Prince Aemon married the daughter of the Emperor's consort, Rhaella.
As the King's second son, his wedding was not arranged with overwhelming pomp or boundless luxury, lacking the grandeur of a great spectacle. Yet the hall was crowded all the same, filled with guests whose presence made the occasion lively and festive.
In many matters, "Brave" Baelon carried a fierce determination never to fall behind his elder brother Aemon—and in marriage and children, he was no different.
...
In the seventy-sixth year of the Conquest, the Red Keep once again hosted a wedding of extravagant splendor. "The Spring Prince" Baelon took to wife his sister, Princess Alyssa.
The bride, only fifteen, was in the full bloom of youth. The groom, eighteen, was bold and vigorous. Unlike their parents, Baelon and Alyssa consummated their marriage at once after the ceremony.
The bedding that followed the feast soon became a subject of risqué gossip throughout the court. It was said that the young bride's cries of delight were so loud they could be heard faintly all the way in Duskendale.
Another girl might have wilted with shame at such talk. But Alyssa Targaryen was not such a girl. She boasted openly, comparing herself to the bold tavern maids of King's Landing—and her words were backed by her actions.
"Baelon and I, again and again," she proclaimed the very next morning, her face alight with confidence and satisfaction. "Tonight, I shall enjoy him all over again. I adore Baelon."
That year, however, the Princess's passions extended beyond her brave Prince. Like her brothers, Alyssa longed to ride a dragon into the skies. Aemon had flown at seventeen, Baelon at sixteen. Alyssa swore to herself she would succeed at fifteen.
Her companion dragon, Meleys, was a magnificent crimson she-dragon. Mounting her, the princess soared high, circling King's Landing three times—a rite of passage that seemed almost compulsory for every Targaryen.
During her flight, hundreds of dragonseed wyverns were sent scattering in panic before her and Meleys.
"She and I were both 'Red Virgins'!" Alyssa laughed boastfully after landing, her eyes shining with triumph and excitement. "And now, neither of us is anymore."
From then on, Alyssa often visited the Dragonpit. She liked to say that flying was the second greatest joy in the world—though when asked what the first was, she would only smile and refuse to answer in front of her ladies.
Meleys was no ordinary dragon. She was the swiftest ever known in Westeros. When Alyssa flew alongside her brothers, Meleys easily outpaced Aemon's Caraxes and Baelon's Vhagar, her speed unmatched, her grace undeniable.
...
In these same years, the Emperor and Empress often exchanged letters with their eldest daughter, Daenerys, who remained on the Valyrian Peninsula.
Through them, Queen Alysanne learned that Daenerys had safely reached Valyria, climbed the Long Stair of the Gods, and met the Elder, a figure like a god-king. She too received the Elder's blessing, her Regalus Left Eye growing even stronger.
While their eldest brother Aegon's Regalus Right Eye granted the power to dissect, study, and replicate, Daenerys's Left Eye gave her piercing sight, dynamic perception, and panoramic vision. Now, it could also channel her inner battle energy outward, releasing beams of light sharp enough to cut through anything.
The Elder set Daenerys to guard a secret passage on the Valyrian Peninsula.
...
Their younger brother, Vaegon, remained a constant source of worry for Queen Alysanne. Yet as the years passed, he began to mature. The part of Regalus's prophecy—that "maidens will flutter around Vaegon like butterflies"—proved true.
Young ladies of the court had begun to notice him. He was no longer the boy overlooked and ignored. With age, and through several talks with his father and elder brother—conversations not always pleasant but still impactful—Vaegon learned at least the basics of courtesy. He no longer spoke carelessly, never humiliating a girl in front of others.
The Queen was quietly relieved, finding comfort in this change.
Still, Vaegon remained unmoved by the attentions of maidens. In his world, books alone held his devotion.
Whether it was the vast shelves of history, geographical works charting mountains and rivers, mathematical treatises filled with logic, or even the intricate pages of language studies, he devoured them all with insatiable hunger, losing himself completely within their worlds.
