The Reach ― Between the route near Starpike and Whitegrove…
With news arriving from their allies at the frontlines, the Caltrops leadership speculated that it wouldn't be long before the battle reached their doorstep. Starpike, lacking the protection of Prince Aemond, Ser Criston, or Vhagar, was now vulnerable to attack. To avoid a prolonged siege, they decided it was time to relocate once again. Queen Dowager Beatrice, accompanied by her father, Lord Unwin, her daughter Helaena, her granddaughter Jaehaera, and Larys Strong, along with a group of their escorts, were en route to Whitegrove. The presence of Dreamfyre provided them a sense of security as they journeyed toward their new destination.
However, to their surprise, Aegon Waters was not among them. Despite Beatrice's repeated inquiries, Larys remained tight-lipped. It was unclear why he was absent. Did Larys have a hand in his disappearance, perhaps having him killed while he was under the influence of milk of the poppy, or did he secretly smuggle him away without their knowledge?
As night fell, darkness enveloped the surroundings, with only the flickering light of torches illuminating the way. The group pressed on, their footsteps echoing through the quiet forest. The sound of rustling leaves and distant hoots of owls added an eerie atmosphere to their journey. Beatrice couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her chest. She glanced at Larys, who sat silently beside her in the carriage, his face hidden in the shadows.
"Where is Aegon?" Beatrice finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Larys turned his head slightly, his eyes glinting in the torchlight. "He is safe," he replied cryptically, his voice laced with a hint of secrecy.
Beatrice's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing with possibilities. Was her son being held captive? Was he being used as leverage against them? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she knew better than to press Larys further. His loyalty had always been questionable, and she couldn't risk alienating him now. As they continued their journey, the group's anxiety grew with each passing moment. The forest seemed to close around them, the trees whispering secrets they couldn't decipher. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the ground, making it difficult to discern friend from foe. Beatrice clutched her granddaughter Jaehaera's hand tightly, seeking solace in the presence of her family.
Helaena, broken by the murder of her son, was deeply depressed. She became unreliable as a dragonrider, incapable of flying on Dreamfyre. "Black… the color of ash, red… the color of blood," she stared into space, mumbling under her breath. "The dragon dances in the sky… and chases its own tail. But in the end… consumes itself…"
"Hush, girl," Beatrice silently reprimanded her daughter.
As they continued their journey, the tension in the air grew palpable. Each member of the group was acutely aware of the weight of their responsibilities and the dangers that lay ahead. The news from their allies had painted a grim picture of the escalating conflict, and they knew that time was running out. The flickering torches cast long, wavering shadows that seemed to taunt them, playing tricks on their minds. Every rustle of leaves or distant howl of a wolf sent shivers down their spines, reminding them of the ever-present threat that lurked in the night.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the underbrush, causing everyone to freeze in their tracks. The escorts tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to defend their queen and her family.
"My lord! Your Grace!" a Peake soldier rushed over, his voice filled with urgency. "Whitegrove is ablaze!"
"WHAT?!" Unwin's reaction was immediate and filled with shock. He forcefully swung open the doors to the royal carriage, his eyes widening as he took in the devastating sight before him.
Whitegrove, one of the three castles belonging to House Peake, was subject to a catastrophic blaze that destroyed it beyond recognition. The source of the inferno was Vaelor's destructive conflagration, which engulfed the castle in an unrelenting assault of black flames tinged with crimson hues. The air was thick with smoke that carried the scent of burning wood and stone, making it difficult to breathe. The intense heat radiating from the flames was so excruciating that it seemed to melt the very foundations of the castle. The towers that had once stood tall and proud cracked and crumbled under the relentless assault of the flames, their once sturdy structures reduced to grotesque formations of molten stone. The fire twisted and danced, leaving behind a trail of devastation that was impossible to miss. The castle, which had once been a source of income for the House Peake, now lay in ruins, consumed by the raging inferno that had destroyed everything in its path.
