The Rise Of A Dragon - Chapter 24: Goodbye

Aerea prepares to leave Westeros for Essos, being sent on a quest she is not sure she will be capable of completing.

The princess’s chambers were silent, save for the faint, muffled sobs that carried through the heavy oaken door. Rhaegar stood there for a long moment, his hand hovering above the handle. He had followed his sister the instant their father had dismissed court, had watched her flee, her body trembling with each step she took.

“Aerea.” Rhaegar said softly as he knocked on the door.

There was no reply, only the rustle of sheets and a stifled sniff. Rhaegar waited for a few moments before trying again. “Aerea, please. It’s me.”

“Go away!” Aerea’s voice was small, strained, cracking on the last word. “Just-just leave me alone, Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose and then quietly opened the door.

The room was dim; the curtains were drawn tight, covering dying light of evening that glowed outside, Aerea’s bed was a tangle of sheets and silks, the canopy casting deep shadows over her small form. He could hear her broken little gasps between sobs that tore through him like blades.

“You shouldn’t have run.” Rhaegar said softly as he crossed the chamber with slow steps, “The court was gossiping about it.”

“I don’t care.” Aerea’s reply came out muffled from under the blankets.

He sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and he could feel the tremor of her breath through the covers. “Aerea…”

Rhaegar thought his sister would stay hidden underneath her blanket, but after a moment, a pale hand emerged, pushing the blanket back just enough for Aerea’s tear-streaked face to appear, her violet eyes were red and swollen; lashes spiked with tears.

“Why?” Aerea whispered, “Why is he doing this, Rhaegar?”

The question hit him like a blow; he wanted to give her an answer, to say it was for duty, or for the realm, or for some purpose that made sense, but he could not lie to her, not to Aerea.

“I don’t know.” Rhaegar said quietly, shaking his head, “Truly, I don’t. He… he’s not the man he once was. He was a cruel man before, but now he has truly gone mad and now you’re the one paying for it.”

Aerea flinched at his words, their father’s mental capacity was never something she liked to think about or discuss, but even she could not deny that Aerys’ declaration was not something that a sane person would make.

She loved her father, and he loved her, or at least she thought that he did because this also did not seem like something that someone who loved you would do to you.

Rhaegar reached out, brushing his thumb gently across Aerea’s cheek, wiping away the tears that still fell. “Listen to me, Aerea, you are not alone. I’ll find a way to protect you; I won’t let him send you off on a fool’s quest.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glimmering in the candlelight, then shook her head, “No, you won’t, you can’t. You know what he’s like; he won’t be swayed, he never listens to you or mother, and once he’s decided something…”

Her voice broke, and she pressed her face onto her knees, drawing her blanket tightly around her shoulders again.

Rhaegar’s hand lingered on her back, his thumb tracing slow circles to try and soothe her, “It won’t be forever, when I am King, I’ll bring you home.”

“When you’re King?” Aerea echoed, letting out a weak, humorless laugh, "That could be thirty years from now, maybe more, father is not so old, Rhaegar. By the time you wear the crown, I’ll be long dead in some foreign land.”

Her words hollowed something inside him; he could not tell her she was wrong or summon the strength to pretend, all he could do was sit beside her in silence, feeling her body shake beneath his hand.

At last, Aerea whispered, “I don’t want to go, Rhaegar, I’m scared.”

Rhaegar’s chest tightened, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, “I know, I know, sweet sister. But you’re stronger than you think, you always have been.”

“I don’t feel strong, I feel like he’s already killed me.” Aerea choked out, “And I don’t know why, did I... did I do s-something wrong?”

“You have done nothing wrong, Aerea.” Rhaegar quickly said, “

Aerea did not reply, only buried herself against him, her tears dampening his tunic. Her brother held her there even as her sobs began to quiet.

If she is lost to me, I will never forgive him. Never. Rhaegar thought, holding Aerea tighter.

