A Good First Impression

"Don't you dare return to me with another scar." Arianne softly brushed her finger across the scar on his left eye.

Aerion smiled and looked into her dark eyes. The aura around him was confident and reassuring like no other, almost overflowing with charisma.

"No simple man can kill me, Arianne. Even if there was such a person, I wouldn't enable them to do so. I have many things to live for, after all. The realm, my mother, family... and you, of course." Aerion removed her hand and pressed his lips against hers, leading to a rather lengthy kiss.

Arianne softly took a step backwards and blushed slightly. "You've grown into quite the seducer, haven't you?"

"I learned from the best." Aerion chuckled. "Anyways, wounds such as scars can be easily healed with magic. Not that anyone is swift enough to cut me... that is."

Aerion turned to face the gate. "I'll be going now."

"Take care, Aerion."

'I will.'

"I won't be long."

Aerion's heavy, scaled, boots echoed across the main hall, stopping suddenly when he had reached the high doors. Then, after a simple push, the light of the sun shined upon him. He observed the walls of King's Landing and their surroundings for a quiet moment. Not much had changed from yesterday.

The sky had grown grey, shrouded in dark clouds of uncertainty. It looked like it was going to rain heavily with frequent strikes of lightning from the sky... as it had for the past two weeks or so. This weather had become ordinary once Robert Baratheon's army had camped a good distance away from King's Landing. With such unfavourable conditions, the army did not march and instead waited for a better day. That day had yet to come.

There was a day where Robert's patience had run short but it came at a loss of over two hundred men within a few seconds. After seeing so many men fall so suddenly, he retreated back to the camp. It was as if the sky itself was against Robert's army... and it certainly was, in a way.

However, it was not the will of nature nor the gods who had halted Robert from moving a single step forward.

It was the calamitous Dragon Emperor Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen.

'It is easy for the prince to call the spears, but it was the children who would pay the price every time. For their sake, a ruler should not call war without a good cause and a strong chance of victory...'

Aerion recalled the words of his wise uncle, Prince Doran. The power of a Grandmaster was immense... god-like, even. If he so wished, Robert's entire army could be swept away within a very short time. But his quarrel was not with the good, honest men who had been forced to participate in the conflict and fight hard to protect the Realm from the Ironborn invaders. It was with the person who commanded them.

Quite a number of people had been waiting for Aerion at the entrance to the Red Keep. The Kingsguard, Helia, Oberyn Martell and Viserys.

"The loyalists have been awaiting your command for quite some time, Your Grace. Would you indulge them on this fine day?"

Aerion looked at Helia, who had made a swift bow. "Ser Arthur and Helia, I want you both to mobilise a decently-sized group of elite Soul Knights in preparation for a potential battle. You will move out towards Robert's camp once I give the order."

"Understood, Your Grace. We will be going now."

"Are you certain that the Usurper wants to fight you? Honestly, you haven't even given him a chance to state anything." Viserys inquired.

"It doesn't matter in the slightest whether or not he wants to fight me since…" Aerion's violet eyes glowed bright, even in the day, as he firmly grasped the grip of his bastard sword, Ambition.

"I want to fight him."

"Huh… I see." Viserys nodded lightly.

~

Some men impatiently waited for their sharpened weapons to have any real use, especially those who had come from Dorne. Despite numbering only ten thousand, the sons of Dorne were all well-trained warriors with a fiery appetite for battle. Others… well, they were a little more hesitant at the thought of a life-or-death confrontation that would last quite a while. However, the sweet words of their lords were enough to convince them to march into battle when the time came.

As Aerion casually walked into the camp, he had observed the vast number of unique banners which were mostly overshadowed by those of the Great Houses. The golden lion of House Lannister, golden rose of House Tyrell and the pierced red sun of House Martell… the most surprising and conflicting appearance was, of course, that of House Lannister. Aerion would have much preferred if Lord Tywin had sided with Robert to make things less complicated… but the thought of Tywin unconditionally bending the knee was quite amusing, too.

"Where have my lords gathered?"

"Allow me to show the way." After a nod from Aerion, Oberyn began to lead the way.

"So, what do you intend to do with the old lion? Burn him… throw him in a snake-pit, stab him a hundred times, a slow death with poison… I can think of many punishments worthy of such a man." Oberyn, who was quite passionate about exacting the vengeance of Elia's other children, stated.

Jaime glanced at him, yet he did not have anything to say regarding that matter. What his father had done was undeniably unforgivable in the eyes of House Martell, Targaryen and Aerion himself.

