Chapter 9: Don't Fear the Blood Wyrm

The Conquest of Westeros XXIII.

High Emperor Rhaegar Targaryen.

The High Emperor was a mercurial man, to say the least. A man who did things that no other High Emperor had ever even thought to do. Such as marrying women from Westeros and not Essos, and inviting members of the Faith of the Seven to his court and to the Empire in general. He faced down opposition to his edicts and his will and as High Emperor he brought more land and subjects to the Empire than his three predecessors combined.

Not only did he do this by knowing when and where to send the Dragonknight to bend people to the Empire's will or to bring them back in line. He also knew far better than most how to use the threat of unleashing the Dragonknight upon those he sought to reach an agreement with. The use of force was a last resort, a threat to be held in reserve and though unafraid to use that force, at times it was far more effective to use the threat itself.

A learned man, a wise man, a man of culture and of varied interests, the High Emperor was a man who few truly knew and even fewer understood. What had truly made him risk the Empire's security and its hopes for expansion when he exiled the Dragonknight, only the High Emperor himself could speak on. Whether he knew what such an act would bring about, only Rhaegar himself could say. The fate of millions was changed by one single decision though and whether it was a risk or not, evidently the rewards were very much worth it.

A history of the conquest of Westeros,

Marwyn the Mage.

The Bloody Gate 300 AC.

Rhaenys.

She smelt them before she arrived, the odor of burned bodies was in the air, and even before she saw the smoke she knew. When she did see the plumes of smoke rising in the sky it was to Aemon her thoughts turned, to him and him alone. Rhaenys knew that he'd not been harmed, had he been so then Meraxes would have felt it through her bond with Gaelithox and the silver dragon would have flown ever more quickly to get here. It wasn't his physical well-being that she was worried about, but his emotional one.

Her husband had fought in countless battles and he'd always waved off her concerns about the toll they took. She had never believed him though and had seen it in his eyes from time to time. Never before had she been so close to him when it had just happened and when he'd only just unleashed the Blood Wyrm's flames. So when they flew over the remnants of what looked like a keep and she saw the true extent of what a dragon could do, her eyes sought and found Aemon and Meraxes then brought her to where he and Gaelithox were.

He wore a smile on his face when he greeted her, Rhaenys climbed down quickly from Meraxes back and almost ran over to him. Such was her need to hold him in her arms that she completely forgot about Arthur and never even noticed Aurane standing off to one side. That it had also allowed her to ignore the sounds of some men who'd not died immediately and who were crying out in pain, was something she was grateful for later that day. For now, all she cared about was Aemon and her eyes roamed over each and every inch of him just to be certain that he was truly unhurt.

"Aems." she said as he took her in his arms, her words soon silenced by the kiss he gave her.

"It's good to see you safe." they both said at the same time when Aemon stopped kissing her and instead looked deeply into her eyes.

"Were there any…Did you lose any?" she asked worriedly, knowing how much his men meant to him.

"No, we never truly engaged with them other than Daario and the Second Sons, the fight was just the Blood Wyrm and I." Aemon said and she saw some worry in his eyes, some doubts that maybe she'd think badly of him for what he'd done here.

"Good." she said firmly and then his doubt was soon completely gone.

"All went well with you?" he asked and though she didn't answer, she really didn't have to so well did he knew her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned her head on his shoulder as Arthur made his way over to them. Aurane joining them as the two dragons had their own reunion and then Meraxes lay down to rest while Gaelithox took to the sky.

"He's going for food for her, I think my dragon is trying to tell me that I've been a most ungracious host. Arthur, you'll join us?" Aemon asked with a smirk on his face and Arthur nodded.

Taking her hand in his, Aemon led them further away from the dragon's lair and past far more bodies than she had ever seen before. The smell was truly hitting her now and she was relieved when she found that their camp was some distance from the fiery ruin they'd left behind. Seeing what looked to be onions hanging from poles around the camp, she looked closer to see that it was both onions and garlic and they had been cut open before being placed there.

"For the smell." Aemon whispered as they reached a large open fire that had some pots of food being cooked over it.

"I can't smell it." she said a few moments later when she breathed in deeply.

"It covers up the smell of the fire, in a few hours not even the dead will smell, but for now we use this. Aemon said picking up a clove of garlic.

Perhaps it should disturb her that he'd found a way to mask the smell of burning flesh. Maybe she should feel something about the fact that he'd clearly been around it so often that he'd found the need to. Instead, it was the looks on Aemon's men's faces, the way they were able to eat their fill which they'd not have been able if they'd had that awful smell surrounding them. It was that she concentrated on and she knew that her husband had found this solution not for him, but for them.

"Eat." Aemon said handing her a bowl of stew and a large chunk of bread.

"Aems, I'm not…"

"Eat." he said as he kissed her cheek.

She may have been about to tell him that she wasn't hungry, but the way she ate the stew and bread and washed it down with a mug of sweetened summer wine would have named her a liar. Aemon didn't eat and she called him out on it only for Aurane to tell her that he never did. That he'd not do so until the next day as he felt it wrong to eat on the same day that he'd killed men who'd now eat no more. Her husband's brother by choice telling her this after Aemon said he wasn't hungry and moved away from her to make sure that all those who sat with them had eaten their share.

"I need to speak to the prisoners, we'll speak when I get back." Aemon said kissing her cheek once more before he and Torgho Nudho moved from the fire and walked towards the back of the camp.

"He has a routine, princess. His own way of dealing with all he's done" Thoros said as he took a seat across from her.

"Does he think what he's done was wrong?" she asked worriedly, not wishing for him to carry such doubts alone.

"No. He takes no pleasure in ending life though, no comfort in what he and the Blood Wyrm do. It's a means to an end, a necessary thing, and the only part of it that brings him any joy is knowing that by doing so he protects those who fight for him." Aurane said looking at her.

"Does he seem sad to you?" she asked softly and Aurane shook his head.

"Far from it. Trust me, princess, this is not about sadness, it's just what he needs to do." Aurane said and she looked to Arthur who nodded his head to show her that he agreed.

It was decided they'd not march that day, Aemon coming back and telling them that the prisoners had refused to bend the knee, but they'd only refused because of their families. She worried that would mean they'd lose their lives, only for Aemon to tell her that instead they'd be used as hostages to bring their families to their side. That one or two of those who survived were from some of the most prominent families in the Vale. The Knight of the Bloody Gate being a Waynwood and one of the others being a Hunter.

"Come with me." Aemon said as night began to fall, Rhaenys following him eagerly to their tent "God's I missed you." he said kissing her once they reached it.

