Chapter 19: Barren Island - 108 AC

Upon a weathered wooden platform, perched precariously at the precipice of Grey Gallows Island's sandy shore, stood Clement. Adjacent to him, a galley, its hull caressed by gentle waves. Before him stood Gormond, his once formidable figure now bereft of armor. A respite from the ravages of war had momentarily graced their lives, the pirates and the Triarchy's grip on the Stepstones all but dissolved. Thus, the time had come for revelry and the arduous task of recuperating their losses. However, Gormond's path diverged as he prepared to embark on a journey back to Claw Isle, to reunite with his son.

"The sailors assure me that our voyage shall be calm," Gormond said. "In a week or two, I shall set foot on familiar soil once more."

"I see," Clement replied, his tone measured and contemplative. "No diversions, perchance? A detour to the city of Lys, mayhaps?"

Gormond scoffed dismissively, the weight of pragmatism crushing any fanciful notions. "Such a course would condemn me to the clutches of the Triarchy. Furthermore, it is not in the best interest of myself or my wife to reunite anytime soon."

Clement arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And why is that so?"

"The nature of her endeavors is... delicate," Gormond cryptically alluded.

"So it is Johanna Swann," Clement mused aloud, his words laced with intrigue. "The courtesan? Your tastes are indeed unconventional, dear uncle."

Gormond rolled his eyes, dismissing the notion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Keep guessing, my dear nephew. Alas, your attempts shall be in vain."

Clement chuckled softly, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Well, I suppose time shall unravel the mystery in a few years' time."

"Once another conflict ignites its fiery tendrils," Gormond declared, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness. "Whenever that fateful day may arrive, I shall return."

Clement shook his head solemnly, a grave concern etched upon his features. "No, it would be prudent for you to remain ensconced within the safety of Claw Isle, should peril come knocking."

"Your rationale fails to convince me of the necessity to abstain," Gormond sighed, resignation seeping into his voice. "Very well, I shall acquiesce. May fortune favor your endeavors in this desolate expanse."

Without warning, a deafening thunderous roar reverberated across the vast expanse of the archipelago's sky. Heads swiveled in unison, their gazes fixed on the spectacle unfolding above. Although the presence of Daemon's formidable dragon was a familiar sight, this particular roar carried an unfamiliar resonance. It echoed like a tempestuous gale gusting from the distant north, heralding the arrival of Vhagar. Her massive form descended upon the island, casting a shadow that blanketed its entirety. The mere flapping of her colossal wings stirred the air, creating a palpable disturbance, causing even the battle-hardened soldiers to tense with apprehension. Death itself seemed to loom as the monster drew nearer.

Passing by Clement, who stood by the port, the dragon proceeded towards the heart of the isle, eventually alighting on the ground with a resounding thud.

"Alone in this isle, you shall not be." Gormond declared with a hearty chuckle, his hand warmly patting Clement's shoulder. With those words of encouragement, he ascended the platform that connected to the galley, making preparations for the impending journey.

After that, Clement just turned around, directly walking towards the space where the dragons were supposed to land.

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As he made his way toward the grounds where the dragons dwelled, a throng of people had already gathered at the entrance. Among them were Velaryon soldiers, donning their gleaming plate armor, their curiosity piqued. With ease, Clement navigated through the crowd, effortlessly parting their ranks. As soon as they recognized him, they hurriedly dispersed. Stepping into the grounds, Clement laid eyes on Laena, who had already dismounted from Vhagar's back. She stood face-to-face with her own father, Lord Corlys Velaryon.

Seeing the event that stood before him, Clement leaned against the entrance marker of the area, and crossed his arms.

The girl was adorned in the garb of a dragonrider, crafted from colorful leather—a blend of crimson, ivory, and a hint of aquamarine—marrying the hues of her former house with those of her husband's. She removed her gloves, capturing her father's unwavering gaze. She had undeniably blossomed; the roundness of her youthful cheeks had vanished, and a cascade of silvery gold locks flowed down her back. Her countenance exuded confidence, mingled with a touch of haughtiness.

"Greetings, Father," she offered a faint smile. "I extend my congratulations on your triumph in the war."

Corlys arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing his daughter's visage. "What brings you here?" he inquired, his tone laced with curiosity.

"I have come to pay a visit to my husband," she replied, with a slight hint of taunt. "Surely that is permissible?"

The girl turned her gaze towards Clement, who stood just beside the entrance. Corlys, too, shifted his attention, casting a glance over his shoulder. Once he spotted Clement's presence, a sigh escaped his lips. "I see. Do not wander too far using your dragon if you fly around. It is still not safe."