"His time will come."

Aerion's answer had a tone of mystery that both intrigued and reassured Oberyn who smiled in response. As they continued to walk through the hordes of soldiers, the subject changed to something more pleasant.

"You've grown since I last saw you in Sunspear, it seems."

"And you're still the same poison-loving viper I remember. By the way… how are my cousins doing? Have any of the older ones found a spouse yet?"

"You know how us Dornishmen are… we can't settle with just one partner."

Aerion chuckled in response. "Arianne and I have been doing well in that regard. You've been doing well too… the last four of your children all came from the same paramour, after all."

"Ellaria is one of a kind, Aerion. I was fortunate to have found her when I did."

"She is not all that beautiful, attractive… yes, but not above you. Honestly, I wonder how she managed to enchant someone as wild as yourself, uncle." Aerion inquired.

"How should I say this... " Oberyn briefly halted and faced Aerion. "If you only lust after a woman's body, then it is not 'true' love. It is passion."

"I love Ellaria in all ways… but there is something that she has that every other woman I've been with lacks. She is strong, brave, adventurous but, above all that… she has a gentle heart that warms my own."

"I see… quite intriguing that a warrior would find love in a gentle heart."

'... Could my love for Arianne be built from lust and nothing more…?'

Aerion pondered in his mind, although he quickly dispelled that thought after Viserys spoke.

"Is a military camp really the place to be talking about love… just before a battle?"

"Viserys, don't be a party crusher. Perhaps, you're envious because you've yet to find a pretty lady who isn't a whore?" Aerion jested.

"Hmph… I don't have time for courting. It's far easier to buy a whore and be done with it. I'd even dare say that whores have a lesser upkeep than your pretty ladies."

Aerion pondered for a moment.

"You might have a point there… but you're not that tight on money, are you?"

"I'd rather invest that additional gold somewhere else."

"Fair enough." Aerion shrugged. "You know, I probably will put some effort in finding you a nice lady."

"What about Ser Jaime, has he bedded any women?" Oberyn asked, slightly intrigued. "I hear that Aerion's Kingsguard have more freedom in that regard, so perhaps you have…"

"He has, but it was before my grandfather had died." Aerion replied.

"Oh… who's this secret lover of the golden Ser Jaime?"

"It is none of your concern."

"It is a great secret of his, uncle. Depending on how he wants to deal with the matter, it might not remain a secret for too long, however."

"Hmph…"

"If you want, I can remove all your obstacles with ease," Aerion whispered to Jaime. "The man is a useless Tully anyway."

"We've almost arrived, I believe," Viserys stated as he looked at a large group of men adorned with various house sigils guarding an enormous camp.

"Indeed, we have." Aerion's expression grew more stern as he approached the camp and entered the camp. All of their heads turned to him within a short while. They were the most prestigious and powerful out of all the other loyalist lords, who had not been given the honour of sitting at the main table. After all, a lord who can provide say a hundred swords is quite irrelevant compared to the many others who have summoned over five hundred.

The two most influential lords at the table were Mace Tyrell and Tywin Lannister, both lord paramounts of one of the two greater Kingdoms of Westeros. The Reach was very fertile and could call upon seventy thousand swords while the Westerlands were by far the most well-off in terms of gold and were strong military-wise as well.

Once, these lands had united against Aegon the Conqueror… now they stand beside Aerion, alongside Dorne who simply refused to kneel to the Conqueror and remained defiant for many years.

Aerion, in his black plate armour, did look quite menacing. The glare in his eyes was cold with dread yet fiery with wrath at the very same time. What would one call that… cold rage? The scar across his left eye had left quite an impression on the lords, almost making them forget about his heavenly appearance. Not to mention his height and overall strong frame.

His eyes immediately narrowed onto the man who was undoubtedly Tywin Lannister.

He drew Ambition and ignited it with a burst of ferocious flames before raising the radiant sword and smashing it against the middle of the table in one elegant, fluent strike. The flames exploded in both directions and were especially strong in the direction of Tywin...

They abruptly stopped inches away from burning him instantly.

Most of the lords had dashed several steps away from where the now incinerated table had been in fear of the flames. Although he had flinched, Mace Tyrell remained in his seat.

"Hmph, this shows that some of you loyalists don't have faith in me."

Aerion chuckled, shrugging as the drops of sweat from his lords fell.

"Fair enough... I can be quite the dreadful Emperor at times."