Storm's End 2 BC.

Orys Baratheon.

There had been but few times he'd felt as angered as he had when he'd seen how they'd treated her. An enemy she may be, but she was a lady, had been a princess and even a queen, and she deserved to be treated as such. Had it not been for the flag of truce and parley that the men who'd brought her to their camp had done so under, then Orys may have taken their heads there and then. Instead, it had been to her that he'd looked and sought to offer some respite to. His cloak and his words were both far softer than the treatment she'd received by men who'd sworn and then broken oaths to her.

After he'd helped her into their tent, Rhaenys had joined them and Orys left it to her to see to Argella's wellbeing. He'd then taken to sparring with some of his men to alleviate the anger he felt and he was glad to do so. The two dishonorable fools, who it seemed had led the insurrection against her, had been warned by his men to seek him not and so he was able to calm himself far more quickly than he would have been had they ignored the warnings. Once he was done, he made his way back to their command tent and found both Rhaenys and Argella to be speaking to each other in a friendly manner.

"Ah, Lord Orys. Lady Argella wished to thank you for your actions and concern." Rhaenys said when she looked his way, Orys noticing how she almost seemed on the verge of smirking and he wondered just what the two had been speaking on.

"It was a shameful act, your grace. My lady," he said offering a bow of his head to first his queen and then Lady Argella.

"We march for Storm's End, Lord Orys. There is much we need to discuss once we are settled in the keep." Rhaenys said and he nodded, glanced at the dark-haired Argella to find her blue eyes seemed concentrated on his face, and then turned and walked from the tent.

A little over two hours later, they'd officially taken over the keep, and Storm's End and the Stormlands were now theirs. At Rhaenys' behest, he made his way to the rookery and a raven was soon sent bearing two messages for Aegon and Visenya. The first was written in his own hand and was a simple enough statement. It declared their victory and the death of King Argillac Durrandon and named Storm's End, to be under their command. The second was written by Rhaenys and was for Aegon and Aegon alone, its contents were something that he wasn't privy to nor had any wish to be.

Both he and his queen hoped to receive a raven in return that bore news of Aegon's own and Visenya and Aemon's victories. Though given they were sending theirs to Dragonstone first, it may take longer than they'd wish for such news to arrive. Orys had no doubt in his mind that both his brother by choice and Visenya and Aemon would win their own fights easily. Aegon was formidable and the Black Dread was unmatched. While Aemon had shown both an ability to think politically and practically many times during this campaign already. He held no doubts over Visenya's mettle either, both she and Vhagar would be just as Rhaenys had been, unstoppable.

With the raven sent, he set about making sure that the keep was secured by their men. Once he was satisfied that it was, then and only then that he made his way to speak to Rhaenys. His queen was alone and he was surprised that it was in rooms that had once belonged to King Argillac, that he'd been directed to. Argella was nowhere to be seen and he both welcomed her absence and very much did not at the same time. Taking the glass of wine that was offered, he took his seat and readied to hear just how much of their original plans they'd still be following. Orys found that his throat felt drier than it normally did as he waited for Rhaenys to speak.

"Did you kill them?" Rhaenys asked and he snorted and then chuckled before answering.

"No, they breathe still."

"Good, we should leave it to the lady herself to judge them both," Rhaenys said amusedly.

"She is to remain as a lady then?"

"What do you think of her?" Rhaenys asked not answering his question.

"I…"

"Orys?"

"She seems to have a strength about her. A quiet sort of strength. How she held up after being shamed so, it would break some, but she held her dignity despite it all."

"She did."

"I think she'll be Leal and true, now she knows that we seek not her death," he said before taking a large swallow of wine from his glass, the words he had almost spoken were still on the tip of his tongue and he feared loosing them.

"What do you think of her, as a woman, Orys?" Rhaenys asked and Orys believed he may have blushed somewhat. He was almost certain of it given the amused look on Rhaenys' face.

"You can't be…"

"Leal and true she may be, but Aegon always wished for you to rule these lands. I think together you could do great things, but I'll not see you forced into something you would take no comfort in. So, speak to me not as commander of my brother's, sister, and mine own armies, but as a man I consider a brother in all but name."

He emptied his glass and then refilled it, taking another swallow from it before he felt ready to speak.

"I killed her father, Rhaenys. A match between us is not something that can occur after that."

"And if the lady herself showed no such concerns?" Rhaenys surprised him.

"Then it would be a match I'd welcome," he said after a few moment's pause.

"Good, then I'll leave you here to see that it's done when I fly back to meet up with Aegon, Visenya, and Aemon. You're not to wed her without us, Orys, neither I, my sister nor my brother would forgive you for such." Rhaenys said chidingly and Orys despite the nervousness he felt at her words, chuckled in response.

"No, not without your presence, your grace." he said as he rose to his feet "Now, by your leave, I'll go and speak to the lady in question."

"You'll find her on the parapets awaiting the outcome of our conversation most eagerly." Rhaenys said and he looked at her almost in disbelief "Oh, poor Orys, you have so far to go to understand a woman's heart."

"Some things are never to be truly understood, your grace," he said and he could still hear Rhaenys' laughter as he left he room and walked to the stairs that led to the parapets and to the woman that would become his wife.

Seeing her again, took his breath away. He'd thought her to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen when he'd covered her with his cloak. Despite the ignominy of being dragged naked before them, she had borne it with dignity and grace that marked her out above most other women he'd ever known. Though compared to now, that was like night and day. For now, she looked like someone that only the gods could have allowed to be brought into this world.

Her dark hair was loose and it flowed in the wind as she looked down on the Stormlands below. She still wore his cloak and yet it was worn loose and so it too swayed in the breeze that was blowing. When she turned and faced him, her eyes were like two bright shining orbs. As blue as the sky on its brightest day or the sea when the sun reflected off its waters. To have those eyes look at him how they now were doing, was something that almost stilled his heart, and as he moved towards her, he felt himself long to see those eyes for the rest of his days.

"Lord Orys," Argella said somewhat breaking the spell.

"Just Orys, my lady."

"Argella," she replied as she smiled at him, and once again he felt the need to take a breath and compose himself in her presence.

"You are well, Argella?" he asked and felt a fool for doing so.

"Far better now than earlier." she smiled "I thank you again for your chivalry and concern."

"Those so-called knights deserve the harshest punishment." he declared firmly.

"In time, mayhap. You've spoken to the queen?" she asked and he nodded "And your thoughts on her proposal?"

"I…" he began and he saw her expression falter "I would be most honored to name you as my wife, Argella. Though I'd not wish it was it something you felt forced into."

"I am being forced into it, Orys. Of that there can be no doubt, but….had it been a different day or different outcome to the battle, or had the negotiations between my father and King Aegon gone in a different way, then I'd have been forced into a different match, would I not?"

"I'd not thought of…."

"So I would welcome the match if it would be something that you welcome too."

"It would, Argella, I believe it would."

