Chapter 41
VISERYS TARGARYEN
Viserys frowned as he heard the news of the Velaryon's deaparture from his new Hand.
"They left the capital," he asked surprised and angered by the sheer arrogance.
"Yes, your grace. Lord Corlys, and his retinue departed from the capital late into the night. The Velaryon fleet departed with them," and the arrogance of that man reminded him of why he hated him.
"Prince Aegon and I went to his holdings in the city to meet with him, but he was not there and we were told of their departure," and that angered him much. To not even seek his permission, to not even inform him or his council of his departure and just to leave like that.
This was the hubris of Corly Velaryon, a Velaryon who sough to replace the blood of the dragon on the throne. One who reached beyond his station, an unsatiable man who plotted his downfall.
"Where is Aegon?" he questioned, and the Lord Hand was quick to answer.
"The Prince has gone welcome his cousin Ser Willam, he has reached the capital," and that was quick. Willam Royce would have had to ride hard and fast just to make it in the capital as quickly as he had, but that would solve one of his political headaches, with at least a permanence in the Council things would settle down.
"That means he will be leaving soon," and Lyonel nodded.
"Indeed, and I have learned that you intend for the Princess to join him on this journey to the Vale," and that had been the boy's request, to allow Rhaenyra to go with him to the Vale to spend sometime there in the company of her cousin, in Aemma's old home.
And reluctant as he was, Viserys had seen the wisdom in it. The Red Keep had been plagued with tragedy after tragedy, specially for his dear daughter who had lost first her mother, then her best friend, and lastly Daemon, her uncle.
She was young, and despite his love for her, he knew that he could never comfort her as someone of her won gender could, and now in the absence of even her friend there were few people who could be trusted.
And the Lady Jeyne was one, being Rhaenyra's distant cousin the girl had been writing to Rhaenyra for years and had suffered a loss of her own relatively recently. It would be best for them to meet and share each other's sorrow, and for Rhaenyra to find a new friend—a new companion.
"Yes, for sometime. The capital has seen much death," he added softly as he turned towards the window of his solar.
"It would do her well to be away from it for some time," and Lord Lyonel nodded.
"That is wise of you, your grace. But what of the war there, would it be safe for her?" and he waved away the concern.
"Aegon has assured me that she will be safe, and I trust him on that," he was amongst the few he could in these times.
"You once counselled me for a match between Aegon and Rhaenyra," he asked cutting off the new Hand mid sentence, and he nodded.
"I did, your grace," and then he asked him for more.
"Would you counsel me for the same today?" he asked and the man nodded without hesitation.
"I would, the marriage between the Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon would do much to stabilise the realm, and join both yours and Prince Daemon's lines," and indeed it would, hence making Corlys's attempts to further himself futile.
"Rhaenyra is set to return to the capital in a moon's time," he added for she was the Princess and unlike Aegon who was also the heir to Runestone, her place was at the capital by his side.
"I intend to announce the match between her and Aegon at that time," and he saw his lord hand's eyes widen at that command, and yet there was subtle joy in that gaze as he nodded.
"That is a wise choice, it would do much to assuage the pain that lingers here in the capital," and he nodded. Indeed, it would.
It had been quite sometime since the castle had seen some joy, and nothing was more joyful than a royal marriage, especially one of a Prince and a Princess.
"The marriage will take place soon after that. I wish you to make preparations in that regard," and Lord Lyonel nodded.
"It will be done your grace," and at that he thought of another matter.
"And send me a scribe, I intend to write to Aegon's mother. It is time for her to come to the capital...."
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RHAENYS VELARYON
She should have expected this. She should have, and yet she had not. And when Corlys had asked of her to leave the capital in the dead of the night she had complied, and had flown back on Meleys, to High Tide only to learn of Corlys's sinister plans.
"This is idiocy," she balked, as she heard his plans.
"It is not, I have thought this through and believe it to be the best path for our House," and she could hardly believe that. This was not a well thought out plan. This was desperation. This was pride.
"You wish to join hands with those slavers from Lys to attack the Stepstones," she balked and the just saying it out loud made her think of the stupidity of it all.
"Even you must see the absurdity of this. Have we not been burnt once by those slavers already, and yet you wish to join hands with them once more," she asked incredulously and Corlys shook his head as he continued to gaze into the fireplace.
"That was on Daemon. Daemon was the one who rushed to the battle drunk, and slipped off of his saddle. And this time Lys shall support us in the open from day one of the battle," he added and she rose from her chair.
"I cannot stand by it. Don't you see what this will do to us, to our House to our family," she pleaded and Corlys turned towards us.
"It will further us. It will fore Viserys's hand...." and that was the root of it.
"I do not desire the THRONE!" she found herself shouting, and saw his eyes widen at her tone.
"I have no desire for it. I gave it up years ago when I gave birth to Laena and Laenor, when I choose family over that decrepit chair, and I do not regret it. Not for a single day!" she added, and yet for some reason this was much harder for him to give up even though it was her claim.
"You will alienate Viserys from our House, and turn us into a pariah. All for what, for glory, for your own pride," she asked sharply and he rose from his chair.
"Viserys has always been alienated from us, from you, from me. He is envious of me, of our House, and wishes to beggar us. House Vealryon has stood by his side loyally for years, we hold three dragons, and yet what does he offer us," Corlys asked sharply.
"NOTHING!" he raged.
