(Rhaella Targaryen, Dragonstone)
Rhaella was terrified.
She feared the fate that would befall the remnants of her house, at what could potentially happen to her daughter and granddaughter.
Yet, she was also furious. At her brother, at her son, at her daughter-in-law, and the realm as a whole.
There was no Iron Throne for her to bargain for their safety, her family's former capital was now little more than ruins thanks to the actions of her brother and his former best friend.
They weren't even safe in their ancestral seat which was now under the control of the Mudds, gods know how her forebearer Jaehaerys would react to such a situation.
Whatever goodwill the House of the Dragon ever had, had been squandered by her madman of a brother, his snakes, and the sycophants that infested that damned city.
She could take closure in their deaths at least.
Her present circumstance wasn't exactly ideal, yet for decades she had to live in fear of her brother and her son's fall to obsession over some half-baked prophecy.
The same one that had ruined her life.
She would remain strong, if not for herself than for her remaining blood. The safety of her daughter and granddaughter was now her main priority, she was willing to give her own life so that they may live.
Without a male Targaryen alive, there was no clear figurehead to rally around their cause. Their recent actions aside, no one wanted to support another Targaryen queen, the dance's shadow still hanging over the realm.
Thankfully it seemed the Mudds had no interest in ending their line, for now at least. It was apparent that Lord Erlend did not consider them a threat whatsoever and with the narrow lords and the crownlands subjugated, there was no real support that she could draw upon.
North lay the Vale, whose loyalty lay firmly in Aemma's son, south was the brother of the would-be usurper, and west, were treacherous lions and roses who would not hesitate to betray her family, as they've already done.
She sat there in Aegon's Garden, reminiscing of better times, when her father would lay her on his lap, regaling her with tales of their ancestors. The tall dark trees provided shade from the sun's rays alongside the towering thorny hedges, wild roses littering the garden from which her mother would create a crown of roses and place it on her head.
Better times, where she did not fear for her life, her innocence, nor grieve the pain of losing her children.
Getting herself together, Rhaella got up from where she lay in the Garden. As she exited the garden, she heard the guards assigned to her move behind her. Only their steps could be heard, as they followed her silently, not uttering a word.
It was difficult not to be impressed with the discipline of the household guard of House Mudd. She didn't know whether to be worried or proud that Lord Erlend saw fit to have some of the best warriors guard her and her family.
At the least these men did their job and protected her, already there had been attempts on her life by those wishing to curry favor from her House's numerous enemies. She was baffled at why the young conqueror seemed intent on protecting her, wasn't her death in his best interests?
With a heavy heart and a mind filled with conflicting thoughts, she moved towards the Stone Drum, a massive tower that served as the central keep of her ancestral home. Instead of making her way to the Great Hall, she moved towards the Chamber of the Painted Table, located at the top of the massive tower.
Entering the tower, she could not help but stare at the large carved table, depicting Westeros. Carved from a single large block of wood, it was an impressive sight that was commissioned by the Conqueror. Rumored to be one of the most accurate depictions of Westeros ever to be made.
She had not seen Lord Erlend since he had laid foot within Dragonstone. Merely a respectful nod was sent towards her before he made his way to the Royal chambers.
Wanting to be proactive, she chose to willingly visit him, hoping to ease relations between them.
Letting a quiet exhale, Rhalla forced herself to stand straight, her head held high as she faced the young Conqueror.
Yet she froze at the sight that she was presented with.
On the raised seat positioned near Dragonstone on the map, sat Lord Erlend. Staring at the map intensely, plans ran through his eyes as he looked at each major seat.
With brown hair and captivating chocolate-brown eyes, Erlend Mudd was no doubt one of the most handsome men she had ever laid her eyes on. His distant valyrian heritage no doubt being a major contributor to that, melding with the stern visage that was common within First Men, making him quite attractive.
That wasn't what surprised her, no… what shocked Rhalla, was none other than her daughter-in-law standing beside him.
Scantily dressed and leaning close to the raised seat, she gave him a sizable view of her cleavage. While not the most voluptuous of women, Elia Martell was a rather sensual woman and one who knew how to use it.
Rhaella was baffled and more than a little outraged by the presumptuous behavior of the mother of her granddaughter.
However that quickly disappeared when she remembered what Rhaeger had done with a woman nearly half his age.
While not much of a believer, she couldn't help but pray.
'Seven grant me strength'
…
(Elia Martell, Dragonstone)
"You're worried." There was an inquisitive tilt to his question.
"I am," was all she said in response.
Elia couldn't deny the fact that she was terrified of the possibility of everything going wrong, at least more than it already had.
She loved her daughter and was more than willing to sacrifice herself for her sake, hence she decided to do what little she could to maintain her safety.
Yes, Elia Nymeros Martell had decided to do what her people had always been infamous for… she decided to seduce the young conqueror.
Unfortunately despite her attempts for the past few hours, it seemed that Lord Erlend was more amused by her actions than aroused. Frankly, she had almost assumed that he might have had more colorful interests, if not for the fact that he would occasionally glance at her cleavage and legs.
His main focus, though, remained on the painted table, having set it all up on his own, placed on the table were various banners representing each major and great house.
