The dragons were a delight.

It was all anyone could talk about when they got back to Valkyrie Keep. Everyone wanted to watch them eat, wanted to giggle and point as Viserys and Daenerys spoke High Valyrian to calm them. Little Rhaegal was the most playful, jumping away from Daenerys to try to scare everyone watching, then hiding behind her when everyone 'awed' too loud for his tastes.

While everyone else was gushing over the three newest babies of the household, Brynhildr, Oberyn, and Daario were keeping up with Varys and other confidants. From sources in the North, they'd learned that Eddard Stark had accepted to becoming Hand, his daughter Sansa unofficially betrothed to Prince Joffrey. However, when the royal family had gone to visit them at Winterfell, his younger son Bran had somehow fallen from a tower and had not woken up.

No one thought it a simple accident. What were the odds such a thing befell the Stark family after Jon Arryn's murder? Tragedy was following Robert around; they could not be blind to that. Daenerys had been sad to hear the boy might never walk again if he did live, and said she would try to see what'd happened to him in a dream. Trying so hard seemed to only bring her a headache.

"You were chosen to receive these visions," said Brynhildr, placing a cold rag on her neck when she awoke the following morning feeling dizzy. "No seer is truly given the power of deciding what visions do and don't come. The Ancient One in Kattegat, he could speak only in riddles of things brought up in that moment, when sought out. But in the end, not even him or my mother could conjure a particular instance in the past, present, or future."

"He's only a little boy," said Daenerys sadly. "Who would do that to a little boy?"

"Whoever it is will be found eventually. If it is someone in the Lannister family... we intend to rip them out root and stem as soon as we are able to. Don't fret about this. Focus on your dragons."

Daenerys turned to a large pen that'd been set up as a sort of play area, filled with a flat tray to serve as a bedpan, some cushions to nap on, and four torches looming over to give them some heat. "I don't think any of them are girls," said Daenerys as Fafnir poked his head out, chirping and demanding to be carried to bed for sleep. "I don't think they will lay eggs."

"Perhaps we'll find other dragons," offered Brynhildr. "Or perhaps there will be some sort of magic that makes one of the dragons a female. Your Uncle Oberyn told me that different maesters had different theories about how to sex a dragon, some believed they were without sex, others with a set sex, others with a fluid sex. Perhaps the theory will finally be proven in the face of scarcity. For now, focus on nurturing your little ones."

It was easy enough to get Daenerys to worry only about the dragons, who were needy little things hell-bent on having her undivided attention. In a way, Daenerys herself had been like that as a baby. Rather than Viserys having been jealous of how much Brynhildr carried Daenerys around, it had been Daenerys who became jealous that during her time with Brynhildr, Viserys somehow found a way to be involved.

Feeding them was not a challenge. There was always plenty of meat to be bought in Braavos, and the cook never minded adding a new batch to boil, a practice they'd continue until the dragons learned to fry the meat to their liking. Apparently, they were too little to be sputtering out fire, tiny eyes blinking up at Daenerys each time she beckoned them to. Brynhildr wondered if young dragons needed older ones to teach them what to do.

For two months, all they did was focus on what the dragons needed. Daenerys still sang to them, sitting in the sun at their side while they watched the Valkyries train. They were growing fast with all the space available to them; already they'd begun to fly a little bit, just enough to swoop over people's heads. Brynhildr wasn't sure how quick dragon development was, but she hoped they'd improve given a few more months. They were the size of small cats and dogs, neither of which was going to help them burn fleets.

She kept herself busy with plotting despite the current lack of promise from her new grandchildren. Oberyn learned from Varys that Lord Stark had come to King's Landing with his daughters, Sansa and Arya. Some time after, Lady Catelyn had come to speak with Lord Stark to accuse the Lannisters of having pushed Bran out of the tower window.

An assassin had come to try and finish the job on Bran with a Valyrian steel dagger that Lord Petyr Baelish– a man Varys called 'Littlefinger,' who'd grown up with the Tullys and supposedly been in love with Catelyn– had said belonged to Tyrion Lannister. At any rate, Lord Stark was more occupied with investigating Jon Arryn's murder, which didn't appear capable of bringing anything good. His current theory was that Jon Arryn was poisoned, which was about the same estimation given to Oberyn by Varys. It didn't bode well for Lord Stark to be asking so many questions, and Brynhildr took it as a sign that if not Robert, then he was surely next on the kill list.

"My two-hundred ships are ready whenever the rest of you are," said Brynhildr, enjoying a hot bath while Oberyn and Daario waited naked on her bed, already teasing each other. "We'll have over two-thousand swords with the Valkyries and Stormcrows. It won't be enough to take any keep on the mainland, not until the dragons can be used to burn men and bend the steel on their swords."

