Notes:
This is a story based on the Game of Thrones books and TV series, but be warned, it's a very AU (Alternate Universe) story. If you're someone who doesn't enjoy a story that deviates a lot from canon, where certain characters may act out of character, or if you're not a fan of romance with a good amount of fluff, and a story that ultimately has a happy ending, then this may not be the right story for you.
Chapter 8
VALYRIA 284 AC
The soft morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, casting a warm glow over the small meeting room in the Targaryen mansion. Aelora Balaerys, Elaena Targaryen, and Jon Connington, now refreshed after a restful night's sleep, gathered to discuss the current state of affairs in Westeros and the best course of action to establish a Targaryen on the throne.
Aelora and Elaena focused on Jon as he unrolled a map before them. It depicted the realm of Westeros, and Aelora's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Jon, how recent is this map?" she asked eagerly, her voice brimming with curiosity.
"This map is no more than two years old, My Lady," Jon replied. "Among the items I managed to bring from Westeros, I have others in my possession, and if you so desire, I can offer them to you."
Aelora's smile widened, and she retrieved another map of her own, though it revealed a different era. It unveiled the intricate political landscape of 400 years ago when the Seven Kingdoms stood as independent realms, each house and kingdom meticulously delineated.
Jon took a moment to study the map, his eyes widening in awe at the exquisite details. The names of the houses and significant locations seemed to come alive as if touched by a hint of magic. He couldn't help but be impressed.
"The great houses in Westeros would pay a fortune for a map like this," he remarked, his gaze shifting between Aelora and Elaena, who were deeply engrossed in studying the map he had brought.
Aelora's excitement was palpable, her enthusiasm radiating from her. "And I would be willing to pay a fortune for this map, Jon. With this knowledge, we can navigate the current political landscape more effectively," she declared, displaying both determination and an understanding of the map's significance.
As Jon began to narrate, his voice carried a mix of passion and reverence. "Allow me to transport you back to the time of Aegon the Conqueror," he said, capturing their undivided attention.
"Over a hundred years after your brother Aenar relocated your family from Valyria to Dragonstone, three of his descendants—Aegon, accompanied by his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys—mounted their mighty dragons and forged a union of the Seven Kingdoms under the Targaryen banner."
Elaena's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned forward. "Tell us more about Aegon and his sisters, Jon. How did they shape the realm?" she inquired, eager for further insights into their ancestral history.
Jon's voice brimmed with enthusiasm as he continued, "Aegon possessed a vision that surpassed any ruler of his time. His strategic brilliance and ability to inspire loyalty were unmatched. Visenya, on the other hand, embodied strength and formidable warrior skills. Rhaenys, the diplomat, had a charm that won hearts and forged alliances."
The conversation unfolded, and both Elaena Targaryen and Aelora Velaryon found themselves captivated by the tale of how Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys conquered all the kingdoms except for Dorne.
"He was a wise man," Aelora remarked about Torrhen Stark. "Acknowledging the might of dragons and prioritizing peace over destruction."
Jon nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Torrhen Stark's decision showcased wisdom," he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "He became known as the King Who Knelt, as he chose to bend the knee to Aegon rather than wage a futile war."
As Jon Connington finished recounting the story of the conquest, Elaena, who had been focused on listening, spoke up. "Tell me about the Targaryen kings who followed Aegon," she urged, her curiosity evident.
Jon nodded, delving deeper into the annals of Targaryen history. "Aegon's successors faced their own triumphs and trials, my lady," he continued. "However, not all chapters of your family's history are painted with triumph."
Elaena maintained a neutral expression as Jon spoke about the successors of Aegon the Conqueror. But as Jon began to talk about the events known as the Dance of the Dragons, Elaena's expression darkened, and her heart broke with sadness.
"The Dance of the Dragons, a tragic civil war within House Targaryen, fractured unity. It was a time of great loss and sorrow," Jon explained. "The internal conflicts during the Dance of the Dragons weakened the Targaryen grip on power. Siblings clashed, dragons clashed, and Westeros suffered the consequences. Targaryen influence waned, and the once-mighty dragons dwindled in number."
As Jon delved into the details of the major events, he noticed that Elaena's eyes were sparkling. For a brief moment, he thought he saw her beautiful violet eyes turn into a bright red, filled with controlled fury. At the same time, tears streamed down her cheeks.
"My Lady, would you like me to pause the narrative for a moment?" Jon asked, surprised by the shift in Elaena's expression from anger to affection.
"No, Lord Jon, please continue," Elaena replied, her voice filled with determination. She wiped away her tears, her gaze unwavering. "I want to hear it all, no matter how painful. I need to understand the history fully. However, before you proceed, I want you to know that I wholeheartedly appreciate your unwavering loyalty to my brother's descendants and your honesty in recounting these events."
Jon nodded, acknowledging her heartfelt gratitude, and resumed his narration, starting from the coronation of Aegon III and leading up to the reign of Aerys II.
Jon Connington cleared his throat, preparing to embark on the tale of Aerys II Targaryen's reign and the Rebellion of Robert. "My ladies," Jon began, his voice steady and infused with purpose. "Before I delve into the events of Aerys II Targaryen's reign, the last king of the dynasty, I must acknowledge the extraordinary experience we shared during the magical ceremony last night."
He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. "Before the ceremony, I witnessed last night, I had no knowledge of the closely guarded secret held by Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. It was only through the mystical enchantment of that moment that my eyes were opened to the truth," said Jon, observing how Elaena and Aelora understood his words well.
