114 AC

High Tide

It was the fortnight before the wedding of the Era. And all the close relatives of the bride and groom had gathered in the High Tide's renowned Hall of Nine.

Named for Lord Corlys' Nine Great Voyages, the Hall was magnificent.

It was in no way inferior to the Red Keep's Great Hall.

Sculpted elegantly in cerulean stone, the Hall mimicked ocean waves. The numerous intricate murals depicted on it's walls, each supposedly inspired from Lord Corlys' sea-faring days.

This was undoubtedly a living testament to House Velaryon's power and prestige.

And today, they'd all gathered here to witness Laenor Velaryon being knighted.

It was the High Septon who'd advised the King, that the future Prince Consort must be knighted, to avoid controversy.

And so that was how, with the Sun yet to rise above the horizon Aemon found himself in such august company.

Laenor had been holding vigil all night at the castle's Sept. So that come dawn, he might be knighted.

In fact King Viserys himself had decided, that he'd be the one to personally bestow the boy, his spurs.

And so it was, they'd all found themselves in the company of a grumpy King sipping hippocras while sitting atop the Driftwood Throne.

"I heard that you're quite close to the Princess, Aemon." Lady Rhaenys asked interestedly.

"You've heard correctly, my Lady." Aemon replied, "I happen to advise her on certain matters."

"Is that so?" She said, narrowing her eyes a fraction.

Rhaenys Velaryon was a true beauty. A ravishing woman that came once an age. She wasn't lacking in brains either. And all this combined with her fiery temparent, meant that this raven haired woman had once been the First Lady of the Realm.

She'd been at the centre of things. Had believed herself the future Queen. Alas, those days were long past. And with the passing of those days and the waning of her beauty, her power and influence had long been lost.

That hadn't sat well with her, and even now so many years later, Aemon could see the thinly veiled bitterness lurking underneath.

But in spite of all that, Aemon liked Laena and Laenor's mother quite a bit.

She hadn't held his bastardy against him, and had always treated him well.

"It is understandable that Her Grace seeks your counsel", Lord Corlys said, walking over to them, "With how successful you've become in such a short time, she'd be a fool not to."

"In fact I'm quite a bit envious I have to say," The Sea Snake said, "You seem to have a golden touch. Everything you touch flourishes."

"You flatter me, my Lord. I've been fortunate is all." Aemon said.

"Be that as it may, I'm quite sorry that Daemon couldn't attend." Lady Rhaenys said.

"From what I gather from his letters, he seems to be pretty busy on the Stepstones." He said.

"That he is, indeed", Lord Corlys replied, "In spite of our best efforts we've been unable to break Ryndoon's fleet. He eludes us at each turn and avoids any decisive battles, choosing to fight small scale skirmishes instead. And all the while, the sellswords keep draining our coffers dry. It certainly, is challenging. Everyday they hold Torturer's Deep is a costly one for us."

"And as soon as this wedding's done, I'll be returning." He sighed.

"Perhaps another dragon might help." Aemon interjected.

Lord Corlys looked at him in surprise. "You intend to join the fray?" He asked.

"I'm the Heir to Bloodstone, of course I did. It's just that I had to get my affairs in order first, that caused the delay. But I'm more or less prepared now. Fort Cailin has been built, the Northern Passageway has started operation, and even the Bank is stable. I intend to join you and Daemon next year." He said.

"That is certainly good news", Lord Corlys beamed, "Another dragon, especially one as mighty as Vermithor joining the War. It might just tip the scales in our favour."

"You're certainly full of surprises, Aemon." Rhaenys said, "Your Bank for instance, that is quite the marvelous idea. Shame we Velaryons didn't think of it earlier."

"Now, now, my love." Corlys said, "No need to fret about such things."

"We might have not started the Bank, but our investment in it has been certainly fruitful." He said, "In just two years we've nearly made back all the money we initially put into it."

"The Bank has definitely made me quite wealthy, I have to agree." Aemon said.

"But even more than that, I'm impressed at how it has helped so many other people to start their own businesses. The Royal Valyrian Bank has caused an economic growth in King's Landing and its surroundings. And soon, I belive it will do the same for the rest of Westeros." He finished.

