House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Chapter 142: Chapter 141 – Winds of Change (II)

Braavosian Coastland.

Maekar watched Bahamut regurgitate a large amount of fish and push them toward him with an expressionless look. He understood the dragon wanted him to eat, but seeing the fish covered in foul, disgusting saliva, he simply rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, but you can keep it,” Maekar said in a dry tone with not the slightest appetite.

Bahamut looked at Maekar and nudged the rider’s body with his snout. It was a light touch, but Maekar simply fell backward, landing in the soft sand of the beach. Without any hesitation, the dragon pushed the pile of regurgitated fish on top of his body.

Maekar, covered in fish and dragon saliva, wore a sorrowful expression. Looking at the dragon, he clenched his teeth and spoke in a tone full of helplessness. “Okay, I get it; you want me to eat. I’ll eat!”

The dragon showed a rather humanlike expression of satisfaction and lay down on the beach to recover his strength and heal the wounds from battle.

Moments later, Maekar could be seen beside a bonfire as he roasted a few fish. His violet eyes stared at the horizon with a thoughtful look. With the destruction of Braavos’s main fleet, the free city would be defenseless for some time.

They would have to use merchant ships as warships and patrol the waters against pirates. This would also affect all of Braavos’s trade and that of many other free cities. It could be said that he had made countless people suffer.

However, that wasn’t what Maekar was thinking about. He had destroyed the Titan of Braavos. That colossus of stone and metal was the symbol and pride of the city state. He wouldn’t be surprised if Braavos launched a war of annihilation in search of revenge.

Without the main fleet, Braavos had only one thing left to hurt Maekar with. The House of Black and White. The Faceless Men were the only ones who could do anything against him. This wasn’t Maekar’s arrogance speaking. With his mastery of Lancelot’s Eternal Arms, he was absolutely unbeatable in single combat or even against a group.

Maekar had no doubt that Bessaro hated him to his very core. The man might do anything to get revenge on him. Which, if he were Bessaro, he would do the same. Watching an enemy thrive was a thousand times more painful than anything else.

“Should I burn down the House of Black and White?” Maekar murmured, furrowing his brow. But he soon discarded the idea. The House of Black and White was located in the heart of Braavos. Entering that city was the same as putting himself in the sights of hundreds of scorpions.

Mathematically, given Bahamut’s size, the odds of being hit were extremely high.

“Will those death-worshipping fools refuse or accept Bessaro’s request?” Maekar wore a thoughtful look. Looking at it objectively, it was in the House of Black and White’s interest to refuse to try to assassinate Maekar a second time.

Knowing his abilities, the House of Black and White would know it could fail and further tarnish the reputation of assassins who were 100% effective on their missions. Still, Maekar also doubted the Faceless Men would accept the request just to restore their reputation.

“What a lovely problem.” Maekar murmured, feeling somewhat helpless. Fighting assassins who could disguise themselves as anyone was a complicated matter. Especially knowing they could hide in the darkest corners, waiting for the right moment.

Maekar’s desire for magic grew stronger. If he had magic, he could at least try to unravel the mysteries of the Faceless Men or devise a similar method and reshape his entire organization, thereby creating a secure perimeter.

Picking up the already roasted fish, Maekar took a bite and showed a satisfied look at the taste. For some reason, the fish tasted delicious. He wondered whether dragon saliva could work as a seasoning or whether it was just his Targaryen blood talking.

“Anyway, it’ll take a while for anything to happen. The Great Council is approaching, and I should prepare for any dirty move from Jaehaerys.” Maekar set these problems aside and focused on his main goal.

Maekar didn’t underestimate how mad Jaehaerys could be. The old king might see the outcome of the Great Council and change course at the last minute without any hesitation. The prince didn’t doubt in the slightest that Jaehaerys was capable of doing such a thing.

Because of this, Maekar was prepared to seize the Red Keep and lock the old king in one of the towers, letting him wither away alone. The only problem was the Kingsguard and the City Watch. Those people wouldn’t stand idle watching the king being taken and locked in one of the towers.

Especially the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Ryam Redwyne. The man would die in the year 101, but before that, he was still the deadliest man on the continent. Aside from Maekar himself, everyone else should yield to his sword.

“I hope Jaehaerys doesn’t try anything improper.” Maekar murmured, feeling that seizing power was quite complicated. Still, he was determined to sit on the Iron Throne.

Maekar also had the option of skipping the Great Council and retreating to Harrenhal, waiting for the fools to kill each other in the Dance of the Dragons, but he wasn’t willing to waste thirty years of his life waiting for the Dance of the Dragons to happen. That was too much time.

Because of this, Maekar might even risk staging a coup and seizing the throne for himself, just as Maegor had done to Aegon, Aenys I’s eldest son. Although that might bring him eternal infamy, Maekar knew that if you wish to rule, you must bear the weight of the crown.

Letting out a sigh, Maekar touched Bahamut’s scales and leaned against the gigantic dragon, gazing up at the night sky.

Bahamut opened his eyes and looked at Maekar with his enormous golden eyes. The dragon gently nudged Maekar’s body, as if to say. “I’ll be with you, partner.”