"What of this Keep?" asked Oberyn, gesturing around them as Daario kissed down his chest. "Has the Sealord agreed to hold it?"

"Of course. He earns much coin from our business and Braavos can rely on us more readily than the Faceless Men when it comes to handling disputes in other Free Cities. Besides, the goal is for the Valkyries to return once our goal is met. Some of my girls are staying behind to keep our forges open with whatever ships we don't have enough people to man, but otherwise, the house will be held by the Sealord's men."

"Can you trust this Sealord?"

"Ferrego Antaryon is old and failing but I've already spoken with all his potential replacements to ensure our partnership will continue. The city has flourished in the eighteen years we've been settled in Braavos. My girls have done their share of convincing as well, to impress upon that point."

Oberyn wiggled his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Of course. We use every weapon at our disposal. That includes the weapon most men fall apart for." Brynhildr slid out of the bath, raising a curious brow as Oberyn winked. "Don't tell me you never used sex to convince someone into doing what you asked of them. We're all terrible people for it regardless of the context. When the money-hungry men who run this city are willing to be swayed in one direction or another with the simple promise of sex, there is no reason to shy away from seizing the opening and manipulating every inch of space they offer."

"I am not judging you," insisted Oberyn, running a hand through Daario's hair and pushing his head down, sighing in pleasure. "You are vicious and I've always liked that. I think you ought to continue that now..." He gestured down at Daario. "I do love when you pin him down."

Brynhildr smirked. "And he likes it, too. Held hostage until I've ridden away all my frustrations." She dried herself off and stepped towards the bed, Daario drawing up for breath for only a second before Brynhildr had pushed him hard onto his back, crawling onto his lap and holding his wrists above his head.

"Of course I like this," said Daario, smirking and letting go of his control completely, allowing her to kiss his neck. "She can't do it to you, so I'll gladly enjoy it."

"No, she can't do it," agreed Oberyn. "You submit to both of us and she chooses how she feels each day... one of us has to be firm enough not to bend the knee to anyone."

"And of course it's the one with house words that say 'unbowed, unbent, unbroken.'"

Brynhildr giggled, straddling Daario properly, his neck arching back as she began to ride him hard, keeping a hold on his wrists. Oberyn kept a pensive face, leaning on his arm to watch them, "I was thinking... if all goes well in Westeros, I will move here permanently. My brother will no longer need me, and my girls are grown. They've all chosen not to be legitimized and have their talents and hobbies. My presence won't matter so much in Dorne."

"A big decision," panted Daario. "And a good one. Mineri is going to be lonely without the children around."

"You misunderstood me," said Brynhildr breathlessly. "I never said I was coming back to Braavos. I'll stay with the children until the gods themselves rip me away. I will be there to guide them even when they have their throne. They don't stop being my children only because they have crowns on their heads. They'll need me more when that day comes."

Daario let out a groan, throwing his head back in ecstasy. "Looks like I'm moving to Westeros. Gods. Why did they think a man like me worthy of this? They must love me."

Oberyn and Brynhildr started to laugh, which only intensified Daario's pleasure. Brynhildr let go of his hands in favor of leaning back to hold his thighs, his own hands flying to grasp her hips. Only once Daario had tapped out for the night, legs a trembling mess, did Oberyn wrap his arms around Brynhildr, laying her on her side and lifting her leg to fuck her gently. He kissed her neck while she caressed Daario's hair to relax him, lulling him to sleep.

She wondered if Daario was serious about moving to Westeros. If Oberyn had been serious about leaving it behind in favor of staying in Braavos. Did it mean she could have them both at her side permanently, no matter where she went? Would they follow her to the ends of their earth so long as her children were paving the path ahead?

Brynhildr thanked the gods silently. Oberyn and Daario had given her a devotion she'd never known. No others loved her so fully and committed themselves to giving her everything she could ever want. She thought of Daario's question– how did the gods think her worthy of this? She wasn't sure she'd earned it in the time she lived in Norway.

It was a recurring question that came to mind. She'd not appreciated the time she had with her parents or brothers until after it came to its end. Why would the gods want a girl who cared so little in charge of an entire dynasty? Why had that made her the perfect person to raise Viserys and Daenerys?

The next morning as they were eating together (the spoiled little dragons being hand-fed by Daenerys), a little bird from Varys brought yet another update. Lady Catelyn had taken it upon herself to seize Tyrion as a captive, which had only mounted tensions. On top of this, Varys was still highly suspicious of Littlefinger. He didn't understand why Littlefinger was so personally invested in this; clearly he wanted something. Brynhildr made sure to remember his name, so that she might kill him before he proved a problem.

