Aegor
Targaryen, Targaryen, Targaryen. Clad in red and donning a golden crown. Surrounding Aelor Targaryen were men in black— Aegor found many familiar faces within them. Arryn. Baratheon. Lannister. Nobles from various minor houses. The neutrality of the Night's Watch was not merely broken, but shattered. Sending the Targaryens to the Wall was not their fatal mistake, but extending this mercy to their supporters. Letting them take control of the Night's Watch.
They would not give the same mercy to him and Calla.
Aegor knew that it was a battle he could not win. Yet he had to fight, to grasp the chances of the Targaryen boy being cocky and blowing up his assault. For Calla, for House Blackfyre.
She was still breathing. He just needed time for the poison to wear off, and she would fight a way out. No army could stand against Crystal. No matter how worse the situation turned, she was their hope. Their only hope.
He just needed Calla to stay alive.
"I want them taken alive!" Aelor ordered from behind his wall of rebels. "Stark could be swayed to our side, and I want to question Blackfyre and Bittersteel!"
A faint cold smile came to the corner of Aegor's mouth. He knew what to do.
Aegor's resistance came to an end when he was disarmed. Grunting, he was quickly captured and tied up, his arms behind his back. Calla was taken from him, her body limp and unresponsive. "This is the woman that won the war for the Blackfyres?" Aegor heard one of the men muttering in disbelief. "This one is barely a girl!"
Fool. But in some ways, Aegor was glad that Calla did not look the part of a warrior— did not look like a grown woman. If she did, there was no doubt that she would be...
They dragged her in front of Aelor, holding her up like a sack of carrots. Hatred grew in the boy's eyes, but he looked away from her, unwilling to spare more than a glance. "Take her and Stark away and put them in the room for our most… important guests," he ordered. "Keep Blackfyre sedated and tell me if Stark is awake."
"With— is that wise, Your Grace?"
"Just do as I say."
—Keeping Calla sedated? The boy knows better than those idiots then. But that isn't enough, not nearly.
Aegor's fingers tightened around the ropes— those ropes that should be restraining him.
Should.
—Aelor has more experienced men, but those who came to treat me were greener than him.
They should have put Aegor in shackles, with careful watching eyes, but the victory made those men— no, boys truly, with their face full of acne and their limbs lanky and weak— careless. If they left him alone for just a while, he would be able to take off the ropes easily.
Then he could get to Calla. Perking up his ears, he tried to find out where she was taken to. How many "important guests'' did they have? Who else on the Wall was opposed to Aelor's takeover?
Yet there was no mention of that. He heard more bad news: the men that accompanied them had been all slaughtered or captured. They all fell for it, he thought, we led them all into a trap. The simple, shameless, desperate trap of a child and his bootlickers. But it worked.
However his guard was up, it was not enough to change the outcome. Calla was the key, and he had not prepared her for this. She was too inclined to trust what she saw.
But he would have time to reflect with her later.
"Take Bittersteel back to my office. I need to talk to him… alone," Aelor ordered, an excited grin on his face— almost like the smile of a child eager to unpack his nameday present, before turning bloodthirsty.
Aegor almost snorted. Bring it on, boy king.
—
Aegor was brought to the room he was in just a moment ago— the Lord Commander's chamber. The moment Aelor locked the door, the noise outside was cut off. He doesn't want his men to hear this, Aegor thought.
Aelor held Dark Sister in his hands, pacing around the room, shivering in excitement, his face flushed red. It was the face of someone who thought they had achieved their goal… someone who had just managed to clamber onto the peak… and about to fall off the cliff beyond.
Aegor would make his fall come as soon as possible.
"Happy, aren't you?" he asked, stopping Aelor in his tracks.
He glared at Aegor. "No. Not until I know." He pointed the sword straight at Aegor's face, the tip of Dark Sister a few steps away from his nose, "Where are my sisters? My mother?"
"King's Landing. It's no secret. Is that all you want to know?" Aegor's gaze was levelled. A child at the end, he thought, too emotional to know what matters more at this moment. "As I recall, you were there when we took them to the Sept. You should know about it already."
"They're still alive?" Uncontrollable joy spouted in Aelor's voice, before his eyes narrowed, "No, you would lie to me, knowing that this is what I want to hear. I want to know the truth."
Paranoid as well, Aegor thought, if he thinks clearly for a moment he'll know that it's pointless to kill the women but spare the men's lives. Did I really lose on the hand of such a fool?
...No, no, he isn't a fool. The concern for his family and the hatred he has towards us obstructed his mind, but he managed to keep his cool when facing Calla before. And when he sent those boys to tie me up…
He had a measure of him now.
