Aerion stood staring at his Aunt Laena's coffin and desperately begged whichever gods were listening (whether they were the old gods, the new, or even the gods of Old Valyria) for this dreadful funeral to end.
The sun was glinting off the ocean and into his eyes as he stood alongside his family on the edge of one of Driftmark's many cliffs. His mother had her arms around Jace and Luke, while his father had a hand on his shoulder. Aerion assumed that it had been meant to be comforting, but as the funeral dragged on his father's grip had become so tight that his fingers were digging into Aerion's skin.
Earlier, both Corlys and Rhaenys had shared beautiful eulogies about their lost daughter. Aerion had expected his father to cry, but instead he had kept his eyes firmly fixed down towards the sea, grip slowly tightening the longer his parents spoke.
Thankfully, they had finally moved to the final stage of the service where his aunt's body would be committed back to the sea as was befit for a true Velaryon. His great uncle Vaemond took charge of this part of the service, speaking in High Valyrian as he gave Lady Laena her final farewell.
"Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true," Vaemond proclaimed, fixing his gaze firmly on Aerion and his brothers. Aerion slightly tensed, gritting his teeth. He stared back at Vaemond steadily, doing his best to keep his expression stoic and unbothered. He was of true Velaryon blood. Maybe not by birth, but he was his father's son and he refused to let anyone take that away from him.
"And ours must never thin," Vaemond's eyes were dark and unyielding as he kept them fixed on Aerion's. He supposed his great uncle had a particular hatred for him since he would be the one to inherit Driftmark.
Daemon's sudden chuckle broke their stares from one another as they both turned to look at him. He seemed amused by Vaemond's speech and the idea that he was basically proclaiming to all who knew High Valyrian that he thought Aerion and his brothers were bastards. He seemed dismissive of the entire idea or, at the very least, was trying to redirect Vaemond's attention onto himself
To his relief, it worked. Vaemond's mouth pressed into a thin line before he sharply turned his head away from Daemon and nodded to the men who were in charge of lowering Laena's coffin into the sea.
Aerion glanced over at Aegon who was pretending to be appropriately somber, but he knew him well enough to see the boredom on his face. Clearly, Aegon hadn't made much progress with his High Valyrian, otherwise he may have been more entertained by Vaemond's previous speech. He would have to inform him later about what Vaemond had said.
Vaemond continued his eulogy, but thankfully turned his words back to focusing on Lady Laena as her coffin was pushed over the edge of the cliff and into the sea below where her body would rest, forever surrounded by the gentle lull of the sea.
Once the funeral was over, they were redirected to the reception which was being held on the main terrace of High Tide. Aerion didn't see the point of having a reception after a funeral. He hadn't known his aunt well enough to be overcome with grief, but he couldn't imagine having to sit around and put on a brave face after having had to say goodbye to a loved one for the last time.
At some point in between the cliffs and now, his father had slipped away to grieve in private. At least, that was what Aerion assumed. His mother had gone into the castle not long after in search of him.
He and Jace stood quietly by the terrace wall, gazing out at the sea. "This is horrible," Jace said softly. "We should have been able to go to Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin's funeral."
Aerion quickly swung his gaze back to his brother. "That's ridiculous."
Jace crossed his arms. "We have as much right to be grieving as Baela and Rhaena."
"You shouldn't say things like that here," Aerion muttered, quickly glancing around the crowd to see if anyone was paying attention to them and their conversation.
"Ser Harwin was my friend," Jace reminded him. "No matter what else he might have been."
Aerion sighed. He knew his brother had a different outlook on things than he did. Sometimes Aerion thought he was more naïve, but perhaps he was simply more confident in himself. It was hard to tell. Either way, he hadn't avoided Ser Harwin like Aerion had while they were growing up.
"You're right," he finally agreed. "But people would have just whispered more if we'd gone. They see what they want to see."
"I guess," Jace said with a sigh. "At least we can be done with funerals for a while."
That was a relief for him as well. He wasn't sure if he could take much more of the painful, cutting silence grief had caused their family lately.
Aerion scanned the crowd, looking to see if he could spot Aegon. Usually this was a fairly easy task considering his Targaryen silver hair, but in a funeral full of Velaryons and Targaryens, silver hair was everywhere. He lifted himself onto his tiptoes to try and peer over the heads of the crowd and finally spotted Aegon's familiar figure standing beside his brother near the tent that had been erected on the terrace.
