Chapter 21: The Unconquered Heart and the Immortal's Boon
Whispers of the Unconquered
The Targaryen Conquest had swept through Westeros like wildfire and dragon's breath, forging six kingdoms into one under the dominion of Aegon the Conqueror. Only the North, swearing fealty without a fight, and Dorne, unconquered by force, remained somewhat apart. Yet, in the very heart of the realm, amidst the fertile Riverlands, lay an anomaly that baffled and disquieted the newly unified Seven Kingdoms: the untouched, inviolable domain of House Leywin.
From the fiercely proud lords of the Westerlands to the staunch traditionalists of the Reach, from the grim pragmatic Northmen to the humbled Stormlanders, the existence of a sovereign, unconquered entity, seemingly immune to dragonfire and Valyrian steel, became a topic of endless whispers and hushed speculation.
"It is a curse!" some zealous septons of the Faith of the Seven preached, pointing to the unbowed Old Gods worship within Leywin lands. "A demon of the Gods Eye, untouched by the True Faith!"
"It is defiance," grumbled dispossessed lords, bitterness in their voices. "Aegon should have burned it, like he burned Harrenhal! No realm is truly united with such an unbowed heart."
Others, particularly the common folk and the First Men who lived near the Leywin borders, saw it differently. To them, the Grand Castle of Leywin was a beacon of ancient, benevolent power. Tales of its Immortal Lord, the Gods Eye Guardian, spread quickly – a being who had protected his lands from Andals and Ironborn alike, ensuring peace and prosperity. They saw it not as a challenge to Aegon, but as a silent, powerful blessing upon the land.
"They're all just jealous, Princess," Regis snickered, observing the lingering unease amongst the new nobility. "Jealous that their castles don't repel dragons and their kings have to actually fight to keep their crowns. You've got the ultimate 'no trespassing' sign."
Ceara, her dark blue hair shimmering, her bright red eyes thoughtful, considered the political landscape. "Their acceptance, or lack thereof, is irrelevant. Aegon understands the compact. That is what truly matters for this age."
The Immortal's Personal Favors: Two Coins for Healing
Aegon and his sisters, though absolute rulers, did indeed understand. The terrifying encounter with Arthur, his demonstration of ancient knowledge and unfathomable power, had etched the boundaries of House Leywin into their very souls. As the Targaryen dynasty solidified its rule and set about building King's Landing, a subtle, ethereal message reached not just Aegon, but his sisters directly.
Beyond the three grand favors promised for the realm, Arthur extended a pair of deeply personal boons to Rhaenys and Visenya, and by extension, to their direct descendants.
"Think of them as coins," Arthur's voice resonated directly in their minds, clear as if he stood beside them, yet intangible. "Not of gold or silver, but of destiny. Each of you, and in turn, your worthy children or direct line, will be granted two instances of profound healing, to be called upon in moments of dire need."
The nature of this healing was unlike anything known to maesters or red priests. It was the touch of pure aether, capable of mending bones shattered beyond repair, closing wounds that defied mortal remedies, drawing out poisons, or even restoring vitality from the brink of death. It was a direct intervention from Arthur's own immense power, a limited, but absolute, gift of life.
It was not a command, but a quiet, solemn promise. If Rhaenys or Visenya, or one of their direct descendants, ever found themselves on the precipice of oblivion due to grievous injury or illness, and their thoughts desperately reached out for succor, Arthur would heed their silent plea and offer one of these "coins."
"So, you're the family doctor now, Princess?" Regis's voice drifted into my thoughts, a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity. "That's quite the concierge service. Are we sending them a bill?"
"It is a strategic investment, Regis," I replied, my gaze distant. "Their dynasty will face many challenges. The survival of their line, especially those connected to dragons, is important for the greater war to come. These favors also bind them, however subtly, to our presence."
Ceara, understanding the deeper implications, simply smiled. "A clever way to ensure a lifeline for the ones who truly matter, should the time come when they need a helping hand, beyond mortal aid."
The Immortal Lord of House Leywin had established his eternal sovereignty, not through conquest, but through a unique compact of deterrence and unexpected benevolence. The Targaryen dragons might rule the skies of Westeros, but in the heart of the Riverlands, an ancient, unwavering power remained, its borders respected, its favors a silent, profound promise across the centuries.
