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Chapter 4: Conflicts
Kingslanding
80 AC
The Queen
Alysanne Targaryen didn't know what to do with her eleventh son, Gaemon Targaryen. She had always loved him more than her other children, especially after learning she had almost lost him to the Stranger. Yet, from the time he was a baby, he had been different from all her other children. He was even different from her grandchildren, Rhaenys and Viserys.
Every other moon, there was an argument between the king and Gaemon regarding the dragons and Gaemon's wild nature. Even with guards, Gaemon managed to traverse the hidden paths and shadows of the castle like no one else could. The arguments about the dragons were changing them. Gaemon had repeatedly claimed that no dragon liked being chained and that they would behave if freed, but the king had taken no action.
She sighed in worry as she watched, alongside her husband, as Gaemon trained with the Kingsguard. It was his latest punishment from the king—training from dawn to dusk for a week. Even though her heart clenched at the reason for this punishment, she understood. Gaemon had gone completely feral upon hearing of the betrothal of his favorite sister, Daella, to Rodrik Arryn. How a child of seven could understand marriage and the age of reproduction was another matter entirely. Girls tended to marry young, and seventeen was considered an appropriate age. Yet, Gaemon had stormed into his father's solar, barging in while the Hand, Septon Barth, her son Aemon, and she herself were present. She still remembered the look of pure rage on Gaemon's face.
"Gaemon, what is the meaning of this?" Jaehaerys snapped.
Gaemon ignored the question, turning to the Septon. "This is a matter for our family. Send him away."
Aemon laughed and teased, "Ah, brother, I thought we were just nuisances to you, and the dragons were your real family."
Alysanne chuckled at the comment, but the king remained stony-faced.
"Gaemon," Jaehaerys said coldly, "you will not presume to order your father and king. Moreover, Septon Barth is a valuable friend and advisor. He will stay."
"So be it. Don't say I didn't warn you later, Father. Anyway, I want you to stop Daella's marriage to an old man. Arryn is already forty, with four children to inherit the Vale. We gain nothing from this match, and Daella is too young to marry," Gaemon said firmly.
Alysanne saw the flicker of rage in Jaehaerys' eyes but was surprised when he didn't explode.
"For a prince who seems so disinterested in the teachings of nobles, you are surprisingly aware of the rulers of the Vale," the king replied. "But I have no choice in this matter, Gaemon. Your mother made a list, including a Lannister and a Baratheon, and it was your sister who chose the old man. I will not break that choice unless your elder brothers are willing to marry her. And you—" Jaehaerys paused, his voice softening only slightly, "—you are so young that I will not allow her to wait for you."
Gaemon flinched, and Alysanne noticed the brief frown on his face when the subject of marrying sisters was brought up.
"Then make the marriage happen in two years," Gaemon argued. "She should be at least eighteen before marrying. She's sickly and not fully grown."
Septon Barth snorted. "My prince, I am sure your mother knows more than you about the growth of females, and Princess Daella is mature enough to bear a child."
The sound that escaped Gaemon's throat could only be described as a growl, and Alysanne was taken aback by it.
"I wasn't talking to you, Septon," Gaemon said, his voice sharp. "And I have nothing to hear from a man who has vowed to serve the gods yet meddles in the affairs of men and plays the game of thrones like you. I was speaking to my father and mother—the heads of House Targaryen—not their lickspittle."
Alysanne glanced at Septon Barth and was shocked to see a flicker of fear cross his face.
"Enough, Gaemon," the king snapped. "You are speaking to the Hand of the King, who speaks with my authority. He is more than that—he is a dear friend. You will not disrespect him in front of me. His opinion is more valued than that of a seven-year-old prince."
Alysanne braced herself, expecting Gaemon to be devastated by his father's words. Instead, the boy seemed indifferent, scoffing in derision.
"And pray tell, Father," Gaemon replied, "what does a man sworn off women and devoted to the gods know of women and childbirth? And what does he care for my sister when the Faith disparages her because of her inability to read their damned scriptures? You married Aemon to Jocelyn, your own half-sister, ensuring that no other house could use her as a bargaining chip. You married Baelon to Alyssa to secure her dragon for our house. You've used my siblings, Maegelle and Vaegon, to infiltrate the Faith and the Citadel, the soft powers of the Seven Kingdom."
Septon Barth's eyes widened, and he hissed in shock, but Gaemon continued.
"So, enlighten me. What use does marrying Daella to an Arryn serve? There will be no inheritance of the Vale; there are too many heirs. In fact, it seems to me that you're simply trying to rid yourself of the burden of a supposedly weak, simple girl while increasing the Vale's loyalty."
Alysanne observed Jaehaerys, surprised and deep in thought.
