Driftmark ― High Tide...
Alicent had made arrangements for the royal family's return to the capital in three days. However, House Velaryon's affairs needed to be resolved before attending a small fair at Spicetown. Unfortunately, the recent incidents involving Aemond, Vhagar, and Aeonar had left Alicent anxious and on edge. Though she regretted her actions towards the queen, Alicent had to protect her children, especially her sons. She would not allow Beatrice to harm any of her five children, but it saddened her that her husband had to suffer the consequences.
« We play an ugly game. And now, for the first time, I see that you have the determination to win it. »
'We Light the Way.' Yes, father. I know what's expected of me. Aeonar might be stubborn in his ways, but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying for him to reconcile with Viserys. Alicent carried a bundle containing sheets, medicinal cloth, and ointments to help her father-in-law, Viserys, who hadn't been feeling well lately. With the added stress, the king looked quite unwell, and Alicent hoped her offerings would bring him some momentary relief until they reached King's Landing. Upon reaching his room, Alicent was granted entry by the Kingsguard knights, Ser Rickard Thorne and Ser Willis Fell, stationed at the door. However, to her surprise, she found neither Beatrice, Aegon the Elder, nor Aemond present. The only person in the room was Helaena, who appeared engrossed in her insect collection. "Your Grace," she said.
Viserys, although tired, acknowledged his daughter-in-law's presence. "Ah, Alicent. Good morning," he sighed wearily. "What's... what's that?" he noticed the collection.
"I've asked them to have wine ready for you on the ship when we leave. To help you sleep." Alicent wrapped a sheet over the king, tucking him gently to ensure he was comfortable. "Are you in pain?" she asked.
"No, I... I'm just tired. That's all."
"And Her Grace?"
Viserys grimaced. "I sent Beatrice back to King's Landing ahead of us. But please, we will speak no more of it," he informed her. She stabbed my son and heir, tried to harm my grandchildren... How can I ever look at her the same after that? "My son... how's Aeonar?" he inquired.
"Maester Kelvyn assured us that Aeonar's wounds would not have any long-term harm, but he mustn't apply too much strain or pressure on his left shoulder for a couple of weeks until it heals properly. Though I must admit, he... can be quite stubborn sometimes. He won't even sit still."
"That does sound like him. I suppose he got it from me, after all. Though I... the funeral, I think, has brought up some... memories that couldn't help but... reopen old wounds."
"Viserys..."
« I will honor your faith in me. I won't let you down, father. »
"Dear Alicent, I am aware of the mistake I made, and I deeply regret what I have done every single day. If I had the power to undo the unforgivable crime I committed, I would do it in a heartbeat. But... my Aemma is gone, and she's no longer with us. Therefore, I must learn to live with the consequences for the rest of my life. As a king and father, I am responsible for bearing this heavy burden."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Viserys. None of us could've predicted what happened years ago. Letting go of the past and allowing your broken heart to heal is important. However, a matter still needs to be addressed regarding you and Aeonar, Your Grace."
« What have you done?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? »
« Between you and mother, you should have died that day – not her. »
"What more could I do? He won't talk to me unless it involves matters of state. Of court. But anything other than that? Haaaaah... nothing. I have tried, Alicent, I really did. I tried getting through to him, but he shuts me out. I fear that I may have lost my son for good."
Alicent shook her head. "I don't believe that," she reiterated. "And neither should you." She sat next to her father-in-law and placed a hand on his. "I know you love Aeonar and Rhaenyra unconditionally, as do your grandchildren. It's only if we lose hope then all is lost. But that is not the case. Your son is not lost to you forever."
"How?" Viserys asked hopefully.
"I believe that there is still good in him. I felt it. Despite any estrangement, I know that the son you raised is still there deep down. I know he still cares about you. And I do have hope that you two can reunite as a family once again. Even if some may think it impossible, we will not give up on trying."
Viserys listened to Alicent's words. Even after all these years, she still hadn't given up hope on either of them. In a way, it reminded the king of Ser Otto's late wife, Lady Evelyne. Alicent looks so much like her mother and, to a degree, was Otto's counselor as much as she was his spouse. The king had known her since she was a little girl. Their families have always been close. For his daughter-in-law to have so much faith in him and Aeonar speaks volumes of her character. He had his suspicions even as far back as sixteen years ago. But now, Viserys could see it as clear as day.
ooOoo
Flashback: 14 years ago (112 AC)...
