King Aemon I Targaryen

Another war was decided on the turbulent waters of the Trident, eighteen years ago it was the war of the dragons, and Blackfyre and Dark Sister met for the one and only time in their history in combat, Blackfyre emerged triumphant then. On the fifth day of the fifth month of the 300th year after Aegon's Landing another battle was fought, this time between the forces of Maegor Brightflame the pretender to the Iron Throne and King Aemon Targaryen the King on the Iron Throne. Maegor Brightflame came into this battle having lost his hold over Riverrun, his forces bled dry in the Reach and his forces in the Stormlands gone or turned to dust. This was his final battle the one that would determine whether or not he would win. For such an important battle one would have thought Brightflame would have wanted to use all of his important weapons, but this was not the case. His wife the red witch Melisandre had been left behind in their camp, for Maegor did not want men to say that his victory was won by her.

It would turn out to be the nail in his coffin. All these months later and Aemon can still remember the first cry of battle, his host of 15,000 Crownlords and the host that Brightflame had assembled some 14,000 men met in heated battle. Aemon fought like the warrior on that day or so he was told, hacking and slashing his way through men, battle hardened men and the supposed best fighters in the whole of Essos. They all fell to his blade and the blades of his men like they were nothing more than sacks of meat, Aemon had learnt over time that that was all anyone really was, a sack of meat with a limited lifespan. That was what had made it easier for him to continue to cut through the men and their cries and the blood.

Gods the blood had been something, he had thought the Trident had been bad but it seemed as if the gods wanted to play a joke on them all, the fewer men did not mean less blood in fact it seemed to mean more. More and more men died and more blood was added to the water of the river, and the fighting continued. Aemon hacked his way through men keeping an eye on his sons Maekar and Laenor as well as Aegon, the fighting continued, through the tides Aemon fought, his blade was bloody and his adrenaline was keeping him going through the shock of it all.

He felt invincible none could touch him that day, none could lay a sword or a weapon on him he cut them all down to bloody swathes. The gods sought fit to bring him face to face with the pretender Maegor Brightflame was slight of build and lithe in person but bulky and bull like in armour. A fierce fighter with a big greatsword, they met in a clash of steel, sparks ignited from the contact of their swords, on and on they fought strength against skill. Brightflame was strong, Aemon would give him that but he had lacked patience, Aemon ducked some of his more fierce swings and predicted some of the rest and found a chink in his technique exploiting it to the full, though his invincibility lessened as he did so. He received a fair few blows and dents and for a time it felt as if he was fighting on autopilot but eventually he triumphed, whereas against Rhaegar their fight had been elegant and sung about, this was a scarp pure and simple. At the end with a thrust and slash Maegor Brightflame fell to his death on the banks of the Trident.

His men broke rank once they realised their king was dead, but this time Aemon would not let fall back to their ships, he had seen the destruction they had wrought in Maidenpool, he had vengeance in his heart when he ordered the chase of the enemy. A butchery that was what the Brightflame host's retreat became, the river became the anvil, Aemon's army the hammer, and the blood stained the river red, and then green, the banks grew and once it was done there were no soldiers left standing from the Brightflame's side. Aemon was not done though, he led his remaining men to the Brightflame camp and there judgement was passed.

Maegor Brightflame's commanders and brothers and uncles alike were trialled and executed, some were hung drawn and quartered, most died pleading for mercy others died silent and some even died fighting. All died though, and then when it came to the red whore, Melisandre of Asshai, Aemon hesitated for a moment, on the one hand this woman was an enemy, the enemy queen and a shadow binder besides, but on the other she was also a mother, and her children were across the narrow sea could he truly afford to make them orphans?

He debated the issue for some time, some of his commanders, those that were left argued for her death, others such as Velaryon argued she be spared saying the gods would not look favourably on the death of an innocent woman. It was Tywin who finally made the decision for Aemon. The lion of the west informed him that the woman had been plotting the death of Ashara and their children, and that she had caused most of the devastation along the riverlands with her fires and her 'power.' The woman did not deny it merely stating that Aemon had doomed the world with the slaying of Maegor Brightflame. For all her ethereal being, she died screaming like any other person when Aemon had her fed to her own flames, a night fire and an example for those who would turn traitor. The war was done but winter was just settling in.

