2nd Moon, 8055

Royal Apartments of the Red Keep

It was a warm day as evidenced by sunshine pouring through the open aired window of King Vaemonds chambers, the birds who nested in the gardens of the Red Keep filling the air with their songs.

It meant little and less to the King, who rose from his bed with difficulty, slowly making his way to the window.

Poking his head out of it somewhat he saw the courtyard was just as bustling as usual, servants bringing in various crates, barrels of food and courtly essentials while a small group of black cloaked strangers made their way to the throne room.

Vaemond paid them only a cursory glance, his eyes traveling to the garden past the moat within the castle walls.

Nyel had always loved the gardens, ever since their mother Visenya had showed her the meager gardens on Dragonstone, she had always wanted a garden of her own, and following the construction of the Red Keep, the new gardens had been her domain, with the late Queen taking charge of their design and upkeep.

The thought filled Vaemond with another wave of bitter grief.

I was not meant to live in this world without her He thought to himself before he pulled the drapes closed, blocking the sunshine and sending his room to darkness.

It had been almost a year since Queen Nyels death, and the King, who had already been under considerable stress had been completely devastated and had begun to spiral.

King Vaemond, who had once been renowned as a valiant and skilled warrior had become a shell of himself in truth. He scarcely left the safety of his chambers in Vaemonds Holdfast and had not journeyed even as far as past the moat into the courtyard of the Red Keep since Nyel had been burned, much less into the city. His rides on Moondancer, which had once been regular and frequent had stopped entirely. He had not even made the short walk to attend his faithful Kingsguard Ser Roland Crakehalls funeral, citing something about ‘’enemies in the west’’ and the long dead Loren Lannister.

He spent days at a time in his chambers, alone in the dark in fits of melancholy and sadness, spurning all visitors and servants, even his Kingsguard were not allowed entry. The only individuals he permitted entry were his two granddaughters Lianna and Jaehara, who would read to him for short periods of time before he grew tired and sent them away.

The King spent many of his days sleeping or confined to his bed, in truth he had never been a man possessing many hobbies and had none to distract him from his grief, in his youth he had been a diligent warrior and a common sight in the training yard, while in the years after that he had been a doting father and a dutiful husband, completely devoted to his family.

The years had taken both from him. He had not been seen in the training yard for years now and had long since lost any affinity for martial pursuits. His family too was gone, his brother and closest friend Matarys was years gone, his sister and wife Nyel had perished, while his children had long since left. Vaekar had been gone for months leading another, albeit smaller campaign in the Stepstones, Alyssane was in Highgarden, Laena was in Dragonstone and had not taken the effort to travel to visit since her mothers funeral, and Cymella, also in Dragonstone was estranged from her father due to his perceived cowardice in dealing with Raymont Baratheon.

The only family that remained to him during these dark times were his two wards and granddaughters, Lianna and Jaehara, who while brightening his mood temporarily with their visits could not turn the King from the dark spiral he had entered alone, being just children.

The only activity he partook in besides sleeping was reading. With the King scouring the ancient records and lineages of House Targaryen for hours on end. He once mentioned to his granddaughters he wished for a great tapestry of their family tree to be woven, but he never found the energy to make his wishes known.

It was not just the Kings mood that suffered but also his body and mind. Even in his aging, Vaemond had retained his tall and powerful frame, but now his skin hung loose over him and he had lost much weight. Not only had he lost much of his appetite in the months following the Queen's death, he also refused to eat when he did have an appetite.

He did not explain his reasoning to any, not even the Hand Samwell Tully, in the end he only made passing mention of it to his granddaughter Lianna, mumbling and muttering about treason, treachery and poison. After that, he only ate meals that were brought in person by his granddaughters.

The final deterioration of the King was in his mind, which had begun to wander. He frequently addressed servants by names of individuals long dead, and even mistook old Lord Commander Harold Langward for Corlys Velaryon. He began to mutter about plots, poisoners and unexplained factions lurking in the dark, and often seemed to think the Lions Rebellion was still ongoing.