"Rhaegar committed a grave mistake by keeping their relationship concealed, hidden away from the world," continued Jon Connington. His voice carried a hint of regret as he delved into the past. "If the truth had been revealed, if the realm had known about Lyanna's pregnancy and the legitimacy of the child, perhaps the Rebellion could have been prevented. Disagreements would undoubtedly have arisen, but it wouldn't have escalated into a full-scale war. The war could have been avoided, and the dire consequences that followed might have been averted."
Elaena's eyes widened, struck by Jon's words. The weight of his revelations sank deep within her. She grasped the profound implications of hidden truths and untold stories.
"Lord Jon," Aelora Balaerys spoke. "I beseech you to narrate the events as known in the official version, the account believed in Westeros. I want to understand why the conflict occurred based on the information available to those involved."
Jon nodded, understanding Aelora's request. With solemn determination, he embarked on recounting the events according to the official history. He began with the abduction of Lyanna Stark by Rhaegar, an act that ignited the flames of rebellion.
"The conflict began when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen abducted Lyanna Stark, who was betrothed to Robert Baratheon," Jon's voice resonated in the room, captivating the attention of those present.
"Upon learning of this, Lyanna's older brother, Brandon Stark, who was the heir to Lord Rickard Stark, the ruler of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and the head of House Stark, immediately rode to King's Landing accompanied by his loyal companions. Among them were his squire Ethan Glover, Kyle Royce, Elbert Arryn, and Jeffory Mallister. They sought to challenge Prince Rhaegar, demanding him to face the consequences of his actions. However, fate had a different plan, as the prince was not present in the capital at the time. Brandon and his companions were arrested on the orders of King Aerys II, accused of conspiring against and threatening the heir to the throne."
Jon's expression turned somber as he continued his narration, unraveling the tragic events that unfolded. "King Aerys II, consumed by madness, issued an order that sent shockwaves through the realm. The fathers of the imprisoned men were summoned to King's Landing to answer for the alleged crimes of their sons."
Against advice, Lord Rickard agreed, assuming that the matter would be settled through a trial or a bargain of some kind. Instead, Aerys had Rickard burned alive while Brandon strangled himself trying to save his father."
Elaena, who had been listening to the narration with an inscrutable expression, spoke up. "Lord Jon, before you continue, I would like to know something. As the Hand of King Aerys, please tell me honestly, what was your opinion of the king? I want to know if he was truly mad or if this narrative is more of a propaganda."
Jon Connington took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Elaena Targaryen's face. As the Hand of the King to Aerys II, he had witnessed firsthand the events that unfolded during the Mad King's reign. Now, in exile, he had had ample time to reflect and contemplate the mistakes that had been made.
"My lady Elaena," Jon began, his voice carrying a weight of solemnity and sincerity. "The events that transpired during Aerys II's reign, including the tragic ones I have shared, were not mere propaganda. I cannot deny the truth of Aerys' madness. The actions I witnessed, and the suffering I saw inflicted upon innocent people, were the result of a man consumed by paranoia and cruelty. It pained me deeply to witness the atrocities committed under his rule."
Jon paused and continued, "However, that does not mean that the one currently occupying the throne is anything more than a usurper," he said with sudden anger. "The true king is Aegon Targaryen the 6th, who is here with us in this mansion."
"Thank you, Lord Jon," she finally spoke, her voice laced with sadness. "Please continue with your narration."
Jon continued, delving into the pivotal battles and key moments of the rebellion. As he described the Battle of the Trident, where Robert Baratheon's war hammer clashed against Rhaegar Targaryen's sword, Jon noticed Elaena's somber expression. The weight of the past and the tragedy that had befallen her family hung heavy in the air.
"The Battle of the Trident," Jon's voice carried sorrow , "was the turning point. Rhaegar faced Robert in single combat, their weapons meeting amidst the roar of the river. At that moment, Rhaegar's dreams and the hopes of House Targaryen were shattered. Robert, wielding an enormous war hammer, emerged victorious, sealing the fate of the Targaryen dynasty."
Elaena nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you for sharing these stories, Lord Jon. They are painful reminders of the consequences of secrets and madness."
Jon bowed his head in acknowledgment. "It is my duty and honor to recount these tales, my lady. History should never be forgotten, no matter how painful it may be."
Jon continued his narration, recounting the events that unfolded after the Battle of the Trident. "The Sack of King's Landing," Jon's voice carried a sense of gravity, "was the invasion and pillaging conducted upon the city of King's Landing, marking one of the final and most brutal acts of the War of the Usurper. Led by Tywin Lannister, the sack resulted in the horrific murders of the entire Targaryen royal family."
As Jon spoke those words, he glanced at Elaena and noticed a brief glimmer in her eyes, the color shifting back to red. "However," he gently spoke, "you are already aware that the version circulating in Westeros is not the whole truth. Aegon and Rhaenys are safe, peacefully asleep in the mansion where we currently gather."
ELAENA POV
As I listened intently to Jon's narration, an inexplicable surge of blood fury stirred within me. It had been years since I had experienced such a powerful rage, not since the days when I rode a dragon into battle against the Dothraki hordes. My senses, sharpened by my magical training, alerted me to the unspoken horrors lurking beneath Jon's words. While he had mentioned the brutal murders of my family, he had not delved into the grisly details. Yet, there was an unmistakable undertone of profound sadness and horror in his voice.
