Red Keep ― Courtyard…
In the Red Keep's training yard, each of the royal children had begun their next sparring lessons. As was traditional in all Westerosi houses, each young boy would be trained in the art of swordsmanship and self-defense. Once they were old enough, they would grow to become knights and, one day, inherit their fathers' lands and titles and bring honor or glory to their family name.
For the Targaryen children, however, it was mandatory regardless of birth.
Jaehaerys calmly meditated before practicing his swordsmanship skills on training dummies. Mind and spirit, calm, serene, tranquil… Since his apprenticeship under Ser Harrold, the young prince had demonstrated the results of his training. Yet, even then, beneath the surface, he endured much more grueling tasks – but was informed by his superiors not to let anyone else be aware of his training until the time was right. Quick, but not wasteful of his stamina, Jaehaerys attacked with one strike, two, three, thrust in center mass, spin around behind the target, strike against the trapezius, and finished it with a thrust in the lumbar vertebrae.
Both Aegons – the Elder and Younger – smacked their targets as if they were playthings. However, unlike his uncle, the younger Aegon preferred sparring with his twin brother Viserys, who occasionally learned to cooperate more effectively when the two were paired together. It made them just as dangerous and unpredictable given their nature. Jacaerys and Lucerys, also being quite young, each thrust into and stabbed their targets – though Jace, being older, was more resilient whereas Luke moved clumsily.
Daeron, being so young, swung wildly and hit his practice dummy aggressively to the point where they had almost fallen over – often to the point of shouting and yelling. Given his nature, the youngest Targaryen prince was tenacious as he was unyielding. However, that also left him more vulnerable to counterattacks and easy to anticipate given his footsteps and swordplay.
Aegon the Elder, much like Jaehaerys, struck his target high and low, directing his wooden sword across both sides of the head, one on the shoulder before twirling around and repeating the same technique. Being confident in himself, he often drove his practice weapon into the dummy to the point of nearly knocking it over as well. Once he stopped to catch his breath, the prince gazed at the castle's young serving girls with desire. Being thirteen, he still underwent various stages of puberty, his hormones driving him wild. However, the young maidens were quick to turn away in disgust and flee the scene. Aegon merely turned around to the next dummy and patted Lucerys as he passed by his young nephew.
Aemond and Jacaerys, as soon as they finished their targets, bumped into each other as the memory of the recent prank they did on him in the Dragonpit still lingered in the prince's mind. Gripping his wooden practice sword in hand, Aemond swung – hitting the dummy in the right flank, gave a thrust center mass, and once more on the left flank.
"Soften your knees. Feet light," Criston instructed. The Kingsguard knight functioned as a master-at-arms for the royal children for more than a decade – instructing them in the art of combat as if they were recruits. "Keep your feet light and your hands heavy."
King Viserys, sitting with his Hand Lord Lyonel and his son Prince Aeonar, watched as his younger sons and grandsons trained in the courtyard. "This is the stuff, Lyonel," he observed. "Lads that learn together, train together… knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn't you agree?"
"That is the hope, Your Grace," Lyonel suggested skeptically.
"Huh. Doubt it," Aeonar disagreed.
"Oh? What makes you say that my son?" Viserys inquired.
"Pay close attention, and you'll see… father." Aeonar stood up and left to venture down into the courtyard, escorted by four of his Lykirī Mēre assassins. The Young Dragon speculated that his former friend-turned-adversary would try an underhanded tactic involving any, if not all, of his sons. Once he set foot in the courtyard, Aeonar watched his children, younger half-brothers, and nephews continue training. "Ēza udir Ōlton jittan issāre? (Has word been sent to Oldtown?)" he silently asked.
"Keesa, Dārilaros. Ivestretan Hightōva Lentor ēza. (Yes, my prince. House Hightower has been told.)" one of the acolytes whispered.
"Sȳz. (Good.)"
"Kostō ūndan gryves trēsy gūrēñare gerpa? (Shall we observe the results of your son's training bear fruit?)"
