paradox - Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 17: The Task at Hand

The next day... 

Rhaenyra sat in a chair as the lords bickered relentlessly back and forth from their seats at the war table in the great hall of Dragonstone. They were soon interrupted by Ser Erryk calling out, 

'The Lord of the Tides! Lord Corlys Velaryon... and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.' Lord Corlys limped slowly down the steps with the aid of his cane, Princess Rhaenys beside him, tall and stoic as she ever was. Corlys came down to the bottom of the steps, surveying the room. 

'My lords,' he said. Rhaenyra stood to greet them. 

'Lord Corlys. It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again,' she said softly. 

'I'm very sorry about your father, Princess. He was a good man,' Corlys replied. 'Where is Daemon?' 

'There were other concerns which demanded the Prince's attention,' Rhaenyra spoke, and there was a hint of anger in her voice, a certain tightness. Corlys gave her a long stare before he moved to the war table. He surveyed the emblems of House Hightower on some of the regions of Westeros, and then the emblems of Rhaenyra's banners on others. 

'Your declared allies?' Corlys asked, gesturing to the emblems. 

'Yes,' Rhaenyra replied. 

'Too few to win a war for the throne,' he remarked with a pointed look towards Rhaenyra. 

'Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon and Stark.'  

'Hope... is the fool's ally,' Corlys remarked. 

'Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me.' 

'As did House Hightower, if I remember.' 

'As did you... Lord Corlys,' Rhaenyra replied sharply. 

'Your father's realm... was one of justice and honour,' Corlys spoke. 'Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand. You have the full support of our fleet and house.' He bowed slightly, as much as the cane would allow. 'Your Grace.' 

'You honour me, Lord Corlys,' Rhaenyra said. She turned to Princess Rhaenys, who gave her a small smile. 'Princess Rhaenys.' There was a beat of silence. 'But, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war's first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.' 

'You do not mean to act?' Corlys asked. 

'Taking caution does not mean standing fast. I wish to know who my allies are... before I send them to war.' 

'The consequence of my near-demise in the Stepstones - is that we now control them. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we further seal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing.' 

'I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself,' Rhaenys spoke, stepping up beside Rhaenyra. 

'When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King's Landing, lay siege to the Red Keep, and force the Greens' surrender,' one of the lords said, from where he was standing on the left side of the war table. 

'If we are to have enough swords to surround King's Landing,' Rhaenyra said, leaning forward on the table, 'we must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End.' 

'I'll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,' the head maester said, going to walk away, but then Prince Jacaerys spoke. 

'We should bear those messages. Dragons can fly faster than ravens, and they're more convincing. Send us.'

'The prince is right, Your Grace,' Corlys remarked. There was a moment of silence as Rhaenyra looked upon her sons. 

'Very well. Prince Jacaerys will fly north,' Rhaenyra spoke. 'First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn, and then to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And... the cost of breaking them.' 

Rhaenyra stood, overlooking the sea, holding two small scrolls in her hands. She turned to greet her boys, Luke and Jace. 

'It's been said... that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than men. The Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms, we must answer to their gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers, not warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven.' One of the members of Rhaenyra's Queensguard brought forth a large, tan-coloured tome, and Lucerys was the first to lay his hand on it. 

'I swear it,' he spoke. Jacaerys was next. 

'I swear it.' 

'Thank you,' Rhaenyra said, and the knight withdrew. She stepped forward, closer to her boys, with the scrolls in hand. 'Cregan Stark is... closer to your age than to mine,' Rhaenyra added. 'I would hope that, as men, you can find some common interest.' He took the scroll from her. 

'Yes, Your Grace,' Jace replied. Luke stepped up. 

'Storm's End is a short flight from here,' she said softly. 'You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys. And... Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He will be honoured to host a prince of the realm - and his dragon. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.' She took his hand and slipped the scroll into it, rubbing his knuckles tenderly. 

'Yes, Mother - Your Grace,' he replied. She rubbed his arm soothingly, and he stepped away from her, going to stand beside Jace. She sighed. 

'Go to it, then.' 

Three dragons flew out from Dragonstone that day. Rhaenys with her dragon, Meleys, to patrol the Gullet and observe the cutting off of sea trade to King's Landing, Jace with his dragon, Vermax, to the Eyrie and then to Winterfell, and lastly, young Luke with his dragon, Arrax - to Storm's End, the seat of Baratheon power. 

But only two would return...