Chapter 55: Preparing the Floor

Sixth Moon, 115 AC

Daeron

"Have you finished packing?" Daeron asked his sister, trying desperately to have a conversation with her, even if it was just smalltalk.

"I have," she answered without even turning to look at him.

It had been a few weeks since their dramatic and heart-wrenching falling out with Aegon. The sixth moon of 115 AC had begun and their parents had informed both of them that the family was to visit Tyrosh and greet Jace and Luke upon their return, a change of plans from the previous plan which had summoned Jace and Luke to return to High Tide.

Daeron was all too aware of why the plan had changed. Their parents had told him and Laena precisely why they were seeking to return to Tyrosh for the first time in over ten years. His mother's dreams, the prospect of war, it was something that the family needed to discuss immediately with their closest advisors and inner circle gathered, it was something that they needed to speak with Jace and Luke about as soon as possible.

More than that however, and his mother had looked a little uncertain and apologetic when she had brought it up, Tyrosh was the ideal place to hold a wedding ceremony for the family. The Targaryens had already announced a double wedding ceremony at year's end in the twelfth moon for Aegon to Helaena and Jaehaerys to Rhaenyra and their parents meant to answer it with a wedding announcement of their own soon enough. For Daeron's wedding to his sister Laena. It would take place at the exact same time as the Targaryens' weddings, a direct challenge.

Ever since then, Laena had barely spoken to him, and every time that he had tried she would find some excuse or another to escape it. They still hadn't really talked about his feelings for her, or how they had both rejected Aegon and been cursed by him for it either.

"Laena… talk to me. Please?" Daeron pleaded. "It's been a week. You can't avoid me forever."

"I'm not avoiding you," Laena denied as she finally turned to face him. At his unimpressed look, she continued with a sigh. "Maybe I am… just a little. I… I just can't stop thinking. Of what Mother said, of what he said. You get to marry me and I know you're not the kind of person but I just can't help but wonder if there wasn't anything ulterior to how you answered Aegon's offer back then."

Daeron smiled sadly. "And that is why our parents have long impressed on us the importance of communication."

Laena returned his smile but hers was even sadder. "Yeah I guess."

"How long have you known?" he asked. There was little need to clarify.

Laena took a seat on her bed. "A few years I guess. I know you very well Daeron. It didn't take long to realize how your gaze would tend to linger, how your hands seemed to be resisting the urge to stray during our embraces."

Daeron scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that."

Laena shook her head. "It's in the past. Water under the bridge. It doesn't matter anymore. For what it's worth though, you did a very good job restraining yourself and staying proper. But why Daeron? And when? How did your feelings for me change? Am I still your sister or just some woman that you want to fuck? Are you in love with me? Or is it just lust?" she asked, questions and worries in her lustrous indigo eyes, their father's eyes.

Daeron knew he needed to answer quickly. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself as eloquently as he could. "You will always be my sister Laena, and I will always love you as such no matter what else happens."

That seemed to reassure Laena so he continued. "As for when I began to feel something more than just brotherly love… it must have been six years ago. When Father reminded me that I would now be the one who would marry you if the Targaryens did not let you marry Aegon. It was the first time that I ever considered the idea and it sparked my interest in it.

"You're gorgeous Laena. Beautiful and lovely beyond compare. Any man would be lucky to have you and the idea that I could be that man… I started to desire it, to desire you. But I always loved you beneath it all, even if just as my sister if nothing else. So I held my peace and said nothing. Rooting for you and Aegon to succeed all the while instead while I buried my desires deeper and deeper and died inside.

"And then the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I was falling in love with you, truly falling in love, a romantic love, like our parents have, not the kind between normal siblings. I began to dream of what our life could be if we wed, of you following me on my voyages around the world like you expressed interest in, the things we could do together… and I knew then that my feelings had reached the final stage, and yet still I held them back out of respect to you and Aegon."

Laena sighed but he could see that her expression had become much more understanding and less defensive now. "And did it affect your answer to Aegon's offer?"

"No," Daeron denied. "Not to offend you Laena or to make small my feelings for you, but I did not even think of it when I rejected Aegon, not in the way you are thinking at least. Let me explain.

"When Aegon first broke his promise to us I was furious. I felt betrayed by what he had done, how he had broken his word to us, to you. It angered me as a friend, as a brother, yet as a man, deep down I had felt almost relieved. And I hated that I felt that way. Which is why I didn't say anything for so long, I couldn't trust myself. The more time passed however, the more I realized that regardless of what my feelings were, Aegon had turned his back on us, betrayed us. And then that day came and I just couldn't hold back my anger and displeasure with him anymore. You remember what came next I'm sure.

"When… when he made us that offer. I barely even thought of the fact that rejecting could let me marry you. All I could think of was what would happen if I accepted it. And Laena, for a moment I was so very tempted.

"As much as I idolized Jace and Luke, they were so much older than me and so inseparable from each other that it always felt a little like they were distant from me. I could never surpass either of them in being the other's confidant. But with Aegon it was different. He was the brother I chose, not one that I had simply been blessed to be born with. My best friend, my truest confidant. The idea of restoring our friendship to what it had once been, to get back my old friend, the brother I had loved so dearly… it tempted me.

"I let myself imagine that future. A future where I was Aegon's Hand, his brother in truth as well after marrying Helaena. I would be the Lord of Driftmark and the Stepstones. I would have power, and wealth, and fame all in my own right. An inheritance so much greater than I would inherit otherwise. Aegon had offered me everything but he had asked for everything in return.

"I couldn't stop thinking of how disappointed our parents would be in me. That the daring and dutiful son they had raised had turned traitor to his true brothers. I couldn't help but see Jace judging me. He had sacrificed his own love for me, for family, and I couldn't sacrifice a worthless friendship?

"I realized then, that I had always been a fool to consider Aegon like a brother to me. A real brother, a real friend, doesn't ask you to turn your back on your entire family for them out of their own pride and selfishness. So I rejected his offer, and he rejected us in turn."

"Do you regret it?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "I've made my choice. I can't take it back and I won't even if I could. I will not betray our parents, or our brothers, our real brothers, who have been there for us our entire lives. Who have always made the right choices for our house, whom we've both admired and adored since we were old enough to even walk."

