The Flight Of Black Ravens II

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~~~(POV: Raenon Targaryen)~~~

~~~(Location: The Narrow Sea, Dragonstone, Westeros)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 17 Years)~~~

~~~(Date: 301 AC)~~~

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSHH!!

My hair is blown back as Rhaenys dives through the clouds and twists her body to spin. The saddle is proving to have been wise to build. Until now, it's been something I didn't want with my dragon. Now, it's needed.

Rhaenys is getting too big to ride without a saddle. Raevor is almost in a similar state. It's been two weeks since we sent out the ravens, and they've arrived at their destination. We've even received some in return.

Most are claiming their support for Joffrey, but a few don't wish to die. Strong survival instincts are important. They're the reason I'm alive.

We level out over the water, and Rhaenys tilts her body to let the end of her wing glide through the water. Pulling it up a few seconds later. Dipping her left foot into the water and letting it skim through the surface.

I look over the edge as best I can, and they're fish and whales passing quickly below. My gaze lifts from the water and turns toward Dragonstone. House Velaryon should be arriving in the next few hours.

My she-dragon senses my will to return to the Dragonmont. She turns her large body toward the island and flaps her wings hard.

It's not more than half a minute before we're back on Dragonstone. Rhaenys lowers her body for me, and I hop off. The black leather of the saddle matches her scales perfectly.

I reach my hand up and place it on the side of her snout. She leans into me. Nearly knocking me over in the process. I can't help letting out a laugh. Rhaenys is my first and oldest friend. My best friend besides Dany.

Rhaenys will always have my back. No matter what happens. My dragon is someone I can always rely on.

"Time that I head back to my family. Enjoy the open skies. Don't burn any incoming ships, okay?"

A quick snort is what I get in response. There are times to speak to your dragon in Valyrian, and there are times you don't. I talk to Rhaenys in my mother tongue when we're in battle or a serious situation.

It wasn't always that way, but I figured it was best to separate times of rest and times of battle with my dragon.

As I step away, she spreads her large wings and jumps off the Dragonmont. Leaving me to traverse the ancient steps myself.

The walk back to Dragonstone takes around an hour. There are soldiers and camps training as I walk by. Most of the army is settled, and they're just waiting on my orders now. After my meeting with Monterys Velaryon, I'll give my first order.

~~~(POV: Robb Stark)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 21 Years)~~~

~~~(Location: Small Council Tent, The Riverlands, Westeros)~~~

~~~(Date: 301 AC)~~~

"We can't wait any longer. We have to cross into the South and take Kings Landing before Raenon brings his armies and dragons from Dragonstone. The longer we wait in The Riverlands, the easier it'll be for him to come for us."

Stannis makes the point that most of us are arguing about. His only goal is to get The Iron Throne. Whether it costs him his life or not. The lives of his men. My men.

We're heading to Kings Landing to make Tywin, and The Lannisters pay for what they've done to Westeros. Killing my father. Destroying peace and sanity. Inciting chaos and gaining control. There is no correlation between my goals and Stannis's goals.

The last time I saw Raenon's dragon, it was a bit larger than a carriage. I hear that it's bigger than a Braavos Warship now.

"What do you think Raenon is planning?"

A question calmly leaves my lips as all the debating around the room stops. The answer is clear to me. One that should be clear to everyone else. However, no one is seeing it.

"He doesn't see Joffrey or Tywin as his greatest threat to The Iron Throne. He sees Lord Stannis as the greatest of his foes. The one that can destroy everything he's trying to build. What do you think would happen if you get The Iron Throne first?"

That's when people start to sit down and contemplate on my words. Raenon isn't going for The Lannisters first. He's coming for Stannis and me.

The strategic part of me is saying to reach out to Tywin and offer an alliance. That same part of me is saying he'll just use that chance to remove Stannis and me from the board. There are no allies in Tywin's eyes. Only subjects and puppets.

"He's not planning to invade Kings Landing. He'll come to The Riverlands. Looking for us."

Stannis hits the nail on the head. Releasing a sigh as his hand runs through his balding head. There is a lot of shit coming our way. However, that doesn't mean we don't have options. My father once told me that no person other than a Northman could survive in the North.

We can take our armies back into the North. Fortify our strongholds. His armies are from Essos, and they've never fought in the cold. Same for The Martell forces he has.

However, exhaustion will take our soldiers. Going back and forth from the North and into the Riverlands causes problems in itself.

"What do you say about reaching out to The Greyjoys? Their fleets are intact, and we'll need them. We can go the long way around and enter Westeros from the South. Taking everyone and everything by surprise."

Brynden is right.

The fresh pain from The Greyjoys is still with me. Took my home. My lands. Almost destroyed my family. I didn't think I'd ever have to ask them for anything. At any point in my life again. This is the smart move.

The question now...

Do The Greyjoys hold allegiance to anyone other than themselves...

