Red Keep ― Training courtyard…
The Velaryon princes Jacaerys and his younger brother Lucerys stepped foot in the Red Keep's training yard after being away for more than six years. The place had undergone many changes, but some things remained the same. As they made their way down the battlements leading into the yard, familiar and new faces greeted them. Memories came flooding back as they reminisced about their boyhood home.
"Smaller than I remember," Lucerys remarked.
"It looks exactly the same," Jacaerys disagreed. "Oh, Luke, come on."
As the two teenagers made their way to the yard, they could hear the distinct sound of swords clashing together, the shuffling of movements, and faint grunts filling the air. The Kingsguard knights, Ser Arryk and his twin brother Ser Erryk, were practicing their swordsmanship against each other. With curious onlookers watching, the Cargyll twins seemed evenly matched in skill, durability, and tenacity. After all, they were tasked with guarding the royal family and had to push themselves to be the best warriors they could be. Even though they were already considered among the seven best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms, Arryk and Erryk trained vigorously daily to ensure they were effective Kingsguard knights. Members of the Blacks silently acknowledged Jace and Luke, but followers of the Caltrops eyed them closely with suspicious intrigue. Jacaerys didn't seem to mind, yet Lucerys was visibly uncomfortable as too many people stared at them.
Before them laid a variety of training weapons designed for slashing and bludgeoning; swords, daggers, knives, maces, clubs, morning stars, etc. Lucerys looked at them and picked up a sword, but somehow it felt heavier than he last remembered.
However, Jace rushed over to the wall near the gates, where he saw a missing portion of the wall. "See? I told you this would still be here," he pointed out. "And you thought you could swing Criston's morningstar. And you almost took your own head off." He ruffled his brother's head and examined the selection of armaments. Noticing Luke's discomfort, Jace rolled his eyes. "What's your problem?" he asked, picking up a short sword.
"Everyone's staring at us," Lucerys explained.
"So? Yaah!"
"No one would question us being Velaryons nor you being heir to Driftmark… if… if we looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."
Oh, please. Not this again, Luke. "Ugh, it doesn't matter what they think. It's what you do that counts. Let them stare. They can gossip all they want, but it still doesn't change anything."
"You say that now, cousin, but even a united front motivated by a common cause can do more harm than good," Aegon and his twin Viserys arrived, accompanied by their youngest brother Daeron.
Jace stood there, noticing Aegon the Younger, Viserys, and Daeron making their grand entrance. "Well, look who decided to join us!" he exclaimed readily before his cousins. He then turned to the twins and confidently asked, "Let me guess, Aegon?" he pointed to one of them. "And Viserys?" he asked the other.
"Correct," Viserys nodded in agreement, confirming Jace's guess.
On the other hand, Aegon was a bit disappointed. "At least you got it right. Unlike Prince Daemon, who can't seem to tell us apart," he said sarcastically.
"We're twins, Aegon. Of course, people would have difficulty knowing the difference between us based on appearance alone. It takes time. I mean, take a look at Arryk and Erryk. Not even grandfather or the other Kingsguards could tell them apart."
"You know, Luke, you worry too much about what others think of you," Daeron teased. Despite being a year younger than Luke, Daeron stood almost as tall as him and held his ground.
"I can't help it," Lucerys stressed. "I didn't ask to look like this."
"Ah, come on! Don't give me that pitiful excuse! The Queen Who Never Was is a Targaryen who had black hair when she was younger, but no one said a word, and nobody cared."
"Exactly, Luke," Jacaerys agreed. "You shouldn't let these things get under your skin so easily."
Viserys raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked doubtfully.
"Really. Why should it matter?"
"Does it bother you when you hear the Caltrops whispering 'Strong' behind your backs? Or would you prefer them call you that to your faces instead?" Aegon leaned close for a whisper, speaking to ensure the other nobles surrounding them didn't overhear them.
Jace let out a frustrated sigh and shifted his posture slightly, showing signs of agitation.
"See? Thought so."
Viserys sighed. "Listen to me, Jace, Luke. No matter what people say about you, you're still our cousins. You know you can always count on us for support. We're family, and that's all that matters," he reassured them. Jace and Luke listened intently as their cousin continued. "But I won't lie; the road ahead might be tough. You'll be under much scrutiny when the petition hearings begin. The Caltrops will parade you before the eyes of every highborn noble at court like a common soldier on inspection and pick over every perceived flaw to bring you down. So when you step into the dragon's lair, Jace, be sure to keep a level head, make a strong case to defend yourself with and do not let your emotions get the better of you. Because that's what the Caltrops will be hoping for. We're counting on you to rise above it all."
