Banshee ♛ Aemond Targaryen

V. WILD ABANDON

Perhaps he could one day be Kingsgaurd?

There was honour in that. After all, Ser Gideon was a member of the Kingsgaurd, and Ser Harrold his Lord Commander. They were honourable people, knights who earned their place within their ranks and fought to defend what was right. Besides, if Valarr were to become a knight, he could gain a new title that would replace the one he was born with. He could be like Ser Addison Hill, Aegon the Conquerer's second Lord Commander, who went from the Bastard of Cornfield to the Swyft-Steel Knight. Ser Addison was remembered as a valiant and loyal knight — as a credit to his house.

Valarr wanted to be remembered by more than just the Blackwater.

The thought had occurred to him earlier today, which led to his current path down to the skull of Balerion. He never got to burn the parchments from his lesson a few weeks ago, and since he could not find anything to fill his time, now was better than never. Not to mention, Valarr knew it would distract him from thinking of things like titles and namedays.

"Look who we have here," sneered a voice, causing Valarr's form to tighten, recognizing the haughty tone of Orryn Wylde, one of twenty-five of Lord Wylde's children. 

A second voice piped up beside Orryn, and Valarr immediately knew it was his younger brother, Garon. "Nothing to say, Bastard?"

Valarr felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he quickened his pace, continuing on his way in an attempt to ignore the brothers. He forgot they returned to Kings Landing a few days ago. For the last two months, they stayed at the seat of House Wylde in the Stormlands with their mother. It was the best two months of Valarr's life.

Both Wylde's were older than him, though Garon was only born a year before himself, and both were stronger. They had already spent time in the training yard, and Orryn was recently taken as a page to Ser Willis Fell.

"That seems more likely," Orryn agreed. "I heard that the maesters gave up trying to teach him anything. He has to have lessons with Maester Runciter now."

Valarr's throat bobbed, rising and falling with anger and hurt. His hands, which clutched parchment, tightened, and he felt the urge to throw them down and lunge wildly. The Flames' goading was not helping either. They hissed in his ears, saying this and that, though all were equally displeased. They always were, and it always drove him to avoid the Wyldes whenever they tried to harass him during the past year. Vhagar was usually angry with him — for not doing anything — and called him pitiful, but Valarr did not think he could do anything. There were two of them, and they were legitimate! They would call him a liar, and everyone would believe them based on that alone.

"Can you imagine having to learn from that old fool? No wonder he never says anything. He is probably too dumb to understand," Garon laughed.

Orryn inched closer to Valarr. "Maybe his silence is a blessing. Imagine having to listen to that voice all day."

As Valarr tried to slip away, he heard their rapid footsteps trying to match his pace. Then, a sharp tug on his shoulder ripped him backwards, causing him to nearly trip. Turning to glare at Orryn, Valarr tried to push past him but was blocked by Garon, who smirked at him.

"And where are you going?" Garon's said mockingly. He shoved Valarr back towards his brother.

Behind him, Orryn's laugh was cruel. "Back to his mother, I bet. Are you going to swim to her, Bastard? Are you finally going to brave the Blackwater?"

Valarr felt his eye twitch.

"I wonder," Orryn continued, "if you will sink like her or float like the filth you are— AH!"