Chapter 27: The King and His Ghosts

Second Moon, 91 AC

Jaehaerys

Whenever Jaehaerys made a decision he was unsure of, he found himself wondering what his elder brothers would have done in his place. His father Aenys had been a weak pathetic man who failed them all with his indecisiveness and mewling weakness. His uncle Maegor had been a cruel tyrant and kinslayer. Jaehaerys hated them both. They were unworthy kings and even less worthy men.

No, it was not Aenys and Maegor that Jaehaerys looked up to. It was not even his grandfather, the Conqueror, who had become a broken man after his grandmother died in Dorne and failed to do so many things he should have done, things Jaehaerys had been forced to do in his place. It was his brothers, Aegon and Viserys.

Aegon the Uncrowned the singers called him and the maesters wrote in their histories. To Jaehaerys he had only ever been his elder brother. In his memories he was lean and handsome, and strong. He towered over Jaehaerys always, for all that he knew he had grown greater in stature than his elder brother long ago. Six and ten, barely a man grown and gone. Viserys had died even younger. And yet they remained so large in his memories.

Jaehaerys was born the third son. Sometimes he felt like a pretender, a fake. He was never meant to be King. That was Aegon's birthright, and Viserys was to be his Hand. What era would his elder brothers have ushered in? What would their reign have been like? Would they have made the laws he had? Make the decisions he had? Suffer the losses he had endured? Jaehaerys did not know.

Maegor had killed them both. He had torn Aegon and his dragon apart with the Black Dread. He had tortured Viserys for nine days until he had died from the pain, too broken to even scream anymore. He would never know what his brothers would have done in his place. All that remained of them were the ghosts in his memories, haunting every choice, every path he took.

"Lord Redwyne, are the fleets in position?" his eldest son asked his new Master of Ships.

"The fleets from the west have arrived in Veil my prince. Lannister, Hightower, and of course, Redwyne. Lord Baratheon was wise to secure the island ahead of time and his doing so alone with only a small fleet of fishing boats is commendable. The royal fleet and its auxiliaries from the eastern coast are moored at Estermont and are ready to sail at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, House Velaryon has rejected all requests to moor ships at Bloodstone and without a royal decree, I cannot send any of our ships to moor there." Lord Robert answered.

He was a good man, and son of one too. He had been a captain in the Watch for many years before his father had resigned, and Jaehaerys had been glad to have his service once again.

"Not that our ships would be safe in Velaryon lands anyway," Aemon shook his head. "Still, the rest of these tidings bode well. The treasury is in order. Our coffers are ready and full for the campaign to begin Your Grace," Aemon reported, turning to address him.

Jaehaerys's eyes flitted over to his son. His eldest. His brother Baelon was on his right and his daughter Rhaenys on his left. They had had their disagreements, but Jaehaerys would always be immeasurably proud of Aemon. He would be a fine king, and with Baelon at his side as Hand one day, they would bring Westeros into a new era of peace and prosperity, and raise their house to new heights of greatness. Jaehaerys had no doubt of that.

In his mind's eye, he saw the spirit and memory of his elder brothers in his eldest boys, his pride and joy. Yes, Aemon and Baelon will bring glory to their house. His succession and legacy would be secure for one more generation at least. The generation after that… his eyes dwelt on Rhaenys, sharing her father's pale violet eyes, he was less sure.

"Good work Aemon. You have adjusted well to your new position," he praised his son and heir.

Aemon bowed his head in gratitude, a pleased though small smile on his face.

Looking over the rest of his council and down at the map below, Jaehaerys felt approving of the preparations. The time had come. He had never thought he would have to conquer the Stepstones again, but fate had willed that he must, and he would.

"Lord Robert, give the order to the fleets gathered to begin their landings in the rest of the archipelago. The houses granted each island are to have the honor of leading the vanguard taking that island. My family and I will ride on the morrow to provide aid," Jaehaerys commanded.

He looked over at his family members in attendance and saw their nods of approval and obedience, though it was perhaps reluctant in one or two. His wayward daughter Viserra had gained world renown for her feats atop her dragon. Viserra however, had but one dragon. Her sons' dragons were hatchlings and neither they or their dragons would be fit for battle for at least another fifteen years. Jaehaerys commanded six.

All the dragonriders at House Targaryen's disposal would take part in this second war for the Stepstones. A show of force to the world and to the rebellious Velaryons in nearby Tyrosh. A reminder that it was they and not them who were the last of the Forty. They and not them were the last true dragonlords in the world.

He would ride Vermithor of course, his beloved Bronze Fury had never failed him, and he did not expect him to now. His sons would follow him as they always had, riding the fierce Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, and the mighty Vhagar. And for the first time, Alysanne, Alyssa, and Rhaenys would as well. The latter two were in attendance at today's Small Council meeting because of it.

