Prologue

Rhaenyra Targaryen screamed in pain, ignoring the urge to tell Grand Maester Orwyle to go fuck himself when he told her yet again to push the babe that was currently stretching her cunt. 'What the fuck does he think I'm doing,' She thought to herself as another contraction went through her as she continued pushing with all her might.

Finally the fruits of her labour payed off and Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief as the babe finally left her aching body and sound of crying filled the room. Rhaenyra just laid their in silence, trying to get her strength back. "Congratulations princess." Orwyle spoke after he had finished cleaning the babe and wrapping him in a blanket. "A healthy baby boy." He announced handing her the boy.

The baby was bald, too young to have any hair yet but his eyes were wide open, revealing bright violet eyes that almost. Rhaenyra didn't know how long she kept staring at her child in almost awe but it certainly must have been a long time. Considering her husband's preferences it was amazing that she had actually been able to conceive a child, luckily those Maesters had a little potion that could stimulate a man and allow them to have sex. Granted it was mostly meant for perverted old men who were unable to get it up but it had worked for her husband.

Though Rhaenyra didn't expect that she would have any more children from Laenor Velaryon, the conception had been an unpleasant experience for the two of them, certainly not how most young girls dreamed about their wedding night. Hell her husband wasn't even here as she was giving birth, having gone on a long hunting trip with his squire and she wasn't expecting him to return to the Capital for at least another two, possibly three days, not that she cared.

Rhaenyra began the process of thinking up names for her son. He couldn't just have any ordinary name, he was her heir after all and therefore the future King of the Seven Kingdoms, he needed a proper name. "So what should I call you young one?" Rhaenyra asked the babe as she rocked him back and forth slightly. "Aenys, no." She decided, she would not name her son after a weak king. "Aegon maybe." It would certainly remind that Hightower bitch who the true heir to the Iron Throne was, but she discarded that name as well.

Rhaenyra continued listing and then discarding names, considering both Viserys and Daemon after both her father and uncle, but she didn't fancy either those names. She briefly considered both Daeron and Jaehaerys but neither of those names seemed to suite her son either.

"Princess, the king and queen are here." Orwyle informed her and Rhaenyra resisted the urge to scowl about the fact that the Hightower bitch was also present. 'No doubt checking to see if my son lives,' She couldn't help but think vindictively.

"Hello Rhaenyra, how are you?" Viserys asked his daughter with concern as he entered the room, his wife trailing behind him reluctantly. He knew the dangers to woman in childbirth, after all he'd lost his first wife to the birthing bed.

"I'm fine father." Rhaenyra lied, hiding the fact that she was completely exhausted. "Meet your first grandson father." Rhaenyra said as she handed her son to her father who had a small smile on his face as he held his grandson, a contrast to the scowl on Alicent Hightower's face at the fact that Rhaenyra had apparently born a healthy son. It was hard to believe that the two of them had actually genuinely liked one another when the woman had first become her stepmother.

"Beautiful." Viserys said as he held his grandson. "Does he have a name?"

"I was thinking about Aeron. Aeron Velaryon." She named him.

"No." Her father stated firmly, causing her to look at him surprised. "He is your heir and will therefore one day sit on the Iron Throne, he needs the Targaryen name. Prince Aeron Targaryen."

In the corner of the room Queen Alicent Hightower could be seen gritting her teeth.


Aeron Targaryen the firstborn, and as some would later whisper, the only son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband Laenor Velaryon was an exceptionally intelligent child. By his eighth month he was able to say his first word, mother to Rhaenyra, and by his second name day he had stopped using nappies and had been successfully weaned off the wet nurses teat. By his fourth name day he was capable of speaking the common tongue fluently and was just as capable in reading and writing.

All these factors spoke positive factors about the boy who would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms. At the age of six he was presented with an emerald dragon egg before the court by his grandfather, who answered that "She's perfect." How Aeron knew that the dragon inside the egg was a female has been a mystery for the court since no one was aware of the genders of dragons while they are still in the eggs, especially as the young prince was proven right and the dragon hatched was a female who Aeron named Solthys

Not many had expected Solthys to survive. When born the hatchling was quite possibly one of the smallest dragon that had been recorded by the Targaryens since they had settled on Dragonstone, earning the boy much mockery from his uncle Aegon, but Aeron personally cared and raised his dragon on his own and refused to chain her up in the Dragonpit.

