The Green Dragon - XX (Patreon)

Chapter XX - The Duty of a Prince

That night, Jon barely got any sleep, as he turned and turned in his bed, his mind was inhabited by his older sister.
Jonothor Targaryen was fourteen, the same age Jon Snow had been when he had left Winterfell for the Wall. Years spent as a child had made him forget what being a man felt like, his sister’s beauty and touch had been a brutal reminder.

He had met her the day of his rebirth, at that time, she had already been fifteen years of age, a woman grown, yet her beauty had enhanced as the years passed. Jon had never seen her as a child, the same way he had always seen Helaena, would things have been different had that not been the case? Did his reluctance to marry his younger sister came from the fact that he did not see her as a woman? Would things change after she’d grow? And what about Rhaenyra? Why was it so easy to be attracted by her? Had be unable to feel any attraction towards her until now because he had been a boy? Gods… He could not get it out of his mind, her smell… but also her touch, the feeling of her chest pressed against his, her mischievous smile and her shining purple eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And he only realized it now. 

Since he was unable to think clearly, much less get some much needed sleep, he took the problem in his hand and got rid of it.

But the moment he was done cleaning himself, he felt the irrepressible feeling of guilt invade his heart and instantly regretted imagining things with his sister. She was his sister for Gods’ sake, he shouldn’t feel like this about her.

But as he went back to bed, he started thinking about the conversation he had with his mother regarding his future betrothal. And the idea came by itself, should he marry Rhaenyra?

She was fifteen years his senior, that much was true, but larger age gaps had been close by the bonds of marriage. As her consort, he could prevent the Dance, deal with his twin and uncle, count on the support of his grandfather, and unite the Realm in order to prepare it for the arrival of the Others in about 170 years. However, two problems persisted, the first was the fact that Rhaenyra was already married, and Jon did not remember what had happened to Laenor when he had learned about the Dance. The second problem was… Jacaerys.

No matter what he could or would do, his nephew was still a bastard and everyone knew it. If he were to marry Rhaenyra, the Lords of the Realm would expect for Jace to stand down and allow Luke to take his place as heir to the Throne. Yet, would Rhaenyra understand? Would Jace understand? And how could Jon do something so horrible to his nephew, he who had killed the boy’s father?

He vaguely remembered Ser Harwin Strong, he remembered seeing him naked in a bed with his sister, boasting about the bastard he had sired and the many others he had planned to make. Had Jon killed him out of jealousy? Had the anger of seeing him in bed with his sister come from feelings he had not been aware of when he was a child? He shook his head, that could not have been it, he was not in love with Rhaenyra, she was just making him feel… Gods. He could not say it.

Realizing that if he kept thinking about his sister, he would not sleep, Jon’s thoughts turned towards his mother and the conversation they’ve had regarding a potential betrothal between Helaena and him.

Was incest as repulsive as he had claimed in her chambers? If so, why was Rhaenyra capable of getting him aroused? Would he feel the same attraction regarding Helaena when she would become the beautiful woman that she was destined to be?

His thoughts went to Sansa and Arya, and Jon instantly felt repulsed at even thinking of them in such a way. It was as if Lord Stark’s severe eyes were glaring at him across time and death.

Jon sighed, everything was so complicated… Should he marry outside of his family? But if so, then from which house? And what kind of woman should he marry? If he desired to have children, he needed one that would be a good mother for them, but did he even want children? So many questions, yet so many uncertainties.

In the end, Jon had barely gotten any sleep at all, and he entered the training yard with very noticeable dark circles under his eyes.

Ser Criston Cole, had been in an excellent mood as he was getting the foemen and the blunt swords ready. He smiled when he saw him, but frowned when he saw his face.
"My Prince, what kept you awake last night?"

Jon almost blushed at the thought of his sister and the many questions he had asked himself regarding his future betrothal. In the end, he simply shook his head.

"Just the turmoil of my own mind, Ser."

Cole’s gaze turned a bit more severe.

"It is useless to take a day without training if you are unable to properly rest your body, my Prince."

Jon sighed.

