Capítulo 75: 77
Skip navigationTertius711Divide and Conquer, Chapter 1: The Day the Dragon AroseNew
8 hours agoNinety-seven years after the Doom of Valyria (AD) and five years before what would have been the date of Aegon's Conquest in another time and world (BC).
First Moon, 97 AD (5 BC)
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon stirred from his slumber as the rays of the rising sun slowly peeked through the gaps in the curtains and lit up the room. He sighed a little, knowing that he had to leave the comfort of his warm bed to begin the day, especially since it would be an important one.
As he made to try and get up from bed however, his sleep-addled mind finally registered the presence of the beautiful woman on his left using his arm as her neck rest along with the pillow. His sister-wife Rhaenys. She had cuddled herself up under the blankets but it had done little to hide her exquisite and gloriously nude body, nor those sensual curves peeking out from under the sheets.
The normal circumstances of the morning and the memory of their activities last night, the reason for Rhaenys' undress and his own as well, had him hardened and tempted to slip back beneath the covers to wake her up for some morning fun but alas there were times when other things were more important than the simple pleasures in life.
Carefully he extricated his left arm from Rhaenys' grip and made to get up from the right side of the bed. As he turned his head however he was reminded that there was someone else there as well. His other sister-wife, Visenya. Just as nude as he and Rhaenys and just as beautiful as them both. She was voluptuous and passionate though some said that her beauty was harsher than Rhaenys', more austere. Aegon loved them both all the same and found excitement in the differences between them.
Unlike Rhaenys, Visenya was already awake, her dark purple eyes, deep, indigo, and haunting stared into his own violet. They darkened even further and dilated as they roamed over his body appreciatively, an amused smile on the face of their owner.
"Good morning little brother. I see you've finally woken up," she said.
"Indeed I have dear sister. Morning to you as well. How long have you been awake?" he replied, eyeing the toned muscles along his wife's entire body. Visenya had a warrior's build, though a lean and sleek one that added to rather than detracted from her feminine beauty.
The muscles she had earned from years in the training yard beside him and Orys adorned her arms and chest though they were relaxed and deceptively soft rather than flexed and firm right now. They ran down her back to her buttocks, her waist, and legs, accentuating her curves and exceptional appearance.
Instead of answering, Visenya pressed her lips against his and he groaned as she deepened the kiss. Unlike Rhaenys who submitted easily unless she was in a particularly bold and mischievous mood, Visenya would always make him work for it, challenging him and pushing back against him, their tongues sparring for dominance as their passions rose and the fires of their lust stoked.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, years of marriage had also made Visenya just as capable of teasing and enticing him as Rhaenys was and that fed into her normal mindfulness and focus on duties and priorities. Sooner than Aegon would have liked, Visenya broke the kiss and withdrew, and he crushed the half-hearted protest before it could escape his lips knowing it would only amuse her more.
"I've not been up that long," she said as she shifted to the side to let him finally get up from the bed, steadying himself on his feet as he began putting on his undergarments and breeches.
"And you were just patiently watching me the whole time? Enjoying the view?" he teased her.
"I still am," she said as she continued staring at him unashamedly as he dressed.
He turned back to face her when he had finished. "We should wake Rhaenys. We all need to wash up and get ready."
"Yes yes. You should brush your teeth. Your breath stinks," Visenya replied to him, though there was a smirk on her face.
He rather wisely refrained from pointing out that hers was much the same, instead gesturing over to where Rhaenys was adorably asleep. The two siblings shared a conspiratorial smirk as they stalked toward their younger sister, Aegon going around the bed and Visenya crawling across it.
Rhaenys was a notoriously heavy sleeper and she had never woken up before both of them before. They had taken to increasingly creative methods of waking her up over the years and those had only increased in intensity after Aegon had married both her and Visenya.
At once Visenya yanked the covers off of Rhaenys while Aegon started targeting sites on her body he knew from experience were very ticklish to her. Rhaenys awoke in tears and laughter, begging for mercy once Visenya joined him.
"I'm awake! I'm awake!" she shouted desperately though she could not help but laugh again in tickled joy before they relented.
She had barely recovered before Aegon claimed her lips for himself and Rhaenys melted into the kiss. She whined when he broke it, her face pouting and her light lilac eyes trying to look as adorable and pleading as possible. Aegon only laughed in response and patted her head affectionately.
"Come on. You need to get dressed and washed up. Both of you. There's an important and long day ahead for all of us once we break our fast," he told his wives before he walked over to the adjoined rooms that were in their personal chambers, first visiting the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face before dressing himself in the closet with a nice pair of comfortable black trousers and a red velvet doublet.
Nothing too fancy as of yet. He was only going to break his fast and handle some routine matters for the morning after all. He would make sure to come back here and dress more appropriately before the meeting began at half past noon.
When he returned to his bedroom, he expected to find Visenya and Rhaenys had made at least some progress in getting ready, especially Visenya with her normal punctuality compared to Rhaenys' slightly more lax and laidback attitude.
Instead he found them both still naked on the bed and waiting for him. Identical mischievous smirks on their faces that reminded him more than ever that they were each other's sisters as much as they were his. Visenya was hugging Rhaenys from behind, resting her head on her right shoulder and her hands had snaked down between Rhaenys' spread legs to tease open her folds invitingly.
He had seen many variations of this many times before, several of them even more obscene and lewd, and yet his heart skipped a beat nonetheless. The sight of his two wives trying to seduce him never grew old and he had to do his best to stop his lower appendage from getting excited. Again. With middling success. Truly he had been blessed to have been born again into this life, with these two goddesses to love and cherish as his sisters and wives but sometimes he wondered if he would ever be able to realize his dreams and ambitions if they kept working together to entice him to spend all his time between their legs instead.
"I'm already dressed," he said regretfully, mustering up as much willpower as he could.
"He's already dressed he says. See Rhaenys, I told you it wouldn't work," Visenya said with faux disappointment in her voice as she withdrew her hands upward to rest on their sister's stomach instead.
"I don't know," Rhaenys said thoughtfully. "He looks like he'll crack at any moment if we keep going."
He probably would if he was being honest. And that was why he had to act now. He kissed both of them in turn with a light peck on the lips and turned to leave. "I expect to see both of you in the dining room when I break my fast. That should be around, say, half an hour from now."
"So demanding," Visenya said mockingly though he knew that for all of her teasing Visenya would always take a request like that seriously. She was punctual like that.
"Sister methinks our husband is neglecting us and our needs. Whatever shall we do?" Rhaenys said overly seriously.
"Alas with this neglectful husband deserting us for his imagined duties and responsibilities we have naught to do but see to them ourselves," Visenya said, uncharacteristically mournful.
"Perhaps we could help each other," Rhaenys proposed mischievously.
"I concur. What need have we of this husband of ours when we have each other," Visenya said dramatically.
Aegon could not help but roll his eyes. He somehow doubted they would actually do that. He had told them before that he wouldn't mind if they did but they had both told him in no uncertain terms that they were only actually interested in him. All of these dramatic words and suggestive acts were done simply to seduce him as the two had become very comfortable with sharing him.
Still he felt a need to tease them in return, a little punishment for their stunt. He suddenly surged forward with a growl, capturing Visenya's lips in a deep kiss and forcing his tongue into her mouth even as he slipped his middle finger into Rhaenys' wet folds and slowly circled and curled while his thumb gently pressed and rubbed the nub above. Rhaenys squeaked before moaning while Visenya groaned into the kiss, the normal resistance and fight she gave nonexistent due to the surprise as she let him have his way with her.
Within a few seconds he withdrew to their protests and he smirked. "Looks like you need me after all," he said roguishly.
The glare they gave him might have had more heat to it if they didn't both look desperate for him to fuck them on the spot.
He chuckled, taking pity on them. "Tonight my dear sisters. Until then, you still have half an hour to meet me in the dining room for us to break our fast together. There's a long day ahead of us and a hearty morning meal goes a long way to seeing us through it. If you can make it to sunset without trying to tempt me again on this crucial day, I have a reward for you both in mind. And if you don't, well, let's just say the consequences will be dire."
Both of them blushed, even Visenya, perhaps remembering the last time he had used the words 'reward' and 'dire consequences' in their bedroom. Aegon took pride in being able to pry such a reaction out of both of them at the same time though he knew they would not appreciate him leaving them hot and bothered in the morning. Oh well, it was what they deserved for trying to rile him up like that. And it would only make tonight all the more fun.
He left the room at last and closed the door behind him, leaving them to wash up and get dressed. He wouldn't normally turn them down when they did something like that but today had to be different. There were many things at stake and many responsibilities that they would soon have on their plates and unfortunately they would not have as much time to indulge in their bedroom activities when that came as they did now and they had to learn how to deal with it.
