Shiera XI
32AC
The giggles of a child were perhaps the most alluring sound in the whole entire world to Shiera. She was hearing a veritable chorus of them as her dainty fingers danced on her second son's chest as he bubbled with laughter.
"Good morrow, Baelon," Shiera said with a smile as her second-born continued to giggle and laugh. His dark violet eyes glued to her own red while his short tufts of silver-gold hair shifted back and forth.
Relenting her tickle attack on her son. She lifted him from his small cradle and into her own arms. Swaying the happy child back and forth as the giggles subsided.
'Perfect,' Shiera could not help but think with a smile. His big, dark violet eyes began darting around the room and Shiera followed his gaze.
Just above her son's cradle in the nursery lay a brand new tapestry weaved by the finest weavers of Pentos. It depicted the battle which had taken place over two years ago. Where the largest army assembled since Sarnor perished at the Field of Crows was laid low by Maegor.
'We will need a bigger one for the main hall,' Shiera absentmindedly thought while continuing to bounce Baelon around.
Ever since the Dothraki were vanquished as a real menace over two years ago and Maegor's payments of gold began, Shiera had been gifted with a lot more wiggle room when it came to decorations and making their home worthy of a Dragonlord's family.
She still remembered the appalled look Queen Visenya gave her when she first arrived in the manse. The bare walls and boring decorations had disappointed Queen Visenya just as much as they did her. Maegor was fairly oblivious to it but the bland look had grated on Shiera ceaselessly. It had taken an incredible effort but she had finally convinced her husband to spend some of his new enormous wealth on decorations to line their manse in the city.
'I did not imagine him to be a spendthrift,' Shiera thought with a slight smile to herself. Maegor already informed her about his purchases of land. Large swathes of land were bought up in the Velvet Hills and Old Andalos, mostly from magisters who had little interest in the comparatively less attractive land, at least when compared to the new swathes of land opened up along the Rhoyne and Flatlands.
Nothing was being grown on the land yet, as winter had yet to leave them fully. Nevertheless, Maegor was already planning out a massive expansion of agriculture in Old Andalos and the Velvet Hills.
Yet that was not the only thing Maegor spent his gold on in the last few moons. He did not waste it on gambling thankfully, but he always had somewhere he wished to spend his gold. Some artisan working on a hair-brained scheme that caught Maegor's fancy. She hardly understood any of them but this new "clock" invention caught the interest of much of Pentos.
It seemed to completely capture Maegor's attention for what must have been for two full moons at least. Which was not particularly fun for her pregnant self but it was water under the bridge now.
The artisan who invented the item had quickly fallen into Maegor's grasp and now operated under his patronage. The division of the day into four and twenty even sections was a peculiar idea but Shiera did not despise it. Especially because it did not affect her life very much at all.
It did help Maegor greatly, however, so it was good in her books. The division of the day made organizing with his army much easier and establishing proper meeting times with Pentoshi nobles or another artisan who caught Maegor's attention.
It was likewise a hit amongst the nobles of Pentos and it seemed like half a dozen of them leaped to the idea of funding a large tower in the center of Pentos with one of these new "clocks" placed on its top. It was not quite done yet but the progress on it had been staggering.
'At least it is not our money this time,' Shiera thought with a sigh. She understood Maegor's arguments for how he spent his money and she trusted his word that he would "make it back with plenty to spare" but it was depressing that their mansion was furnished largely with gifts and items taken from their manse in the Velvet Hills until now.
"No longer, right Baelon?" Shiera asked her son not really expecting a reply. Daeron had started speaking already but Baelon was still several moons away from speaking at the very earliest.
She had big plans for their manse now that Maegor had acquiesced to them. He was willing to live in a bare manse but she was not, especially because there were two young princes they now lived with. She would not allow her children to grow up in the same dull, empty environment she had been subjected to in her youth.
She had ordered tapestries, paintings, and sculptures, and had even sent out some trusted servants to scour the markets of Pentos for anything particularly eye-catching. She would have previously gone to do such a thing herself but she found walking the streets of Pentos not interesting at the moment.
"I would much rather spend the day with you," Shiera said to a still-smiling Baelon and Shiera beamed a smile back.
