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(Dorne, Sunspear, POV 3rd)
The sun hung high in the sky of Dorne, casting long shadows as it blazed down upon the majestic castle of Sunspear, the seat of House Nymeros Martell.
It wasn't an uncommon thing for Dorne to have such a hot day; what was odd was how the servants of the castle seemed to be in a hurry, moving back and forth, completing tasks left and right.
If anyone were to witness this scene, they might think that honored guests were arriving at the castle. Yet that was not the case. All this preparation was happening because of one man—and one man only—who was currently in one of the many chambers of the castle.
The man stood next to the open window, which allowed the heat of the sun to pour in, bringing a light sheen of sweat to his forehead.
He stood there, watching the horizon in anticipation, as his hand moved to his mouth to wipe the sweat that had gathered on his lip. As he did so, the guard stationed at the door couldn't help but notice the gleaming ring on the man's finger—a ring shaped like a dragon.
But the guard didn't have time to dwell on such matters when he heard the flapping of wings approaching. The sound grew louder, and he watched as the man, whom he was meant to guard, stood up straighter, his body language betraying anticipation.
A shadow then fell across the window, and a flying creature came to a halt on the railing.
The guard was so shocked he could not help but exclaim, in a low voice, "My Prince?" in a questioning manner. Before he could say more, the man by the window approached the bird—a large eagle—and unwrapped the cylinder-shaped satchel it carried.
The man retrieved a missive from the eagle's satchel, then gently petted the creature, murmuring, "Thank you, Arrow," before feeding the bird a snack. The eagle bowed in appreciation, then flew off, returning to its master, back to Dragonstone.
The man—who we now know as Prince Caspian—stood by the window for a moment longer before turning on his heel and briskly walking toward his desk. He sat down and broke the wax seal on the missive.
Carefully unwrapping the parchment, he made sure not to move too quickly, mindful not to tear the message. As he fully revealed the letter, his eyes landed on the curious guard standing by the door, watching his every move with confusion.
Noticing this, the prince beckoned the guard closer. The man's large form approached the desk slowly, spear in hand, his face marked with a questioning gaze.
"Sa'id," the prince said, addressing the guard by name.
Sa'id snapped to attention, worry still evident in his posture.
The prince shook his head, seeing his uptight guard. "At ease, Sa'id. How many times must I tell you not to be so uptight?" he said in a familiar tone, showing a deeper bond between them.
The guard, hearing his prince's words, slowly relaxed his tense shoulders. He took in the form of the young prince—once a boy under his charge, now a cunning warrior. Caspian had changed, and though his family might have grown wary of him, Sa'id saw only the boy who had once been bullied by his sisters, the boy who had lived in the shadows of his siblings.
"I apologize, Prince Caspian. It's just..." He paused, looking at the parchment now neatly unfurled on the table. The writing on it was foreign to him, something he couldn't understand.
The prince, noticing Sa'id's hesitation, gently grabbed the parchment and waved it in the air, a gesture of dismissal. "You're worried about this?" he asked.
The guard nodded, his worry clear in his expression. "You already have enough things on your plate after coming back from your trip to Essos. Many in the household whisper about you, my prince... about you and the unknown band of warriors you've brought with you to the castle."
Sa'id's voice was filled with concern, and the prince patiently drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for his trusted guard to finish speaking.
"It's becoming clear that your sisters—especially your eldest—see you as a threat now, my prince. And if that wasn't enough, you have unknown people sending you missives. Do you see my worry?" Sa'id explained, urgency in his tone.
Prince Caspian hummed in understanding. "Yes, I see your worry, Sa'id," he said, locking his blue eyes—which were uncommon for Dornish people—with those of his aging guard, a man who had been with him for years. "But can you trust me? Trust that I am doing something that will only benefit both myself and everyone in this household?" His gaze was intense, as though his eyes could pierce through the very man before him.
Sa'id, feeling the weight of his prince's stare, swallowed nervously. But then he saw the small quirk of a smile on Caspian's lips, and the tension in his body slowly eased. He inclined his head in respect, responding, "I understand, my prince. I trust you."
That broke the tension in the room, and the prince flashed a grin, showing his teeth. "Good," he said shortly before leaning in to whisper, "Now, let's see what the lord has to say."
With that, the prince brought the parchment to eye level, and Sa'id, hearing him refer to "the lord," found himself confused.
Prince Caspian began reading the contents of the letter aloud.
The Blind Dragon's Call
The dragon sleeps beneath the stars,
His wings await, his spirit scars.
Every whisper, every trace,
Winds of change, they leave no place.
