DRAGONS REBORN: The Era After SI Ch.32 (Patreon)
Content
Chapter 32
The end of the rebellion would mark the true beginning of the reign of King Rhaegar Targaryen. The firstborn son of King Aerys had won the wars, yet how he would fare in times of peace was a question many had in their minds, for King Aerys’s greatest victories had been won in times of peace with his various reforms instead of wars of which there had been few in his time.
After the end of the War and the rout of the Golden Company on the isle of Grey Gallows, the magisters of the Triarchy would call for a parley, one which the Iron Back would offer to organize. And though the battle of Grey Gallows would mark the end of the clash of swords, the war would only truly end after the infamous parley of Braavos, a parley which would change the very map of the world.
Many in the Kingdoms would balk at this and petition the King to continue his occupation of the Lands beyond the Narrow Sea, yet King Rhaegar would decide against it and would accept the offer of parley.
With the Crown’s army in full control of Stepstones and the cities of Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh, the armies were stretched too thin and the lands held by them too foreign, though that didn’t mean the King was going to let the magisters who had backed Daemon Blackfyre and his rebellion, get away easily.
The return of the Dragons was another factor that troubled the people beyond the Narrow Sea, and secret councils would be held as the free cities feared a replay of Aegon’s conquest, yet this time on their side of the Narrow Sea.
At home, celebrations were in order. The Crown had won the war, and though there had been losses, the Crown had come out of the war stronger and more resilient. The Iron Islands were now under the control of the Royal family, who would keep the isles under its rule, erasing their autonomous status, and appoint Lord Rodrik Harlaw as a governor to the isles.
And many historians remark that the Seven Kingdoms became Six for some time after this measure, though the number would soon become seven once more.
The traditional practices of enslaving thralls and taking the Iron Prince would be abolished, and a strict charter of rules would be enforced in the isles through a unit of the Royal Navy, which would take the isle of Pyke as their permanent base.
Lords High and Low would balk at this and fear the growing power of the Crown, yet the rising stacks of Gold in their treasuries would lower the pain as the Crown turned the once lawless lands into one of the Kingdom's premier trading ports.
The Royal Army would regularly patrol the lands of Riverrun, much to the frustration of Lord Edmure Tully, yet the Lord was powerless to do anything, with no allies to turn to outside and even in his own home where the relation between him and his wife Lady Rosalin Frey was said to become rather cold after the end of the rebellion.
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TYCHO NESTRIS- A key holder of the
The very air of Braavos was tense as the people in the city whispered in secret about the secret parley set to take place in the City. The Purple harbor had been opened to foreign ships for the first time in a hundred years as ships from the land across the Narrow Sea, ships bigger and faster than the ones produced in the famed hulls of Braavos, docked in the harbor. Their sails are decorated with the sigil of a three-headed dragon coiled around itself.
House Targaryen, a legacy of Valyria, had ruled over the Seven Kingdoms for nearly three centuries now. Many thought that the House of the Dragon had been on the decline since the days of the conciliator, with the tragedy of the Dance taking away their symbol of power. And it was true, for nearly a hundred and fifty years after the death of the conciliator, the House had lost more and more of its power and prestige.
Until one man had changed it all. Aerys Targaryen, son of the namesake of the conciliator, the man had been the conciliator come again and had transformed the once back trodden lands of the seven kingdoms to one that now leads the world in several fields.
The powerful in the city had rejoiced at the man’s death, hoping that his death would help curb the progress of the lands of Westeros yet they had been wrong.
And as he stood on the shores of the purple harbor as the men of the Targaryen Royal army step out of their ships, men with hardened eyes, clad in full castle-forged armor, their march symmetrical and of one mind speaking of hours and hours of practice.
Yet as the proposed hundred men stepped out of the ship, there was still no sign of the main envoy of the Seven Kingdoms. He saw some men step off. A fat man dressed in blue instead of the regular black, and a golden pin strapped to his chest so that he was one of the King’s councilors.
Tycho Nestris walked towards the fat, balding man, who had an unusual smile on his face as the soldiers formed into lines behind him.
“You must be the representative from the Iron Bank,” said the man in a joyful tone, and Tycho Nestris nodded.
