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Legacy of the White Dragon : Dance of the Dragons

Aemon Targaryen/Jon Snow is slain in a cell when he waits for his fate after slaying Daenerys for the good of the realm. As the ones who kill him, was a terror thought slain, a clint of blue seen in the eyes who kill him. Brandon Stark was no more and wasn't since the Battle of Long Night. Knowing the world will fall into eternal Night and death will come for all. Gods of old send him back to into the time of the world when it lost one of its most valued strengths against the coming darkness. After hearing the gods, Jon accepts that he's reborn as Aemon Targaryen, son of Baelon Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, marking a new era. The gods hope the world is better prepared for the war, too. If he fails the gods, he won't have the power to revere it again. (Jon is sent back to times of the Dance of Dragons : The story starts on the second moon of the year 92 A.C.) The gods will send some other changes into the world. A Black dragon supposed to fade burns again, and mother, once lost, is seen again. So what happens when gods throw one last dice to help mankind? It will either change or it will fall, or it shall rise to it occasion.

HeroDuT1998 · Livros e literatura
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33 Chs

Chapter 4 : A Sister's Arrival and A Son's Confession

Lyanna Stark Targaryen (Year 99 A.C.)

Kingslanding - Lyanna Starks Chambers

She had thought. 'That after birthing Aemon two times, the pain of childbirth would somehow lessen, but she was mistaken.' The birthing pains had come once more, and she found herself confined to her bed, surrounded by maids and the castle's maester bustling about her.

"Lyanna, you are doing great. I'm so proud of you," her husband, Crown Prince Baelon Targaryen, whispered to her, his purple eyes filled with love and concern. As she endured the waves of pain, she silently prayed to the old gods, pleading for Baelon's continued health. She had already witnessed the birth of Aemon and watched him grow; she couldn't bear the thought of losing Baelon now. She and her children needed him.

She kissed him as he held her hand, just as he had during Aemon's birth. Baelon had defied anyone who dared tell him otherwise, insisting on being by her side. He was a loving and devoted husband, and she cherished him more each passing day.

Another surge of pain coursed through her body, and she pushed with all her strength. "Yes, Princess, just a little more. I see the head. Now, push," Maester Melos instructed. She followed his guidance, her exhausted body pushing until the ordeal finally ended.

With a triumphant cry, it was done. She let out an exhausted groan mixed with tears of happiness. "You have a girl, my Prince and Princess," Maester Melos announced. "A new princess for the realm."

"Give her to me," she requested, yearning to hold her child. However, her moment of happiness was interrupted as another wave of pain rippled through her body. It was not another child but the afterbirth, a necessary yet painful part of childbirth.

"Well done, Princess. It's all over now. You have given birth to a healthy babe," Maester Melos reassured her, handing the babe to her. Exhausted but elated, she cradled her daughter, who lay sleeping peacefully in her arms. The child was less rosy than Aemon had been but equally beautiful.

"She has your eyes this time and my black-brown raven hair," she said with wonder, looking at her daughter's closed eyes. She marveled at the child's perfect features, a blend of their bloodlines.

"She does, Lya. A beautiful girl," Baelon agreed, his eyes filled with love. He ran his fingers through his daughter's tufts of dark hair, and a contented smile graced his face. "Have you thought of any names, my love?"

' Visenya. The name came to her, a tribute to a legendary Targaryen from the past.' She thought is perfect for the little fierce daughter she now had. "What about Visenya? I think it's time our family had another Visenya. We already have a Rhaenys."

Baelon nodded in agreement, his approval clear. "Very well, my love. Visenya it shall be, for Visenya Targaryen, daughter of Baelon Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

As they shared a moment of joy, a servant entered the chamber, seeking permission for Prince Aemon and Prince Viserys to meet their new sibling. "My prince, Prince Aemon and Prince Viserys

asked to come see their sibling. May I let him in?" the servant inquired.

"You may, but please cover up the bed first. Aemon doesn't need to see all the blood. We will change the linens after he leaves," Baelon instructed.

