Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 500: Every Family Has Its Own Difficult Experiences

Chapter 500: Every Family Has Its Own Difficult Experiences

High Tide.

The castle forecourt, flanked by a few ancient, gnarled trees, was strewn with a carpet of dead, yellow leaves. The scene had an air of somberness and desolation.

Rhaegar scanned the castle grounds, his eyes searching for a familiar face.

The gate creaked open, and several figures with silver hair emerged, full of enthusiasm.

Daeron, running ahead, threw his arms wide with a joyful shout. “Brother, you’ve finally arrived!”

“Your Grace!” came the warm response from Baela and Rhaena, who trailed slightly behind. They offered cheerful curtsies, their smiles genuine.

Rhaegar clapped his youngest brother on the back with a hearty thud. “Not bad, Daeron. You’ve grown quite strong.”

“I train a lot with Lord Sea Snake,” Daeron replied, his voice deepening with the authority befitting his royal status.

“There’s always room for improvement,” Rhaegar said with a smile, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight of his youngest brother, whom he had guided with great care.

At 12 years old, Daeron had already developed into a young teenager, well-read and diligent in his studies. Rhaegar, mindful of avoiding the fate of Vaegon the Dragonless, had arranged for Daeron to serve as a cupbearer on Driftmark at the Sea Snake’s request earlier in the year. The Sea Snake, a seasoned veteran of the seas, had trained Daeron rigorously.

Aegon and Aemond approached, exchanging updates on each other’s well-being, while Rhaenyra introduced her adopted daughters for the first time.

“Is this the little sister mentioned in the letter?” Baela asked, her curiosity piqued as she gently poked the swaddling clothes, her finger brushing the baby’s tiny face.

“Oooooh~” The little one, Visenya, stirred slightly in her sleep, her head turning away in mild irritation.

“May I hold her?” Rhaena asked, her voice filled with affection as she eagerly reached out.

Rhaenyra, observing her thoughtful foster daughters, offered a warm smile and gently instructed, “Be careful not to wake her.”

Her three sons, including Maekar, had been accustomed to flying with her on the back of a dragon, their laughter filling the air. But her daughter was different. The dragon’s back served as a cradle, and Visenya slept soundly, undisturbed by the flight.

After exchanging pleasantries, Daeron took the lead, guiding them past the guards with a sense of urgency. “Aunt is waiting for us. Please, come in.”

...

Hall of Nine

When the royal party arrived, it was already well past the hour. Having dismounted their dragons, they had changed into clean, fresh attire, free of any odor.

Inside the Hall of Nine, Sea Snake was reclining sideways on the driftwood throne, his chest bare. The Maester was carefully removing the gauze, revealing a gruesome sight.

Rhaegar’s gaze was drawn to the gauze, stained with blood and pus. Sea Snake’s face, as dark as pitch, turned towards the entrance as he noticed the visitors. His thick lips were pale, and his expression was one of strained welcome.

“Your Grace!” Sea Snake attempted to rise and salute but was clearly in too much pain.

“Corlys,” Rhaenys interjected, stepping forward to gently restrain her husband. “You shouldn't exert yourself.”

"I'm not that fragile," Sea Snake replied in a dry, strained voice as he struggled to stand.

Rhaegar, watching the scene with a sideways glance, remained impassive.

"Your presence has honored High Tide, Your Grace," Sea Snake managed as he dropped to one knee, his head bowed in submission.

From his elevated position, Rhaegar could see the extent of Sea Snake's injuries: a deep, gaping wound stretching from his left shoulder to his right lower abdomen, with ribs just barely visible beneath the torn flesh. The rest of his body bore numerous smaller scars.

Rhaegar's heart tightened with concern. He bent down to assist Sea Snake, his voice laced with worry. “How did you come by such severe injuries? Were you not patrolling the Disputed Lands?”

Sea Snake’s eyes, hard as stones, flashed with anger. “It was a deliberate ambush by pirates from Volantis, allied with the slave-trading fleet from Slaver’s Bay.”

Rhaegar's brow furrowed as he processed this information. “So the remnants of the Triarchy are involved, working with Volantis. They must have ulterior motives.”

Aemond, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, spoke with a chilling calm. “The shipping lanes in the Disputed Lands are becoming increasingly contested. Ships from Volantis and Slaver’s Bay will have to pay tolls, and we may face fewer resource wars.”

"It is better to avoid unnecessary conflict," Aegon added, his voice rising slightly. "We still owe a debt to the Iron Vault. A war would set our economy back a decade."

As someone who had run the Stepstones for years, Aegon was well aware of the financial implications.

Aemond dismissed Aegon’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “They’re just a bunch of opportunists. Sooner or later, they’ll have to face consequences.”

Rhaegar intervened, raising a hand to quell the bickering. “Let us first hear Lord Corlys’ perspective. He’s the one directly facing these threats.”

Sea Snake, visibly weakened but still rational, nodded in agreement. "I agree with Prince Aemond. They must be taught a lesson."

Aemond puffed out his chest, brimming with confidence. "Give me a fleet and Sheepstealer, and I'll burn their forces to the ground."

Having fought alongside his dragon for years, Aemond’s combat prowess was on par with Rhaegar, Daemon, and other top-tier dragonlords.

Rhaegar did not lift his gaze, but addressed the matter at hand with a hint of weariness. "There will be an opportunity to act. There is no need to rush."

He had long considered the wild dragons of the Smoking Sea, but had been restrained by the realities of his position. As king, he understood the gravity of waging war.

The treasury is empy!

Braavos, Pentos, and other Free Cities are closely watching House Targaryen, wary of the potential for a resurgence of another Freehold Empire. Targaryen’s influence is spreading too thinly, causing them to become mired in the Disputed Lands, the critical shipping route between the East and West continents of Essos. Engaging in war would invite numerous unforeseen conflicts.

