Aerion I
The feast celebrating the recapture of Runestone was a modest affair when compared to the wedding feast of Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor and there were only a few nobles to enjoy the occasion, and so the great hall stood only half full as it should. Their foot soldiers and lowborn knights celebrated out in the fields where their camp had been set up before they soon departed back to their posts on the docks, or to the Redfort.
Rows of tables had been erected in the hall, with Aerion's table being at the forefront just below the throne of the ancient bronze kings, carved from stone with runes that had been etched across the arms and back, and filled with melted copper. Performers and entertainers had been invited from the nearby villages and littered the hall, with the young pages, squires and maids busy serving drinks to those present.
The prince wore a black doublet, intricate in its design, golden lace embroidered dragons adorned the helm, their fierce elegance accentuated by the arms of the doublet, which mimicked the scaly texture of the mighty beasts, and his once long silver locks, was now cut short.
Atop each of the tables were plentiful amounts of meat: roasted duck, seared beef, assorted sausages, and baked goat legs, and more importantly, it would not be a feast without the assortment of the finest wines in their cellars from across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.
Aerion, despite the objections from his close council, was quick to command the removal of his mother's banners, and in their stead, replace them with the three-headed dragon's banner of House Targaryen in the great hall, which they now hung proudly on the walls, and above their gates, to show the nobility that a new power dominated the Vale as the Bronze King's of old never could.
The prince banged his goblet against the table carved from the Ironwood of House Forrester in the North to gain the attention of the guests as soon as they were in their seats. Amongst his table was only that of his closest allies, to his left were Ser Rodrik, Lord Donnel Grafton, and the former gold cloak, Jory Manderly, while to his right sat Ser Willam, Ser Adrian Redfort, and Runestones Maester and a previous teacher of the prince, Davos.
He rose from his chair with the goblet of Arbor Red in hand, and let out a loud laugh as he dropped back down to his seat, finding it difficult to keep his balance, clearly under the influence of drink before the feast was fully underway.
"Wel…Welcome to you all!" Aerion began, swaying slightly "This victory is yours. The fine men that sit before me, and those… those celebrating wildly outside these walls. I could… could… I could never have regained my home without your strength and dedication."
Willam rose from his chair, and placed a hand upon Aerion's arm as he attempted to gently force him back down onto his seat.
"You're making a fool of yourself, brother." Willam said "Allow me to finish this speech to save further embarrassment."
Aerion furrowed his brow and turned his gaze towards Willam, his eyes narrowing as he tried to discern which of the two blurry figures before him was the real Willam. He pushed him back as he gave a vacant stare.
"I'm fine… I'm fine.." he wobbled as his focus was then on Adrian Redfort "For centuries, our families… have fought side by side on the battlefield, and only… only together will we finally bring peace to our lands."
Aerion lifted his free hand, nearly spilling his drink as he gestured for everyone to rise.
"Get up.. Come on, to House Redfort. May our houses… stand together for a thousand years more."
He finally fell back down into his seat, and Willam took the chance to rise back up from his chair and place a hand on Aerion's shoulder as he addressed the crowd.
"As you can see, our prince has mayhaps started the celebrations earlier than expected." Willam said, to many chuckles from the nobles "NOW! Eat and drink until you have had your fill, and celebrate knowing Runestone is now back in the hands of its one true lord, Prince Aerion Targaryen, and rest assured, he promises to bring peace back to the Vale and end the years of squabbling that has halted progress for too long."
Ser Rodrik slid the flagon of wine towards himself as Aerion reached out for it, with his sworn shield showing his disapproval with the shake of his head. The prince rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair and looked out as the drums began beating and everyone started to feast.
"I must say that your speech was flattering, my prince, had you praised us more I'd fear there may be some questions as to whether you hold some forbidden love for me, truly, it brought a tear to my eye." Adrian smirked "My father will be pleased to hear you are just as committed to ending the years of bloodshed and the clansmen plight on our people."