Grand Maester Elysar, never one to cling too tightly to formality, once admitted frankly that he had given Prince Vaegon a book of erotic illustrations. His intention had been to spark in the boy some interest in women, to break his singular obsession with books through images of maidens with men, beasts, and stranger things besides.
Yet the result was not what he had hoped. Vaegon kept the book, but his behavior remained unchanged. He showed no greater interest in women, only continued to bury himself, steadfast and unshaken, in his books.
...
In the seventy-eighth year of the Conquest, Prince Vaegon marked his fifteenth naming day—just one year from adulthood. As Aegon and Alysanne considered their son's future, they put a seemingly natural question to Grand Maester Elysar:
"Do you think Vaegon might become a maester?"
"Absolutely not." Elysar's reply was immediate, blunt and firm. Then he elaborated. "Consider—does he have the patience to teach a lord's children their letters and numbers? Could he endure ravens, or other birds, kept in his chamber? Can you picture him amputating a limb or delivering a child with his own hands? These are the duties of a maester."
He fell silent for a moment, as though weighing his words, then continued. "Vaegon cannot be a maester. But… he has the makings of an Archmaester. The New Citadel holds the greatest store of knowledge in all the known world. Send him to its library, and perhaps he will discover his true self in that endless sea of learning—or lose himself in it. Either way, you would no longer need to torment yourselves over his future."
The Grand Maester's words struck at the heart of Vaegon's nature.
Just three days later, Emperor Aegon II summoned his son to the study for a solemn talk. Father and son sat opposite one another, the air between them heavy. Slowly, Aegon told him that within two weeks, he would be sent by ship to Oldtown.
"The Citadel will see to your needs and your studies," the Emperor said gravely, his eyes filled with care and expectation. "As for your future, that will be for you alone to decide."
Prince Vaegon answered in his usual, clipped way: "As you command, Father. That is well."
Later, Aegon told the Queen of their exchange. With quiet satisfaction, he remarked that Vaegon had almost smiled as he answered—perhaps in anticipation of the journey ahead, or perhaps in relief that he would finally be free to devote himself wholly to what he loved.
...
Prince Baelon, meanwhile, had not stopped smiling since the day of his marriage. Unless he was soaring through the skies on dragonback, he and Alyssa were inseparable, spending most of their time in their bedchamber.
Baelon's vigor was boundless. In the years after their wedding, many a quiet night in the Red Keep was broken by their cries of pleasure, echoing through the halls as though every night were their wedding night.
Soon enough, that sweetness bore fruit. Princess Alyssa's belly began to swell—she was with child.
In the seventy-seventh year of the Conquest, she gave Baelon a healthy, handsome son, whom they named Viserys.
Septon Barth described the boy with warmth: "What a lovely, chubby child! I've never seen a babe laugh so often. And such an appetite—he drained his wet nurse's milk dry in no time."
Alyssa's bold spirit showed itself once more. Against all protest, just nine days after her son's birth, she bound the infant tightly in swaddling and strapped him to her chest. Then she mounted Meleys and took to the skies.
Later, she boasted proudly that Viserys had laughed through the entire flight, as though he too shared in the joy of flying.
For Princess Alyssa, only seventeen and in the full bloom of youth, pregnancy and childbirth were matters of joy and anticipation. But for her mother, Queen Alysanne, now past forty, the reality was far different.
As an older mother, the risks and hardships were plain. When she found herself pregnant again, her heart held little joy—only worry and resignation.
In the seventy-eighth year of the Conquest, Queen Alysanne endured a brutal labor to bring forth Prince Vaegon. The birth was as agonizing as when she had delivered Prince Gaemon four years before, a near brush with death itself.
The ordeal left her body weakened, forcing her to remain abed for half a year.
