Updated 4/13/2019: Edited for a smoother read.
Chapter 24
Aemon V
Aemon clopped his horse up the path and halted at the sight of the Twins. His stomach felt like he'd eaten stones for breakfast rather than a gritty stew and bile rose in his throat. A rider had been sent to treat with Walder Frey about allowing their army to pass and the rider had returned with an invitation to negotiations and dinner.
Dinner at a butcher's table.
He kept having to remind himself that Walder Frey had not broken guestright nor murdered anyone, but if the old man so much as felt snubbed, he wouldn't put it past him. Granted, he had only been brave enough to commit such an atrocity at Tywin Lannister's backing. He would not have that luxury in this world.
Beside him, Ghost and Greywind gave low growls.
Aemon frowned at them and said, "Easy, boys. It will be alright."
Robb nudged his horse closer to Aemon and leaned in, "You feeling okay? You're looking grimmer than normal."
Aemon chuckled. "Just nerves, I guess. This will be my first negotiation. Don't want a man like Walder Frey to walk all over me."
"I have confidence in you, cousin," Robb replied, giving him a proud smile.
Although Robb was still unaware of the other life he lived, he had been a pacifying force of late and Aemon took heart in his optimism and found himself confiding in him more often. They were of an age, after all, and Robb helped him relax, even if his advice was suspect at best.
He did his best to stay out of his Uncle Ned's way. Both of them continually butt heads over Jaime Lannister. He didn't think his uncle was so sinister as to undermine their relationship, but that seemed to be his goal. It caused Aemon to set his teeth on edge whenever he was in his uncle's presence. Ned was currently his most trustworthy and powerful ally and that could be undone if Aemon ever decided to be sharper with him, especially in a public setting. But he would not remove Jaime from his position and he put his absolute trust in him.
Now though, he and his uncle were on the same footing. He glanced over at him and found his uncle tight-lipped and pale. He offered a shaky smile and nodded at him.
Aemon dismounted and turned to SmallJon Umber, Dacey Mormont, Domeric Bolton, and Harrion Karstark. "Break camp. Keep the army in line. I suspect we'll be able to cross in the morning," Aemon said.
"Yes, Your Grace," they intoned and bowed. He had split the army into quadrants and placed each of them at the head of one. There had been some unhappy muttering regarding Dacey's placement; she had been forced to prove herself in a duel. She took no prisoners and soundly defeated her opponent in a sword battle. It snapped the soldiers in line.
More importantly, at least to Aemon, it had spurred Arya from her own mutinous silence. She'd watched the battle in awe and when it had drawn to a close had run after the lady warrior and babbled questions at her, which Dacey fielded with endless patience. She was still not quite on speaking terms with him again, but it was heartwarming just to see some of her old vinegar back. He would have to see if he could arrange lessons between her and Dacey.
He turned to the northern lords, his family, and Theon Greyjoy, who were going to attend the feast. "I will do the talking. Rumors have it that Lord Walder Frey is a prickly sort who takes offense easily and right now he controls the quickest way to cross the Green Fork." He stared rather pointedly at Theon, who shifted on top of his horse. He would give credit that Theon had been well-behaved since the coup in Winterfell and no longer gave him grief, but he was still quick to anger.
Aemon would have felt better if he'd actually spoken to Walder Frey in his previous life, but whether lucky or unlucky, Arya had seen to it that he'd never gotten the opportunity. He was pleased that there were virtually no other Starks that he could offer to old Walder Frey since the most notable Stark children were already betrothed. He'd do his level best to keep Bran from being betrothed, since he would have other duties, but he counted on old Walder Frey not being particularly interested in the secondborn son with nothing to inherit. He did have Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey's betrothal in his back pocket if push came to shove, but he'd rather not have to greet Edmure Tully with the news that he was betrothed to his least favorite vassal.
You are the king, he told himself. Do not let the old man play you like a fiddle. He is a coward who doesn't have the appropriate backing to be a threat even if embarrassed, but the last thing I need is a lifelong enemy in any critical lord. He remembered Jaime's suggestion long ago of knocking off Lord Frey and installing his son. It was by far the easiest of the ideas they'd had, but hardly preferable.
