Storm's Aftermath Part : I

69 AC

Throne Hall, Red Keep, King's Landing

The empty throne room of the Red Keep was an eerie sight. It wasn't truly empty, of course—two figures occupied it. A boy with silver hair, no older than twelve, sat on a chair. His once-black tunic was now soaked in blood, the color stark against the stone floors.

Behind him stood a woman with fiery red hair, her presence calm, almost indifferent to the carnage around them. The room was filled with the remains of men—guards, soldiers, maybe even traitors. Their bodies lay dismembered, strewn across the floor in grotesque displays. Limbs were scattered, torsos disemboweled, heads separated from their necks, and from the mass of bodies, a steady stream of blood pooled and flowed toward the entrance of the room.

Baelon Targaryen, the young prince, A little stream of blood seeped from the bodies and through the middle of the hall towards the gate. Anybody seeing it might have become nauseous, but the boy simply sat there cleaning his sword, and the woman behind couldn't care less, she had seen things worse than this.

He could almost hear the voice of his father echoing through his mind; 'Strength lies in blood and fire, boy. Never forget it.'

The door creaked open, and a group of soldiers, wide-eyed and pale, stepped inside. They froze at the sight of the boy and the carnage.

"My Prince," one of them said, barely able to conceal the tremor in his voice. "We… we are here at your command."

Baelon looked up, his violet eyes cold, almost reptilian. "Continue your duty," he said, his tone casual, as though he had asked them to clean a spilled goblet of wine rather than a battlefield of corpses. "This filth," he gestured toward the dead, "needs to be cleaned. My family will return soon."

The soldiers hesitated, their faces betraying fear. But they nodded and began their grim work. As they did so, Baelon stood, wiping his sword clean on a piece of cloth that had once been part of a man's tunic. His shoes left crimson footprints as he walked across the blood-stained floor.

He turned back toward the red-haired woman. "Lady Kinvara, ensure they prepare a proper room for you. You're a royal guest now, and my savior. You will be treated with the respect you deserve."

Baelon continued, not waiting for a response. His shoes left deep, ominous footprints in the blood-soaked ground as if marking a path to certain doom.

…

Later, Baelon lay in a warm bath, the heat easing his aching muscles. His mind, however, remained sharp and calculating. He stared at the ceiling, letting the steam rise around him as memories flashed before his eyes—memories of the treacherous Caesar. He had sensed something was wrong two days ago. The tension in Caesar's voice, the way his shoulders hunched as if burdened by secrets, had tipped him off. Baelon had seen it before, in his other life, when he had been too late to prevent disaster.

'Never again,' Baelon thought, his jaw tightening as the water sloshed gently around him.

<Flashback >

<Two days, after seeing Caesar sending a suspicious raven> 

It was then, two days ago when on his to King's Landing. When he noticed something amiss with Caesar he had whispered his orders to his trusted guard, William, instructing him to keep an eye on Caesar, before bidding a good night to Lady Kinvara. It wasn't long before William had returned, a small slip of parchment in his hand.

"This was found on the raven Caesar sent, my Prince," William had said, his voice low.

Baelon opened the letter and found the damning words:

*Red witch has joined the journey. Prince is not alone.*

The letter was signed with a star, the symbol unmistakable—Oldtown, the seat of the Faith of the Seven. It was clear who was the intended receiver.

A cold anger had settled in Baelon's chest as he read the words. He had been careless. He should have known that Faith would infiltrate his ranks sooner or later. His alliance with Kinvara had threatened their hold on Westeros, and they had acted swiftly.

Caesar had been a spy all along.

'I have been careless. I should have investigated Caesar beforehand, he seemed too perfect initially. It was a mistake because I didn't consider the attraction of Dragon Tar, that the Faith and Maester would employ spies on me that early, and for the riots to now make less sense if it is just about the roads. No, it must be more than that. Caesar, he must have eavesdropped on my some of conversations with Kinvara 10 moons back and informed the Faith of the Seven of it. Only this can cause the faith to retaliate so aggressively, now that Kinvara has returned. This never happened in my past timeline in the books. I have made a senseless mistake, but…'

'Since the emphasis is on my journey it seems they have something big planned for me. With my father summoning the High Septon of Seven and his knowledge of my meetings with Kinvara, this might be a major turning point. I need to rectify my mistake swiftly, if not done we won't know when or how the enemy will attack us. Must start with Caesar.'

But Baelon wasn't soft, never was, given his profession in his last life. Not in his heart, not in his mind. In another life, he had been defeated by the schemes of men like Caesar, but this time, he would not let history repeat itself.

'I lost everything, my family, my career, my dream, even my life. Because I was simply less of a man than my enemies. Man enough to make difficult decisions, carelessness. Any world is a cruel place, if I want to excel I must be more.' 

"Capture Caesar," he had ordered William. "Bring him to me in chains."

It hadn't taken long. Within minutes, Caesar had been dragged into Baelon's tent, bound in iron, his clothes filthy, his face twisted with fear.

"Your Highness," Caesar had pleaded, his voice trembling. ""My prince, forgive me. I am a bit confused?"

Baelon said, "And what confuses you, Caesar?" Not answering him.

 "My prince, I have always served you and the realm faithfully, why I am in chains, treated as a prisoner," he asked.

