Chapter Text
Aerion sat on the chair in his chambers, Rodrik was discussing the travel plans back to Runestone while a maester sat beside him, redressing the wound.
His mind was elsewhere however, all he could focus on was his moment with Rhaenyra, he replayed in his head on repeat, wondering if he could have done better, though their kiss was better than he could have imagined.
"A ship will be leaving on the morrow, carrying cargo to Gulltown, I have spoken to the captain, and he has granted us passage on his ship." Rodrik said, clicking his fingers in front of Aerion, drawing his attention back to the room "We should arrive within the fortnight."
Aerion tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, shaking his head "There is still so much that I have not experienced in Kings' Landing." he continued "You will travel alone, I will join you after my cousin's wedding ceremonies."
"My prince, your mother must be put to rest." Ser Rodrik answered in disbelief, his face turning cold "Surely that is more important than a wedding."
Aerion flinched as the maester ran a wet cloth over his wound, clenching his fists, he found no trust with the maester, he glared at the man "Apologies, my prince." Aerion shook his head, turning back to Rodrik.
"I disagree, Ser Rodrik, it is important I remain to secure more alliances with the lords who will be attending." He said "Besides, the dead are hardly going anywhere." he replied coldly, smirking as Rodrik gave him a horrified look.
"Is that what she is worth to you?" he shook his head in disappointment "I understand that you longed to know your family here, but they do not care for you as she did, where were they the entire sixteen years you were in the Vale?"
"My mother barely raised me, Rodrik." he replied "I loved her, truly I did, and I hope she is at peace now, but it was you who put a sword in my hand on my fifth nameday.."
"Aerion.."
"Where was my mother then?" he asked "She went hunting, it was the maesters that taught me history and philosophy, the maids that played with me and bathed me." he took a deep breath "As I said, she did not raise me."
"She is still your mother, Aerion." Rodrik replied "despite her faults, and whether you like it or not, you are the future of Runestone, it is time to go back and take your rightful seat as its' Lord."
"I need you to travel to the Vale, Rodrik." Aerion responded "Lay my mother to rest." He turned to the maester, and was mindful that ears were everywhere in the red keep, and that he wasn't to be trusted, so he waved his hand towards him, gesturing for him to leave, which he did swiftly.
As the doors closed, Aerion turned to Rodrik "Protect my seat while I am here, I only intend to stay after the wedding ceremonies, then I will return."
"And what of your mother's cousin, Ser Gerold?" Rodrik brings up.
"What of him?"
"I expect he will attempt to claim your seat should you remain here in Kings' Landing." Rodrik responds, Gerold Royce's ambition was well known to him, he felt slighted ever since she became Lady of Runestone, believing it should have belonged to him.
Aerion wished Gerold would try something, it would rid him of a title he did not, though he could be seen as weak for not preventing, and he refused to appear in such a manner, what would the histories say about him if he allowed Gerold to usurp what belonged to him.
"Then it falls to you to ensure he does not, Rodrik." he lowered his tone until it was a faint whisper "I need something else from you." Rodrik then leaned in closer towards him, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"I need more information on my mothers' passing, it seems too unlikely that she died in a hunting mishap, something else is at play here." Aerion tapped his fingers once more against the arm of the chair "Do you disagree?" he asked, as Rodrik's eyes widened.
"I do not know, my prince." Rodrik thought for a moment "though I will investigate once I return to Runestone."
"Good, and should we learn that she was murdered." he clenched his fists "I will bring those responsible to justice, and they'll feel an excruciating pain in their final hours on this earth."
"I will leave you so I might prepare for my departure, we will speak before I leave." he bowed his head, soon leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
A few hours passed, and Aerion found himself having trouble getting to sleep, he feared that he may be placed back into his nightmare, so he decided to spend the night in the courtyard.
The midnight sky had darkened his surroundings, and the moon hid above the clouds, guards were still on watch on the battlements above near to the entrance of the Red Keep.
He could still remember the excruciating pain he had suffered as he was bathed in dragonflame. It felt so real that he needed to know more about his nightmare, though he had no one to ask, especially who would understand.
Aerion practised his swordwork, twirling his bland around; his arm had still ached, however the pain was almost entirely gone, he slashed at the dummy in front of him numerous times, which was made out of straw, the sharpness of the blade cutting it to shreds.
