Chapter 3: Chapter 3: House of the Dragon
YEAR 110 AC
-King's Landing-
Red Keep - Royal gardens…
Aeonar, now fifteen years old, stood beneath the weirwood tree in the godswood waiting and slightly fidgeting. By the Gods, he was nervous! For years he has been friends with Alicent since they were children, but as they matured into adolescents, he could help but notice something different in the way he feels about her - Alicent had already developed as a beautiful, comely young woman. After yesterday's small council meeting, Aeonar finally mustered enough courage to ask Alicent to meet him in the godswood during the evening as it was important. He felt as if his throat was drying and tried to calm his nerves. He rehearsed his lines several times for practice, but now that it was happening, Aeonar was hoping that he would not make a fool out of himself or worse - jeopardize his friendship with Alicent.
"Ahem! So, Alicent… I apologize for causing any inconvenience and I thank you for coming on such short notice. As you can no doubt speculate, I - No! Seven hells, that is stupid! Ah, Alicent. Good morning. That's a very lovely dress you have there- No, no, no, that sounds even worse! She is going to know for sure something is up! What if she says yes, but… but what if she says no? Ugh, she's going to hate me."
"Hate you for what?"
Aeonar's ears perked up at the sound of a soft, feminine voice coming from behind him. As he turned around, Aeonar could not help but notice Alicent wearing a stunning sleeveless navy-blue dress with golden embroidery stitched into her neckline and along her waistline.
"Oh! Oh, ah, Alicent. I didn't… hear you."
"I'm sorry for being late. Father was a bit preoccupied with Gwayne, and… among other things. I meant to congratulate you on your appointment to the council, Aeonar, but…"
"It's not a big deal, Alicent. You know I always have time for you."
"Thanks. You're too kind."
Barely seven months ago, word had already spread throughout the capital when Aeonar made history by becoming the small council's youngest member upon being named the new Master of Whisperers and Lord Confessor by King Viserys. As the Seven Kingdom's official spymaster, he amassed a large coterie of his agents to expand his network and provide an alternative when force or diplomacy fails, dispatching spies throughout the realm and as far east as Essos to collect information or engage in espionage and assassinations. Now that he had a seat and a say in the art of governance, Aeonar was more than determined to prove his worth. That being said, though, more senior advisors had not seemed to take the Prince of Dragonstone seriously on account of his age. And even if his reports were believed, it would be the Hand of the King - Ser Otto Hightower - who took the credit, much to Aeonar's irritation.
"Anyway," Alicent continued, "you mentioned you had something to discuss. Said it was important. Is something wrong?"
Aeonar inhaled through his nostrils. Okay, Aeonar. You went through all the trouble to ask her out here, now is your only chance to lay it out. But be mindful. Respect her wishes, do not force anything, and accept her choices - even if they are not the ones for which you are hoping. "What? I… No, nothing is wrong," he shook his head visibly flustered. Damn it, Aeonar! You are ruining it! "It's just…"
"Aeonar? Are you feeling well? Your face is turning bright red."
Not good! "I am… fine. There is no straightforward way to say this." Settle down, try again. "I was just hoping to spend some time alone with you." Aeonar sat down beneath the weirwood tree.
Alicent sat down next to him. "You don't need to ask, Aeonar. I enjoy spending time with you too. You, Rhaenyra… This place is the only solace I could think of for the three of us to just escape from the reality of the world even if it is just for a while. I like it here. Serene, tranquil… I enjoy the days when we could just sit around, talk for hours… well, I talk, and you listen mostly."
"It's also the best spot in the Red Keep to keep unwanted eyes from eavesdropping. Quiet." He inhaled again. "But more importantly? It is the only place I can think of where we can just be ourselves - not simply a prince or noble. Just us." Aeonar could not help but slowly move his palm onto Alicent's. To his surprise, he felt her intertwining her fingers with his. "Do you remember the time we met?"
"Of course, though it was under different circumstances. During the Great Council at Harrenhal. I honestly did not know you were part of the royal family initially. Even though you are a prince who can practically have anything he wants, you still chose to spend time with me. You and Rhaenyra were the only friends I have ever had. You two accepted me and were always there for me when I was at my lowest… though Rhaenyra wouldn't stop herself from dragging us into trouble sometimes."
