Chapter 4: Dreams

Chapter Text

Aerion opened his eyes with a start and took a stumbling step forward, collapsing onto his hands and knees. The blurry silhouette of the Iron Throne stood at the top of the steps before him, and looking down he saw his hands were dripping with blood onto the burnt grass under his feet.

He turned in confusion; he was not in the Red Keep. He was in the middle of a scorched field, littered with the bodies of soldiers and peasants alike. The landscape was unfamiliar to him yet the hills around him were reminiscent of Vale stone. The echoes of screaming men and women, the clashing of swords whispered around him but he could see no battle, no living people.

He turned back to the throne and jumped back onto his hands as a male figure appeared from behind the throne and took a seat. The man was almost faceless, almost shapeless; he could not make out his features. 

Suddenly from behind him came the shouting of men and he whipped his head around and watched as the scene changed. The field of blood had disappeared and the throne room had formed around him; grass turned to stone and the wide open plain grew high walls. Bodies rose and turned on one another, forming two clear factions. Swords were drawn, teeth were bared in aggression, but still he could not see their faces clearly.

A noise from the end of the hall caught his attention; a deep, booming sound that rattled his bones and his breath caught as he looked into the eyes of a great bronze dragon. It shouldered its way into the hall, crumbling stone like it was sand, climbing over the people as though they were nothing but ants in the way of a behemoth. Its eyes were fixed on Aerion and a growl began to rumble deep in its chest, so low that he could barely hear it. The dragon's lips pulled back from his colossal teeth in a snarl and Aerion couldn't move, couldn't turn to flee as its mouth opened and he saw flame travelling up that long throat. Something fixed him in place as the dragon's flame engulfed him and he finally was able to scream.

And he shot up in bed, that same scream now filling his chambers and he gasped for breath. His mouth was bone dry, his stomach ached with hunger but he flung himself out of bed, pushing his back to the wall. His hands no longer dripped with blood. It had been a dream.

Aerion began to slow his breathing as the doors flew open; Rodrik charged in with two maesters on his heels and he spotted two household guards behind them, with hands on their swords. 

He fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes. He felt Rodrik approached and croaked, 'Water…'

A sharp pain from his cheek; it was puffy and painful to the touch. 

A smooth glass was held to his lips and he took a long sip, relishing the feeling of the cool water trickling down his dry throat.

'Gods, Aerion, you had us worried.' Rodrik muttered, setting the glass down.

"What happened?" he asked.

'You fell unconscious after your bout against Mallister; truly he did you some damage.' 

Aerion grunted at the reminder and attempted to push himself to a sitting position. Strong arms slid underneath his torso and hauled him up.

He nodded and then turned to the maesters. 'What is the damage?'

'As you can see from the bandaging, my prince, you took a blow to your arm. There will be no permanent damage but it will be an ugly scar, I'm afraid.'

'I would like to administer a small dose of milk of the poppy."

"That will not be necessary." Aerion replied swiftly.

"Aerion…" Rodrik responded.

"I said no…" he insisted, receiving a look of confusion from both the maesters, and Rodrik "I refuse to be weakened by milk of the poppy, I need my strength for my next match."

Rodrik shook his head, placing his hand on Aerion's shoulder "My prince, the tournament has finished; we must leave for the Vale as soon as you can travel." Aerion noticed the sorrowed look on Rodrik's face.

Aerion was going to reply before the second maester interrupted "My prince, I must insist on taking milk of the poppy, we fear you will be in incredible pain without it." he continued "Grand Maester Mellos has agreed that this is the best course of action."

"Did you hear me the first time? I said no.." he responded "Now leave before I rip your lungs out." he waved his hand dismissively to them; and as the doors closed, he grabbed for Rodrik's arm, shaking "What has happened?"

Rodrik turned his head from him for a moment, running his hands down his face looking back, tears filled his eyes "We received word from Runestone, your mother.." he took a pause "is dead.." 

Aerion scoffed in disbelief, he shook his head as the entirety of his body trembled "Wha…no, you are lying." 

