Sorry for the long wait, everyone! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

Author's Note: Blood, gore, profanity, and disturbing imagery ahead.

The Hightower

Shocked by what he had just heard from the hysterical Princess Jaehaera, the guard commanded one of his cohorts to stay with the princess while he went to investigate Alicent's room. Rushing towards the open door, the guard came across an eerie sight. The dowager queen was laying underneath her blankets. Her hands were resting on her chest, one of her pillows was lying on the floor beside her bed, and there was a pile of broken vase shards lying on top of the nightstand beside the bed. An expression of sheer terror was casted on Alicent's face: her eyes were wide open and staring vacantly at the ceiling of her canopy bed and her mouth was agape.

Alicent was lying perfectly still, and her chest was not moving up and down from breathing. Taken aback by the sight of the former queen's dead body, the rattled guard turned his attention towards the pillow that was on the floor. The side of the pillow that was resting on the floor was damp and wrinkled from being bitten, and there was a faint indent on it that had been created from a human nose being pressed hard against it. Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower had been smothered to death with one of her own pillows. Death by suffocation, what an awful way to die...

Unnerved by his discovery, the guard quickly rushed out of the room to spread the news of Alicent's death. Maester Ulrich was informed, and after verifying what the guard had told him, he rushed into the great hall to inform Lord Lyonel Hightower that his late father's cousin had been murdered. Lyonel gasped when his maester whispered the horrible news into his ear. Looking out over at his family and guests, who were, at the moment, happily oblivious to the tragedy that was currently unfolding. With a heavy heart, Lyonel got up out of his chair, called for everyone's attention, and disclosed the awful news to them.

Silence fell upon the great hall once more, a silence that was even greater and deeper than before when a then living Alicent had quarreled with Princess Visenya Targaryen. Princess Helaena's face fell, her mouth opened slightly, and her lower lip began to quiver.

"What? Murdered? My mother was... murdered?"

"What happened to my grandmother?" asked a rattled Prince Jaehaerys. "How do you know that my grandmother was murdered, Maester Ulrich?"

"She was smothered, your grace." replied the maester after sighing. "Your grandmother's killer used one of her pillows to-"

Maester Ulrich's explanation was then cut off by the distressed Helaena's sobbing. Jaehaerys wrapped an arm around his mother and did his best to comfort her. His two uncles, Princes Aemond and Daeron, stared off into space in disbelief. Both of their wives looked pale, with Bethany's eyes glistening and Daenaera looking shocked. Alys Rivers looked indifferent to the whole thing since there had been no love lost between her and Queen Alicent.

Alys's son, Lydus, meanwhile, looked crestfallen. Despite the disparity on how Dowager Queen Alicent had treated Lydus and his cousins, there was some affection between grandmother and grandson, and Lydus was saddened by her sudden death. His stepmother extended a comforting hand to his father, but Aemond rudely waved it away. Without a word, he rose out of his chair and marched out of the great hall.

"Aemond, wait." said Lyonel, who got up out of his chair to follow his second cousin. Maester Ulrich tailed after both men. Concerned over what had happened, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, who had been sitting frozen in his chair since Lyonel shared the grim news that his step-grandmother had been murdered, got up to follow the other three. Ser Percival Wylde and the two Queensguard knights, Sers Glendon Goode and Connor Darklyn, followed after the crown prince. The departure of the men increased the volume of the hum of concerned whispering that had started after the death announcement had been made.

Reaching his mother's room, Aemond was disturbed by the sight of her dead body lying on the bed. Being disturbed soon gave way to sorrow. Difficult as he was for his parents during his youth, Aemond still adored his mother, and now, she was gone forever. Blinking away tears from his left eye, Aemond silently walked over towards his mother's bedside, knelt down beside it, and took her hand into his. The prince kissed his mother's hand and held it to his face. Memories of being tenderly rubbed on the face by his mother when he was a young boy came back to Aemond, especially the night he lost his eye to Prince Lucerys Velaryon's dagger during the Red Spring in 120 AC.

Queen Alicent did not leave her middle son's side once as one of Corlys the Sea Snake's maesters tended to Aemond's injury and bandaged up the right side of his face. Sweetmilk and his mother rubbing his head helped lull the wounded Aemond to sleep that night at High Tide. And now, thirty years later, the late Alicent's touch brought much sorrow to her son. He was down in the great hall when his mother was being murdered. He was eating, drinking, and conversing while some vile bastard was smothering his mother to death with a pillow as she laid in her own bed.

He could have checked on his mother, but he respected her need for space at the time. Alicent was fuming after arguing with Visenya, and for both her and Aemond's sake, the latter kept well out of his mother's way. Visenya. If it weren't for her outburst in the great hall earlier, Alicent would still be alive. A vile thought then entered Aemond's mind, causing his one eye to open.

What if Visenya had murdered his mother? She was certainly angry enough. Pregnant or not, the princess was still capable of murder, and being five months along, her belly was not too big and heavy to prevent her from making the trek to and from her step-grandmother's room. Aemond squeezed his mother's hand before releasing it and standing up. Daeron, Jacaerys, and Lyonel were shocked by the look they saw on Aemond One-Eye's face just as they were when they saw Alicent's dead body.

"That little bitch..." he muttered before storming out of the bedchamber. Having a sinking feeling about where his half-uncle was headed off to next, Jacaerys was quick to follow Aemond with his three knights in tow while Daeron and Lyonel stayed behind.

"Where are you going, Uncle Aemond?" Jace called out to the prince, but only a wrathful silence answered him. Receiving no response from Aemond only served to increase the crown prince's dread, and both he and his knights quickened their pace as they followed Aemond through the halls and down the stairs towards his destination: Visenya's bedchamber. Jace's heartrate quickened, and he steeled himself to defend his half-sister as soon as Aemond entered her room. Aemond did not even knock when he reached the door, instead, he violently pushed it open, causing the door to slam against the wall.

