Chapter 2: A Dragon's Family

Chapter Text

Aerion untied his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders as he entered his tent and began to unbuckle his gauntlets. They fell to the floor and he crossed to the table, where some servant had left a bowl of water for him to wash in. He began to clean his hands methodically and watched as the water turned red. 

He turned over the fight in his head, his mind filling with images of the violence. Aerion saw once again the flashes of steel as they came at him, almost felt the shudder in his bones as he blocked blow after blow. Heard echoes of the knight's words ringing in his head, boiling in his veins.

He would have lost himself in the memory of that fury once more had Rodrik not entered the tent abruptly. Blinking several times to dispel the images at the front of his mind, he shook his hands dry and continued to remove his armour, starting with his sword.

'Congratulations on your win, my prince. How are you feeling?' Rodrik's voice broke the silence between them,

'I am well, of course. Your training saw me well and I was victorious.'

Rodrik moved closer and reached to help with the armour and between them it soon rested on the floor.

The older man sighed and finally looked Aerion in the eyes. 'You killed a man, prince. Taking a life is not something that can go without consequence. Whether you are punished by another man, or cursed to remember his face for the rest of your days, killing is a weight you will forever bear.'

Aerion fiddled with the golden clasps of his gambeson and opened it, revealing his sweat-drenched tunic.

'Rodrik, you heard what he said. In full view of the Lords of the realm, in front of the King, he called me dragonless. No one does that and keeps their life.'

He pulled the tunic over his head and planted himself on the daybed, kicking his legs up. 'The man got what he deserved and now he rests with his gods.'

He closed his eyes, blocking out Rodrik's judgemental stare. What did he expect Aerion to feel? Remorse? For achieving his dream and defending his own honour and reputation? No. All he felt with the adrenaline fading from his body and joy in his victory.

A Targaryen had no room for remorse, anyway.

'He yielded.' Rodrik called out.

'Hm?' Aerion responded, raising an eyebrow.

'The whole arena heard him yield, and you killed him anyway.' Rodrik's voice was loud enough to be heard by anyone nearby.

Standing and grabbing an apple for himself, Aerion took a bite. 'And I may have accepted that, had he not insulted me.'

'You need to learn to control your anger, my prince. It will not serve you well in duels to come.'

'That anger is the reason I won today. It makes me stronger.' He tossed aside the remainder of the apple and wiped his mouth. 

'I respect your counsel, Rodrik, truly. But never raise your voice to me again. I will be your lord one day, and I am a Prince of the Realm.'

'I apologise, my prince.' Rodrik bowed his head to appease his protege. 'I only seek to warn you. Your mother will not be pleased to hear of her heir making enemies of other houses.'

'Very well. Let that be the end of it; you are free for the day.' Aerion said and Rodrik nodded before turning on his heel and leaving the tent.

Aerion grabbed hold of the jug of summer wine and a copper goblet, filling it absentmindedly until it almost spilled onto the table.

'You seemed to have made a lasting impression on my father, I do not think he has spoken to a single lord without mentioning your name.' 

Caught off guard by the voice, Aerion spilled some of the wine down his tunic.

'Princess, forgive me. I was not expecting you'. He turned to face her quickly and set his goblet down, glancing between the teasing smile on her lips and the growing stain on his chest.

His eyes flickered up and down her figure; he had noticed her black dress from the amphitheatre, but now he had time to admire how the fabric clung to her and how well she suited the dark red embroidered flames that ran up her sleeves. Although she wore no coronet or headpiece, she looked every inch a princess. Rhaenyra's very presence was commanding and he felt he could almost see the queen she would be.

Aerion dared to meet her eyes once more; a darker violet than his, with an unsettling fire behind her eyes that he recognised.

'I thought to speak with the man who won my favour,' she said, crossing the room and reaching past him for the goblet he had been drinking from. Rhaenyra kept her eyes on his as she sipped the wine sweetly, her pink tongue darting out to catch a drop of wine. He was mesmerised by the movement and took a hesitant step back as he felt a flush of arousal. What was it about her that made him feel so?

He cleared his throat and smiled back at her. Her mouth had tilted into a smirk at his awkwardness. He needed to stop looking at her mouth. 'You, uh…you honour me, princess. Though I fear for your reputation. What if people were to get the wrong impression?'

Aerion felt he was regaining his usual confidence; slipping easily back into the cocky facade he so often wore. 'Scandalous.' he smirked. 

Rhaenyra scoffed. 'It is hardly scandalous. We are family, after all. I have waited so long to meet my cousin in the Vale.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You have?'

