ASOIAF: The True House of Dragons

The heir prince of Winterfell, Torrhen, walked side by side with Aegon, his expression grave as he spoke of the challenges ahead.

"White Harbor is a vital trade hub for the Kingdom of Winterfell. Most of our goods—furs, herbs, and the like—are exported from there, and we also rely on it to import large quantities of grain each season.

It's already the second autumn. Winter is surely not far off.

Brother Aegon, winter is coming!"

The moment Aegon heard Torrhen, a Stark, utter those iconic words, a flood of memories surged within him. The silver dragon mark on his forehead began to warm faintly. He knew the "Apocalypse Dreamtrace" had come again.

This time, there was no physical discomfort—just a vivid vision in his mind.

[In the vision, at the confluence of three differently colored rivers, Torrhen, clad in royal robes and wearing a crown, knelt before Aegon's adult self. He then removed the ancient crown of Winterfell and placed it carefully at Aegon's feet...]

Aegon hadn't expected Torrhen, the heir of Winterfell, to play such a pivotal role in the coming War of Conquest. He gave the straightforward Torrhen a long look, pondering whether it was time to win him over.

"Aegon, are you listening?" Torrhen, noticing his silence, quickly asked.

"Yeah... I'm listening." Aegon smiled. "Where were you?"

Torrhen let out a heavy breath but repeated himself patiently.

"Winter is nearly here, and we desperately need grain. The Kingdom of Winterfell has joined your war because we hope to secure enough supplies to help our people survive the cold."

Aegon gave a slight nod and looked at him.

"And how would you like us Targaryens to help?"

Torrhen's expression turned solemn. He looked Aegon in the eye and said in a deep voice,

"In the war against House Valentine, all military merits earned by Northern warriors will be exchanged for grain.

And the Kingdom of Winterfell hopes that, for the rest of this autumn, the Targaryens will waive the sea tax on grain ships bound for White Harbor."

Aegon was silent for a moment. Meeting Torrhen's gaze, he said slowly,

"You know as well as I do—it's no easy task to distinguish grain ships from other merchant vessels. Cunning traders will always find ways to disguise their ships to avoid the tax.

Besides, with all six kingdoms united, we already vastly outmatch House Valentine in military power. We're not urgently reliant on reinforcements from the other realms."

The Narrow Sea was perpetually battered by storms. Trade between Westeros and the Disputed Lands beyond the sea rarely crossed directly. Instead, ships usually hugged the coastline to the Stepstones before attempting the crossing.

Dragonstone and the Stormlands, as powerful forces along that route, imposed steep sea taxes on passing merchants. This allowed them to suppress purchase prices at White Harbor—the kingdom's largest port—while driving selling prices unreasonably high.

Torrhen tensed upon hearing Aegon's reply and spoke urgently,

"I've brought with me a thousand of the North's finest—battle-hardened veterans who've shed blood fighting wildlings beyond the Wall. They'll be a great help to your campaign."

Seeing Torrhen getting anxious, Aegon patted him lightly on the shoulder to calm him. Then, he simply pulled Torrhen into a one-armed hug and said with a grin,

"Listen, Torrhen.

Honestly, even if you brought a few thousand more Northern warriors, it wouldn't do much to solve Winterfell's urgent food shortage.

But still—

I, Aegon, admire a man as forthright as you.

As heir to House Targaryen, the Dragonlord and dragonrider of this era, I'd like to call you my friend. The food crisis in your kingdom—I'll help you resolve it."

Torrhen was overjoyed by Aegon's generous words. He laughed loudly, throwing an arm around Aegon's shoulders like a brother.

"Aegon, I knew the moment I met you—you're someone I can count on. The Kingdom of Winterfell won't forget what you've done for us, ha!"

Aegon smiled in return and gave Torrhen's shoulder another firm pat, his tone now solemn.

"My help—trading merit for grain and waiving the sea tax—it has nothing to do with the Kingdom of Winterfell.

Truly, it doesn't."

Torrhen's smile faded slightly. He looked at Aegon curiously.

"Then...?"

Aegon met his gaze, firm and steady.

"It's you, Torrhen. I'm doing this for you. I just want us to be close friends. I hope this war with House Valentine brings our bond even closer."

Torrhen's smile faltered as he mulled it over. Was Aegon really helping Winterfell just to become his close friend?

