Pre-Chapter A/N: So here we are back on our regular upload schedule. Sunday and Tuesday/Wednesday. I've put systems in place to ensure we don't fall behind again so yay. I look forward to stress-testing them as the madnesses of life stack up (We're two weeks in now and life is really hitting. We're still on schedule though(more or less– does this count as Wednesday or Thursday? I haven't slept so I count it as Wednesday), so things look good!). To celebrate the scale of our achievement, we've got a cheeky little discount for the whole month (code: MAY01) on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga). Next four chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
XXXXXX- AEGON TARGARYEN
"Not a word about any of what happened when we get out," he told the dragon that had now begun walking by his side. It had taken him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that he could have just asked the dragon to lead him out of the dragonpit. So long, in fact, that by the time he left, the sunlight that had been streaming into the top level of the dragonpit had petered out and the growling of his stomach had gotten so loud that Sunfyre could hear it now. The dragon had looked over at him with what he felt was concern a few times already, but Aegon was fine. He really was. He had felt hungry earlier, but walking had taken it out of him, and the blood that had been coming from his head had stopped flowing as well for some reason.
He was quite well, all things considered. A sentiment that died the second he stepped out into the surface level and heard her voice. It was Mother. And she was screaming at someone.
Her voice cut out and there was a hush that spread through the gathered group. Aegon could see four white cloaks, his Mother herself, and the head of the dragonkeepers stood there. And none of them was speaking.
"Aegon," his mother screamed, ignoring Sunfyre's presence by his side entirely and rushing towards him. Sunfyre had reacted violently to any attempt by the smaller dragons to get a piece of Aegon, and he worried that he would do the same to his mother. But he seemed not to even notice her as she grabbed him, holding his head like it was the most precious of treasures while trying to crush the rest of his body with hers.
"The boy is here," another voice spoke.
----
"So what happened?" The voice that spoke was not his mother's. She was right next to him, holding his hand while the Maester bandaged his head. No, the voice had come from the edge of the room. Barely past the doorway, his father stood. King Viserys, the First of his name.
"This is not the time, Viserys," his mother said.
"No. The boy is clearly well enough to speak, and he is awake now. I will hear how he found himself in the dragonpit's caverns despite my orders for the boys not to be taken past the top level," he said, and Aegon could already tell he was angry. It was not like he saw his father often. He was the King, after all. So when Aegon did see him, it was usually when he had reason to be there to discipline him. That meant Aegon was very familiar with his father's rage. Some would call him an expert in it.
"Answer the question, Aegon," his father said, attention returning to him. He looked at his mother, and she nodded slowly, signalling that he should answer the question.
Aegon had two options open to him now. He could either tell the truth, or he could lie.
"We were just playing. We wanted to play a bit in the caverns. We weren't going to go all that far, but we got lost and accidentally—"
"Lying to your King is stupid, Aegon," his father said, and he did not look even remotely close to pleased.
"I'm not lying, I swear." First rule of lying. When caught, double down.
"And now you are lying and swearing on a falsehood. Do you want to keep going? Add more crimes to your little collection of misdeeds?" he asked, voice harsh. It did not rise, but the clipped quality of it showed his father's rage better than any screaming could.
"But I'm not. We really—" he started, only for his father's expression to kill his voice in his throat. The words were choked off, refusing to leave.
"Aemond has been with us for hours now. He told us what happened already," he said.
"Aemond? He's alive?" he asked, shocked, and that was the wrong question to ask.
"You thought your brother was dead? And you were going to use it to sell us a lie about what led there? Oh, you foolish, foolish boy. Oh, how foolish I have been to not realise just what it is I have been raising all these years," he said. You did not raise me, Aegon wanted to scream back. His mother's look of disappointment smothered the embers of his rage before they could grow into an actual flame.
"Viserys—" Mother began but was cut off.
"No. No. This boy is a fool, and if we leave him to continue, he will become a foolish man," he said.
"Aegon, you will see to it that your things are packed. In a sennight, you will depart on a ship headed for Bloodstone."
"Viserys—"
"No. My mind will not be changed here. I would have much preferred Aemond for my cousin's own peace of mind, but you need a strong hand, and if Laenor Velaryon can not put some wisdom in that head of yours, then you will be beyond redemption," he said.
"Viserys, the tourney. What about the tourney?" The words spilled out of Mother's mouth.
"After what he has done? What business has he in a tourney? He will be out of here in a sennight. No longer," he said finally, and then he turned and left. Aegon was reeling. He was being fostered? At Bloodstone? He was going to go to the Stepstones? With the pirates and the Velaryons?
