(Lysa Tully, the Eyrie)
She watched as her little falcon transformed into his favorite form.
Flying around his future seat and looking for anything interesting that might catch his eye. She could barely keep an eye on him, whilst watching him from the courtyard.
Close by was the youngest of her beloved's dragons, Verna. Her deep jade green scales were so beautiful that they captivated the court who stared at the dragoness in awe and dread.
To see a Dragon up close was something many could only dream of, and seeing the beauty that was Verna was an unforgettable experience.
That and the fact that their future lord had transformed into the symbol of House Arryn, a House near-worshipped by the Vale. She could make out many whispers and exclamations that this was a sign from the gods, that the King and his line were destined to bring glory to the fallen Great House.
Lysa inwardly scoffed at their awe, her beloved had already brought unprecedented glory to the Arryns, he had conquered Westeros without dragons for the most part, meaning he had already surpassed that incestuous failure that was called Aegon.
The man couldn't even conquer every Kingdom, and his failure to manage his family nearly destroyed what he had.
Her son has shown his preference for the sky over the earth multiple times and she could scarcely get used to it. If it wasn't for her husband's assurances she would have had a panic fit worrying about him.
Sure they weren't officially married, but Erlend treated her like a husband treated his wife, and therefore she never cared for the necessity of ceremonies.
As long as he was with her, Lysa couldn't give less of a crap about those bimbos that surrounded him. She and Catelyn were the first in line and had given birth to his children, therefore their standing was higher.
Never mind the fact that Cat was his official wife.
Though, she couldn't deny her fondness for Malora. Odd as she was, Erlend's most eccentric lover had become a good friend of hers.
So she was ecstatic when the sorceress brought up the matter of equipping all the children with those special weapons of hers. They were curved daggers made out of a material that was not castle-forged steel as far as she could tell.
Malora claimed that they held anti-magical properties that made them particularly fatal to magic users who sought to use the children for their gain.
When Lysa first heard that there existed weapons capable of harming the magical, she'd nearly fainted out of fright, after all, what would stop their enemies from killing them if they accidentally got ahold of these weapons? Thankfully, her eccentric friend had explained that as long as Erlend blessed his children with his unique power, it would be able to serve as a counter-balance towards those properties.
Not to mention, he could place a charm on them, ensuring they would always return to their owner if lost.
Erlend had been pleasantly surprised when Malora revealed her latest creation, admitting to the fact that he had indeed developed his method of suppressing magicians and gods, but that it wasn't suited to any of his children.
He revealed that one first needed a ridiculous degree of control over a particular element, then they would have to replicate the same properties of the ore or stone Malora used to make her daggers and imbue them into said element.
Lysa could barely make heads or tails of the explanation, but suffice to say she realized, young as they were now, neither little Jasper nor any of the other kids could replicate their father's actions.
All in all, Malora's dagger came mighty useful just a few days after reports from the shadows had found that there was a bounty on the children in the black market. Be it dead or alive.
Sighing as she recalled that particular day, Lysa for the first time felt the true cost of having access to the wonderful power that was magic.
Yes, it afforded them great power, but the children would forever find themselves being coveted by the wretched and despicable sort who wanted to use them for their gain.
Erlend who had returned from his trip southwards had gone on a rampage with the bloodthirsty Velskud, slaughtering those who dared to display the bounty and going after the ones that offered it in the first place.
Last they'd heard of him, he was already on his way to the Far East, preparing to teach those pompous bastards what it truly meant to anger him.
She shook her head at their stupidity, their trade fleets had already been seized, their merchants imprisoned and their reputation destroyed for their audacity to join in the Sealords scheme.
Now they dared to place a bounty on the people he cared the most about, was it a wonder they found themselves in perpetual civil wars?
Before he left, Erlend had made it clear that if any of the children were to go out, one of his Dragons must always be with them to ensure their safety against supernatural threats.
"The Imperial Court might be the one that initiated the bounty, but I have no doubt, it was their sorcerers who encouraged them. Who knows if they decide to make a move themselves." Were his words.
Elia had suggested not leaving Firmridge, but it was denied. Lysa personally felt that taking such measures would only tarnish the image of the Crown and even encourage more idiots to take their chances.
Erlend and little Ed had already shown Westeros the price of going against them; it was best not to undermine those feats by showing weakness in the face of new threats.
Come to think of it, she wondered if this would usher in the newest collapse of Yi Ti, and leave it divided for centuries to come. Ironic considering House Mudd's history with that distant Empire.
'Oh well, it was their fault for doing something so foolish in the first place.'
…
(Erlend Mudd, ???)
Sat casually on the back of his most destructive child, Erlend wondered how his life had turned into a CN cliche.
Beat up someone, relax for barely a moment, and then another idiot shows up and tries to square up. To think just a few days ago, he had so much fun messing with the Queen of Thorns and the Prince of Patience.
Before he could even start enjoying the fruits of his labor, some asshole from the east decides to steer up trouble.
If he recalled correctly the saying went, "Has eyes but doesn't recognize Mount Tai."
