Aemon Targaryen (107 A.C. Second Moon)
Driftmark – High Tide
The yard at High Tide smelled of salt and sun-warmed stone, with the sharp tang of oil lingering where practice blades were kept. The morning was clear, the sea beyond the walls a sheet of glittering blue, and the wind came in steady gusts that tugged at cloaks and hair alike. Aemon welcomed it. It cooled the heat already gathering beneath his collar.
Bennard, his loyal squire and page, gave him two blades. "Thank you, Bennard."
He tested the weight of his swords, one in each hand, the leather wrapped hilts familiar as his own palms. Dual blades always drew eyes. It was not the way most knights fought, not the way most men were taught, and that alone made some assume it was for show. Aemon had learned long ago that what looked like a flourish could be a function, if the hands were steady enough and the mind sharper still.
Across the sanded yard stood Ser Harrold in the white gambeson, practice sword and shield in his hand.
"Ready, my Prince," Harrold asked, a smile on his face.
Aemon drew in a slow breath and let it out. "Of course, Old Man,"
That got a small chuckle across the yard. "Well, my youngling, let's see if the young can beat the old." Harrold retorted as he raised his shield and sword. Aemon raised both his.
They began.
Harrold came in first, as he usually did, a measured strike meant to test timing. Aemon turned it aside with his left hand and answered with his right, a quick cut aimed not to land, but to force Harrold's guard higher than he wanted it. The Kingsguard adjusted at once, blade sliding into place, feet shifting in a smooth half step that kept his balance perfect.
Aemon pressed again, twin blades moving in a pattern that looked chaotic to the untrained eye. It was not. One sword occupied the line, the other hunted. He did not waste effort battering at Harrold's defense. He made Harrold choose. High or low. Left or right. Parry or retreat.
Harrold tried to take the space instead, stepping forward with the strength that had ended more fights than elegance ever could. Aemon gave ground only enough to deny him purchase, then turned his hips, slipped to the side, and took the angle that stole Harrold's reach. Sand shifted beneath their boots. Steel rang. The sound echoed off the stone and carried out over the sea.
Aemon became aware of movement beyond the yard, the faintest ripple at the edge of his sight. He did not look away, not fully, but he registered it all the same.
On the far side, near the railing that overlooked the water, Laenor Velaryon had joined the morning air. He also wore a light blue gambeson. Laenor, his mother, Harrold, and Arya were people he trusted the most, and they had become very close when they traveled North together.
Not far from him stood Princess Rhaenys. His future Goodmother and cousin, he didn't know her well. They had spoken now, and it had expanded their relationship, but mostly. It was still distant, but Rhaenys knew he cared for them, and Laena.
Vaemond Velaryon was there as well; he had been hanging around ever since he arrived on Driftmark. Yet it made some sense, Vaemond was Corlys's nephew, yet third in line of succession. So perhaps the man hoped for a chance to gain land in his services. To be honest, he didn't mind the idea even though the man was perhaps too arrogant. Yet, having a good naval commander under his own command. Instead of relying on Corlys, he had Wylard, yet he was his castellan in Seadragon Point. So sending him out onto the sea wasn't truly worth it. Beside him stood his young sons, standing with him. Their eyes were trained on the movement of his blade.
At that moment, Harrold's blade snapped forward, attempting to catch Aemon's right hand as it shifted. Aemon rolled his wrist, let the strike slide past, then brought his left blade up in a swift check that knocked Harrold's sword wide. The opening was there.
Aemon struck forward, yet in the last second, Harrold's shield slotted into place. His blade smacked against it. Harrold's eyes flicked, and a smile graced his lips.
They circled.
Aemon's breath remained steady. He made Harrold move, drew him into turning, and forced him to reset his footing. Each time Harrold tried to slow the rhythm, Aemon changed it. Faster. Slower. A pause, then a sudden flurry that made the watchers shift and murmur. He felt the burn in his forearms and welcomed it. It was part of living.
At the edge of the yard, two figures stood close together.
