46 My Name is Aemon Targaryen

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"The Only Thing We're Allowed To Do Is Believe That We Won't Regret The Choice We Made." - Levi Ackermen.

"You look so much like your father, Aemon," Rhaella said with a little laugh, stroking his cheek. She felt good calling him that.

Jon felt strange to be called Aemon. His entire life, he had been called 'Jon.' He wondered if he would ever get used to it. Perhaps never.

"What now?" Jon finally asked, looking at his grandmother.

Rhaella took a deep breath; now, it was confirmed that Jon Snow was always her grandson, Prince Aemon of House Targaryen. And that Lord Stark had committed high treason, her first instinct was to have the heads of both Lord Stark and Lady Stark.

Eddard Stark for committing treason and stealing her grandson away, and Lady Stark for treating her grandson like filth. While looking at him now, Rhaella could see he looked healthy. His clothes weren't cheap and could easily keep him warm. Her purple eyes quickly found a small scar just above his left eyebrow; she wondered who had dared to cause it. If they were alive, they would feel her wrath.

"Don't worry, Aemon. I will take care of it. You won't have to live as a bastard a minute longer. I'm sure you would like to meet the rest of your family?" She asked softly, stroking his cheek, but how her grandson shook his head took her a little by surprise, and he moved his head away from her hand.

"Not yet," Aemon answered with a downcast look, but Rhaella could see a hint of fear in his eyes. Is he afraid of us?

Rhaella knew that perhaps finding out who he had assumed to be his father wasn't his father and turning out to be the man who stole him and now going from bastard to a prince was perhaps overwhelming, but she wanted him to know that he had no reason to fear them. They were his family.

"Aemon, Everyone would be happy to meet you, your brother Aegon. Your Aunt Daenerys, your father, your sister Rhaenys." Rhaella noticed his hand twitch when she mentioned Rhaenys's name. She wondered why.

"Not yet," Jon said, shaking his head again.

"Why not? Your father will welcome you with open arms-" "Not Yet," Aemon interrupted with a higher tone. His voice was clearly heard outside.

Knock, Barristan peeked his head inside, his eyes instantly at the Queen, his hand holding the pommel of his sword.

"Your grace?"

"Everything is alright, Ser Barristan. Go back to your post." Rhaella dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Barristan gave her another look before closing the door.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, your grace." Aemon apologized right away, looking down at his hands lying on top of the table, almost in shame.

"Don't worry, Aemon, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to force you. I will give you more time. I will give you as long as you wish. The tourney will last a month. We still have time." Rhaella spoke sweetly to him, her hand grasping his. After a minute, it seemed the situation was back to normal; Rhaella decided to do something else to make him feel better in her presence.

"Aemon, I would like to hear about you," Rhaella said with her grandmotherly tone, walking back to her seat and cutting a piece of cake for him before filling another cup of tea.

Jon found himself smiling like a fool whenever she spoke like that, and he couldn't explain why, but her tone made him feel warm and safe and reminded him of his own mother's voice from his dreams. Her voice could always make him feel like this, Safe and Loved.

"I-I don't even know where to start. There's nothing really much to tell." Jon said, looking at the cake lying on the plate; grabbing the fork, he ate a small part. Jon felt the cake almost melting in his mouth. The flavor was strong and sweet, yet, it didn't taste as good as the pie back at Winterfell.

"I doubt that, Aemon. Two of your friends are a Direwolf and an Eagle of The North, two magnificent creatures that some people say are creatures of magic." Rhaella said teasingly, taking a sip of her tea. She had mixed the tea with honey; she watched Aemon closely; he looked so much like Rhaegar. In a way, she felt as if she was talking with her son rather than Aemon.

Jon pondered on her words; sometimes, Kessa and Ghost did things they somehow knew how to do. He knew they could feel his feelings; they knew when he was in danger. Kessa was always in the skies watching over him.

As long as Kessa and Ghost watch over me, I won't have to fear anything, Jon thought before remembering something.

Crows are Liars

"How do you know my name, Y-your Grace?" Jon questioned, stumbling on his words, not knowing whether to call her by her title or name. Rhaella smiles softly, her hand grasping his free hand lying on the table.

"Call me, Grandmother, Aemon. You're family. I don't want you to call me anything else." Rhaella spoke, her voice like silk. In a way, Jon felt like he was a little boy.

Jon found himself smiling again, feeling his eyes burning; his hand grasped her hand as if afraid that all of this was a beautiful dream that he would wake up from.

"G-grandmother, how do you know my name?" Jon asked, smiling, knowing only Lord Stark and Bloodraven knew his real name.