"I missed you too." she said as he began to undress her.

They'd not spoken about her visit to Dorne and he'd not even asked her how it had gone. Other than making sure she was well, he'd not truly spoken to her on anything of import. As she felt his lips on the back of her neck and her dress fall to the ground, it was clear there would be no talking now either. Rhaenys finding herself more than pleased with this and soon to be even more pleased as Aemon's tongue and fingers began to do their wicked work.

It was only as they lay together afterward that they spoke about each of their respective journeys. Rhaenys listening as Aemon told her that at first, his mother's family had blamed him for his grandfather's murder, and then once they'd realized he'd not been involved, they'd welcomed him somewhat. Though just as with Dorne, the North hadn't knelt or named themselves an ally and would need to be brought to their knees rather than kneel willingly.

"You liked your cousins?" she asked as she rested her head on his chest.

"As much as I could with only knowing them a night. The two boys were young, but the youngest one is a fierce little thing and though the older is quieter, there is a resolve there I think." Aemon said.

"And the girls?" she asked curiously.

"Arya is much like my mother's journals spoke of herself, a true Northern woman. Sansa is perhaps more suited to court, she reminded me somewhat of Dany." Aemon said a smile on his face "Your own?"

"Arianne, Quentyn, and Trystane I spent too little time with. My cousins that I'd not met before were much like the ones I had. I believe that Oberyn's daughters could perhaps belong to no other man than he." she said with a chuckle as she remembered Dorea and Loreza mimicking their older sisters.

"And Doran?" he asked.

"My uncle is much like my mother spoke to me about. Much like your own, perhaps." she said as she turned to look at him.

"Brandon is a fool and he's too prone to outbursts to be the one in charge. Ned is more agreeable, oh he's a proud and stubborn man too, but we can't hold that against him." Aemon said and she giggled before she answered.

"No we cannot, after all we're not hypocrites." she said before shrieking as he rolled on top of her and began to tickle her.

"I am not proud and stubborn, I'm determined, focussed, and resolute." he said ticking her and kissing her cheek each time he spoke.

"Aems…Aems…" she said pushing him away as she tried to catch her breath and stop herself from laughing too much.

He let her calm down and then poured her a mug of water which she drank gratefully before laying her head back down onto his chest.

"How do we bring them to our side?" she asked curiously.

"The same way we bring them all to our side. They see what we can do and they kneel, or else we do what we do and that brings them to their knees." Aemon said and she nodded.

When she woke the next morning he told her what he'd done as he left the North and the message he'd left behind. Aemon for the first time looking and sounding as if he had some real doubts in himself and his actions and it took her a moment to realize that the reason for those doubts was her.

"Would those men have caused trouble for your family in the North?" she asked and he nodded "And for us?" she asked and he nodded again "Then you did what was needed. You knew it was the right thing to do, didn't you?"

"I knew. Just as I knew with the Bloody Gate. They need to learn, to see and though I'll not hold back and show them firsthand if need be, they're still my mother's kin. Better they kneel before they face me than after they do." Aemon said looking at her and she moved closer to him so that she could kiss his lips.

"It matters not in the end, though does it?" she asked and he smirked.

"No, either way, they'll end up on their knees." Aemon said determinedly.

Stoney Sept 300 AC.

Robert Baratheon.

The girl was damned god and he lay back in the bed while her mouth did the work. He'd spent so many times in her already that were he to give her a silver stag for each of them, then she'd be as rich as the Lannister's, he thought with a laugh. Robert had been sure he not be able to rise again, that he was done and finally he'd been sated. So sure was he that when the girl had suggested she could not only make him rise but get him to release his seed once more, he'd promised her a golden stag if she could do so.

"By the gods, girl, you've got a mouth on you." he said as he felt himself grow closer "By the gods…."

He looked down between his legs and breathed heavily. All he could see of the girl was her blond hair and deep green eyes and he watched as her mouth worked the last of his seed from his now flaccid cock. She stood up and opened her mouth and he laughed loudly as he reached over to his coin purse. The golden stag soon flying through the hair and he laughed once again as she swallowed his seed and caught the coin at almost the same time. Should he pass back this way after he ended the dragon, then he'd see she was brought back to Storm's End. A girl this talented was wasted here.

"Go, you've done your king a fine service this night." he said as she ran from the room and he stood up and moved to the privy to empty his bladder.

Outside in the tents where he'd chosen to stay, he knew his brother would be grinding his teeth just at the thoughts of what he had been doing in this brothel. He'd listened to him gainsay him enough about this march already and so when they'd reached the town he'd no longer been willing to listen anymore. They were marching to battle, the chance for death was higher than it had ever been and Stannis would still deny him what little comforts he could find. His brother didn't understand that when you stood on the very edge of the world and looked over, then and only then were you truly alive.

A fight, a true fight against a worthy foe, gods how he'd longed for such a thing all his life. The entirety of Westeros had marched their way to the Riverlands. Well, all but those cowardly Reach fuckers and the Dornish cunts, he thought with a laugh as he made his way back to the bed. The wolves, gods he fucking hated those fucks as much as he hated the dragons. It had been that stupid fucker Rickard Stark who'd made the suggestion that had led to his shame. Robert smirking as he spat on the ground and wished that it had been his hammer that had brought about the man's end.

The wolves marched, as did the fucking Reavers, the Iron Born though should stick to the waves for on land they'd be as useless as a cock on a whore. Even the Old Lion had stirred from beneath his Rock and Robert wished he could have seen his face when he found out that he'd pissed all over his plans. It was the dragon though, the dragon who he wished to face and whose bones he'd soon grind to dust. Bad enough that he was who he was, but he had dared to threaten him, him, Robert Baratheon the Storm King.

"I'll fucking kill you boy, I'll kill you for daring to do what you've done."

"Renly, Renly.."

"Threaten me, me, dare tell me what to do."

"No one tells me what to do, no one…"

His words were spoken in anger and in worry for his brother and the chair then crashed against the wall, the table soon following, the mugs and glasses all ending up smashed against the floor. Even the bed itself was broken as he brought his hammer down upon it. No one entered and no one dared to try and stop him as he thrashed the room. He held the jug in his hand and drank it down, feeling the wine as it rolled down from his mouth and over his chest. His breathing soon calming as did his temper as he finally wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Renly had been taken by the dragon and was being held his prisoner. The damn fool had gotten himself kidnapped and taken hostage, his guards dead, and his own life now at risk. Stannis had wished for him to do as the dragon suggested. His brother had been telling him to do that even before the Old Lion had made his own suggestion. All of these people telling him what to do as if they had the right to do so. Were it not for knowing how Stannis felt about Renly, he'd have perhaps questioned his brother's motives or courage. As it was he at least knew that Stannis was true to their house above all.

