I am proud to present to you Chapter 3 of Blood of Valyria!
So, this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones but it is somewhat of a filler. It takes place six months after the whole naming Rhaenyra heir schtick, and basically reveals more of Aenar's inner thoughts on his family, as well as a special bonding scene with him and someone else.
I never specified this in previous chapters, but I've taken a sort of different route for Daemon in this story. For one, he never does the whole Heir for a Day shit so he isn't exiled. As for the Iron Throne, yes he still wants it but he doesn't expect it since he was never the official heir like he was in canon. There are reasons for him being slightly less ambitious and I will have a POV of him in the next or later chapters which will elaborate on those reasons.
In the meantime, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! And thank you to everyone who left a review last time and followed and favorited this story! I really appreciate it!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones characters in the story or from the novel, A Song of Ice and Fire. Only the OCs included are mine and any original plots.
Chapter 3 : Fractured
Months passed since that faithful day yet, Aenar's bitter anger had not waned in the slightest. If anything, it had grown stronger than ever before. And the reason for that was the whispers. The damn whispers which had grown in volume since that day. Every where he went, he could hear them. They didn't even bother trying to hide it anymore. Since the King had decreed him unworthy, they all saw him as easy pickings and the lords and ladies of the realm loved nothing more than bringing a Prince of the blood down.
He tried to maintain his perfect stature. He tried to ignore all the harsh words directed to him and the praises sang in Rhaenyra's name. He tried to go back to the way things had been. But he was slowly slipping. The shame that had been painted on his back was slowly breaking him, piece by piece. The walls of the Red Keep felt like they were closing in on him and he wanted to get out before he was suffocated. He needed to get out.
Aenar had not talked to his father yet. The man hadn't the gall to come face to face with him after what he did. The dirty blond haired youth wasn't quite sure how he would react if he were to see Viserys in front of him. He liked to believe that he'd be angry, that he'd break a few things, that he'd even punch the King across the face just for good measure. The last one seemed like it would be fun to do.
Rhaenyra had tried to talk to him but each time she did, he had brushed her off. He had no intention of talking to her. He didn't even want to see her. If his mother were here right now, she would be probably be cross with him but he couldn't help. His sister was the walking reminder that he would never be good enough. That he was a failure; that he was unworthy.
The only one in his family who he had actually spoken to was his uncle Daemon. The Rogue Prince, as he had been dubbed by the people of the realm, had took Rogar's place as his sparring partner after the young Baratheon lad took his leave for Storm's End. It would be a stretch to say they held actual conversation with one another; they usually just greeted each other and then started trading blows with their swords. However, those spars were exactly what he needed as they served as an excellent outlet for all his anger and frustration.
"Good morrow, my Prince."
Aenar blinked as he was ripped away from his innermost thoughts and turned his head to see the Lady Alicent standing a few feet away from him with a book in her hands and a nervous look on her face. This scene appeared awfully familiar to him. It was just like that night six months ago, during the hours after his mother's death. He remembered that night as well as the conversation the two of them had. He remembered the genuine look of sorrow on her face when she spoke to him, a stark contrast from the looks he had gotten from the other nobles. He had not talked to her since then.
"Lady Alicent." The dirty blond haired youth greeted with a firm nod. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"I…uhm…I…" The Hightower girl fidgeted nervously.
"I was joking, my Lady."
"Oh…" Alicent mumbled as she lowered her head and Aenar couldn't help but let out a sigh.
"Am I truly that frightening?" The Targaryen Prince questioned the noble lady with an eyebrow raised elegantly.
Alicent quickly shook her head. "No, my Prince, not at all. It's just…I am not used to speaking with…you."
Aenar nodded understandingly. "We are strangers to one another. You mentioned that the last time we had a conversation, in this very place I believe." He then turned to look at her, violet eyes meeting soft brown. "Perhaps, we should remedy that."
The Hightower girl blinked in confusion. "My Prince?"
The dirty blond haired youth waved a hand at the vacant grassy spot next to him. "Rogar has left for Storm's End and I find myself with a distinct lack of…duties…to attend to these days. So, if you want, we can get to know each other. Unless…you have somewhere else to be?"
"No…I do not." Alicent mumbled after a moment of pondering. She clenched her book tightly as she slowly made her way to the spot next to Aenar and sat down, keeping a bit of distance between them. The Targaryen Prince glanced at the girl next to him, his violet eyes thoughtful. The quiet surroundings of the garden enveloped them, creating an intimate atmosphere. The sun high above cast a warm glow, highlighting the shadows of the leaves in the tree and the patterns in the Hightower girl's gown.
