The Conquest

Visenya

Clunk. Clunk. Cluck.

The hammer fell on the wooden stake driving into the ground. A few more and they'd have their first stable made. Around it, an armory was being crafted where the blacksmiths battered on anvils and forging new blades. The palisade was already created and hosted the Targaryen army. Over the highest hill, the masons were raising walls with earth as they could not afford to raise a stone fort yet.

Visenya parted the curtain of her tent, allowing the sun brighten the musty darkness inside as well as her skin. She had been up last night, discussing strategies with Lord Massey and her husband. Rhaenys had left for Rosby the previous morning, flying on Meraxes.

It was an easy victory, she had sent word. House Rosby had barricaded their castle with the sparse men they had. They did not have to face the dragon however. After the first successful breach, Benedict Rosby had come out in his courtyard and laid down their swords at her feet.

Visenya broke her fast with salty bread and burnt ham. She did not complain. Her mind was taken up by the tingling flow of excitement in her veins of the battle that awaited her. She saw Aegon approaching her along with Orys, dressed impeccably in blood red. It made her heart swell.

"Sister."

"Brother, darling." She pushed the plate of ham towards Aegon as he sat down. "Have some."

"I already broke my fast." He informed. Orys dug in, seizing a handful.

"It is a fine weather." Orys remarked. "Should be an easy one."

"It is but word should have traveled to them by now. They must be prepared after Rosby."

"No need of concern, my love. A few arrows is nothing against a dragon." Visenya said. She was however, aware that Westerosis had more than arrows to charge with. Crossbrows have sure and deadly aim, but it was unlikely they could do much harm.

Visenya wore her armor light. The usual iron chainmails were too heavy and restricted her movement. She had a new and thinner chainmail made from steel. It provided less safety but Visenya was sure of her strike; no one could get past her blade. Over it she put on armor. Three headed dragon emboldened on the chest. Her, Aegon and Rhaenys.

Her husband and Orys accompanied her to the hill where Vhagar was basking in sun. Golden rays glinted off its moss green scale, and its bronze horn shone as bright as gold. Vhagar hummed at recognition of its rider.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Do what is necessary." Aegon said. Visenya nodded and made to walk towards her mount. Aegon held her back. "Only what is necessary, Visenya."

A familiar thrill of energy seeped through her skin as Visenya touched the heated scale. Vhagar lowered its neck to the ground. Visenya climbed on its feet first, taking care not to hurt herself on its claws. She gripped one of the smaller horns near its jaw and clambered up as Vhagar raised its head, reducing the men to spots beneath her feat.

Spreading her massive wings, Vhagar screeched and gave an almighty lurch, beating its wings to push off the ground.

The foot soldiers had been dispatched as soon as dawn broke on the narrow sea. Visenya found them stationed just outside the barren field east of Castle Stokeworth.

The men gave off hoots and cheers and cleared the ground for her landing.

"Has the messenger delivered our proposal yet?" She asked Jallen as soon as she dismounted.

"He has, my queen." Jallen answered falling in step with her as she approached the front.

"And?"

"They'd rather fight."

Visenya gave out a mocking laugh. "They do not know what they have challenged. But we shall give him a chance. Send our fastest rider. Tell Stokeworth I'm giving him till sundown. Or tomorrow, I shall burn down their castle, starting with it's maiden tower."

She did not have to wait till sundown. The rider came back with the Lord's verbal message: he would not surrender to a foreign woman.

She sent out their first troop consisting of a hundred and twenty men who surrounded the castle. The villagers had shut themselves in their hut, and so left alone. A hundred more joined them later, raising ladders and climbing up the castle fort. With thirty men, Jallen charged at the front gate.

It was taking longer than she had judged. Howls of pain and clash of swords reached her ear but she could not say from which side. Beside her, Vhagar was growing impatient with the smell of blood.

As the sun was already setting, Visenya mounted Vhagar once again and spurred it towards the bosom of battle.

With a whoosh an arrow shot past her. Vhagar ducked at the exact moment to avoid its rider getting hit. Then came another, missing her by few feet. They were not arrows from normal bows, Visenya realized. Their range suggested crossbow.

"Fire!" Stokeworth cried loosening a few more bolts that Vhagar avoided rising into the sky. She circled the castle for a while, using Vhagar only as a tool for scaring them to submission. But the Westerosis seemed to have a lot of spirit in their blood, more than she thought.

Just then, a harpoon came whirling at her. It hit the dragon on its neck but could not get past its impenetrable scales. Visenya charged down from the clouds.

"Dracarys!"

The incoming arrows turned to ash as Vhagar's flame devoured them all. The nearest tower lit up like a torch. Smoke as thick as ice rose mingled with wails of burnt soldiers.

Their defense broke like a twig snapped by the slightest effort. With one final roar that emitted smoke, Vhagar landed on the courtyard. It was too small for a dragon of such size and took off once it had dropped its rider.

"Where are the rest of you?" Visenya asked after counting her numbers.

"Off to town, my queen."

"Send the word. I will not allow the town to be sacked. I hear any complaint, he'll lose his head."

Jallen took her inside. The fires have not damaged much of the interior and left most of its resident unharmed. They were on their knees, weapons laid out before. Her army were picking them up and piling to a corner. They'll be carted off to Aegon.

It was a beautiful castle, much more hospitable than gloomy Dragonstone. The walls were painted blue like ocean with years of paintings hanging off. Lord Stokeworth was in his chamber, sitting at the head of his council table with only two guards by his side. Visenya told her retinue to stay back and proceeded alone.

As soon as she sat down in front of him, Lord Stokeworth took off a pin off his vest and laid it on the table without offering any word. Two arrows crossed together. Visenya's face blooms with smile at the taste of victory. 

"You have chosen well, my Lord."