Chapter 34: The Dragon's Wake: A World Awakened and a Throne's Demands
The Phoenix Armada's return to Dragon's Aerie was a triumph unlike any the fledgling island kingdom had yet witnessed. The holds of the Balerion, Meraxes, Vhagar, and their escorting cogs were laden not just with the plundered gold, silver, and gems of Magister Illyrio Mopatis's vast fortune, but with something far more potent: the undeniable aura of victory, the scent of dragonfire, and the chilling reputation of a power that had dared to strike at the heart of a major Free City and emerge unscathed. Aegis erupted in a mixture of exultation, awe, and a new, sharper understanding of the terrible might their Lord Viserys commanded. He had promised them a future, and he had delivered its first, bloody, and astonishingly lucrative, installment.
But Viserys knew this was no endpoint; it was a volatile new beginning. The Dragon's Wake, the ripples spreading out from their audacious assault on Pentos, was already beginning to reshape the political landscape of Essos and send tremors of disbelief and fear across the Narrow Sea to war-torn Westeros. The world had been awakened to the return of dragons, and the demands of the Iron Throne, once a distant ambition, now pressed upon him with an immediacy that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Kipp, his network of informants now working overtime from his Tyroshi base and through Shadowfoot's Braavosi Nest, began to relay the initial reactions. Panic was the first wave. In Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, merchant princes fortified their manses, harbor masters doubled their watch, and prayers were offered in every temple to ward off the "Southern Scourge." Volantis, already smarting from the Vaelaros fleet disaster and now hearing exaggerated tales of Pentos's ordeal (some rumors spoke of the entire city being razed by dragonfire, others of Illyrio being devoured alive by winged demons), went into a defensive frenzy. Their Triarchs reportedly argued endlessly, some demanding an immediate punitive expedition to find and eradicate this new dragonlord, others counseling caution, fearing to provoke a power that could command such devastation. The prevailing sentiment, however, was fear, a primal terror that Viserys intended to cultivate and exploit.
Braavos, ever pragmatic, reacted with a mixture of alarm and intense curiosity. The Sealord convened an emergency session of the Magisters. The Iron Bank, Viserys knew, would be meticulously reassessing every calculation regarding Essosi stability and the Phoenix Trading & Exploration Company. Keyholder Denyo Karys, who had approved their earlier loan, sent a discreet, non-committal inquiry to Ledger (who now managed the Phoenix Company's Braavosi finances remotely from Aegis via coded dispatch, with a trusted local factor as his public face), expressing the Bank's "profound interest in recent significant shifts in Essosi trade dynamics" and its "continued confidence in the Phoenix Company's prudent management of its diverse assets." It was a veiled message: We know something momentous has happened. We are watching. Do not become a liability. Viserys instructed Ledger to respond with utmost politeness, reaffirming the Company's commitment to peaceful trade and its complete detachment from any "unfortunate piratical activities" in other regions, while subtly hinting at new, immensely profitable (and entirely legitimate) trade opportunities emerging from their "southern agricultural ventures" (the ever-useful euphemism for Dragon's Aerie).
The news reaching Westeros was, by necessity, more fragmented and distorted, carried by terrified merchant sailors and amplified by rumor. But the core elements – dragons, a devastating attack on a major Essosi city, a powerful new Targaryen claimant emerging from the east – were enough to send shockwaves through the warring factions.
Tywin Lannister, a man who dealt in cold, hard realities, would undoubtedly dismiss the more fantastical elements initially, but the reports of a well-funded, militarily capable Targaryen force operating with impunity in Essos would be a grave concern, another dangerous variable in his already complex Westerosi calculations. Cersei would likely dismiss it with contempt, then secretly tremble. Joffrey would demand the dragons' heads on spikes.
Stannis Baratheon, grimly holding Dragonstone (the original), would see it as yet another challenge to his rightful claim, another heretical manifestation of fire magic to be countered, though Melisandre, his Red Priestess, might interpret the return of dragons as a sign of Azor Ahai's imminent arrival, perhaps even seeking to divine if Viserys was a part of that prophecy.
Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, caught in his desperate struggle in the Riverlands, would have little time to contemplate Essosi dragons, but his more astute advisors, like Brynden Tully, might recognize the long-term implications.
The Greyjoys, ever opportunistic, might even see a powerful new Targaryen as a potential, if temporary, ally against the Iron Throne.