"This tension between the Starks and Lannisters could be good for us," said Oberyn, eyes tracking how Viserion tried (and failed) to catch the food Daenerys tossed at him. "It could widen the doorway for us to enter the Seven Kingdoms and seize some sort of fortress for ourselves. Regardless of how it ends, we need to consider the dragons are not yet threatening enough to use. What other weapons do we have that might cause as much damage?"

"Well, Brynhildr and I perfected the scorpion design last year," posed Daario. "If they were enough for Meria Martell to have Meraxes and Rhaenys killed, surely we can split ships in half with a well-aimed hit. We've already proven superiority in attacks at sea from how we seized Euron Greyjoy's fleet. Brynhildr fashioned poisoned darts like those Sámi apparently did during the Battle for Kattegat. The pipes we've made can launch them fairly far, and even then we have archers who could light their arrows on fire to set sails aflame. Combined, we stand to seize any fleet smaller than ours. The Valkyrie archers have incredible aim."

Brynhildr lifted her fork to make a note. "Additionally, I've been thinking that we have a set force of archers with poisoned arrows. That way they help the ones with the darts to have to hit men only once to weaken them. Arrows will pierce more even if it delivers a smaller dosage of poison. That way, the archers devoted to starting fires on the ships have less to worry about. For now, we have to make the fires ourselves."

Daenerys insisted, Fafnir settled comfortably on her lap, "The dragons will grow. The only thing is, we don't know much about them. All we are sure of is that they eat meat and that they need plenty of space to fly. Perhaps if I did some research, we could find a particular food that works better for the dragons. Otherwise, we could try a growth ritual."

"It wouldn't hurt," agreed Viserys. "To make offerings every few months to help the dragons. They've started spewing little bits of fire. Perhaps they could light the fire this time and give their own magic for the spell. Dany and I have been praying to the gods but perhaps more sacrifices are needed."

"They'll grow," said Daario, reaching out to tap his shoulder. "Don't worry. They need time. It took many years to turn you both into fighters and scholars. The dragons will require at least a few more months to be ready to burn people. Besides, at present, we're not ready to move anywhere. We have to wait for the Stark-Lannister tension to blow a hole through someone before we're ready to consider any attack."

"Agreed," said Oberyn. "And even so, there is much we can manage to do without the dragons. Keep them nourished. Try to bond with one, both of you. It's alright that we don't yet have anyone to ride the other. We'll find a rider eventually."

The more Brynhildr thought about it, the more she worried it was going to be difficult to manage. Oberyn's daughters and Doran's children had blood too diluted, aside from Nymeria and perhaps Sarella. If that was their plan, it probably wasn't going to work. Brynhildr didn't even think children between herself and Daario would have changed anything; they needed more than just someone with distant Valyrian blood, they needed someone with dragonrider blood to have the greatest chance of claiming the dragon.

At any rate, she asked both Oberyn and Daario after dinner to try and bond with whichever dragon was leftover once Viserys and Daenerys had both made their claims. She'd make an attempt if neither of them were successful. After that, they may need to bring Nymeria over for her own bonding attempt.

She started to brainstorm how they could make up for the lack of a dragonrider on top of the lack of dragons large enough to be ridden. It might take a year for them to be large enough for Daenerys to mount, and nothing could be estimated about the taller and more muscular Viserys, who weighed almost twice as much as her. On top of this, they would need saddles, the bulk of which would need to be accounted for.

More swords, that was her immediate solution. She had two-hundred ships and though her girls were trained enough to manage crews with less than thirty bodies for them to take at least seventy out to Westeros, she would prefer to have a minimum of thirty on each one and take more than a hundred if possible. She tried to think of which sellsword companies she could either absorb of form a partnership with as she had with the Stormcrows.

There was not a single hope of gaining an alliance with the Second Sons. Some years ago, the Valkyries and the Second Sons had come in contact during a job in Slaver's Bay. Their past captain, Mero the Titan's Bastard, had made some crude implications about what he wanted to do with the girls after their job was done.

Some of her more temperamental Valkyries had taken it upon themselves to Blood-Eagle Mero after he grabbed the arse of one of their youngest members. The only reason they hadn't gotten into an all-out war was because the new captain declared that Mero had been bad for business and the girls were within their right to defend themselves. All the same, an unofficial decision was made that the next time the Valkyries came close, the Second Sons would not simply let them leave.

The Company of the Cat had three-thousand men and the Windblown two-thousand, but Captain Bloodbeard and the Tattered Prince were so often locked in their own disputes that they couldn't hope to pull them apart for something like this. The Free Company and Gallant Men each had a thousand men to their name, but were also consistently unavailable due to their contracts in the Disputed Lands. As close as they were to Westeros, she doubted she'd capture their interest.

