THE RED COUNCIL
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132 AC, Dragonstone
"Queen Valyria Targaryen," Daemon announced loudly as she entered the Chamber of the Painted Table where the Red Council stood gathered already, awaiting their new ruler. "First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
Everyone else in the room simultaneously bowed their head for their Queen who stopped in front of Dorne's side of the map. Across from her, by the northern border, Daemon stood with his hand resting on Dark Sister. He finished by saying, "Your Grace."
The difference between the Chamber of the Painted Table now compared to earlier that same day was palpable. The torches hanging on the walls had been lit while all the dusty pawns representing armies and different houses had been located and unpacked. All the candles beneath the table created an orange hue that lit up the borders, waters roads and castles that had been carved into the stone.
Valyria imagined this is what it must have been like when Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters planned the invasion of Westeros. And now over a century later, the dynasty they fought to create might get torn down from the inside. How could they expect a united Seven Kingdoms when House Targaryen lacked unity?
As she stepped closer to the table, Valyria nodded her head for Rhaena, Baela, Aegon and Cyrenna to come closer. Her two step-daughters both stood by their grandmother but didn't hesitate to follow her command; Rhaenys offered Valyria a small encouraging smile but remained in the background. Meanwhile, Cyrenna's arm remained locked with Aegon's as the two approached the table.
The attention of every single person in the room remained on her so to start the meeting she asked, "What is our standing?"
"With the dornish guards included we have forty knights, a hundred and fifty crossbowmen and four hundred men-at-arms," Daemon explained, far more prepared for this than she could ever be. She also supposed he had some time to rally their defences when she was in the birthing chamber. "Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I'll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers."
Years had passed since Daemon was Lord Commander of the City Watch yet he still held strong allies within the small army tasked to guard the capital. His brutal yet effective ways to clean up the city made him popular amongst his men there. Not to mention how he during those years often drank and paid visits to brothels alongside those men.
"We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon," Maester Gerardys, who had served as Dragonstone's maester for many years, told her which prompted Rhaena and Baela to place out a few of the pawns on the map to represent their allies.
"My Lady Mother was a Stark and my daughter is the current Lady of Winterfell," Valyria said, having faith that Cregan and Elara wouldn't turn their backs on them in a time of need. "The Arryns might remain neutral," Valyria noted. "Rhaenyra is their kin so I think they hold little love for me and even less for the Geens."
"Riverrun was always a close friend to King Viserys, Your Grace," Gerardys said. "With Prince Daemon's acquiescence, I have already sent ravens to Lord Grover," he assured the Rogue Prince, who didn't blink under his wife's sharp gaze. Valyria didn't have to glare for him to realise that she wasn't pleased by him disobeying her command about not taking any action while she was abed.
"I'm going to treat with him myself," Daemon announced without breaking his mask of indifference. The certainty of his tone suggested that it was a statement rather than a question towards her.
"Lord Grover is an old man who according to my little birds," Valyria sent a slight smirk over to Serra, "is bedridden with a failing health. He openly supported Viserys' claim at the Great Council and is stubbornly committed to his principles. I'm certain he won't support my claim should it come to a war. Luckily, he's too aged to act – which is why I suggest we treat with Ser Elmo instead. He rules Riverrun in his grandfather's name and at least I believe he could be swayed to our advantage."
Valyria knew that despite being the Queen, many of the men that supported her didn't trust her abilities to lead them into a war. Maybe they were right to some extent because she lacked the experience men like her husband had in fighting wars. But if she could help it they'd never get to a full scale war at all and she'd be damned before she allowed them to act as they wished.
"Lord Loran will remember his oath," Valyria continued and she silently added to herself 'or Cecily will make sure he does'. With one of her dearest friends the Lady of Highgarden, she hoped the most fertile kingdom would come to her aid if called for. "Most of the Reach will follow him, except for those loyal to the Hightowers."
"What of Storm's End and Casterly Rock?" Lord Simon Staunton asked.
"We should send word to Lord Jason," Valyria said, not sure how her former good-brother would act. Something told her she didn't quite have his support. Tyland could definitely be persuaded in her favour but Jason might be too arrogant to bend the knee to a woman that once upon a time only had been his older brother's young wife. "To remind him of who the rightful heir is. The same should be sent to Lord Borros."
Not capable of ignoring the giant elephant in the room, Valyria turned to Rhaenys. She didn't want to put her cousin in an uncomfortable position but chances were that if she didn't ask, Daemon would in a less than kind way. "Is there any news from Lord Corlys?" she asked instead of openly questioning if they had the support of Driftmark.
