Perzys Ānogār {HOTD}

Hāre Ampā

Rhaenyra no doubt knew the truth by now and the small council had convened to see what the best course of action would be. The Queen Mother was adamant that Rhaenyra not be put to the sword, but Aegon seemed to be on the same page as his wife. If they refuse to bend the knee, they would die, and Aegarax would have a feast upon Caraxes, Syrax and the rest of them. 

There was also the question of which of the great houses would follow their rightful King and who would follow Rhaenyra.  Most of the lords of the great houses would prefer a man on the throne, with legitimate heirs, of this Visenya had no doubt. Her husband and children had the stronger claim, despite oaths swore 20 years ago. 

"The North is a lost cause, there's never been a Stark who broke an oath," Visenya spoke from her seat, left of Aegon. "The Baratheon's however, can be treated with. Lord Borros is not his father, and I believe the right proposal will bring the Stormlands to our side." 

"What do you propose, Your Grace?" the Lord Hand asked from across the table. 

"Lord Borros has four daughters, all unwed. I have a younger brother, not promised to another. Daeron is almost a man grown, he will be needing a wife before long and now he will have the pick of four." 

"Daeron is in Old Town, by the time he gets to Storm's End, Rhaenyra could have sent her own envoy," Her mother replied. The Queen mother looked exhausted, she was grieving her husband and would soon be grieving the death of her childhood friend, if Visenya had anything to do with it. 

"We'll send Aemond. He'll take Vhagar and fly to Storm's End. That way, if Rhaenyra sends her own messenger, we'll still have the upper hand." 

The council members nodded in agreement, the Stormland's were essential. The late Lord Baratheon had sworn fealty to Rhaenyra twenty years ago, but Lord Borros was not his father, nor as honourable as a Stark. 

"That's settled then," Aegon concluded, smiling at Aemond, "Do pick a pretty one for him." 

"We must offer Rhaenyra peace terms." Alicent leaned forward, looking at her children. "Your father would not wish for bloodshed." 

"What terms would you have us offer, mother?" Visenya asks, "she won't accept anything we propose, you know that." 

"We will offer them anyway." 

"Simple, bend the knee or die." Aegon smiled. 

"Let her keep Dragonstone, Jace can inherit it after her and Little Lord Strong will inherit Driftmark. We'll offer her trueborn sons places at court, keep them here so they won't rebel in the future. Finally, I won't let Aegarax feast on Caraxes abnormally thin neck, if Daemon gives me Dark Sister. I was named after Visenya, the sword should be mine." Visenya looked to her Grandfather who smiled slightly, proud that she had taken to being Queen so quickly. 

"Fine terms, Your Grace," he nodded, "Though might I suggest we have a new Valyrian Steel sword forged for Daemon in exchange for Dark Sister, instead of threatening his dragon." 

"Very well," she conceded, "I'll set off for Dragonstone when Aemond leaves for Storm's End." 

"You will not!" Her mother argued. 

"And who do you propose to send? If Aegon goes they'll kill him before he speaks a word. My dragon is bigger than Caraxes and Syrax combined, they won't get the chance to hurt me." 

"I will go," Otto spoke before Alicent could argue, "I'll take a dozen guards and sail to Dragonstone." 

"They'll kill you too! Do you think a dozen guards can protect you from a dragon?" Visenya argued, looking at her grand sire like he was mad, "I'll fly with you and I'll hear no arguments, I'll not have the Hand of the King murdered before my husband has even been King for a week."