thebrute7
Walker of the Planes
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Three
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282 AC - Entry Forty Seven
The word came today, by raven. The first major battle of the Rebellion has been fought at Gulltown, a victory for the rebels. Aerys flew into a great rage before his court when the news reached him.
282 AC - Entry Fifty
Another major battle, this time made up of three small ones at Summerhall. All victories for Baratheon, and he even turned his foes forces to his side.
Father had prisoners brought up from the Black Cells and burned alive in his presence. The ecstasy on his face as he watched them burn was among the most frightening things I believe I have ever borne witness to.
282 AC - Entry Fifty Four
The year is almost over. Another battle has taken place, a victory for those loyal to my father this time, if an indecisive one. Lord Tarly crushed Roberts forces in open battle, and the Tyrell forces laid siege to Storm's End.
Though my father's anger has abated for a time, it is only a matter of time before some new defeat sets him off. Already his temper is short with his Hand, Owen Merryweather.
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I was with my mother at the gates of the Red Keep when my sister-in-law arrived at the castle. Elia Martell had been away in Dorne since shortly before the start of the Rebellion, visiting her family there. She had been called back to the Keep by my father.
It wasn't a subtle ploy, having her remain in the Red Keep as a hostage to ensure the loyalty of the Dornish. But Aerys didn't do subtle anymore. Maybe he was a good king when he ascended the throne, but he isn't anymore.
Her entourage filed into the courtyard, a half dozen Dornish cavalry preceding her carriage, bearing the Martell and Targaryen coats of arms.
Elia was a pretty woman. Not a stunning beauty, but certainly above average, with olive skin and black eyes. She stepped out of her carriage, holding her heir Aegon, about nine or ten months of age now. Her daughter slipped down from the raised steps behind her, grasping her mother's skirt.
Rhaenys took after her mother, with lighter but still olive skin and her mother's brown hair. In fact, you might never have known she was a Targaryen, were it not for her eyes. In the light of the sun you could tell that they were deep violet, so dark that when the sun was not shining, they looked black.
"My Queen." Elia greeted Mother with a curtsey.
"Call me mother," Rhaella reminded her. Rhaella hated being so formally addressed by her own family.
"As you wish, mother."
"Princess," I said. "It is good to see you again, sister."
Elia looked down at me and smiled. "Viserys. You have grown these last months.
"Maybe. But not as much as your daughter." I extended my hand to the girl. "You have gotten taller Rhaenys."
Rhaenys curtseyed silently. It was perhaps a bit shaky, but she was not quite yet three.
"I am sure that your mother and my own have much to speak about. Would you like to come with me to the garden? I'd be happy to tell you a story."
She looked up at her mother. "Can I?"
Elia me in the eye for a moment. "Go. And Viserys, don't fill her head with nonsense."
Rhaenys took my hand and I led her towards the garden. "I won't," I called back as I stopped and leaned down so my head was next to Rhaenys' and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "So. What story would you like to hear?"
"Don't know."
"Hm. How about the story of your namesake? Rhaenys Targaryen, the Sister Queen of Aegon the Conqueror who flew into battle on the back of her dragon Meraxes, to conquer the Seven Kingdoms?"
"Mmmm..." Rhaenys' tongue poked out from between her lips as she thought. "'kay."
"Come on then, we need to find a good spot to sit, before some ladies of the court steal all the sunny spots."
Rhaenys little eyes went wide at that thought began to walk a little too quickly and tripped in her skirt. Luckily I still had hold of her hand, so she didn't fall far before I caught her.
"Not so fast."
"Find a spot!" Rhaenys insisted, tugging on my hand and pointing toward the garden.
"All right, let's go."
We found an open spot in the middle of the gardens, where trees sprung up around us, but the sun shone down through the leaves onto the field. Rhaenys plopped down across from me, and I began the tale.
"Rhaenys was born on Dragonstone, the ancestral home of our family since the Doom of Valyria. She was the younger sister of her brother Aegon and their older sister Visenya. In Targaryen tradition she was wed to her brother, along with her older sister, and the three of them would make all of Westeros tremble in their wake..."
