Forged in Fire: A Targaryen's Redemption- Aerys SI

by Mtle232

When William Thompson dies saving his girlfriend in NYC, his story doesn't end - it begins anew as he's reborn as Aerys Targaryen. Armed with the knowledge of a dark future and born into a dynasty on the brink, William must navigate his new life as a Targaryen prince while trying to prevent the realm's descent into madness.

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Dreams and Duties

---

255 AC, Red Keep

The clash of wooden swords echoed through the training yard as dawn's first light painted the castle walls in shades of gold. I adjusted my stance, watching Tywin circle with the measured precision that had become his trademark. At thirteen, he'd grown even more controlled in his movements, each strike calculated for maximum effect.

"Mind your left side," Ser Duncan called from where he observed our morning session. "You're still favoring it slightly after yesterday's bout."

I shifted my weight, grateful for the reminder. My ribs still ached where Steffon had landed a particularly solid hit the day before. Before I could fully adjust, Tywin struck – a quick series of attacks that forced me to give ground.

"Well struck!" Ser Duncan approved as I barely managed to parry the last blow. "Though remember what we discussed about conservation of energy, Tywin. Not every attack needs to be a killing stroke."

A sudden war cry from behind was my only warning before something small and determined collided with my legs. I stumbled, barely keeping my balance as Baelon, all of five years old and armed with a stick that was practically bigger than he was, launched his "surprise attack."

"Got you!" he declared triumphantly, whacking my knee with enthusiasm if not accuracy. "The dragon strikes!"

"Baelon!" Ser Duncan's voice held equal parts exasperation and amusement. "What have we said about interrupting training sessions?"

"But I'm training too!" my little brother protested, taking another swing that I had to hop to avoid. "Aeys said I could!"

"I said you could watch," I corrected, trying to keep the laughter from my voice as I fended off both Tywin's controlled attacks and Baelon's enthusiastic flailing. "And maybe practice basic forms after we finished."

"This is basic!" Baelon insisted, managing to land another hit on my calf. "The basics of surprise!"

From the sidelines, I heard Steffon's booming laugh. "He's got you there, Aerys! Never saw it coming, did you?"

"That's because he fights with honor," Aemon observed quietly from where he sat next to his cousin, a book balanced on his knees despite the early hour. "Unlike some people."

"Honor is earned through victory," Baelon declared with all the gravity a five-year-old could muster, clearly quoting something he'd heard but hadn't quite understood. The effect was somewhat ruined by him nearly tripping over his own stick.

"Alright, little dragon," I finally conceded, sheathing my practice sword. "You've thoroughly defeated me. Though perhaps we should work on your footwork before you challenge anyone else?"

Baelon's face lit up. He'd been following me around even more than usual lately, ever since he'd overheard some lords comparing us to Aemon and Baelon the Brave, the sons and pride of Jaehaerys the Wise, the heir and spare of another Jaehaerys we were, quite fitting monikers, the lords and smallfolk thought as we were already known as precisely that. The fact that his namesake had been one of our house's greatest warriors only fueled his determination to train constantly.

"Can we do the sword dance?" he asked eagerly. "The one with the spinning?"

"That's not a real move," Tywin pointed out, though his usual sharp tone softened slightly when addressing my little brother. Even he wasn't immune to Baelon's earnest enthusiasm.

"Not yet!" Baelon shot back. "But when I make it one, you'll all want to learn it!"

"How about we start with proper stance?" I suggested, kneeling to adjust his grip on the stick. "Even dragon warriors need to master the basics first."

As I helped Baelon with his form, I caught sight of Grandfather crossing the yard with several council members in tow. The morning sun caught his crown, making it flash like dragonfire. His expression was carefully neutral, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. Today was the day we'd present our proposals to the full council.

"Prince Aerys," Lord Butterwell's voice carried across the yard. "If you're quite finished playing nursemaid, the council awaits."

I felt Tywin stiffen at the lord's tone, but I squeezed his arm slightly. We'd discussed this – letting them underestimate me would only make victory sweeter.

"Of course, my lord," I replied cheerfully, ruffling Baelon's hair. "Although I wouldn't call teaching the future of House Targaryen 'playing.' Would you?"

Grandfather's lips twitched slightly as Lord Butterwell's face reddened. "The boy has a point," he noted mildly. "Come, Aerys. Let's see if your other lessons have been equally well-learned."

I followed them toward the council chamber, but not before catching Baelon's determined declaration: "I'm going to practice until I'm as good as Aeys! Then I'll help him fight all the bad lords!"

The council chamber was already full when we arrived. Father sat in his usual place, his breathing slightly labored but steady. Uncle Duncan lounged in his chair with deceptive casualness, while the other lords arranged themselves with varying degrees of pomposity.

"Your Grace," Lord Merryweather began as soon as we were seated, "surely you don't mean to seriously consider these... children's drawings as actual proposals?"

"And why not?" Grandfather's voice was deceptively mild. "Tell me, my lord, what specifically do you object to in these plans?"

I spread out the detailed drawings and proposals we'd spent weeks refining. Each page showed careful calculations, projected costs and benefits, and most importantly, ways that both nobles and smallfolk would profit from the improvements.

"The cost alone—" Lord Merryweather began, but I was ready.

"Would be offset within three years," I interrupted politely but firmly. "If you'll look at the projections on page four, my lord. Improved sewers mean fewer diseases, which means more workers healthy enough to labor. Better roads mean faster trade. And the granaries?" I smiled, remembering countless similar arguments from my previous life. "Well, I'm sure you've noticed how grain prices spike during winter. Having reliable storage would stabilize those prices, benefiting both buyers and sellers."

"The boy speaks sense," Uncle Duncan noted, clearly fighting a smile. "Though perhaps Lord Merryweather would prefer we continue paying for fever outbreaks and winter famines?"

"It's not about the gold," Lord Butterwell cut in. "It's about precedent! These changes would upset the natural order—"

"The natural order?" I asked innocently. "You mean the order where children die of preventable fevers? Where winter brings starvation instead of just hardship? That order, my lord?"

The chamber grew very quiet. I could feel Father's concerned gaze, but I pressed on: "Or perhaps you mean the order where lords profit from their people's suffering? Because I've studied the ledgers, my lord. Quite fascinating how grain prices triple during shortages, isn't it? Almost as if someone benefits from there not being enough storage..."

Lord Butterwell's face went from red to purple. "How dare you imply—"

"I imply nothing," I said calmly. "I merely point out facts. But if you'd prefer, we could discuss instead how much gold the crown spends dealing with disease outbreaks every summer? Or perhaps calculate the lost tax revenue from preventable deaths?"

"Enough," Grandfather's voice cut through the rising tension. "My grandson makes valid points, however... directly he chooses to express them." His eyes twinkled slightly at me. "These proposals would benefit everyone, lords and smallfolk alike. The only question is whether we have the wisdom to see beyond our immediate concerns to the greater good."

"And if we refuse?" Lord Merryweather asked, though with less certainty now.

I exchanged a quick glance with Grandfather before answering: "Then I suppose we'll have to explain to the smallfolk why their lords prefer profit over their lives. I'm sure they'll understand perfectly."

The threat wasn't subtle, but it didn't need to be. Every lord in that room remembered the Dance of Dragons, remembered how quickly the smallfolk could turn when they felt betrayed by their rulers. Rhaenyra and little strong Joffrey learned that lesson the hard way.

"Perhaps," Father suggested diplomatically, "we could begin with the least controversial proposals? The sewers, for instance, benefit everyone equally..."

The discussion continued for hours, but I could see the tide turning. One by one, the lords began engaging with the actual proposals rather than just objecting on principle. By midday, we had preliminary approval for the first phase of improvements.

As we left the chamber, Grandfather squeezed my shoulder. "Well played," he murmured. "Though perhaps next time we could avoid quite so many pointed references to grain price manipulation?"

I grinned. "Would you believe I was actually being diplomatic?"

His laugh echoed down the corridor. "Gods help us all when you decide not to be."

When I returned to the training yard, Baelon was still there, now being patiently coached by Ser Duncan while Tywin and Steffon practiced nearby. My little brother's face lit up when he saw me.

"Did you win?" he asked eagerly. "Did you fight the bad lords?"

I knelt down to his level, smiling at his earnest concern. "Sometimes the best victories don't come from fighting," I told him. "Sometimes they come from showing people a better way."

He considered this with all the gravity a five-year-old could muster. "But if they don't listen to the better way, then can we fight them?"

Behind me, I heard Tywin snort. "He's definitely your brother," he observed dryly.

"More than you know," I replied, watching Baelon return to his practice with renewed determination. "More than you know."

---

Rhaella Pov

"No, no, Alyssa – keep your back straight but your shoulders relaxed," I corrected gently, adjusting my little sister's posture. "Like you're about to mount a horse, but more... graceful."

Alyssa's face scrunched in concentration as she tried to follow my instructions. At five, she was already showing the determined focus that characterized our family, though she typically preferred directing it toward riding and climbing rather than ladylike pursuits.

"Like this?" she asked, marching across the solar with exaggerated precision that made her look more like a toy soldier than a princess.

"Almost," I bit back a smile. "Though perhaps with a bit less... military bearing?"

"But Rhaella," she protested, dropping the stance entirely, "why can't I just walk normally? Septa Myranda says a lady should be natural and graceful."

"And you're naturally graceful when you ride," I pointed out, remembering my own struggles with these lessons at her age. "Just think of it like that – finding your balance, moving with purpose but without tension."

Alyssa considered this, her violet eyes thoughtful. "Like how you need to be firm but gentle with the reins?"

"Exactly!" I smiled, pleased she'd made the connection. "Being a lady isn't so different from being a rider. It's about control and grace, about—"

A knock at the door interrupted us. One of the servants entered with a letter sealed with the Lannister lion. My heart lifted – I'd been waiting for Genna's response for over a week.

"Can I see?" Alyssa asked eagerly. She adored getting letters almost as much as she loved hearing about my friends. "Is it from Lady Genna? Mother says she's really smart, like you!"

"Let me read it first," I said, already breaking the seal. "Then I'll tell you all about it."

