Chapter 33.6- The Seadragon's Roar

I had skilled sailors, warriors, bureaucrats at my beck and call. I could put them to work. Turn them on the problem of slavery and add the might of two dragons where needed. We would make so much progress that it felt like a crime to turn my back on it. But ending slavery, noble as it would be, was not going to put food on the table for House Velaryon. It would not give us an unassailable position from which to approach the doomsday event coming our way— the dying of the dragons.

And so I could not do it.

“Uncle, see to it that he is taken away and treated properly. He is our man. If the Triarchy want him back, they can come tell me in person” I said to the cheers of the mostly Baratheon warriors. Of course they were excited. Anything that smelt like more combat to them was worth celebrating. I could have removed his head, offended at the insult of being presented a slave, and they would have cheered just as loudly. I did not condemn them for it, but I made sure it was a fact I put in my mind no matter what. These people only supported me because they saw a promise of further violence.

“Maester, I would have you take down my words” I said, not needing to turn to Bernard to hear the shuffling of papers and now he was doing his duty.

“To the Triarchy,

I am Leanor Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, Lord of the Stepstones. I have received your gift, and thank you for it. The return of a citizen of mine is much appreciated. In return, I will give you a gift of my own. The gift is this: instead of saddling my dragon and flying to burn down the beautiful city of Lys, I shall saddle my dragon and fly to the Northernmost island of my territory in a sennight. There, I shall wait for your proper envoy, brought along with whatever of my people you still have in your custody, for no more than another sennight.

We shall discuss the terms of your surrender when you arrive. If you do not arrive, I will assume the state of hostilities between our peoples continue, and I shall turn my attention to Myr instead, to see just how beautiful the dyed city looks aflame. Do not test me.”

I dictated the words, slowly and methodically, making sure to think the threats over. I didn’t threaten Tyrosh because there was no point. The thing about a council like theirs was that its variety was its biggest strength and biggest weakness. The Tyrosh were the ‘wronged’ party and were probably chomping at the bit. That insult was a Tyroshi one from the slave marks at the very least. And his introduction had said he was owned by a Tyroshi magister. They wanted to keep fighting for their foolish pride, but the others would bring them to heel with their own cities threatened.

Either that, or we would find out if Vhagar and Igneel were enough to burn a city on their lonesome. I read over the letter before penning my signature to it.

Then I turned to Vaemond again. “Please have a messenger sail this to them on our fastest ship. He is not to disembark. He is not to make port at their harbour. He is to call them to the ship, give them the letter, and return at full speed.” I said.