Brothers Reunited At Last

31st day of the 2nd moon, 297 AC.

The Great Hall.

Following the end of the Great Tournament, it was the Dragon Emperor's seventeenth nameday; a grand occasion. Yet it was not the only grand occasion that day as he decided to finally have himself crowned as the Dragon Emperor of New Valyria. It was quite the title which included sovereignty over Westeros, all Nine Great Cities of Essos along with a strong claim to the rest of the Valyrian Freehold's lands. Every single lord and magister of significance had been invited to witness this momentous event.

No one was absent.

The High Septon stood at the foot of the Iron Throne, holding the Crown of Necromancy in his hands with the Kingsguard behind him. After the death of the previous... less trustworthy High Septon, this new High Septon had consistently preached the word of Aerion's divinity and 'truth' of him being blessed by the Seven. As a result, in the minds of simpler men, Aerion had slowly gained the image of the 'messiah' / 'incarnation of the Seven'. This was in the stead of being denounced as a devil child... quite the improvement, to say the least.

The Great Hall's entrance was slowly pushed open, from which a beautiful man strode forward in a regal manner. There was not a single stutter or pause in his footing... no, each was as perfect as the last. He only stopped when the High Septon was within arm's length, who simply kneeled and presented the Crown to him.

In most circumstances, it would be the King who would kneel and allow himself to be crowned - yet Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen was simply different. It would simply be an insult for him to be crowned by a lesser man and so, he grabbed the Crown of Necromancy for himself and placed it onto his head.

Then he turned to the crowd, his brilliant crimson cape making a dramatic 'swoosh' noise.

"Almost fourteen years ago, I recall being reminded that I was the Rightful King by none other than Ser Jaime. At that time King's Landing was lost, my two siblings were slain, a new King had been named and we were on the run... it all seemed hopeless. Most of the Realm had turned its back on House Targaryen..."

"Most... except for the kingdom of Dorne." Aerion smiled as he looked at Doran, Oberyn, Arianne, his mother and many other Dornish faces he knew. "I would not be here if I was not shielded by its unyielding warriors, devastating desserts and ever so loyal lords. Yet, none of that would've even been a possibility without a single man's bravery."

"He is my greatest sword and shield, the man who saved my life more times than I could count. He is a man who risked everything for the greater good... his honour, his reputation and even his life. Without his sword cutting a path for a brighter future, the Mad King Aerys would've turned this city to rubble through wildfire."

"People call him Kingslayer and Oathbreaker when it was his sword that stopped the Mad King's orders of burning the city to the ground being carried out. As such, he should never again be mentioned in such a light - rather, he should be appreciated for saving so many lives. This man is, of course, none other than the Lord Commander of my Kingsguard... Ser Jaime Lannister!" Aerion drew Ambition and turned to Jaime Lannister. "Ser Jaime, kneel before me."

He nodded, not hesitating even for a moment. After he kneeled, Aerion placed his sword against Ser Jaime's left shoulder.

"After all of your hardships, loyalty and virtue... I only see it fitting to grant you the highest honour a Kingsguard and knight will ever receive. Ser Jaime Lannister, from henceforth, you will be known as the Knight of the Realm and the Sword of the Emperor. This title is the martial equivalent of the Dragon Emperor's Hand, granting you power over every subject beneath me."

"My Emperor... I'm-"

"You are worthy, Ser Jaime of House Lannister. With this title, you have the freedom to act independently in my name unless I order you otherwise. You are also free to hold lands of your own, marry and sire heirs as if you were still a Lord."

"Now rise anew, Ser Jaime of House Lannister, the Knight of the Realm and Emperor's Sword!"

Ser Jaime gave in, smiling as he rose to face the crowd which turned into a roar of cheers. Aerion sheathed Ambition and walked up the stairs of the Iron Throne, eventually seating himself on its not-so-comfortable seat.

The High Septon stepped forward and joined the crowd while the Kingsguard formed a wedge at the foot of the Iron Throne.

"Let it be known that, from henceforth, I am officially your Dragon Emperor and... for those who do dislike and even hate me, well I can only pity and feel sorry for them. Because I, Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen, will be reigning for a bloody long time!"

Aerion smiled rather cheerfully.

"Now, that I've said everything I wanted to say, feel free to present all your gifts in an orderly fashion!"

