Fire and Blood

Chapter 28: Make the Next Move

King's Landing ― Small Council chamber...

Viserys attended another meeting of his small council. As his advisors debated, the king held a small, violet stone made of marble the stonemasons had spent hours repairing. Although fixed, there were still small cracks that remained. Smooth to the touch, but unmistakably noticeable. Each member of the small council was given a different colored stone for their assigned roles: copper for the Master of Coin, indigo for the Master of Ships, white for the Grand Maester, black for the Master of Laws, almond for the Hand of the King, and gold for the reigning monarch. But this marble, the one he continues to roll in the palm of his hand, was meant for the Master of Whisperers. The seat remained vacant. Try as Ser Otto might, no candidate selected could figure out the complex security and decoding system nor effectively manage the office of the spymaster's network.

The king couldn't help but lower his head in shame. Viserys couldn't believe the things he had said, for not having any faith in his eldest son. The things he said, the accusations hurled only to be proven innocent moments afterward... He soon realized that he was made a fool of. His second wife Beatrice was either misinformed or deliberately lied to him about Aeonar. How could he fall for it? The king felt incredibly guilty for all the things he did. All the painful memories of the past came back to haunt him, a reminder of how close he and his son once were before their relationship deteriorated rapidly.

ooOoo

Flashback: 13 years ago (103 AC)...

"Father? What's that you're making?" an eight-year-old Aeonar asked curiously.

Viserys put his tools down. "Oh, this? This is a... a model I've been working on for a while now."

"What is it?"

"It's a replica of what the Valyrian Freehold looked like at the height of its power. Look here," he pointed before hoisting his son up onto his lap. "The Valyrian capital was built into a volcano, much like Dragonstone. The dragonlords, the highest of the nobility, lived here," he pointed to another spot, "the volcanic face, closest to the source of their magic and power."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. And this was the Anogrion."

"The what?"

"It's where the bloodmages worked their craft."

"Ooooh. So you made all this?"

"It took some time. And there's still plenty to be worked on. Much of our history has been lost since the Doom wiped out Old Valyria. I'm only going off of what we have left in our records and provide the plans for the stonemasons."

"Do you think we can make another Freehold, father?"

"Oh that would depend, my son, whether you speak of the Freehold at its height or at its fall. Over a thousand dragons, a navy large enough to span the seas of the world. The glory of Old Valyria will never be seen again."

"Can I help?"

"What?"

"Can I help you with this model, father?"

"W-Well, I..."

"Pleeeeeeease?~"

"Hahaha! All right, all right. No need to beg with those innocent puppy eyes, Aeonar."