"How about we go to the garden? Perhaps we can see your father there," Shiera asked even though she had already made up her mind. Standing up from her chair placed by the cradle of her son. She moved with haste toward the garden in their manse.
…
The garden of their manse within Pentos continued to be one of Shiera's favorite places. Winter was finally coming to an end and so the garden was growing even more vibrant and pleasant by the day. With more and more flowers opening themselves up and even the vines seemed to pop with color as the cold winds receded.
It contrasted sharply with their second manse. Their abode in the Velvet Hills did not lack stunning views of nature. Far from it, their second manse was surrounded by some light woods. Unfortunately, their hilltop villa was much colder than the one in Pentos proper and thus was colored with whites and blues rather than vibrant greens and reds.
Yet they were not there right now. They were in the much warmer, albeit more bare manse within the city. One that used to house visiting Dragonlords and now housed a branch of House Targaryen. Perhaps she would like their second manse more when summer finally reared its head but for now, she much preferred the palace in the city.
The screech of a dragon soon filled the air and interrupted her thoughts. It was not a surprise however, as Shiera hoisted Baelon up so he could see Terrax fly by their manse for what must have been the tenth time by now.
The familiar black dragon turned on its side as it passed close by the manse and Shiera caught sight of two of the three most important men in her life. Her husband Maegor, no doubt with a smile plastered over his face, and her son Daeron Targaryen, no doubt sporting a smile just as large. Shiera had to admit that the idea of letting her barely two name day old son ride on Terrax with his father was frightening at first but it was not her place to comment.
Firstly, Shiera trusted that Maegor would never let harm come to Daeron in the sky. As a matter of fact, Maegor had specifically commissioned a harness to tie Daeron to himself during the flight, ostensibly to assuage her worries but she imagined Maegor was just as fearful. It was the reason why he did not immediately bring Daeron into the skies atop Terrax when he was born.
Secondly, her little Daeron was a Targaryen, dragon riding was his birthright. Her sons were the latest scions of Old Valyria. House Targaryen was above all other mortals in this world, and she was proud that her blood would be carried through them.
Baelon excitedly grasped at Terrax as he made another pass around the manse and Shiera fought off the growing concern that was boiling within her. It had been eating at her for a few moons now, at first she thought it may just be her mind worrying over nothing once more but Shiera now doubted that notion.
Her sons were indeed Targaryens, true-blooded and as legitimate as they come, but they were missing something very important, dragons. Neither of her sons had hatchlings in their cradles like Prince Aenys had been afforded or had hatchlings that may one day be claimed like with her own husband or Princess Rhaena across the sea.
'I will need to speak with him about that soon,' Shiera thought with a frown of displeasure. She had been desperately trying not to argue with him recently but she could see he was not looking at the bigger picture. Or maybe he was and just was not telling her, which could not stand.
Shiera understood that as Maegor's wife. It was her duty to support him in all things but she needed to know what he thought to actually help him. She would not openly defy him again, as she had so foolishly done almost two years ago. But she felt the need to speak to him.
Casting her gaze away from the soft lapping of the waves near their coastal manse and back toward the city, Shiera was reminded of an unpleasant memory, the first and only time she and Maegor had argued to any real degree since the Tyanna debacle.
"You promised what!" Shiera involuntarily yelled, her emotions getting the better of her for a moment.
"I promised nothing, it was table talk, nothing more," Maegor quickly assuaged but Shiera had to push back.
"Betrothals are hardly table talk!" She continued and Maegor let out a sigh.
"Illyrio has a newborn daughter and I have a young son, I promised nothing to him but signaling that he is considered for a potential betrothal should the need arise goes a long way in paying back his support," Maegor said after taking another sip of his wine and Shiera narrowed her eyes.
"It is not right, do you not trust me?" she asked, hurt replacing the anger she held previously.
"Trust you? Of course I do Shiera," Maegor said, taking her hands into his own but Shiera still felt betrayed.
"Then please do not even consider betrothals right now, I will give Daeron a sister, I promise you that," Shiera practically pleaded. It was her greatest duty as a Targaryen's wife. She had received the lecture from Queen Visenya more times than she could remember.
