Chapter 33
JEYNE ARRYN
It had taken a week for the army to round up each and every traitor from Arnold Arryn's army, and now, with that done, Eyrie's main Hall was filled with people battered and bruised, all looking up at her with sheer fear and hate.
It had happened once before, years ago, when a much younger Jeyne had looked down at a similar gathering of traitors and oath breakers. And she had forgiven them, pardoned them all their treachery for she was both naive and a woman. And yet they had answered her mercy with treachery and taken from her, her dearest Jessamyn.
Even now, as she looked to her sides, she found only Aegon standing there to her right, and yet her left now remained empty, a place often reserved for her dearest friend.
Aegon was clad in his full black armor with his Valyrian Steel Blade strapped to his side as he looked down on the prisoners with steely eyes. His expression was somber, and yet, those who knew him could see the pain and sorrow hiding underneath all that steel.
In many ways, he was the only one who could understand her pain, understand her loss for he had suffered it as well. The news of Lady Alicent Hightower's suicide had rocked the whole continent, and it had caused much grief to her. When word had first come she had thought Aegon would blame her for it, much like she had.
But he had done nothing of the sort, and even in his own pain, he had offered her a shoulder to cry on, a shoulder to shoulder her blame and rage, making her ashamed of herself. In their friendship, she had only ever taken from him while offering him little in return.
So she apologized to him, and he smiled at her with those puffy eyes and rebuffed it all, reminding her why she trusted and leaned on him as much as she did. Their eyes met, and he gave her an encouraging nod as she rose from her throne and stepped forward.
The whispers around the Hall died down in an instant, as her gaze landed on all the chained prisoners, eyeing them in their misery, she steeled her heart for what she was about to do. About what she should have done all those years ago.
"Years ago, I sat on this very throne and witnessed a rather gathering of traitors and oath breakers," she began as she looked the man who had orchestrated this attack in the eye, the brother of Lord Leowyn Corbay, Corbyn Corbay, the man glared at her with reddened hate filled eyes.
"That day, I chose to show mercy. I chose to show compassion as I offered clemency. Many of you assume I shall do the same today," she added before she shook her head and saw their eyes widen at her words.
"I will not!" and with that, she motioned for the guards as they began to push the giant wheels on the side of the castle, as a chill spread all over the Hall as the faces of the prisoners turned ashen as aloud screeching noise filled the Halls, until one could see the clouds down below.
The Eyrie was famous for many things: its beauty, its cloud-piercing towers, and its Moon Doors.
It was a punishment reserved for the most heinous of crimes, and oath-breaking was one such crime. She had not sentenced anyone to such a fate in her reign until today, but it would change today.
"This is a message to all the traitors and the oath breakers, those captured and those who still persist in their folly," she announced as a round of guards surrounded the men and began to push them into a single file as screams of wails and pleas filled the Halls of the Eyrie yet she steeled her heart as he motioned for the guards to begin.
"There will be no mercy. Not anymore," and with that, the guards brought forth the first man. Corwyn Corbay and the man glared at him.
"You will suffer for this, you whore! You will suffer!" he shouted and screamed as the guards pushed him towards the open skies. Those words meant nothing to her as her fists balled up as she looked at that face and remembered his cruel laugh.
It had been him, the one who had captured Jessamyn and sent her Arnold. He had killed her. And now he would suffer.
"Your brother shall join you soon, Lord Corwyn," with that, she nodded, and the man was pushed forward. His scream filled the Hall, and she looked at the guards.
"See to it that no one is spared," with that, she left the throne and walked away as Aegon made to follow. Back in her solar, the stoic Lady of the Vale vanished, as her shoulders slumped and her grief overcame her once more.
"You wish to go to the capital?" she asked, the boy sitting infront of him, and his own grief was no much less than her own. And he nodded. He had mentioned this before, and yet she had delayed giving him an answer until the rebellion's army was put down.
But she knew she could delay it no more.
"I wish to attend her funeral," he replied stiffly, and usually, he would not need to ask her permission for this. Even now, he did not; he was a Prince and a dragon rider and could do as he pleased. But the Vale was at war. Even now her armies marched towards Heart's Home to capture Lord Leowyn Corbay.
His absence during such perilous times could cause trouble and he was her sole pillar of support in these troubling and painful times. Both of them had only one another to lean on, to share their sorrows.
A part of her wished to deny him his request, but she would not. She could not.
"You will return in seven days," she ordered, and he nodded.
"I will," he agreed as he gave her a nod, and as he made to leave, Jeyne asked him a question that came to her mind every time someone mentioned the name of that Hightower girl.
"Why her?" she asked, thinking it was her last opportunity to ask him this, and he stopped at the door.
"I don't know," he answered as he glanced back at her and looked her in the eye.
"I could ask you the same thing. Why her?" he repeated those words, and she smiled as she tried to think of an answer but could only repeat back those words, for that was what made most sense to her.
"I don't know as well."
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VISERYS TARGARYEN
A week had passed since the death of the Lady Alicent Hightower, the death of her friend so soon after Aemma's loss had taken a toll on his daughter. To this day, there were many reasons given for the girl's actions; many blamed Otto for pushing his daughter into an unhappy match, while others blamed Daemon's son for her death, speaking of a conspiracy that this was not a suicide.