Minutes later, their elder son, Aemon, rushed into the room, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could. He was followed closely by Viserys, who had taken care of his brother during the past few hours, a responsibility he had embraced with love.

"Muna, Kepa!" Aemon exclaimed, running to them. "Congratulations, Kepa," Viserys said.

Viserys joined the embrace with Baelon. Later, he congratulated her just as warmly. "Congratulations, Stepmother, you have given us and the realm a wonderful new Princess," Viserys said with his genuine smile. "You have given birth to a dark-haired one this time. I have doubted she will be as beautiful as her mother." He said as he looked at Visenya in her arms.

Aemon, in his childlike innocence, reached out to gently stroke Visenya's head, his eyes shining with love. "I protect you, Bale, and me. Will I make sure of it? I love you already very much, little sis."

But then, a flicker of fear crossed Aemon's face. His sudden distress alarmed her. "Aems, everything alright?" she asked with concern. "Is something troubling you?"

Aemon nodded, his eyes filling with tears. "Sorry, Muna," he muttered before bolting out of the chamber, running away.

Confused and worried, she called after him, "Aemon, wait!"

"Something is wrong, Baelon," she said, looking at him and then back to the door.

"I'll go talk to him," he said, leaving the chamber to find their son.

"He was worried for you, Lyanna, just like he was with Aemma both times he could remember. She was with child," Viserys remarked with a sad smile. "He's a good boy, my brother, caring for everyone around, especially his family. He is very responsible for some of his age." Viserys added, glancing at Visenya and back to the door where Aemon had felt toward.

"Aemon comforted me when Aemma went into labor the second time. I was so scared, but that three-year-old helped me through it. I love him and her with all my heart. Thank you, too, for Father. He was melancholy after my mother's death, and you have increased his spirits. Then came Aemon. You both made this family smile more, especially after Uncle Aemon's death," he expressed, giving her a heartfelt hug.

"Thank you, Viserys. You couldn't have been a better stepson or brother," she replied, kissing his cheek.

"Thank you. I'll leave you two alone now. I'm sure my grandfather would love to see her as well. I'm sure grandmother will be happy, having her another granddaughter,. So I'll give you some quiet time before all the noise comes," he said with a smile before leaving the room.

"Oh, little Visenya, I will protect you until my dying breath, just as I will for Aemon. I'm sure he will as well," she whispered as she gently kissed Visenya's brow.

Aemon Targaryen (Year 99 A.C.)

Kingslanding - Aemon's Chambers 

Relief washed over him as he saw his mother and sister were safe and healthy. Yet, the emotions he felt were overwhelming. The fear of losing his mother to childbirth again was almost too much to bear.

When he looked at Visenya and saw his mother was all right, he couldn't help but cry. Overwhelmed by a mixture of relief, love, and lingering trauma, he decided to run away, not wanting to dampen the joyful moment with his tears. He fled to his chamber, seeking solace in the corner where he could let his emotions flow freely.

"Aemon, are you here?" His father's concerned voice reached him. He had followed him. "Aems, what's wrong?" Baelon asked as he picked up his son, holding him tightly. "Do you want to talk about it?" he inquired as he cried into his father's shoulder. The weight of his past lives and the fear of losing his newfound family had become too much.

"Hmm, it's alright, your mother is fine. As is your sister," Baelon reassured him, wiping away his tears. "You will have the chance to play with her and your mother when they are both stronger. Your mother is as strong as a wolf, and your sister, a dragonwolf like you," Baelon added, offering a reassuring smile.

"Kepa, don't go. Please," He pleaded. 'Fearing the loss of this man, he had grown to love and consider his true father. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him. It was an odd thing really loving him like that, but it felt true, and he didn't want to let it go.' He thought as he held his father tightly.

"I'm here, Aemon. I won't leave you. I love you and won't ever leave, okay?" His father promised, his words filled with genuine affection. But instead of comforting him, they triggered more tears for him. He felt weak. 'But perhaps it was a part of childhood he never could feel when he was younger. A bastard had to grow up faster, after all.' He thought as he sobbed.