Like Gaemon, Prince Vaegon was born frail and sickly. Despite every effort—six wet nurses in succession tending him with care—his fragile constitution never improved.
In the same year, just two weeks shy of his first birthday, Prince Vaegon's life hung by a thread. With no other choice, the Emperor sacrificed one of his own kidneys, refining it into a seed of life and implanting it within his youngest son, saving Vaegon's failing body.
After such an ordeal, the Queen no longer harbored any illusions about her own health.
"I am forty-two years old now," she told the Emperor wearily, her eyes filled with resignation and sorrow. "I have already borne you so many children. At this point, I am better suited to be a grandmother than to go on being a mother."
Emperor Aegon gently pulled his wife into his arms, his expression full of tender concern. Though his divine body seemed untouched by time, retaining the strength and vigor of his prime without the slightest hint of age, his wife Alysanne was slowly withering.
Time's blade had left its marks upon her face, with fine wrinkles quietly settling around her eyes and brows. She was entering the twilight of her years, her youthful radiance fading. Yet the glow of her greatness as a mother still shone on, stubbornly gleaming through the erosion of years.
Grand Maester Elysar observed from the side, saying, "Lady Alyssa bore Jocelyn at forty-six. Perhaps the gods have not yet withdrawn their blessing from the royal house. You may still have a chance."
Unexpectedly, the Grand Maester's words came true. The following year, he brought Queen Alysanne news that left her both astonished and unsettled:
—She was pregnant once more.
In the eighty-first year of the Conquest, at the age of forty-four, the Queen endured great hardship to give birth to Princess Gael. Born in winter, she was called the "Child of Winter."
Some whispered privately that the name symbolized the end of the Queen's fertility—like the coming of winter, when life can no longer bloom. Princess Gael herself was small, pale, and frail at birth, raising fears for her survival.
But Grand Maester Elysar stood firm in his belief. She would not share the fate of her brothers Gaemon and Valerion. And indeed, he proved right.
With the tireless help of Septa Lyra, who cared for the child day and night, Elysar used his Healer's skill and long experience to tend to the Princess, guiding her safely through her most perilous first year. By her first naming day, she was still not strong, but her health was stable and all signs were normal.
Queen Alysanne was overwhelmed with gratitude, offering fervent thanks to the Seven. That same year, she had another cause for thanksgiving: the marriage of her eighth child, Princess Daenaera, was finally settled.
Hardly had the troubles with Vaegon been put to rest when new worries arose over Daenaera's future. This tearful Princess had been a source of endless anxiety to all around her.
The Queen often called her fondly:
"My little flower."
Like Alyssa, Daenaera was small and delicate, standing no more than five feet two even on tiptoe. Her youthful, innocent features made her appear younger than her years. Yet unlike Alyssa's bold and resolute nature, Daenaera carried a fragile, porcelain-like air.
She was timid and indecisive. Once, she had adored a kitten, but after being scratched, she grew terrified of all cats, avoiding them ever after. Dragons filled her with even deeper fear—she would pale at the sight of even the gentle Silverwing. The slightest reprimand could bring her to tears in an instant.
Once, in the halls of the Red Keep, she encountered a Prince from the Summer Isles clad in a feathered cloak. His dark skin made her mistake him for a demon, and she shrieked in terror, her panic leaving a lasting impression.
Her brother Vaegon's assessment of her years before, though cruel, was not without truth. Even the Septa who had raised her had to admit that Daenaera lacked wit.
She had struggled to learn her letters, stumbling haltingly when she read, with little grasp of meaning. Even the simplest prayers slipped from her memory. Her voice was sweet, but she dared not sing aloud, too afraid of misspeaking the words. She loved the beauty of flowers, but after nearly being stung by a bee, she would not step into a garden again, content only to gaze at the blooms from afar.
The Emperor's despair ran far deeper than that of his wife.
"She cannot even speak normally with young men. How is she ever to marry?
