Welcome to another chapter The Dragon's Roar! I hope you continue to enjoy this story as I'm getting closer - *ahem* still a ways to go, but within stone's throwing distance - to the end. Thank you for being such loyal readers! I love reading your thoughts! I try to answer as many of you as I can, but I am only human.
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Chapter 134
Aemon L
He dismounted his horse in the courtyard with some trepidation. After the warning Jaime had given him about the ire of his wife, his thoughts had been turning over in his head. His stomach was so knotted with concern that he could hardly eat during the intervening weeks.
Now that he knew that Jaime had indeed let Brienne in on the secret and she'd expressed her dissatisfaction about being lied to, he wondered if Dany might sic Drogon on him after all. He had left it far, far too long. He had been busy, first with the attack of the Ironborn and then the subsequent planning of the strike against them where he finally enfolded the last holdout back into the Seven Kingdoms.
It was a cause for celebration!
Or it should have been. He'd read the letter his wife had written about all that had transpired since he'd left and was taken aback. A Blackfyre? They should all be dead, he thought with mounting concern. Later, Aemon had asked Ser Barristan about Maelys Blackfyre and the knight told the story with such detail, it sounded as if it had only happened the day prior.
In her letter, Dany had written dispassionately, as if she had only passing concern for the information, but he knew the letter itself belied this or she wouldn't have bothered writing it. They had to contend with yet another usurper when they should be focusing on preparing for the Long Night. What is the greater of the two evils? he'd asked himself.
The Blackfyre was a concern, but the Night King promised them all an icy grave if they dared place their concerns elsewhere. Now he would have to convince the small council. It was his hope that the threat of Drogon, Rhaellon, and Rhaegal would be enough to keep the Blackfyre at bay, but they needed the time and space to grow even bigger before Aemon no longer had to worry about their safety.
As long as they grow like Drogon did last time, we have nothing to fear, Aemon thought, though his confidence wavered now that Drogon remained unruly. He continued winging out of the way to feast on cattle or sheep stolen from unlucky farms. Aemon had continued to encourage Drogon to eat the forest animals, but the dragon had torn into the animal without regard for his words. He hoped that Daenerys would have a solution for reining her dragon in as well.
She was there, waiting in a lavender dress, her swollen stomach unmistakably prominent, when they finally returned to the Red Keep. Aemon did sigh in relief that he had at least not missed the birth of their first child. He recalled that his uncle had missed Robb's birth as Robert's Rebellion had kept him far south of Riverrun for some years. He felt fortunate, at least, that the conflicts he found himself embroiled in were minor and swift. Surely, the Gods favored him.
Or perhaps they had favored him.
Dany was cordial and smiled at his return, though he thought it didn't quite reach her eyes. "My queen," he murmured, drawing her in for an embrace in front of the gathered crowd. She did turn her head away so that his kiss landed on her cheek. He winced.
"Welcome home, Your Grace," she replied warmly enough, but it was with some rising trepidation that he noticed she didn't use his name.
"Dany, my love," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. She at least did not pull away, but she didn't further it. "Jaime delivered the letter you sent to me. We have much to talk about."
"That we do," she replied, her eyes narrowing.
His mouth went dry but he held out his arm so that she would take it. He then led her back into the Red Keep, ignoring all else. "First, how are you and our child?"
"The babe seems displeased to stay inside of me. He grows more rambunctious by the day," Dany replied, glancing at her stomach fondly.
"What has the grand maester had to say about the babe?" he asked.
"It could be any day now," she said.
"Good, good," Aemon said, reaching across himself to squeeze her arm lovingly. "It seems the kingdom is thriving. I knew you would rule with dignity and grace in my absence."
"Naturally," Dany said. She tipped her chin up with pride. "I will say, Lord Willas and Lady Olenna were especially helpful. Lord Tyrion did help as well when I asked for his guidance. David … was as helpful as he could be given the circumstances."
"How is he?" Aemon asked, his voice wavering.
"Recovering. I have not spoken with him since before that night, but I receive daily messages from his protege, Julian Grey. He's able to leave his bed for short periods of time now. I hear that one of their own, Ser Callum, unfortunately succumbed to the poison."
Aemon furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry to hear that. We should send something to honor the knight."
"I have already arranged for them to have a great feast in their knight's honor," Dany replied, her face showing her sorrow.
"You are a rare jewel, my queen. Still, I think I will give them my condolences in person. You're welcome to join me, of course," Aemon said.
She eyed him. "I'll think about it."
