Late 158 AC, Lys

Aegon

Aegon stood in Lys's harbour, looking upon Alyn Velaryon's ship as it docked in. He spied Aemon on the deck and waved, glad to see his brother after so many years. Aemon recognized him and waved back. Aegon got a good look at Aemon's face after so many years. By the gods! Was that a beard on Aemon's face? Was he trying to look older because he was a father now? Aegon wanted to tease Aemon so badly, he could not even wait for them to disembark.

"Lord Alyn," Aegon called out to Alyn Velaryon who was standing beside Aemon on the deck, "who is this old man upon the deck with you? Why it seems as if he could be mine own grandsire! Old man! What are you doing on the ship? Are you a stowaway?" Aegon burst into laughter, unable to control himself anymore.

By now, the gangplank had been lowered Aemon stomped his way down, irritation clear in his eyes. He walked over to Aegon and was about to punch him but suddenly stopped. He turned to Velaryon and spoke.

"Lord Alyn, look at this hideous monstrosity upon the harbour. I had heard that Lys was called Lys the Lovely but this man seems to be the ugliest I've ever seen, scarred and swarthy that he is. Perhaps he is a beggar, my lord. Let us throw a few coppers at him and he might let us be," Aemon said and he too laughed, though Aegon realized that it was forced.

"Ah, no need to fake your laugh, old man. It is clear that you are lacking in wit and intelligence. You are gazing upon the most handsome and desired man in the world. Your jealousy blinds you. Or perhaps it is your old age?" Aegon countered and chuckled once more.

By then, Velaryon had descended from the ship and walked over to the brothers a smile on his face. He drew his cloak closer around himself to ward off the spray and spoke.

"Well met, Aegon. Though it seems as if you and Aemon did not even have a reunion. In fact, it seems as if both of you haven't parted ways at all, the way you bicker," Velaryon said. Then, he frowned.

"I see you have been injured, and rather grievously at that, judging by your scar," Velaryon said.

"It must have been some maiden caressing you face, brother. Perhaps it is my goodsister?" Aemon asked. Aegon laughed and clapped Aemon on the shoulder.

"Nothing so serious. Simply an accident when I was practising at jousting. And the maidens do love to caress it so," Aegon said smiling and steered them to where a huge bull of a man was waiting for them a few yards back, holding a few horses by their reins. Aegon led them there even as the ship's crew started to bring down chests and other provisions. Aegon spoke once they reached the man with the horses.

"Brother, Lord Alyn, this is Ser Jon Harte. He is, for lack of a better word, my man here in the Company," Aegon said then turned to address Harte, " Ser Harte, this is my brother Aemon and you know Lord Alyn, of course."

"Greetings, my prince. And to you as well, my Lord. I trust the crossing was pleasant," Harte said. He had a deep voice which had a tendency to calm down whomever he was speaking to, but Aegon had found himself dozing off sometimes when the man spoke.

Aemon nodded his own greeting and the party took the horses from Harte's hand and mounted up. As they started to make their way to the First Magister's manse, several other men armed with spears fell in line with them, walking as they rode. They had no distinguishing marks not did they wear any uniform, but it was clear to a discerning eye that these were soldiers from the Free Companies. While the party made their way out of the harbour, Velaryon and Harte took the lead with Aemon and Aegon lagging behind. Velaryon turned to Harte and spoke.

"Has the Company had a profitable few years Jon? It has been quite a few years since I saw you lot last. News of Essos and its wars reaches the realm very slowly," Velaryon said.

"It was hugely successful, my lord. We had successive campaigns in Slaver's Bay, near the Dothraki Sea, with Braavos and others to name a few. The Company is richer than ever before and now the news that we'll be able to fight back home in Westeros has raised the spirits of many of the soldiers," Harte said. Velaryon frowned and addressed Harte.

"Has news of the Conquest reached Dorne then? If the soldiers know of this, it is only a matter of time before some sponge blabs it in a tavern for everyone to hear. This was meant to be discrete," Velaryon said, accusation dripping from his tone. Aegon answered him rising to the challenge of defending the Company.

