Aemon Targaryen (107 A.C. Ninth Moon)
King's Landing Throneroom
Aemon stood there as the court began to disperse from the Throne Room. He walked away, toward the side, the armor he wore clinking against the marble floor. He smiled. Here he was, heir to the throne. Sure, he had expected he would play a part in politics, but becoming heir? No, he had not expected that. Yet here he was, and although it was a burden, it was one he knew he could carry.
"Aemon, are you alright?"
Aemon looked toward his wife and smiled. "I am a little drained and stiff from standing still that long."
Laena smiled. "Of course. Shall we retire to the balcony?"
"I think that is a good idea."
Together, they walked over and saw that the sun was already setting.
"Prince of Dragonstone. It will give you the control you need, no?" Laena asked.
Aemon thought for a second. "Indeed, it does. Dragonstone can become like Seadragon Point, perhaps even more, as it is more suited for dragons. Perhaps one day, it will be a bright light in the realm."
Laena smiled and placed a hand over his. "If you can imagine it, you can do it."
After that, someone else walked onto the balcony.
"Nephew, I wished to congratulate you once more. You held yourself well during the ceremony." His uncle's voice echoed across the balcony.
"Thank you, and perhaps we can work on our plans for the far North. Although I might see part of it revised now that I am the heir," he replied.
His uncle smiled. "Indeed. This time in the capital has told me and confirmed things I expected. To give one example, the disregard many of the south have for what happens with the Wall, although some seemed more open, especially with you endorsing it."
"Indeed. Yet, as I told you before, with the discoveries made in the far North, perhaps we can make better prospects. But the North is only part of the problems we are facing," he stated.
"You mean the fact your brother has come to swear his allegiance?" his uncle asked.
"Indeed, yet Lord Corlys has been receiving reports of the Triarchy becoming more of a problem and asking for enormous trade tariffs to pass through. They pushed out the pirates, yet they seem to act worse and are a unified, organized group. So, any captain has more trouble dealing with them."
"You expect them to choke off trade?"
"I do, because greed is one thing that keeps the Triarchy united as it is. If they can choke more wealth from the nations north of the Stepstones, they will."
Laena looked at him with a smile. "Yet as of now, there are no reports of ships being sacked. So until the cry to put an end to the tariffs becomes too high, or ships, cargo, and captives are taken, provoking a war with the Triarchy is not in our best interests yet. A war without popular support is never good, even with a dragon. I can win battles with Balerion, yet I need men to hold towns, castles, and utilize the land."
"A wise assessment," Benjen noted with a smile. "Speaking of ships, has Lord Martin Gerwyn accepted the proposal?"
His uncle lit up. "He did. He found the idea pleasing, especially with the cost shared between the three of us."
Aemon chuckled. "Good to see it that way. If we can build a town on the river and have more goods shipped along it, the better the boon. It will make the center of the North better connected, and the profits from taxes and trade could be valuable."
Laena shook her head then, and Aemon looked at her questioningly.
"Always so diligent. I wonder how you will be when we have children," Laena said with a chuckle.
"Well, I have standards, and so will they," he noted proudly as he placed a hand on Laena's belly.
"Perhaps we will know soon," Laena muttered.
At that moment, Lord Ormund and his father walked through the door.
"My Prince Aemon, Princess Laena, Lord Stark."
Aemon walked over to them. "Lord Ormund, Lord Hightower."
"Prince Aemon, may I introduce my father, Lord Hobert Hightower," Ormund stated lively, and Aemon felt himself smile. He had spoken with Ormund a couple of times and found that, even though the man was older, he was someone he could speak with. Ormund Hightower, despite being pious and devoted to the Seven, was a competent man, skilled in arms and stewardship.
"It is not necessary. We spoke briefly during my brother's coronation, did we not, Lord Hobert?" he asked.
"Indeed, briefly, my prince. Yet your arrival on Balerion certainly left a memory," Lord Hobert replied.