Initially, Unwin's mind struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the situation, leaving him momentarily speechless. However, as his thoughts began to form, he grasped the gravity of the situation. The enemy had breached the heart of their territory, and only one dragonrider could inflict such damage. "Turn us around!" Unwin bellowed at the driver, his voice filled with urgency. "Get us out of here!"
The soldiers scrambled to fulfill Unwin's orders, their movements frantic and filled with a sense of urgency. They quickly closed the carriage doors, shielding the royal family from the chaos outside. As the carriage began to turn, Unwin's eyes remained fixed on the burning castle. The flames seemed to dance and taunt him, a cruel reminder of the power and destruction that Aeonar and his dragon possessed. Unwin's grip on the carriage's armrest tightened, his knuckles turning white. He knew that facing Aeonar and his dragon head-on would be futile. They needed a plan, a strategy to outwit and overcome their enemy. Unwin's mind raced, searching for any glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
"Father? What is going on?" Beatrice asked, only for her father to look at her with crazed eyes.
"It's Aeonar… He's here."
Beatrice's complexion paled even further, her knuckles turning white as she clung to Helaena. Aeonar… here? No… No, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening! Not now!
"Black… the color of ash, red… the color of blood. The dragon dances in the sky… and chases its own tail. But in the end… consumes itself…"
"Silence her!" Unwin bellowed, his eyes scanning the skies anxiously, anticipating the sudden appearance of a dragon. He cursed Aemond's absence and lamented the treachery of Ulf White and Hugh Hammer. Without dragons to safeguard them, they were defenseless.
Helaena's prophecy hung heavy in the air, her words echoing in the minds of those who heard them. The significance of her cryptic message was not lost on Unwin, who knew all too well the power and destruction dragons could bring. The absence of these mighty creatures left them vulnerable, exposed to the whims of fate and the machinations of their enemies. The skies remained ominously empty, devoid of the majestic creatures that had once ruled the skies. Beatrice's anxiety grew with each passing moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that danger lurked just beyond their sight.
The tranquil atmosphere was abruptly shattered by a succession of deafening thuds that echoed through the air. The sudden disturbance caught the Peake soldiers off guard, causing them to startle in fear and wonder about the origin of the clamor.
"What was that?" one of the Peake soldiers uttered with fright.
Dreamfyre lifted her head, emitting a low growl filled with caution. "*Grrrrrrrrr!*" The ancient dragon sniffed the air, detecting the presence of another dragon three times her size somewhere nearby. As Dreamfyre turned her massive body, her wings gracefully unfurled, casting a shadow over the dense forest. With each beat, the air around her shimmered, creating a symphony of ethereal whispers. Dreamfyre instinctively felt something was behind her.
However, it was too late.
"*RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!*"
Before Dreamfyre could fully comprehend the danger that loomed behind her, a thunderous roar shattered the tranquility of the forest. As she turned around, the last thing she saw was the terrifying sight of Vaelor lunging at her from the dense foliage, his massive frame propelling him through the air like a dark comet, with his jaws open wide, revealing a cavernous maw that seemed to devour the very essence of the world. Dreamfyre desperately tried to evade the impending doom. But fate was cruel, and in a cruel twist of destiny, Vaelor's jaws closed down, seizing Dreamfyre by the neck, and lifted her off the ground like it was nothing. Dreamfyre's body convulsed in agony as Vaelor's razor-sharp teeth sank deep into her flesh, piercing through scales and muscles with ease. The excruciating pain surged through her body, causing her to let out a shrieking roar of terror that echoed through the surrounding mountains. Her once majestic wings, now rendered useless, flailed helplessly as she desperately tried to free herself from Vaelor's vice-like grip. The sheer power behind his bite was unimaginable, staining the forest floor crimson as her life force slowly drained away. The immense pressure on her neck made breathing impossible, each gasp for air becoming more feeble than the last. The scent of her mortality filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the dense foliage surrounding them. Flexing all the power in his jaw muscles, Vaelor's bite force shattered Dreamfyre's spinal cord like brittle twigs. The sound of crunching bones echoed through the forest, a haunting melody that marked the end of an old era. The world around Dreamfyre blurred, her vision fading into darkness as her life force slowly ebbed away.
