Chapter 26: Endless Councils and Sudden Arrival

Red Keep

King Viserys I sat wearily, watching his councilors return to their seats. Queen Alicent was absent from this meeting, as she was tending to the children.

"Well? Have you reached any conclusions?"

The king scanned the chamber, his gaze falling on the councilors who avoided his eyes. With a sigh, he rubbed his forehead. He and Maester Meros had pored over the records of royal lands for hours but found no suitable territories to allocate. The options were sparse: a strip of land along the Dornish Marches, scattered holdings within the Crownlands, a few rocky patches on the Crab Isle, and some small plots in the Riverlands. None were adequate to settle a powerful host that included two dragons and tens of thousands of people.

Dragonstone, of course, was out of the question—it couldn't be partitioned or repurposed without causing significant turmoil.

"Your Grace, winning the allegiance of House Vaelarys is indeed our best course," Lord Otto Hightower began. "But we must carefully consider the terms of such an alliance. Draezell and his brothers carry royal blood. Although Princess Saera was disowned by the late king, her Targaryen lineage was never formally stripped. I propose we restore their royal status and grant them the title of Royal Princes."

"That can be done," Viserys nodded. A mere title carried little real consequence.

"Your Grace," Lord Jasper quickly interjected, "if the Vaelarys brothers bear the title of Prince, it may raise questions about succession rights—"

"The succession rights of Princess Saera's line were already revoked," Lord Lyman interrupted with a cough. "There's no need to dwell on this point, Lord Wylde."

"What other terms can we offer?" asked Ser Tyland Lannister, idly turning the sphere before him. "According to our intelligence, the gold and silver aboard the Vaelarys fleet rivals what 'Sea Snake' Lord Corlys brought back during his Nine Voyages. Coin alone will not sway them, nor will a mere title."

"We could propose a marriage alliance," Otto added. "While the Crown currently lacks eligible daughters, we can arrange marriages for the next generation. Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena, Prince Aemond, and Prince Daeron's children could all be considered for such unions."

"And the offspring of Princess Rhaenyra," Lyman suggested. "If the queen or the princess were to bear more daughters, they could marry the youngest of the Vaelarys brothers."

Otto ignored Lord Lyman and pressed on. "House Vaelarys holds pure Valyrian blood, and integrating their lineage into the royal family through marriage would be a long-term benefit to the Crown."

"I understand," Viserys said. "But these are arrangements for the future, not immediate solutions. It is difficult to use something so distant as a bargaining tool today."

"Land," suggested Larys Strong. "Land is the most valuable currency we can offer. Your Grace could create a title in King's Landing—one that sounds prestigious but carries little real authority." The clubfooted Strong scanned the room before continuing. "Additionally, you could promise that landless sons of House Vaelarys will be given priority for induction into the Kingsguard in the future."

"Lord Larys Strong, mind your words." Captain Criston Cole finally spoke, tapping his armored hand against the table. "The honor and purity of the Kingsguard cannot be bartered in such negotiations."

Larys rolled his eyes subtly. The Kingsguard swore oaths of celibacy, ensuring no heirs. His suggestion was, in fact, a calculated way to diminish the future male lineage of House Vaelarys. As for honor and purity? He had his doubts.

"Draezell and his brothers are newcomers to these lands," interjected Lord Lyman. "They do not worship the Seven and naturally cannot grasp the full significance of the Kingsguard. The pressing matter remains the land."

"The royal holdings are small and scattered," Maester Meros lamented. "None are sufficient to be granted as a lordly domain to a royal prince leading thousands of followers and carrying immense wealth."

"Prince Daemon wasn't granted such treatment," Lyman mused silently. Perhaps Daemon simply lacked the unique leverage that Draezell and his brothers brought.

"The Reach is vast and fertile," Otto Hightower proposed, unfurling a map across the table. "Between the Greylock Hills and the Honeywine River lies a considerable stretch of land. This territory once belonged to dozens of minor Hightower vassals, but many have sold their lands or died without heirs. These lands are currently under the stewardship of my family, and we are willing to contribute them as royal holdings for the Crown's use."

Viserys gave Otto a blank stare, offering no response.

"The North is vast and sparsely populated," suggested Lord Jasper Wylde. "Why not negotiate with Lord Stark to grant some of its empty lands to them?"

"Are you suggesting we make it look like we're exiling them?" Lyman shot back sharply. "Besides, the Stark lord is just a child. He can't possibly navigate such complex matters."

"Then where do you propose?" Jasper retorted angrily. "Harrenhal, which not even Lord Larys can manage? Or Dorne?"

He quickly noticed the room's collective gaze shifting to him.

"I was just speaking hypothetically," Jasper muttered awkwardly, leaning back into his chair.

King Viserys sat silently at the head of the table, listening intently to the discussion that unfolded around him. It had been hours since the council began deliberating the matter of granting lands and titles to the Vaelarys brothers.

"The royal family has a piece of land at the end of the Boneway," Maester Mellos said. "To the south of this territory lies the Valley of the Balance, bordering House Tarth and House Dondarrion; further south are the Choice Lands and the Risky Borders, where the land is not particularly fertile. However, the Red Mountains are rich in minerals, and the hot climate is ideal for dragons. House Wyl from Dorne has often crossed the sea to harass these lands, so the three noble houses have little time to properly manage it. The royal family could fund the consolidation of these lands for rewarding purposes."

"There are also titles to consider," Lord Lyman reminded. "Since ancient times, frontier lands have had two hereditary titles. The Marcher of the Southern Marcher title is held by House Tyrell, giving them command over the western frontier lords. Meanwhile, the title of Marcher of the Marches belongs to House Caron of Nightsong, but House Caron has sworn loyalty to the Baratheon of Storm's End."

"I understand," the king replied. "The king cannot strip or transfer hereditary noble titles, so I will create a new title: Governor of the Marches. This title will allow the Vaelarys brothers to hold authority over the lands without needing to swear fealty to Lord Baratheon."

"What about Lord Boremund Baratheon?" Lord Jasper raised a concern.

"I have already corresponded with Lord Baremund," the king smiled. "He has no objections. Now, I wish to hear your opinions on the matter. Do you all agree with the proposal?"

"Yes," Lord Lyman was the first to raise his hand.

"Yes," Sir Tyland Lannister raised his hand second. He hadn't yet voiced his opinion, though he had hoped to see the land allocated to an island near Lannisport, but others had already spoken before he could.

"Yes," Lord Jasper agreed as well.

Larys looked around at the other ministers and raised his hand, too. "Yes."

Ser Criston Cole lifted his hand. "Your will is my will."

Otto sighed deeply and raised his hand. "Yes."

"Very well, the task of negotiation—" The king turned to Otto, but before Otto could respond, the doors of the council chamber suddenly swung open.

"Only a dragonrider should negotiate with another dragonrider, my brother." Daemon, covered in grime and dressed in armor, entered, followed by Princess Rhaenys, who was equally dusted with soot.

"Your Majesty," the two of them walked toward the long table, and the courtiers quickly stood to greet them. A brief smile flickered across the king's face, but it was soon replaced by a more serious expression.

"I trust the wisdom of this council has provided you with enough support for our negotiations, Your Majesty," Daemon said, bowing his head slightly while resting his hand on the Dark Sister.

"Of course," the king stood without hesitation.

"May the Seven bless your success."