"You’re right, Ser… I just…"

He did not know what to say, they were out in the open, with too many eyes on them. Even the Old King Viserys had gotten out of his tower to watch his sons and grandsons train. Jon saw him from afar with Lord Lyonel by his side.

"Is this about your sister?" Cole whispered.
Jon was not surprised, after all, the Kingsguard had been there when the Prince had abruptly came out of Rhaenyra’s chambers.

"Not just her, but my mother and Helaena as well." He confessed. "And there was an incident in the Dragon Pit yesterday, involving Aemond, Aegon, Jacaerys and Luke. Needless to say, there will be some attempts to right some wrongs during our training session."

Cole nodded dutifully, he rose his head to see if any of the other Princes were coming, but when he saw no one else had arrived yet, he went back to Jon.

"My Prince, I fear for your health."

Jonothor rose his eyebrows in surprise.

"My health?" He repeated, confused. "I assure you, Ser, I’m fine. I’ll take a nap during…"

"My Prince." Ser Criston urged him, cutting him off under his stunned gaze. "Jonothor… Please listen to me."

To say that Jon was baffled was an understatement. Never, ever, had Ser Criston forgotten himself. Mayhaps, the knight had hoped that by using his first name, his Prince would see it as a sign of affection and listen to what he had to say more carefully. He had not been wrong.

"What you are doing, trying to keep your family united by carrying all of their burdens. It is admirable, but I fear you do not realize the effect it has on you."

"What do you mean?"

Ser Criston put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern.
"Since the birth of Prince Jacaerys, you’ve always done what you thought was right to keep your family together. But what you don’t seem to realize, is the tribute that you’ve had to pay to preserve them from themselves. I know I am forgetting myself, my Prince, yet, I haven’t seen you happy and carefree since your exile on Dragonstone. And I fear the troubles of your family will end up driving you mad before you become a man grown."

Jon sighed deeply, perhaps too deeply as he almost fell asleep, right here, in the middle of the training yard. He smiled at his sworn sword, his mentor and friend, yet, he knew how sad he must have looked.
"It is my duty, Ser, not one that I particularly enjoy, but one that must be done. For no matter how flawed they are, they’re my family, I love them, and to preserve them is to preserve the Realm. If I were to stop caring, then I fear the Seven-Kingdoms would not resist two houses of the Dragon."

His words did nothing to comfort the Kingsguard and were not meant to anyway. However, the sadness and despair he saw in Ser Criston’s eyes actually widened his smile. It was nice to know someone cared.

Their conversation ended there as Lucerys and Jacaerys arrived to join them. Jon threw a reassuring smile at Jace who looked surprised for a second, before nodding thankfully.

Aemond was the next to show up, according to his face he was still angry and ashamed. Jacaerys looked ready to speak with him but chose against it, there would be a time and place better suited for this kind of conversation.

Finally, Aegon showed up, and he was in a far too good of a mood for Jon not to find it suspicious. He said nothing though, and went to line with the others as Ser Criston gave them instructions regarding today’s session.
And today’s session was… sad and silent.
The boys exchanged no word, showed no desire to be here, and they were all looking down. Except Aegon, who was as absorbed by his training as he was with the maids that passed by. Jon, on the other hand, could not focus, as he saw his nephews and younger brother train without sparring a glance towards each other and even bumping into one another without caring.

Ser Criston moved into Aegon, interrupting his brother's leering at the maids. 

"Prince Aegon."

Aegon turned to the marcher. 

"I've won my first bout Ser Criston, my opponent sues for mercy."

Criston looked amused at that.

"Ah, well you will have a new opponent then my Lord of the straw. Let's see if you can touch me, you and your brothers."

"Apologies, Ser." Jon said. "But I’ll take care of my nephews while you take care of my brothers, they can’t be left without an instructor."

Ser Criston rose his eyebrow, he looked disappointed, not by Jon, but by the fact that his Prince would not be training with him. Aemond, on the other hand, looked blatantly hurt.

"Very well, my Prince. I leave your nephews under your care."

And his care, his nephews obviously needed it, for they both looked lost and sad. Jon smiled, picked a wooden sword, and hit them both lightly on the top of their heads to knock some sense into them.

"Aow!" They both protested, but their uncle chuckled at their sour faces.