He despised himself at this moment, feeling weak for breaking down like this. The thought of losing his family again was tearing him apart. Balerion's voice, "You aren't alone, little dragon, remember," echoed in his mind as he cried, offering comfort and guidance.

"You do have a strong bond," His father remarked as he heard Balerion's roar in the distance. "Just like you, you are strong. Remember that. Everything will be alright, Aemon. We all love you, and nothing will ever change that," he added, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

As time passed, he gradually calmed down. His father put him to bed, and eventually, he drifted off to sleep, still wrestling with his inner turmoil but feeling reassured by the presence of his father and his dragon friend.

The following day, he left his chamber and went to his mother's chambers. "Muna?" he called out, ready for this challenging conversation. 'He couldn't carry the burden of his true identity and the knowledge of his past lives any longer without sharing it with her.' He thought as he walked toward his mother.

"Aems, come here," his mother invited, opening her arms to him. He climbed into the bed and hugged her tightly, finally finding the courage to reveal the truth.

"Mother, there's something I must tell you," he began, his voice trembling. "I wasn't sure when I should, but yesterday made me realize I should tell you. Now, before I lose the chance," he said, whispering the words.

"Of course, Aemon. You can tell me anything. I'm your mother, pup," she reassured him with a warm smile, holding him close.

He took a deep breath and confessed, "I know you aren't from this time, Mother." Her eyes widened in shock. "Aemon, what are you talking about? Of course, I am," she protested. He smiled as he knew the truth.

"Please, Muna, listen. I know because I'm not from this time either," he explained, sadness in his eyes. "I'm the same Aemon you gave birth to, also those years ago at the Tower of Joy."

"No, it can't be," she gasped, disbelief evident in her voice. "The gods told me I would give birth to you again at a different time, but not that you would be from my own time or why."

"Yes, I'm that boy you gave to your brother Eddard Stark after he found you at the tower," he confessed. "Unfortunately, you died of childbed fever, but I have been alive now for almost 28 years. Just as old as you. The time where I came from, I failed and died. When I died the second time, the Old and Valyrian gods sent me back in time, and I was reborn as Aemon, son of Lyanna Stark and Baelon Targaryen."

"No, please don't say you died at the age of twenty," she pleaded, her voice trembling with sorrow.

"I'm sorry, but yes, my brother Brandon Stark, son of Eddard Stark, was the one who killed me. But he wasn't the Brandon I knew. A great evil, The Night King, had taken control of him, who in turn is a puppet of The Great Other. The gods told me much more. After my death, the Old and Valyrian gods sent me back in time to prepare the world once more, perhaps to change what happens in this time or reduce the overall loss." He explained, tears welling up in his eyes.

"So you've lived a life, my brother, to care for you, help in your claim for the throne if you so desired, and restore your family to power. As he promised he would me as I lay dying," his mother asked with a sad smile. 'What? His mother had asked his brother to take care of him and help him take back the throne if he chose to. He felt anger then, a cold anger that he pushed aside and wasn't something he wouldn't get into now.' He thought with a cold anger before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry, but my uncle never told me who my mother was. I grew up thinking I was a bastard of your brother. I ended up at the Wall, thinking I would gain honor. That was the only place a bastard could truly gain it," he snarled.

"No, he betrayed me. He shipped his nephew to the Wall so that whoremonger oaf could stay on the throne," she said, half-crying, and held him more tightly.

"I found friends, mother, and love beyond the Wall. I fought and brought Wildlings past the Wall. I died at the Wall for the first time, and the Red Witch brought me back the first time. Then I became the King of the North and later a Warden to my aunt Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Rhaella and Aerys, born after the rebellion. Who became my love, and then I became a kinslayer, killing her after she burnt King's Landing. Then I was put into a cell, where the Night King found me, and I was in that cell that I died, thinking I had failed when the Old and Valyrian gods gave me this chance. To prepare the realm for the Night King and the Great Other plans for the world. That is a brief summary, mother. So when I saw you giving birth, I thought I was losing you again. Then I saw you and Visenya, and I could take no more, and then I ran from it all," he said, and he ended up crying.

