章 38: Tavern
The air was thick with the smell of sweat and spilled ale, laughter mingling with the clinking of mugs. The tavern celebrating the tourney, apparently it was an incredible time.
Aerion never even participated.
"I don't know anythin' piss off" a gruff voice murmured, the weathered man going back to drinking his bitter ale.
"I will give you a golden dragon" Aerion hissed quietly, pushing a golden coin onto the table. The man eyes flicked to it, scoffing after a brief moment of thought.
"How much is your life worth?" The man asked slowly, his dark eyes sliding to meet Aerions. The bastard blinked, his answer coming without hesitation.
"Priceless"
The older man hummed at his answer "Then you understand why I won't speak" He answered, his head turning away the golden dragon. Aerion snarled, he'd been asking all day, it seemed anyone who knew anything knew to keep their damned mouths shut.
"A boy was killed, a coin melted into his fucking skull!" Aerion hissed, his guilt and anger rising to the surface.
That was his coin.
He made the boy speak.
The man scoffed "Kids are killed everyday, should it bother me how he died" Aerions snarl only growing at the words. Yet he saw a flicker of unease in the man's eyes, that just further angered him.
The man knew it was wrong, that it was a vile, disgusting act, yet he still didn't speak. He clenched his jaw so hard spots built behind his eyes, his fists clenched as the image of the dead boy played through his mind.
Coward
"Listen, it's—it's bad but…there's nothing—" the man tried to explain, Aerions anger snapped.
His fist snapped out, smashing into the man's jaw with a crack, sending him tumbling off of the stool onto the wooden floor below. The tavern eyed the building fight with excitement, the barman sighing as he handed out another pint.
"Tell me" Aerion snarled as he smashed his boot into the man's ribs, the older man gasping in pain as he fell back onto his face. The tavern seemed to wince collectively.
Aerion grabbed the man's collar, the cheap fabric tearing slightly as he yanked him off the ground and threw him into a nearby table.
The men sat there, grabbed their pints and jumped back, as the table cracked in half. Aerion dropped to a knee beside the man.
"Tell me or I'll kill you myself" he hissed, his eyes narrowed into slits. The man winced, shifting uncomfortably, the tavern dropping in sound at the stop in action.
"I—I don't—" Aerions fist smashed into the man's face, his nose breaking with a sickening crack that seemed to echo through the bar.
"Tell me!" He snarled, the man's blurry eyes locking fearfully onto Aerion. His eyes were tightening as his fists clenched at his sides uselessly. A moment of heavy silence passing between the two, the tavern eyeing them curiously,
The man snarled like a cornered animal, his eyes flicking up to Aerion, he had no doubt this young man wouldn't hesitate in killing him.
"I—I don't know—exactly where they're taken or what happens to them" he whispered, the sound carrying through the suddenly silent tavern. The man's throat bobbing unsteadily as he looked up at Aerion. "But—but I know—I know who helps" he explained shakily.
The tavern was deadly silent.
"Who?" he asked, his voice cold and steady. The tavern seemed to hold its breath eyeing them both disbelievingly. The man hesitated, but he's already too deep.
"G-Goldcloaks" he whispered, yet his words felt deafening, the surrounding, drunk smallfolk slowly started to edge away, some even leaving the tavern.
"They take the kids?" Aerion confirmed, his voice a low growl, pressing the man for clarity.
"'N-no, they just look the other way" the man whispered, his voice shaking, fear evident in his wide eyes. "I—I don't know more, please—I—I need to go" he finished desperately, his eyes wide and panicked.
Aerion stood, flicking a golden coin down to the man.
"Escape while you can" Aerion said simply, leaving the tavern, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword,
—-
He stood across the weirwood tree, the sun was just setting, a beautiful orange and purple hue lighting up the sky. The gardens were calm…beautiful and peaceful.
Yet he wasn't.
He was drowning.
He'd made that boy speak—the image of the coin, melted into his skull fluttered back into Aerions mind, he almost gagged, holding it back desperately as he looked down at the grass beneath his feet.
He didn't even know the boys name…
His fists clenched uselessly at his sides, his eyes burning as he furrowed his brows, blinking quickly. The clinking of armour sounded, Aerion almost snarled, could he not get a singular moment alone in this accursed city!
"Ser" The Princesses voice rang out, Aerion didn't look up, he kept his head bowed towards the free.
"Princess" he responded, his tone flat.
"You weren't at the tourney" She mentioned curiously, a hint of disappointment in her tone. Aerion clenched his jaw, his eyes remained fixed on the ground below.
"I was not," he answered. "My apologies" he said, though he didn't feel particularly sorry, he had more important business—the image of a purple eyed boy being kidnapped shot through his mind.
"It is of no issue" she responded "Criston crowned me in your stead" she teased, Aerions attention piquing at that. His eyes raised, pausing on the wreath of beautiful flowers placed atop her head. A pang of jealousy and bitterness rushed through him at the sight before he stomped it down.
