Robert’s Second Chance: Dance of Dragons Rewritten

Larys

He was not yet certain if it was a good thing this conversation was being conducted privately.

Bringing Alyn of Hull (heavily shackled and under the supervision of Ser Arryck and Ser Rickard Thorne) into the vacant small council chamber could easily yield ill results. Otto and Alicent Hightower could dismiss Alyn's claims, or bury them so that they would never see the light of day…perhaps burying Alyn in the process so that he could not tell anyone else. Even Alyn's missing hand worked against them; a physical reminder that he had every valid reason to hate the crown after everything that was taken from him.

But it was a risk Larys had no choice but to take. The raven had just arrived with news from Casterly Rock that Rhaenyra was dead, and his window of opportunity was rapidly closing.

If he did not act now, Borros Baratheon would go down in the annals of history as a hero, and Larys's own name would fade into obscurity. The glory he spent twenty years cultivating washed away. 

"Tell me, Alyn of Hull," Otto began drily as he paced the room, eyeing the prisoner scathingly. "Why would I take your word over the word of the King's Master of War? The man responsible for the plans that lead to our victory over the false queen? The man who led our faction away from foley more times than I can recall?"

The man who comforted you when you saw Gwayne's body. A hurdle not easily overcome. Larys would not bring it up, but he would be a fool not to take it into consideration. Otto surely would never forget.

Larys inclined his head respectfully to Otto. "My Lord Hand," he began, "Borros Baratheon has been a valuable ally to the crown. I would not have brought the prisoner forth had his information not been consistent with what mine own network has uncovered over the course of these last few months."

Otto hesitated, the rage in his eyes cooling, but only marginally. Unlike Alyn, Larys had earned the trust of the Hand and the Dowager Queen. Never before had he brought them false information. Nor was he today…mostly.

"Borros Baratheon had a series of spies planted on Dragonstone," Alyn spoke, his voice deep and even, betraying no hint of how many times it had been rehearsed. "Planted there since shortly after the Princess…"

"Rhaenyra is no longer to be referred to as 'Princess'," Otto reminded him coldly. "She has been stripped of all royal titles by King Aegon after her assault on Oldtown."

Alyn clenched his jaw, and for a moment, Larys feared he would forget the role he had been assigned, but to his relief, the man quickly relaxed.

"Apologies, my Lord Hand," he amended. "My father told me that Lord Borros's spies confessed under torture that they were stationed on Dragonstone since Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor arrived there when the children were young. Castle servants. Daemon caught them and eventually fed them to his dragon, but not until the war was well underway. That is why Baela was with me on Driftmark, when…"

Alyn ground his jaw, unable to finish the rest.

Stepping in, Larys added, "I believe Lord Borros knew this war was to come from the moment King Aegon was born, and he wanted to remain informed."

A logical assumption. Whether it was true or not, Larys had no idea. What mattered was that it was convincing.

"There is no sin in maintaining a spy network," Otto said indulgently. "Particularly not when he used them to our advantage."

But Larys could see the tiny flex of the Hand's jaw. He misliked that Borros had made no mention of having a spy network.

"There is…" Alyn said hesitantly, "because he knew in advance that Rhaenyra and Daemon had contracted the assassins, Blood and Cheese."

Otto ceased his pacing, looking at Alyn sharply, while Alicent drew her hands in close to her chest, massaging one of her wrists, as if trying to soothe a phantom ache.

"That is preposterous," Otto spat. "If Borros knew the royal children were at risk, he would have informed us so we may tighten security!"

"It was Borros Baratheon who saved us from the assassins," Alicent agreed. "Killed one and wounded the other, left alive for questioning. We would be dead had it not been for him."

I must word this carefully…

"I believe that may have been his intent, my Queen," Larys said gravely. "If you recall, before the assassins came, Lord Borros assigned his own men to assist the castle guards with routine patrols. A curious thing to do; they were his own household guard and not responsible for the wellbeing of the rest of the castle. Yet he put them to the task anyway. Yet after the assassins made their attempt, Borros never again assigned his men to a similar task…likely because he knew they were no longer needed."

Alicent paled for a moment, and Larys saw the first flickers of doubt in her eyes…but then she promptly shook her head.

"Then why save us after?" she questioned.

"My Queen…forgive the assumption…" Larys said humbly. "But I believe the outcome was precisely what Lord Borros intended. He knew the assassins where coming. He positioned his men to alert him. Then, once they arrived, he swept in to play the hero. To claim the glory for the rescue…An act of treason, because he allowed the royal family to be endangered unnecessarily so that he might claim it."

Another spark. Another seed of doubt in Otto's eyes. But the Hand's expression quickly smoothed again, resuming his pacing.

"Borros Baratheon is currently serving Aegon in combat," Otto argued. "He has fought with his own hands in the Battle of the Crag. An act he surely would not have undertaken if he merely wished to play at being a hero."

And now I draw him further into my web.

"Yes, my Lord Hand, and I would agree," Larys said. "Were it not for the dragonseed, Aethan."

Alicent frowned. "Yet another man who has served us loyally," she defended. "The Cannibal has killed now three enemy dragons and incapacitated a fourth. Not to mention the enemy soldiers he has burned. Our position would be far worse had it not been for Aethan."

"Indeed, your grace," Larys agreed, nodding his head. "And none is more relieved than I that the boy proved himself a loyal ally to the crown. But I believe there may have been some dishonesty in how he came into our service."

