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The Bloody Prince: HOTD SI

Born as a result of the one and only union of Rhea Royce and Daemon Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen would be born into a world on the verge of a deadly war. Desperate to escape the upcoming conflict, yet with every passing second, he would continue to get more and more engrossed into a conflict that could end a dynasty that had ruled for a hundred years.

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Chapter 21-Belief and Reputation!

Chapter 21

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

The grief from her mother's death still lingered heavily in her heart. A few days had passed since the funeral, as Rhaenyra found herself all alone in the castle that was her home. Riding on Syrax, watching knights spar, and all the other activities that lit up a fire in her heartfelt dry and brought her little to no joy.

The whole castle shared in her grief, and there was palpable tension in the air. Tension she associated with the loss of her mother. Her father had also secluded himself in his chambers in mourning, and she had heard that he had canceled all the Council Meetings for days since the funeral.

In that pit of grief, she turned toward the glimmer of hope as she recalled a long-forgotten conversation with her dearest friend. And so, one day, she rose early in the morning just as the first rays of the Sun cut through the darkness of the night and turned towards the servants.

"I want to go to the Sept," she asked, and their surprise was rather apparent, for she could be accused of many things, but being religious was not one of them. And yet, for some reason, Alicent's words from way back then still lingered on in her memory.

And speaking of that friend, she had been rather absent for the last few weeks. A servant had come and told her that Alicent was sick, down with a fever, and thought it best that the Princess did not visit her lest she catch on the illness.

Though she doubted she would miss her visits to the Sept, and in this way, she would also get to meet Aegon, who had been sparse as well. He did visit her, but even he seemed tense and lost, for some reason.

"As you say, Princess. " Soon enough, she was draped in a modest dress and left for the September. Her heart thrummed in her chest, a sense of unease and trepidation gnawing at her as she stared at those doors. And then, with a final sigh, she pushed open the doors and walked into the massive September.

Being this early meant there was no one in the sept, with only the septas doing the cleaning. It was empty, except for a solitary soul sitting there infront of the candles, praying.

Alicent was here.

She walked upto her, motioning for the servants to stand back as she walked upto her friend, who was so engrossed in her prayer that she missed her approaching her, and to her surprise, she saw two guards sitting on the benches beside her, two Hightower guards who seemed rather well armed for a simple patrol duty.

"I knew I would find you here," she whispered as she knelt down beside her and saw Alicent finally open her eyes as she looked towards her.

"Rhaenyra," she seemed to gasp out, seemingly taken aback as she saw her gulp down nervously, and she did not miss how she instinctively reached for her neck for some reason. And her choice of dress was odd as well.

It was summer, yet she wore a winter dress that covered even her neck. Yet she did not care too much. Maybe it was because of her fever.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, for Alicent seemed too awestruck to speak up. Her words broke her out of her trance as she nodded.

"Better," she answered quickly as she wet her lips and then found her eyes falling to the ground.

"I apologize for my absence in the last few days. I should have been there by your side..." she began, and Rhaenyra cut her off.

"It's fine," she said reassuringly as she gripped her hand and smiled.

"You need to take care of yourself first," she said and Alicent nodded as she gave her a fragile smile before turning to look up at the statues of the Gods.

"So, what brings you here to the Sept," she asked her, and the truth was that she was not so sure herself.

"I don't know," she answered as she followed her gaze. She looked at the statues of the Seven and gulped down nervously.

"I just felt so alone and wanted to talk to someone," she answered, and Alicent's lips thinned.

"Even if I was ill, there was still Prince Aegon," she answered, and she shook her head.

"He has been distracted as well. He came, of course, every day, but he seemed heartbroken and tired for some reason," she answered, remembering the dark circles around his eyes and how he would seem rather weary, as if weighed down by a heavy burden.

"It was another reason why I came here," she continued, turning towards Alicent.

"Perhaps you can tell what is going on with him?" she asked, and her friend seemed to hesitate for some reason as she answered.

"I am afraid I am not as close to the Prince as you think," she said, and there was a bit to her tongue. Anger as she mentioned Aegon's name for some reason, and more than that, the whole statement was a lie

Of everyone in the castle, she was the closest to him. And yet, for some reason, she either did not know or did not wish to tell her.

"Are you sure?" she asked, glancing at the Sept, knowing that they would often meet here, and yet there was no sign of him here today.

"As I said, I am afraid I cannot speak to what goes on in the mind of Prince Aegon," and there it was again. The hint of indifference in her tone, as if she did not know him. Something was wrong here, she knew, and yet she did not wish to push as she turned away from her turning towards the candles.

"You once told me that you came to the sept when you missed your own mother," she asked, and at that, her friend nodded.

"I did," she replied softly.

"Here I felt as if I could talk to her again, that she was not so entirely gone," she finished before she picked up a stick and held it towards her.