Daeron continued. "What I do regret however, is that it came to this point. That things deteriorated so much that we had to choose. That we couldn't have it all."

Laena nodded slowly, seeming to process his words. "I guess Aegon just didn't know you as well as he thought he did. If he had, he would have known that his offer could never have convinced you. It was never Driftmark or the Stepstones that you wanted, it wasn't Helaena, it wasn't lands and power. You wanted to adventure and explore, you wanted to be loyal to family and friends, you wanted so many things and Aegon offered you none of them."

'You wanted me,' went unsaid.

"He didn't know you either did he? Or maybe he did once but in his desperation and rage, he had blinded himself to it," Daeron said.

"Indeed," she answered sadly. "To be honest, despite loving him dearly, I have had many misgivings about marrying Aegon for years. To marry Aegon, I would have to leave the safety and comforts of our close-knit family for the Targaryens who dislike me. Rhaenys and Viserys would have been distant at best and cold at worst. Daemon and Gael would have hated me for being Mother and Father's daughter and taking the queenship from their daughter. Jaehaerys and Rhaenyra would not have been likely to be very close to me either.

"And deep down I was afraid. What if the worst came to pass? What if war began? I would be stranded on the wrong side of a war against my own family. Every ship and soldier I burned would have once adored and loved me as Zaldilaros. Every dragon I faced in the sky would be ridden by you, by Mother, by Jace and Luke.

"I was afraid that war was inevitable and Aegon was just trying to get us on his side before it started. And I was right. Marrying Aegon wouldn't have solved any of my problems, it would only have created a thousand more. I made the right decision rejecting him, we both did and yet… it still hurts so much. Is it wrong that I miss him still?" Laena begged him.

Daeron's heart squeezed painfully as the woman he loved told him she missed someone who had hurt them so, and yet…

"No," he answered. "I do as well a little," he confessed. "I miss the friend I grew up with. I like to think that that friendship was real once."

"Perhaps it was," Laena said. "But it hasn't been for years. Somewhere along the way we lost our friend and he morphed and twisted into this cruel and selfish bastard. Into someone who is going to start a war just so he can try and tear us down."

"Only if his mother doesn't beat him to it first," Daeron said darkly.

Laena winced at his words. He could relate. The suspense was agonizing. They only knew for certain that war would come but not when and not how. The idea that Rhaenys would start it was not implausible and that was terrifying. Uncle Aemon was hardly young.

Laena seemed to have nothing more to say for now so Daeron took a seat on her bed beside her and for a while they just sat there, brooding on their thoughts. Finally, Daeron broke the silence.

"What's the future for us Laena?" he said. From the look in his sister's eyes, he knew that she understood he was not referring to the inevitable war with the Targaryens but to something else entirely.

Laena sighed but turned to look him in the eyes. "I've always thought that I would marry Jace or Luke if I couldn't marry Aegon. Once they married Baela and Rhaena, I knew that you were the other option. I've known that for six years. You are a wonderful person Daeron, a good man, kind, handsome, daring. Anyone would be exceedingly fortunate to marry you and I know I consider myself to be as well."

"But you don't love me in that way," Daeron said.

Laena smiled at him sadly. "I love you as my brother. I always have. If you're asking me for something more than that though… no."

Daeron nodded. He knew that was so but it was hard to not feel hurt.

"But maybe I could," Laena continued.

Daeron looked up at her, feeling hope in his heart. His beautiful sister's smile was bright now and seemed to light up the whole room.

"We have always been close. The twins were off in their own world at times, you and I were close in age and we grew up thick as thieves. I see you as a brother and love you as such, but in time there may be more. That's all I ask from you Daeron. I need time to get over my feelings for Aegon and move on."

Daeron nodded appreciatively. It was more than he could have hoped for. He was mourning the death of his oldest and dearest friendship himself. He would not begrudge Laena mourning her unfulfilled first love. She wasn't his wife yet. Above all else she was his sister and he had to respect her wishes.

"I can speak to Mother. Have our wedding postponed," Daeron began.

Laena shook her head. "No. Politically and strategically I understand exactly why they want to have it sooner. I have no opposition to marrying you Daeron, I just can't promise you the love that you want, the love that you deserve. Not now."

"Then I'll wait Laena. As long as it takes. I love you," he said.

Laena smiled. "I love you too."

It was not the love that he desired, but it was enough for Daeron.

________________________________________________

Eighth Moon, 115 AC

Jacaerys

It had been around three months since they had set off from Corlantis when they finally sighted the Queen of Cities. They might have made it in two months but their long tour in the Summer Islands had delayed them, not that Jace minded. They had had quite a fun time in those idyllic paradise islands and the local culture's appreciation of lovemaking had done wonders for his nights with Baela.

Still it was good to be home at last. He hadn't been back to Tyrosh in almost two years. Seeing the familiar Bleeding Tower welcome them as they flew over the harbor filled him with joy. He hadn't realized just how homesick he'd felt until he'd finally come home. The sight of the Black Fortress in the far off distance brought an even greater feeling of euphoria and excitement.

One that was soon cut through by slight confusion. As they approached Zaldilaros Palace, Jace noticed Terrax, Shrykos, and Dreamfyre resting in the palace grounds. Luke and him had received the summons from High Tide and had intended to go back north to see their parents and siblings but it seems they had grown impatient and had decided to come to Tyrosh instead.

He supposed it did make sense. They must be anxious to see to their health personally, his especially, and learn firsthand what happened in Gogossos. Still it was strange to see Dreamfyre in Tyrosh. The dragon and his parents had not been in the city for over ten years before now.

As they landed in the courtyard in front of Zaldilaros Palace, Jace watched as his parents and younger siblings hurriedly ran out and greeted him and Luke, seeming to not care about propriety.

His mother eagerly pulled him into a hug and held him tightly. "Oh my son, I was so worried!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you Mother. I'm home now," Jace said as he returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his mother.

Eventually she broke their embrace to greet his brother Luke. His father and younger siblings each greeted him and Luke in turn after that, asking after their health and wellbeing. They greeted their family members warmly and cheerfully, doing their best to reassure them. All of them were particularly worried about Jace due to his stint with the Red Death but seeing him perfectly well and healthy seemed to have mollified them.

