House of The Dragon:The Rise of the Emperor of the Seven Kingdoms

Maekar looked at Daemon, being carried on a stretcher, while the Maesters desperately treated him. The prince sheathed Blackfyre and looked towards the stands. Then, he noticed there were also Maesters in the royal box.

The prince narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Remembering Baelon’s scream moments ago, he seemed to understand something, but did not approach the royal box. Looking at the Gold Cloaks, Maekar approached and spoke in a calm tone.

"Bring the prisoner for trial before the king."

"Yes, my prince." The Gold Cloak spoke in a respectful tone and, along with another guard, headed towards the wooden platform, where Loreon could be seen sitting in the chair.

Soon, Maekar and Loreon were below the royal box. Jaehaerys could be seen with a calm face, but with a visible pallor.

Jaehaerys looked at Maekar’s blood-stained armor with a calm gaze, but there was a touch of desolation in the depths of his eyes. Brothers trying to kill each other was one of the worst things he had the displeasure of witnessing.

If it weren’t for the previous agreement, Daemon would not have left alive, and from the bloody fight earlier, he had no doubt that Maekar would kill Daemon.

Regaining his composure, the king looked at Loreon with a terribly cold gaze. If it weren’t for him, these things would not have happened. Now everyone knew that House Targaryen was not as united as it appeared to be.

"Loreon of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, your champion lost the trial by combat; the gods have decreed that you are guilty of your accusations. Do you have any last words?" Jaehaerys spoke loudly, and the entire arena fell silent.

The hundreds of thousands watching held their breath, and even if many couldn’t hear due to the distance, they could expect the news to reach them in a few minutes.

"When you arrive in the Seven Hells, I will greet you, Your Grace. After all, the future promises many things, like Fire and Blood." Loreon spoke with a smile. He was no longer afraid, especially after seeing Maekar and Daemon try to kill each other. He knew that, at that moment, House Targaryen was about to face another Civil War.

Just thinking about it, Loreon’s lips curved into a happy smile. He looked directly into the king’s eyes, as if he wanted to remember his appearance well.

Jaehaerys looked deeply at Loreon and replied in a calm tone. "Fire and Blood... Yes, Fire and Blood."

Moving his gaze to Vermithor, the old king didn’t even need to speak in High Valyrian for the enormous bronze-colored dragon to spread its wings and take flight. Moments later, the dragon landed in the arena with a thud. The enormous draconic head showed a cruel smile and approached Loreon.

At this moment, Loreon didn’t need to be a genius to know that Jaehaerys wanted to kill him using dragonfire.

"Dracarys." Jaehaerys spoke in a cold tone.

Vermithor opened its mouth and, deep in its throat, fire accumulated extremely quickly.

"We will see each other in the Seven Hells, Maekar." Loreon looked at Maekar and spoke in a calm tone before the bronze flames consumed his body.

The body of the Warden of the West melted; pieces of flesh, blood, and bones fell and finally turned into blackened ashes, completely disappearing from this world.

Maekar, who was nearby, felt the heat of the dragon’s fire but did not move; his hair fluttered amidst the sparks in the air and the ashes.

"In hell? I guess, when I die, I also want to be king of hell." Maekar murmured in a calm tone. He did not fear death, not after dying once. Of course, he valued his life, but that doesn’t mean he feared death.

In his eyes, death was just a more pleasant sleep; what changed was the way before sleeping. It could be painful or peaceful.

Vermithor looked at Maekar; its gaze was cold and cruel, a true tyrant in every sense of the word. It bared its teeth at the prince and then took flight.

Maekar watched the dragon fly away and wondered if Vermithor was the true face of Jaehaerys. A tyrant hidden beneath the skin of a peacemaker.

Looking up, Maekar saw the king’s eyes staring at him and smiled, bowed, and turned around, heading towards his tent. Gael stood up and followed her beloved without any hesitation. She didn’t care about the eyes of Jaehaerys or anyone else.

"I never imagined I would see our grandchildren wanting to kill each other." Alysanne said in a calm tone, looking at Gael and Maekar walking away. "Tell me, Jaehaerys, what is more important: the throne or family?"

Jaehaerys did not answer, as he also did not want to answer or even think about the possibility. For, after almost six decades of reign, he had long since ceased to know if he was the same king he was when he became king at fourteen.

At that time, he could say with conviction that it was family, but after so long, he didn’t know the answer. However, deep down he knew that the weight of responsibility outweighed his own family. Aegon’s prophecy made him want stability above all else.

The Long Night was coming, and a Targaryen should be on the Iron Throne to prevent the horrors that were to come.

This is the Song of Ice and Fire.

Seeing her husband’s silence, Alysanne already knew the answer and stood up. She paused for a moment, looked at her brother/husband’s aged face with a touch of emotion, and left without looking back.

Jaehaerys looked at the back of the woman to whom he would entrust his life without any hesitation and showed a complex look before his gaze became harder and more determined than ever.

’For the future and nothing more.’

-

Inside the tent, Maekar stood still while Gael removed his armor piece by piece.

Gael was silent as she looked at the bloodstains that belonged to her own family. The weight that this implied. She seemed to understand that, at this moment, things had completely changed.

"Is this how my father felt when he saw Maegor and Aegon fighting?" Gael asked in a gentle and soft tone.

"Perhaps." Maekar said with a tone of uncertainty. It was difficult to know what Jaehaerys thought when he saw Maegor and Aegon fighting for the throne.

Turning, he looked at Gael and asked in a gentle tone. "Gael, do you blame me for being this way? That if I weren’t like this, things would never have come to this point?"

Gael shook her head and held Maekar’s hand and gently kissed her beloved’s lips. She leaned into him and whispered. "I am a wife, and just as Visenya and Rhaenys supported Aegon in the conquest of Westeros, I will support you. I will conquer kingdoms in your name and make the lords kneel while singing praises and glories to you."

Maekar let out a low laugh and caressed her hair. He couldn’t help but murmur in a helpless tone: "Aegon conquered Westeros for a noble reason; I am just a man hungry for power."

Gael shook her head vigorously and looked firmly at Maekar. "I saw the diary you write every night. Your plans and the future for this kingdom. You will be better than any king before you and the greatest of all kings."

Maekar looked at Gael in surprise and smiled. He didn’t feel betrayed by Gael reading his diary; he didn’t hide the diary and didn’t even tell Gael not to read it, because he didn’t care if she had read anything.

"I’m happy to hear your words, but don’t praise me too much or I might inevitably become arrogant." Maekar said with a laugh as he slid his hands down Gael’s back and reached one of her perfect buttocks, where he squeezed tightly.

Gael showed a shy look and didn’t push his hand away; she even rubbed herself gently against him, as if she wanted to merge with him.

"I heard that men, when they come out of battle, need to de-stress." She whispered as she lifted her dress with a touch of shyness.

Maekar smiled and, before starting, closed the tent entrance, preventing anyone from entering and seeing.

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/GOTSW

Read my other books:

House of The Dragon: The Pale Prince

Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.

Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard