Aerion

"Finally, some time to ourselves. It's a tiring day," Daena yawned, sitting on the bed. Laying down on the pillow, she glanced at Aerion through half-closed eyes.

Aerion did not sit. He stared at her, his lips pursed. For the whole night, he struggled. It had been weeks since their son was born… since he learned that Daena had known his secret all along.

At first, he could not ask because she was sick. Then Aenys Blackfyre left, and Daena was appointed as his regent— a decision that shocked Aerion, but Daena accepted with grace. Her workload combined with the newborn, Aerion had not gotten a chance to talk to her.

But he had to. The Blackfyres' main force was up North. Bittersteel and Calla Blackfyre were there as well. Nothing was stopping him from getting the Iron Throne now. All he needed was to wait for Garlan Tyrell's promised army to arrive at King's Landing, pretending that they were gathered to join the war up north. He did not even have to lift a finger and the crown would fall into his lap.

That was why… he needed to know what Daena was thinking. Why did she hide it for him? Why did she never ask about his plan…?

But he lacked the courage to ask. As long as he closed his mouth, they could still pretend that neither of them knew anything… maintain the illusion.

Perhaps Daena did not want to break the illusion as well. Perhaps she loved him more than her family, and when he was king she would be his queen without complaint.

…He was not foolish enough to believe that. When that day Tyrell's army came, the last piece of facade between them would be ripped off, and everything would crumble and shatter. It was now or never.

"Daena," he asked, his eyes locked on her face, "Is there… nothing you want to say to me?"

Daena's gaze turned sharp, a dangerous fire lit in her irises— but as Aerion's breathing halted her eyes turned gentle again. "Nothing," she smiled, "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"

"I," Aerion said,

I'm sorry for hiding my plan. I just don't want to lose you.

…Was what he was supposed to say. But seeing her face, her knowing smile, the words stuck in his throat. As his courage deflated, his head heated up. How dare Daena pretended that she did not know, playing him like a fool and making him embarrass himself!

He was ready to confess. All he needed was for Daena to ask him, to—

"You're angry," Daena murmured, sitting up and reaching out for his face, her fingers caressing the knob between his knitted brows. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I don't want to talk to you."

Aerion's anger melted under her touch. When her gaze met him, the words unsaid flowed out from his mouth. "I just don't want to lose you. You're irreplaceable, Daena, and it's unbearable to think that I'm powerless to stop you from leaving me."

He would have that power if he became king. He would finally get the upper hand over her, and he would be in control…

Above any other reason, that was why he wanted the crown. He had not wanted to be king so badly when he was still a Targaryen prince, for he had already considered himself superior to all men. But it was not the same now. He was a powerless human… unable to keep her on his side.

He had once thought that he would become king even if Daena hated him, as long as he could keep her chained to him…

But it turned out that he could only have a chance to be king because she did not stop him. He would never get the upper hand… he could never capture her against her will.

Maybe some of those thoughts had reflected in his expression, for he saw Daena's eyes widen. Then she bit her lips, her smile turning wry, "Why would I want to leave you?"

Her voice was quiet, but it was trembling. Why do you look like you want to cry? Aerion thought, don't you know the answer all along?

"Because I'm Aerion Targaryen," he said, his words clear and slow, "Because of what I am, what I will always be." Prince Monstrous. The boy who killed his mother and tortured his brothers. The man who thought he was a dragon.

This was who he was. Not even Daena could change that.

Not even love could change that.

"I always know who you are, what you are, since the first day we met," Daena said softly, "I still fell in love with you all the same. I won't leave you because of that. A man cannot change his own nature— but he can change how he acts. Have you not proven that you're worthy of my trust? You haven't harmed anyone since you came back to King's Landing with me."

So that's what she thinks, Aerion thought with surprise, but Daena, you're completely wrong. "I would if I had the chance. You know that I wasn't permitted to bear arms in the Red Keep, and the Hedge Knight is always around."

"What about your brothers? Aemon and Aegon?" Daena's question made Aerion freeze. "That day when I gave birth to Viserys, it's them who hit you, wasn't it? It's two against one, but I would still expect you to fight back… yet you didn't. For whatever reason you have, you didn't choose vengeance. You took the better road, and that's more important than anything. You resisted the urge. You improved."

That wasn't it. You don't understand. I'm just waiting for a better chance.

—Or is it?

Was there not a moment, when I wished that I could have reconciled with my brothers?

Aerion felt that his brain was a mess. He found himself nodding under the pressure of Daena's gaze, "Maybe… I did."

Daena beamed at him. He could not say no to this face, those shining eyes full of joy. He could not let her know what he would do to Aegon should he get the chance…

"I thought a lot after… talking with Aenys," Daena smiled faintly, "It's so easy for anyone to make a mistake you can't recover from. And the fear makes everything worse. We're all so afraid of the consequences… We let the wound fester until it's too late."

She was talking nonsense, but Aerion did not interrupt her. Even if she was not talking about him, there was something in those words which resonated with Aerion.

"So I asked myself, am I doing all these because I'm afraid? Am I just waiting foolishly hoping that everything will be alright?" Daena looked into his eyes, and Aerion knew that her words were directed at him, "No, that isn't it. I trust you not because I'm delusional or tricked. I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing. I can see that— I can see that you're struggling. And that struggle is one you won't lose."

That struggle…

I don't even trust myself. How could she—

"Why," Aerion blurted out, "How can you be so certain?"

He would never guess her answer.

"Because you have me. You have the motivation to win." Daena leaned forward, the tips of their noses almost touched, "On the other road, what else could you see but ruins? It might be your nature to be attracted to blood and violence, but you know what's the best choice. You won't disappoint me."

—

And then, the day of fate came.

The door of the throne room was suddenly pushed open. It was in the middle of the day, and Daena was holding court. The moment Aerion saw those men in armour, he jumped up, his teeth clenched tight to stop him from shouting. The Hedge Knight glared at Aerion, "You really did it…" he whispered, his words full of disdain.

But Duncan was the only person paying attention to Aerion. He was far from the only one who stood up: For a moment shouts filled the room and swords were raised, but Daena's command rang clear in everyone's ears. "Stay down!" she roared, gesturing to her kingsguards. Garlan Tyrell and his soldiers stopped advancing as well. He watched Daena's action with keen interest, the gleam in his eyes predatory. Aerion did not like that. It reminded him of his own eyes.

"Ser Garlan, why do you lead the soldiers of the Reach right into my court?" Daena questioned with a stern voice, her brows drawn together, "I have commanded you to take the men and join my brother's army up north. It's treasonous to barge into the throne room without my permission."

"Princess," Tyrell smiled, "I'm afraid that you're the one committing treason. The throne doesn't belong to you but to our rightful king. If you recognise your mistake and surrender peacefully, your life shall be spared."

Daena's lips pursed. "Do you really believe that you can get away with staging a palace coup in the middle of the day, ser? When the rest of the realm hears—"

"—The dust would have settled, and the majority of your army would be dead up north," Tyrell rebuked with a smirk, "I haven't spent my days in King's Landing idling, my lady. I know the situation we're facing very well."

Daena sneered, "That only means you aren't just an oathbreaker, but a thoughtless fool as well. Fine— I shall play this out." Rising from the Iron Throne, she held her hands up, "I, Daena Blackfyre, Princess Regent to the Iron Throne, do hereby surrender to Ser Garlan Tyrell."

Aerion's mouth fell open as Daena slowly descended the steps of the Iron Throne. She held her head high as if she was the one who was accepting Tyrell's surrender, and she never spared a glance towards Aerion. This was impossible. She would not accept defeat without a fight. Sweat wet Aerion's clenched fists. Should he act now? Or…

But events moved without his intervention. "Princess Daena!" a knight of the kingsguards knelt right in front of the Iron Throne, his shoulders trembling, "We shouldn't give up now, King Aenys and Princess Calla are still out there, and my house would give all their strength to put those traitors down—"

"Ser Robb, you'll listen to my orders and stand aside now!" Daena glared at the knight, his head lowered and his grizzled red hair shaking. Aerion recognised him. He had stood guard outside of Daena's chambers the day Viserys was born.

"You can't let that man mess with your head!" the knight screamed, pointing at— Aerion, "He won't spare you just because you're his wife! I watched you grow up, Daena, how can I let you give yourself away to that monster? What would your father say if he knew—"

"Enough!" Daena's face was red with anger. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she put her hands on the knight's shoulders and pulled him up, then pushed him aside. Aerion could not believe that Daena had the strength to move a knight in full-plated armour, but perhaps he was just out of it— The knight looked dazed, his gaze moved between Daena's and Aerion's faces with nothing but astonishment.

Aerion did not look back towards the knight, his gaze focused on Daena. Tyrell stepped forward, ordering his soldiers to detain her. Daena's expression was cold, her eyes determined.

I can't let them touch her, Aerion thought instinctively. Walking towards Daena, he saw that she had put her hands down, and those soldiers reached for her—

A wicked smile grew on Daena's face. "Ha. As if!" An angry scream echoed in the room. Aerion saw a flash of silver— it was Daena's dagger, drawing an arc of blood in the air…

Chaos spread as brawls occurred throughout the throne room. The knights of the Kingsguard had taken their princess' action as permission to attack Tyrell's army. Aerion knew he could not stand idle. What should he do now? The Hedge Knight was still staying close to him, but—

"Aerion!" Daena shouted, slashing her dagger towards her enemy's face and narrowly avoiding another soldier's attack, "The children!"

Aerion nodded sharply. Daena's dress was torn in several places, but she seemed to be unharmed. Rohanne and Viserys… had the Tyrells gotten into Maegor Holdfast yet…?

Behind him, he could hear the desperation in Daena's voice. We don't have time. Aerion turned and ran, shouting, "Hedge Knight, you—"

"Your Grace, you don't have to worry," but Tyrell was right in front of him, smirking, "We've secured Maegor— I have a lot of friends in the ranks of the Crystal Knights and they're eager to help. The resistance Princess Daena put up is unexpected, but she can't hold out for long. We far outnumber the Blackfyres, after all."

"You have my children?!" Aerion felt the blood drain from his face.

Tyrell's smile deepened. "Of course. Securing your heirs is of the most importance, no? I have sent men to retrieve your brothers as well. They should be back soon."

Aemon and Aegon… this man thinks he has everything in control. Aerion forced out a smile, he could not lose his composure right now— but Tyrell had caught onto his brief panic. Leaning close to Aerion, he whispered, "Where are you going, Your Grace? Can it be that…" his voice was so low that only Aerion could hear, "You got cold feet? You must know that if you abandon your crown now, Blackfyre loyalists will still hunt you down. You're safe here… when you're king under my protection."

Aerion shivered. In other words, I'll die if I leave him. Pushing the knight aside, he barked, "Don't be ridiculous, Tyrell! I'm going to see my children. You said you have them. Where are they now?"

"About that…" Tyrell stepped away from Aerion and glanced at the doorway. "They have just arrived."

Aerion's eyes widened. There, two soldiers were holding up a child, who was screaming and kicking and biting with all her strength— Rohanne! And behind them, that cry was from…

"Rohanne! Viserys!" Aerion heard Daena cry— and when he turned to look at her, he saw that her dagger was snatched from her—

And then, in a few moments, the dust settled. Daena was disarmed and restrained, her eyes glued on Rohanne and Viserys. Rohanne stared back at her mother, biting her lips to stop herself from welling up. Viserys' cries echoed in the halls.

Daena's loyal kingsguards had surrendered when their princess was tied up. They glared at Aerion with a burning hatred. Similarly, Aemon and Aegon, who had arrived at the same time as his children, looked at Aerion with a mixture of hate and disbelief. They were not restrained, but the soldiers surrounding them made clear that they did not come voluntarily.

Aerion's eyes met Aegon's. He was gritting his teeth, his face twisted in such a way that made clear his burning desire to kill Aerion.

Glare all you want, useless boy, you only have yourself to blame for being captured! Aerion wanted to scream at him. He could not care about Aegon now. He turned towards Daena and ordered, "Let her go."

"Your Grace—"

"She's my wife! YOUR QUEEN!" Aerion shouted and glared at Tyrell. If you're going to make me king, then you'll need to obey my orders. "Tell your soldiers to take their hands off her," Aerion added coldly.

"Stand aside, men of the Reach," Tyrell said lazily.

They did, although reluctantly. One of them had to be pulled away by his peers, scolding loudly and one hand covering his face— it seemed that Daena had taken his eyes out.

She's tougher than I had imagined, Aerion thought when he approached her. Daena's dress was torn and there were multiple cuts over her body— although Aerion's eyebrows rose when he saw the chainmail she wore beneath her dress.

"Of course I'll be prepared, I'm not stupid," Daena said haughtily. She held her head high, refusing to meet Aerion's gaze… no, Aerion noticed, her gaze was still locked on Rohanne. His daughter looked back at them, a message he could not read flicking in her eyes. Daena's chin moved slightly.

Aerion's eyes narrowed. Should he check on Rohanne first? But Daena… he started working on her arms, tied behind her back. The ropes were tight. "Give me her dagger!" he shouted at Tyrell, standing just a few steps from Aerion and watching his actions closely. In his hands was Daena's dagger— Aerion saw a soldier handed it to him just moments ago.

Tyrell tapped the blade lightly, "Here," but when Aerion reached out to take it he retreated his hand, his eyes widened, "But Your Grace, you aren't going to give it back to her, are you? She's no meek princess, this one has seriously injured three of my men! If she gets to arm herself again, I'm afraid that they might be unable to control their anger—"

A large pair of hands forcefully snatched the dagger from Tyrell's fingers. Tyrell yelped and jumped away, pulling out his sword— but Duncan had returned to Aerion's side and threw the dagger into Aerion's hands. "You dare?" Tyrell hissed, "You're just a hedge knight!"

"He— he's following my order, your king's order, as my bodyguard," Aerion said, trying his best to hide his shock towards Duncan's action, "And you've overstepped, Garlan Tyrell."

Something cold sparked in Tyrell's eyes, but he bowed and stepped back nonetheless. Aerion glanced at Duncan when he went to release Daena, and the huge knight frowned and mumbled, "I'm not helping you. Just Princess Daena."

Aerion nodded. Of course. Standing behind Daena, he whispered in her ears as he cut the ropes, "I'll get the children back."

"And then what?" she asked, her voice barely auditable, "What will you do, Aerion?"

Aerion went silent. The situation quickly went out of control. He had thought that he would be able to keep Daena and the children safe… but Tyrell was more dangerous than he had expected. He had control of the army, and if Aerion did something he did not like… would he kill Aerion and make Aemon or Aegon king? Or Viserys?

The clever thing to do would be to go along with Tyrell for now…

"I still trust you, Aerion," Daena whispered.

When their eyes met, he saw— he saw—

The truth.

He looked away from her as if her gaze burned him. He could hear his blood rushing in his head, filling his brain. A thousand memories flickered in his head. His childhood in Summerhall, the deeds he had done, meeting Daena, the days he spent with her and the children, the love she had given him…

When they converged, one thought lit up like fire.

That's enough. You gave me what I wanted my whole life. And I…

I won't let you slip away from me. I won't let you go.

"…Time for you to know your place, woman," He turned away from Daena, "You stay with Ser Duncan and don't try anything," he said in the most dismissive tone possible, "And I'll be taking this." He waved the dagger in his hand.

Daena snorted, crossing her newly-freed arms. Does she know— no, she must know. She must understand.

Because she trusts me.

The thought encouraged Aerion, and he walked towards Rohanne and Viserys without looking back. "You're restraining the Prince and Princess of Dragonstone. The blood of the dragon," he commanded the soldiers, "Release them at this instance!"

Perhaps they did recognise him as king, or perhaps Tyrell had instructed them, but they did as they were told. Viserys was moved into Aerion's arms, and Rohanne's feet were allowed to touch the floor. The moment she was freed, she ran towards Aerion and hugged his legs, "Father!"

"Shh, Rohanne, you'll be fine," Aerion leaned down to comfort her, carefully avoiding dropping her brother— then Aerion felt it. Inside her thick, layered dress, there was something hard… something made of metal.

He pulled it out, moving his back to cover them so that others could not see what he was doing. And it was…

Daena's… dagger?

As he looked at the dagger, confused, Rohanne's swollen eyes produced a wink. "Mother told me to keep it on me, but hide it until I can give it to you."

"But… I already have one," Aerion murmured, frowning. Was the one he got a fake? But what was the point? Real or not, it was just a dagger…

"Because they're a pair, for a mother and a daughter!" Rohanne said, smiling, the fear she had before forgotten, "They're exactly the same, Mother said, and she'll teach me how to use it later…"

At that moment, Aerion's mind turned. Tyrell knew that he had Daena's dagger… but he did not know that there were two. No one knew. And if Aerion gave it away—

Then Tyrell would believe that he was unharmed. Harmless.