"DRAGON!" the Peake guardsmen shouted in alarm.
Vaelor released his grip, letting Dreamfyre's lifeless body fall to the ground. "*RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!*" He let out a triumphant roar, his ambush a success.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Lykiri Mere assassins emerged stealthily from the dense underbrush. They were joined by Targaryen men-at-arms, encircling the carriage from every direction. Their presence was unexpected, their movements silent and calculated, their presence barely a whisper in the wind. Clad in dark, form-fitting attire that blended seamlessly with the surrounding foliage, they seemed to materialize out of thin air; the Lykiri Mere blended seamlessly with the shadows, their training evident in every step they took. Each member of the elite group possessed a unique set of skills honed through years of rigorous training and countless missions.
"Ambush!"
As if the sudden appearance of the Lykiri agents was not enough to send a chill down one's spine, they were soon joined by Aeonar's elite guards. These Targaryen household knights, renowned for their unwavering loyalty, encircled the carriage with a precision that spoke volumes of their training and discipline. Each soldier stood tall and proud, their armor gleaming in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the canopy above. The air crackled with tension as the unsuspecting carriage occupants found themselves trapped in a web of danger. Panic and confusion washed over them, their eyes darting from one menacing figure to another. The Lykiri Mere assassins and the Targaryen knights formed an impenetrable barrier, leaving no room for escape.
The Lykiri Mere agents, known for blending seamlessly into any environment, seemed to possess an otherworldly grace as they moved with calculated precision. Their eyes, sharp and piercing eyes, scanned the surroundings, ensuring no threat went unnoticed. Gloved in supple leather, their hands rested lightly on the hilts of concealed weapons, ready to strike at a moment's notice. In stark contrast, the Targaryen men-at-arms exuded an aura of raw power and strength. Clad in armor adorned with the sigil of their noble house, they stood as a united force, their unwavering loyalty to their liege evident in their unwavering gazes. Each soldier held a weapon, be it a gleaming sword or a deadly pike, their muscles taut and ready for action. The encirclement of the carriage was complete, leaving no doubt that these two formidable forces had converged with a purpose. The occupants of the carriage, now fully aware of the dire situation they found themselves in, could only wonder what fate awaited them at the hands of these mysterious agents and battle-hardened warriors. The operatives and soldiers moved synchronously, choreographed like a well-rehearsed dance.
The Peake soldiers, still recovering from the initial shock, quickly realized the gravity of the situation. Panic spread through the ranks as they scrambled to defend themselves against the unexpected attack. With a battle cry on his lips, each House Peake guardsman charged toward the nearest Lykiri Mere agent, his blade slashing through the air. The clash of steel echoed through the forest as the two sides engaged in a fierce melee. Chaos ensued as swords clashed, arrows flew, and fire erupted from the mouths of the remaining dragons. The Peake soldiers fought bravely, but they were outnumbered and outmatched.
The once peaceful forest became a battleground, with screams, roars, and the clash of steel filling the air. The Peake soldiers fought desperately, their fear fueling their determination to survive. But their efforts seemed futile against the might of Aeonar's men and his Lykiri Mere agents.
"Run! Get us out of here!" Beatrice screamed, clutching her granddaughter in her arms.
"There's too many of them!" one of the guards shouted.
"Black… the color of ash, red… the color of blood. The dragon dances in the sky… and chases its own tail. But in the end… consumes itself…"
"Your Grace! This way!" Ser Amaury Peake, one of the Caltrops Kingsguards, beckoned.
