Red Keep ― Training courtyard…
Throughout the day's progression, the Velaryon brothers, Jacaerys and Lucerys, were observed training in the courtyard, overseen by the ever-watchful Ser Steffon Darklyn, the second most senior Kingsguard knight after their Lord Commander. Ser Steffon keenly observed the stark contrast between Jace's fighting style and Luke's attempts at self-defense: Jace wielded his sword with fierce determination, quickly overpowering his younger brother and leaving no room for Luke to maneuver. It was evident that Prince Jacaerys was the superior fighter between the two, as he rapidly knocked Prince Lucerys's training sword out of his hand, delivering a gut-wrenching blow and ultimately sending him to the ground by kicking out his feet from underneath him. Such was the extent of Prince Jacaerys' fighting prowess that Prince Lucerys had no chance of victory.
"What was that?" Jacaerys gripped his brother's arm.
"I'm sorry," Lucerys grunted as he scrambled.
"You might go easier on him, my prince, so he can learn what you're trying to teach," Steffon intervened.
With his twin Viserys by his side, Aegon observed the scene before them. "He's still too fired up after the attempted coup," he remarked.
"Motivation can swing both ways, Jace. Being too riled up can lead to mistakes," Viserys cautioned.
"We can't be complacent while the Caltrops are still out there when they tried to steal uncle's throne," Jacaerys said, panting.
"This is why your dedication may be used against you."
"Jace, you often forget your limits because you're too eager for payback," explained Aegon.
"When under pressure, a leader should remain calm and composed in order to analyze the situation, whether it be their surroundings or the adversary," Viserys advised.
« Your blood is running too high. There's a difference between bravery and recklessness. You have a tendency to forget that. »
As Jacaerys pondered his next move, he found himself reflecting on the wise words his cousin Jaehaerys had spoken during the last supper with their grandfather King Viserys before he died. Those words had stayed with him, especially now when he moved to aggressively confront Aemond over the insults aimed at him and his brothers Luke and Joffrey. He couldn't help but feel frustrated with his own hot-headedness, but he knew that clarity often comes in moments of calm reflection. Things had become more complicated with Jaehaerys going to Harrenhal with Ser Otto Hightower. Jacaerys knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he was determined to face whatever lay on with courage and honor.
"Dragons returning!" scouts reported.
Amidst the vast expanse of the deep blue sky, five grandiose dragons - Vaelor, Syrax, Vermithor, Caraxes, and Silverwing - were soaring with grace and power, capturing the attention of every onlooker below. While the magnificent beasts were showcasing their might, the gates to the inner courtyard slowly began to creek, signaling the arrival of Otto and his household guard. The Hand's somber and stern expression revealed the outcome of the parley at Harrenhal, leaving a heavy sense of dread in the air. The young princes quickly grasped the reality that negotiations had failed, and the possibility of open warfare loomed close. Learning that the Blacks had given the Caltrops three days to reconsider their position, Aeonar felt foreboding as he realized they were on the brink of a dire situation. The stakes were high, and he was determined to honor his late father's memory by avoiding conflict. However, he knew that they must be prepared for anything, as the future of the Targaryen dynasty depended on it.
"Aemma!" Aegon rushed to his sister-wife, scooping her up in his arms. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked, planting kisses on her repeatedly while checking on her.
"I-I'm fine, Aegon. Really," Aemma dismissed, visibly embarrassed.
Alicent emerged from the Red Keep's main entrance, holding her granddaughter Saena in her arms. "What's happened?" she asked with concern evident in her voice.
"Mother," Jaehaerys approached, "it would be prudent for us to move this discussion indoors. There are several matters that we need to address." He turned to look behind him. "Aegon, Viserys, please gather Jace and Luke. They must be included in these deliberations." His gaze then shifted toward Aeonar and Rhaenyra. "Father, aunt Rhaenyra…"
"Everyone inside," Aeonar instructed, his face twisted in pain with his hand still gripping his head tightly.