Maekar noticed this and showed a smile. “I know, we’ll fight together again.”

After so many battles with Bahamut, Maekar and the dragon were already inseparable. Each entrusted his life to the other.

Letting out another sigh, Maekar looked toward Braavos and decided to burn a few more ships in the waters around the free city. He would stay in Essos a while longer.

–

Two days later.

Continent of Westeros, Capital of the Realm, King’s Landing.

Jaehaerys looked at the report in his hands, then looked out at the entire court gathered before the Iron Throne. Despite his own feelings, the king spoke in a calm tone.

“In retaliation for the attack on White Harbor, Prince Maekar, riding the dragon Bahamut, crossed the sea and attacked the Free City of Braavos. He burned the free city’s fleet of ships and then brought down the Titan.”

Silence followed the king’s words, but it was broken by none other than the Lord of Winterfell, Ellard Stark.

“THE BOY IS INCREDIBLE!!!” Ellard shouted loudly as he rose to his feet with a broad smile on his lips.

Ever since learning of White Harbor’s fall, Ellard had been in a foul mood and extremely irritated. But even he hadn’t expected Maekar to march into enemy territory and accomplish something as great as bringing down the Titan of Braavos.

“MAEKAR, THE TITAN SLAYER!!!” Ellard looked at the northern lords and shouted. His vassals rose to their feet and shouted along with their liege lord.

“MAEKAR, THE TITAN SLAYER!!!”

“MAEKAR, THE TITAN SLAYER!!!”

“MAEKAR, THE TITAN SLAYER!!!”

It wasn’t only the people of the North who were pleased. Lords from other regions were pleased as well. The destruction of Braavos’s fleet meant the free city had no way of attacking again anytime soon, and the war had reached a point where negotiations were essential.

They themselves didn’t want this war to drag on much longer. War was costly, especially a naval war.

Braavos having suffered such a heavy blow was a good thing since it could force the free city to begin peace negotiations.

Jaehaerys looked at the joyful atmosphere in the Great Hall and couldn’t help but let out a sigh full of complicated feelings. Viserys stood no chance at all; the momentum of the Great Council was already in Maekar’s hands.

Maekar had the votes of the Riverlands after his display of power destroying Houses Bracken and Frey. He had the support of the Stormlands, the support of House Velaryon, the support of House Martell, and the support of the North.

House Greyjoy would probably vote for Maekar just to spite him, the same as House Stark was doing. Aside from the Crownlands and the Westerlands, Viserys didn’t have enough support to compete with Maekar at the Great Council.

Suddenly, Jaehaerys remembered that Dorne was still caught in a conflict involving Princess Mara’s uncle, which was an opportunity for Viserys to win Dorne over.

Still, would Mors Martell support Viserys? Jaehaerys thought he would, especially given the hatred the prince felt toward Maekar.

‘Viserys, now you have to work harder than ever. ‘ Jaehaerys thought, letting out a heavy sigh.

——

Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard

Stepstones.

Viserys watched Caraxes land on the ground with a calm gaze and a smile on his lips. Daemon had just returned from yet another raid against Tyrosh. His grandfather’s words had been simple, aimed at attacking Tyrosh until it compensated House Targaryen for the war’s losses.

One could say they were beating on someone already down on the ground and demanding compensation. Still, even Viserys wasn’t against such a method. House Targaryen’s losses hadn’t been great, but the money spent had been enormous.

House Velaryon would pay for the war, but it was also good to extort money from the enemy. At least that gold wouldn’t end up in Dothraki hands.

“Good evening, my prince.” Hearing a voice behind him, Viserys turned and saw a middle-aged man with olive skin and black hair. His eyes were dark brown, and he had a beard around his face. He wore yellow clothes bearing House Martell’s sigil.

“Prince Mors,” Viserys greeted the man with a polite smile, though he felt sick at the thought of his past. He truly despised a man capable of imprisoning his own niece for her entire life.

Despite his dislike for Mors, Viserys didn’t show his feelings, proving he had matured more than in previous months. If it had been before, he might not have been able to hide what he felt.

“News just arrived from King’s Landing.” Mors looked at the prince before him with a smile. If Viserys despised Mors, Mors also despised Viserys, whom he considered weak, overly emotional, and incredibly foolish.

“Prince Maekar burned the Free City’s fleet and brought down the Titan of Braavos. The realm is celebrating, and the end of the war draws near.” Mors remarked with a smile, looking at Viserys with a calm, penetrating gaze.

“That’s good; I want to go back to King’s Landing as soon as possible.” Viserys smiled at the news and let out a laugh.

Even being a master at controlling his emotions, Mors couldn’t help but show a stunned look at Viserys. Did the prince truly understand the implications and the power behind Maekar’s actions? Never mind the lords, every commoner in the realm would know Maekar’s name. He would be remembered by history as a great hero!

Mors tried to spot some falseness in Viserys’s reaction, but he was shocked to discover the prince was genuinely happy about Maekar’s achievements.

Could someone really be so foolish in this world? For the first time, Mors felt the future looked bleak. No matter how powerful Maekar might be, there would always be enemies to face together. Still, looking at Viserys, his hope of becoming Prince of Dorne seemed to vanish like a dune in the desert.

