Volantis 301 AC.
Rhaegar Targaryen.
It had been hard to have none of them here with him for the first time ever. Other than his niece and nephew, Goodsister, Goodaughter, as well as Elia, his entire family had been separated for the first time ever. Even on the few occasions when he'd led the First Army, and so he'd been far from home, he'd always taken comfort in the fact that his family was all together. Once Aemon had taken command of the Second Army, then it was only rarely that Rhaegar himself would need to march at all and so his family would join him should he be leaving Volantis for any reason.
So it had been hard for him to get used to waking in the morn and heading to their family dining rooms to break his fast, only to find it was to be just him and Elia who'd be there to do so. At other meals, they'd be joined by Talisa, Serra, and the children which rather than brought him true comfort, instead, only reinforced his worries for those who were not there with them. Each night when he'd eventually take to his bed, it would be after some time spent on his balcony looking to the sky in the hopes of seeing Caraxes or Tessarion return.
It was his son's dragon which turned out to be the first of those to make it back to Volantis and he was as relieved as Aegon's mother was to see him back and unharmed. He then found himself concerned, firstly that Aegon wished to speak to him before even his wife or mother and secondly by what his son told him once he did speak to him. Rhaegar was soon to find out to his shock that his son had fled Braavos in fear for his life and that Tycho Nestoris had lost his own just before he did so.
"You spoke to him before he died?" he asked as they sat in his solar.
"He was looking into who dealt with Khal Drogo's account and who the Imp of Casterly Rock had met, he never got to speak to me on either," Aegon said.
"You feared for your life?"
"If a man such as Tycho Nestoris can be killed in Braavos of all places, then not even I was safe there."
"And the Sealord?"
"Offered me the protection of the First Sword and was as Leal and true as we expect of him," Aegon said with no semblance of doubt in his words.
"You paid a visit to the House of Black and White too?" he asked to a nod of Aegon's head.
"Tyrion Lannister sought their services to see a prince dead." Aegon replied and Rhaegar felt the dragon in him wishing to be unleashed "Aemon, not me." his son added.
He had taken some comfort in that. Not that he favored Aegon's life over Aemon's, only that were they to target his younger son then they'd find themselves more than outmatched. Rhaegar did however take more comfort in the fact that they had simply rejected the offer and that the agreement that was struck between them and his House many years earlier still held true. After telling his son how proud he was of him and that as of yet he'd heard nothing from Viserys, he then bid Aegon to spend some time with his wife and to go and speak to his mother.
Despite his son wishing to get back to work and to formulate plans for how they'd react to the Lannisters seeking Aemon dead as well as what efforts they'd make in regards to finding out who killed Tycho Nestoris, Rhaegar took charge of those himself. He set Varys to task and bid him to bring him all he could find on the Lannisters and Tywin Lannister in particular, as well as all he had on the Iron Bank and its dealings.
A week after Aegon's return he was no nearer to finding out if the Lannister's reach stretched into Essos itself or if they had found an ally to help them carry out whatever plans they'd made. Nor whether or not it was two separate threats to his family and the Empire in general. He knew if he brought this to the High Council, questions would then be asked about whether or not Aemon's activities in Westeros had led to what had happened in Essos and they were questions he was not yet ready to answer. So he kept his discussions to himself and Aegon and both were relieved when Tessarion was finally sighted. As well as being surprised to see Syrax flying alongside the Blue Queen.
As much as he wished to travel to the Dragonpit to make certain his brother was unharmed, he knew that he had to play off Viserys' journey and return from it as being of little consequence. The wait for Viserys and Haegon to make their way from the Dragonpit to the Grand Palace was almost unbearable and Rhaegar was pacing his solar agitatedly when they both finally arrived. Before greeting his cousin, his eyes traveled over every inch of his brother's body and he was relieved to see that he bore no marks and was unharmed.
"Brother," he said happily as he and Viserys embraced.
"Uncle." he heard Aegon say as Rhaegar then welcomed Haegon.
"All went well?" he asked as they took their seats.
"The Sorrowful Men will be sorry no more, brother," Viserys said and Rhaegar looked at his brother with pride.
"You saw to their ends yourself?" Aegon asked.
"With Haegon and Baelon's help." Viserys said with a nod to their cousin "There is much we need to speak on, Rhaegar."
For the next few hours, he listened as Viserys told him that the Sorrowful Men had been hired by Tyrion Lannister to kill Aegon, confirming and not relieving his son's fears. Had it not been for his granduncle's presence, it would have been his son that he mourned so truly and once again he felt the dragon inside him wishing to be let loose. He listened in disbelief as Viserys told him of the letter that had been sent to Baelon and the divide it had sought to bring between Serra's brother and the Empire. How it sought to further the divide that had always existed between Viserys and his Goodbrother. Something which in turn named the sender of that letter someone who was well aware of their dynamic.
Little prepared him for the naming of the letter sender and he almost didn't believe his brother when he said it was Petyr Baelish who had done so. Had it not been for the death of Tycho Nestoris and the knowledge they now had about a Dothraki Khal owning a manse that none of them knew of, then he may not have believed it still. Yet it all lined up and explained much if not all that was occurring. Rhaegar was just about to speak on how he now believed these things had come to pass when Elia came rushing into the room.
"Aemon, Rhaegar," Elia said and Rhaegar felt his heart threaten to break as he now worried greatly for his son, so much so that he didn't hear what Elia said next nor did he truly take note of her mood.
"Father, Father?"
"I…"
"Aemon is here, father. the Blood Wyrm has just landed in the Dragonpit," Aegon said happily and Rhaegar let out the breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Unlike with Viserys, there was no need for pretense when it came to Aemon's arrival in Volantis. This couldn't be played off as just a normal thing or nothing of note. His son had been exiled for more than two years and not once had he or the Blood Wyrm been seen since then. There was no need for him to wait until Aemon had traveled the short distance from the Dragonpit to the Grand Palace, nor to simply perform the mummery of going about his work as normal. He rose to his feet and he, Aegon, Viserys, Haegon, and Elia were all soon walking down the long corridors and making their way to the courtyard.
He saw him long before he reached the giant double doors that were the main entrance to the Grand Palace. Aemon walked with even more purpose than he was always wont to do. Armed and armored as he usually was, his son looked fit and healthy, and resolved. Rhaegar knew that Aemon had somehow found out about the death of his granduncle and yet how that was, he knew not. It both filled him with joy that he'd come because of it and with anger at himself that it had taken this for his son to return.
"Aems," Aegon said greeting his brother as warmly as he'd ever done, the two of them embracing as they used to do as children.
"Egg." he heard Aemon say just as fondly.
"Nephew."
"Uncle."
"Aemon," Haegon said as Aemon looked at him curiously, his son no doubt working out in his head just why his cousin had seen fit to travel to Volantis at this of all times.
"Haegon."
Rhaegar smiled when Elia greeted Aemon with a hug and though he didn't hear the words they whispered to each other, he would wager they were on Rhaenys and Daenerys, with some on Aemon himself. A few moments later they were standing face to face and he was unsurprised that his own greeting was far colder than any of them had been so far.
"Father."
"Son," he said far more warmly.
"Tell me about my granduncle and the people who took him before his time," Aemon said almost in a whisper and while his voice may have been restrained, the fire in his eyes was anything but.
"There is much we must speak on, son," he said to a nod of Aemon's head and again he felt his heart break a little as he knew that there were things he'd say which may lose him what little favor he still had with his son and may actually lose him his son completely.
Highgarden 301 AC.
Olenna Tyrell.
So far she'd found that there was very little difference in her granddaughter being married to a Warden rather than a king. In time that may change as the Targaryens exerted more and more influence over the land they ruled over, but she believed that in truth it really wouldn't. Willas had done more and more research into the Empire and had concurred with her own opinions on the role they'd been given.
As with those who were governed by members of their House in Essos, Gwayne, Margaery, and by default her, were and would be considered of a higher station than any but others who'd been named as Wardens and of course the Targaryens themselves. They'd be free to make almost as many of the same decisions as they would have, had Gwayne kept his crown. While it was true that they'd pay some taxes to the dragons, they were not as severe or punitive as they could have been. True they'd need to march should they be called, but they would have the dragons to call upon should the need arise as well. An even trade as far as Olenna was concerned.
So with matters of that part of their future now resolved, it was to the other aspects of securing her House that Olenna turned her attention to. The first of those was the marriages of her grandsons. While Garlan had found some favor with Princess Daenerys, or so she believed, Olenna knew it could never be. Any match that may be found with the House of the Dragon would come from the next generation of Tyrells and not this one. A child of Margaery's if the gods were good to her. No, it would be to House Fossoway that she'd look for Garlan's bride as she had been even before the dragons had marched.
'But what of Willas?' the voice inside her head said.
Her oldest grandson should have been long since Wed, but Olenna had put her entire focus on Margaery's own match. She'd been somewhat lax and now she was annoyed with herself for being so. Yet as she sat there at her desk, she found she couldn't decide whether it was an internal match with someone in the Reach that she truly wished for Willas or an external match with a daughter of a great and large House in one of the other kingdoms.
Rising to her feet, she slowly moved to the books she kept closest to her desk and brushed her fingers over each of them as she searched for the one she needed. It took her far longer to find it than she liked and so by the time she sat back down, she was even more annoyed. Opening one of the drawers, she took out the folded-up map of Westeros and laid it out on her desk. Her eyes roamed over each of the by now united kingdoms, as well as those that were not.
"Which is it to be," she asked aloud, though being alone there was or would be no answer to her question.
The Westerlands were out. While Tywin Lannister had two granddaughters who would be suitable, he'd just wed one of them to House Martell. In doing so he'd made himself even more of an enemy of the House of the Dragon and Olenna doubted that the Dragonknight would be as accommodating of the Lannisters as he had been of her House. This ruled out the Martells too, as despite them being kin to Queen Rhaenys, and having a more than suitable potential bride for Willas in Princess Arianne, they too were pulling on the dragon's tail.
Looking to the North, she tried to remember all she could about the Northern houses and found she knew little if anything about any of them other than the Starks. While she'd normally never consider a match with the House of the Wolf, given who King Aemon's mother was, she found she now had to and so she picked up the book and looked through the lineages and current makeup of House Stark. She found there was but one daughter of an age where a betrothal may be considered and so taking a quill and some parchment, she wrote the name down.
Sansa Stark.
Other than one of the daughters of Lord Manderly, she found no other suitable lady and wasn't even sure that Wynafryd or Wylla Manderly were actually choices she could live with or if they even had already betrothed and so she left the list at one name from the North. Next, it was to the Stormlands she looked and to her dismay, she found that the only suitable lady of standing was still but a girl. Shireen Baratheon was but one and ten years old and to wait for her to come of age would be folly.
In the Riverlands, she found many ladies of a suitable age, yet few if any that she'd consider marrying her oldest grandchild to. This soon led her to the Vale, and she found far more fortune here. Both the new Warden and his strongest Bannermen had daughters of an age to be wed and either one of them would make a fine bride for Willas in Olenna's view. The only question she had in regards to them was whether should she reach out for the one, thereby making the other a second choice, or should she aim for the lesser of the two first. Finding that for now she couldn't make the decision, she wrote both names down.
Rowena Arryn.
Ysilla Royce.
It was as she was turning her attention back to the Reach, disappointed as she was with the number of choices outside of their own lands that were available, if not the quality of those choices, that the knock came on her door. Bidding whoever it was to enter and feeling ever more irritated that they were intruding on her valuable thinking time, she at least managed not to snap when Willas revealed himself to be her intruder.
"Tarly, Grandmother," Willas said by way of explanation and Olenna felt her lip curl into an almost snarl.
"What has the fool done now?"
"He's here, grandmother. He seeks an audience with Gwayne."
"Does he indeed."
With her work in her solar now disturbed and with even more important matters to attend to, Olenna rose to her feet and bid her grandson lead her to where Randyll Tarly awaited. By the time she reached the Great Hall, her cane was almost being struck into the ground as she walked. The annoyance she'd felt for most of the day had now reached almost boiling point. Olenna hated that she'd have to listen to some fool notion from a man who she never had any patience for at the best times.
Yet a number of hours later as she, her grandchildren, and her Goodgrandson all sat at the dinner table, she found that she was even more angered and annoyed than ever. He had dared to threaten them, Threaten Her! as if he was a man of such power that she should fear him. Randyll had spouted some nonsense about how the Faith looked unkindly at their alliance with the dragons and that the gods were watching and had judged them lacking. As if she'd not always found him to be so.
She barely ate her meal such was her annoyance. Olenna worried her granddaughter in the process and yet she was in no mood to even coddle Margaery's feelings for once. Instead, she sat, stewed, and considered what course of action she was to take in regard to Randyll Tarly's less than overt threats. That he traveled with a group of Septons and Septa's was mayhap the only reason he still kept his head and she wondered if she should simply arrange for the man to have a little accident.
'Or arrange for his and the Dragonknight's path to cross once more.' the voice in her head said.
It took her some time to eventually fall to sleep that night and she awoke the next morning in an even fouler mood than she had been in when she took to her bed. Her dreams had been of the almost rant that he'd delivered to Gwayne, Margaery, and Olenna herself, and of an outcome that was much different to the one that she'd allowed come to pass. Yet even seeing Randyll Tarly dragged from the Great Hall and humbled in front of one and all before losing his head, was not enough to improve her mood. Not when it had only happened in her dreams and not for true.
Olenna did at least eat something to break her fast which relieved her granddaughter greatly and she too had calmed somewhat by the time she sat down to begin her day's work in her solar. Still, it took her a few moments to make sense of the book, map, and parchment on the desk and even more so the three names she'd written on that piece of parchment. More than a few to then continue about the work she'd clearly left half done. She was just in the process of adding more names to her list when once again she was interrupted and once again it was her grandson who did so.
