AEMOND
Aemond pretended the dummy was the Strong.
He imagined how he would like to kill little Luke Strong, that arrogant, strutting bastard who had cut out Aemond's eye and then ran screaming behind his mother's skirts. The Strong's eyes should have been taken out by Aemond's father, but his father had listened to the Strong's lies as he wept and pouted. Luke Strong had kept both of his eyes.
"But I shall have better," Aemond cut his sword in the dummy's chest ,"I shall have his life." Luke Strong and his bastard brothers were traitors now, sons of a traitor princess.
As Aemond pulled his sword out and buried it in the dummy's stomach, he imagined riding Vhagar with Aegon's Sunfyre and Hel's Dreamfyre at his sides, burning Dragonstone to ashes like the Conqueror had done to Harrenhal. He smiled as he imagined the stones melting on Luke Strong's sneering face.
It would be even better if Luke Strong chose to face Aemond in the air, where Vhagar's great claws shall rip Strong's little dragon to shreds and throw the rider into the sea. Aemond closed his eyes as he pulled his sword out of the dummy again and cut across its chest, imagining that he was cutting across Strong's body as they rode against each other above the sea winds.
He pulled his sword back, ready to deliver the final blow to Strong's throat, when something hard bounced off the side of his helm. He did not see what hit him, for the hard object had come from his blind side. His head stung and burned as he fell shaking on the ground, clutching at the sapphire eye that had replaced his real one. The false eye hurt the most.
"Oops, sorry," he heard his sister's laughing voice somewhere in the distance.
"Ow," Aemond said as he rose nursing his head. He took his helm off, but the sting still remained,"Hel, you hit me."
"That was not me," Hel's face became clear in Aemond's view,"That was Jaehaerys."
Aemond put on his glare and looked beneath Hel's skirts, and there he was, the little monster. Jaehaerys, the heir to the Iron Throne. And Aemond's nephew who had only six years. Aemond gave up wearing his glare when the boy put on his innocent face, and smiled at his nephew's antics.
"What was that, Jay?" Aemond said, his fingers brushing the brown splotches that had remained on his helm,"I do not think it was a rock. A rock would not leave this."
His eyes looked upward, following Jaehaerys's hand where it lay under the bottom of the boy's dragon Shrykos.
Aemond put his hand to his head, then remembered what the hand had touched, "Hel, can you get some water please?"
"Of course, my dear brother," Hel said as she rushed off, laughing as she pulled up her skirts.
It was fortunate that Aemond's sister had left his nephew all to him. Aemond strode slowly up to his nephew where the boy curled up with Shrykos, and the one-eyed prince did his best to put on his angry face. The boy must learn that he was not to mess with Prince Aemond of the House Targaryen.
"Umm, Uncle Aem," Jaehaerys said as Aemond drew closer, his shadow towering over the boy,"Umm, leave, or I will have Shrykos burn you."
Aemond tried his best to contain his laughter, but the boy's frightened face and his dragon's equally surprised expression was too much. He was about to let it out when another voice rang through the yard.
"Prince Aemond," Ser Willis Fell of the Kingsguard said, and Aemond turned to face the old man with a greying beard and wrinkles next to his eyes.
"Ser Willis," Aemond answered.
"If Your Grace is done with tormenting little princes," Ser Willis said,"His Grace King Aegon has summoned you to a war council."
Aemond looked behind him, where Ser Rickard Thorne stood in the corner of the yard, keeping watch over Jaehaerys. He turned back to the Kingsguard,"Very well, Ser Willis. Lead the way."
There was a pungent smell in Maegor's Holdfast once one entered the halls. It was the rotting body of Aemond's father, revealing in the king's death the rot that had pooled within the king in his life. Aemond wished that a piece of this scent would remain in the Red Keep forever, and remind all the kings that came after of the horrible king who had decided to put the likes of Rhaenyra and Luke Strong in front of his trueborn sons.
Though Aemond also heard that the king had a change of heart before he died. That in his last moments, he repented of his errors and named Aegon the heir to the Iron Throne. It was still a long way before Aemond would forgive his father, but mayhaps his father had thought to redeem himself as he drew his final breath.
That would depend, Aemond decided, on whether his father's last will would make for Aegon to take the Iron Throne. Aemond remembered yestermorn as the dreadful sun rose after the king's death in the night. He picked through the armoury for plate and mail, ready to ride upon Vhagar against the city should they rise for Rhaenyra. Yet the Small Council had been true. The one false man, that old Beesbury, had been thrown in the black cells where he shall never see again the light of day.
"Is Aegon king?" he had asked Ser Willis Fell, ready to kill him should he say that he was Rhaenyra's man,"or must we kneel and kiss the old whore's cunny?"
"Aegon is king by the king's last will," Ser Willis said,"Late King Viserys, in his last moments on his deathbed, denounced his daughter and named Aegon his successor to the Iron Throne."
"Then all is well,' Aemond had sheathed his sword,"Leave me, and come back when Aegon orders me to ride for Dragonstone and bring him Rhaenyra's head."
"Do you know where King Aegon is?" Ser Willis had then asked Aemond,"We have been looking through the night for him."
"Do I look like I know where that whoremonger is?" Aemond asked, glaring at him,"Probably shaming my sister this very moment in the Street of Silk. Look there. Come back to me when Aegon orders me to ride for Dragonstone."
"Your mother the queen has summoned my prince," Ser Willis had said.
Aemond had glared at him,"Come back to me when Aegon orders me to ride for Dragonstone."
