Pre-Chapter A/N: Here we go with another chapter, coming in right on time. Next three chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
Icarus was waiting outside my tent when I stirred for the second time today. This time, it was less that he had known what I was about to do, and more that he had been here for a while. His footprints had stamped themselves into the sand as he paced back and forth over and over again. I could hear him even while I slept as he anxiously waited for me. I knew what he wanted, after all. And I also knew that he was yet to find a good argument for me not to do it. The tunnels in the Red Mountains were their refuge when they were set upon by dragons. They were a fundamental part of Dornish security. But only against dragons.
And since this was all going to end with them bending the knee to the most powerful dragonrider in the world, what business did they have keeping such a refuge? The initial argument had been that I should not do it because there was no need. No one would willingly move the fights to those tunnels, he had said. They would very quickly become a bloodbath both for attackers and defenders, and as a ward to the former Prince of Dorne, he knew the tunnels better than any. No one would risk it.
But then the Qorgoyles had. And so that argument was smothered in its crib. Which other one would he try then?
"Lord Velaryon," he said with an inclined head. I nodded and greeted him in kind. He followed me as I went to the next tent to begin my washing and scrubbing of my teeth. Hygiene during war was not anyone's top priority, but I had my needs. And I was important enough to this campaign that Icarus would bear the burden of seeing to it that I had water for a bath, and for cleaning my mouth even as the drinking water for the masses of the army was rationed.
"The Red Mountains. Is it even possible for a dragon to, as you say, close them off? I reckon that it would be a better use of—"
"You can inspect them for yourself when I am finished. I would not say that I had done a thing without the capacity to do it, as I have no doubt you know," I said. And I had him there. That was why he had not continued the march, after all. I was sure he'd sent scouts, however. I wondered what tales they would tell when they returned.
"But even if we could succeed in that endeavour, such a destruction of Dornish heritage would only serve to harden opposition to us," he said.
"I doubt that. Hand and blade, Jordayne. Offer a blade and then offer a hand of friendship after. We showed with Dayne that there is a chance for those who bend to not be broken, and no matter what House Nymeros Martell took for their words, I know Dorne itself would sooner do the former than the latter. If the tunnels are no longer an option, then their choices are between fleeing to the open desert and dying there of thirst or of mutiny from their own people, dying in their castles as Igneel burns them to slag, or bending the knee to a fellow Dornishman. I am sure they will choose the right thing," I said, not like I cared much what they chose. Dorne would be mine whether they liked it or not. I would accomplish what generations of Targaryens before me had failed at, and what had only been accomplished in canon with a lot of blood and a marriage.
I wouldn't give Dorne a Queen. That would be foolish. I would give them hope, and a better life under me than they had had in the years before. Jordayne and Yronwood had reaped the benefits of a fractured Dorne, but we all knew that they were in the minority in that regard. Infighting, suspicion, and pettiness had taken root without the Nymeros Martells to keep everyone in line, and then over time the suffering had begun to take root.
The nobles might have misliked the thought of bending to what had once been one of their equals, but their smallfolk probably hungered for the stability. The chance to once again get water from one's neighbours without fearing the water to be poisoned. The chance to trade for food, and horses, and the things that one lacked with those who had them was going to be enough temptation to keep their worse impulses buried. And if that was not the case, then Igneel would show them that he was no Balerion when it came to size, but even the Black Dread did not have flames as hot as his. Even the Black Dread could not smite a castle with the ease that Igneel could manage. And their tunnels would be lost to them for an age after what Igneel and I did here. This war was not going according to Jordayne's plan at all, but all his misfortune was playing into my hands.
He must have begun to suspect that there was something more afoot by now. Sadly, he would never be able to find proof of that. It really was just luck in my favour. And the day would come where the same luck would smile on him. I just had to make sure he was not in the position to take advantage of it. I pulled my hair in front of me and wrung the water out of it before beginning to dry it with some focus to heat my hands and running said hands through the hair. Icarus waited on the other side of the screen now. He had not spoken since my last statement. Was he still searching for a refutation, I wondered.
"You truly will not let Dorne be free, will you?" he asked when I stepped around the screen and then began to dress. He seemed not even to notice that I was naked.
"No. I would burn Dorne to the ground myself before I stomached the thought of Dorne independent of me," I said, giving him a smile, not minding that my balls were in full view as we spoke. If he wouldn't care, then neither would I.
