[b][color=gold] A Victory is won, the Band of Seven, Aftermath [/color][/b]

Victory had been hard won, with dead and wounded from the valiant defenders of the Red Keep and King’s Landing now needing to be taken care of, be it in funeral rights, or through medical care, the vile foe was vanquished, but not without a blood price being paid by many. The following day brought a sigh of relief and relative peace for both those high and low within the rankings of the city and realm. Ser Aerion massaged the muscles in his right leg, working the stiffness from his tired and sore body. He took a moment to lean against a wall, enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun upon his face and exposed skin before having to make his way to the stuffy interior of the Throne Room for the Red Keep. The King and Queen had summoned a substantial number of people to be in attendance for the King’s response to the raid purportedly perpetrated by the Pirate King and his secessionist forces in the Stepstones.

Ser Aerion walked with a slight limp, or perhaps it was a bit of stiffness from his own wounds healing and being taken care of. While the Septon had done wonders to patch and stitch up Aerion’s wounds, it would still take a few weeks for everything to be back to normal. Little cuts and scrapes were one thing, but slashes and arrow holes take time, though for some odd reason, they felt as though they had been helped along by some unknown force or higher power. No use it putting too much thought into the matter though, best to let some things be at face value, and go about your day, Ser Aerion thought to himself. Spotting his comrades in arms, Aerion made his way across the crowded Throne Room to stand with the Band of Seven, nodding to them as they all traded pleasantries, save Ser Lorimer, who was sound asleep from Milk of the Poppy. Aerion had learned he lost his leg to some foul creature, and that Lady Lyvia and Lady Cerenna had to cauterize the wound to staunch the loss of blood. A shame, but better to be alive and have a wooden leg, then to be dead and with both legs.

The cavernous room was alight with chatter, people talking in their groups and cliques, some debating this and that. Talk ranged from revenge, sorrow, mourning, anger, surprise, and the like, emotions running raw and hot from the still very fresh attack. Ser Aerion made note of important individuals about the room, High Lords, Lord Paramounts, even the Royal Family, before focusing back onto a conversation between Lady Cerenna and Lady Lyvia. “They say they might be able to save his leg… but I doubt such things are possible. Only fools believe that they can sew a leg back onto a cauterized stump and expect it to be just fine and dandy. No, Lorimer will have to become a clerk or ruler from a desk now, rather than a soldier on the field of battle.” There was a pause, before the conversation continued, “But, I am glad he is alive, either way. Lorimer is strong, and he will come to terms with his new lot in life. Lord Tyrell… Willas I think, his leg is lame, and he rules the Reach… maybe not in physical prowess, but a sharp mind and patient man can rule anything.”

Ser Aerion was going to chime in, when the King’s herald began to bang his staff upon the ground, signaling for all in attendance to hold their tongues and be ready for their liege to speak. Surprisingly, it took the burly herald a dozen times of slamming the butt of the staff upon the stone floor to gain order within the room. He nodded to himself, before bowing his head and looking to the King. King Jon Targaryen, still encased is his armor, dried blood and all, rose from his throne, looking out over the crowd of people before him, perhaps gauging the room, and his audience and subjects, before speaking.

[color=red] “After intense consultation with my council, we have come to several conclusions and courses of action. I will proceed in informing you all of my plans quickly. But first, I must congratulate you all on your conduct during this battle. We were attacked in the dead of night, unaware of the danger approaching. We could have all been killed, victims of inaction and panic. But we rallied together, kept our wits, and stood valiantly against our enemies as we once did in the Long Night. There has never been a more chivalrous, courageous, and honorable collection of knights, lords, and ladies and I am proud to have fought beside you in battle once more. Tonight, we were united and this unity saved the kingdom. Before I reveal what must be done next, I shall bestow the throne's honors upon the collection of heroes gathered here today.” [/color]

Ser Aerion and his compatriots listened intently to the king, musing to themselves within their own minds on who might be recognized and deemed heroic for their actions. Aerion watched as the King’s Herald unfurled a long scroll, the document every bit as expensive and magnificent as a four-course meal at one of the upscale inns within the city. No doubt the Iron Throne and the Small council took their time to create this list, some folks deserving, others for political gains and checks. But such pageantry was needed for the greater good Ser Aerion guessed. Aerion watched several young lordlings and heirs earn their spurs, while more seasoned knights were inducted into the Green Hand or the Winged Knights in recognition for their bravery. Many soldiers received promotions, while hedge knights were accepted as sworn swords to the greater households.

