King Aemon I Targaryen
His eye stung, or rather the gap where his right eye used to be stung. Ever since that gods damned blade had cut his eye out, the gap it had left behind alternated between a numb feeling and excruciating pain. Maester Geribald the maester at the Rock had given him an ointment to apply to the outer eye that he said might help with the pain, and to be fair his eye had not hurt so much at the Rock as it did now, though whether that was because he had stopped applying the ointment or because Ashara was no longer there to comfort him when the pain got too much he was not sure.
He had not seen his wife nor his son for a year now, they had left in the early days of last year when it had all still seemed so unreal, his son would be about a year old now, nearly two if he remembered correctly. He had been in King's Landing when his son had been born, trying unsuccessfully to remove Aerys from power. All that had brought him was this current war, no matter how many times Brandon or Elbert told him that the war would have been inevitable anyway, he felt responsible if he had acted before Harrenhal perhaps none of this mess would have happened.
He shook his head and his eye throbbed with pain once more. Since that day they had set out from the Rock with 30,000 swords Tywin and Jaime Lannister by his side, they had gone to Riverrun where they had been joined by the Starks and the might of the north. Hoster Tully had done what he had not done before the war, he had declared for Aemon. Brandon the younger had wed Catelyn Tully the eldest of Hoster's two daughters, with Lysa Tully marrying Andar Royce in the sept at Riverrun. The ceremonies had dragged on a bit, and the feast afterwards had seemed to teem with forced joy, Aemon was of the opinion that they should have been planning for war not celebrating a wedding, and that Hoster Tully should have declared for him from the start and not forced two weddings before declaring. He would remember that for the rest of his days, and he would make the old man remember it as well.
With the weddings out of the way they had set about planning their next move. Aerys had appointed Lord Owen Merryweather his hand, the man was nothing but a soothsayer and as such the man was ill-equipped to lead the army he had been given. The true threat was the man who would be commanding Merryweather's van, Lord Jon Connington, a fierce warrior and proud and smart. It was agreed that their forces would not all deploy at once, some men would be left to hold Riverrun and the Lion's pass, whilst others would circumvent round the Red Fork and flank the rebel host. This had been done, with Lord Hoster being the man to lead his riverlords all 11,000 of them around the Red Fork and smashing the left side of the rebel host to pieces. Aemon had taken command of some 12,000 men a mixture of westermen and Valemen and marched to High Heart where the main battle had occurred between his host and the right of Lord Merryweather's host, which was commanded by Merryweather himself.
Looking back on it now the victory over the Merryweather's own part of the army had been far too easy; it was almost as if Merryweather had been instructed to lose. His men had been slaughtered and he had led Aemon on a goose chase around the fringes of the Children's wood, before eventually being slain in single combat, Aemon had returned with Merryweather's head, to find the ground where his men and the rebel right had fought a smoking ruin but with his men, Ser Jaime and Lord Tywin especially, huddled round a body. For a minute he feared that something terrible had happened, and then squashed that but one look at Jaime's face and his fears came rushing back. He had pushed past the two men and stood in shock and horror as he looked down at the body of his brother Baelon.
He would later here of how the rebel's van and centre had joined together to form a wheel formation, one that continuously rotated preventing any of Aemon's generals from breaking the rebel host and making them flee. His brother having learnt of this tactic from their uncle as a child had volunteered himself as the one who would be able to break the wheel, and give them the prisoners they wanted. Desperate for anyway to break the wheel, Tywin and the other commanders had agreed, and so Baelon had cut through most of the ground soldiers and then had broken the first three fronts of the wheel, but because he had gone so quickly he had not given Tywin or anyone else the chance to come and back him up. His brother ended up being massacred in the fifth and final front of the wheel by Jon Connington, Lord Chelstead, Lord Celtigar, Lord Bar Emmon and Lord Massey.
Connington had eventually been captured and Celtigar and Emmon slain, Massey had fled with the remenants of Merryweather's host back to King's Landing. But Aemon was angry and grieving, his brother had died needlessly and he had followed his own selfish path to chase glory and kill Merryweather on his own, he should have been with his brother. Still he got his chance for revenge a few moons later when camped at Rushing Falls, a host led by Ser Preston Greenfield of Aerys Kingsguard came charging towards them, Aemon had the entire army butchered sparing not a soul, in vengeance for what had happened to his brother.
They had been camped at Rushing Falls ever since, seeing off bandits and any stray rebels that came their way. News had been thin at first but then it picked up. They learnt of the battles in the Stormlands of Robert Baratheon's death and Rhaegar's re-emergence, of Mace Tyrell's death and the capture of Highgarden. And they learnt of how Rhaegar was now amassing men from the remaining Crownland forces and with the host of reachmen not in the south and Dornish spears and marching towards the Trident, or towards them. Ser Gerold had returned from their search for Lyanna Stark, according to them the girl had been in Vulture's Roost with that mad old woman Dallyria Targaryen, the daughter of Daeron the drunkard. The girl was pregnant with Rhaegar's child and claimed she wanted to keep the child and wanted Rhaegar spared; at least the two knights had had the good sense to keep the girl in Nightsong and away from any other potential threats, as Ser Oswell was with her.
