Chapter 49
MATARYS TARGARYEN
It took nearly a month for the fighting to end, but after that, the realm was at peace. But the war was not over. Not yet.
There were still a few Blackfyres breathing on the other side of the Sunset Sea, and Matarys would not rest until they were all put to the sword.
In Westeros, the Crown had offered no mercy to the traitors. Most of the Houses that turned their blade against the Crown had already exhausted all the mercy afforded by them during the First Blackfyre Rebellion, and so they would have none of it this time.
Many Houses met their end by the end of the war, but that was just the beginning. The Crown had already announced its decision to annex the Iron Islands, but with the victory in the war, the Crown had to decide on the fate of many more territories all over the land.
So, his father gathered an informal Council to deliberate on the fate of such gatherings. He had called on him, and Valarr along with Lord Brynden so that they might decide on the future of the realm, now that peace had been obtained.
"Annex them all," Matarys declared without wasting a second, as everyone in the room turned towards him.
"Don't you think that this is a bit too harsh?" spoke Valarr, but Matarys scoffed.
"Twice now, the realm has rebelled against our House. Twice," he raised his fingers as he looked at everyone in the room.
"We showed them mercy the first time, but too much mercy on one's enemy is cruelty to one's own self. The lords made their beds when they chose to side with the Blackfyres over us, now let them lie in it," and Lord Brynden nodded.
"I agree, but managing so much territory will not be an easy task," spoke his father, and Matarys had expected such an answer.
"I know that, and that is why I have a few proposals," and he reached into his pocket, took out a massive scroll, and placed it on his father's desk.
"The two rebellions have shown that we cannot rely on the archaic ways of old to maintain this empire. The Gods have given us a chance, and we would be fools to not take advantage of that," and this war had simply made obvious what he had always known.
"Aegon Targaryen was able to forge the Seven Kingdoms into one, but we have yet to make them our own," he spoke to three of them while his father read through his proposals.
"Each Kingdom still has its own laws, and lords still hold their own courts. And dole out their own justice. They build alliances with one another through fosterings and marriages, and in their lies the weakness of our current system," and he would rectify this, if not for himself, then for the generations to come after them.
"What are you proposing, brother?" questioned Valarr, and it was their father who answered.
"A common law," and the surprise was obvious on everyone's face.
"The Crown will form a common law that will be followed all over the realm. One law, codified in text that shall be the law of the land from Plankytown to the Wall," but that was not what he was proposing.
"The Crown will expand its judicial powers, and justice in the land shall be dolled out by this executive branch based on the laws written by the Crown," and no King before them had dared to do so, for fear of rebellion and treachery.
"This would incite rebellion," Lord Brynden countered.
"Let them rebel," Matarys challenged.
"We will crush them with our army," and now Valarr cut in once more.
"Army," and he nodded.
"A standing army, one loyal only to the Crown, stationed all over the realm in strategic locations that would allow us to exert our power and influence all over the realm without needing to rely on the goodwill of the lords," and he pointed towards the map.
"I intend to make Harrenhall as the first base, and then we use the annexed lands to build forts and station small contingents all over the realm," and he already had a few locations in mind.
"We build a great institute. A college where young sons, and perhaps even daughters, from all over the realm shall gather to learn the art of governing and leading," and no such place existed in the entire Seven Kingdoms.
"The young lords and heirs will gather there and learn to be proper lords worthy of their titles. The young Princes shall also attend the institute and use the place to build friendships and alliances," but those were only the obvious purposes of the place, the one's that could be mentioned in text.
"This also gives us an advantage, for no lord will dare rebel against the Crown while their own son or daughter sits in the Crown's College," and now everyone was looking at him with different expressions, and he could see Lord Brynden nodding at the suggestions, agreeing with his ideas.
His own brother saw the sense in them, while his father was busy skimming through his proposals.
"You have given it all much thought," Baelor Targaryen offered, nodding.
"Yes, I have," and the proposals were more elaborate.
