Chapter 38: Reunion

First Moon, 100 AC

Viserra

The ride over to Dragonstone was not long. The island was visible from the highest tower of High Tide, and a dragon covered the distance in little more than five and ten minutes. Her first instinct had been to take Laena and Daeron to ride with her on Dreamfyre, like they'd taken them when they rode the horses. However, her two youngest children had begged and cajoled her to let them ride their dragons and she had begrudgingly relented after ensuring they were strapped and chained securely to their saddles.

She might not fully trust her very young children's riding skills quite yet, but she had plenty of trust for their dragons, Shrykos and Terrax, who continued to grow ludicrously fast. Jace and Luke at eleven were more than capable riders already and their dragons, Tessarion and Morghul, were even more massive than their younger siblings. If their rates of growth continued to hold up, her children's dragons would all be at least a third the size of Dreamfyre before they came of age at 16. She didn't quite know what to feel about that.

As they reached Dragonstone, Viserra observed the dragons on the island with a confusing mix of respect, nostalgia, and wariness. Balerion the Black Dread was still alive, but the ancient dragon was slowing with old age. Viserra had heard the Dragonkeepers say once before that her elder sister claiming the Dread had rejuvenated the sluggish and aging dragon and given him a new breath of life, but even that could not last forever.

Beside Balerion roosted his oldest remaining companion, Vhagar, the dragon ridden by her elder brother Baelon the Brave. Like Balerion, Vhagar was ancient and massive, but far more energetic and vigorous. Meleys the Red Queen and Silverwing rested near the castle as well, and Viserra also spotted two young dragons sleeping beside Meleys and Silverwing. One a splendorous and magnificent dragon with pale pink wing membranes and gleaming golden scales that shone in the sunlight like beaten gold, and the other a silver-grey drake with pale red crests and accents. Sunfyre and Seasmoke.

Knowing better than to land too close to the other dragons, Viserra led her children to land near the castle gates on the far side from the Targaryens' other dragons, though that distance did not stop the dragons from all roaring threats and greetings at each other. As Corlys dismounted Dreamfyre, Viserra followed him down and helped her children out of their saddles. Their trusted Tide Guard, Ser Jaremy and his men, were waiting for them when they arrived.

Though they had initially intended to come alone, Ser Jaremy had begged them to allow him and some of his men to go ahead of them, insisting that they could not go to a Targaryen stronghold without protection. Viserra had been dismissive of his concerns at first, knowing that it was family she was visiting but he had begged and pleaded and she could not bring herself to reject his wish in the end.

It was a precaution for their safety after all, and Ser Jaremy deserved the peace of mind at least. He was by far the most loyal and trusted of their Tide Guard, which was no small feat given how the entire Guard had been chosen for their zealous loyalty and devotion to House Velaryon. Ser Jaremy had risen high in the ranks to become the lieutenant and second in command of the Guard, with the rank of Captain, and sure to become Lord Commander when the current commander retired from his post.

In all his long years of service to House Velaryon, Ser Jaremy had only ever asked one other thing from them, when he had asked for and been granted their permission to marry Viserra's servant and friend Pina. Pina had herself served Viserra for many years, and by now she had formally promoted her to being her private secretary and chief of staff, overseeing her schedule, her maids, and all her other personal matters.

Ser Jaremy and Pina had bonded it had seemed, over their mutual loyalty to Viserra's family and their close proximity to them, and they were happily married. Even now they both continued in their fierce loyalty and service to their family, and knowing them they'd raise their children to be equally as devoted future servants of their house, be it as Tide Guard, maids, servants, secretaries, or whatever other employment they might find.

Corlys she knew intended to give Jaremy a peerage once he established that system of titles in Tyrosh. Though for some odd reason he had insisted to her that it would be on the condition that Jaremy take the house name Gottwell or something similar, and had then proceeded to smile ridiculously to himself. Viserra just didn't understand that but knowing Jaremy, he'd accept taking the most horrid and embarrassing surname imaginable if Corlys asked it of him. All things considered, Gottwell was not at all a bad name.

Ser Jaremy and the Tide Guard escorted them into the castle, even as the Kingsguard and Jonquil Darke watched over their company. As they passed through familiar halls with rich red satins and dragon gargoyles, Viserra remembered why exactly she had never personally liked Dragonstone all too much. Much like the Black Fortress of Tyrosh, the black dragonstone it was built from might be indestructible, but it made it feel so dull and lifeless, so unlike High Tide and its well-lit and gleaming halls and shining floors and marble walls.

Finally, they were led to the dining room where members of Viserra's family that she had not seen for years were waiting. She was struck speechless seeing just how much her mother had aged, the years had not been kind to her at all. Her once honey blonde hair had completely grayed and her skin had wrinkled, and yet from the way she carried herself, Viserra knew that her mother Queen Alysanne had not lost all her vigor yet. Strength there still was in her bones, and fire that still burned in her blue eyes.

Her elder siblings Baelon and Alyssa had similarly aged in the decade since she had seen them both last, though not quite as much. Both had gained a few more wrinkles, but it did little to affect their beauty. Any grey hairs on Baelon were hidden by his naturally silver-gold hair and Alyssa had none to speak on in her dirty blonde hair either. In fact, Alyssa looked the happiest that Viserra had recalled her being in many, many years. It seemed that after all this time, Alyssa had finally won her battle against her melancholy and reclaimed who she had once been. Viserra was happy for her.

Lastly her attention was drawn to perhaps the two she was most nervous about meeting again. Rhaenys and Viserys had both grown since she had met them last. The former matched her mother's height and towered over Viserra herself at six feet. Viserys was taller even still, by at least an inch. Both of them were young, full of fire and youth. There was steel in both of their spines, though Rhaenys could tell that Viserys was more naturally laidback and welcoming than his wife and cousin was. Rhaenys was staring at Viserra like she didn't know what to think of her.

That was fine, Viserra felt the same. Her thoughts of Rhaenys were soon banished as her mother and Alyssa called out to her excitedly before embracing her.

"Viserra! It is so good to see you again little sister," Alyssa said.

"I agree, it is good to see you again sister," Viserra replied. It had been over nine years since they had last met in person and it had not ended on good terms so all of them were being careful to drag up old wounds. Her mother and Alyssa were both rather awkwardly polite to Corlys standing near her though there was no awkwardness needed as they enthusiastically introduced themselves to her four children.

Viserra was proud to say all four of her children handled meeting their enthusiastic grandmother and aunt quite well. When Baelon walked up, Viserra embraced him gladly as well. Part of her would always be the little girl who had adored her elder brother and she was still grateful that he continued to support her even now. She noticed Jace and Luke looking at Baelon with slivers of admiration in their eyes and resisted the urge to chuckle. They had loved her stories of her elder and favorite brother Baelon the Brave, who had punched Balerion and mounted Vhagar, and lived to tell the tale.

