The White Dragon - A sharp Reminder. (Patreon)

Rhaella Targaryen, Dragon carriage – Close to the Wall, the North.

"Good afternoon, Lady Chiara," Rhaella said calmly and elegantly, walking calmly toward the imposing warrior guarding her grandson's chambers.

"Queen Rhaella," the dangerous woman said, a Lycant, the dragon maiden remembered, taller, stronger, and more dangerous than many men she had ever known, one of Aemon's King's Guards.

Such a concept was still strange to Rhaella, but she considered it a good omen that her grandson had a woman as a Lady Commander, something that Rhaella knew would be heavily criticized in Westeros.

At least until they saw Chiara fight, she thought with satisfaction, remembering the last few days in Winterfell, more specifically, the way the beautiful woman had torn apart half a dozen guards in Winterfell with alarming ease.

"Is my grandson inside? I wish to speak with him before we reach Mole Town" Rhaella said calmly and politely, something she had learned from her grandson.

Aemon… was different, without a doubt the product of his upbringing with Lord Eddard Stark and his own adventures in this… Midgard. Her grandson was magnanimous, but not weak; he had a tendency toward mercy, but he did not fear war; intelligent and cold-minded, yet respectful and well-mannered.

Even on a small scale, Rhaella had watched from the shadows as Aemon moved around Winterfell, memorizing the names of the servants, learning about them and their families, caring for them, and if it was within his means, even offering help, not because he sought any kind of benefit.

But simply because he could.

"That is the right thing to do. That is the duty of a King, to look after the well-being of his people," he had once told her when Rhaella had asked about the reason behind his actions, and the Queen Mother could not help but feel an immense warmth in her chest, filled with pride at her grandson's mindset.

So correct and grounded.

Aemon did not see ruling as a right, but as the heaviest of obligations. He had not yet sat upon the Iron Throne and was already forging political and commercial alliances, using his frankly terrifying influence.

Rhaella was completely certain that Aemon could reclaim the Seven Kingdoms on his own, without taking Arraxys or the rest of the Dragons into consideration.

However, that could wait. Rhaella refocused on the present when she saw Chiara nod softly.

"Come in. I have orders to let you pass," the woman said, making the queen nod softly and enter Aemon's chambers.

They were… enormous, evidently expanded with magic. Rhaella still had considerable difficulty consolidating in her mind the simple fact of the immense and terrifying power Aemon possessed.

Magic.

But nothing like the blood magic and tricks of the red priests of Volantis, but actual sorcery, feats more than worthy of the stories of Old Valyria and the Age of Heroes.

"Grandmother, welcome," Aemon said, seated at his desk, completely focused on the large number of parchments and thick books before him.

"Aemon," the former Queen said, swallowing with difficulty and looking around her, taking in the details of the luxurious and magical room.

Before her stood her grandson's temporary study, much larger than she had expected. Everything was made of dark stone, quite similar to what Rhaella had seen on Dragonstone, as if Aemon had melted the stone and reshaped it at will.

The place was enormous, evidently enchanted, considering the majestic window that allowed Rhaella to see the immense ocean, as well as the silhouette of Arraxys flying freely.

Something that left her completely stunned for a few seconds, considering that they were still inside a damned carriage.

Rhaella's gaze traveled across the polished floor toward the surroundings, smiling when she saw the enormous Targaryen banner behind her grandson's desk, right beside the immense bed next to the window overlooking the ocean, elevated upon a stone platform.

Upon it, much to Rhaella's disapproval, was the red-haired young woman Aemon had taken as his lover and bed warmer. Her name was Ygritte, and she was sleeping naked, the thin layer of sweat covering her body betraying the activities her grandson had been engaged in moments ago, her visibly conquered and open, with her grandson's precious dragon seed leaking from her broken insides.

"I see you've been busy, Aemon," she said with some disapproval, walking over and taking a seat in front of the desk, curiously observing whatever it was her grandson was doing.

