Chapter 31 — The Battle of the Vale
The Red Keep's banquet hall glimmered with firelight, its marble pillars painted gold by a thousand candles. The scent of roasted boar and sweet wine filled the air, yet beneath the surface of that warmth ran the cold edge of politics — and pride.
At the high table, Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, listened in silence as the news reached him:
Prince Baelon would soon take Prince Daemon with him on a royal progress through the Vale.
For the first time that evening, the Sea Snake's hand stilled upon his goblet. Months of careful work, coin, and diplomacy flashed before his eyes — and all of it now risked being undone by two Targaryens and their dragons.
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Over the winter, House Velaryon had quietly sought to secure the Vale's favor.
Corlys's brother, Vaemond Velaryon, had journeyed from castle to castle: rebuilding the crumbling walls of House Redfort, repairing House Grafton's port at Gulltown after raids by the Sistermen, and helping House Waxley sell their famed candles across the Narrow Sea. Even the proud Rhea Royce of Runestone had accepted his lavish gifts — a hunting falcon bred from Lys and a silver warhorse trained in Driftmark's stables.
Corlys's motives were simple: where dragons could not fly, gold could still whisper.
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Traditionally, the Velaryons held strong ties with the Stormlands and the North.
Through Queen Jocelyn Baratheon, Princess Rhaenys Velaryon was niece to the Stormlord, and through the Valyrian Fleet's trade with White Harbor, even the lords of Winterfell counted on Velaryon ships to ferry grain, ale, and dried fish each winter.
It was said that even the Night's Watch depended upon Corlys's banner — the silver seahorse flying above Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, bearing goods from warmer shores.
But the Vale had always been distant — loyal to the Iron Throne, yes, but wary of Dragonstone's ambitions. That changed after tragedy struck House Arryn. The deaths of Lord Ronnel's son, Artes Arryn, and his heirs in the wars against the mountain clans left a child — Lady Jeyne Arryn, only three — upon the Eyrie's throne.
The Vale was ruled in her stead by her regent, Lord Yorbert Royce of Runestone, a hard man of stone and steel.
And Corlys saw opportunity in that uncertainty.
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Now, however, if Baelon and Daemon were to descend upon the Vale on dragonback, the realm would see the might of fire made flesh — and the lords Corlys had courted with coin would be reminded that dragons did not bargain. They commanded.
The Sea Snake's eyes narrowed. "Last we spoke, Your Grace," he said evenly, "it was agreed that Prince Baelon alone would undertake this progress. Why, then, has Daemon been added?"
At the high seat, King Jaehaerys I folded his hands upon the table, his expression calm but weary.
> "Daemon is of age and must learn the realm he will one day help to rule. Viserys has already ridden in my name on progress; now it is Daemon's turn. Besides, I require Viserys here to aid me and the Hand with matters of governance."
The truth was unspoken but known: the King and Baelon understood that Daemon and Viserys could not both go. The contrast between Daemon's crimson dragon Caraxes and Viserys's lack of a mount since Balerion the Black Dread's death would only sharpen whispers — whispers dangerous for the future heir.
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Daemon, unconcerned, speared a slice of crackling from the roasted pig before him and spoke with a wolfish smile.
> "My father's Vhagar is mighty still, though age has slowed her wings. Caraxes and Vhagar together could remind the mountain clans and Sistermen pirates why the Vale bends the knee. Let them look up and remember what true power is."
His words hung in the air, edged like a drawn blade.
Across the table, Princess Rhaenys smiled coolly.
> "Perhaps I should join you. Red Queen Meleys has not stretched her wings in months, and the Vale skies are fair this time of year."
Corlys seized the moment.
> "Indeed, Your Grace," he said to the King. "If this is to be a display of royal strength, three dragons are better than two. My wife knows the sea and the Sistermen better than any man here. Her Red Queen burned pirate ships to ash at the Stepstones — a memory that lingers still."
The hall fell silent. Even Queen Alysanne, pale with fatigue, looked up sharply. Beneath the cordial words, everyone heard the clash of ambition.
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At the lower seats, Viserys, Aemma Arryn, and Queen Jocelyn exchanged uneasy glances. Only Laenor and Laena Velaryon, too young to sense the storm, laughed over lemon cakes, their silver hair gleaming in the torchlight.
Then, quietly but firmly, the Queen spoke.
> "Your Majesty," Alysanne said, her voice soft but carrying, "you forget that victories are not won by dragons alone. Men and ships pay the price. When Queen Visenya took the Vale, she did so only after Daemon Velaryon, Master of Ships, fell at Gulltown against Braavosi war galleys. Blood paved that victory, not fire alone."
Her words cut deep, and Corlys inclined his head — a gesture of respect that was also triumph.
> "The Velaryons have ever shed blood for House Targaryen," Alysanne continued. "If pirates now threaten the Vale's shores, let Rhaenys fly her Red Queen. None knows those waters better."
The King's gaze flickered toward his queen, a mixture of fatigue and frustration in his eyes. Alysanne had been distant of late — her health failing, her patience thinner still. She had lost children and faith in equal measure, and tonight's slight against their daughter Saenella still burned within her.
Now she struck back, not out of spite, but to remind Jaehaerys that her line — her blood — still mattered.
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> "Must we send three dragons?" the King murmured. "Are we to conquer the Vale anew? The lords there are allies, not foes — and the feeding of three dragons would beggar half their keeps."
Alysanne's eyes flashed.
> "When you speak of feeding dragons, my lord, you already know this progress is no mere courtesy call. The moment fire and wings were mentioned, diplomacy turned to dominance. If you wish to ease the burden, then keep Daemon here — with his pregnant wife, and his duties to the Kingsguard. Two dragons, Vhagar and Meleys, will suffice."
Daemon's voice cut across hers like a whip.
> "Gael will not give birth until the year's end, and Viserys can see to the court in my stead. The realm will not crumble without me for a few moons."
Jaehaerys sighed — an old man caught between pride and peace.
> "Then let it be so. Rhaenys shall ride Meleys along the coast to aid the Valyrian Fleet. Baelon and Daemon shall take the King's Road north, visiting the lords of the Crownlands and Riverlands before they join her in the Vale. That way, each of you may serve the realm — in your own way."
His tone brooked no further argument. Yet as the council dispersed and goblets clinked, Daemon and Corlys locked eyes across the hall.
One born of salt, the other of fire — both sons of ambition.
And somewhere beyond the Red Keep's walls, the mountains of the Vale waited, silent and steep, for dragons' wings to darken their skies once more.
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