Kapitel 21: Chapter 20
King Viserys sat in his chambers, meticulously working on his wooden model of Old Valyria. The intricate details of the ancient city absorbed his attention, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows over the model. The king found solace in this craft, a connection to his ancestors and a symbol of Targaryen heritage.
A knock at the door pulled him from his concentration. Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, entered with a grave yet excited expression. "Your Grace, the fleet that conquered the Stepstones can be seen on the horizon," he announced.
Viserys looked up, a mixture of relief and anticipation crossing his features. "And the dragons?" he asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.
Ser Ryam nodded. "The dragons are with them, Your Grace. They are descending from the clouds as we speak."
At that moment, loud roars echoed through the Red Keep, resonating through the stone walls. Viserys and Ser Ryam moved to the balcony, where they could see the sky.
The sight was awe-inspiring. All six dragons—Gaelithox, Vhagar, Meleys, Caraxes, Syrax, and Seasmoke—were descending from the heavens, their majestic forms breaking through the clouds. They circled the city of King's Landing, their scales catching the light of the setting sun, making them glisten like jewels in the sky.
The dragons' roars were deafening, a symphony of power and victory. It was as if they were announcing their triumphant return, celebrating the hard-fought conquest of the Stepstones. The city below buzzed with excitement and awe as the citizens looked up, their faces reflecting a mix of fear and reverence.
Viserys watched in silent wonder, his heart swelling with pride. The return of his kin and their dragons signified not just a military victory, but a reinforcement of Targaryen dominance and unity. The sight of the dragons flying in formation, strong and unbroken, filled him with a sense of hope for the future.
"Prepare to receive them," Viserys said to Ser Ryam, his voice steady. "Let the people see their heroes return. This is a day to be remembered."
Ser Ryam bowed and hurried off to make the necessary arrangements. Viserys remained on the balcony, watching the dragons complete their lap of victory. As they began to descend towards the Dragonpit, he knew that this moment would be etched in the annals of history as a testament to Targaryen strength and resolve.
The fleet, now visible on the horizon, approached the harbor, their sails billowing in the wind. The combined presence of the dragons and the fleet signaled a formidable display of power and coordination. The dragonlords and their riders had returned as victors, their dragons' roars continuing to echo through the city, filling every corner with their triumphant sound.
Below, the citizens of King's Landing had gathered in the streets, their eyes wide with awe and admiration. Children pointed to the sky, their faces lighting up with excitement, while their parents whispered tales of the dragons' might and the bravery of their riders. Market stalls came to a halt as vendors and customers alike craned their necks to witness the spectacle. The city guard, usually stoic and composed, found themselves grinning, unable to contain their pride.
The dragons, led by the majestic Gaelithox and the venerable Vhagar, landed one by one in the Dragonpit, their immense forms settling with grace despite their size. Dragonkeepers rushed forward, guiding the great beasts to their designated areas and ensuring their comfort after the long journey. The ground shook as each dragon landed, the sheer power of their presence a tangible force.
Viserys could see Daemon, Rhaenyra, Laena, and the others dismounting from their dragons, their armor gleaming in the waning sunlight. They were met with cheers and applause, the sound rising like a wave from the assembled crowd. Daemon, ever the warrior, raised his sword in acknowledgment, his fierce smile visible even from the distance.
Rhaenyra, beside him, exuded a calm confidence, her bond with Syrax evident in the gentle way she patted her dragon's neck. Laena stood tall and proud, a warrior in her own right, the bond with her dragon Vhagar a testament to her strength and courage.
Corlys, ever the strategist, was already directing his sailors, ensuring that the fleet was secured and ready for the next steps. His presence, commanding and assured, brought a sense of order and discipline amidst the celebration.
Jaehaerys, though exhausted from his exertions, managed a proud wave to the people, his expression determined despite the toll the Fiendfyre spell had taken on him. His leadership and the powerful magic he wielded had been crucial to their victory, and he bore the respect and admiration of all who saw him.
As Viserys descended from the balcony and made his way to greet the returning heroes, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and unity. The Targaryens had proven their might, their dragons a symbol of their enduring power. Together, they would build a future that honored their legacy and secured their place in history.