"When your father arrived back at King's Landing before the battle of the Trident, he told me that you would be a girl and that he would name you Visenya," Rhaella answered, earning a chuckle from her grandson.

"Your mother decided that your name would be Aemon if you were a boy," Rhaella explained, still holding his left hand, she could feel from the skin of his hands that he was a warrior, but his hands felt soft to Rhaella, and warm.

Hearing that his mother had named him brought a sad smile to Jon's face. A tear rolled from his cheeks, and he felt his heart warming.

"So, is there any story you can tell me? We have enough time to talk. I want to know more about my grandson." Rhaella requested sweetly; Jon felt good knowing his grandmother wanted to know about him.

So, Jon told her about his early life in Winterfell, excluding many unpleasant details; Jon made sure to mention Arya as often as possible.

Rhaella realized that Arya Stark was his favorite cousin, but she noted that he kept calling them siblings despite knowing the truth for some time now, two weeks perhaps.

Jon then brought up him going beyond the wall. Just from her face, the prince could tell that his grandmother wasn't pleased with him going there alone, but she didn't say anything, something Jon appreciated.

Jon mentioned that he had spoken with his great uncle Aemon Targaryen. Saying his name brought a sad smile to Rhaella's face, and her grip around the teacup tightened slightly.

"Grandmother?"

Aemon's voice made Rhaella blink. She realized that she had allowed herself to get lost in thought. "Nothing, my grandson. Two years after your father became King, he sent a letter to Maester Aemon, offering him to come back to King's Landing, but he refused, writing back, 'I appreciate your offer, grandson. But I must refuse it. I have a purpose here, and I will stay here until it is fulfilled.'" Rhaella explained, moving the cup of tea around her elegant hand, her eyes looking at the center of the cup.

Jon didn't know what to say to that. He believed his purpose had been to stay there to give me Darksister but is there something else? Jon thought before shifting the discussion to something he knew he needed to mention sooner or later.

Jon then told her how he had passed the wall before bringing up his confrontation with the Wildlings, but he called them Free Folk.

Jon was tempted to bring up the Ice Spider and The White Walker, but he didn't want to sour her mood right now. He would tell everyone, and eventually, everyone needed to know about the true enemy. They were marching South; sooner or later, The Wall would fall.

Jon told her how he had joined the Free Folk. He explained how they lived and many other things that came to his mind.

Rhaella could tell from his words and voice that her grandson felt for The Wildlings; she also noted how often he brought up a Wildling named Val; whenever he mentioned going anywhere or spending time with someone, he brought up her name multiple times, and from the way his face smiled, reminded Rhaella of Rhaegar whenever he talked about Lyanna before the Battle of The Trident.

His eyes looked as if they were sparking, and seeing that was more than enough for Rhaella to see that this Val wasn't just a friend. And with what Aemon said next, Rhaella understood just how much Val mattered to Aemon.

"A month ago, Me and Val married following the customs of The Wildling." Jon finished, feeling a pang in his throat after he said that.

His eyes studying his grandmother's face, sadly, he couldn't tell if she looked pleased or not, but it didn't really matter to Jon, he wouldn't allow anyone to tell him what to do anymore, he knew he held power, he wouldn't let Val go just because his real family told him so.

Rhaella, on the other hand, felt like laughing at the irony and how the Valyrian gods loved to screw with them. Her son fell in love with a Stark, and her grandson had fallen for a Wildling woman. What's next, falling in love with a White Walker? Rhaella thought, not knowing whether to laugh or be serious.

She could tell from his voice and eyes that this wasn't just pure lust. She had lived long enough to tell the difference. She knew her grandson felt for the wildling woman. That was genuine.

Rhaella was happy for him. Love was something that rarely happened, but she knew once the truth was out there, Val's identity would be revealed, and to have a Wildling married to a prince of the realm was something that had never happened before. She doubted even Rhaegar would be okay with this. The worst part was the rumors about them, The Majority of the South thought The Northern people were savages, but for those North of the wall, they were called Animals, even below animals.

Rhaella wondered why nameless hadn't reported to her about this 'Val.' Perhaps he didn't think of her as someone important. She thought, but couldn't help but find it a bit odd.

After a minute of silence between them, Rhaella cleared her throat; she could see Aemon looking at her with expectations, hoping that she would not say something against it.

Rhaella normally would have asked if they had consummated their marriage, but from his words, it had been a month, she knew they had done it, and perhaps Val was already carrying a child in her belly.

"What is my good daughter like?" Rhaella asked instead with a soft smile before taking a sip of tea from her cup.

