Chapter 2 A Funeral and War Against The Seas

Alyssa was enjoying the sight of Jaehaerys playing with one of Rhaena's dogs, a northern wolfhound more than large enough for the 3 year old boy to ride.

Rhaena was not with them, as she and her ladies were out hawking, leaving the hound to Jaehaerys to play with.

The boy was rather fond of the animal. Well, he was fond of most animals. Growing up with all the animals his sister owned, he was close with pretty much all of them, other than certain of his sister's cats.

About the only animal he had not immediately taken to, was his dragon. He simply did not have that inborn bond with Vermithor that Rhaena had with Dreamfyre.

He was not scared of dragons though, the way Aegon was. He just needed a few years to grow yet before he would be able to truly bond with the young dragon.

Since Little Jaehaerys wasn't comfortable with with him yet, the little bronze beast had remained at Dragonstone for their journey, leaving him free to grow at Dragonstone. Which was just as well. They did not need a young dragon accidentally lighting the wheelhouse afire.

Sitting with her, though not watching Jaehaerys was his bethroed Arya Arryn. The girl was… A strange one.

At 9 she was over twice as old as her bethroed, and once they had gotten news that she would be joining them as Aenys Ward, she had expected a girl like any of the other she had known in her years.

Instead she had gotten a girl who read constantly, was fascinated by violence(she had shown a truly disturbing smile when a jouster died of a broken neck during the Tourney in Highgarden.), and with a with and biting tongue that seemed out of place on any proper lady, much less one 9 years old.

She was honestly not certain how to advance with the girl's education.

Unlike Rhaena who she long determined simply needed more discipline to focus on the feminine arts(a discipline Aenys simply refused to enforce) to get her away from… Less savory matter, Arya was well versed in the female arts long before she had joined them at Dunstonbury. She simply did not enjoy them nearly as much as her books.

When asked to join in embroidery, she would dutifully do so, unlike Rhaena who had more than once excused herself on Dreamfyre when she was in one of her moods.

She was not the first woman Alyssa had met who liked to read. She was one who often hated discussing most topics though. She did not care for religion, knights and their daring deeds, nor the latest gossip which the rest of her ladies loved oh so much.

About the only feminine thing she had truly enjoyed talking about was fashion, which had amounted to getting help to remake her her Blue and white dress with silk instead of Wool and fur, to better deal with the heat of the Rech.

Once she had achieved that, she had become as silent on the topic as she was on everything else.

Paradoxically, though she cared little for knights, she often made the bizarre choice of chatting with the freeriders who followed the progress to listen to their tales of battle.

She had been horrified when she learned this, but the girls personal guards had calmed her that this was her normal behaviour and in any event, she never did it alone always being guarded by several of the most impressive knight Alyssa had ever seen.

Her father had sent a company of 20 knights with her to guards her. They had integrated themselves into the household well enough, and as she saw each time they sparred, these were men who knew the art of war.

She had considered forbidding this behavior, but thankfully the girl had no interest in picking up a sword, unlike Rhaena. So she had let it go for the moment.

Then there was the girls taste in books. Rather than tales of chivalry, she instead read history books. At the moment she read a text simply titled, The Hungry Wolf. An biography on one of the old Stark Kings of Old, from the days when they were kings.

When she had enquired with who he was, Arya had explained that Theon was the greatest military leader the North had ever seen and in her eyes, the best military leader westeros had ever produced, at least before Aegon came to make the land whole.

She had been somewhat begrudging in admitting that the hungry wolf's accomplishments were easily overshadowed by King Aegon. He was her ancestor after all, and the girl clearly took pride in that fact.

Which had baffled Alyssa when she had enquired what made him so famous.

What had made Theon so famous, was ending the Andal invasions permanently, when he had sailed across the narrow to Andalos, and there had destroyed the kingdom, and put millions of men, women and children to the sword. He had then cut the heads of every single person his army had killed, and taken them back across the sea and mounted them all along the North's eastern coastline, from the neck to the wall.

It was a gruesome tale, up there with the the conquest of the Rhoyne. And the girl grinned as she retold the story.

That more than anything had made her weary of the girl. This would have been macabre enough from a woman grown, much less one not even 10 years of age.

This girl was not someone she wanted her precious boy to marry.

But at this stage it was too late to back out from the marriage. Ronnel had agreed to the marriage contract, and it would be a heinous insult on the part of house Targaryen to annul the arrangement.

More to the point, neither her husband nor her goodfather would allow it.

King Aegon was a ringiver, who rewarded loyal service. His only demand for the match was a rather hard contract on the topic of the ownership of any potential dragon egg, and that Vermithor would be returned to Dragonstone upon Jaehaerys death.

Once that had been agreed, he had even agreed to pay the dowry himself, as was the tradition when a man took his wife's name(Not a common thing in Westerosi politics.).

And Aenys… Well, he liked to be loved, and he never really went back on a gift or promise. His charity and openhandedness to all was one of the things she loved about the man, but it could and had been extremely frustrating many times in her marriage.

He was far too open with his generosity.

