The Dragons Realm, A House Targaryen AAR

[streaker77]

Fourth Moon, 8016
Visenya's Chambers


Visenya looked into the mirror as Elayna helped adjust her clothes for court, a long black dress with a dark silver chain necklace with a pendant of pure obsidian, black as night, the clothes of a mourning queen.

She was painfully aware of the lines on her face, under her eyes. To be sure they were not new, she had become aware of them the past few years, she was leaving her youth behind, but ever since Aegons death she had seemingly aged ten years, with dark lines under her eyes.

Aegon She thought, just thinking of his name was enough to wrack grief through her body, coursing through her veins, tears welling at her eyes, but she did not let them pass.

A Queen does not cry…and I must remain strong Visenya thought, steeling herself, once she entered the throne room there could be no hint of weakness.

As if she was aware of Visenyas thoughts, Elayana, her handmaiden, took her hand and squeezed it gently. The young woman was near 20 years younger than her but was one of the only people that Visenya truly trusted. On the night that terrible raven had reached her with the news, her handmaiden had even warmed her bed, comforting her, like she was a young girl.

‘’They will be expecting you Your grace.’’ Elayana said gently.

Visenya nodded, taking one last look in the mirror before Elayana placed a circlet of black silver on her silver hair, and with that she made her way to the door, where the Kingsguard Ser Garmon Hightower had the guard.

‘’My Queen.’’ Ser Garmon said, bowing deeply, Visenya nodded silently and together they walked through the timber halls of the Aegonfort until they arrived at the Longhall of the Aegonfort, where the castle denizens were assembled for court.

The longhall of the Aegonfort, which had been so lively during the courts of the late King, was nearly deserted, with only a small handful of nobles present. Visenya had sent away almost all of the small council, Harlan Tyrell, Edmyn Tully, Jon Mooton, all had been given leave to return home, she did not want to contend with any other opposing voices in her regency, she would not be questioned by the likes of them, no matter how competent they were, they would act in the interests of their houses while Visenya would only work to secure her sons position.

Only her half-brother Orys and Grandmaester Arlan remained, both standing on opposite sides of the Iron Throne.

The rest of the smoky longhall was sparsely crowded. The knights of the Kinsguard were all present, save for Corlys Velaryon who was with her son in the courtyard, no doubt training Vaemond on swordplay and tactics. The two had become almost inseparable since their return, and Visenya sensed these lessons were a way to distract him from his grief.

Her daughter Nyel was also present, as were Orys’s two squires Michael Musgood and Steffon Swann. She quite liked little Michael, a boy of 8 who was well mannered, but she did not like the way that Steffon Swann, with his long black hair and green eyes looked at his daughter, and more importantly she did not like how Nyel looked back at him. The boy was due to return home in a year but she would have to have a quiet word with Orys that perhaps he should be sent back to Stonehelm immediately.

Her sister Rhaenys was not present either, a fortnight after that terrible raven had arrived, she had departed for Storms End, where Orys’s wife was expecting another child, hoping the running of little feet would distract her from her grief, an idea Orys had been supportive of. Visenya once again felt a twinge of sadness that her sister would likely never have children of her own, but darker thoughts reminded her that her own children would not have to look over their shoulder at younger half-siblings.

Brynden Tully, the one legged commander of the gold cloaks was also present, leaning on a cane, accompanied by his youngest son Rhaegar, a skinny boy with red hair. Her handmaiden Elayana was present as well, normally it would not be appropriate for one of such low standing to attend court but there was noone left to oppose Visenya's decision.

Rounding out the group of regulars was Ser Neilyn, the Dornish hedge knight who served as the castle's master-of-the-hunt as well as occasionally serving as Aegon's justice and executioner after meeting the King following the capture of Wyl.

At the back of the hall was one of the largest men that Visenya had ever seen, standing a good foot taller than Aegon had been, more than seven feet tall, he had short cropped brown hair and the beginnings of a beard, he wore a woolen doublet with the sigil of a black and white boar.

He is all that was promised and more Visenya thought as she took a seat, carefully maneuvering herself so that the black silk of her dress would not be torn.

Aegon you sweet noble fool She thought as she struggled to get comfortable, he had somehow believed that the uncomfortable nature of the throne would remind a king that they must never grow complacent, not even in their own throne, but Visenya found that it was hard to concentrate on anything for fear of slipping back onto a sword.

At last however she found a position where there didn't seem to be any immediate threat of being impaled and turned to the court, nodding to Orys to begin the proceedings, who asked if there were any in the court that wished to lay a matter before the Queen regent, due to the small attendance however there were no petitions, leaving Visenya free to deal with other metters.

She turned to the huge man at the back of the hall ‘’Ser Roland Crakehall, step forward if you will.’’

The large man stepped forward towards the Throne, bowing his head.

‘’Ser Roland….I have heard tales and rumors of a formidable young Knight from Crakehall…I find rumors to be inaccurate at best, but these tales do you a disservice Ser.’’ Visenya said curtly.

‘’As you know, the Kinsguard Ser Stafford Lannister, representative of the Westerlands was…..lost at sea along with his King.’’ Visenya said, stopping to collect herself for a moment.

Ser Roland nodded and spoke, a deep booming voice despite his young age ‘’I instructed the septon of Crakehall to have candles lit in the sept for the King and Ser Stafford, along with all the others who perished….the Westerlands share your grief my lady.’’

Visenya very much doubted that but she nodded ‘’There is a vacancy on my sons Kingsguard that could be filled by a Knight of the Westerlands….I would offer you the chance to fill this vacancy….consider carefully as you would be giving up the chance at land, title, and heir.’’

The young knight took a knee ‘’The seven as my witness I shall keep the King safe from harm….I accept.’’

Visenya gave a small smile, she knew he would accept, and it was good that he had, It would do her son good to have a younger Kinsguard around him, as the youngest member of the guard before Rolands appointment was 34. ‘’Good, Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon will hear your vow following court, myself and my son shall attend at the White Sword Tower.’’

Ser Roland nodded and withdrew to the back of the hall.

With that finished, the next order of business was begun.

‘’Ser Neilyn….step forward.’’ Visenya commanded and the gray haired Dornish hedge knight complied.

‘’It is the opinion of the council that you have served the court well for these past years, putting food on the table as master of the hunt, and proving your martial ability during the Dornish conspiracy.’’ Visenya began.

The knight nodded ‘’I am pleased you see the value in my service your Grace.’’

‘’It is the wish of the council that you be henceforth raised to the rank of lord, and be given the island of Sunstone as your seat….Grandmaester Arlan will meet with you following court to create a sigil of your choice.’’ Visenya decreed, earning nods from both Orys and Arlan on her side.

Neilyn had used his years in the capitol to great effect, befriending both the Hand of the King Orys by hunting together on occasion and the Grandmaester, whom he instructed on how best to prevent ravens from being attacked by falcons. It was these friendships that led him to become the leading candidate to receive the island of Sunstone.

In truth Visenya had not particularly cared about the small rocky island in the narrow sea, she was aware of Aegon's plan to perhaps set up their son Matarys as Lord of the Stepstones, but she didn't think it fitting that a prince be given overlordship of former pirates, rocky islands, and bedraggled fishermen as his inheritance, such a task was much more suited for an old and grizzled hedge knight than the blood of the Dragon.

‘’I accept the honor,my Queen.’’ Ser Neilyn said, bowing his head, looking rather pleased, as he should. In just a few years he had gone from master-at-arms of the Dornish castle of Wyl, to master of the hunt of the royal court, to a lord of a newly founded noble house.

After Lord Neilyns ascension, there was but one more thing Visenya wished to accomplish for the days court.

She turned to Grandmaester Arlan, barely avoiding cutting herself on a sharp sword edge.

‘’Grandmaester…have a raven sent to Runestone informing Lord Nestor Royce that he is to bring both my son and his daughter to the capitol, it is time they were wed.’’ Visenya said, earning a few whispers in the court, the prospect of a royal marriage was always exciting.

Grandmaester Arlan ran a hand through his long white beard ‘’My Queen if I may….the prince and Demerei Royce are quite young….perhaps it would be best to wait a few years, until the prince is a man grown….it takes a man to fully understand the vows of marriage.’’

Visenya shook her head ‘’The marriage need not be consummated for some time, but it is time my son returned home…do as I ask Grandmaester.’’

Arlan nodded, ever obedient.

In truth, Visenya had meant to do this much earlier. With Aegon's death, she feared that some unknown faction might snatch her son, isolated and alone in the Vale and use him as a figurehead or a puppet in some sort of rebellion against his older brother, the sooner her son was safe in the capital the better.

Visenya felt the tiredness take her, the court had drained her more than she knew, she stood from the throne and dismissed the court for the day, returning to her chambers and dreaming of better days.

 

[Midnite Duke]

Depressed Queen-Mother/Regent is not good. Poor Matarys, he will be put under lock & key to prevent someone from using him as a pawn. Thank you

 

[HistoryDude]

I'm surprised that Visenya is visibly depressed. In the regular ASOIAF timeline, she took advantage of Aegon's death to gain greater influence...

How's Rhaenys reacting to Aegon's death?

 

[Warlord Skorr]

I'm surprised that Visenya is visibly depressed. In the regular ASOIAF timeline, she took advantage of Aegon's death to gain greater influence...

How's Rhaenys reacting to Aegon's death?

To be fair, in this timeline Aegon had chosen her over her sister and only had children with her. The two seem to have been a lot closer here than in canon ASoIaF. It's also hard to maneuver for more power when one is already the Regent sitting on the Iron Throne.

