Alicent Hightower quickly wiped away the sweat of her brows as she did her best to reduce her husband's excruciating pain by massaging his back and shoulders.
Viserys' condition seemed to be getting worse every moon turn, his flesh was rotting, his bones and muscles were getting weaker, the King's very own mind was not spared. Viserys sometimes forgot the events of the day and still believed he was living the day prior. Today, he had almost passed out in the middle of a Small council's session. Fortunately, Alicent had realized his state and commanded Ser Lyonel Strong to continue the session as she went with her husband to take care of him.
She was thirsty and hungry, the child in her belly was getting heavier every day. But duty commanded that she took care of her husband first as his condition was the worst.
Her husband was dying, she had realized that the day she had seen him pass out after he came back from High-Tide with a secured marriage alliance with the Sea Snake. Viserys' health and body deteriorated quickly, turning her once handsome husband into a husk of a man. As his wife, and the mother of their children, her duty was to hold their family together by taking care of each of its member, alas that task got harder as time went on; Jonothor had been exiled, Aegon could barely look at her in the eyes, Helaena had turned sad and lonely, Aemond pretended to be Jon to make up for the latter's absence. But everyone could feel it.
"How is Aegon?" Viseras asked suddenly as Alicent was massaging his back.
"The maester is not sure if he will make a full recovery or is possible that he might regain the full capacity of his wrist…"
"Good."
"… but the same cannot be said about his mental state. The maester believes that he must go through detoxification to get rid of his addiction to the Milk of the Poppy."
Viserys remained quiet for a moment, Alicent slowed down her massages, awaiting his next words.
"Something, must be done about him. He is but nine years of age…"
He grunted in pain.
"Perhaps… Perhaps I have made a mistake, I should not have sent Jonothor away."
A wave of hope washed over Alicent's face, she opened her mouth to answer but her husband beat her to it.
"I have received a raven from Driftmark, the Sea Snake is deeply angered by Jonothor's behavior and has declared that our son is no longer welcomed inside his castle's walls."
Alicent frowned, Jonothor was well-behaved, a prince in every aspect, what had happened to force a man such as Corlys Velaryon to banish a prince from his castle? Alicent dreaded the answer.
"Does that mean that you will call our son back home?"
Viserys turned to look at her in the eye, his own gaze remained neutral.
"I will, it is the only thing Rhaenyra and you have both agreed on in the past moons. However, I will not revoke his punishment, as Aegon is still injured, Jonothor's new task will be to take care of his twin until the damages of their conflict are fully gone."
Alicent blinked, then she blinked again.
"Husband… You cannot mean it, the feud between Aegon and Jonothor has left deep wounds. I do no think Aegon will allow Jonothor to approach him…"
Viserys shook his head.
"Aegon is a child, I am his father and King, I will not allow my twin sons to keep maiming each other until one of them will be too far gone to reach. They must learn to set aside their grievances, for the sake of this family."
Alicent bit her tongue to hold it.
"Jonothor, must undo the damages he has done to his brother. And Aegon… Aegon must relearn to be a Prince, he will not hide in his chambers forever. He is a Prince…"
Viserys' voice was getting weaker and more distant, for a moment, Alicent thought her husband delirious.
His breath got heavier.
"I have failed to properly punish Jonothor, I thought Aegon's punishment would teach him discipline, I was wrong… Nothing has changed. So Jonothor must come back to King's Landing and help his brother. Perhaps, then, yes… our family would keep on prospering, once our internal grievances are set aside…"
"Husband?"
Viserys threw his body against the back of his chair to look at his wife who almost jumped in surprise, he caught her wrist with his good hand.
"Can you please take care of it?" He asked, his tone pleading. The few candles in their chambers made him look paler than he was. "Can you write to the Dragonkeepers to send Jonothor back to King's Landing? His presence will appease his siblings and Jace… He does not smile at me since he has been told that I have sent Jonothor away, perhaps he will forgive me, now."
Alicent remained stone-faced, she had her duty to uphold. Jacaerys was a three year old bastard who had been given the chance to see Jon a few weeks ago. Alicent's very own children had not had that chance, despite the fact that they were much more impacted by their brother's absence than the boy could ever be.
"Helaena and Aemond longed to see him as well." She said. "Helaena kept asking me when he would return."
"Rhaenyra has asked me as well." Viserys whispered, his eyes distant. "I hope I am making the right decision this time, I tire of those conflicts within our own house."
"So do I." Alicent whispered back, her hand pressed against her belly. "So do I."
