King Baelon Volcarys
From his seat near the window, Baelon could hear the sound of the merchants selling their goods, of children running about the streets playing their games, and of the women gossiping away. For a moment it was almost as if he was back in Westeros before the wars had come, and before he had left for good with a woman who was young enough to be his granddaughter. But then the reality came back to him, not entirely unpleasant, but large parts of it were. He was in Volantis, in what the people of the empire called the Black Palace- for its black walls and the dragon emblems everywhere- not in Westeros, and though it was winter, it was a warmer winter than anything he had ever truly experienced.
Baelon Volcarys, King of Valyria- the ever expanding empire he had created with fire and steel- was sat on a seat in his and his wife- Queen Nettles- rooms, overlooking the city he had conquered first. His mind as it so often did as of late was wandering, this time to Pentos and the recent conquest of the city. That city was a wealthy one, and conquering it would add much needed gold and wealth to the empire, that had been Baelon's reasoning at the time. The fact that the fools had tried to invade Westeros was just another added reason for conquering the city, for though Baelon no longer lived in Westeros, he would always be a Westerosi at heart.
And so he had drawn up plans with his council, and when Valarr had written to inform him of troops and Prince Matarys and Lady Rhaenys coming to help, they had been factored in and so the attack had begun. The Pentoshi ships had been burnt at anchor, not by Cannibal or Mutthiah's flames but by the torches thrown by his men on the Volanteene, and Lyseni war galleys. Taking the city had been easy enough. What men had been left to defend the place were either old men or green boys, there was slaughter in the streets as the armies of Valyria swept in and took the city. The Prince of Pentos, a balding fat man, had tried to plead for his life, but Baelon had learnt never to accept the pleas of an enemy, and so the man had been fed to Cannibal.
The so called Pirate King had come from the Stepstones then, attempting to aid Pentos for it was rumoured that the man was Pentoshi, but Aenar and Matarys and Rhaenys and the Westerosi men Valarr had sent, put paid to the man and his men. A massacre on the seas, all seemed well, the last of the Pentoshi nobles were rounded up and they either bent the knee or died a death by dragonfire. Baelon as he had done with all the other cities that had been taken by force decided to stay for a few moons in Pentos to make sure that the man he appointed as ruler in his name, one Morghul Mopatis, was secure before he left. Surprisingly Prince Matarys decided to stay as well, it seemed as if the boy did not wish to return home yet, when Baelon had asked him why, the prince had shrugged and said. "There are things that I wish to learn, that only you could teach me Your Grace." What these things were, Baelon had no idea and yet he let the boy remain.
He had proved invaluable when the resistance movement began happening. Men who bore the royal emblem of Valyria turned up dead in the streets in the mornings, and soon enough it seemed as if the old nobility of Pentos were fighting back. Baelon was no longer a young man, and trying to find out where these fools were hiding out was proving to be quite a strain on his health, and so he gave the task of actually dealing with the rebels to his son and Prince Matarys. They did well, managing to find the base of the rebels, and burning them out with dragonfire, where peaceful means would not work. The leader of the movement one Morqoro Baltizar, fled to the high passes of Andalos, and potentially out of their reach for good. Only for Matarys to find the man and bring him back in chains, where he was torn apart by the four dragons present, the Cannibal, Crimson Fury, Meleys the Red Queen and Mutthiah.
For a time it seemed as if peace would return to Pentos and Baelon would be able to return back home, only for the resistance movement to pick up again this time led by someone only known as the mage. Deaths continued to occur, and one Ser Olyvar Frey of the Kingsguard died protecting Matarys from an attempted assassination, until eventually they found where this mage was camped, and Baelon being too old, and Aenar too young, Matarys Targaryen killed the man in single combat. After that peace returned and Mopatis; reign as the Lord of Pentos under the Volcarys Empire was secured, Baelon bid him farewell and along with his son Aenar and the remaining 10,000 men from the various Valyrian outposts returned home.
It had been a year since then, and in that time Baelon had felt his body weaken, he was no longer a young man, nor was he all that capable of leading his men into battle, something that would still be needed, considering that the slaver cities, Bravos and Lorath still held out against the might of Valyria. No he had turned eighty one some moons ago, and his bones continued to remind him of that fact, straining and back aches like nothing he had ever felt before. Only his wife's soothing hands were enough to relieve the pain, but he could always afford to ask her to aid him, for he was king still and he did not wish to appear weak. Nettles, her fire had been tempered with age, as he knew it would be. She was still beautiful to him though, and though there were many years between them, their conversations were still so filled with life, if anything the years had made them more so. They could converse on any topic for a lengthy period of time, and argue and discuss, things Baelon had never had with his first wife. He was proud of his sons as well, Aenar would make a fine king when his time came, Daegon and Gaemon fine administrators and warriors, and Rhaenys the perfect queen.
