Chapter 2: The Sun Speared
The sun was falling as Aegon and his retinue made their way back up the Conqueror's high hill, which lanced up into the brilliantly colored sky. Clouds of red tore through sheets of blue in a beautiful display of the heavens. Aegon might have enjoyed it, had it not reminded him of the events of the day. A salty breeze blew in from the sea, cooling the air much to everyone's relief. Far off towards the horizon, storm clouds were beginning to roll over Blackwater Bay. Though conversations had sprung up following the end of the oppressive heat, Aegon couldn't keep his mind from the events of the day. Cafferen and Grandison had been so full of life, but now they were dead. Their misery, their anger, ended so easily. One quick swing of the axe and they were so suddenly stilled. The blood pouring onto the stage, so very red.
'I wish I hadn't seen it.' Aegon didn't think he could ever forget. He would dream of it that night. Viserys had claimed it was a necessary lesson. 'Well, he can be confident in a lesson learned.'
Aegon had been so lost in thought he hadn't paid attention to what Viserys had been saying.
"You shouldn't spend so much time with them." Aegon caught the end of his uncle's thought.
"Who?" Aegon grasped at the distraction.
"Can you not hear?" Viserys growled. "The traitor's son and the bastard. Their company is unfit for a King."
"Robb and Jon?" Aegon questioned, troubled by his uncle's statement. "Robb is my friend and Jon is my own brother!" He protested.
"The Stark boy will turn on us one day, just as his father did. Rhaegar should never have pardoned him. All the death and destruction caused by the Starks, and what came of it?" Viserys ranted bitterly. "We lost my father, we lost Rhaegar, and what did we get in return? A ruined castle in a swamp." With that cowing Aegon, Viserys took a moment to collect himself before continuing on. "You'd spend your time better with your sister, or Dany, or any number of young nobles." Viserys added tersely. "A traitor's son is like to follow in their father's footsteps, just as with Cafferen and Grandison. And bastards are tainted, they are a treacherous sort. Blood will always tell."
"Blood will tell?" Aegon echoed, unsure. "But they have always treated me well. And my mother has always been welcoming of them."
"Your mother allows herself to be taken advantage of, she is a woman." Viserys declared matter-of-factly, before adding more tersely "Robb is here to keep his father in line. He has no choice but to remain on his best behavior. And that bastard? Who knows what ambitions may sprout from him? Daemon Blackfyre and his ilk were a plague on our family. No doubt Jon will grow to harbor the same ambitions, if the boy doesn't already. That Jon has Stark blood as well makes him doubly dangerous."
Aegon didn't know what to say to that. Had Robb been feigning friendship? He had always seemed genuine. But Jon was a bastard, and Viserys' words were piercing. Aegon grasped for a way to refute his uncle. The litter reached the top of the hill and soon entered the Red Keep.
"Surely not every bastard will go bad." Aegon began hesitantly. "Jon could remain true, just like- "The young king skipped a beat. Like who? "Bloodraven?"
"The old Hand likely killed the first Aerys." Viserys dismissed Aegon's choice as they neared Maegor's Holdfast and its moat of iron thorns. "And more than a few others in line for the throne. It's said he practiced dark magics, though he was like to practice more mundane evils. There's a reason he was sent to the Wall."
There had to be someone. Aegon furrowed his brow and wracked his brain. Seeking some example, he was unwilling to admit that evil lurked in the soul of his kin. There must be one- then he had it! 'The Dance!' Aegon seized the thought. "Addam Velaryon, the dragon rider!" Aegon relaxed. "You can't claim he wasn't a loyal man."
"The Dance of Dragons was-" Viserys began, an argument on his tongue before giving in to his nephew. Though still unwilling to concede his point, he added "But that's one good man among a hundred. Daemon, Aegor, Hugh and Ulf, Bloodraven, Gaemon and Trystane. You can nev-"
A scream rang out. Shouts erupted across the King's escort. "By the Seven." Someone gasped.
"Get the King inside!" Barristan shouted.
"With me!" Ser Oswell Whent barked. "Shield his Grace from view!"
Viserys scrambled out of the litter to see what was the matter. Aegon was about to follow when Ser Arthur rode up and slammed the palanquin's door shut, nearly trampling over Viserys in the process. "Go!" Arthur yelled. His steed soon blocked Aegon's view, but not before the young king saw a most grisly sight. There, in the moat, not far from the very bridge Aegon was being carried across was a woman impaled upon the spikes.
