After dressing himself, Aerion Targaryen got along with his day. He had woken up later than expected so there was no time to stand idle. After all, how could he bear to keep the gentle Lady Margaery waiting for too long?
Before presenting himself, he put on his Crown of Necromancy and commanded for a fraction of his wealth to be prepared while also asking for Ser Arthur to bring Lady Margaery. For the second day to celebrate the three-hundredth-anniversary, he intended to share his blessings with the least fortunate of people.
Dressed in dashing white robes as opposed to the usual black ones, Aerion Targaryen looked more divine and pure than usual. Even his turquoise eyes seemed kinder... although, he couldn't help his towering height being intimidating. He was in a cheerful mood as he entered the great hall through Maegor's Holdfast.
"You look wonderful in white, Your Radiance." Margaery Tyrell remarked with a charming smile, courteously bowing.
"I don't usually wear white as it is easily soiled," Aerion replied, stepping forward as he observed the lady before him.
Margaery Tyrell had grown into a slender but womanly figure with smooth and unblemished pale skin. As opposed to Arianne Martell, she did not have large breasts to boast... in truth, hers were rather small. Her thick and softly curling brown hair was long and matched her brown eyes. She had a shy smile that was almost as sweet as Jocelyn's.
'So shy yet I see that cunning glare...'
"Is it rude of me to stare?" Aerion asked, smirking a little. She always had the fragrance of sweet flowers, perhaps there even were a few on her person.
"Was it rude of me?" Margaery Tyrell inquired, keeping her smile.
"I suppose not." Aerion chuckled, nodding as he was finally within arm's length.
"Then His Radiance can stare for as long as he likes."
"I'd do more than just stare," Aerion remarked in a seductive tone, looking into her brown eyes while also cupping her chin upwards.
"You're a flower I'd like to water..."
"Oh..." Margaery Tyrell was caught unawares for a moment, turning red while her eyes danced around Aerion's dream-like turquoise gaze. "I don't think your queens would be pleased if you..."
"Ashara and Arianne both know how to share." Aerion smiled, removing his hand. "If you can earn their favour, I will make a Queen out of you. Wouldn't you like that?"
"It is the greatest honour a lady can have... to be by the Dragon Emperor's side." Margaery Tyrell replied, retaining her smile. "Rest assured, Your Radiance... there will be no disputes between your queens and I."
"I don't doubt it... anyways, we should get going." Aerion turned to Ser Arthur who was standing in the back the whole time. He nodded and opened the gates of the Red Keep, revealing the sun's radiance.
"I told you that I'd take you out for a walk, after all."
...
Aerion was well aware that the lowest parts of King's Landing weren't the prettiest of places to take a lady on a date... but she was well-versed in such things. As he walked down the streets of King's Landing, many of the smallfolk didn't remove their eyes from his figure while a formation of Soul Knights guarded his path.
Eventually, they reached Flea Bottom... the poorest slum of King's Landing. As he would recall, this district of King's Landing disgusted him the most and the one he least trod upon. He could only count three occasions throughout his life, in truth. This was the fourth.
When his presence graced Flea Bottom there was a moment of silence amongst the poor smallfolk as a crowd began to gather. In Aerion's reign, the lawless Flea Bottom had restored some sense of stability but did not grow much richer. This was because something so lowly was the least of his concerns... but now, he felt generous. He was more capable, too.
"For the longest time... I've only ever used magic to suit my own whims and desires. But a sense of overwhelming guilt has overcome me as I observe those less fortunate than me suffering so much. I have been so very negligent of this district... I admit, it's one of the mistakes of my reign. Here and now, I, your Dragon Emperor, will right this wrong personally!"
He gave a passionate speech like a saint would have... gaining the crowd's favour as he always did.
Aerion closed his eyes as a dense white aura began to form across his entire body. This white aura seemed so holy and pure, providing a sense of hope to all who looked upon it. At that moment... he did look divine.