Even sleep did not bring him peace, with servants reporting he often called out in the night, and once he was found wandering the halls in the dead of night while his Kingsguard were changing the watch, he could have wandered much farther if Ser Theonald had not spotted him and escorted the confused King back to his chambers.

While these states of confusion and delirium were common for the King, Vaemond was lucid this morning. He made his way slowly from the window to his desk, opening the tome Dragons of the Narrow Sea, A History of the Targaryen Dynasty. He had started the book, which detailed the Targaryen family line from their flight from Valyria to Dragonstone.

He flipped through the pages listlessly, in truth he was not in the mood for reading and studying, but there was little else he could do, and he had only just woken up so returning to his bed was out of the question.

A few hours and I will rest Vaemond thought to himself, flipping through the book.

Some time later, the sound of a knock rang through his chambers, startling Vaemond awake, he could not say how long he had been asleep, but it could not have been more than an hour as the morning sun still faintly shone through the blinds.

‘’I do not wish to be disturbed….leave me be’’ Vaemond commanded, his throat parched and voice weak.

‘’It is Lianna grandfather.’’ The voice answered, muffled through the heavy oak door.

He rose from his chair with a tired groan, making his way to the door and opening it slowly.

His granddaughter Lianna stood outside, wearing a dress of white and gold and holding a pitcher of water and some fresh bread from the kitchens.

‘’You are a welcome sight.’’ Vaemond said, not unkindly as she walked in, setting the water and bread upon his desk.

‘’When was the last time you ate grandfather?’’ She demanded.

‘’I have little appetite…’’ He answered before walking to his chair and sitting.

‘’But you will eat nevertheless….’’ She said, with all the sternness of a twelve year old.

Vaemond obliged her, drinking some of the water and taking a few bites of the bread, which was hot from the ovens.

‘’Did you know…your mothers dragon Vhagar was hatched in the reign of Aerys I of Dragonstone?’’ He asked her.

She shook her head.

‘’Well it was…nearly twenty years after Meraxes was hatched in the reign of Gaemon the Glorious…..I had always thought them to be born at the same time…but this tome is clear…Meraxes is much older.’’ The old King prattled on.

His granddaughter said nothing, pouring him another cup of water.

‘’Forgive me child…you did not come here for a history lesson or the musings of an old man…I am sure the Grand Maester keeps you busy enough with such things….I see on your face you wish to ask me something….speak freely Lianna.’’ He said.

She turned to him, crossing her arms.

‘’Men from the Nights Watch have come to court today….they requested the honor of your presence Grandfather.’’ She asked.

‘’I saw them in the courtyard this morning….I am not feeling up to it today….Lord Tully and Lord Merryweather shall handle their visit well I am sure….they are honorable men, more than capable.’’ He said, Vaemond had not sat the Iron Throne or attended a meeting of the small council since Nyels death. In the time since the realm had effectively been ruled by Lord Samwell Tully, Lord of Riverrun and Hand of the King alongside Reynard Merryweather, Lord of Longtable castle and master of coin. Lord Tully, while being rather more martially inclined was an honorable, just, hardworking, and well liked man, more than suited for rulership in peacetime and the realm had seen no significant problems during the unofficial regentship.

Princess Laena, Vaemonds eldest daughter and heir also held the position of spymaster, but chose to remain on her seat in Dragonstone, sending her reports by raven, while Prince Vaekar, the realms master of ships was seldom in the capitol either, currently being involved on a small campaign in the Stepstones against pirates.

‘’They asked for you grandfather.’’ Lianna persisted.

‘’I am ill Lianna….I will not sit the throne until I am feeling my usual self….I see you are dressed for court…do not hold back on my account….one of the Kingsguard will escort you if you wish to attend court dear.’’ Vaemond said, forcing himself to smile before returning to his book.

