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43. Aenys VIII / Aegon II
🕑 Added 2024-12-08 16:02:33 +0000 UTCOk fellas, I got some notes before this chapter so please read. First comes first, I want to thank Tertius711 for his help with this chapter, if you all haven't checked it out already, his new fic, Divide and Conquer, is awesome and I totally recommend giving it a read. Now onto more news related to this fic, I apologize for all the delays. My life has been incredibly busy lately, but hopefully I can kind of lock in from here. I plan for the next chapter to be out in 2 weeks, like my usual update time, but we will have to see how my life goes regarding work. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please let me know your thoughts in the comments!
Aenys VIII
37AC
“I have to go!” Aenys yelled as he threw himself in Quicksilver’s direction. He did not really move in that direction, however, as he was held back by an overly strong arm preventing his movement.
“You have to calm down,” his little brother said behind him, one hand around his wrist. Maegor was so strong as to be able to hold Aenys in place with a single hand.
“Calm down!? Our father just had a stroke, Maegor! I do not know if he is dead or alive!” Aenys said frantically, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. The letter was his wife’s penmanship, her distraught could clearly be seen in the shaky words.
“I know that!” Maegor responded, clearly unhappy but nowhere near as pained as Aenys. ‘Does he not care?’ Aenys thought. He knew that Maegor was not pleased with their father but surely he did not hate him so much as to feel nothing at his death.
“Then how dare you tell me to calm down!” Aenys yelled, for the first time in what felt like a long time. He disliked raising his voice generally. He rarely needed to as well, so he simply did not.
“How dare I? Aenys look at your fucking situation you brainless fool!” Maegor said as he grabbed him harshly by the collar with his other hand, lifting Aenys to his toes.
“I-” Aenys started before Maegor cut him off.
“Our father is in all likelihood dead, and while you frantically yell and dance around like a chicken with your head cut off. What are your children feeling?” Maegor spat at him and Aenys was suddenly brought down to earth.
“Oh gods,” Aenys thought aloud. The moment he heard the news, he ran for his dragon. He had not even thought about what his children were thinking, he didn’t even know where they were.
“Yeah, ‘Oh gods’, fucking dumbass,” Maegor whispered the last words to himself but they stung all the same.
“W-where are they?” Aenys stammered as Maegor set him back down. Aenys forgot how physically imposing his brother could be, he was probably twice as heavy as Aenys and half a head taller than him.
“I do not know, I followed you here. If I had to guess, they are still with my mother and wife,” Maegor said dismissively.
“Either way, we need to go,” Aenys said as he turned from his dragon and back toward the manse.
“We?” he asked, confused.
“Of course, come on!” Aenys said as he ran back back into the manse.
Aenys ran down the hall and ran right back into the dining hall he had just left to find it a scene of chaos. His two eldest were hugging and Rhaena was bawling her eyes out. Meanwhile, Maegor’s children were huddled in the other corner, also crying.
“Aegon, Rhaena!” Aenys said as he ran up and brought his two children into a hug. He had made a huge mistake leaving them. He should have stayed with them, Maegor was right. He was a dumbass.
“Father!” Rhaena sobbed and Aegon yelled, hugging his shirt and wailing into it. Aenys brought his arms around to embrace them as hard as he could. This was absolutely not what he wanted to hear or deal with, but he had to choice.
“I would advise against flying in the night, but if you are going to do so. You ought to be prepared at least, I will have the servants prepare your riding leathers,” Maegor said, interrupting the sobs of his children.
“Prepare your own as well, Brother,” Aenys said in a heartbeat before turning to look at his children.
“Rhaena, go get out of your dress and get ready. We are leaving as soon as possible,” Aenys said to his daughter, but before she could run out of the hall to go and do that. Maegor stopped her in the same way he stopped Aenys, a single hand wrapped around his daughter’s wrist.
“Wha? Let go!” Rhaena said pounding at her uncle’s hand but he stopped her.
“Dreamfyre is in no state to make the night journey, she barely made it here with full vision and rest. Rhaena ought to ride with you and Aegon on Quicksilver. Dreamfyre can follow behind,” Maegor said and Aenys hesitantly nodded as Maegor let Rhaena go before he walked over to his own children.
“Go get dressed you two,” Aenys told his children and they both nodded their tear-stricken eyes and ran out of the hall.
Aenys meanwhile looked as his brother comforted his own sobbing family. Aenys even thought he saw tears brimming in his aunt’s eyes. Aenys mustered his courage for a bit before walking over to them.
“Y-you… all ought to prepare your things too,” Aenys said through his own shaky voice. It was setting in now, his father was in all likelihood dead.
“All of us?” Maegor seemed confused again, stoking some rare rage from Aenys.
“Yes, all of you! I need you in Westeros, Brother,” Aenys said with all the authority he could muster. He knew his brother would be hesitant, given just how much he was dealing with here in Essos. But he needed his brother if his father was truly dead. He would ascend the throne if it were true, and he would need all the help he could get.
“...Very well,” Maegor said, turning to his wife and mother who nodded readily, no real words needed.
“Shiera, you, Visenya, and Daenys will ride with me. Mother, can you take Daeron and Baelon?” he asked, his voice much too calm for the situation.
“Of course,” they said in unison before they also made their way toward the doors. At the very least eight people needed to get changed before they could even think of leaving. The dragons would be very packed after all.
“Are you sure you want me to come back with you, Brother?” Maegor asked him before Aenys made his way out of the hall and toward his own room.
