Harrenhal…
The Caltrops sentries stationed on the walls of Harrenhal were a constant presence, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. The night was pitch black, the moon hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. But the sentries were not left entirely blind. The flickering light of torches, strategically placed along the battlements, provided just enough illumination to carry out their duties. The flames danced and cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, creating an atmosphere of both trepidation and determination. Ever since the news had reached Harrenhal of the capture of the Caltrops' central leadership and the surrender of the Westerlands, the remaining troops had been on high alert. The possibility of the Blacks shifting their focus toward Harrenhal loomed over them like a dark cloud.
However, amidst the tension and uncertainty, there was a source of reassurance for the men patrolling the battlements. Vhagar, the Queen of All Dragons, had taken up residence near Harrenhal. The presence of this ancient dragon instilled a sense of confidence among the troops. They knew that with Vhagar nearby, she added an extra layer of protection, even as she slept. But the men patrolling the battlements remained cautious, their eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. They knew that even with Vhagar's presence, they could not afford to let their guard down. The war taught them the importance of vigilance and never underestimating their enemies. As the night wore on, the sentries continued their diligent monitoring of the walls, their footsteps echoing in the silence of the night, and their eyes scanned the darkness for any signs of movement. Their torches cast flickering shadows, creating an eerie dance of light and darkness. But amidst the uncertainty and the dimly lit surroundings, the soldiers remained steadfast.
Out of nowhere, a hushed sound, followed by a quick hush, shattered the stillness of the air. The first guard, now lying lifeless on the ground, had no chance to react as his assailant moved with deadly precision. The silence that followed was deafening; the only sound was the soft rustle of fabric as the killer melted back into the darkness. Just as the second guard was about to look back, he felt a hand covering his mouth, then a cold blade piercing his heart before being swiftly removed and pressing against his throat, the last thing he felt before everything went black as he took his last breath. The night was once again. The guards had been taken out with ruthless efficiency, their deaths a grim reminder of the dangers that lurked in the darkness.
As more Lykirī Mēre stealthily ascended the walls and reached the battlements, Jaehaerys discreetly gestured with a circular hand motion, signaling his comrades to disperse and swiftly eliminate the guards without attracting attention. The Dance of the Dragons had significantly depleted the Lykirī Mēre's numbers with each passing battle, leaving only a handful remaining. Nevertheless, their training and the ideology instilled in them the notion of embracing fear rather than fleeing from it, to use it as a weapon rather than allowing it to control them. Consequently, those assigned to carry out the assassinations were well aware that their chances of survival were slim.
With a silent nod, Jaehaerys led his comrades deeper into the fortress. Each step was calculated, and each movement was deliberate. They moved like ghosts, their presence barely registering in the minds of those they passed. They blended seamlessly into their surroundings, becoming one with the shadows. "Ilzigon. (Scatter.)" he whispered in High Valyrian.
As Jaehaerys watched his comrades disappear into the shadows, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride mixed with sadness. They were the last of their kind, the final remnants of Old Valyria. The Dance of the Dragons had taken its toll on them, claiming the lives of their brothers and sisters in arms. But they were determined to carry on, to fulfill their duty to the Targaryens until the bitter end. Moving silently along the battlements, Jaehaerys felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him. The guards had to be eliminated swiftly and silently, without a trace. Any sign of their presence could alert the enemy and jeopardize the entire operation. It was a dangerous task that required nerves of steel and a willingness to sacrifice everything. As he approached his first target, Jaehaerys felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a swift and silent strike, he dispatched the guard, his blade finding its mark with deadly accuracy. He moved on to the next, and then the next, each kill executed with the same precision and efficiency. The guards fell one by one, their bodies silently crumpling to the ground.
