Sails Depart King's Landing
The morning light at King's Landing Blackwater Rush was paler than yesterday. A thin mist draped the Blackwater Bay dock like a veil, and the dew on the bluestone slabs was not yet dry, leaving a slightly cool, damp feeling underfoot.
The clamor of yesterday's farewell has dissipated, leaving only the sporadic sounds of horses' hooves, the sailors' shouts as they gather anchor, and the rustling of the wind whipping the sails, all mixed with the sulfurous smell wafting from the distant Dragonpit, forming today's unique farewell melody.
Daemon stood in the middle of the pier, holding Gael's hand, surrounded by his followers Colin Celtigar, Rupert Crabb, Lyonel Corbray. Colin was still clutching the "gift" his uncle and cousin had left him the day before—a seashell they had brought from Crab Island.
Rupert was fiddling with his newly sharpened scabbard, while Lyonel glanced from time to time toward the Vale Lords who hadn't yet left, clearly also keeping an eye on what was happening there and preparing for the impending farewell that might come in the next few days.
The Grey Ghost flew above Daemon's head today, its light gray scales glistening with dew. Every now and then it would fly down and lie on the ground, nuzzling Gael's skirt with its head, prompting her to bend down and stroke its head.
The first to set off today Earl Lymond Lemon Mallister, whose "Silver Eagle" was the first to cast off, the silver eagle emblem on the bow gleaming coldly in the morning light.
Standing on the deck, he shouted to Daemon, "Your Highness! I have reinforced the defenses of Seagard as you instructed. Once the Joint Fleet arrives, we will surely be able to hold the entrance to the Narrow Sea!"
Daemon waved in response. "Rest assured, Earl, the fleet will definitely arrive next month!"
Count Farman's "Fairy" followed behind, his daughter Liliana clinging to the railing, raising a small wooden sign towards Damon.
Above was her drawing of Glutton, crooked yet earnest. Daemon smiled and nodded at her, recalling the scene last summer when, after the burning of Lannisport, he took the opportunity to tour Fair Isle, and this girl played with Gael and Mysaria.
Other ships that had departed from the lords' residences that day followed closely behind. There were no grand farewells; only when they passed the pier did the lords bow in respect, showing awe for the current power of the royal family, and perhaps also a sense of anticipation for the Joint Fleet.
As the sails of these fleets receded into the distance, the east side of the dock suddenly became lively. Some of the lords from the Westerlands and the Reach had finally prepared themselves, and a dozen ships lined up in a row. The golden lion flag of the Westerlands and the rose flag of the Reach fluttered side by side in the wind, which was particularly eye-catching.
Viserys, accompanied by Aemma and Rhaenyra, followed by Leonno Strong and Otto Hightower, slowly walked onto the pier.
Aemma held onto Viserys's arm, while Rhaenyra leaned on her father's shoulder, clutching a piece of honey cake in her little hand, occasionally popping a bite into her mouth. Upon seeing Daemon, she immediately waved her little hand and shouted "Ahhh!"
In the Westerlands Frontier, Duke Taimond Lannister stood on the deck of the Golden Lion, flanked by Jason Lannister and Tyland Lannister, protected by their attendants.
Cyren Reyes approached, his hand resting on the sword at his waist, and bowed to Damon: "Your Highness, I have completed the inventory of our three warships from Reyes Castamere, and they will be assembled at Blackwater Bay on time at the beginning of next year."
Daemon patted him on the shoulder. "You're good with your greatsword. If you join the fleet, you can learn some marksmanship from Colin."
Tybolt nodded emphatically, his eyes filled with excitement.
On the other side, Taimond raised his glass to Viserys: "Your Highness, the Westerlands will forever remain loyal to the Iron Throne."
Viserys replied, "Rest assured, Duke, the Joint Fleet will certainly protect the Westerlands coast."
Otto Hightower stood to the side and smiled at Mathos Tyrell, "Lord Tyrell, with so many merchant ships in the Reach and a fleet escorting them, this year's wine is sure to sell even better."
Mathos nodded with a smile, though his eyes weren't particularly warm—he had never liked the second son of the House Hightower —but seeing the other's recent "praise" of him, he was naturally happy to give him a smile.
In the Reach, Mathos Tyrell and Garlan Tyrell stood aboard the Rose.
Lucas Tyrell ran over, scratched his head at Daemon, and said, "Your Highness, I've spoken to my family. I'd like to participate in the Joint Fleet's affairs as well. I'll be there with Mace— "
Daemon smiled and nodded, quickly stopping the other's "dangerous" pledge of loyalty. "Alright, this is a good opportunity for you to learn how to manage a fleet."
Mace Florent then quietly approached and gently slipped a map of the Reach's merchant shipping routes into Daemon's hand Whisper in Daemon's ear, "Your Highness, this is the Reach's merchant shipping route for this year. My uncle helped mark the sections prone to attack, which should be useful to the fleet. Combined with the nautical charts from Alyn's family, it might yield unexpected gains—"
Daemon took the drawing and carefully put it away. "Thank you, Mace."
Lia Osgre walked up to Gael, holding the ivory-hilted dagger in her hand. "Princess Gael, is the scabbard finished? I'm still waiting for the House Osgrey crest to be embroidered."
