Early 99 AC, Kings Landing
Princess Aemma POV
Song and chatter had filled the air in the ballroom of Maegor's Holdfast for hours at an end as the last of the tourneys came to an end in the morn.
Nobles and knights from all over the realm had been all in attendance at this commemorative return feast in Viserys' name. At least in principle, she thought to herself musingly. There was little doubt most had come, if not to participate in the Kings Landing Tourney for fame and glory, then it was to ingratiate themselves with the King and her goodfather Prince Baelon…though it seemed like the Prince might have had the busier day than the King who had not long ago retired to his bedchambers.
Her grandsire, King Jaehaerys was looking older and older as the days passed and from what she had heard, Prince Baelon was more and more taking decisions that the King otherwise would have taken. That meant that Viserys would be expected to also increase his duties and she expected that soon after the feast ended, they'd be sent to Dragonstone to administer the island in her goodfather's name.
She took a moment to look around. There were fewer people now as most knights and lower nobles were made to leave but there were still plenty of people. It wasn't just Westerosi that were in attendance either. There were a few Pentoshi, Braavosi merchants – merchants that were likely very connected to the ruling powers of their respective cities – along with a few other Essosi notables in attendance.
With the Triarchy growing in strength in the years since they'd driven out Volantis from the Disputed lands, the balance of power in Essos had markedly changed. Viserys told her that the King wasn't interested at all in involving themselves in the matter regardless of the rewards the Essosi offered in return for their support.
He did comment that the King was at least pleased at seeing Volantis humbled. It shouldn't have surprised her when Viserys told her that but it did yet when Viserys explained the tense relations House Targaryen had with Volantis, it made sense.
Other than a few courteous conversations of little importance, she had not spent any time conversing with any of the nobles or Essosi in particular.
No, she'd been with the ladies at court and her sister Amanda mostly who'd come down with her husband Lord Hardyng. She hadn't seen her since her wedding to Viserys so it had been pleasant to introduce her to Rhaenyra whom she hadn't met.
As it was now with the night nearing its end, she was seated by the Queen with Gael sat on the other side as she listened idly to the Queen talking to Lady Blackwood and Lady Tyrell whilst Viserys was by his father speaking to a few people including the young knight Otto Hightower who did well in the Joust despite his youth.
Rhaenyra began to make some noise and she bounced her slightly in her lap which did little to calm her down. One of the servants had informed her Rhaenyra had woken up a few hours ago and she decided to bring her to the feast. It drew the attentions of the Queen and Aemma rose from her seat "Grandmother, Rhaenyra's a little restless." Aemma said apologetically.
The Queen smiled kindly "She's likely tired enough and ready to rest again." she turned to Gael "Gael, why don't you go with Aemma?" Gael nodded dutifully and rose and locked steps with her not long after.
Aemma eyed her aunt carefully. She was demure, her shoulders slightly slumped and her expression, despite the politeness of it, was saddened, as if a light had gone.
Ever since she came back from her foolish and ill-thought voyage that worried the King and Queen endlessly, even herself and Viserys, she'd been quiet and subdued.
She'd left the Red Keep in the dead of night and pressed the guards and dragonkeepers into letting her in to take Liāzmariña and fly to Dragonstone where Aegon was. They disappeared for hours before they flew towards Kings Landing where Aegon explained that they were flying around in the narrow Sea.
She wouldn't speak of it when Aemma had asked her what was wrong and at first she thought it had been because of the scolding she'd gotten from the King and Queen. But then days later, she was still the same and she rarely spent time with anyone other than the Queen, not even Aegon who Aemma knew Gael adored.
"Are you enjoying yourself, aunt?" Aemma asked gently as she calmed Rhaenyra down in her arms as they walked on the edges of the ballroom.
Gael almost looked surprised at the question and the weak smile she offered fooled no one "I am." Gael said timidly before she cleared her throat "I am" she said again though this time a lot stronger. Aemma was not convinced.
The song grew louder as they approached and Rhaenyra seemed to like it so she changed her direction towards the source "You can talk to me, aunt." Aemma said concernedly as she placed her hand on Gael's right lower arm.
She squeezed gently, her eyes deeply searching Gael's face. "What happened between you and Aegon? Did he…" Gael's eyes widened dramatically and she flushed deeply red before she shook her head rapidly.
