23

Chapter 23: Interlude: AemmaNotes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Religion is a leash. Use it to hold others, but do not let it hold you."

-Warden of the West, Lady Paramount Cersei Lannister, the Acerbic Lioness

105 AC, Queen's Ballroom, Maegor's Holdfast

Aemma watched as her nephews and nieces danced through the Queen's Ballroom, tripping over one another's feet and tumbling into each other. Despite their clumsiness, they were doing quite well, considering that it was their first dance lesson. In fact, two of them, Rhaegar and Daenys Fyre, were practically naturals at that, gracefully waltzing around the room with ease. While others...

Aerion tripped over his own feet, sending him and Baela Fyre tumbling into the ground in a pile of limbs. The two six-year-olds immediately descending into petty bickering and slapping before Bell Fyre kicked them both apart, their older sister haranguing them back into line.

Aemma was actually quite fond of the Dragonseeds, big playful family that they were. It was a realisation that startled her. She was raised in the Vale of Arryn, where the Andals first came into Westeros, and where the Light of the Seven still shone the strongest.

Bastards were inherently of weak moral fibre, the Seven Pointed Star stated. Born out of weakness of the heart and soul, instead of love, thus making them covetous and treacherous. Aemma should have hated these baseborn children. For threatening her child's inheritance and House Targaryen's legitimacy, but she could never bring herself to.

How could she, when her own daughter threatened her with death should she birth another child? While twins Vaelon and Baelon put their ears on her belly and excitedly asked when they could see their new cousin.

How could she, when her own daughter coveted her own brother's rightful inheritance? While Daena, Bell, Shaeterys and Rhaegar gave sincere condolences to her husband, claiming that they felt his pain. They only had to control their seventeen younger siblings, while Viserys had to control Seven Kingdoms. And when he offered them the chance to try on his crown, all of them fervently refused. Unlike Rhaenyra whom only gave it back the next morning.

How could she, when her own daughter manipulated her own father into killing his brother? While Haegon cried for days because he felt guilty for tattling on Aerion. Daemon's death was a painful necessity, the man was a danger to them all, and she prayed daily that the Gods would forgive her for her one moment of craven weakness, when she supported her daughter in her manipulations.

How could she, when her own daughter never visited any Sept unless she wanted to manipulate the Faith? While every Dragonseed accepted a baptism and prayed piously every seventh day.

No. The Gods had played a sick jape on her, giving her a child as envious and grasping as twenty bastards, while giving her vile goodbrother twenty bastards that were as loyal and kind as trueborn children. Rhaenyra could never sit the Iron Throne, lest the realm bleed.

Already, her devilish nature was showing. She had opened Aenar's Secret Vault, and brought back forbidden knowledge. Knowledge that the Gods did not grant to men, knowledge stolen from them by their arrogant Elder Children. Why else would the Doom have befallen Valyria, if not for the Elder Children's hubris? The same hubris that was present in her daughter.

The forbidden knowledge was bad enough, but even worse were the foul sorceries. Magic was the taint of the wicked and craven, with only savage pagans and heathens stooping low and partaking in it. Yet, her daughter desired to set up an academy for sorcerers on Dragonstone, laughing at the consequences. Unheeding of the lesson the Gods taught Visenya Targaryen, for her grave overreach and theft of her nephew's rightful inheritance. Her line died out, her son cursed to be barren.

Even worse was her depraved relationship with Laena Velaryon. To think that her daughter's depravity and lusts would corrupt even an upstanding highborn lady from such an illustrious lineage. Aemma had despaired and wept for the corruption in her daughter, before doing the right thing and informing Lord Corlys, such that he may pry his daughter away from Rhaenyra's clutches before young Laena grew as twisted and vile as her daughter.

Aemma wept at the necessity, but there was no choice. Rhaenyra would break the Seven Kingdoms irreparably, to remake it in her own image instead of what the Gods rightfully decreed.

That was why Aemma stood so fervently against her own child. Her son would inherit the throne, his sister married off to a faraway lord to prevent her from corrupting him. He would be pure and kind, anathema to Rhaenyra's lust for power and wickedness. And even should all of Viserys' sons die before their father, she'd petition her husband to crown Laenor Velaryon over Rhaenyra.

Or mayhaps Shaeterys Fyre. Daemon's eldest son was precocious and dutiful, a good influence and a firm hand over his younger siblings. He'd make a good king, even if he would hate her for giving him a crown he did not want.