—
Jaehaerys, still feeling the weight of magical exhaustion but recovering rapidly, settled into the plush seat of the carriage that would take him from the Dragonpit to the Red Keep. The journey, though short, offered him a moment of respite. Beside him, Rhaenyra and Laena sat, their concern for him evident in their expressions and actions.
Rhaenyra leaned in closer, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of lingering discomfort. "Jaehaerys, you should rest more. You've done so much already," she said, her voice a blend of admiration and worry.
Laena, seated on his other side, nodded in agreement. "Rhaenyra is right. Your strength and magic saved us, but you need to take care of yourself now," she added, her hand gently resting on his arm.
Jaehaerys managed a faint smile, appreciating their care. "I'm alright, truly. The spell took its toll, but seeing our family and dragons safe brings me more strength than any rest could," he replied, his voice soft yet resolute.
Rhaenyra, ever the attentive betrothed, reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. "You're too modest, Jaehaerys. What you did was incredible. You must promise to let us help you more, though," she said, her touch tender and reassuring.
Laena chimed in, her tone lightening to lift his spirits. "Consider this your first royal decree as our future king: you must listen to us when we tell you to rest," she teased, her smile brightening the carriage's interior.
Jaehaerys chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in his muscles. "Very well, my queens-to-be. I shall heed your counsel," he said, his gaze shifting between the two women. "Thank you both for being here. Your presence is the greatest comfort I could ask for."
As the carriage rolled through the streets of King's Landing, the cheers of the citizens echoed outside, celebrating the return of their dragonlords. The sight of their beloved heroes and the majestic dragons circling the city had ignited a wave of jubilation and relief.
Inside the carriage, Rhaenyra and Laena continued to dote on Jaehaerys, ensuring he was comfortable and at ease. They spoke of their plans for the future, the stability they would bring to the Stepstones, and the legacy they would build together. Each word and gesture was filled with love and a shared determination to support one another through the trials ahead.
By the time they reached the Red Keep, Jaehaerys felt significantly better, bolstered not just by his rapid physical recovery, but by the unwavering support of his betrothed. As they stepped out of the carriage, the sight of the Red Keep, resplendent under the afternoon sun, greeted them. The grandeur of their home served as a reminder of their duty and the strength they drew from one another.
Hand in hand, they made their way inside, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in their purpose and strengthened by their bond.
—
King Viserys Targaryen sat at the head of the Small Council table in the Red Keep, his expression a mix of pride and relief as he awaited the arrival of the "Heroes of the Narrow Sea." The council chamber was abuzz with anticipation, the air heavy with the scent of parchment and beeswax candles.
At Viserys' side, his Hand, Otto Hightower, maintained his usual composed demeanor, though his thoughts were inscrutable behind a carefully masked facade. Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, stood nearby, his white cloak draped regally over his armor, a silent sentinel to the proceedings. Lord Lyman Beesbury, Master of Coin, and Lord Lyonel Strong, Master of Law, sat in their respective seats.
King Viserys tapped his fingers lightly on the polished wooden table, his mind racing with plans for the festivities and the future of the conquered territories. As the chamber doors swung open, a hush fell over the assembled councilors.
Jaehaerys Targaryen walked in, his presence commanding the room. Flanking him were Daemon Targaryen, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of victory, and Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, his demeanor as proud and resolute as ever.
Viserys rose from his seat, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Welcome, my brothers. Welcome, Lord Corlys," he greeted warmly, his voice filled with pride. "The Heroes of the Narrow Sea return in triumph."
The councilors around the table stood as well, acknowledging the returning heroes with nods and murmurs of respect. Otto Hightower maintained his composed demeanor, though his eyes flickered with a hint of something unreadable.
Jaehaerys stepped forward, bowing slightly to his father. "Your Grace," he said, his voice steady but edged with the weariness of recent battles. "The Stepstones are ours. The Triarchy is defeated."
Daemon, never one to stand on ceremony, grinned. "It was a good fight. They won't be troubling us again."
Lord Corlys nodded in agreement. "Our fleets control the Narrow Sea, and the dragons have secured our dominance. The realm is safe."
Viserys beamed, his pride evident. "You have all done a great service to the realm. Your bravery and leadership have brought us victory. We will celebrate this triumph, and the realm will know of your deeds."