"The men-at-arms know nothing. Only trusted knights of the Company have been told of this plan, beyond myself and Ser Oscar. I trust these men to keep my secrets, else I would not have told them of this at all. You underestimate my power over the Company, Lord Alyn. I am the Company. It answers to me. If you doubt it, you doubt me," Aegon said hotly, taking the accusation against the Company upon himself.

"Peace, Aegon. I was merely worried is all. It would not do for our plans to be revealed to the Dornish prematurely. Not with the King so ill and bedridden," Velaryon said calmly. Aegon's anger died down at this and he nodded and turned to Aemon, putting the issue out of his mind.

"Tell me Aemon, why the beard? And what of my nephew, Jaehaerys was his name, I believe?" Aegon asked.

"Yes, Jaehaerys. He will be five namedays old in a few moons. And he has a sister too. Rhaenys, we named her. She is two namedays old now," Aemon said, pride evident in his voice. Aegon was glad his brother had found happiness with Naerys though he noticed that Aemon had neglected to speak of his beard. Aegon wondered if that was on purpose. He clapped Aemon on the shoulder and spoke.

"I should like to meet my niece and nephew soon, brother. They must be fair to look upon. If they take after Naerys, that is. I pity whomever they marry should they have the misfortune to take after you in looks," Aegon said and grinned.

"Says the scarred monstrosity," Aemon countered.

"I am hurt, brother. Your words wound me deeply. I hope I am right in assuming Daeron is well, too," Aegon asked.

"Yes, he is well. He exerts more influence upon the court as the days pass with uncle now confined to his bed. It is good. With the state of uncle's health declining by the day, father too approves of him taking on the responsibilities of the realm. And he is also in good health, thank you for the concern," Aemon said. Aegon rolled his eyes. It was really characteristic of Aemon to construe statements that Aegon had not said at all.

"I trust that Naerys is of sound health too? She was always of a sickly disposition when we were younger. I hope she is happier with you as her husband rather than me," Aegon said, a wry smile on his lips.

Aemon was silent for a while and Aegon looked over to see what the matter was with his brother. Aemon seemed to wilt before Aegon's eyes losing his good cheer in an instant. Aegon grew concerned.

"Is Naerys not well? Did father force you to leave her while she was suffering from some ailment? Is she … ?" Aegon asked, afraid to even voice his deepest fear.

"No. No. She is well enough. When I had left King's Landing, she was recovering. She had a difficult birth a few moons back and the child was stillborn. It took a toll on her it was a few weeks before the Grandmaester pronounced her as being out of any danger. It was then that Daeron sent me here to take my mind off matter," Aemon replied.

Aegon took one hand off the reins of his horse and wrapped it around Aemon's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. They rode for a while in silence, each one's thoughts running wild. An awkward silence descended over them, each finding the other changed, different from the brother they knew and found themselves unable to bridge the gap that time and distance had wrought between the brothers. After a while, when the silence grew heavy, Aemon spoke in an attempt to dispel it.

"Tell me, brother, of your wife. She is the daughter of the First Magister, this I know. She is also of a family from Old Valyria and that carries a not-insignificant amount of prestige with it. But these people, this family, were they ever Dragonlords? I should think not, else we'd have heard of them," Aemon said.

"Oh no, these people were never Dragonlords. They are not even a family from Valyria unlike us and the other Forty. They from deeper into the Valyrian peninsula and closer to Essos. When Lys was first founded, they were sent as castellans and administrators," Aegon replied. Then, he asked something which had been on his mind even before Aemon had arrived at Lys.

"Aemon? Why has it taken you such a long time to arrive from King's Landing? From what I understand, you left a few weeks after Naerys gave birth, but it took you near enough to five moons to reach Lys?" Aegon asked.

"Ah. Well, we were waylaid by a storm near Pentos and had to stop for repairs. It delayed our journey by quite a while. Why do you ask? Have we missed anything by arriving so late?" Aemon replied.

"If you were to arrive a day later, you would have missed my marriage. I thought you would not make it at all. In fact, I didn't even know of your coming. Lord Alyn's ship was recognized and I hastened to the harbour," Aegon said.

"Missed your marriage! What are you talking about? Why would we have missed your marriage?" Aemon asked. Aegon looked to Aemon and saw him shocked and outraged.