They spoke then on the practicalities of their match and what it meant for the Stormlands in the years to come. When he said that he'd wish her to rule as much as he and that it was not some shrinking violet that he saw her as. He was then rewarded with one of her truer smiles and resolved to see many more of those in the years to come. When word turned to her father's death, he saw the brief glimpse of anger at his words that it had been he who'd struck the fatal blow. Though the anger was muted and he was certain then that Rhaenys had spoken on this before he'd had a chance to do so.

Later that night, it was announced in the Great Hall that he and Argella were to wed and that he would be the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands and the new Lord of Storm's End. They feasted somewhat, celebrated and while Argella spoke to Rhaenys as much as she did to him, their own talk was relaxed and comfortable. At the end of the night, he escorted her from the hall and when he brought her to the dungeons, she looked at him worriedly. Leaning in to whisper in her ear, he smelt her scent and breathed it in deeply. Then he opened the door to the cell and listened to her speak to the two men who were bound and chained inside.

"Ser Richard, Ser Robert, you both seem to have lost your clothes," Argella said and Orys smirked as he stared at her face while she looked at the two errant nights, it was a look that he'd come to enjoy seeing more and more in the years to come.

Moat Cailin 2 BC.

Jojen Reed.

While he'd hoped to never see the White Wolf in his lifetime, he found that he'd much enjoyed the brief time he'd spent with Aemon Targaryen. Firstly the knowledge that he was not some portent of approaching doom had been the reason for that. Jojen felt incredibly relieved that it was not to be now that the battle for the ages was to be fought. Then it was upon hearing of his descendants, of the role they'd played in seeing the White Wolf rise and the regard they were held in by the Old God's chosen one.

Even after hearing Aemon speak of the loss of all that he held dear, of the scale of his defeat and the fall of all men, Jojen still found that he enjoyed speaking to the young man. There was an air of something about him that marked him out as different from anyone he'd ever met, an air that was not simply based on knowing who he was and where he was from, but one that came from the man himself. Before meeting him, had anyone asked Jojen who the most impressive person he'd ever known was, then he'd have named either Brandon Snow or Torrhen Stark so without a moment's hesitation. Now, he'd name that person Aemon Targaryen and he found he looked forward to the spars and negotiations to come.

At the feast, just as he, Torrhen, and Brandon Snow had expected, Aemon had been challenged by the men of the North. He'd easily swatted away those challenges and had done so as a true son of the North and not as the Southern Princeling that some had named him. Be it in drinking down an ale as quick as any man, in wrestling one of Beric Umber's sons to the ground when a match was called for, or even in singing songs of the North that one and all recognized and despite their doubts, had sung along with.

He'd named each and every place in the North that he'd been to and other than Brandon Snow, Jojen doubted there was a man in the hall that night who'd traveled so extensively. Surprisingly to both him and Torrhen, even despite the fact of being from another time, it seemed the North had changed little from now to then. Other than Moat Cailin that was and Jojen had listened in disbelief as Aemon had spoken of the ruin it would one day become. Had he not been alone when doing so, then he was certain that men would have named him a liar and a fool, or mayhap even mad. As of now, it was only he, Brandon, and Torrhen who knew the full truth of who Aemon Targaryen claimed to be. Who he was, for Jojen had no doubt that the words he spoke were true.

"In my time, this is a shadow of what it is now. That tower there we name the Drunkard's Tower as it leans so far that it seems almost ready to collapse. The Children's Tower has no crown in my time and it's only the Gatehouse that is truly worthy of being named a tower at all." Aemon said as he pointed out the three towers he named by names that Jojen had not heard before.

"How did it come to be so? The Moat is the key to the North is it not?" he asked, wondering if something had changed that removed its importance.

"Aye, but time makes fools of us all and what we once knew is eventually forgotten." Aemon said sadly "I was named king here. My brother placed a crown upon my head and named me his king from that day until his last day. By the Old Gods if I'd known how soon that last day was to come I'd have cherished each moment with him far more than I did."

"He died?" he asked though it was truly a stupid question.

"They all died, Lord Reed. All but me, for that, was my curse you see. I failed the Old Gods and they cursed me for years…..I thought they'd curse me until my last day."

"Now you don't?"

"I am here and I've been given a second chance, it's not one I intend to waste."

He'd watched him as he walked to his rooms, the white wolf walking silently by his side. Never had he seen someone so young bear such a weight and it was not one that Jojen envied him for. His own night's sleep had been filled with dreams that showed him even more of the truth of Aemon Targaryen. A crowning, just as he'd named it and done by a man bearing Stark sigils and yet one who looked nothing like the Starks that Jojen knew. He'd seen the Lords and Ladies of the North cheer and name Aemon Targaryen as the King in the North and had seen a man look his way that may as well have been his twin.

Jojen had watched as a wedding took place and as Aemon held first a girl and then a boy in his arms. Then to his horror, he'd watched as from atop the Green Dragon, Aemon failed to reach them when they met their ends. He'd found himself walking in a grove filled with Weirwoods, the wind blowing the leaves from side to side and the sound of them was almost like the voices of children to his ears. Voices that named Aemon as true and bid him serve him as he would them. Voices that named him as their servant just as Aemon was. Voices that spoke one sentence and one sentence was all he truly remembered when he woke the next morning.

"What we do in life, echoes in eternity," Jojen said softly as below him the spar began.

Aemon beat two guards almost without breaking a sweat. He then faced off against one of Harrion Karstark's sons and while it was a harder match than the first two, the result was the same. When Beric Umber stepped forward, Jojen looked to his king who was watching impassively. Around the yard, this was certainly not the case, however, as more and more wagers were made and the fight began. Again the result wasn't truly in question and Jojen felt that Aemon was fighting well within himself. Something he'd not be doing in the next fight as once Beric was beaten, Torrhen nodded to his brother.

"Let's see how he does against, Brandon," Torrhen whispered under his breath.

"Brandon."

"Brandon."

"The Wild Wolf."

The chants went around the yard and Jojen saw Torrhen move closer to the rail as the spar began. Brandon was without a doubt the best sword in the North, the fiercest fighter by some distance, and it was clear that even despite his earlier victories, not one man in the yard gave Aemon a slim chance of winning. They were wrong not to do so and finally, Jojen, Torrhen, and the men of the North were treated to Aemon fighting for true.

He somewhat toyed with Brandon, easily dodging his attacks and yet holding back and not landing any of his own, not even when the opportunity to do so arose. It was as if he was stretching this out and though he'd fought four men already, it was Brandon who was breathing heavily and not Aemon. At some point during the fight, something seemed to change and Aemon began to move even more quickly than he had up to then. His blows began to land and Jojen was not alone in wincing as one or the other crashed against Brandon's forearm or leg. Then with a side step, a spin that resulted in no blow being aimed, Aemon was behind Brandon and with a sweep of his leg, Brandon hit the ground.

