"It's an honour, I know" Aerion said, his uncle stood across from in his armour, his helm under his arm as he stared at his nephew.
"It is" Garth said, the whinnies of nearby horses seeming to pierce the privacy of the tent. Dozens of Jousters were here, their horses left in stables.
The joust had ended not twenty minutes ago, his uncle had quite easily got into the final stage, that would be happening tomorrow.
"What should I do?" Aerion asked his uncle with a pinch of pleading in his tone. His uncle hummed as he started to unclip his breastplate.
"I think it's a very…wise choice," his uncle said seriously. "I would be happy to see you serving as a houseguard" Aerion clenched his jaw as his eyes flicked around the tent.
That wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.
"It's the wise choice" Aerion repeated slowly. His uncle nodded and hummed.
"But I know you, you are young" Garth said "you seek to find your place in this world, where you belong and maybe, you don't belong as a houseguard, maybe you do" he said with a shrug, Aerion was about to speak but his Uncle spoke up again.
"But you won't get worse with a sword as you grow, I'll talk to my brother, make sure it's an offer that stays open." he said seriously. Aerion felt an odd wave of relief crash over him at his Uncle's words.
"Thank you Uncle" he said genuinely, the older man nodded and continued to take off the plate armour.
—-
He was walking through King's Landing, the cobblestones beneath his feet dirty, the familiar smell rancid. The only reprieve was the lack of the sun that seemed to only make this part of the city smell worse.
Though he was walking, something itched at the back of his mind, something was wrong.
He couldn't tell what it was, he glanced around, his nose twitching as he tilted his head. Focused on the familiar suddenly overwhelming smell of prey.
A rat.
His paws gently padded against the ground, a sound not being made as his nose twitched. His lips coming back revealing his razor sharp teeth. The black fur on the back of his neck rising ever so slightly.
Hunger gnawed at him, though it was his own. He eyed a small alley, his senses sharp as he slowed. The loud sounds of the city muted as he focused on the sound of scuttling feet.
He lowered his body to the ground, waiting for the prey to reveal itself.
The scuttling grew louder, his heart pumped with speed that didn't feel natural. His jaw twitched, his muscles tensed like a spring. The rat darted into view, a flash of grey fur, a glint of beady black eyes catching in the moonlight.
He pounced.
His teeth sank into flesh, the rat screeched its body writhing violently. The taste of blood dripped down his throat. The rat quickly falling silent as its struggles faded.
Instantly he started to tear, his teeth digging into the animal, blood covering his maw as his claws held the prey down. The sounds of flesh, fat and muscle tearing echoed through his twitching ears.
The relief of a successful hunt rushed through his mind, the feeling familiar yet—unnatural as he mindlessly tore into the rat. The crack of a bone rang through his ears.
Then again, the crack, and again, another heart rending crack. His skin started to feel loose, slippery as if it could fall right off, he backtracked his heart smashing against his ribs as an unnatural cold filled him.
He tilted his head, the fur on the back of his neck raised as he snarled, looking around quickly.
Something was watching him, another crack sounded his head swivelling to the source. A shadow, unnaturally lingered, too tall to be human, too thin to be anything else.
It took a step forward, the world suddenly snapping into place.
Aerion woke with a strangled gasp, his body jerking violently. Fingers clawed at his throat, half expecting to meet fur instead of flesh. His skin felt tight, too tight. His bone felt dense, heavy as he shakily stood, his knees almost buckling underneath his own weight.
The taste of something metallic lingered on his tongue, he coughed, the taste not leaving even as he spat on his chamber floor. His breath was quick, shallow as he almost fell, his balance wonky, he stabilised himself gently against a cold wall.
His stomach churned uncomfortably at the memories of tearing away at flesh, the cracking of bone. He shakily placed his head against the stone wall, closing his eyes as he tried to calm down.
A shadow lingered, too thin, too tall in the corner of his vision.
—-
He eyed the pale bark, once again on his knees in front of the tree. He couldn't deny it, he was undoubtedly a skinchanger. That didn't explain his dreams of unfamiliar memories, but it did explain what had happened last night.
He had taken over the body of a cat, memories of blood dripping down his dry throat as he tore away. He could barely break his fast this morning due to the sudden nausea he felt as the memories replayed through his mind.
He's been here for near the last hour, silently watching the tree, he was excited to go home, Stone Hedge. They would leave soon, afterall the tourney ended today, though there was a rather large feast planned tonight.
He eyed the tree uselessly, he just needed to get back to the Godswoods in Stone Hedge, that was where the dreams started. Right now he was just staring at a tree like a fool.
He was about to stand but a familiar voice interrupted him.
"You really have taken a liking to the Gardens" the voice of Rhaenyra Targaryen interrupted his plans to leave. He turned his head, eyes focusing on her form.
She was still wearing those silver rings, her dress now a pale blue the sun reflecting off of her platinum hair almost akin to a halo. A ball of tension lit inside of him at the sight.
An odd necklace hanging around her neck.
"Princess" he greeted as he stayed kneeled, his head bowing "The gardens are peaceful" he lied, his usual expression taking over, hiding the unease and frustration beneath.
She nodded as her lilac eyes ran across the beautiful garden. Her eyes snapping back onto Aerion after a moment.
"Do you pray?" She asked as her head tilted slightly "To the Old Gods" she clarified.
"Yes" Aerion lied "Do you pray? For the Faith?" He asked curiously. She started to walk towards the tree, her kingsguard following dutifully, she settled among the roots, only a few metres from him.
He should leave, he was about to before she arrived after all.
"Not dutifully" she said honestly, opening a book on her lap, flicking to a certain page gently. "I suppose I've never needed too"
Silence, comfortable silence seemed to reign around the garden. The tension in his stomach started to uncoil, feeling quite comfortable in the presence of the Princess.
"You look very tired" her voice suddenly rang out, his eyes flicked over to her. She was facing down at her book, her form half hidden by the large pale roots.
He blinked, his eyes flicking back to the tree as he took a moment before responding.
"Dreams" he said slowly, worried she'd somehow immediately find out what those dreams truly were. "I…I've been struggling to rest" he admitted, a moment of silence following his confession.
The silence held, his eyes flicking over to the Princess anxiously. She was still looking down at the book, but her hand was gently pressed against the page as if in thought.
"I can ask Maester Orwyle to brew something to help?" She said slowly, as if thinking on her own words. "If you need it," she added.
As Rhaenyra's offer hung in the air, Aerion felt a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of his earlier fear. He considered it for a moment before coming to a conclusion.
"That won't be necessary" he said, feeling a hint of gratitude "Thank you though, Princess," he said, his voice softer.
He felt…comfortable, his body relaxed as his eyes stayed on the tree, a glimmer of platinum blonde hair in his peripheral vision.
—
Thoughts?