"Well, the Lyseni have their marriages on special days that are blessed by their gods. Or something like that. So, Caegal has been consulting with his astrologers to set a date for the marriage. And that date was set to be tomorrow. Besides, I did not even know that you lot were coming here," Aegon said.

"Why should we be following the Lyseni customs for the marriage? Your bride will come back to King's Landing with you. If she keeps her own gods, it would be very difficult for her," Aemon said. Aegon frowned at these words. He had never thought of this issue before.

"The wedding is being done in the Lyseni style to avoid any rumours of an alliance forming. It is so that people who know of this wedding will only think that I am being married to her because of my position within the Company. Serenei shall keep to the Seven once we go back to Westeros. I shall instruct her to learn the Common Tongue, though she does speak it well enough already. I will not have my wife be shunned for being a foreigner, though she might be one in truth," Aegon said.

Aemon nodded and they rode in silence. Aegon wanted to say something, anything at all to dispel this silence hanging over them. For all that Velaryon had said of them not having parted ways at all, Aegon felt acutely aware of the way his brother's had changed.

Aemon held himself differently. He walked differently and spoke differently. He hugged differently. Aemon's hands were as calloused as Aegon's were and then, for the first time since they met, Aegon got a good look at the sword hanging from Aemon's hip. Recognition and jealousy flashed through Aegon at the same time.

"Is that Dark Sister I spy at your hip, brother? I was unaware that you had been knighted. And to be given Dark Sister too. A most impressive achievement," Aegon said. His tone must have betrayed his feelings on the matter. Aemon grew guarded. He still remembered Aegon's torments from when they were younger, it seemed.

Yes. I was knighted only a year after you had left." Aemon said, then paused and continued, "Our royal uncle bestowed it upon me then."

Aegon hummed in acceptance. His own jealousy had bled away by now. Instead, he was filled with a thrum of excitement as he remembered his own accomplishments. And his greatest one waited for them back at the First Magister's manse, unknown to everyone.

After a few more minutes of riding in silence, the group reached the Manse. The guards bowed as they entered the courtyard in front of the manse but Aegon paid them no heed. His excitement was mounting. He had hidden his secret treasure from everyone in the Company for the past year. Not even Ser Oscar knew of this. And now, finally, he would reveal it to Lord Alyn and Aemon. He would watch their astonishment and awe as they realized that he had achieved what even Jaehaerys the Conciliator had failed to do.

The group had reached the doors of manse and dismounted. Caegal Nograthien stood there, with his wife and his household retinue. Aegon looked at his bride. She was clad in the finest of shimmering samite, but that was obvious. It would not do for the daughter of the First Magister to have any less. But it was her face that drew his attention.

She was veiled. Her face was covered with a veil of thin Myrish gauze and yet Aegon could make out some of her features from within. The partial view he got was tantalizing and Aegon tried to catch her eye. She looked down, playing the part of the shy bride, but Aegon knew how she could be when they were alone together. And now, seeing her, with her head bowed down, and face veiled, as with the Lysene customs, something within Aegon stirred, some feeling he had not felt for a long while.

Aegon was lost in her beauty and grace and missed Caegal stepping forward to offer his guests bread and salt. Velaryon nodded in approval at the Westerosi custom. It meant that this marriage might not be how Viserys and Larra's had been. Aemon and Velaryon took some of the bread and salt and thus availed themselves of their guest rights. Aemon nudged Aegon, breaking out of his stupor. Aegon reddened, embarrassed at being caught and cleared his throat.

"Aemon! Lord Alyn! Before you retire to the rooms prepared for you, I would ask for you to come with me. There is a matter of serious import that I need to speak with you about. That is, providing that the Lord Nograthien allows for me to take his guests away from him," Aegon said. He sent a smile towards Caegal.

"Of course. Of course. You are family too now, young prince. These guests are yours just as much as they are mine. You can show them what you wish. And your brother, of course. He is to be family too. I shall want to meet him once. After your work is done," Caegal said.

Aemon nodded his assent and Aegon led them to his chambers while the servants put his brother's and Lord Alyn's baggage in their chambers. As Aegon was walking, he flagged an idle servant and ordered him to get some wine to his chambers. The trio then made their way to Aegon's chambers. Aegon led them over to where his chest was and opened. They peered inside.