Soon they would be more than just the charismatic Lord of Dragonstone and his vivacious and charming wives with their infamous bedroom exploits that had become the gossip of Dragonstone Castle's servants and maids. They would be a conquering king and his warrior queens, and one day, unbeknownst to all but a trusted few, their path would lead them to titles grander even than those of mere royalty.
As he walked along Dragonstone's dark corridors to the dining room, Aegon could not help but think on how he had reached this point. The agenda for today's meeting and his interaction with his wives earlier had him thinking on everything that had led him here, how much everything had changed from that other world.
For as long as Aegon could remember, he had always been… different from everyone else around him. He knew things that he had no reason of knowing, his tutors had said that he was the cleverest boy they had ever taught because he just learned faster and got smarter, wiser, and more mature with every year.
And slowly, little by little, memories had come to him in the form of dreams, nostalgic feelings, and strange knowledge of a different life and world. One with no magic but instead great and fantastical innovations in science and technology and with a rich history full of great men and women, their failures, and their tried and tested methods for success.
Another world where a certain collection of books had been written by a certain man about the very world that Aegon lived in now and about much of the people and things he knew. There were of course many things that man had gotten wrong or had not been able to explain, for no one man could truly grasp the full breadth and width of a living, breathing world inside a mere book. But the more things had changed, the more they had stayed the same, and as far as Aegon could tell, the world he lived in now was for the most part compliant with the world that had been written on in that man's supposed 'canon'.
That was at least until he had been born. Even before he had remembered everything, the real world in which he lived had begun to evolve and change dynamically beyond the strict sequence of events and laws that man had set down in his books. 'Butterfly effect' was the name of the phenomenon if he recalled correctly. At times it made Aegon wonder if that man had truly created this world instead of simply being blessed with a vision of it for the real thing was vaster and grander than anything his books had ever shown.
A reader lived a thousand lives and the man who never read only one, that was true, but no author no matter how skilled could ever truly grasp what it was like to truly live in another world or capture its full size and grandeur in writing. They could do their best to create great works of literature and imagination to entertain the hearts and minds of many and become beloved storybooks but they simply could not represent the entirety and enormity of another world inside a book.
The world in which he lived and breathed today was more than just a storybook, more than just the imaginations of one man in that past life. It was real, and so was everyone in it, they were more than just characters in a story, they were real and living people. People he loved and trusted, people he disliked and hated, people he aspired to rule and destroy, but all the same they were real and true.
Perhaps his assimilation into this world was so easy due to the manner in which he had been reborn. By the time he had fully assimilated the memories and knowledge of his past life when he was twelve years old, he had already cemented his identity and ego as Aegon Targaryen. He remembered the events, memories, and much of the knowledge of his past life, but for the most part it was just useful information to him, and he held no emotional attachment to his old name and life and rarely thought of them beyond how they benefited his current life anymore.
He was Aegon Targaryen now and he had a purpose he was meant to fulfill. He was sure of it. He wasn't sure he believed in gods or higher beings, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what they were after by placing him here if they did exist, but something or someone had given him this position. They had given him, Aegon Targaryen, the memories and hindsight of his failures in an alternate life and the knowledge of a whole other world to ensure that this time, things were different.
And he could see why. Just thinking of that alternate version of himself and his failures in that other world never failed to make Aegon's blood boil. Rhaenys dead, Orys maimed, Visenya estranged, and Dorne allowed to remain defiant and independent after they had murdered his wife and crippled his brother because of some nonsensical letter that was never explained.
After that his incompetent alternate self didn't even have the decency to raise his heirs right or prepare for the future properly, leaving two incompetent and pathetically raised sons to try and fail to hold his dynasty together until a grandson of his that was half decent managed to turn things around before making his own stupid mistakes and sowing the seeds for a Dance of Dragons between even more incompetent descendants what would get almost all their dragons killed and lead to the extinction of the species!
Even if there was indeed some conspiracy to kill the dragons afterward as the 'readers' had theorized, the fact his alternate descendants had allowed themselves to be put in such a position was disgraceful. Once their dragons were gone they had whittled down what remained of their power and influence through sheer stupidity until they had been reduced to two children begging for scraps in the streets of Essos, humbled and exiled from the continent their family had ruled.
A kingdom conquered far too hastily with the foundations for a dynasty built on sand was what all of this told Aegon. For fuck's sake his alternate self had taken decades to realize that perhaps maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't be living in a capital city that had no walls or a wooden shanty shack fort instead of a proud stone fortress for a seat!
That alternate 'canon' version of him had failed miserably. He would not. He had already taken steps to ensure he wouldn't. He was humble and self-aware enough to know that he would probably make many mistakes along the path to greatness but one thing he knew for certain was that he would not fail.
Making his way to the dining room, Aegon ordered the servants to prepare their breakfast, remembering both Visenya and Rhaenys' favorites and listing them out alongside his own with practiced ease before he sat down and waited. It was not long before his two wives arrived in the room, having hurriedly washed up and dressed. They glared at him lightly for his earlier teasing but their glares soon turned to beautiful and cheery smiles at the sight of their favorite breakfast foods that he had ordered prepared. Hearty bread with jams, butter, and cheese, and some tarts and cakes for Rhaenys and oats and cereals with some eggs for Visenya.
Soon they sat down to eat beside him, with Visenya taking the seat at his right and Rhaenys his left, the very same positions they usually had in his bed. Not even bothering with a grace before meals (dragonlords like them were agnostic at best and atheist at worst and even with his own experiences with rebirth, Aegon was no different), they began to eat.
Sequestered between his two lovely sister-wives, Aegon broke his night fast with a hearty morning meal. His tastes for breakfast foods tended to run between Rhaenys' sweet tooth and Visenya's emphasis on strictly healthy meals fit for a soldier, though all three of them were quite flexible and perfectly willing to indulge and mix.
Health was wealth after all and as aspiring conquerors they needed to be in the best and fittest shape they could be, especially if they also wanted to enjoy a long life in the peace that followed the Conquest. At the same time too, life without its pleasures was not life worth living and good and sweet foods that weren't strictly the healthiest were part of that list, as were wines and other such food and drinks. Balance and moderation were key in this aspect, as they were for many things in life.
As they ate together, Aegon's eyes roamed briefly over his two wives, once again just taking them both in and thinking to himself how truly blessed he was to have them. Many in life were cursed to be unable to find one good wife worthy of their love and trust and he had been given two.
Seeing their happy and content expressions, he knew that he had already succeeded in one aspect that other him had failed so badly in. His marriage. He simply could not grasp the illogic in how much bias and preferential treatment the alternate version of himself had given Rhaenys above Visenya. Even if he had preferred one sister over the other, common sense dictated that they would both be treated equally for stability, especially given how important they both were to the Conquest and to the governance afterward. But then the alternate version of himself, as established, lacked common sense in general.
Unlike that other version of himself, Aegon did not love either Rhaenys or Visenya above the other. He had loved and treated them both equally for many years and he had made sure that they were aware of his intentions to marry both of them long before it had happened and when the time had come to marry them, he had made sure to marry them at the same time, in the same ceremony.
That had been a wonderful day and a good memory to recall that always brightened his day even now. It had been almost four years ago now, when he had been eighteen, Visenya twenty, and Rhaenys seventeen. His memories of the terrible deaths in the birthing bed that had been the end of many of his female descendants in that other world and that of his own mother when she had given birth to Rhaenys had disquieted him enough to insist on waiting to wed until both of his brides to be were old and strong enough to handle it.
Visenya and he could perhaps have married sooner but Aegon had insisted on waiting for Rhaenys, feeling that marrying his wives one at a time would have given them both feelings of jealousy, Visenya for having had him all to herself for a time only to have it taken away and Rhaenys for marrying her elder sister before her and leaving her out of it. Best to avoid all of that mess altogether.
It wasn't always easy to be fair and avoid treating them differently, especially if he had argued with one and not the other (though with their increasing tendency to gang up on him lately perhaps he would no longer have to worry about that). As much as many would envy him for having two beautiful wives, he would tell any who had expressed those sentiments to him that it meant nothing unless they were willing to do the work to give both wives all the love and affection they deserved. A sentiment he wished his canon self had understood.
Keeping the balance between Visenya and Rhaenys was not a simple feat. Their different interests and personalities had often made it a challenge at the best of times and it had greatly tested his time and people management skills. It had become even harder after they had wed and both would demand his presence in their bed at night as well.
For all of their seeming willingness to play with each other now, neither was truly attracted to each other or to women in general in a romantic and sexual way. Just to him. It made a very selfish and admittedly hypocritical part of him pleased that their love was only for him and not each other as well, almost like a greedy dragon hoarding his treasure. It had made the task of keeping them both happy and satisfied in their marriage harder though.
