Chapter 1: Chapter 1: THE GREENS!
CHAPTER 1
RED KEEP
The Red Keep in the southern corner of the seven kingdoms stood and was magnificent as always. The huge castle cast a shadow across the city, whose dwellers felt their horrors grow as the incoming conflict promised to devour them all. For this was not a conflict between regular men. No, this was a conflict between dragon riders. This was a conflict between men who were fewer men and closer to gods. Riding atop creatures that could raze mountains in mere seconds.
All the people knew their insignificance in the upcoming conflict, knew that their meager lives were meaningless to those atop these creatures of legends. But they prayed, nonetheless. Prayed to any deity that would listen. Pray for their lives, pray for their lives to be spared. For they did not care who sat on the iron throne, they just wanted to live. Wanted their children to live. Perhaps, the gods had listened.
The colossal castle was full of activity. The forges running, smiths hammering and men drilling. Everyone was whizzing around the castle. There was a sense of urgency and melancholy in the castle. The castle had held a funeral for the young prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, the brutality of the attack had shocked them all. While the war of succession had begun, there had been only skirmishes till then. But then he had struck first.
Killing a child. Through two spineless men. Blood and Cheese, infiltrating the keep through one of its hidden passages and slaughtering a child. Kinslayer. Daemon Kinslayer.
And now the Greens had struck back. Prince Aemond had slain Lucerys Velaryon. While many would have expected the king to be jubilant at having struck hard at their enemies. Yet they were wrong, it is said that the young king Aegon, had himself wept after hearing the news.
In the Godswood. A table was set with people sitting on the chairs around it. The atmosphere was despondent. What many would consider due revenge and a great victory had not been perceived as such by the young king. The young king sat at the head of the table, his eyes red and puffy. He sat in his chair with all the grace of a king, as he stared at his brother.
"What did I say to you Aemond? What did I say before you rode off to Stormlands on Vhagar?" the king's tone was even, no fury or joviality perceptible to all those preset. Though the prince looked away at the question, his lone eye going in the direction of the man who sat to the side.
"Do not look at him Aemond. Look at me. What did I say to you before you rode off on Vhagar?" The kind asked once more. His words were much louder and more emphatic than before.
"Aego. . . .," the mother of the king tried to intervene. But, was stopped by the raised hand of her son. Who kept staring at his younger brother.
"Tell me, brother, what did I say?" Aegon asked once more. His tone was much subdued.
"You asked me to avoid conflict, and in case of a battle breaking out capture Lucerys and avoid killing him. But, Aegon they started . . . ." Aemond wanted to speak further but was cut off by his brother's words.
"Yet, you killed him. Killed because you deemed it more appropriate. And don't try and explain it. With everything I have taught you about dragon riding, there is nigh a chance you could not capture him with a Vhagar being five times the size of Arrax." Prince Aemond looked down, his gaze continuously lifting towards their grandfather.
The king looked towards his hand and grandfather, "Do you have something to say, Lord Otto? Why is it that my brother keeps looking at you instead of explaining the reason for his actions? Perhaps you would like to elaborate."
Otto Hightower had served as hand to Viserys Targaryen, a weak pliable man. In his old age, it seems that he had made a mistake. For there were many names for King Aegon, melancholic, reformer, rider, peacemaker, yet weak and pliable were not among them.
"Your grace," the aged Hand began, "After the atrocities from their side. I deemed it an appropriate response. You were mourning your son and I believed your judgment to be disparate." He finished and the King leaned back.
"It was my son who was killed, my son the first casualty for this accursed throne. MY SON. NOT YOURS. NOT AEMOND'S. MINE. AND HERE YOU ARE MORE THIRSTY FOR BLOOD THAN ME. DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL!" The king shouted from his seat. The sound of wood splintering reverberated across the Godswood.
A portion of the table had splintered off when the king had brought down his hand. From the side, Alicent Hightower rushed towards her son, who stood up and started walking back and forth.
"I planned to use Lucerys to get Rhaeneyra to agree to a council. A council where we could talk face to face and end this conflict so we don't recreate our doom."