For as long as he could remember, Rhaegar had complicated feelings towards Aerys, he had long since grown from the young boy who vied for his father’s attention and love, to a young man who viewed Aerys with mostly apathy and irritation.

But at this moment, Rhaegar felt true hatred towards his father. It was a similar feeling he had when he was eleven and realized just what Aerys was doing to Rhaella to get her pregnant almost every year, and he hated how helpless and useless he viewed himself to be each time Aerys hurt the two of the three people he loved most in this life.

Suffering was part of a hero’s journey, if it was just him, Rhaegar could manage Aerys’ treatment, knowing that it would all be in service of a higher calling, of his destiny.

But why would the Gods allow his siblings and mother to suffer as well? Was this all truly necessary for him to experience and witness so that he could become the savior the world needed him to be?

Rhaegar warred within himself, he needed something, anything that would allow him to make sense of what was happening to himself and his family.

Perhaps Tywin had the right idea of it; fa-Aerys should have died in Duskendale, it would have been better for all of us. Aerys Targaryen is not a man worthy of being a husband, a father, and certainly not of sitting on the Iron Throne. The longer he reigns, the worse the realm and my family be, until there is nothing left of either.

Aerys Targaryen could not be allowed to continue as he has, and while Rhaegar knew what he was thinking was treasonous, he could not help himself, Aerys had gone too far and needed to be stopped.

~X~

The Next Day

“Do you truly believe that you can convince your cousin to change his mind?” Cassana asked her husband as she watched him readying himself to leave their chambers. “Even Rhaella did not look optimistic.”

Both had seen Rhaella shortly before retiring for the night, seeing the red bruise that marked her face. Rhaella had not spoken to the pair as she walked past them, and both had heard the whispers that Aerys had been the one to hit his wife for daring to try and keep Aerea from being sent away.

Cassana stood and walked towards her husband, cupping the side of his face, “I do not want Aerys to turn his anger against you if he believes that you are trying to refuse him.”

Steffon sighed, “I must try, Cassana, I would not be able to live with myself if I did not. Sending Aerea off to the middle of the Dothraki Sea, with no one to accompany her and no way to provide for herself will be a death sentence.”

Aerys has never been so cruel to Aerea, so why would he do this now? Steffon thought as he kissed his wife and left the chamber.

He still could not believe that Aerys was expecting Aerea to go off and find Blackfyre, that Aerys believed that this was a sound and just act.

When Steffon reached the King’s chambers, only one Kingsguard, Ser Gerold, was standing watch as opposed to the usual two.

“Ser Gerold.” Stefon said in greeting, “I must speak to the King.”

Gerold nodded and turned around to address the King, just as a fierce scream came from the room.

“I will not change my mind, Selmy! Aerea is going to Essos, and she is going alone.” Aerys shouted.

Gerold cleared his throat, knocking on the doors, “Your Grace, Lord Baratheon is here and has requested an audience with you.”

After a few moments, Aerys spoke to them, “Let him in, Ser Gerold.”

When Gerold opened the doors and allowed him to enter the bedchamber, Steffon saw that Barristan Selmy was kneeing before the King, his head lowered.

Aerys was glaring at the Kingsguard and did not look away even as his cousin entered the room. “Leave, Selmy, I will not hear of this nonsense again.”

Barristan stood, bowing to the King, “Your Grace, my lord.”

Steffon watched as Barristan walked past him, the doors closing behind the Knight with a quiet thud.

“Cousin.” Aerys finally turned to face Steffon, smiling brightly, “It gladdens me to see you, I swear it is as of everyone else around me wishes to push me to madness.”

“How unfortunate.” Steffon said placidly.

“It is, first my wife, then my son, and now I have Barristan begging me to allow him to accompany Aerea on her mission?” Aerys' smile turned into a sneer, “I am the King! And I have declared that Aerea will go to Essos and retrieve Blackfyre, I will not change my decision!”

Steffon frowned, breathing deeply, “Cousin, I-”

“You as well, Steffon?” Aerys asked accusingly, his anger starting to rise, “I thought you would be the one to understand why this is necessary.”

