Prince Aemon 153AC:
Try as he must Prince Aemon Targaryen couldn't stave off the tears. The entire court stole glances in his direction, pitiful glances that only managed to grind his heart to dust. He did his best to retain some semblance of dignity but the tears kept coming slow and steady like the summer rain.
His brother Aegon glanced in his direction, a toothy grin of victory marking his face. Half the court began to whisper but Aemon kept his place, refusing to answer to the anger brewing in his heart. He had lost, his father had made his decision and he, like many men before him, had to live with that decision.
He stole a glance at his sweet sister, she hadn't looked at him at all today and he wondered if she was as disappointed in him as he was in himself. They'd spoken of running off together. She'd offered him that. A life together in Essos, living as man and wife. They wouldn't have palaces and crowns or seven kingdoms but they'd have one another. He'd wanted so badly to sneak away with her on a ship but he knew that doing so would only dishonor her. Their father had commanded she marry their brother and stealing a man's bride was the epitome of dishonor. He'd told her no and someplace in her heart a piece of the love she bore for him must have died.
The room grew silent as the High Septon began to speak. The words were a blur but he stood his ground, standing silently idle while the thing he wanted most in the world was ripped away from him. She was so much more than he deserved, more than he could have hoped for. He clearly didn't deserve her, elsewise the Gods would have answered his prayers. She'd been all he'd ever prayed for but in the end his father had given her hand to another. The Gods had deemed him unfit for her hand and now he was forced to stand aside while she wed the man the God deemed worthy of her heart.
"If any sees cause that these two should not be wed, let the Gods hear them now or may they forever honor this union."
The words burned through the silence like dragon fire. Every eye in the room again glanced in his direction as the entire court waited for him to gain his courage and fight for the thing he wanted the most. His brother Aegon gave him another glance and an even bigger smile and all Aemon could do was bury his head in shame as another tear escaped his eyes.
The rest of the ceremony was over before he realized it. The court began to move back towards the Red Keep for the feast and Aemon wondered if he'd be able to sneak away without notice. With his public humiliation fresh in everyone's mind he knew to sneak away now would only shame him more.
The feast had begun before he finally worked up the nerve to leave so he wrangled his courage and stood in line to offer his congratulations before doing so. The wait was nearly an hour and when he faced his brother and sister his heart broke once again.
"Prince, Princess," he said softly. His brother looked at him, smiled again, then leaned over and offered Princess Naerys a rough kiss on the mouth. She didn't resist, her gentle nature didn't allow it, and when Aegon pulled away she forced a smile.
"Prince Aemon," she said. Her voice did it's best to hide the pity she must have felt for him but he could hear it seeping through. He could again feel the eyes of all of Westeros on him and fought to contain his composure.
"Princess, I beg your leave. I feel suddenly ill," Aemon forced himself to say. He managed to get the words out but his eyes surely betrayed him.
Naerys only managed a nod, her eyes sad, full of sorrow and pity. How little she must have thought of him.
He took a step backwards to turn away but his brother was off his feet and grabbing his new bride by the arm. She came roughly out of her seat, stumbling into the table in front of her. "You can't leave before the bedding ceremony brother," he said with excitement. "You know how this works right? Maybe one day father can find you a bride. Of course, THIS sister is mine." He grabbed her roughly by the wrist, Naerys stumbling behind him. He could hear his sister softly begin to sob and something inside of him snapped.
His hand instinctively reached for the sword at his side and he took a few steps forward. The guests of the feast made a collective gasp.
"Prince Aemon," the voice said sharply.
Aemon recognized the voice immediately. King Aegon didn't speak often but his voice was unmistakable.
Aemon's hand released his sword and he finally noticed the staring eyes and shocked expressions. "I," he began before he dropped his head in shame. "I'm sorry."
The King rose to his feet and simply nodded his head. "You have our leave Prince Aemon."
Aemon nodded solemnly. "Yes, your Grace." He did his best to gather his dignity but the tears had returned and the entire realm watched as he walked away.
Princess Naerys:
"Any man does that to me and I'll put a sword through him," the gruff voice said with all the confidence of youth and freedom from responsibility. "I don't care if it IS my bloody brother. I mean the guy gets the girl but he still has to rub the other guy's nose in it? Who does that sort of thing?"
"They say Prince Aemon wept. They say he had to stand there and watch while Prince Aegon rubbed his nose in it the whole time," an even younger voice said with disdain. "Sounds like a cruel thing to do to your brother. I mean my brother gets on my bloody nerves but I'd never kick him when he was down. Especially if I'm the one who put him on the ground in the first place."
Naerys had been listening to the common folk all morning from her hidden spot in the garden. The wedding was all anyone had been talking about and she'd heard the story told a dozen times in a dozen different ways. Still it was always the same. Brave Prince Aemon had wept when he'd lost his lovely Princess Naerys. He'd stood by and held his tongue while her hand was given to another. He'd stood up quietly and bravely, but filled with pain and heartache, and when the High Septon had asked if anyone would stand and protest the union he'd stood silent and wept.
She'd heard the story a dozen times and each time it broke her heart. On some level she wished he hadn't shown up to the wedding. It would have made going through with it so much easier. She'd even considered asking him not to come but her handmaiden Lyssa Musgood had told her that it would only make things worse for Aemon. He needed to come to the wedding she'd said gently, so that he could say goodbye to her. It had seemed absurd to her at the time but when she'd heard the story it had all made sense.
"I heard he's going to take the black," the first voice said.
The words were a splash of cold water to Naerys' face. Take the Black? Aemon was leaving?
"Aye, I heard the same. I heard he finally had enough at the bedding ceremony. I heard he drew his sword when the Princess was dragged off crying. Nobody blamed him after what they put him through but he still feels like he dishonored himself and should have to take the black."
