Chương 13: Chapter XIII : The Rulers of the Red Keep
Chapter 14 : 'The Queen and the Hand'
Chapter 15 : 'The Shadow of Arthur Stark
Chapter 16 : 'The Nastiest Viper'
Chapter 17 : ' A Game of Pain & Passion'
Chapter 18 : 'A Tale of Waters and Snow'
Chapter 19 : 'The Northern Fist'
Chapter 20: 'Double Dual'
Chapter 21: 'Dragon against Wolf'
Chapter 22: 'The Tournament of Pretenders'
Chapter 23: "The divided Pack"
Chapter 24: "Too far, too late"
Chapter 25: "The Ghosts of Guilt"
Chapter 26 : "How time and blood flow"
Chapter 27: "Those who rule over Winter"
Chapter 28: "Clinging to hope"
are available here =
w w w . p a t r(e)on (slash) MonsieurLAH
It was a disastrous day for Otto Hightower, one he was sure was just as disastrous for the Realm itself. It was as if the Gods themselves had wanted to underline the seriousness of the situation by bringing down a downpour of the likes that had not been seen in King's landing for years. The former Hand of the King, who had ruled over the Red Keep and the Seven Kingdoms for fifteen years, had been stripped of all the dignity and respect he had accumulated over the years. Now, he was nothing more than an old knight over forty years old, without a sword, an armor, or a piece of land. The only things he had left was the fortune he had accumulated over the years, and his Taargaryen grandchildren whose creation he had orchestrated. He had been robbed and brutalized like a common farmer by a northern barbarian of eighteen namedays. Everything that had been stored in his trailer was what his replacement had deigned to let him take. A reminder that whatever Otto had, Arthur Stark could now take it.
"A moment. "
Otto, who was about to mount his horse, stopped himself. His greatest achievement had not been as ungrateful as he could have had expected her to be; his daughter Alicent, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
"I do not wish to see you go. " She said once in front of her father, her voice trembling.
"Such is the King's decision. " Her father reminded her. "He chose a new Hand. "
"A decision I most bitterly regret. "
Otto failed to suppress the angry scowl that adorn his face.
"Do you, now? Yet, you made it possible. You stabbed me in the back at a crucial moment. "
Alicent froze in shame and lowered her head.
"I… "
"You're not going to make me believe that using septas was your friend's idea. I know it was you who summoned them to the Red Keep to exculpate Arthur Stark. " He accused her, yet this time, Alicent refused to suffer her father's remonstrances.
"You were wrong! Your spy lied to you and put you in this position! " She countered as tears were running down her cheeks. "I only did what was right, I prevented an innocent man from being punished for a crime that never existed, and I prevented Rhaenyra's virtue from being soiled! "
Otto closed his eyes to swallow back his anger, how could his daughter be so blind?
"Yes, you did, you did the right thing, dear daughter of mine, now look at the consequences of your actions. "
Otto loosen the collar of his shirt, revealing the purple marks left by Arthur Stark's assault, Alicent was speechless. Horror had filled her eyes.
"This, " her father pointed at the ugly marks on his throat, "was done by your friend's beloved barbarian, after he threw me out of my own office. That savage of hers deserved to be locked in a black cell for the rest of his life, and you set it free. "
Alicent had to take a few moments to swallow back her fear and horror, she never imagined such violence would ever happen behind the walls of the Red Keep…
"I did not foresee this! " She defended herself.
"You should have. "
"Arthur Stark is loyal to Rhaenyra! And she knows what you are trying to do! If you had not been so relentless in advancing Aegon as heir, he would have never done that! He is only protecting her… "
Otto sighed. His daughter was not wrong, technically, yet she failed to see the larger picture, she failed to anticipate the dark future that awaited her and her children, especially with that damn Northerner by the Princess' side.
"Listen to me, daughter. Arthur Stark did not cross half the continent to be a mere adviser, the fact that he has now been named Hand is proof to that. Yet, what he truly desires is Rhaenyra, and through her, the Iron Throne. Should he marry her, the Seven Kingdoms will be torn like they've never been torn since the Conquest. The King will hold the peace, but the King will die. It may be months or years, but he'll not live to be an old man. And if Rhaenyra and her damn savage succeed him, war will follow, do you understand? The realm will not accept them. A savage nephew of a great lord and a girl? No great Lords would ever bow to them while trueborn sons are available to be crowned. They'll call for a Great Council that would end the same way it ended in 101. In order to secure her claim, Rhaenyra will have no choice but to put your children to the sword. And she won't back down, her savage will make sure of this.
