The Dragon Reborn

Since Viserys Targaryen took the Iron Throne, Aerion had no desire to clog up the royal apartments and instead took his family to Sunspear which, in his opinion, was far more pleasant either way. It had water gardens, an inviting smell and the air was always so warm. Perhaps that was just his bias towards the place he spent most of his childhood talking...

It was also because Arianne would be the Princess of Dorne after Doran... or perhaps the Queen of Dorne was a more fitting title now. Either way, he thought no place more fitting than Sunspear.

After everyone was settled, he gathered his Kingsguard at the Tower of Joy where a sworn brother was once burried.

...

As he could recall, Ser Gerold Hightower 'the White Bull' had died because of him. Or so, he would always blame his death on his lack of strength. If his magic had been better... then... it did not matter anymore. Ser Gerold died an honourable death, completing his duty.

All six of them, even Robert Baratheon, stood silently around his place of burial. If one were to dig it up, there would surely still be a white cloak with the sword of the great knight who wore it.

"A fierce and honourable man, Ser Gerold was. Even in his old age, he was still one of the finest knights in all of the Realm." Jaime Lannister broke the silence, honouring his predecessor with a speech. "He died with dignity, protecting his prince and fellow sworn brothers in battle. There is no more fitting end to a member of the brotherhood than that... far better than growing too old to fight."

"Agreed." Ser Barristan nodded.

"He could have still been with us." Ser Arthur replied. "That man was still so mighty strong... I don't think old age would've ever beaten him. At least, he would have fought it long enough to be reborn."

"Then Ser Jaime would have never been our Lord Commander, would he?" Ser Oswell Whent added.

"I would give my title to see him alive." Jaime Lannister then countered. "But... I prefer to think that he rests easy now, proudly watching from above."

"If I was strong enough, he would still be alive." Aerion Targaryen spoke, his eyes focused on Ser Gerold's grave. "However, I must agree that there is no point to dragging him out of the grave. He has long since completed his duty and should be honoured with an eternal rest."

"I did not know him well enough to say much." Robert Baratheon suddenly spoke, having allowed everyone else to speak out of respect. "But he has my respect."

"I wish for a moment alone." Aerion spoke, leading to his Kingsguard turning around and walking some distance away. When they did, he lowered himself slightly.

"I still remember when I asked you to throw me in the air... ah, but then grandfather caught you doing that and I got you in trouble. He wasn't too harsh on you, I hope. It was such a simple thing... but grandfather treasured me well, almost as much as Viserys back then."

He still remembered those long blade-like nails of his... oh, they were just begging to be cut! No one dared, though.

"When I lost Aegon and Rhaenys, I promised to be stronger so that I could protect those dear to me. But I failed again and again and again... I was just too weak. That is the reason why so many of my Kingsguard are now dead. I, too, have died... and it does not feel so marvellous. Yet my fallen Kinsguard smile all the same, carrying out their duties without fail..."

"I will forever honour their efforts, as I do yours of the past, by being a worthy Emperor."

~

By now, everything was prepared. The plot of land where Aerion's Valyria would be built upon was well secured with an entire fleet that carried a vast range of building materials. He had found the red woman, too, and invited her to Volantis. Her body suited the Tome of Hematomancy's requirements, if anything… but he wanted to see what she had to offer first. Perhaps R'hllor was the answer he was looking for all along.

Although, he wasn't too keen on placing his hopes on a god...

After an afternoon of overseeing Jocelyn's training and reading dark tales of the Shadow Lands, Aerion had observed that she has been acting strangely. As if she had a little secret she wanted to tell him… but didn't want to tell at the same time. He knew what that secret was, in truth, and had already spoken with the spirit beforehand. The tome was left open in his study, clear as day where Jocelyn had collapsed… it didn't require a genius to know what happened.

"It seems as if you have something to say to me…" Aerion Targaryen decided to speak on the matter. "Don't be scared and let it out. Hiding things from me is only to your detriment, Jocelyn."

"Well… it's something about a Tome of Hematomancy."

