Capítulo 13: Chapter 13: The Prince and the Maiden
Dragonstone - Aegon's Garden…
Aeonar traversed the arch of the Dragon's Tail until he reached Aegon's Garden. The garden itself had a pleasant piney scent, had tall dark trees, wild roses, towering thorny hedges, and cranberries. He had received reports from his staff that Rhaenyra and Alicent were located somewhere within the gardens, and Aeonar knew he had to make amends with Alicent for leaving her the way he did. The prince felt a lump in his throat - nothing he could say or do would ever justify his actions, but he could not bear the thought of losing the love of his life. He had to make things right… if she was at least willing to him out before making an official decision. But when he got to the garden, he could see Rhaenyra and Alicent chatting. Aeonar was certain to leave obscure, yet deciphered codes to his agents to ensure his messages would not be intercepted. His sister he was not concerned with, but Alicent… Aeonar knew that she would be quite upset with him for having disappeared for six months. He was hoping some of the messages he sent to Rhaenyra would be sent back - letting him be aware of her activities and knowing that Aeonar was always watching her from a distance.
But still, he prepared himself to take the backlash.
There she is. Still so beautiful these past six months. But… I did not expect this to be easier. It is harder than I thought. "Alicent," Aeonar called out.
Both Rhaenyra and Alicent turned to see Aeonar standing before them in the gardens.
When Alicent saw Aeonar, it was like seeing a ghost. Her eyes widened and her face paled slightly. But when Rhaenyra saw him, her face immediately brightened, and she rushed from her position under the largest tree and embraced her brother in a hug. Though as she hugged him, she whispered into his ear. "I have prepared her as much as I can, you need to do the rest. So do not fuck it up," she said as she kissed his cheek.
Aeonar nodded at Rhaenyra and stood before Alicent. It had been six months so no doubt she had a lot of pent-up stress and anxiety. "I'm sorry I left without saying anything. I don't expect to receive your forgiveness outright, but I would do whatever it takes to regain your trust." Expecting a backlash, Aeonar turned his head sideways - anticipating a slap and harsh words.
Alicent approached him. Unsettled, uneasy… relief, yes, but seeing Aeonar in front of her now? A lot of repressed emotions were suddenly brought to the surface. He disappeared after Queen Aemma's funeral and no one in the realm knew where he went. Alicent felt her hands and arms trembling, she bit her lower lip.
But then…
A light, yet audible smack! Aeonar was briefly surprised when Alicent slapped him on the other cheek instead of the one he offered, leaving behind a faint handprint. Before he could say or do anything else, Aeonar felt multiple thumping against his torso. He could see Alicent smacking him repeatedly.
"Bastard!" Alicent shouted, tears flowing down her cheeks as she continued pummeling Aeonar. "I was worried sick about you, y-you idiot! I hate you; I hate you; I hate you; I hate you!" she continued screaming at him. "How could you just leave me like that?! Why?! How could you do this?!"
Aeonar quickly grabbed Alicent's wrist and pulled her close to him. He felt her struggle in his grip and put up fierce resistance, but eventually began to slowly subside and sink into his embrace.
"You stupid, scruffy-looking goat herder… I thought you were dead. I almost… But why? How could you put me through that? Why didn't you talk to me? Why… why did you run away without a word?" Alicent demanded.
"I'm sorry I left the way I did," Aeonar apologized and held Alicent tightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you or cause you so much emotional distress. But I was not myself for quite a while. I know this does not excuse or justify my actions, but I am sorry, Alicent. Really. With every fiber of my being, I am sorry."
For a few moments, Alicent did not say anything, all she did was remain motionless in Aeonar's grasp, afraid that if she let him go, he would vanish again. The prince did not complain, he stood there gently trying to soothe the daughter of House Hightower. From around a corner, just out of sight, Rhaenyra watched her brother and best friend. She did not consider it spying, more like ensuring that everything went right.
Finally, when all Alicent's frustrations had burned out, she wiped her eyes and tried to look as dignified as she possibly could. "So, do you imagine that you can just return after vanishing for half a year and that I will forgive you on the spot?"
"After what I've done? No, I would not think so," Aeonar shook his head. "If anything, actions speak louder than words. I'd have to prove my sincerity."
"Oh?" Alicent asked with faux disinterest, "and how do you propose to prove this sincerity? Climb the highest mountain of the realm and bring me an enchanted chalice of gold? Or perhaps swim to the bottom of the God's Eye and rise from the bottom with a sacred sword of some long-dead hero?"
