King's Landing ― Flea Bottom...
Having decided to separate from Jaehaerys, Aegon, and her uncle Gwayne, Aemma and her group galloped through the streets, seeking the quickest route to the Dragonpit. The air was thick with the sounds of merchants shielding their wares from would-be looters and the chatter of townsfolk scrambling to get out of the way, but as they turned into Flea Bottom, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. However, upon entering Flea Bottom, the city's poorest and most lawless district, every maze of twisty, unpaved alleys and cross-streets that twisted and turned like a serpent posed a significant safety concern. The horses' hooves thudded in the mud, splattering filth and human waste from the drainage pipes that flowed down from Aegon's High Hill to Tanner's Row and Gin Alley. Despite her firm grip on the reins, the nauseating odor assaulted Aemma's senses, nearly causing her to retch as she fought to keep her stomach in check.
Oh, Seven hells, this is disgusting...!
"Wait! Off in the distance!"
One by one, the guardsmen and gold cloaks pulled sharply on their reins, startling the horses into a whinnying protest as they came to an abrupt halt. Aemma and her companions gazed upward, their faces drained of color at the harrowing sight before them. Hanging lifelessly from ropes were men, women, and children, each marked by their striking silver hair-a telltale sign of their lineage as the bastard offspring of commoners and Valyrian nobles. Scattered around them were signs, cruelly emblazoned with words like 'abomination!', 'brother/sister-fucker!', and 'sinner!'. A wave of profound disturbance washed over Aemma, her heart heavy as she absorbed the sheer brutality exhibited by the rioters. It deeply troubled her that, regardless of the knowledge of their parentage, she could not comprehend how anyone could deserve such a cruel fate for simply bearing the semblance of a Targaryen.
"Have the gods no mercy?" Aemma said quietly under her breath.
Then, suddenly, without a hint of what was to come, a crossbow bolt sliced through the air with deadly precision. It whizzed past Aemma, so close that she could feel the rush of wind it created through her hair, before embedding itself in the neck of one of her loyal guards with a sickening thud. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, pure shock and horror, as she turned to witness the grim scene unfolding before her. The guard clutched at his throat, his eyes wide with pain and agony, blood spurting from his neck, before he tumbled from his horse, the ground rushing up to meet him, startling the other horses. However, before they could fully comprehend the sudden incident, a barrage of arrows rained down upon them, slicing through the air with a menacing whistle.
"Ambush!" a gold cloak shouted.
The chaos escalated, and panic gripped the group as they scrambled for cover. Their minds raced to process the onslaught. Aemma's heart pounded in her chest, and the world around her blurred into a whirlwind of confusion and dread. With her head bowed low, Aemma hurriedly navigated the chaotic street, desperate to avoid the flying projectiles. The chaos around her was palpable, a cacophony of shouts and the clatter of hooves, but she pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to survive. Just as she thought she might find a moment's reprieve, a sudden storm of arrows and crossbow bolts descended from above, slicing through the air with deadly precision until they found their mark on her horse, hitting it one by one. In a panic, the animal reared, its hooves striking the air as it neighed, and let out a heart-wrenching neigh that resonated through the chaos, a sound filled with pain and despair. But the horror did not end there; a final, cruel arrow found its mark, piercing the horse's eye and silencing its cries forever, leaving only a haunting stillness in its wake. Aemma was violently thrown from the saddle. She hit the ground with a jarring thud, the force of the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. As she lay there in the mud, disoriented and gasping for air, Aemma's survival instincts kicked in; she quickly rolled aside just in time to avoid being crushed by her fallen steed's weight as it collapsed beside her.
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Fire and Blood
FanfictionPrince, dragonrider, spymaster, heir to the Iron Throne... Aeonar Targaryen had it all growing up and strived to prove his worth. But when the people he cared deeply about betray him, he strikes out on his own to leave his mark on the world - his ac...
