Faith

"Look at my dear child, so deprived and hungry. How could I have allowed you to reach such a terrible state?" Bellona questioned with a sarcastic tone, standing by the entrance. "Even your long hair… oh, poor child."

"I am very much alive." Aerion looked up, his body growing cold. Layers of ice had grown on his face and his blue left eye reflected that change. "Yes... alive."

"Come… you can feast on me."

"I can do without."

"How very stubborn you can be."

Aerion walked past her, leaving the dragonpit. When he tried to look up at the clear blue sky, the radiant sun blinded him. He raised his hand as if to grasp it…

The sky darkened and clouds emerged, blocking the sun.

Drop… drop.

His eyes widened as he witnessed drops of snow. He opened his palm… watching the drops gather. He didn't move an inch as snow continued to fall onto King's Landing, covering the city in its pure white embrace. After his entire palm was covered, the wind blew the snow high up and scattered it across the sky.

Aerion expanded his wings and soared up.

…

"Winter… the cold that draws out the warmth within." Aerion remarked, watching King's Landing from above the Red Keep's highest tower. He recalled Jocelyn's words of praise for winter and managed a smile. He grabbed his harp and took a deep breath.

"Have you ever seen Winter?"

"The sun hides away and the world under it freezes."

"Even during the warmest hours, a man's body quivers in the cold."

"The once green flora wilts away."

"Fields of grass turn to fields of ice and snow."

"And yet… the halls within are warm and lively."

"For the warmth of the people appears most in the coldest of days."

"One day... you will see."

Aerion set aside his harp, observing the streets of King's Landing below. As planned, the once foul, lawless and beyond poor Flea Bottom had been cleansed away. Where the slums once were now was a street full of large, clean and comfortable houses accommodating thousands with many beautiful attractions to go with them. King's Landing had also expanded past its original walls, making use of the lands outside.

Even when he tried, he couldn't find a single person sleeping on the street. Not one beggar had remained, seemingly either being given accommodations and duties to go with them or taken elsewhere such as the Stepstones.

Given the sudden cold, many went into their houses to keep warm and the streets seemed quite empty for a bustling city. Then, as more time passed, Aerion felt like it was a good time to cease the snow but then he noticed that the children had come out to play with it.

'Well, then...' He chuckled. 'I suppose they should be able to play a while longer.'

He heard footsteps from below and waited patiently, already knowing who it was.

"There's only one voice like that." Jocelyn Baratheon stated, walking up beside him. "I take it you finished the ceremony?"

"Yes... it's finished." Aerion nodded, glancing at her.

As always, she looked gorgeous. She was taller than most knights with a fighting physique to match, resembling her father the most with her long black hair and shimmering blue eyes. She had full breasts that even furs struggled to hide and a wagon that was the envy of many a lady. Truly, she had all the blessings of her parents and more.

"I trust you slept well."

"And you..." Jocelyn Baratheon frowned slightly, raising her hand to feel the side of his face. "You look awful, Aerion. When was the last time you drank blood?"

"It's funny... I don't even feel the need for it." Aerion tilted his head. "My thirst seems to have died completely. Even in your presence, I don't feel the temptation. Mayhaps it's not even quite so necessary for me."

"It doesn't matter what you feel. The truth is that the longer you neglect yourself, the worse off you'll be." Jocelyn moved her sleeve up and cut a wound in her arm. Fresh blood spilled down while she looked into his dark lilac eyes. "I won't let you keep hurting yourself... I don't care how stubborn you may be. I'll force you to drink if I have to."

Aerion turned to her, smiling slightly as he saw her determined expression. He placed his head against hers and closed his eyes.

"And I'm the one who is stubborn?" Aerion chuckled. "How could I deny my queen and waste her precious blood?"

"Go on." Jocelyn raised her arm, glancing away. "Take as much as you like."

Aerion sighed as he opened his eyes and slowly opened his mouth, inching closer. He took a bite with his fangs, tearing into her flesh and draining her blood. Jocelyn bit her tongue and yet didn't make a single sound of pain. The vibrant and lively glow in his eyes slowly returned as his face regained its godly beauty. The picture of the frozen and withered ghost faded with every second, replaced by the peerless God from before.