You know it. "
Truth be told, Alicent did not know for sure, yet everything her father had said made perfect sense. Rhaenyra was enamored with Arthur Stark, and the latter could be violent if needed. Alicent had hoped that things would never escalate that far, she truly genuinely hoped, but hope was all she had. With her Father's departure, she'd be alone if her friend and her adviser chose to discard her. Alone with her childre, alone with Viserys.
"You're no fool, and yet you choose not to see it. The time is coming, Alicent. Either you prepare Aegon to rule, or you cleave to Rhaenyra and pray for her mercy. "
Alicent felt her heart broke, her mind shatter, her body tremble, she was scared, she was so scared she did not know what to say or what to do. So, when her father embraced her, she cleaved to his clothes and begged the Mother for mercy. She recited her prayer, again and again, hoping that her father was wrong, that her friend would always be her friend, and that Arthur Stark would never turn on her children. For she did not know how she could possibly protect her children from him.
(-)(-)(-)
Magister Bednar Fyllonnis was displeased to say the least. He had been chosen against his will to represent Myr's interests in King's Landing, and now, after a terrible journey at sea, a horrible stench of human excrements had invaded his cabin, informing him that his destination was close. King's Landing was known in the Free Cities as 'Valyria's chamberpot', both to mock its disgusting stench and the Targaryens that ruled it. Yet, calling it 'Valyria's cesspool' would be far more appropriate in the Magister's eyes.
He hastened to close his window, and lit some incense to free himself from that horrible smell. He had work to do, a simple task to complete, then he would return home and never come back to this horrible place.
The magisters of Myr had been deeply concerned after Prince Daemon's victory in the Stepstones and the blockade that had been forced upon Tyrosh. Their Tyroshis and Lysenis allies were quite angry and worried regarding their situation after this crushing defeat. Myr had not suffered too much despite Drahar's actions, their coffers were still deep, they could hire more soldiers if they needed. But their allies had refused to spend more resources on another war, they needed to lick their wounds before trying to reconquer the Stepstones. Bednar, like many other Myrish Magisters had enraged when he had learned their decision. The Stepstones were the most crucial naval route in the known World! It was the only access by sea from the Free Cities to Dorne, Slaver's Bay, Qarth and even Yi-Ti! They had grown richer than ever from the taxes Drahar had collected during his rule! If Westeros were to get their hands on those islands, they could control a large part of the World Market for centuries! It would be a catastrophe for the Triarchy's economy. And according to their spies' reports, the new Hand of the King had made the acquisition of the Stepstones a priority for the Seven Kingdoms.
When news had reached Myr that an eighteen year old boy had been made the second most powerful man in Westeros, many had laughed and sighed in relief, for they had all expected Prince Daemon to take this position. Bednar had not laughed, he had been suspicious. Otto Hightower had never cared for business outside the Seven Kingdoms since Jaehaerys' rule, the first thing that Stark boy did was to burn their fleet and to block their access to the Stepstones to prevent its reconquest. Now, he and the Princess had invited him to King's Landing to negotiate reparations for Drahar's damages in the Stepstones, as well as the new tax that all ships that wish to navigate the archipelago will have to pay. This particular invitation had aroused the Magister's wariness for it had infuriated the representatives of both Lys and Tyrosh when it had been presented to the conclave. The fact that he had been invited by the heir and the Hand, not by the King himself, meant that those two new politicians were playing a dangerous game and might be reckless due to their age. However, Bednar smelled something fishy; the letter alone had caused a lot of damage among the Triarchy, The reason why he had been invited was strange; it was not a ceasefire that the westerosis wanted to negotiate, it was a simple commercial agreement. The Princess Rhaenyra was said to be petulant and enamored with her savage, yet, Bednar was not certain it was a savage he was going to deal with. The boy was young, yet he had advanced to the position of Hand of the King and had destabilized the Triarchy's conclave with a single letter. If his surprising position could be explained by the Princess' affection and the King's weakness, Bednar did not believe it was so simple, he needed to be patient with this boy, underestimating him might cost him.