Once they'd finished with the niceties, Baelon called out to the other denizens of the room. "Viserys! Rhaenys! Do come and introduce yourselves and your children."

Viserys obeyed his father eagerly, though with a hint of hesitance as he looked at his clearly reluctant wife, but Rhaenys followed nonetheless. Walking alongside them was a young boy the same height and age as her youngest son Daeron, and a three-year-old toddler girl.

"Aunt Viserra!" Viserys greeted her eagerly, and she found herself surprised by his excited embrace and his enthusiastic shaking of Corlys' hand. "It's so good to see both of you again! Ah, where are my manners? This is our son, Aegon, he's of age with your youngest I believe," Viserys said as he introduced the young boy next to him.

Little Aegon looked like a miniature version of his father, if not for the pale lilac eyes he shared with his mother and grandmother.

"This is my daughter Rhaenyra," Viserys said cheerfully, picking up his young daughter and letting Viserra see her better. She was an exceptionally beautiful child, possessing her father's violet eyes and otherwise looking like a perfect blend of her parents.

"And of course, you remember Rhaenys I'm sure," Viserys said cheerfully.

Viserra nodded, feeling a bit uncertain herself now. "I do. It's wonderful to see you again Rhaenys."

She hid it well, but Viserra had enough experience to see the wariness in her lilac eyes. "I feel the same Aunt Viserra."

Once the introductions and niceties had been dealt with, they took their seats for dinner. Her mother, as the highest ranking present, took the head of the table as decorum demanded. Viserra sat to her left, with Baelon directly opposite her at their mother's right. Their spouses were beside them and then after that followed their children. Jace, Luke, Laena, and Daeron sat beside Corlys, while Rhaenys sat beside Alyssa, followed by Viserys, and then their two children.

Aegon immediately struck up a conversation with her children, while his little sister Rhaenyra struggled valiantly to involve herself in the cousins' conversations. They seemed to be getting along well, especially Aegon and Daeron and Laena, who were all close in age. It gladdened Viserra's heart to see. It was important that the feud between their families did not persist into the next generation, or only tragedy awaited.

She looked over to her mother, engaged in a cordial if still awkward conversation with her husband and elder siblings, and felt some form of hope for the future of their family. The last time she had seen her mother and eldest sister in person… it had ended badly, but years of heartfelt letters had done well to heal the divide.

Viserra had eventually even felt confident enough to confide in her mother the difficulties she had had growing up and she had been surprisingly understanding. Perhaps having isolated herself away from the others on Dragonstone had given her mother a new perspective? Either that or it had made her desperate for a proper reconciliation with her.

Whatever the case, Viserra's relationship with her mother was stronger now than it ever was before, and meeting Alyssa and Baelon in person again after years of letters, feeling for herself the ease in which she spoke with them, it made her confident that she could restore her relationship with them as well. It was a shame that Aemon could not attend today, but Viserra understood his difficulties with having to placate their father and his wife. She was certain that she could rebuild her relationship with him as well in time, and it would prove fruitful in ending this feud once and for all.

Yet it was crucial that she rebuilt her relationship not just with her mother and three eldest siblings, but also with Rhaenys and Viserys. Her mother and elder siblings would not live forever, and one day Rhaenys would be the Ruling Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, and Viserys would be her King Consort.

Viserra looked at her niece from the corner of her eye. She had matured so much from when she last saw her, not just in body, but in mind as well, in how she carried herself. Rhaenys was no longer the young teen that had followed Viserra around, tried to befriend her and join her circle of friends. Now she was a woman grown, with children of her own, the proud and stubborn heiress of the Iron Throne and Storm's End. There was steel in her spine and fire in her eyes. Viserra had much experience in dealing with many types of people, and she sensed a fiery temperament in her niece that she kept on a leash, and she was not at all eager to find out what it would take to loosen that leash.

Despite herself, Viserra found that she was reluctant to directly engage Rhaenys in conversation. Their past with each other was mixed, and despite Rhaenys' own efforts, they had never been true friends. The last time they had really interacted with each other… had been when Viserra had played on her hopes of befriending her to sneak into the Dragonpit and claim Dreamfyre. After that, they'd just never had the time to sort out their relationship. Viserra had been busy with dragonriding training and then her marriage and being the Lady of Driftmark, and then the conquest of the Stepstones and everything that happened thereafter. Her acquaintanceship with Rhaenys had been dropped, and they had not been close enough for Viserra to write her in her years in Tyrosh.

The conversation took a brief break once dinner arrived. Viserra would confess that she was dissatisfied with the quality and quantity of the spices used. Even now, Westeros had yet to fully recover their spice trade, though the South Seas Company had done its best to supply the demand with spices from the Summer Islands, it was not of enough variety and quantity to match the amounts the Velaryons had once imported from the Jade Sea, amounts they easily stood to bring into Westeros once again, if only the sanctions were removed. Until then, the Free Cities were more than happy to purchase their stocks, as were their trusted Westerosi allies.

Once everyone had been served their food and taken their first helpings of the dishes, the conversation resumed once more as Viserra and her husband spoke of their time in Tyrosh, of their children, and in turn inquired after events in Westeros. Unlike Viserys and his parents who were eagerly partaking in the conversation with the rest of them, Rhaenys was strangely silent and she sensed her eyes on herself at various points during the conversation, and had to resist the desire to shuffle. She would not let her niece's gaze unsettle her. She had faced much worse before.

Eventually as they all almost finished their dinner and with dessert still some time away, Corlys sent for a bottle of liquor that he had given to Ser Jaremy and his men to carry on their ship for them. Her brother Baelon was delighted when it came.

"Tyroshi pear brandy?" he inquired.

"Indeed. It's seven years old," Corlys answered with a smile.

"The older the better, but seven years is not half bad," Baelon said as he poured some of the brandy into his wineglass and sipped it contentedly.

"It has a sweet tangy taste," Alyssa said, thrilled. She had always had a liking for sweet things.

"Driftmark's own distilleries moved to Tyrosh, I'm assuming?" her mother asked her.

Viserra nodded. "Among many businesses. They took up control of the local distilleries damaged by the riots and started joint production of both Tyrosh's and Driftmark's specialties. In time, we hope to bring some of those industries back home to Driftmark but that is difficult at present."

Her mother grimaced. "You would have thought that your father would have seen sense by now. His stubbornness in keeping the sanctions is only hurting both our houses."

"Is there any chance of convincing him?" Viserra asked, hopeful.

