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HOTD: The Rogue's Son-SI Ch.62
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 08:55:58 +0000 UTCChapter 62
Miles and miles away, in the Sealord’s palace of Braavos, word about the demise of Lady Jeyne Arryn reached Nesteris Varga, the Sea Lord who sat with twenty-three people, sixteen men and seven women, each of whom had a key hanging down from their necks.
These twenty-three men were the infamous key-holders of the Iron Bank, descendants of the very people who had laid the foundation for the institution that now ran the world.
“The mission has failed,” began the Sea lord, as he addressed all of them.
“The attack of the Prince’s child was a failure. In his stead, we have killed but a simple, useless woman,” There was frustration, rage, and trepidation in that tone as he looked at the twenty-three others sitting down in his manse.
“Not entirely,” began a woman, cutting through the silence.
“I am told that this woman was a prized companion of both the Prince and the Princess. I believe her death might produce a result even better than the death of a young Prince would have done,” and there were many frowns at her words.
“How?” another one of them.
“For now, the Lord Paramounts will speak up, if not for gold, then for their own safety, now that the war has claimed one of their own,” and many nodded in agreement.
“It was a mistake,” another voice cut in, this one aged and tired as they all turned towards the oldest person in the room who sat hunched in his seat.
“Provoking the Iron Throne in this manner was a mistake. If the Crown ever learns of our involvement in this plot, it would unravel centuries of work,” and another voice cut in.
“We had no choice.” This one was much younger and energetic.
“We had to act. We cannot let the Iron Throne gain a foothold in lands across the Narrow Sea. It would give them too much power!” and indeed, especially if they were able to maintain that hold.
“Maybe, but this is a mistake. A mistake I tell you, for if our plot is uncovere....”
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MYSARIA-The Lady Mysery
Kingslanding had rarely been so quiet as it had been for a few weeks now. The once-joyous and bustling capital was now quiet and dull as it mourned the loss of the jubilant and kind Lady of the Vale.
She doubted that perhaps even a thousand of the commoners, populace could identify the woman on sight, yet they still mourned her loss. They mourned it, not for who she was. They mourned for their beloved Prince and Princess, and through bards, playwrights, and singers, they all knew the story of the Bloody Prince and his Princess.
Aegon’s childhood tale had been adapted into many plays and songs. It was an inspiring tale, one that was rather famous with the children and the ladies. But now that tale would be lost, and a new song would be sung.
One laced with fire and blood.
Her own brothel was quiet, and it was rare for an establishment like hers to turn away customers. But she knew that he would be visiting her today. The beloved Prince who had not been seen ever since his triumphant return from the campaign in the Stepstones.
In the days that had passed since the ordeal, Mysaria had made it a priority to keep an eye on the Prince, and she had been surprised to learn that the Prince had not yet shed a single tear at the loss of his dear friend.
“So, there is a suspicion that this attack was not as simple as one might think,” he began, as he sat there sifting through the dozens of missives she had obtained about how this attack had been conducted.
“Yes,” she agreed, as she sat down in the chair opposite to him.
“The triarchy made this plan. But we were aware of that,” and they had stopped that, and now either they had a mistake, or there was another power working against them.
“Could it be that we made a mistake?” he asked, and given the pace of things and just how they had been betrayed by one of their own, it was not entirely out of the realm possible.
“I would like to say no, but I can't,” she said, feeling some embarrassment and fear as he tilted his face to look straight at her. His eyes burned with unbridled rage as he asked again in a terse manner.
“With Larys’s betrayal, there could have been a lapse in our working. One can never be certain about such a thing,” but there was some certainty here.
“But it is also true that the Iron Bank has been using its influence to push Lords High and Small to approach the King about making peace with the Triarchy,” and that was what had raised alarms.
“As our allies in the war, this is unexpected,” and then there was some other evidence, mostly rumors about some major meetings that had taken place in Braavos. Meetings where this entire war had come into discussion.
“It is,” he agreed, and then he leaned back as he rubbed his face.
“To think they would backstab me like this,” he began, his tone light and a chuckle escaping as he continued.
“What a man I am? To be betrayed by all those around me. First by my own wife and my best friend, and now my ally,” he said, and there was a hint of self-loathing in his voice as he rose from his chair with a single sigh.
“I have grown tired of it all,” and with that, he gathered up all the missives, crushed them in his hand, and pushed them into the fire.
“Take all our valuable resources out of Tyrosh,” he ordered, much to her surprise.
“All of them?” she asked, for they had spent a lot of gold building these assets within the city.
“All those that are valuable,” and that could mean but one thing.
“You are going to war,” he said, and he had not been deterred. He was at the door as he answered.
“The world has yet only seen my prudence. Now, they shall see my rage....”
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VISERYS TARGARYEN
The entire continent was anxious as it waited for the Crown’s response to the attack. And since then, many discussions have been had as the entire world began to realise the danger they were in.
Braavos, Pentosh, Qarth, and many other cities had sent their representatives, each to voice their condolences and concerns about the conflict between the Crown and the Triarchy.
And not just them, many of the magisters of the Three Cities approached the Crown as well, offering both retribution and peace, lest their cities be spared.
And though he may be King, the decision was out of his hand. The Crown had neither entertained nor rebuffed such offers, and so the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and the whole world awaited their decision.
But they had no need to. For the enemy had sealed its fate the day they had struck the Royal Family.
“So, war it is,” he asked, Aegon, who stood in front of him with his hands folded behind him.
“Yes, war it is,” and he had had expected that. Feared it even.
“The men and the ships are already in place. I plan to depart tonight,” and so it was time.
“Is there anything I could say that would dissuade you from this path of action?” he asked, and the bo—man shook his head.
“No,” and that was expected, and so the King sighed as he motioned for the servant to twist his chair so that he may face.
And the months had aged him years. His once clean-shaven and youthful face was now marred with a shaggy, unkempt beard. His eyes had grown dull, their glint replaced by a rage he had glimpsed in his own grandsire.
“This is not the only way. We have other options. Safer options,” he suggested, as he tried to turn him away from the path of carnage.
“War suits me best,” and yet he was wrong.
“You say that, but the Triarchy is large, and you have but one dragon at your command,” and that was the most troubling part.
“The Velaryons will not join you in this fight, and though I have great confidence in your martial prowess, fighting the entire triarchy on your own is impossible,” and yet Aegon was not be deterred.
“I have no need of Velaryon Dragonriders. I seek no money or levies from any of the Great Houses. This is my war, and I am willing to fight it on my own,” and he was stubborn like Daemon.
“You will lose,” he spoke a bit angrily.
“Maybe, but my mind is made,” and Viserys shook his head.
“You say that, yet you do not even know if it was really the Triarchy behind the plot?” and much to his surprise, he simply shrugged and turned away, leaving behind a whisper.
“I don’t care whether they were behind it or not. I just wish to burn the world....”
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At the Great Isle of Tyrosh, the Tyroshi army stood at the ready. The city's highwalls were fitted with a hundred scorpions and trebuchets, and the Magisters gathered in the city to project their power and unity.
The isle lay surrounded on all sides by Targaryen ships, each ready to mount an attack, yet a parlay was called in hopes that this entire conflict could be avoided.
And so, as the three Magisters came together as a symbol of their unity, their opponent stood alone, facing the three fat and haughty men, who sneered as they began to taunt him.
“Do our scorpions scare you so much that you have not even brought your dragon?” taunted the Magister of Lys in his arrogance, as the young Prince of Dragonstone stood there imperiously, with not a single expression on his face.
“There is still time, boy. Turn back your ships, and enjoy what you lest you lose it all,” and the warning came from the Magister of Tyrosh, and yet the Prince spoke nothing.
“None stand a chance against the Triarchy when it stands united. Even your great ancestors all failed to bring us down. And you are but a boy,” continued Micarso, the fat slave merchant of Lys.
“An army of a hundred thousand strong men waits for you behind those walls, while a thousand scorpions and trebuchets line those walls,” and the three cities had poured all their resources into protecting Tyrosh, to dissuade the Prince from any misadventure.
“This city will become your graveyard. Leave now, and we will forget this all as folly of youth,” and yet to their surprise and trepidation the young Prince spoke nothing, as he simply stood there staring at their face.
The two men turned silent, their faces flushing with rage and humiliation as only the sound of waves and wind cut through the air.
“You took my kin from me, and we struck back. It is time to let this go,” began the leader of the three, the Magister of Myr, and it was but a few minutes after those words that the Prince finally made a move.
And even then, no words escaped his mouth, as the three Magisters all exchanged glances before one of them spoke up in rage.
“Is this it! Did you call us here to ogle at us!” and his words made the Prince stop as he spoke for the first time.
“Yes, I did,” and his words only infuriated them further.
“You insolent fool! Have you learned no lesson! We have offered you terms, take them lest you lose your life!” and then the Prince of Dragonstone finally turned and faced the three Magisters.
“Since you have been so kind in giving me advice, let me give you some advice of my own,” and his words were spoken in a cold and detached manner as he continued.
“I have seen your future,” and his words made the three men frown as they looked at each other, exchanging glances as the young lad finished.
“None of you live to see tomorrow....”
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A few days ago, in Kings Landing, Aegon walked through the massive gates of the dragon pit as the Captain of the Dragonkeepers stepped forward welcome him.
“Have you come for your dragon?” asked the old man, and as he spoke, he turned to his men. Just as he was about to order them to bring out Silverwing, the Prince’s words made him stop.
“No,” spoke Aegon Targaryen as he looked at the man.
“I have come for them all...”
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Comments
FallenMetalGod
Thank you. It looks like it's time for Aegon to bring down the wrath upon everyone. It feels like he's going full nuclear, and I am all for it. Great job as always, and I won't lie, I was hoping that Larys would have been a better ally. I can't wait to see what happens next.
BlackFish
Is aegon gonna warg in all the dragons???
Radiant Tiefling
Thank you for the chapter.