Stay in Storm's End and leave the Riverlands to its fate. That was what the dragon had demanded of him for his brother's safety. Don't march and don't take part in the war to come and he'd get Renly back, do either and he'd get him back piece by piece. Were he a different man then maybe it would have worked, was he a lesser man then maybe he'd have given in to the threat to his brother's life. If it had been a different enemy other than the dragon then perhaps he'd have left it to Stannis to bring Renly home safe. Had there not been a war just waiting to happen, then perhaps it would be at Storm's End and not the Stoney Sept that he'd spent the night rutting between some young girl's legs.

None of those things were true though, he was not a lesser man and it was not an enemy other than the dragon. Robert dressed and picked up his coin purse and his hammer and moved to the door. Outside Ser Barristan stood and with a nod to the knight, he made his way to the door. He threw the coin purse on the table in front of the owner and with a last fond look to the girl who'd brought him so much pleasure the night before, he left the brothel vowing to return.

"How long until Harrenhal?" he asked Ser Barristan as they walked through the town.

"A week, two at most, your grace." Barristan said simply and directly as was his style.

"Good. War, Ser Barristan, just the thoughts of it makes the blood flow does it not?" he asked to no answer from the man, or none he heard anyway as his thoughts then turned to the dragon and the fight to come.

The Neck 300 AC..

Benjen Stark.

He'd cried when the first news had come of his sister's death. Benjen had spent days in the Godswood at Sea Dragon Point praying to the Old Gods to make those words lies and not the truth that he knew them to be. Though he'd known about her son or had heard tales at least from Ser Wylis and some of the sailors who traded with them in Sea Dragon Point, he'd not thought to meet him. After all, what could he say to a boy he'd never met about a woman he'd not seen for the entirety of that boy's life. Had he known that Aemon had arrived at Dragonstone, then he'd still not have sought him out. Then the boy had come to them and Benjen had spent as much time studying him as he could.

The boy was her son, that much had been clear from the first moment he'd seen him. He had her eyes, eyes that Benjen had not seen in more than twenty years, and eyes that looked at the world the very same way that hers once had. When he smiled it was as if someone had taken an arrow and shot it straight into his heart. His sister's smile had been like no others and to see it again on someone else's face was both a blessing and a curse.

Benjen had wished to go to her, to speak to her all those years ago and had come close to refusing his father when he denied him leave to do so. He was still a boy then and so he resolved that once he became a man then he'd not need to follow his father's commands and he'd be free to travel to Essos and see Lya once again. Life bows to the will of gods and not men and Benjen Stark was no god. A chance meeting, a betrothal, wedding, and gifting of a keep. Three incredible children and a wife he loved with all his heart and over time Essos and Lya seemed less and less important.

Family, his own family had taken precedence over his sister and he was now feeling that once again it was his own family that was now taking precedence over her son. He'd argued with Brandon over his attitude towards Aemon, of how he had been welcomed both by his brother and by his father when he'd reached out. Ned stepping in between them both before it had come to blows. Benjen felt they'd brought this on themselves and the arguments like the one he was now engaged in had continued as they readied to march.

"Father should have spoken to us all before making that choice, he should have allowed her son to come to Winterfell." Benjen said louldy as they stood in Ned's solar.

"That boy wishes to take the North for himself, father was right and when I see him again…" Brandon said angrily as Benjen grabbed his brother's shirt.

"You'll what, become a kinslayer? By the Old Gods you're just as much a fool as he was." he shouted.

"Ben…" Ned said pushing him away from their brother.

"You think I should kneel? I should just hand him the North?" Brandon said his face turning red as he tried to bite his tongue.

"Of course I fucking don't. I'm of the North too. I'm saying you acted a fool just like father did. Had he allowed Aemon to come then who knows where we'd be now, but for his own stubborn pride he refused to forgive her son for something that she was in the right to do…"

"Ben." Ned interrupted his brother's voice calm even his expression was not.

"No Ned, we all know the right of it. Father was forcing her into a marriage she didn't want, but more than that he was forcing her away from the North. Gods, all of us were allowed to stay in our home and she loved the North far more than any of us." he said with a sigh "We should have welcomed her son, then and now."

"Now, given what he wants you would have had me welcome him? Did you not read the letter, were they not his own words?" Brandon said loudly.

"Aye, but why did he write those words, Brandon? For they were not the first words he wrote were they? He wrote them because father treated him the same as you did. Ned here is the only one who treated him like kin, Ned, Cat, and their children welcomed him like a nephew and cousin, while you welcomed him like an enemy." Benjen said frustrated.

"He is our enemy." Brandon said.

"Aye, you and father have seen to that. Speak to Wylis and Wendel, talk to Wyman, speak to them, and then think on the man you've made an enemy of. He is our kin and now rather than fight with us or for us, we'll soon be forced to face him. We can't fight kin, Brandon. We have so many enemies now, and yet rather than think and act only when you've thought it through, you've made one more. The most dangerous one of all." Benjen said before storming from the room.

Perhaps he was being unfair on his brother and the fault really lay firmly at their father's feet. They should have been allied with the Empire, the North should have benefited even more than it already had because of Lya. While not the smartest man, Benjen knew enough to know it was his sister's will and memory that had seen the North given so much trade and not Wyman's negotiating skills, good though they were. They should have reached out and perhaps he'd have met his nephew in better circumstances and had they done so then perhaps he'd not be fearing what was to happen when they met again.

They marched the next day, Ned said his goodbyes to Cat and their children and he could see that his brother didn't relish the idea of missing the birth of the child that his goodsister carried. Benjen could empathize with the sad look on his brother's face as he kissed his wife goodbye, the memories of kissing his own wife the same way not so long ago were still fresh in his mind.

"Cheer up for fuck's sake, or you'll force me to ride with an Umber." he heard the loud voice of his goodmother call out.

"Good to see you too, Maege." he said to a laugh from Jory who rode beside her mother.

"All is well?" Maege asked as she looked to where Brandon rode at the front of the line beside Ned.

"All is well." he said with a smile as they too began to ride away from the Moat.

They had not been riding long when he was called to the front of the line, Brandon, Ned, The Greatjon, Ser Wylis, and Rickard Karstark all locked in deep conversation when he, Maege, and Galbart Glover arrived. No sooner was he standing beside them than Howland Reed arrived and rarely had he see the man wear such a worried look on his face as he did right then.

