Chapter 8: The Pig-Rider and the Bastards

"It looks the same as I remember." Jaecerys smiled as he climbed down the stairs along with Lucerys behind.

The youngest had a constant grimace on his face as he observed the looks that the others gave them making him look down in shame.

Jaecerys walked up to the table that had various weapons of all kinds arranged. Lucerys muttered as quietly as a mouse.

"Everyone is looking at us."

Jaecerys smiled at his younger brother.

"Let them. Their gazes do not matter, our positions are very different."

Lucerys nodded lightly.

"Do you think they will question your claim to Driftmark?"

Jaecerys froze, almost chuckling as he picked up a shortsword.

"They could try."

He kept the blade back and looked at his Lucerys.

"Remember this brother... we have the blood of dragons flowing in us and that is plenty enough."

Lucerys smiled weakly and looked away, grumbling a little.

"I just wished I looked less of Ser Harwin Strong and more like Ser Laenor Velaryon."

Jaecerys laughed softly and looked over a hole where Ser Cristone Cole had once swung his mace.

"It still seems to be here."

His palms touched the wall as a pang of nostalgia filled the boy. His eyes turned towards Lucerys and he smiled gently as he remembered the time when they were young.

Before tension filled their family, before when there was the hope of Baelon recovering. His sickness had been too long now. An heir can not be a sickly prince unable to ascend to the throne.

Jaecerys feared the realm could go to ruin after his cousin's death. If he did die that is... after all he still had not even after so many years of sickness.

*Whoah!!* *Whoa!* *Whoah!!* *Whoahh!*

Exclamations could be heard from behind them. Jaecerys grabbed his brother by the cloak and led him toward the crowd.

The two brothers looked around as everyone seemed to be moving about in an uproar. The younger one's eye twitched as he saw the cause of it.

Aemond Targaryen.

The silver-haired boy had grown considerably in the last ten years. He had turned into a man. He stood at a towering height of six feet, his purple eyes blazing in glory as he swished around Ser Criston Cole's mace as if a dance.

His elegant steps attracted the attention of all onlookers and especially the two brothers who were absolutely mesmerized by them.

*Clang!!*

Aemond instantly shielded his body with the shield on his left as Cole's mace fell. Aemond threw his shield away, now that it was damaged and useless... it was just dead weight.

He got on his two feet and released a swift flow of strikes, all aiming at Ser Criston Cole's neck.

Cole was caught off guard by such speed. He blocked every single one of the strikes with ease and smirked.

"Impressive."

Ser Criston Cole chuckled, his hand gripping tight on his mace.

"But you are still a child!"

Aemond moved his head to the side and struck the knight in the chest. His expression was stoic.

Ser Criston Cole was caught off-guard and in a rage of anger swung the mace around, berserk.

Aemond backed away, his gaze similar to a viper as he calculated the next move of the kingsgaurd.

A smirk formed on his face as he evaded the next move, stepping into the knight's personal space.

With the next set of movements, Aemond already held Ser Criston Cole's at sword by the neck.

The knight smiled, sniffing lightly and surrendering his body.

"Well done, my prince... you will be winning tourneys in no time."

Aemond did not reply. He was on guard but a small crinkle cracked open. He turned to look at his nephews by the side, a small smirk on his face.

"Nephews... have you come to train?"

The two gulped their saliva. Jaecerys opened his mouth only to close it. His mouth could not find air enough making his heart beat faster.

Aemond nodded as if he understood their moment of hesitation.

"Or are you not strong enough?"

That was the turning point. Jaecerys grabbed a sword and walked forward. His gaze was clear as day while Lucerys by the side glared at Aemond with hatred.

The silver-haired boy smiled widely.

"We shall see how strong you are, my prince."

Jaecerys smiled calmly, his palm gripping the sword tightly.

"You forget... Uncle. Dragons do not need swords to defeat their enemy. Fire is enough."

Before anyone could even blink Aemond had already jumped forward attacking Jaecerys.

Jaecerys immediately evaded the attack, blocking his uncle's sword with his own, holding it in place.

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Aemond grunted and slashed downwards. Jaecerys stepped backward, turning his back to the silver-haired boy.

Aemond's sword cut through the air, slicing right past the prince's shoulder and clanging against the wall behind his back.