He was surprised by her comment; he had never imagined that she had thought of him as he had of her. King's Landing had always seemed so far from Runestone; so much more glamorous. Rhaenyra had grown up a dragonrider, the youngest ever in their family and he had grown up the overlooked son of parents who had hated one another. What cause would she have had to think of him?

'Am I as you expected, cousin?' he questioned, moving past her to reach for his belt and sword. 

'I don't know you well enough to answer that.' Rhaenyra turned to watch him and his actions stilled as their eyes met once more. He inhaled, trying to clear his head, and caught the scent of roses that she must have applied that morning. Aerion found himself unconsciously leaning towards her and bit his lip. He needed fresh air; he needed time to think. 

'I hope to get to know you better during my stay, princess. I understand why I have heard you named the Realm's Delight; your beauty could make a man forget his own name.'

'You flatter me, cousin.' she said, and broke eye contact. She did not otherwise react to his comment. 'I must get back to my father; he will surely be looking for me.'

'It was a pleasure, Princess.' he replied, bowing his head.

'I shall see you tonight. My father is very happy to have you join us for dinner.' With that, she swept from the tent, glancing over her shoulder at him before disappearing through the tent flaps.

'Fuck,' he sighed, slamming his fist down on the table. Why had he complimented her in such a way? The last thing he wanted was for Rhaenyra to dismiss him as just another of the pig-headed men who saw nothing beyond her face. He'd regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth but was unable to recall them from the stillness between them.

Something was different about her. She was beautiful, of course, but there was something almost otherworldly about the way she moved, the way her words ensnared him. It was as though a thread joined them together, and when she was near he could almost feel a tug towards her. 

He hated that he knew nothing of what drew him to her.

Aerion downed the last of the wine and left the tent, weaving through the crowds on horseback. Back at the Red Keep, he returned to his chambers to bathe again and dress for dinner, outfitting himself in a fine black tunic with matching trousers and boots. A large ruby gleamed on his finger as he was escorted to the King's private dining chamber within Maegor's Holdfast.

The doors opened to reveal Princess Rhaenyra seated to the right of the King's chair, goblet in one hand and weathered book in the other. She had changed since he saw her last, and now wore a dark red dress with a golden dragon curling around the base.

'We need to stop meeting like this, princess.' he spoke as he stalked towards her, the doors closing with a boom behind him.

She arched a delicate eyebrow at him, unimpressed. Closing her book, she leaned back in her chair and sipped her wine. 'Whatever do you mean, cousin?'

'Only that we are alone, once more. Where is the King?'

'He will be here shortly, Aerion. You are rather early. Sit, tell me about Runestone; I am keen to hear of the place my uncle so dreads.'

He took a seat next to her and filled his own cup with Arbor gold. 'I do hate to disappoint, but it is one thing my father and I can agree on. It is nothing but sheep and shit as far as the eye can see. Runestone itself is an impressive holding, but in truth I dread the day my mother passes and the Valemen look to me as their lord.'

'Do you not feel capable of being their lord?'

'Nothing like that, cousin. I fear being tied to a place I have longed to leave my whole life. I have always known my destiny was greater than the valleys and mountains of the Vale, yet how can I achieve it when I am trapped there?'

As he spoke, he barely noticed that his hand was spinning the goblet on the table in circles until Rhaenyra pointed it out.

'Do I make you nervous? How is it that you, a ruthless warrior, are made uneasy by your princess?' She leaned over and rested a hand on his wrist, stilling his movements. Aerion was even more confused than he had been just a few hours ago in his tent. For all intents and purposes, the Princess was betrothed. Did she know what she was doing to him? He couldn't help his heart beating faster at her touch; he was hyper-aware of the skin she was touching.

'You are heir to the Iron Throne; I doubt there is a single man who has never been on edge in your presence.'

Rhaenyra scoffed and let go of his hand. 'Those men do not take me seriously. No matter that I sit on the Small Council, that I am the heir to the Iron Throne, they will never see me as anything more than a naive girl and a pretty face.'  

'I believe you will make a great queen, Rhaenyra. The first queen in our Kingdom's history; you have a unique opportunity to create change in Westeros. I will support your cause always, this I swear.' He bowed his head as he spoke.

She grinned at him and sipped her wine once more. 'Kind words, cousin. Thank you.'

'That being said, I worry your father will want to engage in conversation about my own.'

'Father prefers to avoid any topic that might involve Daemon, now more than ever.' 

A faint smile graced Aerion's lips and he turned his head as the doors opened and the guards announced Viserys as he strode into the room.

Aerion remained seated as the King walked past him, Queen Alicent on his arm. Otto Hightower, former Hand of the King, brought up the rear.