With a calm and determined expression, I locked eyes with Jon and made my request, "Jon, I am aware that Aegon and Rhaenys are here with us, safe and peacefully sleeping. However, I can sense the weight of unspeakable tragedy in your voice, and while you spoke of brutal murders, you left the details unsaid. I implore you to share with me the chilling accounts of how my family met their untimely end."
I paused to observe Aelora, who silently approved of my request, and then continued, "Why do the people of Westeros believe that Aegon and Rhaenys are dead when they are actually alive?"
As I waited for Jon's response, my sixth sense tingled, urging me to seek further understanding. "And what about their mother?" I asked, anticipation coloring my voice.
END OF ELAENA POV
Jon Connington said, "My ladies, if I may, I would like to first explain how Aegon and Rhaenys were able to be saved. In the details, you will understand why the people of Westeros believe them to be dead." Jon noticed Elaena and Aelora were in agreement with his proposal and indicated for him to continue.
As Jon Connington continued his narration, the remarkable tale of Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen's miraculous escape unfolded. He described the heroic efforts of loyalists who risked their lives to protect the young Targaryen children, including the role played by Varys, the Master of Whisperers.
"With Varys, the Master of Whisperers, leading the way, a meticulously crafted plan was set in motion to safeguard the lives of the Targaryen children," Jon began, his voice tinged with intrigue. "Drawing upon the information gathered by his network of spies and informants, Varys was aware of Tywin Lannister's ambitious nature and harbored doubts about his loyalty towards the Targaryens. This knowledge served as the catalyst for the plan's inception."
Jon's words painted a picture of a careful and calculated strategy born out of Varys's deep understanding of the political landscape and his ability to exploit the ambitions and secrets of powerful figures.
"Utilizing his vast array of resources, Varys orchestrated the acquisition of infants who bore an uncanny resemblance to Aegon and Rhaenys," Jon explained.
Aelora, filled with curiosity, interjected, "Jon, I always believed that slavery did not exist in Westeros. How was it possible to acquire these children?"
Jon met Aelora's gaze and replied, "Indeed, slavery is not prevalent in Westeros. It was through the means of a small fortune in gold that impoverished yet ambitious parents were persuaded to part with their children. In this harsh and unforgiving world, such transactions, fueled by desperation and the pursuit of a better life, unfortunately occur." He paused for a moment, sensing the weight of his words, and continued.
"But fate had a surprise in store. In a critical moment when the troops led by Tywin Lannister had seized the city and were advancing towards the Red Keep, Varys was trying to convince Elia Martell, the mother of Aegon and Rhaenys, to entrust their children to him. However, Elia initially resisted, hesitant to part with her beloved children," Jon revealed, recounting the tense discussion between Varys and Elia.
As the heated debate between Varys and Elia reached an impasse, to the astonishment of both, Jaime Lannister suddenly materialized before them. Jon underscored the unexpected arrival of Jaime, a member of the Kingsguard and, at the same time, a prominent figure of House Lannister, being the son of Tywin Lannister.
Jaime's unexpected presence shifted the dynamic of the situation. It was he who took it upon himself to persuade Elia to entrust their children to him, presenting a compelling argument that convinced her to reconsider. Varys, surprised by Jaime's intervention, recognized the value of his involvement and the potential it held for the success of their mission.
"You cannot protect your children if they remain here," Jaime's voice resonated with a rare sense of compassion, his eyes meeting Elia's tear-filled gaze. "Let me ensure their safety, away from the chaos of war. They will be hidden, protected, and given the chance to live."
Elia, her heart torn but her love for her children unwavering reluctantly agreed. She handed her precious babies, Aegon and Rhaenys, to Jaime, trusting him with their lives.
As Jon narrated this pivotal moment, the room fell into a heavy silence. Jon took a deep breath, his eyes conveying the profound responsibility he carried as he continued, "And so, disguised and protected, Aegon and Rhaenys were spirited away from King's Landing, leaving behind the tumultuous affairs of Westeros and finding sanctuary in the distant land of Essos," Jon concluded, the weight of their incredible journey palpable in his voice.
Impressed, Aelora Balaerys asked, "Jon, how do you possess such detailed information? According to your narration, you were already in exile in Essos."
"It's quite simple, my lady," replied Jon Connington. "Varys's spy network extends not only throughout Westeros but also encompasses a significant part of Essos. Through these spies, I received a letter written by Varys himself."
Aelora nodded, contemplating the vast reach of Varys's network of spies. "So, even from afar, you were able to gather firsthand knowledge about the events that transpired."
Jon's expression grew serious, his eyes glistening with a mix of sorrow and determination—something that did not go unnoticed by Elaena and Aelora. He understood the weight of the story he was about to reveal and the profound impact it would have on those who would listen. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he knew it was time to shed light on the tragic events that befell the children mistaken for Aegon and Rhaenys, as well as their mother.
As Jon began to recount the harrowing tale of the murders, his voice carried a weight of sadness and resolve.
"Tywin Lannister dispatched his ruthless knights, Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch, on a mission," Jon spoke with a heavy tone. "Their target: the remaining members of the Targaryen royal family. Their objective: to eradicate any threats to Robert Baratheon's claim to the Iron Throne. It was a chilling demonstration that House Lannister's allegiance had shifted, leaving the Targaryens vulnerable and betrayed."
Jon paused briefly, his gaze fixed on Elaena and Aelora, who listened intently.
