Driftmark ― High Tide…
Qarl Correy, the lowborn knight wanted for the murder of Ser Laenor Velaryon, was brought before the Driftwood Throne in chains. Although he tried to flee to Essos by ship, he had not expected Vaelor to appear out of nowhere and thwart his escape. Qarl was forced to abandon the ship to avoid the dragon's flame, but the explosion left several burn marks on his face and the left side of his body. He narrowly survived, but the Velaryon fleet was able to close in and apprehend him. Qarl was now a prisoner awaiting the judgment of Driftmark's lord. Having lost both their children, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys stared angrily at the man who murdered their only son.
"Ser Qarl Correy, a lowborn household knight and veteran of the War for the Stepstones," Vaemond judged. "He awaits judgment for the murder of my brother's heir and my nephew, Laenor. Witnesses claim they heard them quarreling in Spicetown when he drew his sword and ran him through before fleeing the crime scene, injuring several of our men trying to escape. Surprisingly, he does not even contest this. If it were me, I'd have his head on a spike after drowning him with my bare hands." He grumbled before stepping aside to make way for his brother and the Hand of the King. "His fate… is yours to decide. Just give us his head."
Qarl remained silent.
"Murdering the heir to Driftmark… I hope you're lucid enough to understand the charges," Aeonar stated.
"I am…"
"Then WHY?!" Corlys snapped angrily. "Laenor was my son – my ONLY son and heir! – and you KILLED HIM! Tell me! Tell me why!"
"I… can't…"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T?!" Rhaenys shouted with grief.
Aeonar analyzed Qarl's tone, posture, and reluctance to meet their gaze. Huh. One must forget that the game of thrones is never truly over. "An insane person would never admit to voluntary manslaughter, nor would they regret their actions," he deduced. "Not unless they had a motive." The Young Dragon glanced at the deflated Qarl. "The Spicetown fair wasn't meant to commence until a few hours had passed, yet my contacts noticed you were rather moody beforehand. Moreover, Farrier mentioned you received an anonymous tip on Ser Laenor's whereabouts before anyone knew what was happening."
Corlys narrowed his eyes, his hands gripping his battleaxe tightly. "So you do know something! Tell US NOW!" he roared.
Still, despite the threats, Qarl said nothing. Finally, his anger getting the best of him, Corlys raised his weapon to strike down the man who killed his son, but Aeonar stayed his hand.
"Not yet, Lord Corlys."
"What?! You know what he did, brother," Vaemond protested. "He killed your son! It's your right to demand justice! Take his head!"
"You kill him now, and we'll lose the only chance we'll ever have at uncovering the truth forever. Only he knows who told him where Laenor was going to be. He can't tell you if he's dead."
Corlys panted angrily, inhaling and exhaling aggressively. Seven hells, the Sea Snake wants justice for his only son's murder. But some of him sensed reason, so he begrudgingly stayed his hand. "Tell us who sent you after Laenor," he demanded, more reserved this time.
Qarl remained to stare at the ground. For an extended period, he didn't say anything. But after a while, he slowly shook his head. "I didn't see his face," he confessed. "He kept his hood down. Nor did he mention their name on a piece of paper. That's all I know. The witnesses at Spicetown you all claim to witness what I've done would also confirm what we already knew about Laenor. I never thought he'd lose interest in a paramour so quickly that he'd move on to another."
Hmm. Not a single hint of who or what they are even on a shred of paper; only delivered in person unsigned. That could make this investigation rather complicated. Whoever paid Qarl to carry out this heinous act must be far away from here, if not more. "Hmm. It would seem that whoever hired Qarl to kill your son went to great lengths to keep their identity a secret, Lord Corlys," Aeonar told him. "I'll have to look into the matter personally. Such an assignment ought to be conducted very thoroughly." Reaching down, he snatched the parchment from Qarl's pocket. The paper was soaked from his jumping overboard, and the ink was barely washed away by seawater. "If I find anything, you and Rhaenys will be the first to know." Looking back at Qarl, the Young Dragon merely shook his head in disgust. "But until then, I cannot deny a grieving father and mother the right to want justice for losing a son. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys will decide your fate."
Corlys huffed, still gripping his battleaxe, ready to render punishment. "Ser Qarl Correy, for the murder of my son, I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, sentence you to die," he declared. Then, rearing his weapon, Corlys swung with all his might, angrily yelling as his blade swiftly decapitated the lowborn knight. Watching the headless Qarl collapse to the wet stonework, blood spurting from the cleaved neck as the body twitched for a couple of seconds, the Sea Snake knew it would not bring back his son – but it would give him closure.