"Your grace?" Benjen said to Brandon as his brother looked from Ned to Howland.

"Howland, tell them what you've just told Ned and me." Brandon said with a nod to the Lord of the Neck.

"My men were scouting near Harrenhal when they spotted a large force of men marching towards the Neck." Howland said as the voices began to rise only for Brandon to raise his hand and they then stopped "It seemed that Hoare wished to trap us here while he marched on the Riverlords. My men followed and they saw it, gods, I had to see it myself to know it for true." Howland said wiping his brow.

"Saw what?" Maege asked.

"The dragon saw the men march and it brought them Fire and Blood." Howland said and though the Greatjon, Rickard Karstark, and even Brandon himself laughed, he, Maege, Galbart, Wylis, and Ned did not.

"Hah, the dragon's done us a favor though he knows it not." Rickard Karstark said laughing still.

"How many of the squids were burned, Howland?" the Greatjon asked with a chuckle.

"All of them, or close enough to make no never mind." Howland said and that at least stopped the laughter.

"All? How many is all?" Ned asked worriedly.

"My men said there were close to 5,000 who marched, my prince. 5,000 men and horse and other than a few who'll not make it through the night and some who'll never fight again, all were ended by the dragon." Howland said, and Benjen noticed just how much and quickly the mood had turned.

"He must have been there for an age to end 5,000 men. Your own weren't harmed at all?" Maege asked.

"My men were hidden and hidden well and according to them it took him no more than four or five passes to see them dead." Howland said.

"That's impossible, that can't…" Rickard Karstark said as Wylis interrupted him.

"We've heard similar tales from Essos, Rickard, there is a reason why the dragons and the Dragonknight, in particular, are feared." Wylis said.

"It matter's not and we'll see the truth of it ourselves soon enough. Howland how far to these bodies?" Brandon asked.

"A few more miles, your grace." Howland said and with that, all talk of fires and burning were ended for now at least.

They would not be ended for long and soon enough they came upon the evidence that proved Howland's words to be true. Around him, there were more bodies than he'd ever seen in his life. Men, horses, armored or not it had made no difference. Those lucky enough to be wearing leather had simply burned to ash, any wearing steel had found it melted onto them and had been cooked inside as if they were in a pot.

The ground was scorched as far as the eye could see and men who'd tried to run had found they could not outrun a dragon's flames. Though these men were Reavers, Iron Born who'd meant to ambush them and force them back into the North, Benjen felt some sympathy for them. No man deserved to die this way, quick though it may have been. Why his nephew had attacked them he knew not and that wasn't even the thought that most occupied his mind. Instead, it was a far more simple one and one he had no answer to. They had made an enemy out of Aemon Targaryen and he'd just seen what happened to those who crossed the dragon's path. Was there still room to bridge the divide between them and was a crown worth a dragon's wroth?.

The Eyrie 300 AC.

Jon Arryn.

He looked over the scrolls and tried to find the meaning in what was happening. Rickard Stark dead, killed by the Iron Born while traveling back to the North from Riverrun made no sense to him. Jon wouldn't put anything past the Reavers and the Vale had its own trouble with them over the years. Though the Bloody Gate had kept them from ever setting foot in the Vale for true and they still kept most of their attacks at sea to the western coast.

Why had they done it now though? What was the spark that led to the flame of war? For war is what they had brought upon themselves with this action. As the other scroll all but confirmed giving that it carried the news that the North had called its banners and was now marching south. Was that all that was going on he'd be able to just sit back and watch the Reavers finally get what they'd had coming to them for years. Strong though they may be at sea, the Northmen were even more savage than they and on land, they'd be more than a match. It was the other kingdoms and what they seemed to be doing though which brought about most of his worries and concerns. They and the one thing that he feared most of all, the dragon.

Tywin Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Brandon Stark, and Harren Hoare, four kings all marching to the Riverlands, and Aemon Targaryen was heading there too. All because after eight and ten years the marriage that Rickard Stark had negotiated in order to build up an alliance to remove the Iron Born from the Riverlands was suddenly about to be realized, it made no sense. All of this made no damn sense and that was without even looking at what was happening in the Reach and the death of yet another king. There was more at play here, far more and all of it led back to the dragon, it had to, didn't it?.

"Jarrod, Jarrod." he called out before he began to cough and splutter, Jon reaching for and swallowing a large gulp from his mug of water.

"Your grace?" Jarrod said as he stepped into his solar.

"Elbert, tell Elbert I wish to see him." he said as he took a deep breath and felt his chest loosen.

"I...Your…"

"Out with it man." he said irritably.

"Prince Elbert has asked not to be disturbed your grace, he and…."

"Where is he?" he said angrily before rising to his feet.

"In the servant's rooms, your grace." Jarrod said and Jon felt his temper rise even more as he stormed from the room.

The two guards walked behind him and were barely able to keep up. Old he may be, but other than for the damnable cough which he couldn't shake, Jon Arryn was still a spry and fit man. He heard the sounds long before he reached the room and he almost broke the door down, so hard did he hit it with his hand to open it. There rutting on top of a young girl was his heir, the man the Vale would look to when he was gone and Jon felt his temper rise again.

"You out." he shouted to the girl "You get dressed and follow me and don't dally any longer than needed Elbert, for I am already in a foul mood this day." he said as he turned to walk back to his solar.

Would that the gods had been good enough to gift him a son. That just one of the pregnancies had been fruitful and brought him a true heir. Would that he had another nephew so that he could at least have threatened Elbert with the consequences of incurring his displeasure. The gods though were cruel and had taken both Jeyne and Rowena from him along with any chance of an heir from his loins. Elbert was all he had and so he'd indulged him, coddled him, gifted him all that he could, and waved off his follies and foibles as the hubris of a child of summer. He was a child no more and winter was soon to come.

His nephew didn't keep him waiting long, his appearance at his door had been enough to show him that this was not a request. That he didn't look ashamed or even perturbed that he'd been caught sleeping with a servant, angered Jon and he was in no mood to hold that anger in. it was time for harsh truths to be told as the Vale was or would soon be facing it's greatest challenge. It was time for Elbert to show signs that he could be the king that he would need to be, or else the Vale and the House of Arryn would not survive the wars to come.

"Its stops now, all of it. The feasting, the drinking, the sleeping with women who are not your wife. All of it or so help me I'll uname you as my heir." he said looking at Elbert who almost seemed to be wearing a smirk "You think I lie, boy? War is at hand and I fear it's a war that will find its way to our door soon enough. I need you to be who you're supposed to be and if you cannot, then I need another to take your place." he said as Elbert at least seemed a little put out by that.