The Riverlands, Vale, and Crownlands all carried miniature versions of the traditional Mudd Banners. The North had both Stark and Mudd banners, though instead of the red-brown field, it held a gray field. Erlend had explained that it represented the neutrality that the North currently felt towards his House.
The Reach was layered with various miniature banners, those representing House Tyrell, Florent, and various neutral grays that represented the marcher and shield lords as well as unique cases like the Osgrey's.
The lack of Mudd Banners hinted at little influence or direction at the moment, though on the border between the Riverlands and the Reach, there were dozens of Cyvasse pieces that represented the Squadrons and Banners positioned close by.
Dorne and the Stormlands currently held similar banner positions as the North though both had slight red undertones in each gray Mudd Banner, signifying that a few lords within each kingdom held hostility towards the Mudds.
There were also various miniature ships, representing the ships under the Mudd Command; they were largely positioned on the narrow sea, though one particular group was on route towards Seagard.
Erlend didn't trust the Ironborn and it showed, the most obvious sign being the red fielded banners of House Greyjoy and Mudd placed on the Iron islands. Their discussion had brought out Erlend's loathing of the reaving scum, though she had no idea why he hated them.
Then again, did one have to have a reason to hate an Ironborn?
For the past few hours, Erlend had been stimulating various scenarios using the map and predicting outcomes. Instead of simply telling her to leave when it was apparent that her seductions failed, he instead asked for her opinion on each scenario.
He'd also questioned her heavily on the lords and ladies she had met, their general attitudes, and the way she thought they might react to any move taken.
Despite her initial goal, Elia found herself completely swept up in their discussion and gave him the best responses she could, having finally realized an hour or so into their discussion of his appreciation of her thoughts.
Of course, she'd also noticed that he would occasionally stare at her rather intensely, at least more than at the map she hoped, which boosted her confidence in attracting his attention.
This was a primary reason why she maintained such an open posture for nearly the entire discussion. However, Erlend did force her to sit on the raised seat when he decided to move around the painted table and change the positions of the banners.
…
Rhaella was here, it didn't take much to realize why she would be here. Yet she did not move, nor did she change her posture.
She was not ashamed of what she had attempted and still trying to do, not if it meant protecting her daughter.
"My Lord." Rhaella bowed her head towards Erlend.
"Lady Rhaella, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He asks.
Sending her a hesitant glance, Rhaella looks up at the young Lord. "My… My daughter." Before she could continue, Erlend silenced the former queen with a gesture.
"You're worried about what would happen to your family" Pausing to send both women a look "Steady yourself, my ladies, if I wanted the Targaryen family dead, or at least what remains of it, you'd not be in this room with me."
Silence fills the chambers, as both women take in his statement.
"Their claims?" Elia couldn't help but inquire.
"Destroyed alongside the Iron Throne." He responded.
"We could still be a threat…" Rhaella pointed out.
"Outside of the Crownlands, there's few who would support you. Your family has done a rather impressive job of pissing away its support base since the Conciliator's passing."
"Dorne?"
"They'd only ever support Rhaenys when they aren't trying to kill each other. I already plan to wed her to my firstborn son, which should be enough to earn the goodwill of the majority."
That froze Elia in her tracks, she had no idea that he'd ever intended to do so.
Erlend merely raised his eyebrow at her, rather amused by the shocked look on her face.
"Didn't you want to protect your daughter, what better protection than being the wife of a future King?"
There was an uneasy look on her face, while it made sense and would effectively guarantee her daughter's safety, it confirmed an already growing suspicion in her mind since their discussion started.
"You want to conquer Westeros…"
"I thought that was pretty obvious my dear, while I did enjoy our discussion, it wasn't just to pick out your wonderful mind."
"My daughter…" Rhaella interrupted the two.
Not breaking his stride "Will remain safe as long as you properly guide her." Erlend said.
Silence again filled the room, as both digested the information Erlend gave. His relaxed posture gave off an aura of absolute confidence. It was a done deal as far as the young man was concerned.
At this point, their agreement was just for the sake of formality.
Letting out a low sigh, Elia focused on Rhaella's reaction to all this, and she could see relief in her eyes.
They had both assumed that Erlend would've made things more difficult for them and while she didn't like the fact that her daughter's fate had already been decided, it was the norm in Westeros and she would have eventually been betrothed to someone, regardless of her opinion on the matter.
"Both of you and your daughters will now be under my protection, any threat against you is a threat against me." Giving them a reassuring nod, Erlend made his way down the raised seat, before exiting the painted chambers.
Swallowing thickly, Elia turns her attention to Rhaella. There was no scorn in her eyes for what she had attempted to do, shock yes, but also understanding. Before she too made her way out of the chambers.
As she walks off back to her Rhaenys, one thought keeps running into Elia's mind as she has a sudden realization.
'I want him.'
======
Note: So… Erlend's kind of a strategy geek, holds a not-so-unreasonable dislike of the Ironborn, and has decided to throw out all protocols while nabbing his future son a wife. This chapter is meant to showcase his pride and absolute confidence in his decision-making which while not inherently bad, comes off as incredibly arrogant and off-putting. As for why Elia and Rhaella are willing to go along with it; they frankly have no choice, anyone else outside of Dorne would've just killed both of them off and molded their daughters into puppets. Elia now has a better grasp of his character, and she's attracted to it.