Surrounded by her relatives and Kingsguard escorts, Beatrice desperately tried to navigate a path to safety, pulling Helaena along with her. As Beatrice and Helaena continued their frantic search for safety, the sounds of battle grew louder and more chaotic. The air was thick with the scent of blood and the cries of the wounded. Beatrice's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing about escape and survival. She couldn't help but wonder how Aeonar had managed to track them down so quickly. Had he intercepted a message? Had someone betrayed them? The thought of a traitor among their ranks sent a shiver down her spine, but she quickly dismissed it. Aeonar had served as both his Master of Whisperers and Hand of the King to her late husband, King Viserys I Targaryen. His skills as a spymaster were renowned, and it was more likely that he had outmaneuvered them through his vast network of informants. The thought of Aeonar's network brought to mind the famous song "A Thousand Eyes, and Two." It was a haunting melody that spoke of the spymaster's ability to see and hear everything, his informants scattered throughout the realm like hidden eyes. It was a reminder of the power and reach that Aeonar possessed and the danger that came with underestimating him.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Beatrice's mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. She knew they couldn't stay in the open for much longer. The Kingsguard escorts fought bravely, but they were outnumbered and overwhelmed. They needed to find a haven, a place where they could regroup and strategize. As she pulled Helaena along, Beatrice's eyes scanned the chaos around them. Arrows whizzed through the air, narrowly missing their targets. Swords clashed, creating a symphony of steel against steel. Bodies fell to the ground, their lifeless forms a grim reminder of the stakes at hand. The panic and worry that consumed Beatrice threatened to overwhelm her. She had never imagined that Aeonar would be so relentless in his pursuit. He was a formidable adversary, cunning and resourceful.
With each twist and turn, Beatrice's desperation grew. She needed to find a way out, a path to safety. She pushed forward with every ounce of strength she possessed, leading Helaena through the tumultuous battlefield. But the chaos seemed to close around them, suffocating any hope of escape. She looked around at her remaining Kingsguard, their armor battered and bloodied but their determination unwavering. They were her last line of defense, her protectors in this treacherous world.
"This way, Your Grace! We'll keep you safe!" Ser Mervyn Flowers declared.
Nevertheless, a sudden arrow swiftly soared through the air from the foliage, finding its mark in Mervyn's throat. He emitted a gurgling sound. The unexpected attack silenced Lord Unwin's bastard half-brother forever as three more arrows forcefully penetrated his breastplate. Mervyn's lifeless body collapsed to the ground, leaving Beatrice in a state of shock and horror. Her eyes widened, unable to comprehend the sudden brutality that had unfolded before her.
Meanwhile, Helaena continued to mutter enigmatically, her words growing more rapid, "Black… the color of ash, red… the color of blood. The dragon dances in the sky… and chases its own tail. But in the end… consumes itself…"
Amidst the turmoil, Jaehaera, Helaena's young daughter, clung tightly to her mother, trembling with fear. Her small frame shook uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face. The sight of her mother's distress only heightened her own sense of vulnerability. She desperately sought solace and reassurance, hoping that her mother's love could shield her from the horrors unfolding around them.
Beatrice narrowed her eyes and saw Aeonar Targaryen emerging from the underbrush — in full night-black plate armor, with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in rubies on its breastplate and golden ringmail underneath the plate with his 7-foot Yi Tish longbow in his hand — casting a predatory glare at her. "You," she hissed.
"Like a moth to a flame, I knew you would come this way… Beatrice," Aeonar narrowed his eyes in response.
"Stay back!" the Caltrops Kingsguards charged.
"Hmph." Aeonar remained unimpressed as he skillfully evaded every attack, effortlessly maneuvering through the onslaught without flinching. To him, Amaury Peake, Gareth Long, Lucas Leygood, Marston Waters, Gedmund Peake, and Victor Risley were mere amateurs in the Young Dragon's eyes. With his extensive combat experience and rigorous training in Lykiri Mere, Aeonar held a clear advantage over his opponents despite them outnumbering him. He could predict their every move, swiftly adapting with speed, balance, and grace, and exploit any vulnerabilities he detected in their forms.
Oh, blood will out. It cannot be contained.
