Daenerys was delighted with the dragon eggs.

In the afternoon, once everyone had gotten their rest from such an early morning, they convened in the courtyard, the Valkyries standing guard as Oberyn revealed to the children what he'd brought with him, the large chest enough to elicit a squeal from Daenerys.

"They're so..." Viserys could not find the words to describe them, once he was staring down at the three eggs. "They're practically fossilized. This might not work."

"I feel the life in them," said Daenerys, pressing her cheek to the black and red egg. "Thank you Uncle Oberyn, thank you!"

"Anything for you, my dearest niece," said Oberyn, laid back on their courtyard couch, drinking wine with Daario. "Your mother tells me you had a dream about them."

Daenerys nodded. "Yes. I dreamt they hatched. Do you think they'd ever be big enough to fly on? Viserys says the skulls of the last few were no bigger than cats or dogs."

"It could happen," said Daario pensively. "There was the Dance of Dragons, right, and that went terribly for all the Targaryens and dragons alike. Also, I've heard it said that because so many of them were spoiled brats housed in the Dragonpit, their growth was restricted. Your mother could build you a whole cave for them or make a house in the outskirts of Braavos for the purpose of giving them space. She could afford to feed them each a mountain load of goats whenever they asked for them. They could eat the goats after she sacrifices them for missions."

Daenerys giggled as Brynhildr shrugged, figuring the goats were dead anyway after their rituals; might as well let the dragons feast on them. "What do you think, Ser Willem?" asked Daenerys, turning to the old knight. He was half-blind now, the years taxing, as he'd already been older when they arrived in Braavos. Brynhildr suspected he wouldn't be able to come with them when it came time to attack Westeros.

He tilted his head, leaning onto his cane. "If you've seen the dragons reborn, then it is unlikely the gods would make them small dragons. Surely they will be as useful as Aegon's were. Your uncle may be right– with enough space and a proper diet, they are supposed to grow." He wagged a wrinkled finger at her, "Mind your lessons with your Valyrian tutor, for you must bond with one if you want it to be your mount."

"Yes," agreed Brynhildr. "I wish we'd known about the dragon eggs when you were both still small. Oberyn told me some Targaryens put dragon eggs in the cradles of their children, so they'd grow together and be bonded from a young age. It's important one will surely listen to each of you."

"Perhaps you can ride the third," said Viserys. "During the Dance, not all dragonriders were as pure-blooded– some might not have even had a drop of Valyrian blood."

Brynhildr tilted her head. "I don't think it makes sense for me to ride a dragon, considering my grandfather killed one. The dragons might sense I am completely foreign– no ties to Valyria."

"The blood of Old Valyria runs strong in the Lysene," offered Oberyn. "They look very much like dragonriders. Perhaps we could find someone there who will be loyal to us, as the Dragonseeds were to Queen Rhaenyra... to an extent."

"Could be risky," posed Daario. "Giving someone we don't know a dragon. There is no guarantee they'd remain loyal to us."

Oberyn raised a playful brow. "Then what do you suggest?"

"I don't know, but we'd need a way to keep this loyalty. A reason for them not to desert us and take one of the dragons with them. If only I'd been born Lyseni–" He wiggled his brows at Brynhildr. "With that blood and your fortitude, we would have sired a dragonrider child years ago."

Viserys hummed, "Being Tyroshi should have been somewhat good enough, Uncle. Some dragonlords in Tyrosh survived the Doom, though the people killed the dragons and their dragonriders. It is said Alyssa Velaryon may have hidden in Tyrosh with Jaehaerys and Alysanne when they were trying not to be caught by Maegor. Perhaps Targaryen influence lingered there from then onwards."

"But didn't Tyrosh form part of the Triarchy during the Dance?" asked Daenerys. "I thought they sided with Tyland Lannister and captured Rhaenyra's son, Viserys, before the Battle of the Gullet. Wouldn't any influence be wiped out?"