Chapter 21: The Unconquered Heart and the Silent Favors
The Seven Kingdoms' Unease
As the fires of Aegon's Conquest slowly died down, replaced by the simmering discontent of a unified realm, the unique status of the Leywin lands became a prominent, if hushed, topic across the newly forged Seven Kingdoms. Six crowns had been cast down, ancient houses had bent the knee or been put to the sword, and the Iron Throne now stood as a brutal monument to Targaryen dominance. Yet, in the very heart of Westeros, the Riverlands around the Gods Eye remained untouched, inviolable, marked only by the silent, towering presence of the Grand Castle of Leywin.
The reactions were varied, a tapestry of resentment, awe, and pragmatic acceptance.
In the Westerlands, the Lannisters, though quick to bend the knee to avoid Balerion's wrath, grumbled in private councils. To have an independent entity, a power even the dragons dared not challenge, exist within the core of the continent was an affront to the very idea of a unified realm. It was an uncontrolled variable, a place beyond their reach, a constant reminder that not all of Westeros bowed to the dragons.
The Reach and the Stormlands, reeling from the devastating losses and the obliteration of their ruling houses, looked upon the Leywin lands with a mix of grudging respect and bitter envy. Where their armies had burned and their kings had died, the mysterious Immortal Lord's domain stood serene and untouched. It seemed unfair, a blatant exception to the "fire and blood" that had consumed them.
In the North, where the Starks had bent the knee without a fight, the whispers were different. The Northmen, devout to the Old Gods and inherently wary of outside influence, found a strange kinship with the Leywin anomaly. The Immortal Lord, with his ties to ancient magic and his seemingly eternal vigilance over the Gods Eye, resonated with their own reverence for the old ways. Many saw it not as an unconquered province, but as a sacred trust, a powerful guardian against forgotten evils, much like the Wall itself.
The Vale, protected by its mountains and the swift surrender of its queen, Sharra Arryn, was largely unconcerned, viewing the Riverlands as a distant affair. The Iron Islands, proud and rebellious, felt a flicker of defiance, seeing the Leywin lands as proof that even dragons had limits, though they were too busy rebuilding after Harrenhal's fall to challenge either power.
For the smallfolk living near the Leywin borders, however, it was a blessing. The lands promised by the Blessing of the Rivers were richer, safer, untouched by the ravages of war that had swept across their neighbors. Tales of the Immortal Lord's ancient vigilance, his unwavering protection, solidified into a new kind of reverence.
The Sisters' Boon: Two Coins of Healing
As the Targaryens began to establish their new capital at King's Landing, consolidating their power, another, more personal communication came from the Immortal Lord. This message was sent not to Aegon, but specifically to his sister-queens, Visenya and Rhaenys, a subtle connection felt only by them.
It was an offer, a peculiar gift meant for them and their direct descendants, born from Arthur's foresight and a profound, ancient wisdom.
"You and your blood will face perils," a resonant mental voice, clear as a bell, echoed in their minds one quiet evening on Dragonstone, startling them both. It was the voice of the Immortal Lord. "Your dragons provide power, but even they are not immune to the world's many harms. And your mortal forms are fragile."
Then, a sensation unlike any they had known settled in their minds: the phantom weight of two ethereal coins. Not physical gold or silver, but constructs of pure aether, imbued with immense healing power, waiting to be called upon.
"These are two favors of healing," the voice continued. "One for each of you, to be used once in your lifetime, or passed down to a chosen, worthy descendant who faces insurmountable physical peril. When you, or your chosen heir, are at the brink of death, from wound, sickness, or poison, simply call upon this boon. My power will reach across the realm, mending what is broken, cleansing what is tainted. It is a gift, to aid in the continuation of your line, for the sake of the greater war to come."
Visenya, ever the pragmatist, was wary, but the power she felt emanating from the ethereal coins was undeniable. She probed it with her mind, sensing an ancient, pure force unlike any magic she had ever encountered, even Valyrian sorcery. Rhaenys, more impulsive and intuitive, was simply awestruck, recognizing the immense benevolence behind the gesture.
"He truly means for us to endure," Rhaenys murmured, a mix of fear and gratitude in her voice.
"He means for us to endure so we can face the darkness he spoke of," Visenya countered, her expression grim. "But it is a powerful boon, one we must not squander."
Regis's mental snicker echoed in Arthur's mind, back in the Grand Castle. 'Giving out magical coupons now, Princess? What's next, a loyalty program? 'Heal two limbs, get the third free!''
Arthur merely ignored his impudent shadow, his own focus on the subtle, distant ripples of acceptance from the two queens. The compact was complete. The Targaryens were now firmly rooted in Westeros, their dynasty secured, their dragons soaring, yet eternally bound by the ancient, silent power of the Immortal Lord, whose unseen hand continued to shape the destinies of men and dragons alike.