Splitting his time between them both equally as well maintaining his relationships with Orys and his other friends, seeing to his duties ruling Dragonstone and its vassals, and planning to conquer Westeros had all eventually started wearing on him. He would have little time for himself or his own hobbies and interests in privacy, the time alone that at least some people needed to reinvigorate themselves. It had eventually started affecting his sleep as well and yet still he had endured, unwilling to complain or protest when he had been so blessed.
But Visenya and Rhaenys had noticed. They had noticed because they had loved him and they had appreciated the lengths he had gone to love them both equally and it had broken their hearts to see him wearing himself out for their sakes. And so once enough time had passed for them to become comfortable with the idea and secure in his equal love for them both, they had hatched a plan together.
Remembering it still brought a smile to his face as he considered what what a lucky bastard he was. It had been Visenya's turn to have him that night and Aegon had been in for the surprise of his life when Rhaenys had been there as well. He had thought of it before of course, one did not have two beautiful wives without think of it at least once, but he had always been too afraid to raise it, fearful that they would take it the wrong way or come to doubt his love for them separate of each other.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the two of them taking the initiative on the matter to surprise and seduce him together. They had told him then that he had proven that he could love them both equally and separately and now it was time for his reward, a chance to love them both at the same time for once. He had taken it with glee.
Once had become twice, twice had become thrice, and soon almost every night was spent with both Visenya and Rhaenys and he would fall asleep each time with them both in his arms on either side. They were fortunate that their chambers had beds more than large enough to fit three people comfortably due to their wealth.
Perhaps it was something only possible because of the close sisterly bond and friendship that Visenya and Rhaenys had outside of their marriage to him, things which had allowed them to remain secure and increasingly comfortable with the situation as it stood, becoming bolder and more daring in their plays to entice him. Whatever it was, the relationship and trust between the three of them was something rare that had to be cherished and nurtured.
And yet for all their willingness to have him at the same time or even play with each other for his benefit, Aegon knew they remained devoted solely to him and expected him to reciprocate that devotion. Often both would ask him for a night alone, just the two of them, and he would always acquiesce because it was the least he could do.
He was not like the polygamous magisters in the Free Cities or the emperors and kings in the east with their great harems and many wives who meant little more to them than pretty faces and warm bodies to fuck. Both before and after they had married, he had trusted his sisters implicitly. They were his oldest friends and companions, older even than Orys who had only come to the castle when he was eleven years old after his mother and legal father had died.
Visenya and Rhaenys were his childhood friends, the ones that he had played hide and seek, come into my castle, sword fights with sticks, and all those other fond children's games in the castle that had been left grim and joyless for years by their mother's death. It was Visenya and Rhaenys who had studied in all the same lessons as him, Visenya who had been taught swordsmanship and war at the feet of Quenton Qoherys just like him and Rhaenys who had studied the fine arts, poetry, and music alongside him.
It was Visenya and Rhaenys who had been the first to hear of his hopes and dreams, his fears and doubts, his ambitions and plans to conquer Westeros, his vision for a better future. Orys and his other friends had come later and he loved and trusted them and there was a certain bond and brotherhood in those friendships that he valued as well but Visenya and Rhaenys still came first and foremost.
They were the only souls he had ever told the truth about his memories of that other life and the knowledge therein and consequently the only ones who could truly understand the full breadth and width of his ambitions as they had worked alongside him for years to plan how to avert that troubled potential future for their house.
Many a time he had considered confiding in Orys as well but he had always held back in the end. He trusted Orys deeply, he was his best friend, his brother in arms and in blood, and he had even gone so far as to publically recognize him as such, something that his canon self had never done, leaving the relationship between them to remain a widely believed rumor at best.
Ultimately however, Orys was not a true Targaryen, he would found his own house when the Conquest came, House Baratheon, and while he hoped it would be a house of Valyrian loyalists and stalwart allies to his own house, Aegon knew that bonds of brotherhood and kinship now could weaken down the line. It had happened in that other world, and House Baratheon had usurped House Targaryen in the end.
Granted the Baratheons in that world had been little more than renamed Durrandons in their culture and loyalties for the most part, something Aegon would be sure to avoid this time by giving Orys other lands and another wife, but nonetheless the knowledge of what his descendants had done to his own in an alternate world had always made him refrain from telling him the whole truth.
The same went for the rest of his friends as well. Many of them were kin just like Orys was or shared a deep bond and comradery with him but they were all of a different house and while Aegon believed in their loyalty to him, some things were just not shared outside of your own family and house. Blood was thicker than water, and the thickest blood there could be was with those who were both your sisters and wives and shared every possible interest with you.
"Lord Aegon, Ladies Visenya and Rhaenys," one of their servants bowed as she entered the dining room to greet them. Aegon recognized her as the chief maid and nanny that they had placed in charge of the nursery, Anya.
"Good morning Anya. What brings you here?" Rhaenys asked her.
"The children have woken Lady Rhaenys. The twins are calling for you all and young Lord Aegor is not accepting the wet nurse's milk… again," Anya finished, exasperated but remaining respectful and deferent.
Aegon shared a look with his two wives before speaking. "Understood Anya. Thank you for informing us. Please do your best to placate them until we have finished breaking our fast. We will be sure to come see them soon."
The three of them wolfed down what remained of their breakfast once Anya left and only ten minutes after, they were on their way to the nursery. They could hear the twins complaining and all but throwing a tantrum inside as they approached, one that halted as soon as they stepped inside.
"Kepa!" the two silver-gold haired children shouted excitedly as they toddled over to Aegon before either of their mothers. He had to resist putting on a smug smile of superiority knowing how much it would irritate them both as he knelt down to hold Aerion and Valaena in his arms and eagerly tickled and played with them once he had finished reprimanding them lightly for overly troubling their nannies.
Eventually he noticed both of his wives looking very impatient and displeased so he sent his children off to their mothers and rose back to his feet to stand and watch as they greeted them with as much exuberance as they had him.
They called them twins but they weren't really. Aerion was his son with Visenya and had her dark indigo eyes, and Valaena was his and Rhaenys' daughter and bore her mother's lilac eyes. The reason they and the rest of the castle had nicknamed them 'the twins' was because they had been born on the same day in a rather hilarious turn of events.
He had married Visenya and Rhaenys in the same ceremony and with how eager the three of them had all been, it was little surprise that he had sired a child on both of them only a short time apart. Perhaps even in the same occasion as well. Still the midwives and the Maester had all said that Visenya was due first and Rhaenys a week or two after at least.
When Visenya's due date had finally come however, approximately a year after they had wed in the Fifth Moon of 94 AD, the stress and worry for Visenya had gotten to Rhaenys and she had ended up going into labor as well. They laughed about it now but it had almost driven him mad on the day itself to have his two wives in the birthing bed at the same time and both screaming that they would never let him touch them again.
Still the trials and tribulations had been worth it ultimately and by day's end he had had both a son and heir from Visenya and a daughter and future wife for said heir from Rhaenys. Whatever feud or competition the two could have developed like they might have in the cursed canon had been buried permanently after that day. The twins had been near automatically betrothed and once they wed and had children of their own, Visenya and Rhaenys' bloodlines would be permanently mingled and flow in all of Aegon's heirs after Aerion. For now however, they were still his adorable toddlers, not even three years old yet, and he would cherish the time he had with them both when they were still so innocent and adorable.
The three of them had deliberated on what to name them after they had been born. There was a list of names they didn't like or want to use for any of their children due to the bad connotations from that other world's history. Yes, only the three of them would know or understand those connotations, but as the parents of the children in question that was more than enough.
The names Aenys and Maegor had been at the top of that list. Their alternate sons had been absolute failures in every sense of the word. Words simply failed to describe what a weak and pathetic spineless twit Aenys was, perhaps the worst king their alternate dynasty ever saw, and Maegor… Maegor had had potential but the alternate version of Aegon had failed to be involved at all in his upbringing and that had left him bitter and resentful about his father's neglect. That and a long series of events and circumstances had ultimately led him to becoming cruel and malicious and while his actions might have saved their dynasty from the Faith Militant, it had also led him to almost destroy that very same dynasty with usurpation and kinslaying.
They all knew that the situation that had produced the Aenys and Maegor of another world was unlikely to happen again in this world but still they did not want those names to hold back their children. All three of them were different from their alternate selves in at least some ways due to the differences in how they had grown up and the knowledge and foresight they possessed. Differences that expressed themselves in the best ways, such as Visenya becoming softer and more diplomatic at times in certain aspects and Rhaenys fiercer and more warlike at others, and Aegon himself was definitely far smarter and wiser than his canon self had been.