"Well, yes, but mind your history. Aegon the Unworthy planned to marry Daemon Blackfyre to Rohanne of Tyrosh, an act finalized by Daeron the Good. Daemon and Rohanne had seven sons and at least two daughters– that influence could have lived on. Kiera of Tyrosh married Prince Valarr Targaryen, then his cousin Prince Daeron– she had Vaella with him."

Oberyn, Daario, Brynhildr, and Ser Willem shared amused looks at the two of them discussing history. Viserys would not admit that he liked to read. He claimed he was 'learning his histories' in the long hours he spent in the library devouring book after book. Each time Oberyn brought new books, he inhaled them before the next shipment came. He taught Daenerys about their family's history, Westerosi history in general, and used it as part of his lessons with his Kingmaker tutor, who expected Viserys to be well-versed in the mistakes of past rulers.

"At any rate," said Brynhildr, "it doesn't matter. There was no babe born to me and Daario or me and Oberyn, who has Targaryen blood surely from the Princess Daenerys who married into House Martell. We'll find another rider for the third dragon." She glanced at Oberyn, eyes narrowing at the thought of Arianne. He seemed to think the same thing.

"What's that?" asked Viserys, pointing between the two of them. "Everytime you look at each other like that, you're hiding something."

Daario muffled a laugh in the palm of his hand. "We'll discuss this later," said Oberyn calmly. "I'm going to take a walk."

Brynhildr left Viserys and Daenerys to continue examining the eggs– though Viserys seemed lost in thought, eyes narrowed suspiciously– while Oberyn and Daario went to walk through Braavos. She got to supervising the afternoon training groups, always one to assess the continued progress of her soldiers.

Viserys joined her later, Daenerys having taken the eggs to her room at the insistence that she wanted to see if she could induce a dream by napping next to them. Silently, Viserys sat beside Brynhildr as she shouted out comments to her Valkyries, following close behind when she stood to make a demonstration.

He'd never said it aloud once he became a teenager, but as a child, Viserys used to tell her she was the very best fighter. It had to be true, at least among her Valkyries; she was not worthy of being Commander if she wasn't always the strongest. The one able to correct others' mistakes and ensure they were defended, should the worst happen.

It had been one of the greatest joys to train him. Once a boy of six stumbling around with a sparring sword, then a boy of eight doing his best to hold a real sword and pretend his arms didn't ache. She remembered kneeling beside him when he was ten and frustrated at the plateaus that came with perfecting skills rather than adding to the mix. She'd cupped his face, pressed their foreheads together, and told him that he was her fierce boy, and none would be capable of standing against him once he truly learned. Sometimes, it just took awhile to get there.

Perhaps that was where he'd started to idolize her brother Ivar. She'd tell him stories about how Ivar could swordfight as good as any man while remaining completely seated. She told him of the time Ivar got mad at Sigurd and threw an ax right over his head, cutting just enough to draw blood but not enough to kill him. She told him how she'd carried Ivar around on her back until he'd built the best brace for his legs, allowing him to move with crutches and abandon his war chariot altogether.

Now, he was the strongest swordsman she'd ever seen. He could beat into men with his shield like any of her brothers, but he moved far more gracefully. He could move along with an enemy, anticipate their moves, switch to the sort of tactics used in the fighting pits at a moment's notice. His sword was an extension of his arm, allowing him to slither through the air like a serpent, dodging and cutting as if the tip of the sword had become razor-sharp teeth. The bulkiest of fighters, he darted around. The most lithe, he moved with until he found their weak spot.

Her shield-maidens and spearwives couldn't keep up with him anymore. Oberyn and Daario were starting to realize Viserys had taken everything they could teach him and run with it. He'd almost risen above Brynhildr, though that was probably only an 'almost' because she knew how to use so many different weapons that she still posed somewhat of a challenge. All they could do to interest him now was have him try to improve in the weapons he wasn't as taken with. So far, he'd not managed to throw knives as well as Daenerys and Kahmid.

At dinner, Oberyn and Daario returned to enjoy a feast with the Valkyries. They celebrated the arrival of the dragon eggs and the return of Oberyn, their two Commanders and Captain-adjacent together again.