"That is something to think over", Lord Corlys agreed.

"Who knows, maybe this will help our cities to one day, match the Great Cities of the East in their splendor." He sighed, with a distant look in his eye.

Before Aemon could answer, trumpets started blaring as the giant doors to the Hall of Nine shuddered open. It seemed Laenor was here.

Laenor had changed over the years. Aemon still remembered him as the lanky kid he used to play with when they were both children, but he was different now. Much different.

He'd inherited his parent's regal looks. And with his lilac eyes, flowing silver hair and sharp features he certainly fit the part of Prince Consort, perfectly.

Dressed in only a simple white silk cloak with intricate gold embroidery, he approached the raised dais in the centre of the room.

"My King", He said kneeling down, his rich voice resounding through the room. "The Seven have blessed me. The High Septon has anointed me. Now, it is upto you to either make or unmake me."

"Laenor Velaryon, you're soon to take my daughter to wife." Viserys said, "You will be Prince Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. It is no mean honor, I've bestowed you and your House. And although, many have questioned my choice, I've stuck to it."

"But looking at you today, leaves no doubt in my mind. You'll make a fine husband for Rhaenyra. Together, you'll rule over a prosperous land and a happy people." He said.

"Bring me my sword someone, it's time my goodson became a knight."

As they all watched attentively, the King laid Blackfyre's ancient blade on Laenor's right shoulder.

"Laenor of House Velaryon," He began solemnly, "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave."

The sword moved from his right shoulder to his left, "In the name of the Father I charge you to be just."

Back to the right the sword went, "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent."

Left again, "And in the name of the Maiden I charge you to defend all women."

And so it went, a prayer and a promise to each of the Seven.

"Rise, Ser Laenor Velaryon", The King intoned, "No longer are you just a man. You're now one bound by the Seven. A man chosen by the gods. A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms." He concluded.

Once, the brief ceremony had been conducted and they'd all began to disperse. Most retiring to their chambers for some sleep. Aemon noticed, a handsome red-haired youth accompanying the soon to be Prince Consort.

A knight most probably, he deduced from the chainmail underneath his gambeson catching the light.

From the way he seemed awfully close to Laenor, with his arms twined around his. It was almost as if they were lovers.

Aemon had no doubt in his mind, this must be Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, 'The Knight of Kisses'.

------------------

Lord Corlys wasn't one known to spare expenses. And this was clearly reflected in the lavish decorations of their castle Sept.

Seven altars with Seven gilded statues. White marble floor inscribed with elaborate mosaics. And a magnificent dome of pismatic crystals and spun gold. Rainbow light flashing and shimmering, each time the light struck the dome.

It was truly a remarkable sight, made only more so by the regal couple standing in the midst of it all.

In spite of the coolness he'd noticed in their interactions. It had to be said that Laenor and Rhaenyra right now, were the very image of the perfect couple.

Rhaenyra was lovely in ivory silk and Myrish lace, her skirts decorated in floral patterns picked out in seed pearls.

Her maiden's cloak although slightly frayed at the edges, was a storied one.

As legend has it, this was the same cloak that Queen Alyssane had married King Jaehaerys in.

And the best weavers in the Capital had been commissioned by Viserys to work the fabric. So as to return it to its previous pristine condition.

And Aemon had to admit, they'd done a bloody fine job. A hundred ruby red dragons sewn onto glossy black velvet.

The groom looked nearly as splendid as his bride, in his emerald green doublet with cloth of gold patterns. Over this wearing a sea-green cloak blazoned with the silver seahorse of House Velaryon.

Viserys gave Rhaenyra away to Laenor, as the High Septon invoked the Father and the Mother.

The High Septon had come all the way from the Starry Sept in Oldtown to preside over the marriage.

And had also been quite vocal about it. Saying that his presence had sanctified the union.

Viserys had brushed it all off, when he'd brought it up with him. But Aemon could read between the lines. He knew that the Faith would remain a thorn in their side, unless they were ready to properly deal with them once and for all.

The seven vows were made, the seven blessings invoked, and the seven promises exchanged. When the wedding song had been finally sung and the challenge had gone unanswered, it was time for the exchange of cloaks.