The chest held a lot of things. It held Aegon's armour and the harness he used to put his mace on his horse's saddle. It also held some of Aegon's gold, though Ser Oscar also held a significant amount. Aegon's chest also held the ledgers containing the payments for the men in the Company as well as lists of members who had joined on a temporary basis. And at the very bottom of his chest, beneath sheaves of papers was a sack. A sack of Aegon's most precious treasures.

Aegon pushed the papers aside and took out the bag. He placed it on a table in his chambers and Aemon and Lord Alyn looked at it curiously. Aegon opened the bag and pulled down it's sided to expose the treasures within. Aemon and Lord Alyn gasped. Just then, the servant entered with the wine and Aegon quickly waved him away, before walking over and closing the door and then barring it shut.

"Aegon, where did you get those from?" Lord Alyn asked. His words were carefully chosen but Aegon sensed some urgency in the tone.

"These were stolen, Lord Alyn. Stolen from us, many years ago. Do you recall Elyssa Farman?" Aegon asked. The pride he held for his act was evident in his voice.

"You fool! You stole these from Braavos, didn't you?" Lord Alyn thundered.

"Stole? These our property. It is the Braavosi who are the thieves. Upjumped slaves is all they are and they sought to control the blood of the dragon with these. Well, no more," Aegon said. He could not understand why Lord Alyn was angry at him. He had done this for the sake of his family. To regain their honour. To right a wrong. And this was what he got?

"Don't be stupid on purpose Aegon. I know you are cleverer than this. What possessed you to do such a thing?" Lord Alyn asked.

"Stupid! How am I stupid for rescuing Targaryen treasures, stolen from us? And when the Old King asked for them to be handed over, the filthy Braavosi lied to us and hid our treasures," Aegon spat out.

"The Braavosi already suspect something Aegon. They have expelled our ambassador nearly a year ago and they are also hosting the Dornish ambassador quite frequently. Do any of the members of the Company know of this?," Aemon asked.

"If anyone of the Company knows, then it's as good as the Braavosi knowing it. All it would take is one sponge blabbing in a drunken haze at some winesink," Lord Alyn said.

"You think very less of me, my lord. No one knows. Not even Ser Oscar," Aegon said coldly.

Lord Alyn sighed and rubbed at his forehead, thinking of what to do. "When Aemon and I go back to Westeros, we will be taking them with us. We cannot truly say how long your exile will least, yet. The King is sick and bedridden but shows no signs of giving up the ghost. Seven years haven't passed either. I believe that it would be safer for all involved to have the eggs taken out of Essos. And you won't be lugging them around wherever you go," Lord Alyn said, addressing.

"Very well then. You can take the eggs with you when you go back to Westeros after the marriage. These eggs, Aemon, you can give to your children, for their cradles," Aegon said.

"Father has already gotten eggs from Dragonstone for my children. Both Jaehaerys and Rhaenys have their own eggs and neither of them hatched. I fear that we may have lost our dragons permanently. I had hoped that my children would be able to hatch the eggs they had and lift this curse we have," Aemon said, despondently.

"Perhaps, the eggs from Dragonstone have died. It is why we seem unable to hatch any of the eggs. Our own eggs didn't hatch in our cradles and neither did the eggs of our cousins. Take these with you, when you go back. Give one to your next child. Give another to Daeron's children. Keep one for my own children. Perhaps we can have three more Dragonriders by the time we are old," Aegon said. He smiled at Aemon who smiled back at him.

Aegon gathered the eggs back into the bag and handed them over to Aemon who took them. Then, Aemon and Lord Alyn left the room, intent on securing their newfound treasure.

Just as they had left Ser Oscar entered Aegon's chambers.

"Well lad, you are to be married tomorrow. Why, it is almost as if you came to join the Company just yesterday and now we are nearing the end of your exile," he said, smiling slightly.

"Not only me, Ser, but even you should be glad to be going back to Westeros after so long," Aegon said.

"Yes, yes. It has been a while. I wonder if my brother would want for me to get married or something mundane like that," Ser Oscar said, sighing dramatically.