“Of course, Brother! I need you, and your family should be there for our father, whether he is alive or dead,” Aenys exclaimed.
“...Very well,” Maegor said once more, still bothered by something. Aenys resolved to speak with him later on Dragonstone about it.
…
The secluded hilltop Aenys was on would have been an excellent place under normal circumstances. Aenys was always told that his mother loved coming to places like this with Meraxes. She would lie down on her great wings and read while basking in the sun, but she did that no longer, and now he could not even ask his father for more stories of her.
His father’s funeral pyre laid before him, and Aenys was well and truly at a loss for words. When he left Dragonstone two moons prior, to attend the birth of what he now knew would be his last niece, he never could have imagined he would never see his father alive again.
King Aegon of House Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Shield of his People, and Protector of the Realm died on the 5th day of the 3rd moon, 37 years after his conquest of Westeros at the age of three and sixty. He died while speaking to Aenys’s son Viserys, according to his devastated son, he was speaking of his great conquest of the Riverlands when he suddenly keeled over and died on the spot.
Quiet sobs rolled through the small crowd assembled, which was made of strictly of close friends and family. To Aenys’s right was his family, his wife Alyssa, his eldest daughter Rhaena, his eldest son Aegon, his second son Viserys, his third son Jaehaerys, and his youngest child Alysanne was being held by his wife. To their right sat all of House Velaryon, from the head of the house and his goodfather Lord Aethan to the most distant branch family. To their right sat Houses Celtigar and the heads of the other Blackwater Bay houses, the very first nobles his father commanded.
Meanwhile, on his left was his brother’s family. First was his little brother Maegor, then was his aunt, the now Queen Dowager Visenya, then Lady Shiera Qoherys and her children, Daeron Targaryen, Baelon Targaryen, Visenya Targaryen, and Daenys Targaryen. All of House Targaryen stood in attendance, even if none of them wished for this inevitable day to come to pass.
It was customary for Targaryen burials to be in this fashion. Dragonlords were cremated with Dragonfire from the days of the first Ghiscari Wars all the way to the present day, and his father would be no different. In his funeral pyre were countless artifacts and treasures from his life, treasured jewelry, books, paintings, favorite foods, and even his father’s sword Blackfyre was still with him, clasped firmly in his hands.
“Vhagar” “Quicksilver” “Terrax” three voices rang out over the quiet sobs, from his aunt, himself, and his younger brother.
It was typically expected for one's own dragon to be used to burn the body after death, but Aenys was not willing to test the mourning Balerion, and he would not force his eldest son to claim the beast before he was ready.
A bond between a rider and a dragon was special, especially one that lasted as long as his father’s did. His father rode Balerion for nearly fifty years, and it was customary to allow both the family and the dragon time to mourn before attempting another claiming. So instead of Balerion, it would be Vhagar, Terrax, and Quicksilver who would light his father’s pyre.
“Dracarys,” the three whispered, just loudly enough to be heard before the three colossal dragons all released their colorful flames. Bronze, white, and green soon swirled around the body of his deceased father, lighting the wood beneath him and the clothes adorning his body. Aenys heard his family all whisper their goodbyes to their grandfather before Aenys’s own tears began to fall.
He knew this day would arrive someday, there would be a time when his father died and he would no longer have him around, but he never thought it would be so soon. House Targaryen tended to live long lives, at least compared to most normal people, on account of their good health and bonds with dragons. Yet his Grandfather did not even make it to four and sixty. ‘Much too young,’ Aenys thought as he turned to glance at his family, all of whom were now bawling their eyes out, even little Jaehaerys and Alysanne.
The crowd watched on in silence as his father’s body burned away with the pyre, the whole structure turning into ash. The flames burned for almost half an hour according to his Pentoshi “watch” and the crowd finally began to disperse as the flames dissipated.
First to go were the heads of the Blackwater Bay Houses, Sunglass, Massey, and Bar Emmon. Each wished him well and swore their loyalty as they made their way back down to the town below the low hill they had chosen for the funeral.
Then Houses Celtigar and the lesser members of House Velaryon took their leave, wishing the same wellness onto him and his family as their Andal peers. During all of this, his aunt approached the still lightly burning fire with a clay pot in hand. She scooped up some of the ashes in the prepared pot and then his goodfather Aethan arrived to speak with him.
“I am sorry for your loss, Your Grace. King Aegon will be remembered fondly for as long as men can remember,” he said with a bow and Aenys nearly recoiled at his words. ‘Your Grace,’ Aenys thought with a scowl. He supposed he was King now, even if he had neither been crowned nor anointed by the High Septon.
“Indeed, Lord Aethan. Thank you for your kind words,” Aenys said with a firm pat on his shoulder. Truth be told, he did not really know how to act, he was still trying to figure out exactly what was going to happen.
As the rest of House Velaryon departed, it was Aenys’s own family that confronted him next. Rhaena, Aegon, Alyssa, and Viserys all wrapped Aenys into a tight hug and Aenys could do little else but hug them back as more tears flowed from their eyes.
“It will be alright,” Aenys whispered, desperate that he was correct.
“What is going to happen now?” Aegon mumbled into Aenys’s chest and Aenys squeezed his son tighter.
“We will all figure it out, together,” Aenys said as he lifted his head and noticed his brother approaching the still-smoking pyre, just as his mother did. Yet Maegor did not scoop ashes into a pot, as was customary for their house. Instead, he lifted Blackfyre and his father’s crown from the ash pile and made his way over to Aenys.
