The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 18: Capture of a King

A Moon Later  

“What do you mean the Darklyns are refusing to pay taxes?!” Aerys yelled, glaring at his Master of Coin. 

Qarlton cleared his throat, nervously looking between the King and his ledgers, “Lord Darlyn has refused to pay his taxes until he is given the charter that he asked for when he came to the capital last, Your Grace.” 

Denys had not been quiet in his defiance of the Crown’s authority, sending out runners to his vassals and close friends that spoke of his decision. Whether or not the Lord of Duskendale did this intentionally to try and force the Crown’s hand, knowing that the contents of these letters would spread across the realm, the council could not discern. 

“According to word of mouth, Lord Darklyn viewed it as unfair that Dorne was given a charter for its own trade nearly a century ago by the Crown.” Gurnar added. 

Aerys clicked his teeth as his turned to his Master of Whisperers, “And why was I not informed of this before now?” 

Gurnar flinched, “I had assumed that Lord Darklyn was all talk, simply speaking empty words out of frustration. And with how long it takes to sort through all the taxes we receive, I and Qarlton did not learn what was going on until now, Your Grace.” 

“Useless.” Aerys spat at Gurnar, he then turned to his Hand, “Tywin, write to Darklyn and tell that blasted fool that will pay his taxes or suffer the consequences.” 

“I will immediately, Your Grace.” Tywin said. 

Aerys glared at the group of men once again before standing from his chair at the head of the table and storming out of the room. 

With the meeting now effectively over, the men slowly flittered out of the chamber until only Tywin was left. 

The Hand thought about what he would put in his letter to Denys while questioning the man’s intelligence for thinking he could strong arm Aerys into changing his mind. 

Aerys was not the kind of man who reacted well to being cornered, nor for others being so blatantly disrespectful to him and his royal authority. 

When Tywin finally stood up and left the small council chamber, he thought more about Denys and Aerys, an idea coming to him as he moved to pen his letter to the disgruntled lord.

~X~

“This is nice.” Rhaella said, moving her gaze away from Viserys and onto her eldest child. 

In the gardens of the Red Keep, the Queen and her two sons were partaking in a family picnic, on a rare day when none of their duties were taking up most of their time. 

Ser Gerold stood near the exit, allowing him to be close enough to the royals should anything go wrong while giving them a bit of privacy. 

The beautiful sounds of Rhaegar’s harp slowly tapered off as he took up at mother, “It is, though I do wish Aerea was here with us.” 

Rhaella smiled, “Are you still upset that Aerea decided to follow Robert to the Vale?” 

Rhaegar looked away, “She was not prepared for a longer journey when she left the city.” 

“And I had more clothes sent for her when she wrote to us.” Rhaella said, “Robert is not going to corrupt your sister, he is not as bad as you believe him to be.” 

Let us hope not. Rhaegar thought, “Have you heard of what the Darklyns are doing?” 

Rhaella allowed her son to change the conversation, sighing as she spoke, “I have, my ladies have told me. While it is understandable to want more for your lands and people, Denys is foolish to believe that forcing your father’s hand will work. Hopefully, Lord Tywin’s efforts will prove successful and Denys will end his little rebellion against the Crown.”

“And if they do not?” Rhaegar asked, “Father has been quite angry over the whole affair, the very gull Lord Denys has shown, has infuriated him beyond belief.”

“That is why we must hope, Rhaegar. Aerys has never been the most precise, when it comes to his how he interacts with his lords.” 

Rhaegar knew what his Rhaella was alluding to and refusing to say outright, Aerys was not a man who knew compromise, and as the type of King that he was, he would only escalate the tensions. 

“Do you believe that father would kill Lord Denys should the man refuse to back down?” 

Rhaella frowned, taking a moment to respond, “I do not know, your father has never outright struck down a noble but...” 

But his anger may get the better of him. Rhaella thought to herself.

“Mama!” Viserys cried out, reaching up to try and touch Rhaella’s face.

Rhaella chuckled, leaning down and kissing Viserys’ forehead as she held him closer to her chest.

Rhaegar sat back against the tree, thinking about how this situation would play out. A tiredness filled him at the thought of what would be coming next, especially with his father in the middle of it.

“You are thinking too hardly about this, Rhaegar.” Rhaella told him, still playing with his brother. “This is not your problem to solve, you are only a prince.” 

“The Crown Prince.” Rhaegar stressed, “Problems like this matter because I will be the one who inherits this realm, the things that father does now have effects that will reverberate for years. And I will eventually have to deal with them all.” 