 

[streaker77]

Depressed Queen-Mother/Regent is not good. Poor Matarys, he will be put under lock & key to prevent someone from using him as a pawn. Thank you

Very true, but Visenya will just need to hold on a while longer because Vaemond will be of age in 2 years. Interesting you should mention that because in the distant future, Matarys will be faced with the unwelcome prospect of potentially being placed under lock and key, and in a location significantly less desirable than his comfortable chambers in the Aegonfort.

To be fair, in this timeline Aegon had chosen her over her sister and only had children with her. The two seem to have been a lot closer here than in canon ASoIaF. It's also hard to maneuver for more power when one is already the Regent sitting on the Iron Throne.

Very well said, in Canon ASOIAF, I believe Aegons relationship with Visenya became so tense that he actually sent her away to Dragonstone so he didnt have to see her anymore, and ive thought many times how Ironic it is that Aegon did basically the opposite in this AAR, though he never actively disliked Rhaenys.

I'm surprised that Visenya is visibly depressed. In the regular ASOIAF timeline, she took advantage of Aegon's death to gain greater influence...

How's Rhaenys reacting to Aegon's death?

Rhaenys ran off to Storms End after his death to help raise Orys's Children, which is a little sad since she wont have kids of her own. One of my regrets of the AAR is that I wasnt really able to make Rhaenys a major character, but she didnt have any kids with Aegon or get into much court intrigue so there wasnt that much oppurtunity to integrate her in important events. This will continue in future chapters, she will appear briefly in a coming chapter but she wont be survived by any children or have much more ''screen time.'' With that being said, if one considers her Dragon Meraxes one of her children, her line will be continued by Moondancer, who comes from an egg that Rhaenys gave Matarys, and who will have a big role in the next chapter.

 

[streaker77]

9th Moon, 8016
Fields outside Kings Landing


The sun was shining brightly as Vaemond approached his horse. An excited murmur made its way through the crowd.

Corlys Velaryon was at his side, the dust of the tourney grounds mixing with the sweltering heat ‘’I've asked around about your opponent….but i'm afraid I don't have much advice for you….Ser Orson is unpredictable.’’

Vaemond nodded, mounting his horse, as he was only 14, he had no squire of his own so Omer Bulwer, the boy who had come to be fostered by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard due to his fathers prowess in the lists some years ago attended him.

The young squire had already helped him into his armor, black plate with a golden dragon emblem, but now that he was mounted he handed Vaemond a black helm, a slit to see through, then a lance and shield None of the equipment was scaled down, despite being only 14, Vaemond found he was the same size if not taller of many men in the court with a strength to match.

His opponent, a younger brother of the lord of Farring Cross was less impressive, wearing a leather jerkin, mail, and a surcoat, bright purple and white in the colors of his house.

Vaemond steadied himself, preparing for the signal to be given by the trumpeters.

It was to be Vaemonds first joust. Once word that Matarys and Demerei Royce were to be wed, Brynden Tully, commander of the Gold Cloaks and overseer of Kings Landing had announced that he would fund a small tourney as his gift for the newly weds, rather ironic as the aging man had lost his leg in one some years prior.

It was to be a small affair, with only the knights of the Kinsguard and combatants from the castles and lands surrounding the capitol, a region that had become known as the Crownlands ever since Aegon's conquest. Vaemond had been determined to take part, and his mother had of course offered a feeble resistance, but not much, she was always so tired lately, though he had thought that he had even seen a glimpse of pride on her face when she came to wish him well.

‘’It's your first joust…..so don't try and inspire a song by doing something outlandish….shield up, lance down…after that it's all luck…and horsemanship’’ Corlys said, patting the mounted Vaemond on the leg.

Vaemond supposed he should have some measure of fear, he had seen the consequences of a joust gone wrong, Orys Baratheon his fathers best friend and half-brother had lost his eye on this very field, as Ser Brynden had lost his leg, but all he could feel in his body was excitement, few things scared him after his fall from the crows nest in the Sunset Sea.

Vaemond would have liked to give a look to his sister, brother, and mother in the royal pavilion, but the dust and sun meant he could only make out the dragon banner.

The trumpets heralded the beginning of the joust, and Vaemond sent his horse, a brown warhorse, thundering forward at Ser Orson Farring. Jousting was an activity that required a good deal of self awareness, when to go on the attack, and when to realize you were in a poor position and attempt to defend.

Vaemond rode well on his first tilt, but Ser Orson rode with the experience of a man used to participating in tourneys, and it was his lance that struck first, Vaemond had been so sure he was in a good position to strike first he had not even attempted to block the strike, but by chance Ser Orsons blow hit his shield, shattering it and sending wood chips flying everywhere, and the two riders prepared to go again, with Omer Bulwer handing Vaemond another shield. The second tilt saw neither rider shatter a lance and they prepared for the third, and decisive tilt which ended in Vaemond falling from his horse into the dirt, causing a loud murmur through the crowd.

Ser Orson dismounted immediately, and to the crowd's relief, helped Vaemond up, who began to dust himself off. Ser Orson Farring dispensed with the need for Vaemond to ransom his horse and black and golden plate armor, and Vaemond made his way back to the royal pavilion, a little bruised but otherwise unharmed.

‘’I am glad you are unhurt Vae.’’ Matarys, who was sitting beside Demerei Royce said.

‘’You rode well brother.’’ Nyel said graciously as he took a seat.

Vaemond shook his head ‘’I rode well in the first tilt but I was never anywhere close to landing a hit in any of the others.’’

‘’Still….for your first joust….’’ Nyel offered, taking his shoulder gently and picking out a wood chip that had embedded in his tunic.

‘’If I’m to be King I will have to deal with worse than the likes of Orson Farring.’’ Vaemond said, somewhat sullenly as Nyel pulled out the shard.

‘’And when you do deal with them….it will not be on the tourney grounds….jousting is a game for old done men and young boys to play at war….your father never rode in them.’’ His mother said, approaching, her voice sharp as it was so often.

‘’Well I enjoyed it nonetheless.’’ Vaemond responded, feeling like a fool the moment the words left his mouth, it was his curse.

His mother nodded curtly at that ‘’You enjoyed it because you are yet a boy Vaemond….when you see battle perhaps you will enjoy it less.’’

The rest of the jousting was concluded within a few hours as it was a smaller tourney. Ser Gregor Goode, and Ser Roland Crakehall of the Kinsguard rode well, as did Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood, but in the end it had been the newest and youngest member of the Kingsguard, Ser Roland Crakehall who had won the honors.

By the time Ser Roland had secured his victory, dusk had come, and the tourney ground began to empty, most of the spectators reluctantly returning to their homes or taverns, while the most notable guests made their way to the Sept for the wedding between Matarys Targaryen and Demerei Royce.

Visenya had chosen to hold the wedding in the small sept within the Aegonfort, with only those of suitable rank being invited. Orys Baratheon was present, as was Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood. Lord Nestor Royce and his wife Nynia, who had been named Queen of Love and Beauty all those years ago, were standing at the front rank to see their daughter married, Rhaenys had made the trip from Storms End as well, giving Vaemond a smile as he entered the small sept, she looked pale however, and had heard his mother mention she suffered from the same cancer that Ser Corlys did.

A plump septon stood at the altar, moonlight pouring through the seven glass windows.

Matarys stood in front of him, his silver hair shaved short and dressed in a tight fitting black leather jerkin with red garnets set about the neck. Demerei Royce was beside him.

Matarys had grown taller since Vaemond had seen him last, but Demeri stood a few inches taller still, her light brown hair, which matched her eyes was pulled back and she wore a white dress. Her thin lips had a small smile on them as she stood next to Matarys.

Once it was clear all those in attendance were present, the plump septon began the ceremony.

‘’In the sight of gods and men….we call upon the seven to witnes…’’ The septon began before Matarys gave a small chuckle.

‘’My good septon….there are no gods here.’’ Matarys said matter of factly, causing the plump septon to gasp and an awkward silence to fill the sept.

‘’Blasphemy…….’’ The septon said after some pause, raising a meaty finger towards the prince.

Vaemond saw his mother was about to stand up but before she could Demerei Royce interjected.

‘’Forgive me septon, but I believe my betrothed meant no offense…only to point out that not all the seven are here at this moment, would it not be more fitting to ask the mother, maiden, and crone to witness our vows…surely the warrior has little interest in weddings.’’ Demerei Royce pointed out, it was clear she was extremely intelligent.

The septon paused at that ‘’Well…hmmm..I….perhaps.’’ he said, clearly flustered.

‘’Continue Septon Owen.’’ Visenya commanded and the ceremony went without further interruption.

When the time came, Nestor Royce, Lord of Runestone approached his daughter and removed her wedding cloak, which was pale orange cloth with black cloth stitched in the shape of runes of the first men.

Matarys took his own cloak, black as midnight with a dark red dragon and placed it on her shoulders with some difficulty, welcoming Demerei Royce into the protection of House Targaryen.

Once this was done, the septon, still somewhat perturbed about the earlier interruption, said the customary words, with the betrothed giving oaths of love and loyalty before exchanging a kiss, officially binding House Targaryen and House Royce.

Following this, the small procession moved to the Aegonfort where a feast had been prepared which went on for several hours, there was no bedding ceremony as the two were still young however.





Midnight
Vaemonds Chambers

Vaemond was awoken by his door creaking open, a figure holding a candle making their way through the door before carefully shutting it.

Vaemond propped himself up, squinting in the darkness to figure out who it was as the figure approached, the candle illuminating the silver hair and violet eyes of his sister.

