Chapter 4: The Golden Rose and the Silver Dragon

The conquest of Westeros VIII.

The Garden of Westeros.

Descended from Garth Greenhand and founded by his son Garth the Gardener, House Gardener and the Gardener Kings ruled over lands whose abundance of food and crops made them highly desired by all in Westeros. Through wars, peace accords, favourable trading terms and sometimes other more questionable mans they ruled the Reach and kept their lands free from those who sought it's riches for themselves. From Highgarden and atop Oakenseat, the Gardener King would sit and look out as the lord supreme of all he surveyed.

But all kings are men and some men are fools and never was this more true than with King Mern Gardner who through incompetence and with an equally foolish steward in Lord Moryn Tyrell, almost brought the reign of the Gardeners to an end. Were it not for his son Prince Gyles and Lord Moryn's son and heir Luthor taking drastic action then through sheer mismanagement the Reach would have fallen to their enemies. Deposed and exiled, both men perished in the sinking of their ship as it set sail from Oldtown and Prince Gyles was then named as king. As a reward to his friend Lord Luthor, a match was granted to him that was far beyond his station in the form of Lady Olenna Redwyne. A lady who had once sought a match with a prince only to now find herself married to a steward.

And thus fortunes were changed in the Reach and all was well once more, or so King Gyles thought. For Olenna wasn't happy with her lot in life and despite what on the surface seemed a happy and productive marriage with Lord Luthor, her ambitions had not dimmed. All kings are men and some men are fools you see and when faced with a beautiful and clever woman, more are the latter than the former. Over time it became clear that it was Olenna and not Luthor or Gyles, nor their sons after them, Mace and Gareth that truly ruled over the Reach. The true ruler may have not been a queen in name but her thorns were sharp and the crown that she herself may not have worn was one she still sought most keenly. Were it not for someone else seeking that crown, then it may have been one that her plots, plans, schemes and manipulations would have brought her. But what good are such things when faced with a dragon's flames?

A history of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

The Reach 300 AC.

Prince Gwayne Gardener.

He moved back and dodged the attack, Loras forcing him backward, and was he not as quick as he was then he'd have lost by now. Garlan stood watching them both and he knew the fight against him was already a foregone conclusion. As good as both he and Loras were, neither could last more than a few moments against Garlan if he so wished it. Gwayne didn't need to look to the balcony to know that Margaery was looking down at him and so despite knowing how foolish it was to do so, he began to show off.

It almost cost him the match and again were it not for his quickness he'd have been done for. The end came almost by accident and though he won, it felt like no true victory. So as he stood ready to face off against Garlan he was much angrier with himself than normal. This turned out to be a good thing as it made the match far more competitive them it would normally have been and it earned him a beaming smile from Margaery even after he'd lost. As with all the smiles she sent his way he felt it deep within himself and he knew his dreams would be of her and of that smile when he slept that night.

"You fought well, my prince." Garlan said as Loras looked on jealously.

"I got lucky, Garlan, otherwise it would have been the same as always." he said as his squire quickly brought them both some water.

"Never underestimate the power of luck, my prince. There are many who say it's better to be lucky than good." Garlan said with a smile on his face.

"Usually those who aren't very good." Loras said making them both laugh.

"True enough, brother." Garlan said.

After drinking his water and putting his sword away, he, Garlan, and Loras made their way up the steps to where his mother, Lady Olenna, Lady Alerie, Margaery, and her cousins sat. Gwayne as always found his eyes drawn to Margaery, the true Golden Rose of Highgarden and the girl who'd owned his heart ever since he was a boy. How she managed to both look at him and not, smile and yet not, was something he didn't and couldn't understand and another one of her many mysteries he hoped to solve one day.

"You fought well, son." his mother said as he caught Olenna looking to Garlan and Loras.

"Perhaps it'll be needed with the Targaryen Prince now on Dragonstone." he said to a frown from his mother, though Lady Olenna looked at him far more curiously.

"Prince Aemon has been on Dragonstone for more than a year and has not looked to take part in events in any of the Seven Kingdoms, why would he suddenly look to do so now?" his mother asked.

"Dragons are ever fickle, your grace." Lady Olenna said and though he wished her to elaborate it seemed his mother did not.

"The boy hasn't even looked to the North, Olenna. He's not even sought out his kin, there's no fickleness there but disinterest." his mother said and Olenna just nodded, though he knew she didn't agree with his mother's words.

"I think I'll go for a walk in the gardens, grandmother. With your leave, your grace?" Margaery asked her voice light and sounding so very much like a nightingale's.

"Of course you may, my dear." his mother said smiling back at her as most people were wont to do.

"I should get cleaned up before I begin to smell." he said and his mother scrunched up her nose but welcomed the kiss he then placed on her cheek.

With a nod to Loras and Garlan, he turned and headed towards the keep only to take the shortcut and almost run through the maze. He was breathing heavily by the time he reached their spot and he heard the sound of Margaery telling her cousins to wait there for her and then a moment later, she was standing in front of him. The way she looked at him was almost sinful, her eyes practically undressing him and she had that lopsided smile on her face that he loved so very much.

"You actually do smell a little." she said as she brushed a bead of sweat from his cheek. "Luckily I like you so." she added as she kissed him and then once again he was lost.

His hands went around her back and he felt himself rise as he pulled her tight against him. The feel of her body next to his enough to enflame his desire and he swore that when she moved and brushed against his manhood it almost caused him to spend. At times he felt she did so deliberately and that she was completely aware of the effect she had on him. Then he'd look into her sweet innocent golden brown eyes and chide himself for ever thinking such wicked thoughts.

They'd not gone beyond kissing and the occasional accidental touch. Gwayne apologizing each time he accidentally took a liberty and grateful that she never grew overly angry with him for doing so. He was not a maid, that had been taken care of a few years earlier. While he'd been to a brothel more than once since, it was only because of thoughts of Margaery and when he'd not been able to contain his desire for her that he'd done so. Each time he'd picked a girl that reminded him most of the one he wished to be with and had closed his eyes when he spent so it was her face that he did so too.

"I will speak to father, my nameday is coming up in a moon and I'll do so then." he said as their kisses tailed off and she looked into his eyes.

"I long for you to do so. I so much wish to be your wife and for these moments to not be so rushed." she said and he almost gulped to hear her speak so.

"I will speak to him, my mother too. There is none other for me, Margaery, there can be no other." he said determinedly.

"For me either, my sweet prince." she said huskily as she leaned closer to him.

"My golden rose." his lips kissed hers and he felt her tongue touch his own.

They feasted that night as they did whenever they had guests. These ones coming from Oldtown and kin to Margaery and her family. Ser Baelor looked as if he'd ridden hard and yet it was Ser Humfrey and how he spoke to Margaery that Gwayne found his attention focused on. Almost getting angry when they danced together until he too had danced with her and she pointed out that the man he was so jealous about just happened to be her uncle.