Jaehaerys was still unsure of that. War was a savage and vicious thing, not at all the glorious and heroic struggle the tales spoke of. It was cruel and brutal, and not something he had ever wanted the gentler members of the family subject to. He had seen what the result of that could lead to. Still they had volunteered and their house sorely needed more dragons on the battlefield to make their power clear.

Alysanne's sleek Silverwing and Rhaenys's swift Red Queen, Meleys, were built for speed, and would be ideal for protecting his fleets and patrolling behind in safer territories. Alysanne and Rhaenys could both contribute to the war effort from a safe distance, be seen by the men and boost morale, but never be in any true danger. It was Alyssa and the Black Dread that gave him pause.

The Black Dread was a monster. Born and bred for one thing, and one thing only. To destroy. He had been much displeased to hear Alyssa had claimed Balerion all those years ago. Jaehaerys had instructed the Dragonkeepers to dissuade her, hoping the promise of thrilling speed on Meleys would convince her, but she had not been convinced and had claimed Balerion anyway. It was not an unworthy dragon for her, but every time he saw him fly, a corner of his mind dreaded that he would see the Cruel riding and not his daughter.

He would have to consider how best to use Balerion in this coming fight. Alyssa was not Alysanne or Rhaenys. When she shook off the melancholy that clung to her bones, the fierce and daring brave woman she once was came charging to the fore, and Balerion was all too eager to obey her commands. Even in his old age, his black breath still burned hot.

As the rest of the council continued deliberating and planning the campaign, Jaehaerys looked askance at the empty seat. It was not like Lord Qoherys to be late. His Master of Whisperers was loyal and dedicated to his duties, attending every meeting faithfully but he also knew his allegiance was torn as of late.

Quentyn's only daughter Laena had been affected deeply by the new laws and tariffs. Her new house by marriage, House Celtigar, was notoriously close to the Velaryons and still refused to break that alliance. They had suffered for it. Laena Celtigar had written many desperate letters begging her father to speak on their behalf and he had. Jaehaerys had turned him down every time. Gently; he too knew a father's love.

His beloved Alysanne had given him six sons and seven daughters. Tragically, Aegon, Gaemon, and Valerion had all died in the cradle. Raising the three that remained however had been easy. Aemon and Baelon were his pride and joy, and Vaegon, though a difficult child, Jaehaerys had finally been able to find what made him happy and gave it to him. A life as a Maester.

But his daughters? Sometimes he wondered if Barth was right when he said he found roads easier than daughters. Jaehaerys knew how to build, how to bring order. Prepare the routes for your roads, hire the workers, choose the material to build the road, ensure it had funding. Daughters were complex, emotional, and messy.

Daenerys… even now his heart clenched to remember his eldest daughter. She had been the apple in Alysanne's eye… and his as well if he was being honest. Gone too soon. Alyssa, wild and brave, had half raised herself, chasing after Aemon and Baelon. Maegelle had been simple enough as well, giving her a prayer book and letting her spend an afternoon at the castle sept had always seemed to be enough.

After Maegelle however, things became less simple. Daella had been complicated, a shy and timid girl scared of her own shadow, unable to even read. Jaehaerys had loved her dearly, wanted to shelter and protect her against the world forever, but he knew as all fathers did, that one day that duty would go to another man.

He had despaired at Daella ever finding a husband with her… weaknesses… but Alysanne had reminded him of her friendship with Lord Rodrik's son and hope had shone its light on him. Jasper Arryn had been exceedingly good for Daella, and Jaehaerys had been immeasurably surprised at her transformation into the confident and proud Lady of the Vale and proud. So very proud. Despite the rough beginning, Daella had found her happy ending and he was glad for her.

Then there was Saera. Parents were not meant to play favorites but they all had them if they were honest. Aegon had been his father's and he himself had been his mother's. Aemon and Baelon were his favorite sons and he was immeasurably proud of them, but there had been a time Jaehaerys had wondered if Saera might be his favorite child of all.

She was so much like him. Clever, cunning. Manipulative and sly too, and he knew where she got that from, loath as he was to admit it. He remembered fondly even now. Saera would sit on his lap or by his side on his solar, chat away at him as he worked. Begging for favors or sweets with an adorable smile and endearing eyes, so very familiar eyes. He knew them well. He saw them each time he looked in a vanity.

Her betrayal… it had hurt him more than he had wanted to admit. She had abused his trust and his favor, whored herself out and lied to his face. And then she had dared to think herself Maegor come again and take three husbands. Perhaps he might have been gentler with her if she had likened herself to Floris the Fox instead.

He had been so furious with her and before his anger could cool, she had remained defiant and blatant, openly disobeying him in court and making him look weak. Jaehaerys could not have ever stood for that. He had made many mistakes throughout his life, questioned his decisions many times, but he had never been weak. Aenys had been weak. He was no Aenys.

