Fire and Blood

Chapter 44: A War of Rival Factions

Red Keep ― Royal apartments...

Since the Valyrian steel sword Blackfyre was bestowed upon Aeonar, Beatrice had sequestered herself in her private solar with her three children. There she spent most of her days plotting, scheming, and strategizing ways to strike back against the Blacks in her bid to reclaim the power she once had before the purge. Yet only one of her children seemed to be paying attention to her... whereas the others...

"Blankets of shadow. Swimming, consuming... covering all in its path," Helaena spoke cryptically, her eyes focused on one of the insects crawling across her palm. "Two sides lock in eternal conflict..."

"Look at her," Aegon the Elder pointed at his sister. "Does anyone know what she's saying?"

"Blankets of shadow. Swimming, consuming... covering all in its path. Two sides lock in eternal conflict..."

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"Blankets of shadow. Swimming, consuming... covering all in its path. Two sides lock in eternal conflict..."

"Pffft! What an idiot."

"Enough, Aegon!" Beatrice scolded. "If anything, would you mind explaining why you've been neglecting your studies... again?!"

Aegon flinched. "It's boring..." he answered.

"'Boring'? Any task that requires your attention, you find 'boring'? You are a prince, Aegon. A prince of royal blood! Do you think it allows you to j-just... shirk your responsibilities as if they meant absolutely nothing, sit around all day, and be lazy and act as a lowborn commoner would?! No, no I will not permit that for as long as you walk and breathe, Aegon." Beatrice cupped her son's cheeks in her hands. "You bear the Conqueror's name, you carry on his legacy, and before long, you will rise to the top and claim what is rightfully yours by divine right."

"But, mother, I-I don't want it―"

"What do you mean you don't want it?!"

"I don't want to rule. A-And I-I'm ninth in line..."

"So you would let an insult of this magnitude to our family stick without so much as a care in the world?! Not in this lifetime, not in this world! Here, we must defend our own against any who would dare threaten us. As things stand, Aeonar will ascend the Iron Thorne and Jaehaerys Targaryen will be his heir when your father passes. And to secure his claim – to rid himself of any competition he deems a threat, he'll put you, your brother, your sister, and all your children to the sword so no one may challenge him. When that time comes, will you stand by and watch it all happen? Huh?! Will you? Why can't you be more like your brother?"

"Aeonar?"

"NO, you dolt! Aemond!"

Aegon quivered at his mother's harsh words. The elder Aegon was already aware of his place within the line of succession; as negotiated by King Viserys and Lord Corlys, his position was knocked down to make room for Rhaenyra's sons – and the more male offspring his older half-brother and half-sister would produce, the further down the line he and Aemond would go. But in truth, Aegon didn't want the throne. He had no passion or yearning for it. And for that, Aegon was perceived as weak and incompetent by the Blacks.

Aemond, on the other hand, watched his mother reprimanding his brother. Although the boy was young, his mind concocted images and what-if scenarios on what the future would hold for him when he grew up. 'The Young Dragon,' 'Heir to the Flames,' 'King of Dragons', 'the Black Prince'... Aemond was in awe of Aeonar's reputation despite the hostility between his mother and half-brother. Unlike Aegon the Elder, he studied history and philosophy vigorously to meet expectations; and when he was old enough, Aemond would train regularly in swordsmanship. And he would not be left behind; no, he would push on ahead and carve out a legacy of his own.