Rhaenyra keenly watched the situation as she trailed her brother Aeonar at a reasonable distance. In the meantime, Daemon followed closely, expressing his dissatisfaction with Aeonar's handling of the matter. Being a true Targaryen at heart, Daemon's desire for action was palpable, and he was growing increasingly impatient with the mere complacency and idle talks that seemed to be taking place. His yearning for action was undeniable, and he hoped that the situation would soon take a more decisive turn.
Red Keep ― Small Council chamber…
"They what?!" Corlys roared in outrage.
Rhaenys and her husband both wore frowns. Not only had they lost both of their children, but the Caltrops had also stolen Seasmoke, the young dragon ridden by their deceased son, Ser Laenor Velaryon, which was all the more reason for House Velaryon to seek justice against the traitors.
"Yes, Lord Corlys. It is with regret that I must inform you that the Caltrops currently hold possession of your late son's dragon, Seasmoke," Jaehaerys conveyed in a formal tone.
"It's true," Aemma vouched. "I saw him myself. The Caltrops have him and Tessarion."
"Who has him," Corlys pressed.
"Hugh Hammer," Jaehaerys responded. "Unfortunately, not much is known about him beyond that he is a dragonseed hailing from Dragonstone. We questioned his father, a local blacksmith near Viserra, but he seemed just as surprised as we were. Since leaving to serve Beatrice, he has had no contact with his son or anything beyond that."
"What is to be done about him?" Jacaerys asked.
"Nothing yet," Rhaenyra stated. "Not while we still have three days to prepare." She turned her gaze to the other members of the council, her eyes scanning each face with a sense of urgency. "We are more familiar with Beatrice, my lords. There's no telling what the Dowager Queen will do to achieve her goals or how low she's more than willing to go."
"We should find out who our allies and enemies are," Viserys interjected.
"I agree," Otto said. "I'll send ravens to White Harbor, Gulltown, Bitterbridge, and many other seats to have them swear allegiance to their true king. We will also need to secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End."
Daemon scoffed. "Talks alone won't win support," he sneered. "It's no easy thing for a man to be a dragonslayer. But dragons can kill dragons. And have. The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than they do."
Aeonar placed one hand on the countertop, groaning in discomfort. "And I will not dishonor the wishes of my predecessors by tearing the House of the Dragon further asunder," he declared. "Should you intend to burn or maim my kingdom to uproot these pretenders, you must be ready to face the consequences just like anyone who dared to defy me." He then turned to Bartimos, his Master of Coin. "As King of the Seven Kingdoms, it is my duty to guarantee peace and unity, just like my father and great-grandfather before me. To defend the realm, not plunge it into war."
"That's your father talking," Daemon retorted. "The enemy has already declared war! What are you going to do about it?"
A small eternity passes. Then, each, except for a rare few, gets startled by an outburst of violence. Aeonar swats a flagon of wine sitting in front of him, sending it to shatter on the floor of the council chamber. "Need I remind you, Daemon, to whom father entrusted the future of House Targaryen? Our legacy? Or does your desire for war make you just as blind?"
"Father," Jaehaerys sensed the tension in the air.
"Father," Baela tried to intervene.
"Daemon, no," Rhaenyra quickly waved her hand, signaling for Daemon to stop. She was all too familiar with how her brother and uncle-husband would argue and promptly get at each other's throats whenever emotions ran high, and she didn't want to witness another argument between them.
"Are you not angry?" Daemon continued persisting.
"Should I declare war because I'm angry?" Aeonar approached.
"No, it's your duty as a king to quell this rebellion."
"I know my place, uncle. However, it's a shame you forget yours. Just because we both share the blood of Old Valyria, don't think it gives you the right to act above reproach. I thought the Song of Ice and Fire would help you understand that this goes beyond personal ambition; why father and I did what we each thought was best for the realm and our house."
Daemon looked confused. "What?" he inquired.
Aeonar smirked. "Ah. You've heard of it, I see," he realized. "Or do you pretend to?"
In an abrupt and explosive display of pent-up frustration, the Rogue Prince and the Young Dragon fiercely seized each other's collars, their knuckles turning white with the force of their grip. The tension in the small council chamber was palpable, and chaos ensued as those present scrambled to separate Daemon and Aeonar from each other. The Kingsguard drew their swords in response, but the Lykirī Mēre reacted equally swiftly, utilizing their concealed blades and bo staffs. The atmosphere was thick with apprehension as all present braced themselves for the uncertain outcome that could ensue, unsure of what the next moment would hold.