"Speaking of that, my lord, how was the journey?" he asked.
"It went swiftly, with only one day of rain."
"May the journey back be as uneventful as the last," Aemon stated with a small smile.
"I thank you. Yet your own return to the capital was quite eventful. From a third son to heir to the throne, and returning with the knowledge of how to remake Valyrian steel. When my son and brother sent me word, I hardly believed it. Yet seeing you walk into the Throne Room put away those doubts," Lord Hobert noted as he looked him over.
"It can be bone for the realm. Lord Hightower, my nephew, has granted my house the honor of granting. My heir has a Valyrian sword for his own." Benjen stated proudly. Both Ormund and Hobert looked surprised and turned to him.
"Indeed, an eventful return, and I have indeed made a sword for my cousin, as for my return, it hasn't been without merit." He looked at Laena then and pulled her closer. "Marrying a lady as lovely as my lady wife made the trip worthwhile. Yet as for the heirship, I would rather have seen my nephew Baelon live and spared my brother, good-sister, and niece their hardship."
Lord Hobert looked up at him. "You would not wish to be King?"
"Seeing the burdens my grandfather and brother were carrying, no, kingship was not something I desired. I would have done my duties as brother and uncle had Baelon taken the throne. Yet here we are, and I will take to my duties as I must," he replied.
"An admirable position for a third son, seeking sons. Does your grace plan to gift or sell the steel to other houses?" Lord Hobert noted as looked toward Ormund.
Aemon smiled. Of course, Hobert was going to ask that. "I do not as of yet. I did think that way, but perhaps I could. Yet the process isn't negligible, and making weapons takes time."
Lord Hobert only smiled and gave him a flattering reply. "Perhaps for future discussion. Your Grace, we are honored to reach an arrangement. A valyrian steel blade, carried by House Hightower, forged by the future King himself."
"Perhaps we shall, my lord. Yet as for now, I shall keep to my duties. As must we all, my lord. We all carry burdens we must walk with on the paths before us."
"That we must," Lord Hobert noted. "Once more, Your Grace, I wish you well. I am sure you will make a fine heir."
After Lord Hobert and Ormund walked away, leaving them alone, Laena looked at him. "You think he is plotting with Otto?"
"He is, and they did not ride with the Lord of Highgarden, but alone, with several other lords. The Hightowers are building a power base to push the Tyrells out and spread their influence, and Otto is part of it, I am sure." Soon enough, he would have to speak with them all about what do with Alicent.
"True enough, nephew lords, even the North tries to raise its standing. The Tyrells have the Hightower; we have the Boltons." Benjen noted. Aemon closed his eyes and thought of how they betrayed Robb's betrayal.
"We will be vigilant and make sure the dragon flies higher than the Hightower," Laena noted, as she took his hand.
"Listen to your wife, nephew," Benjen said with a chuckle.
"I shall, Harren had tall towers too, and where is his line now?" He stated grimly. "Perhaps one day, if they push it too far, the Hightower will no longer be white and tall. But blackened and switched."
Laena and Benjen looked with wide eyes. "True enough, sometimes, you must answer treason with decimation. It's why we Starks have one cadet-brach left and not two."
Aemon smiled, knowing his uncle spoke true, and said softly as he walked back into the hall. "Now, the Greystarks no longer howl through their halls."
Aemma Arryn Targaryen (107 A.C. Ninth Moon)
King's Landing – Aemma's chambers.
A day after the coronation.
Lyanna poured them both a cup of tea as they sat down on the balcony. "The coronation went well? I heard from my daughter and husband that it did."
Lyanna smiled. "It did. The lords were respectful, although some of the more pious southern lords did not use the old gods in their oaths. It was similar to what happened during Viserys's own coronation."
