High Tide, Chapter 46: The Ties that Bind (Patreon)

Sixth Moon, 109 AC

Daeron

The winds buffeted against Daeron as his dragon folded her wings and dived toward High Tide. He could hear the screeches of the dragons behind him and turned his head briefly to catch a glimpse. Laena was quick on their tail astride Shrykos and not far behind her were Jace and Luke atop their own dragons, fighting to not be last.

A prod he felt seemingly inside his own mind from Terrax through their bond nudged him to pay attention to where they were going. With this high stakes dive toward High Tide, if they didn’t pull up fast enough they could crash into the sandy low tide beaches but if they pulled up too soon they would lose speed and be overtaken by Laena and Shrykos.

Getting his head back in the game, Daeron narrowed his eyes at the rapidly approaching ground. They had raced along this very same route hundreds of times, ever since Daeron and his siblings had agreed on the route and routine. They mixed it up every now and then but this particular stunt was almost tradition by now.

Knowing instinctively when it was time, as one rider and dragon acted, pulling up from their dive as they neared the castle and entered into a hard right turn around the whole castle, with the tallest tower, nicknamed the Highest Tide, level with their turn.

Daeron laughed at the thrill as the turn slowed down their speed and his siblings followed suit behind him. They had ‘buzzed the tower’ as his father had termed it many times, and it had never ceased to amuse them and their father even if it irritated their mother at times.

“That’s another win for Daeron and Terrax,” Luke said with a laugh. “You’ve been on a roll lately little brother, at this rate you’ll beat Laena’s record!”

Laena smirked. “Not likely.”

Jace chuckled. “We’ll get him next time.”

His siblings and he led their dragons down to the entrance of the Dragon Lair. Once long ago it had simply been a cave entrance but in the years since, two great wooden doors had been built to shield the cave from rain. The doors shortly after they arrived as the Dragonkeepers spotted them.

Daeron was a bit stunned to see a familiar golden dragon in the Den when they entered. His eyes immediately began searching for his rider.

“Sunfyre is here,” Laena said, surprised.

“That’s because I am,” Aegon spoke up from where he was standing at the foot of the stairs.

“Aegon!” Daeron shouted in greeting as he rushed to dismount from his dragon. Laena beat him to it however, all but racing off her dragon into Aegon’s arms. Daeron smiled but he eventually pried Laena off so he too could embrace his best friend.

“What are you doing here Aegon?” Daeron asked his friend.

Aegon smirked. “I just wanted to see you both. I can’t stay long unfortunately. Preparations for the coronation ceremony have become more intensive.”

“Stay the night at least,” Laena insisted. “The hospitality of High Tide will always be yours.”

Aegon nodded. “Your parents said as much when I greeted them. I will be, don’t worry.”

Jace and Luke walked up then. “Aegon,” Jace greeted cordially.

“Jacaerys, Lucerys,” Aegon nodded in turn. Any outsider would have called it a cordial greeting but Daeron knew Aegon and it was strange to him. It seemed rather curt and cool. Sensing that Aegon had no desire to speak with them any further, Jace and Luke walked away after nodding to Daeron and Laena.

“What was that about?” Daeron asked Aegon.

“What do you mean?” Aegon was confused.

“You’re not normally so curt with Jace and Luke,” Laena pointed out.

“We were never exactly close you know,” Aegon defended himself.

“Yeah but you weren’t rude to them before either. What’s going on Aegon?” Daeron demanded.

Aegon sighed. “I’m sorry if I came across as rude. I’m just… I’m not sure how to act around Jacaerys and Lucerys after what happened in King’s Landing.”

Laena frowned. “With Daemon?”

Aegon became defensive. “I know he was at fault alright? It’s just… it’s a very messy situation.”

Daeron was unimpressed. “Daemon attacked our brother from behind dishonorably Aegon. It’s unacceptable.”

“I know,” He said, raising his voice a little and they were both taken aback. He toned down looking remorseful. “I’m sorry. This is why I didn’t want to address it. I don’t want to fight with you two, not over Daemon and Jacaerys of all people. He’s your brother and of course you’re going to support him and objectively I can and I will admit that he was in the right but Daemon is my mentor, my uncle. I’m his squire, I have a duty to stand by his side even when he doesn’t always deserve it and despite being a right prick I still love and respect him.

“Your family made the right choice to leave the capital. The Red Keep is a mess these days. Lines drawn between many nosy people with nosy opinions of their own and my parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles have all been shouting at each other for this thing and that thing. My uncle was even removed as the commander of the gold cloaks and I’ve heard my grandfather ruminating on what further punishment to give him. I just needed to get away from all of that. So can we please not fight about it?” Aegon pleaded.

Privately Daeron was of the opinion that Daemon being removed as commander of the gold cloaks was the least he deserved after the stunt he pulled in the Red Keep’s training yard but he did not voice those thoughts. He could see his friend was distressed. Daeron sighed. “Very well.”

Aegon’s smile was radiant. He was evidently pleased that Daeron had agreed to drop the subject. “Brilliant. Now, onto more pleasant topics, it has been quite some time since I enjoyed the hospitality of Driftmark. High Tide is extraordinarily wonderful as always, but I confess that there is only so many times I can visit the castle and still find ways for us to entertain ourselves here. You two have already ridden your dragons today and I’m not much in the mood for dueling, and that would exclude you as well Laena, so what do you two suggest we do today?”

“We could visit Spicetown,” Laena offered with a sly smirk.

“Ah yes,” Daeron said. “When in doubt, visit Spicetown.”

The three of them laughed and within a moment the earlier seriousness and conflict vanished as they recalled their childhood antics. Many of the stunts that had earned Daeron the nickname of the ‘Daring’ had come from stupid things Laena and Aegon had dared him to do in Spicetown when they were younger. Come to think of it, his most memorable feat had been climbing up the clocktower though he hadn’t made it more than a quarter of the way up before the Tide Guard had retrieved him and frog marched the three of them to his mother to be lectured profusely.

With their destination set, the three friends readied their dragons and set off for Spicetown. Daeron could sense some annoyance from Terrax that he was making her fly so soon after they had gotten back from an intense race but she obeyed him nonetheless. Once they’d landed their dragons outside the city gates, they walked into the town eagerly.

