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“Come in.” Jon called out after it had knocked on the cabin door that he shared with Torrhen on the ship, they were soon going to pass over into the Shivering Sea and then it wouldn't be long anymore until they reached White Harbor. Everyone on board seemed to begin to complain about the cold, except for Uncle Benjen who looked more smirking day by day.
Jon and Torrhen had yet to really feel it as well, only at night sometimes they both pulled the blankets tighter around themselves.
The door opened and Rhaena peeked in, hair open for once, no braid in sight and her dress one of the comfortable ones she liked to wear when she was playing with the little ones. “Hey, can I come in?” She wanted to know and Jon waved her inside, pushing the book away he had been reading in since Torrhen had stopped his worryward hovering and had skipped back on deck. “You feeling any better?”
Jon grimaced, leaned back into his pillows as he was the continous shifting of the ship against the storm outside was bearable, especially since he had downed Uncle Oberyn's disgusting potions.
“Don't make me get up and I'll be splendid.” He gave in answer and Rhaena snorted, climbing up on his bed and flopping down at his side unusually gracelessly.
“Are you well enough for a story?” She asked and smiled up at him, Jon raised an eyebrow at her, not surprised she had come to him but surprised that she had wanted one when there was so much to see on deck, “Something with people being brave.”
“Those are sometimes sad.” Jon gave in warning but already began to think of someone, entertaining Rhaena with a story would be more distracting than reading the same book for the third time.
“That doesn't matter, just one where... a Knight maybe is very brave.” Rhaena demanded politely and snuggled into one of the pillows that Torrhen had heaped over from his bed earlier.
“Brightflame's Star?” Jon offered up, since he had spoken about dragon dreams, a lot of people in his surroundings were suddenly very insisting and interested in reminding him of what some of his ancestors had done to birth dragons. A constant reminder of 'what not to do'.
Jon wouldn't say Aerion Brightflame was a favourite of his, quite on the contrary, he could sparsely believe he shared blood with that special kind of crazy, but even the mad ones had their stories to tell at times.
And for all the cruelty that Brightflame had thrown out, he had also done the house of his lady mother a great deed.
“Oh, yes.” Rhaena cheered quietly and snatched a part of the blanket away from Jon, he rolled his eyes over it but settled deeper into the pillows, shortly thinking over how to begin.
How to begin the story of how a Sword of the Morning and Dawn had been saved by Prince Aerion Targaryen.
“Born in 200 AC, Floryn Dayne was the youngest son of Dondric Dayne, Lord of Starfall, and through the marriage of his aunt Dyanna, Floryn was Prince Maekar's nephew. Having been titled Sword of the Morning at age 18, Floryn had squired for his cousin Aerion after Brightflame's return from Lys, and had then been knighted by Aerion at age 16 after earning his spurs. Despite being nearly a decade apart in age and very different in nature, Aerion and Floryn became friends and not a few say that Floryn was the only true friend Brightflame ever had. Floryn died in 232 AC, days after he had suffered bad burns trying to save his friend after Aerion had drunk his wildfire to become a dragon. But our story begins earlier, in 219 AC, as the Golden Company lands on the shore of Maidenpool and Ser Floryn fought in the battle of the Third Blackfyre Rebellion at Aerion's side.”
--
There weren't a great many things that Floryn feared, great swordsman that he was and with someone as powerful and feared as Prince Aerion being his friend, he didn't have many enemies. And those he had usually never stood a chance against the milky white blade in his hands. Dawn and him were one, one and the same when it came to fighting, they moved together, they breathed together.
Nothing got in between Floryn and her.
Not even Lord Bloodraven had held against Floryn and Dawn, Dark Sister had not broken under her might as usual steel swords sometimes could do but she had needed to yield. And that had been a great feeling, especially when Floryn had caught Aerion's glowing eyes from across the courtyard, and even Uncle Maekar had smiled for once.
There was one sword though that Floryn feared.
A sword he knew not even Dawn might so easily get to yield under her magic.
It wasn't a sword that Floryn ever thought to be facing so he hadn't spend as much time thinking about a strategy.
Which was a mistake, a big one.
