The Dragons Realm Chapter One
Port of Oldtown
2nd First Moon, 7999
Aegon Targaryen stood in silence upon the quay, the light pink streaks of the clear sky slowly giving way to the night, illuminating the Honeywine river as it flowed into the bay, enough light still visible to contrast the water of the river mixing with the dark waters farther off in the bay. It was a cool afternoon with a light breeze coming in from the bay, and though growing late, the port was still very busy.
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Fishmongers packed up their stalls, occasionally pleading with a sailor to take their stock at half price while traders from a dozen lands loaded and unloaded ships, speaking in many tongues, most in the common tongue of Westeros but some in languages foreign to the young Targaryen. Looking at the ships in the harbor closest to him he made out the distinctive vessel of the Summer Islanders, a hulking Swan ship, its great white sails fluttering in the gentle breeze, its eagle figurehead slowly rocking up and down with the current of the bay.
He heard a commotion behind him and turned to see a small group of sailors, obviously drunk stumbling along the bayfront.
Stormlanders He thought to himself, recognizing their accents before correcting himself. My people now.
It was a strange thought, for the past two years Aegon had been campaigning tirelessly and without reprieve against the various kingdoms of the continent of Westeros, one by one bringing them under the black and red banner of his house both by fire and fealty, six kingdoms, one king. Upon the arrival of his older sister and wife Visenya that conquest would end…for the time being.
The sobering truth in Aegon's mind was that the coming transition from warrior and conqueror to king and ruler was one that he was not entirely ready to make. He had proven he could kill and intimidate the various inhabitants of Westeros, force them into submission by threats of dragonfire, and when that failed, in pitched battle, but to rule them, to keep the peace in thousands of villages, castles, holdfasts, and farms, to keep the peace between millions of people of vastly different cultures would be an entirely different task all together.
Aegon was shaken from his thoughts by his sister-wife Rhaenys, who was standing beside him, her silver hair illuminated from the light of the tower in front of them.
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‘’It's beautiful isn't it.’’ She said softly, gazing up at the Hightower, an enormous lighthouse and castle a distance offshore, positioned upon the isle of battle.
The Hightower was the highest tower in the known world, its white marble extending some 700 feet into the sky, its large fire shining like a beacon through the darkening sky, proud for all to see. Despite its marble makeup, its base was made up of plain black stone blending into the dark water and night, which gave the white tower the appearance of floating up from the bay, unattached to land.
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‘’It has its charms, but on the back of a dragon it sits as small as any structure.’’ Aegon said, he did not share his sister's wonder as he had seen it before when he had been much younger with his older sister and wife Visenya.
‘’Do you think it's true?’’ Rhaenys asked, her purple eyes still fixed upwards.
‘’What is?’’ Aegon asked.
‘’When we visited the Citadel one of the Maesters said one of the theories as to the tower's creation was it was built by the Valyrian Freehold thousands of years ago, the black stone on the bottom is similar….maybe our ancestors built this’’ Rhaeneys said with a smirk, a common look she took on when she found something interesting.
Aegon shook his head ‘’Maesters say a lot of things…it doesn't make it true.’’
Rhaeneys raised her eyebrows ‘’Still……’’
‘’Dragonstone was the westernmost outpost of the Freehold, that's what our Father always said and I'll trust his words over a Maester any day, no matter the chain he wears.’’ Aegon said cynically, as was his manner.
‘’He'd be proud of you, Aegon.’’ Rhaeneys said, her eyes returning to the tower. Their father Aerion was a quiet and humble man but never lacked for tales passed down of the Freehold of old, he had died only 3 years prior clutching at his heart at a feast, an activity he was fond of.
‘’If he had sent me and Visenya to tour east instead of west, perhaps we'd be in Pentos right now.’’ Aegon said, while he enjoyed tales of the old freehold, his interest had always lain west of Dragonstone, an ambition his father encouraged by funding him and his older sister Visenya on tours of a small number of Westeros cities, Oldtown and the Arbor among them. Furthermore to celebrate Aegon's first victory, the burning of a Volantene fleet in aid of Pentos and Myr, their father had presented him with a gift, a carved fifty foot long table in the shape of Westeros, which Aegon had used to plan his invasion of the continent after his father had died.
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‘’I'm glad he didn't, it is a great achievement to be King of six of the seven kingdoms.’’Rhaeneys replied, the familiar smirk reappearing.
Aegon knew his sister well enough to to recognize when she was teasing him and gave out a small laugh ‘’You think we should have kept going….conquered Dorne?’’
Rhaenys shrugged ‘’We had the momentum, why stop.’’
‘’The Dragons are tired…..we've ridden them hard for two years….besides, we've overextended ourselves, we have enough trouble to deal with it as it is….I must consolidate my power before taking Dorne.’’ Aegon said.
Both his dragon Balerion and Rhaenys’s Meraxes were the two largest of the Targaryen's three dragons but he had sensed them growing tired as of late, so he had set them loose to go west of Oldtown into the Sunset sea, to hunt and rest on the many islands there, he had no fear that they wouldn't return, they always did, though before doing so he made sure to make a dramatic entrance in front of the high septon, lord Hightower and all his army, some 15,000 men.
His comments on internal trouble were also true, despite the burning of Harren the Black and his kin within Harrenhal, he had never officially secured the loyalty of the Iron Isles and chaos had erupted among the Ironborn warlords, with conflicting reports of both a powerful lord and drowned priest seeking to keep the Dragon Kings influence from spreading to their islands.