“Indeed, I am Tycho Nestris, a key holder. Though I am afraid I am afraid you have me at a loss, my lord,” he said, and the man laughed boisterously, and Tycho’s eyes narrowed onto the fat fingers of the man and the various gold rings worn over them.
And he recognized the pattern on one of the rings, a merman holding a trident. The symbol of House Manderly of the North.
“I am Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor, Warden of the White Knife, and have been chosen by the King to serve as his Master of Ships,” the man replied, and Tycho nodded as he once more scanned his surroundings and saw no sign of the King or anyone else from the Royal family descending from the massive vessel.
The fat man seemed to realize what was going through his mind and replied from the side.
“They will be here,” came the reply and he frowned, and as he was about to question how. He stilled as a massive roar, shook the entire harbour, and he saw the plump man smile as the soldiers began to move and clear away the men in the harbor.
A shadow passed over him, and he glanced up and stilled as he saw three massive beasts, dancing over the skies of his city. By now, rumors about the return of the Dragons had spread far and wide. The last he had heard at the end of the war had been that the dragons were the size of a dozen horses, yet the beasts circling the massive domes of the Sealord’s palace were much, much bigger than that.
They had expected this, expected that the Hose of the Dragon would try and make a show of their power. Yet this was beyond their expectations as he watched the three massive beasts descend towards the harbor. The movement of their wings made the dust rise up and he covered his eyes before some of the soldiers stepped forward and covered him as the very ground shook and the three massive beasts landed on the ground one after another.
Their colorings were different, and the three roared together, making him still as a cold chill passed through him.
“Gīda ilagon!” he heard someone mutter, and the dragons calmed down, their slit-like eyes scanning the surroundings as Tycho Nestris stepped forward, ready his servants behind him with bread and salt.
Three people jumped off the massive beasts, clad in light armor, with steel helmets fashioned into a dragon’s head, on their heads as they came together, and Tycho thought of Aegon and his sister wives.
Though the things were different, and only one amongst the three was a woman, and he was mesmerized as the three took off their helms, their silvery blonde hair flowing out, and their godly appearances there for all to see.
Their faces were different yet held some similarities, given their shared blood. He felt a pair of familiar amethyst eyes lock into him as one amongst the three stepped forward.
Rhaegar Targaryen was a grown man, slender in comparison to his father, yet had proven himself to be just as dangerous, of not more, given he held his two siblings to guard this back, with rumors of that the relationship between the three siblings was exceptionally cordial.
“Welcome to Braavos, your grace,” Tycho said as the man believed by many to be the most powerful person in the world stepped forward and took a bite of the ceremonial bread.
“Tell me, have the preparations been made,” questioned the King, his voice sharp and cold, as he stared at him impassively with those amethyst orbs.
And Tycho nodded as he forced himself to ignore the three pairs of slit-like eyes focused on him.
“Yes, King Rhaegar. Everything is ready, but I was hoping that you could rest a bit. The journey would have probably taken a to….” But the man raised his hand and stopped him mid-sentence.
“No, I have not come here to rest. Take us to the parley side, let us see what peace is worth to those magisters!”
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RHAELLA TARGARYEN
The city of Kingslanding was filled with men and women as the preparations for the Royal wedding were underway. The whole realm was in a joyous mood as the Crown prepared for the wedding of its favored Princess. The work of organizing everything had fallen to her, and she could feel her age catching up with her, so she found herself sitting down with her two grandchildren as she took some respite from all the work.
Elia and Lyanna would often join her, but Elia was busy having taken over Rhaegar’s duties of answering the petitions, while Lyanna was resting, as the maesters thought that she might be carrying a child in her belly.
Aemon had married Lyanna Stark earlier in the year, with Rhaegar granting him the seat of Duskendale as his keep. The marriage had been celebrated across the realm, though the ceremony had been somewhat simpler in comparison to the one that was being organized for Daenys.
Aemon and his wife had little appreciation for fanfare, with eh newly wedded couple making the Red Keep remember tales of Baelon and Alyssa Targyen. Lyanna Stark was a Northern beauty and lacked much of the subtleties of the Southern ladies, she had a wild side to her and rode horses, and spoke plainly. Her and Elia had taken much joy as they had watched the ladies at Court splutter around her, shocked by her behavior.
