Servant Ambrosius
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The Red Comet
🕑 Added 2024-03-17 16:48:38 +0000 UTCWesteros, King’s Landing
Tourney Arena
105 AC
Something is wrong, Rhaenyra can feel it. After her father’s announcement the maester had come twice more, each time his expression grimmer than before until eventually her father and Ser Otto Hightower had left the tourney to personally see to her mother’s labors. She would go also but her father had commanded Ser Harrold to keep her here unless summoned. As such all she can do is sit here while attempted, and failing, to enjoy the tourney.
Laena, bless her heart, had attempted to lift her spirit with the latest court gossip and comments on the jousting knights but Rhaenyra cannot bring herself to care about some which Lady has a poorly hidden baby bump or which knight was seen in a scandalous position with someone whom they should not be with.
Unable to simply sit there and wait, Rhaenyra stands from her seat.
“Rhaenyra?” Laena calls as she follows the princess out of the royal stands.
“Princess, the king has ordered you stay away from the queen’s chambers.” says Ser Harrold as he falls into step behind her.
“I am going to visit my uncle, Ser.” Rhaenyra says with a roll of her eyes.
She loves Ser Harrold and respects the Kingsguard, truly she does. Yet at times she finds herself aggravated by their presence. Truly she understands the value of their oaths, yet when their oaths bid them to obey every one of her father’s orders she cannot help but feel stifled.
As she nears her uncle’s tent she finds Aemon, wearing a black chestplate with a helm under his right arm, exit her uncle’s tent.
“Princess.” greets Aemon with a bow and a smile that makes her blush.
“Aemon.” Rhaenyra returns as she fidgets with her dress.
“I hear congratulations are in order.” he says, reminding her of her sense of foreboding.
“Not yet, mother has merely begun her labors.”Rhaenyra replies.
“I see.” says Aemon with a somber tone while looking up at the sky, prompting her to do the same; only for her breath to be taken upon lying eyes on it.
There, suspended in the sky with the brightest of reds is a comet, its tail beginning to trail behind it like a hatchling’s tail.
Looking back at Aemon Rhaenyra cannot help but worry for his eye becomes white and the pupils disappear. He briefly sways on his feet before quickly catching himself and addressing her once more.
The moment passess so fast that Rhaenyra is sure that it is a trick of the light from staring into the comet.
“I would say that I would pray for her but I do not believe in the gods, or rather I should say I do not believe in their benevolence. The gods take just as the gods give.” Aemon says, causing Rhaenyra’s sense of foreboding to flare.
“That is a morbid thing to say, ser.” says Laena with a glare.
“Then forgive me princess, I did not mean any harm.” Aemon says with a bow.
“There is no need ser.” Rhaenyra responds with a gentle smile she does not mean. “I understand why you said it. According to uncle Daemon your mother was lost on the birthing bed, your skepticism is warranted.” she says, receiving a smile in return.
“The princess is gracious.” Aemon says with a bow. “Now forgive me for I must depart in preparation for the melee.”
“Of course.” Rhaenyra says, this time truly smiling, for she looks forward to his performance in the melee; yet despite her excitement Rhaenyra cannot shake the feeling that she will not get to witness his performance.
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Westeros, King’s Landing
The Street of Silk, The Blue Pearl
105 AC
The melee did not take place, and the rest of the tourney was canceled; for that Aemon is somewhat glad. Yet he also wishes that it’s cancelation had not come at the cost of Aemma’s life and the sadness of Rhaenyra. It is a harrowing experience to lose one’s mother, and despite not having been aware enough to remember it himself, Aemon would not wish it on anyone. Still, Aemon cannot be there for Rhaenyra now, for not only do bastards not belong in the Red Keep unless allowed by the king, but he also has more pressing concerns.
“Aemon. Why have you gathered us here, in a brothel of all places when we possess a manse in the city?” asks Daenerys, stopping Aemon in his tracks as he paces around the room.
Night had long fallen, Percy had returned home, and Aemon had gathered sibling in The Blue Pearl for a family meeting as opposed to using their manse which Aegon had procured for them.
“War is afoot, and I do not mean war with the Triarchy.” Aemon says, causing Aegon and Jaehaerys to lean forward in their seats with frowns on their faces.
“War?”questions Aegon.
“Aye, war. Ever since the red comet appeared in the sky I have had a sense of foreboding that I have only experienced twice in my lifetime; once when I learned of Euron Greyjoy and the second when facing the Others.” Aemon explains, making all of them tense.
“Did you… did you perhaps dream of a war?” asks Rhaenys.
“Dream is not the word I would use to describe the experience, visions is more apt.” Aemon says, and the others can feel their hair stand on end.
None of them are dreamers to begin with, and Aemon, the more magically experienced of them all, has never had visions, not truly. That side of magic has always been more elusive. He has seen things throughout the Weirwoods and through flames, but to have multiple visions at the mere sight of a red comet, a comet that is approximately two hundred years ahead of schedule, is unheard of.
“What did you see?” asks Jaehaerys.