Aerion's drunken gaze was elsewhere, specifically on the maid that was filling Rodrik's own goblet. While her looks left a lot to be desired with her plain auburn curls, and pronounced nose, it did not stop him from placing a hand firmly on the cheek of her ass, only giving it a slight squeeze before Rodrik swiped it away.
"Behave yourself, my prince." Rodrik urged, shooing the girl away in the process "You are being watched and should they see this behaviour from you, then they will tell others in the realm."
The prince nodded and picked himself up from the chair, stabilising himself for a moment, before swiping the flagon of wine from his swornshield's side and making his way over to Jory.
"What the prince spoke is true, even if he currently can not express it." Willam said "House Redfort are amongst our greatest allies, and we will need your assistance for what comes next. Arnold Arryn lives, and so long as he does, he will continue to act against the interests of the Vale."
Aerion sloshed as he walked, taking a huge gulp from the flagon, and tasting the sweetness of the wine on his lips. He held firmly onto the table as he tripped near Jory, with the flagon of wine spilling onto the table and dripping down to the floor, but the prince could only laugh.
They both staggered into the courtyard, the cool night air refreshing against his flushed face. The moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the stone walls and cobblestone. Aerion, holding a now empty flagon, turned to Jory with a mischievous grin.
"How about a challenge?" He suggested "We'll take turns shooting arrows at each other to knock mugs off our heads."
Jory blinked, seemingly considering the idea.
"Are you mad?" he asked, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth "You want us to shoot arrows at each other.. While we're clearly drunk."
"Precisely!" Aerion declared, swaying slightly "What's the worst that could happen? Besides, it'll be fun."
"Fine! But if I end up with an arrow through my skull, I'll haunt you forever." Jory nodded.
They both laughed hysterically and stumbled their way into the nearby storeroom and rummaged through it, finding two sturdy shields and a couple of clay mugs. Jory was the first to set a mug on his head, took a position a few metres away from the prince, and used the shield to cover his chest.
"Hold still!" Aerion called out.
He squinted one eye as he took aim, and with a deep breath, released the arrow. It whistled through the air, narrowly missing the mug and clattering harmlessly against Jory's shield.
"Ha! You missed." Jory called back "My turn."
Aerion watched as Jory notched an arrow, his heart pounding with excitement. Jory's arrow flew and struck the mug on the prince's head and sent it tumbling to the ground.
"Got it!" Jory exclaimed, and raised his arms in victory.
"That was luck." Aerion laughed "Come, let us go again!"
The drunken commotion in the yard was seen and heard by servants and nobles alike as they moved about the castle in the night, Jory and Aerion continued to drink and get carried away with their fun until it gained the attention of Rodrik, who came out into the courtyard in a stir, with two of their household guard following closely behind him.
"What is this madness?" Rodrik exclaimed.
Aerion had his bow drawn when his sworn shield interrupted his focus, or lack thereof, and he let the arrow loose in surprise and it grazed past Jory's cheek, causing a small cut, and then bounced against the stone wall behind him. They stood there awkwardly awaiting the northman's reaction. Jory ran a finger across the scar and looked surprised at Aerion, before breaking into resounding laughter.
"Rodrik!" Aerion smiled, "Have you come to join us? you should be next… get him a mug, Jory."
The prince dropped the bow and then stumbled his way over to Rodrik and sluggishly balanced himself by holding onto his arm. Aerion looked at him with his blank eyes, and held onto his stomach as he puked on the ground, and onto Rodrik's boots.
"The prince is tired, see to it that he is escorted to his bedchambers for some much needed rest." Rodrik said, nodding to the household guard.
He awoke the following morning, bleary eyed and with a soft headache, blinking his eyes against the sun's golden rays shining through his window as a young boy pulled back the curtains. He groaned softly, not remembering anything from the night before.
"Ser Willam has called a meeting, my lord… uh.. my prince." he said.
Aerion layed in bed for the moment, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated ignoring the boy and instead staying in bed a little while longer. He pushed himself up and looked across to the boy, as he stood in the doorway, dressed in a brown doublet with black trousers and boots.
"Who are you?" Aerion asked, raising his brow.
