Sharper than Swords
Twenty-Fifth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
Six champions stand before you this evening upon the sands, they had fought and bled, showing skill endurance both. Five of them were born to the Seven Kingdoms, though they could not have been more different from each other, a sixth not born but made to be the puppet of dark powers but transcending his fate through will and hard-earned wisdom. None here save perhaps Ser Criston Storm precisely fit what you had vaguely envisaged as the winners of these tests of skill, wandering blades and younger sons seeking titles of nobility. Certainly Valaena and Asha have no need of new arms and armor nor does Scarbrand need a dagger save as a trophy to mark his deeds.
Having spoken to Dany about Sandor after returning to the keep you discover, perhaps unsurprisingly, that she had a hand in ensuring that the Viper kept his banter friendly during the spar by explaining as much as you had guessed of his story. 'I don't think we should just treat him like a sellsword, like say Bronn, working for his keep. He needs to belong somewhere, to have some task beyond killing as he is bid'.
From there one idea had flowed into another, suggestions made and passed aside until your sister happened upon the most fortuitous. Sandor is used to seeing cruelty and authority paired as one. Likely as not he will read those things together from sheer instinct for a while longer, unless of course one were to present him with a charge so unusual that he would
have to address it with his eyes wide open.
"Sandor of House Clegane," Dany interjects into your award speech at the pre-determined moment. "Having accepted not only arms and armor but service to House Targaryen, I would now make a request of you if you would hear it."
For his part the warrior looks confused, but not disgruntled. There might even be a smile pulling ever so slightly at his newly unscarred face.
"I would ask you serve as my sworn sword, until such a time that peace should reign and you may have your just reward as a leal bannerman." The words carried across Essos by enchanted mirrors might as well have been: 'until Tywin Lannister's head can serve as a drinking cup' for all most would read into them. The House that Tytos Lannister had raised up to account for a moment of weakness and that Tywin made a weapon is now at war with itself, with one son having taken up arms against Casterly Rock besides their mortal foes. It really is quite a pity you cannot scry the Butcher in his lair. His face when he hears the news will be a wonder to behold.
"I accept, your Highness," Sandor rumbles, using a title for the first time since you have laid eyes on him. He sounds surprised, though certainly no more so than the crowd, his House's history having long since been turned over by the city's rumor mill. Such an uncommon degree of trust given to a man who had personally served both Tywin Lannister and his daughter would have quite a few Westerosi lords who might have counted themselves too far into bed with the Lannisters to ponder their options anew.
Again old King Jaehaerys words about the worth of kindness prove true.
By contrast to the Hound's rather unusual reputation the other winner of the melee is at once well known to the people of Sorcerer's Deep and hidden by a glamour. Valaena Velaryon had come very far from the girl who dreamed of wedding bells, a dragonrider, a warrior of note and skill who had slain not only men but things more terrible by far, bearing armor of enchanted silver and a chain forged in Hell, her greater worries are not the battles to come, but rather what her parents will think of the path she had chosen. By her own admission Monford knows some of her deeds, his lady wife likely none, and from your mother's recollections of her time as a Lady-in-Waiting you suspect Valaena's fears are not unfounded.
Yet the plan Valaena had happened upon, to offer some arcane trinket, some simple gift to bridge the gap of understanding, will not serve her as Tyene had been quick to point out when presented with the notion. To address the anger Valaena wishes to forestall one must look to the fer behind it built upon the brick and mortar of dynastic politics, one must either inherit land and position or marry into it, with the first being common for men and the second for women. To deny that Elysa Velaryon nee Celtigar would see as madness, unless of course one were to take another simpler approach, one you had been intending to offer to the winner of the melee from the start though with Valaena you can afford to be much more generous than with most given all the times she has rewarded your trust in full.
What lands did you decide to grant Valaena?
[] Offer her existing lands publicly
-[] The Southern Disputed Lands
--[] County
--[] Barony
-[] Golden Fields
--[] Duchy and County
--[] Only County
[] The Province of Draconys
--[] County
--[] Barony
[] Privately promise her lands in Westeros
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: I know I said Valaena does not want land, and indeed at this point administering lands is far from the top of her priority list, but then I realized that actually being handed lands would help smooth over things with her mother far more than any ordinary gift could, because when you come right down to it that outrage she wants to avoid stems from fear that she would not fit anywhere in Elysa's view of the world. Being handed lands would go a long way to mitigate things.
