Chapter 3: A Knight's Judgment
Bonifer Hasty's Perspective: In the Black Cells
I sat in the dim, suffocating confines of the black cells beneath the Red Keep. The cold, damp stone walls seemed to press in around me with every passing hour of my confinement. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - righteous anger at the circumstances that led me to strike Prince Aerys, regret over the consequences of my actions, yet also a sense of resigned acceptance over my fate.
I had done my sworn duty that fateful night, defending Princess Rhaella's honor by confronting the drunken and irrational Aerys. But in the act of shielding my charge from the prince's wrath, I had crossed a line, raising steel against the heir to the Iron Throne itself. An act born of righteous indignation and protective instinct, yet one that could never go unpunished in the harsh reality of the royal court.
Prince Jaehaerys's decision to have me imprisoned weighed heavily on my conscience. I understood the cruel necessity of maintaining a stern face, of upholding the crown's authority in the wake of such a brazen attack on one of its scions. To simply let my transgression go unpunished would be seen as wanton weakness unbecoming of a future king.
And yet, that logical part of my mind could not quell the twinge of bitter resentment that snaked through my gut. I had acted out of love and devotion for Rhaella, giving everything of myself to protect her from harm at the hands of her own kin. Now I found myself condemned to rot in these black cells, branded a criminal in the eyes of the court for carrying out my sworn duty.
But even in my darkest, most despairing moments huddled alone on the damp floor, a sense of pride burned bright within my chest. I had defended Rhaella's honor to the last, upholding my sacred oath despite the cost. Though I languished in this wretched cell, my resolve remained unbroken, my loyalty to my charge unwavering.
When the footsteps began echoing down the corridor outside my cell, I paid them little mind at first. Guards prowled the dungeons with some regularity, their bootsteps an intermittent reminder of my grim present circumstances. But these tread patterns felt... different, more purposeful than the usual patrols.
The sudden rattle of keys and the shriek of un-oiled hinges made me tense, bracing for whatever new misery awaited as the guard threw open my cell door with a sneer.
"Get up," the loutish man barked. "Prince Aerys wants to see you."
I stared back in stunned disbelief. Surely my ears had finally begun playing tricks on me after so many endless days of solitary torment. How could Aerys, the very man I struck down in a life-threatening blow, still draw breath let alone summon me? The severity of the prince's injuries and the deluge of blood should have proved fatal by all rights. Indeed, the hushed murmurs from even the Red Keep's most stoic servants proclaimed as much before I was dragged away to my grim cell.
"Just get it over with," I rasped at last, my voice cracked by disuse and resignation. I expected to be led to my overdue execution without further preamble, the realm's self-styled justice at last being rendered for my transgression against the crown prince.
The guard did not reply, only sneering again and motioning me brusquely to follow with a curt jerk of his head. With no choice remaining to me, I pushed myself to my feet and fell into step behind my escorting jailer.
We made our way through the winding, torch-lit maze of the castle's dungeon corridors in tense silence. I tried not to dwell too deeply on what fresh torments might await me at this supposed audience with Aerys. I could scarcely credit that the prince yet lived at all... unless this elaborate setup merely preceded my final, no-doubt gruesome punishment.
My mind raced over the potential eventualities - from a vengeful, irreparably-maimed Aerys determined to make a protracted example of his attacker, to a more grimly pragmatic encounter borne of necessity. Perhaps the prince only sought to extract a final, unbowed confession before passing his ultimate sentence.
At last, we ascended a tight spiral staircase and passed through a heavily-reinforced door, leaving the dungeons behind and entering the castle proper. The finest tapestries and plush carpets now lined the walls and floors, a jarring contrast to the bleak squalor I had been consigned to.
Two stern-faced guards in the pristine snow-white cloaks of the Kingsguard watched our approach with impassive eyes. As the jailer knocked once on an ornately carved wooden door, I instinctively straightened my slumped shoulders as much as I could muster. Even in chains and rags, I determined to face whatever lay ahead with at least a vestige of knightly dignity.
The rap of the jailer's knuckles against the thick wood seemed to reverberate through the corridor like the gavel of some great judge. After a pregnant pause, a muffled voice bade us enter from within.
I caught my breath as the double doors swung open to reveal a lavishly appointed chamber - and there, in its center, stood Prince Aerys himself. My eyes widened as they raked over the prince, witnessing the expert needlework of the maesters in the clean linen wrappings encircling Aerys's head and brow where my grievous blow had landed.
I drank in the sight greedily, scarcely able to believe this shade still walked the earth when so many, including myself, were certain he had been dealt a killing stroke that night. For several tense heartbeats, all within the chamber remained utterly silent in the wake of my entrance.
-I knelt in the center of the lavish royal chamber, my shoulders slumped under the weight of my shackles and the grim expectation of whatever fate awaited me. My eyes slowly traced over the assembled Targaryen royals arrayed before me - Prince Jaehaerys and Princess Shaera, Aerys's parents, regarded me with twin expressions of stern solemnity. While the wizened yet formidable figures of King Aegon V and his queen, Betha Blackwood, looked on with furrowed brows.
It was Shaera who broke the heavy silence first, her lovely features contorted into a rictus of fury as she pinned me with an accusatory glare.
"This criminal dared raise steel against my firstborn son!" she hissed, hatred dripping from every venomous syllable as a slender finger stabbed in my direction. "He should be stripped of manhood and life alike for such an unforgivable act against the heir to the Iron Throne!"
