ตอน 10: Chapter 10.
A/N:
Hello there, my lovely readers ~
Just passing by to share some plans and stuff about the story.
I have many, many plans for this story, and I've been searching a lot to write this. I don't plan to follow the canon 100%, because well, this is a fanfiction. I will keep some things the same as canon, because they are important for the plot, but I'll change others and also create my own shiet. If you don't like it, go read the original. As I mentioned before, I plan to mix elements from both the TV show and the books in this story, so there are bound to be divergences. Just accept this as an AU if it makes you complain less.
I've noticed that many people have been questioning some stuff and coming to conclusions on their own, and I have only one thing to say: Patience. Just wait a enjoy the ride.
Also I plan to delve more into the psychological aspects of the Targaryens, exploring the madness in their blood and other issues. If you haven't already noticed it, both twins aren't exactly the most stable-minded.
One another note, something very special happened today: an author whom I admire very much liked my story. I mean, he liked some of my comments in the story, so I can't be sure he enjoyed my writing. Still, I'm very honored, SrCuervo, even if you end up disliking my story. I enjoy almost every single one of your novels, so I'm glad you even entertained mine. Thank you.
I don't even know if he will see this, but oh well ~
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
~~O~~
Aemon Targaryen, 110 AC.
As they approached their mother's chamber, they saw a pale, slim, and delicate figure by the door.
The figure turned to look in their direction and soon smiled upon seeing them. She hurried her steps, clearly excited to be with them as soon as she could. Her long auburn hair flowed with each step she took, and her almond eyes stared fixedly at the duo, especially at Aemon, eyes filled with admiration and something else, something dearer.
The twins recognized the girl as Alicent Hightower. It had been seven years since they first met her, and much had transpired since then.
After their first encounter, Rhaenyra had asked Aemon why he was so cold and distant when he saw Alicent. His answer puzzled her. He said, "I've dreamed of her many times." She had thought about teasing him, saying things like, 'So she's the girl of your dreams?' but stopped herself when she saw the somber look he had, reminding her of the many times he would wake up at night crying and screaming Rhaenyra's name. She took his hand gently in hers, looked him in the eye, and said, "Tell me."
He told her everything he could remember from his foggy dreams: about his vision of an older Alicent drawing a dagger at her, a dream where they both stood on different sides—one green and the other black—and how Alicent carried hatred in her eyes each time she looked at Rhaenyra.
This greatly disturbed her. But at the same time, she couldn't connect the image of such a sweet and naive little girl to a woman filled with such hatred. Of course, people change with time and are capable of terrible things when cornered. She knew all too well about that.
She made a compromise with him. "We can befriend her first and see how things go. If she's really up to something, we can act."
'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'
Both of them had the same thought. Even Aemon, who had the dreams himself, wasn't keen on disposing of a possibly innocent child without any proof except for his dreams. He had a fair suspicion that her father, Otto Hightower, was the main cause of everything wrong with not only Alicent but also the future of House Targaryen.
As Alicent reached them, her smile broadened, and she greeted them warmly, "Rhaenyra, it's so good to see you!" She called out to her best friend, someone she not only considered a sister but also looked up to. To her, Rhaenyra was the embodiment of grace, a model to follow in all things. She wasn't really wrong, at least superficially. To the eyes of the realm, Rhaenyra was the perfect princess. Not only was her beauty legendary, desired by nearly every man, but she was also known for her miraculous knowledge and methods that saved countless lives. To Alicent, Rhaenyra was everything she aspired to be.
Rhaenyra smiled at Alicent, a genuine but also guarded smile. She was fond of the girl; after years together, she had come to see her as a friend, despite being mentally much older than Alicent. But in the back of her mind, she always kept Aemon's warning in check, never getting too chummy with the Hightower lady.
"It's good to see you too, Alicent," she answered lightly. It had been a while since they last saw each other, as Rhaenyra had many things to attend to.
Alicent then turned her attention to Aemon. She blushed a little as she curtsied and said, "My prince, it's good to see you too."
Aemon just nodded in reply. His gaze was softer than years ago, but still carried a tinge of aloofness.
Rhaenyra sighed at the sight. It was completely obvious that Alicent had a huge crush on her brother, something even a blind man could see.
She could still remember the many times she had caught Alicent staring unblinkingly at Aemon, especially when he was training. There was even one time recently when Alicent bumped into them while they were returning from their training, and she lost her balance. Aemon caught her before she fell, and for a moment, Rhaenyra swore Alicent was about to have a stroke from how red her face got. She could only manage to say gibberish as she tried to apologize.
The scene replayed in Rhaenyra's mind as she watched Alicent now, her heart a mix of fondness and caution.
