The Council of King Aethan

Posted on Tue Sep 28th, 2021 @ 12:10am by Lord Brannis Baratheon & King Aethan Velaryon & Lord Garth Blackwater & Lord Jonah Tully & Lord Myles Lannister & Ser Stevron Velaryon & Grand Maester Othro

Mission: The Iron Price
Location: Small Council Chambers, Red Keep
Timeline: Morning, 6th Day of the 12nd Moon,404 AC

Aethan had spent a great deal of time over the last few days putting together his inaugural Small Council, and today was the day that work would pay off. As the sun set the previous day he had sent ravens to inform those he'd selected and summon them to meet and finalize plans for his coronation and the Royal Wedding.

Aethan, with the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard walked from the Royal apartments to the council chamber. "Ser Thommas, how long have you served as Lord Commander?" Aethan adjusted the book, and parchment he held under his arm.

Thommas walked tall next to his new King. His armour looked well-used and well-kept. Dents and scratches adorned it, but it was recently scoured and polished by his squire. His visor was up, and silvered whiskers poked out. "Your grace, I served as Lord Commander for King Waynn for the last seven years. I've been a sworn brother for the last twenty years."

The pair made their way into the chambers of the Small Council, and found it unoccupied. The King took his seat and gestured for Ser Thommas to do the same.

Seeing two of his brothers standing at the door, as well as a number of Velaryon house guards, Thommas joined the King at the large table.

Grand Maester Othro entered, bowing to the King and taking his seat. "Your Grace, Ser Thommas."

"Grand Maester, welcome," Aethan spoke with esteem for the Maester. " I suppose this is something you've both done before?" He spoke to both men before him.

"Only once, Your Grace," Othro replied. "I was elected by the Conclave shortly before the ascension of your predecessor."

It occurred to the King at that moment that he had never really looked into the background of the Grand Maester.

"Grand Maester." Thommas nodded.

Still reading a note he had received earlier, Jon walked into the chambers. His tunic a nice dark blue colour, mixed with black riding breeches and riding boots. "Your Grace." The Master of Coin greeted before joining them at the table.

"Lord Jonah." Aethan greeted his Master of Coin. "Did you have a chance to begin going over the ledgers?"

"Not yet. Lord Santigor had several of them hidden across the Keep. My men have been questioning Santigor's and found most of them. The only two missing contain Crownland debts to the Crown." Jon explained.

Aethan nodded. "I can see if my inquiry might help them find the last two. If you'd like?"

"It couldn't hurt. I suspect he has loaned his house quite a bit of gold and by not producing the ledgers he hopes to wipe his slate clean." Jon said.

"I'll have to pay him a visit." Aethan said, his head turned towards the door.

The footfall of riding boots sounded on the floor. With the flourish of a black cape, Brannis Baratheon appeared. His move pushed the cape back over one shoulder and he undid his riding gloves with single yanks at the fingers. "Your Grace, my Lords," Brannis said with his charming smile. "I apologize for my dishevelment," Brannis said- though he did not look it. He wore black with slashes of a pale Baratheon gold beneath. With a final unclasp and push, his cloak fell. And he bid the room a more proper bow. "Good Morning."

Aethan looked on with a fascination. Brannis shared much of the same appeal as his brother. The King's musing was quickly interrupted by another arrival.

Stevron looked much more at ease than he had in his previous posting on the Small Council. This one would require his presence less, and that truly pleased the Velaryon man. "Nephew." He said with a slight bow. "My Lords." He took a seat next to the Grand Maester.

The sound of Garth’s gold rose-tipped cane announced his arrival before anything else. The old him to the king walked into the room with his head bow down and contemplation. He had in one arm a small tone in which he kept his notes.

“Your Grace. My Lords.” He said with a satisfied, though pensive smile. “Today is a new day.” And then he took his place at the end of the table opposite the King.

Aethan regarded his Hand as he sat. "Welcome Lord Garth."

Arron Martell’s entrance was subtle enough that most didn’t notice the swift-moving young man until he was almost to his chair. He lowered himself in and made himself comfortable before drawing his arms close to his body and making himself small. He looked around with his giant haunted brown eyes, eyes that looked as if he’d seen a ghost, but he said nothing. He had a way of slipping into the background which made him very good at what he did.

With due charismatic reverence, Brannis rose at the sight of his senior and grandfather. He bowed. "Grandfather. It's been too long." He straightened and eyed the Martell. "Ser. A pleasure," he said with an extension of his hand. But there was the hardness to his green eyes, of two combatants, meeting in parlay rather than as friends.

“Garth gave a warm and polite smile at his grandson’s gesture, then turned his expression to the Martell, who seemed to return Brannis’ greeting with nothing but a strange glance and silence. Who was this man, truly? Was this an act or was he truly disturbed? He knew that Lord Martell was here in his recommendation and felt a pant of anxiety in his aging belly.

"Lord Arron. Good Welcome." The King smiled. "Now that we have all found our way in, let's begin."

"There are a number of matters I want to discuss in this first meeting. " The King clearly didn't want to waste time. "The first being the matter of the coronation. It will take place in four days time at the Great Sept."

"I suspect that it will be a rather austere event then," Jon noted. "The head cook and the head of the larders has already been by requesting more gold than they normally should according to the ledgers. They've reported that with such an abundance of lords in residence, the funeral, the feasts, my own wedding, and the festivities in your name the markets are looking rather sparse."

Aethan shook his head. "I've already spoken to Lord Garth about this. We will forgo the Coronation feast, and any additional festivities to save the expense. With the Royal wedding and the progress thereafter I see no reason to double the expense unnecessarily."

“The people will not be happy, but they will not be a problem for us.” The Hand said, looking around the room. “Though we might consider doing something soon for the small folk; they do take generosity as the sign of a good King.

"Since we will be away from the Red Keep following the wedding, perhaps we can set up stalls to serve food to the smallfolk in celebration of the coronation and the wedding. Nothing extravagant, but something special. Ale with the meal perhaps?" Aethan was unsure what would be considered generous for the small folk.

"This is your chance, My King," Brannis said, "To show your connection and magnanimity to your people. This will set the tone of your entire reign." His raven-colored eyebrows raised, "Might I suggest, to use a smallfolk word, you splurge for them? Be youthful, be energetic, be generous. Commutations for those convicted of small crimes. Donations to orphanages. Wool yarn for expectant mothers. And everyone gets bread and beer."

Aethan nodded. "Fine suggestions. Can we find the gold for such expenditures?" Aethan looked towards Lord Jonah.

"I can make the arrangements, your grace." Jon said as he made a few notes. "Bread, stew, and beer are traditional celebration fare. I'll spend the extra gold to make sure that even in Fleabottom there isn't rat in the pot but proper pork. The orphanages are already paid by the Red Keep, it was part of Queen Margaery's changes, and none after her wanted to change that due to the potential backlash. But we can find some extra coin for the orphans and the mothers. It won't put us in deeper debt to be gracious to the smallest of smallfolk."

A smile crossed Aethan's face and quickly faded. "I have something less joyous that I need us to discuss. The Ironborn."

Arron Martell watched the King with interest and returned a simple look of inquiry.“I have heard that certain promises were made that clearly haven’t been fulfilled.”

Aethan’s face blushed a deep red.

Further down the table Stevron Velaryon visibly shrunk in his seat.

“Without droning on and on, the Ironborn expect independence from the realm and an island in Blackwater Bay. We need to consider how to go about squashing that.” The King said, plainly, maintaining his composure. He looked around to see if anyone had suggestions on the topic.

"The Ironborn have two factors that would need to be dispatched to break them of their ideal. Their fleet, and their islands. The Iron Fleet is large, possibly larger than the Royal Fleet. We'd need aid from the Lannister fleet in the West to patrol against them, and the Royal Fleet here in the East. If we break the Iron Fleet, we break their means of rebelling. After that we'd need to break several castles. That's work some of us are quite comfortable with." He looked at Aethan, "But it will be an expensive endeavour. We'll need to call your vassals, and it will not be a swift engagement. And there is no large price to find inside those drafty wet halls they call home."

Brannis' gaze was troubled while he studied the shirking Stevron. "If the Crown's promises go unfulfilled," He said cautiously as if calculating a chess move, "It undermines trust among the lords of the Six KIngdoms. Other houses may be reluctant to step into agreements with us. "Would it not be better to cut them loose and banish them from our ports? Without food and supplies, they would wither and may ask to return."

Lord Lannister spoke up, his words directed towards Brannis. "It was not the Crown's promise, it was the word of an ill advised uncle, currying support for his nephew." He shot a pointed look to Stevron then returned his gaze to Brannis. "If we allow the Ironborn independence then every lord with a bit of land will demand it as well. We would find ourselves at war with everyone just to placate the Ironborn."

Brannis bowed his head at the Lannister Lord, "I understand that My Lord. I pray we do not underestimate the military capabilities or their resiliency. They have gone unpruned and unchecked for over one hundred years. We do not know their abilities, or their ambitions."

Aethan's mind was wandering. He had other issues pressing for his attention. His coronation and wedding with paramount to him. The King stood, pushing his chair back which squeaked along the stone floor. "My Lords, the Ironborn have long been more talk than action. Particularly on a large scale. " He looked around. "I will leave the issue to you, as I can think of no better minds to tackle it. But I pray you do not overestimate their abilities. These are small men led by a woman."

"We would be foolish to undermine any woman who can command the Ironborn's loyalties. I recommend we strike swiftly, and decisively. Break their spirits, take their children as wards, and deny them any significant naval strength in the future." Jon stated calmly. "Let us remind them that the Sea Stone Chair is no longer a king's throne, nor a queen's throne."

"Quite right." Aethan said. "I will leave it to your capable hands my Lords."