Laena's hair caught the light, silver shining bright, her posture straight, attention intent. Aemon did not need to see her face clearly to know she was watching him. He felt it. He had felt it often enough in these weeks, in halls and gardens, and stealing the occasional quick kiss from him, something he had done as well. Yet there were moments when his blood was up, that he wished for more. To take her as a dragon mounted his mate.
Beside her stood his sister. Visenya had asked to be allowed to stay on Driftmark until his nameday had passed, and their brother had granted the request. He had enjoyed her presence, even though he noticed some odd looks Laena and Visenya shared. Looks he shared with Laena, and he wondered why that was.
It made him think of his own history, of the rumors that Rhaenyra and Laena had been lovers. That them together, with Daemon, Laenor, and Harwin strong had been quite close. Yet he shook his head; he doubted it would have happened now, yet drink could make someone bold. A night of drinking on the ship had taken him to walk to Daenerys's cabin. Perhaps he would still have done it eventually, but the drink had pushed him to do it earlier. Yet until he saw or was told of something, it was only in his head.
And yet, when Harrold's sword drove him back a pace, and Aemon turned, he caught sight of Visenya's hand taking Laena's.
His focus sharpened with a sudden, quiet intensity.
Harrold attacked again, perhaps sensing the faintest change in him. The Kingsguard's strike was clean and direct, the sort that punished distraction. Aemon met it without hesitation, blades crossing to trap Harrold's sword for a heartbeat. He broke the bind and stepped inside, not with force, but with timing, taking the space before Harrold could reclaim it.
Steel rang loud.
Aemon's right blade snapped toward Harrold's shoulder. Harrold raised his guard. Aemon's left blade came in low, sliding beneath, checking Harrold's wrist. The older knight's grip tightened. Aemon felt the resistance and used it, turning his left hand just enough to pull Harrold's sword off line while his right came around again, the point stopping a hair from Harrold's throat.
"Yield ser?" He asked. Harrold lowered his blade. "I yield,
Around the yard was applause. "A good fight, my prince; however, you aren't as effective with two blades as you are with a greatsword, bastardsword, or shield and blade. If you had a greatsword, you likely would have broken through my guard earlier."
Aemon smiled at his mentor's words as Bennard came to them and gifted them both a sack of water. "Thank you, lad." Harrold smiled and looked fondly at the boy. "He will be a good squire for you. He has proven that so far. I myself will need a new one soon enough." Harrold noted.
"That you do, perhaps one of the Vaemond's boys. As you know, Laenor will also become my squire after the wedding." He noted with a grin. "It will keep them grateful, and Vaemond in line. Plus knowing something of their father, perhaps tempering their arogonace isn't too bad."
Harrold nodded as Laenor walked toward them. Holding a sword and shield. "Laenor," Aemon said as he took a drink of the water. "Can I spar with you next, Aemon?"
"Of course, no problem." Aemon smiled as he gave the water sack back to Harrold as he stepped away. Aemon took his stand once more, "Ready,"
Laenor smiled and charged at him.
After the training session, Aemon walked toward his chambers. He sent Bennard to order a bath, to be prepared. Yet wanting to do something with Laena during midday. He walked to her chambers first. Yet as he arrived, he noticed there weren't guards around, which he found odd. Yet then he heard something he had not expected.
"Yes, Neya," a moan came from the door. He raised a I borrow. Instead of knocking as he usually would have done, he opened the door, and on the bed was something he had not expected to see.
His little sister was on the bed, with her head between the legs of Laena. Licking her cunt. Both are only in their undercammerts. He could say the sight did not arouse him, but he felt a sharp sense of betrayal all the same. He had not slept with a woman in the North; he had not slept with a woman since he had slept with Daenerys. Yet here he stood, seeing his betrothed with his own sister, and he wondered how long this had been going on. All the observations he had made were correct. Something had been happening between them.
"Yes, oh fuck, Aemon," came Laena's voice, her eyes closed, her thoughts consumed by pleasure, utterly unaware of him. Does she think of me? While this happens.
