+ The Pearl of Lys - Chapter Sixteen +
+ The Weight of a Crown +
Dawn scarcely began to chase away the darkness when the first rays of light had spilled through the grand windows of OceanPyke. The palace, usually vibrant with music and conversation by midmorning, still slumbered beneath a blanket of quiet as the sun fully began to rise. Only the soft footsteps of servants echoed through the marble corridors as another day of royal duty began.
Within her chambers, Princess Aelora stirred beneath embroidered silken blankets as the curtains were gently drawn apart. Golden-pink light washed across the room, illuminating carved furnishings embellished with various pearls and polished Valyrian steel accents that shimmered faintly like captured starlight.
The steady click of heels approached the bedside where she rest before a warm and gentle hand had placed itself upon her shoulder. Smell flecks of dark curls tickled her skin and the air around smelled richly of sage. "My Princess," Lady Isadora whispered gently. "The morning has come." Aelora opened her eyes slowly, allowing the sleep to fade as she focused on Isadora's warm features. For a long moment she simply stared at her lady in silence before a small smile painted her lips. She nodded and allowed herself to be risen from her bed quietly.
Her thoughts had never truly rested.
The dreams of the future...
Such an impossible choice.
Servants quietly entered carrying polished trays laden with jewelry, perfumes and folded gowns. Today they had chosen silks of the palest rose, almost white where the sunlight touched them. Tiny pearls had been stitched throughout the fabric while delicate filigree of silver steel climbed the sleeves like flowering vines. Lady Isadora helped brush the endless silver curls from Aelora's shoulders.
"You've hardly slept." Isadora's voice came calmly, her hands still gently braiding and pulling at Aelora's hair. A soft hum left the princess's lips, "It seems I have forgotten how these last few weeks." The older girl smiled sadly but said nothing, Isadora would not push her to speak now. She knew her grace would tell her when she was ready.
As jeweled earrings were fastened and the Valyrian steel circlet rested upon her brow, Aelora studied herself within the mirror. She scarcely recognized the woman staring back. She had spent years becoming heir, fighting for the right of earning every title. Every victory, every faint scar that painted her skin was a map of her loyalty to her people. Lys was her heart, Its people knew her as she knew them. They loved her..Trusted her.
Yet now...
Another future had begun to reveal itself. Not as Queen of Lys alone...but perhaps Queen of Westeros. The peace that ended the cousins war..She could bring the unity that their house so desperately craved. The thought sent a thrill racing through her, a small flicker before hallowing dread filled the cracks left behind. If such a thing came to pass...Histories would be forever changed.
They could be bountiful. Armies could cross between lands alongside the royal navies. Dragons would have free roam across the seas and skies...Aelora paused briefly as another pearl was braided into her hair. Westeros never truly treated foreigners kindly, she had often heard Arianne spitefully call them a vipers nest. To fuel that, Alyssa hadn't painted the kindest image either.
Aelora grimaced at the thought of how quickly this could turn. Flashes of war, bloodied feilds, and burning skies made her feel nauseous. With a deep breath she calmed herself, the glory of such unification had more benefits to reap rather than wars to fight. What knowledge this would bring..how their families strength would rival its own in the height of Old. The sea that had once separated them would become the very road that united them. It would be a golden age unlike anything seen since Old Valyria itself.
If only...
If only it did not demand so much from the will of a Queen.
⸻
Another wing of the palace had already sprung to life. Servants hurried through guest apartments carrying traveling chests while armor was polished and riding leathers carefully folded. Prince Baelon fastened the final buckle of his cloak with a sigh, "It seems our visit has ended far sooner than I wished..It has been have quite pleasant in these lands."
Princess Alyssa smiled softly as a ladiesmaid tied back her silver hair in a braid, another was readying her riding leathers. "Duty always returns, husband..especially when it is at our father's command." Baelon scoffed out a laugh, shaking his head softly. "He certainly has dreadful timing." She laughed quietly, a hand rubbing her lower abdomen. "Perhaps..when we are old and wrinkled we shall retire here instead."
Baelon looked toward her with amusement as he took a few paces toward where she sat. "In Lys?" Alyssa raised a brow and shrugged softly, "Why not?" She said with a grin. "We'll build ourselves a lovely château overlooking the sea, Maekar has promised us such already."
"You intend to abandon King's Landing?"