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283 AC - Entry Three
Another battle, another defeat. It was at the Stoney Sept this time. Lord Jon Connington, the new Hand of the King, replacing Owen Merryweather, led the forces loyal to my father, and he came so very close to ending Robert himself, but the Stark and Tully forces arrived before Jon could find and end the traitor, and the battle was lost.
Though Lord Connington was able to retreat in good order, and was a close friend of my brother Rhaegar, Aerys was enraged at his failure. HE stripped Connington of his lands and titles and exiled him from the Seven Kingdoms.
My father's overreactions to failure have been growing worse as the rebellion drags on. Jon Connnington was both competent and loyal, and Aerys threw him away. Why would you throw away a loyal lord during a rebellion? Especially one who is a close friend of your heir?
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The wind blew in from the sea, tugging at my hair as I reclined in the grass overlooking the harbor. The pale red stone of the Red Keep was like a fire blazing behind me. And I could look down the hill and see the people bustling through packed streets, with merchants selling their wares.
On days like this it was hard to believe that there was a war being fought somewhere out there. I glanced to the Keep, using its facing to orient myself, and looked out to the North and West. Up there somewhere was my brother Rhaegar, fighting to end the rebellion.
I snorted and laid back in the grass. I was bored. Mother had kicked me out of the Keep, demanding that I "Go outside and breath in the fresh air. You have been cooped up in your room for far too long."
Annoying. The master of the Red Keep's library had found some old texts hidden in the dust of the deepest parts of the library that were from shortly after the time of Aegon the Conqueror.
Of course I was spending all my time in my room with them. They were full of stories about the ancient Targaryen Kings and Queens, and more importantly their dragons.
"Visys!" The high-pitched voice of Princess Rhaenys, who had just had her third nameday two weeks ago, called out to me. My niece still had some trouble with my name. "Visys!"
I rolled my head over. The longer blades of grass tickled my nose like little feathers.
"What do you-" My breath was knocked out of me as the little girl flopped down on my stomach. Coughing, I levered her off my stomach carefully.
"What was that for?"
"Mama said to go play with Visys."
"She did, did she?"
Rhaenys nodded rapidly. It reminded me of one of those bobble-head dolls, whose heads flopped all over the place when you tapped them.
"And what, pray tell do you want to do?"
"Tell another story."
More stories?" I chuckled. "What sort of story should I tell."
"Dragon stories."
"A dragon story. You have enjoyed those, haven't you? Okay."
Rhaenys giggled and twisted herself until her head rested on my stomach and she was lying perpendicular to me.
I thought for a few moments. "Our story begins over five thousand years ago. In those days, there were no Targaryens or Martells, no Seven Kingdoms, and no Iron Throne, but there were dragons. But these were not the dragons of our House, who were our companions and friends and the source of our power. In those days the Valyrians were nothing more than shepherds that dwelled on the Valyrian peninsula.
One day, these men discovered that dragons dwelt among them, high up in the mountains, nesting around the ring of volcanoes known as the Fourteen Fires. NO one knows how it was done, but the Valyrians knew magic, magic of Fire and Blood, and with it they were able to train dragons.
Dragons cannot be tamed, their wildness is great, their independence fierce. But with sorcery they were trained, and with dragons by their side, the Valyrians consolidated their hold on the peninsula. It was then that they established their great capital city of Valyria, and with it the Freehold.
Magic grew great, and the Houses of Valyria began to take shape. The dragonlords were the greatest of them, the Houses that could train dragons, and over the centuries, it was these Houses which gained the affinity for raising dragons."
Rhaenys was listening intently.
"This is why we say Targaryens have the Blood of the Dragon. The affinity for dragons is in our blood. It makes us special."
"There aren't any dragons," Rhaenys whispered.
"None living." I said. "There are still eggs. Though none have hatched in over a hundred years."