"Mmm."
"Knoir mirros. (There's also something else.)" The acolyte handed a message with the wax seal unbroken entailing the insignia of a purple cobra, the sigil of the Lykirī Mēre. "Kesīr. Hin īlva raghel. (Here. From our brethren.)"
Aeonar took it and broke the seal, reading its contents carefully. "Urnen. Emméno alzilal. (I see. Stick to the shadows.)"
"Emméno alzilal. (Stick to the shadows.)"
It seems I'll need to speed things up sooner than expected. No matter. One way or another, the pieces will fall into place per my design. Aeonar witnessed Aemond rudely smacking Jacaerys's sword out of his hand. Complain if you must, Jace, but Aemond is still stronger than you. He then observed Aemond's performance. Hmm… difficult, very difficult. Yes, you're not like how Aegon is. Plenty of bravery, I see. With a fiery determination to match your ambitions. Not a bad mind, either. There's potential in you, oh yes, and a thirst to forge a destiny to call your own. But in which direction will fate guide you? In the corner of his vision, the Young Dragon noticed Ser Harwin standing in the far-off corner, watching Jacaerys and Lucerys.
"Don't stand too upright, my prince. You'll get knocked down," Criston told Aemond. Before long, he turned to Aegon the Elder. "Aegon," he called out.
"I've won my first bout, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy," Aegon the Elder mocked.
"That's just a practice dummy, not a real one," Aegon the Younger pointed out.
"I'd like to see how you'd fare against someone else for once," Daeron stuck his tongue out.
Criston ignored their comments. "Well then, it seems you'll have a new opponent, My Lord of the Straw," he suggested. "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother."
Aegon's disposition changed when he and Aemond were paired together to face Ser Criston in a practice match. Criston strapped on his gloves, glancing up at the king and Hand. Once he retained a wooden sword of his own, the Kingsguard knight motioned for Beatrice's sons to engage him whenever they were ready. Aemond moved first, followed by Aegon, but Criston easily blocks, deflects, and dodges each strike – demonstrating his prowess as an experienced swordsman.
"You'll have to do better than that."
Again, the Targaryens attack but are easily bested.
"Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter," Harwin told Jacaerys, Lucerys, Jaehaerys, Aegon the Younger, Viserys, and Daeron. "It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."
Criston noticed this. "You question my method of instruction, ser?" he asked, feeling slighted.
"Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils."
"Yeah," Daeron agreed. "I bet my brother Jay would fare much better!" he motioned.
"Very well," Criston complied. "Jaehaerys, come here. You spar with Aegon. Eldest son against eldest son. Whoever wins faces Jacaerys next."
Jaehaerys blinked. "As you say, Ser Criston," he complied. He turned to his younger brothers. "Why did you have to get me involved?" he whispered through his teeth.
"Come on, Jay, we know you can do it," Jacaerys motioned.
"Yeah, you can beat 'em up! Show 'em, big brother!" Daeron exclaimed.
"You're not helping," Jaehaerys replied.
Aegon the Elder and Aemond chuckled.
"I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect," Criston said. "Do you consent to the match, Prince Aeonar?" he inquired.
Well, well. We have a challenge issued. Aeonar and Criston both stared at each other. "Very well. Do it," he stated. "You heard the man, Jaehaerys. Demonstrate what you've learned in your training."
Well, I suppose I have no choice then. "I understand, father," the young prince obliged. Okay, Jaehaerys, now… remember what the masters taught you. What father told you. 'Don't show your hand too early. Wait for when the time is right, and when an opening presents itself, go for the kill. And if the bait is obvious, don't take it.' Twirling his wooden sword, Jaehaerys moved into the center of the dueling ring where Aegon the Elder stood before him. Very well then. If it's a surprise they want, it's a surprise they shall have.