‘’Nyel?’’ Vaemond asked with confusion.

She put a lip to her lips and approached his bed.

‘’How did you get past the Kingsguard?’’ Vaemond asked with confusion, his door was guarded in shifts by his Kinsguard throughout the night.

‘’Changing of the guard.’’ Nyel responded quietly

‘’It's a good thing you're not an assassin…..it seems I'm easier to kill than I thought’’ Vaemond said, still groggy from sleep.

She ignored that and put a hand on his shoulder, gently, Vaemond grimaced and pulled away, both in pain and with a little embarrassment, he had fallen on the shoulder hard during the tourney.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He asked.

‘’You're wounded worse than I thought your Grace.’’ She said, gently massaging it.

‘’You don't have to call me that.’’ Vaemond said, looking at her, noticing not for the first time how her violet eyes seemed to sparkle.

Afterwards he couldn't say how it started but suddenly he was kissing her, while she gently pushed him down onto the bed and unlaced his shirt, he didn't resist her.

Dead of Night
Vaemonds Chambers


Nyel stood in the familiar blackness, the void she called it. It had been months since she had last dreamed it….since before her father had died.

She saw nothing at first but turned.

To her right a figure appeared, featureless and dark the shadow approached, leaning on a cane. Three sharp black swords followed him, dancing through the air, leaving behind a purple mist.

‘’Boy.’’ The figure said the word echoing throughout the dark like a clash of steel, the figure approaching before at last disappearing, the next part of the vision filled her mind.

Nyel was gone from the darkness, in a tower chamber, oddly familiar to her.

A figure approached her, short hair like silver, reaching out a hand.

She bit him, hot blood coursing through her mouth, a shrill scream puncturing the silence of the dark.

The blood of the dragon The words entered her mind.

Suddenly she was off the ground,small wings as white as snow carrying her into the distance.

She was back in the dark and the stench of death, the most vile smell that she had ever encountered filled the air, choking her, strangling her.

She fell to the ground, hearing a shuffling noise.

She turned and then she saw it, a shadow cloaked by a black hood approached.

She felt tears as cold as ice falling down her face at the sight of it, and suddenly she was fighting it, attempting to pull some unseen object from its hands, shrieking, pleading and screaming but to no avail.

The figure pulled down its hood, a face cracked and gray with yellow eyes staring back, causing her to fall to the ground, losing her grip on the unseen object.

My fault Another figure said to her, its voice full of grief, oddly familiar.

Nyel awoke in a cold sweat, the gray shadows face slowly fading from her mind.

She looked around and realized she was still in her brother's chambers, cursing as she realized she had slept. She had meant to leave his chambers at the next changing of the guard, but now it would be impossible to get out without being discovered.

Before she could rouse Vaemond, who was sleeping soundly beside her, to cause a distraction, a blood piercing scream echoed throughout the keep, providing more than enough distraction as she heard the Kingsguard outside her brother's door run down the hall.

Vaemond woke up and immediately pulled on a tunic, scarcely giving Nyel a look as he ran off to investigate, giving Nyel privacy to dress.

When she had, she slowly made her way to the scene that was unfolding just a few doors down….around her brother Matarys’s chamber.

On the floor was her brother, leaving against his bed groaning, a chunk of his hand missing, red blood pouring onto the fine carpets of the chamber, Demerei Royce was at his side, comforting him, while an Iron cage stood open in the corner of the room.

After Grandmaester Arlan had stemmed the bleeding with firemilk, the truth gradually came out. Though the marriage had not been consummated as Demerei Royce was still too young, the two newlyweds had shared a bed in a ceremonial fashion.

Upon the morning, Matarys, feeling the effects of several cups of wine from the wedding feast and wanting to impress Demerei opened the dragon Moondancers cage to attempt to hold him. The dragon was no longer a little hatchling and was the size of a small dog and had reacted with hostility, attacking the prince and flying off, but not before taking a chunk of his hand with him.

Two Nights Later
Vaemonds Chambers


Vaemond took one last look at the map before stuffing it in his satchel, donning a hooded cloak and opening the door quietly, where Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon was waiting.

The two made their way through the deserted halls of the Aegonfort before they were soon outside, the chill of night hitting Vaemond and he pulled his cloak tighter against his body.

‘’Last chance to turn back.’’ The Lord Commander said, armored in white enamel plate with a flowing white cloak, a far cry from his young charges subtlety.

‘’No chance.’’ Vaemond said and the two continued towards the stables, mounting two horses and riding through the gates, which were opened immediately when the guards saw the white armor of the Kinsguard, little attention being placed on his hooded companion.

They rode through the streets of Kings Landing, the smell of shit and cheap beer hitting them as they passed through Eel Alley, a few drunk men stumbled outside various small taverns and wine sinks but otherwise the streets were near empty.

Vaemond looked up at the hill where the Red Keep was being constructed and improved, the red bricks visible in the moonlight, a far more impressive sight even unfinished than the timber Aegonfort.

After a time they eventually reached the Lion Gate and similarly to the Aegonfort, the guards let the Lord Commander out without any question.

After that they rode west, following the river of the Blackwater Rush, Vaemond urged his horse forward into a gallop, pulling down his hood and feeling the cool night breeze on his face, the Lord Commander followed close behind, following the young prince's pace.

The two were headed west to track down the dragon Moondancer, which according to reports had made its way to a small island on the river a few miles from Kings Landing, snapping at any fishermen that got too close.

Vaemond had intended to ride alone at first, sneaking out of the palace. The dragon Moondancer, despite its fierceness was only three feet long and it was only a matter of time before the fishermen decided enough was enough and attacked it, his mother was planning to travel to the island on the back of Vhagar and coax it back to the city but she was busy as of late and it could be too late by the time that happened so Vaemond decided to take matters into his own hands

Vaemond had felt sick with the idea of deceiving his Kingsguard, potentially exposing them to chastisement if he escaped under their watch so earlier that night he had opened the door and had the Kingsguard Ser Garmon Hightower bring him to the White Sword Tower to speak with Corlys.

He was very close with his distant cousin, and confided near everything in the Lord Commander, even telling him, red faced, what had occurred with Nyel. Lord Commander Corlys agreed that something should be done about Moondancer and agreed to help Vaemond, but with the non negotiable condition that he escort the prince to Moondancers hideout.

‘’I'm surprised it managed to get so far for such a small thing.’’ Corlys said, breaking the silence as they slowed their horses to a trot, giving the horses a reprieve.

‘’I find it unwise to be surprised at anything a Dragon does….small it may be but it has the blood of Balerion in its veins.’’ Vaemond said with a small smile, earning a nod from the Kingsguard.

Among a pile of reeds they found a small rowboat, Corlys left a small purse of 50 silver stags for the owner and they pushed it into the Blackwater Rush, heading upstream.

Not long after the small island came into sight, along with its occupant. Vaemond had to admit his brother did a fine job naming the dragon as Moondancer was aptly named. White as fresh fallen snow with small smooth scales the small dragon was sleeping in the middle of the island, sticking out in the dark waters of the Blackwater Rush much like the moon in the night sky.

They paddled slowly through the dark river until they reached it, the dragon still unaware of their presence.

‘’I'll go alone.’’ Vaemond said softly, and the Lord Commander shook his head with an expression that brooked no negotiation.

Vaemond stepped from the boat to the muddy shore and the dragon opened its eyes, hearing the rattle of Corlys’s heavy plate armor.

It stood on its legs and gave a hiss, a small amount of smoke filling the night sky.

Corlys stood back, his hand resting gently on his Longsword while Vaemond slowly approached.

The small dragon let out another hiss but stood its ground.

Vaemond, making sure to show no fear, strode confidently forward, reaching into his satchel and throwing out a choice piece of bloody beef, straight from the kitchens at the ground in front of the white dragon.

He approached even closer, being so close that he could count the tiny ringmail scales of the dragon.

The moment had come and there was no backing down now, the dragon stopped its eating and stared at the prince suspiciously with blue eyes.

Vaemond reached out a hand and placed it on the dragon's head, expecting to be bitten….but no bite came.

 

[Midnite Duke]

Is Matarys' dragon now Vaemond's? Matarys got a great wife, but will they produce a child before Matarys encounters another disaster? Will the dreams rob Nyel of her sanity? That is among the questions that our teller of great deeds alone can answer. Thank you, kind soothsayer.

 

[Thaiga]

Feel so sad for poor Matarys. Already so deep in his brother's shadow, now he had lost the only thing he had that his brother did not.

 

[HistoryDude]

Well, you can't win everything.

Wow, Moondancer, playing favorites much?

Also, there are Tullys in King's Landing? Shouldn't they be ruling the Riverlands?

 

[streaker77]

Feel so sad for poor Matarys. Already so deep in his brother's shadow, now he had lost the only thing he had that his brother did not.

If it was anyone else they might feel slighted, but Matarys will not take any insult out of it. My plan for insane characters is basically to amplify their traits to extreme levels, and since Matarys has the content trait he will actively avoid any type of responsibility/honor/gift, as will be seen in a future chapter. Without getting into too much further detail, Matarys's story will be interesting and will include something ive never seen in all my years of playing ck2.

Well, you can't win everything.

Wow, Moondancer, playing favorites much?

Also, there are Tullys in King's Landing? Shouldn't they be ruling the Riverlands?

As a reward to the Tullys service in the conquest, Aegon gave their Lord Paramounts brother command of the city and the gold cloaks, its not a hereditary title so once he dies the city command can be granted to someone else, but the next few commanders of Kings Landing/Goldcloaks will be rivermen before an interesting appointment breaks the trend, Tullys are still lords of the trident though.