The crowd gasped as they saw the two princes clash in battle. Aemond having the upper hand easily.

"Come on, Prince Jaecerys... fight me back!"

Jaecerys rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the muscles that had stiffened from the sudden movement.

He tried to bring his sword in line but Aemond's sword was faster than anything he could ever imagine. He blocked it again and again.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his face, leaving a trail of blood in its path that stained his cloak.

"Do not worry."

Aemond's voice echoed in Jaecerys' ears.

"If I kill you by accident, I will take care of your dragon."

His smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming in joy as he watched the prince falter.

Jaecerys groaned as he felt the strength leave his limbs. He took a deep breath and then closed his eyes, focusing all his energy on his mind.

Releasing a final cry, he rushed towards the silver-haired boy but before his sword could pierce, Aemond had already parried the attack roundabout kick swishing Jaecerys's feet making him fall to the ground.

"Do you surrender?" Jacaerys opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Aemond kicked him in his face.

"Tell me, nephew... do you surrender?" He kicked him in the stomach this time. Jacaerys released a few moans, tasting acid in his mouth and dust covering his face.

"Dear nephew, I asked you a simple question... do you surrender?" Jacaerys simply did not get a chance as another kick landed on his face.

Lucerys looked at his brother in horror, he glanced at those nearby... they seemed to be enjoying the drama... uncaring about butting in.

Lucerys gritted his teeth, clutching a sword tightly, he rushed towards Aemond however just as he was about to touch him, Ser Criston Cole parried the amateurish strike.

"What do you think you are doing, my prince...? Butting in a duel illegally?"

His mouth neared his ear as the man whispered. "Bastard." before kicking the boy down to the ground, harshly.

Lucerys eyes widened as tears welled into them. He raised his head, all those looking at the battle had expressions of disdain toward him.

He looked around, Aemond kicking his brother constantly and Ser Criston Cole who glared at him with a coldness like never before.

Lucerys felt powerless. Utterly useless. His eyes looked down at the ground where there was a little sand.

Something in his body felt hot. His blood rushed with fury. Jaecerys's words resounded in the back of his head.

A dragon flew in the air. A little small in size but a dragon nevertheless. Everyone turned to look up and their expression instantly grimaced.

This was bad. It was turning too serious. Someone had to stop this.

Lucerys clutched the little grains of sand tight, he raised his head to look at Ser Criston Cole.

He took a deep breath and launched a handful of sand straight at him.

*Swoosh*

He threw the said in his eyes as the man groaned in pain barely able to open his eyes. Lucerys ran.... he ran as fast as he could towards Aemond.

The silver-haired boy was lost in fury but he was skilled enough to not be aware of his surroundings.

He saw Lucerys rushing toward him from the corner of his eyes and struck first, leaving Jaecerys alone.

Aemond quickly dashed towards Lucerys, his sword rising above his head as he prepared to slash down before kicking the young boy making him fall for the second time.

"Nice try, nephew."

Aemond's focus shifted from Jaecerys to Lucerys. The young boy's plan to save his brother had worked meticulously although at a cost of himself.

However, to contrary beliefs... it was not over yet.

"Do not come close."

Lucerys spat, his words containing venom. His gaze pointed behind Aemond where a dragon flew, gazing deeply at the battlefield.

Aemond turned to look at him with a grimace.

"You would not..."

None of the two spoke... they simply gazed into each other's eyes with hatred. Lucerys opened his mouth to speak while Jaecerys slowly lifted himself, his body and face a complete mess.

At that moment the majestic doors opened once again. What followed was a single knight and a maid that held a short black parasol attached to a wooden stick with intricate red designs giving shade to the person under it.

Everyone gazed at them with a frown and incredulous looks, curious to know who had come.

The knight, stood straight as he spoke loud but in a clear tone. Each word he spoke was slow but enough to fill everyone up with awe.

"ALL HAIL BAELON OF HOUSE TARGARYEN!! HEIR to the IRON THRONE and PRINCE of DRAGONSTONE!!"

***

A/N: Why should you send me power stones? You should because, more readers motivate me and the easiest way to get more is by attracting attention and that can be attracted if you send power stones.

So let's milk them out good yeah?

Thanks everyone for your support and reading this chapter. Write reviews if you enjoy reading. Shoutout to those who do haha.

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