"The wall's no place for a Knight like him. A thousand years ago maybe. When the watch wasn't a bunch of thieves and rapist from the nearest dungeon."
"Well you can't expect him to stay HERE," the younger man said with shock.
"No, not HERE. Just not the Wall. I suppose his father could find him a wife of his own, that might take the sting out of it some."
Naerys' heart began to pound. A wife of his own? It almost hurt her to hear the words but she knew she wasn't in the position to argue. She was a wife now and wasn't in any position to let her jealousy guide her behavior. Wedded and bedded. She would never be his. Not now. He'd surely want to find a woman to wed himself now, if he wanted to wed at all that is. If he didn't take the black.
She breathed heavily, a heaping sigh. He'd promised her once that he would save himself. For her. She'd promised him the same but last night she'd broken that promise. The thought of breaking that promise made her cry heavy sobs, sobs that made her feel as if she were dying.
"Well it's not like he won't be able to find a woman of his own. He's a good looking chap. And a Prince. And from what I hear all the women in King's Landing are talking about it. A fortnight from now they'll have heard about it in Essos."
Naerys pushed herself up from her seat in the garden, pulled her cloak up over her hair and head back into the castle. Her first instinct this morning was to seek out her brother and have breakfast with him. Something they'd done together nearly every morning for as long as she could remember. But Lyssa had told her that today was not the day for such a thing. Aemon was a good man, and honorable, but he loved her dearly and seeing her now would only hurt him more than he already was. He'd been brave yesterday she'd said, brave and strong, but the entire realm had seen his heartbreak and subjecting him to more of it was cruel. She'd wanted badly to protest, to tell her friend she was wrong but Naerys knew she wasn't. Lyssa was always right about such things.
She contemplated life without her brother as she made her way back to the royal residence. It seemed a lonely prospect. The castle wouldn't be the same without him. He'd always been the best part of this place. She could remember the way he'd stay with her for hours while she read. Off in a corner swinging his sword while she poured over some old book or another. That was usually how they spent their days. Once upon a time she'd dreamed of being HIS wife. Belonging to HIM. When her father told her that she was to marry Aegon she'd protested. For the first time in her life she'd attempted to defy him. She wouldn't do it she'd said, she was saving herself for Aemon, HE was the one she loved. However her father had brushed her feelings aside.
Aemon hadn't said anything when she'd told him about the betrothal. He'd nodded quietly then rose from his seat at breakfast and head off to find their father. She'd assured herself that he could talk sense into the man. Aemon and father had always been close. If anyone could get him to change his mind it was Aemon. He'd returned later looking pale and white, his eyes blank, and she knew immediately father had denied him also.
Later she'd suggested they run away together. Off to the free cities where they could be together forever. They could live the rest of their lives as one, as man and wife. They could give it all away. Aemon had smiled and thought about it ever so briefly before he ran a gentle hand down her cheek. "I wouldn't have you dishonored My Lady," was all he said. She'd shook her head with frustration. What of my dishonor by HIM, she'd wanted to say. Aegon would never be good to her, or gentle, or faithful. He'd been rough last night and promised to be just as rough every night to come. She held her tongue. She knew it was pointless. Even if she did run away father would simply find her. He'd find them both.
She slowly made her way up the stairs stopping every few to rest. Usually Aemon would be by her side and he'd carry her up the stairs in his arms when she tired. She'd always felt so safe there. But no more. She'd never be safely tucked in those arms again. The thought of it made her sad and her heart broke once again.
She was halfway up when she heard the voices at the top. "The Hand went to speak to him after the wedding but Prince Aemon refused to see him. When he heard the rumors of Prince Aemon taking the Black he went back to see him this morning but the Prince refused him again. Instead of seeing him he sent his father a letter addressed simply to, The Hand. Lord Tarbeck didn't know what it said but he said the Hand's face went white when he read it."
"What do you think it said?" the old crone asked barely able to contain her excitement.
"Well I can't read, but one of the guards was able to get a peek at it and he said that Prince Aemon considers himself orphaned from here on out. He said he'll be respectful and proper when they meet but he should consider himself the father of only one son."
The first crone giggled. "Well what did he expect? I hear Prince Aegon humiliated Prince Aemon in front of the entire kingdom. And Prince Aemon begged his father to call it off, swore that he'd marry Princess Naerys himself and they'd be happy, bear children and do him proud. I heard he just waved him off. Told him that he should just accept things the way they are. His brother is older, he gets the girl. I guess that really made the Prince angry. He supposedly said, she's not just 'The Girl', she's the woman he loves. He told his father that Aegon would be happy with any woman as long as she was comely, insisted it didn't have to be Naerys he married. The Hand didn't care, he told him that he should and would find another girl to love."
"Sounds cruel. Then to subject him to that spectacle at the wedding. Of course he wants nothing to do with the man. To make him sit there and watch while Prince Aegon gloated and laughed in his face. He even held his tongue and wept when the High Septon asked if anyone would speak out. Wept real tears in front of half the nobles in the Kingdom. It's all anybody is talking about. Everyone thinks it was a mistake to not let him have the woman he loves. Especially after the pitiful display at the wedding. Imagine doing something like that to your own brother in front of everyone. A brother who has never done you wrong a day in his life."
"I heard he drew his sword and tried to rescue her," the crone said barely able to contain her excitement.
"Yes, he did, but The King stopped him before he could get there."
"The King. Surprised he made it out of his chambers for the wedding," the second crone said softly, but still loud enough for Naerys to hear.
"Speaking of chambers, we still got work to do, best get moving on before one of these visiting nobles complains. Next thing you know our heads will be on pikes, because some Lord or lady is forced to smell their own shit for more than thirty seconds.