"Yield," Aemon said, and to utter silence, Brandon Snow yielded and was then helped back to his feet.

"I've seen enough. Arrange a meeting in the Great Hall." Torrhen said before walking away and with a nod to Aemon, Jojen made his way down the stairs and called out his king's orders.

"The king wishes to speak to us in the great hall, it's time to find out what offer Prince Aemon brings us and what terms he offers," Jojen said loudly as one and all began to turn and walk away from the yard.

It left him alone with Aemon and he found his eyes drawn to the sky when Aemon's were. The Green Dragon flew overhead and turning to look from it to the man in front of him, Jojen saw the warm smile that Aemon wore on his face. A moment later, the White Wolf, Ghost as Aemon had named him, was by its master's side and the Green Dragon had flown off to only the Old Gods knew where. With a nod to Aemon, they walked to the Great Hall and Jojen felt the need to speak as they did so.

"I've seen the truth of things, Aemon. A gift or curse from the Old Gods, name it as you will. I told you I'm with you and I say so again."

" 'tis good to have an ally, Lord Reed."

"Remember, Aemon. Carrot, they all know full well what the stick is. Carrot is what will win them to your side."

"Aye. Though it'll take more than one carrot to feed the North." Aemon said and long after they entered the Great Hall, Jojen still couldn't be certain if that was meant as a jape or not.

Highgarden 2 BC.

Harlen Tyrell.

He looked out the window at what should be the green and pleasant lands of Highgarden. Yet where once he'd see orchards full of apples and vines full of grapes or any of the numerous flowers that bloomed, all he could now see was row after row of tents. The banners had been called and they had answered almost without fail. Though Lord Manfred Hightower had not marched and that was a source of consternation to his king.

Still, King Mern's army was close to 20,000 strong and if what he'd heard about the numbers that King Loren had gathered turned out to be true, then by the time they faced the dragons, this would be the largest army that Westeros had ever known. Despite it all though, Harlen felt a knot in his stomach and at times would feel a chill run down his spine. He was not craven by any means and in truth, he'd not even be fighting in the battles to come, and yet he feared the outcome of that battle all the same.

Moving from the window, Harlen began to ready for the day ahead. By nightfall, he'd be in charge of the defenses of this keep and the fate of the Reach would be in his king's and King Loren's hands. Or mayhap more truly it would be in the talons of the dragons that would soon fly their way. Regardless, he had work to do and so with a last look to his wife, Harlen walked from his rooms and made his way to the kitchens to break his fast. It was a routine of his when he was busy, something he at times enjoyed, though this morning he very much did not. After eating what little his lack of appetite allowed him to, he made his way to his solar and was soon going over figures and raven scrolls and awaiting his king's own awakening before making his way to him.

In this at least he didn't have to wait too long. Later that morning, after King Mern had eaten and spoken to his sons, Harlen walked with him to the King's Solar and readied to tell him all that he needed to know before he left. He was surprised to see his king drink down two glasses of wine and he wondered if that was a sign of just how worried he truly was. Deciding it was for the best not to bring it up, he instead spoke on the numbers that had gathered, the strength of their forces, where they were to go, and what news he had on the Targaryen movements.

"Only 20,000, I had hoped for more." King Mern said after Harlen had told him the figures.

"Lord Hightower moved not, your grace. And his lack of doing so extended to his bannermen and some of the lords closest to him." Harlen's words were spoken without bitterness though Mern's response to them was very much not.

"I understand not the High Septon, surely he'd wish to see these abominations brought low. Yet he counsels my strongest Lord to keep his men back. Manfrey is a lot of things, but he's no craven, and yet I now must name him one."

"My estimate of King Loren's numbers, your grace," Harlen said handing the parchment to his king.

He could see the annoyed and yet pleased look on Mern's face. That it would swell their army to over 50,000 men, with almost half of them mounted was a sign of just how impressive this army would be. Yet the knowledge that because he brought the largest force to bear, it would ostensibly be King Loren and not King Mern in charge would leave a bitter taste in his king's mouth. Looking down to the raven scrolls he held in his hands, Harlen readied to both tell his king what he'd heard of the Targaryen movements and their own strength and to once again plead with him to leave at least one of his children behind. Though he already knew the latter would be a forlorn request.

"It's said that one of the dragons flew North, your grace. While another headed to the Kingdom of the Storm and the last moved into the Riverlands," he said while handing Mern the three raven scrolls.

"Is he really that reckless?" Mern said happily "I had heard that Aegon Targaryen was a warrior of some repute and yet by all accounts he's fighting on three fronts already even without our march. Surely he has not the numbers for such?"

"Our estimates put his numbers at a little over 5,000, your grace."

"5.000, our own army could take that number easily. Can this be right? How current is our information?"

"The last raven arrived this morn, your grace."

"This news is far better than I had hoped for. So few men, dragons flying off in different directions, were we to march and march fast….."

"King Loren sent this, your grace. He suggests Goldengrove would be the first chance both armies had to meet up and march together." Harlen said and then he moved from the large table to the smaller one and picked up the map to place it in front of the king so he could see the route himself.

"Two weeks at most, I'd wager. I'll see it done in far less time though." Mern said as his fingers traced the route on the map "I'll beat Loren there, I swear it by the Seven." he added happily a moment later.

"Your grace, may we speak on the young princes?" Harlen asked and immediately his king's good cheer was no more.

"We've spoken on them have we not? My sons march to war with me, I'll not have one man name any of them craven. Edmund will lead my van as a good son and heir should and Gawen will bear my banner."

"Prince Garth and Prince Garland are surely too young for battle, your grace?"

"Better they be bloodied early than late, and so they'll squire as their brothers and I did before them. They'll know the taste of victory and see what a man looks like with his blood and entrails spilling from his body. Best they learn it now and not grow up thinking the world is made up of flowers and pretty maidens."

"As you say, your grace," Harlen said, knowing that nothing he'd say would change his king's mind in it, and to name it the folly he believed it was would be to incur his king's displeasure even further.

"You'll send riders with news of any change? Ravens to the keeps along our march?"

"Of course, your grace."

"Good man, Good man. The time fast approaches old friend, blood and glory await and the gods will have their due one way or another."

"I'll speak to Septon Fossoway. Have him arrange the blessing."

"I do take much comfort that Marla did not live to see her sons ride off to war, that I think would be a harder thing to face than Aegon Targaryen, his sister-wives, or their dragons."

The king's words weren't truly spoken to him and Harlen had moved to the door as they were uttered. He did not take comfort that Queen Marla was no longer with them. Had she been, then mayhap she'd have been able to talk sense into the king where he could not. Leaving the king to his further contemplations, Harlen made his way to the Sept and spoke briefly to Septon Fossoway and Septa Caswell, happy to find out that the oils had already been prepared and the Septon was ready. From there it was to his wife and son that he walked to, finding that Theo was already at his lessons and Leonette was with some of the other ladies who'd come to wave their husbands off.