But Tyrell still had his sword. He was fully armoured. How could Aerion hope to threaten him with a mere dagger?

He thought of the Hedge Knight… Ser Duncan. But he needed someone to stay with Daena and the children. Those kingsguards of hers had been disarmed, and the only one bearing a sword in the room who Aerion could rely on was Duncan…

—Even if the weapon is inferior, if I have the number and element of surprise…

Aerion gritted his teeth. So it had come to this.

"Come, Rohanne," quickly pocketing the dagger, he gestured towards her, "Stay with your mother for a while."

Small legs raced to follow and instantly surpassed him. Rohanne jumped into Daena's open arms, "Mother!"

Daena cooed her, burying her head in Rohanne's hair. When she raised her head and looked at Aerion, he knew that Rohanne told her that he had taken the dagger.

"Take him," Aerion said, putting Viserys into Daena's recently emptied arms, "You're his mother, so be useful and get him to stop crying. I still have important things to do."

Daena glared at him for a moment, then turned her face away. Aerion could only believe that she got his true intention. He glanced at Duncan, "Protect my family."

"I will," Duncan said, his lips twisted unhappily, seemingly stopping himself from adding more remarks. Nervous built up inside Aerion, yet he had no choice but to trust that Duncan would do his job. Rohanne liked him so much… Aerion hoped his trust was not misplaced.

He walked towards Aemon and Aegon, wrecking his brain. How could he convince them to help him under so many pairs of watching eyes?

Aemon narrowed his eyes as Aerion approached, his lips pursed and his head tilted as if solving a particularly hard question. Aegon clenched his fists, his face flushed and his lower lip trembling.

After so long, you still haven't learned to control your emotions? Aerion thought with disdain, the thought disappeared as soon as it came. He must say something. "Now that I'm king," he started, his words slow and deliberate, "It's time that you two pay your proper respect to me."

None of them made any noise. Aegon was still glaring at him, preparing to bite his head off. Aemon's eyes locked on Aerion's face, awaiting his next words.

"You two always hate me. Despise me." Aerion raised his voice when he still did not receive an answer, "Tell me! Is that right?"

"We're afraid of you, Aerion," Aemon sighed, "We all are."

"Afraid? You better be afraid of me, Aemon. I'm the king now," Aerion smiled coldly, "But today's a joyful day, so you're forgiven. Tell me, do you still want to go back to the Citadel? I'll need a new grand maester. Can't use one that has served the Blackfyres, traitorous rat… Speaking of which," Aerion turned around to scream, "Tyrell! Send someone to arrest the Grand Maester!"

"This has been done, Your Grace," Tyrell replied, "And other small council members as well. They'll be brought to you and await your judgement as soon as they're caught."

Frustration grew in Aerion's heart. He had wanted to lure a portion of the soldiers away from the throne room, but Tyrell had thought one step further than him. Hearing that there were more men in the Red Keep troubled him. How many people did he have to defeat to win?

Don't be afraid, he told himself. When Aerion turned towards his brothers, Aemon was mumbling, "The Conclave chose the Grand Maester, not the Iron Throne… Fine, fine," under Aerion's glare, Aemon raised his hands in surrender, "I'll be grateful for whatever position you want to put me into, Your Grace."

Hearing Aemon's emphasis on the last two words, Aerion sneered. Turning his focus to his youngest brother, he taunted, "See? A wise man submits to circumstances, Aegon."

Aegon hissed, but no words formed. Aerion briefly wondered if he was too angry to speak, or if he was afraid that his words would cost his life. For one second a feeling of victory overwhelmed Aerion, and he laughed— but then he remembered what he must do. "I won't give you a seat in my small council," he added with a mocking smile.

"I don't want it." Oh, now he talked. Aegon panted heavily as if he had participated in the earlier fight, flames shooting through his eyes.

"What, you miss the frozen Wall? I'm happy to send you back there… but it's gone," Aerion stepped closer to Aegon, making sure that his words were clear, "You're going to be a good boy and stay quiet, or else I'm going to send you to the Sept to accompany Rhae and Daella… or even better, Silent Sisters," he waved the dagger near Aegon's face, "You think they'll let you join after I unman you?"