Within a decade Solthys would grow at an exceptional rate, most likely because as his with his great uncle Daemon, Aeron would refuse to allow his dragon to be locked up in the Dragonpit and by 125 AC Solthys would be as large as his uncle Aegon's dragon Sunfyre despite the dragon being more then five years older then that of the snow scaled dragon.

Three years after Aeron was born he became an older brother when his mother Rhaenyra gave birth to her second son Prince Jacaerys Velaryon the heir of Driftmark. And again in 115 AC she gave birth to her third son Lucerys and her fourth son Joffrey in 117 AC. One would say that Laenor and Rhaenyra were truly blessed by the Seven for having four children, if it weren't for the fact that with the exception of Aeron none of their children took after their parents, with all three possessing brown eyes and hair and pug noses, a complete contrast to their parents and older brother, causing many to whisper that their real father was Ser Harwin Strong, Princess Rhaenyra's sworn shield.

Of course very few people had the guts to call any of them bastards in front of Aeron Targaryen who was known to beet anyone who dared insult his brother's, causing much strife between him and his young uncles Aegon and Aemond who, along with their mother, were the main sources of the rumours concerning his brothers parentage.

But while Aegon and Aeron merely disliked each other, Aemond and Aeron completely loathed each other. No one knows when the animosity developed but the two of them truly started hating each other at Aeron's father's funeral when Aeron found Aemond brutally beating all three of his brothers, and when he saw a knife in his uncle's hand he drew his own knife and slashed at his uncle's face, taking out his right eye.

Alicent Hightower had demanded that Aeron lose an eye, while Rhaenyra demanded Aemond questioned sharply for calling her sons Strong. Aeron escaped with no punishment, in fact many said that he was actually rewarded because his great uncle, and stepfather Daemon Targaryen later took the boy on as his squire, while King Viserys decreed that any man who dared call his grandsons bastards would lose their tongue.

In the aftermath Prince Aemond would say that losing an eye was a small price for gaining Vhagar while Prince Aeron would say that Aemond was lucky he still had one eye.


"Left" Daemon Targaryen the younger brother of King Viserys and the husband to Princess Rhaenyra said to his squire as he swung a practice sword to the left. "Right, left, right, right, left. And now you are dead." Daemon stated as he held the practice sword to Aeron's throat while the boy glared at him angrily.

"But you said left and went right." The boy objected glaring at him while he couldn't help but chuckle.

"And now you are dead." He reminded him.

"Only because you lied." Aeron snapped at him.

"My tongue lied but my eyes held the truth. The eyes are the key to victory in a fight boy. Remember that." Daemon told him as Aeron nodded as he picked up the practice sword all the while looking into his eyes with determination, causing Daemon to smile.

Daemon had not been happy when his brother had told him he was to take Aeron as his squire, but it had taken him a total of one minute to realise the purpose of it. It was a punishment for the boy for cutting out his uncle's eye, and himself for wedding the boy's mother. After all Aeron now had one of the most brutal and demanding taskmasters in Westeros overseeing his training, and Daemon was now forced to look after the brat. But to his surprise Daemon actually liked the boy, he was determined, never giving up and he wanted to be great, wanting to be remembered. Truthfully the boy actually reminded Daemon of himself at that age.

The fact that the boy adored Caraxes and that his dragon actually seemed to like the boy in return, and unless Daemon was mistaken had been the one to sire Solthys' egg given the way his dragon always treated the younger one, had certainly helped. Even among their families dragons Caraxes was dangerous. In fact with Balerion dead and Vhagar herself reaching an incredibly old age, his dragon was probably the most dangerous in their families possession. As a result even several Targaryens and Velaryons, including his brother who had been the last rider of Belarion the Dread, were wary of Caraxes and steered clear of him. Aeron however wasn't afraid of Caraxes, in fact the boy was nothing but fascinated by his dragon, constantly asking for permission to ride him, Solthys while indeed old enough for Aeron to ride, had yet reached the age where she could carry her rider for long periods of time.

