101 AC

Harrenhal

Aemon Snow was a man on a mission.

A mission to stop his cousin from doing foolish things.

Sadly, this was often a futile endeavor.

As evidenced by her skipping her lessons with the Grand Maester to go watch a Bravosi play in Harrentown. And, all the while the tumultuous Great Council was currently ongoing.

He could only thank the Seven, that he was able to convince her to bring Ser Harrold along with them.

"So, what is this play that you want to watch so much?" He asked.

"Umm...don't know, just needed an excuse to get away from old Runciter", the cheeky brat giggled.

" I heard it was some play about the Tyroshi. Don't remember the name though", Ser Harrold supplied helpfully.

Rhaenyra was a good kid. True, she was mischievous but then all kids are, especially princesses.

She was friendly and open, even diligent and hardworking when she wanted to be.

It was hard to believe the dark path, she would aupposedly go down.

But then the Book had never been wrong. Yet.

Yes, Aemon Snow was not all he appeared.

Although, he looked to be the same age as Rhaenyra. He was not.

He remembered a life before this one. A world of glass towers and metal carriages.

Though, all he had were glimpses of it.

Glimpses, that were fading with time. Maybe, one day he wouldn't remember his previous life at all. Would that be his end, he wondered.

It was from the fragmented memories of that life that he recalled Westeros.

And the Targaryens. And the brutal civil war that tore them apart.

The Dance of Dragons.

All that he remembered, he had written down on a sheaf of parchment.

He called it the Sibylline Book. A book that prophesied the dark tomorrows.

Aemon's resolve was strong. Even though, he was only a four year old royal bastard, he would save them.

But he was no benevolent savior. He would save them. But he would also claim them.

The Targaryen Dynasty would be his legacy.

His Magnum Opus.

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

Aemon was convinced that the princess was a glutton.

The sheer amount of food that she had consumed over the last hour, should have been impossible for a child her age.

They had spent the last hour browsing through the countless makeshift stores, carts and tents that the merchants had erected to sell their goods.

These merchants came from the farthest reaches of the Realm and many also came from the Free Cities.

The Great Council was a grand event, the likes of which, had never been seen before.

Thousands of Lord's and Ladies had flocked to Harrenhal for it.

And these merchants had followed, scenting money and opportunity.

"Aemon, I want one of those cakes. They look delicious", Rhaenyra said.

"Again?" Aemon cried.

Ser Harrold walked up to the merchant selling the fruit cakes, on the princess' demand.

He was a small, scrawny man with a long elaborate mustache, dyed blue, clearly from the Free Cities.

"How much for two of these cakes?" the Kingsguard asked.

"These are not just any cakes, my lord", the merchant said.

"These are Norvoshi Wintercakes from my homeland, truly delectable."

"How much?" Ser Harrold huffed.

"Wintercakes must always be washed down with some nahsa" the Norvoshi said. "For my lord and lady one groat shall suffice."

After Ser Harrold was done paying him, the Norvoshi served us the cakes and the nahsa.

But before Rhaenyra could eat hers, Ser Harrold stopped her and as he had been doing all day broke off a piece and tasted it first.

It seems he was wary of an assassination attempt.

As soon as he was satisfied that there wasn't any poison, he gave Rhaenyra the go ahead.

Who, started devouring the cake, as if she hadn't eaten anything all day.

Of course, being a bastard meant that he wasn't offered any such service by a member of the Kingsguard.

But this also meant, that he didn't have to wait. So, he dug in.

He preferred to focus on the positives.

And for now, he was focusing on the cake.

It truly was delicious.

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The play was called 'The Anguish of the Archon'.

The Bravosi mummers had prepared an elaborate setup.

A massive tent had been erected for the performance. It's canvas made of alternating shades of purple and vermillion cloth.

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Brass braziers burned illuminating the wooden stage, and the pleasant fragrance of incense filled the surroundings.

Even cushioned seats were provided for the rich and the noble, which with an admission fee of one gold dragon per person, everyone had to be.

By the time they arrived the seats were partway filled, already. So, he led Rhaenyra towards the seats around the middle section of the theater.

They wouldn't have a perfect view, but it should be enough for them to enjoy the performance.