Daeron had to resist both an amused chuckle and a proud smile watching the captains of the watch assign some of their men to guard them from a distance. His family’s soldiers and servants were exceedingly loyal and devoted to them.

Stifling his laughter, he turned his attention back to his friend and sister. Their hands were linked as they laughed and smiled, with Laena leaning her head a little on Aegon’s shoulder as they rushed to this shop and that stall. They looked like almost a newlywed couple, strolling down the street, and Daeron was just the third wheel on their cart.

He’d have to make sure to chaperone them and ensure they didn’t get up to anything, not that Daeron thought either of them would be so irresponsible but he knew all too well how frustrated they must be. The two of them were so clearly in love and Daeron felt for what had been denied to them. Hope remained still but even if it was merely a temporary delay it must be agonizing to wait even longer after it was so, so close to happening.

A few months ago, everything had seemed so simple to Daeron. His grandfather had just died and while it was tragic Daeron hadn’t really cared all that much for him. Instead he had looked to what he believed would be a grand new future for House Velaryon and House Targaryen; his Uncle Aemon was now the King and had proposed an incredible agreement that would have made a lasting peace.

Jace would marry Rhaenyra and there was a potential that Luke and himself would marry Rhaenyra’s cousins. Laena would marry Aegon as both of them wanted and one day Laena would be Queen and while Daeron was humble enough to not boast about it, it was most likely that Aegon would ask him to be his Hand. Their families and realms would be bound together. Peace would be secured, and the future seemed so certain.

Yet now, almost nothing was. The promised deal had failed to materialize. Aegon’s betrothal to Laena had not gone through even if Daeron kept hope that it could. Jace would not be marrying Rhaenyra, instead he and Luke would be marrying Baela and Rhaena, the daughters of a man who hated their family and was Aegon’s uncle and mentor. Everything was so messy now, and Daeron wasn’t sure where to even begin making sense of it all.

His brothers and he were at odds with Daemon, and Aegon was by his own admission, still close and respectful to him. A part of Daeron was hurt about that but a larger more pragmatic part accepted it. Daemon was Aegon’s mentor, the knight he was learning from, and more than that he was his own uncle. He could no sooner disregard him than he could cut off his own arm.

It wasn’t like Daeron didn’t understand his friend’s dilemma, he did. His aunts, uncles, and cousins in House Velaryon all despised the Targaryens on principle including Aegon, even if they tolerated him. Especially Aunt Irina and Vaemond who still blamed the Targaryens for the circumstances that led to the death of Uncle Rhaekar in Tyrosh.

Grudges died hard and it was not just House Velaryon that held them, but their people as well. Everywhere Daeron looked, he could see an empty street, an abandoned house or a deserted shop lot. Even after his parents had worked to restore Spicetown for nine years, it had yet to reach its former glory, it probably never would. Spicetown’s infrastructure and buildings were maintained perfectly with not a hint of decay but it was borne out of pride and vanity than any true need. It was a ghost town with a mere fraction of the population it once held and could have held.

Rather than House Velaryon who had served and ruled them well for decades, the people had been graciously understanding and educated and had come to direct all of their anger at the Targaryens instead. House Targaryen had not been beloved or popular on Driftmark in almost twenty years and Aegon was no exception to that rule.

Daeron could see the unfriendly stares, the frowns as he walked. For Laena and himself the townspeople had only smiles and pride but for Aegon they had only wariness and mistrust. They were wise enough to hold their tongues against a Targaryen prince and also for the sake of their beloved lieges who had welcomed him as a friend, but they could not stop the stares.

It was worse than usual today Daeron noted. Over time the people had come to accept Aegon due to his close association with Laena and himself and his constant visits but sentiments against the Targaryens were at an all-time high after his uncle’s proposed reconciliation had fallen through. Disappointed and feeling betrayed by the Targaryens yet again, there had been renewed calls across the entire Velaryon State to break ties with the Iron Throne completely and crown his parents as King and Queen. They had suppressed such treasonous talks in public, but the people’s will was clear; they would rather a Velaryon as their King than a Targaryen.

Sometimes it made Daeron wonder if he was doing right by his friend. Was he manipulating and influencing him under the guise of friendship to favor a house and people who did not truly reciprocate his goodwill? He tried his best to put those thoughts from his mind whenever he could, rationalizing it away however he could because it just felt wrong. His friendship with Aegon and the brotherly love between them was real, he knew it was. It was only natural to want a friend to favor you and your family wasn’t it?

He was not the only one whose thoughts were elsewhere as well it seemed. Aegon was acting off today as well, Daeron noticed. Despite Laena quite literally clinging to his arms, his mind seemed to be elsewhere half the time. What was bothering him so much that he wasn’t paying Laena her proper due attention as he normally would? He decided to get to the bottom of this.

The next opportunity he had, when Laena was distracted inside a jewelry shop, he took Aegon outside and confronted him softly.

“Alright, spit it out,” Daeron ordered him.

Aegon sighed. “Spit what out?”

“You’re acting weird today. Like your head is in the clouds. I know we regularly soar in the clouds atop our dragons but that doesn’t mean our heads should be there at other times,” he jested trying to take the edge of his demand.

Aegon smiled a little at the jape. “Where to begin?”

“Is it your family?” Daeron pressed. “Earlier you mentioned how you wanted to just get away from the whole mess with your uncle and everything.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s bothering me a lot. To be honest I hadn’t meant to leave. My grandfather told me to come, said that it would reassure you that we were working to resolve the situation and bring about the true deal we agreed on, and I took him up on it. I thought that coming to Driftmark to spend time with you and Laena would help distract me from everything but sometimes – “

“It can be hard to just shrug off the thoughts?” Daeron finished.

There was an impressed look in Aegon’s eyes. “Yeah, exactly.” His mood soured however. “Though, no offense to you or Laena Daeron, but if I’m being honest I don’t think coming to Driftmark has helped very much. Everywhere I go, I can feel the stares, the judgement, the anger. From your Dragonkeepers, your guards, from just the common smallfolk across the street. It’s everywhere.

“I’ve always felt it. Ever since we were boys I’ve felt in some part like I was unwelcome, a trespasser. And if the sting of rejection is this bad in Driftmark, I can only imagine what it would feel like if I ever visit Tyrosh with you like you’ve offered many times. It’s why I never wanted to go in truth, that and my parents would not allow it.”

