Like Father, Like Son | House of the Dragon

A Champion is Named

Wow! So as promised, this fic is not abandoned.

Unfortunately, I had some personal things come up these past months that limited how much I could write. However, I have returned and the time between chapters should not be so long again.

I can't thank you enough to everyone who has stuck with this, I apologise for the long absence and hope you enjoy the latest chapters.

Please let me know of any issues, Comments and Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

The following morning...

Aerion sat at the table of the royal dining hall, reserved for the royal family and their guests, eating a small bowl of oats and goat milk.

His mind was set elsewhere, it was preparing for the melee that will decide if he wins the tourney over the renowned knight of the Kingsguard, Ser Arryk Cargyll.

Another thought was on his mind, the offer to become an advisor to the King, it certainly had its benefits but would he really want to spend hours discussing the petty squabbles between feuding families, when he could be out conquering lands and making a name for himself.

While he was envisioning the destiny that he intended to carve out for himself, the door to the corridors of Maegor's holdfast opened, and his sworn shield, Ser Rodrik, appeared with the maester beside him, carrying a few cloths, with needle and thread.

"I was told you were here." Rodrik spoke.

He ordered the maesters to come close, but Aerion pushed the small man away with a nudge of his shoulder, raising his brow to Rodrik.

"If he tries to touch me, I will gouge his eyes out." Aerion said, turning back to look at the maester intensely, causing him to back up further.

"Show the cut, my prince." Rodrik said, crossing his arms "We need to make sure it is not infected for the melee, it could cost you much more than just the win."

"Fine." Aerion replied, rolling his eyes.

The prince lifted the sleeve to reveal the cut that lay on his arm in a horizontal position across the forearm, and the maester took hold of it after placing the supplies down on the table.

"Why did you not say anything?" Rodrik demanded "Must I seek to know everything from servants?"

"I didn't even notice till I got back to my chambers, I am fine, it doesn't even hurt.." Aerion shrugged, then flinched as the maester ran his finger across the cut, and the prince gritted his teeth.

"What was that?" Rodrik scoffed.

"Shut it." Aerion mumbled, leaning back on the chair and closing his eyes, attempting to shut out the pain as the Maester began to close the wound with the needle, his fists clenching tightly with each time the needle penetrated his skin.

"That should do it, my prince." the maester said, wiping around the scar with a cloth "The wound will heal nicely, though do not put so much strain on your arm for the next few days."

"If only I would listen to your advice, maester." Aerion grinned, receiving a look of annoyance from Rodrik "You're dismissed."

"Are you prepared for today? You can always call it quits should this be too much for you. There'd be no shame in someone your age to do so." Rodrik asked, finally taking a seat opposite the prince, resting a hand on the sword that dangled from his belt.

"I am going to imagine that you did not ask that question, for you know it is not in my nature to do that." Aerion pointed out, taping his finger against the arm of his chair "I need to come out on top, by any means necessary."