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A Song of Ice and Fire it is owned by G.R.R. Martin.
Return of Valyria
Chapter 3
"There is nothing really for us to discuss on what choice to make." Aerarro said as he sat with his fellow Triarchs of Volantis in a private room. "Having already publicly submitted before our Valyrian counterpart, we must forge on, or lose face and have our authority undermined by stepping back. And that's the least that can happen."
"But, even if you say that," Tychano said. "To just surrender three hundred years of independence and become a Valyrian vassal…"
"Not to mention we have only their word as proof of them being Valyria returned…" Vargano muttered halfheartedly.
"Proof?" Aerarro echoed. "Have you looked up at the sky? Did you not kneel with the rest of us before that dragon that may very well dwarf even Aegon the Conqueror's great beast?"
"I know, I know." Vargano said with a sigh. "There's no doubting it, at least not for us here at Volantis, and in the surrounding settlements. Word can spread surprisingly quickly, and they're close enough doubters can come to the city with little difficulty to see the truth for themselves. But…"
"The rest of Essos?" Aerarro asked, and Vargano nodded. "They'll have to learn and accept it soon enough. Otherwise, the Valyrians are going to smash the fact of the matter into their heads."
Tychano snorted. "Such a crude way of saying it, Aerarro." He said before sighing. "But I suppose it does get the point across very cleanly."
"Speaking of which," Aerarro began. "You mentioned our independence earlier, didn't you? If so, then we have nothing to worry about. Even before the Doom, the Freehold allowed us to govern ourselves and our lands without interference. Oh, we had to allow them to move armies and ships over our lands and through our waters, but that was always to the good. And had we need of it, we could and did receive aid from Valyria in times of war and crisis. They did not ask us for levies of men and horses, or for tribute much less tax revenue in gold or in kind, only that we remember who are, and what comes with it: The Eldest Daughter of Valyria. And we are. We always have been. And ever since the Doom, we are the only ones to take pride in who we are, and where our ancestors came from."
Aerarro paused and looked at each of his fellow Triarchs in the eye. "You understand, don't you?" he asked. "We might not look the part, and our politics don't always match, but all of us, our relatives, and our closest associates, they are all of the Old Blood. The blood of Valyria…so how much in the end will really change, should we acknowledge Valyria's hegemony once more?"
There was a profound silence for several moments. It was an undeniable fact, for all that the Triarchs had less Valyrian features than others did. Tychano was black-haired, and both Vargano and Aerarro had dark-brown hair. Only in the eyes did the truth of their heritage show, with their purple irises, and both Aerarro and Vargano knew that Tychano's daughters by his third wife all received Valyrian gold-silver hair from their mother, who was also of the Old Blood.
"I suppose there is a point there." Vargano finally said with a sigh. "But, just as we received help from Valyria, should Valyria have need of us, then we are expected to come to their aid. And from what we know, only the Valyrian homeland was saved from the Doom. The Dothraki still reign unchecked through the Dothraki Sea, and the Ghiscari remain free in the lands to the east of Slaver's Bay. There is also Qarth, and Yi Ti, and…"
"What remains of Valyria is what really matters." Aerarro interrupted. "The capital, and its surrounding cities under the shadow of the Fourteen Flames. There, the collected lore, wisdom, history and knowledge of Valyria are kept and preserved, no more than that, they
live there, and from there can grow anew to reach across all Essos once more. It might take longer than our lifetimes, but it
will happen. And the dragonlords are all there. Think about it: The Westerosi, and their entire continent's worth of kingdoms and petty lordships, all bent knee before the last remnant of Valyria, with just three dragons. Above us, there are
forty. One from each of the great dragonlord families. It stands to reason there are more,
far more. While they will need boots on the ground to hold conquered territory and make them worth a damn, those dragons, while not ensuring a quick victory and re-conquest of Essos, guarantee it, sooner or later."
Vargano and Tychano shared guarded glances, and Aerarro folded his hands on the table. "Though," he said. "That's just it, isn't it? Valyria will attempt to reconquer Essos and restore the Freehold to its former glory, but given the state of things, that can only be done by force. Not just by dragons, but with men and armies and fleets of ships. In short, a war on a scale not seen since the Century of Blood, and our ancestors' attempt to rebuild the Freehold."
Aerarro paused and narrowed his eyes. "That's what you're really worried about, isn't it?" he asked. "After all, it was in the wake of that devastating conflict that the elephants were born, in opposition to the tigers. And you two are of the elephants."
There was a profound silence. "And your point is?" Tychano snapped. "Those wars were fought for little gain. So many lives lost and ruined, and for what? Power? Wealth? Prestige? All of which could be gained through peaceful trade than through meaningless war."
