Claw Isle, 181 AC

A low hum of chatter emanated from the Great Hall, but upon his arrival, it was drowned out by a large creaking noise as the door was flung open with a loud clatter, which echoed within the room, heralding his arrival.

He was greeted by the sight of a long narrow room, with its walls fashioned with numerous red crabs strewn on white banners, there were two lower tables running the length of the room which were normally reserved for feasts and special occasions, filled to the brim with members of his lord uncles retinue, knights and household guards and a few important guests.

The disquiet in the room was palpable. The previous chatter had turned into low whispers while he passed the two tables. He felt himself struggling to maintain his aloof outward appearance, feeling uneasy from everyone's gaze fixed upon him.

Aerion turned his gaze towards the end of the hall where upon the high table lay. His eyes scanned the table's occupants, and he made brief eye contact with his lord uncle, feeling a chill run down his neck when he forced himself to return a friendly smile. Then saw out of the corner of his eyes his cousins and gave a nod in their direction, when he saw them making faces at him.

He made his way towards the end of the hall passing the two tables while giving a few smiles or brief nods to some familiar faces. Once he reached near the end of one of the tables he saw Ser Bernarr Boggs, he greeted the Master at arms who had one of his arms wrapped around another knight from the Crackclaw. They both responded with a loud bellow as they clanged their flagons of mead together before downing it together.

His eyes shifted towards the boy sitting beside Ser Bernarr. He knew him to be Ser Bernarr's squire Simon Sunglass, sixth son of Lord Sunglass and a boy three years his elder. Aerion momentarily met his gaze and noticed his eyes held a disdainful glint.

Aerion replied with a mocking smile, causing the boy to clench his jaw and fists as he seethed with anger, forcing himself to contain his famous temper, watching the haughty whoreson red faced and humbled made his day.

Like father like son, House Sunglass was filled with a bunch of pious cunts, but given their house words were 'Piety, Prayer, and Devotion', perhaps it is to be expected. He recalled that it had been Lord Sunglass who had taught young Aerion the true realities of his bastardy when he had the misfortune to meet the sanctimonious old cunt when he visited Claw Isle.

With a smug smile gracing his lips he reached the end of the hall and approached the dais where upon sat the high table. With a fleeting glance towards the table, his eyes bulged upon seeing it was laden with numerous delicacies and foods which caused his mouth to water. If he was older than eight he had no doubt he would be pitching a tent right now.

His uncle, Lord Celtigar was laughing as his wife Elys of House Grafton pawed at his muscular chest in a sultry manner, she had long dirty blonde hair and blue eyes which shone like sapphires. Although she did not possess the otherworldly beauty of the Targaryens, she was still very pretty nonetheless, for a Westerosi that is.

He briefly met her gaze and she gave him a smile. Lady Celtigar had been kind to him despite his status, not motherly per se, but kind enough to allow him to be educated alongside his cousins, regardless of his bastardy.

Before he found a seat near the end of the table alongside his cousins, he went to pay his respects to his lord uncle, and as he approached he noticed his uncle's firm gaze and his lilac eyes boring into his amethyst ones.

Lord Arthor Celtigar was a large man a little under six and a half feet, with a robust physique, he was bedecked in red silks with his signature white sable fur cloak draped around his shoulders. Silver bracelets adorned his bare wrists and around his neck was a silver necklace adorned with various tiny rubies, his large fingers bore many jewel encrusted rings.

Aerion held his uncle's gaze as moments passed in silence, until a small crack appeared momentarily in his stone faced veneer.

In a calm tone he enquired,"The Maester tells me you wish to take up the harp, is that right?"

"Yes, Lord Uncle."

"Hmmm It's not impossible." His face held an expression of deep contemplation, and he began gently tapping his fingers upon the armrest of his chair, "Initially I was not in favour of allowing you to do so, but the maester as well as my lady wife argued in your favour stating it might be good for you, and that you are ahead of your lessons and will not be able to resume your martial training for at least a sennight."

Lord Celtigar turned his attention towards his wife and gave her a brief nod of assent.

Understanding flashed within her eyes and then she turned her attention upon him,"I am willing to teach you although do not expect me to coddle you or hold your hand, I will not tolerate any laziness or complaining if you are unwilling to put as much effort in as you do in the yard with master at arms or with the good maester. Just say as much and we will forget this conversation ever happened."