The sound of the door banging off the wall greatly startled the three sole occupants in the room. A weeping Jaehaera was sitting on the edge of Visenya's bed being comforted by both her sister-in-law and little brother when Aemond barged in. All sound stopped after the door was opened, and all eyes were on the one-eyed prince. Aemond did not seem to notice his niece and nephew, for his eye was solely trained on Visenya. Breathing heavily from anger, his skin turning red, Aemond pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at Princess Visenya.

"You...," he growled, "you murdered my mother!

"What?!" was the collective response of everyone gathered. Outrage soon erupted as both the crown prince and Maelor came to Visenya's defense.

"On what grounds do you have to even think of accusing my sister of killing your mother, Aemond!" roared Jacaerys, earning him a furious look from his half-uncle as he looked over his shoulder.

"Visenya would never do such a thing, Uncle Aemond!" Maelor shouted. "She's pregnant for the Seven's sake!"

"Her belly is not that big." Aemond countered. "She could still have done it when we were all downstairs. The murderous little cow needs to be arrested!"

"I haven't left this bed since I was brought up here, uncle!" argued Visenya. "I did not kill Alicent! I am innocent!"

"That's what all murderers say." Aemond replied coldly. He began making his way towards Visenya, who held her belly with one hand and stared at her half-uncle with wide lavender eyes. Maelor moved in to defend his wife from their uncle. Jaehaera, who had been forgotten by everyone at that moment, was seemingly frozen where she was sitting and did nothing but watch as this tense scene unfolded before her with red, teary eyes.

"Stop him!" commanded Jace, and the two Queensguard knights intercepted Prince Aemond and restrained him. Aemond struggled against his captors.

"Let go of me!" he roared. "Arrest Visenya, not me!"

Jace and Percival then moved in and rounded Aemond as a crowd of curious onlookers who had ventured upstairs from the great hall to see what was going on filled the hall. Standing in front of Aemond, Jace unsheathed Blackfyre and pointed the tip of the blade at his half-uncle's throat. Aemond stopped struggling when he felt Blackfyre's tip tickle his throat. He glared at the gleaming blade before looking up to meet his half-nephew eye-to-eye.

"You dare raise your sword to me, Jace? I am your uncle!"

"And you are making baseless accusations against my sister, your niece, and are acting hostile towards her. Choose your next words carefully, uncle..."

"Come on, now..." the voice belonged to Prince Daeron the Daring. Someone must have informed him and Daeron had come down to diffuse the situation. Despite having just lost his mother to murder, the prince's tone remained steady and calm without a hint of quivering.

"Let us not spill blood here. The Stranger has already taken one soul away from us tonight, let him not take another one, please."

Jace, his eyes still on Aemond, sighed in resignation, and he pulled Blackfyre away from his half-uncle's throat. "Release him." he commanded, and Glendon and Connor let go of Aemond, who did not seek retaliation against either man. Half-uncle and half-nephew glared at each other briefly before Aemond glanced over at Visenya. The flames of rage still burned fiercely within Aemond, and it saw no signs of burning out.

"This isn't over." was all Aemond said before he turned around and left the room with his younger brother following him out. Sighing again, this time with relief, Jace sheathed Blackfyre and turned to check on Visenya. She had one hand over her heart now and was being attended to by her husband and sister-in-law again. Concerned for his pregnant half-sister's well-being, Jace demanded that a maester be summoned to examine Visenya.

As much as Jace wanted to remedy this situation with the Hightower's and his half-uncles as quickly as he could, he also wanted to stay to make sure that his younger half-sister and her unborn child were both fine. Meanwhile, Lord Hightower ordered for both the Pharos and city gates to be shut to prevent Queen Alicent's murderer from escaping, and he even went so far as to send word to Oldtown's docks informing them to not allow any ship to set sail the following morning until further notice. Stress, tension, and fear engulfed the Hightower, as did grief. Helaena and Jaehaerys, despite hearing the rumor that Visenya had been accused of murdering their mother and grandmother, nevertheless traveled to her bedchamber to be together and to mourn. Helaena's two younger brothers, mournful as they were, were taking part in a serious discussion with their second cousin and Maester Ulrich in Lyonel's study.

"She had to have done it!" Aemond snarled as he paced around the room. "She is the only person here who had the motive to want to kill mother!"

"I understand why you believe that, Aemond." Daeron said calmly as he spoke to his pacing brother. "But we have to be open-minded here. And let's be honest, mother had been talking very nastily about some of the guests up until...," Daeron hesitated slightly before continuing, "until her death tonight, as well as what she had said beforehand when drunk as well.

You overheard what she said tonight, Aemond. Mother insulted several lords and ladies and their families. Any one of them could have been angry enough to sneak up to her room and smother her."

"I know that, Daeron." Aemond said after stopping to look at his brother. "But our niece is the only one who reacted to what mother was saying. Everyone else was held their tongues and tried to ignore her. Visenya is just like her damn mother. Never forgets a slight and holds grudges..."

"Can definitely agree with that." commented Lyonel. Maester Ulrich, unseen by his liege, rolled his eyes in annoyance. He then decided to speak up.

"Prince Daeron is right. Queen Alicent, Seven rest her soul, had alienated and angered many people over the years because of what she had said while drunk. Princess Visenya's outburst earlier this evening was indeed visceral, but I sincerely doubt she was the one who claimed the queen's life. She is five months pregnant, which was how far along she was when she lost her twins. She was careful during her pregnancy with Princess Rhaenys, and she has been careful with her current one to prevent a similar tragedy from happening again.

Murder in the heat of passion would be unthinkable to the princess, my lords. Princess Visenya would not do anything that would jeopardize the well-being of her unborn child. We have to come up with more plausible culprits."

Lyonel, who had been deep in thought as his maester shared his opinion about the matter, faced his second cousins and spoke after Ulrich had finished.

"Forgive me, cousins, but what if it was Maelor who took Alicent's life?"

The eyes of Princes Aemond and Daeron became as wide as saucers when they heard Lyonel share his scandalous theory. The very idea that their nephew, their sister's youngest son, was a kinslayer seemed unthinkable to them. Aemond turned red and was the first to come to Maelor's defense.