Viserys removed his daughter's Maiden cloak tenderly, as Laenor was handed the folded bride's cloak by Ser Joffrey.

He shook it out with a flourish, draping it over Rhaenyra's shoulders. Leaning close, he fastened the sea-green cloak at her throat.

And so easily, she passed from her father's protection to her husband Laenor's.

They kissed chastely, as the High Septon declared Laenor of House Velaryon and Rhaenyra of House Targaryen to be one flesh, one heart, one soul.

-----------------

The Hall of Nine was packed full of guests in silk, and satin, and velvet.

The Feast had been going on for hours. Twenty seven courses had been served and countless minstrels, singers and mummers had performed.

Aemon had scarcely paid attention to any of it. Somehow, a heavy pall of melancholy had hung over him the last few days.

His spirits had been low, and he hadn't had much of an appetite. Even today he'd turned away most of the courses, tasting only a bite or two.

Instead he'd spent that time observing the other attendees at the Feast.

He saw Ser Vaemond Velaryon, Lord Corlys' brother. He'd chosen to sit on Queen Alicent's side of the high table instead of Rhaenyra's.

He seemed to be in a heated discussion with Lord Redwyne's nephew.

Vaemond was quite the miserly man. Before the Feast had began there had been the gift giving ceremony.

And in that, in spite of being the groom's uncle, he'd chosen to gift only a simple silver goblet studded with sapphires and emerald.

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Lord Corlys had presented them with two beautiful wooden models of a pair of identical dromonds.

"Twin ships for the lovely couple", He'd said, "They'll be called the 'Princess Rhaenyra' and 'Ser Laenor's Choice', if it pleases Your Grace."

Rhaenyra had accepted graciously, of course.

This had been followed by the other Lords presenting their own lavish gifts to the new couple. Each trying to outdo the other.

Viserys had chosen to give his new son-in-law, an excellent thoroughbred destrier. A spirited snow white horse, bought from one of the best horse breeders in the Reach.

Aemon's own gift had been carefully chosen. Aemon had known that both Rhaenyra and Laenor had a special love of music. So he'd gifted them with a high harp.

This harp wasn't like any other harp. He'd had some of the best craftsmen in King's Landing working on it day and night.

It was six feet tall, and made of solid gold. The harp strings itself were also made from spun gold. And it's gilded surface shimmered with gemstones.Seven for each of the Seven Kingdoms.

The sigils of each of the Great Houses were marked upon it. The ruby lion of the Lannisters, the emerald rose of the Tyrells, the opal stag, silver trout, blue jade falcon, and pearl direwolf. All were there, and in centre of them all was the regal Targaryen dragon fashioned in black onyx.

Rhaenyra had been very pleased with the gift, as had Laenor. And both had thanked him profusely for the thoughtful gift.

After all the gifts had been given and everyone was seated, toasts were made and then the feasting began.

Aemon had started drinking then, and he had not stopped.

He felt someone sliding into the empty seat beside him.

"How have you been, Laena?" He asked politely, as the lithe and lissome beauty leaned back in her seat.

The silver haired wild girl he'd known from his youth had changed much. In the time he hadn't seen her she'd blossomed into an incomparably beautiful woman.

Laena was dressed in a revealing gown of pale green samite, with a tight laced bodice that bared her shoulders and the tops of her plentiful breasts. Unbound, her lustrous silver hair tumbled over her white shoulders and down her back almost to her waist. And matching her lilac eyes, she wore an elaborate silver necklace studded with amethysts and pearls.

In no way was her beauty inferior to the Princess'. And from what he'd heard, even at twenty-one summers, the rider of Vhagar remained as fiery a woman as he remembered her being a decade ago.

"Hmph, if you really wanted to know, you should have written more often." She huffed.

"Uh, I'm sorry Laena. It's just that I've been very busy." Aemon said, abashedly.

"Yes I heard", She said, "Father is always full of praises about you. He says that with the Bank and all your other businesses you own. He wouldnt be surprised, if within the next ten years your wealth went on to surpass House Velaryon's."

"Lord Corlys is just too kind." He answered, politely.

"Spare me the pleasantries", She snorted.

They were sitting in companionable silence for sometime, when Laena spoke up again.

"I saw your sister Alyssa, actually." She said, "She's such an adorable little thing."

Alyssa had turned eight summers this year. And on Aemon's request Rhaenyra had taken the girl as her cupbearer.

Aemon could see her even now, the dainty little girl, with silver pigtails, was stuffing jer face with many of the other noble kids in tow.

"If you knew her as well as I do, you'd know how much of a brat she can be sometimes." Aemon replied.

"Please. That girl's an angel compared to how I was at that age." She deadpanned.

Aemon was about to answer her when Viserys' booming voice resounded through the Hall.

"Let us have some dance and merriment." He said, his face ruddy from the substantial amount of wine he'd consumed.

At his command, the servants pushed the tables towards the edges of the Hall, clearing the space for some dancing.

And as the minstrels struck a slow romantic ballad, Laenor graciously led his bride for the first dance.

Soon after all the Lords and Ladies joined the fray as the Hall became filled with music and merriment.

"Care for a dance my Lady?" Aemon said, offering Laena his hand.

"I guess there's no helping it." She sighed, taking his hand as he led her to the dance floor.

As they waltzed slowly, accompanied by gentle melodies sung by the singers, he heard Laena whisper.

"So what are your thoughts in this marriage?" She asked.

"It's a fine match, of clurse." He said, unperturbed, "House Velaryon will become closer to the Crown. This is in everyone's benefit, really."

"Come on Aemon, you've known Laenor for years. You should now his proclivities better than anyone." She said, exasperated.

"I don't know what you mean." Aemon said, carefully.

"What I mean, is that this marriage is a sham." She said, heatedly.

In one smooth motion Aemon pulled her plush against himself.

"Careful, Laena. You never know who's listening." He leaned in and whispered.

And although, Laena looked annoyed she kept her quiet.

"And as for this marriage", Aemon said, "For all our sakes I hope they figure something out."

"Me too." Laena said under her breath, as the evening wound down in dance and revelry.

------------------

The morning of the Tourney dawned bitter and cold.

All morning the Archery Competitions had been held and now following the break for lunch, the Melee would begin.

This Melee organized for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding was a truly magnificent affair. Financed by both King Viserys and Lord Corlys, it had lavish prizes and exotic participants the likes of which Westeros had never been seen before.

There were Tyroshi sellswords, Lysene Pirates, Summer Islanders wielding giant golden-wood bows, and even the famed Dornish spears from tye Red Mountains.

Knights too, had journeyed from the far corners of the Realm to participate in the tournament.

And like them Aemon too had decided to fight in the Tourney.

Although he didn't lack for gold anymore, he did want to test his blade by fighting against the best in the world.

And he was confident in his chances. He'd even asked Rhaenyra for her favour,to wear in the Tourney.

And with his Princess' token - a vermillion silk scarf tied around his arm. Aemon certainly wasn't going to lose.

As soon as the horns were sounded, three hundred armed men charged at each other. Shouting out their war cries they ran, ready to hack apart each other for glory and gold.

As the sound of clashing steel and agonized screams rang through the air, Aemon found himself face to face with two opponents.

Recognizing him from his silver and black armor with draconian features the two of them decided to band together to deal with him.

Not that it did them any good. Aemon moved like lightning. As the giant bear of a man swung his greataxe at him he sidestepped the strike easily. At the same time avoiding the dagger jabbed at him by the thin wiry fellow.

Aemon had chosen a soear for the fight. It's longer reach allowing him more flexibility.

And he used it deftly, with the haft he struck the thin wiry man across the ribs. And as he keeled over in pain he drove the spear point through the larger man's knee one smooth motion.

As they both fell to the ground bleeding and in pain, he retrieved his spear, moving on.

Next Aemon came face to face with a Bravo. Dressed in brightly colored finery, the man wielded a curved slender sword.

As they exchanged blows, Aemon felt mesmerized by the man's swordplay. It was graceful, like a beautiful dance of steel and death.

His blade shimmered in the noonday Sun as it struck at him in a flurry of blows. Each attack woven together fluidly like a choreographed performance. No wonder, they called it the 'Water Dance'.

