They're not just stories. Where I'm from, winter has come and the Long Night is right around the corner. The Night's Watch has been undermanned since the Baratheons took the throne and the Wall's defenses have been breached and the North is the last thing standing between the armies of the dead and the rest of Westeros.
[ it sounds fantastical. so very fantastical. jon hadn't believed it until he'd seen one the wights and the others for himself, until he saw how quickly they seized hardhome and claimed the fallen free folk for their own. so much horror that happened so quickly, with only his valyrian steel sword able to do anything to the white walkers that had the power to make more wights. ]
[ Aemond has spent a time consuming books about the higher mysteries and the legends of these lands and that of Old Valyria. Still, he wants to think that Jon has either hit his head or is sincerely fucking with him.
Because, out of all of that —] A Baratheon took the Iron Throne? The Targaryen's have dragons, that hardly seems feasible.
[ sorry, great uncle, he's going to. an unfortunately relevant part of this tale. ]
The Targaryens had dragons. They hadn't been seen in a hundred years, not until Dβ my aunt [ will he ever get used to thinking of daenerys targaryen as his aunt? probably not. ] hatched three petrified eggs on her husband's funeral pyre.
[ rhaegal makes a noise in the distance, as if he knows that his rider is talking about his mother. ]
The last Targaryen king was plagued with madness, unfit to rule. He was easily overthrown and the remnants of his family killed or driven into exile. My aunt was no more than a babe, whisked away to Essos by those loyal to her mother. My father died fighting the usurper on the Trident. I never knew him. My mother was a Stark and she feared that Robert, the new king, would have me killed if he knew that Rhaegar had a living son. Before she died, she made him promise that he would protect me.
For most of me life, I thought I was the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Hidden in plain sight. Robert never suspected anything. No one did.
It wasn't until recently that I was finally told the truth. Jon Snow was the name my uncle gave me, but my mother called me Aerion. Aerion Targaryen.
[ By Jon's loose math, that would mean dragons die out within the next century years. Big news considering how many are flying about currently. That's about one generation away, something his sister's children might see the end of. Something he might see if he, well — Jon might know the answer to that as well.
He is getting ahead of himself.
The prince's head tilts. He draws towards Jon a bit closer. As though he might be looking for some signature embedded in the Starkgaryen's person that might veil some truth more than words. Close enough to try and see if there's purple in those dusky eyes of his. ]
You don't look anything like a Targaryen to me. Apart from the dragon. Saying you are the son of a son of a mad king, I suppose you may get off being a bit mad yourself.
[ more like the majority die out within the next handful of years, but history has never been jon's strong suit and he isn't about to bring up what happens during and in the years following the dance. especially not with one of the known power players whose fate was a dismal one at that. (all their fates were pretty dismal, even those who lived, from what he recalls of old nan's tales.)
there is some purple, often masked by the shadows of the north and the harsh glare of the snow, allowing the grey flecks he inherited from lyanna to dominate, but out here in the unobstructed sunlight of the south, the lavender hue is more apparent. ]
My mother was a Stark. The blood of the First Men is strong in the North. [ said proudly, as the people of the north aren't too different from the targaryens in the way that they value the near purity of their ancient bloodlines and hold steadfast to the traditions of those who came before instead of allowing themselves to be fully assimilated into andal culture. ]
Perhaps there is a touch of madness to be wary of, but it is your bloodline, tooβ [ how are they related? jon couldn't put together an accurate targaryen family tree if his life depended on it, but considering rhaenyra's sons survived the dance but none of the hightower children didβ ] Uncle. The madness of Aerys II had to have come from somewhere.
[ Doubtful as to he is more a descendant of Rhaenyra's than he could be of Aegon's, Aemond would prefer to assume the latter in this relation. He cannot afford to assume anything else. ]
And where would that be from exactly? None of my ancestors have been particularly considered mad.
[ Maegor was paranoid, there is a difference. ]
It would seem the pool has been spoiled. Losing one's dragons certainly can't have helped.
[ What is a Targaryen without a dragon? Certainly, not all his aunts and uncles over the years were able to claim one. They also tended to live short lives or incredibly mundane ones. Not at all that Aemond himself has a rather unhealthy, co-dependent tether towards his own dragon. ]
[ it's for the best that they don't discuss the details of how exactly aemond is jon's (very distant) uncle. ]
Time and the loss of the dragons, I imagine.