Rhaenys hummed, her gaze was lost in thought.
"Shall I continue?" At her nod I continued.
"In those days the greatest empire in the world was the Old Ghiscari Empire, which dominated most of Essos. They attacked the Freehold, hopping to stop its expansion, and thus began a series of wars..."
Some time later, as the shadow from a nearby tree had crawled across the land and onto us, I heard the sound of boots approach.
"M'lord, m'lady." It was a guardsman of the City Watch, his gold cloak trailing behind him. The end of it was splattered with mud. Behind him were a half dozen more Gold Cloaks. "Her Grace, the Queen has called for you both."
"Come on, Rhaenys," I said, gently lifting her head off me. We'll continue the story another time. DO you know what my mother has called us for?" I asked as I brushed the grass off my pants.
"No. I was only sent to bring you to her."
"Lead on then."
The Halls of the Red Keep were somehow sparser than usual. The servants spoke in hushed whispers in the corridors, and noble men and women had melancholy looks about them.
"Mother," I said as Rhaenys and I were ushered into her sitting room. "What is the matter?" She was crying, her face streaked in tears.
"Your brother," she choked out, throwing a piece of parchment at me. It was a thin strip, of the sort carried by the maesters' ravens.
I took it up slowly. Rhaenys tugged at me leg.
"Where's Mama?"
I placed a finger over her lips. "One moment." I unfurled the strip of parchment and read. I hardened my self and set the paper aside.
"He's dead." Rhaella wailed at my words. But there was nothing else to say. I knew this day was coming. I had long ago made it a point not to get too emotionally involved with my family.
I looked down at Rhaenys, who was looking at me in confusion. She didn't understand what was happening.
"Come, Rhaenys," I said, guiding her out of the room. I would see her to her room. Her mother was undoubtedly as distraught at the news as my own mother.
"Your mama will come see you later. For now, be patient."
She followed me in silence, until we reached her room. I paused as I turned to go. I didn't really want to confront either my mother or father at that moment so I turned back to my niece.
"How about I finish that story?"
Three
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282 AC - Entry Forty Seven
The word came today, by raven. The first major battle of the Rebellion has been fought at Gulltown, a victory for the rebels. Aerys flew into a great rage before his court when the news reached him.
282 AC - Entry Fifty
Another major battle, this time made up of three small ones at Summerhall. All victories for Baratheon, and he even turned his foes forces to his side.
Father had prisoners brought up from the Black Cells and burned alive in his presence. The ecstasy on his face as he watched them burn was among the most frightening things I believe I have ever borne witness to.
282 AC - Entry Fifty Four
The year is almost over. Another battle has taken place, a victory for those loyal to my father this time, if an indecisive one. Lord Tarly crushed Roberts forces in open battle, and the Tyrell forces laid siege to Storm's End.
Though my father's anger has abated for a time, it is only a matter of time before some new defeat sets him off. Already his temper is short with his Hand, Owen Merryweather.
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I was with my mother at the gates of the Red Keep when my sister-in-law arrived at the castle. Elia Martell had been away in Dorne since shortly before the start of the Rebellion, visiting her family there. She had been called back to the Keep by my father.
It wasn't a subtle ploy, having her remain in the Red Keep as a hostage to ensure the loyalty of the Dornish. But Aerys didn't do subtle anymore. Maybe he was a good king when he ascended the throne, but he isn't anymore.
Her entourage filed into the courtyard, a half dozen Dornish cavalry preceding her carriage, bearing the Martell and Targaryen coats of arms.
Elia was a pretty woman. Not a stunning beauty, but certainly above average, with olive skin and black eyes. She stepped out of her carriage, holding her heir Aegon, about nine or ten months of age now. Her daughter slipped down from the raised steps behind her, grasping her mother's skirt.
Rhaenys took after her mother, with lighter but still olive skin and her mother's brown hair. In fact, you might never have known she was a Targaryen, were it not for her eyes. In the light of the sun you could tell that they were deep violet, so dark that when the sun was not shining, they looked black.