"Let this be a lesson, your enemy will never care if you’re in a good mood or not for a fight, he will attack and the consequences will be yours to deal with."

Jon made sure to keep the care in his tone, his nephews needed to cheer up a little bit, and if he could not cheer them up himself, then at the very least, he would pull them out of their depressive mood.

As Aemond and Aegon started sparring with Ser Criston, Jon pointed his wooden sword towards Luke.

"Since you’re the youngest here, you’re the one that has the most to learn, you two will spar and I’ll watch and give you pointers."

They both nodded and got into positions, but before they could even begin, Jon stopped them to correct Lucerys’ posture.

"You’re not holding your sword properly, your grasp must be firmer or you’ll lose your weapon too easily against a stronger opponent than you. You must also watch your legs, otherwise you’ll fall backwards under the power of his blows. Now fight!"

As it was expected, Jace easily overpowered Luke, however, Jon quickly stopped the spar when he realized something. He turned towards his oldest nephew.

"Why are you holding back?"

Jacaerys shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"He is small…"

"And by holding back, you’re preventing him from learning and making progress. Do it again and don’t hold back."

Unfortunately, Jace failed to follow his uncle’s instructions, as he was far too scared to maim his five-year-old brother. Jon shook his head and stopped the spar.

"Go get a shield." He told Jace with a severe tone. "Since you don’t understand my words, I have to knock some sense into you."

Jacaerys looked horrified, but he had no wish to go against his uncle’s command. He did as he was told as Jon gave his wooden sword to Luke to arm himself with a tourney blade.

"That shield is too small!" He told Jace as the latter was coming back with a practice shield made of wood. "Go get a real one!"

"But… They’re too heavy!" He protested, and Jon’s purple eyes turned even more severe, the dark circles under his eyes made him look like he was possessed. 

"Go get one." He commanded. "I won’t repeat myself again."

Jace visibly gulped in fear, but did as he was told. He looked around and saw a shield that resembled the ones the guards at the door were carrying. He picked it up, but struggled to get back to his uncle.

"Good." Jon nodded. "Now pick your sword and you and I will spar. Luke, you watch, pay attention to our legs."

Lucerys nodded, though he looked a bit worried about his brother who went to pick up a wooden sword.

"No, not that one. The tourney blade."

Jace opened his mouth but wisely shut it before any protests came out his throat. He picked the weapon his uncle had instructed him to pick, and got into position, his arms shaking under the weight of his weapons.

Jon did not give him enough time to warm himself up, he instantly thrusted at him missing his head by a few inches as Jace barely had enough time to raise his shield to parry. He took a step back, allowing his uncle to gain more ground and deliver another blow against his shield. Jace tried to lower it to see what was happening, but then Jon’s blade found a way through his defenses and stopped before it hit his throat.

"Keep your shield up." Jon told him.

"It’s… It’s too heavy."

"If it weren’t heavy it wouldn’t stop a sword, keep it up."

"But… How can I see if it’s always up?"

"Use your feet, pivot, keep moving, do not let me force you back, dance around me if you have to but keep that bloody shield up."

As they got back into position, Jace tried to lift his sword high enough to deliver a blow. But the weapon was far too heavy and he only managed to strike air as Jon easily stepped aside. The latter shook his head.

"Alright, exchange the tourney blade for a wooden sword but keep the shield."

He did so happily, but once the spar resumed, he gritted his teeth as his shield received many blows.

"Keep it up!" Jon said as he kept attacking. "Don’t lower your head behind your shield, use both arms, Jace!"

Jacaerys did his best, Jonothor’s blows were so hard he felt them radiate through his arm. He tried to counterattack but lost his balance as Jon’s last blow sent him to the ground.

Jon shook his head once again but helped him up.

"If you’re too afraid of being hit, you’ll never win like this. Keep that damn shield up or I’ll knock your head like a bell. Is that clear?"

Jace looked horrified, but nodded nonetheless.

"Good, now use your feet and try to find a way to counterattack. Do not, under any circumstances, let me corner you. You have space, move!"

Jace nodded once again and got ready. This time, he managed to take a few steps back before Jon’s blow hit his shield and thrusted, but Jon dodged it.