Sometimes, Viserys would watch from the Red Keep's balcony as Aeonar and Alicent enjoyed each other's company in the godswood. Even though Aeonar had many responsibilities as the heir, he still managed to find time to be with Alicent. The king observed how they gazed at each other, the small gestures of love, and began to understand how they frequently made excuses to be alone. It was like putting together a puzzle.
"They're quite taken with each other, Viserys," Aemma observed. Her swollen belly made it uncomfortable for the queen consort to remain standing. Still, there were a few days when she would be well enough to walk around before the delivery of their next child... presumably before the next tournament was announced.
"Who?" Viserys asked.
"Alicent and Aeonar. Who else would I be referring to?"
"Well... they do seem rather close, are they not? Lady Alicent is a remarkable girl, sincere and genuine." So when Viserys noticed his wife smirking, he knew something was up. "Aemma? Do you know something I don't?" he asked.
Aemma chuckled. "It's a mother's intuition to notice a change in her children. I have watched them for some time. I've seen how Aeonar looks at her, how they always find a way to place themselves next to each other." Her eyes watched them both. Then, almost smiling warmly, the queen came to terms with the fact that her son was growing up. "There is something special between those two, Viserys. It's almost too sweet for my taste. Alicent is practically like a daughter to us."
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm. Our son feels he's truly found the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. I know I promised not to say anything, but they love each other very much."
ooOoo
"Alicent..." Aemma... you... you were right. From the beginning, you were right about her. She is the perfect match for Aeonar. Always has been. "I―"
"Shhh. Don't worry, Your Grace," Alicent reassured him. "I'll have another talk with him tonight before we go to Spicetown. I promise. Just let me know if there's anything you need, okay?" Then, bowing courteously, Alicent took her leave.
As they prepared for their journey home in three days, the royal family decided to unwind at Driftmark. Viserys took the opportunity to rest, feeling renewed in his faith and hopeful that he could reconcile with Aeonar. However, he was also determined to fight off his illness until he could make amends with his son. The family was everything to him, and he was unwilling to give up easily. Aemma, his late wife, would have scolded him if he did. So instead, he was committed to healing the rift and bringing his family back together, even if it meant risking his own life.
« Do you think we can make another Freehold, father? »
"Aeonar..."
"A lover's quarrel gone wrong, steel clashes, streets run with the color red," Helaena said cryptically. "All would set in motion of things to come..."
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Aeonar, as the Hand of the King, spent the morning working in his guest room. His tasks included filing paperwork and reading petition requests, which were expected of him, just like his predecessors, Ser Otto Hightower and Lord Lyonel Strong. Additionally, he had to address the treaty violation involving Vhagar, who was promised to one of Laena's daughters but had been claimed by Aemond. With Beatrice and Unwin already sent back to King's Landing at his father's orders, Aeonar was glad to work quietly. He signed each document, sealed them with wax, stamped them, and sent them to Alwyn, his maester. "Send a raven to Dragonstone. Straight away," he instructed.
"At once, my prince," Alwyn complied.
Once the maester was gone, the Young Dragon received another visitor.
"Papa?"
Aeonar raised his head to see his daughter, Princess Aemma, who had come to see him. "Ah, my darling firefly," he rose to greet her. Then, hoisting her up on his lap, the Young Dragon allowed himself a moment of respite to spend time with his only daughter. "How's Baela and Rhaena?"
Aemma reciprocated the affectionate gesture from her father. "Good, I guess. Me and Jay kept them company. Aegon and Viserys told them jokes to make them laugh, and Daeron... he... well, you know how he is," she replied.
"Then I suppose it's fortunate that your cousins had company in these troubled times."
"Still, it makes me sad, though."
"How so?"
"Baela and Rhaena... they lost their mom. I can't imagine what they must be going through."
"Lady Laena was bold and adventurous, yet had a fiery personality matched only by her beauty. Losing a parent, one with which the child has formed a close, strong familial bond, is never easy. However, they never take such a loss well. Leaves a void in their hearts."
"Do you think they'll ever be happy again?" Aemma asked.