Lightning danced around his fingertips, taking the shape of a cone before randomly striking at a few stray clouds, Velskud, ever the competitive dragon, spewed his destructive magma, trying to outdo his old man.
While lightning was not his most powerful ability, it was by far his favorite attribute, with water coming in second.
Sated with the lives of those who dared to display and spread the bounty, his adorable weapon of mass destruction had a lazy air about him. Becoming more playful and less murderous.
The two of them had been flying for quite a while now, he could have just traveled there on his own, but that was frankly boring. Also, his child deserved this well-earned rampage and murder spree.
Erlend fully intended to deal with the Imperial Court now, since they were so kind as to offer themselves up on a silver platter, it seemed quite fair for him to deal with them as soon as possible.
Westeros had learned its lesson, unfortunately Essos hadn't. So a more hands-on approach was to be expected.
Plus, this was the perfect justification to weaken his son's future enemies. Erlend held no illusions about his son's ambitions, the lad wanted to make him proud by expanding their burgeoning empire. Carving out a new golden age with his hands and outshining the Empire of the Dawn and the Valyrian Freehold.
Right now, Westeros was digesting its additions, restructuring the systems that had made the free cities so reliant on the slave trade and changing it into something much more stable.
Slavery had played a large part in limiting Rome's economic potential, something he had no interest in repeating.
It would take at most a decade before the restructuring and assimilation was completed. Aside from a minority of zealous citizens, most free city inhabitants hardly felt all that attached to their culture and religion.
The closest thing that came to uniting them in a shared sense, was their heritage as Valyrians, but that was very faint. The lack of a powerful figurehead keeps it from becoming a reality.
Even more so now that the Mudds were in charge.
Not a surprise, considering the majority of them were slaves and therefore gained very little from it.
Taking advantage of that fact, Erlend began the process of indoctrinating them. Building their loyalty and belonging to the Crown and House Mudd.
Nationality wasn't an actual thing at the moment, and placing the building blocks for it seemed to be quite appropriate.
Essentially whatever culture and nationality that ends up forming within his empire, it would guarantee that House Mudd would become one of its pillars.
Just like how people instinctively associate the United Kingdom with the Royal Family.
Like the good father he was, the Conqueror decided to make things easier for his son in the future, by shattering one of the undisputed powerhouses of this world and flipping the world order over its head.
Ensuring that by the time Edmund's time came, his enemies would be too divided to put up a fight.
Hell, if you squint hard then Erlend and his descendants could be considered the proper inheritors of Valyria's legacy. He had valyrian blood in him, his son and heir was to be wed to the last true dragonlord bloodline, and the main stumbling block to that vision had conveniently been swallowed by a tsunami.
Those deceased Valyrians should be cheering them on from down below.
Sure House Mudd was currently a mixture of Valyrian, First Men, and Andal heritage, their system of governance completely different and their appearance in his own humble opinion far better.
But, it was the intent that counted!
Giving himself a figurative pat on the back for his superb reasoning, Erlend ignored the utter hypocrisy he was spouting mentally, anyways the best hypocrite was the one that came out on top.
Just ask the allies in World War One.
Patting his child on the back, "Come on Velskud, pick up the pace. We have a few arrogant peacocks waiting to be burned." Erlend encouraged the dragon.
Letting out a roar of excitement, the shadowed menace sped up, occasionally spewing magma that hurtled to the ground below them.
Creating what could only be described as rock-sized meteorites in the process.
Letting out an innocent whistle, Erlend averted his gaze.
He was sure those that were below them would be alright. After all, murder and genocide awaited no one.
…
(Edmund Mudd, Firmridge)
The crown prince didn't know why, but he felt both grateful and annoyed at his father.
The King wasn't even present, but Edmund suspected he was up to no good. As his son, the young prince was more than confident in his ability to predict his old man and only time would tell if he was right or not.
Thankfully, the two Paramount's had finally left the Stronghold. Lord Stark to prepare the North for the coming disaster, and Lord Lannister to search for any more Dragonglass mines.
Not that the man knew he was looking for Dragonglass mines.
It baffled him why his father was deliberately keeping the ore's true power a mystery, and why the dwarven lord hadn't connected the dots and realized that the increase in Dragonglass mining these past few decades had a lot to do with the crisis.
The Crown hadn't hidden the fact that every Bannermen was to be equipped with a Dragonglass dagger. With most assuming that it was a ceremonial thing, rather than looking into it deeper.
Of course, this excluded seasoned veterans like Olenna and Doran, who investigated everything and anything the Crown did. Their thoroughness would be admirable if not for the fact that they kept using it in the worst ways possible.
He was beginning to suspect the reason his father never revealed the truth to Lord Tyrion was simply so he didn't have to pay exorbitant amounts of gold for the dragonglass.
Should the dwarf get lucky and find his deposits of Dragonglass, there was no doubt in Edmund's mind that he would use it to make a profit over the desperate Houses, especially those in the North who would receive the brunt of attack should the Wall fail to halt them.
