14 Chapter 14

Chapter 14

History books mention the names of various men who fought in wars. They write of The Sword of The Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Black Hound, Ser Sandor Clegane, and Ser Barristan the Bold.

They write of Kings and Queens like Jaeaherys Targaryen, the Conciliator. Aegon the Conqueror. Aerys the Reformer. Daeron the Young Dragon. The Good Queen Alysa.

These names are plastered across books along with those of villains such as Meleys and Daemon Blackfyre and the grandsire pretender that came after them. Yet it is a tragedy that the books fail t mention the name holding the most significant importance among them all.

Serra Blackfyre. Sister to Daemon IV Blackfyre, who also used the name of Varys in his youth. She was among Meleys, the Monstrous's daughters and had been sold alongside her brother into slavery. She would serve in the pleasure houses of Lys before getting bought out by one Ilyrio Mopatis, who would go on to marry her because of her unnatural beauty.

Various scrolls mention that King Aerys, in his reign, tried to put an end to the issue of Blackfyre pretenders. Some say he offered them a peaceful way out, yet more lean towards the history that the King sent assassins after Serra Blackfyre and her brother to end this issue once and for all. It cannot be confirmed whether the assassins were truly hired, and if so, then why did they fail? But there is no failing that Serra Blackfyre bore King Aerys and his children a grudge, and she would plot with her brother to have them pay.

0000

SERRA BLACKFYRE

In one of the manses in the perfumed city of Lys, a silver-haired lady sat on a balcony looking at the streets below. She watched as women stood outside their brothels in clothes that showed more than they covered, as they basked in the attention of the men passing through the streets.

The perfumed City had once been an outpost of the Valyrian freehold and had served as a resting place for the dragonlords. And so the city was filled with people bearing exotic silvery blonde hair and those glistening amethyst eyes, evidence of the Valyrian blood running in their veins.

She herself had been blessed with those features, much like her brother. And now her son.

There was a knock on her door, and there was only one person who would disturb her, and she spoke up to welcome him in.

"Come in, Daemon," and the door opened to reveal the form of her brother. Dressed in a black doublet with a bald head walked her brother, Daemon Blackfyre. Though once he had been known by another name, Varys. Yet those names were behind her.

"The Greyjoys are failing as I told you they would, and now they are onto us," she began as soon as he closed the door. She had advised him against using the Greyjoys. Those so-called sailors and pirates had dreams of grandeur yet had no intellect or perseverance to achieve them.

Daemon smiled and shrugged.

"You may be right, but they were the only Highlords who made common cause with us," replied Varys as he walked and sat on a chair opposite to her. She turned to face him with a raised brow.

"And now you refuse to reply to any of their missives as Aerys's son lays siege to their castle," she challenged him softly, and Daemon smirked.

"Well, what can I say? They were good allies, but war demands sacrifice, and we shall sing songs of their gallant sacrifice," he said as he poured himself some Dornish Red and raised a glass to their fallen allies. She shook her head.

"I don't mind their fate, but this is troublesome. Aerys's son will become aware of our plans and our names soon. We need to strike now," she told him. And she saw his mood sour at the mention of that name. And her own gur lurched in anger and hate as she took that name.

Aerys Targaryen. The bane of their existence. The man who had sent assassins chasing after them and had destroyed their lives. She still remembered those sleepless nights as she and her brother would be forced to sleep in the shadows, scared and hungry as they tried to outrun those daggers aimed at their backs.

City after city, manse after manse. They had run until they were forced into slavery and lost their very names. And now they had finally gotten their revenge. And as she thought of the cost of that, her eyes teared up as she thought of her husband, the man who had rescued them from their poverty. Yet Aerys hadn't even spared him and had sought to destroy her dear Ilyrio's businesses all for refusing to sell him those wretched eggs.

"Even after his death, his ilk continued to cause problems for us. First, that second son, Aemon, escapes from Euron, and now Rhaegar lays siege on Pyke. Even from his grave, he haunts us," she cursed the bastard as her brother's lips thinned as well before he slowly replied to her.

"I am sorry for the sacrifice you had to make. I know you love Ilyrio dearly, but the faceless men work in mysterious ways. They wouldn't settle for anything else," he replied, and she nodded as she wiped away the tears from her face.

"I know. But promise me, Daemon, promise that we shall have our revenge. Promise me that his sacrifice shall not be in vain, that you will burn his ilk and legacy to the ground," she asked her brother, who nodded.

"I promise, Serra. I will destroy everything he held dear, and then we shall fulfill the dream of our great ancestor, and the Iron Throne shall finally pass to its true heir, your son Haegon," and she nodded at those words. They had waited for years for this, and now she could finally see that their dreams were in their grasp. They had the Golden Company at their back and the coffers of a number of prominent magisters from Myr, Pentosh, Lys, and Tyrosh.

"So, what do you plan to do now that those Greyjoys have failed," she questioned him about her plans. Daemon smirked as he sipped his wine and leaned back in his chair.

"Ohh, they were just meant to be a distraction!"

0000

RHAEGAR TARGARYEN

The events after the defeat of Victarion Greyjoy had gone as he had predicted. After the death of their commander, the Iron Fleet had crumpled quickly under the combined might of the Royal and Lannister armies.

And now Rhaegar sat in a tent as the men laid siege to the main seat of House Greyjoy. The castle of Pyke had been under siege for a week now, and according to his sources, the castle had enough stores that they could live for half a year. And Rhaegar did not have that time.

