Aegor

Aegor waited at the harbour, the cold wind brushing against his cheeks. It was merely a few hours into the new day, and the sky was pitch black. No moonlight or stars to be found in this dreadful night, the night where treasonous acts occurred…

But it would end soon. Out from the River Gate came a lone man dressed in the goldcloaks' armour, his pace fretful. About time. Everything is going to plan, Aegor thought as he listened to the boy's uneven footsteps, the only thing left is to get him on the ship and pretend to have caught the traitor.

As far as the world knew, Aelor Waters, Targaryen Prince and claimant to the Iron Throne would die today. The truth did not matter to all but those involved. Sighing, watching the white smoke from his breath rising in the air, Aegor gestured and called out, "Boy. Aelor. Come here."

The creaking of Aelor's off-sized armour stopped as he froze. Behind his helmet, Aelor's breathing was frenetic. "No," a whimper escaped his lips, "No!" louder, almost a shout— but not yet. Perhaps he knew that attracting more attention to himself would only hinder his escape.

"Peace, boy. I'll let you go," Aegor said calmly as Aelor started to walk backwards, almost tripping himself in the process. "I'm here to take you out of King's Landing."

"Into the Seven Hells, you mean?" Aelor did not believe him in the slightest. Turning his head, clearly fearful of hidden enemies, he limped backwards, growling. "She was one thing, but I won't believe you, Bittersteel—"

"I'm sending you to Dragonstone," Aegor said, "Your old home. You might not know, but I have just returned from there. Everything is arranged. If you hop on the ship, you will live out the rest of your life in safety, your past forgotten. None shall seek your death."

Aelor paused, holding his breath. "Why would you help me?"

Why? Briefly breaking his cold, unemotional mask, Aegor could not help but smile wryly. He doesn't understand us. "Calla."

Was this not the most compelling reason one could hold? To help the woman he loved? To protect her from suffering?

He had a duty to House Blackfyre, to the realm, but Calla's wellbeing was no less his duty and his heart's desire. Daena's plan enabled him to achieve both of his goals, and for that Aegor was thankful for her wits.

Yet there was one thing. One thing he knew that Calla would not approve. Which was why he must wait here himself… just so he could talk to Aelor.

Aelor sighed, apparently having accepted his answer. He approached Aegor reluctantly, still wary of his intention.

"Disarm," Aegor ordered, "You have no more use for a goldcloak's armour now. I'll return them to their rightful owner later."

Aelor's teeth clenched. "If you're planning to kill me here, I suppose I have nowhere to run," sighing, he removed his helmet. Aegor examined his features, as a final confirmation. There was a slight hint of his Arryn heritage here and here, but he was still overwhelmingly Valyrian, just as Aegor remembered. Good. This would suffice.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Aelor asked, turning his face away to avoid his gaze.

"To ensure that I can offer you a choice to live." Aegor turned to nod at the ship, beckoning that person to come out. Aelor would understand once they saw each other.

"You said you would let me live!" Aelor jumped back, prepared to escape.

Aegor snorted, "Boy, you just said yourself that you have nowhere to run if I wish to kill you. I plan to give you a chance to escape, to board this ship to Dragonstone. But you need to understand the consequences of your actions."

"What of it but have the Blackfyres lost some faces?" Aelor huffed, "I was worried about your wife, but she would hardly be punished if you were involved as well, Bittersteel."

"Lost face?" Aegor looked at him coldly. "Fool, as the Hand of the King I would never allow this to happen. You can live, but Aelor Waters, turncoat and pretender of the Iron Throne, must die today."

"I don't—" Aelor stopped when that person came and stood beside Aegor. "Who is this?"

"Take off your hood so he can see your face," Aegor commanded.

"Yes, milord," the boy obeyed. The lantern barely illuminated his face, but it should be enough for Aelor to see.

The moment Aelor saw his silver hair and violet eyes, he gasped. "He's…"

"Your double," Aegor said, "A dragonseed who lives on Dragonstone. He has agreed to die in your place… for enough gold to feed his whole family for decades."