"Hmm, so he is truly the heir now. Perhaps it is something my husband should have decided when we lost our last babe. I do love little Alysanne, yet I have not felt that weak or that close to death since I carried her and her little Baelon," she stated with a sigh. Only because of Aemon's maester was she still here. That damn old man Mellos, she had heard it from Lyanna. The man had suggested cutting her open.
Lyanna placed a hand over hers. "I know."
Aemma looked at her then, and she saw something she had always known. Lyanna might not have Valyrian beauty, yet she had Northern beauty. Aemon's words came to her mind then. "Aemon spoke to me about what will happen now, especially with his upcoming marriage to my daughter."
Lyanna looked at her with a sad smile. "Aemma, if I didn't think Otto and the other lords would not push for Viserys to wed as well, I would never have contemplated the idea, nor for myself or for Arya. Yet I see myself or Arya as the best options, both for stability and familiarity, at least for both of us. With Arya, we can all get used to the idea."
Aemma looked at her for a second and sighed. "I know it is true. Viserys marrying another woman is a likely possibility. Even now, Viserys barely visits me. I would not be surprised if he has found someone to warm his bed. I know he loves me in some ways, but he loves the concept of a boy or a warm bed more."
It was true, sadly enough, that when they were younger, newly wedded, and not yet bedded, Viserys had visited the brothels with Daemon. Even after they had bedded, he had still visited them, to her knowledge. Her husband had an appetite for the tastes of the flesh.
"You suspect he has taken someone to bed already?" Lyanna asked, shocked.
Aemma smiled. They were friends, but those stories were not things she had told her. Lyanna had found a good husband in her goodfather, for Baelon had never strayed from his marriage bed, and neither with Alyssa, to her knowledge.
Lyanna's eyes burned with fury. "Well," she said, her voice low, "I may do my duty if I must marry him, Aemma. Yet together, I think we can set your husband straight."
Despite herself, Aemma almost smiled. Lyanna leaned back slightly, her mouth tightening. "And I think Arya could as well. Arya can be quite fierce when crossed."
Aemma did smile then, because she knew that to be true. Yet the thought of nine-year-old Arya being betrothed to her husband felt strange, even if, to her own disgust, she saw the merit in it. "Arya marrying Viserys does not sit well with me. I know all the upsides, but she is young, Lyanna. Do you truly expect her to know her duty?"
Lyanna sighed. "I do, like Aemon. Arya is a smart child, smarter than many her age, and she knows her duty. Also, if they were to marry, it would not happen until she was three and ten, hopefully later."
Lyanna explained it, but Aemma heard the quiet apprehension in her voice. She did not want it for her daughter, seeing her daughter married to a man who could have been her father.
"Nor is it needed," Lyanna continued. "Aemon is newly made heir and soon will be wed again. I see myself becoming a grandmother soon enough, if the gods bless them. Then there are Rhaenyra and Visenya, both hale and healthy. Both can be heirs if the gods are cruel and take Aemon from us."
It was perhaps one of the light points that had come out of all this. It seemed her daughter was to be wed to a good man, though not under circumstances Aemma would have wanted. Aemma had seen her daughter with Aemon and knew her brother-in-law would be a good husband to her. He would protect her.
"Let us pray that Aemon stays safe then. I know my daughter is yet to be wed, but if Aemon were to die, she would be heartbroken."
"She will have the marriage I wish I had," she said with a sad smile as her eyes became watery.
Lyanna looked at her sadly. "I am sorry you never did. It still surprises me what you told me about Viserys. I thought he loved you. He was quite adamant during the birth. He wanted you to live."
"Mayhaps. Or it was because you were in the room, or because Maester Dussard came with the remedy that saved Baelon and me, even if he did not live long," she replied. "I do not know what he would have done if he had not had that option."
Lyanna waited and drank some of her tea. Then she looked at her thoughtfully. "I do not know. I hope he would have made the right choice and chosen you."