He heard his ship was docking and mentally prepared himself for facing that stench yet again.
(-)(-)(-)
Bednar Fyllonnis had been transported with a litter from the harbor to the Red Keep, he had been offered Bread and Salt yet had not been greeted by the King, the Hand, or the Princess. A first insult but a feeble one. Chambers had been assigned to him and he had been offered to rest until his meeting with the Hand and the Princess, but he had declined. He would wait for them in the Small Council's chambers where a Kingsguard had brought him, he wanted this matter settled quickly and he was not a pimple-selling peddler you could afford to keep waiting.
Yet he waited, for more than half an hour, he waited. He was a patient man, others had used that trick on him, he would not be lose his cool.
Finally, the door opened, and Bednar screamed in terror when a wolf the size of a horse entered the room and slowly walked in his direction. The Magister jumped in fear, knocking over his chair, and walked backwards as the beast came closer, baring its fangs.
"Shadow! Down! Now! "
In a blink, the massive creature lay down on the floor and whimpered under the authority of the person who had just entered the room.
Bednar rose his head to discover a small young woman, with silver hair and purple eyes, wearing a black and red dress with the Three headed Targaryen sigil on each of her shoulder.
Rhaenyra sighed as the direwolf went to her, still whimpering, the Targaryen girl scratched his head to appease him.
"My apologies for this incident, Magister. " She said as she curtsied. "Shadow here is one the most loyal creatures in Westeros, and he is not fond of strangers. "
Bednar could not believe his eyes, that girl was small, even for her age, and yet she could command a beast as wild and massive as this one? This was no Dragon, her Valyrian blood was useless with such an animal, so how…?
The entrance of a young and tall man with a book under his arm, wearing a golden pin shaped like a hand and sporting a direwolf on his doublet, was his answer.
"Magister, my sincerest apologies. " He bowed. "My direwolf has a powerful instinct, he can tell when someone wishes us harm. I assure you, it was not our intention to be impolite. "
Despite the fear that radiated inside his bones, Bednar did not miss Arthur Stark's words nor what they implied. The boy knew they were not friends, and he would not hesitate to employ drastic measures should it be necessary. He glared at the Northerner and composed himself.
"It's quite alright, I was surprised by this beast's size is all. I've never seen a wolf that large, nor did I ever think of seeing one in King's Landing. Where did you find it, if I may ask? "
"North of the Wall. "
The Magister struggled not to widen his eyes.
"I see. "
"If you two men are done. " Rhaenyra clapped her hands. "Perhaps we can start this meeting properly. "
Bednar froze in anger and discomfort. Never in his life had a woman spoken to him in such a way. He was not some fisherman eager to sell his morning catch, he was a Magister of Myr, and in Myr women knew their places.
While he was fuming, Arthur moved to pull the King's chair for his Princess who thanked him with a smile. Shadow moved after his master and rested his head on the Valyrian girl's knees, who proceeded to pet him. Arthur sat to her right, and they both waited for Bednar to take his sit. The Magister swallowed his pride back, and sat in front of the Hand of the King.
As he did, he came to realize one thing, he was not talking to a pair of children who knew nothing, he could not afford to be careless. Those two had a taste for theatricality, they surely enjoyed showing off, those negotiations suddenly became harder than anyone in Myr could have expected.
"We thank you for coming, Magister. " The Princess said, her tone polite. "And we hope the sea was kind. "
"It was, thank you for asking Princess. "
Arthur Stark had not the same manners.
"Let's get down to business since you were so hasty to start. " He smiled as he opened his large book and grabbed a quill and an ink well that had been provided on the table. "We asked you to come here to find a proper way for Myr to compensate the Throne for the… inconveniences Prince Craghas Drahar has inflicted upon the Noble Families of Westeros. Rest assured though, we have managed to convince most of our Lords to not be unreasonable. You will not be charged with the amount of coin they have lost due to the interruption of naval trade in the past years. "
Bednar glared at the Northerner once again, if the boy wanted to play this game, then he would teach him a lesson.
"My apologies, but neither I nor any magister in Myr understands why we should pay for the damages caused by one of our rebelled Prince Admiral. In Westeros, are Fathers, sons and friends punished for the sin of one madman? "
" It happened before. " Arthur shrugged.
