2nd Month of 235 A.C. Tyrosh
Tyrosh, a glistening cesspool of intrigue, defiance and lust. His family's home since their exile from Westeros by the line of the Falseborn some forty years ago, after his namesake and grandsire Daemon Blackfyre had died on the Redgrass Field. Daemon, son of Aenys Blackfyre, who himself had been the fifth of Daemon Blackfyre's seven sons, had known no other home other than Tyrosh and the manse that he and his family spent time in. Born in the 212th year after Aegon the Conqueror's conquest of Westeros, Daemon had spent his time in Tyrosh and in the army camps of the Golden Company, fighting his first battle at the age of fourteen as a squire to his uncle Maegor. He was knighted at sixteen by Ser Aegor Rivers and from there his life had been that of a soldier. He knew the hatred of the Falseborn as well as any of his other cousins, but he also knew what it was to be lost and scared, and as such he could sympathise with those of his cousins who never wished to fight at all.
Now though, now he was here with his cousin and King Daemon, and his uncle Aegor Rivers otherwise known as Bittersteel, to attend the Archon of Tyrosh's ball. The Archon was a cousin to Daemon and as such they had been invited here as a courtesy and also so that the Archon could try and convince them to fight alongside him against Lys and Myr those old enemies. Before they had entered the mansion Daemon had some choice words for both his uncle and his king. "Now remember, we are here as guests. There can be no barbs and there can be no japes made at cousin Aerion's expense. It has to be all high brow conversation. That means no talk of war or women unless prompted do you understand Daemon?" His cousin nodded and Daemon smiled slightly and then they moved in where their cousin Archon Aerion Maegyr greeted them.
"Ah Your Grace, Prince Daemon, Ser Aegor. How nice to see you. So glad that you could come. We have much to offer you in the ways of entertainment and other such pleasures if you would like to follow me." Aerion said.
Their cousin nattered away for some time about this and that before introducing them to officials from the court of Tyrosh. One man stood out, Varys his name was he spoke with a slippery changeable accent. "Ah how nice to finally meet the famous Blackfyres! Aerion has been speaking about you all nonstop and how you will bring Tyrosh great fame and fortune against Lys and Myr! I trust that the ball has been to your liking and there are not too many extravagances. My wife did have a hand in organising it all, seeing as Aerion is not such a strong hand at it himself!"
Aerion chuckled at that and said. "Oh Varys shush you will embarrass me in front of my guests here. Well I guess I shall leave you all to talk, apart from you, Your Grace, there is someone you just have to meet."
Daemon nodded and looked back at Varys and then asked him. "So what was it you said you do for Aerion?"
"I did not. But since you have asked, I am the man who manages the finances for the Archon. Making sure that not too much money is spent and that not too much money is hoarded away never to see the light of day. That is why this venture against Lys and Myr is crucial to our coffers, a good war and the taking of some trade rights will do us the world of good." Varys said.
"And I suppose you believe that the Golden Company fighting in this war, when it would do us just as good to take advantage of the turmoil in Westeros, will do us better? Where is the logic in that my good Varys?" Ser Aegor asks.
Daemon is about to reply when he hears his cousin whisper. "Aerion wants to see you. There is someone he wants you to meet. A lady called Vaella."
The name draws some form of recognition from Daemon though he does not know where from. He merely nods, turns and walks to where he sees Aerion standing, next to a lady with silvery hair, and the most hauntingly beautiful violet eyes he has ever seen. "Ah cousin, good for you to come. I hope Varys did not bore you overtly much with figures and stats, he is a very good coin counter, but when it comes to conversation he can be quite bland."
Daemon stares at the woman before him barely registering his cousin's words. Aerion on noticing this laughs and says. "Begging your pardon my lady, but I seem to have forgotten my manners. Daemon, this is Vaella, Vaella Targaryen. Vaella, my cousin Daemon Blackfyre."
Daemon expects to see tendrils of hate creep into her eyes at his name, just as he feels some sort of anger at her name. But she does not look angry, she merely smiles and sticks her hand out. "A pleasure to meet you Daemon. I hope you are as courtly as your grandsire was said to be."
Aerion laughs at that and says. "She has a bite to her this one. Now I shall leave you two talk and discuss whatever it is royals discuss."
Once Aerion leaves, Daemon looks at Vaella, and once again is taken away by her beauty. "So my lady, or should that be princess? What has brought you to Tyrosh? I would have thought you to be at King's Landing serving with your cousins and other such people."