Meanwhile, the Three Sisters, a small island chain with an unsavory reputation in the Bite, a body of water between the North and the Vale of Arryn, famed for its smugglers, had risen up in revolt. The Sisters as they were known had been fought over for generations between the North and the Vale, never being independent until an opportunity presented itself. During the early months of Aegon's conquest he had sent his sister Visenya, her Dragon Vhagar, along with his Uncle Daemon Velaryon, his master of ships with the fleet of Dragonstone to seize the large port city of Gulltown in the Vale. In the ensuing naval battle, their uncle was killed and many of their ships burnt before Visenya and her dragon burnt the Arryn fleet along with their Braavosi mercenary ships. The loss of House Arryns fleet however meant the Sisters could rebel with impunity, a fracturing Aegon could not allow, for fear the rest of the lords of Westeros getting ideas.
In truth Aegon did not wish to be in Oldtown, pleasant as it was, he would have preferred to leave immediately for the Iron Islands following Oldtowns surrender, but he was to be coronated by the high septon, who had urged the Lord Hightower to surrender the city without bloodshed, in sight of many lords of Westeros. It had been 3 days since the Oldtown gates had opened to him and the Lord Hightower swore fealty to Aegon and his sister, mounted upon their dragons and surrendered the city, and yet he still waited on his sister Visenya to return from the Vale, with the young lord Arryn and his mother along with many other of the mountain lords, Visenya had sent a raven some time prior saying they had passed the ruins of Harrenhall but there had been no word since then.
The days in Oldtown had largely been restless as he waited for his older sister-wife to return. He and Rhaenys had toured most of the city, spending a day at the Citadel where Aegon had requested to see the black candles of Valyria, something the maesters had balked at but Aegon was not a man to be refused. That first night their tour continued, climbing to the top of the Hightower with the Lord Manfred Hightower of Oldtown, who had prepared their chambers at its highest level. They had walked through many of the cobbled streets to the thieves market and the ragpipers wynd, visited many of the small isles and the lord Hightowers son Ser Lyonel, had taken them on a tour of all the seven septs of the city and their gardens, the Starry Sept the grandest among them and the site of Aegon's coming coronation.
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Rhaenys had payed a visit to the local motherhouse of Silent Sisters and made a sizable donation in Aegon's name, to which he had snorted and said that if he was ever caught giving that much coin to the faith then a skinchanger from the east must have taken his place, to which Rhaenys had only smiled and proceeded to give a second gift in his name, more to annoy him than from any sort of piety, Aegon and his sisters were not particularly firm adherents to either their Valyrian faith or the religion of the majority of the Kingdoms, the faith of the seven.
‘’It really is beautiful’’ Rhaenys said, somewhat wistfully, her eyes trained on the hightower and the bay beyond, in which ships were both leaving and approaching the several miles of Oldtowns ports, the pink streaks gone from the sky leaving the ships as only shadows in the night.
Aegon knew his sister well enough to catch her meaning and shook his head ‘’I won't have it said that Aegon Targaryen, upon landing in Westeros, stole the seat of one of Westeros’s most ancient houses and took it for his own…..no Rhaenys we will build our own capitol.’’
Preparations on the new capitol were already underway, and it was these preparations that meant that Aegon's most trusted advisors, outside of his sisters, were not to be present at his coronation. Upon landing in Westeros on the blackwater rush from the bay, Aegon had his men hastily assemble a wooden fort upon the highest hill in the region, which came to be known as the Aegonfort. Orys Baratheon, Aegon's greatest friend, warrior, and rumored younger half brother, who had slain the Storm King Argilac in single combat had taken both the old Kings land and daughter for his own and sworn fealty to Aegon, during which Aegon had referred to Orys as ‘’his strong right hand’’ and put him in charge of making the new keep livable upon his return.
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In addition to this, Aegon sent his Velaryon cousins Aethen of Driftmark, the current master of ships and Corlys, sons of the late Daemon downriver on barges to transport the burnt swords from the Field of Fire and Harrenhall to the Aegonfort, in which he planned to make a throne out of them, a symbol of his victories over the huge armies of the Reach and Westerlands, and the fortress of Black Harren.
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‘’It would take us a long time to build a place such as this’’ Rhaenys said gloomily, she had been a proponent of Aegon taking Oldtown as his seat. ‘’Even Dragonstone would be preferable to ruling from a wooden fort.’’ she continued.
Aegon sensed her unhappiness ‘’I cannot claim to be the King of Westeros and rule over thousands of miles of country if I rule from an island not apart of the land….and you are right what we build in our lifetime may not match this….but our descendents shall build a capitol worthy of our dynasty.
Rhaenys was silent at this.
‘’Besides’’ Aegon continued, hoping to lighten the mood ‘’If I were to make my seat here we would be expected to attend the High Septons sermons at the Starry Sept…it took the man 7 days of prayer to come to the conclusion that Lord Hightower should surrender the city to us, I shudder to think how much time we would spend in that sept.’’
That earned a laugh out of Rhaenys, she could never stay mad at him for long.
Suddenly there was a change in the air, a sudden wind, accompanied by shouts of both wonder and fear by those still remaining in the streets, and many a drink was spilled at the harbor winesinks as the inhabitants of Oldtown looked into the night sky with wonder and terror.
Above the main gate of Oldtown, high in the air a dragon flew slowly over the city its wings creating gusts of air that could be felt from far away, its bronze scales shining in the moonlight, Aegon smiled when he saw the silver reflection of the dragon riders hair, judging by the Dragons bronze scales it could only be his sister and her dragon Vhagar, the smallest of the 3 Targaryen dragons but still a sight to behold. With Visenya arriving that also meant the host from the Vale had arrived for his coronation, the last host expected.
He shared a look with Rhaenys who took his hand, a smile on her face.
‘’And so it begins.’’ Aegon said quietly, watching the bronze dragon glide through the stars.