3rd Moon, 8023

Visenya's Chambers

It was a good memory. A warm sea breeze fell upon Visenya's face as the small galley approached the docks of Kings Landing, she had little Nyel in her arms, preparing to introduce the newest Targaryen to her family after nearly a year in Essos.

On the docks were Aegon and Rhaenys, their features blurry in the distance, but their faces were ones deeply ingrained in Visenyas mind.

The sight of her brother caused her sadness, a deep sadness that she could not explain even as he embraced her upon the docks.

She remembered every word said on those docks, every joke and story exchanged, they coursed through her mind, all at once, the words faint and distant yet still she knew them by heart…the day had been one of the best of her life.

Slowly the vision disappeared and faded to one much earlier, an event she hadn't thought about in years. The wind was heavy on her face as Vhagar raced through the clouds, her brother and Balerion to her side, the sea of Dragonstone an endless blue void beneath them.

They had been so young then, younger than 16, just months after they had both bonded with their dragons with flight.

They were racing from Dragonstone to Driftmark and back as they were like to do as youths, long before any thought of conquest was on their minds, they were both neck and neck with no clear winner, the rocky crags of Driftmark coming into sight.

Her brother suddenly left the security of the leather saddle on Balerions back and stood upon it, arms outstretched to the sides, balancing against the wind.

‘’You'll break your neck you damn fool.’’ Visenya shouted over the wind but her brother paid her no mind.

Suddenly he disappeared, Balerion diving below her.

Visenya, startled and worried, slowed down Vhagar, leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of Balerion below, and what she saw chilled her to her very core, her brother was not on his back.

She cried out her brother's name but with no response. She urged Vhagar downwards alongside Balerion, who did not seem to be overly alarmed.

Visenya saw a flash of movement and saw her brother climbing up from underneath Balerion, where he had been holding on to the underside of the saddle's leather straps, a grin on his face as he dangled hundreds of feet above the water.

Relief filled her mind, though it quickly gave way to anger and she was about to make it known very clearly to her brother what she thought of his stunt before without a word he got back in the saddle and urged Balerion forward, leaving Visenya and Vhagar behind in shock.

She gave a cry of protest and urged Vhagar to follow, eventually catching up to him, circling the island of Driftmark.

‘’Looks like I won.’’ He said with a laugh.

Visenya opened her mouth to utter some choice words about her younger brother's strategy but instead found herself laughing.

The two laughed almost uncontrollably, almost to the point of tears. Visenya wiped her eyes and looked to her brother once more.

He had changed, he looked older and stronger and had a more serious and graceful aura about him.

The deep feeling of sadness returned to her until at last she remembered, the terrible truth breaking free from her mind.

‘’You died Aegon.’’ Visenya said, her voice barely a whisper.

Her brother nodded at that sadly ‘’I did.’’

‘’Then why are you here Aegon…..ive…ive never dreamed you before, much as i've wanted to.’’ Visenya said, the background changing to their old chambers in the Hightower of Oldtown.

‘’Because I chose you……and it's time to go.’’ Aegon said sadly, gesturing out the window, where Balerion had appeared , her brother climbed out the window onto his back, holding out a hand to help her on.

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‘’The children need me.’’ Visenya said, though in her heart she longed to go with her brother.

‘’They are not children anymore….we raised them well, they are ready…..and maybe I need you as well.’’ Her brother said, with all of his usual charm.

Visenya had to laugh at that ‘’You remain a fool, if a royal one.’’ The exact same words she had spoken to him in this very chamber.

She took his hand and together they flew off into the distant waters of the sunset sea.

The next morning Visenya would be found dead in her chambers, a small smile on her face and one outstretched as if clasping something.

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14 Days Later

Courtyard of the Aegonfort

Vaemond stood by Nyel, in the same spot they had watched their son Aelyx burn.

Their mother was dressed splendidly in a black robe with a necklace of blood red rubies, her hands clasped around her valyrian steel sword Dark Sister, its slender blade flickering in the fire.

The courtyard was crowded, any lord that wished to attend the funeral had been invited, Vaemond had personally wanted only a small ceremony for his immediate family to grieve, but he knew his mother would have wanted a proper funeral befitting a queen.

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Many lords and ladies had taken the King up on his offer to attend, though the crowd was limited to those that could make the trip within the two weeks following the dowager queen's death. The courtyard was packed with lords of the Crownlands, while a huge party from Crackclaw Point had arrived. Vaemond saw Loren Lannister quietly conversing with the Lord of Duskendale, while Hubard Cressey had begun the feast early, complimenting the fare to all who cared to listen, a greasy chicken leg in his hand.

‘’I never…I never thought she would die.’’ Vaemond said quietly.

Nyel, who was holding baby Laena, looked at him with sympathy.

