"More..." Arianne grabbed his hand and demanded when he was about to get out of bed, and Azaerys could not help but smile at her.
"It's morning now, my dear Queen. Get up. We need to get ready for the Council of Chiefs."
Though she pouted at him over his words, she obediently got up, and then sensually stretched her arms, trying to entice him.
The Young King helplessly shook his head at her behaviour and picked her up before leading her into the bath.
He filled her up once again, satisfied her needs, and then cleaned up before returning to the room.
Once they got dressed, they entered the Guest Hall, where everyone was already waiting for them.
"The Chiefs are here and want to meet us," Viserys informed him.
Azaerys nodded and took Oberyn, Nymeria, Arthur, Arianne, and the Targaryen Prince with him for the meeting, ordering the rest to have their breakfast and rest.
As soon as they exited the door, the guards outside greeted them and then led them to the Council of Cheifs.
"Drazar Hazaedis!" The Chiefs greeted them as soon as they entered the Great Hall, all smiles, and eyes filled with curiosity.
"Drazar Arrudin!" They answered, and then Azaerys took the empty chair, on the side of a Chieftess, who was wearing a shawl of leopard skin.
His entourage stood behind him as there were no other seats, just like the entourages of other Chiefs were standing behind them.
The meeting began with Zarro letting him know that they loved the silk and wine and that all Chiefs were willing to trade for it, which was a piece of good news.
An enthusiastic Cheif from the Tiger Tribe showed him the Valyrian Steel Dirk that he was wearing on his waist and informed him that centuries ago, the Valyrians had gifted it to his ancestors in return for their hospitality, and the sight of the blade had everyone enviously looking at him. The man had clearly done it to tease his fellow Cheifs and Chieftesses, and seeing the desired result, he proudly sat back in his chair after Azaerys returned the dirk to him.
"What do you want to trade for that wine and silk?" The Chieftess next to him, who was a woman in her middle ages, but still very pretty, asked.
"I am hoping that you would lend me some men for a few years and that we can establish a biennial trade, where silk and wine will be brought to you every two years. We also have spices that you might like, and in return, you will make the best of your bows and arrows for us. We will also exchange goods for gold and Hippogriff Eggs."
"Men?" They did not care about anything else, but the need for men made them frown.
"I need Warriors. Not many. As long as your clans can lend me a 100 Warriors for, at least, two years, that's fine. There may be some deaths, but the lives of Kharziks will not be wasted. We will bring them back here when the loan period is over."
"Foreign land..."
All the Chiefs started discussing things amongst themselves, and Azaerys sighed as he saw where things were headed.
However, he stayed silent and did not cut in their conversation.
Viserys, who had learned this language from him in the last year, frowned at all the conditions that the Kharziks wanted to put forward, and his heart nearly jumped in his throat when an old man looked at him, grinning.
"Azaerys, I am not going to marry his daughter," he said in High Valyrian, and the Young King and his entourage suppressed their chuckles at the restlessness of the Prince.
"She may be beautiful," he said, but Viserys highly doubted it, however, what he heard next made the Targaryen Prince smirk.
"Your husband is up for grabs too, Nym." He told the Starlyte, and Arthur's frown amused Oberyn a lot. "You too, Prince."
"Marriage isn't for me," said the Dornish Prince, shaking his head.
"The old man wants to wed his widow daughter to you, he thinks you are the same age as her, old, and will make a good pair with her," Viserys smirked.
"Old?" The man frowned and sighed when he heard his daughter giggle at him.
"I am only thirty and five."
"That's old," Arianne ruthlessly said.
"I will make sure to remind you of this when your time will come," he promised, and the Martell Queen rolled her eyes at his words.
Finally, after much discussion, the Chiefs decided on the terms they wanted to present to Azaerys.
"You must have learned from our conversation that we don't lend our men to anyone unless they are part of the Kharziks. We have never been in a situation where sending out men to a foreign land crossed our minds. This place is our home. We have no real interest in foreign lands."
"I understand."
"If you want men, you will have to become part of our Tribes. You will have to marry the daughter or granddaughter of one of us Chiefs, and you will receive some Warriors, her guards, in dowry. Once you are married and your marriage is consummated, we will be open to lending Warriors to you." The Chieftess next to him said. "But we will not do that for silk and wine. We need your help in dealing with the Cursed Folk."
"We need to create a new Town, extend our existing Towns, and for that, we need some years without having to worry about the cursed ones. Centuries ago, the two Dragon Riders stayed with us for three years. They repelled three Hunts and scared the Cursed Ones, who did not appear the following years. We enjoyed two decades of peace in which we created these towns..." The Oldest chief, who belonged to the Wolf Tribe, informed him. "We will be grateful to you if you can help us and we will lend you 200 Warriors each from our twenty Tribes for ten years."
All of them hopefully looked at the Young King, and Viserys was relieved that no one brought him into this discussion.
He translated the terms to his companions, and Oberyn finally understood why Azaerys had said that things were more complicated now.
"How many Warriors will there be in your daughter's dowry?" The Young King asked, and all the Chiefs turned to look at each other.
"I will offer you two hundred men in dowry..."
"Hundred and twenty Hippogriffs..."
"Fifty Hippogriffs and fifty of my finest Warriors..."
...
...
...
One by one, all of them told him what they were willing to offer, and Azaerys smiled inside his heart as he watched them fight over it.
Suddenly, one of the Chieftesses, who was likely only in her early thirties, spoke up.
"What will you offer in return as a token of the familial bond? In our religion, the Groom must give something precious to his wife's family as well. Marriage is not a trade, but a symbol of trust and promise."
She turned the tables on him, and he curiously looked into her eyes.
The woman was smart, probably the most intelligent of all these Chieftains.
"I promise you that my gift will not disappoint any of you." He said but did not state what he was going to gift them.
The Chieftess, who belonged to the Shadowcat Tribe, looked right into his eyes.
"I have twin girls. If they choose to marry you, and you accept them, I will give you 100 Hippogriffs, 40 Hippogriff Eggs, and 500 of my Tribe's Warriors, including people skilled in raising these Beasts," she put forward her proposal, and he raised his brow at her.
Even the other Chiefs looked at her in surprise, but suddenly, one of them started feeling unwell.
"You are going to make me pay, aren't you, Haera?" The old man from the Wolf Tribe asked.
"You owe me, Old One. And they are your granddaughters," she smirked at him before looking back at Azaerys, waiting for his answer.
"Are they beautiful?" He smiled and asked, and the woman raised her brow back at him.
"You will not find anyone prettier than them amongst our people," she confidently said, and none of the Chieftains refused her words.
The Young King did not doubt her words in the least. The woman herself was very beautiful, and the man standing behind her silently, was her Consort, the Old Man's son, and he was a handsome young man.
"I am willing to marry them if they choose me," he told her, and she smiled before appreciatively looking at him.
"I will call them here so you can meet each other right now," said Haera before looking at her husband, who immediately walked out of the Hall to bring their daughters.
"Viserys," the Young Prince tensed up when he called his name, fearing the worst, but relaxed when he heard what Azaerys whispered in his ear.
"Are you sure?" He frowned.
"Yes."
The Prince did not ask any questions and walked straight out of the Hall to go and get what his brother intended to gift Haera.
"Have you agreed on the terms?" Arianne curiously asked.
Since everything that was discussed was in the First Tongue, none of them understood anything.
Viserys had not translated the second half either.
"Yes."
"What?"
"I am to marry the Chieftess' twin daughters, and in dowry, I will receive 500 Warriors, 100 Hippogriffs, and 50 Hippogriffs Eggs."
"Just 500?" Oberyn grinned at him, but he did not doubt the prowess of the Kharziks.
Every man and woman that he had come across so far was a Warrior. Even the Old Man with the wolf pelt looked sharp enough to cut a dozen people in half.
The door of the Great Hall opened again, and Oberyn, together with the rest, turned to look towards it. And they were stunned at seeing the two beautiful girls, clad in breeches and leather armours, who were wearing two dirks each on their waists, proudly marching inside the Hall.
They were around fifteen namedays old, brown-skinned, but on a lighter shade, tall, wearing breeches and knee-high boots, whose sound echoed in the Hall.
Both had their hair tied in low ponytails, which flowed down to their waists, and their grey eyes were like crystals, clear and captivating.