She could see enormous account books, where Aemon apparently kept a detailed record of his commercial operations. Rhaella was unfamiliar with several terms and places, but it was more than obvious that Aemon was quite skilled at making gold.

Considering the number of zeros the queen saw on the luxurious parchments Aemon was placing his personal seal upon, which he then placed on a silver tray beside his desk and which disappeared to the Gods knew where.

"Yes, business in Midgard is going quite well, but the Coalition has prepared everything to come to Westeros. Robb has been the first beneficiary, from what I can see. The North is large enough to begin producing certain resources. Wine?" Aemon asked without lifting his gaze from whatever he was writing.

With an indifferent gesture, Rhaella watched as a beautiful and luxurious glass floated toward her, while a beautiful Wolf-shaped bottle moved, pouring a blue-colored liquid into it, which instantly froze the glass.

"Gods," the Queen whispered, inhaling deeply at the exquisite flavor of the beverage before taking a sip and moaning at the delicious, sweet taste, before opening her mouth and exhaling an icy mist from her throat.

"That is Frost Wine, one of my best products. I made it during my first years in Midgard, and it has been my greatest source of income during these years. Even now… the amount of gold it generates is incredible, which is good for us, considering the plans I have for Westeros," he said with determination, making Rhaella smile proudly.

"It is exquisite, my grandson, and all your work… is incredible, far beyond anything I could have imagined."

Aemon raised his gaze before smiling softly and making a gesture with his hand, causing the parchments and everything related to his businesses to fly from his desk into a nearby cabinet, leaving the table empty and all of his attention focused on her.

"We should reach the Wall soon. Our visit will be quite short. I will negotiate with Jeor Mormont for the release of Maester Aemon. I will make him an offer he cannot refuse," he said with determination, making Rhaella nod with a frown.

"I agree with your intention to keep the family together, but… I don't know if the Lord Commander will accept it," the queen said tentatively, making Aemon shake his head and respond firmly.

"He will. You can be certain of that," Aemon said firmly, at the same time Ygritte began to moan and awaken from her long slumber.

"Oh, Gods…" the redhead moaned, rapidly opening and closing her eyes, trying to make the exhaustion disappear before focusing her gaze on Aemon and Rhaella.

"Welcome to the world of the living," her grandson said with amusement, while Rhaella merely frowned at the closeness between her grandson and the young woman.

"I see you're still busy. How long will it take you to come back to bed?" the redhead asked without the slightest shame, completely ignoring Rhaella, much to her indignation.

Aemon merely snorted and answered.

"It will be later. We are close to Mole Town, where we will set up the carriage while Viserys and I ride to the Wall," her grandson said calmly, making the redhead nod softly and stand up, revealing her beautiful and slender body before Rhaella's gaze.

"Then I'll go with you," Ygritte said simply, as she stood completely naked and walked toward the room's bathroom, swaying her hips to Aemon's evident pleasure, before looking at him with a provocative smile and disappearing down the corridor.

Aemon merely laughed softly before looking back toward Rhaella, who was frowning.

"It is not wise for you to become attached to that young woman, Aemon," she said softly, knowing she was treading on delicate ground, but more than willing to make herself heard.

"Oh?" was her grandson's only response before he calmly leaned back in his chair, observing her.

Rhaella inhaled deeply, preparing herself for the discussion. Aemon was quite mature, polite, and courteous, but he was a man, and in her opinion, he was making a mistake.

"You… will have to take a wife, and it will not be fair to her for you to find warmth and pleasure in the arms of another woman. You will have to honor and respect her, not like your…"

At this point, Rhaella knew she had spoken too much. She had allowed her feelings to escape through her mouth, and accumulated resentment, both from Aerys's humiliations and the mistakes of her beloved Rhaegar, had come to light.

No… she did not want Aemon to be like them. She truly wanted Aemon to have only one wife, and for whatever maiden his future queen might be, she would not suffer the humiliations Rhaella herself had suffered.

