HOTD: The Rogue's Son-SI Ch.9 (Patreon)

Chapter 9

Many years ago, on the hills near Runestone, the ancient seat of House Royce a dragon sat curled up on top of the hill, as the sound of a gentle hard permeated all around, the mighty beast lay atop grass curled around an old woman, playing the hard with aged hands, as a babe rested in her lap, quiet unlike any other babe she had ever seen.

The dragon, calm and composed as it was, purred lovingly as the music came to a close. The older woman turned to the babe in her lap and gazed at her with a forlorn and pleading look.

“I am sorry...

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

Rhaenyra Targaryen walked through the Halls contemplating at the disaster that had been last night, the family dinner her father had arranged had gone nearly as bad as she had thought it could.

Daemon had always been relentless with his tongue, his crude language had won him little friends at court, and his thoughts on his Lady wife were known to all in the realm. He had cared little for decorum and dignity as he insulted her openly, and it had only ever been their prayer that such words did not make it to the Halls of Runestone, though from last night, it seemed that their prayers had been rebuffed.

Despite her mother’s various attempts the dinner had ended in a complicated mood, and now it was upto her to talk to Aegon and to apologize for Daemon’s words and actions, though she did worry whether he would accept such an apology or not.

And it was for that reason that she had scoured over half the castle after learning that her cousin had woken up only to find out that much like her friend Alicent Aegon was an early riser and had woken up hours ago, and was last seen going towards the yard.

She could hear the sound of metal clanking and men grunting as she neared the yard, the castle guards, often drilled in the morning, often joined by young knights and squires as they tried to impress the Ladies at Court with their martial prowess.

Rhaenyra rather enjoyed their trivial duels and efforts, unlike her friend who found it all too intense, and so she was quite surprised when she found that very friend standing along a column on the balcony overlooking the yard, quite engrossed in what was going on down below in the yard.

She was so lost in the fight that Alicent failed to register her presence as she skidded right behind her and tip-toed to see what had her friend so engrossed, and there it was.

The yard was filled with guards and young knights, yet all of them were on the sidelines, watching patiently as two of them circled each other in the center of the ring.

One of the faces was easily recognizable, it was Aegon clad in light armor, two short swords in hands, fighting against a man nearly twice his size, and one whose face she found awfully familiar, yet she could not remember his name.

“I thought you hated the yard,” she whispered into Alicent’s ear.

“AHHH!” and her friend shrieked as flailed wildly, as Rhaenyra jumped back and began to laugh as Alicent turned towards her.

“Rhaenyra!” she chided her, angrily as she tried to calm her breathing.

“Hahahaha, it has been quite some time since I have managed to play a little prank on you,” she said and Alicent smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I will have my revenge,” she said as she turned towards the fight once more as the two contestants exchanged a few blows, Aegon trying to avoid behemoth, that was Ser Harwin Strong, she remembered his name. He was Lord Lyonel’s eldest son and was a very feared knight known for his strength.

“Now, what brings my dear Alicent to the yard?” she asked conspirationally as she saw her flush.

“Nothing. You woke up too late, and I had nothing else to do,” she said, making an excuse and shaking her head.

“I can hardly believe that it is all so innocent, and why didn’t you go to the sept than as you usually do,” she challenged, and her friend shrugged.

“Who said I did not?” Alicent replied as her eyes reared back to the spar down below, where Aegon was dodging Ser Harwin’s attack, and the man was fast. Despite his size, Ser Harwin was quite fast, yet Aegon was faster, as Ser Harwin’s sword whizzed past him many times yet failed to hit him even once.

In the end, her friend’s face could hardly hide her worry and anxiety as she simply made to turn away.

“Come, let us go to the Maester for our lessons,” she said, and she stopped her.

“And miss such a beautiful spar,” she replied as she took her by the arm and made her stop. Then, immediately, the battle shifted, and instead of jumping back as he had done previously, he pushed forward.

“AH!” the men cheered as Ser Harwin was forced to bring forward his shield, blocking Aegon’s thrust, which slid off the shield and went an inch wide from his face.

Yet he was not done. As Ser Harwin tried to swing his sword, he interrupted his swing with his elbow, and she saw him hook his foot behind Ser Harwin’s foot as he threw his weight into him with a massive shout.

CLANK!

“ARGH!”

And she saw the giant knight’s stumble, ye he tried to steady himself but in vain.

BOOM!

And then they both fell to the ground as Aegon brought his sword on the man’s neck.

“Finally,” Alicent gasped, as the men began to cheer as Ser Harwin and Aegon untangled.

“Come,” she said and dragged her down the stairs as the men cheered, and Prince Aegon and Ser Harwin stood and hugged each other.