“I cannot understand if I do not know the reason for this decision.” Steffon said, “You have not spoken to me about why this is necessary.”

“It is necessary because Blackfyre is a symbol of House Targaryen’s strength, of its fire, without our dragons, it is what shows the peons around us that we are their rightful rulers.” Aerys said, his eyes gleaming, “The lords of this forsaken continent think my blood and I weak. Why else would that worthless traitor Darkyln have taken me as his prisoner? They all scheme and plot in the darkness like rats waiting to feast upon us, having Blackfyre in our possession will show that our days of decline are long gone.”

“And why most Aerea be the one to retrieve the sword?” Steffon asked, refusing to show how his cousin’s manic behavior unnerved him. “Surely someone more capable could be given the task. I can go in Aerea’s stead-”

“No! It must be Aerea!” Aerys snarled, baring his teeth, “She is the only one who can succeed, I’ve seen it, Steffon, I’ve seen Aerea finding Blackfyre in my dreams.”

“Your dreams? But-”

“Yes, in my dreams, I am a dreamer, just as Denys once was, just as many other Targaryens, Steffon. I have seen what my daughter becomes, I know that she will find Blackfyre.” Aerys started to laugh, “Why else would father and mother believe the words of that wood witch? They must have seen just as I have the future of things, they knew her words to be true, that greatness would come from the union of Rhaella and I. This is just the start, once Aerea returns, the realm will witness our prosperity, Aerea will not only bring back Blackfyre, but she will leave behind her childishness, her softness, and will finally be what is needed of her.”

What is he talking about? Has he always thought this or is this a recent development? Steffon could only stare at the King, his hopes of convincing Aerys slowly dying. “Aerys, please, I know that you believe-”

Aerys turned to Steffon, staring at him blankly, “Are you against me, Steffon? Are you, my enemy? Do I need to fear you trying to depose of me?”

“No, course not, I would never-”

“Then do not question me! You are my cousin, and I care deeply for you, Steffon, but that does not make you invincible. I am your King first and foremost, when I say something will happen it will happen, and nothing you or anyone else says will change this. Do you understand me, Steffon?”

Steffon took a moment to respond, “Yes, I understand, Your Grace.”

“Then this is the last I will hear of this from you.” Aerys turned away from the other man, “Now leave me.”

Steffon immediately left the chamber, his fists clenched as he walked.

I truly am a craven, aren’t I? Steffon thought, guilt and pity beginning to form within him as he thought of the young princess that was being condemned for the wishes of a man who was losing his sanity.

~X~

A Few Days Later

Aerea felt numb as she stepped out of her bedchamber, seeing Barristan standing before her, her protector waiting to take her to the castle gates.

She only had a leather bag that she had swung across her back, filled with only what she could carry and viewed as essential like her clothes, a pouch of gold coins, and some bandages and tonics that Pycelle had given her. Her father had been adamant that anything else would only serve as a distraction or would slow her down.

He really is sending me off to die, isn’t he? Aerea thought, a shudder ripping through her body.

“Princ-Aerea.” Barristan said softly, looking at Aerea with remorse, “I… I had planned on giving this to you at a different point, but now, as you are… leaving, I thought it best that you have these now.”

It was then that Aerea noticed that Barristan had been standing with his arms behind his back as he brought them forward, revealing a sheathed sword and hunting knife.

Aerea took both items, looking up at Barristan confused, “Why?”

A small, painful smile appeared on Barristan’s face, “You have long since moved onto live steel and should have been given a true sword of your own a long time ago, but it took some effort to convince the King and when I did, I had both pieces made for you. And you are going to need the ability to protect yourself while in Essos.”

Aerea’s eyes began to sting, and she had to force herself not to cry. Aerea quickly placed the knife and sword on the floor and moved to hug Barristan, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Thank you, Barry.”

Barristan returned the hug, “There is nothing to thank me for.”