Incest was the lifeblood of House Targaryen, it maintained their blood purity and kept dragons in the family. It was her duty to provide her husband with at least one son to inherit his lands and titles and a daughter for that son to marry. If she failed in that, then she was a failure of a wife.
She could not fail, not again. She had failed so much and still gotten to where she was off dumb luck and the goodwill of others. Shiera refused to do so again, she had to succeed, at the very least in this.
"I know Shiera, a daughter from you or a cousin from Aenys is the first choice but even hinting at potential marriages in the future is a good way to pay back support and show that I am not merely taking. I do trust you Shiera, and I promise I will set nothing in stone without your knowledge."
Maegor's answer did not particularly satisfy Shiera at the time and it still did not even as she sat in the garden. She moved a hand to her stomach and lamented at her predicament. She now had two sons she needed daughters for and it would be another year at least before her body would be ready to have another.
'Another year or two of suffering these talks,' Shiera thought with a sneer once more. Her emotional talk with Maegor was a result of her being with child but even without her mind rebelling against her, the very notion of her sons not marrying their sisters was disgusting to her. She could perhaps stomach them marrying Targaryen cousins, despite the fact that they would be born from the treacherous blood of a rotten seahorse. Yet the notion of her children having to marry outside of the family like Maegor and Prince Aenys had to do was sickening.
The enraged face of Queen Visenya appeared in her mind again and Shiera welcomed it. She had burned the image into her mind ever since she visited after the attempt on her life and she used it as a motivator. She would not fail again, she had sworn it on her life.
She had taken all the criticism and harsh words laid onto her by Queen Visenya to heart and set out to meet her expectations like she had been trained to do. She had let the new look and friends she made in Pentos cloud her judgment. She was Maegor's wife and the mother to his children, that was where her energy must be focused. ]
Shiera had redoubled her efforts in learning magic, poisons, and potions. Searching the tomes hidden within the depths of the handful of libraries scattered across Pentos, looking for anything that may give her an edge. Along the way, she also touched upon her abilities as a healer. They had since acquired a better one after the gold began to flow but Shiera trusted her own judgment over a crusty Essosi.
Shiera also began to explore just how much she could do with glass candles. Practicing with new books given to her by Queen Visenya. Projecting out to scope out potential land in Old Andalos. Testing the full scope of her abilities on a few unfortunate souls. Shiera would be ready if Maegor had need of her abilities once more.
She wished that Queen Visenya was in the city to properly instruct her further but she had to make due largely on her own. For some reason, Maegor was still unready to invite Queen Visenya to stay long-term in Pentos. Shiera did not know the reason why but he had assured both herself and Queen Visenya that he was almost ready.
As if redoubling her studies was not already enough to keep her busy every day, Shiera had also been hard at work helping Maegor out where she could in the political scene. Queen Visenya had taught her how to manage a domain long ago, so that was where most of her efforts were centered.
If she could help manage Maegor's increasingly large personal holdings, it would free up his time for more politicking in the Conclave. So she threw herself into organizing the different contracts Maegor began to sign. She helped him divide up his land into more manageable sections, she helped him organize the contracts signed with individual small land owners, she helped him look for skilled and worthy slaves to free, along with many other things. Her workload had expanded a hundredfold over the last dozen moons.
Her efforts had been effective so far. She doubted she was quite as capable as Maegor but the current workload she assigned herself was just enough to be challenging, especially with being a mother thrown into the lot, but she could handle it. However, one aspect of her new life was concerning to Shiera.
Maegor was still firm on returning to Westeros. He had taken notice of Prince Aenys never visiting Pentos, despite being invited for the birth of both of their sons, and yet he still had faith that his brother would lift the banishment and all would return to normal.
'Has he forgotten about the damnable snake coiled around Prince Aenys' neck?' Shiera thought with another frown. Alyssa Velaryon was a snake that Maegor could not see the real danger of in the same way she could not see the dangers of Tyanna.
Shiera held little doubt that Alyssa was doing her absolute damndest to try and turn Prince Aenys away from the idea of lifting their banishment. It was a possibility that Maegor was not preparing for, he was preparing to live long-term in Pentos but she doubted he was ready to live his entire life here like she was prepared to do.