Viserys, who was seated in a chair after standing for an extended period, looked down from the balcony at the courtyard below at his large family. He smiled as he remembered the stories his father had told him; that he and his brother Aemon had sparred and dueled with each other in the training yard for hours. He had fond memories of training with Daemon as a youth, though he could never claim to equal his younger brother's skills. "Let us see how they will respond," he told Lyonel.
Ser Harwin, the heir to Harrenhal and Commander of the City Watch, leaned against a wall and watched as Jace and Luke urged their cousin, who they all but worshiped, to duel with Aegon.
It was Prince Aegon the Elder versus Prince Jaehaerys. Both Targaryen princes carried their wooden swords, circling the other.
"Swords up," Criston called out.
Both Aegon and Jaehaerys readied themselves.
"Scared, nephew?" Aegon the Elder taunted.
"Your need to win, Aegon, it blinds you," Jaehaerys countered. His stance, his tone was calm and composed. He refused to let his uncle's taunting throw him off-balance.
"Engage."
Aegon charged forward to attack, whereas Jaehaerys moved defensively instead. Both wooden swords clanked against each other, each making moves―attacking, parrying, deflecting. At first glance, the two appeared evenly matched. Many in attendance began to applaud, chant, and cheer – occasionally making bets on who would win. Both grunted, and swords swooshed and cut through the air. Neither side made any ground as they pulled back to prepare for the second bout. While Criston coaches Aegon the Elder, Jaehaerys glances over at his father. Aeonar says nothing but lifts his head in approval. The look in his father's eyes told the young prince all he needed to know. The first bout was child's play; to size up his opponent and search for any weaknesses he could exploit. And Jaehaerys certainly found more than one. Now was the time.
"Plant your feet. Advance on him…"
Spectators called out.
"You!" Aegon yelled. He swung wildly, pushing over practice dummies as he advanced on Jaehaerys. Resuming the Knight's Dance fighting style, both combatants circled the arena before Aegon relentlessly attacks his nephew.
"Close with him. Press him backward!" Criston instructed. "Close with him! Stay on the attack! Use your feet!"
Aeonar watched closely. He has him right where he wants him. "Sīr! (Now!)" he commanded in High Valyrian.
In a sudden shift, Jaehaerys immediately shifted his posture and tripped Aegon over. Now holding his wooden sword in a reverse grip and employing a sideways stance, Jaehaerys shifted his fighting style to synthesize his Knight's Dance swordsmanship and Lykirī Mēre martial arts together with his keen observation. Just as father said… 'Quick feet, fast hands, keen eyesight, deadly precision.' Jaehaerys moves lightly and quickly on his feet, capitalizing on how to use his weapon to deflect heavier strikes and target vulnerabilities in his opponent's armor. The prince stumbled forward as his opponent moved on the counteroffensive, easily dancing around and overpowering Aegon. Before he could get back up, Jaehaerys performed an acrobatic aerial cartwheel to create enough distance. "As you can see, uncle, this fight was over before it began," he said. "Until you're aware of your limitations, you'll never beat your opponents. So, stand down."
"Why you…!" Aegon shouted with frustration.
Criston watched the duel intently. The fluid motions, the fast and agile advances, quick deflections before getting in a quick strike and withdrawing to a distance to defend themselves, he's seen this all before when he dueled with Aeonar last time. This is just like… He turned to Aeonar who was watching. Damn you, what have you been teaching him?
Jaehaerys said nothing but waited. The attendees observed the two princes dueling. Aeonar's son was moving much faster now, easily dancing circles around Aegon the Elder. The prince, growing increasingly impatient, swung left to right but never hit his target as his nephew quickly jumped backward. Preparing for another overhead strike, Aegon took one step forward, but Jaehaerys quickly sidestepped again and dropped to the ground to perform a sweep kick, knocking his opponent off his feet.
"Omph!" Aegon grunted. Snarling, he again got up to his feet. "Grrrah! I'll get you!" he yelled.
