27 Chapter 27: Peace and Prosperity - 112 AC 

A/N: Alright, here comes the actual new chapter. anyway, again, can't promise fast updates.

On the serene afternoon, the azure sky stretched overhead, untouched by a single wisp of cloud. The once tempestuous waves had relinquished their fury, gently lapping against the shore. A warm breeze, a departure from the usual icy gusts from the north, caressed the air, imbuing the atmosphere with a comforting embrace. Atop the towering lighthouse, its fire blazed ferociously, invigorated by the wind, casting its guiding glow across the expanse. Ships emerged on the horizon, their approach towards the port of Brakyore undeniably visible. Among them, a singular vessel commanded attention, proudly displaying a banner adorned with a crimson three-headed dragon upon a field of ebony.

It was the Targaryens. King Viserys, as sick as he is, has come on the invitation of the lords of Claw Isle and Driftmark, to the tourney that is to be held, commemorating the establishment of a new title, the triumph over the stepstones, and the belated revelry marking the union of the two Valyrian houses of the Blackwater Bay. Of course, the king was not to be expected to come, it was mere formality to invite the sovereign over an occasion like this, after all, the king had his own pressing responsibilities. Yet here he stood, his banner undulating in the sea breeze near Claw Isle.

Viserys positioned himself by the ship's railing, his pallid countenance contorted as he violently expelled the contents of his stomach into the depths of the sea. Standing faithfully at his side was Lord Lyonel Strong, the king's unwavering Hand, proffering a handkerchief to wipe away the residue clinging to Viserys's mouth. Once the king had finished his unceremonious ordeal, he cast his gaze upon the approaching town. In the distance, the modest lighthouse emitted a smoky glow, while patrol vessels diligently safeguarded the territorial waters. Festive adornments adorned the isle, displaying banners of House Velaryon and House Celtigar, strewn haphazardly near the port. Carriage after carriage transported nobles and merchants alike to the nearest taverns and inns, offering temporary respite, while others ventured towards the central castle of the isle, seeking accommodation from its proprietor.

A wearied chuckle escaped Viserys's lips. "The Celtigars and Velaryons have certainly surpassed themselves," he mused. "Claw Isle never appeared so... developed during my previous visits. Perhaps it would be wise for me to consider appointing Lord Bartimos or Ser Clement as Master of Coin in the near future, should Lyman resign or find himself in an... unfortunate circumstance."

Lyonel nodded in agreement. "House Celtigar has held the position of Master of Coin many times since Aegon the Conqueror, Your Grace. Although, I must admit, not all of them excelled in the role."

The king simply hummed, "Well, there's no doubt that the current Celtigars are up to the task, unlike their predecessors." 

Another wave of sickness washed over the king as he vomited toward the sea below, using his hand to clean up. Viserys groaned, wiping his mouth with the handkerchief Lyonel had given him, and moved away from the railing.

"We're nearly there, your grace," Lord Lyonel assured.

The king nodded, "What about Rhaeny—"

Before the king could finish his sentence, a resounding roar echoed through the clear skies, and a yellow dragon swiftly passed the ship Viserys was on. Princess Rhaenyra had arrived at Claw Isle with her young dragon Syrax, soaring in between the thin clouds above.

Viserys sighed, looking at the dragon quickly flying away from the ship's location. He held onto the railing once more due to the wind created by the dragon, shaking the ship.

"Claw Isle should be ready to host multiple dragons ever since Ser Clement married Lady Laena," Lyonel stated, helping the king stabilize himself. "You need not worry, your grace."

"It is not the dragon that I'm worried about, Lyonel, It's the girl who's riding it." Viserys mused, shaking his head. "And the man trailing behind her with his own beast."

Barely a moment passed before another dragon swiftly soared in Syrax's wake, its crimson scales gleaming in the sunlight, its piercing screech echoing across the serene sea skies. Caraxes and his rider, Daemon, were quick to follow suit.

======

Within the confines of Crab's Return, Clement found himself standing in a decorated room. He adorned a flowing robe in the colors of his house, a striking combination of blood red and gray, accented by a glistening golden chain that elegantly connected the two sides of his attire. It wasn't just Clement who occupied this space; his entire family had gathered there. His wife, children, father, and even his in-laws were present, sharing in the occasion. 

Princess Rhaenys, standing near the window, cradled a goblet of wine in her delicate hand as she observed her son, Laenor, engrossed in play with Laena and Clement's newborn daughter, aptly named Rhaena after herself. A faint, contented smile graced her lips as she watched Laenor tenderly hold the infant, swaying her gently and gazing lovingly into her tiny face. The handsome young man himself wore a smile, evidently sharing in the joy for his own sister.

