Aegon
Aegon rushed to his chambers as soon as his uncle had given his verdict. Truth be told, he was a bit relieved. He had expected to be put to death, for the crime of kinslaying. That the people on the Small Council had argued for him came as a surprise. And then there was Ser Raynard, arguing for him to become a septon, the utter bastard.
He entered his chambers, unsure of what to do and how to prepare, but upon taking a good look inside, he stopped cold. His father was standing in his rooms, looking out of the window. He turned upon hearing Aegon approaching.
"Well? I trust you are not to be executed?" Viserys tried to jape, but it fell flat.
Aegon ground his teeth. Here he was, the cause of all his problems, standing in front of him and trying to jape at his situation. Aegon tried to calm himself and spoke.
"Exile. For seven years or until uncle dies, whichever comes later. From Westeros, under the pain of death."
His father looked pained, but said nothing for a while, opting instead to stare out of the window once more. Aegon stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do, but his father spoke after a while and saved Aegon the effort of speaking first.
"Come with me to the yard. I wish to take a measure of the sort of fighter you have become," Viserys said, out of the blue and so utterly outside his norm that Aegon was left speechless. Viserys, not sharing his son's confusion swept out of the room and Aegon, having recovered his wits, rushed to follow.
As they walked through the Red Keep's hallways and corridors, on the way to their destination, Aegon hazarded a glance at his father. Viserys's face was set into an expression of determination and purpose and Aegon feared his father meant to punish him for his actions. Aegon addressed his father.
"Who will I be fighting against, father? Some squires? Or a knight? Will I fight against the new Master-at-arms?" Aegon inquired.
"You will be fighting against me. I can hardly take my measure of you if you fight someone else. And Ser Brune has better things to do than fight every disgraced squire who challenges him," Viserys declared and Aegon felt a lance of anger shoot through him at his father's casual dismissal.
Then, Aegon fully registered his father's words and dread pooled in his stomach. Despite his father not looking like it, he was an accomplished tourney knight and melee fighter, having had his own share of victories and glory at the lists when Aegon had been younger.
Before Aegon could decide on a plan of escape, they arrived at the training yard and Viserys ordered Aegon to strap on some armor and get a weapon, before going to do so himself. Unsurprisingly, Viserys too chose a mace. It was upon watching Viserys making quick work of some other knight at a tourney in Aegon's childhood, that Aegon had the idea of using the mace as his weapon in the first place.
Aegon and his father faced each other. The yard was empty save for a groom, who had evidently forsaken his duties at the stable to laze around in the yard. Well, Aegon would put up a show, even for an audience as meager as this.
Without waiting for his father to signal the start, Aegon took a step forward and swung his mace overhead, hoping surprise would help him win the fight. His father reacted, lightning quick, and sidestepped, allowing the mace to pass by harmlessly and waiting until it was at the bottom of its arc and trapping it with his own mace and a foot.
Viserys then gave Aegon a sharp blow with his shield, aiming for his nose, but instead finding his brow. The rim of the shield hit Aegon and the pain almost made Aegon let his weapon loose, but Aegon held on and kicked out at his father.
Viserys leapt away and freed Aegon's weapon in the process. Aegon wasted no time and brought his mace around to deliver a series of blisteringly fast strikes. Viserys parried a few of them, but years of ruling the realm in the place of his brother had left him with little time to hone his skills or stay in shape. Soon, Viserys grew tired of defending and Aegon took his chance, with a swipe prying Viserys's shield away.
Aegon saw the look of surprise on his father's face and raised his mace for the final strike, but then faltered. This situation was eerily similar to how Baelor had been killed and Aegon found himself unwilling to make the blow. Viserys took advantage of his son's lack of attention and regained his bearings enough to deliver a strike to Aegon which hit his hand and made him drop his weapon.
Effectively disarmed, Aegon gave his surrender and his father nodded, breathing heavily. It was obvious Viserys was not in a very good shape and Aegon wondered what the point of this exercise was. He spoke up and asked about something else instead.
"Will I have to marry Naerys after I get back?" Aegon inquired.