She turned to leave before stopping suddenly ‘’Grandfather.’’

Vaemond turned.

‘’My mother sent me here so that you might show me how to rule….and yet I cannot learn if you spend all your time in your chambers….Lord Tully and Lord Merryweather are honorable men…but they are not you.’’ She said.

Vaemond was silent for a good while, and his granddaughter turned once again to leave, but he stood up.

‘’You have a sharp tongue child……but an honest one….that is good….a ruler…a King must be honest…both to his people and to himself….the same goes for Queens…that is your first lesson.’’ He said, rising from his seat ‘’And you have reminded me of my duty…I have not done as I promised your mother I would.’’

‘’Does that mean’’ She began and Vaemond nodded.

‘’We are going to court…help me with my cloak.’’ He said, and Lianna nodded, pulling a faded and dusty cloak from the wall that had not been used in over a year.

She helped drape it over his shoulders and he opened the door to the hallway.

The two newest members of the Kingsguard had the watch, Ser Arron Crakehall and Ser Bryce Woyne, both of which had been appointed and confirmed by Hand of the King Samwell Tully.

Ser Arron Crakehall was the younger cousin of the late Ser Roland Crakehall, sharing the latters size, strength, and skill at arms. With Lord Tully stating that since Ser Roland had proven to be such a fine and leal knight, House Crakehall would once again represent the Westerlands in the Kingsguard.

Ser Bryce Woyne was the knight chosen as the newest representative of the Riverlands, replacing Ser Roderick Mooton who had been slain fighting pirates in the Stepstones. Unlike the aforementioned Arron Crakehall, Ser Bryce Woyne came from no great stock, being a simple hedge knight, but he was famous in the Riverlands for leading a band of vigilantes that protected peasants and villages, hunting down bandits and bringing lawbreakers to justice. Lord Tully, a riverlander himself no doubt saw the benefit of having such a famed and renowned knight represent his own lands.

A replacement for Ser Ryon Wells had also been selected, with this time Lord Tully appointing a northern knight of a house worshiping the seven, though Ser Wylis Wells was currently accompanying Prince Vaekar in the Stepstones.

‘’My King.’’ the young Crakehall knight said, bowing his head.

‘’I will sit the throne today my good knights.’’ Vaemond said, and the two men nodded.

It was not a great distance from the apartments of Vaemonds holdfast to the Throne Room of the Red Keep, yet nevertheless the trip left the King feeling drained by the time they reached the hallway of the throne room, passing by the large tapestry Vaemond had commissioned, detailing his fathers coronation in Oldtown.

He felt even more overwhelmed as he made his way inside the huge cavernous throne room, sunlight shining through the large stained glass windows as he made his way towards the towering throne.

Lord Tully was seated on the throne, with Lord Merryweather sitting below the throne in front of a small desk, a quill and parchment in front of him, no doubt economic records and accounts.

Lord Tully rose from the throne as they approached.

‘’Forgive the lack of ceremony your Grace….we were not expecting your presence.’’ Lord Tully said with a short bow of his head.

‘’I had not thought to be here….but even a King has duties he must fufill.’’ Vaemond said, giving a small smile to his granddaughter.

His smile disappeared as he came even closer to the throne, looking at the steps. For the first time he was aware of all the eyes of the court upon him all of them surely focused on him. For a moment Vaemond wanted nothing more than to flee back to his chambers, back to his books and peaceful quiet, but he had made a promise.

‘’Let me grandfather.’’ His granddaughter Lianna was at his side in an instant, grabbing his arm and helping him up the staired walk to the throne, halfway down Lord Tully also lended his strength and they were able to place the old King upon the throne.

It had been well over a year since Vaemond had sat his fathers throne, and he was more aware than ever of the spikes and jagged endings of the swords on the throne, forcing him to hunch forward slightly to avoid being cut, but eventually he found a position where impalement seemed unlikely.