Once more, the six Caltrops Kingsguards hastened to confront Aeonar in fierce combat. However, the Young Dragon was well-prepared for their assault. Skillfully twirling his Yi Tish bow, he deflected the strikes of Gareth and Gedmund, swiftly evaded the oncoming attacks of Victor and Marston, and promptly struck Amaury and Lucas aside with the flat edges of his bow. Seizing the opportunity, Aeonar swiftly spun around, his Yi Tish bow becoming an extension of his body. Without wasting a moment, he swiftly refocused his attention on Gedmund. While Gedmund Great-Axe had prowess as a warrior, Aeonar anticipated his move, sidestepping with grace and precision, causing the Kingsguard to stumble forward, off-balance. Seizing the opportunity, Aeonar swiftly spun around, his bow becoming an extension of his body. With a precise and calculated movement, he struck Gareth's exposed back with the flat side of his bow, sending a shockwave of pain through the Kingsguard's body. Gareth let out a grunt of agony.
Meanwhile, Victor and Marston, realizing the futility of their direct assaults, decided to employ a different strategy. They circled Aeonar, attempting to flank him from both sides. But Aeonar, his senses heightened, anticipated their every move. As Victor lunged forward, his sword aimed at Aeonar's chest, the Young Dragon swiftly ducked, narrowly avoiding the deadly strike. In one fluid motion, Aeonar spun around, his Yi Tish bow whirling through the air. The sharp edges of the bow connected with Marston's arm, causing him to drop his weapon in pain. Aeonar wasted no time, delivering a swift high kick to Marston's face, making him spin with disorientation and crumple to the ground.
Gedmund turned back around and again swung his axe, but the Young Dragon was not so easily fooled. Aeonar evaded Gedmund's attack with a graceful leap, landing behind him. Aeonar swiftly ensnared him with the taut bowstring of his Yi Tish bow. With a mighty pull and release, the flat end of the bow struck Gedmund's face with a resounding impact. Gedmund stumbled backward, clutching his bleeding nose, his eyes watering from the intense pain. Aeonar took advantage of Gedmund's momentary distraction and swiftly closed the distance between them. With a lightning-fast strike, he delivered a powerful kick to Gedmund's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Almost instantly, he unsheathed Blackfyre and a Westerosi longsword from his scabbards, dual-wielding the two blades through the air, its deadly arcs creating a symphony of death.
All six surround Aeonar and attack all at once, but the Young Dragon deflects all their blows repeatedly, then repositions himself. In a swift and deadly motion, Aeonar strikes Gareth down with a powerful downward strike from both of his blades. Undeterred, Victor and Marston step forward to confront Aeonar, but he effortlessly deflects their attacks once again. In a swift motion, he swiftly slices Lucas' throat, leaving him gasping for breath, and then runs Amaury through with Blackfyre. Despite their failed attempts, Gedmund, Victor, and Marston cautiously encircle Aeonar, searching for an opening. Aeonar, twirling both Blackfyre and the traditional longsword in his hands, points his blades towards them, issuing a daring challenge for them to attack him simultaneously once more.
"'Kingsguard', huh. I expected more."
Gedmund charged forward first, his great axe raised high above his head. Aeonar's eyes narrowed, his focus honed on Gedmund's every movement. With a swift sidestep, he evaded the thunderous swing of the axe, causing Gedmund to stumble forward, off-balance. Seizing the opportunity, Aeonar swiftly spun around, his blades slicing through the air with a flick of his wrist to decapitate Gedmund Great-Axe. Not wasting a moment, Victor seizes the opportunity to strike from the opposite side—his sword arcs through the air, aiming for Aeonar's vulnerable back. But Aeonar's reflexes and agility allow him to spin on his heel, narrowly evading Victor's attack, and counters with a lightning-fast thrust that sends Victor staggering backward, blood staining his armor. Seeing his comrades' failed attempts, Marston grits his teeth and charges at Aeonar with renewed determination. His sword slashes through the air, aiming for Aeonar's chest. But Aeonar sidesteps Marston's strike with fluid grace, his blades dancing in perfect synchronization. In one swift motion, Aeonar brings his blades down, slicing through Marston's defenses and leaving him gasping for air, his lifeblood staining the ground beneath him.
"Pathetic."