Gael smiled and nodded, "It'll be ready soon. I'll have a servant deliver it to you as soon as it's done. You should go and say goodbye to your family first."
Lia's eyes lit up, and she nodded vigorously.
Daemon wasn't particularly interested in Viserys's formal farewell— Otto's gaze kept lingering on him, with a scrutinizing look that made him very uncomfortable.
After a brief chat with Garlan Tyrell about the training plans for the Joint Fleet, he took Gael's hand and led Colin, Rupert, Lyonel to the west side of the dock, where the House Redwyne's fleet was moored. Alyn Redwyne was waiting with Little Horas to see off his uncle, Big Horas Great.
The sails of the House Redwyne's "Arbor" were light blue, embroidered with a bunch of grapes, giving it a particularly refreshing look.
Big Horas the Elder stood on the deck, his hand on the longsword at his waist, talking to Alyn.
Alyn's younger brother Little Horas, followed beside his brother, carrying a barrel of wine—a gift from their hometown, entrusted to them by their father by their uncle.
However, as soon as Little Horas saw Daemon, he immediately put down his arm and waved to Daemon, saying, "Your Highness Daemon!"
Hearing the commotion, Alyn quickly turned around and greeted him with a smile, "Your Highness, why have you come in person?"
Myles, who had come with Daemon, patted him on the shoulder. "His Highness must have come to see your fleet and Big Horas off, after all, we're returning to King's King's Landing on your fleet."
Big Horas, seeing him approach, bowed to Daemon: "Your Highness, our five warships from Arbor are ready. I will personally lead the fleet to Blackwater Bay early next year. I entrust the care of the two children, Alyn and Little Horas, to you."
Daemon nodded. "Don't worry, Sir. I trust Alyn's abilities. He'll certainly be useful in the Joint Fleet."
Alyn scratched his head. "Your Highness, I've already made arrangements with Little Horas. I'll teach him how to use a sword when I return from the fleet."
Little Horas quickly chimed in, "Brother, don't lie to me!" which drew laughter from everyone.
Just then, a steady footstep sounded – Ser Lyan Redwyne, dressed in the white robes of the Kingsguard and holding a longsword, strode over.
As the uncle of Earl Redwyne and Big Horas the Elder, and the great-uncle of Alyn and Little Horas, he had come all the way from the Red Keep to see his nephew and his own fleet off.
"Horas," Lyan patted his nephew on the shoulder, "If you need anything regarding the fleet, just let me know. I'll coordinate with Prince Baelon."
He then turned to Alyn and Little Horas.: "You two should stay close to Little Daemon and not disgrace House Redwyne."
Alyn nodded emphatically. "Don't worry, Uncle!"
As the horns sounded, Redwyne's fleet began to cast off.
Big Horas waved to the crowd. "See you early next year!"
Alyn and Little Horas waved to their uncle until the sails of the "Arbor" disappeared into the mist.
Alyn and Little Horas gazed into the distance until the sails of the fleet gradually disappeared before reluctantly turning their eyes away.
Lyan Redwyne patted his two grandnephews on the shoulder. "Don't be sad, we'll see each other again after the New Year."
Gael leaned against Daemon and whispered, "Watching them say goodbye today reminded me of when we saw Rhaenys and the others off yesterday."
Daemon gripped her hand tightly, his gaze sweeping across the crowd at the dock—
Viserys was already heading towards the Red Keep with Leonno and Otto, while Taimond Lannister's Westerlands fleet had set sail, with Lord Mathos Tyrell's fleet following behind, their golden lion-patterned sails particularly conspicuous in the sunlight.
"It's different," Daemon said softly. "This parting is for a better reunion next time—for the Joint Fleet, for the seas of the Seven Kingdoms, and you could also say for—our wedding next year?"
Gael's cheeks flushed instantly. She looked up at Daemon, her eyes filled with shyness and anticipation.
Suddenly, Grey Ghost brought over a dried fish and handed it to Daemon, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
Alyn chuckled and joked, "Your Highness, Grey Ghost probably also wants to join Redwyne's fleet and go out to sea to eat fish!"
Daemon took the dried fish and ruffled Grey Ghost's hair. "Don't worry, after the Joint Fleet training is over, I'll take you for a stroll in the Narrow Sea."
The Glutton let out a dragon's roar high in the sky, its jet-black wings sweeping over the masts of the dock, as if in response to Daemon's words.
Daemon held Gael's hand, watching the sails gradually disappear in the distance, his heart filled with determination. This parting was not the end, but the beginning of the Joint Fleet guarding the seas of the Seven Kingdoms. It was also the Storm he, the Black Dragon from a hundred years in the future, was stirring up, together with Gael, Mysaria, Johanna, and all his followers, to protect the beginning of this peace.
"Let's go," Daemon said with a smile to the group. "Let's go back and prepare. We'll be busy when the Joint Fleet arrives in a few months."
Alyn, Little Horas., and the others immediately nodded and escorted Daemon and Gael towards the Red Keep.
The Grey Ghost followed behind, occasionally nuzzling Daemon and Gael's clothes, while the Glutton hovered high in the sky, protecting them.
The afternoon sun shone on them, carrying a warm glow. The sea breeze of Blackwater Bay still blew, but today it no longer carried the melancholy of parting, only anticipation and longing for the future.