comstar

She glanced over at her brother. His smile had not faded in the slightest and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He had done that on purpose.

"A pleasure to meet you Ser Halys," Rhaenys said as she turned her eyes back to the knight. She took off her left gauntlet and offered him the hand beneath to kiss which he did so politely.

"I was just about to ask Ser Halys where his liege and half the garrison seemed to have gone," Aegon explained.

"I beg your pardon Your Grace, but Qhorwyn Hoare is nothing more than a fourthborn son the black-blooded tyrant imposed upon us after he murdered Lord Jason and his whole family when the rebellion was crushed five years ago," the Hollard knight said bitterly.

"A sentiment I more than understand my friend," her husband said sympathetically. "Yet legally at least, Qhorwyn Hoare was the Lord of Duskendale these past five years was he not? Is there any reason in particular why he is not here, in the town that he claims to rule?"

"Harren the Black summoned him. Your preparations for this war did not go wholly unnoticed I'm afraid Your Grace. Word came of armies being raised and trained for some time and Harren came to believe that you intended to use your domains in Crackclaw Point as a foothold with which to invade. The bulk of your army being deployed there a few months ago only confirmed his suspicions. Qhorwyn Hoare was ordered by his tyrant father to march and reinforce his brother Othgar in Maidenpool. He took all of his Ironmen and most of the town's levies and guards with him and left me in charge of what remained about a moon and a half ago."

"An unwise decision perhaps, but it seems none expected us to land at Duskendale as well in addition to our attack from Crackclaw Point," Aegon observed amusedly.

"What of the other houses in the region Ser Halys? Staunton, Buckwell, Rosby, Stokeworth, Hayford, Hogg and the like?" Rhaenys asked.

"All of them were ordered to raise their levies and call their banners. Where Harren wanted their armies to go, I was no privy to. I just recall Qhorwyn Hoare complaining about the 'treasonously' slow pace of their mustering. As far as I know, none of those houses have completed their mustering as of yet, citing various excuses to delay their march. Only House Staunton took the order seriously since they are on the border with Crackclaw Point."

Aegon and her shared a look. They had known some of this already but there was only so much glass candles could tell them. Firsthand information like this was exceedingly valuable.

"If I may ask Your Grace, where do you intend to go from here?" Ser Halys inquired.

"Well I did proclaim myself the King of Rivers and Hills when I asked for your surrender did I not? I would expect my intentions were clear enough from that," Aegon replied with a slight frown.

"Ah my apologies Your Grace. I of course surmised that your ultimate intention was to dethrone Harren, a most noble goal if I may say so myself and I can promise you that if you stay true to your word of being a just king, many Rivermen will follow you gladly. I was hoping to hear what you had in mind for Duskendale itself though. What future do you envision for our town? Do you intend to rule it directly or give it to someone else to hold as your vassal?"

Was Ser Hollard perhaps hoping he could be that vassal, Rhaenys thought amusedly. If so, he would be rather disappointed. Aegon's reply was polite but firm.

"I don't intend to hold Duskendale myself of course. I already have a man in mind to hold the town and oversee the surrounding region on my behalf," Aegon said before he turned to call the man in question over. Quickly their uncle came, walking over swiftly from where they had been in the other part of the hall along with his sons.

"Ser Halys, meet your new direct lieges, my uncle Lord Daemon Velaryon, and my cousins, Aethan, Jacaerys, and Corlys, some of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing," Aegon said with a smile as the Hollard knight bowed respectfully.

"Uncle, is your new seat to your liking?" Rhaenys asked with a smile.

The Lord of the Tides smiled happily. "It is indeed. A prosperous and wondrous town."

"City rather," Aegon corrected. "I'll write up a new charter once Harren is defeated."

Rhaenys knew of course that that charter would empower the local burghers, artisans, and guilds as well so that House Velaryon would not become overly mighty but it was still a fine reward nonetheless that would greatly enrich Duskendale and House Velaryon alike. Their cousins and Ser Halys all looked pleasantly surprised and their uncle seemed almost overcome with emotion.

"Thank you, Aegon, Rhaenys, for everything," he said reverently.

