High Tide, Chapter 35: Loose Ends (Patreon)

Viserra

First Moon, 98 AC

Legions of fanatics as numerous as the stars, waved silver-green banners and chanted for victory as they marched onwards, never ceasing. The silver-green banners faded into embers. The pale fortress burned, its splendor igniting into flame. Its silver towers melted into a sea of rising tides. The dragons roared in the sky, and the earth trembled before their wake.

Viserra rubbed her forehead, her thoughts dwelling on a cryptic dream she’d had that morning. It was vague and difficult to remember, vanishing from her even as she awoke disturbed. But one image had seared itself into her mind. The pale fortress burned.

Her family had a history of strange and prophetic dreams but somehow Viserra that doubted she was a dreamer like Daenys was. Daenys had not had only one dream about one event but many and had predicted many occurrences. She was considered a true seer for a reason. When she had dreamed of the Doom of Valyria, the visions had plagued her near every night until her father had acquiesced to her pleas to leave, or so their family histories went.

Viserra couldn’t be sure her single scattered nightmare was really any vision at all. More likely it was just her troubled mind playing on her fears. She shook herself. She had more important things to worry about than a strange and meaningless dream today.

As she walked to her meeting with Corlys in his solar, Viserra reflected on their time in the city. It was coming to eight years since they had conquered Tyrosh. Years of struggle and suffering, of a fall from grace that would be told in the tales. Yet that was only the beginning. Joy and laughter had come in time, and so had a rise to a new wealth and prosperity that was only just beginning to truly form.

Tyrosh was thriving. Work had progressed well on rebuilding the city in a new architectural style that was quite reminiscent of Spicetown, yet also paid homage to Tyrosh’s local motifs. Its hinterlands were further along in their development and the work continued to make Tyrosh prosper. The University of Tyrosh’s first buildings had been completed, and work was underway to expand it as it continued to drive innovation forward.

More and more people had come to Tyrosh from Driftmark and Massey’s Hook, even from Claw Isle and Gulltown as well. Myr as well was practically faded at this point, as the city had been left so destabilized by its civil war that Tyrosh, Volantis, and Pentos had lured away all its artisans, artists, and scholars. Tyroshi glass was now said to be finest in the market, building on the work Driftmark had once made in the field, and they could now reliably produce their own far eyes and small eyes without needing to import any lens at all.

Tyrosh traded glass, silk, dyes, tea, and a whole host of other goods to ships passing along its coastal waters, reaping enormous profits for her house, which had made major progress in recouping the investment of a vast portion of their fortune in the city.

The Velaryons had truly made Tyrosh and the Black Fortress their own now. When they had destroyed the old elites and the Towers and the Dyes, they had come into possession of every building within the Black Fortress, which had functioned similarly to the Black Walls in Volantis. At their command, the entire fortress had been redesigned and rebuilt to serve as a central governance hub in a secure fortification.

Manses had become ministries and palaces had been made institutions. The Velaryon Bank had been headquartered within the mansion once owned by one Lysos Eranyr and taken possession and oversight of all the Tyroshi banks. Headquarters or branches of many of Driftmark’s institutions and companies had come to be based within the fortress as well, though the university and a branch of the bank remained outside the black walls for the smallfolk to access easily.

Inside a labyrinth of beautiful gardens, statues, pathways and institutional buildings, thousands of men and women worked hard in long hours seeking the restoration and uplifting of House Velaryon’s pride and dignity. And at the center of it all, stood the Archon’s Palace, an ostentatious and enormous manse with high ceilings and buttressed pillars and exquisite frescoes and windows, decorated to the heights of luxury. A show of wealth and power.

The Black Fortress lived up to its name as well. Barracks and drill fields all had a place within the Fortress, and all manner of weapons, fortification, and crenellations and barbicans had their place along its walls and gatehouses. Viserra and her house would take no risk with their safety after assassinations and armed rebellions.

As part of that effort, House Velaryon had reforged and reorganized its military in the years they had been in Tyrosh. The push for a formal standing army and a unified and clearly outlined chain of command had come over the years in Tyrosh when the Velaryons had realized that there had been difficulties in coordinating their forces from various different units. No longer would Driftmark Marines serve with household guards on land in a disjointed mess of units and officers, instead those marines more attuned to war on land were reassigned and joined by an eager host of new recruits from the Stars, Velaryon knights and guards, and townspeople of the urbanized Tyroshi city to form a new professional army.