He had never seen the Hightowers before, and as little as he disliked them on principle, he could not deny that the Queen was a beautiful woman, wearing a deep green dress that accented her auburn hair. She was of an age with Rhaenyra, perhaps one or two years older, yet next to the Valyrian beauty, she paled in comparison.

He managed to contain a sneer as he noticed the Seven Pointed Star she wore around her neck; he had never had much respect or understanding for the Faith.

'Nephew, I am pleased to see you here; you have been absent from the Keep for far too long.'

 Aerion nodded, 'I quite agree, uncle. I have been away from our family too long.'

Viserys smiled at that, and gestured for him to approach.

'Allow me to introduce my queen, Alicent Hightower.'

She stretched out a hand and he lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. 

'A pleasure to meet you, your Grace. Truly, the bards do not do justice to your beauty.' Alicent smiled and thanked him.

'And you, Prince Aerion. I have been most curious to meet Daemon's son, and I can see you are his spitting image.'

She moved to her seat on Viserys' left and her father sat opposite Aerion.

'Of course, her father, Lord Otto Hightower.' The two men simply nodded to one another, and Aerion took a long sip from his goblet. He had a feeling it would be a long night.

He watched as the servants brought out the first course, a roasted duck surrounded by various vegetables and covered in seasonings, accompanied by a variety of potatoes and breads. 

'A prayer before we begin, husband?' Alicent looked to Viserys, who nodded. The Hightowers closed their eyes, and the King bowed his head. Aerion and Rhaenyra shared an amused glance, and he realised she too must follow their Valyrian gods.

'May the Mother shine down on this gathering with love, may the Warrior protect Aerion in the duels to come, and may the Smith forge a bond among us that will remain unbroken for years to come.' she finished, opening her eyes and smiling at Aerion.

'Your words move me, my queen, I am sure after that prayer, the gods will carry me to victory.' he said with a touch of sarcasm, sharing a grin with Rhaenyra.

'I shall pray for your victory, nephew, although I saw today that you possess great skill with a sword.' she returned graciously, gesturing for a servant to fill her plate.

'How fares Lady Rhea, my Prince?' his head turned to look at Otto, and Aerion stood, grabbing his knife and leaning forward to carve a piece of the duck for himself.

'My mother is well, though I am afraid that is all I know of her..' he carved a small chunk off the duck he had gathered, took a bite, and continued to talk while chewing.

 'Since I began my training for the duels, I have rarely had time to say more than a few words to her.' 

His answer seemed to have satisfied Otto, who only nodded in response.

He glanced to his left and observed Alicent murmuring in the King's ear. He could not know, but was sure that her pleasantries hid a distaste for him and his actions earlier that day. Aerion could not stand the overly pious, but it could not be denied that Alicent and Otto held a huge amount of sway over the King and therefore the Small Council.

'I do not think she likes me,' he whispered to the Princess, who hid an amused smirk behind her hand as she speared a green bean.

'My King, I have a boon to ask. I wondered if I may steal Rhaenyra from her studies and duties for a few hours each day of my visit. No doubt she is an expert on Valyrian history and our language and I have longed to learn more of our heritage'

He gave Viserys a broad smile. 'Not to mention I would be honoured to become better acquainted with my cousin and future Queen.'

'A wonderful idea, nephew. I should have suggested it myself; I have often longed for our family to be as close knit as we once were.' Viserys responded, and a nostalgic smile crossed Rhaenyra's face.

'What say you, daughter? Truly, you have an excellent command of Valyrian, not to mention our history and dragonlore.'

'I would be more than willing to assist Aerion, Father.' she responded, smiling at Aerion.

Alicent frowned slightly and reached to intertwine her hand with Viserys'. 

'Husband, is this wise? Perhaps it is not so appropriate for them to be alone, with the princess' wedding but a few weeks hence?'

Aerion couldn't help scoffing at her words. Ridiculous. Except that she had every reason to be concerned. 

The Queen looked at him and her eyebrows drew together. "I mean no offence, Aerion, truly. I would hate for Rhaenyra and Laenor's happy union to be tainted by baseless rumours.' 

Rhaenyra looked furious, and rose from her chair. 'I will enjoy the company of whomever I choose, and no one will dictate otherwise, especially not you.' she spat.

Aerion bit back a chuckle, and leaned away from Rhaenyra slightly. Clearly the two women shared a history, and their relationship had soured. The tension between them could be cut with a knife.

He looked to the King, who looked furious himself. 'ENOUGH'! he snapped, slamming his hand down on the table and standing.

'I do not recall inviting children to this table. You have been at each other's throats for weeks, and I care not as to why.'

'Alicent, you should know better than to insinuate that my heir and nephew would allow for any sort of rumour. Aerion is not his father. He will act with honour in the presence of my daughter.'