The silence lingered on for a few more moments before the Targaryen Prince broke it. "I must admit, I'm not too sure how to start a conversation. I never had to make an effort before. When I met Rogar, he had more than enough to talk about for the both of us. I suppose I can't expect you to be the same way."
Alicent ducked her head, a light shade of pink dusting her cheeks. "I believe that being socially inept is something you and I have in common, my Prince."
"Perhaps you are right." Aenar replied with a chuckle. "Tell me, my Lady, what occupies your time in the Red Keep these days? It must difficult being left out…what with my sister so caught in her duties as heir."
The Hightower girl looked up, meeting his eyes briefly before glancing away. "It isn't too bad. I usually just spend my hours reading. Books…they have always served as a type of haven for me, I suppose."
The dirty blond haired youth nodded in understanding. "The last time you and I talked, you were reading a book on the Age of Heroes. Are there any other stories or books you fancy?"
Alicent hesitated before answering. "I…I enjoy histories, mostly. Stories of gallant knights and medieval romances. I know it is…somewhat stereotypical considering…"
Aenar shook his head as she trailed off in her words. "Not at all. I find those stories interesting myself, especially the tales about Symeon Star-Eyes. Though I prefer more the stories from the Age of Valyria."
"You are a Targaryen, my Prince. Your fascination with your family's history is to be expected, don't you think?" The Hightower girl said with a hint of amusement in her voice.
The Targaryen Prince smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is."
The silence quickly settled again, but this time it felt less awkward than before. Aenar found himself appreciating the simplicity of their conversation. No politics, no expectations – just two individuals sharing a quiet moment. All his frustrations and anger at the recent events – while still present – had been pushed to the far recess of his inner mind.
"Do you miss your home, Lady Alicent?" Aenar asked after a while, breaking the silence once more.
Alicent blinked in surprise at the sudden question before her features turned thoughtful. "…I'm afraid I don't really remember too much of Oldtown, however, I do miss my brothers, Gwayne and Tristian. I remember when I was six, my brothers made a plan to outsmart my uncle's guards and sneak into the kitchens. Of course, they dragged me into it."
Aenar hummed in amusement. "I assume they got caught?"
"Caught and punished. Uncle Hobert made them clean the horse stables for a week." The noble lady stifled her laughter behind her hand before speaking. "Another time, Tristian convinced my mother's seamstress that she was secretly a Targaryen Princess."
The dirty blond haired youth blinked. "Come again?"
Alicent shook her head. "Don't ask, I'm not sure how he accomplished it myself. But I remember that the poor girl wore silver and purple ribbons in her hair for a month before mother found out."
Aenar nodded along to her words though he'd be lying if he said he shared her experiences. Rhaenyra and he had always avoided each other like the plague. It seemed sibling companionship was another thing Targaryens were absolutely shit at. Clearing his throat, he decided to change the subject. "And what of King's Landing? I know it's been years since you arrived here, but what do you think about it?"
The Hightower girl's gaze fell slightly. "Its…not as glamorous as I thought it would be. Nothing like the stories, I've heard."
"Stories have a way of manipulating the truth to fit an ideal image." The Targaryen Prince said softly. "When people from the other kingdoms talk about King's Landing, they mention the gallant tourneys and the extravagant feasts…they never talk about the smell of shit or the lies and manipulation. I suppose that is why I prefer the simplicity of Storm's End to the capital."
"Simplicity is a rare commodity these days." Alicent murmured and met Aenar's violet eyes. "But I understand the sentiment."
The rest of their conversation flowed effortlessly, each question leading to the discussion of another topic. Slowly, Alicent began to let her walls down and spoke with more confidence in her voice. She shared more and more of her past, her family, her interest, stories from her childhood. Aenar found himself enjoying the comfort of her company. The last time he had talked to the noble lady, her words had helped ease the pain that had been wrought after his mother's passing. This time as well, her words, her company, served as a respite from the constant scrutiny and whispers that haunted him. The weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter, if only for a moment.
Unfortunately, all good things were eventually bound to come to an end and the conversations of theirs ended when his Ser Arryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard walked up to them.
"My Prince." The White Sword Knight bowed in greeting. "The King requests your presence and sent me to retrieve you."