Yet still, he regretted the severity of his punishment to her. For so many years he had resisted Alysanne's rather unsubtle attempts to convince him to summon her back and make peace with her. His anger had not cooled, his wrath remained. Recent events had made him reconsider that and he was glad for it.

He was glad to have Saera back but it still hurt, to know that it would never be as it once was. The little girl who had sat on his lap was gone and it was by his own hands. Yet even this pale shadow of what their relationship had once been was enough to console his heart.

But Jaehaerys was honest enough with himself to admit the truth. His anger had only cooled toward Saera because he had found a new daughter to be angry with. He had reconciled with Saera and given her so much not only because he had wanted his daughter back, but also because as King he had known Maidenpool would be key in aiding him against the Velaryons.

The Velaryons… where to even start with them? An old and proud house that had historically been the most loyal and trusted vassals of his own. Kin in more ways than one. The sister of the first Daemon Velaryon had mothered the Conqueror. The sister of the second had mothered Jaehaerys and his siblings. Velaryon blood ran in his veins and his wife's and children's as surely as his blood now ran in the veins of the next Lord of the Tides, his grandson Jacaerys. And yet they were at odds.

Jaehaerys had a long and troubled relationship with the Velaryons. His mother Alyssa had been a proud Velaryon to the end of her days, and had always been close to her brother Daemon. Daemon had been Jaehaerys's first true Hand after Rogar Baratheon, the first he had truly approved of. He was his own uncle after all. It was natural.

But time revealed all secrets, and it eventually became known to Jaehaerys what exactly his uncle had done when he served Maegor. Things his mother had conspired to hide from him. His uncle Daemon could have saved Viserys from his torture and he did nothing. He told Maegor to take Rhaena and marry her; suggested to a tyrant to rape his own niece. How his mother had forgiven him for that, Jaehaerys had never understood, and it had shattered his faith in his uncle completely.

Despite his own Velaryon blood, House Velaryon had seemed so unreliable to him then. Its lord was a traitor who had served the usurper, stood by and watched as his brothers died, advised to the usurper to take his own sister and rape her for the sake of peace. And Daemon's sister? She had betrayed him also. His own mother. She had married Rogar Baratheon without his leave, a man he had little approved of, and conspired with him to deny him Alysanne, his love.

Jaehaerys had been left betrayed, the one house he had thought would never turn its back on him had betrayed him. Treacherous snakes and traitors. Ties of kinship alone had spared them. He could not move against his own mother and uncle. Once his mother had died, Daemon had been wise enough to resign as Hand, and that had been the end of it. It should have been the end of it.

Instead, House Velaryon had risen again, stronger than ever before. Daemon's grandson had proven to be a genius prodigy and soon King's Landing was filled with the tales of Driftmark and its adventurous Sea Snake. The wealth of House Velaryon had swelled so great men claimed it eclipsed the Lannisters and fables of High Tide and its silver towers and the wonders of Spicetown were all the talk in court. When his uncle had finally died, Jaehaerys had finally visited Driftmark for himself again, to take a measure of this legendary new lord and his seat.

What he had found, had exceeded his wildest expectations. Every fable and rumor had been true. Spicetown was a clean and orderly city, sweet smelling and pleasant, so unlike the stench of King's Landing he despised. It had luxury and wealth aplenty. Spices and silks and all other exotic treasure imaginable could be found in its wares and there it was in the distance. Rising like a spike of pearl, a beautiful castle stood atop a hill and cliffs on an islet at high tide, connected only by a narrow causeway to the rest of the island.

It was more than he could have imagined and he had been jealous yes. What had the Velaryons done to deserve that? Why was it them and not his house who had such a beautiful city? It had fueled Jaehaerys's resentment and ambition. He would recruit Lord Corlys, reward him for his talents, and hope to learn his methods to use them to rebuild King's Landing into a true bastion of civilization.

 Corlys Velaryon… Jaehaerys had respected him, admired him even. A man he was once proud to call goodson. He had given him his daughter as bride, a lordship, a governorate, a charter. He had given and promised Corlys Velaryon so very many things.

He was the image of his grandfather and it had been hard for Jaehaerys to not think of him as such. Still he had striven to treat him as his own person. In the time Corlys had served as his Master of Ships, he had built an amiable relationship with him and found that he had been loyal, or had at least appeared to be. He had given him the benefit of the doubt and kept his worries about his ambition to himself.

Perhaps he had handled the Stepstones wrong, perhaps he should have given the Lord Paramountcy as Corlys had believed he would. It was moot now. He had decided otherwise while keeping within the boundaries of his promise and Corlys had lashed out. Like an angry child throwing a temper tantrum. His every concern about his ambition had been proven right in an instant but even Jaehaerys had not thought him to be so daring. So blatant in his flouting of every rule and tradition they had. What vassal thought they could make themselves king in all but name and not be punished? It was a direct challenge to the authority and legitimacy of House Targaryen and it could not stand.