Just then, there was the sound of a horn blaring. Once, twice, thrice.

Dragons approaching. The city watchtowers reported.

The system began from a complaint about the long waiting time for unchaining and saddling the dragons by Laena. The Velaryon scion had politely asked if the Dragonkeepers could somehow foresee her arrival and have Vhagar unchained and saddled by the time she got there. This one polite request had led to the Dragonkeepers losing their temper and pointing out that having to stable a dozen dragons all at once was arduous work. Especially since they couldn't foresee when she'd take them all out for a flight and when they'd return. A shouting match ensued, with Laena calling the Dragonkeepers lazy and dumb, while the Dragonkeepers called Laena demanding and snobbish.

Thankfully, the two Dragonseeds that Laena was taking out for a flight had the sense to grab their second cousin and retreat before it came to blows. Still, a formal complaint was submitted to the Small Council by the Dragonkeepers the very next day, outlining the problem and demanding a solution.

Thus, Lord Hand Otto had ordered the city watchtowers to blow their horns thrice whenever they spotted an approaching dragon, to notify the Dragonkeepers to make ready to stable the dragon. A similar system had been implemented in the Red Keep. Whenever a dragonrider left the Red Keep for the Dragonpit, a single long horn blast would be played, followed by a specific number of shorter blasts to tell the Dragonkeepers which dragon to saddle. Two long blasts indicated that they were to make ready to release all adolescent and older dragons for their exercise.

From what Aemma was told, this system had dramatically improved efficiency at the Dragonpit, with much less time spent waiting for the dragons to be unchained and saddled, whilst simultaneously reducing the pressure on the Dragonkeepers.

The Dragonseeds all then began clamouring to see the dragons, and Aemma granted their request, allowing them to go to the towers of Maegor's Holdfast and see the flight. She too followed, though slower than the excited children given her pregnancy. Two of their mothers helped the Queen up the stairs until she reached the tower battlements.

The children cheered as they saw the dragons circling the city. This was the second part of the system. The dragons couldn't all fit into the great arena in the center of the Dragonpit all at once, so they had to land one by one, from youngest to oldest. As a concession to the Dragonkeepers, the dragons would circle the city once before landing, to give them time to prepare to stable them.

Aemma looked at the dragons, watching as the eleven of them flying in a 'V' formation flew over the city walls and began circling King's Landing. Silverwing was in the lead, while Vermithor flew at the rear, keeping the younger dragons between them and preventing them from misbehaving. Dreamfyre flew immediately behind Silverwing, the larger Caraxes behind her. Then there were the younger dragons, which had yet to be ridden or named. Yellow, golden, cobalt, red, green, light green and white. And there was one more dragon in the flock: Seasmoke.

Aemma smiled at the sight. Vhagar wasn't there, which meant that Corlys had heeded her advice and taken her daughter's perfidious lover away from her, forcing her to return alone and ashamed, and sent his son and heir to keep a closer eye on Rhaenyra.

Once they had finished circling the city, the figure riding Silverwing lifted a horn before blowing into it, the dragon horn's order rippling through the flyers like a physical thing. Command. The dragonblood within Aemma told her. She couldn't hear the sound, but she knew bone-deep what it was. Without further instruction, the smallest dragon began a descent, the light green dragon descending into the maw of the Dragonpit as the rest of them continued circling the city.

Once they reached the same spot in the sky once again, Rhaenyra blew her horn once more, the white dragon swooping down. Again and again, they circled, one going down every time, until the massive Silverwing began her own descent.

While the first part of the system was Otto Hightower's, the second was Rhaenyra's creation. The long orbiting flight was, according to her, both a show of force and entertainment. It allowed foreign and local lords to see the power and splendour of House Targaryen, as a display of their might. It also had the added benefit of drawing tourists to King's Landing. Before this, seeing a dragon in King's Landing was considered a rare and lucky privilege, as dragons might spend years doing nothing in the Dragonpit, hidden away from curious eyes.

Now that dragon flights were regular and common, people flocked from all across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond to see them in flight. Men who came to King's Landing could reliably expect to see dragons, which made it worth travelling. According to Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury, the tourism revenue was contributing a healthy amount of coin into their coffers.

Gods damn Rhaenyra. She was so charming and intelligent and useful. Nobody believed that she could be anything but an angel, making none of them heed her warnings to the contrary.