Alyssa nodded, though she peered over my arm as I unfolded the parchment, trying to decipher the words upside down. Her dedication to improving her reading would have impressed our Septa if she showed half as much enthusiasm for her other lessons.

Dearest Rhaella,

I hope this finds you well. Things at the Rock have been... interesting, to put it mildly. Mother has given birth to another son – Gerion, they've named him. He's healthy and strong, though Mother... well, the maesters say she shouldn't have any more children. The birth was difficult.

Father didn't handle it well. He spent the entire time pacing, crying and drinking, acting more child than lord. Kevan tried to calm him, but you know how Father gets when he's upset. He's been eating and drinking more than ever since then, though at least he's stopped crying every time he sees Mother in bed.

The maesters say she'll recover, but she'll need time. Lots of time. Meanwhile, Father drowns his fears in beer, cheese and sweet cakes, and the lords who come to "pay their respects" leave with more of our gold in their pockets. Tywin would be furious if he were here – though I suppose he already is, given recent events.

Speaking of which... I don't know if you've heard about my "betrothal." To Emmon Frey. Second son of Walder Frey. Not even his heir, Rhaella! A second son, as if House Lannister were some minor house desperate for any alliance. Father says the Freys are "our friends" and that "young Emmon is a good boy." He's a lackwit who can barely string two words together, and his father is... well, you know what they say about Lord Frey.

Mother tried to object, but she was still too weak from the birth to argue properly. And Father just laughs and says it will all work out, that "friendship is worth more than pride." As if the Freys know anything about either friendship or pride!

I miss you terribly. Sometimes I wish I could come to King's Landing like Tywin. At least in there people understand what honor means. Give my love to Aerys and the little ones – how are their lessons going? Still refusing to wear proper shoes, or has Septa Myranda finally won that battle?

Your friend always,

Genna

My heart ached as I read. Poor Genna – to be bartered away so cheaply, and to the Freys of all people. And Lady Jeyne... I remembered her from her last visit to court, so graceful and kind. The thought of her suffering through such a difficult birth made my chest tight.

"Is everything alright?" Alyssa asked, noticing my expression. "You look sad."

I managed a smile for my sister. "Just worried about my friend. Her mother has been ill, but she's getting better now."

Alyssa's face grew serious. "Like when Mother was sick after having me and Baelon?"

"Similar," I nodded, remembering those anxious days. "But Lady Jeyne will be fine, just like Mother was. She just needs rest and time to recover."

"And Lady Genna?" Alyssa pressed. "Is she sad about her mother too?"

I hesitated, wondering how to explain the complexities of betrothals and family obligations to a five-year-old. "She's... having to make some difficult changes," I said finally. "Sometimes being a lady means doing things we don't want to do."

"Like wearing shoes?" Alyssa asked, glancing guiltily at her own bare feet.

Despite my worry, I had to laugh. "Yes, sometimes like wearing shoes. Speaking of which..."

She sighed dramatically but went to fetch her slippers. "Mother says a princess should always be properly dressed," she recited, though she couldn't quite hide her smile. "Even if shoes are silly and make it harder to climb."

"And what does Septa Myranda say about climbing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That it's unladylike and dangerous," Alyssa replied promptly. Then, with a mischievous grin that reminded me startlingly of Aerys, added: "But Mother used to climb the Iron Throne looking for dragon eggs, and she's the most ladylike person I know!"

"That's... not quite the same thing," I tried to say sternly, though I couldn't help smiling. "And how did you hear about that?"

"Father told us! He says Mother was always getting into trouble when she was little, but she grew up to be a perfect lady anyway." Alyssa's face grew thoughtful. "So maybe I can be both? A lady who can climb and ride and still do all the proper things?"

Looking at my little sister – her hair a mess despite our earlier attempts at proper styling, her face earnest as she struggled to put on her slippers while maintaining the posture I'd taught her – I felt a surge of protective love.

"Of course you can," I assured her. "Being a lady isn't about giving up who you are. It's about learning when to climb trees and when to curtsy."

"Like how you're teaching me?" she asked hopefully.

"Exactly like that." I smoothed her hair, trying once again to tame the moonlight strands that seemed to have a mind of their own. "Now, shall we try that walk again? Remember – like you're approaching your favorite horse, calm and confident."

As Alyssa began her practice, I found myself thinking of Genna's letter again. My friend was the same age as me, but her father was trying to force her into a marriage far beneath her station. Meanwhile, my parents had married for love, had encouraged all of us to be ourselves while learning our duties...

"Rhaella?" Alyssa's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Was that better?"

I watched her cross the room again, noting how she managed to combine her natural energy with at least an attempt at grace. "Much better! You're finding your balance beautifully."

She beamed at the praise, then asked suddenly: "Can we practice riding later? I promise to wear shoes and everything!"

"If you finish your lessons with Septa Myranda first," I agreed. "And if you actually keep the shoes on this time."

"I will!" she declared. "I want to make you and Mother proud. And maybe..." she hesitated, then added in a rush: "Maybe someday I can be as good a lady as you are."

My throat tightened unexpectedly. "Oh, sweetling," I pulled her into a hug, not caring that it completely ruined her carefully practiced posture. "You'll be an even better lady than I am. Because you'll be yourself – brave and strong and proper all at once."

She hugged me back fiercely, then pulled away with renewed determination. "Can we practice curtsies now? The fancy ones for formal occasions?"

As I began demonstrating the proper form, I could see her watching intently, mimicking each movement with careful precision. She might prefer riding clothes to dresses, but when she set her mind to something...

"Like this?" she asked, executing a surprisingly graceful curtsy.

"Perfect!" I praised. "You see? You can do anything when you try."

She straightened, grinning proudly. "Septa Myranda says I'm impossible, but Mother says I'm just determined."

"Mother's right," I assured her. "Though perhaps we could work on being a bit less impossible for Septa Myranda? The poor woman already has enough gray hairs from Baelon's adventures."

Alyssa giggled. "He tried to climb the dragon skulls again yesterday. Said he was looking for secret passages like in your stories."

"And did he find any?" I asked, amused despite myself.

"No, but he did find Aerys' old hiding spot behind Balerion's teeth. He was so excited until Aerys told him he'd known about it for years." She demonstrated another curtsy, adding: "Baelon says he's going to find a spot that even Aerys doesn't know about."

"I'm sure he will," I said dryly, remembering my own explorations of the Red Keep. Though none of us had quite matched Aerys' knack for finding hidden places. Sometimes it seemed like my brother knew every secret the castle held...

A servant appeared at the door. "Princess Rhaella? The Princess of Dragonstone requests your presence in her solar."

I nodded, then turned to Alyssa. "Keep practicing those curtsies. And remember..."

"Shoes stay on," she finished with a long-suffering sigh. "Even though cats don't wear shoes and they're the most graceful creatures ever."

"Cats also don't have to attend court functions," I pointed out, kissing the top of her head. "Be good for Septa Myranda."

"I will," she promised. Then, just as I reached the door: "Rhaella? Do you think your friend Lady Genna will be alright?"

I paused, thinking of Genna's letter, of all the changes happening at Casterly Rock. "I hope so, sweetling. Sometimes life gives us challenges we don't expect. But Genna is strong, like her mother."

"Like you?" Alyssa asked.

"Like all ladies have to be," I replied. "Now practice those curtsies. And remember – graceful like a cat, but with shoes!"

Her laughter followed me into the corridor, but my thoughts turned serious again as I made my way to Mother's solar. I needed to tell her about Lady Jeyne's condition, about Genna's situation. Perhaps there was something we could do...

The sound of voices made me pause outside Mother's door. I recognized Father's labored breathing, and Aerys' measured tones that always made him sound older than his years.

"...could help both houses," my brother was saying. "Save face for everyone involved..."

"It's an interesting proposal," Mother replied thoughtfully. "Though convincing Tytos..."

I knocked, not wanting to eavesdrop further. The conversation stopped, and Mother called for me to enter.

The solar was warm with afternoon sunlight, making Mother's silver-gold hair shine like a crown. Father sat in his favorite chair by the window, while Aerys stood near the desk, several papers spread out before him.

"Rhaella," Mother smiled. "Perfect timing. We were just discussing the situation at Casterly Rock."

"I've had a letter from Genna," I said, moving to join them. "Lady Jeyne has given birth to another son, but..."

As I shared the contents of the letter, I watched their reactions. Mother's face grew concerned at the news of Jeyne's difficult birth, while Father's breathing hitched slightly at the description of Tytos' behavior. But it was Aerys' expression that caught my attention – that familiar look he got when he was planning something.

"Poor Jeyne," Mother said softly when I finished. "To go through such an ordeal... and then to have Tytos reacting so..."

"The man means well," Father sighed. "But his good heart often leads him to unwise decisions."

"Like betrothing his only daughter to a second son of House Frey?" I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice. "Genna deserves better than that."

"Perhaps," Aerys said carefully, "we could help arrange something better."

I looked at my brother sharply. There was something in his tone... "What are you planning?"

He shared a quick glance with our parents before answering: "What if we could offer an alternative? A better match, one that would let both houses save face?"

"You have someone in mind?" I asked, though I could see from Mother's expression that they'd already discussed this.

"Cousin Aemon," Aerys replied. "He's of an age with Genna, and as Uncle Duncan's son..."

I considered it. Aemon was kind and clever, if somewhat dreamy like his mother. And as the son of a prince... "It would certainly be a more suitable match than Emmon Frey," I said slowly. "But would Uncle Duncan agree?"

"He and Jenny have already expressed interest," Mother confirmed. "Though convincing Lord Tytos to break the betrothal..."

"Leave that to me," Aerys said with quiet confidence. "I think I know how to approach it."

Looking at my brother in that moment, I was struck again by how different he seemed lately. There was a certainty to him, a sense of purpose that went beyond his years. Whatever he was planning, I had a feeling it would work.

"I'll write to Genna," I offered. "Not about this specifically, but... to give her hope. Let her know she has friends here."

Mother smiled approvingly. "Good. She'll need that support, whatever happens." She turned to Aerys. "Now, about these other proposals..."

