Divide and Conquer, Chapter 6: Diplomatic Promises

Ninth Moon, 97 AD (5 BC)

The Lion Prince

They saw it long before they reached it. Five black towers stretching high into the sky in the distant horizon beside the waters of a lake so large it looked like the sea. It was another two days’ ride after that before they finally arrived though.

Had he been any other man, his jaw might have dropped in shock at the sheer size of Harrenhal’s walls and towers. They rose as sheer as cliffs and as high as hills and even the gatehouse was larger than some entire castles. But he had been born and raised in Casterly Rock, a fortress more mountain than castle whose enormity dwarfed even that of the Wall and the Hightower. Nonetheless there was a certain feeling of awe knowing that the grand and enormous castle before you was not hewn out of nature but raised purely by the work of man.

A cruel and black-hearted tyrant of a man who had condemned thousands to slave away and die on his folly, but a man all the same, one who had since been killed and replaced. The castle was no longer Harren’s folly, no, now it was Summerhall, Aegon Targaryen’s triumph.

That was why his eldest brother Loren had sent him here after all. So that he could meet and greet with this heathen dragonlord who had come out from the east and laid waste to Harren’s dynasty and done what none had thought possible. Aegon Targaryen had conquered Harrenhal, destroyed House Hoare, and seized the Riverlands from the Ironmen, and he had done it all in less than six months.

Everyone was curious to know what this dragonlord’s intentions were. Would he be a friend or foe? A heathen slaving conqueror or a trustworthy ally? How would he change the board of the endless game of thrones?

Many in the Seven Kingdoms had started sending their emissaries to find out as soon as Targaryen had been crowned and some had even set out before then. The Faith, the Durrandons, the Gardeners, the Arryns, the Martells, and even the Starks in their frozen and remote wasteland had all taken notice. He had been dispatched by his elder brother to ensure House Lannister was not left out.

For a while he had wondered how the great castle of Harrenhal had fallen, even to dragons, for its size was second only to Casterly Rock and stone did not burn. The answer had become clear as he had approached. Stone might not burn but wood did and metal melted. A clever tactic indeed on the part of Aegon Targaryen, though not one that had come free of its own consequences for him.

Six months had passed and still the enormous gates and portcullises had not been rebuilt and now that Targaryen controlled the castle, that was not good. Still though work was underway to restore them and makeshift barricades made from wooden spikes and guarded by a unit of stout and stone-faced soldiers made for a stopgap replacement until that work was complete.

They were halted at that barricade and when they were finally approved for entry, the soldiers moved aside to let their party ride into the courtyard on the other side in a single file, passing through a dozen murder holes on either wall along the way.

The courtyard was surrounded on the left and right by a great wall with battlements and crenellations that was only two-thirds the height of the outer wall, though that still made it easily a hundred feet tall, taller than the walls of almost every other castle in the continent. Those two pairs of walls ran straight from the main gatehouse in the outer wall until they reached the foot of the main tower, creating a rectangular space within that was about a fifth of a mile long with great doors in the sides allowing entrance and exit to the rest of the castle and ensuring that any attackers who somehow made it past the main gatehouse would be funneled into a dedicated kill space where the defenders could shoot arrows and throw rocks and spears at them from all the surrounding walls until they were all dead.

The vast majority of that rectangular space was dominated by the Hall of a Hundred Hearths however which rose easily as high as the outer walls at its tallest and was as wide as it was tall. The great weirwood doors rose dozens of feet high and they were so wide thirty knights could have ridden through them astride with ease. Flanking the doors were two great pillars upon which must have stood two immense statues of Harren the Black or some other Ironman figure before they had been removed and had not yet been replaced.

As they reached the doors of the hall, their way was barred by guards once again and there were stablehands waiting for them when they dismounted their horses. One of them walked up to him.

“Greetings milord. I welcome you to Summerhall,” he said.

“I am no lord boy, I am a prince,” he rebuked the servant who bowed slightly.

“Forgive me Prince…” the stablehand trailed off.

“Tybolt,” he replied. “I am the youngest brother of King Loren of the Rock. I’m sure you know who he is at least hmm?”

“Of course, Prince Tybolt. May I and my fellows take your party’s horses to the stables?” he asked humbly.

“You may. Where are those stables anyway?” Tybolt asked.

“They are over near the Hunter’s Hall and the eastern gates my prince.”

‘So far,’ he thought but with no other choice he consented and gave the reins of his horse to the stablehand before the guards opened the enormous doors and let them into the hall. Too large for a herald alone, one of the men at the doors sounded a horn to announce their presence.

As they walked through the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, Tybolt felt his awe growing. Never before had he ever step foot into a hall that could rival the size of Casterly Rock’s, surpass it even. It had to be at least a thousand feet long. The hundred hearths that gave the hall its name were almost all lit, making it warm and pleasant to be inside the hall and lighting it up brightly in addition to the light entering from the galleries.

For a brief moment he noticed work was being done to seal off the staircases that presumably led up to the galleries above the hall before his attention was taken entirely by the three enormous dragons at the other end of the expanse. Even dwarfed as they were by the sheer enormity of the building they were in, Tybolt knew those dragons had to be the largest creatures he had ever laid eyes on and as he drew nearer at last to the throne where court was in session, they loomed larger and larger.

When they reached the throne at last, a far too simple seat of ebony in his opinion, the herald finally announced their presence.