Aegon let out a murderous roar, and the next moment the only thing Aerion could see was the dagger's blade, so close that it reflected his eyes. Attempting to take the dagger from him, Aegon jumped onto Aerion, throwing him to the ground.

Aerion felt the pain spreading from his back to his whole body. He held the dagger's handle tight, knowing that Aegon would stab it right into his face if he took it. "Help me!" he whispered, "Help me defeat Tyrell. I'll attack him— help me to disarm him."

Aegon's hands stopped moving. Violet eyes stared at Aerion above the dagger, their fury replaced by bewilderment.

"Please," Aerion begged, "For the children, at least…"

Aerion thought that he saw Aegon nod, but he could not be sure, because he was pulled away from Aerion immediately. Soldiers surrounded Aegon, holding onto his arms. Taking a deep breath, Aerion stood back up and glanced at Aegon coldly, "Try to attack me again, and you'll lose all of your limbs. Do you understand?"

Aegon's lips twisted, but he nodded, most of the fire in his eyes had perished. Good. Now that he would need to give away the dagger in public, and give Aegon a chance to talk with Aemon…

Sneering, Aerion dropped the dagger into Aemon's palms. "Reward for not helping Aegon. Daena told me that it used to belong to her Tyrosh mother, and it's the only one of its kind. Use it to open letters or something… also, see to Aegon and clean any wound he has," he sneered, "I'm a merciful king."

Aemon nodded, his face expressionless, "By your order, Your Grace." He bowed, as if he was the real Grand Maester, and walked towards Aegon. Under his gaze, the soldiers released Aegon, and he started checking him— close enough to exchange a few whispers.

Perhaps Aemon knows already, Aerion thought, he's the shrewd one.

"Your Grace," Tyrell had come to stand beside Aerion, his voice making Aerion grit his teeth, "Prince Aegon—"

"He's still a Targaryen, and he'll be treated with the respect he deserves inside the Red Keep," Aerion quickly said. He could feel his heartbeat increasing. Time, he still needed more time to prepare… "I suppose it's time to talk about your reward, Ser Garlan. I'll need a Hand of the King…"

Tyrell's eyes lit up, "I'll be honoured, Your Grace." His attention was on Aerion, seemingly waiting for him to continue speaking.

"Is there anything else you want?" Aerion asked.

Tyrell's eyes wandered for a moment, "The Reach," he lowered his voice, "You'll support my claim to the Reach, once I return home."

Aerion had nearly forgotten. Garlan Tyrell was not his father's heir, but his second son. His elder brother was dead, but he had left a son, Garlan's nephew.

"Leo Longthorn will let you take his seat?" Aerion questioned, his gaze wandering across the hall— he tried not to spend too much time looking at Daena and the children, or Aemon and Aegon. Aerion's brothers had moved away from the soldiers, glancing at him, leaning their backs on a pillar in the middle of the throne room. Aerion frowned. He would need to walk closer to them.

When Aerion started to move, Tyrell followed, eager to answer his question. "My father is no longer the man he once was, ever since his perfect heir died in the spring and we lost the war against the Blackfyres… he has become weak," Tyrell paused, a mix of emotions flashing through his face, "He'll be surprised by what I have managed to achieve. When he sees the Hand's badge on me, he'll have no choice but to change his mind. You understand how it is, Your Grace."

"Ah, I do," Aerion said, his heart pounding. They were close… but not yet. "As long as you have complete control over this army, they'll have no choice but to bend the knee. Highgarden is yours."

"Oh, they obey my orders completely," Tyrell whispered, his voice trembling in excitement, "I control Highgarden's treasury, and—"

"That's perfect," Aerion cut him off, stopping abruptly on his track, "I was afraid that they wouldn't care about your life."

Tyrell attempted to turn around, but Aerion had pulled his dagger out and shouted, "Now!"

Aerion heard the sound of footsteps, but he had not had the chance to look at Aemon or Aegon. Putting one arm around Tyrell's body, he was trying to restrain him before he could pull out his sword— but Tyrell was stronger than him, his elbows pushing Aerion away, and Aerion's arm holding the dagger could not reach his neck—

Then Tyrell cried out in pain, and Aerion suddenly found Aegon's face staring at him beyond Tyrell's shoulders, blood on his lips… and Aegon was holding Tyrell's sword. Judging by Tyrell's bleeding hand, it seemed that Aegon had given Tyrell a large bite to snatch his sword.

