76 Weights Heavier Than Mountains

Robert was smashing his way past several armed Ironborn at a time, treating them as no more than cattle to his bloodthirsty warhammer. Even Aerion stood back and watched him go at it for a moment.

While his Kingsguard were slaughtering everyone in front of them, Aerion found himself lacking an opponent.

"Spare all who bend and are unarmed." He called upon a soul dragon of great size and descended onto the roof of the main hold. Once he descended, several Ironborn ran up to the top to face him.

"It's… it's a dragon!"

Aerion dispersed the soul dragon and smiled. "I am, indeed."

"Stormcaller… why? We fought the Usurper for you-"

"For me?" Aerion chuckled, finding that statement quite amusing. "Where is all that gold you lowly pirates stole from my lands?"

"We…"

'Now burn.'

Vermithor roared, releasing three waves of scarlet flames which turned the Ironborn into ash. Then the dragon descended beside Aerion and lowered its heads a bit. The three-headed black dragon had grown quite large since it had been hatched, almost large enough to be ridden by Aerion. But in terms of combat, it was no doubt as deadly as an adult dragon… if not more. This was, of course, because of its unique characteristic; the three heads instead of one.

Aerion proudly pet all three heads. "That's my boy."

Because of his understanding of blood magic, Aerion was able to more or less communicate with his dragon like a person. Well… more like a person. It was still a dragon, in the end. Though with the ever-growing magic of the Known World, perhaps even dragons could one day speak.

"Don't burn down any buildings, alright?"

After that, Aerion descended the steps of the main tower. Several more Ironborn stood in his path but he cut through all of them with ease.

"He's just one man-- eugh."

Eventually, Aerion had made his way to the main hall where Balon sat with a worried expression. All of the remaining men guarding the Great Keep stood in the main hall, numbering half a hundred or so.

"A great fireblast is looking like the spell to use. Then again… this main hall wouldn't look pretty after that."

"Why…" Balon inquired. "We had the same enemy, Stormcaller…"

"And now we don't," Aerion replied simply. "Fighting for your independence, that I could understand. But you relished your little raids… didn't you? I did not recall you adding your banner to the royalists, either. You only fought for yourself and your reaving men."

The runes on Ambition glowed emerald, leading to all of the men who had slain by it to rise as greater undead. They slowly entered the room, evening out the odds a little into Aerion's favour… in terms of number. He alone was worth a hundred thousand men.

"You may kill me… but I beg of you, Your Grace, spare my daughter." Balon pleaded.

"Your daughter?" Aerion pondered. "She might have some use."

'Changing the way of the remaining Ironborn would be easier with someone respected supporting the act…'

"Might fancy me a rock wife," Aerion jested.

"I would never marry a treacherous bastard like you!"

"That's your daughter?" Aerion chuckled, observing Yasha for a moment. "She almost looks like a man."

She threw her axe at him but he deflected it with ease. "A little violent, I see. You like it rough, I'm guessing…"

Aerion added fuel to the fire yet she and the Ironborn in front of her were helpless, all things considered. He walked to the table and poured himself some wine. After a quick taste, he observed that it was of decent quality. Though, not to his standard.

Aerion waved his hand and every Ironborn guarding Balon fell to the ground, their bodies shredded with sharp cuts of wind. Only Yara Greyjoy remained out of the lot.

"See how simple 'war' is for me? It's not even a contest anymore… I dare say that it's a game. An easy one, at that."

"Men are no more than grass to my fire."

Aerion's piercing gaze looked into Balon's soul, causing him to instinctively retreat a few steps. The problem was… he didn't have much space to retreat to.

"I won't be killing you," Aerion stated confidently and in a reassuring tone.

"Is that... true?"

"Indeed, I won't lay a single finger on you."

Seeing Balon's expression of relief, Aerion smiled a little. He had given the fool a false sense of security.

Suddenly, the doors burst open as Robert charged in with his warhammer.

"You are promised to another, Balon." Aerion chuckled, enjoying his wine.

"BALONN GREYJOY!!"

"No…!"

