Chapter 23: Specter of the past
111AC
"Sometimes I wonder, is my husband clever, or is he a fool with incredible luck?" - Queen Adella Lannister
Aemon pov
*knock knock*
I knocked twice and entered the room. In it, I saw an old man hunched over a desk. The floor of the room was covered in books, a lone window allowing light to stream through it onto the desk. His hair was grey; he was clean-shaven and had more links in his chains than I'd seen in any maester. Even the grand maester hadn't had the amount he did. His eyes were locked onto a book in front of him, his hand gripping a quill.
"Knocking is made redundant if you walk in before I permit it," he said in a flat tone, his eyes never straying from the pages of the books.
"When a prince is in your vicinity, you do yourself a favour by paying attention to him, Archmaester," I said, my voice strained. I can't believe nobody was legitimately ignoring me. The gall to do such a thing! I'd applaud him for his audacity if I weren't the one being insulted.
"Noted. Now leave and do this prince a favour," he spoke as he finally looked up from the pages of his book, his violet eyes now locked on me.
Vaegon lives; it seems fantastic, mainly because this can help me if I can get him on my side. The last child of King Jaehaerys would be a sign of legitimacy almost as good as having Blackfyre, so I adjusted myself to be more courteous.
"Prince Vaegon, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, grand uncle," I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could.
"Must we play politics? Boy, I don't have the time; my work is far too important, so leave me be," he said as he rubbed his wrinkled forehead with his thumb and index finger.
"I cannot leave; it seems you are to be my mentor for my future studies," I said as I walked up to him and took a seat on one of the large piles of books in front of his desk.
"No, I don't take apprentices," he spoke sharply and with finality that suggested the stars would fall from the sky before he moved on the topic.
"Mayhaps you can make an exception for family," I said, still pushing forward as I grabbed his quill from his hand to make sure his focus was on me.
"It's precisely because you're family that I don't wish to have you around a family of fools is what I was cursed with," he said as he leaned back into his chair to look me in the eyes.
"I am no fool," I spoke in a short and sharp tone.
"That's what my father said, but look how he turned out his legacy on the verge of ruin because he picked a craven, a foolish craven at that, as his heir who's on the verge of starting a civil war born from thine air," he growled out, his eyes flushed with fury.
"Like Aegon allowing Aenys to succeed him, weak links destroy dynasties. You know this, so why do you seem so averse to joining me?" I said, looking him in his eyes, my confidence never wavering.
"Because you're no different from the Targaryens who came before you, I can see the arrogance of my brother Aemon, the sheer entitlement of my sister Saera, and your dragon, the cannibal, screams at the content of your character," Vaegon said with barely hidden disdain in his voice as his hands clenched the table and he spat out the verbal assault.
"You say I'm arrogant. How right you are, granduncle. That's pride, pride in the man I am, the first son of Alicent Hightower, the sole link that will save the great chain that is this dynasty that stems from the conquerors themselves, and mark my words, I will claim what is mine by fire and blood," I roared at him as I stood up, the pile of books spilling onto the floor from the speed of my rise.
"No armies here, boy; no speech matters. I'm not an illiterate peasant to be moved by such shallow words. What is your pride in front of the thundering of the storm lands? What is your entitlement to the northern snow? What is your fire and blood to the waves of the sunset sea? What is legacy before the stranger's palm? Your words and feelings are as meaningless as grains of sand are in Dorne," he said, his cold gaze looking through me as if I were a speck.
"If words prove meaningless, then why not allow my actions to speak for me?" I said as I returned his cold gaze.
" You'll disappoint me just like the rest of the family. A family of fools is what we are. The last vestige of wisdom died with my father. You are bound to repeat the same mistakes as your ancestors." He said his eyes never lost their intensity and conviction.
"I am no fool." I spat out my patience, running thin as my hand clenched into a fist, my knuckles turning white.
"Really, what makes you so different from the Targaryen that came before you?" He spoke as he leaned back in his chair, giving me a challenging gaze.
Words then rang in my mind, words of an old lion yet to be born, the wisdom of Tywin Lannister: "I will heed wise counsel," I said, my smirk almost working itself back onto my face.