What transpired next was a bit interesting to say the least. Queen Daenerys Targaryen herself, the Stormborn and Breaker of Chains bestowed the next set of honors’ herself, to the perhaps more noteworthy individuals. First to be recognized was the pompous tosh Ser Ellion Tyrell, and after the ribald jokes that Lady Amber had related to Aerion, he thought even less of the man. He was inducted into a Reach knightly order, Knights of the Green Hand, while also being offered the position of Master-at-Arms for the Red Keep. While all the lickspittle Reachmen cheered their shiny penny, Aerion thought otherwise. ‘Too young, too cocky, too arrogant. Sure, raw and natural talent, but all this will do is go to his head and make him more of a tosh and cocky.’ Aerion rolled his eyes and continued listening. 

Next to be recognized were the Greyjoy bastards, Lady Taria and Reaver Balon, each the respective bastard of a full-blooded Greyjoy. Good for them, Ser Aerion thought, they probably did some serious fighting to get upgraded to full familiar recognition. Both had the look of good solid fighters, trained through hard combat and rigorous training, rather than the comfort of a castle training yard. Next was Ser Mychel Arryn, heir to the Vale. He was being drafted into the Knights Herald, which after the Queen’s explanation, sounded like a lesser royal guard detailed to diplomatic endeavors, under the review of the Lord Hand, who happened to be Lord Tyrion Lannister. Made sense, the young man seemed to be a bit more studious rather than a tavern brawler, perhaps it would serve the realm well. Following Ser Mychel, come another few Valeman, a Ser Harrold Hardyng and a Ser Artys Grafton. The former was given a ceremonial title of Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, a sort of garrison commander probably, whilst the latter was given the rank of Knight-Lieutenant within the Winged Knights.     

After the noteworthy combatants from the Iron Islands and the Vale had received their honors, the Throne turned its praise unto the Riverlands and Westerlands. First was Lady Merebelle Gray, though she was more a fighter than a lady, much like Lady Lyvia. Perhaps a bit odd referring to her as Ser, but it was not Aerion’s place to question. She was bequeathed the title of Sworn Sword and Bard of the Iron Throne. What was more interesting was how the Crown promised to build a school for Bards and their like, along with the Gray family being recognized during its dedication ceremony. Next were the Freys, with Lady Mable and Lady Jenn. Both were being given their spurs for their meritorious service, along with the promise of being always welcomed at court. Furthermore, Lord Steffon was given the privilege or rather benefit of marrying Lady Jonquil Mudd, increasing their power since their fall from grace a few decades ago. From the Freys came the sons of House Lannister and House Clegane, Tom and Petyr. Both young lads were knighted for their actions, bringing their own rounds of cheering.

Aerion watched as an interesting individual was honored. Seran of Lys, a fellow sellsword, though one who had gone missing a while back after some sort of dispute, rumors said. He was offered a position at court, along with promise of food and aid. A smaller reward than some, but perhaps a bit of a carrot on a stick to get more from Seran before greater rewards came. ‘Good for him’, Aerion thought, before his reverie was broken by the mention of his own name. Queen Daenerys spoke loud and clear through the room, the command in her tone carrying from wall to wall. [color=red] "Ser Aerion Goldfyre, it has come to my attention that yours is the blood of the dragon. We are kin. And you have proven yourself a loyal friend of the realm. For your service, I name you a Knight of the newly formed Order of the Dragon. This order will be made up of knights with Valyrian blood in their veins and will be one of the realm's principal defenses against its enemies. The entire Band of Seven will be forever known as friends of the realm and will always be welcomed in my hall. Lady Cerenna, my Maesters are working tirelessly using revolutionary healing arts to give your brother back the use of his leg. They will work day and night until he can once again stand. Tell him that his sacrifice has earned a great reward. House Lannister will relinquish its temporary garrison and House Lefford will once again be known as Lords of the Golden Tooth."[/color]

Ser Aerion was astounded. He had done little more than what any good knight would do in such a dire situation. Far be it from him to look a gift horse in the mouth, he smiled polite fully, and bowed deeply before the throne, owing his status and future hopes to their good graces. Lady Cerenna was ecstatic, her and her brother’s home would finally be theirs again. While such a token reward came at the expense of her brother’s leg, even if there was a chance to reattach it, she knew it was slim at best. She smiled, pride beaming on her face. She knelt farther than any of the others before her, tears now coming from her eyes. Calling out while she could, “Thank you your majesty… this is the greatest honor and kindness that any could ever bestow upon House Lefford. A thousand thanks my Queen.” Both Aerion and Cerenna rose up at the same time, both thankful for their accolades, but their time was past, and the focus was to others once more.