The boy looked to be no older than ten name days, with brown curls and a face marked by freckles with a fresh layer of dirt as if he had just been training in the courtyard moments before.
"Robar Moss, my prince." the boy replied "Ser Rodrik said I was to be your squire."
He planted his feet down onto the rugged floor beneath him, and planted his hands in his face, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. He gestured towards the mug that laid on the table across the chamber, and took a small sip from it as Robar passed it.
"I am in no need of one ." Aerion sighed.
Aerion wiped the water from his lips, and rose to his feet, stumbling backward as he felt somewhat light-headed. He walked past Robar, giving him a quick glance as he remained in place, and grabbed the white tunic across the back of the chair and pulled it over his head.
"You have done your duty and awoke me, boy." Aerion halted "You're dismissed."
Robar bowed and left his bedchambers in haste. The prince laced the neck of his tunic and grabbed the familiar pendant from the bedside and wore it beneath the tunic. He then slipped on a pair of black breeches and boots before setting off.
Their council chambers were located through the great hall, and featured a large stone table at the centre with runes carved along its border. A map of Runestone and her outlying holdings - both coastal and inland - was splayed out on a board directly in front of the window.
Aerion entered and looked over his council. Willam stood behind his chair, looking tall, and commanding against the sunlight that poured through the windows. Rodrik was also present, seated at the table and wore a long black cloak above his plated chestplate.
"Good morrow, my prince." Maester Daveth said.
He rose from his chair and bowed his head in respect, though Aerion did nothing but sneer at the fool before placing his gaze elsewhere. He was a tricky old fool that the prince had little trust for, the man was too quick to bend the knee to his late cousin, but Daveth had been in service to House Royce since before his mother was even born, and had knowledge only few maesters possess.
Another man to rise and bow was their steward, Ser Osbert Moss, an unlanded knight who was raised to prominence and knighted by Aerion's grandfather, Yorbert, for his loyalty during the succession crisis of Lady Jeyne, and has since served House Royce.
"Apologies for my lateness, sers." Aerion replied.
As he took a seat at the helm, the cupbearer filled his mug with wine. He brought it to his lips, savouring the rich, fruity taste as Willam sat down at the opposite side of the table, and began the meeting.
"I spoke with Ser Osbert in the earlier hours of the morning to discuss attributing an allotment of coin from our coffers to fix the damage made to our walls from the siege, especially the one torn down by Vermithor." Willam said "That is when I discovered that Gerold had left us near to penniless, shortly after seizing Runestone for himself, he had a large portion of the gold delivered to one of our ports on the eastern coast to be transported across the narrow sea, that is all we know of now."
Aerion bit his lip as he heard the news, and angrily planted his fists upon the table and squeezed them tightly, this was a blow he had not expected, and could not come at worst of a time, they would need their coffers full for the war in the stepstones to come.
"Who was the one to transport it? I highly doubt he would trust this to a lowly household guard to handle." Rodrik questioned.
"It's hard to say for certain, though from what I have gathered, he had only arrived at the behest of Gerold mere days after Lady Rhea's tragic passing." Willam replied "Though I hate to fear for the worst, but this could be yet another underling of Arnold Arryn, we know he is still out there - and now we may have a lead to him."
"Ser Gerold had asked me to send out multiple ravens during his short reign here." Maester Daveth said.
They all sat in waiting as the frail old man slowly pulled out a piece of parchment from his grey sleeve that extended out past his hand, and he then unfolded it before them.
"A raven was sent out twice to House Waynwood of Ironoaks, in quick succession to one another, Gerold wrote these himself and I knew nothing of their contents. One of the guards was sent out as a messenger to… no that does not look right." the maester looked over his own writing "House Lynderly of the Snakewood yes… though he has yet to return."
Aerion took a sip from his wine as Willam rose back up to his feet and walked over to the map, and placed rounded pins on House Lynderly and House Waynwood.
"Then we must suspect that they are in line with Arnold Arryn. House Waynwood supported his claim for the lordship during the last succession crisis, as did House Lynderly."