Aemon took a deep breath and closed the door, grinding his teeth at the fact that they had not locked it. Fools. Had the wrong person found them like this, both of them would have been ruined.
As the door closed, Aemon locked it, and the sound finally drew their attention. Both girls screamed, and Visenya quickly moved beside Laena, both of them red-faced from embarrassment or exertion.
"Aemon," she said quickly, "this isn't what it looks like."
"Well, I suppose that considering I am seeing my betrothed engaged in a sexual act with my younger sister must be something I am imagining," Aemon stated, his voice filled with fury. He could not say he had not contemplated sleeping with Alicent Hightower, yet that was for an entirely different reason than what stood before him.
There was one question it hurt him to ask, yet he needed to. If she had, could he trust her? He could not face the same doubts about his children's legitimacy that had plagued Rhaenyra.
"Laena, tell me honestly," he asked, his voice trembling with anger. "Is Visenya the only one? Tell me that this is the case."
"No," Laena said, guilt plain on her face.
He closed his eyes. Sleeping with another woman, he could accept, as it would not make him fear the future, but sleeping with another man was different.
"Who?" he demanded. "I may kill him for the act. I am a prince of the realm, and I will not be made a fool of."
In the back of his mind, he could feel Balerion and Ghost, both his companions, reacting to his anger, and he heard Balerion's distant roar.
Laena looked shocked for a moment, then spoke quickly. "No, I have not taken a man to bed. Only women."
"It's true, brother," Visenya added hastily. "She hasn't. It has only been me and Rhaenyra. Although Alicent kissed us as well."
Aemon sighed deeply, turned around, unlocked the door, and slammed it shut behind him. He heard words being called after him, yet he let them slide off him like snow.
Instead of going to his chambers as planned, he walked through the family wing. At the doors stood Ser Jeffery, who had taken over Harrold's guarding duties. Seeing Aemon's distress, Jeffery followed him as he walked toward the dragon caves, and as if expecting his arrival, Balerion came walking out.
"I felt your anger. What happened?" Balerion asked.
"Let us first take to the sky," Aemon said as Balerion lowered his wing. "Ser Jeffery, I will be flying. When I return, I do not know."
The knight looked at him unsurely, but nodded. "As you say, my prince."
After saddling himself in, he took to the sky.
"Why?" Aemon said. "I do not understand it. I knew of the rumors of Laena and Rhaenyra; the books speculated on that quite well. Yet I do not understand why it happened now. The only difference is that Visenya is there. Apparently, all three, or four, have been acting this way."
Balerion rumbled before replying. "It opens the door for you. Apparently, they are all quite close. Especially if Queen Aemma still passes away, you can enact your plan. You wanted to make sure Alicent stays loyal. Now you can. Make her your mate, and your other mate might be understanding, considering what has been done with your sister. Unless there is more."
Aemon chuckled softly. Mate, what a strange word to use. Then he sighed. "That is not it. It was an option, nothing more. I never truly considered it, unless certain events took place. Preventing Aemma's death is one of them, so I didn't have to. Why else do you think I am trying to make sure Viserys stops getting her with child, or sending the scribtors to her? I do not want her to die. Losing a mother is not something I wish on anyone. It also prevents Viserys from remarrying."
"Yet now I know my own sister, niece, and betrothed have been sleeping together. Not just sleeping in the same bed, which is quite normal for highborn girls, but bedding each other. I know I have slept with other women, but that was in another life, more than sixteen years ago."
Balerion puffed smoke. "The way I see it, it is a dragon thing. Dragons can be pairs, like Vermithor and Silverwing, or more like me, where I have several mates, such as Dreamfyre, Meraxes, Vhagar, and even Syrax, becoming an option now that she is growing. Or like what Dreamfyre did, breeding alone, although those eggs most times either turn to stone or are nearly identical to their layer."
Hm. It was something Balerion had told him before, when he was writing a book on dragonlore. One copy lay sealed with a blood lock at Seadragon Point, another locked in a chest with a blood seal in his chamber on Driftmark.
"Well, that is not how it works with us men, as you know," Aemon said. "It is different. One does not sleep with others after they are wed. At least that's not expected."