"In time, I think they will. But, of course, your cousins will need time to heal. So no rushing things," Aeonar advised. "You and your brothers choosing to spend time with them is reassuring. Let them know they still have family who cares for them." Aeonar gently brushed Aemma's hair away from her face and marveled at how much she resembled her mother. Despite her Valyrian silver hair and bright purple eyes, Aemma's face was the spitting image of Alicent's. Aeonar couldn't help but feel proud of his good, sweet, and innocent little girl. He knew that Aemma would one day grow to become a great beauty. When that day came, Aeonar would arrange a suitable match for her to uphold House Targaryen's ancient traditions, strengthen their family, and keep their Valyrian bloodline pure.
"Papa?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there something on my face?"
"No. No, Aemma. I found myself thinking of your own mother today. You look so much like her when she was your age."
"But mama says I have your Valyrian features."
"Aye, but you have her face."
Aemma blushed. "Papa!" she smiled bashfully. Before long, the young princess's mind drifted elsewhere. She loved her father, mother, and brothers. But something else during the funeral caused her to ask the inevitable. "Papa? What was she like?"
"Who?" Aeonar asked.
"Grandma. You had a mama, too, right?"
Aeonar was silent. He hadn't thought about his mother, Queen Aemma, in so many years until Laena's funeral ended. That only reopened old wounds and triggered a flood of memories he had fought so hard to repress.
ooOoo
Flashback: 21 years ago (105 AC)...
"Aeonar! Supper's ready!" Aemma called out. The queen scanned the area to her left and right but found no trace of him. It wasn't until she cast her gaze upward that she spotted her son descending from one of the towers in the Red Keep. "Aeonar!" she exclaimed worriedly. "What are you doing way up there?"
"Getting a better look at the city, mother," Aeonar replied as he descended. Aside from flying, climbing was one of his favorite activities. But, of course, this was a cause of concern for his mother as it caused her a deal of emotional distress. "There are so many ships coming into the harbor and merchants coming in from the Mud Gate," he finished as he lowered himself to a safe distance to jump and land perfectly on his feet. Aeonar then noticed his mother's facial expression. "M-Mother?"
"Aeonar, how many times have I told you: no more climbing? It's dangerous. I die every time you tempt fate."
"But I... I..."
"Aeonar, please," Aemma pleaded, "you are my dearest child, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself. Now please, promise me. You won't climb those towers again."
Aeonar looked at his feet in shame before returning to meet his mother's eyes. "I... I'm sorry, mother," he apologized.
Aemma then postured herself. Relieved, yet knowing her son's nature, she couldn't resist a smirk. "Do you know what?" she asked.
"What?"
"You always look at your feet before you lie."
"Uhh... Hehehe?"
Aemma rolled her eyes. "Ah, Aeonar. What am I ever going to do with you? Now come, darling. It's time for supper," she reiterated.
"I love you, mother," Aeonar said.
"I love you too, my darling boy. Come along now, sweetheart."
ooOoo
For what felt like an eternity, Aeonar didn't say a word. Then the nerves twitched and tugged at the back of his head again. He then recomposed himself. "I did," he finally told his daughter.
"Where is she?" Aemma inquired curiously.
"She's been gone for many years, Aemma."
But Aemma was more astute than many gave her credit. "You mean dead," she deduced.
"Yes..." Reaching into his coat, Aeonar unveiled a golden locket. It was one of the few mementos he had left of his mother. Tapping on the upper corner, it opened to reveal a miniature painting inside. "Here. Take a look," he beckoned. "This, firefly, is my mother. Your grandfather's first wife."
Aemma leaned over to look. The portrait depicted a beautiful highborn noblewoman with pale blue eyes and silver hair yet retained Andal features and donning a sky-blue dress. Judging by her appearance, the young princess guessed her paternal grandmother was half-Targaryen. "Wow. Grandma's so lovely, papa," she said.
"Her name was Aemma."
"Like me!"
"Yes, my dear girl. She was part of House Arryn in the Vale and the only child of one of King Jaehaerys's six daughters, Princess Daella Targaryen. Because your great-grandfather Prince Baelon and her were siblings, your grandparents were also first cousins. She was attentive, kind, and nurturing. I loved my mother more than anything in the world. I spent hours with her."
"Doing what?"
"Well, reading, playing... often driving her crazy by climbing buildings, trees or sneaking away to fly on dragonback."
"You're kidding, papa?" Aemma had a tough time imagining her father doing that in his youth.