"She is a- A Warrior. She has a good heart and determination. She knows how to hunt-" Jon told her of Val, how long they had known each other, and other things. He told her of their hunts together and how they supported each other.

Jon held his tongue to talk about the one time he had been against Val. It happened two years ago when Ygritte brought up the topic of sick babies.

"In the true North, we don't let them suffer. Is much better to spare them." Val said with a blank look.

"What if it was one of your children, Val? What would you do?" Jon couldn't help but ask. He couldn't fathom it killing an innocent baby. He understood the harsh reality of North of The Wall, but killing a child wasn't something he could ever accept.

Val's face suddenly turned pale. She clenched her jaw. The memory of her sister's children flashed in her eyes, her cries of pain and despair. She opened her mouth to speak, but only choking sounds came out. Her eyes turned red with tears. She rode away from him.

Val had avoided him for a month after that day, but Val's sister Dalla had told him that Val had problems sleeping, saying she had heard noises she couldn't understand coming from Val's tent.

Jon also told his grandmother that Val had come along with him South of The Wall.

But Rhaella wondered if there was some hidden motive here. Still, from Aemon's story, Rhaella knew it wasn't possible for any of the wildlings to know of Aemon's true identity before he returned to Winterfell and Lord Stark told him directly.

From his explanation, this Val sounded like quite a woman, reminding Rhaella of how Rhaegar used to describe Lyanna Stark.

A Warrior Woman with a free spirit, a good heart, and honest words.

But Rhaella knew nothing was so black and white. She wanted to have a meeting with this girl and to measure her, to see if she indeed was worthy of being Aemon's bride, but even if she was, Rhaella knew that wouldn't get rid of her status.

Rhaella knew one way of fixing this, but she didn't want to go that route. She would never do something to hurt her grandson, she knew it would be difficult, but she hoped her grandson could keep this marriage intact. The high Septon could bring up that the Prince was married under the old gods and not the Seven, the faith that was followed everywhere except the North.

But Rhaella knew Aemon would never agree to this. Why would he? He had lived on his own his whole life. She knew he would run away the moment they did something against his will, like forcing him to leave Val. Her grandson didn't know them yet. She knew if they tried to take Val away, he would choose her over them, they were family, but he didn't really know any of them. To him, they were just people he shared blood with, nothing else.

Rhaella could almost see how everyone else would react to the existence of Aemon and Val. She could almost see it. All of them would be speechless except Viserys. He would probably just laugh. A part of her wanted to meet Val right away, but that could wait for tomorrow. Now, she needed to discuss something else.

KNOCK. The door opened before she could say anything, much to her annoyance, glaring at Ser Barristan for entering without permission.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, your grace, but it has been three hours, and The King is requesting your presence in his chambers," Barristan said apologetically. His eyes briefly flickered at Aemon, who was avoiding him; Barristan's eyes widened slightly to see Queen Rhaella's hand on top of the boy's hand. Seven hells! Barristan cursed under his breath.

Rhaella was taken aback hearing that she had been talking with her grandson for three hours, she wanted to tell Barristan that her son could keep waiting, but Aemon stood up, looking at her with a sad smile.

"I think it is my time to leave, your grace. Thank you for inviting me. I appreciate everything." Jon said, bringing her hand too close to his lips and kissing her knuckles.

"I'm coming, Barristan. You don't need to keep the door open." Rhaella ordered Barristan with clear annoyance, and the old knight closed the door.

Rhaella turned her attention back to her grandson before hugging him close the moment the door closed, and so did Jon.

"What will we do about Lord Stark? How can we avoid a War?" Jon asked. He wanted justice for what happened to him, but Jon knew there were two major things he needed to think of before making a decision.

First, The North declaring war would result in thousands of casualties, and Jon knew War was the last thing they needed knowing the White Walkers were out there. They needed the might of all Seven Kingdoms to survive the Long Night.

But you have a Dragon, a voice spoke next to his ear. Jon knew he could use Aegarax to show his strength. They wouldn't dare to do anything, knowing they would burn if they rebelled. Jon didn't know how large Balerion had been. It was said that his teeth were as long as swords, and his jaws were large enough to swallow an aurochs whole or even one of the hairy mammoths that are said to roam the cold wastes beyond the Port of Ibben. Jon knew Aegarax was almost as large as him, probably the same size; his scales were tougher than any arrow or bolt could penetrate.

The Wildlings, Jon reminded himself, knowing The North would never accept them in their lands, they were thousands of Wildlings beyond the Wall, and the dispute between The Wildlings and The Northern Houses had started thousands of years. The Northern houses would never shelter them, especially after executing their Liege Lord on top of that, even if The Gift belonged to The Night's Watch.

