Chapter 34: Black Eyed Fury

Ser Baelon Waters

Volantis was warm, even in winter, there was heat. It made a pleasant change from Westeros, which Baelon knew would be cold, freezingly cold for there was neither the heat nor the warmth that seemed to be constantly echoing in Volantis. Baelon found that he preferred this heat, to the damnable cold he had felt in Westeros for most of his life. Especially when according to rumour the winter that was upon them now was meant to be the longest and coldest of winter's since the Long Night itself, not that Baelon believed in such tales of course, but still the warmth in winter made for a nice change.

It had been a long time since he had conquered Volantis, he had not truly counted the days nor the years that would have passed, but he knew he had been King of the city for some time. It had not been easy at first, convincing his great nephew Valarr to support him in his quest for Volantis, he had known that his nephew had been suspicious of him, and rightfully so he had on the advice of his son declared for Aegon the usurper instead of for Lucerys and then Aemon, it was only when he had learnt of how Aemond the kinslayer had killed Aemon- there was no honour in what that brat did- that he decided he would never be able to fight for a King like Aegon, and so he offered his services to Valarr. The terms had been simple, he would use his dragon and his men to undermine the Green regime, and in return he simply wished for support from Valarr in conquering Volantis, of course Baelon would never formally acknowledge where the support had come from, it suited them both better that way. Valarr had reluctantly agreed, and so once all was said and done and that cunt Daemon lay dead in the Blackwater, Valarr gave Baelon some 10,000 men and some 100 warships to conquer Volantis.

The men who had joined Baelon and his new companion the girl Nettles, had been second and third sons desperate for glory and for a piece of the new kingdom that Baelon envisioned for himself. All apart from Lord Maron Blacktyde, his nephew's master of ships, the fool had resigned what had been a comfortable position for him and had decided to bring the whole of the Iron Fleet- what was left of it anyway- with him as he joined Baelon and fought to conquer Volantis. It had not all been plain sailing though, Volantis had developed a fiercesome reputation since the Doom, and had allies in the Slaver cities. Yunkai, Astapor and Meereen had banded together and with sellsword companies had fought Baelon and his men, but the armies these allies brought to the field had never fought dragons before, they were not the Three Daughters- an alliance that was fragmenting even as Baelon invaded- and so though they won some early victories- most notably at Volon Therys- but eventually the inevitable happened, and Baelon won, slaying the three Triarchs atop the Black Wall, and there the nobles of Volantis had been subdued and had bent the knee. He had been recognised as the King then.

That had been some time ago, and there had not been an easy transition, some of those pious idiots at the Temple of the Lord of Light, had tried to kill Baelon and his dragon, but they were fire made flesh, or at least the Cannibal was and they easily dealt with the fools who tried to become dragonslayers. The Temple, Baelon left unharmed- he never believed in desecrating holy places- but those who served the order he killed, feeding either to the Cannibal or the Sheepstealer. He then ordered a declaration that the gods of Old Valryia would be followed once more and surprisingly enough the people of Volantis fell back easily into the ways of the Freehold. Looking back now, Baelon had to admit that perhaps the people of Volantis had never truly given up the ways of the Freehold, not the tigers anyway, the elephants, well they had given Baelon homage, once their leader, some idiot called Baloiss was fed to the Cannibal.

Baelon had ordered a great castle built to house himself and his dragon, and the children he would have- for a king must have an heir- and work on the castle had been completed some two moons ago, the halls were lined with finery depicting dragons and the old lore from Valyria, the throne itself was carved in the shape of a dragon skull, and the castle had many rooms, bedrooms, and halls with which to feast in. Baelon and Nettles were wed in sight of the throne room, in the way the Dragonlords of old would have been, she was a fiery girl his wife, it was something he had admired about her from the minute he had set eyes on her when she had been that bastard Daemon's lover, now she was his wife, and his queen. And she had given birth to a son, a strong son, whom they had named Aenar, with silver hair and purple eyes. To go with Rhaenys, her daughter by Daemon, whom Baelon was surprisingly fond of, he doted on her, he knew the princess.

Baelon knew of course that was not a young man, and that he would need to consolidate his power to make sure there were no rebellions when Aenar and Rhaenys came to power once he was dead, and so he spent time politicking, doing the things he had hated doing in the riverlands and Dragonstone and court, as a dead prince's bastard. He found he had a surprisingly good skill at doing so, he named Vorgo Maegyr his hand, and named him lord of Volon Therys, which had become a prosperous town since Volantis had become a kingdom again. His council was made up of both Westerosi and Volanteene. Ser Garth Tyrell, he had named as his master of laws, Ser Borros Rivers he had named Lord Commander of his guard and Ser Desmond Hill he named as his master of ships, Tycho Bravo one of the wealthiest men in Volantis he named as his master of providence, the man had become rich through food after all, he named Meloroqo Vorgor he named as master of the religion, and Salladhor Mopatis he named as master of coin. A mixture of young and old, but experienced and hungry for honour and glory, they had served him well so far. Volantis was prospering as a kingdom, trading with Bravos and with Mantarys, Tolos and even as far as Norvos and Qohor. They had added the villages of Volon Therys, Valysar, Sar Mell and Selhorys to the kingdom, and the villages had turned into towns whose economy was based on commerce and food, of which there surprisingly plenty despite it being winter. Yes there was much for Baelon to be happy of.