Naerys laughed to herself as she made her way up the steps ever so slowly. By the time she made it to the top she could hear heavy footsteps coming down to the hall. She almost groaned, but kept her decorum. Princesses didn't groan. When the blurry figure came into focus she wished she had went ahead and groaned. Her father.
He didn't look as if he'd slept at all and his face was devoid of color. He almost looked frantic.
"Naerys, have you seen your brother Aemon?"
Naerys looked at him and in a move of defiance mirroring her brother turned her nose up at him and walked forward. "Princess or My Lady will do just fine Lord Hand. And no I haven't seen the Prince, but I doubt he'd want to see you. Can't see what business he'd have with the Hand of the King."
Her father Viserys, ever the stern disciplinarian called her name in anger. "Naerys, come back here. I am your father and you will listen to ME."
Naerys kept walking. "My father is dead to me. I'm a married woman. I only take commands from my King, my husband and the King's hand. If the Hand wishes to speak to me about matters of state I'll be in my chambers. If my father wishes to speak to me he can do so in the seven hells."
Prince Aemon 158AC:
He wasn't fit to wear the white cloak, he'd known that when the Lord Commander clipped it into place on his shoulders for the very first time. The Kingsguard was better than the wall, everyone had told him so. However at least at the wall people would have eventually forgotten about him. Out of eyesight, out of mindsight, they say. But dragons don't take the black, his King had told him so, if he really felt the call to a life of service he should take the White. Join the Kingsguard King Aegon III had told him. He'd had no choice but to obey. He couldn't very well tell his king that he wanted to run away.
It was true, Aemon hadn't wanted to serve, he'd wanted to escape. Escape the pain that surrounded him in Kings Landing. Every day he was forced to watch as his brother, as unworthy a man who had ever existed, lived the life he'd so badly wanted for himself. He'd watched as Aegon paraded women through the Kingdom dishonoring his marriage and his wife. Just two moons past, the King's Hand had sent Magette, the blacksmith's wife, back to her husband in the Riverlands. Rumors abound through the Red Keep that he'd fathered four bastard daughters on her. The Hand had been furious, he'd been heard to speak of the dishonor such an act had brought him. The four babes were said to have been given over to the Faith to be trained as Septas but Aemon doubted this. Bastard daughters, especially Targaryen bastards, were surely worth something. Many a Lord wanted a baseborn son to make some semblance of a life somewhere. It would be a much simpler life but Aemon had heard stories of Lords making their bastard sons landed knights. They'd soon settle down with a good woman, have children, and Gods willing, grow old. No doubt the Hand, ever the statesman, had put the young babes up someplace. They'd likely be raised, educated, and sent to settle some disagreement or another.
Princess Naerys had did her best to preserve her dignity when the rumors started. Her life had been hard since she'd wed Aegon. She'd given birth to a strong healthy baby boy soon after the wedding but the birth had almost killed her. She'd begged Aegon to release her from her wifely duties but Aegon had refused. As soon as Naerys recovered Aegon got back to attempting to produce another heir.
The Hand had tried to intervene but Aegon had even refused HIM. The Gods blessed me with a wife father, who am I to deny them, he'd said? The Hand had glared but in the end he'd been powerless to intervene. It wasn't his place to interfere with a man and wife. Even if that man and wife were children of his own body.
In the end Viserys had lost all of his children. Aegon, the son he'd thrown his lot behind made no secret that he loved his father little. Aegon loved himself above all others and was never hesitant to point that out. Aemon would never forgive Viserys for damning Naerys to a life of unhappiness and pain. He'd told the man as much in a letter after the wedding. It had been their last correspondence as father and son. Viserys had attempted to settle a peace between them but Aemon had refused all of his attempts. He hadn't spoken to his father since that day, five years now. To his utter shock Naerys had done the same. She'd referred to him ever since as Lord Hand. There was pain in the man's eyes but his stubborn temperament refused to allow him to acknowledge the slight. At least at first. Now the entire court could see his pain. Last year he'd even spoken to King Daeron about having Aemon's place in the Kingsguard set aside so he could marry. King Daeron had three sisters who would soon be ready to be wed. Princess Rhaena the middle daughter was said to favor Naerys in all of the most fundamental ways. She was still young but she was soft, kind, and sweet. She'd make a man a fine wife. The King had broached the subject with Aemon gently and Aemon had answered him just as gently.
"The Gods didn't see fit to make me a husband Your Grace. My white cloak will have to be enough."
The King had smiled at him, a sad smile that said much but also little. "Seems we must seek our happiness elsewhere Prince Aemon. Come with me to Dorne. Our Glory is there. Let us finish the work our grandsire started when he joined the six kingdoms. Let us make six kingdoms, seven kingdoms."
That conversation seemed so long ago. Dorne had been a tougher challenge than either of them had anticipated. They'd fought bravely and wisely but Dorne refused to bend the knee. By his estimate the royal army had lost nearly ten thousand men in the conquest. Aemon had seen enough war to last him a lifetime. He'd killed more men than he'd ever thought possible. He didn't even see their faces anymore, when he dreamed they all looked like his brother Aegon.
King Daeron I, the newly crowned king, insisted on riding the trails in Dorne himself. Out in front for all to see, like a King, he often said. Aemon thought it folly but knew better than to say that to the King. Instead he dedicated himself to being more careful of his surroundings. If the king died here amidst enemies and sand he knew it would be him the kingdom blamed. It would be HIS name they cursed.
Princess Naerys:
A woman doesn't cry for a man who is not her husband, but the news stole her breath away and the tears escaped her eyes like a raging river. She didn't believe it at first. It couldn't be true. Aegon was often cruel and frequently lied to her, but she knew by the cruel smirk on his lip and the utter joy in his voice that it WAS true. Aemon was hurt, maybe even dying.