Soldiers surrounded them, but the Targaryen brothers had put their weapons near Tyrell's neck. "Back off!" Aerion shouted with all his strength, "Back off and drop your weapons, or else Tyrell is going to die!"

A circle formed around Aerion. The soldiers did not dare to approach them, but they did not surrender their weapons either. Aerion's gaze moved towards Daena— next to the Iron Throne, she and the children were protected by Duncan. Unmistakably, Aerion saw her smiling, tears in her eyes.

Aerion felt joy leap in his chest, but they were not safe yet. "I said, disarm!"

"Ask Ser Garlan to command them, brother," Aemon said, carefully eying the soldiers while searching Tyrell's body for hidden weapons. The dagger Aerion gave him was still in his hands, "Otherwise they won't dare."

Aerion brought Daena's dagger close to Tyrell's neck, the cold metal of its blade touching his skin. Tyrell's eyes widened, "Why are you doing this, Aerion Targaryen? We have succeeded! I'm making you king! KING OF THE IRON THRONE! What else could be better than that?"

What else? Aerion had the answer. He had the answer all along. "Daena."

"For a woman? For a woman whom you get to keep anyway?" Tyrell growled, his face twisted, "When you're king, you can have whatever woman you desire!"

"No," Aerion shook his head, "If I follow you, I'll lose her forever. This is the only way."

Aerion could see the astonishment, not only from Tyrell but Aegon and Aemon as well. Even if they were helping him, it was still unbelievable to hear those words from his mouth. Aerion felt the corners of his mouth lift.

No one ever thought a man like him would give up power. No one would believe that he would care for anyone but himself.

No one, but Daena. And he would fulfil the expectations of those misty eyes staring at him.

"Tell your soldiers to disarm," Aerion ordered, drawing the dagger against Tyrell's neck, "Now." Blood painted the blade red.

Tyrell inhaled sharply, "Drop down your swords!"

Just moments after the soldiers started to follow his order, another army strode into the throne room, followed by the missing small council members. "Princess Daena!" the knight leading the army cried, "The rebels—" he paused when he saw the room of soldiers disarming.

"Ser Titus, your timing is remarkable. Garlan Tyrell has just ordered his army to surrender, so please find a place for them," Daena ordered.

"Of… of course! By your order, princess!" the surprised knight nodded, and his army got to work. Just after Aerion released Tyrell, he saw Daena leaving the children to Ser Duncan, ignoring the small council members who wanted to talk to her and ran to Aerion's side.

"You did it!" she cried, hugging him. Aerion returned her hug, feeling her warmth engulfing him. He did it. He had won her trust.

…But, wait.

"You have gathered an army?" he asked after they were separated, frowning, "You know that Tyrell is going to attack today?"

Daena shrugged, "I don't know his precise plan, but he has to make a move before I get suspicious of him."

"And the army— when did you gather an army?" Aerion pointed at the soldiers surrounding them, who were wearing Yronwood's black portcullis, Reyne's red lion, Peake's three castles and many other minor houses, "Didn't your brother take all the men he could to the North?"

"Many houses aren't willing to send their small folks on a quest chasing a 'myth'," Daena pouted slightly, "But on fighting real rebels… they can see the benefits of joining."

"So everything I did is pointless?" Aerion asked wryly. In some way, he felt that it was a foolish question. Daena knew that Tyrell was going to rebel. Of course, she was going to be prepared.

"Of course not! You made an important choice. You tried to save me and our children… you gave up the Iron Throne for us." Holding Aerion's hands, Daena smiled sweetly, "I'm… touched."

Aerion had not felt so happy in his whole life. What if he was a monster? What if he had done monstrous things? What if he was hated, and no one else trusted him?

He could not change who he was, but that was fine. As long as he had her, as long as he still cared about her… he could act like a good man. He could resist. He could give up those desires that plagued him.

He might not deserve this miracle, but he was happy… he was loved.

"I gave up the Iron Throne, so you need to make it up for me," he teased.

"In your dreams," she laughed.

And that was the best feeling in the world.