A statement that could not merely be ignored, not when Aethan rode the realm's second largest and most powerful dragon. As expected, Otto narrowed his eyes.

"What dishonesty?"

"My network," Larys continued, "attempted to investigate Aethan's history, and we found some details that do not match the story he presented to our King. I have found witnesses who claim that Aethan lived his entire life in Fleabottom, and that he was still in Fleabottom after Corlys Velaryon enacted his blockade."

Here, Alyn assisted him again. "No commercial travel was possible when the blockade was enacted," he confirmed. "The only way this Aethan could have left King's Landing was if he had help from someone powerful enough to smuggle him out of the city discreetly."

"Someone who immediately offered up his own daughter and a castle as a reward before King Aegon had a chance to offer one of his own," Larys added. "Almost as though the deal were struck in advance."

Otto said nothing, his face belying no hint of what it is he might have felt, but Alicent's brow furrowed, and she shook her head wordlessly for several long seconds.

"Aethan…but he serves us…he serves us loyally…"

Larys cleared his throat. "My Queen, I do not believe that Lord Borros intended to harm the royal family or our faction at any point," he conceded. "He had a thousand opportunities for sabotage, and he never took advantage. However, his recklessness cannot be ignored. If my sources are correct, he would have met Aethan very shortly before sending him to claim a dragon. A perfect stranger, Daemon's own son, who easily could have betrayed us to serve the Blacks. Who might have resulted in a victory for the Blacks if the Cannibal fought for their side instead of ours. Just as his recklessness with the assassins cannot be ignored. Another half second and he would have been too late."

And such recklessness without permission from the King may just be enough to count as treason.

Otto leaned back, resting his hand against the council table…and then ordered Alyn to be taken back to his cell. Only once he was gone did he speak again.

"I agree the allegations are…troubling," Otto admitted. "But Borros Baratheon is not a reckless or impulsive man. Through every step of this war, he has been checking the King's fieriest impulses. He prevented him from recklessly attacking after the assassins struck. He prevented him from blindly taking revenge after my son was killed. He prevented him from flying off to certain death in the skies above Oldtown. Borros always cautions strategic maneuvers. Strategic maneuvers that have led to our victory. To make such a dangerous and risky choice without consulting the King or the Council…"

"The very least we owe him is the courtesy of explaining his side of the story," Alicent agreed. "To perhaps shed some light on these allegations. Especially when your theories were confirmed by an enemy of the crown, Lord Larys."

An interrogation Borros will not know is coming, Larys thought, concealing his smile as he bowed his head submissively. And it may be weeks before he returns to the capital. Weeks I have to gather more knives to plunge into his heart.

Aemond

Thank the gods the Lannisters take pride in being good hosts, Aemond thought with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Aegon's waist, snuggling in closer to spoon him from behind, mindful of his brother's injured leg.

When Helaena arrived at Casterly Rock two days prior, the Lannisters had treated her with all the respect due a Queen. She'd been given Casterly Rock's finest suite: an apartment with three bedchambers and a balcony overlooking the sea. When he and Aegon arrived last night, the King informed their hosts that he would prefer to share Helaena's bedchamber rather than being given a suite of his own. And, given his injury and lack of personal household guards, no one blinked an eye when Aegon further explained that he wished for Aemond to stay in one of the suite's other bedchambers. 

I should return to my own bedchamber, Aemond thought sadly as the first rays of morning light began to stream through the window. It was time to re-don his nightclothes and slip out of Aegon and Helaena's bed and back into his own before the servants arrived. Alas, he had no desire to move.

Last night had been a reunion worthy of their time apart. Aegon's injured calf meant that he could not move the way he wished to, but his brother was nothing if not creative when the three of them shared a bed. All three had claimed their satisfaction several times over, and when Aemond fell into a deep and sated sleep, he had done so with a smile on his face.

Now, Aemond had awoken to equal bliss. Aegon was warm and soft in his arms, still smelling of the lavender imported soap he'd bathed with last night. And even from his position behind Aegon, he could see Helaena adorably wriggling her nose while she slept, occasionally letting out the softest noise that sounded like a kitten purring more than a proper snore.

And my babe slumbers in her belly, he thought, heart swelling with love. Last night, when Helaena told them that she was with child, Aemond had been unable to hold back his tears. He had no idea of what was to come in his future. In a few months (surely no longer than a year), he would be a married man. Even with Abby's permission, he was uncertain if it would be fair to share his siblings' bed after he said his vows.

But no matter what the future brought, he would always have this. A babe. His babe. A child conceived of the love he shared with Aegon and Helaena. Tying him to them forevermore.

And now that the last Black dragon has perished, our babe will be born in a realm at peace.

Or rather, a realm that would soon be at peace. Something to be decided in the summit that would convene after they'd eaten a morning meal. The thought made him tense, but the very instant his body went rigid…

"Aemond, it's too early to think," Aegon said groggily, still more than half asleep.

He laughed. "I didn't say anything!"

"You needn't," Aegon argued. "I know you."

You do indeed.

Their soft exchange of words roused Helaena from her slumber, and she blinked her eyes open, rolling over onto her side to face her brothers with a smile of her own.

"I've missed both of you," she said to them dreamily, still blinking the sleep from her eyes. "I pray neither of you will leave me again."

Aemond could feel Aegon's soft contented hum vibrating through his torso.

"Soon this will all be a memory," Aegon promised her. Gently taking one of her hands, Aegon brought it to his lips to kiss. "I merely pray you will never need to ride Dreamfyre into combat again. But I am proud of you. More proud than I can put into words. My sweet, beautiful queen protected our boy."