Otto Hightower stepped forward, his expression neutral but his words measured. "Indeed, this is a significant victory for the Targaryen dynasty. The stability of the Narrow Sea is crucial for our continued prosperity."
Jaehaerys met Otto's gaze, his demeanor composed yet resolute. "I have already named my most trusted commanders from the Black Dragon Legion as the Lords of Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh," he announced. "These men have proven their loyalty and capability in battle, and they will ensure the smooth transition of power and stability in these cities."
The councilors murmured in approval, recognizing the strategic wisdom in Jaehaerys's choices.
"I will also be appointing leaders for the other smaller islands within the Stepstones," Jaehaerys continued. "However, Bloodstone will be an exception. On that island, under the supervision of Vaelar and Garth, we are in the process of building a keep. This keep will serve as a stronghold and symbol of our enduring power in the region."
He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering the most significant part of his plan. "This keep will be the seat of my firstborn son with Laena. He will be the Lord of Bloodstone and 'Warden of the Narrow Sea.'"
Viserys nodded in approval, his eyes gleaming with pride. "A wise and farsighted plan, Jaehaerys. Your actions will cement our control and ensure the prosperity of these lands under Targaryen rule."
Lord Corlys spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of his seafaring expertise. "With Bloodstone fortified and the rest of the Stepstones under our control, the Narrow Sea will be secure. Our fleets and dragons will patrol the waters, deterring any who might challenge us."
Daemon smirked, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Let them try. They'll find only fire and blood."
Otto Hightower, his features still carefully masked, nodded in agreement. "The realm owes you a great debt, Prince Jaehaerys. Your strategic thinking and decisive actions have brought us this victory. We must now consolidate our gains and ensure lasting peace."
Jaehaerys inclined his head, acknowledging the support of the Small Council. "Together, we will build a legacy that will stand the test of time. The Targaryen dynasty will flourish, and the Narrow Sea will be a beacon of our strength."
As the councilors returned to their discussions, the sense of unity and purpose in the room was unmistakable. The future of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea was secure, guided by the firm hand of the Targaryen leadership.
—
Meanwhile, Alicent Hightower made her way through the corridors of the Red Keep, her mind occupied with thoughts of the recent victory and the role Rhaenyra had played in it. The tension between them had been palpable for some time, but Alicent hoped that this momentous occasion could be a bridge towards reconciliation. Unbeknownst to her, Jaehaerys had been instrumental in encouraging Rhaenyra to mend their relationship.
Reaching Rhaenyra's chambers, Alicent took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. A moment later, the door opened to reveal Rhaenyra, her expression one of surprise mixed with curiosity.
"Alicent," Rhaenyra greeted, stepping aside to let her in. "What brings you here?"
Alicent smiled warmly, trying to convey sincerity in her gaze. "I came to congratulate you on your exploits during the War in the Stepstones. Your bravery and skill were instrumental in our victory."
Rhaenyra inclined her head, her demeanor cautious yet open. "Thank you, Alicent. It was a difficult campaign, but I'm glad we were able to secure a victory for the realm."
Alicent entered the room fully, taking a seat by the window where the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow. "I also wanted to speak with you," she began, her tone more personal. "I know things have been strained between us, but I hope we can find a way to move past that. The realm needs us to be united, especially now."
Rhaenyra sat across from her, her expression thoughtful. She recalled Jaehaerys' advice, the importance of keeping Alicent close to be privy to her father's schemes. "I've felt the strain as well. There's been much unsaid between us, and I think it's time we address it."
Alicent nodded, relief washing over her. "I agree. The war has shown us how fragile peace can be, and how important it is for us to support one another. I miss the friendship we once had."
Rhaenyra's eyes softened, a hint of nostalgia touching her features. "So do I, Alicent. Perhaps we can start anew, build a foundation based on mutual respect and understanding."
Alicent smiled, genuine and hopeful. "I would like that very much. We can work together to ensure the stability and prosperity of the realm, just as we always envisioned."
For a moment, the tension between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by a shared sense of purpose and the beginnings of renewed camaraderie. The road to reconciliation would not be easy, but both women were willing to take the first steps.
