Aemon The Conqueror: The Rise of the Dragonknight

by Alperez16

Aegon and his sister-wives looked East instead of West and the Valyrian Empire was born. Jon Snow, a prince of the empire and the first Dragonknight in over a hundred years was born to wage war and strike down the empire's enemies. Exiled to Dragonstone because of his desire for his sister, how will the Seven Kingdoms react when the Dragonknight seeks to unite them under 1 King.

29. A Bright Roar and a Dark Sister

Harrenhal 301 AC.

Rhaenys Targaryen.

Being injured was frustrating, as too was how coddled Rhaenys was by those around her. Her aunt, uncle, and even Ser Barristan all acted as if she was incapacitated. When, in truth, Rhaenys felt no discomfort at all. Whatever ointments that Marwyn had used on her injury, added to the small potions he made her drink, had her feeling no pain whatsoever. Instead, it was frustration that was her most prevalent emotion.

While she had welcomed being fitted for her new armor, happy too to see that it was not only to be functional but decorative too, Rhaenys more than anything wished to be back atop Meraxes and flying west. Something that Aemon had left strict instructions that she was not allowed to do until fully recovered. No matter that she was now a queen and so by right people answered to her. On this, she was given no leeway.

"The Dragonknight tasked me with clearing you to fly, my queen. It is not a task I take lightly." Marwyn had said when Rhaenys argued with him and told him she wished to join Aemon now and not later.

Even Meraxes seemed to have been given instruction from her husband that overruled Rhaenys own commands. The silver dragon refused, again and again, to allow Rhaenys to mount her and take to the sky. It forced Rhaenys to look on in annoyance when Dany and Nightwing flew. Even if it was ostensibly to allow them both to get used to the armor that her aunt now wore.

So with her departure not allowed for now, Rhaenys instead threw herself into the rest of her queenly duties. Ravens had come from the Vale and the North, confirming that they had marched and would soon be joining up with Aemon and his army. While word had come from the men that Aurane had left in charge of seeing that the work at Dragon's Landing continued apace. Some of what they'd said in their ravens even brought a smile to Rhaenys' face and forced her frustrations away, for a short while at least.

To their graces, King Aemon and Queen Rhaenys,

I write to inform you that the ships have arrived from the Empire bearing stonemasons, glass blowers, carpenters, and other artisans to help with the building of Dragon's Landing and fitting out of Harrenhal. I've sent them on their way with a large escort as they bring some supplies that were personally requested by his grace. We've received too, a number of travelers who've heard of what is being built here and the new kingdom that is being established. Merchants, traders, shipwrights, and former slaves who seek a new beginning or to make their fortune. Some I've sent on to request an audience directly with both your graces and some will remain here to meet with my lord upon his return.

I remain as always your ever-faithful servant,

Valon Antigus.

Rhaenys smiled as she read the words. Aemon's plans and her own coming to fruition far sooner than either of them had dared to hope for. Or mayhap it was only Rhaenys who'd not dared to hope, Aemon she knew had always been daring. Reading through some of the other ravens that Marwyn had brought to her attention, Rhaenys found herself disappointed that none bore Aemon's seal. Though there was one from Stannis Baratheon that soon perked her interest. Especially given how it was addressed.

For the attention of their graces, King Aemon and Queen Rhaenys of the House Targaryen of Westeros.

Your Graces,

I write to inform you that the prisoners have all arrived safely at Storm's End. They will be treated with the honor and courtesy that their station affords them and we await your further request in regard to their future. Prince Quentyn has recovered fully from his injury, while some of the other lords and their heirs are taking longer to do so. My Maester, however, is happy to assert that none will pass or suffer any more permanent damage than they already have.

Hereby, I enclose a list of the captives and their conditions. As well as a list of those confirmed to have died in the battle and its precursor.

Stannis Baratheon,

Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

Looking at the list it was clear to Rhaenys just how true the victory against the Dornish Army had been. Along with Quentyn, the heir to Yronwood, Qorgyle, and Wyl were now their prisoners while Lord Vaith and Lord Uller too had been captured. The list of the dead was even more extensive and it took Rhaenys a moment to realize why that was. At first, thinking that they'd just had the most outrageous good fortune and Dorne had very much not. Before then remembering that she'd sent Daario and the Second Sons to offer Stannis aid.

Whether it was enough to bring Dorne and her uncle Doran to their knees, she knew not. However, it was at least enough for one final offer to be made on her and Aemon's behalf. Rising to her feet, Rhaenys took Stannis' letters with her and went in search of her uncle. Barristan quickly took up his place at her back, along with two of the men of the Flames of the Dragon that were among those left behind to garrison Harrenhal.

It was no surprise that it was the sparring yard where she found her uncle. Ellaria his uncle's paramour was there too looking on as Oberyn and his oldest girls faced off in a series of spars against Ser Daemon Sand and some of Rhaenys' own men. What was more surprising to Rhaenys, however, was seeing her aunt here too. So it was to Dany that she made her way to first.

"Are they any good?" she whispered after she'd greeted Dany with a kiss on each of her cheeks.

"Your uncle moves as close to Aemon as any man I've ever seen. He's a true artist with a spear and would give Torgho…." Dany gasped. "Forgive me, I…"

"There is naught to forgive, Dany. I too can barely believe that he fell." Rhaenys said softly. Her eyes closed as she thought both of Torgho Nudho never being seen at Aemon's side again and how Aemon would be taking the loss of such a true friend.

Looking at her aunt, Rhaenys could once again see something in her violet eyes that she doubted even Dany was aware of yet. For as much as she'd wished to be by their side and had fought as valiantly as any of them had, earning a true victory over two sets of Lannisters in the process, Dany misliked war. She'd been sheltered from it by Rhaegar for her entire life, as too had Rhaenys if she was being honest with herself. Though in her case, Aemon had never sugar-coated what it was like how both he and Rhaegar did for Dany.

Her aunt would soon wish to return to the comfort of the life she'd known before. At least temporarily, for Rhaenys had no doubt that in the years to come should she and Aemon or the Empire call upon Dany, then they'd find no fiercer Dragonlord than her. Yet, it was balls and feasts, large celebrations, and being feted by the Empire that her aunt most reveled in. To be with family, those here and those that with one look into Dany's eyes, would show that she was now missing as much as she ever had her and Aemon.

A hug, a soft embrace, and a whisper in Dany's ears were followed by a look at her uncle who nodded back to her. While Dany stood and talked with Oberyn's oldest daughters, Rhaenys walked back to her solar and felt the stiffness in her leg come over her long before she reached it. Her uncle offered her his arm and allowed her to place some of her weight on him rather than her leg, which she was most grateful for. Then Oberyn and Barristan both helped her to her chair once they entered the solar.

"You should rest the leg more, my queen," Barristan said worriedly.

"I will, Ser, you have my word on it."

Forgoing the need to rub some of Marwyn's ointment over the wound or to drink down a little of the pain draught he'd left for her. Rhaenys instead steadied herself and readied to give Oberyn the news of the battle against Dorne.

"The Dornish Army has been comprehensively defeated, uncle." Rhaenys began, Oberyn's expression showing he knew or expected this much at least. "Prince Quentyn is among the prisoners taken, wounded but not seriously so."

"Thank the gods." Oberyn sighed with relief.

"My cousin was among the fortunate ones, some were very much not, uncle," Rhaenys said holding out the list of prisoners and the dead.

The shocked look on Oberyn's face was more than enough to tell her that he expected this not. No matter how much she'd told him about how Aemon waged war it didn't truly prepare you for it. Unless and until you actually faced that war yourself and took part in it, it was a hard truth to take. While the battle against the Dornish Army had not been one that Aemon had participated in, it was still one that had his fingerprints all over it.

Rhaenys had tried to mimic his tactics by sending the Second Sons and Daario to do what they did better than any. Aemon had then arrived along with Aurane, adding a dragon to the mix. After that, the outcome was as inevitable as the sun rising of a morn, or so those who knew her husband best would say. Each time that the Empire had sent Aemon out to do its bidding, the result had been the same. Another enemy was vanquished and beaten and Aemon and his second army, returned victorious. She'd tried to tell her uncles that and been ignored, now at least one of them knew so for true.

"Doran can't remain in power, uncle," Rhaenys said, taking Oberyn from his contemplations.

"He is the Prince of Dorne, niece…"

"And Dorne will be conquered and brought into the kingdom that Aemon and I are forging, uncle. I warned you both this would happen and offered you the chance to take a knee rather than be forced to kneel. Dorne may raise other men at arms. They may seek to deny our will on this. But Dorne will kneel and when it does, Doran will rule no longer." Rhaenys said firmly, a small nod of Oberyn's head the only reply.

Rhaenys sighed, rubbed her hand over the bandage that still lay over her wound, and longed to rip it off so she could rub the wound itself.

"Quentyn will never replace his father now, uncle. Though I know it's not the way of Dorne for a second son to come before a first daughter."

"No, it's not."

"Arianne, uncle. I know not if I can trust her or if she'll bear a grudge and so I ask you to be honest with me. For the sake of your House and our kin, you need to be so."