"Now, now..I said retire." She laughed as she rose from her seat, gently placing her hands upon her husband's shoulders. "We'll simply send the king enough gold every year to remind him we still exist." Baelon barked a laugh before resting his forehead against Alyssa's. "I somehow suspect he will still find ways to summon us throughout these next few years."
"He most certainly will. Who knew the king of Lys would enjoy us so dearly." The warmth of their laughter lingered only briefly before silence reclaimed the room.
Neither truly wished to leave this small safe haven far from the rats nest of Kings Landing.
⸻
Prince Vaegon had long since finished his own packing, the last of his luggage packed when the sun had begun to rise. Books had been stacked with meticulous precision. Maps rolled tightly in the traveling trunks that were tightly fastened. He now stood watching servants secure Prince Aemon's belongings instead.
Aemon remained near the great window overlooking the sea. Motionless as he watched the eastern horizon, where the waters eventually disappeared toward Westeros. His riding leathers already rested upon him. A dark crimson cloak upon black leathers with silver dragon clasps. Every inch the heir apparent, yet today he stood strangely distant.
Vaegon frowned, suspicion flickering within his gut. "What exactly are you planning?" Aemon gave his younger brother no answer, only silence. "Brother..you've been standing there for nearly half an hour."
Still he said nothing.
Vaegon folded his arms in frustration, "This is unlike you." Aemon's gaze never shifted from the sea, yet finally his voice came rough and heavy from lack of sleep. "For Gods sakes, Vaegon..I am thinking."
The younger prince scoffed and took a few paces forward. "Must you do it so loudly?" Nothing was said to his smart remark, no words at all. Vaegon stared at his brother for a moment, mind whirling until a pit had formed. Aemon intended to ask for something..he had done this countless of times as children, every time his whim coddled until they weren't. The last time Vaegon could recall was when Aemon asked for the hand of Jocelyn Baratheon..the thought lit a fire within. Frustration crept into the Vaegon's voice upon the realization, "Have you forgotten how you spent weeks calling Princess Aelora a mummer?"
Aemon remained in silence.
"You questioned her birthright before father's entire council." Vaegon's tone became more agitated, rising in tone yet there was still only silence. "You called her a fucking—"
In an instant Aemon crossed the room.
Vaegon scarcely had time to breathe before strong fingers seized the front of his collar. The younger prince found himself pulled forward until their foreheads nearly touched. Aemon's voice fell barely above a whisper, "History will remember the weight of the choices made in these halls." Vaegon blinked, panic still evident on his features. "I—"
Aemon cut him off, features pulled into a grimace. "You do not yet understand." The words carried no anger, only a deep certainty. Aemon released him with a shove before returning to the window as though nothing had happened. "You may go, Vaegon. You are dismissed."
Vaegon straightened his tunic, glaring after his brother. Whatever had occurred here in Lys...It had changed him. That frightened Vaegon far more than he wished to admit.
⸻
The farewell breakfast filled the royal dining chamber with warmth despite the melancholy that lingered beneath every conversation. Long tables groaned beneath fresh fruit, honey cakes, roasted pheasant, smoked fish, warm breads and silver pitchers overflowing with wine. King Maekar welcomed everyone himself upon entrance that morning. Queen Aelysia ensured each of the royal children had been served before touching her own meal.
Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa entered together, both already dressed for travel. Before taking their seats Alyssa had presented King Maekar with a neatly sealed letter. "A small token of gratitude from our household." The king accepted it with genuine warmth and placed it neatly in his pocket, "You honor my hall, child."
Conversation quickly turned toward Aenar and Arianne. "I only wish they had remained a little longer," Queen Aelysia admitted with a fond smile. "though newlyweds deserve their peace." Soft hums of agreement filled the air among the clatter of cutlery. "I'm certain they'll write within a moon," Alyssa replied. "Likely boasting about Château du Solerys, successful exploits and such." Baelon added cockily. Laughter circled the table, Aenys smirked over his cup. "Gods forbid...tiny Aenars running through those halls."
Viserra laughed outright at his comment while Saera hid a smile behind her goblet. "You truly are impossible."
"So I've been told."
At that moment the great doors opened. Prince Aemon entered and every conversation quieted. The Prince was already dressed for flight along with Alyssa and Baelon. Already wearing the duty of Westeros upon his shoulders once more. He bowed respectfully before taking his place, no one noticed when his eyes instinctively searched the room. Chatter resumed, Aemon had only joined in when Baelon began to tell the story of Alyssa dumping a flagon of wine upon Vaegon at a feast.