"Why? Why do you even want Dorne?" he asked.
"Why did Aegon want the Seven Kingdoms?" I asked him back, and he flinched at that for some reason.
"What I can assure you of is that your people will have a better future under my rule than they could hope for otherwise. What do you think an independent Dorne would look like? Do you reckon that Yronwood grows enough food in his lands to feed every man, woman and child that calls these sands home? What happens to them when this war of yours is over? What was your plan? How do you feed them after you and their lords take the young men from the farms and force them to die for your war?" I asked, and he did not answer, because I knew exactly what their plan was. They would have bought the food. They'd been stockpiling the gold for it for years now. And the Reach would never sell it to them. Braavos never had extra food to sell, and the agreements they had with House Martell would not extend to Yronwood. Not after Yronwood had chosen me in our little cold war. Whatever they planned would have needed my help.
Either they would have bought the food from me and my islands that were producing or they would have bought it from the Reach with me as a middleman or from the Free Cities with my ships guaranteeing their security as they made the journey. Dornish independence was always a lie. Dorne as a kingdom was not viable. The truth was that they always had to be someone's bitch if they wanted to do more than fuck, starve, and thirst in their deserts. If they wanted to be more than raiders little better than wildlings, then they needed someone's help. I would give it to them, but only if they abandoned the lie and submitted.
It was the wise thing to do, but the last man to count on Dornish wisdom probably ended up poisoned or something. I would force them to heel with more than logic and common sense if I had to. I hoped it wouldn't come to it, but my legions would be ready to march on this desert when the time came if the need ever arose. I would smash their fleets, burn their castles, and smite them so thoroughly that nothing would remain, and then I would take all that I needed for myself. Inefficient, wasteful, but nothing I was unwilling to do.
"Safe travels, my lord," he said, bowing his head slightly. He was calling it quits for now? I resisted the urge to chuckle. If only I couldn't smell that knot of resentment building in him. Maybe then I would have believed this.
I found Igneel waiting for me when I dressed up. He'd been enjoying the sun, if not the sand that was grating at his scales. It was plenty warm for him during the day, but at night like this, he had little to focus on other than the sand that kept being blown onto his scales, eyes, nose, and ears. I climbed into the saddle, and seconds later, we were off. The spell for seeing the hidden passageways came even easier this time. I had to cut a new wound as the old one had been mostly healed by now and opening it further would just make it likely to scar and irritate the process.
When I opened my eyes, the blood on my face began to burn against my skin and the holes in the mountain began to glow to me. Good. Igneel and I got to work plugging them all.
It was the work of hours more, but we had gotten better at it. By the time the sun began to rise, we were done. We flew around the mountains a few times to be sure we had found and plugged everything, and when we were sure, we began to leave, only for a bolt to take us by surprise, flying past Igneel's head by the slimmest of margins. Our blood boiled as we tracked where it had come from. Skyreach.
These fucking fools. Leaving them alone was too much freedom, it seemed. I considered just burning the whole castle. But there was a plan in place for House Fowler. I was already pushing Jordayne and Yronwood pretty far. Best not to ruin their war plans if I didn't need to. A second bolt came towards us, but this one we tracked all the way, and Igneel dodged it with ease. But if they were asking for it...
I guess there was nothing wrong with sending a message. Igneel roared despite the exhaustion he felt after a long night of burning. He wanted more. And thankfully, I had power of my own to spare this time. I stoked his inner fire as much as I could, and we shot for Skyreach.
It was a beautiful castle. Truly breathtaking. Another scorpion bolt came. This one, Igneel flapped his wings once to create winds that blew it far off course. They had six scorpions. And they were all manned by men who looked competent enough from up here. And in the end it meant nothing. Igneel came for them, breathing out blue flames that scarred stone where they touched it, and the scorpions and their manners stood no chance.
We burned them all, and then we breathed fire across their battlements, killing every man that manned their walls before landing with little care atop their main room. Igneel roared his dominance to the world. He dared any to come out and face him. No one was that stupid. We left Skyreach scarred but still standing.
And then we went back to the camp. It was already packed up and moving, continuing the journey to the home of House Qorgoyle. Whatever we met when we got there wouldn't matter. They'd either die in the desert, find another house to take them, or return to their home to find it already occupied, or maybe even get back before us and begin some sort of defence. It wouldn't go well, but it would be interesting to say the least.