"Are we certain that it is truly Arnold Arryn behind this conflict?" Ser Osbert asked "There has not been any word from him since he was set free from the sky cells. The Eyrie is in no short supply of claimants who may want to press a claim."
"In any case, Arnold is the main suspect behind the recent conflicts." Aerion spoke up "Should we learn otherwise, then we will deal with it as it comes, how are we to repair the wall with the little gold that still remains in our coffers?"
"I will travel to Gulltown with Ser Osbert and meet with the merchant guilds, they may lend us the gold we need to make repairs while we fill our coffers." Willam said "In the meantime, we will make any essential repairs, and double the watch on our walls."
"If all agree that brings us to the last matter to discuss." Rodrik said.
Rodrik turned his gaze towards Aerion, and began to tap his hand against the table, while Aerion took a sip of his wine once again.
"It is high time that you fulfil your grandfather's promise, my prince, get atop your dragon and make way to the Eyrie, and seal the pledge with a proposal for Lady Jeyne's hand." Rodrik said.
Aerion sluggishly leaned back, and turned his focus onto Maester Daveth and Ser Osbert, nudging his head as he gestured for them to leave, to which they answered the command with a bow of the head before deserting the room.
"This is a sensitive matter, Rodrik." the prince said "The promise my grandfather made is one that we are still not sure Lady Jeyne wants to continue with, we know her true nature in this chamber, do we not?"
"Aye the rumours are known, but it is a phase and nothing more, should she not want another succession crisis, then she will do her duty and bore the Vale an heir to rule on after her, and preferably, one of your blood." Rodrik responded.
Aerion rose from his chair and leaned his hands against the table, looking down at Rodrik.
"What would you have me do? Force her to marry me or threaten to seize the Eyrie, perhaps climb upon Vermithor and burn those who resist my rule, and prove to them that Targaryens only ever want to conquer." He replied.
"It will not hurt to speak with her, brother." Willam interjected, returning to his chair "Should she not wish to continue with the marriage pact, then we can begin the preparations to find a new match for you that will benefit your rule."
Aerion and Lady Jeyne were inseparable as children, when his grandfather served as Lord Paramount and the Eyrie was his home. He loved her very much, but it was not rooted in undying passion as with Rhaenyra, regardless the thought of marriage still brought a gentle smile to his lips.
She had proven herself to be a cunning diplomat but lacked the urgency needed in times of war, had they killed Arnold Arryn while he remained imprisoned in the sky cells, he would not be alive to threaten the Vale now.
"Fine," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "If it pleases you, I will travel to the Eyrie on the morrow and speak with Jeyne. Now, why is it that I have been given a squire?"
"My prince, your insolence at last night's feast showed that you must grow up, and quickly." Rodrik said "Robar has proved himself to be a fine swordsman at his young age, and shall be a great squire fit for a prince."
"I can bloody well behave however I like, Rodrik, and neither you, or even Willam can prevent it." Aerion said "Never make a decision without asking for my permission first."
Rhaenyra I
"To claim a dragon of his own is to go against the king! He gave no such permission to the young prince."
The small council was in disarray when the princess finally arrived, with her hands clasped at her waist, followed shortly by her personal guard, Ser Erryk of the Kingsguard. She wore an elegant red dress embroidered with black dragons and cut off at her shoulders.
"He is a targaryen prince, Lord Jasper, do not exacerbate the news, it was well within his rights to attempt at claiming a dragon." Lyman Beesbury argued.
Rhaenyra felt lost in the conversation, though traversed across the table and kissed her father on the cheek as she had always done before taking a place at the end, beside the master of ships, Lord Tyland Lannister.
"Apologies for my late coming, my lords." she said gracefully "What is it that is presently being discussed?"
She noticed as Lord Jasper scoffed and rolled his eyes, though decided not to take it further, he had always been a rash man, ever since he had come to replace Lord Lyonel Strong as Master of Laws only a few months back, and neither did she find his vulgar tongue appeasing.
