Chapter 9 : Pledge's

Viserys Targaryen (103 A.C.)

Kingslanding

He sat in his solar, reading all the letters from the paramounts and lords who hadn't attended the coronation. The one person the Daemon couldn't help but mention was his youngest brother. However, he knew Aemon would have his reasons; his brother didn't do things without a purpose.

Still, he loved the boy, and his little sister as well, often called the Northern prince and princess. The North now boasted three of the realm's largest dragons. Vhagar, by all accounts, still followed his little brother around. But he didn't ride to her not even Aemon could, as a rider could have only one dragon, and a dragon only one rider.

So, when he saw the seal of his little brother among the pledges of loyalty to him as the new king, he opened it right away.

"My dear Brother,

In unwavering dedication, I present myself to strengthen the foundations of our noble House and support your enduring reign, which holds the key to our family's future prosperity. I, Prince Aemon of House Targaryen and Stark, Lord of Sea Dragon Point and the Seadragon Holt, promise to be faithful to King Viserys Targaryen, my king, brother, and liege. I pledge fealty to him until the end of his days. This solemn vow was sealed in blood. I swear this to the old gods and the gods of Valyria.

(Attached to this solemn pledge is the signature of Aemon, inscribed with his own blood, accompanied by his unique seal.) That was odd, no Seven were mentioned, but the inclusion of the gods of our ancestors.

Regrettably, my present duties prevent me from being present in person. The crucial endeavor of establishing a bastion in the North to fortify our House is of paramount importance. The governance and ongoing progress demand my unyielding presence. Nevertheless, upon my return, I shall elucidate the reasons for my absence or extend an invitation for our king to grace my humble abode in the North.

Rest assured, the House of the Dragon shall stand unwavering for centuries to come, as I willingly devote my life to this sacred cause, as promised to our revered father and grandfather. Let us always bear in mind the words of our father, who cautioned that the only threat capable of bringing down our house is none other than itself.

May your resolve remain unbreakable and your determination resolute.

With unwavering loyalty, Aemon Targaryen and Stark, Lord of Sea Dragon"

Aemon's words were true, and it seemed his younger and more impetuous brother had taken to ruling his keep. Although he wished Aemon was here to help, he understood that sometimes a lord's duties took precedence, just as a king must prioritize his realm.

He only hoped Daemon would fulfill his duty to his lady wife and strengthen the family in the Vale, as Aemon had done in the North.

"Your grace, your brother is here to see you. May he be allowed inside?" Ser Ryam asked.

"Yes, send him in." Daemon walked in, clad in his usual black and red attire, with a proud dragon sigil on his chest.

"Brother, how are your duties? Already bored?" Daemon chuckled.

"Well, not so much, Daemon. For now, the realm is at peace, and when Aemma gives me a son, the realm will settle even more." Giving his brother a stern look, Daemon sat down in the chair in front of him. "Surely, a nephew would be most welcome to our family. Ah, I see our wolf has written you again," Daemon said, noticing the letter.

"He is a true dragon, brother, and dutiful to our house. So why are you here?" Viserys asked, irritation evident in his tone. He had grown weary of Daemon's constant belittling of Aemon and Visenya.

"Sure, he is a dragon, but it's not about him. I want you to annul my marriage to that bronze bitch. The marriage remains unconsummated, and I wish to marry a Valyrian, not a First Man woman."

Was he mad, wanting to dissolve his marriage just days after the ceremony? "No," Viserys replied firmly, echoing the word Daemon had once used to deny him. Now was not the time to dissolve the marriage; perhaps in the future, when the realm had adjusted to his rule and he had an heir.

"What do you mean, no? I have been bound to her because of the old king. Now that you are king, you deny me this? I helped secure your position, speaking with the lords and projecting strength as your sword," Daemon snarled angrily.

"Daemon, I won't annul your marriage, not now. Go or summon Lady Royce, so you can have a family of your own. But if you won't be my Master of Laws, so I can see if you can fulfill your duty to your family that way," he said, his voice low.

