If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
[---]
123 AC, Dragonstone
Baela Targaryen approached the Potters' manse with trepidation, still thinking of the last time she had been there, where she had tried to burn the entire thing to the ground. Lord Harry had stopped Moondancer easily enough, without any issues. But the guilt remained, especially given that a few days later, the man and his wife had been the ones to save her and her sister's lives.
She didn't want to return to the scene of her greatest shame, to where she had lost control simply because she was jealous of her sister spending time with them and enjoying herself without her.
Baela could still remember the blinding anger she felt, the hot rage burning through her, that made her want to burn it all away. Her grandmother had spent weeks teaching her to reign it in, control what she called the 'Dragon's Rage', but that didn't change the fact that she was terrified of losing control once more and perhaps even hurt Rhaena.
Speaking of her sister, she was practically shaking in excitement at seeing the Potters once more, and perhaps more than she usually would have been because Baela was there with her. Rhaena still did not know what she had done. No one but her grandparents had. She thought that they might have told her father, since he acted strangely after they were healed. He stopped being insistent on stopping her grandparents' punishment, for one, including their dagger lessons. However, he hadn't spoken of anything with Baela, so she thought he might simply be worried about her injuries.
Truthfully, while she didn't particularly like the idea of her father knowing about her actions, it was her sister's reaction that she dreaded. Rhaena had spent most of the time since they were healing talking about the Potters, about Lady Daphne's food, the manse that was full of magic, even instruments that could play music without a bard.
It sounded like a wonderful place, and yet every word made Baela's guilt grow. This was the place that she had tried to burn, after all. She had no right to like it, let alone visit it.
Unfortunately, she wasn't given a choice in the matter. Rhaena had accepted the Potters' invitation before she could even think of a reason to protest. At least, her grandparents would be there, but for how long? Knowing Rhaena, they would come to the manse multiple times, and Grandmother was leaving soon with the King to be his Hand, something that her stepmother was very resentful of.
Her grandfather would remain, and Baela knew that it was to keep an eye on her in his wife's stead. She was glad for it, the assurance that someone would try to stop her if she went too far again, but as impressive as the Sea Snake was, he did not have a dragon. Her father couldn't exactly help. She loved him, but he would likely help her burn things instead of stopping her. Princess Rhaenyra could do it, but as of late, she'd been more occupied with being angry at the King, especially given last night's proclamations.
She still rolled her eyes about the previous day's dinner. The King had commanded that her baby brother, Aegon, would marry his new granddaughter, Jaehaera. She didn't like the Hightowers much, but they were just babes. There was time to stop the betrothal if they really wanted to, and there was no use being angry at it for now.
Meeting the Potters again was far more important, after all.
Baela stiffened and her thoughts broke at the sound of knocking, only to realise that they had arrived in front of the door and that Rhaena had excitedly knocked on the manse's door. The girl hadn't been allowed to take Solarys with her, despite her protests. Her dragon had gotten large enough that it wouldn't be able to stay in the castle anymore. Baela suppressed the jealousy she felt due to Moondancer's growth being so slow.
Still, the wooden door opened on its own, and Rhaena walked forward without hesitation, obviously knowing the rooms. "Don't worry, if the door opens, then that means that we're expected. They're probably in the 'living room'."
"Living room?" her grandmother repeated, obviously as unfamiliar with the title as they were.
"It's where they sit when they spend time together. Both Lord Harry and Lady Daphne have a study of their own, and some room for dangerous stuff, so they made a room where they live together. Here, let me show you. Just try not to touch anything, especially if it's odd or glowing."
She practically ran forward before Baela understood what she said. Like her, her grandparents walked warily forward, and she could see her grandfather all but salivate as they walked past a lot of decorations. There were wonderful paintings of scenery. She could almost see one where the sea was moving. No, it was moving. Rhaena was right, they truly had moving paintings.