It made him feel foolish and yet showed him that his feelings for her were true. Though for once it was not Margaery he thought about when he went to his bed that night. Ser Baelor had brought news from the Riverlands and it had led to his father and Lord Mace to depart the feast early. Gwayne was then called to his father's solar and as he took his seat, he was told that King Rickard Stark had been killed in the Riverlands. Lord Mace adding that while it was unclear who had done so it was believed to be the Hoares, though his father wasn't quite as certain.

"If not them, then who?" he asked as he sat looking at his father and Lord Mace.

"I do not know, but many times King Rickard traveled to and from Riverrun, and not once did he ever face an attack. That he does so know with a dragon in the game makes me ponder." his father said and Gwayne shook his head, surely he couldn't be suggesting what he thought he was.

"King Rickard was his grandfather, his kin Are you truly saying that Prince Aemon is behind this?" he asked incredulously.

"The only kin to a dragon is another dragon and Prince Aemon is a ruthless man. I'd not put anything past him or others and this does not sit right with me." his father said.

It was to those thoughts rather than thoughts of a golden rose that he closed his eyes and the worry those thoughts brought to him. If Prince Aemon was indeed responsible for his grandfather's death then that meant that no one was safe from him and if not him then whoever had killed Ser Rickard would face a dragon's flames. Those were the thoughts and it was to the images of a golden rose crying out and a green hand burning black that his dreams were filled with.

Highgarden 300 AC.

Olenna.

It was close enough that she could almost taste it, Olenna almost sure that if she closed her eyes and reached out her hands she'd be able to touch the crown that she so dearly sought. It had been a long and at times frustrating journey to reach the point that her House was now at. There had been far too many disappointments and setbacks along the way. Luthor was a fool and only that he was so close to Prince Gyles or he'd had remained simply that. Instead, that closeness had bought him her hand and while he was and had remained an idiot until the day he died, he was at least a useful one. That he was also easy on the eyes and quite talented between the sheets had at least made that part of their marriage a satisfying experience.

He'd given her three children and in one of them, Mace, a man far too much like himself. Thankfully her two daughters were far more clever and all three had taken their looks from the both of them. Still, it was her connections and not his that had seen her able to manipulate the marriages for her children. Mina to her nephew Paxter and Janna to Ser Jon Fossoway and with Mace she'd gained a true prize in Alerie. It was clear though that it would have to be with her grandchildren that her desire for a crown would be best realized though and so Olenna had waited and waited patiently.

With no princess of House Gardner to aim for, the births of Willas, Garlan, Loras, Horas, and Hobber had done her no true good. Though she welcomed them all the same and with Willas she was relieved to see that he took his wits from her and not from his father. Her true hopes rested at first in both her granddaughters, Desmera and Margaery, and then very quickly in the latter. Margaery was an absolute gem, she was a true gift from the gods and blessed with both beauty and brains. Olenna immediately took her under her wing and spent years moulding her into the perfect lady so she could win over a prince and future king. Just watching her at work was a joy and as she looked at her pretend to go for a walk in the gardens and how quickly Prince Gwayne soon followed, she smiled. It was not a smile that remained on her face for long.

"What do you mean he's dead?" she asked Ser Humfrey Hightower as they sat in her rooms.

"Killed in the Riverlands, it looks to be the Hoares who did the deed and our spies have said that King Rickard's head has been sent back North." Humfrey said.

"As a warning or an invitation?" Willas asked.

"The latter no doubt, someone seeks to provoke a war." she said and she was glad that Mace was with the king and not present at this meeting, as his silly and pointless questions would only anger her even more than she already was.

"House Hoare?" Humfrey asked and she smirked when Willas shook his head.

"No, it makes no sense for them to do so." Willas said.

"Rickard Stark sought the Riverlands, he was a threat to them." Humfrey said and Olenna snorted.

"The wolf has sought the Riverlands ever since he married his dolt of a son to the trout. How long has it been, six and ten, seven and ten years? In all that time what moves has he made? No Rickard Stark was no true threat and had he been so then the Hoares would have moved against him before now." she said looking to Willas who agreed with her and at Humfrey who did not.

"Perhaps this time was more true?" Humfrey said as Willas shook his head.

"No. Our true enemy has not yet shown his face." Olenna said.

"Our enemy?" Humfrey asked.

"Do you think a war between the North and the Riverlands and Iron Islands stays that way? Soon others will be drawn into it, us included. So you need to ask yourself is that what the plan is and if so, then who is cunning and ruthless enough to make such a plan." Willas said and Olenna felt a flush of pride at her grandson's words.

She waited for Humfrey to leave as there were only certain things she'd share with those who were not true family. Once he had, Olenna sent for some wine and soft cheese as she always thought best when her belly was full. Willas sat with her, her grandson drumming his fingers on the table, and was he either of his foolish brothers or his idiot of a father then it would annoy her greatly. Olenna knew though that her grandson had his own way of thinking and the results of that thinking were usually enlightening or beneficial and so she said nothing.

"Put it down there." she said to the servant when she entered and Willas poured them both a glass of wine before placing some of her favorite cheeses on a plate which he then placed beside her.

The cheese felt good on her tongue and she ate a little more than she usually would before she was sated and ready to speak on things, though Willas beat her to it.

"The Dragonknight" Willas said and Olenna looked at him and bid him continue "It's been most strange that he and the Starks have not yet met and we all remember the tales of how wroth King Rickard was when his daughter broke the betrothal."

"The man was a fool. What was it she was named as?" Olenna asked.

"The Empress of the Ice." Willas said.

"Married to the most powerful man in the known world and that foolish wolf couldn't get past his shame at a broken betrothal to a far lesser man. By the seven had he, then we'd all be kneeling to dragons and wolves by now." Olenna said though that may have given her an opportunity too.

"Would the blood be bad enough for this?" Willas asked and she shook her head.

"Without provocation, I doubt it. No this was someone else and not knowing who vexes me." she said taking another piece of cheese.

"We need to hurry things along, grandmother. If it's truly war on the horizon then we must ensure that Gwayne and Margaery are wed before it begins." Willas said and she couldn't agree more.

How close they were to see that through was made even more clear to her at that night's feast. Olenna having to resist the urge to chuckle when she saw the forlorn looks that Gwayne sent Margaery's way as she danced with her uncle. The young boy was so wrapped up in her golden rose's vines that all it would take was a simple push and so she resolved to speak to Margaery about making it so as quickly as possible. When she saw King Gareth and Mace leave she was relaxed, as she knew what it was they would be speaking about and that Mace would watch and take note and only offer the counsel she had told him to.

