บท 134: Cruelty II
(Third Person POV)
[Dragonstone]
"Y-Your Grace!" Baela said as tears ran down her face, "I'm sorry!"
Rhaenyra walked up to her with a look of surprise, "Baela!" She said, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?"
She placed her hand on Baela's shoulder as Baela wept, immediately knowing something was wrong.
Baela looked down, "I'm sorry...." She cried, "I.....couldn't do anything...G-Grandmother....and Jace..."
Rhaenyra looked at her with a frown, "W-What do you mean?" She asked, "What of Jace?"
Baela looked at her, "H-He's dead..."
Rhaenyra widened her eyes, "N-No...." she said softly as tears formed in her eyes, "No, no, you must be wrong...."
Baela shook her head, "I saw it..." she cried, "H-His dragon crashed after we were attacked by Aegon and two unknown dragonriders....his head was..."
Baela covered her mouth as she closed her eyes, the image of Jace's brutal death flashing in her eyes. The sight of his head was enough to disturb her, leaving her speechless.
Rhaenyra stepped away as she looked away, in complete shock, "No..." She said, "W-Where's Rhaenys?"
"She came to help me.." Baela sniffed, "I...she told me to leave.....I'm sorry, I should've stayed, I..."
"N-No.....you did well....." Rhaenyra said as she stumbled slightly
"Your Grace." Ser Erryk said as he caught her with his arm, "Are you alright.."
"I need to sit down...." Rhaenyra said, "L-Leave me....please..."
Ser Erryk looked at Baela who was wiping her tears, "R-Right...." he said as he walked over to Baela, "Lady Baela..."
Baela nodded and walked alongside the Queensguard, leaving the room as Rhaenyra slowly sat down in a chair, looking at the floor with a shocked expression, her face going pale.
The news of her son's death came to a shock to the Queen, she was unsure of how she should react. Jaecaerys was her firstborn son, the first of her children she would come to love and adore.
Rhaenyra's hands began to tremble as tears rolled down her cheek, "J-J-Jace...." She said shakily as she looked down, "Why...? Gods, why? Why did you take my boy from me?"
She covered her face with her hands as she began to weep, the tears unable to be stopped. There was nothing but a feeling of dread that filled throughout her body.
As Rhaenyra cried, she was wiping her tears, "No....." She said as her eyes were red, "Why? Why must it come to this....?"
"Aerion...."
************
[A Camp, Near Stony Sept]
As Tyrell bannermen were setting up a camp, Vermithor was seen laying down and sleeping. The surrounding area was covered in ashes and smoke, the remnants of a quick battle. Of course, it was Vermithor who had laid ruin to a small force of a couple hundred Hightower forces that were able to break off from the main host.
The tactics the Hightower army was employing were rather strange, even for Aerion. They broke off some of their main forces to distract the Tyrell forces from the south as they attacked the Riverlands. What bothered Aerion the most was that Daemon would not commit the Tully forces completely and he would have to pick up the pace more. Aerion would use the same tactics as before; fighting on land in order to avoid luring Vhagar or Tessarion.
This was mostly done to spare his Tyrell forces from annihilation. The men that Aerion led would witness the bloody spectacle that was Aerion Targaryen fighting. Swing after swing, body parts flew out as blood rained down to the ground. Rivers of blood were created everywhere Aerion walked, his two blades being the judges of life and death.
But this was already done and after a quick battle against straggling forces, Aerion and the Tyrell forces were taking a break.
To the edge of the camp, Aerion sat on a log, cleaning his sword as he wore his armor. His helm sat next to him, any blood barely cleaned off the steel. His entire armor was also freshly cleaned, a Tyrell squire helped him scrub any blood off. He would've taken the thing off but didn't wish to, as he would be on high alert the entire time; a fight could break out at any minute.
As he cleaned Lady Rhea, a Tyrell soldier walked up to him, this was the same one from before, the one that spoke to him in the Westerlands.
"My Lord." He said as he held a letter in his hand, "A letter....from Runestone...."
Aerion looked up, "Hm?" He said, "Willam?"
He planted his sword on the ground and stood up, walked over to the man and he took the letter from his hand. As he stepped to the side, reading the contents, there was an air of tension that every soldier could feel. The man had not read the letter, but the messenger who brought it was able to tell them the grim news that was quickly spreading throughout the realm.
Aerion was ignorant of the second dance.
Aerion's eyes scanned the contents of the letter and he merely stood there, taking in the new information. His hands slowly trembled as a serious look in his eye appeared, one that unsettled everyone who looked at him. His face hardened completely, much more than it already was.
Aerion slowly lowered his hands, the letter on his right and he began to walk to the side, where a pile of ash was; a result of the battle that happened prior.
"Your name?" Aerion asked the man who brought him the letter
"Curt...." The man said
"Curt..." Aerion said as he knelt down and grabbed a handful of ash, "Remember how I said that I am worried about taking the lives of the dragonriders before?"
"Y-Yes..." Curt said, knowing what he meant
Aerion's back was to the rest of the camp, nobody could see his face but they could feel the tension in the air.
"The Gods are Cruel..." Aerion said with an awfully calm voice as he lifted his hand and ash fell from it, spreading through the air due to the breeze, "Fire and Blood.....that's all they want to see....."
Vermithor slowly woke up, feeling Aerion's emotions. He immediately raised his head as he let out a vicious growl. Everyone in the camp became aware of this; the Bronze Fury was not happy. And neither was Aerion Targaryen.
Aerion was looking at the ash that spread throughout the air, "My Son is Dead...." He said as a single tear ran down his cheek, "What should I do about that?"
"M-My Lord?" Curt said
Aerion stood up as he clenched his fist, "Gods forgive me..." He said as he closed his eyes, trying to keep more tears from coming, "You will curse me for what I will do....Rhaenyra....I will do what I must...."
"For your boy..."
[a/n: I know everything seems so grim and forced. But you must understand that happiness was not part of the plan, considering The Black Lord already somewhat established the result of The Dance. However, this is Aerion's story that will link to The Black Lord as well. And while I wish to wrap this up rather quickly, Aerion's story will not end.
There will be so much that will be unanswered and will be left ambiguous, just want to warn you all. That would be done on purpose, in case I want to write another sequel, directly after the events of this story (Aegon III's reign and such), and the reason why you would think "Oh, okay" would be seen soon.
this story will end around 150 chapters, so there's that.
Also, Aerion and Rhaenyra haven't even heard of Luke's death.]
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