The Stronghammer - CH - 80

Distance was never a concern for the dragonriders of Stormrage. Where armies trudged for weeks through rugged terrain, a dragonrider could cover vast distances in mere hours. The cities of the empire—Norvos, Qohor, and Lorath—felt closer than ever, connected not by roads but by the sweeping wings of dragons.

Every moon, the rulers of the three conquered cities were summoned to Zeagan, the Stormrage capital. The grand council meetings were held in the Hall of the Lion, where Robert Stronghammer sat at the head of a vast round table, surrounded by the lords and commanders of his realm.

The arrival of the dragonriders was always a spectacle. Citizens of Zeagan looked to the sky when the shadows of dragons passed overhead. Cannibal, Arya, Vermithor, Caraxes, and Vhagar would circle the capital before descending to the courtyard. The thundering of wings became synonymous with the power of Stormrage.

Inside the hall, Robert greeted his sons and allies as they arrived. Daemon Targaryen was always the most flamboyant, entering with his usual swagger and a devil-may-care grin. Eddard Stormrage, calm and composed, followed closely behind. Aemond, though younger, carried himself with a pride befitting a lord, but still retained a youthful eagerness.

As the council gathered, Robert addressed them.

"How fares Qohor?" Robert asked, looking at Daemon.

Daemon leaned back, casual as ever. "The city prospers, brother. The forges are busy, the traders have returned, and no one dares speak against Stormrage. They know better."

Robert nodded. "And Lorath, Aemond?"

Aemond straightened, his voice firm. "Holden Cross has been invaluable. He guides me well. The ports are bustling, and the merchants are grateful for the patrols. Bandits no longer dare harass the island."

Eddard chimed in next. "Norvos is steady. The common folk appreciate the new order, but the noble houses still grumble. They’re slowly realizing that order comes at the cost of their arrogance."

Robert gave a wry smile. "Let them grumble. So long as they bend the knee and pay their dues, I care little for their complaints."

Daemon raised a brow. "And what of Westeros? Any word from the Targaryens?"

Robert shrugged. "Viserys is relieved. With both you and Aemond ruling in the East, he thinks we’ll stay out of his affairs. A smart man. He sent a letter recently, congratulating us on our success."

Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. "He must be thrilled to see me ruling a city. Always worried about what to do with his second son."

Robert clapped his shoulder. "You’re more than just a second son now. You’re a lord. Remember that."

After the council meetings, Eddard and Aemond often spent time together in the courtyard. Their dragons, Arya and Vermithor, rested side by side, occasionally snapping at each other in mock annoyance.

"I still can’t believe it sometimes," Aemond admitted, running a hand through his silver hair. "A year ago, I was just a boy trying to earn his place. Now I’m the Lord of Lorath."

Eddard grinned. "You’ve done well. Holden Cross speaks highly of your training."

Aemond smirked. "He doesn’t go easy on me."

"Good. That’s why you’re getting stronger."

When they weren’t in Zeagan, the two young lords often visited each other’s cities. The journey from Norvos to Lorath took barely a day on dragonback, and their friendship grew stronger with each visit. Aemond admired Eddard’s tactical mind, while Eddard respected Aemond’s growing courage and skill.

One evening, during a quieter moment in Zeagan, Eddard received a formal letter from Daemon. After reading it, he turned to Aemond, who was practicing his sword forms nearby.

"I’m betrothed," Eddard announced.

Aemond looked up, curious. "To whom?"

"Baela Targaryen. Daemon’s daughter."

Aemond’s eyes widened. "Your father agreed?"

Eddard nodded. "It makes sense. Strengthening ties with the Targaryens keeps Westeros from seeing us as a threat. And Daemon’s made it clear that Baela will be a strong consort."

Aemond couldn’t help but smile. "That makes us almost brothers, then."

Eddard smirked. "Not quite yet. But one day."

The two shared a brief laugh, knowing that while politics could be complex, their friendship remained simple and strong. The Stormrage Empire was stabilizing, and with every moon that passed, the bonds between its leaders grew tighter. And as long as the dragons soared above, the empire remained unchallenged.

The Red Keep was buzzing with tension. The grand hall, usually filled with the murmur of courtiers and the clinking of goblets, now echoed with heated discussions. King Viserys Targaryen sat upon the Iron Throne, his fingers rubbing his temples as the lords of Westeros squabbled around him.

"Your Grace," Otto Hightower insisted, his tone firm and unwavering. "If we are to send aid to young Aemond in Lorath, it must be composed solely of trusted men—men who understand loyalty to the Crown."

