These two parts follow closely to a few episodes from the House of the Dragon tv show, placing Aemma Velaryon, Rhaenyra's eldest daughter, within the context of the show. If you would like to start from where the story itself begins, you can jump ahead to chapter I without missing anything important!
Thanks for reading! :)
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It's been ten years since the fateful wedding of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon. Ten years of platonic love between the two, ten years of affairs, of lovers. Of children. Four children to be exact.
Rhaenyra Targaryen was the daughter of Viserys I, King of the Seven Kingdoms, King of all of Westeros. Many years ago, after the death of his wife, seeing as Rhaenyra was his only child, he declared her his official heir.
This was not a decision to be taken lightly.
No precedent had been set for such a decision.
No Queen had ever sat the Iron Throne.
After the trying day following the birth of her youngest child, Rhaenyra was resting in her quarters, barely listening to Laenor's explanation for his comings and goings. There was a knock at her door and her boys filed into the room, followed by Ser Harwin Strong, the Commander of the City Watch. Laenor stood, nodding once to Harwin before leaving. The boys laughed loudly, the room filling with their happy voices.
"How was training today?"
Both of the boys began talking at once, explaining how Jace fought the straw man and Aegon had laughed at Luke for falling down. Rhaenyra met Harwin's gaze and their voices fell quiet in her ears. They both understood the words that passed between them. The words of admiration, the words of caution. She nodded, yes they would have to be cautious. Everyone whispered about her children. They bore no resemblance to their supposed father. As with all of Rhaenyra's children, Laenor's dark skin and silver hair were nowhere to be seen.
No one seemed more interested in the appearance of her children than Alicent Hightower. Alicent had been her childhood friend. They were each other's better half, confidants, sisters. Until King Viserys, Rhaenyra's father, declared that he would wed Alicent Hightower. Their relationship frayed even further through the years, lies and betrayals and children and lovers pushing them further and further apart.
House Hightower was one of the great houses in Westeros. They were an increasingly powerful house, they hailed from Oldtown and guarded the Citadel, a place of sanctity and knowledge. Alicent's father, Otto, had served as Hand of the King since before Rhaenyra could remember. Otto Hightower was the voice of relative reason, providing the king with advice, caution, and friendship. And over the years since her wedding and coronation, Queen Alicent Hightower had given King Viserys four heirs: Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron.
The question of their birth had never and could never be questioned.
It was this fact that kept the wounds of the past open and fresh. This fact that gnawed on Alicent and Rhaenyra.
She knew what Alicent wanted. Alicent wanted Aegon to be proclaimed as the king's heir, since he was, in fact, Viserys' eldest son. Alicent wanted everyone to see Rhaenyra as nothing more than a common whore. A foolish princess who could not provide her husband with true heirs.
Alicent was right, of course, but Rhaenyra and Laenor could never be with each other in that way. They loved each other, that was true. He had quickly become someone she relied on, her closest friend and ally against the cruelty of the capital, King's Landing, and the people in the court of the Red Keep. And he loved her, yet he always yearned for another...man.
But her four children had taken her husband's name. Rhaenyra, with the unfailing support of her father, had stood against the naysayers at court. She had decided to name her eldest son, Jacaerys, as her heir, which had started a whole host of opinions and judgments. Not only was she a whore, but now she was a hypocrite too.
The door opened again and Aemma floated in the room.
Aemma Velaryon was the eldest. She had her mother's eyes, a purple tinted blue that shimmered behind a mass of unkempt brown curls. She was playful and wild like her mother when she was young. Aemma was fiercely protective and loyal to her family and house. Though, there was a mysterious air about her, she would often fall into bouts of silence, only speaking when spoken to. No one knew what caused it, but in a few hours or days she would return to normal, always speaking and thinking way beyond her years.
Luckily, Aemma had not been affected by Rhaenyra's declaration of her heir. She had agreed that Jacaerys would be better suited.
Aemma went straight for her mother, "Are you alright? Where's the babe?" Those indigo eyes, which noticed all, narrowed as she took in the dried sweat on her mother's forehead and the wince she tried, in vain, to hide from her daughter.
Rhaenyra nodded to a cooing crib in the corner and all the children ran to it. She smiled at Harwin's silent question. Yes, go see our son.
They all gathered around the crib where the baby slept.
"What is his name?" Jace asked.
Jacaerys Velaryon was the eldest son. His dark hair flopped smoothly down his forehead, shielding his equally dark eyes. He was quiet in the presence of his uncles and the adults around him. He knew that his mother had named him her heir. He, like Aemma, was exceptionally aware. The two of them could feel the tension growing within the castle, it was all they could do to shield their brother from the worst of it.
"Your father has christened him as Joffrey Velaryon."
Harwin shifted his weight as Rhaenyra took the baby out of the crib and placed him in his arms. He rocked the child slowly. His hulking frame dwarfed the tiny bundle in his arms.