So Aeron's awe of Caraxes had certainly helped warm Daemon up to him. Hell one of the reasons he had loathed his first wife Rhea Rhoyce so much was because of the way she had viewed Caraxes, thinking him as nothing more then a wild beast and treating him as such whenever the Bronze Bitch ever had the balls to be anywhere near Caraxes. Targaryens and their dragons were bonded in ways that was simply impossible for outsiders to even understand. They weren't pets, they were their closest companions and friends and completely irreplaceable. A reason why most Targaryens, such as his brother never tried bonding to a second dragon after their first had died.

After near two hours of training the boy he asked the boy a question he already knew the answer to. If he wanted to ride Caraxes, and the large smile on the boy's face was his answer.

Reaching out with his bond to Caraxes he called the dragon to him. He could feel Caraxes annoyance at being disturbed from his slumber but sending a mental picture of Aeron and his eagerness and Caraxes finally roused himself. When his dragon flew into the open field on Dragonstone he saw Aeron resisting the urge to jump up and down.

Daemon smiled at the sight of his dragon as he landed. A large red beast with an almost lean frame, with it's limbs and neck being more slender then some of the other male dragons in their families possession. A beast more suited for speed and stealth then physical strength.

Picking the boy up he placed him on the saddle on Caraxes back and after making sure he was securely chained to it Daemon sat behind him and then secured his held to the saddle. It would be a humiliating way to die if he, a dragonrider was to die flying a dragon. Not to mention that he doubted Rhaenyra would ever take him into her bed again if her son happened to die while with him. Once they were both secure Caraxes pushed himself off the ground and launched himself into the air, causing Aeron to let out a scream of pure joy at the sensation of flying.

As Caraxes flew around the Island of Dragonstone Daemon's mind couldn't help but wander towards the boy in front of him, more particularly his parentage. It was obvious that he wasn't Harwin Strong's bastard, but that of course didn't make Laenor Velaryon's son. Unless his spies were wrong then the only time that Rhaenyra and Laenor had actually fucked each other was on their wedding night, and Aeron had been born approximately eight months after that wedding. Most had chalked Aeron up to being born ahead of schedule, Daemon himself however had his own theory.

Daemon had slept with Rhaenyra nearly six weeks before her wedding, and as far as he knew Rhaenyra had no lovers between then and her wedding. Either a late born son by Daemon Targaryen or an early born one by Laenor Velaryon.

He suspected the former and the thought pleased him. Daemon had always coveted his brother's crown but he had long acknowledged that he would only ever be Rhaenyra's consort, and his own attempts at making a crown for himself had not paid off thanks to the Kingdom of the Three Whores and those blasted Dornishmen. But that didn't change the fact that Daemon wanted his blood to rule Westeros. If anything happened to Aeron then his daughters Baela and Rhaena were betrothed Rhaenyra's second and third sons Jacaerys and

After nearly half an hour of flying Daemon directed Caraxes to the ground.


"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." King Viserys Targaryen the first of his name declared as he held the blade of his Valyrian steel sword Blackfyre on the shoulder of his kneeling grandson Aeron who was struggling to keep his face stoic. He was only fourteen years old, the youngest member of his family to ever be knighted and Aeron was pleased.

And unlike most young nobles Aeron wasn't being knighted because of who his ancestors were, or because like many young nobles he begged his parents for it, but because of his actions. It certainly filled him with pride. Despite the fact that he loathed his uncles Aeron actually got along very well with his aunt Helaena and a week the two of them had been riding through the Kingswood without their dragons when they had been attacked by bandits.

Six bandits with only one Kingsguard protector Aeron had been forced to put his training from his great uncle Daemon to the test. Five years of training under Daemon Targaryen had paid off and despite it being his first taste of combat he had managed to kill two of the bandits while injuring the third, while Ser Rickard Thorne dealt with the rest. When they returned to the capital his grandfather announced a feast in which he would be knighted.