Corlys was not his grandfather, he was not as unworthy and unreliable as Daemon had been. He was even more so. A dangerous power hungry man with aspirations beyond his place and delusions of grandeur. And to his shame, Jaehaerys had given him exactly what he needed to fulfill them.

When Viserra had claimed Dreamfyre, Jaehaerys hadn't known what to do. He had weighed his options and found them all wanting. He had thought that Corlys, a man he had come to know and even like personally, might be trusted with a dragon. He had been wrong of course, but at the time the person he had judged more dangerous with a dragon was Viserra herself not Corlys.

Oh Viserra. Vain and sly, beautiful and daring. So very much like Saera. For the very same reasons Jaehaerys had favored Saera, had he kept Viserra at a distance, knowing what it had led to for her older sister.

Viserra had dared, she had dared to do what even Saera had shied from. She had stolen into the Pit and taken a dragon for her own. Jaehaerys had been furious at sher blatant disobedience and audacity, yet a small part of him had been proud as well to see her standing there so defiantly like a true Targaryen.

Too true. The Sea Dragon riding the Blue Queen, Butcher of Bloodstone, Conqueror of Tyrosh, Bane of the Triarchy; Viserra had earned many accolades. She was perhaps the most accomplished dragonrider in recent history and therein lied the problem. Jaehaerys could not help but see the similarity between her and Visenya.

Two capable dragonriders who felt their sons cheated of something that was never theirs. Two dangerous schemers and plotters. Would Jacaerys and Lucerys be the next Maegor? Would they rise in rebellion in thirty years and either topple his house or wreak havoc on the realm in their bloody defeat? With Viserra whispering in their ears all along about how the Targaryens had stolen what was theirs? Teaching them how to ride dragons to war and slaughter kin?

Jaehaerys had feared this ever since he had given Viserra's hand to Corlys, and his fears had only grown since. The eggs had hatched for his grandsons in the cradle, ensuring House Velaryon's future as dragonriders. Viserra had proven herself far too capable and Corlys far too ambitious and dangerous. Both had lashed out dangerously when denied a prize too great for their grasping hands and had resorted to the extreme.

Love had stayed Jaehaerys's hand then. Love for his daughter, and his grandsons. He should have destroyed the Velaryons the moment they had dared to proclaim the Sea Snake Archon of Tyrosh but he couldn't, he had tried. His heart had failed him even though his mind knew what had to be done.

They were his own blood, his flesh, his descendants. Even now he could not stop himself from feeling pride in them, in what they had accomplished, it was truly extraordinary no matter his thoughts as King. As father and grandfather, he could not help it but feel proud. He would not, could not slay them. He would do whatever he could to avoid war with them.

But he knew in his heart, unless he could bring the Velaryons into line, war was inevitable. In thirty years how many dragons might the Velaryons have? Six? Ten? Viserra would have more children, that was for sure, and Dreamfyre was a very fertile dragon. Every single one of Viserra's children would have dragons and when they were all grown, Jaehaerys feared for the future of both their houses.

Long ago he had played two chess matches with Lord Corlys; both had ended in a draw. This was their third game and Jaehaerys had to win this time. No more draws. His sanctions had to break them now, make them give in before it was too late. He had placed them in check. He had taken almost every step he could to ensure they would break.

One still awaited his decision. He knew that no matter what he did, the Velaryons would recover soon enough from even what he had done in Westeros, so long as their trade routes to Yi Ti remained intact. This could be averted quite easily if he reached out to the masters of Slaver's Bay and promised his support of an attack on the Velaryon outpost at Velos. It was harbouring escaped slaves, and it was a crucial waypoint in the Velaryon trade routes to the Far East. Yet, Jaehaerys was still hesitant. Consorting with slavers to attack his vassal, if only indirectly, was a dangerous step to take and not one that would reflect well on him if it was ever discovered.

He would have to consider it more, and in the meantime he would wait and hope that it was not necessary. Even the vaunted fortune of House Velaryon must surely be depleting soon. Their allies in Westeros were suffering, Driftmark was dying, and Tyrosh remained resistant and unproductive. Surely they must see sense soon and return to beg his clemency?

He would grant it to them for sure. He was the Conciliator after all and they were his kin. He would take Jacaerys and Lucerys as his wards, they would be safe with family in King's Landing and they could be raised loyal and true. Corlys would be humbled and Viserra restrained and left to stew on Driftmark which would be restored and the sanctions lifted as a show of goodwill. Perhaps in time they might even be reconciled with him.

A small trace of doubt nibbled at his mind, insisting that there was another way to do this. A better way, but he squashed it. He could not question himself now. If he looked back, he was lost.

