The Reach 2 BC.
Aegon.
When he'd heard the pained cry that came from Vhagar, he'd called for Balerion to come to him. Beside him, Rhaenys looked at him worriedly before doing likewise. The angered roar that rang out was even louder than the ones they'd bid their dragons make earlier and he wagered it was Rhaegal that had loosed that roar. Before the dragons arrived, they saw Vhagar fly over their head and he felt his heart still when he saw the slumped figure on the bronze dragon's back.
"Visenya." Rhaenys cried, his love sounding almost broken in her worry and concern for their sister.
"We ride to my sister," he shouted and he, Rhaenys, and their men turned and rode away from the battlefield and not towards it.
The sight of Rhaegal flying over them and in the direction that Vhagar had flown was somewhat comforting. Aegon now believed that Balerion and Meraxes had flown far from them once they'd given them leave. So to see the green dragon and know he'd reach Vhagar more quickly than they, at least allowed him to assuage some of Rhaenys' fears. Though he was under no illusion that until she saw and spoke to their sister, those fears would not truly fade away. Bidding his horse ride faster, they were soon galloping across the ground.
When they reached their camp, he was relieved to see the sight of both dragons in the distance. They slowed their pace and were about to ride to where the dragons were when he caught sight of Aemon, and again he felt his heart still as he saw who he was carrying in his arms. From this distance, he couldn't see if Visenya lived or not. Something which Rhaenys clearly couldn't either. Given how quickly she dismounted and then ran across the ground to find out the truth of. Less than a moment later, he too was running and when he reached where Aemon, Rhaenys, and Visenya were, he was relieved to hear his sister's voice.
"It's but a flesh wound, Rhaenys. Truly."
"A Healer, someone fetch a Healer," Rhaenys called out as Aegon looked to Aemon, his eyes bidding his kinsman speak more on Visenya's injury.
"The arrow struck the shoulder. I don't believe it hit anything vital and the blood loss is manageable. Its tip was not poisoned either." Aemon said calmly, though his expression and the look in his eyes were anything but calm.
"You're certain of this Aemon?"
"As much as I can be without a true examination."
The three of them walked to the healer's tent. At Aemon's suggestion, they'd brought in some healers from Essos as he mistrusted the Maesters so. They still had Maesters with them and they too would play their part in making sure that the wound his sister had suffered was as Aemon said it was. Yet they'd not put their fates entirely in their hands any longer. Both the Citadel and the Faith would find them far less accommodating than Aegon had originally planned to be. This was but one example of it.
Entering the tent, Aegon looked at the two older women and the Maester they'd brought with them. While Aemon lay Visenya down gently on the soft bedroll, he explained the nature of the wound as he believed it to be. When the Maester moved to examine the wound, Aegon thought a fight would break out and so he nodded to the older of the two women to join him. Then and only then did Aemon allow the Maester to place his hands on Visenya. His own hand holding hers all the while.
"I don't believe this struck anything vital, your grace." Maester Arden said as he moved his hands to the arrow "As for poison?"
Aegon looked on as the woman, Saelella, bent her head and sniffed his sister's wound. The smile that appeared on her face was soon explained as she then repeated Aemon's words from earlier.
"The arrow bears no poison, your grace. The blood loss is acceptable."
"I'll need some room as we need to cut the arrow out so as to not cause any more damage to the shoulder. By your leave, your grace?" Arden asked and Aegon looked not to the man but to Aemon who nodded his head.
The Maester rose to his feet and Saelella moved to Nilila, whispering something in the other woman's ear which soon had her scurrying off to fetch something or other. Aemon lent close to Visenya and spoke softly to her and so Aegon moved to do the same to Rhaenys.
"She will be well, my love."
"I….it could have…"
"I know," he said as he embraced Rhaenys and rubbed his hand down her back.
He was surprised when Aemon got up from where he'd been sitting. Even more so when he walked to where he and Rhaenys stood and bid them walk outside with him. Looking at Visenya, he was pleased to see that she looked unworried or concerned and even more so to see Ghost resting his head beside her on the bedroll. Despite Rhaenys' reluctance, she walked with them and once they were outside the tent, Aemon spoke.
"What's about to happen next will be hard for you to see, your graces. Removing an arrow and cleansing the wound with Firemilk, it's not a gentle thing. Visenya will feel great pain, brief though it will be. I've told her this and she's more than prepared for it. However, she's not prepared for you to have to suffer it with her."
"I'm her sister, I'm not leaving her," Rhaenys said determinedly.
"I beg of you, for Visenya, your grace."
"You'll stay by her side?" he asked.
"I will."
"And you'll inform us once it's done?"
"I will."
He looked at Rhaenys who shook her head and then nodded his own at Aemon who walked back into the tent. Balerion and Meraxes picked the perfect time to arrive and so despite her protests, he led Rhaenys to where the four dragons now rested. He'd thought to speak to Vhagar and yet when he saw the bronze dragon so close to the green one, he felt there was no true need for him to do so. So instead as he led Rhaenys to Meraxes, he then moved to Balerion.
How long he stood speaking to his dragon, he knew not. The guard when he arrived to tell them it was done, could very well have stood there less than a moment or for an hour for all he knew. When he did notice him, both he and Rhaenys hurried back to the healer's tent only to be directed instead to Visenya's own. She was sleeping when they arrived. Aemon sitting by her bedside and Ghost laying at the bottom of her bed. For the briefest of moments, Aegon feared she'd passed. Yet looking at Aemon's expression and simply the fact he was here, proved his fears for naught. Had Visenya not survived, then he would wager that the world would right now be alight.
"She's resting. I had Saelella give her some Milk of the Poppy." Aemon said as he stood up and allowed Rhaenys to take his place.
Aegon looked on as his sister took their sister's hand in her own and brushed Visenya's hair from her face. Rhaenys was both concentrating on their sister and listening keenly to each word that Aemon spoke.
"There was no true damage done to the shoulder and as I'd believed, the arrow itself wasn't poisoned. Both the healers and the Maester believe she'll make a full recovery. So other than mayhap some more Milk of the Poppy should the pain be too much, it's only keeping the wound clean and allowing it to heal that she needs to focus on."
"What happened? Who did this?" he asked as Rhaenys turned her head to them rather than to Visenya.
"I know not what happened, other than Visenya was stuck by an arrow. As to the who, I saw the archers who'd fired, but only long after they had done so. They'll fire no more." Aemon said leaving him and Rhaenys in no doubt that he and Rhaegal had brought about their ends.
He both wished to speak more about Visenya and about the battle itself. They'd won a victory but what form that victory had taken had still to be ascertained. When Aemon motioned with his head for them to step outside, he nodded and then moved to tell Rhaenys he'd be back in but a moment. It was no surprise to him that Ghost moved not and once they had left the tent and moved some feet from it, then and only then did Aemon speak.
"I've been ordered to concentrate on the war, your grace." Aemon said almost proudly "Visenya is displeased her wound will force her to rest for a few days and wishes me not to hover over her like some mother hen."
Aegon chuckled at that, the first laugh he'd had since hearing Vhagar's pained cry. Bidding Aemon to continue he could find no fault in what his kinsman said and so he agreed with his plan to bring the Reach and West into line.
"Rhaenys and I shall watch over her, she's not had a chance to order us away as of yet," he said smirking.
