263 AC
The sun cast a gentle glow over the courtyard in the red keep, bathing the scene in a warm, golden light. Rhaella Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, sat serenely at a table. The delicate aroma of herbal tea filled the air as she engaged in conversation with Grand Maester Pycelle and Maester Corso. Her hand rested protectively on the gentle swell of her belly, a sign of the life growing within her.
Her relationship with Aerys had been improving steadily ever since she had her twins. She noticed the change that had taken place in her brother. They were no means a passionate couple, no. But they've come to terms and settled with the idea of being a married pair. Aerys no longer shamed her by seeking other women. He became kinder and more understanding of her, and raised a goal to be a good example for their children.
"Maester Pycelle, I understand your concerns, but it is my duty as Queen to attend important events, especially the wedding of Tywin and Joanna," Rhaella said, her voice steady yet filled with a hint of frustration. She had made great friends with Joanna these past years and she wanted to be there in support.
Pycelle, his face creased with concern, shook his head slowly. "Your Grace, I must insist. The wedding itself will be taxing. You are almost due, and any undue strain could be harmful to both you and the child."
Maester Corso, equally apprehensive, added, "We only wish for your safety and the health of the royal child. It would be wise to avoid any unnecessary stress and actions."
Rhaella sighed, her eyes reflecting her inner conflict. She understood the maesters' concerns, but her sense of duty and loyalty to her family and the realm weighed heavily on her heart. Before she could respond, the sound of armored footsteps approached.
Ser Barristan Selmy, the epitome of knightly honor and one of the finest swordsman in the realm, bowed deeply before the Queen.
"Your Grace, may I have a moment of your time?" Ser Barristan asked, his voice respectful but urgent.
Rhaella gestured gracefully for him to continue. "Of course, Ser Barristan. What news do you bring?"
Ser Barristan straightened, his expression one of pride and solemnity. "The promising recruits have officially passed their training, Your Grace. They are now ready to swear their loyalties as sworn swords for the princes."
Rhaella's eyes lit up with pride and relief. Her sons, Rhaemon and Rhaegar, were growing stronger and more capable every day. The addition of new knights to their service would ensure their protection and further solidify their positions within the realm.
Rhaella responded to Ser Barristan's news with a stern nod, her piercing gaze steady on the Kingsguard knight. The courtyard fell into a respectful silence, waiting on the Queen.
After a moment, she broke the silence. "Ser Barristan, do you recall how you came to be a member of the Kingsguard?"
The knight, ever humble and respectful, replied promptly, "Yes, Your Grace. It was thanks to your recommendation to King Jaehaerys, a week after the princes were born."
Rhaella sipped her tea thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Barristan. "Do you know why I did it?"
Ser Barristan paused, reflecting on the question before answering honestly, "Forgive me, Your Grace, I do not."
He clearly remembered that few had disapproved of the idea, but now that he had proved himself in the recent war by slaying Maelys I Blackfyre in a single combat, ending the male line of the Blackfyre pretenders, no one dared to question his worthiness his station in the Kingsguard anymore.
A faint smile touched Rhaella's lips. "You left an impression on me when you unhorsed my uncle, Duncan, in a tourney. At first, I wanted you to be assigned as a sworn sword to my son, Rhaemon. But at the last minute, I recommended you to my father as a Kingsguard. Do you know why?"
Barristan's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he remained silent, allowing the queen to continue.
"Because Rhaemon would be king in the future either way," Rhaella confessed. "It was the right choice, especially with the pressing need for new members in the Kingsguard back then. The War of the Ninepenny Kings soon followed, and we needed every capable knight we could muster. Sworn swords could wait."
Barristan nodded in understanding, his respect for the queen deepening. "Thank you, Your Grace, for your support and belief in my skills. I am honored."
Rhaella's gaze softened as she continued, "I am glad you proved your worth in the war, Ser Barristan. I hope these potential recruits for my sons will do the same. You and Ser Gerold have trained them well, I trust?"
The hidden message in her words was clear: she wanted only the best for her sons, and she was relying on Barristan to ensure that the recruits were capable and worthy. The knight understood the gravity of her expectations.
"Your Grace, I assure you, they are ready," Barristan replied firmly. "They have shown great promise and dedication. They will serve your sons well."
"That is wonderful news, Ser Barristan," Rhaella said, a smile gracing her lips.
"Please arrange for a ceremony to be held in the Great Hall. I would like to witness their oaths myself."
Ser Barristan bowed once more. "As you command, Your Grace. I shall see to it immediately."
As Ser Barristan departed to make the necessary arrangements, Queen Rhaella turned back to the maesters, her resolve fortified. "I will heed your counsel and refrain from attending the wedding. My place is here, with my family and my unborn child."
Grand Maester Pycelle and Maester Corso exchanged relieved glances, their expressions softening.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Pycelle said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Your health and the health of your child are of utmost importance."
As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Rhaella's thoughts wandered to the events of the past few years.
Following the Great Tourney at King's Landing, the royal family of King Jaehaerys—her brother-husband Aerys, herself, and her twins, along with Rhaemon's three dragons—relocated to Dragonstone. Meanwhile, her parents, King Jaehaerys and Queen Shaera remained in King's Landing.
During the reign of Jaehaerys, the War of the Ninepenny Kings erupted. This conflict saw the Band of Nine—a coalition of merchants, mercenaries, and pirates from the Free Cities—challenge the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. After the Band of Nine seized the Stepstones, King Jaehaerys II Targaryen, aware of their ambition to conquer the Seven Kingdoms for the last Blackfyre pretender, Maelys I Blackfyre, dispatched an army to the Stepstones to vanquish the foes of the Iron Throne.
Many perished in that war, including the Hand of the King, Lord Ormund Baratheon, and Ser Jason Lannister. Not long after, the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms succumbed to illness together. King Jaehaerys, her father, was already plagued by numerous ailments throughout his life and he died at the young age of thirty-seven, leaving behind a legacy of amiability and cleverness, yet marred by his frailty.
As heir, Prince Aerys Targaryen, alongside herself and their two sons, relocated to King's Landing after his succession to the Iron Throne and the mourning of his father's short-lived reign.
Before King Jaehaerys' demise, he had selected four promising men to be trained alongside the Kingsguard. These men were to reach a level of strength and prowess befitting sworn shields for his grandsons. Jaehaerys was a fair man; he sought no favoritism between the twins—knowing their family history—and decreed that each would have two sworn swords to follow them once they turned five years of age.
Aerys, though differing from his father, intended to honor this decree. Yet, Aerys openly favored Rhaemon, and she knew—he was not alone in this regard. Many lords and ladies of the court preferred Rhaemon over Rhaegar.
It was not difficult to see why. Rhaemon, the firstborn and heir to the Iron Throne, was unique. Rhaella had observed her sons closely over the past four years. Rhaemon, a Dragon lord with three dragons to his name, was immune to fire. And though twins, Rhaemon and Rhaegar were polar opposites. Rhaegar, her sweet baby, was quiet, sensitive, studious, and well-behaved. Rhaemon, on the other hand, was loud, charismatic, energetic, and charming, with clear adorable hate for reading.
Despite their differences, the brothers shared a harmonious bond and Rhaella loved both of them beyond measure. And she dearly hopes that it stays that way in the future.
As the sunlight filtered through the courtyard, casting dappled patterns on the ground, Rhaella turned her attention back to the maesters, her expression clouded with concern. "There is another matter I wish to discuss," she began, her voice tinged with unease. "It concerns Rhaemon and his recent dreams."
Grand Maester Pycelle and Maester Corso exchanged curious glances, their faces attentive, signaling her to go on. Rhaella took a deep breath, recalling the unsettling experience of a fortnight past.
"Rhaemon came to me a fortnight ago," she continued, her gaze distant as she relived the moment. "He spoke of a strange dream he had. Dreams about dragons teaching him how to wield fire. Naturally, I was shocked. I alerted Aerys right away, believing Rhaemon without question. If anyone in our family were to have Dragon dreams, it would be him."
Pycelle's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise, while Corso leaned in, intrigued. "And what did the King say?" Pycelle inquired.
"Aerys believed him as well," Rhaella replied. "We questioned Rhaemon about the dreams, and he claimed he could understand and speak with the dragon in his dream. This was no ordinary prophetic vision, as some Targaryens have had. It is different, something we have no records of interpreting."
Maester Corso rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A different kind of dragon dream, you say? This is indeed unusual. Did Rhaemon describe the dragon in detail?"
Rhaella nodded. "He did. He spoke of a great, ancient dragon, larger than any we have seen, with scales that shimmered like molten gold. The dragon spoke to him, instructed him in the ways of fire. It was as if the dragon were a mentor, a guide."
Pycelle cleared his throat, his voice carrying the weight of years of wisdom. "Your Grace, dreams can be powerful, especially for the Targaryen lineage. However, it is not unheard of for children to have vivid imaginations. We must tread carefully."
Rhaella's eyes sparkled with maternal worry. "I understand, Grand Maester. But I will not brush Rhaemon's dreams away. They were not mere flights of fancy. I believe there is something more to this, something we must understand."
Maester Corso nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Your Grace. We have no choice but to observe and see what unfolds. Rhaemon is still a child. It is possible that as he grows older, these dreams may become more frequent or reveal more about his abilities."
Pycelle added, "For now, we must treat them as dreams, albeit extraordinary ones. If Rhaemon truly possesses the ability to wield fire, it will manifest in due time. Until then, we should document these dreams and monitor his development closely."
Rhaella sighed, her heart heavy with the weight of her son's potential destiny. "Very well. We shall watch and wait. But know this, Maesters: Rhaemon is special, and I believe his dreams hold a deeper significance. We must be prepared for whatever may come."