"No, don't! Stop this!"
"Father, let go!"
"Daemon, let him go!"
"Unhand the king this instant!"
"My brother…" Daemon angrily hissed, "was a slave to his omens and portents. Anything to make his feckless reign appear to have a purpose. Dreams didn't make us kings, nephew. Dragons did."
"Well, you're right about one thing, uncle," Aeonar said coldly, "but you're wrong about the other."
During the intense moment, both Daemon and Aeonar refused to let go of their grip, despite the fervent pleas of their respective families to release each other. This only served to remind Otto, Alicent, and Rhaenyra of the bitter rivalry between the Targaryens that had sparked this conflict in the first place. The memory of the tournament where Daemon had nearly caused fatal harm to Aeonar during the joust, and the subsequent replacement of Daemon as King Viserys's heir by Aeonar before that, flooded their minds. The tension in the air was palpable, and the slightest misstep could reignite the flames of their past animosity.
Suddenly, without warning, the crowd dispersed and moved away from them. The Rogue Prince's gaze shifted downwards to investigate the cause. Upon inspection, it became apparent that one of the Young Dragon's fingers had slipped through a spring-loaded mechanism attached to a gadget on his wrist. As Aeonar grasped onto Daemon's collar, his wrist subtly flicked, slowly causing a hidden blade to emerge from beneath his sleeve. Daemon could feel the blade's sharp point pricking at his neck, dangerously close to his carotid arteries. He then turned his attention back to Aeonar, realizing that he had extended one hand while simultaneously arming the other. At that moment, his nephew's words reminded him of a long-forgotten message that his late older brother had attempted to convey to him many years before.
ooOoo
Flashback: 27 years ago (105 AC)…
King Viserys stands in an empty throne room; his only company is the four giant statues representing the former Targaryen kings. Viserys toys absently with the Valyrian steel dagger he wears on his belt. The hilt is made of dragonbone. Footfalls click-clack on the stone, echoing through the cavernous room. Viserys is so lost in contemplation that he doesn't seem to hear their approach.
"Brother."
Prince Daemon's arrival finally pulls the king's attention. Daemon throws his arms around older his brother. The men hold the embrace for a long beat. There is real love here. But Viserys winces, his hidden wound hurting him. The king quickly withdraws from his brother, who notes this.
"How are you?" Daemon inquired.
Viserys sighed exhaustively. Even though it was two years into his reign, he looked almost a hundred years old. He does not answer Daemon directly. "Do you believe the gods have a design?" he asked.
"No. I don't think they give a wet shit about us."
"As Targaryens, we're thought to be 'closer to gods than to men.' That we were preserved from the Doom for some higher purpose."
Daemon searches Viserys, frustrated by his indirectness. "We got lucky. There's no shame in it," he dismissed arrogantly.
"It wasn't luck; it was a girl's Dreams. Daenys saw what was to come and saved us from it."
"That made for a good story. But Daenys's 'dreams' didn't make us kings. Aegon's and his sister-wives' dragons did, on the Field of Fire. Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes… all of them."
Viserys raised an eyebrow. "There were a thousand dragons in Old Valyria. So what put House Targaryen on the Iron Throne? Dragons? Or Dreams?" he asked.
"Aegon was no Dreamer. He was a Conqueror. With a greatsword of Valyrian steel and the most fearsome dragon that ever lived."
"Aegon wrote his own history. The truth was something else."
Daemon laughs, chiding, at the portentousness of the claim before recovering. "And what was that?" he inquired.
Viserys took a long pause. He looks at Daemon, considering whether to tell him some secret truth. But he says nothing in the end.
"The Targaryen history is written in fire and blood, Viserys. Though some of us might wish to forget that, we cannot deny our nature."
Viserys sighs, let down by where this is going. He looks up at the statue of their grandfather, King Jaehaerys the Conciliator, which looms over them. "King Jaehaerys moved us beyond that. With five decades of peace and progress, and then the vote at the Great Council," he said lamentedly. "And now I am meant, somehow, to do even better."