The blade looked darker in Maegor’s hand, but otherwise, he could notice no damage or other changes to his father’s blade. Aenys’s family let go of him as his not-so-little brother approached. Maegor looked imposing in his armor, which he still wore even now. Had Aenys not known better, Maegor could easily be confused for an enemy.
Yet that was not the case, as his brother stood right before him and presented the sword and crown to Aenys. Maegor did not kneel, but the gesture of returning them to him was appreciated.
“Keep it,” Aenys said while gesturing to Blackfyre. Meanwhile, his entire family looked at him and fell into a stunned silence.
“Pardon?” Maegor said in an indistinguishable tone. Aenys dearly hoped that his brother was at least a little upset at their father’s death, but from what he could glean, that may not be the case.
“You are far more capable than me, Valonqar,” Aenys said as he took his father’s crown from his brother’s hand.
Maegor looked apprehensive but not shocked at what he said, which was completely unlike what the rest of Aenys’s and Maegor’s families looked like. Alyssa and Shiera looked stunned, while Visenya looked on suspiciously. Aenys could not exactly tell the look on his children’s faces.
“Brother, I have asked you of this once already, but I shall ask again. Stay here in Westeros, rule with me, and that blade is yours,” Aenys said with all the confidence he could muster. This was his play, surely his brother would accept this deal, there was no way he would turn down the chance to wield Blackfyre.
Maegor lifted the sword with a single hand to his face, looking intently at the blade and Aenys thought he had gotten his brother with his plan. He could care less about Blackfyre, he would much rather have his brother rule with him than have a single blade, but Aenys was wrong.
“No,” Maegor said suddenly, lowering the blade back down and pushing the flat of the handle into Aenys’s chest.
“Huh?” Aenys said, stunned. ‘Why would he turn it down?’ Aenys thought with a gobsmacked expression plastered on his face.
“If you do not want your blade, then give it to your son and heir. Father no doubt wanted this blade to go to you, and I will not rule here with you,” Maegor said, pushing the handle of Blackfyre further into Aenys’s chance before Aenys had no choice but to take hold of it.
“B-but Brother!” Aenys said quickly, he did not understand, his plan should have worked on anyone.
“I already told you, I will help you, but I have obligations of my own,” Maegor said and Aenys looked at his feet. ‘Damn it all,’ Aenys thought with his hands clenched tightly around his father’s crown and sword.
“Now let us go, we have work to do,” Maegor said suddenly and moved to rejoin his family, who quickly descended into a torrent of whispers and questions once he arrived there, which his family soon did as well.
“Father?!” “Aenys?!” his children and wife said suddenly and shocked Aenys out of his stupor.
“What?” Aenys asked downtrodden, he so deeply believed that would work, but how was he to rule without his brother at his side?
“Father you cannot just give away Blackfyre!” Aegon complained and Aenys suddenly felt bad, he did suppose his son would want his father’s sword, especially a Valyrian Steel one like Blackfyre.
“Especially to a foreign Lord!” Alyssa emphasized and Aenys narrowed his eyes at her. Was she that daft? He wouldn’t be a foreign lord if he took the sword, which was the entire point. He wanted his brother to rejoin him here in Westeros. They were already working to reunite their split houses and Maegor returning to Dragonstone full-time was the next step.
“I will hear no more of this,” he spoke more to his wife than his son but both quit talking immediately as they all made their way down the hill, not too far behind Maegor and his family.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. His father’s ashes were interned in Dragonstone. He was crowned by the Grand Maester, with his own crown, of course, he could not bring himself to wear his father’s crown. A grand funeral feast was held with all the Blackwater Bay nobles in attendance. Then everyone dispersed to their separate bedchambers, including Aenys and his wife.
“I am so so sorry, darling,” Alyssa said suddenly as the door to their room was closed and they were granted privacy.
“Thank you, Alyssa,” Aenys said as he returned the hug. He ought to be the one apologizing to her, she had been the one who had to deal with the initial fallout of his father’s death all alone because he was in Pentos.
“Of course, do you want to do anything?” Alyssa said as she batted her silver eyelashes at him. Aenys absolutely felt the pull of an alluring woman’s beauty, but he turned her down.
“Nothing tonight, dear,” he said with a raised hand, he had too much to worry about and think about to enjoy some fun with his wife at that time.
“Very well,” Alyssa said, but she did not lie down in the bed and get ready for sleep, instead she remained astute.
“Alyssa?” Aenys asked with a raised eyebrow. Normally his wife was not so forceful in her efforts to lure him into some fun.
“Husband… what were you doing with Blackfyre earlier?” Alyssa asked and Aenys wished to sigh before he realized he never actually explained his plan to her.
“I… I have always wanted my brother to rule with me, as my Hand and fellow son of Aegon the Conqueror. Yet he has been irreversibly sucked into the quarrels of Essos, and now I fear that I may never achieve that dream,” Aenys said with a frown. He and his brother were both sons of Aegon the Dragon, they were family, and they ought to rule together just as the Valyrians of Old did. Hells, even Lord Maegon Targaryen ruled Dragonstone with his brother Aerys at his side.
Aenys dearly regretted not fighting for his brother more now, all those years ago when he was first banished. If he had fought harder and made a stand to support his brother and his decision, he could have convinced his father, and everything would be better than it was now.
“Aenys…” Alyssa began, and Aenys thought he was about to hear more of her paranoid drivel, but he was met with a different message.