"No, never! My nephew would never do something as despicable as kinslaying. How could you even think of such a thing!?"

Lyonel waved his hands as if he could somehow magically calm Aemond down. Daeron was equally outraged, but he was able to restrain his anger, and his tone was one of disbelief rather than fury like his older brother's was.

"Maelor loved his grandmother. He would have never hurt her."

"But were you watching him all throughout the night?" Lyonel countered. "We were all drinking and dining until Alicent's murder was discovered. Maelor could have snuck out of the great hall to his grandmother's room, smother her, and then come back without anyone noticing.

If anyone did notice him, they would have just assumed that he was going to check on his wife." he then had an idea. "What if during one of those visits, Visenya told him to kill Alicent in order to please her?" Aemond and Daeron looked at each other, and Lyonel glanced at Maester Ulrich before continuing. "Just like what Ulrich had said, Visenya would never want to cause harm to her unborn child.

But what if she put Maelor up to taking his own grandmother's life? She is like her mother after all as Aemond had said. Sneaky, entitled, and hateful. Gets other people to do her dirty work for her."

Aemond and Daeron's protectiveness for their nephew began to waver as they listened to their second cousin.

"He did not look angry after mother had been escorted back to her chambers..." murmured Daeron.

"He could have been." added Ulrich. "From what I have heard from Lord Lyonel, Alicent spoke quite crassly to Princess Visenya. Maelor could have hidden his anger. Perhaps he was angry enough to kill his own grandmother and become a kinslayer..."

Lyonel nodded in agreement with what his maester had said. Aemond and Daeron both looked even more dejected than before. As Maelor's uncles, they did not want to think the worst of him, but as of now, he was the most plausible suspect in this horrible crime. Aemond still had his suspicions that Visenya was his mother's real killer, while Daeron felt that their half-niece was at least indirectly responsible for Queen Alicent's death by being its instigator. Suspicions were strong and theories were being shared, but there was one crucial element to this situation that was missing – witnesses.

Guests and the Hightower household would have to be questioned to see if they had seen anything suspicious, and that could take a while. There was also the matter of incurring Queen Rhaenyra's wrath too after she heard that both her daughter and son-in-law were being accused of her stepmother's murder. As Lyonel and his cousins and maester discussed how to handle this situation legally, Jacaerys was also informing Maelor about what to expect. They spoke on one of the verandas that faced the Sunset Sea to discuss the matter. Visenya, meanwhile, had been given a clean bill of health by a maester, and was now sound asleep in her bedchamber thanks to a few grains of sweetsleep that had been mixed in a cup of sugared barley water that she drank.

It had been an emotional discussion. Maelor was afraid for his wife, was heartbroken over losing his grandmother, and was terrified about what was going to happen next. His eyes welled up with tears from time to time, and his voice broke frequently as a horrible mixture of anxiety, rage, and sorrow overwhelmed him. Jace did his best to soothe his half-brother-in-law, and he provided him with sound advice on how to proceed forward.

"The best course of action to take is to request a trial by combat." spoke Jace. "Visenya can make this request before or during a trial, but I think that a trial is unlikely, however. Her accusers will need witnesses, and since she was in her room all night, there shouldn't be any."

"Uncle Aemond won't care. Witness or no witness, he is adamant that Visenya murdered grandmother..." Maelor responded sullenly.

"I know that, Maelor." Jace replied. "He will most likely fight in a trial by combat. Being a member of the royal family, a knight of the Queensguard will serve as Visenya's champion. Uncle Aemond may be a fearsome fighter, but a knight of the Queensguard is even fiercer.

Sers Glendon and Connor may be Visenya's only available choices, but they are all we have. Glendon is a little older than Aemond, and his skill at swordplay is well-regarded. He should prove to be a good match for our uncle." Seeing how dark Maelor's expression was, Jace placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Keep calm and have faith, Maelor.

Whatever happens tomorrow will set the course for what will happen next. What you can do now is go check on your mother, siblings, and Rhaenys, and get some rest. You will not be helping my sister much if you are exhausted tomorrow."

Taking his half-cousin's words to heart, Maelor nodded, and went to do as had been suggested to him. Jace sighed heavily after Maelor left, and he looked up to the moon as if it would give him guidance before deciding to return to his bedchamber. He had a lot to do tomorrow. First, there was seeing what course of action the Hightower's and Aemond and Daeron wanted to pursue. After that, Jace was going to write to his mother informing her about what had happened and what was going on now.

But before either Jacaerys or Maelor could sleep, more drama unfolded. Lord Lyonel Hightower, in agreement with his second cousins, ordered for the arrest of Prince Maelor and Princess Visenya Targaryen under suspicion of murdering Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower. Aemond and Daeron helped facilitate this order by retrieving their nephew themselves. Poor Helaena and Jaehaera began crying again when they heard that Maelor was going to be arrested, and Jaehaerys vehemently protested his little brother's arrest to no avail. Daeron stayed behind to comfort his sister and her family while Aemond escorted a fearful Maelor back to his wife's bedchamber.

Out of respect for Visenya's pregnancy, both she and her husband were going to be imprisoned in their bedchamber. Guards were posted outside of the door, and it took a long time for Maelor to fall asleep that night. Jace did not hear of the arrest until he woke up the following morning, and he was shocked to say the least. Furious, Jace stormed into Lyonel's solar demanding an explanation. Adding more to his surprise, his other half-cousin, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, was there as well.

Lord Hightower sighed and steeled himself for another heated confrontation with the brother of one of the accused. The normally calm and composed Jace was livid.

"This is outrageous, Lord Lyonel! First, you accuse my sister of murder, and now you are accusing her husband, one of your kinsmen, of being a kinslayer, when you have hundreds of viable suspects within your very walls. Why are you not questioning them?"

"Maelor and Visenya's imprisonment is a precautionary measure." Lyonel explained. "Questioning was due to begin this morning, but Maelor told Aemond that he wishes to have a trial by combat to prove both his and his wife's innocence."