"I will bring the Free Folk south of the wall. Your people won't have to suffer anymore."

Those had been his words to Mance and Val. He had promised them freedom. Just bringing the Wildlings is already hard enough, but doing so after executing Lord Stark, The North would rebel. They wouldn't care if The Royal Family had a Dragon. Their pride would get them all killed.

His grandmother kissing his cheek made him escape his dark thoughts. "Don't worry about Lord Stark, grandson. I will know what to do. I won't let him get away with what he did to you." She promised to his ear; Jon simply kissed her cheek before stepping back.

"I would enjoy another meeting with you, but can you bring my good daughter along? I want to meet her," Rhaella requested; Jon nodded. He just hoped it would go well between them.

After leaving her chambers, Jon felt the old knight's eyes on his back as he walked away, but he ignored him for now. His whole focus now was on the future.

Should I have his head? He betrayed me. He betrayed mother. He's a Traitor, Jon thought with anger. Every step felt heavier to him.

Cursed is the Kinslayer, a voice spoke in the wind; Jon looked around but couldn't see anyone nearby.

Jon found himself walking faster; he needed time to think. He needed to be alone.

Rhaella Targaryen

After her grandson left, she felt both happy and terrible. She had wished to introduce him to Rhaegar, but she would respect his wishes to give him time to think, and she needed to think about Lord Stark.

Just the thought filled her with fury. Like an awakening dragon, she wanted nothing more than to have his and Lady Stark's head, even if Lady Stark was out of her grasp. If Lady Stark hadn't known the truth, Rhaella couldn't really accuse her of hiding the truth, but in the end, it would be Rhaegar, the one who decides the punishment Lord Stark would receive.

Opening the door, Barristan looked at her strangely, he tried to hide it, but she could tell he was curious about what she was doing, but he was a Kingsguard, and he wouldn't ask personal questions.

"Ser Barristan, from now on, if there are any problems that involve Jon Snow. I want you to inform me immediately if I'm not around and stop anyone from causing him harm." Rhaella ordered. She knew she was making this quite obvious that something was happening, but she didn't care. In everyone's eyes, her grandson was still a bastard, and Barristan was a loyal Kingsguard and friend. She knew she could trust him with almost everything. She wouldn't allow anyone to cause him any harm, but she knew Aemon had two great companions to protect him, even if he lacked a Kingsguard, and from the way he fought Ser Jaime, she knew Jon could take care of himself.

Hearing the order, Barristan wanted to ask what was happening between her and the young man but knew she wouldn't answer.

"As you wish your grace."

Soon she reached her son's chamber; walking inside, she wasn't surprised to see Elia, a goblet of wine in her hand.

Hearing the door open, her son looked up at her from where he was sitting. "Good Morning, mother," Rhaegar said, smiling, standing up, and kissing her cheeks.

"Good morning, Rhaegar." She said, smiling, kissing his cheek. After pouring a goblet of wine for herself, she sat down, her eyes looking at Rhaegar.

"What took you so long, mother?" Rhaegar questioned, a hand going through his silver hair.

"I had an important meeting with my informer. Did you know that House Tyrell will make a new deal after the Tourney, and they want Willas Tyrell in the small council after the marriage between Aegon and Margaery?" Rhaella spoke with a stern look. Her eyes settled on her son, who let out a sigh.

Rhaegar frowned. They weren't exactly being subtle about it; Willas inviting Rhaenys to walk her to the feast made it obvious. Their son Loras would become a Kingsguard, and Margaery would become a Queen.

"I know, but Rhaenys needs to find a good husband..."

Rhaella stayed, discussing the minor problems, but during the whole conversation, all she could think of was her grandson. She wondered what was going through his head.

After the discussion, Rhaegar brought up something that had been on her mind for some time.

"I have gotten more reports, but from the West. A farmer apparently had every sheep eaten by a large black dragon and burned one of his children." Rhaegar informed her, making Elia purse her lips into a fine line.

"Black Dragon? I thought the reports said the dragon was White?" Rhaella questioned him with a furrowed brow.

"Perhaps it is the same dragon, but it was during the night. At first, I thought it was just drunk people, but I highly doubt all these reports were from drunken fools daydreaming." Rhaegar said with a shrug.

Rhaella wasn't sure what to think on this topic. If there was a Dragon out there, still alive, House Targaryen could return to its strength before The Dance of The Dragons. If the dragon could lay eggs, they would secure their place for hundreds of years.