"We will first need to stabilize the realm. Fill up our coffers, but I believe it would be a mistake to let this all end here and not take a lesson from all this," and he would finish the work of the Conqueror.
"Today, a child born in the Stormlands identified himself more with his lord and his land than with the Iron Throne and Westeros. We must change that. We must forge the Seven Kingdoms into one, centralized kingdom," and he would see it done.
"A Kingdom where the power flows down from the Iron Throne, where the lords and the people are all beholden to us, the Royal Family, and not their petty lords whose ambition and greed know no bounds," and his father nodded.
"If that is your desire, then you must see this through yourself," the King gave his assent, and Matarys nodded.
"I shall, after my return from Essos," and now his father frowned.
"Essos?" he questioned, and he forgot that he had not told them about his intentions.
"I intend to hunt down the rest of the Blackfyres," Matarys declared his intentions.
"I will not rest until the threat of the Blackfyres is ended once and for all. They will die either by my blade or by Silverwing's fire. But they will die nonetheless. I intend to make sure of that," and Lord Brynden was quick to counter.
"My Prince, we have won the war. We have killed Aegor and slain his sell swords. There is no need for you to do this," and he shook his head.
"My grandfather offered Daemon and his ilk mercy, and now, decades after his demise, we still suffer from the consequences of his decisions. We must rid the world of the pretenders so that our children will not have to face these troubles," and what could anyone say to that?
"What of your son? What of Maekar?" questioned his father, and that was troubling indeed.
"He shall remain with mother until my return," and he had no intention of taking too much time with this.
"If that is your deci..."
"I have something to say as well," Valarr cut in, as he turned towards his elder brother. He hesitated for a few seconds, biting his lip and rubbing his hands before he drew in a breath and made his announcement.
"I intend to abdicate from my position as heir," and for many a second there was only silence in the solar, as they all tried to make sense of his words.
"Why!" he asked, turning towards their father, who, unlike him, did not seem so surprised by Valarr's admission.
"This is hubris!" Matarys countered.
"You are the Crown Prince. You cannot abdicate your position," and his brother looked towards him.
"I can actually. There is precedent," and Matarys did not care for it.
"Why would you even do such a thing?" and suddenly it hit him.
"It is because of me?" he guessed, and it began to make sense to him.
"You need not fear anything, brother. I would much rather slit my own throat than draw a blade against you," he assured him, and he loved Valarr. He was his brother. He would never betray him.
He pointed towards the proposals he had handed off to their father.
"If it is my ambition you question, then you need not heed my..."
"It is not you brother," Valarr cut in with a chuckle as he held his hand.
"I know already that you would never betray me. I trust you, but I have made this decision after some great deliberation," and now Valarr's gaze fell to the ground.
"I love my wife, but the war and its troubles have taken a toll on her. She can no longer give me the heir I desire, and I do not have the heart to abandon her after all that she has suffered for my sake," and Matarys's blood boiled with rage as he was reminded of his good sister's suffering.
"Everyone here knows that you have always been more suited for the Throne, even though you never coveted it. Your proposals today simply made it all the more certain that you would make a far better King than I could ever hope to be," and Valarr finally looked up, and let his gaze.
"I am blessed to have a brother like you," and Matarys turned towards their father, hoping that he would make Valarr see sense, but his face and eyes told him that he agreed with the idea as well.
"So be it," their father announced, accepting his brother's resignation.
"This is wrong," Matarys countered.
"You were always meant to be a King, brother," Valarr added.
"I am simply hastening the process," and his father turned towards him.
"You have always gone beyond my expectations. The truth is that I am an old man, one who is living on borrowed time. These ideas of yours, you are the only one who can see them through," and Matarys looked towards the roof and sighed.
"It is a burden indeed, but one that you have already shouldered. King or not, the entire realm looks to you in either fear or admiration. Kingship shall only offer these burdens a title," and so it was a consensus.
He had a suspicion that his father was already aware of Valarr's intentions but had not mentioned it to him.
"You will make a fine King, my Prince," Lord Brynden added, and as he gave each of them one final glance, he nodded.
"I shall do it...."
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