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Divide and Conquer, Chapter 19: The Cost of War
🕑 Added 2025-06-04 17:04:59 +0000 UTCFirst Moon, 108 AD (7 AC)
Aegon
Balerion roared as they approached Wendwater Bight, the seat of House Wendwater on the mouth of the river from which they took their name. Vhagar, to their left, answered in kind as they converged upon the castle, espying the banners laying siege to it.
Three were most familiar and prominent among them. A triple spiral of red, blue, and green on white, a leaping blue swordfish on fretty silver and white, and a ring of seven seven-pointed gold stars on a field of white. Massey, Bar Emmon, and Sunglass.
After his children had destroyed the three Coalition armies invading their realm, the Stormlands and Reach had fallen into disarray and panic. The Grand Captain of the Faith Militant, the Crown Prince of the Reach, and perhaps most importantly of all, King Argilac Durrandon of the Stormlands, whom many were now calling Argilac ‘the Arrogant’, had all perished with almost sixty thousand soldiers dead with them or deserting into banditry and barbarism, unable to present a true threat any longer.
The Stormlands in particular, with their smaller population had been gutted militarily, unable to recover from those losses. It was a golden opportunity that they could not allow to go to waste.
Which was why immediately after they had dispatched their children to the Eyrie, Aegon and Visenya had flown south to Dragonport and Stoney Sept respectively, ensuring that the defenses of both cities were reinforced and repaired while they had waited for their armies to muster.
Before the war against the Vale had started, they had been able to field five fully trained legions and an estimate of almost sixty thousand in feudal levies, banners, and auxiliaries besides. This of course was excluding the Dragonguard, the Provincial Guard garrisoning and defending Crown Castles and Cities, the sailors and marines of the Royal Navy and vassal fleets, and the minimum garrison and watch the lords would leave in their own castles and towns.
Three legions and twenty thousand feudal auxiliaries had marched into the Vale with them, amounting to some thirty-eight thousand men. Most of those men were still there as many sword hands were still needed to help his children pacify the region and put down Hubert Arryn’s little resistance.
Thus, in order to exploit the opportunity before it went to waste, they had resorted to calling up their remaining forces instead. Both remaining legions were deployed south along with some ten thousand feudal troops while the remaining thirty thousand feudal auxiliaries were mobilized to help Rhaenys crush the rebellion in the Westerlands and reinforce the southern border once Visenya and he invaded the Stormlands.
When all their preparations were complete, and their army had reached a strength of twenty-two thousand, they had struck south from Dragonport and Stoney Sept, converging on Tumbleton. They had established a buffer against the Reach there, calling upon the mobilized reinforcements to garrison the town before sweeping east into the Kingswood.
That brought them to where they were now, having outpaced their marching army to meet up with some old friends and allies. Ever since their days on Dragonstone that felt so long ago now, the Masseys, Bar Emmons, and Sunglasses had been close to their family and to the Velaryons and Celtigars. One of their Velaryon aunts had even married into House Massey, making their current lord and his sister, Triston and Alarra, their first cousins.
Traditionally considered closer to Dragonstone than Storm’s End as a result, in that other world, all three houses had declared for Aegon’s family when he had begun the conquest. And in this world, they had narrowly avoided persecution by the Durrandons for their connections to them, feigning breaking ties while helping to feed their spies information about the buildup of the Coalition’s forces.
It had been part of why Aegon and his family hadn’t really been all that surprised when the Coalition had invaded, despite their hopes that taking the Arryns as hostages might give them pause. They owed at least part of the readiness with which they had faced the invasions to their friends from Massey’s Hook and they had proven their loyalty even more since the Deluge of Blood’s Battle of Blackwater when his ‘twin’ children had killed Argilac Durrandon and destroyed his army.
With the Stormlands in chaos, and the new Storm Queen Argella and her husband – the future Mern X if he lived that long and heir of Highgarden with his father Edmund’s death (also at the hands of the twins) – struggling to control the kingdom, the Masseys, Bar Emmons, and Sunglasses had called their banners.
Argilac had had some cunning and had barely called them to arms, rightfully fearing they would betray him in the midst of battle. This however had also left them with the most intact armies after the devastation at Blackwater and they had begun laying siege to all the neighboring fiefs in preparation for Aegon and Visenya’s arrival.
With Aegon and Visenya marching their army and flying in from the west and the Masseys and the rest coming down from the Hook in the east, what little resistance remained in the Kingswood was soon crushed underfoot, and now House Wendwater was all that remained.
They landed their dragons outside the encampment of the three houses. The soldiers of all three houses were unused to dragons and seemed to shy away, but their lords, Triston Massey, Simon Sunglass, and Gormon Bar Emmon were quite the opposite. They rode out eagerly on their horses and greeted them.
Aegon pulled his cousin and old friend into a tight embrace once he had greeted the other two lords. “It has been a long time Triston,” he said to the Massey lord.
“Too long,” Triston agreed. “It’s good to see you cousins,” he said to him and Visenya.
“It’s good to see you too. So, tell us, why haven’t you taken Wendwater yet?” Visenya almost teased.
Triston shook his head in dismay. “We would if we could. But they’ve been stubborn. Refused to surrender and managed to turn back our first assault. We knew you were coming so we thought it best not to waste any more of our men’s lives when you could have it ended in an afternoon with your dragons. I imagined that you’d much rather have more men alive to garrison the Stormlands’ castles rather than dead to take just this one a little early.”
Aegon chuckled. “You guessed right. You made the right decision cousin. Once we’re all settled here, hail the Wendwaters and give them one last offer to surrender and take the Black. If they don’t, we will burn down the gates and take it the hard way and they’ll all be executed for their defiance.”
Triston nodded eagerly, likely having grown quite frustrated with House Wendwater’s stubbornness. “What are your plans for the region after all this?”
Aegon smirked, knowing what his cousin was really asking.