When Aegon the Elder charged again, Jaehaerys ducked and performed a somersault kick. The prince's kick connected with Aegon's chin, and he stumbled back, suddenly feeling disoriented. While Aegon felt his world spinning, he heard five rapid footsteps approach and momentarily regained consciousness to see Jaehaerys deliver a flying kick to his chest. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground before he got back up to attack again. Once more, Jaehaerys tapped Aegon's sword down and delivered a spinning high kick to the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. Kicking the fallen wooden sword away, Jaehaerys pinned Aegon down.
"The winner is… Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen!" Harwin announced.
Viserys and Lyonel both watched as the sparring match came to a swift end. Only then did they realize that Jaehaerys was toying with Aegon from the very beginning. Once the counterattack order was given, the tide easily went in his favor. By defeating him effortlessly, it was apparent that Aegon the Elder was no match for Jaehaerys – they were not equal. They never were.
"Do you yield, Aegon?" Jaehaerys inquired.
"NEVER!" Aegon the Elder spat.
"Then you are a fool. A blind one at that. I pity you." Jaehaerys stood to get off him; he could hear his siblings and cousins cheering him on, while the only things that came from Aegon's corner were harsh criticism from Criston and silent stares from Aemond.
Aegon the Elder, feeling his temper rising, spun around, and glared at his nephew. "Dirty dishonorable tricks, of course, I should expect nothing less from the son of a man who employs assassins!"
Jacaerys immediately leaped to his cousin's defense. "He won fair and square! You're just cross because he's better than you," he said.
"Yeah! Don't be a sore loser!" Lucerys chimed.
"Crybaby! Crybaby!" Daeron taunted.
"Face it: you lost, he won. Get over yourself," Aegon the Younger and Viserys remarked.
Aegon's face turned a shade of purple and he advanced on Jacaerys, raising his wooden sword to strike him "No one asked for your opinion you dirty little―"
"ENOUGH!" Harwin intervened, putting himself between them before Aegon could finish his sentence or worse: swing his wooden sword at them. Grabbing the sword from Aegon's hand, the Bonebreaker pushed him back gently but that only seemed to enrage the prince further.
"YOU DARE PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!?" Aegon shouted in a shrill voice.
"Aegon!" King Viserys called down to the courtyard at the fuming prince.
Harwin looked at Criston. "You should teach your charge about being gracious in defeat, Cole."
"You forget yourself, Strong. That is the prince," Criston remarked.
"As are they," Aeonar stepped forward, indirectly mentioning the other children, "but do you hear them complain? What specter are you looking at, Ser Criston? Titles alone cannot hone one's talents. Those with talent are the ones who move history. Those obsessed by their status and continue staking their claim end up face-down in the dirt where they belong," He traded glances between Harwin and Criston. "That's enough for the day. Back to the barracks, both of you." He turned to his sons and nephews. "Same for the lot of you. Rest up for the day. We resume practice tomorrow evening."
"Yes, father," Jaehaerys complied. "Come," he told his younger brothers and cousins.
As the children were led away, Aeonar turned to leave as well. Stopping short of Viserys and Lyonel, he glanced at them both. "Think that was impressive? He was merely holding back. You haven't seen half of what my sons are capable of when they decide to get serious," he told them and left before anyone could reply.
Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast…
It was later in the day when Aeonar finally decided to see his sister, he pushed open the doors to Rhaenyra's private chambers, finding her reclining on a sofa wearing only a white nightgown pulled down slightly as she breastfed her newborn child, the large dark-haired infant hungrily nursed.
"Let him be bathed with a cloth and see to it the cook gives you a good, clear wine to drink," Rhaenyra told her handmaidens. She cooed at her newborn before turning her purple eyes up towards her brother, whose face might have been made of stone with how stoic his face was. "Nice of you finally visit," she said with only mild warmth in her voice as she continued to hold her infant.
Aeonar observed. "Yes, I know." He sat down. "You missed the main event moments ago. Jaehaerys defeated Aegon in the courtyard. Jace and Luke watched it all unfold."