"I was just a boy back then. Huh, the lecture she would give me every single time. She didn't think it was funny. But your grandmother was always my source of comfort whenever I needed it the most. She would have adored you and your brothers, spoiled you rotten."
"How... How did she die?"
Aeonar shook his head. "She... went into labor, but there were... complications," he said.
"Like... Like how mama was with Daeron?"
"Something like that, Aemma. But yes. Only your grandmother's situation was much worse. She died right there on the birthing bed fourteen years ago."
Oh, papa. "Is that why you're so... angry with grandpa?" Aemma suggested.
Aeonar raised an eyebrow. "You're a sharp little thing, aren't you, firefly?" he replied. Then, ruffling his daughter's hair, he gently kissed her forehead and sat her down. "It's been years, but there are a few subjects I'd rather not bring up, let alone discuss." With your mother, Aemma, at least she had a choice. Mine didn't. "You see, Aemma, unlike an injury to the body," he pointed to his left shoulder, "there is no medicine for treating a wounded heart, and sometimes, it never heals. It takes time. Most people often never understand unless faced with a similar problem."
"Do you hate him?"
Aeonar didn't answer. She is an intelligent girl, but she can be just as stubborn as her mother sometimes. But I guess that's part of our daughter's charm. "'Hate' is a strong word," he replied. "He loved us. Your grandfather is... a good man." But a weak one. A soft, ineffective man whose actions have nearly corrupted our house and name. So long as I'm around, that won't happen.
That doesn't answer my question, papa. "But you do love grandpa like mama and aunt Rhaenyra? Right?"
"Aemma―"
Just then, amid their conversation, Farrier entered the room. "Pardon the interruption, my Lord Hand," he stated calmly. "But our agents have passed along word that there is trouble brewing in Spicetown."
Aeonar looked up at his chief agent. "What kind?" he demanded.
"Word had somehow made its way anonymously to Ser Qarl Correy that Ser Laenor was seen last night having an affair with one of the town's young sailors and is moving to confront him. With a blade, I must say."
That sounds like trouble. "Farrier, go inform Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys at once." Aeonar turned to his daughter. "Aemma, find your aunt. Go. Now!"
"O-Okay," Aemma quickly fled the room to find Rhaenyra.
Farrier took off searching for the Sea Snake and rallied House Velaryon's guards.
Aeonar quickly rushed towards Spicetown on foot, and walking to Driftmark's main port town would take too long. His supporters were working to inform House Velaryon's leadership and household men-at-arms about the alarming report from Farrier, which indicated that Ser Laenor was in grave danger. Damn you, Laenor! Why didn't you stay put at High Tide?!
Driftmark ― Spicetown...
As night fell, the bustling town of Spicetown came alive with festivities. Merchants from all over had gathered at the port to trade their goods for coin, drawing in both locals and sailors eager to make purchases before departing on their next voyage or harbor work.
For Laenor, it was a chance to escape the troubles of the past few days. So he wandered far from the fair, seeking solace in solitude – aside from being accompanied by one of High Tide's young wards. Ultimately, he decided to finally send his lover Qarl away with his father's crew to eliminate the Triarchy remnant forces in the Stepstones before returning to King's Landing to fulfill his duties as prince consort to Rhaenyra Targaryen and captain of Aeonar's Honor Guard. It was the least Laenor could do to make up for being an absent father. But as he turned the corner, he spotted a visibly distressed Qarl sheathing a dagger in its sheath. Judging by the look on his face, Laenor determined Qarl found out about him having an affair and was upset about it. "Qarl?" he said, confused.
Qarl looked at him with a devoid look in his eyes. "Ten years," he stated. "I devoted myself to you for ten years. You've treated me with nothing but kindness, but now I see it was all a lie. Our relationship meant absolutely nothing to you." He approached aggressively. "I should have known you were always looking down on me."
"Just calm down, Qarl. Please, calm the hell down." His stance and the look in his eyes; he's aiming to attack me. Laenor raised his guard, watching Qarl circling him in a threatening manner. Only when he unsheathed his sword did the heir to Driftmark know this was serious. "Qarl, you forget yourself," he warned.
"My lords, please!" the young ward pleaded.
"Call for help. GO!" Laenor unsheathed his sword.
"I-I'll alert the guards!"
