These Violent Acts → House of the Dragon

015. What's a Party Without a Little Blood?

"I need someone around my age for this to work best," Naenya said bluntly, her eyes softening as Wren accidentally bumped into the Bolton lady and began apologising profusely, "Though I am sure that, once he comes of age, any Lady would be lucky to have such a sweet boy,"

"What of Elden Baratheon? I heard he enjoyed a good bit of annoying you, my sweet niece," Daemon brought up, grinning into his cup as Naenya glared at him. 

"Ah yes, a fine man from a fine family," Viserys said, seeming not to have heard Daemon's extra comments. 

As Naenya was about to respond, a rise in volume caught the dragons attentions. Turning back towards the dance, she noticed each dancer had stopped and were circled around the middle of the dance floor. Chatter began to break out within the circle, eager whispers and disapproving tones. It was the type of chatter one would expect during a brawl on the streets. 

"What is going on?" Viserys muttered, turning to call for the guards.

Daemon and Naenya had already begun moving into the circle, trying to catch what was going on as the sounds of fists hurtling against skin echoed off the stone walls. Pushing through the excited Ladies and eager Lords, Naenya quickly approached the circle's front. 

Naenya could finally hear and see what was going on. Elden Baratheon stood over a fallen Garret Tyrell, who was staring up at the Stag with blazen eyes as he wiped his lips of blood. Glancing around, she could feel the tension between the two Houses. The Baratheons were stood behind Elden, Lady Baratheon ready to claw Garrets eyes out for her son as the Tyrells were behind Garret, Lord Tyrell shaking with anger over the embarrassment. 

She could hear the intensity in Elden's tone, realising he was now speaking quietly to the beaten Gareet. There was a great deal of emotion behind whatever words he was speaking, too lowly for her to hear. 

"A very fine man indeed," Daemon whispered into Naenya's ear, though the spark in his eyes showed approval.

"What is this blatant show of disrespect?" 

Viserys bellowing voice could be heard from across the room as the Kingsguard pushed through the crowds to break up the fight well after it was over. Ser Loren grabbed Elden, who was smiling to himself at his work. Elden only held minor injuries, light blood on his lip thatmay or may not have been his, and bloodied hands from the beating he had given. It was Garret Tyrell that looked hard done by, with Ser Steffon holding the boy up. 

The crowds quickly parted as Viserys walked through, Ser Harrold and Otto Hightower by his side. 

"What is this?" Viserys yelled, staring down the two boys, "Why have you drawn blood in my halls? My home!?"

Silence seemed to overtake the once joyous hall, not a single person willing to speak while their King demanded answers. Garet Tyrell appeared to have his mouth stolen from him, merely casting his gaze away angrily. 

Elden, however, seemed more than willing to talk. 

"When we were younger, I promised princess Enya that I would fight for her and only her. And, when I did, it would be enthralling, and I wouldn't embarrass her though failure," Elden spoke, turning his gaze from Viserys to Naenya, "I have only done what I promised,"

Viserys stared at the boy in bafflement, looking around the hall for answers, "Can anyone make sense of what was just spoken?"

"Your Grace," Jeyne came towards the centre of the circle, bowing slightly as she began to speak, "I did, in fact, hear Garret talking distainfully about a female heir,"

A gasp spread through the halls, Garret only looking down ashamedly when his father glowered at him. Naenya was certain it wasn't what was said that surprised many and infuriated Lord Tyrell. Rather, it was that Garret had said it so openly. The Tyrells would be looked down on for quite some time, for words only meant to be whispered in secret.