Dragonstone lay crouched within the Narrow Sea, commanding every seaborne passage leading out from King's Landing.
The whole island seemed black.
And Dragonstone's castle stood upon the highest cliffs of the island.
This was not a castle that mortals could have built.
In the days when the Valyrian Empire stood at its height, it had been forged with black stone craft, made as a stepping stone for the invasion of the continent of Westeros.
The castle's walls were wrought of black stone. Its towers were black stone as well—no seams visible, no marks of masonry to be felt, smooth and cold to the touch.
After the Doom, that craft vanished.
Upon the castle, dragons carved of black stone crouched, reared, or spread their wings as if about to take flight.
They were set into the fortress, baring their fangs and claws.
There was but a single road up the mountain—the Dragon's Spine stair.
A narrow way hewn from solid rock, fit for no more than two men abreast, leading toward the castle.
Beside that narrow path lay empty air, plunging a thousand meters straight down, with reefs below like jagged fangs.
And beneath the castle, there was a road leading to the dragonpit beside the volcano's mouth.
Those great dragons not yet claimed made their lairs within that pit.
The council chamber of Dragonstone lay steeped in a heavy air.
Upon the throne wrought of black stone, hard as iron, sat Rhaenyra, clad in a red gown embroidered with golden thread in the likeness of her house's sigil.
Rhaenyra looked upon the two men within the hall—Daemon Targaryen, and Corlys Velaryon, who had come to attend the council.
"More than four thousand."
"Overnight, the City Watch changed its banners."
"And the Red Keep guard have long been the Greens' dogs."
"Now the whole of King's Landing, together with the Crownlands, lies in Alicent's hands."
"In her son Aemond's hands," Corlys cut in.
She paused, her throat tightening.
"My father… is confined within Maegor's Holdfast. The affairs of the realm are entirely in her grasp."
Rhaenyra closed her eyes in helplessness.
"The Greens have forged a marriage alliance with House Rogare of Lys. Once war begins, the Triarchy will surely enter the fray."
"When that hour comes, we shall be beset before and behind."
Daemon leaned against the black wall of the hall, watching his despondent wife.
"There is no need for such despair, Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra shook her head.
"Jace, Luke, Joff… their dragons are all held within the Dragonpit of King's Landing."
She turned to Corlys Velaryon.
"Lord Corlys, speak plainly."
"At present, we have but three dragonriders. How are we to win this war?"
Corlys frowned.
"I do not know how we are to win, Princess."
"But I know this—if we do not fight, we die."
Corlys felt unease in his heart. Aemond's hostility—he could sense it.
Now, House Velaryon could only stand with Princess Rhaenyra.
If this war were lost, the foundations of House Velaryon would very likely be destroyed by his own hand.
Rhaenyra rose to her feet, her long gown trailing across the floor.
"At present, we have no strength to contend with the Greens."
"Beyond my own bannermen, among the Seven Kingdoms there is not a single lord who dares openly declare for us."
"They fear angering the Greens."
"My dear brother Aemond..."
"One day, should he wake in ill temper, he will have us all hanged upon the walls of the Red Keep!"
She let out a long sigh.
"I will write to Alicent."
Daemon straightened. "What?"
Rhaenyra looked weary.
"I said, I no longer wish to contest it."
"I will renounce my claim to the Iron Throne and keep only Dragonstone."
"Let her grant me peace."
"Even if it is a peace of humiliation."
Corlys's throat bobbed. He wished to speak, to counsel the now despondent Rhaenyra.
And Daemon stepped before her.
"Rhaenyra."
"Look at me."
She raised her eyes.
"If we yield, we place your life, mine, and the lives of all our children into the Greens' hands."
"All who still remain loyal to you will abandon you for your weakness."
He stepped closer.
"Do you think this is a game you may leave whenever you choose?"
At Daemon's words, Rhaenyra's body trembled slightly.
Daemon took her trembling hand. "But I have a way."
He turned and pressed his palm against the dragon-eye relief carved into the black stone wall behind the throne.
A mechanism turned. A hidden door slid open without a sound.
"We have another path," Daemon said, stepping aside.
"Enter, my honored guest."
A woman emerged from the concealed doorway.
She was a little over thirty years of age. Silver hair, like a waterfall woven of moonlight, fell to her waist, threaded with small black pearls.