Princess Vaella laughs daintily and says. "I am no princess Ser. I am merely a lady here. My cousin Rhaelle is the princess as is her sister Shaera. I am merely a drunkard's daughter and the daughter of Kiera, the daughter of your own cousin's aunt. So in a way we are related twice over. But you asked me a question and so I shall answer it, when my uncle Aegon was named king, my mother and I came back to her home, she thought it would serve us best to do so."
Daemon nods intrigued. "And what have you made of Tyrosh so far then my lady?"
Vaella thinks for a moment before saying. "It is nice, a nice breath of a fresh air away from King's Landing and from Lorath and Norvos where we were before we finally came here. I like the quite moments and the peace and serenity that this allows me to have."
"And what of your mother, where is she? Did she not think to accompany you here?" Daemon asks.
At this Lady Vaella's face falls somewhat and she says. "My mother died two moons ago my prince. She fell ill from a sickness on the ship that took us here, and she died in my uncle's arms."
Daemon curses himself for his blunder, his cousin would not say something of the sort, and so he hastily says. "I am so very sorry for your loss my lady. Would you like to take a walk of the mansion? The ball I have found is getting quite stifling."
She hesitates for a moment before responding. "Of course." And so they walk from the hall where the ball is being held, away from the music and the revelry, and walk out into the grounds where it is all quiet and peaceful. Once they are walking towards the fountain, Vaella speaks again. "Have you been here before my prince?"
"Please if I am to call you Vaella, you have to call me Daemon. It is my name after all." Daemon says. When she smiles and says alright, he goes on. "I have been to the Archon's mansion four times before this one. Once was when I was but a little boy, my father and mother brought me here to get the blessing of the Septon who was here officiating some ceremony or the other. The other times I have been here, have all been for business."
"Business?" Vaella asks. "Do you serve in the Golden Company as well then?"
Daemon nods and says. "Aye as commander of the men at arms and their trainer. It is my responsibility to ensure that our men are combat ready. For battle is never too far away. What have you been doing here, since you arrived then my lady?"
"I have been helping my uncle sort through certain things in his estate and managing his household. There are things that men of power just cannot seem to wrap their heads around, that I find astounding." Vaella says.
Daemon is about to ask her what she means when a guard approaches and says that he is wanted in his cousin's solar. He sees Vaella back to her companions before kissing her hand and walking to the solar. When he gets there he can tell there has already been an argument, if the way Daemon is drawn taught as a bowstring is any indication. "I was summoned?" Daemon enquires.
Aerion speaks then. "Ah Daemon, thank goodness you are here! Perhaps you can speak some sense into these idiots here. Explain to them the benefits of fighting for me against Lys and Myr and those blasted other sellsword companies."
Daemon hesitates looking at his king and his great uncle and then says softly. "It does make sense. We are need of the coin, if we hope to invade Westeros anytime soon. We shall need the coin such a venture will bring us, in order to bribe officials and pay for our men and for food."
His king speaks then his tone clouded in rage. "Aye, but we have just come back from a harrowing victory against the Dothraki. We cannot afford to send the men off to war once more, and then hope that in a few months they will be willing to fight in Westeros."
Daemon speaks once more. "That fight was three years ago cousin. And still some of the men are new recruits, green boys with no experience of war. We must have them ready for the invasion. Training will only do them so much good. True battle will do them all the better."
Bittersteel speaks then. "And what if we lose more men then is acceptable for an invasion of Westeros? How do we know that this is not some plot, that the Archon and his family came up with alongside the Targaryens to rid themselves of us and ours?"
Daemon sighs in frustration. "That was over two decades ago uncle! Valarr Targaryen is dead, Daeron Targaryen is dead. His daughter resides here in Tyrosh, here for the taking. We must needs only take what she offers and use it. Daemon I know cannot be wed to someone else for there are the Peakes to think of, but I am free and am willing to court her."
The king speaks then. "I will not have you wed that simple minded fool. No if there is anyone who must needs be wed, it is Shaera Targaryen, we must find a way to get her here and wed her to myself. The Peakes can be pacified. Now Archon, what promises can you give that you will not betray us?"
Aerion looked truly nervous, as he should be. "I can tell you this, since Kiera, left Westeros the Targaryens have stopped being so friendly towards me and mine. They believe I want you on the throne and as such have stopped giving us trade and supplies. I promise you this, I will do all I can to see you on the throne Daemon. Just help me this once, and the might of Tyrosh will be yours once more."
Daemon looks at his king, and after a moment the King says one word that will decide their fate for some moons to come. "Very well. We are yours to command Archon."