"Strange," Balerion replied. "Why only mate with one if more offspring is a good thing? Especially with so few true Targaryens. Although many on Driftmark, King's Landing, and Dragonstone share your blood, I can smell it."
Aemon sighed. Balerion was clever in many ways, yet in some matters, dragons and humans were very different.
"I suppose that is true," Aemon said. "And to be honest, I never looked at it that way. I loved Daenerys up to the point she rejected me. I did not care that she was my aunt. I cared more that she cared for the throne more than for the fact that we were kin."
He sighed. It had been true. He had not cared. Just as Lord Stark's parents had been cousins, and in his own sire's line there had been brother and sister marriages. It was the dragon's way. As for the madness of House Targaryen, he did not believe in it. There had been tyrants, madmen, cruel and lustful Targaryens, but the same could be said for every house in Westeros. The Valyrian Empire had survived for thousands of years by intermarrying, so no, he did not care if he loved or lusted after his own kin. It was in his blood, and he did not deny it.
What he did care about was the betrayal of the act. Seeing them together hurt. He could have slept with a woman in the North. He remembered a few feasts where the Lord Glover's daughter had tried, but he had rejected her advances, knowing it would only lead to pain on all sides. He had considered Alicent only because of the options it presented. If Aegon were born and later revealed to be a bastard, no lords would support him. Even Aemond or Daeron would come under question, as would every action Alicent had taken.
"Aemon," Balerion said, "talk to them both. Hear them out. Then decide what you will do. If you do not, you will be consumed by the unknown. Ask why they did it, and what it means for them. I have noticed how they act around you. They behave like mates."
"What do you mean?" Aemon asked. "My sister looks at me like someone she wishes to bed?"
"Indeed," Balerion replied. "I feel it with Vhagar as well. She is drawn to me. Dragons reflect their riders."
Aemon remembered then what Balerion had told him about dragons. They felt emotion and acted accordingly, whether anger, fear, or love. It also explained how easily Rhaegal had accepted him, not only for his dragon's blood, but for the love Daenerys had once felt for him. He also remembered that after he and Daenerys began to drift apart, Drogon and Rhaegal grew more aggressive toward one another. Their riders had affected their behavior.
"All true," Balerion noted.
Even now, Aemon found it strange that Balerion could read his thoughts. It was an odd connection. When Balerion answered questions, it felt like speech, even though it was something deeper than words.
Balerion rumbled softly.
Aemon sighed. "Let us return and speak with my sister and with Laena."
As they neared the dragon caves, he already saw them standing there, and he did not know what to feel when he saw them. He drew in a deep breath.
"Hear them out," Balerion noted.
Aemon ground his teeth as he dismounted.
He looked toward Ser Jeffery. "Ser, did Bennard come and find you by any chance?"
"He did," Jeffery replied. "He had the bath prepared, as you asked, though it is likely cold now."
"Very well. When you see him again, tell him to have the family baths prepared. I am quite in the mood for a long, relaxing one," Aemon stated pointedly, his gaze shifting to Laena and Visenya.
"Sister. Laena," he said curtly. "Shall we speak in my room before I take my bath?"
They both looked at him hesitantly.
"As you wish," his sister said, glancing from him to Laena.
The wolf at her side also watched him warily, as did Ghost beside him. Visenya had given the she-wolf a name, Patch, which fit well enough, considering the black spot around her eye.
The walk was quiet. Aemon still felt angry, but he forced himself to heed Balerion's words. Listen first. Judge after.
"Ser Jeffery," he said, "make sure no one enters the family wing, except for Rhaenys or Laenor."
Jeffery nodded and walked toward the entrance doors.
Aemon entered his chambers, followed by Laena and Visenya. He closed the door and locked it. Crossing to his desk, he picked up a pitcher of Arbor Red and poured himself a cup. He took a swallow before turning to them.
"So," he said, "tell me how and why this happened. I know we Valyrians have our customs, but I did not expect my future wife and my sister to be engaged in this sort of behavior." As that image flashed unbidden through his mind.