They drew men and taxes from separate territories technically in differing sovereignties and so an informal name for their domain had been coined, known as the Velaryon State. Named for the ruling house of both Tyrosh and Driftmark, to avoid any jurisdiction problems considering the latter’s technical vassalage to the Iron Throne. This legal fiction lent its name to the Velaryon’s military branches as well which similarly operated in both regions. Rather than being the Tyroshi or Driftmark Army and Navy, they were named for the common ruling house, none other than House Velaryon.

A formal Velaryon Army had been established, incorporating all their guards, men at arms, retinues, household knights and castle garrisons both here and on Driftmark. The Tide Guard, the town watches of Spicetown, Tyrosh, and Hull, and their vassal levies from the Hook, were officially classified as auxiliary forces operating parallel to this army and would be included in the chain of command under certain circumstances.

This Velaryon Army was a professional and elite force, light infantry equipped with a minimum of chainmail and leather brigandines with more elite heavy units even given full plate armor, as the Velaryons’ smiths worked to advance their metallurgy with their scholars in the universities.

A moderate force for now, but one that was growing larger and becoming more elite. Unlike feudal Westeros, Tyrosh and its style of governance operated similarly to old Valyria which had maintained standing armies. Implementing that old system again was not that hard to arrange and finance with the Velaryons’ near monopoly on the city’s productive and profitable industries, estates, and businesses.

At her husband’s directive, the Velaryon heavy infantry drilled in a pike, square, and shot formations, with their weapons of choice being mostly crossbows, poleaxes, pikes, halberds, maces and axes, as well as the traditional sword as a secondary weapon. Furthermore, the old decree on Driftmark and Massey’s Hook that all villagers train with the longbow weekly, had given their Army and Navy both a large recruiting pool of trained archers.

It was early days yet for their army, and the expense was immense, but the wealth of Tyrosh allowed them to cover it reasonably well. Of course, one could hardly consider the Velaryon Army and not mention the by far more prestigious and senior service. The Velaryon Navy.

Though it had not always existed in its current organization, the Velaryon Navy or Fleet, had existed as long as House Velaryon had held Driftmark. By now it had successfully incorporated all the Tyroshi ships and there were plans underway to build a new Arsenal in Tyrosh. The Driftmark Marines, now called simply Velaryon Marines as part of the new rebranding, were reorganized as a force purely designed to fight on the ships in ship to ship combat, or secure islands and beaches in amphibious landings, rather than being a multi-purpose land and sea army like they had effectively functioned as until recently before the Velaryon Army’s official formation.

Per the traditions began by Corlys, the Velaryon Navy prided itself on being the finest and most innovative fleet on the sea. They pioneered professionalism and new and innovatively efficient methods of record keeping and organization and communication such as naval flag signaling and coded torches.

They also benefited greatly from the advance of technology, as research was almost complete that could see the Navy’s ships outfitted with wildfire flamethrowers and spitfires once the Alchemists stabilized the substance into one relatively safe to transport. Corlys was quite excited for that, men and their toys. Viserra didn’t see the point, seeing as they had Dreamfyre, but to each their own. She only knew so much about all this because Corlys had almost giddily explained it all to her in great detail, hoping she’d be interested. It was fascinating she supposed.

Unlike their Army which couldn’t really pay for themselves beyond being put to work on their infrastructure projects, the Navy very much could. The Velaryon Navy had always had an intimate relationship with their Merchant Marine. Now, with House Velaryon on the rise again, their merchants were once proud and unafraid to fly their banners. The old system had been restored.

The Velaryon Merchant Marine referred to all ships owned by merchants and captains based in Velaryon territory, which now extended to include Tyrosh. They took oaths of allegiance to House Velaryon and were entitled to its protection, showing they had it with a single Velaryon banner that would fly above their normal standards on their ships. Often the Velaryon Navy would accompany groups of merchant ships in armed convoys, along predetermined trade routes. House Velaryon itself owned many solely merchant ships and often times their warships also carried trade cargo and stock to help pay off the expenses of maintaining a standing navy.

Much to the Navy and merchants’ delight and as explained by her once again, all too excited husband, new ship types and classes were being designed and prepared for construction as well. Galleons, fluyts, and xebecs Corlys had called them. Viserra would admit that ship types and their differing functions and capabilities were mostly beyond her, embarrassing for the Lady of the Tides she knew. Still what had been related to her on the potential of these ship classes was very promising and anything that benefited her house and made it stronger had her approval.