"Grandmother, you must read this," Willas said handing her a letter which she almost grabbed from his hand.
As she read the words she gasped. Her eyes sought out Willas' own and the look she found in them and the nod of his head were enough to prove the words true.
"How soon can we call the banners?" she asked.
"Most have marched back to their homes, grandmother. It will take some time to do so and to where do we march?"
"Send ravens to the Houses to the south, let them make ready for the Dornish incursion."
"And the others?" Willas asked.
"Tywin Lannister is a far more dangerous man than Doran Martell. His march will be quicker and he'll leave a path of destruction in his wake. Should he make it to Highgarden….
"Grandmother?"
"The Dragons we must inform the Dragons at once."
"I'll see to it," Willas said before he turned to walk from the room.
"Wait." she called out stopping him "Send them this." Olenna began to write out the message to the Dragonknight, telling him of King Tywin and Prince Doran's plan and calling for his aid "Your fastest bird, Willas, time is of the essence."
"It'll be sent immediately, grandmother." her grandson said and she touched his arm hoping that was enough to calm him for now.
Not that Willas was overly emotional or even worried. No, that would come from the next member of her family that she spoke to and as she walked down the corridors of Highgarden towards her granddaughter's rooms, she vowed to herself that the Lions and Snakes would rue the day they decided to march into their lands.
Harrenhal 301 AC.
Oberyn Martell.
The great keep was an incredible sight to behold. Its sheer size alone made it so and yet there was more to it than even that. As a warrior and a well-traveled man, he'd seen most of the keeps that Lords, Magisters, Governors, Princes, Kings, and even the High Emperor himself had named as their own. From the Grand Palace in Volantis to the Sealord's Palace in Braavos, Storm's End to Highgarden, or the Eyrie to Casterly Rock. Other than Winterfell in the North, he'd seen them all and had looked at them with a warrior's eye. Few if any would he say were more secure than Harrenhal.
No army would take this keep from his niece and her husband. They had the men to man it properly, had no doubt filled it with enough supplies and stocks to outlast any siege and if that was not enough, they had dragons to break any army foolish enough to attack them here. Hearing Rhaenys speak proudly of how her husband had taken this keep from the Hoares with but a handful of men, Oberyn couldn't help but be impressed. Though were he being truthful, then he'd admit that he was more impressed that this was where the Dragonknight had chosen to be the center of the Seven Kingdoms. This was to be their own keep and in one stroke Aemon had just made them almost unassailable.
He'd dismissed talk of the Dragonknight's prowess when he'd heard it in Volantis over the years and then even more so when Rhaenys named it to be true. On his last visit to speak to Elia and Aegon among others, he'd been warned time and time again about what would happen should Dorne pull on the Blood Wyrm's tail, and then he'd sat and watched as five kingdoms had become one in mere moons. It had been that which had led him to argue with Doran about the path he sought to walk and now seeing this keep, seeing how it was manned, and knowing this was one of the first things the Dragonknight had sought to do, he was certain he'd been right to do so.
"You'll speak to her today, Oberyn?" Ellaria asked as they walked around the great keep's grounds unhindered and without an escort.
"I will, but I fear it'll do no good."
"She'll not listen to you?" Ellaria asked worriedly, no doubt with her thoughts on her father and her family's fate in the war to come.
"I fear my brother's actions will drive events, my love, not my niece's response to them."
"Or her husband's," Ellaria said shakily.
Taking her in his arms, he held her tightly and hoped she took comfort from that if not from his words. They'd arrived here but a day earlier and though there was much he needed to speak to Rhaenys on, it seemed his niece was preoccupied. Her husband's absence was the reason for that, or so he'd later found out. So the first night had been more of a night reuniting with family than one where a brother came to plead the case for Dorne, if not for its prince.
He'd watched as his girls had helped with Rhaenys' mood and as Daemon had danced with Princess Daenerys much to Nymeria's annoyance. His daughter showed that she was just as jealous as he could be when it came to his love and yet she had nothing to truly be jealous about. While he may be a fit match for one of his girls should they choose to wed, gaining a princess' hand was far beyond his former squire. Something that Daemon had learned many years before at much cost to his pride and his heart.
Oberyn had spoken to some of his niece's men and found one of them getting more than friendly with Tyene. To his surprise, his daughter had more than returned the attention that she was being shown by Daario Naharis. As for those he'd spent his own time with, few it any gave him the information he would choose, and had it not been that one of them had taken his fancy, then it would have been his conversation with Arthur Dayne that illuminated his night. Oberyn smirked as he felt Ellaria relax in his arms. His smirk turned into a fuller smile as he remembered both the conversation and the night that had followed with him and Ellaria joined in their bed by a member of the Second Sons.
"He's truly dead?" he asked as he and Arthur stood at the edge of the large hall.
"He is. Did you know about Volantis? About Princess Daenerys?" Arthur asked accusingly.
"I knew he did something to upset the princess, that is all."
"Was that why you sent him here?"
"Your cousin was a fool of a man who brought much danger to those around him. He was a man too who cared not who he hurt or who got hurt because of him. A man such as that is no fit man to have close to my niece."
"He and Arianne?" Arthur asked.
"A brief fling, but one that risked much. In time I'd have been forced to take his life myself but there are only so many times I can kill a man of Dorne before even I face questions. He wished your sword, you know this?" he asked, smiling as he did so.
"I know."
"So be it you or someone else, I believed, rightly it seems, that he'd find his path ended here should he travel it. It was the Dragonknight?"
"It was. He laid hands on a Dragon, Oberyn, only a fool would do so."
"To Gerold Dayne, fool no more." he laughed as he raised his glass and after taking a swallow from it, he then walked back to his table. The young fair-headed man sitting to his left watched him with a keen eye as he did so.
He truly had welcomed the news of the Darkstar's death and was happy to have been proved right in sending him here. Then for the rest of the night, he'd drank, danced with Ellaria, and found himself talking to the young man whose eye he'd caught, and later he and Ellaria had found that it wasn't just with a sword that Lucearon was talented. It had been a welcome distraction for them both, but that was all it had been, a distraction. The time for such was now at an end and his reason for coming here needed to be raised with his niece.
"Come, my love. I'll seek an audience with my niece and see if things can be resolved between us."
"My fathe…"
"We've sent word, should we get answers we hope to, then we can send more," he said to a nod of Ellaria's head and he kissed her lips softly before taking her arm and walking with her back to the keep.
He'd not caught sight of the dragons on their walk which had actually been the true reason for it. Oberyn had seen Meraxes when Rhaenys had traveled to Sunspear and the Water Gardens but had yet to see Nightwing, Princess Daenerys' dragon. He wished to, needed to. Just as he wished to see Gaelithox. For in all his times visiting Volantis he'd never truly caught sight of the famed Blood Wyrm. Oberyn felt that the knowledge that there were now three dragons in Westeros should have given his brother and Tywin Lannister pause. Though until he'd arrived at Harrenhal, he'd not known, so mayhap that was the reason it had not.