"And pray tell, which audacious pirate would dare lay their gaze upon Vhagar?" Laena's laughter danced through the air as she gracefully departed from the ongoing conversation, gracefully striding towards Clement. With her father veering off to attend to his affairs on the opposite side, she approached the young man at a leisurely pace, bestowing upon him a slight bow.

"Husband," she addressed him, her voice a soft melody.

Clement, in response, emitted a low whistle. "Truly, you make a striking entrance. Might it be that you seek to incite the wrath of your own father?"

"The thoughts that occupy my father's mind concerning my presence here are of no consequence," Laena retorted. "The war has drawn to its close, and I possess every right to visit my husband whenever my heart desires. You haven't barred me from doing so."

"I suppose so." Clement chuckled.

"And besides, I am six and ten now, and married. He can't force me to do anything." Laena shrugged. "Well, guide me through your playground then, husband, I'm sure it'll be fun to hear it."

Clement's lips curved upward, forming a knowing smile upon his face. "Considering the intricate tapestry of your character, I sincerely question whether my personal affairs hold any fascination for you," he remarked, his voice tinged with a subtle air of amusement.

Laena, her vibrant spirit emanating, responded with a melodious hum, her words carrying a hint of jest. "The abundance of idle hours has a remarkable way of shaping individuals, altering even my very essence,"

Clement's expression shifted into a wry smirk. "We shall see then."

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Clement strode along the well-worn, dirt-paved path that wound through the heart of the medium-sized outpost. A flurry of activity surrounded him, as men scurried about in every direction, their arms laden with crates brimming with metallic goods and loaves of coarse bread. The rhythmic clang of hammers striking searing-hot iron reverberated through the air, mingling with the steady drone of saws slicing through timber, sending clouds of sawdust swirling near the harbor where ships were undergoing repairs and new structures were taking shape.

Amidst this vibrant scene, Clement's presence was accompanied by his esteemed wife, Lady Laena. Together, they strolled at a leisurely pace, their discerning eyes taking in the intricate affairs of the laboring men who toiled around them. The guards stationed throughout the outpost stood with unwavering resolve, their watchful gazes scanning the area with an air of calm authority.

"How fares your life in Claw Isle?" inquired Clement, his voice imbued with an air of serenity. "Dull, I presume?"

"As I mentioned, my days are filled with countless idle moments," Laena replied, her voice laced with a melodious hum. "However, it is not as wretched as one might imagine. I have discovered your unique approach to governing Brackyore to be quite intriguing."

"In what manner?" questioned Clement, his eyebrow arched inquisitively.

"Every now and then, I have had the pleasure of eavesdropping on the consultations between your father's council and your steward, Selwyn," revealed Laena. "Two years have passed, and during that time, I have observed a noteworthy decline in this year's tariffs compared to the previous year."

"And you never thought to question it?" Clement asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Selwyn welcomes inquiries and would be most delighted to provide answers."

Laena let out an exasperated sigh, her eyes rolling in a gesture of exasperation. "It is not a matter of ignorance regarding your actions. Rather, it is a matter of astonishment at your audacity. Even the Lannisters wouldn't do such a thing. What you're doing is legal, but the crown will not like it."

"I see," Clement chuckled softly, his mirthful tone laced with a touch of cynicism. "By now, the king and his council must have taken notice. In due course, either my father or I shall receive a summons, demanding an increase in tariffs or engaging in negotiations on sundry matters."

Laena arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "Such as?"

Clement regarded Laena with an air of amusement. "I do not expect you to display any great interest in the intricacies of economics."

Upon hearing Clement's words, Laena emitted a derisive snort, maintaining her stride along the dirt-laden path. When they finally arrived at the beach, they paused, positioning themselves upon the soft, golden sands. Their gazes fixated upon the ceaseless ebb and flow of the ocean's waves. The water had dampened their feet, yet they seemed unperturbed by this inconvenience.

"I have never inquired. But how did you come to possess Vhagar?" Clement inquired.

"By forging a bond with her, what else?" Laena haughtily retorted.

"You are aware that is not the crux of my inquiry, Laena," Clement replied, casting an amused glance in her direction.

Laena playfully flashed him a mischievous smirk, but her countenance swiftly turned serious. "I followed her to Dragonmont. She was there, nestled within one of the mountain's caverns, slumbering as though she wept in her dreams. Naturally, I approached her and adhered to my mother's counsel: to exude calmness and wait for her to recognize my worthiness."

"Is that all?" Clement raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Laena nonchalantly shrugged. "What more is there to explain?"