“The visions, they are as clear as my memories.” Aemon begins and already the temperature in the room plummets. “Legions of armies assail Westeros, sorcerers of Essos forming a coalition, the dead rise again, and beings from worlds unknown make war with a Westerosi Empire. Eldritch abominations threaten this world and ancient cults long thought buried resurface to threaten the world. The drowned for the drowned god, and the dead for the Great Other.”
As Aemon puts his visions to words the shadows in the room lengthen and the darkness seems to swallow the light. And as he names the Great Other, a freezing wind blows through the streets of Kings Landing, extinguishing all lamps.
“Perhaps you should refrain from naming these Eldritch Abominations.” suggests Aegon as they stand in the darkness.
“It is worse than I thought.” whispers Aemon as he draws Longclaw and a roaring flame lights the blade.
As he gazes into the flaming sword the guttural words of the Old Tongue leaves his lips banishing the darkness in the room and with a roar as he stabs Longclaw into the ground the magic explodes from the sword and engulfs the city of King’s Landing, banishing the cold and the darkness and igniting the lamps once more.
“For Him to briefly exert his influence upon King’s Landing merely with the mention of his name.” Jaehaerys says with a frown. “The situation is much worse than you thought Aemon for not even during our Long Night did he accomplish such a feat.”
“Neither did he do so during my Long Night.” replies Aemon as a chill travels down his spine.
The thought of The Great Other being able to influence an area simply because he was named is a matter that Aemon has never even imagined happening. Even near the end of his Long Night when the Others were at their most powerful did he imagine such a thing to be possible. Not even as he dueled the Night’s King, the corrupted champion of The Great Other, did he ever experience such an anomaly. As such for it to happen now must mean that this version of Westeros is much more magically in tune with magic than any previous one. It means that it would be best to treat this world as a High Fantasy one as opposed to its usual Low Fantasy rating.
“What now?” asks Daenerys.
“Now, Essos is off limits.” Jaehaerys says as he looks towards Aegon. “You cannot continue to trade with Essos, we will have to make do with the trade between Paradis and Westeros.”
Rather answering verbally Aegon simply nods in agreement, a frown clear on his face. Clearly this has upset whatever plans he previously had.
“What does that mean in regards to the war with the Triarchy?” Aegon asks.
“Daemon will participate regardless of our warnings and in fact may become more eager should we warn him off and in this I agree with him and Corlys.” says Rhaenys. “Westeros cannot afford to leave the Triarchy with ownership of The Stepstones. It would hamper trade in the short term and destroy the economy in the long term.”
“Which means that this is a war that we cannot afford to lose regardless of the threat of the sorcerers and witches of Essos. We will merely have to be more vigilant so as not to be captured by them for capture means a fate worse than death.” Daenerys says, and Aemon cannot help but agree.
Should any Targaryen, them especially, be captured by the magical factions of Essos they would be used for any number of fel magic. From blood sacrifices to improve their magic, to magical batteries, and conduits to forcibly control any unclaimed dragon. The thought of the Cannibal, Grey Ghost, or even Vermithor being under the control of any Esssosi sorcerer is not one Aemon wishes to entertain.
He and his siblings could easily kill the mind controlled dragons, but how much of Westeros would burn before the deed is done.
Worse still is if those dragons are sacrificed to summon any number of untold horrors.
“So we join the war in The Stepstones to protect Daemon and Laenor.” Daenerys says.
“Not all of us. At least one must remain in King’s Landing. I would not put it past them to attempt to abduct Rhaenyra or one of Alicent’s spawns.” Rhaenys suggests.
“Aye. Aegon and Daenerys should remain here in case of such an event.” Aemon says “Viserys would be more receptive to the two of you, especially after Daemon’s ‘Heir for a day’ situation.” Aemon adds before Aegon can protest, yet contrary to his expectation Aegon easily accepts, something Aemon quietly makes note of in the back of his mind.
As the siblings continue to plot and converse they act as if they are unaware of the vagrant listening to their conversation while hiding under their window.
Unfortunately for the would-be spy their lack of action is not due to ignorance of his presence, but rather due to his very existence not being a threat to them.
As he slips away from The Blue Pearl, excited to share his findings with his patron, he is unaware of the pair of golden eyes that stalk him through the night, nor of the gruesome fate he is to suffer for his transgression against the lord of the Ladies of the Night.
Come morning there will not even be a corpse to find.
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Essos, Asshai
105 AC
While Melisandre saw hope and opportunity in her visions, the same cannot be said of the majority of her peers.
Most are descendants of factions that have long warred with the dragonlord of old and as such the thought of another golden age heralded by the surviving dragonlords living in Westeros is nothing more than a nightmare to them all.
As such Asshai finds itself in a situation that it has never been since the fall of The Golden Empire of Dawn, a mass exodus of sorcerers, witches, warlocks, shadowbinders, and all manner of magic users congregating in the city for one singular purpose, the destruction of House Targaryen and all affiliated with them.
While Aemon’s appearance can be said to have been the catalyst that will permanently change the course of Planetos’ history, this congregation is the event that will set them all on the course that they have witnessed in their visions. Oh the irony of self-fulfilling prophecies.
Author's Note: Here’s the latest chapter. As usual, what do you guys think?