Our Prince. Our future King…though I pray I will be dead by the time he takes the throne. Aemond had no desire to outlive his brother.

She smiled back at him, then reached her arm around Aegon to lovingly stroke Aemond's shoulder.

"Our boy will be flying home with us on Shrykos when the time comes," she said happily. "We may have to make several stops for her to rest along the way, but he's been flying with her every day. She's grown half a size, and she is far stronger than she was when last we saw her."

Sweet little Shrykos. Flying to Casterly Rock might have been adorable were he not so sad to separate Jaehaerys from his parents. Shrykos was small enough to hitch a ride on Vhagar's flank whenever she grew tired on their journey. His dragon was a grouchy old bitch, but she did little more than grumble indulgently when the hatchling clung to her.

But now she can fly on her own.

"And we will stop at Highgarden to retrieve Jaehaera on our way," Aemond added, enjoying the way Helaena brightened at the mention of her daughter's name. "She will marry into House Tyrell, so she will have to return one day, but not until she's of age. She'll have a great many years to spend in the Red Keep."

"And Maelor as well," Aegon agreed. "I shall fly North to White Harbor to retrieve him myself once all is said and done. I'm eager to meet our boy's new hatchling." Chuckling, Aegon rubbed his hand along Helaena's lower belly. "Our little princess-to-be will be in need of her own egg as well."

Helaena rolled her eyes. "We do not yet know that it's a girl, Aegon," she teased. "Even I do not yet know that it is a girl."

"She is a girl," Aegon said confidently, as though the matter was decided.

Laughing, Helaena indulged him. "Very well, your grace. She is a girl."

Tensing, her laughter faded, and she tapped Aemond on the shoulder.

"To your own chamber, brother," she said. "Best be quick about it; the servants are coming."

Seven Hells. He hastily leapt out of bed, threw his borrowed night shirt back on, and ran for his chamber, making it inside just as he heard the door to the suite itself begin to open.

There was an indignity about the whole thing, a Prince needing to hide from the judgmental eyes of servants assigned to tend to their needs, but so was his lot when he shared the bed of the King and Queen.

And he supposed he was happy to see the servant after she knocked at his door and waited for permission to enter. She'd come bearing the clothes that the Lannisters had gifted him for today's summit, likely sewing through the night to tailor them to his frame. His own clothing had been more than a bit ripe after being away at war so long, and the servants had taken them away to be laundered. Nonetheless, he'd likely be burning them when he got back to the Red Keep. He'd grown quite sick of them.

Once he was dressed, he left his bedchamber and re-joined his siblings in the suite's main living area, where Helaena was allowing Aegon to hold her arm for support while he lowered himself into a chair. He could walk, but his injury was still fresh and it was painful unless he used a cane for support…which he refused to do before the realm was officially at peace.

I will have to insist he holds my arm while we walk to the Lannister's war room, Aemond decided. At least during the stretches where no one can see us.  It was not a far walk, but he wanted his brother to feel as little pain as possible. 

Helaena helped him get settled, then turned to the nursemaid and asked her to bring Jaehaerys to her so he may join them for their meal before the summit. Once she was gone, Helaena turned to them, speaking softly in High Valyrian.

"There is something I neglected to mention last night, as I was a bit swept up in the moment of seeing my brothers again," she said. Reaching over to Aegon, she gently brushed her fingers along the hilt of the dagger he wore at his waist.

Aegon frowned, drawing it from its sheath. "You wish to start carrying a blade?" he asked her confusedly. "I can have one made for you that's more appropriate."

"No," she corrected him gently. "It is something Rhaenyra said to me before…" Her eyes shuttered. "Before," she finished simply.

Aemond's heart ached for her. You don't have a cruel bone in your body, he thought. You don't deserve to be haunted by what you had to do to protect Jaehaerys. We should have been the ones to fight that battle while you remained safe.

Aegon cocked his head. "Something about my dagger?" he asked, handing it to her so she could study it. "I know it's an heirloom. Valyrian steel. But beyond that…" He shrugged. "I assumed it was just a weapon that father was rather fond of."

Aemond frowned, leaning forward in his chair. "He was more than fond of it, Aegon," Aemond corrected. "Do you ever recall seeing father without it? Even during meals? It's a bit large and cumbersome to be a conventional dagger. Something I would typically expect to be ceremonial."

Aegon's brow furrowed, and he watched Helaena study it. "What exactly did Rhaenyra say?"

"That father shared a secret with her," she said, gaze fixed on the blade. "She called it the Song of Ice and Fire. A family secret, and…" She bit her lip, lowering the blade. "And…I Dreamt of our future…"

Gently reaching over, Aemond took the dagger from Helaena's hand to examine it himself. "What sort of Dream?"

She was unable to tell them much. All she'd seen was a flash. But what she could tell them made Aemond's gut squirm.

"This must be more than a hundred years in the future," she finished. "Sunfyre was nearly the size of Vhagar, and it took her nearly two hundred years to grow that large. The young King, our descendant, was raining fire down over a landscape of ice. And the creatures he was burning…" She trembled, shaking her head, as if it would make her forget. "They looked human…somewhat. It was as though they emerged from the ice itself."

It pleased Aemond to see that his brother was listening to Helaena with rapt attention. Her gift was no longer something that either of them could deny. Not when it was her Dreams that saved them, now several times over.

