The flames within the Temple of the Lord of Light inside the city of Volantis burned brightly. Even in the darkness, the flames endured as they cast a protective radiance over anyone who stood near their presence.
The red priestess known as Melisandre basked in the presence of the flames as she stood inside one of the main towers of the red temple. Inside the tower, the main flames of R'hllor always burned with intensity, kept alive by her fellow red priests.
Her long robes were scarlet satin in color, which complimented her long red hair well. Her red eyes stared deeply into the resplendent flames which welcomed her presence, all of which were kept in iron braziers. She knew that if she wanted to she could just reach out and pluck some of the flames into her fingers and make them dance on her skin. She had done so on occasion during previous visits, when she felt that she needed to feel closer to her god.
Melisandre did not do that this time. Her mind was already preoccupied with thoughts about the future, about her mission. She already had all the reassurances that she needed from R'hllor. She just wanted to bask in this passion one last time.
Unfortunately, not everyone in the temple felt as she did.
"Still preoccupied with your thoughts?"
Another red priestess approached her, emerging from one of the corners of the room. Melisandre had already sensed the woman's presence a while ago but chose not to comment on it, more preoccupied with her thoughts to bother with a conversation.
It seemed as if the woman had chosen to approach her instead.
Melisandre knew who she was. They had met many times, after all. Kinvara was her name. The red priestess wore similar robes to Melisandre's. Her hair was darker than Melisandre's, which she kept neat and braided. Even her red-gold choker was of similar design as it clung tightly to her neck.
Melisandre made no effort to respond as she kept her eyes fixed on the flames burning before her.
Kinvara did not seem bothered by her silence as she came to stand beside her, her hands folded neatly before her.
"I suspect there will be another long discussion tonight. The two sides have yet to reach a compromise that seems acceptable to all."
"And why are you not there?" Melisandre did not look away from the fire.
Kinvara smiled softly. "My presence will hardly make a difference, don't you think?" Her eyes strayed toward the flames. "I was more curious about your timing. Just as you paid us a visit, a new sign befalls us."
Melisandre almost laughed. "You overestimate me. I was just as surprised as you."
"We gathered here once. Do you remember?"
Melisandre did. It was fifteen years ago. Every single red priest in Essos felt the sudden shift in the world. They all saw the red star as it bled across the sky. They all sensed the revival of a power once thought lost, of fire made flesh again.
Of dragons.
It took Melisandre less than a day for her to gather answers from her fires in Asshai. She saw many visions, many paths. She could not understand them all, not right away. Before she could process these visions, the summons came from Volantis. There was to be a gathering about what to make of this strange but wonderful development.
Two factions had quickly formed in the midst of these discussions. One side believed that the red star signified the rebirth of Azor Ahai. They wholeheartedly believed that the promised time was upon them.
The other side disagreed, arguing that not every sign had been fulfilled. Worse still, they argued, that R'hllor had not given them any clear guidance. The flames showed them the dragon along with the prince that awoke it. But the flames did not show them Azor Ahai.
In the end, the two sides had been stuck. Ultimately, they chose the easy way, and thus it was decided that they would wait and see. There was not enough information for them to act. Even Melisandre herself had been lost within her visions. She tried desperately to understand what it was that R'hllor wanted from her.
It took fifteen years for there to be another sign, only this one was even more difficult for them to grasp. For the fire inside this Targaryen prince had grown stronger, but the fire had also changed. It was no longer just pure flames which dominated his soul. No, there was something else now. Something strange. Something that should not belong.
In the the midst of this new development, Melisandre finally found the answer that she was seeking. She finally understood what it was that R'hllor was trying to convey to them all. It just so happened that she had been visiting Volantis when all of this occurred.
Kinvara was studying her.
"You have an answer, do you not?"
Melisandre did not look at her. "I spoke to the High Priest. He took my words into consideration, but ultimately his stance has not changed. He preaches caution."
Melisandre did not have a high opinion of the man. Now, when the world was starting to mature and begin down its path to the dawn of a new age, he was still trying to maintain the status quo. Unless all the red priests stood as one, he would not change his mind. He was more interested in trying to keep a peace that did not exist.
It sickened her.