Is Matarys' dragon now Vaemond's? Matarys got a great wife, but will they produce a child before Matarys encounters another disaster? Will the dreams rob Nyel of her sanity? That is among the questions that our teller of great deeds alone can answer. Thank you, kind soothsayer.

Tough times are ahead for Nyel, and Matarys will find himself in a dangerous situation or two. Moondancer is now the Kings dragon, though it will be many years before Vaemond can fly(16 years for dragons is when they stop being hatchlings, a little unrealistic but thats how im approaching it)

 

[Bullfilter]

More great chapters. I liked the touches of the three chronicles and look forward to their additions over time. At least Moondancer didn’t end up going fully rogue.

Matarys's story will be interesting and will include something ive never seen in all my years of playing ck2.

Ooh, a spicy hint! I look forward to seeing what that might be.

 

[streaker77]

More great chapters. I liked the touches of the three chronicles and look forward to their additions over time. At least Moondancer didn’t end up going fully rogue.


Ooh, a spicy hint! I look forward to seeing what that might be.

It wont be until the very distant future, but I defiantly did a bit of a double take when I saw it, maybe others have experienced it but I believe it is pretty rare.

 

[streaker77]

10th Moon, 8018
Streets of Oldtown


Oldtown was the greatest city that Vaemond had ever seen. Winding streets of well cobbled stone made the city a maze, and bridges connecting small islands to each other further divided the city, to the extent that it could be said that Oldtown was multiple cities within a city.

‘’A man could spend a lifetime in this city and still not get the measure of it.’’ Vaemond said, earning a chuckle from Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon who was riding alongside him, a long white cloak covering his shoulders and even some of his horse.

‘’It is strange to think…..my father rode down this same street…with the same purpose.’’ Vaemond continued.

‘’I was in Kings Landing during his coronation…..but from what I see you have drawn a greater crowd than him.’’ Corlys replied, nodding to the throngs of people that had gathered to watch the Targaryen retinue make their way down the streets towards the Starry Sept, it was truly packed, with food vendors selling their wares and children on the backs of the parents to catch a glimpse of the Targaryen procession as well as Vaemonds mothers dragon Vhagar, which flew high above in the air.

‘’I can take little credit for that……my father brought peace to Westeros, I heard it said that so long as the people of this Kingdom have peace and prosperity they don't care who sits the Iron Throne.’’ Vaemond continued.

‘’Many in this crowd were suckling babes when your father took his throne…..they've known naught but peace.’’ Corlys agreed.

Vaemond glanced behind him, where his mother Visenya was riding, still dressed in the black mourning attire of a dowager queen, a blank expression on her face.

He slowed his pace ‘’I know this is hard for you mother.’’

She gave the slightest of smiles ‘’My son is coming into his crown….It is a source of happiness for me.’’

Vaemond nodded not fully believing her, last night in his chambers of the Hightower, Nyel had confided in him after they had finished that she had seen their mother crying in her chambers. Vaemond understood, every minute spent in this city was likely salt on an open wound for his grieving mother…every step within the city bringing forth a memory of her late brother's coronation some 18 years earlier.

The Starry Sept came into view, its black marble standing in stark contrast to the white stone and cobbled streets much of the city was built from. The street leading up to the sept was made up of sprawling manses and villas of the pious.

‘’It seems as if ones piety is determined by who their father was.’’ Vaemond said pointedly as they passed the ‘’mansions of the pious.’’

‘’It's the way of the world.’’ Corlys said with a nod.

The Targaryen procession made its way closer to the sept, riding through the large plaza of bleached white stone. This is where the lords of the realm waited, many standing in groups of their fellow regional lords…..there were hundreds of them.

He saw more banners and sigils than he could possibly count, he made out his Hand, Orys Baratheon sharing a joke with a crowd of his Stormlords, one eyed as he was he still made for an impressive sight, turning his eyes towards the lords of the Vale he made out Lord Nestor Royce as well, smiling to his daughter Demerei, who rode in the procession along with Matarys. While some lords conversed among themselves, most of the hundreds of nobles in the courtyard stared at the young Targaryen prince, eager to catch a glimpse of the man who would be their King. With the exception of the Eyrie and Fair Isle, Vaemond had mostly remained in Kings Landing during his upbringing and most lords knew little about him.

Vaemond made for an impressive sight, while traditionally gifts were given after the coronation, his mother had gifted him with a splendid suit of armor ahead of his coronation, black plate with a dragon made of the finest rubies money could buy, and a long red cloak flowing from the shoulders. At his side in a sheath of black leather was his fathers Valyrian steel sword Blackfyre, its ruby glinting in the sunlight. Vaemond had also done his best to grow as much of a beard as he could for his 16 years in an effort to make him look more kingly.

The High Septon that awaited them upon the courtyard was different from the one that had presided over Aegon's coronation, with the man, known only by the moniker ‘’The Wise One’’ having preceded the previous septon over 12 years earlier.

The septon had short brown hair and blue eyes with a large nose, and was surrounded by the men of the Warriors Sons, who were commanded by Ser Garmon Hightowers brother Leyton.

The septon commanded the warriors sons to help the Targaryen retinue from their horses with an authoritative command, though Vaemond dismissed his help and dismounted himself, as did his Kingsguard.

The High Septon studied Vaemond as you approached ‘’You have a Kings look.’’

‘’The least important quality of a King.’’ Vaemond replied.

‘’And yet the one in which the most assumptions will be drawn from.’’ The High Septon finished.

‘’I admired your father…..all of Westeros under one King….there were conflicts to be sure, but never before has such a period of peace graced our land.’’ The man continued as they walked towards the entrance to the Starry Sept.

‘’I am sure you do not complain about your increased ability to influence the faith in all the seven Kingdoms either.’’ Vaemond said curtly.

The High Septon gave a small chuckle at that ‘’The faith has a duty to the people of the realm…just as much as Kings.’’

The inside of the sept was magnificent, made of black polished marble contrasted with stained glass of all colors sending rays of light streaming into the sept, Vaemond and the High Septon made their way to the raised dais of black marble while hundreds of nobles made their way into the septs, a mass of silks, doublets and sigils of houses beyond count.

The coronation went by rather fast, the High Septon did not pray to each of the seven, and it seemed to Vaemond that the man scarcely mentioned them at all, only making cursory references while anointing Vaemond with the holy oils.

‘’Just as a knight has the duty to protect the weak and innocent…so too does a King have a duty to protect his subjects.’’ The High Septon said, anointing Vaemond as a Knight.

Following his appointment as a knight, the High Septon placed his father Aegon's crown, which he had given to Corlys Velaryon before he attempted to save his son, upon Vaemonds head, proclaiming him King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Following this, the nobility of the realm gathered on the plaza of the Starry Sept for a feast to celebrate the King's Coronation, the same plaza his father had held his coronation feast near two decades prior.

Plaza of the Starry Sept

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard led the long line of nobles which snaked through the plaza of the Starry Sept, winding around tables and chairs.

The feast, which had gone on for several hours, had finished and it was now time for oaths of fealty.

Corlys Velaryon approached the Kings table ‘’As commander of your Kingsguard allow me to be the first to swear my sword to you…..on behalf of my sworn brothers…my loyalty..and theirs…is yours to rely upon.’’

He then drew his sword and knelt.

‘’Rise Lord Commander….as paramount knight of the realm and my truest ally.’’ Vaemond said, gesturing the older man to his feet.

Next had come the Lord Paramounts, all of whom were present save for Vickon Greyjoy, and Brandon Stark of the North, who had sent Theon Tallhart, his castellan to swear fealty in his place, with the castellan explaining that while his liege lord would uphold his vows, he had no plans of attending the coronation due to the circumstances of King Vaemonds birth.

Harlan Tyrell was next, his red hair rapidly fading into gray, but he still made for a dignified sight wearing a green doublet with golden silk thread.

‘’Lord Tyrell.’’ Vaemond nodded.

‘’Your Grace…on behalf of my bannermen I do swear fealty to you…the knights of the Reach and all their chivalry are yours.’’ The aging man said.

Vaemond nodded ‘’I would have more than just your oath if you would be agreeable my lord….you served my father well for many years, even as a child that was apparent….my mother erred when she dismissed you….I can only apologize for the circumstances of your dismissal and would name you master of coin…should you accept.’’

Visenya, who was seated at her sons right reddened at that but Harlan Tyrell nodded ‘’It is true it was poorly done to send me away….but I accept the position your Grace…I shall return to the capitol within the month, once I finish my affairs here.’’

Next had been Orys Baratheon, who had shared a jest with the new King, while Vaemond confirmed his position as hand of the King.

The pledges of Deria Martell and Loren Lannister were courteous and formal, if uneventful, with Loren being quiet and soft spoken and Deria Martell was clearly still mourning the death of her hedge knight husband.

Ronnel Arryn, once his pledge was complete had promised that now that King Vaemond had officially ascended into his throne he could make preparations to end the Vales war against the Three Sisters pending a royal request. The war had been started,and all but demanded in truth by his vassals, with attempts by the Queen Regent failing to end the conflict due to lack of true royal power.

Vaemond suspected that his royal demand to end the fighting would only serve to save face for the Knights of the Vale, who had surprisingly made few gains against the Sistermen over several months of conflict, with the Sisterman fiercely defending their land but he promised Ronell he would make arrangements for the royal command all the same.