Still Baelon is not a man to deny the truth, he knows that soon enough he will not be on this world, and as such he must make the appropriate plans for when that day arises, which is why he has summoned his wife and his sons and daughter as well as Ser Dorros Rivers, the man who make sure everything happens as it is supposed to once he dies. They all look so very worried when he stands on strong legs- still strong despite the weakness of his body- and moves his chair round to face them. Nettles comes and stands by his side then, her hand resting on his shoulder, Aenar looks grim and solemn- the boy will need to brighten up if he is to rule better than Baelon has- and Gaemon and Daegon simply seemed lost young as they are. Rhaenys, the daughter who is not his daughter, but is in all the ways that matter, she is strongest of them all, she will see what he wants done carried out. Baelon takes a sip of water and then speaks. "You know why you all are here. The empire is not yet complete. In the days of old, before the Doom, Valyria stretched from the islands near the smoking sea and covered most of Essos, we hold places that were never part of the Freehold in the lands beyond the Shadow, but still Bravos, Lorath and the slaver cities remain untouched by our glory." He takes another sip of water then, swallows and then speaks once more. "That must change. I am too old to lead the charge myself, my body will not hold for a campaign that long. Aenar it must be you who leads the armies when the Slaver cities fall. You shall rule as king when I am gone, and it is time that the people of Valyria saw you for what you are. Nettles my love, you must hold court whilst Aenar is away, for Rhaenys and Daegon shall go with him."
"What of me father?" Gaemon asks, the boy squires for Ser Dorros and yet Baelon knows he cannot allow the man to leave not now.
Baelon takes another sip of water and then says. "You shall remain here. Ser Dorros will be seeing to the defence of the city should the Lorathi or the Bravosi seek to engage in combat. You must stay here and learn from him."
If any of them have any objections to what he has said so far, they have not voiced them and for that Baelon is grateful. When his son speaks, his voice is measured and calm, and for that Baelon is grateful as well. "When do you suggest we set sail for the slaver cities father? It has been a year since Pentos, Lys, Tyrosh and Myr have replenished their armies as per your instructions, and Mopatis wrote that he has his men ready for fighting. But there is a great Dothraki horde led by Khal Rojo heading towards the city, it is said his Khalasar numbers some 40,000 and the slaver cities and Mantarys have all paid tribute to him."
Baelon takes another sip of water, and then looks at his son and says. "Let this khal come to our gates. If he wishes to pass by, then let him pass. But if he thinks to gain tribute, then we shall give him fire and blood. We are the dragons, and the dragon bows to no man, be he noble or savage."
"Is that wise father?" Aenar asks. "It is said that this Khal has never lost a fight, nor has he ever been refused tribute from a city. It is said the last place that refused him tribute was put to the torch and burnt so badly it was never rebuilt again."
Baelon smiles slightly then and goes. "What was the name of this place Aenar?"
His son falters slightly. "Lhazar father."
Baelon smiles. "Exactly, a village of lamb people. Pacifists. We are the heirs of Valyria, we shall not go meekly. No Ser Dorros, make sure that when this Khal comes to our gates that our finery is displayed, and make sure the dragons are ready for an attack should it come to it."
"Yes Your Grace." The ever loyal Ser Dorros says.
"Will you be meeting with him father?" Rhaenys asks then, perceptive as always.
Baelon smile widens then, and he looks at his daughter. "Yes though, I shall not be the only one present. You and Aenar shall be present, as shall our dragons. Let this Khal see our might."
They nod, and then the discussion turns to how to invade the slaver cities. Ser Dorros speaks then. "We know that the fleets of Yunkai and Astapor were torched during their invasion of Westeros. We also know that the Astapori have not yet had a chance to raise a new batch of Unsullied, so their city is relatively undefended."
"What of Meeren?" Baelon asks.
"Their army is in ruins Your Grace. They are a city divided. The blood of the harpy is divided within itself. They have no leader, and the commons are looking for someone to overthrow the current system, someone with enough force and strength of mind to implement lasting change." Ser Dorros replies.
"Perfect," Baelon replies. "Aenar, you shall go with 4,000 men to take Meereen. The chaos there shall be perfect for us to come in and remove the harpy from power, and fill the void left behind."
"What of us father?" Rhaenys asked.
Baelon looked at his daughter and said. "You and Daegon shall go with the forces led by Moroqo and take Astapor. Mopatis shall lead men to take Yunkai."
"What of Mantarys Your Grace?" Nettles asked.
"Mantarys, is there not an envoy coming to court from Mantarys?" Baelon asked Ser Dorros.