A little after midday, he stood in the courtyard as Septon Fossoway spoke the prayers over his king, princes, and their most influential lords and knights. He looked on as oil was placed on his king's forehead and the blessing of the seven was laid upon him. Then, he watched as Mern climbed up onto his giant black destrier, as Gawen held the king's banner high and as one by one, the king, princes, lords, and knights left the courtyard behind them and rode off to an uncertain fate.

While his king was even more confident than he had already been, Harlen was very much not. It was true the dragons had all flown in different directions but that didn't mean they couldn't easily all fly back from them too. There was the disturbing rumor of a fourth dragon as well, though that was one that he could easily dismiss. Three was all the Targaryens could bring to bear and was there to have been a fourth, they'd have heard of it long before now. Still, that knot remained in his stomach and looking to the sky, a chill ran down his spine once more.

Crackclaw Point 2 BC.

Visenya Targaryen.

A part of her welcomed the distraction this flight brought, another welcomed being away from Aegon and Rhaenys, while the largest part of her wished to wait in Harrenhal for Aemon's return or to fly to the North to ensure he was unharmed. She'd been happy to see her sister once more and had welcomed Rhaenys back to Harrenhal most warmly, yet it had been Aegon who Rhaenys had truly wished to be reunited with, and that had only made Visenya think of Aemon's absence even more.

She knew that once she left, Aegon would speak to Rhaenys about her and Aemon, and between them, they'd come up with some plan for her future. Though whatever plan they came up for had better be one that she and Aemon agreed with or neither would go along with it. Visenya was past putting other people's feelings above her own and with thinking of their hearts first and foremost. Surely she deserved to know the same happiness and joy as either her brother or sister did and she vowed that she'd not deny herself that joy any longer.

Orys had stayed in the Stormlands to both secure it and to bring the remnants of its army under their control. While it would be far fewer men than they'd have liked to add to their forces, it was men still and the swelling of their ranks could only be a good thing. That was partly why she wished to deal with the lords of Crackclaw Point, but only partly. Visenya had another idea in mind and it was one that she was most eager to see put in place. So she bid Vhagar fly and fly fast and tried to turn her thoughts to that and only that. It was not as easy as she had hoped it would be to do so, however. As she could feel that her dragon missed her flying companion as much as Visenya missed its rider.

Flying over the lands that made Crackclaw Point, saw her long for Dragonstone and its comforting presence. While there was no Dragonmont or high mountains, the lands below her were quite similar in their appearance to the ones of their home. Vhagar flew low enough so she could be seen, but of a height where no arrow could reach her. Visenya may not feel herself to be in any danger from these so-called wild people, but her dragon would take no risks with her safety and she was ever protective of her. Eventually, she came to what seemed to be the largest of the keeps, and then bid Vhagar land some distance from it.

"Kirimvose, ñuha dōna, īlon kessa daor umbagon bōsa." (Thank you, my sweet, we shall not stay long) she said to a loud trill from Vhagar.

By the time she'd climbed down off Vhagar's back, the riders had arrived. Six men who were all bearing the sigil of House Crabb. They looked as warily at her as they did Vhagar which she had to admit she found herself flattered by somewhat. Though she did look every inch the warrior queen with her dark black armor and Dark Sister sheathed on her hip.

"My name is Queen Visenya Targaryen and I come to offer your lord terms," she said firmly and the oldest of the men who'd ridden to her looked at her and begged permission to dismount which she gave him.

She was stunned when he took a knee, even more so by the words he spoke, and as she accepted the bread and salt that was given to her and the offer of a horse to ride, Visenya almost believed that she was riding into a trap of some sort. Vhagar certainly did and the She-Dragon took to the sky and let out a mighty roar of warning. Then it was to the keep Vhagar flew and when Visenya and the riders arrived at it, it was to find her dragon flying in circles above them. The meaning was clear and it was one that was well taken by not just the men who'd ridden to her, but those she looked at now.

In the courtyard, lined up to face her were the Lords of Crackclaw Point, all of them. It seemed that she'd arrived at mayhap the most fortuitous of times as a meeting was being held where they were discussing how to react to the fall of King Harren. If Lord Crabb was right, then the decision had been made before she'd arrived and it was one that Visenya now waited eagerly to hear confirmed. Then as Lord Crabb moved from her side to join the other lord, as one they took a knee.

"We pledge ourselves to their graces, King Aegon, Queen Rhaenys, and Queen Visenya of the House Targaryen. We do so now and in perpetuity and without hesitation." Lord Crabb said and as one, each of the other lords affirmed those words.

"I welcome you faith and fealty, my lords of Crackclaw Point and for your peaceful acceptance of our rule, I swear you'll be justly rewarded. From this moment on, you are sworn directly to House Targaryen and to mine own command."

Though she wished she could leave it at that, she knew she could not and so she accepted the offer of being feasted that night. She spoke to some of the lords and their men at arms, and to some of the knights and while they were a rougher and courser sort than the men of the Riverlands or the Vale, they were far from the savages that people named them as. It brought the thought to her mind of what Aemon had said about the men and women from Beyond the Wall and she wondered if she'd ever get to meet the so-called Free Folk. She was almost certain that if she did, they to turn out to be just as these men were, and had simply been named as what they were not by people who knew no better.

Mayhap that was why her dreams were filled with her and Aemon when she finally took to her bed that night. Or mayhap that was simply how her dreams were always meant to be. Whatever the truth of it was, she awoke the next morning feeling incredibly frustrated and though she tried to remove that frustration with her fingers, she found them a poor substitute for the man whose touch she longed to feel. So after breaking her fast and surprising the lords of Crackclaw Point with the news that for now they'd not be called into battle, she then bid Vhagar land outside the keep and was soon in the sky once more.

Vhagar flew far more swiftly to their destination than from it and yet when she arrived at Harrenhal it was to find that Aemon had still not returned and that they were making ready to march. The days stretched on to a week or more and they were in sight of the Stoney Sept with still no sight nor sound of Aemon or Rhaegal. Setting up their camp that night, she made her way to Aegon's tent and found him, as always, locked in an embrace with her sister. Visenya was ready to make the same arguments that she had for the past few days, the need and desire to fly north was one that she could or would no longer deny, only for the sound of a dragon's trill to ring out loudly from outside the tent.

Hurrying outside, she looked to the sky to see Vhagar flying next to Rhaegal and both the green dragon and its rider seemed to her eyes to be unharmed. If there was any doubt that her dragon felt as she did, then the sight of her flying around Rhaegal and almost showing off for him would put that doubt to rest. It may have brought a smile to her face, had there not been one there already, and it did make her footsteps even more hurried as she moved to where the two dragons landed.

