The Dragon of House Peverell
“Lucerys would be a fine King wouldn’t he,” Jacaerys whispered into Haedryn’s porcelain skin. They lay together in Jacaerys’ bed, silky black sheets just barely preserving their modesty and making it clear what they had been doing only a few moments earlier. Haedryn turned his head to look at his new lover over his shoulder.
“You are abdicating your position as your mother’s heir?” Haedryn was almost incredulous.
“A King needs to be able to wed to have an heir,” Jacaerys said, pulling Haedryn to lay on his back as he used his arms to hold himself above his lover. “My mother will have a hard enough time reigning as Queen. I will not make it harder by being an heir unable to have an heir. I wish not to wed Baela, even with all the difficulties that will arise from not doing so. I will not do as my father Laenor did, and deny who I am only to find myself unhappy in a marriage made of duty.”
“Jacaerys,” Haedryn pulled himself from Jacaerys’ grip and into a sitting position. “I thought that you were as yet unbetrothed?” Haedryn slid from the bed and began dressing swiftly. “If I had known you were already promised, I’d have never fallen for your pretty.. Ugh,” Haedryn cut himself off and was out of the room before Jacaerys could protest that there was no betrothal as of yet.
Haedryn of the valyrian House Peverell had arrived on the shores of Westeros nearly four years ago. He was the last of his family and had come to Westeros from far east beyond the Jade Gates after word of other surviving dragonlords had reached him. Undoubtedly these stories were carried by those who met Lord Corlys or his crew as he made one of his great journeys. Haedryn had made the journey alone at only twelve namedays old but for two manservants a few masters at arms and the crew of the four ships he’d purchased to carry the last of his House’s riches with him as he left the lands that had been his home.
He’d been given a small amount of land on the eastern part of the Dragonstone Isle and swore his obeisance to the Princess of Dragonstone, as both his Liege and future Queen. Despite having a small keep raised for himself, only two towers and a central hall Haedryn spent much of his time until he was four and ten in Dragonstone Castle as a sort of unofficial ward of the Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. This had caused a closeness between him and Jacaerys who was the same age, that despite the past two years, which had seen him traveling to various port cities to create trade agreements both for his own House and for House Targaryen of Dragonstone, had grown deeper. Most of these trade agreements concerned the black and gold saltwater pearls that could be naturally farmed, though not without difficulty, from the wild seawaters around Dragonstone, as well as the dragonglass beads, and carved decorations that the small folk that were now Haedryn’s people had turned into an economic opportunity.
Dragonglass was usually a shiny black that caught the light and could be polished to an almost reflective hue but the area that was now Haedryn’s lands also had the far rarer colors of green and blue and even a small deposit of rainbow banded obsidian. Haedryn had only come back to port at Dragonstone two weeks ago and he and Jacaerys, both six and ten now, had swiftly regained the closeness they’d been building two years previous. Stolen kisses and caresses had led to sneaking into each other’s rooms. Fumbled frottaging against each other had led to further exploration. Haedryn had even been about to reveal one of House Peverell’s biggest secrets to the boy he loved before the dagger of betrayal had stabbed his heart.
That the boy he loved would betray something as important as a betrothal to House Velaryon. That he would break one, for him. Even as romantic as it seemed Haedryn knew that it could not happen. It would end with House Targaryen’s words, Blood and Fire.
Haedryn ordered the servants to pack his things and prepare them for the short trip to Tide’s Grasp, the name of the small town that had sprung up around Dragontide Keep, his castle. He needed to make his polite goodbyes to the Princess and her husband Prince Daemon before leaving Dragonstone Castle as he had no wish to insult either.
It was not to be. Word had come from Driftmark and King’s Landing that in the wake of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s devastating injury and subsequent fevered sleep, his conniving younger brother Vaemond sought to have the succession of Driftmark changed. Something that if successful would have a domino effect on the succession of the iron throne. The Greens were most certainly supportive of Vaemond’s position in the petition, and so Lucerys, or rather his mother Princess Rhaenyra would need to gather her allies to counter the petition. Instead of Tide’s Grasp, it would seem that the Old Friend, Haedryn’s flagship, would be going to King’s Landing.
