Lyanna Stark (107 A.C. tenth Moon)
Five moons since the departure from Dragonstone by the Expedition
It had been some time since these screams were this close, ever since Aemma gave birth to Baelon. Oh, how she missed her friend and gooddaughter. A sadness lingered, fueled by the wish to let Aemma see her daughter married, happy, or even in love with Aemon.
But now, she found herself helping Alicent Hightower birthing her first grandchild. The maester and others were worried, as the Queen was giving birth early, but she wasn't. The child had been conceived a moon earlier before the wedding.
It wasn't the King's child; at the wedding, she had noticed Alicent not drinking much and looking rather pale, occasionally holding her belly. She suspected Alicent was with a child. Alicent hadn't slept with Viserys. Only with her son, as Aemon had informed her. She could partly understand Alicent's thinking as she shivered at the thought of having to carry Robert's child instead of Rhaengar's or Baelon's.
She looked around for indications of foul play, as was done with Aemma. Although it was rather unlikely the Hightowers were the benefactors of the Citadel. So now, it is suspected that the Queen will live, as Aemma should have lived. She remembered that her son told her that Viserys had denied allegations when he had confronted Viserys about what his scribtors had told him. The man had been in shock, or guilt of his choice still haunted him. Considering how he looked upon Rhaenyra now, it most certainly did.
'Aemma could have lived another "if," but considering how she loved her children, she would have gladly given her life to let him live. She had made that same choice before and would do the same again in a heartbeat. What choice would Aemma have had? She had given her consent in the room to save the baby, but would she if she knew her own life might be saved? It didn't matter anymore; Aemma was gone, and another gooddaughter was giving birth.' She thought of a painful past and looked at Alicent's strained face.
"Alicent, you can do it," she said as she held Alicent's hand. Alicent herself was screaming in pain, her own hand crushed as she pushed to give birth to her child. "Please, make it stop; it hurts," Alicent murmured in agony. "Where is he? He should be here," she wondered then, 'Whom did she mean, Viserys or Aemon, considering how giving birth could be eye-opening. Most likely Aemon.'
"He will be after. You will see him again," she said in comfort. "Yes, he will. He can't just now," Rhaenyra said in support, holding Alicent's shoulders.
"Aaghh," Alicent screamed, "A little more, your grace, I can see the head," Melos said; oh, she wanted to throttle the man. One of Aemon's own scribtors was also in the room. She looked at him, and the man nodded, a part of the agreement she made beforehand to ensure maesters weren't doing anything foul.
"Come, Alicent, soon you'll have your babe in your hands," she said, and with that, Alicent screamed one last time. Then the babe was born and came out squealing.
"Well done, Alicent, I'm proud of you," she said as she cradled Alicent. The girl was crying in relief. "It is alright; it is almost over," she murmured, caressing her cheek. A few moments later, Alicent groaned as the after-birth was pushed out. "It's done now; all is well," she said, kissing her barrow.
"Your grace, my congratulations; you have given birth to a healthy boy," Melos said as he bowed toward Alicent. "Give him to me, please," Alicent said, her voice choked with emotion. She and Rhaenyra helped Alicent sit more comfortably so she could hold the babe properly.
"He's beautiful," she said as she saw the babe being laid in its mother's arms. The babe didn't have Valyrian coloring; he had Alicent's red-brown hair. But his eyes were most interesting. Both eyes had two different colors; one held Valyrian purple, and the other had Aemon's grey.
"The Hand, Your Grace, asked for permission to enter," a maid asked. "Give me a moment alone; I want to cherish my son," Alicent said, in awe of the little babe. It was good to see Alicent happy. The girl had been worried for some time. But now, having the babe, she looked smitten. "He's beautiful; I finally have a brother. I hope I smile as hard as you do when I have my own babe in my arms. I couldn't have imagined myself saying so about a year or two ago," Rhaenyra said as she kissed Alicent on the cheek.
"You can feed him if you want. I did as well when Aemon and Visenya were born," she said to Alicent. "How?" Alicent Questioned. "Well, let's get those breasts out, and let's see if this little one wants milk from his mother. Your milk should start flowing with stimulation." Then she remembered a rather embarrassing situation with Baelon, 'two or one moons after Aemon's birth. She and Baelon were in a bout of lovemaking when her milk began to flow as he touched them.' She thought embarrassed.
"Goodmother, everything all right? You seemed lost for a moment," Alicent questioned. "Sorry, just thought of Baelon, of something that happened in the past," she said with a smile.