Jaehaerys sighed. Daughters were so difficult. He had been lucky with Maegelle and Alyssa. Daella, Saera, and Viserra had given him such headaches, he could only hope Gael would prove to be like the former two and not the latter three.

Alyssa had already proposed marrying Gael to her son Daemon. It was a fine match and he saw no problem with it at all. The two were close and it would keep Gael in the family, allow her to claim a dragon with little risk, and help them keep the advantage over the Velaryons. With any luck, Gael would be happily and simply married to Daemon and he would not have to worry over her giving him any problems.

He had spent too much time in his thoughts by now. A habit of brooding Alysanne often complained about. He shook his head and sought to pay attention to the meeting once more, finding himself pleased with the progress made in the planning of the campaign. At this rate, they would be able to depart on the morrow to bring the Stepstones back into the fold and the rigors of war would keep his worries away from his mind for a time.

Lord Quentyn was still late however and Jaehaerys was much disturbed by this. It was not like him at all to be late to a meeting and they had dire need of the information the Qoherys lord provided to plan their campaign.

He was about to raise the matter to the Council when Lord Qoherys came bursting into the room. "Your Grace, please forgive my tardiness! I was speaking to an informant of mine who gave me important tidings. I rushed here immediately to relate it to you and this council," he said worriedly.

"You are forgiven my lord," Jaehaerys reassured him. "Please, tell us your tidings."

"I have received word that the Velaryon outpost in the Isle of Cedars has fallen. The cities of Astapor, Yunkai, Meereen, and New Ghis conspired to attack and sack the town of Velos together. The governor, Lord Corlys's cousin, is missing, and presumed dead."

"That… that is news indeed. What is the status of the island?" Jaehaerys asked. This was a surprise indeed, but perhaps a welcome one. He had known in his heart that it had to be done but he had been reluctant to take such a drastic step. It turns out he wouldn't have to. The slavers had been far too eager and excited to see the Velaryons fall and had done it without him entirely.

"The town of Velos has been burned to the ground and whatever few survivors there were made their way to Tyrosh to join the Velaryons there. However, the Slaver Cities cannot decide who should have the island and have begun squabbling amongst each other now. I believe it likely that it will be left to the wilds once again, as it was before the Sea Snake founded the outpost."

Jaehaerys nodded. It was a shame that so many good Westerosi men had to die in a foreign land for their lord's ego, but thankfully, their deaths were not on his hands, only the slavers. It was distasteful, but perhaps their deaths might even have meaning for his plans. Velos had fallen and the trade routes to the east with it. The pressure on House Velaryon had increased tenfold. Jaehaerys could feel it in his bones, they would break soon enough.

"This was not all you had to say was it?" Alysanne demanded of the Qoherys lord with narrowed eyes.

Lord Quentyn shook his head and shuffled nervously. He glanced around the room hurriedly before he spoke again. "Ser Rhaekar Velaryon is dead."

Jaehaerys was confused. "How did this happen?"

"Poison, Your Grace. The ser was having dinner with his brother Lord Corlys and Princess Viserra. By some fortunate happenstance, only Ser Rhaekar ingested the poison and perished. The Princess and her husband survived unscathed with the Seven's grace alone."

At that the mood in the room darkened. Everyone looked concerned. Jaehaerys's eyes found his family members, his wife and children and saw them all to be gravely troubled and worried.

All his thoughts about Velos were inconsequential now. His daughter had almost died. If she had, his grandsons would have been orphaned. House Velaryon would have been left leaderless and he would have won… but at what cost? Viserra would be dead. Dead without ever having reconciled with her family. She would be gone and he would never ever see her again.

"Who was responsible for this?" he demanded, his voice cold and stern. His fists clenched in anger as his rage grew.

"Unknown," Qoherys reported. "The Sea Snake is tearing through Tyrosh as we speak hunting for the culprits. I suspect it was elements of the city's former nobility and elites who had reasons to dislike the Velaryons and their rule."

"Do you suspect possible connections to any Westerosi?" Jaehaerys asked. His eyes flitted over to Robert Redwyne who seemed to be visibly protesting the subtle accusation.

"No, Your Grace. I do not believe so. No Westerosi house has the resources to assassinate anyone in Tyrosh at present. I truly believe someone local is responsible," Lord Quentyn answered.

"Investigate nonetheless. There are many in Westeros who may desire them dead as well and if any are found to be responsible or connected in any way, their heads will roll," Jaehaerys said, watching Lord Robert quail under his gaze.

"Estranged or not, Viserra is still my daughter, my blood. Any cur who dares to lay their hands upon the Blood of the Dragon shall suffer for it," he proclaimed to the loud approval of his children.

Alysanne however had other ideas. "Why not bring her home then?" she asked.

Jaehaerys looked to her and saw her, truly saw her. Alysanne was tired. She had aged swiftly these past few years. This feud with the Velaryons had not been kind to her and she had been in a state of near constant worry and concern since it had begun. She had begrudgingly backed Jaehaerys's actions after Tyrosh but she had never stopped berating him for, in her eyes, beginning the whole feud with the debacle concerning the Stepstones.

Now his tired and exhausted wife turned her eyes on him. The once vibrant blue had dulled, full of grief and despair. This latest crisis had worn on her further and it broke his heart to see it.

"Jaehaerys, it is time to bring our daughter home," she declared in their mother tongue.

It was tempting. So very tempting. To just let go. To stop being the King for once and be a father first. He wanted to bring his daughter home, assure himself that she was well, that she was alive, that she was safe.

Alysanne's next words dripped like honey, luring him in. "We could reconcile with her. They can keep Tyrosh and the Archonate if they would only swear fealty to us. The Stepstones would stay with Otto Hightower and the Master of Ships with Lord Robert. Nothing need change there. We could lift our sanctions and restore Driftmark. We could have peace Jae."

Was it possible? Was such a thing even meant to be? Jaehaerys did not know. It was so tempting to think that reconciling with Viserra might still be possible even now. He was afraid to even reach for it. Afraid to even hope for such a dream.

Robert Redwyne ruined the moment. "Your Grace, please forgive me for interrupting, but I must counsel against this," he said in Common.

The dream began to die before his eyes. Of course their conversation was not as private as he had hoped. The Small Council was made up of some of the most educated men in Westeros. They of all people would be able to glean a general understanding of his conversation with his wife in High Valyrian.

His annoyance at the interruption grew, but still Redwyne did not stop. He dug his own grave deeper and deeper. "I have a daughter myself Your Grace, if anything happened to her, I would be at her side immediately if I could be, but the needs of the realm outweigh my needs as a father. House Velaryon's misdeeds stand. Their occupation of Tyrosh is illegal, and was never recognized by the Iron Throne. They continue to obstruct our attempts to bring order to the Stepstones. They must be reminded of their place. To forgive them now would show the realm that House Targaryen does not abide by its decisions. It would be a sign of… it would not be showing strength."

Noticing the glares of the Targaryens, Redwyne began to tremble in fear. Every one of them present stared at him, daring him to say another word. If looks could kill, Redwyne would be burning in the seven hells. He might find his way there soon anyway if he did not watch his next words carefully.

"Redwyne, do you think that your past and current service to my family allows you to dictate to the royal house what should and should not be done?" Alyssa demanded.

"N-no Princess. I…I live to serve House Targaryen. When His Grace appointed me his Master of Ships, he asked me to always give him honest counsel, even if he did not wish to hear it. This is me keeping my oath. His Grace is a wise and virtuous king. I have faith that he will listen to my words and not judge me for them, even if he does not heed my counsel," Robert defended himself passionately but his last words were more of a plea than a defense.

"Lord Redwyne," Jaehaerys called out. The table was silent. You could hear a quill drop. The other members of the council shuffled awkwardly and trembled. His family members continued to glare at the audacious grape, staring him down. Alyssa even smirked.

"Tell me my lord, do you think flattery will save you?" he said mockingly, like a dragon baring his teeth.

Redwyne trembled. "No, Your Grace."

"No indeed. You are a brave… and foolish man Lord Redwyne. One who dares to tell his king to his face that it would be unwise to reconcile with his daughter. Dares to say that he would be weak to forgive her," his glare intensified as he stared at the now cowering Lord Redwyne, imagining how satisfying it would be to feed him to Vermithor.

But that was the thought of tyrants, of the Cruel, and Jaehaerys could not relent to it. The dragon had to be put back to rest before it destroyed everything he had worked for. His temper cooled ever so slightly as he sighed. "Fortunately for you my lord… you are also right."

Relief spread across the face of Lord Redwyne and confusion on Alyssa's. Aemon, Baelon, and Rhaenys were pensive, their eyes switching between Jaehaerys and his wife.

"Jaehaerys," Alysanne warned.

"Forgive me Alysanne," he begged her in High Valyrian. "Please. I have no choice. As much as my heart screams for me to listen to you, I am King. My duty is to the realm first and foremost. I cannot back down now."

"Yes you can," she insisted. "You are the dragon! Your word is truth… and law! You decide what is weak and unwise, you and no one else! This is nothing but your excuse for your own stubbornness and pride!" Alysanne roared before she rose to her feet and slammed her hands on the table hard. Her fingers turned red from the bruise.

"Damn you Jaehaerys! Damn your pride and your stubbornness! Our daughter almost died and you sit there talking to me as the King? Where is my husband!? Where is our children's father!? What would you have even done if she had died?" she demanded.