As they continued to talk, the conversation turned to lighter topics, memories of their past friendship, and hopes for the future. The bond they had once shared began to rekindle, a small flame that could grow into something stronger with time and effort.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere between Alicent and Rhaenyra grew more relaxed and familiar. The tension that had previously defined their relationship began to melt away, replaced by genuine warmth and a renewed sense of camaraderie. They spoke of past memories, their shared experiences, and their hopes for the future, finding common ground once more.
Rhaenyra, while brushing Alicent's hair, marveled at how easily the old bond between them could be rekindled. She felt a renewed determination to maintain this friendship, not just for political reasons, but because she genuinely missed the connection they once shared. The loose strands of hair she had discreetly collected lay tucked away in her pocket, a reminder of Jaehaerys' request and the delicate balance she was striving to maintain.
As the sun set and the room grew dimmer, Rhaenyra lit a few candles, casting a warm, flickering light around the chamber. Alicent looked around, her eyes reflecting the candlelight. "It's nice to feel at ease with you again," she admitted softly. "I've missed this."
Rhaenyra smiled, her heart lightened by Alicent's words. "I've missed it too, Alicent. It's been too long since we've been able to talk like this."
Alicent sighed, looking out the window at the darkening sky. "The realm can be such a heavy burden. But moments like these remind me why we endure it."
Rhaenyra nodded in agreement. "Yes, the weight of our responsibilities is immense, but we have to support each other. It's the only way we can manage the challenges ahead."
The two women sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. The conversation had brought them closer, healing some of the rifts that had formed over the years. They both knew that this reconciliation was only the beginning and that maintaining their renewed friendship would require effort and trust.
Eventually, Alicent stood, smoothing her skirts. "I should go. There are preparations to be made for the celebrations tomorrow."
Rhaenyra rose as well, walking Alicent to the door. "Thank you for coming, Alicent. It means a lot to me."
Alicent smiled warmly. "It was long overdue. Goodnight, Rhaenyra."
"Goodnight, Alicent."
As Alicent left, Rhaenyra closed the door behind her, feeling a sense of accomplishment. She had managed to take the first steps towards reconciling with Alicent, just as Jaehaerys had advised. She also had the lock of hair he had requested, though she still did not fully understand why he needed it. Trusting in his judgment, she would ensure it reached him discreetly.
Rhaenyra returned to her seat by the window, looking out at the stars now twinkling in the night sky. The future was uncertain, but she felt a renewed sense of hope. With Jaehaerys' guidance, her own determination, and the rekindling of her friendship with Alicent, she believed they could navigate the complex politics of the realm and ensure a brighter future for House Targaryen.
—
The next morning, Rhaenyra found a discreet moment to pass the lock of Alicent's hair to Jaehaerys. They exchanged a brief, knowing look, and she felt reassured by his confidence. As she handed over the small bundle, Jaehaerys nodded appreciatively.
"Thank you, Rhaenyra," he said softly. "This will help us more than you know."
Rhaenyra nodded, her curiosity piqued but her trust in Jaehaerys unshaken. "I hope it does. Let's make sure our efforts aren't in vain."
Together, they prepared for the celebrations to honor the "Heroes of the Narrow Sea," knowing that their actions behind the scenes were just as crucial as the victories won on the battlefield. The future of the realm depended on their unity, their strategy, and their unwavering commitment to House Targaryen's enduring legacy.
—
Daemon strode into Jaehaerys' chambers, his steps purposeful and his expression unreadable. The room was dimly lit, filled with the earthy scent of herbs and the faint, metallic tang of magic. At the far end, Jaehaerys stood over a cauldron, its contents bubbling softly. He seemed deeply engrossed in his task, stirring the mixture with a careful, practiced hand.
As the door closed behind Daemon, Jaehaerys looked up, his eyes locking onto his brother. "Daemon," he greeted, his voice low and steady. "Did you manage to acquire what was needed?"
Daemon approached, reaching into his tunic to pull out a small, carefully wrapped bundle. "I did," he replied, handing it over. "A lock of Viserys' hair, just as you asked."
Jaehaerys took the bundle, unwrapping it to reveal the strands of their brother's hair. He nodded, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Perfect. This will be crucial for the potion."
Daemon watched him with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "So, are we really going through with this plan? I must admit, it's an interesting way to pour water over Otto's schemes."