(-)(-)(-)
When he received his mother's raven, announcing him that he was welcomed back in court, Jon refrained himself from immediately commanding Sir Criston to get on Ghost, instead, he took care of the day's chores, he informed the Dragon Keepers of the King's decision and thanked them for their teachings. Then he dressed properly for Court and got on Ghost with a Kingsguard in his fresh polished armor at his back.
It did not take long for Ghost to cross the small distance between Dragonstone and King's Landing, once the capital was on sight, Jon did not refrain himself from smiling despite the city's usual smell.
"Is it the smell of shit or the smell of piss that got you in such a good mood?" Ser Criston quipped.
Jon rolled his eyes in amusement.
"I simply long to see my family. I don't want to be apart from them again, even though I am aware that duty might call me away."
"You speak like a seasoned knight who awaits the next war." Ser Criston laughed. "Remember that you are only nine years old, my prince. Your place is in King's Landing and will always be."
Jon was not sure how to feel about that, he took a look at the city.
Despite the capital's moribund appearance from the ground, King's Landing had always looked majestic from the air. The colored tiles and the hung out laundry made it look alive, like a yellow and red anthill.
Jon took a look toward the sky, looking for another dragon. But Rhaenyra and Syrax were nowhere to be seen, and Jon absentmindedly wondered if Rhaenyra could fly despite her pregnancy.
When he reached the Dragonpit, Ghost started circling around the the area until it had sufficiently slowed down to start to land. The Dragon Keepers instantly approached to circle the White Dragon.
"Umbagon gīda, Tolīmorghon." A young one, unknown to Jon, spoke.
Instantly, Ghost roared at his face, forcing him to back down.
"Lykiri!" Jon commanded. "Lykiri, Ghost!"
The white dragon groaned in displeasure and glared at the young dragon keeper who had called him 'Tolīmorghon'.
"Never call Ghost, 'Tolīmorghon'." Jon warned. "Speak to him in High-Valyrian all you like, but refer to him as 'Ghost' and 'Ghost' only."
The young Dragon keeper gulped, nodded and bowed. Jon smiled and dismounted his dragon with Ser Criston behind him.
Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, dismounted from the horse on which he had been waiting for them, and greeted his prince with a nod.
"Welcome back, Prince Jonothor."
He looked behind Jon and gave another nod to greet his fellow Kingsguard.
"Ser Criston."
"Lord Commander."
"His Grace, the King has tasked me to bring you to him." Ser Harold informed his Prince who rose his eyebrows in surprise.
"Has he said why?"
"No, but he mentioned your twin brother."
Jon grimaced and wondered if King Viserys expected him to apologize to put an end to this feud between brothers. After all, his Targaryen Father hated conflicts but had a habit of hiding them rather than solving them.
"Very well, lead the way Lord Commander."
Ser Harrold had brought a young stallion and a pony with him, making Jon realize that he had not a horse to call his own. As they rode through the city, Jon considered getting a one and wondered what kind of mount would suit him.
A Dornish Stallion? It would not survive a harsh winter, same would happen to a mare from the Reach, and both ate too much.
Jon was not fond of destriers, they were tall, strong, splendid animals, often high spirited and highly regarded at Court. Destriers gave knightsa majestic air attourneys. They are considered the most valuable type of horse as they are well bred and highly trained. But they had a could founder in snow and were bred to be magnificent, not durable.
Palfreys were another option, they had an ambling capability which made them a more comfortable mount for long riding journeys. A well-bred palfrey could be as expensive as a destrier. But they were not meant for combat.
Jon actually chuckled at his own pettiness when he realized that he wanted a Garron. Garronswere the only reasonable choice of horsebeyond the Wall. Both theNight's Watchand theFree Folkused them in considerable numbers, both for riding and carrying cargo. Garrons could deal with irregular terrain and cold temperatures, unlike other horses. Under extreme cold, they fare better than palfreys and far better than destriers, and they ate less Thenorthern mountain clansalso favor the use of garrons andbear-pawsto facilitate travel.
Yes… Jon could not see himself mounting anything else than a garron, a childish smile lightened his face at this thought.
He wondered how he could acquire it… Well, he was a Prince, so he had a lot of options. First of all, he needed to determine which horse breeder had the best garron to sell. The Night's Watch had better use of garrons than anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, and in this era, it had not turned into the bunch of thieves, murderers, rapists and green boys among which Jon Snow had grown. Yet, Jon doubted that the best garrons belonged to the Night's Watch, they more than likely belonged to the northern mountain clans.
They were roughly forty clans in the mountains, but the most powerful were the Wulls, and Jon believed that if he were to find a garron worthy of a Prince, than their mountain was the one he needed to visit.