Aemon cut through Rhaenyra's thoughts with a question. "Where's our mother?" His tone remained somewhat cold toward the young lady, but at least he still tried to maintain his demeanor. She couldn't really blame him; she might do the same if she were in his shoes, dreaming about someone doing something horrible to her family.
Alicent answered, still blushing and looking at the ground. "She's in her bed. I was just about to fetch her some things she asked for."
Aemon nodded, though a bit annoyed by the fact that both his sister and mother had taken a liking to this young lady. Yes, she was nice and all, but he still didn't trust her completely.
"Thank you for your kindness. We will now speak with her." Alicent nodded and made way for the twins. As Rhaenyra passed by her, she whispered, "I'll catch up with you later," and smiled gently.
It wasn't just out of friendship that Rhaenyra kept Alicent close; she also used her as a surveillance tool for the matters of gossip, something that had proven to be very useful for collecting intel. Even her father would sometimes slip a bit of information to his daughter from time to time, but Rhaenyra didn't fully trust those pieces. She would just keep them in mind.
They soon approached the room and stepped inside. There lay their mother, the queen, surrounded by servants tending to her every need.
She was reclined with her eyes closed, her silvery white hair scattered on the pillow, her complexion pale and tired. Her belly was large, a clear sign of her state—she was pregnant.
Over the years, Viserys and their mother had tried to conceive more children, but each attempt ended in heartbreak as the babies were born dead.
The sight of their lovely mother in such a state brought rage and indignation to the twins' hearts. Aemma, perhaps sensing their presence, opened her now dull and tired violet eyes. They soon filled with love and fondness as she stared at the duo. They were perhaps her biggest source of joy and happiness in these past few years. Her twins were not only her pride but also the ones she loved the most, even more than her beloved husband.
She said weakly, "My children, what a pleasure to see you." Her words pained both of the twins. They were so occupied with the affairs of the realm that they had neglected their own mother. Only Rhaenyra would visit her more often, checking on her health from time to time. Aemon was even busier than Rhaenyra. After being officially named the heir a few years ago, his already packed schedule had become even more chaotic.
Both of them flew from place to place, visiting every single lord and helping to spread their knowledge and influence.
They hadn't had a minute of rest since the day they claimed their dragons and became the youngest dragonriders in history, at least in the history of their house. Perhaps there were even younger riders among the dragonlords of old Valyria.
Aemon kneeled beside his mother's bed and gently took her hand. He said, with a tone filled with guilt, "Forgive me, Mother. I've been a horrible son." He truly believed his words. If Rhaenyra visited their mother at least once a week, he only managed to see her once a month. He despised his status as heir sometimes, wishing he could just stay with his sister and mother, training when he wished and flying around with Vermithor and Silverwing in Rhaenyra's company. He absolutely hated having to attend feasts and pointless gatherings with the many, many lords of the realm. Even with a dragon, those travels took weeks or even months. The only silver lining was that most of the time his sister was by his side to keep him company.
Aemma, seeing her tall and handsome son so downcast and filled with regret, felt her heart ache. She knew it wasn't his fault. She gently caressed his face as he closed his eyes, savoring her love and care. She said, "I know it's not your fault, sweetheart. We all have our duties to attend. Don't be too hard on yourself for this."
Rhaenyra asked, her tone filled with worry, "Did you sleep?"
Aemma, a little amused by her daughter, replied, "I slept."
Rhaenyra, insisting, said, "For how long?" The queen, tired and a little annoyed, replied, "I don't need mothering, Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra and Aemon frowned at that, and Rhaenyra said, "Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the baby. Someone has to attend to you."
Aemon nodded and added, "The baby comes second after you, Mother. Don't ever forget that."
Aemma sighed and looked at Rhaenyra, saying, "You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the realm."
Rhaenyra shuddered at the thought. As a doctor specializing in obstetrics and gynecology in her past life, she knew all too well about the pain and suffering a woman had to endure to give birth. She knew that in the grand scheme of things, she would have to do her duty someday. She had come to terms with that after many years as a female, even forgetting a bit how things were in her old body.
Still, it was not something she wanted to entertain right now, so she rebuked her mother by saying, "I'd rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory."
Both Aemon and Aemma laughed at that, knowing she could indeed do such a thing if necessary. Although a bit eclipsed by her stellar brother, her swordsmanship had gained the respect of many, especially after she had beaten many guards way older and more experienced than her. She may not be as strong and fierce as her brother, but she was just as fast. Some even compared her to their famous ancestor, Visenya Targaryen.
Aemma's laughter faded, and she looked at Rhaenyra with a mixture of pride and concern. "You have the spirit of a warrior, my dear, but there are battles fought in many ways. Each of us has our own path to tread. We have royal wombs, you and I. The child bed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip."