"No. With the Gods' grace, my brother will not die anytime soon. While I do want to see House Targaryen prosper and grow, forcing Naerys to wait for you to come from your marriage, which might take anywhere from seven to however many years, seems rather redundant," Viserys said.
He continued," Aemon will have to marry Naerys in your place. The future of House Targaryen is too precious to leave it to eventualities. Especially after the accident on Warrior's Day."
"Well, Naerys should prefer Aemon to me, I suppose. He shares her piety, which makes him vastly more agreeable to her than I do. Though I don't know how they'd react to this," Aegon said.
Viserys hummed non-committally and spoke. "Follow me Aegon, I have something to show you," he said and walked away towards the armory and Aegon followed behind wondering what it was his father had to show him.
They entered the armory and a servant came forth, bowing, and spoke to Viserys.
"It is ready, milord. We've cleaned and refitted the weapon with new leathers on it's handle. I polished it myself, I did. It's a miracle it hasn't been rusted after all these years. I've kept it in the cabinet over there. Shall I bring it out?" he said, pointing to a cabinet used for the storage of weapons and other such miscellanies.
Despite his somber mood, Aegon found himself getting excited. Was his father about to give him Dark Sister to aid in his journeys? Dark Sister had lain masterless ever since Daemon Targaryen, his grandsire had died over the God's Eye. Would it have an owner once more? But what would Aegon do with a sword? He wasn't well versed in swordplay, after all.
While Aegon was lost in such musings, his father had dismissed the servant and walked over to the cabinet, opening it and bringing out a flanged mace and Aegon's breath caught in his throat upon seeing it.
The mace was and a hand and a half length of solid steel topped with a head with four flanges. The shaft itself was engraved with the Targaryen three-headed dragon near the base and other dragons took flight from the base all the way up the head, on the shaft. The steel was rippled but clearly not Valyrian. Aegon put his hand forward to touch it and his father relinquished his grip on the mace to hand it over to him.
The mace itself was heavy, solid steel as it was, and felt incredibly balanced in Aegon's hands. He gave it a few swings and tried to get used to its weight. Viserys spoke over Aegon's attempts to break in the mace.
"This belonged to my own grandsire, Baelon the Brave. King Jaehaerys had this made for him when he was around your age. It is Qohorik, you see. You can notice the rippled pattern in the steel. Those Qohoriks always try to recreate Valyrian Steel in their forges and this one of the more closer attempts. The steel is not weightless, but it is rust-proof," Viserys said.
"This is very beautiful. And I can tell it will be very useful," Aegon said, grinning at having gotten a new gift. Viserys nodded and spoke.
"Have you given any thought to what you will do in your exile?", he asked.
Aegon shrugged and answered, "I did not give it much thought. I only received the news of my exile just now. I will be journeying to Essos, I suppose. Perhaps I will join a Free Company. The Stormbreakers is composed entirely of Westerosi, isn't it? Or the Second Sons, even if I'm not a second son. Gain some glory and riches while I'm at it too, I suppose," Aegon said.
Viserys hummed. "Would it not be better to make the best of your time there? I will send you however much money as you wish for. Joining a Free Company carries a certain amount of risk. Warfare is different from fighting in tourneys or riding down peasants on horses. It would certainly ease my heart to know that you have not perished half a world away, fighting for a cause you do not believe in, and getting paid for it like a common soldier," Viserys said.
"Do you think me incapable of war? Or perhaps you think I am incompetent? Do you believe that I am so incapable of action that I would rather sit on my ass and laze about? I do not need your charity. By the time I return, I will have made a name for myself and return in glory or not return at all. This I swear on, I swear on…, my mother's soul. Mark my words," Aegon said hotly and stormed away from his father and back to his chambers, holding his new mace.
By the time Aegon returned back to his chambers, he felt very foolish and regretted his words. They were spoken in anger and haste and now he was worried that he might not see his father again. A little dread slowly started to settle in his chest at the thought of not seeing his father again. He hoped his father would forgive him.
So lost was he in his musings that he entered his chambers and did not immediately notice that his room was occupied yet again. He was jolted out of his thoughts as he bumped into someone just as he entered into his rooms. He looked up from his thoughts and saw Naerys and Aemon in front of him, with Daeron half behind Aemon.