"This is absurd," Aelor pointed at his double's face, making the peasant boy tremble, "He has Valyrian features which resemble mine, true, but he doesn't look exactly the same as me. This won't fool anyone."

"Perhaps. But who will suggest that it's not you who we are executing?" This was the key to Daena's plan, the part where she must convince him of its feasibility. "Your family? They'll be happy to see that it isn't you who dies. My small council members? They won't contradict the words of the King and his Hand. Your execution will be in private, and no one else will challenge us as long as it ended with a Valyrian-looking head rolling on the ground. Once it ends up on a spike, who can tell that it isn't yours?"

In the end, it was the same reason House Blackfyre managed to sit on the Iron Throne now. It did not matter what the truth was, only what people believed was true. And people would believe whatever was convenient for them.

But does that mean I'll just end up repeating the same mistake? The same that got Daemon killed?

…No, because he was giving him a choice, now. He was telling him the truth.

Daemon never had any choice but to fall for his promise of justice and glory. If Aelor chose this road, it was his own choice. Same with the dragonseed.

Aegor merely gave them a choice.

"Then why bother executing me… executing anyone at all?" Aelor asked tiredly, "Why not just lie and tell the world that I'm dead?"

"That's stretching a lie too thin. We won't get a dead Valyrian body on display, which would be the proof most people require," Aegor said plainly, "Someone needs to die for this. The question is, who?"

"And you will let me choose?" Aelor asked, clenching his fists. Aegor could not fathom the source of his anger. He was given a choice… to live. This was more than what most had gotten.

"Yes," Aegor replied, "Calla saw something in you that I don't. Despite what you have done, she thinks you deserve to live. So choose, and choose well. You won't get another chance."

"This…" Aelor's face twisted, his frightened eyes glared at Aegor, "…is a trap. Blackfyre wants to save me, that's true, but you want me dead. You despise me."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Aegor offered him a thin smile. Gods, he felt himself turning into Brynden, quipping and scaring children. Unlike when it was back at the Wall, there was no need for him to irritate Aelor. Sighing, he shook his head lightly, "You were a fool, Aelor Waters, yet you did save my wife. Consider this a repayment."

Aelor's gaze wavered uncertainly. "Blackfyre doesn't know about this part of the plan, does she? About you, about sending a double in my place?"

"She doesn't," Aegor confirmed, "And if you choose to die instead, she might never know." But it would never happen. Who would choose death when they get to live when the price is only to sacrifice an insignificant stranger?

The choice was given, but Aegor never for once imagined Aelor would choose to die. It was against human nature to do so.

Only someone truly noble… would be able to resist the instinct to live.

Aelor bit his lips. Eying his double, he asked, "If I go back to be executed, what would happen to him?"

"Then he gets to go home," Aegor said.

Upon his words, the young dragonseed rose his head, his eyes widened. "No, milord, please don't! My mother… my sisters… they need the money!" In a sobbing tone, he begged, almost to the degree of kneeling to the ground. It was a disheartening sight.

"Of course you keep the gold, in that case," Aegor quickly added. He did not plan to be stingy.

"Mother and sisters…?" Aelor, meanwhile, found an interesting detail in his double's background. "You're doing this for your mother and sisters?"

"Yes, my— milord," the dragonseed answered, "My mother is sick and my sisters are young. We cannot pay for our living if not for the Lord Hand…"

"I see…" Aelor's gaze moved to Aegor with a question in his eyes.

Aegor shrugged, "It's merely a coincidence." finding that the most suitable candidate for Aelor's double had the same family members as the original… It was ironic, he supposed.

It meant that when they died, it would create the same amount of grief. Including Calla.

She did not want Aelor to die, but she would not want his double to die, either. If she saw Aelor as someone innocent, then this young dragonseed would be more than that— he was a victim.

But at least, by dying in place of Aelor, he would have saved his family. Some good was done as a result of Calla's struggle. People who would die otherwise are saved because of you.