"Hmm. Yes." Kinvara hummed. It was almost a bewitching sound. Melisandre was certain that many men and women had succumbed to Kinvara's beauty in the past.
Melisandre was not one of them.
"I heard what you said to him." She started smiling again. "A most bold claim, I admit. To say that you know more than the High Priest himself takes a certain amount of courage."
Empty words. While there was a firmly established hierarchy within the red temples spread across Essos, many of the red priests were fairly independent with their actions. After all, R'hllor favored them all.
Melisandre was not going to entertain Kinvara's joke.
"I suppose you will be heading west then." Kinvara's tone made it clear that she already knew what Melisandre's response was going to be.
"This….Aenys Targaryen must have a guiding hand," Melisandre said softly. "He is not our lord's chosen. In time, you will see the truth as I have. However, his birth heralds the starting of the path. While he will not see the end, he will be its beginning." A delicate smile began to form on her heart-shaped face. "How many can claim such a legacy I wonder?"
There were many who thought they held importance in this world. In reality, most of them were just blind and ignorant to their true place in the order of things.
Melisandre did not know what Aenys Targaryen thought of himself. Did he think he was the main hero of the story? For what was to come, Melisandre was more than happy to let the Targaryen think what he will. Anything to make sure that he did not stop. After all, while he was not the main hero, he was important for the future.
"His dragon is but merely one piece of the puzzle," she added. "The dragon will be a light against the darkness, but there will be more. There needs to be more. He cannot be allowed to stop. Or else, we risk everything."
"Then the one who is promised-"
"I have no doubt. Azor Ahai will come from his line. When that will be, I cannot be certain. But I know that much."
Melisandre's voice lacked any doubt. She was certain of her conviction. The flames had shown her the path.
Kinvara did not answer right away. She merely studied the flames just as Melisandre was.
"If what you claim is true, then we have no use for these pointless arguments." Kinvara finally turned away from Melisandre and the flames. "I cannot say that I have seen what you see, Melisandre. R'hllor's true will still eludes me. However, while some are happy to sit on their hands and wait, I am not one of them. We lose nothing by standing with this young prince. If nothing else, we can perhaps gain a stronger influence with these…ignorant Westerosi. They have been led astray by false gods for too long. Despite his age, Aenys Targaryen seems to hold significant sway for the future of the land."
This time, Melisandre finally tore her eyes away from the flames to look at Kinvara with surprise. Melisandre did not claim to know much about Westerosi law. She knew of the Iron Throne, but beyond that she had always held the land with indifference. This had not changed over the past fifteen years as she had dedicated her time to understand the significance of her visions rather than worry over the politics of a distant realm.
Despite facing away from her, Kinvara said, "You need not look so surprised. I have done my best to study the laws and politics of the west. While petty and insignificant, I have held a strong belief that our final battle will perhaps be fought on the continent."
Melisandre did not know how to respond to that.
"The Iron Throne seems to be on the verge of civil war." Kinvara turned to face Melisandre again, her features soft and understanding. "I suspect you might face more obstacles than you were anticipating when you head there."
"Then-"
"Yes. I will offer whatever support I can for your journey west." Kinvara smiled again. "Let us see if what you say is true. It should prove to be an interesting century, should it not?"
Melisandre agreed. The last one had been of some interest, but this one was already showing itself to be of greater importance.
Her gaze shifted west, to where Aenys Targaryen and his dragon were.
She would ensure that they followed the right path. This was to be her role in the tale to come.
---
Danelle did not accompany Aenys and Shiera back to King's Landing.
Aenys did not know the full extent of Shiera's interest in the woman, but he understood enough to not question her decision to extend an invitation to her in the future. Danelle had her own value apart from being a pretty face.
'The world is a bigger place than I thought,' Aenys mused within the safety of his mind. He felt at peace as he flew on the back of Vaeraxes with Shiera sitting behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. She was not clinging to him because she was afraid. Shiera had long since become accustomed to flying on dragonback. Apart from maybe Aelora, she was the one whom Aenys most often took with him during his flights. No, the reason for her closeness was because she said it made her feel comfortable.
Aenys was not going to complain.
It was not going to take them too long to reach King's Landing. Once they arrived, Aenys knew that the peace he was experiencing right now would be lost to him. Not just because he left the Vale without warning and then hid himself in the Riverlands for weeks, but also because of his so-called disrespect toward the Arryns and now the Lothstons.