"And Rhaenyra took this family secret with her to the Seven Hells," Aegon sighed, rubbing his temple. "One last way for her to hurt us, I suppose."

Or perhaps not…

Aemond frowned as the morning's light reflected off the dagger's blade. Something was…off. It did not reflect the light the same way his own sword did during his training sessions. It was as though the blade were flawed somehow. But it was Valyrian steel…

"Aegon," Aemond said, handing the dagger back to him. "Try to catch the sunlight with the blade, see how it reflects. I might be mis-seeing it because of my missing eye."

Taking it, Aegon complied, twisting around in his chair until the sunlight caught the blade, the light reflecting onto the wall behind him. And the minute Aemond saw his brother's face, he knew he saw it too.

"The blade is perfectly smooth when looked at on its own," Aegon confirmed. "But when the light hits it…" He shook his head, lowering it. "Were this any other dagger, I would say there was a flaw in the metal from when it was smithed."

"But Valyrian steel has no flaws," Aemond finished ominously. "There is something off about this dagger. A trick to the Valyrian steel, perhaps. It's said to have magic woven into the metal. We need to access father's private library and see the books from Old Valyria. Mayhaps the library at Dragonstone as well. Now that the island is ours once again."

Aegon studied the blade for a moment longer, then nodded before sheathing it.

"Indeed," he agreed. "But as you said, Dragonstone is ours once again, and we can visit the library at our leisure. And Helaena, whatever it is that your Dream showed you, it will not occur for at least a hundred years. We have time to solve this mystery. Now, our focus must be on attending this summit and bringing the realm to peace."

Helaena nodded, reaching for her water goblet to take a drink. "Will you come and join Jaehaerys and I after the summit has concluded?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "We will both join our son after the summit, which we will attend as King and Queen," he corrected, smiling as Helaena's eyes widened.

"You…" She paused. "You would have me take a seat at your war summit?"

"You are my Queen," Aegon said simply. "One of our dragon riders. The hero who saved the Prince and the Realm from Rhaenyra. I would have you sit by my side." Reaching over, Aegon rubbed his hand along Aemond's arm. "And I would have you at my other." 

The three headed dragon united, Aemond thought proudly as the servants brought both the food trays and Jaehaerys. As Westeros itself is once again united.

Robert

I suppose I can understand Lannister arrogance, Robert conceded as he looked out the window of Casterly Rock's war room, a richly decorated chamber dripping with expensive, polished wood and gold trimmings. From their window atop the Rock, Robert had a clear view of the Sunset Sea, the castle looming over the horizon as if it itself were a King looming over its subjects.

Growing up in this place is what gave Cersei the impression that her farts smell of perfume.

For now, though, Robert need focus on the task at hand.

Two days had passed since Queen Helaena defeated Rhaenyra in dragon combat, sentencing her sister to death by dragonfire. And within those two days, the leaders of Aegon's forces had assembled at Casterly Rock for what would likely be their final war summit. Some had arrived as passengers on dragonback, others by ship, and now they all gathered together around the massive, gleaming table, awaiting the King and his siblings to enter the room.

We best let the King take his time, Robert reasoned with a hearty chuckle. He hasn't seen the Queen in some time, and I know he was hoping to put a new prince or princess in her belly. No need to rush their 'reunion'.

Instead, he took a moment to study the people sitting around the table. Elmo Tully, joining him from the Crag, representing the Riverlands. Lord Westerling had joined them. Jason Lannister representing the West, his wife Johanna by his side. A man introduced to him as the new Lord Farman. Once a distant cousin to the main branch of the family, he was now its leader. Not that there was much to lead. Lord Mallister, who arrived by ship. Ormund Hightower, with Prince Daeron by his side. One of the Redwynes from the Arbor. A few other Lords Robert couldn't be bothered to dwell on. Aethan, rubbing at his healing arm and looking more than a bit uncomfortable. But he did relax somewhat when Daeron offered him an encouraging smile.

But Robert was most interested in Cregan Stark, who'd ridden with Aemond on Vhagar to represent the North…along with Alysanne Blackwood, representing her brother. Perhaps he was being a bit hopeful about it, but Robert noticed Aly and Cregan exchanging the occasional glance, and more than once, he could have sworn he saw the barest hint of a smile on Cregan's face.

My friend may yet be born, Robert thought happily…for a moment anyway. The door to the war room opened, and everyone rose to their feet as the servant gave his announcement.

"Aegon Targaryen, Second of His name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. His wife, Queen Helaena Targaryen, and their brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Robert smiled warmly as he watched the trio enter the room, Aegon walking a mere half step ahead while his Queen and his brother followed in his wake. The Lannisters had clearly gifted him clothing, because Aegon ordinarily never favored red fabric. It didn't suit him half so well as his preferred green and gold motif, but the clothing looked regal nonetheless, pairing well with the rubies of his crown. They'd even given him a heavy cape and a golden chain to hold it in place. Well suited for a King preparing to lead a war summit.

I never would have guessed he took an arrow to the calf, Robert thought as he watched Aegon walk. He wasn't limping nor wincing, swallowing whatever pain he felt. The missing ear was only noticeable when Robert looked closely and saw that it was not peeking through his hair, like the other one was. He could just barely see some evidence of healing red burns along his jaw, but they would surely fade in time, the resulting scars more discreet.

Be grateful for it. You went through a living hell in the original timeline.