…At least, this was what Aegor was planning to tell Calla, yet—

"I'll go back to be executed," Aelor said, "I can't let someone else die in my place."

What?

Aegor stared at Aelor. The boy was trembling, his fists shaking, his eyes full of fear… but he did not take back his words.

He would die when given the chance to live.

"Why?" the question came out of Aegor's mouth naturally. Aelor should not have chosen that. He was just a cowardly boy who begged to live even when he had committed a crime punishable by death. A crime that might have taken away humanity's chances…

"I'm not letting someone innocent die in my place again!" Aelor shouted, "I let my sworn brothers die for my ambition. Your wife— Calla Blackfyre— she didn't save me so that someone else dies. Back at Castle Black, you told me I couldn't be a hero," at this point tears had filled his eyes, "But I can be, now. I can allow a boy to go back to his family. I can die, not to be a political sacrifice, but to save someone's life."

He was afraid of death, so much that he was sobbing, but he still stood his ground and claimed himself a hero. He wanted to reclaim his value and fight his guilt… so much that he was willing to die for it.

…Calla's influence, mayhaps.

Aegor wanted to scorn the boy for his foolishness. But it was a choice Calla would make… as it would be Daemon's if he had ever been given a choice.

Perhaps some people were just unlike Aegor… unlike the bastard he was.

So be it, he thought, then I shall recognise it. "Yes, you're a hero now. I underestimated you, Aelor. You're a good man."

The corners of Aegor's lips turned up as Aelor's eyes widened at his words. The boy was still shivering with a pathetic look on his face… he did not look like a hero. But as long as his determination did not shatter, he would be one up until the moment he died.

Which would come… very soon.

"Go back to your chambers. My men will take you back home," Aegor told the dragonseed, "Don't show your face anywhere people can see you until you arrive."

"Yes, milord…" the dragonseed turned to Aelor, "Thank you, my prince." Before Aegor could correct him, he turned and climbed back up the ship, with the speed of a rat evading a cat.

…He was lowering his head and pretending to not know who was who before.

"A Targaryen loyalist, huh," Aegor mumbled. He did not plan to punish the dragonseed. It was pointless. "Or did you know him personally?"

"No, but I was outside frequently when my father was the Prince of Dragonstone. He might have recognised me," Aelor said.

"You must have been a good prince," Aegor's tone was soft. When Aelor predictably looked shocked, Aegor laughed, "Well then, hero, come with me and put on the best show in your life. I'm bringing you back to the king."

Aelor nodded. "Let me die, put my head on a spike, and rid the world of a distraction it doesn't need when the realm is at risk."

Under the faint light of the dawn, the boy almost looked half a hero.

As Aenys gave his order, the executor's blade fell upon Aelor's neck.

"No—" Calla's scream was muffled as Aegor covered her mouth. She tried to rush forward, but Aegor had pulled her back, adjusting his position to shadow her. He would not let Calla stop the execution, or let the world know what she wanted.

Unity in the Blackfyre front. For that… there was much blood spilt.

Calla escaped his grasp, but it was too late for her. Aelor's head fell to the ground, blood spattering out from his neck. The wound was clean. Surely he did not suffer much.

…The sight, the cry of Aelor's twin… it tugged Aegor's heart more than he wanted to admit. But it was nothing compared to Calla's despair.

"Why…" Calla mumbled, staring at Aelor's corpse blankly. "I thought… I could have saved you…"

"He chose to die, Calla," Aegor whispered into her ears, when people's attention was on Aelor's rolling head, "I offered him a way to live, but he chose to die in face of the consequences. Honour his sacrifice. Let me put his head on display and put an end to this distasteful affair."

"Distasteful affair?" Calla repeated, looking at Aegor with reddened eyes. "He died, Aegor! I thought I could stop it… why did you let me think I had a chance? Why didn't you stop me earlier?"