"What's this secret you won't tell me?" insisted Viserys as they finished eating. "Please, I want to know– I'm not a child anymore. Mineri was my age when you brought me and Dany to her. Surely whatever this is, I'm old enough to hear it."

Oberyn sighed, clasping his hands together. "Well, I suppose, then, you are old enough. A pact was signed that year that you were brought here. There is an option for a dragonrider... someone who is going to be close to the family in the near future."

Viserys made a face. "Going to be close to the family? What do you mean?"

"We've had you betrothed to my niece, the Princess Arianne, since you were six years old. She is three years older than you, and my brother's heir." He let Viserys process this, then faced Brynhildr. "Though, Arianne may not be serious enough to be a dragonrider. Perhaps we'd need to extend the ask to Quentyn or even young Trystane. They're both good boys, they'd be loyal."

"Or one of your daughters," said Brynhildr. "Nymeria's mother is from Volantis; she surely has more Valyrian blood than Obara or Tyene. Sarella could be a candidate, though you said the Valyrians never conquered the Summer Isles."

"Wait," pleaded Viserys. "So, then, you have had betrothals for us already?"

"Not for Dany just yet," said Oberyn. "But perhaps, in time. You know how important alliances are to us. We could of course send Valkyries into Westeros to kill little by little every person who might stop you from taking the Iron Throne. Yet, the company would be doing your work for you. You still need to be the face of our fight, and through that, you must create your own image and forge your own alliances. We cannot do everything for you. We will help you plan this war but in the end, it will be your mind and your determination that land you both back in the Red Keep. I've given you dragon eggs, your Uncle Daario has added numbers to your initial army, and Brynhildr has done everything to train you. From now on, we'll be asking you to step up. To speak with us at the same level as we plot and plan this conquest."

Viserys let this sink in. "What are your initial thoughts, then?" asked Daario. "Go on, brainstorm. We're still here for you to fall back on– we won't let you make a mistake. Tell us, Your Grace, what do you think now?"

"I think... I shouldn't marry Arianne."

Oberyn started to laugh, but stopped when he realized he was serious. "And why not?"

Viserys began to rub his palms together pensively. "Well, Mineri met Lord Stark, Lord Bolton, and Stannis Baratheon personally. I think we're focusing on the wrong kingdoms for an alliance. Uncle, if Jon Arryn was assassinated... could it not mean the next target is King Robert?"

"Perhaps," agreed Oberyn. "In which case, Prince Joffrey takes the Iron Throne. Lord Varys thinks him temperamental and arrogant. He is not ready to be king."

"He could be goaded into making major mistakes," thought Viserys. "Though I suppose Tywin Lannister would seize control without Baratheon influence. Renly is on the Small Council, but he's not as experienced as Stannis, who as far as anyone knows, isn't close to Robert or Robert's children."

"We could find a way to deal with Stannis," thought Brynhildr. "I don't know if he would let his guard down around me but if something like that were to happen, I could try to negotiate with him or otherwise overpower him and try to treat with a seemingly kinder Renly. I saw Renly when he was just a boy."

"Well," said Daario, "doesn't most of Westeros heavily suspect you're protecting Viserys and Dany? They know Oberyn has a company out here in Braavos and they know no one has seen the children anywhere outside of Braavos since they first arrived. None of the assassins Robert has sent have ever made it back to him alive."

Oberyn nodded. "Varys did what he could to conceal their whereabouts but in the end, yes, it is highly suspected that they are here. Only, it would take a Westerosi force of at least two-thousand to come and try to root them out. The Faceless Men would not take kindly to the invasion and would help us by default. Renly and Stannis may both know the children are here and refuse to treat Brynhildr kindly if she were to go see them."

They were quiet until Viserys asked, "Mineri, you said your father became Earl by killing Earl Haraldson, then King by killing King Horik. So, he took the role of the man he killed. Does Westeros have something like that? If she were to kill both Stannis and Renly and take Stannis's daughter hostage, would she become Lady of Storm's End?"