She stopped by Margaery's rooms before she went to her bed and was pleased to hear her granddaughter sing as she sat in front of her looking glass. It was a little force of habit of Margaery's that she had come to much appreciate. After a soft knock on the door which was answered instantly, her granddaughter well aware of their little signals by now, Olenna made her way into the room and took a seat. She was more than eager to speak to her and prove herself right about the day's events.

"Gwayne says he'll speak to his father before his nameday, grandmother." Margaery said and Olenna smiled at her.

"And he still desires you so?" she asked and was rewarded with a blush.

"He is most eager." Margaery said and Olenna was happy to note that Margaery too seemed eager, for that part of their match at least.

"You must make sure he's ready, sweetling, as we draw closer you must make him desire you even more." she said and Margaery looked at her slightly confused.

"I thought I must not go too far, grandmother?" she asked.

"Not in deed, but perhaps in word, sweetling." she said with a smile.

By the time she'd gotten to her room and was climbing into her bed, she was tired. She'd spoken to Margaery of a book that she knew was in the library. One that would explain why her granddaughter suddenly spoke of such things and she had told her to bring up that book to the prince as coyly as she could. Boys being boys, Gwayne would soon seek it out and the thoughts of doing what it suggested would be ones that would force him even more into Margaery's embrace.

Yet it was not to thoughts of roses, green hands, wolves, or growing strong that she fell to her sleep that night. It was the looming shadow of a dragon that she saw and she wondered if perhaps it was elsewhere she needed her granddaughter's wiles and seductive looks. There was another playing the game and that she wasn't certain who it was gave her pause and while she'd ruled out the dragon as the player, with him on their side they'd surely win the game. No, for now, her path was set, her course already defined, and years of work was close to fruition. She only hoped she was making the right choice and that even if she was not, there was still room left for her to maneuver.

The Conquest of Westeros part IX.

House Velaryon.

Where House Targaryen led, House Velaryon followed. The Old, the True, the Brave, and no house was as closely aligned with the dragons as the house of the Seahorse. Not even amongst the noblest of families in Essos and throughout the Empire had there been as many matches as there was between the Velaryon's and the Targaryens. The Masters of the Skies had many times sought their matches among the Masters of the Seas.

From closest confidants to Dragonriders, Empresses, and even the mother of the original Dragonknight, Empress Visenya. As the Empire went so went House Velaryon. In none was this more epitomized than with Aurane Velaryon, the brother by choice of Prince Aemon and closer to him than even his brother by blood. The second son of Lord Lucerys and a woman who none dared speak her name. It was through Aurane that House Velaryon had regained some of the favor that they'd lost some years earlier. Brought forward by the Empress of Ice to be by her son's side, as Aemon grew so did Aurane and so did the bond between them.

It was this bond that saw his older brother Monford welcomed back to the seat his family had lost on the High Council. Through his deeds that he accomplished with the Dragonknight and throughout the Empire that House Velaryon soon regained their lost honor. By his side or sailing his ships, charging into battle atop his steed while the Dragonknight and the Blood Wyrm rained fire down upon their enemies. Where one went so did the other and so upon being exiled by the High Emperor it was to no one's surprise that Aurane had left too. Driftmark and Dragonstone, Essos and Westeros, Aemon and Aurane, never had two brothers been closer or been so feared.

A history of the Conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

Gulltown 300 AC.

Aurane.

He looked out at the city in front of him as the Pride of Driftmark docked. Gulltown was a shithole in his opinion, a small little nothing of a town, and yet it was the gateway to the Vale. With a nod to his guards, he walked down the gangplank and made his way to the tavern first before going to speak to Lord Grafton later. Aurane wished to hear what was being said about Aemon and Gaelithox if anything was and the taverns were always a better source of information than the lords of Westeros ever would be.

A man with coin could learn many things and coin he had aplenty. It was all these people truly cared for he'd soon found out and they'd do anything to earn some of it. It was how he'd brought Lord Grafton to his side, though the man wasn't certain what his side was and Aurane was most pleased about that. Offers of trade with his brother and of now being a gateway to the Empire, Lord Grafton had jumped at the chance and he doubted even King Jon Arryn was welcomed as fondly as he was in the Lord of Gulltown's keep. On his first few visits to this city he'd faced some trouble, men seeing how much coin he carried had sought to take it from him, only to find it was not a good idea.

In the time he'd been in Westeros, which was coming ever closer to two years now, Aurane had been left unimpressed by their skills with a blade in hand. There were some large men, some strong men, and here in the Vale, they spoke of their knights as if they were some legendary force. Aurane had faced some of those knights in the things these people named as tourneys, only indifference stopping him from taking their prizes out from under their noses. He'd once fought in the fighting pits for a lark when in Meereen. Aemon and he had gotten drunk and wagered each other that neither would so so. There a man had to fight or he would die, here the fight was far lesser as were the men themselves.

"Some say the dragon wants it all." he heard a voice say.

"Hah, as if he could take it."

"The Stormlands perhaps or maybe the North, but not the West or the Reach and certainly not the Vale."

"Our knights would stick their lances right up the dragon's arse."

Aurane shook his head at the angered look on his guard's face. Insults to their prince and threats were not something they usually let slide, but he was not here to cause trouble. They were finally ready to sail and Aemon and he both wished to see into the places they would soon at war with. Daario had gone to the border of the Stormlands and Dorne and he had come here because it was only a few days sail back to Dragonstone. He wanted to know, as did his prince if anyone was expecting them to actually attack. Was there anyone other than the Storm King preparing for such or was it simply talk just like what he had heard in this tavern.

He truly believed it to be the latter. Aemon's waiting had an unexpected side effect and had lulled most if not all of the Seven Kingdoms into a false sense of security. Had they attacked not long after they arrived then it would have been harder, though how hard it would turn out to be was questionable. These men weren't Essosi, they weren't Unsullied or Dothraki, they weren't raiders from Northern Essos or mercenaries from Yi Ti. They'd never faced a dragon or had found themselves face to face with men that wielded flaming swords. The thoughts of what they'd do once they did so were now ones that amused him greatly.

For eight years he'd fought countless battles by Aemon's side, he'd been saved more than once by his prince and he, Daario, Thoros, and especially Torgho Nudho had returned the favor too. He'd faced off against a Dothraki Horde, a lockstep legion, and an Unsullied shield wall, and he'd come out the other side with nary a scratch. They'd been feted, cheered, named as heroes and his family had risen once more. Then without warning, all of it was taken away and the Empire's truest sword was sent far from its lands.

"No, not without warning." he said softly, a wry smile on his face.

Volantis 298 AC.

Aurane.

The last time they'd been here which was a little over eight moons earlier, he'd overheard the argument completely by accident. Why the High Emperor had decided to have it out with Aemon on the balcony was something that he still didn't know but he'd heard each and every one of the words.

"Your sister is to be wed to another, Aemon." Rhaegar said.