At the moment he was flying across the bay in which the mander flowed into, apparently wanting to see the sight.

Why he wanted to see that, when he had flown across this water many times before, she did not know.

He had changed somewhat since his near brush with death all those months ago.

As she had hoped he began to recover back to his regular self as time passed and they traveled.

However, he had picked strange habits. In particularly an obsession with maps. From every single town or castle they had visited he had seeked out any and all maps he could find, then he had gotten a scribe to copy them.

He had also begun to make his own maps.

When she had asked, he simply said that he wanted maps to better make plans for when he became king.

How these smaller maps detailing every minor settlement under the sun would help with that, she did not know.

He had also begun a love affair with something she had thought Aenys had lost the love for years ago. Combat. Or rather Armor.

He had been asking quite a lot of knights on which armor was the best, to which he had gotten many answers, which he had compiled in notes, and sketches.

Out of curiosity she had gone through all his notes once while he was out flying.

It was an interesting bunch of parchments. In particularly a map of blackwater bay filled with lines in the sea. What those were she had yet to get out of him. He had just smiled and said that she would learn in time.

He could be infuriating sometimes that husband of her's.

On a more positive note, she had enjoyed his ideas for a new flag symbolizing westeros itself, and she had both helped design it, as well as making the first of this new flag.

It had the targaryen dragon with its three firebreating heads in the middle of an imperial coat of arms on black. Crowning the imperial arms was an amalgam of Aenys own prepared crown and a stain glass with all the colors of the Rainbow, symbolising the faith.

All around this was the symbols of the Wardens and Lord Paramounts.

The direwolf of Stark, the falcon of Arryn, the trout of Tully, the Baratheon Stag, the Tyrell rose, the lion of Lannister and the golden kraken of the Greyjoys.

All on a pure black background. It was an fine, glorious design, which both she and Aenys had poured themselves into. She doubted the poor flagmakers who would have to replicate it again and again would enjoy it's intricate design, but the people of the kingdom would doubtlessly find it impressive.

Her thoughts on her family and their recent escapades was interrupted by the maester of the Castle they were at, a little Hold on the northern tip of the mouth of the mander, called Beacon wall.

The Maester looked rather grim as he approached her with a letter in hand.

---

The waters of the coast of the Reach was beautiful. The Aenys of old had more than once marveled at them as he flew ahead. The new Aenys did not.

All i could see was a final confirmation that i would not be able to do as i had originally planned with the west coast of Westeros.

The west coast was far deeper and less shallow than the narrow sea, that was common knowledge. But flying over and really looking at it, i had to accept that my plans to increase the landmass of the Reach by 20% was dead before it even got off the ground.

God damn it all.

I had wanted to really implement land reclamation all over Westeros.

But alas, the west was way too deep for my plans. I MIGHT be able to do something with the shield islands, but that was about it.

I wasn't gonna be able to reclaim the most obvious spots, the mouths around the Mander and old town. They were way too deep.

And trying to make a dike to the Arbor? Yeah that wasn't happening.

Great.

Well, time to head back then.

Quicksilver began to change course though she did not do so immediately, instead taking her time.

It was an interesting experience that the dragon just knew what i wanted without me saying a word. One interesting piece of dragonlore i had learned just rooting through my Memories was that there were a lot more nuance to dragon riding than i had expected.

For one, there was a clear gap between riders, that just couldn't be explained by anything other than how strong the magical bond was between mount and rider.

Riding whips were a common thing, but not all rider really needed them. Some needed them for specific tasks such as getting the dragon to go up, some to go down, some to get it breathing fire and some needed them to get the dragon to do anything.

Interestingly, neither Aegon nor Visneya was of the kind that needed no whip at all. I was, though whether that was due to my and Quicksilvers own bond being particularly strong, or a trait i had inherited from Rhaenys i did not know.

The youngest of the dragon trio had not needed a whip to get meraxes to do her bidding. The strength of the bond also seemed like it could change over time, as Aenys had once needed a whip during his first years, before phasing it out completely.

It was an interesting bond, not as powerful as the bond between a Warg and his second skin, but just like with wargs, there were varying levels of strengths.

Quicksilver was obedient, and generally did as i wanted, though she often took her sweet time doing it. I think she just liked to fly, and knowing where we were heading she wanted to extend the flight. Or maybe i was just attributing complex thoughts to her.

After around half an hour we began to approach Beacon Wall. A small, though pretty powerful castle, seated on a hill with a rather gruesome spike filled moat.

It was a pretty strong holding considering that it belonged to a landed knight. One Ser Garth Beacon.

It was not a particularly prestigious holding, but it had. Given an excellent chance to really scout the bay for spots where i might be able to make artificial islands. There had been none unfortunately.

As we approached the castle i noticed a lot of movement around the monstrosity that was the wheel house.

I had always imagined that a wheel house was a term for a carriage of some kind.

It was not. The monstrosity was a fucking house on wheels. Massive and with tons of wheels that could and had broken over this trip. I needed to replace those with steel wheels. Assuming i even kept it around.

If i did live long enough to make any forms of trains i would most certainly not.