But before they could be seated, their way was blocked by another youth.

He was probably around seven or eight years old.

And, with his golden mane of hair and sharp emerald green eyes he could have only been a Lannister.

"Princess Rhaenyra, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance", the blonde fop said, " I am Jason Lannister the Heir to Casterly Rock, and this is my twin brother Tyland".

Tyland was identical to Jason, with the only discernible difference being the severe look perpetually decorating his face.

In spite of Aemon's own silver hair, pale grey eyes and boyish good looks, the golden glamor of the twins, made him feel quite inadequate of himself.

"It is my pleasure, to meet you both as well", Rhaenyra said.

"We happen to have reserved some front row seats my princess", Jason said, "and it would honor us greatly, if you were to join us in enjoying this play".

"I would be glad to", Rhaenyra said, "But as you can see my cousin Aemon has been accompanying me today, so I hope he can join us as well."

Jason had been ignoring him until then, treating him as if he was beneath his notice.

But on hearing Rhaenyra's words, he gave Aemon a cursory glance, sneering down his nose at him.

The stigma of a bastard was truly strong.

"My princess, I do not wish to be untoward, but it is unbecoming of you as royalty to be seen publicly associating with low born riff raff such as him", Jason said.

Upon hearing his words, a change came upon Rhaenyra, her remained expressionless but her eyes had developed a dangerous glint in them, and when she spoke her voice came out frosty.

"You do realize Lord Lannister, that bastard or not he is Prince Daemon Targaryen's son. He is a dragon as much as I am a dragon. And as such, you will treat him with the respect he deserves", she said.

And so miraculously, under the stare of a four year old little girl the much older Lannister boys were the ones to first admit defeat.

Tyland rushed to smooth things over.

"Of course princess, please pardon my brother's foolishness. We would be glad to have Lord Aemon join us as well. Shall we?" he said.

And so, they all took the seats in the front row of the makeshift theater with Ser Harrold standing on guard behind Rhaenyra.

'The Anguish of the Archon' turned out to be a tragedy.

It began with a wealthy Tyroshi nobleman losing all his fortune to the trickery of his rival. Who then went on to rape his wife and sell them both into slavery.

Through many hardships the hero escaped his slave masters and went on to discover a great treasure. Now a wealthy man, he returns to Tyrosh with two goals, one to destroy his former rival and the other to find his wife. And so through many intrigues, not only does he manage to get his revenge by destroying his rival, he actually rises up to become the Archon of Tyrosh.

But his triumph was not sweet. As he found, his wife whom he greatly loved, being unable to stand the rigors of slavery had passed away several years ago.

And so, the Anguished Archon's story ended with him slicing his own throat in repentance.

In spite of being a tragedy, the play was really quiet enjoyable, and he could see that it had actually moved Rhaenyra to tears.

But Aemon's mind was not on the play.

Today, he had witnessed for the first time Rhaenyra's inner fire.

That 'fire', if guided and controlled properly would one day make her an outstanding Monarch.

But if that same 'fire' was left to burn uncontrolled, it could spark an inferno that would end up devouring the entire Realm.

It was Aemon's responsibility to serve as her guide.

And as for meeting the Lannister twins.

That had been quite the surprise, but it had proved fruitful nonetheless.

Jason, was disappointing as a Lannister, a boastful and foolish man, he would prove no challenge.

But the interesting one was his twin Tyland.

He was a shrewd fellow.

Aemon was quiet sure, it was he who was behind Jason's outburst at him.

Tyland knew how to use his brother's brashness as a tool, as he did today.

Without doing anything to lower his own opinion in Rhaenyra's eyes he had managed to gauge Aemon's importance to Rhaenyra.

And at the same time had managed to prevent an incident by deferring to the princess.

He might prove a worthy opponent someday.

Aemon had learned many things today.

Overall, it had turned out to be an eventful day.

He had also enjoyed spending time with Rhaenyra.

But still, for sometime he had been feeling an uncomfortable knot in his chest.

He really didn't like being looked down upon because of his birth.

Maybe, the rigours of life as a bastard, hadn't made his heart completely numb after all.

At least he didn't have it as bad as 'Jon Snow', Aemon thought.

