Chapter 48: Chapter 20: The Plague of Kings Landing (Part 2)

5 Days Later

Throne Room of the Aegonfort

Vaemond sat on the Iron Throne, leaning forward slightly to avoid the sharp sword points as the old man shuffled forward, leaning on a cane and helped forward by Ser Garmon Hightower due to his blindness.

The King said nothing, and so the hall was silent as the old man slowly made his way to the throne, the tap of his cane echoing on the timber floors.

‘’Lord Maric.’’ Vaemond said curtly when they finally made it in front of the throne.

‘’Your Grace.’’ The old man said.

‘’I gave you a chance old man…..to call back your banners…and you refused it….you would have bathed the city in blood while the smallfolk died by the dozens from the gray plague….it seems your wits have abandoned you as well as your sight Lord Gaunt.’’ Vaemond said sternly.

‘’I've served your house for 30 years…..your father himself named me the Lord of Blackwater Bay…and it seems to me that the city is within my influence, by your fathers own decree of my authority the city is mine by rights.’’ The old man said.

‘’My castle commands a view of Blackwater bay, do you mean to seize it as well….you know as well as I that you have no pretense over these lands and even less so to set your men upon the gold cloaks that defend the city….you acted out of the blind ambition of a done old man and there will be consequences.’’ Vaemond said bluntly.

‘’I may be an old man but neither am I a green boy….try as you might you are not your father…..you have no victories or accomplishments, you've spent the entirety of your reign being unhorsed by better men at tourneys while i've spent 30 years ruling over the Blackwater Bay boy.’’ The old man said bitterly.

Vaemond had to chuckle at that ‘’Boy is it…..my small council thinks that you are deserving of the severest punishment possible for your attempt to flood Kings Landing with blood while plague is at its very gates….you only seek to condemn yourself further with your own words my lord.’’

The old man grew pale at that.

‘’Nevertheless I will be merciful…I will allow you to keep your land…and more importantly your head, but you have forfeited the right to be Lord and Protector of Blackwater Bay and lost any claim to its incomes and vassals, henceforth, Lord Chelsted of Bramsfort will be Lord of the Blackwater, and you and your descendents will swear fealty to him.’’

‘’Your Grace this is…’’ The old man began but the young King interrupted him.

‘’Silence is likely your best course of action my lord.’’ Vaemond said, and Lord Commander Corlys nodded to the Kingsguard, the old man was escorted out of the hall by Ser Garmon Hightower.

When the old man had gone, Vaemond gestured Lord Rickard Stokeworth forward towards the throne.

‘’Lord Gaunt may be an old fool, but he spoke true…my father was well respected for his victories, but I will always be seen as an unblooded boy until I have victories of my own….I want you to raise a claim on the island of Bloodstone in the Steppestones…I mean to cross blades with the pirates of the Narrow Sea and make my reputation.’’

The old chancellor nodded ‘’I will make the preparations your Grace.’’

Three Weeks Later

Prince Aelyx’s Chambers

Nyel stood at the entrance of the chambers, hands clasped together, almost to the point of shaking.

Her brother Matarys put a comforting hand on her shoulder and Nyel took it gratefully.

Her mother paced around outside the chambers, looking even more tired and distressed than normal ‘’I warned him…I warned him this would happen.’’

Nyel was silent at that, she didn't trust herself to say anything, she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and bile at the back of her throat.

Suddenly the chamber doors opened, and Grandmaester Arlan walked out, looking grim.

‘’Well.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’The rash has spread through most of his face…and in his nose, which constricts his breathing….he…I attempted to remove it with a liquid from Volantis that is oft used in cases like this but…he did not take well to the treatment and I dare not try again…I fear….’’ The old man said, plucking at his beard, eyes filled with sadness.

‘’You fear what?’’ Nyel managed to choke out, the tears threatening to overtake her.

‘’I fear it is in the god's hands now….i've instructed the High Septon and every man of faith in the city to light a candle for your son.’’ Grandmaester Arlan said.

‘’You are the Grandmaester and you would do nothing but pray…save him…he is suffering.’’ Matarys said in disbelief.

‘’I have done all I can…every method known to me, but his body has not responded to any of the treatments, any more and the shock could kill him.’’ The Grandmaester explained.

‘’How long…how long until we know, how long must my son fight.’’ Nyel asked, forcing herself to remain composed.

Arlan remained silent at that.

‘’The queen asked you a question….you will answer her…now.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’Tonight…..will be the decisive night…if he makes it through the night then his road becomes easier…but…it is no guarantee my Queen, he is in dire straits.’’ The old man answered.

‘’Where in the seven hells is my son….he should be back by now.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’The Kingswood is vast….even with the hunting party his Grace took it will take the messenger time to find him and bring him back.’’ Arlan explained.

‘’All I hear from you are excuses….if my grandson dies due to your failure ill.’’ Visenya began sharply before Matarys put a hand on her shoulder.

‘’I think it's best you leave us Grandmaester.’’ The young prince said gently and Grandmaester Arlan withdrew.

‘’I…I must be with him.’’ Nyel said, her voice thick with grief, turning to her chambers.

‘’Nyel…..there is the risk that if you go in there.’’ Matarys began but was interrupted.