"Ask of me what you wish, niece," Oberyn said, resolvedly.

"Will she accept her father's imprisonment and removal from power? Accept the need for Doran to be placed in a cage, gilded though that cage may be?"

"I…"

"Will she keep to the terms I offer her or will she force me to unleash Aemon fully upon Dorne and our family?" Rhaenys asked, Oberyn looking at her both worriedly and with some hope as she was offering him and Dorne an out that she doubted Aemon would offer without her. "I told both Doran and yourself to look to the rest of Westeros and see what Aemon is capable of, to see the man you wished to stand and fight against. All you've seen up to now has been merely a prelude, uncle."

"Niece?"

"The West has woken the Dragonknight, uncle. Tywin Lannister and his brood are about to see why Essos cowers in fear at my husband's name. I need my cousin to understand this, I need you to understand this. For should you not, then this and not what happened to Quentyn and his army, this is what you'll face next."

Later that day, Oberyn and his three oldest daughters set out for Dorne and a meeting with Princess Arianne. Her uncle carried with him the final offer that would be made to her cousin and her other uncle. Oberyn bore with him the one last offer that she'd then make regarding Doran. Rhaenys hoped that Arianne proved herself smarter than her father had thus far. If she did not then she hoped that Oberyn had the strength of will to do what needed to be done.

"Should the offer be rejected then it falls to you, uncle. Doran stands down and Arianne accepts her new role or they both stand down and are replaced by you. You know what the only other choice to either of these outcomes is, I pray you to bring about one of the other two."

It was not the only prayer that Rhaenys uttered that night. An examination from Marwyn and a question that she bid an answer to, both seeing that prayer answered. Later, as she lay her head down on her pillow, it was with the thought that she'd need to wait but two more days before she and Dany could fly to join Aemon. Two more days before she could offer her husband the comfort of her arms and take just as much comfort from Aemon's own.

"Two more days, my love."

The Goldroad 301 AC.

Ser Denys Arryn.

After kneeling and bringing the Knights of the Vale to the Dragonknight's side, Denys expected that he'd know little but war until Westeros was conquered. Yet, in truth, they'd been asked to fight not at all. He'd not even been given leave to take part in the Trial by Seven, though Elbert had and shamed them in doing so. He, Yohn, and the other lords had all looked on in horror when Elbert turned his cloak and tried to kill Aemon Targaryen. Not that he'd managed to even come close to it and when he'd fallen, none had mourned him.

Seeing the Stormlands kneel and Stannis Baratheon accept Aemon and Rhaenys Targaryen as his king and queen, had allowed for an even truer acceptance from his fellow Valemen. It showed that they had been right to kneel rather than fight. As too did how easily the Dragonknight then took Harrenhal. Denys himself was amazed that with but a handful of men, Aemon Targaryen had taken an impregnable keep and made it his own.

When the Northmen and Riverlords arrived, Denys wondered if they were finally about to shed blood on their new king's behalf. Only for words spoken both by the king and queen and then by Denys himself, to help the North and Riverlands make the same decision that the Vale and Stormlands had. Four kingdoms were defeated and brought to their knees and not a true battle had been fought. It was something that none of them would have believed had they not been there to see it. So they'd expected then that it would be a march and a battle to take the final three, only to be called to speak to the king and queen and given leave to march back to the Vale. Something which stunned Denys completely.

"In time we'll call for you, mayhap. Or things may continue in the same vein as they have thus far and we'll not. Yet, my husband has the men he needs and there are things you must attend to in the Vale are there not?" the queen asked.

"There are, my queen. Though I had thought…"

"You're being here has helped already, Ser Denys. Go set the Vale to rights and should we call, be ready to answer. We ask no more of you than that."

"For now." the king added.

So he'd done as he was bid and while an army marched to Tumbleton, the men of the Riverlands, Vale, Stormlands, and the North were all given leave to march home. Riders were sent on ahead and his family was brought to the Gates of the Moon to greet him. Denys was more than happy to see and embrace Jeyne again. As he was too to see his children, Jaspar and Rowena. At Yohn's behest, he, Lady Anya, Ser Symond Templeton, Lord Gilwood Hunter, Lord Benedar Belmore, Lord Horton Redfort, and Yohn, along with his wife and children, made their way to the Eyrie. Once there, they'd hold a meeting with their former king and allow Jon Arryn to decide what future he sought for himself.

They held a short meeting where Elbert's actions were discussed and condemned. Followed by a longer one with Lady Rowan, Elbert's widow, where Denys spoke of her future and assured her that she would be provided for. Later, at a much longer meeting, the governance of the Vale and its place in the newly conquered kingdoms was discussed. Jon Arryn removed himself from any role other than an offer to act as a counselor to Denys should he need it, while Denys then made certain appointments that were well received. Less than a sennight later, they received word that Aemon and Rhaenys Targaryen had added another kingdom to their collection. Again doing so without the need for battle.

"Surely it cannot be so easy." Jon Arryn said as he and Denys sat in his solar in the Eyrie.

"You saw the Bloody Gate, Jon. How long has it stood and held back our enemies and yet…."

"It leaves but Dorne and the West, lest the Dragonknight looks to the Iron Islands too."

"He will in time, no doubt," Denys said as Jon nodded.

"Tywin won't kneel so easily, nor Doran Martell I wager."

"Doran is kin to her grace, Jon."

"And the Dornish are ever proud and ever prickly," Jon replied and Denys nodded. "As for the Old Lion."

There had been no need to say more and Jon Arryn had quickly been proved right in his assessment. An alliance between Dorne and the West caught them all by surprise, however. A true war and at the very least a battle was now inevitable and so Denys and the Knights of the Vale had awaited a call, only for none to come. Instead, it had been emissaries from the Empire. Men who were called forth by either the king or queen so that new and more expansive trade routes and opportunities for the Vale could be discussed. The Queen's words had come to Denys' mind as he and the other lords worked out the coin that would be added to their coffers.

"We seek all to rise, Ser Denys. The Empire is generous to those who fall under its protection and so too shall we be. What you'll pay us in taxes will seem little compared to what you can and will earn by your fealty."

So, in truth, little had changed and things had soon returned to a somewhat normal in the Vale. Denys was now Warden and had almost the same powers as a king, if not the crown of one. Jon Arryn was able to settle into a routine of doing things he wished to do rather than those he was expected to do. Jaspar was given more extensive training to be the heir to the Vale that he now was and marriage prospects for both his children were even more carefully considered. Other than that, and the rebuilding of the Bloody Gate, life was as it had always been.

Then the ravens arrived. First, one that told of the Field of Fire and how three Lannister armies had been defeated in a single day. Followed by the news that the Dornish army had been defeated in the Stormlands too. All of which preceded the final one that called for the Knights of the Vale and bid Denys to raise his banners. Something he did unhesitatingly and as per the Dragonknight's specific instructions.

To the Warden of the East,

Ser Denys, I bid you to call your banners and rally the Knights of the Vale. Once you've done so, you are to march along the Goldroad and head to Casterly Rock. Your knights, Ser Denys, your mounted men are all I seek for upon your arrival you'll find that you're not the only army that's been called for. The time has come for the Lions to fall, Ser Denys. Make haste, march fast but not hard, and show me your fealty means more than words.

Aemon Targaryen,

King of Westeros.

There had never been a question of not answering the call. Not only did none care much about the Lannisters, but oaths had been sworn and the Valemen believed they lived up to their oaths as well if not better than any. So Denys said his goodbyes once again to his wife and children. He left Jaspar in charge, with Jon Arryn offering his counsel to his son, and then with close to 10,000 mounted men, Denys set off and left the Vale behind once more.

By the time they reached the Crossroads, they'd learned more of what had happened and some of it was most shocking indeed. The queen had been injured, though not seriously. Mace Tyrell and Gwayne Gardener had been killed, one in a battle and the other had resulted in the kidnapping of Margaery Tyrell by persons unknown. Highgarden had come under attack and with the Dragonknight away in Essos, it had fallen to Queen Rhaenys and Princess Daenerys to come to its aid. Something they'd both done quickly and decisively.

From there it was rumor and speculation and so until they met up with the king's forces, they couldn't be certain what had happened. What they'd heard was that the princess had brought her dragon to bear against two separate Lannister Armies while the Queen had faced the other. In the Stormlands, Stannis Baratheon had faced off against the Dornish Army and had been given aid by a fourth Dragonrider. Before the Dragonknight and the Blood Wyrm's return had added their own might to the queen's fight.

How much of it was true or not, was hard to ascertain. The battles occurred, of that they'd no doubt, and the Dragonknight was certainly a part of them. Whether King Aemon wished for credit for the victories to be shared or they truly had been won how Denys and the Knights of the Vale heard they had, they knew not. What they knew was that the North had risen and they marched along the River Road to the same destination as Denys now did. While along the Ocean Road, the Dragonknight and the Reach marched too.

"I wished for a battle, hoped for one, even. It seems the Gods listened and I'll be gifted at least one before this war is won." Denys whispered to himself as they rode along the Gold Road and neared Deep Den.