'I wonder if my duel against her bastard brother will make that witch less hesitant to join us.'
It was not something Aenys had thought of during the duel. Not that it would have made a difference.
Aenys did not regret his actions. He felt no remorse. Zero. Nothing.
He could not help it. He had been naive to think that the fact that he was a dragonrider would be enough to make people watch their tongue around him and his family. Surely the thought of being burned to a crisp was enough of a deterrent, right?
Instead, Aenys found a fool who was more than happy to wag his tongue at every opportunity. The fact that a mere bastard of a weak house like the Lothstons still felt emboldened enough to disrespect Aenys while residing in the same castle, as if there would be no consequences….well, it made him confront reality. He saw with his own eyes just how much prestige the royal family had lost since the death of the last dragon if some bastard thought he could behave as he pleased.
No one feared the house of the dragon anymore. Not truly. And why should they? Their so-called "dragon blood" was worthless without dragons. If it were not for Vaeraxes, Aenys knew that he would just be another prince.
All of this vexed Aenys, for it was a truth that could not be changed.
Honestly, it just was a sorry state of affairs, one that Aenys had been ignorant to. Or perhaps just willfully naive?
After all, up until now, Aenys had been coasting through his life, not particularly invested in anything in particular. His biggest ambitions had been to improve his skills as a knight and his dragonriding and then to one day claim Dark Sister for himself. Beyond that, he had been thinking of flying to the east and leaving Westeros behind lest his mere presence brought destruction and death upon his family.
And yet, as he headed back to the capital, Aenys realized that his passivity could not persist. Not now when he had decided to stay. For better or for worse, he was going to make something of himself in Westeros. He knew that he was not the type of person to just sit back and do nothing when so many things around him irritated him.
There were so many things that he wanted to correct. So much work to be done. New ideas danced inside his mind.
He had never spoken up about the issues that often plagued his mind, as the affairs of the realm were not going to be his to meddle with. He had been of the opinion that it was better to let his uncle Baelor and Valarr lose their sleep over ruling, not him After all, he was set to inherit nothing.
'Can't really think that way anymore, can I?'
His new pact came with new responsibilities. This meant that Aenys was now going to be forced to stomach Valarr for the foreseeable future.
The mere thought of dealing with Valarr made Aenys annoyed. His cousin had become more bearable over the years, true, but that was just on the surface. His cousin's constant jealousy was something that Aenys could do without. Even though he could try to rationalize Valarr's earlier mistakes as the actions of a mere child, a part of Aenys could never bring himself to fully move past it, not when he could tell that Valarr still held him in contempt.
Valarr was just better at hiding it now.
It was all made worse when Aenys compared Valarr's attitude to the rest of his family. Aerion and Daeron had never behaved like that, and their position was worse than Valarr's. They were the sons of a fourth son, far removed from the throne, destined to inherit very little. Then there was also sweet Matarys who never showed the same contempt and jealousy as his brother. If they could all love Aenys like brothers, then why hadn't Valarr?
Or perhaps he was just vengeful, Aenys realized. It was a petty grudge all things considered. He could just ignore it, but he did not. He could try to rationalize it in so many different ways, but his feelings were not moved in the slightest.
It made him feel like he was still just a boy, which was embarrassing, as he was criticizing Valarr for the same thing, but what could he do?
Best not to dwell on it.
'Hmm. Well, even if she decides to stay, it won't make much of a difference,' Aenys thought, thinking back to Danelle in an attempt to move past his petty thoughts toward Valarr.
His embarrassment aside, it was true that it would not be much of a loss if Danelle decided to hold a grudge against Aenys for what he had done. While Aenys was curious to know about the extent of her abilities, he doubted she possessed more knowledge and skill than Brynden. Thanks to the time he spent with the Green Men and the subsequent training they put him through, Aenys now realized just how skilled Brynden was when compared to the average skinchanger. It put a lot of things into perspective for Aenys, especially his ignorance.
Besides, if Aenys had a say in the matter, then the Lothstons would not be lord for too much longer.