“Fate may have taken away that possibility, but you need not rule alone if that is what you fear. Your son is nearly of age, as is your eldest daughter. My family remains fiercely loyal and will heed your every command. Besides, has Maegor not already offered to help you?” Alyssa said and Aenys was pleasantly surprised, even if that was not what he wanted to hear.
“It is different than that, Alyssa. I do not think my father ever told you this, but he wanted me to bring Maegor back. To bring him into the fold and reunite our fraying branches,” Aenys said and Alyssa looked a little confused, which he could not blame her for. She was not there to speak with him.
It was a few moons after Shiera arrived, during the last stand of Braavos and the Faceless Men. His father called Aenys to speak privately about ‘Targaryen matters’ and Aenys still mulled over the words he shared with him to this day.
“What do you think of your nephews, Aenys?” His father asked him, and Aenys had a million different answers for his father.
“They are wonderful little Targaryens, why do you ask?” he gushed, he had deliberately tried to spend a lot of time with his nephews and youngest child Daeron. They had been explicitly placed in the same nursery in the hopes that they would bond. He also tasked his son with spending time with Viserys and Daeron, and his daughter with getting to know Shiera better.
“Indeed, they are Targaryens, and yet this island is not their home,” his father said and Aenys could not help but frown as well. It technically ought to be, had Aenys gotten his way. Maegor would have never been banished and would have instead been confined to this island as punishment.
“They will always be welcome here,” Aenys tried to offer, he of course knew that he had every intention of bringing his brother and his family home, and his father knew too, but he still did not like discussing it in front of him.
“That is not sufficient and you know it,” his father said with a stern glare, cowing Aenys into silence.
“I have erred greatly in my life in a great many ways, and as much as I loathe to leave my troubles to you Aenys, I cannot help it,” his father said with a sigh and Aenys raised an eyebrow.
“Father?” Aenys offered, confused.
“Two wives, two sons, and now two branches of House Targaryen,” his father lamented, and Aenys could only grow more confused.
“If this is such a concern for you Father, why not bring Maegor home?” Aenys chanced again, he knew he was not supposed to bring up up again, but maybe he could convince his father after all.
“I cannot. How can I face a son who spat in my face, disregarded my commands, and then chose exile with his wife over life with us,” his father said through grit teeth and Aenys was cowed back into silence.
“But you can, Aenys. You can bring them home, you can arrange betrothals between your house and his, you can bring House Targaryen back together,” his father said with an energy that was uncommon at his advancing age.
“What?” Aenys thought aloud, confused by his father’s change in demeanor.
“I have erred greatly, Aenys. I should have done so much differently, I should have solved this problem before it became one,” his father said before grasping Aenys by the shoulders.
“Listen to me Aenys, House Targaryen cannot stand divided against itself. When I am gone, swear to me that you will do everything in your power to unite our house once more. Bring it together instead of tearing it apart further,” his father demanded and Aenys was quick to oblige.
“Of course, I swear it, Father,” Aenys promised and he wholeheartedly meant it. He would try whatever he could to bring his brother back.
“Reunite?” Alyssa asked and Aenys momentarily froze. He had totally forgotten to inform his wife of his arranged betrothals…
“Yes, he wanted me to reunite our branches, marriages, political concessions, and bring my brother home,” Aenys said and Alyssa’s face scrunched up before she sighed.
“I suppose we could offer a potential betrothal to Maegor. Jaehaerys does need a bride after all, and while I am confident I can give you another daughter, if you insist,” Alyssa began and Aenys did not have the heart to stop her.
“Maegor has plenty to offer us, perhaps one of his daughters for Jaehaerys along with a substantial dowry? It would do well to bolster our treasury prior to the marriage of our eldest children,” Alyssa continued and Aenys paled further.
“We could even arrange a match between whichever of Maegor’s sons would be without a bride and one of Daemon’s children, as they are our kin as well. Laena, Jaenara, Maegelle, and Naerys would all make fine prospective brides for Prince Baelon,” Alyssa continued with her foolish tirade before Aenys finally stopped her.
“None of that discussion will be necessary, Maegor and I have already come up with a suitable deal for both of us,” Aenys groaned, and then it was Alyssa’s turn to pale at the words of her spouse.
“W-what did you decide?” Alyssa asked, her voice shaky and uncertain.
“Alysanne will marry my nephew Daeron, and Viserys with marry his cousin Visenya,” Aenys said simply before the explosion of anger he was waiting for did arrive, albeit less strongly than he thought it would.
“What?! Aenys! That is far too much!” Alyssa nearly cried, instead of the blindingly hot rage he expected it seemed she was more upset than angry.
“Too much?” Aenys asked with disgust. “No price is too much to bring my brother home,” Aenys snapped but Alyssa was undeterred.
“What of your house’s traditions? Viserys ought to marry Alysanne, just as Rhaena and Aegon shall wed!” Alyssa cried and Aenys shook his head in exasperation.
“The kin matches are suitable here, sibling marriages will, unfortunately, have to become less common now that there are more children to choose from, we must unite our branches. House Targaryen must be united,” Aenys said the same words he had been saying for a little while now. His father made him promise, and Aenys would keep it at any cost.
“You want to give away two of our children to them and Blackfyre!?” Alyssa continued and Aenys both felt extreme confusion and anger.
“Give away? Visenya would be marrying our son, and Alysanne would be marrying the prospective heir of much of Northwestern Essos, Alyssa,” Aenys was getting tired of this talk again, he had been growing more and more tired of his wife’s tirades ever since he first realized she was feuding with his brother and his brother’s wife.