"Gaemon, I am certain our sister is not marrying Arryn because she is an embarrassment to the royal family. As for Maegelle and Vaegon, they joined of their own will, not because our father pressured them. You are out of line suggesting otherwise. I assure you, I married Jocelyn because I loved her, not because my father commanded it," Aemon said, attempting to calm his enraged younger brother.
"Aye, what a coincidence that Jocelyn, as a ward of the Crown, just happened to sit next to you after our mother realized Alyssa and Baelon were far too close for comfort," Gaemon replied coolly.
"Enough, Gaemon," The King snapped. "Your intelligence and observational skills surpass even adults, but here they are misused to imagine plots where none exist. Your sister is marrying one of the Lord Paramounts—a house that has been loyal to us since the beginning. There are only two others equal to Arryn, and yet this is her choice. There will be no change."
Alysanne, knowing her brother's mind was set, remained silent. She saw Gaemon tense further before sighing in defeat and lowering his gaze.
Before anyone could comment, Gaemon looked up again. His eyes—despite their Targaryen coloring—were not those of a seven-year-old boy. They seemed far older, reflecting a knowledge of bloodshed and war.
"I see there is no changing your mind, my king. It doesn't matter; I'm leaving now before I say something unforgivable."
"Oh? And where are you going, Prince Gaemon? I hope it is to reflect on your wild outburst and the disrespect you've shown me, your father, and the royal family," Septon Barth interjected smugly.
Gaemon, who had turned to leave, paused. His shoulders tensed before relaxing completely. Slowly, he turned his head, then his body, to fully face the Septon.
"I'm glad you asked, Septon. I'm going to the nearest sept to pray to the Stranger. Arryn is an old man, after all—perhaps his heart will give out after fucking a young beauty like my sister on their wedding night. That would be quite fortuitous for her, wouldn't it? She'd be free of the burden of childbirth and could remain as a widow."
Eventhough it was said so casually, even Alysanne didn't miss the threat in the voice and the absolute surety in it.
And…
This was the second day, and Alysanne noticed the Kingsguard assigned to train with Gaemon was nearing exhaustion, while the boy looked as fresh as ever.
"Husband, why are you punishing him more than any of our other children? He's only doing what we've all done before, and his words—however sharp—are beyond the capability of a normal seven-year-old to accomplish."
The king scoffed. "We never fought so stubbornly when our parents rejected something the first time. Gaemon outright refuses anything he doesn't like. This is not a trait to nurture in someone of the royal family. He even defies me on matters of dragons, and you have faced the same. Hasn't he vehemently denied learning about the Seven, claiming belief in fourteen gods at first and rejecting them altogether later? If this isn't curbed now, what happens if Aemon denies him something crucial in the future? It could lead to treason or rebellion. I won't allow it."
Alysanne grimaced, recalling the bitter two-year struggle before she finally gave up. At least she had Maegelle, devout and obedient.
"I know you were pleased when I finally succeeded with Aemon," she said dryly. "He's been trained well enough to avoid problems with the Faith after our time."
"Well, if something does happen, it will be far different from the first rebellion during our father's time."
Alysanne didn't reply, knowing the king's true feelings about the Faith.
"He is exceptional," the king admitted as they watched their seven-year-old son outsmart even the seasoned Kingsguard training him.
"What if we assign him to the Kingsguard?" Jaehaerys asked suddenly.
Alysanne laughed mockingly but stopped when she saw he was serious. "No, brother. I lost my third son to the Citadel; I won't lose this one too. Do you truly see Gaemon standing still for hours, bound by duty?"
Jaehaerys grimaced, knowing Gaemon's restless spirit would never suit the Kingsguard.
"You know he is more knowledgeable than he lets on," Alysanne informed the king.
It was a relief for Alysanne that Gaemon was not another Daella. When he neither talked nor cried as the days passed, everyone assumed he was a fool—until they caught him speaking to the kitchen staff about an imaginary dish. When they tried his recipe, it turned out to be exceptionally good.
The king looked intrigued. "What do you mean? He has already proven himself more intelligent than even Vaegon by learning languages, reading complex texts, and grasping their concepts quickly."
Alysanne nodded. "Two years ago, during a visit to the orphanages, Gaemon made several suggestions for improving the health and safety of the children. His ideas were groundbreaking. For example, he proposed that multiple mothers should nurse multiple infants to strengthen the babies' immunity against common illnesses. He also recommended that children bathe at least every other day and drink only boiled water filtered through a contraption he built using mud layers. The reports I received yesterday show that these measures have drastically reduced sickness and disease in the orphanages. And there's more—many of his suggestions have been just as effective."
For a moment, the king wore a proud smile, but he quickly masked it with a regal façade.
"That is very interesting," he said. "What other methods has he proposed that might benefit me and the kingdom?"