His wife, Rhaenys, continued coldly staring at the lifeless body. The Queen Who Never Was would forever mourn the loss of her two children. But Rhaenys had her granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena, to care for. She could not afford to break down like this. She was a princess of the Targaryen dynasty. Rhaenys was better than this. But if Aeonar needed time to uncover the identity of whoever caused this, the Queen Who Never Was would see them burn.
Aeonar, as he proceeded inward, overheard the Velaryon men-at-arms dragging away the corpse amidst the Sea Snake's shouting. But, unfortunately, he would have to return to King's Landing much earlier than expected to open another inquiry. What a miserable world this is, where we are forced to watch while foolish malcontents erupt in hysterics. I would find such pests a mere annoyance, were it not going to create a mess I'll have to clean up. He then noticed his five children awaiting him with Alicent beside them. "Pack your things. We're going home," he instructed.
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The ships carrying Alicent, King Viserys, Aegon the Younger, Viserys, and Daeron disembarked from Driftmark's docks to return home to King's Landing. In a similar matter to Laena's, Laenor's funeral was conducted similarly to House Velaryon's funeral rites. Aeonar, as promised, swore to Corlys and Rhaenys that he would oversee the investigation of who sent Qarl after their son and notify them when he found something. But until then, all they had to do was be patient and wait for his summons.
High atop High Tide's rocky cliffs, the Targaryen dragons took off. At the forefront of the pack was Vaelor, who spread his wings and flew; behind him were Vermithor, Silverwing, Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, Corxes, Maelyx, and Gaemon. Lastly, making thunderous footsteps in her wake, Vhagar growled and pushed herself off the terrain to take to the skies. Being the largest dragon, the younger, smaller dragons gave Vhagar a wide berth.
Rhaenyra watches them leaving from a distance listening to the dragons' roars echoing across the sea. Even if her marriage was a shame, she did care about Laenor and did not wish for this to happen. But, unfortunately, when she had to break the news to her sons, Lucerys took Laenor's death the hardest. I hope you find whoever sent Qarl after Laenor, brother. But there's a storm coming. You'll need all the help you can get.
"How did your sons take it?" Daemon approached.
"Jace was more resilient, but even he was troubled. Luke… didn't take it well. He's been an emotional wreck. Laenor was the only father they've ever known." Rhaenyra continued gazing across the Narrow Sea. "It's funny. Fire is such strange power. Everything that House Targaryen possesses is owed to it. Yet it has cost us both what we loved."
"Perhaps the Velaryons knew the truth of it. The sea is the better ally."
"Fire is a prison. The sea offers an escape." Rhaenyra reflected on her past youth. "I remember when my brother once told me that while fire is an unpredictable, destructive force of nature, it does leave an opening to restore balance so new life can flourish. I didn't understand what Aeonar meant back then, but now, in a way, I suppose there is some truth in that."
"Huh. Never took your brother as a philosopher."
"Neither did I. I was only a child when he told me that. But that was then. Now? Now there are more enemies than we know what to do with. But Aeonar can't handle them all by himself." Rhaenyra turned to Daemon. "That's why we need you, uncle. Now more than ever. Kaltropis mērpī naejuragon koston daor.lēkia baelza ajorrāelza. Gize mēre hēnkirī Targārien hēzīr erntoshi. Īlvor ānogri īlot letagon, hae Āegot Ērinȳ zȳhom mandȳma hāedromā.Ñuhys valzȳrys, īlon vȳs urnēptre zūgusy krisesēta. Va mōriot. Velaria embōñar issi. Yn ao nykē perzōñi iksi. Hen prānot hae mērȳ zālagon indīliks.(We cannot face the Caltrops alone. My brother will need our help. Only together as a united front can we Targaryens defeat them. Let us bind our blood like Aegon the Conqueror did with his sisters. With you as my husband, we will show the world the most fearsome legacy they have ever seen. Forever. The Velaryons are of the sea. But you and I are made of fire. We have always been meant to burn together.)"