Her grandfather seemed taken by some foreign sword being hung, as well as some fans that had some odd symbols on them. Her grandmother rolled her eyes and all but pushed him out, only to freeze when she saw a different painting, one of a ruined city, with rivers of molten stone going through it. For some reason, it looked familiar, but her grandmother shook her head, looking pale, and pushed them to follow Rhaena along.
They did so, but noticed that the other girl had stopped near a door. Baela walked carefully and saw Lord Harry talking to Helaena Targaryen of all people. She had never truly interacted with the older girl, but she considered her firmly as one of the Hightowers, and thus, her father's enemy, making her Baela's enemy as well.
And yet, from the few times she had seen her, the older girl seemed sad and not truly there, just playing with insects or saying nonsense. And yet, this odd girl had a wide smile on her face as she petted a white owl, and talking animatedly with the sorcerer, "So, I shouldn't care for the strands."
"No, I didn't say that. The strands are important, but where they meet is just as important. You likened it to a tapestry, and while each one is important, it is the final image that matters. You're very talented at differentiating the strands around you, but it's too much. You're not meant to pierce infinity, and believe me, possibilities are infinite. You must first find a tapestry and follow its strands, not the other way around."
Helaena nodded, as if the man's nonsense made any sense, and the man spoke up, "Oh, hello there. I'm sorry if I didn't ask before, but do you mind if Helaena joins us? She's a bit apprehensive about going back to King's Landing."
Her grandfather nods with a wide smile on his face, one that did not reach his eyes, "Of course. Who are we to decide who stays in your home? Speaking of your home, may I ask if Lady Daphne plans to join us?"
"Oh, yeah. She's checking up on dinner. We like to take turns cooking, and tonight is her turn. She wouldn't let me come to the kitchen, so I think that she has something wonderful planned for our meal."
"You cook?" the Sea Snake asked while looking flabbergasted.
Baela wasn't exactly as surprised as her grandfather. Sure, the idea of a lord cooking his own meal was beyond absurd, but the Potters were odd, and she didn't see any servants in the manse. They had to eat somehow, and they couldn't exactly make food out of thin air, could they?
"I can. I took a few cooking classes back when I was bored. It was back when Daphne focused completely on healing, so we settled down for a couple of years. I learned a lot more than I thought. Of course, Daph didn't like that I became a better cook, so she worked on it to show me up. I still think I'm better, though."
"You are not better," a voice spoke up from behind them, and they all jumped, before relaxing at the sight of Lady Daphne, who looked just as composed as every time Baela had seen her.
"I beg to differ," Lord Harry replied with a hint of teasing in his voice.
"You almost burned down the kitchen once, Harry," the golden-haired woman answered in a deadpan.
"That's not my fault. I was just seeing if cooking with Fiendfyre would affect the taste."
"You could have burned down half the city," the woman replied.
The man huffed and looked away, "You just don't understand the prince of innovation," before he turned towards them, "Oh, why don't you have a seat?"
Rhaena, who had all but run to the seat that was nearest to the sorcerer, yet Baela meekly walked as far away, as if distance would stop her guilt, somehow.
Rhaenys Velaryon spoke up first, while giving her and her sister a severe look, "First of all, my granddaughters wished to tell you something."
Rhaena jumped up and hugged the Potters, "Thank you for healing us."
Baela quickly echoed her sister's words while also curtsying. The sorcerer and her wife gave them both a kind smile, "Think nothing of it, children."
She awkwardly sat back down, trying not to think of the kind man and his wife writhing in agony beneath Moondancer's flames. This was the face of the man who had saved her life, whom she had tried to kill. That thought made her flinch, and she distracted herself by looking up and noticing that an awkward silence followed their words, even if the Potters didn't seem all that bothered by it.
Her grandfather was the one to break the silence, "I wished to ask a few questions regarding a painting near the entrance…"
"Which one?" the sorcerer asked.
"The ship…"
What ship? Baela remembered being awed at the moving paintings, but the only one that looked remotely related to a ship was the one her grandfather had stared at for some time, which was the scene of a sea with moving waves.
