Chapter 10 Part 1

101 AC, Braavos

Aegon leaned forward and looked over the contract they'd offered after a few days of deliberation, his eyes sweeping across the page before turning to the next one.

"The terms are fair." Thorello Aenerris, the Sealord of Braavos commented.

Aegon looked up from the contract and leaned back in his chair, his eyes cold and his expression as stony as a rock. His gaze trailed towards the other three keyholders present in the room. He felt their eyes on him as if their gazes were real, tangible touches, prodding and poking with interest but also caution.

 "I see." Aegon said calmly, his expression not changing an inch. Aegon stood up, his thin lips stretching in a façade of a smile. 

"I thank you for your time, Sealord Aenerris. Keyholders." Aegon with a mild dip of the head and it caused Aenerris to show a flash of surprise, a surprise that he observed was felt by two keyholders.

The third one, Jaqados Pahrelar kept his mild appraising expression.

"It is unfortunate we wasted each other's time" Aegon said and Bartimos, Cedrick and Prince Jalla rose from their own seats as he began to walk towards the doors.

But before he reached the doors, he heard the feet of the chairs scraping and the voice of the Sealord. "You're leaving?"

Aegon continued on until his hand was on the door handle at which point he turned around. "I am." Aegon said calmly as he met the Sealord's eyes.

"I cannot agree to the terms of the contract that you believe to be fair. If that is what you believe to be fair then there is nothing else that we can discuss about." Aegon told the Sealord. The terms of the contract were not fair, not even close.

With what he was proposing to Braavos would enable Braavos to monumentally become a centre of industry all whilst at the same time tanking an important sector of Myr that Aegon expect them to swallow whole the entire industry within five years at the most. 

You see, he'd figured out a way to make clear glass after a year and half of experimenting with a few trusted people, like Edwyn, a former acolyte of Elysar and who'd been with him since Elysar had died.

With what he knew – thank you Ravenscroft and English Early Modern History class – and what Edwyn had known about the process, creating rudimentary glass had been simple enough, relatively speaking…it was just getting the clarity and stopping the strange crizzling from taking place that took ninety-five percent of the time. 

It was only after extensive experimenting with calcites from limestone found around the Bay of Crabs, red lead mined from the Westerlands no one had any use for and Dragonstone quartz found from the cooled rocks around Dragonmont, that they'd finally managed to find the right ingredients and more importantly the right mixture to get clear(er) glass and hopefully, a mixture that would result in glass that would remain unreactive to anything even if a decade were to pass.

It was not the kind of clarity he'd like but it was close enough.

Aegon glanced at the glass cup that water could barely be seen through along with the pane of glass that placed onto the table, both made through errors and trialling of techniques that honestly was a lot more stumbling than it was purposeful.

It was a game changer – when it came to the matters of the glass industry.

Idly, he mused, a game changer too scientifically speaking but that was probably a couple of centuries away even if he'd figured out more to 'invent' to help things move ahead. The ongoing experimentations of spyglasses fitted with refractive glasses was a good step but he was far away from Germ Theory and the like. 

Aegon turned his gaze back to Aenerris and cleared his mind of distant leaps.

Myr was famous for its glassmaking and were, effectively, the only place where glass could be purchased…either by design or through lack of technical knowhow.

…which likely also by design.

They made chandeliers, gemstones made from glass, mirrors, and even fine, almost transparent glass but…even their best clear glass still had bubbles or were clouded.

The Starks' glasshouses were of this kind, he had read, thick panes of glass that heavily relied on the warmth of the hot springs to offset the limited amount of light and warmth that passed through the panes. 

His glass…he mused as he resisted to break eye contact and glance at the glass cup. 

His glass didn't suffer from that lack of clarity. It was highly refractive and stronger than the glass of similar wall thickness and more importantly, he knew that it would sell greatly. Hearing the glass ring so pleasantly that first time was great, and he could practically hear the gold coins falling.

It would be the signature sound of good quality.

And Braavos had the capabilities to industrialise to a scale that very few cities would be able to achieve and in a strange poetic way, Aegon thought that it was very fitting for the Venetian-like city to make glassmaking its own much like Venice had done. 

Of course, that was only poetic and a happenstance.

He came to Braavos with this offer in mind – to give them the method and production rights in exchange for twenty carracks – three with copper hull plating, gold and a forty percent ownership of the glass-making industry using his method.

Demanding half of ownership might have worked at the beginning but if he was right, and he thought he was, a great deal of wealth would be generated that would cause issues down the line. Greed went hand in hand with power and he'd rather limit motives for seeking…alternative means of getting rid of him.

After all…he was still a Dragonlord and they the descendants of those who escaped out Valyria's grasps. Though there hasn't been issues between his family and the Braavosi for over a century, there was still that legacy of history.

And history had its claws that reached beyond generations as long it is remembered.

In any case, the counter offer was insulting given what Braavos would have in their hands. Edwyn suggested that glassmaking in Myr accounting for at least a fourth of their economy.

With this…Braavos would have in their hands the chance to become even more powerful and wealthier which would accompany the chance to leverage and/or the chance to sink Myr's glassmaking industry. 

And Aenerris and the keyholders knew this too.

"This is a fair offer. Where else would you go?" Aenerris questioned keenly, his eyes boring into Aegon. Aegon let go of the door handle and turned around fully. 

"Perhaps to Volantis?" Pahrelar inquired curiously, drawing Aegon's attentions.

Volantis wouldn't be an option for him and Pahrelar knew that too, from the way his eyes bored into Aegon, from a pure sensible point of view. A weak Volantis was paramount to every other Free City and Aegon had little doubt that Myr would hear of this before any of his ships passed through the Stepstones.

"Or perhaps even Qohor." Pahrelar added. 

Qohor was only an option in theory. 

Great industry, great skill and certainly possess the ability to keep glassmaking a secret but they were ill-suited if only for the fact that they would not be able to resist the Triarchy's fury let alone the fury of Myr.

Qohor relied on sells-swords and Unsullied to defend their city which was only from other bands of sells-swords in truth. The city sat on the banks of the River Qhoyne and its high walls protected it from the likes of the Dothraki barbarians but against an actually well-provisioned army Myr would undoubtedly call upon?

"No one else would offer this generously." Aenerris said with a shake of the head, as if they were doing him a great favour. Aegon smiled thinly.

 "I doubt very much that other Free Cities would not better your offer. I'm quite sure Pentos would not be adverse to welcome a much needed income stream." The lack of change in Aenerris' expression looked forced and Aegon could sense that it was a dangerous point as the tension within the room thickened.

Thus far, Braavos was slowly suffocating sea trade with Pentos and the debt the Free City had with Braavos as a consequence of the war in 86 AC was significant.

That being said, the Pentoshi were not a pushover like Qohor. Their funds were low in comparison to Braavos, Qohor or Myr but they still possessed a standing army, a slave army but an army nonetheless, that almost rivalled Myr in strength.

Pentos could recover with the glassmaking industry, especially if they sought closer ties to Westeros and the other Free Cities excepting the Triarchy and Braavos.

And the Braavosi knew it too and it was not something they would see happen if they had any influence on the matter at all. Fortunately for everyone involved, he had little interest of igniting the shit-show that would come such an agreement.

Aegon continued calmly with quiet certainty. "But I have my principles and so I shall invest the time and effort to grow the business myself in Kings Landing."

Principles that they would understand without him having to say it.

People knew him as a just and honourable and blessed man, The Prince of the Commons as a consequence of his actions on Dragonstone and Kings Landing.

A reputation he'd painstakingly built over the past few years following the mess he'd made with his stupid stubbornness.

Dragonstone saw most of his improvements implemented and the island had grown both in wealth and people though the people were mostly orphans from Kings Landing but also from the purchase of slaves from Lys with the wealth he'd earned with the income of his trade ships and tourney monies.

Thus far, he'd created this façade ably and he had time still – the children were too young yet – and he had trusted competent people, to grow the glassmaking business in Westeros for substantially greater return in investment. 

The likes of House Darklyn and House Rosby would leap at the chance of joining up with his family to establish a native glassmaking industry should he or grandfather dangle the opportunity before their eyes.

Whilst his grandfather preferred – a preference Aegon shared for Braavos would take the ire of Myr – not to build the glassmaking industry in Kings Landing and the surrounding cities or towns so as to avoid invoking the ire of the Triarchy that was growing more dangerous as the moons passed, he was growing weary of them and the slights they subjected the realm to with their ever rising tolls.

The negatives of giving more reasons for the Triarchy to stay aligned was, for the moment, greater than the positives of having a native glassmaking industry according to Jaehaerys. True he supposed, after all, taking glassmaking from Myr would be an escalation to a quiet conflict that House Targaryen could do without.

Especially with the House of the Dragon only just recovering its perceived strength and stability in the form of his father and the coming generation. 

Throwing much needed peace away needlessly was not wanted nor sought and his grandfather made that clear along with his expectations and what he deemed acceptable regardless of what he wanted.

Aenerris looked at him for a long moment before he exchanging looks with the other keyholders, silently communicating, before he looked back at Aegon and spoke up. 

"If you sit, we can discuss a…fairer agreement?" Aenerris gestured to the clerk that had stood as still as the ornaments figurines at the back of the meeting room. The clerk picked up a stack of papers, quill in hand. 

Aegon smiled inwardly.

