Legacy of the White Dragon : Dance of the Dragons

Jeyne Arryn (109 A.C. Twelfth Moon)

Gates of the Moon – Lady's Solar

She dipped her quill in ink and set to work once more, penning another order with swift, practiced strokes. The parchment was one of many strewn across her desk, the morning consumed by endless preparations. Winter loomed, and the memory of her last preparations, six years past, lingered in her thoughts. Then, Rhea's father had lived, guiding her hand as regent. She had learned much from him, his wisdom, his strength, but now, the burden was hers alone.

Not entirely alone, she reminded herself. Jessamyn stood by her side as always, her steadfast companion since childhood, now something far deeper. Of all her advisors, Jessamyn was the one she trusted without question. In that, she found herself thinking of her cousin, Rhaenyra, and how she leaned on her husband in much the same way. She had seen it in their shared glances and heard it in their quiet conversations.

Her mind drifted, lingering on Prince Aemon. She had barely spoken to him during the wedding. They would travel here, and she wanted no more of him. Especially if Rhaenyra and Aemon accepted her offer.

Before she could dwell further, a deep, thunderous roar shattered the stillness of the room, pulling her from her thoughts. She blinked and looked outside of the window. The sound reverberated through the stone walls of the Gates of the Moon, unmistakable in its raw power.

Courtyard of Gates of the Moon

She had seen Balerion during the naming of Aemon Targaryen as the heir to the Iron Throne, and the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laena to Aemon, yet witnessing the dragon again still took her breath away. Now, there were four dragons here, though not permanently. If her cousin and her husband would accept her proposal, so would the Vale in a few years' time.

"My, that's Balerion; it's the largest thing I have ever seen," Jessamyn said in a hushed tone.

"He is indeed," she replied. She then knelt as she heard footsteps approaching, and the rest of the castle followed her lead.

Through the door walked her cousin with her husband. The wind tugged at Rhaenyra's silver-golden hair, and her purple eyes were striking. Her cousin was a true beauty. Aemon, taller and more broad-shouldered than before, now possessed a beard. His grey eyes and the scar gave him an imposing look. Behind them, she saw a man she remembered: Ser Harrold Westerling, Aemon's sworn shield throughout his youth.

"Rise, my Lady," Aemon said as he and Rhaenyra stopped in front of her.

"My Prince, my Princess, welcome to the Gates of the Moon," she proclaimed as she rose.

Rhaenyra smiled, though there was a steely edge beneath it. "Lady Jeyne," she greeted, her voice smooth but commanding, "it is good to see you. The Vale is as magnificent as ever."

"Thank you, I am honored to host you both, and I trust your stay will be comfortable," she added.

"About that, we have no doubt, my lady. As all the Arryns are as my late good-sister, I doubt we have much to fear," Aemon said, smiling as he looked from her to Rhaenyra.

"Yes, my aunt is surely missed. May I also offer my congratulations on the birth of Princess Arya, my Prince," she added.

"Thank you, my lady. Princess Arya is truly a blessing, though she will not be the only one joining us soon," Aemon said, glancing at Rhaenyra with fondness.

'Oh, her cousin is with child,' she thought, glancing down at Rhaenyra's belly, where she noticed a small bump.

"Congratulations, Princess. I hope the child will bring you much happiness," she replied, taking Rhaenyra's hands.

"Thank you, cousin. It is truly a blessing," Rhaenyra replied, smiling.

"Shall we go inside? The Vale is starting to get colder during autumn," she suggested.

"We shall. Is the Eyrie still accessible, or have you already moved down to the Gates of the Moon? I wish to show the castle my mother grew up in," Rhaenyra asked, and Aemon frowned at the question. "Accessible?" Aemon asked.

"Yes, in the winter the Eyrie isn't reachable except by cart, and it causes supply issues. Not even the warmth of the hearth can keep it warm," Rhaenyra replied.

