Jon Snow/Aemon Targaryen (Year 92 A.C.)
Kingslandig - Lyanna's Starks Chambers
Three weeks after the birth of Aemon Targaryen formally known as Jon Snow.
The first three weeks had been both a blessing and a curse. He had a loving family, and a future to plant to make sure the one that happened wouldn't happen again. But he was still a babe, not able to do anything, but sleep, eat, pope, and piss himself, and dreams of his last death haunted him in sleep, making him wake up with a squeal of babe.
The moments were lessened by the comfort of his mother's arms. Lyanna Stark's countenance made him wonder if he resembled this woman in any way. Yet, in this iteration, she appeared older than the woman who had given birth to him in his previous life. In a vision the gods, granted him a few nights after his rebirth, was she like the mother he never truly knew?
After three weeks his mother spoke to him, uttering words that left him utterly shocked. "Oh, my little Aemon, my blessed child. Gifted by the old gods. I never thought I'd hold you again." Confusion overwhelmed him. 'What did she mean by 'again'? After all, she had just given birth to him.' The weight of his thoughts propelled him to cry out, prompting her to embrace him more tightly, a single tear streaming down her cheek. In seeing her cry, his crying ceased. He longed to convey his understanding, to let her know he felt it too, the love he felt for her. To tell her she was the same Aemon. But he couldn't do it now his infancy leaving him unable to.
"My precious Aemon, I would sacrifice everything for you," she professed, her eyes glistening with tears. "Lya, everything alright?" Baelon Targaryen's voice echoed, breaking the moment.
"Yes, just overwhelmed with our baby," she responded, a tearful smile gracing her face. What he observed in her eyes resonated as genuine happiness and love. Was this the same sentiment Robb, Arya, Rickon, Sansa, and Bran felt when their mother showered them with affection? The thought of Bran was bittersweet, yet he held onto the memory of the sweet, adventurous boy he once was. Not the monster who had taken over his body.
"Well, Lya, I echo the same sentiment. Little Aemon is truly remarkable," Baelon chimed in, gently taking him from his mother's arms. Even the purple eyes of this new man conveyed the love he held, reminiscent of the care Eddard Stark had shown him when circumstances allowed.
"Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like had you not attended the tourney?" Baelon inquired, his gaze fixed on Lyanna.
"I suppose I'd have returned to the North, perhaps marrying a northern noble as Stark customs dictate. It would've been the usual fate. Maybe I would've found contentment there," his mother contemplated.
"Yes, I, too, would have followed the path of following my brother as hand, and follow him, and would have done so gladly, if hadn't been slain, but now I'm the crown prince and will eventually become king. The other responsibilities would include caring for my sons, Viserys and Daemon, in addition to my siblings. Lya, I never imagined I'd find love again after Alyssa. However, the moment I saw you enter the feast with your father, it took my breath away," Baelon admitted, sharing a sentiment Jon could relate to—his own feelings upon first encountering Daenerys. She had captivated him from the start, and he had grown to love her for her actions. Yet, everything had unraveled the moment he journeyed to Winterfell, a memory that still left a bitter taste.
This memory, bitter and melancholic, contrasted with the genuine affection his mother felt for Baelon Targaryen. It offered a glimmer of hope, a possibility of finding love anew and building a family—a family he dreamed of, with children named in memory of those he had lost. A smile formed, and soon a giggle as he observed his parents' reactions to him.
"Oh, my dear Aemon, your laughter is a beautiful sight," Lyanna remarked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with both mirth and tears. "Indeed, just as beautiful as his mother," Baelon added, sealing the sentiment with a kiss. Though the awkwardness lingered for Jon, he realized the small price was worth the sight of his true mother's happiness. With contentment settling in his infant body, Jon yawned, surrendering to sleep's embrace.
In these three weeks, he discovered his aversion towards his brother Daemon, the thirteen-year-old whose hurtful words stung. "Ah, my half-breed brother. Your mother seduced my father. Even your eyes are wrong," Daemon had taunted, peering into his eyes from above his crib. Daemon had come again.
His discomfort was interrupted by his oldest brother, Viserys. Jon held a fondness for him, despite the historical accounts that portrayed him less favorably. Regardless, Viserys showed kindness, and his efforts in maintaining the realm's peace after Jaehaerys I were commendable. Yet, he had permitted the Targaryen civil war to unfold—the Dance of Dragons—a decision he considered unwise and unnecessary.
"Ah, there you are, brother. I've been searching for you. I wanted to share the good news. Aemma is with child, and you'll soon be an uncle," Viserys declared, warmly embracing Daemon. The he turned to him, "Yes, you too, little Aemon," he added, playfully tickling Jon's belly. Despite his resistance, he couldn't help but giggle, a childish impulse overwhelming him.
"Enjoying that, Aemon?" Viserys inquired with a smile. Daemon huffed, clearly unimpressed. "That child will only be half of us, brother, never a true dragon."
Viserys countered, "Well, you may have noticed, but Baelrion recently took flight after years. As you and I know, I attempted to bond with him. Yet, it wasn't meant to be. Now I'm content with Goynogar." A genuine smile graced his lips. The mention of Baelrion puzzled Jon—had Balerion hadn't boned with them somehow? He wasn't sure why, as Balerion rarely flowed after his return only flying again after Viserys had mounted him, and dying 94 AC. His knowledge of a dragon was limited to what he had experienced in his own time.
"Are you implying that a 'half-breed' will tame the Black Dread?" mocked Daemon, a hint of disdain in his voice. Jon's thoughts were drawn to his own experience with dragons. He had briefly formed a connection with Rhaegal, sensing the bond, yet it had been short-lived. He had felt Rhaegal's pain as the dragon succumbed to a scorpion bolt. The Ironborn fanatics waiting in hiding on the cliffs of Dragonstone. The wounds on Rhaegal were still not yet healed unable, to withstand a scorpion bolt shot to the chest, tearing through its insides.
"Well, brother, time will reveal the truth. We'll see in six years or more, Daemon. And remember, Aemma is family, just as you are. She's part Arryn, so keep that in mind. Let's never speak of 'half-breeds' again," Viserys asserted with authority, a tone that surprised even him.
"Very well, brother. I apologize for insulting your wife. At least she looks like a true Valyrian," Daemon conceded, a smirk on his lips as he exited the room.
"Apologies, little dragon. Our brother can be a bit irritable. Nevertheless, I love you all the same, a blessing after Uncle Aemon's passing. Rhaenys even was honored father called after hers. You know she also has a baby growing as well, and soon we have a great cousin. " Viserys confided, picking Jon up and planting a kiss on his head. 'Viserys was a good man if not the best king, but was a brother he was gradually growing fond of. His words of Rhaenys made him sad, he wondered if this time she might be the Queen. He hoped not as his father had to die again. He would try and chance as much as he could to protect his loved ones, and the world against the darkness to come.' He thought as smiled at his brother and placed a hand on his cheek.
"Soon hopefully you won't sleep alone." With a promise of a future sleeping companion, Viserys returned him to his crib. Leaving to sleep one's again.
Notes : Goynogar is sheepsealer, it is the name Viserys gave him. Sheepsaeler is brown so Goynogar rufly translates to Earth Dragon.
Also, Aemon Targaryen's Son Jaehaerys dies a moon before Aemon's birth. Laena is born four moons after Aemon's birth.