But Aemon too had learned from the best. His spear moved impossibly fast, meeting or parrying each of the Bravo's strikes.

But still the Bravo was faster, and as some of his strikes slashed at his armor, sparks flew.

Not that it mattered, of course. His armor was plated steel, and unless the Bravo found a chink to slip his blade through, those strikes wouldn't bother him much.

And that was what happened, Aemon managed to overcome the Bravo, before he could wound him.

After that Aemon fought a few other minor knights and lordlings until he met Ser Vaemond Velaryon, Lord Corlys' brother and Ser Darklyn of the Kingsguard on the melee grounds.

Ser Darklyn was courteous enough, and waited for him to conclude his fight with Ser Vaemond first. Which he did, and that too in hardly any time.

He left the repugnant man a shattered jaw and a broken jaw to remember him by.

His fight with Ser Darklyn was far more interesting. And although it was very close it was he, who won.

This was a fight Aemon felt really proud winning. He'd always looke upto the knight. In fact, it was Ser Darklyn, who'd taught him the knightly virtues. Aemon had even squired for the man for sometime.

Being able to best him in a fight, proved to Aemon that he'd truly grown, and was ready to face anything.

Once that fight was over, he saw that the field had been suitably thinned.

Including him, there stood only seven men in the ring now. It would be one of them, that would win the melee.

As he chose Ser Willis as his opponent, he saw that Ser Criston had got into a clash with Ser Harwin Strong.

Since the fight had begun, Aemon had noticed the extreme brutality the young Lord Commander had shown.

He was in a dark mood, and wearing Queen Alicent's token - a green silk ribbon on his wrist. He fought like a man possessed. And with his green eyes full of fury, his morningstar shattering limbs and drawing blood wherever he went. He was nigh unstoppable.

Aemon shook himself out of these thoughts, instead choosing to concentrate on the battle at hand.

Ser Willis Fell wasn't someone he could take lightly. He was an ordained knight of the Kingsguard, and his skill with the sword was well known.

Ser Willis fought like him, intelligently. His style full of difficult to read faints and clever parries.

seeing as their fighting styles complemented each other so much.

Seeing as their fighting styles complemented each other so much, they were truly each other's worst nightmare.

And so ultimately, it became a question of who was faster.

And thankfully, Aemon proved to be just fast enough to turn the tide in his favour, and defeat the venerated knight.

As Aemon prepared for his next fight, he noticed that there were still five knights standing.

Ser Criston had fought brutally, and the supposedly 'strongest man' in the Seven Kingdoms had to be carried off the field with a shattered collarbone and a broken elbow.

Other than the two of them, the twin brothers Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk still remained standing, engaged in a duel against each other.

And other than them, surprisingly, Laenor's lover the Knight of Kisses, Ser Joffrey Lonmouth still remained on the field of battle.

But not for long it seemed, as Ser Criston had already challenged him. And from the looks of how things were going, the fight wouldn't continue much longer.

Aemon was on full alert, if what he knew was correct as it usually was, Ser Criston would fatally wound Ser Joffrey in this fight. He had to stop it, somehow.

He called for one of the page boys in his employ, choosing to discard the spear and instead fight with his treasured sword for the rest of the melee.

The spear had served him well so far, but if he were to win against Ser Criston Cole. He needed the added advantage Valyrian Steel gave him.

Joffrey had collapsed defenseless, his sword shattered by one of Ser Criston's blows.

And as Ser Criston advanced on him slowly and deliberately. His morningstar swinging menacingly in his hands, as he prepared to deliver the final blow.

Aemon stepped in between the two. 'Nightfall' shining midnight black in his hands, he roared.

"Yield!" He said to Joffrey. Who hurriedly uttered the words, as he scurried off.

"You shouldn't have done that." Ser Criston said, from behind his pitch black helm. His voice devoid of any emotion.

"Your next opponent is me, commoner." Aemon taunted, in response.

Ser Criston started the fight with immediate aggression, bringing down his morningstar in a deadly arc aimed at Aemon's arms.