Laena looked from Visenya to him and sighed. "The first time anything happened was during Visenya's last nameday celebration. She had just turned twelve."
Aemon's eyes widened. He knew girls matured faster than boys, but still. "You are telling me something began when my sister was twelve?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"What? No!" Visenya said quickly. "We only kissed. It was a kissing game, all four of us." She flushed. "We were all quite drunk and curious, wanting to know what kissing was like, especially after Laena told us you two had kissed."
He had to admit the image was not entirely unpleasant. Still, it did not sit well.
He looked at Laena. "So you told them we kissed?" He had not told anyone himself, though Arya had figured it out, as had his mother. He also knew Laenor suspected something.
"Of course I did," Laena replied. "What you did was romantic. Gifting me a dragon, taking me flying on Balerion, kissing me as we flew across the sea. What girl would not tell that to her friends?"
He sighed and nodded.
"Then when did it go from kissing to… the other thing?" he asked. "Why? Do you know how much trouble you both could be in? Both your honors could be tarnished. I walked in through an unlocked door. What would have happened if it had been someone else?"
Both their heads lowered.
"Well, first it was Rhaenyra and me," Visenya explained carefully, eyes never leaving the floor. "We started exploring more, touching and kissing each other, especially after we both had our first moonblood. About a week after my nameday. We are only two days apart." She then glanced toward Laena.
"As for me," Laena said quietly, "I joined them later. I was curious. They made those strange noises, and I felt something when we kissed. Not much later, we had been together like that for about three moons. Alicent never took part, though she told us she wished to."
"So that was all this was? Curiosity?" Aemon asked.
"Perhaps," Laena said softly, "but also something else."
"What else?" he pressed.
"That I felt lustful," Laena admitted, blushing scarlet. "I enjoyed kissing them and touching them. I also, on occasion, thought of you, and of you doing to me."
Aemon studied her face. She was not lying. The admission was awkward enough with Visenya still in the room.
"I cannot lie," he began. "I also thought of you, from time to time, when…" He stopped himself and glanced at his sister, whose eyes widened.
"Did you sleep with someone?" Laena asked, her voice a mix of hurt and curiosity.
"What? No. I meant," He broke off and looked at Visenya. "I am not sure how appropriate it is to discuss this with you here, sister."
"Well, considering she likes you as more than a brother, what is being discussed hardly matters," Laena said with a smirk.
"Laena!" Visenya exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.
Aemon stared at his sister. "Visenya, is that true?"
Instead of answering, she threw herself into his arms and began to sob. "It is. I have felt this way for a while now. I have had fantasies about it. I was jealous that Laena could marry you. I know father loved our mother, but I also know he loved Alyssa, or how grandfather and grandmother were. It is normal, and I am not the only one."
Aemon looked questioningly at Laena.
"She means Rhaenyra," Laena said. "Though she would never admit it. Alicent also fancies you. I suspect she agreed to only court Daemon to please her father."
"Wouldn't be the first time," He began to speak, then stopped. No. He would not betray another's trust. If Laenor wished to share his own secrets, that would be his choice.
"I should not say more," Aemon said at last. "That is someone else's story."
Both Laena and Visenya looked up at him.
After a moment, his gaze returned to his sister. He had told himself before that Visenya was becoming a beauty, but now… he knew it was not an option. It never could be.
"Visenya," he said gently, "I love you as a sister. I cannot deny that you are becoming beautiful. Our purple princess, with the clearest violet eyes and shining black hair." He kissed her forehead.
"As for all this, I am sorry, but it cannot continue. One day, Laena and I will be married. You will be wed as well, little sister, and you must let this go."
Visenya's eyes filled with tears, and she pulled away. "You could take us both, as the Conqueror did. I have bled. You could marry us both today under Valyrian tradition," she said stubbornly. In that moment, he saw both his mother and Arya in her.
He sighed and smiled sadly. "Dear sister, neither our brother nor Laena's father would agree to it. Nor am I inclined to do so."
Visenya stormed from the room.