"Your cousin, Prince Aerion." Lord Lyonel responded "A raven was received from Dragonstone, the castellan has revealed that he has since claimed King Jaehaerys' old mount, Vermithor during his short stay there."
Rhaenyra was shocked, though she couldn't help but break into a smile over the news, and had no intentions to hide her pleasure, much to the discontent of others on the council.
"Do we know if these were his intentions on Dragonstone?" Her father asked "I was led to believe he would be travelling to Gulltown aboard Lord Corlys' ship."
"It is unclear of his motives, your grace, but there has been much discontent coming out of the Vale in recent days, and that something of note may have taken place. We must await news to reach us." Grand Maester Mellos said.
The princess remained silent during the discussions and learned the opinions of those on the council, as her father explained, it was the greatest way to learn if she was to rule as Queen one day. The thoughts of Aerion brought back a mixture of emotions, and the pit in her stomach of missing his presence returned.
"What is to be done, your grace? This is sure to deeply affect the political landscape of not only the Vale, but of the realm. Should we not take precautions to ensure that he does not act against the crown?" Tyland asked.
Rhaenyra scoffed at the Master of Ships comment, gaining the attention of those present.
"Surely, Lord Tyland, you do not suggest that the King's nephew would take up arms against the crown now that he has a dragon?" Rhaenyra responded.
"We can not know for certain, princess." Tyland said "But this is still deeply worrying, Prince Aerion is promised to Lady Jeyne Arryn, do we want another great house to have access to these dangerous weapons?"
Rhaenyra shook her head as she leaned forward and began to twirl the ball before her, Syrax was the gentlest of dragons, and to call them 'weapons' was to bring great disdain in her view. She had taken to the skies with her at the age of seven, and since then known as the youngest dragonrider known.
"There is nothing of note that we can do until we learn more. The Vale has been in turmoil for many decades now, to forcefully break this match would be to create further division in the kingdom." Lord Lyonel said "the decision lies with you, my king."
"Prince Aerion is my nephew, the son to my beloved brother, and possesses the dragon's blood, this makes him perhaps rash and chaotic, but I will not see him punished for claiming his birthright, he has just as much right as any Targaryen prince or princess." Viserys said "We shall see in the coming weeks and months what he does with this newfound power, but as of now, no action is to be taken against him."
There were many other matters discussed at the small council after that, and once dismissed from the chamber, Rhaenyra met with Laenor in the gardens to break their fast, they had to been seen to be getting on stunningly as newly wed couple and so they decided on a picnic in front of the heart tree.
A woven straw basket would be laid out on a knitted white blanket, inside it was freshly baked white bread, covered with a white cloth, with Jam, a wedge of cheese, grapes, and their personal favourite, lemon cake. They each shared a weakness in cake, and so it happened to be the first thing Laenor grabbed from the basket.
"You must stop serving up these delicious cakes to me." Laenor commented "soon enough, I'll have indulged too much and become unappealing. I rely on my looks, didn't you know?"
Rhaenyra was spread across the blanket, and rested her head on Laenor's thigh as he remained upright, licking his fingers, getting the final taste of the lemon cake he had just demolished. She enjoyed his company very much, and it was as if they'd been taken back to being kids whenever she was with him, and he distracted her from the ever-growing conflicts within the walls of King's Landing as Alicent grew the support for her son.
They'd met on Rhaenyra's first true day in King's Landing, at least that she could remember at the young age of four, when her father was named Prince of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne instead of Laenor's mother, Princess Rhaenys, at the Great Council of 101 AC. Lord Corlys still remained as Master of Ships despite the animosity between the two families after the decision had been made.
"We would not want that, hm?" she giggled "I can't imagine what you'd be without the looks that have attracted many of the servant's gaze, even my own handmaidens appear infatuated by you. If only they knew it would never be reciprocated."
They jested often of the position they found themselves in, she knew he had Joffrey to warm his bed each night, and Rhaenyra found her own solas of thinking about the her charming prince each night as she laid alone, dreaming of when he would finally return to King's Landing, and wisp her off from her feet.