Viserys gave him a weary look. "You mean men loyal to you, Otto."

Otto stiffened but did not back down. "Aemond is young and impressionable. If we do not send the right people, we risk others influencing him away from his duties."

Lord Beesbury snorted from the sidelines. "It sounds more like you want to control the boy than help him, Otto."

Viserys raised his hand, silencing the debate. "Enough. We are not sending a ship filled with Hightower men alone. Aemond must learn to rule Lorath as a lord, not a puppet. The ship will carry learned men—scholars and fighters—chosen from across the realm. They must be academically strong, skilled in combat, and devoted to his education."

Otto looked ready to argue further, but a new voice interrupted.

"And what of his family?" Queen Alicent stepped forward, her face set in determination. "It has been more than a year since I last saw my son. You cannot deny a mother the right to visit her child."

Viserys sighed. "Alicent, it is not as simple as you think. The journey to Lorath—"

"Is one I am prepared to take," Alicent interjected. "I am not asking for permission, husband. I am telling you that I am going."

The room fell silent. Even Otto looked surprised at her boldness.

Viserys opened his mouth to object, but Alicent pressed on. "And I am taking my children with me. It will be good for her to see her brother."

Viserys looked at Alicent’s unwavering face and knew that there was no point in arguing. He rubbed his forehead. "Very well. You may go. But only for a few weeks. Once you’ve ensured Aemond is managing well, you will return."

Alicent smiled triumphantly and gave a slight curtsy. "Thank you, husband."

As the preparations were made for the ship, the courtiers whispered among themselves. It was clear that Otto was not pleased with the decision. He had planned to place his own men in Lorath, consolidating Hightower influence. Now, the mission was a mixture of scholars, warriors, and loyal men from various houses.

In his chambers, Crown Prince Aegon brooded. His mood had been sour ever since he heard of Aemond’s success in Lorath. It irked him to no end that his younger brother—a boy barely old enough to shave—was ruling a Free City and gaining recognition as a lord. Meanwhile, Aegon remained stuck in the Red Keep, his claim to the throne still uncertain.

When Helaena entered the room to discuss their journey, Aegon didn’t even look at her.

"You’re going to see Aemond," he muttered. "Going to see the great young lord."

Helaena hesitated. "He’s still our brother, Aegon. You should be happy for him."

Aegon scoffed. "Happy? That he’s out there building his own legacy while I’m here? Father still refuses to name me his heir, still clings to Rhaenyra’s right to the throne. Meanwhile, Aemond is conquering cities."

Helaena approached cautiously. "Perhaps this journey will help you. Seeing Aemond might remind you that we’re still a family."

Aegon just grunted, looking out the window. He didn’t reply, but deep down, the resentment continued to fester. He knew that as long as his father refused to change the line of succession, he would remain nothing more than the king’s troublesome son.

The ship was prepared within days. The crew was composed of loyal and skilled men chosen from various noble houses, with a focus on scholars and guards who could assist young Aemond. Queen Alicent and Helaena were given private quarters on the ship, and Otto made sure that at least a few of his most trusted guards accompanied them.

As the ship set sail from the harbor, Alicent stood on the deck, watching the Red Keep grow smaller in the distance. A part of her worried for Aegon, left behind and more bitter than ever. But another part couldn’t wait to see her youngest son, to ensure that he was safe, happy, and thriving in his newfound role.

Meanwhile, back in the Red Keep, Viserys remained on the throne, troubled by his family’s fragmentation. In his heart, he hoped that Aemond’s new responsibilities would not only shape the boy into a man but also help unite his family once more.

The ship cut through the choppy waters of the Narrow Sea, its sails full and taut as the wind carried it onward. It was not alone—flanking the queen's vessel were two sturdy warships, their decks lined with armed men, eyes sharp for any sign of danger. The Iron Sea Dragon, as the flagship was named, carried Queen Alicent, Princess Helaena, and a carefully selected group of scholars and guards. Behind it, the Sea Viper and the Northern Gale maintained formation, ever vigilant against pirates or raiders.

Queen Alicent stood at the prow, the salty breeze ruffling her hair. Helaena was beside her, leaning on the railing and watching the waves crest and break.

"I’ve never been on a ship before," Helaena said quietly, tracing a finger along the wood.

Alicent smiled softly. "It’s strange, isn’t it? The constant motion. But it’s not so bad once you get used to it."

Helaena glanced back at the crew moving efficiently around them, adjusting ropes and calling orders. "Will Aemond be happy to see us?"