When Princess Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon had mentioned her granddaughter’s betrothals, Haedryn had locked his knees. Only she had revealed that while Rhaena was betrothed to her stepbrother Lucerys, Baela was betrothed to Kermit Tully, great grandson of Lord Grover Tully. Haedryn’s breath had caught but he hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to Jacaerys that eve, since the Prince had been feasting with his family on the King’s orders.
The Targaryen’s of Dragonstone had left early the next morning on the tide. Unfortunately Haedryn was not so easily able to leave King’s Landing. He had been invited by the Master of Coin, Lord Lyman Beesbury to discuss the tax on luxury goods within Westeros and how it could be lowered to help pull some of the fortune Haedryn was making more directly into the economy of Westeros since currently, he was finding a better market for pearl and obsidian jewelry in the Free Cities of Braavos and Pentos than in Westeros. He did however make plans to leave on the ‘morrow.
“You will either swear yourself to King Aegon Targaryen, or you can lose your head,” Ser Criston Cole said as Haedryn was pushed to his knees within the Dragonpit, his own sword, the rippled gray and white valyrian steel blade of House Peverell, Eternal Rest, held to his throat. King Viserys had died in the night and Haedryn had been pulled roughly from his bed and guarded until he was brought here, to watch the Usurper’s coronation. Aegon held Blackfyre in his hand, the Conquer's crown stolen and placed upon his head as he stared down at Haedryn’s form. Aegon’s hair was greasy, but the ethereal white denoted his valyrian blood. His skin was pallid and yellowed, likely from lack of sleep and a diet of mostly wine and other alcohols, his purple eyes almost dull. His face was haughty, more his mother’s more solid features with his father’s coloring. In contrast, Haedryn, face already having been bloodied from Ser Criston’s steel mantled fist, looked delicate, like soft white porcelain, streaked vividly by the red of his blood. His eyes were bright, and afire, one green the other purple. His hair was silvery white with a single black streak through the bangs at the front, though it was all currently pulled back in a low tie.
“Nyke swear naejot se drēje Prince, dāria Rhaenyra hen lentor Targārien,” Haedryn snarled, bracing himself for the killing blow. If only he’d done the Peverell ritual the moment he’d first turned of age at six and ten. But no he’d been sentimental and wanted his dearest friend, and then his lover Jacaerys, to be the first to witness his draconian form. Ser Criston would likely not know what his valyrian words meant, but the defiance in which Haedryn had spoken them and the way Prince Aemond glared at him, his head would be separated from his body momentarily.
The blow never came. The ground beneath the dragonpit suddenly split and burst open. Even before Haedryn realized who and what it was, he was off his knees, capitalizing the moment to slam Ser Criston off his feet, hands ripping his blade from the scoundrel knight's own even as he used the man’s own white cloak to blind him.
The gold cloaks that were loyal to the Greens attempted to keep anyone from leaving the dragonpit as Princess Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon stared down the newly crowned Usurper and his gathered faction atop her dragon, but they had been expecting unarmored small folk, not a valyrian steel armed, pissed off, nobleman. Haedryn cut down three before he was able to use the throng of fleeing smallfolk to flee himself. Getting out of Kingslanding proved more difficult. The ports were locked down and it was clear that the goldcloaks, and any man looking to cash in on the hundred gold dragon bounty Haedryn had on his head were searching for him. Even Daemon’s old paramour was looking to cash in. Apparently one of the gold cloaks Haedryn had killed had been the recently appointed Commander of the Goldcloaks, Gwayne Hightower, the Queen Dowager’s brother.
Ironically Haedryn spent most of his time hidden within the Red Keep itself, or rather the secret passages within the castle. It was when he heard both the news that Prince Aemond was to fly to Storm’s End and find himself a betrothal, and with it the support of the Stormlands, and of the courier that would bring message to the Triarchy, that he redoubled his efforts to escape the city. Information meant nothing if it could not reach those who needed it in order to use it.