“As agreed, you, Sunglass, and Bar Emmon will have the rank and title of Defender within our realm. Your lands will be expanded as well, either directly though not necessarily contiguous with your existing fiefs for you yourselves or for other members in your house. Most of the houses in the Kingswood refused to kneel and we are in need of loyalists to take their lands.”
“But not Wendwater Bight?” Lord Bar Emmon asked.
“No. The entirety of Massey’s Hook, Sweetport Sound, and all of the lands north of the Wendwater River will be annexed into our kingdom as the Crown Province of Kingswood. The Crown will need a seat from which to govern the area, and Wendwater Bight will serve that role. It is central enough, and commands the mouth of the river,” Visenya answered.
“In time perhaps, we could make use of the Kingswood more directly. Build great plantations and sawmills to harvest timber and wood. Perhaps even ship logs down in barges to the Bight itself for shipbuilding. Mayhaps even build an Arsenal, like Braavos has,” Aegon mused.
“Always were a big dreamer weren’t you Aegon?” Triston japed.
“Well, it’s brought us this far, hasn’t it? But you are right. We can save such plans for later. We have a war to win first. After we take Wendwater, your armies will have some time to rest before they have to regroup with ours marching in from the west. They should be here within the week,” Aegon said seriously.
“What’s the plan?” Triston said, his lord’s face coming out as he understood the time for japing had ended.
“We’ll be moving for Storm’s End, on the double, conquering all the castles along the way. With any luck, we can catch Argella Durrandon and her family off guard and capture them before they flee to Highgarden.”
Triston and Lord Bar Emmon nodded but Lord Sunglass looked uncertain. “With all due respect Your Grace, you have dragons. Is there any particular reason why you don’t just fly to Storm’s End tomorrow itself and capture the Storm Queen and her family? Less risk of them escaping that way, no? For that matter why not do the same with Highgarden and Oldtown? Why capture at all? Why not just destroy all the enemy leaders and end this war in one fell swoop?”
“Outpacing our armies to fly and land at enemy castles, as we would have to if we wanted to take prisoners always has its dangers. Some overeager crossbowman might try and put a bolt in our chest. I’d rather not take the risk if I can help it. Taking the Storm Queen and her family prisoner would be useful but it is not essential. As we can see from the ongoing resistance in the Vale, taking the Arryns hostage didn’t really help all that much. These enemies of ours fight for the Seven as much as they do their kings and queens.
“As for why we don’t simply destroy Storm’s End, Highgarden, and Oldtown outright, well there are many reasons for that. Burning three of the most famous and wealthy settlements in the continent will complicate the administration and economic prosperity of the realm after the war. It will also cut off the head of the snake so to speak, destroying the enemy leadership but that is not necessarily a good thing. The Faith Militant and their supporters will simply go to ground and disperse into the countryside, becoming nuisances.
“Better the demon you know rather than the demon you don’t, and with the enemy royals and the Faith’s leaders in known locations, it’s easier for us to keep track of them and their plans. We can then advance towards them in our own time, using our armies to draw their forces into pitched battles or sieges as they desperately attempt to protect their still intact centers of power.”
Lord Sunglass looked more convinced now and Lord Bar Emmon interjected. “I agree with His Grace’s logic. The Faith has already tried to stir up the smallfolk against House Targaryen, not to mention they have the Poor Fellows. It will be all too easy for the Faith Militant to blend into the populace.”
Apart from sending out their call for the Holy War, the Faith had even gone so far as to set monetary bounties on the heads of Aegon and his family, promising gold and paradise in the seven heavens for any who killed them. In response Aegon had set a bounty for the scalps of the Faith Militant, a gold dragon for any Warrior’s Son, and a silver drake for any Poor Fellow.
“The Faith even got Dorne’s support,” Lord Sunglass said as he considered his peer’s words.
“Half of Dorne,” Triston corrected. “And the other half is busy raiding the Marches.”
Aegon could not help but share a look of amusement with Visenya. It had made them laugh when they had first heard of it. Truly had there ever been a greater symbol of Dornish duplicity? The Dornish houses had all been torn between neutrality, aiding the Faith in its cause, or taking advantage of the Reach and Stormlands’ distraction to raid the Marches. In rather typical Dornish fashion, they had proceeded to do all three.
House Martell had turned a blind eye, effectively being neutral, and many houses had joined them. Others had sent knights and men-at-arms to join the Faith Militant while others had sent ‘bandits’ to raid the Marches, ironically drawing away soldiers from the frontlines against House Targaryen. Some houses had even done both.
In a way, Aegon supposed he could thank Dorne for being so dependently treacherous and useful but they’d have their comeuppance all the same. One day, once the Vale, the Stormlands, the Reach, and the Faith were all dealt with, it would be Dorne’s turn. And this time Rhaenys would not die, and no miraculous and mysterious letter would save them, that Aegon promised. The prospect of fighting the Dornish raiders might even help him win the loyalty of what remained of the Reach and Stormlands when he was done with them.
“How is Cousin Rhaenys doing? I noticed earlier that she wasn’t with the two of you,” Triston asked him and Visenya as the conversation moved on.
“She has her hands full dealing with traitors in the Westerlands,” Visenya said, a steely gaze in her eyes as she thought of the treacherous cretins.
When they had conquered the Westerlands all those years ago, most of the nobility had actually knelt to them and been spared, becoming subservient to their Archon in Casterly Rock and their Wardens and offering up hostages to attend Summerhall’s court in Alternate Attendance. In hindsight however, that had been a mistake.
Those houses had not become truly loyal and had instead been cooperating with the Faith Militant and Coalition in secret, supporting and secretly funding Poor Fellows, Warrior’s Sons, and Lannister cadets in crossing the border and leading a supposed ‘smallfolk’ rebellion in the hills. Rhaenys had spent the past few months rooting out all of these traitors with the help of the Eyes, Rangers, and glass candles, attainting all of the fools and replacing them with Valyrians and other loyalists.
She had also been hunting down all the Faith Militant in the hillsand fending off halfhearted invasion attempts and raids along the border with the Reach, all with a ruthlessness that befitted her epithet.