'Will she poison the minds of her children too?' Shiera could not help but think. In her heart, she already knew the answer but it still saddened her. Prince Aegon and Viserys, along with Princess Rhaena may have been born from a Seahorse's womb but they were just as Targaryen as her own sons.
'They should grow up together as cousins,' Shiera thought with a frown. Her children would not get to grow up with their cousins at this rate and all of it lay squarely on the shoulders of Alyssa Velaryon and King Aegon Targaryen.
Maegor rightly figured that King Aegon would never lift their banishment but he was still too hopeful about Prince Aenys. She had shared some of her thoughts with Queen Visenya two moons ago when Baelon was born and she was relieved to see that Queen Visenya thought the same.
Shiera would not set out to quash his optimism but she needed to ensure that Maegor was ready and willing to respond in due kind to whatever may happen. She did not want to be caught flat-footed, with her family potentially at risk.
'Another time,' Shiera thought as she got up to return the now crying Baelon to the nursery. She would confront Maegor with a coherent argument and solid talking points. Until she had them prepared, she would relish in the wonderful life she had been gifted.
Aeron VII
32AC
"Lord Aeron! They are fleeing! Should we pursue?" Aeron heard one of his aides call out and Aeron shook his head.
"There is no need. Pull the men back!" Aeron said with surety. Looking through his Myrish far-eye, Aeron could see they were in full retreat back into the Norvosi Hills, likely toward Braavos.
"Is it wise to let them flee?" Aeron heard a different, more familiar voice speak from behind him and Aeron's back stiffened.
"Perhaps not, Ser Gawen. But the men are tired and being lured into a trap would be disastrous," Aeron justified his reasoning to the more seasoned commander.
Ser Gawen was one of the many to arrive after the battle with the Dothraki. Men heard of the glory and riches won out east and many ambitious young men set out to join them. It had gotten to the point that the mercenary company had grown almost four times in size since the battle of Ghoyan Drohe.
"So why not send a group to harass them as they retreat, this is merely a border conflict but letting them retreat unmolested is just asking for them to return," Ser Gawen continued his efforts of being annoyingly correct and Aeron had to acquiesce.
"A logical argument Ser. Letting them go unchallenged is a bad idea no doubt. You! Go tell our Dothraki friends to harass them as far as they dare," Aeron agreed before pointing at one of his aides and sending him away. Ser Gawen did make a fine point, even though Aeron disliked the idea of putting more men at risk.
Putting the Dothraki at risk on the other hand? He cared little for that. The Dothraki agreed to serve Maegor as auxiliaries to the Black Company and Aeron was more than willing to throw them in harm's way.
It was what they lived for after all. Three hundred Dothraki horsemen, a mix of screamers and horse archers. Were a great boon for Aeron and the black company. Suddenly all sorts of maneuvers and plans were made available to them thanks to their mounted auxiliaries.
Even if he cared less for the Dothraki under his command, he had learned from the battle of Ghoyan Drohe. Where they had lost nearly a third of their men. Great losses were intolerable, especially now that many of the army were Aeron's friends.
Aeron and Maegor were both very happy to see Jasper Arryn arrive with almost three thousand men from the Vale. Coupled with one Lord Galladon Tarth leading another two thousand men from the Stormlands.
Their arrival meant that the Black Company did not fade into irrelevance after the battle of Ghoyan Drohe and it also meant that Aeron had some trusted people around him. He had been looking for more reliable and trustworthy persons to fill the ranks of the Black Company and grizzled and motivated Westerosi were just the people he needed.
"So are we done here then? I heard that Prince Maegor was going to throw us a feast when we return," Ser Gawen said in his usual blunt tone, but with a bit of excitement thrown in and Aeron nodded along.
"Aye, we are done here, send word to the army to pack their things. I will go speak with the Prince of Norvos, we will depart by nightfall," Aeron sent out the orders and he was relieved to find Ser Gawen agreed readily.
Turning his horse around, Aeron angled his trusty steed back toward the former city of Norvos. Much had changed since the battle of Ghoyan Drohe two years ago, both for himself and for the political scene.
