Jaehaerys II 92AC
The beautiful bright blue waters of Tarth did little to distract Jaehaerys from the impending confrontation between the crown and some worthless raiders from across the Narrow Sea.
Vermithor, now the Bronze Fury and no longer the little docile dragon that had once been able to sleep in bed with the King, let out a vicious roar.
Vhagar and Caraxes followed suit and soon all that could be heard was the battle cry of the House of the Dragon.
Ha. Jaehaerys thought to himself. Hopefully those savages are quaking in their boots.
Jaehaerys turned and glanced back at Aemon. The King pointed his hand down towards the small isle that had come into view.
"Descend Aemon!" he cried out as he smacked his whip into Vermithor's armored side, urging the Bronze Fury down from the peace and order of the sky and into the chaos of war.
"Rise, Lord Cameron," Jaehaerys beckoned with his hand for the Evenstar to stand.
The battle camp that the Lord of Tarth had requested they meet at in the middle of the isle's mountains was certainly not a place of luxury yet its simplicity was practical for the task at hand which was something that Jaehaerys could appreciate. It also made it much easier with the dragons, who were currently frolicking around the mountains of Tarth like rabbits in a garden.
"My King," the Evenstar looked at Jaehaerys with stern blue eyes as he and his men rose to their feet. "I and all of Tarth thank you and your sons the Princes for assisting us in driving back these cursed Essosi pirates once and for all!"
"I am Protector of the Realm, my Lord," Jaehaerys smiled. "No point in having the title if I was not willing to protect the Realm."
Lord Cameron let out a booming laugh at the King's half attempt at a jape.
"That's what I want to hear, your Grace," he clapped Jaehaerys on the back, "I want to see those bastards taste dragon fire! Come, let me show you around camp for a moment before we begin discussing strategies."
"Very well," Jaehaerys replied.
"How many are there currently on Tarth, my Lord?" Baelon asked as the group of Lord Cameron, the King, two Princes and several Tarth guardsmen directed the Targaryen party to their tents.
"On the island itself I'd say no more than a hundred maximum," Lord Cameron stated. "But who knows how many of them are out there on the Narrow Sea."
"The Royal Fleet has been dispatched to search the waters surrounding Tarth for pirate ships," Jaehaerys retorted. "As has the fleet of my granddaughter's husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon. If the Gods are good these will be the last Essosi invaders to step foot on your lands, my Lord."
"My goodson has been instructed to show no mercy," Aemon added darkly. "And if a vessel or two should somehow slip between his fingers then I assure you, Lord Cameron, that my brother and I will have no qualms about setting our dragons on them."
"Vhagar could use a little fun," Baelon laughed. "She's been restless. Surely burning a few ships would settle her down!"
Jaehaerys smiled at the exchange between his sons. They were grown men now, husbands and fathers, yet it seemed that only yesterday Aemon and Baelon were the small children that he and Alysanne tucked into bed. The years had flown by fast but Jaehaerys' sons were still as close as brothers could be, much to his delight.
It was the shout of a guardsman that snapped Jaehaerys out of his thoughts. The Tarth man was pointing to a giant black boulder that bordered the edge of the campside. Squinting, Jaehaerys could make out a helmet and an arm of someone attempting to hide.
"They're pirates!" he heard a shout as Lord Cameron, Aemon and Baelon drew their swords. "Protect Lord Tarth!"
Jaehaerys reached for his own sword, but his hands felt heavy as he struggled to grip the pommel correctly. Time began to slow and his body, once young and strong, felt weary.
The King looked back towards the boulder. Where there had once been a helmet, there was now an Essosi man, clad in dark clothing, aiming a loaded crossbow right in their direction.
Terror filled Jaehaerys' stomach as he stared, motionless, at the Essosi. This was how the Gods wished him to die then.
"Tarth Lord you die!" the Essosi screeched in broken Common.
The bolt fired. Jaehaerys closed his eyes.
A loud thump of a body falling echoed through his brain. But he was still standing.
Bewildered, Jaehaerys opened his eyes to the sight of his second son lying sprawled in the dirt.
"Baelon?" he cried out, ignoring the sounds of the guardsmen chasing after the Essosi pirate. "No… no this cannot be happening!"
But before he could truly register that his second son was dead, Baelon was somehow pushing himself off the ground.
"What?" Jaehaerys stuttered, but Baelon paid him no attention.
"You fucking idiot!" he screamed, looking to his father's left before rushing over. "Why?" Baelon shouted. "Why did you push me!"
Jaehaerys turned his head. "Oh," he whispered softly, finally broken out of his stupor.
Aemon. Beautiful, brave, ever loyal Aemon.
Blood coated his armor as it dripped down from where the crossbow bolt had lodged itself in his neck. His chest still moved slowly in shallow breaths.
His body was held in Baelon's arms, his head resting against his brother's chest and the purple eyes that met his father's were full of pain and fear.
"Oh, Aemon," Jaehaerys knelt down and grabbed his son's hand.
"It should've been me," Baelon murmured, his eyes filled with tears. "It was supposed to be me. But it will be fine, Lord Cameron left to get the Maester, it will be fine."
Aemon weakly shook his head. He squeezed Jaehaerys' hand before turning his head up to his brother. "Rhaenys," Aemon rasped, as more blood poured out of his neck. "Help her…" he coughed roughly. "Baelon… do right… Rhaenys."
"I will brother," Baelon vowed. "I promise I will."
Aemon gave a weak smile. His older son was only one of his children or grandchildren to inherit the smile of Jahaerys' dead brother Aegon. And now his son, along with that smile, was about to vanish from the world forever.
"Caraxes," Aemon let out a scratchy shout that caused him to double over in a vicious cough.
The shout hadn't been loud, but it clearly was enough for the Blood Wyrm to recognize a call from his master, and soon the red dragon emerged from the sky, descending rapidly before crashing on top of a tent that was hopefully unoccupied.
Caraxes slowly made his way over to his rider, doing his best to be careful but still managing to knock over dozens of items as he plopped himself down, his long neck bending down so that he could rest his head next to Aemon.
Jaehaerys' son reached out a sickly pale hand to stroke one of Caraxes horns. Aemon smiled.
He closed his eyes, and then his hand went slack. The Prince of Dragonstone was dead.
But as Jaehaerys listened to the sobs of his living son and Caraxes' anguished roars he couldn't help but wonder, much to his shame, about how long he had until the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms demanded he name a new one.