"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just." King Viserys continued with the ceremony. "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women. Now arise Ser Aeron Targaryen." Viserys declared as he removed the blade from his shoulder and he did so while the great hall exploded in cheers, with one half much more subdued then the others

Many of the 'Greens' were clapping out of mere politeness and stopped after a few moments. His uncles Aegon and Aemond weren't even clapping, but that didn't surprise him, he certainly wouldn't clap for them.

"However there is more." Viserys declared after the clapping had died down but before Aeron could take his seat. He resisted the urge to look at his grandfather in confusion, It wouldn't do for the court to realise that he was ignorant of what the king was planning. "My time of needing a weapon is over, for I no longer need this blade." The king said referring to Blackfyre which was still in his hand, even if it was now in its scabbard. "Blackfyre is meant for either the king or his heir, and while my daughter is my heir she does not require a blade, therefore it is only fitting that this sword should go to her own heir."

The entire hall was shocked silent, Aeron included. For a moment he couldn't speak, he could scarcely even think before he gathered enough of his sense to kneel before his grandfather. "You honour me your grace." Aeron said, not quite able to think of anything else to say.

"Arise Aeron and take your blade." Doing as he was bid he strapped Blackfyre from his belt, surprised by just how light the sword was. It was still heavy, but it wasn't as heavy as ordinary bastard sword the same size as Blackfyre.

As Aeron took his seat next to his mother the hall once again was filled with cheers, although only the 'Blacks' were actually cheering, the Hightowers and their 'Greens' were openly glaring at him. Aeron couldn't help but chuckle at the way that his uncles Aegon and Aemond were glaring at him.

'That's right you piece of shit,' He thought to his wasteful and gluttonous uncle Aegon. 'My mother is heir to the Iron Throne, and then me. You will never sit it,'

"Congratulations Aeron." His mother Rhaenyra said to him with a large smile, feeling the same joy he felt at the anger the Hightowers were experiencing., as well as pride at her son's achievement and being given Blackfyre.

"Thank you mother." He said as he kissed her cheek. The years had not been kind to his mother, six pregnancies within fifteen years had left her bloated, unable to successfully lose the weight she had gained from her pregnancies. She was still a beautiful woman despite the weight that she had gained, but his mother was no longer called 'The Realm's delight' by the court.

"Indeed, it looks like Hightower is about to have a stroke." Daemon commented idly as he stared at the Hightower harpy sitting across the other side of the hall. "Maybe she'll do us all a favour and croak."

Aeron snorted at the dark humour of his stepfather while Rhaenyra glared at her husband. Not because of what he had said but because of where he had said it and in front of whom. "Not in front of the children Daemon." She admonished her husband who only snorted into his wine. He had said far worse in public and to the bitch herself.

"Why not mother, she hates us and we hate her." Jacaerys questioned.

"That doesn't mean you should say such things out loud." Rhaenyra hated Alicent Hightower more then any of them, but she was at least mindful of what she said about the Hightowers, one had to keep up appearances after all.

"Can we see your blade Aeron." Lucerys asked feeling giddy, all but bouncing on his seat in excitement.

"Sure brat." Aeron said fondly as he withdrew Blackfyre from its scabbard and placed it on the table while his younger brothers looked at the blade in awe.

"It's brilliant." His eight year old brother Joffrey exclaimed before reaching for the blade to the alarm of everyone at the table. Joffrey wasn't reaching for the hand but the Valyrian steel capable of cutting through flesh like a fish through water.

As fast as a snake Daemon grasped Joffrey's wrist before the boy grabbed the blade. "Do not touch." He said releasing his wrist.

After near half an hour of sitting with his family Aeron stood up. "Where are you going?" Rhaenyra questioned her son.

"To piss off some Greens." He answered, causing her to snort as he walked over to where his aunt and uncle were sitting.

