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#aemon (son of jaehaerys i) targaryen – @gotham-at-nightfall on Tumblr
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I bid you welcome...

@gotham-at-nightfall

~Matt | 28 | New Zealand~
~This is where I conduct my nonsense~
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paparinka

81 AC

King Jaehaerys I Targaryen also known as “The Conciliator”, “The Wise” or “The Old King” with his wife “Good Queen” Alysanne Targaryen and their children (left to right): princess Daella, prince Vaegon, crown prince Aemon with his wife Jocelyn Baratheon and daughter Rhaenys, prince Baelon with his wife Alyssa and son Viserys, princess Maegelle, princess Saera and princess Viserra. The Queen holds princess Gael or “Winter Child”

Upd: Damn, drawing 14 people in my style is just- …wild. Took a month and a half 💀

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twoiafart

The death of Prince Aemon Artwork by Shen Fei

On the ninth day of the third moon of 92 AC, Lord Corlys’s fleet set sail. Prince Aemon took his leave of Lady Jocelyn and his daughter Rhaenys, who had revealed she was with child by Corlys—though she had still offered to fly Meleys into battle. The journey to Tarth went smoothly, and Aemon landed in the Evenstar’s hidden encampment in the mountains of central Tarth. Yet later that evening, as Aemon was walking the camp with Lord Cameron, disaster struck. A pair of Myrish scouts had found the camp thanks to Caraxes’s flame, and one of them—seeing two lords walking unguarded—took aim at Lord Cameron of Tarth. But dusk and the distance took their toll, and the bolt instead pierced Prince Aemon’s throat. The prince drowned in his blood, dead at the age of thirty-seven.

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Boremund Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, had been made aware as well, and was waiting on Cape Wrath to give the Dornishmen a red welcome when they came ashore. He would never have the chance. Jaehaerys Targaryen and his sons Aemon and Baelon had been waiting as well, and as Morion's fleet beat its way actoss the Sea of Dorne, the dragons Vermithor, Caraxes, and Vhagar fell on them from out of the douds. Shouts rang out, and the Dornish filled the air with scorpion bolts, but firing at a dragon is one thing, and killing it quite another. A few bolts glanced off the scales of the dragons, and one punched through Vhagar's wing, but none of them found any vulnerable spots as the dragons swooped and banked and loosed great blasts of fire. One by one the ships went up in gouts of flame. They were still burning when the sun went down, "like a hundred candles floating on the sea." Burned bodies would wash up on the shores of Cape Wrath for half a year, but not a single living Dornishman set foot upon the stormlands.
The Fourth Dornish War!
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