"And somehow I'm the one who ended up getting the blame," Aeonar grumbled under his breath. "But do you know the one good thing that came out of it?"
"What?"
"You."
Alicent blushed. "M-Me?" she turned in surprise.
"When I was named Prince of Dragonstone, and again later as Master of Whisperers, at first I thought I desired these things to prove myself. To my father, the small council, our family… but I realized then that it was all self-centered. Selfish. What good is ambition if there is not something to act as a motivation?" Aeonar looked at Alicent, still holding her hand. "I realized that it's because of you that I'm able to keep going no matter what obstacles lay in front of us."
"Aeonar…"
"Your companionship has meant a lot to me over the years, but… Gods, this is much harder than I thought. I am comfortable around you, Alicent. You don't see me as a prince or a Targaryen - but just me." Aeonar shook his head, struggling to find the words. "There is no easy way for me to say this. Maybe it's because I fear what might happen afterward."
"A-Aeonar," Alicent said nervously, "w-what are you trying to tell me?"
"What I'm… trying to say, Alicent, is that I… I like you. I care about you. More than I should. More than simply just as a friend. But like how a man sees a woman." Do not stop now. You have already started, now finish it. "When I'm with you, my guts feel like they're tied up in knots, I get excited and confused all at once… And I know the fact that this could affect the outcome once all is said and done. Right now, I am just a man with his heart laid bare. But I need to know. Do you… do you feel the same way?" That is it. Remember: respect her opinion and honor her choice, even if it might cause you pain.
Alicent's eyes widened and felt her heartbeat racing. Briefly pulling away from Aeonar, she simply stared at him with her mouth agape, her face flushing red. She realized that this was not just a mere random meet-up in the middle of the castle gardens; this was a love confession! From her best friend, of all people! What would the court say? What would her family say? What if the king or queen were to find out? All these years, Alicent was now discovering that Prince Aeonar Targaryen had developed feelings for her. For years, she merely believed it was a momentary infatuation that would eventually pass in time. But this…?
"Y… You like…? M-Me? Uh, ummm…"
Aeonar shut his eyes, mentally cursing himself for potentially ruining their childhood friendship and readying himself for the outcome of being rejected for his confession. For a while, silence filled the gardens aside from the birds chirping. But something surprised him. He felt a hand placed on his. Aeonar looked back at Alicent to see her still blushing.
"I've often wondered why you were so kind to me," Alicent answered. A small smile started to form on her face. "I-I feel the same way… so… Th-this is all new to me. But I… I suppose we can give it a try."
Now it was Aeonar's turn to feel surprised. He honestly expected a different response! "Wow! Wow, I, uh… was honestly expecting something else, but this… Seven hells, I swear if this is a dream right now, don't you even dare wake me up."
"Hahaha. Shall I pinch you for you to be certain?"
"No, I'll take you at your word for it." Aeonar took both Alicent's hands in his. The atmosphere around them was warm and emotional. Having confessed and reciprocated, a Hightower and Targaryen progressed their relationship from friendship to a couple. This moment right now was perfect.
But…
"About time you two got it out in the open!"
Both Aeonar and Alicent heard a familiar sound coming from beside the bushes and quickly pulled away. As they turned, in strolled a smug, confident thirteen-year-old Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen with a satisfied grin on her face. Like her brother, she had her family's Valyrian features, braided long silver-gold hair, and purple eyes. She wore an opulent red dress accented with a dragon-head belt. In addition, Rhaenyra was also a dragonrider herself - claiming the dragon Syrax as her own. Many would say that she was born with everything… except she was not born male. Only Aeonar had that privilege.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to confess to her, dear brother?" Rhaenyra teased cheekily. "What's next? Ooh, do not tell me! Do you plan to sweep her off her feet? Ask for her hand in marriage? Oh, I know! You plan to take her riding with Vaelor. Sightseeing from above the clouds? I am sure she would love the sights. There's nothing that can compete with dragonriding."
"Rhaenyra!" Alicent exclaimed with embarrassment. "Were… were you spying on us the whole time?"
"Please, I've seen the way you two ogle each other in the hallways from time to time. It's sickeningly romantic sometimes I almost want to laugh."
