Interlude Nineteen

Eighteenth day, Seventh Moon, 260 AC (+27 days)

He tried not to cringe under that look. That look of disappointment.

Even as his uncle gave him that look, indignation burned at him. Who was he to look down on him? His uncle married a commoner and gave up the throne. A commoner.

Uncle Duncan sullied himself, and the family, and still managed to look down on Aerys.

"I captured the island," said Aerys, refusing to budge from the point. It was a very good one. "I did what I set out to do, and I have captured this pitiful rock for House Targaryen."

Uncle Duncan sighed again. "It's not that you captured it; it's the cost. There was absolutely no reason for you to do what you did."

"The scum resisted, and so I had to cut them down. It is as simple as that, Uncle. I had to maintain the reputation of our House."

"Our House must inspire confidence, not desperation," he replied. "Rushing about like a headless chicken does not reflect well upon us."

Aerys felt his face burn. "My plan was genius, and though some of my commanders failed to live up to expectations, it still succeeded. I had even planned for some failure," he added the last, quickly, as it just occurred to him.

"You took major losses! You lost members of the nobility from some of our strongest supporters! The only non-Crownlands party that accompanied you lost almost half of their number!"

"Half of those who landed," Aerys corrected. An important distinction.

"Which was most of them!"

Aerys shrugged.

His uncle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you even know why your plan failed?"

"It didn't f-."

"It did," interjected Duncan, cutting Aerys off. "I've had my men question what few prisoners we have. The pirate in charge of this island was cunning and sought to be brought into the Kingdom. He spent all his wealth hiring mercenaries, filling this island with men as much as possible, so that it would be impossible for anyone to land. He spread them out and waited. Once we came and found that we could not land, he would send out a messenger to pass his offer. A peaceful transfer of the land, in return for being granted lordship of the island, and knighting for his top men."

Aerys was stunned. "That – that was his plan? He wanted us to raise pirates to nobles?! What a fool!"

Uncle Duncan gave him a new variation of the disappointed look, but this one was definitely the lesser. "It was a plan the King would have accepted."

Aerys was flabbergasted. "But plans have already been drawn up as to the possible lords of these islands!"

Uncle Duncan shook his head softly. "Lad, it matters not. It is more important to fully capture these islands before the might of the Nine comes to bear upon us. If that means giving up this small, unimportant rock, then so be it." He sighed again. "Aerys, you need to look at the larger vision."

Aerys snorted. "Like you did with your wife?"

Duncan's face tightened. "Boy, I am trying to help you. Insulting my wife and trying to throw my own past in my face only harms you. Will you be a man and sit down and listen? Or shall I send you back to King's Landing, with your tail between your legs?"

He ground his teeth as he visibly settled into the chair. Aerys rose an eyebrow as if to say, 'there! I am listening."

His uncle rolled his eyes. "Your attitude does little to help you either. As I was saying, the Nine, regardless of their name, are no joke. They have amassed considerable power, and we need to solidify our hold on these islands so that we can bring our own power to bear. If we can do that, then we shall have our battle from the legends – a clash of titans. The chivalry of the Reach, the foot of the Stormlands, and all the power of our Kingdom crashing against the hordes of Essosi in the Disputed Lands."

Aerys' eyes were wide at the description. "Like a battle from the Age of Heroes."

Duncan snorted. "Better, for none have ever truly attempted anything like this, though one of the Stark ancestors razed Andalos." Seeing Aerys shift uncomfortably, Duncan continued, "Yes, you will have to make amends to the Starks and bannermen. Not in a way that emphasizes your mistake, but in something that appreciates their efforts and sacrifice." Duncan hummed, considering the proposition. "We can claim that there were good spoils on the island and give them a large portion."

"But there was nothing here! Just some coin here and there."

"Exactly. So, the prize shall come from you directly."

Aerys was aghast. "I have nothing to give!"

Duncan smiled. "You do; you have your own income from the King, as well as quite the collection of prized horses and armour. I'm sure something suitable can be found."

"But that is mine!"

"What part of the term 'punishment' is unclear to you?"

"It's not the term, but the why," he muttered.

"Oh, you will have time to reflect on that, have no fear. For this is only the first part of your punishment."

Aerys' head snapped up. "What?"

"You will still be knighted," Duncan confirmed. As Aerys felt some of the tension drain, Duncan continued, "But you won't have a command again in this war. You shall shadow others and learn from them."

Aerys' face flushed. "I know what I am doing!" he protested.

"Doubtful, as it turns out, few of us have been correct in our assumptions. We are behind our schedule, and we draw ever closer to the time when we fight the Nine, and we have yet to capture the entire island chain."

"I could have been more of a help with that."

"If you cared to pay attention to the details, then yes, you would have been a help. You are a smart boy, Aerys, but your head is in the clouds too often."

Aerys shrugged. He disagreed, but no one ever seemed to believe him. They would see eventually, though. The campaign in the Disputed Lands would be his chance to shine – and it would not be denied to him. Tales and legends of his battles would be sung for generations, and from that, he would secure his power for when he was King. Roads would be named after him, canals would be dug, and Jaehaerys the Conciliator would be the second most loved King.

Uncle Duncan looked up from the map that was splayed out before him and said, "Soon, I shall return to Lord Baratheon as we capture the last few islands along the northern chain before I join the Reach contingent as they move into the Disputed Lands. You shall join me for the first portion but stay with Lord Baratheon when I leave."

Before Aerys could protest, Duncan cut him off. "No, it is not up for debate. More mercenaries are arriving daily to fight us, though none of any renown, and it won't be long before we have some real fighting on our hands. The Tyroshi navy has started to menace us as they pull away from Myr, but they have been elusive and keeping only to skirmishes against us and the Braavosi. The Ironborn, in turn, have started to raid Tyrosh Minor."

"What news of Myr itself?"

"Still fighting, though the city is almost completely surrounded. They have managed to secure a single land route into the city, along the shore, and as Tyrosh has shifted its navy away, they have started to secure the sea around them as well."

Aerys' eyes lit up. "Shall I go there instead? Save the city and crush the slavers?!" Aerys the Savior. Aerys the Slaversbane? Aerys the Brave.

Uncle Duncan's fist slammed on the table, shaking Aerys from his thoughts. "Pay attention, boy! There will be no fool ideas! No harebrained schemes to see glory at the cost of this endeavor! The King was explicit! We both have sons to return to; would you never see your child again?"

Aerys shrugged. The child was loud and messy, and not much to care about.

Uncle Duncan sighed again. "Fine. Go get ready to leave. We are leaving at the turn of the tide."