"But you do not rule over Myr, my lord. " Bednar said. "We are sorry for your losses, but we will not pay for the sins of a madman. And I have a duty to tell you that we do not take kindly to threats, where I come from, crooks are hanged. "
Arthur merely rose an eyebrow.
"If you say something that stupid again, " he spoke with a cold tone. "I'll throw you in Fleabottom naked, with both your legs cut off. "
Bednar felt a chill go through his spine, he meant to stand up but Shadow growled at him, stoping his momentum, Rhaenyra sighed.
"That was a threat. " Arthur said as he joined his hands to rest his chin. "See the difference? "
"Lord Hand! " The Princess spoke, clearly displeased. "I know diplomacy is not your strongest quality, but please, get a hold of yourself! "
Arthur closed his eyes as an apology.
"I'm sorry, Princess. "
Bednar was boiling in fury, this was not a negotiation, he was squabbling with a child who had been given far too much power!
"This is…! "
"Magister. " Rhaenyra interrupted him. "While I disagree with his method, you threatened him first. He is still the Hand of my father, the King of Westeros. Do that again and you will have to deal with the consequences of a sharp tongue. "
Bednar bit back his reply and lowered his head as an apology. Rhaenyra spoke again:
"Since you two, cannot argue without threatening each other, I will lay down our terms: Magister, either you and your conclave find a way to repay the Iron Throne for the damages Craghas Drahar caused to our ships and our Lords, or we will, and interests will have to be added to the debt you owe us as compensation your reluctance. "
Bednar rolled his eyes and sighed, which angered Rhaenyra.
"Princess, I understand you are new to trade, so I will forgive your… "
"I understand you are underestimating me. " She cut. "So I'll forgive your rudeness. "
She pulled a sealed roll of parchment, and handed it to the Magister who frowned.
"The Stepstones belong to the Iron Throne by rights of conquest. " She declared as Bednar broke the seal to read the signed decree made by King Viserys himself. "Any captain who wishes to navigate his ship in our new territory will have to pay a reasonable tax for protection against pirates. However, given your reluctance to pay what your owe us, we will have no choice but to rise the tax we had initially established on Myrish ships. "
The Princess' words shocked the Magister more than the Stark's words had, as he clenched his fists, the Northerner smiled cruelly.
"You have no right to tax us! The Stepstones have no Lord! "
"But they have a King. " Arthur said. "A generous one, that welcomes foreigners with open arms as long as they behave properly. And said foreigners will have to pay a tax if they wish to navigate in our waters. "
Bednar wanted to retort, and he would have, had Rhaenyra not spoken again.
"Perhaps we could come to an arrangement to prevent the creation of a specific tax for Myrish ships; Craghas Drahar took thousands of Westerosi ladies captive to sell them into slavery, we want them returned. "
It was subtle, but Bednar noticed the eyes of Arthur Stark had widened for a second. So the theatricality was just that, theatricality. Perhaps he could find common ground with a man despite his obvious savageness.
"Princess, what you are asking is impossible. Those slaves were bought, sold, and sent to the multiple markets of Essos to be sold again. No one can find them all, and even less people could compensate the buyers for their investments, the captains for their travels and the current owners. It is simply not possible. "
Rhaenyra frowned, displeased, she looked at her adviser for support, but the latter shook his head.
"Slavery is more than an abomination. " He sighed. "It's an economic system that cannot be reversed on such a large scale. We'd need to track down the owners, compensate them and pay for the safe returns of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of our countrymen and women. We cannot ask Myr to pay for this, firstly, because they would trick us on the actual number of slaves they've bought, and secondly, because we'd have to convince the owners to renounce their slaves, and essossis are known to be possessive. "
Bednar smiled at those words, so the savage was knowledgeable, that was good to know. That meant he was harder to trick than some of his esteemed colleagues would have thought.
"However, " The Northerner went on, "the Princess rises an interesting point. Given the fortune you've made selling our people like cattle for years, perhaps we should raise the tax higher than we had planed. "
Bednar ceased smiling and glared one last time at this greedy savage who was toying with him and thought he could not see it.
"Perhaps you should stop beating around the bush and tell me what you want, Lord Hand. "
"A new Glass Garden. "
Bednar stared at him, confused.