The final Lord Paramount to pledge loyalty was Samwell Tully who was also the news to inherit the role. Vaemond had been prepared to offer Edmyn Tully his former role as Master-of-Laws, but the Lord of the Trident had died only months prior, leaving his son as the new lord.

Following the young Riverlords oath of fealty came the other nobles of the realm, with this taking place over several hours, with most lords oaths only taking a minute at most, yet there were still some important conversations to be had.

At the forefront of the group was Nestor Royce, Lord of Runestone and father of Demerei Royce, who was married to the King's brother Matarys.

The Lord of Runestone approached, dressed simply in a woolen doublet, looking every bit a warrior.

‘’Lord Royce….I witnessed your victory at the tourney of Kings Landing and even as a boy I was told of your martial prowess and reputation as the Vales master of arms and my brother has become a man of honor under your guardianship, I would offer you the same role as Marshal of my Kingdoms.’’ Vaemond had told the man, and the Lord of Runestone had accepted the offer with a humble bow, stating how it would be good to be close to his daughter and future grandchildren.

The only other appointment Vaemond had made was offering old Rickard Stokeworth the position of master of laws, the man was over 60 and likely didn't have many years left but he was well respected and would do good to cement first impressions for the new King's reign.

The oaths of fealty went on till late in the evening, and when finished the Targaryens withdrew to their chambers in the Hightower with plans to remain in Oldtown for one more day.


The Following Morning
Solar of the Hightower

The morning light lazily made its way through the glass windows of the Lord Hightowers solar, which he had graciously allowed the newly assembled small council to convene for their first meeting. It would take some time for all the lords of the small council to wrap up their affairs to be able to venture to the capitol so this would be the only meeting for quite a while, and there was much to discuss.

When everyone had gathered, the meeting began.

‘’My lords…..I would know of the affairs of the realm, my mother has kept me apprised of the violence in the Vale and the Iron Islands, but not to the level a King must be.’’ Vaemond began.

Rickard Stokeworth nodded, he had consulted with the Maesters on the citadel to prepare himself to advise the King on such short notice.

‘’The violence in the Vale is fairly straightforward, Ronnel Arryns vassals all but demanded an attack on the Sisters but have made little strategic gains, the Sistermen even sailed to the Vale itself and took a small fortress on the fingers….but the war will end once the lords of the Vale hear they were given royal command to cease their attack.’’

Rickard continued, explaining how House Donniger of the Vale had disrupted the peace of the Vale by conquering the small island of the Paps and displacing House Elesham in the process, and had continued their aggression by attacking the Lynderlys of Snakewood, though it appeared House Lynderly was managing to hold off the aggressors.

‘’I suppose there is little we can do but let the war run its course…House Donniger has managed to find claims on the land, it is their right to wage war, we can only hope the Lynderlys hold them off ’’ Vaemond sighed.

‘’What of the Iron Islands….I hear they are awash in violence’’ Vaemond asked.

‘’Unlike the situation in the Vale it is much harder to ascertain the cause of the fighting; it is a mixture of clan feuds and family claims, as well as religious tension as around half the populace of Orkmont has converted to the faith of the seven….Vickon Greyjoys youngest son was slain in the fighting I hear.’’ His mother Visenya answered.

‘’The Ironborn have never needed an excuse to turn on eachother I suppose.’’ Vaemond mused.

‘’Your father agreed that sometimes a little violence in the Islands was a good thing…keeps them occupied.’’ Visenya said.

The young King nodded ‘’Still we must find a way to keep them in the fold somehow….Send Lord Vickon a raven offering him the position of Master of Ships, he need not remain in the capitol permanently or even arrive until his lands find peace.’’

Grandmaester Arlan nodded and wrote down the command on a piece of parchment, he would be sending a good deal of ravens before they departed Oldtown.

‘’It seems House Yronwood has made an unlikely recovery as well, their house will live on.’’ Lord Stokeworth said.
‘’I thought Lady Yronwood was past childbearing age?’’ Vaemond said with surprise.

‘’She is, and her two children were born into house Vaith, her husband's house, but to ensure the survival of the house, the boy Ser Gascoyne and his sister took the name of their mothers house, House Vaith was displeased as Yronwood was set to be inherited into their family but the house will live on.’’ Rickard explained.

‘’If their house continues they may seek revenge for the death of their kin.’’ Vaemond said with a frown.

Visenya shook her head ‘’I have been aware of Lady Yronwoods plot for a while now and had the boy watched, he does not seem the sort to seek revenge for a matter that has been settled, and what's more the Dornish learned what happens when the road of revenge is chosen.’’

Lord Tyrell shared what information he had through his trading networks in Essos, and as usual, the Free Cities were at each other's throat. The Free City of Lorath had fractured into two during a civil war, with the Island proper splitting from its overseas colonies, and a Braavosi had managed through war and intrigue to ascend to the role of Magister of Pentos and the entirety of the Pentoshi nobility had risen up against him.

Following the briefing of affairs both close to home and in the east, Vaemond had several other matters to lay before the council.

‘’Lord Stokeworth, I want gifts sent to Brandon Stark and Deria Martell, i'll leave it up to you to decide whether its best sent in gold dragons or jewels and the like, Lord Tyrell will see you are given what you need to deliver them personally’’ Vaemond commanded before continuing ‘’See Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood is given a gift as well, I could use support close to the capitol.

‘’It will be as you say your Grace.’’ Stokeworth replied.

‘’A King should not need to send gifts to inspire loyalty…your father had no need for such ploys.’’ Visenya said pointedly.

‘’Father also had a hundred foot dragon….Moondancer is but the size of a small dog, growing yes but I do not wield the same type of power as he did, nor the same respect, the purpose of gold is not only to to increase one's power and influence but also to keep it…that is what these gifts will do.’’

‘’Well spoken your Grace.’’ Lord Stokeworth said, earnings glare from Visenya.

‘’One final matter….it concerns the state of Dragonstone, my family's ancestral seat….it is not sufficient and I am prepared to make considerable efforts to improve the lives of those living there.’’ Vaemond began.

He turned to Grandmaester Arlan ‘’The Grandmaester and my mother have both advised me that the island could benefit from the introduction of roads to connect the small fishing hamlets as well as the castle of Dragonstone to the keep of Windwyrm, I remember it was a tough ride when I toured the island with my father some years ago….Lord Tyrell, I trust you will make the preparations upon your arrival to the capitol.’’

Harlan Tyrell nodded ‘’I shall see to it your Grace.’’

‘’That is not all…..I remember the village of Derlyn well from my visit, the smallfolk were hospitable to both me and my father, despite their small means, it is in truth a tiny village but given that the smallfolk have served my ancestors for well over a century, I would see them rewarded…Lord Tyrell, have builders sent to construct a small harbor to host traders from the Narrow Sea and have a few fishing galleys built for their sustenance.’’ Vaemond commanded.

Harlan Tyrell ran a hand through his mustache ‘’I will see it done, but such things are expensive.’’

‘’The cost is of little import, just see it done.’’ Vaemond said curtly..before rising to his feet, causing the rest of the small council to do the same.

‘’Thank you for your council my lords, it has been a productive one….we can adjourn for today, and shall meet again in the capitol once you have all settled your affairs…Lord Commander Corlys, please track down my brother and have him sent in.’’ Vaemond said, nodding farewells to his small council.

Some time later, Matarys entered the chamber and Vaemond gestured to the seat in front of him.

‘’I trust you have been enjoying Oldtown…we leave upon the morrow.’’ Vaemond asked his brother.

His brother wrinkled his nose ‘’It is a fine city but….the hypocrisy of the faith knows no bounds….they preach of charity and good deeds but live in manses upon the steps of the sept.’’ His brother said with disdain.

‘’You are right….but you must do a better job of concealing your disdain….angering the septon at Kings Landing is one thing but best keep your thoughts to yourself in this city.’’ Vaemond said not unkindly and his brother nodded.

‘’You are almost a man grown….it's time to think about your future.’’ Vaemond said to his younger brother, who was only one year younger than Vaemonds 16 years.

‘’I would give you Dragonstone Matarys…..it was our ancestral seat, and now it would be yours…you would have your own household, cooks, knights, handmaidens to help Demerei.’’ Vaemond began but his brother interrupted him.

‘’No…No…I don't want it…I won't take it.’’ Matarys said almost frantically.

‘’You are a Targaryen prince…things are expected of you.’’ Vaemond said with a frown.

‘’I don't want things to be expected of me…I don't want to be a lord….I could never punish peasants or demand taxes…id be no better than the faith.’’ Matarys said, the words spilling out.

Vaemond raised his hands to calm him, a little disconcerted by his brother's outburst. ‘’I won't force you Matarys..just..just think about it.’’

After his brother had left, he was about to leave and make preparations for the trip back to King's Landing when Nyel entered the chamber.

‘’Your Grace.’’ She said, bowing her head slightly.

‘’You don't have to call me that.’’ Vaemond said, for what felt like the 100th time, his sister had been given an education centering around court life and her courtesies were deeply ingrained into her personality.

His sister did not respond to that and had a strange look on her face.

‘’What is it?’’ Vaemond asked.

‘’I have not yet given you your coronation gift…..’’ Nyel began.

Vaemond raised his eyebrows at that.

His sister lightly laughed ‘’Not that…..but…I'm with child Vaemond.’’

‘’How can you be sure.’’ Vaemond asked.

‘’I spoke with mothers handmaiden Elayana….she confirmed it.’’ Nyel replied.

‘’If we are not married soon….the lords of the realm will see the child as a bastard…..in addition to all the rest they turn their noses at…id best speak to mother.’’ Vaemond said and Nyel nodded.