"Sold like a broodmare you mean." Aemon replied with disdain.

"It is the way of the world we both live in." Rhaegar said.

"Are we not the masters of that world? Do you not name yourself as such?"

"Even I have limits on my power, Aemon." Rhaegar said his frustration clear.

"Says who? Who dares tell the High Emperor, no? other than his son." Aemon said.

"You will stop this affair with your sister, Aemon, no longer will marriages between brother and sister or uncle and aunt be allowed for our house."

"For all of our house or just for me?" Aemon asked angrily.

"Don't test my will on this, I warn you." Rhaegar said before he stormed off.

It had been the wrong thing to say and so while they'd dealt with Dothraki and when Aemon had brought Khal Bharbo to his knees and then took his braid and his head, it was anger that he'd seen in his prince's eyes. The look he saw in those eyes right now was very much different. Aurane had always known that Aemon had loved Rhaenys, he'd known it from when they were boys and so he believed had everyone else. Rhaenys he knew felt the same too, though at times that could be hard to tell, and were it not for Aemon's words then he would have thought she did not.

"Our father forces his way into her head with his silly words and tales of madness." Aemon said.

"About your grandfather?" he asked and Aemon nodded.

"As if it was any but his own fault that Aerys lost his mind." Aemon scoffed.

"Does your father believe it so?" he asked.

"Even my father doesn't believe that which he'd have us all believe." Aemon said dismissively.

Aurane smiled when he saw Aemon sneak off and Rhaenys follow and then he gave it no more thought until the morrow. He had gotten drunk and the girl he'd laid with was unknown to him and what was worse he couldn't even remember laying with her. Just as he was in the process of rectifying that, the knock came on the door and he felt the pounding as if it was in his head.

"Go the fuck away." he shouted as the girl smiled at him.

"Aurane, it's Aemon, you need to come, something's going down at the Imperial Seat." Daario shouted back to him.

"What the fuck?" he said jumping up from the bed and opening his door, the sight of him naked bringing a raised eyebrow from Daario "Speak to me about the size of my cock another time, what's the fuck is going on?"

"Aemon and Rhaenys." Daario said and Aurane shook his head and dressed hurriedly.

Gulltown Now.

Aurane.

"Aurane, Aurane." one of his guards said and he turned to look at the man, memories of that day gone for now.

"What?"

"Lord Grafton's man." the guard said and he knew then that his day in the tavern was over.

He cared not for Ser Lyn Corbray, the man rubbed him the wrong way and so at the last tourney he'd taken part in, Aurane had made sure to beat him quickly so that he knew he was outmatched. It had not endeared him to him though Aurane had cared not. Rising to his feet, he and his guards paid for their drinks and made their way to where Ser Lyn stood with two other men.

"Lord Aurane, Lord Grafton has sent me to escort you to Gulltown." Ser Lyn said.

"Lead the way, Ser Lyn." he said smiling at the man and not bothered in the least when his smile was not returned.

"We had expected you to come straight to the keep when your ship landed, Lord Aurane."

"My men and I sought a drink after a dry journey, Ser Lyn, and it was ale, not wine we wished for." he said knowing that Lord Marq far preferred the latter.

"A good choice at times." Ser Lyn said humourlessly.

He declined the offer of staying the night and his visit cost him a little more coin as he had to make the excuse of another trading opportunity and that they had no rookery on Driftmark or Maester to send a raven even had they any to sent. It was a lie but one that couldn't be checked. As they set sail that night some things were now more clear to him. King Jon was not beloved as much as he wished and in Lord Marq, they had a potential ally. It would be enough to allow them to land men here should they wish, even if the Lord may not offer them any of his own.

Aurane stood on the deck as the ship sailed, the night's sky was clear and the cold winds blowing helped keep him alert. There was an old sailor's thing his father used to say and one that he always thought about when they were planning a campaign. It was one that was most apt for what they were about to unleash on Westeros and as the first little drops of rain hit his head, he smiled and he spoke it aloud.

"I like these calm little moments before the storm."

Summerhall 300 AC.

Daario Naharis.

They'd sailed from Dragonstone and had landed at the coast between Wyl and Stonehelm. Not close enough to either keep so as they'd been seen and Daario wouldn't have been able to give a truthful answer if he was asked whether he'd landed in Dorne or the Stormlands. What he did know was they picked up horses in a small village near Blackhaven, a little over half the number they had needed, and they then picked up the rest along the way. He found it incredibly amusing that all the suspicion and doubt that these people had naturally, would just leave them as soon as they saw the size of your coin purse.

The road they'd traveled was called the Boneway and they'd done so at night. They made their camp during the day far from the road and away from any prying eyes. One unfortunate traveler, they'd had to end though, as while it was one thing for someone to sell them horses and for news of that to eventually travel. A large group of men riding in the Stormlands and then being spoken of was a much more dangerous tale. Not that he would have minded if men had been sent out to deal with them as things had been dull since he'd come to this land after all. It just would have been an inconvenience and their task may have been compromised because of it.

According to his map, they were near a place called Summerhall, it was not the area's true name and what the Westerosi called it he knew not. Only that Aemon had told him that at one point the Conqueror had considered it as such. His prince had read the journals of the Conqueror and his wives, both on the conquest of Essos and the planned conquest of Westeros. While one was obviously far more detailed, there were little things about the other that for some reason Aemon had taken to heart. The Path between Dorne and the Stormlands, the Mountains of the Vale, the Green Lands of the Reach, the Open Ones of the Riverlands, and the Cold Winds of the North, the latter he'd experienced for himself.

It had surprised him when both the Empress's family and his Prince's hadn't welcomed Aemon with open arms. Had they done so then they would rise highest of all when Aemon took these lands and take them he would, of that he had no doubt. Yet his kin in the North had dared to look down and sneer at his prince and they were fools to do so. Though given how they lived and their lands then perhaps they were fools regardless, Daario thought with a snort. With the sun rising in the distance he raised his hand and they rode hard and fast to the woods ahead of them. Quickly they melted into them and set up their camp for the day.

"How much further?" Valarr asked as they sat and ate.

"A day, maybe two." Daario said.

"Trouble?" Jaedor asked far too eagerly.

"I doubt it unless they learn of us before then." Daario said to chuckles.

"Are we sure he'll be there?" Yraegon asked.

"When has Lucearon ever let us down or played us false?" Valarr asked and Daario nodded, their information would be good, his men were far too experienced for it not to be.

The Second Sons were his men amongst the prince's men, all of them including himself were just as the name suggested. They were the second sons of fathers that not many of whom cared about their existence or in his case even acknowledged it. He and his brother had been given away, they'd been sold as slaves and a lifetime in the pits had been what he'd expected until the High Emperor had seen something in him and had given him his freedom. From there he'd surrounded himself with men just like him and had done the Empire's wishes with little or no reward until he'd met the prince. Aemon had seen even more in him than his father had and under him, Daario had risen high as had the Second Sons.