"My Queen." Elia greeted Mother with a curtsey.
"Call me mother," Rhaella reminded her. Rhaella hated being so formally addressed by her own family.
"As you wish, mother."
"Princess," I said. "It is good to see you again, sister."
Elia looked down at me and smiled. "Viserys. You have grown these last months.
"Maybe. But not as much as your daughter." I extended my hand to the girl. "You have gotten taller Rhaenys."
Rhaenys curtseyed silently. It was perhaps a bit shaky, but she was not quite yet three.
"I am sure that your mother and my own have much to speak about. Would you like to come with me to the garden? I'd be happy to tell you a story."
She looked up at her mother. "Can I?"
Elia me in the eye for a moment. "Go. And Viserys, don't fill her head with nonsense."
Rhaenys took my hand and I led her towards the garden. "I won't," I called back as I stopped and leaned down so my head was next to Rhaenys' and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "So. What story would you like to hear?"
"Don't know."
"Hm. How about the story of your namesake? Rhaenys Targaryen, the Sister Queen of Aegon the Conqueror who flew into battle on the back of her dragon Meraxes, to conquer the Seven Kingdoms?"
"Mmmm..." Rhaenys' tongue poked out from between her lips as she thought. "'kay."
"Come on then, we need to find a good spot to sit, before some ladies of the court steal all the sunny spots."
Rhaenys little eyes went wide at that thought began to walk a little too quickly and tripped in her skirt. Luckily I still had hold of her hand, so she didn't fall far before I caught her.
"Not so fast."
"Find a spot!" Rhaenys insisted, tugging on my hand and pointing toward the garden.
"All right, let's go."
We found an open spot in the middle of the gardens, where trees sprung up around us, but the sun shone down through the leaves onto the field. Rhaenys plopped down across from me, and I began the tale.
"Rhaenys was born on Dragonstone, the ancestral home of our family since the Doom of Valyria. She was the younger sister of her brother Aegon and their older sister Visenya. In Targaryen tradition she was wed to her brother, along with her older sister, and the three of them would make all of Westeros tremble in their wake..."
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283 AC - Entry Three
Another battle, another defeat. It was at the Stoney Sept this time. Lord Jon Connington, the new Hand of the King, replacing Owen Merryweather, led the forces loyal to my father, and he came so very close to ending Robert himself, but the Stark and Tully forces arrived before Jon could find and end the traitor, and the battle was lost.
Though Lord Connington was able to retreat in good order, and was a close friend of my brother Rhaegar, Aerys was enraged at his failure. HE stripped Connington of his lands and titles and exiled him from the Seven Kingdoms.
My father's overreactions to failure have been growing worse as the rebellion drags on. Jon Connnington was both competent and loyal, and Aerys threw him away. Why would you throw away a loyal lord during a rebellion? Especially one who is a close friend of your heir?
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The wind blew in from the sea, tugging at my hair as I reclined in the grass overlooking the harbor. The pale red stone of the Red Keep was like a fire blazing behind me. And I could look down the hill and see the people bustling through packed streets, with merchants selling their wares.
On days like this it was hard to believe that there was a war being fought somewhere out there. I glanced to the Keep, using its facing to orient myself, and looked out to the North and West. Up there somewhere was my brother Rhaegar, fighting to end the rebellion.
I snorted and laid back in the grass. I was bored. Mother had kicked me out of the Keep, demanding that I "Go outside and breath in the fresh air. You have been cooped up in your room for far too long."
Annoying. The master of the Red Keep's library had found some old texts hidden in the dust of the deepest parts of the library that were from shortly after the time of Aegon the Conqueror.
Of course I was spending all my time in my room with them. They were full of stories about the ancient Targaryen Kings and Queens, and more importantly their dragons.
"Visys!" The high-pitched voice of Princess Rhaenys, who had just had her third nameday two weeks ago, called out to me. My niece still had some trouble with my name. "Visys!"
I rolled my head over. The longer blades of grass tickled my nose like little feathers.