Next came the blood far closer to the throne of the Seven Kingdoms. Robb Baratheon was promoted to King’s Justice, while Lady Visenya Storm was given her spurs and inducted into the Order of the Dragon. Fair honors for such skilled combatants. Next, were the princes of House Targaryen. Aemon, Viserys, and Rhaegar were all inducted into the Order of the Dragon, with Aemon being presented as its Lord Commander. The Queen spoke of their skill in battle, along with them earning the right and respect to be true princes of the Realm. Last, came the final rewards and accolades of men and women of lesser renown and houses, rounding out the joyous nature of the event, dovetailing into the real reason for everyone being summoned forth.

King Jon addressed all those in attendance of matters grave to the security and stability of their great Kingdom. He spoke of the Pirate King in the Stepstones, the Vulture King who controlled Hellgate Hall and its surrounding regions, the rebellious Mountain Clans within the Vale, and a few other lesser evils that plagued the realm. But paramount was the defeat and reconquest of the Stepstones and its rebellious King. Aerion listened intently, seeing where it would be best for him to lend his aid and skill, as no doubt seasoned veterans and the like would be needed for the upcoming campaigns. Plus, the chance for greater rewards, or rather, the chance to see his friends hopes and dreams fulfilled was alluring. Lady Lyvia wished to regain her ancestral home, while Ser Uther, Ser Oswell, and Ser Harwin all hope to gain homes for their families once more as well. They all came first, before anything else. Once they had been helped, then, and only then, perhaps Ser Aerion could seek his own fortunes. Aerion looked around to see the audience had been dismissed, save himself and others of import, who were being summoned to a private audience with the King and Queen. 

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[b][color=red]The King and Queen, a private Audience arrayed[/color][/b]
As Ser Aerion was making his way through the throngs of people exiting the Throne Room, he was stopped by a familiar face, or rather, faces. Aerion smiled at Seran and Lysara, bowing his head in greeting to them as they called out to him in thanks. [color=Lavender] “Ser Aerion, it is good to see you, and you have my most sincere congratulations. I only wished I had noticed you sooner. My felicitation to you as well, Sers.” [/color] Seran spoke in a friendly tone. Ser Aerion found Seran to be a good man, quiet, dutiful, and very protective as his family. If the rumors were true, a shame what happened to his brother. Next to Seran stood a smaller figure, feminine beneath her modest and conservative clothing. Lady Lysara, if Aerion’s memory was correct, though it had been several months, or was it years, that Seran had dropped off the face of the world.  

A giggle, followed by a sultry sounding, yet playful voice came forth to make Ser Aerion laugh softly at Lady Lysara’s banter. Apparently, Seran was unlucky enough to eat some undercooked or spoiled food, which led to him being somewhat less able bodied to participate in the city’s defense. She was certainly as witty and beautiful as Aerion remembered, and laughter escaped his lips as the look between Seran and Lysara was exchanged. They certainly hadn’t changed, which was good. Her remarks about Lady Amber certainly seemed genuine, and Ser Aerion spoke up in return. “Thank you Lady Lysara, I truly appreciate your condolences. Death is never a good thing for anyone. I hope that she pulls through it all, so that my conscious can have a sigh of relief. But enough of such darker matters. Thank you for your congratulations, but far be it from me to ignore your own achievements. You have certainly earned recognition from the Throne, and all the better for you both. I hope and pray more shall follow, and perhaps, if fate deems it, a home for you two to build anew for your family.” Aerion smiled once more, bowing his head to both fellow sellswords.
 