"Not as of yet. Honestly I do think it's him clinging to what remains of his pride, I can tell that even he knows it's pointless, he just doesn't want to lose face. Not to mention, Jocelyn, the Arryns, and the western houses are all against removing the sanctions so he has the excuse he needs to not remove them," Baelon answered for their mother.

It was disappointing but not unexpected. "That's unfortunate," she said.

"We are trying our best Viserra, but you know Father. He's very stubborn," Alyssa told her.

In the corner of her eye, she saw that Rhaenys and Viserys' expressions were carefully neutral, betraying nothing of their true opinions on the matter.

"I understand Alyssa. I just hope that he will see sense eventually," Viserra said carefully.

Privately Viserra doubted that her father ever would, and she wouldn't ever forgive him even if he did, but it was still worth trying to put the feud to rest sooner rather than later. The longer it persisted, the greater the rift became and the harder it was to heal it.

She continued to observe Rhaenys and Viserys as inconspicuously as she could, trying to gauge their reactions. Viserys appeared to noticeably relax when she moved on from discussing the feud but Rhaenys remained impassive and neutral. Viserra decided to change the topic, this was a family reunion first and foremost, and there would be time to discuss politics when the proper seeds had been sown and the right relationships cultivated again. She needed to try and gauge Rhaenys and Viserys' positions if possible.

"Might I ask why Daemon and Gael couldn't come? I would have liked to see them as well, and meet their children. They just had their third daughter a few months ago no?" Viserra asked.

"They did. Little Helaena is adorable," Alyssa cooed over her latest granddaughter, just as she had gushed over her sons' weddings to her.

"Any particular reason why they didn't come?" Viserra pressed. Viserys looked nervous though Rhaenys remained hard to read.

"They had other matters to attend to, but they did ask us to pass along their regards. Perhaps we could arrange a meeting at a future date," Baelon said, but Viserra knew her brother and knew that despite his charming smile meant to assuage her worries, he was troubled by something.

Viserra nodded and took another spoonful of her food, her mind racing on the possible implications as she chewed her food slowly, delicately. Eventually she decided on another question.

"Viserys, if you don't mind my asking, why haven't you and Daemon claimed your dragons yet? There's no shortage of eggs I'm sure, and I heard that Gael has already claimed Syrax. What are the two of you waiting for?"

She didn't know why at first, but it seemed she had asked a question she shouldn't have. The air in the room became heavier, and her mother and Baelon and Alyssa looked a little unsettled by the question and she couldn't tell why.

Viserys put on a smile and seemed to swallow back his unease. "We have talked about it, with each other and the family and well, both of us are in agreement that we will claim dragons one day, and while we would like to take the skies like the rest of our family, we would want to do so on the dragons we feel are… right for us."

Viserra frowned at that, but she hid it as fast as she could. This kind of rationale was not something that she had expected, but she should have in hindsight. The last person to have delayed claiming his dragon was Maegor, because he desired Balerion. Her parents were not young, and Viserra was aware that they would both die within the next fifteen years or sooner. Vermithor and Silverwing would be left riderless and the Targaryens were aware of this and had already taken the steps to ensure that their third and fourth largest dragons would remain relevant in any negotiations or projections of power.

Judging by the reactions of her mother and siblings, it seemed to be something that the family as a whole was aware of, if not in support of. A reminder that for all their seeming support of her, they were still Targaryens and wanted House Targaryen to succeed first and foremost.

"You understand right Aunt Viserra?" Rhaenys said suddenly, and Viserra snapped out of her thoughts to attention. "Not all of us were so fortunate to have an adult dragon ready to be claimed in the Dragonpit," she said, her face as impassive as ever, but her lilac eyes betrayed the hidden challenge in her words.

Viserra narrowed her eyes at her niece. If it was even possible, the mood on the table became even more awkward, to the point that the children noticed it as well. Her mother hurriedly changed the topic to something… safer, and soon they had moved on from the awkward pause in the conversation, but it had not been forgotten by any of them.

Once they had finished dessert, they had started breaking up one by one. The children had all gathered around her mother at the table to listen to her stories, Corlys was entertaining her siblings and Viserys over at a neighboring table, with another bottle of wine, provided from Dragonstone's cellars this time, and Rhaenys had walked out onto the balcony.

Viserra warred with herself on what to do. She could easily join her mother in telling stories to the children, or catch up with her siblings with Corlys, yet she knew what she should do instead. She walked slowly towards the balcony.

Was it too much to hope that all of House Targaryen was open to reconciling with her and her family? Her father was stubborn and would likely never give in, intent on holding on to his meaningless pride until the day he died. Jocelyn was still stubbornly opposed to them due to her resentment, and as Lady of Storm's End and Princess of Dragonstone, her voice had more weight than it should have.

Daemon and Gael might be following her father and Jocelyn's lead on this, for whatever reasons. It was not something that the others had wanted to confirm but Viserra had enough experience to guess at the truth. Her mother, Baelon, Alyssa, and Aemon were genuine in their desire for reconciliation she hoped and yet they too remained Targaryens first and foremost and she had a feeling that they might have their own views on how the reconciliation should be like, views that might not align with Corlys' and hers. Viserys was affable, but clearly conflicted and cautious.

Worst of all was Rhaenys however, who seemed to be hovering between indifference and thinly veiled hostility. Her niece had far too many conflicting influences for Viserra's comfort. Her own parents were at odds on the matter, and her goodparents' influence ran headlong into those of her peers, Daemon, Gael, and possibly even Viserys. Not to mention that she could not discard the possibility that her father had directly influenced Rhaenys either. Viserra knew all too well the lengths one could go to seeking out Jaehaerys Targaryen's favor, and Rhaenys the insecure female heir could very possibly have gone to lengths greater than she was ever willing to.

It was a necessary reminder of the difficulty of the task ahead of her family. Even with the support of the Queen, the future King, and a Prince and Princess, a large rift had already opened between their two houses and bridging it would be challenging to say the least.

Part of her was tempted to not even bother. For all that they had reconciled later, even her mother and eldest siblings had opposed her family's rule in Tyrosh and had turned them away when they had been in need of aid. House Velaryon didn't need the Targaryens to succeed anymore. They had bled and suffered for their own success, won against the odds when the Targaryens had tried to crush them with their sanctions. Why should they turn back now and subordinate themselves to them once again? To the very same house that had betrayed them first?

A few years ago, a proposal had been made by some in their service, that House Velaryon should properly consolidate its rule over Tyrosh by formalizing Viserra's courtesy title as Princess of Tyrosh for the entire family, styling Corlys, herself, and their children, as Princes and Princesses. Corlys had even pondered how they could be addressed with stylings of 'highness' or 'majesty', and it had been tempting, so very tempting. Viserra had wanted nothing more than to give her husband and children the honors, the titles that they deserved, that their family had earned. She had daydreamed of the glory that her children would have as royals in their own right, their rightful status as the ruling family of an independent Free City.