Aenar's smile immediately evaporated and a scowl took its place. After six months of silence and avoiding him, his father finally deigned to acknowledge his existence. Hiding his irritation behind a stoic mask, the dirty blond haired youth rose to his feet. Despite his inner feelings, he was still a Prince of House Targaryen. No matter how hard it was, especially now, he had an image to maintain and he could not simply refuse to heed the King's command.
"Thank you for your time, Lady Alicent." Aenar said to the Hightower girl as she stood up as well. "Perhaps, we can continue our conversation another time."
Alicent smiled softly and bowed her head. "I…I would like that, my Prince."
Aenar cast one last glance at the noble lady before he turned and made his way into the Red Keep, Ser Arryk following closely behind.
Silence filled the hall of the dining room. Other than the sounds of forks and knives scratching against the dinner plates along with the crickets chirping in the gardens outside, Viserys shared a quiet dinner with his two remaining children by candlelight. Aenar sat two seats away from him in the middle and Rhaenyra sat across from him.
"It's...nice that we could spend time together like this. As a family." Viserys broke the silence. "The three of us."
Aenar wore a cold and stoic mask as he quietly ate his meal. He wasn't going to bother acknowledging either his father or sister. This whole meal was a farce; a feeble attempt by his father to mend bridges that he himself had burned. He refused to entertain it. The sooner he ate his meal, the quicker he could leave. Unfortunately, his sister had other ideas.
"I agree." The Targaryen Princess spoke up after clearing her throat. "The three of us haven't spoken much in these past months."
Viserys nodded at Rhaenyra's words before glancing at Aenar with sorrowful eyes. "That is something I plan to remedy. Your mother's absence is a wound that will never heal. Without her…the Red Keep has lost a warmth that I daresay it will never recover."
Aenar's frosty demeanor seemed to melt slightly while his sister blinked and lowered her gaze down to her plate. Amidst his reignited grief, he couldn't help but wonder how his mother would have reacted to him being pushed aside as heir. Would she have agreed with his father's decision? Or would she have fought against it? He closed his eyes and shook his head. Whatever Aemma Arryn would or could have done, frankly, did not matter. She wasn't of this world anymore and there was no pointing in wasting time, mulling over the thoughts of the dead.
Viserys gave a faint smile as he spoke once again. "I still miss her. Every day. I loved her…very much."
"We all did." Rhaenyra murmured as she gently ripped apart a piece of meat using her utensils before eating it.
The Targaryen King shifted in his seat after a moment of silence and cleared his throat. "There are certain matters I wish to discuss with the two of you. Matters of the realm and of our kin. Matters that pertain to the duty that you two owe to House Targaryen. Something that is expected of you."
Aenar sat a little straighter in his chair at his father's words. He understood what matters Viserys was talking about, at least one of them. Rhaenyra seemed to realize as well as a small scowl twisted her features. "You are referring to marriage, aren't you?"
The Targaryen King nodded his head. "As of now, our line is far too vulnerable; far too easily ended. However, if you two marry, you may begin to ensure that we are better defended."
"Against whom?" Rhaenyra questioned, lifting a delicate eyebrow in curiosity.
"Against whomever wishes to do us harm or dare challenge us." Viserys stated firmly.
"What of you?" Aenar spoke for the first time since the meal had begun, his voice stoic and cold. "The lords of the realm will expect you to remarry, will they not?"
Rhaenyra's scowl tightened at her brother's words while Viserys let out a tired sigh. "They were. But I told them that I would not be seeking another bride. Aemma…I have no intention of ever replacing her. Besides, I am too old and already have a legacy of my own. If I wish to further strengthen the Targaryen bloodline, then I must look to the future; I must look to the both of you."
Aenar grunted but nodded, nonetheless. At least his father was doing one right thing and preserving their mother's memory. Rhaenyra seemed content with his decision as well as she sent the man a pleasant grin.
"Have you any prospects in mind for us?" The Targaryen Princess asked.
"Actually, I do." Viserys replied quickly. Too quickly. "Well, I have one for you, daughter. Lord Corlys approached me with a proposition earlier in the day; he wishes to betroth his son Laenor to you."
Rhaenyra blinked at their father's words. "What?"
The Targaryen King chuckled at the flabbergasted expression on his daughter's face. "The Sea Snake has always been an ambitious man, however, even I must admit that it would make a good match. Laenor is of pure Valyrian descent. He shares blood with the Princess Rhaenys, and is a member of the wealthiest House of the realm."