The guards and the men parted ways as they saw them. Many of them whispered and bowed as she made her way to Aegon.

“Congratulations, Aegon,” she called out and watched as he turned to face her. His clothes and face was covered in sweat and grime from the fight.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” he greeted.

“Just Rhaenyra,” she reminded him, before turning towards the son of the Master of Laws.

“It was a good bout, Ser Harwin,” and the giant of a man bowed.

“It was an honor, Princess. The Prince is a fine knight, especially for one so young,” he said as he slapped him on the shoulder.

Despite his size, Ser Harwin seemed to be a rather good sport. He was smiling and laughing as he praised Aegon.

“That is high praise coming from you, Ser Harwin, especially since I could win only one of our three bouts, and even that with much difficulty,” he said, and Ser Harwin shrugged.

“Few can even boast that, my Prince,” he said as he bowed to her and walked back as Aegon turned towards Alicent.

“So, my lady. I hope you did not find it all too boring,” he said, and she decided to cut in.

“Ohh, she was about to leave ha...”

“I did not,” she cut in before she could continue as they moved back up, and she glared at her.

“It was a beautiful spar, and you have my congratulations on your victory,” she said, and Aegon nodded.

“Well, a part of me thinks Ser Harwin simply decided to let me have it to save my face in front of you,” he said sheepishly.

“Because with his strength, he could have crushed me in his arms,” he added.

“I doubt that you were quite brilliant,” Alicent consoled him quickly, and she frowned.

“He said this was your third bout, how long were you in the yard for,” she asked, and Aegon seemed to think about it for a second.

“I do not know, perhaps an hour,” he guessed.

“Much more than that,” Alicent added and she narrowed her eyes, as her friend simply ignored it and she turned towards Daemon’s son once more.

“Will you be participating in the tourney?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I have not decided yet,” he replied.

“You should,” she added.

“Many a ladies at court would wish to bind their favor to your arm,” she said, and he nodded.

“That is as good a reason as any,” and she nodded.

They sat down on one of the benches near the balcony as the servants brought him water to drink and wash his face.

“About last night,” she began hesitantly. He had not brought it up nor treated her any differently than he had previously but still she had a duty. And as soon the words left her mouth she saw him stop as he turned towards her, his face neutral.

“I wanted to apologize on the Royal family’s behalf,” she said and he did not respond for a second.

“Well, Runestone has received no apology for the constant insults he dolls on his lady wife,” he said scathingly, and she could only look down.

“But Daemon is responsible for his own actions, and you do not need to apologize for him,” he added as he wiped off his face.

“What are your plans for the day, if I may ask?” she began, trying to change the topic.

“Nothing substantial. I was simply going to explore the city,” he replied, and she smiled.

“Then how about you join me on my way to the Dragonpit?” she offered. She saw him perk up at that and saw his morph through a set of emotions, and so she added another point.

“This way, perhaps you could have Alicent join me on Dragon back; after all, she seems to be in quite an adventurous mood today,” she said as her friend’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“Of course. Why not.”

And that one visit would change the fate of the realm.

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RHAENYS TARGARYEN

Rhaenys Targaryen was not fond of coming to the capital. Despite having grown up in the castle, it only ever brought up memories from the past, a past she had long put behind her.

Yet when word of the Queen’s pregnancy had reached High Tide, she knew she would have to visit, and with Corlys coming to the capital on Council business as well, she had decided it was as good a time as any to come to the Capital.

And then there was the additional benefit of being able to see the mysterious Prince none in the capital had seen to this day. Aegon Targaryen, Daemon’s son, was rather famous throughout the capital, especially for someone who had never visited the court in over twelve years despite being both a Prince himself and the son of the Prince. Something which could only ever happen by design, probably one of his mother and the equally mysterious Lady of the Vale or of his own. And the latter could not be ruled out, for Aegon Targaryen was not a normal young boy.

No, he was anything but.

“It is so good to see you, cousin Rhaenys,” Aemma added as he rested on the bed, her belly swollen once more, her frame thin and frail, and yet she was pregnant once more.

It made her pity her. She had suffered through much in the last decade just to do her duty, yet the stories seldom mentioned her struggles or role.

“Had I known that you were to come, I would have postponed yesterday's family meal. It would have been much better to have everyone present,” she said softly. She knew of the feast Viserys had thrown and also of what had happened there.

“I doubt Viserys would mind throwing another one. He needs little excuse to throw a feast,” she replied shortly, and Aemma chuckled.

“That he does,” and Viserys was indeed too fond of feasts and celebrations. He had gained a stone since the last time she had seen him and was now much different to the Prince who had ro...won the Council of 101 AC.