Infiltrating through the east gate, Jaehaerys cautiously made his move, blending into the shadows. He stood motionless, his body still and his breath held as he observed the passing Caltrops patrols. His piercing violet eyes carefully tracked their movements, analyzing every step they took. After confirming that the path was clear, the Silver Dragon took refuge in the Tower of Ghosts, one of the most ruined of Harrenhal's five melted towers. The Tower of Ghosts was a haunting sight with crumbling walls and an eerie atmosphere. Jaehaerys knew this was the perfect place to hide and plan his next move. As he made his way up the winding staircase, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if the spirits of Harrenhal were still lingering in the shadows. Jaehaerys knew that he had to tread carefully, as the slightest noise could alert the guards to his presence. As he made his way up the winding staircase, his heartbeat echoed in his ears. Glancing up at the Widow's Tower and Kingspyre Tower, connected by a stone bridge, Jaehaerys marveled at the towering height of the Kingspyre Tower, feeling as though it could touch the heavens themselves.
That's it. He's got to be up there. Jaehaerys speculated that Aemond might have claimed the Lord of Harrenhal's bedchamber as his own, as it was customary for the tallest tower to serve as the main symbol of authority. Scaling the tower is out of the question. It's too exposed and doesn't have enough gaps to get a good grip. Plus, the stones are too smooth. A trip or a slip from that height means certain death. I'll have to find another way up there. Let's see… Jaehaerys scrutinized the map for an alternate route, then peered out the window for visual confirmation. He spotted a stone bridge that once connected to the Widow's Tower, noting that half had been gone since Aegon the Conqueror and his dragon Balerion burned Harrenhal. Despite the challenging distance, he was sure he could make the leap. However, the smooth and slippery ledges gave him pause. It's risky, but what other options are there? Shaking his head, Jaehaerys understood his choices were strictly limited. Seven hells, I can't believe I'm even considering this… Conceding to the reality of the situation, Jaehaerys stealthily made his way to the only accessible upper levels of the Tower of Ghosts to reach the ruined stone bridge connecting the Tower of Ghosts to the Widow's Tower.
Lowering himself into a crouched position, Jaehaerys felt his muscles coil like a spring, ready to propel him forward in a running jump. As he glanced down, he couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline at the sheer height he was perched at. The drop below seemed endless, a reminder of the danger that awaited him. The remaining Lykirī Mēre who accompanied him were still busy trying to dispatch the guards silently. The situation was fraught with danger. The Caltrops' original host of 4,000 troops had now doubled to 8,000. With a quiet exhale, Jaehaerys inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the cool night air.
This is it. No turning back.
Firmly digging his heels onto the rugged stone walkway, the Silver Dragon propelled himself forward, sprinting with all his might, preparing for the daring leap that awaited him. The gap was daunting, almost appearing impossible to cross. Miraculously, he managed to land on the other side to reach the Widow's Tower. He struggled to maintain his equilibrium, ensuring he didn't fall off. Once Jaehaerys regained his footing, a sense of stealth enveloped him as he silently infiltrated the tower. Each step was calculated, and each movement was deliberate as he made his way to continue his mission.
I'm coming for you, Aemond.
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Ser Edmund Warrick and Ser Gyles Belgrave stood watch at the entrance to the upper chamber of Aemond's bedroom. They found themselves growing increasingly suspicious about the perceived unnatural relationship between Aemond and Alys Rivers. They had heard the rumors and whispers, but witnessing the strange sounds and movements coming from the upper chamber only fueled their intrigue. The whispers of dark magic and forbidden rituals only fueled their suspicions further. Despite their misgivings, they knew better than to question Aemond's judgment. They knew better than to pry or question the nature of Aemond and Alys' relationship. As they continued their watch, the two knights couldn't shake the feeling that something dark and dangerous lurked beneath the surface of Alys Rivers. And as they stood guard outside Aemond's chamber, they couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay hidden behind the closed doors of the upper chamber. But for now, all they could do was stand watch and wait, ready to defend their prince against any threat, real or imagined.
"Something bothers me about that witch," Edmund complained.
"I agree," Gyles replied, "but Aemond gave us specific instructions not to bother him."
"Do you think she used certain magic to seduce him?"