Then she took her hand. "You are more important to this family. You are a mother and, more or less, an aunt to my children. If your husband had not been so disillusioned with his dreams, he could have seen that he had heirs. Despite his faults, I even think Daemon could have turned it around had he been given the chance. Yet Viserys never gave it."
Aemma looked at Lyanna a bit more darkly then. "At this moment, I do not wish to think of Daemon. He was, for a time, a good uncle to Rhaenyra, yet over the years, he has become quite the headache. What he said about my boy, about his loss, a loss that almost cost me my life, I am not sure I can forgive him for that."
Lyanna looked at her and nodded. "I know. Before, just before my husband passed, I saw a chance for us all to become a family. As seemed the bonds were healing. Yet here we are, and Daemon, as you said, has become worse over the years. What he said could not go unpunished."
Aemma sighed. "Sometimes, I wish the punishment had been harder, as the man now sits on Dragonstone, causing another damned scandal for the Crown."
Lyanna's mouth tightened. "Daemon never learned to accept shame quietly. If he is wounded, he makes certain everyone else bleeds for it."
"That is what worries me," Aemma said. "Aemon is heir now. Rhaenyra is to be wed to him. Viserys has made his choice before the realm, and Daemon will not forgive any of it."
"No," Lyanna agreed. "He will not."
"Yet for now, we deal with all this. Until then, Daemon can sit and sulk on Dragonstone," Aemma noted.
"Indeed, and we will be prepared for it," Lyanna said, and raised her cup.
A few hours later, Aemma's chambers
A few hours later, Aemma was back in bed.
She hated it.
She hated the pillows propped behind her back, the blankets tucked around her legs, the cup of watered wine placed near her hand, and the way every servant looked at her as if she might shatter if they spoke too loudly. She had been queen for years, yet lying in bed like this was something she did too often. She had buried babes, smiled through court feasts, endured whispers, and carried herself with all the dignity House Arryn had taught her.
Yet now her own body betrayed her. It was not pain exactly. Not sharp pain, at least. More of a deep weariness that lived in her bones and made even sitting up for long periods feel like a battle, and left her exhausted.
Beside her, little Alysanne slept in her cradle.
Aemma looked at her daughter and felt the heaviness in her chest soften. The babe's silver-gold hair was fine as silk, her little mouth parted as she breathed. One tiny fist rested beside her cheek. She was so small. So helpless. So perfect.
Alysanne had lived.
Baelon had not.
Aemma swallowed and looked away before grief could pull her under again.
The door opened a moment later.
For a heartbeat, she thought it might be Rhaenyra. Her heart rose at the thought, but then Ser Ryam's voice sounded outside, low and formal. "His Grace, the King."
Aemma stilled.
Viserys entered quietly, as if he feared disturbing the room. He wore a dark red tunic worked with black thread, though his collar was slightly loose, and his hair looked as if he had run his fingers through it more than once. There was a tiredness in his face that she knew well.
Grief, yes.
But not only grief, worry, and conflicting thoughts.
"Viserys," she said.
He gave her a small smile. "Aemma."
He crossed the room with careful steps, his eyes moving first to her, then to the cradle. Something in his expression softened when he saw the babe.
"How is she?" he asked.
"Alysanne sleeps well," Aemma said. "Better than I do."
His smile faltered with guilt. "And you?"
"I am still weak. Birthing two babes does that to you, especially if it is a difficult birth." The words came out more bitterly than she intended.
Viserys looked down. He had the look of a man who wished to be comforted for the hurt he had caused. Aemma knew that look too. She had seen it after every failed pregnancy, every stillbirth, every moon of blood and fever. He would come to her with sorrow in his eyes, and somehow she would find herself soothing him while her own body still ached.
Not this time.
He moved to the cradle instead, perhaps grateful for something easier to face. He bent over Alysanne and smiled.