"You would name Denys over me?" Elbert said angrily.

"If it came to that, I would. Don't let it come to that, Elbert." he said his anger fading as he saw the worry on his nephew's face.

"I'll do better." Elbert said, his nephew now sounding much like a young boy who'd been lax in his studies.

He spent the next hour explaining the ins and outs of the realm to Elbert and was happy enough with what he heard. Elbert didn't speak rashly or suggest actions that were foolish. Later that night at their meal his nephew was far more attentive to his wife and drank far less than usual and Jon spent the night watching him approvingly. Over the next few days, it seemed even clearer to him that his nephew had turned over a new leaf, or was at least trying to. So while he worried about what was happening outside the Vale, he was far more comforted with what was happening inside. Or he was until Denys, Yohn, Anya and the others arrived.

Their arrival had surprised him and yet he thought it most fortuitous or at least he had at first. Jon welcoming Yohn, Anya, Horton, Benedar, Gilwood, Symond, and Denys to the Eyrie, and yet when they asked for bread and salt he perhaps should have realized that all was not well. Still, it was not until the meeting they held in his solar that the truth of their visit became apparent to him and he had to both rein in Elbert's anger and his own when Yohn Royce spoke the words aloud.

"We wish Denys to be named as heir and to be given command of the Vale's forces, your grace." Yohn said and Jon looked at him with fury in his eyes.

"You do, do you? And who are you to wish such a thing of me? Am I not king, is it not my will that decides my heir and not yours? Is it not by right of blood that Elbert comes before Denys or any other?" he said as he ground his teeth to stop himself from shouting his words out.

"The Vale won't support Elbert, your grace. He's not cut out to be king and certainly not to be so given what it is we will have to face. The dragon will come and your nephew is not the man to lead us against him." Anya said her tone soft, but her words and expression showed the lie in anyone who thought that the woman herself was anything but hard and fierce.

"I am a prince and should be addressed as such." Elbert said haughtily and Jon rolled his eyes.

"You are a knight, Elbert, no more and no less, you wear no crown and no one wishes to see you wear one." Denys said looking to Elbert before turning to face him "I have no wish to be here, no wish to wear a crown. If I could have what I wished for, your grace, then it would be that you were fifty years younger and it was you who'd lead us into battle and beyond. Wishes though are for children and boys of summer and none of here are either anymore." Denys said and Jon had to admit he was impressed as he always had been by his cousin's child.

"I am still king and I will lead us against any threat we may face. The rule of succession is clear and Elbert is and will remain my heir." Jon said firmly.

"Then you leave us with no choice, your grace. We shall follow your lead and your orders, but never his." Gilwood said as he rose to his feet.

"Treason, this is treason, all of you should lose your heads." Elbert said angrily and Jon saw it then, the reason why they'd sought guest rights and he cursed them all for their treachery.

"Go all of you get out of my sight. Never did I imagine I'd live to see the day when Lords and Knights of the Vale acted in such a way. Shame on you, Shame on all of you." Jon said as they left the room and the Eyrie itself.

He talked Elbert down from wanting to send men after them and from sending a raven to the Gates of the Moon to see them held and detained so that they could face punishment for their treason. The truth of things was he now had a huge problem and it was one that had very few solutions. As he took to his bed that night he found himself pondering on one of them and though he hated to be forced into doing their will, he perhaps had no other choice and it may even turn out to be for the best.

The Riverlands 300 AC.

Brandon Stark.

Other than when alone with his brothers, Brandon would never admit just how shaken he was by what they'd seen in the Neck. The thoughts that all it had taken was a few passes of the dragon to do so much damage preyed on his mind all the way to the Twins. Numbers, how good you fought, the quality of your leaders and your fighting men, none of that mattered against something that could leave behind so much carnage and he'd gone and made an enemy of the man that wielded such power.

He laughed, japed, and to all those around him, he was the same Brandon Stark he had always been. The only difference any of them saw was the crown that he wore on his head and it was only since they'd left the Neck that he realized just how heavy it truly was. Now as he looked at the two twin keeps and the bridge they needed to cross, that crown he hoped would be put to good use. With a nod to Ned and Benjen, he, The Greatjon, Rodrik Cassel, and Big Bucket Wull along with ten guards rode to meet the party that rode their way.

"Your grace." the thin man who led the group said to him with a polite bow of his head when both groups were a few feet from each other.

"Lord Stevron, we seek a meeting with your father." he said with a smile to show he had friendly intent.

"For what purpose, your grace?" Stevron asked looking not at him but at the army at his back.

"To cross your bridge, my lord, nothing more or less than that." he said smiling still.

"Very well, if you'll ride with me, my father rarely leaves his hall due to his age, your grace." Stevron said and Brandon nodded.

When they arrived at the keep nearest to them he saw the girl standing waiting with the plate of bread and salt. Once they'd dismounted they took a piece of each to the great relief of Lord Stevron and they were then brought into the keep itself. It was dark, damp, and looked badly maintained and when they were led to the Great Hall this seemed even more so. Brandon didn't have to look to those with them to see the looks of disgust on their faces, but he did need to school his own and so he did so as he waited for Lord Walder Frey to grace them with his presence.

The old weasel was all that he'd heard his father name his as and though he acted infirm, he was clearly not in one regard at least. Brandon feeling a great deal of sympathy for the young girl that was being fondled as she stood in front of the old lecher. He hated being in the man's presence and it had only been mere moments that he had been, and he found himself fearing how long the man would drag this meeting out. It turned out not to be too long as they were given passage almost far too easily and had it not for the body of Martin Cassel being delivered to Moat Cailin by a Frey, then Brandon would have already turned and left the room. As it was he could not and it was clear that the old fucker knew it too, the smirk he wore on his face more than enough to show him that.

"Perhaps you and I need to speak more privately, your grace? Wouldn't want certain things to be overheard by the wrong person." Walder said as he stared at him.

"Aye, we'd not. Is there someone we can speak alone?" he asked and Walder looked to one of his sons, grandsons, nephews, bastards, or whatever it was that half the people in this room were to him, the man he picked then moving to him and bidding him follow.

"Your grace." the Greatjon said worriedly and Brandon shook his head before he then turned to follow the far younger weasel down a corridor and into a large room.