‘’I wont leave my son in there alone….I won't.’’ Nyel said, shaking her head.

‘’It's not just you that is at risk.’’ Matarys said gently, gesturing towards Nyels belly.

‘’Have you given up on Aelyx already…have you!.’’ Nyel demanded, no longer able to stop the stream of tears.

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Her mother nodded ‘’You are the blood of the Dragon….and so is your son…go to him.’’

Nyel nodded and pushed open the door slowly, Matarys giving his mother a shocked look but the Dowager Queen paid him no mind.

It stank of decay and medicines from across the narrow sea, but Nyel scarcely noticed, making her way to the bed where her son lay, wheezing and struggling to breath from the hard gray flesh that had taken half of his face and his nostrils.

He looked so small laying there in the bed and scarcely seemed to notice her, his eyes a sickly yellow color, the sight of it brought the tears once again and Nyel made no effort to stop them this time, laying in the bed and taking him into her arms.

‘’My sweet boy.’’ She said, clutching him close to her.

‘’My sweet boy.’’ She repeated as the fatigue of the sleepless previous days and nights overpowered her.

Several Hours Later

Nyel was in the void once again….dark, and cold she slowly made her way forward.

She saw a stag in the grass, with wings like a dragon and fur black as coal bleeding dark blood from a terrible wound.

She saw a lion, old and proud open its jaws, revealing jagged teeth, as sharp and pale as the mountains of the moon in the Vale.

A Lion does not bow The words entered her mind.

She saw her brother's sword Blackfyre, soaked in blood while a dragon burned in the distance, embers floating to the night sky, beside the burning dragon were two cloaks, white as fresh fallen snow smoldering.

Suddenly she heard a shout of pain and the thud of arrows, a familiar yell of pain echoing throughout her mind, her brothers.

Then as quickly as the flurry of images appeared they went, leaving nothing but darkness and a rising sound.

All around her a terrible wheezing sound echoed throughout the darkness.

No..please no Nyel thought to herself, she knew what she would see next.

She heard the shuffling noise and turned and saw the figure making his way towards her slowly.

‘’NO.’’ Nyel shrieked, holding the bundle close to her, attempting to run but her feet betrayed her and she fell in the darkness while the figure made its way forward.

The figure did not bother to wear a hood this time, its cracked gray face and yellow eyes staring at her, utterly without mercy and suddenly it was upon her.

Nyel screamed and shrieked, kicked and bit, pledged and begged but the figure clutched at the bundle pulling, tearing sending icy tendrils through her, but still she held fast until at last her strength failed her and the bundle was pulled from her arms.

Nyel slowly opened her eyes, gentle sunlight streaming through the glass window.

A moment of peaceful ignorance was upon her as the warm rays of the morning sun warmed her face, she stretched and looked down.

Her son, wrapped in a blanket, was not moving, his face caked with hard gray flesh, his yellow eyes open but not moving.

‘’Aelyx.’’ She said, her voice quiet as a whisper as she tried to rouse him but to no avail.

Years later servants would say they were woken by shrieks as if from a wounded animal, running in to see the Queen hysterically sobbing, holding the young prince with only Visenya being able to separate the two.

The heir to the Iron Throne was dead.

 

Four Days Later

Courtyard of the Aegonfort

It was a terrible thing to watch your child burn.

Vaemond stood among the members of the court watching the small pyre and the black and red bundle burn.

The King and his entire family were dressed in black, Nyel was silent as she had been ever since he had returned from the Kingswood, his mother looked even more pale and dark eyes than he had ever seen her, while his brother had tears streaming down his face while his hand was on his older brothers shoulder.

You weren't here. The thought echoed through his mind for what seemed like the 100th time. Even Kings needed breaks from the stresses of ruling a plagued city and the King had organized a short hunt into the Kingswood. He had nearly killed his horse when word of his son's sickness had reached him, riding day and night but still he was too late.

You weren't here The thought echoed through his mind again, the flickering flames of the pyre seemed to stab his own heart each time they crackled, greedily devouring the bundle.

Long after the Septon had said the rites and the crowd slowly left the courtyard, Vaemond remained, looking at the ashes that had once been his son, only Corlys remained, standing vigil alongside him silently.

It was dusk by the time Nyel finally came out, the last rays of the sun retreating from the sky.

‘’Vae….you will catch chill…..come inside….please.’’ His sister said, her voice thick with grief and fatigue.

‘’It was my fault…I….I…my fault.’’ the young King choked out before at last breaking down into tears.

Nyel took him in her arms ‘’Don't ever think that…dont’’

Even his sister's words seemed weak to him, it was his fault and his sister knew it.

You weren't here

Vaemonds hand went to her belly, where the child that would have been their youngest was growing.

He looked up to Corlys, still standing behind them, a pained look on his face.

‘’Corlys…..shut the gates…just shut them.’’ He said.

I will not lose you He thought, his hands on Nyels belly.

Corlys nodded and withdrew without a word.

Vaemond looked out to the dark seas of Blackwater Bay, the sky dark red on black water, the colors of the Targaryen prince who had been laid to rest.

You weren't here The thought echoed through his mind once more, as constant as the tide.

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