Soon enough though, royal servants were beckoning Ser Aerion and his compatriots to the meeting chambers. Aerion sighed, nodding, and looked at Seran, “See you inside I guess. Take care, and watch your back. Lysara, always a pleasure to speak with you, and perhaps if time permits, you and your brother could join my friends and I for lunch, less your duties keep you from it of course. Seven guide you.” Aerion bowed, before turning to follow the servant, leaving Seran and Lysara to their own machinations. 

Aerion passed through the guards without hassle, placing himself towards the center of the gathered people. Lady Cerenna and Lady Lyvia were closest to him, quietly chatting to themselves, while his other friends, they stood near the front of the room, wanting to try and distinguish themselves in the hopes to completing their goals, and regaining their familiar lands. At long last, the King and Queen spoke, explaining the reason why the select few had been summoned forth into this more private meeting. Aerion and the Band of Seven took their seats, quietly and politely listening to all that had to be said and relayed. The King broke the reason down into three parts, three different campaigns, all with their own unique conflict and dangers. The Stepstones, the Vulture King, and the Mountain Clans.

All those in attendance were given a singular choice out of three possible options. March with Lord Tyrion Lannister, with Ser Mychel Arryn and Ser Artys Grafton, to the Vale. Once there, it would be your sole mission to either bring the Mountain Clans to fealty, or fully wipe them out, once and for all. The Crown would no longer tolerate these lingering First Men remnants within its borders, and it was either bend the knee, or be destroyed. The second option was to march with Ser Gendry, in his campaign to defeat the rebellious Vulture King. On the borders between Dorne and the Reach, lay Hellgate Hall, a massive fortress, and its surrounding lands, that had risen up in full armed rebellion, proclaiming their own king, and kingdom. Such could not be allowed, less it give leeway to the unrest of old, the time of the Five Kings and their wars that ravaged the land. Last, was the campaign of the Stepstones reconquest. Under the watchful eye of Lady Arya Stark, those who followed her would once and for all defeat the Pirate King and his rebel lords, and wipe out all resistance within the Stepstones. 

All three were viable options, though to be honest, Ser Aerion held reservations about fighting in the Stepstones once more. The place was a nightmare, through and through, but he had the experience, which would be of help to his commanding officer. He sighed, thinking of the best course of action, while he let the others speak their turns first, patiently waiting to address the King and Queen for what troubled his own mind. He watched as Lady Lysara addressed the King and Queen, smiling at her courage and daring move, bowing his head towards Seran and Lysara respectively. Aerion watched others addressing their concerns and oaths of fealty before the King and Queen, finding it all to be surreal. As the others would make their way from the room, heading off to find their new commanding officers, Ser Aerion arose, and slowly approached the table where King Jon and Queen Daenerys sat at. He bowed deeply before them, before rising up and speaking with the two what weighed upon his mind. 

“Your Graces, King and Queen, I want to thank you for the honor you have showed me, but I feel it necessary to speak up in the fact that I was only doing what any knight of the realm would have done. I am honored to have been able to faithfully carry out my duty before the Crown, and would like to continue to do so. Your Graces, if I may be permitted, would it be possible to arrange a meeting with the both of you, and your daughter, Princess Daenyra, to explain a few things, and ask a few things… if that is acceptable with you. Also, I thank you for returning the ancestral lands to my friend’s Ser Lorimer and Lady Cerenna. They are good people, and will never dare to let you down. You have shown them a great honor and compassion that will not soon be forgotten. Though, I humbly ask, that if the other members of the Band of Seven come back from their respective campaigns, they are rewarded before myself, as they are more deserving than me for their hopes and dreams to be fulfilled. I swore an oath to protect and defend the innocent of the realm, and I promise to never break that oath for as long as I serve the Iron Throne, your Graces. King Jon, Queen Daenerys, if anything is within my power, I will do so to see it completed to bring honor not only to my own name, but to that of your own names and stations. I represent you both in the field, as all your subjects do, and I can only hope that I do not bring dishonor unto you both.” Ser Aerion paused, smiling, and offering another bow, before speaking upon one last thing.

“I hope that a private meeting can be arranged, so that I may better explain my hopes and intentions to you, without the hustle and bustle of preparations interrupting us. I will go where you command, thank you, your Graces.” Ser Aerion bowed, awaiting a response if any, before making his way to the back of the room to converse with his compatriots.