Now And Forever

'This is why I have multiple wives…'

Aerion remarked, feeling a certain sword rise up again while he was behind Visenya. Every sword needed its sheath… and his was without one for far too long. It felt neglected and craved attention, lighting up at any opportunity. Aerion was too proud to use his hands and too faithful to sleep with a woman that was not a wife of his… so he froze the flame.

'Gods, this feels agonising.'

"Where did you earn the scar on your left eye?"

"Oh... it was in single combat," Aerion replied, surprised that it was Visenya that broke the ice. "I was just a boy then, although a lethal boy. We had danced for what seemed hours... each moment lasting far longer than it should have. While I tried to keep him at a good distance and tire him out, he was as swift as the wind and as fierce as flame. Hence... he got my eye towards the end of our dance. However, I drove my blade through his chest in retaliation."

"And who was your opponent?"

"A khal of the Dothraki. Khal... means king in their language. He was a true warrior who united over tens of thousands with his strength. It took everything I had to slay him back then." Aerion recalled his clash with Khal Drogo, taking pride in his victory and the scar that came from it. It reminded him of what he was; the victor. From then until now. "He... was the first king that I killed."

"But not the last?"

"No, not the last." Aerion nodded.

"Although I've never heard of these events from anyone else... you sound far too proud for it to be a lie."

"I am a warrior, you know." Aerion smiled. "I'd never lie about a victory. Exaggerate it slightly, mayhaps... but lie? I have won far too many times to lie."

"Then mayhaps you could teach me something in regards to combat," Visenya suggested.

'Jocelyn can have a sparring partner, too... it's not a terrible idea.'

"It would be my pleasure to train at arms with a queen. If... you would have me, of course."

"I will see to it that you do."

~

Once again, the three siblings gathered. This time, however, it was at the Trident. An army of fifty thousand stood with them… a great deal more than the thirty-thousand strong host of Torrhen Stark. Once the armies drew close enough to each other, it was Torrhen Stark who sent his bastard brother Brandon Snow alongside three maesters to treat with Aegon.

"I did not know King Aegon had a brother." Brandon Snow approached the camp with his three maesters. He looked towards Aerion and Aegon.

Aerion glanced at Aegon and shrugged. "The Prince of Harrenhal would have a nice ring to it."

"So you are the lord without a last name. The shadow of Harrenhal... hah, you look like a boy." Brandon Stark remarked, frowning before turning to Aegon. "If it were up to me, the North would have fought till the end. But… my brother wishes for peace."

'A boy? Boy, I'd ruin your pretty face with a single swing.'

"The wiser brother wears the crown," Visenya remarked.

"Hmph… "

"What are his terms?" Aegon inquired.

"That he remains Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North..."

Aerion found the constant exchange of messages rather tedious but, in due time, both sides were on the same page. Torrhen Stark made an appearance before King Aegon and bent the knee, leaving his crown before Aegon's feet and surrendering several swords for the Iron Throne that would be built.

With the submission of the North, only some of the Reach including Oldtown and all of Dorne remained. Aerion joined the ride to Oldtown, where Lord Hightower swore fealty and the High Septon anointed Aegon in the seven oils. He was then declared King Aegon of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.

Aerion, having proudly bared witness to this event, returned to the Iron Islands and later Harrenhal with Jocelyn Baratheon in his company. Meanwhile, Queen Rhaenys made an attempt to conquer Dorne in the name of her brother.

...

Queen Rhaenys flew past the Dornish spearmen guarding the Prince's Pass and went straight to Vaith and Godsgrace, only to find the castles abandoned. She then flew to Planky Town, where she only found women and children. Then, she finally flew to Sunspear which was also abandoned... except for Meria Martell, the old Princess of Dorne, who was waiting rather patiently.

When Queen Rhaenys asked for her submission, Meria Martell spurned her;

"I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that."

"I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and next time we shall come with fire and blood." Queen Rhaenys frowned a little, looking down at the seated old Meria Martell.

"Your words, Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril."

...

"How can I return to my time? You useless system, stop acting like you can't hear me." Aerion demanded, floating in his world of dreams.

"Gods, can't you just sit back for a while? I know you are restless by nature but keep it in." The system finally replied.

"..." Aerion frowned. "It would be rather easy to lay back if all of my wives, children, family, friends and my entire Empire wasn't over three centuries in the future."

"Well, this is an entirely different universe so that's not exactly accurate." The system replied. "As for what's happening out there... don't worry about it too much, that world can wait for you. Focus on the present. Focus on what you set out to do... your promise... and whatever else you may desire. This is a grand opportunity to discover yourself and your ancestors."

'I see... mayhaps I was worrying too much.'

~

King Aegon set aside Dorne for the moment, focusing on consolidating his power and preparing for a proper invasion of Dorne. Meanwhile, Aerion kept Vickon Greyjoy as the castellan of Pyke who also acted as lord paramount of the Iron Islands in his absence. The lands surrounding Harrenhal prospered as Aerion used the dead to work the land and settled many of the issues the smallfolk had.

