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91.93% The Necromancer King (A Game Of Thrones) / Chapter 114: Bold Move

Chương 114: Bold Move

After Aerion revealed the truth to Aegon, he accepted Dorne's terms and the new Prince of Dorne swore fealty beneath the Iron Throne. Prisoners of war, including Orys Baratheon, were released on both sides. The Seven Kingdoms seemed to be rather unified well over a century earlier than originally.

...

"What is life without a peach from the Reach?~" A topless Aerion leisurely walked inside of the Aegonfort's court with a large basket of peaches in his arms. "One each, a rich peach for all. Just reach for it."

"Can you not stroll around topless?" Jocelyn asked, shaking her head. "You know how the ladies around here get."

"Better than blowing holes in all my tops each time I want to fly. It makes me feel the breeze better, too," Aerion shrugged, grabbing a peach and throwing it on her direction. "Go on, I know you like them."

"... Well... let's see. Ah, these ones are the good ones."

"I told you I know my peaches."

"Did you fly deep into the Reach just to grab some peaches?" Visenya inquired.

"No, not truly. My true intent was to simply fly. You see, riding a dragon into the skies is one thing... but flying yourself? It is a whole different type of thrill."

"You have far too much free time on your hands." Visenya remarked.

"Don't be like that... don't you want one too?"

"... I suppose I'll have one."

"I'll have... five!" Rhaenys hopped forward and snagged five peaches from Aerion's basket. "So kind of you to bring all of these delights to the court."

"By all the gods, leave some for everyone else." Aerion chuckled, turning to Aegon. "Some for the King, most of all. The fruits of his many labours!"

"Sure." Aegon nodded, taking one for himself. He gave it a taste and was caught off-guard by it's flavour. "Where'd you find these peaches?"

"Around Highgarden... why?"

"They're really good."

"Ah... the special recipe is, in truth, my magic." Aerion proudly declared. "I used water magic to make each of the peaches a great deal more succulent, you could say."

"Succulent. Succulent!" Rhae nodded, enthusiastically flying around.

"A use of your magic as good as any." Aegon japed.

"Indeed." Aerion nodded, turning to the entrance. "Ah, here he comes."

"... Orys?"

Orys Baratheon entered the hall with an entourage, his right hand clearly missing. Upon the sight of the wound, Aegon frowned deeply with a spark of anger that was waiting to ignite.

"Who did that to you?"

"Lord Wyl... Lord Wyl of Wyl." Orys Baratheon replied with a resentful tone. "They agreed to release us on House Martell's order but took my sword hand out of spite. That cunt... I want him dead, with both his hands removed."

"You will have your wish." Aegon promised. "I will...-"

Aerion released a wave of light magic, healing Orys Baratheon's hand and restoring the flesh that was once lost after a long minute. Everyone at court watched in shock and amusement.

"There. As good as new." Aerion smiled, his eyes glowing. "Enjoy some peaches while I'm away, Lord Orys. I have a fool to catch."

He dropped the basket and strolled out of the hall.

...

Aerion descended upon House Wyl's settlement and cut a swathe through the garrison, eventually grabbing hold of Lord Wyl. Aerion then took Wyl on such an elegant and 'smooth' flight that the man's breeches were filled with his own piss long before he was brought before the Iron Throne. Then, naturally, Orys had his vengeance and the matter was resolved.

To say that Aerion was popular at court was quite an understatement. While the ladies adored him, the men admired his accomplishments, ability and sheer charisma. The matter of Aegon's heir only grew more urgent... and, given that he had no children, Aerion's name in the conversation was the most prominent.

~

While Rhaenys and Aegon had gone over to the Reach for a royal progress, Visenya Targaryen remained and took sole responsibility for day-to-day governing responsibilities. She was more than effective, perhaps even the most capable amongst her siblings. While not as popular as the cheerful Rhaenys, Visenya kept King's Landing in check far better with her stern, unforgiving, nature.

In the sole presence of Visenya, the court would've grown dull if it weren't for Aerion and Jocelyn lighting it up.

...

"What would you want to talk about in private, exactly?"

Jocelyn wondered, looking at Visenya Targaryen who stood facing her in one of the Aegonfort's smaller halls. There was a jar between them on the elaborately decorated table, which Visenya grabbed and filled two goblets with wine.

"Nothing much." Visenya put down one goblet next to Jocelyn before sitting down herself. "Drink to your heart's content."