“Announcing Prince Tybolt Lannister of the Westerlands! Third son of the late King Lancel and brother to King Loren!” he shouted before he bowed to his own king who remained seated on his throne.

Aegon Targaryen was seated in the highest throne on the dais though his queens and others whom Tybolt presumed to be his councilors were seated in simpler chairs in a row below the throne with the queens being above all save their husband and seated at his right and left. The queen seated to Aegon’s left was also cradling her belly which had an ever so slight bump. It seemed that there would soon be yet another Targaryen. He wondered if they would be as beautiful as their parents.

All three of the adult Targaryens were possessed of an otherworldly and almost inhuman beauty Tybolt had never seen before, one that had him questioning how well his own looks measured up in comparison deep down. Their skin was perfectly pale and flawless, their hair silver-gold and their eyes purple. Sharp aristocratic and elegant features with an almost ethereal glow had Tybolt wonder for a second if they were gods instead of a mere man and two women. The three dragons that lurked behind the throne and the council seats only added to the illusion of otherworldly and awesome beauty and power.

For the briefest of moments Tybolt was struck with awe and humility before he remembered himself and what he was here to do. His pride as a Lannister reasserted itself.

“Greetings King Aegon. I bring you well wishes and goodwill from my elder brother, King Loren of the Kingdom of the Rock. He wishes to congratulate you on your victory over the accursed Harren Hoare and extend his formal recognition of your claim to the ancient title of King of the Rivers and Hills. He also desires to extend his hand in friendship in the hopes that our two kingdoms will become fast friends and prosper mutually alongside each other for many more years to come.”

“I thank you and your brother for your kind words Prince Tybolt and I share the same sentiments. Please, allow me to offer you my hospitality,” King Aegon said cheerfully as his servants presented Tybolt and his party with bread and salt which they partook in eagerly.

Guest right was an ancient and sacred custom and while he did not expect the Targaryens to harm envoys, he felt a little more at ease in their presence and that of their dragons now that he had the protection of the sacrosanct laws of hospitality.

Once guest right had been given and received, King Aegon asked him another question. “How long do you intend to stay Prince Tybolt?”

“As long as necessary King Aegon. I am at your service for the duration of my stay here. If there is anything at all that you wish me to convey to my brother, or any treaties or agreements of any sort, trade or otherwise that you would like to negotiate with the Westerlands, please do not hesitate to speak with me. That is why I am here after all.

“And along that line, if I may be so bold, I would like to request a private audience with you at the soonest convenience so that we may converse on all of these matters. There are also some things that my brother has asked me to convey to you which are best suited for a more confidential setting than this,” Tybolt said as he resisted the urge to gesture to their surroundings.

It would be improper but also warranted. Though made to feel small in the enormity of the building around them, the session of court was enormous, with hundreds if not thousands of councilors, courtiers, petitioners, and envoys. Hardly the appropriate setting for high levels of inter-kingdom diplomacy.

Thankfully King Aegon agreed. “Of course, Prince Tybolt. I will be sure to meet with you as soon as possible. In the meantime, I welcome you to Summerhall and encourage you to please, enjoy yourself to your heart’s content. There will be a great feast tonight in your honor and that of our other guests.”

Tybolt bowed his head in acknowledgement. “You are too kind King Aegon.”

“You are welcome to stay and observe the rest of the court proceedings if that is your wish, Prince Tybolt. Either way I will have my servants show you and your party to the quarters that will be yours for the duration of your visit.”

“Thank you, King Aegon. It would be my honor to observe your court,” he said respectfully before he made his way over to stand at the side, sensing the dismissal.

As soon as they had left the center lane before the throne, the herald announced the next envoys, a delegation led by a Septon of the Most Devout from the Starry Sept who had come on behalf of the High Septon. Tybolt could have sworn he saw a flicker of boredom in the faces of the Targaryens as they went through the exact same song and dance of greetings and niceties that they had when they had received him and likely many other envoys in the past few weeks but it was gone in a blink.

That annoyance became even more apparent when the Faith’s envoys made thinly veiled allusions that the religious beliefs and other customs of the Targaryens were perhaps a little too foreign and queer for the faithful flock of the Riverlands after they had spent a hundred years under the yoke of Ironmen heathens. The Targaryens themselves were the picture of politeness as they replied but one of their dragons stirred ever so slightly and growled loudly all of a sudden…almost as if it had been ordered to. The septon quieted down after that and the next envoy was announced as he took his leave.

Tybolt watched the entire scene as closely as he could. A potential feud between the Targaryens and the Faith was one that his house could exploit but he found himself a little perturbed at the level of control the Targaryens had over their beasts. Valyria had brought Essos to its knees with hundreds of them and with just three the Targaryens had taken the Riverlands in six months. There was a power there that they underestimated at their peril, one that had by all accounts burned the gates and battlements of every castle that stood in its way during the Targaryen campaign in the Riverlands.

All of Westeros had known what that had meant when they heard it, dragons were the perfect siege weapons, one that could allow the Targaryens to quickly assault any unprepared castle, though perhaps the speed of their rapid conquest owed more to the Riverlanders who had defected in droves than the power of the dragons themselves. Nonetheless some precautions had already been taken in the Westerlands, with his brother ordering all of their lords to build and stockpile scorpions, longbows, crossbows, and all their bolts and arrows.

