Aemon's footsteps echoed through the quiet halls of Dragonstone as he approached the dining hall. The heavy wooden doors loomed ahead, dark carvings of dragons and flames flickering in the torchlight.
He passed servants, heads down, moving swiftly, not daring to meet his gaze. Aemon felt their eyes on him, the silence following like a shadow.
Taking a steadying breath, he straightened his tunic before entering the grand hall. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, but his chest tightened with unspoken expectations, both his and his family's.
His body still ached from the morning's training, but the weight of duty pressed hardest now.
The massive doors creaked open, revealing the grandeur of the hall inside. A long table was laden with food, surrounded by golden goblets and gleaming silver.
The royal family was seated at the head, casting shadows as the candlelight flickered in the cool air.
At the head of the table, King Aerys sat, his sharp eyes scanning the room but not lifting to meet Aemon's gaze.
Beside him, Queen Rhaella, her pregnant belly swollen, graceful and composed, smiled softly at Aemon.
Across from them sat Aemon's nephew, Rhaegar, lost in thought as always.
Aemon approached, bowing as he reached the head of the table. Aerys' eyes lit up when he saw him, a smile tugging at his lips, though a hint of concern flashed in his eyes.
"Aemon," Aerys boomed. "Good to see you're back on your feet. Two days unconscious… that's quite the rest. How are you feeling?"
Aemon smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine now, Your Grace. Just… tired. It was nothing serious. I've started training again, and I'm back to normal."
Queen Rhaella, concerned, leaned forward. "Are you certain? Two days without waking is unusual."
Aemon sat beside Rhaegar, offering a light laugh. "I assure you, it was just exhaustion. I pushed myself too hard, and my body shut down. I'm completely fine now."
Aerys waved a hand dismissively, his usual carefree attitude returning. "A boy's stamina can only last so long. You'll need to pace yourself better, eh? Don't go fainting all over the place."
Rhaella smiled, but her eyes remained cautious. "Aemon, take care of yourself. You are important to this family."
"I will, Your Grace," Aemon replied, his voice steady. "I'll be more careful. It won't happen again."
Aerys took a sip from his goblet, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Aemon, pride in his voice. "I've heard great things from Maester Geradys and Ser Barristan. You've mastered the bow already, and your dagger skills are impressive for your age."
Aemon remained composed, offering a modest smile. "I'm grateful for their guidance."
"I'm surprised," Aerys continued, "but impressed. You're well on your way to becoming a great warrior. And House Targaryen needs strong warriors."
Aemon's heart swelled with pride. "Yes, Your Grace. I'll keep training. I'll be the warrior House Targaryen needs."
Aerys gave a satisfied nod, his eyes glinting with approval. "Good. We'll see great things from you, Aemon. Now, eat. A warrior needs his strength."
As Aemon began to pick at his food, the conversation shifted. Queen Rhaella beamed at Aemon, her voice light and warm. "I've heard you and Rhaegar have become quite close. Maester Geradys mentioned you're even teaching him music. Is that true?"
Aemon smiled, proud. "Yes, Rhaegar and I will make a great team. I have so much to teach him."
Rhaegar didn't respond, but the slightest shift in his expression suggested amusement. Aemon grinned at him.
"I'm sure he'll be a fast learner," Aemon added, his enthusiasm evident.
Rhaegar raised an eyebrow but remained silent, the faintest smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
Rhealla chuckled softly. "It's good to know Rhaegar will be in capable hands," she said. "Perhaps he'll learn more than just music from you, Aemon."
Aemon smiled, feeling the praise, but Rhaegar's deadpan look only made him chuckle.
Aerys shifted in his seat, his tone now firm, his words carrying weight. "I've spent enough time mourning here at Dragonstone. It's time to return to King's Landing and resume my duties. I can't let the council rule in my place."
He turned his gaze to Aemon, his eyes sharp. "And you, my boy, will come with us. It's time to claim your role as Prince of the Realm. You'll come to King's Landing."
His mind raced, overwhelmed by the weight of his fate.
He had hoped for more time—more time to train, more time to avoid the weight of his name, to savour the peace of Dragonstone. But that peace was slipping away with Aerys' words. The king's resolve was firm, and so was Aemon's fate.
King's Landing.
A place he had never longed for—full of political games, shifting alliances, and constant power struggles.
King's Landing had always felt distant, a world he wasn't ready to enter. Dragonstone had been his sanctuary, a place to be a boy, not a prince. But that comfort was gone, and he could no longer stay hidden.
The weight of his responsibilities settled over him, heavy and unrelenting. The thought of leaving Dragonstone and this part of his life behind filled him with a deep ache.
He looked across the table at his family—Aerys, Rhaella, Rhaegar. They waited for him to confirm he was ready. Aerys, already turning back to the feast, acted as if it was settled. Rhaella's gaze lingered, full of concern.
Aerys smiled, sensing Aemon's hesitation. "It's time you learn what it meant to be a Targaryen, Aemon. You'll come to King's Landing with us."
Aemon's chest tightened. The silence felt deafening, pressing on him. He had trained for this, but the reality was different. He wasn't just preparing to be a warrior—he was about to embrace a life of power, influence, and responsibility. The expectations were growing heavier by the second.
Would he be enough?
For a moment, he wished he could escape, disappear into the sea beyond Dragonstone. A place where no one could demand anything of him.
Deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore it. His duty wasn't just to his bloodline—this was to his family and House Targaryen. And that duty was calling him louder than ever.
Aemon's thoughts swirled, and the weight of his decision settled like a stone in his chest.
[This is your path, Aemon. You cannot change the future by staying here.]
The calm voice of S.E.R.A. cut through the storm in his mind, offering clarity where there was confusion.
Aemon's breath steadied as the words sank in. He wasn't here to hide forever. He had to leave Dragonstone to secure his house's future and change their fate. If he stayed, nothing would change. This was his destiny, his responsibility—and it was time to face it.
With quiet resolve, he lifted his head, meeting Aerys' gaze. His voice was resolute despite the storm in his chest. "Yes, Your Grace. I will go. I'll do my duty."
Aerys nodded, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. "Good. We leave at first light. Be ready."
With a grand gesture, Aerys raised his goblet high. "Enough of this business! Let the feast begin! We have much to celebrate!"
The first course arrived, the aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filling the air.
As the conversation turned back to lighter matters, Aemon's heart still raced in his chest, but the uncertainty began to fade. This was his next step, and he would not face it alone. He would carry Dragonstone's gifts—his strength, lessons, and memories—into this new chapter.
For better or worse, King's Landing awaited him.
.
.
.
---