He took two hundred men, the entire Kingsguard, and the northern lords to see Walder Frey. It was his own way of flexing his muscles, by showing the force he had already garnered at his back. He left Ghost and Greywind behind with Lady and Nymeria. As a pack they rushed off into the forest to run free and hunt.
The bridge was already lowered when they reached the bottom and two men on horses and a dozen soldiers were standing just off the bridge to greet them. The two men were squat and heavy in their finery. They wore beards that weren't quite thick enough to hide the suspicion in their faces.
The older of the two spoke up, "King Aemon Targaryen?"
"Yes," Aemon replied.
"My father awaits you in the great hall. If you'll follow me."
Aemon raised an eyebrow at him. "Who might you be?"
"Forgive me, I am Ser Stevron Frey, firstborn to Lord Walder."
"And I am Lothar Frey. Forgive my brother's rudeness," the man said, shooting his brother a dirty look. They turned their horses and started across the bridge. The grounds were filled with children and women going about their chores. He couldn't help but noticed that they all looked alike. They immediately stopped what they were doing to stare as their party approached.
"What do you all think you're doin'? Quit gawkin' and keep workin'," Lothar bellowed. The effect was instantaneous. Everyone's heads immediately went down to work on their tasks. They almost seemed afraid to look at him again.
What a horrid house to be born in, Aemon thought as he continued to surreptitiously glance around. Everywhere he looked, children were bickering and fighting. It was not dissimilar from Arya and Sansa's fighting, but they had at least never raised a hand at one another. Many of the children also had threadbare clothes as if Walder couldn't afford to clothe them all.
He and the lords of the North dismounted and were led into the great hall. It was twice the size of Winterfell's great hall, but it had to be to fit all of the Frey brood. An ancient man with a sneering smile sat at the far back, hunched over in his chair. He wondered if Lord Frey knew how rude his smile was or if that was the only smile he could manage.
"King Aemon Targaryen, I wish to welcome you to these halls. I would get up to greet you more formally, but as you can see, I am but an old man. No longer as spry as I used to be."
Spry enough to father more children, Aemon thought as he espied a young woman nearby, swollen with child. But he merely smiled and nodded his head. "That is understandable, Lord Frey."
The old man snorted then turned to his uncle. "Ned Stark, it's been a long time. I think the last time I saw you, it was at yours and Catelyn Tully's wedding. A grim affair that one."
"Indeed, Lord Frey," Ned replied in a hollow voice, looking more grim than ever. "As much as I love my lady wife, there was little cause for celebration."
His uncle was having the hardest time being here, knowing that Walder Frey, in another lifetime, butchered his son, his son's lady, his wife, and the rest of the northern lords. He had been looking ill as they crossed over to the Twins and Aemon had shot him a concerned look. His uncle was at least smart enough to not speak of such a thing, but no matter how ill at ease they were, they couldn't show it.
"Aye. Married your lady wife then got a bastard on another woman, only he's not a bastard at all, are ya?"
"No," Aemon replied. Inside he was simmering and he was doing his best to reel his anger in. He could not let the old weasel get the better of him, so he challenged himself to not look back at his lords. It was a sign of weakness. "I am Aemon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. My father annulled his marriage with Elia Martell and married my mother under the sight of the Seven. I am the true king of the Seven Kingdoms. I have neutralized Robert Baratheon, the usurper, as a threat, and now I must claim my throne. I beseech you allow me to pass through to the rest of the Riverlands."
"You get to the heart of the matter, I can appreciate that. None of this bandying of words. As lord of the crossing, I do require a toll."
"What's your price?"
Old Frey hesitated a moment, peering at him scrutinously and then nodding to himself. "I have it on good authority that you're unmarried. Perhaps one of my lovely daughters would be suitable for you."
"As lovely as I'm sure your daughters are, I have a pending betrothal," Aemon replied.