"Yes, Ser Harwin was here before you were and commented on Jaehaerys's skill." Rhaenyra noticed a slight darkening in Aeonar's face at the mention of the heir to Harrenhal. "Do you mean to give me the same lecture you did when Jace was born?" She asked. The memory of Jacaerys's birth was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Laenor had held the child up, proclaiming him the future of House Velaryon, but everyone saw his dark curly hair and a pug nose. The same hair and nose that the members of House Strong possessed.
"You've made your choice. So, I won't waste my breath any further. Even if it's anywhere across the realm or on the other side of the Narrow Sea, whispers of your children's legitimacy still reach my ears. What's more, the Caltrops know it as well. Three times, Rhaenyra. I know Ser Harwin is their real father."
Rhaenyra couldn't even meet the gaze of her brother, instead, she focused on her suckling newborn, her fingers gently caressing his dark locks. "Ser Harwin is not but a dear friend of my family. Laenor is the father of my children," she said plainly. "They bear his name, and even the Sea Snake has never challenged it. He had already written that he will construct a new war galley in honor of his new grandson. Besides, in the end, they are the blood of the dragon. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey are still your nephews. All of them."
"Still keeping with the lie," Aeonar retorted. "I did tell you years ago that whatever mistakes you make from now on is entirely on you. No one will be bailing you out of trouble next time." He stood. "Now, I'll need to return to work. The whispers bring word once more."
––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Alicent had finished teaching Aemma another embroidery lesson. Once she shipped her daughter off, one of her handmaidens told her that Aeonar was last seen in his private chamber where he works as Master of Whisperers. Sensing something was off, Alicent went off to check up on him. Upon her arrival, she could see Aeonar staring at the message he received from the Lykirī Mēre earlier this morning. The wax seal was broken, and the message laid bare, but it was written in a language Alicent could not understand. Ancient runes of High Valyrian? Mixed in with… Old Ghiscari? Yi Tish? She wasn't so sure. But whatever it was, Aeonar kept looking at it for quite some time. "What's bothering you, husband?" she asked.
Aeonar looked up at his wife, then glanced at the message. "I'm fine, Alicent," he reassured her. "This letter was brought to my attention by the Lykirī Mēre stationed on Dragonstone this morning. It regards Azdez mo Dharozn, their grand master. It was written months, perhaps even years ago… in the event of the worst happening. A contingency plan. Such a sudden scenario often leaves loose ends."
"What does it say?"
"'Where tree leaves bathe in the sunlight, one finds root deep within the shadows. Yet, like a cleansing fire, the natural order shall sweep aside the old life to make way for the new. The fires of Old Valyria will illuminate the world once more,'" Aeonar translates. "The grandmaster had a more philosophical approach in how he trained the order's initiates before they achieved the rank of master. For generations, each grandmaster passed their teachings onto their chosen successors. When Balerion died, we thought the last remnants of Old Valyria died with him. But the Lykirī Mēre changed that. They kept and maintained as many historical records as they could before the Doom wiped out the rest, ensuring what remained of our ancestry wouldn't die with the rest of them. Grand Master Azdez always was as good as his word."
"'Was'?" Alicent raised an eyebrow, recognizing the past tense used.
"Mm-hmm. He's dead. Old age caught up with him."
"I'm sorry, Aeonar. Are you all right?"
"He was ill, and thus on borrowed time anyhow. Azdez led the Lykirī Mēre for more than eighty-seven years… and according to his will, he named me his successor. He wants me to take over as Grand Master of the Lykirī Mēre."
"That's a lot of responsibility. Are you certain this is what you want?"
"I cannot abandon them, nor could I abandon my responsibilities to the realm, to House Targaryen, or our family."
"I didn't ask what he wanted. I'm asking what you want."