He now had wealth and owned a manse, and had slept with more women in six years by Aemon's side than in the nine and twenty before then. His men had refined their skills, learned new tricks, and where Torgho Nudho and his men were Aemon's shields and Thoros and his were his swords, Daario and the Second Sons were his eyes and ears. Infiltration, kidnapping, blackmail, and assassination, whatever their prince demanded of them that's what he and his men would do and this mission required some if not all of the above. With a nod to his men, he moved to the shade of a tree and removed his Arakh and his lady. The Myrish stiletto had been a gift from Aemon and it was one he treasured greatly. Each night went to his bed it was with her that he went to sleep with held tightly in his hand.

It took them five more days to reach the village, the keep that was off in the distance was a large and imposing one and yet he feared it not. His men took up their positions and Valarr went looked for Lucearon, finding him exactly where he said he would be and with who he was supposed to be with. Now all he needed to do was wait for night to fall and for him and his men to cut a few throats. A man's work he thought with a smirk as he lay down near his horse in the stables. He didn't sleep, though he did close his eyes and formed the image of what he was about to do in his head, it was an image he knew all too well and it was one that bothered him not.

"It's time." he said a little later as he looked to the sky.

"All of them or do you wish one to live?" Jaedor asked and Valarr chuckled.

"When have we ever wished one to live?" Valarr asked bringing a smile to Daario's face.

Twenty men he had with him, less than half the Second Sons but he'd brought the best of them and as they made their way to the brothel he was glad of it. Lucearon had said the man had ten guards with him and they'd all be drinking or whoring when they got there and he quickly found this to be true. Only two of them were in any state to offer up resistance and he dealt with those himself. One with a slash from his Arakh that opened the man from his head to his stones and the other found his lady's kiss to be the last one he'd ever know.

"Quieten down girl, we're not here for you, so don't make us change our minds." Jaedor shouted and the girl did her best to do as she was bid, not quite managing to but it was enough.

Four men were killed in rooms as they rutted, one of whom lost his cock as he came after one of his men with the wrong sword in his hand. Three more had their throats slit as they slept, men who'd at least come before they'd gone, he thought with a laugh. He'd killed two and so that left… the sword barely missed him and the man seemed capable at least. Daario quickly holding his hand up to stop his men from joining in on this fight.

"Unfortunate." he said as he blocked the strike from the man's sword.

"I'll fucking gut you." the man said and Daario laughed as he easily blocked yet another strike from the man.

"You missed your chance, Ser?" he asked as he danced away from the man's pitiful attempts to end his life.

"Ser Meryn Trant, you blue bearded fuck." Ser Meryn sneered.

"Good, I'll know who to send word of your death to." he said ducking under the sword and bringing up his lady beneath Ser Meryn's chin, the push was easy and the death quick "Had you a better aim then you'd have lived longer, not much, but longer." he said as he pulled his lady from Ser Meryn's chin and watched the body fall to the floor.

"We have him." Valarr said the sound of his voice making him turn around and Daario nodded at him as he moved from the body on the floor.

They dragged the man from the brothel, he'd been beaten and was barely conscious though at least they'd dressed him or had found him while he was still dressed. Reaching to his belt he took the larger of his coin purses and looked to the women who'd stayed quiet enough once they'd realized they were not to be harmed.

"For your trouble." he said as he threw the purse on the table and with that they were gone.

Lucearon and Valarr took their prize between them and they rode hard from the village with only the light of the moon at their backs. It took them a day and night to reach the river and their men with the boats and another two days to row out to sea. This time he cared not if they were seen because by the time the alarm was truly raised they'd be long gone and who they were wouldn't be a secret for long anyway. Their prisoner remained quiet and sullen and Daario much appreciated it. He'd expected pleading and demands to be released but this one at least seemed to have his wits about him and knew enough to know that his pleas would fall on deaf ears. Other than how he looked at Lucearon with both anger and hurt in equal measure, the man never even looked his way.

"Don't worry, Lord Renly, if we wished you dead then you'd be dead but my prince wishes to speak to you. Be sure to use that wicked tongue of yours in a far more respectful way when you do so, his temper can be a thing to behold at times." Lucearon said as they bundled Renly Baratheon onto the ship and set sail for Dragonstone.

The Conquest of Westeros X.

The Sword of the Morning.

Ser Arthur Dayne, the High Emperor's most trusted adviser and closest friend and the most feared swordsman in Essos. Only he and the Dragonknight knew which of them was the truer blade and not one person alive had ever seen them cross swords. What was known was that with Dawn in his hand there was not a man in Essos who'd dare try their luck against him in a fight for blood. A few had done so in exhibitions and found what they had thought was the truth. Though it was clear that Ser Arthur used only minimal effort in those.

Dawn like Dark Sister was not a blade wielded by just anyone and The Sword of the Morning just like the Dragonknight's was not a title that was given freely. What it took to earn the epithet and be given leave to wield the famed blade was a secret known only to those of House Dayne and one they were unwilling to share. Arriving in the Empire first for adventure and then as Princess Elia's escort. It was his friendship with the High Emperor and Rhaegar's subsequent marriage to a Princess of Dorne that had decided Ser Arthur's path in life.

For more than twenty years were Rhaegar went, Arthur followed. Never more than a few feet away and never a day spent under any roof that the High Emperor himself wasn't sharing, Ser Arthur's loyalty was never in doubt. Yet in 300 AC Ser Arthur Dayne set sail for Westeros and never again would he set foot on Essosi shores. The Greatest Swordsman that ever lived had a new path to follow and a new back to shield and Westeros was soon to learn that Dawn's song was not one it wished to hear sung.

A History of the conquest of the Dragonknight,

Marwyn the Mage.

Volantis 300 AC.

The Sword of the Morning.

He'd expected the call from the moment Aemon had been sent into exile and so it surprised him that it took so long for it to come. Though Arthur had expected her to leave long before now too if he was being honest. Why it had taken Rhaenys so long he could only put down to the foolishness that Rhaegar had spoken to her and it was something he and his closest friend had argued about more than once. He knew Rhaegar's mind, or as well as any including the man himself did and he'd told him that on this he had gone too far. But he'd not been listened to and his counsel had been ignored.

It had not been the first time over the years that this was the case and the last had not ended well either. Rhaegar's obsession was still something that he believed had cost Aemon a mother and the Empire one of its two Empresses. He'd listened with Elia but not with Lyanna and though he loved his friend, he still hadn't forgiven him for her death. Still, the call had come and he would answer to its mummery and to its true design. Standing in front of the looking glass, he made sure his armor was spotless, and then picking up Dawn and strapping it to his back, Arthur walked out from his room.