Yet in the end Corlys and her had reluctantly decided against it. They had been in agreement that it would be wiser to not antagonize the Targaryens and alienate their supporters in the family. They could not compromise their chance of peace for pride like her father was doing even now.

If they did not make some kind of peace, Driftmark would wither away. More than that, Viserra feared the worst; ties of kinship alone had stayed her parents and siblings' hands. Had she been anyone else but their daughter and sister, her house would have been made naught but a memory long ago. She was wise enough to see that now.

Ties of kinship had not stopped Maegor and Visenya. How long would it stop House Targaryen from acting against her children if the rift wasn't healed eventually? Perhaps they could win, they had five dragons now against the Targaryens' eight, but Viserra had not walked out of Tyrosh and all its struggles only to remain a careless risk taker. It was her children's lives on the line if it ever came to that dark possibility.

That was why, even if it was difficult, even if made her feel like tearing her hair out, Viserra had to at least try, try and come to some kind of understanding with the Targaryens, with Rhaenys.

She walked out onto the balcony, ignoring the rather overly decorated railing filled with dragon gargoyles, and turned to her niece staring out into the starry sky. Viserra made to announce her presence awkwardly, but Rhaenys already knew she was there.

"Aunt Viserra," she said, acknowledging her presence.

Viserra summoned up the courage. She had tried doing it indirectly, trading niceties and courtesies, but it had not accomplished anything with Rhaenys. She had to be frank.

"Do you resent me Rhaenys?" she asked suddenly.

Her forwardness seemed to have taken her niece by surprise and finally broken the carefully maintained mask of impassiveness she wore. She turned to her, guarded, and asked, "What makes you say that?"

"It's just a feeling I get," Viserra said as she walked forward to stand beside Rhaenys, leaning her arms over the balcony. "You are so curt and cold towards me; I cannot help but wonder. Then I think on what could possibly be causing this resentment, and I find too many causes indeed. Perhaps you are loyal to your mother? Even now House Baratheon has quarrels with the Tarths and other houses in the Stormlands that we trade with, perhaps some of your mother's frustration has rubbed off on you? You spend no small amount of time with my father as well, perhaps he too has influenced you?"

Rhaenys scoffed. "Do you think I am so weak that my opinions are based solely on those of the people around me?"

"Being influenced by the people dearest to you is not necessarily weakness Rhaenys. I find that there is a line between wisdom and weakness when it comes to listening to others."

"And what is that line?" Rhaenys demanded.

"What do you think?" Viserra asked in turn.

Rhaenys did not answer, instead she hid a scowl and turned away. It was a little while longer before she spoke again.

"I wouldn't say that I resent you necessarily, but as you have stated, the situation between our families, and Mother and Grandfather's opinions, do complicate matters," she admitted. "It does not help that our own past together is complicated, and that could lead me to have a less welcoming disposition towards you." Rhaenys was choosing her words carefully.

Viserra sighed, it was not wholly unexpected. She knew how easy it was to hold a grudge over things, be they big or small. She had experienced it herself, seen it in others.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?" Rhaenys said warily.

"I never apologized did I? All those years ago, you were so eager to befriend me and I… I must admit I took advantage of that for my own ends. It was never my intention to hurt you… but I have no doubt that my selfish actions did nonetheless, and for that I am sorry."

The wariness in Rhaenys' expression faded slightly. "It did hurt. I… I wanted to be your friend, I wanted us to have a close relationship. You were the closest to me in age among all our family members and I wanted that friendship to blossom between us. I admired you and envied you, you were so beautiful and womanly, and I hoped to learn from that. Instead you used me to steal a dragon, and then you discarded me like it was nothing. We never even talked properly after that."

Viserra smiled with melancholy. "I'm glad you thought that of me Rhaenys. I envied you as well. You had a dragon, you were the heir to the throne, you had the attention, the importance that I wanted. At the time I thought that all I really had was my beauty and it made me jealous, it made me lash out. For whatever reason I came to fear that you would take my betrothed as well, and whether I knew it or not, I think I had already come to love Corlys in some way by then. So I acted, and I hurt you, and I am truly sorry for that. As for what came after, I was so busy with my own life, I never stopped to consider what effect I had had on yours. It's no excuse I know, I failed to consider your feelings once again and I must apologize for that as well."

Rhaenys was looking at her strangely. "The Viserra that I knew didn't apologize for anything unless Grandmother forced her to."

"She was a vain and spoilt little princess wasn't she?" Viserra agreed. "I was that person once, not anymore. I like to think that my experience in Tyrosh has given me some little bit of wisdom. Enough to know that we should resolve this Rhaenys.

"We might never be friends; too much time has passed, and too much resentment and political complications have festered, but we could still be cordial and friendly with each other. If not for ourselves, then for our children."

Viserra turned around, making Rhaenys do the same. They both saw the wondrous sight before them. Jace, Luke, Laena, Daeron, Aegon, and Rhaenyra, all playing and laughing together. Velaryons and Targaryens, a vision of hope for a better future.

"Can you see it Rhaenys? A future where House Targaryen and House Velaryon are united once again, growing strong together. That future is still within our grasp, if we would only put aside our grudges and reach out our hands to grasp it."

She offered Rhaenys her arm. "Could you forgive me? Or at the very least, agree to work with me to bring that future to fruition?"

The few moments that she waited felt like an eternity but finally, tentatively, Rhaenys grasped her arm. "We shouldn't pass our grudges down to our children I agree, it can only be to our houses' benefit if they grow closer and befriend each other. I'm willing to work with you on that, but for now, I can't promise anything else."

"That's good enough for me," Viserra answered. "The rest will come in time I think. Thank you Rhaenys, for considering this."

Rhaenys nodded reluctantly before she walked away, leaving Viserra to wonder about the future of their houses.

___________________________________________

Rhaenys Targaryen

It took less than a day for them to fly from Dragonstone to King's Landing, Meleys had outpaced Balerion and Vhagar at several points, but as Viserys and their son were riding with his parents, Rhaenys had decided to slow her pace and wait for them.

It was acceptable. Rhaenyra, her dear daughter, had enjoyed the relaxed ride with her on Meleys. Upon their return to the capital, they had landed their three dragons at the Dragonpit, and once their dragons had been seen to, they had taken the waiting carriages back to the Red Keep. Ser Clement Crabb of the Kingsguard had led a company of their finest household guards to escort them through the city.

As Rhaenys stepped out of the carriage, she looked up at the imposing towers of Maegor's Holdfast and immediately felt at home. Dragonstone might officially belong to her father, and eventually to her, but it had never really felt like home to her. Rhaenys had grown up in the Red Keep, and it was from the Red Keep that she would one day reign.