"Mother." The two saluted to Haera, who smiled at them and stood up from her seat.
She grabbed their hands and took them aside to talk in private.
Azaerys was amused when the twins looked his way and frowned, and clearly, they seemed a little unhappy with the proposals.
Eventually, both of them walked over to him, looked into his eyes, and one of them opened her mouth.
"Do you fight?" She asked.
"Why? Do you want to fight me?" He smiled at them and chucked when they pulled out their Dirks and the men behind him tensed.
He gestured to Oberyn and Ser Oswell to stay calm, and then stood up, towering over the twins with his six and a quarter feet tall height.
"If you take on both of us in a fight and defeat us, we will marry you," the second Twin said.
"It sounds like you don't want to get married."
They both smirked at him and now he was very interested in wiping off their smiles.
"Very well." He said and then looked to the left, where a guard was standing with a staff.
The twins frowned when he walked over to take the staff, and they debated if they should do the same.
"Fight with the weapon you are comfortable with," said Azaerys, and grinned when both jumped to sides and tried to pincer him, holding dirks in both their hands.
On the other side, Nymeria was the only one who was in the mood to laugh. She loved the personality of these girls, and even though they did not understand the language, everyone knew what it was all about.
Azaerys slowly started twirling and spinning his staff, and soon the air started vibrating, creating whooshing sounds.
"Come," he asked them, the girls lept at him like shadowcats.
They were good, brilliantly good, and even Oberyn was unsure if he could have kept up with them as he watched Azaerys dancing with the two Kharziks. And more than anything, he was impressed by how good the Young King was now with the staff.
On the sides, when Haera saw that Azaerys could indeed fight and fight very well, she grinned, and the rest of the Chieftains were on their feet now, cheering for him.
All the guards in the room, who were holding their staffs, started tapping them on the ground, adding to the atmosphere.
Everything seemed to be going well for Azaerys until Arthur and Oberyn noticed that his staff was getting damaged, and they became a little tense.
To Oswell, Arianne, and Nymeria, a wooden staff against sharp dirks, in the hands of two highly skilled Warriors, was perhaps not the wisest choice, but they realised that the Young King would have made easy work of his opponents had they been any less skilful.
The two girls had caught him off-guard.
However, what they were thinking was not the case.
Azaerys, though surprised by the skill of the two girls, was not worried at all. He was enjoying himself as he tested their limits, and it truly was a joy to fight against skilled warriors.
But what happened next, did make his heart skip a beat.
One of the twins suddenly dropped the dirk in her left hand, blocked the staff with the arm guard, and bearing the pain, she grabbed onto it.
Her sister immediately capitalised on the opening, but just when she was about to reach him, he let go of the staff and spun around, skillfully parrying her arm away and dodging the swinging blade in the other.
The girls were no longer playing. They were deadly serious, and any loss in concentration was going to leave a very painful cut on his body.
"Not the face!" He growled when one of them nearly cut off his nose, and seeing them smirk, he narrowed his eyes.
To everyone's disbelief, he suddenly caught the blade of the dirk with his bare hand, and when the girl tried to thrust her second hand as well, he grabbed it too, but by wrapping his hand over her hand, avoiding the blade. He then spun her around, using her as a shield against her sister, and pointed the tips of the daggers under her neck, slowly forcing them to meet her skin.
The girl tried her best to pull her dagger and hand free, and even though blood was leaking from his hand, it was like a vice grip around her blade. She was certain that the bones in her other hand were about to snap, but still gritted her teeth and tried her best to not let the tips of the blade reach her skin.
However, she lacked strength in comparison to him. Her face paled when she felt the tips kiss her skin, and her sister no longer dared to continue the fight.
"You lose," Azaerys whispered in her ear, and she could feel him smirking even though she could not see his face.
She still struggled a little but stopped when he pushed her hands down and slowly let go of her.
Her eyes inadvertently looked at his bleeding hand, and she was confused to see that it was not bleeding much. The blood seemed to have stopped flowing out, and even though his hand was trembling, he did not seem to be in any discomfort. Or he was very good at hiding it.
"Hoo!"
"Hoo!"
"Hoo!"
Cheers rose in the Great Hall, and the only two people who looked unhappy were the sisters who had just lost the fight.