"A what? "
"A Glass Garden, a greenhouse made of glass. Your ships will be exempt from a tax increase if you commit to building a glass garden within eighteen moons. "
The Magister frowned, this sounded like far too good of a deal to be true. So he asked:
"What is the size of a 'Glass Garden'? "
"This Glass Garden will be far larger than the one in Winterfell. " Arthur warned. "I planned for this one to be 92 feet long by 33 feet large. It would not be all glass, of course, but we'd still need a… "
"Unacceptable. " Bednar replied, backhanding the proposal with disdain. "Our glass is one of the most coveted goods in the entire World. You can not expect us to give away so much of our finest work in order to pay an unfair task. Does your greed know no limits? "
Arthur Stark said nothing, he actually took a very deep breath before glaring at the Magister with hatred and murder intent.
"Now, you better listen to me, your worthless piece of shite. " He growled, shocking his interlocutor. "We got you by the balls, you know it, I know it. Everyone in both Westeros and Essos knows it. You've lost your war, it's time to pay the price of the defeated, or perhaps you'd rather have your ships raided the same way Drahar raided ours? "
Bednar was at a loss, his mouth was agape and his eyes widened in shock. He had expected a lot during those negotiations, but for this to not actually be negotiations but dictated terms of a surrender, that was something he would have never expected.
Rhaenyra shot her adviser a displeased look, the Magister immediately seized that opportunity.
"Your savage is mad. "He said in High Valyrian. "Dismiss him, or those negotiations are over. Myr will not stand for this… "
Arthur rose from his seat, bent forward and grabbed the fat Magister by the throat. Bednar's eyes nearly popped out their sockets as the Northerner brought him to his face.
"Your stupidity is astounding. " The Stark spoke in heavy accented High Valyrian under the astonished look of his Princess. "You lost your war against Prince Daemon, the Stepstones are ours, you started this whole Triarchy business and feasted upon our people's flesh for years. And now that you've been repelled, you still think you are in a position to negotiate? King Viserys had not declared war upon you, because his Hand had advised him against. I am Hand now, and if you keep trying to bargain with your bloody punishment, Prince Daemon will have an army fifty thousand strong at his back next time he goes to visit your damn city. Make no mistake, we will not destroy it, we'll simply ask for the death of you and your entire family in exchange for sparring your city, and once you and your entire blood have been burnt alive, we will negotiate once again and obtain what we demanded. Make no mistake, Magister, you're either leaving King's Landing with a deal, or a death warrant for your entire family. And I know the magisters at the Conclave will be quite happy to be rid of you and to put their hands on the fortune of the Fyllonnis. Now, do you still wish to negotiate, or should we call the banners of House Targaryen? Not all of them, mind you, a third will do to convince your rivals to be rid of you. "
Bednar desperately tried to free himself from the young man's grip, a vain attempt as his pudgy fingers were too weak to even bother the northerner's iron grip. He tried to breath but his throat had been closed against his will, he looked at the Princess for help, but she seemed to be more mesmerized by her adviser than she was worried about her guest. She ended up breathing a deep sigh.
"Arthur, " she said sternly, "let him go. "
The Stark threw another look of dismay at the Myrish, and obeyed. Bednar coughed loudly as grey crossed purple.
"Your wish is my command. "
"If only that were true. " She said as she rolled her eyes in amusement.
Bednar could not believe what had just happened, he had been assaulted, insulted, threatened, tortured! And all those children were doing was flirting. In what kind of trap had he walked into?
"This… this is an outrage! " he tried to protest
"Quiet! " Rhaenyra barked as Shadow barred his teeth making the Magister squeal in fear. "I had no wish to intimidate you for I had thought this matter could have been solved diplomatically given the precarious position you are in. But you have disrespected my Hand and failed to realize your own defeat and more importantly, you dared refuse after everything you and your esteemed colleagues have done to my people. My uncle might have been satisfied with victory, my father might have been satisfied with peace, but I, will only be satisfied once you have paid for your crimes. While we were talking, or should I say, suffering your impertinence, messengers have been sent to Tyrosh and Lys to inform them of the new tax that they will have to pay if they want to cross the Stepstones. And, another has been sent to Myr, presenting our request. We will spare every Myrish family but yours of any tax for a year, in exchange for the necessary material to build the requested Glass Garden. If you try to trick us, your blood will pay for your betrayal. Now, either you sign this agreement in the name of the Conclave of Myr, or you, and only you, will deal with the consequences of your actions. Have I been clear? "
Bednar's skin tone had turned from red to white, he babbled like a baby for a minute before he finally regained enough senses to utter a few words:
"You… you will not get away with this! I swear I'll… "
Arthur grabbed him by the throat once again.