Whatever about the rest of the keep and its poor state, this room was made for a much finer keep than this. There were Myrish rugs on the floor, a great tapestry on the wall, and the desk and chairs were made from the finest oak. Even the wine jug was made of a fine glass and the glasses themselves wouldn't be out of place in Highgarden or Casterly Rock he imagined. The old weasel spent his coin on himself it would seem and he wondered what conditions the rest of his brood were forced to settle for.

"Forgive me, your grace, I don't move as fast as I used to." Walder said as he made a mummery of barely being able to walk and almost collapsed into his chair.

"The curse of age, my lord." he said with a soft laugh which Walder seemed to appreciate.

"That's the truth of it. Some wine, it's the good stuff, straight from the Arbor. Not the piss I make those ungrateful fuckers drink." Walder said and though he hated the taste of wine, he accepted it graciously.

"It's good." he said after taking a small sip of it which again made Walder laugh.

"It had better be considering the fucking cost of it. You're wondering why I'm being so helpful aren't you, thinking that old Walder has a hidden agenda perhaps?" Walder said his eyes focussed intently on his own.

"It had crossed my mind, I'll admit." he said with a small nod.

"You'd be a fool if it hadn't and this world has more than enough fools in it as it is, half the fuckers sit no more than a few feet away from us." Walder said with a loud rasping laugh "I could deny you of course, though your men would take my keeps from me eventually and I'm not fool enough to do so. I could charge you enough to make it seem that gold is all I care for. I could seek and demand betrothals and other considerations and perhaps even get some such is your haste to get to Riverrun." Walder said as Brandon moved a little forward in his chair "Relax, your grace, it's not spies in your ranks, it's knowing my lands and what is going on in them."

"What is it that you know?" he asked curiously.

"That the Hoares have marched to take down the Blackfish, that they sent men to stop your own march, and yet here you are. That war is upon us and it's far better to be on the winning side than the losing." Walder said and Brandon looked more closely at the man to see he was telling no lie that he could discern.

"You think I'll win?" he asked staring at the old weasel even more closely.

"I think you've already defeated a large force of Hoare men and that shows the truth of things. Reavers belong on the sea and not the land. I'd wager on the North and the allies it has amongst my fellow Riverlords more than I would the Reavers in what's to come, besides theirs no profit in it for me if they win." Walder said with a chuckle.

"Profit?" he asked.

"Aye, I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, give the family a bad name something like that would." Walder said laughing more fully now.

"What do you want?" he asked and Walder told him, there were betrothals but requests, not demands and he wished for a larger say in the Riverlands once they'd seen it free from the Hoares. Mainly though it was the respect that he wished for, to not be looked down on and to be spoken of as truly as others were and Brandon had no problem agreeing to all that he requested "Martin Cassel?" he asked once they were done with their agreement.

"Well, that's more difficult. I can give you the name of the man who led the attack and who I believe cut down Cassel, but I don't know if he was the one who killed your father and I need some assurances before I name him and tell you how to get to him." Walder said and Brandon felt his heart begin to race.

"How do you know that he killed Martin?" he asked eagerly.

"Your man, he was the best blade you have. My son saw him fight once and it wasn't arrows or crossbow bolts that took him down. It was a man with a sword and there's only one who it could have been." Walder said and Brandon nodded at him to continue "Euron Greyjoy, the Crow's Eye."

Brandon barely heard the rest of it, the Crow's Eye had killed Martin and led the attack on his father, that was all he needed to know and he'd put the man in the ground himself.

"You'll find him at a brothel in Wendish Town, he'll be there for less than a week and so you'll need to ride hard to catch him before he heads out to sea." Walder said almost worriedly.

"Why's he heading to sea, the fight is here?" Brandon asked and Walder shook his head.

"I can't be certain, though I'd expect it's to bring more men from the Iron Islands. All I can say for sure is that the Silence is docked in a cove near Wendish Town and there is a girl that he always spends his time with when he passes through. War or not, the Crow's Eye will have his fun and work to his own schedule." Walder said as Brandon rose to his feet.

"I thank you for this and though I'm no fucking Lannister I too always pay my debts. I owe you Lord Frey, and I will pay you back." Brandon said and Walder nodded.

"One last thing, your grace." Walder said giving him a small piece of paper.

"Lord Frey?" Brandon asked confused.

"Where we found Martin Cassel, I think you may find the remains of your father and the other men who rode with him there." Walder said his voice low as if he felt some sadness about what he was saying.

"Again I'm in your debt, Lord Frey." Brandon said as he moved to the door.

Later when he spoke of the meeting both Ned and Benjen argued with him and told him to leave it for now, but he refused to listen. Instead, he gathered a group of men he knew he could trust and told Ned to keep marching towards Riverrun and he'd join up with them later. He, William Dustin, The Greatjon, Ethan Glover, Theo Wull, Mark Ryswell, and Howland Reed along with thirty guards all rode across the bridge first. Their horses then being let loose as they rode hard towards Seagard and Wendish town.

They were five miles from Seagard when they reached the copse and looking to the map that Walder Frey had given him it took them no more than an hour or two to find the disturbed ground where Martin had been buried. Less than an hour later they found the larger patch of ground and Brandon dug it up himself. First with his sword and then with a shovel and finally with his bare hands. When he saw the bodies he almost wept, as even without their heads he could tell who some of these men were and they deserved better than this.

"Help me, help me with them." he shouted as the Greatjon and the others began to move the bodies until finally, he saw his father's.

"Your grace, your grace." William Dustin said softly as Brandon cradled the body in his arms.

"I..they deserved more than this. He deserves more than this." Brandon said tears falling from his eyes.

"He does and we'll see that he's given a true burial, your grace." Howland said.

"Jon, I need you to guard him, to guard them. Howland take two men and ride to Seagard, purchase a cart or speak to the Mallisters and explain what we've found. The rest of you with me." Brandon said before laying his father's headless body back down on the ground.

"You should wait, your grace, lets see to the bodies first and then we ride together." The Greatjon said worriedly.

"I can't risk him not being there, Jon, and there is no one I trust more to see to my father than you. I can't wait, I won't." Brandon said before moving to his horse and within moments he was riding south to Wendish town.

He'd make the Crow's Eye suffer for what he did, he'd kill the man slowly and cut him apart piece by fucking piece.

The conquest of Westeros XXIV.

The Marsh Kings.

The Neck before it was part of the North for true had been a kingdom of its own and had named the Marsh Kings as its rulers. For many years they and their descendants held back all of those who wished to make it theirs. The Red Kings and the Kings of Winter had all tried and failed and some whispered that the Neck was a place of fell magic and dark practices. Tales of Skinchangers and Shapeshifters, Wargs, and bloody sacrifices to the Heart Tree all were spoken of in the North and beyond.