“So, where is the mysterious Prince?” she asked, and Aemma shrugged as she turned towards the servant.

“I sent you to get me Prince Aegon and Rhaenyra. Where are they?” she asked, her voice as soft and unassuming as a girl's, yet she knew she was anything but.

“My Lady, they had left for the dragon pit by the time you sent me. I have sent a rider to call them back, but...” Aemma’s eyes narrowed for a second before a smile appeared on her face, and that millisecond was all one needed to know of Aemma Arryn.

Dragon pit, she thought. That was bold of Viserys and dangerous. Much more dangerous, than her cousin had cared to think. It was a privilege that she herself had won through much cunning and deliberation, not just for herself but for her children as well.

If the unthinkable were to hap...but no, she doubted her cousin had done this without proper planning.

“That means they will not be returning anytime soon,” Aemma added with a chuckle.

“Rhaenyra only ever needs an excuse to go and ride on Syrax, especially when she can skip a lesson to do so,” and she smiled, reminded much of her own youth and her own indulgences and lessons. Lessons learned at the heel of her own father to one day inherit his throne, yet little good they would do her.

“No need. I am here for the night. We shall meet then,” she added, and Aemma smiled.

“That will be ok,” she said as she dismissed the servant, leaving them alone.

“So, I heard that Daemon has found a match in his son,” she began, and the Queen’s lips thinned as she shook her head.

“I would not say so. Aegon is much different than Daemon, much more polite and humble,” she added with a chuckle, knowing that humbleness was a word quite opposite to Daemon Targaryen.

“Much more soft-spoken and well-mannered than the rumors would make him out to be. Though it seems Daemon’s words about his wife found their way to the Vale as well, and I believe that is why he does not have a favorable view of him,” he added.

She doubted that was difficult. Daemon insulted his lady wife rather openly; all it would take was one mummer or merchant to carry those words from one shore to another.

“But I think Viserys once mentioned that Aegon wrote to you in the past for some reason,” Aemma asked, and she shook her head.

“No, he wrote to Corlys, asking about some issues of trade and extending the dock at Runestone,” and that had been a surprise. She believed it must have been two years since they received that missive. Otherwise, all of them had more or less forgotten about him until, one day, they had received that small missive.

It had been a simple affair, and Corlys had replied with what he could, yet this had caused him and House Velaryon to look into the mysterious and forgotten Prince, and what they had found out was rather intriguing.

The Vale was a prosperous land, rich in many ways, but its wealth and potential were marred by the tumultuous terrain of the mountains and the curse of the mountain clansmen.

Yet Aegon Targaryen had changed much of that; Vale’s farms were producing more produce than any other in the region, the mountain clansmen were being pushed back through a lengthy but very successful campaign, and that was just the beginning. Runestone had changed much, establishing new ports and routes that challenged the dominance of Gull Town.

And there was one person behind all of it. The young, mysterious Prince.

“Anyhow, how far along are you now?” she asked, motioning towards her swollen belly.

“It is due a moon and a half away from today,” Aemma replied.

“Hopefully, this will be a son. I have failed in my duty to the realm and to Viserys so many times now. I just pray that the Gods take mercy on me this time,” she said and it was a cruel fate indeed, a retribution perhaps, but Aemma had done little wrong and deserved none of what she had suffered.

Though the Gods were cruel and cared little for what one wished.

“So, what brings Lord Corlys to the capital?” Aemma asked, and she leaned back.

“Three of our ships were attacked and drowned in the Stepstones a few days ago. The crew and the valuables, all lost to the man named Crab Feeder. Corlys is here to ask the Crown to respond and wage war in the Stepstones,” and though there was much more to it.

The crab feeder was a problem indeed, but war in Stepstones was an ambition of Corlys’s, those islands controlled the most important trade routes of the known world, and House Velaryon was in perfect place to control them.

“A campaign against those pirates will not be easy. None have ever managed to hold those islands,” Aemma added, and she nodded.

“That is true, but my husband is feeling rather inspired by Aegon’s success in dealing with the Mountain clansmen of the Vale and believes that a similar approach could be us...” but she suddenly stopped as she heard the screams of men from the city before a massive dragon roar erupted as a shadowy figure took to the skies.

“What is going on out there?” Aemma questioned as she turned towards the window. The shimmer of silver that had just passed infront of their window had been all too familiar.

“It cannot be,” she gasped out as she walked to the window and threw open the curtains. She watched a dragon taking to the skies, one that belonged neither to her nor Rhaenyra.

And her earlier fear was proven right as she stared at a dragon circling through the skies of Kingslanding, a dragon that had not had a rider in many years.

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