He tried to run away from Robert in desperation but his efforts came to nothing. Robert chased him down and ruined what Balon once called his legs only with a single strike.

Smash.

Smash.

Smash.

By the time Robert was satisfied, Balon was no more than a pile of paste on the ground.

"That was a little much, wouldn't you say?" Aerion remarked, clearing some of the blood that had flown into his face.

"He earned it." Robert withdrew his warhammer from Balon's corpse.

"I honestly thought that you'd take a little longer getting here."

"The Ironborn were cowards with no spine. It was not long before they cleared a path for me."

"That being said, what will you do with the Ironborn who surrendered?" Jaime inquired.

"Kill those who reaved in the Second Rebellion, starting with the lords. From them, we will go down in order until even the most insignificant of reavers is slain. The rest can be spared."

~

The Knights of the Vale stormed through the lower regions of the Vale, making swift work of the strongest mountain clans which had already been weakened by one man. They scattered into smaller groups every time, hiding away until the fire settled. The most praised knight in this 'war' against the mountain clans was Ser Valar, whose skill in combat along with his courage was said to be unmatched. The smallfolk of the Vale sang songs of Ser Valar, the mysterious silver knight who had stood for them when no one else did. These songs spread to other Kingdoms, eventually giving him the name 'Knight of Valour'.

After he was certain that the mountain clans were all but extinguished, Ser Valar rested in a village he had grown fond of. It was the very first he had arrived to protect. Once he had done so, he put a few of the men through rigorous training so that they may be able to protect their own village when he left. In exchange, they treated him like a lord.

While in possession of Ser Valar, Aerion always felt free to be himself without any repercussions. It was sometimes the most amusing part of his day... though, he always prioritised his duty as the Dragon Emperor.

'Say, can this body reproduce?' Aerion wondered. 'It is certainly more alive than that of a Soul Knight's due to the addition of blood magic...'

"Why don't you find out?" The system replied.

'Find out? You make it sound so simple.'

"It is quite simple. Give a few ladies a good tumble and keenly watch the results over a few months."

'Or you could save me the trouble and give a straight answer.'

"Or I could not." The system replied.

'... You're very helpful, did anyone ever tell you that?'

"On a few occasions."

'Hmph.' Aerion chuckled. 'Have it your way.'

Ser Valar got up from his tree of shade into the morning light as he observed the village. With the mountain clans gone and the men able to defend themselves from any other outlaws, he didn't see a reason to remain. He went over to find Brod working the fields.

"This again?" Ser Valar frowned.

"I find farming relaxing, Ser," Brod replied, smiling cheerfully. "You should try it."

"Farming..." He chuckled, almost in a mocking tone. "It's not a speciality of mine, to say the least."

"You'd best not take too long with that because we're leaving later in the day."

"Leaving already?"

"You can stay if you truly wish." Ser Valar shrugged. "Though, it would take some adjusting... I can see you doing well enough in this village."

"I'll be done shortly, Ser!"

"Good."

~

His Grace's navy would reave all of the Iron Islands and put every reaving-supporting lord and man to the sword. In the end, only the more peaceful of the Ironborn had remained. The Iron Islands were then restored as part of the Seven Kingdoms, though its honour of being one of the 'Seven' was stripped away and given to the Riverlands. Now the remaining lords of the Iron Islands would serve under the Lord Paramount of the Trident as vassals. As a result, Pyke was given to Viserys but Lord Tywin would oversee it and the rest of the Iron Islands under the orders of His Grace.

The thralls and salt wives gained from all of the reaving attempts were mostly returned to their homes, giving Dragon Emperor Aerion a more favourable reputation among the Realm; smallfolk and highborn alike. Moreover, he had delegated his spare funds (which weren't anything to scoff at) into swiftly recovering the economy that was weakened by the Rebellion. It seemed that with a Targaryen King on the Iron Throne, all was well again. The Targaryen royalists finally had what they wanted while the rebels were now turning into royalists themselves. With Lord Stannis and the Stormlands, Lord Monford and the Vale, Viserys and the Riverlands (and Islands)... only Lord Eddard remained Lord Paramount from the original four who had rebelled against King Aerys II Targaryen. Of course, most lesser lords were still bitter with the loss of their Lord Paramounts and (in two of the cases) ancestral Houses but their replacements were brilliant enough to sway a majority of them in time.