"No, no, he did nothing of the sort" Gael got out quickly with an affronted expression before a look of sadness came over her and it was then that Aemma understood.
"He does not wish to marry me."
'Oh Gael…' she thought sadly to herself before she grew deeply concerned for not only Gael but also Aegon. The match between Aegon and Gael was practically set even if it was not yet spoken of so for Aegon to…
"Why?" Aemma asked and Gael tensed a little, her expression growing concerned before she removed her hand from Aemma's grip and grabbed her hand.
"It doesn't matter." Gael said before she met Aemma's eyes "Please…please don't tell anyone, not even Viserys. Aegon will explain to father. I can't…I can't." Gael's eyes began to water. "Promise me." Gael half begged, half demanded.
Aemma looked at Gael and she trying her best to keep pity off of her face. 'Aegon…why would you refuse her?' Aemma wondered to herself. Gael adored Aegon…no she was certain her aunt more than simply adored her goodbrother.
"I promise." Aemma said under Gael's gaze. She could not refuse her aunt, not when she confided like this to her. Gael's expression broke into relief.
"Thank you Aemma" she whispered and Aemma squeezed Gael's hand. Aemma wanted to give Aegon a tongue-lashing for what he was doing to her and she desperately wanted to understand. She would ask him after Aegon spoke with the King. Viserys would hear of it as her goodfather already told him about the match.
'The match that wouldn't go ahead if Aegon is immovable' she thought to herself.
She shook that thought away "Let's go see who that voice belongs to." Aemma said in a cheerful tone. Gael smiled gratuitously as they made their way to the place where the singers were placed.
Aemma was surprised to see who the voice belonged to. It was a tall blonde haired young and handsome man with a chiselled face that made it clear that he quite obviously a Westerlander by birth.
He played the lute too and expertly at that as well and despite the others who played the harps and lutes in the band that he was part of, his skill at lute was clear to hear and see.
"Aemma" she heard and it broke her out of her reverie and she turned and saw Viserys walking towards her with a soft smile. "My love" he said as he kissed her on the cheek. "Aunt Gael" Viserys said warmly and Gael smiled at him briefly.
"Kepa" Rhaenyra delightedly called out and Viserys beamed at their two name days old daughter as he lifted Rhaenyra from Aemma's arms.
"She's quite tired." Aemma remarked before she smiled again "But she was very well behaved." She told Viserys as he stood by her, the music that was played changing to a slower one.
"Is that so?" Viserys said with a jovial tone in his voice as he raised her with his hands. "My perfect little princess" Viserys said adoringly as he held her up, Rhaenyra giggling and trying to grab Viserys' face all the while.
Aemma's smile deepened at the sight.
Viserys adored Rhaenyra with all that he had and never shied away from spending time with her as other Lords may do when children were this young.
"She does look a little tired" Viserys commented before he held her closer.
"I was thinking of taking her back soon." She admitted to her husband. That Rhaenrya behaved as well as she had thus far was a minor miracle from the Seven by itself.
"No reason to wait. I myself am quite weary. We can retire now?" Viserys posed to Aemma and Aemma turned to Gael who only smiled at them both.
"Go. I'll be fine. I'll simply go back to mother shortly." Gael assured her and Aemma was a little hesitant to leave her but the reassuring look that Gael gave her made her relent.
"I'll come see you tomorrow." Aemma promised and Gael smiled appreciatively.
"Is everything alright with Gael?" Viserys asked concerned. Aemma smiled at her husband touched by his kind heart. He was very observant when he cared to be.
"She is." She lied to Viserys however much she didn't want to. "Just a little weary from the revelries." She added. Viserys nodded.
"It has been a long day hasn't it?" Viserys said with a laugh as they made their way towards the doors. Aemma looked around and saw Prince Baelon still conversing with a few nobles. Her eyes swept the ballroom and she found Prince Aegon speaking with a dark skinned man dressed in fine but vibrant clothing.
"Who is he?" Aemma asked curiously and Viserys looked where she was looking and his eyes lit up before a frown came across his face.
"A Summer Islander that petitioned grandfather for assistance to take back his lands that are supposedly his" Viserys said with a gentle shrug as he kept firm hold of their daughter "I believe his name was Prince Jallom – or was it Jallol, not sure – anyway, grandfather refused in any case."