"There you are." a voice called out from behind, causing Aerion to spin around, and he was met with a familiar face "And here I thought you had died, glad to see you have not." The man was Jory, with his brother, Rickard, closely behind him, both of them were out of their armour, yet still wore their golden cloaks with pride.
"You and me both." he said, looking back at Rickard "Good to see you again, big guy, I hope you have calmed down now." to which he simply received a grunt in response "Not much of talker, your brother, is he?" Aerion smirked, looking back to Jory.
"No, he really isn't, prefers his fists." Jory chuckled.
"Should you not be on duty? I would have thought you'd be keeping us nobles safe from the smallfolk." he smirked, sheathing his blade back into its slot on his belt.
"Well actually, we plan on kidnapping you, take you away from this gods' forsaken keep and showing you a night filled with fun in the city." Jory grinned, throwing a long black cloak at him "If you want to come, wear this; you will not be wanting to draw unwanted attention where we are heading."
Aerion caught hold of the cloak, taking in a whiff of its' bad odour, it smelt it had been laying in a pile of sheeps' shit "Where did you get this from? A shithouse?" He brought the cloak closer to his nose, and soon regretted that decision, wanting to puke.
"Stop complaining, and put it on already." Jory replied.
He walked up to him and unclipped Aerion's sword from his belt, though it left him quite amazed by the pair of them, seemingly having no care for his station and title, though he had heard it normal for northerners to not care much for the King in the south.
It had only been a century since they had their own king, Torrhen Stark, or more known as the King who knelt, though they were not the only one's, but considering they were the only kingdom who mainly worshipped the old gods, it was not surprising they had no love for a King who worships the faith of the seven.
"Someone will want to steal that sword of yours." Jory added "Luckily for you, no one will dare mess with Rickard, he'll keep it safe for you." he said, passing the sheathed sword to his brother.
It worried Aerion somewhat, not having a weapon to defend himself, and it did not help his nerves that he had never seen Jory and Rickard fight, he was putting his life in the hands of a pair of strangers, and it bothered him severely.
Aerion pulled his arms into each of the sleeves, and pulled the hood over his head, he could hardly see anything in front of him, though he assumed the reason it covered his eyes was because the lilac would be a giveaway to his identity.
Though it made him question why they should be forced to hide themselves from the people, the city was built by Aegon the conqueror and belonged to House Targaryen, why should he have to hide his face, while the city adored them.
He adjusted the hood so that he could see, a smirk covered Jory's mouth, and Aerion wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face "Let us go then." he said, looking back at the red keep before setting off.
Once they had left the walls of the red keep, there was a feeling of safety that Aerion no longer felt, and he was considerably nervous, at first, nothing had appeared to be different, the streets were clean, and all the buildings had looked similar, with the same sandy stone and orange rooftops, the majority of the city had cobblestone roads.
They came upon an older man giving a sermon to a large crowd of people, and Aerion had stopped for a moment to listen to what he might have to say, causing Jory and Rickard to also stop.
"It is they, my fellow man, the so-called lords and ladies who sit in their ivory towers and grand keeps who are the enemy, sitting by as the people grow hungry, and die of diseases that could otherwise be preventable." The speech was met with cheers of agreement.
"You allow them to speak about their liege like that?" he said, turning to Jory "I thought the Gold cloaks prevented this."
"There have been attempts in the past, though it came to a point where the Lord Commander decided these preachers were doing no harm." Aerion nodded as he explained, and they continued their journey.
The city appeared to be more alive at night as they passed even more crowds of people "How come so many people are still awake?" he asked, wondering why people had been out so late, noticing Jory resting his hand on his blade, and Aerion moved to copy the action, only to remember he did not have his sword.
"King's Landing tends to be more alive at night, most of the smallfolk have jobs during the day, so they tend to entertain each other under the cover of dark." he continued "Crime is at its highest now, Murders, Rapes, Thefts…you name it, it happens during the hour of the owl."
Aerion took note of this, continuing to look around at his surroundings as they continued to delve deeper into the city.
He began to notice small changes, as they down the alleyways, the buildings appeared to be less maintained, makeshift shacks had been set up, blocking some of the alleys around the city, and smallfolk dressed in rags and slept on the floor with blankets.