During all of this, Jace made an effort with his twin to ensure Baela and Rhaena were not left out of the conversation as far as possible. He wanted to make them feel at home, like they were part of the family. They deserved no less. Their tribulations in the Basilisks had tempered their bonds with fire.

The Dragonkeepers came to tend to their dragons shortly after that and Jace's wife and siblings followed his mother into the palace so they could relax and refresh before lunch was served. Jace lingered behind however. His father had almost beckoned him to stay with a meaningful look on his face.

"Do you think I made the right choice in Gogossos?" Jace asked him uncertainly.

His father looked at him and he seemed faraway, like there was something troubling him. "Does it matter what I think? You were in command, and I entrusted you with full authority to make every decision. It turned out exceedingly well in the end didn't it? You've brought back so much wealth and knowledge with you, so much that could benefit our house… and it only cost you four thousand lives and almost dying yourself. Many would call that a bargain."

"Would you?" Jace wanted to know.

"I think, that you have proven your ability to make hard decisions. And that is something our family will sorely need," his father said grimly.

Jace didn't know what he meant by that and his father would not say. Not now he said, today they would celebrate their reunion, and tomorrow they would speak about many important matters.

They had lunch together after that, the eight of them sat at a table with Cousin Vaemond and his family. Uncle Aurane and Aunt Alys had also come to Tyrosh with his parents and three of their sons were with them, though Rhogar and Malentine were to in the Basilisk Isles for the foreseeable future.

As they ate, Jace and Luke related to their family stories about the Basilisk Isles, about fighting corsairs and chimeras, the bonds they had forged and strengthened with each other and their wives, and of the current state of the Basilisks and future plans for their development with Cousin Rhogar as Governor.

Jace gauged from his family's reactions and comments that there was a general approval of their expedition's outcome even if they disliked how he had personally been quite reckless and risky. Nonetheless the rewards had seemed to dull the edge of their disapproval but they had implored him to be more careful in the future. Their descriptions of the chimeras and the Red Death seemed to disturb everyone and the general sentiment was that they did well eradicating both from the world even if there was some sadness over the tragic loss of four thousand men to accomplish it.

Throughout the meal and the storytelling however, Jace sensed something else at play. His father's grim and dark mood that had suddenly appeared and gone earlier was present in most of his family members, but especially in his mother and younger siblings. He would catch them looking troubled and even melancholic before trying to hide it.

He was swiftly growing concerned. After lunch he tried asking each of them what was troubling them, but like his father they had told him to wait until tomorrow. Something important had to be discussed then they said. Tomorrow could not come sooner at this point, Jace thought. That night Jace went to sleep troubled and very curious.

When he awoke in the early hours of the morning, he found that Baela was not beside him. The Tide Guard and maids had told him that she had wanted to speak to the maesters and healers about something but had told them to reassure him to not worry as there was nothing wrong.

Jace's first instinct was to ignore her plea and go find her. It was his duty as her husband to worry about her. Still… his planned meeting with his family was supposed to be soon and Jace was quite eager and impatient for it. If there was anything important that was troubling his family members so much, he needed to know.

Sighing, he reluctantly decided against looking for Baela. He trusted her judgement and if she felt nothing was wrong he would heed her words… for now. Once his meeting with his family was over, he would be sure to check on her.

The meeting was to take place in the Archon's solar, the very same one that he normally used when he acted in that capacity (Vaemond had a separate solar entirely). When he arrived at the solar, he saw that several Tide Guard including the ever loyal Ser Jaremy Gottwell had been posted at the door and in a large perimeter around the room. It was clear that this solar not only held many members of his family, but that whatever was to be discussed was of the utmost importance and secrecy.

When he entered the room, he saw his parents seated at their rightful place as rulers of Tyrosh for once. Uncle Aurane and Cousin Vaemond were seated beside them though Aunt Alys and his other three cousins were absent. His three siblings were seated at the opposite side of the desk from their parents and laid out on the table between them was several maps and sheaves of notes.

Luke turned to look at him as he entered and Jace was much concerned to see that he too now bore the grim and worried expression the rest of the family had tried to hide from him yesterday. As he took his seat directly opposite his father, Jace's patience had run thin.

"Alright spit it out. What's going on? Why do all of you look so grim and melancholic?" he demanded.

His father began, "Before I say anything else Jace, I want you to know that none of us blame you. Perhaps it was always going to turn out this way."

"What way?" Jace pressed.

Looking over to his younger siblings beside him, his father continued. "I'm sure you have heard of how Aegon delayed his ultimatum and ultimately succumbed to his mother's wishes to marry your cousin Helaena by now. You haven't heard the full story however."

At his father's nod, Daeron and Laena began to tell their tale of how Aegon had approached them with a ludicrous offer wherein Laena would elope with him and Daeron would be named the Heir of Driftmark and the Stepstones. It was madness!

He found himself growing wroth at the duplicity Aegon had shown in trying to split his inheritance in two and seduce his brother and sister to his side. He was touched by their loyalty to him and their house, that both had rejected Aegon's offer immediately.

What they told him next of how Daeron and Aegon had fought because the latter had cursed them and cast aspersions over their honor by suggesting they were copulating with each other infuriated him however. It was probably an open secret in the family that Daeron was attracted to Laena but to suggest that he would ever do something so dishonorable? That Laena would betray her beloved? Jace was outraged on behalf of his siblings that someone that claimed to be their friend and beloved for so long would think so lowly of them.

His already dwindling opinion of Aegon Targaryen had reached rock bottom. The man was a jealous, selfish, and incompetent cur who had most likely tried to kill him to boot. Fuck him.

His mother spoke up then. "The very same day that Daeron and Laena fell out with Aegon, I had a dream. A dream that has since repeated almost weekly. A vision of dragons of infinite colors and sizes fighting in the skies. A premonition of a pale fortress with silver towers atop a hill surrounded by rising tides, burning beneath dragonfire." Her expression was grim and haunted.

Jace froze. "You dream of a war between dragonriders."

His mother nodded mutely.