By the time they were done, six days later, Aegon got most of what he wanted, four hundred thousand gold dragons instead of the six hundred thousand but he got the ships and ownership percentages fixed at thirty percent along with at cost supply of glassware with a maximum annual weight limit for his family in Kings Landing. 

Three copies of the contract were made…one for his purposes, one to be stored within the Red Keep vaults and another to be kept at the Iron Bank.

A quarter of the share of ownership would be deposited in House Targaryen's account whilst a half would be deposited in Aegon's name and his descendants whilst the last quarter would be delivered to the Royal Vault in Kings Landing.

The gold itself would go with him to Dragonstone when he departed.

The contract itself was worded in such a way that prevented Braavos from setting up other means to circumvent ownership rights, such establishing industries beyond Braavos, and intrinsically tied it to Braavos' own capacity – and those under its sphere of influence – to tax and collect payment from the industry that produced goods with the method or the methods inspired by the method he created.

There were obviously no patent laws in either Westeros or Essos – one of the main damn reasons why assassinations were almost a good business practice – so he had to work hard to get them to agree to this.

Those terms had been his own terms built upon that of his grandfather and it had been the reason why it dragged on for so long. It surprised them and gave air that they were insulted by the insinuations on their honour but Aegon argued that their successors may not be so honourable and he did not want to leave it to chance.

In the end they agreed but not without terms of their own.

For example, there were wordings in the contract prohibiting him or House Targaryen from 'conducting in matters of business that may damage the industry' but he'd confined such wordings to mean only business with regards to the glassmaking industry.

It wasn't the only terms and clauses that Aenerris and the keyholders added in to protect the interests of the Iron Bank, like allowing the Braavosi to buy out his shares in the company, which he didn't mind at all if they activated the clauses to enable them to do it, but all in all, it was a victory that satisfied him. 

After all…

Half of the reason why he came to Braavos was to develop a relationship with the Iron Bank that he could build upon in the coming years and it was getting to a good start since he was invited to dine with Aenerris and his family with Bartimos Celtigar, Prince Jalla, an all-but-exiled Summer Islander with claims to Wallano and Cedrick, his squire.

Aenerris had five children, three sons and two daughters though only two sons and one daughter were present, all three children below the age of ten, the others were older and no longer lived with the Sealord at the Palace.

He answered the children's questions, of which there were many – Can I fly with you on the dragon! How does Braavos look from the skies – and did so kindly.

Some time after the dinner had finished, Aenerris asked him to have a drink with him, alone, and he obliged. There was some idle chat, some conversation about Westeros – which the man seemed to be quite interested in, especially the Velaryons – before talking about his own family and his own rise and then the conversation veered to the state of Essos.

Particularly when came the Triarchy, otherwise known as the Kingdom of the Three Whores by some of the more unsavoury lots at court. 

The Triarchy had grown bolder in their activities in the Stepstones. Tolls were increased just as slaving activities had increased. Women, girls and boys were taken by the slavers and it was largely the Lysene that were taking them. Johanna Swann, a young girl not even one and ten, had been one of them two years ago and to this day, that was where she remained.

"Yes, the situation with the Triarchy is troublesome." Aenerris said with a frown before he drank of his mulled wine. He spoke again once he'd set the cup down onto the table and looked at Aegon. "Troublesome but not problematic."

Aegon smiled at the Sealord "Of course." Aegon said as he leaned back in his chair, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Not that it has a chance of turning problematic, does it?" Aegon rhetorically posed. 

"After all, your ships go by without the additional tolls." 

The Triarchy only increased their tolls on Westerosi ships and other non-Free City ships – with the exception of Volantis – which was part of the reason why people thought that the Triarchy were insulting Westeros and urged action.

There would be no action. Not while Jaehaerys was still on the throne. Not unless it became untenable and the irritation became an undeniable slight to the Iron Throne.

Aenerris smiled faintly but said nothing else to his comment.

Even if the relationship between Braavos and the rest of the Free Cities was antagonistic, business wise? The Free Cities would hardly anger Braavos without it being a last resort. Of course, mayhaps that would change soon enough…

Aegon smiled to his silence and understanding passed between them.

"I have to say that surprised that you truly did not approach Pentos with this invention." Aenerris idly stated, changing the subject after a few moments of silence before drinking of his cup. He continued, a spark of intrigue in his eyes "You were right about them. They would have offered better terms than we have." 

As if Braavos wouldn't do everything they could to prevent it…just as it was certain that Myr would come to know soon enough that he was the source of the invention.

"Telling me that I made a bad business deal after the contract is signed is poor form" Aegon commented with a raised eyebrow, causing Aenerris to chuckle slightly.

"It is not a bad business deal." Aenerris said with an easy smile. "We are both happy with the deal and such instances can never be considered bad business."

Aegon looked at the man with a weary but amused look. "So said the man who may have offered a golden coated coin to a languished and poor fisherman."

At this, Aenerris laughed a little, his easy smile growing. "I hardly think that is a fair analogy to use." Aegon only gave a faint smile in response.

Aenerris shook his head good-naturedly. 

"Besides, a man who purchases slaves only to set them free and grant them livelihoods and roofs over their heads would not found it so easy to get into bed with slavers." Aenerris stated with implied assessment on his nature.

Aegon said nothing for a few moments. 

He'd known that the offer he'd been prepared to walk away from had been influenced by his actions. As someone who viewed commoners as more than just resources. As someone who lifted up the standard of living of those under his care.

When it came to business – and politics – taking advantage of someone's nature was as equally a valid, however dishonourable or ugly, strategy as taking advantage of someone's weaknesses. 

This was done in his world and it was done here even more so.

But Aegon knew his weaknesses and the weaknesses others perceived him to have.

"That is true." Aegon admitted before he eyed Aenerris carefully "It is not difficult to understand that I would prefer not to enrich slavers if I do not have to." Aegon said as he drank of his cup. He set the cup back on the table and eyed the Sealord.

"But the world is a cruel place, Sealord Aenerris. We both know that ultimately security and safety of our people matter more than personal interest or principles." Aegon stated, his eyes never breaking contact from the Sealord.

"Braavos understands this and knows it better than most."

At this, Aegon noticed Aenerris' lost a little of his smile. For all of Braavos' – and the Iron Bank by extension – pride as a truly free city, it held no difficulty in continuing its deep web of business interests Braavos had with the other Free Cities.

His understanding of the Century of Blood, read from books written from authors across Essos along with the books written by Maesters, was extensive and he'd extrapolated and probably surmised rightly that the Braavosi had 'gamed' the era exceedingly well and now bore the fruits of that chaos.

Trade to Braavos was now the main shipping route in Western Essos and the Iron Bank over the past two hundred years had grown astronomically whilst Volantis' power shrunk incredibly when at the start of the century post Doom they were a superpower armed with rudderless Valyrian armies and a population of Valyrians that looked to Volantis for leadership and was seen to be the heir to the Freehold.

Both, the armies and the people, were now more or less gone.

"Quite." Aenerris only said with the incline of the head, his expression almost unreadable as he scrutinised Aegon. 

The conversation after that turned back into friendlier conversation points, interests and Aegon's impressions of Braavos. He'd been in the city just over a fortnight now and he had the chance to see most of it. It was a truly great city, far better than Kings Landing and Lannisport with only Old Town comparable in quality, and it was clearly Venetian in image – and in soul if he was telling the truth.

A privateering mercantilist city that had claws stretching to the other side of the seas.

The next day, Aegon was walking back to the docking bay with Bartimos, Prince Jalla, Cedrick and six personal guards. He was glad to leave Braavos, its very air seemed to disagree with him.

He'd handed over the notes, the prototypes and all else the Braavosi needed to start work before they'd made way to the ship. 

The gold would be delivered to him whilst the ships would be delivered to him at Dragonstone.

Bartimos commented "I wouldn't think they'd agree to so much. I thought they'd push greater on the gold and ownership."

He knew that the combination of the potential for monopoly of superior product and economically weakening Myr being enough for them to jump off of their reticence of sharing that much of the ownership with Aegon.

They'd even offered gold in excessive of two million for full ownership when he wouldn't budge on the terms of the ownership.

"It was in their benefit to strike a deal. They stand to gain too much to let the deal pass through their fingers by being obstinate on things they can easily relent on"

For all of Aenerris' laissez faire attitude when it came to the Triarchy, any sound of mind in his position would want the opportunity to weaken their opponents.

This served to do that whilst also increasing the wealth of Braavos. 

Even if they didn't have total control.

"Besides" Aegon continued with a grim smile, his eyes roving around as they reached a more secluded path towards their docked ship "It's not as if they can't deal with me and Edwyn and the others at a later date." 

After all, it was in their benefit for there to be as few individuals knowing behind the secret of clear glass. The comment startled Bartimos and Cedrick. 

Cedrick asked concerned "You think they would really act so dishonourably?" 

Aegon looked at his squire.

It wasn't a question of 'How could act so dishonourably' but more gauging the danger level they were in. The boy was anything but naïve when it came to some of the harsh realities of things. 

Being born and raised as a 'Kings Landing Rat' will do that to you.

"Yes." Aegon simply said before he glanced at Bartimos darkly. 

"Seven may keep a secret if six of them are dead." 

Personally, he didn't think they'd do anything like that at present but he wanted to his people to understand, intimately, that honour could not be expected from your opponents, whether they may be business partners or enemies.