Their rough edges had been smoothened out and their partnership, their triarchy, had been perfected beyond the wildest imaginations possible in that other world. They were the best possible versions of themselves that they could be right now and they wanted that to be the case for their children as well.
Ultimately they had decided on the names Aerion and Valaena for the twins after their beloved mother and father. Both had not had the chance to be the parents and leaders they could have been but they had loved their children deeply and the three of them deeply hoped that their legacy and spirit could live on in their grandchildren.
Their mother and father had loved each other very much despite having been an arranged marriage, that is what the three of them had always heard, and what pitifully few memories Aegon and Visenya had of their mother corroborated that. Rhaenys sadly had no such memories for their mother had died in childbirth with her almost twenty-one years ago now, in the year 76 AD. Her naming her daughter for the mother that had died to give birth to her was almost a way of saying thank you and ensuring her memory lived on.
Aerion, their father, had spiraled into depression and grief for a time after the death of his wife. He had begun drinking heavily and eating greatly, caring little for his health or reputation. He had also taken to visiting the local whorehouses on Dragonstone and making copious use of the right to the First Night, more so than any Lord of Dragonstone had done before him.
Many of the dragonseeds on Dragonstone right now were the product of this, their half-brothers and sisters from their father's seed. Orys was the most senior among them, having been born late in the very same year that Rhaenys had been. He was the only one with a surname too for his legal father had been a man of some standing and pedigree from Old Valyria, even if his blood and that of his wife had been much diluted and mongrelized. When both of them had passed away in an accident when Orys was eleven and Aegon twelve, their father had had him brought to the castle as his ward, beginning the rumors that Aegon would later publicly confirm, that Orys Baratheon was Aerion Targaryen's bastard son by the First Night.
Still despite his drunkard womanizing ways for a few short years after their mother's death, their father had eventually pulled himself out of his grief and hedonism enough to be a truly good father to the three of them, doing his best to fill a role meant to be held by two people. He had rebuilt his reputation among his vassals and loved, taught, and protected the three of them for many years, earning all of their love and respect for coming back from the brink to raise them before it was too late.
And he had done it all by himself too. No one had had the status and daring to slap sense into him for he had been the sole dragonrider in the world in those years, the rider of Meraxes, Lord of Dragonstone, Head of House Targaryen. When he had seen his children growing up without both him and their mother, Lord Aerion had made the change forcefully and he had been much the better man for it.
His years of hedonism had had a lasting effect on his health unfortunately and he had passed away nearly eight years ago, from a stroke shortly before Aegon's fourteenth nameday. They had mourned him deeply because despite all of his faults, Aerion Targaryen had been a good father and it had been their pride and honor to name their son and nephew for him.
The sound of his younger son wailing snapped Aegon out of bittersweet memories and recollections. The desperate wet nurse almost pressed him into Visenya's arms, making Aerion protest as his mother left to attend to his younger brother. Aegon stepped in to console his son and explain that his mother had left to look after his little brother.
It took some effort, but once Aerion had calmed down enough, he left him and his sister to Rhaenys and walked over to the corner where Visenya was nursing their youngest child. It was funny and a little sweet. Before they married, Visenya had always insisted that unlike Rhaenys, she had no time or inclination to nurse their children and she would be handing all of them over to the wet nurse or even to Rhaenys if she was willing.
And yet when the time had finally come and their two sons had demanded their mother's milk, somehow able to tell the difference between her and the wet nurse, she had acquiesced and in some ways had become almost possessive of their sons and all too willing to nurse them whenever they had refused to take the wet nurse's milk.
Aerion had been weaned for half a year already but there was a long time left to go before the only six-month old Aegor would be. As Aegon approached Visenya, the violet eyes his second son had inherited from him turned to look at him briefly before greedily focusing back on Visenya's teats where he was sucking furiously.
"He's acting like he's been starved," Aegon observed.
Visenya almost scoffed. "He might as well have been. The wet nurse told me that he wouldn't take her milk the whole night. They had to put him in a different room because his wailing was disturbing the twins." Despite her words of exasperation, there was an almost pleased lilt to Visenya's voice as she said them.
"Well, I guess he knows who his mother is," Aegon said.
Just as he had suspected, the pleased tone in Visenya's voice grew even more noticeable. "That he does."
"What will he do when you're away though?" Aegon asked. They both knew of what he spoke.
"He'll make do. Hunger will make him drink even if the milk isn't mine. He'll adapt or starve and I know out of those two he'll choose the former. He's strong like that," Visenya said with utter surety though she held their son just a little tighter and closer as she said that.
Aegon trusted in Visenya's judgement but a part of him did worry a little. They all knew that the hour was swiftly approaching that they would have to leave their children for months, maybe even a year. They did it for their future, for their inheritance, but it would hurt them all the same, the three of them and the children alike.
Sometimes Aegon wondered if this was why the alternate version of himself had waited until after the first stage of his conquest to have children. Either that or he simply had been cursed with infertility that he did not also have. It didn't really matter did it now? The canon version of himself and his failures and misfortunes were all things that he was more than happy to distance himself from.
The three of them spent over an hour with their children before their duties finally forced them to leave the nursery and split up to see to them. They then whittled away the rest of the morning until noon seeing to all the various duties and responsibilities they had before gathering in the dining room again for a quick luncheon.
Aegon had been the Lord of Dragonstone for almost eight years now. He had barely been fourteen when his father had passed away from his stroke. Had they been any other house, their vassals might have been able to impose a regency on him since he was two years short of adulthood but they hadn't dared, not when Aegon was wise and mature beyond his years and rode Balerion the Black Dread, not when Visenya had already come of age and rode Vhagar, and not when Rhaenys had claimed their late father's dragon Meraxes despite being only thirteen years old.
None would question Aegon's right to full power and responsibility over Dragonstone, and few dared to gainsay his decisions. Even fewer saw any purpose for it. Even before he had fully regained his past memories, Aegon had always been a precocious and innovative child, coming up with many ideas and theories.
When he had fully assimilated his past life, he realized just how wrong that man had been about the island of Dragonstone. True the area directly about the Dragonmont where Dragonstone and some of the main villages was bleak and volcanic, with the terrain rocky and barren, the farmlands poor, and the islanders in the nearby villages and small port depending on the sea for sustenance through fishing.
What that man had failed to realize was that the scale he had given meant that Dragonstone was far larger than the small island he might have envisioned it to be. There were hundreds of square miles beyond the volcanic wasteland directly about the Dragonmont stinking of sulfur and brimstone. Vast swathes of land made fertile by the volcanic ash that spewed forth from the volcano.
Land which was sparsely populated at best and uninhabited at worst, left to turn into wild forests. Why? Nothing he had researched had given him a satisfactory answer beyond vague historical texts of one previous Lord of Dragonstone declaring the rest of the island a dragon preserve that would be free for the dragons to hunt and roam as they please, perhaps foreseeing a future that had not yet come when there would be dozens of dragons on the island. Some said that for a related reason, the smallfolk had not dared settle the actually fertile lands of the island out of fear the dragons would eat them or their livestock.
None of it had made sense to Aegon and once he had brought the matter to his father, he had started changing that, allowing and encouraging the smallfolk to start settling and tilling the rest of the island and Aegon had continued that policy when he had become the Lord of Dragonstone. He had also opened the long hoarded vaults of his house, the stockpiles of enormous wealth they had brought from Valyria as one of the Forty Families of old and used it to fund the development and upgrading of infrastructure across Dragonstone, Driftmark, and Claw Isle.
He had done his best to use these funds to attract skilled immigrants, artisans, and laborers from the Free Cities as well, even going so far as to purchase and free slaves with the skills he desired. He had used those funds and individuals to create new institutions or upgrade old ones. Together he and his vassals had expanded and built new shipyards, pioneering the creation and construction of new ships to carry trade missions they funded on long voyages to the Far East and bring back untold wealth for their houses and their fiefs. They had also co-opted the Dragonstone, Driftmark, and Claw Isle Maesters and recruited several scholars, wise men, and midwives from Essos along with the Alchemists' Guild to create a new school of learning on Dragonstone that would not be dangerously reliant on the Citadel.
Sadly, his past life had not been all too aware of the direct process by which many technologies and innovations that might make his life easier had been created and some that he did have an idea on how to create he had intentionally chosen not to pursue due his lack of understanding on what their ramifications would be.
His true forte in that past life had been in the study of history and its ancient empires and the ways in which they had governed and of the lore of the books written by that man about the world he now lived in. That had all given him a great deal of ideas on how to organize and structure his future realm and how to manage the logistics and strategies of his armies and institutions.