Daario hummed. "I don't know if Westerosi would react well to that sort of show of strength. The Valkyries are nowhere near enough to control the whole of the Stormlands, and though they'd guard the castle well, they'd be able to do nothing if all, what, twenty-thousand men rose up in revolt. Though... if we could take the Stormlands, Storm's End would be a good fortress to have. On the mainland beside Dorne."

"Under the right circumstances, perhaps," murmured Oberyn. "Stannis is not a friendly man. If he does become Storm's End, he may be hated by his people. Though, he will be good at protecting himself from an attack. I suppose only time will tell."

"What about the Starks?" prompted Viserys. "Mineri, you could get us an in with speaking to the Starks. If King Robert were to die, then we could... work something out. The Baratheons and Lannisters killed Princess Elia and my niece and nephew. In a sense, both Dorne and the North were wronged by Rhaegar... we could appeal to that, couldn't we? The Dornish only supported Aerys because Elia and the children were hostages, otherwise, I imagine they would have abstained from battle altogether. If King Robert dies, it isn't exactly good for Ned Stark, is it? Robert let him do whatever he pleased but Joffrey might try to interfere with the North and put it under his thumb."

Brynhildr tilted her head. "Maybe. The North does have their own culture and custom, they like to govern themselves. If Joffrey were to try and interfere, they wouldn't like it."

Viserys offered, "Ned Stark has a son the same age as Dany. Perhaps we betrothe them to make peace with the North. The Riverlands and the Vale are close to them because Jon Arryn raised Ned and Catelyn Stark is a Tully by birth. They'll do whatever the North does– that's a kingdom to focus on."

"So, in a way, Dorne and the North fight alongside us through this promise of marriage," said Daenerys.

"Maybe," said Viserys. "Because, well, Dorne still wants to avenge Elia and the children anyway. I don't think we need a marriage between myself and Arianne to ensure it. On top of this, Uncle Oberyn is practically married to Mineri and brought us here in the first place– of course Dorne will support us. Not to mention Arianne is in line for her own throne."

"And who would you marry instead?" asked Brynhildr curiously.

"Margaery Tyrell. The Reach has many men and a great food supply we'll need both for our armies and our dragons. Randyll Tarly was one of Mace Tyrell's fiercest bannermen– he fought for my father and defeated Robert in the Battle of Ashford. That's a man I want on my side if it comes to it– that's a kingdom we will need."

Oberyn started to smile wide. "You are learning well, my boy. I will speak to my brother about this. Arianne does not even know of this pact, so, it would not hurt if it were... changed. The only thing I will tell you is that Dorne wants a Dornish Queen."

"So, Arianne's first daughter can marry my first son or her first son can marry my first daughter if she's my heir instead. They'll have their Dornish Queen one way or another. Just not right now. Not when other alliances are more important. We already know we can rely on Dorne but we don't know about the other kingdoms. If we were to secure the North and the Reach and even take the Stormlands by force... none could challenge us."

"It will be considered," promised Brynhildr. "After all, Robert is still alive. These are all hypotheticals and we don't know how sides will shift if Joffrey takes the throne and proves to be a terrible king. Let us keep these ideas in the back of our minds. For now, we need to focus on the dragons. I say we prepare a ritual. If we can birth them, then we have what we need. From then on, we can set our sights west."

She went to say goodnight to Daenerys some hours after dinner, having already told Viserys to get some rest even if he was going to have company in his chambers. Brynhildr sat at Daenerys's bedside, brushing and braiding her hair then rolling it into a coil around her head. She hugged her and sang in her ear a lullaby— Daenerys never tired of hearing them, even as a girl of sixteen.

Brynhildr wondered if her own mother ever thought of doing this and simply didn't. Brynhildr couldn't remember Aslaug braiding her hair. Helga sometimes brushed it, but Brynhildr was always so eager to go out with Floki and Ivar that she never let herself sit still for too long. Sometimes she still regretted that; if Helga had felt Brynhildr was her real daughter, if Brynhildr had filled the empty space left behind when Angrboda died, then perhaps Helga wouldn't have sought motherhood with Tanaruz, a girl taken from Spain who later killed Helga and herself to be free.