“You would place Maegor’s blood that close to the throne? It does not make sense, Husband!” Alyssa cried once more and Aenys put his foot down.
“It does make sense, Alyssa. If we are to truly unite our branches, and fully reinforce House Targaryen to face the future together, then we must not hold ourselves haughtily higher than our kin. Viserys will bring Maegor’s blood close to the throne, so that Rhaena and Aegon can marry their children to Viserys’s, thus earning Maegor’s family’s loyalty, as their blood will soon be in line for the Iron Throne. Then Alysanne will secure the other way, place our blood on the prospective throne of Essos, my brother already rules an empire there. Uniting our families by blood is the future of our house,” Aenys scolded and Alyssa shrank back, cowed from his anger.
“What of Jaehaerys then?” Alyssa asked and Aenys sighed.
“You have already told me you are confident you can give me another daughter. If you cannot, then we will pursue one of Daemon’s daughters for Jaehaerys,” Aenys reasoned and Alyssa looked mightily unhappy.
“Why did you not seek my counsel first? Do you not trust me?” Alyssa said with sadness and Aenys’s heart sank. He remembered what his brother said about his wife ruling through him but surely there was nothing wrong with having your wife rule with you. That was how his father did it with both of his wives after all.
“Because I saw it as necessary to secure betrothals early before Shiera had the chance to give my brother more daughters as she has done. Now we have betrothals, which I will announce at court soon,” Aenys said and Alyssa frowned further.
“What are the dowries, husband?” Alyssa asked and Aenys loudly sighed, as he knew his wife would throw a fit about it.
“For Viserys, Maegor will be handing over a dowry worthy of a Princess, along with many of his new inventions and the artisans behind their production,” Aenys started with the one he figured would be more tolerable for her before he got to the negative one.
“And for Alysanne?” Alyssa asked and Aenys sighed again.
“Her dowry is Dragonstone, we will hand over no gold, and no other treasures, but the island will be given back to my brother,” Aenys said and Alyssa’s jaw hung slack open.
“What?! Aenys! How can you give up Dragonstone to a foreign kingdom?! That is where the dragons hatch! You would give it to someone else?!” Alyssa shrieked before Aenys’s glare silenced her shrill cries into a mere whimper.
“Because it would not be a foreign state if I could have brought my brother back. Even then, I have secured our continued access to the hatcheries,” Aenys said before Alyssa sucked in a breath to speak once more.
“But that is where the eggs are laid and the dragons hatch! You would depower our family in that way? Remove our rightful monopoly on the hatcheries?”
“Rightful?” Aenys asked and Alyssa rightfully paled.
“It is rightful that the hatcheries be shared, Dragonstone is to be a place open to any and all Targaryens, regardless of their lineage. I would happily give up our monopoly on the eggs if it means we may secure peace and unification with my brother’s family,” Aenys said. He held back his instinct to chastise his wife for presuming to know what House Targaryen needed to do, but he restrained himself.
“Aenys! Please! Let us re-discuss these terms tomorrow. Aegon ought to get Dragonstone as your heir, it is a seat fit for a Crown Prince. I am sure we can convince Maegor with a different dowry,” Alyssa begged but Aenys waved it away.
“I will hear no more of this,” Aenys said before blowing out the candlelight and lying down. He knew his wife was going to raise a fit over his deals, but he was a King now, and he could not be doubting his decisions all the time. He made the right choice. ‘Right, Father?’ Aenys asked in his mind.
…
“So it did not go well,” Maegor said simply after Aenys told him of the happenings last night and Aenys nodded.
“Yes, I imagine she will be upset for quite some time,” Aenys sighed. He had known she would take it poorly but could she seriously not trust him?
“She will get over it,” Maegor said plainly and Aenys raised an eyebrow.
“That reminds me brother, how did your discussion of these terms go with your wife?” Aenys asked, he never got the chance to ask in Essos.
“Not great, but she accepted my judgment, I imagine she will be unhappy for some time but I am certain she will come to accept it. I have little doubt that Viserys and Alysanne will grow into a wonderful prince and princess,” Maegor said with a smile and Aenys offered a weak one in return. He was still feeling uneasy about his brother’s rejection of Blackfyre from the day before.
Blackfyre was the greatest prize that Aenys could give Maegor, besides Dragonstone of course but he already was going to hand over the island. His Father’s sword ought to be wielded by a warrior of equal caliber, of which only Maegor qualified. Aenys was adequate with a sword, but he was not special like Maegor was. Aenys was so certain that Maegor would accept and his plan would work, but his brother proved him wrong.
“Did you ask to meet with me here just to ask me that?” Aenys asked. They were currently alone in the Chamber of the Painted Table. His brother asked to meet with him in the early morning, and Aenys did not really know what to think. He had hoped that his brother changed his mind in the night, but Aenys doubted it.
“No, I promised to help you. So I shall begin doing so,” Maegor said and Aenys raised an eyebrow.
Maegor stood up from his seat and moved around the large map of Westeros, over to Dorne, before placing his hands near the Red Mountains. “I have a feeling that the Dornish will be acting up soon,” Maegor said and Aenys was befuddled.
“What makes you say that? They have barely even raided the marches in over a decade,” Aenys said and Maegor stared him down.
“That is exactly why I think something will happen soon,” Maegor said, pointing to more places from his position at the foot of the Westeros-shaped table.
“Our father united his Kingdom with a mix of his charisma and Balerion. We both know that our father could sway a crowd and was quick to make friends with former enemies, but more importantly, Balerion is without a capable and experienced rider,” Maegor said and Aenys narrowed his eyes.
Both his son and his father’s dragon were mourning. He would not foist his three and ten-name day-old son onto Balerion, he could claim the enormous dragon when he was ready, that is what Aenys had already decided.
“So?” Aenys asked, still wondering what his brother was intending by his message.
“So I believe the Dornish will begin raids again,” Maegor said and Aenys paled. ‘Why?’ Aenys could only think, he wanted nothing to do with Dorne. He well and truly could not care less what that sandy kingdom did.
“W-what are we to do about it?” Aenys asked, dealing with Dorne was the very last thing he wanted to deal with right now.
“I would recommend writing to Orys Baratheon, warn him to stay on his guard,” Maegor said and Aenys hesitantly nodded, he could do that.
“Then…?” Aenys said, he had a lot that needed to be done, and he could not afford to get tied down in Dorne. He still had to get anointed by the High Septon, he had to oversee the construction of the Red Keep, and he also had to prepare for the wedding of his eldest children, as it would be a truly grand wedding, rivaling his own.
“Then we must be prepared to join him should the Dornish cause trouble,” Maegor said simply and Aenys both sighed in relief and fear.
Aenys never once in his life had a love of war. Sure he enjoyed stories of the Conquest, if only to hear of his father and mother’s exploits, but he had less than zero interest in fighting in a war himself. He did not even like participating in tourneys, much less actual combat. So he was both glad his brother was saying he would help and also terrified that his brother just insinuated that they would both be fighting.
“Uhm…” Aenys stammered, unable to tell his brother what he needed to.
“You will be fighting, Aenys. You must show your strength, lest worse conflicts follow,” Maegor said with narrowed eyes, seemingly boring a hole right through Aenys’s face.
“Worse conflicts?” Aenys asked, hoping to escape the first topic.
“Yes, that is why you must fight. More enemies certainly lurk in the grass. So show that you are a dragon and that all snakes should fear you, Dornish or otherwise,” Maegor said and Aenys could only stare at his hands.
Aenys had heard several times from his friends that he was not built for war. His passions were in astronomy, alchemy, and art, not shedding blood or conquest. It had been years since he last trained in the yard, let alone actually fought someone.
Maegor loudly sighed before snapping his fingers to get Aenys’s attention. “Please tell me you are not thinking about going into battle sword in hand?” Maegor asked and Aenys suddenly felt embarrassed. ‘Was that not what he meant?’ Aenys asked himself before Maegor snapped his fingers again.
“You will be fighting on dragonback, Aenys,” Maegor clarified and suddenly his thoughts went to his precious Quicksilver. Thoughts of arrows hitting her beautiful golden wings and a vivid image of a scorpion bolt piercing her eye.
“S-she isn’t built for war, Maegor,” Aenys tried. His mother rode a far larger dragon and she still died in Dorne.
“Bullshit,” he snapped instantly, earning a wince from Aenys. “Your dragon is the fourth largest living dragon. She is easily a quarter the size of Balerion. She is more than capable of fighting,” Maegor said simply and Aenys had no choice but to agree.
“S-sure she is capable, but she has never seen war,” Aenys stammered.
“And she will learn quickly, just as Terrax did, and just like Dreamfyre, Vermithor, Silverwing, and Urrax will one day do,” Maegor said and Aenys could do naught but gnash his teeth.
Maegor placed both of his hands on the table then, and his tone got even more serious. “Aenys,” he said simply.
“Yes?” Aenys returned, not at all pleased with how this conversation was going.
“You must show strength unless you want our children to be fighting your battles for you,” Maegor said and suddenly Aenys felt a well of disgust build up within him. Sure he feared conflict, feared the infinitesimal chance his beloved Quicksilver would meet the same fate as Meraxes, but the thought of his children’s small dragons riding to war disgusted him more.
“A-alright, I will fight,” Aenys finally conceded, and it seemed as if Maegor breathed a sigh of relief.
“Excellent, we will begin training tomorrow, I just have some quick maneuvers to show you. For now, however, there are other matters to attend to,” Maegor said and Aenys readily followed that thought.
“Yes, we have much to do,” Aenys said with a smile. His brother may not be back permanently, and may never be his hand as he ought to be, but he was here now, and Aenys would not let the chance to rule with him pass him by.
_______________________________________________________________
Aegon II
37AC
The hustle and bustle of Dragonstone was something that Aegon was thoroughly used to, even if it was a tad more subdued than he remembered it being. He had spent the last five years on the island after all, it was only natural for him to grow accustomed to it.
He recalled his aunt and father once telling him that the island used to be calm. Devoid of the endless chatter and gossip that came from the presence of the court. Yet this busy and loud Dragonstone was all that Aegon had ever known, so he could only really take their word for it.
Aegon traipsed the halls, going to the destination he had been intending to visit. He had always had a routine as long as he could remember. He would first wake up in his warm, comfortable bed. Then he would make his way to the kitchens or the familial dining room to break his fast depending on how long he slept in. Then he would make his way to the Chamber of the Painted Table, where his grandfather would always be waiting for him.
So Aegon walked the busy halls of Dragonstone with an energy in his step, as he was finally back to his routine. Sure Essos was fun, he got to spend a lot of time with his uncle and cousins after all, but Dragonstone was his home. The halls here were familiar, the people spoke Andal instead of the funny dialect of Valyrian they spoke in Pentos, and his family was here.