They entered their chambers and Daenerys let go of his arm and immediately found a seat that had been made into a nest of cushions which she settled into. She then leveled him with a look that reminded him very much of the Dany of old who greeted him on her chair in Dragonstone. He had not been as frightened then as he was now.
"I think that's enough. When Varys fled, we were left to speculate as to his reasons. David refused to divulge anything—no, not even to me—which means he had his orders from one even higher in authority," Dany explained.
"He did," Aemon replied evenly, growing equally serious.
"Care to explain why Varys might feel the need to poison a member of the small council and then flee?" Dany asked, her voice icy.
"I will reveal everything. Privately," Aemon said, his eyes flitting to the door that separated their quarters from her ladies-in-waiting.
Dany nodded and rang a bell on the table next to her. They filed out, all with increasingly guilty looks on their faces that suggested to Aemon they had been eavesdropping. "Ladies, I believe you have other chores you can be doing. You may return at dinner," Dany ordered.
"Yes, Your Grace," they replied, all curtsying.
Once they had left and the lock clicked into place, Aemon walked over to Daenerys, kneeling at her side and held out a hand. She didn't hesitate to put her hand in his, but her expression remained cool and closed. He placed a loving kiss on it.
"Just know that I did not keep these secrets because I didn't trust you. I didn't mean to hurt you; I was trying to protect you," Aemon said.
"I can protect myself," Dany said sharply.
"I know you're formidable. But I am your husband and it's my duty to keep you safe. I thought this was the way. I admit, I was wrong."
"Go on," she urged.
"A conversation I had with Ser Barristan cast doubts on Varys' loyalty and character. As you know, Ser Barristan, Lord Lannister, and Varys were all in the Red Keep during the time of Robert's Rebellion. What Ser Barristan told me about Varys happened before Jaime had even been inducted into the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan suggested that Varys had something to do with my father's downfall in the eyes of King Aerys. I wished to find out the truth, so I set David on the task because I knew that it would be impossible to know if Varys was telling me the truth or not."
Dany's mouth was agape at the revelation. "What did David find out?"
"That I do not know. Every time I asked for an answer, David insisted he needed more time. Thank the gods Varys' poison didn't actually work or we may never know the truth, assuming that he has it, of course," Aemon said, sitting back and releasing a deep sigh.
"You could have told me," Dany replied.
"Mayhap I should have. I feared Varys would know precisely what I was looking for if I so much as even breathed a word. It was so secret, David and I only exchanged parchment paper about it," Aemon replied. "It seems I was right to be concerned."
"Now what of this Blackfyre?" Aemon asked. "I received your letter. It has me deeply concerned but do you know if—"
"I wrote down everything I know," Dany said. "You know as much as I."
Aemon muttered a curse under his breath. "I leash one dog only for another to begin biting and snapping at our heels."
"Do you really think he means ill?" Dany asked. He could tell she had already formed her opinion judging by the serious look in her eyes.
"I do. But what we can do about it, I'm as yet unsure. We're hardly in a position to invade Essos and meet him head on. I mislike underhanded methods, but if it means yours and our children's safety, I will be open to it," he growled and began pacing.
"Do you really think that he would be so bold as to attack when we have our dragons?"
"It seems suicide to try," Aemon replied. "The dragons are precisely why I'd rather not be hasty. As long as we have time on our side, they will eventually reach a size where they'll be too formidable to challenge."
"Rhaellon isn't bonded to a rider. Do you wonder if this Blackfyre might attempt to bond with her?"
Aemon bristled at the suggestion. "The Old and the New Gods help us should that be the case."
"Perhaps that's part of his strategy," Dany suggested.
He nodded at the thought. "Perhaps it is. It should certainly be taken into consideration when we discuss this with the small council."
"Yes, I suppose. I'm disappointed that you didn't see fit to bring me in on your secret, but it was not nearly as severe as I feared. I best prepare for dinner." She made to stand.
Aemon stiffened at her words and felt himself break out into a sweat. He could let her be, allow her to glide through her day as ignorant of his old life as nearly everyone else. But he remembered the solemn expression on Jaime's face and the irate one on Brienne's. Though they said little, it had clearly caused a rift in their relationship. How vast and wide, Aemon couldn't be sure, but he trembled at the thought that he'd be staring down a chasm when he told Dany the truth of his life.
Tell her. Tell her NOW.
"Wait," Aemon said and she turned, looking pleasantly curious. He walked over to her and took her hand once more, gently leading her back to her chair full of cushions. "It's best you be seated for this," he said.
She furrowed her brow at the intensity of his expression.
"Now, Dany, what I tell you right now must never leave this room. Only a handful of people even know this about me … and Jaime," he said.