Jacaerys and Lucerys shared a common understanding that they would face criticism and differential treatment, irrespective of their physical appearance and background. However, as the sound of clashing swords intensified, Jace, Luke, Aegon, and Viserys hastened their pace around the corner to witness an intense duel between two skilled combatants. The sight was awe-inspiring as the fighters locked in a fierce exchange of blows, each maneuvering with agility and precision.
"Guys!" Daeron exclaimed. "Come on! Jay's fighting Aemond!" he beckoned them over.
Jace and Luke bolted forward when their uncle's and cousin's names were mentioned, demanding to be taken to the site immediately. The group was led to the center, where they witnessed an intense and electrifying duel between the Targaryen princes, Jaehaerys and Aemond. The two rivals had pushed themselves to their physical limits over the past six years, each expertly blocking and dodging the other's strikes before launching their counterattacks. Jaehaerys held a straight-edged king sword, while Aemond wielded a curved saber. Both blades had been blunted to prevent serious harm, but everyone knew that even a blunted weapon could be dangerous in the right hands. The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed throughout the courtyard as the two princes fought for supremacy.
"Come on, Jay. You can do it," Daeron said through gritted teeth.
Onlookers from both factions, the Blacks and Caltrops, stood at a respectable distance from the ongoing duel between the princes. Only Ser Criston Cole dared to approach and observe the proceedings with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. However, his expression soon turned sour as Aeonar's eldest son retaliated swiftly like his uncle. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and all eyes were fixed intently on the two princes as they clashed swords.
"How long have they been going at it?" Lucerys asked.
One of the Blacks murmured. "Almost an hour," he said.
"Well, Jaehaerys's got this in the bag. Right?" Jacaerys said with confidence.
Aegon shook his head. "No, Jace," he said. "You two weren't here to see everything that's happened these past six years. You didn't see what we've seen. They're both tied, four and four."
"Wha…? How is that possible?!"
The tension in the yard was palpable as the two princes faced off in the duel. Every movement was calculated and deliberate as their swords clashed against each other. The blunted edges of their weapons ground together, adding to the intense atmosphere. It was a battle of wills, and both Aemond and Jaehaerys were determined to come out on top.
"Aemond is a formidable opponent," Viserys stated. "The Caltrops carefully studied our movements and attack patterns. They passed this information along to Ser Criston, who used it to mercilessly exploit our weaknesses by teaching Aemond how to hit us."
"He defeated us," Aegon explained further. "Me, Viserys, Daeron… even if it was one-on-one or attacking in a group, Aemond still beat us. We didn't even have a slim chance." His brow furrowed.
Daeron puffed his cheeks. "He got lucky, that's all," he mumbled grumpily.
"Luck had nothing to do with it. So far, only our brother has held his own against our uncle. Just as they've been studying us, Jay's been studying him very closely. But it was never the same for long. It was always a constant struggle between them."
Both Jaehaerys and Aemond appeared to be nearly equal in terms of martial prowess. Still, the main difference between the two was a fiery internal drive drove one, whereas, in contrast, the other had a calmer, analytical approach to fighting. Yet both were serious. Each move made by one was met with a swift and decisive counter from the other. Their movements were lightning-fast, and their agility was remarkable. It was clear that both combatants were evenly matched, and neither was able to gain any significant advantage over the other.
Suddenly, Aemond broke the deadlock with a swift elbow strike to Jaehaerys's jaw. The blow landed hard, and it seemed like Aemond had the upper hand for a moment. However, Jaehaerys quickly responded with a spinning hook kick that caught Aemond off guard. Aimed directly at his blind spot, the kick spun Aemond around and forced him to his knees. Seeing an opening, Jaehaerys tried to choke Aemond from behind, but his opponent was not so easily defeated. With a quick flip, Aemond threw Jaehaerys over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. But before Aemond could do anything else, Jaehaerys landed a powerful kick to Aemond's head. The blow was enough to knock Aemond down, but he was not out of the fight yet. With fierce determination, both sprang back to their feet, ready to continue the fight. Both combatants were back to square one, and it was clear that neither prince would give up easily.
"Both sides were constantly watching, observing, and improving themselves, striving to become better fighters," Viserys revealed. "Ser Criston trained Aemond just as hard as father trained Jaehaerys, and the training never stopped. It was a never-ending cycle of improvement and growth."
The duel was so intense that it kept the audience on the edge of the dueling ring. Each move was greeted with gasps and cheers as the two princes fought. It was a remarkable spectacle that would be remembered for years to come.
In a tense moment, Jaehaerys and Aemond swung their swords around in near-perfect unison and held them dangerously close to each other's throats, marking the ninth consecutive time the duel had ended in a draw between them.
"Look at that," one of the spectators remarked.
"Another stalemate. They're still tied," another mentioned.
"The struggle continues…"
Criston approached. "Well done, my princes," he said. "You'll win tourneys in no time."
"I don't give a shit about tourneys," Aemond showed no interest and made it explicitly clear.