Tybolt had little doubt the other kingdoms had done the same. Even if the Targaryens didn’t act against them, those weapons would prove useful in the near ceaseless wars that raged in the kingdoms. There was war even at this very moment in the Dornish Marches, a savage three way-skirmish between the Reach, Stormlands, and Dornish raiders.

After the Stormlanders, Tybolt watched as the Targaryens handled other lesser envoys from various Free Cities as well as minor lords and disputes from both within and without their kingdom. He noticed that King Aegon had a certain friendly charm about him, one that made him seem personable and approachable to all his subjects yet also maintained the aloof and elegant wisdom required of his position as king.

Tybolt also took note of how much Aegon appeared to ask after his wives’ opinions, more so than any of his other councilors, and also of how eager and willing he was to hear and accept their proposals in public, even conceding his own to theirs on occasion. It was not something Tybolt had ever seen before.

Unless they were one of the rare examples of a woman ruling in her own right, queens and ladies never publicly influenced their husbands in such a way. Everyone knew they did of course but the influence of queens and ladies was usually wielded behind the scenes, in the privacy of the married couple’s rooms or at most in the confines of the council rooms, not shown for all to see in open court.

In contrast to this, it almost seemed like Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys were King Aegon’s chief councilors and advisors, even taking the honored positions at his left and right more usually reserved for the King’s most trusted steward or advisor and openly acknowledged as such. It was a curious phenomenon, one that Tybolt did not know enough of as of yet to truly judge for himself.

Perhaps King Aegon was a man ruled by his women though if that was so he wondered how such a weak man had conquered the Riverlands as he had and perhaps more importantly, how on earth he managed two wives at the same time. Just the thought of one and her nagging already made Tybolt shudder. He had seen how Loren had struggled with his new bride and he was even now trying to subject him and Gerold to the same fate.

Maybe King Aegon was showing favoritism to his wives out of love? Perhaps some familial affection also blinded him as they were not just his wives but his sisters also? And yes, that had raised many an eyebrow in the court of the Rock when they had become aware of it. It was not like it was some secret that Aegon Targaryen had wed both of his sisters but until he had conquered the Riverlands none had cared for it, seeing it as only the queer practices of a foreigner.

Now though that queer foreigner with his polygamous and incestuous marriage was the heathen king of the Riverlands. Needless to say, there were many who very much disliked that and even in the Westerlands many septons and pious lords had preached against it and opposed House Lannister recognizing the Targaryens’ rule though Tybolt and his family had seen far more importance in the strategic implications of House Targaryen’s newfound kingdom than the abominable nature of their marriages.

As he watched the two queens and the astute proposals they came up with and the deft way they spoke and greeted the envoys and petitioners however, a novel realization came to Tybolt’s mind. Even in the West they had heard rumors of how both of the female Targaryens had led armies into battle and had won many strategic military and diplomatic victories for their husband’s cause but at the time Tybolt had attributed it solely to their dragons and their position as their husband’s wives and representatives.

However, as he watched them handle the court with as much skill if not more in some ways than their husband did, he realized that while it was clear Aegon Targaryen had the final word in all matters in his realm, his queens ruled as much as he did in practice and they had been set so far above everyone else that only his word mattered more than theirs. And it was hardly unearned.

Women they might be, but Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen carried themselves with the wisdom and demeanor fit for the greatest of kings. If their brother had never been born, they very well could have been some of those rare queens who ruled in their own right. And perhaps that was the Targaryens’ greatest strength, for where many kingdoms and realms in the world struggled to have even one good ruler, the Targaryens had three and three that appeared to work in perfect concert to boot, bound together by their ties of blood and marriage alike.

He’d never admit it out loud but a part of Tybolt was actually jealous of Aegon. As apprehensive as he was to marry himself, he thought he would not mind it nearly as much if it was to a woman like either Visenya or Rhaenys Targaryen. Dragonriders, beautiful and talented beyond compare, there were none like them in the world entire. He doubted any man in Westeros save the most prudish and pious would truly disagree with him deep down, but alas Aegon Targaryen had greedily taken both of his sisters to wife with his heathen polygamous and incestuous ways and left nothing for the rest of them.

Dismissing those thoughts for the time being, Tybolt continued to observe everything he could about the Targaryens and their realm for the rest of the day. He noted to himself the size of Summerhall and the work that seemed to be ongoing to repair and renovate it as well as the way the Targaryens ruled their nascent realm and interacted with their subjects and vassals, piecing together everything he could about them as people as well, their personalities, their likes and dislikes.

All of it was information that could prove useful in some way to his house. It was critical that they got the measure of these heathen dragonlords so they could understand how best to adapt to or even exploit the changes they brought to the great game.

The next morning, he was summoned for his private audience in one of the rooms behind the great hall at the base of the apparently newly rechristened Dragonsreach Tower. With his earlier assessment still in mind, he had half expected to see the Queens present at the meeting as well and so he was a little surprised when he found only King Aegon and his guards present in the room.

“Welcome Prince Tybolt, please take a seat,” King Aegon said. “You don’t have to worry about the guards. They are sworn to keep my secrets and are fiercely loyal to my house besides.”

Tybolt simply nodded, it was not like he could tell the ruler of the castle he was a guest in to remove his guards now, could he? He could not help but let his gaze linger on the empty table briefly however and the Targaryen noticed it.

“Why the surprise? You asked for a private audience did you not?”