After listening to his niece's proposal, Daemon pondered his future. As a second son, he knew he was unlikely to inherit anything, despite his efforts. His nephew and Alicent's many sons only served to push him further down as eleventh-in-line of succession. It was clear that he would never sit on the Iron Throne. Despite his attempts, he failed. But one day, he overheard an intriguing conversation between Otto and others about the possibility of betrothing daughters from either Laenor or Laena to Aeonar's eldest son, Prince Jaehaerys. If this were true, Daemon would be much closer to the Iron Throne by proxy, even if he never actually inherited it due to Viserys's agreement with House Velaryon ten years ago. "Ao arlie vidūamōra, Rhaenyra. (You are freshly widowed, Rhaenyra.)" he pointed out. "Even if we marry, your brother would never approve of our union. But I suppose that's why we're more… unique in our own way. All your brother needs is a little nudge in the right direction," Daemon rose. "A tyrant rules only through terror. If the king isn't feared, he is powerless. If Aeonar is to be a strong king as you suggest he could be, your brother must learn to cultivate love and respect, yes, but his subjects must fear him."
"That would make him another Maegor the Cruel. And the realm will whisper that somehow I was involved in Laenor's death."
"Do you want to help him? Our family? Then let them whisper. Sometimes the right decisions are not usually the easy ones. But, even if it does cost you his favor, your brother will thank you in the long run. We will know the truth of it, and our enemies won't. They will soon know what we're capable of."
Dragonstone ― Near the beaches…
Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.
As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece Rhaenyra had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by their children, Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys. The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire. Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.
Rhaenyra, dressed in all white, looked back at the children. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of her father or brother. They, her sister-in-law, nephews, and niece, were not in attendance—a deep shame. Rhaenyra had hoped that they would be there to support her. Proceeding with the wedding, she and Daemon cut their hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed their blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on their foreheads.
"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sȳndroti vāedroma. (Blood of two. Joined as one.)" the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzī. Prūmī lanti sēteksi. Hen jenȳ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozūndesi. Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo. Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi. (Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.)"
As each drank from the chalice, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon were determined to make the House of the Dragon the power it was destined to be. They would forever stand with the Blacks against the Caltrops. So Rhaenyra, the Realm's Delight, and Daemon, the Prince of the City and the most experienced warrior of his time, threw their support behind Aeonar.
But at what cost?
Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast…
Beatrice was confined to her quarters, while the Caltrops' morale increased considerably with the acquisition of Vhagar. Unfortunately, the Blacks continued to be a nuisance, having labeled the Caltrops as dishonorable oathbreakers following the Driftmark incident. The tense standoff between the two factions persisted, with the looming possibility of an armed conflict.
"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond… defiled. An outrage."
"Indeed," Beatrice replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.
"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."
"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, Aeonar's sons are another matter entirely. They're more trained and cooperate effectively when paired in groups. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."
"These are dangerous times."
"The day will doubtless come when House Peake will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."
"I shall await your call, my queen. However…" Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain naughty princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."
Beatrice raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but smirk. "Well, well… Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are a naughty little girl." She turned to Larys. "Inform the Caltrops. Let them know what she's done now."
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In the early evening, Aeonar focused entirely on decoding a trusted agent's encrypted message. The report was a complex combination of High Valyrian, Common Tongue, Yi Tish, and Old Ghiscari and had been occupying his time for several days in the Tower of the Hand. However, this particular message caused him to become highly agitated. When Alicent arrived with a hot cup of tea, Aeonar's expression transformed into deep concentration as he furrowed his brows and slammed the parchment onto the table. "Hobrenka ilībōños! (Fucking bitch!)" he cursed.
"Aeonar?" Alicent asked, concerned. "A-Aeonar, what's the matter? What happened?"
"Fucking Rhaenyra and our uncle, that's what happened!" Aeonar replied angrily. "It hasn't even been six months since Lady Laena and Ser Laenor died, yet they've taken it upon themselves to marry in secrecy on Dragonstone, of all places! To wed again so soon after their deaths is an insult to their memory and a slap in the face to our allies in Driftmark!"
"What?!"
"Here. Look at this!" Aeonar's finger traced along each sentence, audibly translating each syllable, every word, and every detail about the wedding ceremony on Dragonstone. The more he explained everything about what his spies had just discovered, the more Aeonar could tell Alicent was deeply disappointed.
"I-I can't believe she… But why? Why would they do such a thing?!"
"It doesn't matter why they did it so soon after their spouses died, but it's how it looks. Already I've been drowning in a lake of parchment from nearly all corners of the realm. They're asking questions, spreading rumors, and even claiming outright that Daemon and Rhaenyra were involved in both deaths. Of course, I've tasked Farrier with separating truth from fiction, but still… UGGGH!"
Alicent felt disgusted. It reminded her of how violated she felt ten years ago. Rhaenyra… please don't tell me you've gone down that path again. "Shall I send for father? Or His Grace?" she inquired.