The Conquest of Westeros LIX.

The Dragon Princess.

Princess Daenerys Targaryen, Dragonrider to Nightwing and for many years thought to be the most gentle soul in the Empire, was a regular visitor to the Kingdom that the Dragonknight and the Princess of the Sun had forged. From her first hurried visit after an incident with Gerold Dayne. The Darkstar later finding out why touching a dragon without consent only ever led to death, to those later when the wars were won and peace reigned, she and Nightwing were welcome sights. As too where her children, Rhaegar and Rhaenys, and their own dragons, Nightfyre and Darkwing.

Wed to her cousin and the commander of the Second Army, Haegon, the princess grew to be one of the fiercest of all the Dragonlords. From her earliest battles in the fields of Westeros against the Lions of Casterly Rock to the battles of the Last War against the Dothraki and then those of the Great War. The princess showed more than once that those who looked at her and saw her diminutive size, and friendly nature, and believed her weak, were very much mistaken.

At her husband's side, Princess Daenerys helped the Second Army maintain the standards that the Dragonknight had raised them to. So much so that even the Dragonknight was oft heard japing that the Empire needed him not with his aunt around. Though the most heard jape was that the Dragonknight had always known that no man could ever fill his shoes, but that his aunt was not a man and her dainty little feet filled them most easily.

A friend to the Targaryens of Westeros, a Sword and Shield to the Empire, a mother and a wife, Princess Daenerys was many things to many people. Yet, to the Dragonknight and to the Princess of the Sun, for all her life she remained, simply.

"Dany"

A history of the conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

Harrenhal 301 AC.

Daenerys Targaryen.

The dreams had finally stopped. Daenerys truly welcomed the full nights of sleep that she once again enjoyed. No one but Aemon had ever told her this. None but he had ever even thought to do so and she still thanked him in her mind for doing so. For had he not, then she may have feared she was losing her mind. Rather than simply dealing with all she'd done, as Aemon had named it.

"You'll feel the urge to use some Dreamwine, Dany. Forgo that urge, suffer through it and you'll be the better for it."

"I'm tired, Aemon. I'm so very tired," she said softly.

"I know, but waking up is part of it, Dany. Trust me it's far better than being forced to sleep through it and being unable to wake."

"How long? How long must I suffer so?"

She felt her nephew's arms wrap around her and he kissed her cheek softly.

"I know not. For some, it could be a day, more, for others…"

"It will stop though? I'll not feel this way forever?" She asked worriedly and Aemon kissed her cheek once more.

"You are stronger than most men I know, Dany. No, you'll not feel this way forever and when you come through it, you'll be even stronger because of it."

"I will?"

"Did Rhaenys ever tell you what I told her about you?" Aemon asked and she shook her head.

"I said that one day, you'll be the terror and wonder of the Empire. That you carry a strength within you that few women or men do. My fierce little aunt, who feels things with a passion I envy her for."

"You do?"

"I do," Aemon said kissing her cheek once more.

He'd been right, she'd suffered for a few days and while during that suffering, Dany believed she'd lose her mind, she very much did not. Even though she walked around Harrenhal almost in a daze because of lack of sleep, she still walked. Dany still rose each and every morning and worried as much about Rhaenys or Aemon, mourned Torgho Nudho, and feared for Thoros, Daario, and Aurane as much as she did for her sanity. When the night came that she dreamed not, Dany slept a full night's sleep and woke up refreshed the next morning.

A night without the images of men and horses ablaze. Where she heard not the anguished screams of men that she and Nightwing burned and killed. Followed by a morning when she ate the first hearty meal that she'd broken her fast on in days. An afternoon where she took to the sky and flew for pleasure as she'd not done since the battles in the Reach. Then a night where she and Rhaenys sat and chatted about little and nothing, rather than some of the silent nights they'd shared more than once since arriving back at Harrenhal.

Dany welcomed her bed that night even more so. Almost jumping into it in her excitement at the thoughts of a dreamless sleep. Though the dreams came to her still, even if they were far different than the nightmares had been. Dreams of Volantis, of Viserys, her Goodsister, and her nieces and nephews. Of Aegon and Talisa. Elia and Rhaegar. She dreamt of balls and feasts and of being a Princess of the Empire and when Dany opened her eyes the next morning, it was a sadness that she awoke to.

"I miss my family," Dany exclaimed, almost shocking herself with her words and more so by the next ones she uttered. "I miss my home."

When she broke her fast with Rhaenys and the youngest Sand Snakes, along with Prince Oberyn's Paramour, Dany was far quieter than she'd been the day before. Not even the younger girl's antics were enough to bring a true smile to her face. Hoping that Rhaenys took it as Dany having another nightmare, she excused herself and almost rushed back to her room. Throwing herself on the bed once she got there and giving in to the tears that then fell freely.

A knock on the door was followed by soft footsteps and an even softer hand brushing through her silver hair. Then a tight and true embrace where she was allowed to cry as much as she wished or needed to. Whispered words of comfort that only Rhaenys was ever truly able to offer her and no pressing of her to tell her niece what was wrong or what ailed her so. In this, Rhaenys was much like Aemon. They both at times were so able to see her moods that words needed not to be spoken. Other times, her moods were unknown even to Dany and so they could not be to anyone else.

"I know, Dany. I know." Rhaenys said softly as her hand brushed her back in small circles.

"I don't want to leave, I don't…I want to stay with Aemon and with you…I…Gods, I miss them all, Rhae…why do I miss them all so much?"

Her words were a lie, she knew it, Rhaenys knew, and were he here to hear them, then Aemon would no doubt know it too. She did wish to leave, more than that, she knew she had to. As much as she may want it to be, Westeros was not her home. It was an adventure, a thing she'd needed to do and see and that was it. More than that, it was simply a dragon ride away.

Dany composed herself, allowed Rhaenys to wipe away her tears, and felt such a fool for being so emotional. Looking into her niece's eyes, she saw no judgment and no anger. Which brought a half smile to her face and allowed her tears to stop falling. Her niece and nephew would blame her not for leaving. They'd miss her and she them, but they'd not feel she'd abandoned them and a single look at Rhaenys was enough to tell her that they both would understand. Even had it not been, the words that Rhaenys now spoke would undoubtedly do so.

"Aemon and I knew it was to be just a visit, Dany. We know this was never to be your home. You're a Princess of the Empire. You belong in the sun and are the Darling of Volantis." Rhaenys said, making Dany's smile grow larger. "But, you're not to leave without promising another visit. Not to get wed without inviting both Aemon and me to judge the man who'd seek your hand. And not to leave alone."

"Rhaenys?"

"Aurane or Aemon, Dany. One of them flies with you, on that I'll not be dissuaded." her niece said firmly.

"I'm…" Dany began, about to say that she was a Dragonlord now and had faced men who wished her harm. She was not the same naïve and protected little girl they all saw her as. Or so she would have said had Rhaenys not placed her finger on her lips and brought a giggle from Dany for doing so.

"Aemon would demand it, Dany. After what happened with the assassins, Aemon would demand it, you know he would."

"Very well, I'll not fly alone," Dany said, a mummery of being annoyed when in truth she welcomed the thought of sharing the long flight back to Volantis with someone else rather than in solitude.

Coming to Westeros she'd been upset, angry, and fearful. What Gerold Dayne had said and tried to do had sent her running to Rhaenys and Aemon. So she'd not truly noticed that she'd flown alone. Nor been bothered by it. Dany no longer felt how she had felt then and while flying atop Nightwing was one of her greatest pleasures, she knew she'd grow bored and tired of it on the journey back to her home. She'd not now be flying alone and though it meant the journey would not be for some time yet, it bothered her not.

"Now come, I'll seek to enjoy every single moment I've left with my aunt before she leaves me all alone," Rhaenys said and Dany's mood would have turned guilty or even sad was it not for the beaming smile on her niece's face as she spoke.

"You're terrible. I hate you." Dany said, sticking out her tongue and giggling loudly when Rhaenys did the same back to her.

"I hate you too, my sweet aunt."

The River Road 301 AC.

Ned Stark.

The army that marched to the West was a smaller one that had marched south just a few moons earlier. Though, as then, it now marched with the same objective in mind. Justice for fallen kin. Blood that was owed to the North and House Stark and that was soon to be shed. This time Ned marched with no doubts, no fears, or worries. For he knew that in truth the North wasn't truly needed to take down the West and House Lannister.

They'd been joined by the Blackfish and close to five thousand mounted men of the Riverlands, bringing their number to almost fifteen thousand. Brynden had quickly informed them even more about what had happened in the Reach and the Stormlands. Of how under Queen Rhaenys and Princess Daenerys' commands, two of Tywin Lannister's armies had been beaten comprehensively. Ned, Benjen, Robb, and Torrhen, along with the Lords and Ladies of the North had listened as they were told that an army led by Stannis Baratheon and joined by a fourth Dragonrider had beaten the Dornish Army in the Stormlands. Before then being told that Aemon had returned from a journey to Essos, one that Ned was somewhat aware of the reason for, and had destroyed the Old Lion's main army once he'd done so.

