Haven't I Given Enough? (Always The Fool) - Aemond Targaryen

16: On the Wing of a Raven

The days following Aemond's departure were spent in quiet wondering, waiting to see what the next move would be.

Harlys was not surprised that Daemon was pushing for war, but she rebuked his every attempt to start trouble in the Riverlands. Rhaenyra heeded her word, but it became clearer the longer things dragged on, the more she was inching towards relenting to Aegon, if only to avoid bloodshed.

Four days of the same routine, the same battle of wills in the strategy room, until Harlys forced herself to step away. Jacaerys and Lucerys offered to join her, and they made quiet conversation as they walked the castle's grounds.

They had made it outside and on the scout's walkway—away from eager ears, Harlys noted—when Jace stopped and turned towards her. She thought he would finally broach the topic of Aemond with her; he had been dancing around asking her what happened for her entire stay.

"Your brother, Harwin," He started then paused, clearly hesitant to give a voice to his no doubt dangerous thoughts. Surprised, Harlys only nodded, waiting for him to continue. "What was he like? I knew him, but sometimes I forget what he was like. I never thought to try and remember him. His manners. I know Luke has even less memory than I."

What a risky, risky question. If anyone had heard him asking, then they would have claim to reopen the petition that her brother sired Rhaenyra's first three sons. And with Otto controlling Aegon's strings on the Iron Throne, they would be declared as bastards, and Luke would no longer be set to inherit Driftmark.

But Harlys knew the truth, knew the desperate desire the boys no doubt felt to understand the man who helped bring them into the world.

"My brother, dear nephews," She began, meeting each of their eyes, using her marriage to their uncle as an excuse to speak the honest truth. "Was a pain in the ass on most days and the best of men at all times."

She smiled sadly as she thought of her brother, analyzing Jace and Luke's faces for details of their lineage. As she had from the moment she met them, she recognized Harwin immediately.

She held each of their faces in her hand carefully, her heart aching as she thought of the life her brother should have lived, the family he could have had. Before she let her sorrow take too tightly a hold of her, she looped one arm around Jace's and the other around Luke's, continuing their walk incase of prying eyes.

"When I was a child, my tutors despised me, you know. And I hated them just as much in return." It was hard to imagine, she knew. Ever the academic, Harlys had long since devoted herself to her studies, always afraid of what not knowing something may cost her. "I loathed my reading and writing lessons, as it meant that I must sit still for hours at a time. Mother above, I was a beast to them. I wished for nothing more than to be free and run wild in the streets of Harrenhal, learning the sword and becoming an incredible nuisance."

"What changed?" Luke asked, the faintest hints of amusement lighting his face. Harlys shared a warm smile with him, then Jace, who was listening raptly to her story. Clinging to scraps of the family he wished he could have had.

"Harwin caught word of my behavior. He sent me seven letters, one arriving each day for a week. The first six told me of wild, wondrous stories of things he had seen or heard of in the world. I loved these letters, and demanded that my tutors taught me how to read them for myself, how to write responses to my beloved brother." She could not help the smile that crossed her face then, a smile for only herself as she thought of her awful penmanship, her desire to write it all herself. Her heart ached as she recalled the tears she had shed in the days following the fire at Harrenhal when she had learned Harwin's letters had burned alongside her family. "He even wrote to me about you two, Luke having just been born."