"Joffrey." Luke's smile and glittering brown eyes were enough to brighten even the darkest of days. He watched the babe carefully, glad he was no longer the youngest of the children.
Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra's sweet boy. His round face was kind and constantly lit up in a smile. He followed his brother around everywhere and was easily convinced to play with his uncles, to disastrous consequences.
Rhaenyra sighed as she took in her family, the people she loved most in all the world. She would protect them with her life. And she would do her duty. She would never forget the prophecy her father had passed down to her. She would be queen. She would unite the realm. She would protect them from the ice and fire biting at their heels.
⚔
Aemond, Aegon, and Luke gathered around Jace as the Valyrian trainers brought out Jace's dragon, Vermax. Jace spoke with the trainers who gave him the Valyrian prompts to the young dragon. Giddy with excitement, Jace commanded Vermax until the time finally came.
"Dracarys," he said. Vermax shook once before charring the lamb to a burnt crisp.
Dracarys. Aemond longed to be able to say it. To command his own dragon. The egg placed in his cradle never hatched and despite the high chances of dragon eggs never hatching, Aemond felt his anger rising inside him. His idiot brother, Aegon's egg had hatched. Both of his nephews had dragons. The only ones who could feel the shame he felt were the young girls amongst them, his quiet sister, Helaena, and his niece, Aemma. Their eggs hadn't hatched either.
Still, Aemond could not help but feel envious of the other boys who took pride in their dragons.
Aegon and Luke sidled up to him, shaking him from his thoughts. "We have something for you," Aegon said with a smile.
Luke pattered away towards the darkened opening of the pit. Aemond's heart fluttered. A dragon? When Luke stepped into the light again, Aemond's face fell.
"The Pink Dread!" The boys proclaimed in unison.
It was a pig. They had tied makeshift wings to a pig.
A dragon made just for him.
Their laughter bounced off the cavernous walls.
Aemond felt the overwhelming embarrassment first. How could he think that they would bring him a dragon? But then the embarrassment was replaced by something else. Something stronger. Anger. Rage. Jealousy.
But it was desperation and self-pity which led him deeper into the black depths of the Dragonpit after his brother led the younger boys away. He knew there were dragons down there.
He would find one.
He would find one and make it his.
⚔
Aemma and Helaena hid behind a wall overlooking the training courtyard. Helaena was holding yet another bug as she prattled off facts in a soft voice. Aemma nodded and agreed when she deemed appropriate, choosing instead to peek between the carvings at the yard below.
She had heard of the incident in the Dragonpit and now watched Aemond closely, his small fists closed tightly over his wooden sword.
Aemond had wandered too close to an unclaimed dragon, they said. The roar and fire of the dragon brought the trainers down to retrieve him.
Helaena had whispered to Aemma that Aemond cried into his mother's breast about a pig and the boys laughing at him. She could imagine what had happened. Aegon had roped Luke into a joke that Aemond took offense to. She could read it on his face. His quiet determination to become good with a sword. He felt as though he needed to make up for something.
Aemma watched as Ser Criston trained the two white-haired boys, leaving her brothers to meekly collide their swords. She bit down the anger which bubbled up inside her. There was no use in getting mad over the knight's petty actions. His loyalty to Alicent Hightower made him foolish and reckless.
A tall, broad-shouldered, black-haired man watched the training as well. He corrected her brothers as he eyed Ser Criston. From her place above the courtyard, Aemma couldn't hear the words they exchanged. She could see Criston's demeanor change. He stood up straighter, gripped his sword tighter. His authority was being questioned.
Ser Harwin Strong.
Aemma held her breath as the scene unfolded.
Ser Criston spoke to the boys and Aemma noticed the pairs shift. Aegon now faced Jace and Aemond faced Luke. Aemma's heart sank when Aegon's sword collided with Jace's, his movements sharp and quick. Jace could only hold his sword above him until he was on the ground. Criston yelled orders at Aegon telling him to stay on the offensive. Aegon kicked her brother, not letting him rise.
Aemma stood, readying herself to come to Jace's defense but she saw Harwin move towards Criston. Aegon stopped his beating and retreated to Criston and Harwin helped Jace stand. Both groups huddled together whispering and Harwin patted Jace's hair.
Aemma didn't even notice what had happened when she saw Harwin advance towards Criston. Ser Harwin pounded his fist against Ser Criston's face and the Kingsguard swarmed in, forcing Harwin off of Criston.
"Say it again! Say it again!" he was shouting.
Ser Criston smirked beneath his bloody nose and Aegon chuckled behind him. Jace and Luke held each other closely, their heads bowed in shame.
It did not take much for Aemma to piece together what had happened. Who's parentage had been questioned. Who's place at court had been threatened in the mere moments the boys trained in the courtyard together. And she knew it was not Ser Criston Cole.