Aemma hummed slightly as she kept her gaze on Aegon and the Summer Islander. "They seem deep in conversation." Aemma said evenly. Viserys chuckled.
"You know how Aegon is. He loves to learn about different peoples and their lands. It wouldn't surprise me if the Summer Islander was telling Aegon everything he wants to know" Viserys said with a laugh though Aemma didn't share in his laughter.
She looked around again and saw Gael still standing by the troupe and listening to their play. She thought maybe they didn't know Aegon as well as they thought they did.
She sighed before she banished the thought from her mind as they approached the exits. She looked at Rhaenyra and saw her with her eyes closed. "She's asleep." Aemma commented softly. Viserys smiled.
"Has she? Well let's hurry and keep it that way" Viserys said with a soft chuckle and Aemma smiled at her husband.
-Break-
Early 99 AC, Kings Landing
Jaehaerys POV
He looked up from the replica table when the doors opened and his grandson walked through with two of the Kingsguard behind him. There was a slight limp in Aegon's steps, not so noticeable, but he was favouring his right leg.
"Grandfather." Aegon bowed before him. "You wanted to see me?" he asked with a neutral look on his face though the curiosity was clear to hear in his voice.
Jaehaerys glanced at the boy for a few moments before he turned away and towards the Kingsguards "Leave us."
The Kingsguards bowed before they left, closing the door behind them.
Jaehaerys returned his attentions to his grandson who stood silently with a blank expression as he stared down at the replica. He should have paid more attention to the boy, he thought to himself.
Perhaps then he would have known more about the boy's true character than the…differing accounts that he'd given throughout the years.
Baelon's youngest was...a contradiction. Yes…that was the best way to describe the boy. A contradiction. A contradiction that seems to define him even now. Warrior. Scholar. Kind. Cold. Brother. Stranger. Jaehaerys hummed silently for a moment.
At the beginning, on the surface, it may have appeared for Aegon to be like Vaegon who had been silent as a boy and watched all with wary and distant eyes.
But he knew better then and he knew even better now.
The boy had been nothing like Vaegon, who despite his distance and his coldness as he aged, had still been a boy with life. Aegon had been far closer to death as a child.
Some of the more imbecilic at court were said to think that death still had its grip on the child once he had survived his childhood illness that no maester could explain when all others would have died in his place.
Some even claimed it might have been their dragon blood that allowed him to survive but he would have none of it and silenced that distasteful whisper.
Daenerys, his daughter, would have lived otherwise from a lesser illness.
No…Jaehaerys did not think it was something to do with their blood as for years afterwards, the boy could have hardly been called living.
Jaehaerys glanced at the boy before he turned away towards the replica table.
Once upon a time, he had…considered hiding the boy away at the furthest reaches of the Keep. Away from prying eyes. It had been too much to think he had a dullard for a grandson, a dullard that had dared to survive when his daughter Alyssa had not.
He thought the Gods were mocking him as they were oft to do.
As they always did.
Only Baelon's uncharacteristic and defiant defence of the boy, a defence born out of guilt and duty rather than any kind of love, stayed his hand. That and the fact that Aemon would come to Baelon's defence as the brothers always did for each other.
The stab of pain sharpened in his chest and he turned away from the boy, his mind returning to the present lest it grow from needles to swords.
"It is an exact replica I had finished two moons ago." Jaehaerys said aloud, his mind forced back in the present, his hand gesturing Aegon to approach even as his attentions lay to the carved table that he had finally commissioned to be made.
It was a replica of the Painted Table located in Dragonstone's main hall, a carved table in the shape of Westeros with engravings of cities, castles, landmarks and even the branching rivers of the main rivers of Westeros.
Aegon stopped beside him, standing silent as he so often did any time they were in the presence of each other. Which was not often, he admitted to himself.
He had not thought the boy of much worth after he'd miraculously recovered of whatever ailment of the mind had passed once he'd bonded with Mīsaragorn.
Aegon had kept to himself, preferring to keep company on his lonesome with a tome in his arms or a wooden sword in his hand, later increasing to include Elysar, Gael and Viserys. Mayhaps he should have paid more mind then, he mused to himself.
There would have been less of a struggle to understand the boy had he not dismissed the reports for so long, reports that praised the boy's keen intellect and commitment to his studies. He'd dismissed them as matters of appeasement and flattery made to him in a time of heartache and disappointment.