But he'd seen him disarm too many opponents today using that technique, to fall for it. Aemon immediately stepped away from the blow, following with a sharp swipe at Ser Criston's legs.

But he was alert as well, as he swiftly dodged out of the way.

From there on, their fight began in earnest. A truly vicious exchange of jabs and cuts, that left them both battered and bloody.

Finally Aemon found an opening, going for a pulverized blow the knight had overextended himself. And it was that he capitalized on to step inside his guard.

Aemon's blade slashed at him, a river of shimmering jet black steel that cut through his white scale breastplate easily, drawing blood.

As Ser Criston let out an agonized scream, his morningstar struck at him savagely. The power behind it so great, that it would have shattered his skull, if he hadn't used his left arm to block.

And although doing this had saved Aemon's life, it had also shattered his left arm. It was a twisted, broken mess, now. And all he could do was bear the pain as he withdrew, clutching 'Nightfall' in his other hand.

They both knew that they couldn't continue to fight for long, with their injuries hindering them. And so, they both went on the attack immediately.

Ser Criston closed the distance between them, and wielding his morningstar to vicious effect, he fought.

Aemon concentrated on dodging his incessant attacks, all while ignoring the terrible pain in his right hand. Ser Criston too was bleeding profusely, a deep gash visible across his belly.

Ser Criston swung again, this time aiming the morningstar at the back of his neck.

Instead of dodging it completely, Aemon took a glancing blow on his shoulder, using the opportunity to kick out his legs from under him.

And as Ser Criston toppled to the ground, the momentum caused the morningstar to slip out of his grasp as he fell.

Aemon was on him in a flash, and kicking the morningstar out of his reach, he pinned Ser Criston to the ground under his weight.

Pulling off his helm, and laying 'Nightfall' against his cheek, Aemon said.

"I wouldn't mind killing you here, today. That will actually make things easier for me."

"But I'm not an animal like you. So unless you force my hand, I will choose not to kill at the Princess' wedding. Yield!" He said. "Unless, you fancy spending the rest of your days with only one eye."

He just stared back at him, his green eyes cold chips of emerald, emotionless and unflinching.

Aemon put some pressure on his blade, the Valyrian Steel slicing into his cheek and drawing blood.

But instead of screaming from the pain, Ser Criston said, "I yield." His voice flat and lifeless, as he forfeited the fight.

Aemon rose up and as the healers tended to Ser Criston's wounds Aemon turned to face his final opponent Ser Erryk.

He too, seemed to have had a hard fight against his brother and was limping. Still, he would probably be in a better condition than him. This was going to be a tough fight, he thought.

But as Aemon walked up to begin the final battle of the melee, Ser Erryk interrupted.

"No need. I choose to yield." He said, throwing down his sword at his feet.

Aemon had won the Melee. Among the best fighters, and the greatest knights, it was he who'd triumphed.

He might have made Ser Criston a mortal enemy today, but that was going to happen anyways, with how close he was to the Princess.

And disregarding all of that, he'd truly shown his ability today. Never again, would anyone question his skill with the blade.

And with the kind of society they lived in, that was always a useful skill to have.

-------------------

A week had past since Rhaenyra's wedding to Laenor.

And through all that time, they'd had an incessant parade of Feasts and Balls and merrymaking.

Lord Corlys certainly had spared no expense for his son's marriage.

The Tourney itself had extravagant prizes. Aemon who'd won the Melee had won twenty thousand gold dragons.

As for the jousts, they were even grander. With the winner getting a purse of thirty thousand gold dragons.

Aemon had distinguished himself in the lists, winning against several great knights and finishing in sixth place. He would have done better, if not for his busted arm.

And with both Ser Criston and Ser Harwin being unable to participate, it was Ser Darklyn who'd ended up winning the lucrative prize.

As for Aemon, he was busy going over his gains. Many smallfolk had gathered for the Great Tourney and so the'd massive betting pool he'd set up had ended up making him quite a lot of money.

Even after deducting all the costs involved, he'd profited easily over two hundred thousand gold dragons.

And now that all of the hubbub was dying down, with both the smallfolk and nobles slowly trickling away from Drftmark, he was tallying the numbers one last time.