Rhaegar deep down worried about what the state of the realm would be by the time he became King. Their family had long since been in decline, centuries of wars, infighting, and poor decisions, had taken their toll on House Targaryen, and Rhaegar doubted that Aerys would be the man to change this. 

Rhaella frowned, reaching up and cupping the side of her son’s face. “Oh, my sweet boy.”

Rhaella had always feared that her eldest son had too much responsibility and expectation forced upon him. To her, Rhaegar had not been given the chance to simply be a child and to move about life without a care, not like Aerea had been given.

Rhaegar turned his head causing his mother's hand to fall. “It will be my burden to bear unfortunately, that is the truth of the matter.”

Rhaella continued to watch her son with worry, she was used to Rhaegar’s bouts of melancholy and darkened thoughts, but it was never easier to bear witness to.

~X~

The Eyrie, The Vale  

Aerea watched with interest as the Lord sitting on the throne, held court. 

Jon Arryn was an older man, with broad shoulders, graying blond hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose. A few of his teeth had fallen out and was breath was slightly poor, something that could only be noticed when standing next to him. 

But despite his outward appearance, Aerea noted that Jon was a kind and prudent ruler. 

There were few who entered the High Hall who left it in anger, a testament to Jon's skillful political mind. 

When the session ended, Aerea made her way to Jon and his nephew and heir as the hall emptied out. 

Elbert Arryn had the same hair and eye color, tall body, and sturdy frame, but he was far younger, around Robert and Ned’s age, his hair was cut shorter, and was more handsome than Jon. 

Both Arryns bowed to Aerea when they saw her approach, and Jon was the first to speak. “Princess Aerea, you did not have to come to court, I swear I have seen you here more than Robert and Ned in the last year.” 

Aerea smiled, “I wanted to, Lord Jon, I find the court of the Eyrie interesting, especially compared to that of King’s Landing.” 

“Interesting?” Jon asked. 

“I’ve noticed that those who come before you are more honest about what they want and need then they are back home.” Aerea answered. 

“Yes, I would suppose the capital and the environment that festers within it, would make sweeter words more preferable to straightforwardness.” 

“Is King’s Landing truly that bad? You make it sound like a den of vipers, uncle.” Elbert said, looking between Jon and Aerea with amusement. 

Jon shook his head as the three of them began to leave the hall, “You have only been to King’s Landing once, Elbert, during the King’s tourney, you have not experienced the city on its average day. A den of vipers would be an accurate description. Apologies, princess.” 

“No offense has been taken by me.” Aerea assured, “I too agree with your sentiment, but it is home, nonetheless. It’s honestly what makes traveling to the other Kingdoms so refreshing.” 

“So, you would say that the Vale is your favorite, princess?” Elbert asked cheekily. 

Aerea laughed, “I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer just yet, for I have not been to all the Kingdoms. It would be unfair to give judgement before I do.” 

“Well, I hope you remember how impressive our home is, the Gods only know that Brandon will try to strong arm you into saying the North is superior should you ever visit.” 

“He did offer to take me to the Wall and show me the Northern way of doing things.” 

“Do not allow young Brandon too much leeway, lest he turn a dragon into a wild wolf.” Jon added playfully. 

“An achievement he would take pride in no doubt.” Elbert said. 

Aerea laughed, enjoying the interaction and the twos presence. As the three made their way outside, Aerea was once again awed by the view that greeted her. 

The sky and the mountains seemed to never end, the air cold and sharp once it hit her skin, when she first arrived at the castle, Aerea thought how terrible the winds in winter must be, if this was to be considered autumn air. 

In the Godswood of the Eyrie, they found Robert and Ned, the two teenagers engaged in light sparring with each other. 

Ned had ducked under the swing of Robert’s hammer, making sure not to let his guard down and give Robert the opportunity to close the distance and knock him down. 

Robert grinned as he took another swing at Ned, almost hitting the white marble statue of a weeping Alyssa Arryn. 

“Robert, how many times have I told you to be careful of the statue?” Jon said, making him, Elbert, and Aerea known to two boys. 

Robert stopped what he was doing, grinning as he turned to face Jon, resting a hand on the statue, “Oh, I’m being careful, Jon. I’d never hit a lady with my hammer, not unless she asked me to.” 

The innuendo was not lost on Jon, and the man held the bridge of his nose, exhaling harshly, “My ancestors turn in their graves.” 

Aerea snickered at the lord’s exasperation, personally knowing how Robert could be. 

“Aerea! Why aren’t you joining us?” Robert said as he caught sight of his royal cousin. 