Entering the keep, he nodded to his niece's guards and soon caught sight of his own. Daemon stood watch over Nymeria and his older girls while others guarded his youngest ones. There was no sign of his niece nor of the princess and so after leading Ellaria to where their youngest girls were happily playing and spending some small amount of time with them, he went to seek Rhaenys out. To his great frustration, he found she was not in the keep at all. As she and the princess had set off on a morning flight. So he soon found himself standing on the bridge that connected Meraxes' Tower to the larger Gaelithox's one.
The view he was presented with was breathtaking and as he looked at the towers on either side of him, he wondered what it would be like to see from atop one of them. Still, he was glad he had no fear of heights as he looked down on the lands below. Hearing the noise above him, he looked up rather than down and was greeted with the sight of the two dragons in flight. Both were almost of a size with each other and Nightwing was as dark as the night sky. Atop them, the two figures who rode them looked tiny in comparison and though he couldn't see it, he was almost certain his niece wore a smile when she flew over his head.
Uncertain as to whether he should go and await them to land or go about his day and wait until later before seeing Rhaenys, he decided to do neither. Instead, he stayed on the bridge and was still lost in his thoughts more than an hour later when the door to Gaelithox's tower opened and he turned to see his niece, Arthur Dayne, and Ser Barristan Selmy walk his way.
"I believe you were looking for me, uncle?" Rhaenys asked as she neared him.
"I was, niece. There is much we must speak on."
"You've come to plead Dorne's case? To try and get me to use my influence with my husband and get him to stay his hand." Rhaenys said while staring intently at him.
"I have."
"And what of my other uncle's actions? Of the plans that he's made and the war he wishes for?"
"A war I'll not support and seek to stop before it begins," he said as Rhaenys looked away from him briefly.
"Yet stop it you cannot, uncle. The marriage and alliance with the West have seen to that. We're not fool enough to not understand what this means and while we've given Dorne and Uncle Doran time to come to their senses, we're not unaware of how he's used that time." Rhaenys said angrily.
"My brother is a fool and like most men of Dorne, a prideful one at that. While I looked as you bid me to and saw events play out that proved your words about your husband true, Doran sought a way to even the odds, to gain an ally, and to win a war."
"It's not a war he can win, uncle," Rhaenys said firmly.
"Which is why I've come to ask you to stay Aemon's hand."
"You ask too much." Rhaenys said and Oberyn felt his chest tighten "I know little of war, uncle. Aemon however was born to wage and win it. I told you this. No doubt when you visited Volantis, my mother, father, brother, and uncle told you so as well." Rhaenys said and Oberyn nodded to let her know that they had "What Uncle Doran has done is a declaration of war as loudly as if he had attacked us. Aemon may have held back from attacking Dorne first, but he only did so out of respect for my wishes and because he wished to see the lands of his mother. He did so to allow Dorne to understand where the path it sought to walk would lead and yet rather than do so, Uncle Doran decide to race down that path."
"I could….we could…" he stuttered, the words not coming to him as what he wished to say was something that had already been tried and had failed.
"War is inevitable, uncle. It…"
Seeing the red priest as he hurried towards his niece had Oberyn reaching for his dagger as if to protect her from some danger that had just presented itself.
"My princess." Thoros said "From the Reach." he heard him add and then he looked on as Rhaenys took the raven's scroll from the red priest's hand and read it.
She looked so much like her mother as she did so that Oberyn was almost transported to a different time and place. Even when Rhaenys' expression changed from curiosity to anger, it was as if he was staring at his sister and they were but children once again.
"The bloody-minded fool," Rhaenys exclaimed
"Niece?"
"There's your peace, uncle. There goes any chance of it." Rhaenys turned to move from him and though he wished to reach his hand out to stop her, the look he was given by both Arthur and Ser Barristan bid him not to.
"What's happened?"
"The West and Dorne march on the Reach, uncle. They seek to conquer a kingdom sworn to my husband and me and so the war has now begun. It is not one they'll be prepared for." Rhaenys said determinedly as she, Arthur, Barristan, and Thoros walked away and left him standing there alone.
Closing his eyes, he saw Sunspear in flames, the Water Gardens destroyed, and Dornish men, women, and children laying dead in the sands.
"What am I to do?" he asked as he opened them and much to his further concern, not only was there no reply, but he could find no answer either.
The Conquest of Westeros XLVII
Brothers and Sisters.
As with all families, the relationship of siblings were oft complicated within the House of the Dragon. From Aegon wedding both his sisters and only ever truly loving one of them to Aemon the Dragonknight's alleged love for his sister Nerys and acceptance of her marriage to his brother Aegon the IV. Tales enough to fill the Citadel itself could be told about the issues between Emperor Viserys and his brother the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen. Yet more oft than not it was not issues between full siblings that truly caused an issue within the House of the Dragon.
Instead, it was those caused by half brothers and sisters, as was the case between those known as the Blackfyres or those known as the Greens. The wish of a half-brother to usurp his half-sister's claim was what led to the Dance of Dragons and by the time it was done and dusted, few if any greens remained alive. As for the Blackfyres', jealousy, lust, an Emperor's appetites being let go unchecked, and a deathbed proclamation all combined. Though were it not for the false Dragonknight then no conflict ever would have truly begun.
After the flight of the Blackfyres, few if any sons or daughters of the dragons had children from more than one woman, legitimate children that was, as none could tell if there were more than one born out of wedlock. So when Prince Rhaegar took a second wife, the first one in an age, some within the Empire held their breath once more. Little did they know just how pointless an exercise that was. For both mothers were strong enough of will to ensure that any children born to either of them, would be as true siblings as if they came from their own wombs.
Prince Aegon the firstborn, heir to the Empire, and his sister Princess Rhaenys were soon joined by the first Dragonknight in over a century. Other than the usual squabbling of siblings, not once was a divide ever even witnessed let alone allowed to fester. Long after he ascended to his father's throne and was named High Emperor of Essos, Aegon knew he could call upon his brother for aid and that Aemon would return. As for the Dragonknight, his only words on his brother were simple and direct.
"Never did a man have a better brother than I." Aemon the Dragonknight.
A history of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,
Marwyn the Mage.
Volantis 301 AC.
Aegon.
Seeing his brother again was a boon to his very soul. He'd welcomed Aemon back as truly and warmly as he ever had and his brother had returned that warmth. It was somewhat of a relief if he was being honest. Aegon may have played no part in Aemon's exile, yet he'd not spoken up against it publicly. Even if he had done so many times in private. A part of him had worried that Aemon may blame him a little, yet it was clear now that he did not. Nor did he seem to have any issues with his mother and Viserys. Though given how he looked at their father and how far he stood away from him, the same could not be said in that regard.
