Chapter 74 - Interlude : The Green Terror

125 AC

Aemond Pov

"Where are we going, Aegon?" I asked, exasperated with my brother's secretive nature. We had hoods covering our heads as it was a moonless night when we ventured out to explore the dark underbelly of King's Landing.

"You will love it, brother," he said, a sinister grin etched on his face, barely visible beneath the hood.

"Is it a brothel?" I inquired, wanting to make it clear that I wouldn't be part of such debauchery.

Aegon's eyes flashed with annoyance. "It is not," he hissed, his voice dripping with a mix of anticipation and malice. Soon, we arrived at a decrepit house, its size belying the sordid secrets hidden within. The raucous shouts of the crowd spilled out from within its rotting walls.

"Just as the Free Cities have their fighting pits, so do we ," Aegon explained with an unsettling cheerfulness.

What I witnessed next ignited a visceral rage within me. 

"Instead of men fighting each other, we have children ," Aegon announced with a sadistic grin, and I saw two young, bloodied children clawing at each other, battering each other mercilessly as the surrounding onlookers reveled in the depravity.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the horrifying spectacle. The air was thick with malevolence as I noticed officers of the City Watch present, their indifference to the brutality a testament to the rot that had consumed the very heart of King's Landing. Shadows cast by torchlight danced eerily on the faces of some of the lords of the court, their sinister pleasure evident as they cheered on the young combatants, treating the children's suffering as mere entertainment.

In that moment, as I stood shrouded in darkness, a chilling realization gripped me – King's Landing was a city not only of political intrigue but also one where the innocence of its youth had been sacrificed at the altar of cruelty and corruption. It was a place where the vilest of deeds could be found lurking in the shadows, hidden from the prying eyes of the world.

"Bah, he is useless," a man with crooked teeth and scars etched into his face sneered as he entered the small pit that had formed where one of the boys lay unconscious. He slowly raised the boy's neck, and his dagger gleamed ominously in the dim light. I immediately recognized the malevolent intent, and without a second thought, I leaped into action.

Drawing my sword swiftly, I brought it down on the man's neck. A gruesome spray of blood erupted, painting the surroundings red. The pit fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the blood-curdling gurgle of the dying man.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, some of the gold cloaks unsheathed their swords, ready to confront this unexpected threat. They lunged at me in a frenzy, their blades gleaming in the flickering torchlight.

"Aemond, what are you doing?" Aegon's voice pierced through the mayhem, a mixture of shock and desperation in his tone. He screamed as the city watchmen closed in on me. I unsheathed my second sword, determined to protect myself and bring an end to this madness.

A brutal, unforgiving battle ensued. The clashing of steel against steel, the pained cries of the wounded, and the eerie tension in the air filled the pit. I fought fiercely, my blades becoming an extension of my will, slashing through the men who had intended to harm us. Three of the city watchmen fell to my relentless onslaught.

As the lifeless bodies of their comrades lay at their feet, the remaining men attacking me finally stopped their assault, their expressions shifting from aggression to stark terror. They now understood the grave mistake they had made, realizing that the person they had attacked was not just some unsuspecting victim but a formidable force to be reckoned with.

"It's the Green Terror!" they cried out in fear as they scattered like frightened rats, leaving behind the pit of horrors they had helped perpetuate.

With the immediate threat now gone, I turned my attention to the young boy lying on the ground. I knelt beside him, my heart heavy with sorrow and anger. Gently, I checked his breathing, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips when I realized he was still alive.

Determined to uncover the full extent of this atrocity, I ventured further into the decrepit place. My steps echoed through the oppressive darkness, leading me to a series of cellars where more young children were imprisoned. Their frail forms and vacant, emotionless eyes told a harrowing tale of prolonged suffering and neglect.

A burning rage coursed through my veins, and I muttered under my breath, "I will burn the bastards involved in this," my thoughts drifting to the vengeance that Vhagar, my faithful dragon, would soon bring.

My resolve was put to the test when I heard approaching footsteps. I saw a man greedily emptying a box of coins, likely one of the culprits behind this heinous operation. Without hesitation, I confronted him.

"You," I seethed, advancing with intent. The man, weak and desperate, attempted to resist, but his futile efforts were no match for my determination. I slammed his head onto a nearby table, blood gushing from his face as I shoved him to the ground.

"Who is responsible for this?" I demanded, my voice laced with the promise of violence. The man refused to cooperate.

