(POV: Gaemon)
It was a strange day when I had been reborn. The gods had cursed me. Forced me to live in hell after I had been granted access to heaven. Taken my comfort, and my luxuries from me before he spewed me into a pit of fiery damnation. What was the point of caring when everything would crumble to dust here?
What was the point of living when I was nothing but fiction? I asked myself. I searched for meaning in tomes in the Red Keep's library. I found none. I searched for meaning in the blade, becoming a squire to Ser Lorence Roxton of the Kingsguard. I defeated other boys in the yard, yet still there was no meaning in my life.
My parents were not around to give me the love or affection I needed. My mother was too caught up with her daughters, my father was too busy with his realm. I had none to give me the motivation I desired besides myself. So I turned my motivation into a dream. I knew what the future would bring though I was no dragon dreamer.
I dreamt of books, a Clash of Kings, a Storm of Swords, and more. Each telling me of the fate befalling my House. Usurped and defeated by Stags. The thought of it was amusing. I would have loved to see it. Sadly, I was born far too early to do so. I was seven years old when my mother gave birth to a daughter.
I cared not for my other sister, Saera was too reckless, too arrogant for her own good. She saw beyond her station. I did not care much for Viserra, no matter how much she followed behind me, begging for the scraps of my attention, I knew one day she would die, just like the rest of this accursed family. I would not change what was the future, it had already changed with me. Instead, I would mould the future to my will.
I will not become a simple note upon history. I will be remembered as a king, as the true king. I will trample over Rhaenys and Viserys, over Baelon and Aemon's lines. For in truth, it was Gaemon the Glorious whose line which House Targaryen came from, and it will be my line to continue it.
For such a plan I needed to gather my own allies, thus I planned and plotted. I needed my own fellows, who were loyal to me. Thus, I befriended boys in the yard. Boys from Houses, sons sent to become wards of the crown, either to curry favour with the king or to befriend the next heir. It was there that I hatched the first part of my grand plans. I intended to befriend the future Lord of Casterly Rock, Lord Tymond Lannister.
Now I know of his weakness to drink, but he was also twenty years old while I was only seven name-days old. Thus, I needed a plan, a way to get into his good graces. So I set upon doing so, the only way I could, by charming those below him. I charmed the future Lord Reyne, his cousin the heir to Tarbeck Hall, and various other Westerland Lord's heirs and second sons. My father did not care enough to comment or perhaps saw it as me strengthening our house.
With boys of my own age, my time in the Red Keep became less lonely. I had companions, to drink with, to jape with and to celebrate it. Still, that is only for now. I have so much more to plot and plan, such as today. I woke up early in the morning and relieved myself into my chamber pot before bathing myself and having a servant dress me.
I would take what luxuries I could from this wretched worthless world. After that I made my way to the great hall, greeting my family. I dressed in the colours of House Targaryen, red and black as I dug into my meal of honeyed porridge with watered-down wine. I drank deeply, spoke little, and left as soon as I was finished. My family sickened me. Aemon sickened me, he was just a walking corpse. I could not wait until he joined the rest of my family in the Seven Hells. His daughter, Rhaenys, disgusted me just as much. She would be a threat to my claim to the Iron Throne. She may not be married to the Velaryons yet but I would die before I allowed a seahorse's spawn to be the King upon the Iron Throne
If I had the chance, she would take an unfortunate tumble off a balcony or something. Sadly, she was only 3 years old and more prone to yelling gibberish than anything else. I avoided her, just like I avoided the rest of my family. In fact, out of my whole family, I only liked one of them truly and that was Vaegon.
He was no threat to my claim, bookish and well-versed in debating. So what of his rudeness? He was one of the few of my siblings I could have a conversation about books about. I wasn't quite as strongly built as some of my family, though I made up for it with my speed.
Still, my claim needed to be strengthened further. I would have to do that without betrothing myself to another Great Lord for an alliance. That would give them a chance to claim a dragon down the line. I could not allow that. Viserys had made a mistake allowing the Velaryons access to dragons. Though if I was lucky, he'd never sit the Iron Throne to make such a mistake.
