บท 1: Chapter 1 - The Silent Prince
129 AC
Second Day Of The Third Moon
The Red Keep
In the soft embrace of dawn, I stirred from my slumber, the warmth of my bed shared with Alyssa, my twin. Her gentle touch brushed against my face as I blinked open my eyes, greeted by her affectionate gaze.
"You look serene in your sleep," she remarked, a hint of bashfulness tainting her cheeks, mirroring the faint blush that adorned mine.
"It's our nameday, little brother," she reminded me, her voice filled with playful insistence as she tugged me upright, her energy infectious, impossible to resist.
Her eyes, each a reflection of a different world, one violet like twilight, the other green as spring, held a spark of mischief as she peered into mine.
"I've planned eighteen adventures for our eighteenth nameday," she declared, her smile crooked and mischievous, a sight that always melted my resolve. Saying no to Alyssanne Targaryen, or Alyssa as she preferred, was an exercise in futility.
"Now, for our first venture," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious. With a playful shove, she sent me tumbling back onto the bed, her golden-silver locks cascading like a waterfall as she straddled me, her hands cradling my face before our lips met in a sweet, stolen moment.
As we lingered in the quiet aftermath, our breaths mingling, I saw the rosy hue staining her cheeks, a reflection of my own flushed countenance.
"My sun and sky," she whispered, her voice a soft melody, "my moon and stars," I replied, lost in the depths of her mismatched gaze.
Our peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted by the creak of my chamber doors swinging open, followed by the rapid patter of small feet echoing through the room.
In burst the other set of twins, their excitement palpable.
"Aunty Alyssa's is riding Uncle Jaehaerys!" Baelon, my spirited nephew, exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm, as my older sister entered the room with the rest of my siblings, followed by Mother.
"Alysanne Targaryen, show some decorum!" Mother's admonition sliced through the air as Alyssa swiftly disentangled herself from me.
"How many times must I remind you not to sleep in your brother's chambers?" Mother's voice dripped with exasperation as my siblings erupted into laughter before coming forward to greet us.
"Happy nameday, Uncle," Jaehaera, my sweet niece, said as she enveloped me in a warm hug. I returned the embrace, knowing she found comfort only in my presence or her mothers.
As I rose from the bed, Aemond approached me with a grin spreading across his face.
"Happy nameday, brother," he greeted, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"You little brat, how many times do I have to tell you not to address me as your aunt, I am still young" Alyssa scolded Baelon with mock severity.
"You are turning into an old hag now," Baelon retorted, laughing, as Alyssa began to chase him around the room. Baelon's laughter soon turned to shrieks of horror, for once Alyssa caught him, her tickling knew no bounds.
He dashed towards me, seeking refuge behind my frame.
"Uncle, save me," he pleaded softly, seeking shelter as I soothingly stroked his hair.
"Baelon, apologize to your aunt," Heleana asserted firmly, prompting my nephew to offer a sincere apology upon hearing his mother's stern tone.
Mother approached me, enveloping me in a warm embrace.
"Happy nameday, my son," she greeted tenderly, planting a sweet kiss on my cheek.
Before I could respond , my hands were suddenly caught behind me as my eldest brother, Aegon, effortlessly lifted me and playfully tossed me onto the bed. Laughter erupted from my other brothers as they delighted in my predicament.
This was a tradition among us brothers which started when I was old enough to walk, where my elder brothers would engage in playful wrestling matches with me.
But the laughter was cut short as Aegon cried out in pain. I watched in surprise as Alyssa began to pull his ears while Daeron, with lightning reflexes, dodged her grasp just in time.
"How many times must I tell you not to roughhouse with Jaehaerys?" Alyssa scolded, her voice laced with amusement.
"He's a delicate flower," she added, a smirk dancing on her lips, eliciting laughter from everyone at my expense.
"Children, enough. All of you, get ready. We're breaking our fast with your father today," Mother intervened, her gentle command prompting groans from everyone except Alyssa, who held a special place in Father's heart, second only to Rhaenyra, of course.
Alone in the quiet of my chamber, I approached the mirror and gazed upon my reflection. There, staring back at me, was the unmistakable visage of House Targaryen, with its signature features etched into my face.
I was born as Jaehaerys Targaryen, the younger twin brother of Alyssanne Targaryen. As the third son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, my existence was deemed an aberration, a mistake not meant to happen. I harbored the knowledge that I wasn't originally from this world; I had left behind a different name and a different life to embrace this one.