That had been the last time Ser Willis had appeared to Aemond, so mayhaps this time Aegon had truly summoned Aemond for them to ride for Dragonstone.
The Tower of the Hand was hot with the last and fiercest scorches of summer, so of course that was where Ser Otto Hightower, who was a Reach lord of the warm Oldtown, decided to hold the Small Council meetings. Aemond knew to take off his armour before entering the chamber, both out of courtesy and to not boil within that heat.
"Lord Beesbury was right about one matter," Ser Otto said,"Rhaenyra shall not sit meekly whilst the Iron Throne passes to King Aegon. She shall attempt to usurp it with dragons."
"Dragons," Aegon said softly, his mouth agape.
"Yes, my dear," Aemond's mother Queen Alicent stroked Aegon's sweating face,"Your vile sister shall attempt to usurp your rightful place."
"Mother," Prince Aemond greeted.
Queen Alicent turned to Aemond and glared,"Aemond. How nice of you to join us."
"We have at this moment three dragons of fighting strength," Lord Jasper answered Ser Otto as if he had not noticed Aemond,"King Aegon's Sunfyre, Prince Aemond's Vhagar, and Queen Helaena's Dreamfyre. Rhaenyra, even now, has twice that number. She has her own Syrax, Prince Daemon's Caraxes, Princess Rhaenys's Meleys, Prince Jacaerys's Vermax, Prince Lucerys's Arrax, and Prince Joffrey's Tyraxes."
"Do not call Rhaenyra's bastards princes, my lord," Queen Alicent said,"Rhaenyra's sons are bastards born of her wanton coupling with Harwin Strong."
"They still have their mother's blood, daughter," Ser Otto said to Queen Alicent,"The blood of the dragon, and they ride dragons. They still make Rhaenyra's strength double ours. Rhaenyra's strength could even triple ours if she finds riders for the riderless beasts on Dragonstone."
"We must write to Lord Ormund Hightower in Oldtown," Ser Tyland said,"and have him send Prince Daeron to us. With Prince Daeron and his dragon Tessarion, we may stand a chance."
"It shall not suffice," Ser Otto said,"They still far outnumber us." He turned to Grand Maester Orwyle,"Write my nephew Ormund anyway, for another dragon is still better than none. But tell Lord Ormund to raise the levies of Oldtown and march with them as well to King's Landing."
"Calling your banners shall mean war," Ser Tyland said,"Is my Lord Hand certain about this? If we shall do this, there is no coming back."
"No," Ser Otto said,"We shall raise the levies of Oldtown and of true men across the realm to show Rhaenyra that her cause is hopeless, that there is no hope in treason and that the wisest choice is to swear fealty to Aegon. We have time, time so long as the king's death is not known. Time to inform the lords of the realm of the true king before Rhaenyra."
"The ones who spoke for King Viserys at the Great Council are certain to be King Aegon's men," Lord Jasper said,"They are not the ones we should worry of. The ones we should address are the ones who spoke for Ser Laenor at the Great Council. Those who had favoured the female line at the council would most like favour one again."
"Aye," Ser Tyland agreed,"First amongst them is the Sea Snake. Lord Corlys's fleet is practically the whole of the Royal Fleet, and he shall most certainly declare for Rhaenyra. I do not see any point in a Master of Ships when the crown has no navy to boast of."
"Which is why you are Master of Coin now, Ser Tyland," Ser Otto said, then turned again to Grand Maester Orwyle,"But besides the Sea Snake, which lords had voted for Ser Laenor in the Great Council."
Orwyle consulted his records for a moment, then spoke:"Bar Emmon, Massey, Celtigar, Crabb. The Evenstar of Tarth."
"Minor lords," Ser Otto said,"that follow wherever the wind blows. Their words shall mean nothing. Which of the great lords voted for Ser Laenor?"
"Lord Boremund Baratheon," the Grand Maester said,"and Lord Benjen Stark. Stark's bannermen Roderick Dustin and Desmond Manderly had also supported the wolf lord."
"Neither can House Arryn be relied upon," Lord Jasper said,"Lady Jeyne Arryn rules the Eyrie, and her own rights might be called into question should Princess Rhaenyra be put aside."
"Arryn is far away," Ser Otto said,"and her knights are naught if we block the Bloody Gate. Lord Grover Tully had spoken for King Viserys at the Great Council and shall declare for King Aegon. Tully's Riverland men shall bottle up the Vale knights in the Mountains of the Moon. Stark is even further away, and by the time his men join, the war is like to be over." "The greatest danger, my lords," Ser Otto said,"is Storm's End, for House Baratheon had always been staunch in support of the claims of Princess Rhaenys and her children. Lord Boremund's son Borros is Lord of Storm's End now, and he is a fierce man who commands the fear of his bannermen. The lesser storm lords would surely follow wherever he led."
"Then we must see that he leads them to our king," Queen Alicent declared. She turned at last to Aemond,"Ser Willis, bring my second son forward."
Aemond shook off Ser Willis's hand and strode before the Small Council. He knew that they despised him, but he did not care. He had Vhagar, and dragons did not care for the whims of lesser men.
"My prince must ride upon Vhagar to Storm's End," Ser Otto said to Aemond,"and win Lord Baratheon to our cause. Your purpose is to win the hand of one of Lord Baratheon's daughters. Any of the four will do. Woo her and wed her, and Lord Borros will deliver the Stormlands for your brother. Fail…"
"I will not fail," Aemond blustered,"Aegon will have Storm's End, and I will have this girl."
And when I am done with her, Aemond swore, I shall ride for Dragonstone, and feed Luke Strong to Vhagar. An eye for an eye.