"Oh, seeing your face, goodmother, I suppose you would rather keep it to yourself," Rhaenyra said with a smirk. "Come, let's help Alicent. Feed her babe," she gestured quickly, helping Alicent lower the top of her gown. The right breast was exposed, and she held it for Alicent to help the babe find the nipple. Not much later, the little babe started drinking. "He is doing it," Alicent said happily. "Well done; shall we let your father in?" Alicent nodded. "I shall get my stepson," she said, kissing Alicent on the cheek before she left.
"Ah, Lord Hand, congratulations; you have a grandson," she said to Otto Hightower, and a bright smirk graced his face. "Yes, wonderful news, is it not? A son for the King," Otto said with a smirk. "Yes, great news, one as well for your daughter," she said. 'If only you knew the truth, she might hope Otto's heart would stop beating from the shock. But now, telling the secret of the babe's true parentage wouldn't solve that problem. Her son and she knew the truth and what would happen; she couldn't say the same for someone from another house who would take Alicent place. Except for her own daughter, but what would stop Viserys from changing his mind if another woman seduced him like Alicent more or less had done?' She wondered as she looked at the Hand.
"Well, let's enjoy this moment of joy. I shall see the King informed of his son's birth," she said, walking past Otto to the King's chamber.
Alicent Hightower (107 A.C. Tenth Moon)
Kingslanding – Alicent Chambers.
She was tired and somewhat fearful when Lyanna left. Lyanna had been a pillar for her during the pregnancy and the birth. With her mother no longer around, it was a loss of someone she could have really used at the moment. Lyanna had been like a mother to her, and Rhaenyra's support and words had lifted her spirit.
When she looked at her son, she saw Aemon in him. He had her hair and yet eyes, one the purple of House Targaryen and the other the Grey of Aemon. She felt relief; what would have been the explanation if the babe had black-brown hair like Lyanna? But no, her child had her hair, and he looked beautiful and content at her breast as he suckled. 'Aemon, I hope one day you can see your son.' She thought wistfully.
"Daughter, I heard the wonderful news. Well done," her father said, breaking her out over the calmness of her thoughts as he walked toward the bed. She just nodded, wondering what he wanted from her now. "A boy, the king will be pleased."
"Yes, Ser Otto, I suppose my father will be. Alicent has done well; she has given me a brother. He may not be Baelon, but I will love him all the same," Rhaenyra said, smiling but with a hint of hardness in her voice toward her father.
"I'm pleased to hear it, Princess. It's good for siblings to get along," her father said in his kind-but-not-telling-the-truth voice. She had learned to recognize it; she could now hear the subtle tone difference in his words.
"Yes, as long as he is healthy and around family, I'm content," she added. She wasn't in the mood for a squabble between the two. "Yes, indeed, sister, I suppose you are. That's all that matters. Let me know when I can take my brother for a dragon ride," Rhaenyra said as she kissed her on the cheek and walked away with a smirk.
"Hmm, a pity he doesn't have the most Valyrian look. At least his eyes are Targaryen. It seems his grandmother's complexion has given him the eyes." 'Why would he say that? Can't he just be happy that I and the child are safe?' She wondered, irritated.
"Yes, indeed, my husband's mother had much the same. Two eyes with both a different color," she nodded in agreement. She was tired; she just wanted to enjoy her son, with thoughts of the man who was his father.
Then, the servants and maids in the room bowed as her husband and King walked in. "Your grace, wonderful news, is it not? You have a son," her father said quickly with a bow. "Yes, wonderful news," Viserys said as he walked toward her. She swallowed hard and wondered if he would see Aemon in the boy. "Ah, a wonderful child. He has your hair, dear wife," he said, holding her cheek and kissing her softly on the lips. She kissed him back, doing her duty.
"He has my mother's eyes, doesn't he? I have pondered on the name. I have not yet come up with one," Viserys said as he sat beside her on the bed.
"Your grace, if I may, I might have a name for your son," her father spoke then, and Viserys nodded. "Aegon, what about Aegon? A strong name. Also, it has been some time since a boy has been named Aegon." She tried to hold her grimace; did she not have a say in naming her child?
"Yes, Aegon is a strong name for a strong boy," Viserys said, leaving no room for argument, as he got up. "Rest now, dear wife. It's more than time for that, don't you think? Let the realm know that Aegon Targaryen has been born."Viserys announced. Well, here was her son's name, Aegon, firstborn son of Aemon Targaryen. Yes, she liked it that way. He was hers, and perhaps, if the gods were kind, Aemon could be involved in his life in the future.