Aegon took his seat at the head of the table and gestured for the rest of the room to sit as well, with Helaena and Aemond sitting in the chairs closest to him. Once everyone was settled, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

"By now, you have all heard the news that Rhaenyra Targaryen, whom I have stripped of her title as princess, is dead, as is her dragon."

A statement, not a question, and aside from a few nods of assent, no one responded.

"All the great Houses of Westeros have sworn fealty to the Iron Throne, including Houses that once pledged for Rhaenyra. Those few Houses who fought in her service have offered up hostages to ensure their continued good behavior. We are no longer a realm at war…save for one lingering fly in the ointment."

Daeron shifted forward slightly, waiting for permission from Aegon before speaking.

"Surely you mean two flies, your grace?" Daeron asked respectfully. "The Iron Born and our uncle?"

Aegon nodded regally. "Daemon will be made to answer for his crimes," he agreed. "But he is one man, a lone outlaw with no dragon, no allies, and nowhere to go. An aging warrior who is not half as strong or as swift as he once was. He will be dealt with swiftly, and I will not rest until he has been, but he is not our greatest priority at the moment."

Robert bit his tongue. Don't underestimate him, pup. If the legends are to be believed, he was still strong and swift enough to jump from Caraxes' back onto Vhagar's and put a sword through Aemond's eye…

But of course, that fate would now never happen. Aemond sat next to Aegon in similar red attire, sleek and deadly, as though he were a dragon himself. Far more dignified than when Robert last saw him at the Crag, when they got the news that Aegon was injured in battle. Aemond scarcely remembered his princely manners enough to say goodbye before he tore out of the castle and ran to Vhagar as fast as his legs would carry him.

You're lucky to have him, Aegon. To have brothers so fiercely loyal. And unlike in the original timeline, you will not have to construct a statue of gold to comfort yourself whilst you mourn their loss.

"The Iron Born, however, are another matter entirely," Aegon continued. "Which is why I have asked each of you here to advise me."

Jason Lannister perked up, leaning forward slightly and waiting for Aegon to recognize him and give him permission to speak.

"Surely the time has come to deal with them once and for all, your grace?" Jason asked.

"Indeed," Aegon agreed. "But the question, Lord Jason, is what our goal should be in 'dealing with them'."

Slowly, Aegon met the gaze of every man and woman in the room, Robert included.

"Growing up in King's Landing under the protection of dragons and the Velaryon fleet, I have no experience with the Iron Born myself. But I understand that even before they sided with Rhaenyra, they have caused harm to our people, be it through raids or other atrocities. And likely many, if not all of you, have been affected."

More nods now, some of them accompanied by balled fists, clenched jaws, or other signs of anger.

"And that is why I seek your advice," Aegon continued. "I will not give mine own opinion on the matter until I have heard yours, as to ensure you speak your minds freely. All opinions are welcomed and respected. So I ask, if the decision was yours to make, what would you have me do with the Iron Born and why?"

Robert forced himself not to smile; it would be grossly inappropriate, given they were discussing the potentially grim fate of several Houses. But it was hard to keep his face impassive as he gazed upon the young King. The King whose throne he himself had secured. A young man of two-and-twenty, a young man who was never groomed to take the Iron Throne, was yet again proving himself a good ruler.

The potential was always there, before his son's brutal murder and the botched war efforts blackened his heart. Before his fiery temper burned too hot with no one there to keep him from acting rashly.

How could Robert not be proud?

Jason Lannister, the one undoubtedly most familiar with the Iron Born, spoke the instant his King gave the Lords permission to speak freely.

"Your grace, we may never again have such an opportunity," he said. "With all the great powers of the realm assembled on the Western Coast, we have them in our clutches for full eradication."

Like Cersei wanted me to do, Robert remembered. At the time, he attributed her barb to her cruelty and her desire to be like her father, but now he wondered if the matter had been more complex. By the time she was born, her House would have been fending off Iron Born raiders for centuries.

Centuries of those bloodthirsty pirates operating with far too much immunity. But now, once again, Robert was in a position to help see that changed. Or perhaps he already had. In the original timeline, the Iron Born had been allowed to operate unchecked because of the Dance, with only Johanna Lannister to oppose them. No longer.

"Full eradication seems just. They very nearly succeeded in doing the same to my House," the new Lord Farman agreed, earning him a grim nod of support from Jason.

"And I fear full eradication may be our only option for lasting peace," Lord Mallister agreed. "Seagard, along with Casterly Rock and Fair Isle, has been defending the realm from the Greyjoys since long before my father was born. Being brought under the yoke of your ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, was insufficient motivation for them to change their ways. Had the Conqueror burned them with Balerion when we had the chance…"

He stopped himself before he could continue too far down that path, not wanting to criticize the King's ancestor, even if he had been given permission to speak freely.

"I fear nothing will serve as sufficient motivation for them to change their ways," Jason supported. "Their entire way of life is that of piracy. Raiding, reaving, raping, and they have no motivation to change."

Elmo Tully shifted in his seat, hesitated, then slowly nodded in agreement with the Lannister lord.

"Distasteful as though it might be, your grace, I must agree," he said. "It is not only the Westerlands who have suffered losses at the hands of the Iron Born. Their actions have affected the Riverlands as well."

"And the North," Cregan agreed. "The Iron Islands give them easy access to Northern shores, and the smaller villages are ill-equipped to fend them off." After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Though I must point out the inherent dishonor in killing off an entire island chain's worth of people. Full eradication means the death of innocent women and children as well."