"It was left open." Aerion Targaryen nodded, his turquoise gaze observing her expression. "As I thought, she gave you her blessing. You know… doing things like that behind my back isn't wise."

"I…"

"You should have told me before doing anything." Aerion's tone grew cold with fury, although for good reason. "What if she decided to possess you or perhaps even choose you as her vessel? I wouldn't be there to do a thing about it..."

"Well… I didn't think that you would keep an enemy in your own study." Jocelyn Baratheon replied. "Although, I should have told you about it earlier…"

"How troublesome children are…" Aerion sighed, shaking his head. "You likely got enticed by the spirit's sweet words and nodded along to everything she said. Then, you didn't want to admit to a fault so you kept it hidden… isn't that right?"

"Well…"

"I thought as much. You are fortunate that she did, in truth, grant you the gift of magic without any strings attached. However… the next time you do something that may very well be dangerous, you tell me first. Is that clear?"

"Clear as glass." Jocelyn Baratheon nodded.

'Right… for some reason, I don't believe that.'

"Jocelyn… you are far too precious to me to throw your life away. Remember that, if anything."

He left it at that, making Jocelyn Baratheon a little flustered.

~

"You're retiring already, old man?" Aerion japed, watching a rather pleased Doran smile.

"It is time for Arianne to take my seat." Doran Martell nodded. "Better now than later, I feel. She will still have me if needed… but I have utmost confidence in her abilities."

"It feels like you are closer to passing away, now more than ever," Aerion remarked with a saddening tone. "I… fear that time will be sooner than I want it to be."

"As time passes, new flowers will rise in the place of the old. It is no different with men, Aerion. You will see many lord paramounts and lord magisters come and go in your time. Perhaps too many, in truth."

"None as important to me as you." Aerion added. "I will be forever grateful for your protection, teachings and wisdom. While Ser Jaime taught me to be a warrior, you taught me to rule…"

"I taught you the principles to follow but you found your own way." Doran Martell replied. "That is what makes a good King, the ability to learn and take advice from his subjects while also maintaining a sharp decisiveness."

"Heh... yes, a King who has no mind of his own is no King at all." Aerion nodded.

"You've grown so much..." Doran Martell remarked, smiling as he grabbed his shoulders. "I cannot be prouder of the man that you've become. My only concern is the number of Queens that you intend to court..."

"Don't worry about that, uncle. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?"

"Certainly."

~

Early into the second moon of 300 AC, Volantis.

Aerion had welcomed Melisandre, the red woman, to a hall that he had reserved for himself. It reminded him of the small council chamber, although a good bit larger. As before, her appearance did not fail to stun him... even when he was undead. Aerion had a thing for large breasts and Melisandre was no exception. Her sun-kissed hair, red eyes, red robes... all that red seemed to ignite a flame.

The charm that she had left on his heart quite so long ago hadn't faded.

"So it is true," Melisandre spoke, observing his turquoise eyes and white skin. Naturally, Aerion had olive skin... so this new change certainly stood out. "To forge Lightbringer, you sacrificed yourself instead of the one you love."

"Is that nobler than what Azor Ahai did?" Aerion Targaryen wondered, his eyes narrowing on the red woman. 'I would have rather burned the world than seen those dear to me die...'

"Is it noble to place others before yourself? You are the noblest knight of all... the holy hero who defeated the Great Other and ended the Long Night."

"And now that this great task is complete, what does Rh'llor have left for me?" Aerion, amused, inquired.

"What do you see in the Lord of Light's flames?" Melisandre replied, not exactly giving a proper answer. So was the case with priests and priestesses of unreliable Gods.

Aerion opened his palm as brilliant scarlet flames emerged, lighting the entire room. It was a relatively small fireball that flickered above his palm. He stared at the flames, intent on seeing something. It seemed quite a pointless endeavour at first... but then, once he had been completely drawn to the dancing flame, he saw it.

"I see more conquests to come... worlds upon worlds, all falling to the same black dragon," Aerion remarked, trying to interpret more. "Perhaps, R'hllor has nothing to do with any of this. Perhaps I am simply seeing what I wish to see."

'These are not his flames and they never were. They are my own.'