"I will order my informer to take a look at this. Mayhaps are just rumors, but it costs little to look more deeply into this." Rhaella said after a short pause; Elia and Rhaegar nodded along.

Rhaella wondered which dragon could be. The only dragon that survived the Dance was Sheepstealer; if it were him, it would make him older than Balerion when he died.

Silverwing, who had survived the Dance and became a Wild Dragon.

Or it could be Cannibal! Rhaella shuddered at the thought of him. That dragon was responsible for eating many dragons and even attacking large ones. That dragon being alive could be both a miracle and a curse.

Jon

After the meeting with his grandmother, he found himself alone in the woods near Harrenhal; he needed to be away from everyone.

He knew this would come the moment he revealed himself. Lord Stark, Jon thought with anger; he could still remember the cold nights, the glares, the words, the insults, everything; whenever he tried to think of Arya, his mind would quickly be occupied by what he had missed for so many years.

So many memories, Jon thought, all the love and all the memories that never happened. His real brother was a man now. He wouldn't have the memories nor the bond.

Rhaenys! Jon felt his eyes burning; his sister had grown beautiful, a woman that could take the breath out of anyone, including mine, Jon thought with a little smile. The dreams, he couldn't remember all of them, they were clouded, but he remembered her face; he had dreamed of her so often, he wondered if his sister had dreamed of him. Why though? Jon thought he had never seen Rhaenys before. How could he know what she looked like in his dreams before seeing her?

Jon took a deep breath. He would never allow Lord Stark to walk freely. He knew that would hurt Arya, his sister. It would hurt all of his siblings.

"Why are you afraid?" Aegarax asked.

"Why would I be afraid? I'm not a kid anymore who hides away," Jon spoke, resting his chin on his hands.

"Why are you afraid then? You fear that you might lose your freedom. You need time to think. Why? So Arya could be happy for a few more days before her family is destroyed forever? Do you fear that you won't keep your promise to Val? Do you fear Arya hating you? Do you fear Robb declaring War after Lord Stark is executed? You fear what might happen. We all do. Remember that Lord Stark was the one who stole you. And you have the right to want revenge for what he did. For your childhood being how it was. For never knowing your real family. But always remember, make the decisions that you think you will regret the least. Life is full of decisions, and many of the decisions will have equally good and bad things." Aegarax spoke with a melancholy look on his face, looking towards North and remembering a time long ago.

Jon thought of his words. He felt better after hearing him. My whole life, I desired recognition and love. Jon thought, standing up on his legs. Val loved him, and he knew so did his grandmother and many from his Stark family. He had wanted a name, not to be a bastard any longer, but I never was. Jon, that's not my name. It never was. My name is Aemon Targaryen, the child of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, but a part of me will always be Jon, he thought. His footsteps suddenly felt lighter. He felt relief.

With a look of pride and conviction on his face. Aemon decided to return to his chamber.

"Thank you, Aegarax, for helping me." Aemon thought. His right eye turned rich purple like Aegarax before quickly turning back to grey.

"Speak naught of it. You freed me." You remind me of my previous rider.

Tomorrow - Morning

Aemon and Val were walking toward Queen Rhaella's chambers. It was still too early in the morning, a man sent by his grandmother had allowed them to enter, and now they were almost there.

When Aemon had told Val that he had met his grandmother, she had commented that he looked happier than usual, but when Aemon told her that Queen Rhaella wanted to meet her.

"I only caught a glimpse of her, but her eyes were sharp. It reminds me of Mance."

It had taken Jon ordering Ghost away for him to leave Val's side, and the prince hoped Val's stomach wasn't hurting anymore.

This morning when he woke up, he caught Val vomiting in a bucket. When Aemon asked her if he should call the maester, Val told him it must be the food from last night.

Now, Ser Barristan opened the door for them after checking for weapons. When he noticed her hidden dagger, Val had wanted to keep it, but Aemon didn't want them to fight each other with words or swords.

He removed her knife before she could say anything. Val glared at him for doing so. She never wanted to go anywhere without a blade. She felt naked without one.

Once they entered, Aemon found his grandmother sitting in front of a table filled to the brim with multiple dishes.

Once he closed the door behind him, his grandmother stood with a broad smile. Walking over to them, she spread her arms around. Aemon kissed her cheek as she asked how he was.

"I'm fine, grandmother," Aemon answered before bringing Val closer to her.

"This is my wife, Val, of the Free Folk." Aemon introduced her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Rhaella," Val said with curtsy, something The Queen returned with a smile.

"Indeed, Val."

Who do you think is the black dragon? Why is Jon reminding Aegarax of his previous owner? What will Ned's punishment be? The Head or The Wall?