Once again, he chuckled at his own pettiness, the spoiled Prince that he was wanted a horse from halfway across the continent on a whim, not only this, but he wanted the best he could find in the entire North. He truly had become a cheeky brat.
Usually, any horse breeder south of Moat Caillin would hurry to please his prince and be honored by his interest. The Mountain Clans were made of sturdier stuff. In order to obtain something from them, and to be recognized as their prince, Jon would need to do what he had advised Stannis Baratheon to do in another life; go to them himself. Eat their bread and salt, drink their ale, listen to their pipers, praise the beauty of their daughters and the courage of their sons, and he would have his garron.
Jon's eyes rose to the sky, he had advised Stannis almost a decade ago in another life, hoping King Robert's brother would avenge Robb and liberate Winterfell.
Jon remembered how much he had wanted to leave with Stannis, how much he had wanted to take the title of Lord of Winterfell, the Stark name and be done with the black. Had he known that his fellow brothers would have killed him, he would have.
"Now I am a Targaryen in the South." He thought. "Perhaps a little adventure into the Northern mountains would help me mitigate my regrets."
He smiled and turned to look at Ser Criston, who frowned knowingly when he saw him.
"What kind of terrible idea just grew in your mind, my Prince?" He asked playfully.
"Would you fancy a trip up North, Ser?"
"North?Why in the Seven's name would you want to travel to that frozen wasteland?"
"To get a horse."
Ser Harrold turned his head to look at his Prince's cheerful face.
"What's wrong with the one you have?" Ser Criston mock-lamented.
"It's a pony." Jon answered, and they both laughed under Ser Harrold's confused glance.
Jon had not taken the time to bathe before he had left Dragonstone, his hair were still dirty enough to hide their silver shine. Which was probably the reason why their ride to the Red Keep remained uneventful as no one among the small folk had recognized him. Once he crossed the Castle's gates though, he did not go unnoticed.
From the groom to the knight, everyone present in the court stopped their work to take in the return of Jonothor Targaryen to the Red Keep. Surprisingly, many of the maids and septas who had left for the kitchens, the sept or the laundry, quickly turned back to join Maegor's citadel, where all the lords, ladies and knights of high birth lived. And the whispers immediately started to resonate.
"Home, sweet home." Jon murmured as he went to leave his pony in the stable before heading towards his parents' quarters. He was slowed down along the way, however, by dozens of high-born people, half of whom he didn't know and whom he could only identify by the banners that were sewn onto their doublets and robes. Jon exchanged as few pleasantries as possible without appearing rude and was only saved when a green, gold and silver meteorite hit his stomach and nearly knocked him down the stairs. Luckily for him, Ser Criston kept him on his two feet by holding him by the collar, while he discovered the identity of his attacker.
"Helaena!" He sighed with a laugh as his sister hugged him with all her might.
"I missed you so much!" She squealed as she buried her head in her doublet under the amused gaze of the lords and ladies. Jon looked embarrassed.
"Please excuse me, I have to take my sister back to my mother." He said as he left without waiting for a response.
Helaena synchronized her steps with those of her brother as she walked alongside him, but she categorically refused to let go of him, much to his amusement.
"Thank you for coming to help me." He whispered in her ear. Helaena gasped in response.
Jon then realized that she was holding back tears, probably because she thought that after their reunion, he was going to leave her again to go about some other business. Wanting to reassure her, he stopped to say, "I promise, as soon as I've seen the rest of the family, I'll come read you a story after dinner. Would you like that?"
Helaena nodded briskly against her brother's doublet, who smiled at her reaction.
If there was one thing Jon hadn't forgotten about his old life, it was the myriad of terrifying stories Old Nan had told him and his Stark siblings. They weren't the kind of stories septas told princesses, of course, but they were the kind Helaena preferred, by far.
Ser Harrold placed a hand on Jon's shoulder as they ascended the stairs of the Holdfast.
"His Grace the King awaits us in his private chambers." He whispered. "He wishes to speak with you alone."
Jon grimaced but nodded. He crossed the Red Keep to his parents' chambers, and waited for Ser Steffon Darklyn to announce them.
"Your Grace, my Queen, Prince Jonothor and Princess Helaena are here."
The door opened after a few moments of waiting, and Alicent Hightower appeared, knelt down and hugged her children.
"Hello, Mother."
"Hello, my son." She replied, kissing his forehead. "We have all missed you greatly."
"That is what I have noticed." Jon smiled as he looked at Helaena. Then he continued in a lower voice, "What should I expect?"
Alicent shook her head, refusing to discuss such details in front of her innocent daughter.