I recognized my cue to leave. But as I walked back to check on Alyssa, I felt lighter somehow. Perhaps we could help make things better, not just for Genna but for all of them.

I found my little sister still practicing her curtsies, though she'd somehow managed to lose one slipper in the process.

"Rhaella!" she called excitedly. "Look what I figured out! If you twist just right, you can curtsy and spin at the same time!"

Watching her demonstrate her new technique, nearly falling over in her enthusiasm but never losing her determined smile, I had to laugh. Yes, she would find her own way to be a lady – just as we all had to find our own paths.

"Very creative," I praised. "Though perhaps we should master the traditional curtsy before adding spins?"

She nodded seriously, then asked: "Can we practice riding now? I promise to wear both shoes!"

"Both shoes would be a good start," I agreed, helping her find the missing slipper. "And yes, we can practice riding. After all, a lady should be accomplished in all areas, shouldn't she?"

"Like you!" she beamed, finally properly shod. "And Mother, and Lady Genna, and..."

As she chattered on, I thought again of Genna's letter, of Aerys' plans, of all the changes coming. Being a lady meant facing challenges with grace, whether they came in the form of difficult births or unwanted betrothals or simply learning to keep one's shoes on.

But it also meant supporting each other, finding ways to make things better. And sometimes, like Alyssa's spinning curtsy, finding new ways to do old things.

"Come on then," I said, taking her hand. "Let's show everyone how a princess rides."

---

The walk to Uncle Duncan's solar felt longer than usual. Tywin strode beside me, his usual measured pace betraying hints of tension only someone who knew him well would notice. We'd spent the morning discussing my idea, and while he'd maintained his characteristic composure, I'd caught flashes of something almost like hope in his eyes.

"Are you certain about this?" he asked quietly as we climbed the tower stairs. "Your uncle's son... it's a significant offer."

"Aemon is more than just my uncle's son," I replied, pausing to let a servant pass. "He's a good person, Tywin. Kind, intelligent, and most importantly..." I smiled slightly, "he actually likes Genna for herself, not just her name or her future inheritance."

Tywin's steps faltered slightly. "He's spoken of her?"

"More than he probably realizes," I said, remembering several conversations where my cousin had asked after Genna's well-being, his interest poorly disguised as casual inquiry. "And unlike certain others, he actually bothered to learn about her interests, her thoughts on things beyond simple courtesies."

"Unlike Emmon Frey," Tywin's voice held carefully controlled disdain. "Who can barely string two words together in her presence."

We reached Uncle Duncan's door, where the guards nodded respectfully before announcing us. The solar was warm with afternoon light, made warmer still by the tapestries Jenny had hung everywhere – scenes from the Riverlands, woven in rich greens and golds that made the space feel more like a forest grove than a castle chamber.

Uncle Duncan sat near the window, going over what looked like patrol reports. Aunt Jenny was in her favorite chair, working on yet another tapestry while humming softly to herself. They both looked up as we entered, and I caught the quick glance they exchanged – they'd been expecting this visit.

"Nephew," Uncle Duncan smiled, setting aside his papers. "And young Tywin. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

I took a deep breath, suddenly grateful for all those lessons in diplomacy. "Uncle, Aunt Jenny... we've come to discuss a matter of some delicacy. One that concerns both our houses."

Jenny's hands stilled on her weaving, her dreamy expression sharpening with interest. Despite what some at court thought of her, my aunt's apparent otherworldliness often hid a keen mind.

"This would be about young Genna's betrothal, I take it?" she asked softly, her eyes finding Tywin's. "The woods whisper of lions trapped in towers not their own."

Tywin stiffened slightly at the reference to his sister, but I touched his arm lightly. We'd discussed this – Jenny's way of speaking might seem strange, but there was usually wisdom in it if you listened carefully.

"Yes," I confirmed. "We... that is, I have a proposal that might benefit everyone involved."

"Including the Freys?" Uncle Duncan asked mildly, though I caught the slight edge in his tone. He'd made his feelings about Walder Frey clear enough over the years.

"Especially the Freys," I said carefully. "Since it would give them a way to save face while releasing Genna from a match that..." I glanced at Tywin, who gave me a slight nod to continue, "that does not serve anyone's best interests."

"And what match would you propose instead?" Jenny asked, though her slight smile suggested she already knew.

I met Uncle Duncan's gaze directly. "Aemon," I said simply. "He's of an age with Genna, they're already friends, and the match would honor both houses while allowing Lord Tytos to maintain his dignity."

A loaded silence fell. I could feel Tywin practically vibrating with tension beside me, though he maintained his perfect composure.

"Aemon?" Duncan repeated thoughtfully. "And what does my son think of this idea?"

"He hasn't said anything directly," I admitted. "But I've seen how he looks at her, how he asks after her. And Genna..." I glanced at Tywin again, who nodded slightly.

"My sister speaks of him often in her letters," Tywin said quietly. "She trusts him. Respects him."

"More than that," I added. "They understand each other. Aemon sees past her house's current... difficulties, and Genna appreciates his gentler nature."

Jenny set aside her weaving entirely, her eyes taking on that distant look that usually preceded her most insightful comments. "The ghost of a lion and the dream of a dragon," she murmured. "Yes, I can see how they might fit."

Duncan leaned forward, his expression serious. "It's not a bad match," he acknowledged. "Politically or personally. But breaking a betrothal, even one as..." he paused diplomatically, "as questionable as this one, it's not without risks."

"The risk is in letting it stand," I countered. "Uncle, you've seen how the other lords already whisper about House Lannister. This marriage would only weaken them further, make them seem desperate. But a match with your son? That shows strength, shows that House Lannister still commands respect from the highest houses."

"And the Freys?" Duncan pressed. "Walder won't take this lying down."

"Let me worry about Lord Frey," I said with more confidence than I felt. "There are ways to handle this that will let him save face while profiting more than he would from the marriage."

Tywin's eyebrows rose slightly at this – we hadn't discussed that part of my plan yet. But he trusted me enough to stay silent, waiting to hear more.

Jenny rose suddenly, moving to stand before Tywin. Despite being a commoner, there was something almost regal in her bearing as she studied him. "You love your sister," she said softly. "Not just as a Lannister, but as Genna."

It wasn't a question, but Tywin answered anyway: "She's my blood. My responsibility."

"No," Jenny corrected gently. "She's your heart. That's why you're here, why you trust my nephew to help. Because you see in him what I see – someone who understands that power means nothing without love to guide it."

I felt my face heat slightly at her words, but Tywin's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Aerys is my best friend," he said simply. "The first person besides Genna who saw me as more than just the Laughing Lion's son."

"And you're my best friend too" I added quietly. "Which means your family is my family. Your sister's happiness matters to me because it matters to you."

Duncan watched this exchange with keen interest. "You've thought this through carefully," he observed. "Both the political implications and the personal ones."

"I have," I confirmed. "Uncle, you know what the Freys are. You know what this marriage would mean for Genna, for House Lannister's standing. Aemon is worth ten Emmon Freys, and more importantly, he would treat Genna with the respect she deserves."

"And what of my son's happiness?" Duncan asked, though I could tell he was more testing my reasoning than truly objecting. "Have you considered that?"

"I have," I met his gaze steadily. "Aemon needs someone who understands him, who sees beyond his dreamy nature to the wisdom beneath. Genna does that. She makes him laugh, draws him out of his books and into the world. And he gives her something just as valuable – acceptance without judgment, appreciation for who she is rather than what her house has become."

Jenny's smile widened. "The wolf dreams of spring while the lion dreams of honor," she said cryptically. "Yes, I can see how they might balance each other."

Duncan shot his wife a fond look before turning back to us. "And you believe you can convince Lord Tytos to break the betrothal without causing offense?"

"With your support, yes," I said firmly. "Lord Tytos values friendship above all else – that's what got him into this situation in the first place. But if we can show him a better path, one that lets him maintain those friendships while still protecting his house's dignity..."

"You sound very sure of yourself, nephew."

"I'm sure of what's right," I replied. "And this is right, Uncle. Not just politically, but personally. Aemon and Genna deserve a chance at happiness, not just duty."

Something flickered in Duncan's eyes at that – perhaps remembering his own choice to marry for love rather than duty. "Jenny?" he asked softly. "What do you think?"

My aunt had returned to her weaving, but her hands moved with purpose now, adding what looked like a lion and dragon intertwined in golden thread. "The old gods smile on unions built on understanding," she said. "And the children that come from such matches tend to have old souls in young bodies." Her eyes met mine briefly, and I felt a shiver go down my spine at her knowing look.

Duncan nodded slowly. "Very well," he said finally. "You have our support in this. Though convincing Lord Tytos..."

"Leave that to me," I assured him. "With your permission, I'd like to write to him first, prepare the ground before making any formal proposals."

"A wise approach," Duncan approved. "And Aemon?"

"Perhaps," I suggested carefully, "you could sound him out? See how he might feel about such a match, without making anything official yet?"

Jenny's soft laugh was like wind through leaves. "Oh, I think we already know how he feels. The way he blushes whenever Genna's name is mentioned..."

"Mother!" Aemon's voice from the doorway made us all turn. He stood there with an armful of books, his face already reddening as he realized what he'd walked into. "I... what are you all discussing?"

I caught Tywin's slight smirk and had to fight back one of my own. "Nothing important, cousin," I said smoothly. "Just some possible changes at Casterly Rock. Though since you're here, perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts on House Lannister?"

Aemon's blush deepened. "I... that is... I should really return these books to the maester..."

"Stay," Jenny patted the chair beside her. "We were just talking about your future."

"Mother!" Aemon protested again, though he moved into the room anyway, carefully setting his books aside. "I'm sure whatever Aerys and Lord Tywin are discussing doesn't concern me..."

"Actually," Duncan cut in, his eyes twinkling, "it concerns you quite directly. How would you feel about spending more time at Casterly Rock?"

I watched my cousin's face carefully, noting how his eyes widened slightly before he caught himself. "The Rock? I... why would I..."

"Because," I said gently, "we're considering the possibility of a match between you and Lady Genna."