He nodded to Samwell Tully, who ordered the session continue.

The contingent from the Nights Watch approached the throne room, led by an older sturdy man dressed in faded blacks, the party bowed before Vaemond motioned them to their feet, mindful not to cut himself on the jagged edges.

‘’Your Grace….I am Ser Tyrion, head recruiter for Castle Black and the Nights Watch.’’ The man said.

‘’Be welcome Ser Tyrion.’’ The King responded, still uncomfortable with all the eyes upon him from the court.

‘’I come at the behest of Lord Commander Stevyn Snow…..a Wildling warlord named by his people as Lam Hornblower has united the majority of the Wildling clans, I know these names mean little to you your Grace…but the Ice Rivermen, Hornfoots, Thenns…all of them under a single banner.’’ The man began before continuing.

‘’The Lord Commander means to ride beyond the wall and put an end to this ‘’Hornblower’’, to scatter his army and burn his camps…the wall is well manned and not lacking in resources, but any support from the crown…’’

‘’You shall have it…..Lord Merryweather shall see that you are provided with wagons of grain and spears to take with you upon your return….take any men from the dungeons you have a use for, and let it be known in any castle, town or hamlet you pass through that they are encouraged to follow the crowns example in this.’’ Vaemond said.

The brothers of the night's watch bowed gracefully and withdrew.

The next group of petitioners were two dornish knights, bearing surcoats with a black gate on yellow, the colors of house Yronwood.

They relayed to the King the tale of the fall of the House of Yronwood. Their house's strength had of course been almost completely destroyed following the burning of Yronwood during Vaemonds father Aegon the Conqueror's conquest of Dorne, a burning that had seen most of the house perish.

It seemed that the house was doomed to destruction following this, but they had made a rather surprising comeback when two Yronwoods with Vaith ancestry had spurned the aforementioned house and taken the name of their mother, thus preserving the survival of the House of Yronwood.

This resurgence was short lived however, two of the Vaith Yronwoods died at young ages, with poison being suspected, while there was a younger Vaith Yronwood, a young child…another house was waiting in the wings to claim the rich lands.

House Drinkwater of Vultures Roost had presented the claim of one of its members to the reigning Lady Deira Martell, Ser Jordan Drinkwater, a grandson of Lord Yoren Yronwood by his eldest daughter, Lord Yoren had been the last pureblooded Yronwood lord who had died of injuries sustained by Dragonfire in the dornish war.

Lady Deira had supported the claim of Ser Jordan Drinkwater over the young Vaith Yronwood boy, who was smuggled away into hiding lest he meet the same fate as his brothers. Ser Jordan Drinkwater would promptly take the sigil of the Yronwoods and declare himself Lord Yorens natural heir, though in truth the Drinkwaters of Vultures Roost ruled through him as a puppet.

These two dornish knights were sons of the Vaith Yronwood child who had been smuggled away, and declared to the King they were the true heirs of Yronwood and all its surrounding lands, and despite the Drinkwaters Yronwood ancestry and the fact that the Yronwood seed was strong in them, with their bright yellow hair and piercing blue eyes…. They were little more than imposters.

Vaemond had forgotten how tedious court could be, but nevertheless managed to follow along before delivering a verdict, he would not risk war or conflict in Dorne by supporting their claims through war, but he would ensure the survival of their house by having a towerhouse built for them, which would pass from generation to generation.

The knights looked disappointed yet nevertheless bowed and left the hall. King Vaemond felt a wave of exhaustion rising in him.

Vaemond turned to Lord Tully ‘’I am tired Orys….you can see to the other petitioners today I am sure.’’

The Hand of the King took the Kings confusing of him with his predecessor with grace and nodded, and the knights of the Kingsguard and Princess Lianna escorted him back to his chambers.

‘’You did well Grandfather.’’ Lianna said, taking his arm and leading him through the halls of the royal apartments.

‘’You will be wanting to know why I did what I did?’’ Vaemond asked.