Viserys reached into the cradle and gently touched Alysanne's tiny hand with one finger. The babe stirred, her fist curling around him for a moment. Aemma watched his face change. There was wonder there. True wonder. That was the cruel part. Viserys did love both his daughters. Yet Rhaenyra had not been enough for him, and she knew for Viserys, and realm Alysanne would also not be enough
"She is beautiful," he whispered.
"She is."
"I am glad she lives."
Aemma looked at him then. "And me?"
He turned, startled. "Aemma."
"It is not a hard question." She asked pointedly.
Pain moved across his face. "Of course, I am glad you live. How could you ask me that?"
Because I know what Mellos offered.
Because I know what men do when they want sons.
Because love is often weakest when it is most needed.
Aemma did not say any of that.
Instead, she said, "Because I nearly did not."
Viserys came to her bedside then. He sat carefully on the chair beside her, hands clasped before him.
"I know," he said. "I know, and I have thanked the gods every morning since."
"Have you? I nearly died this time, and you have barely come. You mostly left me to grieve alone, or with visitors." Aemma asked it with fury.
"Yes."
Aemma studied him. His eyes were damp now. Once, that would have undone her. Once, she would have reached for him without thought.
Now she only felt tired.
"What comes next?" she asked.
Viserys blinked. "What?"
"With Aemon named heir. With Rhaenyra to wed him. With Daemon on Dragonstone. With Otto likely plotting to undo it all, as, for some unknown reason, the man wished for our daughter as heir."
"Rhaenyra told you?"
"She did. She questioned why he suggested her. The Hightowers are a traditionalist house, though pragmatic when they need to be, as they were during the Conquest and later when Maegor became King. They accepted him as their King, as long as it meant a Hightower was queen."
He looked away, toward the balcony doors. "Must we speak of this now?"
"Yes," she said harshly.
"Aemma, you should be resting." He tried to escape the conversation.
"I have done little else but wait, think, and listen to those who came," she replied, crossing her arms. "I would not be surprised if Otto is plotting for someone else to marry you, or even to set me aside, so he can give the royal house more heirs."
Viserys's eyes widened.
So Otto had spoken of it with Viserys. "My Hand has spoken of it, but Aemma, I would never set you aside."
"That does not matter. Soon enough, you will be asking the realm to accept our daughter's marriage. It will give the lords of the realm an opportunity to advance their daughters to marry you. Afterward, for their sons to be heir, if they give you one, something you have always wanted."
Viserys said nothing for a moment.
There it was, she thought. That small tightening around his mouth. Not anger, not yet, but discomfort. He had come to see the babe. Perhaps to kiss her brow, speak softly, feel himself a loving husband and father, then leave before anything difficult was spoken of.
But Aemma had no patience left for soft visits. "Nothing to say? Then I will, because I want my daughters' future to be safe."
At last, Viserys sighed. "Aemon will remain heir. That is settled."
"Good. But you might have to marry another woman. Other and I have thought of this possibility, even if I do not like the idea of you marrying another woman." Aemma watched him.
Viserys looked at her wide-eyed. He had not accepted that. He rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. "You have?"
"Of course I have, even before I feared you setting me aside. Yet that does not matter now. There are two options that would be best for the realm. I already know you will not like them, yet you are the King, so act like it." She stated it with fury, feeling her heart race a little.
"Aemma, you cannot think of these things," Viserys stated, trying to calm her down.
"I do because I must. For my daughters, I do it. I accept the pain, the humiliation that comes with it." She bit the inside of her lip.
"Arya or Lyanna. Those are the options you have."
Viserys's eyes widened, and he gaped at her like a fish.
For a moment, he said nothing at all.
Aemma could almost see the thoughts stumbling over one another behind his eyes. Shock first. Then offense. Then something like fear. He looked toward the cradle, then back at her, as if Alysanne herself might offer him some escape from the conversation.
"Arya and Lyanna?" he finally said, his voice faint. "Aemma, Arya is a child, and Lyanna was married to my father."
"Indeed," Aemma said. "And I do not like it either."
