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HOTD: Aerion Targaryen

- I do not own the story or any characters, except for the main character. - This story is primarily developed during my weekend holidays. - I am writing this to enhance my writing skills, aiming to improve my overall storytelling. Feel free to provide comments if you notice any mistakes or issues. -I haven't read the books, and have only a vague understanding of the book adaption and Canon version of Game of thrones, House of dragon and the whole history of the world.

MrGood23 · TV
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38 Chs

Chapter 27

Stopping his father mid-sentence, Aerion continued, "Don't, father and I don't need anyone's sympathy and more importantly that isn't what we are discussing here."

"But Aemma Targaryen your wife my Mother has showered me in love, maybe more than anyone else and I still remember her asking forgiveness for your actions every night before she left the chamber.

and I have already come to terms with it. So, don't feel sorry for me and I don't need your act of guilt. please consider my previous words seriously." His tone was serious, his gaze unwavering.

Viserys glanced at his calm and composed son as he replied, "I will think about it."

"Good, now to the third point. I want you to appoint me as the commander of the city watch," Aerion stated, revealing his third demand.

"What!" Viserys was slightly startled as he asked, "Aerion, you're not even 16 nor are you knighted, and even if I appoint you as the commander of the city watch, the men of the watch won't be willing to listen to a child. Not to mention the council will not allow this." Viserys reasoned, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"Convincing the men of the watch is left to me, convincing the council is your duty. And I'm not asking the council's permission, I'm asking my father's, the king of Westeros, to appoint me as the commander of the city watch," Aerion retorted, his tone serious.

"I need to think about it and also need some time," Viserys explained, looking at his son.

"You can take your time, father but I want the decision to be your. But remember this, I promised Rhaenyra, as long as she doesn't let me and my trust down, I will make her the next queen of Westeros. And I will try my best to be peaceful in my efforts," he said slowly as he stood up and walked to his father's side.

"But... if they mistake my peaceful approach as fear and cowardice, I will start a bloody genocide that starts with the Hightowers and ends with the creation of a new order of things, an order for my sister," Aerion declared, his aura rising unconsciously.

Looking at his son for the first time, Viserys felt fear. He knew his son wasn't joking, and that oppressive aura from Aerion made him look at his son in a different light.

"Now, let's get to the real reason for my visit to your chamber, shall we?" Aerion said, making Viserys break away from his dazed state and confusing him.

"Is there anything else?" Viserys asked, trying to regain his composure.

Aerion's voice echoed in the dimly lit room, "Yes, I want to see it, the wounds and I would also like all the recorded details that the Maester had collected regarding the disease." His tone was firm, his gaze unwavering.

Viserys, his father, was taken aback by his son's request. He hesitated, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and concern. After a moment of silence, he finally nodded, "Very well," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Slowly, he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a bandaged torso underneath. The sight of his father's frail body made Aerion's heart clench, but he pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.

With a determined look, Aerion approached his father. His eyes scanned the bandages, his mind calculating. He carefully began to unwrap them, revealing a series of deep gashes with almost rotten flesh. The sight was gruesome, but Aerion's hands were steady as he examined each wound, his expression serious.

"These wounds... they're not healing properly," Aerion said, his voice filled with concern. "You need better care, father."

Viserys looked at his son, a weak smile on his face. "It's the gods' punishment, son. The Maesters have tried everything."

Aerion shook his head, his gaze never leaving his father's wounds. "We are the last of the Valyrian Dragon lords father, We bow to no God and no Gods aren't worthy to punish us, and you haven't tried everything. You need to be strong, for the realm, for our family."

Viserys was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting Aerion's. "You're right, Aerion."

Aerion nodded, satisfied with his father's response. Just then, the door was knocked. "Come in," Aerion spoke up, and two young Maesters entered with some equipment, vessels, and glass jars.

He took the equipment and started to observe them carefully. "It seems your crafts are still excellent," he praised as he ordered, "All of you can leave."

"Father, I'm going to inspect the wounds, so please bear with it." Aerion said as he started to observe. He wasn't just looking at the area affected by the infection but also sensing if there was any residual magical fluctuation to see if it was a curse or anything like that.

But thankfully, after some time, he felt no magic, making him relax and completely crossing the notion of a curse. With that, he started to collect the pus and rotten flesh into the glass jar for further experimentation.

Just as he collected the last of the sample, the door was pushed open, and Alicent, alongside Otto Hightower, walked in. "Aerion, what are you doing?" Alicent asked, looking at the various glass jars with creamy white pus and rotten flesh.

"Checking my father's health," Aerion said casually.

"It's okay, Alicent. I allowed him to do so," Viserys cleared for Aerion.

Alicent still had a worried expression, but Otto stepped forward. "Sire, it's not wise for the Prince to do this. Even the Grand Maester and others are unable to determine the cause or a cure for the infection, and the prince is young and lacks knowledge. It may cause the disease to aggravate."

"Lord Hightower, how would you know I'm inexperienced in medicine? For your information, age is not equal to wisdom and knowledge. And I sincerely appreciate your care for my father's health, but I would like to ask you to leave," Aerion said seriously.

Otto didn't leave as he looked at Alicent, and before Alicent could say anything, Aerion spoke up. "I'm talking to lord Otto as the first prince of house Targaryen, sister Alicent," he said, looking straight into her eyes.

After that, he turned to Otto. "Lord Hightower, I wasn't requesting you. I'm demanding you, as the Prince of Westeros and the eldest son of House Targaryen, to leave."

Hearing his words, everyone was stunned, especially Alicent and Otto. Before they could react, Viserys spoke, "Otto, please take your leave. This is a family matter."

"As ordered, sire," Otto said as he bowed and turned to exit the chamber with an extremely gloomy expression.

Alicent wanted to follow, but Aerion stopped her. "Alicent, my father said family, so you can stay. And I want you to stay."