Could a man like this truly fight Maekar for the throne?

Mors admitted Viserys had certain qualities, but his qualities weren’t good enough to compare with Maekar’s accomplishments. What good were friends if those friends might vote for someone better?

“What’s going on?” Mors heard a cold voice and looked to the side, only to see Prince Daemon approaching with a weary expression. Compared to Viserys, Mors genuinely admired Daemon. That young man could be cruel and just at once, impulsive and calm, and could be as much a demon as a god.

The Prince of Dorne told Daemon what he had just told Viserys.

Daemon’s lips twisted seeing the smile on Viserys’s face. He wondered if, when their mother used to take Viserys to ride Meleys, Viserys had hit his head on one of the dragon’s spikes. Because there was no way Viserys should be this happy about Maekar’s achievements.

“Viserys, you know you’ll probably lose the Great Council, right?” Daemon was direct with his words. Wasting time at this moment was the same as handing Maekar the throne, something he couldn’t accept.

The smile on Viserys’s lips stiffened; all his joy evaporated in an instant. He looked at his brother and spoke in a confident tone. “I have the king’s support, Daemon.”

“Maekar has the North, the Reach, the Riverlands, and most of the Crownlands.” Daemon crushed all of Viserys’s hope without any hesitation. He looked at Mors and continued speaking in a calm tone. “You only have the king’s supporters, the Vale of Arryn, and possibly Dorne.”

“Now tell me, are you still so confident?” Daemon asked in a cold tone.

“I have the support of the Faith of the Seven and the Maesters.” Viserys countered Daemon’s words with an expression less confident than before.

Daemon was surprised and nodded. Just as Viserys had said, he truly did have the support of the Faith of the Seven and the Order of Maesters. That was a great help, especially Faith’s support.

“Did you receive some visit from the Faith of the Seven before?” Daemon asked, furrowing his brow. Remembering there had been no septon in Viserys’s retinue.

“Septon York met with me before I left for Dorne. He said he’d support me in exchange for protection at some point in the future, something like that. I didn’t quite understand why the Faith of the Seven would feel threatened, but I accepted the offer.” Viserys said, furrowing his brow. Still finding the meeting with Septon York strange.

It wasn’t only Viserys who was furrowing his brow; Daemon and Mors were too. They exchanged glances and looked equally puzzled. The whole situation seemed strange. This was the Faith of the Seven, one of the greatest religions in the world. What could make such an organization ask for protection at some point in the future?

Was it merely a precaution?

Daemon couldn’t help but feel there was something very wrong with this proposal. The rogue prince furrowed his brow but soon set these thoughts aside. With the Faith of the Seven at Viserys’s side, he could gain countless allies, especially among the devout noble houses.

“Still, that isn’t enough, and I never said I would support you, my dear princes,” Mors said with a polite smile. The more desperate Viserys and Daemon became, the more he could profit from the current situation.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Prince Mors.” Daemon wasn’t Viserys, and he spoke in a cold, indifferent tone. “You can’t support Maekar because of Princess Mara. You have no choice but to support Viserys, or you can forget any chance of inheriting Sunspear.”

“My niece might suffer some unfortunate accident, and I would still have Dorne.” Mors showed no weakness and spoke in a cold tone, looking at Daemon with a calm, penetrating gaze.

Viserys furrowed his brow at Mors’s mention of murdering his own niece. How could he trust a man capable of killing his own family for power and titles? He would rather not have such a cruel and venomous man at his side, since one never knew when betrayal might come.

“If Mara dies, you can forget about inheriting the Sun Throne.” Daemon spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Maekar will kill you like a pig.”

“Now that you know of his latest deeds, you also know you can’t fight him.” Daemon’s words left Mors silent. Yes, he couldn’t kill Mara, which filled him with a fury he had never felt before.

If he killed Mara, he would die, because Maekar protected Mara. As for whether he’d survive otherwise, Mors didn’t have much confidence in that either, especially with Maekar’s accomplishments piling up like a mountain over the course of this war.

“The only thing you can do is accept bending the knee to Viserys and hope Viserys becomes king so he can help you reclaim Sunspear.” Daemon, seeing the hesitation on Mors’s face, spoke in a calm, confident tone.

Letting out a sigh, Mors knew Daemon was testing him, but, as he’d said before, he had no choice. Of course, he had a choice; he could back down and let Mara take control of Dorne, but Mors would rather die than let the power he had built vanish.

“I will help you, Your Grace.” Mors said in a cold tone. “Half of Dorne will vote for you.”

Daemon furrowed his brow. “Half?”

“After Mara bent the knee to House Targaryen, other noble houses that had long wanted integration with the Seven Kingdoms joined her. ” Mors noticed Daemon’s displeasure and spoke in a calm tone.

Daemon let out a sigh and couldn’t help but curse Maekar’s luck for arriving in Dorne at such a good moment. One could say even Jaehaerys had helped Maekar in this, since those noble houses had ties to Jaehaerys.

—–

Read my other books:

House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard