001 - The One-Day Heir
After Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives, Queens Visenya and Rhaenys, brought six of the Seven Kingdoms beneath Targaryen rule, Westeros began counting its years from his coronation: 1 AC, the first year After the Conquest.
111 AC. King's Landing.
On an early summer morning, a secluded garden lay hidden along the eastern wall of the Red Keep, close to the shoreline.
"White hart, soiled handkerchief, a bear in the sea..."
A six-year-old boy sat beneath the thick trunk of a weirwood, muttering to himself in a bored whisper.
He had silver-gold hair, violet eyes, and the unmistakable look of Valyrian blood.
"Another nightmare," he murmured. "They never end."
His name was Aelor Targaryen, and the blood of the dragon ran true in him.
His father was Viserys I Targaryen, the fifth Targaryen king to sit the Iron Throne.
"Prince Aelor, your nameday celebration is about to begin. The queen has sent for you."
A young maid approached and spoke gently to the little prince.
When the boy raised his head, his face was thin and nearly paper-white, his large violet eyes ringed with exhaustion.
He looked at the maid and said quietly, "I told you. I do not like nameday celebrations."
The maid clasped her hands and forced a smile. "Forgive me, my prince, but the queen has sent for you."
"I understand. I will go."
Aelor nodded. Rather than make things harder for a servant caught in the middle, he rose and followed her into the Red Keep.
He was King Viserys's first son.
His mother was the late Queen Aemma Arryn, who had died in childbirth.
His nameday was also the anniversary of his mother's death.
'So of course Queen Alicent Hightower made certain it was celebrated every single year.'
Inside, the Red Keep was vast, grand, and solemn in equal measure.
When they reached a room on one of the higher levels, a child's cries carried through the open door.
He dismissed the maid with a small gesture and stopped at the threshold.
Inside, a richly dressed young woman held a squirming, sobbing little boy in her arms. At her feet, a little girl stared at the cake with obvious longing.
The moment Alicent caught sight of Aelor in the doorway, she turned at once and said apologetically, "Aegon has had his eye on your cake. If you had taken any longer, I might not have been able to hold him back."
The prince walked into the room. "It does not matter. If he wants it, let him have it. How much can he eat?"
"You truly do act like an older brother, Aelor."
Alicent passed Aegon to a nearby attendant, then took Aelor by the hand and led him to sit beside the low table.
"Your father has matters of state to handle, and Rhaenyra has run off somewhere again. This year, it falls to me to celebrate with you."
"Make a wish first, then blow out the candles."
Aelor said nothing.
He clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and made a silent wish before blowing out the nameday candles.
His frailty had shaped him into a quiet child, reserved and sparing with his words.
The birth had been brutal. The maesters had cut Aemma open to bring him into the world, and even then, he had arrived frail.
Before the age of three, he had cried only once: the moment he was born.
The rest of that time, he had lain in a stupor, kept alive on milk from wet nurses.
The Grand Maester had once believed he would not survive a second day.
That was how he gained the name people whispered behind his back: the one-day heir.
Against every expectation, he survived.
When he was three, a foreign witch's treatment finally drew him out of his long stupor.
His body, however, remained weak.
But there had been another side effect.
Nightmares.
Again and again, strange and broken fragments surfaced in his sleep.
Dragons. Fire. War.
All of them terrifying.
He often woke in terror, and each nightmare only taxed a body that had never had strength to spare.
"I want it! Give it to me!"
Aegon's voice cut through the room.
Aelor looked up instinctively.
Splat.
A small, chubby hand plunged into the cake. The next wild swing sent crumbs flying.
A smear of cream struck Aelor squarely in the face.
"Gods! Watch Aegon!"
Alicent snapped at the careless attendants, drew out a handkerchief, and began wiping Aelor's face.
"I am truly sorry," she said. "Aegon is terribly mischievous. If the cake is ruined for you, I can have the kitchens prepare another."
He let the queen tend to him and replied calmly, "It is fine. If my little brother likes it, we can share."
Alicent looked at Aelor's composed expression, then at Aegon happily devouring the cake.
For one brief instant, her smile nearly cracked.
Mercifully, another voice broke through the strained silence.
"Your Grace, the king is discussing the arrangements for the hunt and has sent for you."
A stern-faced knight of the Kingsguard stood in the doorway, silver armor beneath his white cloak.
"Very well. I will go."
Alicent glanced apologetically at Aelor and said softly, "Your father has summoned me. I must go at once. If there is any gift you want, you may tell me now."
"Nothing."
Aelor answered at once.
Then, as if something had occurred to him, he added, "If I must choose one, I would like to take less medicine. The medicine is bitter."
The queen forced a smile. "That is something you will have to ask your father."
On her way out, she reminded the attendants to watch the princes and the princess and keep them from eating too much. Then she followed the white-cloaked knight into the hall.
The moment Alicent stepped out, the little princess, who had been sitting to one side and picking crumbs of cake from the floor, turned her head toward the window.
Without warning, she said, "Do not disturb the sleeping beast."
Aelor gave her a puzzled look.
The little princess was Helaena, Queen Alicent's daughter. She was two.
He had not spent much time with her.
According to whispers among the servants, Helaena was not quite like other children.
She was always lost in her own world.
Every now and then, she would blurt out some odd, dreamlike nonsense.
It seemed the servants had not been wrong.
Once the queen was out of earshot, Aelor looked over at Aegon, who was still gorging himself on cake.
"Do you like it that much?"
He walked to Aegon's side and asked him gently.
Aegon did not even look up. He scooped up a fistful of cake, dropped it into Helaena's palm, and went on eating.
A faint smile tugged at Aelor's mouth. "You remembered to share after all. What a fine older brother. That deserves a reward."
"What?"
Only then did Aegon look at him, his eyes bright with guileless confusion.
"If you love it so much, eat more. You may have all of it."
Aelor placed a hand on the back of Aegon's head and shoved his face down into the cake.
Aegon's face struck the cake with a wet splat. The attendants cried out.
Helaena watched with curiosity, licking cream from her fingers.
After releasing Aegon, he walked over and rested a hand on Helaena's head.
"Prince Aelor, please do not. The queen will be angry."
The attendants were horrified. While one hurried to wipe the mess from Aegon, another begged him to leave the little princess alone.
He ignored her and only ruffled Helaena's hair.
"If you want something, take it yourself. Do not pick it off the floor, and do not settle for scraps someone else leaves you."
"Brother!" Helaena giggled.
She did not understand, but she clapped at the sight of Aegon, who was smeared with cream from hair to chin.
"Silly girl."
Aelor wiped the cream from his hand, stepped around Aegon as the boy finally began to wail, and left the room.
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