In the grand hall, the Lords of Westeros approached Bahamut, their curiosity evident as they congratulated him on being named Hand of the King. Whispers circulated about his mysterious origins, with speculations ranging from him being a Targaryen bastard to a Valyrian origin. Bahamut, reveling in the intrigue, maintained the façade of a family friend of the Targaryens, keeping his true identity as a dragon hidden for the sake of amusement.
As Bahamut strolled among the Lords, he decided to set his plans in motion. Addressing Renly Baratheon and Mace Tyrell, he instructed them to gather their banner men and dismantle the forces loyal to House Lannister. He subtly hinted at his own plan to take down Casterly Rock, leaving the Southern Lords unaware that he intended to do so alone, as a dragon.
Turning his attention to the North, Bahamut approached Eddard Stark, where a distinct chill permeated the atmosphere. Northerners, unaccustomed to the political subtleties of the South, showed a more reserved demeanor. The Northern Lord's acknowledged the Kings Hand with a nod, a silent gesture of respect. Bahamut reciprocated with a nod of his own, noting the difference in reception between the Northerners and their counterparts in the South.
As Bahamut engaged in conversation with Eddard Stark, but Ned couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. Though Bahamut's voice might have lost some of its majestic quality, the aura surrounding him remained undiminished. Ned Stark, despite his disbelief, recognized the presence before him as the dragon that had once judged him months ago.
In a hushed whisper only audible to Ned, Bahamut revealed, "Keep it a secret for now, what I am." Ned's eyes widened in disbelief, struggling to reconcile the dragon with the current reality. Catelyn, sensing her husband's inner turmoil, inquired, "What's wrong, my love?" Ned, ever stoic, dismissed it with a made-up smile, a strange sight for someone known for his stern expressions.
Bahamut, offering a bow to Catelyn, addressed Eddard, "Lord Stark, I would like to discuss the marriage proposal between King Aegon and Lady Sansa, as we spoke of last time." While Catelyn's excitement for her daughter's potential queenship had waned, her curiosity about how Ned knew the current Hand of the King lingered.
With a regretful expression, Eddard replied, "Forgive me, Lord Bahamut. I need more time. I've made a mistake before, and I don't wish to repeat it with my daughter." Bahamut accepted the response with understanding, cautioning Ned that the proposal might not be on hold indefinitely if a suitable candidate emerged.
Eddard nodded in acknowledgment, and as Bahamut turned to leave, his eyes met Arya's curious gaze. With a mysterious glint in his eyes, Bahamut moved away to engage with other Lords.
Then Bahamut, noting Olenna Tyrell's shrewd gaze upon him, decided to approach the Queen of Thorns. She sat among the Reach's delegation, her sharp wit unmistakable even from a distance. As he neared, Olenna greeted him with a hint of sarcasm, "Greetings, Lord Hand.".
Bahamut, undeterred, responded with a nod, playing along with her tone. "Greetings, Lady Olenna. Or should I say, Queen of the Thorns?" he quipped.
Olenna let out a feigned laugh, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark. "Oh, I do like a man with a sense of humor. Quite rare these days."
Bahamut, with a wry smile, retorted, "Humor is a valuable commodity, especially in the political arena. Keeps things interesting.".
Olenna, known for her sharp wit, responded with a fake chuckle. "Oh, Lord Hand, you do have a way with words."
Bahamut, not one to back down, leaned in slightly, his golden eyes locking with Olenna's shrewd gaze. "Well, Lady Olenna, words can be as powerful as dragons, don't you think?"
Olenna's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Indeed, Lord Hand. But unlike dragons, words don't spit fire."
Bahamut, maintaining his composure, added, "True, but they can spark revolutions, alliances, and, in some cases, wars. Just like the subtle influence of House Tyrell."
Olenna raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that the Tyrells played a subtle game, Lord Hand?"
Bahamut's tone turned more serious. "I'm suggesting that some Houses chose wisely during the fall of the Targaryens. House Tyrell, for instance, decided not to commit its forces, a move that might have spared them from the ravages of war."
Olenna, never one to be easily swayed, retorted, "Perhaps, Lord Hand. But the Tyrells have always played a careful game. We know when to act and when to watch."
Bahamut, however, issued a caution. "Unlike other Lords, I don't remember Tyrells ruling before the dragons conquered Westeros. What were they then, stewards? If dragons could elevate them, they can also bring them low. Am I right, Olenna?".
A moment of tension hung in the air as Bahamut's words sank in. Olenna, known for her sharp tongue, met his gaze with a shrewd glint in her eyes. "You have a point, Lord Hand. But as you said, I'm just a humble old woman, enjoying the spectacle. What harm could an old rose do?".
Bahamut, maintaining his calm demeanor, issued a subtle warning, "Harm, Lady Olenna, is often a matter of perspective. And in the game of thrones, perspectives can change swiftly. Be mindful not to underestimate the power of dragons, or the consequences that may follow.".
Olenna, undeterred, leaned back in her seat. "A fascinating perspective, Lord Hand. But remember, the roses of House Tyrell have thorns."
Bahamut, leaving her with a parting thought, remarked, "Indeed, Lady Olenna. But even thorns can be plucked.".
Bahamut, shifting his tone, smiled and said, "Lady Olenna. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to other matters. Farewell."
As Bahamut took his leave, Olenna, and her granddaughter Margaery, watched him with newfound curiosity.