Alysanne's estrangement from him after Viserra killed herself in such shameful foolishness, his royal progress that lasted for over two years – before he returned in 90 AC for Rhaenys' marriage – and later when his Aemon died had seen him blind to the boy's supposed remarkableness.
The sharpness in his chest returned and he closed his eyes momentarily.
How could it be…that it still seemed like just yesterday that his Aemon died in such a…undeserving way?
He let off a breathless exhale through a miniscule gap between his lips.
He knew that no time would be enough heal this wound…this constant ache that he felt in his old bones, the weight of the knowledge that his Aemon had been destined to become a worthy King in the mould of his grandsire pressed down on his mind like steel chains dragging him down to the stark darkness that was the unforgiving ocean depths. 'Or was it guilt?' he thought to himself for a brief moment.
'What would you think, my boy?' he thought to himself, his mind lost in memories.
Aemon…had been the very best of him and Alysanne.
Only be to taken away by a stray arrow at a place he should never have been.
The sharpness deepened and he inhaled deeply, his heart feeling as if it was being punctured, slowly, by the tip of a sword and a fleeting thought passed through his mind, a thought that mayhaps it was Aemon's ghostly sword that stabbed at him for his betrayal of his precious daughter.
Jaehaerys reopened his eyes and he exhaled deeply as he placed his hand onto the carved table, steadying himself for a few moments. Perhaps he would deserve it, he considered, before he regained his wits and dismissed such sentimentality and weakness, his heart hardening. It had been the right decision.
It was his duty to the realm.
It was his duty to secure power for his House. It did not matter that Rhaenys should have inherited the throne. It did not matter if she was clever, if she was made capable by Aemon. It mattered not if she had a true heart. No…
She was a woman.
And she was not a Targaryen.
Aemon had seen to that.
She was Velaryon and he would not see the Throne his grandsire won with fire and blood pass into the hands of those were their lesser, who thought and dared to reach higher and greater than they deserved, however much they were supposedly kin.
And more simply…he'd rather die a thousand times than let that treasonous grasping snake sit upon the Throne his grandsire had forged with fire and blood.
"Grandfather…" Aegon's unusually concerned and hesitant voice broke him out of his reverie and he glanced at the boy. The boy stood cautious but firm.
His expression concerned but not weak and Jaehaerys eyed him closely, the weakness in his chest lessening. He could see the differences in the boy from the uncaring and cold child he'd been in his youth the rare few times he'd interacted with the boy.
Now five and ten years of age, Aegon stood on the brink of manhood with a quiet assuredness that reminded him of Aemon – though he never possessed anything but a mockery of Aemon's dutifulness or his strength – the fats in his face lost replaced with that of a strong young man…a young man who shared so much of Alyssa's features beyond the same startling eyes he inherited from his daughter.
The long angular face was a painful reminder, a reminder that must haunt Baelon as much as the boy's eyes did. The Gods had a cruel sense of irony to make the boy inherit all of her wits and her wilfulness but none of her spirit.
"Where was I?" Jaehaerys said more to himself before he remembered and refocused on the carved table. "Yes…the exact replica of the Painted Table."
"It's not quite exact." Aegon spoke carefully, his eyes fixated on the replica.
Jaehaerys turned to him, his eyes inspecting the boy keenly. "Oh?" Jaehaerys questioned with a look. Aegon glanced at him momentarily before he gestured towards the Riverlands.
"The Green fork bifurcates and a smaller and weaker river moves east towards the Mountains of the Moon." Aegon said as he gestured towards the raised features on the map.
"Around here, just north of the Inn at Crossroads and Harroway's Town" Aegon gestured the farmlands east of the Trident "Is where a much weaker version of the Trident is recreated where the river splits into three before they end at the valleys of the Vale."
Jaehaerys frowned for a moment.
"I don't remember seeing that carved into the Painted Table."
Aegon looked at Jaehaerys, his expression somewhat guarded "I…I added it to the Table." Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes slightly and it prompted Aegon to continue.
"I spent some time in the libraries of some of the Riverlords who all had little differences to the lands in the Kingdom in their maps. After I got back and flown on the back of Mīsaragorn, I confirmed that the nature of the smaller yet significant river that was missing from the Painted Table…details that might prove import