Before, the Game of Thrones, the seven kingdoms saw the rise of Westeros as a united country, all seven kingdoms forged into one great kingdom under the greatest dynasty. The story revolves around Aegon and his two sister-queens; their ascent and th...
Sleep did not come easy for Aegon. It was a night to be spent with Visenya. He had laid in bed for hours with heavy lids but his mind would not stop working. He turned from side to side, each position uncomfortable. He knew what his sisters would say- take something from maester and go to sleep.
He had had this problem in his early ears. His lady mother would stay with him all night, running her hands through his hair and that would lull the young lord to sleep. But she was long dead now, turned into ash from dragon fire. Instead of the soft touch of her hands, he had the maester prepare him the sleep draught.
Lately, however he had been noticing its lessening effect on him. Maybe it was his body getting used to the medicine or the stress getting better of him. To be just, he did have a lot to worry about.
The war has been in their favor. As their force gained victory, the Westerosis had no choice but to throw down their swords as the news of their victory spread through riverlands. Ravens flew in and out, forewarning the remaining houses to gather their strength.
Duskendale was the principal Westerosi port on the narrow sea and had grown fat and wealthy from the trade that passed through its harbor. Lord Darklyn was proved to be a quick minded ruler. As the words of Aegon's triumph reached his ears, together with Mooton of Maidenpool, he had raised an impressive army of three thousand men and marched south.
In the middle of revelry of their newest conquest, the Targaryen host were slacking. The watchers had abandoned their posts to join in merry making between the harsh battles. The common people, at the end of battle had welcomed their new overlords with feasts and celebration. Under their previous lords, they did not have the assurance the new King promised. The new regime sat well with them than it did before, his advisers had made sure of that. Visenya's strength won over their lands and Rhaenys won over their hearts.
They almost took the Targaryen host by surprise.
Their spy, posted on the outskirts of their camp had a hard riding when he sighted the approaching enemy. He managed to croak out the news before passing out at Aegon's feet.
Those capable of standing at least shuffled forwards with their spears. The fire of joy was trampled under battle cry, barrels of wines overturned and wasted as people ran for shelter as arrows started to rain.
They were not enough to hold off the army and Aegon himself had to rush forth to tarry the battle for next day. Come morrow, Orys rode forth astride his black stallion leading the troops. The natives were twice their numbers and with better knowledge of land, overwhelmed the invaders.
The battle had lasted till sundown.
Visenya soared above the sky and reported equal casualty on both sides. The next day was the same. Lord Velaryon took a gash on his left arm as he cut down one of the captains. Death collected his tokens equally from both side.
Beside him, his supporters fretted and frowned with dismay when Aegon announced his intent to rein back his dragons. Even the dragons had impatient being restrained from blood.
Outside his tents, only crickets buzzed and the dying fire flickered on his wall. Aegon rose and retrieved the wool cloak trapped under Visenya. She grunted in her sleep and turned to her left, soaked in the comfort of what sleep deprived him.
He walked over the rows of men lying down, huddled together for warmth. Few that stayed guard were murmuring among themselves and hardly noticed their King pass. The sky was awake. Instead of black, smoky red cloud floated and thunder rumbled in the horizon. The air was still however.
Far outside the boundary, a solitary fire burnt. In its warmth sat a man sharpening his sword. On first glance, he'd gave passed for sellsword, with conscience so bloody that the gods had taken away his peace. But closer, he saw the sea green cloak and the sea horse carved into his shield.
"My king." Colrys Velaryon greeted and gave up his sitting stone for him.
"Could you not sleep?"
Aegon nodded. Colrys was one of trainees of Visenya. She had taken him in as her ward, still a summer boy and not a man grown yet. Aegon had seen him in fight. He was quick and agile with streak of recklessness typical of his age. "Shall I fetch the maester?"
Aegon shook his head again. "You are not asleep either. Who set you on watching duty?"
"None, my king. I stay up the night before every battle. I can not rest until it is over."
Colrys did not bother him till some time. "You are going to ride Balerion today." He remarked.
"Yes." Aegon answered, eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Why did you wait so long? We could have squashed them in first battle. Our loss is greater as we have lesser number."
"Why do you think?" He turned to his Valyrian cousin.
Colrys scrunched his brows and looked Aegon in the eye. "Because we just gained the commoner's trust?"
"Clever boy." Aegon snatched up a twig from the ground and lit it with fire. "You'll find less resistance while conquering with love than hate, especially when you want to build, not turn everything to ash.
It is crucial that we should maintain the image of leniency we created."
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As anticipated, it started to rain before the drums of war sounded.
Aegon waited till he heard the clash of swords and horse whinny in the distance before he mounted his ride. Instead of headlong attack, the Targaryen army divided in two and flocked at the sides of the Westerosi army, effectively trapping them in between.
Along with the thunder that cracked across the sky, Balerion and Vhagar's screech rang through the air. Aegon could hear the moment all shields fell and all eyes turned upwards. Aegon signaled his mount to swoop down.
Few of those mighty capable of functional mind loosed crossbows. They deflected off the spines and scales on Balerion's breast. The dragon flew back into the sky and came down vertically with twice the speed before and unleashed its wrath.
The agonizing sound of burnt men echoed all around as fumes rose as high as towers. Flame so hot that the crisp burnt ashes flew into air. With thunderous flap of its wings, Balerion descended to the ground and landed in the middle of battle. Aegon did not have to dismount. The handful enemies that charged at him was slain before they could get within fifty foot of him.
Vhagar above was pursuing the scattered men. Visenya had strict orders to abstain from fight and she flew her dragon Duskendale.
As rain ceased in the evening and all fallen swords collected, Rosby turned the counts in. Both Lords Darklyn and Mooton had perished in battle along with their front line. The residual army that had run off the field had been rounded up and bent their knee to the victorious Dragonlord.
A day and a half journey north, they found the gates of Duskendale to be wide open. The posts over parapeet abandoned and the high walls bald.
Visenya had obtained surrender from the castellan of the Dun Fort: Darklyn's remaining son and Maidenpool from Mooton's brother.
As their armies filed in, hooves clattering against the cobbled streets, the windows parted, just a little and the residents poked their head out. Their eyes frightened yet curious. The many septs that sheltered the frightened crowd had now opened their doors. Visenya had not allowed the town to be sacked, rather collected its riches from the Dun Fort.
Afternoon found them assembled in the court of Dun Fort. In front of his people Darklyn and Mooton set down their scepter and bent the knee, swearing allegiance to House Targaryen.