Alicent looked out to the horizon, her eyes thoughtful. "He will be. He’s my son. He may be a lord now, but he’s still my little boy."

In the background, Ser Lancel approached, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace, the captain reports that we should reach Braavos by dawn. We’ll restock there before making the final journey to Lorath."

Alicent nodded. "Good. I want this journey to be as swift as possible. Aemond needs us."

As night fell, the ship’s lanterns flickered against the dark sea. Below deck, the queen and princess were given private quarters, while the guards took turns keeping watch. The rhythmic creaking of the ship lulled most to sleep, but Alicent remained restless, her mind consumed with thoughts of her youngest son.

The next morning, the ships approached the sprawling harbor of Braavos. The Titan loomed high above, casting a massive shadow over the fleet as it passed beneath the great statue. Sailors muttered prayers, as was customary, and Helaena watched the imposing figure with wide eyes.

"It’s enormous," she whispered.

Alicent nodded. "Braavos is a city of wonders. I visited once when I was younger, before I married your father. It hasn’t changed much."

The harbor was bustling as the ships docked. Braavosi guards approached, their spears gleaming in the morning sun. The captain stepped forward to present their papers, and after a brief inspection, they were given permission to resupply.

Ser Lancel joined the queen as they disembarked. "Your Grace, it might be wise to remain aboard. Braavos can be unpredictable."

Alicent shook her head. "I want to stretch my legs. A short walk will do us good. Besides, we are under the Iron Bank’s protection here."

The crew set to work loading fresh water, dried fish, and other supplies while Alicent and Helaena walked the bustling docks. Braavosi traders shouted about their wares, and the scent of fish, spice, and leather filled the air. Helaena was fascinated by a street performer juggling knives, and Alicent couldn’t help but smile at her daughter’s curiosity.

Just then, a cloaked figure approached, bowing low. "Your Grace," the man said quietly, revealing the silver pin of a Braavosi official. "The Sealord offers his greetings and wishes you a safe journey. He also wishes to remind you that Braavos remains neutral in all matters of Westerosi politics."

Alicent gave a polite nod. "The Sealord’s consideration is appreciated. We do not seek to involve Braavos in our affairs. We are merely traveling to visit my son."

The official nodded, satisfied, and melted back into the crowd. Helaena looked up, puzzled. "Why are they so cautious?"

Alicent sighed. "Because they fear conflict. Braavos may be rich and powerful, but they prefer to remain out of Westeros’s squabbles."

As the sun set, the ships set sail once more, leaving Braavos behind. Unbeknownst to most of the crew, Prince Aegon had joined the journey at the last moment, driven by a sudden desire to see the world. His presence had been unexpected, and even Queen Alicent was surprised when he insisted on coming along, arguing that he had a right to see how his younger brother was managing. Aegon spent most of the journey brooding on deck, often keeping to himself. Occasionally, Helaena would try to speak to him, but he remained mostly silent, his thoughts clouded by his own frustrations and jealousy. The crew relaxed slightly now that they were in safer waters, but the guards remained vigilant. That night, Alicent dined with Helaena and Ser Harwin in the captain’s cabin, discussing what they might find in Lorath.

"Aemond has always been proud," Alicent mused. "He won’t admit if he’s overwhelmed. We’ll have to see for ourselves how he’s truly managing."

Lancel nodded. "From what I hear, he’s done well. Holden Cross has been guiding him. The boy’s in good hands."

Helaena glanced up. "Aemond always wanted to prove himself. Maybe this is his way of doing that."

Alicent reached over, taking her daughter’s hand. "I just hope he’s happy."

Aegon, who had been lingering near the cabin door, finally spoke up. "Of course he’s happy. He’s a lord now. Got his own city to rule, his own people bowing to him. What wouldn’t he be happy about?"

Alicent turned to her eldest son, concern etching her features. "Aegon... it’s not as simple as that. Ruling is a burden as much as it is a privilege."

Aegon scoffed. "Funny how it doesn’t look like a burden when he’s out there making a name for himself, while I’m stuck in the Red Keep waiting for father to decide whether I’m worthy or not."

Ser Lancel exchanged a glance with Alicent, but said nothing. Helaena reached out, trying to touch Aegon’s hand, but he pulled away. "I’m just saying... he’s doing what I should be doing."

Alicent sighed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You will have your own path, Aegon. Your father’s choices do not diminish who you are. You are his son, and that will always matter."

Aegon looked away, his jaw clenched, before muttering, "We’ll see."