"He belittles us for his brother's mistakes, and appoints a novice like Aegon in my stead," and that was something that she could not justify, but still this was far too drastic.
"How long will we let him defy us our rightful place? You think I do this for myself," he asked as he stood face-to-face with her.
"No!" he answered, and she closed her eyes as he continued.
"I do this for our children, for third future, so that they may not suffer as I have, as you have," he added softly as he reached for her face.
"I will smash that Crab Feeder and his fleet, and with the combined wealth of House Rogare and House Velaryon, we shall become so powerful that we shall never ever need to beg the King for our rights. Never again. It will be the King who shall come to us," and she scoffed at that as she pushed away his arms and walked towards the balcony.
For someone so sharp-minded, Corlys could be awfully blind at times.
"Kings do not kneel. They do not beg," she added with a scoff as she gazed at the Velaryon fleet across the shore.
"Even ones as weak as Viserys," she added as she saw Corlys still at those words.
"This is a lost venture, and while I may not be able to stop you, I will have no part in it," she added as she closed her eyes in agony she felt at those words.
"We shall talk when you have seen reason," she added and saw him halt in his step towards her before he turned away and walked towards the door.
"You may have forgotten it, Rhaenys, but I have not," Corlys added as he looked at her from the door.
"I married a Queen. I shall see that honor restored."
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RHAENYRA TARGARYEN
War had always been a foreign concept to her. She knew of it through tales told by Daemon, through the tourneys in the capital and the songs of bards. It had fascinated her, much like the rest of the court for the Kingdom had been at peace for nearly half a century now, but that was not really true.
There had been a war, one waged by Aegon against the Mountain clans of the Vale, and if it was anything like the destruction and decimation she observed right now, she understood well why he never talked of it.
As she walked through Heart's Home had been the last refuge of the rebelling lords, the castle of House Corbyn had been their last stand, and had been under siege for sometime. It was one reason that Aegon wished to leave the capital as quickly as he did, to go and break the siege, and finish the war that Arnold Arryn had started.
She had wished to participate in it, to see the glory of battle herself, and yet er father had forbidden it, making her promise and so she had stayed back as Silverwing had taken to the skies and decimated the rebellion's castle and army in all but a few hours.
The battle had ended in half a day, and the castle had fell. And yet now as she walked through the Halls and smelt the death and fear in the air, saw the faces of the servants and knights that had once sword fealty to Heart's Home she could think of no glorious tales or songs.
"This is war," she asked and Aegon scoffed as he shook his head.
"No, this is not even a fraction of what a war is, what a war could be," he added as he led her to the Great Hall of Heart's Home and as she entered the Hall she saw Lords High and Low there turn to face her, with fear and reverence in their gaze, some even begged for their lives, others only watched as Aegon led her to the Lord's chair.
"This is not how they speak of war, or battle is it?" he asked, and she nodded.
"No, they do not," she replied truthfully.
"War is ugly. It is not child's play, it is death and murder and plunder and rape. It is the worst of us pushed forward, and yet it is a necessity," he added sharply making her turn towards him.
"It is, for if we do not take up the sword for our beliefs, for our rights then who will. And that is why politics is so important, words are so important," and she scoffed.
"I thought we were talking about war," she asked, and he nodded.
"Politics is just a prelude to war, it is a war of words, a war of friends, and a war of interests. It is a war nonetheless, one that we must fight lest we are forced into a war of blades, and arrows and God forbid, dragons," and those were some ominous words as she saw him turn back.
"Come, the battle is won. It is time you met Jeyne," and there was fondness in his tone as he took that name, fondness that she hoped one day would be associated with her name as well.
And so, they rode forth, taking to the skies, until she felt her clothes wetten as Syrax cut through the clouds.
And in the distance, she saw it, towers reaching upto the clouds themselves, cut into the peak of mountains. They gleamed in the Sun like nothing else, and she found herself remembering her mother's words about the beauty of her own home, of the castle where she had grown up.
"There it is," Aegon's voice came from the side.
"The Eyrie," and Silverwing, dived first as Aegon led her around the peaks, and she watched the castle in awe mesmerised by its beauty before she saw a row of knights gathered in a massive yard, and pointed Syrax towards it.
Her dragon followed her command and landed in the yard, as the gathered men stiffened up and as she jumped off of its saddle the knights all knelt down on their knees, as two women stepped forward followed by a servant carrying a basked.
The taller of the two had brownish-black hair and a broad face with grey eyes. She wore a riding dress that resembled more a man's clothes than a woman's flowery dresses. She knew immediately who she was and saw for herself just how false Daemon's words had been.
The Lady of Runestone, Aegon's mother may not be a beauty of Valyria, but she was still a beautiful woman and her confident stride and powerful gaze only added to her beauty, and the girl besides her was much her age, with pearly blue eyes that had seeped sadness much like her own gaze, and light brown hair that reached down her back.
Her blue dress did little to hide her beauty as she strode forward with a small smile, a tiara decorating her locks as she came to a halt infront of her.
"Welcome to the Eyrie, Prince..." and yet, for some reason, she found herself rushing forward as she wrapped her arms around her and felt an all too familiar warmth that she had not felt ever since the death of her dearest friend.
"It is good to see you, cousin Jeyne," she greeted. She felt those arms wrap around her as well, and she felt wetness on her shoulder.
"It is so good to finally see you, Rhaenyra..."
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