Daemon and Gael had come to greet them when they arrived. Their elder twin daughters, of age with Rhaenys' own had immediately rushed into their waiting grandparents' arms eagerly. Their youngest babe, Helaena, was probably sleeping in the nursery.

Rhaenys greeted Gael with a strong embrace and a kiss on her cheek even as her husband hugged his brother tightly with a laugh.

"Welcome back cousin," Daemon told her in greeting.

"Good to be back," she responded.

"Dragonstone had a seahorse infestation I hear. I'm sure it's much better to be back home with the true dragons," he said with a smirk.

"Daemon," her aunt Alyssa stated warningly.

"My apologies mother," he said, completely unapologetic. If Rhaenys had to guess, he was sorry that he said it in front of her, not that he said it at all.

Her uncle Baelon only sighed.

Gael's expression was stony as Daemon inquired after their grandmother. It still surprised Rhaenys sometimes, just how much her youngest aunt disliked her grandmother. They had seemed close to her when she was younger, but she supposed that her grandmother abandoning King's Landing and Gael had not gone over well with her.

Eventually as the conversation tapered off and Rhaenys had started to make for her chambers to settle her children back home and refresh herself, one of the Kingsguard interrupted them.

"Ser Ryam, what brings you here?" Uncle Baelon asked of the Lord Commander.

"Apologies for the interruption, my prince. His Grace has commanded me to escort Princess Rhaenys to his quarters. He wishes to speak with her."

"Now?" Rhaenys asked.

"If possible Princess," the Kingsguard said.

Viserys shook his head. "Best not keep Grandfather waiting Rhaenys. I'll settle the children."

Rhaenys nodded and followed Ser Ryam, but she did not miss the meaningful looks that Daemon and Gael gave her as she left. Almost like they knew exactly what the King wanted from her.

As they made their way to her grandfather's chambers, Rhaenys wondered what he wanted of her. Why had he summoned her, not her uncle or her aunt, or even Viserys, why her in particular? As they reached the King's chambers, Ser Ryam nodded to his sworn brother, Ser Clement at the door, who opened it.

"This is where I leave you Princess," Ser Ryam said, before he took up a post beside the door with Ser Clement who closed the door shut behind her.

Rhaenys continued walking until she turned a corner and saw her grandfather sitting at a small round table in his bedroom.

"Rhaenys, my dear, welcome home," her grandfather said, smiling at her.

Every time she saw him, Rhaenys felt impressed at the strength her grandfather still had in his body. He was sixty-six years old, but still hale and hearty. His body had weakened and his bones had become brittle, but his mind was as sharp as it had ever been.

"Grandfather," she greeted before she embraced him gently and kissed him on the cheek.

"Take a seat Rhaenys," he said, gesturing to the other seat at the table. Rhaenys did so.

"How was your trip to Dragonstone? Is your grandmother well?" he asked eagerly.

Rhaenys felt that ever present twinge of sadness when she thought of the state of her grandparents' marriage. Ten years had passed, and still her grandmother had never forgiven him. Rhaenys feared that if she did not swallow her pride soon, they would die estranged from each other.

Taking pity on her waiting grandfather, she told him of how her grandmother was doing, told him that she was getting old, but was still healthy and hale much like he was. She was pleased to see that her words were soothing to him. He had tried pleading with her to return to King's Landing many times in the past decade, both in person and by heartfelt letters. Her grandmother had turned a deaf ear to them all, and had returned to the Red Keep only for her wedding to Viserys and Daemon and Gael's a few years later.

The two of them made small talk on the topic of her grandmother and Dragonstone for a little while, and her grandfather sounded very much like a wistful old man reminiscing over a castle he barely saw anymore. He might soon be too old to travel at all, and she made a note to herself to redouble her efforts to convince her grandmother to reconcile with her grandfather, at least partially. She knew their estrangement was only hurting both of them.

Eventually, they came to what had to be the true reason he had summoned her so urgently. "It was not just your grandmother that you visited on Dragonstone as we are both aware Rhaenys. Your cousin Daemon has been complaining quite loudly about it, and by now the entire realm knows that you have met with the Velaryons."

"I did, with my father's instructions. He said that you permitted it." Rhaenys felt the need to defend herself.

"I am not condemning you, Rhaenys," her grandfather reassured her. "I merely wanted to ask after your thoughts on your Aunt Viserra, and her family."

"What would you like to know?" she asked, a frown on her face.

"Tell me everything."

And so she did. She told him of her meeting with the Velaryons, of the dinner and their conversation with her grandmother and uncle and aunt about trying to convince him to remove the sanctions. She told him of her children mingling with the Velaryon children, of Viserra's offer to settle the animosity between them for the sake of their children.

"What do you think of that, Grandfather?" she asked cautiously. She was secure in her position and she could not take back her words to Viserra, yet her grandfather's approval was important to her nonetheless.

Instead of answering her directly, he asked a seemingly unrelated question. Drumming his fingers on the table, he asked, "How large would you say Dreamfyre is at this point?"

Rhaenys frowned. "Dreamfyre is as large as Silverwing, if not larger I would say. Balerion, Vhagar, and Vermithor are easily still larger than her of course, but that gulf matters little and less with the ancient dragons all being increasingly close to each other in size."

"Yes. Balerion's growth has slowed, Vhagar is catching up to him, and Vermithor and Silverwing, and now Dreamfyre I hear, are not far behind. And Dreamfyre's offspring? What of them?"

It was here that Rhaenys grew a little nervous. "Massive, far larger than I would have thought, to be honest. The elder two are easily a quarter or more of their dam's size, the younger two a fifth, and their growth is not stopping or slowing down either. It is quite likely that each might be a third the size of Balerion before they are even twenty years old."

That worried her grandfather it seemed, his eyes widened. "Vermithor grew that fast in my youth. To think that the Velaryons of all people would have dragons of that quality."

He continued to drum his fingers on the table, humming to himself before he answered. "Despite everything else, your Aunt Viserra is not wrong in this. It would be best if you ensured that your children befriended hers Rhaenys, it could bring only good tidings if they do. The Velaryons have five dragons already, and of increasingly alarming size. They must be brought back into the fold."

Rhaenys fought the inclination to raise her eyebrows. Her grandfather hated anyone doing that in his presence. Instead she asked, "You support reconciling with them then?"

"Reconciling with them?" her grandfather said aloud. "You could call it that I suppose. It must be done on House Targaryen's terms, not the Velaryons'."

"Why haven't you done it then?" She could not help but ask. Why was her grandfather continuing to persist in this feud with his own daughter, estranging himself from his wife, and straining his relationship with his eldest children, if he agreed with them that reconciliation was the way it should be?