"Mother? He'll change his mind, won't he? Or you'll make him?" he asked. She looked at the door for a few seconds before turning to look at Aegon.
"Do not fret, my son. You will be going nowhere," she said. He nodded.
She was right. Mother was always right. She was going to do something about it.
XXXXX— LAENOR VELARYON
I read the letter for the fifth time in half as many hours before pinching my nose and sighing.
"Most people would be ecstatic to be hosting the King's eldest son, you know? To be trusted by the King with the duty of raising one of his children is no small feat," Bernard said, and I sighed again. It was a boon, I knew. And that was the bad part: there was no way to refuse it. No excuse I could give. I could not even say that I had been promised Aemond and so wanted nothing to do with Aegon. Aegon was higher up in the line of succession. It was a great privilege to foster Aemond. Fostering Aegon was being given the crown jewel.
And I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
"You know why I don't want it," I said with another sigh.
"You know what is coming. We can not afford to be dragged into it," I said.
"I know what you think is coming," he corrected absently.
"You haven't been able to disprove my prediction. You can see how inevitable it is just like I can. If Viserys does not resolve the succession question in Aegon's favour—and we both know that he will not—then war is inevitable. A war that the gods seem determined to drag us into," I said with a sigh. Because this felt like I was being fucked with. There had to be some power working behind the scenes, because what were the chances that this would happen?
"It will not be inevitable if Aegon makes no claim to the throne," Bernard said.
"Which man can see a throne and turn it down?" I asked. He just gave me a look.
"You have refused to work towards claiming it for yourself despite the fact that your wealth and naval might would give you a good chance. All you need to do is raise another you," he said.
"Even if Aegon loudly proclaimed his lack of desire to all who would listen, Otto would put that crown on his head regardless. Would he be able to stand by as his brothers and cousins marched off to war for his crown? Would he be able to stop Otto from doing it? I doubt it. Rhaenyra herself will know her reign can never be secure while Aegon lives. He will have children, and those children will have a better claim by Westerosi tradition than Rhaenyra's. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. It will be stupid of her to think that none of Aegon's descendants will pose a threat. For her crown to be secure, he must die whether he claims the throne or not. And for his life to be safe, he must claim the throne whether he wants it or not. Nothing I do can change that," I sighed. And I had begun to think the dance could pass by without me even caring.
"Then you could just raise the boy and when the time comes, you leave him to die in his war. Knighting him does not make you his father," Bernard said, and I realised he was right. I had this idealised view of what it meant to be someone's Knight, but that was not what I had been given with Borros. It was not what most people got. Who said I had to go above and beyond? Who said I had to care? I would do the bare minimum. When the boy reached his majority, I would Knight him and send him on his way. He would be someone else's problem then.
"I could just do that indeed, Bernard. You are right, my friend. There is no need to stress myself. Not every Knight bothers to train the Squires sent to them. Even fewer do when you only consider Squires sent to Great Lords for their training," I said with a sigh of relief. Shirking your knightly duties was nothing new to the Westerosi. Perhaps there was a part of me that would not be comfortable giving this mission anything less than my all, but I doubted that would be the case. Everything I knew about Aegon from canon told me that the boy would be a chore to be around, and pawning the little shit off to someone else was not so bad a thing.
"We will need to prepare to host royalty within the Island for a long period, however," he said, and I took that to mean that he was referring to the other project I was working on. The one that would not likely fly all that well with the Small Council when they eventually did find out about it. Part of me was tempted to warn Viserys about it ahead of time to ensure that he would be on my side when the issue became a thing, but a good part of my eventual argument would be insisting that everything I did was within my rights as a Great Lord—an argument that would be substantially harder to make if I went asking for permission first and then had that permission denied.
In that case, moving ahead would be an act of wilful disobedience, and if that became the situation, I would be able to look forward to being more or less fully cut off from the Westerosi market and perhaps even preparing myself for an eventual war. I doubted it would go so far, but one did not disobey a King—even one as lenient as Viserys—without consequences of the severe variety.
'What is the boy going to do? Send a letter to his father by seagull?' I was tempted to ask before I realised what Bernard really meant. Aegon was not the problem. It would be those who came with him, and they would be able to place our mission in jeopardy.
"You are right. Make arrangements to move the first cohort directly to Torturer's Deep instead. No point hosting them in Bloodstone and having to sneak around our eventual guests," I said instead.
"As you wish, my Lord," Bernard confirmed with a nod.