"Don't be stupid enough to threaten or insult the Princess, the last person who did this died screaming. And I'm not above ripping your tongue out. Sign this bloody agreement or we will find a Magister who will. "
After the Stark freed him Bednar grabbed the quill furiously and did as he had been forced, then he got up and left just as furiously.
"We wish you safe travels on your journey back home. " Rhaenyra said with amusement as the Magister slammed the door.
Then, the Princess proceeded to relax in her father's comfortable padded chair. Shadow did as well, enjoying being pet by her.
Arthur barely held his laughter down.
"Looks like you've had fun. "
She opened one of her eyes to show her annoyance.
"You speak High Valyrian. " She said, her tone accusing. "You've served me for more than eight moons and never told me. Why? "
"You hadn't asked. "
Rhaenyra got up in a blink and cuffed him on the head, shocking him slightly.
"That's all you have to say for yourself? " She groaned, clearly displeased. "How do you even speak High Valyrian? "
"The Maester at Winterfell is a Celtigar, I asked him to teach me when I was a boy. " Arthur grumbled as he scratched his head. "It really is not a big deal, Rhaenyra. "
"Yes it is. " she insisted, angrier than the Stark could have imagined. "High Valyrian is my mother tongue, yet I could only speak it with my father or Daemon or the Dragon keepers in my entire life! Had you told me you could speak it, I would have probably spoke it with you everyday and I would have loved it. Why didn't you tell me? "
Arthur was a little embarrassed by the situation, he wondered if Rhaenyra was annoyed that he specifically hid the fact that he spoke High Valyrian from her, or if she was upset about all his cackling in general. In any case, he had not expected such reprimands, and hesitated to justify himself for fear that his reaction would be all the more disproportionate.
"To be honest, " he said, "my original intention was to listen to any conversation in High Valyrian that might happen in the Keep, without anyone realizing that I could understand them, nobody would have expected a Northerner to speak High Valyrian fluently. "
"So your intention was to be nosy with impunity. " She said as she rose an eyebrow in disdain.
"It's easier to know what people think of you when they think you can't understand them. " Arthur replied, his accent thick as a log.
Surprisingly enough, Rhaenyra liked it, she actually really liked the strange way her northerner was speaking her mother tongue. So much so, that she failed to stay angry at him. She wanted to keep conversing with him in High Valyrian. So she changed the subject, but not the language.
"Why didn't you support me when I tried to obtain the freedom of all the slaves that Drahar had taken? "
Arthur's face turned serious.
"First of all, those topics need to be discussed before our meetings, otherwise we look like unprepared fools and can't achieve anything. Secondly, as I have stated before, asking for the slaves' freedom is impossible, unless you want to conquer all of Essos and put an end to Slavery itself. "
Rhaenyra frowned, displeased.
"Is there truly nothing we can do? "
"Except emptying your coffers to buy the freedom of as many Westerosi slaves as you can? No. They shouldn't even be your priority. "
Rhaenyra could not believe her ears.
"What? How can you say that? "
Arthur sighed.
"Turn around, and see for yourself. "
The Princess frowned once again, it was typical of her Northerner to riddle her in order to have her find the answer she was looking for by herself. She got up from her Father's chair, and turned to look out the window.
"What am I looking for? "
"What do you see? "
Typical of Arthur, answering her questions with questions of his own. She rolled her eyes and looked again.
"Should I be seeing something other than King's Landing? "
The Stark was very tempted to have his Princess figuring it out all the way, but now that he was Hand, he did not have nearly as much time as he used to to teach her, so he skipped half of his lesson.
"Do you know how many people live in Flea Bottom? Eighty thousand. "
Rhaenyra rose an eyebrow, and watched as Arthur pulled five silver stags off his pocket.