"'Better?'" Daemon asked incredulously. "I have nothing but respect for grandfather and all he accomplished, but Harrenhal was a farce." He indicates the Iron Throne, which is slashed in both light and shadow. "Councils don't make kings. Kings make kings."
"The Great Council worked out well for you, my prince."
"Not as well as it did for you, Your Grace."
Viserys laughs. "I sometimes find myself wishing I could go back to that day and pass it all to Rhaenys. To be just another Targaryen prince… To be able to hunt, and read, and enjoy life's simpler pleasures," he contemplated.
"Give it up, then," Daemon twists at the insult. "We're both in our best years, but they are being wasted at court."
"You think I should abdicate the throne?"
"Leave those burdens to your council. You were the last Targaryen to ride the Black Dread. Claim Vhagar, like father did. We could fly to conquest, together."
"And who would we conquer?"
"Anyone we wish. We can do as Aegon did. Write our own history – in fire and blood."
When Viserys looks into his younger brother's soul, he sees unbridled ambition. The king sighs, his voice softening. He glances up at the statue of Jaehaerys, his grandfather and great predecessor. "The dragons are gods made flesh. If we treat them as tools for our gain, they will deliver our end."
"You are wrong, brother," Daemon said bluntly. "It's said that Valyrians created the dragons. If dragons are gods… what does that make you and I?"
Viserys stared at Daemon with a sense of looming dread. "I can't abandon my wife or our young children," he shook his head."Aeonar and Rhaenyra need Aemma and me in their lives. What kind of Targaryen – no, what kind of man – would I be to abandon them for the pursuit of recreating a civilization that had its chance?" he asked. "Aegon's dream, the Song of Ice and Fire. A Targaryen, seated upon the Iron Throne, must unite the realm against the coming darkness." Before he left, he took one last glance at his brother. "I wonder… what my son will have to say when I ask him the same question I wanted to ask you."
ooOoo
Daemon continued staring into Aeonar's pale lilac eyes. Beneath the surface, the Rogue Prince could see a small blood-red ringlet forming around the Young Dragon's limbal rings in each eye. He was ambitious but there was something else in his nephew, something darker and more menacing that slowly manifested over the years. Daemon quickly realizes that his brother never considered him as his heir, as he never told him about Aegon's dream. Shaken by the realization that Viserys never truly trusted him, Daemon releases his grip.
"Now do you understand? Why father chose me instead of you?" Aeonar released his grip, smoothly sliding his hidden blade back into its concealed position beneath his sleeve. "You were given a test that day, and unfortunately, you failed it. On the same day when I gave my answer about the Conqueror's dream, the Song of Ice and Fire, he chose me as his heir." He glanced at his family. "It is a test I gave to my sister, Rhaenyra, and my son, Jaehaerys. They both passed, but not you. Nnnhhh!" Aeonar hissed in pain as another nerve twitched in the back of his head. "Now… go and ensure the loyalty of our officers like a good soldier. Ensure that they stay loyal. We wouldn't want any spies or turncloaks within our ranks, would we? Ugh…"
Alicent watched with concern as Aeonar held his head, groaning in pain. She faithfully stayed by his side but sensed something amiss beyond physical discomfort.
« I can't explain it, but I've been getting these… urges. Impulses. It's like an itch in the back of my mind. Have you ever heard of the Targaryen madness? […] Of course not. It is a trait found only in members of my family. Maegor the Cruel is a prime example of such insanity. To keep our Valyrian bloodlines pure and retain control over our dragons, we've been inbreeding whenever possible. It might sound like a queer custom to you or any other Westerosi, but they have been our customs since Old Valyria. I'm told such symptoms vary - insanity being the most common. Some Targaryens might get it early on, for others it takes time. But only on rare occasions do we ever avoid being cursed. My great-grandfather was one of them. »
Alicent remembered Aeonar sharing his fears and concerns about twenty years ago during their romantic relationship. She signaled to her son Viserys to check the archives for information on Lykirī Mēre, but he was quickly stopped.
