House of the Dragon: The Green King

Frustration

"Prince Aemon came out of the womb ready to fight the world." Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd

110-AC

The glowing sun gently illuminated the bloody sky as it began to fall asleep and fade away behind Visenyas Hill.

The winds carried the rustling of the restless trees.

Swish swish swish

The sound of metal moving and piercing the air reverberated through the Red Keep. A lone boy with long black hair stood tall.

Moving with grace, he danced his dance of death, his form impeccable and perfect without any flaws, sweat glistening over his fair skin as he continued his training.

Aemon pov

I have to keep moving. I have to keep going. I can't stop, won't stop ever, not now, never. I won't stop.

I kept running through the stances and movements the master at arms drilled into my mind—the same movements that I was now drilling into my very soul.

Panting heavily, I could barely lift up my arms, but I had to move through it. I will not stop.

Brief flashes of horrific events flash in my mind again.

"Betrayed by his own men"

"Died alone in a field."

"Died at the bottom of the god's eye."

"Brothel Queen"

Like clockwork, my mind tormented me with events yet to occur that forced me to move. I will never let that happen, not as long as I draw breath. I forced my arms up as I once again started swinging my blade.

The good thing about this king of combat perk was that no matter how hard I tried, my body healed, grew stronger, and fully recovered after a good night's sleep.

So I abused this as much as I could. As soon as I started to run, I did so every day till I vomited to increase my stamina. I stretched daily to keep myself limber and agile, and now I'm abusing this to become the best swordsman in history because I will use it and every trick I can, no matter how underhanded, to keep my family safe. That's why I won't stop after a meagre six hours of constant tanning. We are setting the record of eight hours so I can move to ten next week, so move, body move.

Alicent pov

Thump thump

I walked over to the doors to my chamber, sighing, This better not be what I groan in my mind.

Opening the door, I see Ser Harlod carrying my son on his shoulder, and I can't help but sigh at the sight. "Was he passed out in the tanning yard again, Lord Commander?"

"Yes, Your Grace This time Emilia called me as soon as he hit the floor," the old man replied, his voice almost as tired as hers.

"Place him on my bed and take your leave, Ser," I said, trying but failing to hide my annoyance at this situation.

He did as he was told and then left. What is wrong with my son? I can't help but think as I look at him sleeping peacefully, the only time he is ever at peace.

I knew he was special the moment I saw his deep violet eyes, near-identical copies of the old king, brimming with wisdom well past his years. However, sometimes I can't help but wonder: was this wisdom a curse or a blessing? My son, the boy who learned all there was to learn from a measter before the age of seven, had now dedicated himself to the sword.

Sometimes I curse Viseryes for letting him train. At such a young age, Aemon became obsessed with the art of combat, spending all day every day in the tanning yard, only coming out to eat if I or one of his siblings forced him to. The boy knew no rest, and as soon as he could run, he terrorised the red keep. As soon as he could lift the blade, he never put it back down.

The Warriors blessing I have heard some of the maids calling it a boy built for war. They say he is already much bigger than any boy his age, so much so that if he wasn't my son, I would never believe him to be less than 13 name days old, and for an eight name day old boy that was harrowing, his size was only outmatched by his small folk companion Robar, who was even taller and only a little older than my son but seems to have picked up my son's obsession with combat.

This is so frustrating. Usually he does whatever I ask before I even have to say it, but by cutting his training hours, he will not stop. He keeps training more and more; it's as if he is preparing to fight an army by himself.

Pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind, I lay a gentle kiss on his forehead, climb into bed with him, and prepare to sleep.

Aemon pov

Changing into some darker clothes, I walk towards the north face of my room as I reach the left side and push in a stone, opening a secret passageway.

Thank you, King Meagor.

I make my way through the passageway, working around the keep, until I finally exit a little bit outside of the red keep. This was my golden ticket. I can't look back now. I think as I began walking through the crowded streets of King Landing, thanks to my size and the sword strapped to my waist, I could traverse easily through the city.

After walking for some time, I made it to the dragon pit, my destination. No matter how many times I looked at it, I marvelled at its grandiosity. Making my way forward, I'm stopped by one of the guards.

"Halt, turn back now," he said in an authoritative tone. I pulled down my hood and revealed my face, and I saw his face go white. "Prince Aemon, what are you doing here, your grace?" he said in a panicked voice. This guy was new, and that's exactly why I snuck down here during his shift.

"Don't question me, peasant," I said as I walked past him, bumping into his shoulder on purpose, making him think I was pissed. This would buy me a little bit of time before he tells someone who knows I shouldn't be here without an armed escort.

I quickly hurry through the pit and make my way down through a dark corridor, trying to avoid people as best I can.

Quickly, I made it to my destination, and there she was. I couldn't help but smirk as I saw the pale blue scales shining brightly as she ate a dead sheep that was in front of her.

My ticket to getting started on my mission is to establish yourself. Dreamfyre I waited for her to finish her meal as I crept up to her slowly. Her head turned slightly as she acknowledged me.

"Rytsas Dreamfyre" (hello Dreamfyre). I spoke loudly as I made my way over to her, slowly creeping towards her. I kept closing the distance between us.

"Sȳz hāedar, kostilus rual issa naejot renigon ao." (Good girl, please allow me to touch you, I said as I moved my hand to try and touch her, but a dangerous snort stopped my As I looked into her eyes, I could see the distrust.

"Nyke daor gonna ōdrikagon ao kostilus ivestragī issa" (I'm not going to hurt you, please let me) she snorted, moving away as she turned to face me now, oh no, this was bad.

She begins to open her mouth as her razor-sharp fangs come into view. Her mouth is glowing blue. "Dohaeris Dreamfyre Dohaeris" (obey Dreamfyre obey). I scream, but it's no use. She lets loose a jet of pale blue flames as I dive to the left, barely avoiding the fire.

I quickly throw away my cloke as it catches fire, and I bolt out of the room before she can let loose some more flames. I barely make it out as I hear some disgruntled roars.

I let out a deep sigh as I walked towards the exit, but as soon as I arrived, my blood ran cold.

"Hello, Your Grace," says a disgruntled old man. The last old man I ever wanted to see in this situation.

Sorry for the late upload but work is a bitch