"I don't know. We've all heard the rumors surrounding that woman. Aemond says she can see visions in storm clouds, pools of water, and flames. She says in a rather cryptic tone, 'A reunion of blood, two shall fight, one will leave.' Whatever that means.
"She's a bastard and a witch, I tell you!"
"Calm down, Ser Edmund. We―"
Amid the chaotic scene, a servant suddenly appeared and hurried towards two Caltrops Kingsguard. Her face was contorted with fear and urgency as if she had urgent news to deliver. She moved quickly, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence that had descended upon the area. The Kingsguard turned to her, their expressions grave as they braced themselves for what would come. "Sers!" she panted.
"What is the meaning of this?" Gyles said.
"There… There's a… in the… the…"
"Spit it out, lass! What are you trying to tell us?"
"It-It'd be easy to show you! Please!"
Gyles and Edmund, knowing that the servant would persist until they followed her, chose to go with her to a nearby room in the Kingspyre Tower. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows, making the figures on the tapestries seem to come alive. Despite the dim lighting provided by the candles in the room, they were greeted by a chilling sight. The servant, whose face remained hidden beneath a hood and seemingly unaffected by the eerie atmosphere, continued to lead them further into the room. The air grew heavier with each step as if the weight of the past was pressing down upon them. The smell of death intensified, overpowering their senses. The stench of decay mingled with the metallic tang of blood, creating a nauseating cocktail. Gyles and Edmund exchanged a silent glance, their hands instinctively reaching for the hilts of their swords. They had faced countless dangers, but something about this room sent shivers down their spines. As they moved further into the room, their eyes caught sight of a pile of twenty Caltrops guardsmen, their lifeless bodies strewn haphazardly on the floor. The fresh blood staining their armor and pooling beneath them spoke of a sudden assault followed by a fierce struggle; their eyes were wide open, backs hunched slightly, and the look on their faces… they died in fear. The room seemed to whisper secrets, its walls echoing with the cries of the fallen.
"What in the hells…?" Gyles's face scrunched.
"Look, sers," the servant pointed.
Edmund knelt. "Who…?" he examined the bodies.
"What is it, Ser Edmund?"
"Their throats… They've been slit."
Gyles contemplated the situation, his chin resting on his fist as he considered the dilemma. He voiced his concerns, "Even with all the guards on high alert patrolling the perimeter and Vhagar nearby, how could anyone possibly infiltrate Harrenhal undetected?" he thought. "Get Aemond down here, Ser Edmund. He'll need to see this."
Edmund wasted no time and promptly rose to his feet. Making his way past Gyles and the servant, the Caltrops Kingsguard knight swiftly left the room and quickly turned toward the bedroom to inform Aemond Targaryen. However, a slender but sturdy noose, tightly wound and expertly crafted, ensnared Ser Edmund's throat, swiftly hoisting him up into the darkness. The clatter of his sword hitting the floor reverberated through the air, prompting Ser Gyles to rush outside hastily. To his astonishment, there was no trace of Edmund to be found.
"Ser Edmund?" Gyles called out, but no response came. "Ser Edmund! Where are you?" Again, no answer. Drawing his sword from his sheath, the senior Caltrops Kingsguard knight was on high alert. The tension in the air was palpable as he scanned the hallway for clues or hints about where Ser Edmund might have been taken. The night air was thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. But the darkness seemed to swallow everything, leaving no trace of Edmund; his discarded sword lying on the floor was the only evidence of his sudden disappearance. "Who's there? Show yourself!" Gyles called out again.
A sudden, loud clanking thud behind him startled Ser Gyles, causing him to swiftly pivot on his heels only to be confronted by a grim sight. Ser Edmund lay lifeless on the ground, his throat brutally slashed. The expression on his face was a haunting blend of astonishment and terror, indicating that he had been taken entirely by surprise, unable to defend himself or call for help before he died.
"Seven hells…" Ser Gyles, utterly oblivious to the imminent threat, remained unaware that the servant had quietly departed from the room and made her way down the corridor. Her demeanor had drastically changed, now devoid of any trace of fear or anxiety, the servant's countenance turned chilly and devoid of emotion, her gaze distant and vacant. "You…!"