Aegon smiled. "You are most welcome uncle. You are kin, and most importantly you have been a trustworthy ally and servant. All of this is the reward for loyal and good service, for the counsel and aid that you have given to my siblings and I ever since our father died. Let it not be said that House Targaryen forgets its friends when it comes into its power."

Suddenly Aegon turned and climbed the steps to sit in the old stone throne of the bygone House Darklyn before speaking loud enough that the whole hall was called to attention. No longer did Aegon speak as a nephew to an uncle, now he spoke with authority and power, as a king to his vassal, an aspiring emperor to his servant.

"Daemon Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, kneel. And your sons as well. Renew your allegiance and your oaths of fealty to my house," Aegon demanded.

Hurriedly the four Velaryons did as commanded and knelt before the throne Aegon was seated on to swear their fealty anew in perpetuity, pledging their swords, their service, and their obedience to Aegon and all his heirs until the end of time.

Satisfied, Aegon rose from where he was seated and stood upon the steps of the throne. "Rise Lord Daemon Velaryon, rise as the Lord of the Tides, the Defender of Driftmark, and the Warden of Duskendale, titles that will be held by you and your sons and all your heirs after them until the end of time so long as they remain as faithful and filial to me and mine as you have been.

"At war's end there will be a proper ceremony with all the great nobles in attendance where you shall be honored once again and the exact bounds and powers of your domain and those who are to be sworn to you are settled, but until then, take your rightful place upon this seat Lord Velaryon," Aegon finished as he descended from the throne and was the first to clap as their uncle sat in it.

Rhaenys could not help but smile as it all happened, not so much for her uncle and House Velaryon's elevation, for though she was happy that they were receiving just rewards for their loyalty and service that they never had in another world, what pleased her most was seeing Aegon's brilliance in full display.

He had made such a dramatic show of the whole thing and it was before the eyes of everyone, their soldiers and knights, the sellsword captains, and also all of the defeated Duskendale garrison who were now joining their strength to theirs. Word would spread like wildfire to the rest of the Riverlands, to friends and foe alike. The message sent was clear to all. Fight for House Targaryen and serve loyally and you shall be rewarded beyond your wildest imaginations.

After they wolfed down a quick and early lunch, Aegon and her walked back out to the courtyard where their dragons had curled up with each other as they napped making the two of them scoff in resigned amusement. Meraxes was over eighty years old and though noticeably smaller than the hundred-and-ten-year-old Balerion, the difference was not large enough to prevent them from mating or sleeping intertwined like this. It seemed like a wholly inappropriate word to use for dragons but for lack of a better word, Meraxes and Balerion were, for all intents and purposes, cuddling.

Unfortunately, their riders had need of them. Rhaenys and Aegon both whistled and their dragons immediately awoke and disentangled from each other gently to answer their calls. They stalked forward on their wings and gently dipped their snouts down for them to pet them affectionately. With their dragons ready to fly at any moment, the two of them turned to each other.

"I'll take Antlers and Sow's Horn. Their submission will clear the path for our march on Harrenhal and swell our numbers with theirs. I'll also fly to all the other castles and houses between the Gods Eye and the Blackwater," Aegon told her. "You'll see to the submission of Rosby, Stokeworth, and Hayford to secure our southern flank and recruit even more troops for our army."

Rhaenys nodded.

"None of these castles are very far from here so I expect that we will both be back before nightfall. Take your glass candle with you and contact me if there's any urgent need. If not, I'll see you tonight," Aegon said before he kissed her on the lips.

Aegon likely intended for it to be a chaste farewell peck but Rhaenys was having none of that. She raised her feet, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his head to pull him in and deepen the kiss. Her husband succumbed to her temptations as usual and soon he took the lead. Rhaenys gave way happily as he wrapped his arms around her and his tongue slipped into her mouth. The taste of her love was something that Rhaenys would never tire of, it was an intoxicating flavor that had been made just for her.

As the kiss continued however, Rhaenys found herself running out of breath and the instinctive self-preserving desire to breathe began to struggle with her heart's demand that she continue soaking up the affections of her beloved. At one point she tried to pull away but her husband pulled her back and her heart would not let her resist. When Aegon finally broke the kiss the two of them were panting and breathless, feeling each other's heavy breaths on their faces as they pressed their foreheads together gently.