"Then shall we return to the meeting with the Valyrians, and inform them of our decision not to support their coming campaign?" Aerarro asked.
Again, there was a profound silence, and Aerarro nodded. "No, we will not." He said. "We cannot. Maintaining the status quo, or attempting to do so will not profit our city at the least, and at worst, bring only fire and ruin upon it should the Freehold come to see us as an enemy. We
cannot stand against Valyria. The Rhoynar tried, and we all know what happened to them."
"…the Usurper managed to do it in Westeros." Tychano halfheartedly offered.
"Only because the Targaryens of today had lost their dragons." Aerarro countered. "Had they still their dragons, the Usurper and his confederates would have burned…assuming they could have gotten going in the first place to begin with. And Valyria returned has more dragons, and greater, than even the Targaryens at the height of their past glory had. Come to think of it, from what I could hear from the dragonlords earlier, one of the Targaryens of the past is among them…the Usurper's living on borrowed time. And so will we, unless we choose to aid Valyria in achieving their goals."
"In any case," Vargano began with a conciliatory tone. "It's not likely we will come out of this with nothing to show for it. We are the Eldest Daughter of Valyria. We were the first to be founded, and are the biggest and most populous of the Free Cities. And yet we play second fiddle to Braavos, the Bastard Daughter. But we can change that. We side with Valyria, and we can become first among her daughters once more. Set things right, put them the way they
should be."
"Playing second fiddle to Valyria?" Tychano asked.
"I can live with that." Aerarro said.
"So can I." Vargano said with a nod. "So can the rest of the Old Blood. And that's all that really matters when it comes to making the decisions for our great city."
Tychano looked unhappy. "At the very least," Vargano said. "Let us hear more of Valyria's plans for the future, and what they would offer us."
"And if they should prove unsatisfactory?" Tychano asked.
Vargano shrugged. "I doubt they would be." He said. "But, cooperation does offer a path to negotiate more gains for our city from the Freehold."
Aerarro nodded in agreement, and looking back and forth between him and Vargano, Tychano sighed and nodded. In any case he was outvoted, and as Aerarro had all but outright said earlier, they didn't really have a choice.
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As expected, the dragonlords present in Volantis returned to the Grand Audience Chamber to resume their discussion. Again, the Triarchs of Volantis sat at a raised table on the ground floor, along with their Valyrian counterpart.
"Honored Triarch," Aerarro began once the meeting had been called to order. "We have had time to consider the implications of this monumental event in the history of the world. And while we understand and accept the expectations upon us, it would be more…reassuring, were we to hear of Valyria's plans for the future."
"An understandable request, Honored Triarch." Laeraenar said with a nod. "Very well, thus far nothing concrete has been set, however before we departed from the homeland, the Assembly had passed a motion establishing a mandate for the Freehold to reestablish Valyrian hegemony and with it, rule of law and time-honored tradition to the lands of Essos."
Laeraenar paused with a smile. "The latter is quite vague," he admitted. "But the former is rather clear, is it not?"
"So they are, Honored Triarch." Aerarro said. "The next question would logically be on how the Freehold intends to do so."
"Again," Laeraenar said. "Nothing is set in stone, though a war plan is being prepared even as we speak to be presented for the Assembly to vote funds for. Given the limitations upon us, our initial goals will have to be limited as well."
"Limitations, Honored Triach?" Vargano asked.
Laeraenar nodded. "Indeed," he said. "As you already know, only the Valyrian Peninsula itself, along with the Lands of the Long Summer to the north, are currently under the Freehold's control. Unfortunately, this means a large portion of our army is gone, and more pressingly, the economy itself has taken a hit with the loss of virtually all our territories to the east, and our subject kingdoms and tributaries to the north."
"Yes, I see." Vargano said with a nod. "That understandably limits what can be done, at least in the short-term. War would require men to fight it, and not just dragons."
"And war consumes men and gold like nothing else." Tychano said.
"Correct, but at times war is necessary." Aerarro said. "Today is one such time."
"Well said, Honored Triarch." Laeraenar said. "Our plans at present call for the greater part of the Freehold's fleet and armies to strike north and east, out of the Lands of the Long Summer, and seizing the coasts of Slaver's Bay, and the islands therein, obtain a stepping stone from which to strike into Ghiscar. That shall be the limit of our advance east, at least for now. Qarth will have to wait for another time, once the Freehold has husbanded and grown her strength further."
"Understandable," Aerarro said. "And smashing the New Ghiscari Empire, along with their tributaries in the Slaver Cities, would strike a resounding historical note, would it not?"
"Indeed," Laeraenar said.
"And to the west?" Tychano said. "How would the Freehold…handle, matters in this region of the world?"
"In that Volantis will play a crucial role." Laeraenar said with a smile. "Of course, we will provide assistance, as per the mutual obligations Volantis and the Freehold have to each other, and Volantis shall receive great reward for its contributions."
"How so?" Vargano asked.
"Volantis and its outlying cities occupy a strategic position, unquestionably controlling the Rhoyne's mouth, and all the Rhoyne as far north as the Selhoru river." Laeraenar said. "This would allow for supplies and reinforcements to be gathered in bulk, and shipped as needed up the river to the expected battlefields to the north, with relative ease."
"…the Freehold intends to seize the Rhoyne, does it not?" Aerarro asked, his eyes alight.
"Indeed," Laeraenar said. "Historically, ever since the Second Spice War all the Rhoyne as far as Dagger Lake was Volantene territory. The Freehold would restore it to Volantis, and in so doing, through a trusted ally indirectly gain control of the quickest, and most reliable route for trade and non-magical communications across Central and Southern Essos."
"And Dagger Lake?" Aerarro asked.
"Dagger Lake was again, historically, directly under the Freehold's rule, if only to provide an objective boundary between Volantis and her younger sisters of Qohor and Norvos." Laeraenar said. "To restore as such would be the Freehold's goal."
"Trade through the Rhoyne is less than it ought to be, however." Tychano said. "The shadow of the Dothraki, the constant, low boil of the fighting in the Disputed Lands, and the pirates infesting Dagger Lake, hang heavy over the Rhoyne."
"That is true," Laeraenar said. "However, even we have not the means to decisively clean out the Dothraki savages infesting the Great Grass Sea. It's much too big, and will take decades if not a few generations of committed effort to clean out, resettle, and stabilize the region to do so. A series of fortifications across the hinterland, as a means of allopathic treatment of the Dothraki disease, will have to suffice for the foreseeable future."
There was a ripple of amusement at that, both among the Valyrians and the Volantenese. "A similar set of fortifications will have to do for the troubles in the Disputed Lands," Laeraenar said. "At least until we can free up enough forces and resources to bring Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr to heel. Lys and Tyrosh in particular, have a debt in blood to pay. Religious hysteria at our apparent destruction or not, the slaying of dragonlords cannot go unpunished. Such would set a bad precedent, and akin to laying seeds for future troubles."
"As you say, Honored Triarch." Aerarro cautiously agreed.
"In any case," Laeraenar said. "Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr should be brought to heel much quicker than the Dothraki, perhaps in two decades at most, but likely sooner than that. Once that's done, while leftovers of the centuries of fighting over the Disputed Lands need to be stamped out first, the problem born of the Disputed Lands existing in the first place would be effectively solved."
There were nods at that. "And the pirates of Dagger Lake?" Vargano asked.
"The easiest to deal with." Laeraenar said. "A thorough sweep of its shores, and sending a fleet into the lake through the Rhoyne, should be enough to burn out the filth. Dragons as well, to strike fear into the wretches."
Again, there were nods and murmurs of agreement among Valyrians and Volantenes both. "And what of Qohor and Norvos?" Tychano asked.
"They would be brought under Valyrian hegemony as well." Laeraenar said. "The Upper and Little Rhoyne have historically been under Norvos, along with Eastern Andalos. That will not change. The same would go for Qohor and its domains along the Qhoyne and the Darkwash. That shall be the extent of our plans for the foreseeable future, in the west and the north. With Norvos and Qohor once more under Valyrian hegemony, the Freehold through its allies will have indirect control of the northern caravan route, from Andalos in the west, through Norvos and Qohor, and thence east to Sarnor, Yi Ti, and beyond."
"The question now is," Vargano said. "If Norvos and Qohor will remember where their loyalties should lie."
"You do not think they will?" Laeraenar asked.
"They were among those who opposed the Freehold's resurrection during the Century of Blood." Vargano said. "And even before then, they were founded by religious dissidents. They are far from the homeland, and compared to Volantis, the distance insulates them and may even encourage them to drift away from how things ought to be."
"That is not necessarily a bad thing," Laeraenar said. "But I do see your point. However, if that is the case, then Norvos and Qohor must be brought to heel…but only
after the Rhoyne is once more under Volantene governance."
The Triarchs of Volantis looked at each other. Vargano nodded slowly, and Aerarro did so with more spirit. Finally, Tychano nodded, even more slowly than Vargano. They turned back to Laeraenar.
"We find the Freehold's plans, if still under development, to be without criticism, at least as far as generalities go." Vargano said. "Speaking on behalf of my fellows, Volantis
will participate as needed to reestablish Valyrian hegemony over Essos."
Laeraenar nodded. "That is most gratifying to hear, Honored Triarch." He said. "I will inform my fellow Triarchs and the Assembly at the earliest possible opportunity."
"We mustn't be careless, however." Aerarro warned. "Braavos will not stand idly by, and neither will Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr. Pentos has no choice but to follow Braavos' lead, though it may be possible for Lorath to stay neutral. Indeed, should Norvos and Qohor be brought to heel, then Lorath may swing our way following some effort with diplomacy."
"Thus gaining us a foothold on the Shivering Sea, and a sea route to Sarnor." Laeraenar said with a nod. "But that is still far in the future."
"Yes, of course." Aerarro said. "And finally, there is the Usurper in the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Their significant naval strength aside, barring the Freehold's legions Westerosi armies are the best in the known world. It would be troublesome if they managed to land an army or two here on Essos, to oppose us."
"Would they now?" Laeraenar asked.
"The Usurper's ancestor," Aerarro said. "One of the Storm Kings, sent an army to oppose us during the Century of Blood. He might be inclined to do the same, given how much he despises our people, or at least the Targaryens, calling them 'dragonspawn'."
Laeraenar blinked, and then burst out laughing. The Volantenes could only watch as the other dragonlords laughed uproariously. "Lord Freeholder Targaryen," one dragonlord asked after a few moments, and wiping at his eyes. "What say you to that?"
"Dragonspawn?" Jaenera echoed with a grin. "Truly? How utterly
unimaginative. The Ghiscari were calling us that for thousands of years, the Andals of Andalos called us that for nearly as long, and the Rhoynar called us that over a thousand years ago. But what can we expect?
Andals…"
Jaenera trailed off with a roll of her eyes, more laughter breaking out among the dragonlords as a result.
One of the dragonlords sitting at the front, and thus of the top ten of the dragonlord families rose to his feet. "Dragonlord Jacaeron Goninarys is acknowledged." Laeraenar said.
"So what if the Andal King sends an army to oppose us?" Jacaeron asked. "If that is the case, then we will simply crush them, along with their misguided allies, and then advancing forward bring Valyria's wayward daughters to heel. It might take time, years, possibly decades, but our victory is inevitable. There is no reason to fear. Furthermore, should the Andal King or his heirs dare to continue to defy us, then it is but a short distance across the Narrow Sea, to their capital at King's Landing. A few dragons ought to remind them that their victory over their betters was only a matter of circumstance, of Aenar Targaryen's line losing their dragons. Let
them know fear. Let them know what it means to challenge the Dragonlords of Valyria, and the greatest nation in the known world!"
Applause erupted from across the dragonlords, and with a bow, Jacaeron sat back down. "Yes, that is certainly true." Laeraenar said with a slow nod. "If need be, examples can always be made to remind the Andals of the need to know and stay in their places."
"And if they should not remain in their places?" Tychano softly asked.
Laeraenar's violet eyes glittered, and despite themselves the Triarchs of Volantis shuddered from an inexplicable feeling of terror. "Then," the Valyrian Triarch said menacingly. "The Andals will just have to be
made to stay in their places."
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As the meeting came to a close, the dragonlords were shown to where manses across Old Volantis had been prepared for their use. The Old Blood of Volantis was divided into many houses and families, and of those, many owned multiple residences, and while kept in good repair, not all were in use. And those that were not had been quickly refurbished and provided for the dragonlords' use, in exchange for a measure of prestige that would allow the owners of said manses to claim in the future that they had hosted a dragonlord or more in the past.
Jaenera's manse was surprisingly large, a rectangular, two-floor affair with a pair of wings extending sideways from the middle of the main building. A high outer wall surrounded the outer grounds, which featured fresh, clean flowing water, cleanly-kept grass, and neat lines of flowering bushes. The path leading to the manse from the gate had a fountain in the center, decorated by a sculpture of a woman who had a fish's tail in the place of legs.
"
What is that?" Jaenera thought with revulsion as she passed it by. "
Some kind of beast from the flesh pits of Gogossos? Flames of the Fourteen, what have those madmen been up to in the past four hundred years without Valyria's firm hand keeping them in check?"
Entering the manse, the dragonlord was greeted by several slaves, and a freedman working as their overseer. "Welcome, my lady." The overseer said. "And I must say it is an honor to meet one of the dragonlords of Valyria."
"Indeed," Jaenera said, unfastening her red cloak and handing it to a slave. The slave took it with a bow, and Jaenera advanced further into the manse, the overseer following behind her. "Does the manse have an armory?"