Tybolt shook himself to attention. “I did and I am grateful that you have granted it King Aegon. I just confess my surprise that not even one of your queens or councilors is here as well after how much importance they had in court yesterday,” he replied before wincing at his words. If King Aegon was a prickly man, such words could easily be misconstrued as a slight against his capability as a king.

“Wise kings listen to their councilors but only cripples need counsel for every single step they make. My queens and councilors have other tasks that they are fulfilling on my behalf today so it will be just you and me Prince Tybolt.”

“I apologize if I have given any offense King Aegon,” he said hurriedly.

“Rest assured, you have not,” the man replied and the cheerful smile on his face put Tybolt’s fears to rest and he nodded.

Any of the usual small talk asking after each other’s families and health and so forth had already happened at the feast the previous night and so they went straight to business. First, they formally acknowledged and confirmed their mutual recognition of the titles and domains of each of their respective houses with Tybolt serving as his brother’s envoy in that matter before they turned to the matter of trade which had been greatly limited when the Ironmen had ruled the Riverlands. They were able to form many tentative trade agreements though King Aegon would have to check with his treasurer and the other experts on his council on some of the terms and Tybolt had to get his brother’s approval before the agreements could be finalized.

They also discussed some other similar matters of state and possible agreements between their kingdoms before the discussion turned to their respective relations to the other kingdoms in Westeros and all frankness ceased and was replaced only by indirect allusions and doublespeak.

Every single kingdom had sent envoys primarily for this purpose. What they wanted to know first and foremost was what role the Targaryens would play in the continent’s balance of power, whose side did they wish to join, and did they have any aspirations beyond the Riverlands?

What clues Tybolt was able to glean indicated to him that the primary external issues the Targaryens foresaw for their new kingdom in the Riverlands were the claims the Stormlands had on their territory and the protests the Faith and the Reach it was based in had for their queer marriage customs and their seeming unwillingness to lift the Hoare-era restrictions on the Faith in the Riverlands.

None of those were things that primarily concerned House Lannister and would arguably even benefit them if they escalated further and distracted all of the three kingdoms in question. No his brother Loren had set their eyes on another prize. One that could easily be up for the taking as long as they ensured there would be no opposition to it.

Cautiously, Tybolt asked. “Do you have any intentions on taking the rest of Harren’s domain?” he asked the Targaryen king.

Aegon Targaryen raised his eyebrow slightly. “I have all the parts of his kingdom that matters to me. I assume you are referring to the Iron Islands, yes?”

“The civil war is still ongoing there as the savages fight among themselves. As you have taken Harren’s throne, his castle, and his kingdom here in the Riverlands, many would argue that the Iron Islands are yours by right of conquest as well. You simply have to take it. If you choose to do so, you will have the full support of the Westerlands in doing so. It is in the interests of all in Westeros. There hasn’t been an opportunity this good to put an end to their raiding ways in hundreds of years.”

Tybolt had covered his tracks well he thought, framing his query as a suggestion to Aegon to take what many would see as rightfully his after his defeat of Harren and a plea to end the Ironmen’s ravages.

Aegon Targaryen however appeared to see through his ruse. “Not since the reign of Hagon the Heartless I would imagine,” he replied with a knowing look on his face.

“Indeed. It’s an opportunity that many would say cannot be passed up on. Do you intend to pursue it?” Tybolt asked carefully.

They both knew how Hagon the Heartless’ reign had ended, with an army of Westerlanders who had come to punish him for his mutilation of his own mother, the aunt of the King of the Rock. It was the last chance that anyone in Westeros could have had to conquer the Iron Isles and finally civilize them and put an end to their savage ways and it could have succeeded and brought them under the banner of House Lannister once and for all if Aubrey Crakehall had not been possessed of some mad ambition and tried to crown himself King of the Iron Islands instead.

His elder brother Loren intended to correct that failure and finally bring the Iron Islands into the fold of the West and civilize them now that they were weak and divided after the fall of House Hoare. However, he was wary and respectful enough of the Targaryens to only act if they did not claim the islands themselves. It would not benefit House Lannister in any way to antagonize the new dragonlord King of the Rivers and Hills and they were wary enough of what his dragons could do to their fleets and castles if they were seen interfering with what many would see as his rightful territory.

This was perhaps the single most important reason for Tybolt’s visit to Summerhall. They needed to know what Aegon Targaryen intended for the Iron Islands to decide whether to act or not. He waited with bated breath to hear what Aegon’s answer would be.

“As you know Prince Tybolt, my title is King of the Rivers and Hills, not Isles and Rivers. You are right that many would say the Iron Islands are mine if I can take them and arguably speaking perhaps I should in order to spare Westeros their predations any longer but unfortunately, I simply am not in the position to do it. My realm in the Riverlands is like a newborn babe and it will die without my careful supervision.

“There are other matters on other borders as well as the rebuilding of the Riverlands from the Ironmen’s yoke that occupy my concerns first and foremost. And even if I wished to conquer the Iron Islands, I simply lack the fleet on my western coast needed to invade and control them. And so alas I am not in the position to exploit their infighting and put an end to their menace once and for all.”

Tybolt nodded, his hopes beginning to rise. He had to resist smiling in triumph when King Aegon continued carefully.

“However… if another kingdom that was in the position to exploit that weakness did so, one that has declared its intentions to be a friend of my own kingdom, well I can’t say that I would have any protests. Anyone who puts down reavers, rapists, and slavers is a friend in my eyes,” King Aegon said meaningfully.