And yet, recognition filled Lord Harry's eyes, "Ah, yes. The Flying Dutchman. I'd see how it would make an impression on you. A very old tale that one, that of an unmanned ship whose crew perished, and that it grew conscious enough to follow them in death. I didn't even think that it was real. I saw it completely by accident, looking for the ruins of the Lost City of Atlantis. Yet, here it was, a ghost of a ship, rising from the depths of the sea. It is said that only those who have seen Death at sea could gaze upon it. I've never seen it again, not after this, but all I have is this memory that I turned into a painting. Somehow, despite it all, the magic followed the ship into the painting."
Baela shivered as the man spoke, the idea of a ghost ship not being particularly appealing, but her twin was seemingly grinning in excitement. That was different. It was usually the opposite. Baela was the bold one, while Rhaena was more cautious. How things have changed in such a little time.
She noticed that her grandfather also looked unsettled by the story, and his wife continued for his sake, "I've also noticed another curious painting of a very familiar sight."
"Oh, yes, my newest one. I thought you might recognise it."
"I was right, then. It is Valyria. I never thought I'd see what became of it. All we have are drawings from before the Doom."
"A very nasty place, really, even before the Doom."
Helaena spoke up in a distracted tone, "Trials of fire, trials of ice. Another's servant, a dragon's chains."
The older girl just hummed, as if that made any sense, and it might have, given that Lord Harry agreed with her, "Very quaintly said, Helaena."
They all deadpanned at that, and her grandmother coughed to the side, "So, you're the one who caused the second Doom."
The sorcerer shook his head, while feeling appalled, "I did not cause a second Doom. I mean, my presence there allowed it to happen, but I did not cause it. It's a completely different thing."
Lady Daphne shook his head at her husband's ridiculousness, "What he means to say is that the second Doom, as you aptly call it, was not caused directly by Harry. We fought a creature in Valyria, a vile thing. Its death is what led to the Fourteen Flames erupting once more."
The Sea Snake shook his head, "If Valyria becomes accessible once more, then you have likely spearheaded a new Century of Blood, with every Essosi city and perhaps even Westerosi House, fighting to claim a fragment of old Valyria's might."
Lord Harry shook his head at that, "It will take centuries for things to settle again. The environment is still very hostile. I don't think anyone even survived for long enough to make it to the horrors that dwelled in these ruins. They also wouldn't find much. I doubt that many things survived the second eruption, especially given that there aren't any wards this time. And even then, whatever remains will be very sparse. I got rid of the Valyrian Steel, too. So, the most they'll find is some gold, maybe a few jewels that would survive two volcanic eruptions, hardly worth fighting a war over. That's without knowing if the Greyscale outbreak would survive. From what I've seen of it, that disease was surprisingly resilient. All the more reason to visit Chroyane. I always like a mystery to solve, and this one proves to be quite an interesting one."
That statement silenced everyone. Harry Potter had all but admitted to scouring the remains of Old Valyria and returning completely unharmed, to having fought some manner of monster there, which somehow resulted in the second Doom.
The thought of it was beyond ludicrous, and if it had been anyone else, she'd have called them a mummer, but she had seen Moondancer fall asleep with one word of the sorcerer. She had never felt as helpless as she did that moment, and she had no idea what the man was capable of.
To make things worse, he had gotten rid of all of the Valyrian Steel in Valyria. That would have likely been worth more than the Seven Kingdoms put together. She still remembered her father telling her that House Lannister wished to purchase Dark Sister from him once upon a time, seeing the idea of two Valyrian Steel blades to be overmuch, even for the royal family. They had offered an extraordinary sum, one that her father considered an insult and refused.
For some reason, no one dared ask what happened in Valyria. Rhaena looked to be the only one tempted, but a glare from Grandmother silenced her. The Lady of Driftmark continued in a joking tone, "I think that Viserys would have preferred the painting over a ring, no matter what it is made of or could do."
"Perhaps, but it is not a painting that he needs," the sorcerer replied with an enigmatic smile on his face, "Immortalising memories in a painting is a very personal art. I would be very hesitant to give away something so intimate, even to a king."