We landed outside the walls by the wheelhouse.

As we landed, everyone turned and looked at me with looks i could only interpret as looks of condolences.

Huh, i was pretty sure i now knew what was going on. I had expected a month or two.

Any doubt what it was, was quenched when i saw Alyssa with a black piece of cloth around her arm. A sign of mourning.

She had been crying i saw, though nowhere near as much as Rhaena who was sitting by a rock. She was bawling her eyes out, while being comforted by her friends.

Jaehaerys was nowhere in sight so i assumed he was inside the Wheel house then.

As she approached me, she tried to say something, but i cut her off before she could speak.

"Who?"

I already knew the answer, but i had a role to play.

"Your father. We received a raven With a message from Dragonstone. The king had… A stroke. He's dead. I'm sorry Beloved."

I closed my eyes.

It actually did hurt. The part of me that was Aenys really, REALLY hurt at those news.

It wasn't quite that Aenys as a person had ceased to be, more like he and i had… Fused, though with me in the firm driving seat.

Still, the feelings Aenys had on matters could be… Really overpowering at times.

I breathed heavily, shaking as i fought back tears i both had no feelings about, as well as on the brink of a collapse.

As i was regaining control, Alyssa stepped up and hugged me.

It took me by suprise for a second before i remembered, oh yeah, my wife was a very affectionate person.

In any case, i hugged her back.

Then as i finally calmed down and we separated, i said "I need to go." No time for sentimentality, i had to get my ass to Dragonstone and deal with all the problems that would mount the continent.

Thinking along similar lines Alyssa nodded.

"Aye, back to Dragonstone, i know. We've prepared food and spare clothing for you."

She motioned to a bag i now saw was prepared by the Wheelhouse. One of the large empty saddlebags made for the dragon saddle.

"And the flag?"

She gave a weak smile. "Yes love, i prepared it as well."

"Good, good. Once i have left, make all haste back to King's Landing, and go by the northern routes. Do not cross the mander."

"...Why?"

"If my predictions are right, the Dornish marches will be alight in flame rather soon. I would rather you guys not be anywhere near them when it happens."

She looked a bit confused, scared and worried all at the same time, but she nodded.

All around us, most of the people had gone back to their duties, pointedly ignoring their prince- No their King's talk with his wife.

The exception was my two King's Guard knights, who true to their oaths instead stood by in a defensive manner, as if expecting attacks on their sovereign at any time.

Both of them waited quietly and patiently, until i finished talking with Alyssa. When i turned towards them, they both knelt.

"Your grace." they both said, though they didn't quite manage to do so in unison despite their best attempt.

"Rise." I said shortly. I did not have time for formalities.

As they got back to their feet, i continued. "You two are to accompany my family back to King's landing."

"As you say your grace." Hill responded. Baratheon followed with a nodd.

"You will be traveling alone then?"

For a moment my eyes turned in Rhaena's direction.

I did not need another guard, especially not given that the rest of my five swords were all waiting for me at dragonstone.

I could use another dragon rider though.

Those thoughts were squashed pretty much immediately. Even ignoring my parental instincts, Rhaenys was what, 14?

The girl had no military training to prepare her for combat, nor was she mentally ready for it. Even if i did manage to convince myself to drag the girl with me, she would not handle the upcoming slaughter.

I would need to give her training to harden her for military service, but that could wait until she was older. As in, an adult.

The girl was a dragon rider. And i could not let that go to waste.

"Yes."

---

After saying goodbye to all my family members, my two king's guards and apologizing to ser Garth for cutting my visit short(something i had no doubt he was rather glad for given he no. Longer had to feed us.) i took off.

Assuming i booked it with minimal rest, i would reach Dragonstone in 4-5 days.

Then i would need to quickly lay the foundation for putting the coming revolts down quickly, actually put down those revolts and finally, what would probably be my dangerous task.

Handling Maegor.

I was under no illusions about what a dangerous game that was, but that was something i had to do.

With Maegor there was only 2 options. Get him inside the tent, or kill him.

One or the other.

I had to either make him truly serve(if not like) me or i had to find some way kill him.

Complicating the matter was his mother, who i DEFINITLY had to kill.

Maegor was a sadist, a bully and while not the truly sociopathic levels he would reach as king, Aenys had seen enough of his life to know that Maegor was more than capable of true brutality.

At the moment that brutality was far more focused and precise than it became after his fight with the Warrior Sons, but the potential to fall to true madness was there, with or without possible necromancy.

That said, i did have a few things going for me. For one, was that Maegor, for all his faults, was not an ambitious man. At least not at this point.

Despite Visenya's scheming to get Aegon to name him heir, Maegor himself had always been indifferent towards the throne. It was one of the reasons Aegon had never stopped being affectionate with the man, even as he fell out with his mother.

That was only for the moment though. From the original timeline i knew Maegor would eventually start listening to his mom, and finally usurp the throne.

Which, more than anything, was the main reason Visenya had to die. I could not risk trying to get Maegor inside the tent, while also keeping around his mom whispering in his ear that he deserved the throne.