“We shall simply have to wait and see how the situation proceeds I suppose,” Tybolt said neutrally.

“Indeed. We shall.”

_______________________________________

Aegon

It was almost too easy. The greed of the Lannisters was as obvious as day and all Aegon had to do was imply his support for their plans and they would pounce like lions upon their prey. Little did the lions know however that they were not the top of the food chain anymore.

He wasn’t even lying either. He had no interest in conquering the Iron Islands nor the fleet and means to do so right now. And neither would he protest if the Westerlands or any other kingdom took advantage of their infighting and invaded in the near future to put down the reavers, rapists, and slavers. He just never promised that he’d let them keep the islands, or that he wouldn’t just conquer them as well.

So he’d let the Lannisters go on merrily and invade and conquer the Iron Islands just as they did in the reign of Hagon the Heartless. They’d do all the dirty work for him exterminating the Drowned Men, the reavers, the rapists, and the slavers until the survivors in the Iron Islands would welcome him as a liberator when he finally made his move, while the Westerlands would be weakened by years of savage war and with much of their fleet and army away from home. Two birds with one stone.

Of course, the Lannisters were not the only envoys that he had had to treat with since his coronation. Just like he had on Dragonstone, he’d had to deal with lickspittles from the Free Cities, various merchants, magisters, and so forth that he had sent packing back home with his demands for favorable trade agreements and more tribute lest he intervene against their cities in the ongoing war. Furthermore, now that he was not just the Lord of Dragonstone but King of the Rivers and Hills as well, he’d had to deal with envoys that were somehow even more annoying than Essosi lickspittles.

The Arryns had sent envoys to congratulate him on his new title and sort out some trade agreements and disputes that Harren had had with them in regard to Wickenden and the Mountains of the Moon. Sharra Arryn, the new Queen Regent of the Vale with her husband’s unfortunate death from an illness earlier this year had even offered the hand of her son King Ronnel for Aegon’s daughter Valaena, an offer that he had politely rejected.

Sharra was not the only one trying to get a marriage alliance, however. The Gardeners had done the same, with King Mern’s envoys also trying for the hand of his daughter to Mern’s grandson by his eldest son. The Reach had also attempted to set the border between their realms at the Blackwater Rush and regain some lands they had lost to the Hoares but Aegon had seen through their ruse and had refused to give up any hinterlands he held south of the river, particularly in the Stoney Sept Ward.

Argilac Durrandon had attempted to do the reverse of the Gardeners and Arryns, offering the hand of his thirteen-year-old daughter and only heir Argella for either Aerion or Aegor. Argilac had also offered to graciously recognize their claim over all the territories in the Riverlands north of the Blackwater Rush as a gift to his daughter’s future goodfamily should the offer be accepted.

Like with the Arryns and Gardeners, he had rejected the offer as politely as he could though judging by the envoys’ reactions, he doubted that Argilac the ‘Arrogant’ would take their rejection well once they reported back to him. It was no matter to him though. He did not need the arrogant Stormking’s recognition of his borders to be secure.

It was almost laughable that House Durrandon thought they had any leverage over him when they hadn’t held any sway over any inch of land north of the Blackwater in generations. They might not hold any sway over some of the lands still part of their kingdom honestly, Houses Massey, Bar Emmon, and Sunglass were as close to his own house as they had been in the other world and he anticipated that they and others like Wendwater would easily defect to him when he finally conquered the Stormlands.

Nonetheless the repetitive marriage offers had been tiresome. He did not doubt that if Loren Lannister had any children he would have tried to have his brother Tybolt do the same. The Starks and Martells’ envoys hadn’t yet arrived though their sources had informed them that they were on the way. If they had the audacity to propose something similar to all the other royal houses, especially the smug and wretched Martells, he might just lose his temper and burn their castles for it.

Assuming Visenya and Rhaenys didn’t beat him to it. Visenya had not hidden her glares whenever any pompous envoy had dared propose they sully their children’s bloodline by marrying them to the lesser sons and daughters of lesser kings and queens. Rhaenys, normally the more diplomatic and polite of the two had even curtly and smugly told one envoy that their children would be marrying each other as their parents had, much to his shock and horror. It had been amusing to see his reaction and doubly so to see him struggle to hide it lest he give offense.

The ceaseless betrothal proposals had irked his wives so much that both of them had asked him to formally announce the betrothal between Aerion and Valaena soon despite their very young ages and he had seen no reason not to acquiesce to their wishes. He would need to consider when would be the best time to do that though given how it could prematurely sour relations with the other kingdoms and the Faith before they were ready to continue the Conquest.

And speaking of the Faith, perhaps the single most annoying envoy was the one he had to meet with now that Lannister’s audience was over. More infuriating than Essosi lickspittles, more arrogant than the foolish envoys of stupid kings who lusted for his children’s hands in marriage, was none other than the insufferable, judgmental, and zealous Septon Luceon of the Most Devout. As he walked into the audience room and took the seat at the table Lannister had sat in beside him, Aegon had to resist pinching his forehead in frustration.

The structure of the Faith of the Seven seemed to be similar in many ways to the Catholic Church in his other life though with some key differences. The clergy was primarily made up of three levels, with Septons of the Third Canon being equivalent to priests, Septons of the Second Canon being a rough analogy of bishops, and Septons of the First Canon being the Most Devout, effectively the Faith of the Seven’s College of Cardinals.