"This isn't over, brother, but yes, I will take the position of Master of Laws, as commanded by my king." Daemon said as he stood up from his chair, bowed, and walked out of the room. Viserys sighed; he hoped that the responsibilities of his new position would temper his brother.

(Later that evening)

"What's troubling you, Viserys? You've seemed preoccupied all evening," his lovely wife asked.

"Yes, my sweet," he replied as he took one of her hands. "Is it your brother? Is he causing you trouble?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, very much so. He wants his marriage annulled. It cannot be done. I am just beginning my reign, and it would insult the entire Vale if I allowed it. Although I know Rhae isn't the most pleased with the marriage either. Still, it is important for the unity of the realm, just as my father's marriage to Princess Lyanna was."

"Indeed, my love. Lyanna was a blessing, as were her children. Aemon wrote to me and pledged himself to his king. He is occupied with the rulership of his lands. Sometimes, I hope that Daemon would be more like Aemon—dutiful and content, thinking before he speaks. I just hope that when Aemon returns from his marriage, he and Daemon can reconcile," he said, his hope evident.

"Perhaps they can," she said, giving him a kiss.

Coryls Velaryon (103 A.C.)

Kingslanding

Small Council

Returning to the council chamber after leaving following the Great Council was not easy. His wife, the beautiful Rhaenys Targaryen, known as the Queen that never was. Now, he occupied the chair of the Master of Ships again.

He couldn't help but glance at Rhaenyra, the king's cupbearer. She possessed the Valyrian looks and was beginning to blossom into a beauty, despite being only nine namedays old. Any future husband would be fortunate to wed a daughter of a king. While his own son would make a suitable match, for now, he had to be content with Aemon, the Northern Prince. He took pride in that the man marrying his daughter showed promise as a great leader—a source of pride for a father and future father-in-law.

"Your Grace, the realm would be wise to reduce the funding for Sea Dragon Point," Grand Maester Melos suggested. "The castle and the city have been under construction since Aemon's birth, but after twelve years, no keep has been built—only expansive docks, a moat, and a wooden palisade." This statement caused him and even Lord Beesbury to scoff. He couldn't fathom why the Grand Maester would propose such a thing.

"Why, that would be a slight to the Starks, and as for the lordship, the letters exchanged between my daughter and Aemon tell the town is already been built, with farmlands, fishing villages, and lumberyards thriving. Sea Dragon Point hasn't been this bustling in a hundred years," he retorted, his voice unwavering.

"That may be, but what about the fact that the prince was absent from your coronation? What could a boy of two and ten be so preoccupied with?" Melos inquired. "He's right, brother. Why wasn't our little brother present at your crowning?" Daemon chimed in with a sly smile.

He knew why Aemon hadn't attended, but Aemon had asked that his discovery remain a secret. Aemon didn't trust the maester, and the fact that a twelve-year-old had made a discovery that eluded the wisest minds in the world was unsettling. The rider of Balerion had rediscovered Valyrian steel and the Blackstone of Valyria, another lost Valyrian art. The Blackstone carvings Aemon had sent to his daughter and wife were masterpieces, harder than anything he had ever encountered. Perhaps the Citadel was displeased with the young prince's transformation of Seadragon Holt into a formidable seat.

"My brother has pledged his oath in a letter and made vows to the gods. He is a devoted prince of the realm, and I will not cease funding for my dear brother. Nor will I revoke my grandfather and father's agreement with the Starks. Sea Dragon Point shall be the Targaryen bastion in the North and West," Viserys declared firmly, his anger evident. The realm knew of the deep bond between the two brothers, and Viserys would always defend him and preserve that connection.

"Well, reports have emerged that the prince has been using his dragon to melt stone, causing injury to several stonemasons. He personally labors at the construction site, including a smithy at the center where Seadragon Holt is to be built, Your Grace. There are also reports of entire families being killed by the Black Dread, among other mysterious occurrences. I would suggest summoning the prince to explain these matters before the king and council," the Hand asserted.