"No," Aeonar shook his head. "I will deal with them myself." You have a lot of explaining to do, my dear little sister. And you too, Daemon, you son of a bitch.
Red Keep ― Throne room…
Rhaenyra and Daemon received a summons to the capital. Upon reviewing the wax seal stamped with the Hand's insignia, Rhaenyra knew it must have been severe. Although Daemon occasionally dismissed her concerns, the princess had to drag her uncle/husband to accompany her to the Red Keep to face the music inevitably. Upon pushing open the doors to the throne room, the duo expected they would not see King Viserys sitting on the Iron Throne – but rather Aeonar himself. Holding Blackfyre by its hilt, the Young Dragon looked every bit menacing as they came, dressed in black leather with charcoal-grey armor platings on his arms, hands, legs, and feet. He was also heavily guarded by Lykirī Mēre assassins numbering around thirty-five, each placed strategically.
"Brother," Rhaenyra acknowledged.
Daemon retained an unamused look about him. "Huh. I never thought I'd see you up there. So where is Viserys?" he inquired.
"His Grace is beside himself… not with grief, but disgust. So to answer your question, he's taken ill. You'll be answering to me now," Aeonar replied coolly. "What you two did on Dragonstone. Did you think none of us would even notice? Do you have any shame at all? Or dignity?"
"You might want to spell it out."
"Play the fool all you want, but you'll find your jokes are not amusing."
Yup. He's mad. Rhaenyra approached. "What happened with Laenor and Laena was a great tragedy. We both love and grieve for their losses. But as time passes, so does the need for both parties to remarry and secure the family line," she tried explaining. "I understand that you do not approve of our union, brother, but if I could―"
"You will address me as 'Lord Hand,' nothing more," Aeonar cut off. "And as Hand, I speak with father's voice on this and all other matters." His tone was so calm and collected; it sent chills down Rhaenyra's spine. "So why should I approve? That you were groomed from an early age by our uncle and see no wrong in that? Or overlook that both of you are freshly widowed to the point where House Velaryon raised concerns surrounding you?"
"Fuck whoever may think of us," Daemon dismissed. "We are the blood of the dragon. Our word is the law. You should know this by now."
"Only if you want to stiffen the malcontents' resolve, in case you had forgotten. Individually their words mean nothing but as a united front? Not even His Grace has that much sway, uncle. But I suppose that's who you are. Not giving two shits about the consequences of one's actions."
"Aeonar, please settle down," Rhaenyra tried to calm her brother.
"Which is why that sense of entitlement…" Aeonar continued. "IS EXACTLY THE REASON WHY THE WHOLE WORLD HAS GONE TO SHIT!" he rose from the Iron Throne, gripping Blackfyre tightly. "Thinking about nothing but yourselves and your self-interests above all else! You two say you have House Targaryen's future at heart, but I've seen no progress from either of you for ten years! Ten FUCKING years! And any chances you've been given, you instead made it that much worse!"
"If you weren't so blinded to the truth, you would have taken the appropriate action needed from a future king," Daemon shot back. "We've all had to deal with our problems, but that doesn't mean that the blame should solely lay at our feet when the root of the problems should have been dealt with long ago! Maybe… Maybe it would have been better to focus on that instead of inside the Hightower girl's cunt."
"Daemon!" Rhaenyra shouted.
Aeonar felt the nerves twitching and tugging again. "Alicent Hightower is to be your queen. And you will show her the respect she deserves, or I will cut out your tongue," he warned.
"Aeonar, Daemon! Stop!"
"Struck a nerve, have we? But, just like I told Viserys, the blood of the dragon runs thick," Daemon raised a brow.
"Not thick enough, apparently," Aeonar retorted. "You spent ten years in Pentos without a care in the world." His pale lilac eyes turned to Rhaenyra. "And you," he said, "have spat in my face for the last time." He turned to judge them both. "The day you tried usurping Dragonstone, uncle, I was within my right to strike you down, but instead, I. Let. You. Live. And you, Rhaenyra, have been a bothersome thorn in my side. Do what you want, but as I said, I'm done helping you. You got yourselves into this mess, now learn to get yourselves out of it." He sat back down. "Now… to ensure your good behavior," he proclaimed, "you two are to leave King's Landing and relocate elsewhere within the Crownlands. I don't care what you do; I don't care where you go, so long as you don't cause trouble to anyone else, don't EVER show your faces in this court again. And you two are to do so without quarrel. By order of the crown."
