"It's my duty, my God-given birthright and my crown."
- Mary, Queen of Scots
In which Valyria Targaryen returns to the Red Keep and becomes a key player in the game for the Iron Throne.
....or....
In which there isn't a person in the Se...
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132 AC, Dragonstone
The door to the Chamber of the Painted Table slammed shut after the last man walked out, leaving the Queen and Prince alone. Valyria tapped her fingers against the map in front of her, observing her husband with a narrowed gaze. Remaining silent for a few seconds, she waited for him to speak first since he clearly had so much to say in the presence of her Council.
But he said nothing. Had she not known him so well, she could have mistaken his silence for shame. After having known him her entire life, she knew that at best he tried to contain his anger. An anger that right now had shifted from the Hightowers to her because at the moment she stood between him and the revenge he desperately needed.
"Does the promise of war excite you?" Valyria finally asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. Whereas she'd always strived towards peace, Daemon thrived in war. As a renowned warrior – not to mention one of the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms – he felt far more alive in the middle of a battlefield than sitting in a council meeting discussing politics.
"You cannot bend the knee to the Hightowers," Daemon said instead. He couldn't believe that she even for a second seemed to be considering their offer. "They stole your birthright," he argued vehemently.
"I have never once claimed that I plan on bending the knee to them," Valyria circled the table, approaching her husband slowly like one would with a wild animal. "But there are always more than two choices. If you could take the Iron Throne without putting Otto Hightower's head on a spike, would you?" she asked him. "Or are you so blinded by your hatred that you can't even consider that there might be a choice that doesn't include dragons fighting dragons."
"How can you not be angry?" Daemon asked her in disbelief. "They have stolen your throne yet you indulge their pathetic attempts to negotiate."
"Of course I am angry," Valyria snapped, losing her patience with everyone questioning why she hadn't taken Ānogara to King's Landing and burnt the city to the ground yet. It felt like everyone thought her weak for not recklessly declaring war. "But should I declare war simply because I am angry?"
"No," Daemon replied, closing the distance between them so they stood only inches apart, forcing Valyria to tilt her head in order to meet his gaze. "Because it's your duty as Queen to crush rebellion."
"A Queen's oaths go far beyond personal ambitions," Valyria retorted coldly. "Believe me when I say that it's tempting to put every Hightowers' head on a spike for what they have done. But my foremost duty is to protect the realm. To ensure what is best for my people. That is why I am hesitating – not because I am considering bending the knee to the Greens, because if there is a way to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I will take it."