When the West and its essential gold mines were fully secure, Rhaenys could easily raise another army and invade the Northmarch of the Reach. The plan was for her to do exactly that while Aegon and Visenya mopped up the Stormlands, giving them a continuous line of control stretching from Old Oak through Goldengrove, Stonebridge, Grassy Vale, and the Stormlands when they were done. Tightening the noose on Highgarden and Oldtown and encircling them.
Their military accomplishments in this war had not gone unnoticed. Their children had built their legend as the Bloodstained Red Twins, but their own had grown greater as well. All the epithets that Rhaenys’ bards and agents had been cultivating for them had solidified further and more still had begun being attributed to them by friend and foe alike.
Rhaenys the Radiant and Ruthless atop the Silver Queen, Meraxes. Visenya the Valiant and Victorious Witch-Queen astride Vhagar the Bronze Fury. Together they were the Left and Right Hand of the Targaryen Triarchy, ruling at his side. Aegon the Dragon, Aegon the Conqueror, and his mighty mount, the largest dragon in the world, Balerion the Black Dread. Some had even taken to naming them the Three Who Are One in mockery of the Faith’s god, the Seven Who Are One.
Aegon wouldn’t lie that the thought of so many epithets and legendary feats for himself, his wives, and their eldest children pleased him. Those reputations would strengthen House Targaryen’s right to rule and guarantee stability for generations to come.
He just couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that with his eldest children having already performed so admirably, and with their own legends only continuing to grow, his younger children would clamor to go to war as well once they reached the age Aerion and Valaena had been when they had unleashed the Deluge of Blood. Aegor and Rhaena had already started planning to that end when he had last been in Summerhall.
Aegon had little doubt in their capabilities and while the idea of them becoming legends in their own right made him proud, it also saddened him that their childhoods might be sacrificed for it just like Aerion and Valaena’s had been.
In hindsight, it seemed like the hopes he, Visenya, and Rhaenys had had to finish the Conquest and do it properly without their children ever having to get involved had always been an overambitious dream. Even with all the plans they had to encircle the Reach and Faith, they still anticipated it being at least two years if not longer to fully bring them to heel. Long enough for Aegor and Rhaena to try and join the war.
And after the Faith and its allies were dealt with, there was still the North, Dorne, the Stepstones, and Aegon’s other plans in Essos to see to. It would be a decade more at least before his Iron Throne was forged.
It was arguably better anyway that their children be tempered by the crucible of war into worthy successors for the legacy their parents meant to give them. Yet as a father, Aegon could not help but mourn the increasing loss of his children’s innocence. It was not the life he had wanted for them, not this young and early at the very least, yet it was the hands they had been dealt and they would have to make do with them.
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Aerion
Dealing with the rebels in the Vale wasn’t hard but it was a right tedious nuisance. Always they’d come out and raid their supply lines or their troop convoys and then slink back into the mountains as soon as they arrived with dragons or reinforcements. Aerion had deployed as many Rangers, Eyes, and scouts as he could into the mountains to hunt them down and find their hiding spots, but it was like finding a needle in a haystack.
Even the glass candles had only limited success with how large the Mountains of the Moon were. Not to mention, the few times they had managed to find a rebel hideout, their shelter in the mountain caves had protected them from the dragons, and he had learned quickly that simply destroying the entrance did not stop and starve them for they often had other hidden entrances. Now whenever they found a hideout, Aerion sent in his troops to capture as many rebels as they could and question them sharply until they got what they needed.
They were making progress, but it was slow going. The Vale was the birthplace of the Faith of the Seven in Westeros, it was where the first Andals had landed, the first kingdom to fall to the Andals, and it showed in how strongly the pious Valemen held to the ideals of the Faith, constantly giving aid in secret to the Faith Militant and Hubert Arryn’s rebels.
Valaena and he had had to resort to… extreme measures to ensure peace and stability in the region and impress upon the locals the price of resistance. A few villages here and there destroyed for sheltering rebels, a few septs burned for spreading slander, a few rebel sympathizers and informants executed in brutal ways. Things like that.
It was not simply wanton cruelty, but measured and targeted. A methodology that had been learned at the feet of his mother Visenya even as his aunt Rhaenys and their father had taught him how to pair the carrot with the stick and win hearts and minds.
Aerion had never been quite as good at charming others as them, however. He had always been much more like his mother with the simpler and more forceful way that she carried herself, one was more at home in an army than trading niceties with courtiers and commoners.
His aunt had once japed that he, like his mother, made others follow him by sheer force of will and personality, demanding obedience simply by right of status and brilliance. He was lucky he had Valaena with him, with her sweet and charming smile that could put any one at ease. Like his aunt and father, people followed Valaena not because they felt compelled to but because she made them want to.
It was a different kind of power and charisma, one that saw them uniquely suited to working in a pair. For every village destroyed for aiding the rebels, three more who had suffered due to the war had found relief and supplies of food and medicine brought personally by Aerion and his sister. For every rebel sympathizer and informant executed, gold and favors were showered upon those who had turned them in.
All the while their preachers and speakers continued to spread the Doctrine of Exceptionalism and raise new septs staffed with new clergy that held the proper views, slowly but surely subverting the Vale’s own religion and turning it against the rebels, speaking of how all the suffering the people were enduring was due to the fault of stubborn rebels who refused to kneel. That the Targaryens had been singled out as exceptional and favored by the Seven to rule, for why else would they have dragons, inhuman beauty, and immunity to any and all ailments?
Aerion and Valaena’s reputations both helped and hindered in this, however. For just as their father had predicted, their names had become bloodied and most who met them for the first time feared their coming and the shadow of Caraxes and Meleys’ wings. Ever since the so-called Deluge of Blood, the three battles in which they had slain sixty thousand men in the span of a week, they had become known as the Bloodstained Red Twins from Dorne to the Wall.
Few now remembered Valaena as the sweet Ruby Princess, and the innocent childhood nickname that had so endeared them to their people had become a symbol of dread. Their hands were covered with blood now. Valaena the Princess Massacre and Aerion the Crimson Prince, demons and abominations alike.