Haedryn managed to find an escape from the city via the cliffside. He had come across the precariously carved pathway completely by accident. He’d been trying to slowly climb down the cliff when he’d slipped and fallen a few feet, caught himself on a ledge twisting to at least be fully on the rock instead of open air and slid a few feet further down on his ass to land on a ledge four feet above what was clearly a stone staircase. From there it had taken nearly two days to walk to Rosby, from there another day via ship to get to Tide’s Grasp. He’d report to Dragonstone Castle shortly but surely the Princess Rhaenys would give notice of the Green’s usurpation of the Crown. He had a ritual to complete.
“Lord Peverell, we thought you were lost in King’s Landing,” Princess Rhaenyra said, when Haedryn entered the room after being announced. She had gathered her court around her. Her two eldest sons and her two step daughters were in the room of the painted table which was alight. So too was Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys and the other Lords of the Narrow Sea.
“I had thought much the same. I was to lose my head by my own sword in the dragonpit for not swearing to the Usurper,” Haedryn explained. “Princess Rhaenys’ own escape atop Meleys provided an opportunity for mine own. I also bring information with me.”
“Very well,” Queen Rhaenyra said, motioning for Haedryn to fully join her gathered council.
“As I was saying,” Lord Velaryon began, “The consequence of my near-demise in the Stepstones is that we now control them. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we further seal the Gullet we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.”
“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself,” Princess Rhaenys said.
“My ships will join yours Lord Corlys. However I mentioned information I had gathered during my escape. The matter of the Triarchy is far from complete. It would seem Lord Otto Hightower was far more treasonous than we’d believe whilst King Viserys was still alive. He’s been in communication with them for some time now. Sellsword companies have already been contacted and couriers have sent messages. Lord Tyland Lannister is to meet with an admiral of the Triarchy in his position as the Usurper’s Master of Ships.
“We have the ships, and they no longer have the element of surprise,” Lord Corlys said.
“When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King’s Landing, lay siege to the Red Keep and force the Green’ surrender,” Lord Bartimos Celtigar said.
“If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie and Storms End. Riverun is ours by virtue of Baela’s betrothal, but they are central, as always any fighting done on the field will likely spill into them. Still we should send them a message,” the Queen said.
“I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” Maester Gerardys said, and Haedryn was just about to interrupt when Prince Jacaerys did,
“We should bear those messages. Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.”
“The Prince is right, Your Grace,” Lord Celtigar began but Haedryn interrupted.
“The Greens believe the same. Prince Aemond is planning to travel to Storm’s End himself, to offer his hand in marriage. I doubt he’ll respect the convent of messengers, Your Grace,” Haedryn said.
“No dragon alone can withstand Vhagar, Your Grace. Not to mention that for any dragonrider to kill Prince Aemond would be an act of kinslaying,” Lord Celtigar said. “House Baratheon and the Stormlands with them may be lost to us.”
“No so,” Haedryn said. “I am not kin to Prince Aemond.” All eyes turned to Haedryn as they processed what his words might mean. Prince Daemon came to a conclusion first. The wrong one but a conclusion nonetheless.
“YOU CLAIMED A TARGARYEN DRAGON WITHOUT LEAVE FROM YOUR QUEEN!” Prince Daemon roared, drawing darksister.
“No,” Haedryn remained calm. “House Targaryen rules the seven kingdoms, this is true. It is also true that they were considered barely landed Lords when Valyria fell, just as House Velaryon was barely a Masterly House. House Peverell numbered amongst the fourteen. My House may have only me to its name but that does not mean I have forgotten its teachings or secrets. Lord Corlys, do you know the origin of your House, why your sigil is a seahorse? One would think a man as prideful as you would know your ancestry.” The gathered Lords and Royals seemed taken aback by Haedryn’s blunt but calm demeanor and words. It took Corlys Velaryon a moment but he answered.
“According to the stories,” Lord Corlys began. “A fisherman’s daughter lay with a sea dragon, and their son went on to take the name Velaryon.” Haedryn’s lips twitched.