"A trial of seven now." Jaehaerys added, earning him a surprised glance from his half-cousin. "My uncles believe that Maelor and Visenya are responsible for grandmother's death. Even Maester Ulrich suspects Maelor of murder. I volunteer to fight for the innocence of my brother and Visenya."

"Well, in that case," Jace said, "I too pledge myself to fight for my sister and brother-in-law. I will secure the other champions. May I ask who will be fighting on the side of the accusers, Lord Lyonel?"

"Prince Aemond and I, of course." replied Lyonel. "Prince Daeron was going to participate, but after hearing that Prince Jaehaerys wishes to fight, he does not want to raise a sword against his own nephew. Other champions are being sought out. Who will be the other champions who will fight on your side, your grace?"

"Sers Glendon Goode and Connor Darklyn of the Queensguard." Jace answered. "Because Maelor and Visenya are members of royalty, their innocence is to be defended by a member of the Queensguard. That so far gives our side four fighters in all. I am confident that I can secure the last three champions soon."

And the crown prince would be true to his word. The other three champions were easily found hours before midday. The fifth champion was Jace's own sworn shield, Ser Percival Wylde. The sixth was Ser Edmund Naeryon, who had been suggested by a frantic Princess Helaena Targaryen to help fight for her son and daughter-in-law's innocence. The seventh came as a surprise to everyone, that champion being Prince Maelor Targaryen himself.

Lord Hightower was no slouch in finding five more warriors to fight by his side during the trial. Prince Lydus Targaryen was the first to volunteer to fight alongside his father and second cousin once removed. Hesitant at first to fight against his relatives, Daeron the Daring found himself inspired by his nephew, and he soon became the second to pledge himself to fight on the prosecution's side. The third fighter to pledge their sword was Aemond and Daeron's maternal uncle, Ser Gwayne Hightower of the Oldtown City Watch. Heartbroken over his older sister's untimely passing, Gwayne full-heartedly believed that his step-niece's daughter was responsible for Alicent's death, and revenge was what motivated him to go up against two of his sister's grandsons.

Kinsmen aside, Lyonel was able to find his last two fighters through some of the guests at the Hightower. Both men hailed from House Peake: Ser Titus Peake, the heir to Dunstonbury, Whitegrove, and Starpike, and his bastard half-uncle, Ser Mervyn Flowers. When the teams had been assembled, the trial was set to begin later that afternoon. Meanwhile, a raven was dispatched to King's Landing to inform the queen of both her stepmother's murder and the upcoming trial of seven. By the time Rhaenyra I received the letter, the Trial of Seven at Oldtown had begun.

It was held in the tourney grounds outside of Oldtown's walls the following morning. Crowds were usually huge when the tourney was being held, but now, it seemed that every Oldtowner was at the grounds. To prevent overcrowding, the city gates were shut, and Lyonel allowed for his subjects to watch the trial from above on Oldtown's walls. City walls may have provided a good view of the battleground, but it was the highborn guests who got the best view via the stands. Understandably, the pageantry of the celebrations had been toned down quite a bit, and black banners fluttered in the air or were hung from buildings in mourning of Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower's death.

Lyonel's family all wore black as they sat in the stands, and some of their guests wore black armbands to display their solidarity with the Hightower's. Even the High Septon himself attended the trial. He led the crowd and combatants in prayer, praying for the soul of the departed Alicent, and for the Warrior to bless the arms of the trial fighters, the Smith to strengthen their armor and shields, and for the Father to aid the righteous. It was the first trial of seven in sixteen years since the one that was held in Gulltown during the Arryn Succession Crisis in 134 AC, and the air was rife with tension and anxiety. What made this trial even more intense was that six members of the royal family were going to be fighting against each other, one of them being the Prince of Dragonstone himself.

Maelor squeezed the hilt of his sword and let out a deep sigh. Him being nervous was an understatement. Truthfully, Maelor was terrified. This was his first real swordfight, and he was going to be clashing with some of his own family members. Losing his grandmother and being accused of her murder were both immensely horrible, but Maelor was further horrified by the idea that he would actually become a kinslayer, or that his granduncle, or one of his uncles or cousins would become kinslayers by the end of the day.

"Father Above, let me see through this trying day..." Maelor prayed silently to himself as the High Septon went on with his sermon. "Crone, guide us. Warrior, guide our hands. Mother Above, if anything happens to me, please do not let any harm befall my wife and our children.

I want to see them again. I want to see Visenya, I want to see Rhaenys, and I want to see my new child after he or she is born... I want to see my mother and siblings again, too. Mother Above, my own mother has already buried her husband, my father, and will soon bury her mother, my grandmother. Please do not make her have to bury a son as well..."

As Maelor prayed, his brother and cousin took note of his sigh earlier, and they both contemplated their own anxiety over the trial. Jacaerys squeezed Blackfyre's hilt tightly. Aegon the Conqueror wielded this sword without hesitation during his Conquest, and Jace held a vague hope that some of his esteemed ancestor's strength and bravery would seep into him from Blackfyre. Jaehaerys uttered a silent prayer of his own. His opponent across from him was his own uncle, Daeron the Daring. Uncle and nephew exchanged mournful glances with each other. Daeron was hesitant to raise his sword against his sister's oldest son, but when his own boy, Valerion, had offered to take his place, Daeron vehemently declined the offer, and resolved himself to see this trial through without hurting any of his kinsmen too badly.