"Very well," I declared coldly. I took hold of his hand and unsheathed my dagger. "For every question you refuse to answer, I will take something from you." I sliced through one of his fingers, causing him to scream in agony.

"Who is your master?" I pressed further. The man, his resolve breaking, attempted to mumble something, but I saw the horrifying truth – he had no tongue.

The man's wails and sobs filled the air, and as he looked at me with terror in his eyes, I knew that my pursuit of justice would be far more challenging and gruesome than I had ever imagined.

With one final, brutal strike, the man crumpled, unconscious and defeated. I wiped my blade clean and turned to the pitiful children locked in the cellars. One by one, I gently lifted them from their squalid prison, their fragile forms a stark contrast to the darkness they had endured. I carried them outside, into the growing light of dawn, where the first rays of the rising sun offered a glimmer of hope.

Once the children were safe, I turned my attention back to the now-unconscious man. Despite the violence I had unleashed upon him, I needed him alive to bear witness to the justice that would be meted out. I carefully tended to his wounds, stemming the flow of blood, ensuring that he would live long enough to face the consequences of his actions.

As the sun continued its ascent in the sky, the distant sound of approaching hoofbeats reached my ears. I turned to see Ser Criston leading a detachment of knights. Among them was my uncle, Ser Gwayne, who had been alerted to the unfolding events. I assured them that I was unharmed, and their attention quickly shifted to the rescued children and the captive responsible for their torment.

Ser Criston wasted no time. He gave orders to his men to secure the children and the captive and bring them back to the Red Keep, where justice would be served. The knights of House Targaryen, bearing the weight of their dragon sigil, were sworn to protect the innocent and uphold the law. The children would finally find safety, and the men who had inflicted such cruelty upon them would face my wrath. 

As I approached the gates of the Red Keep, my mother stood there, her face etched with worry. The moment she saw me, relief washed over her, and she enveloped me in a tight, trembling hug.

"What were you thinking, Aemond?" she chided me, her voice laden with a mixture of anger and deep concern. "What would I do if something happened to you?" Her eyes glistened with the threat of tears as she clung to me.

I offered no words, merely comforting her with my presence as I felt the weight of her fears pressing upon me. Eventually, she led me to Maegor's Holdfast, where I found my brother, Aegon, standing in apparent obliviousness.

"You gave me quite a fright, brother. What were you thinki—" Aegon's words were cut short as my rage consumed me. Without warning, I swung my fist, landing a powerful blow squarely on his jaw. Aegon staggered backward, a trail of blood trickling from his mouth.

"You knew about what was happening down there. What kind of a man are you?" I seethed, my anger overpowering any rational thought. The betrayal I felt coursed through my veins, and I was unable to contain my fury.

Uncle Gwayne swiftly intervened, holding me back before I could deliver another punishing blow to Aegon. His firm grip was the only thing that kept me from unleashing more of my wrath upon my cunt of a brother.

Aegon's wide eyes were filled with fear, the realization of my anger and wrath etched across his face.

"Aemond!" Grandfather's voice thundered through the room, instantly commanding our attention. He swiftly intervened, his presence radiating authority as he helped my battered brother to his feet.

"Alicent, take Aegon to the maester," Grandfather instructed, and my mother hurried to her son's side, her face etched with concern as she guided him away from the tumultuous scene.

Grandfather's piercing gaze turned towards me, his expression stern and unwavering. He was about to address me, his intentions clear and formidable, but before any words could escape his lips, Ser Criston entered with a sense of urgency.

"Lord Hand, the King is calling for you," Ser Criston reported, interrupting the family moment and casting a shadow of anticipation over the room.

Grandfather's attention shifted immediately, his duty to the King taking precedence. He left in haste, but not before casting a meaningful look in my direction, silently urging me to compose myself and face the consequences of my actions.

As Uncle Gwayne released his hold on me, I muttered a demand to be left alone. I retreated to the sanctuary of my room, my emotions a tempest within me, leaving me to grapple with the maelstrom of anger and rage that coursed through me.

A tentative knock rapped against my door, and Helaena entered, her presence a bittersweet refuge in the midst of my harrowing turmoil. She was accompanied by a servant bearing a basin of water and clean towels, but even the soothing ritual of cleansing felt like a hollow comfort in the wake of the horrors I had witnessed.

"Brother, how are you?" she inquired her soft touch on my face a gentle caress that only seemed to deepen the wounds within me.