"Konir ajorrāelza gēlȳnī ademmis… (There's a debt that needs to be repaid…)" the servant said in High Valyrian.
As the realization dawned upon Gyles that the servant was actually an undercover infiltrator, speaking in High Valyrian, he slowly comprehended that she was nothing more than a deadly Lykirī Mēre assassin. Before he could even reach for his sword, the Caltrops Kingsguard knight detected the sound of leather footsteps approaching him from behind, their presence as silent as a crypt. As he turned around, Ser Gyles found himself face-to-face with Jaehaerys, who had managed to sneak up on him undetected. With no time to react, the Silver Dragon swiftly slashed his throat with a single motion of his hand, the cold steel of the concealed dagger beneath his sleeves reflecting in the moonlight. Gyles collapsed to the ground, his neck gushing blood and making gurgling sounds. In his final moments, his fading vision captured Jaehaerys peering down at him as darkness enveloped him completely.
Another life lost. What a waste… Jaehaerys stood there, silent.
"Sȳrī. (Well done.)" the servant broke the silence. "Āeksio sagon kreni. (The master will be pleased.)"
"Mmm. Nādīnās mēni. Henujagon dōron pālegon daor. (Remove the bodies. Leave no stone unturned.)"
"Mmm. Dārilaros Jāhayress emméno alzilal. (Stick to the shadows, Prince Jaehaerys.)"
"Emméno alzilal. (Stick to the shadows.)"
Jaehaerys observed as the Lykirī Mēre agent carefully disposed of the bodies, pulling them out one by one. The Silver Dragon understood that it was only a question of time before he was discovered, but he had a feeling that Alys Rivers might have already tipped off Aemond about his presence. If that were indeed true, a clash between them would be unavoidable. Despite this looming threat, he couldn't help but reflect on Alys's cryptic words during their first encounter. "You have become skilled at blending in with your surroundings and mastering their craft. You are proficient at playing the game of thrones, my dear, but the more you endeavor to do good, the more you carry yourself with integrity, the greater the toll it takes on you…" Taking a deep breath, Jaehaerys readied himself for what was bound to come. "As Prince of Dragonstone, my responsibility is to safeguard the Seven Kingdoms and ensure the protection of its people." I'm done with all this death and destruction, Aemond. Jaehaerys positioned himself in a cross-legged sitting posture, certain that Aemond would eventually come to him.
« Just as Daenys prophesized Valyria's destruction, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. A terrible winter from the frozen wastelands of the distant north – and the darkness that came with it, threatening to destroy the world of the living. And when that Great Winter comes, Jay, all of Westeros must stand united against it. It might happen tomorrow, or next year, even well past our lifetime… but it's coming. And if the world is to survive, a Targaryen must lead the country from the Iron Throne, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. »
« You, my grandson, are the future of House Targaryen. When your time comes, the realm will be in your hands. Just be certain the path you walk is the right one. »
« Remember, lad. A knight is sworn to valor; his heart knows only virtue; his blade defends the innocent; his might upholds the weak; his word speaks only truth; and his wrath undoes the wicked. To be a true knight, the strong must protect the weak and act with honor, never with lies or speak with falsehoods. »
« In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women. Arise, my sons. A knight of the Seven Kingdoms. »
« Hey, tough guy, put your tongue back in your mouth before you trip on it. »
« To my cousin and greatest friend, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen… Know that I am committed to supporting you now and always, until the end of our days. May the bond between our houses endure for centuries to come, just as it did during the days of Old Valyria. I hope your future reign is marked by prosperity and longevity. And may your name be forever engrained in the history books… as 'King Jaehaerys the Wise, the Second of His Name.' »
« I love you, my darling boy. You know that, don't you? »
« The Valyrian Freehold had its time… but their arrogance and misuse of power led to their downfall. They were masters of the world… but could not rule their excesses. They dabbled with powers that they did not fully comprehend… and it destroyed them. As much as we cherish our heritage, we shouldn't try to emulate our forebears… or risk repeating their mistakes. House Targaryen took a long time to recover after the Doom, and we've come a long way since then. It's best not to push our luck… and stick with what's working. »
With a serene expression, he gently shut his eyes, bowed his head, and delved into a deep state of meditation. He focused on his breathing, letting go of any distractions or thoughts that tried to enter his mind. Jaehaerys felt the tension in his muscles slowly melt away as he sank deeper into a state of calm and clarity. With each breath, he felt a sense of inner strength and resolve building within him, ready to face whatever trials awaited him. And so, Jaehaerys sat silently, his mind clear and focused, his body relaxed and poised.