Their loyalists and allies venerated their power and fearsome strength while their enemies feared their coming. Yet it was almost bittersweet at times how even friends would sometimes tread carefully around them, perhaps fearing that they’d turn their red wrath upon them. It made little sense to Aerion, but his father had been right.
Reputations could be a double-edged sword and becoming renown for slaughter at the age of three and ten left many with a first impression that was hard to shake. It was almost hilarious at times to see how well Valaena could confuse those they met with her sweet and seemingly demure and innocent demeanor, and even more impressive how she could smile so charmingly and win them over within a single conversation. Surely, they would think, this Ruby Princess could not be that Bloodstained Princess Massacre?
Yet Aerion knew more than anyone else how well Valaena took to battle. How much offense she had taken to the Faith and all others who dared to call their love into question. She and Meleys had outpaced him and Caraxes to every battle in the Deluge of Blood and even now in the Vale they often repeated that feat. He had feared for a time that his sweet sister might resent their fearsome new reputation, especially since she had originally gone to war only to follow him, but she had taken to the moniker of ‘Princess Massacre’ with almost terrifying ease. She truly was her mother’s daughter, in every way that that entailed. As ruthless as she was radiant and as merciless as she was charming.
Valaena became the most wanton after battle too. Every time they hunted down a rebel hideout or executed some of their sympathizers, she would insist on dragging him away to some idyllic and remote corner of the Vale afterwards and kiss him ceaselessly until both of them were hot and gasping for breath, wishing desperately that they could go further.
The only reason they hadn’t yet was because they both sworn to their parents that they would not, not before they were wed, and they had always been nothing but dutiful and obedient. Yet with their wedding years away still due to their youth and the demands for the war, they had not been able to stop themselves from inching closer and closer to each other in their passion and lust.
They preferred not to do this in the Eyrie, where their uncle Orys, the Dragonguard, and all the other lords and commanders kept a watchful gaze on them as chaperones and loyalists to their parents. Out here in the wild they were free to indulge as much as they wanted, and they had little to fear for who would dare to move against them while Caraxes and Meleys guarded them?
Being alone like this was playing with fire however, yet all the same, Aerion could not stop. He did not have the strength nor will to resist Valaena when she got like this, and only the shreds of responsibility and duty stopped him from going any further.
Today had simply been their latest dalliance. They had managed to catch the rebels in the act for once, burning most of the raiders and capturing the few survivors with the help of their men on the ground. They had then given orders for the prisoners to be taken to the nearby Gates of the Moon for interrogation. With any luck, the prisoners would give them leads to the location of their base, or even the whereabouts of their elusive leader, the self-proclaimed ‘Regent of the Vale’, Hubert Arryn.
Once they had settled all of the important matters, Valaena had kissed him hard before breaking the kiss and flying away on Meleys, knowing that Aerion could do nothing but give chase. She led him to a remote hill overlooking a pristine valley that she claimed to have noticed earlier (making Aerion wonder for a moment just how far in advance she schemed these encounters).
The view of the valley was amazing, but Aerion’s attention was focused entirely on the girl in front of him. They kissed furiously for several minutes, and it took every last ounce of willpower he had to turn her down when, for the first time, she dared to try undressing him.
He held her hands in his, shaking his head and pleading with her silently because they both knew he would succumb if she persisted. Fortunately for their chastity and their parents’ sanity, Valaena relented.
They sat there together for a time, taking in the breathtaking view. The Vale was truly a most beautiful land, full of deep lush valleys and high snowcapped peaks and awe-inspiring glaciers. It was just a shame so many of its people were so stubborn and defiant, forcing them to take such harsh measures.
After an hour had passed, Aerion knew that it was time they returned to the Eyrie before their uncle and all the others started panicking over their absence. He was also eager to see to the imprisonment and interrogation of the prisoners, hoping that they would have something useful for them. Reluctantly, Valaena broke from his embrace and the two of them mounted their dragons.
The flight was not long and soon enough the seven white towers of the Eyrie came into view. Much like the kingdom it had once ruled over, the Eyrie was exceptionally striking, rising sheer from the mountain face upon which it was built like a castle in the sky. A seat fit for dragonlords, Aerion could not help but think, grateful that his parents had not had to destroy it. The one good thing House Arryn had done, he supposed, yielding as they had.
To Aerion’s surprise, their uncle was waiting for them when they landed. They can’t have been gone for that long, could they? It had happened once before when they had been a little eager with their after-battle celebrations and taken too long to return. Their poor distraught uncle had been pacing back and forth in the courtyard waiting impatiently for their return, no doubt wondering with dread what he would tell their parents should they not return.
After the rather long lecture he had given both of them and his warning that the next time it happened he would tell their parents, Aerion had taken care to ensure they were never that late again, no matter how much Valaena protested. Which was why the sight of his uncle in the courtyard filled him with an unease he had not felt ever since that day when Valaena and him had returned to Summerhall after the Deluge of Blood to see their parents waiting for them.
When he dismounted from his dragon, Aerion helped Valaena down from hers before they stood nervously before their uncle. Truly their parents had been exceedingly clever when they had charged Uncle Orys with watching over them. Anyone else and the pair would have inevitably overriden their authority with their princely titles and dragons.
But this time, it was not old Grand Uncle Daemon and the Elder Council that they were dealing with, and they had not been empowered with nigh-unlimited authority as they had been in Summerhall. They had been expressly placed under the command of their uncle Orys, the Grand Chancellor of the Realm and the one man closest to their parents above all others.
Even if they hadn’t respected and loved him for all of that alone, they’d have heeded his commands simply because they knew how close he was to their parents and what the consequences of disobeying him without valid reason could be.
Aerion and Valaena were both aware that their parents were still unhappy they were risking their lives in the war effort at such a young, no matter the strategic benefits that had, and neither of them wanted to do anything that would cause them undue worry or make them regret their decision to let them participate as they were.