"Nothing so serious, I should think," Aegon replied and continued. "Even if the Lord Tully were to order you to get married, I could ask Daeron to grant you a keep in Dorne once we win. The rewards would be great and I'd ensure you'd get your share."

Ser Oscar laughed. "I am glad to hear that. I might take you up on it too after we go back to Westeros. But that is a discussion for another day. I came here with a purpose in mind and I'd have it done quick," he said.

"What is it then, Ser? Have you any need of me right now?" Aegon asked.

"Yes. Now, kneel," Ser OScar said, his voice losing the humour it had earlier and taking on a more authoritative tone.

Aegon was confused for a moment before he grasped Ser Oscar's meaning and got a giddy smile on his face. Prince Aegon Targaryen knelt before Ser Oscar Tully and when he rose a few minutes later he was Ser Aegon Targaryen.

The wedding feast was loud, noisy and rowdy and that was how Aegon liked it best. In the ballroom in the First Magister's manse, all of the guests had gathered just after the marriage ceremony to partake in the celebrations of the union of Aegon Targaryen and Serenei of Lys. Caegal had long tables set up across the breadth of the hall, allowing for a large number of guests to feast even as many others danced in the hall to music by many musicians that Caegal had brought from as far North as Braavos and as far East as Qarth. The Volantene musicians set the tune for the couples dancing on the floor even as the minstrels from Pentos and Braavos sang their praises of the newly married couple.

Some Pentoshi had just finished showing off his verses flattering Serenei when Aemon, who had been sitting to Aegon's side, spoke up.

"Your bride looks like how I remember mother looked like," Aemon said.

"How you remember mother looks like?" Aegon asked, incredulously. "You were barely three namedays old when she left us. How could you even remember?"

"Don't be so dismissive. I remember how mother looked like. And I'm sure even you do. Speak truthfully. Because from where I'm sitting, the resemblance is uncanny," Aemon replied.

"Even if I did remember what mother looked like, and I don't, I would not tell you if my wife looked like our her. Which she doesn't. So keep your half-witted opinions to yourself or I'll gut you here and make sure you keep them to yourself," Aegon said, irritated. Aemon chuckled.

"Don't worry, I won't breathe a word," Aemon said while patting Aegon on the back as if in sympathy. Aegon shrugged off Aemon's hand in irritation and flagged a slave to refill his cup with some strong ale. From his other side, Serenei laid a hand on his arm.

"Aegon. Perhaps, not drink so much. We have tonight to do, no," she said in a broken Common Tongue, smirking. Unwittingly, Aegon lowered the cup. Over the years that he had spent in Essos, quite a few were spent in Lys. Ser Oscar had wanted him to spend time with his betrothed. He told how very few would get the opportunity to know who they were marrying and that Aegon should not squander such a chance.

Whenever Aegon spoke with Serenei, especially over the past few years, after she had flowered, it seemed as if she wove a sort of magic with her words. At first, Aegon attributed this to her native tongue. The Lyseni language was a very beautiful one and Aegon felt that their words just slid off the speaker's tongues. But now, even after she spoke to him in the Common Tongue, there seemed to be some magic in her words. Something that drew him in. And Aegon liked that.

He turned to Serenei and smiled. "Why don't we retire to our chambers right now, my lady? It seems very tedious to sit through all of this. We can leave and let my brother take care of the mess," Aegon said.

Serenei laughed. It was pleasant, musical laugh and it sent an image of the tinkling of the little bells that smallfolk girls used to weave into their hair back in Westeros into Aegon's mind. Aegon's smile fell as he was suddenly gripped with an immediate desire to go back to Westeros. He found himself seized by emotion as his heart ached for home. At that moment, all Aegon wanted was to be back in the Red Keep's yard and play at swords with Aemon and Daeron. All of this fighting and travelling and everything seemed very tedious now. He could not bear to wait until his uncle died or until the seven years were up and all of that nonsense. Just then, Caegal, who had been sitting to Serenei's side leaned forward to speak with Lord Alyn who was sitting beside Aemon.

"You are sure of it, my lord? Braavos will turn hostile to our interests, then?" Caegal asked.

"Yes. Perhaps Myr can be induced to support us against Tyrosh. They are not particularly strong, navally or otherwise, but they hold deep resentment against Tyrosh and Dorne since the Daughter's War. We could promise them some of the Disputed Lands, if it should come to that," Lord Alyn replied.