As they'd walked back to the family wing of the Grand Palace, Aegon had spoken to Viserys and his uncle had then hurried off to speak to Varys. By the time they entered his father's set of rooms and his large sola, Viserys had returned and Aegon knew that Varys would be spreading tale of a reason for Aemon's return. Before the night was done, all of Volantis would believe a truth that their spymaster would see them told and the members of the High Council would all seek to meet with him, his father or uncle to find out the veracity of the words they'd no doubt hear.
For now, Aegon cared little about it and had only asked Viserys to see it done because his father it seemed had thought of it not. Instead, it was tales of Aemon's adventures and confirmation from his brother's own lips that both Rhaenys and Daenerys were safe and well that he wished to hear spoken. Though he knew that before those tales could be, it would be tales of their granduncle's murder and the steps they'd taken to punish those responsible that would be told first of all. Or so he had believed when they'd taken their seats. Only to then find that it was the ones he'd wished for to be the first topics of the conversation to come.
"My wife and aunt are both safe and well." Aemon said as he looked to him and then Viserys "Harrenhal is even more protected than the Grand Palace and the enemies we face have much ground to cover before they'd ever reach its gates."
"And should they?" Viserys asked worriedly.
"Then they'll find my army, uncle, and my men are more than a match for them," Aemon said, and just listening to the lack of doubt or worry in Aemon's voice was comforting.
"How did you find out about what happened, Aems?" he asked curiously.
"Darkfyre flew to join me when I was visiting the Wall." his brother replied and Aegon caught the sharp intake of breath that his father made.
If he was to wager, then he'd say it was more that Aemon had traveled to the Wall than the fact that Darkfyre had flown to join him there. Though for him it was more the latter than the former. As he readied to ask why his granduncle's dragon had seen fit to fly to Westeros, Aemon spoke the words that answered his yet unasked question.
"He came seeking vengeance and justice for his rider's death and to seek out his new rider too."
"New rider?" his mother asked.
"It seems that House Velaryon are to be Dragonriders again," Aemon said proudly and despite feeling happy for both Aemon and Aurane, Aegon felt a little jealous about this bringing them closer too.
"They're gone to the Dragon Nursery?" Viserys asked and Aemon nodded his head.
There was a moment's quiet, some silence while it seemed each of them looked to each other to see who would speak next. Again it was his brother's voice that was heard.
"What happened to him?" Aemon asked almost in a whisper.
It was he who told the tale. Of how he and his granduncle had been walking through the halls and corridors and of the attack. He told how had it not been for their granduncle, then it would have been he who'd fallen and while he didn't say he wished it had been, he said the words in such a way that his meaning was just as clear as it would have been had he done so. Aegon was surprised when Aemon got up from his seat and moved to him. His brother sat down beside him on the couch and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he felt himself be turned so he was facing Aemon, he tried to move away only for Aemon not to allow him to do so.
"I am much relieved that you are unharmed, brother. Had it been me who was there I'd have sought to take the blade myself and I know that our granduncle felt no doubt in doing so. As I know that you would not have had it been you who'd realized the assassin's intent."
"I…I should have…had I…"
"Egg," Aemon said softly, shaking his head and looking at him sympathetically.
"You'd have…you'd have known."
"Or I wouldn't have and we'd mourn him still. This was not your fault brother, I blame you not and you know he'd not either." Aemon said and before he knew it, they were embracing each other once again. Aegon had finally heard what he needed from the one person he'd needed it from.
He knew he'd not been at fault, logically he understood it. Just as he knew that his brother would never blame him or think of him as bearing some responsibility for their granduncle's death. Yet still, he'd blamed himself somewhat. At times he'd wished it was he and not their granduncle who'd fallen and a small part of him had felt that Aemon may wish that too. It was a weight he was happy to feel no more and as he and Aemon broke from their embrace, he was glad that his brother chose to remain seated beside him.
"Those responsible?" Aemon said a moment later.
"It was the Sorrowful Men who carried out the assassination, Aemon." his father said and Aegon felt the increased tension on the couch as Aemon's hand gripped the material tightly "They are no more." his father quickly added.
"Haegon and I brought about their ends, Aemon," Viserys said and though his brother's response was only an almost imperceptible nodding of his head, Aegon did see him let go of the material he was gripping before he then offered Viserys a bow of his head in thanks.
"They were not the only ones who played a part, however." his father said and for the next hour, his father, Viserys, and Aegon himself told his brother all they'd found out.
Later that night.
He found him alone, standing on the balcony looking out at the night sky. Off somewhere in the distance, he'd wager that Gaelithox was flying and he wondered if Caraxes was by his side. After they'd spoken, his brother had stormed from his father's solar and had spent the next two hours in the sparring yards. At one point, he'd seen him take on six men at once and lose badly to them. Aemon had allowed them to get their licks in and almost seemed to revel in the pain that their strikes inflicted.
Before they'd eaten their meal, his mother had forced Aemon to take a bath and change his clothing, and he'd heard her inform their father that he'd been bruised and battered. The pain he felt over their granduncle's death was now one he wished to feel physically too and it had worried Aegon greatly. Yet he knew his brother's moods somewhat and it needed to be Aemon to bring up what he was feeling and not someone else pushing him to do so. Other than Rhaenys, not one of them could force him to speak or cajole him to do so anyway.
Walking towards him, he did so as quietly as he could, and yet he knew he'd been heard and noticed long before he reached his brother's side. Aegon leaned against the wall and looked out in the same direction his brother was, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see that Aemon had shed more than one tear before he'd arrived. They stood in silence for some time. Aemon almost seemed to be composing himself before he spoke and Aegon worried that were he to break the silence then it would force his brother away.
"It's my fault." Aemon said, his voice hoarse "I should have killed them all. I should have marched on the West first."
He saw his brother's shudder and though he wished to speak and tell him how wrong he was, he knew that Aemon wasn't yet ready to hear it.
"I'd never….I never imagined they'd come here." Aemon said shakily "I could have….I should have."
For the third time in one day, he was again embraced by his brother. Aegon felt that this was something Aemon needed to do and so returned the embrace just as fiercely.
"I could have lost you, brother. Talisa…father, your mother….I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Aems."
It ended much more quickly than the other two had. Aemon let him go and stood a little straighter and he saw the moment when things changed and it was no longer guilt, worry, or sadness that was his brother's guide.
"I'll kill them all, each and every single one of them. The Imp, the Old Lion, Petyr Baelish, I'll seek them all out and they'll pay. I swear it on Fire and Blood, I vow it on the soul of our granduncle. I'll not fucking rest until not one of them is left alive in this world." Aemon said and Aegon felt a chill go down his spine when he looked into his brother's eyes and saw the fire that burned within them.
Harrenhal 301 AC.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
Had anyone suggested that she'd miss her husband more outside of their bed-chamber than she did inside of it, then she'd have laughed and named them a fool. Were they then to suggest that it wasn't Aemon's company, the time they spent together, or just being able to touch and see him that would cause her concern, then she'd have named them as mad. Yet as she walked into the rooms they had set aside to act as their solars, all of those things had been proved as the lesser reasons that she wished Aemon was here and not in Volantis.