Despite their differing rank and status however, all three of these canons were simply addressed and styled as Septon, because of course they were. Why would there ever be a nice neatly defined title for each rank. That each Septon gave up their family name made it even harder to tell who was who at times, but that at least was still salvageable compared to the High Septons who headed the Faith and gave up even their first names, making it nigh impossible to keep track of the various holders of the office throughout history.

It was because of that dumb tradition that Aegon wasn’t even sure if the High Septon in the Starry Sept right now was the same that had advised the Hightowers to bend to his other self. He’d just have to assume the Faith was hostile, especially with what he had in mind for it.

Apart from the septons of the three canons, their septs, and the High Septon, there were also septries where orders of religious brothers would stay and pray and often study and experiment more than anyone else save the Maesters.

Women were also not excluded from the Faith’s ranks. Septas who were a sort of mix of nuns and female priests served in both septs and abbeys called motherhouses alongside novices training to join their ranks and silent sisters who prepared the bodies of the dead. There were other religious orders for women but the septas and silent sisters were the most well-known. The septas had three canons just like the septons did and some few septas were in the Second Canon or even the First, serving on the Most Devout, though there had never been a High Septa by tradition since the Father, not the Mother, was seen as the chief among the Seven aspects of God.

There were also the Swords and Stars. The Swords, officially known as the Warrior’s Sons were an order of knights who had given up their lands and possessions to serve the Seven and their representatives on earth directly while the Stars, the Poor Fellows, were their counterparts among the commoners and women and escorted pilgrims between septs and septries. Both orders together formed the Faith Militant, a military force fanatically loyal to the High Septon and the Faith of the Seven’s tenets.

All of this was important to note because of how it pertained to what Septon Luceon no doubt wanted from him. The Hoares had clashed greatly with the Faith of the Seven in the early days of their rule over the Riverlands and it had eventually led to the Faith Militant being banned from the Riverlands by the Hoares. The chapterhouse of the Warrior’s Sons in Stoney Sept had been burned to the ground, the Poor Fellows slaughtered and the septries and the septs they protected all sacked.

Under the rule of the Hoares, much of the lands and wealth of the Faith within the Riverlands had been seized, further empowering House Hoare against the local Riverlords. All septries had been closed and seized for the crown, with their brothers either killed or banished. Almost all motherhouses had faced a similar fate, with only the silent sisters allowed to remain for their role in preparing the bodies of the dead though even then their numbers had been greatly reduced and some said that this was why many in the Riverlands had come to adopt the Ironmen’s funeral customs.

Septs had been allowed to remain open but all were heavily restricted in the amounts of land they could hold and the tithes they were allowed to keep. Septas of the Third and Second Cantons who served in dioceses, septs, or in the households of nobles had been permitted by the laws of the Hoares but the abolition of almost all the motherhouses and the dangers they faced serving in Ironmen-infested lands greatly thinned their numbers.

Meanwhile Septons of the Third Canon had been allowed to remain and tend to the needs of their flocks but they had also been subject to persecution and discrimination and so many septs had inevitably closed. Finally, Septons and Septas of the First Canon and any direct envoys of the Most Devout and Starry Sept had been barred from entering the Riverlands and there had been many feuds between the Hoares and the High Septons over the investiture of Septons of the Second Canon in their dioceses in the Riverlands, a feud which ultimately ended inconclusively but leaning to the Hoares’ favor.

One would have expected the Faith of the Seven to call a Holy War over these transgressions by the Hoares but for whatever reason that had never happened, perhaps because the other kings of Westeros had preferred to feud with each other rather than liberate the Riverlands or perhaps the Faith had simply not cared enough to fight for the Rivermen.

Regardless of the cause, the end result should have been expected. With the Faith so heavily restricted, religious brothers outlawed, septas almost impossible to find, silent sisters and septons so few in number, representatives of the Starry Sept not seen in decades, and a general feeling of abandonment by the Faith and their fellow Faithful, the Rivermen had grown resentful and lost their religion.

A hundred years of Ironmen rule separated from the rest of the Faithful had seen to almost all of the Riverlords and a plurality if not a majority of the people no longer actually believing in the Seven or at the very least no longer believing in the doctrines of the clergy that had abandoned them even if they did still hold to their gods out of tradition and spite for the Ironmen.

With the High Septon and the clergy and doctrines of the Faith of the Seven no longer seen as credible, there was a hole in the hearts of the people. Bereft of any ultimate purpose and spiritual fulfillment in their lives, the Riverlanders were desperately looking for something to believe in again, begging for something or someone to follow. Who better than the house that had saved them from the hated Hoares and their Ironmen ilk?

Already the extent of the brewing loyalty directed toward his house was fanatical, almost religious in nature as the Riverlanders and their lords all but worshipped Aegon and his family instead of the Seven and obeyed their words as if it had come from their gods and not their royals. There was almost nothing that they could do to turn the Riverlands against them at this point and destroy this loyalty, not even the reforms Aegon had in mind for the region over the coming years.

It just made him lament just how foolish his canon self was all over again. That idiot had given the Riverlands to Tully of all people, converted to the Faith, and then reversed all of the Hoares’ laws and allowed the Faith back into the Riverlands in full in some misguided attempt to appease them. Without direct rule of the Riverlands and with the Faith of the Seven’s clergy, religious, and militant allowed to roam in the kingdom unrestricted again, it was only a matter of time before they had all returned fully to the fold of the Faith under the Starry Sept.

Arguably by converting to the Faith, being anointed by the High Septon, and in general appeasing the Faith so much, his counterpart had even directed any of the gratitude and loyalty the Riverlands had had for him saving them toward the Faith of the Seven for ‘sending’ him to free them. And so, when House Targaryen and the Faith of the Seven had gone to war forty years after his other self had freed the Riverlands, they had risen not for House Targaryen but for the Faith Militant that sought to destroy them.

Aegon refused to let it happen again here. The Riverlands would be the heartlands of his empire, the truest and most loyal to his house and the closest to them in culture and traditions, even more so than the canon Crownlands had been. It was the Riverlands that would be closest to the vision he aspired for the continent and they would be the template that he would copy and aim to recreate in the rest of his conquests.

He imagined a rich and prosperous Riverlands as the centerpiece of a grand empire. Fiercely loyal to his house regardless of their race or religion for they shared one creed, allegiance to House Targaryen. Great and prosperous cities would dot the region and feed the recruits and taxes needed for the almighty Imperial Government and its bureaucracies and armies. Meanwhile, the blood and culture of the local Rivermen would mingle and meld with the hundreds of thousands of immigrants and refugees of Essosi Valyrian descent and culture that Aegon was bringing over from the Free Cities, creating a new Westerosi Valyrian culture, an Imperial identity that would be spread outward from the Riverlands into the whole Empire.

But that dream would never come to fruition if Septon Luceon had his way. Aegon sighed inwardly as the insufferable zealot began speaking.

“Your Grace,” he said respectfully, addressing him by his honorific in a way none of the other envoys had been for they had been envoys from other kings, his nominal equals.

Aegon raised his eyebrows. It seemed that Luceon was trying to ingratiate himself now, quite a change from the firebrand who had struggled to withhold his derision of his marriages in court.

“His Holiness the High Septon, myself, and the rest of my esteemed colleagues in the Most Devout would like to again extend our congratulations for your defeat and overthrow of the accursed tyrant Harren the Black. His atrocities were well-known across Westeros and there are none who shall miss him or his ilk.”

‘And yet you and yours did nothing for the Riverlands for almost a century,’ Aegon thought to himself, unimpressed by Septon Luceon’s words. They were like the wind that whistled past Dragonsreach. Never lasting and never sincere.

“We would like to request that you repeal Harren and his father and grandfather’s laws restricting our activities in the Riverlands and return the lands they confiscated to us so that we might restore the orders that had been there. The flocks of faithful here have been severely undereducated about their religion and their spiritual development tragically stifled for generations. We hope to correct that.

“Our Faith Militant will help bring order to this land and quell the lingering chaos from the Ironmen’s predations and with their protection our clergy and religious can return in full to serve their flocks once again. Septs, septries, and motherhouses can reopen. The people will be able to worship their god and pursue lives of contemplation and prayer again, they will be able to rest with the proper rites again, many poor and hungry will be fed again. The Riverlands will prosper and thrive beneath the Light of the Seven again.

“You are the rightful King of the Rivers and Hills of course and we acknowledge your authority over your kingdom. We simply humbly beseech you to grant us your leave to enact all of this and then we can bring peace and prosperity back to the Riverlands together.”

“Not granted,” Aegon said curtly.

Septon Luceon nodded. “Wonderful Your Grace, you will not regret your decision I – wait, what did you say?”

“I said not granted Septon. I do not give my leave for any of this to happen and as you say I am the rightful King of the Rivers and Hills and so my word is law here. Not the High Septon’s, not the Most Devout’s, and certainly not yours.”

There was confusion in Septon Luceon’s face and a growing anger that he struggled to restrain. Trying to find the right words, he finally choked out, “May I ask why your decision is as such?”

“Because how would it benefit me and my people Septon? I am not an adherent of the Faith of the Seven and the Riverlanders have seen neither hide nor hair of help from the Faith nor any of the other kingdoms who follow it for generations now. I do not need your soldiers to patrol my realm and bring order and I do not need your brothers and sisters to give the poor charity. My servants and vassals can do all of that just as easily.

“You have no purpose in this kingdom anymore and I do not find myself predisposed to let you bring your soldiers and your religious and clergy back here so you can tell people that you never helped what they can and cannot do. Many in the Riverlands have turned to other beliefs in the Faith of the Seven’s long absence and they will all remain free to choose their own beliefs and worship whatever gods they please so long as they abide by my laws.”

“Does that include your so-called Exceptionalism?” Septon Luceon said with a snarl that made it clear he was barely restraining himself from ranting about the heresies of that doctrine.

It was quite similar to the Doctrine of Exceptionalism that had been created in that other world only here it was not just a religious doctrine but a legal and sociocultural one as well. It enshrined House Targaryen as the impartial defenders and arbitrators of all religions that did no harm to others and recognized the special and elevated position of the Targaryens above all others.

Per Exceptionalism, Aegon and his family were recognized by all religions as special and exempt from the restrictions of other religions that might forbid incest, polygamy, or sorcery because they hailed from Valyria where different gods and laws had held sway and most importantly of all, the fact they rode dragons and commanded their awesome power was proof that no matter which god or gods were real and true, they had chosen the Targaryens to be the dragonlord protectors and rulers of their followers. All religions would be welcome within the Targaryen domain so long as they acknowledged this doctrine and the supremacy of the Targaryens above their laws and gods; those that could not accept those requirements would be barred from their kingdom and persecuted.