Jason shifted. "Grim, yes, but those children will not remain children forever, Lord Stark. They will grow into men. Men who will undoubtedly be bitter and vengeful, and they may become even greater a problem then their fathers before them."

"Mayhaps a half measure would offer a happy medium?" Lord Westerling suggested. "Kill off the men. Burn their ships, save for a few small fishing vessels. Then arrange for the highborn children to be wed to those from the mainland?"

"Killing off their men poses a different problem," Aly said, ignoring the scornful looks that a few of the men gave to her for daring to speak. "The Iron Islands are named as such for a reason. Much of the realm's ore is mined from the island chain. Without Iron Born miners, we run the risk of an iron shortage when we have just finished fighting a war."

Jason tapped his chin. "Those of us on the Western coast could share the duty of sending our own miners into the island chain to collect what we need…"

"That would only work if we fully eradicated the Iron Born," Aly countered. "Otherwise, we would be stealing from those who still lived there. And other squabbles will inevitably result."

Otto Hightower should be the one here to advise you, not your Master of War, Robert thought. He had little advice to offer. He could certainly share everything he'd learned from his own war against the Iron Born and help lead Aegon to victory (not that he'd likely need the help with so many dragons at his disposal), but as for the politics behind deciding whether or not to kill them? 

However, it seemed Otto might not be necessary…

Almost timidly, Helaena reached over and rested her hand on Aegon's forearm, giving him a look that clearly said she wished to speak, but she was nervous to do so in a room full of Lords. Robert was grateful to see the protective glint in Aegon's eyes as he motioned for the room to be silent so that Helaena could speak.

I'll support you in that, your grace. In the original timeline, Helaena's peacekeeping efforts might have eventually born fruit if she'd been listened to…Or, mayhaps, if her Dreams had been heeded.

"Have we considered that the problem may not be that the Iron Born are inherently evil?" Helaena asked, causing some in the room to shift awkwardly. "I've read about the Iron Islands. From what I understand, they have no fertile soil, no means to grow their own food save for what they can fish from the sea, the conditions in the iron mines are deplorable…They do not even have a maester stationed at Pyke."

At this, Casterly Rock's maester nodded. "All true, my Queen."

Helaena trembled slightly, still looking fearful, until Aegon gave her a reassuring nod.

You are the rider of Dreamfyre and the hero who saved your child from Rhaenyra. You have no need to fear any man in this room.

And almost as if she'd heard his thoughts, Helaena's spine straightened, her face smoothing.

"I do not condone their choices to steal or harm others," she continued. "But rather than eradicating the Iron Born, the better solution might be to help them create a more productive future. We can send architects and builders to the iron mines to make them safer, like the gold mines here at Casterly Rock. We can help them establish a trade network so that they can sell their ore to the mainland. It will serve to our mutual benefit. The Seven Kingdoms will gain a far steadier supply of iron and other ores, and they will lead a more comfortable existence so that they no longer need to raid for their own survival."

Jason Lannister started to roll his eyes…until he realized that Aegon, Aemond, and Robert all saw him doing it. Then he straightened, smiling kindly and saying in a respectful tone, "Our Queen has a kind and gentle heart…"

"But unfortunately, my Queen, the Iron Born do not," the new Lord Farman finished. His words softened Aegon and Aemond's expressions, and both the King and the Prince relaxed into their seats.

"That is true, Lord Farman," Aethan agreed a bit nervously, speaking up for the first time. His status as a dragon rider earned him his seat at the summit, but his nervousness was understandable. Aethan was not an educated man. He never learned how to read or write. He knew nothing of politics. He was not in a position to advise anyone of anything, let alone the King of Westeros on an important political matter.

But he is the rider of the second largest dragon in the world…and possibly the most powerful. And for that alone, when he spoke, the men and women at the table listened. A fact that Aethan did not miss.

"But a son is not guilty of his father's sins," Aethan said, more confidently now. "Nor can we assume that a son will defend his father's sins. No more than I would ever defend Daemon's; I wish him dead as much as anyone else at this table. Eradicating the Iron Born completely means that we punish the innocent along with the guilty. Innocents who are worthy of our protection."

Aegon waited patiently for Aethan to finish speaking, then gave him an encouraging nod. "My cousin's case does indicate that we may be doing ourselves a great disservice in a full eradication of the Iron Islands," he agreed. "And my Queen brings up an excellent point as well. I intend for my reign to be one of peace and prosperity…peace and prosperity for all those under my protection."

Just as a few lords began to wince (and a few more grow angry), Aegon raised his hand.

"You will all get your pound of Greyjoy flesh, my lords. Several times over, in fact. I agree that we cannot offer amnesty to any Iron Born sailor who took up arms against us," he clarified. "Dalton Greyjoy will die, as will all sailors in his navy. However, the smallfolk of the Iron Islands will be left unharmed. And if the information I received is correct, there were a few vassal Houses within the Iron Islands who remained neutral in the conflict and did not serve my sister."

Jason Lannister hesitated for a long moment before relenting. "That is true, your grace. I can confidently say that Houses Tawney, Wynch, and Merlyn did not send their sailors to serve Lord Greyjoy. They are amongst the weaker Houses in the Iron Islands and had no men or ships to spare. The stronger houses, like Harlaw and Goodbrother, were participants."

Aegon nodded. "If Houses Tawney, Wynch, and Merlyn kneel and swear obeisance to the Iron Throne, I see no reason why they need be eradicated over a conflict in which they did not participate."

