129 AC
Third Day Of The Third Moon
The Red Keep
"Prince Jaehaerys, I am needed in the Small Council meeting," Lord Larys Strong stated.
I glanced at the clubfoot and gestured for him to take a seat. He obeyed, and I approached him with a towel, which he accepted with confusion in his eyes.
"What is this for, my prince?" he inquired, his calculating gaze fixed on me.
"So that the blood does not stain the floor, my lord," I replied calmly, before plunging my Valyrian steel dagger into his skull. His eyes widened with shock, but there was little he could do.
As I gazed upon his motionless body, I reflected on the significance of this act. It marked the first kill of my second life.
"The first of many more to come," I thought to myself, a melancholic realization settling in.
Making my way towards the door of my chambers, I encountered Ser Steffon Darklyn standing guard. He had not been informed of my father's death, as that would have put him on alert.
"What happened, my prince?" he inquired, concern etched on his features. Without hesitation, I swiftly ended his life with a stab to his neck. He fell to his knees, clutching his throat as blood poured out.
"You were a good and loyal knight, but sadly, your loyalty lies with Rhaenyra. Thus, you had to die, Ser Steffon," I murmured as I delivered the final blow to his head, putting him out of his misery.
Leaving my room behind, I strode purposefully towards the Small Council chambers.
Everything was on lockdown within the Red Keep. It was hard to believe that only five hours had passed since my father's death.
As I made my way towards the chambers, a commotion caught my attention. Lord Lyman Beesbury was being dragged out, unconscious. Two Kingsguard knights stood watch, solemn sentinels in the chaos.
"Jaehaerys!" my mother exclaimed as I entered the room.
"What happened to you, my son?" she asked, noticing the dagger still clutched in my hand, its blade stained with blood.
Ignoring her, I turned to my grandfather, Otto Hightower
"Aegon has accepted his role as king," he informed me, his gaze steady. I glanced at my brother, Aegon, who met my eyes with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.
"You were aware of this, brother?" Aegon's voice carried a hint of accusation, to which I simply nodded in confirmation.
"I will arrange for the disposal of their bodies," Grandfather stated calmly, his words cutting through the tension.
"What bodies, Father?" Mother's voice trembled with uncertainty.
"I have executed Lord Larys Strong and Ser Steffon Darklyn for their treachery," I announced, my voice low but firm. The shock on Mother, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron's faces was palpable.
"Why, Jaehaerys? Why would you do such a thing?" Mother's voice wavered, still reeling from the revelation.
"Larys was a traitor, Mother. I intend to rid this city of such vermin," I explained softly, my resolve unwavering amidst the turmoil.
I approached the table where the members of the Small Council were gathered, a map of King's Landing spread out before us.
"Uncle Gwayne will gather all the members of the city watch outside the city. These men of the city watch served under The Rogue Prince when he was the Lord Commander. Everyone will perceive it as a routine training exercise," I outlined my plan, my tone steady despite the gravity of the situation.
"I will purge them all with Vermithor's help," I continued, a sense of determination coloring my words.
"Grandfather, where are the forces from Oldtown?" I inquired, seeking assurance in his response.
"They are just a day away from the city. They will arrive and help you take care of the Goldcloaks," Otto Hightower replied, his confidence unwavering. I nodded in acknowledgment, trusting in his counsel.
"Jaehaerys, what are you saying?" Mother's voice broke through the tension, her disbelief palpable.
"Uncle Gwayne, please escort the Queen Dowager to her chambers. She is still in shock over my father's death," I directed, a hint of urgency in my tone. Gwayne complied, leading Mother away despite her protests.
Turning my attention to my brothers, I could see the confusion etched on their faces as they struggled to comprehend the unfolding events. But there was no time for hesitation.
"Aegon, Aemond, Daeron, snap out of it," I urged, my voice firm with resolve.
"There is a war coming," I stated plainly, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.
"Grandfather and I have been preparing for it, and all of you will play integral roles," I continued, meeting each of their gazes with determination.
"Jaehaerys, do you even hear yourself? You wish to kill hundreds of men of the City Watch just because they were under our uncle's command," Daeron challenged, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes, I do intend to do just that," I affirmed without hesitation.