"Hmm, a magnificent castle so high in the clouds, but it seems there are tactical faults to it. Perhaps in the future, I can help you change that," Aemon said, glancing from her to the Eyrie.

'What did he mean by that?' she wondered. "As for the princess's question, the Eyrie is still accessible, though the path is treacherous," she said. 

"Mmm, perhaps a future visit is needed then, unless Balerion could take us up there," Rhaenyra said, looking at Aemon.

"Perhaps we shall later, my dear. For now, let's go inside as Lady Jeyne suggested," Aemon responded.

"Yes, let me escort you to your chambers, where you shall be residing for the duration of your stay. Yet before I say more, may I introduce my closest friend and lady-in-waiting, Jessamyn Redfort," she said, gesturing Jessamyn forward, who bowed to them both.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Jessamyn," Rhaenyra said, giving her a knowing look. 'Rhaenyra knew the truth. They had talked about it when she was in the Vale last time. Rhaenyra had a similar relationship with her sister-wife, Laena,' she thought with a smile.

"As it is for me, Princess," Jessamyn replied.

"Well, I hope to get to know each other better, my lady," Aemon added.

"As do I, my Prince," Jessamyn replied a bit more timidly. She couldn't really blame her. Aemon Targaryen was the heir to the Iron Throne, rider of the Black Dread, and the Breaker of Bloodstone.

"Well, come, we shall have time to be acquainted during the upcoming days, I'm sure," she gestured, and they followed her into the halls of the Gates of the Moon.

Aemon Targaryen (109 A.C. Twelfth Moon)

The Eyrie – Guest Chambers.

He groaned, waking up and looking around. Everything was black and white. He knew then where he was. He had done this before when he was away from his family. He was warged into Ghost. Normally, he could control it when he was near Ghost, but this long-distance warging was sporadic and beyond his control. Afterward, he would always have headaches, as if his mind had been strained.

He looked around the room and realized he was in a bedchamber. There was a crib nearby—Arya's crib, he knew, as he could smell her scent. But she wasn't the only one he smelled; Laena's scent was also present.

He saw Laena lying on the bed, her eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Then, a cry. It seemed his daughter had woken up. Laena stirred, letting out a small groan as she got up and walked to Arya's crib. "Oh, darling," Laena murmured as she gently picked up Arya, rocking her tenderly.

"Hmm, Ghost, are you awake too?" Laena asked. He gave her hand a gentle lick. Laena looked content holding Arya. 'Laena is a wonderful mother, and he imagined how Arya would one day cry out in delight as he and Laena took her into the sky on their dragons.' He thought.

Then Arya's soft whimpers faded into the quiet of the night, his awareness began drifting back to his own body. He blinked, taking in the warmth of the bed beneath him, the familiar scent of the room, and the steady rise and fall of his own breathing. A faint headache pulsed—residue from the distant warging into Ghost—but his surroundings were once again vivid in color.

Turning slightly, he felt the warmth of another body beside him. Rhaenyra lay next to him, her bare skin warm against his, her golden-silver hair spread across the pillow. Her breathing was slow and steady, the peaceful rhythm of deep sleep.

Quietly, he got out of bed as the sun began to rise. He put on a morning robe and opened the door to the balcony. The cold air rushed over his face, a reminder of winter's approach. He wondered if, with it, would come the monsters that sometimes haunted his dreams.

Looking over the lands of the Vale of Arryn, he noticed the autumn colors. It meant the North might already be covered in snow. But what struck him most were the blackened fields in front of the castle, scars from the battle Rhaenyra and Rhaenys had fought. He had seen the gratefulness of the people for Rhaenyra during the feast the previous evening.

Last night's feast had been a pleasant one; it had not yet devolved into political scheming. It was a warm welcome for their Prince and Princess and a celebration of his wife.

But he knew it wouldn't last. Today, he and Rhaenyra would discuss the succession of the Vale. She had mentioned Lady Jeyne's proposal to have their second-born take over. It was a wise suggestion, especially considering House Royce's ascendance into the skies. Having his own child as the head of the Vale would strengthen their support should any future succession crisis arise.