But that didn't matter, I could not be distracted from my main goal, in order to make my claim to the Iron Throne stronger, I needed to ride a dragon of my own. Many of the strong ones were sadly claimed already, and I had no interest in Balerion, his size was intimidating but he was dying and while I would prefer to help him, I wasn't trained in medicine, I had no clue on the physiology of a dragon. Dreamfyre was a mighty beast but I disliked that all of her riders never took her to war and that might be a bad omen for my cause.
But that was for later, I was a child still, barely old enough to be a squire. Thus, I continued training, studying, being a perfect princeling in front of all. I waited patiently for my chance to strike, until I could wait no longer on the 83rd year after Aegon's Conquest. More specifically, on Rhaenys's 7th nameday, a special day for she was born upon the 7th day of the 7th moon. It was a special occasion on Dragonstone, a display of the wealth of House Targaryen as a tourney was hosted. This was not just a celebration for Rhaenys though but one for how our family had handled the 4th Dornish War, crushing them without losing a single man. I longed to participate but I had no dragon to burn them with, nor was I a knight yet so I did not even bother.
I was seated in the royal box with my family, Vaegon having claimed the seat next to me. While he watched the knights clash through disinterested eyes, I was far more interested. Martial strength was important in Westeros and in order to win legitimacy in front of many lords, I would have to prove myself to be a capable warrior. I watched with rapt attention, enjoying the skill displayed by the knights.
Then I waited until darkness had begun setting in, laying in my chambers. When I was reasonably sure that I wouldn't be caught, I left my room, clutching the dragon egg that had been placed in my cradle. It was beautiful, a shade of green that looked like emeralds, though it was not the egg that I cared about, rather what was inside it intrigued me far more.
I made my way through the halls of Dragonstone, avoiding the various lords and servants before making my way outside. There I began the trek to the Dragonmont, taking care to avoid being seen. I carried a dagger on my belt, a shortsword held in a scabbard at my side. I wore a set of robes, beneath which I wore mail and a surcoat with House Targaryen's sigil emblazoned on it.
Then, clutching the egg in my hands, I began to walk through the rocky paths on the Dragonmont, looking for a specific set of markings to illuminate me on whether I was on the right path or not. I don't know how long I walked for, it might have been hours or mere minutes but I found the hatcheries on Dragonmont, where young dragons and eggs lay.
From there, I began to follow the various paths dotted around, taking care to watch my step. I might not be as affected by heat but I would not survive being burnt alive. Eventually, I found what I was looking for, a set of bones, darker than most animals. Dragon bones. I clutched my egg tighter, walking into the lair of an ancient and mad beast.
I would walk out with a dragon, or I would never return. I took shaky steps further into the lair of the Cannibal, worrying that I would be burnt alive, before I even had the chance to give it my offering. But my fears were unfounded, for in front of me, I saw the Cannibal, black as coal, with menacing green eyes.
It turned to me, madness present in its eyes, a snarl building in its throat. Before it could roar, I placed the dragon egg in front of it, speaking not in Valyrian as many other dragon riders did, but in the common tongue. "I am Gaemon Targaryen, last of the Valyrian Dragonlords. I bring you an egg, one that may have hatched into my mount and ask that you take its place instead. In exchange I shall grant you the blood you desire, you shall not want for dragonflesh. I promise you that Cannibal. Become my mount and let us soar to victory together or burn me."
I took a few steps back, my heart thrumming rapidly, my instincts begging me to run, telling me that this was not worth it. Yet I watched with bated breath as the Cannibal moved forward, opening its jaw and taking the egg, chewing on it as it eyed me up. I felt something irreversibly break in me, telling me that with the choice I had made, I would not be allowed to change my path. Yet I cared not. I didn't care that I had twisted the bonds between a dragon and a rider.