"I'm afraid that my appetite isn't quite so great as Aerion's." Jocelyn chuckled, grabbing the goblet and having a sip. "Isn't this the rich taste of Dornish red?"

"It is." Visenya nodded, smiling slightly. "Aerion made sure that every Targaryen had their fill. He was quite adamant about it... do you happen to know why he is so closely associated with Dorne?"

"... Well, I wouldn't say it's obvious to the eye but he was raised in Dorne."

"And which part of Dorne was that?" Visenya inquired.

"He didn't tell you yet?"

"That is why I'm asking you."

"... I see." Jocelyn nodded. "You think that I'd be more inclined to tell you than he would be."

"Was I mistaken?"

"If he wants to keep it a secret for now, I'll keep it too," Jocelyn replied with a smile. "Sorry... nothing personal. You'll have to get it out of him."

"Then I will. Now, there is something else I'd like to ask. Mayhaps you'd be more willing to speak on this matter than the last..."

"Depends on what it is."

"Once, he said that he had five wives. Six now, I suppose... is that true?"

"When did he say he had five wives?"

"In the Vale during the conquest," Visenya replied, taking a sip from her goblet.

"How sweet, he counted me as his wife even then..." Jocelyn chuckled. "There are five of us, that much is true."

"How did that arrangement come to be, might I ask?"

"He grew up with his first lady from a young age and they shared their first time together. From then on, he was defiantly loyal to her... even across the sea, when he had been tempted so many times, he did not dishonour her. They weren't even married then."

"Go on."

"Then, before they did marry, Aerion convinced her to share a bed and from then on he found his second wife. Later, he bound himself to three others he loved... which included me. If I were honest, we all get along relatively well. I can't say too much, though... since I was the youngest out of the group. I wasn't exactly a 'competitor' back then, so to speak."

"So where are they, these other four?" Visenya inquired. "I'd like to meet them if possible."

"Why...?"

"Curiosity."

"Well, if Aerion could, he would be with them. It's just that... they're a little too far away at the moment."

"How could that be if he was raised in Dorne?" Visenya raised an eyebrow.

"Can't say."

"How troublesome... I will ask him myself."

...

"Visenya... she reminds me of my uncle. Earlier, she essentially interrogated me with her scary glare. She is far prettier, though, I'll admit," Jocelyn remarked, chuckling.

"As if anything about Stannis says handsome!" Aerion laughed. "The man grinds his teeth more than Robert brandishes his warhammer."

"You know him." Jocelyn chuckled.

"Ah, my Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. While he gets the job done, he could learn something from his brothers." Aerion remarked. "Renly is quite handsome but useless in everything except being somewhat charismatic, Stannis lacks that same charisma while Robert... well, he is a good mixture of warmonger, whoremonger and winemonger. A man who seeks his pleasure and his pleasure alone."

"He has changed," Jocelyn replied. "He doesn't do two of those three things anymore... well, partly because you took them away from him."

"I could understand why he no longer finds pleasure in those acts. When I was undead... I couldn't either." Aerion looked upon the Iron Throne, slowly stepping forward.

"You know what I find amusing? Wherever I go, my accomplishments are glorified and my flaws are mitigated to the point that they may as well have never existed. My grandsire still holds the infamous title of 'the Mad King' while I have committed atrocities several times worse than whatever he could have dreamed of. What do I get for it? Aerion the God amongst Men. Aerion the Unyielding. Aerion the Radiant... "

"... But you were never cruel to your own people." Jocelyn countered. "If anything, the Seven Kingdoms have only prospered since you took the Iron Throne. Even the Known World as a whole... there's not a single war under the Emperor's peace."

"That is the justification." Aerion nodded, turning back to Jocelyn. "It is the 'truth' that will be known to every child and their children thereafter. But... if there comes a day when you can no longer justify my actions. If something drives me to madness..."

"Nothing will, you fool."

Jocelyn stepped forward and slapped him across the face.

"Ow... that was uncalled for."

"No, it was not."

Aerion chuckled, the bruise vanishing almost as soon as it came. "What if I am mad but everyone convinces themselves otherwise? A lie that has become the truth...-"

"Don't make me do it again."

"I am only jesting." Aerion smiled. "Anyway... don't you want to sit on it?"

"Visenya would flay me alive." Jocelyn japed.

