Chapter 42
~Half a Year Later~
SHIERA SEASTAR
It had been half a year since war had engulfed the Seven Kingdoms. The lords of the realm saw the Crown's actions in the Iron Islands as an overreach and rose in rebellion as they declared their support for the Blackdragon.
Frey, Butterwell, Peake, Bracken, Sunderlands, and Smallwood had declared their support for Daemon the Younger, son of Daemon Blackfyre, and crowned him the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
Sheira knew that the Crown was aware of treason brewing in the Halls of Riverlands, and so she was not surprised by them. No. What had surprised her was the treason of Lyonel Baratheon.
Few had thought that the famous Lord of Stormlands would turn his back on the Iron Throne and offer both his support and his aid to the traitors. Many Houses would join him in his treason, and with the betrayal of the Stormlands, the Iron Throne had an army aimed at its neck.
Lyonel Baratheon was no ordinary man, and his charisma drew many lords and knights to him. The Crown found itself struggling against the two-pronged attack from both the Riverlands and the Stormlands.
Amidst all that, Shiera found herself imprisoned in a singular room in Storm's End, as Aegor's prisoner. She was not treated as one, but that did not change what she was.
She leaned against the wall and gazed at the same Houses and the people she had been looking at for half a year. By now, she had memorized their routines, and much like every other week, there was a knock on her door as Aegor let himself into her room without her permission.
He walked in with proud and confident strides, yet she did not spare him a single glance as she continued to stare at the people down below.
"Will you not even greet me?" he asked, and was met with only silence as he came and stood behind her.
"Those smallfolk down there. Are they more interesting than me?" and again she had only silence to offer in resistance, and he finally grew rather irritated as he gave a warning.
"Perhaps I should have them all slaughtered," and she knew the kind of man he was, and knew that this was more than just an empty threat.
"Then they won't be able to steal away your gaze," and she bit her lip as she turned around to face him and saw him smile in victory.
They had been close once. Very close, and yet this was the reason she had chosen Brynden over him. Bloodraven was a cruel man himself, but he was not needlessly cruel.
He was cruel out of need and necessity, but Aegor was different. He was cruel out of desire, and that made them different.
"Do you really think that you can win this?" she taunted, and Aegor smirked as he slowly reached for her chin.
"I know so," and she scoffed.
"Then you are wrong," she retorted as she slapped away his hand. He had been a handsome man once, but the scars from his duel against Brynden had made his face misshapen.
His nose was bent slightly, and he had let his dark hair grow long.
"We will defeat you," she replied confidently.
"You have already lost the war. You just don't know it yet," and with those words, he backed away and sat himself down on a sofa.
"I know Brynden has your King surrounded in Whitewalls while Valarr holds the Laughing Storm in check at the Wendwater," and the young Prince had surprised them all by holding back Lyonel Baratheon and his armies on the Wendwater.
The Laughing Storm had been trying to push his way through the Prince's army for half a year, yet Valarr Targaryen held strong despite having only half the number of men.
"Soon enough, the Black Dragon will be slain, and with that, the war will be over," and Aegor Rivers laughed at her words.
"And that is where you are wrong," he claimed, making her frown.
"How?" she asked, and Aegor poured himself wine and sipped it slowly.
"Because Daemon was slain yesterday," and that was good news. Daemon the younger was one of Daemon Blackfyre's sons, and with him gone, the rebellion would die down.
The war was essentially over, and yet Aegor's face showed neither fear nor anguish over the death of his King.
"I must say Brynden has surprised me," he continued as he put down his cup.
"Even without his eyes, he made quick work of Daemon's army. I had thought that it would take him a year at least to kill that sword swallower, but he managed to do that in only half that time," and yet why was he not worried?
Aegor was amongst the few who knew the truth about Brynden's eyes, and that was why he had targeted her at the beginning of the war. He had attacked her and Princess Kiera's convoy as they were heading back to Kingslanding from New Haven.
He had lost some two hundred men doing just that, but in the end, he was able to bring them here. She knew that he would not dare harm her, so she was not worried for her life.
But Princess Kiera. She was different. Aegor had then used her life as a bargain for her to perform magic, as he had her blind Brynden. He could still see, but he no longer possessed his thousand eyes.
"I can't imagine what he would have done if he still had his magic," and she narrowed her eyes.
"You knew that Daemon would die," and Aegor nodded.
"As I said, the true war has just begun," and there was a smirk on his face.
"Daemon was a sword swallower. He was a good warrior, but he was no dragon. He was only meant to be a distraction, and now he has done his job," and if he was meant to be a distraction, then that meant only one thing.
"Haegon?" she guessed, and he was Daemon Blackfyre's fourth son.
"The Riverlands were expendable. The true prize in this war is Kingslanding, and by the week's end, I will have it surrounded," and that was troublesome.
"Haegon will lead the Golden Company and take over Dragonstone. With Dragonstone in my hand, all of the Crownlands will be at my mercy," and that was shrewd of him, and how she understood why he had targeted Brynden at the start of the war.
"Is that why you took away Brynden's powers?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Indeed," he did not deny the allegation.
"Last time, we did not lose the war to the Targaryens. No. We lost to him. I lost to him," and that was no exaggeration, for Brynden had played an instrumental role during the last war.
"So, I knew that if I were to win, then I needed to neutralize him," and then his gaze met hers.
"And who else but you could accomplish that?" That was why he had struck at her first, capturing her along with Princess Kiera so that he could neutralize Brynden.
She felt weak as the realization landed, but she refused to let him see her doubts. For the first time ever since the war had begun, she felt nervous about its outcome.
Still, Aegor was able to see through her face.
"You need not worry through," he spoke as he rose up after drowning his cup.
"When this war is over, I will offer Bloodraven the same mercy he offered me," and she gulped.
"You planned this well," and he had, for even she had not imagined that he would use one of Blackfyre's sons as bait to draw away Brynden.
"I had years to do so," but he would not win.
"But the Brynden is not the only one you need to fear," and she stepped forward at those words, until she was inches away from him.
"A threat even greater than Brynden himself," and he raised a brow at her challenge.
"You speak of Matarys the Matchless," and few had laid eyes on the Prince ever since the war had begun.
"I know of him and the danger he presented. It was why I broke him first," and he smiled in victory.
"Whispers. Rumors. Then the curse," and her fists balled up at the mention of that.
"I have yet to break his body, but I have already broken his will. His spirit," and she shook her head.
"He is not so easy to break," she retaliated.
"Then where is he! Where is the Matchless Prince? I hold you and his brother's wife as hostages, his brother is fighting desperately to hold back Lyonel's men while Brynden is fighting the rebel lords in Riverlands, yet I have seen no sign of him anywhere at all," and even she had no answer for him.
"I thought as much," Aegor declared victoriously before he turned around and headed towards the door.
"You won't win this war," she repeated before he could leave.
"We will see about that," he answered back with a chuckle.
"I rue it, you know," she spoke weakly now, as she thought about his mistake.
"I rue the day I asked Brynden to spare your life," and she saw his expression shift at her words.
"I should have let hi kill you on that day...."
.
.
.
Miles away, a group of four traveled through the fields of the Reach on foot. They wore thick cloaks and covered their faces. The group of four was as strange a group as any, for it was made up of men of all sizes.
There was a giant in the group, and then a normal-sized man, followed by a young, small lad. The last member of this group was a babe, barely half a year old, bound to his father's body in a cloth cradle.
They had been traveling for many a moon now, and they finally slowed down as they came upon a castle standing tall on the Northern shore of a lake.
"We are here," the giant spoke as he jumped off his horse.
"Aye, we are..."
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