"Stay safe," Aegon said but it came out almost like a whispered plea.

Rhaenys' heart melted again. "Always."

Eventually, Aegon reluctantly let her go. They both knew they had to leave soon if they wanted to return to the Dun Fort safely before nightfall.

"I'll see you later darling," Rhaenys said and Aegon nodded with a slight smile. Together they turned to mount their dragons and with a final nod to each other, they set off into the sky. One flying north, and the other heading south.

Later, as she soared over the coasts of Blackwater Bay, Rhaenys thought of Aegon, and the paranoia and overprotectiveness he sometimes displayed when it came to her safety. It had been even stronger when they were younger and it had become even more apparent when she had claimed Meraxes after their father had died.

Aegon would always demand to know where she was going whenever she flew, how long she would be out and when he could expect her back. He had also been obsessed with training her how to fly a certain way as well, relentlessly drilling her in evasive maneuvers, dives, and other aerial acrobatics.

Rhaenys had rarely seen the point in it all. She rode the second-largest dragon in the world, what could possibly threaten her? What need was there for him to worry so much? It had felt stifling and tedious to someone like her who loved to fly and fly wherever and however she wanted to as much as she did and it had been one of the few points of major disagreement between them for many years.

After they had married and Aegon had told her and Visenya about his memories of another world and another future for their house, she finally understood why he had worried so much. Because that attitude that she had had, the arrogance and belief that she was invincible atop Meraxes, it had actually gotten another version of herself killed. Aegon had spent all those years trying desperately to ensure she would not have the same end and she had resented his efforts.

It had made her feel guilty and determined to make it up to him. All the resentment she had harbored for his overprotectiveness had turned into touched affection then for it was the proof of his love for her. She had used it as the motivation to prove herself in his eyes, to prove that though she might not ever be as passionate, inclined, or skilled for it as Visenya was, she was no less capable in war than her older sister. She could be trusted to pull her own weight and contribute to their house without her siblings having to worry for her safety. She refused to suffer her counterpart's fate.

She had started learning how to wear armor and building the strength needed to wear it, so that whenever she flew into battle, she would have protection from any stray arrows. Aegon had also given her the family's Valyrian steel dagger when her attempts to learn swordsmanship alongside Visenya had gone poorly and he had personally taught her how to use it so that she would not be defenseless even when separated from Meraxes and her guards.

And atop Meraxes she had drilled herself relentlessly. Whereas before she had only trained how to fly in ways fit for combat whenever Aegon had forced her to, now she did it willingly and far beyond what he had ever asked her to do when they were growing up. She had always been the most talented and passionate dragonrider and flier out of her siblings but she had wasted her potential on leisure flights. No longer.

Now she felt confident that no stray and absurdly lucky shot would ever fell Meraxes and her after they had drilled and trained for years. If Dorne tried to kill her again this time, they'd be in for a rude awakening. She'd show them that she was as much a dragon as her older siblings.

Her skills had improved so much that she felt confident in taking on even Balerion in a dragon duel, not that she expected that she would ever have to but it was a good way to train and measure her skills. Her namesake in that other world had been capable of fighting and winning against a Vhagar that had reached Balerion's size on a dragon that was only half that size, and Rhaenys was not going to let herself be outdone by an alternate descendant of hers.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, chiding herself a little for dwelling too much on the past instead of enjoying the flight. She had drilled herself and prepared to fly to war for years but as Aegon had pointed out to her, there was no reason why she couldn't still fly for fun. He didn't want her to lose her passion and love for peaceful flying and get lost in war and she realized that she didn't want to either.

Rhaenys relaxed and let herself have some fun for a while, taking Meraxes into a few spins and dives and just enjoyed the feeling of the wind blowing coolly against her face and through her hair. Eventually she put on her helmet so that the glass visor would protect her eyes and let her fly even faster, the rush of adrenaline feeding her excitement and thrill as she relished the intoxicating feeling of flight.

This was why she loved flying. It just felt so freeing, so liberating. It made her feel powerful and unstoppable. She could go wherever she pleased, do whatever she wanted. All the world was hers to explore and take, all the lands she saw from above like a goddess, trees as small as blades of grass, mountains as small as little hills.