Aemon's face filled with realization before his expression filled with pity and some irritation, making the Queen curse inwardly.

"Like my father? Wasn't Princess Elia enough for him?" the young king said, making Rhaella sigh heavily with guilt.

"I apologize, Your Grace. I spoke too much," the Queen Mother said, bowing her head before Aemon, who merely stared at her in silence, his eyes impassive.

"You did, that is true, but it is more than obvious that you harbor some resentment toward my father" Aemon said astutely, attacking mercilessly precisely where it hurt Rhaella the most.

Her beloved firstborn.

"I… was not there, and I do not agree with your father's decision to annul his marriage to Elia and take your mother as his wife. I understand that Rhaegar would have wanted some fun, but…" Rhaella said, only to be sharply interrupted by Aemon.

"Fun? Are you implying that my mother, a Highborn Lady from one of the oldest, most powerful, and most important families on the Continent, was not important enough to be a princess of the realm?" Aemon asked, while his eyes turned that amber color, and particles of ice began manifesting throughout the room.

Rhaella knew instantly that she had fucked up. The oppressive sensation was immediate, as if an enormous stone had fallen upon her shoulders, overwhelming her, and for the first time, making her feel the monstrous magical power Aemon held over her body.

"I… Aemon…" the Queen tried to speak, only to feel the oppression return.

"Or is it that… would you have preferred me to actually be a bastard? I imagine it would have been easier: place a crown on Viserys's head, marry him to Rhaenys or Margaery, and perhaps promise Daenerys to some Lord in exchange for political support. Am I wrong? using me as a leisure to the North, legitimizing a bastard as a prince, in exchange for House Stark Support" Aemon asked aloud, making Rhaella's eyes widen instantly, shocked by Aemon's terrifyingly accurate deduction.

"Your Grace, no… I…" Rhaella tried to speak, but the oppression was so overwhelming that she lacked the words, so she could only helplessly watch as Aemon slowly stood, his icy wolf-like gaze focused completely upon her.

"I think it is important that we make something quite clear, dowager queen. We are family, and at least for the Starks, that is important. I will look after the well-being of all of you, without exception. But do not mistake yourself, Grandmother. Things are going to change in the Seven Kingdoms. Families will disappear, many will lose their noble status and be replaced by new Lords. A new Order, a Magical one, is coming to Westeros, with different traditions and rules to follow, I will take as many wives as I need to secure that future and if, to secure that future I must extinguish the fate and replace half of the Lord of the Continent, so be it" Aemon said, as his eyes returned to normal and Rhaella was able to sigh in relief once again when she felt the monstrous sensation disappear.

"Westeros… will be reluctant to change," she whispered, knowing she had exhausted her welcome in her grandson's chambers, at least for the moment.

"Of course they will, change is never comfortable, but it is generally for the better. The Lords will adapt, or they will be replaced. It is that simple. It is time for the nobility of Westeros to understand that no one is, or will ever be, indispensable and that the word of the Patriarch House of the Dragon, is Law"

Including you, was what Aemon did not say, but Rhaella understood perfectly, making the Queen nod in complete submission before her grandson, who merely sighed heavily and stood up, at the same time the wild redhead emerged from the bathroom, now wearing an elegant and feminine gray Northern-style tunic and a white cloak.

"Are we leaving?" she asked, completely ignoring Rhaella and taking the elegant and beautiful bow Aemon had commissioned for her. It was more than evident that the young woman had heard the not-so-pleasant words of the Queen toward her.

"Yes. Tell Tormund that he will ride with us. I will leave instructions before seeing you outside the carriage," Aemon ordered, making the redhead nod and begin leaving the room, letting out a small yelp when she felt Aemon's resounding slap on her ass.

Ygritte looked at him with amusement before continuing on her way, leaving Rhaella and Aemon alone once again.