"Well, then, perhaps your cousin, the Stark heir then - "
"He also has a pending betrothal. As also does Sansa and Arya Stark."
Lord Walder Frey's face grew thunderous. "That was quick."
"I am in need of allies with the other Lord Paramounts of the Seven Kingdoms. The betrothals are with their heirs."
Aemon heard Robb breathe a sigh of relief and it took every ounce of strength he had not to glance back and glare at his cousin. It would be construed as an insult and he needed all the goodwill he could muster from the old weasel.
Lord Walder continued to scowl. "Well, what can you offer?"
"I am willing to offer five hundred Gold Dragons, one of your sons a place on my council, and another young son a place at my side as squire, to be raised to knighthood with a hold of his own."
Old Walder leered at him. "A marriage would be preferred to seal this deal." He scanned the northern lords behind him. Aemon didn't need to turn to hear some of them shift uncomfortably. None of them wanted to marry their heirs to a Frey if they could help it. It was one thing to arrange betrothals for his cousins at his uncle's behest, it was quite another to arrange a betrothal for a northern lord who was only following him out of fear of the Gods. He had to prove himself first and it started here. "As much as it pains me, King Aemon" - and the old man seemed to sneer the word 'king,'- "I'm afraid I must look after my own. Too many mouths to feed for such a small price - "
"No," Aemon interjected quietly, but firmly. The silence in the hall was absolute. All the northern lords watched him intently.
"What did you say?"
"No, Lord Frey. I have offered you a more than fair price for passage into the Riverlands, where I will head to Riverrun to accept the fealty of your Lord Paramount. Now, I will find a way across the Green Fork, with or without your aid, but when I take my throne, I will be sure to remember those allies who aided me. And I will remember those who failed to aid me. Which will you be remembered as?"
Old Walder was looking at him with barely disguised fury, but then he glanced away to look at all the lords arrayed behind him. Swallowing like he was forced to down a bitter pill he said, "Very well, for five hundred Gold Dragons, Sir Stevron Frey will take the council seat, and my young son Olyvar Frey will be your squire to be trained to knighthood and granted a hold of his own."
"Thank you, Lord Frey," Aemon replied with a firm nod.
"Now, if you'll allow young Roslin, she will show you to your room."
A pretty, meek girl seemed to materialize from a side door. She curtsied upon seeing him and began leading him to his room. She was quite pretty, but Old Walder's ploy to get him to marry her would not work. He sent her away the moment he set foot into the room.
The offered feast was of higher quality than what they'd been eating on the road lately, so it was a welcome respite, but Ser Barristan insisted on sampling everything first before he did. If Old Walder noticed his Lord Commander sample everything first, he made no comment. That night, Aemon stayed awake with his hand resting comfortingly on a dagger beneath his pillow in the instance that this Walder was bolder than the last. Ser Arys Oakheart and Preston Greenfield had stood at his door.
However the night passed without incident and early the next morning they'd already prepped for their army to move across the Green Fork. The four thousand men of the Twins joined their army along with Sir Stevron Frey, Black Walder Rivers, and Olyvar Frey. Olyvar was a boy of no more than ten years. Quite young to be a squire, but he was courteous and inquisitive. Aemon liked him immediately.
Sir Stevron Frey rode like he had the king's personal confidence, his nose held high in the air, and spoke in condescending tones to anyone who engaged him in conversation. Theon finally had enough and called him a 'nobody' straight to his face. Aemon had been forced to chastise Theon, though he privately agreed the man needed to be put in his place. It appeared to have at least done the trick of humbling him because he fell quiet in the days after.
They reached Riverrun in two weeks. In that time, they were almost completely cut off from the world. Though he didn't anticipate an attack force in the Riverlands, he still sent scouts and every one of them reported that all was quiet. It felt like the calm before the storm. It left him restless, but he couldn't be seen ceaselessly pacing in his tent. He had to appear collected and decisive. Once more, he wished Jaime were available to vent. He would know better than anyone the frustrations they were both facing.
