Blood of Dragons

Under skies darkened by rain and thunder, King Aegon IV Targaryen gathered the realm’s nobility, knights, and merchant lords in the Throne Room of the Red Keep for a court session that will long be remembered. Against a backdrop of blood-striped marble and the grim leer of dragon skulls, His Grace mounted the Iron Throne with a heavy crown upon his brow and a glint of restless humor in his violet gaze.

The session opened with joyful news: the date for the forthcoming weding of Princess Elaena Targaryen to Lord Ossifer Plumm was proclaimed, and a grand tournament and feast promised. If Princess Elaena’s demeanor suggested little delight in her fate, the King took no heed. Lord Plumm, in turn, was elevated further, granted the office of one of the Keeper of Keys to oversee the Crown’s manors and lodges about the city.

Reforms to the royal household followed, many noting that men who stood high in the king’s graces receiving honors. Ser Morgil Hastwyck was named Master of Horse, succeeding a post that has seen occupants come and go with rapidity since the death of Swiftspur; Ser Quentyn Ball, known as “Fireball,” rose to master-at-arms, promising a fiercer hand in the training yards. Lord Ambrose Butterwell, a steadfast supporter of the Crown, was elevated to Royal Steward, and his grandson Ambrose the Younger was taken into the royal household as a squire.

Not all changes were by royal decree alone. Ser Conrad Arryn resigned his post to return to the Vale, citing unrest among the mountain clans and the call of his brother. Ser Noel Upcliff, mthe former master-at-arms, also resigned, withdrawing to the Vale at Lord Arryn’s call. Their absences, and the quiet speed with which they were accepted, spoke volumes.

Ser Jan Marbrand, long Warden of the Kingswood, was dismissed outright for failing to check the brigands who had infested those woods, and the king’s wroth was clear, suggested Marbrand was no longer welcome in his court. In his place, Ser Endros Buckler was named warden, and Ser Otho Royce elevated to deputy, praised for their recent conduct against the outlaws.

The King’s Justice, Ser Crispin Donniger, was permitted retirement after decades of loyal service, awarded a towerhouse and hunting rights near the Kingswood. To replace him, His Grace announced an unprecedented contest: would-be canddidaets would demonstrate their skill by executing condemned criminals before the court, with the worthiest to be chosen by royal favor. The announcement drew both fascination and unease among those assembled.

Among the most watched petitions came from Ser Omrys Baratheon, battered but unbowed from his campaign in the Kingswood. He presented His Grace with a thick tome recounting their victories, laden with praise, and petitioned for the office of High Reeve. Smiling, the King “recalled” that Ser Myles Hightower would receive that honor instead. To Omrys was offered the lesser office of Chief Gaoler. After a moment’s struggle, Omrys declined and chose to remain in his current duties, the matter passing with little further comment.

Ser Luthor Rivers came forth to request recognition for the knights who bled at the holdfast of Stoneback: the Toyne brothers, Ser Dermett Corbray, Ser Orbert Farman, Ser Joffrey Caswell, Ser Omrys Baratheon, and others. Though His Grace acknowledged their service with sweeping gratitude, he could not resist musing aloud on how a single unknown robber knight had escaped them all, a pointed reminder that triumph had not been complete. Luthor’s second request, to restore the gold cloaks’ salaries to what they were before the king’s failed invasion of Dorne pressed the crown’s resources, was met with a vague assurance that the Master of Coin would review the matter—a promise as light as autumn mist.

Petitions from lesser lords and common folk were thereafter heard in a flood. His Grace dispensed judgment with cheerful spontaneity: a merchant’s dispute was decided with a jest; a lordling’s request for tax relief was waved away; a comely widow’s plea brought the King’s personal promise of intervention. Justice was served more by whim than rule, each case a reflection of His Grace’s mood at the moment.

Among the nobler causes was that of Lady Arwen Westerling, who moved the court with a petition to establish a charitable foundation for the city’s women and children. His Grace embraced the cause with open arms, pledging royal funds and inviting the court to follow his example, a gesture that drew murmured approval even among those who knew the Queen’s Veiled Ladies had long toiled at such work in quieter fashion.

Before adjourning, King Aegon announced a suspension in the construction of the Great Sept of Baelor, citing prudent inspection of its foundations. He further declared the extension of trading privileges to select merchants of the Free Cities, a boon celebrated by some, but others looked to the Lyseni Danilo Erosenes who was rumored to have been a panderer, procuring women for the king to win such favor.

Thus the court concluded, as His Grace descended from the Iron Throne, trailed by courtiers who pressed close like moths to flame. The day’s judgments left the court both dazzled and uneasy, the realm shifting upon the whims of a dragon king whose favor burned bright—and whose indifference could chill to the bone.