"What I want…" Aeonar paused momentarily. "What I want… is unimportant, Alicent." The Lykirī Mēre needed me, the House of the Dragon… needs me. No one else could have done what I did. Father, Azdez mo Dharozn… they knew this. That's why they kept me around all these years. "But even if it were so, anything good in my life eventually gets taken away. Like… like how I almost lost you back then… I-I couldn't…"
ooOoo
Flashback: 7 years ago (119 AC)…
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" Alicent screamed, tossing her head from side to side, her hands gripping the sheets as the painful pressure steadily got worse.
"Something's wrong!" one of the attendees exclaimed worriedly.
"The baby…!"
"WAAAAAAAAHHH! NNAAAAA!"
The doors flung open with Aeonar rushing in. "Alicent!? What's happening? What's going on?!" he demanded.
"The infant is in breech," Mellos informed him. "We've given Lady Alicent as much milk of the poppy as we can without jeopardizing the child's safety, but it may not be enough."
« GAAH! Aeonar! Aeonar, help me! Please! »
"AAAAAAAAAAAAARHHHHH!" Alicent's screams continued piercing loudly.
No. No, no! Not again! "Move! Get out of my way!" Aeonar shoved past Mellos. "Alicent!" he hurriedly rushed to his wife's side. "Alicent! I'm here! I'm here!"
Alicent wailed. "Aeonar! Please help me! It hurts! It hurts!" she pleaded. "WOOAAAAAAAAAA!"
"My prince," Mellos interjected. "We've tried every solution. But… there may be an alternative."
Aeonar slowly turned his head. "If you're even suggesting what I think you are…"
"We may have no choice. We can save the child, but it may cost―" Mellos didn't even get to finish before he felt the Young Dragon's hands wrapped tightly around his throat, strangling the Grand Maester as he was steadily raised into the air.
"Have you gone insane, you senile old man…? You wish to do it again?!" Aeonar hissed in a low tone, his eyes darkened and sounded very threatening. "You want to cut her open and kill her like you did my mother?! Haven't you done enough already? HUH?!" Not giving him a chance to speak any further, Aeonar subconsciously squeezed until he felt something in his hand pop and threw Mellos against the wall, hitting the back of his head and rendering the Grand Maester unconscious. Redirecting his attention to Alicent, Aeonar placed both hands on his pregnant wife's swollen belly. "Come on! Help me turn the baby!"
"W-We've tried, my prince―" the midwives tried to explain.
"TRY HARDER, DAMN IT!" I will not lose Alicent. Not like this! With the panicked support of the midwives, all attempts were made to turn the baby. Aeonar, utilizing his training, pressed down on Alicent's belly and began to feel around until he felt something rough. The head! There you are! Placing one hand on one end and moving the other hand to the opposite end, Aeonar and the midwives began gently moving the breached infant down as they could.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" Alicent screamed in pain.
"Come on, you little bastard! Get out of her! Get out!" Aeonar shouted.
"AAAAAAAAAHHH!"
"GET. OUUUUUT!"
"Uh! U-UH! A-AHHHHH…" Alicent, feeling the child moving further down, shot her eyes open wide and gasped for air – her voice already hoarse from all the screaming. Pulsing, tensing, pushing, she felt her strength leaving her until she felt something slide out of her.
"*Waaah! Waaah!*"
"There he is!" one of the midwives exclaimed.
"It's a boy!"
"Praise the Mother!"
"*Waaah! Waaah!*"
Aeonar looked down as the child wailed, taking its first breath upon entering the world. The birthing process was finally over, but Aeonar felt Alicent's breathing growing increasingly shallower. "A-Alicent?" he panicked. "Alicent?! Alicent!"
"A… Aeonar…" Alicent spoke weakly. "I… I can't…"
"Please, Alicent! Don't give up! Th-The baby! It's here. Look! We have another son! See? Y-You, see?"
"A… Another son… Hah… I… I'm so… so happy…"
"Alicent?"
"A… Aeonar…" Alicent soon closed her eyes and went limp.
