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...
A.N- Honestly I have no excuse for taking this long. I kinda fell out of love with this story but I have found inspiration again. I hope I can keep up the streak.
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Visenya rose at the crack of dawn as it was the norm with her. They say the morning air does more healing than the hands of the most gifted maesters and she had found it to be true to some extent. Wrapping a cloak around herself, she ventured out in the misty hills. She left the Aegonfort behind, a more defined structure than the one she had seen before she left to war. It had stables now with the best breeds of horses and granaries full of fresh corn to feed the mouths that lived within the mud and thatch dwelling but it did not suit the Dragonlords of Valyria. They may conquer a thousand kingdoms but they cannot bring back the bygone beauty of a ruined empire.
Dew has fallen all over the grass that carpeted the hills. Visenya's foot was bare and the flimsy nightdress she wore underneath did nothing to shield her from the sharp wind. Winter is coming, the Starks say. It will be a long one if the maesters were to be heeded. The small folks have started gathering all that the war had spared- barely sufficient for half a decade. Men fight well when they are drunk on lust for power and dominion but hunger makes a vicious in a no way glory can. An entire kingdom can purge if the common folks have nothing to survive on for a hungry man is master to none but his body.
The heaviness swelling inside her made Visenya weary so she banished it from her mind. Instead she focused on the wind that came from the ocean carrying the fragrance of freshly cut grain and spices within the cargo of the returning ships. She stopped on her track and closed her eyes, letting the air lift her away far from here. She was no longer Queen Visenya, wife to Aegon the Conqueror but just another spirit, one with nature. She let her facade fall away- there was no one looking and exhaled, letting go of the tears she had tucked away. Her lips quivered and a broken sob escaped but she had never this light in a while.
Before the sun was above the treeline, Visenya was back in her chamber. She called for a bath before she went to break her fast. Not long she had dipped her foot in the scalding water, she received a summon from her brother.
"Tell him I shall meet him as soon as I break my fast."
"But my queen, his grace says its urgent." The squire squeaked.
"If it's so urgent he can come by himself." Visenya snapped. She hadn't meant to be so harsh. He was just a stand-in for the one she intended the rebuke for. Aegon had once again chosen to spend a night full of tender love-making with Rhaenys than spend one night he had promised Visenya. It wasn't that she missed her brother's cock, she had others to please her. But people talked. They talked of the severe, unforgiving queen so cruel that even her brother shunned her.
Instead of delaying as much as she can just to irk Aegon, Visenya found herself rising from the bath. She needed to banish the grave concerns about her declining reputation; she'd deal with it later. She dressed herself in red and black silk. Unlike Rhaenys who had her handmaidens deck her with jewels and flowers as they traded gossips in great merriment, the elder Targaryen prepared alone. Rhaenys had quickly become the darling of the realm. Her amiable and easy-going nature though not always genuine but an act, had won her the affection of the common folks sooner than swords did.
Since his ascent, Aegon had left both of his sister in charge of the realm. Visenya saw to order and administration while Rhaenys with her gentle nature, dealt with grievances of the small folks. She imbibed all Westerosi traditions and sponsored many festivities that projected her as one of their own. The harvest festival had severely depleted the coffers but Visenya had to agree- it was clever plan and the commoners ate it up eagerly.
Deeming her attire to be complete, Visenya appeared in the King's Court where Aegon held the his council meetings. The King's court was a court in name only. It was a wider room with higher ceiling, and a large oak table in front of a raised platform upon which was a peculiar structure- a throne made of swords of the fallen in battlefield. Aegon had them assimilated into a terrifying monstrosity, jagged and formless. Sharp tips of swords jutted out like fangs of dragons that prove fatal for slight clumsiness. A king should not sit easy, Aegon had said. There won't be many kings if all of them started to lose their limbs to this death trap. Iron Throne, they had started to call it.
"It's hideous." Visenya said when she felt Aegon's presence next to her. "Whoever comes after us, I hope they tear it down."
"You are cruel sister." Aegon said with a small smile. Visenya didn't return it.
"I'v been told. Now what is the urgency that forbids me from breaking my fast?"
"A raven came early morning. There is no point softening the blow. We have lost Sunspear." Aegon announced gravely.
So stunned she was, Visenya could scarce speak. When she managed, it was a growl. "How?"
"They retook the castle."
"I inferred that. How did we lose the castle? Didn't you say it was deserted?"
"It was then. Our birds tell us they had been hiding in Shadow city- all who had retreated."
"How could this be? We had left an entire garrison behind. You put Rosby in charge. What happened to him."
"Captured and thrown off the castle."
Rosby was the castellan left in charge of Sunspear after they had subdued the unconquered Dorne. It wasn't a easy battle. It required both Aegon and Rhaenys (Visenya remained at King's Landing by Aegon's insistence) and their vicious dragons to bring Dorne to their knee. Victory came at a great cost.Blood was shed on both sides, many burnt and others died from heat and thirst in the desert. Upon arriving at Sunspear, they had found the lords and the Princess had fled. Declaring themselves victorious, they had returned putting Rosby in charge of the castle and Tyrell in charge of maintaining peace. The clever Dornishmen had taken advantage of their laxness. They had waited for the most opportune moment and having found it, they had struck.
The swishing sound of cloth made Visenya looked up- Rhaenys was approaching, her face swollen and crimson. Visenya highly doubted the death of a common lord would affect her sister so. She looked at Aegon for explanation who for the first time looked down.
"The raven brought more news. Orys has been captured."