"Oh. My heart would ache without all the attention. I would have to seek it elsewhere, the street of silk perhaps." Laenor smirked "I hear there was much to discuss at today's council meeting, and that a new dragonrider has entered the fold."
Rhaenyra reached out towards the basket and grabbed a single grape, and proceeded to place it in Laenor's mouth, to which he held it between his teeth and pulled a wide smile.
"The council dragged on as it always does, but you are right. Aerion has taken our great-grandfather's old mount, Vermithor." Rhaenyra said "How did you come to learn of this?"
Laenor bit down on the grape, and then filled a mug of the honeyed wine they brought with them, and took a sip before handing it across to Rhaenyra, to which she accepted.
"One must never reveal such secrets, my love." Laenor said.
He looked so serious for a moment, almost convincing Rhaenyra before he broke into laughter that filled the gardens. Rhaenyra smacked her hand across his leg playfully, and rolled her eyes.
"I jest, cousin." he continued "Lord Beesbury proves himself often to be the biggest gossip if you are friendly enough with the man. I was stuck in a conversation that lasted four hours just the other day, he was telling me how he met his wife, I am just glad he fell asleep, I fear he'd have kept me there the night."
At that moment, a few of the noblewomen passed through the gardens, and Rhaenyra pushed herself upward and took the initiative to place her lips upon that of her husbands. He was shocked at first, but once he understood her reasons, he fell into the kiss and they continued until the last of them passed through.
Laenor broke away quickly, and turned his head as he ran a finger across his lips. He let out a deep breath which was followed by a quick chuckle as he turned back, and intertwined his fingers with her own as she laid her head back down on her husband's thigh.
"Do you think it was perhaps too obvious?" he asked.
She shook her head, and lifted their intertwined hand and placed a peck upon his finger, and then laid them down comfortably at her stomach.
"The nobles must believe we are infatuated with each other, that we love one another, it will mask the true parentage of our future children." Rhaenyra whispered to him. "I know you must not like it, and I promise this facade will not be forever, once we move to Dragonstone, you'll be allowed to traverse freely around the castle, and even visit Driftmark more often."
"It is no lie, Rhaenyra, you have my love. Even if it may not be as a man should love his wife." Laenor frowned, rubbing his hand across her stomach "Have you been seen by the maester as of late?"
"Grand Maester Mellos insists that it is too early to know." Rhaenyra pouted "I just want to get the waiting over and done with. Aerion may not be made in King's Landing for many moons yet, what am I to do if the gods have not graced me with a child?"
"Then we shall sit and wait for his eventual return, Rhaenyra, you do not need to be with child so soon. Let us enjoy our marriage before we are felled by a screaming child." Laenor said.
"I must secure my succession, Laenor." Rhaenyra urged "Even now, Alicent and her lickspittles whisper behind my back to the lords and ladies of the realm and attempt to destroy my claim to the throne. I will not see her son take what is rightfully mine."
Laenor slipped out from beneath her and rose back up to his feet, wiping down his knees before pulling her back up also. They wrapped their arms and proceeded back into the Red Keep.
"Your succession is important, I won't deny that." Laenor whispered "That does not mean it must constantly be on our minds, we should still be allowed to enjoy our youth. If you happen to be with a child, that is wonderful. But let us not worry if you are not, at least for now."
She kept silent, refusing to make it an argument between the two of them on their differing views, they reached the end of the hallway, and stood through the door that led into the courtyard, with Laenor soon kissing her on her cheek.
"I had promised Jory that we would go fishing, there is a lake nearby from here which is quiet, and provides us with some time to enjoy each other's company, but I shall return before the meal with your father and Queen Alicent." Laenor assured her.
She returned the kiss to his cheek.
"So long as you do, I can not think to be alone with the venomous snake. My father barely speaks at these meals now, he just sits there and watches our arguing unfold, there used to be time he'd step between us." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes "I just want to give him a peaceful meal, she would not dare speak up with you present."