Outside of history and his study of a certain series of books though, Aegon's past life had still been possessed of some degree of what was considered general knowledge in that world and that been enough to advance quite a few fields of mathematics and science by a fair bit. Their understanding of hygiene, sanitation, and what caused disease had been much improved, leading to new practices and innovations to make everyone cleaner and safer.
His memories of the stinking cesspit of King's Landing in canon and of the luxurious plumbing of that past world had also led them to innovate and advance sewers, plumbing, and even flushing toilets and perhaps one day, they would have showers and taps with their own water pressure. It was all early days yet though, eight years was not nearly enough time to see any of these various projects to fruition and Aegon could not dedicate as much time as he might have liked to seeing these things through to completion.
He would have to leave them in the background to run by themselves under his trusted subordinates while he got to work on his true dream, the conquest and subjugation of Westeros in a way that would build the foundations for his dynasty in concrete.
Yes, they had concrete. It was perhaps their greatest success to date, helped in no small part by their perusal of forgotten old Valyrian texts in Dragonstone's library that had spoken of a non-magical substitute to dragonstone for a building material. Experimentation with the ingredients mentioned in those texts, which included among them volcanic ash, and guided by Aegon's precious few memories of what the old world had done to create concrete had led to the rediscovery of the substance.
Or perhaps simply their own discovery of it since Aegon doubted the knowledge had been completely lost in the Free Cities. Then again with how devastating the Century of Blood had been, perhaps it truly had been.
The ninety-seven years since the Doom of Valyria had been utterly devastating for Essos. Dothraki had ravaged and destroyed entire civilizations, cities had been sacked, precious knowledge, culture, and history all lost to the flames, and the Daughters of Old Valyria had turned upon each other and torn each other to shreds when they should have been united against the Dothraki savages.
In the midst of this, Aegon had been asked by both Volantis and the opposing coalition led by Braavos and made up of all the other Free Cities to join their side no less than nine times since he had become the Lord of Dragonstone. His father had refused any such requests and his alternate self had eventually joined the war on the side against Volantis. Aegon saw no reason to do the same.
There was little chance in his opinion that the tired and exhausted Volantenes could conquer all of the Free Cities even if they did reclaim Myr and Lys. It was in his interests for the war in Essos to continue as long as possible because the chaos would distract Braavos and other perfidious interlopers from interfering with his ambitions in Westeros. It would also allow him to attract many skilled immigrants of Valyrian descent seeking peace and prosperity away from the war-torn Free Cities and import them to Westeros once he conquered it, giving him a class of similarly cultured nobles, administrators, artisans, merchants, laborers, and more to settle his new conquests.
He had already begun that process. He had threatened each of the Free Cities that he would join their opponent's side in the war with his three dragons if they did not bribe him to stay out of it. Those bribes came in many shapes and forms, massive caches of gold, silver, jewels, and even some dragonbone and Valyrian steel trinkets, priceless amenities such as silks and spices and other such goods, luxury or otherwise, lucrative trade contracts and arrangements, and many, many immigrants, in the form of skilled and capable individuals in many diverse trades and fields, slave or otherwise, and even a few sellsword companies.
As an example of this, he had already extracted an oath sworn to the Fourteen from the Volantene Triarchs that they would not spill the noble Valyrian blood of the Lyseni, Myrish, or even Tyroshi nobles if and when they conquered those cities and instead would simply exile the defiant elites to Dragonstone where he would welcome them and put them to use in his conquered territories. And that was in addition to the tribute they had paid him in monies, goods, and the rest.
His extortion of the Free Cities had enormously enriched himself and all of the lands sworn to him and furthered their development as fiefs so much that he honestly questioned why his ancestors hadn't done it earlier. It turned out that riding dragons was a lucrative moneymaking scheme.
In the free time he had, he had also dedicated himself to the study of magic alongside Visenya and to a lesser extent Rhaenys. His father's death from a stroke at such a young age, much like his canon self, had reminded him sharply about his own mortality and the dangerous world he lived in. It had made him take his own health even more seriously than he already had, leading to the healthy diets of him and his family, and it had also made him consider that there were more dangers to his life than just unhealthy hedonism like his father had partaken in.
There were many dangerous and magical threats in the world, Qartheen warlocks, Faceless Men, shadowbinders, red priests, skinchangers, greenseers, and so much more. If he was to truly feel that he and his family were safe, they had to reclaim their birthright as Valyrian sorcerers and mages.
They had already done their best to learn some lore from the Alchemists and others with some magical knowledge that they had recruited to their new academy from across Westeros and Essos but much of the magical lore that you would expect one of the Forty Families of Old Valyria to possess was just gone. Lost to the ages in a mere eleven decades since their family had left Valyria. It was absurd.
There were rumors abound that there were missing vaults hidden across Dragonstone where much of this arcane lore was hidden but Aegon had never been able to find them. Still the library and the vaults they were aware of did have some magic lore for them to study and learn. This included three glass candles and a manual on how to use them, grimoires on novice to advanced pyromancy, and a single precious text on the basics of blood magic. All things their father and his predecessors since at least Aegon the son of Gaemon the Glorious had forgotten, perhaps as a result of the chain of unfortunate and unlikely events that had taken the lives of Maegon, Aerys, Aelyx and Baelon in rapid succession, leaving his grandfather Daemion as the Lord of Dragonstone.
Regardless Aegon and his sister-wives had devoured and studied as much as they could of this ancient lore and all the other histories and texts of Old Valyria and in the tribute they extorted out of the Free Cities, they had amassed an even more impressive collection and grown their knowledge further. Their magic was nowhere near as advanced as Aegon would like it to be but it was more than the pittance his canon counterpart had bothered to learn so there was that.
In addition to magic they also possessed several tomes on dragonlore and rediscovered even more in the buried vaults or the dusty back shelves of the library. Aegon had ensured that these were copied by a few trusted scribes along with all of the magical grimoires and other texts they had many times over and stored in all of the vaults of Dragonstone which were conveniently fireproof and sealed to the elements. No matter what this precious knowledge could not be lost.
All of this preparation had led up to this day, to this meeting. Once he and his sisters had finished with their luncheon they had changed into more appropriate outfits for the impending meeting, dressing like the conquering king and queens they aspired to be, dressing to impress in strong chainmail and leather with some fine doublets and dresses, and all of them in their colors, black and red.
House Targaryen hadn't actually had colors or a sigil or house words like the Andals and First Men did but upon taking his lordship Aegon had changed that and he had seen little reason to deviate from the perfection in his memories. A three-headed red dragon breathing red flames on a field of black had been their sigil ever since and their words, Fire and Blood, for the magic that was their birthright, for the punishment they would unleash on all lesser men who dared to defy them at their peril.
That device and those words proudly adorned the banners that hung along the walls of the staircase leading up to the top of the Stone Drum tower. Aegon's anticipation built as he and his wives climbed the stairs almost like they were ascending to their destiny. Finally, they reached a dark ebony door that opened to reveal a great round room that covered the entire top of the tower, with four tall windows overlooking the surrounding land in the cardinal directions, north, south, east, and west.
All who were present rose from their seats to greet them with a bow and Aegon accepted their deference graciously. "Thank you. At ease. Take your seats my lords and gentlemen," he said as he walked over to take his own seat, a fine and raised wooden chair on a dais that had been placed directly in front of where Dragonstone was represented on the table.
There was after all, no way that they could plan their conquest without the famous Painted Table now could they? It was a large and long block of wood, carved exquisitely in the shape of the continent he sought to rule. His carpenters had sawed out each bay and peninsula until the table was jagged and sharp.
Upon the surface his artists and mapmakers had painted perfectly the Seven Kingdoms as they stood today; rivers and bays, hills and mountains, lakes, swamps, and forests, castles, cities, and market towns… but not a single border. It was all one. One continent, one realm, for one throne to rule. That throne did not exist yet, but Aegon knew that forging it was his destiny.
As he took his seat, Visenya and Rhaenys took their own at his right and his left. To Visenya's side sat their half-brother Orys and about the rest of the table were all of their vassals, their closest friends and allies, and their new partners and associates.
From Dragonstone there was the Master of Arms, Quenton Qoherys who had taught Aegon himself along with Visenya, Orys, and almost every other soldier in the castle, Quenton's two sons Daeron and Monford, as well as Gaemon Gryvetheon, Josua Scales, and a few other knights and trusted sergeants from the army that had been raised on Dragonstone. Many of these men were close friends of Aegon and he had the utmost trust in their loyalty and skills.