His thoughts were interrupted by a groan from inside the chamber. "Did you have to walk out onto the balcony? Not everyone grew up in the North, you know," Rhaenyra grumbled from the bed.

He smiled, walking back inside. "Sorry, my dear, I forgot," he said, closing the door. "Let me warm you," he added as he climbed under the covers and pulled her into his embrace, pressing himself against her warm body. "Better, my dragoness?" he murmured, kissing her neck as his hands began to roam.

He let out a groan as Rhaenyra's hands found his cock. "Fuck me." She said. "As you command," He purred as coated his cock with spit and nestled himself between his wife's legs. "Fuck," he moaned as he entered her. She was in a mood, as she was already wet.

Gazing into her beautiful eyes, he was reminded how much he loved her. Her eyes were staring back at his, and she kissed him and pulled him closer. As he plunged his cock deeper. "Rhaenyra." He murmured as he enjoyed her heat and increased his pace.

"Yess, keep going." Rhaenyra moaned as she kissed him again. He groaned as he kept his thrust at a steady pace. Her fingers caressed his back as his attention went to her breast in his mouth. 'Were they already larger? Did babe have an effect?' He wondered as he suckled them. "Kessa," Rhaenyra exclaimed in pleasure.

He kept on as he was doing for some time and found his wife beginning to pant and cling harder to him. "Aemon, oh bye, Meraxes," Rhaenyra panted. As he felt her cunt constrict around his cock, leaving him to groan. "Fuck," He panted, feeling himself become close.

"I love you," He moaned, as came a minute or so later, and kissed her hard as he thrust three more times. Filling her up with his seed. "Hmm, I love you too. A welcoming to start the day." Rhaenyra murmured, half dazed.

After he felt himself soften, he rolled off her. "Hmm, I agree. What about a bath? Then we break our fast here, and then we speak with your cousin." He questioned. 

"Yess, order that, please." She mumbled as she kissed him again. he brushed a stray strand of hair from Rhaenyra's face, his expression softening as he gazed down at her. She let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again to meet his.

He kissed her forehead and then reluctantly rolled away, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on a robe. "I'll see to the bath and breakfast," he said, his voice still low and affectionate. "Rest here, my dragoness."

She gave him a drowsy smile, snuggling back into the covers as he crossed the room to call for a servant. Not much later, The sound of water being poured into the bath soon echoed through the room, and Aemon returned to her side to guide her gently from the bed. They shared a quiet bath and break in each other's company before they left to see Lady Jeyne.

Jeyne Arryn Solar

The guards in front opened the door, and one of them gave his wife a respectful smile. The man bore the small badge of House Belmore atop his Arryn sigil. "Hmm, probably someone she knows from the battle," he thought as he glanced at his wife.

She caught his look and spoke. "Ser Arthos Belmore—he knew my mother from when she was still alive. He said I reminded him of her."

"Ah, I see. I was wondering," he replied as they walked into Lady Jeyne's solar.

"Good morrow, my Prince and Princess," Lady Jeyne greeted them as they entered.

"Good morrow to you too, Lady Jeyne," his wife answered, smiling.

"Please, sit. I trust you had a good breakfast. The servants mentioned you both wished to dine together," Jeyne said as she took her seat. "It was a refreshing morning," he replied, settling into his seat. "The view from our window captures the beauty of the Vale well, but the scars of the rebellion are still visible."

"True, I lost two of my kin that day—their hearts darkened by treachery—and my cousin's son, young Eldric, though even with him, I will always need to be wary," Lady Jeyne replied, her voice subdued. "Yet, my youngest aunt's daughter came to my side and honored her family bonds," she added with a warm smile toward his wife.

"Yes, family is the most important. It is partly why we made this journey to the Vale," his wife said.

