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Aeron sweapt his gaze over the assembled Kingsguard after announcing Raya as the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Their white cloaks glimmered faintly.
His dark cloak whispered against the floor as he walked around.
"There will be a new rule," Aeron said, his tone was calm.
Every knight turned their eyes to him. Even Daenerys, standing few feet away from him; watched him intently.
"The old vows of the Kingsguard," Aeron began, pacing slowly before them, "say that a knight must forsake all... wife, son, daughter, name. That he must die in service, leaving nothing of himself behind but his sword and his bones."
He stopped. His violet eyes lifted, sharp and steady.
"I call that rule what it is.. Horsecrap."
A stir ran through the guards small gasps, uneasy glances. Some shifted their footing; one of the older knights swallowed hard. Raya, standing off to the side, smirked faintly.
Aeron continued, voice filled with conviction. "That law was made to destroy the bloodline of great men. To make them tools, nothing more. It was meant to strip the realm of legacy, to make sure no true knight passed his fire to his children. The finest of the realm to die with nothing."
He looked at each of them in turn, the faint light from the high windows catching the sharp planes of his face. "I've heard every reason for it, every song and sermon that claims it's about honor or purity of service. And yet…" He raised a brow slightly. "Not one of them ever convinced me."
The hall fell into silence again. The only sound was the faint creak of armor.
Daenerys said nothing. She watched him, though a quiet pride flickered in her eyes. When Aeron's gaze passed over her, she gave the smallest nod as if to say go on.
Before anyone could speak, the heavy doors swung open.
Tyrion Lannister entered, his steps clicking lightly against the floor. Varys and Oberyn followed, the rest of the small council trailing behind them. The Imp's gaze darted toward the uneasy Kingsguard before he broke into a crooked smile.
"Well," Tyrion said, raising his brows as he approached, "that's… not the first decree I expected to hear. I daresay my brother would have loved this one."
Aeron's lips curved faintly, the shadow of a smile. "I don't doubt that, Tyrion," he replied. "If anything, I'd be more than willing to welcome him into the Kingsguard once more. He was, after all, the one with the most sense among your bloodline during the war for some reason."
Tyrion chuckled softly, though his eyes held something more serious beneath the humor.
Aeron stepped closer, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic. "Jaime understood what it meant to stand before me and choose reason when your sister and your late father both swore they'd rather choke on their pride than yield."
The words hung between them. Varys folded his hands quietly. Oberyn's lips twisted into a faint smirk.
Tyrion's smile faded into a more measured expression. "I'll send him a letter, your grace," he said after a moment. "But tell me... is my sister included in this… pardon?"
Aeron leaned back slightly, the hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. "Do that," he said. "And yes and no."
He began pacing toward the throne again, his voice echoing softly through the hall. "Cersei is included only if she agrees to remain in Casterly Rock with your uncle. Even if it lies in ruin, there's still Lannisport. She is not to leave the Westerlands while Jaime serves here."
Tyrion's brows rose slightly part surprise, part relief. "That seems… fair, way more than my evil sister deserves" he said finally. "I'll see to it."
He gave a small, respectful bow and turned to leave.
Silence returned for a moment before Oberyn's voice broke it warm, edged with that familiar Dornish charm.
"Very merciful, my king," he said, tilting his head with a faint grin. "But you and I both know the Lannisters ... especially that particular woman, don't let go of grudges so easily."
Varys, beside him, murmured softly, "History would agree."
Aeron looked at the both of them, a trace of a smile pulling at his lips though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not this time," he said. "Cersei knows she's beaten. I've let her live in peace, if she chooses it. Should she try anything foolish…"
His gaze turned toward the far window, where light met shadow. His voice dropped to a quiet, dangerous calm.
"I'll know."
Daenerys glanced at him then the faintest shiver running through her before she steadied herself. She could see it in him again that dark certainty that made men obey without question.
Oberyn smirked and clasped his hands behind his back. "Then I almost pity her," he said, turning to leave with Varys.
When they were gone, the hall was quiet once more.
Daenerys finally spoke, her voice softer now. "Can we talk somewhere in private, Aeron ?"
****
Aeron stood beside Daenerys on the high balcony of the Red Keep. His black cloak stirred faintly in the breeze, Daenerys stood close, arms folded lightly before her, her hair catching the wind in strands of white fire.
But her eyes her violet eyes were distant.
"I respect your choice and I understand what you meant about the kingsguard oath, what I don't really understand," she said quietly, "why you would want him of all people.. the Kingslayer, the Oath Breaker.. as part of your Kingsguard."
Her tone was soft, but there was steel beneath it.
Aeron didn't turn at first. He watched the gulls wheel far out over Blackwater Bay, his jaw set in calm thought. Then he finally looked at her.
"Dany," he said, voice even and low, "you know that.."
"I know he deserved it," she cut in sharply. Her words came fast, but the strength in them faltered toward the end. "My father deserved it. I know that."
Her gaze dropped to the floor, the edge of her voice cracking. "But still…" she murmured, shaking her head. "I can't truly forgive the people who destroyed my family. They butchered them.. men, women, children. My blood."
The wind blew stronger then, brushing strands of her hair across her face. Aeron stepped closer, silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his tone softened, yet there was power in those words.
"And here you are," he said, "carrying your family's legacy still. You built upon the ashes they left. You moved on and turned grief into strength."
His hands rose and settled on her shoulders. His touch was firm but grounding, drawing her eyes back to his.
"You can forgive," he went on, his voice low and steady. "Not for them, but for you. Because some men, Dany, never had the choice. They fought because they were bound by family, by oaths, by fear. To disobey was death. To obey was survival."
She searched his face her lips parting slightly, the fight in her gaze softening. He continued, leaning a little closer.
"You forgave Tyrion," Aeron reminded her. "You allowed him to stand by your side as an advisor, as a friend. He was a Lannister too. Yet you saw the man behind the name."
Daenerys turned her head slightly, unable to meet his eyes for a heartbeat. Her fingers tightened, knuckles white.
"I suppose you are right," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it is hard. Hard to forget."
Aeron's lips curved faintly, though not quite into a smile. He let go of her shoulders but kept his gaze steady on her. "Forgetting is for fools," he said. "But forgiving the people that change for the better, that is for the wise."
Her eyes lifted again, meeting his questioning, thoughtful.
"A wise queen," he continued, "knows what paths must be taken, and what grudges must be buried. She knows when to strike… and when to heal. The realm will need both from you."
Daenerys inhaled slowly, the words sinking in like slow-turning gears of reason. Then she nodded once a gesture of reluctant acceptance, but acceptance nonetheless.
"I will try," she said quietly.
Aeron reached out, brushing a loose strand of her silver hair from her cheek. "That is all I ask of my queen."
For a while, neither spoke. The wind moved around them again, soft and constant, carrying the faint ringing of the city's bells below.
Then Aeron turned toward the door. "Now," he said, his voice taking on its usual composed calm, "let us prepare for the coming events. The celebrations, the feasts, the oaths to be sworn. There will be much to oversee."
Daenerys exhaled slowly, composure returning to her features. When she looked at him again, her expression carried that quiet determination he had always admired, the same fire that always burned in her.
"As you command, my king," she said softly, and followed him back inside.
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