House of The Dragon: The blind warrior

I felt the salty wind of the sea on my face as I sat on one of the many balconies in the castle of Dragonstone, strumming my lute to the tune of nature.

It was a bit surreal coming back to my family after being away in Essos for so long.

Even though I was too stressed to take in his form while riding Abraxas to Dragonstone, I had felt Luce's weight and body proportions to know he had grown a lot since the last time I saw him.

After the confrontation yesterday, my mother locked herself in the room Lucerys was in, not even offering me a glance or a welcome back. And Daemon, my infamous stepfather, has been unusually quiet.

At least, that's what my grandparents say.

They were happy—more than happy—that I had returned because, after all, everyone thought me dead.

After the incident that happened in Driftmark, where I lost my eyesight, many things occurred.

One of them was the death of my late father, Laenor Velaryon.

I knew there was foul play after my mother married Daemon not even a moon later.

I was still recovering from my injuries and getting used to my impaired vision at the time, but that didn't stop me from confronting my mother about it.

Words were exchanged, insults were thrown, and talk of Jacaerys inheriting the throne was uttered.

In my youthful rage, I thought it smart to fly a young Abraxas to King's Landing, where my grandfather was. But alas, Abraxas was a late bloomer, and he couldn't hold my weight.

We were hit by a storm and carried off with it. I was sure I was going to perish. I might as well have...but a miracle happened, and a group of people found me—or so I thought at the moment.

They were slave traders who found me passed out on a beach in Essos. It didn't take them long to capture me and find a buyer who would spend pretty coin on a person with such Valyrian features. Even though I was considered faulty product because of my eyes.

I didn't stand a chance. Abraxas and I had been separated, and all I knew was that he could be somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.

I was sold to a master who enjoyed buying pretty slaves to put them in the fighting pits.

Thinking it would be funny for a blind person to play in the pits, he threw me right in, and that's where my suffering began.

I was taken out of my musings when someone stepped into my field of vision.

Even though I couldn't see conventionally, I had developed a way of using my other senses, like the sense of smell and hearing, to "see" around me—thanks to a person who was important to me.

What I knew about other blind people was that they also had similar abilities, but none to the extent of what I am capable of.

"My prince," said a familiar Kingsguard, stepping towards me.

"Ser Erryk," I said, still strumming my lute to the sound of the winds. It always calmed me when I had so much to think about.

"The Queen has called for you in the war council," he said, finally realizing that Yue was standing in the corner with his sword strapped to his waist.

After I had settled in yesterday, Lord Corlys had authorized my men to dock and join us in the castle. Even though this wasn't even half of the might of the Sons of Dragons, it had caused some lodging problems.

So, some of them decided to camp at the foot of the Dragonmont, while a portion joined me in the castle to, quote: "Make sure the lord doesn't come to harm."

Finishing the melody on my lute, I stood up as Yue extended my walking stick to me.

The walking stick was long and black, with a sleek, cylindrical shape. Its handle was ornately designed in the shape of a dragon, complete with intricate scales. The dragon theme extended throughout the stick, with subtle engravings of dragons running along its length. Hidden within the stick was a concealed blade, seamlessly integrated and only accessible through a discreet mechanism in the dragon-shaped handle.

"Well then, Ser. Lead the way," I said as we started walking toward the war room, Yue ever vigilantly walking behind me.

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POV(Rheanyra)

She was feeling lost.

She was feeling too many emotions at the same time. Her father had died, her daughter was lost to a miscarriage, and now her son Lucearys was bedridden and heavily injured.

But the one thing that conflicted her the most was that her firstborn son—the one she had mourned and held a funeral pyre for—was alive and well, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

The last time she had seen her boy, he was but a scarred, innocent child who had just lost his father to an accident.

Even though we caused it, she thought.

Now, what she saw made her both proud and afraid.

For what returned was not a child but a man, fully grown and blooded by war and violence.

She was afraid that he still resented her. That he was still angry about what had been done to his father—or what she had suggested after he had gone blind. Rheanyra knew she had to make it right before things went from bad to worse.

Turning to Ser Erryk, who was standing by the door, she commanded, "Ser Erryk, call upon Ser Steffon to summon the council."