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

Mealtimes, with House Targaryen was always accompanied with a side dish of scheming.

Almost a week had passed by since the day Aemon had enjoyed watching a play with his cousin.

These days, things weren't so festive anymore.

With all the lesser claims having being rejected one by one, now remained only two claims of the original fourteen.

Prince Viserys Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

And today would be the vote that would decide the fate of Westeros.

So naturally, tensions were high. Even they, the kids, could felt the tension in the air.

By Prince Daemon, his father's invitation they all had gathered in the Lord's chambers of Harrenhal to break their fast.

It was a lavish spread, but this was standard for the royals of House Targaryen.

While the commoners survived on stews and broths of dubious contents, they dined only on the finest.

There was warm fluffy bread hot from the oven, served alongside butter and honey.

There were wedges of cheese and blueberry preserves, and rashers of bacon dripping with grease.

There was honeyed ham and softboiled quail eggs.

And, venison steaks spiced with fiery Dornish peppers, spicy enough to sate even a Targaryen's appetite.

For dessert, there were apple tarts, and honey cakes baked with blackberries and almonds.

And, to wash it all down there were flagons of mead and flagons of iced milk sweetened with honey.

Mint tea, had also been made available for Aemma, who was known to have a special liking for it.

"So, have you heard brother? The Dornish have sent a bitch to sniff around." Prince Daemon said.

Prince Viserys, who had been busy slicing off a generous portion of the honeyed ham sat up straight.

"What of it brother? We are at peace with the Dornish, and have been so for decades. There's nothing wrong with hosting a Martell Princess visiting the council as an envoy." Viserys said.

"Ha! Peace with the Dornish!" guffawed Daemon.

"Peace with the Dornish is nothing but a delusion brother. It was they, who felled Meraxes and Queen Rhaenys. It was a Wyl, who cut off Orys' hand. For generations they have harassed our borders. War with them, isn't just a possibility, it is an eventuality," said Daemon.

"So, you would have us war with the Dornish over some ancient wrongs," questioned Viserys.

"Of course not, brother. But know this, the Dornish haven't forgotten the Dragon's Wroth. If they see any weakness in our Rule, they won't hesitate to incite a war", Prince Daemon said, while sipping on his mead.

"I hope it wasn't the Dornish that you had invited us to discuss, Daemon", said the Princess Consort, "Especially considering the vote that will take place later today."

"Definitely not, Aemma I gathered you all here today so that we could enjoy a final meal with my brother, the Prince, since, from tomorrow he will be my brother, the Heir," smiled Daemon.

"You seem to be very confident of our victory, Daemon. What about Lord Corlys?", asked Viserys.

"What about him, brother? Lord Corlys does have mountains of gold, and it is true that the Lords of Westeros care more for their gold than they care for their own wives. But it doesn't matter, in this all the gold in the world will not be enough to win them over", Daemon said smugly.

"Why are you so sure brother? Have you done something to sway their votes our way?", asked Viserys.

"He doesn't need to", Aemma said with a knowing glint in her eye, "the Lords of Westeros will never let a woman rule over them. No matter how much gold, they were offered."

"But Laenor is a man!" exclaimed, Viserys.

"He is only a boy, and that too he is Rhaenys' boy. Rhaenys who was already, once denied by the King. And, everyone knows naming Laenor the Heir is the same as handing over the crown to Lord Corlys. This Kingdom was forged by House Targaryen through dragonflame. I would rather see it burned to the ground, than see a Velaryon sit on the Iron Throne!" Prince Daemon said.

"Surely, you don't suggest war brother? We swore an oath to abide by the vote of the Great Council", said Viserys flabbergasted.

"Of course not, brother. I cannot ask you to break your word. For as they say, 'a man's worth is a man's word'", said Daemon.

Prince Viserys sighed deeply, setting down the cup of tea he had been drinking.

"I wonder how things came to be this way. Rhaenys, and I used to play together when we were kids. Things were so simple back then, and now here I sit plotting against her, my own cousin. Such a sad state of affairs." He sighed, sadly.

Rhaenyra, who had been focused on devouring the apple tarts till then, reached up and grabbed her father's arm.