Later that Day
Solar of the Starry Sept

A Targaryen does not beg Visenya thought as the was escorted through the halls of the Starry Sept by Ser Lyonel Hightower, commander of the Warriors Sons, older and fatter than he had been when she had last seen him but no less eloquent, though the smell of wine and beer adorned him like a cloak.

‘’The High Septon awaits inside.’’ Ser Lyonel said with a bow once they came to the door and Visenya nodded.

‘’Your grace I am pleased to be able to speak to you in person….your leadership in the regency was admirable…please take a seat…there is some arbor red if you would like.’’ The High Septon said, gesturing to the seat.

Visenya made no move to sit down.

The High Septon nodded slightly ‘’Here on business I see…what is it I can help you with Queen Visenya.’’

‘’I will be requiring your services to conduct a wedding here in the Starry Sept.’’ Visenya replied.

‘’And whose wedding would that be.’’ The High Septon asked cooly.

‘’The wedding of my children….one being the King you recently placed a crown on..I trust you remember him…and spare me the sermon High Septon….I know how you and your gods feel on the matter.’’ Visenya said, a hint of the dragon coming out in her tone.

Visenya expected the High Septon to grow angry at that but instead he laughed ‘’My Queen, you give me an honor I do not deserve….they are hardly my gods…I cant claim ownership of them or control their actions….or even guarantee their existence.’’

Few things shocked Visenya but the High Septons nonchalant attitude towards his own faith left her silent and dumbfounded.

The High Septon stood from his seat ‘’I imagine you are shocked by that my Queen…a Septon that is not even sure the gods he supposedly represents are real and if they are, are the right ones….a shock to be sure, but I suppose far more surprising things have happened.’’

‘’I studied at the Citadel for two years before I became a Septon…and in that time I studied most of the gods of the east as well as the seven….marrying brother to sister may be uncommon but it hardly reaches the levels depravity that are often done in the name of religion…followers of the Black Goat of Qohor often sacrifice their own children in times of peril while servants of the Dothraki are killed when their Khal dies to serve him in the night lands…..your marriages are the least of it.’’ The man said.

‘’Why become a Septon if you do not fully believe in the gods.’’ Visenya asked with confusion.

‘’Because I recognize the power and the role of the faith….many times we have stopped conflicts between Kingdoms before your brothers landing, and just as the Crown has a duty to the realm and the faith so too does the faith…It is true I could refuse to marry your children, most of my fellow septons would advocate for it….but doing so would send a message that the faith does not recognize your family as our lawful rulers…and so civil war and the end of the peace your family has brought Westeros…..a state I find rather unpleasant.’’

‘’So instead of all that, I will marry your children…my Warriors Sons will turn their noses and my Septons will whisper…but the faith and the crown shall keep the peace….as one and as is our duty.’’ The High Septon finished.

‘’You have my thanks.’’ Visenya said, scarcely believing her luck, she had expected a long drawn out negotiation.

‘’One final thing…this all seems a bit sudden, and you made no mention of this before….why so eager to marry your children.’’ The High Septon asked, studying her face.

Visenya was silent at that

‘’Ah I see….well he would hardly be the first King…I shall make preparations my Queen.’’ The High Septon said with a nod.

One week later, Nyel and Vaemond were wed in the starry sept, there were whispers of scandal and blasphemy and as the High Septon predicted the Warriors Sons turned their noses at the affair and the Septons looked on disdainfully,, but the peace held.

 

[Midnite Duke]

Is there a gulf forming between the King and his Mother? Will Demerei teach her husband to do his duty? These and other questions may be answered when we next gather with our all-knowing soothsayer. Thank you kind sir.

 

[HistoryDude]

Visenya has the opinion that the Targaryens shouldn't care what their subjects think, and Vaemond disagrees?

The Vale and the Sisters are fighting? The Sistermen have never got along with others. Will there be revolts of the mountain clans in the Vale?

 

[Timewarriors]

Sounds like Matarys is content to be a royal freeloader. Which considering what the average ck2 player usually does to landed family members is fair.

 

[streaker77]

Is there a gulf forming between the King and his Mother? Will Demerei teach her husband to do his duty? These and other questions may be answered when we next gather with our all-knowing soothsayer. Thank you kind sir.

Visenya is fraying at the edges and Vaemond is brutally honest so that doesnt make for a great combination.

Visenya has the opinion that the Targaryens shouldn't care what their subjects think, and Vaemond disagrees?

The Vale and the Sisters are fighting? The Sistermen have never got along with others. Will there be revolts of the mountain clans in the Vale?

As the next chapter will show, Vaemond can care a little too much what his subjects think, to the point of tragedy. The Moutnian Clans have been quiet, but the Knights of the Vale will be apart of a major conflict looming on the horizon.

Sounds like Matarys is content to be a royal freeloader. Which considering what the average ck2 player usually does to landed family members is fair.

Those were my exact thoughts. Matarys will seek out a responsibility in the future however at his own volition, though it may put him in a potentially dangerous situation that was not what he bargained for.

 

[streaker77]

8th Moon, 8020
Tourney Grounds of Highgarden


The tourney grounds of Highgarden were truly a paradise on earth. Warm winds from the mander and the sunset sea brought in a pleasant breeze that mixed with the orchards of Highgarden, which were immediately adjacent to the Tourney Grounds. Scents of a dozen different fruits filled the air and servants delivered fresh tarts and sweet bread to the spectators.

Vaemond, who was seated to the right of his host on the Tyrell pavilion, inhaled the air, feeling the warm breeze on his face as the final two knights prepared for their joust.

It had been a fairly uneventful first 2 years of Vaemonds reign. He did not share his fathers inclination for Royal Progresses, but he had made several unofficial ones throughout the realm, visiting the great seats of many houses to participate in tourneys.

Vaemond was fast finding that he had little talent for jousting, with the current tourney being the only one in which he had progressed past the first day. Still, despite the lack of success donning his armor and entering the lists brought a feeling of adrenaline that he had not yet found a match for.

He had participated in the tourneys of Riverrun, Casterly Rock and Castamere with limited success, though two of his Kingsguard had won the ultimate honors, with Ser Gawen Corbray taking the tourney of Casterly Rock and young Ser Roland Crakehall winning the tourney at Castamere, which Vaemond had dubbed the ‘’Drunkards Tourney’’ due to the sheer amount of Knights that arrived to the lists drunk off of lord Castameres cellar, the tourney of Riverrun had been won by Lord Selwyn Tarth, who had dismounted Vaemonds hand Orys Baratheon.

This current tourney of Highgarden had been called to celebrate the wedding of Theo Tyrell, the new Lord of the Reach, and Rylenna Lannister, second daughter to Lord Paramount Loren Lannister. Theos father Harlan had died after only a few weeks in the capital as master of coin and so the Lord Paramountcy of the Reach fell to his fathers former ward Theo Tyrell, a man of 36 who was just as quiet as Vaemond remembered him being from the short time they both grew up together.

Sitting to the left of Theo Tyrell and his new bride was Loren Lannister, lord of the Westerlands. His golden hair had since retreated to white but the man made for an impressive sight, dressed splendidly in a tunic of gold trim and wearing a necklace of the largest emeralds Vaemond had ever seen, he was courteous but like their host, was a quiet and reserved man and Vaemond had spoken little with him, though he planned to change that shortly.

Vaemond heard a playful gurgle to his right and turned to his sister Nyel, who had their infant son Aelyx on her lap, the little prince, mouth stained with the remains of a pastry clumsily reaching out to a passing butterfly.

‘’I think he likes it here.’’ Nyel said with a small laugh.

‘’He's quite the little traveler already.’’ Vaemond said, he had not wanted to leave his family alone in the capital so Nyel and Aelyx followed Vaemond from tourney to tourney.

Vaemond looked at his son breathing in the warm sweet air of Highgarden and felt an unexplained twinge of sadness run through him, before a sudden remembrance entered his brain.

‘’This is where me and father were headed….after Fair Isle.’’ Vaemond told Nyel, it was an eerie thought to think that, just four years after he was on his way to be hosted in Highgarden by Harlan Tyrell with his father, he had finally made it, but with a son of his own, with both Harlan Tyrell and his father dead.

‘’I wish he could have met him.’’ Vaemond said, looking sadly at his son, the grandson his father had never met.
‘’He has fathers nose.’’ Nyel said happily and the infant gurgled agreement.

Before Vaemond could respond, the trumpets sounded for the final joust of the tourney.

The participants were Ser Eustace Oakheart, a man just as tall as Ser Roland Crakehall and the heir to Old Oak, facing him was a lowborn knight called Ser Arthor, a hedge knight that commanded the city watch of the small village of Fossberry to the east of Highgarden.

The two couldn't have looked more different, Ser Eustace was older, near 40 and dressed in armor of green plate with shining yellow gems, while Ser Arthor looked to be only a few years older than Vaemond, and was adorned in only boiled leather, chainmail and plate shoulders.

In the end however, Ser Eustace's jeweled armor had not saved him as the Hedge Knight sent him tumbling to the ground on the fourth tilt.

Vaemond turned to Nyel as the crowd cheered, somewhat tepidly due to few knowing anything about him ‘’Take note of the man's name….it may be he could serve a purpose one day, I could always use skilled knights.’’

Nyel nodded, and once the man had been given the champions purse, the nobility of the crowd withdrew to the keep of Highgarden for the feast.

Vaemond knew he would not get a better chance than this and approached Loren Lannister, who was followed by several household knights.

