Of Bastards & Dragons || Aenar Targaryen

90 • BLACK BOATS

"Thank you, Ser Strong," Aenar remarked. "It's much appreciated."

Ser Strong nodded his head, knowing that he wasn't actually wanting further remarks from the King. He backed away, though still lingered in the room, as if he were just as interested in the contents of the letter as he was.

It was a level of curiosity that was also matched by Daemon, sitting at the table and closely analysing his brother's reactions to the words, although he certainly hid his intrigue better than his counterpart. It was just because Aenar knew him so well that he could tell what he was thinking.

Instead of focusing on the Daemon or the curious Lord, Aenar turned his attention to the parchment in his hands. A familiar scrawl of writing greeted her, which comforted him somewhat, seeing as it meant the person in question hadn't been killed.

At least at the time the letter had been sent. There were two points to the missive, both equally as surprising as the other. He made sure to read the words twice, and a third time too, to make sure that he understood them properly. It was a decision that only served to captivate his companions further, the two men anxiously waiting for an explanation.

"Well?" Daemon asked impatiently.

"One of our dragons has taken a new rider," he said, using a tone of voice that was much calmer than she was truly feeling. "Shipstealer, to be precise."

Daemon instantly stood up, his hand visibly itching to reach for his sword. Aenar idly wondered what his brother was planning on doing, whether he thought he could tackle the beast himself, despite its great size and the fact that they were countless leagues away.

But it spoke more of how jumpy his brother had grown to be, and how greatly he desired a fresh taste of combat. He would have surely battled a dragon if it meant abandoning Harrenhal, and Aenar couldn't blame him.

"The Greens," Daemon barked.

Aenar lifted a hand to stop Daemon before he descended into fervent madness. "Surprisingly, no. It seems that, when Sheepstealer was spotted with someone upon his back, our allies at Dragonstone panicked just as much as you're wanting to do."

"I'm not panicking," Daemon sulked. "I'm reacting appropriately to the news."

"If you let me explain, you'll understand why there's no need to react. Rhaenys planned to meet with the mystery rider, only to find that they willingly flew to the castle themselves. It turns out that Sheepstealer has bonded with a member of Corlys Velaryon's fleet."

"A sailor?"

"She must possess some lineage connected to our family. I suppose."

"She?"

"Yes Daemon. A girl or a woman." Aenar shrugs.

"But still...a sailor?"

"Whatever her background seems to be, she's already pledged herself to our cause. I'm told she would like to bend the knee in front of me. We've been trying to find riders for the wild dragons roaming on our island, and now it appears that they're just as willing to speed up the process. I'd considered searching for noble lords and ladies of Targaryen descent, ones who had married into other families, but I'd never seen this as a possibility. How many people must there be out there, with our blood running through their veins? People, it must be said, who are apparently capable of taming dragons and bringing them to our side."