Aerea sighed, “As much as I enjoy sparring, I do have other interests. And there are so many times a person can be thrown around by you before there is the risk of later brain damage.” 

Robert laughed, “It’s not my fault you’re so bad at dodging.” 

“Yes, completely my fault. Not that of person with arms bigger than my hand and who stands at over six feet tall.” Aerea said dryly. 

Robert only shrugged, twirling his warhammer in his hands. “Don’t worry, Aerea, I’m sure you won't be a tiny lizard forever.” 

“I think Aerea is plenty tall for her age, you’re just massive, Robert.” Ned said a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. 

“And proud of it.” Robert said as he flexed one of his arms. 

“There is such a thing as too much pride, you know?” Elbert said. 

“Whoever said that is a liar.” 

Whoever said that must have certainly met Robert Baratheon. Aerea thought. 

Ned rolled his eyes before looking at the princess, “Will you be joining us on our trip to Ironoaks?” 

“For how long? I can’t imagine it will be easy to have to go there and come back.” Aerea asked. 

The journey to the Eyrie was a treacherous one, and Aerea could did not think she would enjoy having the spend two days making her way down the mountain to the Bloody Gate, spend another two days traveling to Ironoaks, just to have to do it all over again when returning. 

The people of the Vale are made of harder things than most having to traverse such a harsh landscape.  

“You have to come, who knows when your father will let you out of your fancy castle again.” Robert said, “Besides, the journey won’t be as bad on the return, even if I would pay good coin to see you get winded again as you did when we were coming here.” 

Aerea ignored the joke made at her expense, “What do you mean?” 

Jon was the one to answer her question, “Winter is soon approaching, which means my household will be making our seasonal journey down the mountain to take up residence in the Bloody Gate.” 

Robert nodded his head, “See? Now stop being lazy and making excuses.” 

“Ned.” Aerea said, looking at the Northerner with a blank expression, “When we get to the Giant’s Lance, don’t stop me from pushing Robert off the cliffside.” 

Robet squawked in offense as everyone else laughed at Aerea’s fake threat.

~X~

Aerys read the letter over again, his face passive as everyone in the chamber waited for his reaction. 

In this letter, Denys Darklyn was still refusing to pay his taxes to the Crown but instead of ending it there, invited the king to Duskendale to hear his petition for a new charter, one that would be far more charitable to the Crown. 

Aerys tossed the letter onto the table, “It seems Denys has grown bolder as of late, just when I thought it had reached its peak.” 

“Your Grace.” Pycelle spoke out, “What do you intend to do?” 

Aerys thought about it, even if Denys created a charter that would be more favorable, why should he reward a lord who went against the orders of his King? 

It would make me look weak if I entertained the idea of giving Darklyn a charter after he refused payment to the Crown. Then the other rabble lords of Westeros will think they can do the same. Aerys thought. 

“Your Grace, you must refuse this offer with the strongest possible terms.” Tywin said after a few moments of waiting, “Denys is a lord who is spurning the Crown’s authority, and now he has the arrogance to ask you to meet him? It will be seen as weakness by the realm at large if you entertain even the thought of giving into Denys’ demands.” 

Aerys glared at Tywin, almost baring his teeth when the word ‘weakness’ left Tywin's lips, “Is that what you think, Tywin?” 

“It is.” Tywin said strongly. 

Where Aerys was going to decline the invitation, Tywin’s words had immediately changed his mind. The idea that Tywin, and by extension others, thought he was incapable, now made him eager to demonstrate his ability to handle the situation without the help of his Hand. 

“I will be heading for Duskendale, and I shall settle the issue personally and bring the defiant Lord Darklyn to heel.” Aerys declared. 

Tywin frowned, “Your Grace-” 

“I have made up my mind, Tywin.” Aerys growled, “I will handle Darklyn and his brood.” 

“Father.” Rhaegar spoke out, “What can Darklyn offer that he cannot here in the capital? At the least, he should come here and present himself before you. He had no issue doing so before.” 

“My reasons are my own.” Aerys said strongly. 

“At retinue must be made at once, if you plan to leave quickly, Your Grace.” Lucerys said, clearing his throat as he looked between father and son. 

Rhaegar clenched his jaw, sitting back in his seat 

Aerys waved his hand dismissively, “I will not need a large force. I’m sure once Darklyn takes one look upon me on his land, he will understand the situation he has foolishly thrown himself into.” 