"I-Impossible…" Beatrice stammered in shock, taking a few steps back.
"Black… the color of ash, red… the color of blood—" Heleana murmured brokenly.
A predatory grin appears on Aeonar's face. "'The dragon dances in the sky and chases its own tail. But in the end, consumes itself.'" he finishes his half-sister's cryptic tone. The Young Dragon turned to Beatrice. "You lost this war the moment you proposed defiance, Beatrice. All for the sake of seizing power for yourself, to rise above your station," he approached her menacingly. "Well, no more. You've dug your own grave."
"No! This is not right! If only you had stayed out of the way at Essos or Dragonstone, wherever… if only you had been far away, my plans would've gone perfectly!"
Vaelor peered down at the defeated Caltrops; his teeth bared menacingly toward those who dared to threaten and insult his rider. His sharp claws dug into the ground, leaving deep imprints as a warning to anyone who dared to challenge him or his rider. The Swiftrunner was not one to let such actions go unpunished. The dragon's loyalty to Aeonar was unwavering, and he would protect his rider at any cost.
"I told you: no one hides from me forever. The result would have been the same. All you did was buy yourself a little time, but your demise was inevitable."
"Damn brat…!" Beatrice cursed.
Aeonar smirked. "How delightful to hear you spew such venomous thoughts, Beatrice. Please, continue," he folded his arms. "What's the matter? Going to cry like a little girl?"
"Your smugness is an insult! You're not my better! Just kill me and get it over with!"
"A quick death… like the one your son gave mine?" Aeonar's smirk turned into a deep frown. The memory of Daeron's death still lingered in his mind. Your son is dead, nephew. The traitor Aemond killed him. "No," he shook his head. "No, your torment has only just begun."
"What?!"
"What you're experiencing now is but a small fraction of the great pain your house caused me."
"Damn you, Aeonar!"
One by one, the Lykiri Mere and Targaryen men-at-arms loyal to the Young Dragon bound and gagged Beatrice, Helaena, Unwin, and Larys. The chains that bound them seemed to tighten as if responding to Aeonar's command, leaving them no room for escape. Each moved swiftly to secure the prisoners. Each chain was meticulously fastened, ensuring that even the slightest struggle would be met with pain. Bound by chains and surrounded by Aeonar's men, escape seemed impossible. Jaehaera was separated from her mother, and her cries and pleas went unheeded.
"I'm not done with you yet, Beatrice. You will suffer as no one has ever suffered." I will enjoy breaking you. "Ziry nājikātās! (Take them away!)"
As the Blacks led Beatrice, Helaena, Unwin, and Larys Strong towards the awaiting carriage, their heads covered with bags to conceal their identities, Aeonar watched their departure with a mix of satisfaction. As he gripped Jaehaera's arm firmly, Aeonar's determination grew more assertive. He knew the road ahead would be treacherous and filled with obstacles, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to achieve his ultimate goal - absolute control and the solidification of the House of the Dragon under his reign. The Targaryen dynasty would no longer be divided by internal power struggles and conflicting ambitions. Under Aeonar's leadership, it would rise to new heights, united and unstoppable.
A new Valyrian Freehold would rule the world once again!
With the Caltrops' central leadership out of the way, Aeonar knew that the remaining obstacles obstructing his path toward complete control over the Seven Kingdoms were Aemond Targaryen and Criston Cole. These two figures held significant influence and power within the realm, and their loyalty to the current regime threatened Aeonar's ambitions.
But tonight…
…vengeance was his.
And it was oh so sweet.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Picking up where the last chapter left off, the ambush set by Aeonar Targaryen was sprung on the Caltrops' main leadership. With Beatrice, Unwin, Helaena and Larys in his custody, the Young Dragon delivered a decisive blow to the opposition. But the Dance of the Dragons is far from over. Aemond Targaryen and Criston Cole are still at large, with various splinter factions breaking out. How will Aemond and Criston react once they realized that moments after retaking Harrenhal that Daemon and Aeonar tricked them and attacked their leadership? Let the speculation commence as the next chapter will be on their reactions!
