Aerion pulled back his hood as he entered the grandeur hall of the Redfort.
Lord Hoster Redfort sat at the helm of a wide table before their ancient throne from when they ruled as Kings, laughing with the other nobles that joined him.
"My Lord." his escort called, gaining the attention of the older man "Prince Aerion Targaryen."
The prince clasped his hands as he looked up, watching attentively as the man raised his cup in the air.
"Let us raise a cup for our Targaryen prince.. Who managed to lose his keep and has come begging me for an army."
Rodrik stood beside him, while Aerion had sent Willam and Jory on another path to gain the support of the other houses, with House Arryn and House Grafton being their key objectives.
"When you learn to protect your own villages from the mountain clansmen, you may jest." Aerion scoffed, taking a step closer towards the man "But you stand correct, I come here against my own judgement for your support in recapturing Runestone from my traitorous cousin."
Hoster smirked to those mumbling to themselves,and leaned back against his chair, taking a large bite from the chicken leg in his hand.
Aerion hated having to ask for support, it was undignified for him to come begging for the numbers he was unable to raise within his own lands.
"We received word from Ser Gerold." Lord Hoster waved over his Maester that stood in the shadows of the hall "Maester Coren, read it for us, will you?" he asked.
The maester slowly grabbed the piece of parchment from one of the pockets within his sleeve, he was a frail old man with a bony face that unsettled the prince, who thought he was looking into the eyes of death for a moment.
Aerion raised his finger, and shook his head "I don't need to hear the words he spews, Lord Hoster, Runestone is mine by right. You have no choice but to support me, I assisted you when the mountain clansmen launched their attacks. You owe me your allegiance."
"Come sit and eat a while, my prince." Hoster gestured towards his servants, who were quick to lay out a plate and cutlery for another two. "You shouldn't discuss such things on an empty stomach."
Aerion turned towards Rodrik, looking at him for a moment, before shrugging and making his way closer to the table, taking a seat.
While he had served as Lord Hoster's squire for two years, he hardly had any meaningful conversations with the man. It was primarily his eldest son and heir, Ser Adrian Redfort who furthered his training above what Rodrik could handle.
"Where is Adrian?" Aerion asked, noticing his absence.
"He has gone hunting." Hoster said, taking another large bite from the chicken leg.
Aerion nodded to the servant as they cut the roasted chicken in front of him, and placed a bit onto his plate. It was strange being back within these walls, but it only made him want Runestone back even more.
"I thought he was heading away from the Vale, to make his name in the lists across the narrow sea." Aerion asked, curiously.
"Aye, he will eventually… but he is needed here in case of any future incursions." Hoster was getting on in years, while he still kept some of his brown hair, he did have noticeable greying and hair loss, and he had grown considerably larger in weight than when Aerion first laid eyes on him years ago.
"Then he'll be more than glad to join me in the reclaiming of my home." Aerion tapped his fingers on the table, sticking to the original reason for his visit.
"You are persistent, I will give you that." Hoster said, clearly showing his annoyance of Aerion's presence, throwing the chicken leg onto his plate
"Leave us, now." he turned to the nobles that joined him, which followed with a long pause in the conversation until the last left the hall.
"You are oddly quiet, Ser Rodrik." Hoster continued "I want your thoughts on this whole mess. Why should I even consider sending men to their deaths for something that is not their own. When my men fight the clansmen, it's because it will be their families that are slaughtered should we lose."
"Gerold as Lord of Runestone will cause nothing but harm for the Vale, he is not a man to do this unless he had assurances." Rodrik stood behind Aerion, refusing to take a seat "I remember when Arnold Arryn attempted to seize the Vale from Lady Jeyne, and Gerold was chief among the late Lord Yorbert's advisors to support his claim despite being the Lord Protector."
"It has been years since Arnold has been seen in the Vale. He is rumoured to be thousands of miles away, across the narrow sea." Hoster scoffed "Now you suggest he has managed to find backing there and is supporting Ser Gerold?"