It was Ghost who greeted her before Aemon could and her laughter rang out as the white wolf licked her face and almost tackled her to the ground. The feel of Aemon's hand as he helped her to her feet and the look on his face as he stared at her own, sent flutters to her very core. As did the smile he wore as he did so. Though seeing that smile turn into a frown a moment later took her by surprise. Turning her head to see why he was frowning so, she saw Aegon and Rhaenys both walk their way and she knew immediately, by his purposeful steps, just exactly what Aegon's mood was.

Her brother though moved too quickly for her to stop him, Rhaenys too was taken by surprise when Aegon ran the last few feet, and then she watched on in horror as Aegon's fist connected with Aemon's jaw and knocked his head to one side. That the punch didn't knock him to the ground was not even something she considered right then, only that Aegon seemed to be lining up another. So with a look to Rhaenys, she and her sister both moved to intervene.

"One I'll allow you but only one. The next one I'll reply to, your grace, and you'll find that I'm as adept with my fists as I am with my sword." Aemon said as he caught Aegon's hand in his own.

"I should kill you where you stand," Aegon said angrily.

"Many have tried and yet still I stand, trust me, you'll find yourself as successful as they," Aemon said as he shrugged Aegon's hand from his and moved some steps away.

She saw it then, the white wolf had his teeth bared and Rhaegal was no longer getting reacquainted with Vhagar. Rhaenys moved to Aegon and led him back to their tent and her brother and sister both looked at her as if they expected her to follow. Around them, lords, knights, men at arms, and others looked on while trying to make some sense of what they had just seen and Visenya found she cared not. Moving to Aemon, she watched as he spat some blood from his mouth and then shook his head and smiled to let her know he wasn't truly hurt. Then she somehow stopped herself from laughing at the words he spoke so that only she could hear.

"That went well, though it was not the reunion that filled my thoughts each night I lay in my bed," Aemon whispered almost wickedly.

Moat Cailin and Stoney Sept 2 BC.

Aemon Targaryen.

He had probably deserved the punch and so he'd accepted it, and it was a decent shot that he'd taken on the jaw. After spitting out the second mouthful of blood from his mouth, Aemon felt that was it and the damage had been addressed. Partly though that was because he had other things that he wished to attend to and so it was them that he concentrated on. Walking with Visenya back to what he found out was her tent rather than Aegon's, she was all he thought about. Once they entered said tent, he turned and took her in his arms before he kissed her deeply.

Despite the small amount of pain he still bore from Aegon's punch, it was only the feeling of her lips on his and her tongue seeking his own out that he truly felt as they stood there. It had felt like an age since he'd last seen or touched her, and it was clear in just how eagerly she kissed him back that she had missed him as much as he had her. Eventually, though all good things must come to an end and Visenya or he, which of them he couldn't be certain, moved from the other and soon it was her violet eyes that he stared into.

"The North Aemon," Visenya said and he chuckled.

"There is much we need to speak on, you truly wish the North to be the first of those things?"

"You and I can wait a little longer, let us now speak on the North and your talks with King Torrhen. Knowing my brother how I do, it'll not be too much longer until he sends for us and seeks the same answers as I do. Once we've spoken on matters involving the conquest, we can then speak on matters of the heart." Visenya said and he looked at her, nodded his head, and readied to tell his tale.

A few days earlier.

They'd tested him at the feast, though with Ghost present the tests were at first more in words than deeds. Soon enough it had been drinking contests and tests of strength and it so reminded him of his arrival here previously. Once again it was an Umber who wished to truly test his mettle and once again he seemed to have passed that test. Though he'd been tired and in need of his bed, he'd drank with the best of them and had only retired for the night when they had.

The next morning it was clear he was to be tested in yet another way and so the spars had begun. He'd beaten each of those sent against him, including Brandon Snow who was the very best of them. Had this been when he'd first arrived at Moat Cailin and before he'd been named a king, then he'd have been a match for mayhap half the men he faced this day. He certainly wouldn't have been one for the founder of the Company of the Rose, that was not even a doubt in Aemon's mind. Years of fighting, training with Jaime Lannister and Barristan the Bold, and facing off against White Walkers, had though paid off. So just as it was with Orys and Visenya, Aemon doubted there was a swordsman in the land who could now offer him a true challenge.

With the testing of his mettle at an end, it was to his offers and his true reason for being here that he turned to next. So along with Lord Reed, who'd named himself an ally, and Ghost, Aemon walked into the Great Hall of Moat Cailin and prepared to once again show the stick before then offering up the carrots that he hoped would bring the North to Aegon's side. He'd thought long and hard about just what he could offer them to get them to accept what they must do and how much Aegon would be willing to give them. Yet neither of those things were in the end the most pressing issue on his mind. Instead, it was the future, three hundred years from now, and the thoughts of how best to make sure that the North not only rose but rose high enough that it would be a much stronger region at the time that they would be needed most.

"Prince Aemon has words he'd like to impart to us all." Torrhen Stark said as Aemon and Jojen Reed walked to the center of the Great Hall, the Cranngoman then leaving him alone to take his seat "I bid you be quiet and to listen to his words before we make any decisions this day." Torrhen added.

Aemon remembered his uncle speaking to the Lords of the North at the Harvest Feasts that would be held in Winterfell each year. Robb too held some of the same power in his words by the time he had met back up with his brother after his truth had been revealed to the realm. King, they may have named him as, but by then he was more a dragon than a wolf, and so thought of more as a Targaryen than a Stark by the Lords of the North. So he had never truly carried the same authority as Torrhen Stark, his uncle, and his brother had with the stubborn men who followed a Stark first and foremost. He hoped that was less true now than it had been then.

"You have seen my dragon, seen my skills with a blade and yet that's just part of why the words I say hold merit in them. Alone should it come to pass, Rhaegal, Ghost, and I can end this army you've gathered. Fierce and proud though you may be, men are no match for a dragon's flames, and not even in your keeps and behind your walls would you be safe from Rhaegal's fury were I to unleash it upon you."

He paused to let his words take effect and saw exactly what he expected to see. Proud and fierce were not the only traits of the Lords of the North, they were stubborn too. So despite his words being true, they liked them not.

"King Harren believed that the walls of Harrenhal would protect him from a dragon's flames and now he and his sons live no more and the great towers bear witness to what King Aegon and Balerion the Black Dread have wrought upon them. In the Vale, House Arryn gathered a fleet that dwarfed our own and yet not one of those ships sail any longer, for they too have felt the fires that Rhaegal and Vhagar unleashed upon them. " Aemon's words began to take hold and he saw the first signs of worried looks on some of the faces around him.

There were angered looks too, from Brandon Snow, Beric Umber, and others, yet King Torrhen sat with a look that took him back to being chastised by his uncle for some wrongdoing that he and Robb had been found guilty of. After one of the many pranks that he and his brother had played on someone, usually Sansa, and that had resulted in Lady Catelyn's wrath, this was the look that he'd be faced with. It took him aback for a moment and he had need to compose himself before he spoke once more. The stick was now out there in the open, it was time to offer up the carrots that Jojen Reed had bid him offer.