While at Harrenhal, Aenys had had a lot of time to think about what he was going to do moving forward. As mentioned earlier, there were many things in the realm that personally irked him whenever he thought about them. The one that came to mind first was King's Landing itself. The city was meant to represent the house of the dragon, and yet it was nothing but filth built among more filth.
'It's been over two centuries. Rather than fighting over a throne, perhaps my predecessors should have been more preoccupied with expanding on what came before.'
The Old King Jaehaerys had done much, but after him it was as if no one else bothered to try. Aenys held the most animosity toward King Viserys I in this regard. His ancestor had inherited a stable realm with many dragons under his command. Rather than doing something with this momentum, he had squandered it all in pointless lavish feasts and tourneys. While both activities had their place, they were not more important than expanding the city or ensuring that the realm continued to be stable.
Harrenhal was the second that came to mind. The castle had potential. Not to mention that the fertile lands that it rested on. The Lothstons were unable to utilize their own holding to its full potential, and it was a shame.
Having thought all that, Aenys admitted that perhaps he was no better than those who came before. After all, he had been thinking of flying away rather than staying and doing something about all of it.
Wasn't he also squandering his own opportunities?
Hmm. Perhaps he was his own worst critic.
"Your thoughts betray you, my love."
Despite the winds bombarding his senses, Aenys still heard Shiera's whisper. Probably because she was leaning over his shoulder as she talked next to his ear.
"You do not seem like a man who just won a duel."
Aenys almost snorted at this. "Am I supposed to feel proud about winning against the bastard?"
Jon Rivers was by no means a meek knight. He possessed a solid foundation with both a strong build and a functional set of skills. But that was it. He was no true prodigy. Aenys was more interested in facing off against the likes of Ser Gwayne or Ser Alyn of the Kingsguard.
There were two others who also came to mind, both uncles of his: Daemon and Aegor. Jon Rivers' build was almost like that of a meek woman when compared to Aegor, which almost made Aenys chuckle.
No, he was probably just being biased. Jon was definitely more wide than his uncle who was still lean despite his sturdy frame.
Aenys just really did not like Jon. The only reason the bastard was still alive was because Aenys wanted to avoid the lecture he would undoubtedly get from his grandfather if he killed the man when he was already going to get a bunch of them.
There was no need to subject himself to further punishment if he could help it. Besides, death was so quick. Too easy. The bastard's shame would be his punishment, along with the loss of his hand. No doubt word of the duel would spread in time. More than that, without the hand, the bastard would never be a proper knight again, not unless he retrained himself all over again. Few had such commitment.
Hmm. Maybe he was sadistic.
Shiera seemed amused by his response. "Did he trouble you so much? You know I hold no interest in another."
"It's the principle."
"And what principle is that?"
"To not disrespect me or you."
It was a simple and straightforward principle. Aenys liked it very much.
Shiera laughed. "Mhmm. Such a temper."
"You do not seem to mind."
He recalled how much she enjoyed his temper when in bed together.
"Why would I?"
Okay. Fair enough.
Shiera planted a kiss on his cheek before a comfortable silence settled over them.
It was a beautiful day all things considered. It was neither too hot nor too sunny, but it was not cloudy either. Aenys enjoyed the fresh air for as long as he could, but it did not take long before the clear skies were behind him as King's Landing came into view. Despite being high in the air, Aenys swore that he could still smell the stench from the city as they began their approach.
Maybe it was just a subconscious reaction at this point. Had the stench of the capital traumatized him?
Aenys did not complain. At least, not too much. Despite the torment that he was about to subject himself to, he was still happy to return to his family.
Vaeraxes' roar seemed to echo with Aenys' thoughts as the she-dragon began to circle the Red Keep. No doubt even before she announced her presence, the smallfolk below would have already spotted her.
Aenys directed Vaeraxes toward the ruins of the Dragonpit. The sight of the structure caused Aenys' eyes to narrow in contemplation.
It had been more than a decade since Vaeraxes' birth, and yet his grandfather had made no attempt to rebuild the Dragonpit. It was something else that always bothered Aenys but never commented on. To him, the lack of interest in the Dragonpit mirrored his grandfather's lack of genuine affection toward him. An irrational conclusion perhaps, but Aenys was certain that if it was Valarr who had hatched Vaeraxes than his grandfather would have quickly set out to rebuild the Dragonpit. He knew the crown could afford it. The realm was still stable and in many cases thriving, especially with their new friendship with Tyrosh thanks to their marriage with the Blackfyres.