Eventually however her mood turned serious again. As her siblings had reminded her many times since she was young, there was a time and place for fun and there were times when duty took precedence.

She took out the far-eye and compass from her satchel, the former purchased from Myr and the latter brought back from Yi-Ti by the first trade voyages they had sent there. Aegon had spared no expense to obtain the finest equipment for them though she knew he hoped their artisans would eventually be able to make items like these in Westeros itself instead of them having to import it from overseas.

Taking her compass, Rhaenys checked her bearing and the direction that she was flying in. Stokeworth, Rosby, and Hayford were roughly in a straight line due southwest from Duskendale but it couldn't hurt to check and make sure that she was on that line. Once she had determined that she was, she closed the compass and put it back into the satchel before taking the far-eye and pointing it directly ahead of her. Sure enough there was a castle in the distance that could only be Stokeworth.

She kept the far-eye and put her helmet on, her heart filled with steel and resolve. It was time to put her years of training to good use. Rhaenys spurred Meraxes onward and with a fearsome beat of her wings the silver dragon surged forward, doubling her speed. Her nose pointed slightly downwards as they began to descend upon Stokeworth.

As they neared the castle, Rhaenys espied House Stokeworth's banners fluttering high in the wind, white lambs holding golden goblets on green fields. The castle was full to the brim with House Stokeworth's mustered levies from what she could tell, so full that some of the soldiers had been forced to camp outside the walls in the nearby village or in tents in the fields. With Rhaenys' urging, Meraxes roared loudly several times as they circled over the castle, making sure that there was no way House Stokeworth and their army remained ignorant of their presence.

When she was satisfied that the Stokeworths had been sufficiently alerted, she landed Meraxes in a field some distance away from the castle, making sure that they were out of range of any bows and most siege engines. Despite the distance however, the wide open fields around Stokeworth ensured that she and Meraxes were still perfectly in sight of the castle. They knew she was here, now it was only a matter of time before they sent a party to greet her and inquire after the reason for her presence on their lands.

Once upon a time, she might have simply landed Meraxes in the castle courtyard of Stokeworth and demanded to speak to the lord. Visenya had even agreed with her but Aegon had been absolutely horrified. He had told both of them to never do that if possible, reminding them though it was likely their dragons would frighten the garrison enough to not attack them, there was always the risk that they could and would attack with crossbows and other weapons from the high ground of the battlements while they were on the ground and while their dragons would be unscathed by such a surprise attack, they the riders would be much less so.

After a tedious wait that felt like hours but was closer to minutes, the Stokeworth party finally arrived. They were about fifty strong, with ten standard bearers carrying the Stokeworth banner in their hands as they rode. At the head of the party rode an aging though still hale man dressed in a resplendent gold-green and white doublet. His brown hair had almost turned completely grey with age and his eyes were a common brown.

"I am Lord Simon Stokeworth," the man declared from atop his horse. "May I know the reason for the presence of you and your dragon on my lands Lady Targaryen?"

"It's Queen Rhaenys Targaryen now Lord Stokeworth," she replied. "One of two consorts to the new King of the Rivers and Hills, my husband Aegon Targaryen. We seek to liberate the Riverlands from the cruel yoke of Harren the Black. Duskendale has yielded to us and as we speak my siblings are rooting out the Ironmen in Maidenpool and Rook's Rest and winning the fealty of all the lands between the Blackwater Rush and Bay and the Gods Eye.

"We ask that you join us Lord Stokeworth, swear your fealty and lend your strength to ours to bring down the tyrant together. You shall of course keep all your lands, monies, and titles. Furthermore, you shall reap the fruits of the prosperity and peace our reign shall usher in and there is much potential for greater rewards in the future for loyal service," Rhaenys proclaimed.

Lord Stokeworth had the gall to laugh. "You and what army Lady Targaryen? Even with your sellswords and your defectors, do you truly think that you can bring down the tyrant? Better men than your husband and I tried and failed five years ago. His castle isn't even complete yet but still their armies broke upon it until they were utterly spent. Harren destroyed the pride of the Riverlands and we all suffered dearly for that rebellion.