Left alone with Laena, Aemon sank into his chair and sighed. "I do not know what to do now. I do not want to lose anyone. I love that girl, but I never looked at her that way. I never considered sleeping with anyone else. What you did, I understand, but I do not like it. You bedded someone else."
Laena took his hands in hers. "I am sorry. I should not have done it. I felt drawn to them both. Yet know this. Since the day we kissed, I have been falling in love with you. I think I do love you. What I shared with them was something else. Something I wish now I had controlled." She kissed his cheek.
"I will think on what you have said," Aemon replied with a sad smile. "But as I said before, it cannot continue."
Laena smiled sadly and nodded. "I hope you can forgive me in time. Now go take that bath, you stink of dragon and sweat."
He laughed as he rose from his seat. "I will. And I will forgive you, in time."
Velaryon Family Baths
The Velaryon family baths were much like the ones he had built at Seadragon Point. Fires burned beneath the stone, heat carried through hidden channels, warming the water until steam curled thickly into the air. The baths could be filled at will, drawn and drained with careful control, and the stone tubs were carved wide and deep enough for true comfort.
They were far finer than the tubs of most castles, though even now Aemon thought the baths of Winterfell felt the most natural of them all. Those baths were part of the earth itself, heat and water together.
The water lapped quietly around him as he leaned back, heat sinking into muscle and bone.
Yet his thoughts refused to settle.
The revelations of the day still sat heavy in his chest. Visenya, apparently, wished to marry him. Rhaenyra and Alicent both harbored feelings as well. It complicated things. It aided his plans, perhaps, if Aemma were to pass, though that remained something he would prevent if he could. Rhaenyra did not deserve to lose her mother, not for politics, not for prophecy, not for anything.
Even if it meant Daemon becoming king.
He would not move openly against his brother. Their relationship had never been simple. Once, before their father died, it had almost been good. Then it had fractured again. Still, Aemon swore he would mend it, even if he had to be the one to cross the bridge alone.
Then a door creaked, and he woke from his musings. He looked toward the entry door. Nothing. Only steam rising from the water.
Then he gaped as he saw the shape in front of him.
In front of him stood his naked sister.
"Sister," he hissed quietly.
"I thought I would come and bring you a visit. You said you did not see me that way, so I came to change your mind," Visenya said softly as she stepped into the bath.
She moved closer, the water rippling faintly.
Aemon ground his teeth and turned his gaze aside, fixing his eyes on the stone opposite him. "Visenya, I do not know how you were allowed in here," he said, his voice tight. "But you need to leave."
Instead of leaving, his sister came closer. Her deep purple eyes gleamed with mischief, the same look she had worn as a child. He knew she would not listen to him.
"Tell me something, brother," she said. "Do you still think of me as only your sister? We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon, yet we are also a pack."
Aemon swallowed as Visenya reached out, placing her hand flat against his chest.
"Does Laena know you are here?" he asked quietly.
Visenya smiled, slow and knowing. "How do you think I got in?"
What could he do if he shouted? Visenya's name would be ruined. Yet he felt deeply uncomfortable. He wondered if this was how his father had felt when his sister lay naked upon his bed, drunk. His eyes never looked down; he could not.
"Do I have such a pretty face that you only stare at my face?" Visenya asked with a smirk as she moved her hand downward.
He stopped her and grabbed her wrist. She gasped and looked at him, disappointment flickering across her face.
"I understand that all of you have had your fun," Aemon said tightly. "Perhaps because you believe there are no consequences, but I will not do this. I understand how you feel, but I do not feel the same way. Nor will I dishonor you, even if we share blood. Accept that, sister."
Visenya stepped back, her eyes filling with pain. "I am not womanly enough?" she asked as she straightened.
Aemon looked away once more. "Sister, you have bled, which is what makes a woman. Yet as I said before, I do not feel the same way. I ask you now to accept it."
He ground his teeth as he spoke.
Then he heard a sob and the splash of water. Aemon sighed as he watched Visenya retreat through another door. He remained there, staring at the steam, hoping he would still find a way to be around his sister after this.
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