"Be prepared for it, your grace. She can be most stubborn when she wishes it." Aemon said and Aegon couldn't agree more "Don't be alarmed if she hasn't awoken by my return. Taking Milk of the Poppy for the first time in such a dose is disorientating. She may sleep for the night or most of it at least."
"Go do as you must, Aemon. We shall all await your return most keenly."
"Your grace," Aemon said with a small bow of his head, his manners till impeccable and it took Aegon a moment to see their talk had drawn some eyes to it.
He spent the next few hours just sitting with Rhaenys as they looked over Visenya. Ghost never moved from the bed even once, though he did raise his head each time anyone entered the tent. Aegon noticed how much more keenly the white wolf paid attention when it was the Maester who did so, and how little he did when it was either of the two women healers. Visenya remained sleeping and by the time Aemon arrived back, it was almost dusk.
"King Loren and his sons as well as the Lords of the West and Reach await you, your grace. I believe they wish to bend the knee to the King of the Seven Kingdoms." Aemon said and Aegon nodded.
Rhaenys cared not for the kneeling and so she stayed in the tent while Aemon firstly went and placed a kiss on Visenya's cheek before then speaking to Rhaenys for a moment. Then Aemon joined him on Balerion's back as they flew to where the Lords of the West, Reach and the former King of the Rock awaited. All of them held there under the watchful eye of the green and bronze dragons. Rhaegal and Vhagar stood over them like guardians or sentinels and Aegon found it to be an incredible sight.
"I Ki...Loren Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, do hereby pledge myself and my heirs to King Aegon Targaryen and his queens, from this day to my last day. I pledge my House to your own in perpetuity, your grace." Loren said and Aegon wondered if it had been Aemon who'd truly chosen the words he'd just heard. It mattered not, he accepted Loren's oath and then named him as his Warden of the West.
Once that was done, he accepted the oaths of the other vanquished Lords and Knights. There was not a single member of House Gardener present and as he looked to Aemon, he wondered if he'd gone out of his way to see it so or had the gods decided it for him. Whichever it was he cared not. Aemon had promised King Mern that he'd not see the next day and it was a promise he'd kept to. The West and the Reach were theirs and though he still worried some about his sister, he was more than happy about that.
Highgarden 2 BC.
Aemon Targaryen.
He had no desire to do the things he knew he must. Had it not been for Visenya basically ordering him to do so, then he'd not have left the tent at all, but she had and so he did. Finding the retreating Lannister forces had been no trouble at all. Once he had, he'd then simply landed Rhaegal in front of them and ordered them back to the field. The Lords and Knights who made up their commanders and the men themselves. A loud roar from Rhaegal was more than enough to emphasize the point and let them know what should happen should they resist or refuse.
Finding King Loren was a little more difficult and had required him to warg into a bird in order to do so. The soon-to-be former King of the Rock had traveled further than his men and was doing his utmost to do that traveling in cover. Unfortunately for him, there was only so much cover available and eventually he'd had to make his escape over open ground. Once Aemon had realized what he was up to, he'd searched and found the perfect place to confront him and had bid Rhaegal take him there without being seen. Then they'd simply waited until Loren and his men were so out in the open that they'd have no option but to do as he wished them to.
They had landed in front of them. Rhaegal again let out a large roar to make their intent somewhat clear and then once the horses had calmed a little, Aemon had climbed down of his dragon's back and bid Loren and those with him to do the same from their more pitiful mounts. Though they had him vastly outnumbered, he knew full well that he was the one who held the power in their encounter. So fearlessly, he'd waited until King Loren, his heir, and his other son had come to him, rather than him going to them.
"Be thankful that their graces are merciful, Lord Loren." he said and though the man and his sons bristled, none corrected him "For if they were not then it would have been Rhaegal's flames I greeted you with and the Rock itself that would be my next destination."
"What is it you seek of me, Prince Aemon?" Loren asked, his teeth resuming their grinding once he'd done so.
"Why your fealty of course." he said much to their surprise "Our offer still stands, Lord Loren. Knell and accept their graces as your king and queens and pledge your House to our own and you'll be named our Warden of the West. A king in all but name, answerable only to the true king and his queens."
"And that is all you'd seek of my father?" one of the sons asked, though he knew not which.
"Unwavering loyalty. That is what I seek and he" He turned and pointed to Rhaegal "Is the reason you'll give it at first. Believe me, it's better to be on the side of a dragon than in its path."
"I'll kneel," Loren said as he began to get down on one knee.
"Not to me. To their graces. I bid you ride back and ride back hard. If you do so quickly enough you should reach the rest of your men and witness their own kneeling."
That was it, as simple as that. A battle that had not truly been one and one that he believed they'd won a truer victory in than even the history books had named it as. Along with the fealty of a House that in the future had done great and terrible things. Aemon had fought down the voice that bid him end House Lannister for once and for all. The voice that called out loudly for retribution for acts that had not yet been committed or that already had been somewhere in the fabric of time.
He'd named Jaime Lannister as a true friend. While naming his father as one of, if not the evilest and most hate-filled men ever known. Somehow he'd been able to not see the actions of Tywin Lannister in the green eyes of his son and it had benefited him greatly. As he'd flown back on Rhaegal's back and even later when he stood and looked on as the Lords and Knights of the West, their former King, and his heirs had all knelt and House Lannister was named as Wardens of the West for true, he'd again been able to quieten down the angry voice that bid him end them here and now.
"Tywin won't get the chance to do as he'd once done. That is why you're here, Aemon." a different voice said in his mind and it was that one he listened to.
With the battle now truly over and oaths of fealty sworn to, Aemon was free to turn his attention to what he wished to, Visenya. So while their men feasted and Aegon along with Rhaenys did their duties as King and Queen, he sat by his love's bedside and watched her sleep. His very presence in this world allowed for both Aegon and Rhaenys to not need to worry that they were leaving their sister unattended. It was but one of the strange thoughts that came to him as he sat there watching over Visenya. His mind once again turned to thoughts of whether or not the injury she'd received was one she'd done in the original battle.
Had Aegon and Rhaenys forgone the night's feast and sat over her then or had injury not taken place and all three had reveled in their victory?
Had his being here led to her being injured or had it led to her having someone who truly loved her being who sat by her bed?
Was his presence here truly for the better or was he actually changing things for the worse?
The last thought was somewhat sobering. So as Visenya slept, Aemon split his time between looking at her, occasionally touching her face, and contemplating all he had done and intended to do with the life that was now his own. To raise their House so high that none could touch them. Build them up, so that three hundred years in the future the sky would be filled with Dragons and Dragonriders, and the Night King would be the one who found himself outmatched.
He wished to raise the North so it would be as strong if not stronger than any of the Seven Kingdoms. To see it less isolated and less content with the little it had. For it instead to be as the West or the Reach were and always striving for more. Yet he wanted it not to lose what made it the North in the process. As he sat there, even after he'd dosed off with his head laying on the bed beside Visenya's own, those thoughts filled his mind in the shape of dreams of what the future could be and what he wished for it. When she woke him the next morning, the sound of her voice brought a smile to his face, as did the color in her cheeks. Looking at her, he felt his resolve strengthen once more. Be it her, the look she gave him, or that his thoughts and dreams had somewhat cleared up any of his doubts, he believed he was doing well here in this time and yet he still resolved to do better.
Two days later.
By the gods, she could be stubborn when she wished to be. The Maester and the healers had bid her stay abed and she'd managed but one whole day when she listened to them, him or Aegon and Rhaenys. Then not a single one of them could stop her from rising from her bed and going about the things she felt she needed to do. They had been barely able to get her to wear the sling. Only the angered look he'd given her when she refused to do so, had in the end forced her to adhere to the healer's request.
The injury was far from serious. He knew it, Aegon and Rhaenys now knew it, and unfortunately so did Visenya. She may have listened somewhat to his words about how it could fester and that while she'd done no true damage to the shoulder, it was still early enough that such damage could be done, but that was as far as she was willing to go. A day of him treating her like she was a small infant, her words, not his, had been enough for her and so without his knowledge, she'd gone to Aegon which had, in turn, led him to the flight he was now on. Their argument had been loud when he'd found out and though he'd done as she wished, he was still not best pleased about it.
"Highgarden can wait. We have the Lords of the Reach here, or most of them anyway. They've knelt and the Reach is ours."
"And what of your wishes for House Tyrell, Aemon?" Visenya asked.
"They can wait."
"No, they should not. Already I hear the whispers from the Lords of the Reach. They know that House Gardener is no more and what that means, Aemon. They look to Loren Lannister and to themselves and see their own rise."
"Who gives a fuck what they see. They don't get to decide." he retorted angrily.
"Neither will we if we don't act soon. Surely you understand that?"
"I have no wish to fly, nor to leave your side."
"I'm not a bloody infant, Aemon. This is but a flesh wound or so you've all told me. I need not be coddled."
"Yet you act like a child regardless."
"Go, do your duty. Your queen demands it of you." Visenya said before storming from the tent.
Aegon had actually laughed at him, shaken his head, and told him that it was for the best if he did as Visenya bid. He'd not ordered him to do so, unlike she had, but he'd suggested that some time apart would allow tempers to calm. Rhaenys had then come to him to tell him likewise. Before then adding that his absence would be much missed by her sister and knowing Visenya how she did, within moments of him taking flight, she'd wish to be flying with him.
Seeing Highgarden come into view, Aemon put aside memories of their fight and tried not to think about whatever form the making up from it would take. He could barely remember the last time he'd seen Margaery's home and felt thinking about another woman as he did so to be disrespectful to her memory. Flying more than one complete circle over the keep, he looked for the perfect place to land and eventually found it. Then he waited for those inside to either seek to attack him and Rhaegal or treat with them. The latter of those two options very soon was the one that was chosen.
"Your grace, will you accept Guest Right?" a very nervous guard asked as Aemon stood in front of Rhaegal.
"I will," he said as the bread and salt were shakily handed to him.
Rhaegal watched them all carefully as the Steward of Highgarden made his way to him. Harlen Tyrell had opened the gates of Highgarden to Aegon and his sister-wives, he now did the same for him. Though it was far more figuratively than literally much to Aemon's disappointment. There was little if anything of Margaery in the man. Not even a glimpse of Lord Mace of his Goodbrothers, which at first surprised him and then made him wonder if their blood came more from the matches they'd make in the future. Redwyne's blood leading to Mace and then Hightower's to Margaery and her brothers.
"King Aegon…"
"I am not his grace, Lord Harlen. I am kinsman to their graces, Prince Aemon Targaryen."
"As I am no lord, my prince."
"Well, mayhap we should rectify that then shouldn't we."
He flew away from Highgarden less than two hours later. Harlen Tyrell had been shocked and stunned by the offer he'd made him and had knelt in the blink of an eye. Aemon would return here once the war was finally over and would do all he could to see the new Warden of the South was accepted with better grace than he had been originally. He'd make it clear to the Lords of the Reach, that not even a perception of House Tyrell not being worthy would be tolerated. It had always been a bone of contention that a House of Stewards had been chosen above others who thought themselves more suited, he'd make sure it was less so this time round.
She was waiting for him when he landed. Visenya stood by Vhagar as if she was planning a flight and yet she was clearly not dressed for one. He caught the nervous look she gave him when he dismounted and how she hesitated to come to him as he thanked Rhaegal for the flight and then bid him rest. Ghost was by her side as he'd bid him be and the white wolf stayed there now, and only came to him when he called. A moment later they were facing each other and as one they both spoke the same words.
"I'm sorry."
The Reach 2 BC.
Visenya.
The kiss they shared forced her worries away. Her doubts that the fight they'd had would continue were soon being laid to rest. Both she and Aemon had apologized and though there were mayhap things left unresolved, she cared not. It had been the first true fight they'd had and it had left her fearful that it was one they'd not recover from, as silly as that truly was. So much so that she'd sought out Rhaenys for advice and her sister had been only too glad to give it to her. Apologize but only if you're truly sorry and accept his own only if you forgave him, something she was and did.
Though she wished they could stay where they were and could share even more intimate moments together, she knew that for now at least they could not. She welcomed Aemon's words that they'd speak more once they were alone in her tent, but for now, they had other things to do. So they walked together back to the camp and watched as Rhaegal and Vhagar took to the sky. Their dragons having more freedom to share their time with each other than they did.
"Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor." (A dragon is not a slave.) Aemon said fondly and she couldn't agree more.
She noticed how people looked at them as they walked through the camp. A camp that had swollen considerably with the addition of the Lords of the West, Reach, and their new Warden amongst their ranks. Aemon was looked at even more fearfully than Aegon was and she knew full well why that was. For all the lives taken by Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes, it had been Rhaegal who'd done the most damage to the army they'd faced. It had then been Aemon who'd brought these Lords and Knights to their knees and had been the one to force Loren Lannister to turn back so he could relinquish his crown.
Aegon they named as king, her and Rhaenys as queens, Aemon they feared. It brought a smile to her face somewhat and yet it was one that went unnoticed or so she thought. Aemon only mentioned it once they reached Aegon's tent and so by the time they entered to speak to her brother and sister, Visenya was laughing a little.
"And what pray tell is so funny?" Rhaenys asked, her own smirk present as she looked at them both.
"I just simply remarked that my betrothed looks far better with a smile than a scowl and it pleases me to see the former far more than the latter," Aemon said to a fuller smile from Rhaenys.
"It's good to see you both so happy." her sister said.
"How went things with House Tyrell?" Aegon asked as he looked at Aemon.
"Harlen knelt and swore his fealty and I named him as Warden in your stead, your grace. He has promised to come and swear before you and their graces as soon as it can be arranged."
"Thank the gods." Rhaenys sighed "I've had more than enough of these Reachlords trying to earn some of my favor."
"Was it thus in your time, Aemon?" Aegon asked.
"Somewhat, your grace. I believe you were somewhat hoping for it too, however."
"Aemon?" Visenya asked.
"The more I think on it the more I believe you named House Tyrell not because they opened the gates of Highgarden and named you all their lieges, but because you never wished the Reach to become too powerful."
"It makes some sense. If they truly joined together they could mayhap gather the largest force and they combined have the most wealth." Aegon said contemplatively.
"Yet you seek the Tyrells to be stronger this time, do you not?" Rhaenys asked and Aemon nodded.
"I seek many regions to be stronger, your grace. The Reach is but one of them and while it's true I seek the Tyrells to rise, I seek our House to rise even higher."
"The Reachlords are going to love you, Aemon," Visenya said as she rolled her eyes, knowing full well they'd very much not.
"We'll be sure to place some close to you tonight, Aemon. Let them hear it about House Tyrell and then object to your face, should they have the balls to do so." Aegon said with a chuckle.
They spoke then about their plans for what was to come next. Rhaenys wished to march to Oldtown while Aegon wanted to fly to Storm's End and speak to Orys. Aemon reminded them about the North and so it was to be the Trident they marched to and nowhere else. When he was asked if they all should march, the Lords of the Reach and West joining them, he said they should. The North had knelt and the deal they'd been given for doing so was a more than generous one. Still, it would do them good to see what not kneeling would bring them to, or so Aemon suggested.
At their meal that night, things went just as she expected. Aegon stood up and announced the Tyrells as Lords of the Reach and their Wardens of the South and more than one prickly Reachlord objected. When Aemon stood and spoke, all listened, however, and not a single one of them objected afterward.
"We decide who rules over the kingdoms that have sworn to us, we, not you, Lord Tarly." Aemon said emotionlessly "Each of you serves at our pleasure and only at our pleasure. You lost the right to demand anything or to question our decisions out there on the Field of Fire. House Tyrell rules because we say they rule and each and every single one of you will not just accept their rule, they'll bloody welcome it. For if we hear they do not, then they'll have incurred the displeasure of House Targaryen and you look now at the man who'll be sent to see that is righted."
When Aemon sat back down, all dissent seemed to be quashed. True she knew it was not and that at some point an example may be made, but she had realized something else too. Something that she wished to speak to Aemon to confirm when they were alone. He later escorted her back to her tent, he and Ghost acting as her guards, not that she needed any. She felt the discomfort in her shoulder and wished for the ointment she'd been given by Saelella to be applied. Aemon noticed her distress and so both hurried her to her tent and then once he reached it, sought out the ointment and bid her remove her clothing. Visenya despite her discomfort, found herself amused by the urgency in his voice when he'd asked her to do so.
"Something amuses you?" He asked eyebrow raised as he took his seat behind her.
"I know it's been some time, Aemon, but really, demanding me to remove my clothing so, what of propriety?" she japed before sighing contentedly as he rubbed the ointment over her wound.
"Fuck propriety," Aemon whispered, so close to her eat that his warm breath sent a shudder through her body.
"That feels so much better when you do it," she said a moment later, as he finished applying the ointment and then softly massaged her shoulders. His comforting hands paid as much attention to her uninjured one as the other.
"Then I shall resolve to do it more often."
Closing her eyes, she nodded as he leaned back against him. She'd no true wish to do anything but lie there quietly and yet she had questions she wished answers on. Key among them being how harsh he'd been with Lord Tarly.
"Did you have an issue with the Tarlys in your time, Aemon?"
"They had an issue with House Tyrell and so…."
"You know you can name it your wife's House, you don't need to…"
He placed his finger on her lip and so she spoke of it no more. Instead, she asked the other question on her mind.
"Was that why you brought Rhaegal to bear more than we did our own dragons? To have them fear you?"
"The crown can't rule by fear and fear alone, my love. Yet it needs people to fear it too. They fear you as they do Rhaenys and Aegon and yet they must love you all too. They must respect you and fear can oft times deny a man leave to be respectful."
"So you don't want them to respect you?" she asked confused.
"No. I want them to fear me. To fear that should they step out of line it'll be me that is sent to bring them back or to end them. To be House Targaryen's sword and thereby its shield."
"Does that not place you at risk? Place us even more so should anything…."
"Nothing will happen to me. And aye, I've considered that some may look to me and to Aegon or you and Rhaenys and see you the lesser of two evils."
"And?" she asked curiously.
"Let them. As long as look is all they do."
There were no more questions asked nor answered that night. They kissed, wished to make love but could not and Aemon actually tucked her into bed before he left. Visenya laughed truly as he left and named her a child, their previous argument was not fully forgotten and hadn't needed to be forgiven for. She dreamt of a wedding by a large white tree, a simple ceremony and one she much looked forward to.
The next morning, after they'd broken their fast they began their march. She rode at the front, Aemon to one side and Aegon and Rhaenys ahead of them. In the sky above, four dragons flew though she could not see them, and far ahead of them, the white wolf hunted and scouted. The North would soon kneel and then she and Aemon would wed. They'd look to the Vale next, then the Iron Islands, and finally to Dorne, the Conquest was almost complete, and yet they'd much still to do.
The Trident 2 BC.
Torrhen Stark.
Questions had been asked and somewhat answered. Some of the details of what was being offered had been kept to him, Jojen Reed, and Brandon alone. In some ways, they would be given up far more than they were receiving, while in others they were very much not. Yet offers of material things were to some of those who followed him lesser than the loss of prestige and self-determination that being their own independent kingdom afforded them. That his brother was still one of those who thought that way was both worrisome and expected at the same time.
Things changed a little as they marched further south than most of them had ever been before. Upon reaching the Trident, he gave leave to Brandon and some of the Lords that he knew still had doubts about what he was about to do, to ride and see Harrenhal for themselves. Most of them had changed their tune by the time they'd returned. Though Brandon it seemed was still as stubborn as ever. His brother understood they could not win a war against the dragons and Torrhen doubted he truly wished to face Aemon across a field. He'd accepted that he was their kinsman and like any man of the North, had no wish to be a Kinslayer. Yet, his knees didn't bend so easily and as he strolled around the camp they'd set up, Torrhen chuckled at what Aemon had said about that.
"I traveled far Beyond the Wall, met those who lived there, and treated with the man they named as king."
"Wildlings, you met with fucking Wildlings." Brandon spat.
"The Free Folk, a free people who wish only for the right to make their own choices. They faced the doom of all they knew, the end of them, their wives, husbands, children, and friends. Yet they too found it hard to kneel and name me their king."
"And then they did," Brandon said sarcastically.
"No. First I saved them and then they did. Though both of those things were but fleeting. I was their king for less than a year, that was all the time I bought them." Aemon said sadly as he rose to his feet "Our knees do not bend so easily. That was what Mance Rayder said to me when we treated with each other. They were the very same words spoken by the men who fought against my uncle at a Tower in Dorne. Good men and true who wished only to protect their king from men they believed meant him harm. We learn from our mistakes, Brandon Snow, but some mistakes don't give us time to."
He had found his kinsman to be enigmatic at times and while some of it was understandable given all he'd gone through, some of it confused him too. It was as if there were two people fighting each other to be the one in control. One was broken beyond repair and almost defeatist and the other was very much not and still believed victory to be possible. In some ways, Aemon and Brandon were very much alike. That alone named him as being a Stark to Torrhen's mind. Heading back to his tent, he readied for the night's festivities and looked forward to the morrow to come. All things being well, the Targaryens, their army, and their dragons would arrive and by the time the moon had set that night, he, Jojen Reed, and Brandon would walk the Isle of Faces and be given further proof that Aemon spoke the truth.
Torrhen woke, broke his fast, and then he, Brandon, Jojen Reed, Beric Umber, Lord Marlon Manderly, and Lord Karl on Karstark, mounted their horses and rode to the hill that overlooked the lands they believed the Targaryen army would need to cross to reach them. Brandon had said they were good grounds they'd taken, a good position should they change their mind. Not that he, or even his brother he felt, had any true thoughts of doing so. They had not long to wait to see the first signs of the approaching army and as he passed the Myrish Eye to his brother who then passed it along, Torrhen nodded his head.
