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The feast in the throne room had grown louder by the hour. Cups clashed, the air was heavy with wine and roasted meats, and laughter swelled beneath the jagged shadow of the Iron Throne. Lords from every corner of the realm feasted.
Aeron sat among them, but his violet gaze kept drifting to the high, blackened ceiling, to the torches guttering against the stone. His plate was half-full, his cup barely touched. Where others lost themselves in drink and cheer.
He leaned toward Daenerys, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
"This entire charade… it is not for me," he said. "Drunken laughter and pretending people. I'd rather be gone from here."
Daenerys's lips curved faintly, half amusement, half agreement. She had been smiling for hours, greeting lords, answering the same questions wrapped in different tongues. Now her shoulders eased, and her violet eyes met his.
"You read my thoughts," she admitted. Then, after a beat "Though if we vanish, they'll take it as insult. These lords cling to honor like babes to milk."
Aeron gave a small, careless shrug. "Their honor is of no concern to me. Let them take insult. It matters not."
That earned him a sharp, knowing look from her. She leaned closer, her words calm.
"And that is why you leave diplomacy and words to me. Power alone wins fear, but respect… respect must be shaped."
The corner of Aeron's mouth twitched into a smile. "So you say."
She turned then, catching Tyrion's eye across the table. The Hand had been watching them with a sharpness dulled only slightly by wine. With a small flick of her hand, she summoned him closer.
Tyrion leaned in, voice pitched low. "I take it you wish to be elsewhere, Your Graces?"
Daenerys nodded. "Distract them. Keep their tongues busy and their cups full. If they notice we've gone, they must not feel slighted."
Aeron added dryly, "Or let them feel slighted. It changes nothing."
Tyrion's mouth curled into that sly, foxlike smile of his. "Ah, but it does, my lord. A lord slighted is a lord whispering. And whispering, as I've learned, spreads faster than wildfire. Best not to give them reason tonight to be treacherous we have plenty of idiots like that already, when all are drunk and their memories are pliable. Leave that work to me."
Daenerys smirked at Aeron. "You see? He understands."
Aeron huffed something between a laugh and a growl. "Fine. Spin your words, Tyrion. We'll leave you the court to charm."
"I live to serve," Tyrion said with mock solemnity, lifting his cup in salute.
And with that, Aeron rose, his hand closing around Daenerys's wrist not rough, but firm, certain. He pulled her with him, not toward the dais or throne, but straight through the crowded hall, past the lords and ladies still lost in merriment.
At the doorway, their guards straightened but did not move. Aeron strode past them without a word, Daenerys keeping pace beside him, her hand in his. The crowd scarcely noticed at first, their attention soon caught by Tyrion Lannister, who had already stood atop a bench, cup raised, weaving some wicked tale about a strange battle he had in Essos, Laughter erupted anew, drowning suspicion.
But not every eye was so easily fooled.
From her place at a nearby table, Olenna Tyrell watched, her keen gaze sharper than all the swords that made the Iron Throne behind her. The lords laughed at Tyrion's tale, goblets spilling, meat bones cracking between teeth, but she saw it, Aeron's hand closing around the queen's, the two of them slipping out into the torchlit corridor beyond.
The Queen of Thorns sipped her wine, the ghost of a smile creasing her withered lips.
"Well," she murmured to herself, "if the king himself finds this so boring that it made him leave and make love instead, then mayhaps he's more honest than the rest of us."
And she raised her cup, drinking deep, while chaos and laughter roared on in the hall of the Iron Throne.
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The royal chamber of the Red Keep had changed. Where once the Lannisters filled the place with crimson banners and lions wrought in gold, there was now silk of deep Targaryen black, dragon motifs stitched across the hangings, and firelight dancing in polished obsidian vases. The oppressive cold of the Iron Throne chamber was absent here this was warmer, softer, though no less Targaryen.
Aeron stood by the window, his black armor peeled away, only the undergarments beneath his mail visible now. He ran his fingers over the carved edges of the stonework, faintly remembering his last visit.
"I've been here before," he said at last, voice low, reflective. "When I was planning to speak with the former boy-king. But he was gone at the time. And now… it seems you've changed the decoration."
Daenerys paced slowly across the chamber, the fire casting shadows across her fine violet eyes. Her voice was softer than usual.
"I did. I wanted no trace of Lannister or Baratheon here. Bad memories. Traitors and rotten blood. I burned most of it."
She stopped, her expression tightening.
"I even found something hidden a head. A human head, pierced with arrows. Left to rot in the walls of this chamber."
Aeron turned, his violet gaze falling on her with steady certainty.
"That must have belonged to Joffrey," he said without hesitation. "That one was a sick bastard. One of the first I rid this realm of. Keeping that sort of creature alive would have been the worst cruelty of all." His jaw tightened. "It would have doomed Westeros. At least his little brother was sane. Weak, of course, but sane. And that is why I spared him alongside his insane mother."
Daenerys approached him then not as a queen to a king, but as a woman drawn toward the one she trusted, desired. Her steps were slow, swaying faintly with intent, when she reached him, she slipped into his arms with a movement both soft and commanding, her breath warm against his throat.
Her lips curved, and her tone turned husky, lust wrapping around her words
"So why did you bring us here, my king?"
Aeron tilted his head downward, his piercing violet eyes catching hers. They burned with intensity, yet softer now.
"Remember what I said about your curse?"
Her breath hitched. She nodded slowly, her forehead brushing his chest. "How could I forget it? That curse has haunted me all my life now. I already accepted it long ago. I made my peace with it..."
He hushed her with a gentle hand against her lips, his touch firm yet tender.
"Well, Don't," he murmured. "I can fix that."
His hand slid up, cupping her face between his fingers, steadying her. His eyes flared brighter, violet light spilling from them like fire. From his palm spread a strange glow, wrapping around her head, seeping into her like liquid warmth.
Her breath quickened; the chamber blurred, her vision swimming for a moment as if she had been cast adrift in some storm. But then it cleared. Normal. Her breath came steady, her chest rising and falling as though freed of some invisible weight.
He released her slowly.
Her eyes widened, her voice trembling between disbelief and awe.
"What did you just do?"
She pressed her hands against her own body, feeling nothing strange, only herself. "I feel… normal. Other than the blur in my eyes a moment ago, I feel nothing changed."
Aeron smiled, the kind of smile that carried certainty beyond proof.
"But it did," he said. His tone was calm, assured, as though he had touched fate itself.
Her lips parted, her violet eyes widening as hope crept in.
"Truly?"
He nodded once. Steady, sure. "Yes. Truly."
She stared at him for a moment, her breath uneven, her body trembling with emotions too tangled to name. Then she stepped closer, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric as though anchoring herself to him.
"I cannot be certain," she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw, "but there is one way to find out."
Her mouth claimed his in a kiss, passionate, searing, more than mere lust. It was hunger, need. When she drew back for the briefest instant, her voice was hushed, heavy with intent.
"You know what I am asking of you now."
Her violet eyes searched his, burning with both challenge and longing, daring him to refuse, knowing he would not.
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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC
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