Once Aerion was done, he used light magic to heal Jocelyn's wounds meticulously... leaving not a single trace of his feasting.

"That's the Aerion I know." Jocelyn smiled, pushing down her sleeve and covering the arm which Aerion had bit from. "Jaime would've hated to see you like that too... I know that much for certain."

"It doesn't feel right to me." Aerion shook his head, taking a deep breath. "He gave away his life... while I... what did I give to him?"

"He died how he wanted to... fighting for you and completing his duties as a Kingsguard. Asking that question is an insult to his honour, his loyalty and the bond you shared." Jocelyn Baratheon replied, looking up at the sky. "Besides that, you gave him the highest of honours and now his name stands right beside yours. Even if he were to never return, his memory will be immortal... and so, he will never truly die. He will forever be known as the greatest knight to have ever lived."

"That's the least that he deserves." Aerion agreed, tilting his head. "And yet, everywhere I look, his memory haunts me. The great hall, royal apartments, Kingswood... every last memory is so vivid and real as if it had only happened a moment ago. A reminder of what was... and a reminder of what had happened to him. A constant reminder of my failure."

"Those memories ought to be cherished and his sacrifice honoured." Jocelyn Baratheon countered, shaking her head. "You can't hold yourself accountable for everything that happened. You shouldn't pit all the blame and guilt on yourself."

"If I don't hold myself accountable... who ever will? Who would even dare to think to do so? Who can? The one man who I trusted to do so is dead." Aerion questioned, frowning slightly. "The truth is that my ambition and desire for more, greater things, led to this. If I had never left, none of this would have ever happened. Ser Jaime would be alive and well, my Empire wouldn't have suffered all those rebellions and its people wouldn't have paid the price for my actions. That is the truth... and no amount of sugar coating from you will make me see it any different. Don't bother."

Aerion walked past her, descending down the tower.

"Who can…?" Jocelyn Baratheon muttered, observing his back. "I can… I will do it."

Aerion paused, glancing back.

"Love is blinding, sweet Jocelyn."

"It only means that you matter to me more than anyone else. It only means that I understand you and your desires as if they were my own. It was you who taught me everything, after all." Jocelyn took a step forward, her gaze unwavering. "If you ever lose sight of yourself, I'll be the one to remind you and hammer you in place."

"... Spoken like a woman who loves to be on top."

"I'm dead serious," Jocelyn retorted, her voice firm as thunder cracked in the sky. Her eyes glowed with a luminous gold hue.

Aerion looked up, then turned around with a grin, drawing his sword Ambition.

CLANG.

Jocelyn manifested a warhammer out of stone, blocking Aerion's slash. Spikes emerged from the ground beneath him, forcing him to move. He ascended to the skies only to meet lightning from above and below.

'Not bad,' Aerion remarked.

He raised his right hand, forming a wall of air that engulfed Ambition in fierce flames, blocking out the lightning. Jocelyn channeled her magic into her warhammer in response, and lightning boomed across the region as a luminous golden dragon spread its wings behind her.

"A valiant effort," Aerion chuckled. "But do you think that will be enough?"

"We'll have to see," Jocelyn replied, determined.

She threw her warhammer, but Aerion dodged it with ease.

"That's a little disappointing," he remarked.

"Is it?" Jocelyn raised an eyebrow as Aerion descended.

"Quite so," Aerion said with a smirk.

CLANG.

Aerion dashed forward with his blade, and Jocelyn blocked with another stone warhammer. But as Aerion channeled more magic into his sword, Ambition grew stronger and cut through Jocelyn's stone. However, she quickly created a dozen layers of stone walls around the top of the tower, trapping Aerion inside.

Then, the walls opened, revealing a raging warhammer descending from the sky, the same one that Aerion had dodged earlier.

"How clever," Aerion observed.

BANG.

The tower remained standing, but Aerion was gravely wounded. His left arm had been crushed, electrified, and separated.

"I might have overdone it," Jocelyn remarked, biting her lip. "You're not too hurt, are you?"

'Poor arm,' Aerion thought, examining his wound. 'On the bright side, I will learn how long it takes to recover from such a wound.'

"You're rather reckless with your magic," Aerion remarked, glancing at his regenerating arm. "Reminds me of another Geomancer I fought before. I only used master grade spells, darling... while you went straight for my head with everything you had."

"I strengthened the floor beforehand. Besides, you're the one who decided to fight here." Jocelyn retorted.

"True enough… the test got a little too intense." Aerion raised his right hand as several mystical, ghastly, crowns hovered over his head of various colours and elements. "Magic is a lot like a witch's pot. The more strange ingredients you throw in, the more brilliant and unique the result. Of course… this is slightly more dangerous."

"You're going to make a weapon out of what was your arm?"

"There are few greater wonders than my own body… if any. It would be a waste to leave my arm on the ground."

All of the blood from the arm and even the ground began to gather before Aerion. His hand was torn apart into smaller pieces, moving forward to form something else entirely. Jocelyn Baratheon stepped forward and added her magic vitality to the mix. Pyromancy, Hydromancy, Necromancy, Aeromancy, Cryomancy and blood magic all danced in chaotic harmony under Aerion's will. Through this enormous cloud of magic, Aerion formed the foundations of a warhammer… its very shape. Jocelyn's Geomancy then fortified this foundation, solidifying its state.

It was as black as the night except for the red markings which rose from its very core, the blood of the Dragon.

"It's lacking… in spirit."

Aerion drew out a soul of a most fierce, colossal, and ancient dragon of Valyria… adding it to the weapon's core. At the head of the hammer appeared an eye similar to a dragon's soon after.

"You're making it in your own image." Jocelyn remarked.

"Feel free to contribute, my magic vitality is yours to command." Aerion offered his hand.

Jocelyn grasped it and their magic joined together.

The black spikes at either end of the hammer turned golden, along with all the blood markings.

"It's lacking… in fury." Jocelyn altered his earlier remark, refining the warhammer with a surge of Electromancy. With both Aerion's and Jocelyn's mastery joining together, a strange anomaly occurred as the lightning around the warhammer turned golden.

After further adjustments, Aerion's arm along with a surge of a myriad of magics had truly been converted into a weapon. And… well, it was formidable, to say the least.

Jocelyn Baratheon grasped the finished product with a smile. The warhammer surged with magical power, pulsating with every passing moment. The golden dragon eye at the head of the hammer was closed and yet it still carried a dreadful aura… the dread of the day that it would open and tear the sky apart.

"It's not quite yet perfect but it's nothing a little refining can't change."

"Now that… warhammer can pose a threat to me." Aerion observed, stroking his chin. "I wonder how many magical properties it has, all of them? Half? I suppose we'll have to see in the future."

"Every great weapon needs a name. What shall we call it?"

"The Aerionhammer." Aerion chucked, shaking his head. "Imagine you're swinging my hand every time you wield it."

"... That's a ridiculous name."

"It's your weapon, you choose the name."

Aerion turned away and yawned.

'... This is more than just a mere weapon.' Jocelyn observed Aerion's fading figure. 'It is the entrustment of a sacred duty. To protect that which is dear, to crush one's enemies and to face even you… if the day ever comes. Though, I don't think it ever will…'

'Faith… that will be my warhammer's name.'

~

As Aerion drifted off into sleep after plenty of action with his queens, he saw visions that were similar to before. He saw glimpses of Jaehaerys the Wise, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen (his ancestor) … and even further this time, witnessing all of the books he'd read through in flashes. He saw a glimpse of many other kings and great Targaryens… though, the longest of these instances was a face similar to Aegon Targaryen's. And yet… he carried the Targaryen banner in reverse.

It all ended when he saw a forest with thousands of men surrounding a lesser force. Arrows flew, dropping soldiers in armour he knew rather well. These were Lannister men. Aerion raised an eyebrow… and then it flashed forward to a golden individual carving a path of blood to the Stark banner ahead.

Aerion's eyes widened as he instantly recognised the golden figure.

The scene turned to flame and left Aerion bewildered.

'Jaime… Robb?'

'In what world would they fight each other?'

'...'

He took a moment to let it sink in as he opened his eyes. He spread open his left hand, observing the Ring of Time and Space. A slight smile appeared on his face.

'I see… it is fated.'