Aemon had said that in sheer numbers of men alone, their army would dwarf the North's. Looking at them as they marched, he'd not name his kinsman a liar. He'd seen the banners too, Lords of the West and Reach among them and so just as Aemon had said, King Loren and King Mern had been defeated. Thus far all who dared stand against the dragons had fallen. King Argilliac was dead and his daughter was to be wed to a bastard by all accounts. Word had come from sailors who'd reached White Harbor that the Arryn fleet had burned as Aemon had told them it had. Harrenhal stood as s symbol of what the dragons could do and King Harren breathed no more. No, he'd not risk the lives of those who named him king, not in a battle that was long since lost. As he was about to turn and ride back to their camp, Jojen touched his arm and pointed to the sky.
"By the Old Gods." he heard one of those with him say, though he couldn't name which of them had spoken, so busy was he staring at the dragons overhead.
Seeing one of them had been a humbling sight, seeing all four was a terrifying one. Balerion the Black Dread was as close to Rhaegal's size so as to not be able to name which was larger until they landed. The bronze, Vhagar, and the silver, Meraxes, may have been smaller but they were no less impressive. He, Brandon, and those with him, all looked on as the dragons flew over their heads and towards their camp. Before they then turned back and flew in the opposite direction. They rode back hard to the camp and by the time they had ridden out again for the parley, the Targaryen army had come to a halt and four dragons and their riders now awaited them.
Not one of the Targaryens climbed down off the dragon's back until Torrhen and the others reached them. Then as one, all four of them did so. To his surprise, the white wolf was not by his kinsman's side but by the side of one of the two Targaryen queens as they walked towards them. Torrhen nodded to Brandon, Jojen, and the others, and they too dismounted, his eyes on the Targaryens all the while. Aegon was a of a build with Aemon, though, unlike his kinsman, he bore the Targaryen look. His hair unlike his sister-wives was cut short and he wore a crown upon his head. As for the two queens, rarely had he seen a woman as beautiful as either, nor two women who seemed as different from each other.
"King Torrhen," Aemon said as a way of greeting while Torrhen looked from one of the two queens to the other. He named them as Rhaenys and Visenya, only by the sword at Visenya's hip, and wondered why the white wolf stood closer to her than it did to Aemon himself.
"Prince Aemon." he said with a bow of his head before turning to the other three Targaryens and greeting them as one, "Your graces."
"King Torrhen," Aegon said as simply as Aemon had and then Rhaenys spoke and bid them join them in the tent they'd had set up.
As large as the party that made its way to the tent was, the tent was larger still. Torrhen though found his eyes searching out those who had not come to greet them. The vanquished few as Brandon had insultingly named them. He saw a man who could be Loren Lannister, though he'd never met the King of the Rock so he couldn't be certain. There were Lords of the West though, Banefort, Marbrand, and others as well as Lords of the Reach, Tarly, Rowan, and Ashford. Torrhen could see no sign of anyone bearing the Gardener sigil and he wondered if that meant they'd not knelt or if there were none of them left to do so.
They were offered and accepted guest right. Then they were offered ale and food, much to his surprise. Not that he didn't expect the Targaryens to be hospitable, but that it was ale and not wine. Though looking to Aemon who had just nodded to Brandon, he really shouldn't have been surprised by such. While Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya took their seats across from them, Aemon remained standing. Almost as if he stood guard or in judgment over them all. For more moments than he could care to count, there was silence. Only the sound of the ale mugs as they were placed back on the table was heard in the quietness of the tent.
"Well, this isn't awkward at all," Brandon said to a chuckle from those on their side of the table but barely a smirk from those on the other.
"We all know why we're here. Prince Aemon has spoken to me of the agreement he's offered and we've seen it written down in word." Aegon said as Aemon handed him a large parchment "The Pact of Ice and Fire. An agreement like no other we've offered and none we'll offer again."
"And is it as Prince Aemon agreed, your grace?" Jojen asked.
"I see no reason not to honor my kinsman's offer, Lord Reed. Though there are more than one why we wish to see it fulfilled."
"Aye, though the truth of why that is has still to be offered," Brandon said questioningly.
"All in good time, Lord Snow. You are not the only one who wishes to travel to see that proof." Visenya said somewhat angrily, Torrhen needing a moment to figure out why that was and then trying not to smile when he did.
There was more than just kinship between Aemon and Visenya. An attraction, more mayhap? Given that even now the white wolf sat by her side, he'd wager on the latter. What that meant from this point forward though, he knew not. Taking the parchment in his hand, he read it quickly and found not a single promise given to him by Aemon had been changed or altered. Each and every single one of them was laid out and it only required its signing to be a binding accord. Looking to the small knives on the table, he knew too that this pact would be one signed not in ink, but blood.
"While this covers almost all that Prince Aemon spoke of, it doesn't cover one simple thing. One question that remains unanswered." he said to some confused looks on both sides "How this will truly work." he added after a moment's silence.
"It'll work as any such agreement works, King Torrhen. By the will of those who signed it and held true by their honor. Should either side not live up to the things we agree here today, the things laid out in this pact, then the consequences shall be severe to both."
"Aye, and who will see to that, your grace?" Brandon asked.
"I will." Aemon said firmly as he looked at first Brandon and then him "I've explained to you my reasons for suggesting the North is given more than any other kingdom my House has conquered."
"You've not conquered us yet." Brandon retorted.
"Care for me to leave this tent and see it done, Brandon? Care to try your luck against me with a sword in hand once more?" Aemon said angrily before calming himself "I told you in the North, that alone, Rhaegal, Ghost, and I could see your army brought to its knees. As you can see, I'm no longer alone. The time for testing our mettle and will is long since passed, Brandon. To do so again is to risk me losing my temper and trust me, not one of us wishes to see that."
There was silence for a few moments. Beside him, Brandon bristled and once again his brother's pride threatened to get the better of him. He placed his hand on Brandon's arm and then Jojen spoke, calming the mood even more.
"May we have a moment, your graces? A little time to allow calmer heads to prevail?"
"Indeed Lord Reed, that seems like a worthy goal," Rhaenys said.
They left the tent and he glared at Brandon once they were far enough away from it so none but they could see it. Though he wished to send him back to their camp and even the others with him, he knew he could not. So instead he spoke softly to his brother who just chuckled as he did so, annoying him greatly in the process.
"I thought you'd learned to hold your temper, brother? Especially given the dangers we face."
"I have and was. Yet if I'd not tested them at all, then they'd not believe our fealty to be true when we give it."
"Brandon?"
"I'm not fool enough to know when the odds are this far against us, brother. I do listen, and I look to Aemon and believe what he says. I just don't want it to seem as if it's too easy brother, lest those with him are less honest than he."
"I had thought…"
"Oh aye, I wish to see this proof too, but my knees bent when yours did."
Shaking his head at his brother's antics, Torrhen bid them to wait some more time before they entered the tent. When they did it was to find themselves invited to a luncheon and he sat next to Aegon and Rhaenys while Aemon and Visenya spoke to Jojen Reed, Brandon, and the other lords he'd brought with him. He found them good company, as did Brandon and the others with their own. Torrhen divided his attention from what Aegon and Rhaenys spoke of to how Aemon and Visenya interacted and he was sure now that he was right. There was something going on between his kinsman and Aegon's queen and he understood it not.
To all their shocks, barring Aemon's it seemed, once luncheon was finished the sky began to darken. Aemon simply reached out and brushed his hand through Ghost's fur and then rose to his feet.