Though parenting Viserys had been fun because she could treat him the same way her brothers had treated her, a little warrior in the making, Brynhildr had found great fun in becoming a mother to Daenerys. As a baby, Daenerys would hang onto her, asleep on her shoulder, while Brynhildr instructed her Valkyries. As toddler, she'd follow Brynhildr around and always want to sleep beside her to receive gentle caresses against her back to help her go to sleep.

When she'd first become a teenager, she'd come to Brynhildr for every minor change in her body. She'd sung and danced and would be glad when Brynhildr sat down to watch her. Daenerys would talk to her about handsome boys and girls she saw through the window, she'd ask Brynhildr about love and about Prince Aethelred and why she liked both Oberyn and Daario. Her dreams had always been something Brynhildr wanted to hear, and even so, Daenerys and Viserys never overshadowed each other— none received Brynhildr's attention more than the other. Half of her day was devoted to each of them in some capacity, and so often they was overlap because they cared for one another enough to spend time together.

She hoped she'd made Queen Rhaella happy, in whatever afterlife awaited the people here. Each of her Valkyries had come from a different faith, and no one really knew what would come for them. Many had converted to believe in the Norse gods, and expected Valhalla. But Brynhildr didn't know if Oberyn and Daario felt that way, or if Viserys and Daenerys would think that their end goal. She didn't know what would happen after death; would she see them again or would they be separated forever?

"Mother." Daenerys turned to face her as Brynhildr mindlessly caressed her arm, trying to lull her into sleep. "I have a question."

Brynhildr craned her neck down. "What is it, my sweet girl?"

"If Stannis had said yes to coming to Braavos, do you think you would have loved him, too?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. He was handsome but very serious. I don't think he knew how to feel happy— he'd lost his parents so recently when I knew him. He intrigued me but he reminded me more of my brother than anything. I'm not sure I would have liked him unless he showed me another side to him. Your uncles, they make me laugh. They can thrill me in a fight or they can hold me when I am upset and need to shed a tear. I'm not sure Stannis could have done that."

"What about Lord Stark? Lord Bolton? Did you care for them, too?"

"Lord Bolton wanted to marry me, but... I think he only wanted a fierce wife that he could produce even fiercer sons with. He wouldn't have cared for me in the end. Lord Stark... he was sweet. I didn't think he'd become lord, since he had an older brother. He was solemn but... I liked it. I simply didn't think of it so much because I wasn't there to find love when I went to the North."

"You said other lords wanted to marry you. Do you think you would have married any?"

Brynhildr began to laugh. "You know, I was told that Lord Tywin himself would have wed me if I wasn't a foreigner of no house. I... never gave it much thought. I knew I did not wish to be tied down. And, well, it doesn't matter. I am here with you, and I am happiest like that."

"I am sorry you cannot have children," said Daenerys softly. "I've seen it in my dreams... if you'd come at a different time, you'd have been blessed with many children because they'd be needed."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I've seen it. If Idun had chosen a different time for you, you'd have been in love with two again... one a Prince and one a Queen. You'd have given them many children. But it would not stop what was to come. So, you came here instead. You were given two children and you saved our lives. I wish I could have had a little brother or sister."

"I wish I could have given you one," agreed Brynhildr, dipping down to kiss the top of her head. "But you know, as sad as it makes me, I am glad that I have you and Viserys. If you are all the gods give me, then I will rejoice each day because you are both wonderful, and one of you will sit the Iron Throne. I'll have a child who becomes a King or Queen and who brings peace to a whole nation because they hold within a good heart. What more could I ever want?" She tickled Daenerys, encouraging her to roll over and go back to sleep. "Rest, my little dragon. Dream and let another world come and show you the glimpses only you are worthy of receiving. I love you, my dear."

"I love you, Mother," said Daenerys. "We will make you proud."