----
It took us three more days to reach the castle, and by the time there was an army outside their gates, House Qorgoyle had made their decision. I had seen their caravans returning in the days since, but was unsure what they would choose. Lord Horen Qorgoyle and his wife, the Lady Jenna, waited outside the castle with their children under a white flag. Icarus took their oaths of fealty on behalf of Yronwood. Speaking of Yronwood, a raven was sent from Sandstone to inform him of the progress.
He would stir now and move for Skyreach, Kingsgrave and Wyl. He would be in charge of bringing his closest neighbours to heel while the rest of the army under Jordayne would continue deeper into the desert. The other castles and houses on our way would be our duty to take care of. It was far from an even split. Yronwood would show that he had some military chops, but Jordayne would be the one actually conquering his kingdom for him. It spoke a lot of the trust that the two men had for each other. I couldn't imagine Aegon, even for all the love he had for Orys, ever having him doing the work of actually conquering Westeros while he spent his time dealing with the crownlands. The risk that he would just start taking the oaths in his own name was too significant to just ignore.
But that fear did not seem to affect these two men. I couldn't imagine the Dornish lords would not whisper about this for decades, but whether the whispers stiffened their knees and backs when called upon was not yet clear to see. Qorgoyle's knee had bent for the time being, but no one was stupid enough to think that that would last for long without some sort of guarantee. Icarus had accepted his fealty and then decreed that he would be taking his son and heir for a squire. A hostage for his father's good behaviour, and his daughter would be wedded off at Lord Yronwood's discretion. Horen Qorgoyle had accepted the terms through gritted teeth, staring at Igneel all the while. So when the highest-ranking members of the army moved to take residence inside Sandstone, I didn't risk it. I slept against Igneel's wing for the two nights that the army spent in Sandstone.
Icarus felt like it was unnecessary paranoia, but I knew what these people could do if given the chance. There were no assassination attempts at least, but I didn't know whether that was because of my caution in sleeping next to my dragon or because they had never planned one. Either way, I ended the days alive and that was all. Aurion had taught me spells for dealing with poisons and things like that, but the chance that Qorgoyle men could just turn crossbows upon me when poison failed was too high for me to risk it. Igneel would tear the castle apart to reach me, but while I bordered on superhuman, I would also die to a falling castle just as easily as everyone else. The math wouldn't work out in my favour sadly.
From Sandstone, the next goal was Hellholt, and being honest, I wanted to raze it to the ground and not even settle for any sort of negotiation. House Uller had gotten lucky in killing Rhaenys and they had built a legend for themselves on the back of that bit of luck. I wanted to burn the castle, salt the earth, and end the line for the audacity.
Thankfully, they seemed to be in agreement with me. Their men harried our march here day and night. Round-the-clock sentries had to be posted. No one had a night of good sleep, but the lessons learned from the march to Sandstone had stuck, and the attacks ended up only achieving the goal of keeping us from sleeping. Water, food, horses, all these they tried to attack and all these they were repelled from. The army moved faster than a regular one would have for the lack of siege engines. That was the role Igneel would serve in this war. And Uller knew it.
He waited for us in his castle. His gates were barred, and there were scorpions on virtually every visible bit of the walls. I wondered how they were funding all this. Starfall, Skyreach, and now Hellholt. Dorne was too poor, especially after all the warring that took place when I smote the Martells, for these lords to be able to just build all this. Not like scorpions were all that expensive to construct, but so many? And the castle had been rebuilt as well.
It stood strong against the world without.
"House Uller received all the gold they could have wanted from House Martell to rebuild when the war was over. They were the first of the houses to get their castle back. And in that castle are bones they claim belong to Rhaenys, displayed in their dining hall while they have Meraxes' bones in their throne room", Icarus said to me when I asked why the castle looked so solid even after Aegon and Visenya burned it multiple times. I knew why he said it. He probably thought he was goading me into pitting my dragon against the famed dragon-killing castle. Part of him might even hope it did me in. It would fuck up his war plans a fair bit, but that illogical hunger for Dornish independence burned within him.
If only he knew there was no goading needed. Because this castle? I'd burn this fucking castle to the ground for free seven days a week and twice on Sundays.
A/N: Hellholt is a bitch of a castle, and Laenor is going to put his foot through it even if it kills him (will it, though?). Next chapter comes on here by Wednesday night. Next three chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), you can support me there and read them early.