143 AC, TWELVE YEARS AFTER THE DEATH OF PRINCE AEMOND TARGARYEN AND THE END OF THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

"Have you seen Catherryn?" Alyarra Stark would ask her older brother, Cregan Stark, as she entered his study. The man would shake his head, "She is probably in the courtyard watching Rickon and Baelon train."

"That makes sense. She is adamant on training with the sword, but I fear for her safety." Alyarra huffed. "If she is as clumsy as you then I would fear for her too." Cregan would jest, giving his sister a taunting smile. "She has been berating her Septa. She wants to be wherever Baelon is," Alyarra chuckled, "It is quite adorable."

Cregan chuckled, "Reminds me of you, and of her namesake. Would always follow me around when you were a girl, wanted to do whatever I did." He said as his eyes skimmed the parchment he had been reading. Alyarra moved to sit across from him, watching as he answered ravens from the capital. "You know, lords from across the realm are still asking for your hand in marriage."

Alyarra rolled her eyes, "Do they now?" she asked, picking at her nails in an absentmindedly manner— a habit she had picked up years ago.

"Yes. I keep declining all of them, of course. I suppose you would not be fond of remarrying." Cregan asked her, his eyes lifting to meet hers in an inquiring manner. She shook her head and pressed her lips together, "Do you even have to ask me that?"

Ten years had passed over Alyarra, though the memory of her deceased husband never left her. He stayed there, living in every corner of her mind— living in every corner of the Great Keep. He never left, and Alyarra came to terms with living with his ghost. Though she never mentioned him, never once spoke about him. It was hard, living with the ghost of who she once loved plaguing her being— but she could not rid of him, no matter how hard she tried. Especially because her own son had turned into his twin.

She tried hard. The gods knew just how hard she tried to forget him. "The King Aegon has sent a raven once more asking to see Baelon." Cregan informed her as he read another parchment he had received, this one coming from the new Hand of the King, Prince Viserys Targaryen.

"How many times will we have to tell him that I do not want my son in King's Landing? That if he wants to meet him than he shall come here and visit his cousin." Alyarra stated, her voice strong willed as she looked at Cregan in sheer indignation.

"Do you not think tis time for Baelon to meet his cousins? What with the return of Prince Viserys... perhaps Baelon will benefit from being with his family." Cregan pondered, eyeing Alyarra intently and trying to gauge her reaction to his words.

"Is he not with his family here?" Alyarra snarled.

"Of course he is, but Baelon... that kid is a dragon, Alyarra. He is his father reincarnated, you know that. He is a Targaryen before he is a Stark." Her brother countered, trying to reason with her.

"Do not say that. Baelon is better, will be better than his father ever was." Alyarra contested, though she knew that Cregan spoke the truth. Baelon had grown to be a carbon copy of his father, the same eyes, the same nose, the same hair. Baelon truly was Aemond reincarnated.

"Of course he will be. It might help for him to grow close to his cousins. Aegon and Viserys are just a few years older than him. They will connect in a level that he can not with Catherryn and Rickon." Cregan stated, making Alyarra shake her head in retaliation.

"King's Landing brought for me only darkness and sadness. The throne took everything from me, Cregan. How many times do I have to remind you? How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want my son anywhere near the Crown?" Her tone was now heated and stern, as this was a recurring fight between the two Stark siblings.

Cregan thought Baelon deserved to be a part of the Targaryen Dynasty, and Alyarra thought the opposite. She thought that the dynasty would corrupt Baelon, that politics would send him spinning into madness like they had his father. She did not want her sweet child to get caught up in the same things his father had.

"He is a prince, Alyarra. Whether you like it or not. He is a part of the dynasty, of the royal family." Cregan pushed back, though before Alyarra could answer— the door to Cregan's study flew open and in ran Catherryn and Rickon, both of them wailing their arms as tears streamed down their faces.

"What's happened?" Alyarra asked as worry overtook her senses. Catherryn jumped into her mother's lap and threw her arms around her neck while Rickon did the same with Cregan. "It's Baelon!" Catherryn sobbed into her mother's chest. Alyarra looked at Cregan who appeared just as puzzled as she was.

"Has something happened to your brother?" Alyarra asked the girl, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. "He called me a bastard! T-Then he said that if he gets a dragon he will feed Rickon to it so he can be like father." Alyarra gasped, and Cregan shook his head in disbelief.

"Why did he say that, sweet girl? Where is Baelon now?" Alyarra asked her daughter, she could hardly believe her sweet boy would say such vile things. And she wondered who had told him about his father, as she never spoke to him about Aemond. "He's in the courtyard." Rickon sniffed as he hugged his own father tightly.

Cregan gave Alyarra a look of disappointment and motioned his head to the door, "Go and speak to him, he can not be saying those things."

She took a deep breath and nodded her head, lifting Catherryn off her lap and setting her down on the floor. "Stay here with your uncle Cregan. I will speak to Baelon." Alyarra told her daughter, who nodded her head and ran into her uncle's arms. Alyarra smiled weakly and left the room, walking quickly towards the courtyard to find Baelon.

She found him training with the squires, and she watched as her son flung his swords in an aggresive and unforgiving manner. For only being three and ten, Baelon was a prolific swordsman— just like his father.

Alyarra watched as Baelon bested a young squire, sending the boy toppling to the ground which made him smirk. It made Alyarra uneasy how much Baelon resembled Aemond, physically and in his mannerisms.

"Mother." Baelon smiled once his eyes landed on Alyarra, and he was quick to approach her and engulf her in a tight hug. Alyarra hugged him back and took a deep breath, "I need to speak to you." She said as sternly as she could. Baelon pulled away and frowned, "Catherryn and Rickon got to you already, I suppose." he said in a calm manner.

"You suppose? Baelon, what you said was terrible. You called your sister a bastard, told your cousin you would feed him to a dragon..." Alyarra muttered, her eyes strained on her son who rolled his eyes slightly then pressed his lips together. "My sister is a bastard." He shrugged, "And don't you think you should ask Rickon what he said to me?" he mumbled the last part.

Alyarra sighed, "Come, let us go inside so we can talk better." She said, gently guiding Baelon inside the Great Keep. He followed his mother down a corridor and into the library where they could talk in peace. "Now," Alyarra turned to him with a raised brow, "What could your cousin and sister possibly say that would make you say those vile things to them?"

"Catherryn keeps talking about my father, she says he was a kinslayer, that he was a bad man. And Rickon... Rickon is a twat." Baelon chuckled at his own little jab at his cousin. Alyarra took a deep breath, she had no idea where her children were hearing about Aemond from. She had tried her hardest to keep them from the truth of it all.

"He is your cousin, not a twat. You two are family, you can not threaten to kill your family." Alyarra scolded Baelon, who rolled his eyes. "Do not roll your eyes at me, Baelon. What has gotten into you as of late?"

"My so called cousin keeps saying that I am heir to nothing. Why should I respect him if he won't me?" Baelon countered. Alyarra gulped at the revelation. Of course there was more to this squabble than what Catherryn and Rickon admitted.

"You both deserve respect, and you saying that you will feed him to a dragon is very grave, Baelon. You can not say that, tis wrong." Alyarra scolded him, though Baelon was clearly not having it at all.

"My father defended himself against everyone who wronged him. He was strong willed and brave. I want to be just like my father." Alyarra felt like she had just been punched in the gut by what Baelon had said.

He wanted to be just like Aemond.

Just like Aemond.

Her sweet boy wanted to be like his father.

"Baelon..." Alyarra reached her hand up to cup his cheek, "I do not know who is speaking to you about your father... but he... he was not a good person. You have to understand that."

In response to this, Baelon moved away from his mother. "My father was a hero. He fought until his last breath for his cause." He contested with much conviction.

"There are many things you do not know..." Alyarra told Baelon, who responded with a disdainful snarl.

"Because you won't tell me! Why won't you speak to me about my father?! About my family? I am tired of having to beg the maester for scraps about my father, about my uncles! I want what I deserve, mother!" Baelon shot in a rageful manner, it was quick and easy as if the words had always been there— just waiting to be spewed.

Alyarra swallowed hard, her eyes soft on her thirteen year old son. There was so much he didn't know, things she wished to protect him from. "What is it that you think you deserve, Baelon?" She asked him softly.

"I deserve to be in King's Landing! I should have been King! I've read many scrolls about the war! Many lords around the realm thought that I should have been the King, not Aegon! Me!" Baelon stated, making his mother's heart break ever further. This was quite literally her worst fear for the last twelve years.

"Baelon... calm down. The war was hard, the war was unforgiving. You are not King and it's better this way, trust me." Alyarra told her child, trying to remain as calm as she possibly could.

"Better this way? Better to be heir to nothing? Are you serious, mother?! I could have been the King of Westeros! I could have had a dynasty, and instead I am nothing." Alyarra could hardly believe what her child was saying. Where did he get all of these crazy ideas?

"Where is this coming from, Baelon? Who is putting these ideas in your head? I do not understand. This is unlike you." Alyarra whispered, her voice wavering as she stared at her son.

He looked so much like Aemond in every way, in the way he spoke— in the way he thought. In every which way.

It sent chills down her spine. "I just want to be like my father. I want to be a true Targaryen, mother. I want what I deserve." Baelon stated, his tone becoming more calm as he spoke.

"Your father is not someone you should idolize, Baelon. You shouldn't want to be like him. He was not a good man. He did many things, Baelon. Many bad things." To this Baelon let out a desperate breath, shaking his head at his mother.

"What things?! You keep saying that yet you never tell me anything! I want to know about my father! I deserve to know!" He urged, taking his mother's hands in his. "Please mother."

Alyarra took a deep breath, her gaze shifting away from her son and then back to him just as quickly.  She bit her lip, her eyes full of uncertainty— but ultimately she nodded.

"Alright. I will tell you all about your father."