Uncle Orys had the audacity to smirk when he saw the two of them nervously squirming in front of him, teasing them and ruffling their hair in a way that no one else in that castle would have dared. Aerion supposed they’d never be able to escape such treatment from him. He’d watched them grow up after all. They were family.
“Relax, you’re not in trouble. Quite the opposite actually. I have been speaking with your father, the King, directly, and he has asked me to relate to you both how proud he and your mothers are of your accomplishments here in the Vale.”
Aerion and Valaena both straightened in pride and acknowledgement. They knew like no one else did in this castle that when their uncle had said he had spoken to their father directly; he had meant it quite literally. Orys Baratheon was one of the very few loyalists of House Targaryen that knew of their glass candles and part of an even smaller handful that had been trained in their use after the accident his mother had had during the Iron Islands when she had been pregnant with their youngest brother, Aemon.
Their uncle’s teasing smile soon faded away into a grim seriousness, however. “The war has taken a rather unfortunate turn. The Northmen appear to have joined the Coalition against us or at the very least seen an opportunity. Torrhen Stark’s army has crossed the Neck and is laying siege to the Twins even as we speak, and a fleet from White Harbor is landing troops in the Three Sisters.”
Uncle Orys looked particularly upset and concerned by this news, the Twins were not far from Seagard after all and it was his ward being ravaged by these Northern savages.
Aerion’s anger burned at the sheer audacity of the Starks, but he did his best to bring it under control. His rage was focused and concentrated until it went cold, calculating and dangerous, just as his mother had taught him.
“So… the Starks think to prey upon us while we appear weak? They will soon learn the extent of their mistake. Give us leave nuncle, and we’ll bring those dogs to heel.”
Uncle Orys shook his head. “I’m not the one you should be asking leave for this. As it so happens however, the ones you should be already agree with you. Your father has ordered you both to put down the invasion, though he given me express instructions that you are not to go into the North itself. You will destroy the Northern fleet landing troops in the Three Sisters and Torrhen Stark’s army at the Twins and then return to the Vale. We are overstretched enough as it is, and your parents have decided that the conquest of the North proper will be left for a later time. The only thing you two are to do is to teach them a lesson and rebuff their invasions.”
“Understood. We’ll have our supplies packed tonight and leave on the morrow,” Valaena said, a look of determination on her face.
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Two days had passed before they had finally made it to the Three Sisters. They had flown from the Eyrie to Coldwater and elected to rest for the night so they would be as fresh as possible for the flight to the Three Sisters and the ensuing battles the day after. Thankfully, none of the settlements in the Three Sisters had fallen though unfortunately the ships his parents had stationed in the island’s ports after their conquest had all been destroyed or captured by the invading Stark fleet.
Aerion and Valaena had made short work of the invasion, destroying all the Northern ships before eviscerating all the stranded besiegers outside Sisterton and the other settlements. They had then rested for the night in Longsister while ensuring ravens were sent to the Eyrie and Summerhall specifying what the islands needed for repairs and reinforcements. By dawn they had taken off again, bearing hard southwest.
With Torrhen Stark’s army at the Twins, they did not anticipate having any safe place to rest and so they had made the decision to fly straight for the Twins. It was midday by the time they finally arrived at the seat of House Frey.
The Northern army had split in two, ten thousand on each side of the Green Fork as they laid siege to the twin castles astride the river. The banner of House Stark, the running grey direwolf on the field of white stood tallest and proudest in both encampments above all the other banners of the North, horseheads, mermen, flayed men, trees, axes, giants, and more.
A furious assault was underway as the Stark army attempted to storm the Twins when Caraxes and Meleys roared their arrival. Though they were too high to tell, Aerion could have almost sworn he could see the Northmen’s morale plummeting.
Valaena and he divided tasks. She took the left side of the river and he took the right as they took their dragons down, diving upon the invading army at terrifying speeds too fast for any arrow or scorpion bolt to even hope to hit. With perfect timing, Caraxes and Meleys unfurled their wings, flattening their descent as they breathed copper and crimson death. Great pillars of flames bathed the land, turning men, horses, wagons, and siege weapons alike into ash and cinders.
With practiced ease they led their dragons into a turn, creating circles of flames that trapped the stragglers within their chosen killzone, making it easier and easier to destroy their enemies like farmhands butchered cattle.
Aerion paid particular attention to what appeared to be the royal tent, large and lavishly colored as it was in silver and grey with Stark banners flying from every tentpole and standard. Valaena and he had already killed one king, a crown prince, and a Faith Militant Grand Captain. Adding some Stark royals to that list seemed like a worthwhile addition. They would give the North and all their other enemies what they deserved for daring to invade their kingdom.
By the time the fires died down, the entire Northern army had been destroyed, and the Freys sallied forth from their twin keeps to deal with any survivors and salvage what they could from the enemy camp. Aerion and Valaena however both landed their dragons, staying in the Twins for the night.
Aerion felt, and Valaena agreed with him, that the Freys and the rest of their uncle’s vassals could handle the cleanup of the Starks’ outriders and other forces in the ward without dragon support. As they were ordered, they would make for the Eyrie on the morrow and return to their assignment in the Vale with a job well done and yet another destroyed invasion added to their record.
When they left the Twins the next day at dawn however, Valaena set her dragon down in a field along the Green Fork a few miles south of the Twins.
Confused, Aerion did the same, intent on questioning his sister about the reason for this unexpected detour. To his surprise Valaena seemed to be making herself comfortable in the shade under a tree at the riverbank while Meleys laid to rest a decent distance away, close enough to guard them from any unexpected danger but distant enough to give them privacy.
In the corner of his eye, Aerion saw Caraxes crawling over to join Meleys as he approached his sister and love. “Really?”
She smirked. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this hasn’t it?”
“It has, but we haven’t needed to,” Aerion replied. They had taken full advantage of their lack of chaperones in Coldwater, Longsister, and the Twins to share rooms and kiss as much as they liked, but it seemed that Valaena still missed their little post-battle tradition.