There were other tales too, though the veracity of them couldn't yet be proven. Deaths of Gwayne Gardener and Mace Tyrell, something about a kidnapping of the Tyrell's oldest daughter and of an injury to the queen. Ned was not the only one hoping the latter was either untrue or at least minor. Other than that, the news was far more simple and far more direct. Aemon had marched with an army from the Reach, the Knights of the Vale had been called and now marched too, and along with their own army, Casterly Rock was their destination. Before they could reach that, however, they had to pass through the Golden Tooth. So the Greatjon mayhap get his wish to wet his sword in Westerman blood soon enough.

"Your orders, Prince Eddard?" the Blackfish said from beside him, taking Ned from his thoughts and forcing him to look at Cat's uncle and at the men who rode nearest to him.

"We parley, Ser Brynden," he said, to some disappointed looks, the Greatjon's most of all. "I doubt that the defenders of that keep wish to slow our march, not at the risk they'd bring to themselves."

"They are men of the West and the Old Lion has a fierce reputation, my prince." Tytos Blackwood said.

"Aye, I doubt that reputation means as much as it once did now that the dragons look his way," Ned replied to some laughs. "Jon, Rickard, fly a flag of truce and offer a parley to the defenders of the keep."

"At once, my prince."

Robb and Torrhen looked at him confused, while Benjen seemed more than pleased by his words. Around him, the men of the Riverlands simply accepted that since he was Aemon's kin, and had been named a prince by the Queen, that was enough for them to take their lead from him, for now. Once they joined up with Aemon's army, even Ned would be taking his lead from his nephew, prince or not.

It was a funny thing. He'd believed he'd given up a crown and all royal titles. Had been happy to be named a Warden as long as the North was accepted into the new kingdom and treated fairly. Something he had no fear of with his nephew or Goodniece and which had been proven true already in the boons granted to the North since he'd knelt. The extra trade and access to learned men who knew more about building and getting the best from the lands than even those who'd grown up and lived their whole lives in the North. So, Ned had been more than happy with his lot, only to then be told that House Stark would bear the title of Prince or Princess from here on in as well.

Why that was, he knew not. Whether it truly mattered or not, he was unsure. That they were being honored for some reason, was more than clear, however. So he and his, Benjen and his, all would be named princes and princesses of the North, and in time mayhap that would prove a boon too. Now smiling to himself, Ned looked at the other boons that traveled with them, the two very large Direwolves that raced now to join their masters. It was as he was doing this that the Greatjon and Rickard Karstark rode back from their initial parley.

"The lady will meet us outside her gates, my prince." Rickard Karstark said the moment his voice could be heard.

"They seek a fight?" Benjen asked and the Greatjon laughed loudly.

"I fucking doubt it, my prince." Jon Umber guffawed. "The woman damn near shat herself at the sight of me and Karstark here."

Ned hid his smile. It had been the reason he'd sent the two gruffest lords amongst them to organize the parley. Other than men from the Mountain Clans, few of whom he'd asked to march, The Greatjon and Rickard Karstark would stand out as what these Southerners believed Northmen to be. Savages. Looking then at the size of the army at their gates, Ned believed that only a fool or a madman would then seek to try and hold a keep that would eventually fall.

"Ser Brynden, Lord Blackwood, Maege, Roose, Ser Wylis, Benjen, I'd ask you to join me for the parley. Jon, Rickard, the army is yours and Prince Robb's until my return." Ned said looking to his son who nodded and rode to join the Lords of Last Hearth and Karhold.

Six men and one woman rode to the parley, setting up just beyond any archers' range of the gates of the Golden Tooth. Ned dismounted which gave the others the leave to do the same and then a party the same size as their own rode toward them. Leading it was a lady who seemed to have seen her fiftieth year at least. Golden-haired, though some of it was turning grey, drawn, and pale, the woman looked as if she had the weight of the word on her shoulders. Yet she rode side saddle and looked every inch the lady as she did so.

"Lord Stark." the lady greeted him stiffly when she was helped down from her horse.

"Prince Stark, Lady Lefford." Ser Brynden corrected.

"Forgive me, my prince."

"There's naught to forgive, Lady Lefford," Ned said, trying to put the older woman at ease. He'd no wish to scare her any more than was absolutely necessary and had never taken with frightening women. "You know why I'm here?"

"I believe so, I…hope so." the lady said shakily. "A raven from King Aemon." Lady Lefford said, her hand shaking as she handed Ned the raven's scroll.

He read it quickly, nodding at the words and then looking at the lady once he'd done so.

"You'll allow us to pass unhindered?" he asked and the lady nodded as firmly as her fear would allow.

"You'll tell the king we did so?"

"You have my word, Lady Lefford."

"I...I thank you, my prince."

Behind him, six sets of eyes looked at him in disbelief, trying to understand what had just happened and Ned knew that he'd need to speak to them before they returned to where the rest of his army awaited. Firstly, he had to put the woman in front of him even more at ease, so he spoke the words and rejected the offer as politely as he could.

"I thank you, Lady Lefford. Yet we carry our own supplies and I'd seek not to take from your own stocks. Winter is coming, after all."

"That it is, Prince Eddard." the lady replied. "I'll not wish you good fortune, my prince. I pray that you do not think harshly of me because of it."

"I will not, my lady."

With that, it was over. The Golden Tooth and Ned would wager Ashemark too would pose no hindrance to their march. Mounting back up on his horse, Ned waited until Lady Lefford and her escort had ridden back to their keep before he then turned to those with him.

"All the Houses in the West were bid to stand down or face the Dragonknight's Wroth. Some were informed that their kin was being held prisoner and would be the first to do so. Aemon has informed the West that he marches for the Lions and only the Lions, as does his allies. Any who impede that march name themselves as his enemies and his enemies will know only fire and blood." Ned said as some of those with him laughed loudly, while others seemed a little warier of his nephew's words.

"My old Maester was right then." the Blackfish said, all eyes now turning to him. "The Quill truly is mightier than the Sword."

Even Ned laughed at that, and the ride back to their army was one that was done with good cheer. Within the hour they were on the march again. Each mile brought him closer to fulfilling the Blood Oath that he, Benjen, and others had sworn. Every hour was another one that led them closer to seeing the Old Lion and his Pride, pay for all they'd taken from them. Winter was coming was his House's words and as they rode, Ned promised himself that it would not be a winter that the Lions would live to see arrive.

Lannisport 301 AC.

Willas Tyrell.

Garlan's wounds hadn't completely healed which Willas was actually happy about. Had they done so, then his brother would have sought to march West, leaving their grandmother, mother, and sister, to hold Highgarden alone. Loras now wore a white cloak and rode close to the king and beside Ser Arthur Dayne. His brother was as proud as Willas had ever seen him and because of the honor he'd been granted, Loras could not do anything other than join the march.

The king had personally asked for Willas to do so too, which left him with no other choice but to follow Aemon's orders. Yet Garlan because of his injury had been left behind and it comforted Willas to know that Highgarden and their family were safe and well. As it did to be part of the army that marched West if truth be told. To be there and see the Lions brought low and their House ended. For no one deserved their fate more in Willas' mind. Blood begat blood and the Lions had taken his father's blood already.

"Would have taken Marge's too were it not for the Dragonknight'

Willas believed that completely. Despite the fact that it was Randyll Tarly who'd organized the attack on his family and Dickon Tarly who'd actually taken his sister, hostage, it was the Lions who were truly at fault. Randyll was a loud fool, a man who'd have remained simply that until he'd spoken too freely and Aemon Targaryen or one of his men had then taken him from this world. With the Old Lion's backing, he'd been put in a position to kill Willas' father and kidnap his sister.

'A far better position than that he was in now' Willas thought and smirked at the suffering that Randyll Tarly knew nightly.

Every single night on the march, the screams came from where the prisoners were being held. Yet, Willas and others all knew that those screams belonged to one man and one man alone. Randyll Tarly had secrets to give up and Aemon Targaryen wished to know those secrets. So each night, Daario Naharis went about his work and the day drew ever closer when Randyll had spoken of all he knew and would then be sent to the seven hells where he belonged.

As for the other prisoners. Tyrion and Joffrey Lannister would both suffer greatly before they too met their ends. None but the king or his men were allowed to see them and from all that Loras had told him, they'd been treated well enough on the march. Though his brother and one of the king's men had confided in Willas that Joffrey had suffered greatly already. The Prince of the Rock had been caught trying to rape a woman and had lost his manhood because of it. It was not all he'd be losing and like his grandfather, the Old Lion, Joffrey Lannister's day of reckoning was almost here.

The King was a much different man than he'd been on the few occasions that Willas had spoken to him. Though he'd not considered Aemon Targaryen to be the most open of men, on this march he was a closed book to any but those closest to him. Focussed only on what it was he wished to do and how he was to do so, Aemon spoke little and smiled less. Though Willas remembered he'd laughed at something Margaery had said before they'd left Highgarden and that he seemed more relaxed when he talked to Aurane Velaryon than with anyone else.