Jaehaerys set the lock of hair aside momentarily, focusing on adding another pinch of herbs to the cauldron. "Indeed, we've discussed the necessity of this precaution. Otto's ambitions cannot be allowed to undermine our family's stability. This potion will ensure Viserys and Alicent have six daughters before they can have a son, buying us the time we need."
Daemon crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. "It's a clever move. By the time they realize something is amiss, it will be too late. And with no immediate male heir, Otto's plans will be stymied."
Jaehaerys met his gaze, his expression unwavering. "I'm well aware of the risks. But our enemies grow bolder, and we must be prepared. Ensuring that Viserys has no male heir immediately strengthens our position. This is the best way to ensure it without arousing suspicion."
Daemon nodded slowly, conceding the point. "Just be careful, brother. We don't need any more complications."
Jaehaerys gave him a reassuring smile. "I will. Thank you for your help, Daemon. I couldn't have done this without you."
As Jaehaerys returned to his work, adding the lock of Viserys' and Alicent's hair to the cauldron, Daemon watched in silence. The room filled with the soft glow of the potion, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The brothers stood together, united in their purpose, their resolve steeling against the challenges that lay ahead.
Outside, the Red Keep remained bustling with activity, the celebrations for the "Heroes of the Narrow Sea" in full swing. But within these chambers, a different kind of preparation was underway—one that could tip the balance of power in their favor and secure the future of House Targaryen.
Jaehaerys murmured an incantation, the words ancient and powerful, resonating in the small, enclosed space. The potion shimmered, then settled into a calm, silvery liquid. He carefully poured a portion into a vial, sealing it with wax.
Turning to Daemon, he held out the vial, his expression serious. "Daemon, this is crucial. Make sure to pour this only into Viserys and Alicent's goblets. No one else's. It must be done discreetly."
Daemon took the vial, nodding as he examined it. "I understand. Only Viserys and Alicent. I'll make sure it's done right."
Jaehaerys clasped his brother's shoulder, his grip firm. "This potion will ensure they have six daughters before a son. It's the best way to buy us time and prevent Otto's ambitions from taking root."
Daemon smirked, slipping the vial into his tunic. "Consider it done, brother. Otto won't know what hit him."
With their plan set in motion, the brothers exchanged a final look of solidarity. They both knew the stakes were high, but they were determined to secure the future of House Targaryen and safeguard their family's legacy.
—
In the dimly lit confines of a brothel on the Street of Silk, Mysaria sat at a small table, her slender fingers absently tracing the rim of a wine goblet. Her thoughts were far from the frivolous chatter around her, focused instead on the snippets of conversations she had subtly gleaned from the patrons and workers alike.
It had been a while since she had been Daemon's paramour and spymaster during his tenure as Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks. Though her position had changed, her skills in gathering information had not waned. Tonight, those skills had brought her troubling news.
The air was thick with the scent of incense and perfumes, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the faces of those gathered. Mysaria's dark eyes flickered with concern as she pieced together the fragments of information she had overheard.
Otto Hightower, the shrewd Hand of the King, was involved in a plot alongside the High Septon. Their aim was clear: to stoke public sentiment against Prince Jaehaerys and his use of magic. They intended to exploit fear and superstition to sway the masses, paving the way for the reinstatement of the Faith Militants.
The implications of such a plan were grave. The Faith Militants had historically wielded considerable influence and power, often at odds with the monarchy. If they were to regain prominence, it could destabilize the delicate balance of power that Viserys had struggled to maintain.
Closing her eyes briefly, Mysaria considered her options. She needed to relay this information to someone who could intervene, someone who understood the intricate web of politics and power in King's Landing.
Without hesitation, she rose from her seat, her movements fluid and purposeful. Ignoring the curious glances that followed her, she made her way out of the brothel and into the darkened streets. Her mind raced with the urgency of her mission—to find a way to protect Prince Jaehaerys and thwart Otto Hightower's dangerous scheme before it could plunge the realm into chaos once more.
As she vanished into the shadows of the Street of Silk, Mysaria knew that her role as a spy and informant was far from over. The game of thrones continued unabated, and she would play her part to ensure that those she once served and cared for remained safe in the face of looming threats.
---
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Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Rangliste 
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Stein