“True, but it’s not the same. There’s just something different about being out here isn’t there?” Valaena said, casting her arms around them dramatically.
Aerion couldn’t disagree. It was an idyllic and picture-perfect day, fit for a picnic by the river. Plenty of birds and other animals frolicking around too as the rising sun’s light gently reflected off the water in the river. It was like a scene out a song or tale, and Valaena had always been a romantic at heart, loving those tales dearly, just like her mother.
But they were at war now, and such thing should be left for peacetime. “We should get going,” he said, shaking his head but she grabbed his hand.
“Please? There’s plenty of time for us to make it to the Eyrie by nightfall and you know it. I just… I just think we should have a bit of a break before we go back to war. All we really do these days is fight and fly, and while I don’t mind doing those, they can grow tiring after a while,” Valaena said, her eyes pleading in the way she knew Aerion was weak to.
Aerion paused. He’d thought that Valaena had only dragged him away on all their little dates out in the wilderness for the privacy, because her blood was hot and she needed a way to relieve it without the watchful gazes of their uncle and other chaperones at the Eyrie. But it seemed that it had been for more than just that.
As Valaena continued to stare at him with those big purple eyes and the pleading expression on her face that made her look like a sad puppy, Aerion caved.
“Very well, but just for an hour alright?” he said and she started cheering, all the fake innocence thrown away now that it had served its purpose as she smirked and cheered.
“Yes! No take backs Aerion!”
He snorted. “You’re lucky I love you.”
She shook her head. “No. You’re lucky that I love you,” she said before she pulled him down into a mind-melting kiss before tipping him off balance and pinning him to the ground near the tree roots.
“You’re mine Aerion,” she said, with a seductive gaze in her eyes as she straddled him and leaned in for another kiss.
Never one to give up easily, Aerion accepted the kiss before he used his greater strength to wrestle Valaena beneath him.
“And you are mine, Valaena,” he replied, making his sister giggle in delight as he leaned in for another kiss.
For a time, their kisses continued before eventually devolving into a sort of play almost reminiscent of the games they had played as children but charged with something far more as they took turns trying to roll and wrestle the other beneath them.
Their game came to a sudden halt however, when Aerion hit his head painfully on the tree root and Valaena sat him up to inspect his ‘wound’ before deeming it just a minor bruise and laughing at him.
Despite himself, Aerion laughed with her at his own expense, unable to believe the silliness and absurdity of it all. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this much to be honest, or the last time he had felt this carefree. Not even all the previous times he had been in Valaena’s arms had felt quite like this.
As he searched his memories, he was startled to realize that the last time he could really remember feeling like this had been before… well, everything. Before the war with the Faith, before he and Valaena had become bloodstained butchers, before their parents had invaded the Vale even. Hadn’t there been that one day when they had played pretend with their younger siblings and all the pillows in their family’s quarters in Dragonsreach?
That day felt like a lifetime ago now, even though barely seven moons had passed. It felt almost unbelievable to him now that that had even happened and it finally struck him.
Was this what their father had meant? When he had told them that their childhood had ended? For the first time, it occurred to him what that really meant and he grieved its loss. It had happened without him even realizing and that was such a tragedy, wasn’t it? Aerion had been so caught in duty, war, and carnage, that he had forgotten how to live in the moment and enjoy the little things in life. Only now did he understand just what he had given up when he had chosen to act that day.
He turned to Valaena then, remembering her words from earlier, how despite she seemed to relish war at times, she wanted dearly to take breaks away from it all. He felt guilt growing in his heart. The only reason this had all happened had been because of him. Valaena had only gone to war to follow him.
“What’s wrong?” Valaena asked him suddenly, a look of concern on her face.
“It’s nothing,” Aerion tried to dismiss it but she wouldn’t buy it, almost glaring at him for his refusal.
He sighed before he related to her everything that had been bothering him for the past few minutes. When he had finished, Valaena suddenly punched his arm lightly before pushing him back onto the ground.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for that! I made the choice to follow you to war because I loved you, because I loved our kingdom and our family and I knew what had to be done. It was a choice we made together and don’t you dare take away the part I played in all of that. Understood?”
Aerion could only nod as her eyes smoldered.
For a moment he thought she was going to kiss him before she simply laid her head on his chest, right where his heart would be. Instinctively, Aerion held her there, stroking her hair as she listened to the sound of his heartbeat.
“It took me a while to realize it as well,” she said finally. “For a time, I couldn’t understand what Father had meant. Hadn’t we done good? We had accomplished so much, what was wrong? I could understand that they were upset that we had risked our lives when we were so young, but it all worked out in the end didn’t it? What was upsetting them so much?”
She turned her head to look at his face, her chin resting on his chest. “Do you know when I realized it? When Elaena sent us those letters, asking when we were going to come home and play pillow games with her and the others again. It struck me then just how distant from that life we had become. How foreign it was to us now. And all of this in just a mere seven months.
“War has changed us. Staining our hands with blood has changed us, even if we don’t think it has. All the innocence and carefree days of our childhood have ended and I don’t think they’re ever coming back. We are too old and have seen and done too much now.
“But still I wanted to try nonetheless. Try and carve out something that could help us remember who we were outside of this war, so that we could be them again when it finally ends and all our parents’ dreams have been realized. That’s why I started dragging you on all those little adventures after almost every battle.”
“And here I was thinking that you just wanted to kiss me senseless,” Aerion teased.
In response, Valaena pinched him chidingly. “That was part of it yes,” she admitted, “but it’s beside the point.”
Aerion nodded. “I know. Thank you Valaena.”
She turned to glare at him lightly before laying her head back on his chest. “If you’re really grateful, you won’t be so stubborn the next time I try to spend more time with you like this.”
He chuckled. “Alright, it’s a promise.”
They just laid there together in peace for some time as the sun continued to rise. Part of Aerion’s mind urged him to get up, to mount his dragon as duty demanded and return to the Eyrie, but he pushed that part aside for Valaena. She had done so much for him, he would indulge her this for a little while longer. And his treasonous heart longed for more of it as well, and what could he do but give it what it demanded?