Jace leaned back into his seat in terror. He had feared the possibility for many years ever since his father had spoken to him about it that day on the yacht, it was why he had been so desperate to recover all of Gogossos' knowledge. Yet to hear it all but confirmed was a nightmare he hadn't even been able to imagine until now.

He knew now why his family had been so grim and melancholic. The future King had fallen out with their house and hatred had been sown between them, his mother was already near hostile to them. And now his mother was dreaming of the destruction of High Tide? The warning was obvious. War was inevitable when Rhaenys ascended the Iron Throne.

A horrifying realization came to him. "Is this my fault? Because of what I did in the Basilisk Isles?"

His parents shared a glance before his father comforted him. "No Jacaerys," he said, using his full name to stress the seriousness of his words. "Your success in the Basilisk Isles might have sparked this chain of events, but they were inevitable regardless. We realize that now. No matter how much we tried to appease the Targaryens, it was never enough for them unless we submitted ourselves wholly to them once more and out of our pride and concern for our safety, that was never going to be something we could do."

"In some ways you were right Jace," his mother said with a bitter smile. "You were right. All those years trying to appease the Targaryens, trying to play nice with them, it all amounted to nothing in the end. Why did we even bother?"

"So war between House Targaryen and House Velaryon is inevitable. What are we going to do about it? Just give up and die?" Luke demanded.

"No," their uncle Aurane said. "First thing to keep in mind, stop calling it war. Call it a dance from now on."

"A dance?" Jace asked, confused.

His father nodded. "Short for 'Dance of the Dragons.' It's the ideal codename to confuse the Targaryens if it ever leaks out to them. The last thing we need is them learning that we believe war is inevitable and are making plans for it."

Jace nodded in understanding. "In that case, this meeting is almost like we are preparing the floor for this 'Dance'."

His father smirked briefly. "An apt analogy," he said before his smile faded away. "You sacrificed four thousand lives in Gogossos Jace. In the report you sent ahead of you back home, you justified it as being 'necessary' for the security and safety of your house. You've known for a long time that war with the Targaryens was a possibility so now I'm asking you, what do you think you found in Gogossos that could help us so much?" his father asked him, almost begged him.

Jace was quick to answer. "Blood magic. Lots and lots of it. It will be difficult and dangerous to learn but from what I have read so far, there may be spells that could allow us to heal ourselves or our dragons from mortal injuries. We could cast pillars of flame from our hands to attack the Targaryens in the skies. There might be some ways to strengthen or speed up the growth of our dragons with blood magic as well, but I am loath to test those spells. The Gogossi were never allowed any dragonlore or specimens so all I have are their own hypotheses. Dragons are magical creatures in their own right so who knows what could happen?"

His father's face was grim. "I am wary of using blood magic. It is a dark and twisted art, incredibly dangerous. And it requires sacrifice, oft human sacrifice. We might end up selling our souls for it."

"Do we have a choice?" Jace asked.

"Perhaps not," his father said darkly.

"It's not just blood magic," Luke interjected. "There is a truly jaw dropping amount of Valyrian steel. If we melted it all down, we could make maybe a hundred swords? Maybe more. And we already found five, plus one more from that Lyseni corsair king. Jace and I were thinking that instead of swords, we could make armor, custom fit for the members of our family, plate and chainmail both. We've enough to equip all our dragonriders and then some in full sets."

Jace nodded eagerly in agreement with his twin. "Valyrian steel is impervious to dragonfire. If we wear it into battle, we may not be able to survive a direct and prolonged blast of dragonfire, but it would help us resist the ambient heat and any strafing blasts."

"It is not the first time we have considered reforging Valyrian steel. After we got the collection from Slaver's Bay, we looked into contracting some of the Qohorik smiths to reforge it for us. They turned us down near immediately, disgusted with our freeing of the slaves," his mother warned.

"How hard did you try Mother? Really? We had enough swords already and reforging was a great expense so you never really tried all that hard. Now though we have more than enough wealth to bribe these smiths' objections away. Not to mention the sheer amount of Valyrian steel we could offer them to work with should appeal to them. Any true craftsman would leap at the ability to work with such a high-grade material," Luke explained.

"It's worth looking into. What do we have to lose?" Laena said.

"The far-eyes and the new double-eye binoculars that all of you already use would be of vital importance as well, letting us spot and track enemy dragons and armies from much further away. As far as I recall, the Targaryens don't really use them. Their ignorance and complacency will help give us another advantage but this is not something I imagine they will sleep on forever so it may not last long. If only we had something else, some other way of tracking the Targaryens' dragons, then things would be so much easier," his father said, deep in thought as he pondered the problem.

His father's words brought another idea to Jace's mind, one so obvious he felt like slapping himself for forgetting. "Glass candles!" he all but shouted as he leapt up from his seat. Some of the others looked confused but his father had already clued in if the beaming smile of realization on his face was any indicator.

He was quick to continue so the others could understand. "We found dozens of glass candles in Gogossos and even books on how to make and use them. If we master the glass candles, we could instantaneously communicate with each other from worlds apart and scry where the Targaryens are at any moment. We might even be able to peer into their dreams and minds to manipulate them or see their plans, though that may be dangerous. Think on what that could mean for a dragon war."

Daeron was quick to grasp it. "Even if we don't directly influence the Targaryens, instant communication with each other and knowing where they are is a huge advantage for us. We could coordinate attacks on them easily, fly out at any time with no fear knowing exactly where they are."

"Perhaps there's hope for us after all. The glass candles could win us the war," his mother said.

"And they would prove immensely useful in the hands of our Conches, who could be trusted to keep them secret given their discretion," Laena said, her finger pressed to her temple thoughtfully.

"We can't use them as a crutch however. Please tell me the rest of you came up with other plans while we were away?" Luke said.

His father nodded. "Yes. We have been discussing them quite extensively. Your mother and I have agreed that in the event of war with the Targaryens, we should immediately abandon Driftmark. High Tide is destined to burn anyway and we could never possibly hold it, betwixt King's Landing and Dragonstone as it is.

"We would gather up our dragons further south and take care to not split them up too much so we aren't outnumbered and destroyed as much as possible. We're not fighting for the Iron Throne but rather for survival and independence. In the event of a Dance, armies and navies are irrelevant. The primary focus will be destroying the enemy's dragons and any strategic targets. We will not split up our dragons and leave them and their riders vulnerable babysitting armies and fleets."