"Knowing you, no. That seems rather out of character for you. Do you want to know the truth? It is not pleasant, but if such small steps are needed to regain your trust, then I will be transparent. You name your terms and I'll provide them."
"My terms? Very well. I have but one requirement if you want me to trust you again, perhaps the hardest thing the Master of Whisperers can do." Alicent said firmly. "I want only the truth out of you from now on." She crossed her arms to emphasize her point. "I want nothing but complete honesty and transparency. No more secrets. No more lies. And if I catch so much as a whiff of deceit from you, I swear by the Old Gods and the New it is over between us."
She… she is not joking. She is deadly serious. Aeonar inhaled. "All right," he exhaled slowly. "After the funeral, I felt something inside eating away at my psyche. I have mentioned our family's history of insanity earlier, the madness that plagues us. It is like an itch in the back of my mind. It calls to you, quiet at first. But then the dark impulses gradually begin to eat away at you until you are left as but a shell of your former self. It is not something an outsider would understand. After my mother died, something in me… just snapped. Broke me. If I had stayed and been reminded of everything, knowing that it was my father who gave the order to cut my mother open, only for his so-called dreams to backfire on him… I would have become another Maegor the Cruel. It was a tough decision to make, but I needed this." He glanced over his shoulder at the platinum-hooded assassin's training on the beaches. "One day, during my journeys, I came across these assassins whose ancestry traces back to Old Valyria. They called themselves the Lykirī Mēre - meaning 'Silent Ones'. Their methods are normally reserved only for their acolytes, but what remains of their historical records indicate they have witnessed the Targaryen madness before when Valyria dominated the known world. But they had nowhere to go. Their order no longer existed. What was left of them was scattered to the winds. So, I trained with them near where Old Valyria once stood… to keep my impulses in check. I wouldn't have been the same if I had stayed otherwise."
From start to finish, Aeonar explained in detail about his travel to Essos, with Vaelor as his only companion, and the need to keep the Targaryen madness within him in check before it spiraled out of control until it was too late. He warned Alicent of its symptoms and the nature of any member of his family who eventually succumbs to it.
The Lykirī Mēre was an ancient Valyrian Freehold assassination guild in service to the lords freeholder until the Doom obliterated the once mighty empire. With so few of them left in existence, those who survived went into hiding and went their separate ways before their numbers began to dwindle and eventually were replaced by the Faceless Men. Where their guild once held up to 1,000 now stood at a mere fifteen. Beginning at an early age, from the lowliest acolyte to the Grand Master themselves, they spent their entire lives training to kill, observe their surroundings and plan ahead. Though the training was rigorous - if not most often fatal - experienced assassins instilled a great deal of restraint and discipline in their apprentices.
"There's no cure for what my family is at risk for," Aeonar continued, "but it is treatable by other means." He turned to Alicent. "Even as we speak, it's taking every ounce of willpower I have to keep my impulses as well as my sanity in check. Remember the phrase every Westerosi says about us? 'Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. And the world holds its breath to see how it will land.' My great-grandfather, the Old King Jaehaerys, was lucky enough to avoid it - as did my father. But the rest of us? The future is uncertain. It could happen at any time."
Alicent just stood there in silence, processing all the information that Aeonar had just told her - from flying over the richest, majestic city-state of Braavos, his brief stay at Prince Reggio Haratis's palace in Pentos, fishing at Lorath, meditating with the warrior-priests of Norvos, learning to forge new steel at Qohor, his meeting with the three Triarchs of Volantis, his occasional run-ins and skirmishes with various Dothraki tribes, as well as his time with what remained of the Lykirī Mēre.
From her hiding spot where she was listening, Rhaenyra had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as she heard her brother bare his soul.
Alicent took a deep breath, focusing her own mind as she collected herself. "You're… not lying to me, are you?" she asked inquisitively.
Aeonar did not break eye contact. "It sounds like it was all conjured out of thin air, I know, but I swear it's the truth." He shook his head again. "I might be many things, but not once did I ever lie about what I felt about you, Alicent. I swear this upon the memory of my mother. Whatever harm I have done, is entirely on me. And that is that. But I leave this - us - entirely in your hands now. Whatever decision you make, I'll respect it."
Alicent kept her focus locked on Aeonar. She has known the prince and the royal family her entire life, became romantically involved with Aeonar since she was thirteen years old, and now this? This was a lot to take in. Throughout their entire conversation, she had her thumbs placed on Aeonar's wrists to determine whether he was being truthful or not. If there were an irregular pulse beating, then everything would have been a lie. But surprisingly, the pulse was rather steady, and he never turned his gaze from her at all. "It's going to take time," she admitted. "I honestly don't know where we'll end up, Aeonar, but if what you're telling me is indeed the truth… then I suppose I'll give us another chance." She then spoke firmly. "But be warned: this will be the last time. Don't keep anything hidden from me again."