Laena Velaryon Targaryen ( 107 A.C. Tenth Moon)
Driftmark – High Tide – Hall of Nine.
She sat beside her mother while she held court for those on the Isle of Driftmark. She listened to what her mother decided and the reasons why she chose it. Ruling Driftmark beside her mother had been intriguing. She had been educated before, learning to manage the castle's household, but what her mother and she were doing now was different. She was now learning the art of rulership, a rather tedious process. She understood now Aemon's brooding face when he was working at managing either of his domains. Choosing what to do and who to side with was difficult.
The art of rulership was a balance she had to learn. To wield either would rise to it or fall on her face. One had to choose to be firm or forgiving in approach. You couldn't always be right in every situation; sometimes, you had to let go when you made your decisions. You only had to stand by it, or people and yourself would start to feel doubt. Doubt was the fear from where many mistakes came.
Driftmark and High Tide's trade and activities had increased, and the Isle had always been busy due to trade. But with the supplies being sent into the Stepstones, the war was costing a lot of gold. However, it was manageable with the crown, her house, and Aemon's contribution. Or so her mother told her when discussing the financing of Driftmark and the war. Yet whenever the war was brought up, she wanted to see her husband again. Every damn letter sent, she feared for the worst, but every time there was no word of her husband's passing.
Her thoughts were pulled away toward Maester Halig. "My Princess, there has been a raven from King's Landing." He gave her mother the scroll, and she opened it. Her mother's eyes shot up, and she laid the scroll down beside her.
"I have an announcement to make: our Queen Lady Alicent has given birth to a healthy boy. Aegon Targaryen has been given to the boy, a great day for the kingdoms," her mother said in an even tone. So Alicent had given birth to a son. She wondered what her first child with Aemon would be, a boy or a girl.
After the announcement, the court continued for another while before ending. She followed her mother to the solar of her father, where they discussed the day's events. She sat down in the chair in front of the desk.
"Well, it seems the realm has a new prince. It will cause murmurs, my daughter, you know that. Aemon isn't the King's firstborn son. On top of that, he is a thirdborn son. Even if the proclamation of his crowning as heir has been written down, the realm might not accept your husband as an heir. He isn't in line for the crown only after Aegon, Daemon, and even Rhaenyra if the lords would accept a woman to rule." Her mother said, nodded in response. 'Why did the man not marry Visenya? Visenya would never usurper Aemon. Yet would Alicent, she was in love with her has a husband.' She wondered.
"Mother, I don't expect Alicent to act on her son's behalf. She loves Aemon, Rhaenyra told me herself." Her mother snorted at that. "Please, daughter, Alicent Hightower is Otto Hightower's creature, even if she loves your husband, which I doubt. Otto Hightower will plot to put his grandson on the throne. He also clings desperately to the succession laws of Westeros. Him being a second son, of duty and faith."
"You are saying they might push for Aegon to be the next King? We have a signed doctrine by the King, and the lords around the realm have sworn their loyalty to him and Viserys. The succession should be as it is," she said to her mother. But when she thought of what Aemon had said...
'The lords of the realm don't like change. I'm heir for now because of Daemon's mistake. I'm a third son; what would other lords and children say if a thirdborn becomes King? They won't like the change, and then there is the faith in our marriages, which isn't something that is accepted easily. This High Septon might have been willing to accept it, but who is to say the next one will?'
"Lords of the realm, or at least most of them, do all for wealth, power, and prestige and will do to keep it or increase it. Daughter, your father is one of them. Do you think he wasn't wrathful when the King also wanted to marry his daughter to Aemon? Aemon was the heir; you would be the Queen, and now you are a queen. Still, Aemon made the best of the situation by drafting the will. Depending on who of the both of you will produce a son first, as we women will not sit the Iron Throne. Your daughter or son will marry Rhaenyra's daughter or son, making it ironclad blood. Velaryon will sit on the throne, no matter what. The same goes for Seadragon Point. Corlys made that agreement with Aemon Separately, and he agreed," her mother said in response.
"I know, Mother, it is a good treaty for our family and me. I know Aemon, and he wouldn't neglect one for the other, so I don't fear conflict with Rhaenyra. I just want him to return," she said, her voice with some melancholy.
"I know you miss him. I understand better than most, or did you forget who your father was." She shook her head. " Daughter, it will be our duty to stay behind, and perhaps, in a year, if your training is more complete. You can join your husband; we are dragon riders, after all." Her mother said with a smile.