He had been unable to plead his case to Aerys and keep Aerea from leaving, nor was he able to convince Aerys to allow him to accompany Aerea to Essos.

The knight felt as if he had failed Aerea as if he was uselessly shepherding her forward towards her death.

This was no quest; it was exile; it was an execution and if anyone thought otherwise, they were either lying to themselves or were of the same breed as the King.

Aerea stepped away from the knight, bending down to pick up her newly gifted weapons and fashioned them to her waist.

“We… We should go. My father would want to be kept waiting.” Aerea whispered.

Barristan nodded his head stiffly, neither spoke as they began walking through the Red Keep,

Will this be the last time I can ever walk through these halls? That I will be able to see my family and friends again? Aerea sighed, every step she took was agony, and she wanted to do nothing more than to run back to her bedchamber and hide.

Aerea kept her face expressionless as she and Barristan passed various people, refusing to aknowledge them as they bowed and greeted her.

The servants, the nobles, the guards, the knights, none of them cared about her, not truly. Whether they pitied, admired, loathed, or were indifferent towards her, in this moment, she was nothing more than entertainment for them, her suffering a sight that they could not look away from.

If I was Rhaegar, would they care more? Or would they act the same way if their precious, comely, prince was in my position?

“Aerea!” The princess heard someone call out her name as she and Barristan exited Maegor’s Holdfast, forcing both to stop.

Approaching them from the serpentine stairs at the other end of lower bailey, was the Lord Hand’s daughter. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Aerea, breathing heavily as she quickly marched towards them.

This was the most frantic Aerea had seen the younger girl since the farewell feast at Casterly Rock, and it was the first time in the last few days that she and Cersei had been face to face with each other.

“Aer-Princess,” Cersei said as she glanced at Barristan before looking back at Aerea, hesitating for a moment. “I wish to speak to you.”

“Of course.” Aerea said before turning to Barristan, “Could you wait here for me, Ser Barristan?”

Barristan nodded, “I will, but you must remember that His Grace, the small council, and the rest of your family is waiting for in the Great Yard.”

“How could I forget.” Aerea muttered, as she and Cersei moved towards the stairs.

Cersei looked the older girl over, the charming smile and playful light in her eyes that usually framed Aerea’s face were nowhere to be seen. And she hated the saddened and placid expression that replaced it.

She looks like a kicked dog. Cersei thought, wanting to reach out and hold her.

It was not often that she empathized with others, she did not care enough to, but Aerea was different; she was the only person outside of her family that Cersei viewed as worthy of her care.

Aerea was a genuinely kind and pure person, and yet she was being thrown to the wolves on a so-called quest for glory.

“I haven’t seen you since… I was worried.” Cersei said awkwardly.

“I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone afterward what happened at court.” Aerea said, trying to smile, but it came off as more of a grimace. “But I’m sorry, that I worried you.”

Cersei shook her head, “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”

“What did you want to speak to me about?” Aerea softly asked.

“You shouldn’t be forced to leave; the King is a fool for making you do this.” Cersei said, her gaze hardened as she thought of Aerys.

Aerea’s eyes widened, rarely if ever having heard someone who was not her brother speaking ill of her father, and to see Cersei do so while looking so furious, it was shocking to her.

“No one is doing anything about it because he’s the King and that... sickens me.” Cersei said, spitting out her last words like a curse.

Aerys’ declaration reminded her of that terrible night after her father’s tournament, when Aerys had cruelly mocked her after Tywin’s request for a betrothal between herself and Rhaegar. No one had stood up for her either; no one cared for the embarrassment she was forced to endure or the tears she had shed, instead she was made into jape for those watching to gawk and laugh at.

“This shouldn’t be happening to you, Aerea, and if I could, I would take you back to Casterly Rock and keep you safe there forever.”

A true smile appeared on Aerea’s face, “You would fight off my father, all his men, abscond with me from this Keep, from the city, and take me back to your home? Don’t you know that kidnapping a princess is high treason?”