~

The number of presents that Aerion Targaryen had received was simply ridiculous, especially when one considered the value of said presents. Most of the lords and magisters present had not been stingy with their gold or treasures, aiming to curry any sort of favour with the Dragon Emperor.

Aerion Targaryen was courteous when accepting these gifts, naturally. The smaller gifts ranged from weapons, clothing, jewellery, wine, decorations, books... anything one could think of.

When the magisters of Lys stepped forward, they were the first to offer a person as a gift. While practising slavery was seen as completely unacceptable by the Seven Kingdoms before Aerion's reign, such practises were all too common in most of Essos. This... made quite the divide.

"I, the First Magister of Lys, gift seven worthy and beautiful women of Valyrian blood to the Radiant Dragon Emperor."

When they brought the 'package' from outside of the Red Keep and into the Great Hall, many were astounded by each of the slave's beauty. Each had silver-gold hair and a mixture between purple, lilac and pale blue eyes. Still, it was an exaggeration to call all seven beautiful.

There were some discussions that grew ever so loud until Aerion raised his arm.

"They were all educated to serve your every last need, my Dragon Emperor." The First Magister of Lys stated. "None of these women are of a low status nor have they ever slept with any man. In truth, the one in front is my most beautiful daughter."

"First Magister, you offer these women to me like cattle. Are you aware of my prestigious position at all?"

"It is precisely because of your heavenly power that I gift them to you in such a way." The First Magister replied. "You, a God amongst men, are far too great to have a single woman or man be your equal. Rest assured, my Dragon Emperor, none of these women are slaves and they have come of their free will as a gift of goodwill from Lys. I am simply presenting then to you."

"Hmph... if you speak the truth, I will take the front three as servants. My uncle Prince Viserys may have the other four."

"Can't say that I'd complain," Viserys remarked.

The First Magister smiled at the result of his gifts being accepted.

The next noteworthy gift was from the Sealord of Braavos.

"Since I heard that your majestic vessel that reigned the seas, The Mad King, had sunk in Valyria, I've spared no effort in the construction of an even greater ship." The Sealord bent his knee. "Built in the Arsenal, this ship has no equal in the Known World in regards to versatility. It is fast as the wind, large enough to hold a small army, prepped with devastating cannons and its hulls are strong enough to survive any storm. She is the only ship fitting of the Dragon of the Seas, in my humble opinion."

"And where might I find this brilliant ship?"

"In Braavos, my Emperor. She awaits you patiently."

"Sounds like I'll be paying a visit soon." Aerion smiled, imagining the ship that had been described. While dragons were the fastest way of transport, he did quite miss sailing the unpredictable seas.

...

Once the most important of men had presented their gifts, Aerion had the rest be piled up in a stash and started another feast. It was then that Jocelyn Baratheon approached him with a gift of her own, a black box with crimson markings and the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen at the very centre.

"This... is for you. To celebrate your seventeenth nameday and coronation."

Aerion glanced at the box with an intrigued expression and stood up to receive it. After unsealing the box, a great chain shined through. The chain itself was made out of white gold and at its very end was a majestic crimson three-headed dragon with... black stag horns on each of its heads. The dragon had been entirely made out of rubies except for its horns, although the material seemed quite expensive for that as well.

"So to counter the dragon wings I gave your stag... you gave mine stag horns." Aerion chuckled, taking the chain into his left hand.

"Would you... wear it?"

Seeing Jocelyn's pleading expression, Aerion shrugged and agreed to it. "Sure, I don't usually wear any jewellery so this pendant will be a nice change of pace."

"I want to be the one put it on you, then."

"... You're too short." Aerion remarked, laughing a little.

"Hmph, sit back down and I won't be."

"... Very well, my lady." Aerion's tone was sarcastic as he seated himself and returned the chain to Jocelyn. Afterwards, she came up from behind him and freed the chain's end, placing it around Aerion's neck. Then she sealed the chain and it fell perfectly into place.

"Feels pretty good on the skin..." Aerion commentated, dropping it beneath his shirt. "I wonder, where'd you get the money to get me something so expensive?"

"... I asked my mother. When I told her the reason why, she just smiled and supported me to go through with it."

"If one thing is true, Lyanna cares for her children very deeply and wishes the best for each of them." Aerion rarely sang Lyanna Baratheon's praises yet there were times he reluctantly did. After all, Lyanna Baratheon the mother was far different from Lyanna Stark the escapist and he was willing to admit that.

"She is rather cunning, too." Aerion realised, taking out the chain and glancing at the black antlers. "So are you... well, as much as you can be at your age."

"Hmph..." Jocelyn Baratheon pouted at Aerion's slightly mocking chuckle.

"I don't know why... but you remind me of Rhaenys. She was my dear twin sister whom I adored with all of my little heart at that time." Aerion smiled, recalling all of his memories of random games they'd play.

"So you adore me too, hmm?"

"Yes... I do." Aerion smiled and stretched out her rosy cheeks.

"Oww..."

"Now, have you finished your work?"

"Uhm..." Jocelyn Baratheon glanced away from Aerion's violet eyes in a guilty fashion.

"These feasts are no excuse to start slacking." Aerion frowned.

"I'll finish it right now!"

"... Hahaha." Aerion laughed as he watched Jocelyn sprint off.

...

"Your Grace, I wanted to personally gift this crown to you. It doesn't have the presence of your black crown but I'm sure you'd agree that there is a different kind of beauty to it." Margaery Tyrell approached him with a majestic golden crown circlet, decorated with seven different coloured jewels to represent each kingdom.

"Oh... I quite like it." Aerion received the gift, taking off his Crown of Necromancy and handing it over to Ser Jaime, replacing it with Margaery's gifted crown. "I'll wear it for today."

"Thank you, Your Grace. Jewels suit your radiant beauty well." The flushed Margaery Tyrell turned around, not wishing to attract Arianne's gaze.

"She wants to be Queen..." Arianne Martell remarked.

"She's a sweet girl, wouldn't you agree?" Aerion replied, turning to meet Arianne's brilliant black eyes. "I would quite like her by my side someday."

"Behind that sweet smile is a shrewd and cunning girl with ambition."

"And I don't see an issue with that," Aerion replied, shrugging his shoulders. "No matter what, you will always be my first and most prominent wife. If I ever have multiple wives, you'll still be their Queen and take precedence over them."

"You know how to get what you want and what words to use every time." Arianne smiled, chuckling a little. "You've always been my greatest weakness..."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"... Sometimes."

~

1st day of the third moon, 297 AC.

The Small Council room.

For the occasion, there was a larger table for all of the Small Council's members, Lord Paramounts and Lord Magisters. It was there that Aerion established that Arianne's succession to Dorne will not be impacted by their marriage, temporarily halted the Crown's taxes on the Riverlands, Westerlands and North who were most impacted by the Second Greyjoy Rebellion, decided to pay for the damages done by the Ironborn using the gold that was reaved back along with a decent share of resources from the well-off Nine Great Cities. Viserys' plan to have slaves turn to smallfolk also would also be enacted, starting with Aerion 'convincing' his Lord Magisters to provide these slaves for free. Officially, Lyanna Stark, Robert Baratheon and their children would no longer be royals with all their claims to the Iron Throne being stripped away.

"Lastly, I'd like to speak of Valyria." Aerion announced, recalling its once-more perfect land. The restoration of this ruined land had been one of his blessings… but none of its great buildings came with it. "With the restoration of its beautiful lands, I plan to rebuild the city of Valyria and make it the capital of the New Valyrian Empire. It would only be fitting, of course. However, to achieve this end I require a fresh wave of building materials from every one of you."

"More details as to how much will be relayed after. Helia, I want you to subjugate all of Valyria's surrounding settlements, including Slaver's Bay and its cities. Through them, you will provide even more resources for Valyria's construction."

"Ho… finally, something fun to do." Helia smiled, bowing courteously. "I will ensure that the men in charge of those cities learn their place in the hierarchy."

"I would not be feeling fortunate if I ruled there." Viserys remarked, knowing full well of Helia's fondness of torture.

…

After settling everything of importance, Aerion dismissed those whom he didn't require. In the end, only Tywin, Varys, Viserys and Jaime remained.

"So… in regards to marriage, Viserys, you have plenty more suitors now." Aerion smiled as he searched through them all. "I'd like to propose a match that Lord Tywin here would love very much."

"..." Viserys sighed, shaking his head. "You want to hand over that vicious Lioness to me?"