Of course Aegon had come back from Dorne unscathed. He'd looked so sure of himself as he marched through the gates with hostages in tow. The word was he'd fought bravely in battle and had done himself an honor. He was a hero, at least he'd claimed to be. But as usual his heroics paled in comparison to Aemon's. According to rumor Aemon jumped in front of an arrow to save the king. The arrow had pierced his armor and embedded itself in his chest. And now there was talk that the arrow was poisoned.
Her heart ached. Aemon couldn't die. Not now. It had taken them so long to get back to the point that they had been in before her marriage. When they saw one another he finally allowed himself to smile again, and seeing him smile had always made her smile in return. When he made funny faces at her over breakfast she could forget just for a moment what life had become for them both. She was a wife and a mother and he was a professional soldier, sworn to the Iron Throne, but there was happiness and joy between them once again. The thought of losing him again was unbearable.
"Is he going to live," she asked softly?
The Hand only shrugged. "I don't know. He's unconscious. He has been for a while they say. At least a fortnight."
A fortnight? That wasn't good. Naerys wasn't a Maester but she knew the longer one stayed unconscious the more unlikely it was that they'd ever wake up.
"Is there something the Maester can do for him? Anything, he should try everything."
Viserys shrugged his shoulders. His long unkempt hair shaking wildly on his head. "I don't know, but I'll see that he gets the best care." He lowered his eyes to the table. "In the meanwhile he's going to need someone to look after him. He wouldn't want anyone to see him this way. Not after," he said, letting the words trail off. "It's important to him that people not think he's weak."
Something erupted inside Naerys. "He's not WEAK. He's strong, and brave. It took courage for him to accept what we've done to him father," she'd said the word before she realized it. She hadn't called him father in such a long time the word felt foreign on her tongue.
"What WE'VE done," he asked? For a moment she thought he was going to defend himself but he shocked her instead with an uncharacteristic admittance of guilt. "I know what I've done to him, but for the life of me I can't fathom what YOU would have done to hurt him."
Naerys felt the guilt come over her in a wave of familiarity. "I made him a promise once that we'd be together one day as man and wife. He believed me. He always believed me back then. If I were to tell him that the sky was turning to blood he wouldn't have felt the need to actually see it for himself before taking it as fact. I told him we'd be together one day and in his mind we would be. Of course he hedged his bets, he went to the sept and prayed for it every day. When I wed Aegon he stopped going. He hasn't been back to the sept since."
Viserys sighed and Naerys knew he didn't know that small tidbit. "Gods forgive me." He shook his head. "Naerys I'm sorry. I didn't understand it then but I do now. You and he were supposed to be together. I let my own issues with love, my love for your mother, pepper my ideas on it. My eyes were blinded by my own pain. So blinded that I hurt you both so deeply that I can't ever repair our relationship. You both deserved better. I know this. I also know that I can't fix it. But understand that I'll go to my death regretting the decision I made. I want your forgiveness. These past few years, losing you both. It's been a pain I can't describe."
Naerys forced herself to her feet. "He's all I've ever wanted father. Just the one thing. One simple thing. It was all either of us had ever asked of you. We'd done our best to be good children to you, respectful and an honor to you. But you didn't seem to care that all we ever wanted in return was to be together."
Viserys only nodded.
"He loved me father. With all his heart, and the whole realm had to watch him weep. People pitied him that day. He'll never forgive you for that. Ever since he's been convinced he has to regain his honor in everyone's eyes. I told him nobody thinks any less of him but he refuses to believe me. My words don't hold the weight that they once did. And at the most awful of times, the time he needs love and comfort most I'm not in the position to give it to him. I've told him that it took bravery to do what he did, to stand there and take all the abuse Aegon threw at him. It took a real man to do that father. But he thinks drawing his sword made him weak. Aegon broke something in him that day, something that I'll never be able to fix. And for that I can never forgive you. Our love wasn't enough for you. Aegon has had many loves, and no doubt he'll have many more. We've both only had one, and you denied us."
Viserys only nodded. "I know. I'm sorry," he said. His voice was so soft Naerys could hear that he was finally broken. Consequences had finally sunk into his brain it seemed. Naerys wanted to enjoy the moment. Gloat on her victory but now was not the time. Aemon was hurt. And she couldn't imagine her life without him.
"I want to see him father," she said sternly.
"He'll need care. Care that he wouldn't be comfortable receiving from anyone else. I'm going to send your husband back to Dorne, with Aemon hurt his Grace will need more trusted advisors."
Naerys almost scoffed. She doubted King Daeron trusted Aegon or heeded his advice. "Well I shall pray for his safety."
Viserys nodded again but didn't bother speaking. There was nothing left to say.
Prince Aemon 161AC
Another King had died and Aemon began to wonder what he'd done to deserve such a horrible reputation. The realm had surely heard the news by now. The King, a large part of the army and three members of the Kingsguard slain. A fourth brother, surrendered and deserted. Aemon refused to speak his name, his false brother. The man who hit him from behind with the hilt of his sword, knocking him unconscious and putting him out of the fight.
Aemon hated his former brother for that. At least if he'd been awake he'd have been given a proper warriors death. Instead he'd been chained up in a dungeon, beaten, tortured, starved, stripped naked, and eventually placed naked in a cage and suspended over a pit of vipers for the entire world to see.
Aemon had wished he was dead several times during his capture. Being a prisoner was hard but being the prisoner of a region that absolutely hated you was another thing entirely. He'd been subjected to things no man should ever be subjected to and he'd done his best to stay strong and proud. If he died here, Naerys would surely hear the story and it was important to him that she knew in the end he'd been brave. He'd been brave and they'd never broken him. It wouldn't give her peace but it may make her understand that he wasn't a coward.
