Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire and related media, it belongs to G.R.R. Martin.

Dragons of the Sunset

Prologue

Ten years ago, the Dragonlady Daenys Targaryen had a dream.

She dreamed of Valyria, of the topless towers rising to the azure heavens, dragons soaring in the sky, magic unfolding with limitless potential, of smiths and craftsmen forging items from metal, gems, dragonbone and wood beyond compare. She dreamed of Valyria the Eternal, with its mighty dragons and great armies, its proud lords and citizens, its beautiful cities and monuments.

She dreamed it all come to an end.

She dreamed of fire, raining down from the heavens with dragonglass and ash, towers falling and cities burning, of dragons and men falling to the cackling of demons and the groan of the earth being rent asunder.

Her father the Dragonlord Aenar Targaryen the Lord Freeholder of House Targaryen had taken heed of his daughter's prophecy. He took his family, their dragons, their wealth and all their possessions west, to a lonely volcanic island in Blackwater Bay which lay to the east of the Sunset Kingdoms. There he took up residence in a mighty castle of fire-forged, seamless rock, the new home and stronghold of his family: Dragonstone.

In one world, Aenar Targaryen had sought to convince his fellow dragonlords of the truth behind his daughter's prophecies, and was mocked and laughed at as he left Valyria, House Targaryen scorned as cowards fleeing from a dream, their status in the homeland and the senate in ruins. And twelve years later, in their lonely exile, they would prove to be the only survivors when doom came to Valyria.

But this is not that world.

This is a world where Aenar Targaryen disguised his withdrawal to the frontier as a show of graceful concession to recent Targaryen reversals in the power-politics of the Valyrian Senate – for thousands of years law and custom forbade direct confrontations between dragonlords due to the potential for destruction such a confrontation would wreak on the Freehold – by taking up the post of Praetor of the Western Frontier, and his relocation to Dragonstone as a means to demonstrate his commitment to the task. His fellow dragonlords lauded this show of grace, and ensured that House Targaryen would continue to be considered worthy of their station.

This was demonstrated when Aenar Targaryen perished six years into his new post from an accident, with allies and enemies alike sending condolences to his son and successor to the position of Lord Freeholder of House Targaryen and Praetor of the Western Frontier, Gaemon Targaryen.

Gaemon Targaryen despite his grief over his father's passing decided to use this chance to simultaneously improve his family's standing while discreetly ensuring – in case his sister-wife's prophecy came to pass – that Valyria and its people would survive, and in time reclaim lost glory. To that end he'd discreetly opened negotiations with the militarist faction in the senate, and considering that in addition to Dragonstone the Freehold already had ships based on Driftmark and at Claw Isle – also under Targaryen control – with which to control the Narrow Sea, it didn't take long for them to be convinced of Dragonstone and its surrounding islands' ideal position as a staging point for an invasion of the Sunset Kingdoms.

Getting a majority in the senate was considerably more difficult, and entailed much compromise before the senate voted for funds and to ratify the consuls' proclamation of a war of conquest against the Sunset Kingdoms. Along with the position of imperator for the campaign, Gaemon had been granted official permission to establish a Valyrian colony from which to govern the New Territories, with House Targaryen having hereditary pro-consular authority over the prospective colony until and if the senate deemed it appropriate to grant a free charter.

This was a grand opportunity for House Targaryen…and a double-edged blade. Success would catapult them higher among their forty fellow dragonlord families, but failure would be completely on Gaemon's head, and the shame would take centuries to be expunged from the family.

The risks were big…but the rewards were just as great: a chance for Gaemon to advance his family's fortunes, and ensure the future of their people in case the worst happened.


Dragonlady Renaera Tareris stood silent in her armour and battle attire as she watched and listened as Lord Freeholder Gaemon Targaryen laid out his plan for the assembled dragonlords or rather dragonriders in Dragonstone's Chamber of the Painted Table. Including her and the Lord Freeholder, there were about eighty of them in the room at least one from each of the forty dragonlord families: second sons, scions of cadet lines, and troublesome warrior daughters who had yet to be or could not be married off.