I flinched despite myself at her vehement condemnation, surely validating every punishment to follow. But then Jaehaerys placed a calming hand on his wife's shoulder, his deep voice thick with pragmatic reason.
"Peace, my love. Ser Bonifer's actions were indeed rash and unforgivable...yet they were not entirely without provocation from Aerys's own hand on that fateful night."
Shaera's head whipped around at that, her dark eyes blazing with disbelief and outrage. "You cannot mean to excuse this butcher's crimes against our child, Jaehaerys?!"
But before she could object further, King Aegon raised a withered yet imperious hand, his craggy features inscrutable.
"Let us hear judgment directly from the one most grievously wronged," the king proclaimed in a reedy baritone that brooked no argument. "This matter above all strikes at the heart of our dynasty's lineage. Prince Aerys shall determine what penance is owed."
All eyes turned toward the still, linen-swathed figure standing amidst the gathering's center. Despite the clear evidence of his recent brutalization, an unmistakable air of renewed vigor and purpose emanated from the prince. He seemed to draw himself up to his full height, every inch the embodiment of Targaryen majesty his birthright demanded.
When Aerys finally spoke, his words carried a weight that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle with instinctive trepidation.
"You speak true wisdom, Grandfather," he rasped, his voice edged with the faintest hint of lingering pain yet undeniably authoritative. "This matter rests solely upon my judgment, for I am the soul most aggrieved on the eve of my ascension to the Iron Throne."
He turned that piercing, amethyst stare upon me then, and I felt frozen beneath it like a condemned man facing the Stranger's icy caress. Despite my determination to maintain composure in these likely final moments, Aerys's intensity made me want to shrink away.
"Ser Bonifer Hasty," he intoned with resonant solemnity. "You struck me down in a grievous lapse of violence, one that very nearly ended the life of your future king before his reign could truly begin. For such a crime, many would demand the severest punishments - castration, a traitor's death, and the utter ruination of your family's honor."
I tensed despite myself, feeling the weight of Aerys's words like a millstone around my neck. My mouth went dry as visions of those same brutal punishments flashed through my mind - Would he command me be shorn of manhood? Executed by grotesque methods like being torn apart by horses? My family's modest lands and titles stripped away in disgrace.
Shaera seemed to swell with vindicated approval at her son's condemnation, nodding curtly. Jaehaerys watched on impassively, giving no outward sign of the judgment he felt appropriate. As for the king and queen, both studied me with inscrutable masks of regal contemplation, as if weighing my soul against a scale only they could perceive.
After letting his words hang in the heavy air for a long moment, Aerys continued in a tone edged with surprising pensiveness.
"And yet...I find I cannot, in good conscience, condemn you to quite so harsh a sentence as those voices would demand, Ser Bonifer. For on the night our blades clashed with such disastrous results, my own actions were equally unbecoming of a man of my station and honor."
A confused murmur went up around the room at the prince's words, with Shaera looking particularly gob smacked.
"What madness is this?" she sputtered, shooting an incredulous glance toward Aerys. "He sought to slay the heir to the realm itself! Would you see his treachery go unpunished entirely, my son?"
Jaehaerys placed a placating hand on the small of her back, leaning in to murmur something in hushed tones that I could not make out. His words seemed to take the edge off Shaera's indignation, though she still regarded her son with obvious bewilderment.
As for Aerys, he did not so much as blink at his mother's outburst. When he spoke again, his voice remained measured yet carried undeniable conviction.
"You need not fear a miscarriage of judgment, Mother," he said with a respectful nod. "I have no intention of allowing Ser Bonifer's crimes to go unanswered. But neither can I disregard the circumstances that led us to this fateful crossroads."
Those intense purple eyes bored into me once more, and I found myself struck by the apparent wisdom burning within their depths despite Aerys's relatively few years.
"I allowed petty jealousy and the indulgence of drink to cloud my judgment that night. I accosted the man sworn to be my sister's protector, and very nearly instigated a tragedy that would have extinguished the Targaryen dynasty's line of succession. It was only Ser Bonifer's knightly restraint that prevented him from dealing a death blow in the throes of our confrontation, despite the hot-blooded provocation."
Stunned silence rippled out from the prince's words. I could scarcely believe he seemed to be shouldering a share of culpability for our clash, rather than placing the entirety of blame upon me as any other lord would have. Shaera and Jaehaerys alike appeared taken aback, trading bewildered looks.
As for the king and queen...Aegon V observed his grandson with an air of solemn approval while Betha Blackwood studied Aerys with what seemed to be naked fascination, as if seeing him imbued with new understanding for the first time.
Aerys allowed the weight of his pronouncement to linger for a heartbeat before continuing in that same rasped yet authoritative tone.
"You crossed a line that cannot go unanswered when you raised your blade against my person, Ser Bonifer. No matter your motivations or the justifiable outrage driving your hand that night, such violence against your future king is an act that the realm cannot allow to pass without significant consequence."
I felt my heart plummet at those ominous words, despite the prince's acknowledgment of the circumstances that sparked our calamitous duel. Surely exile or an appallingly brutal death sentence loomed for me even after Aerys's uncharacteristic show of empathy and reason.
But then he spoke his judgment, and once again I found my expectations confounded utterly.