Jaehaerys roared himself and slammed his hands on the table. "I would have burned Tyrosh to the ground. Razed every single inch of that pathetic city and wiped it from the face of the world like the filth it is! Anything to avenge our daughter!"

They glared at each other, neither one unwilling to back down. His anger cooled first however. He always hated fighting with Alysanne. She was the love of his life, his other half. It was like tearing at his own soul.

"But she needs no avenging Aly. Our little girl is still alive and well. And she still needs some humility. Perhaps this tragic incident will teach her some. My decrees stand. House Velaryon remains banished from this court unless they return to ask for my judgement and mercy. The tariffs and taxes raised on them and their allies remain in place. And no member of House Targaryen is to visit Tyrosh or Driftmark without my explicit permission."

Alysanne glared at him. Her anger had not cooled. "The Seven Hells take your decrees Jaehaerys," she said before she turned and walked away.

"Alysanne! Where are you going!?" he demanded.

"To see my daughter, Your Grace."

Seemingly emboldened by her mother's defiance, Alyssa rose to her feet and kissed Baelon tenderly. She glared at Jaehaerys furiously before following after her mother.

As they left, Jaehaerys called out to them again. "Alysanne! We have been together since we were babes. I know you as well as you know me. Right now you may think that you do not need my leave to bring her home, that you can mount Silverwing and fly to Tyrosh by yourself. What would you do then? Go to her in the Black Fortress? Do you think she will run into your arms crying and begging for forgiveness? Do you think she will be comforted by your coming? She is more like to slap you and scream at you. Has she answered even a single letter you sent her?"

Alysanne clenched her fists, frustration on her face. He was right, they both knew that.

"You want her, you need her, I hear you… but she does not want you or need you. If she did, she would have answered your letters long ago. Leave her be Alysanne. In a few years more, we might bring her back, not now."

Aly looked up to him again. "That may be so Your Grace. Perhaps Viserra looks not for my coming and she will scorn me. Still I must go, if only to look upon her with my own eyes and know that she is alive and well."

"Will you return to King's Landing then? Once you have seen our daughter and confirmed her wellbeing for yourself?" Jaehaerys pleaded, hoping to salvage what he could. Deep down he was afraid Viserra might convince her mother and sister to take her side once more.

Alysanne's next words shattered his heart. "No. No I don't think I will. My anger with you has not abated. I will not fight your war Jaehaerys. Silverwing will not fly to the Stepstones. She will bear me to Dragonstone, and there I will remain.

"Until when?" he asked, feeling the pieces of his heart tear at his soul. It was agonizing.

"So long as you insist on maintaining this cruel battle with your own daughter," she spat.

"And if I bid you to return before it ends?" Jaehaerys begged.

Alysanne smiled sweetly. "Make me," she challenged before continuing on her way. Jaehaerys felt his heart shatter.

Alyssa watched her mother leave before she turned to face him. "I will return here from Tyrosh, but it is for Baelon and my sons. Not you Father," she told him. "You will not have Balerion in the Stepstones either."

"So be it," he answered, too tired to argue anymore. Alyssa stormed out from the room, following after her mother.

Jaehaerys remembered then that they had an audience. He looked down at Redwyne and all the other lords and would suffer them here no more. This was a family matter. "What are you all gawking at? Out! This council is dismissed until the next meeting!"

The lords rushed to their feet and all but ran out from the room. Ser Ryam, and the other Kingsguard remained in the room, loyal as ever. The Lord Commander did not seem concerned that Jaehaerys had threatened his brother, perhaps his faith and loyalty in him was that strong. Jaehaerys appreciated it.

As Aemon and Baelon rose to their feet, Jaehaerys called to them. "Aemon, Baelon. My sons. Will you leave me also?" he asked them.

"No Father. I will not. You are my king and I am your heir. Your success is mine," Aemon said before he walked away. His answer was curt and there was little warmth in it.

"And you Baelon?" Jaehaerys beseeched next. His second son was brave and loyal to him, but he knew how dearly he loved Alyssa and their mother.

Baelon looked torn, like his heart was being pulled apart. "I will not either Father. I will not abandon you or Aemon. But I will not abandon Alyssa or Viserra either. You should make peace with Mother as soon as possible."

He followed his brother out, leaving Jaehaerys alone with the Kingsguard. Save one. Rhaenys was fidgeting as she approached him.

"What are you still doing here Rhaenys?" Jaehaerys asked tiredly. He was in no mood for games.

"Grandfather… I… I wanted to tell you, even if you didn't ask me, that I won't leave you either. I am loyal to you, and to our house," she said with a bow.

Despite himself, Jaehaerys laughed. Rhaenys stiffened up.

"No, no. Do not be frightened dear girl. I do not mock you. I am impressed with your cunning. You approach me and pledge your loyalty when I have just been abandoned by my wife, hoping that I will think well of you and you will secure your inheritance more? Most impressive Rhaenys. Well done."