Rhaenyra shifted uneasily. "Have you accepted the proposal then?"
Viserys shook his head. "No, Rhaenyra. I wanted to hear your thoughts before making any decisions. I value your happiness, and I won't force you into a marriage you find objectionable."
She took a deep breath, her initial frustration beginning to subside. "Thank you, father. I appreciate your consideration. It's just...I do not wish to marry…at least not yet."
The Targaryen King frowned but nodded, nonetheless. "I will respect your wishes for now, daughter. However, I must stress that no noble in this realm exists above tradition and duty. Sooner or later, marriage will be a trial you will have no choice but to face."
The Targaryen Princess bowed her head slightly. "I understand, father."
As he observed the exchange between his sister and father, Aenar couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration rising within him. How could Rhaenyra be so naïve, so oblivious to the necessity of securing alliances for House Targaryen? Her words sounded like the whimpering of a child, unaware of the dangers and responsibilities that awaited them. They were not ordinary nobles, with the luxury of choosing their own paths. Their choices carried the weight of House Targaryen's survival.
His father's willingness to entertain Rhaenyra's reluctance only fueled Aenar's frustration. The King's soft approach, the consideration he gave to Rhaenyra's wishes, felt like a betrayal of the principles Aenar held dear, to the principles Viserys himself had forced onto him.
'Duty always supersedes personal feelings, Aenar. If you are to be King one day, you must understand that burden.'
Viserys' own words echoed in his mind. Yet, here he was, letting Rhaenyra ignore her duty to the realm, to their House. It seemed that even Viserys, for all his talk of duty and legacy, couldn't help but be swayed by his daughter's desires.
A heavy silence filled the dining room, stifling any further conversation. The only sound came from the monotonous scraping of utensils on plates as the Targaryens ate. As he chewed his food, Aenar could feel the persistent glances his father was sending in his direction. The man had a hesitant look on his face, almost as if he were trying to build up the courage to speak. This continued for another five minutes or so before Viserys finally cleared his throat, breaking the tense quiet.
"Aenar, my son…" Viserys began, addressing the dirty blond haired youth directly for the first time since their meal began. "I understand that you are wrought with us…with me…with the decision that I have made. But we cannot keep going on like this. The realm is watching us, now more than ever. For the good of our House, we must push our differences aside and present a united front."
Aenar blinked, before he lifted his head and met the King's eyes. He was unsure if he had heard his father correctly. Did he truly just tell him to ignore the shame and humiliation he was dealt with, not just for the past six months but his entire life? To pretend like nothing had happened, to go about his life as usual? To just bear the brunt of all the whispers and insults? No…he would not let that pass.
"You stripped me of my birthright." The Targaryen Prince began to speak, the anger inside him growing with every passing second. Yet, his voice was unnaturally steady, each word measured and deliberate. Aenar's gaze bore into his father, his violet eyes ablaze with an intense fire. "You humiliated me in front of the entire court. You cast me aside as if I were an unwanted relic! And you dare tell me that I must push aside my differences?!"
Rhaenyra watched on worriedly as Viserys leaned forwards, a plea in his violet eyes. "Aenar, I never meant to dishonor you. Your abilities and strength are not in question, but I did what I believed was necessary for the stability of the realm. You are my son, and I love you, but as King, I have to make choices that cannot please everyone."
Aenar pushed his chair back abruptly, the wooden legs scraping against the hard surface of the floor. "Then why didn't you make this choice sooner? If in your eyes, I was never meant to rule, why did you have me believe that I was? Every choice I ever took was made to please you. To meet the expectations that you had laid out for me. And now, you have declared me unworthy, confirming the rumors that have circulated this keep for the past fourteen years. Yet, you speak of unity?"
"Brother—" Rhaenyra began to say but the Targaryen Prince quickly cut her off by bringing his fist down on the table with a resounding thud.
"I am not going to sit here and bear lectures from you, Rhaenyra!" He spat, his voice filled with venom.
"Aenar, I am willing to give you responsibilities, a role in the court that befits your status." Viserys declared, desperation creeping into his voice. "We can rebuild the trust between us, but you must be willing to let go of this resentment."
Aenar clenched his teeth and surged to his feet, the tension in the room at its peak. "I will do my duty to my House. I will do whatever is necessary for the good of the realm. But I will not forget the choice you made, nor will I forgive it. That is all I have to say."
With his words said and done, he cast one last piercing look at his father and sister before leaving the dining room without uttering another word.