Chapter 19: Chapter 19 - Epilogue Part 2
145 AC
The Fourth Day Of The Fourth Moon
Jaehaerys Pov
The sky stretched above us, a vast, cloudless expanse of blue, as we waited at the dock of our manse in Braavos. The sea was calm, but my heart was anything but. Seven massive ships, each bearing the proud Targaryen sigil, glided toward us, their crimson banners fluttering in the breeze. It had been fifteen years since I last saw my brother. Fifteen years of silence and separation.
I turned to Alyssa, my wife, who stood beside me in a silver gown that shimmered like moonlight. Her hair was intricately braided, but beneath her composed appearance, I could see the tension in her eyes. She offered me a nervous smile, and I squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her. Our children—Rhaegar, Rhaella, Visenya, and little Aelyx—stood with us, dressed in black and red, the colors of our house. They shifted restlessly, eager to meet their uncle, the King, a man they had only heard tales about.
A sudden roar broke the silence, and we all looked up to see Sunfyre, the magnificent golden dragon, soaring above us. His wings beat the air as he let out a thunderous bellow, as if acknowledging our presence. The children gasped in awe, their eyes wide with wonder as Vermithor and Silverwing joined him in the sky, their roars echoing across the bay.
As the ships docked, the tension in the air grew palpable. The Kingsguard were the first to disembark, their white armor gleaming in the sunlight. My children stared at them with wide eyes, entranced by the legendary knights who had protected our family for generations. Behind me, my nephew shifted nervously. He hadn't seen his father in years, and the anxiety was clear on his face. I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering him a small, encouraging smile.
And then, I saw him. The King. My brother.
Aegon Targaryen, the man who once was the mirror of my own youth, had changed. His body had grown thick with age, his stomach bulging beneath his red and black robes. His once-sharp features were now softened by a wild beard, streaked with grey, and his face still bore the scars of battle, a cruel reminder of the fire that had almost consumed him years ago. He wore the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, a symbol of power and legacy, but in his eyes, I saw the weight of those fifteen years. Behind him stood Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had aged gracefully, though the years had turned his once-black hair grey.
As Aegon approached, the world seemed to hold its breath. I knelt, and so did everyone around me. The silence was thick, only broken by the distant cry of the seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves.
After a long moment, Aegon gestured for me to rise. I stood, meeting his gaze. His eyes were unreadable, a mask of stoicism that only cracked when he spoke.
"You've grown fat," he said, his voice as blunt as ever.
For a moment, I was taken aback, but then I caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. I couldn't help but smirk, glancing pointedly at his own expanded waistline. "It seems we both have," I replied, my voice light with old familiarity.
And then, to my surprise, Aegon laughed. It was a deep, booming sound that resonated in the air, filled with a warmth I hadn't heard in years. "Come here, brother," he said, opening his arms wide.
I stepped forward, and he embraced me tightly. The scent of wine clung to him, a reminder of his vices, but I didn't care. For the first time in fifteen years, I was holding my brother, and in that moment, all the distance, all the pain, seemed to fade away.
He released me and turned his attention to Alyssa. His eyes lit up with mischief, the same boyish charm he had always had. "Well, sister," he said, his tone teasing, "you look like a tavern wench in that dress."
Alyssa's eyes narrowed, and for a heartbeat, I feared she might strike him. But then she smirked, her voice as sharp as Valyrian steel. "And you look like a bloated pig," she shot back.
Our children gasped in unison, their eyes wide with shock at their mother's audacity. Aegon only grinned wider.
"Bitch," he muttered, shaking his head.
"Bastard," Alyssa retorted, her voice full of challenge.
For a moment, the tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. Then, with a sudden burst of laughter, they embraced. It was a strange sight—two people who had been apart for so long, trading insults one moment and hugging the next. But that was who they were. That was who we all were.
As Aegon moved on to greet our children, his voice warm and affectionate, my gaze drifted toward the ship. And there, at the top of the gangplank, I saw her.
My eyes were drawn to a woman who was just now stepping onto the shore.