Aelor was brave enough to go for this risky gambit and cynical enough to not give complete trust to his bootlickers. He was not a fool, but he was young and unstable. Emotionally vulnerable. Susceptible to manipulation.
...Aegor planned to exploit this weakness. With the only way he knew of.
—"Bitter his steel, worse his tongue", they said about me.
"What reason do I have to lie?" Aegor sneered, each word from his mouth sharp and malicious, "Listen carefully, Aelor Waters: I care not for failures like you and your kin. Those women were allowed to live in peace thanks to the mercy of King Aenys, but now you put their lives into jeopardy again. If anything happens to them, it'll be your own fault."
Growling, Aelor took a step forward. "You're not allowed to harm them. Nobody is allowed to harm them!" Taking a deep breath, he spent a moment to collect himself, "I… I have you and Calla Blackfyre in my hands. The usurper will surrender, or I'll push you both down from the top of the Wall." Gritting his teeth, he pulled out pieces of parchment and a pen from the Lord Commander's table, "Write a letter to him and tell him so, Bittersteel. If you agree, I'll untie you."
Aegor would love to keep taunting him, but this was so hilarious that he broke out laughing. "And these are your terms? 'Give me back my crown or I'll push your uncle and sister to their deaths'? Try to get better at negotiating, boy. That's not how you make an offer. Especially not to someone much more powerful than you."
"You—" Aelor's face flushed red in anger. "I'm serious! I'll kill you and your wife, just like how you killed my father! If you don't do as I say!"
The hatred made him irrational. Delusional. "I didn't kill Rhaegel. None of us did. Who would waste their effort to kill a poor, useless fool?"
Aegor could still recall the image of a young Rhaegel building a sandcastle on the training yard, in the middle of the day. Poor innocent Rhaegel, who never understood why it was bad to run around naked. Aegor did not want to harm him, but his heart had grown too hard to feel remorse about his unfortunate death.
Or perhaps he was always a bastard. Nothing less and nothing more.
"You did!" Aelor screamed, "Your wife did! The Blackfyres did! I always knew that this would happen! I told your wife— I told everyone I could think of— and yet nobody listened. The Night's Watch will have some way of sorting your father out, she said. Was there anything? Nothing! NOTHING but ridicule and abuse and neglect and..."
Shaking, a single tear dropped from Aelor's eyes. "You covered up executions with the pretence of mercy. You could have kept my father in the safety of King's Landing, but he was forced to come here and DIE! I'll make you pay. All of you. You'll die the pitiful death you deserve."
—If it was Calla who heard this, she would feel ashamed. She would feel sorry for him. She would break down and apologise.
It's for the best that she never hears of this, Aegor thought. He was here to shield her from from matters that would cause her distress. All the dirty dealings and cruelty.
It had been the case with Daemon when he was alive, and it was the case with Calla as well.
Aelor thought if he locked his heart up, he could get his revenge. But it was not enough, it was not nearly enough. Aegor learned that lesson aeons ago when he left Stone Hedge for King's Landing. His desire for vengeance only caused more suffering for whom he cared, and so would Aelor's.
Aelor was still panting, his face twisted as he glared at Aegor. He seemed to be barely holding himself from killing his hostage.
Just need a slight push, "Ha, an angry boy like you will never be able to achieve anything. You want to kill us, or do you want to be king? Aelor Waters, you're a deserter of the Night's Watch. All of Westeros is honour-bound to hunt you down. The moment you step out of your little kingdom, you're dead." Twist the knife. "We gave Rhaegel a chance to leave his little dreamland in the Red Keep. A chance to learn about the real world. As his son, you only have yourself to blame when you failed to help him through the transition."
"My father—" Aelor cried, his voice hoarse and on the edge of collapsing. His grip on Dark Sister tightened for a second, then he closed his eyes, waved a hand, and sighed, "I won't have you tarnish my memories with him. I didn't call you here to be insulted. I'll be king, and I'll save Aelora. Daenora. Mother. Westeros." The words came out more of a mumbling during the last few words. He must have told himself the same thing many times.
Aegor frowned slightly. Not bad, boy. You have more restraint than I imagined. "Westeros doesn't need a bastard to save her. She does not need saving."
"I'm not the bastard! You are!" Aelor protested, but a moment later a slight grin rose on his lips, "And you're wrong, Bittersteel. Westeros does need saving. The letter you received is no lie. The Lord Commander went missing in a Great Ranging… alongside most of his men. The few survivors reported a gigantic monster that devours anything that comes across its path." Placing both hands around Dark Sister's hilt, he proclaimed, "This is a sign. A monster has been awakened because House Targaryen has been usurped by the Blackfyres. I need to be king so that I can fix it."
—The letter is real?
Calla told him everything she had dreamed of. The Goddess that gave her Crystal, the warning she gave. Something was coming, and Calla was the only one that could defeat it. This was the reason why Aelor's trap managed to succeed. And now Aelor told him it was true… but he stupidly thought that a Targaryen king would fix it?
"You fool, you drugged the only person that could save Westeros," Aegor scolded, "You aren't the first royalty to be sent to the Watch, nor are you the first man to betray your vows and proclaim yourself king. You aren't anything special, but there's only one person who can wield Crystal! Who do you think you are, that you can save the world?"
"I'm the rightful king of Westeros, the true heir of House Targaryen! You lied and slandered against my grandfather, my heritage, but the truth is in everyone's heart. I have been bitterly humiliated and humbled. I have tempered and steeled myself. I have endured many great hardships. These years on the Wall… It made me stronger, and now I am able to face my challenges," gritting his teeth, Aelor hissed, "If anyone should be able to save the world and be king, it should be me. It's only just."
"To think that there's justice in this world is your folly. There's no justice, no rightful king, no rule to say hardship will be followed by greatness." This illusion is more fragile than glass. "Just take a look around you. Many of your fellow Black Brothers must be smallfolk. They lived lives of poverty before resorting to crimes, and were sentenced to remain in a frozen hellhole for the rest of their lives— which part of it makes you think you have it worse than everyone else? You had lived decades in the comforts of a prince. They haven't."
"But I'm a prince of the blood! They aren't. My suffering has meaning. And when I retake the Seven Kingdoms..." Aelor hesitated for a moment, "I'll reward those who follow me, highborn or lowborn, equally. I won't let their suffering go to waste either."
"How honourable of you," Aegor sneered. "Go! Tell those high lords outside of chambers that you planned to give them the same reward you will give a no-name, and see how they'll react."
Aelor widened his eyes. "I… I didn't mean…"
"See? It won't work, because the high lords are the ones who have a chance in rallying an army somewhere in Westeros. The smallfolk have no army waiting for them, no lords and knights assembling under their banners. Your Targaryen name makes you a banner for the ambitious to rally around— but you yourself don't have the power to save anyone, much less the world." Some sincerity slipped into Aegor's words as he sighed, "Nobody but Calla can. And she will need the Seven Kingdoms behind her, as well. Life isn't a song. Even if it is, you're not its hero."
Aelor fell silent. Half a minute later, he whispered, "No. I can't turn back now. This is the path I have chosen. I have to become a king, a hero, even if I'm not destined for it." Once again pointing Dark Sister towards Aegor, he ordered determinedly, "Tell me how did Calla Blackfyre obtain her magic sword. Tell me how to wield that power." Step by step, he walked closer to Aegor, "I'll cut off your limbs and hers, one by one, if that is what will make you talk."
The threat sounded entirely serious. But Aegor was not afraid. "Try me," he snarled.
Aelor gritted his teeth as he raised the blade.
At that moment, Aegor bounced upward with all the strength of his lower body. He released the part of the rope that he was holding, and when fibre met Valyrian steel— it broke instantly.
"What—" Aelor cried. Aegor rolled backwards, staying clear from the blade. He eyed Aelor carefully. He could not leave the room without a weapon... and a hostage.
Was it dangerous to fight an opponent that had Valyrian steel in hand while he had nothing? Definitely, but he had a better weapon than a sword. "Do you understand now, boy? You can't win. The only thing you can do is minimise the damage you would have caused. Drop your weapon, come with me and release Calla, and I'll make sure none of your kin is affected by your act of treason. I cannot offer more."
Aelor gripped the sword tightly, his eyes locked on Aegor's movements, his face green. "How did you— no, that doesn't matter! All your men are killed or captured by us, you can't possibly walk out of Castle Black alive!"
"If Calla remains sedated, NOBODY walks out of here alive!" Aegor shouted, wanting to strike fear into Aelor's mind, "There's no mention of such a monster in Westeros' history! If that monster is coming from beyond the Wall and killed your Lord Commander weeks before, then it must be very close to us already! You have to release her, or else—"
A deafening, inhuman sound. The ground shook. The sky outside of the window darkened.
Both men looked out of the window. That… thing, white, twisted, gigantic, even towering the Wall, covering the sun—
It was here. Outside the Wall.
"Where is she?" Aegor shouted, no longer fearing Aelor's blade, "Where did you put Calla?"
"She is…" shivering, the boy finally told him her whereabouts.
Aegor turned and rushed out of the room. "Wait!" Aelor called behind him, but Aegor did not care.
Hold on for a second, Calla. I'm coming for you.
