"You do not face a man, nor even a mortal. You face a storm given flesh, a plague of fire and fury, the Stranger's shadow cast upon the earth. And mark me—I would not trade places with you, not even on your best day, Queenmaker".- Lord Borros Baratheon
Consolidation of Academic Debates 245AC; Section 12: The great academic debate of 212 AC between Arch Maester Brandon and Grand Maester Eddrick: What is a king?
Archmaester Brandon: selflessness.
During this tumultuous time, many a high lord are seeking counsel on what a king is, who should be the king, and what makes a great king. I will be answering that with one word: sacrifice. A king needs to be willing to sacrifice everything and everyone, all his wants and desires and needs, for the betterment of his people.
We need a king who can give up the crown for love of his people. That's why I would counsel every lord, great and minor, to cast his vote for Prince Meleys, a man who has only ever put his foot forward to build the realm's stability. He's the king we will need.
Prince Aemon would be almost as big a disaster as his namesake. The selfish warmonger who, like a serpent, has slithered his way into one position after another for his own benefit. He has crippled the poor without a trial. He has encroached upon the rights of lords with their wives, putting the crown's nose in the marriage of nobles for the enforcement of some ancient laws made by his namesake, much to the resistance of the master of laws. We cannot let a man governed only by his own desires take the lead; it would lead to the second coming of Meagor or, worse, the great evil. We need Jaehaerys I Targaryen, and we will only get that through a wise ruler willing to sacrifice for his people, like Prince Meleys. The man who gave up his love for a marriage to bring stability to the Vale. A man who can walk the thorny path of martyrdom can surely shoulder the burden of being a king who carries chivalry and honour to his end.
Grand Maester Eddrick: Selfishness.
Kings, what a foolish notion that we may understand the nature of beings chosen by the seven to lead us, but I shall give it a gander. What's one more fool throwing his opinion into the world?
Kings are not merely hereditary; by that, I mean kings may inherit the power from their fathers. We must first separate kings and princes; the latter are the most common ones we see, ones that can be deposed, ones that can be ignored, like Viserys and Aenys, and ones that are unfit, such as Meakear or Dearon. These are princes, boys who've never developed the qualities to sit on the Iron Throne, mere princes wearing crowns. That's why in each of their lifetimes we've seen the rise of personalities who've surpassed, challenged and defeated them. A king cannot be defeated.
A king is not made. I am not alluding to that; in my opinion, kings are born different, born above everyone, as we saw with Aegon I and Aemon I. Kings are born to rule; they are different in their very souls; the seven have made them all incredibly selfish.
Yes, selfishness is what makes a king great, not martyrdom. We don't need a man willing to put himself up on a cross to lead us; we need a man who will tear down the cross and use it to fuel the fire of his aspirations. Kings are not men; they are forces of nature. Their very words become law, not because of their position but because of their might.
Might that come from their own ability – their ability that terrifies and subjugates all nobles to them, their ability that makes enemies burn with envy, abilities that make every soul that has ever fallen for them in battle have unshakable faith in them in the fact that their loyalty will not be in vain, that even if they may have fallen, their king still stands and will shoulder their dying wishes to his end, that he will not fall till their purpose is fulfilled, that he will carve his way to victory no matter the odds, no matter his opposition.
He will not lose simply because losing is not his destiny.
A king may be an ultimate evil or may be an ultimate good. Kings carry the weight of both extremes in their hearts, but no matter their nature, they all share one belief, and that is that they can not lose because the world is theirs to take as they please.
A king does not lay down his wants for another; he simply carves through the opposition. A king does not run; a king fights his own battles. A king is absolute.
This is why Prince Aemon should be the king, because he is a man who will take the world for his own wants – a man who can not guarantee his own wants can guarantee us nothing.
112 AC Battle of the fourteen flames
Aemon Pov
*tap* tap*tap*
The rain hammered against my armour, the water bounced off the metal, the rhythmic hissing of the raindrops against my helmet echoed against my ears, flash of lightning and *Crack* of thunder roared above me, my leather gloves rubbed against the hard jagged scales of Apophis the gentle rise and descent of his chest soothed me a clam against the raging storm
It was a good idea to take him out for storm riding practice, and he seemed to love the challenge of flying against the storm as he let out a few delighted bursts of flames
*ROAR*
A thunderous roar broke through the storm. Apophis seemed to tense up, shifting slightly to the left to glide towards the challengers to his dominion over the sky. From a distance, I could see it below, outside of Oldtown, three dragons: Vhagar, Meleys and Seasmoke.
This can't be good. Why would three of them come here? It's either to attack me, or we're being invaded by the Night King, and if so, for fuck's sake, the only good thing about this time is that I'm supposed to be long dead when that blue fucker makes his way to the south.