Her hair, once a rich chestnut brown, had turned grey in places, streaked with the passage of time. Lines etched her face—lines of laughter, sorrow, and endurance. The weight of the years hung on her shoulders, but to me, she was still the same woman who had comforted me as a child, who had whispered stories of dragons and heroes in the dark of the night.
My heart clenched painfully, and I felt the sting of tears that I hadn't shed in years. For a moment, I was no longer a man grown with a family of my own. I was a boy, longing for his mother's embrace after far too many years apart.
I barely registered Criston Cole's curt nod or the murmurs of my children, who were in awe of the knights they had only heard of in tales. All I could see was her—my mother. She stood still for a moment, her eyes searching the crowd, and when our gazes finally met, I knew she had found what she was looking for.
Without a second thought, I broke decorum. Ignoring the presence of royalty, of guards, of the eyes that were undoubtedly watching, I ran toward her. My legs carried me faster than they had in years, and I could feel the tears spill over as I closed the distance between us.
"Mother!" The word was barely a whisper, choked with emotion, but she heard it. Her face broke into a radiant smile, and in an instant, she was moving toward me as well.
"My son," she breathed, and then I was in her arms, wrapped in a warmth that I had missed for so long. Her embrace was tight, as if she feared letting go would mean losing me again. I buried my face in her shoulder, and for a moment, the world faded away. There was no throne, no crown, no kingdom—only us, a mother and her son, reunited after too many years apart.
"I am sorry it took so long," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "I am so sorry."
I shook my head, clutching her tighter. "You're here now," I managed to say. "That's all that matters."
Time seemed to stand still as we held each other, the weight of the years melting away in the warmth of her embrace. But eventually, she pulled back, just enough to look at me, her hands cupping my face as if trying to memorize every detail. Her eyes were full of tears, but behind them was the fierce love that had always been there, unyielding and eternal.
"My son," she whispered again, her voice full of pride. "You've grown into a fine man."
I smiled, though my vision was still blurred with tears. "And you've grown more beautiful, Mother."
She laughed softly, a sound that made my heart ache with nostalgia. "Always the charmer," she said, shaking her head. "Just like your father."
At that moment, Alyssa approached, her steps hesitant. My mother turned to her, and I saw the uncertainty in Alyssa's eyes. But my mother reached out and pulled her into an embrace as well.
"My daughter," she said, her voice tender. "My twins."
Alyssa stiffened for a moment, then melted into the embrace, her own tears falling freely. "Mother," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
They held each other for a long moment, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness, of something finally falling into place after so many years. When they finally pulled apart, my mother looked at both of us with a smile that was full of love.
"I never thought I'd see this day," she said softly. "My children, together again."
I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over once more and gestured toward our own children, who were watching the reunion with wide, uncertain eyes. "Mother," I said, my voice catching in my throat, "there are others who need to meet you."
She turned her gaze to the small figures standing a little way off—Rhaegar, Rhaella, Visenya, and little Aelyx. The twins were holding each other's hands tightly, their eyes full of curiosity and nervousness. Visenya, ever the fierce one, stood slightly apart, her gaze locked on my mother with an intensity that was almost intimidating. And Aelyx, my youngest, was busy tugging at the servant girl's hair, oblivious to the momentous occasion unfolding around him.
My mother's eyes softened as she took in the sight of them. "My grandchildren," she whispered, her voice full of awe. She knelt before them, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out to touch their faces. "Oh, how beautiful you all are," she said, tears escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. Her voice cracked with emotion, and she smiled through the tears, opening her arms wide.
The children hesitated for only a moment before they moved toward her, wrapping their small arms around her in an embrace that was both tender and fierce. She held them close, her eyes closing as if she were committing this moment to memory, as if she were trying to hold onto them with all her might.
As I watched them, a warmth spread through my chest. This was what I had longed for—for my family to be together, to share in the love that had been missing for so long. My mother kissed each of the children on the forehead, whispering soft words that only they could hear.
It was then that Aegon approached me, his jovial demeanor gone, replaced by a more serious expression. "Brother," he said quietly, his voice low, "we need to talk. In private."
I nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders once more. But before I followed him, I looked back at my family—at my mother, my wife, and my children. They were all together, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of peace.