“A fisherman’s son actually,” Haedryn said. “He took Lord Antethys Peverell’s fourth son to husband, and sired a child with him. Quite the scandal at the time, a commoner wedding a child of a High Lord. You see there’s an ability every Peverell is born with, one that with a small ritual comes to the surface. Tradition dictates we are to perform the ritual on our sixteenth nameday. I learned from the letters I had from my parents and I performed it upon returning to my Keep.” Haedryn began walking towards the open balcony, they followed, enraptured almost by his story. “It is why no trueborn Peverell has ever claimed a dragon, why we’ve never needed too.” His buttocks were against the low balcony now. Nearly three hundred feet of open air below the balcony before the rough sea split by sharp spires of obsidian. Haedryn threw himself backwards almost revelling in the fearful screams at his actions. He never touched the ocean.
Powerful wingbeats brought Haedryn back up to the balcony. Gasps, this time awefilled instead of fearful. In dragon form Haedryn was magnificent. His primary scales were the silver white of his hair, as were the bony formations on his head, with the exception of two which were midnight black. His tertiary scales however were a deep rich verdant green. His eyes, much as they were in human form, were mismatched, green and purple. In size Haedryn was larger than sheepstealer but not quite as bulky as Vhagar. He would grow as he aged, and he was still youthful yet, so baring a devastating death he had many years to grow. Unlike the Targaryen dragons he was four legged. A few more wingbeats that knocked those gathered back a few steps and Haedryn shifted to land, once more in human form to stand on the low balcony.
“Every Peverell has a dragon form,” Haedryn said, continuing his little speech once he had human vocal cords again. “Like dragons, our ability to sire or bear children is not dictated by sex, though throughout history most of us have picked a gender to stick with. That is not however why your sigil is a seahorse. Every Peverell also has a second animal form, one distinctive to them. My father was a black hart, my mother a white doe. Saerythys Peverell, the mother of House Velaryon, was a seahorse. That is why your sigil is what it is, Lord Corlys.”
“And your other form?” Queen Rhaenyra asked. Haedryn smiled and shifted. His other form was that of a thick billed raven. Large, probably weighing in at about two kilograms, Haedryn was once more primarily albino white, with three black crown feathers. His eyes were both black in this form and he hopped forward to take a quick swooping flight over the gathered men and women fighting the urge to shit when he passed over Prince Daemon. He landed and shifted once more.
“So we send Lord Haedryn to Storm’s End,” Lord Celtigar said, breaking the silence that was growing. “And the Prince’s Jacaerys and Lucerys to Winterfell and the Eyrie respectively.” Haedryn grinned wickedly as he spoke,
“I have a better idea.”
Arrax was a beautiful dragon, but a dragon nonetheless, therefore Haedryn wouldn’t be able to keep up by flying in the crow form needed for the act of subterfuge they were about to commit. However Arrax was as of yet too small to carry two riders, even if Haedryn was considerably smaller than the four and ten year old Prince Lucerys at five feet four inches to the Prince’s five feet seven inches. So Haedryn was riding Arrax in crow form in the space between the saddle handles.
As Prince Lucerys would be riding to Storm’s End as a messenger certain rights were expected. The first being that as a messenger he could not be attacked within a Lord’s home. This also however meant that he would not be allowed to physically throw the first blow in any fight that might occur regardless. Prince Lucerys’ only duties were to fly to Storm’s End, deliver his mother’s letter and fly home back to Dragonstone. Haedryn’s duties were more elaborate.
Once in sight of Storm’s End, Haedryn would leave Lucerys and Arrax to circle around the keep to buy some time for Haedryn, as the young Peverell dove, still in white raven form, to land just out of sight to take human form once more. He’d enter Storm’s End via the front gate and seek an audience with Borros Baratheon. They’d be playing it as though Haedryn had escaped King’s Landing and made his way to Storm’s End. That both valyrian boys would be arriving to Storm’s End at the same time would be brushed off as mere coincidence. A bit of mummery all told, but unlike Lucerys’ mission as a messenger, Haedryn’s was to kill or capture Aemond Targaryen through any means necessary.
Rain pelted down as they made the final approach and Haedryn moved to let himself fall into a sweeping dive, pulling his wings close until he was just barely ten feet from the ground when he snapped them open pulling out of the dive to sail effortlessly despite the storm above. Far to the left side of Storm’s End he heard Vhagar’s bellow and he instinctively kree’d back a threatening call that was quickly lost to the wind. The rain made it easier to ensure he wasn’t seen shifting back to human form and also made it easy to do so closer to the castle gates. It was hard enough to see with torchlight in the dusk but with the storm it was nearly impossible.