Her day had started off so well and almost without worry. True she knew that she and her uncle would need to speak about Dorne and Doran, and yet she was more than prepared to do so both mentally and emotionally. The time she'd spent in the North with the other side of Aemon's family had allowed for her to truly come to terms with what her uncle and Dorne were doing. Like them, the North too had initially believed they could stand alone or against them. Yet in the end, they'd realized that to do so was folly and to fight against family was not something they truly wished to do. Especially when that family was Aemon Targaryen.
Her own family had however not come to that realization and had instead sought out an ally to join them in the upcoming fight. By joining with the Westerlands and with House Lannister in a marriage as well as a military alliance, they had made their bed. Aemon would now not give them any quarter that didn't come at the end of Dark Sister's thin blade and with them on their knees. Although it had not been what she had wished for initially, now neither would she. So she had resolved herself to what would happen with Dorne, with her uncle and cousins, and had instead taken comfort that Oberyn may have seen sense where Doran had not.
The morning flight that she and Dany had taken had allowed for her to clear her mind and her talk with Oberyn while somewhat distressing, was one she had been well prepared for. What she'd not been prepared for was the raven that had come from Highgarden. Nor the words that the message it had carried, contained. Even now as she entered the solar and took her place by the desk with the map of Westeros laid out upon it, she was still not truly prepared and instinctively she looked to her left. Only to sigh when she saw no sight or heard no sound of her husband. Closing her eyes to ready herself for what she needed to do, she took a breath, opened them, and bid Arthur let the others into the solar.
"Send them in, Arthur."
Thoros, Daario, Torgho Nudho, Marwyn, and Dany entered along with Ser Barristan. Seeing Ghost walk with her aunt brought a smile to her face and she welcomed it when the white wolf moved to her side. Its presence and the feel of it as she ran her hand along its fur-covered back were both enough to further strengthen her resolve. She waited until everyone was standing around the table and once they were, she handed the raven's scroll to Thoros to read out. Once he was done, she then began to speak.
"I know little of war, certainly not as much as most of you in this room. But our ally calls for aid and so aid we shall give them. I would seek your counsel as to what form that aid should take and how best to bring it to bear."
It was Thoros who answered. The red priest looked first at the map and then at her for permission to speak. A small nod of her head was enough to grant him that permission.
"Given what Lady Olenna says in this message, we can assume that the Lannister army will attack from the west while the Dornish forces march from the south. The quickest route to Highgarden is along here." Thoros said pointing to the Ocean Road. While for the Dornish it'll be through here." he said pointing at the Prince's Pass and Nightsong.
"They could use this road and attack more of the Reach itself," Daario said and Rhaenys looked as he moved his fingers over the Goldroad.
"You've been to the West, Daario, which route would you take?" she asked and Daario looked to Thoros before concurring that it would most likely be the Ocean Road that the Lannisters would travel.
"How many men can the West and Dorne call upon?" Arthur asked.
"65,000 at most. Though I'd wager it would be less than that." Barristan replied.
"And the Reach?" she asked turning to the Mage.
"Could more than match the numbers, your grace. Yet Lady Olenna's words on Lord Tarly and the Faith give me pause. I'd not count on them raising more than half their true force." Marwyn said.
"I understand not marching times, nor truly know these lands, Ser Barristan. If we assume that both armies began their march a week or more ago, how long would it take them to reach Highgarden?"
"Three weeks, your grace. Two at best."
"And were we to call our own banners?" she asked and the frowns she saw appear on Barristan, Daario and Thoros' faces were enough to let her know she'd not have enough time to do so.
"A moon at least, closer to two to gather than and march, your grace," Barristan replied, and was it not for the movement of the Mage beside her, then she'd have found her worries only increasing.
"Marwyn"
"Lord Stannis, your grace. Were you to send a raven to Lord Stannis and bid him call his banners, he could at least offer a delay if not truly stop the Dornish army from marching."
"He could do so quickly enough?" she asked relieved.
"He could, your grace." Ser Barristan replied, the knight having more knowledge of his former prince than any of them.
Moving away from the large table, she walked to her desk and took out the parchment, and began to write. Happy with the words, she blew on the paper to dry the ink and then bid Marwyn send the raven immediately. With the Mage hurrying from the room, Rhaenys moved back to the table and looked down on the map once more.
"How many men can we raise quickly and how long would it take us to reach Highgarden?" she asked.
"Three thousand, maybe another five on the march, your grace," Thoros said and she knew that was nowhere near enough.
"Call for cavalry only, Thoros. I bid them ride and ride hard."
"Your grace." Thoros bowed his head slightly.
"Daario, I need the Second Sons to head out immediately. Make your way to Storm's End and offer Lord Stannis whatever aid you can. In time my aunt and I shall join you."
"Your grace."
"Dany it falls to you and me to come to Highgarden's aid. Arthur, Barristan, see to the provisions for a long flight, on the morrow we head for the Reach and I'd have you both with me when we do so."
"Your grace."
Torgho Nudho moved to her after Barristan and Arthur had left and she simply nodded at him as he did so in return. There was no need for words and she knew that nothing she said would stop him from guarding her back. In truth, she welcomed it for once she and Dany were alone, she finally allowed her hands to shake.
"Rhae?" Dany said as he moved to her, her hands taking Rhaenys' own and gripping them tightly.
"Fire and Blood, Dany. Just as Aemon would bring them. We, you and I, will bring them Fire and Blood."
"We will," Dany said firmly.
Later as she lay alone in her bed, she wished once again that Aemon was there with her. Since the meeting earlier that day, Arthur, Thoros, Daario, and Torgho Nudho had all come to her and shared their concerns. Each of them had bidden her to allow them to simply do what needed to be done and for her and Dany to remain in Harrenhal and let events play out as they would. She'd denied them all. While she welcomed their concern and knew that it would be what Aemon wished for her to do, she knew too that she could not. They didn't have the men to beat the West or Dorne. It would fall to the dragons to do so and she was a dragon too.
"Hurry back to me, my love. Hurry back, for I miss you so," she said softly as she gripped her pillow tightly and brought it closer to her chest.
The Conquest of Westeros XLVIII
Greenseers, Wargs and Dragon Dreamers.
Prophecy is a fickle thing and yet the House of the Dragon was perhaps one that was built on prophecy more than any other. Daenys dreamed and Valyria was left behind. Aegon had a vision and so it was to Essos he turned and a She Wolf saw more than anyone knew, which then led to a conquest of Westeros. While the first of those was no doubt a result of the fabled Dragon Dreams that only those with Dragon's blood coursing through their veins were capable of. The last of those was something even older than that.
Where the power comes from, none can tell. In regard to those with the blood of the First Men, it's the Old Gods that it's ascribed to. It was not the only gift given by the Old Gods if the tales were true. Wargs too only came from those with First Men blood in their veins. Their power was much different than those with the Green Sight.