Her grandfather smiled sadly. "A father can easily forgive his child, but a King cannot forgive his subject. If he is to remain king, he cannot be the one to fold or else others may question his will to rule and seek to undermine his authority. You must always tell your people you are right, even when your heart knows you are wrong. To show otherwise is weakness. Indecisiveness is the death of a monarch and a calling to the leeches and crows, and the rats and snakes of the realm to dine."

"And Rhaenys, even if I were to go against my every instinct and forgive Viserra, it is too late. There is too much bad blood between the Velaryons and I. My role in this cannot be to facilitate the rapprochement between our houses, my past experience with them will only taint that agreement, and make the Velaryon stubborner, more demanding of things that they should not have.

"No, the part that I will play in this will be the firmly opposed head of the family. By keeping to my restrictions on the Velaryons, in all their harshness and strictness, my successors will seem magnanimous in comparison, and Viserra and her family will have no choice but to take what is offered, allowing us to bring them back into the fold without our house looking weak to the realm. You are the second in line to the Iron Throne Rhaenys; when the time comes, I am counting on you to see this through. I will not live to see it."

"Me, Grandfather?" Rhaenys asked, confused. "What of my father?"

Her grandfather sighed. "Your father is a good man, he is a good Hand, and he will be a great king. I have never changed my opinion of that. However, much like myself I must admit, he can be blinded by his own vision of what things should be. Your duty as his heir, will be to support but also restrain that vision of his when necessary. As he has done for myself, so must you for him.

"It is crucial Rhaenys, that the Velaryons are brought back into the fold, but it cannot be done at the expense of our own house. Your father wishes to make the Velaryons an extension of our own house, shower them with honors and positions and marriages. Once that might have worked but now after they have defied us for ten years? We will look weak if we are so openhandedly generous to them. That is why Rhaenys, temper your father's generosity with pragmatism, be the firm iron fist beneath the velvet glove he intends to treat the Velaryons with."

Rhaenys nodded. She made to ask another question of her grandfather but he dismissed her. "Another time Rhaenys. I am sure you must be tired after your trip. My apologies for the sudden summoning. You should go now and rest. I find that I am in need of it myself."

"Of course Grandfather," she said, bowing to him before she took her leave.

As she walked away, Rhaenys overheard something she knew she was not meant to. Her grandfather sighed loudly and spoke sadly to his absent wife. "Alysanne, what did I do wrong?"

She hurried away at that, fearing that she might be caught eavesdropping on his deeply personal recollections. The Kingsguard opened the door for her when she knocked and she walked briskly towards her quarters.

If there was one word that Rhaenys Targaryen would use to describe herself right now, it was conflicted. She felt so, so conflicted, with so many of the people she loved and cared for pulling her in different directions, she feared that one day she might be torn into pieces.

She admired and looked up to her grandfather. He had taught her so much about governance and ruling in the past decade, and she had learned so much at his feet. He had trusted in her and secured her position as heir, it was only right that she strived to be a worthy heir of the Conciliator in return.

Like her, Viserys, Daemon, and Gael had spent much time with her grandfather and learned at his feet. Daemon believed firmly in the supremacy of their house, and he was of the opinion that the Velaryons' actions and their defiance of their grandfather was tantamount to challenging their supremacy and authority. He considered them upstarts, traitors even, though he was always careful to not say these things in earshot of his parents, who were greatly disquieted by his opinions.

Gael agreed with Daemon, but more than that her grievance with the Velaryons was greatly personal as well. Apart from the natural desire to support her husband, Gael resented that her mother, Queen Alysanne, had abandoned her for the sake of an older sister who had turned her back on the family. Her grandmother had left Gael to be raised solely by her grandfather and had secluded herself on Dragonstone for the past nine or so years, Rhaenys did not know what she was expecting would happen, but Gael was very much her father's daughter now, and lived and breathed his teachings more than even Rhaenys was willing to.

Many of her grandfather's teachings seemed to contradict her father's, especially on the matter of the Velaryons. Where she admired her grandfather, she adored her father. He had always doted on her and championed her, even before her grandfather had seen her worth. How could she not love and respect him, desire to follow his teachings?

However, there was no doubt in her mind that her father was not necessarily correct. Her grandmother, and her uncle Baelon and aunt Alyssa were all trying to sway her to their point of view on the Velaryons, and her father was supportive of this. They were blinded by their love for Viserra, or in her father's case, his own vision for the future that contradicted with her grandfather's.

Her own mother was staunchly against the Velaryons. She had never said it, but Rhaenys knew that she was still angry and bitter over the way her brother had died. Not to mention that even now, with a dragonrider for a husband and daughter, the Stormlords were difficult to rule, and many were still close to the Velaryons and overly confident because of it. It saddened her. Her parents had never fought when she was growing up, but once her uncle Boremund had died and her mother had ascended as Lady of Storm's End, their arguments over how the Velaryons should be handled had placed a strain on their marriage that broke Rhaenys' heart to see.

Rhaenys sighed. Her parents, her grandparents, her cousins, and aunts and uncles, all of them were trying to sway her to their side, to see the world as they did, and she was just sick of it all. She was so torn, so conflicted. She didn't know which path was right, whose teachings were correct. Perhaps it was a test of her ability to be Queen, but Rhaenys was struggling with it, and it was all because of the Velaryons.

It all came back to the Velaryons didn't it? Every line of division in her family right now was solely because of them and Rhaenys could not help but resent them for it. Viserra might have apologized for some girlhood wrong she had done to her, but that was honestly the least of her quarrel with her after all these years. Rhaenys had accepted her apology only because she knew that it was what her father would have wanted, and at least now she knew that her grandfather approved as well. Just a little tiny bit of the conflict warring inside her could be settled.

Viserys gave her some solace as well. Despite having the same pressures that she did, Viserys had an admirable ability to navigate it all. He was a family man first and foremost, and his dearest wish was that their whole family could get along. An admirable if tragically naïve notion. Had he been in line to the throne instead of her, Rhaenys wondered if it might lead to tragedy, yet as her consort it was exceedingly refreshing and essential to her.

She would not say that she was in love with Viserys, but she loved him nonetheless. He was her cousin, a close friend of hers by now after seven years of marriage, and he was the father of her children. She had asked him once, what his opinion on the whole matter was; did he agree with his brother and Gael or with his parents?

Rhaenys would never forget what his answer was. He had told her that his opinion, was hers. Whatever she chose to support or do, he would support it for her sake. It had meant a lot to Rhaenys, to hear that from him, and it had removed the last insecurities that she had in her marriage to him, that he would one day usurp the true power of the throne from her by right of being the male heir.