“Your Grace-” 

“Enough, Tywin. I have spoken.” Aerys spat before looking at the rest of the small council, “I shall leave for Duskendale in a week’s time with a small retinue and one Kingsguard.” 

Aerys turned back to Tywin, waiting to see if his Hand would argue with him again, but Tywin stayed silent, his gaze locked on the table. 

Aerys smiled, smug in his victory, “Good. Now send a letter to Darklyn telling him that I accept his invitation. And get the servants to me prepare for my journey.” 

Aerys did not wait for any affirmations from the men at the table before stood up and strolled out of the small council chamber. 

Symound sighed, placing his hand on his forehead, “This has become a bigger issue than I thought possible.” 

Lucerys turned to the Master of Whisperers, “What do you think Darklyn plan to accomplish with this endeavor? He can’t possibility think he can convince the King, can he?” 

“I do not know.” Gurnar admitted, “I doubt there is much Denys can do to change the King’s mind, but I still can’t think of what this invitation can be for.” 

“We will still need to speak with him about his traveling party.” Qarlton said, “We cannot allow him to leave with a small group, there are dangers that will need to be accounted for.” 

“His Grace is unlikely to change his mind on that decision, Lord Qarlton. The best we can do is pick the most capable of men to go with him.” Pycelle said. 

“We will convene later to go over the details.” Tywin addressed the council, “For now, I will send word to Duskendale.” 

Tywin stood, his head facing downwards as he gathered his things as the chamber emptied, “Was there something you needed, Prince Rhaegar?” 

Rhaegar’s expression was passive as he stared at the Hand, clashing with the storm of emotions he was hiding beneath this veneer. “My father cannot be allowed to travel to Duskendale. He must change his mind.” 

“We both know that your father will not.” Tywin said. 

“So why did you tell father that he should refuse Darklyn’s invitation?” Rhaegar asked. 

“Because I believe it was the right course of-” 

Rhaegar did not allow the man to finish, “That is not what I meant, Lord Tywin.” 

Tywin finally looked up, his green eyes meeting Rhaegar’s dark indigo ones, “I was giving the King my opinion of the situation as his Hand, it is up to his discretion what to do with that advice.” 

Rhaegar said nothing else as he watched Tywin leave the small council chamber. There was something that Tywin was planning or keeping hidden, but Rhaegar did not know what. 

His actions were just too suspicious for it to be anything but, and it was maddening to Rhaegar that he was the only one who could see it. 

The prince found himself annoyed by how easily his father was allowing himself to be manipulated, both by Denys and Tywin. Rhaegar thought back to what he had said to Rhaella, and felt reaffirmed in his belief that Aerys was leading the realm into worse times.

~X~

The Dun Fort, Duskendale  

Denys stood nervously in the out yard of the Dun Fort, his riders had caught sight of the King and his retinue, reporting back that they were only a short distance away. 

A hand curled around Denys' bicep, grasping his attention. “You must relax, husband.” 

Denys sighed, “I know, I just cannot help myself. I thought this was a good idea, but now with the King soon to arrive, I feel scared that this will end badly for us. I don’t know what I was thinking allowing Symon to convince me of this.” 

Denys looked at his wife, Serala was a tall woman, a few years younger than him with deep olive skin, long black hair, and brown eyes. She was dressed in the colors of his house, smiling patiently at him as she held onto his arm. 

“But once the King sees how deeply the people of Duskendale need this treaty, he will be endeared to our plight.” Serala said. 

Denys shook his head, “Aerys has never been known as a sympathetic man.” 

“You don’t know, you may be surprised.” 

Denys did not respond, his earlier confidence having left him and replaced with a depressive acceptance that things would be going the way that everyone hoped they would. 

“The King is coming!” A knight standing along the wall of the castle shouted, alerting everyone below. 

Denys stood straighter, “Open the gates!” 

The gates were swiftly opened, allowing the approaching group to quickly enter the castle grounds, Aerys atop his horse leading the retinue of less than twenty as Ser Gwayne Gaunt rode beside him. 

Denys bowed and the rest of his household quickly followed as Aerys dismounted, “The Dun Fort is yours, Your Grace.” 

Aerys looked around the castle with distaste before his eyes fell on Denys, “Lord Darklyn, you have invited me to discuss the treason you have committed against the Crown.” 

Denys gulped, “No, Your Grace, I only-” 

“Is that not what you did?” Aerys asked, “You have withheld your taxes and refused to pay them, instead asking me to come here to talk about a proposal that I have already rejected.” 

Denys began to flounder, unable to find the words to argue with the man before him, and so Serala jumped in to save her husband. 