Still there were things to be done, Baelon knew he did not have long to live, he had turned seventy a week back, and the new year had been heralded shortly afterwards. There was still much he wished to do, and so he had summoned his council to discuss what things needed to be done. He looked about the room Ser Garth looked tired, he had most likely been out fucking the whores that seemed so plentiful as of late, Ser Borros looked alert and steadfast his black armour glittering as the sunlight came into the room. Baelon spoke then, his voice husky. "Thank you my lords from coming at such short notice. As you all know, Volantis and its kingdom continues to prosper, Ser Desmond writes that he shall be back from Bravos soon enough with more gold and more food. But there is one more thing I would wish to discuss with you. The Three Daughters and their splintering."

At this Tycho Bravo's head perked up and Vorgo Maegyr smiled slightly. "What of the Three Daughters Your Grace?" Bravo asked curiously.

Baelon took a sip of water before he spoke. "Reports say the alliance is falling apart, that the heads of Myr and Tyrosh are arguing and that Lys wants peace. I want to know if we can conquer them, and bring them back into the fold."

"The fold Your Grace?" Vorgor asked.

"Aye the fold. I hols Volantis and the towns around it. Bravos lives in fear of us and the dragons, and Qohor and Norvos have seen the sense to trade with us. Pentos and the Slaver Cities are foolish enough to continue to resist our power, but should we conquer the Three Daughters and bring them into the fold, then Valyria will rise again, and the Slaver Cities shall burn." Baelon said his voice passionate.

"A venerable idea Your Grace," Bravo began. "But how will we conquer the three daughters without leaving Volantis vulnerable? Unless you mean to ask Westeros for help?"

Baelon snarled slightly at that, he was old yes, but not so old that he did not get what Bravo was implying. "No, we shall not be asking Westeros for help, Valarr has enough problems of his own. Besides, Bravos has already spoken with Ser Desmond, and has promised us men. The Three Daughters are ripe for the taking, they are in chaos, their leaders are bickering with one another, and Pentos is in the hands of some fat old man whose days are numbered. No we shall not need Westeros help."

Salladhor Mopatis spoke then. "The conquering of the Three Daughters will cost money Your Grace. Though of course we do have enough to fund a short war, and the Iron Bank can always be called upon should the need arise. Shall I write to the nobles and ask them to put up the funds?"

Baelon nodded. "Aye tell them to put the funds up, we shall be marching soon enough. The fleet will be ready once Ser Desmond returns from Bravos."

Ser Borros spoke then. "If I may be so bold Your Grace, will you be calling all of the levies for this engagement?"

Baelon nodded once more. "I shall Ser Borros. Though the Three Daughters are divided, we will pose a common enemy, we must have our full strength. Ser Steffon Stonefyre shall be holding the kingdom in my absence and shall be there when the envoys from Asshai arrive."

Ser Borros nodded and so the council meeting came to a close. Baelon began walking back to his chambers, where he hoped Nettles was waiting for him, he had felt urges towards her for a while now, ever since she had told him she was pregnant. Maegyr caught up with him, breathing heavily. "Your Grace, a word if you please?" The man said.

Baelon stopped and looked at the man. "What my lord?"

"A letter came for you from a friend across the narrow sea. The messenger said it was urgent." Maegyr replied.

Baelon took the letter from Maegyr, and broke the seal and read it quickly. He cursed slightly under his breath, the fools. Valarr had given them what they deserved, now Storm's End would most definitely pass to his son. He turned to Maegyr and said. "Tell the city watch to expect a man dressed in a hooded black cloak with a tinge of red on it, in two days time."

With that he walked to his chambers, and found Aenar and Rhaenys playing, whilst Nettles sat on the bed a contented look on her face. He walked to the bed and sat down, just as both Aenar and Rhaenys ran into his arms. He lifted them both up and spoke "Have you both been good for your mother?"

"Yes Papa!" They chorused.

"Good now, I'm going to put you down and I want you to both go and play in the back room. I must speak with your mother now." Baelon said mock sternly. He put them down and the children ran to the back room where most of their toys were. He turned to Nettles and found that she had a smile on her face. He felt himself stirring then, but he put such thoughts away from his mind, he needed to speak with her.

Nettles kissed him on the lips and then asked him. "How was the council?"

Baelon sighed slightly as he thumped down onto the bed. "Good, they agreed to the measure of attacking the Three Daughters."

"That is good." His wife said as she moved in closer to him, he pulled her against his chest.

"How have you and the babe been?" Baelon asked.

"We have been well. Your son has been most active Your Grace." Nettles said, her eyes twinkling,

"That is good. There has been news from Westeros Netty." Baelon said slowly. He saw her stiffen slightly but then she relaxed and he went on. "It seems Lords Corbray, Grafton and Melcolm were foolish enough to accuse the Queen Sylvia of High Treason by fornicating with Ser Boremund Storm. Complete rubbish of course. But the King had all three lords fed to his dragon for the accusation and Lord Corbray's brother tried to raise a rebel host to avenge him. Valarr burnt Heart's Home to the ground, killing Corbray's brother as well as the man's wife and child. Houses Melcolm and Grafton are trying to flee across the sea now, to Volantis."

Nettles looked at him then and asked. "You won't let them come here though will you?"

"No. Lords Melcolm and Grafton and their families will die the minute they sail close to the ports of Volantis. I have told my men to fire at their ships. But no that news is old. It seems that the Stormlords are conspiring to put Laenor Targaryen on the seat of Storm's End. They do not like having Edric Baratheon as their lord, but of course that could be a ruse for a rebellion. Of course, Valarr has shown that he has control, House Bracken has been given the ruin of the Twins, their lands given to House Blackwood, and the Freys, Smallwood and Goodbrook are all extinguished. Aegon Arryn and his wife are expecting a child, and more dragons have hatched for Valarr. Still there is more. We shall be expecting someone in two days time."

"Whom?" Nettles asked.

Baelon grimaced slightly. "An old friend of yours. Ser Boremund Storm."