It was only when the Laughing Wolf Rickard Stark gathered an army and defeated the Marsh King that the truth of those tales was soon known. It hadn't been magic or sacrifices and though the talk of wargs still remained, in the end, it had been simply the land itself that had held its enemies at bay. Rickard Stark had seen and realized the truth of this long before he ever marched. How had he done so? you may very well ask, and there are many schools of thought on the subject. Was he a warg himself, did he have a mind for war that others did not, or was it simply a story of love as such tales usually are?

What is known is that upon taking the Neck and defeating the Marsh King, Rickard Stark then married the Marsh King's daughter and so the answer was known, was it not? Tales of wargs remained just that and the Citadel dismissed them all as rumors and myths. Rumors and myths however can also be true and there have always been those who believed in such things.

One of whom was the Empress of the Ice who was oft heard to say that while her own third eye had never opened, one day her son's would, and on that day the world would tremble. For it was Aemon and not Bloodraven who was truly meant to have a thousand eyes and one.

The Vale 300 AC.

Aemon.

He watched her sleep and just looking at the rise and fall of her chest relaxed him. Knowing that he could reach out and touch her brought him more comfort than anything in the world, other than actually touching her that was. Seeing the small little smile on her face as she dreamed of something or other brought a much larger one to his own. All he had ever wished or desired in the world was for her to be his, just as he had always been hers.

Respect from his father, adoration from the court, the love of the people, and an acknowledgment of his worth not as the Dragonknight, but as Aemon Targaryen, a son, brother, nephew. None of that mattered next to having the love of his sister. None of that would have ever come close to filling the hole in his heart that not being with her would have and almost had placed there. He laughed when she spoke his name out, evidently, he was in her dreams too which pleased him greatly as she had always been a dream to him.

"Sleep, my love." he said softly as he placed a kiss on her lips before moving from the bed to dress and ready for the day ahead.

He'd have liked to stay and wake with her, but he had things to do today and the first of them was to scout the lands ahead of them before they marched. Daario had spoken of the Mountain Clans and though Aemon had seen no evidence of them so far, the last thing he needed was to be attacked by an enemy that really shouldn't be his. Thoros and Torgho Nudho had both suggested he make an ally of these Mountain Clans and were he here simply to conquer the Vale then he'd perhaps have considered it. It wasn't simply a conquest he wished for though, he wanted their knights for his own. So to bring them to their knees with the help of an enemy they'd been fighting long before he came here would put paid to any chance of that.

"Let her know that I woke early, should I not have returned before she rises." he said to the two Unsullied guards, Black Ant and Red Flea.

"We will, my prince." Red Flea said and Aemon patted him on the shoulder before moving to the fire to grab some food to break his fast.

Arthur was up as he always was as was Torgho Nudho, both men speaking animatedly to each other as he approached. That they were speaking of battles to come and those long since past was no great surprise and as Aemon grabbed a bowl of porridge he sat down and let them continue their conversation while he ate.

"You still don't sleep late, my prince?" Arthur asked once he'd seen that he had finished eating.

"Old habits, Arthur. More so when we march though Gaelithox enjoys the early morning flights as much as I do and so it's become almost routine." he said looking to Torgho Nudho who moved to gather his spear, shield, and short sword.

"Rhaenys too seemed to have developed that habit after you were exiled." Arthur said and Aemon looked at him curiously.

"I'm happy that she seems to be losing it." he said with a smile as he looked back n the direction of his tent "Should she demand to fly after me, you'll join her?" he asked and Arthur nodded "I take comfort in having you here, Arthur, in knowing that she has you here."

"As do I in being here, my prince." Arthur said as Aemon moved to walk over to where Gaelithox was already waiting for him.

They flew for no more than an hour, covering all the ground they would march today and it was only when he flew even further that he saw them. Turning back he urged Gaelithox to fly faster still and they reached the camp in less than half the time it had taken them to fly to where he'd seen the men ride.

"Go find Daario." he said to Torgho Nudho as he moved to his tent to wake Rhaenys.

When he saw the guards weren't there he hurried to the fire and was relieved to see her sitting and eating with Arthur, Thoros, and Aurane.

"Aems?" she asked looking at him and he realized that he must look to her how he did to his men and not how he always looked when he saw her.

"We have a chance for something, an opportunity has presented itself I'll need you to fly with me, Rhae, you and Meraxes, you too Arthur. You can stay in the sky when I land but I need you with me for this." he said and Rhaenys nodded as she put down her plate and moved to him.

"Is it dangerous, what you're doing is it dangerous?" she asked worriedly.

"No more than always and far less than usual." he said hoping to calm her worries.

When Daario arrived, he told him what he wished for him to do, and with that, he, Rhaenys, Arthur, and Torgho Nudho were soon on Gaelithox's and Meraxes's backs and flying to the men he'd seen. Aurane he knew would ready the camp to march and Daario would set off to did what he'd told him. They reached the men who'd ridden not much further from where he'd last seen them and he almost laughed at his good fortune when he saw the open ground. With a nod to Rhaenys and then a roar from Gaelithox, he had the Blood Wyrm drop low and let loose his flames on a patch of ground some distance from the riders. Aemon was sure that they were now torn between stopping and hoping for the best and riding hard praying they could outrun the red dragon, the former winning out for now.

"Follow my lead." he said to Torgho Nudho as he told Gaelithox to land and once he had then he and his sworn shield climbed from the dragon's back and moved to the men on horseback that waited a little distance away.

Aemon looked to the sky briefly just to see where Meraxes was and then moved even closer to the men and one woman that now watched each step he took with worried looks on their faces. He saw how they looked to his armor, to Dark Sister as it rested on his hip, and to Torgho Nudho and the spear and shield he carried in his hands. Yet it was Gaelithox and Meraxes that all of them looked to most and the fear and awe they had in their eyes would please the Blood Wyrm no doubt.

"My name is Aemon Targaryen, this is Torgho Nudho my sworn shield and he." he said pointing behind him to Gaelithox "Is the Blood Wyrm."

"What is the meaning of stopping us in such a way." The woman said trying to sound fierce but the look in her eyes each time that Gaelithox moved showed her fear to be what was truly winning out for now.

"I have a proposition for you, Ser Denys, one for all of you and one I'd like an answer on. Should I wish you dead you'd be dead, I think we can all agree on that" he asked to no reply "Well at least you don't disagree " he said with a chuckle.

"We have no quarrel with you, Prince Aemon." Ser Denys said.