Aeonar flushed with irritation. He had it all planned out, a romantic moment, and his sister had to ruin it moment for him. "Rhaeynra, ao gīmigon ao sagon daor rual naejot sagon ozmijes aōha vestriarzir gūrēnilaksir. Arlī. Ȳdra daor ao rūnagon skoros massitas mōrī jēda? (Rhaenyra, you know you are not supposed to be skipping your history lessons. Again. Don't you remember what happened last time?)"
Rhaenyra nonchalantly brushed aside her brother's words. "Sīr kepa se muña qilōnario nyke, skoros hen ziry? Ziry iksos daor hae pōnta'll gaomagon mirros bē. Ao gīmigon skorkydoso issi. (So, father and mother scolded me, what of it? It is not like they will do anything regardless. You know how they are.)"
"Tsk! Of course, you would laugh about it."
"Don't tell me that you don't love it, Aeonar. I can see it now! 'Rhaenyra, why can't you take your duties seriously?', 'You're too adventurous." Rhaenyra tried imitating their father. Even then, both Aeonar and Alicent believed it a little funny. "Besides, I'm happy for you two. Both of you. I am. And if it makes you feel any better, your best-kept secret is safe with me."
Alicent felt relieved.
"… But…"
"NO!" Aeonar pointed at her. "Don't. You. Even. Go there, Rhaenyra."
"Teehehehe!" Rhaenyra grinned wickedly. She was up to something mischievous. Reaching into her pack on the ground, she pulled out a damp wineskin and strolled over to the nearest window. "How much do you want to bet I can hit Ser Oafsberry down there? Or Ser Lazybones?"
"Rhaenyra! Please do not do this! Not again!" Alicent pleaded with her knowing she was up to no good with another one of her pranks.
"Tell me this, Rhaenyra, tell me this," Aeonar threw up his arms, "why is it that every time you start something, I'm the one who ends up in trouble?"
Without hesitation, Rhaenyra dumped the wine over the edge of the railing. Despite Alicent and Aeonar trying to stop her, she was faster. A few seconds later, an audible trickling was heard accompanied by yells and shouts.
"Ah! What the-?!"
"For fuck's sake! Who did that?!"
"My new uniform!"
"Where is he?! Who is the dead man who poured this piss on me?!"
Aeonar and Alicent quickly withdrew before the guards below could look up. By the time they returned, they saw Rhaenyra giggling her ass off.
"Ooh! The look on their faces!"
"Rhaenyra!" Alicent protested. "How could you do such a thing?"
"Come on," Rhaenyra wiped a tear from her eye she was laughing so hard. "You have to admit it was a little funny. Besides, they have not bathed in a few days and spent their off-duty hours getting drunk last I heard. Why not give 'em something to drink while they're at it."
Aeonar opened his mouth but quickly shut it. Okay, he had to admit it was a little funny - but this was still not acceptable for a member of the royal family to behave. Before he could even respond, he heard clanking footsteps approaching. Someone in armor. But it was something they were all familiar with.
"Ah, there you are, Princess," an aged man noticed. "Prince Aeonar. My lady."
"Good afternoon, Ser Harrold," Alicent greeted.
One of the longest-serving members of the Kingsguard, Ser Harrold Westerling, like Lord Commander Ser Ryam Redwyne, served since the final days of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen. A paragon of chivalry and honor wearing the Kingsguard's signature all-white cloak and fine silver armor, Harrold was once a powerful knight with a successful military background and responsible for training Prince Aeonar in the art of combat.
"Ser Harrold," Aeonar greeted.
Harrold turned to Rhaenyra. "Haahh… please don't tell me you intentionally skipped your studies again. The king and queen are already fed up enough as it is."
"Why, Ser Harrold, I don't know what you mean," Rhaenyra feigned ignorance.
Oh, you are going to get it now, little sister. Time to mete out your punishment. Aeonar saw his chance and gently gripped Rhaenyra by the arm. "Must you ask? I am certain you already know the answer by now. Yes, ser, my sister did it again… and more." He pointed over the railing. Harrold leaned over, saw what had happened, and groaned.
"Nāpāstre! (Backstabber!)"
"Iotāptegon bisa hae gūrogon sizi syt pryjātās bisa tovi nyke kȳvaōks sīr qopsa syt, se syt issare kuna iā ōdres isse ñuha gundja, mandia. (Consider this as getting even for ruining this moment I planned so hard for, and for being such a pain in my ass, sister.)"