Okay, okay. What is this? Healing through guilt? Well, I was not expecting that much, but I suppose something is better than nothing. So be it. A fresh start then. "I understand. If being transparent is what it will take for us to stay together, then I will move mountains to make us work," Aeonar agreed to Alicent's conditions.
The two slowly embraced each other in a warm hug, reconciling and determined to rebuild their relationship from scratch. It would take time for trust and faith to be brought back to the way it was, but both youths seemed unwilling to let what they had built together crumble away without giving the other a fighting chance. They could not afford to be at each other's throats. Aeonar missed this, and he was certain Alicent felt the same. She still smelt the same as he remembered - fresh like a lilac, sweet like honey. But he was not aware of what he was doing as Aeonar heard a soft grunt.
"Ngh! Aeonar… Aeonar," Alicent strained, "you're hurting me."
Aeonar suddenly snapped back into reality and realized his hold on Alicent was becoming too tight before immediately releasing her, allowing her plenty of space to breathe. "Oh! Uh, sorry," he apologized in slight embarrassment.
Alicent took a small step back to adjust her gown. Has he always been this strong? Or… did that change somehow? For a while, silence hung in the air, but this time, the atmosphere's tension eased and was calmer. It was not much, but she had her childhood sweetheart back. "Things just… they wouldn't be the same without you," she confessed. "The king was wracked with so much guilt over what had happened. You know he doesn't want to lose his family all over again."
"I know. He told me that earlier, but I'll only believe it when I see it." Aeonar then turned his head to the corner. "And didn't mother tell you it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, Rhaenyra?" he called out loudly.
Rhaenyra almost jumped. Aeonar knew she was there the whole time! Alicent could not help but giggle as Rhaenyra came out into the open, trying to look as dignified as possible. "So, you heard me huh?" she feigned innocence.
"Try and deceive others, little sister, but you can't fool me. Besides, who's the better spymaster around here?"
"Eugh, a role you practically forced on me. How do you even put up with all those stuck-up cunts?"
"Rhaenyra!" Alicent said visibly horrified.
"I had my ways, but that was the old me. The new me will not take such insolence lying down."
"Aeonar!"
"So," Rhaenyra pressed, "I assume this means you've spoken to father. You have mended things over?"
Aeonar frowned a bit. "Just because the two of us are talking again, doesn't mean I've forgiven or forgotten. If anything, trust is going to have to be rebuilt from the ground up," he turned to Alicent. "From all of us."
"She wouldn't stop crying for quite a while after you left, you know," Rhaenyra then turned serious. "You hurt her, Aeonar. You hurt Alicent badly. For fuck's sake, she's practically family at this point."
"I know, I know. We're working it out."
Alicent then sided with Rhaenyra. "You have a lot of making it up to me," she reminded.
"Exactly," Rhaenyra agreed. "So, unless you don't want to lose her forever, you'd best pull your weight and do the heavy lifting in your relationship."
"Qrugh (Shit)," Aeonar shook his head, "is this your way of getting back at me?"
Rhaenyra could not help but chortle. "Maaaaaaaybe~," she teased.
"Ugh… still such a pain in the ass."
"You know you love it!"
Alicent and Rhaenyra both laughed at watching Aeonar's exacerbated expression. Both adolescent girls departed as it was time to eventually return to King's Landing. Aeonar remained behind for a while, bemoaning the position he put himself in. Well, this was karma coming back to kick him in the ass for disappearing six months ago. It would take time, but his relationship with Alicent was important to him.
Before Aeonar could leave, one of his agents arrived and handed him a sealed scroll. Breaking the waxed seal, the prince examined the message entailed before nodding in acknowledgment and presenting him with further instructions. The spy bowed once more and left, leaving Aeonar with his thoughts in momentary solitude.
"So, he's on the move. Just as I had foreseen." Craghas Drahar… do not think your actions have gone unnoticed. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Try all you might, but you cannot avoid my gaze forever.
- The Stepstones-
Bloodstone…
On a beach of one of the islands, rotten, decaying corpses lay on the oceanic sands of the Stepstones. Crawling on top of wooden posts was a horde of carnivorous crabs that have come to feast on the flesh of the dead or dying. One sailor twitched and painfully moaned in a severely weakened state. More shipwrecked sailors had been nailed down, alive but unable to flee the carnage or defend themselves from the hell they found themselves in.