All of them were in armour and battle attire, though a few wore armour and attire usually used by common legionaries…honorary dragonlords – citizens who by luck or some miracle had succeeded in surviving an encounter with and taming a wild dragon – no doubt.

"With respect Lord Freeholder…" one of the other dragonlords spoke up after Gaemon had finished speaking. "…if we're committing ourselves to bringing low the Storm King, why do we stop at the southern border of the King of the Isles and Rivers? I understand that with our current forces…"

"A hundred thousand men…" Renaera thought. "…fifty thousand legionaries, thirty thousand on foot and twenty thousand on horse, and another fifty thousand Essosi auxiliaries on foot and horse, along with siege units. We'll also have sorcerers, engineers, and architects, though the latter two won't be sent to the frontlines, instead they'll be put to work on the new colony."

"…an invasion of Dorne, the Reach, and the Kingdom of the Rock would be foolhardy to say nothing of the North, but I daresay we could take the Vale of Arryn and the Riverlands with little difficulty."

There were nods and murmurs at that, including Gaemon. "Yes we could." He agreed. "The problem would be holding the territory we take. In the Riverlands we simply don't have enough men to garrison every town and village we take, unless we want to burn and enslave everyone we come across, and that would leave us with empty land of no use: it takes time and money to move settlers across the sea. Apart from all that wasted land occupied for no gain, we'd also stretch our forces thin, leaving us vulnerable to internal revolt and external threats from elsewhere. Even our dragons can't be everywhere at once."

Gaemon indicated the map. "And even if we take the Riverlands…" he said. "…the Iron Islands beyond would be beyond the reach of our fleet, at least in the short-term. And the Vale of Arryn presents its own difficulties. The Valemen would simply melt into the mountains and bleed our forces white as we try and root them out."

"We could just burn the Vale to the ground…" one dragonlord put in, but was interrupted by another.

"And leaving the Freehold with empty land useless until we can move settlers in." he said. "And the Vale has a similar climate to the North. Not as cold…but still cold and unappealing. Most settlers would prefer the lush lands to the south, in the New Territories and the Stormlands."

"Quite…" Gaemon agreed. "…and that is precisely what we are going for. If we secure the goals I've set out, then within a generation we will have a foothold from which we can slowly but steadily advance further into the Sunset Kingdoms. With exceptions of course…the North as I've already stated is no good to us. The weather is terrible, and rooting the locals out close to impossible given the sheer size of the North. Therefore I say: let the Northmen keep their frozen lands, so long as they stay out of our way."

Gaemon gestured at the rest of the map. "There's plenty of lands outside of the North." He said. "Even with the third of the New Territories and the Stormlands that would be due to us and our soldiers, there will plenty of land – and slaves – to whet the appetites of the people home. At the latest I see the next campaign into the Sunset Kingdoms taking placing within a century. And at the soonest, a decade..."

Gaemon trailed off with a smile, a smile shared by his fellow dragonlords. That was why they were here after all: to add glory to their names, properties of their own, prestige for their families, and to advance their standing within their own families, all things that would not be possible had they stayed in the homeland.

And none had greater to gain than House Targaryen. A successful campaign and founding of a new colony would elevate them from the low-ten dragonlord families to the mid-twenty, similar to the dragonlord families which had founded and still wielded great influence over the Free Cities of the Essosi Territories.

His briefing at an end, Gaemon turned to his son Aegon to begin a hushed discussion and joined by a few older dragonlords and the legates of the legions and the fleet taking part in the campaign. Renaera looked around her, the dragonlords and dragonladies excitedly discussing future prospects among each other, and then made her way to an uncomfortable-looking young man in a legionary's uniform and armour.

"Hello there. You're an honorary dragonlord aren't you?" She said with a smile and he glanced sharply at her. "My name's Renaera Tareris. What's yours?"