"Tell me, red priestess... can R'hllor return the life that I gave to save his world?" Aerion finally asked, changing the subject as he closed his palm and the flames vanished.

"Only if R'hllor still has a need for you to live."

"I take it he does not." Aerion chuckled, shaking his head. "That is fine too, I have other ways."

"What a useless god... what is a 'god' who cannot protect his own people and relies on worshipping mortals to do his bidding? As I see it, he is no more than an elaborate figurehead." The Tome of Hematomancy spoke, mocking R'hllor as blood spilt out of its pages. "The Dragon Emperor does not live or die at the whims of anyone else, be it man or 'god'. His destiny is his and his alone."

"In the end, your lowly R'hllor will realise that truth and bow his head in humility."

Aerion did not intervene as he watched the spirit's blood engulf Melisandre and consume her whole. As a matter of fact, he seated himself on the table, observing keenly. Once she had completely taken her body... Aerion saw a rather authoritative glare that softened just as swiftly as it appeared.

"You lied to me... this hag is older than the trees." The spirit remarked, sighing. "She may look young but that is precisely how she deceives and charms young men like you."

"What do you mean?"

The spirit took off Melisandre's amulet and dropped it to the ground, leading to a vast change that occurred almost within a single blink. She looked old and haggard now with wrinkles all over. Her grey hair was long but few, clearly balding. Her body was also thin and crooked... overall taking the appearance of an old witch. The once noble, smooth and proud breasts that were... they were not spared either. Sagged, ugly and completely undesirable! Yes, this was precisely how Aerion would imagine a witch to be.

He was... horrified. To think that he once wanted to take her to bed... or contemplated it, at the very least!

"Put it back on." Aerion turned away, refusing to see any more.

"Not so keen on fucking this red priestess anymore?" The spirit asked, cackling in a witch-like manner. "What a shame..."

"I said put it back on."

"Hmph, I don't need such a deceiving necklace to retain my youth."

The spirit replied, drawing power from her Tome. Its vast ocean of power seemed to erupt towards her and Melisandre's youthful appearance returned after a moment of rebirth... fully. No, she didn't quite look like Melisandre. She seemed to be many times more bewitching, retaining all of the red aspects of the vessel while having an irresistible aura about her. He saw something else, too... strength.

Her presence felt just as strong as his own.

"You have found me a worthy vessel, sure enough. Her red features can resemble blood just as well as fire. These breasts are plentiful, too."

"Does that... really matter?" Aerion finally turned around, taking a few unapologetic peeks.

"Hmph, don't men pride themselves over the size of their cocks? It is much of the same regarding a woman's breasts. Although, even if the vessel was lacking, I'd be able to compensate for it once my true body is fully restored."

"You have not told me your name, spirit. Or do you not have one?"

"Yes... I suppose you cannot call me 'spirit' anymore." The spirit smiled, walking over to grab hold of her Tome. "I once had a name that was known all too well. My adversaries dreaded me as the 'Blood Goddess' but my worshippers called me Bellona."

'A Goddess?'

"How do you find yourself sealed in a book, 'Blood Goddess'?"

"The world is full of envious beings," Bellona replied. "Kings, Emperors and Gods alike feared what they could not control nor destroy. When they heard the bells of imminent chaos, they rallied against me. I had slaughtered so many of them, drowning the world in blood... but it was never enough."

"They never managed to kill me... so they resorted to sealing away my power. Alas, their ploy was successful and I was taken away to the deepest depths. But then, someone took me away. That was how I found myself at that tomb, in a separate world. Whoever had taken me... would make the 'Gods' of my world seem like lowly mortals."

'My alternate, future self...'

"So I take it that you are a 'God' in regards to Blood Magic?"

"In regards to sheer strength, no... but I was as invincible as a Goddess could ever be. I still am despite my diminished power, for that matter." Bellona proudly remarked, turning to Aerion. "The truth is that all of the 'Gods' and 'Goddesses' were all Emperors who were mighty enough to flaunt themselves as divine beings."

"I see..."