"Oh. Chains, well that's how we treat traitor, that's why," Baelon replies, to which Caesar feigned ignorance," I am no traitor my prin.."

Baelon shut him up by throwing the message from Raven," Tell me then, what should I do with you?" Baelon said slowly rising from his seat.

Seeing the parchment Caesar felt dread wash over him. He has been a faithful servant all his life, and an excellent spy, but the last couple of days have been hard on him, knowing, that this spell of events is coming to an end. He was anxious and careless and made a mistake at the last moment. the mask had dropped.

But he still tried to redeem the situation, "My prince, I know nothing of this parchment."

But Baelon had not been interested in his lies. He had plunged his dagger through Caesar's hand, pinning him to the ground. The man had screamed, a sound that still echoed in Baelon's ears as he lay in his bath.

Seeing the swift actions all the guards flinched and stepped back. William, an experienced man who has seen his share of bloodshed and killing, is still shocked seeing the coldness in Baelon's eyes. He thought, 'So, this is the infamous Targaryen anger.' 

"Torture me all you want," Caesar spat through the pain. "But I'll never betray the Faith. I'll die a thousand deaths before I tell you anything, you heretic!"

Baelon had merely smiled, and slowly dragged the dagger half buried in the ground, along the palm of Caesar as he continued to look him in the eye. Baelon saw what he expected, a blind fanatic of the Seven, and he expected that blind hatred for him, watching the agony play out on Caesar's face.

"Oh, I know you won't tell me willingly," he had said. "Torture? And why would I do such a pointless thing, when it's clear you are suicidal? But...I don't need you to. I already know what's coming."

Caesar had stared at him, confused.

"You see, Caesar," Baelon had continued, his voice cold, "if you refuse to tell me the Faith's plan, I'll ride to Dragonstone. I'll bond with Vhagar, the oldest and most fearsome of all the dragons, and I'll fly her straight to Oldtown. I'll burn the Citadel and the Starry Sept to the ground. I'll reduce the Faith's seat of power to ash."

Caesar had paled at that, his defiance crumbling in the face of such a threat. "No… you can't… you can't destroy an entire city! The realm will never forgive you!"

Baelon merely snickered inwardly, he knew he had Caesar where he wanted. For a man of Caesar's loyalty to Faith, will kill himself before becoming the reason for its destruction. He just needed to use that against him. "Oh, maybe I can or I can't. But I can send this to my father. He has already summoned the High Septon for crime against the crown and realm. May this be added to the list? Then he can do the destruction for me. I think sending a spy to kill a Prince is enough reason for such a punishment don't you think."

This incident caused Caesar to drop to the ground in anxiety. He now realized the power of the Targaryens. They couldn't be defeated as long as they had dragons. However, he couldn't let this happen. At the same time, he couldn't betray the faith by revealing this information to the heretic.

Caesar had just received a raven from Oldtown, reporting that 500 Faith militants were attacking the Prince's party on their way to King's Landing in a day. He couldn't condemn the lives of these 500 comrades, but could he risk the wrath of the dragon?

After learning of the prince's death, the King would undoubtedly retaliate. Caesar was in shock and confusion, looking down at the ground. When he looked up, he saw Lady Kinvara standing among the others, observing the situation. She must have come to see what was happening after hearing Caesar's scream.

He smiled upon seeing her and called out to her, "Lady Kinvara, sorry to disturb your rest." He drew everyone's attention to her, including Caesar, who looked at her with unbound hatred. She looked up at him and said, "No need for apologizing, my prince. I merely came to see, if there was an emergency." she said walking slightly forward.

Baelon asked, " Then what will it be, Caesar?" Caesar ultimately decided to believe in the high septon, if he had decided to kill the prince, he must have thought of the consequences of this. about the prince himself taking a dragon and doing this, he didn't believe this, he knew that even a prince can't destroy a city on his whim and not worry about consequences.

So he replied, "I will not say anything. You can kill me if you like. But I will not bend against a heretic and your red witch." His words, send a wave of surprise in the audience of 200 guards. Calling the prince, a heretic was treachery, if it's just for meeting with the red priestess, although many of them didn't like her, as a believer of faith themselves.

These guards were of course unaware of the deal between Baelon and Red Temple, which Caesar has come to overhear some of it. A deal Caesar had overheard in fragments.

Baelon immediately felt dread. Caesar's refusal to choose Oldtown and his disregard for the warning meant he trusted the faith to defend itself. This was worrying, as it could be interpreted as the faith having a military force or support from noble houses. With the king calling an entire religion to court on trial, this could become troublesome. But Baelon needed concrete information, not speculation or guesswork.

'No, no, no. I will not lose my loved ones and family again due to my incompetence. This life must not be a failure. I have learned my lessons from the past. I will do whatever needs to be done and face whoever needs to be faced. I have come to know that while I may not have chosen my family by blood, I have come to love my new family, though not an easy one. But I will always protect them, be their greatest strength, and make them invincible.'

As Baelon remained silent, his eyes flickered with determination and fire. Caesar grew anxious during the silence, fearing for his life. However, it was Kinvara who broke the silence, saying, "My Prince, if I may?" She wanted to know if it was appropriate for her to speak.

Baelon, still silent, nodded. She said, "If you wish to know what this man knows, I can help."

...

..

<to be continued>