"Advance, Jace. Regain the ground you’ve lost."

Rhaenyra’s first born did as he was told, and carefully moved forward with his shield up and his sword pointed at his opponent. Jon smiled in approval and attacked.

Jacaerys deflected the blow with his shield, then he spun around and tried to swing at his uncle’s head. But Jon kicked him in the back before he could complete his move and made him bite the dust.

"That was actually well thought, Jace." He said as he helped him back up. "But you were far too slow and your body was unbalanced because of the weight difference between your weapons. You need to start training with a tourney blade from now on. Or your body won’t grow strong enough for you to carry an armor."

Then without warning, he swung his sword at his nephew who barely rose his shield in time to block it.

"There are two ways to hold back, Jace, the right way…"

He then proceeded to hit his shield so lightly it felt like someone was knocking at a door.

"… And the wrong way. What are you learning when I do it the wrong way? Nothing, just like Luke wasn’t learning anything when you were sparring against him. I’m not asking you to beat him bloody, but as the eldest and the better trained, you can’t be afraid of hurting him. Do you understand?"

Jace gulped once again, his left arm was hurting like hell but he did not dare lower his shield in case his uncle would strike again. He had learned his lesson.

He nodded.

"Good, drop the shield and get back to Luke."

Jonothor turned towards his younger nephew, who looked as scared as he was excited.

Jon could not help but think about Aemond when he was the boy’s age.

"Did you see how your brother and I moved? You need to be quick and balanced, otherwise it doesn’t matter how strong you become, you’ll never be able to use that strength against your opponents. Understood? Good, then you’ll spare against your brother once again, and this time he won’t hold back."

Jace put the shield down, and moved with his wooden sword to face Luke. The latter tried to redo the position Jon had shown him earlier, but his uncle still had to correct him before he could resume his spar with his brother.
Jacaerys actually did pretty well, he varied his blows to force his little brother to move in order to defend himself and always paused whenever Jon needed to teach something to Luke. Since Jace had stopped holding back too much, Lucerys actually had to use his very own strength to hold his ground. And he did well despite his size.

"How are you students faring, my Prince?" Cole asked once his spar with Aemond and Aegon had ended.

"Jace could benefit from your instruction, Ser." Was Jon’s simple reply. 

However, something passed across Ser Criston’s face, something Jonothor failed to identify.

"Very well, Jacaerys, come here."

He grabbed Jace by his chest plate and dragged him into position.

"You spar with Aegon."

The latter chuckled at that, while Aemond hid a small grin, only Jon frowned.

"Let’s see what your uncle taught you."  Ser Criston finished his declaration as Aegon’s eyes turned feral. 

Jon and Jace’s eyes crossed, but the eldest chose to not interfere, Cole was their instructor after all.

"I know it isn’t a fair match, boys, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn't anything anyone should expect."

Jon nodded, accepting his reasoning, however he threw a warning glance towards his twin who responded with an innocent grin.

"Jace." Jon said. "Go get your shield."

Rhaenyra’s eldest looked surprised, but he did as he was commanded. Ser Criston merely nodded, accepting Jon’s suggestion.

Once Jacaerys got his shield back, he went back into position. Cole surveyed his students as they stood apart from each other. 

Aegon was wielding a tourney blade, contrary to Jace who still had his wooden sword. This was hardly a fair match, but as Ser Criston had pointed, there was no fair match on a battlefield.

"Blades up." He waited a moment for them to ready themselves. "Engage."

Aegon attacked first with a fearsome cry, assaulting Jace with a number of blows that were all blocked by the latter’s shield. Jacaerys was being pushed back until he saw an opening and thrusted forward. Unfortunately, his wooden sword was stopped by Aegon’s chest plate, allowing the latter to rush into his nephew and ram into his shield with his shoulder, making the boy fall under the laughs of Jon’s twin. 

Jace did not stay down for long however, and with a fearsome cry of his own he surprised Aegon with an assault. Aegon took a few steps back to avoid being hit, then he went back on the offensive, forcing Jace back behind his shield. Aegon stroke again and again, laughing as Jace gave him more ground.
"Be smarter, Jace!" Jon said loudly. "Use his strength against him."