The children that they had been blessed with were their pride and joy. Viserys doted on Aegon and Rhaenyra lovingly even more than she did herself. They were beautiful, wonderful, and perfect, and mischievous, and full of joy and laughter. Her father and uncle's blood ran through them both, the union of their claims and lines, the future of House Targaryen.

Aegon would one day be the Second of His Name, and there was no doubt in Rhaenys' mind that he would live up to that legacy. Little Rhaenyra was already being called the Realm's Delight, perhaps one day when she had grown into a young maiden, her daughter might surpass her vain aunt Viserra as well. It was petty, but Rhaenys felt no small amount of pride and excitement at the possibility of Viserra being outdone by her daughter in what she had once valued most.

Young and innocent as they were, her children were uninvolved in politics and the family feuds. More than even their father, they had been Rhaenys' refuge from it all. They were precious to her, so very precious. Rhaenyra's birth had been more complicated than it should have been, and the Grand Maester had warned her that another child would be risky to carry and give birth to. Aegon and Rhaenyra were possibly the only children that she would ever have, and now she was being asked to throw them to the wolves.

Her grandfather and father were in agreement. Her children would befriend and mingle with the Velaryons in their childhoods, and they would become irreversibly involved in this damnable feud and their disagreements on how to resolve it. Her refuge would be gone.

So be it. Rhaenys wanted to be Queen, and both her grandfather and father had taught her that the Iron Throne came with duties and responsibilities that demanded sacrifice. A king should never sit easy, Aegon the Conqueror had famously said, and if Rhaenys wanted to prove that she could rule as well as any king, she must accept that for herself as well. The Game of Thrones continued, and Rhaenys had no intention of losing.

___________________________________________

Aemon

"Gold or red?" Aemon asked his siblings as they entered his solar in the Tower of the Hand.

"Gold," Baelon answered.

"Red," Alyssa said.

Aemon chuckled. "As usual then."

His siblings smiled as they took their seats. Aemon poured out their cups of wine and poured a mix of Arbor Gold and Red for his own cup. The three of them sipped for a while, sparingly, savoring the taste.

"This is good," Baelon said. "But I find myself wanting more Tyroshi brandy," he said to Alyssa.

"Ohh?" Aemon raised his eyebrows.

"Indeed." Baelon smiled. "Corlys brought a bottle of pear brandy, distilled in Tyrosh. It was exquisite."

"Sounds extraordinary," Aemon agreed.

"Oh it was. You should've been there Aemon," Baelon said, and Aemon knew he meant for more than just brandy.

He nodded. "I know. I was busy handling matters for the realm, and for Jocelyn in the Stormlands. I was also not quite sure how Father would react if I went as well. As Hand and heir, my meeting a house he has banished from court could undermine him."

"Or it could indicate that he is taking steps to resolve this pointless feud," Baelon pointed out. "No matter how our father takes it Aemon, you have to meet with the Velaryons in person if you wish to see this rapprochement through."

"It's not that hard," Alyssa said with a smirk. "You're the Prince of Dragonstone and our mother lives there. Just make a visit one day to see to your castle's affairs, see Mother, and if the Velaryons who live nearby on Driftmark had just so happened to visit on that day, well that's just a coincidence now isn't it?"

Aemon and Baelon both smiled at their sister's cheeky answer. It was so very typical of her, now especially. The melancholy that had once gripped at Alyssa had faded for the most part and it rarely returned. She was once again the jesting, bawdy, and bold woman she had once been. It did Aemon's heart good to see Alyssa's spirit had returned to her at last.

"How were they by the way? Viserra and her family? Letters can only go so far." Aemon asked.

"Viserra and Corlys are very different honestly. No longer such vain and arrogant braggarts. There's wisdom in their eyes now, a wisdom that speaks of many diverse experiences and years of hardship and learning. They're almost…humble," Baelon observed.

"The events in Tyrosh would change anyone," Alyssa said.

Aemon nodded, recalling the events in question. With Lord Quentyn Qoherys' constant reports, the Small Council and thus their family had remained relatively well informed about the events in Tyrosh. "For the better it seemed, do you think that they will be amenable to discussing the possibility of Tyrosh swearing to the Iron Throne?" he asked.

"Maybe. If you had asked me that before yesterday I would have said no immediately, but having seen how Viserra has changed in person, I think that may be more possible now," Alyssa answered.

 "You won't know for sure unless you speak with them in person and broach the topic Aemon, and I am sure that even if they are willing to submit Tyrosh to the Iron Throne, they would still ask for a great many things in return," Baelon warned.

"I'll have to arrange a meeting with them, perhaps more than one. There are some things they will definitely want. The removal of the sanctions is a given, the bare minimum for negotiations to even start. After that, I can imagine that they will want the Stepstones, and certain rights and privileges for Tyrosh."

"A lot to consider and discuss certainly," Baelon said.

"Our father is not young, but he's still in good health. It will likely be years before we could move forward with any compromise we come to. The longer this persists, the more the rift widens between our families. Rhaenys, Viserys, Daemon and Gael are very close to our father and so they will all have reasons to dislike the Velaryons," Alyssa interjected, a little concerned.

Aemon frowned. "I know Rhaenys is close to our father, but she is closer to me. I've always championed her right to succeed me. I have little doubt that she will follow my lead when the time comes."

Baelon nodded. "I noticed her speaking with Viserra in private yesterday. It seemed to have been a meaningful conversation."

"Perhaps, but Jocelyn is another influence on her as well," Alyssa noted.

Aemon's mood soured. Jocelyn's resentment of the Velaryons was perhaps not entirely baseless. Her brother's death along with his wife and son had taken them all by surprise and it had cost the Iron Throne hundreds of thousands of gold dragons which they had loaned to House Baratheon to help build the fleet which had sunk with Boremund.

Jocelyn still insisted that tragedy had happened because Boremund had needed to show that House Baratheon had the strength to rule in the face of the Velaryon-backed Tarths and other houses undermining their rule, something that was still happening now. He would most definitely have to demand that Viserra and her husband take steps to help him correct that; it was the least they could do if they were genuine about wanting a peaceful resolution to their feud.

Whether the Velaryons' actions had indirectly caused his death or not, the Stormlands had become very chaotic and difficult to rule ever since Boremund had died. Aemon had a feeling that it was only him and Rhaenys with their dragons that was keeping the Stormlords in line and begrudgingly obeying Jocelyn.

One day they'd be formally annexed into the Crownlands and answer directly to Rhaenys and the Iron Throne. He would have to take steps to ensure that transition went as smoothly as possible and reconciling with the Velaryons and forcing them to back down from their meddling in the Stormlands would help with that. Now if only Jocelyn could see that.