Standing face to face, the champions of the two accused, Prince Maelor and Princess Visenya Targaryen, were as follows: Maelor in the center – to his right were Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and Sers Percival Wylde and Connor Darklyn – to his left were Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, and Sers Edmund Naeryon and Glendon Goode. The champions of the accusers, Lord Lyonel Hightower and Princes Aemond and Daeron Targaryen, were as follows: Lyonel in the center – to his right were Prince Daeron Targaryen and Sers Gwayne Hightower and Mervyn Flowers – to his left were Princes Aemond and Lydus Targaryen and Ser Titus Peake. Besides Jaehaerys being pitted against his Uncle Daeron, his younger brother was across from their second cousin once removed, and their half-first cousin was across from their Uncle Aemond. Lydus's opponent was Jace's sworn shield, Ser Percival Wylde, and his granduncle, Ser Gwayne Hightower, was across from the sworn shield of his aunt and cousins, Ser Edmund Naeryon. Both of the Queensguard knights were across from the two Peake men, with Ser Darklyn going up against Titus, and Ser Goode against Mervyn.

Lyonel wasn't pleased about this either, but he was immensely confident that Maelor and Visenya had something to do with Queen Alicent's death, and Lyonel was sure that the gods would let the prosecution's side win today. Looking up at his family at their box in the stands, Lyonel's heart fell when he saw how worried they looked. Patricia and the girls all wore black dresses and veils. Willem wore all black as well, and being his father's oldest son and heir, he was sitting in Lyonel's chair beside his lady mother. Willem was fifteen, but his cleanshaven face made him look even younger, something that both his parents found endearing, although the bearded Lyonel did wonder from time to time whether he should encourage his son to grow a beard so that he could look older and be taken more seriously as a result.

"One more year until he turns sixteen." Lyonel thought wistfully. "If I were to die today during this trial or after it from some ghastly wound, at least Willem's regency won't last too long..."

Lyonel, surprised by how morose his thoughts had become, took a deep breath to try and dispel any bad feelings he had about this. Looking away from his family, Lyonel saw how worried his younger sister and half-brother and their families were. Sitting next to Bethany were Alys and Daenaera. Lady Velaryon looked to be on the verge of tears while her husband's mistress looked on with great interest as if she were an acolyte at the Citadel paying attention to an important lesson.

"Gods, that woman is strange..." Lyonel thought before turning his gaze back towards Maelor. Unlike his second cousin, Aemond was not at all nervous, and instead, he was ready to swing his sword around at Jacaerys since the bastard was on his case last night for trying to have Visenya arrested and Aemond wanted payback. Daeron felt conflicted. He did not want to harm his nephew, but at the same time, he wanted justice for his late mother, and he was willing to get that no matter what even if it meant going up against a kinsman.

All pondering stopped when the High Septon concluded his sermon. An uncomfortable silence followed as everyone waited for Willem to give the signal for the fighting to begin. The youth hesitated at first as he did not want his father to get hurt and he was also unused to shouldering the weight of such an obligation. Feeling like the Stranger, Willem gave the signal for the fighting to commence. Weapons raised up high in the air, the two teams rushed towards each other shouting war cries before finally clashing.

Although the Hightower-Targaryen kinsmen had hoped to simply overwhelm each other to the point that they would yield from exhaustion, emotion and bloodlust soon took over them, and the fight quickly became brutal. Maelor, who was desperate to clear both his and his wife's names, fought ferociously. He delivered an onslaught against Lyonel, which Lord Hightower returned in kind. Ser Flowers and Goode clashed with just as much vigor since both men were skilled and powerful warriors. Ser Naeryon, although younger than Princess Helaena's uncle, found it difficult to fend off Ser Hightower's blows as he fought to bring his sister's murderers to justice.

Princes Daeron and Jaehaerys were making a conscious effort to just try and tire each other out in hopes that one of them would yield before any blood could be spilled. Ser Peake, not wanting to be bested by a younger man, attacked Ser Darklyn without mercy, who in turn responded back with equal fierceness. Ser Wylde and Prince Lydus were locked in a fierce duel, with the former's ferociousness being spurned on by the tense nature of the combat being waged between Princes Aemond and Jacaerys. Having trained under Ser Criston Cole in his youth, Aemond was a highly skilled swordsman, and with his steel longsword in hand, he matched his Blackfyre wielding half-nephew blow for blow. Seeing Jacaerys wield the Conqueror's famous blade, a weapon that should have been passed down to Prince Aegon the Elder in the eyes of the Greens, awakened a great anger within Aemond, and he subconsciously strengthened his swings and thrusts.

Taking note of his half-uncle's increasing aggression, Jace put more energy into his own movements, and he held his ground against Aemond's onslaught. The two men tuned out the world around them as they fought each other tooth and nail. Tempers rose between the princes as they clashed.

"Bastard." chanted an angry Aemond in sync with his blows. "Bastard. Bastard. Bastard!"

"When will you let that go, uncle?" growled a simmering Jacaerys. He hadn't been called a bastard in a long time, and he hoped that his mother's half-brothers had at least buried their suspicions about his and Luke and Joff's paternity long ago in favor of peace and reconciliation. This trial was bringing out yesteryear's resentment from within these two men. Thirty-six year old Jace found his half-uncle's behavior to be immature and beneath him.

"After all this time and after everything that has been done to bring our family back together again, why are you that up now?"

"Because it is the damn truth!" hissed Aemond as he swung his sword towards Jace, who deftly blocked the attack. "We have all been living under a great farce for the past twenty-one years. A farce that all started the day Uncle Daemon stole the throne from my older brother, a throne which should have been his birthright the moment he drew his first breath! A birthright that should now belong to his sons and grandsons!"

The heated exchange between half-uncle and half-nephew caused the other fighters to stop what they were doing to watch and listen. The eyes of the audience were rapt on the two princes as they fought with both swords and words.

"The Iron Throne belongs to my mother!" snapped Jacaerys, whose trademark coolness was being sorely tested. "She was grandfather's oldest living child by his first wife. She was raised to become queen since she was seven years old. She solidified her claim by marrying my father, Ser Laenor Velaryon, the only son of the Queen Who Never Was, the grandson of the first Prince Aemon Targaryen, and bore him three sons of his own.

The blood of the Old King flows thickly through my family. My mother and siblings have more Valyrian blood in our veins than you and your siblings combined, Aemond!"