"Myr will be useless in any war," Caegal replied, " They were gutted last time and still haven't recovered. It feels like they're sitting on their asses and doing nothing. The Conclave even stopped trying to defend against the Dothraki. All they do is pay them with gold and slaves when they come around, like some tribute to an overlord and think they've done something grand. No, Lord Velaryon, Myr is not an ally Lys would like, nor is it one we would prefer."

Aegon jumped into the conversation just then. "Pentos!" he declared and continued before anyone could question him. "We ought to induce Pentos to move against Braavos. They have grown overconfident after their recent victories. If we are able to tie up all the bigger Free Companies near the Disputed Lands, Bravos would be easy pickings. They've come so far down south and even claimed the Andal coastlands as the 'Braavosi Coastline'." Aegon felt triumphant at having provided such an elegant solution. Lord Alyn frowned, wondering whether such a thing would work. Caegal seemed to consider Aegon's words and then spoke.

"It could work," Caegal said. He paused, stroking his chin, thinking on possible outcomes. "Braavos's navy must be drawn South. Their strength at Sea should not be at play, or rather should count for very little. Pentos would not be able to hold out against Braavos if they start to land troops."

He was stopped from speaking further as someone approached their table, looking to speak with Aegon and Serenei. Aegon turned to look and saw Ser Harrold Ryger of the Company with what looked like an old woman in tow.

"My prince," Ser Harrold said, bowing deeply, "I am yet to present my gift in celebration of your marriage. I am of no great wealth. But I have brought something that might be more valuable."

"Is it the old woman, Ser?" Aemon asked from Aegon's side. "We do not take slaves, lest you forget, Ser Knight. We keep to the Seven and we have been ordained by our gods to shun slavery. So should you, having been anointed a knight in light of the Seven." Aemon frowned.

"I am no slaver, your grace. I hold to the Seven, truer than most folk have become after leaving our lands for this foreign soil," Ser Ryger said. He turned to address Aegon. "My prince, I was a child when the Dance ended, barely 7 namedays old. My father had died in the fighting and my uncle was now lord of the Keep. I could not stay back there, near my home, living off of my uncle's scraps."

"One day I was riding near Harrenhal with my companions. We had gone into the small woods adjoining the God's eye when we came upon a crude shack. A woodswitch lived there, my prince, and she told me my future. She told me that I would not realize my destiny unless I left the Riverlands for someplace far away, beyond the reach of my uncle. And it is now, after having served you that I realized that it was true. Serving under you has given me riches, glory and much more. So, this is my gift to you, my prince. Behold, your future."

Aegon leaned forward and watched with bated breath as the old woman came forward. Aemon scoffed from beside Aegon and Serenei gripped Aegon's hand tightly under the table as the woman reached them. The woman herself was horribly old, her skin wrinkly and sagging, liver spots dotting her face and her hair so thin she could have been bald. The woman stopped just as she touched the table Aegon and the others were seated at and made a sort of half bow, half curtsey.

"What nonsense is this? Seeing the future? Men are not made for such things, Ser Knight. This is heresy," Aemon exploded. Aegon's tension was mounting. He was gripped by a vigorous itch to find out his destiny. The path lay just in front of him. He shushed Aemon with a wave of his hand and motioned for the witch to continue.

She spoke something in her own language, which was not Lyseni, nor any other Valyrian dialect and motioned towards Aegon. Aegon, who did not understand what she had just said, turned to Ser Harrold. Ser Harrold made her repeat it once more before translating.

"Your hand, my prince. She asks for your hand," Ser Harrold clarified. Aegon chucked before withdrawing his hand from Serenei's grasp and presenting it to the old woman.

"What, will she read my palm?" Aegon asked, half japing.

The woman held Aegon's palm with one hand and with the other she reached into the folds of the long, layered dress she wore. Aemon and Serenei tensed from either side of him and Ser Deny Bracken, who stood behind Ser Harrold, with a package of his own, drifted his hand to the pommel of the dagger at his hip. Aegon rolled his eyes at their paranoia and refocused his attention on the woman. She had withdrawn a needle from within her robes and Aegon's attention caught on that. It was of a deep black and seemed to have a glossy shine to it in the torchlit hall.