"Don't worry, father. You would be a kind king, a great king. The greatest king that Westeros has ever seen." she said, giving her father, a gap-toothed smile.

"It seems that I have to do my best now. Cannot disappoint my darling daughter now, can I?" laughed Viserys.

"About that other matter, what have decided brother?" asked Daemon.

Viserys turned, to give Daemon a calculating look.

"If this is about the matter of me naming you my Heir, then this is not the time brother. I haven't even been named the Prince of Dragonstone yet. This is a discussion for another time." He said.

"Certainly, brother. Let's talk about something else then. Aemon I heard, you and Rhaenyra had gone to watch a play a few days ago?" Prince Daemon asked me.

Aemon, had been quietly listening to the conversation while eating his breakfast. So he was a little taken aback at being addressed by Daemon so abruptly.

It wasn't as if Daemon was a bad parent.

He was good to Aemon and treated him well.

He even defended him fiercely from those who would ridicule him for the taint of his bastardy.

But he was very much a hands off kind of parent.

Aemon honestly got the feeling that the company of young kids bored him.

So, this sudden attention was quite unexpected.

Still, he rushed to answer.

"It was a play about a Tyroshi Archon, father. As it was a Bravosi play, it probably has some basis in truth. It was quite enjoyable, a tragedy though. You should have seen Rhaenyra, she was bawling her eyes out towards the end."

"I was not!" Rhaenyra protested.

"You totally were", Aemon said, smiling mischievously.

"Oh! How it is to be young", guffawed Viserys and even Daemon joined in.

As their mirth died down.

Aemon said, "We also happened to meet the Lannister twins."

"Is that so. Did you'll get along well?" Daemon asked, looking at me carefully.

But before I could answer Rhaenyra cut in.

"I didn't like them. Tyland was still polite. But Jason, he was very rude. He even tried to bully Aemon," she said.

Daemon's face darkened, on hearing this.

But before he could do something harsh and possibly foolish, Aemon hastily cut in.

"It's fine father, I dealt with it. There was nothing to it. Just children being children."

"Very well then, I will not interfere. But Aemon, you cannot let them walk all over you. You need to teach them a lesson, that's the only way they will learn", sighed Prince Daemon.

"I will, father. I definitely will." Aemon said.

Breakfast, after that was a mundane affair.

With Aemon teasing Rhaenyra who was once again busy stuffing her face.

And, the adults trading saucy gossip amongst themselves, we enjoyed our meal.

The Council was to meet at noon, in Harrenhal's Great Hall.

And, it would be there, Westeros' fate would be decided.

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

Harrenhal's Great Hall was packed full with nobility today.

With the Great Council convening today for the final deciding vote, over a thousand Westerosi Lords and their Heirs were packed together, behind those great oak double doors.

Of course, Aemon being a bastard was not among their number.

He alongside countless noble second and third sons was waiting outside, crowding the many corridors and courtyards of the Great Keep.

He watched as the noble boys conversed among themselves, trading gossip and making japes.

Not much of a social person and a bastard on top of it, Aemon kept to himself.

He talked some with his cousin Rickon Stark and with Elmo Tully but he spent most of his time observing the young nobles mingling with each other.

He saw Lord Borros Baratheon, the future Lord Paramount of the Stormlands.

He saw, Otto Hightower's son Gwayne mingling with the other nobles from the Reach.

Among them, he spotted one Unwin Peake, who would be the notorious Lord Regent, in the future.

And, of course he saw Tyland Lannister, who was engaged in a conversation with Vaemond Velaryon.

And so they waited, as the Sun dwindled in the sky and noon turned to dusk, they waited for the deliberations to end.

The Sun had begun to set, when the massive double doors of the Great Hall squeaked open.

And out walked, a thin pale man with silver hair and purple eyes.

He was Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen.

It was he who'd presided over the Great Council, by the order of the King.

All chatter had died down with his appearance, and we all waited with bated breath for his announcement.

"The Prince of Dragonstone is Prince Viserys Targaryen. He is the Heir to the Iron Throne." He declared simply.

The crowd erupted in cheers, with shouts of 'Hail Prince Viserys!' filling the air.

And as the surroundings were swallowed in a cacophony of cheers and celebration, all Aemon could think was that the Book was proven right once again.

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