"Where are we?" Aerion asked, stepping over the smallfolk as they made their way to their destination.
"Flea Bottom, it is where the poorest in the city make their home, as well as the criminals." he shook his head "So much depravity happens here, you couldn't even imagine."
"And where exactly are we going?" he asked, lowering his voice "This doesn't exactly look like a place one would go for entertainment." he could feel himself getting glares by hooded figures as he passed, hearing whispers among them.
"You will see, we don't want to ruin the surprise." Aerion sighed at his reply, he was frequently on the watch, making sure no one was to sneak up on him, as he turned his head to look behind, he noticed three hooded figures following behind them, only a few metres between them.
"Give me my sword." he nudged Rickard, and he looked at him confused, not speaking a single word, though one more nudge from Aerion made him give back his blade, and he strapped it back to his belt, feeling much less nervous than he did with a weapon by his side.
As they reached the end of the alleyway, there was no other exit than the one they came through and Aerion could hear faint cheering coming from within the building on the far end, Jory knocked on the wooden door five times in a specific pattern, and it was answered by a gigantic bulky man with a scruffy grey beard that reached his belly button.
There was a strong whiff of fish that came from the man, and Aerion pinched his nose, turning away "We're full." the man said "If you wanna get in, you're gonna want to pay up." he said, extending his hand for payment.
Jory grabbed a pile of silver stags from the purse on his belt, and dropped them into the palm of the mans' hand who in return granted the three of them entrance.
They entered the building, and there was a large gathering around a pit with two full-grown men fighting each other, the three had managed to get a space at the wooden railing that looked down onto the fight, Jory and Rickard seemed more enthusiastic than Aerion, who couldn't help but have a bad taste in his mouth.
He had been to the fighting rings in Gulltown when he was a child, they were being hosted by House Grafton, and he and his friend, Corwyn Corbray, son of the Lord of House Corbray, had snuck out during the feast, he had convinced Corwyn to join him, the first and last time he used his fathers' name to get anything, claiming the boy would be punished for refusing him.
Aerion moved away from the pair, who were fixated on the fight, even placing bets, as he moved through the crowd, he was stopped by a server who handed him a mug of a liquid that had the same colouring as blood, as well as the thickness.
She did not ask for anything in return and moved onto the next person, he took the liquid to his lips and took a sip, it tasted both bitter and sweet, the flavour unlike anything he had ever tasted before, except for the hint of honey.
He found a clearing in the corner of the room, with an unoccupied seat, he planted himself down onto the chair, and took another sip from the mug, the second being much better than the first, the honey was more potent.
Aerion removed the hood from his head, brushing his hand through his hair, and it was not long before people started to notice him, being joined by a stranger soon after.
The woman had pale skin with green eyes, her hair had been midnight-black, and she dressed in a golden yellow tattered dress, her breasts visible beneath the silks, Aerion's gaze downwards from her face towards them.
She took a seat beside him, grabbing the mug from his hands, and took a sip for herself "Are you interested in what you see, dragon?" she faintly whispered in his ear.
"Well, they do stand out quite a bit." she trailed her fingers up his arms, across his back and planted her hand gently upon his shoulder, causing Aerion to shuffle away from her, her hand falling behind him "It does not mean I want you touching me, only the gods know where you must have been."
"I've always wanted a dragon…I suppose every woman has." he flinched as he felt her hand trickle it's way up his leg, the corner of her lips pressing against his ear, the warmth of her breath trailing down his face
"Have you ever made love?" she asked, and Aerion found himself regretting the removal of his hood, understanding now what Jory meant by drawing the wrong kind of attention. "It is okay if you have not…I can teach you."
"People often want what they can never have.." he whispered back to her, and she guided her way towards his lips, and as they were about to connect, he gave her a smirk "I do not need a whore to satisfy my hunger.." he slapped her hand away from him, and rose from the chair.
He left her there and began to walk through the crowd, searching for Jory and Rickard, though he could not find them where he had left them, and even when he climbed on a table, he could see them among the crowd.
Aerion headed towards the entrance, thinking that they may be waiting for him outside, he gave a simple nod to the man guarding the door, who slammed it on his way.