"Come with me, young princes. I'll show you the true meaning of loyalty," Daemon spoke to Jaehaerys, Aegon, Viserys, Daeron, Jacaerys, and Lucerys before turning to Ser Harrold. "Have the rest of the remaining Kingsguard assemble outside. You're all needed."
Jaehaerys and Jacaerys exchanged perplexed glances, struggling to comprehend the events that had transpired. They were taken aback and confused, compounding their sense of unease. Prince Daemon Targaryen summoned them outside, adding to the tense atmosphere.
King's Landing ― Near the Blackwater Rush…
On the slopes near the beach, Daemon stood with both hands firmly grasping the hilt of Dark Sister, his Valyrian steel longsword. Down below him, he could see the five remaining knights of the Kingsguard who had remained loyal to Aeonar: Harrold Westerling, Steffon Darklyn, Lorent Marbrand, Erryk Cargyll, and Willis Fell. They were all steadfast and resolute, all dressed in signature all-white cloaks and fine silver armor. In the distance, Daemon's nephews, Princes Jaehaerys, Aegon the Younger, Viserys, and Daeron, as well as his stepsons, Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, stood watchfully.
"What's going on?" Daeron whispered impatiently.
"I don't know," Lucerys shook his head.
"What do you think, Jay?" Aegon inquired.
"I must admit, I'm not sure myself," said Jaehaerys, shaking his head. Daemon, what are you trying to accomplish here?
"Okay, so nobody knows what's going on," Jacaerys remarked with an eye roll.
"You swore an oath as knights of the Kingsguard," Daemon addressed the knights.
"As do all who wear the white cloak, my prince," Lorent reiterated.
"To whom?"
Harrold was displeased with his honor being questioned in such a manner. "I was inducted into the Kingsguard under King Jaehaerys I, and then to his successor, your brother King Viserys after him, and now to his son, Aeonar, who took his place," he reiterated.
"I swore first to King Jaehaerys, my prince," Steffon answered. "And then to His Grace, King Viserys, when he succeeded him."
"I put on the white cloak under His Grace King Viserys," Lorent said. "And now to King Aeonar after him."
"Arryk and I both swore our sacred vows to King Viserys, my prince," Erryk swore. "But I forever pledge myself to his son and rightful heir, Aeonar Targaryen."
"I, too, swore my vows and donned the white cloak for King Viserys," Willis said. "And now I serve his son, Aeonar."
Daemon nodded, apparently pleased. "Do you acknowledge the true line of succession?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes, my prince."
"Yes."
"Yes, my prince."
"Do you recall… who King Viserys named as his heir twenty-seven years ago before his death?"
"Of course. I was there," Harrold proclaimed. "It was his son, Aeonar Targaryen, my prince."
Daemon remained silent for a moment. "Hmm. I'm grateful for your long service to the crown," he said. "Due to the crown's betrayal, we face a difficult situation. Two sworn brothers have already betrayed us, leaving us unsure of whom to trust. So, I'm presenting you with a choice."
"*Reeeeee!*" Caraxes carefully descended the steep cliffs, sliding against rugged rocks until reaching the sandy beach below. "*Raaaaaaaaaaa!*" he let out a loud and piercing screech.
The five Kingsguard knights stepped back as the hostile Blood Wyrm growled. Jaehaerys wanted to intervene, but his brothers held him back for safety.
"Swear anew your oath to Aeonar as your king," Daemon reiterated, "to Prince Jaehaerys as the heir to the Iron Throne. Or… if you support the bastard pretender, speak it now… and you will have a clean and honorable death. But if you choose treachery, if you swear fealty now only to turn your cloaks later as your sworn brothers did… know that you will die… screaming."
Jaehaerys was visibly appalled at the treatment his great-uncle/father-in-law had meted out to the Kingsguard knights who had put their lives on the line for him and his father. It was not just during the Caltrops' coup attempt, but Jaehaerys had known each of these knights since his childhood and was intimately aware of their virtue and honor. Harrold, Steffon, Lorent, Erryk, and Willis – these were not men who would have ever betrayed his father, unlike Criston and Arryk. While Jaehaerys understood that the Blacks needed to root out spies and would-be traitors, the idea of threatening them with a dragon was deemed too far, too extreme. It was clear to him that the situation required a more measured approach, one that respected the sacrifice and loyalty of those who had served his father and his family with honor.
