Bab 14: Chapter 12 - The Dragon Soars
Chapter XII: The Dragon Soars
2 BC
Dragonstone
Twenty-seven years. For twenty-seven long years has Aegon lived; for many years he has plotted and schemed his plans for his lifelong goal of conquest, eyeing the one prize his ancestors saw fit to ignore and deride as a land of savage barbarians: Westeros.
For a century his ancestors greedily eyed the continent of Essos, seeking to bring the entire continent to heel on the backs of their dragons, and while not unviable, Westeros was literally on their doorstep while Essos required a longer ship route to supply any new conquests. Furthermore, conquering Essos meant taking cities like Astapor and Yunkai which had literally no thriving industries of their own save the slave industry, and thus too untenable to truly assimilate considering their limited manpower and resources.
And Westeros, despite being less civilised and advanced than Essos, possessed thriving industry and a leal workforce who needed only jobs to perform. Blacksmithing, agriculture, transportation, manufacture, all the necessary tools to support conquest and gradual assimilation.
Now, at long last, at the helm of an army ten thousand strong, he will bring all of Westeros to heel and build a New Valyria to fulfil his ancestral ambitions.
"Hear me, soldiers of House Targaryen!"
Mounted atop Balerion the Black Dread, Aegon Targaryen cut an inspiring and dominating figure for his troops to see, and they all stood at attention in their black armour, gleaming like an army of polished dragonglass statues.
"A century ago, our ancestors fled the Doom of Valyria, claiming safe sanctuary on a measly few islands to scrape by as all of Valyrian civilisation crumbled and Essos tore itself apart in the Century of Blood," Aegon began, "Kingdoms crumbled, and merchants and slavers took over as the new kings of their petty little Kingdoms. They claim to not be kings, but what are they but kings who live in luxury, bought by the blood, sweat and tears of their followers and slaves?"
Aegon derived satisfaction in seeing the looks of derision among the soldiers; let those fake kings and coin-counters feud over petty differences. House Targaryen shall reap the fruitful harvest their grubby hands shall never touch.
"A century we spent building our homes; a century we spent planting our roots on these islands, preserving the last bastion of Valyrian civilization; a century we spent in preparation for the day we go to war once again! Where others name it the Century of Blood, I call it the Century of Restoration!"
All the Valyrian troops let out a jubilant roar, thumping their boots and raising their weapons high in the sky.
"Today, I declare the beginning of the Conquest of Westeros - my Conquest!" Aegon shouted, "Today is the day all you men march to bring honour and glory to the New Valyria, to House Targaryen, to your friends and families! Today is the day you crush these worthless nobles who do nothing but bicker and feud over the smallest of differences and problems - no better than their Essosi counterparts! Today, stand with me, your Lord Conqueror! Stand with me, Men of New Valyria!"
And Man and Dragon alike roared in affirmation of their Lord and Master's desire to dominate, to crush everyone else who would see them crushed beneath the iron heel of humiliation.
"In the name of the Fourteen [1] and of House Targaryen, let fly the dragons of war!"
IIOII
A few days prior…
The Chamber of the Painted Table, a chamber at the top floor of Stone Drum - the central Keep of Dragonstone - was a huge and spacious chamber with four windows overlooking four directions: North, South, East and West. In the middle was a huge table carved of wood, a depiction of Westeros painted upon it with no borders shown - as if it was already one realm in the Conqueror's mind.
Gathered at the Painted Table were Aegon, his Sister-Queens and his advisors, Orys Baratheon prime among them.
"Lords and Ladies, we have gathered here today to discuss our plan of going forward with the conquest of Westeros," Aegon stated, leaning on the Painted Table, "As we discussed earlier, our first target shall be the Hundred Petty Kings of Blackwater Bay; several houses have already agreed to pledge fealty to us in exchange for protection, and we must subdue the others preying upon them like greedy leeches. Once we've established a stable forward outpost, we move on to the Riverlands under the tyrannical iron grip of King Harren Hoare, who even now continues to oppress the Smallfolk and violate its womenfolk."
Aegon took a deep breath as his advisors listened.
"When word of our conquest spreads, rebel houses in the Riverlands will undoubtedly wish to seek alliance with us to get out from under the iron boot of their tyrant King, House Tully leading them. The plan is to accept their alliance and have them work to liberate their homeland from the Ironborn before we move upon the Iron Islands themselves to put down the Ironborn menace, while at the same time moving on the Stormlands with Orys at the helm. Thus concludes the initial phase of the Conquest. Any questions or opinions you wish to put forth?"