I was going to use the hell out of her before the knife in the back though. Vhagar was not a resource i could let go to waste. And once she was dead, Viserys could take her dragon, and Aegon would then have Quicksilver, Dreamfyre and Vhagar against Balerion. Massive as he was, the black dread would not win that fight.

That was just in the worst case scenario though. Hopefully it would never come to that.

The other advantage i had was that i knew just how bitter Maegor was about not having an heir. A problem i could fix, provided he wasn't completely infertile. Hopefully, he was not. After all, other than not knocking his first wife, all his fertility problems had come after Telissa of the tower.

I had no doubts that the horribly misshapen stillbirths were her fault, whether through necromancy fucking up his seed, or the explanation she had given after torture.

Note to self, do not let Maegor go to Pentos.

Still, even if my plans succeeded, there was a massive inherent danger keeping Maegor around.

Namely i was trying to make him the Dalinar to my Gavilar. He was such a potential resource, a force of destruction with a ruthlessness that i could use to make him the bad cop to all my bloody plans.

I did not WANT to unleash Maegor upon my enemies. Bit Maegor was a force, that once unleashed could not be controlled.

So you better not rise up against me okay? Elsewise the black dread awaits.

Of course the problem came once peace was established. The first 5-6 years would be either war, or preparations for war. So long as i kept giving Maegor enemies to fight, he would hopefully be satisfied with that. That was what he lived for after all. Blood and dominance.

The problem came once peace was established. I did not have much hope Maegor would be able to handle peace any more than Dalinar Kholin had. Probably way worse.

Still, that was a bridge to cross at a later date.

---

Finally, after days of travel and staying at random holds to sleep for 4 hours a day, we finally reached Dragonstone.

As we flew across the port in the shadow of the great castle, i took a look at the ships in the harbor. It was was packed. There was a number of familiar banners on the ships as well.

Velaryon, Darklyn, Bar Emmon, Sunglass, Rosby, Tarth and… a ton of others i did not recognize. So a rather large gathering had come to see Aegon on his last journey.

Great. Just what i wanted. An audience.

Soaring upwards towards the massive castle, i saw things had not changed much since last i saw it.

The monstrosity of black stone was unchanged, the banners of black and red on the walls was the same as ever.

As we passed one of the the giant black dragon statues, and prepared to land, i saw that my coming was somewhat expected.

People, high lords and servants alike were running about as fast as they could to prepare their Kings coming.

I considered giving them some more time to prepare and maybe circle around the castle a few times, but i decided against it.

It would mean a smaller audience after all.

So we landed, right in the courtyard with that oh, so satisfying CRACK of a landing dragon.

Some movement stopped, but many kept moving running about.

As i began to dismount i looked about for Familiar faces.

I recognized a lot of the lords, some of the dragon handlers who ran up to take care of quicksilver and some of Maegor's knights.

The one i was looking for was Visenya, but my search for her was interrupted when 5 men in white armor marched up to me.

I couldn't see any of their faces as they wore the standard templar helmets of the king's Guard(i was gonna have to implement a better standard helmet for my elite guard.) but the complete whiteness of their equipment made it pretty clear who they were.

Then as they came right before me, lord commander Corlys Velaryon bent his knee while offering me a heavy golden crown. MY crown.

The other 4 followed suit. Kneeling i mean, none of them pulled out a second crown. Though that did raise the question of where the old man's crown was.

As i took the crown, and put it on my head i spotted Viserys, carrying a huge sheathed sword that could only be Blackfyre.

The boy had obviously been crying a lot, what with his red eyes, but at the moment he was trying to keep it in and keep a stiff upper lip as the brits would say.

True he didn't manage it all the way, but the boy was 8, so i would cut him some all slack.

"Rise, then follow." I told my King's Guards, then i walked over to him.

Viserys tried to offer me Blackfyre, but being 8 he did so much more clumsily than Velaryon had.

Still i gently took the blade he offered me, then i bent down and gave him a hug.

He stiffened, but quickly returned the gesture. And if i heard him sniffle i ignored it.

As i finally disentangled myself from him i asked for the person i wanted to see the most after visenya.

"Where is Aegon?"

One of the King's guard(I think it was Clarence Crabb) answered my question.

"He's in the sept your grace. With the king… Your father."

Viserys clarified. "He's been keeping the King's vigil since he died. He says he will not leave Grandfather's side until his king relieves him off his duty."

I see. I wasn't sure if i was angry, impressed or just baffled by the fact that no one had forced some sense into him. He was a boy of 11, yet these adults hadn't forced him to bed. Unless they had seriously carted a bed for him to sleep in inside the sept.

"Well then, i shall relieve him before we send my father on his final trip. But first…"

I looked around once more.

"Where is my aunt?"

No one answered but all heads turned in one direction. Queen Visenya(Or was Dowager queen? She wasn't my mother but… no calling her that would imply Maegor should be king.) was considerably less pissed than last time i saw her as she walked down a set of obsidian black stairs.

In looks though, she had changed little.