With Corlys still not back from his war, Rhaenys ruled the Tides but with Rhaenyra there trying to push for her son to be more involved. After the way the younger princess had acted lately Valyria wasn't sure how she'd take the news of her father's death. Valyria considered sending a raven with her condolences to Driftmark since it was the least she could do to a daughter mourning the death of her last parent.
"He sails for Dragonstone," Rhaenys announced, much to her surprise. She'd expected him to sail home after so many years away.
"To declare for his Queen," Daemon said in a tone that dared Rhaenys to say otherwise. She didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed by how determined he seemed to be when it came to rallying support for her.
"The Velaryon fleet is in my husband's yoke," Rhaenys replied calmly, not even a bit affected by the veiled threat in the prince's words. "He decides where they sail."
"We shall all pray for Lord Corlys's safe return and his good health," Valyria said, deciding to save Rhaenys from further having to defend herself. No port on the Narrow Sea would dare make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet; with them as an ally, Valyria could continue building an army large enough that a war could be avoided by the mere threat of it.
"What of Dorne?" Daemon asked, shocking Valyria who'd not expected him to ask such a question. At least not in front of their entire council.
"Dorne has not bent the knee," Valyria reminded him, noticing the dark glare a few of the dornishmen in the room sent her husband's direction. "They have no part in this war." She knew what Daemon wanted. For her to use her position as Princess Regent, as the mother of the Prince of Dorne, to rally the dornish army.
Tactically, it would give them an advantage in this war. Yet it was suicide when it came to the support her son needed to hold onto in Dorne. She could not sacrifice the loyalty she'd gathered amongst the noble families in Dorne, her late husband's legacy and her son's kingdom for her own throne.
"What of our enemies?" she changed the subject, keeping her tone firm enough to signal for her husband not to mention Dorne again.
"Our friendship with the Lannisters is questionable," Daemon stated. Ever since Valyria married Lucian, he resented all of them and never hesitated to express it.
"Then we will have to expect the possibility of not finding allies west of the Golden Tooth," Valyria said, understanding that while it was worth sending words to the Lannisters, she shouldn't expect too much.
"The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace," Daemon told her, struggling slightly to not fully take command. In these situations, he was used to being the one in control. Not the one having to ask someone else to make the final decision.
"Please forgive my bluntness, Your Grace," Lord Bartimos spoke for the first time, "but talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria: Dragons!"
Promise me Valyria, that you won't let the dragons' dance...
Promise me, Valyria...
"The Greens have dragons as well," Valyria pointed out, knowing very well it was a weak defence but her father's words echoed in her mind.
"They have two adults, by my count: Dreamfyre and Vhagar," Daemon pointed out. "We have Ānogara, Caraxes, Vermithor, Cannibal, Sunfyre and Meleys," he listed the dragons in their possession, earning a pointed look from Rhaenys at the mention of her own dragon. "Our children have Dāryx, Grey Ghost, Cyrion, Tessarion, Moondancer, Ēbreys."
"Ēbreys is smaller than our hunting dogs so unless we plan on fighting a war for over a decade, he'll not give us much of an advantage," Valyria said. "Dāryx, Grey Ghost and Tessarion don't have riders old enough to ride them during a war."
"Should you not think we have enough dragons already, there are still unclaimed dragons," Daemon continued. "Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Silverwing dwells on the Dragonmont – still riderless."
"I am well aware of the power the dragons we already have entails," Valyria told her husband, and the others who listened to their conversation. "Even Vhagar could not stand a chance against Ānogara, Caraxes, Vermithor and the Cannibal together. But we can't just unleash them on King's Landing and allow thousands to die."
Daemon clenched his jaw in annoyance, "Now – we need a place to gather," he went back into the role of a commander, rounding the Painted Table, "a toehold large enough to house a sizable host." He placed a pawn by Gods Eye. "Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King's Landing with the dragons and we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns."
Aegon, who stood by Valyria, raised an eyebrow at his uncle's choice of words. Once again, Valyria contained an annoyed glare at how her husband seemed to have the entire war planned out. Before she could question it, however, Ser Erryk interrupted, "Your Grace," he said, "a ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."
The audacity of the Hightowers to not only attempt to usurp her throne but to also change the banner of House Targaryen to also symbolise their own house. Valyria wondered if Otto and Alicent knew that Aegon – their rightful King – currently stood on Dragonstone when they sailed around carrying his supposed banners.
"Alert the watchtowers," Daemon commanded without missing a beat. "Sight the skies." With that he grabbed Dark Sister and walked out without another word. All of the guards followed his lead, preparing to welcome the Hightowers with weapons raised.