"Therefore, you shall be granted a choice of contrition and penance. Either you face permanent exile from the Seven Kingdoms, stripped of your family's lands and minor titles to wander in desolation..." A spike of dismay lanced through me at the prospect of being severed from Rhaella forever, consigned to a lifetime of wandering exile for the sake of my actions.
"Or you may take the uncompromising path of the Night's Watch, forsaking all prior holdings and devoting your remaining years to defending the realms of men from the dangers lurking beyond the Wall," Aerys concluded, his imperial stare boring into me with unmistakable solemnity. "The choice is yours, Bonifer Hasty. But the justice of the crown, and the laws of our realm, must be satisfied this day."
I could scarcely breathe as the magnitude of Aerys's words sank in. He extended me a clemency I could never have fathomed from any other sovereign lord. Both paths - exile or the Night's Watch - represented mercy in their own way. Exile spared my life, though I would be condemned to a harsh, wandering existence. The Night's Watch allowed me to retain my calling as a sworn brother, but under brutal conditions at the Wall.
For a long moment, I could only kneel there stunned into silence as the Targaryen royals reacted around me. Shaera looked appalled, while Jaehaerys grudgingly accepted his son's wisdom. The king and queen regarded Aerys with approval and newfound respect, as if he had truly become the benevolent monarch they hoped for.
At last, I rasped out, "You show mercy beyond what I could have hoped, my prince. After my unforgivable violence, I am unworthy."
Aerys studied me solemnly. "You are not unworthy, Ser Bonifer. Merely a man who lost restraint in an instant, not unlike my own arrogance that sparked this. You have been an honorable, loyal knight sworn to protect."
His words loosened the knot of self-condemnation within me. Aerys continued, "I cannot condemn you as a traitor when you erred upholding your deepest convictions - convictions I provoked through my unbecoming actions."
Silence fell as he pronounced my fate. "You shall be exiled from the Seven Kingdoms, stripped of lands and titles, to wander in desolation. This judgment pains me, but the crown's justice must be satisfied."
Exile...to be severed from Rhaella forever. A spike of dismay lanced through me, but I could not argue against this ultimate mercy. I gave a solemn nod of acceptance.
As the guards came to lead me away, I asked for one final indulgence - a moment's farewell with Princess Rhaella in the corridor outside. Aerys granted it with a somber nod.
Rhaella awaited just beyond the chamber doors; her beautiful features etched with sadness. As soon as the doors closed, shutting us off from her family, she rushed into my embrace. We held each other tightly, our tears intermingling.
"This is a cruelty I could never have wished upon you, my dearest protector," Rhaella whispered, her voice thick. "You have given up everything for me..."
"And I would give it up a thousand times over," I replied hoarsely. "Your honor is what has ever guided my footsteps. Please, take heart that I go on living, despite my exile. It is a mercy I could scarcely have prayed for."
Rhaella pulled back, cupping my face in her soft hands as her eyes shined with fresh tears. "You have been more than my shield, Bonifer. You have been the other half of my very soul." Her gaze turned pleading. "Take me with you, I beg of you. We could leave all this behind - runaway together and be truly happy."
My heart twisted at her desperate entreaty. A part of me, the selfish part, longed to sweep her up and make good on her wish. To steal away like thieves in the night and spend the rest of our days in each other's arms, free from the burdens of court life.
But I knew such fantasies were little more than sweet delusions. She was a princess, destined to become queen one day. And I was a knight, bound by oaths of fealty that could never be abandoned, no matter how alluring the alternative.
Gently, I took her hands in mine, pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles. "You know we can never truly escape who we are, my own," I said heavily. "You are the life's blood of your family's noble dynasty. To forsake that would only condemn us to lives as hunted exiles until our dying days."
Tears streamed freely down Rhaella's cheeks as she absorbed the brutal truth in my words. For a moment, I contemplated giving in to her pleas, if only to stay wrapped in this perfect, painfully fleeting moment forever.
But I could not be so selfish as to deny her the destiny she was born to - no matter how high the personal cost to us both.
"No matter where I go or what becomes of me, I will love you until my last breath," I vowed fervently, pulling her close once more. "But we are two halves of a diverging whole now, my sun and stars. Our paths must be separate before they can converge into a new dawn."
We held each other's gazes for a long moment, drinking in this final memory to sustain us through the desolate years ahead. At last, I placed one final reverent kiss upon her brow.
"Live justly and nobly, my princess," I murmured. "That will be protection enough in my stead."
With that, I turned and followed the guards away, leaving the Red Keep and Rhaella behind - cast into a life of desolate exile, yet granted the ultimate mercy of living. My footsteps felt lead-heavy, but also light with the breathtaking weight of the second chance I had been given.
Though it rent my very soul to walk away from Rhaella, I took solace in knowing she would persevere without me. Her spirit was forged of dragon fire itself - brilliant, indomitable, destined for greatness. While our reunion may be delayed, even torn apart, our two dancing flames would one day be rejoined as an unstoppable force.
As I passed through the outer courtyard and the massive double portcullis was raised before me, I did not look back. I set my face forward toward an unknown horizon, still cloaked in resolution despite the daunting road ahead. For I had looked into the abyss of oblivion and been spared, given benediction to atone and find new purpose.
"Ser Bonifer."