"I…my apologies my lady, my name is Aenyx and…well…as you probably know I don't really have a noble name yet."

Renaera laughed but not unkindly, and held out a hand which Aenyx hesitantly took and shook. "Oh enough with the formality…" she said. "…apart from the fact that my family's just a cadet line, there's also the fact that I'm just a dragonrider with no prospect of marriage back home. I imagine it's the same for you, isn't it?"

"Well…yes…that's right Lady Renaera."

Honorary dragonlords were the only socially-acceptable source of fresh blood for the dragonlord families at least once it was proven that their dragons truly were wild and not simply a runaway.

"So how'd you meet and tame your dragon?"

Aenyx shrugged, relaxing as the topic turned elsewhere from ambitions and social background. "My father served in the army in his youth." He said. "We came from a village along the east coast of the homeland, so instead of a plot of land to till he got a fishing boat instead when he retired."

Renaera nodded in understanding, that much was usual for retired veterans.

"Anyway there was this cove some way up the coast, where I and my siblings liked to play at." Aenyx continued. "One day this dragon just limps its way down from the sky, and…well it was wild considering all the snapping and warning blasts it kept sending our way. Otherwise it might have been wary but not that wary, seeing us as a possible way for help."

"And you still came closer…? That's rather brave of you."

"Not really…" Aenyx said with a slightly-embarrassed smile. "…I just…I just felt sorry you know. The wounds weren't that bad, they were already clotting when the dragon got there, but still…anyway I brought food for it, my father said it might placate the dragon until it could fly away but…"

"Let me guess: it stuck around."

Aenyx nodded. "Eventually word got out and a group of men arrived to see if it really was a wild dragon." he said. "Seafyre wouldn't let them come close at first until I managed to convince him to calm down, and eventually the men confirmed that it really was a wild dragon. Didn't take long before I got a certification for honorary dragonlord after that…"

Renaera nodded. "I'm surprised your Lord Freeholder didn't decide to have you stick around." She said. "People like you don't exactly grow on trees."

"Unfortunately Lord Caentalos didn't have any female relatives to spare at the time…" Aenyx said. "…and it's not like I could just marry into his family's main branch. The Caentalos are after all cadets of one of the high-ten."

"And he didn't want to simply give you up to a rival cadet line or to another clan…"

Aenyx nodded in his turn. "After that though word got out about Lord Targaryen's expedition to the west, and I decided that here was chance to be more than just 'fresh blood'. No offence Lady Renaera."

"None taken…" she said while looking around them. "…it's not like I've got dissimilar goals myself. Without any men in my clan close to me in age, it's not like I have much prospects beyond getting married off for a political alliance. This way I can be more than that, and prove it to the Lord Freeholders in my clan too."

Aenyx smiled and made to speak but fell silent as Gaemon held a hand up for silence. "Legate Velaryon informs me that the winds and waves are favourable." He said. "Therefore the fleet will set sail in time for us to land by dawn tomorrow. Our forces have already begun embarking, and so I would suggest that we prepare for departure."

Gaemon paused, and then slowly swept his eyes over his fellow dragonlords and dragonladies. He paused briefly at each of the honorary ones – there were three of them, two men and one woman – but smiled as none of them flinched. "This will be our moment my friends." He said. "May the Fourteen be with us all: all praises."

"All praises…!"


A/N

My interpretation of Valyria is based on the Roman Republic, which isn't that far-fetched seeing that much like Valyria all landowners technically had a say in the governance of the republic, but was ultimately dominated by the patrician families. Same with Valyria: all Freeholders technically have a say in Valyrian politics, but in practice only the forty dragonlord families/clans (including their cadet lines) dominate Valyrian politics.

One more thing before I come to an end: in canon the maesters and the septons claim the Valyrians had hundreds of gods, but what do they know? Have they actually spoken to a Valyrian much less visited Valyria? Here the Valyrians have fourteen gods, one for each of the Fourteen Flames (volcanoes) of their homeland.