"Indeed." Aerion smiled as he played with his wine cup a little, looking at the golden reflection of himself. "You are my uncle and not without your own charm. I believe the reason why Lord Edmure has no children of his own is simply because she drank an abundance of moon tea, refusing to bear his children. That being said, you simply have to seduce her and you win."

"Lord Tywin, do you have any… objections?"

"... None at all." Although he would've preferred Aerion as a son-in-law, Viserys Targaryen was quite the step up from Edmure Tully.

"And I win what… a wife who will sleep around, speak far too much for my liking and would prefer you over me any hour of the year." Viserys countered, not really liking the idea. "You should marry her instead."

"Viserys… you can marry several wives if you wish and have countless more concubines, she needn't be your only one nor am I asking you to fall in love." Aerion stated. "I swear, I'm giving you a beautiful golden-haired wife to bed and you complain. It's your duty as a member of House Targaryen to carry out my vision… and, as such, you will do as I say."

"... Fine, I'll complete my 'duty'." Viserys Targaryen gave in. "A duty that you can't bother to complete."

"Good."

"Royal marriages aside, I would like to mention a matter that's growing with concern." Varys stated. "People tell tales of vengeful spirits rising from the dead… Harrenhal, in particular. Magic all across the known world has been increasing in strength, or so I am told. Warlocks, witches, sorcerers and those who practice magic grow greater in power as do you… which may pose a threat to your rule."

"I will personally investigate this matter and decide on how to act in the next meeting," Aerion replied, retaining his reassuring tone. "If it grows troublesome, magic will have to be regulated across the New Valyrian Empire."

"An Order of Mages alongside the Knights does sound rather amusing." Viserys remarked.

"Hm… if their loyalties lie with us, then yes. They can be of use."

~

Aerion married Arianne in the Grand Sept of Baelor in the following week, naming her his Queen as a result. The Realm's subjects were sent back to their domains as Aerion returned to Sunspear to spend a great many warm days with his wife. It was the only place he felt truly at home, despite his rightful place being at King's Landing.

Enjoying this time to the fullest, Aerion did bed all of the Sand Snakes who were present in Sunspear - even Obara, who certainly had a warrior's constitution. This was, of course, all with Arianne's permission. Oberyn Martell was rather proud, acknowledging that he was, indeed, a hot-blooded Dornishman at heart and blood. Doran, on the other end, frowned at Aerion's ever so loose behaviour.

He had brought Ashara Dayne with him, too, whom he had grown to love enough to name as his second wife. Elia Martell felt a little weird having her lady-in-waiting marry her son who was twelve years her junior yet, in the end, she was happy for the both of them. The Kingsguard, as a result, jested that Ser Arthur would soon be an uncle, who simply smiled in response.

"If I were an uncle, I would be a proud one."

In this time, Aerion did knock up both Ashara Dayne and Arianne Martell in the hopes of a son. However, once his honeymoon phase was over, he turned his eyes to the North and flew over to Winterfell using a soul dragon. There was one more loose end that wrapped itself around his heart excluding the King North of the Wall… and that was his half-brother, who was known as Jon Snow.

He did not have much love for Rhaegar or Lyanna Baratheon - yet he still longed to be reunited with what was his only sibling in the world.

~

Jon Snow's perspective.

Growing up as the bastard of Winterfell wasn't quite so bad since Lord Eddard Stark cared for him as if he were his trueborn. His aunt, Lyanna Stark was rather kind too and treated him as well as, if not better than, her own children whenever she made the long journey to Winterfell. Meanwhile, Lady Catelyn was not quite so fond of him. She had a clear distaste for the bastard and rarely hid this distaste.

He grew up alongside Lord Eddard's children; Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran. Out of the four, he was closest to Robb whom he trained with and was quite fond of Arya too who was somewhat of an outcast like him.

Jon Snow was an observant young man who was quick to sense a slight due to his status as a bastard. He resented that title for the longest of times and always tried to prove that he could be as true and good as his half-brother Robb Stark. When he was a child, he dreamed of leading men to glory and even becoming a Conqueror. He looked up to men like King Daeron the Young Dragon along with Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen once his rise became prominent. It seemed as if he could never lose a battle as his sword carved through Essos like a cake, winning endless fame and renown.

Despite being Eddard Stark's bastard, he would cheer for the Dragon of the Seas and idolise him in secret.