Aenys' thoughts did not dwell further on the topic as Vaeraxes landed in front of the ruined Dragonpit. Nearby, there was already a carriage waiting for them. There was also a familiar face standing next to the carriage.
Ser Alyn Connington, the Pale Griffin. He was the knight that was expected to become the next Lord Commander of the Kingsguard if the rumors were to be believed. Aenys knew that his grandfather and uncle held the knight in high regard, both in skill and in character. So it was probably true.
"It seems my raven arrived," Shiera murmured.
It was a good thing. Better than walking all the way to the Red Keep.
The famous Kingsguard did not flinch even as Vaeraxes landed on the ground, causing a ripple on the ground to reverberate through the area. The knight had become accustomed to the dragon over the years, so he was not overly anxious when in her presence anymore.
"Ser Alyn," Aenys called out to the knight as he dismounted from Vaeraxes. "How fortuitous it is to see you. I suppose that means that my grandfather is already expecting my presence."
Ser Alyn approached him with caution in his step, his red hair swaying in the breeze. The knight might be used to a dragon's presence, but he also knew that Vaeraxes did not have much patience for anyone who was not Aenys. He did not want to be roasted alive in his shiny armor.
"Prince Aenys. I'm glad to see you well." His eyes drifted to Shiera as Aenys helped her descend from Vaeraxes' back. "Lady Shiera. The same for you."
Shiera merely smiled at the knight.
Ser Alyn's attention did not remain on her for long as he looked back at Aenys. "My prince. His Grace has summoned you to the small council chamber as soon as you are able."
By that, the knight meant "as soon as possible." As in, right now.
"And His Grace sent you to make sure that I did not run away."
Ser Alyn did not give a verbal response, but his small smile was enough of an answer.
Aenys almost smiled in return. "His Grace thinks too little of me if he thinks that I would run away."
Ser Alyn did not answer.
Aenys glanced back at Vaeraxes. There was no verbal command. Catching his gaze, the she-dragon understood what Aenys wanted from her.
With something that oddly sounded like a snort, Vaeraxes turned away from them and started heading inside the Dragonpit. Whenever she was in the city, the ruins of the Dragonpit were her home. Vaeraxes did not much care for it, but she would make do. She always did.
"If my grandfather does not mind the stench of dragon assailing his senses, then lead away, Ser Alyn," Aenys said as Shiera linked arms with him.
"Fortunate for me that our dear king has only summoned you and not I," Shiera said as they began to follow Ser Alyn to the carriage. "I do hope we did not keep you waiting for too long, dear knight. I hate to imagine someone of your skill being reduced to a mere messenger for my sake."
"It was no trouble, Lady Shiera." The knight was not shaken by her teasing. He merely offered a simple response.
Shiera almost pouted at this. "You are always so serious, Ser."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"It was not a compliment, Ser."
"I thank you all the same, my lady."
Aenys was more than happy to just watch the exchange. Shiera made a habit of trying to get under people's skins if she could help it. The Kingsguard were her ongoing project. Them, and Maekar. Unfortunately for her, they were not willing to go along with her jokes and always gave her simple answers. In Maekar's case, he often just ignored her.
A serious man he was, that uncle of his.
No doubt Maekar was going to be there for this meeting. Aenys only wondered if his father had returned from Dragonstone yet.
Probably not. His father had seemed to come to enjoy the tranquility of the island over all the noise of the Red Keep. In many ways, Aenys agreed with his father's mentality. Dragonstone was much better than King's Landing.
Aenys put his father out of his mind for now he boarded the carriage after allowing Shiera to climb in first.
For now, he was going to have to answer to his grandfather.
Aenys was already thinking of the ways that he was going to lie to the king of the Seven Kingdoms.
If he did not lose his temper that is.
---
The Red Keep was filled with fervor. The Tower of the Hand in particular was seeing a lot of movement as servants scurried about to carry out their duties in preparation for what was undoubtedly going to be the grandest tourney in King Daeron II's reign.
Baelor almost pitied the poor Hand. He was working hard without knowing that he was going to be replaced soon.