"Your Grace?" he hears a voice ask. "Your Grace are you well?" this time he recognises the voice. It's Tywin Lannister pulling him back to reality.
Aemon shakes his head and sees Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime, Lord Rickard, Brandon, Lord Hoster, Lord Jon and Elbert all looking at him concern on their faces. He realises then that he must have gone away again, and that they all must think him mad or touched. He sighs. "I am fine my lord. Now what were you saying?"
Lord Tywin makes what could be a smile before saying. "Our scouts report that Rhaegar Targaryen has finally moved from King's Landing and has made camp on the eastern bank of the Trident. With him he has some 30,000 men made up of reachmen, Stormlords, Dornishmen and men from the crownlands."
Aemon nods and then asks. "Why did he not just come here to Rushing Falls if he has so many men? Surely he knows how long it would take for our host to assemble affectively to mount a retaliatory attack."
Lord Hoster speaks then, his voice soothing through the nerves wracking Aemon. "Because Your Grace, to attack a host on the falls would require some secrecy and much forward planning. Skills that we have seen Prince Rhaegar does not have. He will stake his army on the fact that we cannot play the waiting game anymore than he can, and that we will march for the Trident to face him in battle."
Aemon ponders this for a moment before asking. "So then, if we do not want to fall into any trap my cousin would set for us, what would you suggest we do then Lord Hoster?"
The man is silent for a moment before he replies. "Well I would suggest sending men who know the area well enough to lead a foraging campaign to draw Rhaegar's men out and have them set upon by the larger hosts. But considering my men did take a battering during the previous battle I would have to suggest another lead the forage."
Oh you clever man, get out of yet another blood bath whilst retaining the facade of loyalty. Aemon thought. Aloud he merely said. "Lord Rickard, you and yours fought bravely during the battle of High Heart. You and the northmen shall lead the foraging and draw my cousin out his hiding place."
"Yes Your Grace." Lord Rickard solemnly replies.
"Lord Hoster, I want your best men sent to aid the northmen as they go out and forage for us." Aemon says. Tully nods.
They set out a few hours later quick marching to make it to the western bank of the trident before the sun sets and winter comes. They arrive about five days later just as the sun is waning in the sky, and the air becomes chillier. The northmen managed to lead the Stormlords away from Rhaegar's camp striking out on their southern flank and butchering them near the God's Willow, some were injured but the rest were led back by Brandon to ensure they could fight in the remainder of the battle. Across the river, Aemon can see his cousin's banner flapping and he feels anger boil up inside of him, taking advantage of a little girl, a girl who will likely die giving birth to the child. What a fool, his cousin who for so long had been his hero is a fool, it saddens him that he will have to kill Rhaegar tomorrow.
Morning comes with the blowing of horns, and it seems as though the enemy has stirred first, they are tromping their way through the waters of the Trident towards them, Aemon is armour and ready to go in quick time, his heart pounding he puts on his dragon helm, mounts his red warhorse and then shouts for all to hear. "Let us kill these rebels and seat the rightful people back where they should be!" a cheer and then the battle commences. It is bloody carnage out there though they might outrank the rebels, the rebels are fighting as if they have nothing to lose and truly they don't their lost already. Aemon cuts through half the rebel forces he comes across, Blackfyre singing with the bloodshed, and then he cuts down two false white knights he will later learn their names to be Ser Boros Blount and Ser Meryn Trant.
The fighting continues, all around men are screaming and dying and crying, but he has eyes only for his cousin who has come in front of him, his black armour covered in blood and dirt. "Cousin," Rhaegar calls. "I had thought a peace could be had between us."
"Peace?" Aemon bellows. "Have you taken leave of your senses? I will have no peace with a rapist and a man whose father is a traitor. Prepare to die cousin."
He does not bother waiting for Rhaegar's response he spurs his horse on and charges at his cousin. For the first and only time in history, Blackfyre and Dark Sister fight each other in battle, and so the song begins again. Steel, sparks, hacks, cuts, blood, dirt, wounds, dents it all happens on the banks of the Trident, furiously paced, but on it goes as King Aemon using the advantages of youth swings and swings and swings, until his cousin is a bloody mess.
With one sharp thrust he pierces Rhaegar's armour, and then pulls out and pierces the armour again and again until his sword is drenched in blood and Rhaegar Targaryen no longer moves. On the third day of the second month of the 282nd year after Aegon's Landing, Aemon Targaryen kills Rhaegar Targaryen, and the war of dragons comes to a near close. Victory is insight, ad salutant regem.