"Dragonbone…" Aemon whispered from Aegon's side.

The woman held Aegon's hand firmly and pricked his index finger with the dragonbone needle. A drop of blood slowly welled at the place where Aegon had been pricked and the witch pinched it, drawing more blood. Aegon hissed at her action, but the witch ignored him, seemingly transfixed by the slowly accumulating blood. Once she deemed that enough blood had been let, she put the finger in her mouth and sucked at it, drinking the blood.

At once, she let go of Aegon's hand and took a step back, staggering. Her eyes went wide and her hands trembled from where she held them to her chest. She was muttering something under her breath in her own language and Ser Harrold leaned down to hear her. The witch was in a stupor however and her words were incomprehensible to everyone there. A small tendril of unease crept into Aegon's heart at this display. Then, the woman spoke in High Valyrian, in broken snippets. Aegon could only understand little of what broken Valyrian she spoke.

"Prince … King … Prince … Death … " she raved, over and over. Ser Oscar, who Aegon had just noticed, pushed through the small crowd that had gathered at the table.

"That's enough out of you," he barked at the witch. Then he turned to Ser Harrold. "Is this what you wanted to achieve? Get her out of here before she spells all of our's doom, you fool," he shouted at Ser Harrold. Ser Harrold took the witch by the elbow and dragged her out, suitably chastised. The spectacle finished, the guests turned back to their own business, thinking it was some form of entertainment or som even gossiping about her prediction wondering who the prince and king were or who would die.

Aegon himself was shaken. What did the witch mean when she spoke? Was the King in some danger? Or was it Daeron? Would he have a chance to prevent their death? Aegon could not put the thought out of his mind. Here he had a chance to protect someone of his family from a possible death and all he had to do was to figure out what the witch had said. Lost as he was in his thoughts, he did not notice when Ser Denys Bracken stepped forward, eager to present his offering.

"My prince, I have for you the bounty of the east," he announced pompously. Aegon waved his hand absently and Denys hastened to display his gift. He unwrapped the package and inside was a length of shimmering, bluish cloth.

"True silk, my prince. From the Far East in Yi-Ti and Leng. Not the pale imitations that the Myrish strive to produce but only the most perfect production," Ser Denys announced. Aegon, however, was too lost in his thoughts and barely responded. Serenei noticed his state and spoke in his stead.

"We thank you, Ser Denys. It is truly a worthy gift," Serenei said graciously. Ser Denys puffed up in pride and went back to his place seemingly satisfied at having shown his devotion.

Ser Denys was followed by Ser Jon Harte who had brought a mechanical dragon from Lorath which moved around the table after Ser Jon had turned a key embedded into it's back. Serenei played the part of the graceful lady and accepted their gifts even as Aegon turned the witch's words in his head.

And so the night went on, with many Lyseni magisters coming forward to present their own offerings to their First Magister's daughter. Beside Aegon, Aemon slowly got more and more drunk and Aegon watched detachedly as Aemon withdrew more and more into himself as he drank. Aegon was about to say something to Aemon when Caegal Nograthien stood up to speak. Caegal looked around the room, waiting for the din to die down. Then, he spoke.

"The bedding!" he announced and Serenei was led away by her own entourage of ladies-in-waiting and some of the favoured slaves even as Aegon was led away by his own men. They muttered drunkenly underneath their breath as they led Aegon around the manse.

"'Tis not right. A bedding should mean we take the bride and the women take the groom. And why do we need to parade the groom around the manse anyway? That's a whole load of work," someone complained. Aemon, was also part of the group that was leading Aegon around the manse shushed the one who had spoken, while Aegon chuckled.

"These are their customs and we're going to follow them while we are here," Aegon said and the men seemed to accept this.

Eventually, the men finished their circuit of the manse and deposited Aegon outside the doors to the bride's rooms. Aegon pushed the doors open and entered to find Serenei sitting on the bed, wearing a silken shift and nothing else. He smiled and went to greet her, placing a hand on her shoulders as he reached her.

Aegon was woken from his sleep as he heard an urgent banging on the door.

"My prince. You are needed. A matter of great import has come up," someone from outside said through the door.