"The Old Gods call for us. It's time to fly to the Isle of Faces. King Torrhen, Lord Snow, Lord Reed. You can join me on Rhaegal's back, he's used to carrying more than one passenger."
"You may await our return here, my lords, or ride back to your camp should you wish it." Visenya quickly added and Torrhen just nodded when his lords looked at him.
As the Lords of the North rode back to camp, he, Brandon, and Jojen Reed walked to where the dragons awaited. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya climbed up the offered wings as if it was second nature and Ghost did likewise when Rhaegal let down a green wing. The white wolf then took up a position at the front of the dragon near its head.
"It's just like riding a horse, Torrhen." Aemon japed.
"I doubt that very much, Aemon."
He felt the shiver run down his spine as he climbed up the wing. His arms then wrapped tightly around Aemon's waist after he'd taken a seat, Aemon turned to him to point out the hook in front of him. Torrhen had then only just grabbed that hook when they took to the sky. Almost as quickly as they had, he was looking down at the ground as it passed by him in an instant. Looking ahead, as he felt somewhat dizzy looking down, he saw the other three dragons had already reached their destination and were flying in a circle, so he looked down once more.
"By the Old Gods," he said as he saw the God's Eye and then the Isle of Faces, the white weirwood grove, and far more of the sacred trees than he believed grew in the entire North.
"Are we…" he thought he heard Jojen say but he was too focussed on the fact they were landing, first Rhaegal and then the other three dragons following suit and he felt the power of the place as they did so.
The Isle of Faces 2 BC.
Brandon Snow.
Had someone told him a few moons ago that he'd be flying on rather than killing a dragon, Brandon would have thought them mad. Even now as he did so, he wasn't certain that it was not some strange dream he was having. Seeing the Isle of Face below him, even from atop the dragon's back he could feel some sort of unknown power resonate from the island and it made him somewhat fearful to know they were to land there. Yet land there they did and other than Jojen Reed, only Aemon and Ghost seemed comfortable being here.
Brandon looked to his brother and then to the Targaryens. He took comfort in just how uncomfortable they looked as it would not do for them to feel more welcome here than he or his brother. Jojen bore a look on his face that was hard to name while Ghost it seemed was playing some game with Aemon. The white wolf biting on Aemon's gloved hand as his kinsman both pulled that hand away from him and dropped it low so Ghost could repeat his actions.
It took a few moments for any of them to move and it was all four of the Targaryens who did so first. Brandon watched as each of them moved to the dragon's heads and then as the dragons took to the sky once more. Then with a simple nod of his head, Aemon bid them to follow and walked towards the tree line. Moving to his brother and to Jojen Reed, Brandon paid close attention to the fact that Aemon and Visenya, just as Aegon and Rhaenys, both walked side by side. Looking at Torrhen, it was clear that his brother too had noticed it.
"Do you think there is something between them?" he asked Torrhen quietly.
"I know not how the inner workings of dragons, brother, but aye, I do."
"And what do you think we'll see here?" he asked a moment later.
"The truth of things to come," Jojen said almost excitedly.
Upon reaching the tree line, Brandon turned to look behind him. The dragons could no longer be seen and he could barely make out the shore on the other side of the lake. It was hard to imagine that two great armies lay just out of sight and yet he knew they did. As he allowed Torrhen and Jojen to walk ahead of him, Brandon tried not to think of some of the fool thoughts he'd once had about how this war and this particular battle would play out. When he then walked past the trees, he almost fell to the ground as he was hit with more than one sight of Northmen turned to ash. It was so vivid that for a moment he almost called out the dragons for their treachery.
"A taste of things to come, Brandon. A possible future, not the one we now live." Jojen Reed said softly and Brandon noticed he had gripped both his and Torrhen's arms.
"You saw?" he asked his brother who nodded shakily.
Looking to the Targaryens, he was relieved to see they seemed just as shaken as he and his brother had been. Only Aemon and Jojen Reed not looking disquieted by the vision they'd just had. He was about to ask Jojen why that was when they entered a glade and a feeling of such peace and contentment came over him that he cared not what he'd just seen. Open in the middle, the glade was surrounded by a ring of Weirwoods whose number was more than he could count. Each of them seemed even taller than the one in Winterfell's Godswood and the earlier feeling of power he'd felt when landing on the island, was now undeniable.
Aemon led them to what seemed to be tree stumps that had been arranged in a circle and Brandon tried to accept the fact that there was one for each of them was simply a coincidence. He tried at least. When they were bid to sit by his kinsman, he and the others sat and then watched as Ghost ran off into the trees.
"Where is he gone, Aemon?" Aegon asked.
"I know not, your grace. Though I wager he'll not be gone for long and won't return alone."
In this, he was proved right. As no more than what felt a few moments later, Ghost returned and Brandon was not the only one who gasped at who or what he returned with. Their laughter named them Children of the Forest, as did their looks. As small as true children and yet anything but childlike. Their skin was brown and their eyes seemed to be almost catlike. Seeing them and Ghost move and hearing, not a sound as they did so, Brandon would wager that both could only be creations of the Old Gods. For only they could make something so graceful. They spoke in a language he knew not and yet would name as some form of the Old Tongue, and hearing Aemon speak it back to them was a shock, to say the least.
"You must drink what they give you to drink. All of you, for not to do so would be considered a rejection of guest right." Aemon said and Brandon found himself nodding even before he'd finished speaking the words.
Less than a moment later, one of the Children stood in front of him and stared at him with what were not large golden eyes. Whether it was male or female was impossible for him to tell as it looked so much like the others. Some of whom had moved to offer a cup of some liquid or other to the rest of those who'd come with him. Brandon saw Aemon accept his cup and drink it without questions and so he did likewise. Noticing that the hand which offered it had but three fingers and a thumb and seemed to be clawed. Drinking down the foul-tasting liquid was a chore and yet he did so, his eyes on the Child all the while.
She wore what seemed to be flowers or twigs in her hair and named herself as Dapple. Brandon almost fell off the tree stump he was sitting on when he could suddenly understand her. When she laughed at him, he laughed with her. Before he then looked to see he wasn't alone in being now able to converse with the Child in front of him. He could hear questions being asked by his brother, Jojen Reed, and the Targaryens and could see more than one child was now playing the same game with Ghost that Aemon had been a little earlier.
"They are ready, my prince," Dapple said as she moved away from Brandon and closer to Aemon, the other Children doing likewise.
"Show them," Aemon said almost sadly.
His eyes closed of their own accord. Brandon then found himself in a sand-filled desert and in front of a Tower. He watched as seven men of the North faced off against three men in white cloaks, one of them as good a sword as Aemon had shown himself to be. One by one the Northmen fell as did two of the white cloaks, leaving just the swordsman and a man who as he looked more closely at, he'd name his kin.
Before he could end his kinsman's life, a small man who was the very image of Jojen Reed had backstabbed him. Then Brandon heard the scream come from the Tower and was running towards it without a second thought.
"His name, his name is Aemon Targaryen. Promise me, Ned, promise me you'll protect him…Promise me…"
He stood in one of Winterfell's chambers, watching as a younger Aemon walked into the room where a red-headed woman sat by the bed and a young boy lay unmoving in it.
"I came to say goodbye to my brother, my lady," Aemon said.