Her skin was pale as new-fallen snow, her indigo eyes unfathomably deep.
She wore a white robe with a black ground and gold-edged trim. Its high collar was drawn tight. The hem trailed upon the floor yet did not appear cumbersome.
She gave a graceful bow.
"Permit me to introduce myself." Her voice carried the cadence peculiar to the eastern shores of the Narrow Sea.
"I am Eluna Lanser, from within the Black Walls of Volantis, one of the three Archons of the Blood Council."
Corlys rose to his feet and looked to Daemon in confusion. "Volantis?!"
Daemon smiled. "Since the Greens dare to collude with the Triarchy, to set us upon both front and rear…"
"Why should we still cling to the old rule of holding no dealings with Volantis?"
Daemon looked toward Rhaenyra. "Are we to sit here in despair and wait?"
"To wait for Aemond to come upon dragonback, leading his host to ring Dragonstone in iron?"
Eluna took up the words. "Princess Rhaenyra, Lord Corlys, allow me to speak plainly. You are considering how to prevail in a civil war within Westeros."
"What we of Volantis see is an opportunity that comes but once in a thousand years."
"An opportunity to rebuild the Valyrian Freehold."
The words Freehold struck the stone hall like a thunderclap.
Eluna's voice grew low and distant. "Hundreds of years ago, the Fourteen Flames devoured our homeland."
"The surviving dragonlords were scattered to the winds, only to be torn apart by Qohor, Norvos, Lys… by the uprisings of slaves and servants."
"Only we of Volantis preserved within the Black Walls the bloodline, the texts, and the laws of Valyria."
"Though we do not possess the blood to command dragons, nor the means to tame them."
"Yet we have ever been the rightful heirs of the Freehold."
A fervor flashed in Eluna's eyes.
"In the Century of Blood a hundred years past, we came close to success."
"Our armies swept across the Disputed Lands. Lys and Myr fell in turn. Tyrosh stood upon the brink."
"In those days, we sent envoys to Dragonstone as well, seeking the aid of House Targaryen."
Eluna's smile turned cold.
"We promised that if Aegon would join us with his dragons, our council would acknowledge House Targaryen as co-ruler."
"But your forebear Aegon refused. Instead, he allied with those rabble city-states and, astride the Black Dread, burned our legions to ash."
Only the sound of breathing remained within the stone hall.
"But that is the past." Eluna drew a deep breath.
"Now, the opportunity has come again."
"We of Volantis still command the greatest army upon the eastern continent."
"Our treasury is piled with gold, and our shipyards labor day and night."
She looked straight at Rhaenyra. "Princess, you require an army."
"We require the aid of dragons to unify the eastern continent. It is a complement of strengths between us."
After a long silence, Rhaenyra spoke. "Speak of your plan."
"In the short term, an alliance." Eluna raised one finger.
"The Volantene fleet and the Driftmark fleet will join forces to launch a surprise strike upon the Lysene navy."
"At the same time, Prince Daemon, together with you and Lady Rhaenys, three dragons will strike the fleet anchored in the harbor of Tyrosh."
"Afterward, the armies of Volantis will mount a full invasion of the Disputed Lands."
"With Lys and Tyrosh deprived of their fleets, they will be unable to cross the sea to support Myr."
"Then we shall take Myr, and in the end, our navy will press directly beneath the walls of Lys."
Corlys's eyes brightened. To strike first…
The Triarchy would never expect Volantis to join hands with them.
"In the mid-term," Eluna raised a second finger.
"We rebuild the Empire. Once the Triarchy collapses, we shall reclaim the Three Cities in the name of restoring Valyrian legitimacy."
"At that time, House Targaryen shall become the nominal supreme ruler."
"All daily affairs and governance shall be overseen by our council."
"Supreme ruler?" Rhaenyra asked sharply.
Eluna smiled and raised a third finger.
"You, and your heir, shall bear the title of Emperor of Valyria."
"In accordance with ancient custom, administration, taxation, and law shall be deliberated jointly by the Dragonlord and the council."
Rhaenyra felt a wave of dizziness. "And Westeros?"
"A future object of imperial conquest," Eluna replied lightly. "To be governed by one you trust."
"The restored Valyrian Empire shall stretch from the Sunset Sea to the Shadow of Asshai."
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