"However, neither I nor King Aegon seeks the North's subjugation. We seek not its destruction and though we do seek its fealty, there are benefits in such too. The taxes that we seek the North to eventually pay are negotiable and reasonable. While the access we intend to give the North to our own treasury in order to see works begin that benefit each and every man, woman, and child, in the North, is and will be extensive.

The expertise we offer to see the increased level of food, trade and so as a result, coin, available to the North, is not to be underestimated and yet that's just the beginning of why it's beneficial for you to accept that to kneel is not shameful, but far more preferable than the alternative.

I seek the North to rise and rise high, my lords, higher than the West, Dorne, the Vale, or Stormlands. As high as the Reach and the lands controlled by mine own House. In me, you have a true ally who'll see that the North's interests are protected not just in word, but in deed too. I offer you a pact, my Lords, A pact of Ice and Fire. One sealed in blood and sworn in front of the Old Gods, my gods, and each man in this room knows full well what happens to any who dare cross them."

He let the words sink in, noticed the looks on people's faces as they turned to look at the man closest to them, and most if not all, turned to look at King Torrhen Stark to await his own response. In this, they had not long to wait.

"Pretty words and little detail is what you offer us, Prince Aemon. Yet both my brother and some others." Torrhen glanced at Jojen Reed "Would bid me hear you out and so I have. We know full well the power of the dragons, I've seen Harrenhal with mine own two eyes and I'd not see that inflicted upon the people who name me king. Yet I know there are those in this room who'd bid me fight still." Aemon heard the sound of the mugs being banged on the table "I'll listen to the full contents of your offer before my lords and I will meet and discuss it further. For now, you are welcome to enjoy the comforts of the Moat as an honored guest. For now, that is." Torrhen said before walking from the Great Hall, Brandon Snow then following after his brother.

Had this been earlier in his life, then Aemon would feel as if his words hadn't gotten through. Or that he'd wasted his time speaking them aloud. It had taken him time to be able to rightly judge men and their motives, especially those who hid those motives behind warm smiles and soft words. Not that King Torrhen did either. Margaery and her grandmother had been his truest teachers in this regard, their experience in dealing with such men had far surpassed his own, but he'd been a good student over time as well. King Torrhen wanted details and so details are what Aemon would give him. This was not a lost cause, far from it. All he needed now was to drive the bargain home.

"I'd expected larger carrots." Jojen Reed said moving to him and taking Aemon from his thoughts.

"I do have them. I just felt it better to save them for the king."

"Aye, in that you were right. Come, his grace wishes to speak to you alone."

He followed Jojen down a corridor and to a smaller room than the one he'd met King Torrhen and Brandon Snow in before. Two guards stood on duty and one of them knocked on the door and then bid him enter, Jojen leaving him alone to do so and so he and Ghost then walked into the room. Aemon had half expected the white wolf to be stopped, yet the looks Ghost was given were so reverential that he doubted any would dare to do so. That Ghost could easily tear the throat out of any who tried, well it was clear that was known too.

"A decent speech. You've dealt with Northmen before and it shows." Torrhen Stark said as he stood with his back to Aemon and facing a lit fire.

"Northmen are stubborn and have no time for silly games. Best you come right out with it and let them know the truth of what they face. They'll respect you for it." he said as Torrhen turned to face him "So Aye, I've dealt with stubborn Northern Lords before. I've found that honesty is always the best policy for doing so."

Torrhen nodded before he moved to the small table where a jug and two mugs rested. After pouring two ales, one for each of them, he bid him take a seat. The taste of the ale on his tongue almost stirred up memories he was forced to shut down. Memories of the last time he'd sat face to face with his brother before sending him off to his death and the last drink they ever shared together. Despite himself, his eyes glistened and even in the not-so-very-bright room, Torrhen noticed the building tears. Upon realizing that they could be seen, Aemon decided to speak about the reason for them.

"My brother had thought to become the first King in the North since you, you know. King Robb Stark, it has a good ring to it don't you think?"

"Aye, a good name."

"When I was but a boy, I thought him better than me in every way. Other than with a sword in my hand or upon a horse, he was all that I was not. But I've already told you the tale of my life, King Torrhen, why I'm here, and so I care not whether you believe me or not. Though I could mayhap prove it were you to take a long flight on Rheagal's back with me and together we travel far Beyond the Wall." he said as Torrhen looked at him almost as if he wished to do that very thing "Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying when I speak of my brother. If the pain I feel over his loss and all the losses I've suffered is a mummer's farce or if it's true. For you'll see the same truth there as you did in the words I spoke about my life and why I'm here. The same truth I'll speak to you now."

"I know you lie not. How it is that you are who you say you are or from where you say you're from, is not for me to question. The Old Gods have sent you here, Aemon Targaryen, were I not sure of it by your words or by Lord Reed's, I'd be sure of if by his being by your side." Torrhen said pointing to Ghost "So tell me your plans for the North and let's see if we can't stop both your own and mine brothers from falling before their time." Torrhen said almost pleadingly.

It took almost a week after they'd spoken for the accord to be reached. The North would still march south and it would be Aegon that Torrhen knelt to. History repeating itself almost, though the North would gain much for the kneeling. Aemon had agreed that he'd show them some proof of the words he spoke, a caveat that Brandon Snow had requested and one he'd readily agreed to. So for the second time in their lives, Aemon, Rhaegal, and Ghost would once again be visiting the Isle of Faces and he prayed that the gods answered him when he called for them this time.

"I bid you good fortune in the wars to come, Aemon." Jojen Reed said as he walked with him and Ghost to where Rhaegal awaited.

"I thank you for your help, Lord Reed," he said offering his hand and happy when it was taken eagerly.

" 'til two moons have turned."

"Aye, until then," he said as he and Ghost climbed up on Rhaegal's back, and with a last look around him, they took to the sky once more, the south being their destination this time.

Now.

The tale took little time in the telling. Visenya listened eagerly to each word he said and did not interrupt him even once as he spoke them. She looked at him with an unreadable look on her face when he was finished and Aemon wondered just exactly what was going through her mind. For a few moments, they simply stood in silence, and then she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Come, Aegon will wait no longer," she said and he nodded, before turning to follow her out of the tent.

As they walked, she told him of Crackclaw Point and the flight and agreement she'd done while waiting for his return. Then it was talk of King Loren and King Mern and the army they'd gathered and Aemon tried to remember all he could about the Field of Fire. He was given odd looks by some as they strolled side by side, Ghost acting as his guard though he needed one not. Word must have spread about the punch that Aegon had thrown at him and it would be something that would need to be addressed before the day ended.

When they reached Aegon's tent, he half expected not to be allowed inside and the two guards on duty did look warily at Ghost. Kneeling down, Aemon bid the white wolf to go and find himself something to eat, his most faithful friend looking at him with some concern until he rubbed his head and stared into his eyes. The connection they had was as unique as the one he had with Rhaegal and at times even without warging, they could feel what the other was feeling. Ghost took the punch from Aegon to mean he was in danger, Aemon now told him that he was very much not. Reluctantly though it was, Ghost moved away from him and then raced off into the nearby woods.