Aegon shared a glance with the silent Prince Jalla who knew it all too well.

Honour was a currency, a luxurious currency and a virtue that worked in Westeros. To a degree. A luxury created by Westerosi history and culture to guarantee a code of behaviour in lieu of law that Essos did not want to know or cared for or had need to create in the huge shadows cast by the Valyrian Freehold and the centuries since its fall, where strength and shifting interests provided a semblance of order.

One might think that Westeros was fundamentally better, then, when it came to the good that came from honour and the social cohesion that came with it.

Even had he not known of the tragedies and the atrocities committed by the time of Game of Thrones, Aegon had known Earth's medieval history – Europe's history – well enough to know that such codes of behaviours existing did not mean much.

Whilst honour was a neutral good, a good that bound those who believed in it, and wished others to believe they had, ultimately it was rare to truly see it manifest itself in people when it mattered the most.

Both in the chivalric sense and in the trust form of the idea of honour.

The chivalric honour most highborn in Westeros had was a veneer, a social mask that even the knights and lords in the Reach, the heart of chivalry, wore. Masks that would break under the slightest, discomforting pressure when faced with a difficult choice between what was easy and what was right.

Personal interest overwrote loyalty, gallantry to women forgotten in times of war and mercy to the defeated and weak lost in the haze of anger and vengefulness.

Aegon didn't sneer at this. 

After all…was he not like them? Had he not forsaken his honour when he'd been so ready to burn down castles to pressure Beings to give answers he was desperate for?

A forsaking of honour and integrity that would continue now that he had a family that he loved and cared for and depended on him even if he'd try his best to hide his misdoings from them.

A feeling of acceptance passed through him as he walked further onto the path he, and fate, set him upon. Who he wanted to be now mattered far less than who he needed to be. The wish to be a man that his children and their children could and should be proud of versus the man he needed to be to ensure their safety at all costs.

The desire to be worthy of the loyalty the people of Dragonstone were giving him versus the desire to exploit them for his own ambitions and plans.

The façade people knew him to be versus the person that he knew himself to be.

Hmm…

Once, he'd been prepared to kill hundreds of innocent people in his desperation, throwing away his decency, his integrity, his honour. Now?

He didn't think he had limits to what kind of atrocities he'd commit for or allow to happen for the sake of his family.

'There is always hope' rang in his ears, the resolute voice of Aragorn ringing in his ears. Aegon sighed. If only it were that easy, Aegon mused to himself.

After all…this was Planetos.

A place where Tolkien Good always triumphing over Evil was a tale as true as there being a hidden magical Valyrian enclave in the bowels of the remains of the Valyrian Peninsula.

A world that may well be touched frequently by Gods that Lovecraftian monsters would happily come to call affectionately 'little brothers'.

To keep his family safe in a world like this whilst holding true to the philosophies of Aragorn and what he'd been taught in his old life was beyond Aegon and mayhaps even beyond Aragorn himself.

No, such philosophies and codes were not for him…they were for those who come after him.

Bartimos paled slightly at that before he grimly nodded. 

"You should have gone to the Velaryons." Bartimos muttered before continuing "the King might not want the hassle to deal with the Essosi but the Velaryons…they're strong enough and have the connections to deal with the Essosi."

Aegon kept silent to that. They both knew realistically that couldn't happen. Not with the way tension was fraught between House Targaryen and House Velaryon.

Some of it his doing. 

Dragonstone was receiving heavy investment by the Crown along with that of his own investment which stemmed from the income of trades ships of his own, and its shipyards almost complete. 

Trade was increasing evermore as the days went by and it swallowed, though insignificant but still notable and rising to become significant, trade from Driftmark and even some of the neighbouring Houses.

Jaehaerys had not acted directly – nor created laws – when it came to the subject of Dragonlords and whom had the right to be one but he was working to subtly reduce the financial muscle of the Velaryons whilst increasing that of House Targaryen's.

With Aemma miscarrying thrice more in the last two years, the realities that she'd be unable to provide a male heir to Viserys was truly dawning on Jaehaerys and had tasked him and his father Baelon a number of different things including the tasks to develop both Kings Landing and Dragonstone as worthy seats of power.

The fear of his 'dreams' were ever-present on Jaehaerys' mind and he found himself called to Kings Landing, more often than he'd liked, to converse with his grandfather and father about matters pertaining to their House.

Unfortunately, one outcome he'd not guessed Jaehaerys would go as far as demanding was his order for Daemon to sire children on Rhea Royce, which he did and she'd sired a son just three moons ago and Jaehaerys immediately betrothed his nephew Baelon the Younger to Rhaenyra after Aegon remained steadfastly firm on not allowing any of his sons to be betrothed to Rhaenyra.

Not the effect that he wanted to have but at least it was change. 

Change that might well be important if anything else didn't change.

Though he doubted nothing else would change given the effects that he's had thus far.

Viserys was more involved with Baelon and the King too, having more or less permanently relocated to Kings Landing, and whilst Aegon was not privy to those conversations, he knew that Jaehaerys was shaping Viserys as much as he could.

Viserys had always idolised grandfather, almost as much as he did Baelon and hopefully it would lead to his acceptance of his daughter as his single child with Daemon's more…roguish behaviour be curtailed with a son as future King.

Aegon shook his head.

'Does it really matter to you anymore?' rang in his mind. 

Aegon ignored the resounding answer that crept into his mind.

They boarded the ship though they didn't disembark and wouldn't for another few days though when they'd sail, they'd sail with thirty more people.

He briefly met with them as they were introduced to him, some names sticking out more than others.

He'd tasked Ser Galeanys and a few other of his men approach artists and builders that he'd earmarked as people that he wanted to in his court along with finding out if there were any shipwrights that wished to relocate to Dragonstone for higher pay.

Ser Galeanys managed to find four shipwrights were over twenty years of experience that fitted with what Aegon wanted and all of them were coming with their families.

With the recruitment of other shipwrights from the Arbor, Pentos and Gulltown, he had access to centuries worth of experience when it came to shipbuilding.

If he was going to replicate Galleons, he'd need their expertise. 

Thus far, it was working out well, this fusion of ideas, as the findings the shipwrights on Dragonstone were producing from the stripped away Ibbenese whaling ships, ships which were renowned for their strength and were said to be able to weather any storm and even supposed leviathans, were of good and useful quality.

He was in the captain's cabin when he was interrupted from his reading of a translation of a Yi-Tish tome on ancient myths. Aegon frowned momentarily before shaking his head and calling out "Come in" he placed a feather on the third page on the myths of the Gemstone Emperors.

Ser Galaenys walked in with a short, thin sandy brown haired man in tow. Aegon eyed the man with a blank expression. He was a gaunt man somewhere in his thirties, his cheeks hollow and his skin paler than his complexion suggested he ought to be.

"Mr Foren" Aegon acknowledged as Ser Galeanys led the man further into his cabin.

"Prince Aegon." Jollos Foren greeted a little uneasily as his hands that dangled by his sides wrangling with nerves. Ser Galeanys invaded the man's personal space scowling.

"You're in the presence of a Prince of the Blood. You will addre-" 

"Ser Galeanys" Aegon interrupted causing the knight to halt in his dressing downing. 

"He is a foreigner to our ways. Some allowances can be made the first time." Aegon paused before turning towards the artist. "This time." Aegon stated with a piercing gaze and the gaunt man looked relieved yet intimidated by his stare and bowed his head.

"Of course Your Grace." Ser Galaenys said with a bow of the head before standing beside Aegon, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Aegon gestured the man to sit opposite him.

The man sat.

Aegon studied the man for a brief few moments. There was nothing remarkable about his stature. He was physically weak and seemed to possess little composure.

Unremarkable in all but one way.

And that way was geometry.

It was only really by happenstance that he'd even heard of the man.

One of the builders on Aegon's list had joked to his men about being 'second best' to the greatest builder in Braavos before refusing Aegon's offer. It piqued his curiosity and told his men to go find out about the man.

To say that the Builder's Guild of Braavos found Floren a joke would be an understatement. 'Uninspiring', 'A lunatic who can only think in lines' were some of the more restrained choice descriptions.

It seemed like the man after years of being a promising apprentice he became fixated on geometric relationships and lost all interest in the aesthetic. His men found the man in a hovel of a home and decided to simply purchase a few of his designs.

After he'd seen the designs, that had been enough for him.

Aegon's hand want to the desk drawer and he pulled out a bunch of parchments before sliding them over to the man. "Tell me what you see." Aegon all but ordered.

Floren gulped before he shakily took the parchments and looked them over.

Aegon sat back in his chair, his eyes intently studying the man who was increasingly lost in thought as he read parchment after parchment all whilst muttering under his breath but Aegon didn't fail to see the glimmer of a spark in the man's eyes.

A spark of understanding.

It was almost ten minutes later that Aegon decided to interrupt the man that seemed to be on the precipice of being consumed by his thoughts.

"What do you think?" Aegon finally asked, startling the man. 

"Oh…" Floren exhaled out breathily before clearing his throat, his eyes alight with fascination "It's incredible. I never thought what I see could be explained like that." Floren said amazed before shaking his head as he took one of the parchments in hand.

The parchments had solid or 2D geometries on them, geometries like Parellelepiped which was a hexahedron with three pairs of parallel faces, but each geometry had explanations and relationships that he'd also defined as simply as he could.

"So you understand?" Aegon asked curiously.