'My future Goodbrother'

After a few weeks of riding and finding no obstacle in their way and keeps almost abandoned, the looming sight of Casterly Rock soon came into view. Yet, to Willas' surprise, they marched right past it and onto Lannisport. The battle, if you could call it that, lasted less than half a day. Two dragons laid down fire that opened the gates and with their roars and threatened flames, followed by a ride from Aemon's men, the city was taken.

Some prisoners were rounded up, given the chance to kneel, and asked their names. The few that answered Lannister soon found that it was no longer a name to be feared and were offered but two choices. Death by fire or death by the sword, far too many of them choose the latter of those things. For almost a full day, heads rolled. Each of them fell to Dark Sister and be they women, children, or old men, it saved them not.

It shocked him, truly it did and he was not alone in that. Mathis Rowan, Lord Ashford, and others spoke to him and asked Willas if it was right that they followed such a man. Willas then spoke as simply and directly as he could in reply.

"The Reynes and the Tarbecks, my Lords. All of you know the song," he said to nods. "What plans do you think the Old Lion had for my House? For the King and Queen? Do you think he would show mercy?"

"But women and children, my lord."

"Lannisters, my lord," he replied angrily.

The truth of it was that he felt as they did. Willas believed that Aemon had gone too far. Yet, who was there among them who could stop him, and really, did any of them truly wish to do so? He knew not and mayhap it would take until all this was ended for him to know how he truly felt. An end that was soon to come as after securing the city, making sure it was theirs, and leaving a garrison behind, they marched then to Casterly Rock.

Within a day of doing so, the Northmen arrived. A day later, so too did the Knights of the Vale. Other than two flights atop the Blood Wyrm, the Dragonknight did nothing of note. Today, however, they were all called to witness the end of a man that Willas, Loras and he knew his grandmother, mother, brother, and sister, would all cheer.

Randyll was broken, physically, mentally, and emotionally too, Willas would wager. Dragged out to a block, with the Lords of the Reach, North, Riverlands, and the Knights of the Vale all looking on, he shook, cried, and at one point almost wet himself at the sight of Daario Naharis. Whatever secrets he'd held, had been given up. The truths he'd spilled were known only to Daario Naharis, Thoros of Myr, Aurane Velaryon, and Aemon Targaryen. Today it was the last of those who now sentenced the men to death.

"For the crime of betraying your liege house and treason against your king and queen, I, King Aemon of House Targaryen, sentence you to death. Speak whatever words you wish to and I'll send you to the seven hells where you belong." Aemon said. His words were like ice as they resounded loudly in the still of the morning.

There were no words from Randyll Tarly. None more were spoken by Aemon Targaryen either. Dark Sister was unsheathed and Aemon took Randyll's head as easily and as efficiently as he had all those in Lannisport. One swing and it was done, Willas looked to Loras who nodded back to him as Randyll's head rolled along the ground.

"See he's buried deep," Aemon said as he moved away from the body that still gushed blood from the open neck where once a head had been. "Ready the other prisoners, the day of their ends is upon them too," Aemon said loudly, the words sending a shiver down Willas' spine for he doubted that Tyrion and Joffrey Lannister would find their ends as swiftly or as cleanly.

The sound of dragons flying forced all eyes to the sky and the sight of the Queen and the Princess brought smiles to most of the faces there. Not to the Dragonknight's, however, as Aemon 's brow creased and he walked to his tent and not to greet his wife and aunt.

Something that once again showed it was not Prince Aemon or even King Aemon that led this army, but the Dragonknight himself.

Lannisport/Casterly Rock.

Aurane Velaryon.

All through the march Aurane had worried just how far Aemon was willing to go. The loss of Torgho Nudho weighed heavily on them all, but Aemon outwardly seemed to be unaffected by it. Only those who truly knew the Dragonknight well would see that this was far from true. If you knew where to look, knew Aemon's moods, as well as Aurane, Daario, Thoros, and some of their men, did, then you'd see it in his grey eyes every so often. It was there too in how, at times, Aemon would turn to say something to a man who was no longer there.

Yet, the Lords of the West and the Lannister prisoners had been treated well, or as well as could be expected. Joffrey had been bandaged up and allowed to recover, and Tyrion had been given the same meals that Aurane himself ate. While the Lords of the West, their heirs, or those lucky few who'd survived Nightwing, Meraxes, and then the Blood Wyrm's flames, had been given the option to kneel. They'd been bid to watch what happened to those who did not before they would then be released back to their families after they'd sworn their fealty.

Given the sheer devastation that all three dragons had wrought on them and their men, Aurane found few of them unwilling to name Aemon and Rhaenys their king and queen. Tywin Lannister may have instilled fear into the hearts of the Lords of the West with his actions against the Reynes and the Tarbecks. Most of them may have worried that one day they too could be little more than names that were sung. Compared to what the dragons had done to them, however, those were pleasant dreams and the Lords of the West had now witnessed the true nightmare firsthand.

"A nightmare that has not yet run its course," Aurane whispered as he made his way to the dragons where he knew Aemon would already be.

Their other prisoner had not been so well treated. Randyll Tarly had questions to answer and had been living on borrowed time ever since Tumbleton. The proud Lord of Horn Hill may have believed himself capable of withstanding anything they dared to do to him, as he'd called out loudly more than once. He may even have believed the words he said about doing his gods' work and so having their protection. It saved him not and his death when it came, was most probably one that was welcomed.

"My men are experts in getting secrets from those who wish to hold onto them," Aemon said as Daario, Jaedor, and Valarr, entered the tent. "Call out for your gods and bid them help you all you wish. By the time I'm done with you, we'll both find out if they exist or not."

Seeing the dragons come into view and Aemon standing there as he'd expected, Aurane was able to fight back the shudder that almost went through him as he remembered Randyll Tarly's fate. Days, weeks, each and every night, Daario went to work and Lucaeron took notes. Their prize was a list of twenty-two men of the Faith who'd soon be joining Tarly in the afterlife. If there was indeed such a thing.

It had been tooth and claw that Aemon had wished to take Tarly from the world. Then fire, and finally after much persuasion on Aurane's part, Dark Sister. Westeros was not ready to see men burned as a way of execution. No matter how much more humane it truly was. People would not see the quickness of the death or the lack of suffering, they'd see naught but the fire and a man being burned alive. As for the other, only the worst of the worst were ever sentenced to such by Aemon or the High Emperor. None here would understand, or so Aurane had told him.

"Would that I'd kept silent with the others," Aurane whispered, and this time he did shudder.

Lannisport had fallen to a true attack by Aemon and their men. The dragons had been used to lead the way and open the gates, before providing protection from above. As well as putting the fear, of a like that made most men crumble, into the defenders below. While Daario and the Second Sons, Thoros and his Flames of Dragons, some of Aurane's own Sea Snakes, and Torgho Timpa's Unsullied were who then took the city.

It fell so easily that at first Aurane believed it to be a mummery. A trap waiting to be sprung, though later they found it was because the Old Lion sought to heavily garrison the Rock and had needed the men. A welcome piece of information, yet not one that brought Aemon any joy or stopped him from what he planned to do. Nor did Aurane's, Thoros', or even Daario's words.

"They are Lannisters, there are no innocent Lannisters." Aemon declared before he walked away and readied to execute the prisoners.

Four and ten had lost their heads. Most of them men, some boys, but two women and a girl who was not yet two and ten, Aurane would wager. No pleas, no amount of crying, and certainly no looks of distaste from their allies had stayed Aemon's hand. So long did it take, so red was the blood on Dark Sister's blade by the time it was done, that Aurane found himself unsure whether he'd been right to talk Aemon out of using the Blood Wyrm. What he was less unsure about was trying to talk him out of what he was about to do now.

"You're ready?" Aemon asked as he neared the dragons and Aurane nodded.

"You're certain that you don't wish Meraxes and Nightwing to join us?" Aurane asked.

"No, this is on me."

It was that simple. The Dragonknight was in full effect and not Aemon's uncles or cousins who'd arrived with the Northern Army. Not those who'd marched with him and had known him for years, or the allies they'd made since coming to these lands. Not his aunt or even his wife would change his mind on what he was about to do and what plans he had once he'd finished here.

A nod from Aurane, then a short walk to Darkfyre and a quick climb up onto his dragon's back. Aemon did likewise on the Blood Wyrm and carried the bloodied sack with him as he did so. Then a roar from both dragons and a moment later they took to the sky. Beneath them, their army's camp stretched as far as the eye could see. Siege machines that would never be used had been pushed close enough to Casterly Rock that it seemed as if that was to be their intent. Though it would not be a traditional siege that those inside the keep were to face.

Two large stakes stood just out of archer range but well within viewing distance from the large walls of the Rock. For now, both had no one tied to them, very soon they would have the Stunted Lion and the Mangy Cat, as Aemon had taken to name Tyrion and Joffrey Lannister. As for the sack that Aemon carried, it contained heads of the Lannisters of Lannisport and of some others that had fallen in the Reach. Heads that were soon to be given back to their kin.