His granddaughter nodded.

‘’A King….or Queen must always be open handed with their subjects….reward good service and your vassals shall reward you with loyalty…..withhold it and they shall do the same.’’ He explained.

‘’Why did you gift the Yronwoods with a keep, what service had they done you?’’ Lianna asked.

Vaemond paused a moment, considering his answer ‘’My father always spoke of the burning of the Yronwoods as a terrible event….he never intended for it to happen…..the downfall of their house truly started with our dragons….today, in our own small way…we have repaid that debt.’’

‘’It was for justice you did it then?’’ The girl asked.

Vaemond gave a sad smile ‘’You have your great grandsires temperament child….yes…I suppose it was justice.’’

Kissing him on the cheek, Princess Lianna left him at his chambers where the King returned to his bed and his dreams of better days.

Those in the King's inner circle hoped that this sudden appearance at court would mark an improvement in the King's mood, and for a short time it did serve to energize him, but before long he had fallen back into solitude and melancholy.

That day was the last that King Vaemond would ever sit the Iron Throne, and following this short appearance the realm would continue to be governed by Lord Samwell Tully and Lord Merryweather.

11th Moon, 8060

Garden of Dragonstone

The smell of pine needles was heavy on the crisp air as the morning's proceedings began as a fog from the narrow sea rolled in, obscuring the garden in a thin mist.

Vaemonds eyes passed over the garden that had been his mothers once, his gaze resting on the dragon statue in the center, faded due to the winds and salty air, but still just as he remembered.

The last time he had seen it had been decades earlier when he, his father, and mother had entered the garden to find Nyel with her newly hatched dragon Narrah, the memory still vivid as the day it had happened, despite the years.

As ever when he thought of Nyel and the past a pang of sadness hit him, dulled by the years but still noticeable. Soon enough the Old King thought to himself.

This time however, he was not in the garden to see a dragon born, but rather a dragon married.

The couple made a rather odd pairing, the woman, slender and beautiful, her silver hair seemingly shimmering in the mist, dressed in black silk and rubies, while the man was big, burly, and lacking the woman's attractive features was also dressed in a black tunic with a shining crystal necklace of the seven pointed star and a belt of heavy yellow sapphires.

The individuals in question were Princess Lianna of Dragonstone, eldest daughter to Princess Laena, heir apparent to the Iron Throne and Ronnel Baratheon, grandson of the late Orys Baratheon and brother to Raymont Baratheon, Lord of Storms End.

The match had been Laenas idea, with the alliance between Storms End in question due to Raymont Baraethon and Cymellas estrangement, Laena sought to affirm the alliance between the two houses between a marriage between her eldest daughter and the grandson of Orys Baratheon. She had also confided in him that it would do good to have a Baratheon close at hand should Raymont Baratheon cause any trouble…she was still furious over his striking of her sister Cymella.

The couple were very different. Lianna had grown into a very beautiful young woman through the years, with large purple eyes, smooth skin and shining silver hair. The rather diminutive princess stood in contrast to Ronnel Baratheon who was tall and strapping in typical Baratheon fashion, with a mop of black curls and a thick mustache. Unfortunately just as the gods had blessed him with a powerful stature, they had humbled him with a harelip. While his mustache covered much of it, it was noticeable enough that no one would ever call the man handsome.Despite their differences, the two seemed amiable enough, both having a just temperament.

Vaemond had to admit his daughter had chosen the match well, Lianna might very well be Queen one day due to Laenas insistence that the girl Daeoril would be her last child. That meant that Ronnel Baratheon would likely one day serve as King Consort and perhaps Liannas hand. Vaemond had of course spoken to the man to get a sense of who his granddaughter and ward of many years would be marrying, and he had to admit the man's sense of justice would be well suited for the role, and while he was no great tactician, he was a good sword and had been educated in the basics of administration.