Daeron was sympathetic. “I understand. I’ve felt similar visiting Dragonstone sometimes, but most especially when I came to court recently.”

There was an understanding look in Aegon’s eyes. “Yes, the Red Keep is a snake den of intrigue and deceit at the best of times but it’s still home for me.”

“Perhaps there is a greater purpose to our friendship?” Daeron suggested. “To help usher in the reconciliation of our families and homes?”

Aegon smiled at the thought. “That would be nice.”

He looked a little hesitant before he continued. “Along this line, lately I’ve been having thoughts of my own. All this talk of reconciliation and family legacy is making me rather philosophical. I’ve been pondering about the meaning of duty and honor; of what it means to make a legacy of your own.”

Daeron recalled watching Jace giving up his first love, his elder brother’s confiding in him of his true ambitions for their house. “A very heavy topic in my experience,” he told his friend. Unbidden, his own doubts came to mind as well, his own pondering of how he could be dutiful to his house and yet also seek his own legacy, his long forgotten ambitions and wanderlust.

Aegon chuckled a little. “It is yeah. I think I’ve been able to start coming to my own understanding of it all, and start building a plan for my own legacy and I think that resolving the matter between our families must be the priority.”

“I’m all ears,” Daeron said.

His friend laughed. “Hold your horses. It’s early days yet and I would be embarrassed to relate a plan that hasn’t even truly formed yet. I’ll be sure to let you know once it’s a little more developed though.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Daeron told him with a smile but before they could continue their discussion any further, Laena came out and scolded them for leaving her alone and their conversation was all but forgotten, but in the back of Daeron’s mind it continued to dwell.

_______________________________________________

They had had hosted Aegon with a feast at High Tide that night as they had many times in the past. As always he had praised the wonderful food and their hospitality and he had laughed merrily and japed with Daeron and Laena and with their parents. It was a good time and for a while Daeron had let himself forget about the thoughts that had begun to gnaw at him.

Daeron had tried to not think too much about it, but he had noticed that the pattern of Aegon’s cool curtness with Jace and Luke had continued. Furthermore, they now seemed to reciprocate it in turn almost eagerly, choosing instead to socialize with and speak to their Uncle Aurane, Aunts Alys and Irina, and their whole host of cousins. As usual, they did not speak to Aegon very much beyond the basic niceties.

The next morning, Daeron and Laena were seeing Aegon off in the Dragon Den. Daeron and he embraced warmly before they were broken apart by Laena who all but melted into his arms. Daeron eventually felt awkward as they held each other for several minutes before reluctantly breaking apart.

“Well, it’s past time I leave,” Aegon began. “I’ll see you both at the coronation next moon.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Daeron told him. “I know you’ll be busy, but do write if you can. We’ll always write back.”

“Of course,” he said.

“Our time should be a lot easier to manage after the coronation,” Laena said. “We could spend time on Dragonstone like last time or we could fly to court every now and then.”

“Sounds good. And I’ll be sure to keep working with my grandfather on convincing my parents. Uncle Daemon and Aunt Gael’s opposition to our marriage is meaningless if we can convince my parents to if not support it, then at least not oppose it,” Aegon said and Daeron nodded at his words.

Turning back to Laena, Aegon kissed her tenderly. She made to deepen the kiss but he pulled away. “I have to go,” he said. Laena looked saddened but accepting and she bid him farewell. Mounting Sunfyre, Aegon waved goodbye at them before his dragon thrust itself out of the Dragon Den and soared into the skies.

Once Aegon had left, Laena departed back to her rooms, leaving Daeron alone in the Den. He soon found that his thoughts could not be kept at bay any longer. He had kept himself up half the night, writhing about in his bed thinking. What did duty and legacy really mean to him? Jace and Aegon both seemed to have found their answers or were in the process and Luke and Laena were not far behind them he was sure.

What about him though? What did he see as his duty? What did he want to be his legacy? For so long he had thought he had known but now with everything changing and uncertain, he didn’t know. He walked from the Den, his mind elsewhere, dwelling on thoughts of duty and honor, ambition and legacy.

Jace had confessed to Daeron and their other two siblings that he felt like he was in the shadow of their parents and of the three of them. His words had resonated in Daeron’s soul because often he had thought the same.

Daeron was the youngest in his family with three older siblings and two famous parents. His mother and father’s exploits needed no description, Jace was the perfect heir, Luke the loyal lieutenant and right hand man of Jace and a brilliant knight in his own right, and Laena the flawlessly lovely lady. In the light of that, Daeron had wondered what he could contribute that could match and when he had found nothing, he had decided that he would simply serve his elder siblings and Aegon as loyally and dutifully as he could, content to stay in the shadow.

Jace had said that he had felt inadequate and unknown because while the three of them had epithets of their own, he had none and being perfect was simply expected of him. Daeron could sympathize with his brother but thought that he would rather have no epithet than have that infamy of reckless stupidity from his childhood.

His mother had often liked to coddle him when he was younger, always making sure that he was safe and lecturing him whenever he was too reckless. A relic of her guilt for flying to a potential battle when she was pregnant with him, his father had told him. He felt guilty about it sometimes but a part of why he had constantly accepted stupid dares was to escape that stifling overprotection, to prove to her that he could take care of himself. In hindsight he had only made her worry more.

Those stupid dares had earned him his epithet the ‘Daring.’ It was so pointless to him now. If he had to have an epithet, why not have it for a good reason? He would rather be Daeron the Dutiful than the Daring. Still the name had stuck and perhaps he could make something more of it.

He could revive his old ambitions and wanderlust and make his epithet mean something more than foolish boyhood antics. He could make it be the mark of an explorer who dared to push the boundaries of the Known World, yet he wondered if that was not selfish of him to seek out his own glory and memory over the glory of their house. For so long he had defined himself as a dutiful follower of those who had his loyalty that seeking to be more felt strange.

Soon his feet had carried him to his father’s solar without him fully realizing it. Somewhere deep down, he had desired his father’s counsel. Lord Commander Jaremy was on guard at the door and smiled at him. Mustering up his courage, Daeron knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he heard his father’s voice through the door. Opening it, Daeron entered to see him looking over some papers at his desk.

“Ah, Daeron, what are you doing here?” His father asked, a little surprised to see him.

“Were you expecting someone else Father?” He asked.

“Jace actually, but evidently he’s not here yet so it’s no trouble. Please, take a seat. What brings you here my son?”