She was still tall, long braided silver hair, and with that a face that made her look like a female leonidas. Dressed in the same armor she had worn when she and her siblings conquered Westeros.

Right now though, she was looking at me in a measuring way.

Did she realise i was planning to have her killed at some point? Or did simply regard me as a weakling?

"So you finally come Aenys. If i had known you would take almost two weeks, i would have flown and picked up Maegor."

So, confrontational right off the bat and… Wait?

"Maegor isn't here? Where is he?"

"He's in the North, fighting in melee's some such."

Why? What had happened to get him so far away from Dragonstone? The only thing different was my sickness and stay here on Dragonstone. How had that lead him to go North?

Well, however it happened, the result was the bloody same. The first time i actually needed Maegor and Balerion, he was nowhere to be found.

Change of plans then. I would need to deal with my revolts without Maegor.

"I see. Well, i had i had planned for him to be here in person for this, but oh well. My first degree as king, is to name my brother Maegor Targaryen as the prince of Dragonstone and it's lands, Vassals and incomes. To be passed down in through his line."

If i had hoped to impress Visenya, i would have been disappointed. She neither looked approvingly, nor disapprovingly.

"That is mighty generous of you."

"I prefer things to be clear Aunt. My brother was effectively the ruler of the island until father moved from King's Landing, though he never had a formal landed title here. I wished to change that, so i did. Let no man say i did not take care my own."

Then i changed gears.

"Now that that has been cleared, it is time we handle what i came here for. My father's funeral."

---

Aegon was tired.

It wasn't that he didn't sleep, but a chair was a poor substitute for a bed.

The only times he had excused himself from the room the king rested in, was to go into a sideroom with a chamberpot. Other that he had remained with his king.

He had been grandfathers squire. It was duty to see him to his final rest. From the moment he had died, he followed him.

He had been here as the silent sisters did their work, and gods that had been a disturbing experience. But yet he had marched on.

Hardships was the greatest teacher. If he was afraid of death, how would he handle battle?

Still, he had been in this room for… How long was it now? It felt so long. Yet the guards at the door told him it had only been a week and a half. It felt so much more. It felt like he had been here for months, inside these walls, only the light through the windows to remind him that there was a world outside, where the winds blew, the rain fell, and the dragonmont let out smoke.

This was his world now. A room dedicated to the Seven that was one.

He had always found scripture reading to be boring stuff. It was nowhere near as exciting or interesting as… Well pretty much everything else under the sun.

Yet he could not deny that he felt the gods looking down on him in here.

The maiden with her blue eyes so sad for the loss of the greatest of kings. The crone with her white blind eyes yet so full of wisdom and compassion. The fathers judging eyes of gold that knew his shame and the warrior frowning face and dissapointing eyes of red seeing him and his lack of bravery. The Smith, the only neutral one with eyes of green. The mother above, looking so much like his mother, with her flowing silver hair and purple eyes. There was no judgement there.

And finally the stranger, who had come for grandfather. The beast, death itself, who came to all, to take their lives.

None could stand against him. All would die one day. Father would die, mother would die, Viserys and Rhaena would die.

He would die. One day he would lying on the pedestal in the middle of this room, his corpse rotting away, all breath having long since left it, waiting only on the fire to come and consume his corpse, to turn him to ashes so that he would be put to rest here amongst all that remained of Valyria of old…

The door opened suddenly withouth warning.

Turning around he saw viserys, aunt Visenya and… Father, come at last. Tall and glorious in purple robes, and with crown of gold shining like light itself in the brightness of the sun, the king of torches.

Finally his vigil was at an end.

---

"Aegon Targaryen. Much and more can be said about him. I could say a good king, a good man, a good father. But would be to undersell who he was."

I stood by the tall and massive pyre, upon which the first king of Westeros had been laid to rest, Blackfyre upon his chest.

Below me stood quite a lot of people. Servants at the castle, lords from the narrow sea who had come to see their king off, and our family. His wife Visenya on her dragon, his grandsons and a couple of other men and women who were either "dragonseeds" or descended from grandfather invoking the right of the first night.

Of those, only Orys Baratheon had gone on to be remembered by history, but there was others.

And bove all of them i stood, to eulogize the conqueror.

"Aegon was a conqueror. In less than 5 years, Aegon united 3 races, 3 Religions and 6 Kingdoms. He did away with borders, and made this continent one. One nation, one kingdom, one king. From the wall to the mountains of Dorne, there was only one writ."

Well, there was the clans of the mountain of the moon, but i was gonna do something about that. Like, literarily, it was the first thing of note i was going to do once i had crushed the rebellions.

"He was a conqueror the likes of which this world has never seen. He was the dragon. The king on the Iron Throne of Westeros."

He had always preferred to be called Aegon the Dragon, but alas, that was not his call to make. He was the conqueror. That was how history would remember him.

"But he was not merely a conqueror. For Aegon was a great king. He hammered westeros into one with fire and blood, but when that work was done, he did not begin an endless conquest eastwards as some urged him."

"Instead, he gave his kingdom peace, prosperity, justice and order. His actual reign was one long golden age which all men will remember as one of peace for all."