It was long overdue really. Baelor did not have a good opinion of the Lord of Whitewalls. He was a decent administrator all things considered, but his character left much to be desired. Unfortunately, there had been no scandal for Baelor to use in order to remove the man from his position as Hand of the King. It was one of the rare times where Baelor was tempted to use his position in order to get rid of someone.
His father thought differently. Lord Butterwell was one of the few of non-Dornish descent in his council. Removing the lord without cause might trigger the king's critics to use that against him. Fortunately, as he aged, his father began to worry less about them and more about preparing Baelor for his rule after his death.
Assuming the position of Hand would do wonders in that regard.
Baelor would rather not think about his father's death, but it was not something that he would turn a blind eye to either, especially not when his mother was already at death's door.
No one knew what the next few years would bring. It was possible that the peace that they were enjoying would soon come crumbling down.
'My thoughts are always filled with dread lately,' Baelor realized. He found some bitter irony in it all. He was the crown prince. A Targaryen. The blood of the dragon. Many would kill to be in his position. And yet, he found no happiness in it. Just dread.
The familiar sound of a dragon's roar echoing over the castle helped to remind Baelor why he was so anxious in the first place.
'Aenys has returned.'
So Shiera's letter was true, after all. Not that it would do anything to calm his father's ire. The man was already on edge by Aenys' actions in the Eyrie. His tryst with Shiera in the Riverlands only made his father all the more angry.
'He is in denial.'
Baelor's initial reaction to Aenys and Shiera's affair had faded, giving way to a calm acceptance of their new relationship. This came about after talking it over with Rhaegal and Maekar. Their words made Baelor understand that there was something serious there.
His father went in the opposite direction, thinking that Maekar's account had to be wrong, that there was no way that Aenys and Shiera were romantically involved. That it had to be a mere dalliance. That there was no way that Aenys and Shiera loved one another. He happily turned a blind eye to the fact that poor Aelinor had sequestered herself in the royal sept since her return from the Vale. The woman was often heard murmuring about "vile harlots" and "evil seductresses" as she knelt before the altar of the Seven.
Thankfully, his father had not acted rashly, for he wanted to hear the truth from Aenys' own mouth before he made any decision.
The Blackfyres were still in the castle too. It would not be long before Daemon realized what was happening, especially with Aerion eager to share the news. Maekar had gone through great lengths to make sure that the boy did not say more than what was necessary. Baelor did not know how successful his youngest brother had been in this endeavor.
In short, they had the perfect mix for a storm unless they could somehow reign it in.
It was going to be a grand time, wasn't it?
Baelor tried to remain optimistic as he walked into the small council chamber. His father was already seated inside. He was wearing the gaudy crown of Aegon IV as he tapped his finger impatiently on the table.
Maekar was also seated at the table, eyes closed and arms crossed.
"Am I to assume that Rhaegel will not be joining us?" Baelor asked lightly as he announced his presence.
Daeron briefly looked at him, unable to fully mask the anger that had been simmering for the last couple of weeks.
"Rhaegel is at the godswood with the others."
At least his younger brother was enjoying having the whole family together. Only Aerys was missing. His last letter made mention of sailing back to the Red Keep in a couple of moons once the tourney was set to begin. No doubt his brother wanted to avoid returning to the castle for as long as he could.
Once again Baelor had to marvel at the fact that Aenys was Aerys' son. The two were nothing alike. It was probably the gods' idea of a prank.
"And Aenys? How do we know that he will come here rather than heading to his chamber?"
"I sent for Ser Alyn to fetch him. At least my sister was honest about their return."
True enough. Baelor had wondered whether Aenys and Shiera were going to remain at Harrenhal longer than the letter suggested.
Baelor only hoped that Aenys did not run into either Aerion or any of Daemon's daughters, or they were going to be waiting here for a while. And his father no longer had any patience left in his bones.
The thought of Daemon's daughters almost made Baelor want to audibly sigh. Valarr thought himself clever, but his interest in Calla Blackfyre was plain for him to see. On the surface, it did not seem like a bad match. If it were up to Baelor, he would have even proposed the match to Daemon himself. Unfortunately, Baelor was conscious enough about the state of the realm to know that Daemon would never agree to a betrothal that would tie their lines together. Baelor knew that his father would not force the issue either.
