In the year 299 AC, the throne room of the Red Keep brimmed with anticipation, its cavernous expanse lit by torches and sunlight streaming through high windows. The Iron Throne loomed at the far end, its jagged blades a testament to Targaryen conquests past. Lords and knights of the North and Riverlands filled the hall, their banners of direwolf and fish mingling with the sun-and-spear of Dorne. Eddard Stark stood solemnly at the steps of the throne, a simple iron crown in his hands, his grey eyes fixed on the doors. The air was thick with the weight of history, as Westeros awaited its new king.
The herald's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "King Aemon Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, Lord of Ice and Fire! Accompanied by King Domonic Augustus of Uruk, Queen Daenerys Targaryen of Uruk, Queen Missandei Augustus of Uruk, and Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard!"
The great doors swung open, and Aemon Targaryen entered, his black cloak flowing, his face resolute. Behind him walked Domonic Augustus, clad in a Golden tunic, his presence radiating power. Daenerys Targaryen, her silver hair gleaming, moved with regal grace, her black-and-red gown a nod to her house. Missandei, in emerald silks, carried herself with quiet strength, her eyes bright with pride. Barristan Selmy, in a white cloak, strode with the dignity of a knight reborn. Ghost, the direwolf, padded at Aemon's side, his red eyes scanning the crowd.
The room erupted in cheers, northern lords pounding their fists, river lords raising swords. Greatjon Umber's voice boomed, "The dragonwolf!" Oberyn Martell, leaning against a pillar, grinned, his spear glinting. "A fine entrance, Your Grace!" Edmure Tully, beside Robb Stark, clapped, his face alight. "Seven hells, it's real!"
Domonic, Daenerys, and Missandei moved to the side, joining the lords, while Aemon approached the throne. Barristan took his place near the steps, his hand on his sword. Aemon reached Eddard, knelt, and bowed his head. The hall fell silent, every eye on the moment. Eddard, his voice steady, spoke, "Aemon Targaryen, do you swear to rule justly, to protect the realm, and to uphold its laws?"
"I swear it," Aemon replied, his voice ringing with conviction.
Eddard placed the iron crown on Aemon's head, its weight settling like a mantle. "Rise, King Aemon, Third of His Name." The room exploded in cheers, lords and knights shouting, "King Aemon! Long may he reign!" Robb Stark's grin was fierce. "That's my brother!" Oberyn whistled, "A crown suits you, dragonwolf!" Greatjon roared, "To the king!"
Aemon rose, turned, and ascended the Iron Throne, his cloak pooling around him. He sat, the blades framing his figure, and raised a hand for silence. "My lords, my knights, my people," he began, his voice carrying, "I stand here because of your swords, your courage, and your faith. The North, the Riverlands, and Dorne bled for this day. I thank you, and I vow to rule with justice."
The lords cheered, their voices a tide. Aemon's gaze found Eddard. "Lord Stark, for your aid in my ascent, the New Gift is returned to the North's dominion, to strengthen your lands."
The northern lords roared, fists raised. Greatjon bellowed, "The North remembers!" Rickard Karstark nodded, his voice gruff. "A king who honors us! To Aemon!"
Aemon turned to the river lords. "Lord Tully, your lands bore the Lannisters' wrath. The smallfolk suffered most. For three years, the Riverlands are exempt from taxes, to rebuild and heal."
Edmure's face lit with relief, his voice thick. "Your Grace, the Riverlands thank you!" Lord Blackwood clapped, shouting, "A king for the people!" Lord Mallister, added, "Justice for the rivers!"
Aemon's eyes met Oberyn's. "Prince Oberyn, for Dorne's spears, Nightsong, Whitegrove, and Harvest Hall are now under your dominion, to strengthen House Martell."
Oberyn's grin was sharp, his bow theatrical. "You honor Elia's memory, Your Grace. Dorne's yours!" His men cheered, spears clashing. "For the sun and spear!" a Dornish knight shouted.
Aemon's voice hardened. "Bring the prisoners."
Guards marched in, dragging the highborn captives in chains: Tywin, Cersei, Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella, Mace Tyrell, Olenna, Margaery, Alerie, Loras, Garlan, Petyr Baelish, Varys, Pycelle, Randyll Tarly, and Dickon Tarly. Joffrey, his face pale, screamed, "I'm the king! You can't touch me!" A guard's fist silenced him, his head snapping back. The room murmured, Oberyn chuckling, "The little lion's lost his roar."
Jaime Lannister was brought forth, his golden hair dulled, his hands bound. Aemon's gaze was cold. "Ser Jaime, your oath-breaking sparked this war. You slept with your sister and betrayed your king."
Jaime's smirk was defiant. "I deny it."
Aemon nodded to Barristan, who bound Jaime's wrist with the Lasso of Truth. "Who fathered Cersei's children?" Aemon asked.
Jaime's jaw clenched, but the lasso compelled him. "Me."
Aemon's voice was steel. "Did you throw Bran Stark from the tower because he saw you with Cersei? Yes or no."
"Yes," Jaime said, his voice hollow.
The room gasped, northern lords growling. Greatjon roared, "Bastard!" Robb's face darkened, his voice low. "For Bran…" Aemon declared, "For treason and attempted murder, you die." Jaime was forced to the block, and Aemon descended the throne, drawing his sword. With a single stroke, Jaime's head rolled, blood pooling on the stone.
Cersei, dragged forth, spat, "You're a monster!" Barristan bound her with the lasso. Aemon asked, "Did you kill King Robert Baratheon?"