Aerion II
Vermithor let out a roar that ripped through the very air it passed through, a shaky sound that would put fear through the hearts of anyone who might hear it. Aerion still held onto the reins tightly and chained himself to the dragon to make sure he did fall, but he felt his connection with the beast grow each day.
"Embrot! Vermithor." Aerion commanded in their ancient tongue.
He pointed out the Eyrie as it came further into view past the mountains of the moon, the castle was made from a fine white stone, with seven towers bunched tightly together. Vermithor landed down in the courtyard, letting out another ferocious roar before settling and allowing Aerion to climb down from him.
It had been over a century since Queen Visenya flew to the Eyrie, straight past the great host that the Arryn's had massed and into the same courtyard where he stood now. His ancestor had made the Eyrie surrender at the sight of her great beast, and the prince wondered what perhaps Lady Jeyne would do for him now he also has a dragon of his own.
The prince sat down at the base of Vermithor's neck and extended out his legs awaiting for someone to finally greet him. Three guards came through the doors with their swords unsheathed, dressed in their steel plated armour with their cloaks, blue as the sky, draped across their shoulders, but looked as if they were about to shit their breeches at the sight of a dragon.
"Sheathe those bloody swords, you twats!" a voice yelled out.
Aerion was amused by the whole ordeal, neither their swords or plated armour did anything to set fear with him, rather he felt pity for them, to think they could go up against a dragon and his rider without being burned to a crisp.
The man passed the guards and nervously stood before the prince. Aerion remembered him from his last stay at the Eyrie, Horton Moore, he was a sluggish old man with thinning hair and a shaven beard, who had served as the steward to the Eyrie since before Lady Jeyne's father had passed seventeen years prior.
"How glad I am that you have graced the halls of the Eyrie once more, my prince. It feels like only yesterday I witnessed the maester pluck you from your mother's womb." Horton said "I shall personally escort you to Lady Jeyne, she will be most pleased to see you as well."
The prince felt nauseous at the man's words, but it turned to a brief chuckle as the man flinched at the turn of Vermithor's head, and the bearing of his teeth. Aerion rose to his feet and stepped towards him, and grinned as he kneel down at his feet, his hands still shaking from the fear.
"Rise up, Horton. I do not want to remain in your presence any longer than I have to." Aerion replied.
He gestured for the man to get back to his feet, and placed a firm hand on the pommel his sword as Horton took his time, though what could be expected from someone who looked old enough to be his grandfather's father.
The prince was escorted through the corridors of the Eyrie, and each chamber they walked through provided him with many memories from his youth, such as when Jeyne chased him through the halls trying her best to tickle him to his breaking point, though she never could catch him.
The Eyrie was the smallest out of the great castles across the realm, however its beauty was far ahead of those, and was only comparable to Dragonstone, though they were polar opposites to each other.
He gained the attention of other nobles as they passed through the Crescent Chamber, where refreshments and the warmth of fire kept those awaiting an audience comfortable, they whispered of the news that was spreading quickly across the realm, his victory at Runestone as well as the death of his cousin by his dragon's flames.
The large wooden doors opened for him and that was when he laid his eyes upon Lady Jeyne Arryn on her throne, which was carved from a heart tree, and said to reveal the true nature of those that ascended to seat upon it.
The chamber, known as the high hall, was long and austere, with walls made of blue-veined white marble, and decorated with rows of slim fluted pillars and large blue carpets, sewn from myrish silk.
It had narrow, arched windows, and between each were torches mounted upon high silver sconces. In the centre of the hall was the Moon Door, a narrow door made from weirwood that stood between two slender pillars, with a crescent moon carved into its door, and opened inwards, barred from three heavy bronze bars, and opened to reveal a long drop below.
"Prince Aerion Targaryen." she announced "I welcome you back to the Eyrie."
Her voice echoed throughout the great hall. He could see the smile she held as they met each other for the first time in three long years, though she stood more beautiful than the last time he set her eyes on her. Jeyne's auburn hair was wound into a single long braid, and she dressed in the finest blue dress.
"Prince Aerion Targaryen." he mimicked her "Since when were you one to use my titles?… please, we have known each other long enough to skip the formalities."
