Chapter 19

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They say that motherhood is a choice you make every day, to put someone else's happiness and well-being ahead of your own, to teach the hard lessons, to do the right thing even when you're not sure what the right thing is...and to forgive yourself, over and over again, for doing everything wrong.

I married Tyland when I was one and twenty, and became a mother the next year at two and twenty. The years before that had consisted mostly of plotting, gaining allies, removing enemies and ensuring a straight path to my unchallenged succession. There were many ups and downs, and a lot of planning to get the things done. There were failures, but there were also successes. I was proud of the path I had taken, the plots I crafted, the connections I'd made and the thorns I'd thrown aside. But absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of accomplishment when I stared at my children and watched them grow before my eyes.

These past ten years have been an experience that I can't quite describe in words. There were moments when I confidently did something, moments where I was so unsure of myself that I could cry. I always questioned whether I was being a good mother, whether I was raising my children right, teaching them how to properly tell the difference between what was good and what was bad. I was unsure more than half the time, but the moment I looked at them I was the calmest person in the room.

Aemon had grown to be a handsome young man of ten who was responsible, bold, and what I can assume politically savvy from how he'd approach an issue in the few times he'd 'overhear' talks between the hand and the King or talk between the King and me. He was skilled with a sword, absorbing every lesson Ser Criston taught him. He also grew overly protective of his sister Viserra.

Viserra on the other hand showed little interest in swords or combat in general, even when she learned that her mother was a skilled fighter herself. She was a precocious child, bright and bold and beautiful. Much like her brother, she was a quick study but unlike him had a stubborn streak to go with her pride. She was charming, yet never forgot a slight.

Both my children had changed drastically since their infancy, as was expected. Aemon while born with the classic Targaryen looks, had shown more of his father as he grew. Even his hair that was silver-gold had streaks of Lannister golden hair in them. Viserra on the other hand had grown more into the Targaryen looks, her golden hair had paled, and looked closer to blonde now than it was before.

Alicent had one more child after Aemond, who had grown to be a shy but sometimes bold young lad. The child was named Daeron, born three years after his immediate older brother and twin nephew and niece. Tyland had wanted to get me pregnant to 'compete with the Queen' as he said it, but I was adamant in telling him two was enough for me. I almost died birthing the twins, I was not about to go through all of that all over again. Tyland was more than happy to accept my opinion, especially since the opinion was delivered at a dagger point to the balls.

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"You're going to have to do better than that."

Three voices roared at once, streaks of blondes rushing in for the attack. But the dark-haired one parried all three easily at the same time, using their momentum to thwart each other.

"When you are fighting an enemy that is more skilled than you it is wise to attack at the same time, but only if the three of you can coordinate your attacks and not get in each other's ways.

The boys listened intently, their swords raised and ready to charge once more.

Up on the balcony, the King watched his sons and grandson with a smile, his Hand and Granddaughter with him.

"Do you wish to go join your uncles and brother?" the King asked.

"I prefer to watch" the granddaughter answered.

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