Daeron sat down. “It’s just something Aegon said Dad,” he answered, deciding to address his father more intimately.

When they were all much younger, they had addressed their parents with the Valyrian terms of muna and kepa and while they still used those whenever they spoke in High Valyrian, which was hardly uncommon in their family, for whatever reason they felt exceedingly childish to use whenever they spoke Common. They had only ever called their mother ‘Mother’ in Common but their father had permitted them to call him ‘Dad’ whenever they spoke in private and they often used it interchangeably with the much more formal ‘Father’.

“What did he say?” His father asked.

“He said that the recent events have had him considering the meaning of duty and legacy and what they mean to him. It’s made me wonder at that myself. For so long, everything seemed certain to me. Aegon would marry Laena, Jace would marry Rhaenyra, and I would likely be Aegon’s Hand one day and serve him and Jace loyally.

“Now though, much of that future, that certainty is gone and while I still hope that Laena and Aegon will wed, I find myself wondering if all I want for my own future is to just be a servant of my brother and friend. What will be my legacy, my contribution to our family’s greatness, if that is all I am? Yet at the same time, isn’t it my duty to be that loyal follower?”

“So what else would you hope to do then Daeron?” His father questioned, resting his chin on his interlocked hands.

“I find at times my wanderlust is growing. When I was younger I admired your exploits as the Sea Snake when you went voyaging across the world. I idolized Jaenara Belaerys, to the point of naming my own dragon for hers. I thought that maybe I could follow in both of your footsteps and explore the world, but that would require leaving the family behind, leaving Aegon. It feels selfish to prioritize my own desires over the family’s needs. Don’t I need to stay here and by everyone’s side? To be Aegon’s Hand one day and Jace’s lieutenant? To wed and have a wife and children of my own?”

“It’s not impossible to do both,” his father answered. “I was the same after all. My grandfather tried to convince me to stay using much the same reasoning you wonder about but still I went and I was able to make my wanderlust serve the family’s needs in very profitable ways.

“You are young still Daeron, and so is your friend. By the time Aegon is King it will be decades from now. It would not be abandoning your friend if you left for a few years to go voyaging. Jace has confided in you his plans yes? If they are realized and we take the Basilisks and the Cinnamon Straits, then you can also serve as his representative in those territories whenever you stop over during your voyages, take a short break from them to see to any matters before continuing. Not to mention your explorations would enrich our knowledge of the greater world and that could give us new advantages.

“I’m quite proud and happy to hear this honestly Daeron. Out of all of your siblings, you are the one who took to the sea the most and after me in this aspect. That you desire to follow in my footsteps is flattering and makes me as happy even if I am admittedly worried for your safety; the seas are not always a kind mistress. Nonetheless, when the time comes, if you still desire to go, I will support your endeavors. You will have a ship to tread for the dawn, I promise you that. Though I would ask that you refrain from exploring the Sunset Sea, not only is it extraordinarily dangerous, it is pointless as all your discoveries would only benefit our rivals in the Western Bloc instead of our own family.

“As for marriage, you are the third son Daeron. Your mother and I would like for you to marry but there’s no hurry for you to wed, especially not once your older brothers have married their betrotheds and had children of their own. Just as I did, you could wait to wed until you are done with your voyages and ready to settle down.”

Daeron nodded thoughtfully. He hadn’t considered things that way until his father had explained it to him. He was feeling quite eager and unburdened when his father spoke again.

“There is one exception however Daeron. If by some chance, Aegon and Laena’s marriage does not go forward, you are the one who must marry Laena in his stead.”

Daeron froze. In the back of his mind he had always known that Laena would have to marry a dragonrider to keep the dragons inside either their family or the Targaryens and to keep the blood pure. Still, he had thought that Aegon was guaranteed to be her groom and on the slight chance that he wasn’t, Jace or Luke would marry her instead.

Never had Daeron ever considered the idea that Laena could be his bride and not Aegon’s or his brothers’, but his father was right. Jace and Luke were both betrothed, it was him or Aegon at this point. For a brief moment he allowed himself to consider it; Laena was the image of their mother in many ways, with a bit of their father mixed in. Any man would be blessed to have her as their wife. She was exceedingly beautiful and her epithet was even the ‘Lovely’.

He let himself think of kissing her, of loving her, not as brother but as a man. Their tongues would meet and they would taste each other. Her skin would tremble in delight beneath his fingers as he helped her out of her dress and then his eyes would move lower and lower…He shook himself out of his thoughts and stared at the desk, unable to meet his father’s eyes.

It was confusing. He felt a strange tormented mix of emotions; desire for a beautiful woman, shame for lusting after his own sister, and guilt for having designs on his friend’s lover. He felt so disgusted with himself and yet a part of him also thought that there was nothing wrong with it at all, longed for it even.

“I see this is the first time you’ve even considered it,” his father observed.

Daeron looked at him aghast. “She’s my sister!” He protested.

“And your grandfather’s wife was his,” he pointed out. “You are a Targaryen on your mother’s side Daeron. Their blood runs in your veins, as does their tendency to marry close kin as well perhaps. You know the reasoning don’t you? It will keep Laena and the dragon in the family, keep the blood pure, and keep the ties of kinship between the dragonriders of our house strong. There’s very few men I would trust with Laena or consider worthy of her apart from you Daeron and your older brothers can no longer be on that list. It will fall to you if need be and if you are the one who ends up marrying Laena, I expect you to do right by her.”

Daeron nodded furiously and his father softened. “You are not even of age yet Daeron. Your mother certainly won’t let you go voyaging until you are at least twenty. Marrying Laena, being Aegon’s Hand or Jace’s lieutenant and exploring the world and all these other things are still simply distant possibilities that are far off in the future. For now, focus on the present, on your relationships with your family and friends, and on your studies and your spear training especially if you still want Aeglos.”

“Of course I do,” Daeron said firmly. He had worked hard to prove himself worthy of wielding that Valyrian steel spear. He was not about to stop now.

“Good. Go do what has to be done then,” his father instructed.

“I will,” Daeron said as he rose from his seat. “Thank you Father.”

His father inclined his head. “You are most welcome my son. Any time.”

As he left his father’s solar, he greeted Jace who was waiting patiently at the door. “Apologies for taking up your time Jace.”