"You should go say hello," Jace said, clearly already knowing exactly who Aerion had been looking for.
He shook his head. "No, I'll stay with you." He wanted to see Aegon, but he'd made a promise to be there for his brother and he didn't intend to break it. He didn't want Jace to deal with the full force of his parents' grief on his own.
"I'll be fine. Our parents will be back any moment and I know you miss him," Jace said firmly. "Go."
"I see you're already practicing giving out orders for when you become king," Aerion joked.
Jace slightly blushed like he always did whenever someone brought up the fact he was the future king of Westeros. The idea made him unbearably nervous, though Aerion couldn't fathom why. There was no one more honorable than his brother or who would have made a better king once their mother had passed.
He shot Jace one last grateful smile before he moved away from the railing and towards where Aegon was standing. Before he could reach him though, his grandfather caught sight of him and smiled, waving him over.
Aerion quickly changed his direction to walk over to him instead. He didn't get to see his grandfather as often as he wished. His duties as Master of Ships and as Lord of the Tides kept him incredibly busy. Still, he had fond memories of sailing around the Blackwater with him whenever his grandfather found the time. He'd also been the one who taught Aerion how to swim, holding his arms out and promising to catch him when he'd been young and frightened. There had never been a moment during those lessons when his grandfather hadn't caught him.
Despite the somber mood, Aerion couldn't help but give his grandfather a small smile that was quickly returned. "It's good to see you, Aerion. It's been too long," his grandfather said.
"I agree. We'll have to go sailing together soon."
"I'm afraid that might not be possible. I may need to sail to the Stepstones soon to deal with the unrest that's breaking out there. Once I return though, we'll sail together, I promise." His grandfather put a hand on his shoulder. "I wanted to speak to you about something."
"Yes?"
"Vaemond was right."
Aerion felt his blood run cold. "Oh?" he asked weakly.
"Velaryons have salt in their blood and I've never seen any lad take as quickly to the ocean as you did. Both my seat and High Tide will be yours one day. Your brother will be king, of course. He'll sit on endless councils and ceremonies, but Lord of the Tides rules the sea. I have no doubt that you will rule just as ably as I have. Ours runs true," he finished in High Valyrian, echoing his brother's words from earlier. "Do not ever doubt that, Aerion."
"I...thank you," Aerion said quickly, overwhelmed by his grandfather's kind words. It comforted him to know that his grandfather still supported him, even if his great uncle did not.
His grandfather gently put a hand on his arm. "It's your birthright, lad. Remember that."
Aerion quickly nodded, suddenly desperately wishing that his grandfather didn't have to potentially leave for the Stepstones in the near future.
His grandfather ruffled his hair fondly before he made his way back into the crowd, looking strong and imposing despite his grief. It was hard for Aerion to imagine that he would ever be able to fill his place one day, but in that moment he promised himself he would do whatever it took to make his grandfather proud and not regret allowing Aerion to succeed him, despite all who said he was unworthy of the position.
He would prove them all wrong and do his best to live up to the faith his grandfather had in him.
Glancing through the crowd again, he was thankfully able to spot Aegon still standing in relatively the same place as before. He made his way to him, feeling lighter the closer he got to him.
Aegon turned and spotted him quickly, a large smile spreading across his features. "Aerion!" he called out, his voice slightly too loud. In his left hand, he held one of the goblets of wine that were being passed around by the servants throughout the reception.
Once he got close enough, Aegon suddenly reached out to throw his arm around Aerion's shoulders and pull him close to his side. Aerion stumbled slightly, taken by surprise from the sudden affection.
Aegon only laughed. "I've missed you dearly!" he declared, taking a drink from the goblet in his hand.
Aegon may have refused to let Aerion accompany him to the many taverns he frequented, but that didn't mean he couldn't tell when Aegon was drunk. He glanced over to Aemond who was clearly annoyed with his brother's antics. "How many has he had?"
"Two glasses since I've been standing here," Aemond muttered. "Who knows how many before then."
"I'm standing right here," Aegon whined. "Besides, it's a party."
