Chapter 29: Favors and Foundations
Time: 87 AC - 88 AC
POV: Aerion Silvanor (and Kaelen Silvanor)
The sun, unfiltered and strong, streamed through the high windows of the Red Keep's royal solar as I stood before King Jaehaerys I. The morning after Princess Viserra's near-fatal fall had brought a palpable tension to the castle, quickly replaced by immense relief. Viserra herself, pale but unharmed, stood beside her father, her violet eyes meeting mine with a mixture of awe and fervent gratitude.
"Prince Aerion," King Jaehaerys began, his voice deeper than usual, tinged with genuine emotion, "words seem insufficient to convey my thanks. You saved my daughter's life. A life I thought, for a terrifying moment, was lost to the storm and the folly of youth." His gaze, usually so shrewd and assessing, now held a profound, personal debt. "The Targaryens do not forget such a debt. Name your boon, Prince. Anything within my power to grant."
I bowed my head slightly, maintaining the formal dignity of my position. "Your Grace, there is no need for boons or rewards. It was a matter of swift intervention, a duty to prevent tragedy. Any knight, any true man, would have done the same, had they the means." My words were humble, but my quiet strength, and the subtle resonance in my voice, hinted at the unique means I possessed. I glanced at Viserra. Her beauty, even in her pallor, was striking. There was a raw, human vulnerability about her that, for reasons I was still unravelling, stirred something deep within my ancient heart. She offered a small, hesitant smile, a glimmer of relief in her eyes.
"Nonetheless, Prince," Jaehaerys insisted, his brow furrowed, "a life for a life. Consider it offered, should you ever have need."
"Your Grace is too kind," I replied. "However, my current path leads me homeward. My long sojourn in Westeros and at the Citadel has concluded. It is time for me to return to Sothoryos, to His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Kaelen. I leave knowing that the bond between our two realms has only strengthened, and that the peace we both cherish will continue to flourish."
Jaehaerys nodded, a faint understanding in his eyes. He knew that one such as I did not linger indefinitely. "Then, Prince, may your journey be swift and safe. The gates of King's Landing, and the hospitality of the Iron Throne, will always be open to you, and to your esteemed Emperor."
After a final, respectful bow, I departed, the gratitude in Jaehaerys's gaze a potent, unspoken asset for the future. Viserra remained silent, her eyes following me until I passed from sight. The warmth in her gaze was something new, a quiet acknowledgment of a connection forged in the crucible of a near-death.
My return to Ael'tharion would not be direct. Emperor Kaelen had one final, crucial task for me before I could report on my decade-long journey: a visit to Braavos, the Free City of mysteries, wealth, and the silent, all-seeing power of the Iron Bank. My father, in his foresight, sought to elevate the Silvanar Empire's financial standing and influence on the global stage. He wished to become a Key Holder of the Iron Bank.
The journey to Braavos, flying on Veridian, was swift. The transition from the rigid stone and political intrigue of Westeros to the bustling, canal-laced labyrinth of Braavos was striking. The city was a monument to commerce, its myriad waterways teeming with ships from every corner of the known world, its air alive with a thousand languages and the clamor of trade. Even the colossal Titan of Braavos, grim and watchful over the harbor, seemed less a god and more a stern banker.
The Iron Bank itself was a fortress of a different kind: austere, impregnable, and radiating an almost palpable aura of immense, ancient wealth. Its faceless façade, devoid of ornament, spoke of discretion and unyielding principle. I was ushered through labyrinthine corridors by silent, robed figures, until I reached a private chamber, sparsely furnished but exuding an undeniable power.
Seated behind a plain, massive oak table were three individuals: the First Keyholder, an elderly man with eyes that seemed to have seen every coin in the world; a young, shrewd-looking woman of obvious intelligence; and a third, whose face was obscured by deep shadows, lending them an unnerving air of anonymity. These were the true masters of the Iron Bank, the unassailable pillars of the world's economy.
"Prince Aerion Silvanor," the First Keyholder stated, his voice dry as parchment, "your presence is... noted. We understand your esteemed Emperor, Kaelen Silvanor, seeks a deeper engagement with the Iron Bank. He wishes to become a Key Holder."