"Gregor Clegane, known for his hulking size and savage brutality, stormed into the chambers where the royal family sought refuge," Jon continued, his voice filled with anguish. "With an air of merciless efficiency, he set his sights on the young prince, Aegon. Elia, the boy's mother, could only watch in horror as her beloved son's life was extinguished before her eyes. But Gregor's savagery didn't stop there. In a twisted act of violence, he violated and then mercilessly murdered the defenseless Elia."
Meanwhile, Amory Lorch, equally as ruthless, prowled through the halls in search of the young princess, Rhaenys. Finding her hiding beneath her father's bed, the innocent child was defenseless against his blade. With cold determination, Lorch unleashed a flurry of fatal stabs, extinguishing the life of the innocent princess.
With each word, Jon observed the reactions of Elaena and Aelora, keenly aware of their emotional responses. Elaena, though her eyes maintained their normal color, displayed a simmering fury that burned beneath the surface. Her clenched fists and tense posture betrayed her anger. Meanwhile, Aelora maintained a calm exterior, her expression composed, but Jon noticed the subtle furrowing of her brow. It was a telltale sign that her mind was racing.
After briefly observing them, Jon continued, "In the aftermath, Tywin presented the slain bodies of Elia, Aegon, and Rhaenys as a twisted offering, a macabre testament to his newfound loyalty to Robert Baratheon, who had just arrived at the Red Keep. But this display of loyalty did not sit well with all those present."
Jon noticed Aelora raising an eyebrow upon hearing this. "According to the information I gathered from Varys' letters, Eddard Stark, who was among those accompanying Robert, was a man of honor and integrity. Consumed by fury and repulsion at the senseless murders of innocent children and their mother, Eddard found himself unable to accept Tywin's act as anything other than a dark reflection of Aerys' madness."
Upon hearing these words, Elaena's demeanor underwent a momentary change. Her anger, though still present, seemed momentarily overshadowed by a profound sense of shame.
Jon continued, "After a heated argument between Robert and Eddard, the latter departed the city in a fit of rage."
With a somber tone, Jon concluded the story, describing how Robert, whom he referred to as the Usurper, ascended to the throne in a grand coronation ceremony. In his quest to solidify an alliance with House Lannister, Robert married Cersei Lannister, the daughter of Tywin.
After finishing his narrative, Jon noticed Elaena and Aelora looking at him with gratitude. They had heard the painful truth, but they also understood the significance of the information he shared.
"That was an exceptional report, Jon," Aelora praised. "The information you've shared is crucial for us to grasp the current political landscape of Westeros. It will undoubtedly aid us in formulating a strategic plan to restore a Targaryen to the throne."
Elaena, her eyes filled with tears, could only manage to say with a broken voice, "Thank you, Lord Jon." Her gratitude was evident.
Jon nodded appreciatively. It is an honor to contribute to such an important cause. However, if I may offer further insight, allow me to share my opinion based on what I have witnessed here in Valyria."
"Please continue," Aelora encouraged.
Jon replied, "My lady, Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys conquered six kingdoms 300 years ago with only three dragons," he said, gesturing with three fingers. "Yesterday, I witnessed hundreds and hundreds of dragons soaring through the skies, three of which..." Jon noticed a faint smile on Aelora's face and continued, "Three dragons in particular, one of which, my lady, was the dragon you were riding. It dwarfed even Balerion the Black Dread, the legendary dragon of Aegon the Conqueror and the largest ever seen in Westeros."
Jon Connington was about to continue, but he noticed Aelora Balaerys gently signaling for him to pause. Curiosity flickered in his eyes as he turned his attention to Aelora.
"Elaena, could you please bring the ceremonial dagger of your family?" Aelora requested, her tone filled with purpose.
Elaena understood Aelora's intent and nodded, leaving the chamber for a brief moment. She returned shortly, holding the dagger in her hand. The blade gleamed in the dim light of the room.
Jon's interest was piqued as he watched Aelora take the dagger from Elaena. He wondered what significance it held in their conversation.
Aelora held the dagger delicately, her gaze focused and determined. She turned to Jon and spoke with conviction. "Jon, I appreciate your insight on what needs to be done to restore a Targaryen to the throne, and believe me when I say that under different circumstances, I would wholeheartedly agree with you," she paused, noting Jon's expectant gaze.
"But," she continued with determination, "there are certain things that you still don't know, and at this moment, they take precedence for the Valyrian Freehold." She paused again, briefly contemplating the dagger in her hand, lightly running her finger along its edge.
Jon's brow furrowed, his curiosity growing. He sensed that there was more to the situation than he initially grasped.
"Jon," Aelora said, looking at him intently, "As a representative of the Triarchy of the Valyrian Freehold, I would like to propose a blood pact with you. A pact that ensures what Elaena and I are about to share remains a secret, known only to the people within the peninsula and kept hidden from the outside world."
After a moment of contemplation, Jon nodded, accepting the weight of the agreement. "I understand the need for secrecy and the importance of preserving the Valyrian Freehold. If a blood pact is what it takes to solidify our alliance and protect our mutual interests, then I am willing to partake."
Jon noticed Aelora's smile as she made a small, ceremonial cut on the palm of her hand. She then gestured for him to extend his hand, and he followed suit. With precision and care, Aelora made a small cut on Jon's palm, symbolizing the pact they were about to forge. Continuing the ritual, she also made a small cut on Elaena's hand. As the blood mingled, Jon observed a faint glow emanating from the dagger, adding an air of mysticism to the moment.