Slowly eaten alive by crabs or left to drown at low tide.
Nearby, a large contingent of Triarchy soldiers is seen carrying around cargo they successfully plundered from unlucky ships that sailed through the Stepstones. Under the leadership of prince-admiral Craghas Drahar, known to his enemies as 'the Crabfeeder' for his habit of feeding his surviving enemies to crabs by staking them to the shores during the low tide, the Triarchy was on the verge of completely conquering the Stepstones upon bringing an end to the increasing pirate activity in the area and levied high taxes on all passing ships in exchange for this protection. As the years passed since the alliance between Lys, Myr and Tyrosh were formed, the taxes grew worse than the losses to the pirates used to be and tensions rose sharply between the Triarchy and the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
But the process was an uneasy one. With every advance they made into the Stepstones, the Triarchy found themselves hampered. Their movements slowed and more ships arrived in greater numbers and were heavily armed. None among the Triarchy had planned such an earlier retaliation.
"This should have been easier," a Lynese raider said.
"Yeah. At our pace, we should have seized the Stepstones by now," a Tyroshi brawler agreed.
"Something's not right," a Myrish archer sniffed the salty sea air. "Someone knew we were coming… and they knew where and how to hit us. They got here too fast."
"These ships… couple merchant sails, but one of them was flying a seahorse. All of them were heavily armed. Four of our ships were destroyed and fifty of our brethren from our respective city-states have been lost to the seas."
"My guess? They must have quite the strategist leading them… or a joint effort between multiple parties."
"Nyke lua. (I agree.)" a voice called out in a Myrish accent.
The Triarchy personnel quickly rose and gave a salute at the arrival of their commanding officer, Craghas Drahar himself. Hailing from the city-state of Myr, he led the forces onto the Bloodstone. Exhaling grimly, Craghas wore a broken Ghiscari mask on his face to cover up the greyscale affliction. Yet even he shared the same theory as his underlings. The Stepstones should have been completely under the Triarchy's control, but their progress had been hampered every step of the way and the invasion is being slowed.
"Skoros yenka gaomi, dārilaros-jentys? (What should we do, prince-admiral?)" one of the men inquired.
Craghas gave a long, soft exhale as his dreary eyes examined the Bloodstone. There were caves nearby, which could be useful to take cover. No doubt the caves would benefit them should it come to open warfare. "Jurnegon se qrimbughetan lōgor. (Search the wreckage.)" he commanded gutturally. "Se emagon īlva gierion mazverdagon gaomagon hen lī nopalbar. Konīr kessa sagon tolī loktys māzis, yn emilzi daor iderennon yn naejot vīlībagon va īlva ninkion. (And have our people make use of those caves. There will be more sailors coming, but they will have no choice but to fight on our field.)"
"Rȳ istin, dārilaros-jentys. (At once, prince-admiral.)"
More Triarchy forces began to disperse across Bloodstone, conducting orders in High Valyrian - a language the Free Cities understand - and searching for any valuables they could find before positioning archers atop the cliffs and making a base of operations from the nearby caves.
The Crabfeeder, on the other hand, approached a dying scout and knelt. "You, Westerosi," he spoke in the Common Tongue, "how did your navies know we were coming?" he interrogated.
The man said nothing but weakly looked at Craghas with contempt.
"Speak."
Still, the man said nothing.
Feeling this was going nowhere, Craghas grabbed the man's chin and forced his mouth open. There he realized the reason his captive was not saying a word. "Ah, a mute. Very, very clever," he said. "Your master had your tongues cut out to not reveal your secrets." Craghas then reached into his captive's pocket and unveiled a wet cloth, a three red-headed dragon on a black field. "A Targaryen," his voice was deep. "Your king didn't seem to strike us as the kind of man who would give us so much trouble. No, this had to be his son… am I right?" The Crabfeeder then rose. "No matter. The Stepstones are hereby annexed by the Triarchy and are from this day until the end of time part of our domain. Any ships passing through these lanes who refuse to pay their tolls will have to suffer the consequences."
Grabbing his hammer, Craghas began nailing yet another victim to a wooden plank as more crabs began arriving to feed on another unfortunate helpless captive. Nailing down the bolt deeper into his hands, the Crabfeeder now understood who his unnamed rival was. An adversary was worthy of respect who knew a lot about him, his troop movements, and the ally of his commanding the opposing vessels who collaborated with him.
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