Chapter 77: A Tale of Blood and Monsters Ch. 21
She's waiting for me out on the balcony, when I wing Elijah close enough to drop down from above, gently as a feather, not even cracking the stone beneath my feet. As my utterly massive dragon wings off towards the volcano known as Dragonmont, I spread my arms wide, grinning wickedly.
"Elia! You're looking splendid my de-oomph!"
She doesn't actually drive the air out of my lungs or anything like that when she impacts my body like a missile a moment later, wrapping her arms around me in a powerful hug. But I cut myself off anyways to make the over-dramatic sound, as if she's taken my breath away. Elia doesn't fall for it though, looking up at me with a knowing spark in her eyes, even as the olive-skinned Dornish Princess grins wickedly.
"I've been waiting for your arrival, my Emperor. Dragonstone is yours."
Humming as I hug her back, I raise an eyebrow at that.
"Is it now? Didn't have any trouble with the Targayen Loyalists then?"
Breaking apart, I allow Elia to lead me off of the balcony, even as she turns her nose up into the air, smirking airily.
"Some… but they were dealt with. Those who would not bow to Rhaegar's wife are gone. The island obeys me… and I am ready to hand it over to you. After all, no one fired upon your dragon as you approached, now did they?"
I chuckle and shake my head. It was true, despite Dragonstone having perhaps the most scorpions of any castle in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms, not a single ballista had been fired at Elijah and I as we made our way here. I'd wondered, but then I'd also known Elia was here… and that her utter loyalty and devotion to yours truly would manifest itself in some way similar to this. I certainly wasn't expecting a fight here at Dragonstone… and it looked like I wasn't getting one. Good.
"They did not. Have you prepared Rhaella for me then?"
Here, Elia hums, that spark of mischief in her eyes only growing, as does her wicked smirk.
"Rhaella has been content to let me play ruler of this island. She's been holed up in her rooms with Viserys ever since I brought news of King's Landing and the Lannister betrayal. Though frankly, I think she's not as beat up about Aerys' death as she might act. She's just afraid to let herself rejoice. I remember how she wailed and grieved when news of Rhaegar's death reached us in King's Landing. By comparison, finding out that Aerys was dead and the Rebellion victorious… there was barely any reaction at all."
Humming once more, I consider Elia's words for a long moment as we walk down a hall. There are several Targaryen Guards who spot us and freeze in place, wide-eyed and dumbfounded as they take in my appearance. I can tell that most of them think me to be Rhaegar reborn at first glance, especially with Elia at my side to complete the picture. By the time it dawns on them that I am not a Targaryen, but the Valyrian Emperor himself, I've already met their eyes and compelled them, one by one.
As we walk and talk through the halls of Dragonstone, the last of those knights and footmen loyal to House Targaryen become loyal to me, falling under my sway one by one by one.
"Well, by now, she's fairly far along in her pregnancy, isn't she? I suppose I'll wait for her to give birth. Seems like a good time as any to turn her, after all. Besides, we're waiting for one more arrival anyways."
Elia's eyebrows raise at that, even as she gives me an inquisitive stare.
"Are we now?"
But I don't give any more hints, winking at her and grinning, even as I push through the large double doors at the end of the hall, entering Dragonstone's throne room. The seat upon which Targaryen Lords sat for hundreds of years is certainly an impressive one… as a matter of fact, I would go so far as to call it more interesting then the mound of melted swords they called the Iron Throne. Carved into a rather intriguing rockface, it gave one a certain presence, didn't it?
With the denizens of the castle now fully under my control, I sit down upon my new seat. Dragonstone is now mine, after all, in the eyes of everyone everywhere… save for two more individuals. Smirking at that, I beckon forward Ser Willem Darry, the man now utterly my servant.
"Ser Darry… please escort Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys here for me, would you? There's things to be discussed."
He bows and leaves to do as he's been bid, while Elia drapes herself across the rock beside me, leaning her head to rest on my shoulder and stroking her deft, feminine fingers across my chest.