"You ask me to risk my house and my people to support a doomed cause. And for what? Even if we win, the Riverlands and Blackwater Bay will simply trade one foreign heathen for a king with another, one with two sister-wives nonetheless, as much of an abomination to the Seven as Harren's cruelties and thralldoms are.

"No Lady Targaryen, my answer is no. Go and fight Harren if you wish, I will not stand in your way for I have no love lost for him, but I will not have my people die for your heathen cause."

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes at the insult to her marriage and family and the absolute audacity and arrogance Lord Stokeworth had to be denying a dragonrider.

"Perhaps a demonstration is in order then Lord Stokeworth. Please wait here and allow me to convince you why it is absolutely in the interests of you and your people to take this last chance that I am offering you," Rhaenys said coldly before she turned and mounted Meraxes.

"Sōvēs!" she growled out and Meraxes obeyed eagerly, the two of them soaring into the sky. They made the distance to Castle Stokeworth within seconds. The panicked crossbowmen on the battlements loosed their bolts at them but Meraxes evaded them effortlessly and what few she didn't bounced harmlessly off her scales.

Drawing inspiration from what her sister had done in another life, Rhaenys ordered Meraxes to limit her flames and set the roofs of the castle on fire before she flew back to the field where Lord Stokeworth was and landed. The blazes in the top of the castle's towers and roofs were clearly visible even from this distance.

Meraxes's legs and wings made a heavy thud on the ground that startled Lord Stokeworth and his party. As Rhaenys dismounted, she could see all of them looking terrified, their eyes flicking rapidly between the castle and the dragon that had set it on fire and just landed in front of them.

"What is your answer now Lord Stokeworth?" Rhaenys demanded.

Lord Stokeworth and his whole company fearfully dismounted from their horse and fell to their knees, swearing their fealty on the spot.

Rhaenys smiled.

Fortunately for them, Rosby and Hayford both submitted easily and without needing any such demonstrations. Rhaenys was in a good mood when she returned to Duskendale long before sunset and she welcomed Aegon eagerly in more ways than one when he finally returned as well.

Second Moon, 97 AD (5 BC)

Visenya Targaryen

Rook's Rest had yielded easily. The Stauntons had turned on the Ironmen that had been stationed in the region with them as soon as they had marched and they had eagerly joined their forces to hers. That had been a week and a half ago. Unfortunately, it seemed that Maidenpool would not be so easy.

"You go and tell your brother or your husband or whatever he is, fuck if I care, that I want Duskendale returned to me immediately," the braggart known as Qhorwyn Hoare proclaimed arrogantly.

"I must concur with my brother Lady Targaryen, there can be no negotiations as long as you hold Duskendale," Othgar Hoare said.

Why had she been condemned to deal with these fools? Was there nothing at all between their ears? Did they somehow not grasp that she had thousands of soldiers and a dragon around their walls?

As if that wasn't enough, the two of them had been staring lecherously at her unashamed the whole meeting, undressing her with their eyes and overall just making her feel disgusted. There had only ever been one man Visenya had ever wanted to look at her that way and he was worth a hundred times more than either of these sacks of scum combined.

Finally, her patience wore thin with the hemming and hawing of the idiotic and arrogant Hoares. "Enough of this nonsense, Lord Othgar, Lord Qhorwyn, I have eighteen thousand men at your gates and a dragon. This is your last chance. Yield and you will be allowed to return to the Iron Islands in peace unmolested. Refuse and you will either die brutally in the chaos of the battle or be taken hostage and left at the mercy of my husband and I," she declared.

The Hoares grew wroth then. "Who do you think you are?" Othgar Hoare demanded. "We are the black line, the scourge of the green lands, reavers of a hundred kingdoms, masters of the seas. We are unchallenged, and unbeatable. Not even a rebellion by half of the Riverlands could unseat our father and you think that you and your lizards can do what no others have ever succeeded in doing? Think again. On the contrary Visenya Targaryen, this is your last chance. Turn back now and go home before our father and brothers come to relieve us with all of their might and make thralls out of you and your whole army!"

Qhorwn Hoare stared hungrily at her dragon and then at her bosom. "The trophies will be incredible. The skull of a dragon to adorn our father's throne room in Harrenhal, cloaks of dragonhide and dragonbone bows and bracelets, and one of the last Valyrian dragonlords as a salt wife. It will be tough indeed deciding which of us will get to have her," he said, almost drooling.

