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Chapter 37: Chapter 27: ReturnChapter Text

"The giants were on the verge of extinction before Rhaenyra's Mercy. In 107 AC, they numbered at less than a thousand. But with warm homes in the south, and plenty of food, as promised by Prince Rhaenyra, their population boomed, such that by 197 AC, they numbered at nearly four thousand."

-Excerpt from a textbook published in 200 AC

107 AC, King's Landing

Father was angry that I had run off to war without his permission, but I knew the ways of getting a wrathful parent to back down. I'd always found it easier to beg forgiveness than get permission, and this was no different.

I began it all with a parade, having the army under Ser Criston Cole—Lord Commander Westerling perished fighting in the vanguard alongside his men— escort me home in triumph.

Horns and drums echoes through the streets, even as the bells of the city rang jubilantly at our return. Through the Gate of the Gods we marched, serenaded by the thunderous cheering of the crowds. Flowers and petals fell like rain, as people waved banners and streamers. The dragons flew above us all, all fourteen that we deployed at the Kingsroad Rout. Bearing great banners, they circled us all, drawing shapes on the sky with their dragonfire.

At the front of the procession rode Ser Criston Cole, riding a tall white stallion. Surrounding him were the other knights of the Crownlands, clad in their tourney finest, leading a riderless horse for Ser Harrold Westerling. Ser Jessamyn and Ser Jonquil rode with them as well, the two female whitecloaks being cheered enthusiastically by the girls in the crowd.

Behind them marched the infantry, all clad black with red cloaks, boots striking the ground in a single crisp sound. Behind them were our prisoners, surviving lords and ladies of Dorne and the Triarchy, clapped in chains and leashed like dogs.

"FIRE AND BLOOD! FIRE AND BLOOD! FIRE AND BLOOD!" The people chanted as they marched past, throwing rotten vegetables and fruit at the prisoners.

The cheering stopped, gasps coming up when the people saw whom came behind the prisoners. A dozen giants, all clad in plate forged by northern blacksmiths, bearing their signature flanged maces and giant longbows. They all wore Velaryon banners as capes, the favour bestowed upon them for their defence of Spicetown.

But when the people saw me, cheering broke out anew. I sat atop the Seastone Chair, looted from the ruins of Pyke, mounted on a great litter and hoisted up by four of the giants.

Silver Prince! They chanted, eyes alight with near-religious fervour at the sight of me. Seven's Chosen! Defender of the North! Scourer of Pyke! Defender of the Vale! Saviour of Driftmark! Avenger of the Stormlands!

I waved lazily down at the crowd. I never liked being onstage too much, or the center of attention in a public event, but I'd gotten used to it over my years as a Targaryen.

Through the cheering crowds we paraded, for what must have been over an hour, before we reached the gates of the Red Keep. My throne had to be set down in the courtyard, and I marched the rest of the way on foot, entering the throne room to thunderous applause.

I strode forwards confidently, before kneeling smoothly before my father. Behind me, everyone else that accompanied me into the room followed suit. Even the giants, bending down like tall ironwood trees breaking.

"Daughter." King Viserys said, glaring down imperiously at me. Huh, he really was angry. But he wouldn't shame me publicly, not when I had returned in triumph.

"Father." I smiled. "I'm happy to be home."

"You have been gone for nigh half a year." Viserys ground out. "You left without telling me, nor getting my permission to leave. Vanishing off the face of the land with eight dragons."

His eyes flicked to the giants.

"You better have one impressive explanation for all this." He growled.

"Why, Father, I think it self evident." I grinned. "The realm was in danger. I saved it."

"You need not have done such reckless deeds!" Viserys ground out. "We could have reached a diplomatic solution with the Ironborn, Triarchy and Dorne. One that required no spilling of blood."

"Near half the population of the Stormlands was butchered. Neither the Triarchy nor Dorne was interested in peace. They wanted our heads on pikes." I scoffed.

"But what about the Greyjoys? They were willing to sue for peace, and I agreed, yet you murdered them all." He demanded.

"Father, you're too soft. Rebels and invaders should be served steel and fire, without mercy or quarter, lest you tell every single person in the world that they can take up arms against us and walk away, not only unharmed, but with full coffers." I patiently explained, as though I was teaching a petulant three-year-old why he couldn't play with fire. "You are opening yourself to extortion. And failing in your role as Protector of the Realm."

"You contradict yourself, daughter. The Wildlings invaded, and yet you gave them citizenship, lands and titles as a reward."

