The Game of Cyvasse

The Stranger

Aegon sat within the solar of Maidenpool's Castle, surrounded by his trusted advisors and commanders. With quill in hand and parchment before him, he read aloud the letter he had meticulously crafted, its words carrying the weight of his claim.

"To the noble lords of the Seven Kingdoms,

I am Aegon of House Targaryen, the sixth of my name, the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. I bear the blood of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, the true heir to King Aerys II Targaryen and the rightful ruler of Westeros.

At Maidenpool, I stand with a mighty army, a force bolstered by the support of Dorne and my uncle, Prince Doran Martell and the Golden Company. Our alliance grows stronger, and I extend my hand to you, beseeching you to join our righteous cause.

I come not seeking vengeance, but justice. I offer amnesty for past transgressions and the restoration of your lost lands and titles. In return, I ask for your fealty and unwavering loyalty. Together, we can cast aside the Baratheons and Lannisters, whose treachery stole the lives of my mother and sister, and usurped the throne that is rightfully mine.

Choose wisely, for the consequences of defiance are dire. Should you stand against me, your lands, your titles, your wealth, and your very lives will be forfeit. I will visit you with fire and blood, as my ancestors before me."

With the letter complete, Aegon rolled the parchment and sealed it with wax, bearing his signet ring. He handed it to Maester, who bowed before accepting the task.

"Dispatch copies of this letter to every castle and town in Westeros," Aegon commanded, his voice carrying the authority of a king. "Utilize every raven at our disposal."

"As you command, sire," Maester Keln responded, leaving the solar accompanied by a contingent of guards.

Aegon's eyes shifted to his council, gauging their reactions and seeking their insights.

"Are we sure we want to mention King Aerys? His name brings unwanted memories," Lysono Maar said, alienated from his usual playfulness.

"He was a king. Wasn't he?" Ser Tristan Rivers gruffly replied, scowling at everyone and no one in particular.

At the moment, the dream came to Aegon, blue eyes staring at him from the dark specters of the winter wind. Once again, he saw the blue rose, its petals breaking through the ice, flames from a blazing pyre melting away, accompanied by the sound of the most powerful roar he had ever heard in his life. Someone died, he knew, wrapped in a strange spiral of a dream where context was simply known. Then he knew someone was born, three lives; the dragon has three heads, a voice spoke, followed by the thunderous roar of a storm, a vision of red mountains, and the sounds of the city. The dragon has three heads, the words echoed in Aegon's mind every time he looked at the comet.

"Aerys stays," he snapped himself out of his thoughts, "if we accept such a stance, we accept that someone had the right to usurp his throne. My family's throne." My throne, Aegon thought. Many eyes were in the room, but only one pair followed him. Griff saw his dream, as Griff always saw. He didn't ask, but he knew. Yet Aegon couldn't falter; he couldn't be burdened by others' doubts and desires. He remembered the wolf lady who longs for home, but her longing is death.

When he saw her by the fountain the other day, he felt the yearning for a woman's passion, a different yearning from the occasional ones he quenched by laying with important women. Once again, he was in the bed of the daughter of the Sealord of Braavos, which was seeking a crown between his legs; he was in the bed with the Red Priestess, a fervent follower of fire god R'hllor, who saw the doom of the Seven Gods of Westeros between his legs; in the bed with the first actress of the Great Theatre of Pentos, seeking gold coins from the blue-haired heir of Illyrio Mopatis between his legs.
No, this is an old yearning, the one that dimmed with the departure of Eira from this world. You are a king, not a boy, he scolded himself, control yourself, Aegon.