It was then that the doors to his chambers were suddenly pushed open, and in rushed a silver haired little girl in a sky blue dress.

"Aemon! I'm bored, play with me." She said.

"What is it now, Alyssa?" He said, sighing.

His sister was sorely lacking in manners, Aemon mused.

"I'm bored, everyone's busy. I was supposed to play with Micah, but his father is training him." She said, sulking.

"Bill's son? I didn't know you to were friends." Aemon said, "Well anyways, there must surely be someone else you can play with, other than him."

"What about Princess Helaena?" He said, "I heard you say, that you two were friends."

"I would play with her, but she and the other royal children have to attend the Grand Maester's lessons." Alyssa answered.

"I don't know then." Aemon said, "Perhaps, go riding on Tessarion?"

"Tess is hunting." She said, pulling at his arm, "Please. Let's do something."

"I have work, Alyssa." Aemon sighed, "But if you're really that bored, you can read one of my books. I have plenty of good ones." He said, gesturing to the his nearly overflowing bookshelves.

"No, thank you." She said, glaring at him.

"Now, don't be like that. Books can be quiet interesting." Aemon said, in protest.

Instead of answering, she walked over to the weapons rack and pulled out his sword,"Nightfall'.

"Be careful with that." He cautioned, "Valyrian Steel will cut through skin, like a knife through butter."

"I know." She said, "I may be only eight years old, but I'm no clueless child."

"Fine then, I guess I did have my first taste of real steel at your age. It wasn't Valyrian Steel though", Aemon muttered, returning his concentration to the work at hand.

And like they sat for sometime, Aemon crunching his numbers and Alyssa trying to mock fight with his sword.

Not that she succeeded, that sword was too heavy for someone of her slight frame.

But suddenly this peaceful quiet was disrupted, when there was a knock on the door.

As soon as he said, "Come in, please," Rhaenyra rushed in.

She was as beautiful as ever, dressed in a flowing dress of green samite with silvered sandals on her feet, and a belt of black-and-white pearls tied around her waist.

"I have something I need to discuss with you, Aemon." She said, "This cannot wait."

"Oh! Alyssa you're here too." She said, noticing Alyssa.

"Um, could you give us some privacy. I need to discuss something important with your brother." Rhaenyra said, politely.

Seeing that Alyssa wasn't that much inclined to leave, Aemon intervened.

"Alyssa go to your rooms, I'll talk to you later." He said, motioning her to leave.

And as she left the room sulking, Aemon turned to Rhaenyra.

"Yes, how may I help you Princess?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb the two of you." She said, contritely.

"It's fine Princess, I'll visit her later." He said.

"Why don't you have a seat, and tell me your problem?" Aemon said, motioning her towards the seat across from him.

"As I told you, Laenor has no interest in me. He's friendly and considerate, but he doesn't wish to lay with me. Not even for the sake of his House." Rhaenyra said, dejected.

"I was afraid of that." He muttered, "But if that's the case, you must find a lover. You need Heirs Princess. Especially now, that Queen Alicent's sons are growing up. Your succesion needs to be unshakable. And it won't be, until you have your own Heirs."

"It isn't that easy Aemon. I can't just sleep with any man." She replied.

"Then find someone to your liking. Someone worthy of siring your children, and preferably someone with Valyrian features. We don't want any rumors about their parentage." Aemon said.

"How about Ser Harwin?" She asked innocently, "He seems like a strong, powerful man."

"I told you, it has to be someone with Valyrian features. Ser Harwin Strong is the farthest thing from a Valyrian." But before he could go on a tirade, Rhaenyra started laughing.

"It was a joke Aemon", She said, between all her giggling. "I wouldn't choose him, of course."

As Aemon sighed in relief, he said, "There are plenty of dragonseeds on Dragonstone and Driftmark. Take your time and choose one of them. And that will be good enough."

Soon after, Rhaenyra left and Aemon returned to his work with renewed fervor. As always there was too much to do and too little time to do it in.

He had all his meals brought in, as he spent the rest of the day working without any further interruptions to bother him.

In the two years since it's inception the Bank had earned him considerable dividends. As had his other businesses.