The Men of Valor had only a hundred men to offer and the Stormbreakers perhaps two-hundred, but both groups had always steered clear of the Valkyries given the size difference of the groups. She kept them in the back of her mind if only because their men were said to be honorable and kind in comparison to other sellswords. Lastly, Brynhildr didn't like Gylo Rhegan, Commander of the Long Lances. He wasn't particularly motivated to do much with his eight-hundred-rider company, not to mention she didn't want only riders to join them.

The only feasible option was the diverse Golden Company. Daario had heard recently that they didn't actually have war elephants anymore, not that Brynhildr would have wanted to use her ships to transport them, given the Golden Company didn't have a navy. Made up of ten-thousand men, they had about five hundred knights with three horses apiece and five hundred squires with one horse. They had a thousand archers that could probably be useful on their ships if their goal was to sink enemy fleets without dragons. The other eight-thousand men were a variety of light cavalry, spearmen, and swordsmen.

Their discipline was spoken of in high regard; only the Valkyries were considered more trusted and honorable than them. Daario told her that the Golden Company did not necessarily consider themselves sellswords, rather, a free brotherhood of exiles. They'd been founded by Ser Aegor 'Bittersteel' Rivers, bastard of Aegon the Unworthy. He'd aided Haegon Blackfyre in the Third Blackfyre Rebellion and had participated in the Fourth Blackfyre Rebellion as well.

The company had come to belong to Maelys 'The Monstrous' Blackfyre after he twisted the head off of his cousin Daemon to gain command. Maelys had been killed by Ser Barristan Selmy in single combat to eliminate the Blackfyre threat to the Iron Throne. The current members of the Golden Company no longer consisted of Blackfyre supporters, Maelys gone half a century ago. The old feud was dead to them, and most of the members now supposedly wished to return to Westeros to give up the practice of sellswording in favor of lands, riches, and positions of power. That, Brynhildr believed they could grant.

She believed it possible that the Golden Company could choose to follow them now that Daenerys had birthed her three dragons. This served as a good chance for them to return to their home soil and start families. Any who wished to stay as sellswords could join the Valkyries as Einherjar, given they were men who would follow orders well.

Brynhildr posed the idea to Daario and Oberyn, both of whom figured it was worth a try. With ten-thousand men of the Golden Company, they could afford to take almost all two-hundred ships and ensure they had a great naval strength on top of a large force on land.

She sent out a group of envoys to ask Harry Strickland for a meeting with him and his other captains, to see if they might come to some sort of agreement. Around the time the envoys returned to say Harry Strickland and the Golden Company were on their way, Varys told them that Ned Stark had been attacked in the streets for what his wife did.

Ser Jaime Lannister had stabbed him in the leg and fled to find his father. The Lannsiters had begun to attack people from the Riverlands, and Lord Eddard, sitting the Iron Throne in Robert's stead, had called for Tywin to present himself for the crimes of Ser Gregor Clegane. Somehow, on a hunt, Robert had been attacked by a boar and while he lay dying, wrote a decree stating that Lord Stark would rule as regent until Joffrey was of age.

Varys had wondered if Robert's squire, Lancel Lannister, had purposely given him too much wine or perhaps poisoned him. Lord Renly Baratheon had wanted to seize Joffrey and keep him hostage to prevent Cersei from trying anything with him, though apparently Lord Stark hadn't agreed in favor of placing Stannis as king in Renly's stead. One of Varys's birds had overheard Renly questioning if good soldiers made good kings, considering the disaster that'd been Robert's reign.

As soon as Robert was dead– Oberyn and Daario downed three bottles of ale when they read that– Renly had left along with Ser Loras Tyrell and some fifty retainers. It all but assured them that Stannis and Renly were going to stake their claims to this throne. Ned Stark had been taken captive for apparent treason. Sansa Stark was being held hostage and no one had yet located Arya Stark.

It was Varys's belief that Ned's mercy had killed the King, for apparently, he'd learned the truth Jon Arryn had been killed for. Cersei's children were bastards fathered by her twin brother, Jaime. Lord Stark should not have given Cersei a chance to run away with ehr children; all he'd done is cause her to turn on the offensive. Tywin Lannister had now been named Hand of the King and Ser Jaime the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard as Ser Barristan was dismissed for 'failing' to protect Robert.

Varys surmised that Ser Barristan would go back to where his previous loyalties had been, presumably to find them in Braavos. Already, young Lord Robb had raised his banners to rescue his father and sisters, and was marching through the Neck against a force of Lannisters.

The door was being forced open, and Brynhildr intended to flood through it with more men than any of them would have expected.