The Office of the Master of Ships (98 AL)

He stroked his beard. "Braavos and Tyrosh caught my eye. Anywhere, really, with a vested interest in surviving the next winter, but it seemed politic to begin with our closest allies, or what passes for them. A little fire without the blood, eh?"

"Of course! We could line the ships with the same spells and material we use when dealing with wildfire. The heat in your cabins wouldn't be dissipating into the cold sea. It should offer more protection against the harsh waves, though I confess, I have never made a study of naval combat." He shrugged, "Why would the dragon learn to swim?"

"Fascinating..." The old Targaryen was always obsessed by the great beasts. He had never been allowed to attempt to bond with one, for a variety of good reasons. His father and brothers had always ridden Vhagar while Orys had always been blessed with a different set of skills. He was about to ask for further details of Seaskimmer's exploits, when he remembered what they were actually discussing.

"Certainly. It's the most basic technique an Alchemist employs before beginning any serious endeavor. We could actually employ our younger initiates who have to yet to master the finer skills. It would be good practice for them, and they often have difficulty finding work so soon, or at least that was the case before we expanded into the public markets."

"Most excellent." He stood up. "I'll have my people waiting. Great things will come of this arrangement, I suspect." Before leaving, he paused and asked, "Indulge my ignorance... how exactly are we related?"

He frowns. "It's the incest. Thank the Gods my mother was a Lannister, or else Lucerys and I might not have turned out so functional." He leaves to torture some mice in the name of science and impregnate a random servant.

A servant ushered Jaecarys into the office quickly. Baelon rose from behind his desk and came forward to embrace his son.

"Jace! You look well. Your mother wrote to tell me you were coming. I trust the skies were smooth? Where is Maeron?"

Baelon laughed at that, turning to fetch some wine for the two of them. "Well, your brother does take after me, none can deny that." He poured two glasses of strongwine, and handed one to Jaecarys. "But you presented yourselves to the Queen already? You should have come to me first. There are some benefits to being on the Small Council, including my sons not having to beg for an audience like seeds and smallfolk."

"That's commendable, but you know damn well that it's different. I was a bastard. You're a Targaryen, and a knight besides." He downed the strongwine like a shot, and poured himself another. "There's no shame in being helped to greatness. We switch out patrols in the Stepstones regularly. I could send you to accompany the new one. You want to serve your Queen, go burn some pirates in her name."

"If pirates were untrained, they wouldn't be pirates. They'd just be drunks." He shook his head. "I suppose you'd rather go fight skirmishes in the Marches, kill a few Dornishmen so our borders might expand by a few feet this year?"