Before Ser Erryk could turn around, she called him once more, and with hesitation, she said, "Also, call the crown prince to the council. He needs to be a part of it."

After a nod, Ser Erryk left.

"I hope he can forgive me," Rheanyra said, looking at the sleeping form of Lucearys.

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POV(Vealor)

Walking into the room of the painted table, as its inhabitants argued about the follow-up move they should make after the fiasco with Aemond and Lucerys, was interesting.

As Ser Erryk led me in, the first to notice my presence was my mother, who stood at the center of the room, quiet and red-eyed, showing all the crying she had done.

Ser Erryk stopped as I continued my approach to the table, Yue following close behind before Ser Erryk announced me.

"Prince Vaelor Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone."

The room went quiet as all eyes turned to me walking toward the table with the assistance of my walking stick, even though I could see everything clearly as day.

Stopping at the end of the table and touching where I assumed Dorne was, I felt the heat of the candles from under the table before turning my visor-covered face to my mother.

"Your Grace," I said, leaning my head a bit.

"You called for me," I continued, as I felt all eyes on me.

Her pulse quickened, I thought, as I felt her keep staring at my face.

"How did you know?" she said, finally speaking. The crack in her voice gave away her feelings—she was devastated.

I stood there, looking at an angle I've come to know unnerves people, and the way the person standing next to me's heartbeat accelerated told me it was working.

"Could you be more specific, Your Grace?" I said once again, knowing full well what she was asking me.

"How did you know Lucerys would meet Aemond in the skies?" she asked, clearly this time.

Some of the people in the room also finally realized what the queen was asking me, and they seemed curious, because no one knew Aemond had already gone to Storm's End. I could lie and say I had informants in King's Landing or that Vhagar flying through the skies of Westeros was something anyone could pick up, but they themselves had all that.

"Hmm, yes, that is a valid question," I started, still looking at an angle. If anyone were to pay attention to Yue, they would have seen he was whispering the contents of the map to me.

"Well, a whisperer of mine sent me a raven," I said, listening to Yue tell me about how most of the Reach was under the Hightowers' banner.

"That can't be, because at the time, King's Landing was completely and utterly closed off. Even I found out about the king's death from Rhaenys, who barely escaped by dragon," my mother said, ever so sharply.

"Besides, you couldn't have moved as fast as you did, and your men definitely couldn't have gotten here so fast, unless…" she said, finally realizing something.

"Unless what, Your Grace?" I asked, listening to what Yue had to say about the North.

My mother turned to Lord Corlys, who was observing the interaction between us, before asking:

"Lord Corlys, how long does it take for a sailor to sail from Essos to Dragonstone?"

The reply came instantly. As a sailor who had done the trip more times than anyone could count, he knew it best.

"If the waters are calm and the path is straightforward, it can take anywhere from six to twelve days."

And like an alarm, people started realizing the king hadn't even been dead for three days.

"If that is the case, then it would mean not only did you leave before the king's death, but you left just in time to be able to reach Lucerys's aid," she finally said, while Yue finished telling me about all the allies we had—which wasn't even close to being enough if we wanted to win this war.

Sighing to myself, I finally faced my mother, who, to this point, had been asking me questions I'd already answered years ago.

"I knew," I said, while starting to walk toward my mother, some of the lords looking at me with apprehension as I passed by them.

"How did you know?" my mother asked as her voice trembled lightly—out of anger or fear, I was unsure.

Stopping right in front of her, I realized how small and frail she was. Her heartbeat was fast, but it was also faint.

Even though I resented my mother to some degree, I still loved her with all my heart.

"The same way," I whispered to her, "that I know of the Song of Ice and Fire."

I finished as she stared at me with eyes of shock. What she did next surprised me.

She reached out for my visor and pulled it off, revealing my eyes. As she stared at them, she closed the distance and hugged me for the first time in years.

"Vaelor," she said, her voice cracking once more.

"My son," she continued.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for bringing Lucerys back alive."

"And thank you for coming back to me," she added.

"It is my job as his older brother," I whispered while standing there stiffly, before slowly closing my hands around her.

"Mother," I said before the waterworks started, and the lords deemed it a good time to start clapping.