As Aegon finally reached the great doors to the Chamber of the Painted Table, he pushed them open with a cavalier disregard, not really realizing just what he was doing. Inside he found his father, who was clearly deep in thought with his uncle and his uncle’s mother. Aegon caught some brief words as he opened the doors but the most glaring sight of all was the lack of his grandfather.
Aegon’s grandfather had always sat in a particular spot at the table, right where King’s Landing was on the map. Yet today, it was his father who sat in that spot, and suddenly Aegon felt all those feelings he had deliberately been avoiding come back to hit him hard.
His grandfather had died, almost three sennights ago. Granted Aegon had only known for four days, but he was still coming to terms with it. He had been trying to stay strong, for his big sister, his little brother Viserys, and his youngest siblings Jaehaerys and Alysanne, but seeing his father in his grandfather’s seat brought out the sadness within Aegon.
“Oh, good morning Aegon,” his father tiredly said, and Aegon could almost see bags under his eyes. His father did not break his fast with him that morning. ‘Did he even go to sleep last night?’ Aegon wondered before his father continued speaking.
“I am terribly sorry, but do you think you could give us some privacy, we are working right now,” his father said with exhaustion clear in his tone and Aegon felt more down than ever, memories of his Grandfather excitedly greeting him every morning with a new story to tell and a new kingly problem to solve flashing into his mind.
“O-oh, alright Father,” Aegon said as he left the room. He wished he could have remained in there. He was to be king one day after all. He should be learning from his elders how to rule, not being shooed away at their convenience.
Aegon suddenly felt the wave of sadness wash over him again. ‘I miss Grandfather,’ he thought while staring at the door. His funeral had been just three days ago, and it had not really hit him until then.
He wanted to talk to someone, to share in his grief, for the last few days he put up as strong of a front as he could, so his sister could cry on his shoulder, so his little brother could hug him and cry, so his father and mother did not need to worry, but he could not help it any longer.
Aegon spun on his heel and made for the Stone Drum, he wanted to speak, to just talk with someone, he hated being stuck in his own mind. ‘Rhaena,’ he thought easily, she had been sleeping in more lately so Aegon was certain she was still in her room.
His sister was perhaps the only other person who could understand his grief. His father and mother grieved in their own way of course, but they had other responsibilities to attend to. Meanwhile, he and his sister did not do much, sure he had his training with Ser Corlys Velaryon, his chosen knight, and she had some ladylike lessons to attend to and her own growing group of ladies in waiting, but it was not the same as the new King and Queen of all Westeros.
So he chose the bedroom of the girl he loved as his destination. Aegon assumed that she was still sleeping, she had been sleeping in more often after all, not that he could blame her. He felt the desire to just lie in bed after their grandfather’s funeral more than once after all. ‘Perhaps she will take me flying,’ Aegon thought with a small smile. He always loved it when she did that, Dreamfyre was not yet big enough to bring both of them far but a few passes around Dragonstone was just the distraction both of them needed.
It was not an overly long walk from the Chamber of the Painted Table to Rhaena’s room, in fact, it only took Aegon a few minutes according to his new handheld Pentoshi clock his uncle got him. The new trinkets that were coming out of Pentos were fascinating, but at the moment all Aegon wanted to do was hug his big sister.
As he approached the door, he noticed Ser Gregor Goode outside of it. His sister’s sworn shield nodded to him as Aegon approached the door. It was not the first time that Aegon had visited his big sister’s room. They had nothing to hide from each other after all, they were to be married in just around two years. When he looked back later, however, Aegon wished he hadn’t opened the door that day, even if it meant living a lie.
He carelessly pushed open the door, expecting to see a mop of silver-gold hair just barely peeking out of the top of the covers. Instead, the sight he saw left him bewildered and speechless.
His sister Rhaena, his betrothed in all but name, the love of his life, and his best friend, was kissing another woman on her bed.
“What?” Aegon was confused, his thoughts not working properly. Why was Rhaena kissing someone else? Why was she kissing a girl? She loved him, didn’t she? Only a few moments later, the two girls stopped and looked at him like a terrified deer during a hunt, and Aegon realized that the woman who had been locking tongues with his sister was her best friend, Samantha Stokeworth.
“Aegon!” his sister suddenly cried, and leaped off the bed and began speaking frantically, not that Aegon was really listening. His Rhaena, the love of his life, was kissing another girl more passionately than she had ever kissed him. Part of him noticed she had started crying and even Samantha Stokeworth had jumped off the bed and looked to be begging forgiveness but Aegon couldn’t hear any of it. The frantic chorus in his mind drowned out everything.
‘How long has she been betraying me?’ a dark voice demanded in his head. Rhaena knew full well that they were betrothed, their mother had said it plainly and simply to both of them hundreds of times by now. He had not pursued anyone else, and would not accept the affections of anyone else. He had thought she was doing the same. He had been wrong.
His heart squeezed in his chest, contracting and crushing until it shattered. Pain beat in his chest and stabbed all over the veins right up to his arms as Aegon’s legs wavered in their strength.
