the bear and the dragon fair - hotd au.

act two, part five : into the fire.

"My prince, please, you must see reason—"

"What reason? That my nephew has been slaughtered? That my half-sister, gods curse her name, has robbed my family of its joy, of the kingdom of its heir?" It took all of the self-control within Aemond to not tear the letter he held into pieces. The letter brought naught but devastation. The household staff scurried out of view as he stormed up the stairs. Let them run.

"Aemond, striking now would only reveal our hand too quickly, we must—"

"Fuck your hand!" Aemond spun to face Gwyn, only a pace or two behind him. "Jaehaerys is dead! My sister-son, my brother's heir, it is my duty to be with my family and avenge them!" A lesser man would have cowed, but Gwyn stood as straight and tall as a spear.

"Aemond. We can give your brother vengeance on a silver platter if only we strike when the time is right." His voice was the hard steel of a commanding lord, but after a moment, his face crumpled and softened. "I remember Jaehaerys. We will have his revenge. I swear it." Softly, slowly, one of his broad hands came to circle Aemond's wrist. "Jaehaerys used to beg me to play knights and tourneys with him."

"I remember." Often, when Helaena tired and wished to be alone, the twins were fostered onto anyone nearby. Aemond and Gwyn had spent many evenings entertaining the children while their mother rested. "You always let him knock you off your feet."

Aemond kept staring at their touching hands between them, but he could hear Gwyn's smile in his voice. "And Jaehaera practiced her braids in both of our hair." Thick with emotion, his voice warbled, but he kept speaking. "Aem, I would fight Rhaenyra and Daemon and all their brood and soldiers with my bare hands for you and your family. If you truly see it fit to leave now and take to King's Landing," Gwyn cleared his throat, then lowered onto one knee, still gently holding Aemond's wrist. "Then I am yours to order, and I will serve you until I can no longer. If you command me, I will muster our men and march upon the Crownlands at once."

Aemond looked down at him for a long moment. Gwyn's fealty, handed on a shining silver platter, not to Aegon, or his mother, but to him. Gwyn would march on his word, his command, deliver him his uncle's head, and yet... "Stand."

Gwyn obeyed but kept his hold on Aemond's wrist. Aemond couldn't meet his gaze, keeping his eyes trained on their touching flesh. He swallowed. "I will not march on King's Landing yet. But we must call all the forces we can at once. What are we looking at?"

"Stark has partnered with Queen Rhaenyra's oldest, so we can't directly call for forces in the north, but we have a handful of loyal men on the isle of fighting age and skill. Groups of ironborn and free folk will fight for a price." He ticked off his fingers on his free hand as he spoke. "My sister is wed to the Bolton heir, and they've been willing to sneak behind Stark backs before, and have ties to the Umbers as well. Lord Ryswell was a friend of my brother, they may be willing."

"It won't be much, is what you're saying."

Gwyn shrugged. "Not in numbers, most likely, but northmen will fight until the end. Besides, we have Vhagar, and if we get the ironborn, sea power too." Aemond finally looked up at Gwyn, finding a small smile on his face. "Not much, aye, but it's a chance, and a force."

"Good. Muster them at once, then we march." Finally releasing Gwyn's hand took more willpower than he liked. "We'll sweep south, and strike for Harrenhal, rip it out from under my uncle. We'll need that foothold in the Riverlands." Aemond almost turned to go, but paused, thoughts clicking together. "Your mother is a Tully, is she not?"

"Aye, she is." Gwyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "She may be able to call them to our side. I can speak to her if you wish."

"No, I'll speak to her myself. Where is she?"