"What do you-" My breath was knocked out of me as the little girl flopped down on my stomach. Coughing, I levered her off my stomach carefully.
"What was that for?"
"Mama said to go play with Visys."
"She did, did she?"
Rhaenys nodded rapidly. It reminded me of one of those bobble-head dolls, whose heads flopped all over the place when you tapped them.
"And what, pray tell do you want to do?"
"Tell another story."
More stories?" I chuckled. "What sort of story should I tell."
"Dragon stories."
"A dragon story. You have enjoyed those, haven't you? Okay."
Rhaenys giggled and twisted herself until her head rested on my stomach and she was lying perpendicular to me.
I thought for a few moments. "Our story begins over five thousand years ago. In those days, there were no Targaryens or Martells, no Seven Kingdoms, and no Iron Throne, but there were dragons. But these were not the dragons of our House, who were our companions and friends and the source of our power. In those days the Valyrians were nothing more than shepherds that dwelled on the Valyrian peninsula.
One day, these men discovered that dragons dwelt among them, high up in the mountains, nesting around the ring of volcanoes known as the Fourteen Fires. NO one knows how it was done, but the Valyrians knew magic, magic of Fire and Blood, and with it they were able to train dragons.
Dragons cannot be tamed, their wildness is great, their independence fierce. But with sorcery they were trained, and with dragons by their side, the Valyrians consolidated their hold on the peninsula. It was then that they established their great capital city of Valyria, and with it the Freehold.
Magic grew great, and the Houses of Valyria began to take shape. The dragonlords were the greatest of them, the Houses that could train dragons, and over the centuries, it was these Houses which gained the affinity for raising dragons."
Rhaenys was listening intently.
"This is why we say Targaryens have the Blood of the Dragon. The affinity for dragons is in our blood. It makes us special."
"There aren't any dragons," Rhaenys whispered.
"None living." I said. "There are still eggs. Though none have hatched in over a hundred years."
Rhaenys hummed, her gaze was lost in thought.
"Shall I continue?" At her nod I continued.
"In those days the greatest empire in the world was the Old Ghiscari Empire, which dominated most of Essos. They attacked the Freehold, hopping to stop its expansion, and thus began a series of wars..."
Some time later, as the shadow from a nearby tree had crawled across the land and onto us, I heard the sound of boots approach.
"M'lord, m'lady." It was a guardsman of the City Watch, his gold cloak trailing behind him. The end of it was splattered with mud. Behind him were a half dozen more Gold Cloaks. "Her Grace, the Queen has called for you both."
"Come on, Rhaenys," I said, gently lifting her head off me. We'll continue the story another time. DO you know what my mother has called us for?" I asked as I brushed the grass off my pants.
"No. I was only sent to bring you to her."
"Lead on then."
The Halls of the Red Keep were somehow sparser than usual. The servants spoke in hushed whispers in the corridors, and noble men and women had melancholy looks about them.
"Mother," I said as Rhaenys and I were ushered into her sitting room. "What is the matter?" She was crying, her face streaked in tears.
"Your brother," she choked out, throwing a piece of parchment at me. It was a thin strip, of the sort carried by the maesters' ravens.
I took it up slowly. Rhaenys tugged at me leg.
"Where's Mama?"
I placed a finger over her lips. "One moment." I unfurled the strip of parchment and read. I hardened my self and set the paper aside.
"He's dead." Rhaella wailed at my words. But there was nothing else to say. I knew this day was coming. I had long ago made it a point not to get too emotionally involved with my family.
I looked down at Rhaenys, who was looking at me in confusion. She didn't understand what was happening.
"Come, Rhaenys," I said, guiding her out of the room. I would see her to her room. Her mother was undoubtedly as distraught at the news as my own mother.
"Your mama will come see you later. For now, be patient."
She followed me in silence, until we reached her room. I paused as I turned to go. I didn't really want to confront either my mother or father at that moment so I turned back to my niece.
"How about I finish that story?"