Cersei huffed, “I would, and it would not be kidnapping. A princess needs a knight to rescue them from their tower.”

Aerea’s smile grew, “And you are my knight? I didn’t know that you had trained with a sword or that you had shining armor.”

Cersei crossed her arms, a half-smile tugging at her lips despite the tears welling in her eyes, “Jaime is learning how to become a knight, so it can’t be that difficult. Besides, I already have some experience of my own.”

Aerea laughed, a small, broken sound that was more like a sob, but for a moment, the heaviness around them seemed to lift. “Experience? You have been given martial training? Somehow, I can’t imagine your parents allowing you to do wear trousers and wield a training sword.”

Cersei looked away shyly, “When we were younger, people had a much harder time telling Jaime and I apart.”

Aerea remembered the first time she met the Lannister twins and the first thing she noticed was their physical appearance and how alike the two were. So, she could see someone who had never met the twins or had only seen them from afar, unable to tell them apart if not for their clothing.

But now the likeness was lessening as they grew older, Jaime had become taller and more muscular, while Cersei remained slender and with her hair growing faster than her brother’s.

“I hated that we were given different lessons from each other, that I had to sew, dance, sing, while Jaime was taught to fight and rule. So, we used our looks to our advantage and would dress in each other's clothes and spend a whole day as the other, partaking in the other’s duties.”

“Then perhaps when I return, you can show me how skilled you’ve gotten from pretending to be Jaime.”

Cersei’s eyes widened, “You wish to... I haven’t used a training sword since.... my father would never allow me to do that; it would been seen as shameful.”

Aerea shrugged, “What he doesn’t know will not hurt him, and even Lord Tywin does find out, Cersei, don’t you know? It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“Who told you that?”

“Robert.”

Cersei could not stop the giggle that flew out of her mouth, causing Aerea to laugh as well.

“When you return.” Cersei echoed softly, though her gaze faltered.

Both girls fell silent for a long moment, their breaths mingling in the chilly morning air. The sky was still streaked with the soft light of dawn.

At last, Cersei removed her arms from her back and reached into her sleeve, drawing out what she had placed within it; the first item was a red handkerchief, and the second was a delicate golden hairpin in the shape of a lion, set with a ruby no larger than a raindrop.

“You had given me this when I was in a most terrible state.” Cersei said, her voice trembling slightly, as she held out the handkerchief. “You comforted me, and made me feel better after my humiliation, and it may not seem like much, but no one had ever done that for me.”

Cersei then pushed both items into Aerea’s hands, her cheeks turning red as she realized that Aerea had not looked away from her face, staring at her intently.

“Whenever I look upon this handkerchief, it makes me feel warm, safe, and it... it makes me think of you. So, if… if you ever feel alone, I hope that you look upon this favor I am giving you and remember that someone here cares for you, that someone is waiting for you to come home.”

She kept the handkerchief? And she uses it to think about me? Aerea thought.

Aerea stared at the gift, her throat tightening; she wanted to refuse, to tell Cersei to keep it, that it was too fine, too precious, but the look in her friend’s eyes silenced her. Slowly, she took the pin and fastened it into her hair.

She then placed the red handkerchief back in Cersei’s hand, wrapping her own hand around Cersei’s so that the girl’s fingers could grip the cloth.

“If this handkerchief means as much to you as this hairpin now means to me, then keep it, and when I come home, we will return our favors to each other.” Aerea whispered.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Cersei murmured, her voice breaking.

Aerea’s composer broke, and she threw her arms around Cersei, and the two clung to each other.

When they finally pulled apart, Cersei wiped her eyes and forced herself to smile, “Go, before someone sees me like this. My father would be livid if he thought I’d made a scene and debased myself in front of royalty and the castle’s servants.”

Aerea managed a weak laugh and stepped back, glancing one last time at her friend before turning toward the gates.

Barristan was waiting for her, silent and grim, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Without a word, she joined him, and together they continued their walk to the Great Yard.