They flew over the rocky ground, smoke still billowing from where Aemon and the Blood Wyrm had cleared their path to the keep. Daario had been sent to map out the Westerlands and Casterly Rock itself and had taken note of murder holes and hidden defenses. None of which caused them a problem anymore as they'd been destroyed and the men inside them had burned to death. As too had some ships that the Old Lion believed hidden and protected in a cove below the keep. An escape plan that would now never come to fruition.

"Archers!" Aurane shouted out as men atop the walls readied to fire their arrows not at the dragons but at the riders who sat atop them. "Eglikta." (Higher) he called out and Darkfyre did as he bid.

The Blood Wyrm didn't fly higher though. Aemon in fact bid his dragon drop lower and then unleashed a wave of flames on those atop the wall that either took their lives from them or sent them running for cover. Then, almost as if they were hovering over the keep, the sack was dropped and the Blood Wyrm roared loudly. Once, twice, three times before the red dragon turned and flew back toward the front of their lines. Aurane bid Darkfyre land and no sooner had they dismounted than Aemon was moving to the tents where the Lannisters were being held, prisoner.

There was no greeting with Rhaenys or Daenerys, no acknowledgment of his uncles or cousins' presence. Aemon walked by them all and entered the tent before walking out a moment later. Behind him, Tyrion Lannister and his nephew were dragged unceremoniously by four Unsullied. Aurane, Rhaenys, Daenerys, and everyone there could all see the fear on both their faces and the look of hopelessness on Tyrion Lannisters'. Escape was beyond them, changing their fate was a forlorn hope, and not even should Rhaenys bid Aemon to desist, would they be saved.

"TYWIN! TYWIN LANNISTER!" Aemon shouted as Tyrion and Joffrey were tied to the stakes, "BEHOLD THE FATE OF LIONS!"

Casterly Rock 301 AC.

Jaime Lannister.

They'd made every preparation they could to withstand the inevitable siege. Had brought men and supplies from Lannisport to bolster their defenses. His father had secreted boats and ships to take them from the Rock if need be while ravens had been sent to their Bannermen to call up more men and to slow the Dragons' approach.

Alysanne and Cersei had both needed his comfort and yet it was only one of them he could give it to. His agreement with his wife had been a hard one to live up to at times, but it was an oath he'd sworn to her and one of the few that he'd kept. The children were frightened and not even his aunt telling them all, that the Rock had never been taken by any army, was enough to chase away those fears. While, in his father's solar, the truth of what they faced was discussed far more openly and truly.

They'd lost most of their strength in the three battles in one day that had devastated their armies. Lost kin, who were either dead, held prisoner, or as in the case of Gerion, deserted them. His uncle having arrived back before Jaime and his father did and simply gathered his possessions, took his portable wealth, and along with his daughter had then left Casterly Rock and Lannisport far behind.

"I almost joined him". Genna said softly after they'd both listened to his father's rage.

"Surely not?"

"All that avails is flight, Jaime. Gerion is no fool and never have I seen him as scared as I did upon his return here. Nor heard him speak so passionately about his daughter"

It had made Jaime think of his own, his sons, the women he loved, his father, and his brother. Tyrion had not returned and they knew not if he lived or died. They were not the only thoughts he had as the dragons drew ever closer. As one overriding one came to him each and every night. A chance to save his House and his family, and one that he begged the gods to give him.

'It's the only chance we've truly got' he said to himself, more than once.

When the army actually arrived on their lands, they truly made ready for the siege. Only to find it was Lannisport that they made for before they even looked to the Rock. Jaime asked for and was denied leave to ride out and attack them from the rear. His words that they'd be so preoccupied with taking Lannisport had fallen on deaf ears, as his father said they had not the men and to face them in an open field was folly.

'A pity he'd not thought that way sooner than now'

When Lannisport fell, everyone at the Rock was stunned. Less than half a day it held out for and while Jaime knew they'd taken much and many men from it, he'd hoped it would last longer than that. Then the red dragon had flown their way and from a hidden place within the Rock, Jaime, Genna, and his father had looked on as all the defenses that covered the path to the Rock had fallen one by one.

"How did he know?" Genna asked, to no answer for there was none that either his father or he could give.

The day the army set up outside their walls, was a day when even Jaime knew what fear truly felt like. Aemon Targaryen had brought the might of the Reach, Riverlands, Vale, and the North to bear. Banners of House Tyrell, House Rowan, and House Redwyne. Those of Houses Royce, Arryn, Waynwood, and Templeton. Houses Blackwood, Bracken, Tully, and Mallister along with the banners of the North. The grey wolf of House Stark flew high and there clearly for all to see.

Above them all, a two-headed dragon locked in an embrace, their heads red and silver, Aemon, and Rhaenys Targaryen's personal sigil. Not that any of them needed to see it to know that the Dragonknight was here. Jaime chanced a look at his father and watched as his eyes grew wide and even Tywin Lannister looked fearful of what he brought down on all their heads. He looked to Cersei who wept openly and to Alysanne who did her best to comfort the children. Then he took one look at the army that had come to end them and sought out the one man whose death may stop that from happening.

He didn't find him that day. Instead, it was two days later that two dragons flew toward the Rock, and from atop the walls, the archers were ordered to fire. Only to quickly find that true fire was a much harder beast to master. Jaime stood in cover and far from the walls and he looked on as the red dragon seemed to hover. Then to his and everyone else's surprise, a bloodied sack was dropped from the Dragonknight's hands and fell crashing to the ground.

The sound it made as it landed a few feet from where Jaime stood, was more than enough to tell him a little about what that sack contained. Though even he was shocked by what he found when he looked inside it.

Men, women, children, it had mattered not, all had lost their heads. His kin, cousins both those he was close to and those he was not, as well as an uncle whose fate had finally been revealed. Kevan had very much not escaped from their failed attack in the Reach. It angered Jaime as much as it worried him. For Tyrion's fate was even more up in the dark now than it had been already. As for his father, again, Jaime believed that he saw fear in the Old Lion's eyes when he looked upon his kinsmen's heads. While Genna mourned the brother, nephew, and most of all the son that she'd lost to the Dragonknight's Wroth.

'I have to face him. I have to kill him else this is to be all our fates'

The thought became a demand of his father and one that was swiftly rejected. Jaime was told to stay behind the walls and that there was nothing he could do for the dead. Only to then find that he had the living to worry about too.

"TYWIN! TYWIN LANNISTER!" a voice shouted out "BEHOLD THE FATE OF LIONS!"

Jaime, his aunt, and his father. Cersei and Alysanne, the children, along with the defenders of the Rock, all looked on as two figures were dragged out and tied to the stakes. It took him only a moment to recognize one of them and the second was identified both by Joffrey's loud pained cry for his mother and for Cersei's even louder one for her son.

"MOTHER! HELP ME! FATHEEEERRRR PLEASE!"

"My boy, my precious boy, I must….I must go to him….No, he needs me, he neeeeeddddssssss MEEEEE!" Cersei wailed.

It was Addam who offered Cersei comfort, while Jaime looked to his father who shook his head, and to Genna who placed a hand on his shoulder. They may have even been able to stop him from leaving had the screams not then begun. Jaime moved to the window to look out as with Dark Sister in his hand, Aemon Targaryen began to cut into first Joffrey's and then Tyrion's chests.

By the time he was armored up, he was not alone. Addam had joined him as too had more the fifty men, the Mountain among them. While his father shouted at them to dismount, Jaime, Addam, and those with him were beyond listening. The gates had opened and they'd ridden out, not even thinking about what dragon or even some archers could do to them. Down the hill as fast as they could, lances were drawn, swords at the ready, only to run straight into four dragons who roared loudly and forced more than one of them off their horses.

"Face me you coward!" Jaime shouted as he looked down the hill to where the Dragonknight stood between the two stakes, the thin blade of Dark Sister bloodied and yet Jaime had little idea of just how much it would take to quench her thirst.

"FACE ME!"

Along the ridges, men seemed to just appear. More than enough of them to tell Jaime and those with him that with a single order from the Dragonknight, they would all die here today. The Mountain seemed to shake a little atop his horse and then turned craven, trying to ride away, only for the red dragon to block his path.

"Let them through. All of them, but especially the Prince and the Mountain." Aemon Targaryen called out.

Then as if the dragons heard him or answered his commands, they were in the sky above them and their path to the Dragonknight was clear.

"Two fights for two lives." the Dragonknight said. "You and you." he pointed at Jaime and then at the Mountain.

"When I win?" Jaime asked confidently.

"Then the sun will have risen in the west and set in the east. The seas will have gone dry and the mountains will have blown in the wind like leaves, A Lannister's womb will have quickened again, and a Lion will have borne a living child." Aemon said to laughter from his men. "There is no winning for you Lannister, there is only death and your death and that death comes today."

"And will you fight your own battles, Dragon?" Jaime mocked.

"Against you, yes. Against him." Aemon pointed to the Mountain before calling out. "Ser Arthur."