Aerion nodded solemnly as best he could.

'Sit down, Rhaenyra. Such a comment did not warrant an outburst.'

She sat quietly at her father's command, and their eyes met before hers slid to the floor.

Viserus sighed heavily, suddenly looking as though the weight of his years and station weighed on him all at once.

He sat and rubbed his face with one hand. 'I apologise, nephew. I had hoped your presence would help my family to set aside their differences for an evening.'

Aerion's eyes widened imperceptibly and he bit his lip to hold himself from saying something he may later regret. His uncle had blatantly admitted to using him as a buffer between the Queen and the Princess for the evening.

'My queen, I swear on my honour that nothing would come to pass between my cousin and I. I respect the sanctity of her betrothal, and would never approach her in such a way regardless. I have the greatest respect for her wishes and of course the King's.

Otto scoffed and Aerion raised an eyebrow in his direction.

'Honour…you know not what it is.' He turned to Viserys.

'Your nephew has been in King's Landing for all of one day and is already stirring trouble amongst the houses. House Bracken wants his head on a spike for slaying their knight despite the entire amphitheatre hearing him yield. I recommend that he is eliminated from the duels.'

'I think not, Otto.' Viserys decided. 'Whilst I was taken aback at first glance, I'm certain it was all a misunderstanding. Lord Strong will speak to Lord Bracken; make it clear that it was a slip of the knife and that gold will be given to the knight's family.''

'Your Grace, surely you know that they will not be quieted by that, if-' 

'I believe the King has made up his mind, my Lord. Best not to dwell.' Aerion interrupted, glaring slightly at the older man across from him.

Before Otto could respond, Viserys intervened. 'That's enough, Otto. We have spoken of this; you are no longer my Hand, it is for Lyonel Strong to advise me now. You are at this dinner only as a courtesy to my wife.'

Viserys looked slightly disgusted, perhaps defeated as he scanned the faces of his dinner companions.

'I seem to have lost my appetite. I was a fool to think my family could pass one meal pleasantly to welcome Aerion to the Keep.' he shook his head in disappointment and rose from the table.

'Come to my chambers at dawn, my boy, and we shall break our fast together;

'As you command, uncle.' he smiled and bowed his head as the King left the room, remaining seated where the others rose.

Alicent swept from the room as well, not bothering to bid them goodnight as she left with her father on her heels.

Only Aerion and Rhaenyra remained seated at the long table, and he continued to enjoy his meal.

'And here I feared the meal would be dull, and we didn't get past the first course. Then again, I should have known, we are Targaryens after all.' he chuckled. 'I take it this is a frequent occurrence?'

Rhaenyra only nodded silently and moved towards the balcony that overlooked the Blackwater.

'She whispers poison in my father's ear, trying to replace me as heir in favour of her son.' she pursed her lips and leaned her elbows on the balcony wall.

Aerion abandoned his duck and went to join her. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared up at the dark, cloudy skies. He could only imagine what it would be like to look upon King's Landing from dragonback.

It was a sight few had ever witnessed, and no dragonlord's account could ever truly describe it. The very thought brought a wistful smile to his lips.

Growing up, he had often promised himself that he would one day be a dragonrider, no matter what he had to do.

'What are you thinking about, Princess?' Aerion straightened his back and turned to look at Rhaenyra, who was gazing out over the water in deep thought. He nudged her slightly with his elbow to gain her attention.

'The marriage I am soon to be trapped in.' she shook her head.

'I do love Laenor; we grew up together and if I had to marry anyone, I am glad it is him. But I do not love him as a wife should and he feels the same.'

'I am sure that those feelings will come in time, cousin, as it does with some marriages.' It saddened Aerion that she would be as stuck as his own mother was with Daemon. It was not a life he would wish for himself.

'Perhaps, though I doubt it.' Her frown abruptly transformed into a smile as she turned to look at him.

'Tell me, Aerion, why did you lie to my father?

'Not much gets past you, does it Princess? It is true. I lied to the king, but I had good reason to do so.'

Switching to their mother tongue took the Princess by surprise. 'It would be an insult for a Targaryen to be ignorant to the language of our ancestors, would it not?'

'I suppose it would be. I do not understand why you wish to be alone. What do you want to learn?' the princess also replied in Valyrian, her melodic voice rolling over the foreign syllables.

'I simply wish to know you, Princess. I fear that can only happen when we are alone.' Rhaenyra was silent after that, and gazed over the city once more. Aerion smiled softly as he watched the moonlight illuminate her hair.

' I will meet you in your chambers tomorrow, after the duels.' He bowed to his cousin and retreated quietly from the hall