Vaemond coughed suddenly, sneezing into his elbow. In truth the trip to Dragonstone had nearly killed him. He had spent the last six years in the comfort and isolation of his chambers, and the trip across the narrow sea had been a great shock to him. When old Harold Langward had asked if he might perhaps be more comfortable flying on Moondancer however, Vaemond had paled at the thought and dismissed it, he had not flown the snow white dragon in years and it was whispered that the king feared the dragon he had once been so close with.

‘’Are you well Grandfather?’’ Jaehaera asked him rather frantically, getting a look in her eyes that seemed as if she expected him to collapse right in front of her.

He patted her shoulder ‘’I am fine child…..your sister is being wed today…..it fills this old mans heart with happiness.’’

In truth, despite the occasion, Vaemond felt very little emotion at all, and even the reunion with his family had not invigorated him as it once had, in the previous years his memory had improved somewhat and he did go for short walks occasionally, but there was a great emptiness and sadness in the king, with some servants later confiding that it seemed as if the old man was just waiting for death.

As the couple slowly made their way through the gardens, Vaemond looked at the crowd and at his family.

Laenas family was all in attendance, his daughter stood next to the twins Syaella and Vaella, now 13 years of age, they at least had remembered him and Vaella had even expressed a disappointment that she had not been sent as a ward, claiming that Dragonstone was terribly boring compared to the capitol.

The youngest two girls, Larissa and Daeoril stood next to their father Jaekar. The King's reunion, or rather introduction to these two had been shorter and more awkward. He had only met Larrissa a handful of times several years ago, most recently during Nyels funeral when she was an infant, and he had never before met Daeoril. He tried his best to be friendly with them, but it was clear Larrisa had no memory of him, and the girl Daeoril was painfully shy.

I have not been much of a Grandfather to them He thought to himself, another regret that the years had inflicted upon him.

Cymella was also in attendance, though she refused to speak with Vaemond despite several attempts, and would not even look him in the eye, she still had not forgiven him for his leniency towards Raymont Baratheons abuse and refusal to order Raymont to send their child Boros to reunite with his mother.

Rounding out the crowd was Ronnel Baratheons Waynwood mother, though his brother Raymont had not attended for obvious reasons.

Notably absent were Vaekar and Alyssane. Alyssane had wished to make the trip but was mourning the loss of another stillborn daughter and did not feel up to it. Vaekar for his part had offered vague excuses as to why he would not make the trip but refused to elaborate for his decision to remain in the capitol.

Vaemond was shaken from his brooding as the crowd slowly started to move from the garden to the small sept of Dragonstone after the Septon had welcomed them all.

The ceremony was a blur after that to Vaemond, who had trouble keeping his eyes open through the septons words and the singing that followed. There was no bedding ceremony as Laena had declared her daughter was not some brood mare but rather a future Queen of the Kingdoms and was entitled to privacy and dignity.

Following this Vaemond would retire to his chambers on the island, stating that he would remain on Dragonstone until he had regained his strength to travel by sea back to the capitol.

Two Weeks Later

Castle of Dragonstone

Laena took the wine glass and walked over to the balcony, watching the waves below slowly hit the black walls of Dragonstone.

Her sister Cymella lounged on a cushioned chair behind her, wine glass in hand, enjoying the rare warm and sunny day on the narrow sea.

‘’It is time to make our preparations……’’ Laena said simply, still facing the sea.

‘’Hmmm?’’ Her sister questioned, pulling a grape from her plate.

‘’Our father will never leave Dragonstone….the time is almost upon us….you know this…do not play the fool with me.’’ Laena said, more sharply than she had intended.

‘’No need to get cross….this was apparent from the moment he arrived, it was your plan was it not…to bring him here?’’ Cymella pouted.

Laena nodded slowly….the decision to hold the wedding on Dragonstone as opposed to in the capitol had been a calculated decision, she knew her father well enough to know his strength was fading, and a conversation with his Maester had confirmed it…he did not have long. Therefore she had decided it was best to keep her father close at hand as to react faster to the inevitable.