“It’s no trouble little brother. Might I inquire what you were speaking with Dad about?”

“Nothing important,” Daeron denied. “I just needed some advice for what I want to do. I could tell you another time if you’d like, but you’d best not keep Father waiting any longer right now.”

His brother raised his eyebrow but accepted his advice. He walked into the solar and closed the door behind him.

With a nod to Ser Jaremy, Daeron walked off. His father’s words had given him much to consider.

______________________________________

Jacaerys

Jace walked into his father’s solar, wondering what his younger brother had been speaking to their father about. Of course it was probably nothing that concerned him but he couldn’t resist feeling curious.

“Jace,” his father greeted him as he arrived.

“Father,” he greeted in turn. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the seat.

“Of course.”

Jace nodded and took his seat. “What were you speaking about to Daeron if I may ask?”

“Oh nothing secret or anything. Your brother is just a little uncertain about his future and what he would like to pursue. He’s indicated a desire to me to go voyaging as I did when he’s a bit older and he was wondering how to reconcile that with his duties here, to you and to his friend Aegon. I told him that Aegon is not likely going to be King for many years and he could still honor his duties to you and to the rest of us by serving as our representative in our overseas territories and pushing the boundaries of our knowledge in the east and south. Especially if your ambitions are realized.”

“You want to move forward with them then?” Jace leaned in eagerly, his thoughts having moved away from Daeron.

“Some of them,” his father clarified. “To be honest Jace I have considered almost all of your ideas in the past and for whatever reason they never materialized or I decided against pursuing them. Number one, the Triarchy. Restoring it would necessitate war with Volantis and it would be a massive expansion of our continuous territory and so close to Westeros as well. It is the most likely to draw a negative response from not only the Targaryens but the Free Cities as a whole and many of them frankly just don’t like us after we destroyed Slaver’s Bay.”

“We care about the opinions of slavers now?” Jace challenged.

“Hardly, the real problem is the Targaryens. Taking the Triarchy any time soon would completely diplomatically isolate us from much of Westeros and Essos as well and while we stand to gain a lot, we could jeopardize everything and set our house on an inescapable path to war against the Targaryens with few allies. And of course, all of this is ignoring the inherent difficulties of such a task. We had massive problems integrating Tyrosh and pacifying it under our rule; why would Lys and Myr be any different?”

Jace was ready with an answer. “Viserria wasn’t a problem. We could take a hardline to pacifying the cities, wipe out all the nobles from the moment we conquer it, and not bother with collaborators at all like we did in Tyrosh. Even if the Targaryens put us under sanctions, Tyrosh is strong and wealthy to sustain us through the time it takes to make Lys and Myr profitable and they are or were Free Cities in their own right. I imagine they would be massively profitable once we rebuild them to Tyroshi standards.

“Also the Tyroshi sect of the Faith of the Seven has spread far across Essos. In Lys and Myr especially, many slaves adhere to the Zaldilaros Creed and the words of the Seven-Pointed Star in secret away from the watchful eyes of their masters. Just like in Tyrosh, the majority of the slave population of both cities is likely to support us. I don’t think it would be very much difficult to integrate them both.”

His father was thoughtful. Jace continued. “I have been hearing rumors whenever I visit Tyrosh. Of a movement that calls itself the Triune. These Triunal advocates are made up primarily of slaves and former slaves across the three cities, and taking inspiration from the failed Triarchy, they hope to lay the groundwork for us, House Velaryon, to come in and liberate Lys and Myr after a slave revolt and unite it with Tyrosh in a three-part realm. “

“The Conches have brought word of this movement to me yes. At present it is little more than whispers on the street. It has merit I suppose but I fear that playing to religious zealotry may create something we cannot control. The High Septons failed to rein in the Faith Militant after all,” his father said.

“Only because they did not actually want to,” Jace countered. “You removed most of the true fanatics during the Morghon Riots and the remainder have been dispersed thinly among the populace. Our control over the clergy in Tyrosh is absolute and the populace is devoted to us; between that and our dragons and army, we should easily be able to keep control. Not to mention, we would be doing exactly what they want, liberating more of Essos from the shackles of slavery. Why would they oppose us?”

“What if they don’t want to stop? After Lys and Myr, shall we march on Volantis and Pentos as well? Push onward into North Valyria or to Norvos, Qohor, and Essaria? A line has to be drawn somewhere Jace. Otherwise we will spend the rest of our lives constantly fighting and working to stabilize what we have taken, to say nothing of how unnerved the Targaryens will be of this.”

“The Faith of the Seven is much weaker in the rest of Essos as of yet and even if the slaves do revolt in the rest of Essos, nothing mandates us to aid them, or if we do, to annex those territories. Any fanatics or radicals who desire to fight further may be allowed to do so outside our borders and provided indirect aid at best while we keep order within our new borders with our dragons and armies. We could cut down Volantis and Pentos in the process, they are overly large and threatening to us right now and they may align with the Targaryens to surround us. Acting preemptively to prevent that would be ideal,” Jace pointed out.

“Tyrosh does not exist alone Jace. These actions would infuriate the whole of Essos west of the Bones. Our wealth is born from trade, who will trade with us if we start conquering and warring across the continent?” His father questioned.

“Whoever who just doesn’t care. Wars have always happened and even in the midst of the worst of them trade was possible. Our territories are reasonably large enough to sustain us from the lands themselves and their taxes and total embargos and sanctions are impossible to maintain. Our control over the trade routes going to the Jade Sea and the goods we produce ourselves are too valued by most to give up simply because we are fighting against Volantis. Not to mention, we could simply take the funds and materials we need from raiding Volantene territory beyond what we desire to annex.

“It may even be possible that we end up aligned with some of the other Free Cities. Conflict continues to brew in the east and this time the word has it that Volantis and Pentos have allied once again. We could gain the diplomatic leeway needed to annex Lys and Myr by joining the coalition forming up against them,” Jace argued.

“And the Targaryens? You have still not addressed that Jace. Why would they let us do this?” His father challenged him.

If Jace was being honest, he wasn’t sure. It was exciting to theorize and make plans to account for all the other factors but the Targaryens made Jace doubt. After his conversation with his father a few days ago, Jace had come to fully understand just how much House Targaryen stood in the way of him and his ambitions. He thought on his father’s question for a little while before he formed a rudimentary plan.