While those with Dragon Dreams see glimpses and mayhap more of the future, these visions come in dreams and can oft be confusing. So it would be fair to assume that many more men and women of the House of the Dragon had Dragon Dreams. Yet other than Daenys, few are spoken off. Greenseers though see things differently. Their visions come to them while they are awake and so are somewhat more understandable. Some see sigils, symbols, or metaphorical allegories of events yet to come. Some see far more than that and some can make no sense of what they see and so they slip into madness.
Wargs can somehow slip into the skin of an animal and in some cases, a man. They can see and feel through the animal's eyes, control it and have it do their bidding, or simply share their time with it and allow it to do its own. Sometimes, rarely, a Warg will have green dreams and all green dreamers are wargs.
"One man in a thousand is a warg and one warg in a thousand is a greenseer." Aemon the Dragonknight.
One who could do both was rare and in my life, I've known but two. The She-Wolf and her grandchild.
Volantis 301 AC.
Aemon Targaryen.
He stood in his granduncle's room, his eyes closed as he remembered all the times over the years that he would come here. There was no need for him to look to see the bookcase to the left of the bed. No need to touch the small table to know that he'd feel the wax that had dripped down from the candle that his granduncle used to read by. Aemon could almost hear the sound of his granduncle's voice as he spoke to him about their family and what it meant to be a Dragonknight. How it came with great responsibility and was a burden that he was certain he could bear.
Images of his youth flashed by and in them all, he was here with his granduncle, reading, talking, learning, and laughing at something he'd been told to lighten the mood when it turned too serious. Each milestone that he had achieved in his early life had been celebrated more by his granduncle than his father. Never once was Aemon left in any doubt that he'd been proud of each and every single one of them.
Opening his eyes, he felt the sting of the tears as they fell, and the realization that never again would he see or hear his granduncle's words finally took hold for true. Aemon walked to the bed and brushed his hand over the pillow. He moved to the bookcase and did likewise, touching each of the books in turn before then kneeling down to pull out the chest that he knew his granduncle had kept under his bed. Opening it with reverence and some trepidation, the tears fell even more truly now as he looked at what he knew had been his granduncle's most precious things.
There were notes that he himself had written and sent to him over the years. Some from battlefields far and wide. Others from marches to and from those battlefields. As with Rhaenys, there was a seashell taken from a beach on his first-ever trip away from Volantis. A small dagger that he'd taken off the first man he'd ever killed in their family's name, or to be more accurate, the first he'd ever killed with his own hands and Dark Sister's blade. Other things were from his granduncle's brothers, sisters, mother, and father and some he'd wager were from his own father too. None of them would now be treasured as they had once been and for some reason, this was what seemed almost saddest of all to him.
"You deserved more treasures than these, uncle. Yet would we were all as content as you were," he said softly as he closed the lid of the chest and moved it back under the bed.
Rising to his feet, he took one more look around the room and once again said his goodbyes. Aemon cared not for religion and believed not that when he'd die there was a place for him in some god's embrace. Unlike Thoros, he didn't expect to find himself welcomed into R'hllor's fiery halls when his time finally came to an end. If the gods did exist, however, then he had no doubt they'd find a place for his granduncle by their side. For if they did not, then when he found himself face to face with them and ready to be judged, they'd find that it wasn't just in life that the Dragonknight fought for family, but in death too.
Reluctantly though it was, he left the room behind and wagered that he'd never set foot in it again. He knew that his father would see the things removed and placed among the other possessions that their fallen kin had cared most for. His granduncle's things were now destined to be just more relics, artifacts, and forgotten history as his life would be considered to have been a lesser one than most of those who came before him. He would not be the Aemon Targaryen that most spoke of in the books that would be written and in the years to come. Not even though he deserved to be held just as high as any of those who came before or after him.
With no particular direction in mind, Aemon walked for some time and when he did actually look to see where he had walked to, he was unsurprised to find it was his mother's crypt that his feet had carried him to. Entering through the large double door, the coldness of the crypt hit him at once and he lit the torch and walked to where he knew his mother's statue and the tomb itself were. To his shame, he bore her no offering other than his words, and yet, he knew that it would be his words that she'd appreciate most of all. How long he'd been there speaking to her, he knew not, but he was in no hurry to leave and would have stayed alone for much longer were it not for his father's arrival.
"I thought it would be here you'd come to." his father said as he moved and placed the small blue flower into the statue's outstretched hands, Aemon only now noticing the dried petals that had fallen at the statue's feet from older flowers that had evidently been placed there.
"I had not intended to." he said before correcting himself "To come now, that was. I would have come before I left, but I'd not planned to do so today."
"You wished it to be about our granduncle did you not?" his father asked and Aemon nodded.
They stood in silence for a few moments, a comfortable one for once. His anger at his father was still there, but it had been tempered by not wishing to be disrespectful to their granduncle's passing. Since his arrival a few days earlier, they'd not truly spoken on anything much other than those who'd caused his granduncle's death and the plots against their family. A few words on Dany and Rhaenys and his campaign in Westeros and that was basically the full extent of their conversations thus far. With Viserys and even more so with Aegon, there had been much longer and fuller talks. Aemon had probably spent more time with Haegon too if he was to add it all up.
Partly that was because of a reluctance on his part to turn this visit into the argumentative one that it could be. Mostly it was because he didn't wish to truly know the answer to the questions that burned deep within him and that had been left unasked for so many years. No, that was a lie, he wished to know those answers, he just feared what they would be. Deciding to once again forgo asking them and certainly not to do so here in this sacred place, he quickly found that the choice was to be taken from him and that his father was no longer going to wait for them to be asked.
"She had such plans for you, Aemon." his father began "A fate and future for you that even I had not dared to imagine. She knew how special you truly were, even long before Gaelithox hatched. Would oft tell me that your destiny was larger than any dragon that came before you."
He wished to speak and yet could not, instead, he just looked to his mother's statue and allowed his father to continue to do so.
"Your mother had a gift, Aemon. Greenseeing they call it in the North. In our House, we'd name it Dragon Dreams, and just like with Daenys, your mother saw the future that would come for us all. So just as the Dreamer did, she too sought to take steps to prepare us for that future."
Aemon looked on as his father moved to the statue and seemed to place a kiss on his mother's cheek before turning away and though he couldn't see what he did with his hand, he'd wager he had just wiped his eyes.
"We believe that when a Dragonknight is born it means a time of great change in the Empire. Wars will be fought, lands brought under our control and while this was true with you, it was never to be here that your true war was to be fought." his father spoke and then stopped for a moment, he'd turned to face him and never before had Aemon see him bear the look he now did, he seemed apologetic, regretful even "It was not the life I wished for you, son. Not the life I'd have chosen for you. Yet I could refuse your mother nothing and I believed in her with all I am."