"Sounds good," Jace said, sitting back down. "Though I am loath to abandon Driftmark so easily. Just because we know we cannot hold it doesn't mean they do. We could lay a trap on Driftmark, or a bait of some kind to distract them while we accomplish our objectives elsewhere. We will need to regularly rethink our strategy as time passes and the situation changes. Anything else?"

"In the past I have considered ideas, on how to fight dragons with non-magical means," his father began. "Enhanced scorpions and the like perhaps but –"

"We ride dragons as well," Luke pointed out.

Their father nodded. "Yes. Even if we could make weapons or methods to reliably fight or kill dragons without magic or other dragons, do we even want to? The risk is too great that it could spread to our other enemies and rivals and we will be in a tough position. I don't think it's even possible anyway, not with how technology is at the moment and I do not think we could advance it far enough to make it so.

"There are other things I have considered however. Namely improving our textile industry. Tyrosh has a lot of lacemakers and weavers that fled from Myr or migrated from the rest of the Free Cities. We could have the University researchers look into developing sewing machines or cotton gins or stronger and larger looms powered by water wheels or windmills.

"This would help create a booming textile industry, with easy mass production of clothing benefitting the lives of our people. The large looms could let us create sail cloth in very large pieces, maybe even one single peace, reducing failure points in our sails from sewing smaller pieces together and letting us have lighter and stronger sails in our ships, which is quite beneficial for our trimming and tacking.

"Apart from increasing our wealth, this textile industry could be turned to making 'parachutes' for you dragonriders that would slow your descent or gliders. In case your dragon is slain, you could still survive. If we consider combining this with your ideas for Valyrian steel armor, we could create armored flight suits with integrated glider wings that would both protect you and give an emergency escape. Maybe colored glasses or visors in your helms to help block the sun and wind?"

Jace agreed, "Those all sound promising. We will need to train extensively as well. Push ourselves and our dragons to the limit, increasing our endurance, our strength, speed, and agility. We will need to race between Driftmark and Tyrosh more often, strengthening our dragons and making them able to make that trip faster and faster, and with less energy. We will need to practice dragon dueling as far as possible as well. Acrobatics, aerial maneuvers, mock fights against each other, the like."

"We could call those exercises Top Dragon," his father said with a slight smile though all of them were a little confused what exactly he meant. Their father had a tendency of saying some cryptic stuff at times.

Jace just nodded and took it in stride. "Sure. It could be disguised as a friendly competition in case the Targaryens grow suspicious but hopefully they don't notice us doing it. We don't want them starting on it either, it will dull our advantage."

"Forgive me for interrupting," Cousin Vaemond said suddenly, speaking up for the first time in the entire meeting. "It seems to me like we are avoiding the simplest and easiest solution. If I remember correctly, dragons can fly between King's Landing and Dragonstone in half a day no? Why don't we just put all five of our dragonriders on Driftmark and wait for the right moment to strike when all the Targaryens are in the Red Keep? We can destroy the Keep and the Dragonpit in a surprise attack one night, wiping out House Targaryen and winning our house the war in one fell swoop. We needn't lose Driftmark at all and could even take the throne of Westeros in addition to our territories."

Vaemond's plan was pragmatic and ruthless and just a little bit eager and vindictive. His buried grudge against the Targaryens for his father's death had reemerged, Jace could tell from the look on his face. His mother and siblings looked horrified but Jace and his father both knew that what Vaemond said made sense. Still it wasn't a plan they could carry out.

"Theoretically we could Vaemond," Jace said. "But in practice it's much more complex than that. There is an element of risk that cannot be escaped even with a surprise attack and at present we are simply so outmatched by the Targaryens we risk effectively committing suicide. Not to mention, most of us are not in the emotional state to carry out such slaughter of people who are still our kin. My mother cannot and will not kill her older siblings, Daeron and Laena are still fresh from the wounds of their recently broken relationship with Aegon and Luke and I cannot kill our wives' families…"

Luke and him turned to each other, their faces dawning with horror and realization. In their fear and worry, they had forgotten about Baela and Rhaena momentarily. Their wives, their Targaryen wives, with Targaryen parents and younger siblings. Parents and siblings that were soon to be literally joint by to the hip to Rhaenys and Aegon. The same Rhaenys and Aegon their house was destined to go to war with.

"Fuck," Luke said ever so eloquently.

"Fuck indeed," Jace continued crassly. "Fuck!"

Their parents looked pitying and sympathetic. "You can't tell them," their mother said firmly. "Not now, maybe not ever. You know what has to be done to bind them and their dragons to our house for good and make sure they keep their mouths shut."

Luke nodded grimly. "We have to have children with them."

"Children or chains?" Jace remarked bitterly. Once they had confessed their feelings for each other, Baela had told him what had held her back. She had been afraid of being forced to choose between her husband and children and her parents and siblings. She had been afraid that any child she had with him would be a chain that tore her away from her parents the same way it had torn his mother from hers.

She had told him… she had told him that she thought it could be different now! That she and Rhaena believed they didn't have to choose if they simply fought for it hard enough. That she loved him too much to worry too much about that anymore after almost losing him. And Jace, the man she loved, was going to make her worst fears come true without her even knowing.

"It has to be done," his father said sympathetically. "I'm sorry. And you will need to have a lot of children as well, the more you have the less likely they will be to betray us. Between the two of you and Daeron the next generation of our house will be much larger than the Targaryens, who only have two sons, so we could potentially even surpass them in the number if not size of our dragons. If we can delay the Dance long enough, we could go to war with twenty or more dragonriders rather than just seven. We could even look into building a Dragonpit in Tyrosh perhaps and try to hatch some eggs in advance so the dragons are as large as possible."

"Can you stop talking about our children like pawns on a chessboard?" Luke demanded angrily.

"Oh Luke. Do you not think it hurts your father and I to do this? To consider our children and grandchildren as simply weapons of war? To throw you all on the frontlines? We've tried avoiding this for so long because of that horrible future but it has to be discussed and it has to be done, no matter how uncomfortable or painful it is. We don't have a choice otherwise anymore or we'll all die," their mother said pleadingly.