"They butchered your son and you offer them peace. Have you gone mad?" Otto spoke from the side.
"There will be no peace with that Targaryen whore." As soon as the words left his mouth Otto regretted them immediately.
"What did I say to you about calling her like that? She is my sister" he was about to continue.
"THEY KILLED OUR SON AND YOU STAND THERE AND DEFEND HER. HAVE YOU NO SORROW FOR OUR SON? NO DESIRE FOR VENGEANCE. HOW HEARTLESS CAN YOU BE AEGON?" Helaena shouted at her husband who looked at her for the first time in the meeting.
"Do you have any idea of what you talk about? HE WAS MY SON, THE FATES HAUNTED ME THAT SIGHT SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN. AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. AND YOU STAND HERE AND TALK TO ME ABOUT VENGEANCE. VENGENCE AGAINST WHOM. VENGEANCE AGAINST THE GODS WHO CURSED ME WITH SUCH CRUELTY OR VENGEANCE AGA . . . ." The king stopped the words spoken by him finally registering as he watched the color drain from everyone's face.
Everyone's face turned white as they understood the meaning behind the king's words. For it was often said, the prince's eyes held sadness as if he had seen The Doom itself. For them to be true, meant quite a lot for House Targaryen. It had been saved once by such visions itself. Lady Daenys Targaryen from the old Valyria was driven to madness by the visions of The Doom. Ridiculed by all the forty, believed by only her lover as he fled the luxuries of the Valyria to the small island of Dragonstone. Ridiculed by the freehold, yet remembered in texts as The first believer. They were the only ones to survive as their empire fell burying those who ridiculed them within its rubble, sealing their fate once and for all.
"Leave me." The king said while slumping into his seat once more. His wife tried to touch him yet was rebuffed as the king spoke once more. "Leave!.. Please." Her hand paused as she looked at her husband's expression. He seemed so fragile at that moment. She looked back at her mother who nodded at her and Helaena Targaryen left the Godswood with her brother and grandfather, casting a parting glance at her husband and mother before vanishing into the woods.
Silence permeated in Godswood for a long time. Alicent kept thinking about her son's words. She lamented on how she had missed all the signs, his uncanny ability to know things. His distrust and hate for certain people. Could she have seen his pain? She looked at her son, he looked so defeated in his seat. Alone. As he had always been.
"My dear boy," she spoke tears streaming down her face. Her voice quivered, as she saw wetness along his cheeks.
"For as long as I can remember, every time I closed my eyes I would see people. People I had never seen, I would see them die a thousand different ways. Each one crueler than the last." He spoke slowly. Her heart bled as she listened to his words.
"Initially I could not recognize them, but as I grew so did the dreams. And then the faces started becoming more familiar. I saw people around me grow into the faces of my dreams. And then I finally understood that the gods were very cruel." He finished, turning his face towards her.
Perhaps after a very long time, she looked into the eyes of her son and found none of the brightness of youth in them. They were duller than the eyes of old King Jaeherys on his death bed.
"Aego. ." she tried to speak but was cut off once more. "Do you know my first thought when I held my son?" he asked derisively. Her heart dropped at his words, dread looming in her gut. "
"Instead of being happy, my first thought had been that he was going to be beheaded. My first thought upon seeing my babe was of his death." At this, she started sobbing. She got up from her chair and walked toward him.
She took his face into her hands, trying to ease his suffering. He sniffed, his lips forming a thin line before he started speaking once more.
"None of you understand the consequences of your actions. None of you." His voice was much sterner. "This is not a regular succession dispute, between regular men. This is a war between dragon lords. This won't stop with the death of thousands. This war would destroy millions, and I can assure you there will be no winners. No Blacks or Greens will emerge victorious from this conflict." He held her hands, as he finished, "There will be only survivors. Very few survivors."
She processed his words. And understood their severeness.
"But you could change things, Gaemon fled Valyria with and they survived. You have seen them, you could change things for . . ." She spoke yet he just shook his head a rueful smile spreading across his face.