He looked around at the walls that had long been his home, the corridors that he knew by heart, and the tapestries and decorations that had first left him amazed and had over time almost become unseen to him. Images of the Empire in all its glory and in some of its horrors. The good and the bad of 300 years of rule, from the Conquest to the Dance and the Blackfyre Rebellion, to the fall of each of the Dragonknights. Not one of them dying peacefully and in their beds and he closed his eyes and prayed that Aemon would be the exception to that rule.

"Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning." the herald called out and Arthur walked into the room, unsheathed Dawn, and took a knee before the Imperial Seat.

"I have come before the High Emperor to answer his call." Arthur said as he looked up at Rhaegar and at Elia as she sat beside him.

"I have a task for you, Ser Arthur, one that you and you alone are capable of seeing done. Will you accept this task?" Rhaegar asked.

"Humbly and with gratitude High Emperor." Arthur said.

"My daughter Princess Rhaenys has decided against my wishes to visit her brother on Dragonstone, Ser Arthur. I task you with delivering this decree to both my children. Prince Aemon, the Dragonknight Reborn is to remain exiled for two more years but is then given leave to return to the Empire and retake his place by my side. Princess Rhaenys is to cut short her visit to her brother and to return forthwith under pain of incurring my displeasure even further than she already has." Rhaegar said his voice regal and yet his words and expression not ringing true to him if not to anyone else.

"As the Empire commands." he said rising to his feet and placing his hand over his heart.

The mummery somehow seemed to work, the representatives of the faith nodded and smiled at each other while the princess's betrothed looked pleased that his shame had been addressed. Even if the man was a fool that didn't realize he'd now never gain a princess's hand. Rhaegar gave him a look that said they would talk more but it was Elia who bid him follow. Arthur doing just that and nodding to Viserys as he spoke to Varys and some of the other High Council members.

It was to the balcony that Elia headed and he quickly joined her. The Empress of the Sun looking out on the city below with a fond smile on her face, one that wasn't there when she turned to him. There was a time when some thought Elia weak, of mind, body, and spirit and Arthur had always laughed at the notion that it was true in any of those things. Elia was a Martell, a viper as true as her brother ever was and vipers lie and wait before they strike. That was what she'd done, waited, played weak and when the time was right, she struck and her enemies hadn't even seen her coming.

"You think me a fool, Arthur?" Elia asked her eyes promising much and nothing pleasant were he to lie.

"I know you're not, Elia." he said.

"That mummery may fool those who see only what they wish, but they are not a mother, and whatever you and my husband have planned it stops now." Elia said.

"I have no plans and no true orders, Elia. I will go and do what I must and only what I must." he said and she glared at him.

"This is foolhardy and idiotic, these plans of his. I loved her too, Arthur, I loved her too but she was wrong, she was very wrong, surely you can see that?" Elia asked, her voice less firm than it had once been.

"You know nothing, Arthur Dayne." he said with a smile "That's what she would tell me, Elia. I know nothing and she was always right about that. Lyanna I believe is right about this."

"Rhaenys…"

"Will have mine and Aemon's swords to protect her and the love that she wants most of all." he said and turned to walk away.

"I'll end you, Arthur, if you're wrong I'll end you, you know this to be true." Elia said as he nodded and walked from the balcony.

Weak in mind, body, and spirit, only a fool would think a princess of House Martell could be that way in any of those things. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken, it was not Doran nor Oberyn who lived those words as well as Elia did and so Arthur knew the truth in her words. He'd known it then and he knew it now and as he walked to say his goodbyes to Rhaegar, he found his mind going back to days long ago and to a young princess who dared to think she could succeed where so many before her had failed.

Volantis 278 AC.

The Sword of the Morning.

He'd not meant his tales to inflame her passions or to gain her interest and yet they had. Elia no longer looked to Dorne for a husband but sought someone that her brothers believed she'd have no chance with. The High Emperor would marry his sister should one be born to his mother and father, or a cousin, or one of the noble ladies from Essos. Never would he wed a lady from Westeros and word had already reached them that he'd turned down Tywin Lannister's golden lioness. Though given Cersei was still a child perhaps that was the reason, as the girl's mother was a beauty by all accounts.

Yet Elia had been sure that if he was all that Arthur had claimed him to be then she could charm Rhaegar and make him hers. So by her mother's leave, Elia had been allowed to travel to Volantis and Arthur had gone with her to serve both as guide and escort. Prince Oberyn had been refused leave to do likewise and other than Lady Mellario and some guards it had been a small party that had been granted an audience with the High Emperor Aerys and the Empress of Dragons, Rhaella.

The dye had been cast long before they reached the Imperial Seat though as once Prince Rhaegar had heard that he'd arrived back in the city he'd come to greet him personally and once there it had been Elia who'd taken his attention. Arthur almost forgotten on the ride back to the Grand Palace as Rhaegar and Elia spoke softly and quietly to each other. Their welcome by the High Emperor was much less welcoming and Arthur tried not to bristle at how he greeted Elia.

"Father, may I present Princess Elia Nymeros Martell of Dorne and Lady Mellario of Norvos, Ser Arthur you've already met." Rhaegar said as Elia stepped forward.

"She smells Dornish to me." Aerys said wrinkling his nose up as he looked the princess up at down.

"A fine scent High Emperor and one I wear with pride." Elia said to a smile from the Empress and a twinkling of Aerys eyes.

"As well you might." Aerys said.

They were feasted that night and to the annoyance of the other ladies present, Rhaegar spent the whole night speaking to or dancing with Elia and within a week he'd confided in him that he was very much in love. Elia he'd heard doing likewise with her goodsister and yet he still didn't believe that a match would be made right up until it was. It wasn't the High Emperor who decided it nor even Rhaegar in the end. Instead, it was Empress Rhaella after a conversation with Elia on the balcony that overlooked the city below.

"My son shows more interest in you than in any of those we've sought to match him with thus far, can you tell me why that is, Elia?"

"I do not know, Empress, only that his interest is one I share just as deeply. From the moment Ser Arthur spoke of your son I've longed to meet him. The tales were ones I was loathe and yet eager to believe and they do not do him justice. I'll not speak of how handsome I find him, the platitudes of the beauty of those of your house no doubt bore even you by now, Empress." Elia said and Rhaella chuckled.

"A curse, but one far better than the alternative I find." Rhaella said and this time it was Elia who laughed.

"What I'll say is that it's not his position but his mind that intrigues me and that I've sought a match and found none to my liking for far too long. I am soon to reach my one and twentieth years, Empress, old for a match in my lands and no doubt yours too, but the reason I've reached it unwed is I believe, your son." Elia said.

"You believe you were fated to be wed?" Rhaella asked.

"I do not know about fate, Empress. I believe my heart bid me wait and does so no longer and I hope it's as true with your son's own?" Elia said.