Instead of dying with his King with his sword in hand he'd been captured. His capture had only been that much more horrible because he'd killed two of the assassins and gravely wounded several more. He could still hear Lord Blackmont's screams when he severed the man's arm from his body. The man didn't die, but he was sure to pass from the wound unless his maester worked miracles. Aemon was sure his heir would run him through with a sword but the boy didn't seem to respond at all. None of the Dornishmen had in fact. None but the Wyls.
Aemon could still smell the stench of Lord Wyl's breath as he leaned into him and swore to kill him slowly. Aemon hadn't responded, hadn't spoken, but Lord Wyl didn't seem to care. He took pleasure in the threats and when the torture started the man was the first to unsheathe his knife. He'd taken pleasure in Aemon's screams and had assured everyone that eventually Aemon would break. Aemon had held out as long as he could and Lord Martell had eventually ended his suffering. Afterwards he'd been stripped naked and put in the cage.
The new King, Baelor, King Daeron's younger brother had shown up to rescue him. Lord Wyl had agreed to his freedom but King Baelor had to release him from the cage himself. Lord Wyl gave the King the key but Aemon had begged the King to let him die. He'd be more than honored to die for his King, it was his duty as a Kingsguard. Baelor hadn't listened however and had walked across the pit of vipers to free him. He'd been bitten, often enough that that he'd nearly collapsed before he made it to Aemon with the key.
After his release Aemon had carried the King to House Dondarrion where they'd both spent some time recuperating. It was there he'd relayed the tale of the ambush for the first time. He'd admitted straight away that he'd failed his king, no Kingsguard should ever live while his King died in battle. That much was true about the Kingsguard, which was one truth that everyone knew. His brave brothers had died in battle right beside their king, where they belonged. Yet here he was, living breathing, serving another king. He considered it a failure and was quick to tell Lord Dondarrion so.
He considered the horror that would be awaiting him back in Kings Landing. Children would probably throw rocks at him in the streets. Men would burn his effigy in disgust. Naerys, sweet Naerys would look at him with the same pity she had after the wedding. Or Gods forgive, ignore him completely like she had during the wedding itself. The thought made him sick and again he wished that the Gods would put him out of his misery. If he were lucky for once in his life he'd get his wish, a night's sleep could easily turn into a permanent one. He laughed, he'd never been so lucky. His survival was all but assured and he was sure to make it to King's Landing in one piece to face his shame. He sighed as he closed his violet eyes. Maybe the Gods would bless him with dreams of his lady love Naerys. In his dreams she'd always love him and they were married with children of their own. Aegon was gone away, far away and happy, never to return. In his dreams all was right in the world. In his dreams he was the man everyone wanted him to be.
Queen Naerys 175AC:
Naerys could hear the words in her head every time silence overtook the room. "Recant your slanders now Ser, or meet the Gods and explain yourself to them."
The words were harsh but mainly because Aemon was a man of few words. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard didn't say much these days but when he did speak the entire realm listened. The day Ser Morgil Hastwyck told the entire court that she'd been unfaithful she felt as if the world was falling apart. Aegon, now King Aegon, had paraded his mistresses through the Red Keep for years and nobody had ever spoken an ill word about it. Now one knight from a lowly house makes one accusation against her and the entire court gives her the cold shoulder. She couldn't help but smile when she remembered how Aemon had cut him down with relative ease. She could see the look on everyone's face when Morgil's eyes bulged wide from his head. There was a second when he knew he was dying and he looked up to his king with horror. Aegon, did nothing. In that moment she knew Morgil was his agent, a knight who was foolishly only doing his king's bidding.
Aegon didn't react at all to Morgil's death. His dying was seemingly only an inconvenience to her husband. Why he'd want to slander her now, after all these years of being married to one another was a mystery but it was now clear to everyone that the King wished her ill will.
After the trial by combat Aemon had bent his knee before her and apologized for her suffering. If I could protect your delicate ears from the horrors of the world I would, he'd said. Since I can't do that I'll have the tongue of any man who sullies your name with slanders.
The moment had made her heart melt and she could see her husband glare from the corner of her eye. She'd heard everyone in King's Landing had been talking about it. The trail by combat had become famous since then and everyone in the Kingdom had begun calling Aemon 'The Dragonknight'. It was a name fit for only a Targaryen, like Aegon the Conqueror, or Daeron the Young Dragon, the sort of name that all of Westeros would remember forever.
A moon ago she'd been sent a raven from her old friend Lyssa Hasty, formerly Musgood, who had told her that she'd heard a song written about the tourney at the Hasty family castle. The song was beautiful she'd been told, but sad because in the end the brave Dragonknight didn't live happily ever after with his Queen Naerys. According to Lyssa half the realm would have heard the song by now and even more would have heard the story. On some level Naerys thought she should be ashamed but on some primal level she was proud. Proud that even though she had a husband who hated her, there was one man out there who would champion her. A man who loved her without hesitation, who would stand against any who bore her ill will. The knowledge made her proud, made her strong.
Of course the realm was still whispering about the unquestioned love they bore for one another, but now, no man would dare speak those words without fear of reprisals from her brave Dragonknight. Everyone knew that those words carried consequences. Sure the whispers would continue but now they would persist behind closed doors. And after Aemon handily defeated Morgil Hardwyck the Gods had deemed her innocent.
She'd wanted to thank Aemon with a warm embrace and gentle kiss on the cheek but she knew such a gesture would only make things harder for them both. They hadn't so much as brushed hands in years, breaking that long streak seemed a bad idea. A touch was only a touch but a soft kiss, even on the cheek, meant more. Especially for the two of them. Instead she offered him a smile and he'd smiled in return. It wasn't much but it was all they had. It would have to suffice.
Prince Aemon 181AC
Aemon looked up at the steps he'd run up and down as a boy. The same steps he'd carried his sister up when she'd been too weak to climb. He longed for those days. The days he'd scoop her up in his arms and make her feel safe. He'd missed those days.