"There was to be Your Grace," Ser Dorros says hesitantly. "But the Dothraki captured him, and now hold him ransom."
Baelon feels anger boil up in him, though his voice remains calm when he speaks. "Very well, make sure that when we greet the Khal, that our dragons are present, this savage shall know what it means to meet a dragon."
Three days later Khal Rojo and his Khalasar of 40,000 dothraki were outside the gates of Volantis and when they came to the throne room of the Black Palace where Baelon was sat on the throne of bones, he was pleased to see only Khal Rojo and his sub-commanders Pono and Rodo. Khal Rojo is a tall and muscular man, with a mope of black hair and dark brown eyes. He stands with his arakh on his back, and his two henchmen flank his left and right. Baelon greets them, seated on the throne, the men of his guard standing at the base of the throne and nearby. Aenar and Rhaenys sit close by and Nettles sits next to him. Once the greetings have been exchanged Baelon speaks. "Khal Rojo welcome to Volantis, capital of Valyria. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Manuel Balbar translates into Dothraki, and then Rojo speaks back.
"Khal Rojo says he has come for tribute, in order for his Khalasar to move west." Balbar says nervously.
Baelon smiles then and says. "And what tribute does he wish for?"
After a brief moment, Balbar says. "He wishes for gold and for slaves, and for eggs, dragon eggs. For he says they will fetch a hefty price on the market and will pay for food and drink for his people."
Baelon feels the anger stir inside of him, the impudence, the Cannibal unleashes a jet of smoke in the distance, Baelon had decided at the last minute not to have the dragons in the hall, better for what must come next. "And why should I, the King of Valyria pay tribute to him? What has he done for me that deserve rewarding?"
When Balbar speaks next, Baelon can hear the nervousness in his voice and the angry words that he has to speak. "Khal Rojo says, that the Dothraki bow to no King, and that Your Grace should be happy that they did not sack the city where it stood. He says that should you not give them the tribute they have demanded not only will they sack the city they shall sack all the other cities belonging to you."
Baelon smiles then, and in a calm voice says. "Very well, tell Khal Rojo to leave, and to do his worst if he will. He will find no tribute here nor in any of the other cities that belong to the empire."
Once the Khal and his men have gone and left the confines of Guest Right, Baelon turns to Ser Dorros and says. "See to it that they never make it outside of Volon Therys." Once the man has bowed and left, Baelon turns to Nettles and brings Aenar and Rhaenys up to the throne where he whispers. "Go now to the dragon pit, free your dragons, and when you hear the roar of the Cannibal, kill the dothraki. They do not have the means to end the dragons, the men shall be waiting."
They bow and leave, Baelon remains seated on his throne for sometime afterwards, and when the sounds of battle reach him, and he hears the Cannibal roar, and the screams of the dying, he smiles slightly. Later on, when the deed is done, and those Dothraki that are not dead have fled back to Vaes Dothrak, Baelon summons Aenar and Rhaenys and Ser Dorros and tells them. "Send the ravens out tonight. You shall be setting sail in two weeks time."
Those two weeks pass by in a whirl, and soon enough Baelon says goodbye to his two sons and his daughter from his bed in the great keep of Black Castle, his legs having finally given way. "Do me proud children, bring them to their knees and all shall be yours." He kisses them on their foreheads and closes his eyes as they depart. He gets worse as the moons go on, his legs were the first to lose the battle with old age, and soon enough, his arms slowly lose all feeling, followed by his feet, until he is told in no uncertain terms that he is to remain bedridden.
The day Nettles comes to inform him of the fall of Yunkai, is the day the fever truly hits him, leaving him with hot flushes and cold freezes alike. Sometimes Baelon is unsure of where he is, is he in Volantis or in Westeros in Dragonstone scaling Dragonmont and finding the Cannibal? The day Nettles comes to tell him that Astapor has fallen and that the leaders of the city were all burnt or killed is the day he dreams of the oldest known dragons, 3,000 year old goliaths living in the Shadow lands, the colours of the rainbow. Then the day his children come home is the day he learns that Meereen has been added to the Valyrian Empire, and that now all that remain are Bravos and Lorath.
When his children and his wife are gathered around his bed, for the first time since he was a little boy, Baelon feels peaceful. His last words are not reminders to serve well, for he knows his children will, he does mourn past regrets, he never has done. Instead he brings them together and whispers one last thing, one last piece to serve to his legacy. "Valarr Morghulis. I am the King, but now the throne has passed to you Aenar. I love you."
On the fifth day of the third moon of the 153 rd year after Aegon's Landing, King Baelon Volcarys, the first of his name, ruler of Valyria dies at the age of eighty three, the first person in over three hundred years to reinstate Valyria.