"Do you want me to go and get Rhaenys and Aegon as well? Or… what do you wish done with t-them, your majesty?"
Even as she asks, I hear the uncertainty and hesitance in her voice. Elia Martell is my creature, has been my creature since she fell into my lap all those years ago. I'd taken her and turned her before she could even meet Rhaegar, before she could ever fall in love with him or have her heart broken by him. As such, she loved me more than anything in the world… probably.
Children could do funny things to a woman. I knew that from experience. All in all, would ordering the death of Elia's children by Rhaegar's loins be enough to snap the sire bond in twain and turn the Dornish Princess against me? It was a curious thing, because truth be told I had yet to find a hybrid in this world that could turn against me. The closest in existence was Lyanna Stark now, and even she was hopelessly, magnetically attracted to me, even now.
At the end of the day, it didn't really matter, because it wouldn't be tested. Reaching up, I take Elia's hand in mine, detecting the faintest tremble as I turn to look her in the eye, smiling gently.
"Your children will be raised as royalty, my dear Elia. As befits their Dornish blood. And one day, if they wish it, they may rule some small part of my empire. An Emperor is always in need of reliable governors to delegate to, at the end of the day."
She does an admirable job of hiding the ever so slight shudder of relief as she gives me an answering smile and nod, but I notice it all the same. Elia never fell in love with Rhaegar, but that doesn't mean she didn't fall in love with her children. No matter… there was still plenty of room in my world for Targaryens, even if there were men in Westeros who would have preferred the House brought to an end. Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister, just to name a couple…
It's around that time that the door opens and Rhaella Targaryen, along with her youngest son Viserys, are brought inside. Ser Willem Darry is behind them, and it looks as if he had to force them from their rooms, though he has not actually drawn his blade. Rhaella looks bewildered and worried though, while Viserys…
"You can't treat mother and I like this Ser Darry! When my father finds out, he'll have you burned alive! Maybe I'll have you burned alive myself!"
Willem doesn't so much as give the little princeling a second glance as he looks to me and bows at the waist.
"The Queen and Prince, your majesty."
Both Rhaella and Viserys' heads whip around so fast I would expect them to have a mild case of whiplash afterwards. Watching their expressions is interesting, to say the least. Much like with so many of the soldiers inhabiting Dragonstone's halls, at first glance they see someone with Valyrian features next to Elia Martell and they think Rhaegar Targaryen. But in the end, that moment passes, and they realize I am not he… they realize who I REALLY am.
Or at least, Rhaella does. Seeing Rhaella's hopeful face fall as the widowed Queen takes on a crushed visage, her eyes growing even more worried as they flicker between me and Elia is a sight to behold, to be sure. I can tell immediately that despite her utterly horrid lot in life, this woman before me is not a vapid creature. She is not slow or dimwitted… she's just never had a chance to shine.
Viserys meanwhile, upon realizing I am not Rhaegar, takes a step forward, scowling and glaring at me as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"You aren't my brother. Who are you?"
The precocious five year old would almost be cute if I didn't know the unstable mad man that he would one day grow up to become. Was he doomed to follow his father's footsteps, or could he be changed? Children were so malleable… if Viserys could be saved from himself, now would be the time to save him.
"No, Prince Viserys. I am not Rhaegar Targaryen. I am however royalty, as your Ser Darry noted when he named me 'his majesty'. So, given that and given my Valyrian heritage, think long and hard and tell me who I am, won't you?"
Viserys' brow furrows and the young boy thinks, scrunching his face up visibly in contemplation. Just as his eyes are widening, understanding dawning in them, Rhaella pushes past him, a surprising amount of vitriol in her own gaze, as well as her words. All of it is directed at Elia rather than me, however.
"Did you ever love him? Did you ever love my son? Or were you always this man's pet?"
Beside myself, I can feel Elia's hackles rising and being who I am, I let her speak, thriving a bit on the drama if I'm being honest.
"Emperor Vali, my liege and now yours as well, is far more than a man, your grace. I am honored to be called his pet. I imagine you will soon feel the same."