Is this what heartbreak feels like? Cersei thought to herself as she watched Aerea walk away.

The pain she felt over Aerea leave was far worse than what she remembered experiencing when she realized that Rhaegar wanted nothing to do with her.

Am I in love with Aerea?

It was strange how right it was to think of Aerea romantically, realizing that all this time she had wanted the princess to be hers and hers alone.

And Aerea was being taken away from her, all because of the whims of a man who thought some sword was worth more than Aerea’s life.

~X~

When Aerea and Barristan reached the yard, the royal family was waiting for her before two large carriages and armed men on horseback.

Despite this supposedly being a family moment, nobles, knights, servants and guards all assembled on the walls above them, watching the spectacle.

When Aerea reached her family, Aerys placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them, “My beloved daughter, the blood of old Valyria flows strong in your veins. Today you depart not as a mere girl, but as a true Targaryen, a conqueror, on the path towards your destiny.”

Aerea said nothing as she bowed her head, the golden hairpin that Cersei had given her, glinting faintly in her hair as the light of the rising sun touched it.

“You will go forth to reclaim what is ours; Blackfyre, the sword of Kings, and in doing so, restore the pride and might of our House. Do this, and you will prove to all who doubt that the dragon’s fire still burns.”

“I will, father, I promise.” The words felt heavy as they left her mouth, and Aerea found herself hating the pride she could see in her father’s eyes as she said this.

Aerea then turned towards her mother, and Rhaella quickly hugged her, squeezing her with all her might, and Aerea could feel her mother’s tears dripping down and onto her shoulder.

Rhaella was not a tall woman, standing shorter than most, and for the past year, was longer tall enough to place her head onto top of her daughter’s as Aerea stood a few inches above her.

Even if she is taller than me, she’s still just a child, my child. And now I may never see her again. Rhaella thought.

When the Queen leaned back, she cupped the side of Aerea’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Be strong and stay safe, my sweet girl, and remember who you are. You are my heart, Aerea, wherever you go, that will never change.”

Aerea nodded, though her throat was too tight for words. She wanted to stay in her mother’s arms forever, to pretend that this was all some dreadful dream she could wake from, but then Aerys cleared his throat sharply, and Rhaella pulled away from her as if she had been burned.

When Aerea turned again, Rhaegar was waiting; his face was calm, but she could see the pain beneath the mask he wore, the quiet fury in his eyes that mirrored her own. He reached out and clasped her hand tightly, the gesture speaking more than words ever could.

“I’ll find a way to bring you home.” Rhaegar whispered under his breath.

Aerea shook her head faintly. “You can’t.”

Rhaegar’s jaw tightened, but he did not argue and instead, he raised her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

Aerea’s heart twisted painfully in her chest, and she quickly stepped away from Rhaegar and walked to where Viserys was being held by his nursemaid.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Vis.” Aerea whispered to her younger brother.

“Rea!” Viserys reached his arms out to her and was trying desperately to wiggle his way out of the maid’s arms to no avail, not understanding what was going on but wanting his sister to hold him.

Aerea frowned, but did not reach for him, knowing that if she did, she would struggle to let Viserys go.

Will he... will he even remember me when I come back? If I come back? Viserys is so young, will I be nothing but a hazy, distant memory? Aerea sadly thought.

Aerea noticed that Steffon and Cassana had arrived in the yard and were talking to her father; the couple looked solemn, as if burdened by the weight of the task Aerys had placed upon them. Steffon’s usual warmth was dulled by a faint nervousness, while Cassana’s eyes, though kind, flickered with pity whenever they met Aerea’s gaze.

When Aerys turned to her, his expression was one of satisfaction, not pride or tenderness, but something colder, sharper, as though he had accomplished some great and necessary duty. “It is time.”

Aerea’s heart thudded painfully in her chest as Aerys gestured toward the waiting carriage. She bowed her head to her father, fighting to keep her face composed, “Yes, Your Grace.”

