A Regal Plan
Posted on Mon Mar 15th, 2021 @ 8:17pm by King Aethan Velaryon & Ser Stevron Velaryon & Lady Shireen Velaryon
Mission:
The Great Council
Location: Seasmoke Hold
Timeline: Just after the Reception at the Red Keep
The day had already been quite long. From the funerary ceremony at the beginning of the day, to the lengthy reception at the Red Keep. It almost seemed as though there was no chance to breathe. The day was ending as the Velaryon’s returned to Seasmoke Hold to rest before the Great Council meetings were to begin.
Shireen had already planned a meeting of her own to discuss how they would approach the issues at the Great Council.
The servants had a spread of dried fruits and cheese set in the gardens. The warm breeze filled the air with the scent of the sea. Shireen had changed into a grey silk coat dress. Something comfortable after a day of discomfort.
Stevron and Aethan joined the older woman in the garden where she was already seated. The younger Velaryon was eager to put his proposal forward to his Grandmother.
“Sit, we need to discuss strategy for the proceedings.” As usual, she was all business. “The Great Council will convene in the Dragonpits, Lord Sunderland will lead the discussions and call the vote as his last act as Hand.”
The two men sat silently as the wind blew the Velaryon banners that hung around them.
“I’ve been consulting with Maester Keven, and it is his educated opinion, and mine as well, that this experiment in elective monarch has been a failure. It’s time to return to the tested and proven that brought the kingdoms together in the first place.” She spoke plainly. “We need bred leaders to inspire the kingdoms and keep them together. I believe that should be us.”
Stevron was at a loss for words. He knew his mother was ambitious, he just didn’t realize how far that ambition extended.
“We already hold Dragonstone, which was the ancestral seat of the heir to the throne. And the Velaryon’s have a long and proud history of leadership in Westeros. Having led and controlled the bulk of the Royal Fleet for centuries, served as Hand to numerous Kings, and even ruled the realm countless times.” Shireen knew that what she said was making sense to her kin.
Stevron sat back. “You would have me vie for King?” He asked.
Shireen couldn’t contain her amusement. “Of course not, we are going to put Aethan’s name forward.”
Aethan, who had been paying little attention until this point his mind was on his own plan with Joanna Hightower, raised his eyebrows in shock. “What do you mean?” He asked incredulously. “Why would anyone think I can be King?”
“Superior breeding.” Shireen said with a smile. “We are born leaders, the blood of old Valyria and the lineage of power in Westeros dictates it.”
Aethan shook his head. “Do you think the Council would back a young Lord and a proposal to abolish their elective monarchy?” He was truly asking. He looked from his Grandmother to his Uncle hoping for some kind of answer.
“Maester Keven believes that the sentiment about our current leadership style permeates most Houses in the Kingdoms.” Shireen sounded sure. "We'll court some favours in the morning. Aethan and I will see to the Baratheon's. Stevron the Ironborn."
Stevron shifted in his seat. “So where does this plan leave me?”
Shireen waved her hand, “Don’t fret, you will be well taken care of. If all goes well, you’ll have Driftmark and a place on Aethan’s Small Council.”
Aethan’s head was reeling from all of the information. He needed, desperately, to discuss his proposed engagement to Joanna. But before he could raise a point, his Grandmother spoke again.
“As of tomorrow, it is acceptable for the Court to leave mourning. We must show a strong and united front as we enter the Great Council.” Shireen stood. “Thankfully, the council is not at the break of dawn, but we should still be sure to rest well.” She plucked a grape from the platter on the table and turned to head inside.
Aethan stared at his lap. Contemplating what all it meant for him. Shireen seemed confident in her plan.
Stevron kept replaying his mother’s words over and over in his head. “Driftmark.” He whispered breathily. That was all he’d ever wanted. Knowing his mother, he was certain it came with some kind of string attached. Ron pushed himself up from the seat and moved towards Aethan, he placed his hand on his nephew’s shoulder before heading inside.