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The Old King Jaehaerys lightly tapped his scepter. The crisp sound of the ruby tip striking the marble floor instantly silenced the low murmurs in the council chamber.
Morning light streamed through the tall windows, falling precisely on the golden dragon embroidery of his black robe, adding an extra layer of weight to his already imposing presence.
"Today I have summoned you all," the Old King's voice was not loud, but every word was clear, "to discuss three key matters first: the post-war arrangements with the Triarchy, the future governance of the Stepstones, and responding to the warnings from the North and the Night's Watch regarding the lands beyond the Wall. Speak freely if you have anything to say."
As soon as he finished, Tymond Lannister rose first.
The hem of his golden lion robe swept the floor as he clutched documents from the Westerlands merchant guild, his tone carrying the directness of a Westerner when it came to profit: "Your Grace, the Triarchy's annual one-tenth trade tax needs a clear payment method. Even before Aegon conquered Westeros, trade in minerals between the Westerlands and Tyrosh has always been the closest between the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea. If they wish to pay in gold and silver goods, Your Grace can designate Lannisport as the delivery point to avoid excessive losses in the middle stages."
Corlys Velaryon set down his spyglass, his silver-white seahorse cloak swaying gently. He rarely praised another's idea: "Lord Tymond speaks reasonably. However, the Stepstones will need a dedicated tax office in the future, which can be jointly managed by one representative each from Velaryon and Lannister. After all, the Stepstones have only just been reclaimed and stabilized. Tax revenue must first be used for supplying the united fleet. We cannot let the stationed soldiers patrol on empty stomachs."
Tymond raised an eyebrow, about to retort that the West was not short on supplies, but seeing Baelon cast a glance from the high seat on behalf of the Old King—a look carrying the hint of "consider the greater good"—he changed his words: "That is acceptable, but the tax officials must be approved by the Small Council and cannot be decided solely by House Velaryon."
Daemon sat at the end of the table, his fingertips lightly tapping the scabbard of Blackfyre.
Once the two reached a preliminary agreement, he spoke slowly: "There is one more matter. Before the peace negotiations, Uncle Baelon, Lord Corlys, and I reached a consensus: Lyseni, Myrish, and Tyroshi merchant ships holding safe-conduct papers will be exempt from taxes, but ship crews must be registered to prevent pirates from disguising themselves. I have had Larys compile a list of common fake names used by pirates in past years, based on Lord Corlys's information and intelligence from Racallio Ryndoon. The raven messengers can distribute it to the various ports shortly."
Larys immediately stepped forward and handed a scroll to Grand Maester Arryn for inspection before presenting it to the king.
Though Larys's limping gait was slow, he did not miss Otto Hightower's sweeping gaze. He merely lowered his head slightly, hiding the cunning glint in his eyes.
Jaehaerys nodded after reading it and tapped his scepter once more: "For the Stepstones matter, Corlys, you have the most extensive seafaring experience and are currently serving as provisional governor. Tell us your thoughts on the future governance framework."
Corlys rose, unrolling a nautical chart and pointing to Bloodstone: "I plan to establish the governor's seat on Bloodstone, the core of the Stepstones, and station ten royal fleet galleys there permanently. Smaller islands will have patrol teams based on population, manned by local natives who have submitted and fishermen from the Stormlands and crownland coasts—they know the waters better than outsiders and can better guard against pirates. Additionally, we need three maesters from the Citadel to teach the islanders how to grow salt-tolerant crops, so they no longer have to rely on plunder."
"I will coordinate with the Citadel," Vaegon suddenly spoke, his grey maester's robe sleeves brushing past a star chart. "The northern lights have been abnormal lately. Citadel astronomers predict extreme cold waves in the coming years. If the Stepstones can achieve grain self-sufficiency, it should reduce the supply burden on the Seven Kingdoms."
Otto Hightower finally found his opportunity and adjusted the brooch on his chest: "Your Grace, officials for the provisional governor's office in the Stepstones should also be selected from lords across the Seven Kingdoms. It certainly cannot be entirely appointed by House Velaryon and Lord Corlys alone. After all, the united fleet was jointly formed by the Seven Kingdoms. Governance rights should be shared to demonstrate the Iron Throne's fairness."
The words sounded just, but they implicitly suggested Corlys might monopolize power.
Corlys was about to retort when the usually silent Viserys spoke first, revealing a sharp edge: "Lord Otto is correct, but appointments should follow the proportions already discussed in previous Small Council meetings—based on each region's contribution of large warships for patrols after the war. House Velaryon provided ten silver ships, the crownlands ten, the West six, the Stormlands eight, the North five, and the Reach, Riverlands, and Vale seven each. This is both fair and will reassure the lords to relinquish governance rights."
The proposal hit the right note with everyone—Tymond was satisfied the West would have a share, Borros slammed the table shouting "Exactly how it should be," and even Lyonel Strong nodded slightly, feeling it balanced royal and lordly interests.
Jaehaerys glanced at Baelon, seeing his son's approving look toward his rarely assertive eldest grandson, and nodded: "Approved. Corlys, you take the lead in drafting the list of officials. We will discuss it again in three days."
Next came the matter of Night's Watch supplies. At the king's signal, Grand Maester Arryn unrolled Karlon Karstark's letter, his voice carrying some gravity: "The Night's Watch reports that the number of free folk migrating south is thirty percent higher than usual. Arrows and grain on the Wall will only last until winter. They hope the Seven Kingdoms can contribute supplies, especially northern furs, Westerlands iron goods, and Reach grain."
Viserys spoke first, his tone gentle but firm: "King's Landing can provide three thousand stones of wheat. The royal stores still have two hundred hides seized from the Triarchy recently, and surplus game from organized hunts in the Kingswood can also be sent."
Borros immediately chimed in: "The Stormlands will provide five hundred battle-axes! Freshly forged in Storm's End smithies—enough for the Watch to chop wildlings!" He spoke with great enthusiasm, even standing to slap the table. This caused Grey Ghost at Daemon's feet to lift his head warily and let out a low "churr" at him, making everyone in the hall unable to suppress a smile.
But he was quickly silenced by the four other Stormlanders behind him covering his mouth. Jasper Wylde and Michael Mertyns then voiced the conditions Lord Boremund had instructed: "Borros is rash. Lord Boremund has said that while the Stormlands have surplus from this year's hunts and grain from places like Harvest Hall, the Stormlands have had constant friction with Dorne along the Marches this year, so our hands are tied despite our willingness—"
Daemon watched Grey Ghost curl back up before speaking slowly: "I will have the Darkblade guards allocate five thousand gold dragons from Narrow Sea trade, converted into salt, iron ingots, and other supplies, to be delivered to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea via Velaryon or White Harbor Manderly ships. Commander Karstark also mentioned in a private letter to me that the docks at Eastwatch need reinforcement. This money can help with repairs as well."
Vaegon added timely: "Before Bernard and I leave King's Landing, I will send word to the Citadel to have another maester skilled in astronomy, along with two stargazers, stationed at the Wall to observe changes in the northern lights. If anything unusual occurs, they can send advance warnings."
Jaehaerys nodded in satisfaction and was about to finalize it when Otto interjected again: "Your Grace, someone needs to coordinate the material transport. I believe Master of Ships Lord Lyonel is most suitable—he is familiar with fleet scheduling and deeply trusted by the lords for his fairness. He will surely ensure timely delivery."
The words seemed like a recommendation, but they were actually trying to distract Lyonel with logistics, indirectly weakening the Master of Ships' voice in the united fleet. However, it was better than nothing. Everyone with eyes could see that Lyonel's position was temporary; the "Sea Snake" would eventually reclaim it. Giving him an idle task to weaken him was actually a way to balance interests among Viserys's friends.
Lyonel was about to say "I am willing" when Baelon spoke first: "Ser Lyonel must temporarily remain in King's Landing to oversee daily training of the united fleet. Material transport can be handed to Vaemond Velaryon—he has sailed with Corlys for seven years and knows the Narrow Sea routes better than anyone. Let Lancel Lannister assist as well; he can inventory the Westerlands iron goods, which will reassure Lord Tymond."
Tymond immediately agreed: "Lancel is perfect for it. The boy has developed quite the head for numbers lately, saving me from sending someone else."
Seeing his Western allies approve, Otto said no more, though his fingertips quietly tightened around the edge of his scroll.
The final and most thorny issue—the command authority of the united fleet—was finally brought to the table.
"The united fleet currently has one hundred twenty warships, with the royal fleet accounting for forty. The rest come from the lords of the Seven Kingdoms," Grand Maester Arryn unrolled the fleet roster at the king's signal. "Now that the war is over, we must clarify who holds scheduling authority in peacetime and who serves as supreme commander in wartime."
Otto rose almost immediately: "I believe it should fall under the Master of Ships—Lord Lyonel is impartial and familiar with the customs of the Seven Kingdoms' lords. Scheduling under him can prevent lordly suspicions. Moreover, the royal fleet and united fleet require unified command to better handle sudden Narrow Sea situations."
The chamber fell silent at once. Everyone understood that while Lyonel was close to Viserys, he was not Targaryen blood. If the fleet went to him, Otto could use the "recommendation favor" to build influence and indirectly weaken Daemon, Daemon Targaryen, Corlys, and others in the united fleet.
Corlys set down his spyglass, his tone carrying a seafarer's pragmatism: "Lord Otto's words are improper. The royal fleet is the foundation of the royal house and must remain under the direct control of the heir. The united fleet was funded and built by the Seven Kingdoms and should have a lords' council. Scheduling would be jointly discussed monthly by representatives of each lord and the Master of Ships. In wartime, the king would appoint the supreme commander. This preserves royal authority while honoring the lords' contributions."
"I agree with Lord Corlys!" Borros jumped up suddenly, his broadsword scabbard clanging against the table leg. "The Stormlands provided six ships—why hand them all to one person? Our people must be on the council!"
Daemon Targaryen also became unusually serious, his hand stopping its play with the dragon-scale badge: "During last year's Tyrosh sea battle, if not for Little Daemon breaking the chain boom with The Cannibal, the united fleet might not have won. The wartime commander must understand dragon warfare. We cannot let someone who has never seen dragonflame give orders."
The words seemed to defend Daemon but highlighted the key point—Targaryens controlled the dragons. If the wartime commander was not a royal, coordinating dragons and fleet would be difficult.
Viserys spoke at the right moment: "The royal fleet under the heir's direct control, the united fleet with a council—this method is feasible. It balances all sides and prevents excessive power concentration."
Jaehaerys looked at the assembly, his gaze finally landing on Daemon who seemed about to speak but held back: "Do you have anything to add?"
Daemon rose, Blackfyre's scabbard lightly touching the floor, his tone steady: "We can add a dragonrider representative to the council, held by those capable of riding dragons. Currently Vhagar, The Cannibal, Caraxes, and even Meleys can take the field. In wartime, dragonriders and fleet commanders must jointly plan strategy to avoid dragonfire accidentally harming our own forces. Additionally, three-tenths of the Stepstones tax silver should be allocated to a fleet maintenance fund for warship repairs and crew salaries, to prevent lords from growing resentful over excessive costs."
This proposal both safeguarded the royal house's control over dragons and reassured the lords with "salary guarantees." Even Otto could find no grounds to refute it—one could hardly say "dragonriders should not participate in council" when the royal dragons were the united fleet's core combat power.
After all, his own dear friend was unreliable. Despite having dragonrider grandparents, father, siblings, and even his late mother, and having once ridden the legendary Balerion the Black Dread himself, five years after Balerion's fall he still hadn't chosen another dragon. There were suitable young dragons in both the Dragonpit of King's Landing and on Dragonstone.
On the high seat, Jaehaerys nodded slowly and brought his scepter down heavily: "Approved as proposed. Triarchy trade tax delivery points set at Lannisport and Driftmark. Stepstones officials selected proportionally by warship contributions. Night's Watch supplies coordinated by Vaemond Velaryon, Lancel Lannister, and future appointees. The united fleet will have a council; the royal fleet under the heir's direct control; dragonrider representatives to participate in wartime planning."
The atmosphere in the council chamber finally relaxed. Tymond began calculating how Westerlands silver mines could profit from the trade tax. Corlys discussed patrol team captain selections in low voices with Lyonel.
Only Otto remained standing by the long table, his gaze sweeping over Daemon and Daemon Targaryen. A flash of unwillingness crossed his eyes—today he had failed to secure future fleet command for Viserys, but it made him even clearer that the private alliances between other Targaryen dragonseeds and the lords were far more solid than he had anticipated.
Daemon lowered his head to stroke Grey Ghost's head. The little dragon was gnawing on a seashell and rubbing against his hand, seemingly sensing the meeting's end and the lightened mood.
He looked up toward the high windows. The morning light had gradually shifted toward noon. In his heart, however, he was thinking about the northern lights Vaegon had mentioned. The Night's Watch warning was no small matter. After the meeting, he needed to have Larys investigate some old Wall cases. Perhaps they could find some clues for dealing with the Others.
"Little Daemon!" Daemon Targaryen sidled over, wine flask in hand again. "The meeting's over. Want to grab a drink at the tavern outside the Red Keep? Tymond said today's new Westerlands wine is on him!"
Daemon was about to refuse when he saw Jaehaerys, Baelon, and Viserys cast looks suggesting "moderate relaxation." He smiled and nodded: "Fine, but you can't race Borros to see who drinks faster again. Last time you passed out on the Street of Silk and I had to carry you back."
Grey Ghost seemed to understand the word "going out." He immediately stood up from the ground. The seashell in his mouth dropped, but he paid it no mind, only circling excitedly around Daemon's ankles.
Outside the hall came the light clank of Kingsguard armor. Ser Ryan Redwyne waited to escort the king back to his chambers, while Ser Clement Crabb gave Daemon a slight nod—clearly having prepared an escort.
The people in the council chamber gradually dispersed. Only Otto remained standing beside the long table, his fingertips repeatedly stroking the words "united fleet council" on the scroll.
Mond Hightower walked over and asked quietly: "Uncle, are we just letting it go like this?"
Otto slowly shook his head, a cold light flashing in his eyes: "What's the hurry? The lords of the Seven Kingdoms all have their own agendas. As time passes, there will always be dissatisfaction. We only need to wait. There will always be opportunities we can seize."
Morning light completely filled the council chamber. The sheepskin scrolls on the long table remained spread open, their ink still wet. Within the fresh script lay both Westeros's new order and unextinguished undercurrents.
Daemon led Grey Ghost out the door. The Cannibal's dragon roar drifted from the distant hills—low yet powerful. That was the power of House Targaryen, and also the foundation for him to protect this peace.
He knew today's resolutions were only the beginning. The shadows of the Wall, Otto's schemes, and the lingering ripples from the Triarchy all waited ahead.
But as long as he had dragons by his side and trustworthy people, he could weather any storm.