"After I deal with the Goldcloaks, the forces of House Hightower, numbering five thousand strong, will enter the city and eliminate all members of the Rat Catcher Guild," I explained, outlining the strategy.
"Half of the treasury will be taken and escorted to Oldtown for safekeeping, while the remainder will be used for our war effort," I continued, laying out the plan with precision.
"Of the five thousand men, two thousand will remain in the city," I added, ensuring every detail was clear.
"There is a woman named Mysaria, also known as Lady Misery. She was once our uncle's paramour and has contacts throughout the city," I informed them, emphasizing the importance of dealing with her swiftly.
"We must find her and eliminate her and ensure that she can no longer pose a threat within the city," I concluded, my tone leaving no room for argument.
I surveyed the occupants of the Small Council chambers. My brothers remained in a state of shock, grappling with the weight of my words, while Grandfather regarded me with evident pride.
"Lord Tyland Lannister, send a raven to your brother informing him to gather his forces," I commanded, my voice steady and authoritative.
"My brother has fortified the coast of the Westerlands and will be monitoring the Ironborn," he explained, emphasizing the strategic importance of his efforts.
"It is imperative that we rally the majority of the lords to my brother's side," I continued, stressing the urgency of the situation.
With purposeful resolve, I retrieved a map of Westeros and unfurled it onto the table, a visual aid to aid in our planning.
"My grandsons, I understand that you may feel unprepared for the events unfolding," Grandfather began, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom and experience. "But I ask for your trust. Together, we will weather this storm."
"Once Prince Jaehaerys has dealt with the City Watch, Prince Aegon will be crowned in the Dragonpit," he continued, outlining the next steps of our plan.
"After the coronation, Prince Aemond will journey to the Stormlands," Grandfather announced, turning his attention to my brother. "Aemond, it is imperative that you ensure the Baratheons stand with us."
"And how do you propose I achieve that?" Aemond inquired, his expression serious.
"You will marry one of Lord Borros Baratheon's daughters," Grandfather stated matter-of-factly. "Following the marriage, you will remain in the Stormlands while Lord Borros gathers his forces."
"As for Prince Jaehaerys, he will head north to enlist the support of the Starks," Grandfather continued, directing his gaze towards me.
"Helaena, Alyssa, and the children will travel to Oldtown with Mother, accompanied by their dragons," I interjected, prioritizing their safety above all else. "Despite our actions in King's Landing, I am not willing to risk their safety."
"Daeron, you will accompany them to the Reach," I instructed, turning to my older brother. "Your task is to sway Lady Tyrell to our cause. If she harbors any doubts, ask her whether she wishes to see Highgarden burn."
"Daeron, you are to be betrothed to Cerelle Lannister, the eldest daughter of Lord Jason Lannister," my grandfather announced, and Daeron's eyes widened in surprise.
"With these marriages, the Westerlands and the Stormlands will be bound to us," he continued, his voice carrying the weight of political strategy. I could see Daeron's discomfort, a subtle grimace betraying his feelings.
"Lord Hand, what are we to do of Princess Rhaenyra", Grandmaester Orwyle said.
"I doubt the bitch will be happy with all this", Aemond said.
"A raven will be sent to her at an appropriate time to inform her of our father's passing", I said and the grandmaester nodded his head.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with fiery streaks of crimson and gold, I soared through the air alongside Vermithor, the wind whipping against my face as we flew in the air.
From our vantage point, I could see the army from Oldtown creeping stealthily towards the city watch, their movements shrouded by the fading light of dusk. The Goldcloaks, clad in their gleaming armor, were engrossed in their drills, unaware of the impending doom descending upon them.
My own armor, a deep brown to match Vermithor's scales, felt heavy yet empowering as I gripped the reins tightly, anticipation coursing through my veins.
Then, the blast of a horn shattered the tranquility, a jarring reminder of the chaos about to unfold. With a silent command, Vermithor dove towards the unsuspecting soldiers below, a silent predator ready to unleash hell.
The drills halted abruptly as the soldiers' widened eyes caught sight of the descending dragon, their fear palpable in the air like a suffocating blanket.
"Dracarys," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rushing wind, and with that, Vermithor unleashed a torrent of bronze flames that engulfed the ranks of the Goldcloaks in a relentless inferno.