He tried to distract himself by casting his mind to Dany, but he only ever seemed to trip over the questions regarding her. Should he call her back right away? She should still be married to the Khal. What if Viserys is still alive? It had taken an overt amount of willpower to simply think of the few good memories he had of her. Despite the hopeless situation they had found themselves in, she'd always been quick to smile. It always eased his soul to see her brightness light the room. In a time when the sun was rarely seen, she seemed to embody it and took time out of her day to speak to the folk who kept the castle running.
She had a temper, but her heart was as big as the world. She made an excellent queen. He longed for her, especially now that he could no longer stand the whisperings of marriage. His uncle still occasionally brought up marriageable prospects and every single time he had said to his uncle, "You know why."
They needed her dragons. The dragons were of the utmost importance. He would not even be bothering to claim the throne, if he thought Westeros could be united, but Robert Baratheon had made it obvious in his blind rage to murder Jaime that the Seven Kingdoms were damned near determined to fall apart.
It will be a bloody miracle if we manage to bring everyone into the fold, he thought. There would be problems. He and Jaime had to get ahead of any plots to murder him and with a man like Baelish in the picture, it was going to be a challenge.
Every night before he headed to bed, he prayed to the gods for guidance and wisdom.
They finally arrived at Riverrun in the morning. He had to put up with Edmure Tully making a greater occasion out of it than was necessary. It made him wonder if Catelyn had written to her brother asking him to be extra gracious to make up for her horrid behavior to him for all of his life. Catelyn was another person he had dearly wished to punish more than he had been allowed to, but there were no circumstances in which he could punish a woman that wouldn't make him look cruel by comparison. Not even Cersei, much to his dismay.
When they reached Riverrun, Lord Edmure Tully, on behalf of his father Hoster, knelt and pledged the Riverlands at his disposal. Then he was free to collect his messages. He was shocked to discover there were only three.
That's odd. One of them had the seal of High Garden, the other the bear of House Mormont, and the last one the seal of the Night's Watch. Jaime would use the Lannister seal if he ever sent a message, but there was nothing here. He opened the High Garden message first.
To King Aemon Targaryen,
We received word that Lord Jaime Lannister had left Lannisport for High Garden three weeks ago, but he has yet to arrive. I do hope that you have every intention of honoring this betrothal.
Willas Tyrell
Aemon felt his heart sink in his stomach. Where is Jaime? He knew his friend would never settle for anything less than a direct ship to the Reach. Was the ship lost at sea? He shivered at the thought. Jaime would be dead and he'd be all alone. Again. It's like he's a plaything of the gods. He took a moment to pray silently once more to keep Jaime safe.
He would have to think a moment on his reply to the Tyrells, so he broke the seal on the letter from the Night's Watch:
To King Aemon Targaryen, First of his Name….and the First Men
All is quiet at Castle Black. I am keeping busy helping Maester Aemon in his studies and occasionally lend my expertise to train the new recruits. Another new recruit showed up barely a moon after you left by the name of Samwell Tarly. I've been working with him to give him a bit of muscle and a fighting chance, but Maester Aemon has taken notice of him and intends to train him as his replacement. I imagine he will be most valuable.
The former Kingsguard Ser Boros Blount and Ser Mandon Moore have already taken their vows and became Rangers. The Lord Commander is keeping a close eye on them, but there is nothing to suggest trouble from them.
Your Uncle Benjen and his crew have yet to return from his outing north of the Wall. I will send word as soon as he returns, hopefully with the captured wight as you requested.
Ser Rodrick Cassel
Aemon closed his eyes and tried to remain calm. Yet more bad news. He sent a silent prayer once more to the gods that they keep Benjen safe and allow him to return with the wight they so desperately needed. We can't afford for you to become undead again, uncle. Come back to us! Just as in the time before, they would not be taken seriously by anyone unless they could show the world an undead.
He finally turned to the last letter and broke the Mormont's bear seal.