Rhaenys rose with a cautious smile on her face from her grandfather's praise.

"Remember my dear girl. Wise rulers know how to play the game," Jaehaerys said, deciding to teach his granddaughter a lesson in the art of governance.

"The game Grandfather?"

"There is only one game truly worth playing. The game of thrones. The stakes are high, and the consequences for failure are dire."

"Can you win the game then? Stop playing?" Rhaenys asked.

"The game never ends Rhaenys. Only the players do."

She looked unnerved then, and he wondered yet again if she had the strength to rule. Still, Viserys was hardly better and both of them were young. There was time for them to learn. Together perhaps, they could do it.

"It is quite a valuable skill to be able to speak to people and turn them to your side Rhaenys," he instructed her. "You did well to approach me as you did, though perhaps in the future, you might try being a little more… subtle. It is but one of many skills you will need to hone to rule effectively." Jaehaerys advised.

"And will I be ruling Grandfather?" Rhaenys challenged.

"Yes. You will be. Your father will be King after me and you will be his Princess of Dragonstone, but something tells me that isn't what you wanted to hear is it?"

Rhaenys shook her head. Jaehaerys sighed before turning to look back at the map of the Stepstones. Tyrosh was on the corner, taunting him.

"Do you know why I was hesitant on your ascension to the throne?" he asked his granddaughter.

"Because you think that men are the better rulers?" Rhaenys dared to answer.

Jaehaerys laughed again. This girl really had quite the nerve. "Not quite as simple as that my dear. While I will confess I feel men are more often than not the stronger and harder sex, more suited for ruling… I grew up at the foot of Visenya. I hated her so much, but I cannot deny that she was a very capable ruler. Perhaps if my grandsire had valued her more, things might have been different for our house. No, my concerns lie elsewhere. I took the throne before my eldest brother and sister's daughter Aerea."

"I know the story," Rhaenys said, nodding.

"Then you understand the precedent that was set. Aerea may be dead but there is the worry that not following the precedent that let me inherit over her may brand our entire line usurpers."

"We have dragons. What is there to fear?"

Jaehaerys smiled. "I think Maegor proved that dragons alone are not enough no? Power is an illusion Rhaenys, a perception that we create. The dragons help us produce that illusion but if you rule with dragons alone, you risk becoming a tyrant the realm will rise up against, like they did with Maegor. House Velaryon challenges the perception of power by which we rule. It is why I am so wroth with them, so much so that my own daughter almost dying is still not enough for me to forgive them. Not yet."

His granddaughter was pensive now, waiting for his next words. Jaehaerys took pity on her and gave her the assurance she was looking for, cutting his lesson short.

"We will have time to continue these talks another time I suppose. For now, Rhaenys, rest assured. You will be Queen, so long as you keep to your betrothal and marry Viserys. He will be King, but consort only. Your father will see to it that you sit the Iron Throne and I do not intend to contest this. There is enough division in the family as it is."

"Are you not still worried about breaking the precedent with Aerea?"

Jaehaerys shook his head. "That is why you are marrying Viserys. He is the next claimant in the male line. By your marriage, the male and female claims of House Targaryen will be reconciled and none will be able to gainsay your son when he ascends. His right to the throne will be uncontested and unchallengeable under any law or custom we have. It is imperative, now more than ever, that our house stands united."

Rhaenys laughed bitterly. "Hasn't that already failed? Grandmother and Aunt Alyssa have disobeyed you."

"I have faith that they will see wisdom eventually… and if not… it is no matter. They are not the future Rhaenys. You are. You, Viserys, and your children. This burden is not a light one. If you want to be queen, you must be ready for it when it comes to you."

Rhaenys nodded. "I understand. By your leave Grandfather," she asked permission to leave.

"Go."

Rhaenys curtseyed to him before she turned to depart. As she left, Jaehaerys called out to her. She turned around to hear his words.

"Rhaenys. You will make a fine queen," he told her.

His granddaughter's pale violet eyes widened before she curtseyed again and then bowed. "Thank you Grandfather."

As Rhaenys left, Jaehaerys felt his strength crumble. Alysanne had deserted him. He had driven away most of his daughters. His sons obeyed him only out of duty now. If he could make everything right again, he would, but it was too late for that.

He could do everything, revoke all his laws, restore the Stepstones to her, recognize her husband as Archon of Tyrosh, and still Viserra would never forgive him. Perhaps one day, Aemon might be able to implement his own plan and lead them to peace that way, but for Jaehaerys only one path was left. For all his sacrifice and suffering to mean anything, he had to stay the course and hope it did not lead him to tragedy.

"Aegon, Viserys, what would you have done?" he asked aloud. The ghosts did not answer him. They never did.