Aelora began softly chanting ancient words, their rhythmic cadence filling the room. The dagger seemed to respond, its glow intensifying as if infused with a higher power. The enchanting melody and the radiant light held them captivated.
After a few moments, Aelora's chant reached its climax, and she smiled, a sense of accomplishment in her eyes. "It is done," she declared, her voice carrying a reverent tone.
As the echoes of the ritual subsided, Aelora took a deep breath, locking her gaze with Jon's. "Jon, when you and your crew arrived yesterday, did you notice anything unusual at the port? Something out of the ordinary?" Aelora asked enigmatically.
"Yes," Jon replied, sensing the weight of the question. "I was taken aback by the number of ships being constructed—ships with a design unlike anything I had ever seen before," he continued, noting Aelora and Elaena's agreement with his observation.
Aelora Balaerys and Elaena Targaryen began to explain to Jon Connington about the temporal effect of the spell that had transported Valyria and the peninsula into the future, and the necessity to find a new location. "Our ancestors devised this spell to grant us a time frame of 30 to 50 years, believing it would provide enough time for their descendants to discover a new place to call home," Elaena stated with determination, observing Jon's attentive demeanor.
"I understand," Jon said, sensing the direction of the conversation. "My ladies, from what you are telling me, it seems that the Freehold is utilizing all its resources to build a fleet that will transport each of its inhabitants to a new land to inhabit" he surmised, his voice reflecting a mix of understanding and concern. "Is that correct?".
Aelora and Elaena exchanged a glance before Aelora spoke, her voice tinged with intrigue.
"You understand correctly, Jon. The Valyrian Freehold is preparing for a grand expedition, a journey to a new land where our civilization can thrive once again. The construction of the fleet you witnessed is our means of transportation, our hope for a better future," Aelora stated, noticing Jon's evident awe.
Aelora paused for a moment, her eyes filled with determination, before continuing, "Jon, until we have completed this migration and secured our presence in this new homeland, the Valyrian Freehold cannot afford to divert its resources and attention toward Westeros."
Jon took a moment to absorb the weight of her words, comprehending the immense task that lay ahead. With a furrowed brow, he posed another question, his curiosity urging him forward. "And where is this new land, this sanctuary, that you seek?" he inquired, his voice filled with anticipation.
Aelora and Elaena exchanged glances once again, and Aelora, aware of the Westerosi's deep-rooted fear of that land, smirked and said, "The continent of Numenor," as she observed Jon Connington's expression filled with astonishment and a hint of fear.
"Seven hells," Jon Connington exclaimed, momentarily forgetting about formality. His reaction widened the smiles on Aelora and Elaena's faces.
The name struck a chord within Jon, evoking tales of a lost civilization, perhaps the oldest human civilization in the world, even older than the Ghiscari Empire. He had heard whispers of Numenor's formidable history and the calamity that befell it. The legendary tales spoke of a once-great empire, blessed by the gods and renowned for its advanced knowledge and immense power. But its hubris and desire for immortality led to its downfall. And the stories that echoed throughout Westeros painted Numenor as a haunted continent.
Aelora, sensing Jon's unease, stepped forward with unwavering determination. "Jon, the stories of Numenor's haunting are not mere myths. The land carries the weight of its past, echoing ancient sorrows and forgotten spirits. But fear not, for Valyria does not cower before such apparitions. Our mastery of magic allows us to communicate with these ethereal beings, bending them to our will through the power of blood magic."
She paused, letting her words sink in and Jon's unease fade. "Consider the advantages, Jon. The haunted nature of Numenor has kept it untouched and uninhabited for thousands of years. It is a pristine canvas, ready for our settlement. There are no rival claimants or territorial disputes to contend with. We have the opportunity to shape this wild realm according to our own vision."
Aelora's eyes gleamed with fierce determination as she continued. "We already have a reconnaissance team in place, a group of skilled mages who have been researching and exploring the continent for a year now. They have paved the way for our expedition, uncovering valuable knowledge and mapping the land. With their expertise, we can navigate the challenges and mysteries that lie ahead."
Jon paused for a moment, contemplating the implications of this new truth revealed. He heard Aelora Balaerys's sympathetic voice encouraging him, "Go ahead, Jon, take some time to think." Jon nodded and continued to ponder. He understood the urgency and gravity of the Valyrian Freehold's current priorities; the migration to Numenor was a matter of life or death. However, he couldn't suppress his concerns about the Targaryens' ambitions in Westeros.
After contemplating for a considerable time, Jon looked at Aelora Balaerys and Elaena Targaryen, who watched him expectantly. With solemnity in his voice, Jon spoke up.
"Thank you, my ladies, for your patience and understanding," Jon began. "I have carefully considered the implications of this newfound truth revealed to us. I understand the urgency and significance of the Valyrian Freehold's current priorities, particularly the imperative of migrating to Numenor." He took a deep breath before continuing, "but what about the Targaryen claim to the Iron Throne in Westeros? Are we to abandon those aspirations entirely?"
Aelora stepped forward, her voice was gentle yet firm. "Jon, we understand your concerns, and the Valyrian Freehold has not forgotten the Targaryens. However, we must exercise patience and strategic thinking in our approach. Our priority now is to ensure the survival of our people."
She continued with a hint of optimism in her words. "Rest assured, the Targaryen bloodline will not wither away. In fact, it will flourish within Valyria. Aegon, Rhaenys, and the other Targaryen children will be educated here, immersed in our culture and teachings. By preparing the Targaryen heirs, we are ensuring that when the time comes, they will be equipped with the knowledge and power to reclaim what is rightfully theirs."
