The courtiers felt into an uprorar. Harrold bowed his head. "As it is ." Suddenly A voice cut through the uproar. "Since when does a traitor possess the right to judge a crowned king?" Every head turned.
Vaelaris stood with his arms folded across his chest, golden eyes fixed upon Ser Harrold. He said "i will be the one who will fight on behalf of the king" Jaehaerys sat again, his heart pounding. Below him, Vaelaris stepped forward, his boots silent against the stone.
"Your Grace," he said, low enough for only Jaehaerys to hear. "You do not have to fight. why do you have to stain your hands with this traitors blood." Jaehaerys' fingers tightened "He challenged my clain of the throne, so its fair enough i answer to him." Vaelaris' golden eyes burned. "A king does not answer to each and everyone and specifically not to traitors."
Rogar shifted, his hand still resting on his sword. "Your Grace, Vaelaris is right, you cannot let traitor do as he please let another stand in your place." Jaehaerys left it while slowly shaking his head. muttering "No. This was my burden." Vaelaris' jaw clenched. Then he was moving, descending the steps, his cloak billowing. The courtiers parted before him.
Harrold turned, his hand going to his sword. Vaelaris stopped before him. "You wish to prove my brother's right to rule? Then face me." Harrold's eyes narrowed. "You are not the king." A thin smile touched Vaelaris's lips. "No."
"But I am his sword." Hearing this Jaehaerys also leaned back on his throne, he did not want to always go against his brother everytime although he did not have that much bond with him as much as he had with his sister Alyssane but still he was his brother, his own blood
Jaehaerys stood up again "So its has been decided vaelaris will be my challenger." The hall held its breath. Grand Maester Benifer stepped forward slowly, his chain rattling softly against his robes. "By the ancient laws of gods and men," he proclaimed, his voice carrying through the throne room, "trial by combat has been invoked."
The hall fell silent. "Let it be known that Ser Harrold Langward stands in judgment before the Seven. Prince Vaelaris Targaryen shall champion the cause of King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, First of His Name." Benifer raised his staff. "May the gods grant victory to the righteous." He brought it down sharply upon the stone floor.
"Begin."
Then, with a slow nod, vaelaris unsheathed his sword. The steel gleamed in the torchlight. The blade was long, dark, unadorned. Harrold quickly drew his blade and took a stance in caution. Vaelaris did not. He stood there, his fingers loose hand resting on the hilt of his sword, with his sword kept point towards the ground and his golden eyes locked onto harrold.
Harrold's eyes narrowed. "You mock me, prince" Vaelaris said nothing. He simply waited A whistle cut the silence. Harrold lunged. His sword flashed, a silver arc aimed at Vaelaris's throat. Vaelaris moved sidewards like smoke. His blade flashed, meeting the strike with a ringing clash. Steel slid against steel, sparks flying the impact ringing through the hall as the two men circled whole clashing their swords. There was brute force presentation.
Harrold was cautious, testing for weakness. Vaelaris gave him none. With a twist of his wrist, striking neatly at his weapon, which caught Harrold's sword near the hilt, twisting it from his grip. Steel clattered to the stone, skidding across the floor. Before Harrold could react, Vaelaris' blade was at his throat.
The knight froze. Then Vaelaris came close leaning in, catching harrold off guard. Vaelaris leaned close enough for only Harrold to hear. "You should have accepted the mercy offered to you. I am not at all merciful"
Then: Dark Sister moved. One clean stroke. Harrold's head rolled, his body crumpling to the ground in a grotesque heap. Blood sprayed like a crimson fountain splattering Vaelaris' face, his cloak and the floor beneath him.
The hall erupted. A few turned away, their faces pale with horror. Vaelaris stood there motionless, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. The blood on his face glistened stark against his silver hair.
Jaehaerys stood, his heart pounding. Below him, Vaelaris turned, golden eyes meeting his. Blood dripped from his blade. He descended the steps, his boots echoing. He stopped before his brother. His face unreadable. Holding him by his shoulder "Brother, You did not have to do this."
Vaelaris wiped his blade on his cloak. "I do. You do have to make an example of them such that they do not again stand against your claim of king." His voice, when he spoke, was low, measured—yet it carried the weight "Brother. You do not have to fight. You do not have to stain your hand.
Vaelaris met his brother's gaze. "You are the king." His voice was quiet, yet every lord heard it. "You carry the crown. Let me carry the blood." He lowered his sword. "I will be your sword, brother.
"You should wash," Jaehaerys said. Vaelaris touched his cheek, his fingers coming away red. "It has already dried." A servant approached, hesitant, holding a basin of water. Vaelaris ignored him. The water trembled in the man's hands before he retreated, his footsteps quick .
Jaehaerys felt the weight of the Iron Throne at his back, the cold press of the blades beneath his fingers. He had not wanted this. He had not wanted blood to stain the first court of his reign. it had and now, the court would remember. He turned to the court, his voice ringing clear, regal. "Ser Harrold Langward demanded judgment. He has received it." He gestured to the body, the head, the blood.
"Let this be a warning to any who would question the right of the Iron Throne. The gods have spoken. The court is dismissed," Jaehaerys said. The words were met with silence. Then, slowly, the maester, the advisors began to rise. The scrape of chairs, the murmur of voices, the rustle of fabric—all of it returned in a rush, as though the hall had been holding its breath.
Alysanne rose from her seat. Her skirts whispered against the marble as she descended the dais. She stopped before Jaehaerys, her violet eyes searching his face, her expression softening. "The lords will talk. They will say you are weak. That you hide behind your brother" Jaehaerys exhaled, the weight of the crown pressing down on him heavily. "Let them talk." He looked at Vaelaris, then back at her.
Alysanne lips pressed into a thin line. "Then you must act. Show them strength. Show them you are not afraid." Jaehaerys almost laughed. "I am not afraid. But I am not a fool, either." He gestured toward the open doors "What happened today will surely travel back to all the lords and their keeps and they will wait. To see if I am truly king—or just another boy on a throne."
Jaehaerys turned to Rogar "Tell grand maester bennifer , Send ravens to major houses," Jaehaerys said. "To Stokeworth. To Massey. To Harte and Bar Emmon and And tell them I expect their oaths before the moon turns and leave other for 3 day period."
Alysanne touched his arm. "You did what you had to," she said quietly. Jaehaerys did not answer. He knew she was right. But that did not make it easier.
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