Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've been working morning shifts this past week, and it's been a bit of a challenge to find time to write—especially with my other hobbies taking up a lot of my free time.
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POV 3rd.
Vealor was currently in his chambers, sitting at his desk, sifting through missive after missive which his agents had sent from all around the kingdom.
He was currently reading (feeling the text) a response from Dorne, where one of his trusted companions was. The missive explained how he was waiting for orders of confirmation from Vealor so that he could act according to their plans.
Vealor, who felt the parchment in his hand a couple of times more, went to grab an empty stack and his quill so he could write the responses he had in mind to most of the missives.
Though before his quill could land on the parchment, his senses picked up movement from outside his chambers.
Before there was a knock.
"Come in," he said calmly, already having smelled his mother.
Rheanyra, who came into the room, looked around her son's chambers, eyes widening a little at how minimalistic the room was. There was a bed, a desk, and a lone seat next to the entrance of the balcony, which had a lute reclining on it.
Rheanyra, who gave the room a once-over, turned to look at her son, who was behind a stack of parchment, neatly separated into piles. The son in question stood up, wearing his nightly attire—a black toga that had red and gold linings—his walking stick ever-present in his hand as he walked to the edge of the room to get a flask and a cup.
"Come, sit, mother," he said, gently urging his mother to approach him as he took a seat next to the desk full of parchments. Rheanyra also approached, taking a stool and sitting down in front of her son.
Vealor gently placed a cup in front of her before pouring her the contents of the flask in his hand, which turned out to be a steaming liquid that reminded Rheanyra of flowers.
"What is this?" she asked, as Vealor's nose twitched and he made a light frown in thought. "It's a herbal tea from the land of YiTi. It calms the nerves," he explained, Rheanyra raising her brow as she took the cup from her son's hand and took a sip, her eyes widening as the taste invaded her mouth.
Vealor, who observed her movements and mood, gave her a knowing smile. "Good, right?" he asked, Rheanyra looking at her son's maskless face as she took her time printing the image in her head, for it was becoming a rare sight to see him without his intimidating masks.
"Y...yes," she stuttered, embarrassed for having stared for too long.
There was a silence between the mother and son as one sipped on her tea while the other looked at an angle, holding his walking stick under his chin in thought, no sound coming from the chamber except for the occasional splash of waves and the cracking of wood in the fire.
"I sent them to the Crownlands so that they could fortify some of the lands and castles. It would have been foolish not to," Vealor began, shaking his head with a sigh, knowing full well that the reason his mother was visiting at this hour was to confront him on undermining her.
Rheanyra, who froze for but a moment, went back to taking a sip from her tea before she looked at her calm son, not showing any emotion as he reclined his head in an odd angle that had come to unnerve her.
Rheanyra, who was starting to realize that her son had taken control of the conversation, cleared her throat before sitting more upright. "Then you know you have disobeyed me?" she asked as she looked at her son, waiting for any reaction, any whatsoever. But she got nothing other than a slight head movement.
"Yes," he said, nodding, before adding, "And I'm ready to take any punishment you deem worthy for my actions, Your Grace." Vealor added, making Rheanyra, who tried to stay calm, panic a little as she spilled the hot tea on her lap.
"UGH," she grunted in pain, Vealor, for the first time since Rheanyra stepped into the room, showing emotion as he stood up in concern.
"Mother, are you okay?" he asked as he extended his hand and took the hot cup from her hand, Rheanyra having taken out a handkerchief to wipe the hot tea.
"Yes, I'm fine, no worries," she said, wiping the last bit of the tea away as she looked at the face of her son, which held only worry on it. And as she stared at his face, she shook her head in resignation before saying, "You did well, Vealor," which seemed to confuse him for the first time as he tilted his head.
"You acted quickly. You knew this was something that could not have been delayed, and I made the mistake of putting you in a difficult position," she said, once again making Vealor more confused as he slowly sat back down, tilting his head, before asking, "You...are not angry?" in a measured tone, surprised at himself for asking such a question, for he could sense the tension of anger in her.
"At you, no, I am not," she said, hinting there was still something that she was wroth over, yet it seemed it was not her son. And as Vealor looked at her in surprise, he could not help but feel taken aback as he asked, "Why, though? You seemed so opposed to the idea in the council meeting. So why aren't you angry?" he questioned logically, because he was under the impression that his mother would actually punish him for his transgressions. And then, of course, there was the stunt he pulled with Rhaena; he would not have been surprised if she did not want him in her council meeting after everything he had done.