He was a bold man, not a fool. Aegon clearly had an agenda—there was no other way to explain such a generous gesture toward someone he'd only just met.

Still, Torrhen's straightforward nature kept him from overthinking it.

If Aegon truly wished to be his friend, then Torrhen would treat him as a brother. But if Aegon meant harm, then the steel sword at his side was no tool for slicing bread.

There was a saying in the North: don't listen to what a man says—watch what he does.

That night, Aegon hosted a small banquet at Dragonstone to welcome Torrhen, inviting Orys to join them. The three young men drank and laughed long into the night.

...

All the key lords and rulers of the Six Kingdoms had gathered, and most of the delegations from Westeros who had come to observe the proceedings had also arrived.

The venue for the Alliance Assembly was set in the main hall of Dragonstone Castle. In the center of the hall lay a long table, surrounded by all manner of chairs arranged in a circle.

Aerion, head of House Targaryen, sat upright in the seat of honor, with an additional chair placed beside him for Aegon.

The "Six Kingdoms" referred to the five Free Cities and the Stormlands.

The senior officials from each realm took their seats one after another, positioned among the guests in the hall. Argilac, King of the Stormlands, was seated at the first position to the right of the seat of honor, a placement reflecting due respect for his royal status.

Aerion slowly rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping across the room as he spoke in a low, commanding voice:

"The wicked Kingdom of Volantis has unjustly invaded its peaceful neighbors, behaving like demons—seizing the Stepstones and looting merchant ships in the Narrow Sea like common pirates. Their atrocities are intolerable.

I hereby declare the official opening of the Alliance Conference between the Seven Kingdoms of Eastern Essos and Westeros.

Today, we are gathered to discuss and draft concrete measures for a punitive war against the wicked Kingdom of Volantis.

This is not only a matter of upholding justice—it concerns the future and peace of each of our nations.

The first item on the agenda: the interests of the allied realms.

As senior envoys of your respective nations, you carry the weighty duty of conveying your monarchs' will. Speak freely—state your sovereigns' needs. Once all claims have been debated and confirmed, they will be written into the Alliance Treaty to ensure the sacred interests of each nation are fully protected."

As Aerion's voice fell silent, a brief hush spread through the hall. Then, murmurs and whispers broke out, and the room gradually grew more animated.

The representative from Tyrosh was the first to rise. After a slight bow to the assembly, he said, "On behalf of the Archon of Tyrosh, our king wishes to gain control over some of Volantis' trade routes in the Narrow Sea as a result of this war…"

Not to be outdone, the envoy from Pentos stood as well. He adjusted his robes, swept his eyes across the hall, and said, "…We also hope that after the war, new trade regulations will be drafted jointly with the allied nations to prevent another hegemonic threat like Volantis, and to ensure fair trade for all."

King Argilac of the Stormlands remained seated, his gaze stern as he addressed the hall slowly:

"As a key member of the Seven Kingdoms Alliance, the Storm Kingdom will commit its full strength to this war.

Our demands are clear. Volantis must pay dearly for its actions.

First, Volantis must pay substantial war reparations.

Second, we expect to claim part of Volantis' territory in eastern Essos after the war, and Volantis must offer tribute to the Storm Kingdom to compensate for our wartime losses."

...

Aegon stood silently at Aerion's side, occasionally handing over important maps or scrolls, occasionally leaning in to whisper quietly to his father.

During this time, House Targaryen and the Storm Kingdom engaged in heated negotiations over control of the Stepstones.

The Stepstones were of vital strategic importance—whoever held them controlled the throat connecting Westeros to the Free Cities. The power of customs control, along with the massive benefits and military leverage it brought, spoke for itself.

The dispute raged on for quite some time.

"Whoever takes Ross Island first will control the Stepstones. Agreed?" Aegon said firmly, locking eyes with the Storm King.

Argilac furrowed his brow slightly, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But after carefully weighing the pros and cons, he finally gave a slow nod.

"Very well. It's a deal."

Behind the Storm King stood a personal guard, straight as a drawn sword. Her finely crafted helmet fit perfectly over her head, revealing only a pair of piercing blue eyes. In that moment, her gaze was locked on Aegon, who was shining at the assembly and stealing the spotlight. Her eyes sparkled with interest.

After prolonged debate, all major disputes were gradually resolved.

