Chapter 38: Rekindling the Bloodlines and the Scattered Seeds
With the Myrosh administration taking shape and the armies set to expand his domain, Maegor turned his attention to a matter even more fundamental to his long-term vision: the security and proliferation of the Targaryen bloodline itself. He understood that military conquest was fleeting without a strong, fertile dynasty to hold it.
He summoned the core Targaryen blood in his court: Ser Kaeto, Daenerys, and Viserys. They gathered in Maegor's private study, a quiet chamber filled with maps and the faint scent of parchment. Balerion, though not present, was often seen soaring outside, his growing size a testament to the power Maegor wielded.
"The three of us," Maegor began, his gaze sweeping over them, his voice firm yet with a rare, personal intensity, "are the last direct, known flames of the Dragon. Daenerys, you are destined to be my Queen, the mother of my primary heirs. Viserys, you are a prince of the blood, diminished but still vital. And Ser Kaeto, you represent a lost but powerful branch, the true blood of Prince Duncan the Small."
He placed a hand on the table, Blackfyre gleaming faintly at his hip. "I have studied our House's history, the strengths and, more importantly, the fatal weaknesses that led to our downfall. One crucial flaw was our dwindling numbers, our reliance on too few branches. That will change. We will ensure the Targaryen blood, and the loyal bloodlines tied to us, runs deep and wide through many veins."
Maegor then presented his strategy. "Ser Kaeto, I require a list of all Houses that remained unequivocally loyal to House Targaryen during Robert's Rebellion. Those who bled for us, even in defeat."
Kaeto, always prepared, nodded. "My King, the names are few, but their loyalty was fierce. House Celtigar of Claw Isle, steadfast Valyrian loyalists. House Connington of Griffin's Roost, loyal to Prince Rhaegar. And House Massey of Stonedance, who always answered the call."
Maegor reviewed the names, his mind calculating. "Excellent. We will write to these three Houses immediately. Not as a plea, but as an invitation. A new age has dawned for House Targaryen. We require their loyalty, and their blood."
He looked at Viserys, a grim, appraising gaze. Viserys flinched. "Viserys, you are to be married to a loyal house. But you, too, will require heirs beyond a single marriage. I will find you a suitable wife. But for now, from one of these loyal Houses, I will request a woman to be your mistress. She will bear your children. Her children will not bear the Targaryen name, but a different surname, creating a loyal, powerful branch of our House, without succession rights to the main line, but utterly bound to us."
Viserys, still cowed, merely nodded, too afraid to argue, too desperate for even this small measure of purpose.
Maegor then looked at Kaeto. "Ser Kaeto, you, too, are Targaryen blood. Your lineage, the line of Prince Duncan the Small, is too valuable to simply end. You will marry. Not just for heirs, but to connect us to a loyal Valyrian line that can replenish our strength. We will send a separate letter, more personal, more direct, to the House Velaryon of Driftmark. They are the oldest and noblest of the surviving Valyrian houses in Westeros, always loyal, though sometimes subtly. If there are any suitable Velaryon women, a daughter or a cousin, they will be invited to Myrosh, to marry you, Ser Kaeto. Your children will carry on Prince Duncan's line, ensuring that branch of our family thrives."
Kaeto's eyes widened, a profound emotion stirring within him. To have his forgotten lineage not only acknowledged but deliberately propagated… it was an honor he had never dared to dream of. "My King," he said, his voice thick with gratitude, "I will serve you with every fiber of my being. My line will be forever bound to yours."
As he spoke, Maegor's gaze fell on another name in his mind's database of Targaryen history – a name he had read about, a branch of the family that had once produced powerful figures, but had died out or faded into obscurity: Brightflame.
"And there is another name that interests me," Maegor mused aloud, a dangerous curiosity in his eyes. "The Brightflames. Descendants of Prince Aerion Brightflame. I believe a grandson, Aenar Brightflame, may still exist, perhaps in Essos." He turned to Kaeto. "Find information on Aenar Brightflame. If he has a daughter, I want Viserys to marry her. This will bind Aerys II's bloodline to a more formidable, albeit erratic, branch. It will secure Viserys's progeny within a strong Targaryen cadet line."
"Furthermore," Maegor commanded, a grander vision taking shape, "we will extend an invitation to Aenar Brightflame himself. Invite him and any trusted members of his household to settle here in Myrosh. Offer them lands, power, and a place at my court. We need loyal men, knights, and advisors who are directly tied to our blood."
The discussion then turned to the critical importance of reproduction for the three Targaryen men. Maegor spoke of the strategic necessity of many children, of strong bloodlines, of ensuring a deep pool of Targaryen and Targaryen-allied heirs. He made it clear that while Daenerys would produce his direct heirs, the Velysarion line through Lyra, and the new lines through Viserys and Kaeto, were equally vital for the long-term security of the dynasty.
"Now, Ser Kaeto," Maegor said, his expression softening slightly, a rare personal note entering his voice. "You spoke of your own family. Your mother, your siblings, Prince Duncan's other children. Where are they? Are they still alive? Where are they scattered?" A flicker of genuine curiosity, almost tenderness, touched his eyes. "I will not have a loyal knight, a Targaryen by blood, be alone. If they live, I will find them. Even if it takes years, and a hundred men, I will send my resources to find and bring them here, to Myrosh. To be part of our family, our court, our new legacy."
Kaeto's face was etched with surprise, then a profound gratitude. To have a King, a Dragon, offer to seek out his long-lost, scattered kin… it was an overwhelming gesture of true family.
"My King," Kaeto began, his voice thick with emotion, "they were scattered after the Rebellion. My mother, Duncan's bastard daughter… she fled to Essos, eventually settling in Tyrosh, living as a common seamstress. I do not know if she lives still. I had a younger sister, also born in Essos, who I believe eventually went to Myr, seeking work in the pleasure houses, though I pray that is not true. As for my grandfather's other children, if he had any, or his other bastards… their fate is unknown. The Velaryons might know more of Duncan's connections."
"They are whispers, my King," Kaeto admitted, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Just rumors. After the defeat, we scattered and hid. Many changed their names, their identities, to survive. Finding them will be like finding needles in a thousand haystacks across two continents."
"Then we will find them," Maegor stated, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. "We have the resources. We have the will. The Dragon does not abandon its blood. These are not merely rumors, Ser Kaeto. They are threads of our strength, waiting to be woven back into the tapestry of House Targaryen."
He looked at his kin, then back to Kaeto. "Draft these letters immediately. To Celtigar, Connington, Massey, Velaryon, and the Brightflames. Be precise. Be firm. And begin the discreet inquiries into your family's whereabouts. Use my resources, my network. The Dragon's reach is long. And now, it extends to finding all its lost children."