But it was the reaction of Lord Varys, the Spider, that concerned Viserys the most. With Illyrio Mopatis, his long-time collaborator and paymaster, now eliminated, and their carefully groomed "Aegon Targaryen" pretender a casualty of Viserys's ruthless efficiency, Varys's intricate, decades-long plans for a Targaryen restoration (one he could control) were in tatters. The Spider, Viserys knew, was a master of adaptation, of survival. He would not simply fade away. He would reassess, recalibrate, and undoubtedly, try to make contact, either to offer his services, to gauge Viserys's intentions, or to begin weaving new webs to ensnare this unexpected, far more formidable, Targaryen claimant. Viserys instructed Kipp and Shadowfoot to be exceptionally vigilant for any signs of Varys's "little birds" attempting to infiltrate their networks or approach their operatives.
Back on Dragon's Aerie, the spoils of Pentos were being meticulously processed. Ledger and his team of factors worked day and night, cataloging the immense wealth, integrating Illyrio's captured financial ledgers into their own systems, and identifying new assets – hidden properties, outstanding debts owed to Illyrio by influential Essosi figures, secret trade routes – that could now be claimed or exploited by the Phoenix Company. Archivist and his scribes pored over Illyrio's private correspondence, his coded messages, his intelligence reports, piecing together a far more complete picture of the intricate power games being played across Essos and within Westeros itself. They uncovered details of Varys's spy network in King's Landing, Illyrio's connections to certain Dothraki khals who were now effectively leaderless and potentially available for "new patronage," and even evidence of Illyrio's tentative, failed attempts to acquire dragon eggs from other, even more shadowy sources in Asshai and the Shadow Lands. This intelligence was, in many ways, more valuable than the gold.
The immediate priority for Viserys was the further fortification of Dragon's Aerie. Its location, while still a closely guarded secret from the wider world, was now undoubtedly suspected by the likes of Illyrio's former associates (if any remained loyal to his memory) and perhaps even by the more astute intelligence services of Volantis or the Iron Bank. Xaro Xhandar was given carte blanche to transform Aegis and the surrounding islands into an impregnable fortress. New coastal watchtowers, armed with obsidian-tipped ballistae and Myrish fire-throwers, rose on every strategic headland. The harbor entrance was further protected by a massive, retractable sea chain and a series of cleverly concealed underwater obstacles. The Aerie Citadel itself became a true bastion, its walls thickened, its geothermal forges now capable of producing limited quantities of surprisingly resilient obsidian-steel alloy (a Xaro Xhandar innovation using volcanic heat and unique mineral fluxes found on the island) for reinforcing gates and key defensive structures. The Shadow Legion, their numbers now swelling towards ten thousand as new "recruits" continued to arrive from Essos, were drilled relentlessly by Draq in defensive tactics, their role to serve as the unyielding iron core of the islands' defense.
The six young dragons, veterans now of their first fiery engagement, were the ultimate guarantors of Dragon's Aerie's security. Their growth, still fueled by Viserys's increasingly draining blood offerings and the rich diet of fresh meat provided by Aegis's hunters, was astonishing. Balerion, Rhaegal, and Viserion were now easily the size of small elephants, their wingspans capable of carrying them on sustained flights far out to sea, their fiery breath a torrent of incandescent destruction. The three chthonic Firewyrms – Terrax, Tempest, and Obsidian – remained sleeker, more agile, their elemental powers growing in tandem with their size; Terrax could now cause localized earth tremors with his roars, Tempest could summon small, vicious squalls, and Obsidian's scales had become almost diamond-hard, capable of deflecting crossbow bolts.
Viserys and Daenerys began their first true attempts at "training" them, not as pets, but as disciplined weapons of war. Alistair Finch's mind, surprisingly, held little practical knowledge of dragon handling beyond legend and song. But Viserys's own Targaryen instincts, Daenerys's profound empathic connection, and Lyra of Lys's study of the ancient glyphs in the precursor ruins (which seemed to depict complex interactions between the island's original inhabitants and their own dragon-like creatures) provided a foundation. They learned that voice commands in High Valyrian, particularly when imbued with strong emotion and willpower, could direct the dragons' actions. They discovered that Daenerys could soothe their savage tempers with a touch or a song, while Viserys, through the blood-bond, could project a sense of calm authority or focused aggression that they instinctively obeyed. They began to practice formation flying, coordinated fire attacks on designated targets (Xaro Xhandar constructed massive timber and stone targets on one of the smaller, uninhabited islands for this purpose), and even rudimentary aerial combat maneuvers. The process was exhilarating, terrifying, and often fraught with near-disaster, but slowly, painstakingly, the last Targaryens were learning to master the living embodiments of their House's ancient power.