This was especially true with Prince Viserys Targaryen, who displayed a charm and ability that Lord Edmure and his father had simply lacked. Despite not having much experience ruling beforehand, Viserys had picked it up rather easily. If this were the old him, it would've been disastrous. However, he had grown to be patient and thoughtful of every act. That was precisely where his blessing had come into play.

To celebrate the unification of the Realm, his seventeenth nameday and coronation as King and Emperor, Dragon Emperor Aerion would host the grandest feast King's Landing had seen in many decades… if not the grandest since its construction. Every Lord Paramount, Lord Magister and every other lord of importance was obligated to attend with Aerion making the suitable preparations if distance and time were the obstacles.

However, before he would return to King's Landing himself, Aerion did pay a visit to the Riverlands with his Kingsguard and a few Soul Knights. Immediately, they were welcomed with a feast. There was certainly some tension between those loyal to House Tully and Aerion but they did not dare to say anything to his face.

"So, how are the Riverlands?"

"Moving in the right direction. I've swayed a good number of the highborn in my favour, though I must say that these lords love their quarrels."

"River lords have always been like that." Aerion took a good look around the hall. "That is one of the reasons why I made you Lord Paramount of the Trident."

"To prove myself?"

"Why, of course." Aerion smiled at Viserys. "And you seem to be doing well."

After conversing with Viserys and finishing his food, Aerion stood up from his seat and started exploring a little in the hall. By that time, Cersei Lannister had finally joined the occasion.

"I believe that's her." Aerion looked at Jaime before lightly pushing him forward. "Go, Lion of Lannister."

He didn't need to tell him twice, nor once in that matter. It's almost as if he had been a magnet to his sister. No words were said as they embraced each other. It had been many years... far too many. Jaime himself knew that he still deeply cared for her... but was it still the same?

Once they separated and had a little talk, Cersei turned to Aerion which surprised him a little. There was a moment of tension as Cersei's emerald eyes met Aerion's. He resembled much of his late father, with a few clear differences. His silver hair was shorter and more unrestrained, paired with ethereal violet eyes that stole all of the light from the world. The scar along his left eye was a representation of his battle experience and brought out more of a fierce manly aura. The colour of his skin was olive and occasionally glowed gold under certain lighting.

Aerion had a taste of his wine. "Need anything?"

...

After a few drinks, Aerion found himself in a series of conversations with the twin lannisters. From Aerion's life and his conquests to Jaime's service to Cersei's boredom and 'suffering' with Edmure Tully. It seemed as if Cersei had set her eyes on him which led to the air in the room being more... awkward.

Eventually, Jaime had become more excluded, so to speak.

"The stupid fool could not keep his mouth shut so I punished him for it," Aerion stated.

"It's good that you did. I had long since grown tired of his presence." Cersei smiled as she played with her golden hair. "I find Targaryen rule to be far more pleasant."

"Comparing a dragon to a fish..." Aerion chuckled. "That's a good jest."

'A few more drinks and I might have some regrets...'

Aerion would be lying if he said he didn't think that Cersei was beautiful... and, more precisely, desirable. But Cersei... she was Jaime's lover. This made him resist taking any advances and remaining passive. After leaving with an excuse, Aerion wandered outside of Riverrun.

'I underestimated my own beauty, it seems.... though, Jaime didn't seem quite as passionate as a lover would be either.'

He decided to go on a little hunt with just Instinct in hand to clear his mind. Not even the Kingsguard were permitted to join him on this hunt. After roughly an hour, he laid down against a tree and began to think about some matters. This eventually led him to do something... something that he had intended on doing for quite some time but never managed to gather the will.

He decided to remove the weights from his heart and summon forth the man who was his father, Rhaegar Targaryen.