Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Love...
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High Tide Castle
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Baelon's face and arm were being roughly stitched back together, making him grimace in pain, struggling to pull back, but his new guard kept his head in place. His hands violently twisted the fabric of his pants, grunting and moaning in pain.
Aemond on the other hand was screaming in pain, trying to struggle out of the guard grip and away from the maesters needle, worsening the pain on his missing lid and eye.
The blood dripped down onto the ground like a river, it was disgusting and gruesome.
Baelon didn't know so much blood could come out from such a small body.
....
Alicent covered her mouth, covering her cries. She stood outside of the room, listening to her son's cries, unable to enter and witness the horror.
....
It was late at night when everyone gathered in the large hall, at Driftmark, a well-lit fire was flickering harshly in the background, illuminating the grand hall and its residents.
Aemond sat in front of the burning furnace, his eye completely stitched up and red. His other was swollen and rimmed red from his tears and exhaustion.
"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" Viserys ask, tired and angry. "I will have answers." Viserys demands, he still wore his night clothes. But before he made his way into court his valet had thrown a robe on the aging king's shoulders to provide warmth to his brittle bones. Viserys stared at the small court, in his hand was a long wooden cane, providing some stability.
"The princes were supposed to be abed, my king." Harold states, his eyes meeting Baelon's, who looks away. "Who had the watch?" Viserys asks
Alicent gently knelt in front of Aemond, touching him on his scarred face, making him grimace briefly. He settles against his seat, his other eye searching the room for Baelon, who stared at the floor with anger.
"The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, your grace." Cole states
Jace held Luke closely in his arms, his free hand blindly seeking out his elder brother's hand. Baelon gently takes it, offering a small comfort. His face was still red and bloody. The blood had not properly washed off and caked his face.
"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" Viserys exclaims, furious. Baelon closes his eyes, not ready for that anger to be directed at him and his siblings.