Even though they were all for the good of the House of the Dragon, he thought his mother would not have seen it that way...and it seems he was wrong about that.
Rheanyra, who heard her son's trail of questions, shook her head in a calm manner. "My anger or opposition, as you called it, did not come from your idea. It was a foolproof plan, and I should have approved of the idea in the council...yet," she said, hesitating as Vealor inclined closer to his mother, imitating the word as he said, "Yet?"
"Yet, I knew if I agreed with your proposal, you would be off with your men, fighting in the frontlines, and that is something I cannot have you do," she finally revealed the reason she was so opposed to his idea.
Vealor, hearing her reasoning, furrowed his brows in confusion. "That goes without saying, mother," he said, the confusion evident in his tone as he wondered where the problem truly lay.
Rheanyra, hearing her son's response, smiled lightly before extending her hand and placing it gently over Vealor's hand, which held his walking stick firmly in place. "I'm okay with anything, Vealor. Sending your men out, corresponding with agents I don't even know about," she said, inclining her head slightly, which Vealor could not see but still felt through her voice. "I am okay with all of it, so long as it does not involve you riding off to battle with Abraxas, sword in hand," she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her worry.
Vealor, who sat there processing her words, remained silent for a moment. His brows furrowed deeper, the confusion only growing. "They are my men, mother, and as their leader, I need to be at the forefront of assaults. That is the way!" Vealor voiced his opinion, still perplexed. Since as far back as he could remember, this had always been his role—leading his men into battle, fighting alongside them, protecting them as they protected him. His mother's challenge to this deeply held belief left him baffled rather than angered.
Hearing her son's reasoning, Rheanyra shook her head in quiet opposition. "No, that is not the way. A king should stay protected so that the kingdom can remain intact," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. Vealor was so taken aback by her words that, for the first time in a long while, he lost his composure and raised his voice.
"A king's place is at the front, not behind walls. To hide from battle is to abandon his people," he said firmly, standing up. His voice carried the passion of his conviction, his mind flashing with memories of his grandfather's lessons. "Leadership is not about preserving one's life but about inspiring many. When the king fights alongside his soldiers, he strengthens their resolve and shows that his fate is tied to theirs!" he explained, his tone resolute, his grip on his walking stick so tight that his knuckles turned white.
Rheanyra's eyes widened as she listened to the intensity in her son's words, her heart both aching and swelling with pride at his conviction.
Before she could respond, Vealor continued, his voice unwavering. "A kingdom needs a king who leads with courage, not one who seeks safety from others, Mother. That is the king I aspire to be, and that is the king grandfather wanted me to be," he said, his voice lowering slightly but losing none of its firmness.
For a moment, there was only silence between them. Rheanyra stared at her son's scarred and blind features, taking in the fiery determination in his stance. Slowly, she stood up, leveling her gaze with his. Despite the physical scars that marked her son, she could see the strength and conviction that burned within him—the kind of strength that could unite kingdoms and inspire loyalty.
The tension in the room thickened as they stood face-to-face, neither willing to back down. The crackling fire and the distant sound of waves outside the balcony seemed to echo the charged atmosphere.
A knock at the chamber door broke the spell.
The door creaked open to reveal Yue, who entered hesitantly, his face reflecting the awkwardness of interrupting such an intense moment.
"My lord, Your Grace," Yue said, bowing slightly to both Vealor and Rheanyra. "A council meeting. It's urgent news," he explained, his tone measured but carrying the weight of importance.
Vealor and Rheanyra exchanged a brief glance, their unspoken words promising to revisit the conversation.
For now, duty called.
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Looking at the chaos unfolding as I sat on the opposite side of the table where my mother usually sat, I observed how urgently Beala was retelling her encounter with Ser Criston and a dozen or so knights.
"Perhaps they were a scouting party of a larger force," Rheana added, standing to the left of Beala, who turned to her sister and nodded.
My grandmother, who stood to my left, shifted in worry as she brought her hands together, yet it did not show in her visage. My grandfather had left for Driftmark many days back, and it seemed to have left my grandmother in a weary state.
I shifted my observation back to the conversation at hand as the Maester, who stood to the right of my mother, stepped forward. "The ravens confirm it, Your Grace," he said, moving towards the painted table.
"Lord Farring has reported a large force moving northeast towards Rosby," he said, as I heard something being placed on the table.
