As recorded by Maester Velynor of the Citadel, in his treatise
"The Crimson Heir: A Study of Aerion Targaryen and the Twilight of Dragons"
In the twilight years of Queen Alysanne's reign, an unexpected alliance took shape between two illustrious houses: the passionate fire of House Targaryen and the steadfast stone of House Royce. It was Alysanne, with her keen understanding of politics and family, who orchestrated the union between her grandson, Prince Daemon Targaryen, and Lady Rhea Royce, the young and resourceful Lady of Runestone. Her vision was clear—to fortify the royal ties to the Vale and temper Daemon's tempestuous spirit with a sense of duty and responsibility.
However, what Alysanne envisioned as a strong bond of alliance quickly devolved into a cauldron of bitterness and scandal. From the outset, Daemon loathed the arrangement, derisively branding his bride with cruel epithets—none more infamously than "Bronze Bitch"—and perceiving the Vale as a gilded cage rather than a sanctuary. Rhea, fiercely proud and sharp-witted, met his disdain with equal fervor, exchanging barbs that cut as deeply as any blade. There was a palpable absence of love, or even a semblance of affection, between them. In spite of this, the weight of duty loomed large, binding them in a difficult marriage.
On their wedding night, enveloped in a haze of drunkenness and resentment, Daemon begrudgingly fulfilled the obligations expected of a husband, though his heart was far from the act. By dawn's early light, he vanished from Runestone, leaving behind the echoes of unfulfilled vows and a bride abandoned in a castle filled with memories of the union that never was. He never returned to her bed again, solidifying a rift that could never be mended.
Months later, news reached King's Landing that Lady Rhea was expecting a child. Whispers began to circulate throughout both the court and the Vale, igniting curiosity and intrigue among the nobility. Could it be that a single night had yielded such profound consequences? Or had the Lady of Runestone found solace in the arms of another, casting doubt upon her fidelity? The insidious nature of these rumors grew to a point that even the Iron Throne found itself unsettled.
It was Queen Alysanne, with her regal bearing despite her waning health, who sought to put an end to the speculation. Resolute and unwavering, she made the journey to the Vale herself, driven by a fierce determination to witness the arrival of her great-grandchildren. Accompanying her were Prince Baelon, Daemon's father, and Daemon himself, who was practically pulled along by his formidable grandmother, her will as unyielding as steel. Lord Arryn, as the Warden of the East, felt compelled to join the royal party, alongside Lord Yobart Royce, Rhea's father. The two lords convened at Runestone to host the esteemed royal delegation.
What followed would ultimately quell all doubts and confirm the truth.
Lady Rhea gave birth to twin sons, each marking the beginning of a legacy. The elder, Robar Royce, arrived first, just seven minutes before his brother. He bore the unmistakable features of House Royce: lustrous brown hair, striking grey eyes, and a proud, chiseled brow that spoke of nobility. Yet, even as an infant, there was something ethereal about his beauty—his skin seemed to radiate light, and his gaze held a calmness that belied his age. Robar was a true Royce in form, yet he possessed the grace that echoed the ancient Valyrians.
However, it was the younger twin, Aerion Targaryen, who would ultimately alter the course of history and destiny itself. He entered the world with a quiet reverence, a hush that enveloped the room like a sacred prayer. His hair was a striking platinum silver, flowing and shimmering as though it were molten light caught in the sun's embrace. His eyes, a deep and captivating violet, were a rarity even among the dragonlords, leaving a profound impression on all who gazed upon him. No child born of mortal parents should have possessed such an otherworldly appearance. If Robar embodied beauty in its finest form, Aerion transcended it entirely, radiant and magnificent beyond compare.
It is said that when Daemon Targaryen first gazed upon his twin sons, a remarkable stillness washed over his once restless heart. In Robar, he perceived the promise of the Vale's future—a steadfast reflection of its noble lineage. Yet in Aerion, he glimpsed the echoes of ancient Valyria itself, a realm steeped in fire and magic. Any lingering resentment he felt towards Rhea, the mother of his children, seemed to dissolve in that singular moment, replaced by an emotion both dangerous and rare for the Rogue Prince: profound awe.
By the unyielding customs and rights of their bloodline, Robar assumed the name of Royce, his position as the heir to Runestone firmly established, with no question cast upon it. Aerion, however, though he entered the world on the same fateful day, carried the prestigious name of Targaryen—unburdened by the oaths and obligations bound to the Vale, yet chained to a legacy that was far older and destined to weave his story into the mythos of history.
Aerion Targaryen. A name first breathed with hesitant doubt, later uttered with a sense of wonder, and, inevitably, transformed with time into one spoken with palpable fear.
The world had yet to grasp the implications of that fateful day at Runestone, but it was on that very occasion that the winds of fate began to shift in unforeseen ways. And thus, the storm was only just beginning to gather strength.
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