His heart beats fast, he knows the call,
Eyes closed, yet he sees it all.
Ending darkness, bringing light,
Love will guide him through the night.
Silence speaks, the moment near.
He waits for it, the time is clear,
Actions swift, no turning back,
Voices guide him on the track.
Every breath, his heart beats loud.
Secrets hidden in the crowd,
Though blind, his eyes will see,
Action calls, and so shall he.
Rising now, to take his place,
The wheel turns, he sets the pace.
Every path, a journey true,
Dragon's flight, the skies in view....
As Prince Caspian finished reading the poem, his eyes skimmed the writing once more to decode the message hidden within it, which read:
THE WHEELS HAVE STARTED TO TURN, BLOOD BROTHER. I WILL INFORM YOU WHEN TO TAKE ACTION. YOURS TRULY, THE BLIND DRAGON.
As he read the message, his eyes widened in surprise—not because of the message hidden in the poem, for he was already used to his lord corresponding in this cryptic way—but because of the speed with which the plans would need to be put into action.
Caspian looked up at his guard, who stood there confused by the prince receiving a poem about dragons. Then, unexpectedly, Caspian began laughing out loud, startling the aging guard who stood by the desk.
"The lord never stops with his eccentric messages," the prince said aloud, further confusing the guard. "Sa'id, call the two men standing guard outside the chamber," he commanded.
Sa'id nodded before crossing the room with brisk steps, opening the chamber doors, and saying something to the two guards who wore different armor from the Martell household guards.
The two guards and Sa'id stepped into the room before walking to stand in front of the desk where Caspian sat.
"Fourth General," both men saluted, placing their closed fists on their chests, where their hearts were supposed to be.
Caspian, with a smirk on his face, looked them over, his eyes briefly stopping on Sa'id, who stood behind the two guards wearing the same armor as the famous warriors of the sell-sword company known as the Sons of Dragons.
"Give the men orders to stand by," Caspian said cryptically. The two soldiers inclined their heads before turning on their heels and exiting the chamber with synchronized steps.
Sa'id could only stand there in worry, knowing that what was about to come was serious. But as he looked at his prince, who was once again reading the parchment, he steeled his nerves, trusting in him. Because the boy he had known and raised was a competent man, and if what he thought Caspian was planning was about to happen, he would follow him—even if it meant he might end up in the grave.
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POV(Vealor)
"Be careful with that candle, Joffrey," I watched Lucerys say, as he walked on his new prosthetic leg, which Yue had commissioned and designed for him.
I stood on the second-floor platform, away from prying eyes, watching as the little ones—Aegon, Viserys, and Joffrey—played together, while Lucerys practiced walking and made sure our little brothers weren't harming themselves.
It was a peaceful sight, and I was content with just watching, my senses taking it all in—hearing the small heartbeats, fast and joyful, completely unaware of the cruel world we lived in.
This scene was why I fought for the future, so that my own children might grow up in peace, surrounded by love, never needing to worry about war or its horrors.
"Why do you watch them so keenly?" I heard Heleana's voice behind me, with Merdyth at her side. She came to stand next to me, locking her hand with mine.
"Whatever do you mean, Vezhven ābrazh?" I asked Heleana, turning to her and feeling the way she squinted her eyes in a familiar way.
"You never approach them, from what I have observed. Your little brothers, I mean. Why is that?" She asked, coming closer than she needed to, her body pressing against mine, a feeling of empathy wafting from her.
Observing the children who were playing contentedly on the floor below, oblivious to my presence, I could not help but feel a small sting in my heart—the reality of why I couldn't be with them.
"I… do not think they would find my presence pleasant," I revealed my worry as Merdyth flinched in her spot, not used to seeing this side of me.
Heleana was the only one, other than Yue, who truly understood me, so I did not cower from such questions when it came to her.
Merdyth, however, was not used to such things.
Heleana brought her hand to my masked face and gently guided it so that our faces were parallel to each other. "You know that is not true, Vealor," she said with a gentle voice, a small smile gracing her face. "From what I have seen, Joffrey adores you for giving him that Valyrian steel dagger he carries around everywhere. And the two babes—Aegon and Viserys—would only benefit from their eldest brother being with them." She finished, her words full of truth, though I couldn't help but notice her tense shoulders as she spoke.
"She is right, my lord," I heard Merdyth speak from beside us. She realized she had interrupted a moment between me and my fiancée.
Heleana, who noticed this, coughed into her arm to get my attention, saving Merdyth, who was scratching her head in a sheepish manner.