By now, they had solidified absolute power in the city, and their influence only continued to grow. More and more immigrants came from their lands in Westeros, from Driftmark and the Hook, increasing the population of loyalists. Furthermore, even the freeborn locals begrudgingly enjoyed the prosperity they had brought to the city, and of course many of the freed slaves were converting to the Faith of the Seven, which was now the majority religion in the city of Tyrosh itself, and a plurality in the hinterlands.

The Star faction might have been formally dissolved and its militants assimilated into the Velaryon Army and Navy, but its ideology had not died. The Faith of the Seven in Tyrosh was quite different from that of mainland Westeros. Though they were still officially under the aegis of the High Septon and Most Devout, who were now based in the new Great Sept of Jaehaerys atop Visenya’s Hill in King’s Landing, in practice the Tyroshi Faith operated completely independently without oversight from the Great Sept, much like House Velaryon did with the Iron Throne.

The Tyroshi Faith had no special privileges like it did in Westeros. The Faith Militant was abolished and after the Stars had proven radical, religious were not allowed to bear arms at all unless as part of the Velaryon forces. The clergy and religious would be tried in state courts and the septs would pay taxes, though often these would go into a government fund designated for their protection and maintenance.

Viserra’s title of Zaldilaros was still in common use and was formalized. She was still seen as the Breaker of Chains, the Champion of the Seven, and had an almost messianic role. Her husband Corlys had in his role as Archon, taken the title of ‘Defender of the Faith’, and they were together the ceremonial heads of the Tyroshi Faith of the Seven. The understanding was that their son and heir Jacaerys would unite both titles in his person when he inherited.

In practical terms, the Faith was run on a day to day basis by a Synod, made up of the leading septons and septas in the city, and chaired by an Archsepton of Tyrosh. Of course, Viserra and her husband had seats on the Synod as well at a place of honor, though they did not attend every meeting.

Plans were also in the making for a great sept to be built, designed in imitation of the Sept of the Waves in Driftmark to be built to seat the Archsepton and the Synod. Various names had been suggested, such as the Tide Sept, or Ocean Sept. Some had even considered breaking away from the sea motif and naming it the Sept of Freedom, or Liberty, or even for Viserra herself as Zaldilaros. They were even considering moving the painting ‘The Crowning of Hugor’ to Tyrosh, as they were quite certain it would find many who would appreciate its beauty and religious significance here.

Doctrinally, the Tyroshi Faith was quite different from its Westerosi counterpart as well. There was a greater emphasis on the sin of slavery and their counterpart of the Doctrine of Exceptionalism went even beyond what her father had originally forced the Starry Sept back in Oldtown to accept. Known as the Zaldilaros Creed, which outlined the beliefs of the Tyroshi believers, in the eyes of the Tyroshi Faith of the Seven and its adherents, Viserra and her family were the chosen representatives of God on earth, entrusted by the Seven to free Tyrosh from the shackles of slavery and given divine right to rule it. Of course this doctrine also included the normal exceptions to the sin of incest and arguably polygamy her family had back in Westeros, and elevated them into an especial, almost messianic position.

Corlys was deeply uncomfortable with all of the implications, but the faith of the believers had been so strong this was the least they could have them agree to. Many seemed to believe an even more extreme version, that Viserra was the avatar and incarnation of the Mother, Maiden, and Crone all in one, and she would lead a glorious revolution to purge slavery from all of Essos. That was honestly flattering and it would not be a bad cause but they didn’t have the time or will to pursue it in any way.

House Velaryon was not as altruistic as their followers often seemed to believe. They cared for the common folk of course, but they could not solve all the world’s problems, nor did they want to. Their primary concerns were for the health, wealth, and wellbeing of their house and people, and no one else.

Of course, the Starry Sept and later the Great Sept had protested all of this most bitterly. They had been greatly angered by the insubordination and supposed heresy of the Tyroshi Faith and after they had refused all orders to adjust their doctrine back to the standard and accept the oversight of a septon from the Most Devout, they had threatened to excommunicate Viserra and her entire family and all their followers.

It had been a major issue a few years back but it had ultimately ended in her brother Aemon overruling the High Septon and Most Devout, and restoring an uneasy limbo for Tyrosh and even Driftmark’s status in the greater Faith of the Seven. Viserra had thanked her brother profusely in a letter. Her father might remain stubborn but Viserra had built a rapport with her mother and eldest three siblings in the past few years, and she was tentatively optimistic that a peaceful resolution to this feud in their family was still possible. A religious schism on top of the existing political one, would be nearly impossible to heal.

