Fire and Blood

Chapter 13: An Ambitious Prince

"But isn't that close to where Valyria once stood?" Rhaenyra pointed at one of their father's models of the ancient Valyrian Freehold. "You were there too. Was it exciting?"

Aeonar grimaced. "I'd rather not go there again," he shuddered. If that model is a depiction of what Old Valyria looked like in what remains of our history books, then it pains me to even think of what might have been if the Doom had not nearly destroyed us. "Where once a mighty empire stood is now a pile of rubble infested with Stone Men. Perhaps that's why we've heard so many stories of any who ventured into those ruins are never seen again."

"Goodness..." even Rhaenyra looked aghast.

Thank the gods for Vaelor...

"But none come close to the Golden Empire of Yi Ti. Since the fall of the Ghiscari Empire and Valyrian Freehold, it is one of the oldest and most advanced societies in the known world still standing. It is also where I got this," Aeonar reached over to grab his longbow to present to Rhaenyra and Viserys. It was asymmetrically tall, 7-feet long, made of laminated bamboo, wood, and leather with the grip about one-third the distance from the lower tip with the upper and lower curves differing in shape.

Viserys examined the bow. "Where'd you even acquire a bow that big?" he asked surprised upon measuring it.

Rhaenyra recognizes it as the same bow Aeonar used to shoot an arrow near Daemon's feet to reclaim Dragonstone at a greater distance while mounted on Vaelor's back.

"The Yi Tish call them the luó. As you can see, the luó is designed to give it greater accuracy than the traditional Westerosi longbow or crossbow over long distances. Its steel-tipped arrows are said to be able to penetrate armor as thick as plate. Say what you want about them, but the Yi Tish are master archers." Aeonar set the bow down. "Their warriors live by a code, just as our knights based on the founding tenants." He mentioned. "For the Yi Tish, their ideology before going to war is... 'Shàng zhàn chǎng jué xīn sǐ qù, nǐ huì huó xià lái. Shàng zhàn chǎng xī wàng huó xià qù, nǐ kěn ding bù huì.' It means 'Go into battle determined to die, and you will survive. Go into battle hoping to live, and surely you shall not.'"

"Wha...?"

"It's Yi Tish. You'd be surprised when learning a multitude of languages."

"Then..."

"Egó boró hataa yatakalam Palaiós Nkískari. (I can even speak Old Ghiscari.)" Aeonar spoke in another language. "Old Ghiscari. Difficult to learn but it can be useful."

"Ao dōrī sia mēre naejot sit iēdrosa, sia ao? (You never were one to sit still, were you?)" Rhaenyra inquired in High Valyrian.

Aeonar shook his head. "Hāedar, nyke va moriot emagon naejot gaomagon nykēla mire. (Little sister, I always must keep myself busy.)" He replied in the same dialect.

Viserys was intrigued by the stories his son shared, the places he traveled to, the people he met, and the languages he learned... some part of him wished that he had done the same when he was younger. But the king could not. Instead, his children continued trading stories – watching on as any proud father would. But it would not be long before the conversation shifted again.

"Soooo...~" Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow cheekily. "Don't you have something else you want to share with father tonight?"

"Rhaenyra, don't you dare," Aeonar pointed a sharp finger.

"'Something else'?" Viserys asked curiously. "Is there something you wish to share with your king?"

Damn it, Rhaenyra. I am going to kill you later. "I proposed marriage to Alicent in the gardens earlier this morning. To join our houses. And she accepted," Aeonar informed his father. He then slowly turned his head to Rhaenyra. "Yet this little weasel couldn't help but eavesdrop on the entire private affair."