From Driftmark hailed their uncle Lord Daemon Velaryon and all three of his sons, their cousins, Aethan, Jacaerys, and Corlys. Corlys had barely come of age at six and ten though he was already a supremely skilled warrior and Jacaerys and Aethan were around the age of Aegon and Visenya respectively. The Velaryon levies and their fleet had also been prepared and readied to bear their armies to the coast
In addition to Lord Velaryon was also Lord Crispian Celtigar from Claw Isle. In attendance beside him were his four sons Alton, Alyn, Arthor, and Ardrian (the eldest of whom was almost thirty and the youngest was Rhaenys' age) and his Clawmen vassals, Lords Boggs, Brune, Cave, Crabb, Hardy, and Pyne.
House Celtigar had long claimed overlordship over Crackclaw Point but they had failed to enforce their claim on their own and decades of petitions to Dragonstone for House Targaryen's aid had gone unanswered until Aegon had taken up the lordship eight years ago. He had agreed to help enforce House Celtigar's claim over the peninsula by dragonfire on the condition that they contribute their levies, fleets, and treasury to his conquest eagerly and he would hold them to that oath.
Though he knew that the Clawmen had eagerly become direct vassals of his own house in that other world, Aegon had ultimately decided that his plans for Westeros' division and administration would be best served with House Celtigar given oversight of Crackclaw Point and the Clawmen had begrudgingly conceded to his demands for that. He had also felt that House Celtigar deserved a reward for its long loyalty and service to his house and they had not let him down. To his credit Crispian had done well winning them over in the past eight years and the region had prospered under House Celtigar and House Targaryen's investment so Aegon was sure the matter would settle itself in the end.
From the three islands and from Crackclaw Point, and combined with the eight years that they had spent developing and investing in those fiefs, they could now raise a force of some six thousand soldiers from across the entirety of Dragonstone's current domain, and that was excluding the manpower needed to man the fleets of House Celtigar, House Velaryon, and the fledgling fleet directly owned by House Targaryen.
Accordingly, Aegon had also pioneered the formation of new institutions and military units. First was the Targaryen fleet, the aforementioned fledgling fleet that had joint military and mercantile purposes. One day when his dynasty and their realm was more established, Aegon would expand and refine it further and make it a true professional navy but until then the fleet worked well enough in its current form and would be working in concert with the Velaryon and Celtigar fleets, sellsails, and any commandeered merchant ships to ship all of their troops to the mainland for the conquest of the Riverlands.
The second military unit Aegon had founded was the one he was proudest of right now. Taking inspiration from the Kingsguard, the Dragonkeepers, the gold cloaks, and the Targaryen household guard of that alternate world as well as his past life's memories of another bodyguard unit that had protected another ruling family with draconic affiliations in a game that had been played like it had a written story and a mummer's play to show its events, Aegon had created the Dragonguard.
His loyal Dragonguard wore gleaming black plate armor which was patterned to resemble dragon scales. Their helms were crested by a row of dragon scales that continued down their backs, diminishing downwards. Beneath their plate and helms they wore black chainmail hauberks and comfortable undershirts dyed gold. The same shade of gold proudly hung from their shoulders as long flowing cloaks.
House Targaryen's gold cloaks, their proud royal and household guard. They were tasked with the defense and protection of Aegon's whole family, sworn to keep their secrets and die to protect them. They were also responsible for the guarding and protection of their dragons wherever they might lair, day and night, and for overseeing the garrison and patrols in their castles and fiefs. Unlike the Kingsguard, their numbers were not limited to seven (there were around two hundred of them at the moment and growing) and they were not forced to be celibate and hold no lands and take no wives, though they must have their liege's permission if they wished for those.
He had taken inspiration from a certain Golden Company that he did not expect to ever exist in this world for the motto and war cry of his Dragonguard. 'Our loyalty is as good as gold' was their motto and 'Beneath the gold, the bitter steel!' their war cry.
The Lord Commander of the Dragonguard was none other than Aegon's good friend Gaemon Gryvetheon, a stalwart soldier of the age of thirty from a minor Valyrian house that had followed House Targaryen to Westeros, similarly to House Qoherys. Many of his other young friends had their place in the Dragonguard's ranks as well, including Josua Scales, both Daeron and Monford Qoherys, his young cousin Corlys Velaryon, and Lord Crispian's two youngest sons, Arthor and Ardrian.
Though he did also prefer to have time alone, Aegon was not nearly as much of a loner as his alternate self had been. That person had confided only in his wives and in Orys, Aegon was different to him. More gregarious and charismatic, more able to make genuine friendships. While Visenya, Rhaenys, and Orys were undoubtedly closest to him, he had a long list of friends that included nearly everyone of significance on Dragonstone, mutual respect and understanding with his uncle Lord Daemon and Lord Crispian of Claw Isle and close bonds with their sons, the heirs of House Velaryon and House Celtigar. He was particularly close to Aethan, Jacaerys, and Corlys Velaryon since they were his own kin, his first cousins.
While the Dragonguard served the roles that many disparate and separate units had done for House Targaryen in that alternate world (and in a much more efficient way in Aegon's opinion), he had also created a Dragonkeeper Order of his own though they were less like the knights in the book written by that man since that part was already filled by the Dragonguard, and more like the scholarly stablehands in the mummer's plays that had been made about those man's books.
Those mummer's plays were even more infuriating to Aegon than the books of that other alternate world were and they had deviated so much in many aspects they were practically unrecognizable as being the same world as this one in any way. He remembered his past life had particularly despised those plays. Still they did have a few sparsely scattered ideas of worth and this was one of them.
The Dragonkeepers that Aegon had created in this world were entrusted with a portion of House Targaryen's dragonlore and its maintenance and preservation. They also put this knowledge to use tending to their dragons and seeing to the health of the adult specimens, the young drakes, the hatchlings, and the eggs, while the Dragonguard worked alongside them and guarded both them and the dragons.
Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes were all adults and ridden by himself and his wives, they would be accompanying them on campaign and they needed minimal protection from thieves or tending to but Aegon felt better about leaving Dragonstone knowing the Dragonguard and the Dragonkeepers were around to protect his children and their dragons. They had laid eggs in the cradles of the twins and Aegor and all three eggs had hatched. Two red dragons for the twins that they had named Caraxes and Meleys and an aggressive and black young hatchling with wildfire-green eyes they had named Arrax that had hatched for Aegor.
Apart from all of these units and orders, Aegon had also created the beginnings of a standing army that he had named the Legion, after the Valyrian legions of old which had themselves been based on the lockstep legions of Old Ghis that Valyria had fought against. Slavery was hardly the only thing Valyria had learned from the Ghiscari and Valyrian legions had become famed as one of the finest and most elite armies in the entire Known World before the Doom.
His legion was comprised currently of about a mere thousand men as they were recruiting mostly from the aforementioned six thousand that could be raised feudally from Dragonstone and its vassal domains in the form of levies, retinues, sergeants, men-at-arms, knights, and so forth. Their discipline was also nowhere near that of the Valyrian legions of old and much of the discipline, legacy, and culture of those legions was gone.
Aegon had come up with a solution to solve all of those however, when he had hired for himself the services of the Twelfth Valyrian Legion some four years ago now. More commonly known as the Lost Legion nowadays, the Twelfth was perhaps the last true Valyrian legion left in the world that still kept the doctrines and traditions from before the Doom, even if they only had four-fifths of the five thousand strong standard size of an old Valyrian legion in their ranks today. They had been stationed in North Valyria at the time of the Doom, in the city of Mantarys, and they had pledged their allegiances to Aurion the would be Emperor of Valyria before he had disappeared in the Doom with six other legions.
After Aurion and his six legions' disappearance, the remaining Valyrian legions across the Free Cities had all fallen apart or been destroyed until none were left save the Twelfth which had reinvented itself as a sellsword company. Until recently they had still been based in Mantarys and had built branch offices in Tolos, Elyria, Meereen, and Volantis, fighting in many wars and campaigns in both Slaver's Bay and the Free Cities and recruiting from all over Essos.
Though recruits need only know how to speak High Valyrian and could be taught it if necessary, by tradition only those with proven descent from Old Valyria could become officers in the Lost Legion and over the years this requirement and the prestige of being the last Valyrian legion had drawn many of noble Valyrian blood from Volantis, Lys, and more to join the Legion and form an elite officer class alongside the descendants of the original Valyrian officers who had commanded the legion at the time of the Doom.
Seeing this in the histories and texts on Dragonstone, Aegon had taken flight four years ago hoping to recruit them to his side as the lord of the last of the Forty Families and with promises of wealth and good fortune in Westeros. The Lost Legion had petitioned House Targaryen to conquer Essos and restore the Freehold many times but it seemed his ancestors' repeated refusals had soured their opinions of him. More than enough time had passed for the Legion's ancestral loyalty to the dragonlords to fade away as well and Aegon's frank admission to the Legion that he had no interest in imposing slavery on Westeros had made most of them uninterested.