"A knight is sworn to valor. His heart knows only virtue; his blade defends the innocent; his might upholds the weak; his word speaks only truth; and his wrath undoes the wicked."
He was prepared for whatever was to come.
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Aemond had received a prior warning about possible intruders following a prophecy from his lover, Alys Rivers, predicting a confrontation with a challenger of his own blood. 'A reunion of blood, two shall fight, one will leave.' After dressing himself, he took hold of his longsword and left his bedchamber, prepared to confront the danger. While descending the stairs, Aemond carefully scanned his surroundings. Everything was eerily quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The only evidence of recent activity was the faint trail of fresh blood guiding him forward.
Yet, Aemond was already sure he knew who this challenger could be.
As he reached the end of the blood trail, Aemond found himself standing before a closed door. He pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The room was shrouded in shadows, the only light source emanating from a single flickering candle on a nearby table before he finally caught sight of his opponent – a figure cloaked in shadows, their face obscured by a hood. "Hm. Out of everyone who could manage to sneak past my army without being detected, it had to be you. I should have known our paths would cross again after Rook's Rest… nephew."
Opening his eyes, Jaehaerys met Aemond's gaze with a calm and steady expression. He could see the anger and resentment in Aemond's eye, but he remained unfazed. "We both knew it would come to this since the attempted coup, Aemond," he said before standing up. "The war is over. The Caltrops are finished, and so are you."
"Confident, are we? Hm. How many times have we fought?"
"I've lost count."
"I agree. Every time we fought in the courtyard, neither of us gained an advantage over the other. It was always a draw," Aemond and Jaehaerys engaged in a circular motion, each mirroring the other's actions without showing any signs of retreat or assessing each other's strengths and weaknesses. As they continued to circle, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze, each trying to anticipate the other's next move. "When we last fought at Rook's Rest, you were lucky. But you have no reinforcements to back you up, Jaehaerys. It's just you and me now. Even now, you must realize you're impossibly outnumbered."
"I don't think so, Aemond. It's the bigger picture you've yet to understand. Your mother may have instigated the coup, but you started this fire when your dragon killed Daeron."
"I said it was an accident!"
"Doesn't matter. You should know that the notion of Targaryens controlling the dragons, that we are masters of the skies… is but an illusion. They're a power man should never have trifled with. Look at us now. What do you see?"
Aemond didn't answer.
"Those who cannot remember the past, Aemond, are often destined to repeat them. It's a cycle that will see no end," Jaehaerys stated firmly. "I'm putting a stop to this here and now. Starting with you."
Aemond observed his nephew closely. There had been a noticeable change in him since their last encounter or even since their childhood days. Jaehaerys had always been the diplomatic peacemaker, the one who sought to find common ground and avoid unnecessary conflict. But now, as he stood before Aemond, his once gentle demeanor had been replaced by a steely resolve. The look in his eyes conveyed a grim message—only one of them would survive the impending confrontation at Harrenhal. It was clear that Jaehaerys had made up his mind about something, and he was prepared to see it through no matter the cost. "You think you have what it takes to kill me?" he scoffed, unsheathing his sword. "I'd like to see you try. Perhaps I'll send your head back to your mother as a consolation gift."
Jaehaerys did the same, unsheathing his blade. "I've given you every chance to stop this madness, Aemond. But after what you've done, what you did to Daeron… you've left me no choice. You're irredeemable."