Jace turned away from his parents, trying to hold back the rage he felt. It wasn't fair to take it out on them. For so many years he had longed for his parents to show their teeth, to be the ambitious and ruthless firm leaders who had led their house to such heights of glory and power once more. Now he wondered if maybe it was a bad thing that the Corlys and Viserra Velaryon who had attained ultimate victory in Tyrosh and Slaver's Bay had returned to the forefront of their personalities.

Yet they were the Corlys and Viserra they needed to win this war, and Jace who had always been so much like them both, he needed to be the man who had thrown four thousand lives away in Gogossos just for the chance of knowledge and an advantage. Luke was right. He and his parents were the hard decision-makers their house needed if they were going to stand a chance to win. His siblings, bless them, were too soft to make these choices. Jace and his parents would have to take on the burden of command and the weight of sin on their conscience.

His father changed the topic, perhaps realizing how much it was upsetting them. "Daeron and Laena are getting married in twelfth moon. We've set the date to be the same as the Targaryens' double wedding."

Jace looked at his siblings, both of whom met his gaze and nodded. It was a little weird to think of his little brother and sister marrying but he supposed that they were half-Targaryen. Hell, for many years Laena and he had wondered if they might even marry each other. He knew Daeron had feelings for her and he hoped that they found happiness with each other.

"The idea is well, beyond being a petty snub of the Targaryens, it will force our allies in Westeros to choose which wedding to attend. In that way we will know for sure where they stand."

"We should place our Conches in advance with those who prove leal. Prepare an escape route for them to be smuggled out if need be. If we're fighting for independence, it wouldn't be right to ask them to fight with us but the Targaryens may go after them anyway," Laena said.

"Yeah," Jace agreed, thinking of Cassandra and her brothers and Addam and the rest of their allies and kin in the alliance. "That's a good idea."

"Would there be any chance the Targaryens object to Daeron and Laena's marriage?" Uncle Aurane asked. "The Doctrine of Exceptionalism is solely for Targaryens after all."

"Leaving aside that we have our own Exceptionalism in the form of the Zaldilaros Creed and are an independent state in our own right here in Tyrosh where the wedding will be, even the Targaryens' Exceptionalism could allow their marriage. One of the septons my father sent out to preach the Doctrine told a dissenter who asked mockingly if he could marry his sister as well that if he went to Dragonstone and got a dragon to ride, he'll marry him and his sister himself.

"While it doesn't explicitly allow for it, the whole basis of Targaryen Exceptionalism is riding dragons, being a pure dragonlord from Valyria with different blood and customs and ways, immune to the deformities and madness incest causes in lesser men and the diseases that so often afflict them. My children fulfill every one of these criteria and are Targaryen in all the ways that matter through me, lacking only the name," his mother said.

"In other words uncle, we should stop caring what the Targaryens think. Even if it causes a scandal or some other petty nonsense. We're going to war with them anyway," Jace interjected. "And along that line, I have a proposal. I think we should take Lys and Myr. Relations with the Targaryens are irreparable in the long term, the Dance is already inevitable so we might as well try and increase our power as much as possible in preparation."

His father sighed. "Now is not the time to preach about your imperial ambitions Jace. Focus on winning the damn Dance first won't you?"

"Just hear me out Father. Look at this map," he said pointing out where Tyrosh and its small strip of hinterlands on the continent were. "Look at us! Look how small we are! We are dangerously reliant on our dragons to keep Tyrosh safe. Without them Volantis could push us into the sea with ease, maybe even further.

"Who's to say that they won't attack us during a crucial moment like the Dance? Or even worse, actively ally with the Targaryens? We could be surrounded by dragonriders and massive armies on all sides and we'd be finished. And even if we win the Dance, what if we are so weakened with too few dragons or maybe even none left to defend ourselves? For our safety and security, before, during, and after the Dance, we have to expand and cut Volantis and Pentos down to size.

"This is what I'm thinking of," Jace said as he took a pen and began drawing a line on the map. "We'll expand and place our border along the Rhoyne in the north and then down to Dagger Lake, following the river until near Selhorys we back off and draw a line to the Orange Shore, absorbing the entirety of Lys and Myr and all of their claims in the Heel of Essos and beyond.

"It would increase the wealth and power at our disposal by more than three times, which can only help in our preparations against the Targaryens. Yes, armies and fleets are secondary but if we're going to war I'd like to at least try and take back the Stepstones if we can, they're another region we have to take for our long term security. We will need conventional forces for that and to fend off any the Targaryens throw at us whenever our dragons are preoccupied. At the moment they outnumber us both in dragons and in total men, materiel, and ships. That's unacceptable."

"A well-argued point. Are you sure about this though? That's an enormous amount of land that we will have to integrate and that could distract us from war with the Targaryens," his father asked. "Not to mention the difficulty of transitioning away from slavery like what happened in Tyrosh."

"Definitely. The key priority is to deny these lands and power to Volantis and Pentos so that even if not fully under our control, we have a good buffer between our seat of power in Tyrosh and the other Free Cities. Though to be honest we should probably move our capital further inland eventually so it's further away from the Targaryens. I'm thinking Myr, it will be centrally located in our realm and it has a good amount of distance from any enemies. If we build a Dragonpit, it should be there not Tyrosh.

"As for integrating the new territories, we have a reputation among the slaves. I have spoken at length with the leaders of the Triarchs in both cities and they have assured me that they could incite a slave revolt in both cities at any moment and majority of the slaves and population would see us as Seven-chosen liberators. The chaos that would cause would be an opportune moment to strike.

"With an established powerbase in Tyrosh immune to sanctions and a template to follow in abolishing slavery and transitioning the economy away from it, we should have an easier time too. Lys and Myr don't really have Buzantys Corps like Tyrosh did since the latter was originally founded as a military fortress not a trading outpost. Lys and Myr have also been under foreign domination for decades so even its elites may see us as liberators and if they aren't pragmatic enough to emancipate their slaves and join us, we could simply get rid of them. I am tempted to remove them entirely from the start so we don't have any Towers or Dyes to worry about but if some few prove useful and decently trustworthy, they could be made peers.