"I was afraid you would have been irritated with him," Rhaenys commented.
"Whatever for?" he replied, while his wife snorted in amusement. He then rolled his eyes, "You mean for using me and Daph to intimidate everyone, so that they wouldn't protest the betrothal. I'm not particularly bothered. It wasn't like I couldn't refuse or change their minds. Still, he'll need to have more control over his house."
"He will," Grandmother promised.
This time, it was Rhaena who spoke up, "How old were you when your betrothal with Lady Daphne was announced?"
The golden-haired woman snickered, "We do things differently back home. Arranged marriages became quite unpopular in the last century or so. Harry and I just decided, after courting for a few years, to get married."
Baela stared at them. The idea of nobles marrying for love was strange. Her father had done so with Mother, but only after suffering with his useless marriage to Rhea Royce. She had grown up knowing that she would likely marry Jace or Luke, whether she wanted to or not, and she had accepted that.
Her grandparents had the same expression, but Rhaena's eyes sparkled, "It's like a song!"
The Sea Snake was quick to interfere, "Alas, that is in a different place, and the world is not a song."
"Oh, there is power in a song, far more than one would think," Lord Harry spoke, "Believe me, I would know. But that's a story for another day, I suppose. Now, Rhaena, how is Solarys? I haven't seen that dragon in some time."
What followed was Rhaena all but gushing about her dragons, how amazing his flames were, and how quickly he was growing. Her grandparents chimed in, talking about their dragons, while Lady Daphne spoke of different dragons that they encountered, including one with many heads that breathed out lightning.
Everyone seemed at ease as they chatted away, even Helaena, who spoke of her experiences with Dreamfyre with enthusiasm that Baela had never seen before. Only Baela remained silent, out of place, with every dragon reminding her of Moondancer's flames falling at the Potters' manse.
They were kind people. It was different seeing them joke around like this, even without having saved her. And yet, she tried to kill them. If they didn't have their sorcery, if they were just kind people and travellers, Baela would have killed them, all because of her rage.
The guilt was quickly becoming more unbearable by the second, and she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't sit in the home she had tried to burn and smile like everyone else had. She needed to leave.
Without saying a word to anyone, she ran out of the room, her eyes burning, and made her way out of the manse as quickly as her legs could take her. The moment she was outside, her knees grew weak, and she fell down on the sand, sobbing her heart out.
She stiffened when she felt something land on her shoulder, and her eyes widened when she saw Potter's white owl, which hooted softly near her ear. Baela muttered, "Go away!"
"That's quite rude. Hedwig was just making sure that you are alright."
Baela froze as she recognised the voice. Harry Potter was standing in front of her, with that same kind smile on his face, "It's eating you alive, huh? The guilt, the realisation of what you did, or in this case, what you almost did."
She opened her eyes to answer, but her voice would not leave her throat, and he continued, "Why don't we go take a walk? Don't worry, it'll just be the two of us. Daphne will entertain the rest of your family in the manse while we have a little talk."
Baela sniffed and stood up shakingly, "Why?"
"I've been where you are, experienced what you're feeling. I thought I might give you a little help. But first, let's go somewhere a bit less gloomy. Hmm, I do have an idea which I think will help a bit."
He snapped his finger, and butterflies appeared out of nowhere and encircled them before flying away. When they were gone, Baela realised that she wasn't in Dragonstone anymore. Instead of the volcanic island, she saw sand that was whiter than she ever thought possible and an ocean as blue as a sapphire before her.
Baela realised that she was gaping when she turned towards the sorcerer who was grinning smugly at her, "Welcome, Baela Targaryen, to the island of Naath."
[---]
AN: I had planned on making the Naath Mini-Arc later and with Helaena instead of Baela, but I decided to go through with it now, since I thought it would be a good idea to use it to help Baela's character progress a bit. This will be a bit different from previous arcs, and I'm pretty excited to show it to you. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
[---]
If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.