She was not listening. Before Aegor said anything, a hand came to Calla's shoulders, "I want to know as well, Uncle. Why did you break our previous agreement?"

Calla had confronted him with overwhelming sadness, but in Daena's gaze, there was a naked fury. She was furious that he didn't follow her plan… but did she realise that even if it was the dragonseed that died, Calla would still be hurt?

"It's not the time to explain," Aegor simply said. Walking away from the sisters— he would let Daena comfort Calla for now— he barked, "Put the traitor's head on the spikes. His body—"

"I'll let his family have their time with him for a little longer," Aenys said, sighing. He had turned his head from the middle of the courtyard, clearly not wanting to witness this gory sight a minute longer. "Baring his head, his body should be cremated by the time the sun sets, as per tradition… from a false line or not, the boy was still a Valyrian. Treat him with respect."

"Understood, Your Grace." Soon the courtyard was emptied. Even under the grudging gaze of the bereaved, Aelor's head was still taken from them. Hugging Aelor's headless corpse, Aelora sat in the centre of the courtyard and cried, the Targaryens surrounded her.

Aegor had wanted to talk to Calla and Daena in his solar, but Calla stood watching Aelora, her legs firm as if they had grown out of the ground. Very well, it was the same. Nobody would hear them here if they kept their volume low.

"…Aelor was a hero," Aegor had concluded with a sigh, "He died protecting not who he loved, but someone unrelated to him." He had a mind of leaving the details of their bargain unsaid… but Daena would not be satisfied unless she heard all of it.

Calla's reaction was not what he was hoping for. "You could have told me earlier," she said, her gaze flickered between Aegor and Daena, "the plan, all of it. If I knew, we didn't need to act out a rescue plot. Aelor would never have chosen otherwise…" she trailed off, looking to the distance.

Daena stomped, fidgeting her fingers. "There's no need for him to be told, no reason to give him the choice." Her gaze was sharp as a blade when she hissed at Aegor, "What's the point of all those preparations, Uncle Aegor, if you were to throw it all away for… for what? For Aelor to feel good about himself as his head was cut off?" She added menacingly, "For you to feel good about yourself?"

"Enough, Daena…" Calla shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the tears. "This is all wrong. From the start, this is wrong. You shouldn't suggest finding a double."

"But—!" Daena's eyes widened angrily, seemingly unconvinced.

"Aegor was right about one thing. It's the same no matter who was executed today because it would create the same amount of grief and sorrow." Calla turned to look at them, her lips trembling. "No one had to die today. No one should have died today!"

"Calla, stop!" Her shout had attracted the attention of the Targaryens standing around Aelora. They should not hear this talk. They should not be here—

"No!" Yet Calla pushed Aegor's hand away, pulling away from him. "They should know. Aelor didn't have to die. He died to save our face— to prove that we stood by the laws of the realm, that no one could rebel against us and live. This is what you care about."

She stared deep into Aegor's eyes, "But that doesn't… really matter that much, does it? Aenys rules a united realm with all Targaryen claimants under his control. We can bear the cost of mercy. Even if not, what stopped us from claiming that we have executed him, but secretly kept him alive? Just make a fake head with wax, put it on a spike, and it would work."

"That's…" Could it work? A real head would reek, but the people of King's Landing would not be able to tell when the head was high up on the walls… they would have taken the head down when it started to decay… "Mayhaps. It was our oversight."

"This might be a better way," Daena concurred, biting her lips, "but it'll invite suspicion…"

"Does it matter if people suspect that Aelor is still alive, Daena?" turning her gaze to her younger sister, Calla pushed, "Does it?"

Under pressure, Daena frowned. "…Not that much, I suppose."

"I understand. You don't exactly care that someone unrelated to us dies for this, even if it isn't… just. You just want to help spare me from the pain…" Calla turned her head towards the middle of the courtyard. Aelora was still crying, but her voice was not as loud as before. As time passed, even the rain in her eyes would dry…

"But this just isn't right," Calla murmured, "For House Blackfyre, for Aenys' rule, we've told too many lies and sacrificed too many lives. We might have decided to hide the truth, but… can we stop trying to cover one lie with another? Stop sacrificing others' lives when we can make our own lesser sacrifices?"