The familiar voice caused me to turn. There stood Prince Aerys, his silver hair shining in the morning light. His expression was somber, but not unkind as our eyes met.
"Your Grace," I replied with a deferential nod.
Aerys held up a hand. "There is no need for such courtesies between us now, good ser. Not after..." He trailed off, seeming to search for the right words.
I tensed, expecting a final rebuke or condemnation. But when Aerys spoke again, his tone was almost gentle.
"I know you love her. My sister."
My shoulders sagged as the undeniable truth was laid bare. Of course, he knew - he had likely known all along of the forbidden bond between Rhaella and me.
To his credit, Aerys did not gloat or pour salt in the wound. "I take no pleasure in separating two people whose affections run so deep," he continued solemnly. "But you know as well as I that our personal desires must bend to the greater duty, we are both bound to."
I could only nod stiffly, grief and resolution warring within me. Aerys regarded me pensively for a moment more.
"Live long and prosper in your exile, Ser Bonifer," he said at last. "Those were the words of benediction my tutors imparted."
I furrowed my brow at the unfamiliar phrase, drawing a small smile from the prince.
"It is a Valyrian farewell," he explained. "Wishing the recipient a journey of continued life and the hope that their path will lead to fulfillment and prosperity, whatever form that may take."
The simple words were profound in their succinct power. I inclined my head to Aerys once more.
"I... thank you, Your Grace. Those words shall sustain me in the trials ahead."
A look of understanding passed between us then - two men bound inexorably by brutal necessity, yet still haunted by the yearnings of the heart. Aerys clapped me lightly on the shoulder.
"Safe travels, good ser. Until our separate roads happen to converge once more."
With that, the prince stepped back, allowing the guards to finally escort me through the lowered portcullis and into the bustling streets beyond. As I passed through those massive gates and out of the only life I had ever known, I felt something loosen within me.
My future was little more than a great blank expanse of uncertainty, fraught with peril and hardship at every turn. And yet...Aerys's words had kindled an ember of hope in my heart. Life may forever be sundered from my other half in Rhaella. But it was not a life sentence to mere existence, my spirit destined to wither away in perpetual exile.
No, I could yet find new purpose on the long road ahead. New prosperity, new fulfillment - if I only kept my resolve kindled and faith in those sustaining words seared into my very being.
With that fragile but brilliant ember glowing in my heart, I pressed on into the great unknown before me. One step at a time on a journey I could scarcely yet fathom, but knowing deep within that it held some greater destiny in store beyond mere survival.
Until our separate roads happened to converge once more, I would walk this lonesome path with the fire of Aerys's parting wish blazing defiantly in my soul.
Later, in a private study adjoining the royal apartments, King Aegon V sat in brooding silence across from his beloved wife, Queen Betha Blackwood. The day's events had left the aging monarchs with a mix of pride and lingering concern over their grandson Aerys's shocking handling of Ser Bonifer Hasty's attack.
At last, Aegon broke the pensive silence with a weary sigh, raking a hand through his silvered hair. "I must admit, I did not expect Aerys to accept full responsibility and exile Ser Bonifer so decisively," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying equal measures of surprise and approval.
Betha nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face. "He showed remarkable constancy and judgment in that audience chamber. I had...steeled myself for another of his infamous rages when faced with such an egregious act."
Aerys's shift in demeanor following the blow to his head had been nothing short of astonishing. Rather than lashing out, he had remained calm and clear-headed, condemned Ser Bonifer's actions, but also acknowledged his own arrogance and lapses had indirectly precipitated the situation. It was a reaction utterly at odds with the brash, entitled prince whose vicious temper and hedonistic whims had become a source of constant worry for the aging king and queen in recent years.
"Perhaps this incident was the sobering wake-up call our grandson needed," Aegon mused, staring almost unseeingly into the roaring hearth fire. "To realize he must temper his...indulgences and impulsivity if he wishes to become a truly great ruler."
Memories flashed unbidden through his mind of all the times Aerys had lashed out with disproportionate rage or retreated into self-indulgent debauchery in the wake of some perceived slight or disappointment. Too many evenings marred by Aerys berating servants until he worked himself into an incoherent frenzy. Too many mornings spent rousing his hung-over grandson from whatever winesink or brothel he had stumbled into the night before. With a worried frown, the king recalled the most recent of such incidents - a vicious tantrum over a dish being slightly too peppery wherein Aerys had upended an entire feast and cruelly berated the blushing young cook until she fled in tears.
Betha reached across to give his hand a comforting squeeze, pulling Aegon from his troubling recollections. "We had feared this attack may have addled his senses permanently," she said soothingly. "But if anything, Aerys seems more lucid and determined than ever before."
A glimmer of hope shone in Aegon's eyes as he considered his wife's words. As monarchs, they understood the importance of prudent lines of succession to ensure the stability of the realm. But as grandparents, they took no joy in considering other potential heirs over their beloved Aerys, reckless and hot-tempered though he may be. They had spent decades tutoring the boy in statecraft and leadership while trying to guide him from his most self-destructive impulses. To have to one day disavow him as heir after all that...it was an almost unthinkable scenario for the devoted couple.
"You may be right, my sun," he said, shifting to twine his fingers through hers and bring her knuckles to his lips in a tender kiss. "Perhaps we are finally witnessing the boy put away childish whims and mature into the man - and king - he was born to become."