My expression must have conveyed the depth of my distress, for Helaena promptly dismissed the servant, ensuring we had the privacy needed for this agonizing conversation. As soon as the servant left, I felt an overwhelming urge to draw my sister close, and I hugged Helaena with a desperation that mirrored the bleakness of the revelation.

"They were just children," I whispered, my voice breaking under the immense weight of the horrors that gnawed at my soul. My words were a tortured mixture of anguish and seething anger.

"They were forced to fight each other to the death, subjected to unspeakable horrors, all while the despicable nobles and members of the City Watch reveled in the brutality," I recounted, the bitterness and revulsion palpable in my words. "And that wretch you call a husband... you should have seen the perverse joy etched upon his face as he led me into that infernal place."

My voice trembled, and tears streamed down my face as the full extent of the heart-wrenching ordeal weighed upon me. "When I held those children, they felt as if they didn't weigh anything, Helaena," I lamented. "And as I gazed into their vacant, tormented eyes, I couldn't help but think of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera."

"What kind of monstrous souls could perpetrate such cruelty?" I questioned the confluence of rage, grief, and despair echoing in my voice.

Helaena guided me to sit down, her touch gentle as she started to wipe my bloodied hands clean. Her tenderness was a soothing balm for my troubled soul.

"Aemond," she spoke softly, her voice carrying a depth of understanding that eased the burden in my heart. "I know in my heart that you will be able to put an end to this monstrosity, but, my dear brother, please remember not to lose yourself in the process."

Her eyes, filled with love and concern, met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I felt the warmth of family and the strength of our bond. "The twins and you are all I have left," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

I leaned in and gently kissed her forehead, a tender reassurance of my love.. "Never," I declared with unwavering conviction.

The heavy, ornate doors to the council chambers swung open, revealing the resplendent Kingsguard. As I entered, the small council members, including my father, turned their attention toward me.

"Aemond, my son, how are you?" he asked, his tone revealing a rare moment of paternal concern that I had never experienced before.

"As well as one can be after witnessing the depravity present in the city," I replied, a weight of sorrow and anger lacing my words.

Lord Jasper Wylde, his features etched with anger, wasted no time in addressing the issue that had brought me before the small council. "Prince Aemond, could you tell us the reason as to why you killed three gold cloaks?"

"They deserved it, that's why," I snapped back, my frustration with the situation simmering beneath the surface.

"Just because you are the Prince does not mean you can escape the law," Lord Jasper retorted, and my fury flared in response.

"I did nothing wrong, and if I had the chance, I would burn each and every one present there with Vhagar," I declared, my voice resolute and defiant.

"Prince Aemond, please calm yourself," my grandfather interjected, his wise and calming presence seeking to mitigate the tension in the room.

He then addressed me directly, giving me an opportunity to tell my side of the story. I recounted the harrowing events I had witnessed, and as I spoke, a look of horror overtook Father's face. The reality of the city's descent into darkness and cruelty was laid bare before the small council, and the weight of the truth was impossible to ignore.

"How could this happen under my very nose?" Father seethed with anger, his tone one of disbelief and frustration.

A heavy silence hung in the room, but I wasn't about to let them off the hook that easily. I turned my scornful gaze toward Lord Jasper, mocking him. "Does the Master of Laws not have anything to say?"

"But this is not only his fault; all of you are responsible for this," I declared, my voice brimming with righteous indignation. "The damned gold cloaks are involved in this, along with the nobles. What kind of men allow this to happen?"

I continued to vent my anger, not mincing words. "The Gold Cloaks are nothing but common thugs dressed in armor," I spat out.

Father, seeking a solution, finally asked, "So, what solution do you have for this, son?"

With determination blazing in my eyes, I offered a bold proposition. "Make me the Commander of the City Watch, and I will damn well clean this shithole of a city."

As my words reverberated in the room, everyone's eyes widened, my audacious request catching them off guard.

"Well, Father, what action will you take to rectify this miscarriage of law and order? Will you let it be, or will you do something about it?" I challenged.

His patience exhausted, Father relented, his decision swift and unequivocal. 

"I, King Viserys, hereby name Prince Aemond Targaryen the Commander of the City Watch from this day forth."

With his declaration, he gave me the authority I needed to take action.

"Son, do what you need to," he instructed, and I nodded in response.

 My thoughts were already consumed with the actions I would need to take to bring justice and order to this beleaguered city.