"Do not think such thoughts, and make sure to spend some time with your brothers. I know they would only benefit from it," she added, though it was clear to me she was feeling down from the way her voice had an undertone of what I could only decipher as sadness.
Standing there, facing her, I focused all of my senses on her. It slowly became clear to me that something was bothering her. Her shoulders were tense, her hands were a little shaky and jittery, and she was being sensitive to the sounds the children were making, flinching ever so slightly when Joffrey made an exclamation.
Seeing me go silent, I noticed Heleana's eyes darting around, and it became even clearer to me that something was upsetting my betrothed.
As I observed all of this, I closed in on her face, making sure to stop just an inch away so my mask didn't hit her. Her eyes averted my mask as I asked her, "What is bothering you?" She flinched in response.
There was a moment of silence between us as we both stayed locked in our positions before Heleana sighed in resignation.
"You noticed, huh?" She asked, sighing once more as her shoulders sagged, this time averting my masked face with her eyes.
"How could I not, when it's so obvious?" I said, shaking my head a little. "Here you are, trying to comfort me, when in truth it is you who needs comfort." I said, and Heleana turned away from my face as she let go of me, while I gently grabbed the hand that was backing away from my face.
"Come, Vezhven ābrazh, tell me, what is it?" I urged her, this time getting a reaction as her form, once composed, slowly lost the hold she had. While I acted quickly, embracing her to shield her from Merdyth, so she wouldn't see her breaking down.
"I… I miss Dreamfyre," she said softly, while I made sure to keep the embrace tight enough so only I could see her sad visage.
"Hmm," I hummed in understanding. It was a hard thing for a Targaryen to be away from their dragons for too long, and Heleana had been away from Dreamfyre for far too long.
"When I watch you on Abraxas in the sky, helping Rheana get used to Vermithor… it makes me miss my time with Dreamfyre," she said, keeping her head down while I comforted her by stroking her back lightly.
"Heleana, look at me," I whispered to her. The girl slowly raised her head from where she had it hidden on my chest as I gently brushed her reddening cheeks.
"Do not worry about Dreamfyre. You two will be reunited soon enough, okay?" I told my betrothed, who this time held her gaze on my masked face. "In the meantime, you can ride with me and Abraxas. How does that sound to you?" I continued, and Heleana widened her eyes for a moment before a small smile graced her lips, and she nodded a little.
"Good," I said to her, smiling as well, while Merdyth, who had stood by us this whole time, looked at us in confusion, not knowing what had just transpired.
The atmosphere was broken, however, by the sound of approaching footsteps, which I knew belonged to Yue, who came to a stop next to his wife, holding a letter in hand.
"My lord," he said cautiously, seeing the precarious position I was in, before Heleana smiled and whispered, "It's fine, duty comes first." To which I tightened my embrace on her for a moment in understanding, before slowly letting her go and taking the letter from Yue, who extended it to me.
"It's from Ignis, my lord," he said shortly, as I nodded and opened the letter, moving my fingers along the letter to read the slowly unfolding text from Ignis.
"He says he scattered the first company throughout the Crownlands, keeping the bulk of the men in the Darklyn territory," I said. Yue nodded as he replied, "That's smart. It would show our support to the lord while still keeping the original plan in mind. Do you want me to send a correspondence, my lord?"
I shook my head lightly, thinking of the next best course of action. "No need. I will do it myself," I said, turning to Heleana, who now stood with a much calmer demeanor.
"In the meantime, I think I will go say hi to my little brothers. Would you join me?" I asked, extending my hand.
Heleana, hearing what I said, did not hesitate as she took my hand with a smile on her face.
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Harrenhall (POV,3rd)
It was chaos.
That's what Jecearys thought as he stood in the dining room, which they had fashioned into a temporary council room.
The circular table was full of lords from all around the Riverlands, each displaying their house colors and coats of arms in one way or another.
There was Lord Simon Strong, sitting next to Daemon, who seemed to be lost in one of his daydreams. To Daemon's left was a boy not much younger than Jecearys himself, with red Tully hair. This was Ser Oscar Tully, the representative sent by Lord Grover Tully, who was currently too ill to move around as he wished.
Next to Ser Oscar sat a lord whom many in the room respected—Lord Walderan Mallister, the Lord of Seaguard. His arrival had come as a surprise to many, though it wasn't unexpected for Daemon or Jecearys, who knew that Lord Walderan had been brought into the fold early on by Vealor himself.
However, Lord Bracken was more than surprised when he arrived at Harrenhal to find Lord Walderan already present. Apparently, he had thought that Jecearys's earlier statement had been a mere hoax to get him on their side, but alas, that was not the case.