Viserys, in his public persona as Lord of the Aerie, began to subtly cultivate the symbols and trappings of Targaryen royalty. The Phoenix Company banner still flew over Aegis, but alongside it now sometimes appeared a new standard: a stark, three-headed dragon, rendered in obsidian black on a field of blood red, its eyes picked out in fiery orange gemstones. He commissioned Xaro Xhandar to design a new suit of armor for him, not of traditional steel, but of the unique, gleaming black obsidian-steel alloy, intricately etched with Valyrian glyphs that spoke of fire, blood, and kingship. His pronouncements to the Aegis Council took on a more regal, less anonymous tone. He was no longer just the "Benefactor"; he was their undisputed sovereign, his authority absolute, his vision their guiding star. The fear and awe his actions in Pentos had inspired among his own people now began to transform into a fervent, almost messianic, devotion.
Daenerys, now a young woman of sixteen, stepped more fully into her role as the Princess of Dragon's Aerie, the Mother of Dragons. The horrors of Pentos, which Viserys had shielded her from witnessing directly but whose implications she fully understood, had not broken her spirit, but tempered it, forged it into a resolve that matched his own. She became a beloved figure among the settlers of Aegis, her compassion for the sick (whom she often tended alongside Lyra of Lys), her intuitive understanding of the island's strange ecosystem, and her breathtaking beauty making her a living legend. Her connection to the six dragons was her most profound power; they were her children, her companions, her extensions of will. She spent hours with them in the hidden dragonry, speaking to them, grooming them, flying with them on ever longer, more daring aerial sorties around the archipelago, her silver hair streaming like a comet's tail against the azure sky.
The "stone eggs" from Wyvern's Roost, though they had not hatched in the traditional sense, continued to be objects of intense study for Lyra of Lys and Archivist. They still pulsed with a faint, internal warmth and seemed to resonate with the presence of the living dragons and the geothermal activity of Mount Valyria. Lyra theorized they were not true eggs, but perhaps ancient Valyrian (or pre-Valyrian) magical devices, "heartstones" capable of amplifying or storing draconic or elemental energies. She began experiments, cautiously exposing them to different geothermal vents, to dragonfire, even (with Viserys's reluctant permission) to minute quantities of his blood, meticulously recording any changes in their temperature, luminosity, or the strange, almost inaudible, vibrations they sometimes emitted.
The expected overture from Lord Varys arrived sooner than Viserys had anticipated. It came not as a direct message, but through a trusted, high-ranking merchant in Tyrosh whom Kipp's network had long cultivated as an informant. This merchant conveyed a verbal message, its phrasing so convoluted and layered with insinuation that only Alistair Finch's experienced mind could fully parse its true meaning: "A certain Master of Whispers in a distant western capital," the message ran, "has heard tales of a new sun rising in the East, a sun of fire and blood. He wonders if this new sun might be amenable to… illumination… regarding the shadows that currently plague his own troubled land. He possesses unique lanterns that could guide its path, should it choose to shine westward."
It was a classic Varys gambit: an offer of alliance wrapped in a riddle, a promise of aid that was also a subtle assertion of his own indispensability. Viserys knew the Spider was testing him, trying to gauge his intentions, his intelligence, his ruthlessness. He also knew Varys was a creature of pure self-preservation, his loyalties as shifting as the sands of Dorne. To trust him was folly. But to ignore him, to dismiss the potential value of his unparalleled intelligence network in King's Landing, would be equally foolish.
Viserys dictated his reply, equally cryptic, to be relayed back through the same Tyroshi merchant: "The Southern Phoenix appreciates all sources of light, especially those that illuminate the nests of serpents and the dens of lions. However, true suns forge their own paths and are not guided by borrowed lanterns. Should the Master of Whispers wish to offer sincere tribute to the rising dawn, his gifts of knowledge will be… considered… on their merits. But let him be wary, for the Phoenix's fire consumes treachery as readily as it illuminates truth." It was a cautious acknowledgment, an assertion of dominance, and a veiled warning. The deadly dance with the Spider had begun.
As the first year after the Pentos campaign drew to a close, Dragon's Aerie was a realm transformed. Its defenses were formidable, its fleet growing, its unique army training relentlessly, its treasury overflowing, and its skies now frequently graced by the terrifying, magnificent sight of six young dragons testing their wings. The world outside was indeed awakened, its gaze fixed with a mixture of fear and avarice on this new, unpredictable power rising from the southern seas. Viserys, the Dragonlord Ascendant, knew that the demands of the Iron Throne were no longer a distant echo, but an immediate, all-consuming imperative. His next strategic deliberations with his War Council would not be about if they would strike at Westeros, but when, and how. The Dragon's Wake had broken upon the world, and the tide of fire and blood was about to turn inexorably westward.