Jaime looked on as Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning and a man whose legend even he was awed by, now strode forward. He'd hoped to face him on the field near Highgarden only to find that it had been the Gallant and then the Unsullied that he tested his sword against. Smiling now, he looked to the Dragonknight and laughed.

"What was his name? Your sworn sword? Tago Nolo?" he japed.

Aemon didn't turn to face him, instead, he walked to where Joffrey was, unsheathed Dark Sister, and with two movements of the sword and loud screams from Joffrey, he killed Jaime's son. Before Jaime could react, Aemon had moved to Tyrion and again with the same two movements, his brother too died before his eyes. Then and only then did Aemon Targaryen turn to look at him.

For a moment, Jaime couldn't see what it was that Aemon held in his hands. Then he felt them as they struck his face and his breastplate before falling to the ground at his feet. Aemon had cut out Joffrey and Tyrion's hearts and Jaime found himself torn between rage and despair.

"The Heart of Lions." Aemon spat.

"YOU!" Addam shouted. "YOU PROMISED! TWO LIVES FOR TWO FIGHTS!"

"The lives were not those, but those of the fools who'll fight against Ser Arthur and me. Those lives as well as the lives of every Lion are owed to House Targaryen and House Stark. Before this day has ended, justice and vengeance will be served and then the true reckoning will begin."

Foolishly, Addam unsheathed his sword and ran at Aemon, not making it even halfway before he was cut down by arrows and then lost his head to a swipe of a sword wielded by Sandor Clegane, who'd turned his cloak and joined with the dragons. Despite his words, his men took this as a sign that the only thing they'd find here today was death and so they attacked as well. Each of them suffered the same or worse fates as the dragons, and what seemed to be three giant wolves, made quick work of them all.

It left Jaime and the Mountain standing unhurt and with a look at the dead around him and especially at the two bodies tied to the stakes, Jaime readied himself to kill Aemon Targaryen. To his delight, he didn't have to wait long for the chance to do so as the fights were not to take place one after the other, but both at the same time.

Behind him, the Mountain took out his Greatsword, while Jaime unsheathed Brightroar. In front of him, Dawn and Dark Sister both were brought to bear. One sword was an unblemished pure milky white while the other was covered in his brother's and his son's blood.

"For House Lannister!" he shouted as he charged at Aemon Targaryen who simply stood there and smiled.

"House Lannister no longer exists," Aemon said as he laughed.

Casterly Rock 301 AC.

Aemon Targaryen.

On the march, Aemon had been lost in his head. Almost chasing after shadows as each time he turned around it was to find that Torgho Nudho was truly no longer there. He retreated into himself and welcomed the part of him that at times he was forced to show to others. For Aemon knew better than most that it was that part of him that was needed to do what must be done.

The Lions had to fall. They had to be removed root and stem and though there would be those that named Aemon a monster or said he was too ruthless, it mattered not. To allow one of them to live after what they'd done wouldn't be just a stain on his granduncle's and sworn shield's memories, but it would be to court disaster too. Given what Aegon had told him about the rise of the Khal in Essos and who Khal Drogo was mayhap working with, Aemon had a living breathing example of what happened when you allowed the sons of those you killed, to live.

So he'd resolved himself to what he must do and had become the man he needed to be. Those who knew the Lions best of all were sent out along with Thoros to find out had any of them perished during the battles in the Reach and if so, were their bodies recognisable still. In this, Aemon had been fortunate as the bodies of Kevan and Lancel Lannister were found and while they'd both suffered burns, their heads remained undamaged. So those heads had been taken and preserved. As too had the heads of those he'd personally removed in Lannisport.

Aemon, even as he provoked the Lions into doing exactly what he wished to do, still remembered the looks of terror on the women's and children's faces as he showed them no mercy. As he too remembered the words he spoke to Joffrey and Tyrion Lannister before he then took their lives from them and removed their hearts from their chests.

"You raped a girl. Forced yourself onto her. This is her justice and mine own sentence for the blood that runs through your veins, Joffrey Lannister." Aemon said, as he stabbed the Prince of the Rock in the chest, and with two twists of Dark Sister's thin blade, he then cut out his heart.

He moved to Tyrion who looked pleadingly to his brother some distance away. On the dwarf's chest, Aemon had already carved a crude but recognizable version of the Three-Headed Dragon. Whereas on Joffrey's, he'd simply carved that chest up and wrought the screams he needed from the boy to bring his uncle out from behind the keep's walls.

"You set these events in motion, Lannister." Aemon spat as he looked at Tyrion, Dark Sister in one hand and Joffrey's heart in the other. "Your actions cost my granduncle whatever time he had left in this world. You cost me the chance to see his smile once more and had you been successful, they'd have cost me, my brother. Did you really think I'd let any of you get away with such?" Aemon said as he cut into Tyrion Lannister's chest and as he had with his nephew, he removed the uncle's heart just as efficiently.

It had the desired effect. Not only were there now two fewer Lions in the world, but those with Prince Jaime and the Mountain, including Joffrey's father, had then launched a failed attack. Aemon's archers, the four dragons, and three Direwolves, all made quick work of those men and left only two standing. Then with a simple nod of his head and still with the blood of Tyrion and Joffrey running through his fingers, Aemon and Arthur faced off against the Mountain that Rides and Jaime Lannister.

It had been these two that had taken his uncle and grandfather from the world. These two now owed a blood debt to both Aemon and his mother's House. Aemon had shared that news with his uncles and his cousins and had told them what it was he planned to do to them both. That he intended to provoke an attack, a rescue attempt, or simply play into the Old Lion's pride and offer up a challenge of two on two combat. No matter what it took, Aemon had told them that both of the men responsible would be seen to face justice.

His two uncles, both his cousins, and even later on some of the most vociferous of Northmen had all offered to act as one of the two champions in this. Aemon had refused them all. Daario had spoken about the Mountain's great size and more than that, the sheer thickness of the plate armor he wore. So Aemon had known there was only one man who could beat him.

'Two actually' the voice in his head said as Dark Sister crashed against Brightroar and the song of Valyrian Steel began to ring out loudly.

It could only be Arthur though. While he may personally wish to take down both men, Aemon had known that he'd be facing off against Jaime Lannister. He'd known too that he'd not have been able to beat first the one and then the other, as in a true fight he'd have shown too much. It would either give the second man an advantage when facing him or be enough to see that man turn craven. Either way, it was not something that Aemon would countenance and so he decided it was to be two on two, both at the same time.

"Trust me, it must be this way. For as much as your blood calls out and demands you to swing the sword here, you simply aren't skilled enough to do so."

Harsh words but true ones and as to his left, a giant of a man faced off against the man that even Aemon believed was the greatest living swordsman, Aemon fought against one who would name himself that way. The Golden Prince of the Rock, Jaime Lannister, the man who'd killed his grandfather, and Tywin Lannister's pride and joy.

Cocky, arrogant, and with the skills to back most of that up. Aemon had rarely fought against a man whose fundamentals were as sound as Jaime's were. Yet, he'd provoked him for a reason. Had done what he'd done to his nephew and brother not simply for the debts both owed, but to anger the man he was about to face. Anger was not your friend when it came to swinging a sword. Arthur had taught him that when he was just a boy and the Lion in front of him swung his Valyrian Steel sword as angrily as any man that Aemon had ever faced.

"He begged for his life." Aemon smiled. "Each night on the march to this godforsaken place, he begged for his life."

"Lies."

"When he was not busy wetting himself that was." Aemon laughed as he dodged a vicious blow aimed at his head. "Some nights he soiled himself even worse than that."

He ducked under a blow and moved to the side so that he could see what was happening with Arthur and the Mountain. The giant was faster than he should be and the Greatsword he wielded was monstrous. On the ground were the remnants of a large shield and Aemon could see small gaps in the plate armor where there had been none before. Arthur was as elusive as he'd ever seen him. The Sword of the Morning danced while the Mountain charged. A slice of Dawn here, a cut there, Arthur was busy creating the gaps that he would soon use to bring the Mountain down, Aemon felt the fight was almost over, or would be as soon as Arthur willed it so.

"Your wife, your children. The daughter you've left behind in Dorne. I wonder will they too wet themselves when their time comes." Aemon said, and as angered as Jaime Lannister was before, he raged now.

Aemon blocked the blows and sidestepped away from those that he needed to. To those watching and who knew him not, it would look as if Jaime's attacks were too much for him to handle. That the power of the older man was more than Aemon had prepared for. As for those who knew him well or were better judges of the ebbs and flows of a true fight, they'd see the truth of things.

Jaime's swings were taking much more out of Jaime than they were out of Aemon. Each of them had so much power behind them that they would, in time, tire Jaime out. Even now, Jaime had begun to breathe heavily while Aemon had very much not. A crash, a pained cry, followed by silence, was enough to tell Aemon that the Mountain had fallen. Whether or not that was for true or simply for now, was a different matter. As while Aemon had asked Arthur to simply incapacitate the giant, he'd told him not to do so at any risk to himself.

"One down, one to go," Aemon said as Jaime roared like the Lion he named himself.