Aelora's eyes gleamed with determination. "Jon, and if necessary, the Targaryens will have the full might of the Valyrian Freehold to reclaim the throne in Westeros."
Jon, being a skilled politician and sensing there was much more to uncover, inquired, "My lady Aelora, if I may, what is the ultimate goal of the Valyrian Freehold regarding Westeros?"
Aelora responded, "You are quite perceptive, Jon, and I am glad for that. Do not worry, the Valyrian Freehold is not interested in conquering Westeros. However, we do desire to see a Targaryen on the throne. You see, our long-term objective is to reclaim our ancient provinces in Essos, and having a friendly throne in Westeros would facilitate that."
Jon listened attentively, a sense of reassurance washing over him. He realized that the Valyrian Freehold was not abandoning the Targaryen claim to Westeros but instead taking a strategic approach to ensure their long-term success. The prospect of the Targaryen heirs being educated in Valyria, surrounded by the legacy of their ancestors and empowered by the wisdom of the Valyrian Freehold, filled him with a renewed sense of confidence.
Jon leaned forward, his eyes locked with Aelora's. "And what role do you envision for me in this monumental undertaking?" he asked, a mix of anticipation and concern evident in his voice.
Aelora smiled, her gaze unwavering. "Jon, you are a vital piece in this strategy regarding Westeros. You have already proven your value to us through your insights and loyalty. In my eyes, you continue to be the Hand of the King. We would be honored to have you join us as a trusted advisor, someone who understands the complexities of Westeros and can provide guidance in the face of unforeseen challenges. Your expertise and leadership will be invaluable."
Aelora noticed Elaena's approval and continued, "Additionally, Jon, I want you and the scholars who came with you to teach us the Westerosi language, familiarize us with the major customs, and instruct us in the proper etiquette when interacting with the lords and ladies of the great houses in Westeros."
Elaena also chimed in, "Lord Jon, your help is truly invaluable, and thanks to you, we now have information that will greatly aid me in my mission."
In the face of Jon Connington's curious gaze, Elaena continued, "There is one thing you are not yet aware of. For the past year, I have been preparing for an eventual journey to Westeros, which I will undertake in four years."
Elaena's nervousness became apparent to Jon Connington as she hesitated before revealing her true purpose. "I must go to the North and the Wall," she finally confessed.
Intrigued by Elaena's words, Jon asked, surprised, "My lady, may I inquire about the reason for your interest in visiting the Wall?"
Elaena replied, "When this great winter comes, all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, then..."
Jon Connington interrupted, addressing Elaena and Aelora with astonishment, "A Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king or queen strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark."
Taken aback, Elaena exclaimed, "H... How did you know these words, Lord Jon? I had this vision last year, and we have only known each other for a short time."
Equally astonished, Jon replied, "My lady, it appears that you and your niece Aenys are not the only ones within the Targaryen family with the gift of visions. Rhaegar Targaryen shared with me many insights into your family's history, including a prophecy he referred to as the 'A Song of Ice and Fire.' This prophecy was said to be a vision experienced by Aegon the Conqueror."
Elaena's eyes widened as she processed Jon's words, realizing the depth of their connection and the significance of her own visions aligning with the ancient prophecies.
Observing the exchange, Aelora spoke with calm reassurance, "Elaena, Jon, it seems that our meeting was not a mere coincidence. There is a greater purpose at play here."
Aelora and Elaena noticed Jon's fear and concern, understanding the weight of the revelations they had just shared. They awaited Jon's response, knowing that the unfolding events held significant implications for their future endeavors.
Jon Connington couldn't shake off the chill that ran down his spine as he learned about Elaena Targaryen's shared vision with Aegon from three hundred years ago. It was a prophecy he had once dismissed as mere folly, but now it carried the weight of horrors unseen in Westeros for thousands of years. The stories that were once regarded as mere folklore had suddenly become a tangible and impending threat, sending shivers down his spine.
"My lady Elaena," he said with a trembling voice, "I implore you to share with me the other visions you have had, please."
Elaena, who had absorbed some of Jon's unease, began reciting her visions. Jon listened intently, but one, in particular, sent shivers down his spine.
"To the west, in the land of the First Men, where a great ancient battle between the living and the dead decided the fates of man, you will find the dragon who refused the crown, the old bear of the North, and the brave scout wolf. Find them at the Wall, follow the path of the Lord of Light."
As Elaena finished, she noticed Jon looking at her with wide eyes and asked, "Lord Jon, any information you can provide us is of utmost importance."
Jon briefly glanced at Elaena and then turned his gaze to Aelora, saying, "My lady Aelora, you mentioned last night that today we would continue our conversation about the legends and myths in Westeros, with a particular emphasis on the Wall and what lies beyond it."
"Yes, that is correct, Jon. It is a topic I have been trying to gather information on for years," responded Aelora, noting that Jon's face had turned pale.
"My ladies," Jon began, "What I am about to tell you, until a brief moment ago, I would have narrated as simple stories shared among friends on a winter night in the North, told by a bard or as a grandmother recounting tales of terror to frightened children. But,"
Jon paused, noticing Aelora and Elaena leaning in closer, Elaena with a bottle of wine in hand, as they sat down to listen intently, "please take these stories as something real and that a potential enemy to all living beings in the world may be awakening after thousands of years buried beyond the Wall."