"I have tried. Extensively, yet it seems the fates would not have it. Every time I tried to intervene, the fates would have everything arrive at the same place, just through a different route. Sequences would change, actions altered, faces exchanged yet the results would be the same. Every time. Every time." He finished and she understood the gravity of the situation.
To be a prophet of doom was a tragedy, but being a helpless prophet of doom was much crueler. She just sat there, hugging her son. As he shared his burden with her. After some time they separated.
"You could talk to your grandfather. He is . . ." she tried to say. But Aegon spoke first.
"You don't understand, do you?" he spoke softly. "I have seen everything, past present, and a doomed future. Everyone's deepest ambition, fears, treachery all them. I have seen their best and worst. I have seen it all." His words shook her to the core. This meant that he knew everything. EVERYTHING. Suddenly, she realized something else.
"So you knew about her and their secret. You have known about it all this time." He nodded at that, and a small pit of anger began to simmer in her heart.
"Then why do you still protect them? They are contenders for your right. Your right by birth." She questioned him, her voice a bit sterner.
"What would that have changed? They did not choose to be born with brown hair. Laenor did not choose his nature. And Rhaeneyra did not choose her husband." Aegon spoke softly. "We are all so poorly built."
She nodded her head at his words. He got up from his chair and kissed her forehead like he always did. She smiled as she always did.
"Don't worry mother. Despite my apparent failures, I have taken steps over the years." He spoke once more, his voice coming out much firmer.
"There won't be a dance of the dragons. I will make sure of it." He finished.
"What have you done?" she asked, despite expecting the incoming answer.
"Letters were sent to Dragonstone in the morning. There will be a council. A council of Greens and Blacks. Face to Face. We will talk and put this farce to an end."
She had expected those words, yet they were shocking nonetheless. No one would agree. Alone, Rhaeneyra may have accepted the offer, but with Daemon at her side. The chances of her accepting this were almost nonexistent.
"Aegon. No one would accept this. Us aside, Rhaeneyra will never accept this. Yes, you were friends once. But times have changed. There is just too much between you two now." She could understand him to a certain extent. Rhaeneyra and her had been friends once, yet here they were now. Bitter enemies. Aegon and Rhaeneyra had also shared a close friendship for quite some time.
"She will accept the Council. As for the peace afterward. We would just have to see. If the gods remain set on their cruelty. Then it is fated for the dragons to dance. And so dance they will. Burning the world to smeetherins." Aegon said with a finality in his voice. He then whispered lightly into her ears before leaving the Godswood.
Alicent looked towards his retreating back and after some time got up from the ground and left the premises as well, leaving the Godswood empty once more.
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The darkness now cast its long shadows everywhere in Kings Landing. The sun had set long ago. The commotion in the city had dwindled. Ser Criston Cole made his way to the King's chambers to begin his duty. The mood in the castle had been somber since the meeting in the Godswood. He like the rest of the Kingsguard was not aware of the cause of this pensive environment yet rumors were circulating in the castle. He reached his destination, and after knocking on the door, entered the King's chambers.
"Ser Gyles," he greeted his aged companion.
Ser Gyles returned the greeting. But, he seemed a little distressed. Ser Criston looked towards the chamber and found the King staring out the window, with a flagon of wine in his hand. Strewn across the floor was another flagon. Empty.
"I have not ever seen him drink like this. Be careful," Ser Gyles said before he left the Chambers.
Aegon took another deep swig. He had never seen the King drink more than a couple of cups. Ever. The King looked at him, a look of recognition passing through his eyes. The face of the King was flushed, his eyes dazed. Though he could spot something foreign in them. Something he had never seen in them before.
"Ahh, I remember you. Do you know the first time I saw you?" Words slipped out of Aegon's mouth. Words he would never utter otherwise, yet the wine had limited his inhibitions.
"A scorned, dishonored knight, kneeling in the Godswood." Ser Criston was petrified by those words, for he remembered their first meeting to be quite different.
"Sword stuck in the ground. Dagger in hand, pointing at your gut." How could it be? The knight clad in white thought.
"Then a voice stopped you from plunging that dagger into your gut. Giving you a chance to regain what you had lost." Aegon finished with slurred words. He then took another gulp of wine, before finishing his statement.