Aegon already had his Exceptionalists preaching in every city, castle, town, village, and sept in the Riverlands and building belief and recruiting converts to the doctrine. With how weak the Faith of the Seven was in the Riverlands, it probably wasn’t necessary but it was a good way to reconcile the Faith’s doctrines with his family’s marriage customs and ensure that the Riverlanders’ apathy to the incestuous and polygamous nature of their marriages was institutionalized in a formal doctrine in both religious and secular law. When the time came to conquer the other kingdoms, a well-established Doctrine of Exceptionalism would be key in smoothening the transition of power and winning the hearts of the people.

Aegon stared down the still fuming Septon Luceon until he relented and calmed his expression to a more diplomatic one. Only then did he speak.

“Exceptionalism is no religion Septon Luceon. It is simply the means by which I help reconcile my people’s religious beliefs and traditions with my own Septon Luceon. And you will note that as the name suggests, it grants exemptions only for my family and does not seek to change the doctrines of your faith only to help them coexist with my own. Of course, it is important in building the free and tolerant kingdom I envision.”

“And yet through Exceptionalism you lure the people into not just heresy but apostasy as well! Word has already reached the Starry Sept of thousands starting to worship the gods of Old Valyria instead of the gods of their forefathers or turning to Exceptionalism instead of the proper strictures of their faith! How long before the uneducated commoners begin sinking into sin? Laying with their sisters and siring inbred abominations or straying from their wives and causing them hurt because they are allowed to marry as many women as they please? History has proven to us why this would be disastrous for any society!” Septon Luceon said wildly.

Aegon’s anger grew. “Septon Luceon, even in Old Valyria incest was rarely if ever practiced outside of the Forty Families and polygamy was uncommon. Valyria did not fall because a select few practiced incest and polygamy but that is beside the point. You can rest assured that I do not intend to encourage nor permit either of those practices within my kingdom. They will remain reserved solely for myself and my family as has been our ways since time immemorial.”

“But Valyria fell to the Doom in the end did it not? Who is to say the Seven did not strike it down for its degeneracies and cruelties? For the slavery, incest, and polygamy its masters practiced so eagerly? Who is to say it cannot happen again?” Septon Luceon said boldly. Too boldly.

Aegon narrowed his eyes. “I find myself growing troubled by the implications in your words Septon Luceon. Are you perhaps daring to suggest that there is something wrong with my family and I? That we are wrong for worshipping the gods that we do and marrying the people that we love? That something may happen to us if we do not change our ways? Speak quickly or you will not like the consequences,” he warned.

Septon Luceon chose his words carefully. “King Aegon, Your Grace. You are a man beyond compare but few can love two women equally and treat them as fairly as you do. Perhaps there is something special about your union that has allowed for you and your wives and all your children to remain healthy and happy thus far but there is little guarantee that such will be the case forever.

“Is it not less risky to put aside these practices and let them come to a peaceful and honorable end with you? The majority religion in the Seven Kingdoms is the Faith of the Seven and even now in the Riverlands it is still the majority religion. The Seven welcome all who wish to repent and believe. The High Septon can give a dispensation for you and your sisters’ marriages to remain valid but those practices should end with you.

“Join with the Faith and we can help you stabilize your rule in the Riverlands and in the eyes of the other kingdoms, ensuring that you, your wives, and all of your descendants will be recognized as true sons and daughters of the Faith instead of degenerates and abominations. Your family would no longer be seen as outsiders on this continent but instead as one of our own and we protect our own King Aegon,” Septon Luceon concluded passionately but Aegon’s rage had boiled almost beyond control.

The septon’s words were pretty but they did not hide the filth. He had called him and his sister-wives degenerates and named their children abominations, condemning their marriage, their family, and their happiness and implying that it was a sin they had to feel guilty for and have forgiven with a dispensation.

By what right did this lesser man dare to judge the blood of the dragon? Did this arrogant fool really think that Aegon would throw away all the culture and traditions that made his family special so that they could become little more than Andals and die a slow and pathetic death like they had in that other world? Did he truly believe that his allusions to divine retribution for his supposed sins from the Seven would cow him? If so, then he was even stupider than Aegon thought he was.

When he finally spoke again, his words were perfectly polite but the tone in which they were delivered made his will deafeningly clear. “I thank you for your kind offer Septon Luceon… but I am afraid that I must refuse. I am also sorry to inform you that you will have to depart from Summerhall by sunset.”

“I…I beg your pardon!?” the septon sputtered.

“As you well know, the laws of the Riverlands forbid the entry of any member of the Most Devout or any envoy or direct representative of the High Septon under pain of death. Seeing as you are all of those and the laws still stand, it is doubly important that you vacate our borders with all haste so that we are not forced to bring down the full consequences of the law upon you. Rest assured though that if you or any of your superiors and colleagues within the Faith have a pressing need to speak with me in person again, I am sure that a dispensation can be granted.”

The septon glared at him. He simply smiled cheerfully in response.

“You will regret this,” he told him, a poisonous promise in his eyes.

“Maybe. But not as much as you.” Aegon made his own promise.