Aelora and Elaena exchanged intrigued glances, their eyes shining with anticipation. They knew that Jon's words carried ancient knowledge, and they were eager to hear the tale he was about to share. Leaning in closer, they prepared themselves for a journey into the depths of history.
Jon's voice took on a captivating tone as he began to recount the legends of the Long Night, an era shrouded in mystery and darkness. His words transported Aelora and Elaena thousands of years back when Westeros was a land consumed by endless winter.
"In the annals of our history," Jon began, his voice resonating with an air of mysticism, "there came a time known as the Long Night. It was an era when darkness descended upon the world, and a formidable enemy emerged from the farthest reaches of the north,"
Jon continued, his voice trembling. "They were the Others or white walkers, ancient beings with hearts as cold as ice and a relentless thirst for the warmth of life. These mysterious creatures possessed the power to reanimate the dead, turning them into wights, obedient to their command. Before long, their icy dominion extended across the continent, enveloping it in an eternal night."
He painted a vivid picture with his words, describing the bitter cold that choked Westeros and the growing darkness that seemed to swallow the sun itself. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy as if a spectral presence had joined their gathering.
"In the face of this existential threat," Jon continued, his voice filled with reverence for the heroes of the past, "the people of Westeros united under the leadership of legendary figures. They were heroes like Brandon, the founder of House Stark, also known as Brandon the Builder, who according to legend with the help of giants and the Children of the Forest, when the Long Night ended, led the construction of the Wall."
"A Stark built the Wall?" Aelora asked, her eyes shining.
"Yes my lady," Jon responded, and then he continued
The room seemed to grow colder as Jon continued his tale. Elaena imagined herself riding her dragon into battle in the far north, a place so different from Essos with its scorching sun. She sighed, captivated by the legend of the Long Night.
"Brave warriors fought valiantly against the Others and their minions," Jon declared, his voice resolute. "They wielded weapons forged with dragon glass, a substance believed to be lethal to the Others, and faced unimaginable dangers in their quest to protect the realms of men."
"Amidst the despair, the First Men and the Children of the Forest formed an alliance and stood united in defense," Jon narrated, his voice conveying a sense of awe. "Their ultimate clash, known as the Battle for the Dawn, marked the turning point of the Long Night. The others were defeated and driven back into the icy wastelands of the far north, where the land became forever known as the Lands of Always Winter."
"Regarding the Night's Watch," Jon continued, his voice steady and resolute, "originally, it was created to stand against the looming threat of the White Walkers. Its purpose was to guard the realms of men, serving as a stalwart and ever-watchful force to defend against their relentless onslaught. Bound by their solemn oath, the men of the Night's Watch dedicated their lives to the eternal vigilance required to protect the realm from this ancient enemy."
He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting between Aelora and Elaena, before continuing, "However, as time passed and the memory of the White Walkers faded into myth, the Night's Watch adapted to new circumstances. While their primary mission remains the defense against any potential threat emerging from the north, be it White Walkers or other adversaries, their duty now extends to safeguarding the realm from any danger that lurks beyond the Wall."
As Jon spoke, he couldn't help but notice Elaena Targaryen's intense concentration. Her eyes seemed to gleam with a newfound spark.
Jon ended with a solemn tone, "My ladies, as centuries passed, some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. With the arrival of the Andals, the memory of the Long Night and the White Walkers faded into myth. Today, most believe The Long Night to be nothing more than a children's tale."
"Excellent narration, Jon," Elaena said with a smile, though a hint of concern lingered on her face. "You have confirmed a suspicion we had about an age-old conflict between gods unfolding in Westeros, a suspicion we've had since last year due to Elaena's visions."
Aelora smiled at Jon and continued, "Jon and Elaena, let's focus on the immediate task of finding Viserys Targaryen, his sibling, and the child of Rhaenar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Our goal is to bring them safely to Valyria. We can discuss other matters and devise plans later." Pausing, she looked at Jon and asked, "Do you think Varys, with his network of spies, could locate them?
Jon considered the options and replied, "It's possible, but it might take over a year. The journey from Valyria to the Free Cities by ship alone would take around three months, and I would need to be in one of the Free Cities to oversee the operation."
Surprising both Aelora and Jon, Elaena interjected with excitement, "Lord Jon, would you like to travel on a dragon? The journey would only take a few hours. And I want to go with you."
Jon was momentarily stunned. "Travel on a dragon?" he repeated, disbelief in his voice.
Aelora, taken aback as well, chimed in, "Elaena, I understand your urgency to reunite your family quickly and ensure their safety in Valyria, but..."
Elaena's smile persisted as she interrupted, "Aelora, in four years, I plan to embark on a mission to Westeros that may take me years to complete. Before that, I need field experience, and although Westeros differs from Essos, I believe it will serve me well."
Aelora pondered Elaena's words and responded, "Elaena, I can't argue with your reasoning about gaining field experience in a different environment. However, what about your advanced magic classes? You can't simply leave them behind. You know we'll take care of Alysanne, Aegon, and Rhaenys, but I worry about your progress in advanced magic and sword training."
Elaena's smile widened as she replied, "Magic mirrors, Aelora. I've been taking advanced magic lessons through magic mirrors with my mentors." Noticing Aelora's questioning gaze, she continued, "It was their suggestion to conduct some sessions this way, and they believe we should continue doing so when I travel to Westeros in four years."
Impressed, Jon inquired, "Is that truly possible? To communicate in real time with someone who's not physically present?"