Aemon had returned home to the news that Brandon and the northmen had defeated the wildlings and that other threat at the wall, and that the north was now in the process of healing. And that Brandon was considering allowing the wildlings to settle on parts of the gift as well as in other parts of the north. Aemon questioned the wisdom of this move, but Brandon assured him that these wildlings who were left were largely women and children, the children could be put to good use on the land, and so Aemon acquiesced though there was something about it all that bothered him.

"My love? Are you well?" Ashara asked and Aemon snapped out of his reverie. He looked around and saw he was not on the battlefield no he was in King's Landing in the gardens with his wife.

"What... yes sorry Ash. I was just thinking is all." Aemon replied.

"About what my love? Do you need Pycelle?" Ashara asked.

Though the question was asked sincerely and well meant, of course it was it was Ashara after all, Aemon could not help but feel a twinge of annoyance he was not some boy that needed help after a bad dream, he was a man gods damn it. Aloud he merely said. "No my love, it wasn't one of those. I was just thinking about the war that is all."

Ashara did not seem all that convinced though. "Pycelle did say that if you start feeling anxious to come and see him. If you need to go, go and I will keep an eye on the children."

Aemon rolled his eye. "I'm fine Ashara seriously. It wasn't a dream I was just thinking that is all. Besides I do not think we can trust young Joffrey with Samaira just yet, something about him reminds me too much of Cersei."

Aemon saw his wife look at their daughter Samaira walking with Joffrey Arryn, with Ser Lucas Corbray walking a short distance behind them in the gardens. "I don't think he's as bad as Cersei was at his age. Hells Maekar is not as bad as you were when you were his age my love. He certainly pines after Allyria but not as badly as you did for me." She teased.

Aemon huffed then and out the corner of his eye he saw Arthur repressing a laugh. "I was not all that bad surely Ashara? Maekar pines after his wife like a love sick puppy. I at least had the grace to act like the king when I courted you. And do not deny it, you were flattered and enamoured with me just as much as I was with you."

"If you say so my love." Ashara said before yelping as Aemon began tickling her.

"Your Grace," Morris Rykker Aemon's squire said nervously, stopping Aemon from kissing his wife as he so badly wanted to. "Lord Tywin is without."

Aemon sighed. "Very well send him in." Morris bowed and then hurried out to bring the hand of the king in. Tywin Lannister had served as the hand of the king for thirty years now, and had served as lord of the rock for thirty four, he emanated power, and he was one of Aemon's closest advisors. "Ah Lord Tywin, I trust your journey back home went well?"

"Indeed it did Your Grace. Jaime and Lady Rhaena send their love as do the children. You wished to speak with me Your Grace?" Tywin replied, his voice giving nothing away though he must have returned from the Rock but half an hour ago.

"I do, I apologise for asking you here when you have just returned and I know you must be tired but I have one small thing to ask of you." Aemon said.

"Of course Your Grace," Tywin replied. "What would you have of me?"

"I need you to look through the old reports that Varys compiled of the Brightflames and I want you to burn them." Aemon said.

"Burn them Your Grace?" Tywin asked confused.

"Aye. Something the man said to us before the war does not add up, but I do not want anyone getting their hands on this information. None should know it exists. And also, read through the notes your daughter sent us about Baelish. There is something I want to try between those two snakes." Aemon replied.

"Of course Your Grace. Do you wish for me to keep the notes on the red witch?" Tywin asked.

Aemon turned and looked at his hand then and said. "Aye my lord."

Tywin bows and then walks out of the gardens, once his footsteps have died, Ashara turns to Aemon and snuggling up to him asks. "Why did you want the letters and accordance Varys has of the Brightflames burnt really my love?"

Aemon strokes her hair and then says. "Because I do not trust Varys. The man comes from nothing and yet he knows everything. I am not sure how this is possible, but it is and I do not want him having more power than he needs to. I have already dealt with one Valyrian who thought he was too big for me, and he died. Varys needs not die."

"If you do not trust him why keep him? Why not give him over to Oberyn to deal with?" Ashara teased.

Aemon hummed as his wife began kissing his jaw and then nipping his ear. "Because, if I did that, then all the information I need would disappear, and though Varys is evil, he is a good kind of evil. Not like the other snakes that Aerys dealt with during his own reign."

"I see. And what of me my king? What am I?" Ashara asked coyly.

"You my lady, are mine. And I intend to devour you the minute these children are done with their courting." Aemon growled.

Ashara laughed and swatted his arm, and then said. "Oh is that so my love? Then you must show me and soon, for I have something I want to show you as well."

Peace, a joyful thing, it brings out the best in most, and in others, well its best not to think about them.