"We will talk later." She decided, taking Helaena by the hand. "It is best for now that you speak with your father. He has much to tell you."
"Does he now?"Jon almost answered but held his tongue. He entered the room, and the first thing he noticed was his father's heavy breath.
Viserys was sitting in a red leather upholstered seat, his face in his hand and his mouth wide open to take deep long breaths. The room was dark, the candles had almost all gone out. His parents must have been in here for hours, but his mother did not manage to have taken his father's pain away. Jon took it upon himself to light up some new candles around the room, thanks to their light, he realized that his father seemed to have lost some weight and hair, he was sweating profusely.
"Father." He called out to him, Viserys looked up, even his purple eyes were tired.
"Jonothor, you look well." The King tried to smile.
"I wish I could say the same about you, but I can't." Jon sighed. "Since when have you been so sick?"
"Since... Since I deserved it."
Jon didn't have time to investigate further before his father continued:
"Do you know why I sent you to Dragonstone?"
"As punishment."
Viserys shook his head.
"You broke your brother's wrist, you beat him like a dog, your punishment should have been harsher, but it was not. Why do you think it was not?"
Jon didn't know what to say.
"It was not, because I felt that the reason why you had attacked him was understandable."
Jon raised his eyebrows in surprise.
" I believed that sending you to Dragonstone was a good thing, honest and good labor worthy of the blood of the Dragon would teach you humility and Aegon would see your temporary exile as a harsh enough punishment; I didn't want him to feel like you were favored over him, and I wanted him to outgrow this petty jealousy of his… but your siblings'... feelings toward you and the wound you have inflicted upon him have prevented him from healing properly. And he is now addicted to the milk of the poppy."
Viserys' eyes crossed his son's. Despite his sickness and his exhausted body, the King still managed to muster enough of his Royal Authority to be taken seriously. Jon genuinely found it impressive.
"This conflict between brothers and the consequences it generated must end. Aegon will be under your care, until his wrist has healed and until he no longer requires that drugging beverage. You two are brothers, twins! And as the eldest, it is your duty to bring your brother back to the right path."
Jon frowned, not because his father was wrong in his eyes, but because his father was a hypocrite.
"I understand, Father, I only wished that you would have done the same for your brother when you still had the strength to do so."
His words seem to cut Viserys deeper than Jon had wanted. The King slumped down in his chair and let out a loud tired sigh.
"What has Daemon done again?"
Jon actually hesitated, his father looked so miserable he felt guilty that he needed to twist the knife in his guts.
"He said it was impossible for you to sire a child like me, he pretended that he must have taken advantage of Mother when he was drunk, and called me his bastard."
Viserys looked as horrified as he was exasperated. Jon found it an amusing mix.
"Listen, Jonothor, your uncle…"
"Is a cunt." Jon finished under his father's scandalized look. "A cunt who does and says whatever he wants to whomever he pleases because no one has bothered to discipline him. Is that why you want me to take care of Aegon?"
Viserys looked away.
"It is why you understood my reason to punish him." It was not even a question anymore.
"You just don't want me to make the same mistakes you did, and to prevent Aegon from ending up like Daemon."
Silence followed Jonothor's statement as his father looked at him like he had grown a second head. It lasted for a moment until Viserys broke it by nervously chuckling.
"You are far too smart for a boy your age."
"So I have been told."
Another moment of silence fell between them, the sad eyes with which Viserys was looking at his son made the latter slightly uncomfortable.
They had the same eyes, Jon had never realized it, Viserys only realized it now. Jonothor was almost ten years of age, and Viserys had never realized that they had the same eyes. It also meant that Aegon had the same eyes as well. However, Viserys doubted that his eyes ever burnt half as bright as his eldest son's.
"I think… I am starting to understand, why Rhaenyra likes you so much." He smiled.
Jon did not smile, Viserys Targaryen never managed to make him smile and probably never would.
"Was it hard to understand that I am her brother?" Jon said but did not openly speak with a mocking tone."Was it hard to understand that I love my family and wish for them all to be happy?"
No answer came out the King's voice, as he looked flabbergasted at his eldest son's cold purple eyes. Jon shook his head, he did not want nor did he need to keep talking to his father, he had better things to do.
"If you will excuse me, I need to rest given everything that is on my plate: taking care of Aegon, sparring with Aemond, telling a story to Helaena, playing with Jace, listening to Rhaenyra… you understand."
No he did not, and Jon knew. Viserys' sad face was making his son nauseous.
"Thank you, Jonothor, for taking care of our family."
Jon tightened his fists, he hated him, he hated Viserys Targaryen and all the pain he brought to their family.
"I'm only doing my duty, Father."