"You've said it." the woman replied dismissively.
Aemon though walked to the bed, what words he said as he first stood and then knelt by his brother's side, Brandon heard not, though the looks the woman gave him as he did so was all too clear to him. Turning when he heard a noise behind him, Brandon looked on as his kinsman from before now entered the room.
"I want you to leave." the woman said both tearfully and with spite. Both she and Aemon then turned to his silent kinsman who remained so.
He saw Aemon place a soft kiss on the young boy's head before then moving to leave the room and the boy behind.
"Jon." the woman called out and Aemon stopped at the door and turned around "It should have been you," she said as she then began to cry, his kinsman moving to her and not to Aemon whose shoulders slumped as he walked from the room.
Brandon felt the wind bite and looked on as Aemon and his kinsman, a man he'd now name, as Eddard Stark the Lord of Winterfell and Aemon's uncle, faced each other on horseback. Behind them, a large party bearing the banners of both House Stark and a Stag that he knew not which House it represented, as well as a Golden Lion, all marched what seemed to be South.
"There's great honor serving in the Night's Watch, The Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years. And you are a Stark. You might not have my name, but you have my blood. " Eddard said.
"Is my mother alive? Does she know about me? Where I am, Where I'm going?" Does she care?" Aemon asked.
"The next time we see each other, we'll talk about your mother, hmmm. I promise."
He wished to shout at the man, to run to him and drag him from his horse. Instead, before he knew it, he was standing in a crowd in a large city and watching as Eddard Stark was led to the executioner's block. Brandon felt no sympathy for him whatsoever. Yet he, the crowd, and the very day itself seemed to still as Eddard was asked to admit his crimes.
"Aye, I committed treason against my king. But I committed a far worse crime against mine own blood. A crime I'll seek nor gain no forgiveness for."
"Answer only what you're asked, traitor." A blonde-haired boy shouted as he scowled at the as-of-yet still-standing Eddard Stark.
"Joffrey Waters is not Robert's Son." Eddard shouted as around him men moved to him "He is not the true king. A son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife Lyanna Stark lives and breaths and is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
Brandon looked on as Eddard was beaten and even to his eyes, it looked as if more than one knife was brought to bear.
"Jon Snow is not my bastard son. He is my nephew, Aemon Targaryen, the true king of the Seven Kingdoms."
"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" the blonde boy screamed and as Eddard was forced to the ground, the sword was drawn and it took two cuts to remove his head from his shoulders.
The images then came thick and fast. Aemon at the Wall and riding away from it. Moat Cailin and chants of King in the North. A wedding that was held both in a Sept and at the Heart Tree. Armies marched, battles were fought, and then a green dragon was brought to bear. Brandon saw Aemon crowned on the very same steps that Eddard had lost his head. He saw him with those he named as his siblings and even with a young babe in his arms.
He watched as he left them all behind and traveled Beyond the Wall, as he treated with Wildlings, and then as he and they faced things that sent a shiver down his spine. Battle after battle, death after death, the North, the Riverlands, and finally Westeros itself falling. Until he looked on as a desperate Aemon atop the green dragon's back tried in vain to reach his family and then as that family was taken from the world in a blaze of green fire.
Brandon saw Aemon sit alone, just him and the green dragon, and then fly over lands he knew not. One final battle where he was outmatched and yet fought regardless and then what seemed to be his death as he and the green dragon fell into a river of fire. Then there was nothing, only darkness and the faintest of voices calling to him. It took him some time to make out the words that were being spoken and when he did, he nodded his head, called out his reply, and made a promise to the Old Gods themselves.
"Whatever is bid of me." he cried out "Whatever you wish of me." he shouted "I am yours to command."
Isle of Faces/Trident 2 BC.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
She was more than happy to be leaving the island behind. The strange childlike creatures that Aemon named the Children of the Forest had not been there when she'd awoken from what she could only name as a nightmare. Aegon had knelt over her and she had welcomed his embrace while somehow she'd kept from losing any more composure than she already had. Visenya had seemed just as discomforted as she was and Rhaenys had been pleased to see Aemon offer her the same comfort that she had received from Aegon. Given some of the things she'd seen him go through in his life, it was a remarkable thing that he had any comfort left within him.
Her dream, vision, or whatever name you'd give to what she'd just experienced was of not just Aemon's life and struggles, not just his losses, but the losses experienced by their House too. She'd seen dragons fighting other dragons, a queen being fed to one by a man who was clearly her kin. Children were murdered as two sides of her family fought over a throne made from swords. Rhaenys had watched as cruel kings, mad kings, ambitious men, and plotters and schemers had done all they could to bring down her House. Aemon's words about ensuring they rose so high that no one could ever threaten them, had now taken on even more significance.
She welcomed the flight on Meraxes' back as she always did, and even more so, the peace it brought to her now very troubled mind. Upon landing on the ground that was far from the Isle of Faces, though not as far from them as she had wished to be, she was glad that they were to be given a few moments before speaking to the Starks once more. Gladder still that Aemon and Visenya too gave her a few moments alone with Aegon. She and her love quickly embraced each other as soon as they entered the tent.
"I had not….the things I saw," Aegon said shakily.
"It's true, it's all true," she said, though she'd long believed the words that Aemon had spoken.
"It'll not come to pass, Rhae. I swear it, it'll not come to pass." Aegon said determinedly and she kissed him fiercely, needing the feel of his lips on hers.
When Aemon and Visenya arrived a few moments later, she moved to her kinsman and welcomed him with a warm embrace.
"The things you've seen, Aemon…no one should.."
"They'll not come to pass, your grace," Aemon said and as fearful and upset at all she'd seen that she still was, those words sounding so much like Aegon's own, quickly brought a smile to her face.
"This pact, Aemon. You're truly sure this is the way?" Aegon asked and Aemon nodded. "Very well, then let's see it signed and move on with bringing this Conquest to an end."
Aemon himself walked to fetch the Starks and she wondered if he did so because of what they themselves had seen. With just her, Aegon and Visenya left alone in the tent, she moved to her sister to see how she was feeling.
"You saw?" she asked softly.
"I saw such horrors and yet it was those he faced that I cannot forget."
"They'll not come to pass," she said, repeating both Aemon's and Aegon's words.
"No, they will not," Visenya said determinedly.
The Starks and the Crannogman took their seats and she took out the parchment that the pact was written on. Handing each of them a knife, she cut her hand and then dipped the quill into the wound before signing her name in blood. Aegon, Visenya, Aemon, and then Brandon Snow, and Torrhen Stark all did the same. Once it was done, she held the parchment in her hand and looked to those on the other side of the table.
"We've all seen what fate awaits us if we don't live up to these words. I think I can speak for us all when I say it's not one we seek to come to pass." she said, noticing Aegon's half smirk "We are tied now, our House and yours. Tied in bonds of blood. Tied in bonds of family," she said looking to Aemon who nodded "My sister and Prince Aemon are to be wed, Prince Torrhen, Prince Brandon. I know they would wish the other side of Aemon's blood to be present. Tonight at the Heart Tree will be acceptable will it not?"
"It will, your grace."
"On this side of the God's Eye, your grace. I think I speak for all of us when I say, I've no wish to set foot on that island ever again." Brandon Snow said and Rhaenys smiled at him as she nodded.
"Nor I, Prince Brandon, nor I."