She walked toward the carriage, each step heavier than the last. Barristan fell into step behind her, his silver armor gleaming faintly in the morning light; his face set in quiet determination, and when she reached the carriage door, Aerea hesitated and turned back one last time.

Aerys looked at his daughter cooly, his eyes filled with expectation, Rhaella’s cheeks glistening with tears, Rhaegar was beside her, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword, the other clenched into a trembling fist, and Viserys’ face was red as he cried, still reaching out for her.

“Goodbye.” Aerea whispered; the word almost lost to the wind as she tried to memorize her family's faces.

Then she climbed into the carriage, the door closing with a heavy thud, and through the small window, Aerea watched as the Red Keep began to recede, its towers fading into the pale light of dawn. She could still see her family standing there until the road curved, and they were gone from sight.

Aerea turned her gaze forward, toward the long road ahead, her fingers brushing against the golden hairpin Cersei had given her.

“I’ll find my way back.” Aerea whispered to herself.

Quicker than she liked, the carriages reached the docks of King’s Landing, and as she stepped out of her carriage, she took in the sound of gulls and the creak of mooring ropes as the morning tide began to swell. The air was thick with salt and the faint stench of fish, mingling with the scent of burning tar from the shipwrights’ fires.

Aerea’s cloak fluttered in the brisk wind as she looked upon the large ship before her. The Fury, Steffon’s flagship, gleamed with the proud banners of House Baratheon, the crowned stag on a field of gold. Cassana stood near the gangplank, overseeing the final loading of supplies while Steffon spoke with the captain.

Aerea’s eyes drifted and fell upon her trusted protector and teacher. Barristan looked every inch the knight she had always idolized; pure, steadfast, unyielding yet in his eyes shinned with regret.

When their gazes met, the knight inclined his head slightly, “Princess.”

“Ser Barristan.” Aerea’s voice was small, barely audible over the sound of the waves, “I must ask that-”

“I will watch over your father, mother, and your brothers.” Barristan declared, knowing what the princes were going to ask. “You have my word.”

Aerea nodded faintly, a small smile appearing on her face, “Thank you, Ser.”

Barristan bowed his head, and for a moment the façade of the legendary knight cracked; his mouth tightened, and his hand twitched toward her as he wished to offer comfort but could not, not when they were surrounded by all these people.

“Princess,” Steffon said as he stepped away from the captain, “It is time, we must leave.”

Aerea looked at Barristan one last time, drawing in a shaky breath and walking toward the gangway, the wood creaking beneath her feet when she stepped on it. Each step was one step further from her family, from the only home she had ever known.

When she reached the deck, she turned one last time, from where she stood, the Red Keep was just visible on Aegon’s Hill, sunlight glinting off its crimson walls. For a heartbeat, she thought she could see figures standing on one of the balconies, imagining that perhaps her mother, or Rhaegar, or even Cersei, were watching the ship prepare to sail.

Soon enough, a horn sounded from the docks, and the sailors around her started shouting as the mooring ropes were released, the ship lurching gently as the wind caught them. The Fury began to glide away from the harbor, cutting through the waves with steady grace.

Aerea remained at the rail, watching as the sprawl of King’s Landing grew smaller, her eyes studying the domes of the Great Sept, the towers of the Keep, the familiar curve of the Blackwater Bay, trying to commit all of it to memory. The city shimmered in the sunlight, beautiful and terrible all at once, until at last it was no more than a smudge against the horizon.

When it vanished entirely, she realized she was crying again, feeling the hot tears sliding down her cheeks and falling into the sea.

Beside her, Cassana Baratheon laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “We will look after you, my dear.”

Aerea tried to smile but could not, her heart felt heavy as stone. She turned her gaze eastward, toward the endless blue expanse of the Narrow Sea.

“I will come home. One day, I will come home.” Aerea whispered under her breath, a promise to herself, to her mother, to her brothers, to her father, to her friends, and to the Gods she was not sure were listening.