For several seconds, neither she nor her grandson said a word. Rhaella merely watched as Aemon moved around the room directly toward some kind of… strange dragon statue, which was sitting directly on his desk.

Rhaella did not know what it was, but Aemon looked at it solemnly, as if having a discussion with himself, before nodding softly and placing his finger inside the dragon's mouth, causing, to Rhaella's surprise, the statuette to give him a fleeting bite.

"AHHG!" the former Queen screamed, before watching in astonishment as the statuette's eyes began to glow blood red, at the same time the statue's chest began slowly opening, revealing to Rhaella the image of a strange diamond-shaped stone, which gently floated into Aemon's hand, where he regarded it with deep respect.

At first glance, it did not appear to be anything spectacular, but it was more than evident that it was something very important.

"There are many things you do not know, Grandmother, too many to name, including what really happened to my father and grandfather," Aemon said solemnly, before walking toward her, the stone floating in his hand.

"What… What is that, Aemon?" she asked, stammering and swallowing at the powerful and mysterious object in her grandson's hand.

"You will know soon," her grandson said, placing the stone into her hands with extreme gentleness, making Rhaella release the air she had been holding in her lungs.

The object floated gently, like a faint and cold heartbeat. It was… difficult to explain.

"Now I will leave… but remember that the truth can also be painful, be strong" her grandson whispered before continuing on his way and closing the door to the chambers, leaving her completely alone.

Rhaella, for her part, could only stare hypnotically at the strange stone in her hands. She thought… she thought about her grandson's words, about what he had said regarding Rhaegar and Aerys, about how… things were not what they truly appeared to be.

The former queen slowly watched as the stone in her hand began rotating upon itself. Three times the strange object turned in her hands.

When… it happened…

"Muna."

"Mandia."

Rhaella gasped in absolute shock upon hearing those voices before slowly turning around, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of them, the two ghosts who had haunted her nights for years.

Her beloved son, her dear firstborn, her little Rhaegar.

And beside him, still as she remembered him, young and full of vitality, nothing like the heartless beast he had become, was Aerys, looking at her with a smile and eyes full of regret.

"No," she whispered shakily, while both smiled sadly.

"We do not have much time, Muna. We have much to talk about," her beloved son whispered, with that tone of voice that made the queen's throat tighten.

The most complicated and painful conversation of her life was about to begin.

Rhaenys Targaryen, Sunspear – Dorne.

"Do you know why your mother has called this meeting?" Arianne asked curiously, while both walked calmly through the beautiful halls of Sunspear, both lost in their thoughts.

"Not at all, but given the urgency of the message, I would assume that it is something important," Rhaenys said calmly, lost in her thoughts, while both walked through the most private corridors of the fortress, those where even the spies from King's Landing could not enter.

The area reserved for House Nymeros Martell, and the place where Rhaenys had lived her entire life.

Rhaenys's life… had not been bad, at least not since they left King's Landing, thanks to the help of Ser Jaime, who had helped them escape the Red Keep through the castle's tunnels.

The young princess did not know exactly what had happened afterward, or what trick the Lannister knight had used, but the Usurper truly believed that Rhaenys, her mother, and her brother Aegon were actually dead.

And the beautiful Dornish beauty could not help but snort in amusement at that little secret…

There was no Aegon Targaryen, at least none who had ever lived, since that Aegon had perished before he could even come into the world, on Dragonstone.

One of her beloved father's lies to protect her mother's life, Princess Elia, from the madness of Aerys Targaryen.

However, Rhaenys had another brother. She had memories of him. When she was very young, she still remembered Aemon with a smile, who played with her during her childhood, promised to always protect her, and promised to be there for her.

Her mother thought he was an imaginary friend, but Rhaenys knew the truth, and when her beloved mother received the news that Rhaenys had a brother named Aemon, the young princess knew that he was her beloved protector.

The owner of the young princess's heart, to whom she had promised her body, a brother she had never actually known.

