Aemon I 90AC

Aemon had still yet to make up his mind in regards to the impending nuptials of his only child to the notorious Lord Corlys Velaryon. It seemed only yesterday his beloved Jocelyn had presented him with a newborn Rhaenys, black haired and beautiful with lovely lilac eyes. But his daughter was six and ten now, on the cusp of womanhood, and soon, out of her own free will, Rhaenys would marry a man older than Aemon himself.

"You're awake early," Aemon turned to see his brother Baelon enter the small dining hall he had been sitting in. "Sleep well?" Baelon walked over to the long table and pulled out a chair to sit across from him, grabbing an apple from the platter the servants had brought in earlier.

"My daughter is to be married," Aemon declared simply. His expression turned darker as he took a sip from his goblet before looking up into his younger brother's eyes. "And Corlys Velaryon is not the good son I would have wished to have. Baelon I do not believe I have slept well in moons."

"We've had this conversation before, brother," Baelon replied. "Need I remind you, that the Sea Snake is currently one of the largest threats to our power. He has been since his Nine Voyages and the Velaryons' rapid ascent to becoming among the richest noble families in Westeros. It is essential, it is dire, for Corlys Velaryon to be bound by blood to House Targaryen."

"He has been a threat for nearly a decade, Baelon!" Aemon shouted. "Father could have ensured his loyalty years ago." He slammed his fist on the table.

"Daella should have been the one to marry Lord Corlys! Father sent her to Driftmark for a betrothal agreement but sweet Daella complains to Mother that 'Lord Velaryon is only interested in his ship,'" Aemon mocked in an absurd voice in an attempt to mimic his dead sister, "and just like that Wise King Jaehaerys and Good Queen Alysanne decide that of course, Daella should marry the man that she desires. An old Lord, widowed with children older than her, who will give her babes destined to inherit nothing. Certainly this is the better choice for Daella rather than having her be the Lady of the Tides which would have prevented that bastard Sea Snake from going off and seducing my daughter!"

Aemon could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. He closed his eyes tightly and slowly unclenched his fist.

"Are you done?" He opened his eyes to see Baelon staring at him with the eyes of a father looking down at a small child after a temper tantrum.

"Don't look at me like that." Aemon sighed. "You look like Father." Baelon frowned at the comparison. "That makes you look more like Father."

Baelon rolled his eyes. "Are you done? It'll be a miracle if half the castle doesn't hear of the Prince of Dragontone's meltdown."

"That was no meltdown," Aemon replied sternly. His expression softened. "I'm sorry though, Baelon. I should not have spoken ill of our sister."

"No, you should not have. Daella is gone and there is no use in speaking ill of the dead. But you underestimate Rhaenys, brother. Daella never had a sharp wit. She did not have the spine nor the will to reign in Lord Corlys. Your daughter does." Baelon reached across the table to grasp Aemon's hand. "Have faith in Rhaenys." He gave Aemon's hand a squeeze. "And if you do not, know that I do."

Aemon met Baelon's eyes again. "I wish that she had waited to marry Viserys. It should be our grandson to follow Rhaenys on the throne. But no matter how much I, or Jocelyn or even our sister Gael attempted to persuade her, Rhaenys refused."

"I could not begrudge my niece for failing to desire my son," Baelon laughed. "Viserys is a boy of three and ten, and even when he is grown I doubt he will ever inspire a maiden's dream the way the Sea Snake obviously does."

Aemon gently smacked his brother's shoulder in response to his quip. "Don't make me think of such things, Baelon, you know…"

"There you are," Gael, his youngest sister, interrupted, breathing heavily as she stood in the doorway. Her silver hair was wild and Aemon's nephew Daemon was tightly clutching to one of the ends of her walking staff.

Gael looked at Baelon with angry eyes. "Your son, brother, after I so generously allowed him to accompany me on Tessarion this morning, has refused to leave me be since returning to the Red Keep!" Gael stomped her foot down. "Everywhere I go he has followed me like some lost puppy! I tried to ignore the little menace," she glared down at Daemon, "and now he grabs my hair and refuses to let go of my staff!" Gael attempted to tug the staff out of Daemon's grasp but the boy refused to release it. "I am going to be late to my tea with Rhaenys because of him!"

Baelon looked at his son, still dressed in riding leathers with a little smirk etched across his face, before glancing at Aemon with knowing eyes filled with mirth.

"Daemon," Baelon's voice warned. "Come sit next to your Uncle Aemon and I."

Daemon scowled but released his Aunt's staff and slowly walked towards the table, refusing to meet his Father's gaze.

"Thank you, Baelon," Gael sighed in relief and straightened her riding dress. "Aemon, I am off to meet Rhaenys."

Aemon nodded at the young girl, for that is what she was despite all her wit, a girl, who was his sister by blood but Rhaenys' in every way but. Gael smiled at him gently before turning and walking down the hall.

"So, my son," Baelon's enunciated at Daemon who now sat in a chair that was much too big for him by Aemon's left. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Daemon looked down at the table.

"Daemon?" Baelon prodded.

"She's always with Rhaenys!" Daemon cried out. "I want Gael to pay attention to me."

"Son, your Aunt took you flying this morning."

"I want her to pay more attention to me." The boy spewed angrily.

"It seems that history has found a way of repeating itself," Aemon chuckled. "Reminds you of someone, does he not?"

"Who do I remind you of, Uncle?" Daemon asked curiously as Baelon's eyes twinkled in amusement.

"When your father was old enough to walk, nephew, he followed me around everywhere. We were and still are close as brothers can be," Aemon smiled at the memories from his childhood. "And when your mother, our sister Alyssa, came along, she in turn clung to Baelon."

"It was very annoying," Baelon interrupted. "I wanted nothing to do with her."

"But Alyssa persisted. Your mother was a dragon that knew what she wanted and she did not give up easily. It took time but in the end, she emerged from her quest victorious, wouldn't you agree, Baelon?"

"My sons wouldn't exist if she hadn't," Baelon bluntly stated before turning to his youngest son. "Go find your Aunt Gael, Daemon. Do your very best to ensure our dear sister does not forget about your existence."

A grin spread across Daemon's face and Aemon's subsequent laughter nearly caused him to choke on his water.

"May I be excused, Father?"

Baelon nodded and Daemon ran out of the room. Aemon gave him a questioning glance as he wiped the water droplets from his chin.

"I did not expect you to be so encouraging," he remarked.

"Mother will have Gael wed within the family and I have no desire for that Targaryen to be me," Baelon's purple eyes then filled with the mischief Aemon normally only saw in his youngest nephew. "And the Red Keep could use a little entertainment."

"You're insane, brother," Aemon shook his head, much to Baelon's amusement. "Child she may be, but you must pray to the Old Gods and the New that our sister never finds out that you were the one to set your son loose on her."

"Even if Gael somehow learns that I encouraged him, Daemon is his mother's son. A little menace she may call him now but in a few years I assure you she will think very, very differently."