2 Chapter 2: King's Landing, capital of the Seven Kingdoms

YEAR 95 AC

King's Landing, capital of the Seven Kingdoms…

A long time ago, when the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros enjoyed several decades of peace and prosperity under the reign of the Old King, Jaehaerys I Targaryen. Having long since ridden themselves of the Faith Militant uprising and enactment of the Doctrine of Exceptionalism, the Targaryen dynasty flourished. But with every joy, there were also great tragedies as well. Three years prior, the Old King's son Prince Aemon died - killed by Myrish pirates on Tarth during the Myrish Bloodbath. Although they were successful in eliminating the invaders, it would not bring Aemon back to life. For days, having lost his best friend, Prince Baelon mourned his brother.

But then came the Second Quarrel between King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne when he controversially chose to name Baelon the new Prince of Dragonstone and heir instead of their granddaughter Princess Rhaenys. Furious that a woman was once again passed over, the Good Queen did not speak to the king for the following two years until they reconciled at the behest of their daughter, Princess Maegelle. The most vocal of such disapproval came from Rhaenys's maternal uncle, Lord Boremund Baratheon, and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon. For them, such an insult would not be forgotten; for others, time would mend most wounds… maybe.

By the ninety-fifth year after Aegon's Conquest, the time for petty internal grudges was put on hold. For on the hour of the first day of the Festival of the Mother came the moment when the first child of Viserys Targaryen and Aemma Arryn would be born. An army of midwives led by Grand Maester Runciter and his assistant Mellos had already gathered into the birthing chamber to begin the delivery, not allowing any unauthorized personnel entry until the birth was complete.

« It's been ninety-five years since Aegon's Conquest, and the exact date of my birth. The screams you hear? Those belonged to my mother, Aemma of House Arryn. Although their marriage was arranged when they were young, both she and my father had developed a mutual bond of love and respect. I guess you could say I grew up lucky to have them as my parents. At least that's what I thought at first too. But time changes people in ways we least expect it… as well as insinuating circumstances we cannot control or avoid. »

Yet, for one Targaryen, as he heard the loud and painful screams emanating from the other side, the suspense was too much for him to bear and he demanded entry.

"Aemma!" Viserys exclaimed with a look of concern on his face.

« And there he is. That's my father. Viserys Targaryen. A plump and pleasant man, yes, I know. Though he was certainly that way since House Targaryen ruled over a time of peace and plenty due in no small part to my great-grandfather. Not that I would blame him for being soft, of course. There were no wars to fight, no conflicts to resolve… As a child, I grew up idolizing my father. I thought he had it all figured out. He was a good man, he loved us and made sure we were given the best of everything.

Yet even good men make mistakes from time to time. »

"AUUUUUU! OOOOOOOOOOH!" Aemma wailed in agony.

For Aemma, who laid on the childbed with her legs spread apart and propped up and bearing down to push again, this discomfort was hurting her terribly. She was in excruciating pain and was drenched with sweat from head to toe. It was her duty to give her husband an heir, of course, but the process of trying to provide one was tedious and difficult for her. Before this pregnancy, she had endured the loss of one child that died in the cradle and had suffered a stillbirth. Although Viserys was comforting Aemma in her grief, she could not help but feel like she had failed twice now. She prayed to the seven Gods that the child she was giving birth to would survive.

"NNNNNNGGGGGGAH!"

"Aemma!" Viserys rushed to her side. "I'm here, Aemma."

"Viserys… ! Help me, please! Please help me! Viserys!"

"Shhh, shhh. It's going to be all right. You're going to be all right, you hear?"

"It hurts! It hurts!"

"You're almost there, princess," Grand Maester Runciter said. Squatting at the edge of the bed looking down close to Aemma's vaginal lips. "You're doing a good job so far. Just keep pushing. We have to get the child out."