Jace's words caused Aemond to have a flashback to when he and his mother, brothers, and grandfather confronted King Viserys I Targaryen in his bedchamber after they learned that Rhaenyra was going to name Jacaerys as her heir to the Iron Throne upon her ascension. What Jacaerys said was nearly identical to what his grandfather had furiously stated to Queen Alicent, Ser Otto, and Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron all those years ago after Aemond tried to use the Velaryon Princes non-Valyrian appearance as a reason why they should be barred from inheriting the Iron Throne.

"Not Valyrian? Not Valyrian?! Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey have more Valyrian blood in them than both you and your brothers and sister combined!"

Dismissed and treated as being less to his older half-sister and her family twice in one lifetime was more than Aemond could bear. Something within him snapped. Fire filled his veins. Fire and blood. Aemond roared and he saw nothing but red.

His attacks became fiercer and Jace began to struggle against his half-uncle. Seeing the crown prince in trouble prompted Sers Darklyn and Goode to run to his aid, but they were stopped by their opponents. Sers Mervyn Flowers and Glendon Goode once again locked themselves in mortal combat, and Ser Connor Darklyn quickly grew frustrated with Ser Titus Peake. When Titus blocked his attack with a shield, Connor quickly sidestepped him and plunged his sword through Titus's left armpit, the tip traveling far enough to puncture his heart. Titus was dead before he even hit the ground.

Gasps resounded from the stands, which was soon punctuated by two loud mournful wails that emanated from Titus's now widowed wife, Lady Eleanor Tyrell, and their daughter, Lady Marianne Peake. Unhindered by Eleanor's sorrowful cries, Connor proceeded on his way to help Prince Jacaerys. Seeing his father in danger, Lydus in turn ran to help him, only for him to be tripped by Ser Percival Wylde, causing him to fall flat on the ground below. Feeling that Jace was in good hands with Ser Connor, Percival knelt down to restrain Lydus as he laid on the ground. Percival held a dagger to the prince's throat for good measure.

"This should quiet you." Percival mumbled as he held his sword underneath Lydus's throat. Taking note on how distressed his grandnephew was, Ser Gwayne Hightower blindsided Edmund by slamming the side of his helm with his iron cudgel hard enough to dent the metal and to concuss the poor man. With Ser Naeryon down, Gwayne, now dual-wielding a longsword and a cudgel after discarding his shield, intercepted Connor. Prince Jaehaerys ran to attend to his family's sworn shield, while his younger brother was restrained by their Uncle Daeron and Lord Lyonel Hightower.

Aemond and Jacaerys continued their duel unaware of what was going on around them. Matched blow for blow, neither man could land a decisive hit on the other.

"Yield, you little bastard!" shouted Aemond over the din of steel clanging. Frustration only added more heat to Aemond's boiling rage.

"Damn plate armor..." Aemond thought to himself. "Bastard's quick too. Where and how can I hit him? Hitting him and crippling him at the same time would be a great boon for me, too."

Crippling. Aemond then remembered something that his oldest son had told him all the way back the previous year. After returning from the Twentieth Year Tourney at Duskendale aback Seasmoke, Lydus had regaled his parents about the melee in great detail. The one detail that was now resonating in Aemond's mind was how Jace's nephew Aeric had crippled Ser Steffon Connington. Prince Aeric had stabbed the man below his left greave through chainmail and into his ankle, a wound that festered and resulted in Steffon having his foot amputated.

Casting a quick look down at Jace's feet, Aemond made it his mission to deliver the same stealthy attack. Aemond slashed his sword wildly at his half-nephew, who blocked them with Blackfyre. Coming to the conclusion that his current frontal assault against Jacaerys would not provide him with the opportunity he wanted, Aemond decided to try another tactic. The next time the swords touched, Aemond locked the blades and tried pushing his half-nephew back. Sweating profusely under their armor from the summer heat, Aemond and Jace felt what little was left of their energy seeping away from them.

Their feet slid slightly on the dusty ground, and their muscles began to tremble from overexertion. Fed up with this stalemate, Aemond suddenly stepped back, and, taking full advantage of the crown prince's exhaustion, circled around him. Without a moment to lose, Aemond plunged the tip of his sword beneath Jacaery's left greave and into his left ankle, just like what Aeric had done to Ser Connington. Jace yelled out in pain and tumbled down, using Blackfyre to keep himself from falling down completely.

"Jacaerys!" shouted Maelor as Lyonel and Daeron restrained him.

The two Queensguard knights, exhausted as they were after defeating their opponents, rushed over to aid the crown prince. Before they could reach Jace, however, Aemond went for Blackfyre. Weakened from both agonizing pain and great exhaustion, Jace's grip on Blackfyre's hilt was not strong, and Aemond was able to yank the sword away from him. Seeing the approaching white clad knights, Aemond swung the sword at both Connor and Glendon to keep them away from him. Gasps of horror could be heard coming from both the stands and the other champions.

Deprived of his sword, Jacaerys grabbed Aemond's longsword, which he had dropped, and he used that to help pull himself up from the ground to take the pressure off his wounded ankle. As if the pain wasn't enough for Jace to deal with, the temperature had increased, heating up the armor that Jace was wearing and making it feel like he was wearing a heated oven. Sweat was pouring down his face. A warm breeze blew through the tourney grounds, and Jace pulled off his helm and dropped it on the ground. Seeing his half-nephew remove his helm made Aemond realize that he too was sweating profusely and feeling overheated, and he took off his helm and savored the feeling of the moving air blowing through his moistened hair.

Not a word was uttered by the spectators or the other champions as the two princes glared at each other. Aemond then pointed Blackfyre at Jacaerys, taking pleasure in repeating what Jace had done to him last night during their confrontation in Visenya's bedchamber. Glendon and Connor moved in, but they were stopped by an order from the wounded crown prince himself.

"Yield." Aemond commanded. Jacaerys glared at his half-uncle with a reproachful gaze. Maelor glanced between his uncle and half-cousin with an anxious expression. If Jace yielded, then would Maelor yield too? Perhaps that was what Aemond One-Eye hoped would happen.

"Never." declared a defiant Jace.