"We also have to remember that this is expected of us. I saw firsthand for myself in Gogossos what the potential danger of our Zaldilaros Creed is if we don't live up to what the Creed claims about us. We're supposed to be heroic liberators of slaves and the slaves in Lys and Myr certainly cry out for liberation. The Triarchy movement has become very powerful and popular in all three cities and if we do not eventually act on their desires, we may lose the faith of our people."

"So what?" his mother asked. "You want to reform the Triarchy?"

"That's right. The name may cause confusion with the Ruling Triarchs of Volantis but we have no reason to care about that. It can be a snub against them and a reminder that we, not they, have more right to Valyria's legacy. It will be a realm made up of three major regions but none are sovereign and all are subject to one ruler. The Prince of the Triarchy. You Father," Jace said.

His father looked a little surprised but nodded. "I may be the head of our house but this is ultimately your dream Jace, your ambition. You will be handling most of the day to day administration of this realm as my Regent and representative."

"Fine by me," Jace said happily. He would have gladly stepped back and let his father rule if he so chose but he couldn't deny he was pleased to be the one handling his Triarchy, his empire.

"I also will not be taking the title of Prince and shall instead remain Archon."

Jace frowned. "Why ever not? The size of this realm is by right a kingdom or even an empire and we need a greater title to reflect that. I can understand why neither of those titles work given we are still nominally sworn to the Targaryens and it would be an insult too great for even Uncle Aemon and Baelon to brook but why not Prince? It is still lesser to the King no?"

His father shook his head. "It implies our equality to the King's family members and is an affront to the royal status of House Targaryen. Not to mention by taking a princely title, it would be a challenge to them, a reminder that we could so easily claim a higher one too. We want to avoid angering the Targaryens if we can so we can delay this Dance as long as possible. If we win the Dance Jace, you can take whatever title you want, but until then we have to restrain ourselves."

"Whether we take Prince or not, the Targaryens are as unprepared for a Dance as we are and as unwilling to pursue one right now. Uncle Aemon, Uncle Baelon, and Aunt Alyssa are all still alive and they will surely rein them in. Not to mention I doubt even Daemon and Gael would so unhesitatingly attack us with their daughters married to Luke and I."

"That further reinforces the urgency of you and Luke having children with them Jace. An uncomfortable topic to reduce your wives and children to simply your bargaining chips and shields I know but binding Baela and Rhaena to us by blood is a necessary security step for us to conquer the Triarchy you so desire. And even then I wonder if it's enough. The Targaryens may not want to start a war yet but they are so fed up of us expanding they will certainly interfere and that interference could lead us all bumbling into war anyway. A war we will surely lose at this point in time. We have to think of something else to distract them," his mother said.

"I have an idea," Daeron spoke up. "When Aegon was still… cordial with Laena and I, he told us that his grandfather was considering an invasion of Dorne to finish the cleanup from the Fourth Dornish War decades ago and repair any damage to his reputation for trying to offer us such a good deal. You can imagine the prestige Uncle Aemon would get for doing what not even the Conqueror could and taking Dorne. He could easily establish his legend as a king on the level of his father and great-grandfather.

"Now with our enormous success in the Basilisk Isles, the Targaryens' pride is hurt and to save face and look as impressive as we are, they can't consider conquering Dorne anymore. They have no choice but to. Most of Dorne despises the Targaryens for slaughtering so many in the Fourth Dornish War and if their resistance from the First War repeats itself, I have no doubt they could distract the Targaryens long enough for us to carry out our own conquests."

His father was cautiously optimistic. "Dorne never truly recovered from either the Dragon's Wroth or the Fourth Dornish War. The Targaryens have ten adult dragons and riders for war compared to the three Aegon the Conqueror did. It will be risky for us to bet it all on that, especially since Dorne is ever so close to Tyrosh. I have an idea to help add to the Targaryens' distractions.

"It's been a long time since we even really thought of the Western Alliance very much or even considered them a rival, but back when we still did, I had made some connections in the Iron Islands, fostering a relationship with them that could help keep the Western Alliance in check. It wasn't really a major effort worth thinking much about nor could it really go anywhere because we would have been in great trouble with the Targaryens if we were caught red-handed sponsoring ironmen to attack. However, none of that really matters anymore does it?

"Anyway, the situation in the Iron Islands is a lot more precarious than many believe. They've been so insignificant we don't really think too much about them but I still have a few Conches there and they've reported to me that there have been signs of dissent for decades.

"King Aenys allowed Goren Greyjoy to evict the Faith of the Seven from the islands back in 37 AC but after your grandfather built the Great Sept of Jaehaerys and took over control of the Westerosi Faith of the Seven, they were allowed back into the Iron Islands. The Zaldilaros Creed and the other accomplishments of us and the Tyroshi sect of the Faith had lit a fire under the Westerosi Faith with them wanting to prove as fervent in stamping out slavery and proselytizing as the Tyroshi were. They petitioned Jaehaerys to let them back into the Iron Islands and once they were they got right to work proselytizing to the thralls and doing missionary and charity work, preaching against thralldom, saltwifery, and reaving.

"All of this has brought them into conflict with the local Drowned Men and the nobility. Tensions are rising. Not to mention the advancements and innovation of the Western Alliance, the western coast has become very rich and developed in the past few decades and the Iron Islands have seen almost none of it. Western coast houses now use carracks and caravels while ironmen are lucky to even have galleys sometimes. They've tried their best to innovate and catch up but no one likes them so they can't learn much from anywhere and they're not really smart enough to do it themselves.

"The Ironmen and their longships have been left behind and they hate it. It grates on their pride that those they once reaved are now stronger than them and they can't do anything about it because they're too scared of the Targaryens and their dragons. The Greenlander Faith has come to their islands and is now preaching to their thralls, and they don't even have anywhere to reave anymore. The Stepstones are Targaryen, the Basilisk Isles are ours, and Volantis is too strong to really raid. They're a barrel of wildfire just waiting for a spark.