As he looked up into the tree, he noticed an increasing number of birds gathering in the branches above. That was odd, he thought, as he looked closer. Ravens and crows were perching on the same branches as some of their most feared predators. Mere inches away from eagles, hawks, falcons, and the like. And their eyes… Aerion could swear that they were looking right through him.
He couldn’t shake the growing feeling of danger, of being watched. He suddenly rose to his feet, startling Valaena.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked as Aerion scrambled around on the ground, looking for a stick.
“What are you doing?” his sister asked him.
“The birds aren’t right. Have you ever seen ravens and crows sharing the same branch as eagles, hawks, and falcons before? And there’s so many of them too, and they’re so still,” Aerion said as he threw the stick at the birds.
Some of the birds scattered and flew away, others started circling above the tree like vultures about carrion. Many of the birds that had been staring at them moved only enough to avoid the stick however, and despite the presence of so many birds of prey, the most fearsome of them all was one particular raven that almost looked to be glaring at them with hatred in its eyes.
“Aerion, look out!” Valaena screamed as she threw him to the ground and he heard several thuds slam into the tree.
He got to his feet, realization dawning as he saw several bone white arrows with red fletching sticking out of the tree trunk. He turned to help Valaena to her feet so they could get out of here but to his horror he saw that two arrows were embedded in her back, piercing into her flesh sickeningly deep.
Valaena started screaming in pain, blood coursing from her wounds and soaking her clothes as Aerion desperately tried to help her. Before he could even think on his next move however, a sharp pain greater than any he had ever felt pierced through his mind.
Aerion screamed like he had never screamed before, his throat going hoarse as he scratched at his eyes and clamped down hard on his tongue as if he was going to bite it off. It was like a dozen voices had crawled into his mind and tried to crush him into the darkness, hollowing him out until they could do with him as they pleased.
He thought he was going to die when Caraxes suddenly roared, his fury as deafening in his mind as it was in his ears, crushing the voices trying to seize him underfoot. The dragon would accept no challengers. Aerion’s mind was his to share and his alone.
Aerion barely recovered from the attack enough to duck when another volley of white arrows slammed into the tree. Most of them missed him but one slammed into his right leg, making him fall to the ground in pain. Dazed and barely able to even think or move with a splitting headache and the arrow embedded in his calf, he picked up Valaena.
His sister had fallen unconscious, from the pain or from her very mind being attacked like his had been he did not know, but he knew he had to get her out of here. He limped and crawled as Caraxes and Meleys knocked the tree over into the river with a loud splash. The sheer strength and rage in their swing was awesome to behold as they wrapped their wings around them both and shielded them from the arrows.
However, the birds which had watched and glared at them with such hatred had survived the tree’s felling and they attacked now, diving upon Aerion and the unconscious Valaena, pecking at their flesh with their razor-sharp beaks and clawing open their skin with their talons.
Aerion screamed in agony and despair before Meleys suddenly breathed a gust of hot air upon them, enough to push Aerion back slightly with Valaena in his arms and scatter all the birds away.
Desperately before the birds could come back or the unseen archers find a way around the dragons’ wings, Aerion climbed into Caraxes’ saddle, Valaena and him bleeding their lives away all the while. He fastened and secured Valaena as fast as he could before the sharp pain from earlier returned for a brief instant. And then Caraxes slammed the walls of his mind shut and eviscerated any who dared enter again.
With the last of his strength, Aerion willed Caraxes to take them anywhere but here. The dragon complied, beating his wings furiously as they took off into the sky faster than they ever had before.
As they soared higher, Aerion’s mind slipped away despite all of his efforts to stay awake and his fear of what would happen if he didn’t. The pain was unbearable and he just wanted it to stop. The last thing he remembered before it all went dark was Meleys’ anguished roar.
And the fire. So much fire.
_______________________________________________
Author’s Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please lmk what you think of how the war is playing out in the south and in the Vale, of Aerion and Valaena’s characterizations and the overall theme of innocence lost and the cost of war? I’m especially curious to hear thoughts on the chapter’s ending! Was it all good? Was it done well? I need to know to improve!
Let me know your thoughts, suggestions, and questions in the comments below or over on Discord! https://discord.com/invite/NSEwuzpcWm
Comments
Tertius711
Aerion is charismatic enough for what must be done. Valaena helps soften his edges lel. Nice, glad you liked the ending. Do read on!
Luca
I like the twins I do think that Aerion could be more charismatic. The ending was good made me stand on my set. The North better burn for this.
Tertius711
Glad you like that! I really wanted to show it as a realistic flaw in their characterization and break the whole 'perfect' image they seemed to have given off to some in earlier chapters while hopefully still remaining consistent. After all, it would only make sense for 13 year olds who just accomplished an incredible feat to grow incredibly arrogant and overconfident. And yeah they really treat war too much like a game and it's time to grow up. Definitely stay tuned to see how the elder Targaryens react to this assassination attempt!
sonofr
I appreciate that the twins show that they are still children with how they behave. They're cocky and treat the time of war like a game. Don't get me wrong, I like their characters but you can see they have some growing up to do. On another note the elder Targaryens are going to be utterly livid with the North after that assassination attempt. Something tells me Winterfell may be this world's Harrenhal.
Tertius711
I'm glad you saw that! Yes the Red Twins very much show their immaturity, recklessness, and arrogance in this chapter. Their enormous victories the previous chapter went to their heads and made think they're invincible. Definitely stay tuned to see how things play out!