Would the Aeron Velaryon of three years ago believe where he ended up now? At the head of an army nearly ten thousand strong and widely regarded as a skilled commander on the battlefield.
Aeron doubted it but he imagined his younger self would rejoice at one new fact about himself. He was a knight now, Ser Aeron Velaryon. Maegor had seen fit to knight him after the battle of Ghoyan Drohe and Aeron was not about to turn the gesture down.
He remembered feeling giddy at the time, excitement filling his person but now it felt odd. He remembered Maegor complaining about his knighthood on Dragonstone. About how he felt barely any different and felt like he was failing to live up to the ideal.
Aeron understood that now, he was a knight, a commander, and was beginning to earn fame the world over, yet something was missing. Something he could not quite place his finger on.
Deliberately shifting his thoughts, Aeron decided to think about Pentos to clear his mind. Pentos now stood as a true power player in Essos and the entire continent was shaken by the Dothraki being pushed back west of the Rhoyne.
'Let us hope another Khal of Khals does not present himself,' Aeron thought as his horse readily trotted down the path toward the once great city.
It had been impossible to confirm the identity of the vast majority of the tens of thousands of men who died outside of Ghoyan Drohe but given the disarray of the formerly indomitable Dothraki Empire. It was assumed that if not Khal Temmo himself, at the very least his sons were killed in Terrax's vibrant green flames.
The whereabouts of Khal Temmo were unknown but news from the east told them that the Dothraki had fractured. With smaller Khalasars claiming a city and all the lands around it. Sarnor had fractured into at least six new Khalasars and Qohor and Essaria had also gained new horse lords.
Ever since the Dothraki burned, the Black Company had continued to be employed by Pentos to fight in its wars. The militia had been disbanded and much of the more professional force died in the fires of Terrax so the Black Company became effectively vital for the survival of Pentos, at least while they rebuilt their main forces.
'Did Maegor plan that?' Aeron could not help but wonder as the curtain walls of Norvos got closer to him. The idea that Maegor planned to kill thousands of their own allied men seemed off to him but it worked out so perfectly that he had to at least think of the possibility.
Maegor had worked out a lucrative deal with the city of Pentos after that battle, with the Pentoshi paying an outrageous sum for the support of the Black Company. Tens of thousands of pounds of gold were transferred yearly along with a nice raid on what was left of the Dothraki camp, and the seizing of many of their horses which scattered to the wind after the battle. The Black Company had been transformed into a very formidable force.
Truthfully, at this point, Aeron had little clue of what went on inside of Maegor's head anymore. He had practically dived head-first into managing and organizing the Black Company while Maegor had stuck his head into Pentoshi politics and a divide had formed.
'Hopefully, this feast he is hosting will be a nice time to talk,' Aeron thought to himself as his horse finally reached the gates of Norvos.
…
"I must thank you again, Lord Aeron. My family is forever in your debt," Prince Mennio Brenyl of Norvos said with a jovial smile and Aeron nodded aimlessly. He had shown up here to let the newly crowned Prince know that the Black Company he had brought along would be returning but he had been roped into a conversation.
"Of course, my prince. I am merely doing what I am paid to do," Aeron said with a smile of his own and he noted how it was getting easier to speak with nobles.
Aeron had always been a bit of a loner. He shared Maegor's distaste for most nobles but he had gotten better at interacting with them over the last year, especially now that he was getting invited to many a ball and banquet as Maegor's official second in command.
"Indeed, yet you and the Black Company have done more for this city than Pentos has recently. So I must thank you on behalf of the people of Norvos," Prince Mennio said with a light bow and Aeron would not deny that it felt good.
Finally being respected, finally having some weight behind his name and person. It was an intoxicating feeling, one he had to keep control of, lest he lose sight of himself and his goal. He would not just settle for fame in Essos. He wanted more.
"Of course, should the Braavosi, Dothraki, or even the Volantenes trouble you again, put out the call to Pentos and we shall return here promptly," Aeron promised something he had no right to. But officially, Norvos was a Pentoshi protectorate and thus it was in fact her duty to defend the once mighty city.
