paradox - part II

Prologue

All I could think while flying back to the Red Keep was that my brother just died. I see Aemond flying ahead of me on Vhagar - stoic and silent, as if he didn't just kill a mere boy. I would find fault with Lucerys for antagonising Aemond into it, but I know in my heart of hearts that it didn't just start with Storm's End. 

The pig. 

I remember the pig. The Pink Dread, Aegon called it. It was meant to be a jest, but I remember then that Aemond didn't have Vhagar, and that it hurt him deeply. No. Because he claimed Vhagar at Laena's funeral. I hardly knew Laena Velaryon then. But the pig was mostly Aegon's fault. He just roped my brothers into it. 

Harwin. Harwin Strong. 

I remember my father too. Muscular and tall, but gentle and fair. The ugly rumours that had spread because of mine and my brothers' unlikely births forced my mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, to leave for Dragonstone, taking her late husband, Laenor Velaryon, and my brothers with her, leaving me in Alicent's care. I still don't know why she did that. I might have never married Aemond if that was the case, and I'd probably be on the other side of the war. Perhaps. 

The dinner. The pig - again. 

The last night most of us in that room saw the ageing, rotting Viserys Targaryen alive and well - for the most part. The roast pig on the dinner table... Lucerys' smirk, Aemond's angry stare, Aegon's confused look... I forgot who was wearing what expressions. 

Then the toast from Aemond. I wasn't married to him yet, but I think I wanted to be. We'd been working out the details of my betrothal and subsequent marriage to Tyland Lannister for months. Except for the fact that he wanted to take what was his early, and that resulted in Aemond being married to me in a very rushed ceremony that I'm sure was hardly under the light of the Seven. 

I hear Silverwing roar, and Aemond and I fly through the clouds, seeing King's Landing ahead of us. I look down for half a second, touching my stomach. I can't tell him. Besides, it's too early to tell. It happened not too long ago, and at first, I thought I was dying of some unknown plague until the maester confirmed I had conceived. I still haven't told Alicent yet. I could confide in Helaena - I suppose she's good at keeping secrets. 

All I know now - is that the first blow was struck at Storm's End - and it has now heralded the beginning of the end. Whether it is the end of the Targaryen bloodline as I know it, or any other outcome... the hand of death has been dealt, and we must now pay its horrible toll.