"Then why would you even speak of it?" he asked.
"Because we are where we are. They offer you the best options. Arya is a dragonrider and niece to the current Lord of Winterfell, and her age will give us all time to get used to the idea. As for Lyanna, it is more or less the same. She is still young enough to bear children, and she is healthy. Plus, both women would never plot against Aemon and our daughter. Anyone else who married you would likely want their son as heir." She breathed in heavily.
"Aemon is my heir. I will not unmake him," he said as he rose. "As for the rest, I will not think of this now."
As he began to turn, Aemma spoke again. "That is it? It becomes difficult, and you leave to find comfort somewhere else?"
He turned, and for the first time in a while, his eyes looked at her with sharp fury. "I would not have had this problem had you produced a living heir. Yet here we are. You kept your duty, and I do mine."
Aemma's eyes widened, and in her heart, there was a cold fury. She knew the guilt of her failure, yet something inside snapped. He had bedded her too young. She had been two and ten years old when he bedded her the first time, and little Aerion had likely come too soon because of it. Now he blamed her for all of it. He had not even waited long between pregnancies.
So as she watched the father of her children leave through the door, she felt nothing but cold fury. All loyalty to him left her, and she would only hold her duty to her children.
Notes : The beginning scene was just Aemon taking his time, and having Aemon's thoughts on Ormund. I think it could be a cool character to have in the story in the future. The rest is mostly Hobert fishing for information and asking for a Valyrian steel weapon for his heir, which is a more prestigious thing than a need, as the Hightowers already have their Sword Vigilance.
I also wanted Lyanna and Aemma to chat over the situation. Especially Lyanna wanted to make sure Aemma's understands her reasoning.
Then the Aemma and Viserys stuff. To start with, Viserys's reaction here is to show one of his greatest flaws. He is not cruel in the way Daemon can be cruel, but he is weak when faced with guilt, shame, and insecurity. Rather than facing what Aemma endured, he becomes defensive and places the burden back on her. Sadly, wives producing heirs was mostly seen as their duty, and when things went wrong, it was mostly seen as their fault.
His unfaithfulness comes from that same weakness. Viserys wants comfort, warmth, and escape. He also does this in other ways, like the many tournaments, balls, and overeating as I'm going with a mix of both show and book for Viserys. When Aemma is pregnant, grieving, ill, or unable to give him the softness he wants, he looks elsewhere instead of facing the damage between them. He may love Aemma in his own way, but I see more as a selfish love. He loves her when it is easy, and fails her when love requires patience, restraint, or sacrifice. Especially over the years, and many problems they had with birthing a heir.
For his cheating. There is also some basis for this in canon. In the show, Viserys implies that he and Daemon visited brothels as young men, even though Viserys was already married to Aemma. They married quite young. In the books, there is room to suspect that his closeness with Alicent began before Aemma's death, or that Alicent was already being placed near him as a source of comfort. There is also a possibility that with the show their Viserys seeks comfort from Alicent after Daemon returns from the Stepstones as a war hero, because Daemon's glory leaves him feeling overshadowed and insecure.
So this chapter is not meant to make Viserys suddenly evil. It shows a flaw that was already there. When guilt, grief, duty, shame, or insecurity become too heavy, Viserys avoids them or overcompensates. As he did in the show with naming Rhaenyra heir, sometimes that means walking away from hard conversations. Sometimes it means letting others decide for him. Sometimes it means seeking warmth in another woman.
That is why this moment breaks something in Aemma. It is not only one cruel sentence. It is years of pain, pregnancies, fear, humiliation, and being expected to forgive while Viserys escapes the consequences of his choices. From this point on, her loyalty is no longer to him as a husband, but to her children and their future.
Thanks for the read, and I'm curious what you think of the chapter. I had this fallout planned, yet it came to me in this chapter, here we are.
Next up, Aemon and Viserys speak, and Corlys speaks to the small council. (maybe some other things as well)
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