To King Aemon Targaryen, First of his Name….and the First Men
As Maester of Bear Island, I have conducted a physical on Cersei Lannister. She is in good health but, most notably, she is with child. I offered her moon tea, but it was declined. I understand that Cersei is to be a prisoner for the rest of her days, however her future child is not. Lady Lyanna Mormont and I await your reply in regards to the child's fate.
Maester Krennik of Bear Island
Aemon released a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding and slowly sank down into a chair at the desk. The Gods are truly cruel to you, Jaime. You worked so hard to keep from fathering a bastard and Cersei steals that from you. He couldn't very well write back and tell the Maester to force moon tea down her throat. This letter had been sitting here a few weeks at least and it had been almost four months since that night. He knew very little about the ways of pregnancy, but he knew enough from being around Lady Catelyn that Cersei was quite far along. The child was to be born.
Knowing Jaime, he will claim it, or at least wait to claim it until Lord Tywin is out of the picture. He had heard from Tyrion that Tywin very nearly threw him out to sea when he was born and he was legitimate. There was no telling what he'd do to a bastard of Jaime's that might compete with a trueborn son. Whatever was to happen, the child would not be raised by Cersei. He'd see to that.
He wished more than ever that he had Jaime's counsel. He would want to determine his child's fate, but they might not even see each other before it was born. And Jaime was missing! He had to determine a course now.
He went to the door and said, "Ser Barristan, will you send for my uncle? I require his advice."
While he waited, he addressed High Garden in a letter.
Lord Willas Tyrell
Forgive Lord Jaime Lannister his tardiness. I assure you, he is as devoted to my cause as I am. It could be that he met with unfavorable weather. If you would be so kind, give him more time.
In the event that my Hand Lord Jaime Lannister does not appear, I will send another negotiator in his stead.
I suggest further patience in this regard.
King Aemon Targaryen
By the time he was done with the letter, his uncle had arrived. He folded it and set it aside. He'd look at it again before sealing it.
"You asked for me, Your Grace?"
"Uncle, how many times do I have to tell you, you can refer to me by my given name."
"Even so, Your Grace. What is it that you needed?"
Aemon hesitated for a moment. He imagined Jaime would not be particularly keen to turn to Lord Stark for help regarding his bastard child, but he had few options. He handed the letter over to Ned.
Ned read it, looked at him in surprise, and then read it again. Finally, he said, "The child could be Robert's."
Aemon sighed. "Don't be naive, Uncle. It's not. It's Jaime's. She wouldn't carry it to birth otherwise."
Ned sighed in exasperation himself. "Jaime doesn't know."
"No, he doesn't. And there's no telling when he'll get back to me or where I'll be," Aemon said, pacing the room and running a hand through his curly hair. "I have to make the decision regarding Jaime's child."
"Do you think he'll claim it?"
"He will. It's just a matter of time. His father will not approve."
"It's...it's a Lannister by blood."
"Uncle, please. I told you what Lord Tywin was like in my previous life. Do you think he'll show his golden heir's bastard any mercy? It's one thing to be a bastard, it's another to be born of incest to a brother and sister. Most lords wouldn't stand for it."
"And you can't leave it with its mother," Ned said with a terse frown.
"There is only one option available and I'm not sure I can even depend on it," Aemon replied, resting a stern gaze on his uncle. "Will Lady Catelyn be amenable to housing this bastard?"
"She's housing Cersei's other bastards."
"As much as I don't wish the sins of the mother onto the children, I care very little about what happens to them. They're safe. This will be Jaime Lannister's current and only heir, should anything happen to him. Will Lady Catelyn do as I command and take care of the child?"
"You know very well she only behaved as she did with you because she thought you were a threat to Robb."
Aemon remained silent. Catelyn's horrendous behavior to him would forever be a sore spot, so he continued to glare at his uncle, who shifted uncomfortably.
"I know that Catelyn wishes to make amends with you. Lord Jaime is your friend. She knows you'll want the best for his son or daughter. She will allow him or her to stay at Winterfell."
"Very well. I'll write her myself," Aemon replied. "Thank you, Uncle, for your advice."