Aemma whined and howled loudly again. Gripping Viserys's hand with one hand and tightly holding the white cotton sheets with the other, Aemma clenched her teeth and pushed again with all her might. Wet nurses and Runciter's assistant Mellos scrambled all over the place; nurses dabbed her forehead to wipe away the sweat, another was getting more hot water, and Mellos was hurriedly concocting more medicinal vials to help deaden the pain without risking the child in the process.

"AAAAAAAAGHHH! NN-GHHH!" Gods, by the Mother, please answer my prayers. Let this child live. Please, let my child live… please!

"There it is! I can see the head!" Runciter announced.

Viserys turned towards Aemma. "You're doing good, Aemma! Our child is almost here! Just keep pushing!" he said as he tenderly massaged her hand.

Aemma looked exhausted. She wanted to give up but continued to fight this with every ounce of her strength her body could muster to deliver this child. Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes and again pressed down clenching her teeth. She continuously felt the intense yet painful contractions spanning minutes of each other grow as the child within her womb slowly moved further down.

"That's it! Push! Push, push!"

"You're doing good, my lady!" One of the nurses exclaimed.

"Grab me more towels and some hot water!"

Runciter carefully gripped the side of the newborn's head and neck as Aemma's cunt stretched further apart to allow more of the babe to exit her womb; cautiously moving his hand to help pull the child out, the neck, the shoulders… Runciter again encouraged another push. With everything she could give and Viserys beside her, Aemma felt her tight opening spreading apart and continued to scream louder than any dragon's call. With each push, another penetration ensued. Each one feeling heavier and more painful than the last.

"NGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

With a final breath and pushing with every ounce of strength, Aemma screamed and suddenly felt a sudden emptiness before slumping onto the bed, exhaustion washing over her as she breathed heavily.

"Waaah! Waah! Waaah!"

"You did it, Aemma!" Viserys said with relief and joy. "You did it!"

The sound of tiny cries soon reached Aemma's ears. She instinctively raised her head and looked down to see Grand Maester Runciter holding the screeching newborn baby covered in vernix caseosa in his arms.

"Congratulations, you two. It's a boy."

Viserys smiled and swelled with joy. He finally had a son… and the child survived this time! He finally had a child of his own who survived. Aemma smiled weakly as she observed Mellos and the wet nurses cleaning her baby before cutting the umbilical cord. The Grand Maester felt the infant's eyes remain closed, constantly moving its arms and legs, and bobbing its head left and right - exploring the surroundings of this strange new world for the first time. By the Gods, the baby had powerful lungs as he kept crying loudly! After taking time to clean the child, Runciter stood beside Viserys and Aemma laying in a slightly angled position to allow both parents to view the baby before gently passing the newborn to the mother.

Viserys took in the sight of Aemma and their son. Their eyes remained glued to their child as Aemma slowly opened her pale white gown and drew out a breast before guiding the newborn to her nipple so she could nurse him. She tenderly brushed a finger across her child's rosy cheek until she felt him latching on to her breast and began suckling.

"Oooh, Viserys," Aemma cooed wearily. "A son… we have a son…"

"Our son," Viserys kissed his wife's head. "He's so beautiful."

Moments later, the door to the room opened and revealed a visitor. Prince Baelon Targaryen, Viserys's father and Prince of Dragonstone. By the look on his face, he had received word that his first grandchild was born and came to see his son and daughter-in-law's triumphant moment. Seeing the two on the bed with the baby, the Spring Prince made his way over to them.

"Viserys! My son," Baelon boasted pridefully. "Nyke daor dohaeragon yn rȳbagon ao emagon nykeā tresy. Issa rijes nykeāōt naejot ao lanta. (I couldn't help but overhear that you have a son. My congratulations to you both.)"

"Kirimvose, kepa. (Thank you, father.)" Viserys replied. "Aemma se eman issare jehikagon ondoso se jaehossas pōntāla syt bisa kirimvose jēda. (Aemma and I have been blessed by the Gods themselves for this exciting moment.)"