Following Aegon's suggestion to Aerion, the demands of the Winter Kingdom were smoothly written into the treaty.

The Storm Kingdom also secured an enclave within Volantis' current territory—proof of Argilac's considerable ambition.

With most demands now settled, the heavy atmosphere in the hall eased slightly.

The focus then turned to the assembly and deployment of the coalition forces.

After careful planning and tactical discussion, the Seven Kingdoms agreed to gather their armies in the Free City of Tyrosh.

House Targaryen and the Storm Kingdom would lead as the vanguard, launching the first strike against Ross Island. As the key to the Stepstones, Ross Island held immense strategic value in the Narrow Sea. Capturing it would lay a solid foundation for the rest of the war.

Once the Stepstones were secured, the allied forces would advance together toward Volantis proper and begin a full-scale siege.

With all matters concluded, the senior envoys stood, and the alliance treaties were laid out for all to see. Each representative, solemn and composed, picked up a pen and signed their name.

As the final signature was placed, the hall erupted into warm applause.

With the alliance terms and military strategy fully agreed upon, Aerion hosted a celebratory banquet immediately after the meeting. The following day, the envoys would depart for their homelands to begin assembling their armies in Tyrosh.

...

Late at night, a thick curtain of darkness enveloped Dragonstone Castle.

Only a few lights from the Flaming Dragon Tower flickered stubbornly in the gloom, like scattered stars fallen to earth.

Inside a guest room of the Flaming Dragon Tower...

King Argilac of the Stormlands stood alone by the window, his thoughts seemingly far away.

Just then, the door creaked open softly, and his personal guard stepped in with light, soundless steps. She slowly removed her helmet, letting a cascade of glossy black hair spill down like a waterfall. Her striking, spirited features were revealed in full—she was Princess Argella of the Storm Kingdom, Argilac's only child.

Argilac looked at his daughter and sighed helplessly.

"You girl... why aren't you resting?"

Princess Argella stepped beside her father and stood close, gazing out the window with a stubborn smile tugging at her lips.

"Father, have you forgotten why I came here?"

Argilac's brow furrowed slightly.

"How could I not know? You insisted on seeing that Aegon boy with your own eyes before you'd even consider the marriage alliance. Well, you've seen him now. What do you think?"

Princess Argella tilted her head, her eyes sparkling as she looked into the night. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and the corners of her lips curved upward.

"Father, I saw everything Prince Aegon did today at the assembly. He spoke sharply and held himself with such composure—truly a remarkable man."

Argilac nodded slowly.

"Yes. Aegon is certainly among the finest of his generation. There's no one more fitting to inherit the Targaryen legacy.

I intend to offer your hand to him. Tell me—would you be willing?"

Princess Argella lowered her head shyly and spoke in a soft voice.

"Father... of course I would. But I don't know how Prince Aegon sees me."

Argilac gently patted her shoulder.

"Argella, don't worry. You're exceptional—Aegon will surely be drawn to you.

Since I've given my word, I'll see that he becomes your husband. Once I take the Stepstones and offer them as your dowry, there's no way the Targaryens won't be moved."

Argella looked up, eyes full of emotion.

"Father, you're so good to me. I believe in you. But... the Stepstones are easy to defend and hard to take... and there's that bet you made with the Targaryens..."

Argilac smiled with quiet confidence and interrupted her.

"In fact, before we even came to Dragonstone, the kingdom had already dispatched our navy toward the Stepstones. If I've timed it right, they should be nearing Ross Island as we speak.

Once the alliance treaty is signed today, I'll send out the ravens—our admiral has orders to launch a full assault on Ross Island. Don't worry, your dowry isn't going anywhere! Haha!"

He reached out and fondly ruffled her hair.

Argella nodded sweetly.

"Father, you really are the best. If Aegon truly becomes my husband, I'll make sure he sides with the kingdom—and helps you eliminate 'Black-hearted Harren,' once and for all."

Argilac smiled with satisfaction.

"Good. That's my daughter.

Once this war is over, you and Aegon will be wed—and by then, the Storm Kingdom and House Targaryen will be more tightly bound than ever."

He turned his eyes back to the night beyond the window, murmuring to himself.

"Let's hope everything goes as we've planned.

Aegon... don't disappoint me. And more importantly—don't let Argella down."

Princess Argella gently took his arm.

"Father, no matter what happens, I'll always stay by your side."