"I wish I was, Aerion…truly." 

"How did she die?" he asked, while he never got on with his mother, it came as a shock that she was dead, he didn't want to believe it, and he turned his head away from Rodrik, allowing himself to grief as he continued to shake his head, tears ran down his face.

"The letter said it was a riding mishap, during one of her regular hunts, it is said that both her neck and skull were crushed in the fall." Rodrik explained.

"That's impossible - my mother was the finest rider there was in the Vale." he turned back to Rodrik. "This was not an accident - it couldn't have been."

Before they could talk further, they were interrupted with the entrance of the King, who entered with what was large enough to be an entourage, three of his kingsguard stood beside him, along with his wife, Queen Alicent, and the Princess Rhaenyra.

"My boy, I am so pleased to hear you have recovered; we have been praying to the seven for your recovery for days." the king said, "I was very saddened to hear of your mother's death; know you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Days?" Aerion's eyes widened in further disbelief "How long have I been out?" he turned back to Rodrik as he attempted to rise from the bed, though failed  "When did you receive the letter that my mother had passed?"

"Four days, my prince, we received the letter on the night of your bout." Rodrik answered.

Aerion's eyes wandered around the room once again, the queen had a fake smile on her face, Viserys looked filled with sorrow as if he was grieving Aerion's mother more than he was, and as he looked to Rhaenyra, a faint smile formed on his lips.

She returned with a smile of her own, he could see the glare from the queen in the corner of his eye "Husband, perhaps we shall leave Prince Aerion to grieve, I am sure he will want to be alone in this dark hour." Alicent spoke, running her hand up the kings' arm.

"Ofcourse." the king responded, placing his hand over hers "Come, let us leave." Viserys turned his back to Aerion, moving to leave as the Kingsguard opened the door.

"Wait!" Aerion urged, grunting in pain as his face hurt from the loud call to the King "Could the princess stay?" He asked, "It would do me good to have some company, after everything I have learned, I do not want to be alone."

"That would not be appropriate." Alicent responded "Surely you will want to plan your travels back to -"

"Nonsense." Viserys interrupted her, ripping his hand from hers and looking to Rhaenyra "If you want to stay, then you can." he turned to look to Alicent, with a saddened smile.

He could hear the King and Queen bicker as they traveled down the hallway, and he shared a smirk with Rhaenyra, who moved to his side of the bed next to Rodrik, taking hold of his hand.

Aerion turned his focus back to Rodrik, gesturing for him to leave, and he seemed to have got the message loud and clear "My prince, I shall leave you, I will begin the preparations back to Runestone." 

Aerion looked at Rhaenyra, tightened the grip on her hand "I'm sorry." he said, a small frown upon his lips.

"What for?" she replied "I should be saying sorry to you; I know what it is like to lose a mother."

"I failed you." he said "I did not win the tournament in your name, I crumbled…I did not deserve to wear your favor." Aerion answered, feeling more guilt over not winning a tournament than anything else.

"That is not important, Aerion, the only thing that matters is how you are currently feeling." she intertwined their fingers, her hands were so soft, and Aerion peered down to them.

A smile formed from his lips for a short while, though further thoughts of his mother soon turned it back to frown "my mother…I never got to say goodbye."

Rhaenyra didn't answer; he could see she was trying to find the words, and he slowly moved his legs and planted his feet on the ground, pain soured from his body as he attempted to stand.

His entire body ached with each sudden movement; but he fought through that pain, gritting his teeth and gripping Rhaenyra's hand even tighter "Thank you." he said, letting go of her hand, and walking towards the closet, gripping the wooden frame of the canopy bed to help keep his balance.

He prepared himself, grabbing a white tunic and throwing it over his head, and slipped a pair of black leather boots on "Perhaps you should remain abed until you have regained your strength" Rhaenyra worried.

"By the sounds of it; I have been stuck to that bed long enough." he said, taking a deep breath before slowly taking steps without support towards Rhaenyra "Would you like to go on a walk, Princess?"