"Emagon ao lanta iderennon va iā brōzi vasīr? (Have you two decided on a name yet?)"

Viserys and Aemma glanced at each other, then at their son who remained latched on to his mother's breast, then back towards Baelon.

"Aeonar," Viserys answered.

« Yes, that's me. Prince Aeonar Targaryen. That was the name my father and mother gave me. »

"Oh? That name sounds vaguely like Aenar the Exile. Surely you have no desire to send him away early because someone had a dream of the Doom, do you?"

"Father-in-law!" Aemma exclaimed horrified.

"Hahaha! Calm down, Aemma. I'm joking," Baelon chuckled. He then stood over the babe. "Now… introduce me to my first grandchild, Viserys."

Viserys looked at his newborn son. Eyes as pale as lilac, hair a rare color - rare even in Old Valyria: pale and shone like white gold. With one arm wrapped around Aemma and another placed around their son Aeonar, the young Targaryen prince held them close. The dream I had. It was clearer than a memory. Our son, Aemma, will soon wear Aegon's iron crown. I heard the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shields, and ringing swords, and I will soon place our son upon the Iron Throne as the bells of the Grand Sept tolled and all the dragons will roar as one. "My son," he whispered softly. "You have a great destiny laid before you. I know it. It was just like in my dreams."

« Ah yes, my father seemed convinced that his 'dreams' would speak truly… as if they had happened the way he 'prophesized' it. Many in House Targaryen grew to be dragonriders, but only an exceptional few became dreamers. Father fancied himself as one. »

"I'll send word for the Dragonkeepers," Baelon announced. "They will find a suitable dragon egg to place beside Aeonar's cradle." He turned to look at his grandson. "I feel he will become a dragonrider unlike any the world will ever see."

YEAR 101 AC

-Harrenhal-

Six years later, things changed dramatically. Prince Baelon Targaryen, the heir to the Iron Throne, had suddenly passed away five days after his appointment as Hand of the King due to a burst appendix.

With his sister-wife Queen Alysanne and both their two elder sons dead, the very frail and old King Jaehaerys realized the line of succession was abruptly thrown into chaos and a civil war would soon erupt unless the matter was resolved. He needed a new heir… but it would be from amongst his grandchildren. As such, Jaehaerys called for a Great Council to convene at the ruined castle of Harrenhal in the Riverlands to choose a successor. Every lord of Westeros who attended, great or small, numbered in the thousands.

« In the year 101, my grandfather Prince Baelon died. I still remember that day. Around that time, the Old King Jaehaerys was slowly wasting away. His health was failing him. And without an heir, it led to a succession crisis. To prevent that, my great-grandfather summoned the lords and ladies of Westeros to assemble at Harrenhal to choose a new heir. »

For thirteen days, the final candidates came down to King Jaehaerys's eldest grandchildren: Prince Viserys, the firstborn son of Baelon, and Princess Rhaenys, daughter of Aemon. By traditional inheritance law of primogeniture - male-preference or gender-blind - if Rhaenys was passed over as heir then her claim would pass on to her son Laenor Velaryon. But as the eldest surviving male, Viserys was seen as a strong contender. Whatever the results, both Rhaenys and Viserys promised to accept whatever the Great Council decided.

Aeonar stood beside Viserys and Aemma, along with his four-year-old sister Princess Rhaenyra. Their mother was already visibly pregnant again by the time the Great Council was called, yet Aemma was still well enough to travel. This was Aeonar's first time venturing outside King's Landing and witnessing so many nobles gathering in one place. Of course, being six years old, he was still young and did not understand the purpose behind this Great Council - but somehow, he could not shake off this suspicious feeling that something was wrong.