Steadying himself, breathing evenly, Aemon now began to truly fight back. Up to now, he'd been simply absorbing the blows from Jaime and his sword. Allowing them to force him back, while all the time, simply deflecting them away from him or making them miss. His own attacks had been weaker than they needed to be, purposefully. Now they were anything but and though Jaime's had not hit home even once, Aemon's did so now regularly.

A thrust that scraped along the breastplate and cut deep into the gilded golden lion that was embossed there. A crashing against the helm forced Jaime to take a step backward so as to shake the effects away. A cut to the joint at the elbow was one that added Jaime Lannister's blood to the blood of his kin that Dark Sister had drunk up greedily. Followed by two strikes to the leg in quick succession that first pierced the armor and then the flesh beneath it.

What it looked like to those behind him, Aemon knew not. Arthur stood watching and held his sword just in case. Dawn's formerly pristine milky white color was now tinged with the red blood that the Mountain had spilled on its legendary blade. Atop the Rock, Aemon had no doubt that Jaime's father, wife, children, and those that loved him the most all looked on. Yet, for him, all Aemon saw was the face of the man who'd guarded his back for most of his life.

Memories that threatened to overwhelm him were forced back down and again Aemon concentrated on the swings of his sword. A feint followed by a thrust that brought a pained cry, a slice that cut the mane from the back of Jaime's helm. Grey eyes met green ones and finally, Aemon saw what he had longed to see. Fear. Jaime Lannister was afraid and it almost made Aemon's heart sing to see it. A cut, a slice, thrust followed by thrust, and then he began in earnest. Dark Sister had a thirst for blood and over the years he'd fed that thirst, yet Aemon and she had never wanted to drink it down more than they did right now.

Two strikes where the gauntlet met the vambrace allowed Dark Sister to create the opening and Aemon took it gladly. The scream reverberated loudly and behind him, Aemon heard cheers, as with a downward swing of his sword, he removed Jaime Lannister's offhand from his body. Blood spurted from the wound, so far that even Aemon's armor was splashed by it. It was to be the first of many. As now that Jaime tried to ignore the pain the loss of his hand had caused him, Aemon moved in for the kill.

A thrust opened up a gap in the armor and allowed Dark Sister to be stuck into Jaime's left hip, almost crippling him in the process. Another opened up the gap between shoulder and chest and again was followed by a loud grunt as Dark Sister hit home once more. Weakened by the loss of blood, exhausted by all the efforts that he'd put into the fight, Jaime Lannister was done for.

Aemon almost considered disarming the man. Then came damnably close to making a speech about how unworthy Jaime had been to take the life of Torgho Nudho. Instead, he simply ended it and after moving into Jaime's guard, Dark Sister found purchase and was driven deep into the gap that Aemon had created near his arm and shoulder. Brightroar and Jaime Lannister both fell to the ground at the same time. The sound of the sword somehow being louder than the noise that the man made when he fell.

"For Torgho Nudho," Aemon said as he moved forward, removed Jaime's Lion's Helm, and with Dark Sister in hand and Jaime facing those who marched with Aemon, and not the Rock, he cut the man's throat with a single slice of the blade.

It took no more than a moment for Jaime to gurgle his last breath. Aemon then bent down to pick up Brightroar and to turn and face the Rock. Holding the sword up high in his hand so that Tywin Lannister could see it, Aemon smiled before turning and walking to Arthur and then down to where Rhaenys, Dany, Aurane, Thoros, and Daario awaited. With a nod to his uncles, cousins, and the Northmen, Aemon handed Brightroar to Aurane as he'd already told him he would, and then he took the rope from Thoros's hands.

A nod to Rhaenys to show her that he was unhurt, followed by a call to the Blood Wyrm, and while Arthur and some Northmen chained the Mountain, who yet breathed still, Aemon walked and tied the rope to Jaime Lannister's body before then tying it to the Blood Wyrm's saddle when his dragon landed close to him. Within the blink of an eye, he was sitting atop the Blood Wyrm's back and then flying high above the ground. Beneath them, dangling from a rope, blood still dripping from his dead body, Jaime Lannister looked down on the Rock through still open but long dead eyes.

How long he flew over the Rock before he cut the rope and let the body crash down into the keep, Aemon knew not. When he landed, however, he promised that before the night was done, the Rock itself would fall too.

The Conquest of Westeros LX.

Valyrian Steel.

No one knew how it was made, the secret lost to the Doom. Something which made any item that was made from it more precious than gold. Be that a simple thing such as a mug or plate, knife or fork. Though as with most things, it was weapons that were truly prized. For no weapon kept its edge as well as Valyrian Steel.

How much of it was in existence at any one time, again no one knew. Though when it came to weapons they were few and far between, swords, even fewer. In the Empire, there were Blackfyre and Dark Sister, the ancestral swords of House Targaryen, in Westeros it was said that most of the Great Houses had owned at least one at a time, yet over the years, and certainly by the time the Dragonknight's Conquest began, they had become rarer still.

House Stark in the North, held Ice which had been added to by Wolfsblood. A sword that had been won by Prince Benjen Stark from the Iron Born and which had then become the ancestral sword of House Stark of Sea Dragon Point. While on Bear Island, House Mormont held Longclaw, wielded by the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, the Old Bear Jeor Mormont. In the Vale, there was House Royce's Lamentation, along with House Corbray's Lady Forlorn. On the Iron Islands, House Harlaw had its Nightfall and in the Reach, House Hightower's Vigilance and House Roxton's Orphan Maker almost rounded out the list.

Two swords, however, had been wielded by Houses for generations, and yet before the Dragonknight was done, those Houses stood no more and their ancestral swords were wielded by far better men. Hearstbane found no truer servant to its history than Thoros of Myr, while Brigtroar found a new home in Dragon's Landing and in the hands of Aurane Velaryon. Both blades proved their worth and saved the lives of the men who wielded them in the Great War. Where Valyrian Steel along with Dragons and Dragonglass was oft the difference between life and a fate worse even than death.

A history of the conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next. We take a look at events in the Iron Islands. Ned, Benjen Robb, and Torrhen dole out the justice they long for as the Mountain falls for true. While Tywin finds he's not time to mourn his losses as the noose tightens when Aemon launches a full-scale attack on Casterly Rock and uses dragons to their most devastating effect. Oberyn meets with Arianne and a plan is put into place to save Dorne and House Martell even at the cost of fatherly love.

For those following my other fics, Dragonverse is up next, later this week while Revenge is a Dish and Dark Prince are up the week after.

Missed Reviews.

Qyartermass: Chapter 13: I can so picture that happening LOL.

Chapter 20: Yes, Torgho Nudho is Grey Worm in Valyrian.

Matt Black: Chapter 27: Religions and more specifically those in charge of them are responsible for so many of the worst aspects of society that it's hard to figure out which side the scales are tilted on in terms of the good and bad it's done to the world. From the conflicts, it's caused that lead to wars to simply those caused by intolerance. I do think the Faith of the Seven is as close to a proper religious organization as we would be used to, where even R'hllor is sort of more an amped-up fanatical thing. But, the one thing with the Old Gods or even the Drowned one is that they don't try to make you believe in them and force you to abandon all belief in anything else. Then again, when you go back into the history of the North, the things they did base on their belief in the Old Gods were pretty extreme, so it's more that they've abandoned some of those beliefs than the Gods being better or worst.

I do like the Stark's way with the Old Gods, which is why I had Aemon sort of at least not be as dismissive about it as he is in other religions, but he's really a non-believer here, which suit's the narrative.

Naijya: chapter 3: Then feel free to read no further, I care not.

Austinhill: Chapter 5: No, it's one with the same name but not the same dragon. None from the Conquest are still around.

Chapter 28 Reviews.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Alberto: Hope you liked Jaime's end, Tywin is next.

Quartermass: I'm glad you like some and that you're enjoying this one.

Dunk: Yes one of the grandchildren will be the future Dragonknight. We're almost at the no battle point, one more after the Rock and then it'll be some chapters of world-building, events in Essos, and time passing before the NK and the final battle and yes, it will be some years in the future. With the West, Aemon's plans were very simple, he held some hostages and simply had messages sent to all keeps to stand down or lose them, and the only ones he actually wished to see dead were Lannisters. In the end, self-preservation wins out. So he didn't have to fight along his march.

Rhatch: So glad you enjoyed it.

Jack: He will be missed and mourned, Aemon hasn't done the second yet.

Celexys: Really glad you liked it, my friend.

King Loren: I can understand that, as I said I've got a Jon raised as a Lannister fic upcoming that would be more to your tastes.

Xan-Merrick: Lol, she is, and so very glad she's got him on her side.

Smoke: Almost every fic that's Targ-centric is going to have at least one pairing that's related to each other, be it Brother/Sister or Brother/Half Sister or Aunt/Nephew. Out of all the possible incestuous marriages, a brother and his half-sister may be one of the most palatable ones I'd imagine, but well if you find it disgusting then so be it. Glad you liked the battles, there are a couple of big ones to come.

Orthangkg: So very glad you enjoyed it.