[ jon barely understands the correlation between his targaryen blood and the dragons, but he knows it's a significant one. his bond with rhaegal made him feel whole in ways he never thought possible, filling the void that had plagued him for most of his life that he'd mislabeled as his inability to truly fit in as a bastard who would never be an legitimate stark.
losing the dragons and the order they helped to maintain probably delivered a blow like no other to the targaryens who ruled in the aftermath of the dance's devastation. ]
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[ it sounds fantastical. so very fantastical. jon hadn't believed it until he'd seen one the wights and the others for himself, until he saw how quickly they seized hardhome and claimed the fallen free folk for their own. so much horror that happened so quickly, with only his valyrian steel sword able to do anything to the white walkers that had the power to make more wights. ]
no subject
Because, out of all of that —] A Baratheon took the Iron Throne? The Targaryen's have dragons, that hardly seems feasible.
[ Pls, Jon. Don't say they lost their dragons. ]
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The Targaryens had dragons. They hadn't been seen in a hundred years, not until Dβ my aunt [ will he ever get used to thinking of daenerys targaryen as his aunt? probably not. ] hatched three petrified eggs on her husband's funeral pyre.
[ rhaegal makes a noise in the distance, as if he knows that his rider is talking about his mother. ]
The last Targaryen king was plagued with madness, unfit to rule. He was easily overthrown and the remnants of his family killed or driven into exile. My aunt was no more than a babe, whisked away to Essos by those loyal to her mother. My father died fighting the usurper on the Trident. I never knew him. My mother was a Stark and she feared that Robert, the new king, would have me killed if he knew that Rhaegar had a living son. Before she died, she made him promise that he would protect me.
For most of me life, I thought I was the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Hidden in plain sight. Robert never suspected anything. No one did.
It wasn't until recently that I was finally told the truth. Jon Snow was the name my uncle gave me, but my mother called me Aerion. Aerion Targaryen.
no subject
He is getting ahead of himself.
The prince's head tilts. He draws towards Jon a bit closer. As though he might be looking for some signature embedded in the Starkgaryen's person that might veil some truth more than words. Close enough to try and see if there's purple in those dusky eyes of his. ]
You don't look anything like a Targaryen to me. Apart from the dragon. Saying you are the son of a son of a mad king, I suppose you may get off being a bit mad yourself.
no subject
there is some purple, often masked by the shadows of the north and the harsh glare of the snow, allowing the grey flecks he inherited from lyanna to dominate, but out here in the unobstructed sunlight of the south, the lavender hue is more apparent. ]
My mother was a Stark. The blood of the First Men is strong in the North. [ said proudly, as the people of the north aren't too different from the targaryens in the way that they value the near purity of their ancient bloodlines and hold steadfast to the traditions of those who came before instead of allowing themselves to be fully assimilated into andal culture. ]
Perhaps there is a touch of madness to be wary of, but it is your bloodline, tooβ [ how are they related? jon couldn't put together an accurate targaryen family tree if his life depended on it, but considering rhaenyra's sons survived the dance but none of the hightower children didβ ] Uncle. The madness of Aerys II had to have come from somewhere.
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And where would that be from exactly? None of my ancestors have been particularly considered mad.
[ Maegor was paranoid, there is a difference. ]
It would seem the pool has been spoiled. Losing one's dragons certainly can't have helped.
[ What is a Targaryen without a dragon? Certainly, not all his aunts and uncles over the years were able to claim one. They also tended to live short lives or incredibly mundane ones. Not at all that Aemond himself has a rather unhealthy, co-dependent tether towards his own dragon. ]
no subject
Time and the loss of the dragons, I imagine.
[ jon barely understands the correlation between his targaryen blood and the dragons, but he knows it's a significant one. his bond with rhaegal made him feel whole in ways he never thought possible, filling the void that had plagued him for most of his life that he'd mislabeled as his inability to truly fit in as a bastard who would never be an legitimate stark.
losing the dragons and the order they helped to maintain probably delivered a blow like no other to the targaryens who ruled in the aftermath of the dance's devastation. ]