Rhaenyra, dreading being exiled, tried to approach her brother, but the Lykirī Mēre impeded her path by unsheathing their daggers and blades as a warning not to get too close to their leader. Daemon instinctively felt the urge to defend themselves, but they were vastly outnumbered. Feeling defeated, Rhaenyra lowered her head. "As you wish… brother," she said quietly.
Aeonar watched Rhaenyra and Daemon leave the throne room. Then, pinching the bridge of his nose, the Young Dragon sighed wearily.
ooOoo
Flashback: 11 years ago (115 AC)…
"It's not easy to abandon tradition and walk your own path. You have more freedom than you realize, Rhaenyra. I don't."
"So does that mean we can run away to the Free Cities on dragonback and only eat cake?"
"Ha, tempting – but no."
"Aw, you're no fun."
"And you're still a pain in the ass. You're lucky I love you, sister. I wouldn't trade you for any sibling in the world."
"I love you too, brother."
ooOoo
Then, unbeknownst and unseen by many, a single tear fell from Aeonar's cheek that day.
"Rhaenyra…"
Chapter End
Author's Note: The judgment of Qarl Correy has been sentenced and Rhaenyra and Daemon have tied the knot, but Aeonar is not very pleased to say the least. Think this will affect their relationship in future chapters? For a while, I'll be focused on in-between chapters for a while before we experience the next timeskip. What are your thoughts? Let me know.
C.E.W: So Qarl was caught as expected, but whoever put him up to kill Laenor is made great efforts to operate in secrecy. There is little to go on, but being a skilled Spymaster, Aeonar might be able turn something up. He is already on to Larys Strong since the burning of Harrenhal in which Lyonel and Harwin Strong were killed.
House Targaryen is broken, the Blacks and the Caltrops' rivalry made bare in the Great Hall of Driftmark. King Viserys is now estranged from Queen Beatrice, and their children for her attack on his son and heir. Rhaenyra, Daemon and her children sent away by Aeonar for marrying so soon after the passing of their spouses, and are now accused by several in the realm, especially the Caltrops of murdering them. I guess this how Vaemond turns against the Blacks and sides with the Caltrops along with Tyland Lannister and Jasper Wylde.
Its sad, when Aeonar sheds a tear after banishing Rhaenyra, it shows that deep down he truly does love his sister.
As Vaemond Velaryon, I guess is that when Corys Velaryon got wounded and had fever in the Stepstones. Vaemond knew Aeonar would not back his claim, so went to the Caltrops. Vaemond petitions for himself to inherit the lordship of Driftmark. The Caltrops might be able to make a strong power base. Aeonar as Hand of the King, rules in his father's name, and were he to rule in favor of either Rhaenys and Rhaenyra, the Caltrops might accuse him of some political scandal, serving self-interests or stuff like that. Weaken his position and give strength to the Caltrops. King Viserys' word however is more absolute which would explain why he would appear despite his condition. Defending Rhaenyra, and by extension Aeonar.
Questions:
Will Alicent be aware of how troubled Aeonar was deep down in his decision to exile Rhaenyra, and comfort him.
―Yes
Will Aeonar and Alicent's children be visiting King Viserys in his room? Given his family is broken, his condition, I'd say he's going to need all the comfort he can get. I trust Jaehaerys will not let the Replica of Old Valyria be dusted and webbed.
―Alicent will; Aeonar might too mentally drained to even see him. And yes, Jaehaerys will still work on that Old Valyria model with his grandpa
Will Unwin Peake be a more dangerous opponent than Beatrice?
―In regards to being more cunning than his daughter, yes
Will it still be Daemon, or perhaps Aeonar who helps King Viserys up the steps of the Iron Throne?
―Both
Who will crown Aeonar, Daemon or Rhaenyra? With Rhaenyra, as Visenya crowned Aegon the Conqeuror, so Rhaenyra crown Aeonar. With Daemon, him crowning his nephew who he once viewed as a rival, would show that rivalry has passed?
―Can't spoil anything until we get to that point.
garrysprawson123: Wow Aeonar is truly Viserys Son!
XavierWright: Daemon's the one who had Laenor bumped off, isn't he.
―That's what the rumors suggest, but I left a vague clue in the previous chapter
Moran: Well, everything went as well as to be expected. At least Aeonar didn't cut himself on the throne. Maybe because he's Hand or still the heir and that sort of curse only applies to Kings or Queens.
mpowers045: I just hope they name their kids different In this story like Gaemon and Maelys or something
―I've got some names