Floren looked up and nodded, a bright spark in his eyes before he looked down at the parchment that consisted of an asymmetric polyhedron that laid down flat. That one was more of an exercise surface area summation of each face before adding them up to see if he understood things could be calculated by breaking them up in different shapes.

I understand it." Floren's hand swept across the parchment. "All but one of the features has their sums right on the strange design. Although I do not know why anyone would create such a thing." Floren said but Aegon could see he was pleased with it. He recognised that look. The look of satisfaction of figuring something out.

Aegon suppressed the urge to grin.

"One of the faces is wrong?" Aegon asked with a frown. 

Floren looked up, seemingly mulling something over. "Faces…yes, I suppose that does fit. And yes, Your Grace. One of the faces is not right but the total sums are." He said before going into detailing where he thinks the individual went wrong.

And it was completely right.

To work it all out in one's mind like Floren was capable of? And so fast?

Aegon doubted there were many others that could.

"What you see?" Aegon asked intently. At Floren's nonplussed face Aegon continued "When you see objects or buildings or simply a sketch."

"Well…" Floren began carefully "I can see the space" Floren said before continuing "And I can see the lines and arches. Where they connect and how they connect and I can tell if it's balanced or not merely by seeing lines on a sketch."

Floren's face twisted unhappily "No one appreciates their beauty." He added bitterly

Aegon allowed himself to smile.

"That was a test." Aegon stated to Floren as he waved to the parchment.

"A test to see if you were the right man." The man looked surprised at that.

"And you have passed, Mr Floren." Resoundingly. 

Floren's eyes widened.

"If I may ask…what was I being examined for?" 

Aegon smiled, his eyes gleaming as he leaned in slightly. He hadn't been looking for a mathematician but when life gives you one... "How would you like to be paid to look at shapes and find out why and how they can be used?" 

The spark in the man's face was enough of an answer.

"Your Grace…" Ser Galeanys began as soon as they were left alone. Aegon raised his hand and looked at the knight knowingly.

"Why bother trying to recruit someone who is, for all intents and purposes, unneeded?" Aegon asked knowing that the knight probably had other ways of emoting his confusion.

Ser Galeanys bowed his head.

Aegon smiled.

"How do you know that a sword is balanced?" Aegon asked the knight.

Ser Galeanys frowned. "I just know it."

"And that man knows how the world works without even knowing that he knows." Aegon said with a nod towards the door before eying the knight. 

"And I do not mean the world of men. I mean the world of nature." Aegon stated, his mind adrift as he thought on it. His work with Edywn was more or less focused on recreating the most useful old technologies of his time but beyond that, he was woefully ignoring the theories that needed to be thought of, that needed to be proven.

Floren would lead that charge, ideally, and with a few nudges, and help lead this world out of the strange medieval slash renaissance era it has been stuck in for thousands of years.

Aegon turned back his gaze to the knight who he could see didn't understand. Aegon sighed before he spoke up "I have plans for the man, Ser Galeanys. Have faith."

Ser Galeanys stood a little straighter and bowed his head slightly. "Always" he said resolutely. Aegon smiled. The past few years had been had seen House Qargaris and Calnaereon rise beyond the landed knightly house that they were. 

With Aegon and the training he had his men do, they'd consistently did well in tourneys, with Ser Galeanys even winning the jousting tourney at Maidenpool.

Aegon had been good for their Houses, in both prestige and in fortune with that came their loyalty.

Soon enough he was left alone and the days quickly passed and they set sail towards Dragonstone with the gold on board, and he took special notice as they passed the through the legs of the Titan of Braavos, a spectacular statue that he, when he first had seen it, marvelled at. And he still now marvelled at.

It seemed like it was the work of giants, this four hundred feet tall statue, carved out of granite and cast in bronze, and never the feat of men.

The Colossus of Rhodes, in comparison, had 'only' been a hundred feet tall and did not last more than half a century, after construction was finished twelve years later.

Yet this statue was centuries old and still standing though he knew not how old since no one knew when or how it was constructed and only the idea, which existed in the public memory, that it took three generations to build was known of its creation.

And this was not an isolated creation either, Aegon mused to himself as he watched the Titan fade into the distance. The Wall, the Hightower, and many other places across Essos and even Sothoryos bore structures that beggared belief. 

The capabilities and drive of the ancient peoples of this world were incredible and he longed to see more of it, learn more of it.

As he watched the Titan disappear into the distance, Aegon shook his head and made way to return to his cabin and back to the maps of the Jade Sea and the books on Great Moraq and the surrounding islands. 

He might have given up on seeing as all of the world in favour of finding a new home for his family and his people but it didn't mean he wouldn't get to see some of it when the opportunity arose.

He found that he quite liked that idea.

The days melted into one another and he often stood on the bridge of the ship trying to feel the sway of the ship on the waters as much as he could, whenever he wanted to break from analysing Great Moraq, Marahai and the plans for them.

There was a kind of peace that he loved about the oceans.

The sounds of the seas crashing against the hull, the sounds of rolling water and the clumping sounds of boots against wet wood, all of it contributing to a kind of peace that felt freeing as they sailed towards a featureless horizon.

And on clear night…?

Like now?

When the sky was full of stars and the sea as still as it was now, it felt almost as if he was adrift in space, slowly drifting towards one of the pinpricks of light that just seemed to be within touching distance.

He wondered, whenever he looked at them in a moment of respite, if there was life out there. If the life out there would be the same as the life in his old universe. Or perhaps it would also be the same yet different, like it here on Planetos.

He hoped there was something out there. It was a hope that brought him comfort.

Hours later, he heard boots approach closer to him, boots different than that of the crew, and the weight and sound of the boots he recognised well enough.

Aegon looked away from the stars and turned towards the approaching man whose features showed itself in the light of the oil lamp. Not that it was needed. There was hardly anyone who was as tall as Prince Jalla.

The Summer Islander was tall, by his estimates probably six four, and was black of hair and eye. Dark brown of skin marred with scars and coarse of hair, the youthful man stood out in much of Westeros and most of Essos.

"Couldn't sleep?" the Prince asked with a smile as he sat opposite Aegon.

"Seemed like a waste." Aegon said as he glanced upward again.

The Summer Islander hummed knowingly but said nothing otherwise.

Prince Jalla wasn't one to speak unnecessarily.

At least now, anyway.

The first time Aegon met Prince Jalla had been after the Prince came to petition grandfather for assistance against his usurping uncle, hoping that their sharing of overreaching uncles would garner the sympathy and assistance he needed in order to take back his father's island, the island of Walano.

He received neither.

At that point, it had been six years since Prince Jalla had fled Walano at the age of three and ten after his uncle defeated his brother in combat in the Summer Islander ways. 

Fearing that he'd be made to fight against his dreadful uncle before he was strong enough and forever be exiled from the Summer Islander should he lose, which was undeniable, he decided to leave and grow strong enough to take back his home.

The Summer Islander had found his way to Essos where he's had many brushes with death and slavery but lived through it all. The few tales he shared were unlikely yet Aegon thought there were unlikelier stories still left unshared. 

Given the gruesome nature of some of the stories, however light the tone may have been when shared, he doubted he'd fully know what the man has experienced.

Despite all of that however, the man never lost faith that he'd take back his home.

He admired it in the Summer Islander.

The man had left Kings Landing after the refusal but came back less than a year later, deciding to take up on Aegon's offer to remain by his side for the foreseeable future. Prince Jalla hadn't been happy with the delays – they were to leave last year – but he stayed instead of trying his luck elsewhere.

Aegon was glad for it. 

He knew that the man had little choice, of course, with how little coin he had or the lack of desire to try again with another sellsword company with how the last one ended, but still, the man believed that Aegon would keep his word, even if he knew that it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart.

Much of his plans hinged on winning Prince Jalla Walano back and most importantly it was an ideal place for his children to grow and a peaceful place for him to develop and grow his people and army further without too much attentions from the world around him. And it would also allow him the space to develop the cultural and societal doctrines he'd need once they'd settled in their new home.

He wouldn't have to fear for his children amongst the Summer Islanders.

War was highly ritualised and battles were fought effectively in tourney esque competitions fighting on battlefields, fought with spears and slings and wooden shields, agreed upon by the bands of warriors.

Yes…the Summer Isles were an ideal place until it was time. A peaceful place where food and nature were abundant, a calm before the storm.

And what a calm it would be.

Exotic fruits that he'd only heard described and couldn't wait to taste, animals that sparked the imagination…and the potential of indirectly learning more about the history the Summer Islanders have recorded through their Trees.

"On nights like this…" Prince Jalla broke Aegon's train of thought and turned towards the Prince who looked as if he was remembering something.

"On nights like this, I can imagine the sounds of the forest as though I was there. The songs of the Kemola birds, the calls of the trooping Ruddha monkeys."

"And in a years' time, you will be there to hear it once more, my friend." Aegon told the Summer Islander with a gentle but firm voice. 

The man turned to Aegon and met his gaze.

Valarr wasn't planned – not that the twins were planned either – so soon after the twins and it delayed the family's travel until he was a few namedays old at least, old enough to handle the long journey to the Summer Isles, but there was nothing that could be done about it. 

Despite that though, he and his men were still going to go to the Summer Isles, a six to seven month round trip and however long they'd stay for the battles, exactly when he promised when Prince Jalla returned.

The stare continued for a few more long moments before the Prince inclined his head, a faint apologetic smile on his face. "I know, my friend and I apologise. I do not mean to doubt your word." The man sighed before he looked away from Aegon, shaking his head. Aegon eyed the man carefully. "It is simply…"

"The longing of home?" Aegon suggested.

Prince Jalla turned towards him and nodded to Aegon.

Aegon smiled briefly at the man before looking away. Aegon could understand that. He felt it every day he was away from his wife and sons. 

Neither of them said anything for the rest of the night.

Weeks Later…

He searched out for Mīsaragorn through their bond as they approached the busy port of Dragonstone and withheld a smile at the resounding feeling his dragon returned to him. 

'Just about…now' Aegon thought to himself with satisfaction and a resounding roar sounded out before the silhouette of his dragon flying towards the port grew larger by the second.

None of his crew were frightened by the roar, familiar as they were with dragons flying over Dragonstone, particularly Liāzmariña and Mīsaragorn.

The Cannibal was rarely seen beyond his lair on Dragonmont and when he was, it was often in passing as he left to hunt the abundant sheep on Massey's Hook…when there were no drakelings that hatched from old stone dragon eggs for the beast to feast upon.

Sheepstealer was equally as rarely seen, hunting as he did between Driftmark and Wendwater, and given where his lair was, at the back of Dragonmont far from anyone and anything other than a testy neighbor in the Cannibal, it wasn't surprising.

Grey Ghost was…well…the name spoke for itself. Even he, with all the time he spent flying with Mīsaragorn, he'd only seen the dragon a few times and that was both he and his dragon were flying over the narrow sea hunting whales, dolphins or tuna.

And so his and Gael's dragons were the only ones that flew over Dragonstone on a regular basis. It was odd to think that his and Gael's dragons were the most frequent fliers over Dragonstone likely ever since Jaehaerys and Alyssane took the throne.

Despite the fact that there were well over a dozen dragons known to be alive at present.

Arriving at the port of Dragonstone was always was pleasure, seeing the dockyards and the bustling markets that grew with every passing year.

As they departed off of the ship, his men began to move the portion of the gold to be taken to the one of the vaults of Dragonstone, a formerly empty one that he took for his own, whilst he had one of the men escort the families and men he'd brought with him to their new homes for the next few years.

He spent another few hours at the port and the town, meeting and talking with the town elders and the harbour master about what's been happening over the past few moons.

Not much had changed, not that that he expected it to have, but he always ensured that he had a presence of some kind in the lives of the people of Dragonstone.

Not only because of his duty as castellan of Dragonstone but also because of cementing the bond between himself and the people.

A bond that he took painstaking care of creating.

The men were almost all working in some fashion or another for him, with many of them being trained on sailing, farming or at arms once every three days, just as he employed a large portion of the women were producing high quality porcelain now.

The commonfolk children were learning their letters and numbers from Pentosi scribes and administrators he'd purchased the freedom of, whilst some of them were also being trained to be men-at-arms or knights in the future.

Baelon and Jaehaerys both gave him free reign on the island, seeing it as only a benefit to have Dragonstone grow and the taxes that were being generated by Dragonstone gave them no reason to change it. 

They did not know, of course, that he intended to abscond with as many people as he could. And, if he kept on improving the daily lives and interaction with the people, he did not think he'd have to go beyond and above to convince them to tie their fortunes and lives with him and his family though he'd make sure that he'd stacked the deck entirely to his favour so that remaining would have few benefits.

After all…he was always aware of the fragility of bonds and loyalty, the memories of the abandonment by the heirs he'd befriended throughout the progression still scratching at his mind. 

Still, he didn't spend more time than he needed to with them today, not with the way half of his mind was focused on other matters.

He left soon after and as he walked up the snaking steps towards Dragonstone castle, a fond smile formed on his face, the sight of Gael and their youngest son, Valarr, in her arms doing much to cool the stirrings of his mind.

----------------------------------------------Break----------------------------------------------

101 AC. Dragonstone

Gael POV

Valarr cooed in her arms as she watched Aegon walk up the steps with his guards, a warm smile adorned on her face.

"Aegon." Gael said with a warm smile, her voice laced with affection.

"My love." Aegon said with a fond smile and when he neared her, he came to hug her and their son. She basked in his warmth and it was all too soon that they parted.

Aegon looked down at their son before he moved to pick their son up from her arms. 

Valarr made a noise out of it but settled soon enough as Aegon rocked their near one nameday old son in his arms. She smiled at him fondly.

She loved the way he looked at their son, their sons. The care and love he showed in his interactions with their boys was always there to be seen.

"Castorys and Polaerys?" Aegon asked as they began to move towards the castle, their combined guards at their backs. 

"They're with the maids in the great hall." Gael told Aegon and Aegon nodded.

By the time they arrived at the great hall, Valarr had been returned to her arms, a good thing too because the two boys half crawl, half walk towards their father on their short little legs as soon as they saw and recognised him.

Aegon heaved the two boys up into his arms, the sounds of their giggles coating the hall with warmness "They've started to walk. And they've grown." Aegon remarked to her with a slight glance as the twin boys babbled away at their father.

"They started to walk only in the last moon and at their age, a couple of moons is enough for them to grow a lot." Gael told him.

For the next few hours, Aegon did little but spend time with the three boys. The twins long ago had lost the excitement that came from seeing their father again and played with their toys whilst Valarr dozed away a few times already.

Soon enough, the boys were put to sleep by the maids and Aegon and herself retired to their bedchambers where they reacquainted themselves with each other.

His touch, his warmth, his smells. The feelings of his muscles underneath the skin, the scars that she traced more times she could care to remember, the way she could feel him as they coupled, all of it she missed beyond imagination.

When she woke up, it was by the lick of the sunlight and she moaned slightly as drifted back into wakefulness. Her hands caressed the top of the bed beside, a space that was absent of her husband and she opened her eyes to see what she felt.

She turned her head and saw him by the desk, his head bowed over the desk with the light of the oil lamp still burning brightly, the sounds of pages turning sharpening as the last of the sleepiness left her.

He was always doing something, she thought to herself as she glanced towards the chest. The trading that was flourishing, the work he was doing with the learned men, the armed training he was teaching and participating in, planning out the work he'd soon do with the shipwrights that Aegon had brought over, or like now, when he should be sleeping but instead preferred to read about the mysterious past or the arcane that at best would be frowned up by the High Septon. 

There was so much more that he did that one might think he never slept but somehow he always managed to find a little time beyond all that he did. He always had time for her and their children, beyond the duties he'd taken, and one of the many things she loved him for.

She got off the bed and made her way towards Aegon.

She wrapped her arms around him and felt the content low rumbling from his chest.

She felt his calloused hand on her arm and the soft swirl of his thumb on her skin was soothing, almost enough for her to doze off. 

"Did I wake you?"

She shook her head before placing it against the side of his head, their cheeks touching and she felt the jagged ends of his facial hair.

"No. The sun did." Gael answered before she continued. 

"Did you rest enough?" she asked concerned. She felt his confirmation through his chest and his arm snaked around to pull her slightly towards him. She went around the chair and fell into his all but naked lap and gazed upon his face.

He was smiling gently, the creases in his cheeks prominent.

"I did. I always sleep better when I know you're beside me." Aegon said to her before stroking her cheek. She felt as if she was melting. He always did have that effect on her, even years after they had been wed. She hoped it would never end.

They stayed like for a little before Aegon's attentions drifted towards the tome on the desk. She turned in his lap and eyed what he was reading.

The text was in High Valyrian, old High Valyrian too, and her eyes widen slightly.

The text was difficult to understand as it spoke about weaving magic like a slave-girl would weave a thread, that mind and emotion needed to be trained and used.

"Where did you get this?" she asked Aegon. "In Braavos?"

She could feel Aegon shake his head. "No. Valysar." Aegon said to her and she turned to him. Aegon continued. "You know our trading routes extent to Volantis and that I task them to seek old tomes on Valyria whenever possible."

Gael nodded. 

Dragonstone and Kings Landing traded as far as Qarth now. The trading ships built at the Docks were strong and well manned and weathered the long journeys at sea well.

And amongst his many obsessions, she knew that Old Valyria captured his attentions like no other. Its history, its cultures and most of all, its magic.

"Some of the captains were also tasked to go further down the Rhoyne, towards the towns and settlements like Volon Therys and Valysar." Aegon waved at the tome.

"It was Valysar that this, amongst other tomes, was found." Aegon said before reaching forward and turning the large tome over. It was leather, the cover of the book but it looked…strange. It was light brown and it looked thinner and finer than what she was used to. She moved to trace her hand onto it but Aegon stopped her.

She turned to look at him curiously and saw a grim look on his face.

"I'm not certain." Aegon began carefully "But I suspect that it might be human leather." She recoiled after he finished and Aegon caught her and brought her back to balance against him.

She swallowed slightly and eyed the tome distrustfully. "How do you know?"

"I don't." Aegon corrected but sighed as he continued but with his eyes on the tome. "But as I read more of the tome, I become more certain that it is human skin. The way magic is spoken of seems to be too intuitive…too knowing." 

Aegon turned towards her again. "And you know that our kin were not exactly shy of committing cruelty and evil."

Gael was silent at that. That was true…unfortunately. Their ancestors forged the greatest empire in history but it was an empire steeped in blood, horror and evil.

They rose higher than any other but along the way, sunk lower than any other and as she learnt more of her ancestors and their dragon-kin and the depths that they sunk to, she wondered if mayhaps the boorish chatter of some of the ladies at court she'd heard as a young girl may have rings of truth to it.

That the Gods themselves had been turned away from the Freehold and spelled the Doom to happen.

She shook those thoughts away and read the title. 

'Otherys Maznareon the Munificent. Blood and Power' 

"Blood and Power? Fine title" she muttered even if she thought on the name Maznareon. Why was it so familiar?

Aegon chuckled as stroked a strand of her golden-silver hair behind her ear before he leaned in "You should hear what I intend to name our tome – Fire and Blood by Aegon the Glorious." Gael snorted and she turned to him with a raised brow.

"Careful lest you wish your head be too large to carry upon your shoulders."

Aegon's lips twitched before he spoke "Not a problem. Mīsaragorn may grumble but he'll carry me wherever I'd need to go." Gael smiled at the thought of his ever growing dragon used as mere mule before turning back towards the tome.

"Do you think this is an ancestral book?"

"Yes and no." Aegon stated before he sighed and she could hear his frustrations in his voice. She turned back towards him and saw him deep in thought.

"From what I can tell, it is more like a personal tome with observations instead of what might expect an ancestral book on magic to be." Aegon paused for a moment before he eyed the burning oil lamp. 

He continued "There is nothing in there that says 'You must do this' or 'This is how you do magic', it is more about how magic feels to Otherys." A flicker of frustration flashed across Aegon's face before he turned towards her.

She looked at him with sympathy before she grasped his hand gently.

She knew that he had a thousand questions yet every answer found or path to an answer found, it simply opened up many more questions.

Like the questions he had about the Weirwood trees and their connection to the Old Gods, or the questions of the Children of the Forest that he'd seen on the Isle of Faces.

He'd made her have questions of her own now too. 

Questions about their family.

All they really knew about House Targaryen and its place in the Freehold was that it was amongst the Forty families but a low ranking House of little influence.

It was disturbing to think that her family knew almost nothing about their origins. 

Five thousand years of history, five thousand year long Empire and yet all the knowledge they had about their family and their place in Valyria was what anyone curious about House Targaryen could learn.

There was nothing about who the first of their line was, no tapestry that extended beyond Aenar Targaryen's sire and mother nor if they had cousins that died with the doom.

There was no family chronicle like what the Great Houses of Westeros like the Lannisters, the Arryns or the Starks had, there was merely a few tomes that named kin and spoke of but that was all there was when it came to their family history.

Aegon thought that he believed that one of their ancestors, maybe even Aenar himself, must have worked to hide their history from the world. 

He believed that House Targaryen was in fact a lowly ranked House of the Forty and that Aenar used it to his – and their family's – advantage when the Doom happened and the few Dragonlords who'd been all across Essos were overrun and murdered.

To draw attentions away from the hostile world that the last of the Dragonlords found themselves in.

Aegon smiled at her faintly before he lost it as he continued with a weary expression "I'm beginning to think I will really need teachers instead of figuring it out on my own with tomes and texts found in the crevices of the world."

"It's dangerous." Gael whispered quietly.

Aegon smiled with a grimace. "I know." He said with a sigh before he glanced towards Gael, his face hardening slightly. "But we must know what we are, Gael."

Aegon told her that he believed that their family was all but magic itself yet they understood nearly nothing of magic itself.

It was an obsession of his, to understand what their family was, and she scarcely understood why it was so. She'd chalked off to his insatiable curiosity but sometimes she wondered if there was more to it…

"And how do we protect ourselves, our children" Gael stressed out before adding "If we invite them into our homes?" 

As Aegon's search of magic continued, she heard of the tales that some of the sailors returned with. Tales of Fire mages in Qarth that could make flames dance in the centre of their palms, tales of a Red Priest in Volantis that the sailors swore had red glowing eyes.

It frightened her.

Aegon saw this in her expression and his hand rose to caress her cheek. "I won't be inviting any of those kinds of sorcerers to our home." Aegon told her gently.

"No, I was thinking more of the Alchemists in Volantis." Aegon added.

Gael frowned. "The people who create Wildfyre?" 

Aegon nodded slightly "I'm not certain that it is magical in nature but I'm leaning towards that it is. And if that is the case, then that means that whatever means they employ to create the fire, is magical. If I know how they do it, it will be enough, I think, for me to feel how to use magic properly." Aegon frowned slightly as he looked away from her.

"I can feel it, Gael. Mine own magic. I feel when I ride with Mīsaragorn. I feel it when I search out for him. I feel it even now, with you." Aegon said to her passionately.

Gael looked at him for a long few moments. The connection he spoke about was something she also felt but to her, it was like breathing. Unnoticeable. Un-noteworthy. Something she never thought to think of until Aegon remarked upon it.

But for Aegon? 

She'd heard him enough times to know his connection was an ache, an ache that he could not relent from seeking to scratch, no matter how far it was from his fingertips.

"And I feel it stronger when it burns." Aegon turned his attentions towards the oil lamp and leaned forward before picking it up. Gael pursed her lips disapprovingly but said nothing as he placed it in front of them, and when she turned towards him, she could see the fire burning in his mismatched eyes. 

It transfixed her, just as the fires transfixed Aegon and after a moment, he jerked the iron handle open and placed his hand into the flames.

After a few seconds that seemed to stretch unbearably long, he went on to pick up some of the burning oil and let the burning oil settle in the centre of his palm that he held away from the pair of them.

"Very well." Gael said after a few moments and Aegon snuffed the flames out and turned towards her. She continued "I only ask that for now the alchemists is all that we take in. You know how bad it could be should the Faith know all of this." She said as she looked towards Aegon's oily hand before moving towards picking up the cloth and cleaning his hand.

"I am aware." Aegon said a little dryly as he looked to her gratefully. The Faith hated everything to do with magic and she knew full well that the relationship between the Faith and her family was not at all a natural one.

To hear one of the Princes of the blood dabbling in magic…

Her eyes widened slightly and she stopped cleaning his hand and moving as she felt him rise. She turned to him and saw him giving her that look and a coy smile bloomed on her as she spoke "The servants will likely knock within the hour."

"They can wait." Aegon said as he stood up, catching her in his arms. She yelped slightly and Aegon chuckled slightly as he moved them towards the bed and for the next hour, they basked in each other's arms…and ignored the servants.

The next day Aegon had Bartimos take a ship to Kings Landing with nearly half of the Braavosi gold. It was an agreement between her father and Aegon, to split the gold of his glassmaking invention. He'd told her of the contract that he'd signed with the Braavosi and though she thought that he could have done better, she thought what they'd gotten was good enough for what they needed.

The gold would free more Valyrians and the ships they could use to increase their wealth in preparation for their travels. The days, weeks and moons passed quickly as life with her Aegon resumed once more.

Aegon often spent much of his mornings after the training yard with the shipwrights, checking on their progress on the building of larger carracks that were faster and sturdier than the Westerosi or Braavosi carracks.

She spent most of her time, when she wasn't with the children or visiting Kings Landing, with the Maester and the town elders, elders who Aegon had selected to be the in-between for the people of Dragonstone, to discuss whatever needed to be discussed.

Most days there was little to discuss as the schools, the men-at-arms and the Docks were running smoothly now with all that they've done and the people of Dragonstone were easy to comply with their decisions. After all, it had never been as good as it was now for them. They loved her husband and herself for it.

Aemma once joked – unjokingly – that it seemed as if Aegon and herself were the rulers of Dragonstone instead of Baelon or Viserys who would inherit Dragonstone.

With both Baelon as Hand of the King and Viserys given duties befitting a Hand of the King causing both to spend little time on Dragonstone, it wasn't entirely wrong.

Baelon did great honour to Aegon to allow him to rule Dragonstone in his and Viserys' name. Though at times, she wondered if Aegon would be so quick to want find a home somewhere else if Dragonstone was to be theirs. Anyone could see that he loved the castle and cared for the people here. 

It was during her duties of checking the balances of the returning trade ships that the door to the Lord's chambers opened after a quick knock. She looked up in surprise at the sudden interruption and looked to the escorted maester with curious eyes.

It wasn't like him to forget his decorum.

"My apologies, Princess." The elderly maester said with out of breath as he dabbed at his forehead. "I had to run here from the rookery post haste."

"And what is the message?" Gael asked calmly even as a feeling of dread washed over her. She hoped it wasn't about mother even if she was more or less prepared for it. Mother was not well and could not leave Kings Landing easily.

"It's about the Crown Prince." The maester said much to her surprise and her expression turned heavy with worry as the maester continued to explain.

Gael turned towards one of the guards as she stood up. 

"Repeat everything the maester has said about my husband's father and tell him to go dragonback. I and the children will sail to Kings Landing." She ordered the guard firmly and the guard bowed before disappearing away into the hallway, the sounds of his steps quickening every second.

"Was there anything else? Anything?" Gael asked hurriedly.

The maester shook his head.

 "No. the Grandmaester did not explain what the malady was."

Gael placed her hands on top of the desk, the urge to bite her lips strong but she simply suppressed it before turning towards the guards. 

"Have the Docks prepare a ship to Kings Landing." 

"Yes, Your Grace" one of the guards said before she waved everyone out of the chamber.