"If I wanted to hire an assassin to kill someone in that shithole, here is the price that I would have to pay, such is the price of a life in Flea Bottom. The Price of a Myrish slave is eighty gold dragon for a builder, one hundred and fifty for a soldier, three hundred for a male bedslave, and double that for a female of thirteen. Drahar took twenty thousand slaves during his reign of terror. Why would the twenty thousand taken by Drahar be prioritized over the eighty thousand that live and suffer right under your nose? It would be easier and less costly to take care of Flea Bottom rather than undertake a crusade that would cost you more than gold and time. And you would change far more lives for the better. Knowing all of this, would you still choose to free slaves over helping your people grow?"
"You already know the answer to that question. " She sighed. "I just… I want to be a good ruler, to prove that I am worthy of the Iron Throne. I need to show my worth, I thought these people would be an opportunity. "
Arthur put a hand on her shoulder.
"Rhaenyra, those people have been defiled, they are ruined to their families; there is nothing you can do for them and they have nothing for you. "
Arthur's bluntness had the same effect it had always had on Rhaenyra; it made her accept reality without making her feel better. With her adviser's nomination as Hand of the King, she had started seeing things from a new perspective. Arthur used to be solely at her service, advising her and helping her in anyway she had needed him. Now that he was autonomous, she had witnessed his effectiveness, his vast knowledge and his intransigence to get things done. If she was honest with herself, she was starting to feel left out, the same way she had felt before Arthur's arrival in the capital. She needed him to keep teaching her, to keep being at her side. She could not be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms if she needed to ask someone else to rule for her.
"Do you still have work to do? " She asked in the Common tongue.
"I always do nowadays, why? "
"I'm going to help you. "
She had spoken with her queenly voice, therefore, Arthur could not refuse her help, nor did he want to.
"I have to inform my Princess, that I do have a lot of work waiting for me. Meaning we will be stuck in my office for a long time. "
"Good. " She smiled. "That way you'll have all the means to resume your trade as my adviser while we'll be solving the great matters of the Realm. "
Arthur ceased smiling for a moment.
"I never stoped being your adviser, Rhaenyra. "
"I know. " She said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I simply want us to work together, rather than for one another. "
"If we spend too much time in closed quarters… "
"People will talk. " She finished, frustrated. "I know and I do not care anymore. If I catch wind of the smallest rumor regarding us I'll feed their tongues to Syrax. We will be in your office, not in anyone's personal chambers, that should be enough. "
"Rhaen… "
She put her finger on his mouth, shutting him up.
"Quiet, " she whispered, "this is my decision, and you will follow my command, Lord Hand. "
Arthur surrendered, why should he argue pointlessly with his Princess when her offer was benefiting everyone? He gently grabbed her finger and lost himself in her eyes.
"As you wish, my Queen. "
Needless to say, those words triggered something in Rhaenyra that the Valyrian girl struggled to tame. Why did he say such things to her? Why couldn't he be hers? He was everything she desired, yet he refused to be hers… for now. She had been tasked to resume her tour, yet that was probably the last thing she wanted, what she needed was more time, enough to break her northerner's defenses without him noticing until it was too late. She would have him, and no one, no one would stop her. Her mind was set.
For now, she simply dived in his embrace and relaxed in his arms, where she felt the safest, where no one could touch her, where she was invincible. His wonderful smell strengthened her resolve, her wolf would be hers, from this day, until her last.
(-)(-)(-)
Unknown to both the Hand and the Princess, the paths of Queen Alicent Hightower and Magister Bednar Fyllonnis crossed, while no words were exchanged, for the Myrish man was mumbling angry Valyrian words, the Queen did not miss the purple marks that had started to take shape around the fat man's neck. A shiver of dread went down her spine.
Chapter 14 : 'The Queen and the Hand'
Chapter 15 : 'The Shadow of Arthur Stark
Chapter 16 : 'The Nastiest Viper'
Chapter 17 : ' A Game of Pain & Passion'
Chapter 18 : 'A Tale of Waters and Snow'
Chapter 19 : 'The Northern Fist'
Chapter 20: 'Double Dual'
Chapter 21: 'Dragon against Wolf'
Chapter 22: 'The Tournament of Pretenders'
Chapter 23: "The divided Pack"
Chapter 24: "Too far, too late"
Chapter 25: "The Ghosts of Guilt"
Chapter 26 : "How time and blood flow"
Chapter 27: "Those who rule over Winter"
Chapter 28: "Clinging to hope"
are available here =
w w w . p a t r(e)on (slash) MonsieurLAH
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