Fighting had been going great as the battle between Targaryen forces and the Golden Company raged on, Floryn had only cashed in a hit against his side earlier but barely felt the pain. He had lost sight of Aerion minutes ago after his horse had been cut down and he had needed to continue on foot, hoping to rediscover bright red armor.
He got something other in red instead.
Hearing someone approach from behind him, Floryn spun around and then flinched when the metallic screech hit his ears, only to freeze a second later just like his opponent, both of them clearly not having expected it.
A high metallic screech of Valyrian Steel meeting the magic one of Dawn.
And as far as Floryn was concerned, there was only one Valyrian Steel sword on the side of the enemy, and his blood turned to ice in his veins as his eyes flickered down to the hilt of the sword braced against Dawn's shining blade.
He saw red rubies.
He saw dragon heads in silver.
Blackfyre in all his glory.
Floryn tensed his shoulders and braced his feet harder against the ground as he looked up, and he had to look up. Floryn had never been small, the tallest of his brothers, but even he was at least half a head smaller than the man glowering down at him out of furious and so bitter purple eyes.
Aegor Rivers.
Bittersteel.
The Founder of the Golden Company and wielder of Blackfyre.
A cocky Sword of the Morning as he might be, even Floryn could have done without meeting this man in battle.
“Would you look at that. Blond hair, lilac eyes and a very pretty blade. Can only be a whelp of my nephew's dead wife's House. And Dornish at that, too.” Bittersteel snarled and Floryn wanted to cut back at him for daring to call Prince Maekar his nephew, for daring to even think about breathing a word about Aunt Dyanna but he held his tongue. Aerion was the one whose tongue ran faster than his mind even, Floryn was the one who thought first and cleaned up Aerion's mess after. “What, nothing to say?”
Nothing to him. Never to him.
Not since his sellswords had killed Floryn's brother on open sea in a coward's attack. Frydo and his crew had never stood a chance and Bittersteel was going to pay for it.
In blood.
Floryn roared and let Dawn sing.
Only...Blackfyre sang just as loud.
And what they might have in matched skills, Aegor Rivers still held one great advantage over Floryn and his body of eight and ten. Almost three decades more of experience. Aegor had already been fighting in the Redgrass Field Battle at the side of Daemon Blackfyre before Floryn had even been born.
And it was Floryn who paid with blood.
Already injured, his left side made itself known when he parried another hard blow of Blackfyre, his ears ringing with the sounds of the blades hissing at each other.
“Come on, kid, you're not match for me.” Bittersteel taunted him, “Kneel down for me and I'll make it quick.” He snapped and brought Blackfyre down again but Floryn dodged and let Dawn take a swing at the older man. He didn't let himself be pulled into any verbal sparring games, he had at an earliest age learned to avoid that, growing up in parts in Summerhall had prepared him for that at least, and having Aerion as a best friend certainly taught you how to deal with smug bitter idiots.
Bittersteel was just too good though.
With a cry breaking past his lips, Floryn felt Blackfyre cutting into his side and Bittersteel kicking him to the ground after Floryn had been too late in blocking by the blink of an eye. He crashed to the ground with a loud scream, Dawn slipped from his hand and landed heavily in the grass.
And the last thing Floryn saw before the world around him went black was Aegor Rivers bending down.
Exactly over where Dawn had fallen.
--
“FLORYN!”
Floryn's world turned back to colors and sounds with a painful jolt.
“Flory, come on, open your eyes. Come on, cousin.”
Gasping for a deep breath that wouldn't come, lilac eyes opened and Floryn's battle instincts had him struggling against the hands pinning him down onto the ground.
“No, stay down.” The clear order followed and trained as he was in it, Floryn's body and mind heeded Aerion's wish. “He got you bad, stay still, just look at me.” Trying to breathe past this flaming sword pinned into his side somewhere, Floryn blinked up at Aerion, saw how violet eyes flickered around. Aerion's hands were pinning down his shoulders, his Prince was bloodied but Floryn hadn't expected anything else, could see that none of it was Aerion's own.
Aerion fought dirty.
Aerion didn't fight honorable.
And that thought brought Floryn to a full stop.
“Dawn.” He spit out weakly after a second and Aerion focused back on him, “Aerion, where is Dawn? Where is she?” His hands hands moved but he found nothing in the grass, “Aerion, give me Dawn.”
No.
No, it couldn't be.
Do not let it be true.
“Flory, you need to calm down, you're losing too much blood.” Aerion broke through his bubbling despair but Floryn couldn't calm down, not when he felt Aerion's sword against his hip, not when there was the sound of clashing steels farther off, not when there was no Dawn.
He couldn't have lost Dawn.
Had he dropped...
Oh no.
Bittersteel had bent down.
He had bent down...just as Floryn's world had gone black.
Ignoring the agonizing pain in his side, Floryn roughly pushed Aerion's hands off of himself and then lurged up, biting back a scream as he grabbed onto his friend's shoulders.
“He has Dawn.”
Aerion frowned and Floryn wasn't so sure anyone if his words were coming out clear, his head was throbbing and he got aware of how badly he was swaying. Aerion even had to reach out and hold onto him, and then Aerion briefly turned his head to the side and snarled at some of his men to know where help was before he turned back to Floryn, “Okay, now, slow down, Flory, I got you. Bittersteel is gonna get it now, Uncle Brynden took him on.”
“Bittersteel has Dawn.”
And there Aerion froze.
Just as Uncle Maekar appeared and threw himself to his knees on Floryn's other side, immediately pushing Floryn to lie down again.
“What are you two doing, “ He snapped out in gruff tones, pressing a hand against Floryn's bleeding side but Floryn could only stare at Aerion, willing his stunned cousin to understand, “You know perfectly well to keep someone with wounds like this still and not moving around. I cannot...”
“Father, Bittersteel has Dawn.” Aerion interrupted his princely father and they both looked over to a suddenly very still Prince Maekar whose eyes were set onto Floryn's bloodied side.
At least until he slowly raised his head.
Dark violet eyes darkened even more, turning into furious thunderclouds.
“He has what?”
“After he cut me down with Blackfyre,” Floryn began and then coughed, grimacing when the warmth in his throat showed that it was blood, Aerion wiped it away from his chin, “He took her. I know that he did, uncle.”
“You get that sword back, Aerion.” Maekar snarled out sharply and Floryn could only blink weakly up at his uncle who was still pressing hands upon his chest but looking over to his secondborn. “And son,” Aerion froze where he had already picked himself up on his feet again as his father grabbed onto his upper arm, now crouched at Floryn's uninjured side, “All means necessary! You get that sword back from that dretched Company. And you take down as many men as you can.” Maekar made clear and Floryn for once didn't care at all about what dark glint stole itself over Aerion's eyes.
They couldn't get Dawn. Bittersteel just couldn't get Dawn.
He already stole Blackfyre, he couldn't get Dawn as well.
“Yes, Father.” Aerion showed he had understood and then he leaned down to Floryn again, Aerion's hand squeezing his shoulder, “Hold on, Flory.” He ordered and then jumped back to his feet. Aerion was gone in the next second, his voice loudly calling for a horse and some men, Floryn turned his eyes back onto his uncle.
“I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, uncle.”
“Shush now, Floryn, you're gonna be okay. I'm not going to deliver my good-brother another dead son home.”
--
“I'm cold.”
He was.
Floryn was so cold. Shivering in the sun of Maidenpool, eyes slipping close again and again and only reopening because his uncle wouldn't let him sleep.
“Stay with me, Floryn.” His uncle shook him gently again so that Floryn groggigly focused on him, they were running out of things to talk about, “I'm gonna be completely selfish right now and won't allow you to die. Your father still blames me for his sister's death. He blames me because Fendric got hurt. He will find some way to blame me for Frydo as well, you know your Pa, Floryn, so at least let me bring one son home to him in one piece.”
Arguing was useless.
Not only because Floryn's tongue felt too heavy to speak but also because Uncle Maekar was dead right, Floryn's father did hate him and blame him for a lot of the pain that had been dealt to House Dayne in the last two decades.
Ridiculously enough, Aunt Dyanna's children were always welcome at Starfall.
And speaking of cousins...