She rose from her seat and stepped elegantly down the steps and walked to him. As she came close, Aerion leaned slightly forward, and held her hand up to his lips and planted a small peck on her golden ring, before cupping his hands over her own.
"Must I say, you have grown more beautiful than I could have imagined, no longer do you have such a boyish face." he smirked "I jest, ofcourse."
"Trust you to make me blush, Aerion." she smirked "It warms my heart to know that war has not taken that innocence I see in your eye, that perhaps the cheeky boy I grew up with is still somewhere within."
Aerion gazed across to the weirwood throne once more, and noticed the lady who stood behind it, he had no doubt it was Lady Jeyne's companion, Jessamyn Redfort, who shared both his father and brother's look, and no doubt their strong will.
"Come, let us dine and you can tell us of your overwhelming victories in recent years." Jeyne said.
She intertwined their arms and led him through the halls and down the steps into the Lower Hall, in which there were a dozen tables, but only one had been prepared for them with food and wine.
"I do not wish to lower the mood, Aerion, but I must know what is happening in the kingdom. I can not have my lords questioning my authority if they learn there are issues with my strongest vassal." Jeyne said.
He was surprised that she spoke so soon without taking a seat at the table first. Aerion poured himself a mug of wine and took a long sip, as she waited.
"I must agree with you." Aerion said "What is it you wish to know?"
"My cousin, Arnold Arryn." she began "Why is it that I am hearing that he has something to do with your recent conflict in the recapturing of Runestone from the traitor, Ser Gerold Royce?"
Aerion smirked. It was a great comfort to know that Jeyne saw his cousin as a traitor just as much as she did, for one that has been betrayed by her own kin, she knew how it broke the heart to know they would do such a thing.
"We can't know anything for certain, but at the moment, the path is leading towards him being responsible." Aerion said "Runestone's coffers are empty, we can expect he'll use my family's wealth to launch an invasion from Essos should he find the right time to strike. I recommend fortifying our ports, stationing men on the coastal villages, and building many watchtowers to raise the alarm in case of attack."
"Thought long and hard about this, have you? Already so eager to have your blade bloodied soon after your recent victory." Jeyne said.
"My loyalty to the Vale and to your house should never be questioned, I will see no foreign army take control over my home, and with Vermithor, it is something only a madman will do, but we still must be cautious, as my council will never seize to remind me." Aerion replied.
Aerion took another sip from his wine, keeping his eyes focused on Jeyne, and watching her own movements.
"How is the Arryn host fairing near Snakewood, I come to understand you have been fighting against the persistent Mountain clan attacks there." Aerion asked "Which is why you could not come to my aid. Should you require the assistance of Vermithor and I, you only need to ask."
"They have cowered back into the mountains, as they always do eventually." Jeyne replied "I was to send a raven commanding the host to disband, but following your suggestion, I will split and send them to the various coastal villages."
The prince tapped his hand on the table as he pondered.
"The time has come, Jeyne." Aerion said "Let our two houses unite against our common foes, and we fulfil the arranged marriage made by my grandfather when we were only children, not long out of mother's wombs."
"I must admit that in recent months, this has been on my mind." Jeyne responded "But what do you say to the Lords that have been against this match? that say it is simply an attempt from House Targaryen to gain further power in the Vale, and weaken my own."
"The firstborn son of this union, when they ascend as Lord of the Eyrie, shall take your name, and any other child we may have, shall take mine." he countered "That should alleviate the Lord's concern."
"Would you make a further promise?" Jeyne asked.
Aerion placed down his cup and leaned against the chair, and gestured for her to continue.
"When the second-born, should we be graced with another, succeeds you as Lord of Runestone, they shall have the name of Royce, and continue on the house of your mother." Jeyne said "Runestone has belonged to House Royce for thousands of years, there are many who are outraged that you have not taken on your mother's name, even after ascending."
The prince rose from his chair, and raised his cup, awaiting for Jeyne to do the same, and with a smirk on his lips, he proudly said,
"I agree."