A servant approached the royal table carrying a covered breakfast tray. "Your Graces..." The servant bowed deeply. "Princess Aelora requests permission to break her fast within her own chambers." Silence settled as the servant finished. Viserra frowned deeply, "I hope she has not taken ill."
"I am sure she is well," Queen Aelysia answered softly. King Maekar merely nodded, waving a hand to the servant. "See that she is well attended." Breakfast continued without complaint, though something heavy lingered over the table.
⸻
Soon afterward the royal household dispersed, King Maekar departed for council with well wishes of safe travels to the children of King Jaehaerys. Queen Aelysia had made for the royal gardens with her ladies while Aenys returned to his military duties. Servants rushed through corridors preparing for their departures.
Amid the bustle..Aemon quietly slipped away as his siblings had made their way to the dragonmount and royal docks. His feet carried him quickly through the halls, feeling heavy in their wake. His father had refused any woman's hand save for his mother, he could not refuse him for following in his footsteps. The feeling of her presence made his blood burn like a flame, as if the Gods had hand crafted her just for him. Aemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and rider of Caraxes had made his choice; he would not have his act of the Gods taken from him now.
The fruit was far too sweet, even his father could not deny that. He could paint his fancy as political ambition, but the flames that burned within him knew the truth. He would not have what his heart craved taken from him once more, however he had to achieve it. The guards outside Princess Aelora's chambers straightened immediately upon his arrival.
"My prince, we were not expecting you."
"A message for you two," Aemon said calmly as he handed a small sealed scroll to the guards. "Prince Aenys has requested your presence upon the training grounds, Ser Ameron is to come guard her grace." The guards exchanged uncertain looks for a moment. One finally stepped aside and bowed before departing, the other watched the Prince for a moment longer. Reluctantly following his partner down the hall.
Aemon entered quietly, the chamber doors closed behind him.
⸻
His footsteps were quiet and measured as he made way through her chambers. The smell of Jazmine hung heavy in the air as he looked for her.
He made way to the balcony, where her figure stood regally behind the sheer curtains that danced in the breeze. A moment of hesitation in his steps as he looked upon her, she had always been a stunning creature in his eyes but now—in this moment, she was an image he'd never forget. The mighty Prince Aemon reduced to a kneeling fool, he laughed softly at the irony. Many would find the thought humorous.
Aemon cleared his throat when he was only a few paces behind her, a look of impatience masking his features as Aelora let out a warm laugh. "Surely you, of all people, would not punish me to suffer departing these lands without being graced with your presence once more." Aelora shook her head with a smile as she walked to stand before him, his hands instantly reaching for her own. "It would be rather cruel of me to do such a thing." Aemon nodded quietly in response as his thumbs gently circled her knuckles, "Truly.." His eyes flickered from their joined hands to her soft features, a look of unspoken affection in his eyes.
Aelora flushed faintly at the action, Aemon had proven to be rather bold in his conquest. Now more so than ever. Her gaze flickered to the door, voice quieting, "I fear I shall resent the absence that will fill these halls these coming weeks. I shall go mad with only Aenys as entertainment." Aemon laughed and rested his forehead against hers, eyes flickering over her features like scoring them to memory. "Might you take a respite to your own chateau? Surely you shan't suffer such a fate forever." One hand came to gently brush a curl from her face as his voice whispered, "I do not intend to leave you long."
Aelora's eyes flickered to his, "You truly intend to suggest such a thing? Aemon..wars have been fought for much less." His other hand came to grasp her face gently as he leaned closer, lips merely a breath apart. "I do not care for war, Aelora..let us be the peace that ends this separation..I beg of you, Ñuha prūmia." Aeloras eyes flickered to his as her heartbeat pounded into her throat, my heart—his heart.
Perhaps he truly cared for her—as the realization resonated for a moment, Aelora nodded softly. A soft whisper of approval left her lips. The pair stood in silence for a moment absorbing the reality of what may lie ahead, Aelora opened her lips to speak before Aemon covered them.
His hands held her face reverently, like she was a fragile jewel. His lips kissed hers with a heated devotion, as if it was the only chance he'd ever get to. The deep fear of that being truth was pushed far out of mind as he relished her lips on his, even if it was for only a moment. When they parted, his eyes searched her face as determination hardened in his heart. Aelora stared at him in quiet shock, hand gently coming to rise to her lips as a deep flush began trailing her features. Her voice was soft as she nodded, "very well, then. That certainly..settles-" "you will be my wife one day, Aelora. I swear it here and now. By the old gods and the new, or whatever Gods that may hear me."