"Must you leave so soon? I am certain Norvos would be happy to welcome its liberators for a night," the prince offered once more and Aeron was reminded of a few conversations he had with nobles back in Pentos.
Ever since the battle, when word of his speech had gotten out, quite a few nobles in Pentos had invited him for talks and potential deals. He was lavished with gifts and friendly overtures but Aeron did not really know how to deal with it. He was even gifted a mansion by a particularly zealous family. Sure he was more widely known now but he was still not all that influential. He had no dragon and was certainly not as wealthy as Maegor.
'Is there something else to this?' Aeron thought both of those nobles trying to get on his good side and the prince currently trying to have him stay in the city of Norvos. There had to be a different angle to this whole thing he just was not seeing, he was certain of it.
"I am afraid I must, I would love to enjoy your hospitality further but I must return the Black Company to Ghoyan Drohe to rest for the next battle," Aeron said genuinely apologetically. He certainly did not detest this Mennio Brenyl but he really did have to go back. His men were tired of camping out in the Norvosi Hills.
"Very well, safe travels, Lord Aeron," the prince said after a reluctant sigh and Aeron unceremoniously got up to leave.
Before he could exit the solar, however, the prince said one more thing. "Oh and Lord Aeron?"
"Yes?" Aeron said with an inquisitive look thrown over his shoulder.
"House Brenyl of Pentos invites you to dine with them after you return to the city, or at your earliest convenience," the prince said before returning to the scattered papers he was signing and leaving Aeron thoroughly stupefied.
Aeron considered asking for clarification but he felt like that would be a defeat, so he gave a curt nod to the prince before departing the solar.
'With any luck, the men are assembled and ready to leave,' Aeron thought as he walked the halls of the restored palace with a quickness in his step.
…
The rhythmic sound of boots clanking against the ground was a mesmerizing one for Aeron. The Black Company deployed into four groups for marching and thus there was what looked like a river of men marching along the Valyrian road.
The men marched in unison and Aeron marveled at the show they put on. It made the silly exercises that Maegor insisted upon a year and a half ago seem so much more valuable.
Maegor had many strange ideas for this army, yet Aeron could hardly refute any of them.
'Seriously, where does he find the time,' Aeron thought with a thoroughly confused look as he pondered just how his friend managed to come up with so many good ideas.
The Black Company was unrecognizable from the shoddily constructed sellsword company that had faced the Dothraki. The roughly ten thousand men in the army had been divided up into ten groups of around a thousand men each. Each of those groups was divided into two groups of five hundred men. Which were divided into smaller units for the soldier's management.
Aeron did not mind the basic organization but Maegor took it a step further. Aeron would have organized the men by whichever region they came from. A region for the Crownlands, one for the Stormlands, and for the Vale, and finally a miscellaneous one for Essosi recruits and stragglers from the other regions in Westeros.
Maegor rejected this idea, however. He sorted the men randomly and each company had a large mix of Valemen, Crownlanders, and Stormlanders. Maegor said it would promote "unity" and a "common brotherhood" but Aeron was not entirely certain if that was possible. Inter-kingdom rivalries ran deep in Westeros. Aeron thought Maegor was being naive by trying to unify them.
This idea wormed its way to the commanders themselves. Maegor implemented a top-down and a bottom-up system of command and thankfully it was quite simple. All the way up to the five hundred-man sections, the men chose the commanders. Yet up from there, they were chosen by Maegor.
It had led to the bizarre circumstance where the bottom rungs of the army were run by the bottom rungs of the army. For instance, a bastard was promoted to the top of the first infantry company and Aeron did not know how he felt about that.
The results spoke for themselves of course. Their army was professional and moved nearly flawlessly. But trusting such important positions to lowborn people, even bastards felt odd to Aeron.
Maegor was much more sensible when it came to the upper crust of the army. Maegor was on the very top as the Lord Commander of the Black Company. Aeron was just below him as Vice-Captain. Followed by Haroros, the Quartermaster. Then came Lieutenant Galldon Tarth, with his vice-captain and commanders below him. Finally, Lieutenant Gawen Corbray, overall commander of the cavalry, with vice-captain Jasper Arryn below him and then commanders below him.