A moment of silence passed, Aerions eyes lingering on the wreath a moment longer before his gaze flicked to Ser Criston, standing behind her, his eyes on the pair. Thinking of something, anything to ask.
"How is it you always find me here?" Aerion asked almost sombrely, as his gaze flicked briefly to the crow pendant hanging from her neck, a warm feeling burning through him at the sight. Rhaenyra's brow arched, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.
"I might ask the same of you," she replied, her tone cool but laced with amusement. Her fingers grazed the pendant lightly. "The gardens are where I find my peace. It seems I am not the only one"
"Perhaps," Aerion muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly, "but you always seem to be here"
She paused, the briefest hesitation before speaking again. "These days, it doesn't seem I have much else to do" she responded, her tone holding a rare tone of dejection.
Aerion blinked "I always assumed that the Heir of the Seven Kingdoms would be quite busy" he said, his head tilting slightly. Rhaenyra scoffed, almost resentfully.
"I always assumed the same, but it seems I am nought but a cupbearer for my fathers council" she spat, her tone venomous as she thought back to her fathers council meetings. "They do not listen to a word I say"
"They're fools," Aerion said casually.
Rhaenyra's eyes flicked up to meet his, a spark of curiosity in their depths. "They want a prince, not a princess. No matter what I say, it will continue to fall on deaf ears."
Aerion was silent for a moment, feeling the cold bite of the evening breeze. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but something made him hesitate. His mind drifted back to the tavern, to the boy who had died because of him. The way the world devoured the weak, the powerless.
"You have power, Princess," Aerion finally said, his tone firm. "More than you know" he said, and it was true. A small, bitter smile pulled at her lips.
"Yet, they will not listen" she said, dejected.
"Then make them"
—-
He dropped to a knee, bowing his head, his presence had just been announced. He was a petitioner, though this time he wasn't dragging a corpse in his wake.
"Your grace" Aerion said.
"Rise, Ser" The King responded, his eyes focused on the bastard curiously. "What is it you ask?" He asked, as Aerion stood, looking up at The King atop the throne.
"Your Grace, I have suspicions that the Goldcloaks are taking bribes, to ignore children being killed and kidnapped in Kingslanding" he said firmly, ignoring the explosion of whispers from behind him, courtiers shocked by his words.
Viserys blinked, surprise running through him at the boy's words. Otto however spoke quickly, his eyes narrowed at the bastard.
"You come to the King with mere suspicion?" He pressed. Aerion nodded, his eyes however stayed locked onto the King atop the throne.
"I do, I've questioned several small folk over this matter" Aerion responded, though unease ran through him.
"Do you have any to bear witness?" King Viserys asked, his brows furrowed. Aerions jaw clenched, he knew his evidence was slim to none, this was foolish…undoubtedly so.
But as his head turned back to the courtiers, he noticed a few looking uncomfortable. His eyes narrowed, this is what he was really here for.
He turned back to The King.
"I'm afraid not Your Grace" Aerion answered "One fled the city in fear of retaliation, the other…was killed, he was but a boy, no older than ten" Aerion said, the memory of the boy rushing back to him.
Otto spoke "That witness, the one that fled" the hand paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that the man you beat half to death in a tavern?"
Aerions eyes widened "He wouldn't speak—" Aerion tried to explain, but Otto interrupted.
"So you started to beat on him?" He questioned, his eyebrow raising as he eyed the bastard. Aerion clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing.
"I offered him a golden dragon, yet he still feared to speak of the Goldcloaks, that should show that there is something—"
"All it shows is that he feared you and would potentially say anything to get out of his situation" Otto interjected. Aerion almost snarled but held it back, looking down at the ground for a moment as he calmed himself.
This was a battle he would not win.
"Your Grace" he said, speaking directly to the King "One of my witnesses was a boy, an innocent boy who was murdered—"
"Which could be lies—" Otto tried to interject once more, this time Aerion continued to speak, ignoring the hand.
"—he did no wrong! He merely told me that children were being kidnapped, for that I gave him a silver coin" he spoke, his breaths coming quicker as the words left his lips. "He was—was found dead the next morning, with the same silver coin—melted into his skull!" Aerion hissed, a tone of desperation breaking through his anger.
The King's eyes narrowed at the bastard's words, the courtiers behind him quietened and Rhaenyras eyes widened, the princess stood to the side of the throne, her eyes fixed on the bastard.
His words ran through her head.
"Then make them'
"All I ask, Your Grace, is that you have someone look into it" Aerion said, the bastard's head turning back to the courtiers, his eyes roving over the figures. "Thank you for your time" he said as he dismissed himself.
Yet as Aerion left, his eyes locked onto a pale form, a brown curly haired courtier, his green watery eyes wide. Aerions however were a dark viridescent purple, narrowed and sharp.
—-
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