"While I may disagree with the reports of entire families being killed, how do we know it wasn't solely the Black Dread's doing? As for the other matters, my brother is not a problem. If there are issues, Lord Stark and the other Northern lords will voice their concerns directly to me, their king. This discussion ends here; my brother will return in three years for his marriage to Lady Laena, and until then, Sea Dragon Point will recieve funding form the crown," Viserys proclaimed, his irritation clear.

"As you wish, Your Grace. We only wish to inform you. The prince has two dragons with him, both the largest and oldest of their kind. This is not something we can ignore," the Hand conceded, bowing his head to the king.

"Yes, very well. Well if you find it necessary, though I know my brother well enough to believe he doesn't act without careful consideration," the king acknowledged.

"Indeed, Your Grace. Our little brother's achievements are impressive—the Northern Prince and rider of Balerion—an extraordinary feat," Daemon added with a sly grin.

"Daemon," the king cautioned in a low voice, a single word conveying his disapproval. "What's the matter, brother? I was merely offering compliments," Daemon feigned innocence.

"Yes, of course, my king. Your brother only meant to compliment—the Northern Prince and rider of Balerion are certain titles to be proud of," the Hand interjected, ever the sycophant. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes; the man had been nothing but a lickspitel, since replacing Baelon as Hand, though he was diligent and had served capably.

Rhaenyra Targaryen (103 A.C.)

Kingslanding

The Red Keep was a less cheerful place compared to her previous visits to the court. Her friend and uncle, Aemon, was no longer here, and Laenor had joined him after Lord Corlys assumed the role of Master of Ships. Laena had accompanied her mother again to Driftmark to learn about ruling a keep in her husband's absence. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent, the only one remaining from their original group of companions.

Alicent had matured, and her womanhood was beginning to show, which made Rhaenyra somewhat envious. But she hoped that she, too, would come into her own as she grew older. Her other friend, whom she had met on Dragonstone, had even mounted her own dragon. She named the dragon Syrax, after one of the Valyrian gods they had read about as children. Riding her dragon had been the most exhilarating experience of her life. Feeling the wind rush through her hair and gazing down at Dragonstone and the Blackwater from the skies were moments of pure joy. Flying with her father on his dragon, Goynogar, was also among her cherished memories. Syrax was still too small to carry more than one rider.

"Princess," Alysanne greeted her with a bow. "Please call me Rhaenyra, Alicent. We are friends, after all, aren't we? The last ones who are still here."

"Yes, we are," Alicent agreed, "but as far as I know, they will return to the keep for Aemon's marriage, although it's still three years away."

"The wedding of Laena and Aemon," Rhaenyra said with a sigh. "The event the realm has been talking about since it was announced. Sometimes I wonder... I am the king's daughter, but I will never be a son, a true heir. Both Daemon and Aemon are the heirs. Some would even argue that Rhaenys or Laenor still come before me."

"I understand your feelings," Alicent replied, "my father thinks of me in much the same way. I know he loves me, but I will never be a son like Gwayne or Martyn. However, I will fulfill my duty when the time comes, as is expected of me, as both the septas and my mother have taught me."

"I'm sorry about your mother, Alicent," Rhaenyra said softly. "Lady Allonar was a kind woman from what I could tell when I met her before. I hope my letter reached you and conveyed my prayers for your mother." She reached out and held Alicent's hands.

"Thank you, Rhaenyra," Alicent replied, her voice trembling. "She passed away peacefully in her sleep, at the end of her fever. She hoped I would find a good husband and have a family, just as she did. I hope for the same one day."

"You will, my friend, we both will," Rhaenyra assured her. "You are a catch for any man. Besides, being a friend of a princess might have its advantages. Come, let's not be late for our lessons, or our septa will be quite displeased." She giggled and walked hand in hand with Alicent to their lesson.

Aemon Targaryen (104 A.C.)