The politics beyond Tyrosh were quite complex. The years since the Stepstones Crisis had seen a great upturn in their fortunes. In that crisis they had proven to the entire world that House Targaryen’s threats and sanctions against them, were effectively toothless. Despite her own recklessness, even Corlys had admitted that it had gone perfectly for them though Viserra continued to pray that her youngest child Daeron would never suffer any consequences as a result of her riding her dragon while pregnant with him. They had been exceedingly lucky.

As a direct result of the Crisis, and the increasing wealth of Tyrosh, House Velaryon’s negotiating power had grown greatly. Trade deals and agreements had been made with Volantis, Pentos, Braavos, Norvos, Qohor, Essaria, Sarnor, and Ibben. In Westeros, Houses Grafton, Celtigar, and Tarth had firmly rejoined their side and they were spreading their influence across the kingdom once again. Houses such as Penrose, Whitehead, Estermont, Peake, Tyrell, or the various houses of Cape Wrath had proven receptive.

Many of them had once dealt with the Velaryons, though they had never been truly close allies. All had abandoned them in their fall, but they were too pragmatic to hold onto too much of a grudge, mostly. Corlys had told her he fully intended to squeeze the Tyrells brutally for their role in justifying and preparing her father’s initial sanctions and they would have no choice but to take it, desperate for any succor from the rise of the Hightowers and Redwynes.

Throughout it all, her father’s sanctions were mostly ignored. They had never been removed despite her siblings’ attempts to convince her stubborn father, not that it had ultimately stopped their subtle loosening under Aemon’s subtle directive, first as Master of Coin and now as Hand of the King with the death of Septon Barth the previous month. Perhaps her father still refused to back down publicly out of his foolish pride but was privately pragmatic enough to concede to Aemon’s wishes?

Things in Westeros were rather messy right now. Even their attempts to restore and expand their influence there had been complicated. One of the main regions they had focused their efforts on had been the Stormlands, due to their proximity to Tyrosh and the Stepstones. However, the death of her uncle Boremund and cousin Borros four years ago in a storm off the coast of Tarth had left the Stormlands in the hands of her brother’s wife Jocelyn.

Much like her brother Boremund had, Jocelyn resented their influence amongst her family’s vassals. That dislike had only worsened after her brother had died attempting to change that and Jocelyn had seen that influence first hand. No ruler wanted their vassals too close to an outsider. It had placed tensions on their rapport with Aemon, he was unwilling to anger his wife too much, and not even he wanted to see them accrue so much influence in the Stormlands. They’d had no choice but to moderate their activities in the region.

In their place, the Targaryens and the last Baratheon had doubled down on strengthening their influence in the region. Rhaenys was often in Storm’s End helping her mother rule, or touring the region with Viserys and their children; their son Aegon, who was of age with Viserra’s own youngest Daeron, and their daughter Rhaenyra, who had been born only last year in 97 AC. The Stormlanders enjoyed the royal attention and favor, and many had become avid supporters of Rhaenys and her family.

Viserys and Rhaenys had not been the only members of her family that had been paired up. Alyssa had gushed to her in her letters about Daemon marrying their younger sister Gael last year. They had twin daughters now, only a few months younger than Rhaenyra. Baela and Rhaena. She had heard that they were identical just as her eldest sons were.

Even Saera’s son had been betrothed, to Daella’s daughter of all people. Viserra had been in shock when she had heard of that. She had never even considered such a betrothal possible given who their mothers were, but it had already been finalized and the two would be marrying in a few years, when her nephew Aegor was fifteen and her niece Aemma nineteen. The union of Maidenpool and the Eyrie was a radical and unexpected move that almost no one had predicted. It set the stage for a more dynamic game in the Vale and northern Crownlands.

Her friend Laena had written to her of her worries over such a match already. Both House Celtigar and House Grafton were deeply concerned by the movements of the Arryns and Mootons, and Viserra concurred. They had traded with Maidenpool and dealt with Saera in secret, but it was clear that she’d had her own agenda all this time. House Mooton had profited fabulously from that illicit trade and they remained high in the Iron Throne’s favor, even having secured a betrothal that would have the future Lord of Maidenpool as consort to the Lady of the Vale. Their gamble had paid off. Viserra wasn’t sure how she felt about that at all.