Well, that and a whole mess of non existent infrastructure he had left it to his successor to clean up. No overarching law system, no roads, king landing was an unplanned mess and the dornish question was still there.

"He was a man who was open handled to those who served him well and who never took vengeance upon who bent the knee, no matter their previous opposition. He granted the Edmyn Tully the lord paramouncy of trident for being the first to rise for him. He gave Storms End and all it's lands to his brother, who never failed in his service to him as his strong right hand. He elevated the Tyrells to their height for bending the knee after the field of fire."

And he had done all of that. But that also hid another side of Aegon. As open handed as he was with lands, when it came to coin, he was ebenezer scrooge. If he could avoid it, he would not spend not spend coin on it.

That was probably one of the main reasons he had not invested his wealth into the crownlands. Hell he hadn't even built a true castle before being forced to admit the aegonfort wasn't working out, years after he should have scrapped and started anew.

It was also one of the reasons he loved the royal progress so damned much. Showing off the wealth and prestige of the royal house while not having to pay for it? Yes please.

Of course, i wasn't gonna complain. It meant i had a decent amount of cash to start with. It would not be enough on it's own, but it was a good start until i reformed the taxation system.

"Aegon was not a man who shirked his familial duties either. He was a man who stood by his family and did all he could help them rise in their fields. He was one stood by his family no matter what."

I motioned to Visenya.

"When many urged him to abandon his marriage to my aunt, and instead take a new younger wife, he refused to even consider it, standing by his wife as his marriage oaths said he would. Nor was he ever unfaithful towards either her, nor my mother."

"He was a man who took his duties seriously, whether they be his duties as king, as father, husband, or friend."

He was Aegon Targaryen. He was the Dragon. He was the conqueror."

"He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out. He was Aegon Targaryen. And now his reign is ended."

I motioned to Visenya as i stepped down.

In response she and Vhagar stepped up to the pyre.

Then, FIRE.

The pyre of Aegon Targaryen was engulfed in green dancing flames. His oil covered body and the similarly treated wood beneath him, went up like a candle.

As we watched his corpse literarily turn to ashes as we looked on, all around me people had a variety of different faces. Some in grief, others mainly focusing on me, Aegon kept a stone jaw and no tears, while Viserys wept quietly, obviously trying to keep it in. The maester who looked so much like Stannis Baratheon, also wept.

Visenya, still mounted of Vhagar had a rather Melancholic look. How did she feel about Aegon's death? Was she sad, relieved, angry? I had no insight into how she felt about Aegon at the moment. They had been estranged for years, but was there still some love there despite it? I did not know.

It took maybe 5 minutes before the dragonflames had done their work and nothing was left but ashes. Well, it was time for one last piece theater before the funeral feast. And once that was done, it was time to get this continent into the new age. MY age.

I climbed back up to what remained on the pyre. Then, with gloved hand i stuck my hand into the ashes, and retrieved the blackened, still hot blade.

Blackfyre, the blade of kings, now black as history would remember it. It would need some cleaning to get away the ashes. I stuck it back into it's sheath and began walking down again as the silent sisters hastily walked up to the pyre to begin their work of gathering egon's ashes.

---

Once the Kings Funeral feast was over, arranged for a set of meetings. The first was with Queen… Princess… Lady, with LADY Visenya.

As Lord commander he was tasked with being one of the Kings two guards. As he stepped up the stairs, he cursed age. He had been lord commander since the Order was founded. With two exceptions, all his original brothers had left him for the beyond.

And now he old. Old and tired. He loved this life, but he was under no illusions it would last much longer now.

Still, he was a brother of the King's guard and he did as he was commanded.

The meeting was in the room of the Painted map. He had been here considerably more than once, but everytime he came here, he could not help but recall his first visit here with his father, back when Aegon had been young, and only a lord.

Now that young man was dead and burned and a new king was the ruler in this room. His son. A son nearing 30 years of age.

By Balerion he felt old.

Aenys had opted not to seat himself on the heightened throne, instead standing by the Vale. Visenya stood across the table, looking at him with the expression she oh so often had when looking at her nephew. Then as he began talking it changed to a more worried one.

"There will be 4 rebellions. Or rather 3 revolts and one foreign invasion."

"The first…" he pointed at the mountains of the moon.

"Will be here in the Vale. Jonos Arryn, cousin of Lord Ronnel plans to overthrow his cousin and declare himself king of Mountain and Vale. He is currently heading to the Eyrie as we speak. There he simply wants to "Visit" his cousin. After getting access, he plans to throw him and his family out the moondoor."

That was… One of the most insane and stupid plans he had ever heard. Lady Visenya agreed.

"Is he a simpleton? What exactly is there to stop one of us from flying up there on dragonback and burn the castle with him in it?"

"Absolutely nothing." The king agreed.

"It's easily the most foolish of the four revolts by a man who REALLY should know better. Not that the others have much chance at success, but Jonos was alive during the conquest. He should know that one cannot beat dragons with castles."