"It's a funeral," Aerion said in exasperation. As annoying as drunk Aegon could be, he couldn't deny that he was happy to simply see him, no matter what state he was in.
"Even more reason to keep drinking," Aegon commented, waving down another serving girl in order to trade his empty glass for a new one.
"I think you're had more than enough." Aerion quickly snatched the glass out of Aegon's slightly uncoordinated grasp.
"It'll be my last glass, I promise," Aegon said. Aerion didn't believe that in the slightest and he gave Aegon a pointed look to indicate exactly how much faith he put into his words.
"Aerion!" Aegon whined in protest.
"No."
Aegon gave him a wounded look for a few moments before he smirked. Aerion barely had time to consider what Aegon was up to before he suddenly moved forward and kissed Aerion's cheek.
He froze in shock, his cheeks heating up violently. Aegon took advantage of his distraction to snatch the goblet out of his hands and take a large sip.
"Aegon!" he hissed out, feeling his face heat more under Aegon's smug gaze.
"You're adorable!" he replied brightly before launching into a rendition of a song that rhymed dragon with flagon that Aerion wasn't entirely certain he wasn't making up on the spot.
"You're both ridiculous," Aemond said flatly. He had the tendency to be brooding, but he seemed to be in a worse mood than usual today.
"I'm doing my best!" Aerion complained, glancing around to see if there was anywhere somewhat private where he could take Aegon.
He still felt like his cheek was burning from the brief brush of Aegon's lips against his skin, though he kept emphatically reminding himself that Aegon was clearly drunk. It didn't mean anything.
Just as he was about to drag Aegon down a nearby staircase, he heard a throat clear beside them. He quickly looked over to see his mother watching them and looking unimpressed.
"You should give your condolences to your cousins. They've just lost their mother," she said, ignoring Aegon who was still hanging off of him.
"Sister!" Aegon crowed, pulling Aerion closer to his side. He resisted the urge to elbow him. Aegon only called Rhaenyra his sister when he wanted to annoy her.
"Aegon," she acknowledged before turning her attention back to Aerion. "Now Aerion."
He thought about arguing with her, but in the end, his mother was probably right. Baela and Rhaena had to be feeling alone, surrounded on all sides by people they didn't know after having grown up in Pentos most of their lives. Also, he knew his mother wouldn't back down until he did what she wanted. He'd never met anyone more stubborn.
"Okay, one moment," he said. His mother nodded and moved back into the crowd, but Aerion had no doubt she still had her eye on him.
He turned towards where Aemond had been standing, planning to pass Aegon off to him only to find that he'd disappeared in the course of his conversation with his mother.
He sighed. "Aegon, do you see those stairs?" he nodded towards them.
"Mhmm."
"Wait for me there, okay? I'll be right back."
Aegon released him and made his way towards the stairs, whistling the tune of his dragon song. Aerion figured there was a 50/50 chance he'd still be there when he finished speaking with his cousins.
He headed toward the area where Baela and Rhaena were sitting with his grandmother, suddenly feeling a bit apprehensive about what he should say. He was supposed to offer his condolences, but those were only words. He didn't see how they would help much.
Still, he approached them all the same. Both girls quickly looked up as he approached, tear tracks on their cheeks. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, the words feeling hollow and inadequate even as he said them. "And for yours as well, grandmother."
His grandmother gave him a strained smile. "Thank you, Aerion. You're a sweet boy."
He wanted to say more, but he couldn't find any words. Baela was watching him with sad eyes, but Aerion could see the stern set of her jaw and the way she was clearly trying to keep a brave face intact in front of her sister and all the onlookers around them.
He'd only met Laena a few times, but the expression reminded him so much of her that the words suddenly tumbled out of him. "Your mother took me riding on Vhagar once when she came to King's Landing to visit my father. It was the scariest dragon ride of my life, but she laughed the entire time. I remember thinking she was the bravest dragon rider I had ever met."
Baela slowly nodded, the weakest of smiles on her face. "She was brave."
"And kind," Rhaena added with a slight sniffle.
"Very kind," Aerion agreed. "She had to spend at least five minutes convincing me that Vhagar wasn't going to eat me before we even got to the riding part."
"Vhagar is a bit scary if you don't know her," Rhaena said. "I'm going to try and claim her soon."