It was clear however, that the time was fast approaching for House Velaryon to return to Driftmark. They had spent almost eight years in Tyrosh and it was time well spent with the results clearly showing. Their work was done, things were going exceedingly well in Tyrosh, and the city could easily continue to develop under the stewardship of Aurane or Victor, without needing their direct oversight. Corlys had calculated that if Tyrosh’s rate of growth remained steady, they might even surpass the wealth they had had before they had conquered it, within the next ten years.

It came at a cost however. Driftmark had continued to decline as its people and businesses moved from the island and its vassal lands to better opportunities and greater independence from the tyranny of ‘King Jae’ in Tyrosh. It felt bittersweet in a way. Everything that had made Spicetown and Driftmark special was slowly been given to Tyrosh now. They were even upgrading bathrooms and plumbing to match Driftmark’s standards. The Archon’s Palace in particular would have all the amenities of High Tide, which was something Viserra certainly approved of, but once she had felt proud that only High Tide had that.

They had spent eight years in Tyrosh, Viserra and her husband agreed that they would return to Driftmark eventually. Their children only knew Tyrosh, it was time to take them home, and repay the island and her people for their loyalty and sacrifices. Viserra wanted to restore Driftmark to its former glory, and that was something they could only see to properly if they were there.

She wanted to show her children High Tide and Spicetown, even diminished as they were. Take them walking on the white sands and see the crystal clear waters. Her children could meet some of their cousins as well, the Tarths, the Graftons, the Celtigars, amongst their closest allies and kin, and even the Targaryens. Their dispute with her father might remain, but returning to Driftmark would give options to meet with her mother and siblings and begin laying the pathway to restoring their status in Westeros. They had been away for too long. It would soon be time that they re-entered the fray in Westeros.

Not yet though. As much as Viserra hated Tyrosh deep down, the city that had taken her friend, her brother from her, and caused her so much hurt, there were a few last things that needed to be settled first before they could leave.

She opened the door to the solar that she shared with Corlys to work. Her husband was scanning through a letter when she arrived. She noticed the seal on it. A running direwolf.

“What does Lord Ellard Stark have to say?” She asked her husband with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s relating the tragic death of Lord Theomore. His grandson Lord Desmond has proven more… receptive to the desires of Winterfell.”

Viserra chuckled as she took her seat. “That’s wise of him.”

Once they had successfully stabilized Tyrosh, Corlys had reached out to the Starks to discuss the potential avenues they had to work together, as part of their efforts to diversify their trade routes to the Shivering Sea. There was no love lost for her father in the North. The smallfolk might respect her father and adore her mother for ending the First Night, but the nobles had greatly resented that law and the forced donation of the New Gift to the Night’s Watch.

In such an environment, the Velaryons had found an eager partner and ally. With secret discussions over the years, the Starks and several of their vassals had begun to work with the Velaryons. With White Harbor too far in her father’s orbit under the late Theomore Manderly, they had begun focusing elsewhere.

The North was rich in resources, but they lacked the expertise or funds to extract them. That was where the Velaryons had come in. They had partnered closely with many northern houses. In a joint venture, new ports had already been and were being built along the North’s eastern coast, primarily at Ramsgate, the Weeping Water, Last River, and Karhold, greatly benefitting Houses Hornwood, Bolton, Umber, and Karstark, and their overlord House Stark, which had positioned itself carefully to not be threatened by these developments.

Velaryon expertise helped build sawmills and mines and expand farms and fields. Tyrosh exported agricultural tools, methods, and innovations that had seen the North’s population begin to boom. They had found eager learners and buyers for four-field crop rotation, Tyroshi glass for glasshouses, and glass jar canning for food preservation in the North, amongst many other products that they sold to them, including the occasional silk or some other luxury.

In return, House Velaryon had become the middleman between the North and all their external trade partners, transporting and selling their exports to Braavos and other buyers in Essos, and selling the North their expertise, investment, and the luxury goods and technologies of Tyrosh and the rest of Essos. Velaryon ships were allowed to use the Northern ports they had helped build as basing grounds for their activities in the Shivering Sea, running the trade routes and also fishing and whaling in the Shivering Sea.

These ports had been built alongside the various rivers on the west coast and from those rivers, a great tide of goods flowed downstream. Furs from trappings, wool from sheep, ores and minerals from the mountains, ironwood and other timbers and lumbers from the various forests, and ice from Long Lake and other bodies of water.