"Robb, you're a bit slow on your feet today." Jon Snow remarked as he bested Robb Stark for a third time straight in a spar. "Not your day?"

"It seems so." Robb Stark smiled, admitting defeat. "Though, my lance is still truer than yours."

"... Fair." Jon Snow nodded, knowing that his half-brother's skill in the lance was greater than his own.

"Do not get ahead of yourself, Jon Snow." Catelyn Stark remarked, emphasising the 'Snow' part of his name.

"..." Jon Snow did not retort to Catelyn Stark's comment, simply nodding in her direction.

"You did well, Jon." Lyanna Baratheon smiled, ignoring Catelyn Stark and patting him on his shoulders. "One day, you'll make a finer swordsman than your father."

"You are too kind, Aunt Lyanna." Jon Snow was almost flushed whenever Lyanna Baratheon praised him. She was the closest thing he had to a proper mother whenever she visited Winterfell... or so he thought.

"ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"

A seemingly distant yet terrifying roar resonated through the land as the clouds broke apart, revealing a colossal ghastly emerald dragon. Another smaller dragon followed, black as the night with three heads, each fiercer than the last. These two dragons descended at the gates of Winterfell…

"Dragons… it can't be anyone else but the Dragon Emperor, Aerion Targaryen!" Jon Snow stated, finding it difficult to hide the excitement in his voice as he put away his sword.

"... So he's finally here. I didn't think he'd handle the cold." Robb Stark stated, racing with Jon Snow to greet the Dragon Emperor first. Yet, by the time they reached the gates, an entire crowd of people had gathered.

Surrounded by his Five Kingsguard, Aerion 'Stormcaller' of House Targaryen was the epitome of magnificence and had an appearance most fitting of his grand title 'Dragon Emperor'.

"I can always rely on you." Aerion smiled, taking back the dragon's soul into himself. Comically enough, he was covered in furs due to the harsh cold which he, a summer boy, wasn't used to. "Honestly, I do not understand how you people live here. I can barely take a piss in the snow."

"Now you know my struggles in Dorne." Jocelyn replied, breaking from the crowd.

"Oh right… you sweated enough to make a Dornish dessert humid!" Aerion chuckled, recalling her first visit to Sunspear.

Jon Snow had expected the Dragon Emperor to be a little more… dreadful, yet he was pleasantly surprised by his cheerful disposition that seemed to draw people to him. After keen observation, he realised why people followed him so easily.

Lord Eddard stepped forward to greet him.

"Your Grace." Bowing his head obediently, Eddard Stark welcomed Aerion Targaryen to Winterfell. "I take it the harsh weather has not been too kind but I greatly appreciate you making the long journey here."

"When we flew further ahead, he was quivering like-"

"Shut up." Aerion Targaryen commanded Robert Baratheon, silencing him before he was embarrassed.

"Alright, alright…" He laughed in response.

It was rather strange to see Robert Baratheon, the former King, be silenced so swiftly…

"Lord Eddard, where are all your wolf pups? I'd love to meet the bastard most of all."

'Me, of all people?'

It seemed as if Aerion Targaryen was intent on pronouncing the only clear stain on Lord Eddard's honour, though Ned did not hesitate as he gestured towards Jon Snow and the crowd made space for Aerion to make eye contact with him.

"Damn, you look like a whole Stark." Aerion chuckled, walking forwards and grabbing his shoulders. "You will be fourteen in the latter half of the year, am I correct?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Jon Snow had no idea why he was so fond of him but he wasn't complaining. For that moment, he was the star of the show. "It's... a great honour to meet you face to face."

He even went so low as to bend his knee, which made Aerion laugh a little from embarrassment.

"Rise... there's no need for you to be formal with me."

"... Are you certain, Your Grace?"

"Yes... rise or I'll cut off both your legs."

The Dragon Emperor's sense of humour could clearly be rather... strange, at times. But Jon Snow was convinced as he rose to his feet and was met with a warm smile from the beautiful silver-haired man - a smile he didn't feel like he deserved.

Everyone was confused, including Jon Snow most of all. Lyanna Baratheon, Eddard Stark and his Kingsguard (excluding Ser Barristan and Ser Robert) were less so... knowing a truth everyone else did not.

"Anyways, Lord Eddard, I fear that I might freeze to death soon... so I'd like to ask for a warm fire and some hot food."