"They agreed to surrender, and bent the knee, hence I helped them back to their feet. I gave them warm homes and food, and would receive leal service and fealty in return." I defended myself. "Have received leal service and fealty in return."

I stood up and placed a hand on the nearest giant's elbow (I couldn't reach her shoulder, even when she knelt).

"Hun Eg Els Dor Tor here led eleven of her fellow giants in the defence of Spicetown, saving Princess Rhaenys herself." I announced. "When the battle was over, Hun here personally carried my wounded cousin back behind our lines, for medical treatment."

"Fight at Sea. Princess, I save." Hun rumbled in broken Common Tongue. "For warm home and food. Gave oath at weir-tree. I save Prince family, Prince save mine."

There was a ripple of amazement among the assembled lords and ladies. I don't think they realised Hun could speak. Admittedly she was the best at the Common Tongue among the giants, most of them still not understanding anything other than the Old Tongue, but still. This was proof that giants weren't dumb savages.

"And for that, I am eternally grateful." Viserys thanked, genuinely. "You and your family will be welcome in the Seven Kingdoms for as long as House Targaryen rules."

"Thank you, dragon King." Hun replied.

"You see?" I asked. Walking back to the front. "I gave the Free Folk citizenship when they knelt, allowing us to secure our northern border and gain fresh subjects. I did the same for the Vale Mountain Clans, ending a millennia long feud. Now, the Vale no longer has to spend so much of its income on their forts and soldiers. They can grow, fill their coffers and become as wealthy as the other kingdoms."

There was a rumble of approval among the Vale lords present, holdovers from my mother's time.

"Lord Jonas Blacktyde, interim leader of the Ironborn, has promised an end to all reaving and raping." I added. 'He's already mobilised the Iron Fleet for us. While he didn't make it in time for the Rout, at least he spared no effort in doing so."

Now there was an enthusiastic response from most the room. Even Lord Otto was smiling at me. Less Ironborn raids was always a good thing.

"For someone whom espouses cooperation and fealty so much, you still had seventy thousand men burnt at the Kingsroad." The king growled, but he was losing the room. Everyone approved of what I had done. And he knew it.

"We were beyond peace when those men butchered over half the population of the Stormlands. I had to avenge them." I solemnly said, faking a sniff and tears. "I regret that it had to be, but it was necessary."

"My king." Lord Corlys spoke up, moving to stand by my side. "Your heir did well. The Prince has proved her worth, in both diplomacy and warfare. She's defended the realm and broken our enemies."

He inclined his head towards Hun.

"Made us new friends and secured our internal safety." The Sea Snake said. "She has done tenfold the duty any good Prince should. So please, forgive her impertinence and youthful recklessness."

The King of the Seven Kingdoms looked down at us, eyes stormy as conflicting feelings warred in those pools of violet. Time to double down and hammer it in.

"Father, please. I beg your forgiveness." I pleaded as pitifully as I could. "I wanted to make you proud, to prove myself a worthy heir to the Iron Throne. I wanted to be like Uncle Aemon and Grandpa Baelon. Grandpapa told me about them. Said they were bold and decisive. They never hesitated to take up arms or defend the realm."

At the mention of my grandfather, something shifted in my father's eyes. He sighed.

"Yes, I know how it was like to be young and reckless as well. You're like your uncle Daemon in that regard. He spent most his childhood fighting boys way older than him, and when he was your age, he always snuck into hunting parties or patrols. He claimed Caraxes at eleven, and immediately took the Blood Wyrm to burn pirates in Blackwater Bay." Viserys nostalgically said.

I frowned at the comparison. Oh god, was I turning into another Daemon? I bore Dark Sister, coveted the throne, and was already a skilled warrior at age ten. Shit, the more I thought about it, the more parallels lined up.

"You're right daughter, you were right as always." He sighed, unaware of my discomfort. "But it's a father's prerogative to worry about his daughter."

He shook his head, rising to his feet.

"Well, enough ceremony. The war is over. We have won, thanks to the actions of my heir." He announced. "Let us begin the celebrations!"

———

107 AC, Throne Room, Red Keep

I wasn't used to being popular with women. Oh sure, I had great romantic success. Yuuki was the most beautiful girl in school, and even after breakup, was still willing to let me into her bed. Alice was bisexual and totally chill with me cheating on her so long as I asked permission first. I'd even talked those two into threesomes more than once.

But by and large, I never attracted a great quantity of ladies. Quality certainly, but not quantity.

Which was why I was rather flustered during the celebratory ball, when half a dozen noble maidens came up to me asking me for stories of what I got up to in the past half a year, giggling at everything I said and flattering me non-stop, with personal space slowly becoming non-exsistant.

