'Lay out the options from A to Y.
If the answer is Z, kill them.'
- The Early Musings of Prince Rhaenar
><>
Prince Daemon's campaign in the Stepstones devolved into a gruelling stalemate.
For three years, Drahar the Crabfeeder avoided decisive engagement with Westerosi forces.
He achieved this by retreating into the islands' many caves, from which his men emerged at night to sabotage ships in the Velaryon fleet.
The tactic sharply reduced the effectiveness of dragonfire, and as months turned into years, frustration mounted.
Daemon proved a hard driver of his men, and morale eroded until open discontent spread through the ranks.
In time, their grumblings reached the King.
At Queen Alicent's urging, Viserys at last relented, and he dispatched troops to aid the campaign.
The letter the King sent with them said thus,
'Brother,
'I have ordered 10 ships and 2,000 men to set sail from King's Landing to join the effort in the Stepstones.
'Though time and circumstance have seen us estranged, know that it is not my desire to see you fail in your cause.
'It is instead my hope that this aid will deliver the victory that has thus far evaded us.
'I shall pray nightly to the gods for your safe return.'
When this reached the Prince, it was said he dashed the messenger's skull in before rowing off on what seemed a suicide mission.
Under the guise of surrender, Daemon lured the Crabfeeder into the open. Velaryon troops then surged forward to smash Drahar's forces.
Thus Prince Daemon's war in the Stepstones ended before the Crown's reinforcements could arrive.
A crown of driftwood was fashioned for him, and Daemon was proclaimed King of the Stepstones.
It was then that Prince Rhaenar was seen flying overhead, escorting a fleet of one hundred ships gathered from White Harbor, Braavos, Sisterton, Pentos, and Gulltown respectively.
"You and your father are too late, dear nephew," Prince Daemon said, gesturing toward the two thousand pirates nailed to posts and left for the tides and the crabs. "As you can see, the Stepstones are won."
"Congratulations, Uncle," Rhaenar replied. "I hereby recognize your claim to these islands, and will do all in my power to help you keep them, should you ask it of me. But I have flown these many miles not for you."
Prince Rhaenar then sauntered toward Lord Corlys
"As you can see, I command a fleet in need of proper direction. What say you, old man? Got enough left for another adventure?"
Corlys was hollowed – spent by three years of war. Yet at the Prince's words, the obvious provocation, something stirred, and new life filled his veins.
Corlys scoffed at the challenge, "You will call me Admiral."
So it was that Lord Corlys Velaryon and his son Laenor accompanied Rhaenar and his forces.
With the permission of the newly crowned King Daemon, Rhaenar chose to linger on the Stepstones.
In that time, he took stock of the volunteers, established their payroll, and drilled them as best he could into what would become the Legion's auxiliary forces.
At last came the ships he had been waiting for: vessels bearing delegates from Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys, sent to discuss the consequences of Daemon's war.
The meeting began with a measure of cockiness from these so-called diplomats.
The Crabfeeder's defeat, they claimed, was only a minor setback.
Prince Daemon would not hold the Stepstones for long, and no matter how many men Rhaenar gathered, it was only a matter of time before the Triarchy reclaimed control of the shipping lanes.
Prince Rhaenar listened with a blank expression. When their posturing ended, he raised a finger.
"That is not what I called you here to discuss. I do not care for miserable islands. Keep them.
"No — we are here because you made a grave mistake, and one of our fair maidens is missing. Now you must pay the price.
"I will not let it not be said I am not merciful, however. I will grant you this one grace:
"Choose."
The three delegations exchanged uneasy looks.
"Choose?"
"Which your cities we will lay to ruin. I will give you time to decide, but I will accept only a consensus. All three must agree. If you do not, I will destroy you all."
Corlys was dumbstruck. The Prince had given him no warning of such intentions. Laenor, by contrast, watched his cousin with open awe.
The delegations began to sweat.
"We will need time to send back word—"
"Nay. You will make this decision today," Rhaenar said. "Please, make use of the quarters provided for that purpose. I trust you will find them accommodating."
This event passed into history as the First Choosing, one of many exploits for which Rhaenar's name would be remembered.
When the Triarchy's diplomats withdrew to their meeting room, Corlys spoke at once.
"It would be prudent to inform your Admiral of such policies ahead of time, my Prince."
Rhaenar chuckled.
"Apologies. I could not deny myself the look on your face."
Laenor was near ecstatic at the prospect of the battles such developments promised.
"Will they truly reach a consensus?"
Rhaenar shrugged.
"Who can say? The Free Cities are famed for self-preservation. They will quarrel, accuse, and bargain among themselves.
"Either way, we sail for Lady Johanna. Each hour we delay is another cock inside her, and that's being generous. I will trust in your expertise to see us there safely, Lord Corlys."
Corlys knew the route well. The thought of visiting Lys one final time warmed his heart. Not to mention what such an expedition would do to increase Driftmark's treasury…
"It will be done."
In the end, the Triarchy's delegations beseeched Rhaenar for more time. The Prince feigned kindness and granted their request.
Once they were gone, the signal was given.
By the thousands they boarded the ships, hoisted their colors, and sailed south, flagshipped by the famed vessel Sea Snake, from which Corlys took his renowned moniker.
Corlys spread his captains across the fleet as best he could.
Even so, Sundance and Seasmoke circled overhead, occasionally swooping down to herd ships that strayed off course.
It soon became clear that not all would reach their destination, particularly if a storm should arise.
Rhaenar's unease at this was tempered by Corlys's assurance that such losses were to be expected on a voyage of this scale.
Trusting in the seasoned judgment of his admiral, Rhaenar pressed on with greater confidence.
Each league south brought a morning sun warmer than the last.
Dolphins followed the fleet with curiosity, and whales breached the ocean, drawing awe from all on deck to witness.
All the while, Rhaenar's conviction grew like a fire.
Spanned by favoring winds~