She held him for a couple of minutes before speaking. "Oh, Aemon, I'm sorry I wasn't there and for the life you had. But we are here now together and make the most of this chance. Now tell me all of your life and the world I left behind," she said, tears in her eyes.

He did, and they sat there for an hour or two. His mother changed from anger to happiness as he recalled the tale. Arya, Ygritte, and Dany mostly seemed to cheer her up. Or some of the stories of him at Winterfell or his friends at Castle Black and the Free Folk. But she was angered and grieved when she heard of his treatment at Winterfell, the death of her nephews, or the treatment of Sansa. But she laughed when she heard Robert didn't have any legitimate children of his own.

"Well, Aemon, I'm happy you lived and found some form of happiness in that life. But in this one, we'll make the most of it, my son, and try to live it to the fullest. Try to prepare the Seven Kingdoms for the coming of the Night King and the Great Other," she said with a warm smile.

"Mother, can you tell me how it all happened? The rebellion. I know now that Rhaegar is my father in that other life, and he didn't rape you as it was said in the Seven Kingdoms after the rebellion. Could you tell me how it all came to be?" he asked, yearning to understand the truth of his past.

They were interrupted by a small cry, and his mother chuckled softly. "It seems someone is hungry," she remarked. "Speaking of which, I will have some food brought for us. After we've eaten, I'll tell you the tale from my perspective. Can you hand Visenya over to me?" He nodded as he walked over to his little sister, taking her out of her crib.

So, after they had settled, his mother told him the tale of how she had met his father in her previous life. Funny enough, in both lives, she had met him at Harrenhal. She explained how she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree and how his father had protected her and introduced her to Elia. Afterward, they became friends, and he later crowned her as the Queen of Love and Beauty because she had saved Howland Reed. He, in turn, saved her from the man who had discovered her identity as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. They eventually married, and Elia retired to Dorne. But everything went to hell when the Mad King murdered her father and brother. She then shared how it all ended with his birth in the Tower of Joy.

"A sad tale, mother. The singers sang a totally different song. After the rebellion, Robert Baratheon fought to reclaim his lady love, only to have her die in the end," he scoffed, remembering how the fat man had looked when he rode into Winterfell, known as the Demon of the Trident.

"Yes, that's how history works, my son. It is written by the victors," she said with a wry smile. "Son, I'm proud of you, you know. I am proud of what you did then and of this one. You are a dragon rider in both lives, and if someone had told me that my son would ride a dragon, I would have laughed. Yet, here you are, riding the Black Dread," she laughed softly.

"Well, about Balerion, I can communicate with him because of my blood," he admitted shyly.

"Damn you, Aemon, for not telling me sooner. How long have you been able to do this?" she asked, surprised.

"Since my birth, Mother. We share a bond, and he is connected to our bloodline—the Song of Ice and Fire. It also made my childhood less boring because I could talk with someone who understood me. "He explained, relieved to share this secret with her finally.

"That's how you knew about my pregnancy. It also explains your behavior so well. As an adult in a child's body, I know I had many thoughts when I was eleven years old, the age I woke up after the words with gods. The maester said I woke from a fever. I was given memories of Lyanna's life, so I understand some of what it's like yours. New uncle Benjen was born a few weeks later. "She said with a chuckle, shaking her head. "Well, from now on, no more secrets. We will make the most of this second chance we've been given, and we will prepare the realm for what is to come," she declared, enveloping him in another warm hug.

So he finally told his mother, allowing someone else to share his burden. He could now confide in her and find solace in her presence. As he went to sleep in his mother's arms, he felt a newfound peace settling within him.

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End Note : I wish to formally declare that I hold no ownership over any lines, worldbuilding aspects, or characters derived from the following works: "Game of Thrones," "House of the Dragon" TV show, or the broader "A Song of Ice and Fire" universe.

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