Chapter 26
VALARR TARAGRYEN
Valarr had long known that his brother was special. That he was meant for greatness. It was a sobering realization, and one that should have haunted him yet Valarr had only ever felt proud of Matarys.
His brother had always had an Iron will, and refused to let the world beat him down. He believed in honor and chivalry, and had made himself into one of the finest knights within the realm through sheer hard work, and Valarr had always felt relieved by the fact that there was Matarys watching his back.
But that surety and belief was now being challenged as his brother lay in the bed, fighting for his life. The Maesters had done all they could, and now the third Sun had risen since that wretched day and yet his brother remained lifeless still, as Valarr sat there besides him helplessly.
Aerion's cowardice had been deadly, and of the Fourteen men who had drawn their blades for the trial, seven were dead including his own father, Prince Maekar. Valarr was not much close to the man, yet he was still family.
The man had died trying to save his son, whose very treachery had put his brother's life in danger. Valarr had seen it. He had heard it, how his cousin had yielded to his brother while kneeling in front the bleeding body of his father.
That had been the end of the trial, and while Valarr had little love for his uncle, Matarys had squired for the man and the two were said to be rather close and so with that trial over, his brother had quickly turned towards the stands to call for the Maesters and that had been his failing.
With his back turned to him, Aerion had chosen to draw his blade and attack his brother and because of his treachery, his brother was fighting a battle with the Stranger itself.
The bastard had lost an arm afterwards, but the Gods had shown him mercy and he had heard how his cousin had woken up today from his slumber, yet his brother still remained asleep.
"Please, Matarys," Valarr begged as he held his brother's cold hand.
"You have to wake up," and his brother was still too young. He wasn't even married yet. He had an entire life ahead of him.
He was meant to be his Hand, and rule beside him. They were supposed to join their lines, and rule over the realm together.
"You can't leave me alone. You can't," he begged, and yet he refused to budge as Valarr's eyes teared up in rage and frustration.
Suddenly he heard the door behind him slide open, and he heard someone slowly walk forward until they were standing just beside him. And it was perhaps the person who had been wronged the most apart from his own brother, and what was meant to be a celebration for her name day had turned into a slaughter that would go down in histories of many a Houses.
She was young still, and he had no doubt that she would carry the haunting memories of this day for her entire life ahead.
"I believe I owe you an apology, my lady," Valarr began, as he turned towards the girl.
"What for?" she asked softly, with her eyes refused to leave his brother lying on the bed.
"Matarys. My brother,he had no desire to ruin your nameday," and he had met him earlier on the day of the trial, and had asked him to convey his words to the young lady of the House.
Valarr had not thought much of it at the time, for he had failed to grasp the severity of the calamity that lay ahead.
"He was pained by the spectacle, and the toll it would take on you," and she did not deserve this. No one did.
"He asked me to offer you, his apology. I just never thought that I would have to offer it to you myself," and there was only silence in the room for a second and he half expected the girl to lash out.
"I do not blame him for anything," and the words surprised him, as he looked up and saw a tear sliding down her face.
"I had heard tales about the Prince, and his chivalry. The whole realm had, but I am afraid none of I never truly understood the weight of a knight's vows until now," and she took a deep breath.
"Your brother is a great knight. One of the only ones I have ever seen," and Matarys that was true.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You should go," she added, as Valarr frowned.
"The preparations are nearly complete for your Prince Maekar's funeral. They are waiting for you," and Valarr had no desire to leave his brother's side, but whatever the circumstances Prince Maekar was his kin and as a Prince of the realm he had to be there.
"Do not worry," the Lady Gwin added, reading his mind.
"I will sit by your brother, while you are gone," and then she eyed him softly.
"I will not leave him alone," and that was very thoughtful of her, and so Valarr rose up from his chair and let her sit in it.
"Thank you, my lady," and with those words he walked out of the room, and yet just as he was at the door Lady Gwin's scream made him halt his steps.
"He is awake. The Prince is awake!"
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MATARYS TARGARYEN
Pain was an old friend.
But this was different. The mere act of existing pained him, as the Maester slowly examined him while his father hovered over his head.
"He is weak still, but it seems like the worst is behind us now," the Maester added, and the relief on his father's face was visible.
"Still, the Prince should rest for a few days and avoid any journey at all," and his father nodded as the Maester stepped back.
"Thank you, Maester Idris," and the aged man nodded as he made to leave, leaving him alone with the heir to the Iron Throne.
"How many?" Matarys whispered, as he stared at the ceiling, and his father answered with a solemn voice.
"Seven," and the number weighed heavily on his heart. Seven lives. Seven families. All ruined because of his pride.
"Including Maekar and Manfred," and the two of them were his kin, from father and mother's side respectively. Maekar had been the one to teach him about sword and lance, while Manfred had been the one to lend his armies against the Vulture King.
He owed these two men much, and yet both of them were dead because of him.
"But make no mistake. No one blames you for it," and he truly doubted that.
"He was your brother," and he had died by his hands, and it would not surprise him if his father bore him some resentment for his selfishness.
"Aye, that he was," and Baelor Targaryen sat down on the edge of the bed.
"And not a day goes by when I don't miss his presence, but Maekar did not blame you for the trial, just as I do not blame you for its consequences," and their eyes met, as his father lightly chuckled.
"My brother was proud of you, and the man that you had become. He rode into that battle for his son, while you rode for justice. You both had your own reason for fighting," and yet that did not lessen his guilt at all.
Matarys had considered this before the trial, but the reality of it was far more brutal than he had imagined. He could still see his uncle's dying face, as he bled out of his neck.
He could remember the light leaving his face. He could remember his scream, and the dagger and the pain that followed. He could remember it all.
"I know," he answered, as a tear slid down his face.
"I did not want him to die you know. I swear by the Seven," he whispered in a shaky voice as his father held his hand.
"I know. I know, but the realm will never believe you," Baelor Targaryen added.
"They will forget the trial. They will forget the accused and the accuser, but they will remember you. They will remember your sin, but not your suffering," and no man was more accursed than a kinslayer, and no matter the reason Matarys was a kinslayer.
He had killed his own uncle and the consequences of that would follow him for the rest of his life.
"They will shun you for it, but know this my son," and he looked at his father who offered him a nod, even while tears filled those mismatched eyes.
"I am proud of you. I always will be," and a tear slid down his cheek, as Matarys gave his father a nod.
"Thank you," and his father drew in a heavy breath before he wiped away the tears from his face.
"I must leave for the funeral now. You should rest," and he would have liked to be there, but he could hardly breathe without wincing in pain. It would be impossible for him to reach the yard.
"Would you say a prayer for me?" and his father nodded.
"I will," and with that he rose, and just as he was at the door Matarys spoke up once more.
"What became of Aerion?" and the last thing he remembered was his cousin's screams as his blade cut through his arm, and his father's feet halted at his words.
"Your cousin woke up a day ago," and he stilled as he heard those words.
"He will survive," his father answered as he glanced back at him with a heavy face.
"For now that is," and with those final words he left the room leaving him alone, but only for a few moments as the door swung open once more as the Lady of the House walked in.
"Lady Gwin," he greeted, softly and the young girl walked in and Matarys's heart lurched as he saw her, and she had been wronged by his actions.
The tourney was meant to be a celebration for her nameday, and yet the trial had ruined it all. Whispers and rumors would follow her now for her entire life, and she would never escape the shadow of his uncle's death for the rest of her life.
He did not know what to say to her, as she came and stood by him, and it took him a few minutes to find the right words.
"I owe you a great debt my lady," and he had brought her pain and misery on her nameday, and no one deserved that. Especially not a young girl like her.
"I shall do my best to pay it back," he promised her, and she shook her head.
"You owe me nothing, my Prince," she whispered back as she grabbed his hand and lowered herself on the bed.
"Nothing at all...."
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