"Happy now," he said to the guard who moved out of his way and then allowed him and Visenya into Aegon's tent.

Stoney Sept 2 BC.

Aegon.

It had felt good, but it had been stupid and Rhaenys had let him know so when they reached his tent. His wife was angered not by the punch itself, but that it had been done in public. He and Aemon could not be seen to be at odds, almost as much as they could not ever truly be at odds. For if it came down to a battle between him and his kinsman, it wouldn't be a battle that Aemon would fight alone. Visenya would not fight with him and he very much doubted that she'd simply stay out of any fight that may take place.

So he allowed Rhaenys to chide him and he accepted her words with good grace. It had been her words that he'd listened to in regards to his sister and his kinsman ever since they'd been reunited and she was thinking far more clearly on Aemon and Visenya than he. Though he hated to admit it, it had hurt his ego that Visenya had found someone she wished to share her bed with more than he. Even despite the lack of feeling between them, he'd been more willing to accept that he may not have felt for her how he did, than that she may not have felt for him how Rhaenys did. To know that she did not feel for him how he'd believed had challenged him in ways he'd never been challenged before. Knowing then that it was Aemon who held her affections, had only made that challenge feel ever more true.

"We needs must fix this, Aegon, I had thought…."

"I know, I know. We agreed." he sighed "I just…seeing him made me lose my temper."

"Then you must not lose it so again."

"I won't." he said to a look that told him she believed him not "I won't," he said more firmly.

From the moment she'd returned to Harrenhal, to right now, she was able to center him. Her words, her touch always had been able to do so, but never had it been more needed than it had these last few days. He'd been relieved when Visenya had taken it upon herself to fly to Crackclaw Point. Then even more so that Aemon had taken his time to return from the North. As he'd not been ready to truly face his kinsman at that time, as well as his need to be alone with his wife.

It had been her words he'd listened to. Rhaenys sounded remarkably like Visenya in what she proposed and Aegon gave her words far more weight than he did his other sister-wife. Now sitting in the tent, he wondered if he could actually go through with what had been suggested. If his pride would allow him just simply give Visenya up and could he do so to Aemon. He wasn't certain that he could and yet he knew that he must. He was just about to send for them both when they arrived almost as he had the thought to do so.

"Play nice," Rhaenys whispered as she then moved to welcome Aemon back into the fold.

Aegon could see the swell of Aemon's lip and he took some comfort in it. For a moment there was silence and then Aemon began to speak.

"The North will kneel, your grace," Aemon said catching him by surprise, not by the North kneeling but that he still named him king.

"Under conditions," Visenya added waking him from his silence.

"Which are?" he asked.

"Torrhen Stark and his descendants are to be named as Princes of the North henceforth. House Stark will serve as Wardens in perpetuity and swear faith and fealty to House Targaryen and the Iron Throne in that order." Aemon began and he saw Rhaenys nod "We will tax them at half that of the lowest taxed of your kingdoms and allow them up to ten years where no taxes are paid at all."

"Will the other kingdoms not find this overly generous, Aemon?" Rhaenys asked and Aemon nodded.

"Let them, your grace. The North must be stronger than most when the time comes, for that is where the first battle is fought."

"Carry on, Aemon," he said while not looking at his kinsman.

"We will in time, lend them coin to see the North's keeps and infrastructure are improved. Offer up favorable trading deals with other regions and include them in some deals the Crown itself makes. In time, we….I…will help the North to reach out to the Free Folk, Beyond the Wall, and to see if an accord can be made. The North needs people more than almost any resource other than food and I mean to give them both." Aemon said.

"And what do we get in return for such bounty?" he asked curiously.

"The most Leal and True men and women any could ask for, your grace," Aemon said resolutely.

"There is more?" he asked and Aemon nodded though at first, he didn't elaborate, taking a moment before he then began to speak again.

"King Torrhen will march his army south and will meet with us at the Trident, where he will then publicly kneel and name you as his king, your grace. There you, I, Rhaenys and Visenya along with Torrhen Stark and Brandon Snow will sign the Pact of Ice and Fire. A pact that will tie House Stark and House Targaryen together in bonds of blood and fealty." Aemon said almost proudly.

A small part of him wished to deny him, to tell him, no, and yet it was not something he'd do. In truth, the price for the North's fealty was a small one and it was fealty more than anything else that he wished from them. So he instead asked the true question he had in his mind.

"And should I call for their men?" he asked.

"They will fight for you and for our House," Aemon said firmly.

"And should I call for you?" he asked a moment later.

"I deserved a punch at least and so I accepted it without striking back. But doing so how you did, may have given the wrong impression to those who follow and name you their king. What we now do when facing our enemies will put that to rest. I should have come to you as a man about my feelings for Visenya, that I did not, was not to shame you or go behind your back though you may believe me not. I've known but two loves in my life, my wife and your sister." Aemon said to a small gasp from Visenya "It just took me some time to put aside my thoughts of one and to think only of the other."

"As apologies go, it's not a very fulsome one." he somewhat japed.

"A man should never apologize for his heart, your grace. No matter the cost to his person." Aemon said almost smirking as he touched his lip.

Aegon looked to Rhaenys who nodded, his sister smiling somewhat while Visenya was still looking at Aemon and not really paying too much attention to anyone or anything else.

"After we deal with King Loren and King Mern, I mean to speak to the faith and to set aside my sister. Once I've done so, you and Visenya will be wed. For I'll not allow nor accept anything less than you taking my sister for your wife, Aemon, I'll have your word on that."

"You have it, your grace," Aemon said immediately.

"Do I not get a say?" Visenya asked, though for the first time he could remember in many a year, he could tell when his sister was japing.

"No." both he and Rhaenys said at the same time, and Aegon was pleased to see the smile, brief though it was on Visenya's face.

"Things must remain circumspect between you both, Aemon. Until the faith has declared my sister unwed." Rhaenys said and Aemon nodded his head, though just like Visenya, he had eyes only for her as she had for him.

"Then we shall speak no more about it and I'll keep my fists to myself." he smirked "Now, we make ready to march for we have two more kings to put in their place."

He watched as Aemon and Visenya left, his sister almost skipping from the tent. Rhaenys moved to him and he took her in his arms, his ego had been assuaged, and surprisingly to him, he felt lighter than he had in many a year.

"Are you ready, my queen?"

"I am, my king." Rhaenys aid and he felt it, he felt ready to fight and beat the largest army ever assembled.