Sea Dragon Point

"Mother, little sister, welcome to Sea Dragon Holt," he said as he walked toward them. It had been a year since he had seen them. He loved them both, as he did his uncle. But he had stayed behind at Winterfell. However, his cousins Rickon and Bennard had come, as well as his aunt Lysa.

"Son, you have grown, and it also seems your keep has grown as well. The walls have been built, I see, or mostly completed to the height they should be?" His mother said as she marveled at the black walls on the hill where Seadragon Holt stood. Sea Dragon Point had grown over the past year, both in trade and in power. The continued influx of people had boosted its prosperity.

"Your uncle is proud of you as well. The plans and the port of Sea Dragon Point have increased trade in the North. Although he is petitioning the king to build a road from Seadragon Holt to Winterfell. However, if not, perhaps the North can do it themselves if the profits continue as they are," his aunt added.

"Very well, I suppose the roads now are mostly dirt, so it would be beneficial for trade. I suspect House Glover would be more than open to it. But we will have to speak more on this later. First, let me show you the city that has sprung up. Although there is still much work to be done, the most wonderful sight for now, I would say, is the smithy and the harbor," he said with a bright smile.

"Vis, are you up for flying? Or have you already been up, trying to sneak out of Winterfell and ride Dreamfyre?" he asked his little sister as he took her up in his arms, causing her to giggle in delight.

"No, Muna said no, make Dreamy sad. I wanted to fly with you, Aems," his little sister replied, her purple eyes looking at him in delight. His mother stared at him with a stern look, causing him to gulp.

"We will be careful, Mother. Balerion won't drop us," he assured her. "Mother, can we fly too? It's been a year since I last flew," Rickon said with delight, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Well, if Rick is flying, I want to fly too," a four-nameday-old Bennard spoke up with delight.

"Aemon is safe. It would be wrong for me to become a kinslayer," Lysa said.

"Yes, Aunt, they are kin, and Balerion knows them as such. They are safe, but both, just like Vis, will have to listen to my commands," he said as they walked toward the temporary keep.

"This is where you lived in this past year?" His mother asked, half-shocked.

"Yes, a small hall with all the necessities. I don't need much. The construction of the true keep is underway; its foundations and walls, as you can see, are done. The castle's private harbor is also complete. But the Keep itself isn't. The smithy, walls, and harbor were the most needed," he answered with a smile.

"Ah, my lords, my ladies, and Princess, welcome to the Wooden Dragon. It is an honor to finally have you here after all this time. I had hoped Seadragon Holt was livable, but the prince had to build the masonry and the smithy first. It was more than the correct decision, I might add," his steward and castellan, Ser Wylard Manderly, said with a smile.

"Oh, Wylard, how long has it been? I haven't seen you since the tourney at Harrenhal. All those years ago, you look well," his mother said in delight.

"I have been well, Princess. It has been a great honor to be steward to your son. Seeing this place built and the harbor—it reminds me of White Harbor," Wylard replied with a smile as he kissed his mother's hand. It was true; he had heard of his mother's friendship with the second son of White Harbor. One of the many reasons Baelon, Lyanna, and the late Lord Rickard had chosen him as the steward of Sea Dragon Point.

"Please, tell us of the mischief my son has been giving you. He would never tell me himself," she said mockingly as she looked at him. There was his mother, and he missed her. The Lyanna of old was in there now and then, and perhaps Wylard could bring her some happiness. He had lost his own wife to childbed fever some years ago.

"Oh, I couldn't, in good conscience, betray my lord, Princess. I swore an oath," Wylard said with a chuckle. He chuckled, but he did, and everyone who knew the Valyrian secrets he had discovered had known the consequences of breaking that oath. Although he knew Wylard never would.

"Good answer, my lord," he said with a chuckle. "Please show my family to their chambers. I will go with my mother to the smithy and show her the progress we have made here."

"Very well, Visenya, go with your cousin. You and Aemon will be flying tomorrow," his mother said as she kissed her daughter on the brow.

"Okay, you promise..." Visenya asked him.