The screams of the fallen pierced the air, a symphony of agony and despair drowned out only by the crackling of flames and the roar of the dragon. I watched, a grim witness to the destruction I had wrought, my heart heavy with the weight of each life taken.
Those who attempted to flee were met with swift and merciless justice from the forces of Oldtown, their blades slicing through flesh and bone without remorse. The stench of burning flesh mingled with the metallic tang of blood, assaulting my senses as I surveyed the carnage below.
In the span of a single day, I had surpassed the tally of lives taken in my previous existence, a grim milestone on the path I now tread, stained with the blood of my enemies.
As I soared above the city, a silent witness to the chaos unfolding below, the forces of Oldtown entered King's Landing with precision, guided by Uncle Gwayne amidst the organized chaos of the streets. Their objective was clear: to root out the Ratcatchers Guild and restore order to the capital.
With each passing moment, the city below seemed to transform, the once bustling streets now a scene of tumult and upheaval. Yet amidst the disorder, there was a sense of purpose, a coordinated effort to cleanse King's Landing of its hidden threats.
And so, under the watchful eye of Vermithor, I beheld the culmination of our plan. The streets of King's Landing were cleansed, the shadows dispelled, as the Ratcatchers Guild was brought to a decisive end.
Night draped the Red Keep in shadows by the time I approached Maegor's Holdfast, my armor weighing heavily upon my shoulders, burdening me with the weight of my actions.
Navigating the familiar halls, I sought out Alyssa's chamber, where the echo of her voice met my ears before I even crossed the threshold. Inside, I found her and Mother locked in a heated exchange, their voices raised in discord.
Alyssa's eyes, red-rimmed from tears, met mine as I entered, and without a word, she rushed into my arms, seeking refuge from the storm raging within our home. I held her close, the warmth of her embrace a balm to my troubled soul, a silent promise echoing in my heart that as long as she was safe, my actions were justified.
"Why are you wearing armor?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern, her gaze searching mine for answers.
"And why do you smell of dragon?" she added, her brow furrowing with worry.
I remained silent, unable to articulate the truth of my actions as Alyssa turned her accusing gaze towards Mother.
"What in the Seven's name is happening?" Alyssa's words cut through the tension like a sword, her anger palpable in the air.
As I confessed to Alyssa the extent of my deeds, her shock and condemnation pierced me to the core, her accusatory gaze burning with betrayal.
"This is all yours and grandfather's fault," Alyssa accused Mother, her voice trembling with righteous fury. "Look what you have made of my brother."
Mother attempted to interject, but Alyssa's rage refused to be quelled, her words a torrent of anguish and resentment.
"It hasn't even been a day since Father passed, and you're already plotting to put Aegon on the damned throne," Alyssa screamed, her voice raw with emotion.
"Do you even care that Father is dead?", she spat out.
"Alyssane Targaryen," Mother's voice, heavy with sorrow, interjected, her own grief evident in the tear-streaked lines of her face.
"I loved your father with all my heart," Mother's words trembled with emotion, tears glistening in her eyes like shattered diamonds. "But he is gone, and I must protect my children from that... that whore of Dragonstone," she spat, her voice laced with venom as she spoke of my half-sister.
Alyssa's accusation cut through the air like a sword, her words sharp with the pain of betrayal. "Do not lie to me. All you ever cared about was that damned throne."
"Do you even care about us, Mother?" Alyssa's voice wavered, her eyes pleading for reassurance amidst the turmoil. "Or is it a lie that you keep telling yourself, hoping that one day it will become true?"
Before the conflict could escalate further, I intervened, my voice cutting through the chaos with a plea for peace.
"Mother, you should leave. We have a busy day tomorrow," I said, urging her to depart.
As Mother retreated, Alyssa's anger turned to me, her frustration boiling over as she unleashed her fears and insecurities.
"What were you thinking?" she demanded, her hand connecting with my cheek in a stinging slap. "What if something had happened to you? What if some bloody idiot had shot an arrow and you died?"
"Alyssa," I said, my voice tinged with urgency, "I promised you, did I not, that I would never leave you?"
Her anger softened, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored my own, her words a poignant reminder of the fragility of our bond in the face of looming danger.
"I already lost Father, Jaehaerys, and I cannot lose you too," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper as she melted into my embrace.