The white aura grew even denser before beginning to pulsate across all of Flea Bottom and the rest of King's Landing. The aura expanded to its absolute limit, fade and be reinforced by another wave right after. Brilliant star-like particles would dance in the air for moments at a time, spreading Aerion's blessing to all who lived within King's Landing's walls.
All types of illnesses faded almost instantly, broken bones fixed themselves into place, lost limbs grew back, scars were healed, all types of shit turned to flowers, mud and piss turned to pure water... a miracle was occurring.
A crown of silver light formed on top of his Crown Of Necromancy as he continued his purification... disappearing only when he was satisfied.
"My eyes... I... can see!" A once blind man exclaimed in joy.
"My child... is well again."
"You look so pretty now, Bessy."
"I have not felt so strong in years."
"The stench... is gone!"
"Thank you... thank you so much, Emperor."
Aerion smiled watching the once disgusting slum turn to something more pleasant. As for being worshipped, he had started to get used to it.
Margaery Tyrell stepped forward, surprising him when she began to speak.
"If not a miracle, what has His Radiance just accomplished? As I see it, the Seven are alive and they live through none other than His Radiance. He is the finest warrior who has ever lived, a king who strives for the prosperity and peace of his people through just rule and now he has proven that he is capable of granting such blessings. Now let me ask this... when you look upon him, what do you see?"
"God... I see God!"
Aerion frowned a little as the 'God' chants became more prominent but his face softened a while after. If he was proclaimed as a God by others, where was the problem? If anything, it only made House Targaryen and himself more untouchable.
Margaery Tyrell turned to him with a smile.
"How well did I do, Your Radiance?"
"Consider me impressed..."
"Your magic is far more impressive, still." Margaery Tyrell grabbed his hand as she looked up into his eyes. "You have the power to change the world as you see fit. That power should be used more often... don't you agree?"
'Perhaps.'
Aerion was not done with lending a helping hand, however.
"I wish to propose a solution! While you struggle every day for decent food and drink, perhaps to the point of eating the flesh of other men, you could be well taken care of and even paid by a slave master in Essos. You do not need to sell your life away as contracts of various lengths can be decided upon. Now, I know you would not be fond of strangers so I will personally take the role of slave master! So… are you fond enough of Flea Bottom to reject my care?"
'This place clearly needs a full renovation and that cannot be accomplished with the surplus of people.'
"Each adult who accepts will receive the equivalent of a gold dragon and children half that amount. Speak with one of my Knights, who are easily distinguished by their green eyes, if you wish to accept my offer and they will take note."
One of Aerion's Soul Knights dropped a chest of gold onto the ground while fifty others gathered around. "Our Lord presents a gift to drag his people out of the mud and to prosperity. Those who attempt to swindle him will be charged with treason and slaughtered without hesitation. As for those who accept his gift, they will bathe in his care."
'Talk about blunt…' Aerion chuckled, turning around. "Come, my lady. I've accomplished what I sought out to do."
"You do not stay around for long." Margaery Tyrell remarked, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. "If we stay longer, your mark on the people will be deeper and they will be more inspired to accept your offer. You should show them that you are dedicated."
In truth, Aerion wasn't too bothered to linger around but… she was right.
"I'll let you take charge in that case, my wonderful rose." Aerion replied, smiling. "I'm sure you're capable, right?"
Margaery Tyrell replied with a nod and a knowing smile of her own.
~
Aerion ended up spending the better part of three hours in Flea Bottom alongside Margaery Tyrell who took the role of the kind lady. Being sweet came to her naturally, so it seemed. Aerion could be cheerful, yes, but mostly in a jestful manner. Her outward kind disposition and his overwhelming charisma made for a powerful combination, convincing all of the thousands of people in Flea Bottom to accept his offer.
She was brilliant with children, adults and seniors alike… easily swaying all of the struggling smallfolk. She pushed forward the agenda that he was the incarnation of the Seven... a God-like man... which no one denied. This made everyone believe anything they said, more than willing to place their lives into the hands of their holy saviour.
'Perhaps I should take that step at last...'
Once so many agreed, he made his Soul Knights mark each one on the hand and begin escorting them to his ships which would sail for the Step Stones. This great migration would be quite expensive but 'expensive' to Aerion's vast wealth was quite minor. Why the Step Stones in particular? Aerion intended to build a trade port there using the smallfolk as it could serve as a great checkpoint between Essos and Westeros. As for the surplus people, they would be sold off to other slave masters or given the option to be reborn as undead.
The more time he spent with Margaery Tyrell, the more he wanted her by his side. She was a woman of faith, charity and had a shrewd mind that was fitting of a Queen that could rule alongside him... or support him, at the very least. That and her contagious sweet smile which never failed to make him feel better.
When they returned to the Red Keep, they separated as Aerion looked for his brother and Jocelyn. Turns out that there was an intense sparring session occurring in one of the courtyards. Most of House Targaryen had gathered with most of House Stark, House Baratheon and House Martell... it was quite a family gathering, to say the least. Arianne, Ashara, Elia and Daenerys all sat on the same bench while Sansa Stark, Lyanna Baratheon, Jocelyn Baratheon and a seven-year-old Orys Baratheon sat on another.
As for Arya Stark... she was somewhere else. Bran Stark had also taken up archery lessons with Archer.
Lord Eddard, Ser Robbert, Robb Stark and Artos Baratheon were standing together, commentating on the duel. Robbert Baratheon would often taunt both Ser Oswell and Jon Targaryen whenever they made a noticeable mistake. Oberyn, Doran and Viserys were on the other side, also watching alongside the rest of the Kingsguard.
"Sparring in my absence? My heart is forever broken." Aerion smiled, inadvertently stopping the duel as he drew everyone's attention.
"Where were you this entire day?" Arianne Martell asked, glancing at Margaery Tyrell.
"Wooing Lady Margaery, perhaps." Jocelyn Baratheon stated in a playful and blunt tone.
"You... no, I was being a productive Dragon Emperor and uplifting my people." Aerion refuted.
"You're capable of doing both." Daenerys Targaryen added.
"Right... so who's winning?" Aerion turned his attention to his brother. "Is Ser Oswell abusing his undead strength?"
"Not too much." Jon Targaryen replied.
Stepping forward, Aerion grabbed his shoulder. "Why don't we have a little competition between half-brothers? Artos, draw your sword and get over here."
"Hmph." Artos Baratheon stepped forward and drew his blade, standing just as tall as Jon Targaryen despite being a year younger. "I've never fought Jon before."
"First blood wins." Aerion smirked, stepping back. "I got a hundred gold dragons on House Targaryen's very own."
"I bet a hundred on my son!" Robert Baratheon announced.
"I bet on my older brother." Jocelyn Baratheon added.
'They're both... I see.'
"I bet a hundred on the half-Stark," Viserys added, chuckling.
"I bet on the one with dark hair!" Oberyn Martell continued on the chain.
"Well, you can both begin when you're ready."
Aerion sat down beside Arianne and Ashara, comfortably embracing both with his long arms. Not a moment after, the dance between Artos and Jon began. When it began to get serious, Aerion grew more interested. Artos Baratheon was stronger naturally, taking after his father as he pushed Jon Targaryen back. However, Jon Targaryen was more graceful and quick than his stark half-brother... avoiding direct blows with ease.
Their shiny steel swords clashed many times over, moving almost fast enough to leave an afterimage. Their strikes left a wooshing noise as both parties started to try more and began to cut through the air at a swifter pace.
"Come on, Artos. Crush... him!"
The word 'dragonspawn' almost escaped Robert Baratheon's tongue but he stopped himself.
'So we're getting competitive, huh...'
"Jon... take your time, let Artos overextend," Aerion advised from his bench with a much calmer tone. "Baratheons get impatient rather easily so use that to your advantage."
Jon nodded, following Aerion's advice.
However, Artos Baratheon had heard it too and stopped attacking. Instead of being on the offensive, he took note of Aerion's advice. "You attack first this time."
"Perhaps I shouldn't have been so loud." Aerion chuckled. "What should you do when your opponent tries to act composed?"
"Hmm..." Jon Targaryen smiled, taking a page from Aerion's book. "'Ours is the Fury'... isn't that right? I didn't think that a Baratheon would guard himself as a turtle would."
"Taunting? Two can play that game." Artos, in turn, smiled as well. "Your saying is Fire and Blood yet you've yet to spill a drop of my blood. The biggest fire you've lit was the size of a campfire, no doubt as well. I thought 'dragons' were the mightiest and fiercest beasts in all of the world... and here you are, staying a safe distance away from me."
'I'd get wine for such occasions...'
"Perhaps that doesn't apply to a bastard who does not look Targaryen at all." Artos added more spice to his taunt, knowing full-well Jon resented his old life as a bastard.
"Brother, you can't say that... even if you're not serious." Jocelyn Baratheon stated.
"If it's not true... then why should it hurt?" Artos Baratheon shrugged.
"I was never a bastard." Jon Targaryen replied, looking rather calm.
"Then show me the fury of a dragon."
"I will."
Jon Targaryen stepped forward, striking first just as Artos Baratheon had wished. However, when they clashed this time... Jon Targaryen was more focused and relentless. When he fought, he resembled his older Targaryen brother... outclassing Artos Baratheon and parrying his sword to the side. Then, with a simple cut to the hand, he won.
"You held back before then..." Artos Baratheon remarked, frowning a little.
"I didn't want to bully my younger brother." Jon Targaryen smiled, embracing a surprised Artos Baratheon. "We should practice more often... since we're brothers and all. Targaryen or Baratheon, we are both Starks from the same gentle mother."
'Smooth swaying... guess who he learned that from.' Aerion smirked in the background, satisfied with the outcome.
"Jon's completely right." Jocelyn Baratheon hopped off her bench, bringing along Orys and joined the embrace. "We're all siblings."
"Big brothers shouldn't fight." Orys Baratheon stated cutely, his wide blue eyes shining as he hugged both of his brothers. He was rather plump with a cheerful face that would often be stretched by those close to him.
"Brothers..." Artos Baratheon muttered, his hard face softening. "You are right, we ought to be closer especially given the way that things are now."
"I feel left out, Jon..." Robb Stark laughed as the siblings separated. "Where's my hug? Or do you no longer view me as your brother?"
"No, we're brothers from the start till the end." Jon Targaryen shook his head, smiling. "It doesn't matter what our blood says."
"I truly feel left out, now that Robb mentioned the fact." Aerion Targaryen chuckled. "Where's the warm embrace for big brother?"
"Stop teasing the prince... he is clearly occupied." Daenerys Targaryen replied.
"Hahaha... it's been a while since we were all together like this." Jon Targaryen looked at Robb Stark and Aerion respectively. "Why don't we have a young man's night out in King's Landing?"
"Oh, you want to get drunk?" Robb Stark laughed. "I see no issue with it... we're celebrating the three-hundred-year anniversary! Isn't that right, Your Radiance?"
"Yes, we may as well." Aerion smiled. "But dead men can't get drunk..."
"Who gives a damn... you can still smile and laugh just like any live man!" Robb Stark countered, offering his hand.
"Heh... fine. Don't forget to bring along the Baratheon." Aerion looked at Artos Baratheon, lifting himself up using Robb's hand. "He's almost a man himself."
"He's not old enough to drink, is he?" Robb Stark glanced at Jon Targaryen and Artos Baratheon.
"My father allows me to." Artos Baratheon shrugged. "I do not see the issue."
"And his mother does not." Lyanna Stark sighed, shaking her head.
"Go, have your fun!" Robert Baratheon smiled as his eyes met with his son's. "You will not be so young forever."
"... Let us venture out, in that case." Aerion Targaryen nodded. "Ser Robert's wine storage is still quite endless so we can start there."
"Wow... and what about my sparring sessions?" Jocelyn Baratheon pouted a little.
"Tomorrow." Aerion patted her head with a smile. "I promise."
"Alright, then... remember, you promised."
"I always keep my promises."
"And- you have an announcement to make, I believe." Jocelyn Baratheon smiled, grabbing his hand.
"An announcement... right." Aerion glanced at Robert Baratheon and Lyanna. "So... I've come to a mutual decision with this wild princess here. From henceforth, Jocelyn Baratheon and I are bound to each other and will marry when seen fit, however no earlier than her sixteenth nameday."
'I see... so it really happened.' Viserys Targaryen chuckled, clapping. "May the Houses Targaryen, Martell, Baratheon and Stark finally be united as one through His Radiance and the Princess Jocelyn!"
"I suppose it is a good day for the Realm." Doran Martell nodded, clapping along.
"Another beautiful future wife for my wonderful nephew!" Obery Martell clapped even more enthusiastically. "I see that he is expanding his tastes beyond just Dornish women!"
"Oberyn... don't embarrass yourself," Doran replied, sighing.
"Welcome to the family, Jocelyn." Daenerys Targaryen smiled. "You will have the Targaryen name soon enough."
"You'll make a wonderful Queen." Ashara Dayne joined Aerion Targaryen's side and embraced Jocelyn Baratheon. "I can see it already."
"Aerion taught her well." Arianne Martell did not disagree.
At that point in time, Jocelyn Baratheon was the centre of attention and even she got a little flustered. No one seemed to be against the marriage... as a matter of fact, the cheers were pretty loud. Surprisingly, Elia Martell did not find an issue with it as Aerion guarded Jocelyn like his own sister... so she inevitably gave in to her sweet nature. As for Lyanna and Robert, they were both happy. This betrothal was one of the few things they mutually agreed on.
Sansa Stark was rather envious on the inside but she kept her smile.
"That makes you my brother in a way, Your Radiance." Artos Baratheon remarked with a strange smile.
"It does." Aerion nodded. "I suppose we should host a celebratory feast instead of drinking in our lonesome... this is, after all, a royal marriage."
...
Another feast was called upon, where he had all five of his interests sit close to him. Once he swayed both Arianne and Ashara, he prepared to shoot all three arrows at once as his entire court gathered.
Aerion stood up, his act gaining everyone's attention.
"Times of peace and prosperity bring people together as love blossoms under the warm light of the Summer days. Many admirers come to me and were rejected all the same... but, alas, there are three that I cannot keep out of my heart anymore."
"Lady Margaery of House Tyrell, Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen and Princess Jocelyn of House Baratheon... I hereby betroth all three of you to me!"
Aerion's declaration led to many cheers, claps, smiles and laughs.
"The Dragon Emperor wishes to live well, it seems, hahahaha."
"He has earned that right."
"Does he intend to complete the eight in the future?"
The following day, Aerion drew up his plans with Viserys in a small council meeting and he agreed to oversee the Stepstones and King's Landing projects. The dragonpit would be erased by Aerion himself and replaced with a royal Targaryen bank alongside a Citadel for King's Landing. Flea Bottom would also be completely renovated with better housing, more job opportunities and a more sophisticated sewage system, leading to the talents of Tyrion Lannister being called upon by his father who knew he was experienced. Also, Aerion singlehandedly created a few more river streams that would better serve the upcoming sewage system.
Of course, all of this would only be complete in five to ten years... but the plans for it were all there.
As for his practice with Jocelyn Baratheon, it would go as well as one would expect it to. Only the Kingsguard would be spectators for this great display of skill...
"Let's see what the little princess is made of." Aerion drew a wooden sword and taunted. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
"Hmph... I've been practising on my own, you should know."
"Oh? Then give it your best shot..."