"It would make sense." Aerion interrupted, having thought on what Rodrik was saying "He needs a foothold in the Vale if he is challenge Lady Jeyne's claim."
The prospect of a future war in the Vale made everyone uneasy, they had already suffered enough bloodshed between the houses, without adding another problem.
"We don't know that as of yet." Hoster said "So tell me, Prince Aerion, what would I get should I come to your aid? I won't be committing my soldiers to your cause for nothing."
"What is it you want, Lord?" Aerion rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair.
"I have a daughter, Jessamyn, she is currently serving as a lady-in-waiting for our beautiful maiden, Lady Jeyne. I will commit my soldiers should you swear to marry her when the fighting is over." Hoster said.
Aerion shook his head.
"You know I can not swear to that, Lord Hoster. I am promised to another." he said "I am willing to contribute my forces to your campaign when you next want to go battle the clansmen."
"One can try." he chuckled. "I agree to your terms, my prince. I only jest, I didn't mean to insult you as I did. We have all had to face snakes in the family to secure our positions. And if what Rodrik says is true, then we must end this before Civil War breaks out throughout the kingdom once more."
"Thank you, lord." Aerion rose from the chair "How many can you spare?"
Maester Coren made his way up to Lord Hoster, and they whispered for a moment between each other, while Aerion gave a successful smirk to Rodrik.
"I can spare six hundred men-at-arms, and some seventy bowmen." Lord Hoster nodded "My son will join you, he has been itching for a fight, and I fear he will start one soon enough."
"That is generous, lord." Rodrik interrupted, placing his hand on Aerion's shoulder, who thought he should be contributing more "When can we expect them?"
"It will take us a few days to get them mobilised, but they should be near Runestone within the week." Lord Hoster replied "Maester Coren predicts a storm to come throughout the night, I invite you to stay until morning.."
"That is most kind, Lord Hoster, we thank you for the hospitality, and kindly accept this invitation." Rodrik continued.
"We do?" Aerion said, receiving a smack on his back from his loyal sworn shield.
"Yes, my prince." a coy smile formed on Rodrik's lips, causing the prince to roll his eyes and sit back down at the table.
A few hours passed which felt like an eternity, Aerion was sick of listening to Lord Hoster tell the stories of his past life as a knight battling against all manner of enemy, and believed most of what he spewed was a bluff, especially when he spoke of fighting against Myrish pirates in Dorne.
Lord Hoster and Ser Rodrik were connected to the hip for most of the night, one would think they had been friends for their entire lives, Rodrik even shared his experiences fighting across the narrow sea as a sellsword.
"I tell you, Rodrik, the man was built like an ox, and carried two pikes into battle, I thought I may die that day, but the seven gave me the strength to kill him." Hoster bathed the hall in laughter.
"Well its good that you did, I once went against a man who I could of sworn was birthed by giants." Rodrik joined in his laughter, and Aerion could only sit bored out of his mind.
"Father!" Adrian shouted as he came storming into the hall "You should see what we captured. A nice bit of meat for the dungeons." he chuckled, as two men dragged a ragged fellow behind them with chains, his clothes made from animal furs.
The prince looked over and immediately picked himself up from the chair, and walked down the hall. "Your father is entertaining some important guests." Aerion declared, watching as Adrian smiled and embraced him.
"Good to see you again, my prince." he patted his back during the embrace, then pulled back and kept his hands on his shoulders, then went into a whisper "He spoke about his dornish experiences, didn't he?"
"What do you think?" Aerion mumbled, and looked back up to the table.
His father rose from his chair and made his way down to them, the focus was primarily on the prisoner.
"Why have you brought him here, Adrian? You know what we do to these savages. It is unsavoury for our guests to see such dirt."
"I didn't know we were having such guests, father, but seeing as we do, I am sure Aerion would not mind visiting the dungeons with me." Adrian smirked, "We have many prisoners that need seeing too."