They called me the Silent Prince, a moniker earned because I never cried when I came into the world, unlike my sister who wailed incessantly.
Despite the joy and laughter I shared with my family, I harbored a dark awareness of the impending tragedy that loomed over us. Within five years, all those I loved would be dead. The Dance of the Dragons awaited us—a time of chaos and bloodshed.
Tomorrow marks the day my father will meet his end, triggering the devastating civil war that will consume House Targaryen.
I dressed in my dragon riding leathers and headed towards the hall where my family awaited. It was there that I noticed all my siblings were similarly attired.
Aemond sat beside Daeron, engrossed in discussions about their respective dragons, while Aegon tended to his twins, Baelon and Jaehaera. Helena busied herself feeding little Maelor porridge, while Mother and Father occupied their seats, and Alyssa engaged in conversation with Father. As I approached, Mother rose from her seat and ushered me to sit beside Father.
King Viserys, first of his name, was ailing, his health marred by numerous afflictions—gout, aching joints, back pain, and respiratory issues.
"Jaehaerys, happy nameday, my son," he greeted warmly, and I embraced the man who, despite his shortcomings as a king, had always been a loving father, albeit with a penchant for favoring my half-sister.
As the servants served our meal, I observed Father's fond gaze towards Alyssa. She was his favorite after Rahenyra, a fact known to us all. Mother often remarked that Alyssa reminded Father of his own mother, hence his preference for calling her Alyssa instead of Alyssanne.
After the meal, Alyssa rose and kissed Father on the cheek.
"Now, let us all ride our dragons," she declared, her joy evident, for nothing delighted her more than soaring through the skies atop her dragon.
Baelon complained that he too wanted to ride his dragon, but Helena reminded him he was still too young.
"But Uncle Jaehaerys and Aunt Alyssa were only four namedays old when they first rode their dragons," he protested, earning chuckles from Alyssa and me.
"Well son, your uncle and aunt were foolish children who nearly gave your grandmother a stroke when she learned of their escapades," Aegon quipped, prompting laughter from everyone except Alyssa and me, who shared a sheepish smile.
I recalled how Mother had punished us by keeping us under her watchful eye for months after our dragon-riding adventure.
"Let's forget about that particular memory," Alyssa suggested, and I saw Mother recalling the incident once more as we made our way to the stables to prepare for our ride to the dragon pit.
We were accompanied by a contingent of knights, led by Ser Criston Cole and the Commander of the Goldcloaks, who was my uncle , Ser Gwayne Hightower.
Approaching the immense Dragon Pit, we were greeted by the awaiting dragon keepers. As my siblings dispersed towards their respective dragons, only Alyssa and I remained.
Finally, we reached our dragons, coiled together in a majestic display of power.
Alyssa rushed towards her dragon, Silverwing, while I approached my own, Vermithor, with reverence.
"How are you, Vermithor?" I spoke softly, gently touching his snout.
I was the rider of the Bronze Fury, while Alyssa was bonded to Silverwing.
With practiced ease, I mounted my dragon, securing myself in place.
"Sōves," I commanded in High Valyrian, and Vermithor obeyed, spreading his wings and lifting us into the sky. We soared above the clouds, joined by all my siblings astride their respective dragons.
The sight must have been both awe-inspiring and terrifying for the people of King's Landing below.
--
The melodic strains of music filled the grand hall, as a feast was arranged in celebration of our nameday. I found myself adorned in a brown doublet, much to the chagrin of my mother who had insisted I wear something green. Alyssa, on the other hand, wore a stunning silver dress, though her expression betrayed her disdain for such feminine attire.
Unlike other girls, Alyssa was a tomboy through and through. She eschewed embroidery and ladylike activities in favor of riding, climbing, and dueling with wooden swords. Her heart was that of a warrior.
As the bards began to play, couples took to the dance floor. I approached my sister, who voiced her reluctance to dance.
"I don't care much for dancing," she confessed.
"Well, I'll find someone else then," I teased, turning away. But before I could make my escape, she took my hand.
"Oh, I just remembered how much I love to dance," she exclaimed, and I chuckled.
Soon, we were dancing, albeit slowly, as she adjusted to the rhythm.
"I'd prefer training in the yard to this nonsense," she grumbled, the nobles around us casting disapproving glances.
"And this horrendous thing that they call a dress. I'd rather be in my dragon riding leathers," she continued.
"You look truly beautiful, though," I complimented her, and she paused for a moment.
"Shut up," she replied softly.