The silence that followed was profound. Aemon's face went through a remarkable series of expressions – shock, hope, uncertainty, and finally something close to wonder.

"Genna?" he whispered. "But... I thought she was betrothed to Emmon Frey?"

"Nothing is settled yet," I cautioned. "But if you were interested..."

"Yes!" Aemon blurted out, then immediately looked mortified at his own enthusiasm. "That is... if it would serve both houses... and if Lady Genna were amenable..."

I caught Tywin's slight nod of approval. My friend had been watching Aemon's reaction carefully, and apparently, my cousin's genuine enthusiasm had passed whatever test Tywin had set.

"Well," Duncan said dryly, "I think that answers that question rather definitively."

Jenny reached out to squeeze her son's hand. "The heart knows its own path," she said softly. "Even when the mind tries to hide it."

Aemon's blush hadn't quite faded, but he managed to meet Tywin's eyes. "I would never presume... that is, I know your house has had some difficulties lately, but I've always thought... Genna is..."

"Remarkable," Tywin finished for him, his tone softer than I usually heard it. "Yes, she is. And she deserves someone who sees that."

The look that passed between them held volumes – Tywin's protective instincts warring with his recognition of Aemon's genuine feelings, Aemon's respect for Tywin's position as Genna's brother balanced against his obvious care for her.

"Well then," I said, fighting to keep the satisfaction from my voice, "shall we discuss how to make this work?"

The next hour was spent in careful planning – how to approach Lord Tytos, how to handle the Freys, how to ensure Genna's wishes were considered in all of this. Tywin contributed his knowledge of his father's nature, while Aemon offered insights into Genna's interests and preferences that proved he'd been paying far more attention than anyone had realized.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows through Jenny's tapestries, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was what being a prince should mean – not just wielding power, but using it to help those you cared about, to make things better where you could.

"Thank you," Tywin said quietly as we finally took our leave. "For doing this. For seeing what needs to be done and actually doing it."

"That's what friends are for," I replied simply. "And family, which is what we'll be if this works out."

He nodded, and though his expression remained controlled as always, I could see the relief in his eyes. "Aemon will be good for her," he said after a moment. "Better than... better than many would be."

"Better than all of them," I corrected gently. "Because he sees her for who she is, not what she represents."

As we walked back through the castle corridors, I caught sight of Baelon practicing his swordwork in one of the courtyards, still determinedly swinging his stick at imaginary foes. Watching him, I thought about family, about duty and love and how sometimes the best way to serve both was to find new paths forward.

"You know," I said thoughtfully, "this could be the start of something better. Not just for Genna and Aemon, but for all of us."

Tywin raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"A reminder that marriages can be about more than just alliance," I explained. "That they can strengthen houses through understanding as well as duty."

"Like your parents," he observed.

"Like my parents," I agreed. "And maybe, if we're lucky, like your sister and my cousin."

For the first time that day, Tywin allowed himself a small but genuine smile. "Maybe," he said softly. "Though we still have to convince my father."

"Leave that to me," I assured him. "After all, what are best friends for if not helping each other build a better future?"

His answering look held both gratitude and understanding. We'd come a long way from that first meeting during my 5th birthday celebration – from two heirs of Great Houses to true friends, working together to protect those we cared about.

Now we just had to make it happen.

---

"The key is finding the right tone," I muttered, crumpling another draft and adding it to the growing pile beside my desk. "Too formal and he'll feel threatened, too casual and he won't take it seriously enough..."

"Perhaps start with congratulations about Gerion?" Rhaella suggested from where she sat reading Genna's latest letter. "That gives you a natural opening to discuss family matters."

"Good idea," I nodded, pulling a fresh piece of parchment closer. "What else does Genna say? Anything we can use?"

My sister's face grew troubled as she scanned the letter again. "She says her father's been even more... distracted lately. The stress of Lady Jeyne's difficult birth has him seeking comfort in food and beer more than ever. But," she added thoughtfully, "she also mentions that he still listens to her mother, even in this state. If anyone can make him see reason..."

"Mother," Tywin finished from his own desk, where he was composing a letter to his mother. "Which is why we're writing to her as well."

I studied my friend's careful script. Even in this, Tywin maintained his precise control, though I caught the slight tension in his shoulders as he wrote. This wasn't just about breaking a betrothal anymore – it was about protecting his family, about finding a way to help his father without shaming him.

"How's this?" I asked, reading from my latest draft:

"My dear Lord Tytos,

First, please accept my heartfelt congratulations on the birth of your son Gerion. Such joy is a blessing from the gods themselves, though I was grieved to hear of Lady Jeyne's difficult recovery. I pray the Seven grant her swift healing and renewed strength.

I write to you not just as a prince, but as someone who shares your deep understanding of the importance of friendship and family. Recent events have brought to my attention a possibility that I believe could bring great honor to both our houses while strengthening the bonds of friendship you hold so dear..."

"Better," Rhaella approved. "It acknowledges his values while steering him toward a better path."

Tywin nodded slightly. "He responds well to praise, especially about friendship. And mentioning mother's health first shows proper concern."

I continued writing, carefully laying out the proposal for breaking the Frey betrothal in favor of a match with Aemon. Every word was chosen to emphasize friendship over mere alliance, to show how this change would actually strengthen the relationships Lord Tytos valued so much.

"What about this part?" I asked after several more paragraphs:

"While I understand your friendship with House Frey, surely a match that brings your daughter closer to her dear friend Princess Rhaella while reinforcing your house's ties to the royal family would serve those bonds of friendship even better? Prince Aemon has always spoken most highly of Lady Genna's wit and grace, and their friendship could blossom into something truly remarkable with your blessing..."

"It's good," Tywin said after a moment. "Though perhaps mention how this would allow him to maintain friendly relations with the Freys while still securing a more prestigious match? Father hates the thought of losing any friendship, even one as... dubious as Walder Frey's."

I made the suggested addition, then sealed both letters – mine to Lord Tytos and Tywin's to Lady Jeyne. As we prepared to take them to the ravenry, a servant appeared with another message, this one bearing the seal of Dragonstone.

"From Uncle Daeron," I smiled, recognizing the writing. Breaking the seal, I read aloud:

"Dearest brother and family,

Dragonstone remains much as you left it, though perhaps a bit better organized now that I've had time to properly go through the old records. You'll be pleased to know I've discovered several previously overlooked documents about the castle's construction that might interest you, Aerys – the builders left quite detailed notes about their methods.

I must admit, when Father first suggested I take up residence here, I was... uncertain. Being the spare carries its own burdens, as you well know. But now, with little Baelon's birth securing the succession so thoroughly, I find myself enjoying the freedom to pursue my own interests. The library here is remarkable, and the solitude gives me time to think, to study, to be myself without constantly wondering if I'm meeting everyone's expectations.

Speaking of expectations – I hear you've been making quite an impression on the Small Council. Father writes that your city improvement proposals show remarkable insight. I'm not surprised; you've always seen things others miss.

Give my love to everyone, especially the little ones. Tell Baelon I've found some fascinating old training manuals that might interest him when he's older, and let Alyssa know the dragon carvings she was so curious about have been properly documented – I'm having detailed drawings made for her.

Your loving uncle,

Daeron

P.S. - I've also found what appears to be an old inventory of the castle's wine cellars. Most interesting reading, though perhaps not for the reasons the original keeper intended..."

"He sounds happy," Rhaella observed. "More relaxed than I've ever known him to be."

"Freedom suits him," I agreed, remembering how Uncle Daeron had always seemed slightly strained at court, forever conscious of his position as the spare of our father. "Sometimes the best thing we can do for people is let them find their own path."

"Speaking of paths," Tywin interjected, "we should get these letters to the ravenry before dinner."

The walk to the ravenry was quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts. As we watched the ravens take wing – one to Casterly Rock, one to Dragonstone – I found myself hoping we'd chosen our words well enough to make a difference.

Later that evening, the family gathered for dinner in the Queen's private dining room. It was one of my favorite traditions – a time when we could be ourselves without the formal constraints of court. Baelon and Alyssa were allowed to sit with us instead of being relegated to the nursery, though they still had to mind their manners. Mostly.

"Aeys!" Baelon called as soon as we entered. "Did you see me practicing today? Ser Duncan says my footwork is improving!"

"He means he only tripped twice instead of five times," Alyssa added helpfully, earning a glare from her twin.

"Children," Mother said mildly, though her eyes twinkled. "Remember what we discussed about dinner conversation?"

"Sorry Mother," they chorused, though Baelon still bounced slightly in his seat with barely contained energy.

Father sat at the head of the table, his breathing easier today than it had been lately. Grandfather and Grandmother joined us, along with Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jenny. Aemon sat between his parents, trying very hard to look casual and failing completely. Steffon and Tywin had their usual places – my boisterous cousin next to Baelon (the only one who could match his energy) and my more reserved friend beside me.

As the first course was served, conversation flowed naturally. Grandmother asked about our training, while Grandfather discussed the latest reports from the city renovation projects. Jenny told one of her stories about the woods witch who'd first prophesied her marriage to Duncan, making Baelon and Alyssa lean forward in fascination.

Finally, as the main course was cleared away, I caught Father's eye and nodded slightly. He'd known I was planning to raise the subject tonight, had helped me choose the right moment.

"Before dessert is served," Father said, his voice carrying easily despite its usual weakness, "Aerys has something he'd like to discuss with us all."

All eyes turned to me. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was family – people who loved us, who wanted the best for everyone involved.

"As you know," I began carefully, "House Lannister has been experiencing some... difficulties lately. Lord Tytos recently betrothed his daughter Genna to Emmon Frey, a match that many feel is..." I paused diplomatically, "perhaps not the most advantageous for either house."

"That's one way of putting it," Grandfather muttered, though not unkindly.

"I've been thinking," I continued, "about how we might help improve the situation. And after much consideration, I believe I have a solution that would benefit everyone involved." I glanced at Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jenny, who nodded encouragingly. "I propose that we offer an alternative match – between Lady Genna and Cousin Aemon."

A moment of silence followed, broken only by Baelon's whispered "What's a betrothal?" to Steffon, who quickly shushed him.

"Interesting," Grandmother said thoughtfully. "Though breaking a betrothal is no small matter."

"The match with House Frey was ill-considered," I argued. "Made in haste and taking advantage of Lord Tytos's... generous nature. This would be a way to correct that while strengthening ties between our houses."

"And what does young Aemon think of this?" Father asked, though his slight smile suggested he already knew.

Aemon's face reddened slightly, but he sat straighter in his chair. "I... that is, Lady Genna is..." he took a deep breath and started over. "I would be honored by such a match."

"They're actually quite well-suited," Rhaella added supportively. "Genna writes to me often, and she speaks very highly of Aemon."

"The old gods smile on unions built on understanding," Jenny said dreamily, making Aemon blush even deeper.

"It's more than just personal compatibility," I pressed on. "This match would help restore House Lannister's standing while giving both houses something valuable. The Lannisters get a prestigious marriage into the royal family, we get stronger ties to the Westerlands, and most importantly," I glanced at Tywin, "two young people who genuinely like each other get a chance at happiness."

"And the Freys?" Grandmother asked practically. "They won't take this slight lightly."

"I've thought about that," I assured her. "There are ways to compensate them that would actually profit them more than the marriage would have. Gold, trade agreements, perhaps even some minor land concessions from the Lannisters – all things that would let them save face while actually improving their position."

"You've given this considerable thought," Grandfather observed, studying me with that penetrating gaze that always made me feel like he could see right through me.

"I have," I admitted. "Because it's the right thing to do. Not just politically, but personally." I turned to look at Tywin. "House Lannister has been our friend and ally for generations. When they face difficulties, it's our duty as friends to help them find a better path."

Tywin's expression remained carefully controlled, but I caught the slight softening around his eyes that told me how much those words meant to him.

"Well said," Father approved. "Though convincing Lord Tytos..."

"We've already written to him," I said. "And to Lady Jeyne. The letters went out this afternoon."

"Moving quickly, I see," Grandmother's lips twitched slightly. "Though perhaps in this case, that's wise."

"What about Genna?" Alyssa asked suddenly. "Doesn't she get to choose?"

"An excellent question," Mother smiled at her daughter. "What do you think, Aerys?"

"Genna's happiness is a primary concern," I assured them. "Which is why we're approaching it this way – giving her parents time to consider the match, letting them present it to her as an option rather than an order." I glanced at Aemon. "And I think once she understands all the possibilities..."

"She'll choose what's best for her heart as well as her house," Jenny finished softly.

"This could work," Grandfather said thoughtfully. "Though it will require careful handling."

"That's why I wanted to discuss it with all of you," I explained. "We'll need everyone's support to make this succeed."

"Count me in!" Steffon declared enthusiastically. "Genna's always been kind to me, and Aemon's my cousin. I want them both to be happy!"

"Me too!" Baelon added, though I suspected he was still unclear on exactly what he was supporting. "Can I help?"

"The best help you can offer right now is discretion," Father said gently. "This needs to be handled carefully, without too many people knowing until the right moment."

"Like a surprise attack?" Baelon asked eagerly.

"More like a carefully planned campaign," I corrected, smiling at his enthusiasm. "Sometimes the best victories come from patience and preparation."

As dessert was finally served, conversation shifted to lighter topics, but I could see the wheels turning in everyone's minds. Grandfather and Grandmother exchanged meaningful looks, while Uncle Duncan and Aunt Jenny spoke quietly together. Aemon kept sneaking glances at Tywin, as if seeking continued approval, while Steffon was already suggesting ways to make the eventual wedding "the greatest celebration ever!"

"Thank you," Tywin said quietly as we finished our dessert. "For doing this. For understanding why it matters."

"You're my best friend," I replied simply. "Your family's happiness is important to me." I paused, then added with a slight smile, "Besides, can you imagine the look on Walder Frey's face when he realizes he's lost his chance to marry into House Lannister?"

A ghost of a smile touched Tywin's lips. "Almost worth the price of compensation alone."

---

Jeyne Marbrand Pov

Gerion's tiny hand curled around my finger as he slept, his perfect face peaceful in the afternoon light. Even after nearly two months, I still couldn't bring myself to put him down when I was strong enough to hold him. Each moment felt precious, especially now that I knew...

"My lady," Maester Belden's voice still echoed in my memory, heavy with carefully measured sympathy. "Another pregnancy would almost certainly prove fatal. The strain on your heart..."

I pushed the memory away, focusing instead on my youngest son's peaceful breathing. Gerion was worth every moment of pain, every risk. All my children were. Though watching Tytos try to drown his fears for me in beer and cakes broke my heart in different ways.

"Mother?" Genna's voice came from the doorway. "Are you well enough for visitors?"

I looked up to see three of my children hovering uncertainly at the threshold – Genna, who at ten was trying so hard to be a proper lady despite everything, Kevan with his serious eleven-year-old face, and little Tygett practically bouncing with five-year-old energy.

"Always well enough for you," I smiled, carefully shifting Gerion to make room for them on the bed. "Come, tell me about your morning lessons."

They approached with varying degrees of decorum – Genna graceful despite her obvious worry, Kevan measured and careful, Tygett barely restraining himself from jumping onto the bed.

"Careful," Genna cautioned her younger brother. "Remember what Maester Belden said about not jostling Mother."

"I'm not made of glass," I assured them, though I appreciated their concern. "Now, what adventures have you all been having?"

"I managed three perfect hits during archery practice!" Tygett burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "And Kevan helped me with my stance, just like Tywin used to!"

"Very good," I praised, noting how Kevan straightened slightly at the comparison to his eldest brother. "And you, Kevan? How are your studies progressing?"

"Well enough," he replied with characteristic understatement. "Though I wish Tywin were here to explain some of the more complex histories. He always made them clearer somehow."

A familiar ache filled my chest at the mention of my eldest. Though I knew fostering at King's Landing was best for him, especially given recent events, I missed him terribly. His latest letter, arriving just that morning, lay on my bedside table – full of careful observations and barely concealed concern for his siblings, especially Genna.

"And you, sweetling?" I turned to my daughter, noting the shadows under her eyes that no child her age should have. "How are your lessons with Septa Meryam?"

Genna's attempt at a smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Fine, Mother. She says my embroidery is improving."

"But?" I prompted gently.

"But..." she hesitated, glancing at her brothers before continuing in a rush: "She keeps talking about what a good match I've made, how I should be grateful for Lord Frey's interest, how a lady must do her duty to her house and..." Her voice cracked slightly.

"Come here," I opened my free arm, and she fell into it immediately, burying her face against my shoulder. Kevan and Tygett moved closer too, instinctively seeking to comfort their sister.

"I don't want to marry Emmon," Genna whispered against my neck. "He's stupid and cruel and he makes fun of Father behind his back and..."

"Shhhh," I stroked her hair, my heart aching. "Nothing is set in stone, sweetling. Your father means well, but sometimes he needs help seeing things clearly."

"Like how he needs help seeing that Lord Westerling and Lord Banefort are taking advantage of him?" Kevan asked quietly.

Sometimes I forgot how observant my second son could be. "Yes," I acknowledged. "Your father has a generous heart, which makes him want to see the best in everyone. Sometimes that means he needs others to help him see the whole truth."

"Is that why Tywin left?" Tygett asked suddenly. "Because Father wouldn't listen about the Freys?"

"Tywin left because it was a good opportunity for him," I said carefully. "Serving as the king's cupbearer is a great honor." Though we all knew there was more to it than that.

"He writes to me sometimes," Genna offered, sitting up slightly but staying close. "Him and Princess Rhaella both. They..." she hesitated again.

"They what, sweetling?"

"They treat me like I matter," she said finally. "Not just as a way to get gold from Father or an alliance with our house, but... like I'm worth something for myself."

My arms tightened around both Gerion and Genna. "You are worth everything," I told her fiercely. "Never doubt that. And sometimes..." I glanced at Tywin's letter again, "sometimes the gods send us help in unexpected ways."

"Mother?" Kevan caught my tone immediately. "Has something happened?"

"Perhaps," I said carefully. "I received a letter from your brother this morning, along with one from Prince Aerys himself."

All three of them straightened at that, even little Tygett who had been starting to fidget.

"What did they say?" Genna asked, trying to keep her voice steady but unable to hide her hope.

"Many interesting things," I smiled slightly. "But before I discuss them with your father, I want you all to know something very important." I waited until I had all their attention, even Gerion seeming to focus his newborn gaze on me. "No matter what happens, no matter what choices are made, you are my children. Your happiness matters to me more than any alliance or friendship."

"Even more than Father's friendship with Lord Frey?" Genna asked in a small voice.

"Especially that," I said firmly. "Now, I need to speak with your father. Would you three mind watching Gerion for a bit? He seems to sleep better with his siblings nearby."

They all nodded eagerly – even at their young ages, they'd become fiercely protective of their baby brother. As I carefully transferred Gerion to Genna's practiced arms (she'd insisted on learning proper holding techniques from the wet nurse), I pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads.

"Send your father to me," I instructed Kevan, who nodded seriously. "And remember – whatever happens, we are lions. We stand together."

Once they'd gone – Genna carrying Gerion with exaggerated care while her brothers hovered protectively nearby – I took a moment to compose myself. The maester had been clear about avoiding excessive strain or excitement, but some things were worth the risk.

Tytos arrived shortly after, his face already flushed from what I suspected was more than just the walk to our chambers.

"My love," he smiled broadly, though I caught the worry in his eyes as he studied me. "The children said you wanted to see me? Are you feeling unwell? Should I call the maester?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, patting the bed beside me. "Come sit with me. We need to discuss something important."

He settled next to me, immediately taking my hand in his. Despite his faults, despite everything, I couldn't help but love this man who wore his heart so openly on his sleeve.

"I've received some interesting letters," I began carefully. "From King's Landing."

"Oh?" he brightened. "From young Tywin? How is the boy doing? I hoped the fostering would help him understand about friendship and..."

"And from Prince Aerys," I continued gently. "About Genna's betrothal."