Aerion cocked his head back to Adrian, and nodded "I will join you, maybe I will even find some enjoyment from this trip, anything is better than hearing two old men reminisce about their fighting days."
They journeyed down to the dungeons, with the prisoner being dragged behind them by two of their household guard. Adrian had his arms clasped behind him on the inside of his cloak.
"I was sorry to hear of Lady Rhea's tragic passing, I remember how I felt when I lost my mother." Adrian said "even now after so many years, it can be fresh in the mind from time to time."
Aerion shook his head, the thought of reclaiming Runestone had allowed him to forget for a moment of his mother's death, it was good to have something on his mind to fill in the gaping hole he felt within his heart over a woman that rarely showed love to him.
"I felt something at first, but I don't really feel it anymore." Aerion admitted "Gerold stole the opportunity to finally put my mother to rest from me. I want to make him pay for it, there will be time for grieving later."
"Regaining Runestone will have its challenges. In all of our history, no one has come close to breaching through those gates, not even during the Andal Invasion, they defeated House Royce by slaying the Bronze King Robar on the battlefield." Adrian reminded him.
"What if we were to trick Gerold out into the field? If he were to die, then the men within the walls would surrender the castle to me." Aerion stopped in his tracks as they reached the dungeons.
The men following them dragged the wildling into one of the cells, who immediately began to add to the cries of the other prisoners that remained in the dungeons.
"It is a thought." Adrian walked over towards a table that laid in the shadows of the dungeons, grabbing what looked like a dagger "Bring the first one out." he commanded the men.
"You disagree?" the prince questioned.
"I wouldn't say I disagree, but there must be a reason for him to leave the castle. I suspect he has enough food stock to survive a few months." Adrian cocked his head to Aerion "Should there not be men within the walls that are loyal to you? How is it that Gerold was able to take the castle with no opposition."
The guards brought out the first prisoner from the cell, he was an old bearded fellow that looked as if he hadn't eaten properly in months, with the outline of his bones clearly visible. They chained him up to a post that was in the middle of the dungeon.
"He took the opportunity of my mother's passing, and me being away." Aerion said as he leaned against the wall "When he has a letter from my mother supposedly disinheriting me, it is quite difficult for the soldiers not to accept it."
Adrian walked up to the man tied on his knees, and leant down to his level, holding the knife up and laying it upon his chest "We travelled to the farm you told us about, and there was never any sign of clansmen, there was no sign of a large camp even, which means you lied to me."
The man only let out a menacing chuckle, showing his shaved teeth before spitting at Ser Adrian, then speaking some nonsense in a language unfamiliar to Aerion.
"Remove those rags." Adrian commanded, returning to his feet and removing his cloak, and placing it on the table, looking back at Aerion "This is what we are forced to do to our enemies, otherwise they will see us as weak."
"You won't hear me complaining." Aerion shrugged.
The man was stripped of the bloody rags, and Adrian returned to kneeling before the man, carving into his already scarred torso. Aerion enjoyed the display of brutality, from the man's cries, to the splashes of blood that stained the walls after each slash, iit brought a thrill that defeated all others urges.
Aerion spaced out during all the cries of pain, imagining the man was Gerold and thinking of all ways he could exact revenge on him, and how it would make him smile to carve off each piece of him, making him suffer as much pain as possible before taking his life with a slice, ear to ear.
Adrian clicked his fingers in front of the prince, regaining his attention from those dark thoughts. He looked through him to see the now dead man being carried away by the guards.
"Are you in there?" Adrian chuckled, grabbing a white cloth and cleaning the blood from his hands "You're being quiet, does the blood spoil your mood?"
"On the contrary, I was thinking of all the things I would do to Gerold once I get my hands on him." Aerion grinned.
"There really is an insidious spirit within you, isn't there?" they both joined in unison with a laugh "Now come, let us drink until we can walk no more, it'll be just like the night after that grand battle that earned you your knighthood."
