Chapter Text
Aerion was certain he was going to kill the wandering knight. But almost nothing he planned ever turned out exactly the way he had planned it.
That thick-headed bastard was as tough and tall as a damn oak tree. Maybe that was what made him last longer... much to his misfortune.
The terrible pain from the blows against his head, the smell of his own blood, the ringing in his ears... humiliation, his father’s fury over having caused Uncle Baelor’s death, but... he hadn’t killed him. It had all been the wandering knight’s fault for not knowing his place.
He could feel his throat gagging, his trembling body, and he could hear himself choking on his own blood as it poured from his throat. He could still feel the cold dagger of his little brother piercing his throat.
And the last voice he managed to hear was his father’s, shaken and worried:
“Aegon... what have you done, boy?”
Now... darkness. Silence.He felt as though he had fallen into an abyss.And when he opened his eyes again, he had a piece of bread in his hands, almost touching his lips. But he didn’t bite into it. He pulled it away and stared at his hands. They looked like his hands.He put the bread back on the plate.Then he looked around. Apparently, he was in the dining hall. His brother Daeron was still drinking wine in the same unpleasant way he always did, and Aegon...Where was Aegon? It didn’t matter. Hopefully, he was dead. That insolent little rat. His brother Aemon was probably at the Citadel. His cousin Valarr still looked as perfect as ever and...Oh, gods, why the hell did he think he was beautiful?!
His face immediately turned red, and he looked away, returning his attention to his plate of food.
His nose felt more sensitive. Much more sensitive than before...He realized there were several different scents around him, but it wasn’t just that. Somehow, he could also perceive the emotions of the people around him...Just by breathing? Gods, that was strange. But when his eyes dropped and he saw what he was wearing, a high-pitched, utterly humiliating scream escaped his throat. It wasn’t even a normal scream. No, It was a horrible, embarrassing sound, he was wearing a dress, as if he were some stupid maiden.
His hands immediately went to his chest, pressing it down. It was still flat, so he supposed he was still a man, that was a relief. Then... why the hell was he wearing a dress?
“My son, what’s wrong? Are you all right, darling?” His father’s voice... soft, filled with concern.
Aerion didn’t answer him. He simply stared at him, his eyes slightly widened in shock. His scent, which he hadn’t noticed until now was lemon pie, began to turn sour, and now a scent like sour strawberries was coming from him.
He could also sense the air slowly filling with the concern of everyone around him.
“Nephew... you’re worrying us.”
Aerion turned toward his uncle, his eyes widening even further in surprise. As far as he knew, his uncle was dead.
Then... why was he sitting in the dining hall now, talking to him as though Aerion hadn’t been responsible for his death?
No, he hadn’t killed him, he had already told himself that. He hadn’t killed him. Gods...He felt his eyes beginning to water.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Damn it, no! He wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of everyone...He wasn’t going to...
A small whimper escaped him, and he immediately brought his hands to his mouth to silence himself. How embarrassing.
“Cousin, are you sure you’re all right?”
Shut up, Valarr. Shut up!! Aerion screamed internally.
Even so, he nodded. He wasn’t going to answer with words.
He rubbed his face roughly with both hands, wiping away the tears. Gods, where was he? At first glance, everything looked almost the same, but...The scents, his damn clothes!
The screech of the chair as Aerion suddenly stood up startled everyone at the table. Aerion could see how everyone was looking at him with deeply worried eyes. Even Daeron had stopped drinking. His hands went to the ruffles of his dress, gripping the fabric tightly. He wanted to tear it apart so he could look underneath. He needed to know if he still had a penis. But he couldn’t strip naked in front of everyone.
“I...”
His words died when he looked at his uncle again, and the urge to cry returned. So he chose not to speak. He shook his head vigorously and ran toward the door, but his father’s voice made him stop.
“Son, Aerion, please... tell me what’s wrong?”
Aerion closed his eyes for a moment before turning to look at him. He was still crying, but now the tears weren’t only from sadness.They were tears of rage. He glared at his father with furious eyes, his brow slightly furrowed.
“It’s horrible!” he shouted, pointing at his dress. “I hate it! I don’t like it!”
Nobody answered, they simply stared at him in complete bewilderment.
“Father... what day of the month is it?” Daeron turned toward his father, his eyes slightly widened, filled with a small, almost comical flicker of terror.
“Why do you ask?” Maekar looked at his eldest son, not understanding why he was asking that. After thinking about it for a moment, he finally understood what his son meant.
“Oh...” His lips parted, forming a small O.
“Aerion, little brother... are you... on your period?”
The question completely baffled Aerion. How could he be on his period? He was a man! Men didn’t bleed...Right?
But they were making him wear a dress, so...
“IDIOT!” he shouted at his brother. He ran toward the exit again, but he had to grab the front of his dress so he wouldn’t trip over it. He felt incredibly stupid. How embarrassing...Running like some stupid maiden.
When Aerion left the dining hall, he slammed the doors behind him, making his exit much more dramatic. Everyone slowly turned toward Daeron. They stared at him with slightly narrowed eyes.
“What? What did I do?”
Nobody dignified him with an answer.
“Rude...” Daeron hissed under his breath, lifting his wine cup back to his lips.