"Yes, Jon," Aelora confirmed, her gaze fixed on Elaena. "With blood magic, one can activate mirrors that serve as communication devices. However, they only work for individuals whose blood was used in the enchantment." Aelora turned to Elaena and added, "Just be cautious, Elaena. Try to maintain a low profile, and I recommend taking a month's time before setting off."
"My ladies," Jon interjected, "concerning Lady Elaena's sword training, although it may seem unusual for me, being from Westeros, to witness a woman wielding a sword, I am willing to assist her in preparation. I can teach her the Westerosi style of combat if she wishes."
Elaena's eyes lit up as she asked, "Would you do that for me, Lord Jon?"
"Of course, my lady," Jon replied with determination.
Aelora looked at Jon and Elaena, considering their proposal. After a brief moment of contemplation, she spoke with a calm and decisive tone,
"Very well, Jon and Elaena. We have a month to prepare for your journey to the Free Cities in search of the missing Targaryens."
Elaena nodded, her determination shining through her eyes. "I understand, Aelora."
Aelora smiled, acknowledging Elaena's commitment. "Good. Now, regarding your advanced magic classes, I will make arrangements to continue them through the magic mirrors. It is essential that you maintain your progress and continue honing your skills, even while on this journey."
Turning to Jon, Aelora addressed him directly, " Jon, I appreciate your willingness to assist Elaena in her sword training. Your guidance and expertise will undoubtedly prove valuable. Teach her the ways of Westerosi combat and ensure she is well-prepared for any challenges that may lie ahead."
Jon nodded in agreement. "I will do my best, my lady. Lady Elaena will be trained to defend herself and those she cares for."
Aelora stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. "Very well, the preparations shall begin immediately. Remember, time is of the essence, but we must also be thorough in our planning. We shall reconvene in a week to discuss the details and finalize our strategies. Until then, may the gods guide us on this journey."
Later That Night
Elaena Targaryen lay peacefully in her bed, immersed in deep slumber. However, as her mind delved into the realm of dreams, a strange sensation enveloped her. She knew that this was no ordinary dream, for she was fully aware of it. Everything felt real, tangible, but she also had the certainty that something was amiss.
She opened her imaginary eyes and found herself in an unfamiliar place. Before her stood a majestic castle, its walls made of black stone that seemed to whisper tales of bygone times. She ventured into the castle, marveling at the Valyrian architecture that surrounded her. However, there was something subtly different compared to the other Valyrian constructions she knew. An air of mystery permeated every corner.
As she explored the castle's corridors, an ethereal figure materialized before her. It was Daenys Targaryen, her niece. Elaena's heart filled with joy at the sight of her loved one, and she reached out her arms to embrace her. But as she did so, she realized that the figure was not corporeal—it was a shadow that transcended the physical world.
Daenys smiled at her, but sadness was reflected in her eyes. Then, in a barely audible whisper, she uttered a tender name that only Elaena knew.
"Ely, you must let him go," Daenys said with a soft voice laden with meaning. "He must continue his own path, a path of blood and suffering to be reborn, Ely."
Elaena shuddered upon hearing those enigmatic words. Her mind was filled with questions, but before she could articulate them, the spectral figure began to fade slowly. Daenys looked at her with sorrow one last time before vanishing completely, leaving Elaena in a state of confusion and contemplation.
She woke from her deep slumber, with the echo of Aerys' words resonating in her mind. What did it all mean? Who was the "he" Daenys referred to? And, above all, what path of blood and suffering must "he" follow to be reborn?
6 months later in Braavos, 285 AC
In the bustling city of Braavos, Ser Willem Darry paced restlessly within his humble abode. The weight of his responsibilities bore heavily on his mind as he recalled the cryptic message delivered to him by a mysterious stranger. It had promised the arrival of two loyal supporters of the Targaryen cause tonight, filling him with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.
As his thoughts raced, his gaze fixated on the young Viserys Targaryen, his silver locks shimmering under the flickering candlelight as he hungrily devoured his meal. Close by, a servant cradled the infant Daenerys, gently nursing her. Ser Willem couldn't help but marvel at the sight of these last remnants of the once-great House Targaryen, the rightful heirs to a lost legacy.
Meanwhile, amidst the labyrinthine streets and winding canals of Braavos, Jon Connington and Elaena Targaryen made their way towards a grand house distinguished by its imposing big red door. Furrowing her brows with uncertainty, Elaena glanced up at the formidable structure. "Are you certain, Jon, that this is the house?" she inquired, her voice filled with a blend of hope and trepidation. Jon's eyes gleamed with unwavering determination as he nodded firmly. "Yes, Elaena. This is where they reside," he assured her.
Back inside the house, Ser Willem's heart quickened as he heard a gentle knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, he approached cautiously and swung it open, his eyes widening in astonishment at the commanding presence of Lord Jon Connington standing alongside a figure cloaked in shadows. Ser Willem bowed humbly, his gaze searching for answers within the depths of the hooded stranger. As the stranger revealed herself, unveiling her striking Valyrian features, Ser Willem found himself awestruck.
"You must be Ser Willem," Elaena spoke softly, her voice tinged with familiarity. Ser Willem nodded, his eyes seeking affirmation in hers, and without hesitation, Elaena stepped forward, enfolding Ser Willem in a warm and tender embrace.
Tears welled up in her eyes, a mix of joy and relief, as Elaena surveyed the room, her gaze finally resting upon Viserys and the baby Daenerys. A radiant smile graced her lips as she whispered, "It is them. The ones we've been searching for."