Ser Terrence Toyne's eldest brother Manfred's breath escaped raggedly from his chest while his brother Gared lay quietly where Aemon had cut him down. The men had come out of nowhere, their swords swift and deadly, as sharp as the curses they'd hurled at his brother. Aemon wasn't even sure they'd expected to survive the attack. Their chief concern seemed to be the death of the King, their plan past accomplishing their mission was likely nonexistent.
Aemon was confident the world likely would have been better off if he'd let them kill King Aegon. His brother was many things, a liar, a brute, a letch, but despite all that he was still The King, and Aemon had made a vow to give his life for the King, be that king worthy or unworthy.
His lungs began to burn as he did his best to breath in air, while heavy wet coughs escaped his mouth. He should have died in Dorne with King Daeron. That would have been a fitting death, in battle with his sword in hand with a King any man would have been proud to serve. Instead he was dying in an old walkway after defending a King whose own cruelty had brought down two brother's wrath. In all the scenarios he'd envisioned of his death, he'd never considered this one. The brothers' attack was crazed and vengeful, coordinated and fast, but his skill with a sword had allowed him to quickly cut Gared down while he lunged for Aegon. The move had saved Aegon's life but it had cost him his own. Manfred had attacked him from the rear thrusting his sword cleanly into Aemon's side. A few quick thrusts had cut the man down but he'd already done his damage.
His heavy breaths began to feel even more labored as he heard footsteps in the distance. Aegon was screaming 'assassins' from someplace seemingly far away, and Aemon knew he'd at least saved his brother's life. Naerys didn't have much warmth for the man but he would never want to see her widowed. Her son, Daeron was a good lad and he wouldn't be the reason the boy would grow up without a father.
A few wet coughs escaped his mouth again followed by a surge of sharp pain that made him gasp. In the distance someone called out to him.
"Naerys," he tried to say. "Tell Naerys, I'm sorry."
"Lord Commander," someone called out to him.
Aemon didn't recognize the voice, it was too far away, too faint. He opened his mouth to answer but the pain returned and everything around him was enveloped in darkness.
Queen Naerys:
Naerys knew something was wrong the moment she saw her son Daeron burst into the room. The look in his eyes told her something was horribly wrong but when she saw the redness in his eyes, the sadness, she wanted to die.
"Mother," he said softly. There were a half a dozen women in the room, his sister Princess Daenerys, and a host of elderly ladies in waiting among them. All eyes shifted to him as he spoke and Naerys felt her heartbeat quicken.
"Something has happened," he said as he made his way over to her. He dropped down to his knees and met her face level, his violet eyes damp and red.
"What," she forced herself to say. "Is it your father?"
Daeron shook his head slowly. "Two men. Brothers of Ser Terrene Toyne, attacked father to avenge their brother's death. The Lord Commander was with him at the time. He fought them both off, killed them both and saved father's life." He shook his head with sadness. "I'm sorry but he gave his life in the fight. He's gone mother, he's dead." The women in the room gasped with shock.
Naerys shook her head defiantly. "No. That's not true. It's another of your father's lies." Daeron grabbed her hands and clasped them tightly in his own.
"Yes. It's true mother. I've seen him with my own eyes. He's gone."
Across the room Daenerys began to cry. Naerys felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Aemon couldn't be dead. He was a knight. Brave, strong, a fighter feared by all. He was the Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd. He was her Dragonknight.
"No," she said again before shaking her head. "I don't believe it. It's some sort of cruel jape concocted by your father to torture me." She said the words but she could feel the tears sliding gently down her cheeks. The sorrowful look of pain in her son's face made her heart break.
"I'm so sorry mother," he said. She could tell that he wished to say more but she knew he never would. Nobody ever did. Nobody spoke to her about Aemon anymore. Still in her son's eyes she saw a pity she had never seen before.
"What," she started to say. "How…Who…" She tried her best to gather her courage but she couldn't formulate a coherent thought.
Daeron had started speaking again but she didn't manage to hear anything he said. Her thoughts were of Aemon. He couldn't be gone. He couldn't leave her here alone with Aegon. He'd promised her once that he'd always be there to protect her. He'd slew a man in a trial by combat for questioning her honor. He'd even donned a disguise and entered a tourney to proclaim her Queen of Love and Beauty, over one of Aegon's mistresses. He had always been her champion. Her entire life he'd been there to protect her, now he was gone. She couldn't bear the thought of it.
"I need to see him," she said firmly.
"Mother," Daeron contested.
"I need to see that he's being cared for. He's my brother. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He wielded the blade of Visenya Targaryen herself. He's a hero and I need to make sure he's been treated as such."
She rose to her feet but Daeron didn't bother to move out of her way. "Mother allow me to see to this honor for you. I swear to you as a son that I'll make sure he's given the best of care."
Naerys looked at him and considered protesting. The tears steadily streamed down her face and suddenly she was aware that every eye in the room was upon her. Sad, pitiful eyes. Aemon would be strong now. Especially now.
"Fine," she said with a nod. "First see me to my room. I wish to be alone."
Prince Daeron:
It was obvious to anyone who bothered to notice that the light had gone out in his mother's eyes the moment he'd told her that her brother, Lord Commander Aemon Targaryen, was dead. In that moment all the hope, optimism, and joy had left her and Daeron feared it had gone for good.
All his life he'd heard the stories about his mother and her brother. Daeron had heard how his uncle had cried on her wedding day. He'd heard the whispers about how he'd gone to his father and pleaded with the man to reconsider only to be rebuffed coldly and told to harden his heart and move past it. Aemon had in fact done just that, he hadn't ever spoken to his father again. The man had become King and elevated his son to the position of Lord Commander of the King's Guard but nothing would atone for his cold dismissal of his son's feelings.