For a moment she simply stood. Standing there hoping that her brother would be alright but the concern was palpable in the Grandmaester's words. She let off a deep breath and fortified herself and began to walk, her destination her children.

----------------------------------------------Break----------------------------------------------

101 AC, Kings Landing

Aegon steamed through the Holdfast, his hands clenched as his quick pace never once slowed as he walked past the corner, the pit in his stomach felt thundering.

It was in their faces. All of them. The guards. The servants.

It was through their faces that he knew.

And when he saw Aemma's tearful face and Daemon's face twisting with grief and fear, it was the final acknowledgement of what he'd known when he'd gotten into the Red Keep.

"Oh Aegon." Aemma said sadly and Aegon realised his face must have dropped at the fact. Daemon's face twisted bitterly at the sight of him but there was something there, something he hadn't seen on Daemon's face in a long time.

Helplessness.

"Am I…?" Aegon was unable to finish as he closed the gap between himself and them, his gaze fixed on the guarded closed doors that seemed insurmountable.

His face mirrored the pit in his stomach that rumbled and thundered and rolled.

"He's under the milk of the poppy and asleep." Aemma said hesitantly before she glanced at Daemon who turned away from her look and from them both.

She turned back to Aegon. "Viserys, the Kings Guard and our grandparents are in there with the Grandmaester who is keeping goodfather alive."

Aegon looked at Aemma and there was a question in his face he hoped Aemma understood and she did. She shook her head slowly and the pit in his stomach sank.

Aegon's hands clenched as he closed his eyes.

Over the past few years, the distance between himself and Baelon had closed. He wasn't sure what started it, whether or not it was the 'visions' or his marriage to Gael or his children or his pending departure or mayhaps it was Jaehaerys who forced it, but whatever it was, it led to Baelon reaching out to him. 

He decided to reciprocate, their past tensions and misunderstandings and secrets forgiven and since then…since then, their relationship was a lot closer even if they had a difficult and insurmountable past that could not be forgotten.

He reopened his eyes and slowly moved to the doors, his gaze tracing across the faces of the guards who ended up standing back to let him in. Aegon paused briefly, his gaze turning back towards Daemon who faced away from everyone.

He felt Aemma's hand on his shoulder and he glanced at her. She gave him a kind smile before her eyes flittered over to Daemon and Aegon nodded, knowing why the pair of them were here instead of in there.

The doors to the apartment opened and every step felt heavier than the last.

He paid little attentions to the Kings Guard whose armour clinked with sharpness nor did he pay heed to Viserys who fretted by the balcony, no, his attentions were zeroed in on the figure that lay still as a corpse with his hands held tightly on either side.

Aegon clenched his teeth as he arrived at the foot of the bed and would have sighed in relief if it weren't for what he was seeing on his father's face. Even in sleep, he could see the agony in which he was in, the sweat that dripped from his forehead and the pale white blue hue of his skin.

His father's breathing was shallow, struggling, rasping. His chest barely moved.

His father who'd always stood like an unmovable object was abed like unmoving stone. It was wrong. So, so wrong…

Somehow, he conjured the ability to take his eyes off of his infirm father and his eyes flittered between the two figures who were on either side.

He saw his grandmother the left side of the bed and his grandfather on the other, both of them silent, both of them pained and almost grieving yet both dealt with their pain so differently.

His grandmother looked broken-hearted and frail forcing herself to be strong enough to comfort her son. His grandfather was stony-faced yet the eyes told everything. Violet eyes that bored into Baelon's face, violet eyes that were unblinking.

He felt a hand on his arm and Aegon turned sharply, his body springing almost on its own but he stopped before he moved to do anything when he recognised Viserys' face. Viserys' face was devastating, haunted even. 

"You're shaking." Viserys said quietly and Aegon blinked before he looked down at his arms and hands. He was shaking. Aegon relaxed his jaw and looked back up at Viserys, difficult emotions struck across his face. 

Viserys understood.

It was the next morning, the fifth day, that his father, Baelon, died. Asleep and under the influence of the milk of the poppy, unaware of what and who was with him in his final moments.

It was an awful death in every way.

Baelon…his father…did not deserve to die so suddenly.

He shouldn't have died at all.

Yet fate had conspired to make it inevitable, unstoppable. 

'Burst belly...'

"My Prince." Grandmaester Runiceter said with surprise as he entered the Red Keep mortuary that very night. "You shouldn-" Runiceter quieted under Aegon's angry glare.

"I will have my moment with my father. Leave." Aegon said with clenched teeth as he stared at the man with hard eyes, danger and threat laced in his tone. Runiceter wilted and bowed his head before leaving.

Aegon watched the man go almost out of desperation before he returned his gaze towards his laid out father. Aegon's walk towards his body was quiet until he stopped by his father's side.

His father's body was bare, excepting his lower portion to protect his modesty – what modesty was there in death – and he saw the incision line down the middle of his stomach.

'Burst belly' Runiceter had said, quelling the anger that it might have been poison. His stomach had burst and he'd died out from internal bleeding.

Aegon's nose flared as he clenched his hands.

Probably something like appendicitis or a stomach ulcer or maybe even a terrible case of hernia. It sounded like appendicitis though, the location where the stomach was said to have burst and the progression to pain to sudden swelling of the stomach and bruising of the skin made it likely.

God…

'How fucking terrible' Aegon thought as his eyelids drooped low. The pain must have been horrendous. Aemma had said his screams had been horrible.

His father had never been emotive or made a major thing of things, even if he was injured in the training yard like the time he'd seen him fight with Aemon.

He could not imagine how horrible the pain must have been…

Aegon's hand rose and he gently placed it and his father's forehead.

"I'm sorry." Aegon said quietly and meaningfully to his father's body.

He never thought that this would happen. 

His father had been strong and the Hand of the King. He wasn't battling with pirates like Aemon had where a lucky arrow would strike him. He wasn't fighting in a war or have enemies who would want to assassinate him in particular.

He thought that with his presence, Baelon would succeed Jaehaerys and that with what he knew about his 'visions', would enact measures to avoid it happening in the first place.

Aegon clenched his teeth as he let out a frustrated breath.

Yet fate would not allow it and there was nothing he could have done to change it.

He looked at his father again, sadness etched on his face. 

Baelon looked peaceful. 

He wasn't sure how long he was there for when he heard the doors open.

The slow but weighty steps were enough for him to know who it was.

Aegon felt his presence beside him and for a long while neither spoke.

"Did you know this was going to happen?" 

The voice was calm but there was grief and pain and accusation within it.

Aegon turned his face towards Jaehaerys.

Jaehaerys still had his stern face. His authoritative presence but…

He looked old. Older than he last saw him. He was only seven and sixty years of age yet it seemed like he aged twenty years in a single day.

"No. I did not." Aegon said finally, sadness etched in his voice. He did not feel betrayed by the question. It was a question he would ask.

Aegon turned back to the sight of his father.

"I never saw anything about his death." Aegon closed his eyes. Baelon had always been a blind spot of his and he never knew what would happen to him. He thought enough had changed that anything that might have happened to him, like the freak incident with Aemon, wouldn't any more simply because his presence, his actions.

He continued to speak. "I thought he'd ascend to the throne." Aegon said quietly before reopening his clouded eyes.

Their relationship had been better than it had been ever before but it hadn't been as close as Baelon's relationships were with Daemon or Viserys.

At the very least however, he can say that he was relieved that he'd gotten a resolution of some kind with his father.

But still…

He felt bitter about the loss.

"He would have made a great king." Aegon finished mournfully.

Baelon, like Aemon, had qualities that were great for Kings-to-be. 

With him as King, the Targaryen legacy that Jaehaerys built would have shored up their grip on the Seven Kingdoms even further.

He heard a sharp, shuddering breath from beside him and Aegon resisted the urge to look, choosing to ignore the moment of vulnerability. 

The sound stopped almost as soon as it began.

"Yes. He would have." Jaehaerys said in his authoritative voice before he turned away but not without leaving a final, bitter comment. 

"The Gods however thought otherwise."

The days after were by like a haze. 

Kings Landing was in mourning for the Prince they loved and grieving as one alike though none were hit as much as his grandmother was.

Not six hours after Jaehaerys lit Baelon's funeral pyre, she collapsed and was bedridden, in and out of wakefulness as Gael and Jaehaerys sat by her bedside with the rest of the family, Vaegon included this time, once more watching the final moments of family.

Not even seven days after the funeral of Baelon, Jaehaerys had to lit up the funeral pyre of Queen Alysanne, a woman he'd spent over fifty years with.

The sight of seeing a difficult and stern man like Jaehaerys weakening before his eyes was as saddening as it was dangerous and decided to stay in Kings Landing for the time being, a decision that Gael was grateful for.

Jaehaerys had leaned on Gael – and even Vaegon who stayed at the behest of Jaehaerys – much of the past few weeks, dining and breaking fast with them and their little family which was needed given the scrutiny that was no on their family.

Aegon didn't have to look at the faces of the courtiers to know the questioning that were on their faces, questioning that may well be on the minds of all the Realm.

Jaehaerys, old and struck as he was, knew this too even if he never addressed it.

Vaegon, now an Archmaester with chains devoted to alchemy, astronomy, mathematics and the arcane arts, was appointed as the Hand of the King and often holed up with Jaehaerys, especially now that rumours began to circulate that Corlys Velaryon was gathering his ships and men to 'defend the rights of the rightful heir, Laenor Velaryon' whilst Daemon was gathering his own men and drumming up support for Viserys as the rightful heir of the Iron Throne.