Betha's warm smile was brighter than the day's first rays breaking over Blackwater Bay. She brought his twined hands to her lips, pressing a loving kiss to his calloused knuckles. In that tender moment, the strains and worries of the day seemed to melt away under the comforting balm of their enduring love.
"Have faith, my love," she replied, eyes shining with a mother's eternal optimism for her child's future, no matter how wayward they may stray. "Our grandson has revealed hitherto unseen strength and wisdom in the face of adversity. We need only continue guiding him with our counsel and love. In time, the boy who rages so furiously against any frustration or disappointment will become a man tempered by life's inevitable hardships and pains."
Aegon felt his burdens lift somewhat at his wife's reassuring words and loving touch. For too long, Aerys's unpredictable rages and self-indulgences had cast grave doubts over his fitness for the throne. Had today's events played out as Aegon originally feared, he may well have been forced to take the sorrowful step of officially naming another heir to ensure the stability of the realm.
But there was no denying the pride and profound sense of relief that washed over the old king as he recalled how Aerys had risen to meet the unthinkable challenge of the day with poise, accountability, and wisdom beyond his years.
"You know I have always tried to be an impartial, pragmatic king," Aegon said, giving voice to the thoughts weighing on his mind. "Ever considering what is best for the greater realm before indulging private affections or sentiments."
He paused, mouth twisting wryly as he recalled his infamous impassive demeanor earning him the unwanted moniker 'Aegon the Unlikely' during his younger days. "And yet, I cannot deny feeling immense pride over Aerys's handling of this ugly incident. Not just as his king, but as his grandsire."
Betha's warm chuckle was like a soothing tonic against the lingering anxieties of the day. She knew better than most the tremendous burden of having to constantly subjugate one's personal wants and loves beneath the unyielding scales of duty and obligation to the realm. It was the greatest personal sacrifice any monarch was called to make - and one she and Aegon had struggled with since the day they had taken up their crowns so many decades ago.
"Is that not the greatest challenge for any monarch - to balance duty to the realm with the yearnings of the heart?" She cradled his weathered cheek in her palm, her gaze shining with deep understanding and shared experience. "We are not solely sovereigns, but parents, grandparents, lovers bound by the selfsame bonds as any common family. To ask someone to wholly sacrifice those most fundamental parts of themselves upon taking the crown...it is a cruelty unto itself."
Slowly, Aegon turned his head to brush his lips against her palm, feeling the familiar comfort of her touch seep into his very bones. She was right, as always - his duties were multifold, not confined solely to issuing decrees and maintaining stability and peace in the realm. He was the Protector of the Realm, yes, but also a man with a mortal's capacity for love, fear, and hope just like any other. To ask him to wholly extinguish those deeper wellsprings of the heart upon donning the crown...no wonder they called him the 'Unlikely.' Truly setting aside those deepest parts of oneself was one of the strongest tests of any ruler.
"I will admit, I had...braced myself to potentially need to reconsider the lines of succession in light of this incident," he confessed heavily, images of various nephews and cousins flitting through his head as he considered viable alternatives to Aerys. "A part of me could not help steeling my heart against being forced to disavow Aerys as heir in the gravest of scenarios."
Betha's expression was a mixture of sorrow and understanding, for she knew all too well the weight of such momentous choices. She knew Aegon would be forced to set aside all personal affection for their grandson if he proved either too unstable or too cruel to be entrusted with the great responsibility of the crown. Her thumb caressed his weathered cheek as she held his gaze steadily, offering the gentle comfort only a lifetime of true love and partnership could provide.
"And now?" she asked gently, eternal wellspring of wisdom in her warm eyes. "What does your heart tell you after witnessing our grandson's strength first-hand today?"
Aegon was silent for a long moment, feeling the weight of his abiding love for Aerys warring with his pragmatic need to ensure a stable future for the realm no matter the personal cost. Betha and their children were the great joys of his life, yes, but the realm was his final true mistress, harsh and unforgiving as she was. He could not allow private hopes or familial ties to blind his judgment when it came to the welfare of the people at large.
At last, he exhaled a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he felt his heart and mind aligning once more on the path forward.
"Now, I dare to hope that our faith and counsel over these many years has not been in vain," he replied, covering Betha's hand with his own calloused one. "That the seeds we planted in Aerys decades ago have finally begun to take root and bloom into the makings of a truly great ruler."
A look of profound understanding and shared hope passed between husband and wife, banishing the last vestiges of doubt and worry like a warm spring breeze parting the winter chill. All the years of painstaking tutoring, of measured discipline combined with affection, of trying to impart the wisdom it took to reliably subdue one's basest impulses - it had been an effort stretching across Aerys's entire life. On too many occasions, it had seemed those lessons on restraint and nobility were falling on deaf ears, only for the brash prince to later emerge from his latest outburst chastened and remorseful once more.
But this...this was different. This was no mere fleeting moment of regret before slipping back into self-indulgent rages. No, the calm, measured accountability Aerys had demonstrated in the face of such an unthinkable attack hinted at deeper awakenings stirring within the troubled man's psyche. For the first time, Aegon felt they were witnessing the roots of true sovereignty taking hold in their grandson's spirit.
United once more in their path forward, the king and queen turned their attentions back to the waiting affairs and duties of the realm, comforted by the knowledge that even the most trying trials could ultimately bring about profound positive change when met with wisdom, courage, and most preciously - love. A calm determination settled over Aegon, for if their life's work in shaping Aerys had finally started to bear fruit, then his legacy as King Protector could be complete.