"Well. Out with it. What are you lot doing here?" Aegon demanded, trying and failing to be gruff in his tone.
Naerys spoke up. "What happened? You know, with the King and the Small Council. Oh, I prayed for you all day. I'm sure the Father will not allow for you to be unduly punished. You were let go, right?" she asked.
Aegon wanted to tell Naerys what he thought of the Father's judgement but bit back his words, thinking of his rash words to his father. He wanted to be on good terms with his siblings as he left, fearful as he was of his chances in Essos. He addressed all of them at once.
"The good news is that I won't be executed," Aegon said wryly. Aemon frowned and spoke up.
"And, is there a bad news?" Aemon asked, wincing.
Aegon decided to tell them directly. There was no use beating about the bush. Aegon spoke.
"Yes. The bad news is that I have been exiled from the Seven Kingdoms upon the pain of death for seven years or until uncle dies, whichever comes last. I have been given a week to leave So, I guess I won't be seeing you lot for a while," Aegon said.
Naerys looked stricken with grief, with tears in her eyes. Aemon's face was set into a grim visage but Aegon could see his despair and it warmed his heart to know his brother and sister cared for him still. Even Daeron looked tearful at the back, though Aegon did not yet know what he thought of the situation. Then, Daeron spoke up.
"It's all my fault. I forced Baelor," Daron took a shaky breath and continued, "I forced Baelor to fight in that stupid tourney. I just thought we'd have some fun. Baelor was too dour and I thought having a good fight would cheer him up. And now, he's gone and you're also being sent away and it's all because of me." Daeron burst into tears.
Naerys hugged Daeron and tried to soothe him. She looked towards Aegon, as if pleading him to help and Aegon not knowing what to do, went and put a hand Daeron's shoulder, trying to comfort him.
Eventually, Daeron stopped crying and Aemon spoke up, trying to steer the conversation away from its subject.
"Let us go to the yard. We'll have a little spar and then we can go swimming in the Blackwater. How does that sound, Daeron?" Aemon said, and Daeron nodded his assent, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve.
Aemon and Naerys went ahead and Aegon hung back, walking with Daeron, his arm still wrapped around Daeron's shoulders. Aegon spoke to Daeron, hoping to comfort him.
"It isn't your fault, you know. I am as much to blame as you are, if not more. Don't blame yourself for this. Sometimes, things are out of our hands and all we can do is react to events as they pass us. So, try not to feel bad about this," Aegon said and Daeron nodded, though his eyes were still red and puffy. Aegon continued to speak, pointing to his mace.
"Here, you can use my mace in your fight against Aemon, if you can lift it. I don't think I'll join you in the yard now, but I'll be joining you when we go swimming," Aegon said. Daeron excitedly took the mace from Aegon and predictably was unable to lift it and instead dragged it all the way to the yard.
Aegon took a seat on one of the benches in the yard noticing that his father was nowhere to be seen. He sat with Naerys while Daeron and Aemon padded themselves up and got tourney swords, Daeron having given up on the mace after dragging it all the way to the yard. Aegon watched them fight, shouting encouragements along with Naerys.
Daeron and Aemon only swiped at each other either very weakly or very wide, both of them obviously afraid of hurting the other, the events of the tourney still fresh in their mind. Aegon was watching each of them as they tried to overpower the other, having locked their blades, when his vision went white with pain as he felt something strike his forehead and cried out sharply.
Aegon clutched his head and felt blood pooling underneath his fingers. He opened his eyes and saw the culprit - Daena.
She was standing in a corner of the yard, having come in without anyone seeing and Aegon's eyes met with hers and saw a look of hatred in her eyes. Daeron and Aemon saw her just as Aegon did and Daeron walked over to her angrily.
"Daena! What are you doing? Did you throw that rock at Aegon?" Daeron demanded.
Daena looked defiantly at Daeron and shouted back at Daeron," He killed Baelor and you're being all friends with him? I hate him and I hate you!" Daena burst into tears and ran away.
Aegon pushed Naerys away, who was fretting over his cut and looked up feeling eyes on him. He looked to the courtyard overlooking the yard and saw the Queen, who stared back at him before turning and walking away.