Chapter 82: Chapter 82 - House Of Tyrell (I)
"The first impression is always more important. People started remembering you from that moment on." Aenar Targaryen, God-Emperor of Planetos.
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The crimson dragon flew over King's Landing, releasing scarlet flames that lit up the sky and painted the clouds a fiery red. The spectacle was as frightening as it was majestic. Caraxes flew with surprising grace, despite his enormous size, passing through the curtains of fire that he himself created, as if dancing in the air. Down below, the whole city stopped to watch.
The children, in particular, stared at the huge winged being with admiration and fascination, while the adults fought the instinct to flee. However, as the minutes passed, it became clear to everyone that the dragon and its rider had no intention of causing destruction.
And everyone knew exactly who they were.
The rumors that had been swirling around Westeros for months now hung alive and real in the sky.
Aenar Targaryen and his legendary crimson dragon, Caraxes.
"It's a demonstration," Tywin Lannister broke the silence inside the Small Council Chamber, the Lord of the Rock's voice cold and deep. He watched the dragon with an almost inhuman calm, while the others struggled to hide their discomfort.
"A display of strength and power," he continued, without taking his eyes off the spectacle. "Prince Targaryen is announcing his arrival to everyone in Westeros. No subterfuge, no cunning schemes. He wants us to know that he will face anyone head on."
Robert Baratheon, beside him, crossed his arms. The king's gaze was fixed on the dragon dancing among the flames, reflecting a mixture of worry and weariness. He no longer feared for his children's safety at that moment, but the sight of a Targaryen displaying such control and power made his heart heavy.
"At least he's not like his grandfather," murmured Renly Baratheon, almost in a whisper. But his words, full of fear, echoed in the silence of the room.
All eyes fell on him, many of them full of disapproval. Although it was natural to fear a dragon, the men there knew better than to show weakness. If the situation escalated into a confrontation, they would need a cool head and a quick reaction, and Renly seemed incapable of that.
Robert gave his brother a disgruntled look, but decided not to reprimand him. He turned his eyes to the sky, following the dragon's flight. Caraxes released another wave of flames, lighting up the horizon like an anticipated sunset.
Then, under the gaze of the whole of King's Landing, the dragon let out one last roar. Its deep, deafening cry reverberated like a warning. And then, with a powerful flick of his wings, Caraxes turned and flew off towards a new destination.
Inside the Small Council room, the expressions of those present changed dramatically as they realized the dragon's route.
They knew exactly where Aenar Targaryen was heading.
The Reach.
Robert's face was grim, don't say marriage, he'd be happy if The Reach didn't agree to join this war, but seeing the size of the dragon, he knew the chances of that happening were extremely slim. A fool could see who had the upper hand in the ensuing civil war.
"From this moment on, we must buy all the food we can in Essos as quickly as possible. We won't have enough food to sustain our armies." Robert ordered in a calm, majestic tone. Since Aenar was declaring war, he would not cower and would fight head on.
Tywin looked at Robert with an appreciative gaze, he finally saw the man of twelve years ago, a powerful and voracious warrior, the Demon of the Trident.
They needed a king like that right now, not a Drunken King. If Robert had remained the same man before the rebellion, they would have had a better chance of winning the war, because the people loved their king, making the Targaryen Prince's invasion extremely difficult.
But that was impossible at the moment. After more than a decade of rule, the people never really liked their king, they wouldn't be sorry even if Robert died the next day.
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"I thought Your Grace was going to come down and greet your cousin." Leda commented, with a hint of surprise in her voice. The white cloak over her shoulders was scorched at the edges, a silent testimony to the spectacle of fire that Caraxes had offered over the capital.
"Our first meeting will be on the battlefield, a more appropriate place for two monarchs to meet." Aenar took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil inside him. Only he knew how much he had resisted the temptation to land in King's Landing, to look Robert Baratheon in the eye and confront him right there.
But Aenar stopped himself, he didn't want to meet Robert in King's Landing, the battlefield would be an appropriate place for him to kill his father's murderer.
Leda watched her king carefully. She knew a bloodlust when she saw one. And at that moment, Aenar exuded a murderous desire so intense that it was almost visible, something she thought was impossible, but she could vaguely see the air around him moving in an abnormal way.
She admired him for it.
If it had been her, she would have given in. She wouldn't have bothered with formalities or waited for the ideal moment. Justice would be done immediately, without hesitation.
"We'll get to Reach in no time," Aenar commented, changing the subject to get his mind off his dark thoughts. An amused smile formed on his lips. "I'm looking forward to seeing the Queen of Thorns' expression."
Leda rolled her eyes, annoyed. Her king was good at many things, but his sense of humor was absolutely terrible. Who would care about someone's expressions in a situation like this?
As Leda could tell, with his Gift, Aenar rarely had surprises and in order to prevent himself from becoming an emotionless machine, who only thought about ruling perfectly in order to bring humanity to eternity, he liked to experience his own feelings with surprising intensity.
About an hour later, Aenar and Leda saw a huge river meandering through the green pastures.
Mander, the largest river in the Seven Kingdoms and also the source of all the Reach's prosperity.
The huge river nourished the soil, making it extremely fertile and perfect for large-scale plantations. It was no wonder that the Reach was the second richest kingdom, second only to the mineral-rich Western Lands.
Because of this wealth in food and money, the Reach had the largest army of the Seven Kingdoms, around seventy to one hundred thousand men, a truly giant army in medieval terms.
"It's beautiful." Leda commented, looking at the river of water meandering through the green plains. She, who had never left Dorne, had only been to Volantis and nothing else, so Westeros was completely new to her eyes.
Aenar didn't look at Mander, his eyes were focused on the huge castle built on a particularly high hill.
High Garden, The House of Tyrrell's Residence.
Aenar smiled and forced Caraxes to lower his altitude, making the castle seem closer and closer.
On the plains below, Willas Tyrell, wearing green and gold armor, was riding a horse expertly, despite being crippled in one leg. Knights of House Tyrell were protecting their lord, riding around him. The face of the Heir of Highgarden was calm, it had been a few days since he had ridden on the Reach.
It wasn't just for entertainment that he was doing this, but to see the surrounding terrain, he wanted to see if he might have other options should a war break out in the future.
Burning crops was indeed a great threat, but in the face of Tywin Lannister, the most ruthless man in Westeros, he felt that threatening a powerful man like Tywin with something so trivial in the face of the outcome of war was a bit risky.
"Milord-" Just as one of Willas' knights was about to speak, the loud, powerful sound rang out above them and a darkness covered everyone.
Confused, as there had been no sign of rain moments ago, Willas looked up and paled at the sight of the gigantic crimson shadow passing above him, causing strong winds to blow anything below. All the horses were intimidated by the aura of the biggest predator in the planet's food chain.
"Go back to the High Garden!!!" Willas grabbed his horse's reins and shouted to his riders, he wasted no time and rode at full speed towards the Upper Garden. An anxious expression appeared on the Heir of the Reach, he was praying to the Seven that Prince Targaryen would be someone understanding.
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