He need only remain steadfast in guiding his grandson through whatever inevitable storms still lay ahead with a father's firm but loving hand. There would doubtlessly be more transgressions, more explosive outbursts pushing the limits of Aegon's resolve. But today had shown there was a bedrock of responsibility and poise within the young man that could be solidified into the makings of a great ruler.
Yes, there would be stumbles along the way, Aegon knew. Hot-blooded youths raised to the finer vices of the royal life rarely took to the mantle of leadership without a few harsh lessons first. Even the greatest of kings had faced harsh wake-up calls in their youth that forced them to confront their flaws before truly growing into enlightened rulers. Mayhaps today's incident would play a similar catalytic role for Aerys, finally allowing the seeds of wisdom to take root within him on his path to worthy kingship.
A reminiscent smile ghosted across Aegon's lips as he gazed into the crackling flames. He knew well the hot surges of unchecked passion and hubris that could run so wild when blessed with youth, vigor, and the expectations of rulership from an early age. His own days as a reckless prince wandering the streets of King's Landing in disguise came back to him in bittersweet flashes of memory. Those had been some of the happiest, most formative days of his life - and also the closest he'd ever come to losing his very life on the way to earning the crown.
He thought of Betha, lovely and dutiful as ever at his side running the kingdom. A tendril of warmth bloomed in his chest seeing the understated pride shining in her eyes as they discussed their grandson's fortitude that day. He knew she worried greatly over Aerys's penchant for excess, but he also knew she had never lost faith that they could ultimately guide the boy to worthy manhood.
A small, mischievous grin tugged at the corner of Aegon's mouth. It would not do to let the moment pass completely solemnly. "You know, my sun," he rumbled in a tone both conspiratorial and lightly teasing, "If I were a less charitable man, I may start to wonder if you did not somehow arrange this entire scenario to finally take the wildfire to our grandson."
Betha looked at him aghast for a moment before dissolving into rich peals of laughter, swatting his arm in mock chiding even as her eyes danced with mirth. "Oh, you terrible, cynical man!" she mock-scolded through her laughter. "I'll have you know I place myself above such devious manipulations. Unlike certain roguish princes wandering out to all hours in roughspun disguises during their wayward youths." She arched one delicately teasing eyebrow at him.
"You wound me, wife!" Aegon exclaimed with exaggerated indignance, unable to keep his own bark of laughter from escaping. "To think I would stain your honor by accusing you of spinning such an intricate web of chaos and subterfuge!"
Betha snorted indelicately - a most unqueenly sound that never failed to make Aegon grin like a lovestruck adolescent all over again. "It was your idea to train that bumbling Bonifer oaf as a knight to begin with," she retorted impishly. "I'd say the intrigue was already well afoot before I arrived on the scene."
-Chuckling, Aegon pulled his beloved wife close, reveling in her familiar warmth and playful spirit even after all these decades together. "You've found me out, my devious queen," he rumbled in a tone laced with theatrical resignation. "I am but a helpless pawn in your grand schemes to bring our wayward grandson to heel through increasingly elaborate gambits."
Betha laughed again, the rich, free sound like music to the aging king's ears. Too few moments of true levity presented themselves in their world of duty and intrigue. He pulled her fully into his lap, relishing her closeness and the way her eyes still sparkled with that impish light that had so enraptured him during their youth.
"Well then, your Grace," she played along airily, "since you have seen through my cunning manipulations, I suppose I must share the true masterstroke I have planned next." She leaned in conspiratorially, as if to impart some great secret.
Obligingly, Aegon bent his head until their brows were nearly touching, a slow smile spreading across his weathered features. By the Seven, but he loved this woman's mischievous spirit. Even now, when the crushing burdens of rule would threaten to overwhelm, she always found a way to rekindle that bright, joyous spark of life within him.
"Do go on, my love," he murmured indulgently. "I am most intrigued to learn what dastardly depths your scheming mind could possibly still con-"
The rest of his playful jape was cut off as Betha suddenly surged forward to capture his lips in a deep, smoldering kiss. For an eternal moment, there were no more weighty matters of state or familial concerns - just the primal connection of two souls joined in passion, as vibrant and elemental as their very first fumbling dalliances so many years ago.
When at last they broke apart, both were slightly flushed and breathing heavier, lost in the depths of each other's eyes. Aegon felt much of the day's fatigue seeming to melt from his bones, replace by a comforting warmth and contentment. His brow furrowed quizzically at his wife.
"Was that your grand stratagem, my sun?" he asked with an arched brow, idly tracing his fingers through her soft tresses. "To simply seduce me into forgetting this entire line of questioning?"
Betha smirked and shrugged unrepentantly. "What can I say?" she purred, leaning into trail feather-light kisses along the line of his jaw. "Sometimes a woman prefers to use the... simpler weapons in her arsenal to achieve her aims."
A low chuckle rumbled from Aegon's chest as he pulled her flush against him once more, devouring the sultry look in her eyes. "Well played, my wicked seductress," he growled in faux-reproach. "You have robbed me of any further coherent thoughts for the eve."
"Then my scheme was an unqualified success," Betha declared smugly before capturing his lips again in a heated kiss that quickly deepened into rapturous abandon.