“Halt!” the guardsman called as Haedryn moved to cross through the gate, clothing nearly soaked through already.
“I am Lord Haedryn of the House Peverell. I seek an audience with Lord Baratheon. It is of utmost importance,” Haedryn said. It only took ten minutes for Haedryn to find himself in the Round Hall of Storm’s End where Lord Borros sat clearly partaking in a feast of sorts, his four daughters and wife arrayed around him along with a good many Storm Lords that Haedryn knew not by sigil alone. Prince Aemond was speaking with one of the middle daughters.
“Lord Haedryn of the House Peverell, Lord of the Dragontide!” the crier announced as Haedryn entered the Hall. Haedryn walked back straight into the room, Eternal Rest belted to his waist, uncaring of the rainwater that poured from his long hair, even tied back as it was, to drip on the stone floor marking almost his progress.
“Lord Peverell!” Borros was almost jovial as he greeted Haedryn. “Welcome, do join us.”
“Join you?” Haedryn asked dryly. “I feast not with usurpers, nor the brothers of them. I wonder why you do?” Haedryn would not receive an answer as the crier spoke again.
“Prince Lucerys of the Houses Velaryon and Targaryen, Heir of Driftmark!” Haedryn heard the scoff that Prince Aemond gave at the later half of the crier’s words.
“Lord Borros,” Lucerys strode forward, keeping his back near perfectly straight, though he had to flick his curls from his face, rain water spraying slightly at the movement. “I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen.”
“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King, Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it,” Lord Borros said as he motioned for a guardsman to take the message from Prince Lucerys. “What’s your mother’s message?”
“It is not a dragon that does not know, but a grasping tower,” Haedryn murmured just loud enough for the hall to hear though no one responded, as Lord Borros bellowed for the maester. Evidently the man was unable to read. The man’s face grew more irate the longer the maester whispered in his ear before finally he turned to speak to Prince Lucerys once again.
“Remind me of my father’s oath?” the man growled angrily. “King Aegon at least came with an offer. My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed boy?”
“My lord, I am not free to marry. I’m already betrothed,” Lucerys answered, bowing his head slightly. Haedryn wanted to smack the back of it. Lucerys had no reason to show shame in this instance. The only shameful party was Lord Baratheon.
“So you come with empty hands,” Borros said, trying to shame the young Prince further. Haedryn had had enough.
“Is Prince Aemond to take the Baratheon name as well I wonder?” Haedryn asked.
“Of course not!” Prince Aemond shouted at Haedryn.
“Ahh, I see, so House Targaryen is to rule Storm’s End should Lord Borros not have a son then?” Haedryn asked mildly, watching Lord Borros’ face.
“Storm’s End is and will always be the seat of House Baratheon,” Lord Borros rumbled. “If it should come to pass that I don’t have a son the seat will pass to my cousin, who also bears our House name.”
“So this marriage of your daughter is for a Prince, one with no lands, no incomes, beyond that of what his Usurper brother provides him, and in return you give him your sword and those of your men?” Haedryn continued. “I feel as though I’ve heard this story before. Why I believe Prince Daemon once provided such swords for his brother. I believe it was only a few years after King Viserys’ coronation that he was banished the first time. Of course it was to his wife’s hold, but as you said. Your daughter will provide no holdings. Perhaps Prince Daemon might host them in Pentos. He does have a villa there.” Feast on that, Haedryn thought. Nothing that he’d said had been untrue. Certainly Aegon, if he managed to hold the Iron Throne, as unlikely as it was, could grant his brother lands. As of yet however, Aemond had nothing but his name to bring to this marriage being negotiated, and King Viserys and his tumultuous relationship and his brother was indicative of what could happen when one's position relied on the benevolence of an older brother.
“Enough,” Lord Borros hissed, almost sounding like a cat instead of a man. “Go home pup, and tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.” Prince Lucerys straightened his back once again, finding strength in Haedryn’s defense.