"Oh, ho, ho, and how shall you know if advice is wise? Will you be a puppet for Otto to play with like he did your father till he was dismissed, or perhaps you'll be Maegor on a tight leash held by your mother, or will you be led around by your Lannister woman like my grandsire?" he said, smirking, his voice almost gleeful; he was clearly enjoying this.
"That is why I came to the citadel to gain wisdom and learn so I may be wise. No one is born a smarter babe than another; we all must pursue knowledge to rid ourselves of ignorance," I proudly said as I leaned over the desk to loom over him.
"Then learn and don't bother me with such trivialities," he said, not at all caring as he looked at me unfazed and uncaring, his voice returning to his natural ambivalence.
"I wish to learn from the best, and apparently that's you, so counsel me," I said my confidence ever present, I won't be moved. If he's the best, he will teach me.
"I'm wise enough to not repeat mistakes," he said. His voice sounded tired as if he was reliving some trauma.
"What mistakes specifically; joining the citadel?" I said, looking as I stood back up straight, looking down at him as he still sat.
"No, this was the greatest thing I ever did. I was wise enough to escape my foolish family. My mistake was expecting them to heed any advice." sighing as he spoke.
"I told Aemon to never let Rheanyes marry Corlys. That man who'd sell his mother for a bit more notoriety should never have possessed a dragon, and now his daughter has the mightiest of all dragons. The dragon of Queen Visenya the Conqueror, a symbol of not only legitimacy but also an unparalleled weapon.
I told my father to avoid the start of a civil war by holding the council for which Rheanyes never forgave me, as I helped 'steal her birthright.' Now his successor is throwing all that into the mud by not only naming his daughter heir whilst he has sons but also letting one of those sons claim the most vicious and second largest dragon alive and marry into the house of a lord paramount when I suggested the Kingsguard or the wall or the citadel advise, which he ignored, probably throwing away my letters without opening them.
I've advised two entitled idiots. I have no intent on wasting my time with a third, so I will walk away from this and let the dragon eat its own tail," he said in a defeated tone, his voice weary.
"That makes you a craven. No, worse, you're a craven patting himself on the back. They didn't listen to you, so what? You ran pathetic. If you want something done, do it yourself. Take the reins and lead; don't hide away and sit on your arse saying, Woe is me." I shouted in my fury as I slammed my hand down on his table, letting the room shake with a loud thud.
"Such open defiance of the king's wishes. I can add reckless fool onto the list of flaws when I put you down in the history books. Congratulations, you have an aspect of your grandsire in you," he said dismissively, looking at me unamused, his eyebrow cocked back to show his displeasure.
"Maybe, but I am building power, and soon enough it will be too late for him to curb my power without starting the war prematurely, which we both know he won't do. He will hide his head in the sand like he always does and pretend it will go away," I said in a confident tone, my chest puffed out. I was sure I knew his character from my meta-knowledge and my time with him.
"No, he won't, sadly for us all. If he'd listened to me, he'd have had you marry Rheanyra with her soiled reputation, not only to save face but to crush any thoughts of war in you or your grandfather," he said, looking haggard.
"Yet he hasn't. That shows you that the war is inevitable. Why not join me, and at least then you can be sure the king won't let your letters gather dust but rather have you on the council and heed your words, archmaester? Time to take the reins." I bellowed out, extending my hand to get him to join me. He looked at me unimpressed and then down at his hands, contemplating till he clicked his tongue.
*Tsk*
He proceeded to place a book with a red leather-coloured cover in my hands. "Read this and answer what it's trying to teach, and if you get it right within a week, I will take you on as a mentee, and if you meet my expectations through your studies, I shall consider your proposal," he said as he gave this compromise. It wasn't the best deal, but it was giving me a foot in the door, and that's all I needed.
*bang*
I closed the door and left after accepting the book. Well, that was a humbling experience. I hate old people.
-the end-
So, yeah, I had tests, so this took a while to write. I will be super busy in December and January doing tests. I will try to write, but here I wrote two chapters for the delay.
Enjoy telling me how it felt. I let Aemon's inner monologue be more free than restrained, as he's now got time to do his plans and isn't super desperate to get a dragon.
Comment and tell me what you think.
Also, Vaegon is a chad bro who gave up being a prince cause he wasn't having Alyssane choose his partner for him absolutely a wise choice if you see her track record.
Also bet a lot off you thought I wouldn't upload the second chapter didn't you well suck on this .
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