Even if we intended her for the Faith, she cannot remember her prayers. Her Septa says that whenever she reads aloud from the Sevenstar Scriptures, she breaks down in tears."
But the Queen tirelessly defended Princess Daenaera.
Her gaze softened as she said gently, "Daenaera has a kind heart. She is gentle and sweet, with a soul of unmatched purity.
Give me time, and I will find her a Lord who will cherish and protect her. Remember—within House Targaryen, not everyone must wield a sword or ride a dragon."
In the years after Daenaera's first flowering, the Emperor's daughter did, indeed, draw the attention of many young nobles. She was in the prime of her youth, carried the noble rank of a Princess, and had a mother who worked tirelessly to secure her a good match.
For a time, Daenaera became the center of attention.
At first, she was especially beloved among the sons of the Emperor's consorts, all of whom felt warmth and closeness toward her.
Daenaera, however, felt a clear sense of distance from them and showed no desire to grow close to these brothers.
At thirteen, she was sent to Driftmark to visit Corlys Velaryon, grandson of the Lord of the Tides. Ten years her senior, Corlys was already a famed sailor, commanding a fleet of ships. He had gained considerable influence in maritime trade, and sailors hailed him as the "Sea Snake."
Princess Daenaera, however, suffered from severe seasickness during the crossing of Blackwater Bay, enduring the relentless tossing of the waves. When she returned home, she complained bitterly, "He loves his ships far more than he loves me."
Her words were not without truth—Corlys's passion for seafaring truly surpassed that of ordinary men.
By the time Daenaera turned fourteen, she came into contact with several attendants of her own age with bright futures ahead of them: Denys Swann, Ser Simon Staunton, Ser Gerold Templeton, and Ser Ellard Crane. But Staunton tried to make her drink, and Crane even recklessly attempted to kiss her lips without permission.
Crane failed in his attempt and was met with a sharp slap across the face from Princess Daenaera. These acts left her terrified and wronged, with tears streaming down her cheeks. By year's end, she made it clear she felt nothing but disgust for these young men.
When Daenaera was fifteen, her mother led her through the Riverlands in a carriage, for she feared horses, and they eventually arrived at Raventree Hall. Lord Blackwood spared no effort in entertaining Queen Alysanne, extending all his warmth and hospitality.
His son, Royce Blackwood, set his eyes on Princess Daenaera and began a passionate pursuit. Royce was tall and graceful, attentive and courteous, and an engaging conversationalist. He also displayed great talent in archery, swordsmanship, and song. With his own beautiful ballads, he gradually opened Daenaera's heart and won her affection.
For a time, their marriage seemed all but settled. Queen Alysanne and Lord Blackwood even began discussing the details of the wedding with enthusiasm.
But all these bright hopes crumbled the moment Daenaera discovered that House Blackwood worshipped the Old Gods, and that she would be required to take her wedding vows before the weirwood.
Terrified, she exclaimed to her mother, "They don't believe in the True Gods! If I do that, I'll surely go to Hell!"
As her sixteenth naming day approached and her coming of age drew near, Daenaera's marriage prospects remained unresolved.
Queen Alysanne was left feeling utterly helpless, while Regalus's patience began to run thin.
On the New Year of the Eighty-First Year of Conquest, Regalus made his stance plain to the Queen: Daenaera was to be wed before the year's end. He even added, with rising irritation, "If she wishes, I could easily find a hundred men to line up before her, letting her choose for herself. If she marries a lord, all the better—but if she prefers a hedge knight, a merchant… even that 'pig farmer' Woodcock, I don't care, so long as she is married off."
"A hundred men would terrify her," Queen Alysanne said gravely.
Regalus retorted, annoyed, "Even a hundred featherless ducks would frighten her half to death."