The ice trade had also proven quite lucrative. With hay and sawdust to insulate it, the ice could preserve and transported in large blocks over great distances. It had proven to be extremely profitable when sold to many of the Essosi who lived in hotter climates, cooling the drinks of many wealthy magisters and nobles. The ice could also be used to cool milk, cream, and other perishables to prevent spoilage. It had led to her husband making a new dessert that her children absolutely adored, ice cream. Corlys had even purchased maple tree sap from the Northmen and made a sweet syrup from it to go with the ice cream.

All of this trade had been enormously and mutually beneficial for House Velaryon and the North. With the new Lord Desmond Manderly seeming to no longer obey her father as much as his grandfather had, it would be a ripe time to expand their operations even more. Either Lord Desmond had finally bowed to Winterfell’s wishes, or he had realized that his grandfather’s stubborn loyalty to the Iron Throne had seen his house lose out on a lot of wealth and trade to their rivals. Whatever the case, it was good news for their house.

Though rival ports had been built to the North, White Harbor remained the premier port in the North, commanding its richest and most fertile lands and the mouth of its longest river. It was closest to the trade routes of the world, and the White Knife could soon be opened to Velaryon trade, allowing them to access the resources of and export their goods to more of the North, including a direct route to Winterfell.

“Has Lord Ellard agreed to the betrothal?” Viserra asked her husband.

Of course, the North wasn’t simply a place to make money and allies easily. They had to play the game as well. The houses on the North’s western coast, Dustin, Tallhart, Ryswell, Glover, and Mormont, were trading extensively with the Western Bloc. Lannister, Redwyne, and Hightower were all trading with them and investing in them similarly to how the Velaryons were in the east. Their rivals had seen their success in the North’s eastern coasts and had been unwilling to let the whole North fall into their sphere without a fight.

Viserra had to respect Ellard Stark’s cunning. He had intentionally allowed this to happen so that his entire kingdom could prosper from the rivalries of them southerners. Crafty. Of course, that hadn’t stopped both them and the Western bloc from trying to go for the jugular. They’d both offered a betrothal for Ellard’s grandson Rickon, the son of his eldest son Benjen, and the future Lord of Winterfell after his father and grandfather. Viserra and her husband had offered their niece Vaella, and Lord Lannister had offered his cousin.

She was wondering what Ellard would choose. He could reject them both in favor of a local match, though those local houses were also subject to their competing influences, or he could accept either of them and potentially break his neutrality. Personally she was expecting Ellard to choose a local match and only indirectly align his interests with either the Velaryons and Western bloc without alienating either party. It would be what she would do.

To her surprise however, Corlys nodded. “He has. Vaella will wed Rickon in either 100 or 101 AC.”

“That’s wonderful news… but a bit surprising. He risks compromising his relations with the Lannisters does he not? That could affect the western coasts and his vassals there, who would surely complain and cause him issues,” Viserra said.

“Perhaps he feels confident he can appease them. Either way, our niece will be the Lady of a Great House, consort to a lord who rules a third of the Iron Throne’s realm. This is a great victory for our house.”

“Why do you think Ellard chose us? He has to be expecting something, something that hasn’t been mentioned.”

“What do we have that the Western bloc doesn’t? It’s dragons. Your parents forced Ellard’s father to give up massive amounts of land under pain of dragonfire. By allying with us however, another dragonriding house that are at odds with the Targaryens…”

“The Starks have secured their protection from any more draconic dictates,” she concluded.

“That’s right.”

“And you’re fine with this?”

“I see nothing wrong with it. It’s all implicit. All vague. We aren’t actually obliged to defend them if we don’t wish to, nor is it likely the Targaryens would press anything on the Starks at this point. They have more important things to worry about.”

Viserra nodded at his reasoning. “We’ll be able to get back in time for the wedding you think?”

“Most likely. It’s in what, two, three years? We should be finished by then. We can take the kids back to Driftmark and take a trip up north with Vaella for her wedding.”

She sighed. “One last task to settle before then though, and such a long one too.”

Corlys placed his hand on her shoulder. “But no less necessary. The slavers are long overdue their comeuppance.”

Viserra did not disagree. It was past time that Slaver’s Bay was repaid with fire and blood for their cowardly attack on Velos all those years ago. House Velaryon could not let that slight go unanswered any longer. Still…

“I know. I just dislike the idea of leaving our children for so long. It will be a year at least that we are parted from them.”