"There would be those against such a match, those who think you unworthy." Rhaella said.

"I care not for what others think of me, other than they'll soon learn that I'm very much not." Elia said determinedly.

"Then you've earned a mother's blessing." Rhaella said.

Two moons later they were married and within a moon Elia was with child

Volantis now.

The Sword of the Morning.

Rhaegar had spoken and yet not, words that were not the words he wished to and yet the only ones he could speak. Elia had just looked at him and spoken with her eyes while he'd then said his goodbyes to each of the family. Aegon was annoyed to see him leave and he knew that was because he wished to have him by his side, while Viserys seemed more worried than anything else. Daenerys was sadder than both and only the thoughts that he'd soon be returning with Rhaenys by his side were enough to keep her tears at bay.

As the ship sailed out from the bay and he looked back at the city he found himself wondering if he'd ever see it again. Was this the last time he'd speak to any of them and were the words that Lyanna had said to him all those years ago now to come true? It was perhaps why he stayed on the deck until the city was long gone from view and why he didn't move to his cabin until night began to fall. Arthur looked forward to seeing Rhaenys, Aemon, and those who'd left Volantis when he had, it was the others things that he didn't look forward to.

"He will be the wonder and terror of his age Arthur. The wonder to those who support him and the terror to those who face his fury. It is by his side that your name will live on long after you have fallen, by his side you'll reach your greatest heights, and by his side that you'll meet your end. Fear not for that end will come not on foreign shores and not without its glory. Fear not for when it comes you'll welcome it and what an end it shall be." Lyanna said as she held Aemon in her arms.

The Stepstones 300 AC.

Rhaenys.

Meraxes had taken her to Lys, it shouldn't have been a surprise to her and yet it was and she was angry with her dragon when they landed. It turned out though that Meraxes had known far better than she and not long after they'd done so, a storm had blown that she'd have been caught in. Rhaenys tried not to laugh at the look that Meraxes gave her, the dragon practically telling her that she knew better and not to question her again.

She stayed at the palace that overlooked the nursery, the smaller dragons welcoming Meraxes's presence and Rhaenys happy enough to spend a night in a bed, change her clothes and have a warm and soothing bath. The food was better too as she'd brought little with her and though she'd enjoyed what Meraxes had found for her, she missed the comfort of eating from a plate and sitting at a table. Her cousin Daeron was the Imperial Governor of Lys and Master of the Dragon Nursery and he welcomed her with open arms. As did his wife Elaena when she saw who had arrived. Both of them more than happy to see her as it had been many years since she'd last visited the home of the dragons.

It had been here that she'd claimed Meraxes for her own, her bond had formed truly in this place after she'd heard her dragon's call. For now, there were only three hatchlings here and their own bonded were young and so it was to the sound of children's laughter that she awoke. Rhaenys broke her fast with Daeron, Elaena, and the children of her other cousin the Imperial Governor of Qarth, Baelon, and each of the children asked her what it was like to fly on a dragon's back.

"Is it scary?" the youngest girl asked fearfully.

"No little one, it's anything but scary, it's exciting and fun, just like tickles." she said grabbing the girl and making her laugh.

"How long must we wait?" the oldest boy asked impatiently.

"A few more years, but soon you and they will be able to return to your home." she said.

"Mama says that we can't name them yet." the other girl said sadly.

"No, not until you leave but you can think of names for them and try them out, soon they'll let you know which the right one is." Rhaenys said.

"They will?" the youngest girl asked excitedly.

"They will." she said to beaming smiles from the two girls.

As soon as they were finished eating their meal all three were gone from the room and she knew the day they'd have ahead of them. The storm had now passed and so she knew the day that was ahead of her. Daeron gave her supplies and he and Elaena both asked her to give their love to Aemon. Rhaenys not needing to ask them how they knew where she was going. As before Meraxes once again refused to bring her to where she wished to go and this time she'd learned her lesson and didn't show her anger. Though it turned out it was not for a storm that she'd landed in the Stepstones.

At first, she'd thought it must be and then as she slept by Meraxes's side that night she'd felt the dragon's excitement and found herself hoping she was right. When she woke the next morning it was to the skies she looked and she wished she had the eyes of a dragon when she heard Meraxes's happy call. It took her time to see them, the sun was behind some clouds and the sky was darker than she would have liked but soon the red wings were clear to her and she smiled as Gaelithox drew closer. It was only when she saw Aemon on his dragon's back that her worries soon took over.

Had she waited too long?

Did he still wish for what he'd told her in his song?

Was he angry with her?

Would it be the same as it had always been between them?

The answers to those questions were answered the moment he landed. Aemon climbed down off Gaelithox's back and the Blood Wyrm and the Silver Dragon called out to each other and took to the skies. Their song rang out as they flew together across the bay and out over the sea. Her eyes were on Aemon's as he moved towards her and she held her breath before he took away all her worries and doubts. His lips were all she could concentrate on as he kissed her with a hunger that showed no signs of being sated anytime soon.

"Aemon." she said happily as she looked at him when he finally gave her a moment to catch her breath.

"I missed you, gods I missed you. You're here? You're truly here?" he said his fingers touching her face as his eyes looked deeply into her own.

"I'm sorry, I should have…I'm sorry." she said as he grabbed her and held her tightly and she hoped he'd never let her go.

"You're here, Rhae, for true? Please, tell me that you're here?" he asked and she told him that she was and that she'd never leave his side again.

"I love you, Aemon, I swear that nothing will ever make me think of not being with you again. I am yours if you want me?" she asked nervously.

"You're all I've ever wanted. Marry me? Say you will. Be my wife, Rhae?" he asked and she nodded happily.

"Yes." she said as she kissed him deeply.

She knew there were things that they needed to speak on, apologies that she'd need to make, and explanations that Aemon would seek from her. Now was not the time for that, she didn't wish to speak on it and Aemon didn't wish to hear it from her. All either of them wanted was to be together, to know that they would be together and nothing else truly mattered other than that.

The KIngdom of the Reach.

House of the Green Hand.

King Gareth Gardener age 44.

Queen Melessa Gardener age 43.

Prince Gwayne Gardener age 17.

House Tyrell.

Lady Olenna Tyrell age 72.

Lord Mace Tyrell age 46.

Lady Alerie Tyrell age.45.

Ser Willas Tyrell 27.

Ser Garlan Tyrell the Gallant age 23.

Ser Loras Tyrell age 18.

Margaery Tyrell age 17.

Deceased

Lord Luthor Tyrell died 260 AC age 34 (rode off a cliff while looking into the air while hawking.).

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed: Up next We take a look into the Stormlands as Aemon and Rhaenys get closer and news reaches the North that sets a king on a furious path while in the Reach an intriguing offer sets a prince and a king on a collision course and on Dragonstone we learn more about Aemon's plans and his sworn shield.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Huntsman: He did, we'll see it explained more in detail next chapter.