That somehow Aegon Targaryen was behind this, yet the initial investigation had exonerated the boy. The servants working for the girl had clearly stated that she had returned to her room fine and had done the deed herself, and despite the suspicion of foul play, nothing had come up to substantiate such rumors.
However, in his own mind, there was plenty of blame to go around, both for Aegon and Otto, and even for his own brother. The whole affair caused a rift between him and his hand, with Otto lamenting his lack of action. His hand continued to blame Aegon for his daughter's death and wished for him to punish him.
Aegon's own claims of an uprising taking place in the Vale were proven correct, and the boy had made it in time to fell the pretender, Arnold Arryn. And now Vale was filled with infighting, with the Lady Jeyne preparing for a sweeping campaign against the lords who had supported her cousin in his uprising.
Many of these lords had approached him, asking him to intervene on their behalf to stay her hand. Yet he cared little for them. Their pleas were useless, they had broken their oaths, and he had no desire to help traitors.
But now, all this uproar had left him with a very big problem. The Royal family was running out of heirs. Even now, Daemon fought a war in the Stepstones while Aegon, Daemon's heir, was away from the capital.
The Royal family had not been so lacking in heirs since the end of Maegor's rule. And in all this had come a proposal from Corlys himself. And in this time of indecision, he found himself unable to trust his hand, Otto, whose judgment he found compromised after the loss of his daughter.
And so, he found himself in the company of the only other advisor he could trust, and so he had called Lord Lyonel Strong to his office.
"So, what do you think of Lord Corlys's proposal?" he asked and saw the learned man contemplate his words for some time before he nodded.
"There are merits to the proposal, of course," the man began.
"Laena Velaryon is young, and is a daughter of the realm's richest House. She comes from pure Velaryon stock and rides the largest dragon alive. With the campaign in the Stepstones underway, an alliance with House Velaryon would do much for the Crown," and it was sound advice but one he did not wish to hear for some reason.
"And what of his ambitions," for that had always been the biggest concern when it came to a man like Corlys Vealryon. The Sea Snake's ambition was known to all. The man desired a direct line to the throne.
"Marrying Laena Velaryon would be like feeding the Kraken, it would give the man a direct line to the throne," he complaint and Lyonel Strong's lips thinned.
"Indeed, that is one way of looking at it. But on the other hand, with this alliance, you can cement the Vealryons to your side, and the Sea Snake would make for a better ally than foe," and there was wisdom in those words.
He would need to think of this, but then there was the matter of the difference of age. Laena Velaryon was young but a few years older than Rhaenyra. But that was a matter he would have to deal with himself, and so he moved onto the other matter on which he wished to probe the mind of his Master of Law.
"And what of the recent death of Lady Alicent?" he began slowly.
"What do you think of Otto's allegations?" he asked, and there was no need to repeat them, for Otto had made them many times, both publicly and privately, blaming his daughter's demise on Aegon.
The man had insisted that the Prince be not permitted to her funeral, which was set to take place in a day.
"Lord Hand's words are fuelled by both grief and his antagonism towards Prince Aegon's father, the Prince Daemon. Your grace, the bad blood between them is no secret," the man added softly as he motioned for him to continue.
He was more than aware of their antagonism.
"But there is no indication of any foul play. Despite the egregious circumstances and the opportunities, the Prince made no effort to delay or dissolve the match. His rather secretive and swift departure from the capital was on genuine fears of a rebellion in the Vale, fears that did come true," and he believed so. Already, he had obliged Otto quite a bit trying to protect his daughter's honor by marrying her with Aegon.
But this was going too far.
"So you think them all false," he asked, and the man nodded.
"I am afraid I do. Lord Hand's judgment has always been clouded over matters concerning Prince Daemon, and this is no exception," and he sighed. This was all a big mess.
"Your grace, if I may," the man said, making him open his eyes as he motioned for the man to continue.
"The match between Prince Aegon and the Lady Alicent was always strange. One could even say rather unequal," the man added, and he was not the first person to express this opinion. The Lady Rhea had mentioned the same thing, yet he had pushed it through using his authority as the King.
"It was," he agreed, but the match served many purposes. It protected the honor of both House Targaryen from the damning allegations of Otto while also shielding the Lady's reputation. But even he was not blind to its faults. The only salvation was that, according to his daughter, both of them seemed enamoured with one another.
"It was, and I am not the only one who thought so. Prince Aegon's most ideal match to this day is Princess Rhaenyra..."
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And so late into the night, a singular figure knelt in the Sept beside a raised platform on which lay the unmoving body of one Alicent Hightower.
In that solitude, the doors to the Sept opened once more. As another figure entered the Sept, his steps were slow and measured. He walked up to the platform and stopped right behind the kneeling form of the girl who had kept vigil for a friend.
And in that moment, the person opened their eyes, revealing amethyst orbs glistening in the darkness as they opened their mouth.
"I knew you would come..."
"...Prince Aegon."
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