‘’He should be close to family……’’ She stated finally.

‘’Now it is my turn to remind you not to play the fool with me….you hide your intentions between a veil of good will…but you and I know the true reason…..Vaekar must not learn of the Kings death before our plans have been put in motion.’’ Cymella chided.

Laena closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her sister had been staying on Dragonstone for nearly six years now, and in that time the two had made up for their age difference and bonded, forming a friendship that had not been possible when they were younger, but the two women were both hot headed and strong willed, leading to occasional bickering.

‘’There are multiple reasons for every action Cymella….both can be true…now enough of your snide remarks sister….the time for listening is now.’’ Laena said firmly.

Cymella did not deign to respond to that, plucking another grape from the platter.

‘’Vaekar has allies at court……my informants tell me that Samwell Tully, our fathers hand has expressed some support to our dear brother.’’ Laena began.

‘’Then why leave them alone at court….who knows what they are plotting.’’ Cymella cried out.

Laena raised a hand for calm ‘’Lord Tully is as honorable as he is just….he would never make a move against fathers wishes while his King still draws breath….and even then my sources say it is not outright rebellion Lord Tully plots but rather a council to determine the best course of action for the realm…..he sees Vaekar as the rightful heir…the firstborn son.’’

‘’How comforting.’’ Cymella said.

‘’Nevertheless, you are right…I would be a fool to leave the capitol in such unsteady hands…which is why I must have someone I can trust in the capital…representing my interests.’’ Laena said, turning with a knowing gaze to her sister.

‘’You want me to go to King's Landing?’’ Cymella asked.

Laena nodded ‘’You and Ronnel Baratheon.’’

Cymella laughed ‘’And what cause would I need your daughters pup for.’’

Laena made her way back to the balcony table and handed a parchment to her sister, sealed with a red dragon seal.

‘’A signed declaration from father….appointing Ronnel Baratheon the new commander of the Dragon Cloaks…the red keeps guard, some 200 strong.’’ Laena explained.

‘’With a single stroke of a pen father has granted you the Dragon Cloaks….well done….what is your plan?’’ Cymella asked.

Laena sighed, while she had come to care for her younger sister, she sometimes forgot that her sister did not share her intelligence.

‘’I had hoped it would be apparent…..when our father dies…I will close the port of Dragonstone….no word of his death will leave this island until I will it….when he has passed I will send a trusted messenger by ship, my bard and spymaster to deliver you word…when it has passed, you will instruct Ronnel to order his Dragon Cloaks to take control of the keep, and take Vaekar and Lord Tully into custody.’’ Laena explained.

‘’What is to be done with them?’’ Cymella asked nonchalantly.

‘’Lord Tully is near sixty years old…..his time is growing short…it is true I would prefer his head on a spike…but he is well liked amongst the realm…I will grant him the mercy of a tower cell for the rest of his days….his son and heir is married to my husband Jaekars own sister Daena…House Tully will give us no further problems.’’ Laena replied.

‘’And Vaekar?’’ Cymella asked.

Laena paused for a moment ‘’There will be much to discuss….whatever his ambition he is our own blood…but I will consider all options….all of them.’’

Cymella nodded ‘’You have my support sister…I will do as you ask….but I want something in return.’’

Laena had been expecting this ‘’Raymont Baratheon?’’ she replied without surprise.

Cymella nodded ‘’I want that ugly toad dead……promise me his death and my loyalty is yours forever…mine and that of my son Boros….the future Lord of Storm's End.’’

‘’I cannot promise you his head on a platter….a good deal of subtlety is needed for such endeavors dear sister….but I can promise you his death….consider it done.’’ Laena said.

Cymella smiled and raised her wine cup ‘’To the House of the Dragon.’’

Laena raised her own cup as the sun slowly set on the Narrow Sea.