It was dangerous, to see it happen before his very own eyes. The whispers of the court, the news that this or that lord had said they were supporting Laenor or Viserys.

Gael had been wroth and in despair at the sight of what was happening.

Daemon demanded that he assist in securing Viserys' right but Aegon firmly dissuaded Daemon from involving him in his own hot-headed ambitions.

Daemon had been furious and Viserys disappointed but Aegon explained that the King's words were final and that he'd support the word of their grandfather above all else. It was hypocritical, he knew, but cooler heads needed to prevail and him piling on would not be assisting the issue of the matter.

It was bad enough that vultures circled around their family, feeding and feasting on the divisions that existed by mistakes that had never faded away.

Days later…

"It's dangerous." Aegon said measuredly.

"How so?" Vaegon asked in his self-certain way that bordered on sounding patronising. Aegon turned to him and met his gaze. 

No doubt he'd questioned Jaehaerys as to why he was here.

In all honesty, he wondered that himself as well. Jaehaerys knew all there was when it came to the 'visions' that he'd had. He kept names and details and eras hidden, of course, but he knew everything there needed to be known…to act against.

The fact that he was here didn't bode well, Aegon thought to himself. It spoke of uncertainty, indecision. Nothing that Jaehaerys was known for…but understandable given the context of all that had happened.

Aegon cleared away that thought and refocused on Vaegon. 

Vaegon still kept his ring and rod, items that marked him as an Archmaester, whilst the Hand of the King medal was pinned to his chest. He was frail and was gaunt, looking like he was one of the beggars found the hovels of Kings Landing but with an unusual sharpness in his eyes.

Aegon wondered how much this was Jaehaerys' desires and how much it was the Citadel's. Vaegon, for all that he was a son of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, was a man who was devoted to knowledge and the Citadel.

Still…

There were merits to the Great Council but it was one thing that he absolutely hated.

"By allowing the Lords of Westeros to choose their monarch, you set a dangerous precedent on the matters of King's Authority and succession." Aegon answered.

He disliked any power to be granted to the Westerosi nobility. The majority of them are infected with desires for power and elevating their status as much as possible.

And often that elevation would come to the cost that of his family.

Jaehaerys was unfazed by this explanation.

"King's authority?" Vaegon repeated with a raised eyebrow as his expression remained unchanged. "As we speak, the Velaryons are gathering their ships and men. Their allies have given their support, both in voice and in arms. The petulant brute that is Daemon is doing the very same." Vaegon tweedled his chain.

"No matter who father chooses as heir, the other will feel slighted. Both sides possess dragons. Both have allies." Vaegon narrowed his eyes. "As much as I agree that it does set a precedent, it is preferred to civil war."

Aegon leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.

Vaegon, as much as he wanted to say he hated it, he agreed. Rhaenys was no longer a teenager and has been slighted more than a few times now. Jaehaerys' actions to isolate the Velaryons has likely only increased the enmity she held for grandfather.

Corlys was not someone who would let go of an opportunity like the one that arrived.

'Did I make it worse' he wondered grimly before shaking his head slightly.

"And as much as I hate to say it…the Great Council could do well to deflate the situation." Aegon said with a sigh as he rubbed one his temples. Vaegon looked pleased with the statement. Childish prick, Aegon thought balefully. 

He looked to Jaehaerys with a serious expression. 

"But I beseech you, word it all in such a way that the Great Council and its verdict is a suggestion rather than a decision. That you will agree to the suggestion made by the Great Council like how your advisors may council you on a decision." Aegon stated.

Jaehaerys reacted to that and looked to Vaegon for his input.

Vaegon looked thoughtful. "It could work" he said finally before adding "It removes weight of the Great Council's…suggestion however."

"Insignificantly." Aegon dismissed. 

"The suggestion will be considered but a decision in the eyes of the realm regardless but in this way, it is at the King's leisure still and will not force the King to abide by the rulings of his vassals" Aegon said before continuing 

"In any case, what support can either claimant garner when the majority Great Council voted for the other claimant, agreed upon by the King himself?" 

Aegon shook his head "To do anything otherwise is treason, not like it is now where there is enough grey for arguments and causes to be made."

The combination of support of the Lords of Westeros for one of the claimant and the confirmation by the King should kill ambitions for the throne by Corlys and Rhaenys. He held sympathy for them, and he even disagreed that Rhaenys should have been passed over but in the end, too much had been done to undo that mistake.

"Is this the start?" Jaehaerys asked suddenly who had remained silent up until this point. Vaegon had questions on his face but Aegon ignored them and turned towards Jaehaerys who was looking out of the window.

"No. And yes." Aegon said unwillingly unhelpfully and he received a piercing glare from Jaehaerys who turned to him. Aegon met his gaze. 

"No as in the matter of the Velaryons ends here but yes because Viserys will be pressured into having a male heir." Aegon said to Jaehaerys, whose expression flickered slightly "Whether it is from court or the realm." Aegon added gently before glancing at Vaegon who was studying Aegon carefully. 

The man likely already gotten his answer as to why Jaehaerys was discussing this with him in the first place. Jaehaerys shook his head slightly. "I wish to speak with Vaegon alone." Jaehaerys said and Aegon stood up and bowed before his grandfather. He didn't fail to see Vaegon's gaze following him out of the door.

It took half a year for the Great Council to begin at Harrenhal, with Jaehaerys electing to remain at Kings Landing, and every Lord and Lady worth their salt came with retinues and Harrenhal seemed to bulge with how many nobles and knights and serving men that came to the still formidable castle.

From the Farmans to the Tarths, from the Umbers to the Redwyns, Lords of every corner of the realm came to Harrenhal to partake what was to be the most important event in recent history.

And outside of the halls, a small town had cropped up as merchants, whores and singers and mummers made camp near the castle grounds.

There were also hedge knights and freeriders that came in hopes of finding work for their swords and Aegon's numbers of knights swelled thrice as much with how many he decided to take on, and he could have taken ten times the numbers had he not been scrupulous about the characters of the knights and freeriders.

Before the Great Council started, there had been some mutterings about his own claim, married as he was to the King's only surviving daughter – ignoring that Saera was still alive – but he'd dismissed that readily and made clear of his own lack of right of claim and that of his sons given that he was a third son.

No, this was between Leanor and Viserys even if twelve other claims were examined and considered. The Velaryons had thrown gold and influence around and were backed by the Baratheons and the Starks. 

Aegon agreed to support Viserys with gold to counter the Velaryon when it was clear that Jaehaerys wouldn't be seen favouring one way or another, despite it being clear who he did want to succeed him.

In the speech before the Great Council, Corlys was passionate and likely swayed some. Let it not be said that Corlys wasn't a great orator but Aegon believed it was wrong of the man to include the achievements and prestige of House Velaryon.

It was not House Velaryon that the former Kings and Lords of Westeros bowed to. 

It was to House Targaryen. Had he promised his son to take the name Targaryen upon his ascent to the throne, Aegon could have seen that it probably would have been closer. A Targaryen dragonrider instead of a Velaryon ascending to the throne, son of the heir of the eldest first born…? That could have changed things.

Some claims he was surprised at and did not overly doubt the claims of kinship given their likeness to his family. One of these claimed to be a bastard of Saera and looked like he could his brother.

Others were shameless like the claimant of a red-headed guard who claimed to be a son of Maegor. All the claims besides Leanor's he suspected were allowed merely to weaken the claims that the Velaryons had. 

And mayhaps to create a spectacle out of things.

The thirteen days long wait were not pleasant and he took to train with the newly incorporated knights, getting to know them closer and see what made them tick.

Some he'd been impressed by and would elect to take him with him to the Summer Isles in a moon's time to fulfil his promise to Prince Jalla.

When the decision of the Great Council came, Viserys had won resoundingly.

Aegon was curious about the tally as the maesters never revealed at the assembly but knew better than to ask for it. He doubted that it was worth the trouble.

Viserys was confirmed as the Prince of Dragonstone though he decided to stay in Kings Landing to help Jaehaerys rule. Vaegon returned to the Citadel and Jaehaerys decided to select Ser Otto Hightower as the Hand of the King, a man who had been in court for a number of years now though he arranged for his wife and children to come.

By the time Aegon boarded the ship to the Summer Isles, it was towards the turn of the year. "I will be back sooner than you think." Aegon said to his wife as they stood on the docks of Kings Landing. She smiled at him faintly. 

There was a glimmer of sadness mixed with acceptance. He stroked her cheek.

"I already miss you." She confessed to him and Aegon smiled before he kissed her on the cheek.

"And I you…" Aegon said with a sigh before he parted from her. "But you kn-"

"Yes, I know." Gael said to him. "Helping Prince Jalla will make sure we have a place in the Summer Isles." Gael said to him before sighing.

"I just hate that it has to be now" she admitted.

Aegon nodded tightly. Jaehaerys was growing weaker by the day and even if they hadn't had Valarr, Aegon knew that this would have been the outcome either way.

The signs were there and Gael would not leave Jaehaerys to die without her.

"I promise the barges will be finished upon your return." Gael said to him with a determined note.

Aegon let go off her and smiled fondly at her, a smile she returned, nothing else being spoken between them for there was no need.

And with that he departed.