He felt his anger rise, his temper beginning to boil. Was his father really blaming his mother for the slights he'd suffered over the years? For allowing Septons and Septas to speak of him how they did and for him being denied the one and only thing he'd ever wished for? Was he truly about to tell him that he'd been exiled because it had been his mother's wish?
"Westeros was where you belonged and yet, the doom or our House lay in Westeros too. No son of the Empire ever looked West, Aemon, none would dare so and yet your mother bid me allow you to. So after much debate and much searching through the rarest of tomes and books by your Granduncle, in time I began to believe as she did."
"My mother? My Granduncle." Aemon snapped "You're saying it was them and not you who wished me exiled? They who denied me what was in my heart?" his anger was palpable.
"No." his father said firmly "I'm saying that your mother's foresight set the path, your granduncle's research showed how that path could be walked, and then it was left to me to make sure that you walked it how you were supposed to." his father said resignedly.
Looking at his father, he could see that the things he said were taking a toll on him, and yet he found that he cared not. For now, he cared not. He needed to know more, to hear more, and yet he wished not to listen to another word his father spoke. Somehow he managed to rein in his temper and once he had, he bid his father to continue.
"Your mother set about preparing things for when the time came. She sought allies, companions, friends, and brothers by choice that would walk this path with you."
Aurane, Torgho Nudho, Thoros, and Marwyn, each had been chosen for him and he knew not how that made him feel.
"Later after the gods had so cruelly taken her from us both, I continued her work as best I could. I knew not when the time would come nor what form your departure would take, but I knew that it was as inevitable as the sun rising each and every morn. It was your mother who sought us to reach out to the Faith and fools that they are they hated her and in turn you when I did so. During those early days after their arrival, they kept their words to themselves and it was only later after your mother's death that they truly showed their hand."
"You knew and allowed it?" he asked, though this was something he'd long since suspected and had even called his father out on before his exile.
"To my shame, I did." his father said as he looked to the ground and not to Aemon "They needed to know that you'd not welcome their piety or seek their favor. That their words were not your own. Who those in Westeros prayed to cannot be decided by men, Aemon. Not by a Septa, Septon, King, or High Emperor, but by the very gods themselves. The Drowned God of the Iron Born, the Old Gods of your mother's people, R'hllor should they so wish or the Seven who are One if that is their choice. Never should it be forced upon them and never should they not have a champion to stand for each and every one of their rights."
"Me? You expect me to stand as a champion for the right to choose which god someone kneels to?" he asked incredulously.
"Your mother did." his father replied and Aemon felt his anger leave him somewhat, or his anger on that subject do so at least.
"So you allowed them to speak ill of me? Or her? Of the love that I feel for Rhaenys? Just so I'd hate them?"
"Who better to stand as a champion against the Faith than a man who hated them, Aemon? Who better to stand for the freedom to choose to worship a god or not, than a man who believes in none of them?"
"And Rhaenys?" he asked having moved past the words spoken on gods he cared not for or believed not in and a Faith he had no time for.
"I know your heart, son." his father said with a soft smile on his face "As much as you may not wish to be like me, in this, we're much alike. You're ruled by that thing that beats in your chest as much as I am, or your mother was. The gods have fashioned us for love, Aemon. You, me, your mother, Elia, and Rhaenys too, all of us would do whatever it takes for those we love."
"You denied me knowing I'd not accept it," he said and his father nodded.
"It had to be your choice, Aemon. You had to force events, not I. I could exile you for denying my command, but I could not send you away, not truly."
"You knew that I'd go to Dragonstone and that Rhaenys would follow. That once there I'd seek to take the lands for myself, for her?" he asked curiously.
"No, she did." his father said looking at his mother's statue "She foresaw it all."
He watched as his father walked away and left him standing there alone in front of his mother's statue. His whole life had been planned out and allowed to play out according to some plan his mother had come up with based on a dream. All he'd done, all he'd suffered, and every decision he'd made, all of them were now being questioned in his head and to his dismay, he found no adequate answers for any of them.
"Why? What reason could there be for my life to be as it is? What plan were you working to?" he asked his mother angrily.
There was no reply and though he wanted to scream at the statue and to let how angered he was at his mother just be let loose, he would and could not do so. Moving to the statue, he did as his father had done before him, he kissed its cheek softly and told her that he loved her still. Then he walked out of the crypts and went in search of his father. For he had more questions that he needed answers to and he would get them before he flew back to Westeros. There, upon his return, he would deal most harshly with those who'd caused his granduncle's death.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. I want to thank everyone who wished me well these past few weeks. The operation was a complete success and my eye is better than it's ever been, I'm also no longer wearing an eye patch and so can't live out my fantasies of being a pirate, so there are downsides too lol.
My update schedule begins in earnest here today and later this week both Winter King and Revenge is a Dish will be updated, with Live as a wolf to Follow early next week along with Dragonverse. Again, I thank you all for your good wishes, they were much appreciated.
Missed reviews.
Myafroatemydog: Really glad you're enjoying this.
Alsdjhfgljkwebgh: If you think so then feel free to give the story a miss.
Mephisto: In einer Geschichte mit einem Targaryen MC und Protagonisten und den Lannisters als Antagonisten wäre das eine verlorene Hoffnung.
Mootern: Hier in Essos ist er komplett als Targ aufgewachsen, das ist ein ganz anderer Charakter. Aber nur wenige Targs würden es tatsächlich als Inzest betrachten. Und wenn Jon nicht tatsächlich als Stark erzogen wurde, in WF lebte, dann würde er sich immer mehr in seine Drachenwurzeln lehnen als in seine Wolfswurzeln, das ist nur gesunder Menschenverstand
Chapter 22 Reviews.
Daryl Dixon: So very glad you liked it.
Celexys: That was my intent, to change things up and yet follow the original canon where I could too.
Rhatch: Thanks so much.
Sventhedecoy: You're more than welcome.
Dunk: It can be so tempting to just have the main character not just do everything but be the one who finds out it all, plans it all out, and so you have to walk a fine line at times. Have them be the MC but not the only driving force behind things, but at the same time when it's others who are, you need to have a reason for why the MC who up to then may seem almost omnipotent, suddenly isn't. Time, distance, and location is always the easiest way to accomplish this I find. Your MC is busy or there in a specific place or they're far from the event, which allows them to keep their agency but gives others agency too. So I'm glad that worked here. Aemon will pretty much turn for home now yes. So glad you picked up on Tyrion's foreshadowing. Jaime may regret his wish should it come true.
Keb: Without spoiling too much in regard to the dragons, there will be at least one battle with the sky filled with them. LF is pretty much cut off from the IB now, yes, though he has planned for that should it come to pass and we'll see him in a chapter or two. In regards to him and the Lannisters, he really doesn't care nor truly need them and they were merely tools for him. It's a bit like using them and the Starks to start the WOTFK, they're merely means to an end and disposable.
Xan Merrick: Thanks so much, my friend. Glad you enjoyed it.
Hightower: Ich bin mir nicht sicher, was du meinst, mein Freund. Was ist dumm?