"Speaking of family and the rebellion," Lady Jeyne continued, "as I told Rhaenyra before, I likely would have named my cousin Arnold my heir. But he now likely burns in one of the Seven Hells. Now, all that remains is a distant cousin from our grandfather's uncle's line, the Arryns of Gulltown. But they are distant kin. Then there's Joffrey, a boy of six, the only child of my grandfather's brother's grandson, again distant. With the rise of House Royce and their heir Robar claiming a dragon, combined with Rhea's children having Arryn blood, a future succession crisis is possible if the Royces become too powerful."

She paused and looked at him. "I assume my cousin has mentioned my proposal to have a future child of yours become my heir?" Jeyne asked.

"She has, and I am not opposed to the idea. I understand why you would want this," he replied. "Yet, as it would likely be my second son, he will be in line to the throne if my firstborn son dies before his time—gods forbid he does not. So, there is a chance he may be replaced by your heir if necessary. Would you accept another heir in such a case?"

"I understand, Your Grace. It is a delicate matter. I would agree to that." Lady Jeyne replied.

"Then there are certain conditions for one of our children to become your heir," he continued. "The child will carry the Targaryen name until they inherit the Arryn seat. This right will extend to their future children, who may also tame dragons if they marry into the royal family. After that generation, they will not be permitted to tame dragons; Houses Royce and Strong hold the same conditions. The child may carry the Targaryen arms, but their children will not unless they come into line for the Iron Throne. Also, any dragon's eggs, lain in the time the dragon resides in the Vale, will be returned to house Targaryen."

"We are kin, Lady Jeyne," his wife added, "but the dragons are the power of old Valyria, and they granted our ancestors the chance to rule these lands as well as the burden of that power and rule of the realm."

"I know. My ancestors also understood the power of the dragon. Visenya Targaryen shattered our belief in the invincibility of attack when she compelled Sharra Arryn to bend the knee in the name of her son, Ronnel, when she arrived on dragonback in the courtyard of the Eyrie. I understand your concerns," Lady Jeyne said. "The power of your family lies in dragons, yet I also know of your achievements on Sea Dragon Point. They may yet raise your family to even greater heights."

"Perhaps. It was a project I devoted my life to, creating something lasting for my family—like Jaehaerys and his roads, which truly connected the Seven Kingdoms," he replied, considering the possibility of remaking the Eyrie for his future child.

"My Prince, considering that you have rediscovered the making of Valyrian steel, would it be possible to include a Valyrian steel item in a future arrangement between our houses?" Lady Jeyne asked.

He had anticipated this request. It was a sensitive topic among some of the realm's great houses that didn't possess Valyrian steel, especially the Lannisters. In his past life, Jeor had told him that Tywin once offered a king's ransom for Longclaw when he was still the lord of Bear Isle. During the hunt of Aegon nameday, Lord Janos had also approached him about the possibility. It was something he had considered, as the gold received would be valuable, and a loss of a single Valyrian steel weapon was attainable, and he had honored others with such a weapon before. Granting one to a future Targaryen-Arryn heir to the Eyrie was not something he opposed.

"Well, House Arryn is an ancient line—the first of the Andals to come to Westeros. A future child of mine may indeed be honored with a Valyrian steel blade when he takes his position as heir to the Eyrie and the Vale, especially as our houses will be more closely aligned. Making the Eyrie a future stronghold for both Targaryen and Arryn is something I can envision," he responded.

"Hmm, considering that there is a chance your future children will be dragonriders, ensuring the Eyrie can accommodate them is wise. It's unfortunate that we must leave the Eyrie during winter," Jeyne replied.

"I suggest we let these thoughts rest for now. Tomorrow, we can finalize the agreement and send copies to the King and the Citadel," his wife proposed.

"I agree, my dear. It will give us all time to reflect and consider our thoughts carefully," he replied.

"We shall," Lady Jeyne said.

"With politics out of the way, Lady Jeyne, perhaps you could tell us more about yourself and Lady Jessamyn," he said, smiling as Jeyne finally seemed to relax.

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