*Crack*
I cracked my whip using the reins to guide Apophis to the ground, he let out a low growl at the whip boy. Does he not like that? Usually, I wouldn't use it, but in the store, he can't hear me over the wind and rain, so I had to resort to this note to myself: don't use the whip anymore. I felt a soft hum from the beast as he *crashed* to the ground, kicking up dirt and grass, some of it splattering against his wings.
I was about 30 meters away from them. "Hey, auntie", I said, a slight smirk on my face as I looked upon the three dragonriders before me. This was going to be a pain.
"Aemon, we aren't here for a social visit. We have been tasked by the king, your father, to end that abomination you call a mount. Step off it so we may complete this mission without shedding more blood than need be." Her mechanical voice rasped through the storm.
"Spectacular, just spectacular... Would my sweet sister be the reason that Craven suddenly grew some balls?" I said, resting my hands on the pommel of my saddle. This had gone from bad to worse; this would most likely kick off the dance right now if I defied him. Not even I can openly defy a direct order by him, and that's if I live to see the end of this. Three dragons are against me, and one is Vhagar of all creatures. Damn that old cunt! Can't he see how much power another house has over this kingdom? Is this a realm united under House Targaryen or one under the sea snake?
"Enough talk, boy. Get off that beast. Don't fight this; you can't win, and even if you managed to drive me back, this would be treason. You'd unite the realms against you. Surrender, and you shall live to grow old and see your children ... to fight another day." Rhaenys's raspy voice echoed through the barren field, no hint of fear in her; she doesn't think I can win.
"Grow old to have kids...under the rule of my whore sister? I think not." I'd most likely be fed to Caraxes when the bastard comes back; no way I'd live to see the dance. She'd sleep with half a realm to secure my death; that's just how much we loved each other.
"Indeed, and I do not know why you would imply Rheanyra to be a kin slayer, but know this: you will be safe. House Velaryon will protect you. It is a honey-coated bargain. You shall rule as consort to Leana, and your good brother will be king consort. Your safety and that of your children will be guaranteed." She said in a less enthusiastic voice if that was even possible.
So that was what they got out of it. They'd dare to try and separate me and Adella to try and marry me off like some common whore to be bartered with. How dare they? Do they mean to turn me into this era's Andrew Farman? Do I seem that pathetic to them, so easily cowed into submission? The more I conversed, the angrier I felt that they intended to strip me of all I hold dear and call it a mercy. The sheer audacity – I'd sooner sell myself to the fighting pits than live under this mercy.
"I'd sooner dance in hell than marry your bitch daughter. Let your husband's bastards have her. I have much more refined taste than her. As for giving up, don't even dream of that. I am Aemon Targaryen, and I do not submit. A king does not bow." Even if I had any doubts, some voice in the back of my mind was saying to submit, I won't listen to it. If this shall bring the end of my life, so be it, but I won't submit. A king doesn't submit; he never backs down, and he never surrenders. I shall die on my feet.
"You stand against 3 dragons. Aemon, surrender, and I shall forgive this transgression, and even the treason you spoke shall remain between us – a pact between two to be brothers." Leanor spoke out in a gentle yet firm tone, his small beast moving forward as if he was calling some bluff. Let me show him that I do not bluff.
"There are no pacts between dragons and men, sword-swallower," I growled as Apophis marched forward to meet his beast. We were of one mind; we shall fight to the very end with each other, his life with mine intertwined for this battle and more if we live to–no, I can't think of defeat; we will live to see how it all ends. I felt a mental tug of agreement from my companion; yes, a king does not think of defeat.
"You are no Dragon Boy," Rhaenys growled out as Meleys moved to stand between Sea Smoke and Apophis.
"How wrong you are, you old bitch. I shall show you the error of your mischaracterisation. Let it be known I'd rather die in a blaze of glory than live forever as an untold story. Let us see who lives to see the end of this battle. Let dragons dance.
Yet know this: after this battle, you shall have no funeral, no eyes, no tongue, no ears. You shall forever wander the stranger's halls blind, deaf and dumb so all the dead may know the fools who challenged Aemon Targaryen, son of Queen Alicent Hightower." I growled as Apophis ran forwards, his colossal wings kicking up dirt and debris as they spread, his giant feet digging into the dirt, kicking himself off as tornadoes gathered beneath his wings to lift him into the heavens as he took off right in front of the cowardly trio. I utter only one word: "Dracarys". An inferno of blackish-green flames rushes out of Apophis's unhinged maw, charring the earth beneath him as Sea Smoke and Meleys scurry to evade the judgment for their sin.
-The End-
next week the battle starts probably sunday chapter will be released until then bye
Also comment it keeps me motivated to write makes me feel like its a community that people do care about this .