The Small Council chamber had not changed.
The same long table dominated the room, the same high windows overlooked King's Landing.
The same polished chairs waited around dark wood scarred by generations of rings, knives, spilled wine, and impatient fingers.
Kings had died, hands had risen and fallen, dynasties had nearly collapsed, yet the room remained the same.
Damon Targaryen found that amusing.
He stood beside one of the windows, watching King's Landing awaken beneath the morning sun.
Far below, the city was waking, thousands of people, with their own problems... his subjects.
Strangely enough, Caraxes was nowhere to be seen; that alone had made the morning unusually peaceful.
Dreamfyre remained beyond the city in the Kingswood, where she seemed happiest. Damon suspected the she-dragon disliked the noise and maybe the smell of Kingslanding.
Caraxes, however, seemed to enjoy attention, the screams and looks of awe the people made when he flew overhead.
Damon knew this situation couldn't continue forever; his dragons would need someplace to stay. The dragon pit would have to be rebuilt, but modified.
The doors of the room opened, and Tywin Lannister entered.
Damon smiled.
The Lord of Casterly Rock wore crimson and gold. His expression remained as unreadable as ever, but his green eyes immediately moved across the chamber.
From the table to the chairs.
Damon noticed everything.
"Your Grace."
Tywin bowed.
"Lord Tywin."
Tywin approached the table.
He stopped.
There was no designated seat for the Hand; where he sat would say a lot.
He selected the chair to the right of the head of the table, positioning himself to the right of the seat he knew Damon would sit, symbolically showing that he was Damon's right hand.
Damon watched Tywin's little saga and smiled; no one would sit at the head of the table unless they were foolish, and none of the people who would come into this room today were anything but foolish.
The doors opened again.
Varys entered.
"Your grace."
"Varys."
The eunuch looked toward Tywin.
"My lord."
"Varys."
Neither smiled.
Damon watched the exchange with amusement.
Lion and spider. Neither trusted the other.
Varys looked at the seats and quickly made his way to the right side of the table, taking a seat, leaving an empty seat between him and Tywin.
The doors opened a third time.
Lady Olenna Tyrell entered; she carried several parchments beneath one arm.
Her sharp eyes moved around the chamber.
Then toward the table, then Tywin.
A smile appeared.
"Oh."
Tywin's expression remained unchanged.
Olenna approached.
"I wasn't informed the meeting had begun."
"It hasn't."
Damon answered.
"Wonderful."
She looked toward Tywin.
"I feared I'd already missed Lord Tywin explaining why every problem in Westeros can be solved with gold or hanging someone."
Varys lowered his head.
Damon suspected he was hiding a smile.
Tywin stared at Olenna.
"Lady Olenna."
"Lord Tywin."
Silence.
Olenna sat directly opposite him, positioning herself as his direct opposite, Damon's left hand.
Damon finally moved from the window.
He approached the head of the table.
Three people watched him. The most powerful administrator in Westeros, the greatest spymaster in the realm, and one of the sharpest political minds alive.
And all three were dangerous in their own right.
Damon sat.
"Welcome."
Olenna looked around.
"Rather empty."
"The council is incomplete."
"I noticed."
Her eyes moved toward the empty chairs.
"Master of Coin?"
"Undecided."
"Master of Ships?"
"Undecided."
"Grand Maester?"
"Pycelle remains until I decide otherwise."
Tywin's expression shifted slightly.
Barely.
Damon noticed.
Of course Tywin preferred Pycelle.
Pycelle had spent years worshipping the ground beneath Casterly Rock.
"Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?"
"Ser Barristan."
That earned a reaction.
Tywin leaned forward slightly.
"Barristan Selmy, if I remember correctly, seemed very fond and devoted to your late brother; he even fought for him at the Trident."
"He fought for the Crown."
Damon corrected calmly.
"He fought against Robert Baratheon while serving Rhaegar."
Tywin said nothing.
Damon continued.
"If I begin executing every competent man who once stood on the wrong battlefield..."
"I'll soon rule a kingdom of idiots."
Olenna smiled.
"Finally."
She looked toward Tywin.
"A royal policy I can support."
Tywin ignored her.
Damon folded his hands. "Barristan Selmy hasn't returned to Kingslanding as yet; I've already sent people to bring him back."
Damon folded his hands.
"We have four matters to discuss today."
The room quieted.
"The rebuilding of the Dragonpit, the punishment of the rebels, the creation of the crown's standing army, and the Iron Islands."
Tywin's eyes sharpened. Olenna stopped smiling, and Varys became perfectly still.
Damon leaned back.
"Let's begin."
"The Dragonpit should be rebuilt."
Tywin spoke first.
Damon looked toward him.
"Why?" Of course he agreed, but he still wanted to know Tywin's reason.
Tywin seemed almost surprised by the question.
"You possess dragons."
"I noticed."
Olenna smiled.
Tywin continued.
"They require protection."
"No."
Damon answered immediately.
"They require space."
Tywin frowned.
"The Dragonpit was constructed to house the dragons of House Targaryen."
"And it weakened them."
Silence.
Damon looked toward Varys.
"How many reports have you received concerning Caraxes?"
Varys smiled faintly.
"Complaints?"
"Reports."
"Thirty-seven."
Olenna raised an eyebrow.
"Only thirty-seven?"
"Many citizens have decided complaining about a dragon is unlikely to improve their circumstances; the reports mainly are about Caraxes' flights causing fear in livestock and other minor problems. So far there have been no deaths of either livestock or people. "
Damon nodded.
"And Dreamfyre?"
"Three."
Damon continued.
"Caraxes flies regularly and hunts in the Kingswood. "
"Dreamfyre disappears into the Kingswood for days."
"They behave naturally."
Tywin's fingers rested against the table.
"And if they attack livestock?"
"The Crown will pay; after the matter is checked and verified, we will not allow anyone to take advantage of the Crown."
"And if they attack people?"
"Then someone has done something remarkably stupid."
Olenna laughed, choosing not to offer any input on the subject.
Tywin did not.
"The Dragonpit remains strategically valuable."
Damon nodded.
"Yes."
Tywin paused.
Olenna leaned forward.
"Oh, good."
She smiled.
"For a moment, I feared the two of you might spend the entire morning disagreeing; the result is clear. The dragonpit needs to be rebuilt for many reasons, two of those reasons being, one, you needed your dragons closer than they currently are, and a place to raise young dragons should they lay eggs; the second being the Dragonpit is a symbol of House Targaryen's strength, leaving it to crumble when the Targaryens didn't have dragons it was fine but now, it is no longer acceptable."
Damon looked at her and smiled.
"I agree with Lady Olenna, the Dragonpit will be rebuilt."
Tywin's expression remained unchanged, as Varys remained silent.
"However..."
There it was.
Olenna smiled.
Tywin waited.
"It will not be a prison."
Damon stood.
He approached a map of King's Landing resting upon a nearby table.
The others followed with their eyes.
"The old Dragonpit was enclosed, chains, stone chambers and limited exits."
He pointed toward Rhaenys's Hill.
"I want the hill excavated."
Tywin frowned.
"Excavated?"
"Expanded."
Damon traced a large circle around the hill.
"Bigger chambers with multiple tunnels; the chambers will not have the large doors as before, letting the dragon walk out of their chambers into the open pit and take to the sky any time they want."
"Feeding grounds outside the walls to raise livestock with the sole purpose of feeding the dragons."
Olenna slowly nodded.
"A sanctuary."
Damon looked toward her.
"Exactly."
Varys folded his hands.
"And the cost?"
Everyone looked toward him.
Damon smiled.
"We have some very rich Lords in Kingslanding about to receive punishment for their actions in the rebellion; they would be happy to help the Crown."
"While repairing and improving the Dragonpit, I will begin the work to restore the order of Dragonkeepers, an improved order; its members will be selected from Dragonstone. No Dragon shall be chained again."
Damon moved and sat back in his seat. " Moving on, the Rebels."
Tywin placed a parchment upon the table.
"The rebel houses must pay."
Damon looked down.
"Obviously."
"The Stormlands should suffer the heaviest punishment."
"Why?"
"Robert Baratheon led the rebellion."
"Jon Arryn raised his banners first."
Tywin paused.
Olenna smiled faintly.
"The North marched because Aerys murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark."
Varys added quietly.
"The Riverlands joined through marriage and necessity."
Tywin looked toward the eunuch.
"Treason remains treason."
"It does."
Damon answered.
"But punishment without thought creates future rebellions."
Tywin leaned back.
"And excessive mercy invites them."
"Correct."
Silence.
Olenna looked between them.
"How wonderful."
She sighed.
"The lion and dragon agree while sounding like they're arguing."
Damon ignored her.
He looked toward Tywin's parchment.
"Your proposal."
Tywin began.
"House Baratheon loses a third of its treasury."
"Accepted."
"A portion of its lands."
"Rejected."
Tywin frowned.
"Why?"
"Because, along with House Baratheon's treasury, the tax in the Stormlands will increase five percent for five years, and Robbert will be sentenced to death, and the new Lord Baratheon will be Renly, who will be summoned and raised in Kingslanding."
The three looked at Damon, each managing to keep their expression steady.