Aeonar's eyes widened. "A-Alicent?" his voice trembled. But his wife remained unresponsive. "Alicent?! Alicent! Wake up, Alicent! Please wake up!" Don't go… No! Don't leave me. Please… come back, Alicent. Please don't die… Come back… Come back!
ooOoo
Alicent felt sad at the memory. She was unconscious for the most part after Daeron's birth. From what Rhaenyra and the midwives told her, she had lost a lot of blood and almost died. For seven days and seven nights, Aeonar never left her bedside and prayed to every deity he could begging them to spare Alicent's life. On the eighth day, she finally awakened to see her entire family and in-laws weeping for her miraculous recovery. It was also that day when Rhaenyra hugged Alicent tightly, crying and profusely apologizing to her childhood best friend/sister-in-law for everything she had ever done that led to them finally reconciling and rekindling their friendship. "A-Aeonar," she wiped a tear away. She wrapped her arms around Aeonar's head and held him against her torso. "I… I'm not going anywhere. I promise you," she said.
Aeonar exhaled and held his wife close. "No, I promise you," he reiterated. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Chapter End
Author's Note: And here it is, everyone! Aegon "the Elder" Targaryen versus Jaehaerys Targaryen, Beatrice's son against Aeonar's son. How did you guys think this scenario will play out in future chapters now that everyone has seen what he is capable of, yet Aeonar says they haven't seen half of what all his boys can do once they start fighting seriously? And I also included a flashback detailing the events around Daeron's birth and how it affected Aeonar. What are your thoughts? Let me know.
SupremeWarwick14: I knew the training of the Lykīri Mēre would prove very useful to Aeonar's children. The style of the Lykīri Mēre is a combination of speed plus martial arts, which is very different than Westerosi battle techniques, and when faced with such, they have problem defending against them. One thing you should consider is that real life martial arts are not very useful when your enemy has armor, which stops those hits. Well, as far as I know. Still, Sir Criston is smart. If someone can get an idea on how to defend against that style, it's him. Also, we should consider that the Lykīri Mēre are not invincible, as we've seen. And Viserys is still doing nothing to prevent the bloodshed.
Now. I thought Rhaenyra had matured, but it seems she hasn't. She brought those three children to a world that would never accept them, and I don't think the fact that Laenor is gay is an obstacle. It is implied that Rhaena (daughter of Aenys I) was lesbian, and she still did her duty. They have no excuse. I think he is very angry this could cost him his alliance with the Velaryons. And I think it might.
I think Aeonar is taking way too many responsabilities. Being the Master of Whisperers and the Grandmaster of the Lykīri Mēre. Well, in AC: Unity, Mirabeau was both a statesman and teh Grandmaster of the Parisian Rite. He might manage, but he is only human.
I felt so sorry for Aeonar during Daeron's birth.
One recommendation, I'd suggest giving Laenor his book's death. The one he had in the show brings doubts over the legitimacy of Rhaenyra and Daemon children. Plus, it is a dumb move for Rhaenyra and Daemon.
Questions:
- Would Aeonar and Alicent be up for setting a marriage between Aemma and Aemond?
―Alicent would be open to the idea, but not sure Aeonar would agree to it.
- Why doesn't Aeonar help Rhaenyra? Should the truth come out it would cost him his alliance with the Velaryons and seriously affect the Blacks. Besides, those are his nephews, regardless who the father is.
―I think he's made it specifically clear a few chapters ago that from now on, whenever Rhaenyra makes a mistake, she's on her own.
- Would Aeonar tell Rhaenyra that nothing of this would have happened had he chose an appropiate husband all those years ago? Or tell him she is a idiot that believes she can do whatever she likes with no consequence? I would in his place.
―As I mentioned a few chapters ago that whenever Rhaenyra makes a mistake, she's on her own.