“This plan would be long-term naturally. Once Luke and I have wed Baela and Rhaena, the Targaryens are not likely to act against us for at least another generation. And if Laena’s marriage with Aegon goes forward, that will give us an avenue to convince the Targaryens to let us do this.

“Arguably speaking, Tyrosh’s territory is tiny compared to a kingdom the size of the Westerlands or Reach so we could argue that we are simply seeking out our rightful demesne. Not to mention Tyrosh’s arguable legal claims on Lys and Myr as the last truly independent member of the old Triarchy.

“We could also sweeten the deal by giving the Targaryens something to gain from this rather than trying to force them to just let us grow more powerful. We could offer to actively support them in a new conquest of Dorne in exchange for their recognition and allowance of our conquests in Essos.”

His father hummed as he considered his words. “Something to consider I suppose. I am still of the opinion that this would be very risky though. Planning for it at this stage would also be premature given that you have yet to marry your betrothed and we have no word yet on whether Aegon and Laena will marry. The situation could change greatly in a few years’ time.”

“I can agree to that,” Jace admitted. The future was very uncertain right now. “We can table discussions for the Triarchy until a later time.”

His father smiled. “Excellent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to all your ideas. Just worried about the risks. Some are very promising, especially the Basilisk Isles. Actually when we captured Velos and Viserra ten years ago, I myself thought that they might be a stepping stone for further expansion into the Basilisk Isles and the Cinnamon Straits.”

“Why did you never pursue that thought further then?” Jace was curious.

“Well, I had to raise you and your siblings didn’t I? The Slaver’s Bay campaign took your mother and I away from you and your siblings for almost two years at a time when all of you were very young. I remember all of you were quite upset that we were gone for so long, even if you and Luke tried to hide it. Daeron and Laena certainly made their complaints known to us. Your mother couldn’t bear to leave you so long again and well, neither could I.”

Jace nodded at his father’s words. It was a fair argument. He certainly did appreciate that the Slaver’s Bay campaign was the only time he could really remember being separated from his parents for more than a few weeks.

“In addition, it feels like it’s been longer, but it has been barely ten years or so since we took Velos and Viserria. We needed time to build them up and solidify our control over them before we could feel comfortable using them as basing grounds to expand yet again. By the time that had happened, well we were preoccupied attempting to solidify our rapprochement with the Targaryens and also… I will be honest with you Jace, I’m tired.”

Jace tilted his head slightly, feeling a bit confused by what his father meant. His father smiled reservedly at him before he elaborated.

“For the past thirty or so years of my life, it feels like I’ve been endlessly working. Going on constant voyages to build up our family’s wealth and power, working as Master of Ships, working on a relationship with your mother, building our house back up again after Tyrosh and trying to work out an agreement with the Targaryens, it just never stops. When do I get to rest? When do I get to lay down and just eat the fruits of my labor? I want to retire here in High Tide and just relax and enjoy life and luxuries with your mother.

“My days gallivanting across the world on adventurous voyages and tedious wars are over. If and when the time comes Jace, you will be the one who has to personally lead the expedition to take the Basilisk Isles, and all your other conquests. I don’t imagine you have a problem with this do you?”

“No,” Jace admitted. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up and look selfish but he had secretly hoped that his father would ask him to lead the campaign. It would let him make a name for himself and attain the glory that came with it. It would also be good for his eventual rule of the house, allowing him to test himself in a relatively low risk war, if you could call pirate extermination a war.

“This all works out quite well then doesn’t it? You and Mother can relax at home here in High Tide, and Luke, Daeron, and I will go forth and do our own part in enriching and strengthening our house, making a name for ourselves as we desire while the two of you enjoy the peace and retirement that you desire and deserve.”

His father smiled. “Indeed. I’m still perfectly willing to rule our domains of course and I will help you plan your campaigns, but you and your brothers will be the ones that lead them.”

“So are we doing it then? Shall we take the Basilisk Isles?” Jace asked, it still wasn’t clear to him if they were.

“You tell me. What’s in it for our house? What will the Basilisk Isles give us beyond personal glory for yourself, that would justify the expense needed to conquer and occupy them?” His father asked him.

This was a test, and one Jace was well prepared for. “Firstly, we would permanently clear out the corsairs and pirates in the Basilisk Isles that prey on our trade routes in the Summer Sea. Furthermore, the Basilisk Isles are strategically positioned to let us control the entire swathe of the Summer Sea between them and Velos and Viserria. That will make the seas in the region safer for our merchant marine and increase our profits as we lose less ships and cargo to piracy and maybe we could even tax the passing ships from other cities and states.

“Not to mention the Basilisk Isles themselves have great potential. Their warm tropical climate would be ideal to help grow and produce different varieties of silk and tea and not to mention many exotic fruits and spices and other crops. Those fruits would be difficult to transport beyond the Basilisk Isles but our ice trade with the North could help solve that, with ice used to keep the fruits fresh. Failing that or in addition to it, the fruits could be given to our sailors on passing ships to help them avoid scurvy.

“We could source some of these agricultural crops and seeds from the Summer Isles. It would reduce the influence of the Western Bloc and their South Seas Company and allow us to reduce our own dependence on them for certain produce. Almost anything the Summer Islanders grow could be grown in the Basilisk Isles as well, even the things they don’t export.

“I’m wondering if we could task the Conches with infiltrating some of the Summer Islands and getting goldenheart seeds or other restricted goods. Goldenheart especially would be useful; apart from dragonbone, it is the finest wood to craft bows from in the world and it would be an excellent weapon for our archers both at sea and on land. Goldenheart is in general, a priceless wood for making weapons, furniture, jewelry or any other sort of woodwork and it is in high demand due to the Summer Islanders’ refusal to export it.”

“Learning from my example?” His father joked.

Jace smiled slyly. “Certainly not Father. I won’t be personally risking my life to acquire these goods after all.”

His father laughed. “Fair enough. Well said Jace, it is a very well thought out plan.”

“Thank you Father.”

“I do have some suggestions though,” his father said.

“By all means, I’m all ears.”

Almost casually, his father took out some notes from his shelf and Jace realized yet again that he was truly still just an apprentice learning from a master. His father explained it to him as he read; according to him, he had learned of many of these things from his travels in the Jade Sea and the Summer Islands in his youth. Written on the notes was a massive list of goods that could be grown in the Basilisk Isles, compiled over the past few years.