I met their unblinking gazes, my own Elven composure unyielding. "Indeed. His Imperial Majesty understands the unique position of the Iron Bank. He seeks not merely financial services, but strategic partnership, a deeper integration into the global economic currents that only the Iron Bank can provide. In return, the Silvanar Empire offers unparalleled stability, vast, untapped resources, and a long-term vision that aligns with the very principles of prudent, eternal investment."
I spoke of the Empire's control over vast stretches of Sothoryos, regions rich in unique minerals, rare flora, and unmatched agricultural potential. I described our living cities, our self-sustaining economies, our unparalleled trade networks that flowed unimpeded even through the most turbulent regions of Essos. I subtly hinted at the deep knowledge and long lifespans of my people, allowing for millennia-long planning and unwavering commitment. "Our prosperity is not subject to the whims of mortal kings or short-sighted ambition," I stated, my pointy ears a subtle, yet stark, statement of my difference. "It is rooted in the very earth, guided by a wisdom that predates much of recorded history. Such stability, such guaranteed returns over centuries, is a unique proposition, even for the Iron Bank."
The discussion was protracted, meticulous. They probed our resource management, our security, our internal governance. They asked about the Belaerys alliance, the dragons under our sway, understanding the immense power that added to our credit. I answered with candor where prudence allowed, and with polite mystery where necessary. They did not grant Kaelen's request immediately; the Iron Bank never moved without exhaustive deliberation. But their interest was palpable. The First Keyholder's final words were, "Prince Aerion, your Emperor's proposal is... substantial. We will deliberate. A direct envoy will be dispatched to Ael'tharion within the year to conduct further, deeper assessments. Be assured, the Iron Bank is always keen on alliances that promise enduring prosperity." The groundwork had been laid. The door to unparalleled financial power had been opened.
The journey home to Sothoryos was a profound relief. As Veridian soared over the familiar emerald canopy of my homeland, I felt the tension of the human world begin to melt away, replaced by the deep, resonant hum of Ael'tharion, a living welcome home.
I found my father, Emperor Kaelen, in his private meditation grove, the ancient trees seeming to breathe with his every breath. He opened his emerald eyes as I approached, a flicker of paternal pride in their depths.
"Aerion," he greeted, his voice calm, "you return. And with much to tell, I sense."
I knelt before him, then rose as he gestured. "Indeed, Father. The diplomatic ties with King Jaehaerys are strong. He is a wise ruler, and our relationship promises to be one of enduring peace and mutual benefit." I recounted the details of my official visit, the discussions, the formal agreements.
Then, I moved to the unexpected. "And I had the... unforeseen opportunity to save Princess Viserra Targaryen from a perilous fall. Her father, the King, extended his deepest gratitude and offered a boon in return. I believe it solidifies their trust and respect for our Empire beyond mere agreements." I omitted, for now, the more personal stirring in my heart. That was a matter for another, more private, discussion.
Kaelen listened, a faint smile touching his lips. "A life saved, a debt incurred. Such acts, when truly selfless, weave bonds stronger than treaties. It was well done, my son."
Finally, I spoke of Braavos. "The Iron Bank received me. They are cautious, as expected, but intrigued by your proposal for Key Holder status. I presented our case for unparalleled stability and eternal returns. They will dispatch an envoy to Ael'tharion within the year for a deeper assessment."
My father's eyes, deep and ancient, gleamed with satisfaction. "Excellent, Aerion. The Iron Bank is the heart of global commerce. To truly guide the currents of this world, one must not only command natural power and political influence, but also possess the key to its immense wealth. You have laid the foundation for us to do precisely that." He paused, his gaze meeting mine, and I saw a quiet pride that warmed me to my core. "You have accomplished much, my son. More than even I fully anticipated in your 'little visit' to Westeros. You have proven yourself not just a diplomat, but a true architect of the Empire's future."
The warmth of his words, the quiet acknowledgment of my efforts, settled within me. I had navigated the treacherous waters of human courts, earned the respect of a King, and opened the door to immense financial power. Yet, even as I spoke of these triumphs, a singular image persisted in my mind: the startled violet eyes of Princess Viserra, and the sudden, profound awakening of my own ancient heart. That, I knew, was a conversation for another day, a new, complex challenge that lay ahead.
Aerion has reported back to Kaelen, securing diplomatic and financial inroads.