"HONOUR," the young King said derisively. Before continuing, not noticing the horror-stricken face of Ser Criston.
"I never really understood it. Honor. It seems too vague, too propagandistic." Aegon continued softly, leaning once more towards the open window. He called Ser Criston over, who walked towards his king with heavy steps.
"Do you see that fruit vendor down there? The female one with that small kid." The king pointed at a stall in the streets. The whitecloak could barely make out the silhouettes, yet he nodded.
"When her son was born, she was unable to make enough to feed him. So, I started ordering a guard to go to her shop and buy some fruit. But every time he would pay her more coin than due. Before her child was born, she usually returned the extra coin. But some time after her child's birth she stopped returning the extra coin." Aegon told him as he pointed at the stall deep into the city. Then he looked at Criston and spoke in an extremely serious tone.
"Do you think her honorable, Ser Criston?" Aegon questioned him, and he could see a pit drop in his gut. The King did not wait for his answer before looking out the window once more.
"Of course not, many would say. She is dishonorable. She steals from a simple castle guard. She has no honor." The King's words were not slurred any longer. Though they were barely above a whisper at this point.
"But to her child, she is the most honorable. She works hard all day for him. She gets him that special sweet from the vendor down the street once a week. He has not gone hungry for as long as he can remember. What care would he have of honor, as long as he gets to play all day and sleep with a full belly at night." The King finished.
"What do you wish to say, your grace?" Ser Criston Cole asked in a small voice as his eyes followed the trail of a mother and child walking down the street.
The King looked up straight into his eyes. And after a while spoke with a rueful voice.
"Ser Criston, there are few things worth having in life that come without a cost!" The King turned away from him. His eyes stared into the city once more.
"But it seems that I have been forced to make a decision of great consequences. To choose between peace, family, and a million lives." Aegon finished staring into his hand.
"I don't envy your position, your grace. But, no matter what you decide my sword will be yours to command." Ser Criston assured the young King.
There was a knock on the door, and Ser Criston opened the door and found Queen Helaena standing outside.
"My Queen," he curtsied
"Ser Criston, Ser Gyles mentioned that he is troubled," she asked while trying to look past him. The King was still looking out the window with his flagon in his hand.
"You did well in coming here. He seems troubled." Ser Criston whispered to her.
She nodded and entered the room. The Kingsguard closed the door behind her.
She slowly approached Aegon, noticing the empty flagon on the ground. His eyes still evading her. She placed her hand on his shoulder. He finally turned to look at her. His eyes met hers. And his lost color. How many times had she missed such a change? Though he had always been a beacon of composure. The perfect prince of the Greens. How much of that was even real? What horrors had he seen to become like this?
"Aegon, in the Godswood. I did not mean it. I know you loved Jaehaery. ." she began softly. Yet he just stopped her mid-sentence. Cutting her apology short.
"I know. You have nothing to apologize for." He then faced her once more. "You should rest, it has been a long day. I will be fine in the morning." And here he was taking on all the burden once more. She felt a little anger rise in her heart before she squashed it. She hugged him from the back, her face barely reaching his shoulders.
"You do not have to face it all on your own. I am your wife; it is my duty to share your burdens. So, please talk to me." Her voice quivered and her cheeks moistened as the words left her lips.
Aegon could feel the tremble in Helaena's body. Her dedication to him had always been absolute. He had tried to spare her all this heartbreak. Tears erupted in his eyes once more as he pictured his son's lifeless eyes.
"It was not supposed to be like this. It was not supposed to be like this." Aegon spoke softly, turning to face his wife who buried her head in his chest. Aegon gently wrapped his arms around her before he continued speaking.
"The gods curse me with this knowledge, yet they make me helpless in the face of it all. . ."
"Then, tell me. Tell me, so I can share this burden of yours. You don't have to bear it all on your own Aegon. If you doubt me, I can swear on Jaehaera that the knowledge shall not leave my mouth till my deathbed. But I can not watch you face it all alone. You have carried this burden for all this time, it is time you shared it with someone." She said resolutely. Staring into his deep purple eyes, noticing the slight green hue around the edges for the first time.