"Then let this be our final duel. The ultimate tie-breaker."
"Toliot ao. (After you.)"
"Sȳrīs. (Good.)"
This would be a battle unlike any other. The stakes were higher, the tension palpable. And as Aemond locked eyes with Jaehaerys, he knew that only one of them would emerge victorious, a silent message and grim reminder that in the game of thrones, there could only be one winner.
With that…
…both Aemond and Jaehaerys lunged at each other.
This battle would be their last.
Chapter End
Author's Note: This concludes the first part of the final confrontation between Jaehaerys Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen. What do you think are their respective strengths and weaknesses? Who do you think is going to win after ending their sparring matches in a draw repeatedly? Let me know what your predictions are.
C.E.W: So the big fight between Jaehaerys Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen is about to begin. Jaehaerys and Aemond have proven themselves evenly matched opponents in the past. Its a fifty-fifty chance as far as I can tell. Jaehaerys knew the risks when he decided to infiltrate Harrenhal to kill Aemond, and its a big one.
If Aemond dies... Vhagar is riderless, the Caltrops will be demoralized to say the least especially the ones in Harrenhal. There might be mutiny and they'll turn on Ser Criston Cole. The Blacks can focus their attention on Hugh Hammer and Ulf White, before dealing with Borros Baratheon. The war will be over, and Jaehaerys will probably have to deal with Aeonar if his madness does not end before the war does.
If Jaehaerys dies... the Blacks will be devastated along with the rest of the realm especially those in King's Landing. The people will riot and turn against Aeonar, given their bright future died with Jaehaerys or so they'll believe. Even if its public knowledge that Baela is pregnant, who knows what gender it will be, and if the child will turn well like Jaehaerys or not so much. The Blacks will turn on Aeonar holding him responsible, especially Alicent if Aeonar coldly dismisses it. Baela will be heartbroken, and their child will grow without a father.
The cryptic thing is, 'One will leave' which doesn't mean death, so there is always the chance one might escape with killing the other. Aeonar and Daemon could appear, giving Jaehaerys a window to escape.
Questions:
The Reach is fertile land in the realm, how much of their food has been destroyed?
―Less than 1/10th
Does the Reach have any food to spare for King's Landing?
―Yes
Aemma still adding the Westerlands against the Ironborn?
―Yes
Have Hugh Hammer and Ulf White taken Tumbleton?
―No spoilers
Where's Corlys Velaryon?
―Rebuilding House Velaryon's fleet
uNknoWn- Unit: OMG, the tension mann! Though I doubt one will die by this confrontation alone, there's gotta be a dragon battle afterwards with Vhagar against Vaelor. I also probably think it's where Aeonar might as well get out of his madness and come back again as normal. Though a sequence like this will probably be in a sort of near-death scenario. But as usual, it's up to you, though I really want it to end with a good note.
Questions:
1. Will a Vaelor and Vhagar 1v1 battle eventually happen?
―No spoilers :)
2. Will Daemon and Caraxes join the fight?
―No spoilers
3. Can Hugh Hammer and Ulf White still be considered as threats by now because we've not heard anything of them so far?
―Yes
4. Also, oh and this is a question has nothing related to this chapter or the story in full, but have you ever considered of making a Godzilla Fanfiction, since this is among your favourite movies, so is mine, have you considered making one?
―Not really
randomdude24: The Battle between Jay and Aemond has come, both skilled in their craft, both with a determination to win. However, only one will win if the cryptic message is correct. I really wonder if Jay has it in him to kill Aemond. He has no love for him, especially after Dareon death, but regardless, it's still kinslaying, not sure Jay has what it takes.
If Jay dies the blacks will be devastated, Baela will be heartbroken, and Aeonar will get worse. If Aemond dies, the Caltrops cause continues to fail. If they both kill one another, then its a draw. On the possibility both aren't killed and instead flee Harrenhal, then it's still a draw. I don't know what to expect.
Nerokyi: Whoever dies, this will either nake you author the hero or the villain.
mpowers045: Love the Dragonheart reference