The usage of the nobles assuaged Aeron's fears that Maegor had lost it completely but it was strange having bastards and lowborn peasants have any real sort of command at all.
Maegor's other ideas were far better in Aeron's opinion. Maegor had organized regular training sessions within the army. Where entire companies would be moved and drilled in combat exercises somewhat regularly. Aeron was uncertain of it at first but the results spoke for themselves.
The army moved near flawlessly and the camps could hardly be better organized. Aeron did not really know what prompted Maegor to have this idea but he was grateful for it, along with one other thing.
Aeron expected Maegor to turn the entire Black Company into a cavalry army after they acquired thousands of Dothraki horses but instead, Maegor proliferated them among the smallest denominations of soldiers to aid in supply carrying and management.
It meant that they had a more moderate force of mounted knights but their infantry forces were better supplied and faster in their marches. Coupled with a well-designed camp that could be thrown up in what his new "clock" said was just a few hours. The Black Company had become a true force to be reckoned with, with or without the Dragon that was supposed to support them in battle.
Yet for some reason, it grated on Aeron something fierce. Looking up at the banner of their sellsword company, a black dragon on a green background. Aeron could not feel pride.
Aeron had thought that this was exactly what he wanted. He was finally a knight, he was well respected, he was a successful commander, and he had growing fame. Yet for some reason it all felt false to him. Like it was all borrowed and not truly earned himself. The banner flapping in the wind was the perfect analogy for why.
Maegor had largely stopped fighting with the Black Company ever since the Dothraki were vanquished. He had essentially let Aeron lead the army around, smashing smaller Dothraki forces, Braavosi hired sellswords, and the occasional Volantene expedition. Yet all of those victories were still attributed to Maegor.
The same Maegor that had hardly even flown above the army in the last two years let alone actually fighting with them. His reasoning for it was sound and Aeron was not even particularly mad that he was not fighting but the credit for all his victories being handed to Maegor was unpleasant.
Maegor reasoned that using Terrax against other Free Cities in skirmishes would send a bad signal to the rest of Old Valyria's daughters. Aeron did not see any fault in this logic but Maegor was being hand-fed prestige and honors that he did not earn.
'It is all so damn unfair,' Aeron thought with a frown. Yet he could not even really be mad at his friend as Maegor had not deliberately set out to snub him. It was just how the world was working, and Aeron did not know how to change it.
It seemed the Black Company had fallen far behind on the list of things Maegor had to deal with. As his friend had acquired vast influence within Pentos and even vaster tracks of land outside the city.
Meanwhile, Aeron stepped up to lead and command the army, yet he received essentially no credit for it. It was demoralizing and he could not help but be jealous of Maegor, who got to play politics in Pentos and spend time with his family while Aeron worked with the Black Company and led them to victory.
'That isn't fair,' Aeron immediately caught himself being particularly bitter. Maegor was still making regular visits to the camp and actively maintaining relationships with the commanders. On top of that, could Aeron truly blame Maegor for prioritizing his family over his army?
'Family,' Aeron absentmindedly thought, his previous concerns forgotten in favor of a new thought to explore. Aeron had never really thought about having a family of his own. Maegor had suggested he take a lady of Pentos to wife but Aeron had not really felt the need.
Aeron really had never truly put much thought into having a family. He always dreamed of adventure and glory. To the point that he lost his connection with his little brother. Could he have a new family to call his own?
But a wife would surely just get in his way. He had seen it with Maegor. Maegor was present with the army for the battle with the Dothraki but ever since he had hardly left the city. Only leaving to occasionally quash bandits in the Velvet Hills or meet with some locals. Aeron did not have the luxury of a dragon, he had to work twice as hard. But did he really?
He was living his dream, or at least, a bastardized version of it. He had achieved glory and honor. But would he be remembered? He was but a footnote in the battle of Ghoyan Drohe. Leading the men of a small Sellsword Company on the ground while Maegor saved the day. Now he was fighting in worthless skirmishes across the hills of Norvos at the head of an army still led by Maegor.
"What do I do," Aeron muttered under his breath. He had a lot to think about.