Visenya was the first to answer, "We cannot trust the Riverlords; you say they are rebels, brother, but is it not so convenient that the moment our conquest starts to take root, they shall seek alliance with us? That is what makes me most suspicious, considering their history of longstanding bickering - the only Andal Kingdom to never truly remain united for long."
"You suspect such fools would remain uncommitted to the cause, that to seek alliance with them is foolhardy, when the power of our dragons is no lie?" Aegon countered, "Even the Rhoynish of old did not dare openly confront our dragons, especially when Garin the Great led his own armies to their doom."
"Brother is right, and though the old houses are undoubtedly set in their ways, the power of dragons will keep them in line," Rhaenys interjected, "Same too with the Iron Islands, although for them we shall reserve the much heavier hand."
"Since they love to raid and pillage, we give them the same treatment and torch every single village, town and castle on the Iron Islands," Visenya shrugged, "That will cow the Ironborn into line and dissuade them from any future rebellions against us. The Drowned Priests, too."
"Such a religion should not be preached anywhere, and they will be an impediment to securing our rule over such an errant province," Aegon nodded sagely and smilingly, "And unlike the Faith of the Seven, the Cult of the Drowned God has no other support outside its homeland, so any directed extermination towards them shall face no resistance elsewhere. Next, we move to the Stormlands, which my brother Orys is in charge of taking. Orys, mind sharing the next part of the plan?"
Orys nodded and moved to point at the Stormlands region.
"As we know, Argillac faces stiff resistance from his own nobility due to his only daughter Argella being his heir apparent, and considering Westeros's staunchly patriarchal and chauvinistic attitudes…" He trailed off momentarily, "I believe we can turn this into our advantage."
"Indeed, and that is where you come in, Orys," Aegon smiled.
"Quite so, brother," Orys smiled back, "Brother, as we discussed, you shall propose to Argillac a marriage between me and Argella, and Argillac being the arrogant, proud and temperamental king he is, will refuse it and declare war on us, giving us the perfect excuse to end him. When he dies, Argella will attempt to resist us to the end, and that is where the cornered nobles will attempt to sell her out in exchange for their lives. I'll take over the rest from there."
"I know I can count on you, Orys," Aegon patted Orys on the back.
"That leaves the other regions," Visenya continued, "The Westerlands, the Vale, the Reach, the North, and finally Dorne."
"The Westerlands and the Reach, for all their vaunted strength, cannot hope to match our dragons. The Vale, either, and they field smaller armies than the aforementioned states. The North? Not worth mentioning," Rhaenys shrugged, "Now Dorne, there's a wildcard we never anticipated."
"Shouldn't you be glad he is on our side, sister?" Questioned Visenya.
"I am, and yet there is something about him I cannot place," Rhaenys answered, "It's as if I'm looking at a creature resembling a sheep, but donning the coat and claws of a dragon."
"A very strange creature indeed, but perhaps not truly an apt description of him," Aegon interjected, sounding unconcerned, "However, there is no need to be overly concerned; he is concerned wholly and only with Dorne, and nothing else. He has to be, given the kind of risks he is taking in allying with us."
"If Arin is in the picture, I suspect he will aim for the same thing he gave to all those who opposed him or posed a threat: The complete and utter extinction of ruling noble houses and their replacement with his own," Orys contemplated, adopting a thoughtful expression, "Not only will he earn the resentment of all Dornish who dislike his ways, but also the suspicion and fear of countless other nobles who fear his penchant for control."
"Which, in turn, will force him to be more loyal to us," Aegon smiled, "I have to admit, it's nice when a potential wildcard does things that benefits us all, even if he does not intend so."
"A pacified Dorne under House Rada would help end the constant border raids on the Reach and the Stormlands and pacify an otherwise restless region," Visenya stated, "And I doubt that old Yellow Toad could ever be Arin's match, in life or in death."
"She will never be his match; such is what the Fourteen ordained," Aegon declared with certainty, "Though neither is he our match. I mean, even if he does dare fight us one day for whatever convoluted reason his sun-addled mind can conjure, he lacks the power to contest our dragons. Perhaps if he actually had Water Wizards of his own, then he could pose a real threat, but let alone a handful, he has no water magic - a hopeless rebel of a futile cause."
Little did he know, however, that he would eventually find himself eating his own words. But that is a story for another time.
"I believe we are in accord, my dear sisters and brother?" Asked Aegon.
"Give us the word, and we shall march," Visenya declared.
"And we shall make the world bend the knee to you," Orys saluted.
Aegon smiled triumphantly, and ordered, "Prepare the troops and the ships, we make landfall in a few days' time."
IIOII
"Hey, pass me that canteen, will you?"
A waterskin was thrown Sentry 1's way, who deftly caught it mid-air and popped open the lid, before throwing it back and gulping deeply of the sweet honey within.
"Ah, that's the stuff," Sentry 1 sighed in relief, "I swear, sentry work's so fucking boring! Join the army, stop lazing like a useless bum, get some work and earn your own money! Fucking hell, if me ma didn't threaten to kick me out of the house, I wouldn't be doing this shit job at all!"
"Please, shut up," Said Sentry 2, "You're being too loud like a fucking bull."
"Okay, okay," Sentry 1 put his hands up, "Don't get your knackers up your arse."
Sentry 2 grumbled but said nothing.
"You know, I almost wish we had an incoming attack just to break our boredom. Almost," Sentry 1 said.
"You idiot, you think nobles war because of your wishes and not theirs?" Sentry 2 countered, "It's like wishing the Warrior were your husband who'd gladly do your bidding as your 'lawfully wedded, loyal spouse' till death do you part."
"Alright, maybe not so much an attack, more just something we can actually report, like a bandit raid or a merchant brawl or something," Sentry 1 suggested, "Plenty of bandits roaming the countryside and merchants love bickering over prices and coin and whatnot. Actually, I think I see something in the air."
"See what? A bird? A figment of your imagination?" Sentry 2 asked.
"No, more like a… lizard or something? An oversized bird?" Sentry 1 answered.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Sentry 2 quickly got up and took a closer look. Instantly, both their eyes widened in alarm.
"What the fuck's that?"
"I don't know, but it looks like a whole fucking army following down below!"
An army of black as far as the eye could see, flying the black banner of the crimson three-headed dragon, an army far greater than any army they had ever seen in the lands of the Hundred Petty Kings.
An army accompanied by a trio of titanic flying creatures that drew ever closer to their direction.
"Fuck, get the messenger pigeon quick!" Sentry 1 cried.
"The Hells you think I'm trying to do!?" Sentry 2 exclaimed.
It was a hasty job, and the handwriting was messy, but the message was composed and tied to the pigeon's feet before it was sent to fly away.
Both sentries wept bitterly as they faced the encroaching army, knowing they would never be able to get away in time.
"Y'think I'll get to see me pa in the next life?" Sentry 1 asked.
"Hopefully," Sentry 2 shrugged helplessly.
Both would die quickly, riddled with arrows.
IIOII
2 BC
Ny-Tahor
To every King, noble and Smallfolk of Westeros,
I am Aegon Targaryen, Lord of House Targaryen - last of the Forty Families of Valyria - and of Dragonstone, Claw Isle and Driftmark, and I make known my ambition to conquer all of Westeros.
You who claim to be masters of this land are but mere fools, who have never faced the power of dragons your entire lives. You squabble, bicker and fight, but none of you are ever closer to the power of the Free Cities, who even now possess superior technology and wealth despite squabbling and fighting like you. What has the world come to, when slavers and coin-counters are superior to chivalrous knights?
Hear now my ambition, to unite the Seven Kingdoms under my house and banner, my empire, my Valyria. All you kings and queens who feebly hold on to your power, tremble before my wrath as the Dragons of House Targaryen descend upon you, desecrate your lands and burn your armies to ash.
Should you wish for mercy, all I ask is your surrender and pledge of fealty. Refuse, and you shall have sealed your fate.
Signed,
Aegon Targaryen
Lord of Dragonstone, Driftmark and Claw Isle
"He certainly wastes no time, My Lord," Huang Xue reported.
"Why would he?" Arin replied back.
The Declaration of Dragonstone, such was the name of Aegon's declaration of war that was rapidly spread by courier pigeons and ravens throughout the continent of Westeros. Every single Great House received it, and all initially laughed off the declaration; how could a measly three islands muster the power to overthrow entire kingdoms?
They ate their words when they learned of the devastation the dragons wrought.
Castles melted to slag, armies incinerated to ash, kings overthrown in mere days… all learned of the power of the Three-Headed Dragon and carved it into their hearts.
Within weeks, all the Hundred Petty Kings were conquered. Several dozens of minor houses were rendered extinct due to the deaths of all inheritable males in the conflict that ensued, while some of the Kingly houses surrendered willingly, including Darklyn and Rosby, who profited from the Targaryen trade.