"What is it? Who knows?"
"Tyrion, Ser Barristan, and, er, Brienne knows. My … father also used to know, but—" he cut himself off and shook his head.
"Why them?" Dany asked.
"Tyrion was to be my Hand. He also shares a close relationship with Jaime. He suspected we were hiding something from him for some time; it made little sense to keep up the charade," Aemon said.
"But you kept it up from me?" Dany snapped, her eyes flashing.
Aemon sighed. "When you hear what I'm about to say, you'll think I'm madder than even your father. I didn't want to damage this. Us! You mean more to me than you realize."
"If you loved me so much, why would you keep this from me then?" Her face may very well have been carved from stone, but he could see the tears forming in her eyes.
He inhaled deeply and slumped. "Did you know that my … father never did tell me who my true father and mother were? I learned it from another. It stirred a level of fury I have never felt before. How could a man masquerading as my father be so callous as to keep it a secret? However, after … keeping this secret myself, I think I understand. How fearful he must have been. He betrayed King Robert Baratheon, his best friend, to hide me. Because King Robert would've killed me given half the chance."
She eased up her fire and relaxed once more into the cushions. "Don't think I am pleased with you, but go on."
Aemon opened his mouth to say the words, but they wouldn't come out. How did Jaime ever manage to tell Brienne? he mused. Where to start? It had been easy with his uncle. He had simply barged in and revealed his knowledge, ripping it off like a bandage. But his goal now wasn't to shock his wife into quietude. He had to be gentle.
"This … this isn't my first time living," Aemon said, wincing at how silly the words sounded in his ears.
"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.
"This life? I've lived it before. But I wasn't king in that time. I was merely a bastard, Jon Snow. When Robert Baratheon came to Winterfell to make my father his Hand, I promptly left to go to the Wall and join the other outcasts. He told me that when next we met, he would tell me about my mother. A year after that, he was murdered, executed for treason by Joffrey Baratheon. The realm descended into war. As a member of the Night's Watch, I was forced to stay on the Wall, hearing only snippets of the chaos that unfolded in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms."
He launched into the explanation, doing his best to relay it in chronological order. However, it had been long enough that the parts that were nearly ten years old had started to fade. Memories that had not so long ago been fresh in his mind now slipped through his fingers like sand. At one point, he'd been startled out of his retelling by a knock on the door, which forced him to cut off and send Dany's ladies away once more.
When he returned to Dany's side, she had a far off expression of shock. He grimaced. It seems my intentions missed the mark, he thought, but he settled himself back down and continued.
He told her as much as he knew of her own history. He wouldn't soon forget the look on her face upon hearing that she regarded Khal Drogo as her sun and stars. It was something akin to disgust. He knew something had happened for her to have a much colder attitude toward the dead Khal, but she'd never said and he had been wary of prying.
At some point in the retelling, he began to look concerned as she paled and appeared to be on the verge of fainting. "Dany, are you well?"
"Don't stop," she said. Though she no longer looked him in the eye, he knew she was still listening by the way she clenched and unclenched her fingers.
He gave a truncated summary of what happened in King's Landing given both his and hers original distance from the conflict, though he did mention that Jaime had originally bedded his sister. She'd looked as ill as Aemon had felt when he'd first learned about it. That Jaime seemed a mere ghost of the one he knew now. It was difficult to reconcile the two.
Finally, he glossed over her death, merely mentioning that the Night King brought down Drogon and she had fallen with him. He then relayed to her his own death at the hands of the Night King.
"As soon as I felt myself die, I next opened my eyes and found myself back at Winterfell. I don't know how or why, but the Gods—old or new or both, I can't be sure—chose me and Jaime to right the wrongs of the past. The plan was always to claim the throne instead of hiding away at the Wall, but even I didn't see myself claiming it all the way back in Winterfell."
She was breathing heavily at this point and refused to look at him. "Do you see? Do you see now why I couldn't bring myself to tell you? It's madness, but it's all true. I swear it."
Dany opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She moved her eyes as though she thought she could find the words somewhere in their room.
"Dany? Dany!" Aemon asked, taking hold of her hand.
"Get out," she declared. Though she was composed, he didn't miss the wince crossing her face.
"No, you need help," he insisted.
"Get out! Get out NOW!" Dany roared into his face.
He took a step back, but then watched her fold over, clutching the bump where their baby was. His eyes widened. "Is it—? Are you—?"
"Get out," she managed to grit.
He left this time, but when he opened the door he called out, "Fetch the grand maester! It's the baby!" Ser Torrhen nodded and turned on his heel.