Rhaena’s frantic cries brought the Kingsguard into the room but he paid neither of them any heed, his thoughts racing to Larissa Velaryon. His mother had sent her away suddenly to marry the heir to Tarth two years ago and Aegon had never found out why. Rhaena had never been willing to talk about it. Come to think of it, she had only really started showing him the kind of affection you would expect from a betrothed after Larissa had been sent away…
With a start, the shattered husk of his heart roared. Had the past two years of his life been a lie then? Had Rhaena ever truly loved him? Or had he just been the consolation she had taken after their mother had sent away her first love? She had been playing him like a fiddle for years, wrapping him around her finger like a puppy on a leash. Using him as a shield against their mother’s scrutiny so she could have her dalliances with Samantha Stokeworth and fuck knew who else as she pleased.
Aegon noticed then that Rhaena was squeezing his hands tightly and crying, but when Aegon looked at his sister, the love that had been there only minutes ago was lost in a torrent of rage.
In an instant, Aegon yanked his hands away from her as hard as he could, disgusted, before he turned on his heel and ran. Aegon held his tears strong, doing his best to ignore the painful stabbing in his veins and the crushing beating in his chest. A bubbling cauldron of rage, sadness, and pain boiled and boiled until it overflowed within him as he bounded through the halls, faster than he ever had before.
Aegon heard the steps of the Kingsguard behind him, even in his frantic run, the older men were able to keep up with him easily but he did not care. He had one goal in mind, and when he entered the courtyard, he practically kicked down the door to the stable. His poor horse was exhausted by the time they reached their destination but Aegon could not bring himself to care.
His grandfather had wanted him to be a good man and a strong king. He had seen himself in Aegon and his most beloved wife in his sister and Aegon had wanted nothing more than to honor his grandfather’s expectations. He had tried. He had tried so hard, to be the perfect prince, an example to all of his younger siblings and cousins, his sister’s knight in shining armor. The Aegon to her Rhaenys, but she had broken that, and Aegon didn’t want to feel anything anymore when it hurt so much.
The bronze doors to the pit were only half open, the dragons preferred darkness after all, but Aegon squeezed through the gap with ease, not even waiting for the Dragonkeepers to open the colossal bronze doors.
He pushed past all of them, still holding back tears as he made his way to the largest den in the whole mountain.
“Please wait! My prince! Balerion is still grieving! It is dangerous to try and claim him now!” the old Dragonkeeper begged but Aegon did not care.
“Open the gate,” he ordered, his voice cold and demanding. He would brook no disobedience.
“My prince,” the Dragonkeeper tried protesting again but Aegon’s patience had run thin.
“Open the gate now or you’ll all hang from the rafters on the morrow!” and such was the fury in his voice that the Dragonkeepers quailed and rushed to obey the command of their prince.
As the gates opened, Aegon walked up to his late grandfather’s colossal dragon, feeling far more calm than he had any right to be. A cold wrath burned in him now and he could not be dissuaded.
The enormous black mass that was Balerion stirred at his arrival. Aegon could not clearly make out his figure in the darkness but the sudden appearance of torches behind him illuminated Balerion’s head, the same size as a carriage as it swung around to look at him, with teeth bared.
A guttural growl resounded from the dragon then, loud and deep enough to shake the entire Dragonpit, but Aegon did not cower like the Dragonkeepers had. He stared the Black Dread right in the eye.
Balerion, undeterred, opened his maw and Aegon could see the slightest glow at the back of his throat. Yet Aegon did not cower, he did not retreat. In that moment he didn’t care enough anymore, he would either claim Balerion or die trying.
“Dohaerās!” he shouted with every ounce of will, rage, and pain that he could muster in his voice, feeling his mind strain as he instinctively reached out to the dragon before him, desperate to form a bond that could fill the gaping hole in his heart. He wanted the pain to stop. If he had known just how much it would hurt, he would never have given his heart away.
In an instant, Balerion’s maw closed, and he brought his head closer to Aegon, and the moment his snout touched his hand, he could feel something come to life within him. Resolve swelled into his bones as he ran to Balerion’s side and scrambled up the netting and ropes that hung from his dragon’s neck.
Soon enough he was in the saddle and up ahead he could see the Dragonkeepers had been smart enough to open the great gates of the pit all on their own. Which was good as Aegon urged his dragon forward, just as he had seen his grandfather do countless times.
In no time at all, Balerion was overlooking the cliff’s edge that made up the entrance to the pit, and with all the power and energy that the tiring Aegon had, he roared once more, “Soves!”
Balerion leaped off the cliff edge and flapped his gargantuan wings and with a few fearsome beats they climbed higher and higher into the sky. Away from all the grief, the rage, and the pain. Away from the memories of his dead grandfather and away from her.
As they flew, Aegon couldn’t tell where he ended and Balerion began as their minds melded and the bond solidified and tightened. His feelings became Balerion’s and Balerion’s became his. He could sense the dragon’s fury adding to his as he grew enraged on his behalf and Aegon knew that no matter what happened from now on, Balerion would always have his back like no other ever had and ever would.
When they finally landed, Aegon knew deep down that he was no longer the same person. That boy had died with his grandfather, with his untainted memories of a love that hadn’t betrayed him. Atop Balerion, he had been reborn again and he had never felt more powerful and free.
Comments
Morel
She will have a pov eventually, probably not next chapter tho.
Morel
Hmm, probably not the same, it k will be pulling from lots of targs and historical figures
jose petit
jajjajaja aegon cuck The canon doesn't especific if rhaena is bi or homo a pov of her could be very interesting for the next chapter
Zenokya
I see in the comment on AO3 that you will take inspiration from the canon targ for your character, I hope that Daeron and Baelon will be like Aemon and Baelon. Same for the dragons 🤔