"The next revolt…" He walked down south a bit, into the bay of crabs.

"Will be in the Harrenhal area. I'm not sure exactly how they will go about it, but the rebel leader is one Harren the Red, a supposed grandson of Harren the black."

Visenya snorted. "Not bloody likely."

"I don't really care about his familial claims. I care far more about the fact that he plans to name himself king of the Rivers."

"The third revolt-" The king pointed towards where the iron Islands would have been if they had been included on the 55 foot long map, but here he was interrupted by Lady Visenya."

"How do you know about these rebellions Nephew? You seem to know all about where people will rise in revolt."

The king smiled one of those smiles that he always gave when he was trying to put someone at ease.

"It's called a spy network aunt. As for these revolts, despite how they look, none of them are sudden. All of these have been building for some time, all awaiting the day my father died."

"I KNOW Aegon's spy network Aenys. I helped make it before you were born. And none of these revolts you seem to know about has been even hinted at from that network."

She furrowed her brow, while looking at his Grace as if he was a riddle she desperately wanted to solve.

The king's expression did not change.

"The best kind of secret information aunt, comes from sources which no one knows the origin of."

Then he went silent.

A line had been drawn.

Visenya choose not to cross it however and instead went back to the rebellions.

"Fine. What's the other two rebellions?"

"The third is on the Iron Islands. A man claiming to be Lodos, the man who drowned himself along with thousands of his followers back during the conquest of the islands, plans to declare himself King of The Iron Islands."

"That's even more inane than claiming to be Harren's Grandson."

"Indeed"

He then began walking down south into the bay between Dorne and the Stormlands.

"The fourth rebel is the only one who is not from our nation. He is a Dornish bandit leader who calls himself the Vulture King. He intends invade the stormlands and the reach and steal my throne."

"He is also the biggest threat in that while his goal cannot possibly succeed he is capable of doing the most damage, given that well over 10000 dornishmen are flocking to his cause."

"So an actual army then."

"Yes. However…" The kings grin instantly changed from calm and jovial to one that could only be described as predatory. It was such a change that he was actually taken aback by it. Arnys should NOT look like that.

"I happen to know that their first real target will be the castle of Blackhaven. All their might will fall upon the castle in one massive attack."

"Imagine then, how they will feel when Vhagar suddenly jumps up from the courtyard, and turns turns every single one of them to ashes."

Visenya stared at him. So did he. And his brother Sir Humfrey.

"It would seem i was mistaken Aenys. You have some of the old man's fire in you after all."

The kings predatory smile faded to a more cold and hardened look.

"I'm king now aunt. And a king's duty before anything else, is to protect his people. I intend to deal with all these rebels. And i do not plan on leaving any of them alive to continue rebelling against me. In any case…" He motioned to the spot on the map where Nightsong Lay.

"Before i go north to deal with Areyn, i will be sending a letter to Lord Dondarrion. Once he has sent a reply to Dragonstone, you will begin the teip there. Make sure you only fly at night, and do not stop at any castles. I do not want any news of you coming to leak out."

once you've reached Blackhaven, stay there and do not let Vhagar fly. At least not until the attack comes."

"You've planned this out i see."

The king chuckled. "For quite a while aye."

---

After the Lady had left, it was his Nephew's turn. Daemon Valeryon was the classic Velaryon. Tall, silver hair and purple eyes a handsome face and a strong jawline.

"Aenys!" He greeted his good brother along with a prideful smile as he sat down by the table by the kings side.

The king replied similarly.

"It's good to see you Daemon. I am sorry i haven't been able to chat with you before now, it's been a very hectic day."

"It is no matter. Sooo… I was told you had need of me?"

"Aye. I have about half a dozen tasks i need done, and as my master of ships you are by far the most qualified to deal with them."

If he was worried about being handed Half a dozen different tasks he did not seem to mind.

"Alright. So where do we start?"

"By turning blackwater bay into a freshwater lake."

A moment complete silence followed.

"Alright… First question. Why? And the second, how?"

The king kept grinning that oh so jovial smile as he replied.

"Well as for the why, i have recently created a technique for creating raising farmlands from the sea."

He handed over several of the parchements he had prepared for the meeting.

"This is a basic diagram explaining the methods i use to raise farmlands, but it is not important at the moment. I just want you to understand the idea."

The king then went into silence as Daemon read it. He had seen the kings diagrams and pictures and it seemed to make some sense. Gods it would be a lot of work though.

"It's… An interesting idea Aenys, but…. You do realise the sheer time and manpower this would require?"

"Aye. However once each section of land is raised, it will pay for itself. The problem is the bay itself. This kind of land reclamation is rather vurnerable to to flooding and more to the point, it's much easier to do it if we don't need to get rid of tons of salt from the land we are raising."

Daemon nodded slowly.

"That explains why. But you still have not explained how exactly we are to do this."

For that the king simply pulled out another parchment. This time a map of blackwater bay with some added lines across the water.

"Simple. We will make a set of massive dike connecting Driftmark to the mainland both to the north and south. Then we will make pumps along the dike to pump out seawater. Inside the bay, new water will flow from the Blackwater and all other river flowing into it, and over time the freshwater will replace the saltwater for good."