As the Father once said: "Beware not the bandits and the brigands, for their hearts of evil are not hidden. Beware the friendly and charming, for they may hide hearts of evil behind their smiles."

Rhaenyra was living proof of that quote, her evil heart was hard to see, so beautifully hidden behind her smiles.

And today, Aemma had finally scored a victory against that monster in human skin.

———

105 AC, Aemma's room, Maegor's Holdfast

Supper was charming and pleasant, the Dragonseeds all clearly showing the fruits of their lessons. Their manners were polished, and their etiquette refined. They were far crys from the street urchins and baseborn children that they had picked off the street half a year ago. One could scarcely believe that they were not, in fact, highborn boys and girls from respectable families.

Laena's absence was remarked upon, but Rhaenyra refused to discuss it, and Daena and Shaeterys ordered the rest not to pry. Laenor was friendly with the kids though, wowing them with stories of his father's nine voyages.

While Rhaenyra's behaviour was of the elegance befitting the crown princess, Aemma could tell that she was in a horrid mood. Irritation and anger wafted off her. Too subtle for the children to notice, but a mother always did.

Aemma eventually retired for bed, citing the baby prince in her belly making her tired, and Laenor gallantly offered to walk her to her room. Once they were safely alone and private, the King Who Never Was spoke to the Queen.

"My father told me about my sister and Rhaenyra." He finally said, looking distinctly displeased at the notion, as was only right.

"So your father had split them up?" Aemma hopefully asked.

"Yes. My sister is to be kept apart from Rhae, and will be wed to the only son of the Sealord of Braavos by the end of the year." Laenor told her, which made Aemma smile. Laena was being sent off to Braavos, far away from Rhaenyra.

"Wonderful news." Aemma happily said, before turning apologetic. "I apologise for my daughter's depravity. I should have stopped it sooner."

"Water under the bridge." Laenor smoothly replied. "But we'd appreciate it if you kept this quiet. We don't want this scandal getting out and ruining my beloved sister's reputation."

"Of course. I shall tell no one. Not even my confessor." Aemma agreed. "Laena does not deserve to be tarred by my daughter. She deserves a husband that can protect her and children that are conceived in holy matrimony."

"Yes. Those." He said distractedly. "Father also warns you that Rhaenyra left in a fury. She's also borrowed the Encyclopaedia of Valyrian Medicine for the maesters and midwives she's called together."

"Did she? That's good. They've taken a look at me and the other expecting mothers. Falyse and Mysaria have nothing but praises for them, and I concur." Aemma replied.

"My father wants me to remind you that many medicines are poison, that most of those maesters cannot read High Valyrian and these medicines are untested." Laenor ominously said. Aemma's blood went cold at the implication. Laenor tiredly sighed before speaking once more. "I don't think she'll do it, but my father insists that I warn you anyway."

———

Aemma never went near one of her daughter's healers ever again, ordering a new maester from the Citadel and forbidding him from ever interacting with Rhaenyra's cabal unless he wanted to take the black. Maester Mellos was a good man, whom was of the same mould as Runciter before his unjust dismissal. Stubborn and unyielding. He refused to knuckle to the strange and foreign medicines brought by Rhaenyra, staunchly keeping to time-tested tradition.

The cabal tried to assasinate her daily, asking her to come with them and let them examine her. She refused every time, no matter how insistent they got. And when those men and women refused to obey, she had the Kingsguard forcibly remove them. And when Rhaenyra went to the King in protest, she bluntly informed her husband that she didn't trust foreign medicines and would keep solely to Maester Mellos, whom was more than sufficient for her needs. Her husband agreed, and forced their daughter to reluctantly accept.

Mysaria gave birth to a healthy baby boy, the last of Daemon's children. She asked Viserys permission to name the boy Daemon, after his father, and Aemma's husband had agreed. Saying that Daemon haunted his dreams, and he hoped that by naming his lastborn after him, he'd be soothed from beyond the veil and would forgive Viserys, as Viserys now forgave Daemon.

And before long, it was Aemma's own turn to give birth.

Notes:

Remember my mother's quote about paranoia?

Aemma is an example of unproductive paranoia. Seeing threats that aren't there and plotting against her ally. Her role in Daemon's death broke her. Subtly, but it did. After seeing Rhae kill him, she's now worried for her own life.