‘’Lord Paramount.’’ Vaemond said, causing the Lord of the Westerlands to stop and regard his much younger liege lord with serious green eyes.

‘’Your grace.’’ The man said, his voice quiet and curt.

‘’I would speak with you my lord.’’ Vaemond said, gesturing to a shaded area.

The older man made no immediate move to do so, but after a period of silence nodded to his retainers.

‘’I have an offer…’’ Vaemond began.

‘’You wish to make me Master of Coin.’’ Loren Lannister said coolly.

‘’I do….though I confess I am surprised you seem to know my intentions.’’ Vaemond responded.

‘’I am the richest man in your Kingdoms your grace…..of course I expected your offer…especially in light of Lord Tyrell's passing.’’ The Lannister said.

‘’Then you will accept?’’ Vaemond asked.

Lord Loren was silent for a moment before speaking ‘’I see no pressing reason as to why I should….and before you speak of reward.I have wealth enough for 10 lifetimes, certainly more than you…..your grace.’’

‘’Influence.’’ Vaemond said simply.

‘’I have influence enough.’’ The Lord of the Westerlands said.

‘’In your own lands perhaps…..but you have little in the Kingdoms….the field of fire was 20 years ago my lord…the war is over, but for two decades you have hid in Casterly Rock as the recluse of the west while the other lords of the realm gain influence and power within the new order my father created…..you are apart of the Kingdoms whether you like it or not….my lord.’’ Vaemond said, using the same tone the Lord of Casterly Rock had used.

You are not the only one that can speak sharply, Vaemond thought, studying the man.

Loren Lannisters face did not shift or betray any anger or emotion, his eyes studying the young King like two specks of frozen cut emeralds.

He was silent for a long moment, and Vaemond thought that perhaps he had gone too far, but the Lord of Casterly Rock gave a simple nod.

‘’I will make my preparations…..your grace.’’ The man said before turning back to his household knights and making his way to the feast.

The feast was a marvelous affair, with the bounty of the Reach being well represented in the dozens of courses served, with Vaemond scarcely able to eat another bite by the feast's end, making his way back to his chambers.

As he dressed in a bedrobe, the door to his chambers opened and Nyel stood in the doorway, holding a small scroll with a concerned look on her face.

Vaemond recognized the scroll as one that would be delivered by raven and approached her.

‘’What is it?’’ He asked, sensing by her face he would find little joy in its message.

‘’From our mother….there's plague in King's Landing….she and Orys are doing what they can but she says that a King's leadership is needed in a time such as this.’’ Nyel said.

Vaemond took the scroll and upon reading it nodded his head ‘’We will leave upon the morrow.’’




Four Weeks Later
Small Council Chamber of the Aegonfort


‘’My men are well trained your Grace….and they do their jobs to the best of their ability, but with refugees fleeing disease into the city from the Crownlands we are stretched thin…I am loathe to request more men but.’’

‘’But you will do so anyways.’’ Vaemond finished the thin man's sentence.

Rhaegar Tully nodded ‘’If your Grace wills it…..I would not turn down more men.’’

Ser Brynden Tully, commander of the Gold Cloaks for the past 20 years had officially retired, but not before requesting that his eldest son Rhagaer and his second son be given commands within the city watch, which Vaemond had granted, Rhaegar may have been young and as thin as a corn stalk, but he had courage and honor and was a hard worker.

Vaemond had found his naming curious and had once asked him about it, and Rhaegar had admitted that it was apart of a general trend in the Kingdoms to try and grow closer to the Targaryens and improve their prestige, with a good amount of nobles marrying silver haired women from Essos to try and gain the trait in their own families, and in the absence of his occasionally giving their children Valyrian names.

Vaemond turned towards Loren Lannister ‘’See that Commander Tully is given sufficient funds for 800 new Gold Cloaks, and an additional 100 horsemen…that should be enough to keep the peace.

The Lord of Casterly Rock gave a nod, while Harlan Tyrell had often attempted to advise the young King on the potential downsides of spending large amounts of coin, Lord Loren would simply see it done with no questions asked.

‘’That will be more than sufficient your Grace.’’ Commander Rhaegar responded, bowing deeply before leaving the room.

With that matter settled, he turned to Grandmaester Arlan.

‘’How do the apothecary's fare Grandmaester?.’’ Vaemond asked, some months prior Arlan had come to him with an idea that some apothecaries be built in Kings Landing and Dragonstone to serve the common people, an idea which the King had seen funded.

The Grandmaester ran a hand through his snow white beard ‘’The gods grant apothecaries some small gifts in healing…but when I suggested their construction I anticipated them being able to treat fevers, rashes and water poisoning but little more than that…I fear they can do little against the gray plague your grace…..I fear we can do little but pray for a quick end to the disease.’’

Vaemond shook his head ‘’I don't accept that…..we will do more than just pray Grandmaester…..I want a refuge for the sick to be built…given your architectural experience I want you to personally oversee its construction….Lord Lannister will get you what you need.’’

‘’By the time it is constructed the plague will likely be over, mayhaps it would be better to build it when the pox abides….’’ Arlan began.

‘’It's something that should have been done long ago, it will be delayed no longer…besides the smallfolk should see an effort is being made to protect them….doing nothing could incite riots.’’ Vaemond said.

‘’But the pox.’’ Arlan began again.

‘’I am sure the gods will protect you Grandmaester.’’ Vaemond said curly and the aged Grandmaester nodded and slowly left the room to make preparations.

‘’That was perhaps too harsh….Grandmaester Arlan has served us faithfully….that was unworthy of him.’’ Vaemond said to his small council, in truth he bore the man no ill will but his suggestion that they do nothing but pray had annoyed him.

‘’You are the King…you need not apologize.’’ His mother Visenya said dismissively before continuing.

‘’What you should be concerning yourself with is how best to stop the spread of this plague…..you should shut the city gates for one, as well as the castle gates…..and as unpleasant as it sounds those afflicted with the disease should be dealt with, either banished from the city or killed.’’ His mother said.

‘’I understand your point but that would only seek to start a riot mother…ill hear no more of it….we have enough problems as it is.’’ Vaemond said.

‘’At least shut the castle gate Vaemond…..disease could spread like wildfire through the keep.’’ Visenya said.

Vaemond shook his head dismissively ‘’I won't have it said that the King of Westeros hid in his castle while his smallfolk suffered…..I will be seen.’’

He turned to Orys Baratheon ‘’I want a squadron of guardsman prepared for tomorrow and wagons of bread as well, I'll lead them through the city and distribute it to the smallfolk.’’

Orys ran a hand through his thick black beard, now speckled with gray ‘’A bold plan…and noble, but your mother speaks true….your wife is newly pregnant and your son an infant.’’

Vaemond shook his head ‘’Precautions will be taken, but I wont shut the gates, a King does not cower in fear.’’
Orys nodded slowly ‘’I'll see it done…there is another matter however….The construction on the Red Keep has stalled to a standstill with the plague, the workers are uneasy.’’

Vaemond nodded, after visiting formidable castles such Casterly Rock, Highgarden, and Castamere, he had decided to continue his fathers work on building the new keep since a timber longhall was not befitting of his family's power.

‘’I mean to see it done before my son takes the throne, make sure the workers are fed, lodged, and given half pay until the plague disperses, they are experienced and I do not wish to lose them, it would take time to replace their prowess, they've been working on the keep for years.’’ Vaemond commanded and Orys nodded.

‘’Good now…’’ The King began but the doors of the council chamber swung open and a courier approached.

‘’Your grace…my lords.’’ The man said, pausing to collect his breath, the King raised a hand for silence, allowing the man to collect himself.

‘’Lord Meric Gaunt of the Blackwater has raised a host of near 3000 men and marches on the city, he means to name himself the new lord of King's Landing.’’ The courier said.

‘’Damn the man….there's a plague of sickness in the city and now he wishes to bathe it in blood.’’ Orys Baratheon said angrily.

Vaemond stood angrily, his hands clasped around his chair ‘’This will not stand….I swear it…it will not…Lord Royce, make preparations.’’

The Master-at-Arms nodded ‘’I'll lead a contingent of calvary to his keep, his banners are on the way here so he will be easy to take him, he is an old blind man.’’



5 Days Later
Throne Room of the Aegonfort

Vaemond sat on the Iron Throne, leaning forward slightly to avoid the sharp sword points as the old man shuffled forward, leaning on a cane and helped forward by Ser Garmon Hightower due to his blindness.

The King said nothing, and so the hall was silent as the old man slowly made his way to the throne, the tap of his cane echoing on the timber floors.

‘’Lord Maric.’’ Vaemond said curtly when they finally made it in front of the throne.

‘’Your Grace.’’ The old man said.

‘’I gave you a chance old man…..to call back your banners…and you refused it….you would have bathed the city in blood while the smallfolk died by the dozens from the gray plague….it seems your wits have abandoned you as well as your sight Lord Gaunt.’’ Vaemond said sternly.

‘’I've served your house for 30 years…..your father himself named me the Lord of Blackwater Bay…and it seems to me that the city is within my influence, by your fathers own decree of my authority the city is mine by rights.’’ The old man said.

‘’My castle commands a view of Blackwater bay, do you mean to seize it as well….you know as well as I that you have no pretense over these lands and even less so to set your men upon the gold cloaks that defend the city….you acted out of the blind ambition of a done old man and there will be consequences.’’ Vaemond said bluntly.

‘’I may be an old man but neither am I a green boy….try as you might you are not your father…..you have no victories or accomplishments, you've spent the entirety of your reign being unhorsed by better men at tourneys while i've spent 30 years ruling over the Blackwater Bay boy.’’ The old man said bitterly.