"Yes, I will try and inspire you to be like my mother and my other ancestors, trained in the ways of the sword," she said with a smile.
Arch-Keeper Dussard (107 A.C. Elventh Moon)
Black Citadel - Seadragon Point.
'He was old, 45 years and counting, Arch-Keeper of the Black Citadel, and it had been the honor of his life. He was learning the higher mysteries and keeping the magic of the world alive, teaching the arts of healing, writing, and reading to the people who came seeking sanctuary. All were Beholden to a blood-oath to protect magic and all its glory, trying to find the truth to things, not destroy it like the maesters. He was of the North, and they still held to sense and truth in the North. His oath to the truth and Aemon Targaryen had reignited that fire in his heart. The boy had rediscovered Valyrian steel and more old secrets.' He thought happily as he looked out the window at the Seadragon Keep. The first Westorishi-Valyrian Keep ever built, not even Aegon had the knowledge of what was now before his eyes.
"Arch-Keeper, an eagle from Prince Aemon has arrived." His personal scribtor Artos, announced as he walked into his study. 'Wonderful. He hadn't seen Aemon in two years, and they had kept in contact with each other as much as they could. The Eagle was a new form of transportation for messages that had been used and tested in the North. So far, it was a success; the eagles were similar to ravens but had a higher chance of surviving. Also, the birds were extremely loyal to the ones that raised them. Although it was still early, it was something that still had to be expanded; if one, the Citadel could be toppled. Although they had built slowly, as again, too much influence and knowledge would alert the Citadel.
But the Black Citadel was built with Black Valyrian Stone. Its foundation was on the southern side at the mouth of the dragon beside the castle's dockyard. The Citadel itself wasn't complete; of the many levels he and Aemon had designed with other architects, formed across the North and Essos. Two were complete, but many levels were still to be built. He hoped he could see it completed one day if the old gods were so kind. The Citadel itself was a second keep in Seadragon Point itself, surrounded by a wall of Drakestone. They even had their own warriors to protect the Citadel - the Watchers of Truth, a small hint toward the Watchers on the Wall. They were loyal to the Black Citadel and House Targaryen, above all, housed in a barrack inside the walls of the Citadel that could hold up to 250 men at a time.
He smiled as he looked at everything that had been built in these past six years. He wondered what this place would look like in a hundred years.' Then, his thoughts were drawn back to Artos, who handed him the messages from Aemon. "So, Aemon, what do you want? Thank you, Artos. I'll let you know if I need more assistance." The man nodded and left his solar, where the Arch-Keeper was stationed.
To Arch-Keeper Dussard,
My friend, the war in the Stepstones has gone as we had hoped. The Isle of Sunstone and the Grey Gallows have fallen. We have lost ships and men as expected, but it seems the sight of the Black Dread has broken much of the Triarch's resolve. The dread does inspire fear, but soon, they will feel a major blow.
Little Tyrosh shall fall to our ships and will grant us major supply up in the region. It's a bold move for sure, as it isn't taking what would allow for better up. As the smaller Tyrosh city, and with Balerion, it would fall quicker than the rocky outcrops of the Stepstones. The main reasons why the blockade was implemented. The bogey fighting, with hidden ways, would cause months of fighting.
I want as many scribtors who are experienced in the art of healing to be sent over. The wounded are increasing at a steady pace, and I'm worried about our subsequent offensives. It will be overrun, and we will have to choose who we save. Send them with the five ships; I want five to remain in Seadragon Point. I don't want those Ironborn to get any stupid ideas.
For more, I hope your duties as Arch-Keeper are still to your liking. I know I asked it and would accept it, but I hope at least one of us does something he is good at and likes it. This war, my friend, I have killed men before but on Balerion, in the sands, or on deck with my men. It all feels more real, and killing a man is something that never should come easy. Although in war, and doing it longer, you start to bother less, and the brutality begins to fade, and it becomes butcher's work. Perhaps that's why some men and women break and become butchers. I suppose when I return, it will be something to let go of the ghost of war.
I ask now as a future promise; I want you to attend my wedding in Winterfell. When I wed my loves for the last time, in the Godswood of my ancestors, it would be good to see you again, speak, and work together as in the days when I still only was to be the Lord of Seadragon Point. Be well, my friend.
Your liege and friend, Aemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, Lord of Seadragon Point, and Heir to the Iron Throne.
'Aemon, I will be there. Let's just hope you survive this war, and I can meet the people who have made your life all the brighter.' He thought hopefully.
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