Despite the death of his only brother and a man of great importance to the realm, at least in title, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and a man who'd died saving his life, King Aegon hadn't done anything to celebrate his brother's life and passing. In fact he hadn't mentioned the man's death at all. When Daeron mentioned a funeral the King had rudely shot down the idea, insisting the people only cared that their king had lived, not that his bodyguard had gotten himself killed. The words had made the entire small council cringe, but as usual nobody had made an effort to speak up against them.
Ironically, the people, who the King insisted loved him so much, had in fact insisted on a funeral. The Lord Commander was loved, feared, and respected all throughout Westeros and when news of his death began to spread the Queen had been sent condolences from Dorne to the Wall. The Smallfolk all through King's Landing had seemingly gone into mourning as a result, refuting the King's words for all to see.
The King, to his credit, stayed silent. However Daeron doubted this was out of respect. His rude assessment that Prince Aemon had gotten himself killed had rubbed the entire court the wrong way. The small council had stayed silent in the moment but the whispers were suddenly at a fever pitch. Questioning the honor, bravery, and skill of his brother had made even his most sycophantic supporters uneasy. Prince Aemon, The Dragonknight, was beloved by the smallfolk in Westeros. Speaking ill of him was folly, questioning his skill with arms was simply disrespectful. Especially since he'd been ambushed in a blitz attack yet had still killed both attackers before meeting his fate. The fact that he died protecting a King and a brother who took every turn to humiliate him only made him more sympathetic. In the ale houses of King's Landing rumors had even begun to spread that the King had forced his brother to stand guard for him while he sullied his sister's honor with whores. Even worse it was said that he was coming from one of these trysts when he'd been attacked. Add in the fact that he'd attempted to deny his brother a funeral afterwards and the smallfolk had began calling his father Aegon the Unworthy, as in the Aegon who was unfit to wear the crown.
On the other hand Daeron had always loved his uncle Aemon. He was everything a boy would want in a father, strong, brave, beloved, and extremely protective of his sister and Queen. Daeron had noticed the way they looked at each other rather early in life. Adoring and with a longing that was impossible to miss. The entire court whispered about them behind their back but it was always with the utmost respect, and edged with sadness and pity. They were madly in love with each other, the entire realm knew that, but in the end they were destined to never act on that love. The story often made him sad. If ever two people deserved a bit of happiness it was his mother and Prince Aemon. He offered his uncle a respectful nod then turned to the silent sisters waiting quietly in the wings.
"The Queen wants him treated with the utmost care and respect."
The women only nodded, if they could speak they would have likely given him a rehearsed speech of some kind. They were professionals, they treated everyone with respect and the utmost care. He knew that but he still felt it needed to be said. For his mother's sake. He smiled a response and turned on his heels to exit.
"I'll bring him new armor and a fresh white cloak for the funeral. The Queen appreciates everything you can do for him sisters. He was much loved."
Queen Naerys:
"When Aemon was alive nobody would dare smear my honor. He would cut them down with his sword without blinking an eye. Last week I heard that people were implying that Daeron isn't Aegon's son, but actually Aemon's," Naerys shook her head with sadness. "An adulteress. That's what they think of me now. As an adulteress."
Her eldest friend Lyssa shook her head with defiance. Lyssa had made the trip to King's Landing from her home in the Stormlands to offer her sympathy and moral support in person. It had been so good to see her, but Aegon had ruined it when he'd become suggestive with Lyssa's still unflowered daughter, and her own namesake, Naerys Hasty. Naerys hadn't been surprised when Lyssa broke the sad news that one of her sons was ill and she'd have to return to the Stormlands immediately. Naerys knew it was likely false, but she hadn't expected her to stay and risk having her daughter defiled by the King.
"Nobody believes that nonsense your Grace. Prince Aemon would never dishonor you, everyone in King's Landing says so." Lyssa said the words with such conviction that Naerys wanted to believe her.
"I've never told anyone this, but before the wedding I offered to run away with him. Across the Narrow Sea. He told me then that he wouldn't see me dishonored. It was that day that I knew I loved him. I was pretty sure of it growing up, I mean I couldn't tell if it was normal big brother idolization or something else. But that day when he chose my honor over our happiness I knew I loved him. Now, I think we should have gone. Run away together and made a life, started a family. My honor is being questioned anyway and it was all for nothing."
Lyssa frowned. "Nobody is questioning your honor. Those are just kitchen lies and gossip."
Naerys nodded. "I keep expecting him to show up to breakfast every morning. The day he died he told me he wished to tell me something. Something that he promised himself that he would never say, but he couldn't go another day without me knowing. He asked me to have dinner with him that night. We always had breakfast together, but never dinner. He said it wouldn't look proper. I was so excited because I knew in my heart what he was going to tell me. In all those years he'd never actually said it. Neither of us had. So many times I wanted to but I held myself back out of fear, or duty, I'm not even sure anymore. Three little words. I love you. It would have been so easy to say it. Now I'll never get the opportunity. He may not have known how much I loved him."
Lyssa shook her head. "Don't be silly Your Grace. Of course he knew. He proclaimed you Queen of Love and Beauty, for all the six kingdoms to see."
Naerys almost gasped. She had never told anyone that her champion that day was Aemon. The King had forbidden Aemon from participating in the Tournament, likely because he knew Aemon would win. The King had hoped to proclaim his mistress Queen of Love and Beauty, but Aemon had defied him. He'd donned pieces of makeshift armor and dubbed himself the Knight of Tears. When he'd won and given her a crown of roses it had been one of the best moments of her life. She'd felt so loved that day that she'd wanted to seek Aemon out in the night and for once share his bed. She didn't of course, Aemon being Aemon he'd have refused on principle. She was a married woman after all. Instead, her husband Aegon had come to her bed to exercise his 'rights'. She'd suffered through it, not allowing his petty jealousy to ruin her day.