"Perhaps you could try so yourself," and despite her intentions, she hesitated at the offer, thinking of it all as a farce.

As she was about to shake her head, Alicent softly held her hands and looked into her eyes.

"Try it," she said.

"If not for the Gods," she continued.

"Then for me," she offered, nodding as her lips quivered. He took the stick and lit a candle.

"Now what?" she asked, and she smiled encouragingly.

"Close your eyes," she said as she turned away from her and did just that.

"And speak," and so she slowly brought her hands together as Alicent had and closed her eyes and let the world around her vanish as she thought of her mother, of her gentle caress around her face, about that teasing sift through her hair as she began in her heart.

'I miss you....'

'I miss you so much....'

0000

AEGON TARGARYEN

Aegon sat on the bench away from the training grounds as he watched men spar. For the last few days, he had been coming to the training grounds to spar, to try to keep his mind away from all the troubles he faced.

And yet, there was nothing he could do. It had taken him a whole day to find a guard who could tell him exactly what had transpired between Daemon and Alicent, and he had been heartbroken. When he asked Daemon to console the King, this was not what he had in mind, and yet things settled down this way.

He did not know what Daemon had said to her, to make her react so aggressively towards him, and yet it all really mattered. She hated him now, considered him someone worse than Daemon.

And for some reason, it hurt a lot more than he ever thought it would. Then there was the issue of the Vale, Jeyne had written to him about the escape of Arnold Arryn, and how she had an ominous feeling about the whole affair.

Many in her own court spoke that the man had thrown himself out of the sky cells and had committed suicide, yet he did not believe that. The sky cells were brutal, and those who wanted to kill themselves would do so in the first month.

Arnold had been there for years now and had not killed himself. Why would the man jump now, after so many years?

And so, he would much rather believe that the man had escaped, and that had severe implications for Jeyne. If he had been in the Vale, he could have searched for the man himself through his powers, yet he was here, and leaving at the current moment would have seemed impolite.

Yet if he let this go, then there could be trouble. The Eyrie was the most impregnable castle in all of Vale, if it was any other enemy, he would not be so worried, for no foreign enemy could ever hope to take the castle.

Yet Arnold knew of the castle's secrets, knew of all the paths leading into it, and that made him a formidable foe. And though he had rid the castle of his sympathizers over the years, one could never be sure when it came to greed and ambition.

"You seem rather contemplative," a voice interrupted him and his thoughts, and he looked up and found a very thin man staring at him. His dark hair curled and fell down his face, covering his eyes.

He wore simple clothes, yet his most distinct feature was his leg, which twisted at the knee, bending unnaturally, forcing him to use a cane to walk.

And a chill went down his spine as he felt those eyes land on him, as he pointed to the seat beside him.

"May I sit," he asked politely, and Aegon's gaze narrowed as he nodded.

"You may," he said, and the man plopped down beside him, his disfigured foot-dragging on the floor.

"I believe I may have you at a loss," he began as he turned towards him.

"I am..."

"Then you are a man better informed than many," he repeated as he put forward his hand.

"I know who you are, Lord Strong," he cut in and felt it, those beady eyes widening as he heard him identify him. How would he not, for he was there, in his dreams, hidden away, obscured as a demon unlike any.

"I am afraid you are wrong about the title. Lord Strong is my father. I am simply Larys. Larys Strong," he said. He offered him his hand, and Aegon took it and shook it.

"I have wished to meet you for quite some time, my Prince," he repeated, and Aegon raised a brow.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Because despite your nature, you are amongst the most powerful men in the realm. Many think it is a virtue of your blood and position, but they are wrong. So, very wrong," he said as he smiled at him, his teeth white glistened in the sunlight.

"Your father is the King's brother and heir, his position made much stronger by the late Queen's demise, and yet even his power pales in comparison to your own," he repeated, and he shook his head.

"I am afraid you are wrong. I have no such power you speak of," and the man chuckled.

"Oh, there is no need to lie, my Prince," he added, and Aegon gulped.

"You essentially rule over all of Vale in all but name. The Blue Jeyne they call her had offered you her own hand before you came here," and Aegon stilled at that, his hand inching towards his blade.

"And now you are second in line to the throne itself. Many even consider you more suited for the throne than your own father," he scoffed, not backing off despite seeing his hand on the sword.

"One does not become so influential without some deliberation," he repeated, and Aegin ground his teeth.

"What do you want, Larys?" he asked.

"From you nothing," he said as he was taken aback by his words.

"Didn't I say you quite fascinate me, my lord? Few pay attention to the little cripple brother of the Great Harwin Strong. My father often forgets that he has a second son, yet you did not," he said as his eyes widened.

"You see me. You see everything," he finished, and Aegon knew that he had to get away and that he was being toyed with.

"I believe we have talked enough," he said, picking up his sword and standing up. Just as he had taken a step, he continued a bit louder this time.

"Sending Daemon back to the King from the brothel was a great move," and Aegon's feet halted at that.

"If the Rogue Prince knew any better, he would have made much of the opportunity you gave him. And yet, Otto Hightower may not wield a sword as well as Daemon Targaryen, but he is far more ruthless than him," Larys finished, and Aegon looked at him with a side glance.

"You will soon realize that one must not underestimate the power of a few well-placed lies. That you cannot win this game alone," he continued as he placed his head on his cane and smiled wildly.

"Prince Daemon made a mistake laying a hand on the Hand's daughter," he jested, smirking at the wordplay.

"And Otto Hightower will have his revenge, and he has already made his move. But no worries, my Prince, I will help you. I shall be your ally in all this," he repeated, and Aegon ground his teeth.

"I do not need your help," he said and walked away, hearing only a whisper from behind.

'Off, but you do. You do. And I shall help you. After all, you are the only one who sees me. Me.'

0000

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Daemon had been away from court for a few days dealing with a group of bandits that had run away from the city. After the depressing atmosphere in the castle, going out on a hunt like this was a good respite for him, allowing him to get away from all the sorrow and sadness in the Red Keep.

He was sure that his little warning would hold, and despite her father's pressure, Otto's little daughter wouldn't be approaching the King anytime soon. He had left a little moment on her neck that would make sure of that.

And yet he was surprised when his campaign was suddenly interrupted by a retinue from the castle, one led by Ser Harrold Westerling, his brother's captain of the Whitecloaks.

"My brother wants to see me," he asked as he read the missive, and the man nodded.

"Yes, my Prince. The King wishes to see you at once. We rode for a day and a half to make time," the man replied, and he frowned, not realizing what this all may be about.

"So be it," and with that, he rode with them, thinking about what this all may be about. As he was walking through the Red Keep's Halls, he entered the King's chambers excited that his own brother had called for him. Yet as soon as he entered his chambers, he saw an angry Viserys pacing in the room.

"You called for me, brother," he began softly.

"Do not call me that!" Viserys immediately roared, making him frown, for he did not know what he had done to deserve this hostility.

"Do you have any idea? ANY IDEA OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE DAEMON!" Viserys spluttered loudly, his face flushed, and Daemon's anger simmered as he found himself getting accused without reason.

"I am afraid not," he retaliated.

"That night! That night, I had thought that you had finally turned a new leaf. That you were finally becoming a real man. You came to console me, checked up on Rhaenyra, and I thought finally! My brother has come into his own, and yet I was wrong once again," Viserys finished as he plopped down on the chair, leaving him standing there.

"I am yet to hear of the crime you accuse me of," he taunted.

"You wish to make me speak of it. Speak of what you did to Otto's daughter," and his hunch was correct. That cunt was behind this, that damned cunt and his equally cunt of a daughter.

"I did nothing. I just scare..."

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" Viserys's roar was maddening, and he saw his grandfather's face as he looked him in the eye.

"You violated her! Defiled her virtue," and he stilled at those words, at the sheer accusation.

"I did no such thing!" he roared back, realizing just what he was being accused of.

"Do not lie to me. You were drunk when you came to me. I could smell it to you both the wine and brothel you were in before coming here," Viserys accused.

"I tolerated your behaviours despite the complaints from Vale and the other lords, for I thought you were better than this. And yet you spit on my generosity..."

"I DID NO SUCH THING!" Daemon screamed as Viserys became quiet.

"I cannot even imagine you would accuse me of such a thing," he spoke, rage fuelling him, and yet he could see it, see it in his brother's eyes that he did not believe him. That he believed him truly capable of that. Of that.

"Yet why would Otto lie to me about it? Lie to me about the shame of his own daughter?" Viserys asked, and the lack of trust made him furious, and yet it was not the first time. Had it not been the story of his life, his own brother shifting him from one position to another, never trusting him, never believing him.

Had it not been the same when he was removed as Master of Laws and then as Master of Coin?

A small chuckle escaped from his lips at his brother, and if this was how low Otto was willing to go to hurt him, then he would replicate it.

"And so, what if I helped myself a little," he scoffed as Viserys's face paled.

"She should be happy that I considered her wort..."

"Finish that sentence, and I will forget that you are my brother!" Viserys's voice made him stop, and he saw Viserys rubbing his head.

"If you even make a whisper about this, I will make sure that you will never call yourself a Prince anymore," Viserys warned as he rose from his seat and threw a scroll toward him.

"Thankfully for everyone, I was able to broker a solution that satisfied and protected everyone. And you will abide by that. Your King commands it," Viserys said as he ground his teeth and picked up the scroll.

"And what solution is that?" he asked.

"You need to leave the capital," and he was stilled by those words. The missive in his hand was crushed as he heard him continue.

"To not let it all turn into a scandal, it will be claimed that you are going to war in the Stepstones. I will make the announcement in the morning."

0000

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