Othgar laughed at his brother's crass words. "Perhaps we could share her," he japed crudely.

Vhagar growled then. The Hoare brothers and their party of guards flinched as she rose and stalked closer to them on her wings and legs.

"This is a parley under a banner of truce! Control your beast Targaryen!" Qhorwyn shouted.

"Oh you must forgive Vhagar. She's quite sensitive you see. She doesn't like it when threats are made against her and her master," Visenya said coldly as Vhagar continue to growl at the Hoares.

Their horses bucked and grew terrified, and the Hoares tried to leave but Vhagar wrapped her wings around and trapped them beneath at her mercy, a greenish-blue flame building in her maw as they began to scream pathetically.

"Lykirī. Māzīs ynot," Visenya commanded and Vhagar withdrew at once and came bounding to her side to be petted, acting more like a dog starving for its master's affection than a fearsome dragon.

The Hoares reined in their panicked horses and shuffled their cloaks dramatically as they turned to leave, cruel glares in their black eyes. "This meeting is over," Othgar Hoare declared.

"Evidently," Visenya replied simply, meeting his glare with a stone stare.

She kept staring and watching even as the Hoares made it back within the trap of Maidenpool's pink stone walls. Trap not safety. There would be no safety for the Hoares from her today.

Her bastard brother Orys shook his head in amazement as they watched the gates of Maidenpool close. "I find it incredulous how they have the balls to be so arrogant when you could have killed them with a word. Less even. If you hadn't ordered her back, Vhagar would have killed them without you even telling her to."

"The arrogance of lesser men will never cease to astound my dear valonqar. I find it surprising as well, how these fools can have such ego and pride when they are nothing. The dirt beneath my boot is worth more than any of these filth. But it is no matter. I simply have to disabuse them of the notion that they were ever worth anything at all," Visenya said as she mounted Vhagar.

As she put on her gauntlets and helmet in the saddle, she continued speaking. "There was an old saying before the Doom that lesser men defied the dragonlords of Valyria at their peril."

"I remember. Father used to say it all the time, and Aegon followed in his footsteps," Orys said with a nostalgic look.

"Today, I am that peril," Visenya declared and her brother looked awestruck at the conviction in her voice.

Turning again to her brother, she gave him his orders. "Tell the men that the negotiations have broken down. Put the cavalry at the head of the formation in front of the gates. We storm the town at my signal."

He nodded before a curious look appeared on his face. "Understood sister… what signal though?"

"Trust me. You will know," she said simply.

As Orys turned to leave, Visenya called out to him again. "Oh and Orys? I was in full control of Vhagar the whole time. Everything that she did in that meeting, she did according to my design and mine alone." Hammering in her point, Vhagar beat her wings and took off into that sky in that exact moment without her even having to whisper a word.

As she waited for her brother to complete his task, Visenya had Vhagar circle Maidenpool from above. They flew high out of the range of arrows and Visenya looked at the town below with her far-eye, surveying the major concentrations of Hoare soldiers and the best targets to hit.

Looking east she saw that her army had finally formed up in the formation that she wanted, with the knights of House Celtigar and Crackclaw Point at the head alongside the Long Lances and the cavalry units of each of the other free companies. Smiling, Visenya closed the far-eye and tucked it back into the saddle bag and locked it in place securely.

"Embrot!" she commanded and in an instant Vhagar arched her back and pointed her nose downwards, tucking her wings in as she entered into a terrifying high speed dive akin to that of a bird of prey. The town that had once appeared so distant grew menacingly close as they neared it but still Visenya did not relent. Vhagar continued to dive. Dragon and rider were united in their stubbornness and their intentions to do this perfectly or not at all.

As the walls of Maidenpool they were diving toward loomed large Visenya pulled up. At the last possible moment Vhagar's great bronze wings furled out to glide her descent and the high speed of their dive propelled them as they soared over the walls like the winds of a hurricane.