Many of them, Jace had barely even heard of or hadn’t at all. Fruits such as lychees, tamarinds, durians, dragon fruits, guavas, bananas, pineapples, oranges, mangos and lemons. Herbs like basil and coriander and spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, pepper, star anise, saffron, and cloves, and a whole host of other crops like cocoa, coffee, tea, silk and the mulberries needed to feed the worms. Manioc, taro, onion, ginger, garlic, yam, beans, chili, curry, the list was almost endless.

His father’s notes also went into great detail on palms, noting the uses of different types in producing oils and also sap resin (called dragon’s blood of all things apparently) to make dyes. The coconut palm tree was also given special attention, with annotations noting the uses of its wood and the deliciousness of its fruit. The notes even outlined a process making sugar by tapping the sap of the coconut flower and evaporating the collected sap.

Jace took particular interest in this. Sugar was an especially highly valued good across the entire world. It was craved by the lords of Westeros and the magisters of Essos alike as well as whatever smallfolk that had the fortune to taste anything sugary. Jace would admit his siblings and him were among those who craved sugar. Along with spices and salt, it was just one of the luxuries they had grown up enjoying much of because of their parents’ efforts.

Most of the sugar in the world was produced in either the Jade Sea or the Summer Islands which had apparently independently developed similar means of producing the valuable sweetener. It would be exceedingly profitable if one were to acquire their own source of sugar for their personal consumption and to sell to others. Many had tried, including Jace’s own family.

Years ago the University of Spicetown had discovered that sugar was present in some beets that grew in Westeros and Western Essos. They had been cultivating and breeding the beets to be larger and researching ways to extract its sugar but it had been one of many projects that had been stalled by the university’s move to Tyrosh and they still hadn’t made much progress.

Others were trying as well. According to his father’s notes, it seemed that Volantenes and some others across the world were trying to grow their own sugar with a plant they had recently domesticated called sugarcane but it was exceedingly difficult to grow and farm, requiring much labor. To Jace’s distaste, slavery was the natural choice by many to produce sugarcane sugar cheaply but unfortunately for Volantis and the rest, and Jace took no small amount of pleasure from this, there happened to be a bit of a shortage in cheap slaves ever since his parents had destroyed Slaver’s Bay.

Once they had finished going through the notes, Jace looked to his father in awe. “These notes are incredible Dad. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

His father seemed to preen at the praise. “Thank you, I do try my best.”

“There is something we haven’t touched yet though,” he said then. “The Basilisk Isles are a notorious breeding ground for disease, parasites, and ailments. How are we to people the region and produce all these fabulous crops if everyone we send is too sick or dead to work?”

Jace frowned before he answered. “We know both Old Valyria and Old Ghis were able to colonize the Basilisk Isles in numbers large enough to build a great city so that must mean the region is somewhat habitable for Essosi and Westerosi folk. It’s possible that the decline in the population since the Red Death has allowed many of these parasites and the diseases they carry to breed with abandon in the wilderness, thus making the islands less habitable today than they once were.”

“And how would you solve this?” His father pressed.

“Our medicine continues to advance as research continues in our universities. Perhaps it may be enough to make the Basilisk Isles habitable, maybe even the Green Hell in neighboring Sothoryos as well.”

His father chuckled. “Try not to get ahead of yourself there Jace. I agree our improving medicines could help us settle the Basilisks or at least restore them to the state they used to be in under Valyria, but I doubt that it will do anything for Sothoryos. Not even Old Valyria itself could colonize that hellhole and if the rumors of Yeen and the rest are true, I don’t think we even want to try.

“Which reminds me Jace, if you lead the expedition to the Basilisk Isles, I implore you not to go to Sothoryos, to Yeen especially. There is a darkness and evil in those places that does not sleep,” his father’s voice was unexpectedly grim and serious and Jace nodded, taken aback.

“To be honest, I would also be wary of Gogossos. Who knows what foul sorceries the blood mages and flesh shapers conjured is still present there,” his father continued, looking disgusted.

Jace agreed with the sentiment. Even hearing of what had happened in Gogossos was disturbing. Still, he did have to point it out. “Gogossos would be an ideal capital for the region. It’s situated on the largest and one of the most central islands and the Valyrians and Ghiscari both settled it.”

“And what about the Red Death?” His father asked.

“It’s been over a hundred years since it disappeared, it’s probably gone by now.”

“Plagues can reappear at any time. It may be better to just burn the ruins to the ground with your dragon and start anew,” his father advised.

His father’s words were starting to worry Jace now and seemingly realizing it, his father changed the topic. “Anyway, there is another way we could easily settle the islands and not worry too much about disease. The Summer Islanders and Naathi are from similar climates and would be best suited to the region. We have tens of thousands of them that we freed from slavery that currently live in the Velos or Viserria territories. They would make ideal settlers,” his father said.

Jace’s thoughts went wild at that as he began thinking on ways to recruit more settlers. “Father, Naath is near to the Basilisk Isles yes? Once we take the archipelago, we could station some of our ships in the islands and have them patrol the waters near Naath. Most of the corsairs that prey on the Naathi would already be removed when we take the Basilisks and the remainder would be deterred by our fleet.

“We could make Naath a protectorate of sorts and negotiate favorable trade deals for us to sell or maybe even produce their butterfly silks, handicrafts, spiced wines and the like. The butterfly fever prevents us from directly holding Naath itself and somehow I doubt our current medicine would solve that. Still the Naathi would likely return to the coasts and as their population recovers, I imagine we could convince many to settle in our colonies in the Basilisk Isles.

“The Summer Islands are another potential source of settlers as well. Their way of warfare exiles the princes who lose their ritual battles along with all their retinues. That’s thousands of exiles who leave the islands every year, exiles we could offer a home in the Basilisk Isles or even sponsor to return to the islands so we can gain more influence there.”

His father had a pleased smile. “Excellent suggestions indeed Jace! If you flip my notes more, you will see I had much the same thoughts.”

Jace smiled back. “So we’re doing it?”

“If you lead the campaign then by all means yes, I don’t have any concerns, well other than the potential dangers in Sothoryos and Gogossos that is. My question to you now though is when? When do you think would be the right time to do this?” His father said.