Jacaerys dropped to his knees, surprising Aegon who hit the air above him, then he rose his wooden sword to aim at his opponent’s throat, forcing the latter to stumble backwards to avoid defeat, he kept doing so for Jace had gotten back up and advanced towards him.

"Knock it away!" Was Ser Criston’s instruction, and Aegon did, regaining the advantage.

"Press him harder, don’t let him fool you!"

Aegon hit Jace’s shield, again and again, the brown haired boy let out a cry of pain as he felt his arm getting weaker.

"Keep your shield up no matter what!" Jon commanded, and his nephew obeyed him despite the pain that radiated in his arm. "Deflect!"

Jacaerys did, and spun around to hit his opponent’s head. But the latter lowered it just in time to avoid the blow and resumed his attack. Jace blocked with the shield but he was unbalanced and fell backward under the strength of the blow.

Aegon rose his sword once again, but Jon stepped forward and blocked it with his own tourney blade. His twin rose his head and the two brothers challenged each other with a threatening glare.

"That’s enough." Ser Criston commanded. "Aegon won the spar."

Said Aegon snorted in satisfaction at those words and backed away, allowing Jon to help Jace up.

"You did well."

"I lost." Jace said, disappointed. 

"Aegon is six years your senior and wields a tourney blade, the point of training isn’t to win, but to get better, and you got better, you didn’t lower your shield and your movements were far better timed than it had been during our spar."

Jace stretched his arm and grimaced in pain, Jon put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Remember this pain, it means you’re alive."

Jace nodded, and chuckled when his uncle yawned.

"Aemond, come with us. Let’s see what Ser Criston has taught you."

Aemond frowned, clearly displeased by the idea of being near Jace. But he ended up nodding, Jon turned towards Cole.

"Lucerys needs to spend more time learning the basics, can you take care of this while I deal with Aemond and Jacaerys?"

Criston, dutiful as ever, merely nodded, and Luke happily followed the Kingsguard.

Now alone with Aemond and Jace, Jon turned towards his nephew.

"Go get yourself a tourney blade, no shield for now, you need to build your strength."

Once Jace went to arm himself, Jon turned towards Aemond and his pouty face.

"Do you really feel that bad, Aemd?"

His brother looked down, not wanting to meet his face.

"I’ve had a talk with Jace last night." Jon told him. "He cried himself to sleep out of guilt, please don’t hate him."

"I don’t hate him!" Aemond said quickly. "I just… It hurt more than I expected."

Jon was about to answer when Jace came back. He gave a look at his brother, informing him that they’d talk later, and went into position to go on with their training.

First, Aemond and Jace spared against one another, when Aemond won, Jonothor told them to unite and fight him. When he won, he started giving them pointers as to how they must fight when they have the number on their side.

The training session lasted for another hour, when they were all done, Jacaerys was told by Jon to go see the grand maester about the pain in his arm, Aemond had brightened up a little and Luke looked like his name day had came up early. Even Aegon was in a good mood, perhaps too much of a good mood. For, once Ser Criston had called the end of the session, he said in mock protests:

"But my dear twin and I haven’t been given the occasion to spar against one another."

Silence fell on the training yard as Jonothor frowned at Aegon

"Is that really what you want, brother?"

"Oh, I do, Jonothor, I really do. And I believe it is high time for both of us to start using live steel, what say you, brother?"

"No!"

Everyone looked up to see King Viserys had stood from his chair, his body was shaking, but he hadn’t stutter.

"Neither of you will wield live steel against one another, you’re brothers, twins. Stop this madness at once!"

Jon was surprised, his father rarely interfered whenever Aegon and he got into an argument or threatened to deal with one another. He guessed it was never too late to do the right thing, though his twin looked disappointed.

He did not say anything, he simply spun on his heels and left dropping his training sword in the dust.

AN: In the show, Criston Cole is unbelievably cruel towards Jace during the spar, ordering Aegon to keep on attacking even though Jace is on the ground. Probably to taunt Harwin Strong and to get his sweet revenge on Rhaenyra. In this story, Cole has far too much respect for Jon to do so, even though he secretly wants it.