"Egg, do you want to stay here or come with us?" Valyria wondered gently. Facing his family so soon after fleeing the city might not be easy for him.
"I'll come with you," Aegon assured her determinately. "It will undermine their attempt to take the throne even more if I am seen standing by you."
.•° ✿ °•.
Daemon Targaryen, joined by their three Kingsguards and a detachment of Dragonstone's garrison, walked down the bridge leading to Dragonstone, intercepting the Greens who were headed up to the castle. The scene reminded the Rogue Prince of all those years ago when he'd stolen a dragon egg and planned on marrying his former paramour – only now he stood there as a representative of the rightful Queen rather than a wronged brother.
Behind the Kingsguards, Aegon Targaryen stood, still dressed in his brown cloak with the hood pulled up to hide his silver hair. He tried keeping out of view from his grandfather until they knew exactly why Otto Hightower accompanied by Ser Arryk Cargyll and Grand Maester Orwyle had decided to come to the island.
The Prince paced back and forth as the Green's negotiation party approached them but once they were only two horse-lengths away, he stopped to face them with a cold mask of indifference. Otto Hightower said, "I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms."
A slight twitch of the lip — not noticeable for the former Hand now that the sky had dusked — was the only indication of Daemon's amusement at hearing the former Hand declare for a King that already had sworn fealty to Valyria. With only a day passed since Viserys's passing, Aegon's disappearance were likely still kept under wraps since it would be a great blow against the Hightower's attempt to seize the throne.
"I've been directed to deliver her message only to Princess Valyria," Otto Hightower continued, gaze jumping between the men in search of said woman, only for him to reach the conclusion that she was absent. "Where is the Princess?"
As she'd heard the question, Ānogara let out a thundering roar as she dived down from the clouds just above the castle. The scarlet red dragon hovered above both parties, moving her wings to send gusts of winds against the men. Daemon looked up at his wife with a proud smirk, watching as she directed Ānogara to land further up his side of the bridge.
Queen Valyria created quite an image seated upon her dragon, the Conqueror's crown resting proudly on her head. Ānogara released another thundering roar, making the Greens flinch in fear. Other than the Targaryens, no man in Westeros wished to come too close to the fire breathing beasts.
Valyria gracefully slid down the wing and walked down to where the men stood. "Princess Valyria," Otto addressed her as she stopped beside her husband, eye twitching at the sight of the crown resting on her brow.
"Otto, what an unwelcome surprise," Valyria drawled, taking his misuse of her title one step further by simply not giving him one at all. "Though, I should not complain. It's not often traitors to the realm appear so willingly."
"King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms," Otto ignored her comment and continued like he'd rehearsed the speech the entire journey across Blackwater Bay. "Acknowledge Aegon as King and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne and return the King's brother, Prince Daeron, to his mother. In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your trueborn son, Jaeron, upon your death and your sons will be given places of high honour at court: Viserys as the King's cupbearer. Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent."
"I would rather feed my son to the dragons than have him carry cups for any usurper cunt you call king," Daemon sneered in distaste, earning a quick side eye from his wife. She too found the offer insulting yet she'd never have dreamt of phrasing a denial like that.
"This truly is a most generous offer from Aegon," Valyria smirked, "you really have thought of everything, Egg," she called over her shoulder, prompting Aegon to lower his hood and step into view, confidently sauntering over to her side.
"I do possess a great wisdom and desire for peace," Aegon nodded tauntingly, enjoying the shock displayed on his grandfather's face. "But I can't recall ever coming up with these terms, My Queen."
"Oh, could it be that the former Hand is mistaken, and you're not calling yourself King Aegon?" Valyria asked in mock surprise. "That would be very embarrassing."
"I don't blame you grandfather," Aegon said, "age does that to the mind." Never before had he dared speaking to his grandfather in that manner. But for the first time, he didn't fear Otto Hightower.
With a hateful scorn directed towards his grandson, Otto said, "If this useless fool does not wish to claim his birthright, it will pass down to his younger brother, Prince Aemond," he straightened up, trying to appear more confident even though he'd been made a fool. "And then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon – Houses that have also received and are at present, considering generous terms from their King."
"And to be clear, which King is that now?" Valyria asked with a snort. "I'm sure it will be mortifying to send new offers to all these houses, being forced to explain how you couldn't even write the right king's name in the first place," she shared a look with Aegon who didn't bother covering up his chuckle. "And let's not forget where House Stark's loyalty lies and that the other Houses will have to remember who King Jaehaerys and King Viserys both named as their successor."
A moment of silence followed when Otto Hightower tried to stare down the younger woman but to no avail. She showed absolutely no indication of fear. So he tried a different approach, "No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace," he said, speaking with a much gentler tone as he tried to manipulate her. "That is what you've always advocated for, is it not? Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer-"
"She can have her answer now, stuffed in her father's mouth along with his withered cock," Daemon snapped, having had enough. "Let's end this mummer's farce," he unsheathed Dark Sister and the men behind him followed his lead while Otto's men responded in the same way. "Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure myself."
"No," Valyria said, fixing her husband with a warning glare. His nostrils flared in anger at being stopped from killing Hightower but he lowered Dark Sister to the ground, gritting his teeth to contain his murderous impulses.
"I suggest you take my message back to Alicent and whoever you two decide to call King," Valyria turned back to the former Hand. "If you all bend the knee to me I'll be merciful and forget this treason. You are a clever man, Otto, or you would not have served as Hand to two kings but right now you're blinded by ambition to the point where you can't even see that this is a war that you can't win. King's Landing will have my answer in the morrow, I expect the same from you."
.•° ✿ °•.
Valyria truly thought the Hightowers' offer was utter rubbish. They had no ground to stand on. Their claim relied on Aegon being the firstborn son of Viserys, which might have had some bearing if they were trying to steal the throne from Rhaenyra. But Valyria's primary right to the throne relied on her being Jaehaerys's chosen heir.
Had Aegon been the rightful heir, him renouncing his own claim to the throne would have passed to Aemond. But due to the uncertainty of Alicent's firstborn sons claim it would be a farce to put the crown on a second son of a King that openly admitted that he usurped the crown.
Valyria couldn't claim to consider Otto and Alicent's proposal. It was utter ludicrous for her to bend the knee to Aemond — no matter how dear he was to her — and the remainder of their offer was just plain demeaning. Yet for someone who'd spent her entire life trying to do what is best for the realm, she couldn't deny that small part of her that wished she simply could take their offer of peace.
What held her back from doing so wasn't her own wish for power — even though it would be a lie to claim she hadn't dreamt of taking the Iron Throne a few times — it was her father's words repeating inside her head.
She could acknowledge the chance that it had all simply been a silly dream conjured by her pregnant brain. If it hadn't felt so real. Her father's every feature and even his scent was just like she remembered him. And those ice blue eyes that made her cold even after she'd woken up — it simply had to be real.
"It's no easy thing for a man to be a dragonslayer," Daemon mused later that evening as they once again stood gathered around the Painted Table. The candles underneath the table seemed to burn even brighter now that the sun was long gone and darkness had fallen over Dragonstone. "But dragons can kill dragons. And have." Turning to his wife, he said, "The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than the Greens."
"When dragons fly to war, everything burns," Valyria reminded her husband, broken out of her thoughts by his plans of mass destruction. "I have no intention of ruling over a kingdom of ash and bone."
Promise me, Valyria...
"Are you considering the Hightowers' terms, Your Grace?" Lord Celtigar asked, appalled by the mere thought of it.
"As Queen, my duty is to the realm, Lord Bartimos," Valyria replied calmly. "It is to ensure peace and unity. A Queen that sits the Iron Throne no matter the cost is not a Queen I wish to be."
"That's your father talking," Daemon told her, staring down at the table as he tried to reign in his growing irritation. Swiftly turning around he walked around the table. "Your father and Viserys."
"My father is long gone — and Viserys too," Valyria said, trying to ignore how her father's words continued to repeat like a mantra in her head. "I was named the King's successor to defend the realm, not cast it headlong into war."
"Well, the enemy have declared war!" Daemon shouted, losing the battle against his temperament. He turned to face her from across the room as he angrily exclaimed, "What are you gonna do about it?"
During the seconds that followed, the fire crackling was the only thing heard inside the chamber. The lords and knights looked expectantly between the Queen and her husband who were locked in an intense staring match.
Since the news of Viserys's death reached Dragonstone, he'd gone rogue several times. She understood his anger. His frustrations. In Daemon's mind, the Greens had murdered his brother, stole his wife's throne and robbed his son of his birthright. No one lived long after a small slight against the Rogue Prince and honestly it was a miracle Daemon had yet to fly to King's Landing and burn the city to the ground in pure rage.
But when he openly questioned her like this and made decisions behind her back it undermined her authority. It's not that she wanted to be some tyrant that never listened to anyone else but she could never be taken seriously as a Queen if she allowed her husband to do whatever he wished. And she definitely would lose respect if she simply let it pass that Daemon openly yelled at her in public.
Valyria's unwavering gaze locked on her husband as she ordered, "Clear the room."