Later Jocelyn mocked his plain black banner and lack of a house name, indirectly calling him 'Lord Commander of the Night's Watch'. As a result, Aerion went on to create a personal sigil that would act as his new house's banner; a single-headed black dragon with an emerald sun at its back on a field of black. Then he named his house House Helaerys, giving it the words 'Reap What They Sow'.

Time went by, and before he knew it, it had been a year since Aegon was crowned in Oldtown. During this year, Aerion had spent a decent amount of his time writing several books of the Realm's history from 100 AC to 304 AC in quite some detail. His flawless memory had served him rather well in this instance.

While Aerion mostly enjoyed life at Harrenhal, Jocelyn Baratheon would often visit the Aegonfort and live the court lifestyle. As Queen Rhaenys was the most prominent figure at court most of the time, instead of clashing, the two made rather good friends.

...

1 AC, Aegonfort.

The court grew silent as Aerion made his regal entrance, stealing the breaths of ladies and lords alike. Queen Rhaenys was the one who sat atop the daunting Iron Throne while her siblings were away on a royal progress. As Aerion continued his walk, his vampiric senses heard almost every whisper. From his way of taking Harrenhal with sorcery and 'ghosts' to how handsome he was and then to how he came from nothing, a 'lowborn' to a lord paramount...

It was rather amusing.

"Queen Rhaenys." Aerion bowed his head slightly in respect. "As ravishing and cheery as ever."

"And your knees are just as stiff." Rhaenys chuckled, resting her head on her hand. "No matter, I did not summon you to kneel. As for my reason... well, it has come to my attention that you have a promise to keep."

"Which one may that be?"

"To my lady Jocelyn." Rhaenys smiled, exchanging a glance with Jocelyn. "Although neither of you have spared anyone the details, it is well-known that you are betrothed to each other. That said... both of you are above the age of majority and love each other dearly. As Queen, I believe it would only be fitting that you wed."

"I have no disputes." Aerion nodded. "As of recent... I have been occupied with my duties as Lord of Harrenhal but I will make preparations for a proper wedding."

After that was settled, Aerion went to speak with Jocelyn in private.

"You should've asked me instead." Aerion ruffled Jocelyn's hair. "Now, the court thinks me for an unwilling man."

"You'll have to prove them wrong, then." Jocelyn smiled.

"And you… want to marry here?" Aerion tilted his head, frowning a little.

"Who says we can't have a second wedding when we return? Besides... you have no idea when we can return. It could be weeks, it could be months, years, maybe even decades..."

Aerion chuckled. "You're right."

~

As promised, Aerion announced his wedding and invited the lords of the Realm to celebrate. He was kind enough to give them three months to make their arrival, leading to quite a boisterous roster of guests even for Harrenhal. Vickon Greyjoy, Edmyn Tully, Orys Baratheon, Loren Lannister, Harlen Tyrell, Torrhen Stark (totally was not kidnapped and coerced), Sharra Arryn and many other great lords made their arrival. Even King Aegon and both of his sister-wives joined the celebration. Only the great House Martell was absent, although that was to be expected. The Seven Kingdoms weren't quite yet one.

Aerion looked into the mirror, observing his tailored emerald-black outfit. All silk and Myrish lace with satin linings, it was quite expensive and more so imposing with the choice of colour. Nothing was out of order with his face… as usual, it seemed sculptured to perfection.

'Aegon the Unworthy smiles upon me.'

Aerion sarcastically thought of Aegon IV, who had plenty of mistresses in his time and was well known for his promiscuity. For a moment, he considered what his grandfather and father would think if they were watching from above… or below. The Usurper's daughter and their grandson/son…

'My grandfather must be rolling in the grave.' Aerion chuckled, taking off his necklace to the side. 'I can't have this hanging around when the ladies undress me.'

…

Aerion stood before the High Septon (who totally wasn't kidnapped and coerced either), watching the entrance of the hall of Harrenhal's sept. Despite being ironborn, Harren the Black had actually built a sept in the colossal Harrenhal. It was strange, certainly, but perhaps he wanted to appeal to the Faith of the Seven and southerners.

The doors were pushed open, from which a veiled Jocelyn and Aegon Targaryen emerged. King Aegon stood in for the father, slowly taking Jocelyn to Aerion. He gave her hand to him and stepped to the side with a smile.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Aerion and Jocelyn exchanged looks before the latter turned around and showed her back. Aerion stepped forward, wrapping his Helaerys cloak around Jocelyn's shoulders.

Jocelyn turned around and they both faced each other before exchanging a kiss.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love."

They both said, following it up with;

"... And take you for my lord and husband."

"... And take you for my lady and wife."

The High Septon nodded, stating some more words before ending it with the most important line;

"One heart, one soul, now and forever."

After it was made official, Aerion smiled and tripped Jocelyn only to raise her up in both of his arms.

"Woah... what are you doing?" A flushed Jocelyn asked. "This..."

"Damn, you're one heavy bride..." Aerion chuckled. "But how could I have the pride to call myself a man if I couldn't carry my own wife? To the feast we go, my knights, lords, ladies, queens and king!"

"Aye!"

And so, Aerion led his guests out of the sept while carrying Jocelyn in his arms... as it was customary in Northern wedding ceremonies.