So, they had to strike now, as the morale of his men had never been higher. So, here he sat as he looked at the map, trying to determine the strategy for the next attack.

Ultimately, he decided to sit down to enjoy some much-needed rest as there was still some time in the war council. As he sat down, his eyes landed on the sword placed right there on the table. He picked up the famed Red Rain. And took it out of its sheath and was mesmerized by the smoky pattern of the Vlayrian steel blade.

Their House possessed two swords in Blackfyre and Darksister, yet both had been lost in history. His father had spent quite some time searching for them and even found a lead to one of them. Though he knew little about that, and perhaps his mother would know more.

As he was busy glancing at the blade, he didn't notice the sound of armor rustling as the tent flapped open, and he looked up to find Arthur walking in with a frown on his face, making him put the sword back in its sheath.

"What happened?" Rhaegar questioned the Commander of the Kingsguard, and Arthur walked up to him and handed him a missive.

"This just came from the capital. It seems Renly Baratheon has betrayed us and made common cause with our enemies," and Rhaegar was surprised by the news. Renly Baratheon, Robert's younger brother, had betrayed them. But why?

He took the missive and began to read it, and there was the mention of his attempt to control Storm's End and capture Cersei and her children. It was a relief that the House guards had thwarted the attempt and Cersei Baratheon.

"This caught us all by surprise. Lord Robert Baratheon was planning to pull back his forces and rush back home, but Aemon wrote to Doran to make the man stop. The increased activity near the Stepstones makes it a high-risk area. One which needs reinforcements quickly," Arthur began, and Rhaegar nodded.

"Qyburn has also been telling me of increased activity near the Stepstones. The movement of the Golden Company and the other mercenary groups points to a quick offensive," and Arthur nodded.

"Oberyn is managing right now, but he won't be able to hold back such a massive force for long. We need to end the battle here quickly so we can finally bring them to heel," Arthur's words were right. They needed to end their business in the Iron Islands quickly to move ahead.

"We could ask the North to call its levies and reinforce Oberyn…." But Rhaeagr shook his head, cutting off his friend.

"No, I don't want the North to mobilize in this war," Rhaegar put an end to that proposal, and Arthur didn't push for further for all of all the people in the realm he was most aware of his reasons for doing so.

If his father had been right, there was little reason to doubt that he was. The lands beyond the Walls were a wildfire ked waiting to blow up. The Free Folks' congregation and then the Long Night's possible return were reasons enough that the North remained out of this war.

"Speaking of the North, Eddard Stark has returned from his journey to the lands beyond the Wall. There is news that he is now rushing to the Capital on behalf of the Starks to convey the condolences of the Starks to the Royal family," and Rhaegar's eyes narrowed at that. That was good news.

"That is good. Now, we will have an idea of the situation beyond the Wall. Though, I am less concerned about them, for we have been preparing for that fight for years now," Rhaegar said as his fingers rhythmically tapped the board. He missed playing his harp, yet he had more pressing matters at hand.

Despite the obscure nature of the threats beyond the Wall, Rhaeagar wasn't much concerned about them. His father had been preparing to face them for decades, putting them way ahead of their enemies. Yet, they had been playing catch up in the current war against their enemy abroad.

And that was not sitting well with him.

"Since the attack on Kingslanding, we have been playing catch up with our enemies, and I am not liking this at all," Rhaegar said with a grunt, and Arthur nodded along as well.

It was amongst the first rules of warfare to not get caught up in the enemy's pace. And while they had been victorious in the battles and had thwarted all of their enemy's plans. They needed to act instead of just reacting.

And that meant doing something unexpected. Rhaegar looked up at Arthur, a plan forming in his head.

"We tracked the messages going out of Pyke, right?" Arthur nodded.

"Yes, they were headed to Lys and Myr. We suspect that's where the heads of this conspiracy are," Arthur replied, and Rhaegar nodded.

"Good, then I want you to write a letter to Lord Brynden Tully," Rhaegar ordered, and Arthur's eyes widened before he replied.

"Are you sure about this? Is it the right time to use this," Arthur questioned him, and Rhaeagr nodded as he began to strap up his armor.

"Yes, it is. We are going to use protocol Stab. Write to the Blackfish and have it all arranged," he said, and Arthur nodded. And then Rhaegar picked up his helm, and he began to walk out of his tent.

"Let's break open this castle. It's time Baelon Greyjoy saw what being a dragon really means."

0000

Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, is quite an interesting character in the histories of the Seven Kingdoms. Brother to Houster Tully, he was a high-ranking noble of Riverlands. Though, after the War of the Ninepenny Kings, he decided to venture to the disputed lands and form a mercenary group.

Only later would it be revealed that it hadn't been his plan but rather King Aerys, who wanted to have a military might across the ocean. There would be no communication between them over the years, and only in King Rhaegar's times the connection would begin to unravel.

The company was formed by a man called the Black Knights and wasn't the strongest in the disputed lands. Yet grew to considerable strength over the years, and some suspect that the King's patronage was one reason for this, yet no evidence has been unearthed to support this theory.

In the 800 AC, the magisters would outlaw the presence of any mercenary groups in the disputed lands and would absorb them to form a military. The Black Knights would dissolve as well, and would go into obscurity, yet many say that they still exist, active and waiting for a call to arms in times of need.

0000

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