Aerion suddenly remembered that only Baela had a dragon. His heart went out to Rhaena. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like if only Jace's egg had hatched in his cradle.
"The hour draws late," his grandmother said, gently pulling both of her granddaughters closer to her. "You've all had a long day and should get some rest."
After a few more shared words, Aerion was able to slip away as his grandmother took his cousins inside the castle. He made his way to the steps he sent Aegon to wait on, relieved to see him passed out on the landing.
He went to his side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Aegon."
He made an intelligible sound of protest, but he did slightly open his eyes. "Aerion...?" he asked blearily.
"It's me," he said, glancing down at the goblet by Aegon's side. He was uncertain if this was the one he'd stolen from him or a new one all together.
Aegon suddenly reached out, expression pleading. "Sit with me."
Aerion glanced toward the top of the steps. Somebody could come down at any time and see Aegon like this. But then again, there were still tons of people up on the terrace they would need to walk past in order to get Aegon inside. It might be a better idea to wait for them to clear out a bit.
Decision made, he sat on the landing beside Aegon, slightly surprised when he was instantly pulled into Aegon's arms. He knew he should protest in case someone saw them, but it had been a long, horrible day and he was tired. So instead, he laid his head on Aegon's shoulder, taking a deep and calming breath for what felt like the first time that day.
It didn't take long for Aegon to doze back off, though his hold around Aerion didn't weaken as if even subconsciously he was worried he would suddenly disappear. The sky overhead started to dip towards a hazy twilight and the first few stars were appearing above them. Distantly, he heard the call of a dragon though he couldn't tell which one it was. Vhagar perhaps, mourning her lost rider.
They sat together in silence before Aegon suddenly mumbled, "Aerion?"
"Hmm?"
"I have something to tell you..."
Aerion instantly remembered Aegon's parting words to him the last time they'd met and quickly looked up at him with interest. "What?"
Aegon mumbled indistinctly and before Aerion could ask him to repeat himself, he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He quickly looked up and met the cold eyes of Otto Hightower.
He froze as Otto continued down the steps to them, expression as tempestuous as any storm on Dragonstone. "What are you two doing?"
"I was helping Aegon," Aerion said, trying not to feel embarrassed by how small his voice sounded. He'd always been more than a little afraid of Otto. There was something about the way he looked at Aerion as if he was a small bug that he desperately wanted to crush underneath his shoe that freaked him out.
"Helping him drink himself into a stupor, I see."
He saw no point in arguing that Aegon had done that on his own.
"And to sit here like this is completely indecent," he continued, voice clipped with barely contained rage.
"Like what?" Aerion asked innocently. He knew he shouldn't push Otto, but if he was going to make reference to his and Aegon's closeness, he was going to force him to say it plainly.
Otto's eyes narrowed. "Stay away from my grandson. He doesn't need you poisoning his mind with godless thoughts."
Aerion could feel rage slowly building up inside his chest, but he forced himself to take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He didn't want to make a scene at his aunt's funeral.
Instead of answering Otto, he roughly shook Aegon's shoulder. "Wake up."
"Huh?"
"You need to get yourself to bed," Otto cut in sharply.
Aegon slowly looked up at Otto and then back to Aerion, the reality of the situation filtering in. Aerion pushed himself to his feet and carefully helped Aegon up.
"I'll take him," Otto muttered, roughly grabbing onto Aegon's shoulder and pulling him away from Aerion's side.
He opened his mouth to protest the rough treatment, but Aegon sent him a quick pleading look that made him keep his mouth shut as Otto dragged Aegon up the stairs.
It was only after they were gone that he realized his hands were tightly clenched with his nails digging into his palms. He slowly relaxed them, studying the angry red marks where his nails had been.
He only looked up again when he heard his twin's voice. "There you are. Mother said it was time for us to go to bed."
Aerion obediently followed his brother inside, but his mind was far away. The Hightowers would be leaving in the morning. If he wanted to hear what Aegon had to say, he needed to see him later tonight once he'd sobered up a bit. He went through the motions of getting ready for bed along with his brothers, already counting down the minutes until he would be able to sneak out and speak to Aegon later in the night.
____________________________________________________________
A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to really quickly thank everyone who has read, commented, or voted on this story. I cherish every one and it means so much to me that people are enjoying reading about these two as much as I enjoy writing them!