Rhaella's nostrils flare… but then she almost seems to collapse in on herself. Not literally, she doesn't fall to her knees or anything like that. But that momentary vitriol, that second of rage directed at Elia… it vanishes in an instant, replaced with a defeated but proud woman. Rhaella holds her head high, but with a weariness that speaks of a woman ready to be done with it all.
I can see why she doesn't survive childbirth… after everything, she doesn't look like she has the strength for it. Not physically, not emotionally, not mentally.
"What… what is to be done with us then, your majesty?"
Viserys looks between his mother and I with a deep-set frown and, unable to hold his tongue, pipes up.
"Mother! Why are you paying respect to the Emperor of Valyria?! Father always said he was a filthy Blackfyre pretender after our family's throne!"
Rhaella shudders and her violet eyes close shut at her child's utterly brash words, as if she expects me to fly into a rage and order Ser Darry to cut off Viserys' head. When I chuckle instead, her eyes snap back open and it's obvious to see she's surprised by my response. Viserys meanwhile, looks to me as I laugh at his expense, growing red in the face and scowling at me.
… I've never been much of a kid person, I suppose. Leaning forward in my throne, I grace Viserys with my falsest smile.
"Your father is dead, boy. So is your brother. You, however, are not. Do you know why that is?"
Viserys' frown grows as he answers me.
"Because… because father sent us here, to Dragonstone, where we would be safe."
Shaking my head, I gesture around the room.
"Tell me, young princeling… do you feel safe right now? I want you to really think about it. Does this situation feel safe to you?"
To his credit, Viserys does as I suggest. He even looks around, brow furrowed in furious concentration as he considers me and Elia, and then his silent, withdrawn mother… and them Ser Willem Darry, who'd escorted them here on my orders, who even now had his hand on the pommel of his sword. When Viserys finally looks back at me, I see fear finally beginning to blossom in the young boy's eyes as he stutters out a response.
"… N-No…"
My grin widens, while Rhaella grabs Viserys and pulls him to her tightly, some spark of life returning to her, a mother ready to defend her child. Before she can say a single word however, there's a sudden commotion, and then a burst of motion as one of the side doors to the throne room is thrown open and a familiar figure zips in at the speed of hybrid, appearing amongst us in a flash.
Ashara Dayne, mouth and chin bloodied, fangs out and eyes transformed into the gold-black of a hybrid, stands there looking slightly out of breath and also slightly crazed as her gaze flits around the room for a moment, taking in the situation before finally focusing on me. As soon as she clocks me, she drops to her knees.
"Master… I'm home."
The monstrous visage and the bloodied footprints she's tracked in behind her prove to be a bit too much for the delicate and pregnant Rhaella Targaryen. Luckily Ser Darry still has good instincts and catches his Queen as she faints. Viserys whirls around at the sound however, calling out to his mother. Blinking a bit at how Ashara's arrival has completely derailed the moment, I do the only thing I feel I can do.
I throw my head back and laugh. A few moments later, I stop, because while it IS very funny… I know that it's probably not funny to everyone in the room. Elia and Ashara are both smiling, mostly because they enjoy seeing me happy, but Ser Darry is as silent as the grave, and little Viserys is glaring daggers at me. I lean forward again in my throne and meet his gaze, applying just a faint bit of compulsion as I speak.
"You still live, Prince Viserys Targaryen, because I allow it. I joined the man you know as the Usurper's side in his little war with your family because your brother and father insulted me and did me wrong. In return, I was given this island and everything and everyone on it. For the time being, you and your mother have not insulted me and have done me no wrong. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
Viserys' silent answer is a jerky nod, causing me to smile and clap my hands together.
"Wonderful! Ser Darry, take them back to their rooms. The Queen clearly needs her rest."
As Willem carries Rhaella from the throne room, a much subdued Viserys trailing behind, I look to my right and then my left, meeting the exceptionally gorgeous faces of my utterly beautiful paramours. Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne, undeniably two of the most beautiful women in my collection right now. Chuckling, I wrap my arms around body and draw them in close, all too ready to begin making up for lost time.
-x-X-x-
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