More silence.

"Also if you're worried about sea trade, don't worry, at Driftmark we will make canals that allows ships to pass into the bay without polluting it with salt."

More silence before finally he replied.

"That...was not my worry, but… Im glad youve thought this through. I do hope however you have a plan for where i am to get the sheer manpower i need to get this done?"

"I do."

Daemon looked REALLY relieved at that.

"You are to travel to Essos and buy the freedom of some 5000 young men, then give them the offer to work as free paid labour in Westeros. I imagine most will jump at the opportunity. In any case, keep buying men free until you have enough. Then transport them north to near here."

He pointed at the map.

"Then out them to work. They will of course need bulls, carts, horses and shovels to do the work, but we can easily aquire those. The problem at the moment is manpower."

"Finally i need to stress, this part YOU will do. I will not risk any sailors running off with the coin i'm sending with you east."

He nodded.

"Makes sense. What more work do you have for me?"

"Secondly, in two years time we are going to war, and i need to know many war galleys and transport ships we have in the royal fleet."

"46 and 34." Daemon replied instantly.

"Do we need more?"

"No. That will do just fine."

"Speaking off the Navy though…."

He pulled out another set of parchements.

"I am introducing a dress code for the navy, every member of the navy will dress by rank from now on. In any case, i wanted your thoughts on these designs. Anything that would not work?"

He looked through the drawings the king had given him.

"No… These should work. I already have men who dress in this style, but it's hardly the common style. This is an Essossi style you realise?"

"Yes."

No more was said on that subject.

"Alright? What's next?"

He pulled out yet another set of parchments. This time with drawing of boats.

"I'm also creating a new form of ships. Powered by steam, created by burning coals, these ships will move by the propulsion of a form of screws under the waterline which will push the the boat forward utilizing the same principle as how oars propels ships.

He understood the words the king said. He did not have any idea what the king actually said.

Daemon obviously felt the same way.

"You… Could you explain that again?"

The king sighed.

"You know what a waterwheel is right?"

"Yeah thats… That's the thing the mainlanders use to grind flour right?"

"Indeed. The waterwheels uses the power of the water to propel certain machinery inside the mills. It uses the power of the water to it's own ends."

"These kinds of boats will essentially be doing the exact opposite. It will use machinery and another powersource, in this case, steam, to power itself. The machinery will then move in such a way that it will affect the water around it, and by extention the boat itself."

"In this case, a form screw which will create massive force behind the ship, which propel it forward."

Daemon began to look through the drawings carefully.

"I… Think i get what you mean."

Well he was glad someone did, because he sure did not.

"And you wish for me to begin building these?"

"No."

"It will still be years off before i have the machinery these boats need ready to go."

"What i need your shipwrights to do, is fix a problem for me."

"Near the screw itself, you might notice that there is a hole for the metal pole the screw is attached to."

"What i need your shipwrights to do, is figure out a way to make this hole waterproof while also allowing it to rotate around at high speeds. If we cannot solve that problem, then ship design is useless, and i will need to design a much more cumbersome vessel."

The Lord mulled it over before nodding.

"Alright, i shall set my shipwrights to work on this problem."

He hesitated for a moment before asking.

"Anything else?"

This time the king pulled out a pretty large letter.

"Aye, i need you to deliver this this to lord stokeworth back in Kings Landing. I dare not send it by raven in case it is killed or something. It's a list of things i need commissioned from the city blacksmiths. Halberds, maces, knives and so on.

After that, Daemon said his farewells and hastily left the room, obviously afraid the king was going to give him even more impossible work.

The king sighed.

"And now it's time for Lord Tarth."

Humfrey walked out to get him while he stayed behind with the king.

"Tell me Corlys. What do you think of the Dothraki?"

The… The Dothraki?

"The savages of the plains? What of them?"

The king suddenly seemed melancholic as if he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"The Dothraki have exterminated million upon millions of people, and to this day they slaughter their way across Essos. Pillaging and raping as they please."

And the point was….what exactly? That the barbarians were monsters without equal?

"Yes, that is well known. They are essentially the Wildlings of the east."

"Yes."

"Tell me my Lord Commander, do the Dothraki deserve to exist? Do they deserve life?"

That was quite the stupid question.

"No more so than the Wildlings your grace."

That answer did not appear to make the king happy.

"Yes…. No more so than the wildlings beyond the wall…"

---

Maegor, son of Aegon would be remembered in Western Essos as a bringer of death and destruction. Before that however, he was regarded as the greatest Hero the continent had seen since the fall of Valyria. from Myr to the bone mountains his name would be held high for a short time before Aenys Conquest. Even after, many still sung his praises, especially Ibben, Saath and the cities of the bone mountains. Later Still, he would become similarly praised further east, in Yi-Ti and Nefer. The name Maegor would become a popular name in Essos amongst many of the lower classes, especially those who lived outside cities.

Extract from "The Burning Seas by Karai Oda, Historian of the Lengi Empire.