« Fourteen succession claims were heard, but only two were truly considered: Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the King's eldest descendant, and my father, Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King's eldest male descendant. Yet only one would be chosen. »

Beside the Old King stood Ser Otto Hightower, Jaehaerys's new Hand of the King, and his daughter, Alicent. Having grown up in the Red Keep, Alicent, Aeonar, and Rhaenyra were best friends - always seen playing together in the royal gardens. All three were a tight-knit group and always looked out for each other.

Next to them, however, stood Princess Rhaenys Targaryen along with her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon, and their children Laena and Laenor. Now Aeonar had heard stories of the Sea Snake's exploits as the most famed nautical adventurer in the history of Westeros whose bloodline was just as old as House Targaryen's, and he was excited to meet him for the first time but in person… Corlys seemed more intimidating, prideful, and arrogant. His wealth, fame, and reputation were thrown behind his wife's claim to the Iron Throne.

Rhaenys, meanwhile, was seen as an astute political observer. She had a lean, lined face and her black Baratheon hair was streaked with white. Though born a Targaryen, she wore an elegant cerulean gown donning the colors of the sea. Along with House Velayron's support, there was no doubt she also had the backing of House Baratheon, her mother's family. A dragonrider herself, Rhaenys fought in battle alongside her father and grandfather and was proven a leader in her own right. She was courteous around Aeonar, of course, considering the youth's age and a mother of two herself.

The Kingsguard, however, remained ever vigilant around the royal family. Led by the legendary Lord Commander Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Kingsguard ensured no harm would ever come to the Old King or any of his descendants.

Aeonar spotted two maesters approaching the steps, each one carrying a handle of a large, sealed chest before placing it down in front of King Jaehaerys. That must mean that all the votes must have been counted.

Once the chest had been opened, the Old King steadily reached inside and unveiled a scroll. Though his hands shook with age, Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes for a much closer look. The message entailed, The lords here assembled name Viserys of House Targaryen, son to Princess Alyssa and Prince Baelon, grandson of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne . "It is declared by all lords paramount and lords vassal of the Seven Kingdoms," he announced, "that Prince Viserys Targaryen be made Prince of Dragonstone."

Applause echoed loudly throughout the main hall as Viserys was officially elected by the nobility as King Jaehaerys's new heir by a wide margin of twenty to one. Aemma congratulated her husband, as did Aeonar and Rhaenyra.

« Rhaenys, a woman, would not inherit the Iron Throne. Instead, the lords chose Viserys… my father. »

As Aeonar finished congratulating his father, he turned to catch a brief glimpse of Rhaenys's throat tightening and her hands trembling with bitterness. Passed over for the throne twice, she begrudgingly accepted the results and turned to leave with an equally angry Lord Corlys and their two children. Aeonar somehow sensed that the results must have sowed the seeds of resentment and discord within House Targaryen's ranks.

YEAR 105 AC

-King's Landing-

Red Keep - Throne room…

It has been more than two years since King Jaehaerys I Targaryen died of old age. For almost 60 years, his reign brought peace and plenty to all in the Seven Kingdoms. Even the independent Principality of Dorne, who repelled numerous Targaryen attempts to conquer them, mourned the Old King's passing.

Since ascending the Iron Throne, one of King Viserys's first acts was to summon the lords and ladies of the realm into the throne room. For he was to officially designate his son, Prince Aeonar, as his heir. The colors of House Targaryen's banners hung from the gallery, dragon skulls decorated the columns, braziers were lit aflame, and four statues of past Targaryen kings were erected… from Aegon the Conqueror, Aenys the King Abomination, Maegor the Cruel, and now Jaehaerys the Conciliator.

Now a child of ten, Aeonar was getting dressed up for the upcoming ceremony. "Mother? What's father going to say?" he asked as Aemma adjusted his collar. He wore a black asymmetric tunic, a high-embroidered collar reminiscent of dragon scales. The outer coat is armless, fitting over a longer undercoat with close-fitting sleeves. The outer embossed leather, while sleeveless, does have prominent peaked shoulder-cuffs and the sleeves were crimson-red color. "He wasn't telling me anything. Did I do something wrong?"