Thankfully, while Laena was content to snicker as I was slowly encircled by a wall of female flesh, Laenor took pity on me and yanked me out of the group. He immediately dragged me over to the Dragonseeds' table, which was much better.

"So what are you going to do with the Triarchy and Dorne?" Aerion asked. "Burn them to the ground like you did to their soldiers?"

"First off, I am aghast that you would suggest that. It's so wasteful." I replied, swatting the nine-year-old on the head. "Second, we scouted the Triarchy out after Frozen Ford. Tyrosh, Myr and Lys are fortified so heavily they make Skyreach look like a fifth-rate keep in a fourth-rate location belonging to a third-rate landed knight paid with second-rate coin and first-rate stupidity."

Once the kids finished laughing at my joke, I continued my explanation. After Frozen Ford, I took my companions across the Narrow Sea, hoping that the Triarchy would be undefended and that making an example of one of their cities would be enough to end the war. However, I was utterly disappointed. Searchlights and braziers burned through the night, illuminating the skies. Ballistas and scorpions were manned constantly, spears pointed into the sky awaiting any potential dragon. There were great water towers and barrels filled with seawater at every major intersection, to douse any potential flames.

Even if we loaded up every last skycart with wildfire, it'd be insufficient to even destroy half of the siege engines. We faffed around for a bit, trying to see if we could find traitors or the like, but had no luck. I'd considered burning their border armies and potentially getting Braavos or Volantis involved, but neither was really interested in war. Braavos was willing to bankroll our campaign against the Triarchy, but not fight on our behalf, and Volantis was still licking their wounds from the last tussle they had with the Three Daughters.

Then Shaeterys raised us by glass candle, informing us that father was capitulating to the Greyjoys and that was it for our Free Cities adventure.

"Oh, so that was why nobody could find you in Westeros." Shaera Fyre laughed. "You were in Essos this whole time!"

"Pretty much." I shrugged.

We turned our attention to the giants, whom were seated in a corner. Hun was trying to tell my father that she and her fellow giants were vegetarian, which was something that seemed hard for him to wrap his head around. Though at least the Queen had more grace and ordered vegetable dishes provided.

Everyone burst out laughing as Alicent taught the giants how to toast their wine, and Hun proceeded to knock her bucket of wine against Viserys' goblet, bowling the king over unintentionally. To his credit, my father seemed to find it amusing as well, and laughed alongside the lords.

Mushroom then wandered over and looked up, and up, and up at the giants, before letting out a dramatic sigh and lamenting that he could no longer say he had the biggest cock in King's Landing.

I'd been worried that they wouldn't settle in well, but it seemed that my fears were unfounded. Everyone seemed more inclined to stare in wonder and awe instead of treating them like savages or beasts. It helped that the King was visibly friendly with them, and clearly curious about their culture and life, listening with childlike awe as Hun described an encounter with the Children of the Forest.

"The Children are real?" Grand Maester Gerardys asked excitedly,

"Yes. Not many squirrel people left, but they real." Hun agreed. "Live ess of Fist, wester of Ant-ler river. Give stoneglass for food."

"What did they look like?" Viserys asked. Hun pondered the matter before pointing at Mushroom. She said something in the Old Tongue, at which I nudged Daenys forward, wordlessly asking the linguistically-inclined girl to translate. I spoke High Valyrian, and a bit of the Old Tongue, but Daenys was my superior in this regard.

"Smaller than Mushroom. Thinner too. Big eyes and ears." Daenys answered. "Smell like leaves and earth. But about as cheeky."

There was a good amount of laughter at that.

"And why didn't they come south with you?" Viserys asked, Daenys repeating the question in the Old Tongue to make sure that Hun understood. Hun beckoned another giant forward, and he rumbled something, Daenys nodding at that.

"According to him, Bael invited them to join his host and march on the Wall, but the Children of the Forest preferred to stay. Stubborn folk that they are." Daenys translated. "They live in caves beneath the earth, hiding from the cold down there."

She frowned at something another giant said, before speaking once more.

"And they don't trust the Andals. They butchered too many Children. All that are left is a dying remnant." Daenys mournfully translated. "They live for centuries, but have few children."

"I'd like to meet them someday." I spoke up. "Mayhaps I can offer them homes in the south. Let them regrow their numbers in warm lands with full bellies."

"Prince good. Give home and food. But squirrel people stubborn. They hard trust." Hun lamented.

The rest of the party went by fairly quickly. Before long, I found myself back in my own bed, cuddling Laena as usual.

After half a year in the field, it was good to be home.