"We can provide that spark. I can deploy more Conches into the islands. Infiltrate the Drowned Men, secretly supply some funds and designs to the locals that will help them be more competitive with the Western Alliance. Then when the Targaryens are busy in Dorne, we incite violence between the Drowned Men and the Septs and the whole region should go up in flames, adding yet another distraction the Targaryens have to deal with and giving us more time to conquer and establish the restored Triarchy and sell it as fait accompli before the Targaryens can do anything about it," his father finished.

Jace laughed. "Brilliant plan Father. I love it. It's settled then. Between Dorne, the Iron Islands, and the kinship between our mother and Baela and Rhaena and their family, we have a window of time and a leash long enough to forge our Triarchy. We have to make it count."

"If you want to use Baela and Rhaena as shields, you have to make damn sure they're on our side. Simply being married isn't enough anymore. Take it from me Jace, once they have children with you and Luke, their loyalty switches to House Velaryon whether they like it or not. I know you don't like it but that's what you and Luke have to do," their mother said.

Jace nodded reluctantly. "It's inevitable that we'll have children anyway and we're long past time to start on it besides. We should have time though. I don't imagine the Targaryens will go to war until their own newlywed pairs have children either and they're only marrying at the end of this year. It will take time to plan a war too. I imagine four years or so until they start their Conquest of Dorne? So we will have until 120 AC to finalize our plan and all its preparations."

"I'm not going to be able to go on my voyages will I," Daeron said suddenly, looking very downcast.

They all looked at him sadly. "Probably not until after we take Jace's Triarchy Daeron. Maybe not ever. With a Dance looming, you and your dragon being halfway around the world dangerously weakens our house. We need you here," his father said.

Daeron looked bitter but he nodded understandingly. At that, his father concluded the meeting. "It's been a long morning and a heavy conversation that I think we all need a break from. We can continue another day but for today I think it's time we adjourn."

Jace got to his feet but before they all left, his father spoke again. "I know that the prospect of a Dance is worrying for many of us. In a war between dragonriders, we have to be prepared to lose our lives, to lose everything. But we are House Velaryon. There is no tradition that we dishonor, no oath that we will forsake, no battle that we will cower from. We are the Old, the True, and the Brave, and we will have victory."

"Hear hear," Daeron said approvingly.

"The Old, the True, the Brave," Luke saluted.

"Velaryon and Victory," Jace chanted.

It might all just be posturing, some fancy words they said to try and convince themselves they weren't preparing to die in the deadliest war their house would ever fight, but Jace felt a little better about his family's chances after his father's speech.

Leaving the solar, he tried to get his mind off the meeting and what had been discussed. It would only sadden him and make him melancholy. He had faced death once before and facing it again couldn't be more terrifying than it had been the first time. Jace refused to cower from death and live a pathetic half-life in fear. No he would thrive and do everything he wanted to do before he died. He'd almost lost that chance once before; he would not let himself lose it again.

Remembering that he had to check on his wife, Jace made his way to the healers and maesters asking after her whereabouts and health. They reassured him that she was perfectly healthy but had retired to their chambers. They seemed oddly secretive on what it was that she had consulted them for however, only telling him that it was something he should hear from her himself.

When he arrived back in his chambers and opened the door, Baela all but flung herself into his arms, almost vibrating with joyful energy and cheer. Jace chuckled and kissed her fondly before asking what had gotten her so excitable.

"I'm with child!" she told him proudly, happily, and Jace froze.

He had known it would be a possibility of course. She had slowly stopped taking moontea after leaving Corlantis and they had stopped being careful in any way after their visit to the Summer Islands and its suggestive love temples had inspired them. Still Jace hadn't thought that it would be so soon.

He found himself reeling at the thought of being a father and yet despite his uncertainty and unreadiness he couldn't help but feel happy about it, euphoric at the idea of having a child with his lover, his adorable and beautiful wife. And then the illusion shattered and he remembered that the Dance loomed over their heads.

Jace's mood soured and the guilt began to consume him. Baela was already wondering about names for their child, if it would be a boy or a girl, how to introduce them to her parents and force them to play nice with him, and all Jace could think about was how much Baela would hate him when she found out what he had done to her.

He would force upon her the same fate that Laena had narrowly escaped. To be stranded on the wrong side of a war against your own parents and siblings, to be forced to fight and maybe even kill them with your own dragon or be killed by them. Far from being the blessing Baela so clearly believed it to be, the time might come that Baela would see their child as a curse, a chain that tore her from her birth family and tethered her to another that was plotting to go to war with them and kill them.

By his own deeds, Jace would betray this beautiful and sweet girl who so loved him. Condemn her to a miserable and tortured future. Break her down from her bold and fiery feisty self into a melancholic mess forced to choose between her husband and children and her parents and little siblings.

His heart squeezed so painfully he thought he was going to die. He had thought he had loved Cassandra because of how much it had hurt to let her go. Jace had been a naïve young fool. He hadn't known at all just how much love could hurt until now. He loved Baela far more than he had ever loved Cassandra and it only took breaking her heart to realize just how much.

"Jace? Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"You're crying." Baela looked very worried for him now.

"Am I?" Jace queried as he touched his hands to his eyes and his fingers felt wetness. "Ohh. I guess I am."

"Why are you crying?" Baela was very confused and concerned.

Jace put on a bright smile. "I'm just so happy right now. They're tears of joy," he lied. It was not the first time that he had lied to Baela but had thought he was done with that after Gogossos. It seemed he wasn't. He would tell her a thousand more lies before it all ended and she would never forgive him for it.

It seemed that the dream he had for a great love and marriage would be forever out of his reach. Cassandra was lost to him and one day Baela would be as well. But Jace was only so strong and as much as he hated himself, he could not help but pretend that all was still well and draw comfort and happiness from a wife that loved him while it still lasted. He pulled Baela into a tight embrace and began kissing her almost desperately, hungrily pushing his tongue into her mouth and for once she submitted easily rather than fighting back for dominance, melting into the kiss.

As he kissed Baela and slowly led her to bed to celebrate the 'good' news, Jace let himself pretend that he wasn't betraying the love of his life. He soothed his own broken heart in her tender kisses and loving embrace knowing that he was going to destroy her one day. He was the worst husband ever, scum, the lowest of the low, and he couldn't even have the decency to not use her body or accept her love before she found out about his deception. He was truly pathetic.