The Bronze Dragon-A House of the Dragon fanfic

Chapter 9

Arnold Arryn had already risen once against Lady Jeyne, and had apparently nearly succeeded. In this second attempt of his, he would prove remarkably less successful. He rallied merely a small army that he would never have been able to seize control of the Vale with and was composed of a truly pitiful lot: second and third sons, hedge knights with only basic arms and armour, and a handful of landless nobles who had been promised a restoration of their lands.

It was my father's first battle, as well as that of Lord Tully's. Records of the battle remain sparse; after all, it was a fairly minor engagement by the standards of the Dance, which got closer every day. What is known is that my father had his first brush with the Stranger that day . . .

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There weren't many things Daevar feared, and the dark certainly wasn't one of them. Even if the crypt was dimly lit by the torches scattered about it, he had the lay of the area memorized thanks to his frequent visits. He began counting the various graves that were neatly organized in a row before coming to one that lay right beside the tomb of the last Lord of Runestone, Lord Yorbert Royce; his maternal grandfather. Sitting before him was a small stone statue of a woman, not wrapped in fancy silks or dressed like a septa, but adorned the runic armour of House Royce and a pair of breeches. She was posed standing firm, with a bow in one hand, and an arrow in another; his mother looked every part the Lady of Runestone.

Daevar frowned at the state of the statue before him; it had not been tended to in the weeks that he was away. He began wiping off the cobwebs that clung to the stone with his bare fingers, as well as brushing out any dust that happened to linger. Once he was certain it was clean - as clean as he could allow it be, at least - Daevar knelt down before the statue, placing a small candle at its feet. Once the candle was lit, Daevar interlocked his hands and began to pray. It was not something he was very particular about, but he made a note to pray for his mother ever since he was a child; it was the only way he could feel close to her.

"Mother..." He began. "I'm not sure if you've been watching, but a lot has happened these last few months. I met my sisters. The daughters of Laena Valaryon. You'd like them, I think, though I'm not sure what to feel about them... how am I supposed to treat them as my sisters when I barely know them?"

The statue, as always, remained silent. Maybe he really was going mad; thinking that his mother could hear him talking. He liked to believe that she still watched over him, in whatever place the Stranger would take the newly departed. She had to be. She wouldn't abandon him like his father did. At least he had certainly hoped not. "Mother, there is something else... King Viserys has betrothed me to his daughter, Princess Helaena. My cousin. I'm not sure what to think of it; things are tense between the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra, and I'm afraid this marriage may get me caught in the midst of it." He shook his head for a second. "Daemon also married Rhaenyra right after laying Laena to rest. He hasn't changed. I don't think he ever will." He felt his hands begin to tremble as the memory of his father entered his head. "Sometimes... I wish it was him who died instead of you. I wish–"

He was suddenly cut off by a bell ringing outside. Quickly, he got up, leaving the crypt and heading straight for the courtyard. Once his torch was extinguished and placed on a rack, he emerged to see soldiers forming up in the courtyard, and horses being brought out from the stables. A few of the men present had shields bearing the three ravens of the Corbrays, while others bore the red castle of Redfort. Those Daevar recognised as senior commanders were barking orders to their subordinates, who rushed to prepare. After trying to make his way through the hustling, he finally found Gerold speaking with Ser Corwyn.

"Gerold, what's happening? Why does it look like we're getting ready for war?" He asked.

"Because we are." Gerold replied, grimly. "Arnold Arryn is encamped near here with four thousand men. Lady Jeyne is gathering forces near the Eyrie, but has given Ser Corwyn command of a force down here to attack immediately." He explained grimly.