Tytos's face fell slightly. "Now dearest, we've discussed this. The Freys are our friends, and young Emmon..."

"Is a second son," I finished. "Of a house that, while certainly... friendly, perhaps isn't the most suitable match for the only daughter of House Lannister."

"Walder has been very good to us," Tytos protested, though with less certainty now. "Always willing to loan gold when we need it..."

"At interest," I reminded him softly. "And do you know what our son writes about how Lord Frey speaks of you at court? How his son treats our daughter?"

His face fell further. "Surely not... Walder wouldn't..."

"My love," I squeezed his hand gently. "You want to see the best in everyone. It's one of the things I love about you. But sometimes... sometimes being a true friend means being honest about when something isn't working."

"But breaking the betrothal..." he looked stricken. "Walder would never forgive..."

"What if there were a better option?" I reached for the letters. "One that would maintain friendships while giving our daughter a chance at real happiness?"

He listened as I read Prince Aerys' carefully worded proposal, followed by Tywin's more personal letter about his observations of Prince Aemon and Genna's interactions. By the end, I could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"A prince's son," he mused. "And they actually like each other?"

"They do," I confirmed. "More than that, this match would show everyone that House Lannister still commands respect from the highest house in the realm. That we don't need to grasp at lesser alliances."

"But Walder..."

"Can be compensated," I said firmly. "Prince Aerys suggests several ways to make it worth his while – gold, trade agreements, perhaps even some minor land concessions. He'd profit more than he would from the marriage, and save face in the bargain."

"It would be nice," Tytos said slowly, "to see Genna smile again. She's been so quiet lately..."

"Because she's terrified," I told him bluntly. "Our daughter, our only daughter, deserves better than being sold to a second son who mocks her father behind his back."

That hit home. Tytos's face darkened slightly. "Mocks? You mean young Emmon..."

"Has his father's way with words," I said diplomatically. "While Prince Aemon has nothing but respect for both our house and our daughter."

Tytos was quiet for a long moment, still holding my hand. Finally, he asked in a small voice: "Have I been a fool, my love? Letting friendship blind me to what's best for our children?"

"Never a fool," I assured him, reaching up to cup his cheek. "Just someone who wants to see the best in people. But sometimes the truest friendship is knowing when to step back, to find a better path."

"Like you do for me," he said softly. "Always helping me see clearer..."

"Because I love you," I told him. "You and our children. Which is why I'm asking you to consider this carefully. Not just for Genna's sake, but for all of us."

He covered my hand with his, leaning into my touch. "The maesters say you shouldn't strain yourself," he murmured. "That we can't..."

"I know," I said gently. "Which is why we need to think about securing our children's futures now. Giving them the best chances we can."

"And you think this match..."

"Would give Genna a chance at real happiness," I finished. "While showing the realm that House Lannister still stands proud."

He was quiet again, thinking. I let him process, knowing that pushing too hard would only make him retreat into uncertainty.

"Prince Aerys," he said finally. "He's Tywin's friend, isn't he? The one who suggested the fostering?"

"He is," I confirmed. " His best friend. And, he's done more to help our house than any so-called friend who only comes asking for gold."

That seemed to decide him. "Very well," he straightened slightly, some of his old confidence returning. "I'll write to King's Landing, and to Walder..." he faltered slightly.

"Let me help you with the letters," I suggested. "We'll find the right words together."

His smile was worth any strain the conversation might have caused. "What would I do without you, my love?"

"You'll never have to find out," I assured him, though we both knew the maester's warnings hung between us. "Now, shall we call the children back? I think they'd like to hear the news."

Their faces when we told them – Genna's shocked joy, Kevan's quiet approval, even Tygett's enthusiastic if slightly confused celebration – made everything worth it. As I held Gerion close again, watching my family's happiness, I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods for sending us help when we needed it most.

And a special thanks for Prince Aerys, who had seen what needed to be done and found a way to make it happen. Perhaps there was hope for our house yet.

---

The throne room buzzed with anticipation as the court assembled. After three weeks of intense negotiations between House Lannister and the crown, word had spread that King Aegon was finally ready to make his announcement. I watched the gathered lords and ladies from my place on the dais steps, noting how they clustered in small groups, trading whispers and speculation about the details of the arrangements.

Grandfather sat the Iron Throne with his usual grace, though I noticed how he positioned himself carefully among the blades. Father stood at his right hand, his breathing steady today despite the tension in the air. Mother and Rhaella were the picture of royal dignity, while Uncle Duncan kept a protective hand on Aemon's shoulder. The past weeks had seen father and uncle exchanging countless ravens, carefully negotiating terms that would benefit both houses while maintaining everyone's dignity.

Tywin stood with us as was his right as cupbearer, his face a mask of perfect courtesy that didn't quite hide his satisfaction. The initial ravens from Casterly Rock had arrived three weeks ago – Lord Tytos formally withdrawing from the Frey betrothal and accepting the match with Aemon. Lady Jeyne's influence had worked perfectly, though what followed had been an intricate dance of diplomacy between the houses.

I'd spent many late nights with Uncle Duncan, helping craft responses to Lord Tytos's enthusiastic but sometimes scattered proposals. My uncle had proven a shrewd negotiator when it came to securing his son's future, while still maintaining the warmth that characterized our house's relationship with the Lannisters.

"My lords and ladies," Grandfather's voice carried clearly through the hall, bringing immediate silence. "We are gathered today to share joyous news. After careful consideration and negotiation between our houses, it pleases us to announce the betrothal of our beloved grandson, Prince Aemon Targaryen, to Lady Genna of House Lannister."

The response was immediate – a wave of excited murmurs and scattered applause. Many had expected this after the initial ravens went out, but having it confirmed by the king himself made it official in a way mere rumors couldn't match.

"This union," Grandfather continued, "represents the strengthening of ancient bonds between our houses. Lady Genna's wit and grace will make her a worthy addition to our family, while Prince Aemon's gentle wisdom will serve House Lannister well in turn."

He paused, allowing the murmurs to settle before continuing: "In honor of this union, and in recognition of Prince Aemon's service to the realm, we have ordered the construction of a new keep in the Crownlands. This castle, to be named Dragonsheart, will serve as a seat for Prince Aemon's branch of our family, ensuring that both branches of House Targaryen have strongholds worthy of their station."

This announcement caused even more excitement. Everyone knew how Mother had insisted that Summerhall remain with the main line, and it was all but stated that once Uncle Duncan passed away my little brother Baelon would be formally created Prince of Summerhall. But the creation of a new keep – one specifically for Duncan's line – was a masterful solution that satisfied everyone's pride while strengthening both branches of the family.

I watched the crowd's reactions carefully. Most seemed genuinely pleased – a royal marriage was always cause for celebration, and many had thought the previous Frey betrothal beneath House Lannister's dignity. The announcement of the new keep added extra weight to the occasion, showing just how seriously the crown took this union. But there were some darker looks, particularly from those houses who might have hoped for such an alliance themselves.

Lord Tytos had been particularly pleased with this arrangement, seeing it as further proof of the match's prestige. His ravens had grown increasingly enthusiastic as the negotiations progressed, especially after Uncle Duncan agreed to certain trade concessions that would help restore the Rock's finances without appearing to be charity.

Word had reached us yesterday that Lord Walder Frey had finally arrived in King's Landing, having spent the past three weeks riding hard from the Twins in a black fury. Despite the generous compensation offered – now including additional concessions negotiated through the Tullys – his ravens had grown increasingly hostile until Grandfather had been forced to remind him sharply of his place as a sworn bannerman.

The great doors burst open with a crash that made several ladies jump. Walder Frey strode in, his eldest son Stevron trying to restrain him while Emmon trailed behind looking both furious and terrified. Three weeks of nursing his rage during the journey south, combined with watching his chance at a prestigious alliance slip away despite all his maneuvering, had clearly done nothing to improve Lord Frey's temperament.

"Your Grace!" Walder's voice carried that whining note that hadn't changed since his childhood. "This is an outrage! A breach of contract! House Frey demands—"

"Lord Frey," Grandfather's voice cut through the hall like Valyrian steel. The familiar whine seemed to trigger something in him, and I saw his fingers tighten on the Iron Throne's armrest. "You forget yourself. Though I suppose that's nothing new – you were forgetting yourself even as a toddler at Whitewalls, weren't you?"

The reference made Walder falter slightly. Few now spoke of the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, or of how House Frey had supported the wrong side while the Lannisters had remained loyal to the crown.

"That... that was my father's doing," Walder protested. "I was just a child—"

"A child who caused his own sister's marriage by spying and spreading tales," Grandfather's voice dripped with disgust. "Even then, you showed your true nature. Ser Duncan and I remember it well, don't we, old friend?"

Ser Duncan's voice rumbled from where he stood guard: "Aye, Your Grace. Though I still regret not finding a deeper well."

Several people tittered at that, making Walder's face flush darker. "Ancient history has no bearing on this theft! This insult! Lord Tytos gave his word—"

"And compensated you generously for releasing it," I stepped forward, my voice clear but controlled. "Three weeks of ravens have detailed the gold and trade concessions House Lannister offered. Or were you too busy nursing your wounded pride to read them?"

Walder's face mottled with rage. "Gold? You think gold can buy honor?"

"Honor?" Tywin's voice was deadly quiet. "You speak of honor while trying to force my sister into a marriage beneath her station? While sending your second son instead of your heir? Though given your own... proclivities, perhaps you simply have too many sons to keep track of which is which."

The barb about Walder's numerous marriages and offspring hit home. "Emmon is a good boy!" he protested. "Worth ten of your precious princes—"

"Careful," Uncle Duncan warned softly. "You speak of my son. And unlike some, we Targaryens value quality over quantity in our children."

The tension in the hall could have been cut with a knife. The Kingsguard had shifted slightly, hands near their sword hilts. Ser Duncan in particular looked ready to intervene, perhaps still regretting that missed opportunity at Whitewalls all those years ago.

Emmon, perhaps emboldened by his father's outburst or simply too stupid to read the room, took a step toward Tywin. "You think you're so much better than us? Your father's the laughingstock of the Westerlands!"