C.E.W: Aeonar Targaryen has now captured Beatrice Peake, Helaena, Jaehaera, Unwin Peake and Larys Strong. Aegon the Elder however remains free, Aemond Targaryen, Criston Cole, Hugh Hammer and Ulf White are still at large, given time and chance they will continue to oppose Aeonar Targaryen. As long as Aemond and Vhagar stay alive, the Caltrops still remain a significant threat to the Blacks. The Lannisters and the Baratheons are still in rebellion against the Iron Throne. Not for long for the Lannisters, I'm sure once the Ironborn attack and they hear about the capture of majority of the Caltrops' leadership.
There is also the death of Dreamfyre, with the death of another one of their dragons, the Caltrops have only Vhagar left. The greatest weapon that Caltrops have against the Blacks is the dragon riders on their side. Without them, they have no hope of victory. All they have left now is Vhagar, who is the eldest, and largest of the dragons, but time and again have proven that she is at a disadvantage against larger number of dragons which was proven the Caltrops coup attempt, and Rook's Rest.
I've already told about the reactions of Aemond and Criston Cole in the previous chapter. Cole wanting to regroup with a friendly army, while Aemond uses Vhagar to burn nearby Black loyalists.
Won't be long before the Ironborn hit the Westerlands, if Aemma and the Black invading force hear of this, perhaps they'll hold off and instead open negotiations with Lady Regent Johanna Lannister. Jaehaerys and Aemma might meet with her. Jaehaerys is known to be fair, and Aemma can appeal as a mother to her own child, wanting the war to end, and her child to live well same as Johanna. It might be best if Aeonar is not present at meeting with her, forgiveness and reconciliation were never really his strong suits, even before Daeron died.
Questions:
I know Aeonar will torture Beatrice, Unwin and Larys, but what about Helaena and Jaehaera? I'm sure Alicent will want to treat them formally.
—I'm sure he'll keep them prisoner for the rest of their lives.
How will Aeonar's children react when they hear about the capture? Will they're be a bit of... mixed feelings?
—Mixed
What happened to Tyland Lannister, he was not seen or mentioned in the capture?
—He was among those captured
With majority of the Caltrop leadership captured, won't the Caltrops start considering surrender? Especially in the Reach, the Caltrop loyalists there have no leader, and Aemond is in the Riverlands. Not to mention anther Caltrop dragon Dreamfyre is dead.
—Once they hear about it, those who declared for the Caltrops would undoubtedly surrender one by one
How will Borros Baratheon react to the capture?
—He'll be beside himself with disbelief
XavierWright: Oh god, Aeonar taking his enemies away to torture them. I hate to ask this, but I'm too curious. Will Aeonar torturing the Caltrops... er, 'arouse' him the say way it did the mad king when he burnt his enemies?
If the answer to my question is yes, then that holds some disturbing implications.
—No, not 'arouse' him. No, Aeonar wants them to suffer in an excrutiatingly painful manner.
Nerokyi: Aeonar is so cool. But I hope he does recover and as a realization of what he is doing is wrong.
randomdude24: Gotta say while Aeonar's mind might be questionable, his skills as a fighter are not. Took down almost the entire Kingsguard with little effort. While they weren't the most skilled of fighters and knights, it does show how skilled and dangerous Aeonar is and how unskilled the Caltrops fighters are.
I am surprised Aeonar didn't just kill everyone except Beatrice, while showing mercy does work. People like Unwin and Larys are too dangerous alive, too ambitious.
Questions,
Did Larys smuggle Aegon out of Starpike? I can't imagine if Aegon goes to dragonstone or anywhere he'll find many allies.
—Apparently he did it without Beatrice noticing until it was too late.
Is Aeonar planning to put the Caltrops on trial in King's Landing? If so, why? Seems a bit out of character given how vengeful he's become.
—No, he plans to torture them brutally.
When will Hugh and Ulf take action? They are the wildcards in this whole war, especially if they are gathering allies
—I plan to bring them in