In that moment, any lingering worries or uncertainties over Aerys and the path ahead were banished from the king's mind. He surrendered fully to the boundless love and desire that somehow still burned as vibrantly between himself and his queen as it had that very first time so many moons ago. On the morrow, there would be more council meetings, more decrees, more backhanded games of thrones to be played.
But tonight, in the privacy of their chambers, Aegon and Betha were simply man and wife, drowning in the undying passion that had first inflamed their souls upon meeting all those years ago in the woods outside Raventree Hall. A passion that had seen them through war and hardship, triumph and heartbreak unlike any other to ultimately claim their legacies as one of the greatest monarchs in living history.
I watched Rhaella kneel before the heart tree, her silver-blonde hair shining like pale fire in the fading sunset light. An ache settled in my chest as I studied her delicate yet regal profile, so reminiscent of Regan and yet possessed of a gravity far beyond my former girlfriend's years.
Unbidden, flashes of the tales I had read in the novels of this world flickered through my mind. Tales of how Rhaella would suffer greatly at the hands of her own husband and brother, Aerys, in the years to come. The once-bright flame of her spirit clearly dimming under the weight of his escalating cruelties and madness.
I felt a surge of protective anger towards my future-self on Rhaella's behalf. How could I - he - allow such an atrocity to unfold? To take this vibrant, lionhearted young woman and systematically break her until just staying alive became an act of harrowing defiance?
But even as I raged inwardly, a pragmatic voice whispered that I did not yet fully comprehend the pressures and demons that could drive even a decent man to terrible acts over decades of rule. While I may currently balk at the notion of mistreating Rhaella so callously, years of paranoia, threat, and the corruptive influences of absolute power could potentially blacken any man's soul in time.
Which was precisely why I knew I could not afford to alienate Rhaella now, when her spirit still burned brilliant and unshakably loyal. If I had any hope of preventing the trageties that once played out between her and my other self, I would need her as a steadying force and partner in the turbulent years ahead.
Her distress over Bonifer's exile only underscored how precious few allies she was likely to have as future queen. The knight had clearly been a source of strength and affection to the young princess - a light in the ever-dimming world that awaited her once we cemented our marriage ties.
I could not, in good conscience, allow her to navigate the viper's nest of the royal court completely alone and bereft of all succor. Even if it meant making amends for my callous behavior regarding Bonifer and our betrothal to start building some lingering trust between us.
Clearing my throat, I forced my meandering thoughts to coalesce as I slowly approached Rhaella in the godswood's hushed tranquility. No matter how fleeting her resemblances to Regan, I knew this young woman before me was her own fierce, brilliant spirit first and foremost. One I would need to nurture and protect from the darkest paths, both without and insidiously festering within my own soul over the years.
"The godswood seems particularly tranquil on this fine day, does it not, sweet sister?" I ventured, attempting to make meaningless small talk as Rhaella knelt before the gnarled pale trunk of the ancient heart tree. She turned to face me then, and I was once again struck by the anguish writ plainly across her delicate features. The rims of her eyes were tinged with red, no doubt from grieving the loss of her beloved Bonifer even days after his exile. I felt a pang of remorse lance through me at her obvious suffering. Though I had shown great leniency in only exiling Bonifer instead of having him executed, it was clear the matter had deeply wounded my sweet sister's heart.
"Please, Rhaella," I began again, dropping to one knee beside her on the grassy flatland surrounding the tree's gnarled roots. "You know it pained me greatly to be forced into such an intolerable position regarding your knight." She favored me with a look of such sorrow that it very nearly robbed me of my next breath.
"Did it truly pain you so, sweet brother?" she asked in a tone edged by the faintest bitterness. "You are the one who now remains, free to ascend to the power and privilege of the Iron Throne. Meanwhile, my heart's truest love must now wander in permanent exile from my side." I reached out instinctively and clasped her hand in both of mine, desperate to convey the depths of my regret and affection through touch if not mere words.
"You must not think me some black-hearted monster, Rhaella," I said intently. "Had I not acted with at least a bend towards leniency and practicality, it could have undone us completely in the eyes of the realm and our own people!" Her brow furrowed slightly in consternation over my words, so I pressed on to make my reasoning plain while I had her ear.
"Think on it, sweet sister—what message would it have sent to all the Seven Kingdoms if I simply turned a blind eye towards Bonifer's assault, or treated it as some mere trifling mistake to be easily pardoned?" Rhaella's eyes widened slightly as the implication became clear, yet she remained silent as I continued feverishly. "They would have seen me as a weak, doddering fool unfit for the burdens of kingship if I failed to uphold even the most basic standards of conduct and fealty upon my own household guard!"
I gave a mirthless bark of laughter then, squeezing her hands tighter. "Why, can you even imagine the grumblings from dissident lords and landed knights if it became known their future king could be assaulted with impunity under his own roof? That the royal person was to be treated as some mere jape, a ruler whose authority could be defied then simply laughed away as meaningless?"
My tone softened as I pulled her closer, our foreheads almost touching amidst the godswood's tranquil bowers. "You must know your welfare is paramount to me, Rhaella. Which is precisely why I could not fail to uphold the law and appearance of disciplined rule, even in this most agonizing instance of a knight overstepping with my own blood." I reached up to tenderly brush a stray lock of her lustrous silver-blonde hair away from her face. "For if I cannot command the respect and solidarity of our people even before being crowned, however could I expect to rule wisely and firmly once I take up the mantle of king over the Seven Kingdoms?"