“I found Lady Shiera.” Aegon announced unnecessarily and Floryn cringed when he caught sight of the thin pale haired only female Great Bastard crouching down at his side. He didn't hate her, it wasn't the right word for it but everyone knew she was partly to blame for Aegor Rivers' bitterness and anger towards the Targaryens and her dabbling in the dark arts was frightening.
It was frightening and what was even worse, it had begun to draw Aerion in.
“Where did Aerion vanish off to?” Aegon wanted to know and looked around, like his brother was even capable of getting unnoticed, at the young Prince's side, Ser Duncan looked as alarmed as ever, even though the battle had long since been shifted into their upper hand. Or at least a Kingsguard had told Uncle Maekar as much only minutes ago.
“Can you help him?” Said uncle was just then asking the woman who was technically his aunt, a woman he usually didn't concern himself with.
“Yes,” Lady Shiera said in her quiet voice, mismatched eyes looking over Floryn's pinched face, “I'll just need to grab a few things. Ser Floryn, I'm sorry that he...”
“Don't.” A voice snarled out from behind Ser Duncan, having Aegon actually jump and then quickly get out of his brother's way as Aerion reappeared, looking worse than ever, blood still dripping down one shoulder, trailed by two Kingsguards, “Don't you even dare say his name. Go and fetch what you need, we need your skills, not your apologies.” Shiera Seastar nodded and then rushed off, no one following her.
Floryn let his eyes flicker over Aerion, hoping and praying that none of the blood he could see on him was his own, not when Floryn hadn't been there to have his back.
It got all wiped away though when Aerion drew the greatsword from his back and laid it down at Floryn's right side.
Dawn.
“What the bloody Seven hells happened to you?” Aegon's loud outcry was the last thing Floryn heard before there was only darkness again.
--
Floryn woke up.
He actually woke up to a new day, his eyes slowly blinking against the light that flooded his senses as he struggled for a moment to get his bearings. He was laid up on a cot that was way softer than the ones he had been used to in the last weeks and a brief look only at his surroundings proved that he laid in a royal tent of high caliber and not his own.
The banner over the tent flap showed the quartered Targaryen dragon and Floryn breathed in and out deeply, his uncle's tent then. Everything had worked out as uncle had promised.
The wind let the tent's entrance flaps move for a moment and he caught sight of the green cloak that could only belong to Ser Duncan who was then obviously standing guard. On another cot across the tent, one hand still holding a whetstone, Aegon was snoring away, face turned into his rolled up cloak and his sword lying forgotten on the ground.
Floryn slowly moved his head to the other side, his lips tugging up into a weak smile when he found Aerion sleeping in a chair right next to him, head rolled to the side to lean upon some rolled up tunic of his, legs spread out.
And his right hand holding Dawn.
The relieved breath that wooshed through his chest agonized his wounds painfully and it though it only barely distracted him from the sheer relief of seeing Dawn safe again, Floryn still reached for the blanket and pulled it away. He revealed his chest wrapped in white bandages, just when he was about to poke them with a hand that felt so numb, a paler one snapped out and stopped him.
“Don't,” Aerion yawned and straightened up, “Lady Shiera put something on it to help against infection, you need to rest.” And gently almost Aerion pushed him back down into the pillows and pulled the blanket over him again. Deep violet eyes looked to Floryn's own lilac ones. “We won, obviously. Haegon is dead and we got Bittersteel. It's over.”
“It won't be over until Aegor loses his head.” Floryn croaked out and closed his eyes again, blinking them open again a moment later when his mind reminded him of something important, he looked back over to his best friend, “Thank you, Aerion. Thank you for bringing Dawn back.”
“For you all the damn time, little cousin.” Aerion smirked at him and then leaned back in his chair, “And now sleep, get your strength back.”
--
“Later, Floryn will hear just what Aerion did to get Dawn back but Floryn will find that for once he doesn't care.”
When Jon finished, he glanced over to Rhaena and smiled when he found her asleep, and then smiled even bigger when he found his father watching them from the open door, on his back the very same sword that Aerion Brightflame had saved.
For House Dayne.
And for his best friend Floryn.