Meanwhile, Lord Corlys, Clement's father-in-law, too directed his gaze towards his own son and heir, his expression devoid of any sign of mirth. Clement could discern that the Sea Snake was engaged in contemplation as he observed the scene. However, as if emerging from a trance, Corlys shifted his focus to the window, his eyes fixing on the meticulously crafted field in the distance, purposefully constructed to host the forthcoming tournaments and jousts. The expanse was adorned with myriad banners representing the noble houses of the realm. Yet, among the sea of colors, the sigils of House Celtigar and House Velaryon dominated, their gray and red, or aquamarine hues elegantly draped over the elevated platforms designated for the lords and ladies in attendance.

"The sea remains tranquil during this season, basking under the radiant sun," Corlys remarked, his attention drawn to the serene vista outside. "You have chosen a propitious week for the tournament."

"Merely a coincidence," Clement replied with a casual shrug.

"Or perchance the gods have blessed our revelry," Corlys proclaimed, a subtle smile gracing his lips. "Although I must confess, I would have preferred the tournament to be held on Driftmark."

"One of the reasons behind our current merriment is the acquisition of a title my father has secured, good-father, as well as the celebration of my daughter's birth," Clement chuckled. "Our revelry extends beyond our triumph over the Stepstones. Would it truly be deemed appropriate if I were to host it on Driftmark?"

"I suppose you are correct," Corlys mused, his gaze returning to the newborn, his eyes now brimming with curiosity. "Have we received any tidings from the king?"

"No." Clement said, his mood instantly dropped. "The Red Keep has been quiet ever since my daughter was born, but I suppose we will hear from the king soon. What of Daemon?"

"What of it?" Corlys inquired. "He's been holed up in the Red Keep for a good while. He's grown rather idle. Though, word has it his bond with the king has soured, likely owing to Daemon's extended separation from his lady in the Vale. Seems the king desires a nephew from his own blood, a favor Daemon hasn't granted him."

Clement responded with a light-hearted chuckle, dismissing the notion. "I harbor serious doubts about such aspirations. Daemon is hardly a suitable fit to sire an offspring from such a relationship with Lady Royce, and the king knew that. There must be more to the story."

Perplexed, Corlys arched an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Clement, with a nonchalant demeanor, offered a simple explanation, "The princess is rapidly approaching a suitable age for marriage."

Corlys, still puzzled, frowned. "I fail to discern the connection between these two facts."

Clement, maintaining his composure, smiled at Corlys's words. However, before he could elaborate, a knock echoed through the chamber, diverting everyone's attention towards the door.

"Enter," commanded Bartimos, who had previously engaged in small talk with Princess Rhaenys. The door slowly creaked open, revealing a member of House Celtigar's household guard.

The knight, acknowledging all the nobles in the chamber with a slight bow, directed his attention to Bartimos. "My lord," he greeted, "a ship bearing the Targaryen banner has been sighted, it is approaching the port as we speak."

Upon hearing this, Bartimos turned his gaze first to his son and then to the Sea Snake. Eventually, he looked back at the knight and simply nodded. "Very well. Prepare the carriage. We shall extend our greetings to the arriving ship."

With a bow, the knight complied with Bartimos's directive before shutting the door upon his departure from the chamber.

"It appears the king has indeed graced us with his presence," Bartimos remarked, turning his attention to his son, Clement. "It is indeed a profound honor that His Grace has chosen to journey from King's Landing to join us for this occasion."

Corlys chimed in with a smile. "He is renowned for his love of celebrations, Bartimos, especially of such grandeur, he would not miss it. Let us extend our warmest welcome to his grace."

Suddenly, a resounding roar echoed from outside, capturing the attention of all within the chamber. Turning towards the windows, the group beheld two dragons frolicking in the skies above the island—one adorned in yellow, the other in crimson. Clement recognized the crimson dragon as the Blood Wyrm, belonging to Prince Daemon, and the yellow one…

The Sea Snake appeared bothered by the sight. He was narrowing his eyes, his mind thinking something that the others couldn't easily read.

"It seems the princess Rhaenyra has also graced us with her presence," stated Laena, rising from her seat. "I shall go forth to greet her."

Her husband shook his head. "You needn't journey, Laena. Allow my uncle to take care of it."

"I gave birth months ago," Laena retorted. "I am far from being a cripple."

Clement sighed, casting a glance at Laena's mother, Rhaenys, who only bore an amused expression. "Very well," he conceded. "Bring Arthor along with you."

"Laenor, you should accompany your sister," Corlys interjected calmly, prompting the young man to nod in obedience.

Upon hearing Corlys's suggestion, Clement merely raised an eyebrow but refrained from voicing any objections, instead turning his attention back to the group. "Then let us hasten to extend our greetings to the Targaryens upon their arrival to our shores."