Rhaenyra pouted at being hit with karma and stared up at Aeonar. But he was still her brother, and she had her fair share of fun for the day. Leaning on her tippy toes, Rhaenyra kissed Aeonar's cheek. "Raqnon a, lēkia issa. (Love you, brother.)" Following Ser Harrold, she acted as if nothing had ever happened and left the new couple alone.
"Ugh! Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra… what am I ever going to do with you?" Aeonar groaned.
"I didn't even hear her sneaking up on us," Alicent's face was red.
"Such an incorrigible prankster. No matter how many times you tell her no, Rhaenyra will always find a way to step it up a notch." Aeonar turned to Alicent. "Well, at least your brothers keep your interests at heart… do they?"
"Gwayne has his moments, but yes. They are not as mean to me. Sometimes I feel bad about it."
"No, don't be. I am not. Rhaenyra can be a pest sometimes, but she is still my sister and I love her to death. You Hightowers would certainly do the same."
"That we do. But it only takes quite an effort to push us close to that point. 'We Light the Way.'"
"The colors of Oldtown when calling its banners to war. Green. Much more pleasant to look at than my house, a red three-headed dragon on a black field. 'Fire and Blood.'"
"Symbolizing House Targaryen's connection to the dragons and conquest," Alicent remarked.
Aeonar chuckled. "You remembered."
"We studied together. Do you not recall?"
"Of course, I do Alicent. Among mathematics, history, and a great deal of etiquette, lineage is a serious affair - even in the days of Old Valyria if we are to keep our bloodlines pure. When you are first in line to inherit the Iron Throne, you are given lessons and your knowledge is to be tested either by the Grand Maester or… by strict nannies. I'd prefer Grand Maester Mellos to tutor me than any of those elderly women."
"Surely the others aren't as bad as you think?"
"I only wish. Septa Anabelle, for instance, who despite nearing her ninetieth year still had quite the arm. I can still remember the switch on my knuckles if I got an answer wrong. However, as much work as being Prince of Dragonstone and Master of Whisperers is, I will not shirk it… taxing as it may be sometimes."
Alicent placed a hand on Aeonar's shoulder. "I know, and I understand. But know that I am always there for you if you need me. All you have to do is just ask me."
"I will, Alicent. And thank you." Aeonar glanced to notice the sun lowering. Midday. In a few hours, dusk would settle in. "Ah. Look at that."
"Midday already? Goodness, I lost track of time."
"Guess we both needed a distraction once in a while."
"I should go see father. He is probably wondering where I am."
"And I should get to the Dragonpit. Vaelor will be needing his exercise right now."
"Aeonar?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for spending time with me," Alicent smiled. "And for… you know…"
Aeonar blushed. "I should be thanking you, Alicent. For everything." He turned to leave but stopped and turned around. "Oh. Almost forgot something."
"What do you mean? Forget wha- Mmm?!" She did not get a chance to say anymore when Aeonar placed his hands on her face and pressed his lips down onto hers. Alicent let out a surprised gasp. For half a heartbeat, she felt her mind go blank and her legs become weak. It was her first kiss. So many thoughts raced through Alicent's head before yielding to the kiss. "Mmm~" she hummed. It was a long kiss, though how long Alicent could not have said. When it ended, Aeonar let go of her.
"Hen se tegon naejot se qēlossās, ao se nyke, ñuha prūmia. (From the earth to the stars, you and I, my heart.)" Aeonar told Alicent in High Valyrian.
Before long, it was time to go. For a while, Alicent watched as Aeonar left. Cheeks blushing red, momentarily dazed, she felt like she was on cloud nine. Not once in a million years would a young girl like herself ever imagine a day would come when a childhood friend of hers would convey his feelings and return them as well. As adventurous as their days were, that kiss was something Alicent would always remember for the rest of her life.
She could not help but smile on the way back to the Tower of the Hand.
Dragonpit…
Aeonar galloped his white stallion to the entrance of the Dragonpit, a giant domed structure built by King Maegor the Cruel to house the Targaryen dynasty's dragons after destroying the Sept of Remembrance during the Faith Militant uprising. Sitting atop the Hill of Rhaenys, the main gate consisted of massive doors with some iron and were so wide that thirty could ride through it at once. Several lesser entrances were also present on the hillside, some of them were -and-iron doors. The building's walls were thick and the roof strong. And when living dragons nested beneath the dome, a light would shine through the windows at night.