Edmund momentarily gazed at his betrothed and best friend. She was currently skimming through the reports next to him, and helping him deal with the day-to-day running of the Realm.
Mother had been encouraging Rhaenys and him to spend more time together so that the two would get used to ruling together.
Already she had done well in presiding over the most recent Realmscouncil on father's behalf with Edmund serving as a silent observer. Lord Yohn and Gruncle Lorimas sing praises for her wisdom and intelligence.
This reassured Edmund who had no desire for a glass vase. He had ambitions, one that would see Essos kneeling beneath House Mudd.
So it reassured him that he could rely on Rhaenys to keep the Realm stable in his absence.
Having been surrounded by powerful women nearly his whole life, the crown prince had long since understood the importance of having a reliable and trustworthy partner, who could shoulder his burden and stand beside him through thick and thin.
Something he could only see in his best friend.
Sensing his gaze, Rhaenys raised her eyebrows in question, only to receive a bemused smirk in response.
Pouting at his silence, she moved and placed down her quill, ready to pinch his waist. Edmund was no fool, as soon as he realized her intent he ducked his head and stared down at the parchment in front of him.
Snorting at his cowardice, the dusky princess returned to her work, though she kept a vigilant eye on her partner, daring him to do something stupid.
The Crown Prince didn't need to look up to see the disgust in the eyes of Dany and Saera who were casually lying on the couch. Dany was holding a tome that went into great detail about the Great Bastards of the Unworthy.
He'd already gone through it before, so he wasn't all interested in it.
While Saera was trying to burn her own assigned tome with her eyes. The fierce dragonwolf despised studying more than anyone their age. Unfortunately for her, Aunt Lyanna was having none of that and was forcing her to study.
It looked into the wars between the ancient Ghis and Valyria, if his suspicions were correct, Aunt Lyanna wanted Saera to understand the art of war.
Edmund didn't mind, he knew that his most fierce foster sister was in no way shape, or form going to become a prim and proper lady.
He felt that none of the girls would turn into such a thing. They were far too wild and stubborn to do so.
Be it Daenerys with her inherent frigidness, Rhaenys with her pride, Saera with her ferocity, and Myrcella with her aloof personality. None of them could be described as ladies whatsoever.
As if sensing his thoughts, all three girls simultaneously glared at the young prince who looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
'Shit. How the hell do they keep doing that?'
…
Westeros and its dominions, as his father liked to call their Essosi territories, were in turmoil.
Well, that wasn't accurate, there were no rebellions or protests or any of that sort, rather everyone was taken aback and panicking over the news conveyed from the East. To put it mildly, his father had decided that simply killing the Imperial Family of Yi Ti wasn't enough.
Yin, the eastern Capital had been razed to the ground. The Azure Dynasty went down with it, although its common inhabitants were allowed to leave by his father, the bureaucracy and aristocracy had to give their lives in return. There was no mercy to be had for anyone even remotely connected to the bounty.
Those sorcerers who had suggested the bounty in the first place were either fed to Velskud or turned into marbles by his father so that Aunt Malora could uncover any secrets they might've taken to the grave with them.
Edmund could say many things to excuse his father's actions, but he didn't. The necessity of these actions wasn't lost on him.
This was the most glaring warning ever sent by the Crown to its enemies, they would show no mercy to them. Regardless of their standing, prestige, or power.
If there was one thing the last Azure Emperor could take solace in, then it was the fact that his killer had also decided to deal with the Sorcerer lord, who claimed descent from the Mudd's ancient enemies, the Yellow Dynasty.
Ending a relationship that had haunted House Mudd since its exile from the Eastern Empire thousands of years ago.
There would be responses from everyone else once this spread to all corners of the world, that Edmund was sure of. He was also aware that this was the exact response his father was looking for when he committed to shattering Yi Ti.
Even if Pol Qo, the self-proclaimed Orange Emperor tried to build from the ashes, he would find great resistance since he hadn't come out victorious against his rivals or done anything to earn it.
Therefore, there was no way he could claim to have received the mandate from heaven and its approval. The situation was clear, even if Pol Qo was successful in uniting Yi Ti under him, his rule would be shaky and filled with turmoil.
Once the Realm was sufficiently stable and ripe for expansion, then Edmund would be a wolf among sheep.
He should ask his father for a way to recreate Hippogriffs on a mass scale, a squadron of aerial riders and fearsome mounts was not something any normal Kingdom or Empire could muster against.
He should try to recreate that in the future since he would have full authority over these Hippogriffs.
His animagus form breed was of higher standing. At least compared to the descriptions his father had provided about normal Hippogriffs.
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Note: This is a nod towards the background I created for the Mudds, while also leaving room for Edmund's Conquests in the future. If Braavos and the Gulltown Arryns were a warning to internal enemies, then Yi Ti was a warning to external threats, a 'can you afford to piss me off' approach so to speak. Also, since the cat is out of the bag, there's no need to hide the children's magic and stifle their growth, at least that's the reasoning I'm going with. Cheers!