NJ
Honestly Aegon, Rhaneys and Visenya will be beyond enraged at the North, but this incident and their other landings to have their "fun" is a glaring example of the Red twins immaturity and arrogance. I am sure their parents with SI Aegons metaknowledge of the Rhaenys' death have drilled into them, they not their dragons are the easiest to kill and on the ground they are just as vulnerable more or less than any other people, so for them to keep playing with fire(pun intended) and landing post battle in semi to outright hostile territories is recklessness of the highest order. I am sure their parents will be more worried about their survival, but I don't think you should make them get a pass for this reckless behavior from when it comes to their parents uncompromising assessment of how they put themselves in a position to make such an assassination attempt possible (if they survive) and or for Visenya in particular to once she is assured he is alright and safe and has time to get the AAR tear into her son in particular for this carelessness and going against his own instincts and training (that you clearly noted he was ignoring) to please his sister here.
Tertius711
Glad you like it! Stay tuned to see what Valaena and the North's fates shall be! Ehh. Dorne can be starved too lol. Only Martin's plot armor prevented that OTL.
Zenokya
Really nice chapter. The last line make me fearful for Valaena. The north lost his army but the Wolf teeth is still present but now the royal backing is gone and the dragon wrath will strike. Unlike Dorne the north can be easy to struck down. Just burn the food and isolate the whole territory and bam massive starvation.
Tertius711
Are you superzeno on Discord? In any case, to answer your question, I have at times vaguely considered it but not really personally. Mostly in brainstorming sessions with friends who were actually considering it. I was never really all that interested in it myself. The easiest path to success would probably be winning whatever inevitable rebellion was brewing against the Targaryens regardless of Aerys' madness or not.
Lightisyhepathtosark
A bit off topic but have you ever thought of doing a SI Aerys II. I think it would be incredible to read about how Aerys turn the Targaryen at it weakest point to the strongest ruling Westeros as an absolute autocrat. Accomplishing all of it through political intrigue ala Augustus Caesar. And yo do it without Dragons would cement as yhe greatest Targaryen king
Tertius711
YES LET THE HATE FLOW THROUGH YOU XD Was it a good chapter?
Odysseus
ooohh i hope they genocide the north and the first men, remove the entire title of king of the first men. Fuck those stubborn wankers who think they’re so different. Bloody dirt kneelers.
Tertius711
Bear in mind that Brandon Snow being a skinchanger is only a theory in canon and never explicitly confirmed. It never really amounted to anything OTL and there were no explicit Stark skinchangers until Ned Stark's children. The North also had a long history of hunting and persecuting skinchangers too. It has been many years since Aegon SI read the books so some details slipping past him could happen. Especially since Brandon Snow and his Wolf's Teeth arose as a butterfly effect of Aegon's decision to conquer in a more methodical and slow way.
Tertius711
There is an exceedingly high possibility indeed! Deffo stay tuned because we will be getting some updates on the situation with Brandon Snow and the skinchangers next chapter!
Durrie Muncher
Is there any possibility for potential backlash from the failed attempt at skinchanging a Dragon? Like a certain snow thinking he could overpower the mind of dragon and then being turned into a vegetable.
NJ
SI Aegon knew of the magic and wargs of the North, this is an inexcusable lapse from him to not take out a Brandon Snow beforehand with his meta knowledge and not take this into account when sending his kids to fight the North.
Tertius711
Ahh Meleys isn't who you should be concerned for here lel. Sorry if I made you misunderstand at the end. Meleys basically got extremely pissed off by what happened to her rider that she destroyed the entire countryside around where the attack was in her rage in an attempt to kill the attackers.
Tertius711
I'm sorry lel :). Glad you think the chapter is amazing though. What particular details did you like?
TwoJacksAndAnAce
Man I hope Meleys is ok, loosing a dragon would be a terrible blow and shatter Targaryen invincibility.
Xephosus
Fuck you for the cliffhanger but still amazing
Tertius711
Ehh what made you think Aegon intended to bring the North peacefully into the Empire? His stated goal is to remove all the existing royal houses after all. This being said however, Brandon has definitely made things a lot worse.
Tertius711
Thanks for reading! Stay tuned to find out!
Tertius711
Glad you think so! Ofc there are plans for Ice, tis Valyrian steel after all. Stay tuned to see how things play out with the North and rest assured, the next chapter shall indeed be in a week!
AJ
He just made a huge enemy honestly his arrogance is going to make the North suffer originally Aegon probably would have chosen to peacefully bring them into the kingdom like before now. The Saddest part is Torrhen wanted to be cautious and not make any mistakes and Brandon bloodlust might have destroyed the entire north
Snack00
You better not kill her
Kinggn
well brilliant cliffhanger, i do hope that you have plans for ice(valyrian steel) because Aegon had so far done everything in his power to make sure another Rhaenys like tragedy would not befall on House Targaryen, if something happens to the daughter of Rhaenys he will not stop until all the north becomes fertile land. you better delivery the next chapter in a week's time otherwise waiting for another month is number one bullshit.
Tertius711
We shall see indeed what the fate of the twins and North shall be! Stay tuned! Torrhen can't really think better of anything now though. Bro is dead.
Amerdism
The North better hope the twins survive, the three who are one will be furious about the harm done to their children, if they die, I wouldn't be suprised if Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys decide to forgo any ground invasion and instead just decide to incinerate the north from the neck to the wall. Torrhen should of thought better of this, if he had, he would of realised that the Targaryens don't need to fight him in battle or even go near attack any castles, they just need to intercept any trade to the north, while they burn the fields and the north will starve en masse
Tertius711
Glad you liked the chapter! And hey, it's just a week till next chapter at least for this cliffhanger!
Arcturus
Yep, they just sign up their own death certificate... Valyrians wouldn't stop till kill every Starks(with every cadet branch) and skinchangers, well done Brandon Snow, well done dude...😅
Kayden High
Ugh I hate cliffhangers, but good chap
Sukhraj Singh
Something tells me that the North has just pushed the big Red Button that they never should have pushed. The wrath of Aegon and his sisters will be terrible to behold. They are not ready for the hell they have just unleashed on themselves on themselves. I hope the Velena will survive her wounds otherwise the North just signed itself up for genocide and extinction.
Tertius711
Pog. Did you read the chapter yet lel? Wdyt of it?
Amit Efraim
First 🥇