Corlys’s expression was sympathetic. “I understand, but remember. It is for their sake that we are doing this. It is for them that we remind the world that House Velaryon will not let attacks on it go unanswered. The trade routes we reopen will see our house flourish even more, and it can only benefit them.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation then. Ser Jaremy who was standing guard outside the door announced who it was. At their command, the door swung open. A beautiful young woman walked in, lithe and lissome, with skin as pale as milk. She wore a hooded black velvet robe lined with ocean-blue silk and silver trims. A silver badge in the shape of a conch seashell was proudly clipped to her left breast. Viserra didn’t think she’d ever met her before, but her face was strangely familiar.

The woman bowed to them respectfully. “Your Excellency, Princess. I am pleased to give my report on the results of my team’s mission in Slaver’s Bay.”

Corlys was thrilled. “Ah, yes of course. We were expecting you a little later, but the White Worm always goes above and beyond.”

“You flatter me Excellency,” the woman said, though there was a pleased smile on her face.

“Hardly flattery to praise the work of an incredible agent. Viserra, are you familiar with Lady Mysaria? She is one of the rising stars in our Conches.”

“Only by reputation. I’m pleased to meet you Mysaria. Have we perhaps met before? You look rather familiar,” Viserra said, still trying to place her face.

“I’m honored that you remember me Princess. We met briefly many years ago, it was before you married Lord Corlys. I was an orphan in Breezhome Orphanage,” she explained.

“You were the little Lyseni girl.” Viserra remembered now. It felt like a lifetime ago now. A different life, a different Viserra.

“You’ve done very well for yourself since then.” She noted.

“I have you to thank for that my princess. You and House Velaryon. Every member of that orphanage ends up serving House Velaryon in one way or another. It’s a stable job, and a good cause.”

“Ser Jaremy at the door is also another Breezehomer. He was before your time there,” Corlys interjected proudly.

Mysaria smiled. “It’s good to know that I have another brother here.”

“Please, have a seat Lady Mysaria. I am eager to hear your report,” her husband said welcomingly.

The smile faded slightly off her face as her professionalism reemerged. “Of course Excellency.”

As Mysaria gave her report to Corlys about the current state of Velos and Slaver’s Bay, Viserra reflected on how the organization she belonged to had even come to exist. It had been decided years ago that the death of Rhaekar and the surprise attack on Velos were unacceptable intelligence failures for House Velaryon. They could no longer tolerate them, for to be blindsided again could mean disaster, or death.

Thus, the complicated and informal web of informants and spies that House Velaryon maintained like every other noble house worth their salt, had been formally unified into a specialised agency known only as the Conches. A secret organization that officially did not exist to anyone but the highest ranks of House Velaryon; they were named for the seashell in which one could hear the whispers of the sea.

The Conches’ role was exactly that. They were the Velaryons’ eyes and ears. They personally infiltrated and spied on their targets, and also operated a web of informants and contacts who by protocol, would never know the information they were relaying was passed to House Velaryon. The Conches were dispatched throughout the world to regions and persons of interest to House Velaryon and they reported back their findings to their masters unfailingly, constantly whispering to them what secrets they had uncovered in the sea of knowledge, just like the seashells that echoed the sounds of the sea.

The Iron Throne foolishly entrusted its intelligence operations to a third party noble who often had an agenda of his own. Furthermore, these networks were informal and not fixed, they had to be rebuilt every time a new Master of Whisperers was appointed. The Conches had no such failings.

They were perhaps the first corps of their kind in the world, if one did not count the various assassin guilds whose sole purpose was as murderers for hire. The Conches were a formal organization with a standardized chain of command, training, and methodology. They had a cause they believed in, and each of them had been recruited not just for their skills but for their unflinching loyalty to House Velaryon. Loyalty that did not expire when their chief spymaster died.

Quick and efficient, Lady Mysaria had finished her report within a few minutes and left the room, leaving Viserra alone with her husband.

“It’s time then,” she said.

“It is.”

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Second Moon, 98 AC

They had delayed for a month. Ostensibly for the sake of finalizing their preparations, but House Velaryon had been preparing this campaign for years. Corlys and Viserra both knew they had delayed because they had not wished to miss their daughter Laena’s sixth nameday. They’d have to miss Daeron’s fourth in the tenth moon of that year already, and that hurt Viserra deeply. Her little boy would be turning four years old and she wouldn’t be here.

There was no more delaying. The fleet was prepared, its armament full, and its provisions stocked with glass jar canned foodstuffs and essence of lime and orange to prevent scurvy. The Velaryon Fleet was ready for war, its masters had to be as well.