⚔
Her mother had been quiet that day. She rocked Joffrey in silence, her face unreadable. Aemma knew something had happened. She and her brothers read by the fire in Rhaenyra's quarters when Ser Harwin Strong entered.
The first thing Aemma noticed was the lack of his treasured gold cloak.
He had lost his position.
Then she noticed his black cloak and his small pouch.
He was traveling. Rather, he was leaving.
Harwin spoke to Rhaenyra quietly and Aemma could barely see her mother's face from her seat on the floor.
Her mother refused to meet Harwin's gaze, her eyes looking beyond him. She did not cry yet Aemma thought that she had never seen her mother look so sad.
She tried to read her mother's lips moving silently: I'm sorry.
Harwin's voice was just barely audible, "We may yet meet again."
To this, Rhaenyra shook her head and Aemma knew she should stop listening. She turned her attention to Jace's quiet voice reading to Luke.
"Be good to your mother, lads," Harwin said after a few minutes. He cleared his throat, "Listen to your sister, she's in charge of you two."
Jace and Luke sprang up, now allowed to speak to Harwin after their mother. Luke hugged his leg before tucking into Rhaenyra's side.
Harwin bent down and Aemma threw her small arms around him. His large hand brushed her hair gently, "Take care, love." She nodded against his shoulder. It took everything for her to keep the tears from falling.
But Jace hesitated before his tall form.
"I'll visit when I can," Harwin told him, "but that may be some time."
Jace's lower lip quivered as he gazed up at this man who had become his teacher, his protector, his friend, his... he turned and ran to Rhaenyra's side.
Harwin sighed and joined him by Rhaenyra. "I will return. I promise," he said quietly. Jace nodded, his head downcast, as he fought back tears.
Aemma stood off to the side, watching her brother. She tried to keep her composure. She would remain unfazed as her mother did, but her own sadness threatened to betray her. Aemma knew who Harwin was, knew who he was to Rhaenyra, who he was to her.
This man had become so much more to her and Jace. Luke was too young to fully understand, but the two of them did. Aemma knew his leave from court was not of his own accord. He was dismissed. And his absence would leave a hole within her family.
She watched Harwin absentmindedly touch Jace's cheek and her brother nodded, the only acknowledgement he was going to get from Jace. Harwin turned from him to Rhaenyra, who still looked far away.
Aemma saw the pain in his gaze.
He kissed the baby's forehead, "I will be a stranger when we meet again," he said to Rhaenyra. Again, her mother's silence seemed to wound him. His head bobbed, as he realized she would not say anything. She would not take the risk. "Princess," was the only parting he was able to give her.
Harwin grabbed his pack and his sword and left.
A moment of silence hung in the air before Jace ran after their father.
Rhaenyra followed him with Aemma close behind.
They stood outside of their quarters, watching Harwin's retreating figure grow smaller before he turned the corner, gone forever.
"We will exchange letters by raven," Rhaenyra said finally, "won't that be fun."
Jace's small shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took. "Is Harwin Strong my father?" His voice quivered with anger or grief, Aemma did not know. "Am I a bastard?"
Rhaenyra's eyes widened and she looked around. She met Aemma's knowing gaze before turning back to her brother. "You are a Targaryen," she said, "that's all that matters."
The baby still in one arm, Rhaenyra bent slightly to kiss the top of Jace's head, but Aemma knew the fear that coursed through her. She was trying to keep her calm, to stay strong in front of her children but Harwin's dismissal from court had frightened her.
Aemma's mother met her gaze and she forced a smile before leading her back inside. The crisis, for now, was averted.
⚔
The arrangements were made quickly. It was an easy decision for Rhaenyra. There was nothing left for her within the caged walls of the Red Keep. She would take her family and those closest to her and assume her rightful place as the heir and Princess of Dragonstone.
"I thought you said you did not want to leave King's Landing. That your absence would leave room for the snakes to slither in," Laenor questioned when she had told him of their coming departure.
"Let them. I can no longer take the weight of this castle." Rhaenyra's voice was grave, "When the time comes, the dance will begin," she sighed, waving an arm, "Fate will weave her web whether I am in King's Landing or Dragonstone."
"Hm."
"It is as you said: the wise sailor flees the storm as it gathers," Laenor did not seem convinced. "Besides, there is nothing here for us anymore." Rhaenyra knew Laenor missed his sister, his mother and father, the salty spray of the sea, the thunder of crashing waves. She knew he longed to one day return to Driftmark. She also knew of his secrets, as he knew and kept hers. "We have each other," she paused, reminded of the man Laenor cared for, "Bring him. We'll need every sword we can get."
His eyes gleamed with understanding. They were united deeper than the bonds of marriage. They were tied by love and trust and secrets.