“I shall take your answer to the Queen,” Prince Lucerys said, taking on “My Lord,” as an afterthought.
“Wait,” Aemond called out, clearly riled. Haedryn’s work had been done. He glanced at Lucerys and gave the other a slight nod. “My Lord Strong. Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”
“I will not fight you,” Lucerys said. “I came as a messenger, not a warrior.”
“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said, giving Lucerys a cruel grin. “No. I want you to put out your eye as payment for mine. One will serve. I would not blind you. Mm, plan to make a gift of it to my mother.” Lucerys’ answer was simple as he looked at the blade Aemond had tossed across the ground towards him.
“No.”
“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond hissed.
“Not here,” Lord Borros warned.
“Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond started to move towards Lucerys and Haedryn put himself in the middle.
“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros shouted. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon,” Lord Borros ordered. The thunder of the storm crashed ominously. “Now.” As Lucerys took his leave, escorted by armsmen of House Baratheon, Haedryn spoke.
“I’ll take my leave as well now, Lord Borros, for I fear the miasma that permeates the air around traitors and oathbreakers. I hope you remember my words, for towers burn, but dragons do not,” Haedryn said, before slipping out after the younger Prince. He reached Lucerys as the young man reached his dragon.
“Remember, stay as low as you can without hitting the water, through the spires of the Straits. Buy enough time that I can take him out, then to Dragonstone as fast as you can. He’s been riled, by you more than me, safe flight, My Prince,” Haedryn said, clasping Lucerys’ arm in a brotherhood grasp, before nodding and jogging towards the gate in the outer shield wall. If Haedryn had judged Aemond’s nature correctly the one eyed Prince would soon be mounting his own dragon to give chase and he needed to already be in the air when the Prince did so.
Rain battered his feathers as he pushed himself higher into the sky. The moment Vhagar rose to the sky was heard for miles even over the sound of the thundering rain as she roared her approval. Haedryn let out a kree and flew higher watching and waiting for his shot. There! He shifted midflight, feathers giving way to scale. He roared in challenge and dove. Haedryn’s bulk pushed Vhagar and her rider away from Arrax and Lucerys and forced Aemond to command the massive she dragon to pull up.
Haedryn engaged Vhagar and her rider in a sort of hit and withdraw tactic that kept the war dragon from chasing after Arrax and his rider. Haedryn continued this slowly drawing Vhagar and Aemond westward towards the north eastern reaches of the dornish marches and the kingswood while Lucerys escaped to via the Straits of Tarth. They danced together in the sky, Haedryn just barely avoiding the devastating attacks consisting of razor sharp teeth even as he almost laughingly dove into the flames she belched out at him. Fire could not harm a dragon, and Haedryn was a dragon. Ten minutes of taunting tactics and Haedryn shifted again using his much smaller form to maneuver around the bulk of Vhagar. He gave a chuckling caw at the shout of surprise at his sudden disappearance that Aemond gave out. Vhagar echoed her rider’s surprise giving out a bellowing roar at the fact that her enemy had seemingly disappeared. Landing neatly on Vhagar’s massive back, Haedryn shifted a third time, this time to human form.
It wasn’t difficult to clamber across Vhagar’s scales even though she was airborne. He supposed part of it was that he had no fear of falling, for even if he did, a single shift would keep him airborne. Aemond didn’t even know he was there until Haedryn put one arm around the elder boy’s neck while pressing the other one on the back of his neck. Despite struggling and even throwing his head back to try and headbutt Haedryn, Prince Aemond was quickly unconscious, and it only took a bit of maneuvering to search the Prince on dragon back, confiscate weapons, and undo the chains that kept him locked to the saddle on Vhagar’s back. Twenty minutes later found Haedryn in dragon form, carrying Aemond in one of his front claws, Vhagar following behind, clearly annoyed but unwilling to risk her bonded rider by attacking him.
