The wrong brother

In a brothers confidence.

A Targaryen dreamer? You had never heard of the phrase before. Was he being cruel? The look on your face told him everything you were thinking.

"I do not jest sister. Our blood carries the gift of foresight. Some more potently than others. Father only experienced it once... He never went into detail with me." He ran his fingers along the pattern you started and gave it back to you.

You froze at his words. Foresight? The things you saw were horrifying!

"Aemond... the things I've seen, can they be prevented?

"If a different course of action is applied I'm sure of it. Why? What have you seen?" He turned to face you and his one eye switched between the two of yours. Your hands cupped comfortably in his own.

"Beware the pair between elder and second. The fire in the son burns hotter above than below."

Aemond tilted his head at you in confusion and you knew you would need to better translate the messages in your vision.

"It's Aegon and I. We are to be betrothed. Our first son, he.. destroys our city. Thousands of innocents will perish. You can't let us Aemond... We can't..."

Your brother's eye widened and stared distantly, lost in thought. His grip on your hands subconsciously loosened and he stood to pace to the room.

"Mother had already told me of her plans to wed you to the whore queens son Jace... Unless..." His slack jaw tightened when he gritted his teeth and his eye narrowed in realisation.

"I'm sorry sister, I must leave you now. There is a matter I must see to." He brushed a hand over your hair, kissed your forehead and left your quarters.

---

The Prince's fists clenched and swung with his fast pace as he made for his mother's quarters. Ser Erryk stood post at her doors.

"Prince Aemond? The Queen isn't here. Her grace left with urgent news, you will find her in Ser Otto Hightower's quarters."

"Hm... Thank you Ser." he descended the stairs to his grandsires chambers. Aemond threw open the unmanned doors and approached his mother. She spun to face him in shock.

"Aemond? What are you doing here?" Her voice faltered with concern.

"With father gone, what are our next steps mother?" The Prince eyed his father's valyrian steel ceremonial dagger on the table before his grandsire.

She turned her shock to her father, whose glare was fixed on the Prince.

"Your assumptions speak volumes grandson. Where did you hear of our plans?" Ser Otto stroked his beard.

The Prince thought of his sweet sister. It wasn't his place to share her gift with anyone.

"Twas but a hunch... now I know. What of Helaena, mother? You can not wed her to Jayce now that we intend to claim his mother's throne."
His narrowed eye moved to his grandfather who still appeared puzzled.

"At this stage in time, we think it best that Helaena be wed to Aegon in true Targaryen tradition."

"Helaena and I have always been closer mother. Aegon... He- he doesn't appreciate her like I do. In his blindness, he thinks her a simpleton. He can not make her happy."
His eye pleaded with his mother as he grasped at her hands and brought them closer.

"I know my love, I'm sorry. Aegon's attempts to court a lady wife have left a lot to be desired and if he is to be king he needs a queen to produce heirs. Helaena is the obvious choice."

Aemond turned to Otto.

"And your thoughts on the matter grandsire? She will not be content to wed him."

"I'm sorry to say that creating a line of succession is of the highest priority. Above even that of your sister's happiness, Aemond. She must wed Aegon."

The Prince thought back to what Helaena had said. If she was to have a son to Aegon the world would burn. He couldn't let this happen. Helaena would need to conceive another man's child before Aegon's.

The Prince turned his back to his mother and grandsire. His eye scanned the room as he searched his mind for a solution. Targaryen likeness is almost always bred out within a generation if the blood is diluted. The heirs would need to seem legitimate.

A realisation dawned on him... He must be the father. He needed to be alone with his thoughts and so, bid his mother and grandsire a goodnight.

The prince's quarters were cold, the night air blowing through the open windows. What would Helaena think of his plans? They were there closest of childhood friends... What if this proposition drove a wedge between them. In a way, she was the only real friend he ever had... He couldn't lose her.

The Prince pushed past the curtains and leaned on his balcony. A luna glow broke through the blackened clouds in all it's glory. It was likely Helaena was also sharing in its beauty in her quarters. How she adores the moon.

Aemond felt something tickle at the hairs on his arm. He stopped his palm mid air, about to swat at it. It was a Duskflame centipede, he was sure of it. Helaena had described in detail the last insect she needed to complete her collection.

"A sign from the gods." He thought to himself as he scooped it up, mustered his courage and made for his sister's chambers.