Oh, Ari and the rest of her cousins did not understand it. They regularly talked about pleasure and their adventures between the sheets with certain knights and squires, but that mattered little to the beautiful Targaryen princess.

She belonged to Aemon, and she would not sully her body with inferior specimens.

A dragon belonged to another dragon, after all.

Some time later, both princesses arrived at the private hall of the Martells, where the rest of the family was already present, including Ser Arthur, who looked more solemn and pleased than usual.

And Rhaenys could only hear fragments of the conversation.

"It is great news. The North is preparing for war," said the knight, her father's best friend and her mother's lover, no matter how much they both wanted to hide it.

"What is such great news?" Ari asked curiously, swaying her voluptuous body toward a nearby chair, sitting down and crossing her beautiful legs.

The answer did not come from the knight, but from her uncle Oberyn, who was gently drinking from his cup.

"A letter from the North. Aemon Targaryen has met with your grandmother Rhaella, your uncle Viserys, and your aunt Daenerys. He commands wealth, allies, and an army of his own. The North is preparing to march. The time is approaching, my niece," the Red Viper said with evident excitement and bloodlust.

Ari and Rhaenys looked at each other in surprise, but before they could say anything, Ser Arthur continued.

"Aemon marched to the Wall to retrieve Maester Aemon before sailing to Sunspear. Apparently, my king wants to gather all the blood of the Dragon and have it close by, something intelligent, in my opinion," the knight said.

"Aemon is already coming?" Rhaenys whispered excitedly, her violet eyes shining with emotion, knowing she was only a few months away from her long wait finally coming to an end once and for all.

The moment she had been waiting for was finally here, the moment when Rhaenys would give herself, body and soul, to her beloved King, Aemon.

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing war. Apparently, Aemon possessed his own fleet, which would arrive in Dorne with him before beginning the assault on Dragonstone.

The North would gather thirty thousand soldiers, perhaps more, who would assemble at Moat Cailin, which was being repaired and fortified by Aemon's order.

"The young King wastes no time. His network of contacts has apparently already begun moving" her uncle Doran said with evident approval. However, before they could continue discussing the future war, the meeting was interrupted by Ellaria, who, to Rhaenys's surprise, entered the private room without warning, annoying her uncle Doran in the process.

"What does this mean?" the Prince of Dorne spat with irritation, more because of the security of Rhaenys and her mother, but his uncle's lover did not answer. Instead, she walked directly toward Doran with hands trembling with fury and handed him a letter.

"An emissary from Essos came a moment ago, Doran, saying he served Jon Connington. He brought this with him," the woman said, paralyzing all the Martells on the spot.

"Connington? Rhaegar's sword-swallowing follower? Is he still alive?" her mother spat furiously, watching as her uncle Doran read the letter, making his eyes widen more and more, while his hand began trembling for some strange reason.

"Brother? Is everything all right?" her uncle Oberyn asked, concerned by the strange reaction.

The answer from her uncle Doran? One that would shake the entire House Martell, and one that would threaten all their existing plans.

"Jon Connington, Hand of the King of King Aegon VI Targaryen, informs us that he will visit Sunspear alongside his King to recruit Dorne's aid on his way to reclaim his rightful throne. He will arrive in two moons," Doran said, trembling with fury.

Two moons, the same amount of time it would take Aemon to reach Sunspear…

Rhaenys frowned as she watched everyone at the table reach the same deduction: the rightful heir, King Aemon Targaryen, and this… usurper who called himself Aegon Targaryen, would be present in Dorne at the same time.

"Shit," her uncle Oberyn said, but the reaction Rhaenys feared was that of her beloved mother, who could not stop trembling with fury and hatred.

"They dare… They dare!! THEY DARE TO USE THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED AEGON!!!" the princess roared furiously, tears of hatred on her face, her body trembling.

Rhaenys could only watch as chaos descended upon the table of House Nymeros Martell.

And the game had only just begun.