Rhaenyra kept silent, lost in her thoughts. Aemma then turned her gaze to Aemon.
"And you, you have your duties as well. You cannot keep running away from them."
Aemon knew she was right. Ever since he had been named heir, his father, Viserys, had been eager to throw a feast and a tournament in his honor, not only to officialize his status but also because he genuinely wished to celebrate his son. Yet Aemon despised such events. Although he did enjoy fighting in tourneys, even sneaking into one of them as a mystery knight at the age of eleven. This audacious act not only shocked the realm but also his family. He still recalled the gasps of the crowd when he, as "The Bronze Knight," removed his helmet after besting every knight in the joust. Rhaenyra had recognized him immediately even before that. She sensed the shift in Silverwing's mood, knowing Vermithor must be near, and because she knew her brother better than anyone.
Aemma, too, had stared at him with an odd gaze before he revealed himself, as if trying to find where she had seen him before. It was then that Aemon realized the almost supernatural bond between mother and child. He was clad in full bronze armor that concealed his identity perfectly, and still had almost been recognized by her. "Mothers are terrifying," he had thought at the time. The only reason Aemma did not recognize him was because he was supposed to be in the North handling some affairs and was not expected to arrive in time for the small tourney the king had arranged on a whim. However, Aemon solved the issues in the North faster than anticipated. He returned with Vermithor but chose to ride the final stretch by horse, incognito, to surprise his family. He ordered the very smart and lazy Vermithor to roam the vicinity. He knew his ruse would only buy him some time before the King discovered his arrival, but that was enough.
He had planned this escapade for months but never found the opportunity until then. He even commissioned a custom bronze armor to honor his dragon partner, Vermithor.
Some guests even speculated he might be a bastard of House Royce due to the armor's design.
He had it stashed with his trustworthy friend and confidant, Harwin Strong, a man Aemon greatly admired for his ability to keep up with him in their countless sparring sessions, one of the few who could match his prowess, at least for now.
Unfortunately, the tourney was small and lacked famous knights like Daemon, but it was still a significant feat for an eleven-year-old to win.
In the final round, he sought his sister's favor, and despite her eye-rolling at his antics, she granted it. He, now "motivated", easily defeated the last knight. The king was immensely pleased with the spectacle. When Aemon revealed himself as the crown prince, the crowd went wild, whistling and singing praises to the young prince. He smiled and raised his arms, causing many ladies to scream with excitement. His father, initially shocked, burst into joyous laughter, proud of his son's prowess and growing popularity. Viserys decided then and there to knight him, despite Otto's objections that he was too young. The excited king, once resolved, could not be swayed.
And so, at the tender age of eleven, Aemon was knighted, a deed that would be etched into the annals of Westeros, likely never to be surpassed. While some argued that the king was overly indulgent, they were silenced by the fact that Aemon had indeed defeated all the knights fairly. They could not argue with the truth.
Back in the present, Aemma looked at Aemon thoughtfully before speaking. "Are you truly okay with sharing your moment as heir with your unborn sibling?"
After running from his responsibilities for so long, Viserys finally put his foot down, ordering Aemon to stay at the castle long enough for them to gather the lords and host a big tournament in his honor as heir, and in honor of his unborn sibling, whom Viserys was certain would be a boy due to his "prophetic dreams". With almost all his tasks completed, Aemon had no more excuses. He could only nod in defeat and accept his father's proposition. Since the tournament would span more than a week, there was ample time for both the official ceremony for the lords to swear loyalty to the heir—a "pointless and stupid tradition," in Aemon's words—and for the baby to be born, killing two birds with one stone.
"I don't really mind," Aemon replied, defeated. "I just don't see the need for a ceremony for something that's already been decided. I am the heir; that's not going to change unless I drop dead."
Aemma's eyes widened, her expression turning stern. "Don't ever say such a thing again, not even as a joke! You know well enough how accidents can happen to any of us, even royalty." Aemon couldn't argue with that.
Aemma sighed, then smiled gently. "Just indulge your father this once, sweetheart. If not for him, do it for me."
"That's pretty low, Mother, but sure," Aemon deadpanned, causing Aemma to laugh happily at her beloved son.
"I've already taken up too much of your time," she said, shooing them away. "Go do your duties now before your father sends someone to fetch you."
Rhaenyra and Aemon nodded and prepared to leave, but not before each kissed their mother's head tenderly—an action Aemma greatly appreciated and enjoyed.
As they passed Alicent at the door, Aemon merely nodded while Rhaenyra gave her a polite smile. "Please keep an eye on her," Rhaenyra said.
Alicent gladly complied, watching them go with a knowing smile.
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