Emerald Duke: It's easy to hate him though isn't it lol.

Classicxd: So very glad you enjoyed it.

Mr2legit: We'll see with Robert, one of the things I'm trying to do is to establish the players so it'll be another couple of chapters before true moves are made.

Zyrus: With Dawn, it's truly down to the wielder I'd imagine, I mean after all Arthur in canon left Dorne with Dawn to be by Rhaegar's side anyway, so other than a further distance it's no real difference. Aemon and those with him are probably cocky enough to face Jaime, you're right Jaime is as he is in canon, but one of the things from Aemon and his side is that they're a little like the Romans, all are beneath them in their minds, whether that's true in practice we'll see.

Undeath. So after the fall of the Valyria, you have the century of blood and it's there where the Dothraki truly rise. That pretty much covers from the doom to Aegon's conquest. They were never broken during this time, they lost to the Three Thousand of Qohor but Essos pretty much fights against itself in the power vacuum left by Valyria's fall. Then in canon, it becomes the Essos we know since Aegon looked west instead of east. Here he goes east but over the next 300 hundred years it takes a lot of conquering and so the Dothraki are in a way unconquered. They've gained ground at times, lost ground at times and every so often a Khal rises to threaten the Empire (Bharbo here who Aemon defeats) but they don't end them all, he's just the most powerful, and given their nomadic nature, they're harder to completely get rid of.

I will show the Lyanna/Rhaegar meeting/marriage etc, yes. You're right on Cat/Ned, The Tully's sought a good match and Rickard was looking south but the Hoares rule here.

Robert is a Baratheon, Aegon didn't send Orys but Orys didn't' travel east with him and his sister wives and we'll see how things are how they are in the next chapter. Glad you like Aemon as the name it's one of my faves. Gaelithox hatched not long after he was born so he's 20 years old too but he's far larger than most, around Drogon end of season 8 size. Will it be the targs though? As in are both parts of the whole or two separate entities? Aemon is not doing this for Rhaegar and would not give up his crown, so we'll see. I've not fully decided what to do with the NW as of yet, they don't have the New Gift and there may be differences in their makeup simply because of the lack of certain known names there, no Jeor for example, and no Alliser lol.

Guest: So glad you're enjoying it. Where would we be without Lannister schemes and now Olenna has entered the mix lol. Rhaegar is playing his own game, which we'll learn more of as we go but as you see he wasn't the only one playing it. Why? What the reason if for it? We'll learn more as we go. Rhaegar/Aemon have always had a strained relationship mainly because in a lot of ways they're very much alike, even if they go different ways about things.

Celexys: That's one of the reasons I wanted to pick this as Aemon in Westeros rather than Essos, we know a lot of the players already which takes me having to explain them off the table lol, instead I just need to show the differences and then expand upon them. So yes, having the Hound with Tyrion changes things and we'll see that play out.

Dunk: One of the things with Aemon is he was brought up very differently here. Both being a prince, the Empire itself and then being a Dragonknight. In one way I see him as a Roman general and when faced with those against them there is a degree of arrogance because well, they're roman. So with the Essosi and Aemon there is a lot of that. They see Westeros as behind and beneath them in so many ways. So at times, they're contemptuous of them and then you add in that unlike in canon, Tyrion hasn't been around a court. There is no king's landing and those around him in Casterly Rock are not as cunning or deceitful. Aemon on the other hand has been born and raised at a court where this is very much the case, so unlike Tyrion with Jon Snow and him being the one more experienced in such things, it's the flip side of it here.

I won't comment on Harrenhal lol.

I will show Cersei in a bit, I just wanted to give more a glimpse than a complete view of each kingdom and so as we go it'll go much more in-depth, and yes, how you imagine her is pretty much how she is. Also, Tywin/Jaime/Tyrion had more a role to play at first here. Tywin is hampered by thinking like a Westerosi in part, in that again he'd not truly had to work against the other kingdoms as much as he has in canon and so he ascribed motives to Aemon that he may not have. Hope the Arthur bit sheds some light on the darkness, we'll see more of it and learn more of the plans that Rhaegar has had and some of the other moves he's been making. We're almost a the raining down of fire, I think we're still in almost a false war situation as I really want to show all the players first.

Keb: Thank you so very much, glad you liked it.

Atray: I don't actually hate the North, more I pick a Jon character based on certain truths. In TDC it's early enough for those truths to play out a certain way and when it comes to the North, he actually does a whole lot for them there. With the Starks, my thing again is what level of truth Jon has in regards to who he is and when that truth is revealed. So a Jon post-season 8 should feel bitter ins some ways, while a Jon prior to that should not and I usually have that bitterness directed at Ned.

See for me it's this if Ned tells Jon the truth early then he takes a lot of that bitterness away, but if you were Jon, you go to the Wall, you die and are resurrected and then you find out that the man you thought you're father lied to you, and in essence took away any choice you ever had, then you should be bitter and angry at him. So as I said, it's more the when of it and sometimes the how of it that I think about.

In relation to you're idea, I'm actually speaking with a friend of mine on some collaborative stories I intend to do (I've too many in the pipeline to take one on by myself) and we're literally discussing the who, when, how of such a fic. So while I'll not say it's to be soon, I am in the process of plotting it out and Ned is one of the ones we're looking at sending back in time.

On the true love thing, for me it's easier to write than the enemies to lovers or the more political marriage, and yet I've got a couple of fics coming up where I intend to give that a go. My only thing against the multiple pairings is that I think they're hard to do if you think logically about them. For example, Dany/Marge/Jon only works if Dany is unable to have children, otherwise, you're setting the seeds for huge problems down the line and so you almost need a conqueror style fic for it to work. I think Jon/Rhaenys/Dany raised in exile in Essos for example can be sold far easier than Jon marrying Sansa/Dany or Sansa/Marge or any combo you can think of.

Lord of the east: Your command is my wish.

Xan Merrick: Tyrion cant be a targ here, there hasn't been an opportunity to happen. The one advantage Tywin has with his arrogance is that Aemon is arrogant too lol.

Xand007: Thank you, my friend. We'll see if you're right about Rhaegar, at the moment I've no plans for an extra bride, but things could change, I can see the logic in it. Tywin has spies but no spymaster and it is an issue for him. Aemon wanted Tywin to know he'd done his homework lol. There has already been a dance in this universe, though not the same dance lol. Stay safe and well my friend.

Affie: For the foreseeable future, each Friday, I'll let people know if that's to change.

Mightbeinsane: We'll see that meeting with Ned and Aemon in a little while. You'll have a bit more insight into how the North thinks next and I hope I answered how Rhaegar/Arthur hooked up, we'll see more of that later though.