"I'll be back soon," I told Alyssa, who gave me a reassuring nod. She understood. She always did.
Aegon and I walked away from the warmth of the reunion, the sounds of laughter and joy fading into the distance. As we made our way to the solar, the silence between us was heavy with unspoken words.
Aegon sank into the chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. With a grunt, he uncorked his wineskin, raising it to his lips for a long swig. His gaze never left mine, sharp and penetrating despite the alcohol clouding his breath.
"You look damned young," he muttered, irritation lacing his voice. "And look at me."
I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me. "Well, the children barely give me time to laze around, and you know how Alyssa is." My voice softened at the mention of her, a smile tugging at my lips.
Aegon snorted, but the humor didn't reach his eyes. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I could feel the weight of what he wasn't saying, the unspoken words hanging in the air.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. "I should never have exiled you." He spat the words out like poison. "Damn those fucking lords."
His fist clenched around the wineskin, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the rage that had driven him through the years. But then his hand relaxed, and he let out a weary sigh.
"What's done is done," I said quietly. "There's nothing we can do to change the past."
Aegon looked at me, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. "I want you to come back with me, brother." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. When I met his gaze, I saw the resolve there—he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"And before you start about what the lords will say, fuck them." He waved a hand dismissively. "I am the bloody king. I can do whatever the fuck I want."
"It's not wise, brother," I replied softly, trying to reason with him.
"I don't care," he growled, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm giving you Sea Dragon Point, alongside rule of the towns and surrounding lands. Cregan has agreed to it." His eyes bore into mine. "It's time you return home."
His words hit me like a blow, and I could only shake my head. "Aegon, this is too much."
"You haven't heard half of it yet," he interrupted, leaning forward. "Before passing away, Grandfather wanted you to be Hand of the King." He paused, letting the shock settle in. "And I agree with him, Seven rest his soul."
I was stunned. "Aegon, you can't—"
"I can and I will," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The North, the Vale, the Stormlands, and most of the Reach respect you for what you did during the war. They fear and respect you."
He stood up, his presence commanding the room. "I have the riverlords by their balls with the royal army. They won't dare raise their voices, and that leaves the fucking Lannisters. They can complain all they want."
"There are others who could serve as Hand," I tried again, knowing full well that he had already made up his mind.
"Aemond would throttle me if I made him Hand. He'd have to leave his post as commander of the army," Aegon said, his lip curling. "Daeron is capable, but I can't stand his bitch of a wife. And I'm tired of appeasing the Lannisters." He leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "But most of all, none of them are fucking worthy. You are."
His words struck deep, and I could feel the weight of them settling in my chest. "You fought for me, you bled for me, and you killed for me. You are the reason I won the Dance of Dragons."
He began to pace, his energy palpable. "The plans you made all those years ago—they've been good, damn good. And I need you for the war to come."
I frowned. "War? What do you mean?"
Aegon stopped, turning to face me with a wild gleam in his eye. "It's time to finish the conquest that even the Conqueror couldn't complete. It's time to bring Dorne to her knees."
His words hung in the air like a challenge, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was more than just a return to court. This was a call to arms, a summons to war.
"I want you by my side," he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. He reached out, gripping my shoulder. "We started this together, brother. Let's finish it together."
I looked into his eyes, seeing the fire that burned there, the unrelenting ambition that had driven him all these years. But I also saw something else—something that made me hesitate. Was this truly the right path? Was this the destiny that awaited us?
"I need to speak to Alyssa first," I said, my voice steady, though uncertainty gnawed at me.
Aegon's expression darkened with irritation. "Did you consult her with your plans during the Dance of Dragons, brother?"
His words were sharp, cutting through the air. "Where is the Silent fury? Where is the man who made the Seven Kingdoms tremble? Where is he?"
He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "So, what do you say, Prince Jaehaerys?"
The memories of the past rushed back, flashing through my mind—the battles, the bloodshed, the sacrifices. The weight of it all pressed down on me, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting it wash over me.
When I opened them again, I looked at Aegon and spoke, my voice resolute. "Aegon, I—"
The End. ?
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