A Royal Play • Aemond Targaryen

2.21

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Kingslanding

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The cape of the tent flapped softly against the wind, and people passed by as everyone was abuzzed with excitement. "What has you so down my love?" Arianne asks, gently placing a hand on Baelon's metal shoulder.

The male hums, turning to his wife as she straightens his chest plate. Today was the day of the tourney, and Baelon didn't want anyone but his wife in the tent.

"Nothing Ari, just thinking." Baelon whispers "Of the letter or Aemond?" Arianne asks with a small smile.

Baelon smirks, amused. "You're too smart for your own good." Baelon whispers, gently caressing the side of his wife's face. He wishes it was that simple.

But that wasn't what was in his mind, no. He felt the wind shift, he felt himself change. He knew leaving would be a mistake.

....

Baelon watched as the fire crackled at his feet, men screaming in anguish and pain. Blood covered the ground. He stepped closer, feeling the rumble from beneath the stone floor. He was covered in soot and blood.

Above him roared Vermithor, waiting for his rider. He wanted his dragon to keep away, now that they were in the thick of battle, you don't know who's friend or foe.

The screams faded as Baelon met the gaze of a woman, she was sprawled onto the ground, clutching her stomach, which was leaking with blood. She glared up at the prince. "You brought this war." She hisses

Baelon shakes his head, "I brought nothing, war was already here." Baelon says

She spits out whatever blood was in her mouth and she hisses, "Not this one, no. You brought the dance of the dragons." She moans, her head tilting back. "What?" Baelon asks

"You will bring a war far greater than others, you'll create a kinslayer, first will be your blood, then your love, and then you. You will never win. You may be the true-born Targaryen prince, but you will never be king, you will never win. All will be lost." She sneers, her eyes slightly rolling back.

"Wh-what do you mean!" Baelon asks, confused.

Suddenly she lunges forward and she grabs his arms, making him gasp, his eyes rolling back. His whole body stiffens completely as she digs her fingers into any available skin, whispering words, too fast to comprehend.

Visions fill his head, causing blood to leak from his nose.

The first vision was of his brother, Lucerys, he was scared and alone, just a child.

Baelon gasps as his dragon falls, broken. "No."

Next is of Maegor, slain.

"Lucerys." The witch whispers

"Maegor."

"Helaena."

"Jacerys."

"All murdered because of the bastard blood that runs in your veins."

Baelon continued to gasp as visions tormented his vision, he shook his head, not accepting what he was seeing. But he felt it deep in his bones, this was the truth.

"You are cursed Baelon, and this is your fate." The witch giggles, blood slipping past her lips, painting her teeth.

Baelon rips his arms from her grasp, "No." Baelon snarls, pulling out his sword, and holding it to her throat. The witch stares up at him, smiling widely.

"Maybe you change it, maybe not, but it's been foretold." She croons

Suddenly her head comes off clean from her shoulders, splattering the floor further with blood. Baelon watches with an eerie look, his features composed and silent.

"Oh, I will." He whispers

Reckon suddenly appears, running towards him, covered in armor, his face bloody. "Baelon!" He pants, his eyes then moving down to the witch's dead body. "Wh-what happened?" Reckon asks, panting.

"Nothing." Baelon states calmly

....

A/N

Ahhhhhhhhhh. It's been foretold y'all!!!!!!

Okay, did you expect it?!!!

Hahaha nope, anyways I hope this explains a bit about why Baelon is such an ass, lol.

Annnd I wanted to let y'all know that this was inspired by Cersi and the wood witch, how her future was foretold, and stuff. Oooh scary.

....

Caitriona Balfe as The Stepstone Witch