Aemon went back to her side. "Let's get you into bed," he said, taking her hand and leading her. Though she still glared in her fury, she didn't say a word against him and pulled herself onto the bed. Her ladies rushed into the room, helping to situate her and taking some of the pillows from her nest to prop her up.
Missandei and Doreah worked at the ties to her dress and pulled it off her. She did not stay unclothed for long as one of them rushed and found a white shift. Aemon stood frozen and helpless by her bedside, staring down at her as she clenched in pain.
"Your Grace!" He turned to see Grand Maester Brunal enter the room. "Your wife needs her privacy and I need space to work. You must leave."
"No, I want to stay," Aemon demanded, even as the ladies began guiding him out. He dug his heels in and stubbornly held out hope, despite the fact that nearly every man, including Jaime, said that he would be refused because it's simply not a man's place.
"I should be by my wife's side. It's only right," Aemon insisted.
"I don't want to see you right now," Daenerys hissed between her clenched teeth.
"As she says, so you must obey. This is her domain now," Brunal said before closing the doors unceremoniously in his face.
"I think you're the first man I've seen who wants to be party to that," the Hound said, his mouth twisted into a grimace.
"I want to see my child enter the world," Aemon said, putting his head on the door. Daenerys was not screaming, so he could only hear the maester's shouted commands and the movements of the ladies helping him.
"You'd just be in the way," the Hound said.
"He's right, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said as he arrived with Ser Torrhen, throwing a disapproving look at the Hound. "It can be … messy. Uncouth. Better the maester be unobstructed. Now all you can do is wait."
Aemon ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "When will the baby arrive?"
"Can't say, Your Grace," Barristan said.
"It'll come when it comes," the Hound growled.
"How long could that be?" Aemon insisted.
"It could be a day or more," Barristan said. "We'll know when we know. Best you not dwell on it and try to go about your day."
How am I supposed to do that? Aemon wanted to shout, but the answer was fruitless. He turned away in frustration and stormed away, the Hound and Ser Barristan in tow. I will never forgive myself if the babe is too early, he thought as he got a leaden feeling in his stomach. I should've told her sooner. Much, much sooner! After we married, he berated himself.
He was such a fool! Part of him had been afraid she would break their betrothal if he told her before the wedding. Perhaps that was unfair of him, but he hadn't even wanted to think of having to live another lifetime without her.
Though ruling a kingdom was never easy, Aemon felt he'd found his stride in it. Thoughts of his previous life had receded to the back of his mind. After all, its bearing on the present was becoming increasingly nonexistent and at best unreliable. He'd been scraping the bottom of the barrel of his memories for reliable information about the Ironborn. Most of what he knew, he learned from Lord Monford Velaryon and Theon.
While his memories had had some use with regards to the negotiations of the free folk, it did little more than remind them of certain characters and personalities they'd have to negotiate and contend with. He couldn't even be there in person to inform Jaime.
It was only as he was entering a grove of trees that he realized his footsteps had pointed him toward the godswood. He breathed in deeply as he strode between the trees. Under normal circumstances, he'd relax while listening to the wind rustling the leaves of the tree, but his mind was too consumed with his worry for Daenerys and their child.
He was startled when a wolf came out of the trees. He ruffled Ghost's head, but could barely summon more than a weak smile. "My boy, how are you? Did Jaime treat you well?"
Ghost couldn't resist leaping up to lick him on the face. Nymeria and Lady soon also entered the clearing. Nymeria jumped up and he nearly fell under her weight. "Stop, girl," he commanded in a harsh tone. He let out a breath and tried to rein in his temper. "Good to see you too. Lady, you're so lovely. The Seven burn me, I still need to see the girls." He sighed deeply at the thought. It's not that he didn't want to see them, but his mind would remain on Dany as long as she was suffering through the birth.
"I should arrange for dinner to be had in the Stark quarters," he said to himself as he continued to shower the wolves with affection. Before he left, he knelt in front of the weirwood tree, bowed his head, and began praying. "Please, the Old Gods and the New, please see that Daenerys and our child make it through the birth safely. I beg of you. They're all I have and I wouldn't care to live without them."
Before he'd been brought back into the new life, he'd never paid it much mind whether the Gods were listening or not. But ever since he knew they were out there, he expected and awaited an answer. But just as it had every other time, the weirwood tree remained infuriatingly silent and unchanged.
Author's Notes: I will be posting a poll on Facebook and Discord for you to vote on Dany and Aemon's child's name, so fi you want a say, you'll need to go to those places.
Book 1 of TDR is now available in PDF book format version. You can:
