Aerys of Lunamorn

1 - Death of a King

I. Aerys

      Aerys watched from the shadows as her father was brought into the room, gasping and coughing up gouts of blood. She winced slightly, but kept her Princess front up. The people should see a strong Princess Regent, and that was exactly what she was going to be, especially in front of the warriors that had come right from the front of the battle to bring King Volgaris, Lion of Lunamorn, Scourge of the Specters, and the Axe of the South, home to die from his fatal wounds from fighting a battle with the vicious Nomads of the North.

      She watched as healers scuttled about, murmuring distractedly to themselves, as the warriors hefted their maces and spears and swords, in an attempt not to show their nervousness.

      The king is dying, the princes are captives of the Imperious League, and all we’re left with is a sixteen-year-old princess, barely strong enough to lift a wide-bladed axe. She knew those were the thoughts running through the warrior’s heads. Aerys met their gazes coolly, and saw their fear reflected in their eyes. She could have curled her lip in scorn of these new recruits, but she knew a Princess must be above things like scorn.  

      The smell of death in the air was sickening—a pervading musk that brought gloom and despair into the throne room. She took a deep breath and strode purposefully towards the stretcher bearing her father. Her stomach lurched at the smell, but she held the bile down. The twenty-odd warriors made way for her, and she walked to her father’s side, kneeling down so fast that she actually heard her knees crack against the stone floor.

      “Aerys,” her father murmured. A trickle of blood made its way down his chin, and she fought the urge to wipe it off. Be strong, his eyes were telling her, and she gazed into his steady green eyes.

      “Yes, Father?” She couldn’t bring herself to address him as Your Majesty, especially right now. She knew from the smile in his eyes that it was all right.

      “Aerys… keep Lunamorn safe.” He coughed, in a series of grunts and blood gushing from his mouth, and Aerys fought to keep tears from filming her eyes. Her hand searched for her father’s, and he held it tightly, gripping it with what strength he had left. She understood his request. She understood that Lunamorn came first, and she understood that her father was going to die.

      They remained frozen in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but then he spoke again.

      “You will need allies…and that means marriage to a King, or a Prince. You—you will know who to be allied with.” He coughed again, and more of the precious life’s-blood that was his streamed down his chest. Aerys nodded mutely. This was what she was born for.

      “Aerys… know that I love you, I always have.” Her eyes widened at this. She loved her father, and he loved her, but they never acknowledged it. They just knew it. He continued speaking, his breath now coming in ragged gasps from the sheer effort it took him to raise his voice above a whisper. “We are on the brink of war with the Imperious League, and your brothers are their ‘guests’ in the capital… I didn’t want it to come to this. I wanted you to choose your husband, or let you be free to become a priestess of the Goddess, if that was what you wanted.” The ghost of a smile hovered on Volgaris’ lips, and Aerys smiled through the lump in her throat. They both knew that while they worshipped the Goddess, Aerys wasn’t priestess material.

      “I understand, Father.” Aerys bit her lip to keep from crying out. “I love Lunamorn, too. I know my duty.”

      Volgaris smiled back. Only the pressure on her hand indicated the pain he was going through.