Aegon looked at his wife's determined face. Her face was filled with concern and dependability.
Perhaps, he could trust her. Mayhaps, it was time he shared his burden. So, he began speaking, both of them moving to their bed as he spoke of secrets and futures he had dreamt of since he was but a babe. He spoke of incidents of the past and more than hundred and fifty years into the future. They talked late into the night.
The just-risen sun shone softly on the city streets, bringing with it a flurry of early-morning activity. Ser Criston could feel fatigue creeping up on him. Suddenly the door to The King's chambers opened. He straightened up and found the King coming out of the room. The circles around his eyes are indicative of his lack of sleep. Yet his eyes were sharp. There was fortitude in them, fortitude which had been lost for quite some time.
"It seems the Sun has risen, Ser Criston." King Aegon said as he squinted at the rising Sun.
"Did you have trouble sleeping your grace," Ser Criston asked his king. King Aegon looked at him. Nodding his head slowly.
"Yes, I had a lot to think about last night. A lot." So did he, thought Ser Criston.
He had thought about his words. Last night's incident had confirmed the rumors of Aegon being a seer. Many Targaryens had tried and claimed this title, yet none could prove it. Yet, last night's incident had confirmed that King Aegon, the second of his name had been born with the same ability as Daeneys the dreamer. The ability to see beyond the confines of space and time.
"The Queen is asleep. Warn the servants to not disturb her under any circumstances."
Ser Criston nodded at that. "Where are you going, your grace?" he questioned the King.
The young King's eyes became resolute as he said these parting words. "I am going to polish my steel. I feel that there might be some bloodshed today."
And with those ominous words, the young King started walking towards the yard. Ser Criston looked at his retreating back. He tried remembering the last time he had seen the same determination in the King's eyes.
And after a while, he remembered. The King had the same look when he claimed the bronze fury. With perilous times ahead, it was good to see the King recovering his confidence. For he would need it to succeed against their enemies
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Ser Larys Strong made his way toward the King's chambers. His mind still trying to make sense of all the rumors that had reached his ears. He had missed the meeting as he was busy with some rather sensitive tasks outside the castle. But as soon as his carriage had entered the Red Keep, the servants had informed him of the Kings summons.
He dragged his limping foot behind him, his sturdy cane thrumming on the ground as he once again considered the somewhat confirmed rumor. A dreamer, he thought. For the King, to be born with the gift made things complicated. But it explained much of the mystery of the melancholic prince. His heightened intellect and queer behaviors made much more sense now.
He reached the chambers and the Kingsguard opened the door for him. He entered the chambers, the King was sitting on the chair at the head of the table.
"Your grace," he bowed lightly. King Aegon did not look up. His eyes were still transfixed on the cup in his hand. After a while, the King looked up and smiled at him.
"Ah. You are finally here. Take a seat, Lord Strong." The King said pointing at the seat opposite to him. He sat on the chair, and the cup-bearer poured some wine into his cup.
"A vintage I found in the King's chambers." The Kins said while sipping his cup.
King Aegon gestured for the cup-bearer to leave and he vacated the room. Now, it was only King Aegon and Lord Strong in the room. After a while, King Aegon spoke.
"How hapless it is. Family against family. Sister against brother. All for a single highly uncomfortable metallic chair." King Aegon said while looking at his cup. His voice was filled with sadness.
"Your grace, the Iron throne is yours by right and precedent. All those who deny it are usurpers and . ." but Lord Larys was cut off by the King.
"Yes. Yes and I must stand firm and defend my place, otherwise the realm will be drowned in chaos, and my family slaughtered. I remember all the speech from the small council when you made me wear this crown." The King pointed at the crown on his head. The Ruby crown off Aegon the conqueror.
"But sometimes I can not help but think that all this a heinous plot of the Gods," the King paused at that. Then, he looked straight at him. Brown eyes stared into purple as the Master of Whisperers felt a little noose around his neck.
"Or men," the King finished. Still, staring straight at him. Though Lord Larys felt as if he was looking through him. He felt bare under the King's gaze like all his thoughts and secrets were being dug out.
"The Gods can be cruel.." but he was cut off once more.
"Men as well. Men can be just as cruel, if not more." King Aegon said. After a while, their gazes separated and the King got up from his chair. He made his way toward one of the oil lamps.
"You know, when my son died I was filled with a maddening rage. Angered at me, for I had failed to protect him. He was a child and it was my duty to protect him and I had failed. I cursed my helplessness. I was distraught, for this meant that the sirens of war were rung. There would be no peace, no talking with Rhaeneyra. There would be war and the Royal house would be spit in two." The King held his hand over the fire for some time. Aegon then took out a piece of parchment and lit it aflame.
"Your grace, it was a dishonorable act, prince Daemon has shown his true colors. It just shows that he will stop at nothing to obtain the crown." Lord Larys Strong said lightly.
The King started walking towards him, but he stopped when he reached the unlit lamp at the corner of the room. The King lit the lamp. And there was someone else in the room. A man dressed in a large robe. Lord Larys Strong was getting nervous. Could it be, he thought.
"It is right. The prince will stop at nothing to satisfy his ambition." Once more the King looked towards him, his gaze filled with fire and fury.
"Neither will you and your friends." At this Lord, Strong knew. The secret was out. He leaned back into his chair. His demeanor changed completely as he asked the King.
"How did you know?" the Master of Whisperer asked, staring at the King. The King kept looking at him.
"I have known for years. Of certain elements working to destroy my family. Yet I knew of no faces. But you made a mistake. A single mistake. And that is all I needed. And now the veil is off." The King's words reverberated in the chamber, as he started walking once more. He then took the seat to the side of Lord Strong.
"You overreached. In your desperation, you killed my son. Well more like instigated him to do your dirty work. But still, you made a mistake and now I know." The King said leaning back into the chair once more.
Larys cursed his collaborators in his heart. For years they had worked in the shadows, to get rid of the Dragon Lords. But now their secret was out. The King spoke once more.
"All of your allies are either dead or dying. Every single one of them." The king's words shocked him. His eyes went wide as he understood the implication behind it. How he thought.
"Our coffers will take some time to recover. But Lord Lannister and I reached quite a sweet deal. A valyrian steel sword for three million gold dragons." The King spoke and he understood. Assassins, he realized. And with such a price, it was probably those accursed faceless men.
"You may kill us, but we have already won. You can not stop this war. You will all fight and hopefully tear each other to pieces, finally achieving what we set out to do all those years ago." And he was right. Turning family against family, was the only choice. For they had seen with the Cruel. Men were of no consequence against the Dragons.
The King nodded at that. His face had a pained expression. "You did succeed in doing so. There is blood between us now, and peace seems almost impossible." The King said lightly.
He smiled at that. But The King's next words would shock him, "Almost. But I have decided that there may still be hope. That is why a ship is moving towards Dragonstone, with the aged Lord Beesbury on it." And the Kings words made his eyes go wide.
"The ship sails with my letter and the body of Lucerys Velaryon. The letter calls for an end in all hostilities. King Aegon Targaryen, the second of his name would nullify his coronation if Queen Rhaeneyra Targaryen were to do the same. We would both meet as Prince and Princess, brother and sister." King Aegon finished. He took out a dagger and handed it to the third man in the room. The dark robed man was standing behind him.
"Nobody will accept such a proposal." Larys said as the man held the dagger to his throat. The King got up from his seat.
"You are right. Negotiations failed last time as well." As the Kings words registered Larys's eyes went wide. But the King continued, making Larys doubt their victory.
"But I have been preparing for such an eventuality for fifteen years. I am not going to lose so easily." And Larys felt pain in his throat. Blood began dripping into his lap, he looked down as his vision darkened. He closed his eyes muttering his final words.
"Curse be on Valyria. Devastation be on Valyria."
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No regular schedule for this. But this had been on my mind even before HOTD. So, it's going to be a bit of fun. Just enjoy and comment away your thoughts.
This is going to be short story so, will not be overly long.
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