Chapter I: Of the Living and the Dead
A runner bolting on his steed
With reins clenched tight and head uncover'd
A speck arising, growth in sight
The horizons are for him too tight
With ravens croaking close behind and flapping by
To Baelor King he brings a brief dispatch
From battlefield. And hidden low
In soaking togs
The hero worthiest of them all
The only sign of battle fall
And it sufficed
It's Daeron dead! On foreign land
Brought down by wicked hand
His lovely garment white appears
But blood is dripping like red tears
And the bare chest of the now dead
By lances is impaled
Daeron is dead, who rode the dunes?
How was he killed by wicked knaves
How die the cowards if the braves
Perish like this?
And you , who always burned to fight
Lie now and lost your might
You laughed at Stranger day and night
But He prevailed
In silver casket now you lay
Full armor, honors to convey
Blues skies would tremor under feet
When Gods you meet *
Aemon – Blackhaven
After more than a moon's turn spent in Wyl's cage, Aemon was once again free. Not free in the general understanding of the word, but on his way to it. Word came to Wyl from his brother Baelor, who offered his hostages in exchange for the Dragonknight. Even the cruel Lord of Wyl, so eager for vengeance against one of dragonkin, would not wager the life of his kin to satisfy his need for blood. The fact that to refuse the release of Ser Aemon Targaryen would ensure the enmity of several other Dornish houses, whose kin were graciously housed in the black cells of the Red Keep, most obviously played its part.
Weeks spent under the scorching sun of Dorne, with wounds barely treated, left Aemon in a state of weakness. But as Blackhaven approached, instead of having his heart lightened, its burdens seemed to grow heavier. The guilt and despair of failed duty seemed now to loom more threatening, and as much as he welcomed his release, he feared facing the brother of his fallen king.
Daeron's bones had arrived at Blackhaven a week before and had been delivered in the hands of the King's men and sent on towards King's Landing. His funeral rites would wait until King Baelor made his way back to the capital.
The exchange of prisoners happened beneath the walls of the Dondarrion seat. The fear of Dornish treachery saw King Baelor surrounded by what quite seemed to be the entire valor of the Marches. It is not to be said that the Dornish came few, for two hundred men accompanied Lord Wyl and the envoys of the Prince of Dorne. But under the glowering eyes of the Stormlanders, their numbers seemed barely a dozen, and the Dornish lances looked uneasily and almost spooked.
Vows were taken before the gods, solemn promises of drawing no swords and shedding no blood, under pain of damnation. The fact that the Stormlords view the Dornish vows as nought, but a farce escaped no one's attention. **
King Baelor bade his men to bring forth his fourteen captives, and the Dornish brought forth Aemon. The hostages were delivered, and Baelor himself helped Aemon of his horse and helped him towards his men.
His feverish attempt to ask for Baelor's forgiveness for his failure were met with an entreaty to silence. "Rest now, cousin, for matters such as these can await your better health. But be assured, that the fault lies not in you, but in those who break the Seven' own bond, the truce of gods. Go see the master, and let your heart lighten, for my wrath is not for you, but for trucebreakers and those who deceive the gods."
The king then turned to the Dornish envoys. "Lord Wyl, a word, if you will. It is good to know you value your kin so much that you forfeit your own life."
As the Lord Wyl reached for his sword, fearful for his life, Baelor reassured him. "I am no such sinner before the gods as the break parley as you once did, for I walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous. But know this, that only my cousin's captivity stayed my hand against your house, and by giving Ser Aemon his freedom, you have unchained me and allowed me to see your affronts to the Seven punished. Sleep easy, 'till you have cause, and pray for your deliverance from the Seven Hells. For the wicked will be cut off from the earth, and the treacherous will be torn away from it." **
And with these words, Baelor turned his horse, the deed was done, and Aemon exchanged the hold of his captors, for his new ones, for the King had brought with him a dozen healers, and he would not escape their hands for a fortnight.
Viserys – The Red Keep
The news of Daeron's death had so enraged the Lord Hand, that he ordered the Dornish hostages to be sent to the Black Cells to await their hanging.
Such orders were soon countermanded by the new king. For all that Viserys ruled in the absence of the King, his actions were ruled by ravens. Ravens from Oldtown, ravens from Highgarden, from Cider Hall, from Blackhaven.
Baelor sent word to stay the executions, Baelor sent word to halt Daeron's marriage negotiations with Braavos, to recall the envoys in expectance of new ones, with new instructions. Words were sent to see to the readiness of Daena's dowry, a strange request, since Baelor just halted the negotiations for her hand. Instruction came to see that the realm's levies and fleets be kept ready, for siege engines to be built in their multitude.
Baelor's ravens were followed by Viserys' own. On black wings, words were sent to the High Lords of the Seven Kingdoms, summoning them for the coronation of the new King and oaths of fealty.
Baelor's plans were soon unveiled, for word came for the hostages to be sent to Blackhaven. Viserys' would have raged at His Grace's plans for peace, if his messages had not made clear that he meant but to secure Aemon's release, not to leave the Dornish unpunished. It seemed the King's piousness inclined him not to peace, for he saw Daeron's murder an affront to the Seven.
Ravens were soon followed by more preparations, for the funerals of Daeron and the coronation were to put in place. The new Septon and his gaggle of the Most Devout arrived from Oldtown, and Viserys was thankful that the unfortunate circumstances allowed Baelor to prevent the election of the wretched Abelar, that Hightower spawn. Being a Hightower was one thing but there were rumors of some youthful follies of him with some septa named Eloyse. What good would a High Septon be, if he could not even keep his vows of chastity? ***
Contrary to the established traditions of House Targaryen and given the state of the body of the Young Dragon, Baelor had sent word that he should not be incinerated, rather that he be entombed in the Royal sept, beneath the statue of the Warrior, but only once he arrived in King's Landing. Already, master carvers had been entrusted to carve his likeness in stone, his youth retained in its eternal embrace.
Baelor had arranged the commission of a crown, for that of the Conqueror was lost in Dorne. It was to be made of a circlet of gold encrusted with rubies and polished dragonglass, with seven sharp spike of iron and two bands over the head, a seven-pointed star above them.
Several moons would occupy such festivities and preparations for war and then the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms would once again fix themselves upon Dorne, and lords and knights and men-at-arms would once again march to war.
Notes:
* A translation and adaption of the poem "Moartea lui Fulger" by George Cosbuc.
** I have made some variation of the medieval Peace and Truce of God. As such, in Seven-worshipping Westeros, truces are established by swearing vows before the Seven to not use weapons, draw blood and the like. The fact that it is broken is an affront to the gods and a mortal sin.
*** Qoutes from Proverbs, as expected.
**** I had chosen the name Abelar for the Most Devout from a list of historical Hightowers. I only later realised the likeness in name. But Heloise does not exist in Planetos. The whole "youthful folly" are rumours made by Baelor to discredit him, and a sort of cosmic joke that Baelor had allowed himself to play. Viserys believes it to be truth of course, since he heard it from Baelor's own mouth, and he doesn't expect the kid to lie.