Yue, who was standing behind me, inclined forward before whispering, "What do you think we should do, my lord? Ignis has positioned himself in our favor, as you commanded. This is to our benefit," he finished as I hummed in agreement, drumming my fingers on the table.
"Let's be patient first," I said, turning my head halfway toward Yue. "Let us hear what my cousin has to say; we'll talk about this later," to which he nodded before straightening his back.
All the while, my grandmother, who stood to my left, watched our interaction. I turned my maskless face towards her before giving her a nod of comfort, which she reciprocated, both of us turning to listen to what the queen had to say.
"Are you sure it was Cole? From such a great height, would it not have been difficult to see?" My mother asked Beala, who shifted uncomfortably before saying, "It was not such a great height, Your Grace." My mother turned to glare at the girl in question, while an amused smirk graced my lips.
"Your Grace, we commend Lady Beala for her sharp eyes, but we cannot delay any longer. The time for action is surely now," Lord Celtigar spoke with desperation, my mother, who was staring at Bheala's side profile, turning to her vassals.
"Your Grace, I must agree with Lord Celtigar and ask for leave for Rook's Rest, where I may fortify my lands," Lord Staunton spoke in a worried manner as I finally decided to voice my thoughts.
I tapped my walking stick on the ground to gain everyone's attention, the tension that was rising in the room dissipating as I slowly gathered my thoughts.
"I commend you for your urgency, my lords, but there is no need for that. I have already sent a quarter of my men to the Crownlands so they may fortify and protect your lands," I spoke, a pin-drop silence hanging as the lords looked at me in confusion.
Observing my mother's worried gaze, I decided to give her the credit for my actions so the lords would appreciate their queen more. "Her Grace changed her mind after our last council meeting, giving me permission to send one of my generals, Ignis, who you may all well know, to fortify your lands," I said, indicating Yue forward so he would show where exactly the men were stationed on the map.
"From the letters we have been exchanging, Ignis has sent around 5,000 men to each lord in the Crownlands and stationed himself in Lord Darklyn's territory, a little ways from Duskendale, so as to take Cole by surprise if he decided to take Duskendale." I said, the lords looking to my mother for confirmation as Yue worked to place the dragon statue on each house of the Crownlands.
"Is this true, Your Grace?" Lord Celtigar questioned, looking to my mother, who was looking between me and Lord Celtigar as I nodded to her ever so slightly, making sure it was as discreet as possible.
My mother, who finally understood what I was doing, cleared her throat before saying, "That's right, my lords, but we are not out of this yet. Yes, Vealor has sent his men, but if what the Maester and Beala say is true, then some of our vassals may yet fall." She said, getting nods from all around as the atmosphere calmed down.
"Then send us, Your Grace," Rheana said, who stood next to Beala. "I've been practicing with Vermithor, and Vealor says I'm ready, so send us, Your Grace," she said enthusiastically.
"She is right, Your Grace. We have foot soldiers on the ground; now all that is needed are dragons in the sky so we may root Cole and his forces to the ground before they themselves decide to enlist their own dragon," Ser Alfred argued, agreeing with Rheana, who nodded, all while my mother, who thought she finally had control over the meeting, looked on in surprise.
Through all of this, while I kept observing everyone's body language, one thing stood out to me, which made me both confused and curious.
The queen was hesitating.
She knew the actual fighting was going to happen sooner rather than later, yet now that it was actually starting, she seemed to not know how to act. And that concerned me because I knew the reason.
It all came down to her fears of us, her children, going out to war, and that made me... bitter.
There was a moment of silence as Mother locked eyes with my nonexistent ones, a silence descending as I wished with all my being that she would agree. Yet as she shook her head at Ser Alfred, she said, "I have heard your arguments and will consider them. For now, we trust that Vealor's army will be enough to keep Cole at bay," she said, the lords who were waiting for the queen to give the command to loose the dragons sighing in discontent.
My mother, who made to turn around once more, locked her gaze with mine as she stared at me hauntingly, longer than needed as some of the people in the room noticed, before turning on her heel and exiting the room.
There was silence afterward, the only sound being the torches that hung on the walls as the lords left one by one, in both satisfaction and worry.
Yue, who once again leaned in, whispered, "What do you think the queen is thinking?" He asked, observing as my grandmother left the room with both Rheana and Beala while I stayed seated on my chair.
"I don't know, Yue," I admitted, feeling the heat coming from under the painted table.
"But what I do know is that I have a bad feeling," I said, as I sat there and recalled the vision of a black dragon and a green maiden surrounded by the Seven-Pointed Star.
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