Aerion clenched his fists in resolution, "Lady Elys, I will show you the faith you and the maester placed in me was not in vain. I will give my utmost effort."

Lord and Lady Celtigar, studied him for a moment as they gazed upon him with appraising glances, until his uncle's countenance hardened, "Make sure your swordwork does not suffer from this," Lord Celtigar's tone was as hard as steel, it brokered no disobedience.

"Yes lord uncle."

Lord Celtigar merely nodded his head in affirmation and gestured dismissively, so he approached where the boys were sitting. He made one last bow towards the couple, which was in part gratitude and courtesy.

Aerion began his journey to find an open seat at the end of the table beside his cousin Bartimos. He found one which was opposite Adrian and Gyles.

After watching his encounter from afar, they were smirking at him and laughing at some inside joke, no doubt at his expense.

He pulled up a chair, and once again gave the food an appraising look, and he was almost brought to tears.

The high table was laden with breads, cheeses, fruits and unsurprisingly a few crab dishes and a few other seafood dishes, such as smoked lobster and lamprey pie.

It was a kingly feast and one that brought a tear to his eye's with its sheer magnificence. He had always adored food in his previous life, but he had never had such a magnificent meal as this.

After seeing Aerion's memories, there was no doubt a voice in the back of his head thinking it was too good to be true. He was dreading having to eat bugs like a Dornish savage or other distasteful thing, yet ironically the food was of a much higher quality than he was ever familiar with.

He became besotted with the sight as he gazed fixedly at his meal, and to his surprise he felt tears falling down his cheeks, he was brought out of his mood when Bartimos lightly thumped him on the shoulder and gazed down upon his face.

His cousin was three years older than him and only a few moons ago, celebrated his eleventh name day. It was a joyous celebration for Lord Celtigar's eldest son, he fondly recalled the memory of him vomiting all over Gyles' brand new tunic.

His cousin looked at him with a concerned expression and asked in a gentle tone,"Are you alright? What is it? Is the food not to your liking?"

Aerion brought a hand to wipe away the tears, before putting an arm around his cousin, "Tears of joy, dear cousin, Tears of joy. It's not every day you see something so beautiful."

Bartimos looked at him with an amused expression, "What's got you in such a jolly mood."

Aerion brandished a succulent steamed crab leg dripping in butter like a dagger in his cousin's face, "Just look at this, have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

Adrian descended into a fit of giggles opposite him, "By the gods Aerion, how hard did you hit your head?"

Adrian was his best friend and the second son of Lord Celtigar. He was a few moons older than him as he was on his ninth name day. He was often overshadowed by his elder brother's martial prowess, but I dare say he was a great deal smarter, although that wasn't really a tall order.

He shook his head at the boy and gave him a look of disdain, 'Ignorant welp, They can't appreciate how good they have it.'

Bartimos raucously laughed alongside his brother, but then suddenly he moved like a shadow cat and stole the crab leg from his hand and quickly gobbled it down and with sauce dripping still down his chin he said cheerfully "Not bad."

He looked at his cousin aghast and in that moment he contemplated committing parricide, "What are you doing! That was mine."

Smugness radiated from his every being, his eyes shone in amusement and his lips were curled up in triumph, and in a condescending tone he replied, "Too slow, blame yourself for waving it in my face."

Aerion responded with a menacing stare, and his amethyst eyes bored into lilac ones.

The tension caused his smugness to vanish, as he began scratching the back of his head nervously before sheepishly offering a crab leg from his plate, in reconciliation.

Still sulking Aerion snatched the crab from his hand and began nibbling at it, but fell into a pensive mood as he thought deeply.

He pondered the connection between one's spirit and body, he was a foreigner, an invader, an usurper in this world.

Aerion found that his young body's instincts and hormones were not something that could be ignored or suppressed so easily. He was finding himself easily distracted while quick to anger and bouts of immaturity.

Bartimos began waving his hand in front of his face, "Hello, are you there? What's up with you? Are you still mad over the crab?"

In a joking manner he replied, "I'm just bored out of my wits after being stuck in bed for a sennight with nothing but the maester for company. Mayhaps if someone deigned to visit me I would be in a more agreeable mood."

Bartimos looked taken aback and guiltily replied, "Mayhaps you're right, but it's not all bad."

He gave him a scornful glance, "What do you mean it's not all bad?"

In a cheery tone he supplied, "Ser Bernarr allowed Gyles and I to start using tourney swords."

Aerion's eyes narrowed and in a deceivingly gentle tone he asked, "Pray tell dear cousin, how is that meant to make me feel better?"

Gyles looked at him with a mocking expression, "It's not, but don't worry I'm sure one day you'll be allowed to use them too. Mayhaps by your twentieth nameday?"

Gyles Grafton was the nephew of Lady Celtigar and second son of Lord Grafton. He was a bit of a twat, but given he was from the Vale that's not a big surprise. Annoyingly enough though he was the eldest of our little quartet at twelve name days old and served as Lord Celtigar's squire, a fact which he seemed to constantly see the need to remind us of.

Aerion just stared back at the boy with a look of disbelief, "You're lucky the maester said I'm not allowed in the training yard for a sennight, or I would make you eat those words."

Gyles gave an incredulous bark of laughter "Methinks the fall addled your witts, I'll admit you're not bad with a sword, but beating me? You're starting to sound like Bartimos the way you're spouting all that nonsense?"

An indignant look appeared on Bartimos face as he loudly declared, "I'll beat you soon enough, you're just lucky to be the eldest."

Aerion thought he sounded a bit like a shonen protagonist, and couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy given he was evenly matched with himself despite being three years older, he doubted he would have much luck against Gyles, who was extremely talented with a sword, although you wouldn't catch him dead admitting it.

Gyles boisterously laughed, "Aye, sometimes I forget you're still just a wee little boy, not a real man like me."

Bartimos face scrunched up in disgust "You're only a name a day older, and you call yourself a man? And your sister has more facial hair than you."

A mocking smile appeared on Gyles face, "Is that why you were looking at her like that? You like your women hairy? Oh Jeyne will be delighted."

Bartimos had a thunderstruck expression but quickly it morphed into one of revulsion, "No way, no way, no fucking way. I would rather become a Septon than marry your sister, if she was even half as annoying as you, I would end throwing myself out your precious moon door."

Aerion looked on in mirth, but was interrupted by a shot of pain in his shin, Adrian the little bastard had kicked him and he was about to return the favour, but saw he was covertly gesturing at Gyles and Bartimos with a pleading look on his face.

A wicked smile appeared on his lips when he realised Adrian's intent,"Gyles, why would he marry your hairy sister when you're clearly the lady wife he's looking for."

Adrian began laughing before he pretended to cough into his hand, whereas the other two boy's heads sharply turned in unison with mortified expressions.

Bartimos looked taken aback, "What in the seven hells are you blabbering on about? Why would anyone marry that ugly mug?"

Gyles replied in a snarky tone, "Shut up Bartimos you great big lunk, You Valyrian Girly boy! I am the most handsome man in the Vale and you look like a bum boy who is better suited in a Lyseni whore house than on a tourney ground or battle field."

Bartimos scowled, "Hey! Watch who you're calling a girly boy, sword swallower. Any wife that goes to your bed a maiden is likely to stay that way, unless I perform your duties for you."

"Call me sword swallower again and I will make you eat those words." Gyles face was red with anger and he had a vein popping and throbbing on his forehead. He abruptly turned his glowering gaze towards Aerion, "And you bastard, I don't want to hear any more of those queer ideas of yours."

"Fair enough" Aerion gave an exaggerated false sigh, "It's a pity though, I always thought he would be your Florian to your Jonquil."

Adrian burst out into a fit of hysterical giggles. At the same time, Bartimos had enough and punched him in the arm causing him to wince, Gyles then threw an empty goblet at him, which he managed to catch mid air, but Gyles launched himself at him from across the table, knocking over the food in the process.

Our pseudo wrestling match was only interrupted by the loud banging of someone's fist against the table. The entire hall went silent, as everyone's eyes were drawn towards the commotion.

Lord Celtigar's imposing figure bore down upon them with the weight of a mountain and his withering glare was fixed on the quartet, "Enough! Act your age! If you keep behaving like impudent children, I'll have you over my knee and make your backside raw."

The four of us cowed under his steely gaze, while a few light chuckles emanated from below the dais, which caused a frown to appear on Lady Celtigar's countenance. His uncle gave one last warning glance, before returning to his seat.