Aemon stared at her with such certainty she knew there was no jest behind his words. Aelora nodded with a soft smile, "I hope you are right about this, Aemon. Truly." She grabbed his hands and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek, "I shall see you again." Aemon nodded, holding her hands for a moment longer and memorizing the feeling.
Some time later, the prince emerged once more. His expression was composed and measured. No one could have guessed what thoughts occupied his mind. Without another word he crossed the palace one final time before ascending the Dragonmount.
⸻
The farewell upon the Dragonmount was swift.
Caraxes crouched impatiently as Meleys rumbled. Vhagar's great wings stirred dust across the black stone as she stretched. King Maekar had offered each departing royal warm wishes, the flagons of wine only added to such a notion. "My halls shall remain open to those who seek them, I should hope you return for future family matters."
"You honor us," Alyssa answered. Baelon clasped forearms with Aenys, giving him a half hearted smile. The boy was only a few years his junior but Baelon felt for him, the walls he hid behind were clearer than crystal water. Baelon leaned in and muttered something with a soft laugh, giving him a light laugh. Promises of future hunts and tournaments were exchanged and soon dragons climbed into the bright morning sky.
Below them sailed the royal vessel carrying Vaegon, Saera, and Viserra. For a time three dragons remained high above the ship. Guardians of those below while crossing the Narrow Sea. Then, without warning Caraxes surged. Flying far ahead the rest, leaving Baelon and Alyssa behind.
"Aemon?" Alyssa frowned as her voice fell on rushing wind. Baelon looked upward with a confused look, brows furrowing softly before he yelled back "Where is he going? He'll reach King's Landing hours before us."
No true answer came, only the distant shape of the Blood Wyrm racing toward the horizon.
Vaegon stood upon the ship's deck watching. A strange unease settled deep inside him. For a moment, only a moment, he saw Caraxes fleeting form. Suddenly the young prince feared exactly what awaited them in King's Landing.
⸻
By late afternoon Caraxes descended upon the Dragon Mount with a deafening roar before landing in the courtyard. Aemon scarcely paused, thanking the dragonkeepers briefly before striding to the Red Keep with purpose.
There would be no coming back from this, that was certain. Aemon knew it would go one of two ways; his father would agree to such a proposal or..Gods forbid—Aemon could break something at the thought.
Servants bowed in their passing. Knights greeted him dutifully. He answered all politely without slowing his pace. His destination never changed.
The King's Solar.
Without knocking...Aemon had entered. King Jaehaerys looked up from a table strewn with letters and maps. A smile crossed the king's face as he rose to greet his eldest son. "Aemon what a sight, welcome home." His smile faltered only briefly as his eyes flickered around the doorway, "You've returned ahead of the others."
Aemon's voice came strained, as if a thread of patience was all that remained from souring his mood entirely. "I have." King Jaehaerys raised a brow, "Where are your siblings?" Aemon nodded softly, "They'll arrive by ship before dusk, Alyssa and Baelon fly above them." Jaehaerys studied him carefully.
"You seem troubled, boy."
Aemon took a breath in, nodding once more. "I had wished to speak to you..before they returned." The king folded his hands as his shoulders gently shrugged, "Very well, you have my ears." Aemon stepped closer. "I have seen the strength of Lys with my own eyes."
"I do not doubt it. They have said for years Maekar was quite the man, it is just a misfortune we got to see it so late." Jaehaerys agreed, mild disappointment tinging his tone.
"The Celtigar and royal fleet rivals any in the known world, aside from House Valeryon. From what mine own ears have heard Lord Valeryon intends to meet with Lord Celtigar to make declarations of alliance. " Jaehaerys nodded, slowly beginning to catch the stench of political ambition in his son's words.
"So Lord Gaemon has claimed."
"Their dragons are indeed quite large."
"I know."
"Their armies are highly disciplined and trained in many arts of war."
Another silent nod, yet Jaehaerys hands had begun to clench at eachother. "Their royal children have been educated in statecraft from childhood, each excellent in political matters. Nor to forget they're all riders, and trained in many arts of war themselves. "
Deafening silence filled the room as the king froze, as if waiting for the words to leave his son's lips. Aemon inhaled steadily, "You once told me that a treaty written upon parchment binds kingdoms for a generation."