"There will be much work to be done over the next few years, Prince Torrhen. Even were it not written in this pact, what we've all seen would name it so. House Targaryen and House Stark, it falls to us to change the future. To see that when those dead blue eyes look south, they'll find us a far different prospect."
"They most certainly will, your grace."
Ale was brought in and each of them would drink it, this pact would be sealed in blood and a Northern drink and not with wine. Rising her mug, she looked to Aemon, Aegon, Visenya, and then the Starks and Lord Reed.
"To the Pact of Ice and Fire."
"To the Pact of Ice and Fire.."
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next, more of the visions experienced on the Isle of Faces are revealed as a wedding is held. Plans are made to bring the conquest of five of the Seven Kingdoms to an end and to begin the conquest of the final two. While Aemon and Visenya enjoy their first night as man and wife before flying to the Vale to meet a boy lord and his mother. In the far North, a man with a thousand eyes and one, looks on with interest.
For those following my other fics, My Honor Goes so High is next.
Missed Reviews:
Vlas281294: You raise an excellent point, when it comes to the incestuous part of Jon/Visenya, in truth they are probably as incestuous as any of us are. She does deserve happiness too.
Chapter 9 Reviews.
Celexys: Thanks so much, really glad you liked it.
Dunk: I did consider that with Loren, but felt it was better placed to show it later on. We'll be getting a look into the other vanquished few over the next few chapters as the dragons separate once more. The High Septon having visions is sort of canon, in that he claimed it anyway. Now whether he actually had a vision or simply looked at things logically, came to the conclusion that they were screwed, and then played it out that it was a vision he received, well that will be gone into soon enough. I sort of skimmed over the Tyrell bit here, almost a bit like I did somewhat earlier with the Starks and also with the Lannisters and even the Durrandon's, as a lot of work is set to be done, post-war. And we'll be getting a much more in-depth set of looks into each region, House, Lord/Lady, etc, once the Conquest is basically at an end. Also, the changes that are in store for each of them. In terms of chapters, in my head, I always had it that the Conquest would be around 20-25ish, so I'd say we're almost at the halfway point. We still have the war in Dorne, the dealing with the Faith/Citadel, and the setting up of the way the realm works to come, so a lot of changes are being made that Aemon hopes will lead to a better future.
As for his jump through time, it'll be unexpected for both Aemon and the readers, I hope. Aemon is convinced he'll live and die here, he's completely unaware of the jump to come. But I can say no more than that.
Keb: Well the last thing Aemon would allow is for his children to be brought up thinking they have any other role other than to protect their family and to be backups in case Aegon's line falters, Visenya too because of what Aemon told her about Maegor, so we'll see.
Lord Rayden: Es würde irgendwie den ganzen Punkt verfehlen, dass Aemon zurückgeschickt würde, wenn das passieren würde, zumal es nicht ohne ihn ging. Ich sage jetzt nicht, dass es keine unbeabsichtigten Folgen geben wird, aber das würde nicht allzu viel Sinn machen, wenn man darüber nachdenkt. 3 Drachen haben das Feld des Feuers gewonnen, 4 können es nicht etwas verlieren.
Musadak: Thanks so much for saying so.
Shieltor: Actually this was pretty canon tbh, other than Aemon being there. The Field of Fire happened basically this way, Aemon may have killed more people, but in the canon fight, The Gardeners were wiped out, Loren knelt and Visenya was injured. So time-wise for Aemon to jump, we're looking at years, won't say how man, chapter-wise, we're at or close to the halfway point, as there is much more left to do. Dorne, Faith, Citadel, setting up the realm, etc. When he gets to the dance, it'll be Rhaenyra's side, not just because I favor that side, but if you go back to Aemon's conversations with Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya, he brings it up about it needing to be firstborn, not first child, so it's clear where his loyalty lies.
Cregan Stark:Wäre es vielleicht erst ein Jahr her, aber es sind mehr als fünf gewesen. Er war nicht nur allein, er hat auch nicht den Wunsch, den Rest seines Lebens in einer Zeit zu verbringen, von der er glaubte, dass er auf die gleiche Weise sterben würde. Außerdem ist er sich ziemlich sicher, dass er seine eigene Zeit nie wieder sehen wird, also ist es nicht so, als ob er glaubt, dass er es zurück zu seiner Frau / Familie schaffen wird. Geht es schnell, er und Visenya, ja, aber nur wenige Menschen, die ihre Frau/ihren Mann verlieren, wenn sie jung sind, heiraten nicht wieder. Noch weniger, wenn ihr ganzes Ziel darin besteht, ihr Haus noch höher zu heben. Für Aemon kann er also niemanden wirklich heiraten oder mit jemand anderem als Rhaenys oder Visenya zusammen sein, und nur einer ist eine Option.
Therockyroad: So glad you liked it, hope you enjoyed the new chapter.
Xan Merrick: Thanks my friend, glad you enjoyed it.
Princessofgreenwood: your wish is my command.
Allysanne: ut mir leid, aber Aemon würde das Risiko nicht eingehen, mit jemand anderem zusammen zu sein, nicht, da es sein Ziel ist, Haus Targaryen höher zu heben. In Bezug auf die Ehe war er überrascht, dass er sich so sehr in Visenya verliebt hatte, und in Wahrheit würde dies das einzige Ergebnis sein, das Aegon zulassen würde, sobald er mit ihr geschlafen hatte
Creativo: Ciertamente no lo es, y la Fe pronto descubrirá cuánto los odia.
Trinity Seven: While we saw Brandon's visions here, his was different from some of the others and more than one of them saw the Night King and the White Walkers, as for their march, it won't be in this timeline but in Jon's own, which is what he's setting things up for and why he'll be jumping from here to the Dance, Blackfyre, Robert's Rebellion and finally War of the Five Kings, before facing them again.
Ilena Petrova: Thanks so much for saying so. I don't mind the somewhat negative comments they make, they have a specific gripe with certain aspects, and other than that, they're usually complementary and always polite.
LB: Jon will be with Rhaenyra in the dance, though it will be somewhat different. More a sex thing than a love thing, he'll sort of play the role of not quite her man on the side, but almost. It's hard to explain and I'm doing a terrible job of it, but he'll only ever love two women, Margaery and Visenya and anyone else will be a lesser thing if that makes sense. He will though be completely 100 percent on Rhaenyra's side there.
Viserys: Jon and Visenya may have at least one child, while Rhaenys and Aegon could well have more than one. I can say no more than that.
King Mern: I've planned them out for the longest time, and all I can say is that after the first hump happens, (Jon arrives during the timeline of the Dance) it'll be much clearer. Not all he does will work as he hopes it will, that's all I can say for now.
Barly: He will be traveling to that timeline among others. To be honest, I had hoped to have the first book done before HOTD aired, but I went through my own GRRM unable to finish it moments. Unlike him though, mine was some temporary setbacks, so it won't take years to get there lol.
BellaSwan: Aemon truly needed it too, to find that happiness again. Otherwise, he'd be a shell of a man and Visenya deserved better as well. As for Aegon, in the end, he did the right thing, so he has that in his credit. Rhaenys too benefits as it allows for her and Aegon to be who they both truly are and not have to share their love, which let's be honest never really works out well for any of them. We will see more of Aemon/Visenya simply being happy as we go, especially next with the wedding.
Orthankg: So glad you liked it.
Fyr RedNight: Thanks so much for saying so, it means a lot. Hope you enjoy what's to come.