An awkward silence hung over the four of us, as the previous jesting was replaced with meaningful looks and darting eyes, as no one dared to speak another word and risk Lord Celtigars disappointment or wrath.

After a quarter hour of silent eating, those from two tables below the dais began trickling out of the hall to attend their duties.

Adrian stared at him with a smirk, as he leaned in closely and said in a hushed tone, "If I knew all it took was to have you fall on your head to remove that stick up your ass, I would have pushed you from a window ages ago."

Ser Bernarr made his way up the dais. After a few brief words with Lord Celtigar he approached the boys, "Now now, what do we have here? A group of troublemakers? You arse lickers will be joining me in the yard, Lord Celtigar wants to see you properly 'Rewarded' for your behaviour." he then scratched his chin still thinking as he spoke, "Actually not you Waters, I'll have to save your reward for later it appears."


Aerion watched with a wistful glance as his three companions left the hall alongside Ser Bernarr to go to the training yard.

He was one of the few remaining people in the hall and sat back nursing a goblet of lemon water, as he sat deep in contemplation. After a few minutes passed, Lady Celtigar approached him. "If you would follow me to the music room, we can begin the lesson now."

Aerion gave a smile "Of course my lady, lead the way."

The entrance to the music room was an ornate mahogany door, The walls were a familiar lime-washed sandstone, the room boasted an ornate glass window, rather than a simple shutter which was common in the rest of the castle.

The room was rather sparse and plain outside of a large ornate desk, and a few drawers, cabinets, and some chairs.

Lady Elys opened a cabinet in the corner of the room which contained three different lap harps, and picked out an ornate mahogany harp alongside a plain ashwood harp.

She sat down with the beautiful mahogany harp in her lap, and he followed suit, taking a seat beside her and placing the ashwood harp in his lap, seeking to imitate her posture.

She gave a brief gaze as she analysed his posture finding no faults with it, "I will start off today's lesson with a demonstration. What I am playing is a piece that is from Lys which is very popular in the Free Cities and Kings Landing."

Aerion watched on in anticipation as she began to play. He watched as her gentle fingers plucked at the harps strings, bringing forth a melodious sounding tune, and for the first time since he became Aerion he felt at peace. He was entranced by the music as each gentle pluck of the string resonated in his heart, and the feelings of stress and worry seemed to fade away. As she played, it seemed time passed no longer.

Aerion had a broad grin on his face once the Lady was done with her performance and clapped his small hands together,

"Lady Elys, that was a wonderful performance. I hope one day I can be as good as you!"

Flattery was something which rarely failed in regards to women, and to no surprise, Lady Elys had a pleased expression on her face from his praise, "You're too kind, although if you take after your mother, I see no reason why you can't be just as good."

Curious, he raised an eyebrow, "You mean to tell me my mother played the harp as well?"

She looked surprised and asked with a concerned tone almost in disbelief, "You mean to tell me you never knew?"

He nodded his head in a grave manner, "No one talks about my mother, and I hadn't thought to ask uncle."

Her expression softened and she gave him a pitying look, "I am not the best person to ask as I wasn't very close with your mother, I could broach the subject with my husband if you like."

He stared at her with a pondering gaze, "Yes I would appreciate that my lady. Although, I did have another question."

"What is it?"

"I was wondering how you were taught the harp?"

Smiling she supplied, "In the ale it's very common for ladies of noble houses to learn how to play the harp. My Lord Father had many connections in Essos thanks to Gulltown's prosperous trade and using them he managed to get the Braavosi harpist of the previous Sealord to take employment in Gulltown and taught me and my siblings how to play the harp. I also had another teacher brought in from Lys who taught me poetry and singing. Usually it is tradition to learn those from a Septa, but my Lord Father refused to have his children taught by a Septa due to some incident that happened in his childhood, according to my uncle."

Aerion asked curiously, "Have you ever been to Essos?"

Lady Elys's face lit up as if remembering a fond memory, "Yes I have! I visited Braavos and Pentos on a few occasions." her smile faded, and it was replaced with a stern expression, "I will show you a piece from Braavos, which is often played within the Sea Lord's palace and various other establishments."

The next few hours passed in a flash, and noon soon gave way to evening. The lesson consisted of her showcasing a few pieces while instructing him how to use the harp, and near the end, he tried to replicate a few of the simple pieces as she guided him.