Olenna nodded.
"Sensible."
"House Arryn."
Tywin continued.
"A third of the Vale's treasury."
"Half."
Everyone looked toward Damon.
Varys spoke.
"Half?"
"Jon Arryn started the rebellion."
Damon answered.
"Robert became its sword."
"Jon was its mind."
"The Vale pays half, and Jon Arryn is also sentenced to death. Since he has no heirs, the crown will select a new lord of the Vale at a later date. The Vale will also see a 10, th% tax increase for 8 years."
Tywin nodded slowly.
"The North?"
"A third."
Tywin's eyebrows rose.
"Only?"
"The North is enormous."
Damon answered. "And poor, to the point Varys had mentioned earlier, the North marched because of the deaths of their Lord and his son, though not an excuse the Crown will be merciful and spare Lord Stark, but the North will see a 5% increase in tax for five years."
Varys watched Damon carefully.
"The Riverlands?"
"A quarter."
Damon continued.
"The same tax increase as the North.
"The gold will go to the Crown's treasury, and then be allocated to the different projects the Small Council will decide at a later date."
"The next topic, I intend to create a standing army."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Tywin slowly turned toward Damon.
Olenna stopped drinking.
Even Varys appeared apprehensive.
Tywin spoke first.
"How large?"
"Initially?"
Damon leaned back.
"Twenty thousand."
Olenna nearly choked.
"Initially?"
"Yes."
Tywin's face had become completely serious.
"Twenty thousand soldiers permanently under Crown command."
"Correct."
"Paid for by the Crown."
"Correct."
"Trained year-round."
"Correct."
Olenna placed her cup down.
"You truly dislike tradition."
"Tradition gave me levies who spend half their lives farming and the other half learning which end of a spear faces the enemy."
Tywin's expression remained serious.
"The cost would be considerable."
"It would."
Damon agreed.
"And the lords will object."
"I know."
"They'll see it as weakening their authority."
"It does."
Silence.
Damon did not hide it.
Olenna studied him.
"You're centralizing power."
"Yes."
Again. No denial.
No elaborate justification.
Simply yes.
"The Iron Throne currently depends upon great houses to enforce its will."
Damon continued.
"If the king wants war..."
"He calls banners."
"If the banners refuse..."
"The king discovers how powerful or powerless he truly is."
His violet eyes moved around the table.
"My father discovered the answer."
Nobody spoke.
"I will not."
Tywin's fingers tapped once against the table.
"Where will you recruit?"
"Everywhere."
"The Crownlands first. I don't expect twenty thousand soldiers in one year or even three, but at least within five years the Crown will have a twenty thousand-strong standing army; they may even continue to grow over time.
Tywin's gaze sharpened.
Dangerous.
The word entered his mind immediately.
A royal army, well trained and loyal to the Crown.
Tywin understood exactly what Damon was trying to build, and so did Vary and Olenna.
An Iron Throne that needed the great houses less and less.
For the first time during the meeting... They all felt uncomfortable.
Finally, they moved to the final topic for the meeting: the Iron Islands.
Varys placed a small parchment upon the table.
The mood changed.
"Lord Quellon Greyjoy is losing control."
Tywin looked toward him.
" Is it Balon?"
"Yes, he is gathering supporters."
Olenna sighed.
"Of course."
Damon remained silent.
Tywin looked toward him.
"What do you intend?"
"Nothing."
Three people stared at him.
Olenna blinked.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Varys tilted his head.
"Your words last we spoke of this topic suggested otherwise."
"They suggested I have plans."
Damon answered.
"Plans require opportunities."
He picked up the parchment.
"Balon is gathering support."
"Good."
Tywin's eyes narrowed.
"Good?"
"Let him."
Damon placed the parchment down.
"Let every captain who believes in the Old Way gather beside him."
"Let every lord who dreams of reaving reveal himself."
"Let every ship choose."
Olenna understood first.
Her expression changed.
"Oh."
Varys smiled.
Tywin remained silent.
Damon continued.
"If I intervene now..."
"They hide."
"They lie."
"They swear loyalty."
"And in a couple years they do this again."
He leaned back.
"But if Balon raises his banners..."
"Every problem identifies itself."
Tywin finally spoke.
"You're using him."
"Yes."
"To purge the Iron Islands."
Damon smiled.
"I prefer the term restructure."
Olenna stared.
"That just sounds like a prettier word for purge."
"That's why I chose it."
Varys chuckled softly.
Tywin did not.
"What happens to Quellon?"
Damon's expression became thoughtful.
"If he survives... "
"He remains useful."
"And if he dies?"
Damon looked toward the map.
"Then Balon saves me the trouble of deciding what to do with him."