"I'd love to see you in a dress every now and then," I confessed.
"Well, I'll wear these horrendous things if it makes you happy," she conceded, drawing me closer.
As the song came to an end, I noticed Father leaving with the assistance of some servants, and I felt compelled to speak with him.
"Jaehaerys," Alyssa called, holding my hand. "I wish to speak with you," she said seriously, guiding me away from the hall.
The moonlight cast a gentle glow, and I found myself pondering what thoughts it might carry. Alyssa turned to face me, her presence breaking the quiet night.
"Our father wishes to see us both married in a moons time especially after you had made it clear that we would not get married before our eighteenth name day ," she stated, her voice carrying a mixture of emotion.
Her words made me remember the time when father wanted us to get married when we had turned fifteen namedays. I did love alyssa but I wanted to wait for longer and since then we had just kissed on a few occasions like on our namedays and had not done anything more intimate.
"He says that he will soon pass away from this world ,I don't want him to leave us, Jaehaerys," she confessed, her words tinged with sadness.
"But I know that day will come," she added, her gaze distant.
I reached out to comfort her, but she shrugged away from my touch.
"Don't patronize me, Jaehaerys," she snapped, her tone sharp.
"I don't know how to say this," she began, a hint of fear in her eyes as tears threatened to spill.
"Just tell me, Alyssa," I urged, wanting to understand.
"You know how much I adore our niece and nephews," she started, and I nodded, recalling her affection for them.
"But I don't want to have children like Helaena did especially at her age," she confessed.
"I want to see the world, Jaehaerys," she declared, her desire clear.
"I want to visit each of the Seven Kingdoms," she expressed, her voice filled with longing.
"I want to see the Eyrie in the Vale, Winterfell, even Sunspear and Casterly Rock," she continued, her eyes alight with excitement.
"I wish to journey to Essos, to walk among the ruins of Valyria. I want to emulate Jaenara Belaerys, who ventured to explore Sothoryos," she said, her gaze sparkling with wonder. "Don't you ever wonder what lies beyond the shores of Westeros, Jaehaerys?" she asked.
"I yearn to travel to Yi Ti, to behold the vast Dothraki Sea, to traverse all the Free Cities," she added passionately.
"So, what were you hesitant to tell me?" I inquired, sensing there was more beneath her words.
"I know how much you cherish the idea of children," she began, her voice softening.
"And I fear that if you marry me, you'll resent me later for not wanting children until I've seen the entire world," she confessed, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Alyssa," I whispered, gently cupping her face in my hands.
"I could never find it in my heart to hate you," I confessed earnestly.
"Whether or not we have children, whether or not you even desire to marry me, none of it matters to me," I declared softly.
"All I desire is to spend every moment of my life with the one I cherish most," I continued, my gaze locked with hers.
"It matters not if the one I love prefers donning armor to delicate embroidery," I added with a tender smile.
"Do you truly mean that?" she asked, searching my eyes for sincerity.
"I do, Alyssa, with all my heart, because I love you," I affirmed, pulling her close in a warm embrace.
"Promise me you'll never leave my side," she implored, her voice trembling slightly.
"I promise, my love, I will always stand by you," I vowed, gently wiping away her tears.
"Now, no more tears," I insisted softly, a smile tugging at my lips as her laughter filled the air.
"I love you, Jaehaerys," she whispered, and in that moment, under the gentle glow of the moon, our lips met in a tender kiss.
I made my way toward Father's chambers with a sense of urgency. As I approached, I noticed Helaena exiting alongside Baelon and Jaehaera. The twins looked sleepy, so I leaned in to kiss them gently on their foreheads before turning to Helaena.
"Is Father awake, sister?" I inquired, and she nodded quietly.
"Good night, sister," I whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek before heading inside to speak with Father.
"Jaehaerys," Father acknowledged as I entered.
"I need to speak with you, Father," I said, noting the concern etched on his face.
"What's troubling you, son?" he inquired, his tone gentle yet filled with concern.
I glanced at the servants still lingering in the room and then back at Father. "Perhaps we should be alone," I suggested.
Father nodded, and with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the servants.
Once we were alone, I approached and took a seat beside his bed. Father rested there, a comforting presence despite the gravity of my concerns.
"You look worried, son. What is it?" Father's voice was soft, his concern evident in his eyes.
Sitting beside him as he rested on the bed, I couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. Here was the man who had raised me since the moment I came into this world, and now I had to share with him a truth that weighed heavily on my heart.