He'd expanded all through Westeros, his establishments popping up in every city and town across the Seven Kingdoms. From taverns, inns, gambling houses and brothels, to fleets of trade ships, farmlands and mines. Aemon owned it all.

And other than Lord Corlys Velaryon and the newly named Lord Jason Lannister, there were none wealthier than him in all the land.

It had taken him close to ten years to get there, but now he truly was a powerful High Lord. And to think, he'd been a mere bastard boy a few years past.

The sun had long set by the time, he was done with his work. And just as he was getting ready for bed, there were three sharp knocks on his door.

"What is it?" Aemon asked, as one of his guards slid the door open, partway.

"It's message from Princess Rhaenyra. She asks for your presence in her chambers, immediately." He said.

"Fine, let me get ready." Aemon said dismissing the guard, as he wondered why would the Princess call for him so late.

Regardless, he put on his midnight black cloak with mother-of-pearl accents, before leaving his chambers.

It was a long walk to the Princess' chambers, located in one of High Tides' sea facing towers. And as he walked, his mind started to wander.

High Tide truly was beautiful. All polished marble, and silver and gold. Countless tapestries adorned it's walls and the full moon visible from its open balconies only made it look all the more magical.

It was sometime later, that he reached the Princess' chambers, after climbing a long twisting staircase to the very top.

Here, one of the Princess' maids let him in.

"The Princess is waiting for you in the bedchamber." She said, withdrawing.

And although Aemon was confused, as Rhaenyra always met him in the parlour. He stepped into her bedchamber.

And what he saw, made him come to an immediate standstill.

Still frozen in place, he saw Rhaenyra sitting on her canopied bed, naked as the day she was born.

Her long silver-gold hair was braided with pearls both black and white. And adorning her neck was a red gold necklace set with rubies. But the rest of her, was bare.

Her skin seemed to be glowing in the candlelight. And as she started walking towards him, he saw her in full.

Her full breasts and pink nipples, swaying as she walked. Her slender figure and plump buttocks. Her legs well muscled, the hair at the juncture of her thighs a brighter silver than that on her head.

She was perfect in every way. And seeing her like that, Aemon felt himself grow rock hard.

"W-What is this, Rhaenyra?" He stuttered.

"I choose you, Aemon." Rhaenyra said.

"You told me to choose a man I like. A man worthy to sire my children. And I can't think of anyone better than you." She said.

"You've been by my side, since we were children. And even now so many years later, you've continued to advice me, to help me. It is you I want." She said, "Be my lover, Aemon. Your Queen commands it."

"Oh" was all Aemon had time to say, as she pulled him close and wrapping her arms around him, pressed her lips against his.

She smelled of flowers, like the heady sweet perfumes of Lys. And as her naked breasts were pressed against him, he felt her nipples stiffen.

He found his arms moving on their own, one holding her by the shoulder as the other slid down her spine to the small of her back.

And as his mouth opened, and their tongues met they kissed passionately. Their kiss was hot and wet, her mouth sweet like summer wine.

It was a long kiss, though how long Aemon couldn't say.

And finally when they broke away gasping, Aemon tried to mutter some protests.

"This isn't right Princess. We shouldn't be doing this." He said, but even to him it sounded feeble.

"Don't you dare reject me, Aemon Blackfyre. I've seen how you look at me. You want this as much as I do." She said, starting to undress him.

In that she was right, he did want this. He'd wanted this for a long time he thought, as Rhaenyra unlaced his breeches.

From there on, it was all a blur. And before he knew it, they were lying on the bed, and he was entering her.

As he started thrusting into her gently, he felt Rhaenyra's legs wrapping around his back drawing him closer.

He took her nipple in his mouth and bit it until she gasped, and then they were kissing again. Their lips locked in fiery passion as they made sweet, sweet love.

Rhaenyra was beautiful, her silver-gold hair spilling free, framing her heart-shaped face like a halo.

"I care for you so much, that it frightens me sometimes." He whispered.

"Me too." She answered, reaching up to touch his face gently.

Their bodies were joined, as were their hearts, as they spent the rest of the night making love.

And when morning came, and Aemon found Rhaenyra sleeping in his arms, peacefully. He felt fulfilled for once.

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