Jaehaerys' eyes narrowed, his gaze remaining on his eldest son in silence. Aemon refused to back down, his promise keeping him resolute as he slowly stepped forward. "A treaty sealed through marriage binds them for centuries." The king leaned back in a simmering anger, a flush slowly rising his neck. "I wondered when we would reach the true subject of your..visit today."
Aemon continued, a small pit of panic forming in his gut as he stepped closer. "Father, if the Princess Aelora were to become my queen—" Jaehaerys raised a hand as his face pulled into a sneer, "That is enough, boy. You step too highly."
Aemon did not stop, rather choosing to raise his tone instead of being quieted once more. "Prince Aenar is already wed and prepared to continue his own line. The succession of Lys would remain secure while both realms gained a lasting alliance that secures our line as one, even a fool could see that! A blind one too!" Jaehaerys turned away with a deep breath, trying to steady the rage flickering deep within. "Aemon, I said that is enough."
"No, father—the military strength alone—"
"I said enough!"
The words cracked through the chamber like lightening, a long silence followed. The king slowly turned his face back to his son. "You have only just returned. We have only recently secured peace." His face pulled into an almost controlled sneer, "Now—already, you speak of rearranging another sovereign kingdom's line of succession."
Aemon scoffed and shook his head as his pacing paused briefly, offense clearly taken. "I speak of strengthening both, a golden age across both lands. It is not madness I speak, It's rather simple."
"You speak," Jaehaerys answered sharply at his son's sarcasm, "as though King Maekar's heir were merely a piece upon a cyvasse board."
Aemon met his father's gaze for a quiet moment, the fear barely shined through the anger in his eyes. A sensitive remark for a man who seeks merely political gain. Jaehaerys brows furrowed softly, taking a step closer to Aemon as he spoke again. "I speak as the future king, this match could benefit the people far greater than anything here."
Jaehaerys searched his son's face with a look one could compare to a grinning wolf. The conciliator laughed humorously and shook his head softly, "You speak as a man blinded by ambition but..there is reason behind your demand, isn't there?"
"No."
Aemon's voice remained steady but his reply came too quick. "I speak as one who has seen what could be." Jaehaerys shook his head, walking back to his desk almost dismissively. "We have opened trade, therefore we have opened diplomacy." The king took his seat once more, starting to sort his parchments. "Now you would ask me to approach a king with the suggestion that his heir leave her own realm?" He laughed once more, but there was no true humor in it.
"Do you understand what insult that would carry?"
Aemon sighed and rubbed his temples, the riding leathers he bore grew irritating upon his skin. "It need not be an insult, Aelora would see it as a great honor." Jaehaerys eyes flickered to Aemon quickly, "It most certainly would be an insult, you act as if you know her choice in the matter already." The king leaned forward, "You presume much, or perhaps there is more to your ambition?"
The wall was wearing thin, Aemons voice no longer held simmering anger in its tone rather an exhausted and silent plea. "I see opportunity." The princes gaze flickered to his father's, eyes filled with the truth of it. Jaehaerys nodded silently,
"You only have ever seen what you wish to."
The room fell deathly still.
Aemons breathing was all but ragged as he watched the man before him with a fire his father had never seen. A humorless laugh left his lips as he tilted his head back. After a moment, Aemon spoke with a resentment that had built for years. "You have denied me this once before."
Jaehaerys' expression hardened. Jocelyn. He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively, "This is not the same." Aemon cut him off sharply, "Yet, It feels no different..I have made my choice and that is final." After a brief moment, Aemon turned to leave in silence. Only the sound of his boots upon the ground and the whispers of his cloak could be heard until he reached the doorway.
Jaehaerys voice cut through, "I am still your king, you are not to do anything but by my command."
Aemon paused but didn't bother turning to face him, "As I remain your heir. My choice is final on the matter, I will have what is mine. Even the Gods have deemed it so."
Neither man moved. The silence between them seemed heavier than iron. At last Jaehaerys spoke quietly, temple buried in his hands. "This discussion is finished, leave me." Aemon held his place for one final heartbeat before inclining his head with perfect courtesy.
"As you command."
Aemon opened the great doors and departed. The king remained standing alone within the solar, staring toward the closed doorway long after his son had disappeared, the weight of kingdoms suddenly feeling far heavier than any crown. Aemon was behaving recklessly, chaotic even..perhaps the blood of the dragon ran hotter in his veins than the king had originally known.
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