Vaemond had to chuckle at that ‘’Boy is it…..my small council thinks that you are deserving of the severest punishment possible for your attempt to flood Kings Landing with blood while plague is at its very gates….you only seek to condemn yourself further with your own words my lord.’’

The old man grew pale at that.

‘’Nevertheless I will be merciful…I will allow you to keep your land…and more importantly your head, but you have forfeited the right to be Lord and Protector of Blackwater Bay and lost any claim to its incomes and vassals, henceforth, Lord Chelsted of Bramsfort will be Lord of the Blackwater, and you and your descendents will swear fealty to him.’’

‘’Your Grace this is…’’ The old man began but the young King interrupted him.

‘’Silence is likely your best course of action my lord.’’ Vaemond said, and Lord Commander Corlys nodded to the Kingsguard, the old man was escorted out of the hall by Ser Garmon Hightower.

When the old man had gone, Vaemond gestured Lord Rickard Stokeworth forward towards the throne.

‘’Lord Gaunt may be an old fool, but he spoke true…my father was well respected for his victories, but I will always be seen as an unblooded boy until I have victories of my own….I want you to raise a claim on the island of Bloodstone in the Steppestones…I mean to cross blades with the pirates of the Narrow Sea and make my reputation.’’

The old chancellor nodded ‘’I will make the preparations your Grace.’’



Three Weeks Later
Prince Aelyx’s Chambers


Nyel stood at the entrance of the chambers, hands clasped together, almost to the point of shaking.

Her brother Matarys put a comforting hand on her shoulder and Nyel took it gratefully.

Her mother paced around outside the chambers, looking even more tired and distressed than normal ‘’I warned him…I warned him this would happen.’’

Nyel was silent at that, she didn't trust herself to say anything, she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and bile at the back of her throat.

Suddenly the chamber doors opened, and Grandmaester Arlan walked out, looking grim.

‘’Well.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’The rash has spread through most of his face…and in his nose, which constricts his breathing….he…I attempted to remove it with a liquid from Volantis that is oft used in cases like this but…he did not take well to the treatment and I dare not try again…I fear….’’ The old man said, plucking at his beard, eyes filled with sadness.

‘’You fear what?’’ Nyel managed to choke out, the tears threatening to overtake her.

‘’I fear it is in the god's hands now….i've instructed the High Septon and every man of faith in the city to light a candle for your son.’’ Grandmaester Arlan said.

‘’You are the Grandmaester and you would do nothing but pray…save him…he is suffering.’’ Matarys said in disbelief.

‘’I have done all I can…every method known to me, but his body has not responded to any of the treatments, any more and the shock could kill him.’’ The Grandmaester explained.

‘’How long…how long until we know, how long must my son fight.’’ Nyel asked, forcing herself to remain composed.

Arlan remained silent at that.

‘’The queen asked you a question….you will answer her…now.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’Tonight…..will be the decisive night…if he makes it through the night then his road becomes easier…but…it is no guarantee my Queen, he is in dire straits.’’ The old man answered.

‘’Where in the seven hells is my son….he should be back by now.’’ Visenya demanded.

‘’The Kingswood is vast….even with the hunting party his Grace took it will take the messenger time to find him and bring him back.’’ Arlan explained.

‘’All I hear from you are excuses….if my grandson dies due to your failure ill.’’ Visenya began sharply before Matarys put a hand on her shoulder.

‘’I think it's best you leave us Grandmaester.’’ The young prince said gently and Grandmaester Arlan withdrew.

‘’I…I must be with him.’’ Nyel said, her voice thick with grief, turning to her chambers.

‘’Nyel…..there is the risk that if you go in there.’’ Matarys began but was interrupted.

‘’I wont leave my son in there alone….I won't.’’ Nyel said, shaking her head.

‘’It's not just you that is at risk.’’ Matarys said gently, gesturing towards Nyels belly.

‘’Have you given up on Aelyx already…have you!.’’ Nyel demanded, no longer able to stop the stream of tears.

Her mother nodded ‘’You are the blood of the Dragon….and so is your son…go to him.’’

Nyel nodded and pushed open the door slowly, Matarys giving his mother a shocked look but the Dowager Queen paid him no mind.

It stank of decay and medicines from across the narrow sea, but Nyel scarcely noticed, making her way to the bed where her son lay, wheezing and struggling to breath from the hard gray flesh that had taken half of his face and his nostrils.

He looked so small laying there in the bed and scarcely seemed to notice her, his eyes a sickly yellow color, the sight of it brought the tears once again and Nyel made no effort to stop them this time, laying in the bed and taking him into her arms.

‘’My sweet boy.’’ She said, clutching him close to her.

‘’My sweet boy.’’ She repeated as the fatigue of the sleepless previous days and nights overpowered her.



Several Hours Later

Nyel was in the void once again….dark, and cold she slowly made her way forward.

She saw a stag in the grass, with wings like a dragon and fur black as coal bleeding dark blood from a terrible wound.

She saw a lion, old and proud open its jaws, revealing jagged teeth, as sharp and pale as the mountains of the moon in the Vale.

A Lion does not bow The words entered her mind.

She saw her brother's sword Blackfyre, soaked in blood while a dragon burned in the distance, embers floating to the night sky, beside the burning dragon were two cloaks, white as fresh fallen snow smoldering.

Suddenly she heard a shout of pain and the thud of arrows, a familiar yell of pain echoing throughout her mind, her brothers.

Then as quickly as the flurry of images appeared they went, leaving nothing but darkness and a rising sound.

All around her a terrible wheezing sound echoed throughout the darkness.

No..please no Nyel thought to herself, she knew what she would see next.

She heard the shuffling noise and turned and saw the figure making his way towards her slowly.

‘’NO.’’ Nyel shrieked, holding the bundle close to her, attempting to run but her feet betrayed her and she fell in the darkness while the figure made its way forward.

The figure did not bother to wear a hood this time, its cracked gray face and yellow eyes staring at her, utterly without mercy and suddenly it was upon her.

Nyel screamed and shrieked, kicked and bit, pledged and begged but the figure clutched at the bundle pulling, tearing sending icy tendrils through her, but still she held fast until at last her strength failed her and the bundle was pulled from her arms.

Nyel slowly opened her eyes, gentle sunlight streaming through the glass window.

A moment of peaceful ignorance was upon her as the warm rays of the morning sun warmed her face, she stretched and looked down.

Her son, wrapped in a blanket, was not moving, his face caked with hard gray flesh, his yellow eyes open but not moving.

‘’Aelyx.’’ She said, her voice quiet as a whisper as she tried to rouse him but to no avail.

Years later servants would say they were woken by shrieks as if from a wounded animal, running in to see the Queen hysterically sobbing, holding the young prince with only Visenya being able to separate the two.

The heir to the Iron Throne was dead.

Spoiler: spoiler

Four Days Later
Courtyard of the Aegonfort

It was a terrible thing to watch your child burn.

Vaemond stood among the members of the court watching the small pyre and the black and red bundle burn.

The King and his entire family were dressed in black, Nyel was silent as she had been ever since he had returned from the Kingswood, his mother looked even more pale and dark eyes than he had ever seen her, while his brother had tears streaming down his face while his hand was on his older brothers shoulder.

You weren't here. The thought echoed through his mind for what seemed like the 100th time. Even Kings needed breaks from the stresses of ruling a plagued city and the King had organized a short hunt into the Kingswood. He had nearly killed his horse when word of his son's sickness had reached him, riding day and night but still he was too late.

You weren't here The thought echoed through his mind again, the flickering flames of the pyre seemed to stab his own heart each time they crackled, greedily devouring the bundle.

Long after the Septon had said the rites and the crowd slowly left the courtyard, Vaemond remained, looking at the ashes that had once been his son, only Corlys remained, standing vigil alongside him silently.

It was dusk by the time Nyel finally came out, the last rays of the sun retreating from the sky.

‘’Vae….you will catch chill…..come inside….please.’’ His sister said, her voice thick with grief and fatigue.

‘’It was my fault…I….I…my fault.’’ the young King choked out before at last breaking down into tears.

Nyel took him in her arms ‘’Don't ever think that…dont’’

Even his sister's words seemed weak to him, it was his fault and his sister knew it.

You weren't here

Vaemonds hand went to her belly, where the child that would have been their youngest was growing.

He looked up to Corlys, still standing behind them, a pained look on his face.

‘’Corlys…..shut the gates…just shut them.’’ He said.

I will not lose you He thought, his hands on Nyels belly.

Corlys nodded and withdrew without a word.

Vaemond looked out to the dark seas of Blackwater Bay, the sky dark red on black water, the colors of the Targaryen prince who had been laid to rest.

You weren't here The thought echoed through his mind once more, as constant as the tide.

 

[Midnite Duke]

So sad, so un-natural it would seem for a child to outlive a child, but this is an era of high toddler/infant mortality and an epidemic reigns supreme. Beautiful opening picture, what is the origin. Thank you for shepherding, O Great Chronicler.

 

[streaker77]

So sad, so un-natural it would seem for a child to outlive a child, but this is an era of high toddler/infant mortality and an epidemic reigns supreme. Beautiful opening picture, what is the origin. Thank you for shepherding, O Great Chronicler.

Its a tough loss for one so young to endure, but it wont be the last that Vaemond faces. In terms of the artwork, its from the world of ice and fire book i believe, I use quite a few illustrations from there, most have the authors signature but this one doesnt seem to have it for whatever reasons.