He looked around the immediate area and spotted the same three hooded men who had followed them there, one was positioned at the end of the alleyway to his left, and the other positioned directly in front of him, and the third position just to the right of him.
Looking between them, he placed his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly, and he tried his best not to show his nervousness, he looked directly to the man ahead of him "What do you want?" he asked, the man's face hidden beneath the hood, the only feature he could see was a scar running along the mans' neck.
"That is a nice sword you got ya'." the man stepped closer, tilting his head as he looked to the blade "We'll take it off ya' hands, and keep it safe." he waved over to his two companions, who each grabbed out makeshift axes, which was just a sharp rock strapped onto a thick stick.
"Hand it on over, and you won't get hurt." another said, and Aerion was positioned against a wall as they blocked his exit, he had no choice but to defend himself, as they continued towards him, he unsheathed his sword, extending it towards them.
"I warn you, this is not a path you want to walk down." Aerion responded, receiving no answer in return, they each reached for their axes, he had to act now, he looked to the one to his right, who was the closest to him, swiftly digging the tip of his blade into his chest.
The man fell down onto the floor as he pulled it out from his chest, blood covered his blade, he looked to the others, who seemed less confident than before, moving to his right and stepping over the man's dying body, removing himself from against the wall.
A burning feeling began to throb in Aerion's chest as he looked to the remaining pair, clenching his fist tighter on the handle, one of them launched at him, waving his axe around like an amateur, he was no longer worried or nervous when he saw the man's skill, it was as if he'd never held a weapon in his hand before.
Aerion moved his body around the attacks like a snake, slipping away, refusing to launch his own attack, he was enjoying the level of desperation from the man, the other of the pair seemingly just stood there as the fight was taking place, Aerion then smacked the axe out of his hand, as it connected with his blade, separating the handle of the axe from the head.
Aerion slashed open the man's stomach; blood poured quickly down onto the ground, he pushed the man onto the floor, then kneeled over him, he looked back up and the third man had disappeared, abandoning the fight, he looked back down and the man was screeching in pain, scratching at Aerion's face and neck in attempt to free himself.
He squeezed until he heard a pop, blood splattered his face and the man's body became lifeless, Aerion began to punch without control at the man's face, he was angry, someone had the audacity to attack him, a lowlife of all things, not a knight, or a lord, just a pathetic nobody from Flea Bottom.
All that could be heard was the faint voices of those he knew, though he could not make sense of what they were saying, a rage had taken over him where he continued to strike at the lifeless body, until he was forcefully pulled from the ground.
He resisted whoever was pulling him away "Stop..fuckin..resisting." the voice spoke "Its' Jory." he said, letting go of him and Aerion immediately snapped out of it, breathing heavily before his fist had connected with Jory's face.
"Where were you?!" he pushed him away, and he stepped towards the wall and rested his back against it, falling to the ground, his hands shook as he looked down to them, smothered in the blood of his victims.
He had lost control, something he promised himself he would not do, yet only a week in Kings' Landing, and already he had the blood of three people on his hands, and felt no remorse, only anger at how it was done.
As he looked at his hands further, for the first time he hated the sight of the blood, looking away and back up towards Jory "We went to look for you, and you just disappeared." he explained "then we heard the screams, though we did not expect to find you out here."
Jory stepped over the dead bodies, leaning down to Aerion and then lifting his head up at his brother "Get two of the newest recruits to clear this mess up, I will get the prince back to the keep before someone else sees him."
He patted Aerion on the shoulder before rising back up, and extending a hand, which he accepted, lifting up from the ground "Hide your face, and follow me." he said, grabbing Aerion's blade from the ground and passing it to him.
As they made their journey back to the Keep, Aerion was noticing the look of concern he was receiving from Jory, and questioned him on it "What?" he asked.
"What exactly happened back there?" Jory replied, grabbing one of his gloves tucked in his belt and wiping Aerion's face from the blood splatters.
"They wanted my sword." he replied "and attacked me for it, I did what I had to do to protect myself."
"Right, well I would not like to be you when someone asks you where you got the scars."
"They'll just think I got them from the duel." he rubbed the arm of his cloak along his neck, wiping the blood from the scars "Perhaps on the next outing I won't come back covered in blood." both of them chuckled