~~~(POV: Tyrion Lannister)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 37 Years)~~~

~~~(Location: Small Council Chambers, The Red Keep, Kings Landing, Westeros)~~~

~~~(Date: 301 AC)~~~

Father and I are sitting with the rest of The Small Council. Varys, Pycelle, Littlefinger, and Aurane Waters. Joffrey is here, as well. But he's hardly interested in anything that's being discussed. It's been difficult since Cersei left.

She was the only one that had any relative sway over my cursed nephew. Now, he spends his days delighting himself in the torture of others.

His wives are hardly around. Queens, both of them. Father said they'd served their purpose, and he has their family's soldiers. Now, they've been locked away in The Red Keep.

"This declaration from Dragonstone... How long until Raenon brings his forces to our gates? At this rate, I'm convinced he'll do anything to retrieve his family's throne. Even if it means burning most of Kings Landing in the process."

Littlefinger brings up a point I've been interested in, as well. My attention turns to Varys, and I wait for information he's sure to have.

"With Cersei and her children at Casterly Rock, it's a fallback point in case we lose Kings Landing. I doubt Raenon will take anyone of Lannister's name or blood hostage or prisoner. It's only a matter of time."

Pycelle says what we're all thinking. Raenon has already won The Iron Throne. His only threats are Stannis Baratheon.

"It's not whether or not Raenon will kill Lannisters and Baratheons. It's who he decides to spare. He can't leave power vacuums in every part of Westeros. It'll incite Smallfolk rebellion. That's what we need to use. The Smallfolk against House Targaryen."

Littlefinger is right. That's the only viable strategy we have left. It comes down to a coin flip. Whether Raenon is as mad as his father. Will he burn every one or find another solution?

~~~(POV: Daenerys Targaryen)~~~

~~~(Location: The Narrow Sea, Dragonstone, Westeros)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 17 Years)~~~

~~~(Date: 301 AC)~~~

The flag of House Velaryon on the few ships docking off our shores takes my attention. This will be the first time Rae and I meet someone descended from Old Valyria along with our House. They may not be as mighty, but they are kin.

Daenys sleeps in her crib as Rae stands beside me with his hand on my lower back. The gentle breeze enters through the window and takes some of the heat away.

"Monterys Velaryon is the last legitimate son of his House. I don't know how he'll act or accept us, but he has more ships and our first strong connection to Westeros."

In Essos, the concept of bastards doesn't exist. However, Westeros is far different from Essos. In that regard, I can see why there would need to be legitimacy if every cheating husband or loose woman bore a son of a noble house's name.

Things would become complicated. Politics in Essos are foreign to Westeros.

"He's not very old, Rae... Only around nine years... Already Lord of the Tides... How are we supposed to gain anything from a boy not ten years old yet?"

It's hard to think about after I learned about Monterys story. He's not a grown man yet. He should be spoiled by his mother and disciplined by his father at this age. Instead, he's alone with a bastard half-brother in Westeros.

Trying to take his throne from him. Already has in many ways. The only reason Monterys is alive is cause Tywin doesn't want to waste troops pushing Aurane's claim.