Amidst a heated altercation, Laenor and Qarl were engaged in a fierce sword fight, much to the dismay of Laenor's young ward, who fled from the scene. Qarl, a skilled swordsman with an impressive reputation for his accomplishments in the Stepstones, proved to be a formidable opponent as he relentlessly attacked Laenor with a barrage of blows. Despite Laenor's attempts to defend himself, he struggled to match Qarl's skill and strength. Then, in a sudden turn of events, Qarl punched Laenor's face, causing him to stagger. Qarl swung his sword with fierce intent, but Laenor dodged it quickly, causing the blade to clang against a nearby boulder. The intensity of the fight left the air thick with tension as the two combatants stood, panting heavily, assessing their next move. This was somewhat different from one of their regular sparring sessions. Laenor now realized this was indeed a bitter fight to the death. No matter what he said or did, nothing could stop Qarl from taking out his frustrations and sense of betrayal on him. Delivering blow after blow, both men locked swords in a bitter power struggle before Qarl spat in Laenor's face. Laenor exclaimed in disgust and staggered back, allowing Qarl an opening to deliver repeated stab wounds and striking Laenor center mass.
"Gugh!"
Qarl panted angrily, only stopping to realize what he had just done. His hands gripped the hilt tightly as the blade ran red with the warm fluid of Laenor Velaryon, who slowly loosened his grip and looked blankly into his lover's face.
"Wh... Why...?"
With a sudden jolt, Qarl stepped back, staring in disbelief as Laenor collapsed to the ground, blood spilling out. He felt a wave of horror wash over him as he realized the gravity of his actions. No amount of apologies could undo the harm he had caused or bring back the only son and heir of Lord Corlys. But as the sound of approaching Velaryon knights grew louder, Qarl knew he had to flee from Driftmark immediately. So he raced off in the opposite direction, injuring several men who tried to stop him, desperately searching for a ship he could control.
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Corlys and Rhaenys immediately raced to Spicetown, accompanied by Aeonar, Rhaenyra, and several of their Targaryen and Velaryon guardsmen. After receiving word from Farrier, they immediately ran to Spicetown, hoping to intercept Laenor's assailant. But, unfortunately, the Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark had much more to lose. He had already lost his daughter; he couldn't afford to lose his only son as well.
"This way, my lord! They're over here!" a guard shouted.
Despite their loveless marriage, Rhaenyra cared deeply for Laenor and worried about his safety. Hence, she decided to join her brother and in-laws in the search for the sake of her three sons. But unfortunately, they arrived too late, which was unexpected.
"No, no, no! Don't move him! Don't move him!"
Corlys and Rhaenys could barely believe their eyes as their only remaining child was lying in a pool of his own blood. But as a mother, the Queen Who Never Was, took this loss the hardest.
"N-Noo! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!~ WAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!" Rhaenys howled in anguish.
"How did you let this happen!? Letting him wander off alone with no escort?!" Corlys furiously berated his guards. "TELL ME!!!"
As the chaos unfolded before them, Aeonar and Rhaenyra watched as the last of the Sea Snake's offspring extinguished. Without Laenor, the future of House Velaryon was put in jeopardy. Rhaenyra gasped as her husband was dead; Aeonar, on the other hand, stared at Laenor's corpse before a dragon's screech reached his ears. He looked up and saw Vaelor flying overhead toward a ship sailing off in the distance. Presuming the assassin was onboard, Aeonar watched his dragon circling the ship before obliterating it in a sea of fire. However, suspecting that the assailant must have reacted quickly enough to jump overboard, the Young Dragon seized his chance.
"Lord Corlys! Over there!" Aeonar pointed.
Corlys looked out to see a ship on fire. Suspecting that his son's killer was there, the Sea Snake began barking orders at his men. "Don't just stand there, you fucking imbeciles! GET THOSE SHIPS OUT OF THE HARBOR!! I WANT MY SON'S KILLER BROUGHT BEFORE ME!! NOW!!" he yelled.
Velaryon knights and sailors raised Spicetown's alarm bells, exclaiming from the local populace. Within moments, the ships Sea Snake, Bold Marilda, and Morning Tide were deployed to the sinking flaming wreckage. If there were any survivors, they would be hauled in for questioning. And with Vaelor hovering above them, the Swiftrunner worked to ensure that none would escape from him. His crimson eyes scanned the surface of the water for any suspicious movement. And when the dragon spotted something, he vocalized a screeching roar to let his master know he found something... or someone.