Aegon was rushed inside, through the gatehouse at the opposite end of the moat. They passed the fat knight, as he ran to bridge. His aunt Daenerys, though she was younger than he, ran out of the keep with her attendants as Aegon's guard set down the palanquin. The young princess called out as Aegon exited. "What happened, what's all the fuss about?"
"Someone fell into the moat." Aegon said shakily, eyes wide. Though it was out of view, Aegon could not help but see the grisly image in vivid detail. The red stone of the courtyard could only remind him of more blood.
Oswell Whent cursed beside him. "Hoped you hadn't seen that." He muttered. "Come along inside, quickly now, the both of you."
Following the shouts, more people streamed out of the keep as Aegon and his aunt were ushered into the royal apartments.
"Watch over the children, I'll head back and find out what happened." Ser Barristan gave a short look to Oswell Whent before leaving.
Soon enough they were joined Jon and Robb and Rhaenys. Jon and Robb kept peppering Oswell with questions. "What happened? Why are we here? Can we practice swords?"
"Settle down, I don't know what's happened." Ser Oswell said with an exasperated look. "Someone fell into the moat. Barristan and the others are trying to figure out what happened."
"Are they okay?" Rhaenys chimed in.
"Can we go see?" Added Robb.
"No, no!" Ser Oswell raised his voice, growing frustrated before grasping on a way to distract them. "Look, how about I tell you a story."
"Tell us about the war." Aegon jumped in with a shaky voice, seizing on the moment. "Tell us about my father, and Lyanna. Tell us the beginning."
Jon perked up at the mention of his mother. Most in the castle refused to talk about her, the other woman. Jon's mother, whom died giving birth to him.
The white knight looked uncertain for a moment, but relented. "I suppose you know the story of the tourney at Harrenhal? You've heard the songs." The children nodded as Oswell pulled out a chair. "The story goes, my brother Walter, may he rest in peace, hosted the tournament in honor of his daughter. What the stories don't say, is that it was sponsored by Rhaegar. He wanted to get the lords together, to convince them to force King Aerys to abdicate."
Aegon interrupted. "Why would he do that? My grandfather was-."
"Not as good a man as we try to portray him nowadays; he wasn't the man he used to be." Oswell continued. "You heard Grandison earlier today, they came to call him the Mad King for a reason. The burnings he ordered, the cruelties he committed even against his own wife, the massacre he carried out in imitation of the Lord Lannister, it was becoming too much for the realm to bear. Anyway, I'll leave Barristan and Pycelle to teaching you of Aerys' reign."
"And the tourney?" Jon egged on.
"That's where they met, Rhaegar and Lyanna." Oswell continued solemnly, shifting in his seat. "Most would tell you that Rhaegar won Lyanna with a song or that the lady's beauty caught his eye, but it was more than that." Oswell gave a soft smile. "There was a knight at that tourney, they wouldn't show their face, even despite the King's demands. Aerys had thought it was Ser Jaime, who'd been made kingsguard at the start of the celebrations but was ordered to attend Rhaella and the young Prince Viserys. Rhaegar and Aerys' knights were all made to unmask the mystery knight. The story goes, nothing but the knight's shield could be found, but Rhaegar found the knight. Unmasked, the knight of the Laughing Tree was none other than Lyanna Stark."
"She played the part of a knight?" Jon asked, a measure of awe in his voice.
"A pretty good one too." Oswell continued. "She challenged three knights; a Frey, a Blount, and a Haigh if I recollect correctly. Defeated each in turn and, rather than demand a ransom, she made the knights teach their squires honor. The squires had accosted one of the Stark's bannermen early in the celebrations, and Lyanna couldn't let that be."
"And my father?" Rhaenys urged. "Did they…"
"They relationship hadn't yet become what it would." Oswell picked up as Rhaenys trailed off. "But Rhaegar couldn't let such a noble deed go unrewarded. He had the brilliant idea of crowning her Queen of Love and Beauty, bestowing the tournament's honors upon her in full view of everyone, but with none the wiser." Oswell gave a laugh at that. "Made a number of people furious though. Though the events of the tourney did grant something of a mutual respect and admiration between the two."
"But they hadn't fallen in love?" Jon asked, caught in the story he'd wanted to learn for so long.
"They wrote to each other frequently; their relationship grew from this. Lyanna was trapped in a betrothal to Lord Robert Baratheon, and had a great many misgivings. That Rhaegar was-, in a similarly arranged marriage, gave them something to bond over." Oswell shifted uncomfortably at the topic of Rhaegar's marriage, perhaps mirroring Aegon's own unhappiness at the unfaithfulness towards his mother. "But their relationship was forged in a dangerous fire."
"You mean the war?" Rhaenys suggested.
"I mean Aerys was never one to let go of a perceived enemy." Oswell corrected. "The King had already named the mystery knight traitor, and the signs were there to make the connection to the Starks. The Weirwood on her shield, the knights she challenged whose squires had accosted a Northman, that same Northman then joining the Starks through the festivities. If Rhaegar could determine her identity, so to could another. When King Aerys learned-."
A knock on the door interrupted them.
Ser Barristan strode into the room with a grim look upon his face.
"Who was it? How did it happen?" Ser Oswell cast a glance towards the children, before lowering his voice. "Perhaps the children shouldn't…" He trailed off.
"They would learn soon enough, I'm sure." Barristan began. "And the Hand has made it clear, he does not want the children blind to the wickedness of the world." His voice came out tersely at that, it seemed he had more to say but was keeping it to himself.
"So?" Oswell urged him on, putting to word what Aegon could not.
"One of Elia's handmaidens, Lady Leyla Hightower." Barristan began with sadness in his old eyes. "From those we've questioned, it would appear that she had become most distressed following an affair with Ser Triston of Tally Hill. She was promised to Ser Jon Cupps, you see. It appears she jumped."
Oswell sucked in a breath. Daenerys came forward, a puzzled look on her face. "Why would she do that?"
"It is difficult, to lose a love." Oswell answered. "Even more so if others shame you for that love." Turning to Barristan with a question. "Anyone there when it happened? Anyone try and stop her?"
"No one, unfortunately." Barristan added. "Most everyone had taken shelter from the days heat inside. Jaime covered the bridge this morning, but once we were gone, his guard was unnecessary. And, of course, Parmen was charged with looking after Princess Rhaenys."
"Perhaps we should get these children their food, and hasten them off to bed?" Oswell urged more than questioned Barristan.
"I thought to sup with my mother tonight." Aegon said offhandedly, still trying to understand this most horrifying event.
Barristan opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when the door burst open, Ser Gerold Hightower strode into the room. The White Bull's gaze settled upon Aegon and Rhaenys. His normally fierce gaze carried a crack, a glimmer perhaps, of sadness.
"Lord Commander, I'm sorry for your loss." Ser Oswell started; sadness etched his face. "Leyla-"
"Bring the children quickly." Gerold cut him off. "Lady Elia's condition has worsened. The Grandmaester fears she might not last the night."
"No." Was all Aegon remembered saying.
"Surely there must be something you can do?" Aegon stamped his foot, all but shouting.
Aegon and his brother and sister had been moved to the royal bedchamber, where Elia Martell lay, suffering in her most recent illness. The room was hot, and the smell of sickness hung heavy in the air.
"A-apologies your grace, there is nothing more that can be done." Grand Maester Pycelle creaked out as his eyes fell away from his patient. The wrinkles of his ancient face seemed to deepen in his anxiousness. "The fever burned right through her-and with her health already so poor she... She s-should be given sweetsleep, to ease her suffering. It's time you made your peace."
With that the old maester turned to concoct the potion, his robes swaying behind him. Though only a few rays of light from the dying sun filtered into the room the roaring light of the room's hearth shone brightly on his velvet robe which appeared the deepest red as if fresh blood flowed from his ermine collar. There had been too much death this day.
Aegon stared at his back, bewildered. "No! You have to help her!" Aegon looked to Barristan, to Hightower, Jordayne and Whent. But there, he could find only sympathy.
Rhaenys gave a sob; she had been attempting to hold in her tears and the dam had finally burst. Her young brother Jon grabbed her hand to comfort her, though he was too young to fully understand he knew well enough.
"Pycelle some water, please... my throat is so dry." A weak voice, ragged and hoarse, called forth from the bed. Silken sheets drenched in sweat clung to the frail form of the Princess of Dorne, Queen Dowager and Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Elia Martell. Aegon's own mother, on her deathbed.
The old maester produced a glass and with unsteady hands filled it from a flagon. "Ser Arthur, would you assist Elia, help her up so that she may drink." The old man called to the silent sentry at the door.
In strode one of the white cloaks standing vigil at the door, the shining silver steel armor of the Kingsguard gleamed in the flickering light of the hearth. Upon reaching the bedside the knight removed his helm revealing Arthur Dayne's silver-gold locks and violet eyes. He bent to raise her up, placing a pillow at her back so that she may sit comfortably.