"Yes, but it is for the guards' use." The overseer replied. "We have prepared an armor stand and racks for your weapons in an adjoining room within your quarters, my lady."
"I see. Most thoughtful…my thanks."
"I am honored by your praise, my lady."
Jaenera made a noncommittal grunt. "And where would my quarters be?" she asked.
"I would be honored if you would follow my lead, my lady." The overseer said.
"Very well."
The man led Jaenera to her quarters, which were lavishly if impersonally furnished, and included a pair of slaves waiting to attend to her. Shown to the personal armory, Jaenera placed her sword and daggers on waiting racks, and unclipping her helmet placed it on top of the armor stand. Her enameled vambraces followed, placed on the same rack, along with her hauberk followed by her greeves.
The jacket of padded leather she wore under her armor was hung on a hook nearby, and left in a common but serviceable shirt and trousers of linen, Jaenera made to leave. "Shall this one guide this one's lady to her bath, or would this one's lady wish to dine first?" a slave asked.
"…a bath first." Jaenera said. "But before even that, I'd like to see the collection of clothes my hosts prepared for me."
"As this one's lady commands."
Guided to her bedroom, Jaenera was shown to an impressively-stocked walk-in closet, though the overelaborate and even
gaudy dresses and gowns therein were something of a disappointment. Thankfully, there were a few, simpler if still fine clothes inside, so it wasn't a complete failure in the end.
Placing the selected clothes in the arms of a slave, the collared woman bowed. "This one's lady has made a most fine selection." She said. "Would this one's lady wish for this one to guide this one's lady to her bath?"
"Yes."
"This one is honored."
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A warm and gently-fragrant bath later and Jaenera emerged refreshed and in clean clothes. A sleeveless dress of white silk that hung down to her ankles was worn over linen undergarments, followed a plain tunic of white linen with long sleeves and again reaching down to her ankles. A sash of red silk was belted at the waist, and tying back her gold-silver hair with a silken band, Jaenera had a slave to guide her to her evening meal.
"Lord Ormonnis apologizes for not being able to attend to you this evening, my lady." The overseer said with a deep bow. "He asks for your indulgence, with only the excuse that your arrival on short notice has barely given him time to properly honor your arrival. He does hope, however, that he would be able to attend to you more properly tomorrow morning?"
"I would be honored if my host would be able to join me for breakfast tomorrow." Jaenera said politely. "And it is of no concern. To have this fine manse put at my disposal…Lord Ormonnis is most generous. I am most grateful, and would even be more so if you could pass on my thanks."
"I would be honored to do so, my lady."
"By the way," Jaenera said. "Would it be possible to know of Lord Ormonnis' full name?"
"Of course, my lady." The overseer said with another bow. "His lordship has the honor of bearing the name of Thoreo Ormonnis, of the line of General Brachyros Iranohr."
"I see…a general…I would like to see some reference materials on the history of my host's family, after I finish my meal."
"Of course my lady, it will be done."
Jaenera nodded, and with another bow the overseer left. Turning back to her meal, Jaenera held back a sigh at the overwhelming repast offered to her tonight. A pile of roasted pork chops rested on a silver platter, along with a rich, cheese-based soup of onions, peas, and carrots, resting in a deep bowl of fired porcelain from Yi Ti. There was plenty of bread, freshly baked from an oven, and a wide selection of wines.
Too rich a fare for her, at least since her brother left for Dragonstone twelve years ago by her reckoning, though given how the world had changed, that was actually four hundred years ago now. Since then, she'd subsisted on simpler fare, or at least with smaller servings than tonight.
Selecting two wines, one red and one white, Jaenera instructed for them to be watered down to prevent her from getting drunk too quickly, and taking a loaf of bread broke it before tearing off a piece to start her dinner with. "
Volantis is ours, as it should be." She thought as she mixed olive oil and vinegar in a small saucer, her mind wandering back to the meeting earlier. "
But it's less than it should be. And the other Free Cities just might get in our way. What a pain…then again, I'm a soldier, so I shouldn't complain. Fighting is what I'm paid to do, after all."
On that thought, Jaenera poked her bread into the oil and vinegar mixture, and placing it into her mouth began to chew.
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A/N
'Dragonspawn' is such a blasé insult, considering how long Valyria's been around (~5000 years). I doubt they, or the dragonlords, have not been called that by their many enemies over the millennia. So sadly – well, not really – Robert's favorite insult is just a tired, old joke for the dragonlords, and only makes him and his fellow Andals look like a comedy in Valyrian eyes.