4th Moon, 8061

King Vaemonds Chambers, Dragonstone

The sea was churning below his feet, a cold gray monster swallowing all that entered it, chips of wood and bits of canvas sail whirling in the wind, he felt himself falling as he did so often in his dreams.

Before the sea took him however he landed with a thud on the back of that great beast….looking up he saw his father, a hand on his shoulder, a sad stern smile on his face.

All around him the memories of his past flashed through his mind, his brother Matarys, bruised and crying, hovering over a cat as Dalton Wynch landed blow after blow upon him.

On an island under the light of a moon, a small dragon white as snow coiled as a rowboat approached.

He saw a small silver haired infant with flakes of pastry on his mouth, giggling as he reached out towards a butterfly.

The memories came faster and faster, a desperate fight in the swamps of the whispers, Blackfyre in his hand, a band of pirates roaring as they leapt from a boat…a heavy thunk of a crossbow and a flash of pain in his neck.

He saw himself talking to a young girl beneath the shadow of the Iron Throne.

Faster and faster they come and he could scarcely focus enough on each one to understand them.

Then he saw Nyel…..they were both young…so young, and he remembered the event as being the first night they had shared together.

I have missed you He thought, a sharp pain of sadness and longing coursing through him.

And I you the figure responded, a sad smile upon her face as she drew closer to him.

Vaemond reached out to embrace her cheek and held it there, a tingling feeling buzzing around him.

He felt a numbness in his body, a bright light engulfing his sight.

Suddenly she removed his hand from his cheek…gently but firmly, the light slowly dissipating.

Not yet She said as the vision slowly began to fade.

‘’Wait….Wait.’’ The King mumbled before he shot awake….drenched in sweat and emitting a feeble shout.

When the servants came running into the room, Vaemond said nothing but ask for his daughter.

Laena came shortly after, clearly woken from sleep, her hair tousled and eyes tired.

‘’What is it father.’’ She asked gently, sitting beside him on the bed.

‘’Cymella…..I wa..want to see Cymella.’’ He said slowly.

‘’She is in King's Landing….it was just a dream….go back to sleep.’’ She said.

‘’No…No.’’ He said, grasping her hand as she rose from the bed.

‘’Please……please.’’ He said, struggling to keep his eyes open.

His daughter was silent for a long time before nodding, taking his hand with both of hers ‘’I will send for her.’’

The King drifted in and out of consciousness for six days, speaking with Laena, Jaekar and each of his granddaughters individually when he was cognisant, bidding a tearful goodbye with Jaehara and spending much of the days with Lianna, who personally took over his care.

On the sixth day, Cymella arrived from King's Landing to which Vaemond extended a feeble hand and asked for her forgiveness. The Princess Cymella did not say anything but simply took his own hand in his own.

The King asked after Vaekar, but Cymella had given her sister a knowing look and stated that he had put out to sea before news of the summons had reached the capitol.

The King's reconciliation with Cymella would be the last event of his life.

The next morning, Vaemond the Strong, First of his name, son of Aegon the Conqueror, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men was found dead in his bed, passing into the annals of history after forty five years of ruling.

He was 58 years old.

g

Following the Old Kings death, Laena Targaryen would close the port of Dragonstone preventing any news of Vaemonds death from reaching the capitol. Two days later, Laena would fly from Dragonstone to Kings Landing on dragon back, entering the courtyard of the Red Keep on the back of Vhagar without warning and declaring herself Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Prince Vaekar, who had been in the capitol all along and had never been informed of his fathers summons or failing health was taken by surprise and confined to a tower cell by Dragon Cloaks under the command of Ronnel Baratheon, while as luck would have it Samwell Tully, Hand of the King and Lord of Riverrrun would not be present in the capitol, as he was dealing with an issue of rulership, Laena would strip him of his title of Hand of the King and Lord Tully would go into self imposed exile in Riverrun.

Thus began the rule of Laena, Queen of Skulls.

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