Daemon observed that his grandnephew/son-in-law was looking at him disapprovingly. I don't expect you to see things from my perspective, Jaehaerys, nor am I seeking your approval. But let me tell you, when it comes to war, winning is everything. I know this from experience, boy, as did your father before you. Sometimes, diplomacy just doesn't end wars or stop them from happening. You'll soon realize that, one way or another.
Chapter End
Author's Note: A little aftermath of what happens after the parley at Harrenhal, and once again, Aeonar and Daemon are at each other's throats over which approach is more suitable than the other. However, we also get a flashback from Daemon's perspective on why he was never chosen to be his brother's heir and his nephew was. Moreso, we are starting to see some warning signs in Aeonar's eyes and a flashback quote from Alicent. While the Blacks prepare for war, Daemon gives his lecture and warning to the Kingsguard who might consider turning their cloaks. Jaehaerys, however, does not approve. The next chapter will be the inevitable. What are your thoughts? Let me know.
C.E.W: Aeonar Targaryen and Daemon are clashing again, Daemon wanting to get the war started, and Aeonar trying to keep the peace. Although that is soon to change after Storm's End. Nice pointing of how King Viserys tested Daemon before Aeonar laying bare his decision for an heir.
The Caltrops having two more dragons is a problem especially Seasmoke due to being no stranger to battle. The Caltrops have less than half of the treasury before they fled King's Landing, which means they can afford sellswords. The Golden Company didn't exist at the time and won't until like eighty years. The Caltrops probably will hire the Second Sons, or buy the Unsullied, who knows. They might use it to provide the Triarchy Remnant with the means to rebuild. The Caltrops might enlist the Triarchy to ferry Sellswords across the Narrow Sea.
The Caltrops leadership being in Harrenhal is odd move. The capital is large and capable of defending from the ground. It can host a very large host, which is possible when the Lannister army invades the Riverlands. However when the North and the Vale side with the Blacks, Harrenhal could become surrounded from all sides.
Also the Lykiri Mere took a major blow during the coup, before they were numbered over 800, they lost 158 which means they are over 642 left, and will continue to sever more losses before the war is over.
Aeonar Targaryen is having head problems, struggling with his sanity, and that's not good, not during a time where war is on the horizon. Aeonar has lost some good people over the years, his mother, Harwin and Lyonel Strong, Joffrey Lonmouth, Laeonr Velaryon, and recently his father. Now more people he has known and care about will die in the coming war. The civil war that is coming will test him to his very limits and beyond. The question lies whatever he will break or not.
Questions:
Will Jaehaerys and Baela talk about their worries over the clashing of their fathers?
―At some point, yes
Is Harrenhal, the Caltrops' main base of operations or will they be relocating soon?
―Relocating on a rotation basios
With the Caltrops and their dragons and their riders in Harrenhal, in one place, House Tully must be really worried?
―Yes
Have the Lannisters made any moves against the Reynes and the Tarbecks?
―Not yet
GreatAce50: oh god.. his mind is getting worse i hope Aeonar wont turn to be like Maegor the Cruel and Aerys II the Mad king madness that would be kinda sad.
Guest #1: Will Aeanor spread the word that Aegon is now confirmed a bastard across the realm? In doing so making some of the caltrops question their loyalty. Though there is still Aemond.
―Otto will spread the word of Aegon the Elder's bastard status
randomdude24: Well Daemon being Daemon has his own views and opinions on how Aeonar is handling things, he may not like it but at least respects Aeonar.
So I have a question, of the original kingdguard. 5 have sided with Aeonar, Harrold Westerling, Steffon Darklyn, Lorent Marband. Erryk Cargyll, and Willis Fell.
Whereas 2 sided with Aegon, Cristion Cole and Arryk Cargyll.
What has become of Rickard Throne, the last member of the kingsguard under Viserys?
―He's dead
garrysprawson123: I have this question, will Aeonar get consumed by the Targaryen Madness if one of his children dies during the war!? I hope Lucerys along with Viserys and Daeron survive their encounter from Aemond in storms end
―Can't spoil anything