"I presumed forming a bond with a dragon would necessitate a considerable amount of time, particularly with younger dragons," remarked Clement.

"That it does," Laena concurred with a nod. "It defies description, truthfully. I have yet to ride a fledgling dragon, but when I soar upon Vhagar's back, it feels as though she possesses innate knowledge, at times surpassing my own."

Clement chuckled softly. "Naturally, she is aged."

Laena rolled her eyes, her irritation palpable. "Would you refrain from insulting Vhagar's advanced age?"

"In due course," Clement retorted with a sly grin. "So, if I understand correctly, you casually strolled into Dragonstone? Through Dragonmont? Without encountering any resistance from the guards?"

"It's not as if they don't stop you." answered Laena. "If you don't know what you're doing, you're most likely just going to be a dragon's food for the day rather than a threat."

"That is sound logic." Clement hummed.

"What's this? Are you suggesting an expedition to that place? To try to tame a dragon, perchance?" Laena teased, her laughter laced with playful mockery. "Does my status as a dragonrider evoke envy within you, dear husband?"

"Envy is beneath me." Clement rolled his eyes. "Do you not want your children to have dragons, Laena?"

"Isn't that why you marry me?" Laena asked with a smirk. Clement turned to her, raising his brow. "What? I'm not so blind to your ambition, husband."

Clement shook his head in amusement. "The king most likely won't give our children any dragon eggs, perhaps some of them could tame one."

Laena couldn't help but chuckle, a melodic sound that betrayed her amusement. Closing the distance between them, she approached Clement with an air of intimacy, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned towards his ear. "Before we continue discussing how our children may acquire dragons," she suggested, her words carrying a hint of playful mischief, "why don't you focus your attention on putting one inside me first?"

Clement was surely taken by surprise, arousal certainly getting a rise out of him. "I thought you hate the thought of getting pregnant."

"I'm six and ten, Clement, not four and ten like before." Laena rolled her eyes. "I have desires on my own. why not intertwine them with our own obligations?"

A soft chuckle escaped Clement's lips as he replied, "I find myself incapable of disputing such reasoning."

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Under the shroud of night, a tempestuous storm devoured the Stepstones, engulfing them in darkness. Rain cascaded from the heavens with unprecedented ferocity, thunder crackling and illuminating the ebony sky, while the relentless wind thrashed the island with untamed fury. Amidst this tumultuous scene, Clement found solace within the glow of flickering candles that illuminated his newly erected abode.

Within the confines of his dwelling, Clement luxuriated in a wooden tub, reclining with his legs gracefully draped over the rim. Steam billowed forth, mingling with the humid air as the heated water caressed his skin, inducing a blissful relaxation of his weary muscles. Meanwhile, his wife, reclined atop their bed, lay bare and glistening with sweat, her countenance etched with exhaustion. She emitted a groan, rousing herself and leaning against the wall, before exhaling a deep sigh.

With a jovial chuckle, Clement inquired, his back gently resting against the wooden tub and his hair meticulously fastened. "Are you faring well, over there?"

She grumbled in response, her voice laden with discomfort and bliss at the same time. "My thighs are numb. It is scarcely believable that this is your first experience. Are you sure that you haven't had any whores at all?"

"I cannot spare any time for such trivial pursuits," Clement stated casually. "I do not want to die of a disease."

"Disease?" Laena questioned, confused.

"Never mind." Clement replied, humming dismissively. "Do you want me to carry you here? The water brings comfort and solace."

"I must decline," Laena scoffed. "I'm afraid I'll only reignite something there."

Clement's amusement manifested in a soft chuckle, triggered by her words. As he immersed himself in the warm water, its soothing embrace eased the tension in his body. The liquid rose as his body slid down to the tub, caressing his chin while he directed his gaze towards the ceiling.

"Laena?" Clement's voice echoed through the chamber.

"What?" she responded promptly.

"I ask you to remain here," Clement said.

Mocking yet tender, Laena retorted, "Does the renowned 'Ser' Clement Celtigar feel lonely amidst this tempestuous island?"

"I speak in earnest," Clement murmured, desiring to cease the flirtation. "I require your aid in safeguarding this place."

Laena arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Safeguarding? Wasn't the war already resolved?"

Clement shook his head. "Do you believe the Crabfeeder is the sole concern? The Triarchy still possesses numerous vessels that can form a formidable fleet, and Dorne remains ever vigilant."

"I see," Laena murmured, her voice now devoid of mirth. "Very well, I shall remain. Claw Isle holds little excitement without you accompanying me anyway."