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After my mother composed herself and Daemon thought it good to join us, the council meeting started, and, to put it simply, it was chaos. The lords had no respect for my mother and her authority.

I was standing on the left side of my mother, close to where my grandparents stood next to my cousins, Yue behind me just observing their every move.

"We need to send a message, Your Grace. What the traitor Aemond did to Prince Lucerys needs to be answered with blood," said Ser Alfred Broom.

"I agree, Your Grace. We cannot let this stand. The prince has been crippled for life, and his dragon slain. We need to retaliate."

Comments like that kept coming and coming, but my mother didn't budge because she knew the consequences starting a war held. Yet I also knew the troubles it would bring if this war was not fought. The realm needed stability.

"We can retaliate," I spoke from where I was standing. All eyes turned to me. There was still mistrust among some of the lords about how I knew of Lucerys and the king's death.

Even Daemon looked on with something akin to hesitation when I spoke.

"Do you mean to ride your dragon, my prince?" Lord Celtigar asked, to which I shook my head.

"The greens don't know whether Lucerys is alive or not," I started. "Aemond only saw Vhagar attack both Arrax and Lucerys. He didn't see me and Abraxas—we were swift."

And it was true. When Abraxas had shot his plasma blast, he had done so fast enough that it looked like Vhagar only closed his mouth halfway before letting Arrax's corpse and Lucerys's broken body fall.

"We use that to our advantage," I continued. "We tarnish the name of Aegon the Pretender and his cause by spreading the word that Aemond is a kinslayer, who killed his nephew in cold blood," I said, making some of the lords look at me strangely.

"In turn, all the faithful lords and the Faith will be against them," my grandfather, Lord Corlys, said while turning to me.

"Yes, and even though they may not side with us, they will at least be in a position that will make them vulnerable—able to be picked off one by one," I said, smirking at the end, Yue also letting out a chuckle.

"But that would mean we have to fool every lord and lady," my mother said, concerned.

Turning to look at my mother, I said, "If a lie is what it takes to bring the balance of the realm back, then so be it."

There was silence after, and my mother, now in deep thought, asked Daemon, "Do you have contacts in the City Watch?" to which he nodded.

"Good. Tell them to spread the word. Let them spread it in the taverns they drink in and to the whores they bed. The rest will come in time," she said, before the planning commenced once again. Yue, who was behind me, leaned in to whisper something.

"What about the Riverlands?" he asked. It was true—the riverlords were a tricky bunch. They didn't—or rather couldn't—follow their liege lord because of his health situation, and the boy Tully was anything but ready to take up the lordship. They were also a rowdy bunch and quick to conflict, so they needed someone to guide them and give them discipline, which they'd never truly had.

I was taken out of my thoughts when my grandfather asked me something.

"What of the Sons of Dragons, Vaelor?" he said while I turned to him.

"What of them, my lord?" I asked, not hearing his question because of my train of thought.

"Are they ready to fight if the need arises?" he said, this time making sure to voice what everyone at the table was most likely thinking.

I was silent for a moment, clearing my thoughts of the Riverlands for another time before answering.

"My men are able and strong. Whether it be on sea or land, I can promise you no army in Westeros can stand a chance against the full might of the Sons of Dragons," I said, gaining a nod from him.

"That's good and all, but the problem stands if that's all the men you have," Ser Alfred said, pointing at the outside where my men were making camp, before continuing, "They could not stand against an army of the great houses combined," He continued.

"Hmm, yes, that would have been the case if that truly was the full might of the Sons of Dragons, but I never said it was," I said, getting a few looks before Baela, who until now had been quiet, asked the question.

"That's not all of your men?" she asked, sounding hopeful, and if the feeling I picked up was anything to go by, so were many others.

Turning to my cousin, whom I had only spent a couple of moons with, I answered truthfully, "This is only a quarter of my men. I have commanded General Ignis to send word to the rest of my men to cross the Narrow Sea. They will be here in around a fortnight."

"How many more men, Vaelor?" my mother asked me, to which I replied:

"Seventy thousand more men with around four hundred sixty-seven ships," I said lightly, but there was a pin-drop silence in the room.

"By the gods," Lord Celtigar said, in shock.

"This changes things," Rhaenys added.

