The House of Ice and Fire

A Young Dragons and Old Sheep

Fair Castle 105 AC

Aemon Targaryen

In the wake of the Sea of Flames, the passage of time seemed to stretch on endlessly for Aemon Targaryen, dragging him through a seemingly unending procession of days and nights. The Greyjoy Rebellion, a storm that had erupted in the eighth month of the year 104 AC, continued its relentless onslaught into the depths of the following year, stubbornly persisting for seven long months, not including the time between Aemon leaving Harrenhal and reaching Summerhall. It was now the third month of the year 105 AC.

Eight months of strife and struggle had left Aemon weary to the bone, his spirit worn thin by the ceaseless demands of war. From his headquarters at Fair Castle, nestled upon the rocky shores of Fair Isle, he orchestrated the delicate dance of strategy and diplomacy that would shape the course of the conflict. And thought of plunding a dagger in his throat every time a lord acted more than child than he, a seven name day boy.

Beside him stood the stalwart Redwyne fleet, its ships a formidable bulwark against the encroaching tide of Ironborn aggression. Alongside them sailed the Velaryon fleet, its banners proudly bearing witness to its unwavering allegiance to the cause.

Once the battle of the Straits of Fair Isle, or the Sea of Flames as the soldiers and commonfolk had taken to calling it, had happened, it was clear that there would be no immediate damage to the Reach, with word from the Redwynes to the Hightowers, food was began being sold and being heavily garrisoned and protected to be sent to areas that needed it most. While word had reached the Tyrells, and they had tried to help, the Hightowers, under the guise of being stout supporters of the crown, had sent thrice as much food and negotiated with other Reach lords to send just as much. A letter from Saera confirmed that Summerhall and Summertown had already begun receiving the food, and for now, the common folk and the people of the castle were secured. Aemon was not looking forward to the increase in popularity of the Hightowers for their generosity, not that Aemon would ever call it that.

In the ensuing weeks, Aemon dispatched the Velaryon fleet to aid the beleaguered North, their swift return bearing tidings of triumph as the combined might of the Northern armies pushed the Ironborn back into the depths of the Riverlands. The North was secure without outside help; it only took so long for the lords to get through due to having to invade their land, but they were battle tasted after many fighting against the wildlings and were far more a proven and aggressive force with more experience than most of the other kingdoms.

Sustained by this newfound momentum, the Baratheons, resolute in their determination, launched a relentless assault upon the Ironborn forces, driving them ever deeper into the heart of the Riverlands with each passing day. The Stormlands were secured, and from what Saera's letter suggested over the last weeks, it seemed that the people of the Stormlands looked more to Summerhall and Summertown for guidance and leadership than Storm's End, especially since most of the Storland's forces were fighting back Riverlanders and Ironborn and Summerhall still had two dragons. Aemon knew his aunt and knew full well she would capitalize on this; she was a mission and greedy, and he did not like the similarities with the Lannisters of Jon Snow's time, more specifically Cersei and Tywin, most of all. Aemon refused to admit to himself that the parts of him that were honorable like Ned Stark were being replaced by the ambitions and cruelty of the Tywin Lannisters of the world, all to avoid the end, all to avoid the Long Night.

Meanwhile, the Lannisters, their forces finally assembled after months of painstaking preparation, marched forth to join the fray, their banners unfurling in a resplendent display of martial prowess and noble resolve. It was safe to say for the Stormlanders that reached Fair Castle, to the Riverlords, and the North lords, as well as any man wanting to fight against the Ironborn, the opinion of the Westerlands was low at best. One battle, it took one catastrophic failure by the Lannisters over something that should have never happened, the fall of Lannisport and destruction of half of Casterly Rock, and the Westerlands were reduced to nothing for six months, and they were subject to the whims of the Ironborn.