Tywin's movement was so fast I barely saw it, but suddenly he was between Emmon and the dais, his voice colder than ice: "Come one step closer to my family and it will be your last."

The Kingsguard's hands went to their swords as Emmon stupidly took that step. The fool actually reached for his own weapon – in the throne room, before the king, under guest right.

"ENOUGH!" I commanded, my voice ringing with authority that surprised even me. "Lord Frey, control your son before he does something unforgivable. Or have you forgotten the laws of gods and men regarding guest right? Though perhaps such sacred traditions mean little to a house that values coin over honor." This didn't surprise me in the slightest considering how in canon this weasel of a man has been responsible for carrying out the most atrocious, dishonorable and despicable act in westerosi history: The Red Wedding. I'm not ashamed to admit that I had to put the book down to compose myself as I read how Robb, Catelyn and their allies were slaughtered like pigs under the sacred protection of Guest Rights. And the Show made it SO much worse as you could actually see it happen in all of its heartbreaking horror instead of just imagining it. So having the chance of humbling this sorry excise of a lord was quite cathartic.

The hall went deathly silent. Even Walder paled slightly at that. Guest right was sacred throughout Westeros – to violate it, especially in the Red Keep itself...

"The prince speaks truly," Grandfather's voice was quiet but carried to every corner. "You stand in my hall, under my protection and hospitality. Would you repay that with violence? Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised – like father, like son. Your father chose treachery at Whitewalls too."

"I... that is..." Walder sputtered, finally seeming to realize the magnitude of his situation. "We were promised—"

"You were offered a match above your station," I cut in, years of remembered history making my voice sharp with disgust. "Taking advantage of a good man's generous nature to grasp far above your reach. And not even offering your heir in return, but a second son? Tell me, Lord Frey, do you value House Lannister so little, or do you simply have so many children you've lost track of their worth?"

"House Lannister," Walder sneered, though with less confidence now. "House Lannister is—"

"One of the great houses of Westeros," Grandfather thundered suddenly, rising from the Iron Throne. "Ancient and proud, with a lineage stretching back to the Age of Heroes. While House Frey..." his voice dripped with decades of accumulated contempt, "grasps at glory with coin and schemes, breeding like rabbits in your two towers, thinking quantity can replace quality. How many wives have you had now, Lord Frey? How many children whose names you can barely remember?"

Stevron, showing more wisdom than his father, tried to pull Walder back. "Father, perhaps we should—"

"Listen to your heir, Lord Frey," I advised. "He seems to understand what you've forgotten – that there are ranks among nobles, ancient obligations that must be respected. House Lannister has offered more than fair compensation for releasing the betrothal. I suggest you take it, along with whatever shreds of dignity you can salvage from this... unfortunate display."

"You dare—" Walder began, but Grandfather cut him off.

"My grandson dares because he speaks truth," the king's voice was winter itself. "You come into my hall – you who I remember as a spying, tale-telling child, whose father supported traitors – interrupt a royal announcement, nearly draw steel under guest right, and still think to make demands? Consider carefully your next words, Lord Frey. They may be the last you speak in our presence."

The threat wasn't subtle. I could see Walder's mind working, finally realizing just how precarious his position had become. He'd come expecting to bully his way to victory, forgetting that he faced not just the Lannisters but the Iron Throne itself – and a king who remembered him all too well from childhood.

"Perhaps," he said finally, his voice dripping with false humility, "we have been... hasty in our objections. If the compensation offered is generous enough..."

"It is more than generous," I stated firmly. "Gold, trade agreements, even some minor land concessions – far more than you would have gained from the marriage. Though perhaps," I added with careful precision, "you might consider using some of that gold to purchase the honor your silver apparently cannot buy. Or at least to build a few more towers – you seem to be running out of room for all your offspring."

The insult wasn't lost on anyone. Walder's face purpled again, but Stevron's grip on his arm tightened.

"We accept the compensation," Stevron said quickly. "With gratitude for the crown's wisdom in resolving this... misunderstanding."

"Wisdom indeed," Grandfather agreed coldly. "Now, I believe we were in the midst of celebrating a betrothal? Unless you'd care to object further?"

The threat in his tone was unmistakable. Walder finally seemed to deflate, though his eyes burned with hatred. "No... Your Grace. We... withdraw any objection."

Emmon, however, wasn't quite finished. He turned to face both Tywin and me, his face twisted with spite. "You think this is over? House Frey remembers its friends... and its enemies." His eyes flickered meaningfully between us. "Though I suppose dragons should be used to betrayal by now. How many of your own blood have turned against you? At least we Freys know where true loyalty lies..."

The implication – subtle but unmistakable – made my blood run cold. Before anyone could react, he added in a whisper meant just for us: "There are still those across the Narrow Sea who remember when dragons were true to their word."

Tywin's hand went back to his sword hilt, but I caught his arm. The threat was clear enough – apparently the Freys had been making interesting connections in Essos. Connections that might include certain exiles with black dragon banners.

"How interesting," I replied loudly enough for the whole court to hear, "that you speak of loyalty while hinting at treason. Tell me, Lord Emmon, does your father know you've been corresponding with traitors? Or is that particular betrayal all your own?"

The color drained from his face as he realized his mistake. Walder spun to stare at his son in horror, while Stevron looked ready to drag them both bodily from the hall.

"I never said..." Emmon started to protest, but Grandfather cut him off.

"No, you merely implied," his voice was deadly quiet. "Tell me, young Frey, have you ever seen what happens to bridges when winter floods come? It would be a shame if the crown's engineers found structural concerns that required... extensive repairs."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Even Walder seemed to realize how dangerously close to the edge they'd come.

"My son speaks from wounded pride, nothing more," he said quickly. "We would never..."

"See that you don't," Grandfather's voice could have frozen the Narrow Sea. "Now get out of my sight before I decide that the realm might be better served by a free crossing at the Twins."

The dismissal was clear. Walder practically dragged Emmon away, though not before the latter shot us one last venomous look. As the doors closed behind them, I caught Tywin's eye. The look we shared held volumes – satisfaction at their humiliation mixed with concern about Emmon's implied threat.

"Well handled," Father said quietly as the court began to disperse. "Though perhaps next time we could avoid quite so many references to ancient bloodlines?"

"Sometimes people need reminding of their place," I replied, though I couldn't help smiling slightly. "Especially when they forget it so... dramatically."

"Still," Grandfather noted dryly, "it might be wise to post extra guards during the betrothal feast. And perhaps have Lord Rosby look into any recent correspondence between the Twins and certain parties in Essos."

"Let them plot," Tywin said coldly. "Let them remember what happens to those who threaten the crown."

"They'll remember something more important," I corrected gently. "That true nobility isn't about bridges or gold or even ancient bloodlines. It's about honor, about keeping faith with friends and family alike."

Tywin's expression softened slightly as he nodded. We both knew this wasn't just about putting the Freys in their place – it was about protecting those we cared about, about building something better than mere alliances.

"Speaking of family," Grandfather said thoughtfully, "your father and I have been discussing something, Aerys."

I turned to him curiously. Father moved closer, his breathing steady as he shared a meaningful look with Grandfather.

"You've shown remarkable judgment these past months," Father said warmly. "Both in the city improvements and in handling delicate situations like this betrothal. But there's more to ruling than just King's Landing."

"We think it's time you saw more of the realm," Grandfather continued. "A royal progress of sorts – visiting the great houses, learning about their lands and peoples firsthand."

My heart leapt at the possibility. "A tour of the kingdoms?"

"Not all at once," Father cautioned. "We'll start with the Crownlands and perhaps the Riverlands, then work our way further out as time allows. It would be good for the realm to know their future king, and good for you to know them in turn."

"Your friends could accompany you," Grandfather added with a slight smile. "Young Tywin should see his family, and I'm sure Steffon would enjoy showing you Storm's End."

"And it would give you a chance to see where Dragonsheart will be built," Mother added, joining us. "The architects have some questions about the design that I think you'd find interesting."

I caught the underlying meanings in their words. This wasn't just about education – it was about building relationships, strengthening ties, and yes, keeping an eye on certain houses that might be getting ideas above their station.

"Come," Mother continued. "We should begin preparations for the feast. And someone should write to Genna with the good news."

As we left the throne room, I caught sight of Aemon trying very hard not to look too pleased with himself. My cousin had maintained perfect composure throughout the confrontation, though I'd seen his hands clench when Emmon spoke of being "worth ten princes."

"You did well," I told him quietly. "Keeping your calm even when they insulted you."

"They didn't matter," he replied simply. "Only Genna's happiness matters."

Looking at him in that moment – seeing the quiet strength beneath his usual dreamy manner – I knew we'd made the right choice. This wasn't just about politics or putting the Freys in their place. It was about building something real, something that would last beyond mere alliances.

Later that evening, as we gathered in the family solar to discuss both the upcoming feast and my future travels, I found myself studying the map of Westeros spread across the table. Each kingdom held its own challenges and opportunities, its own web of relationships and rivalries. Parts of the realm that I'd only read about in my previous life or seen through the limited lens of a TV show now lay before me, real and waiting to be explored.

"Where will you want to go first?" Baelon asked excitedly, practically climbing onto the table to point at various locations. "Can I come? I want to see the Rock! And Storm's End! And the Eyrie! Aeys, you have to take me with you!"

"Me too!" Alyssa chimed in, not to be outdone by her twin. "I want to see the horses in the Reach! And the Water Gardens! Mother says they're the most beautiful place in all of Dorne."

"And I should come to help manage things," Rhaella added more diplomatically, though her eyes sparkled with the same excitement. "After all, you'll need someone to handle the social aspects..."

"Patience, little dragons," Father laughed softly, though the sound turned into a slight cough that made Mother look concerned. "Your brother's journey will take time to plan properly. And this first tour is for him alone."

"But Father—" all three started to protest at once.

"No buts," Mother interjected firmly, though she was smiling too. "Aerys needs to make this journey on his own. Though I suppose it would be good for all of you to start learning about the realm... in time."

"It's not fair," Baelon pouted, looking so crestfallen that I had to intervene.

