Like Father, Like Son | House of the Dragon

The Beginning

Greetings everyone, welcome to my fic 'Like Father, Like Son' = You may find this fic to be familiar, that is because it was previously going under the name 'The Bronze Prince'
[No more resets, I promise]

I wanted to change the way the OC interacted with the world, feeling he may have been too extreme beforehand and bordered on 'edgy'. also some of the plots were not good.

114 AC

King's Landing

The doors burst open, and a man clad in runic bronze armour walked over towards the curtains, drawing them open and allowing the sun to shine through.

"Are you still abed?" the man sighed "how often must I wake you, hm? Perhaps until you are old and frail."

"You'll be dead before then." the prince mumbled, running his hands across his eyes before letting out a loud yawn and throwing the covers back. Aerion then sat and stretched his arms, looking towards the man, who looked less than impressed.

"I jest of course, Rodrik." Aerion continued, a fake smile forming on his lips "Knowing the god's love for you, you'll live until the ripe old age of a hundred."

"I certainly hope not." he chuckled. Aerion pushed himself up and walked over towards the window, his gaze falling upon the inner courtyard "Are you prepared for today? It is an impressive feat to compete in a tourney at the age of six and ten."

The castle was busy with preparations of the wedding celebrations between his cousins, Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. Servants walked with haste and the knights prepared themselves for the tournament.

"Of course, King Maegor won a tourney at my age." Aerion looked back "As did my father, it is in my blood."

"It has nothing to do with blood, my prince. Both your father and Maegor the Cruel were fierce warriors, they trained from a young age, just as you have." Rodrik said "Now ready yourself and meet me in the courtyard, we must train before the melee."

As Rodrik made his departure, Aerion turned back towards the window, looking out at the sprawling city below. Rodrik had always been in his life since a young age, serving as his sworn shield, though nothing was known of him before then or how he came into his service.

Servants came in shortly after, each carrying jugs of boiling water to fill the tub that sat in front of the fireplace. He stepped over towards his desk, removing a pendant from his neck with the Targaryen coat of arms on its face.

As he removed the pendant, he looked at himself in the mirror against the wall.

He bore an uncanny resemblance to that of his father, Daemon Targaryen, with a chiselled jawline and porcelain skin. His silver-gold hair flowed like a cascade, and his lilac eyes burned with the fire of dragon's blood. Aerion's straight nose, sensuous lips, and enigmatic smile added to his regal allure.

"The bath has been drawn, my prince." one of the male servants gained his attention, and he placed the pendant down on the desk, a few of the servants remained in his presence as he undressed from his smallclothes.

He stretched a foot into the bath, and at the corner of his eyes he noticed as one of the servants moved their eyes from him, and he let out a small smirk, he submerged the rest of his body into the scalding water, unflinching at the temperature.

The servants were dressed in red with the three-headed dragon embroidered on the chest "Have my clothes been prepared?" he asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the tub.

"Yes, my prince." a female servant responded.

"Good." he replied, briefly opening his eyes before addressing them "You all may take your leave." his gaze lingered on the girl, and halted her leave with a gesture "No." he said "You shall remain."