"Do you know what it means to be a God in any type of magic? A King could influence a kingdom, an Emperor could influence a continent... but a God? A God's magic, no matter its nature, would be able to influence all of the world at a moments notice. Engulf it in flame, turn it to ice, curse or bless... all of life would have no choice but to bend to a God of Magic's will."

"Sounds like a worthwhile goal to strive towards," Aerion stated, nodding as he listened carefully to every word. 'The God of Magic...'

"You and I have the same mind on that matter, Dragon Emperor." Bellona replied, opening her tome and holding it in her right hand. "So... are you prepared for your rebirth?"

"Why so sudden?" Aerion grinned a little, observing her expression. "Perhaps, you'd fancy my living body's blood once more..."

"Smart child... you are entirely correct." Bellona nodded, admitting to it as she licked her lips. "I sorely miss its majestic, regal, fierce yet delicious taste..."

"You-" Aerion glanced away, feeling an overwhelming surge of desire overcome him. It was like a spell that compelled him to move forward... but he resisted it.

"When I taste another's blood, all they ever do is smile... even if that moment was their last. That 'possessive' power is one that you will possess yourself after your rebirth. Given your own natural charm that is magic-like on its own... my, oh my, you will be quite a dangerous bloodsucker."

Aerion was not fond of the thought of drinking another's blood... it was beastly, barbaric and absolutely beneath him. But, alas, he was willing to lower himself if it meant being truly alive again. If it proved to be too unbearable, however, his sword was always a reliable last resort.

"How will you do it, then?"

"Lay down on that table, facing upwards. Get comfortable while you're at it." Bellona commanded, noticing his suggestive expression after. "Yes, I intend to fuck you."

"Is that a case of sarcasm?"

"Can an undead man's cock even rise?"

"... Well, anything is possible with magic."

"Hmph... just do as I say."

Aerion chuckled, laying down on the table. Surely, she could have chosen a bed instead... but the table served its purpose.

"Place both of your hands on your chest, close to your heart, and channel Electromancy across your entire inner being from that point."

'Simple enough...'

Aerion did as told, closing his eyes as he focused solely at the task at hand. Electromancy began to course through his entire body, forcing the heart that was once dead to beat again.

Bump... bump...

'Pardon-'

Someone had joined the table and sat on top of him, pushing their lips against his. When Aerion opened his eyes, he observed that Bellona was the one who had surprised him...

And so, as his mouth opened to hers, newfound blood began to flow into him like a waterfall. With every passing moment, he felt more of his body come alive. From his heart to the thing between his legs, he was feeling alive!

His once completely pale skin began to regain its colour and the once turquoise eyes that could not decide their colour... turned to an ethereal violet tone once more.

When Bellona released herself from him, the rebirth was complete.

Aerion Targaryen rose from the table, confident as ever. While Bellona's act had certainly enticed him, he was far more pleased with his own rebirth. Instantly, he felt a desire to feel the cold breeze of the night.

...

He went out into the outskirts of Volantis with a good crowd of people unconditionally following him. Well, more accurately, he invited them to see his little show of strength. Vermithor descended from the skies and landed before Aerion, his black majestic appearance blending in with the night sky almost too well. His dark emerald tone had certainly stood out more, almost glowing. In terms of size, it was now a grown dragon that only continued to slowly grow overtime. Its most impressive traits, other than the three heads, were the dragon's shrewd intelligence, extreme manoeuvrability, searing flames and vicious bite. In regards to sheer combat ability, perhaps even Balerion at its peak, who was many times larger, would have fallen victim to the three-headed beast.

"Vermithor... exhibit your fury!"

Aerion's commanded, leading to Vermithor standing up for a moment before lighting its father up with three waves of flame at once.

Alas, he remained unburnt despite Vermithor's efforts. Only his clothes had burned away... revealing glimpses of his body. However, the dancing flames covered most of his person anyway.

'I... haven't felt like this in a long time.'

Aerion smiled, stretching out his hands as he relished in the flames. He seemed so at ease, leading to him earning the awe of many. When he spoke, his well-loved voice boomed like lightning;

"Rejoice, my dear Volantenes... for your only Dragon Emperor is reborn!"