"Yes, little Dragonwolf, tomorrow we will fly," he said as he ruffled her raven-brown hair, her purple eyes shining with delight.

"Come, Mother," he said, holding out his hand, with Ser Harrold following closely behind. Ser Clement followed Visenya inside the Wooden Dragon, her loyal Kingsguard.

"You have done well, son. Sea Dragon Point really reminds me of Dragonstone, but it looks more homely than that place, though that might be because we are in the North rather than the Narrow Sea and the South," she said, and he felt pride in her words. He missed his past Stark siblings, but the betrayals of Sansa and his uncle still stung when he thought back on that time. Being here with his mother and his new family was healing that wound.

He looked at the South Gate of the Seadragon Holt was one of the only gatehouses that was totally complete. The other two only had their walls and foundations built.

"Thank you, Mother, it has been hard work, but the two years of labor have paid off. The foundations and the walls are works of art, and other lost arts have been rediscovered. You will see it soon."

"Sometimes I forget you aren't a twelve-year-old boy but a man of thirty-two namedays. But that is more than worth seeing you now, and having Visenya as well," she smiled.

"I feel the same. It's weird, but right now I have a life I built for myself. But the scars of that past life I will always carry, though they have started to fade," he said as he squeezed her hand.

"Here we are, the Valyrian Smithy, where I work most when I can," he said, knocking on the door, where two oathguards were waiting for them.

"Who are those men, Aemon?"

"They are oathguards, similar to the Kingsguard but loyal to me and what we do here. So no one can discover the secret we have here," he said in a serious tone.

"My prince, welcome back, and Princess Lyanna, it is an honor to meet you finally. I'm Maester Dussard," Dussard said and bowed as they walked in. "It seems you have earned my son's trust, so you shall have mine. But betray us, and you will wish you had never been born," she said, and Dussard gulped.

"Easy, Mother. Dussard has been a loyal man ever since he was tested, a man of knowledge and learning, something the maesters in the Citadel should strive for. Also, a true Northerner, and he has sworn oaths as all the rest have," he said, giving the man a reassuring smile.

"True, your son has been something that this world and the maesters needed for some time. Bravery in the pursuit of knowledge. We have been discussing how to decrease the Citadel's hold on the knowledge and ravenry of the realm. We have already started building plans for a new Citadel to be built here. Although the city and the keep are our first priorities," Dussard said with a smile.

"The building itself looks wonderful. The structure looks both Valyrian and Westerosi, a wonderful combination," his mother said as she looked at the dome of the building.

"I worked hard on the design, and the stonemasons and dragons have been hard at work producing the black stone you see. But this is where the greatest pride of this building lies," he said as he led her to the Valyrian Armory.

"Aemon, you didn't say you already had all of this," she said in awe as they walked into the room. The Armory was already half-filled with Valyrian steel armor and weapons, including spears, axes, maces, and swords. There was also jewelry made of Valyrian steel and dragonglass imported from Skagos and Dragonstone.

"Yes, I have been busy. This building, the masonry, the dragon caves, and the treasury are the most valuable assets of this place and lordship. But the treasury is gold, and what is gold compared to the knowledge of Valyria?" he said proudly. He had worked with everyone in Sea Dragon Point and Balerion to make this work.

"This is my first work," he said as he held out a shortsword to his mother.

"Amazing work, son. No burns to yourself? The blade has a red glow to it. And the handle—I remember you making it in Winterfell. A wolf and a dragon head, a perfect blend," she said as she marveled at the blade.

"Well, it's your sword, Mother, if you would have it. It still needs a name; all the best swords have names, you know," he said, smirking. Her reaction was one of shock, and it reminded him for a second of a time long ago when he had told Arya those exact same words. Then he realized why his uncle always looked at Lyanna; it was because Aunt Lyanna was now his mother.

"Snowfire, a mix as well. I am a wolf of winter but also the bride of fire," she said and embraced him. She kissed his brow, and his heart would never have enough of the motherly love his mother showed him.

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