For I stepped forward, confidence in my veins, liquid adrenaline as I put my palm against the Cannibal's scales, feeling the heat thrumming beneath them. Fire made flesh indeed. "Cannibal. You need no fancy title. Your name is what you are. You are the Cannibal, mount of Gaemon Targaryen. You will help me take the Iron Throne."
With that, I grasped onto a horn on the side of its body, pulling myself up and gripping onto another horn on its back. "We go back to Dragonstone. Even if my father and mother don't know I'm gone, this will give the lords a spectacle." I don't understand how, yet the Cannibal grunted, making its way out of the lair, beating its wings and beginning to fly.
It was a wonderful experience, somehow the two of us were intrinsically connected. I did not need to speak, to order him when the Cannibal could tell where to go on its own. It moved more like an extension of a limb than anything, two minds functioning together, thinking as one. Even as we circled over Dragonstone, the Cannibal roared loudly to mark its entrance before swooping down landing on top of one of the towers.
I did not even need to get a sentence out before the Cannibal made its way off the tower, landing down in a field nearby while I noticed my family, or what looked like them for I didn't know many Valyrian lords, began immediately making their way towards me. I tugged off the robe I had been wearing, throwing it to the floor and pushed myself off the Cannibal, landing with a thud and falling on my face.
I pushed myself up from the ground and waited patiently for them, greeting my parents warmly when they stopped in front of the Cannibal. "Mother, Father. I have joyous news for you. I have claimed a mighty dragon for myself." They both appeared a little shocked I assume. I wasn't around them enough to tell their emotions based on their little twitches and what not.
My mother, bless her heart, immediately embraced me in her arms, uncaring of the giant cannibal dragon next to me. "Gaemon, you stupid, brave child! Why would you go and do such a thing?" Jaehaerys was a little more cautious, after all, no man wants to get eaten by a dragon. "Why indeed? If you had need of a mount, Dreamfyre or one of the hatchlings in the Dragonpit would have more than sufficed. What madness convinced you to go and claim the Cannibal?"
I just shrugged. "I desired a mount that suited me, father. It was simply luck that I found the Cannibal." Jaehaerys did not seem pleased at that response. "I would not call it luck that made you encounter the Cannibal." My mother seemed close to bawling her eyes out, so I awkwardly patted her on the back. While Jaehaerys glared at me, "And pray tell, do you mean to explain why you decided to sneak out to claim a dragon? You could have at least waited until you were of age." Oooh, he's got me there.
Luckily, I've got something prepared in advance. I quivered my lip and moistened my eyes, "It's just… I felt terrible about myself, hearing of you, Aemon and Baelon crushing the Dornish. I wanted to be a part of that, to make you proud, father. I thought that doing this would show boldness and earn respect in your eyes. I didn't… I didn't mean to make you hurt. I.. apologise."
Jaehaerys's eyes softened at that, after all what man doesn't want his son to make him proud. "I understand that Gaemon. Yet, such an action was foolish. Your mother and I would have been disturbed to hear that you had perished trying to do this. I… we will discuss a fitting punishment for such actions for you later." My mother finally released me and to my surprise Jaehaerys put his hand on my shoulder.
"Still, that was a very brave thing to do. Though if you have such brilliant ideas again, I may clout you in the ear so hard you will be unable to tell left from right. Or mayhaps I will have you shovel dragon dung." He muttered and I nodded looking all properly chastised and all that. But, why would I be afraid of shovelling some dragon shit? I wasn't scared of manual labour.
Even as I accompanied my family back to the castle, with the Cannibal following behind us. When I saw the rest of my family, I knew I had shown them my superiority. I was more confident in my stature, after all, who'd be afraid when you had a giant dragon who could burn people to pieces. Of course, I was still just a man, so I would need to wait patiently for my plans to come to fruition.
…
…
…
On the 9th day of the 5th Moon 88 AC, Prince Gaemon Targaryen participated in a tourney hosted by Lord Butterwell as a mystery knight. He clashed against various esteemed knights before earning victory, being knighted by his elder brother, Prince Aemon with Dark Sister.