Despite this there had been a small faction within the Legion whose ancestral loyalties to the dragonlords were still strong, their ambitions large enough, and their care for the institution of slavery not that great. They had pushed to accept his proposal and after Aegon had returned with a massive sum of money and treasure from extorting the Free Cities, the entire Lost Legion had agreed to sign a contract with him to teach their ways to the 'soft-bellied Andals' among his levies and fight his enemies for him on the battlefield for a period of ten years subject to renewal at contract's end.
It was Aegon's hope that by then most of the Lost Legion would have grown accustomed to Westeros and the lack of slavery there and the faction that had wanted to join him from the start would have grown even larger. The Lost Legion would be the perfect veteran core to build his standing armies around and if even a quarter of the four thousand strong legion stayed by his side once their contract expired, his goal of one day fielding dozens of professional legions like Valyria of old might be more easily realized.
Legate Yavo who commanded the Lost Legion was not yet swayed to Aegon's vision but his second, Lieutenant Legate Valoquo was and Aegon hoped that once Yavo and the others who were still undecided saw what his vision truly was after the conquest of the Riverlands, they would be inspired to stay as well. Until then he could not convince them with words alone, deeds had to be performed as well to prove to them that he was a dragonlord worthy of their lifelong loyalty and service.
Legate Yavo was present in the Chamber of the Painted Table today representing the Lost Legion, along with the knights and soldiers in command of Aegon's legion, his own personal forces from the island of Dragonstone. They had formed a good working relationship between the two legions and Aegon hoped that good relationship would enable their merger in the future.
Apart from Legate Yavo and all the other Dragonguards, knights, lords, officers, and friends that Aegon had mentioned earlier, there were also leaders of other sellsword companies that he had hired for this particular campaign, only a year or two at most. The tribute of the Free Cities had been lucrative and Aegon had demanded the contracts for many of the best sellsword companies in that tribute as well and many of them were thus represented by their captains and commanders here today.
That included Gyllaro and his 2250 Bright Banners, Rhagas and the 3000 strong Company of the Cat, Noho and his 2250 Iron Shields, Thoren and 2250 Gallant Men, Aronos and 1000 Men of Valor, Innyllo and 800 Long Lances, and Lollo and his Second Sons, Pynto and his Stormcrows, Yarridos and his Adventurers, and Aerio and his Free Company, with each of the latter four having around five hundred men.
In total, including his legion, the Lost Legion, all of his vassal levies, retinues, knights, sergeants, men-at-arms, and all of the sellswords, free riders, and hedge knights that he had recruited, Aegon had around twenty thousand men, not counting the manpower in the fleets, sellsail or otherwise.
It was at first glance, a mismatched and uncoordinated army but Aegon had had much time to train and drill his makeshift army into a truly united fighting force and put his charm and charisma to use forming a working relationship with and even between all of the unit leaders in question. He had chosen these particular sellsword companies because apart from the Lost Legion, they were the most prestigious in Essos and the most well known for their discipline, honor, and oathkeeping.
Aegon had already impressed upon his entire army, sellsword and otherwise alike, that unless allowed otherwise, looting and raping were to be kept to a minimum as they conquered since they hoped to turn the local Riverlanders to their side against the Hoare tyrants. He knew such things could not be wholly stopped in war but he was optimistic that he could keep it relatively low. He paid his soldiers handsomely enough for them to obey and if any of them stepped out of line they would know the wrath of the dragon.
He was not nearly as attached to any of the other free companies as he was to the Lost Legion but Aegon would admit he had grown somewhat fond of some of them and while he knew that all of the sellsword companies and their captains (apart from the Lost Legion) would return to Essos once their contracts expired after the conquest of the Riverlands, he knew that many within their ranks had expressed their intentions to resign from their companies and join either the Lost Legion or his own standing Legion and continue on in his service, wanting the good and reliable pay and meaningful work to continue.
His good relations with those who would be returning to Essos would also ensure their willingness to return and fight for him in future campaigns should he hire them again and with the way he had planned his Conquest, he imagined that would be very useful indeed.
And the best part of it all was that Aegon had barely tapped into his own family's reserves for any of this. What he had taken out at the start had since been more than replenished and he was currently paying for his entire campaign and all of the infrastructure developments and other investments in his fiefs entirely out of the tribute he had received from the Free Cities.
Extorting the Essosi for near unlimited funds continued to be a wonderful policy. He would have to do it again once he had finished in the Riverlands. Hopefully the wars in the east would continue without his interference for decades more to come. They were immensely profitable for him.
With everyone having arrived, Aegon began the meeting with a speech.
"Friends, allies, vassals, captains, I thank you all for coming here today. It has been many years of preparation and much treasure has been spent to get us to this point but at last the time has come. Two weeks from now, as the First Moon of this ninety-seventh year after the Doom of Valyria dies, we will begin our conquest… no our liberation of the Riverlands.
"For too many years now the good and honest men and women of the Riverlands have slaved away under the yoke of Harren the Black and his ironmen. We have all heard of the atrocities the ironmen commit all over the Riverlands. How they seize the rightful lands of noble men for unjust reasons. How they rape and despoil maidens through the excuse of the First Night, how they force anyone they please to toil away on Harren's vanity castle, how he has beggared the Riverlands and even his homeland in the Iron Islands to ornament his dream. Harrenhal he calls it. How arrogant.
"Harren has not even spared the trees of all things! He has cut down and despoiled every weirwood in the Riverlands to serve as rafters and beams in his fortress and crushed any dissent brutally."
That particular point had surprised Aegon a little when it had happened five years ago, reminding him sharply that the world he lived in was no longer bound by that man's chain of events and rules. In 'canon' Harren had cut down three thousand-year-old weirwoods for Harrenhal but given that the Andals had cut down High Heart and many other groves during their invasion, where on earth had those weirwoods come from?
The answer it seemed was from the godswoods of every single castle in the Riverlands, from every last grove and wild weirwood that the Andals had not touched, and when even that had not proven enough, Harren had dared to do what none had even attempted since the Andal Invasion. He had attacked the Isle of Faces in the midst of the Gods Eye just south of where his castle had been raised and to the shock of the continent he had actually succeeded.
Perhaps time and the devastations the First Men and Andals had wreaked upon the now forgotten Children of the Forest and their Old Gods had weakened whatever magic had protected the Isle of Faces, perhaps the ironmen had simply had access to more resources than the roving Andal war bands who had attempted it before had, but the Isle of Faces had fallen to Harren Hoare, stunning all of Westeros.
Just like the Children of the Forest could not prevail at High Heart despite their magic thousands of years ago, the Green Men did not prevail against Harren the Black's ironmen, the first who had even tried to assault the island in a thousand years. They had been slaughtered to the last man and once they were all dead, Harren had chopped down every single weirwood on the sacred island before claiming it as part of his personal demesne and renaming it 'Hoare Isle'.
The newly renamed Hoare Isle was still mostly forested but already ironmen were felling the remaining trees to provide timber, firewood, and building material for nearby Harrenhal and clearing the undergrowth and shrubs to become farmland that would help feed Harren's mighty castle.
The desecration of the weirwoods had been too much for House Blackwood to bear and with all of the other atrocities the ironborn had committed and some lasting cultural reverence for the godswoods even among believers in the Seven, much of the Riverlands had rebelled with them. Sadly, their rebellion had been crushed by Harren in short order and Houses Blackwood, Mallister, Harroway, Cox, and Darry had been among those who had been attainted for treason with their lands and fiefs given to Harren's sons and ironmen nobles.
Aegon had considered aiding their rebellion and becoming King of the Rivers and Hills in that way but five years ago he hadn't even yet married his sisters and he had been far from prepared. Now he was though, with an heir, a spare, and a daughter from his lovely wives, and a strong and mighty army. The leaders of said army were looking at him expectantly though, wondering why they should care about Harren's atrocities. Aegon smiled.
"I know those looks in your eyes. Many of you are wondering why I have brought all of this up I can tell. It is unfortunate and tragic but worse things happen across the world every day and none of us here are Rivermen so why should we care?
"I will tell you why. It is because Harren's tyranny over the Riverlands presents an opportunity, one where the downtrodden and oppressed people of the Riverlands are crying out for a savior, for a liberator. We will be those liberators. That is why I have asked you all not to plunder and rape if possible, save those deeds for the ironmen and I can promise you there will be much opportunity for it. Even if there are not, I can assure you that I have funds aplenty to ensure that you are more than compensated for your service.
"We will do a good and great deed casting down Harren the Black and ending his reign of tyranny and terror and most importantly of all we will make ourselves richer and more fortunate in doing so. Loot aplenty there is to divide from the ironmen's ill-gotten gains, lands left empty and in need of new lords and rulers once their ironborn usurpers are removed, and the gratitude of all of the Riverlands, the friendship of their men and the affections of their women, willing and wanton for their saviors and not forcibly taken.