Unbeknownst to her Aerion had played the harp and piano in his previous life, so outside of adjusting to a slightly different harp and getting used to playing with the small fingers of an eight year old, he was slowly able to regain his old rhythm.

His performance was by no means stellar in his opinion, but the sheer amount of progress and talent he showed astonished Lady Elys. By the end of the lesson, her calm facade was betrayed by the excitement and interest in her eyes. He found her lack of praise amusing, as he assumed she did not want for him to grow an over inflated ego.

She did not have high expectations going into the lesson, and was willing to teach him due to the harp, partly out of boredom and due to the fact the maester asked this favour of her.

But Aerion had managed to far surpass her expectations as she had thought a child incapable of learning an instrument as delicate as a harp so quickly, especially one with Aerion's temperament. Still, she was left astonished by how quickly he was able to pick up the harp. hSee had never heard of such a thing, his talent left her dumbfounded.


Aerion left the harp lesson feeling satisfied with his progress and also because he noticed Lady Elys looked at him with a fond expression. He made his way to the stables to saddle up his pony which Aerion had previously named 'Blackie' funnily enough.

He led his pony by the reins as they left the stables and made their way into the courtyard. It was relatively deserted outside the sound of clanging metal coming from the blacksmith's forge and the chittering of servant girls; he had hoped to see his cousins, but they appeared to be occupied elsewhere.

He turned his pony with a slight nudge of his thighs and he began to trot his way towards the gatehouse. The clanging of its metal horseshoes dashing across the oaken drawbridge and cobbled road was almost musical.

Claw Isle was said to have gained its name from its narrow towering highlands whose mountains were hooked and arched resembling Claw's, there were very few regions in the island which lacked mountains terrain and dotted forests or glens.

The geography of the Island was a gift and a curse for the Celtigars, as in the days of old their mines and forests brought them great wealth, but this forced them to rely on the sea for trade and food, as the island lacked arable land for the grazing of animals or planting of crops.

He made his way down the cobbled road from the castle, and after a time found himself at a fork in the road which gave him the option of heading towards Crabsport; or he had the braver option of venturing into the glens and making his way towards the highlands.

He made a loud clicking noise with his mouth as he squeezed Blackie with his thighs and broke into a canter towards the glens, the wind gently caressing against his face with, while his golden-silver hair bellowed in the wind.

As he rode past the empty glens towards the rugged highlands, he felt a bout of euphoria from the exhilarating ride and the sense of freedom he got from riding in the beautiful countryside.

Aerion may not have been the best sword in their quartet, youngest that he was, but even in spite of his age he had been the best on the horse. Even though Gyles had been riding twice as long as him, he had still been unable to compare to his own skill. Ser Bernarr had once joked that he was half horse not half dragon.

After a half hour of hard riding up and over steep rugged hills he eventually reached the bottom of the tallest hill of the highlands nearest the castle. Upon arriving at the bottom of the hill he dismounted and held his pony's reins in his hand while he led it up the treacherous slopes towards the crest of the hill.

The sun had begun to fall from the sky by the time he had arrived at the top of the mountain. The wind lashed against his face, scattering his hair to the wind. He felt goosebumps prick up upon his skin, but it was not from the cold winds, it was from the view which overlooked a vast expanse so grand it made him feel almost… insignificant.

He wondered if this was how the gods: felt gazing down upon from their high heavens. His gaze wandered as he soaked in the view of Claw Isle, as he took in its sprawling highlands and jagged terrain, that even made the castle which had always looked so massive to him now, feel almost immaterial and tiny by comparison.

He watched with interest as he observed the small lighthouse billowing flames acting as a guide for the small outline of ships which made their way towards the harbour of Crabsport.

In the distance he could even see the faint signs of Crackclaw Point jutting out from the mainland and the faint outlines of its towering hills, bogs, barrens and vast forests.

Aerion was disturbed from his reverie, when his pony neighed loudly and rubbed his muzzle against his bare cheek. He replied by stroking its flowing black mane, and found himself sighing as he felt his gaze drawn towards the direction of Kings Landing.


Author's Note: Apologies for the delay, I have had a lot going on in my life the past few weeks and I have been trying to do a lot of reading to regain my muse.

Acknowledgments: Many thanks to Gladiusx, Brandon_Blackfyre_021, ImperialxWarlord, Bub3loka and Old man of the mountian who acted as a beta reader.