Aegon groggily sat up on the bed, extricating himself from Serenei's embrace as she lay sleeping beside him. She stirred as he got up and he leant down to whisper in her ear.

"I'll be back. My men have need of me," he said. Serenei did not wake up and grunted, drawing the covers around herself as she slumbered on.

Aegon looked around, noticing that the room was still dark. If he had to estimate, it was around the hour of the bat and the sun would not rise for a few more hours yet. The hour was very late, or very early depending on how one looked at it. Aegon groped blindly around the room for his hose and a tunic and was putting them on when the door banged once more.

"Aegon? Lad, come out quick. Something terrible has happened." It was Ser Oscar. Aegon suddenly felt a jolt of anticipation and fear shoot through him. He opened the door and went outside and saw Ser Oscar and Ser Jon waiting for him.

"What is it? What happened?" Aegon asked.

"It is your brother, my prince. A servant tried to steal the dragon eggs … " Ser Jon started.

Aegon felt as if a ball of lead was dropped into his gut. He did not wait to hear the rest and ran. He ran all the way to Aemon's chambers. A small group was gathered outside of his brother's doors and a slave was lighting the sconces around throwing the scene into stark illumination. Lord Alyn and Caegal stood outside the room, with a few of the household guards talking in hushed voices. Lord Alyn looked up when Aegon approached and spoke his voice tinged with sorrow.

"Aegon … ," he greeted, but Aegon was too far gone to care and pushed through the men to enter the room and suddenly stopped cold in his tracks, his heart unwilling to believe what his eyes saw.

The room looked as if a storm had blown through with all of its items strewn about. There were clear signs of a fight and Aegon could even see blood spilt on the walls. And in the middle of the room, lying in a pool of blood, motionless, was Aemon.

Aegon reached him and fell to his knees beside where Aemon lay, touching Aemon gingerly with one hand, trying to shake him awake. Aemon remained unresponsive and some part of Aegon understood what had happened but a better part of him denied it. He shuffled closer on his knees and took Aemon's head onto his lap, cradling it, even as tears fell from his own eyes.

"Brother, Aemon, what are you doing?" he whispered. "Is this a jape? I do not find this very funny. And neither would Naerys if she were here. Come on, get up. Let us go back to Westeros, back home. Your children are waiting for you. Aemon…"

Aemon remained still. Aegon found that he was shaking and then realized that he was sobbing, and clutched Aemon closer to his chest even as his tears came out faster. Someone, perhaps Lord Alyn, put a hand on his shoulder, but he did not care. All he cared for was Aemon and Aemon was dead.

It must have been only a few seconds or perhaps an hour, Aegon could not tell which. He was aware of some disturbance near him. He looked up and saw the hulking form of Ser Jon Harte holding up someone by the scruff of his collar. The man was clearly injured and was bleeding profusely from multiple wounds on his body. He was barely responsive and just lolled about as Ser Jon shook him roughly. With a jolt, Aegon realized that this was the servant who had served him wine just yesterday.

Rage bubbled through Aegon like a spring and his hand went around the nearest weapon he could find, Dark Sister. He got up, pushed Ser Jon aside and skewered the man in the heart where he was slumped against the wall. He twitched a few times before died. Just as he died Aegon, and the others who were in the room, bore witness to the man's features as they changed. It looked as if a stream of water washed away the man's face, and as he died he took the form of another.

"A Faceless Man … " Ser Oscar whispered. Ser Denys, who Aegon had just noticed, crossed himself with the seven-pointed star even as Ser Jon took a step back in fright.

"Why?" Aegon asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. "What do they have against Aemon? He should have killed me in Aemon's stead and I would have died gladly."

"The eggs, Aegon," Lord Alyn said. "Perhaps he was told that he had to kill the one who held the eggs and bring them back."

"No one knew you had them. You were too far away while on the battlefield the past year. Now was the only chance they had," Ser Oscar said.

Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but all Aegon felt was despair. He looked to Aemon's form lying on the ground and only then noticed the eggs beside him. All three were safe and Aemon had paid for that with his life. The eggs shone in the light from the corridor, covered as they were in Aemon's blood.

A/N: Do let me know your thoughts. Any feedback is appreciated.