Aerion could hardly remember anything from the night, only that Rodrik and Lord Hoster were considerably drunk when Aerion and Adrian returned from their trip to the dungeons.
He rubbed his eyes, and stumbled from the bed and immediately collapsed onto his hands and knees. The blurry silhouette of the Iron Throne was atop the steps before him, and looking down he noticed that he was no longer at the Redfort, but his hands were dripping with blood onto a burnt field that laid beneath him.
The scorched field was littered with the bodies of soldiers and peasants alike. The landscape was familiar to the hills that surrounded Runestone. The echoes of screaming men and women, the clashing of swords whispered around him but he could see no battle, and no struggle. Was this to be the outcome of his coming battle against Ser Gerold?
He turned back to the throne, questioning what it had to do with where he was, though soon fell back onto his back as a figure appeared from behind the throne and took a seat as if it was his right. The man was faceless, almost shapeless, though he could make out no features.
Aerion whipped his head around as the shouting and bickering of men came from behind him, and the scenery changed before his eyes. The field of blood disappeared and was replaced with the throne room in the Red Keep, grass turned to stone and the wide open plains grew high walls.
Bodies rose and turned on one another, forming two clear factions. Swords were drawn, and teeth bared in aggression, but still their faces remained blurred.
A deep, booming sound rattled his bones and his breath caught as he looked into the eyes of a great dragon, with its bronze scales. It shouldered its way through the hall, crumbling the stone as if it was sand, and stepping on everyone in its path, with the screams growing louder.
Its eyes were fixed on Aerion and a growl began to rumble deep in its chest, so low that he could barely hear it. The dragon's scaly jaw pulled back from his colossal teeth and into a snarl and Aerion didn't move a muscle, as if he was frozen in place.
He was forced to watch its mouth open wide, and he saw the flames travelling up his long throat. Something fixed him in place as the dragon's flames engulfed him and he felt it through every bone in his body, as his skin melted.
Aerion shot up in his bed, the same scream filling the bedchamber before he attempted to gasp for breath. His mouth was bone dry, and his stomach ached with hunger. He flung himself out of bed and onto the floor, and pushed himself against the wall and looked to his hands, confused as they no longer dripped in blood.
It was only a dream, yet it felt so real.
Rodrik's bedchambers were located beside Aerion's and he came storming through the moment he heard the screaming with his sword unsheathed and ready to strike.
"My prince, is everything alright?" He was alert to their surroundings, his eyes never sticking to a single direction.
"I.. I am fine." he squinted his eyes in confusion, still feeling the pain all across his body, but nothing had nothing to explain it "We need to leave."
Rodrik finally sheathed his sword once he determined there was no immediate threat.
"Leave? It is the middle of the night, my prince, there is a heavy storm as the Maester has predicted." he said, still in his nightwear.
His mind went to the thought that maybe it was a sign it was time to claim his birthright, to reclaim another. All his ideas to take back his birthright from Gerold only made him more anxious that it would not work, except one.
There was only one thing that could reclaim his home, and that was to claim his birthright. The same that his father claimed before him, and their ancestors like Aegon the Conqueror also did. It was well within his right to claim a dragon of his own, should he show himself to be worthy, and the fourteen flames favoured him.
A Targaryen must never allow the likes of sheep to get the better of him.
"We need to go to Dragonstone, only then will we reclaim our home." Aerion urged "The storm should pass by the time we reach Gulltown."
"Are you out of your mind?" Rodrik rubbed his eyes, still feeling the after effects from the few hours earlier "Don't forget the reason we are here in the first place. House Waynwood is expecting our visit in a couple of days time, do you not want their support?"
"I won't need their support if I go to Dragonstone." Aerion said, to Rodrik confusion "I'm going to claim my birthright. There are many dragons that make their home in the dragonmont, I intend to make one of them mine."
"You make it sound easier than it actually is, my prince." Rodrik shook his head "But if your really set on this foolish attempt, then let us head to it immediately.."