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Sometimes being brave is stupid, but sometimes it's not. But in this situation where the king does whatever he wants, it is dangerous-deadly even. Standing inside the Throne room, the room witch is covered with Targaryen banners and dragon skulls, it would a question of why you'd put up a fight before the king.
A silence in the throne room witch can cut deeper then valeryon steel is upon every Lord and Lady. They each hold their breaths as if breathing can make them burn. The king looks like what he normally looks- mad in silence, long nails, grey and pale hair that haven't been washed in months. His clothes was still the same as he wore everyday-thinking if anyone touched him he would be betrayed and poisoned.
In his youth, while not being the most intelligent, nor the most diligent of princes, he was described as having an undeniable charm. He was generous, handsome and resolute, although somewhat quick to anger. He was also vain, proud, and changeable, traits that made him easy prey for flatterers. As he grew older, Aerys became increasingly jealous, suspicious and cruel, prone to furious outbursts.
Kneeling before the king sits a traitor-in Aerys's eyes- black hair, long face, white-but pale skin, his clothes muddy and filthy. His black hair is long and filled with mud, his hair stood just about his shoulders. He has a slender and muscular figure, Aelinor would call him handsome. He looks down on the grown, fear in his eyes.
"So you are the traitor who has tried making a revolution in Flea Bottom." Nobody speaks.
Aerys eyes darkened, "Answer me you coward" No answer. Everyone knowing whats coming next hold their breaths and looks away. It was no pretty sight-burning. "Rossart!" he called furiously and excited. "Bring this coward fire and blood" Rossart nods his head and obeys his king.
Aelinor looks at the boy with wide eyes. He looked young, probably the same age as herself. Aelinor gave a shakily sigh and looked away. Her father would demand his son and daughters presence to watch what happened to traitors to the iron throne. She hated it, hearing people scream and shout, while the burning slowly takes their life. Aelinor has never really gotten used to it, not that anyone else has.
The boy screamed.
Loudly.
Aelinor had to close her eyes hard. No one would dear interrupt or speak or even scream. They knew what happened if they did.
As the boys shout slowly came into an end his body was dragged out of the court. The smell of burning flesh still in the air in the room. The king looks satisfied and excited with a cruel smirk on his face and purple eyes that screams madness. Aelinor knew what was about to happen. Every time their father burned people he grew aroused. And being the queen Rhaella would always have to do her duty. The king walked out of the room with the queen silently walking out behind him, scared.