Aemond awoke as Haedryn descended on Dragonstone. He felt the Prince squirming as he circled the dark spires of Dragonstone Castle and tightened his claw slightly in warning. Caraxes roared at Haedryn, both greeting and warning, as he descended and followed that with a roar of greeting to Vhagar, who he’d been close to during the time Prince Daemon had been wed to Lady Laena Velaryon. Haedryn landed with a crashing sound, slightly unbalanced as he kept the foot holding Aemond off the ground. The Queen and her Queensguard as well the Prince and her council of Lords had hurried outside into the courtyard to greet him. Prince Lucerys stood to the left of his mother and only a step behind still in his wet riding leathers. Vhagar landed with an echoing crash on the stone outside of the walled courtyard. Haedryn lowered his head to look at his Queen before tossing Prince Aemond forward, where he rolled and tried to come to his feet only to find the tip of Dark Sister beneath his chin. Haedryn shifted back to human form with a grin.
Seven weeks later and all the Lords of the realm were swearing their allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, while Haedryn who in a few moments would be her newly appointed Master of Trade, the first to ever hold the position stood with the rest of her Small Council stood a few feet away down the steps of the Iron Throne to the left of where her heir, Crown Prince Jacaerys stood. Haedryn and his abilities had become extremely well known as a result of his actions to help put his Queen on the Throne. He had delivered Aegon and Aemond to the Night’s Watch himself in dragon form after their sentencing. As a result he had received an influx of marriage proposals, mostly with female suitors but as his ability to bear children became well known, more and more second and third sons put their names in the race. They would be disappointed after the announcements of the day were over.
Of the traitors, the Queen Dowager, Alicent Hightower had been sent to the Silent Sisters rather than executed in respect to her many years of loyalty to King Viserys and her care of him in his later years even though she betrayed her husband's will upon his death. Her father had no such luck. He was executed by dragon fire, specifically by Caraxes, as were Lord Tyland Lannister, Lord Larys Strong, Lord Jasper Wyld, Ser Criston Cole and Grandmaester Orwyle, who made up the entirety of the Small Council of the Usurper. The offending Kingsguard were given the option of the Wall or death. As for the Usurper himself, he was attained, gelded, and sent to the Wall, after several women, many of them the serving maids of the Red Keep came forward with alligations of rape. Prince Aemond was also sent to the Wall, however, while the former Prince Aegon was sent to Castle Black, Aemond was sent to Shadow Tower. Neither was permitted to bring their dragons.
Prince Daeron was given the choice between the Citadel and the Wall, and chose the Citadel. Prince Daemon argued fiercely against the Prince being offered the choice given the Citadel’s location was Oldtown, but Haedryn had gone himself to see the boy take his oaths and to bring Tessarion back to King’s Landing. Princess Helaena swore herself to her sister and swore her children to Rhaenyra as well, abdicating any claim the Prince Jaehaerys, and Jaehaera, and her as of yet unborn child might have to the throne. The children’s marriages were to be under the purview of Queen Rhaenyra, and would likely be to loyal minor Lords and Ladies once they were of age. House Hightower was forced to give up much of their lands to House Beesbury, both in reparation for Lord Beesbury’s untimely death at the hands of Ser Criston Cole when he attempted to uphold Queen Rhaenrya’s claim and to distribute some of the power hold over the Reach.
The Tyrell’s strongest bannerman were no longer, even if House Hightower lived on. As for Lord Hobert, he was forced first to swear to Rhaenyra and then sent to Castle Black to live out the rest of his years at the Wall while his eldest son ruled the Hightower. Likewise Lord Jason Lannister and Lord Borros Baratheon were also sent to the Wall, their eldest daughters lifted up to rule the Paramount House of Lannister and Baratheon respectively, although Lady Johanna served as her three year old daughter’s regent. Another notable execution, though it had been done quietly, and by King Consort Daemon’s blade rather than dragon, was that of Lady Misery, the foreigner Mysaria who had been one of those to send men to find and deliver Haedryn to the Greens after he’d escaped the Dragon Pit. The last of the Northern Lords, who had taken the longest to arrive in King’s Landing by virtue of distance swore themselves to Queen Rhaenyra and her heir and she stood.
“To those of you who never wavered from your oath, who upheld my father’s will, I thank you,” Queen Rhaenyra said. “To those who didn’t, well if you’re still standing here, you know it is only because of Our good will. You have a second chance to uphold your oaths to Us. Do not waste it, for We will not suffer such folly twice.” Queen Rhaenyra’s authority was unquestionable as she used the royal ‘We’. Haedryn knew what was coming. “The formation of my Small Council has surely been much speculated. Princess Rhaenys, step forward,” Queen Rhaenyra called. The second eldest living member of House Targaryen in the room stepped forward to stand at the foot of the stairs that led to the iron throne. Prince Jacaerys stepped forward to meet her.
“My Queen,” the elder Princess gave a slight curtsy before facing Prince Jacaerys.
“My rule will change the order of things. In light of this, I call upon you to serve as Hand of the Queen,” Rhaenyra stated.
“I accept, Your Grace,” Princess Rhaenys bowed her head slightly as Prince Jacaerys pinned the pin of the hand on her dress. She stepped back as did Prince Jacaerys as the Queen called for Lord Corlys to step forward and accept the position of Master of Ships. Ser Merrick of the House Manderly was called forth to be the Master of Coin and Lord Samwell Blackwood was raised to be Master of Laws. Lady Sabitha Frey was raised to the position of Mistress of Whispers. Ser Steffan Darklyn was acknowledged as the Lord Commander of the Queensguard and then came the revealing of the new positions of the Small Council. The first was the acknowledgement and official raising of the Commander of the Gold Cloaks to its own position on the Small Council. This position was filled by the King-Consort Daemon Targaryen.
“Prince Jacaerys, heir to the Iron Throne, step forward,” the Queen called. This time it was Daemon holding the pin. “Long has it been that the heir to the throne held an honorary advisor position on the Small Council. The time has come to make that position official, every heir to the Iron Throne hereafter will have a seat.” A pin, a valyrian steel targaryen dragon sigil with a golden crown above it, was pinned to his chest by his stepfather.
“Your Grace,” Jacaerys bowed to his mother before stepping back for the next person to be called to serve. Lord Staunton was raised to the new position as Master of Great Works, and was charged with the responsibility of infrastructure projects across the realm. His first responsibility was to be the expansion of the sewers that served King’s Landing.
“Lord Haedryn Peverell,” the Queen called. Haedryn stepped forward. “Like the Princess Rhaenys you were in King’s Landing when the Greens usurped the Iron Throne. You withstood the threat of death to declare for me, your true Queen. Furthermore you brought extensive war-changing information to me when you managed to escape. Your actions during the battles that followed, and your abilities carried in your blood and valyrian heritage changed the result of the war that followed extensively. It is due to your quick thinking, and your abilities that a great deal of the realm’s women are not widows, that crops are being harvested in the fields rather than burnt or left to fallow. For that you are to be rewarded. First with your new position as Master of Trade. Secondly, the Stepstones, recently retaken and garrisoned by Lord Corlys, has need of men and Lords to permanently bring it into the fold of the seven Kingdoms. You are to be raised as Lord Paramount of the Narrow Sea with the concession that your second born child, male or female shall wed the second son or daughter of Lord Corlys heir, keeping the name Peverell, to rule the seat being built at Bloodstone.” Haedryn brought himself down to one knee as he knelt before his Queen. These rewards had all been arranged beforehand and this was all a bit of a play for the realm as a whole. “Your firstborn, of course, will rule from the Iron Throne after you and my son.”
The public announcement of Haedryn’s betrothal to the Crown’s Heir in the throne room was met with a bit of an intake of breath from the gathered Lords and Ladies before clapping. Jacaerys took Haedryn’s hand and pulled him to stand tall even though he was a good many inches shorter than the dark haired Prince. The pin of his station, gold and stylized as a weigh scale with tiny sapphires on one scale and tiny rubies on the other was pinned to his chest by his betrothed. Jacaerys smiled down at him and raised his hand to tilt his chin and press a small, chaste kiss to Haedryn’s lips. Together they turned and faced the crowd, hand in hand, smiles on their faces, of Lords and Ladies as Queen Rhaenyra announced that the feast celebrating her coronation, and the betrothal of her son and heir would be commencing in the Great Hall in two hours time.