"Or... have you ever imagined yourself on it?" Aerion wondered.

"If I'd ever have imagined me being so high in this hall, it would have been on your lap."

"Oh... now that is quite a dangerous way to do it."

"You dare to?"

"... If you don't get cut to death..."

Suddenly, the doors to the great hall were pushed open, revealing Visenya Targaryen with a small entourage of knights. She looked upon Aerion and Jocelyn, frowning slightly as she walked forward.

"What are you up to now?"

"... Just admiring this beauty of a throne," Aerion replied with a smile. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No matter. Come with me, lord admiral. There are matters I'd like to discuss with you and you alone."

"Oh, some alone time?" Jocelyn raised an eyebrow. "How intriguing..."

"Small council matters." Visenya added, turning away from Jocelyn and walking past Aerion. "I took you for a man with quick feet."

"... Duty is calling me," Aerion remarked, kissing Jocelyn on the forehead. "While I'm away..."

"I have plenty of things to do," Jocelyn reassured him. "Go accompany Visenya."

"Alrighty."

~

"Wouldn't small council matters be shared with the rest of the council?" Aerion asked, looking around the hall. "Can't say a meeting was ever hosted in this hall, either."

"You like to drink your Dornish wine, don't you? Well, I had prepared some for you right here."

"Three jars?" Aerion raised an eyebrow. "I might have a large appetite but I'm no elephant. Are you... trying to get me drunk?"

"Don't be presumptuous."

"Alright, then." Aerion shrugged and relaxed on his chair. "Why do you always look so serious? While you offer me wine, it all looks to me like you're a captor who wants answers from a prisoner. You have to be more... smooth with it. The wine is a good start but your face should be relaxed."

"I didn't bring you here for answers." Visenya sat down right beside him. "This isn't the first time you've drank with me, is it? Perhaps you're the one who should loosen up."

"... You do have a point." Aerion nodded. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Your magic, for one?"

"You want to learn a few tricks?"

"Mayhaps... if you'd teach them."

"I've tried before." Aerion sighed. "It's a gift that some have and others don't. Sometimes that gift never truly blossoms, either... it needs a proper trigger."

"And yours was?"

"... One of fury." Aerion replied, taking his goblet and filling it with the jar. He took a sip and faced Visenya, finding the scent of the wine awfully sweet but ignoring the fact. "It has been so long... but I still remember that day vividly."

"You don't need to share it if you don't want to."

".... He dashed my baby brother's head against a wall. I was too powerless and scared to do anything except throw my little body at him as he pummeled my mother... and then, it happened. My body exploded with flame and I scorched him alive. Even worse... I was too late for my sister who had been stabbed so many times she was unrecognisable. Those lowly butchers... burning was too quick a death for them."

"But... one day, I will have them both returned to me. No matter what it takes." Aerion took a deep breath, calming his thoughts as he finished his first goblet of wine. "Well... that should answer your question. Now, it's your turn. How was it growing up on Dragonstone?"

"We were a happy family... as you know, I was the eldest. Then my brother came into this world and so did Rhaenys. Although lordship would go to my brother, I studied to be a capable rule in my own right. So did my sister in her own way. While she preferred adventure and being the centre of attention, I trained at arms with Aegon."

"And you beat him more than he would've liked, so you've told me..." Aerion chuckled.

"Well, he began to mature and overtook me eventually. As was tradition, I would marry him as the eldest sister... but he took Rhaenys along in the ceremony and we all married on the same day."

"... And how did that bedding ceremony go, exactly?" Aerion chuckled.

"I did not partake until the next day... Aegon did not mind, he preferred it that way."

"Oh... a shame." Aerion stroked his chin. "Can't say I've never married two women at once... but if I had, they would most certainly be in the same bed as me. It would be quite a slight to leave a bride cold for her only wedding night."

"And you'd be able to take two in one night?"

"Of course. Jocelyn alone counts as three or even four women, I dare say." Aerion jested, filling his cup once again. "Well, not every man can boast the same stamina as me so there's that."

"... Why don't you show me?"

"I'm sorry... what?" Aerion raised an eyebrow.

"Aegon did not choose me... nor did I choose him." Visenya's violet eyes looked into Aerion's, displaying a look of warmth while her hand touched his thigh; the gentlest of promises. "But you... I want to keep you close."

He started to feel the sweetness of his wine spark a flame.

"I..."


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