'House Rowan will be here soon.'
The last thing Baelor wanted was for Valarr to inadvertently insult Lord Rowan by showing more interest in another lady rather than his daughter. A lot was riding in this hypothetical betrothal now that many of the other houses had already rejected them.
It was a sobering thought. Even the idea of becoming queen of the Seven Kingdoms was not enough of an attractive offer when a dragon was on the board.
Baelor tried to ignore the fact that the rejections were born from the thought that he and his line were not going to sit on the throne. He did not want to think about a civil war. He was rather happy with how mundane peace was. He would die a happy man if he never personally saw war.
If only the gods were more merciful.
His thoughts were put on hold as there were sudden knocks on the door.
His father sat up straight at this while Maekar's eyes finally snapped open.
Aenys was finally here.
Even though it had not been long since he last saw his nephew, Baelor felt as though it had been years as Aenys walked into the chamber after his father bid him to enter.
Aenys wore his dragonriding gear with Dark Sister secured at his side. Baelor already knew that Brynden had freely given the sword to Aenys, but seeing it for himself was something else.
A Valyrian steel sword and a dragon. It made for an inspiring image to be sure, especially with Aenys' Valyrian looks. In some dark corners of the realm, and even in the Red Keep, some wondered whether Aenys was actually the son of Daemon and not of Aerys. No one took the rumors seriously, as they were made more in jest, but it was not hard to understand why some would think that. Aenys and Daemon were cut from the same cloth. Despite King Aenys' weak reputation as king, this Aenys was proving that his name did not define him.
'Aerys was right on that account.'
Baelor did not dwell on this as he took in Aenys' eyes. His nephew was relaxed as he stood before them. He did not look bothered even as his father's hardened gaze settled on him. Even as an uncomfortable silence settled over them, Aenys did not flinch. But his eyes were different. Something in them had changed. Baelor did not know what it was, but there was something different. His nephew smelled more than just of dragon right now.
And it troubled him.
"Aenys." Daeron finally broke the silence.
"Your Grace." Aenys' voice was relaxed. "Uncles. I have returned."
"Yes. You have." Daeron let another silence hang over them for a few moments as his eyes narrowed. He did not yell nor did he raise his voice, and yet his anger was plain for everyone to see. "Why were you at Harrenhal?"
His father was not bothering with any pretense. There were no warm greetings. No congratulations over the battle. None of that. His father just wanted to know what Aenys and Shiera had gotten up to at Harrenhal.
Baelor was curious himself. He did not understand of what interest the ruinous castle would have for either Aenys or Shiera. There was something he was missing here. A crucial detail that only a certain few were privy to, and he did not like it.
Aenys shrugged. "It was nothing serious, Your Grace. After achieving knighthood in the midst of battle, I decided to take a little stroll on my dragon. I have never seen the Riverlands before, so I was curious. It only seemed natural to take my betrothed with me."
Another round of silence settled over the chamber, only this time it was created by Aenys himself.
'Betrothed.' Baelor repeated the word in his mind as he tried to suppress a sigh. It seemed as if Aenys was not going to bother with pretense either.
"I was not under any impression that you were betrothed, nephew," Maekar spoke up, his voice full of sarcasm. "Your father sent no word of it. Would you mind enlightening us as to whom you will take to wife?"
It was brief, but a small smile did break out on Aenys' face. No doubt he was amused by Maekar's sarcasm. Not many could handle Maekar's personality, but Baelor knew that Aenys held much respect for Maekar. It would be a heartwarming sight if they were not in the middle of this troublesome conversation.
"Princess Shiera Seastar."
More silence.
This was starting to become a theme, wasn't it?
Baelor tried to speak up before his father's temper truly exploded, but unfortunately he was too late as Daeron slammed his fist on the table, looking ready to storm over to where Aenys stood and put his hands on him.
"What nonsense is this!?" His father yelled this time. "There was no arrangement for this!"
"And Shiera is no princess," Maekar added, his voice more calm.
Both Baelor and Maekar knew that Shiera was technically their aunt, but given their respective ages they could not see her as such. Not to mention that neither of them was particularly close to the woman.