Aemma finished fixing her son's clothes. "No. No, sweetling," she chuckled humorously. "Your father was hoping to spare you the details before the ceremony was set to commence, but I suppose Ser Otto was rather insistent the king name an heir to prevent another problem from arising again like it did when your great-grandfather was still alive."

"But I'm his heir, aren't I?"

"You are, darling. Don't get all nervous. You know your father and I love you and your sister dearly. No one would ever take your place. It's all just for show." Aemma wrapped the crimson cloak around Aeonar's shoulders. "There you go." She stood up. "Look at you. Ten years old. So handsome."

Aeonar blushed. "M-Mother," he scratched the back of his head embarrassed.

Accompanying Aemma, Aeonar and his sister Rhaenyra were brought to the throne room. Sitting atop the Iron Throne, a seat of power forged from the swords of Aegon the Conqueror's fallen enemies, sat a proud King Viserys. Placing one palm on one of the throne's sword pommels and holding the Valyrian steel sword Blackfyre in the other, he steadily rose to greet his family.

"Ah, there you are," Viserys greeted. "My children. My pride and joy."

"Sorry if I was late, father," Aeonar bowed. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did, yes. And just in time too," the king pointed at the growing assembly. "The lords here have come here to swear fealty to my heir. Now, are you ready?"

"Yes, father. I won't disappoint you."

"I know you won't, son. I know you won't." Viserys gripped Blackfyre and tapped the tip of the blade on the ground to get everyone's attention. "Grand Maester."

Mellos, now risen to the rank of Grand Maester following Runciter's death, unveiled a scroll and began to speak loudly. "Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark," he beckoned.

Lord Corlys, now serving on the small council as Master of Ships and Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet, was the first to approach. He stared intently at Viserys and briefly at Aeonar before kneeling. "I, Corlys Velaryon," he began, "Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Prince Aeonar." He lifted his head. "I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

« My father told me that day that the Iron Throne is different than a dragon's saddle. More dangerous and unpredictable. Enemies will surround you unless you take the necessary precautions. But he also told me the reasons why Aegon Targaryen decided to invade Westeros and conquer it. It was to unite it against the coming darkness threatening to bring about an everlasting winter from the north. He called it 'The Song of Ice and Fire.' Whether I believe it or not, I cannot say for certain. Everyone has their theories as to what motivated Aegon the Conqueror to launch his campaign. »

"I, Hobert Hightower, Lord of the Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of Oldtown, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Prince Aeonar. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

"I, Boremund Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Prince Aeonar. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

"I, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Prince Aeonar. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

One by one, the lords and ladies of Westeros swore fealty to Viserys and his son. Once the ceremony was complete, Aeonar turned to face his father.

"I, Viserys of House Targaryen," Viserys decreed, "the First of My Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby name Aeonar Targaryen Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

Aeonar turned to face the assembly, who bowed their heads in acknowledgment. He could see Alicent who gave him a reassuring smile to let him know he was not alone in the new challenges he was sure to face in his upcoming trials. Turning to his left, Rhaenyra stood beside him; to his right, his mother Queen Aemma. Momentarily excited, Aeonar's smile briefly dropped when he saw who was staring at him from the corridor…

His uncle, Prince Daemon Targaryen - the Rogue Prince and rider of Caraxes the Blood Wyrm. Cunning, yet dangerously impulsive and unpredictable, some gossiped that Daemon was a threat to the realm and his older brother's rule. Aeonar felt his uncle's gaze staring into his soul - which frightened him. Daemon felt his role as Viserys's heir was usurped by his young nephew and didn't even bother attending before departing from the throne room.

Kepus…

(Uncle…)

« King Jaehaerys called the Great Council to prevent a war being fought over his succession upon his inevitable death. For he knew the cold, hard truth: the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon… was itself. »