It was a few moons after that, that Prince Gaemon and Princess Viserra Targaryen were betrothed to one another, eventually marrying in 89 AC with a lavish wedding. It was claimed that the two were madly in love and Gaemon adopted a sigil of his own, a black dragon upon a green field. It is said that his wife embroidered a favour with the colours of his dragon upon it, and Prince Gaemon took that as his personal sigil. Princess Saera claimed a young dragon in 95 AC, naming her azure and cream mount, Stormfyre.
The two had a fruitful marriage, with 2 twin sons being born to them in 92 AC, a few moons before Prince Aemon's death. His brothers, Baelon and Gaemon immediately responded by burning the Myrish pirates until none remained. To the surprise of many, King Jaehaerys named Prince Baelon heir instead, circumventing Princess Rhaenys who had been married to Lord Corlys Velaryon, one of the richest lords in the realm. Lord Corlys was outraged and resigned from his post on the small council and his post as lord admiral.
Prince Gaemon took over the position instead and began amassing wealth. In a matter of years, he had begun to raid pirates and smugglers, taking their loot. He kept a large portion of this gold for himself, paying some of it to the Crown. He then used this gold to incentivize the Ironborn, promising them aid in their raiding endeavours so long as they did not attack Westerosi lands.
This ended up a fruitful partnership, with Prince Gaemon becoming well-liked in the Iron Islands. Under his guidance, the Ironborn grew wealthier, attacking ships bearing slaves and other goods from various Free Cities. While Prince Gaemon took a majority of the wealth, he left enough for the Ironborn to be satisfied. Unfortunately, in 100 AC, Queen Alysanne died, a year after the tragic death of Princess Gael.
Sadly, tragedy struck House Targaryen again, slaying Prince Baelon by a burst belly in 101 AC. That caused the succession of House Targaryen to come into question. Before King Jaehaerys could put an answer to this issue, mayhaps by calling for a council to decide his heir, he fell sick rapidly, wasting away in a matter of days. He was cared for during this period of sickness by Princess Viserra and on the day before his death, she brought her two sons, Daeron and Baelor to see him. The next day, he was discovered to have died in his sleep.
Prince Gaemon claimed to have visited his father a few days before he had died, and sent out letters to all the lords in the realm naming himself King Gaemon Targaryen, first of his name. However, Prince Viserys's cause was championed by Prince Daemon, who named him king instead, contesting Gaemon's rule. Gaemon had little chance against both Balerion and Caraxes so he abandoned King's Landing, though not before taking Aegon the Conqueror's crown and Blackfyre with him alongside many saddlebags filled with gold and silver before setting off on the Cannibal.
His wife, Viserra followed him on her own dragon, Stormfyre and the two flew to Casterly Rock, where House Lannister and House Greyjoy alongside all their vassals immediately swore loyalty to his cause, declaring him the one true king. Other Houses that declared for him were House Peake, Roxton, Hightower, Florent, and Celtigar. Another surprise is that Prince Vaegon, Archmaester of the Citadel has been named the Grand Maester of King Gaemon. Apparently, the King took his brother with him upon the Cannibal to Casterly Rock.
In the North, House Stark and House Baratheon declared for Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, alongside House Blackwood, Darry, Vance, Tarly, Costayne, Fossoway, Velaryon and many others. She named her son, Prince Laenor as her heir and took Dragonstone in a matter of days.
House Arryn and the Vale declared for King Viserys due to the marriage between him and Queen Aemma Arryn alongside the loyalty of most of the crownlands. Other lords that swore for him were House Tully, House Tyrell, House Strong, House Redwyne, House Rowan, House Bracken, and House Mallister. The Reach and the Riverlands immediately fractured into various warring lords.
All that is left is to hope that such war does not batter the realm too badly, scorching away all of King Jaehaerys's hard work. In Essos, bastards stir, seeking glory and riches while the Triarchy have begun amassing an army by hiring thousands of sellswords and sellsails. As of yet, it is uncertain what they plot, yet dark omens hang in the skies.
-Writings of Maester Quenton