For who could stop four dragons who were united in the same cause, four dragons who each were ready to let loose their flames on any who dared stand in their way. Terms would be offered and rejected, and the numbers that King Loren and King Mern had would give them the confidence that they could win the day. But as he'd said right from the very start, if numbers were what won this war then he'd already lost. No, it would be dragons that forged seven kingdoms into one and it was almost time for the dragons to fly into battle once more.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next. The Lannister and Tyrell army clash with the Targaryens and their dragons and Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya, and Aemon bring Fire and Blood to their foes. While we take a look into Oldtown and the Hightower. For those following my other fics, My Honor so High is next.

Missed reviews.

Lilahowii: Chapter 1. So glad you like the premise, I had the idea of doing a Time Travel fic for a while but I couldn't decide which time I wanted Jon to go back to, the Conquest, the Dance, Robert's Rebellion, or some other key moment in Targ history and then it struck me, why not do them all and have them interchange, as part of some larger fic idea. So this was born, where hopefully each story will stand alone, but also be appreciated even more when read as a whole.

Chapter 2: I will say that the telling people aspect of Jon's travels will only really be in this specific one and probably in Robert's Rebellion, he won't for example be just blurting it out when he arrives during the Dance or the Blackfyre Rebellions. Here I felt he needed to, as he's not aware really of what's going on and assumes that this is it for him. It also sort of works for him to tell Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya as a fourth Dragonrider is not easily explainable in any other way. Not like say another Dragonrider in the Dance would be. Jon without Ghost for me just doesn't work, it's just wrong on every level. And yes, the Starks are still seen as family, as somewhat are the Tyrells to him too.

Chapter 3: I do find that the multiple pov aspects help flesh out the world, to me it's more enjoyable than trying to replicate GRRM with the one pov per chapter format and it allows us to hear from characters we may not and to get that second, third or fourth perspective on the timeline and events. The Umber thing was a little nod to Dragon Cub, a little Easter egg. Jon/Visenya was quick, I considered it from a few different angles and as I was writing the Maegor bit, it just struck me that this would be a perfect time for both of them to almost just give in to a need, without actually thinking it through too much beforehand.

Chapter 4: I think there are things you can skim over and others that really do need someone to speak them aloud, especially when they are key things, so I'm glad you liked that. Torrhen we really needed to hear about and it won't be the last pov of his we get during this fic. I'm so glad that Aegon came across as how I hoped. . The White Wolf prophecy will actually be fleshed out, I sort of wanted it to be a bit Meh TBH, as it's kind of been forgotten in its full form. (This is to play into Jon's own time where it's been completely forgotten). So basically in Torrhen's time, it's been whittled down to a single phrase, where in truth, it's a much larger prophecy which we'll learn more of later. In my head, it's a bit like the Prince that was Promised will Wake Dragons from Stone, type deal, where again, the full prophecy is more, but it's almost the footnote of it.

Chapter 5: I thought long and hard about just how much Jon would know, as you say complete and total knowledge would just make him absolutely OP and there will be certain events, (Dorne, Maesters, Citadel) that are completely new to him as they'll not have happened how they will happen here. But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that while he'd know much of the Conquest, Torrhen and the Field of Fire or Harrenhal for example, some of the other more minor events may be lost to him. I do intend to do a lot of political shenanigans here too, to mix things up. And we'll be seeing a lot more political-minded characters to come, such as Harlen Tyrell and Manfred Hightower as well as Shanna Arryn.

Chapter 6:Things are going fast yes, I'm sort of while not exactly rushing through the Conquest (though it will be quicker with Aemon present) trying to hit the key points in the year. It took two years, but in the first year alone, Harrenhal, Gulltown, the Field of Fire, and Torrhen kneeling all took place. So it must have been somewhat like this, them almost jumping from one conflict to the other. The timeline actually goes a little as it does here, they land, they split, they reunite at the Stoney Sept to fight Loren and Mern and then they marched hard to arrive at the Trident to face what they expected to be Torrhen and the North. So I wanted that to come across somewhat the same, but we will be taking a breath after the FOF. And as I said, events like Dorne, etc won't happen as quickly or right away as they'll take planning and such. I do very much have plans for the Starks/Targs to be much more closely aligned, which you can see from Aemon's phrasing of the vows. I also do have some curveballs to throw that aren't Conquest-related, such as Aemon traveling Beyond the Wall for example, and a meeting with the Three-Eyed Raven and the Children of the Forest to come and we'll also see some of the actual ruling too.

Chapter 7 reviews.

BrotherCaptainShepared. I didn't want to drag either of those things out.

Usagi: Aemon will be involved with other women during his travels, however, none mean as much to him as Margery or Visenya and while they'll not be flings as such, they won't be full-blown love affairs, if that makes sense.

Celexys: I think having Aemon/Visenya keep it secret for much longer would have been too much, the same with holding back Aemon from meeting with Torrhen and Brandon, it can turn into just denial if you don't do it soon.

Keb: Aemon does still have issues with the Faith and the Maesters and so while this will help, he still intends to do something to change both orders too.

Dunk: Very much so, there is no way to entirely predict that any change you make can stand the test of time and Aemon is as aware of that as he is that say, for example, wiping out House Lannister leads to no Jaime Lannister which is in some way detrimental to him personally, but also no Tywin Lannister which very much is not. Some of the changes he hopes to make won't even pay off for generations truly, such as the North, or even the Reach and some hopefully will change thins for the next generation such as no Maegor, but then you have to consider what that means too. It's a tricky path and he's going to both make mistakes and have unintended consequences too. I based the North pretty much off how Robb had to deal with them and Aemon too in his own time, there does need to be more proof offered too which is why they'll be traveling to the Isle of Faces. Oh Aemon is well aware of what platitudes the Faith may offer and you're right, the Doctrine must be a thing. If my thinking is right on it, it was the fact they gave up multiple wives that allowed the incest to be somewhat accepted, but yes, the Faith is very much on his agenda. You're right too, the mistakes will come.

Hyoage: Aemon, Rhaegal, and Ghost are the only entities that can travel through time so to speak, so Visenya won't be going with him when he goes, can't spoil more than that. He has Longclaw here, it was gifted to him by Jeor as in canon, but in a slightly different fashion.

Creativo: Una pregunta interesante, ¿no es así? ¿Cómo verán los historiadores a Aemon? Lo descubriremos después del salto en el tiempo, que aún está lejos.

Xan Merrick: Thanks, my friend.

Lilahowii: Thanks so much for saying that. I figured he'd have to tell them, Jojen already knew as I wanted the link between him and Howland to be a tangible thing almost, and yes, other than someone else who already knows Aemon's story, this is pretty much the last time he'll be speaking of being from another time to anyone who already doesn't know. Some of the unknowns are about to pop up in a couple of chapters and added to the actual ruling and plans made that don't involve conquest, they'll flesh things out more. But in some ways, the key points of the Conquest are while certainly not dull and boring, because they're known, somewhat less interesting, especially if they're not truly being changed. If that makes sense. So I sort of want to move past them to get to the events that are more unknown, more up in the air and so more dramatic.