XXXXXX— TYLAND LANNISTER
His goodsister was not the best at hiding her emotions, he noted with an internal shudder that he was sure he hid better than the rage that she now wore on her sleeves and face for all the world to see. Thankfully, the world in this situation consisted entirely of he and his brother. Well, them and baby Baelon, but he was unlikely to remember any of this. Thankfully.
"He can not be doing this to me. He just can not. If he does not want me to be Queen, why not just go ahead and name Aegon his heir and get it over with? Why all the dillydallying?" she snarled, arms jostling the already fussing baby in her grip in a way that made Tyland want to reach out and free his little nephew from her grasp.
But considering how she had bitten the head off the last servant to suggest that they could take the baby for some time, it was probably best for him to wish Baelon the best from a distance. He was a Lannister man—baby or not—and Lannister men were strong. He would just have to bear being flung about and wrung for dear life due to his mother's rage for a while.
"He would never do that. He would never dare," Jason said, seated facing the balcony while nursing his sixth glass of Dornish Red. He himself was far from pissed. He had his own reason for joy now, but bringing it up to Rhaenyra in her present mood would achieve nothing. Because while she focused on the news of the 'punishment' being doled out to her younger brother, she seemed to care little for how the punishment had been earned. Aegon had claimed a dragon. A dragon over a decade Syrax' younger. A dragon that would not present much of a threat if Baelon was able to claim Silverwing as Jason so clearly intended. Aemond had claimed Caraxes and was now a threat, but that itself was not disastrous. A few more nephews would ensure they had more and larger dragons on their side. The numbers would work in their favour eventually. Aegon and Aemond being out of the running made it a given.
"Is that not what he has already done? I know what a Knight and Squire relationship means. The whole realm saw Borros Baratheon follow House Velaryon to war for his squire. When the time comes, if Aegon pushes a claim, Velaryon will be there by his side. Those ships, those dragons, that gold. All of that in Hightower's hands would be a disaster," she said. Tyland almost scoffed. Three years ago, and she refused to hear any suggestion that her half brothers would not just capitulate and bow as she took the throne, and now here she was strategising like war was inevitable.
"Laenor might not have any love lost for you, but he and I do have a positive relationship at least, and I can tell you for free that he has no interest in involving himself in any conflict for the Iron Throne."
"Either he deceives you or he deceives himself. Perhaps both. No man can look at that throne and not want it. The Seven Kingdoms are our ancestor's legacy. Our birthright. I remember the Great Council. How he spoke despite the fact that he was so young. Just slightly older than me and addressing full grown lords to plead his case. That was how much he wanted the throne back then. And you think now that time has passed? He will take the chance to wed a daughter of his to Aegon and secure his blood on the throne," she said, and Tyland did not want to point out just how crazed she looked and sounded.
Jason had admitted that there was something that made his wife very unreasonable when House Velaryon was concerned. It seemed like all reason and logic just went out the table when that name was mentioned. She was already coming up with theories of what Laenor would do with a daughter that did not even exist as of yet.
"You know, if what you fear is Laenor marrying a daughter to Aegon, we could just as easily offer Baelon's hand. Baelon will be King one day, and since Laenor has no children yet, Baelon will be closer to any possible daughters of his in age," Jason said, and Tyland knew he was playing along with her paranoia here so she could do something that he wanted. He could not imagine how Jason felt now that his own fate was tied to the Targaryen cause so closely.
It meant threats to House Targaryen were now threats to House Lannister. And there was no greater threat than House Velaryon now. It was not about Laenor Velaryon and whatever ambition he held though. The reason Jason wanted their houses tied back together with blood was because of those dragons. House Velaryon's dragons needed to be brought back onside. Two houses with dragons did not make for a predominant royal house like he would have preferred.
"Never. His blood will never sit on my throne," she hissed. Tyland sighed and walked over to the bottle. His patience was wearing thin here.
"Then Aegon might as well have him for an ally if you care so little for what threat he poses," Jason said with a shrug, seemingly uncaring. But Tyland knew better. He knew his brother like he knew his own mind. Jason would see his will done. Either Rhaenyra would board the ship or be left at the port. It would be up to her.
"They can have themselves. We will win. No matter what. The throne is rightfully mine," she said. Tyland went back for a second glass mere seconds after emptying the first. This was going to be a long afternoon.
A/N: Three POVs in one chapter. How fun. I'm trying to have a fixed amount of POV characters to avoid just jumping heads willy nilly. I know Tyland and Aegon will be two of them. As for the rest, I find myself open to suggestion. Next four chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early. Discount available with the code MAY01– have fun.