Alysanne hesitated, knowing her next words would anger him. "I tried to persuade him to share his ideas for the betterment of the Iron Throne, but he saw through my ploy. He said he would not help you in any way until the matter of the dragons is resolved."
The king snarled briefly but managed to contain his temper.
"So he wants to bargain with his ideas, which may ultimately be worthless, against me, his king and father. Perhaps I should send him to the Faith as punishment," the king said calmly, though there was an edge to his voice.
"Enough, brother," Alysanne snapped. "What is it with you and our son? He's right about the dragons, and you know it. Why not unchain them and be done with it? No one will complain after all these years."
The king looked hesitant, but a moment later, he appeared resolute.
"Sister, do you know why I worry about him?" His voice softened, taking on a rare vulnerability. "I was the one who pulled him from the ashes of that dragon egg on that fateful day. When I looked into his black eyes, I saw something I had seen only once before—the same look Maegor the Cruel had when he returned from the dark ritual performed by his pet sorceress till his death. But in Gaemon's eyes, I also saw wildness and understanding no infant should possess. Now, as he shows exceptional intelligence and knowledge beyond his years, I cannot help but fear he may follow in our cursed uncle's footsteps—into madness and cruelty."
Alysanne was stunned into silence, her heart beating furiously as protective anger swelled within her.
"How dare you, brother," she said, her voice shaking with fury. "He is nothing like our thrice-cursed uncle! You only need to see the kindness Gaemon shows to those beneath him, especially the children at the orphanage, to understand that. Maegor never showed love to anyone but his mother. Gaemon already loves us—and his ardent defense of Daella is proof of that."
The king grimaced, recalling the injuries suffered by the Bracken boy, but Alysanne pressed on.
"You focus only on the boy's injuries and disregard why Gaemon acted as he did. Your bias in comparing him to Maegor blinds you."
The king appeared thoughtful for a moment and gave a noncommittal shrug. "Perhaps. But even his words the other day showed his ruthlessness. You all thought his comment about Arryn dying in my daughter's bed was just a jest to mock the Septon, but I saw him. I understood. He meant it as plain, honest truth—and he believed he could make it happen. Only Daella's affection for this match may stay his hand."
Alysanne frowned but replied, "You must be jesting, brother. How could a seven-year-old possibly accomplish what you imply?"
"That," Jaehaerys said with a shrug, "is the real question."
Seeing no point in continuing the argument, Alysanne changed the subject.
"You never answered my question, Jaehaerys. The dragons. Why?"
The king's expression darkened. "Why, you ask? There are many reasons for chaining them, and placating the smallfolk or the lords of the realm is not one of them. Do you know how many Targaryen bastards reside on Dragonstone? How many descendants of Valyria are scattered across Essos? What if one of them claims Balerion—or any other dragon, for that matter?"
Alysanne gasped at the implications.
"I hate it every time Vermithor is chained," the king snarled, his anger flaring. "But we must maintain this façade for now. The world has forgotten dragonlore, and to ensure we are not usurped, I must keep Balerion under our control. I will not gamble with the fate of my children and risk them suffering as my niece Aerea did. Chaining the dragons has also given us an aura of strength. The smallfolk and lords alike see us as gods because we command and chain what they consider divine."
Alysanne considered his words, piecing together the implications.
"I understand, my husband," she said softly. Then her tone hardened. "But Balerion is fond of Gaemon, and Gaemon of him. He is willful enough to command the Black Dread, and I am certain nothing like Aerea's tragedy will happen to him. It would be better to let Gaemon claim Balerion and free him from his chains."
The king tried to mask his fear but failed under Alysanne's gaze.
"How dare you, Jaehaerys," Alysanne snapped. "Do you truly believe Gaemon would follow Maegor's path if he claimed Balerion?"
The king didn't deny it. "I simply don't want to tempt someone so young with absolute power."
"Absolute power?" Alysanne scoffed. "I saw Balerion last month. He grows weaker by the day from his injuries and sickness. We have Vhagar, Vermithor, Caraxes, Silverwing, and Meleys with riders. And yet, you still fear the Black Dread's shadow? Where is the brother who claimed the throne while Maegor still rode Balerion?"
Jaehaerys flinched at the question, surprising her.
"And Dreamfyre," Alysanne continued, "will fight Balerion at the first chance. Our sister's hatred for the Black Dread has seeped into that dragon."
"You don't understand," the king said gravely. "If such a fight happens, Balerion will be killed, but how many of our dragons—and children—will he take with him? It's better that no one claims him for now. Ensure Gaemon understands that."
Alysanne scoffed. "This is folly, brother, and you know it."
"Then I shall be a fool who at least tried to prevent a catastrophe," the king replied harshly.
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