"Tell you what," I said, pulling him and Alyssa close. "I'll write to you from everywhere I visit. Detailed letters about everything I see – the castles, the people, even the different kinds of horses." This last was directed at Alyssa, who perked up slightly.

"Promise?" she asked. "Even about the sand steeds in Dorne?"

"Especially about those," I assured her. "And I'll bring back presents from each place. Things you'd never find in King's Landing."

"Like what?" Baelon demanded, still not entirely mollified.

"Well," I pretended to think hard. "Maybe a piece of dragonglass from Dragonstone... a seashell from the Sunset Sea near Casterly Rock... perhaps even a falcon feather from the Eyrie?"

This started them speculating excitedly about possible gifts, their disappointment somewhat soothed by the promise of exotic treasures. Rhaella, however, wasn't so easily distracted.

"You'll need help with the diplomatic aspects," she insisted. "The formal dinners, the proper protocols for each house..."

"Which is exactly why you need to stay here," I told her gently. "To help Mother with the betrothal feast preparations and to keep these two," I ruffled the twins' hair, "from burning down the Red Keep while I'm gone."

"We wouldn't burn anything!" Baelon protested. Then, after a moment's thought: "Well, not on purpose anyway..."

"The realm needs to know its future king," Grandfather said thoughtfully, though his eyes twinkled at Baelon's comment. "And later, its future queen and princes. But for now, this journey is for Aerys alone."

"With Tywin and Steffon," Alyssa pointed out, still hoping to find a loophole. "So why not us too?"

"Because Tywin needs to see his family, especially with the new betrothal," Father explained patiently. "And Steffon is going home to Storm's End anyway. This isn't a pleasure trip, sweetling. It's about learning to rule."

"We need to learn too," Baelon grumbled, but with less conviction now.

"And you will," I promised. "But right now, what I need most is for you to help protect King's Landing while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?"

This responsibility perked him up considerably. "Like being your castellan?"

"Exactly like that," I nodded seriously. "You'll have to help Father and Grandfather keep everything running smoothly. And maybe," I added with a conspiratorial wink, "practice your swordwork so you can show me how much you've improved when I return."

"I'll practice every day!" he declared. "Twice a day! Three times!"

"And I'll help with the betrothal feast," Alyssa offered, not wanting to be left out. "I promise to wear shoes and everything!"

"A true sacrifice," Mother murmured, making everyone laugh.

"We'll need to be careful about the timing," Uncle Duncan noted, studying the map. "Especially given certain... implications from today's events."

The mood sobered slightly as everyone remembered Emmon's veiled threats. Even the twins seemed to sense the shift, drawing closer to Mother instinctively.

"That's precisely why this tour is important," Grandfather said firmly. "Let the realm see their future king – not just as a name or a title, but as someone who cares about their lands and people. Someone who builds bridges instead of charging tolls for them."

The slight jab at the Freys made everyone smile, though the underlying seriousness remained.

"We'll start with the closer holdings," Father decided. "Work our way out gradually. And perhaps," he added with a meaningful look at me, "learn which houses truly understand the meaning of loyalty."

I nodded, understanding the task before me. This wouldn't just be about seeing the realm – it would be about strengthening friendships, identifying potential threats, and showing everyone that the future of House Targaryen was secure and strong.

"How long will you be gone?" Alyssa asked in a small voice that made my heart ache. For all their bravado, the twins had never been separated from me for more than a few days.

"Not too long at each place," I assured her. "And I'll write so often you'll get tired of reading my letters."

"Never," Baelon declared loyally. "But you have to tell us everything. Every single thing!"

"Every single thing," I promised. "The food, the castles, the people – even the boring parts about trade agreements and crop rotations."

"Maybe skip those parts," he amended, making Father chuckle.

"The first leg of the journey will focus on the Crownlands," Grandfather explained, tracing the route on the map. "Visiting the major houses, seeing how the smallfolk fare, understanding the day-to-day workings of governance."

"Then to Storm's End with Steffon," Father continued. "And after that, depending on how things develop..."

"Casterly Rock?" Rhaella suggested innocently. "To discuss the betrothal arrangements in person?"

"Among other things," Mother agreed with a knowing smile. "Though perhaps we should focus on the immediate preparations first. The betrothal feast..."

"Will have extra guards," Grandfather noted. "Given recent... events."

"The Freys wouldn't dare try anything," Baelon said with all the confidence of his five years. "Not after today. Aeys and Tywin scared them too much!"

"Nevertheless," Father said diplomatically, "caution is always wise. Now, it's getting late, and some young dragons should be in bed..."

The twins protested this obvious attempt to exclude them from further planning, but eventually allowed themselves to be herded out by their nurses, but not before extracting several more promises from me about letters and gifts.

"We'll miss you terribly," Rhaella said softly once they'd gone. "Even if we understand why we can't come."

"I'll miss you too," I pulled her into a hug. "All of you. But this is something I need to do."

"We know," she smiled, though her eyes were suspiciously bright. "Just... be careful out there. The realm isn't always kind to dragons, even now."

"That's why this tour is so important," Grandfather said, joining us. "The realm needs to know their future king – not as some distant figure in King's Landing, but as someone who understands their needs, their struggles, their hopes."

Looking at the map again, I felt a surge of excitement beneath the weight of responsibility. So much of Westeros I'd only known through books and shows in my previous life... and now I would see it all firsthand. The ancient castles, the sweeping landscapes, the people who made the realm more than just lines on a map.

"Well then," I said, tracing potential routes with my finger, "where shall we begin?"

The discussion that followed lasted well into the night. Routes were planned, protocols discussed, contingencies considered. But beneath all the practical details, I could feel the excitement building. This wasn't just about duty or politics – it was about discovery, about seeing this world I'd been reborn into with my own eyes.

"You'll need proper gear," Mother noted, already making lists. "The weather varies greatly even within the Crownlands..."

"And proper escorts," Father added. "Ser Duncan will coordinate with the Kingsguard..."

"And perhaps," Grandfather suggested with a slight smile, "a journal to record your observations? For the twins, of course. So you don't forget any details they'll want to hear about."

"Of course," I agreed, though we both knew it would be for more than just entertaining my siblings. A record of conditions throughout the realm, of which houses prospered and which struggled, of where loyalty might be found and where threats might lurk... such knowledge could prove invaluable.

As the night grew later, I found myself drawn back to the map, tracing the routes we'd discussed. Places I'd only dreamed of seeing were now within reach. The ancient fortress of Storm's End, where Durran Godsgrief had defied the gods themselves. The golden halls of Casterly Rock, carved into a mountain of stone. The mysterious bogs of the Neck, the sweeping plains of the Reach, the red mountains of Dorne...

"Excited?" Father asked softly, joining me at the map.

"And nervous," I admitted. "There's so much to see, to learn..."

"You'll do fine," he assured me, squeezing my shoulder. "You have a good heart and a keen mind. The realm will see that."

Looking around at my family – Father's quiet confidence, Mother's practical concern, Grandfather's thoughtful planning, Rhaella's loving support – I felt both humbled and strengthened by their faith in me.

This journey wouldn't just be about seeing new places or identifying threats. It would be about proving worthy of their trust, about learning to be the king they believed I could be. About building something better for all of them, for all the realm.

A challenge, certainly. But then, when had anything worth doing ever been easy?

And if I happened to enjoy the adventure along the way... well, that was just a bonus.

---

Author's Note:

Hey everyone,

First off, wow, your response to the previous chapters has been interesting. I've seen so many t comments and statements, especially about dragons and where Aerys stands on them. You guys really dive deep into this stuff, and I love it.

I should probably clear something up about the dragons, Aerys isn't against bringing them back at all. He's just not keen on the whole "let's gather everyone we love in one place and experiment with magical napalm" plan. Can't really blame him there. He's looking for a different way to do it, something more... let's say traditional. And those words "Fire and Blood"? Well, there might be more meaning behind that family motto than most people realize.

Trust me, Aerys knows exactly how valuable dragons would be, especially with certain... chilly problems heading south in the future. He's just trying to find the right way to bring them back. After all, there's more than one path to waking dragons from stone - it's just about finding the one that won't get everyone he loves killed in the process.

I've got to admit, writing the confrontation with the Freys was particularly satisfying. After the Red Wedding, I think we all wanted to see them taken down a peg or two. Do you get to write a scene where they face real consequences for their arrogance, especially with Tywin and Aerys working together? That was just a chef's kiss

Speaking of which, I've created a Discord server for the story ( /6nKvstwE). Come join us if you want to chat about the series, share theories, or just hang out. I love hearing your ideas and perspectives, they often help shape where the story goes in ways you might not expect.

Looking ahead, we're about to embark on quite the journey. The next several chapters will follow Aerys, Tywin, Steffon, and Ser Duncan as they tour the Seven Kingdoms, starting with the Crownlands. Think of it as a medieval road trip, but with more political intrigue and significantly worse roads.

As always, huge thanks to .4545 for his editing work. His feedback continues to be invaluable, especially for keeping the character dynamics grounded and authentic.

Thanks for sticking with me on this journey. Your support means the world, especially as I navigate the fun rollercoaster that is job hunting.

See you in the Crownlands,

Mtle232.

---

Face Claims List:

Owen Teage as Young Aerys

Alexander Skarsgård as Adult Aerys

Lily Rose Depp as Young Rhaella

Charlize Theron as Adult Rhaella

Hugh Jackman as Ormund Baratheon

Timothée Chalamet as Young Steffon Baratheon

Henry Cavill as Adult Steffon Baratheon

Tom Cullen as Duncan the Small

Emma Stone as Jenny of Oldstones

Nicholas Hoult as Jaehaerys II

Amanda Seyfried as Shaera

Eddie Redmayne as Daeron

Kristen Bell as Rhaelle Targaryen/Baratheon

Tom Felton as Young Tywin

Charles Dance as Adult Tywin

David Wenham as Aegon V

Claire Foy as Queen Betha Blackwood

These are just how I've been picturing the characters while writing, but I'm totally open to other suggestions. If you have different actors in mind who you think would better fit any of these roles, I'd love to hear your thoughts.