All opposition in the region melted before the forces of House Targaryen, and the landing site of Aegon's armies became home to the outpost of Aegonfort, constructed to serve as a forward base of operations, as Arin put it. Troops and supplies quickly unloaded, and soon the full ten thousand-strong army of House Targaryen occupied every single castle, town and village of note, bringing it under their control.
"It will take three months for House Targaryen to fully secure the lands around Blackwater Bay, and in that time we must not be idle," Arin declared, pointing to the Yi-Tish strategist, "Huang Xue?"
The Yi-Tish strategist then unfurled a map of all of Dorne, showing different icons of the entire region's geography from rivers to forests, oases and mountains, the different castles and towns of note, and the borders dividing the land between various noble houses. House Rada's borders and its vassal houses stood out as one fat smear on the country, easily larger than any single house controlled.
"We first target House Martell and the other Greenblood Houses," Huang Xue stated, his fingers spilling out of House Rada's lands like Arin's ambitions, "The cultural similarities will help minimise difficulty with assimilating the region under our control, and it will also serve as a stepping stone to invading and conquering the Stepstones themselves."
"The Stepstones?" Arris questioned, "That is a haven of pirates and lowlifes of the bases, vilest denomination; I am aware it sits directly between the Narrow Sea and Summer Sea, but no one has ever bothered to conquer it; not even the Free Cities thought to claim it for themselves."
"Then we ought to be the first," Arin answered.
"If I may, Lord Arris?" Said Elanzo, "For years, the Stepstone pirates have always harassed our shipping and raided countless convoys, and only through our powerful navies have we ensured their consistent failure to cause any damage. As you know, this cannot continue, unlike what some brainless buffoons might suggest."
"I suppose it cannot," Arris acceded, "Although I wonder how the Free Cities will reach to having a sovereign nation on their doorstep. Then again, I doubt they might care that much beyond token protests. Son, how long do you believe we would need to secure both eastern Dorne and the Stepstones?"
"Six months, give or take," Arin answered, "There will be countless vacancies in the bureaucracy to fill, countless laws both useful and useless - mostly useless - to rehash, countless infrastructural projects to undertake, just to name a few. All these things take time."
"Time that Aegon's Conquest will give us, though not much," Sainalia added with a shrug, "After that will be the Desert Houses [2], the Houses of the Torrentine and finally the rest of the Red Mountains. All sounds simple, if not for the fact the desert lacks much infrastructure, and the Red Mountains are full of narrow valleys and caves to hide in. One particular house might make use of the Boneway to give us terrible grief, especially."
"All valid points, I have to admit, but I believe at least one of Dorne's neighbours will want to… have a piece of the action," Aimelia interjected.
"Who, Mother?" Arin asked.
"The Reach," Aimelia answered, "Those flowery chits love prancing around like overgrown peacocks, but their knights are nothing to scoff at, and they possess some of the greatest military power out of all the Seven Kingdoms. If anyone can conquer the Mountain Dornish, it will be them. Not to mention once we get started on this campaign, they will not hesitate to exploit Dorne's newfound vulnerability."
Arin smiled a wicked smile.
"Are you thinking what I think you are thinking, Son?" Aimelia asked, donning a similarly smug expression.
"Oh, yes," Arin answered, "Especially regarding a certain house of raiders."
"Then would you like me to make the necessary arrangements, then?" Asked Aimelia.
"Please do," Arin confirmed, "Work with Sainalia for this one."
"As you command, my dear son," Aimelia smiled devilishly.
"Then for now, the meeting is adjourned," Arin stated.
IIOII
It was a starry, moonlit night in the town of Ny-Tahor. The town had gone to sleep, and few were awake at this hour. In the castle of Mar Srin [3] Arin walked with caution in his step, curiosity in his eyes as his footsteps silently echoed in the castle's corridors.
I wonder why my parents called me for a private meeting tonight… Arin thought, Surely it's nothing horrible…?
Eventually they reached Arin's personal study, and Arin saw both Arris and Aimelia waiting for her with Sainalia at the side, who curtseyed to him upon his entry.
"Welcome, Young Master," She greeted.
Arin nodded at Sainalia as he closed the door behind him and pensively stood before his parents who smiled gently, though there was a heavy weight behind their gazes that caused him to stand stiffly.
"Mother, Father," Arin greeted, "You called me here?"
"Yes, Son. It concerns an important decision we decided to make," Arris stated, "I have decided to abdicate in favour of you."