“Your Grace, truly we feel ashamed for our actions, but they were actions done out of desperation.” Serala began, “The lands House Darklyn and it bannerman reside over have been in decline for decades, almost a century. We ask and plead for this charter as a means of survival and growth.” 

Aerys sneered, “And who is this Myrish whore you have brought before me, Darklyn? Don’t you know that discussions like this are for the civilized?” 

Denys froze when he heard this, his fists clenched at his sides and his face turning red, but he forced himself not to act on the insult that was thrown so blatantly at his wife. Everyone else in the yard watched with anger and disgust on Lady Darklyn’s behalf. 

Serala did not allow her expression to change, still staring at the King with determination and the same cordial smile. “Your Grace-” 

“Enough of this farce! This little rebellion of yours is over, now bring out the coin you have been withholding!” 

Serala tried to step closer, “Please, at least give us the opportunity to-” 

“Ser Gwayne! Get this unsightly creature away from me!” Aerys yelled at the Kingsguard. 

Gwayne grabbed Serala by the arm and yanking her away from the King, causing the woman to trip over her own foot and fall to the hard ground. 

“Serala!” Denys cried, jumping out of his stupor, and rushing towards his fallen wife, only to be punched in the face by Gwayne, his nose immediately breaking as he was knocked backwards. 

Gwayne stood over the married couple, his face tense as he looked back at Aerys, the King was giving him an expectant look, grimly, Gwayne turned around and tried to drag Serala away. 

Denys’ vision became blurred, but he was able to see just enough to witness his master-at-arms rush towards the Kingsguard with his sword unsheathed. “Symon, no!” 

But he was too late and just before Gwayne could realize what was happening, Symon had ran him through from behind, piercing his heart and killing him near instantly. 

Shock and horror ran through everyone standing in the vicinity; Symon Hollard had killed a knight of the Kingsguard in defense of his liege lord. 

“How dare you...” Aerys’s face had darkened, and he glared at Symon with nothing but utter hatred, pointing his finger at him, “Kill him! Kill this man!” 

Most of Aerys’ remaining knights and guards sheathed their weapons and ran at Symon while the rest formed a protective circle around Aerys. 

Despite what he had done, many men in yard were partial to Symon and were not going to allow him to be murdered for protecting Denys and Serala, and so they promptly moved to intercept the King’s men, cutting them down with intensity. 

“No... stop... stop fighting!” Denys tried to speak, but his throat felt as if it was closing as he watched the one-sided slaughter, his shouting going ignored. 

By the end, every single man that had come with Aerys to Duskendale was dead, their bodies strewn around the King like puppets whose strings had been cut. 

Aerys was shaking, for the first time in years he felt fear wash over him as he stared at the dead bodies littering the ground. 

“Lord Denys.” Symon turned to the other man, waiting for any kind of instruction. 

Why, Symon, why? Denys thought, wondering just what could have been going through his old friend’s mind make him think drawing his sword of a Kingsguard would be a good idea. 

He too was also questioning the actions of his knights and guards, wondering why they too would think the same, and would ignore him as he yelled at them to stop their advance. 

“You worthless ingrates!” Aerys roared, glaring at them all with wide manic eyes, “This is treason! You think you can get away with this?! I will have each and every one of you disgusting pieces of shit tortured and hanged for this!” 

Terror gripped Denys, his heart racing in his chest and his breathing becoming erratic as he felt his body grow clammy with sweat. 

“Denys.” Serala gripped her husband’s arm, her own expression one of unbridled fear. 

Denys took one at his wife and then everyone else in the yard, watching as the situation they were now in started to dawn on them. It was then that Denys, for the first time that day, was able to speak clearly and confidently as he pointed at the Aerys. “Arrest the King.” 

Aerys eyes widened, “You-” 

Symon moved, grabbing Aerys, and locking his hands behind his back, his grip unrelenting even as Aerys struggled and tried to escape. 

“You can’t do this! I am your King! Do you hear me?! I am the King!” Aerys roared as two other men helped Symon carry him inside the Dun Fort. 

“Denys, you can’t arrest the King!” Serala exclaimed, staring at her husband as if he had lost his mind. 

“I... We don’t have a choice. He will kill us.” Denys said. 

Serala glared at him, “And you don’t think he will not kill us now?! You have sealed our fate!” 

Denys shook his head, “I will keep us safe.” 

“Denys-” Serala watched as her husband walked away from her, heading inside the keep. 

She could not shake the fear that was filling her very soul over what the future would bring for them all now that they had reached this point of no return.