Of late, Aemon often dreamed of fire and ice, of a spider whispering to black dragon, bird flying from one castle to another, and lions and golden roses marching beneath the banner of black dragon. The dreams almost seemed to talk to him and he knew them to be the work of Gods, old or new, drowned or light it mattered not which one.
He could almost understand them… not quite, not truly, but almost… for he knew what they symbolized. He knew what black dragon proved to be yet never in his last lifetime did he ever heard of a Blackfyre.
It was at the dusk when Aemon was contemplating on the wars to come, alone by the edge of camp when Jojen walks up to him. Seeing the far away look on the King's face the young Reed goes silent and it was only after long minutes of silence that Aemon breaks the silence with a question. "What do you think of dreams, Jojen."
"The Starks have married many time with the Reeds of the Neck your grace, and you carry as much as Wolves blood as of dragons. The dreams you see is called greensight, an ability to have prophetic dreams."
Aemon's face turn serious hearing Jojen's confident explanation, "So what I dream is expected to happen in surety."
"They do," Jojen said with certainty. "But only if you do not partake in the fight to avoid them." and then asks with caution, "May I ask what grieves you much, your grace."
Aemon expression turned soft and answered with all strength he carried inside him, "I fear no men or dragon Jojen that you should know but its the words of plotters and kingmakers that take my sleep away."
"Words are wind" Jojen said his age no more than ten and two but words more profound and true.
Aemon gave a smile hearing the saying of North, "That they are," he then turned towards the camp, "Come its time we decide future plans."
Jojen nodded and followed behind the King, "Can you tell me of your dream, your grace."
"Though there were many instance of creatures in my dreams, it a bird, spider and black dragon that worry me. Do try to find there identities if possible." Aemon replied while beckoning a Velaryon soldier to approach standing not too far away guarding him. "What do you think of them, the Velaryons.", he asks softly.
"They are true your grace just like their words 'The Old, the True, the Brave' , and it matters not for the pretender coming for they will follow you more so when proven with marriage parchment proven by signatures of High Septon of the Faith of the Seven and the Kingsguard." Jojen replied in a whisper.
Both turned silent when the soldier appeared, "Your Grace.", the knight clad in Velaryon armor of ocean colors with metal strips and sea-green cloak, kneels upon arriving.
"Call upon the lords present both of narrow sea and Vale in the central tent and also make sure none of the Tully soldier appear close to prison." Aemon orders.
The knight runs and rushed to the duties commanded.
By the time Aemon and Jojen appeared in the tent, it was filled with everyone's presence and with one new face. Aemon turns to the new face and before he or any could begin the man kneels, "I Ser Desmond Mooton of House Mooton swear fealty to King Aemon of House Targaryen."
Aemon nodded hearing words and starts, "You can rise Ser Desmond." and question Lord Royce, "Lord Yohn Royce you told us of riots happening across Lands of Vale did you not."
Lord Yohn Royce nods, "I did your grace, and my words hold true. The Mountain clans specifically the Burned Men, Black Ears and Stone Crows they pillage the lands of minor lords and hamlets by countryside all with armor and weapons provided by Lannisters."
Aemon goes silent after hearing situation from Lord Royce, "Jojen any word on situation in Westeros outside of Vale."
"The North remains at peace now, your grace with Ironborn dead. The Riverland and Westerland remain at war against each other with few houses from Crownlands taking part joining Lannister side, House Rosby being the major supporter. The Reach and Stormlands have launched their march on Lord Stannis who still claims to be King with Renly now marching under Lannister banner. They will reach Storms End in a sennight.", Jojen responded with everything hr had gathered.
Murmurs begins with news provided and Aemon speaks to Lord Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven, "How many man can Blackhaven muster in a week, Lord Beric."
"No more than 5000, your grace for Dornish Marches is land of sparse population." Beric replied with more reason to his answer.
"Lord Grafton you will march together with Ser Desmond, Lord Templeton you will march with Ser Brynden to east and north respectively removing pests which pester peace of Vale. Mount their heads if needed, I'll have no crime pestering while realm fights war for throne. Lord Royce you will work with other lords and deliver King's justice." Aemon replied thinking of all ways to bring Mountains clan to knees.
Everyone present give their approval at the command and Aemon continued, "Lord Celtigar, Ser Barristan and Commander Grey Worm you will march to Castle Darry of Riverlands." He then turns to lords who will remain in Vale, "I hope to see you lords in Riverlands no late then two sennights, Sers"
Jojen started when he finished, "You have plans for Stormlands I believe, your grace."
"I plan to bring House Baratheon into service of House Targaryen once again through Stannis." Aemon answerd with assurance.
It was as his thoughts that Aunt Shiera was the first to snap, her face he believed to twisted in fury beneath her mask, "If you believe that I would let you walk... ."
"Aunt just listen," he sighed. "I will be visiting Summerhall and not fighting wars down Meleys, moreover I will be travelling with Lord Beric down there."
"Very well, your grace" Shiera relented hearing his reasons though she looked reluctant in giving her approval.
"I would ask you to go to Dragonstone before travelling to Storms End, your grace." Lord Adrian Celtigar said as if he remembered something.
Aemon nods and then turns to Lord Beric, "Its time for a ride Lord Beric."
Barbrey rode on her red horse wearing black, as ever, though its sleeves were lined with vair. Her gown had a high stiff collar that framed her face. She watched as number of men from Barrowton, White Harbor, Hornwood, Deepwood Motte, Bear Island, Castle Black and even the bunch of Wildlings or Free Folk as they called themselves, march towards the Neck. Her husband, William Dustin must have once rode these roads to the south only never to return and what Eddard Stark returned was the horse she had given to her husband.
Yet it was not the time for it for Lord Commander Mormont rode behind talking to his niece Alyssane Mormont, together with his men from Night's Watch yet it was the shaking locked crates that attracted all the marchers.
"What's inside of them, Lord Commander" asks Larence Snow, the bastard son of Lord Halys Hornwood for the times she had forgotten count of, yet something she wanted answer of for it was the reactions from men of Night's Watch and Wildlings that piqued her interest, that fear.
But this time Lord Mormont answered, "You would have to see it for yourself, Snow for it was the King's word we are following."
Barbrey never to let the words by questioned her own, "So the Night's watch has got rid of its neutrality by swearing fealty to King Aemon Targaryen."
Jeor turns to her and it was pity for a moment that flashed through his eyes, something she liked not as the old Mormont spoke, "The cold rise from the North, from beyond the wall, Lady Dustin. Summer has ended, and a winter is coming such as this world has never seen. You may not like the Starks but their words hold true more so now than ever, Winter is Coming. "
It was in silence that the men marched on from then, except for the play of young Rickon Stark on his direwolf's back, a black beast with savagery unmatched that even wildlings feared to near him. The youngest stark wanted nothing but to travel to meet his now best-loved brother and it was only Osha, another wildling girl who could control him. The crippled boy Bran Stark has sent best of his men to escort his brother though Manderly knights travelled too with them.
When they approached the ruined castle of Moat Cailin the sight of melted rocks were enough to many remember the tyranny and absolute reign of Targaryens.
The master-at-arms of House Dustin, Ser Beron starts upon seeing the castle, "It was here my lady that King Aemon fed Victarion Greyjoy to his dragon Meleys."