"If only," Daena sighed bitterly, "Sister, believe me, I don't want to sacrifice anyone, either. It's just that we're facing such enemies… in the open, and the dark…"

"Our enemies in the open don't require political trickery to win." When Calla looked back at them, light in her eyes, Aegor almost thought that she had found a way to defeat the monster. "We'll fight them in daylight, and we either win or die. As for enemies in the dark… how could they be a threat, compared to the monster?"

Daena shook her head, "A dagger in the dark won't destroy the world, but it'll kill any of us just the same. And it'll… hurt." She gritted her teeth, "It'll hurt badly."

She had spoken of betrayal and treason… but it was not her job to handle them. "Leave the daggers in the dark to me," Aegor said, "You needn't concern yourself with that."

Daena crossed her arms and stubbornly shook her head.

Calla snapped, "I just don't want anyone to die for us again! Aelor was a hero who died for someone unrelated to him, but we don't need his sacrifice… No more sacrifices! No more sacrifices to maintain our rule, no more sacrifices to save the world!"

Brynden had told Calla to make sacrifices, Aegor remembered. This was her rejection of his method, his worldview. No more sacrifice to save the world.

Aegor should be overjoyed with Calla overcoming the restraints Brynden put on her. But he felt… unsettled.

Because no matter how much he admired Calla's innocence, her strength… he could not agree with such naive thoughts.

Sometimes, sacrifice was necessary. And if Calla was not willing to let others sacrifice for her… then she would need to sacrifice herself. And he would not allow that.

"I can… make a better plan," Daena whispered. Raising her head, she said, "I thought I had thought it all over… came up with the best plan… but next time, I won't take the easy way out. I can find a plan that doesn't hurt anyone if I dwell longer on it."

"That's good," Calla said. Turning her gaze to Aegor, she pursed her lips, "This… this isn't a naive dream of mine. If we just think about it a bit more, no one has to die."

"I didn't say it's naive."

"You didn't say it out loud, but it's all written on your face," Calla sighed, "Aegor, please… You don't have to be the one who does all the dirty work, just talk to me. You promised that we'll find a way out, together… we can find a better way next time."

She had thrown his words back at him. This isn't what I was talking about, Aegor wanted to say, but…

"You don't have to act… like that. Like a bastard. Like Bloodraven. The realm doesn't need that. You can be good if you want to be." Calla stared into his eyes, with all the grudge and love and all the other emotions, "Is it too much… to ask that you do it for me?"

Do it for you. "Not at all," he promised, not entirely believing his words, "I…"

But a pound of his heart stopped him from making a promise he would not fulfill.

You can be good if you want to be… but since when did he want to be a good man?

Good, like Daemon had been, and how Calla was? Be heroic, like Aelor was in his last moment?

No, he did not want to be like them. They were too pure for him to comprehend. One would admire the beauty of a jewel… but would never want to become one.

He thought he was doing what Calla wanted when he offered Aelor a choice. Yet it was wrong as well. She wanted a world where nobody had to die.

She wanted him to talk to her. Discuss it with her. Not to leave her in the dark…

That part, he could promise. He could try. But what he could not… was to 'be good'.

Because a perfect solution simply did not exist most of the time. To seek it out might cost them… everything.

"I won't leave you out of a plan again. I'll try to find a way out with you." Calla's eyes shone at that, and it almost hurt to continue. "But you must know that… sometimes there might not be a better way, a perfect way, where nobody has to die."

Calla's face dropped. "Maybe," at last, she said, "but today, if we had discussed the plan beforehand, Aelor could have lived."

Aegor did not have words for that. He watched the middle of the courtyard, and saw Aelora finally releasing Aelor's corpse, her mother holding her tight as the silent sisters took her son's body away—

Suddenly, Daena screamed.