"Tourneys are revered events that draw the attention of ambitious and skilled young lords and knights who seek to demonstrate their abilities. It is a prestigious and significant occasion that should not be underestimated or disregarded," Jaehaerys remarked calmly and patiently. He turned to see Jace and Luke among the crowd. "Ah, cousins."
Aemond saw them too. "Nephews, have you come to train?" he inquired coolly with a menacing edge.
Viserys gave Jace and Luke a warning look before speaking hushedly. "I meant what I said earlier, cousins. Don't let Aemond's missing eye fool you - it's been six years, but he's a force to be reckoned with. Don't underestimate him," he cautioned.
Jacaerys and Lucerys couldn't help but feel uneasy as they locked eyes with their uncle, Prince Aemond Targaryen. The last time they saw him, they were just mischievous kids, always teasing and taunting him. But now, as a young man almost as tall as their cousin, Aemond exuded a frightening and menacing aura. His intense gaze pierced through them, and they couldn't help but feel trapped in his presence. Beneath his eyepatch, they knew he was hiding a gruesome scar and empty eyesocket inflicted on him by Luke six years ago, earning him the moniker 'Aemond One-Eye.' It was clear that Aemond had grown bolder and more violent, keeping his emotions tightly under control. The training ground felt suffocating, and the Velaryon princes couldn't even muster the courage to move.
"Open the gates!" the guards shouted.
Upon opening the gates to the renowned Red Keep, a grand procession entered, led by none other than Ser Vaemond Velaryon, accompanied by his entourage and a group of House Peake guardsmen. Vaemond had spared no expense in making a grand entrance, with his honor guard donning the most extravagant of armor and carrying a brilliant banner emblazoned with the sigil of House Velaryon. The renowned captain was adorned in the most opulent silk cloth, and a chain of silver and sapphires adorned his neck. As he passed by the formidable Jace and Luke, Ser Vaemond met their intimidating glares with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. In addition to his personal entourage, he was accompanied by his two sons, Daeron and Daemion Velaryon, both of whom were esteemed captains in the Velaryon fleet. The moment the procession advanced past them, Jace and Luke were acutely aware of the gravity of the situation.
"They're here," Aegon said.
"And so they are," Viserys echoed. He leaned in to whisper into Jace's ear. "Looks like the Peakes are standing with him. That means the rest of the Caltrops probably also support Ser Vaemond's attempt to challenge your claim as the rightful heir to Driftmark. But because grandfather is sick and unable to help, we need our father to side with us."
"Can't something be done about it?" Jacaerys asked.
"We tried, but it seems like the queen found a clever way to work around the inheritance laws and put our father in a tight spot. Even with his position as Hand of the King, there are certain rules that can't be bent even by the highest authorities. He will have no choice but to be fair and hear both sides of the argument, yours and his. Take that with a grain of salt if you must, but it's the only bit of good news we'll be able to secure for you."
Jacaerys felt incredibly convinced that the situation was nothing more than a political ploy orchestrated by Queen Beatrice and the Caltrops. He was resolute in not allowing anyone to try and take away his rightful inheritance. He sought reassurance from his cousin Jaehaerys, who picked up on his cousin's thoughts and gave him a nod of understanding. As the eldest son of the Young Dragon and second-in-line for the Iron Throne, Jace knew that Jaehaerys would be his strongest supporter in defending his claim to Driftmark when the time came. Jace was relieved to sense that he had a solid support system, consisting of his cousins, mother, stepfather, and many others within the Blacks. Jace wasn't about to grovel or suffer any more humiliation. He knew he needed to stand firm and fight to secure his place as Lord Corlys's rightful heir, no matter what. "Then we should practice what to say," he suggested. "Teach me."
Viserys nodded. "Come with me. A head start would be most beneficial," he said.
As Viserys led Jacaerys and Lucerys away to rehearse what to say in preparation for the upcoming petition hearing, Jaehaerys and Aemond watched in stoic silence. Aegon and Daeron fixed their eyes on their kin as they prepared for another round of sparring. The House of the Dragon was in for a gloomy day as the sound of thunder grew louder in the distance.
Red Keep ― Small Council chamber…
Aeonar sat stoically at the head of the small council chamber, his hands forming a pyramid. Beside him sat his father-in-law, Ser Otto Hightower, and his lady wife and consort, Alicent, placed her hands on his shoulders. The Young Dragon had received word that Ser Vaemond had established himself in the Red Keep and requested a private audience with Aeonar once he concluded his business with the queen. Of course, the meeting would be behind closed doors, but as Prince of Dragonstone, Grand Master of the Lykirī Mēre, and Hand of the King, Aeonar had already established his dominance with the Lykirī Mēre in the room as his guards. With their bo staffs held tight in their left hands and their right hands at their sides, they watched Vaemond closely as he entered the room.