"I would love to." she replied "the fresh air will do you well, I suggest we take a walk in the gardens, they are so lovely this time of year."

There was a long stretch of silence between them as they traveled through the halls of the Red Keep; it was buzzing with life as servants prepared for the wedding between Rhaenyra and Laenor.

They reached a quiet, enclosed garden with a great large tree standing upon a small hill; its smooth bark was bone-white, while its leaves and sap were the color of blood, with a face carved into its trunk. it was the center of attention, with other small plants surrounding it, to their left was a ledge overlooking the blackwater bay.

"Are you still doubting your marriage to Ser Laenor?" Aerion asked, breaking the long silence that had been between them since leaving his room, clasping his hands behind him as they walked slowly towards the ledge; it had become somewhat easier to walk now he had been on his feet.

"My worries will always be constant, I'm afraid," she answered, her head turning to look behind them; Aerion assumed this was to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation; she lowered her tone. 

"Laenor would probably prefer your company than my own." Aerion raised an eyebrow at her comment, taking a moment to think, then soon understood, he remembered frequently overhearing rumors between the guards at Runestone about The Sea Snake's son and his appetites.

"He will have no choice but to, Princess; you are to be married." Aerion chuckled, though when he glanced at Rhaenyra, she was less than pleased. 

"Things will get better over time, Princess; you grew up with Laenor." he placed his hand on the white-stoned railing as they reached the overlook. 

"You will have better circumstances than my mother and father did; they hated each other." he looked down to the ground, shaking his head. "Perhaps that is why she hated me; a constant reminder of Daemon."

"You believe your mother hated you?" she asked curiously.

Aerion shrugged his shoulders. "She was not the most affectionate; I could tell by the way she looked at me that all she saw was Daemon." he fiddled with his fingers. "And now I am to take up the lordship of Runestone."

"Perhaps it will suit you," she replied, caressing his arm gently.

"I do not want it." he admitted. "I want to have a life of my own choosing; the Vale is not my home; it never will be." it was true; he always felt like an outsider, attempting to find his place, and it was not until he arrived in Kings Landing that he truly felt among his own people.

His eyes never left hers; nor did her eyes ever leave him; they stood for what felt like an eternity; Aerion could no longer control himself as he took in a whiff of roses that radiated off her.

Aerion stepped closer to her, ridding the space between them both and guiding his hand up from her arm to her neck; he leaned his head forward, so close their lips were almost touching, he could feel her warm breath against his lips.

"Aerion...we shouldn't." Rhaenyra faintly whispered, setting her hand on his wrist and pulling it away from her neck slowly and gently. "No good will come from it." he grunted, running his other hand through the curls of her hair; despite her pleas, he felt no other resistance from her.

"I know you want this, Rhaenyra.." he whispered "I've seen how you look at me, that constant smile on your lips, you've captured my affections, who cares if no good will come from it.."

She soon removed her hand from his wrist and placed it on his chest; he then slid his hand underneath her chin, raising her head up to look at him, running his thumb across her lips; in that moment, he felt electrified, a feeling coursing through his whole body, his eyes closed as their lips touched, her's were soft and sweet, the taste of oranges from her morning breakfast still lingering.

Their lips then parted, and Aerion rested his forehead upon hers as he looked down at her lips once more; his heart was pounding, heavily breathing. He pulled his head back and a small smirk formed as they shared a look; he was taken by surprise as she leaned forward towards him and reconnected their lips.

Aerion was close to not being able to breathe; he hadn't imagined this would be possible; as their lips parted for a second time, they stared at each other for what seemed like hours but was only a few short seconds; he cupped his hand over her cheek, running his thumb over her lips, then stepping away slowly, fully taking in what he had done.

Rhaenyra was left with a single tear running down from her eye and a quivered lip, refusing to make eye contact with him.

At that moment, things had become considerably awkward, words would not leave his lips, and they stood there silently; Aerion shook his head, turned his heel and walked away with his head planted down to the floor, leaving Rhaenyra alone.