Gentry2.0: I know Aeonar son would win against Aegon the elder due to him being a twit and not a warrior
MandoWalker: Ugh I can't wait for the word of the bastards to become pubic knowledge
Guest #1: Damn Daeron would've become another Tyrion, except being a dwarf, Aeonar would despise him for the death of Alicent
C.E.W: So the royal children finally spar, not surprising that Aegon the Elder never stood a chance. Jaehaerys had much more intense training at Aeonar's insistence, and takes it a whole lot seriously. Jaehaerys and Aegon the Elder total opposites indeed. Aemond no doubt will become a more worthy challenge in the coming six years, especially after he becomes rider of Vhagar. No doubt Beatrice will give another scolding of Aegon the Elder given his poor performance in the sparring field, its one concern after another, seeing that Aeonar's sons are far better trained is another to add to the list.
Harwin Strong might still return to Harrenhal, while he didn't strike a Kingsguard, he still defended Jacaerys from a prince. It can be countered saying he was defending children of royalty but still, it might give strength to the Caltrops in leaving House Strong open to accusations.
Larys Strong staging the murder of his father and brother, he has to know that suspicion will fall on him given he has something to gain from it. Here's an idea how Larys can assassinate his father and brother without drawing suspicion to himself. He stages an assassination attempt on himself, either in the capital or in Harrenhal. With the capital, some one tries to kill him but then guards or knights save him. At Harrenhal, he decides to accompany his father and brother there. Larys' men disguised as Strong guards are able to rescue Larys but unable to get to his father and brother. Once Larys is to safety, the disguised Strong guards can disappear in the chaos.
Laena will likely talk about Aeonar helping her get Vhagar, and giving the medallion that was worn his grandfather Baelon the Brave and Queen Visenya Targaryen before him. Might be when she is consoling Rhaena due to not having a dragon.
Questions:
Given word being sent to Oldtown, will Otto Hightower be appearing soon?
―He'll be back.
Why did Aeonar bother visiting Rhaenyra, he knows that any talk to her about her children with Harwin will get nowhere?
―Given what happened earlier in the small council chamber, you'd think he'd check in on her first to see how she was adjusting.
If Rhaenyra leaves the capital with her family, will she go to Driftmark instead given she is unwelcome at Dragonstone after the Cannibal incident?
―Probably.
Will King Viserys and Prince Aeonar have a heart-to-heart conversation? It coming closer and closer when the King's disease will get so bad, he'll hardly be able to speak a word when it reaches its peak.
―Viserys will keep trying.
Will Aeonar give condolences to Baela and Rhaena, after all he knows what it is to lose a mother due to childbirth?
―If not, he'll send his kids over to give them comfort.
XavierWright: A lovely chapter we have here.
A question: do you believe Aeonar would resent Daeron had Alicent died giving birth to him?
―He might've.
Garry: Does Criston Cole despise Aeonar and does he think he is a hypocrite since he allowed Harwin strong to live and kept his genitals after he fucked the Rhaenyra and to give birth to the strong boys?
―If he did that would have added further speculation, plus he put two and two together after Jace and Luke were born and just considered her a lost cause
ramdomdude24: Loved the flashback of Alicent birth and how scared Aeonar was. I do find Aeonar bit cruel with subtle signs of Taragaryen Madness, but seems to me the love both Aeonar and Alicent have for each other keeps him sane and a more compassionate human. But I do fear should something happen to her Aeonar will go full Mad King
Moran: I need to point out that most noblewomen don't breastfeed. They have wet nurses for that.
―Some do, some don't.
MichaelBishopone: Ok so aeonar is the sorting hat now. Unironically, harry potter is on my TV as i read this LOL.
jojoboy914: I love the duel with the sons. Jaehaerys is proving to be just like his father in terms of skill. He's going to be worthy heir.
Would it be ok to ask for a scene where Aeonar is with his wife and children and, for a brief moment, tells them that he loves them and hopes that they will become great dragons worthy of their house? I would love to see the man behind the dragon. At least for a little
―At some point
Praetor12: Clever application of the Harry Potter reference. Must have been difficult, very difficult.
Mnava1205: Love the little Kenobi reference there!
―I figured a good quote/reference would be fitting to Jaehaerys's character.