For a moment, the table fell silent, until Aly, ever bold, leaned forward.

"To clarify, your grace, you mean to kill every Iron Born who participated in the conflict, but all small folk and non-participating Houses will be spared?" When Aegon nodded, she continued, "And of the women and children from Houses who did participate?"

Aegon locked eyes with Helaena, then nodded. "The women, children, and any non-participating men will be conditionally spared," he agreed. "Given the chance to kneel, swear fealty, and re-establish the Iron Islands with our guidance. However, I mean to keep the Iron Islands under heavier regulation than the Kings who came before me. If this chance is squandered and they fall back into the patterns of their forebearers, then they too will be met with Fire and Blood." 

Robert studied the faces of the men and women at the table. Some clearly thought it still wasn't enough, likely believing they would sleep better with the Iron Born burned away entirely.

Then it is time for me to support my King.

Robert smiled, laughed, and slapped the table heartily, making the man next to him jump. "Well then, lets show the fucking squids what happens when they plot against our King!" he declared. "The sea will run red with Kraken blood!"

His words had the desired effect. Everyone blinked, and those who thought Aegon's declaration too lenient suddenly began to realize that the King had just declared that hundreds, mayhaps thousands, of Iron Born sailors were condemned to die. Far from lenient. It would be amongst the greatest bloodbaths the realm had seen since the Conqueror united the Seven Kingdoms.

Not a full eradication, but a feast for the sharks nonetheless.  

Smiling, Aemond spoke for the first time. "Indeed, Lord Borros," he agreed. "Without Rhaenyra or Daemon to come to their aid, we can recall Vermithor from Harrenhal as well. And the Iron Born shall face the might of five war dragons and our combined naval fleets.

I suppose it makes sense you'd want Helaena to sit out…Robert wouldn't lie, he did as well. Dreamfyre may be large and powerful, but there was no need to risk her unnecessarily. Best to hold one dragon in reserve anyway, just in case the Iron Born had the bright idea to attack the Rock.

"And they'll find no safe quarter on land either," Cregan Stark agreed. "Our men are armed and ready."

"As our ours," echoed Lords Tully, Westerling, and a handful of others.

Jason Lannister waved his hand, and a servant brought out a massive map of the Western Coast, stretching it across the war room's table.

"Lord Borros," Aegon said, eyes flashing in determination. "How would my Master of War advise we position our men?"  

Daeron

I'm pleased they decided to get on with it today, he thought as he donned his armor, sharing the room with Aegon and Aemond. He and his two brothers would be flying off to corral the Iron Born into their trap as soon as Vermithor arrived. Aethan and Helaena would remain behind on Casterly Rock, their dragons held in reserve.

Aemond was shooting half-glares at Aegon the entire time they were donning their armor, but Aegon very pointedly was looking elsewhere. He knew Aemond wished for him to stay behind, but the King was adamant about seeing it through to the end himself. A sentiment that had been wholeheartedly approved by Cregan Stark.

He who passes the sentence should swing the sword.

Daeron wasn't certain he agreed. After all, it had been he himself who killed Jace.

Granting Ormund permission to do it himself was an act of kindness on Aegon's part. There could be no revenge for what happened at Oldtown, not truly. House Hightower had lost so many loved ones when Daemon and Rhaenyra engulfed it in flame. Executing Rhaenyra's son, who'd taken up arms against them, was an almost cathartic act of justice. Daeron was grateful that he could do that for Ormund. To give him that small measure of peace.

Even if claiming Jace's life did occasionally haunt Daeron in his dreams.

It was just. It was. Jace chose to fight for his mother rather than bending the knee, like we offered. He tried to kill Aegon at Rook's Rest. He deserved to die.

All the same, he'd looked into Jace's eyes before he swung the sword. Jace had behaved with grace and dignity the entire time he was being sentenced and forced to kneel. But the instant Daeron raised the blade, Jace reverted, if only for a second, to a fearful little boy. Barely a man grown and about to die surrounded by an army of men who despised him. And in that moment, the weight of what Daeron was about to do struck him like a blast of dragon fire.

An execution was a different beast altogether. It was not a kill in the heat of battle. Not a kill to defend those he loved. It was…different. Heavier. And Daeron took no joy in it. In fact, he prayed he'd never have to do it again.

But burning the fucking squids in combat? he thought with a grim smile. For that, I have no hesitation.

The Targaryen brothers had just finished when a tentative knock reverberated on the door. With permission from Aegon, an armored Ormund entered the room, head bowed respectfully towards his King.

Odd. I thought he would be helping Borros and the other battle commanders get our soldiers into position.

"Your Grace," Ormund said.

Aegon nodded. "Speak freely, cousin. What is it?"

Ormund did not smile. Daeron had not seen him smile since they'd learned of Gwayne's death, let alone the deaths of his own children, but the word 'cousin' relaxed him somewhat, reassuring him that he was amongst family.

"I am prepared to do my part to fight the Iron Born, your grace," Ormund declared. "I want to do my part to fight the Iron Born. I wish to see this war finished once and for all. I want to see the last of Rhaenyra's supporters stamped out so that we may move forward into peace."

As do I, Daeron supported him silently.

"But I cannot ignore that this battle, even with our advantage, may be my last," Ormund added. "Today may be the day that I die. And so before I lead my men into battle, I must see the matter of Oldtown's succession settled."

Daeron blinked. He'd never considered Oldtown's succession. Several Hightower cousins had managed to get safely underground before the burning, but Ormund no longer had any trueborn sons. 