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Walking along the coast of Dragonstone, where my men had made camp, I couldn't help but worry about the coming battles.

The battle at Rook's Rest—where my grandmother would lose her life—loomed over my thoughts.

It would be an ambush, orchestrated by the Kingmaker and Aemond Targaryen. The pretender king himself would also be there. It could be a golden opportunity to take down both Vhagar and Sunfyre in one strike, but the battle would be too unpredictable—as is often the case with dragons.

We didn't have many battle-hardened dragons like Vhagar on our side, except for Caraxes and Abraxas. Meleys was a fierce dragon to take into battle—fast, agile, and ridden by an experienced rider—so there might be a chance. If Daemon, Rhaenys, and I mounted our dragons against Vhagar, lives would be lost, but we might succeed.

The only problem was... I didn't trust Daemon. He was the last person I wanted to associate with when it came to planning. Too stubborn, too power-hungry—he wouldn't follow orders. That option was out of the question.

"My lord," a voice broke through my thoughts.

It was Ignis, jogging toward me.

"What is it, Ignis?" I asked as he came to a stop.

"Word from House Mallister," he said, extending a rolled-up missive.

Feeling the parchment with my gloved hands, a smirk crossed my face. This was good—very good. House Mallister had agreed to bend the knee on the terms of a marriage pact, which could be easily arranged, and a trading deal with the Sons of Dragons. I was sure Yue could draft something favorable.

"This is good news, Ignis. I'll present this at the next council meeting. You've done well," I said.

"Thank you, my lord, but..." he hesitated, a flicker of confusion in his tone.

"But what?"

"Why the Mallisters? We already have enough ships. Why them specifically?" he asked as we started walking along the coast, the hustle and bustle of the camp providing a lively backdrop.

"It's because of the Riverlands. The Mallisters are an influential house," I explained.

"Even though the riverlords don't like each other, they respect House Mallister for defending them. The Mallisters are the first line of defense when the Ironborn attack."

I paused, catching the scent of a dragon in the distance. Seasmoke, I thought.

"They are also a loyal and trustworthy house under the Tullys. If we secure their support, we can likely gain the Tullys' as well," I continued, as Seasmoke's distant screeches echoed through the air.

"And the last point is... by showing we can be generous with our deals, other houses—like the Freys and Blackwoods—will come seeking opportunities with us. Which will, in turn—"

I stopped mid-sentence as Seasmoke began flying toward us. I knew it was him because I could hear his heartbeat, closing in rapidly.

"...slowly turn the Riverlands to our side," Ignis finished, clearly following my train of thought.

Seasmoke flew dangerously close before a powerful gust of wind halted him before me, his warm breath brushing my face.

"Seasmoke," I said, removing my glove. With one hand gripping my walking stick, I extended the other to the dragon I had ridden so many times as a child.

Seasmoke sniffed my hand before inching closer, pressing his snout into my palm. I stepped closer and hugged his side, the familiar warmth enveloping me.

"Ñuha rūklon issa," I whispered. ("I've missed you.")

The dragon let out an audible purring sound as I stroked his neck, his scales warm beneath my touch.

"My lord... is that safe?" Ignis asked nervously.

I heard the sound of steel as some nearby guards drew their swords.

"Sheathe your blades!" I commanded sharply. "This is Seasmoke—my late father's dragon."

The men hesitated, but I continued, resting my head affectionately against Seasmoke's flank. "He might as well have raised me himself."

Stepping back slightly, I added, "I've ridden him so many times that I'd have been worried if he didn't recognize my scent."

Seasmoke took off again, his powerful wings sending a gust of air rippling through the camp as he climbed into the sky.

"Won't Abraxas get jealous?" Ignis asked, a hint of humor lacing his voice.

I smirked faintly. "Let me worry about Abraxas and his personality. You worry about assigning guards to my family. I want additional men posted to the queen and the princes."

Ignis nodded but hesitated again when I added, almost absentmindedly, "I have a feeling the queen won't be safe, even in her castle. A foe with a familiar face may ambush her."

His expression darkened. "Aye, my lord," he said before heading off to carry out my orders.

I stood there for a while, listening to Seasmoke's cries as they echoed across the coast.

"Yes," I muttered to myself, "a foe with a familiar face..."