"Dracarys!" Greenish blue flames with a core of white poured furiously out of Vhagar's maw, bathing the pink walls in immolating fire and eviscerating every soldier who had dared to man those walls today, scorching the beautiful pink stone black. It was a delightful mix of colors, greenish blue-white turning black where it met pink and Visenya delighted even more knowing that the enemies of her house were being destroyed as those colors met.

As she passed over the gatehouse, she angled Vhagar slightly so that her flames would directly burn through the gates before continuing to desolate the battlements on the other side of the gatehouse. Horns sounded as her cavalry charged toward the broken gate, with the infantry following behind. Orys had gotten her signal. Good.

The defenders of Maidenpool never stood a chance. They were a mere three thousand strong and Visenya's army was six times that number. With the gate destroyed, her forces poured into the town and started clearing the streets of any enemy soldiers they could find. Meanwhile in the skies above, Visenya continued to rain down fire on any concentrations of Hoare men that she could find.

Finally, as her army surrounded Florian's Castle, the keep of the now extinct House Mooton, she had Vhagar burn the tops of its pink battlements and blast open the gates just as they had done to the outer walls of Maidenpool. By noon the three-headed red dragon flew from Jonquil's Tower and all of Maidenpool had been secured with the Hoare soldiers either dead or captured.

Feeling it safe enough to land with her soldiers manning the battlements of Florian's Castle, Visenya set Vhagar down in the courtyard and dismounted. The Dragonguard who had accompanied her army split into two platoons as soon as they saw her, one to guard Vhagar and one to guard her. They followed dutifully behind her as she entered into the main hall of Florian's Castle.

As she walked, Visenya's mind was already hard at work thinking on what came next. Aegon and Rhaenys had already secured the allegiance of all the houses south of Maidenpool and they were reorganizing their army at Antlers as those houses mustered and joined them.

For her part she would need to secure Maidenpool with a garrison, preferably not the sellswords as they might loot the town instead of guarding it, and then mobilize the rest of her army along with any supplies and funds they requisitioned from the town to meet her siblings on the road to Darry as they had agreed in their last glass candle communication.

Her thoughts were cut off however as she caught sight of Orys walking toward her with a beaming smile on his face. He dragged behind him two familiar fools in chains surrounded by a dozen armed guards.

"I have a gift for you my dear elder sister. May I present to you Othgar and Qhorwyn Hoare, the third and fourthborn sons of Harren the Black," he said with a menacingly pleased expression.

Far from the arrogant braggarts that had treated with her that morning, the brothers Hoare now looked humbled and terrified with chains about their necks, legs, and arms, though there was still the slightest glimmer of defiance in Othgar's eyes. At Visenya's gesture, the guards threw both brothers to the ground.

She unsheathed Dark Sister from where it rested on her left hip and stalked toward the two Hoares. With a savage glee she stomped her armored boot into the lower back of Qhorwyn the filthy lecher who had dared to suggest she be a salt wife. He cried out in pain and his cries intensified as she pulled him up by the hair on his head. "Who's the trophy now?" she asked coldly as she pressed Dark Sister at his throat, the ever so sharp steel biting gently into his skin and drawing the slightest line of blood.

It was so tempting to flick her hand just a little and end his life but instead Visenya threw him back to the floor, smirking when she heard his face impact the hard stone directly and his resulting scream of pain. She probably broke his nose with that throw, not that she cared, he deserved much worse.

Walking over to the still defiant Othgar, she pulled him up with the collar on his neck before taunting him as well. "Who's the thrall?" she said, feeling immense satisfaction at the sight of the humiliation and hatred in his eyes as she rested Dark Sister against his guts. Finally, she threw Othgar aside so he could join his brother in agony on the floor.

"Thank you for your gift Orys. Please take them out of my sight now though. I fear Aegon will be greatly disappointed in me if I killed such useful hostages," Visenya said as she flicked her blade and cleaned it of the Hoares' filthy blood before sheathing it back in its scabbard.

Visenya did not look back as Orys had the prisoners dragged away to the dungeons. They were beneath her further attention. She had much more important things to see to today.

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Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the insights into the personalities of Aegon's two sister-wives! Stay tuned for the next chapter, the Tyrant and the Trout! Please lmk your thoughts in the comments below or over on Discord! Check out my Patreon or SubscribeStar to read up to six chapters ahead!