Even with the abundance of dragons in the region, defending the Free Cities is a constant challenge. The foundations laid through years of effort must not be jeopardized by enemy sneak attacks or destruction. It’s essential to choose the right moment to strike.

For now, Rhaegar remains steadfast and cautious.

With a gesture of polite concern, Rhaegar helped Sea Snake back to his driftwood throne. Sea Snake's movements were stiff, his face contorted in pain as the Maester quickly applied medicine and bandages.

Rhaegar asked, "Lord Corlys, do you understand the purpose of my visit?"

Sea Snake grimaced, his face dark with frustration. "There are some reckless individuals among my kin. I must address them first."

Rhaenys, rolling her eyes, withdrew her veil and added, “Several of your nephews are engaged in clandestine dealings while you’re away.”

“I will address it in detail,” Sea Snake replied, his helplessness evident in his response to his wife.

Rhaenys shook her head, clearly displeased.

Understanding that a family meeting was approaching, Rhaegar decided it was best to take his leave. "Please concentrate on your recovery. We'll take a tour of the island in the meantime."

Such is the nature of noble houses. Sea Snake, as the head of the houses, needed to talk with his family to devise a suitable plan for dealing with the situation. The importance of his nephews in the direct line made this necessary.

Rhaegar was aware of this and refrained from intervening prematurely. Once the Sea Snake and his nephews had settled their affairs, Rhaegar would take further action. His current visit to Driftmark was primarily a deterrent.

With Sea Snake still receiving treatment, it was inconveniente prolonging his stay, "I appreciate Your Grace for the trip, please look forward to Prince Daeron showing you around Hull and Spicetown."

Rhaegar, with nothing to lose, nodded politely to Rhaenys.

Rhaenys inquired with genuine concern, "I heard Rhaenyra went into labor. Meleys still has one of her dragon eggs from her last clutch. Shall I place it in the newborn's cradle?"

Rhaegar politely declined, "There is no need. Baelon and Aemon have already chosen a green dragon egg from Syrax's clutch."

Syrax had laid two clutches in six years. The first clutch had two eggs, and the second, recently laid, had three. Meleys, though lethargic, had laid her eggs before Maekar was born, and the two eggs inherited their mother's dark red color.

Rhaenys had arranged for these eggs to be sent to King's Landing for the crown's consideration. Rhaegar, appreciating his aunt's gesture, decided to keep one of the eggs for his son, Maekar, and leave the other in her care.

Rhaenys remarked, “Pairing Visenya with a green dragon egg seems like a stroke of fate.”

Rhaegar laughed softly. “Ultimately, it’s up to the children. The hatching of dragon eggs is a matter of chance.”

Rhaenys, curious, asked, “Have Baelon’s dragon egg not yet hatched?”

Aemon’s dragon eggs had hatched on the day he was born, and the young dragon was approaching adolescence. Baelon’s egg, however, was slow to respond.

"Not yet, but he has his own ways," Rhaegar replied. "I've also considered taming a young dragon for Maekar when he's older."

It was unusual that, despite having six children, only one of his three sons had successfully hatched a dragon egg. It was a curious anomaly, given their dragon blood.

“It’s a good idea. The young dragons in the Dragonpit are highly sought after,” Rhaenys agreed.

Stormcloud and Tyraxes, the first to hatch, along with the fierce black hatchling, were all impressive in their own right.

After exchanging pleasantries, Rhaegar took his leave. Rhaenys, enthusiastic and warm, escorted her nieces and nephews out of the Hall of Nine.

Years of effort had restored the relationship between House Targaryen and House Velaryon. Rhaegar’s decision to name his second son Aemon, honoring his aunt who had recently lost her own son, played a significant role in mending their bond.

...

Rhaegar and his entourage departed, leaving the hall behind.

Rhaenys returned to her husband with a sigh. "Why didn't you ask Daemon and Laena to go with you? It's a miracle you made it back safely."

“Daemon?” Sea Snake sneered at the mention of his son-in-law and former ally. “He spends his days chasing women. I’d be more concerned about him perishing in some woman's embrace than on the battlefield.”

Despite his high status as a prince, Daemon had proven unreliable. Even as a Ranger Prince, he seemed to have forgotten the responsibilities that came with his position.

Rhaenys remained silent, her gaze fixed on her husband with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

Sea Snake, feeling her stare, shifted uncomfortably. “Laena is struggling with Lys. She’s barely managing to hold things together.”

Rhaenys’s expression softened as she reflected on the situation. “It’s true that Rhaena’s claim to inheritance has been questioned. When such important matters arise, it’s telling that the adoptive parents are present, while the biological parents are not.”

Sea Snake, taken aback by Rhaenys' realization, tried to justify his actions. "Laena is young; she'll find her way eventually."

"Maybe", Rhaenys, no longer holding high expectations, nodded in resignation.

...

The old High Tide site was a relic of the past - an obsolete fortress located southeast of Driftmark. Abandoned for decades, it was built against a cliff and constructed of a mixture of stone and brick.

Originally the stronghold of House Velaryon, it fell into disrepair after Sea Snake's many voyages brought the wealth necessary to build the current High Tide. The old fortress, now damp and dilapidated, was eventually abandoned in favor of the new construction.

Following her marriage with Sea Snake, Rhaenys had repurposed the old site into a temporary Dragonpit.

At present, Baela, clad in a black dragon armor, led the way to this makeshift Dragonpit. Baelon and Aemon followed close behind, while the gentle Rhaena trailed behind, cradling the youngest, Maekar.

A sudden roar echoed through the dragonpit, startling the group of young children. Baelon glanced over to see a magnificent dragon with cobalt blue scales slowly emerge from the stone cave on the seaward side of the pit.