"Yield." repeated a wrathful Aemond. "Yield in the name of justice. In the name of my murdered mother, Queen Alicent Hightower."

Jace was tired of Aemond. He was tired of Alicent. He was tired of Oldtown. In pain, exhausted, sweaty, and fed up with the whole thing, Jace had had enough. He had let his half-uncle say what he wanted to say out of courtesy, and Jace was now all out of courtesies.

He narrowed his eyes at Aemond.

"Queen Alicent was not my grandmother. Queen Aemma was. Now put that sword down nice and gently, and you yield instead. Retract your accusation against my sister and her husband, your nephew. Do that, I will make no mention of you calling me a bastard to my mother.

Does that sound fair?"

Instead of taking up on the offer, Aemond only found more anger in what was being said to him. Blackfyre shook in the prince's hand as it trembled with anger.

"No, no, no! Your sister murdered my mother! She is the only one who had the motive and opportunity to kill her. She could have manipulated Maelor into-"

"Oh, to hell with your mother!" snapped Jace in a rare moment of unbridled anger that surprised everyone. "She was a scheming, grasping, jealous woman. I would not be surprised if the Lord of the Seven Hells is enjoying her company as we speak!"

Aemond experienced a sense of lightness after hearing that vile declaration from his half-nephew. It was like an out of body experience. His body seemed to be under the control of a puppeteer that had been created from his own fury. He drew Blackfyre back to his right with both hands, charged at Jacaerys, and then swung the sword with all his might towards the younger prince's unprotected neck. All Jace could do was widen his eyes as the cold steel cut through his neck as if it were butter.

One slash was all it took. A single soft thud resounded after Jace's severed head fell to his feet. His body seized before it fell down on its right thanks to the weight of the longsword in Jace's hand. The attack happened so quickly that it was like a blur. Jace was whole and alive one moment, headless and dead the next. A horrified silence washed over the spectators.

It was as if everyone had stopped breathing, and not even the singing birds and crying seagulls could be heard anymore. Hands over mouths, clasping the sides of faces, or jaws hanging open with wide eyes could be seen all over the tourney grounds. Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, the Prince of Dragonstone and the Hand of the Queen, was dead. Beheaded like a traitor. Beheaded by his own half-uncle.

Aemond, with Blackfyre still tightly gripped in his hands, was petrified where he stood deeply shocked and slowly beginning to grasp the horrific gravity of the situation that he was now in. He had committed one of the gravest of sins - kinslaying; having accused his half-niece of the same crime, Aemond ended up becoming a kinslayer himself. The silence was broken by the distant roar of a dragon coming from the direction of Battle Isle. No doubt the roar belonged to Vermax, who had sensed his rider's death and was now mourning him. Vermax's roar seemed to wake everyone from their shock.

"Murderer!" shouted Ser Percival Wylde with passionate rage.

Forgetting about Lydus, Percival leapt up from his captive and ran towards Aemond from behind with his dagger raised. Sers Darklyn and Goode reached Aemond before Percival could, and they seized him.

"Grab the sword, Percvial!" shouted Connor. "Grab it!"

Ser Wylde did as he was told and he wrestled Blackfyre from Aemond's grasp. The two men looked each other in the eye. Aemond's expression was dark and seemingly apathetic while Percival's was both angry and sorrowful. Tears glimmered in Ser Wylde's eyes. He had failed to protect the prince, a man he had served for twenty years since boyhood.

Percival tightened his grip on Blackfyre's hilt with every intention of cutting off Prince Aemond's head to avenge Jace. A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him, though.

"Easy, Percival." the voice belonged to Jaehaerys. "It won't do Jace any good. Please, no more bloodshed today..."

The sorrowful sworn shield nodded silently and he eased his stance. He turned to look at Prince Jaehaerys. Jaehaerys's purple eyes were glistening, and he looked shaken. His younger brother stood a few feet away alone, shocked, and mournful. Tears were in his eyes, too.

Visenya was going to have to be told that her eldest half-brother was gone. Not only that, but the murder accusations against both her and Maelor were still standing albeit they were unsubstantial. The couple would also have to deal with the fact that their own uncle was the one who took Jacaerys away from their family. Gods, both the royal family and the Seven Kingdoms would have to be informed of this double tragedy at Oldtown.

The response to the news was to be expected. Both Visenya and Jaehaera broke down when they heard the news of Jace's death. Helaena was able to keep herself together, but she wept all the same over the triple tragedy of her losing both her mother and half-nephew within hours of each other and that her younger brother Aemond was responsible for the death of the latter. Prince Aegon and Princess Aeva were old enough to grasp the tragedy of Jace's death and they were saddened by it even though they had not been too close with their parents' half-cousin. Gaemon the Blind could not really grasp what was going on, but he could hear his relatives crying, and it distressed him, resulting in him being embraced by his younger brother and sister, which calmed him down right away.

Lydus was more terrified for his father than he was sorrowful over his half-cousin's death. Alys shared her son's sentiments, and for the first time that anyone at the Hightower could remember, Alys was openly distraught. With his father imprisoned, Lydus stepped up as the head of his family. He comforted his mother, and did the same for his equally distraught stepmother and younger half-brother, too. Daeron was in the same boat as his nephew, and he was terrified for his older brother Aemond.

A portion of the terror that uncle and nephew shared stemmed from their anxiety over how Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen was going to react to the news that her younger half-brother had killed her beloved eldest child. Lord Lyonel Hightower dictated to Maester Ulrich a very carefully worded letter for the queen regarding her eldest son's death. Both men whispered a prayer as the raven flew off in the direction of King's Landing. The raven flew over a city that seemed to be covered in a pall of depression and anxiety. The day after the raven was dispatched, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was cremated, and Ser Mervyn Flowers died from his wounds.