"But I'm making one with you, Ser Denys, so those words aren't exactly true are they. The Vale will kneel, be it now, a day from now or maybe you'll manage to make it a whole week before you see the truth and weakness of your position. Should it be my wish, then with one nod to the Blood Wyrm or a call to Meraxes above your heads then each of your houses would be left leaderless and my taking of the Vale would be even easier than it already shall be.

I will not be giving that nod nor making that call. I offer you a parley, an offer you should take for while your answer won't cost you your lives today, the choice you make may very well cost you them tomorrow." Aemon said looking to the bronze armored man who could only be Yohn Royce and the man with the blue eyes and pointed beard who wore the seven stars sigil that marked him out as Ser Symond Templeton.

"And should we decide not to parley?" the woman, Anya Waynwood he was almost sure, asked.

"Then you'll go on your way and when next we meet it'll not be words, but Fire and Blood that I'll bring to you." he said and as they looked at each other he saw the nods, and then one by one they dismounted.

His words would not be enough, he knew that and so he hoped what he intended to show them would be. They'd think their Bloody Gate would protect them as it had in the past, but Aemon knew what they did not. The Bloody Gate was no more and the only thing that would protect them from him were the choices they made this day.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Sorry for the late update all my updates this week are pushed a day back. Up next, the Vale is made an offer it cannot refuse. Tywin hears worrying news. The North and the Iron Born find themselves face to face and Olenna sends word to Dragonstone with an offer of her own. We also take a look into Aemon's childhood and the time he spent with his mother. While in Dorne Oberyn is sent on a mission to see family.

Daryl Dixon: We'll see if he's able to.

Zyrus: I get you about Aemon speaking that way, it's the thing though, he wants it all and so he's got to speak of it all. The main reason he's speaking more on the North is because of who's there, we'll see some of that with Rhaenys too. The Greatjon is the kind of man that put him amongst ten men he'd probably do as much if not more damage as Arthur Dayne or Jaime Lannister, but have him face either of those men one on one and he'd be outmatched. We'll see more of Olenna's plots next chapter and what's happening Beyond the Wall soon enough.

Classicxd: I think that's the thing people don't seem to get, there is no way those negotiations go any other way, not initially at least, now things have and will change based on events, but just telling people to kneel is a hard pill for anyone to swallow.

Celexys: Thanks for saying that, I wanted to try and keep them true enough so they weren't just OC's with names we recognize but changed enough by the changes so they weren't just copied and pasted from canon. Ned is different for example because he never went to the Vale, but he's still Ned at heart too.

Dunk: It wasn't them all, Harren sent a force of 5,000 to hold the North behind the Neck, he's marching with a larger force to Riverrun. The entrance was a key thing, now Aemon had only planned for it to be the Bloody Gate, but he's not upset he got this either. With the North/Dorne we're talking about two of the proudest countries too, so no way they just kneel immediately. We'll see with Olenna, I think you're a good judge of her mindset though. It's a bit of both with Tywin, he knows there is truth in the words about Aemon, he'd not have sought to bring him to his side if he didn't, he just can't accept that anyone is stronger than him, so there is some delusion and some fronting for his men going on too.

Guest: Exactly, don't go where your enemy wishes you to go. Basically part of it is Tywin's strategy too, to arrive when all the enemies have fought and clean up, but Aemon also has a strategic need for the Vale and is gives him basically the east coast under his command, most of it at least. Rhaenys will take some time to get more experienced in battle, but she'll be there for all of it. I think we discussed this before, about the differences between a fighting queen and a ruling one. Marge can't wield a sword, Sansa either, Dany and Rhaenys here though not sword wielders do wield dragons lol.

Leonell: Like any embedded reporter, Marwyn is writing for the side he is embedded with. Now he also has a personal liking for Aemon and for the Targs and though it may not look like it, the book isn't being written, it's already written, so these passages are almost forwards into events that have happened already. Marwyn was always more magic focussed, he's the one in the canon who makes that great quote decrying the Citadel and its Maesters for not believing in magic. So he's certainly going to be more a Targ loyalist and an Aemon on than an anti-Targ or a more balanced objective writer. The Citadel hate magic, but they've not really had to deal with the Targs as of yet, nor have the Faith truly even though they are making inroads into Essos. So we may see some of those conflicts come to pass.

Supremus: I disagree, the biggest issue with the North is that it can be easily cut off from the world which means famine and starvation and its cold requires the need for keeps. Keeps burn which Torrhen knew when he saw Harrenhal, that's mainly why he knelt. Now funnily enough in TDC, I've explored the prophecy magical reasoning for him kneeling. But Logically he looked, he saw and he knew. Not only could he not beat Aegon in the field, but in his keeps, they weren't safe either.

As for the Targs not winning the war, which war, because the war in the south was basically done. The war in Dorne was won too if Aegon had followed through, GRRM himself says Meraxes was a lucky shot and it's the one and only example of a dragon being taken down in such a way other than the ridiculousness we got in the show. Dorne was conquered without dragons, they broke parley to win and Aegon would have eventually broken them too. As for Brandon snow, he claimed he could kill them, which is the same as Tywin saying here he'll see the dragons dead it means nothing when the facts don't' match with that claim. Other than other dragons or when they were chained and unable to fly, how many times were dragons brought down? But Brandon Snow could do so, really. I get you may have a thing for the North, the Starks, or even be anti-Targ, but Aegon changed the game completely, Brandon's plan should have been to kill Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya, that makes far more sense than he was going to take down the Black Dread with a weapon only he knew about.

Otuski: Completely agree.

Parasiticsquid: Nope not going to happen, as you've read in my notes it's too hard to incorporate it IMO, even were it not it would go against Aemon's whole reasoning. He accepted exile because he was refused the woman he loves, if he then added another it kind of diminishes that. So nope, this will be Aemon/Rhaenys only.

For me, the biggest issue with multi pairings is that they make no sense, politically, emotionally, or practically. Literally the only one other than of course the OG Aegon/Rhaenys/Visenya one that would make some sort of sense would be Jon Snow/Dany/someone else and only if you went with the idea that Dany couldn't have children. Hell, most people take issue with the idea of Targs with dragons marrying non Targs because it may dilute the magic needed to control dragons, yet people are fine with multiple pairings.

Even in the OG pairing the issues of the children of Visenya and Rhaenys pretty much caused incredible problems for the fledgling Seven Kingdoms. Later on, we see with the dance what even a husband marrying another wife after his first one has died can lead to. So for those reasons I keep well away.

Sansa saw a handsome prince and well, the rest follows as night follows day lol.