"I'm sorry." He apologized, regret marring his features. "My lady, if there was anything more I could do, I would."
"You have... already done enough." Elia spoke her breathing slow and irregular.
"Egg. . . Rhae come here." Elia Martell whispered out upon sating her thirst.
Elia's two young children swiftly moved to the bed, Rhaenys grabbed her mother's hand while she tried to dry her tears.
"Momma, please-you're not gonna die. You can't die! I won't allow it." Aegon declared his voice shaking.
"We need you. You're all we have, with you gone then- "Rhaenys stopped herself, choking up. "Who will take care of us?"
"You will need to look out for one another… even your brother Jon." Elia whispered the last with a sad smile. "The Kingsguard will keep you safe, promise me you will look after each other."
"We will." Aegon promised, sniffling.
"There is so much I wanted to teach you, of our people, of your family. So much of your lives I wanted to see." Tears shined in Elia's eyes. "Those future days are ones I will never see. Aegon... please, make your peace with Viserys. I know you two have your troubles. House Targaryen must stand together to survive, for divided it will fall. Your future will not be an easy one."
"I will." Aegon promised once more, though this time unsure of himself. He could no longer meet Elia's gaze.
Elia's gaze flickered away a moment before she beckoned Aegon closer. "Trust not the Lion, the Lord Lannister has only ever had his own interests at heart. The Tyrells as well, you must be wary of them." She whispered into the boy's ear before laying back, clutching at her stomach over sweat drenched sheets. Another pain from the awful sickness that plagued her.
"Now then, bring me the elixir Grand Maester... I've had enough of this pain." Elia stated, massaging her temples.
She looked upon her children with grief marring her face. "Know that I love you all dearly, dry your tears, I'm going to the Mother now. The Seven shall care for me."
"Mother..." Rhaenys sobbed out, tears streaming down her face.
"I am so sorry, my lady... Forgive me." Pycelle brought forth the draught and Elia drank deep.
"...Momma" Aegon's voice cracked.
"Goodbye, my children. Worry not, I'm off to see your father. . . I love you."
And with her final breath before the sleep took her.
"Rhaegar-"
The sun set on the dragon's keep, and the world was cold.
Cue gif of Rita Repulsa – "After 10,000 years [one year] I'm free! It's time to conquer Earth [write fanfiction]!
Sorry for the slow update on the story. I was caught up in my internship, writing papers, and a couple other projects. Hopefully now that I've got a bit more free time I can make some real progress.
Thanks for the reviews for the first chapter, it means a lot and is always cool to so what everyone's thoughts are. Fair criticism or just a couple words expressing enjoyment are all welcome.
A couple of the reviews for chp. 1 asked about why Jon was named Jon, I did that to make things a little easier for everyone reading through this (to make things a little easier for myself especially). I already have an idea for an in-story reason for Jon's name. For some of the other questions, like where's Rhaella or Lyanna, my point of divergence (Rhaegar winning at the Trident) doesn't particularly affect their fates. And don't worry, I wont leave you hanging on a plot point as significant as the dastardly Tywin being made Hand.
I thought to keep this chapter a bit shorter than the first, cut out some of the extraneous scenes/descriptions. Tell me what you think about that in the reviews, do you like the flow of my longer first chapter or this quicker chapter? Most of chp. 2 was originally meant to be in chp. 1, but I figured that would have made for a bit too much reading at once. That also lent towards keeping the chapter shorter. Since I'd planned to end chp. 1 on Elia's passing, I didn't have much else to write as I was wrapping things up.
Not sure I'm totally happy with how Oswell's story fits in the chapter, but I wanted to give him a little part rather than have him sitting around while Aegon mopes about all the death he's seeing lately. I've been wondering about the events leading up to the Rebellion since I started reading A Game of Thrones and felt it might be fun to delve into that a bit since I've got one of the central figures to that storyline available.
And now that the show is well and truly done, any thoughts on it now that your tempers may have cooled? There are moments I enjoyed from the final season, but there was a lot detracting from my enjoyment as well and I'm holding something of a grudge. The shows hijinks are a big part of me losing motivation to continue on this story in the first place. Been feeling like the show's quality kind of went downhill after season 4, and a lot of Season 8 didn't do much to change how I felt. Beyond that, any hopes for the books going forward? I've been reading through A Clash of Kings lately and I've just been feeling really sad for Sansa, that scene where she's wishing death on the Slynt kid for what his father did really hit home for me.
I hope you are all safe from Covid-19. Keep maintaining social distancing, wash those hands for 20+ secs, and so on.