"Leave Jocelyn and Rhaenys to me," Aemon said. His siblings nodded. "None of us have any real influence over Gael, but Gael's voice alone will not amount to much if Viserys and Daemon do not back her. Will your sons fall in line with us?" he asked them.

Baelon and Alyssa looked at each other before answering him. "Viserys will I think," Baelon said. "Easily. He will follow Rhaenys and he's always been a family man, eager for there to be peace between kin."

"Daemon will not fail us," Alyssa said in turn. "Yes, he is close to Gael and our father and shares many of their opinions, but he's always been exceedingly dutiful and loyal to our house and to the commands given to him. Baelon and I are still his parents and he will heed us when the time comes. He won't like it, but if we are firm with him, he will obey."

"Perhaps we could arrange some marriages to help bind our families together and smooth over these rifts? Aegon with Laena perhaps? Rhaenyra with Jacaerys? Maybe even Baela and Rhaena to Lucerys and Daeron as well. It will unite the family lines and allow Baela and Rhaena to claim their dragons," Aemon proposed.

"Sounds promising. It will require more thought and discussion to finalize of course, but there is plenty of time. The children are all still very young," Baelon answered.

"Do you foresee the Velaryon children causing any problems?" Aemon inquired. He was not blind enough to think that his niece and nephews would not have the slightest resentment for his house after all their family had suffered.

His siblings both shook their head. "The four of them are adorable, precocious even. I can't imagine them being an issue and if they do, Corlys and Viserra have a firm hand over them and will see to them I'm sure," Alyssa reassured him.

Aemon nodded. There was a time that he had agreed wholly with his father's view on the situation. Though he had initially supported Viserra and Corlys against his father's betrayal of them and denying them the promised Lord Paramountcy of the Stepstones, Aemon had been enraged when they had then gone behind their back and conquered Tyrosh in a blatant act of defiance. It may not have been in Driftmark, but the fact that a vassal of theirs had dared to declare sovereignty and independence anywhere was unacceptable.

It still was, but Aemon was now willing to begrudgingly tolerate it and let bygones be bygones if they could move on to a greater future. When Tyrosh had first been taken, he had fully backed his father's punishment of the Velaryons and thought that they would reap what they had sown. They had, just not in the ways he had imagined.

Just as they had hoped, the Velaryons had encountered great difficulties ruling Tyrosh and transitioning it away from slavery while their backs were broken by the heavy sanctions his father had placed on them. For a time, they had thought that they might run out of money entirely and be forced to return to King's Landing begging for clemency as his father had desired. It never came to pass.

The first real crack had come when they had heard that Rhaekar Velaryon had died and Viserra and her husband – though none of them had cared very much for Corlys – had almost died with him. That particular piece of news had almost broken his family apart. His father had come so close to ending his feud with the Velaryons in light of the tragedy but ultimately he had rejected the notion. His mother had never accepted that; she had stormed away to Tyrosh to see Viserra and then later went to stay on Dragonstone, separated from his father.

Even now his mother remained estranged from him and it saddened Aemon to see it even if a part of him could not help but think that his father's stubbornness and pride was the cause of it all. He loved him dearly, and he would always remain loyal to him, but his father had made many mistakes. Aemon meant to correct them once he became king.

At the time, he hadn't been sure if his father's decision was the right one or not, but later on he had come to realize it most definitely wasn't. Within a year of that incident, the Velaryons had found Rhaekar's murderer and they had purged Tyrosh of all resistance to their rule in the Morghon Riots. Aemon remembered the Small Council being stunned by the news when it had been reported, especially because the report was that his sister had been in the childbed during the incident and so Dreamfyre had not contributed in any way. The Sea Snake and his soldiers had put down the revolt entirely on their own.

He remembered how his father had been relieved to hear that Viserra and her children were all well before the realization had set in and he had become enraged that Corlys Velaryon had won such a great victory, without a dragon. From then on, it had only gotten worse. Tyrosh was rebuilt and became increasingly profitable for the Velaryons, making his father's sanctions utterly useless.

Then recently they had even avenged the Sack of Velos by sacking and destroying most of Slaver's Bay and conquering New Ghis; amassing a massive treasure hoard from the loot of that campaign, including unprecedented amounts of Valyrian steel. Far from being punished for their defiance, the Velaryons were stronger and wealthier than ever and no longer reliant on Westeros at all.

After his father's gambit in the Stepstones Crisis had failed, Aemon had known it was time to give up on making House Velaryon submit by force. He had ordered Otto Hightower to stop antagonizing the Velaryons and he had started reconsidering old ideas that he had put aside.

What felt like a lifetime ago, just after Jacaerys and Lucerys had been born, and before everything had gone to the seven hells and back between his father and the Velaryons, Aemon had proposed a plan to his father. A plan in which they would turn House Velaryon into an extension of House Targaryen in all but name, binding them to their side with continuous intermarriage, honors, tax breaks, trade concessions, charters, and court positions. Anything and everything that would remind them of the ties of kinship and that working with House Targaryen would be safer, easier, and far more lucrative than opposing them would be.

Did some prideful part of him still demand that the Velaryons be humbled deep down? Yes, of course, Aemon would be lying if he denied that. However instead of being proud and foolish, Aemon would rather be pragmatic and successful. That humbling was never going to happen. They were not willing to go to war with House Velaryon and kill their kin, and even if they were, such a conflict would be greatly costly to them. Dragons and family members would die on both sides and with them great swathes of land and thousands of lives; such a massive and shameful waste of resources.

Why not instead swallow his pride and work to reunite the two houses under a common cause and shared interests? With their combined might, who in the world could stand against them? Who would dare challenge over a dozen dragons and all the wealth, armies, and fleets of their two houses?

No one. The names Targaryen and Velaryon would be feared and revered throughout the world entire. While it grated at his pride that his beloved house would have to share that power and prestige with another, the Velaryons were their kin, Targaryens in all but name at this point, and they had been traditionally allied with his house ever since they had left Valyria. Perhaps it was always going to end up like this, one way or another.

The Velaryons were the last piece of the puzzle. They had the Stormlands, and by complete accident. They had had the Faith and the Citadel ever since Maegelle and Vaegon had helped them move the two great institutions to King's Landing three years ago; they were headquartered in the eponymously named Great Sept of Jaehaerys and the King's Citadel now. They had all of the work that his mother and father had done to shore up the power of their house throughout the rest of their reign.

All that they needed now was the only other house of dragonlords in the world, the only other house that could ever truly challenge them. If they could be brought back into the fold, if they could work with Aemon and his house once again instead of against them, a new era might dawn for House Targaryen, allowing it to reach greater heights than ever before and become truly all-powerful and unstoppable.

That was his vision and there was very much indeed that Aemon was willing to give to see it realized.