"Hold your nerve, Lord Hand," Otto advised. As a former Hand, he remained in his role as a political advisor to his son-in-law. "What we do, we do for the good of the realm."
I know, Otto. I know.
Alicent, on the other hand, was rather tense. "Still, I must confess a certain uneasiness now this is at hand. Lord Corlys may yet live," she said. Even she had her doubts and reservations. But according to Aeonar's firsthand account of fighting alongside Corlys against the Triarchy in the Stepstones two decades ago, Corlys was a resilient and formidable opponent who was not so easily defeated. While his injury was a cause for concern, Aeonar assured Alicent that he had the utmost faith in Corlys and was confident he would pull through.
"But we must be prepared if he does not," Vaemond replied before sitting beside Otto.
"The realm has enjoyed a long peace, a credit to the work of both Jaehaerys and Viserys, but the threat of war looms and may arrive on our shores. When it does, the question stands: will you want a child at the command of the greatest fleet in Westeros or an experienced seafarer who understands the layabouts of Driftmark and its inhabitants?"
You sound like you're playing both sides. A dangerous game, father-in-law. A very dangerous one at best.
"Oh, we must, of course… act in the interest of our subjects," Alicent remarked.
"I won't bore you with the details, but I'm sure you're aware of what's at stake," Vaemond said, leaning closer. "House Velaryon has made significant progress these past twenty years, thanks partly to the alliance between our two houses - an alliance forged by you and my brother. You were there with us at the Stepstones, fighting beside us and even granting us the largest dragon in the world for a brief time. And let's not forget how instrumental your strategies were in helping us gain control over the crucial shipping lanes after we defeated the Crabfeeder. Since we possess the largest fleet in the realm, Driftmark is truly a force to be reckoned with. The next Lord of the Tides will be deeply in your debt, Young Dragon, as will House Velaryon… in all its strength. Might you agree that continuing this partnership would be of great value?"
"Forgive me, Ser Vaemond, but are you attempting to bargain with us before the hearing?"
"Bargain? Such a word. I only request the crown acknowledge my rights as my brother's rightful heir. House Targaryen rules the skies with their dragons, but House Velaryon rules the seas with our navy. Aside from the Celtigars, we are the only Valyrian bloodlines to survive the Doom. Leave our past differences aside, my Lord Hand, and the full might of Driftmark will forever be at your disposal."
Aeonar shifted his gaze towards Otto and Vaemond; he couldn't help but ponder over Corlys's brother's ulterior motives. Despite being a constant source of irritation and trouble in the past, Otto was now attempting to cozy up to him. A vocal and headstrong individual, Otto's ambitious tendencies were undeniable. However, his insubordinate nature had previously warranted a death sentence for someone else. Careful now, Vaemond. You're just as ambitious as Corlys, but you risk overextending yourself. "It is true that the strength in unity behind Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, the last of Old Valyria's great families, is indeed strong," he stated, "and while I do wish to see such an alliance continue, I cannot, in good judgment, make a formal decision until after the petitions of both claimants are heard." Beatrice might think herself clever by invoking the laws regarding the right of inheritance set by the Great Council, but she fails to understand that the pendulum swings both ways. He raised a hand before Vaemond could protest. "You have three days to prepare. Nothing more, nothing less." And you will not dare try to bribe me like that again. I will not allow you to bring shame upon the legacy of the powerful Valyrian dragonlords—the last of our kind.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Well guys, we again see Jacaerys and Lucerys's differing personalities regarding what people think when they look at them. Who do you think is more your favorite? But Aegon, Viserys, and Daeron still stand beside their cousins as the petition hearings grow closer. However, we once again see Aemond and Jaehaerys battling it out again, yet with a different scenario. What was your guys' thoughts on Aegon's and Viserys's comments about Aemond One-Eye changing drastically? What about their skills? More importantly, what of Ser Vaemond in the private audience with Aeonar? Let your thoughts be known as we get closer to the showdown.
garrysprawson123: man i love this chapter, and i have this question, i know your not supposed to spoil anything but what would happen if Jace couldn't inherit Driftmark what will be his reaction that Aeonar his won uncle bestowed driftmark to Viserys and Rhaena instead of him and his brothers
―He'd be pretty pissed
randomdude24: Interesting that Aemond and Jay are equals, I do consider Aemond the most dangerous member of the Caltrops, he's fearless in a sense, skilled in battle, with the largest dragon in his control, but he's immature who believes those who don't fight are cowards or cravens. This is what I think makes him predictable, his need to fight. I do have a question, Aeonar trained all his children, Jay is the most skilled in my aspects, but in his fights with Aemond is he hiding any tricks up his sleeve Aemond would never see coming?
xJehova: Thanks for the recent updates, I like the way the story is moving. I would enjoy seeing more of Aeonar's perspective and Lykiri action. Thanks for the read!