Jace's cremation was held in the Hightower's main courtyard. Both the Targaryen's and Hightower's attended the funeral. Oldtown's silent sisters had sewn Jace's head back on, and the collar of his tunic was pulled up to cover the sutures. Vermax was still too agitated to be approached by anyone, and the task of lighting Jace's funeral pyre fell to Meteor. Prince Jaehaerys had volunteered to have Shrykos do it, but his younger brother Maelor insisted that Meteor do it instead out of both gratitude and guilt.

Just like King Aegon I Targaryen, Jacaerys's hands were folded over Blackfyre's hilt. All was quiet after Meteor lit the pyre with bluish-grey flames. All that could be heard was the rumbling of dragonfire and the muffled crying of Visenya, Helaena, Jaehaera, Daenaera, and even Bethany and Patricia. Maelor's eyes shined with tears as he watched his brother-in-law's body burn. Alys Rivers watched the pyre with interest.

Watching the flames dance about was hypnotizing. As she watched the fire burn, Alys's mind was transported somewhere beyond the corporeal realm. She saw herself before the Iron Throne in an empty and quiet throne room. The empty eye sockets of the four dragon skulls hanging on the walls stared down at her. Alys was confused.

Why were the flames showing her the Red Keep's throne room? Where was everyone? Faint growling sounds could be heard in the throne room. Alys looked up at the skulls. The growling grew louder and then the mandibles dropped. Dragonfire began to manifest within the dry maws of Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, and Quicksilver.

Alys stepped back as the fire built up. But before she could run, the dragonfire shot out from the skulls, and Alys was engulfed. She was not burned however, and when the flames subsided, Alys found herself in a nightmarish environment. The walls of the throne room were now made of fire, the ceiling was black with smoke, and the floor was a body of fresh blood about half an inch deep.

As if this wasn't horrifying enough, the fiery walls and bloody floor were not what Alys was focusing on. She was staring at the Iron Throne, which had "grown" three-times its original size, and it looked like a mountain of twisted steel and iron blades; a fitting seat for the Lord of the Seven Hells, himself. The bladed "barbs" were now as big as trees and, much to Alys's growing horror, they were "decorated" with the impaled bodies of men, women, and children. Disturbing laughter emanated from the apex of the Iron Throne. Alys saw someone sitting up there, and, with nowhere else to go, she ascended the steps to see who that person was.

Alys stopped halfway up the steps once she saw not who but what was sitting on the Iron Throne. It was a skeleton dressed in a black and red dress and wearing a crown on its head. The skeleton had silver-gold hair and lidless purple eyes. It was laughing uncontrollably as tears of blood poured down its cheekbones. At some point, the skeleton stopped laughing and glared at Alys.

With a rictus grin and unblinking eyes, the skeleton queen got up from her seat and made her way towards Alys, who remained perfectly still despite what was happening. The skeleton stopped when she was face to face with Alys. Without a word, she took the crown off from her head and offered it to Alys. The crown was the same as the one worn by Rhaenyra I. Feeling obligated to take the crown, Alys barely touched it when the crown shimmered and transformed into a gilded and bejeweled serpent that bit her hand with a venomous mouth.

The venom burned and caused Alys to catch a glimpse of the future that was in store for everyone. Armies clashing; red blood spilling on the ground as a rainbow of banners fluttered in the air. Prince Aeric wearing black armor and swinging his bastard sword left and right. Dragons battling each other in the air with fire, claws, and teeth. Ships being turned into floating pyres on the sea.

Razor sharp blades slicing through necks and joints and stabbing stomachs, chests, and backs. Princess Laena grabbing her face, which was splattered with blood, with both her hands and letting out a chilling scream. Three princesses laying waste to a verdant land with their dragons – Alys saw one princess brandishing a spear, one using whip, and the other firing off arrows. Trebuchets flinging rocks and boulders at city walls.

Blood.

Tears.

Betrayal.

Devastation.

Death.

There was so much of it. So, so much of it... Alys remembered having a similar albeit less graphic and detailed vision about this chaos many, many years ago. But as the decades came and went and no such bloodbath took place, she thought that maybe it was prevented. But what she did not know then, but knew now, was that the coming terror had been lying dormant all this time, and it was starting to awaken.

"Mother...?" uttered a faint voice. "Mother?"

The voice belonged to Prince Lydus Targaryen. Alys snapped out of her disturbing vision, but her eyes remained wide.

"What is the matter?" the concerned prince asked.

Alys said nothing at first. She slowly turned to face her son, who was taken aback by the look in his mother's eyes. Alys quietly reached out to touch her son's hand as it gently gripped her arm. She leaned her head in to whisper something to Lydus, and he leaned in to listen.

"Something horrible is coming, my son. Your grandmother's death was just the beginning."

"What?" whispered an unnerved Lydus.

"War, Lydus, a great war is coming. It has been biding its time, hibernating like a bear. And now, that bear is awakening, and an insatiable hunger for blood will torment it for as long as it lives..."

Lydus stared at his mother wide-eyed. He believed her and knew that everything she had just said was true. But Lydus was desperate to believe that what his mother had seen was just a bad dream conjured up by the ominous portend that followed Jacaerys's death. And yet, Lydus knew he could not deny the truth of what his seeress of a mother had seen. Casting his gaze back to the flames, Lydus's own mind was soon plagued with images of blood and death.

A raven from King's Landing flew to the Hightower as Jace's funeral pyre burned down to smoldering embers. The Hightower's gaoler ran out into the courtyard, his ring of keys jingling from his hip. Lyonel turned to face the man. Once the gaoler had caught his breath, the news he relayed to Lyonel only added more to his stress. Prince Aemond Targaryen had escaped from his cell.

There are two reasons why it took me awhile to get this chapter out. The first one is that I was wracking my brain over whether the trial of seven would be a realistic outcome, and the second is that I did not want to kill Jacaerys off. Remember Alyssa's dream from the previous chapter? She dreamed of her own father's death... dire213, you will see how the Dance will happen.

To quote from the "A Song of Ice and Fire Wikipedia", the Dance was a war of stealth and betrayal, and believe me, a lot of that will be happening. I've got a lot of ideas, and I can't wait to share them. Anyway, thank you for reading. :)