‘’I mean…I knew…of course I did but….I never really thought….I thought she would be at our sides for years……but I was wrong.’’ Vaemond said, and Nyel took his hand.

‘’Her lessons will always be with you.’’ Nyel said.

The courtyard was fairly quiet, various lords talked amongst themselves in small groups, but there was a notable lack of religious affair due to Matarys, who was wracked with grief, chasing off the septon when he tried to say a few words beside the pyre.

When the body was almost burned Vaemond approached slowly and took Dark Sister from the pyre, the leather hilt covering had burned off but the Valyrian Steel was otherwise unscathed, a hush went over the crowd when the King picked up the sword with an ungloved hand, which would have burned any other, but Vaemond was a Targaryen and it had little effect on him.

Ignoring the whispers from the crowd he offered the blade to Nyel.

‘’It was mothers sword…..i'm not half the warrior she was.’’ Nyel said hesitantly.

‘’Your mother would want her sword and memory to be carried by her descendents.’’ Their aunt Rhaenys, who had made the trip from Storms End said gently, her hands on the shoulders of the Orys Baratheons youngest daughter, who was her ward.

‘’You need it more than she does.’’ Vaemond said, offering the sword again and Nyel took it in one hand, baby Laena reaching for its sharp blade before Rhaenys quickly snatched her out of Nyels hands.

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Vaemond then turned to the Septon, who was sullenly standing in the crowd after being dismissed from the ceremony by Matarys.

‘’Septon…see that the silent sisters take my mothers ashes to the Sunset Sea and have them scattered off of fair isle…she told me once she wanted to rest with my father.’’ Vaemond commanded.

‘’But my lord…the ashes should be interred within the.’’ The man began but the King cut him off.

‘’My mothers wishes will be respected…see it done.’’ Vaemond commanded and the man nodded.

‘’Brother.’’ A voice rang out and Vaemond saw Matarys, eyes red behind him.

‘’I would take them myself…..she should be brought to rest by one that loved her not some mute fanatic.’’ Matarys said.

‘’Your Grace…this is most unusua.’’ The poor septon began, flustered but Vaemond ran a hand through his beard thoughtfully.

‘’You are right Matarys……I will send you with her ashes with an honor guard that befits a prince and a queen…you will go with 50 knights, 100 light cavalry and Ser Garmon Hightower of the Kingsguard.’’ Vaemond said, it would be good to give his younger brother a responsibility.

The following day, Matarys would set out through the lion gate with 150 men and Ser Garmon Hightower to spread his mothers ashes in the Sunset Sea.

Two Weeks Later

Village of Cahors, Cracklaw Barren

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Sherion looked at the crowd in front of him, several hundred men and women were in the muddy square, the smell of pine from the surrounding pine barrens mixing with the stench of sweat, mud and pig shit.

More will come The clawman thought as he studied the faces in the crowd, waiting for the last few people to make their way to the town center.

They were faces he knew, fisherman and tree-fellers, pig farmers and smiths, but most importantly they were clawmen…his kin.

‘’Whas all this about thn’n Sherrion.’’ Lothor the smith said and the crowd all murmured agreement.

‘’I have news kinsmen….news from the west….Visenya Targaryen is dead.’’ He said, causing a loud ruckus to go through the crowd, Visenya Targaryen had been well loved by the people of Cracklaw Point.

‘’I grew up on stories of when we Clawmen were a free people….proud and independent…and I ask you why that shouldn't be once more….it were the Dragon Queen we swore our loyalty…her and her beast….but she's dead and her dragon fled….the time is right kinsmen….we shall be free again.’’ Sherrion said.

‘’Them Targaryehns got more dragons ‘sides Visenyas….we can't fight no dragons.’’ Lothor continued.

‘’Balerion the Dread is 7 years dead, Vhagar is fled and Rhaenys is in storms end…the rest of their dragons are small.’’ Sherrion explained.

‘’What d’ye suggest we do then.’’ An old man in the crowd said.

‘’We rise up…we won't do Lord Hardy no trouble….he's a good lord, but we send out messengers calling for volunteers all across the point, then we march north and take a castle or two, once we show the people of the point we have a strength to us even more will flock to our banner….and I promise you this…the spoils of the claw lords t’the north will be ours…every man will have a share.’’ Sherrion proclaimed loudly.

‘’And if th’King comes?’’ Another asked.

‘’We use the pine bogs to our advantage, ambush them and their supply trains…he won't have the stomach for an extended war.’’ Sherrion explained.

It didn't take much more than that to convince them, glory and gold were sufficient motivators enough and soon hundreds of villagers from Cahors had flocked to Sherrions banners, and hundreds more came from every corner of the point, from Kegworth, Brizdon Port, Milluan and every village in between.

Soon Sherrions band had reached 3000 men, who marched north to the Whispers to attempt to take the seat of House Crabb.

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