Chapter Text
There comes in every man's life where he must admit the truth to himself, no matter how grim or dark that truth may be.
Now was such a time, Criston Cole believed, as he admitted the cold, hard inescapable truth to himself.
"I'm in deep shit"
The little shit's tantrum had all but assured his death.
He'd accused Criston of fucking the Princess, of deliberate cruelty to her sons and of one day killing a favoured and loyal member of the Kingsguard and declaring Prince Aegon as King.
All the accusations of actions that he'd already taken were true. Fuck
For a moment, Criston felt hope that this entire debacle would clearly be seen as a drunk child spouting off the contents of their nightmares.
(He did enjoy the absolute savage tirade Rhaenyra got, that was fun)
Surely saner heads would prevail?
Then he remembered he was dealing with fucking Targaryen's.
Double Fuck
Not even the queen would be able to save him, given that she's all but admitted to having the previous Lord hand and his son murdered.
'Well, at least I'm not only one getting fucked'
Criston is dimly aware of Prince Aenar mentioning something about a Song Of Ice And Fire before the King collapses and the princess (Lover, object of his defections, spoiled cunt) starts wailing, and then he's promply faced with the realisation that the King and princess believe this to be true.
Lady Rhaenys murmurs quitely, but in the relative quote of the room her voice may as well echo "Gods, he's a dreamer"
For a moment, he feels incredulous indignation, then he dimly tempers something about a….. A Targaryen lady who helped her house escape the Doom of Valyria by virtue of...
Criston paled, because godsdammit he was no longer in deep shit, he'd sunk to the bottom of shit lake and hit shit bedrock. Apparently these fuckers see the future now, what the fuck is it with Targaryen's, is riding dragons not enough!?"
The Laenor Velaryon stumbled in, drunk out of his mon and promptly gained the moniker of "Dumb Fuck"
Honestly, Criston wanted to nod in agreement, he was dead anyway.
The room descended into chaos, accusations being tossed around and he edged closer to Lord Otto. He was essentially his only chance here, and given that Otto's position was only marginally better than his, well….
Please, gods be kind and aid him in this dark hour
"See Criston" Prince Aenar spoke, voice heavy with drink and the commotion once more stilled.
Oh shit
Slowly, Criston turned to stare at the prince.
"You fucked my sister, abandoned her for my mother, and now your probably thinking of throwing your lot in with my grandfather, aren't you?
Criston wonders which of if not all of the gods he pissed off to deserve this.
"See, the last few years" Prince Aenar hiccuped "I've been trying to do this the civilised, enlightened way. But clearly, you people only speak asshole, and unfortunately for you, I've just mastered the language."
Self preservation instincts kicked in, and he threw himself to the side just as the Prince roared "dracarys!"
A veritable tidal wave of flame washed over where he once stood, and he on lept to his feet to yank of his burning cloak as everything went to all the seven hells all at once.
With a scream of rage, Prince Jacaerys charged Aemond, who lept over the overturned table in his haste to get away.
Meanwhile, Lady Baela rounded on the now barley awake Prince Aegon with a look of grieving fury on her face screaming "You killed my dragon!"
Prince Lukerys was right there with her "You killed my Mother!"
Aegon took one look at the homicidal rage on their expressions and decided that discretion was the better part of valor as he high tailed it out of the room, Baela, Lukerys and Rhaena hot on his heels.
His fellow Kingsguards were centered around the collapsed and wailing king, while the Velaryon guards were defending Lord Corlys from.... His wife? The fuck?
He would have stopped to wonder what all that was about, but he was far too busy jumping left and right like a court jester to avoid the waves of flame the beast from hell was spitting at him!
"Go Stormchaser!" Prince Aenar cheered, before booing at Criston "Hold still you assclown!"
Then the flames sputtered out, and he almost wept with relief as it appeared the dragon had finally tired itself out.
A slight hissing sound behind him, and only instinct saved his life as he ducked. Well over a foot and a half of valyrian steel sailed through the space his head once occupied, and Criston while around, actual fear in his eyes as he beheld the quietly enraged Rogue Prince.
"So, Crispin, Was it?" the deadliest man on the room asked tion a conversational tone "You fucked my dear niece?"
"Get him Uncle Daemon!"Aenar cheered and giggled
Criston only had a moment to regret all his life choices before the Rogue Prince moved and he was once more fighting for his life