Though she liked the girl, she was honest and, most of all, made Aemon happy, though the same could not be said the faith. The High Septon had been surprised when the girl had refused to take the Seven as her Gods, and in the end, the Crown had to remind the man of the discretions of the Seven in recent times and how the Crown was running out of patience with him and his ilk.
“Buy, why did all three of them have to go? They could have left Aunt Daenys,” complained Aegon, as he sat there pouting with his sister Rhaenys who nodded from the side.
“Yes,” said the eldest of Elia’s children as she turned to face him.
“Why did all three of them have to go? I want to ride with Aunt Daenys,” complained Rhaenys, and had Elia been here to hear those words, the girl would have gotten chastised.
“Me too,” Aegon was quick to add, and she smiled as she saw her two grandchildren bicker about whom Daenys loved more. And to end their bickering and spare her ears, she decided to speak up.
“And why do you think Aegon did your father take both Aemon and Daenys with him she questioned?” as she began to test the boy, he had already begun his lessons with the Maester and Rhaegar, much like Rhaenys, whom she prompted to answer her question as well.
“Because they are going to negotiate with the magisters?” she answered simply, and though she was not wrong this was not the answer to her question.
“But why did all three of them go. The negotiation could have been done by your father alone, or even one of his councilors for that matter. Why did all three of them go?” she questioned again, and saw Rhaenys frown as she tried to think about the reason, in the end she tried to help them.
“What first comes to mind when you hear of three dragons?” she questioned.
“Aegon’s conquest,” Aegon answered quickly, and she saw Rhaenys’s eyes widen as she somewhat realized the true reason Rhaegar had taken both Aemon and Daenys with him.
“Indeed Aegon’s conquest, and what do you think the Magisters and the Braavosi will think when they see three dragons flying over their cities, with ships and men bearing the sigil of the three-headed dragon, docked in their harbors,” she questioned with a raised brow, and Rhaenys was quick to answer.
“It’s a threat, they are threatening them that they will repeat what Aegon did on this side of the Narrow Sea,” and she nodded with a smile.
“Yes,” and Aegon was quick to answer.
“But didn’t we already win, why do we need to threaten them now,” questioned Aegon with a frown.
Because there is another war coming. Because we cannot hold their cities for long. Because we must prepare for the Cold Night.
“The cities we hold are too far from Kingslanding, with the Narrow Sea separating he lands, the Crown cannot hold all the land we have captured,” she answered, as she simplified the answer.
And Aegon nodded, as both him and Rhaenys listened with rapt attention. Aerys would have liked their enthusiasm. He would have explained it better as well.
But he was no longer here, and that was another reason why Rhaegar had left with Aemon and Daenys, to leave a message to Braavos, the bastard daughter of Valyria had longed enjoyed impunity in regards to the actions of the wretched House of Black and White.
It was time they learned that House of the Dragon had had enough.
“The lands we hold have different customs and varied histories, our armies cannot hold them for too long, and so we will give them back to their previous rulers. But the question will be what will they give us back in return,” she answered.
“Are we going to give back all the land?” questioned Rhaenys and Rhaella shook her head.
“No, not all. Your father and uncle had decided on what we will hold and what we will give up,” she answered.
“And what will we get in return?” questioned Aegon, and she smiled as she remembered the hours and hours Rhaegar had spent devising his treacherous plot.
“Their Gold! All of their Gold, for now and for all the times to come.” She answered, and both Rhaenys and Aegon frowned as they failed to realize the meaning behind her words.
Yet they would. They would for if Rhaegar’s plans were to come to fruition, it would be in Aegon’s reign or perhaps in the reign of his own sire.
Before she could say another word a servant entered the Godswood and bowed before speaking up.
“Lord Tywin and his retinue have reached the castle, your grace,” the servant replied and she nodded.
“Take him to my solar, I shall meet with him there.”
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BOOOM! Around a little less than a year has passed since the war. Rhaegar’s making plots of his own, and living up to his position as Aerys’s son.
What will Rhaella discuss with Tywin. And what will the Crown ask of the Magisters.
Have fun reading!
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