Jace stopped to think for a while. A part of him was impatient and desired to move as soon as possible but he knew that other things were at stake as well. “After Luke and I get married,” He decided. “It would take years to prepare the expedition for the campaign anyway and in the meantime we have to build a good relationship with our future wives as you made clear the other day. I don’t expect the Targaryens will make any real fuss over the Basilisk Isles of all places but in case they do, we would be safer from any possible reprisal as well if Baela and Rhaena are already part of our family.”

The pride in his father’s face filled Jace with joy. “See Jace? You can do it once you learn. It’s not impossible.”

Jace was very cheery at that. “No indeed.”

“Now I would like you to take what you’ve learned from our talks these past few days, and help your siblings. My conversation with Daeron has made me think that perhaps in their own way, they too are struggling with ambitions, expectations, and worries for an uncertain future of their own. Be a good elder brother and help them out with it will you?”

Jace nodded. “I will Father. Thank you, for everything.”

“You’re welcome. You should get going now. I’ve kept you for too long I believe,” his father said, dismissing him.

He nodded again and got up from his seat, making a split second decision to embrace his father with a warm hug. His father was a bit surprised but returned the hug, wrapping his arms around him. In years gone past, he would barely reach his father’s shoulder but now he was easily the same height as him. It made Jace proud, it symbolized to him that maybe, this was the beginning of his journey to becoming his father’s equal, and then eventually surpassing him.

Leaving the solar, Jace sought out Daeron. He wanted to do as his father had asked him and also take Daeron up on his offer to talk to him about what he had spoken with their father. He had already heard some of it already but it was best he hear it again from his brother himself.

As he walked through the castle however, it was not Daeron he encountered, but his beloved twin, Luke. Smiling, he greeted Luke enthusiastically and walked with him. As he related to him excitedly what he had discussed with their father, a thought occurred to Jace.

Luke had always been there for him, hearing out his ambitions and his complaints, backing him up against any enemy, giving him hard advice he didn’t want to hear even when he got mad at him for it. When was the last time he had done something similar for him? Thinking back on his father’s request, Jace decided that he could try and start now, and who better than with his own twin?

“So Luke, this might sound a bit strange but well, remember that talk I had with Dad a while back? The one on the yacht? The one I told you about? It seems our little brother had a somewhat similar conversation with him today as well and it’s made me wonder. Have you ever felt any great expectations like I and Daeron have? Any particular ambitions or desires? Any shadow you wanted to escape?”

Luke paused. He was thoughtful for a while before he answered. “I suppose I did.”

Jace was very curious now. “What was it, if you don’t mind sharing?”

His twin was a bit hesitant now. “Hmm. Do you recall, how when we were younger, we used to dress ourselves in the same clothes and style our hair the exact same way so we could look as identical as possible?”

“I do,” Jace said wistfully. They used to mess with people using their identical appearances, that was such a laugh back in the day. If he was being honest, it had hurt him a little when Luke had suddenly changed his style and seemed to no longer want to be identical to him but he had never confronted him about it. Perhaps he’d been too afraid to.

His brother saw right through his suddenly dampened mood however. “It upset you I know, and I am sorry about that. I’m grateful though that you accepted it. It was just something I felt I needed to do.”

“Why?” Jace asked and he was surprised at how desperate he sounded. He must have been more hurt by this then he realized. It was such a small thing that happened years ago and yet deep down it still mattered so much to him?

“You say that you feel like you’re in our parents’ shadow Jace, or even of the three of us because we have epithets and you don’t, but until a few years ago, I always felt like I was in yours.”

Jace was confused. Luke laughed at that.

“You don’t understand. It’s alright. I spoke to Mother about it years ago and I’m over it now. It’s something only a younger child can really understand. You’re near as perfect an heir and future Lord Velaryon as can be Jace and because we looked identical, everyone expected me to be the same. Ever since we were born it was always ‘Jace and Luke’ and never just Luke. I’m not proud of it, but I think I grew to resent that. Sometimes it felt like I didn’t have an identity of my own; like I was just your copy, your spare.

“So I changed up how I dressed and styled my hair to make myself look as different from you as possible. I squired for Ser Jaremy and I came to realize what place I wanted in the family. I wanted to have an identity of my own, to be recognizable as separate from you, but at the same time I wanted our bond as brothers, as twins to remain the same, to be your loyal lieutenant until the end of our days and make my own mark with these traits unique to only me.”

Jace absorbed his twin’s words. He hadn’t even allowed himself to voice the thoughts, too afraid of what it meant, but for years he had feared that Luke was ever so slowly drifting away from him. It had started when Luke had begun spending more time in the yard than he due to his other lessons and duties as heir. And then Luke had changed up how he groomed and became so different and so obsessed with loyalty after squiring for Ser Jaremy, it had felt like he was losing what had truly made the relationship between him and Luke special.

Now though, he felt a little reassured. He certainly could relate to wanting to escape someone else’s shadow even if he felt conflicted that the shadow in question was his. “You never told me this.”

“You never asked,” Luke replied. “To be honest, I didn’t want to say it unless I had to. I was worried about how you’d take it.”

Jace shook his head. “You have nothing to fear. It’s perfectly acceptable to me. I was just hurt that I didn’t get even an explanation why and then I buried it out of fear of how you’d react if I brought it up. A part of me has honestly feared we’ve been drifting apart for a few years because of this.”

“Never,” Luke reassured him. “You will always be my brother, my captain, my twin,” he said as he placed his hand on Jace’s shoulder. Jace raised his hand to meet his brother’s and grasped it in thanks.

“I think the past few days have just been good overall at reminding our family of the importance of communication. So many of us have been all lost in things that we should have spoken of years ago,” Luke said.

“You’re right,” Jace agreed. “We should have. It makes me wonder if Laena has anything like this on her mind as well.”

“We can ask her; as good older brothers do.”

“Brilliant idea Luke. It’s so deceptively simple. Why wonder when you can ask and know for sure?” Jace praised.

“Now that we’ve brought up the topic actually, I have a suggestion.” Luke smiled mischievously. “What do you say you and I dress up all similar every now and then? Just like the good old days. We can mess with some people. They wouldn’t even expect it now since it’s been years since we did it last.”

Jace smirked. “Now that brother dear, is the best idea I’ve heard all day.

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Author’s Note: Apologies for the delay! As you can see though, at least we’ve got a chonky 11k chapter to make up for it. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and all the character interactions and hints for the future.