======

Syrax's landing was distant from her intended destination, finding herself upon the shores of Claw Isle, opposite Brakyore's location and not where Vhagar currently resided. The sea's warm breeze flowed through the spaces between the she-dragon's scales as she gracefully inclined for her rider to dismount, her steps imprinting deep into the sand, prompting startled crabs to scurry from her wake.

As Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen alighted, Syrax adeptly moved aside to avoid any accidental harm, a testament to her training. Yet, the princess swiftly approached her dragon again, her touch upon Syrax's neck exuding elegance, eliciting what appeared to be contentment from the beast. Eventually, the princess turned her gaze seaward, relishing the tranquil atmosphere, the gentle caress of the salty air, and the tousle of wind through her hair, finding solace in this serene moment.

However, the peace was short-lived as another dragon, Caraxes, landed nearby, his sinuous form eyeing his companion before bowing for his rider to descend. Daemon descended with poise, striding towards the princess with a demeanor that was both playful and composed, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his trusty sword.

"We weren't meant to land in this spot, Princess," Daemon remarked, his lips slightly curling with amusement.

"Indeed, uncle. I simply sought a brief solace," the girl replied, her tone mirroring the Rogue Prince's playful demeanor. "But why, then, did you choose to follow? This isn't your intended landing spot either."

"I am here solely to ensure your safety," Daemon replied casually. "Dangers may lurk in any corner, particularly for a king's daughter such as yourself. The Kingsguard cannot trail your dragon, hence the responsibility falls upon me."

Rhaenyra chuckled, a hint of a blush gracing her cheeks as she gestured towards her dragon nestled behind her. "I have Syrax at my side, uncle. Surely, you're aware. She stands as a presence right behind me, if that wasn't apparent enough."

"I am not oblivious, Princess," Daemon retorted with a smile. "Yet, we are in the vicinity of Blackwater Bay, where wild dragons may emerge at any moment, driven by hunger. And let us not forget, Vhagar now claims Claw Isle as her domain."

"Such matters are inconsequential. Vhagar is not untamed; she bears a rider," Rhaenyra countered, her laughter growing louder. "Your excuses amuse me, uncle."

Daemon shook his head, beguiled. "And what excuse do you offer for your presence here? Your father would not approve of your reckless wandering."

"I've stated it before, uncle," Rhaenyra replied, her smirk almost taunting. "To seek solace, which you promptly disrupted."

Drawing nearer, Daemon stopped before her, his hand reaching to examine the necklace adorning Rhaenyra's neck, their proximity almost intimate. Then, in a whisper, he spoke, "Does my presence bother you? Then I shall depart."

Rhaenyra's smile widened, her gaze momentarily drifting away. "Well..."

Before she could respond, a carriage suddenly arrived nearby, causing the two to pivot their attention towards it. Bearing the unmistakable insignia of House Celtigar, the carriage disgorged three figures as its door swung open. Leading the trio was none other than the lady of the isle herself, Lady Laena, accompanied by her brother, Laenor, and Arthor Celtigar, the latter appearing somewhat overwhelmed by the scene unfolding before him.

With a gracious smile, Laena approached the two Targaryens standing by the beach, while Laenor and Arthor remained composed, quietly observing. Coming to a halt a short distance from Caraxes, Laena directed her gaze towards the princess.

"Welcome to Claw Isle, Princess," she greeted, before turning her attention to Daemon. "And to you as well, Prince Daemon. Though I must say, you've chosen quite an unconventional landing spot for your dragons."

"Good morrow, Lady Laena, my apologies," Princess Rhaenyra responded, slightly distancing herself from the prince. "I was merely enjoying the splendor of the Narrow Sea, and it seems my uncle deemed it necessary to follow me to ensure my safety."

"Oh?" Laena arched an elegant brow, a faint smile playing upon her lips. "How considerate of the prince."

Rhaenyra glanced towards Daemon with a hint of amusement. "Indeed. A gesture perhaps unnecessary."

"The heir to the throne must always be safeguarded, my lady," Daemon countered somewhat half-heartedly.

Laena simply responded with a serene smile before turning her attention back to Rhaenyra, her gaze shifting to the yellow dragon behind her.

"If you wish for your dragons to remain here, I can summon the household knights to stand watch," Laena offered. "We can also arrange for cattle to be brought to feed them."

The princess regarded Laena with interest before nodding thoughtfully. "That would be most suitable, Lady Laena. I believe Syrax would find the scenery quite pleasing."

Laena nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to Daemon. "And what are your wishes, my prince?"

Daemon replied, "Then Caraxes shall remain here as well."

"Very well. Upon our arrival at Crab's Return, I shall see to the necessary arrangements," Laena declared. "Shall we then proceed to enter the carriage then?"