Queen

He eyed the large pouch of coins he had in his hands in slight amazement. He'd taken second place, so there was coin from that. But more interestingly, the King's 'Best Joust of the Tourney' held weight.

Almost 600 golden Dragons in weight. Enough to buy a fine house in Essos, or a modest one in King's Landing. His grip tightened around the bag, this was enough to travel the Seven Kingdoms.

He had a dream last night. 

He was on an island, weirwoods surrounded him. He thinks he was a hare or some kind of rabbit. It wasn't a chaotic dream, it was peaceful…he…he knew where that was.

The Isle of Faces.

He thought about Garrett, thinning his lips before he stood. His mind for but a moment going back to Rhaenyras offer the previous night. Part of him wanted to go back and beg for the position.

It would be amazing. 

But what would he be? Just a footnote next to her name in history.  'Aerion Rivers, briefly a bodyguard of Princess Rhaenyra'

That grated him, he wanted Legacy he wanted to be akin to Brandon The Builder, Ser Clarence Crabb, King Tristifer 'The Hammer of Justice'. He wanted to be more, he wanted people to talk about him in 200 years, he wanted to live on even after death.

His grip further tightened around the bag of coin before he tossed it carelessly onto his desk, the thud and clinking of metal bounced around the small chambers. He left his room in haste, making his way to Lord Bracken's chambers.

He eyed the familiar Bracken guardsmen outside of the door and gave them a nod. He took a deep breath, before he knocked two times. A short pause and the door opened Lord Bracken eyed him in confusion.

"Ser Aerion, what is it you need lad?" The Lord asked, a small smile on his face that Aerion reciprocated.

"My Lord, as you know, I've come into some coin of late," he began. "With your leave, I'd take Garrett and myself through the Riverlands. We'll keep clear of mountain clans and the like, but the journey would be a great—"

"Of course, lad!" the lord agreed with a broad smile. "A knight and his squire, off on the road!" He chuckled before he paused for a moment as if thinking. "Wait here, I've something for you." With that, he turned and disappeared into his chambers.

Aerion eyed the chambers for a moment, the big room was generously decorated. Essosi rugs, a large wooden bed with expensive fabric curtains. Before he could continue his assessment Lord Bracken returned, a small coin pouch in his hands.

"This should cover Garretts cost" he said, Aerion blinking in surprise as he received the purse of coin. 

"My Lord, there is no need-" 

"Ah, Ser, think nothing of it. Just a bit to see you through, and perhaps some left when you return," he laughed. "No doubt the bandits of Stonebrook will breathe easier knowing you're on the road."

"I'm sure they will be My Lord, thank you" he said bemused, as he eyed the coin pouch. "We shall leave with your retinue and divert when we come across Harrenhall" he informed as he took a step back.

"Sounds great Ser, now if you will?" He asked, Aerion nodding and leaving with a smile, the door closing behind him.

—-

"Come," he said to the boy lagging behind, keeping a close eye on him. This was the Street of Steel, loud and bustling, but still part of King's Landing. No matter how grand the Red Keep seemed, Aerion didn't trust the city.

He'd heard the rumors, and flown over the city in his crow at night. King's Landing was dangerous, especially for children in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Garrett was clearly tired—he'd been at the feast last night and stayed up far too late. "Of course Ser" the boy murmured as he followed the older boy. 

Aerion placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him into a nearby shop, the noise of the street dimming as they entered. The smith approached curiously, eyeing the pair. "What d'you want?" He gruffly asked.

"A sword, for the lad" he said, Garrett's eyes widened as he looked up at Aerion, his exhaustion vanishing as he straightened.

"Sharp?" The smith asked, usually kids this young would be given blunted ones for training. 

"Sharp" Aerion agreed, the smith nodded. 

"Le'me get a few measures, then," he said, grabbing a wooden stick with measurements carved into it. Aerion stepped back as the smith quickly measured the lad's arms and shoulders.

The smith hummed as he stood back. "We ought to get him a shortened half-hand sword," he said, thinking aloud. Seeing Aerion's clear confusion, he explained, "A half-hand sword, scaled down for a lad his size, so he can swing it proper."

"That sounds good," he agreed. "When should that be completed?" He asked. The smith seemed to think for a moment before responding.

"Two days," the smith said with a nod. "Half now, half on delivery?" Aerion nodded—he could do that.

"Right, how much now?" Aerion asked the negotiations now beginning.

—-

Aerion was a rat, running through King's Landing. This place was a cesspit—scum roamed the streets without fear, and the gold cloaks were bribed with meagre amounts of coin. Was this just because of the sheer size of the city, or poor management? 

Both?

Thousands of rats roamed in this accursed city, children didn't even flinch at the sight. They were used to it, they were used to smell of shit, piss and blood. They just walked through the city, heads down and their pace quickened. 

He'd never been a man of the people, he'd never really cared too much about the people of Stonebrook. Yet this tore at him, frayed his nerves as he eyed the golden cities underbelly. 

He knew it would get worse too, right now he was just surface level. Once he delves into this city…the horrors it would reveal, something beneath this city was dark, evil.

He knew it, could feel it in the very air surrounding him. 

His crow cawed, the sound echoing through his soul as he suddenly woke. His eyes snapping open, his gaze locked onto the hard ground beneath him, his hands clutched desperately around the Weirwood roots.

His gaze snapped over to the approaching person, not who he expected. Her black hair, braided, ran down her back, and she wore a beautiful, expensive blue dress.

Princess Rhaenys.

The Queen who Never Was and The Rider of Meleys.

He stood steadily, as to not alert the guard stood quite a few paces back from the woman. "Princess" he acknowledged as he bowed his head deeply. She didn't seem surprised. A warning bell rang in his mind.

"Ser Aerion, correct?' she asked, her gaze unwavering. She said his name too quickly. She knew it already—was she just confirming, or did she know more than she let on?"

"Yes Princess" he replied, his mind racing as his eyes focused on her. 

"Your performance in the tourney was quite remarkable," she said, tilting her head slightly, her eyes fixed on his face with unnerving intensity as she stepped closer.

"Thank you, Princess," he replied, feeling like a rabbit caught in a hawk's gaze.

"Unseating a Kingsguard is no small feat," she said, taking another step, her gaze scanning his face as if memorising it. "Stories about Ser Aerion the Young are already spreading across the realm" 

Aerion wanted to take a step back, but instead he swallowed. Why was she so interested? "The young?" He asked, that was news to him, he'd prefer something more…unique. 

Rhaenys hummed "You're a bard's dream, a dashing, young and dangerous bastard Knight." Her casual words grated him but it didn't show on his face as he simply nodded.

Rhaenys regarded him with an intensity that seemed to thicken the air surrounding them, the silence of the once peaceful garden now felt suffocating. 

"Aerion" she said, but not to him, more as if she was tasting the name on her tongue as another brief silence surrounded them. Her eyes narrowed, her purple eyes meeting his.

"That's a Targaryen name"

Her words sent an odd chill down Aerions spine, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wished to grab his sword and defend himself from her words. He swallowed before he responded, his heart beat thrumming in his ears.

'They'll kill you'

"My mother must have been inspired" he replied steadily, his voice hiding the sudden fear that gripped him. 

"Oh, so your father didn't name you?" She observed, taking another step closer as her eyes seemed to pick his features apart. 

"I don't know, I never met him" he responded, he so desperately wanted to step back from the woman. 

"That's interesting" she murmured before her eyes snapped back to his own. "You can go now" she commanded, Aerion taking the opportunity as he turned to leave.

"Your performance was very Brave" she shot at his retreating form, her emphasis on the word Brave chilling as he left the garden, a chill running down his spine.

—-

Thoughts on this proposed direction of the story? Seriously I need to hear em 🫵