Aegon tilted his head. "Your daughter, Bethany, still lives, does she not?" Aegon asked. "She was sent to Highgarden to help look after Princess Jaehaera."

"Yes, your grace, she does," Ormund agreed, shifting his weight, armor clanging. "But my Bethany is a sweet young girl with a gentle heart. Scarcely more than a child. She knows nothing of ruling, and Oldtown is in need of a strong leader, especially after the burning."

Daeron did not correct him. He knew Bethany. Was rather fond of her, in fact. Her kind and gentle nature reminded him of Helaena. To force Bethany into a political position as Oldtown's leader…Well, it would either overwhelm her, or she would get trampled and overruled by her own advisors.

"Very well," Aegon agreed. "So what do you propose, cousin?"

By Andal law, Bethany was the rightful heir, and so in passing her over, the matter grew more complex.

I suppose Grandfather Otto would be the next in line after Bethany…But Otto would make for a poor choice for the same reasons. He was Hand of the King; he could not simultaneously lead Oldtown.

One of Otto's sons perhaps? He had two others aside from Gwayne, and both had survived the burning.

Daeron was fully prepared to hear the name of one of his Hightower uncles pass Ormund's lips. He had a few in mind who would serve as decent candidates. But to his shock, his cousin turned to him, gaze fixed on Daeron proudly.

Me?

"Prince Daeron was raised in Oldtown, and he is very much like a son to me," Ormund declared. "He has attended council meetings at my side. The people of Oldtown know and love him well. And his dragon, Tessarion, would give Oldtown a sense of strength and security after the attack."

Daeron was honored, his chest swelling with pride…but he did not fault Aegon for looking more than a bit skeptical.

Aegon turned to Daeron, reached over, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I do not doubt that you would make for a fine Lord, little brother," he assured him. "But the realm is watching, and I am fresh off my own succession crisis with our sister…a succession crisis that is still not yet fully put to bed. If Bethany is passed over, then by law, there are several others ahead of you in the line of succession…Including Aemond." He twisted to nod at Aemond respectfully.

"For what it's worth," Aemond said, "I renounce any claim I would have to Oldtown. I have no desire to leave King's Landing."

Aemond's words made Aegon smile, but still, he shook his head.

"Nonetheless, my claim to the throne came, in part, from the Andal inheritance custom. To pass over several other rightful claimants in favor of Daeron could very well stir dissention in the realm."

Oddly though, Ormund's eyes sparkled at Aegon's words. As though he'd been waiting for them. And although he spoke to Aegon (as was custom, since he was King), his gaze flickered to Daeron as well, as if addressing them both.

"Not if we were to betroth Daeron to Bethany," he declared. "We can wed them as soon as they come of age."

Wed Bethany? Daeron blinked at the thought. He wasn't opposed to it. He liked Bethany well enough, but he never envisioned himself marrying her. He assumed he would be offered up to some other noble House in order to garner support for Aegon during the war, like Aemond was with Abby Tully.

"Daeron and Bethany both have Hightower blood, but they are distant enough cousins that the High Septon would not view it as…problematic…"

He won't use the phrase 'incest'. Not when Aegon is married to Helaena. Not that incest is truly a problem for Targaryens. But Daeron left that part unsaid.

"And with a marriage pact to the rightful heir by Andal custom, no one could argue that Daeron skipped the line of succession." Hesitating only a moment, Ormund added, "Of course, for the preservation of tradition, any children between the two would need to take the name Hightower rather than Targaryen."

Daeron flinched at the thought. He did not want to seem ungrateful. He was part Hightower, after all, and he knew how important House Hightower was to Oldtown. If his children were named Targaryen, it would very likely stir some ill-feelings. 

But at the same time, Daeron was proud to be a Targaryen. His Targaryen blood allowed him to bond with Tessarion. It bound him to his Targaryen brothers. It saddened him that he would not be able to pass that legacy on to his children.

So although it was Aegon's right to decide and it was not Daeron's place to speak, he could not help but suggest, "Only our firstborn son and heir would need to be named Hightower, but any subsequent children could inherit my name, as is Westerosi custom."

Aegon quirked an eyebrow at him, a silent rebuke for speaking out of turn, but nonetheless, he agreed. "This seems to be an equitable compromise. The blood and name of House Hightower remains strong, and Oldtown gains a strong, dragon-riding leader. Under the condition that Daeron and Bethany be wed, the crown can accept this succession arrangement…"

Pausing, he asked, "If that's what you want, little brother."

Daeron didn't need to consider it. Part of him was sad that he would not be returning to King's Landing to live in his family's castle, but Oldtown had very much become his home. And it was not as though he would have much to do in King's Landing anyway. Not once the war was settled. The only benefit would be spending time with his family, and he could easily visit King's Landing to do that. It was only a short flight on dragonback.

And the future of House Hightower would run through him.

Breaking decorum rules again, Daeron stepped forward and hugged Ormund, something he very seldom did with his straightlaced cousin. "I know this is not the future that either one of us wanted, cousin," he said. "I loved Lyonel, and I wished to see him succeed you. But I will do my utmost to make our House proud."

Ormund didn't exactly hug him back. It was more of an awkward clap on the shoulder. But Daeron felt the pride in it all the same. Ormund had been a father to him far more than Viserys ever had, and Daeron was proud that his cousin trusted him with both his daughter (his sole remaining child) and with Oldtown's future.

But first, they had to leave the war in the past.