After some time, we slowly released our embrace, the weight of our shared grief still heavy upon us.
Then, Alyssa called for the servants to prepare a bath for me.
Once refreshed, I made my way to Alyssa's room. Only a few candles cast flickering shadows across the chamber as I entered, finding her standing by the balcony, her silhouette framed by the moonlit night beyond.
"Did you see Father's body?" Alyssa's voice was soft, tinged with a sadness that mirrored my own.
"I did," she replied quietly, the memory of Father's lifeless form still fresh in my mind.
"He had a pained expression," she continued, her words heavy with sorrow as I felt a pang of guilt over my actions.
As Alyssa spoke of Mother and Grandfather's swift actions following Father's death, her tone betrayed a mixture of anger and disillusionment.
"His body had not even grown cold before Mother and Grandfather started plotting," she lamented, her disappointment palpable.
Alyssa's compassion shone through as she spoke of Rhaenyra, our sister, her voice tinged with a sense of duty and familial obligation.
"I have no love for Rhaenyra after what she wanted to do to you," Alyssa admitted. "But she is still our sister, and she loved Father as much as he loved her. She should be allowed to come and at least pay her respects."
Alyssa's words touched something deep within me, a reminder of her innate goodness and unwavering sense of justice.
"We will never be able to make peace with her, Alyssa," I said, my voice heavy with resignation.
"There is a war that is going to take place, and it is either us or them," I continued, the weight of the impending conflict pressing down upon us like a suffocating blanket.
"Alyssa, I need to tell you something," I said, my gaze locked with hers, searching for understanding in the depths of her eyes.
"After Aegon's coronation tomorrow, I will be leaving for the North," I confessed, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
"I will be coming with you," she replied without hesitation, her determination unwavering.
"No, Alyssa. You will go to Oldtown alongside Helaena and the children. Mother will be there as well," I said, my tone firm but tinged with regret.
"I will not be leaving without you," she insisted, her stubbornness a testament to her fierce loyalty.
"Alyssa, stop being so stubborn," I pleaded, instantly regretting my words.
"Did you not promise me that you would never leave my side?" she countered, her voice tinged with hurt.
"Then why do you have to go to the North alone?" she questioned, her eyes searching mine for answers.
"We need allies, and I have a part to play, Alyssa," I explained, the weight of responsibility heavy upon my shoulders.
"Then why cannot I accompany you?" she pressed, her resolve unyielding.
"Two dragons are more convincing than one," she argued, her logic undeniable.
"Because I need you to be safe," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
"If I know that you are in Oldtown, then I will be able to concentrate on the war," I reasoned, desperation creeping into my tone.
"What do you think, then? That I will not be worried for you?" she shot back, her frustration palpable.
"Alyssa, for at least once in your life, just listen to me," I pleaded as she went and sat on the edge of the bed.
I crossed the room and knelt before her, my heart heavy with the weight of the words I was about to speak. Gently, I reached out, taking her hand in mine, seeking solace in the warmth of her touch.
"The real reason that I don't want you to come with me is because in case something untoward happens, I don't want you to get hurt," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, weighted with unspoken fears.
"If something were to happen to you, Alyssa, I don't know what I would do with myself," I admitted, a tear slipping down my cheek, betraying the depth of my emotions.
In that moment, Alyssa pulled me closer to her chest, her embrace a sanctuary amidst the chaos of our world. Wordlessly, she held me, offering comfort and understanding in the silence between us.
Then, slowly, she pulled me towards her, our lips meeting in a deep, fervent kiss. It was unlike any other time we had kissed before, a collision of passion and longing that left us both breathless.
Her grip on my hair tightened as I found myself atop her, our bodies pressed together in a desperate embrace. We kissed as if our very souls depended on it, unwilling to let go of each other, even for a moment.
After what felt like an eternity, we reluctantly pulled apart, the ache of separation already beginning to seep into our bones.
"I understand," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with sorrow. "This will be the first time that we'll be staying apart from each other."
I simply nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of my own emotions.
"So, for this one night, don't leave my side, Jaehaerys," she pleaded, her lips brushing softly against mine as we laid on the bed.
I held her tightly, unwilling to let go, knowing that this would be the last night we would spend together for a long time. In the embrace of the woman I loved, I found solace amidst the uncertainty of the future.