In the sky above, Viserra could see Dreamfyre circling impatiently. She was all ready to go. Dragons it seemed had much less difficulties leaving their children. All of Dreamfyre’s hatchlings were back at the Fortress and had not cared to see her off; Tessarion, Morghul, Shrykos, and the youngest Terrax, who had hatched for her youngest son in his cradle like all his siblings’ dragons had. A young blue-green dragoness with ocean-blue wings and scales and a crest, claws, and belly scales as sea green as the Velaryon banner; Corlys had joked that Daeron’s dragon could join the Tide Guard with those colors many times before.

Corlys, and Aurane and her were at the piers of the dock ready to leave. Alys, Victor, and the children had come to see them off. As Aurane bid farewell to his wife and his four sons, Malentine, Rhaekar, Rhogar, and Monford, Viserra had her own brood clinging to her and Corlys.

“Do you really have to go Muna?” Daeron asked sweetly and Viserra felt her heart squeeze at the sadness in his voice.

“Yes darling, I do,” she knelt down and hugged him. “I tell you what. I’ll bring you back a nice toy when I return, a souvenir from Meereen. How’s that?”

“A toy would be nice,” Daeron agreed, noticeably cheering up.

Viserra smiled sadly, it hadn’t really set in for Daeron yet just how long they would be gone. She hoped he didn’t resent them when they returned. Beside her, Corlys had been twirling Laena around in his arms for a few minutes and finally let her down, giddy and laughing.

“I won’t be able to do that for a while my little pearl, so I had to get my fill of it now. You understand right?”

Laena giggled. “Of course Daddy! Let’s go again!”

Corlys chuckled. “I think that’s quite enough. I’ll do it as much as you want when I get back, don’t worry.”

“Jace, Luke,” Viserra called out to her eldest sons. Seven were they already eight? It felt like yesterday that they’d been babes in her arms. They were growing so fast.

“Yes Mother,” they chorused together in the twinspeak they liked to do.

“Look after your younger siblings. While we’re gone, Aunt Alys and Uncle Victor have full authority over you. You are not to ride your dragons without my supervision, understood? Wait until my return, and if I found out you did, you will be in for it.”

Her eldest boys nodded and she softened. The stuffy responsibilities were out of the way. “Look after yourselves alright? I’ll miss you, all of you. We both will. We’ll bring you back some souvenirs from Slaver’s Bay in a year or so, and it will be like we were never gone.”

They nodded again and at that Viserra took them both into her arms and hugged them dearly, eventually relinquishing them to Corlys who hugged them in turn.

“Nuncle,” Corlys called out to his uncle standing some ways away. Victor stepped forward. “I’m entrusting you with Tyrosh. The stewardship of the city is yours with Aurane and I gone. Alys has the household and the children, but you will be our regent and the commander of our forces. I’m placing everything in your hands uncle.”

“You can count on me Corlys,” Victor said in a deep raspy voice. He was well over sixty years old, but still hale and strong. An old man, but by no means feeble. He walked up closer to her husband and clasped his arm around his shoulder. “Send those slavers to the seven hells for me. For Lucerys.”

Corlys nodded grimly. “I will.”

Viserra looked on a little sadly. Corlys’ cousin Lucerys had been Victor’s son, and he had been presumed dead years ago when Velos had fallen to the slavers. It was his death, and the deaths of many more that they were sailing to avenge now.

As she boarded the Sea Snake, Viserra turned back and saw her children waving her off. She waved back at them and only when they were no longer in sight, did she allow a few gentle tears to fall from her eyes. This parting was for their sake, Viserra reminded herself. For the sake of their house, to avenge Lucerys and so many more. It didn’t make the separation hurt any less, but the pain was far more bearable.

Corlys held her as their fleet sailed away from Tyrosh. Eventually she broke from his embraced and stopped looking at the horizon where Tyrosh had long disappeared. She turned and faced the front of the ship, looking at the sea ahead as they tacked with the wind.

Onward then, to Velos, and war.

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Author’s Note: Hope you guys liked this chapter. It was very exposition heavy but I felt that was necessary after all the character drama of the previous few chapters. It’s time we get back to the worldbuilding and exposition lorecrafting. Any suggestions for a better chapter name? I ultimately chose 'Loose Ends' because this chapter is basically tying up the loose ends of the Tyrosh Arc. I am open to a better one if you guys can suggest one though.