"Lord Daemon, imagine the wealth and power that awaits House Velaryon once we succeed. Ser Gaemon, Ser Josua, can you hear the glorious songs that awaits those chivalrous heroes who cast down the rapists and tyrants? Captain Gyllaro, can you see in your mind the sheer amount of treasure and booty that would be the rightful share of the Bright Banners or any other company that is first through the gates when we storm Harrenhal and root the Black Tyrant out of his keep and hang him for the crows on gibbets?"
As he said those words, the men in question and all in the room who desired similar things straightened, fully captivated by his words and paying him rapt attention.
"That is why we care for the Riverlands my lords and gentlemen, and that is why we sail in two weeks' time to liberate them, for it is not only in their interest that they be saved from Harren the Black, it is in ours," Aegon finished to a round of thunderous applause.
With their hearts full of greed and desire and fully motivated to perform after that rousing speech, Aegon and his men then began planning their invasion. With their foothold on the continent in Crackclaw Point under House Celtigar, the vast majority of their army would be and had already been deployed to that front.
In two weeks' time once the final preparations had been complete, they would sally forth to the west under the command of Visenya, Orys, Lord Celtigar and his Claw lords, and the bulk of the sellsword captains to seize Rook's Rest and Maidenpool before marching up the Bay of Crabs and the Trident toward Harroway and Harrenhal.
Meanwhile, Aegon, Rhaenys, the Velaryons, and the two legions would be deploying by ship to seize the city of Duskendale and turn Antlers, Brindlewood, Sow's Horn, Stokeworth, Rosby, Hayford and all the other lordships until the Blackwater Rush and the Gods Eye to their side and join their forces to their own before regrouping with Visenya and Orys' army in the north for the march on Harrenhal.
They anticipated by that point reinforcements would have already arrived to support Harren from the eastern Riverlords and the Iron Islands so their dragons would be essential for winning those battles as bloodlessly as possible. They had also prepared ways to sway Lords Tully, Piper, Vance, Frey, and many more to their side against the hated Hoares.
The war meeting continued for several hours as they discussed strategies, tactics, logistics, and army cohesiveness and inter-unit relations and settled some agreements for division of spoils and so forth. When the meeting finally concluded, the sun had begun to set, leaving Aegon alone in the room with his most trusted advisors.
Once all the sellsword captains and lower ranking knights and men-at-arms had left, all that were left in the room with Aegon were his wives Visenya and Rhaenys, their brother Orys Baratheon, the Lord Commander of the Dragonguard Gaemon Gryvetheon, Josua Scales, Quenton Qoherys and his sons Daeron and Monford, and Lords Velaryon and Celtigar and all of their sons as well. They were Aegon's inner circle. His closest kin and friends. If there were any individuals who should know what his full plans were, it would be the people in this room.
Orys turned his gaze upon him then, having taken a seat across from him at the table with all of the others having left. His deep purple eyes were so dark they looked almost black in the fading sunlight.
"Is it wise to put so much trust in sellswords?" his brother asked him once they were sure the sellswords in question were out of earshot.
Aegon shook his head. "Of course not. And I do not trust them. I do however trust in their greed and self-interest. Greed never fails to motivate men like them and men like them will always back the winning side. We will always be that winning side and they know it.
"Dragons cannot hold territory or garrison it, that is why men are needed and sellswords can help supplement the gaps in our manpower until we can fill them in the coming years with recruits from the Riverlands. And they do have other uses beyond simply providing bodies for us. They are skilled soldiers by trade and that makes them more fearsome by design than any levied peasant ever would be. The more of them that become inspired and incentivized to stay with us and join us permanently, the stronger the Legion will become without having to rely on the goodwill of the fickle Andals and First Men nobles," he said. His brother and many others in the room nodded in understanding and acceptance at his words.
"I have already promised many of you great swathes of land and positions of authority when we conquer the Riverlands," Aegon continued, looking at the men in question. His uncle, Daemon Velaryon, his brother, Orys Baratheon, Lord Crispian Celtigar, Ser Josua Scales, and his old mentor, the Master-at-Arms of Dragonstone, Quenton Qoherys.
They all nodded in acknowledgement at his words and Aegon turned the others in the room. His Lord Commander might not able to rule a fief as lord while he commanded the Dragonguard but that did not mean he was obligated to serve for life or did not want a fief to pass on to his own children. His younger cousins Jacaerys and Corlys and the younger sons of Lord Celtigar and his mentor Quenton no doubt all hoped for something as well. Aegon meant to assuage their worries.
"For those of you who have not received my guarantee for lands and titles in the Riverlands," he said, addressing them. "Worry not, for you will have your fair share of honors and fiefs in the near future. All I ask from you is patience."
"Understood my lord," Jacaerys said. "But if I may ask. Where will these lands and titles be if not in the Riverlands?" he asked deferentially.
Aegon looked pointedly at the Painted Table. "You underestimate my ambitions cousin," he said as he rose to his feet.
"Look at the table. The carpenters and painters did a wondrous job, perfectly carving and sawing this table into the shape of Westeros and illustrating in painstaking detail every river and lake, every swamp and forest, every hill and mountain, every castle and city and yet they forgot the borders. Or did they? Perhaps the lack of borders altogether is intentional not a mistake."
He saw the dawning look of realization in the eyes of those present and smiled. "Some of you already know this for I have confided in you before, but for those of you that don't, allow me to confirm it to you now my trusted friends and allies. The Riverlands are just the beginning."
As he paced around the table and felt the attentive eyes of his whole inner circle upon him, Aegon continued. "In two weeks' time I will declare myself King of the Rivers and Hills. By year's end I expect my claim to that title by right of conquest to be recognized by all the Riverlords and all the other kingdoms of Westeros. But we are not stopping there.
"Within six years, once we have consolidated our rule in the Riverlands and rebuilt and expanded our armies, we will conquer again. Be it the Westerlands, the Vale, or the Iron Islands, or one of the other kingdoms. And then we will stop once more and divide up the spoils of the conquest and consolidate our gains before we move on to the next campaign. And with each campaign the gap between them will shorten as our power base strengthens.
"We will repeat this process, slowly and steadily, kingdom by kingdom, castle by castle, until one day all of Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, from the Sunset Sea to the Narrow, from the Summer Sea to the Shivering, and perhaps even beyond in the Stepstones, Tyrosh, Lys, and the Disputed Lands, they will all submit and pledge fealty to one banner. My banner. The banner of House Targaryen; the three-headed red dragon breathing red flames on a field of black. Our banner. For when the dust settles it will no longer be the standard simply of House Targaryen but that of the Empire of Westeros as a whole."
He noticed some surprise in the eyes of the others at his words and he smirked. "Yes, that is right. My final aspiration has never been to be the mere conqueror and king of one or even two of these Sunset Kingdoms. My goal has always been to conquer them all and unite and forge them into one people, one nation, one empire."
"All Hail Emperor Aegon!" his ever loyal champion Lord Commander Gaemon Gryvetheon shouted then and Aegon smiled.
"I thank you for your loyalty my friend. But the time is not yet right for that title and I ask all of you in this privileged circle of trust to keep these plans to yourself lest we spook all of the other kingdoms of Westeros into attacking us before we are ready," he replied.
"When would the time be right then?" Lord Crispian asked curiously.
"Years. Decades even perhaps. The journey will be long and tedious but the end results will be extraordinary," Visenya replied to Lord Celtigar on his behalf having long known of his intentions.
"Why not just go for them all at once?" his uncle asked. "You have three dragons do you not? You could make all of Westeros submit in three years I dare say."
"We could nuncle, but such a conquest would be meaningless. A dynasty built on sand," Rhaenys replied gently.
Aegon nodded. "Visenya and Rhaenys are right. Such rapid and superficial conquests are not what I desire. They would be easier and quicker yes but they would not be better. No I'm afraid in this aspect we must go slow and steady if we want to create something that will truly last. Valyria had over a thousand dragons and yet it still took centuries and millennia for them to expand to the borders they had in the end and the results speak for themselves. A civilization and legacy that endured for thousands of years and only came to an end because of a doom that was beyond their control.
"I aspire to do likewise. I will build my dynasty upon foundations of solid stone, set in indestructible Valyrian steel. I will use dragons not as a crutch but as the greatest weapon in my arsenal to create a mighty empire, a pillar of civilization and majesty to all the Known World that can stand for a thousand years or more without dragons being the only support holding it up."
That would be his legacy. His final revenge on his failure of an alternate self. He would succeed everywhere that he had failed, surpass him in every possible measurement, and no one and nothing was going to stand in his way. He was Aegon the Conqueror, and this was his story.
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