Chapter 60: Splintering Off

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"A winner is not chosen by who collects the success, but who collects the most fame

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"A winner is not chosen by who collects the success, but who collects the most fame."

This was it, the final duel for the tournament. No one knew who was more nervous, the crown Princess or her daughter. They both fidgeted in their seats and worried for their husbands. The crown was now so drunk that some of them almost fell head first over the railing. Alicent and Otto had returned to their positions, Aegon was nowhere to be found. Halaena's eyes were obviously searching for her husband but she stayed silent. Alaesys reached over and grasped at her hand that nearly tore through her gown skirts.

"I'm sure he's just fetching some water." Lies. It was all lies. But the Princess took a shaky breath and nodded. The announced shouted out for the final time this evening and all eyes were up one him.

Daemon came strutting out first. It was no surprise that he asked for the favor of his wife again. Rhaenyra tried not to show any worry. She knew her husband was a strong and confident fighter but it had been many years since he had faced a competitor worthy of him. The Princess leaned forward and placed her hand on his cheek under his helmet. Daemon leaned his face into her touch and gave her the softest eyes.

"I cannot let this young whelp embarrass me." He chuckled. He looked to his daughter who had barely moved an inch from her seat. He gave a single nod, biting his tongue from making further comment. Daemon urged his horse towards their end of the field and readied himself.

Aemond was last to emerge into the gate. He had changed out of his armor, pieces that made the entire crowd gasp and whisper amongst themselves. The chest piece and bottom half were still the same deep Targaryen red and black. However along his arms down to his wrist were carvings of names. The names of his wife and children. These were not handmade by the finiest blacksmith. In fact, Alaesys knew that handwriting was Aemond's, carved into the steel with a sharp knife.

His helmet was what was new. The peak fell down at the center of his forehead, a twisted version of a bird and a dragon in appearance. Long curved horns spiraled down the back, looking sharp enough to cause damage of their own. Aemond locked eyes with his grandfather as he approached. Otto did not back down, keeping his eyes locked into Aemond's until he fully stood on horseback at the fence.

"Issa ābrazȳrys, nyke iepagon aōha blessing." My wife, I ask for your blessing. Alaesys stood on her shaky legs but did not take a step forward. Instead, she lifted up her skirts and approached her grandfather who barely looked strong enough to lift his head. Servants had piled pillows against his sides so he did not aggravate his wounds any further. But when he saw Alaesys approach him, he seemed to instantly perk up.

"Grandfather, would you like to join me?" She carefully grabbed his hand, fighting back tears when his thumb instantly ran across her knuckles.

"Of course, Aemma." Alaesys had never met her grandmother, passing long before her birth. She knew how much the Queen had meant to her grandfather. Even as a young child, Alaesys quiet and meek nature as a young lady reminded Viserys of his late wife. He sometimes thought his wife was reincarnated into his granddaughter.

His little dove.

A guard followed behind the pair just to insure that the King did not take a tumble. Alaesys guided him down with gentle hands. When they finally stood on the overlooking platform, Aemond seemed to stiffen at the sight of his father. He kept his eyes on his wife. He looked to be almost pleading with her. She held out her offer to her husband, who leaned down to kiss the back of her hand before taking it.

"Aemond, come here." Aemond could not say when the last time his father had even acknowledged him. Aemond leaned forward and held onto the railing. Visery's laid a shaky hand on Aemond's shoulder. Aemond sucked in a tight breath and held it. "You remind me of my father. Strong, witty, a true Targaryen."

Alaesys held onto Viserys arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Many jealous eyes turned to the old king. From his wife, to his daughter and to the prying Aegon who stood in the shadows. Aegon felt his blood boil.

HE was the eldest son.

His FIRST son.

Alicent and Otto shared a look. The queen shrunk under her fathers gaze and kept her lips sealed. Aemond bowed his head out of respect and Viserys patted his shoulder. "Now go and defeat the old bastard. It is time someone put him in his place."

Daemon heard his brothers cruel joke and gritted his teeth. A similar anger boiled in both bellies of Daemon and Aegon. Aemond bowed his head at his fathers comment. He whispered a quick parting to his wife and took his position at the other end of the field.

Alaesys helped her wobbly grandfather back to his seat. Alicent nearly glared daggers at the young princess but his then with a tight smile. Alaesys returned to her seat with sweaty palms.

The dust stirred up around the hooves of the steeds. Alaesys chewed on her inner cheek out of nervousness, she almost wanted to close her eyes and block out everything around her.

The trumpet sounded and the noise was deafening. Both men dropped their weapons and charged forward. The glint of the paint shimmered in the light as both narrowly missed one another.

Alaesys let out a sigh of relief that mirrors that of her mothers. Rhaenyra knew her husband had not seen battle in quite a few years. But there was before her with a cruel smile.

Daemon's heart raced in a way it had not for years. The rush of battle was quite different then anything he could have experienced sitting in a castle all day.

The weapons were drawn at the ready again. The men charged at one another and again, a narrow miss. Alaesys felt her heart skip a beat when Aemond put a hand to his face to wipe off the Knick of blood on his cheek.

Daemon had meant to do that.

Alaesys knew her father well at this point. If he had meant to harm Aemond already he would have. This was a warning wound. Aemond felt a fury boil in his belly. For the third time the horses bucked forward without a command from the announcer. Aemond sat high on his saddle and aimed his weapon to the side, pushing it into the sternum of Daemons armor.

The lance splintered upon contact and Daemon was knocked from his steed. Rhanerya instantly rose from her seat, leaning over the edge to check on her fallen husband. Baela and Rhaena joined their step-mother, hands clasped over their mouths in horror. Aemond slowed his horse to a stop on the opposite end of the arena.

The crowd roared with delight and glee.

Daemon laid motionless on the dusty ground.

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