Days passed. Months passed. Everyone sank into the quiet comfort of peace, save for the discordant voices of those who had lost something in the Westerlands.
But there were only two kinds of people in the world who stayed coldest: soldiers and politicians. They had to be the calmest, the most detached. They needed will beyond the human, and distance beyond the mundane.
King Jaehaerys and Lord Staunton continued to send out scouts with stubborn frequency, most stationed in the Westerlands and the Reach, watching the shape of things to come.
Jaehaerys, Lord Staunton, and Ser Gerold sat in the council chamber. A young politician trained by the king's own hand was also present: Rhaegar.
Then a steward announced something unexpected.
"By His Majesty's grace, Ser Corlys of Driftmark has come bearing gifts to celebrate the realm's victory."
The men exchanged glances.
House Velaryon had once shone brightly, bound to the dragon kings by three marriages. Now it was a house in twilight. Since the passing of two legendary figures, the Sea Snake and Oakenfist, House Velaryon had withered year by year. In the future, its fortunes would only worsen, until perhaps two or three ships were all that remained.
The silver-bankers of House Rogare in Lys, and House Velaryon of Driftmark, could be counted among the fastest-falling of the great lords.
"His Majesty is occupied with affairs of state," Lord Staunton said. "Should Ser Corlys leave his gifts, and let another steward convey our thanks in turn?"
He had heard of this young Velaryon knight. They said his moods were mercurial. Young, and eager to restore his house's glory. Such men were dangerous.
"If it were anyone else, I would not receive them," King Jaehaerys said, though his body was weak and his voice carried old affection. "But House Velaryon of Driftmark has deep ties to the crown. Let us see him."
Rhaegar looked around the chamber. Each face wore a different shade of thought.
The decline of House Velaryon was historical fact. With the extinction of the dragons and the burning of Driftmark's wealth, their old power and riches had long since vanished.
Land and strategic depth were still the foundation of noble survival. After all, Westeros remained a land power.
The visitor had the distinctive silver hair and violet eyes of Valyrian descent. He was Corlys Velaryon of Hull.
Corlys wore robes of bright blue, doing everything he could to seem youthful. But Rhaegar thought the cut of the cloth looked outdated.
Corlys had not adorned himself with lavish gold and silver jewelry. That suggested he truly was poor.
Rhaegar knew this man. This fallen Corlys. Later, he would even rise to Master of Ships, fawning before Aerys, delighting in sowing chaos, and helping to poison the bond between father and son. Aerys's dogs were mostly cut from the same cloth as Julien Sorel, willing to do anything to climb.
Deep inside, Rhaegar felt distaste for the man. Perhaps it was bias born of knowledge.
King Jaehaerys had seats prepared for the guest, along with fine drink and small pastries.
"Your Majesty," Corlys said, his face handsome but crawling with flattery, "hearing of the realm's great victory at the Stepstones, I, as a descendant of the great Sea Snake, have brought gifts for the dragon king."
"You and I share common descent, both heirs of Old Valyria," Jaehaerys said. "You need not be so formal."
Rhaegar caught the king's gaze. There was more pity and lament in it than disgust.
The dragonlords had lost their dragons, yet still clung to rule through the Crownlands and King's Landing. House Velaryon, with its narrow holdings, had truly fallen.
Corlys had the gifts brought in.
The first was an exquisite harp. The second was a double-curved black dragonglass longbow, as tall as a young man, and wrought with masterful care.
Rhaegar's eyes brightened.
Corlys had truly spent his treasure. The harp was unremarkable, but the dragonglass bow was a marvel.
Dragonglass had high iron content, hardness to match iron, yet lightness and flexibility. For archery enthusiasts, such a thing was priceless. For someone with Bloodraven's skill with arrows, this bow would be perfect.
Corlys saw the joy flicker across Rhaegar's face and felt a surge of delight in his chest. The task was halfway complete.
Giving gifts directly to the king did not always work. But King Jaehaerys doted on his grandson Rhaegar, always keeping the prince at his side. And this fortunate Rhaegar was gifted in many fields, and possessed unusual energy. They said he had great talent in both martial skill and music, and surely had strong interest in both. The boy had been indulged.
"Your Grace, these gifts are far too precious," King Jaehaerys said, his own surprise evident.
"Finally, there is one more gift, for this handsome young prince."
Corlys drew a small jewelry box from his robes, determined to present the offering in full. This was Corlys's most treasured possession, a family heirloom House Velaryon had preserved and passed down through generations. Yet after years of study, it had proven to be nothing more than a beautiful ring.
Inside the delicate box lay a small bronze-colored ring. It seemed to be made of Valyrian steel, slender and beautiful. Fire-like patterns were engraved on the ring, sparks intertwining, elegant and ancient, as if one could see flames burning bright.
"This ring was obtained by my ancestor, the great Sea Snake, during one of his voyages," Corlys said respectfully. "It is said to be a lost treasure ring. Now I present it to Prince Rhaegar."
Rhaegar looked at the ring, and something stirred inside him.
He stepped forward, gazing at the ring. His own Life Tree template flickered once more.
"May I touch it, my lord?" Rhaegar asked.
"Of course, noble prince."
Rhaegar moved closer and gently brushed his fingers across the ring.
The ring seemed to give off a moist luster, soothing to the touch.
Collection: Lost Dragonlord's Ring. This ring originates from the great House Belaerys. Within the ring may lie the vast wealth with which the dragonlords summoned wind and rain. But little dragon, your flame is still young; you can only unlock a portion of it.
Rhaegar's heart surged with joy. The collection system had finally activated.
This ring was even more precious than the dragonglass bow. None of the treasures he had encountered before had triggered a response from the collection system. It seemed only objects of unparalleled rarity could awaken it.
House Belaerys had been one of the most illustrious of the Forty Dragonlord families, far surpassing middling and lower houses like Targaryen. Who knew what secrets this dragonlord's ring truly held?
Rhaegar slipped the ring onto his finger. This was the first pot of gold he had gained, and his goodwill toward the sycophant Corlys shot upward.
Though the man was repulsive, he could still be cultivated as one of his subordinates.