The Queen asked anxiously, "But what if she truly cannot marry? Maegelle said the Church requires at least the ability to recite prayers, yet she…"
Regalus cut her off decisively. "Then she must become a Silent Sister. But must it really come to that? The world is vast—surely we can find a man as kind and gentle as she is. A man who will never raise his voice at her, never lift a hand against her. One who will cherish her like his dearest treasure, shower her with sweet words, and protect her… keeping her far from dragons, horses, bees, kittens, and those pimply boys she fears so much."
Queen Alysanne solemnly promised, "I will do my utmost, Your Grace."
In the end, they never did gather a hundred men—whether clothed or unclothed.
After the Queen gently yet firmly explained Regalus's decree to Daenaera, she introduced her to three suitors. Each of these men longed for her favor.
Carefully chosen by Queen Alysanne, these candidates did not include that "swineherd" Woodcock. They were either powerful lords in their own right or the heirs of great houses. Whichever one Daenaera chose, she would gain wealth and status.
Among the three, Boremund Baratheon was without doubt the most gallant and striking. Ser Tymond Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock and the gold-rich Westerlands, was unrivaled in wealth. By contrast, the least favored was Rodrik Arryn, Warden of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. At thirty-six, he was the oldest of the three, a full twenty years Daenaera's senior. He had also been married before and had four children with his late first wife.
Even Queen Alysanne had to admit that this short, balding lord with a round belly was far from the dream suitor in the eyes of most young maidens. Yet she explained to Regalus, "But he perfectly meets your requirements. He is kind-hearted and gentle, and he has said himself that he has loved our little darling for many years. I am certain he will protect her well."
To the surprise of nearly every woman in the court—perhaps except the Queen—Princess Daenaera chose Lord Rodrik among the three. She explained to Alysanne, "He seems both kind and wise, like the Father. And he already has four children! I'm about to become their stepmother!"
At her daughter's peculiar reasoning, the Queen could only utter a short exclamation: "Heaven help us!"
When Regalus heard of this, his fury flared instantly. Never had he imagined his daughter would choose a husband so much older than her—nearly a generation apart. For the first time in his life, he revealed such anger before a woman. His eyes burned with disbelief and rage.
In his wrath, Regalus decisively rejected Daenaera's choice. He then ordered attendants to summon Eon, the youngest son of Consort Aerea.
Eon had a gentle face and soft, refined features. At ten years old, he was two years older than Daenaera. From Regalus's past observations, the boy had a kind nature, though he was quiet and shy. He remembered that when Eon had last been introduced to Daenaera, he hadn't dared approach her, only standing silently at her side with timid, bashful eyes.
Regalus thought to himself: Since Eon is reserved and Daenaera is timid, I shall personally ensure this match is made.
With that decision, Regalus issued the imperial decree for their marriage. It was the first forced betrothal he had ever declared within the royal family, and its significance was extraordinary.
When the two children heard their father's decree, they froze, their faces filled with shock and confusion. Their engagement was brief, every detail arranged according to the Emperor's will.
By year's end, Princess Daenaera and Eon were wed. The ceremony was held quietly in the Sept of Dragonstone, a simple and modest affair attended only by their closest family and companions. A grand celebration would only have unsettled the naturally timid Daenaera.
They also dispensed with the traditional bedding ceremony. "Oh, I couldn't bear it. I'd die of shame," the Princess had confessed to her husband beforehand. Eon respected her wishes.
Thus their wedding passed quietly, shrouded in darkness.
At this time in Westeros, daylight had shrunk to only a few pitiful hours each day. The sun seemed a shy and hurried traveler, barely peeking above the horizon before vanishing once more behind the curtain of night.
Time flowed on to the eighty-first year of the Conquest. Prince Aemon celebrated his twenty-sixth name day. It should have been a day of joy and blessings, but instead the continent lay under a heavy pall.
As the New Year approached, the sun—the bringer of light and warmth—failed to rise again.
The world seemed dragged by an unseen giant hand into an endless abyss of night, swallowed by absolute darkness. The familiar light and colors vanished, leaving only…
Silence and fear spreading across the land!~