Arin and Sainalia could not suppress their eyes widening in response to that statement.
"My Lord… there are too few instances in Dorne of a Lord or Lady willingly abdicating in peaceful circumstances," Sainalia put forth, "What makes you decide that now?"
"The changing circumstances, Sainalia," Arris said, "My wife and I already discussed and agreed to this."
"But no Lord or Lady would willingly abdicate and in such peaceful circumstances!" Sainalia pointed out, "Even if they did, most times abdications happened due to coercion, blackmail or some sort of scheme conjured by political enemies!"
Sainalia hastily mastered herself, quickly bowing in servitude.
"Forgive me, I spoke out of turn," She bowed low, speaking softly as her eyes remained fixed to the floor, "I am merely afraid of what people would say about House Rada, once news of your abdication spreads."
Aimelia simply nodded with sagely understanding.
"It's alright, Sainalia," Aimelia reassured smilingly, "In fact, I would say that given these unusual circumstances, an unusual solution was needed to help our House ride these waves of change."
"Please explain, My Lady," Sainalia bowed, rising to face Aimelia at eye-level.
"Truthfully, we already decided many years ago, roughly four years after Arin started his tenure in policy-making," Aimelia explained, "We felt that if he took the reins of power, he could more easily implement whatever policies and other measures that could benefit House Rada without necessitating our input."
"Frankly at that time, you were still an unknown and had nothing of repute to your name, at least in the eyes of the rest of Dorne," Arris said to Arin, "For that reason, even if I abdicated with full support, no one would truly come to respect you or obey your authority, outside the lands under our immediate control. At worst, others could use this as an opportunity to try and depose us."
Arin nodded silently at the logic in their words.
"Truthfully, you far surpassed our wildest expectations," Arris smiled, "In fact, it's no exaggeration to say that the true power of House Rada has always been you. And now that news of Aegon's Conquest is spreading, there is no better time than to hand the reins to you."
"...Thanks for your confidence in me," Arin smiled slowly, touched deeply by his father's words.
"Time will tell if House Targaryen's rule will persevere over the lands of Westeros, however," Aimelia added, frowning deeply with furrowed eyebrows, "In all honesty, having met with Lord Aegon, the Targaryens are too self-assured of their longevity with the presence of their dragons."
"Take their dragons away from them, and they will not survive the Game," Arin answered with certainty.
"If I may speak, you sound as if it's a predetermined fate, Master Arin," Sainalia pointed out, a mixture of curiosity and measured hope in her eyes.
"They believe too much in the power of dragons and disregard the power of Human emotion," Arin explained, "In fact, the ones with the greatest power are those who have it and know how and when to use it appropriately, without relying on appearances. The Targaryens rely on that appearance, and when that appearance is damaged, their power will be damaged without repair."
"And yet you chose to ally with them years ago, Son," Aimelia pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
"Because as long as their appearance lasts, there is no better time than to oust House Martell and all the old houses, and secure Dorne as the new Rhoynar homeland, isn't that right, Son?" Arris answered smilingly.
Arin returned his father's smile, flashing him a thumbs up. Aimelia simply nodded in approval and pride.
"Tomorrow, we shall make the official announcement, and with that, you shall be free to cast off the chains," Arris continued.
"And no matter what happens, we support you every step of the way," Aimelia finished, hugging her dearest son with all the motherly affection she could muster.
"Then I shall count on you all," Arin declared.
And Sainalia, famed for hardly smiling at all, smiled warmly at her lord and master.
[1] Fourteen - The official name of the Gods of the Valyrian Pantheon, and at times used to name the fourteen volcanoes in the Valyrian Peninsula, who erupted and ushered in the Doom of Valyria.
According to historical texts, the Fourteen Flames - as the Volcanoes were named - were named such in dedication to the Valyrian Pantheon when they first discovered the dragons.
[2] Desert Houses - Referring to the canon Sandy Dornish Houses, the Desert Dornish dwell in the deserts (as per their namesake) and long river valleys, and have even darker skin than the Greenblood Dornish.
They have a strong equestrian tradition and breed hardy Sand Steeds, said to be the fastest horses in all of Dorne, but these houses are not very wealthy due to the stark lack of oases and rivers and other natural resources, making their lands some of the least populated in Dorne and their militaries the smallest.
[3] Mar Srin Castle - The centre of government and stronghold of Ny-Tahor, it would be renovated several times throughout its history as the times changed and technology advanced, and was one of the first to adopt the new star fortress wall layout.
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