The last two lords who sat next to each other were the loudest of the bunch, constantly disagreeing and throwing japes at each other.
These were Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood, and from the way they seemed to constantly be at each other's throats, Jecearys thought they would get into a sword fight at any moment.
Lord Simon, who had a feeling things would get out of hand if the two lords weren't stopped, decided to steer the conversation into a more productive direction.
He turned to look at Daemon's lost visage before asking, "So then, Your Grace, what will be our next move?" This seemed to jolt Daemon right out of his musings, though for a moment it seemed like he had lost his bearings again.
Jecearys, seeing the state Daemon seemed to be in, decided to step forward and address the lords himself.
"My lords, first I would like to thank you all for being present here. I know my mother will be pleased to hear that the mightiest lords in the Riverlands have pledged their swords to her," Jecearys began, making sure to compliment the lords to rub their egos a little.
As he observed the way they seemed to be pleased with themselves, he could tell he had gotten through to them.
"Though we are not even close to rallying the whole of the Riverlands, the greens do not have a significant army as of yet. But if the news I have received from my elder brother from Dragonstone is anything to go by, the Lords Lannister and Hightower are building large forces in both the West and the South." Jecearys gave them a rundown as the lords looked between each other in concern.
"What of the other lords who have pledged to the queen? Where do they stand?" the young Simon asked as Jecearys turned to look at him.
"I personally treated with Lord Cregane Stark, and he has promised a large force of greybeards who, from the news, are currently marching south." But as Jecearys finished, Lord Bracken scoffed.
"What will a bunch of old cunts do down here in the South? Lord Cregane sends crow feed," he said, realizing he may have overstepped as Lord Mallister gave him a pointed look.
Jecearys, who was a little annoyed by the way Lord Bracken interrupted him, composed himself before saying, "I trust that Lord Cregane is an honorable enough man that he would send capable warriors. Besides, there are many other lords here in the Riverlands who are still undecided." Jecearys said, turning his gaze back to the young Lord Simon. "Will Lord Tully be able to send word to the other lords to come and bend the knee?" he asked, the young lord giving an unsure look.
"That is not something I can say for sure, my prince. My grandfather is currently ill and bedridden, most of the time delirious from the milk of the poppy the maester gives him," he revealed, showing a downcast expression.
Lord Mallister, hearing the young Simon's answer, leaned into the table before asking, "Are you not his heir, young man?" To which Lord Simon nodded, though hesitantly.
"Then is it not within your power to call the lords to bend? From what you have said, the lord does not have much time left to live. You will have to start fulfilling your duties early on," Lord Walderan finished, as the young Simon shook his head.
"My grandfather still lives, my lord. I cannot, in good conscience, rule while he still breathes," Lord Simon said in a tone that suggested he wanted to talk about something else.
Lord Mallister hummed in understanding before clasping the shoulder of the young Simon, Jecearys watching the interaction in silence.
"I understand your hesitation, lad. Believe me, I do. I myself inherited Seaguard when my father was still alive, and it was a responsibility I could do without." Lord Mallister said, getting the attention of the young lord, who had a conflicted look.
"But it is in this time when your lord grandfather needs you the most—same as my father needed me to become his regent when he was ill. This transition is a part of most of the lives of previous and current lords, so do not let fear stop you from filling the shoes you were already meant to fill, lad." As Lord Mallister stopped speaking, it became clear to all who were in the room that the lord, even though he comforted the lad in good conscience, still manipulated him in a way that would be unnoticed by others but noticeable to some.
Jecearys, who saw the young lord still contemplating, decided to say his piece before ending the first of many meetings.
"Be that as it may, my lords, we need to start acting quickly to rally some of the lords who are willing to pledge allegiance to our cause. I was thinking I would start with Lord Frey. If I can get his allegiance, that means the northern army won't have to go around the Trident." Jecearys shared his thoughts, his eyes scanning the room as they briefly stopped on where Daemon sat, staring into the air as though seeing a ghost.
"A good idea, my prince," Lord Mallister said, while both Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood said, "Aye," still getting used to the fact that they were on the same side.
"Good, meeting dismissed," Jecearys finished, as the lords all stood up and bowed to him to show respect.
Jecearys did not know it, but the way he was starting to carry himself and the attention he demanded every time he spoke was slowly building him up to become a leading figure, and all the lords currently in the room were witnessing his growth.
And this was what Vealor wanted: for his younger brother to grow into himself, so that one day, when he sat on the Iron Throne, he would have him as a Hand.
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