But the Prince of Dragonstone had not come to observe the structure. He came for one purpose: his dragon, Vaelor. Climbing off his horse, Aeonar pulled back his hooded cloak and approached the main entrance. Guarding the main entrance was the Dragonkeepers, a monk-like order tasked with guarding and taking care of the Targaryen dragons. Each of them wore plain, humble garments and wielded quarterstaves. Aeonar glanced at them, three acolytes and an elder.
"Kelītīs! Qilōni is konīr? (Halt! Who goes there?)" an elder demanded in High Valyrian.
"Aeonar hen Targārio Lentrot. (Aeonar of House Targaryen)," Aeonar answered equally, "Dārilaros hen Zaldrīzdōron se dārilaros naejot Dārys Viserys Targārio, se Brōzi ēlie Zȳho. (Prince of Dragonstone and heir to King Viserys Targaryen, the First of His Name.)"
The two acolytes looked at each other.
"Jiōrnon, Dārilaros Aeonar. Mazeman ziry ao nūmāzma naejot jurnegon va Vaelor bisa bantis. (Welcome, Prince Aeonar. I take it you mean to check on Vaelor this evening.)"
"Aye. Skorkydoso rōva ēza ziry sīmonagon? (How big has he grown?)"
"Keskydoso rōva hae Caraxes. Yn kosti jorrāelagon naejot umazigho ropakagon pelogho syt zirȳla. (The same size as Caraxes. But we may need to find another cage for him.)"
"Daor jorrāelagon. Ziry jorrāelagon naejot korzita zȳhon tīkuni syt iā harris. (No need. He needs to stretch his wings for a while.)" Aeonar walked inside with the Dragonkeepers. Inside, long brick-lined tunnels have been dug deep into the hillside, fashioned like caves, five times as large as the dragon's lairs on Dragonstone. "Vaelor!" his voice echoed.
For a moment, silence fell upon the Dragonpit. But then…
*"RAAAAAAAAAAAH!"*
The Dragonkeepers slowly edged back as the sound of thundering footsteps approached. The noise echoed throughout the structure and was growing louder. This tell-tale sign meant that within the Dragonpit, something big was approaching. Snarling and menacing. The gates leading outside slowly opened to allow light to enter. Aeonar braced himself as the dragon made its way into view, its orange-red slit-eyes staring down at him, hissing.
Vaelor, the dragon whose egg was placed beside Aeonar's cradle, had grown considerably large over the course of fifteen years to rival Caraxes in size. Based on what the Dragonkeepers had informed him, Aeonar speculated that with enough diet and exercise, Vaelor could one day approach Verimthor as well. Not too bulky, yet not too lean, a balanced approach made him one of the fastest dragons in the Seven Kingdoms next to Meleys - earning Vaelor the nickname "the Swiftrunner." Due to being bonded since birth, Aeonar and Vaelor had an exceptional relationship as Vaelor was fiercely loyal and protective of his rider - somehow as if sensing its master's thoughts. Aside from being intelligent and agile, like most dragons, Vaelor was aggressive. He was loyal to only his rider and would threaten anyone who got too close. Baring its teeth, Aeonar could feel the heat radiating from its jaws and placed one hand on Vaelor's snout, which was enough to calm the dragon for it to recognize his rider's scent.
"Issi ao ūbrie naejot arghutan? (Are you ready to hunt?)" Aeonar spoke.
Vaelor flicked his head, as if it did not need to be told twice. With a rumbling growl, the dragon lowered itself enough for Aeonar to climb on his back and strap himself into his harness. Gripping the saddle tightly, Aeonar looked beyond the horizon. Smiling confidently and with a sense of adventure, Aeonar tapped his dragon three times.
"Sōvegon! (Fly!)"
"*Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!*" Vaelor screeched.
Marching towards the exit with amazing speed, Vaelor accelerated his pace to charge outside before spreading his wings. Once the dragon gained enough traction, Vaelor began beating his wings up and down - each harder than the last. With a mighty flap, Vaelor took off into the skies, the sounds of his wings were like the clap of thunder. Within seconds, the duo soared past the clouds and embarked on a hunt.
"*Raaaaaaaaaaahh!*"
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