Daeron ignored Maekar's interruption as he pointed at Aenys. "Do not get ahead of yourself, Aenys! I am still the head of House Targaryen! Any potential match has to be approved by me."
Aenys remained calm. It was almost as if he was regarding Daeron with a calm indifference.
"There is no reason for the great king to trouble himself over something so trivial. I am but a mere prince of the realm. I am not in line for the throne. Who I marry has no bearing on the affairs of the realm, does it? No one would bother to marry a son of a second prince, not when you already have three healthy heirs."
"Your jokes are not appreciated," Daeron snapped, not able to listen to Aenys' drivel any longer.
"I thought this whole situation was a joke, Your Grace," Aenys replied. "After all, I would not think that you would plan my future without my input. That would be very distasteful to my sensibilities."
"You are but a mere prince," Daeron retorted. "Is that not what you said? Of what use is your input?"
Aenys did not back down as he locked eyes with his grandfather. "Not much, I imagine. You have proven that over the years. I suppose hearing it for myself only confirms what I've already suspected."
Baelor realized that the conversation was already heading down a dangerous path and tried to intervene.
"Aenys-"
"You presume much, boy." Daeron finally stood from his chair, cutting Baelor off. "Do you think you are the first prince to marry without his approval? Even I had my own match prepared in advance. No one consulted me. Did I throw a tantrum like an unruly child? Did I seek to undermine the authority of the king? Of this house? No. I accepted it with grace."
"There are two mistakes in those words of yours, Your Grace."
Baelor began to rise. "Aenys-!"
"One. No match has been prepared for me, so there is nothing for me to accept with grace." Aenys raised one finger before raising a second. "And two." His eyes narrowed. "I am not you. I'm not going to roll over and play your games, grandfather. I may be just another prince, but you'll find me more unruly than any of my dear cousins in this matter."
"That's enough, Aenys!" Baelor could not sit still any longer. Unlike Maekar, who remained seated with his arms crossed, his expression calm, Baelor's face was more troubled. "We only mean to wonder what you intend with this affair."
"Affair?" Aenys repeated as he cocked his head. "I'm not sure I understand, uncle. There is no affair here. As I've said, this is a betrothal between Aenys Targaryen and Shiera Seastar. I will take her as my wife. I have her consent in this matter."
Baelor did not doubt that. By the gods, he did not. He was well aware how troublesome the woman could be. No one could really command her to do anything she did not want to do. She enjoyed certain privileges that no one else did. In some ways, she was more problematic than either Daemon or Aegor. If Aenys was this confident saying this, then there was little doubt. Shiera was ready to marry.
It left him baffled and troubled. Baelor did know how to respond.
His father did as he clenched his teeth. "No. You will not marry her."
Aenys looked at his grandfather. "Oh?"
"You do not have my approval. And no septon will grant it. I will make sure of it."
Aenys did not look worried. "It is a big realm, Your Grace."
The meaning was clear enough.
"It shall not happen!" Daeron shouted. "If you think that I-!"
"You're welcome to try and stop me, grandfather. Perhaps then you might understand what our house's words stand for."
Aenys did not wait to get a response. He immediately turned to the door and stepped out, not bothering to close the door behind him.
"Aenys! You have not been dismissed!" Daeron's shouts were useless.
Aenys did not return.
The Kingsguard standing outside looked conflicted as they glanced at one another, no doubt waiting for their king to give them a command to forcefully drag Aenys back.
But Daeron never did. The anger started to leave him as his age showed again. He fell back to his chair with a weary sigh, his hand draped over his face.
"What just happened?" His voice was soft and vulnerable.
The truth seemed to finally dawn on him, and it did not bring him any comfort.
Neither Baelor nor Maekar had an answer to give him. They both knew that their father had just snapped, a result of the weeks of silence from Aenys as well as his denial to accept their father's plans for him. He had tried to assert control, and he failed.
The reasons mattered little. The end result was the same, one that benefited none of them.
It left Baelor feeling more weak than when the conversation started, and he had already felt mentally drained before all of this.
It was not a small fracture anymore. It seemed as if a gap was growing between them and Aenys, and the increasing division was threatening to swallow them all.
One way or another, Baelor knew that he was going to have to put a stop to it. Not only for his sake, but for Valarr's as well.
The question was: how?