The heavy silence stretched between us, weighted by unspoken tensions. I couldn't meet Rhaella's guarded gaze, shame burning within me.
"When I protested against our arranged marriage..." I began haltingly. "It wasn't because I lack affection for you, sister."
Rhaella regarded me coolly, posture stiffening. "Then why did the idea trouble you so?"
I winced at her aloof tone. "You mustn't think I desired another. I did not."
"So why then?" Rhaella's voice remained carefully measured. "What caused you to oppose our match?"
I wet my dry lips, struggling to find the right words to explain without inflaming her further. At last, I met the eyes of this girl-woman, seeing kernels of justifiable resentment there.
"You are but three-and-ten, Rhaella," I said gruffly. "Despite your maturity, you are still so very young. Too young to comprehend the weights a man of my years bears."
Understanding flashed across her features, though her expression remained neutral. I pressed on, finally giving voice to the fears corroding my heart.
"I feared stealing your innocence before you were truly ready to become a wife." My voice roughened with emotion. "Or that the darkness within my spirit would somehow diminish the light of your vibrant youth over the years."
Rhaella seemed to consider my words carefully before responding, her tone clipped.
"I understand you felt obliged to voice...concerns. For my wellbeing." She eyed me levelly. "Though I cannot fathom why you seem so convinced of your own corrupting influence upon me."
I flinched at her words, knowing she had every right to her doubts and resentments where I was concerned. We had never been overly close, despite our blood ties.
"You are too young to comprehend the cruelties and malice that can fester in a man's soul over decades," I replied heavily. "I only aimed to protect you from that for as long as I could permit."
Rhaella's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "How gallant of you to decide what is best for me without consulting my own wishes in the matter."
The simmering accusation in her tone made my shoulders sag. I knew I deserved her recriminations, her distrust.
"You're right, sweet sister," I said roughly. "I arrogantly assumed I could dictate the conditions of your life without your consent. It was a disservice to your budding agency as a woman grown."
Rhaella seemed to study me appraisingly for a long moment before giving a short nod of acceptance, if not outright forgiveness.
"Then I propose a compromise," she said, folding her hands placidly. "Let us void our current betrothal and revisit the possibility of marrying once I have reached an age where my body and mind are clearly those of a fully matured woman, able to make an informed choice regarding my future bondmate."
It was a reasonable request; one I should have offered from the start instead of trying to unilaterally decide her path. I inclined my head in solemn agreement.
"You have my word; I shall go to our parents and grandparents posthaste and beg for this betrothal to be dissolved until such a time as you turn eighteen."
I tried not to flush at how painfully that came out. But Rhaella merely dipped her chin once more in acknowledgment.
"Eighteen it shall be, then. That should provide sufficient years for me to prepare myself for the realities of a wife's duties and decide if I wish to elevate our family ties to that singular bond."
The phrasing was clinical, holding no hints of tender affection or maidenly longing. But I supposed I deserved no more after my high-handed behavior. All I could do was nod stiffly.
"You have my vigil, sweet sister," I said gruffly. "I shall guard your autonomy in this matter jealously until the day you declare your true desires as a woman in full bloom."
Rhaella's expression didn't outwardly shift, but I liked to think I detected a slight thawing in her glinting purple eyes. A sliver of gratitude, perhaps, for my belated attempt to honor her personhood.
"Then we understand one another," she said crisply. "I appreciate your...revised perspective on the matter of our nuptials."
It wasn't forgiveness or a vow of holding me to my word. But it was enough pragmatic acceptance to lift a measure of the leaden weight from my heart.
"We do," I replied simply. "You have my fealty, Princess Rhaella. To await your empowered choice at the appointed hour."
She inclined her head one last time in cool acknowledgment of my pledge. No further words were needed as the cloying silence resettled over the godswood like a heavy shroud.
There was still much to be done, amends to make, trust to painstakingly rebuild over the years to come. But at least now, I could take solace that I wouldn't be robbing my sister of her agency as a woman when that fateful day finally dawned.
It was a small justice compared to the monumental scales I'd have to balance in time. But it was a start towards righting the wrongs of my past arrogance.
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading this chapter, where we delve deeper into the intricate dynamics of duty, love, and justice in Westeros. Writing from the perspective of Aerys/William as he navigates the difficult decision regarding Bonifer's punishment was a particularly challenging yet rewarding experience.
I spent considerable time reflecting on how Aerys could realistically play the middleman, balancing his obligations as a leader with his personal ties and emotions. The question of whether Bonifer should be punished and to what extent was a central theme I wanted to explore, as it highlights the harsh realities and moral complexities faced by those in power.
Moreover, I aimed to depict Rhaella's concern for Aerys in a way that resonates with readers on a familial level. Her worry stems from a sisterly love and the fear of seeing her brother when he was injured. It is my hope that this nuance comes through clearly and adds depth to their relationship.
Your engagement and feedback are invaluable, and I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoyed the previous chapters. As we continue to journey through this saga, the interplay of loyalty, honor, and the heavy mantle of leadership will remain central to our characters' stories.
Thank you for your continued support and for sharing this adventure with me. I look forward to your thoughts and insights on this chapter and the ongoing narrative.
Warm regards,
Mtle232