"You have a right to know, Father," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil within.
He regarded me with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, his expression shifting as he started to cough.
Quickly, I reached for the jug, pouring him a glass and slipping in some milk of the poppy to ease his discomfort. After he drank, his gaze settled on me, waiting for an explanation.
"The truth, Father, about who I truly am," I said, meeting his gaze with determination. It was time to reveal the secrets that had long been buried.
"The life I am living is not my first; rather, it is my second," I confessed, the weight of my words heavy in the air.
"In my previous life, Father, I was a terrible person. I did things of which I am quite ashamed of," I continued, my voice tinged with remorse.
"I did not have a good childhood, and I did not know what a family truly was," I admitted, feeling vulnerable as I took his hand in mine.
"But all the pain vanished away when I was reborn into this life. I gained a family—brothers and sisters who love me, a caring mother, and a father like you, everything I never had before," I said, gratitude lacing my words as a tear slipped from my eye.
"It's all thanks to you, Father," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "And now, I am scared of losing it all," I confessed, meeting his gaze with a mixture of fear and determination.
"I know the future, Father. I know what will happen, and I am terrified of losing everyone I care about," I confessed, watching as his eyes widened in shock.
As his eyelids began to droop, I saw the exhaustion in his eyes, but he fought against the pull of sleep, intent on hearing my words.
"You were a good father but a terrible king," I said softly, the truth finally coming to light. "The moment you pass away, there will be a civil war, and everyone I care about will die. I cannot let that happen," I declared, the weight of my burden heavy upon my shoulders.
"Remember when I told you about the terrible things I did in my previous life? I believe I will have to do those things again, Father," I admitted, the weight of my confession hanging heavily in the air.
"I thought I was destined to lose everyone I care about, but then something changed after..." I paused, reflecting on the turning point. "After I stopped Aemond from losing his eye," I continued, a glimmer of hope in my eyes.
"Back in Driftmark, it was Aemond who was meant to lose an eye, but due to my actions, it was Lucerys," I explained, a smile tugging at my lips. "It showed me that I can have an effect on this world."
"And then, after the incident, remember how I asked you to make me grandfather's cupbearer? Well, I told him everything," I confessed, my tone earnest. "And he believed me, Father, although I did lie to him, saying that I was a dreamer because he cannot know the truth that you know."
"For the past nine years, Grandfather and I have been plotting against Rhaenyra," I revealed, the weight of the truth heavy upon me. "For the sake of my family's safety, she will have to die, Father," I declared, the gravity of my words echoing in the room.
"Rhaenyra, her bastard sons Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffery, along with her sons from her marriage to my uncle Daemon Targaryen... Rhaenys too will have to die, alongside the Sea Snake as well, along with many others, Father," I uttered, each name heavy on my tongue, each fate weighing on my conscience.
"I will kill them all, Father, but I need you to know that I will not derive any satisfaction from such an act," I continued, my voice filled with a mix of determination and anguish.
"I will make sure to give them a quick death," I promised, my words laced with a grim sense of duty.
"I will protect 'my family' from Daemon Targaryen, and in the end, he too will die by my hands," I vowed, my gaze unwavering as I spoke of the inevitable confrontation.
"I will not lose Baelon, Jaehaera, and Maelor to his machinations," I declared, the thought of their safety consuming me with a fierce protectiveness.
As I looked at Viserys Targaryen, I saw his face filled with absolute shock, his disbelief palpable in the air.
"You are a monster," he accused before succumbing to the effects of the milk of the poppy, his eyes closing as the darkness enveloped him.
"I hope that when we meet in the afterlife, if there is one, you forgive me, Father," I whispered, my voice trembling with sorrow as I pressed a kiss to his forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.
The next morning, Mother called us all together, her voice heavy with grief as she informed us of his passing. Alyssa broke down in tears, her sobs echoing through the room, and I held her tightly.
My siblings wore expressions of profound sadness, their grief etched into every line of their faces. As I gazed out at the rising sun, its warm rays offering no solace to the darkness that now enveloped our family, I knew that the civil war, known as the Dance of the Dragons, had already begun, even if the rest of the realm had yet to realize it.
"The Silent Fury," that was the name whispered in hushed tones in my past life, a chilling moniker born from the shadows I wielded, striking fear into the hearts of my enemies. They never knew where I would emerge from, my silence masking the ferocity of my wrath, a terrifying force to behold. And now, the 'Blacks' would experience it firsthand.
"Let the Game of Thrones begin"
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