"How," she stammered. "Does everyone know it was him?"
Lyssa nodded. "Everyone knows. But it's okay Your Grace. We all know how much he loved you. With all his heart. So much that he'd defy the King's orders so you wouldn't be slighted for his mistress."
Naerys nodded. "I miss him. I'm afraid that if I close my eyes too many nights I'll eventually forget what he looked like. Every time I go to bed I picture him in my mind so I don't forget but then Aegon comes and I cry. Even on the day Aemon died he wouldn't give me peace. Even then he came to my bed." She finally let her head face the concrete before resting it on her friend's shoulder. "I just want it to be over. If Aemon isn't here I can't bear to be here anymore. The Maester told me when I had Daenerys that I wouldn't survive another pregnancy. He's secretly been slipping me moon tea ever since when I get pregnant. I just found out a week ago that I'm pregnant again. I'm not going to take it this time. I'll suffer through the pregnancy and the Maiden will spare me any further pain in this world. I'm ready for it to be over."
Lyssa held Naerys hands tight in her own and stroked them gently. "I understand Your Grace. You've suffered enough. Your secret will die with me, I swear it."
"You're a good friend Lyssa. The only one I have left I fear. Those rumors about me and Prince Aemon grow louder every day."
"Everyone knows they aren't true," Lyssa assured her once again.
"The longer a lie is told the more people will believe it. A hundred years from now, nobody will know or care if it's true. I fear that the most. That people will only remember me as an adulteress and him as the Kingsguard who broke his vows with the Queen. I pray to the Warrior every day that he's remembered for the good man and knight that he was. I pray that nobody believes these lies about us. But I prayed when I was a girl that we'd be allowed to be together one day. As husband and wife, happy, with a family of our own. It never came to pass, and I learned then that the Gods don't answer our prayers."
Lyssa sighed. "Maybe they will. Maybe you'll get to be together on the other side."
Naerys laughed lightly. "Yeah, and maybe one day my great great great grandchild will slay a white walker beyond the wall and save the world."
Lyssa only laughed. "On the back of a dragon!"
Naerys allowed herself to laugh for the first time in what felt like ages. "At least that would make it all worth it. Maybe my unhappiness is the price we all pay for saving the world. If Daeron is a good King, at least something positive will come out of this."
"Daeron is a good prince, he'll make an even better King. He'll make you proud."
Naerys only nodded. "I know he will. People will forget me, history will barely remember me. But HIM, he'll be a King they'll talk about for ages. A great King, one who'll bring peace to Westeros for the first time in ages."
Lyssa stroked her hands. "That's worth a few tears I guess."
"Surely it is," Naerys agreed.
King Daeron II 188AC
The crown weighed heavily on a man's head but days like today were incredibly hard. Daeron had watched with sadness as his mother suffered through a loveless marriage. The man she'd wanted to spend her life with was always nearby but marriage and vows had still kept him far away from her. Daeron had grown up knowing she'd wanted nothing more than to be with her brother Aemon, but they'd been denied one another and he'd watched his mother's unhappiness his entire life. He'd refused to do that to a woman he loved, so today was important in righting the sins of the past.
"I need you to search your feelings sister. Search your feelings and decide how much you love our half-brother Daemon. I know you love him, so if you can look me in the eyes and say that HE is the man for you. That you'll love him in twenty name days just as much as you love him now I'll insist that from this day forward he calls himself Daemon Targaryen instead of Daemon Blackfyre and I'll see you wed. But if not, this realm can be complete. We can do with this marriage something our ancestors have been attempting to do since Queen Rhaenys died at the Hell Holt. We can unite this kingdom, turn six into seven and complete The Conqueror's work."
Princess Daenerys ran her slim fingers through her long silver hair, her violet eyes shining in the warm summer sun. She'd grown up to be beautiful and didn't lack for suitors but King Daeron could see how much she cared for their bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre. He thought the young man beneath her but he refused to see her live her life as unhappy as their mother had been. Queen Naerys had gone to her grave miserable. She'd died less than a year after the Dragonknight, in childbirth, finally putting an end to her suffering. Daeron had her body cremated, as per Targaryen custom, but unlike normal customs he'd had a large dragon shaped urn made and mixed her ashes with her brother Aemon's ashes. His father had made a stink but he'd been the only one. He'd gotten to torture Naerys in life but Daeron refused to make the woman spend her death with him. Naerys and Aemon couldn't be together in life but in death they would always be together. Their ashes unified, sealed and resting together as one. For eternity. It was all he could give her, but Daenerys had cried through it all along with half the women in attendance. Seeing her tears he vowed never to put a woman through what his mother had been forced to endure.
"If you choose Daemon I will accept that. There will be no consequences from me. I will wish you many strong sons and peace. It's up to you to decide sister. I won't see you suffer the way mother did."
Daenerys only nodded. "I love Daemon brother, but first and foremost I am a Targaryen. The kingdom means more to me than my feelings. Our mother loved our uncle Aemon but she married father because it was what the family required of her. She was unhappy and was made to suffer but she did her part for the family. I don't think I'll be nearly as unhappy in Dorne. Command me and I'll do my part to unify the seven kingdoms."
King Daeron nodded and rose to his feet. "Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen, it is in the best interest of the realm that you marry the brother of the Queen, Prince Maron Martell of Dorne."
Daenerys only nodded. "Yes your Grace."
"I'll see that our brother Daemon learns of my COMMAND," he said firmly.
"That's not necessary your Grace. I can tell him it was MY decision."
Daeron only waved the comment aside. "No need. Best he hate only one of us rather than both of us. He'll go to his grave with fond memories of you. As he should." His sister finally allowed herself to smile.