Like Father, Like Son | House of the Dragon

Proposal

Aerion I

The feast celebrating the recapture of Runestone was a modest affair when compared to the wedding feast of Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor and there were only a few nobles to enjoy the occasion, and so the great hall stood only half full as it should. Their foot soldiers and lowborn knights celebrated out in the fields where their camp had been set up before they soon departed back to their posts on the docks, or to the Redfort.

Rows of tables had been erected in the hall, with Aerion's table being at the forefront just below the throne of the ancient bronze kings, carved from stone with runes that had been etched across the arms and back, and filled with melted copper. Performers and entertainers had been invited from the nearby villages and littered the hall, with the young pages, squires and maids busy serving drinks to those present.

The prince wore a black doublet, intricate in its design, golden lace embroidered dragons adorned the helm, their fierce elegance accentuated by the arms of the doublet, which mimicked the scaly texture of the mighty beasts, and his once long silver locks, was now cut short.

Atop each of the tables were plentiful amounts of meat: roasted duck, seared beef, assorted sausages, and baked goat legs, and more importantly, it would not be a feast without the assortment of the finest wines in their cellars from across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

Aerion, despite the objections from his close council, was quick to command the removal of his mother's banners, and in their stead, replace them with the three-headed dragon's banner of House Targaryen in the great hall, which they now hung proudly on the walls, and above their gates, to show the nobility that a new power dominated the Vale as the Bronze King's of old never could.

The prince banged his goblet against the table carved from the Ironwood of House Forrester in the North to gain the attention of the guests as soon as they were in their seats. Amongst his table was only that of his closest allies, to his left were Ser Rodrik, Lord Donnel Grafton, and the former gold cloak, Jory Manderly, while to his right sat Ser Willam, Ser Adrian Redfort, and Runestones Maester and a previous teacher of the prince, Davos.

He rose from his chair with the goblet of Arbor Red in hand, and let out a loud laugh as he dropped back down to his seat, finding it difficult to keep his balance, clearly under the influence of drink before the feast was fully underway.

"Wel...Welcome to you all!" Aerion began, swaying slightly "This victory is yours. The fine men that sit before me, and those... those celebrating wildly outside these walls. I could... could... I could never have regained my home without your strength and dedication."

Willam rose from his chair, and placed a hand upon Aerion's arm as he attempted to gently force him back down onto his seat.

"You're making a fool of yourself, brother." Willam said "Allow me to finish this speech to save further embarrassment."

Aerion furrowed his brow and turned his gaze towards Willam, his eyes narrowing as he tried to discern which of the two blurry figures before him was the real Willam. He pushed him back as he gave a vacant stare.

"I'm fine... I'm fine.." he wobbled as his focus was then on Adrian Redfort "For centuries, our families... have fought side by side on the battlefield, and only... only together will we finally bring peace to our lands."

Aerion lifted his free hand, nearly spilling his drink as he gestured for everyone to rise.

"Get up.. Come on, to House Redfort. May our houses... stand together for a thousand years more."

He finally fell back down into his seat, and Willam took the chance to rise back up from his chair and place a hand on Aerion's shoulder as he addressed the crowd.