Cersei struggled, her face twisting, but confessed, "Yes."
"Did you bed Jaime and Lancel Lannister, birthing bastards passed as heirs?" Aemon pressed.
"Yes," she hissed, tears falling. The room murmured, Edmure muttering, "Gods, the rot…" Aemon declared, "For regicide, incest, and treason, you die." Cersei's screams echoed as Aemon's sword took her head, her golden hair stained red.
Joffrey, trembling, was next, the lasso on his wrist. "What crimes have you committed?" Aemon asked.
Joffrey's voice cracked, the lasso forcing truth. "I… killed maids, tortured servants, humiliated Sansa Stark, ordered Ned Stark and Arya Stark's death…"
The room erupted, lords shouting. Robb growled, "For Sansa!" Greatjon bellowed, "Vile whelp!" Aemon's voice silenced them. "For cruelty and murder, you die." Joffrey whimpered as Aemon's sword ended him, his body crumpling.
Tywin Lannister, his face a mask of surrender, watched his legacy crumble. Brought forth, he spoke, his voice steady. "I did what I did for my house. I'd do it again."
Aemon nodded, his tone grim. "But there are other crimes." Barristan bound Tywin's wrist with the lasso. "Did you order Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch to kill Princess Elia Martell and her children?"
Tywin's eyes widened, struggling, but the lasso compelled him. "Yes."
Oberyn surged forward, his voice a snarl. "You bastard! Elia's blood cries for you!" The room stilled, Dornish knights growling. Aemon declared, "For murder and treason, you die." He turned to Oberyn. "Prince Oberyn, the honor is yours."
Oberyn's spear flashed, his voice ecstatic. "For Elia!" Tywin's head fell, his body slumping. Oberyn spat, "Justice done!"
Tyrion Lannister, next, spoke calmly. "I fought for my family, Your Grace. My crimes were of war, not treachery."
Aemon nodded. "Lord Tyrion, I name you Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. Tommen Hill and Myrcella Hill are legitimized as Lannisters, with Tommen your heir until you have children. But beware—treachery, and Casterly Rock vanishes from the maps."
Tyrion bowed, his voice dry. "A fair bargain, Your Grace." Tommen and Myrcella, wide-eyed, joined the lords, Tyrion guiding them.
Mace Tyrell, blubbering, was brought forth. Aemon's voice was cold. "House Tyrell has leapt from king to king, pledging false loyalties. You, Lord Mace, are sentenced to the Wall. The Reach will be divided into two kingdoms, your house reduced to a lordly status. The new Lord Paramounts will be named later."
Mace's face crumpled, Olenna's eyes narrowing. Margaery whispered, "Grandmother…" Loras growled, "This is madness!" Aemon's gaze silenced them.
Randyll Tarly, stern-faced, said, "I followed my liege, Your Grace."
Aemon nodded. "I agree, but crimes demand punishment. You join the Wall, but House Tarly becomes Lord Paramount of one Reach kingdom. Dickon Tarly will wed an ally's daughter. The other kingdom remains under the Iron Throne until a Lord Paramount is chosen."
Randyll bowed, his voice steady. "I accept, Your Grace." Dickon, pale, nodded.
Petyr Baelish, smirking, was bound with the lasso. Aemon asked, "Confess your crimes in this war."
Baelish struggled, his face contorting, but the lasso forced truth. "I…ordered Lyssa Arryn to poison Jon Arryn, betrayed Eddard Stark, sent an assassin for Bran Stark, incited war between Lannisters and Starks…"
The room exploded. Eddard's voice was cold, his hand moving toward his sword, ice which he reclaimed after taking control of the Red Keep. "You snake!" Robb shouted, "For Father!" Greatjon roared, "Treacherous cur!" Oberyn spat, "His blood's too foul for my spear!" Aemon declared, "For murder and treason, you die." His sword flashed, and Baelish's head rolled, his smirk gone.
Varys, calm, was next, the lasso on his wrist. Aemon asked, "Where does your true allegiance lie?"
Varys struggled, his voice breaking. "Aegon Blackfyre."
The room murmured, lords exchanging glances. Domonic stepped forward, pulling a severed head from his inventory and tossing it before Varys. "Is this him?"
Varys's face collapsed, his voice a whisper. "Aegon…" He looked at Domonic, despair in his eyes. Domonic's voice was cold. "He led the Golden Company with Harry Strickland in Pentos. Thought it'd be a fitting coronation gift."
Daenerys nodded, her voice firm. "A threat ended." Missandei added, "Uruk sees all."
Aemon declared, "For treason, you die." Varys's head fell, his secrets silenced. The room was cleaned, bodies and heads removed, the stone scrubbed.
Domonic approached the throne, drawing Andúril from his inventory, its blade shimmering. "A gift, King Aemon, for your reign. Andúril, Flame of the West, forged for a king."
Aemon took the sword, unsheathing it, marveling at its craft. He raised it high, the blade catching the light. "To a new Westeros!" The room erupted, lords chanting, "Aemon! Aemon!" Greatjon bellowed, "The dragon's sword!" Oberyn clapped, "A blade for a king!" Robb grinned, "That's my brother!"
The coronation sealed Aemon's rule, but Stannis's shadow lingered at Storm's End. Across the sea, Uruk's empire grew, and in the Red Keep, a new era began under a king of ice and fire.
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POLL
Should domonic travel to parallel world of house of the dragon times?
YES
NO