"What do you want?" Aegon the elder all but snarled at his nephew, trying to seem intimidating but all he appeared to Aeron was jealous. 'Oh yes, he's practically green with envy,' Aeron thought to himself, struggling to hide his amusement.

Ignoring his uncle, which Aeron knew would only enrage him further he looked directly at his aunt. "Would you like a dance princess?" He asked holding out his hand, causing his uncle to swell in anger.

"I would love to my prince." Helena answered as she took her nephews hand, ignoring the way her husband-brother glared at her in betrayal. Helena cared not what Aegon thought or felt, she had stopped caring when on their wedding night after the bedding he had gone to his paramour, proclaiming that she was the worst screw he had ever had.

Hell the bastard spent more time with his paramour then he did with their children. Helena knew that as far as Targaryen princess's went she was far from the most beautiful woman in her family, being more chubbier then what was considered beautiful, but having her husband openly shunning her bed near every night in exchange for the Bracken whore that Aegon had taken for his paramour genuinely hurt her.

Dancing around around the court with her nephew Helaena couldn't help but lament the fact that she hadn't married her nephew instead of her brother. Her father had actually suggested the idea and her sister Rhaenyra had even approved of it. But her mother certainly hadn't and the next thing Helaena knew she was being prepared a wedding dress in order to marry her brother.

"So how are my little cousins?" Aeron asked with genuine curiosity and care. Despite the tensions that existed in their family he had nothing but love for Jaehaerys and Jaehaera who were nothing but sweet and ordinary children.

"Getting bigger and smarter every day." Helaena answered with a large smile. She didn't love her brother, but she loved the children that she had from him. Helaena opened her mouth to say more but before she could she was interrupted.

"Bet you loved that didn't you Aeron. Precious Aeron Targaryen given Blackfyre." The cruel voice of her brother Aemond sent a shiver down her spine. Aemond honestly frightened her at times, in fact he actually terrified her. Often brutalising men in the training yard for the sheer joy of it and Helaena couldn't even count the number of female servants who went into his chambers and were never seen again.

Maegor's one eye, or simply Maegor's eye some called her brother and Helaena honestly couldn't fault them.

"Aemond." Aeron didn't speak like a nephew addressing his uncle, he spoke like someone meeting their mortal enemy, or how a Blackwood would speak to a Bracken.

Aemond's gaze switched from her nephew to her and Helaena resisted the urge to shiver at her brother's gaze, and by the way that he smirked she guessed that she wasn't able too and she glanced away. Looking into either Aemond's sinister purple or eye, or the sapphire that replaced his lost one was unnerving. "Sweet sister, consorting with the enemy I see."

"I didn't realise that dancing with one's family was the same as consorting with enemy's dear uncle." Aeron interjected.

"I guess not, and we are family, and such a large family at that. After all you have three Strong brothers don't you nephew?" 'Oh by the Seven,' Helaena prayed with concern at the way that Aeron's face darkened. Only a fool, or someone looking for a fight dared call the brothers of Aeron Targaryen bastards or Strongs.

"Careful Aemond." Aeron warned darkly, trying the reign in the anger coursing through him. "You think yourself powerful but you are but a little man far too slow on the draw." Aeron spoke with his hand drifting the knife on his belt, Aemond's hand doing the same. Neither of them had swords on them, Aemond hadn't brought a sword to the feast while Aeron had left Blackfyre with his mother, yet that didn't mean that they weren't capable of killing each other with knives.

"That's enough." Helaena spoke firmly putting herself in between the two of them before they killed each other, something that was very possible, Aegon wasn't the only one angry about Aeron being given Blackfyre but Aemond unlike their brother was willing to let their anger control them. "Aemond leave." Helaena spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond stared at her for a full minute before scoffing. "Fine I was getting bored anyway." He said wandering off.

"And you," Helaena said turning to her nephew.

"He started that." Aeron protested.

"Yet you are the one who is determined to turn every encounter with my brother into a fight. My father gave you Blackfyre, and all but declared you the future king of Westeros, act like it." She snapped storming off, leaving Aeron to return to his mother and siblings.


Harry was terrified. The monster who had murdered his parents had been brought back to life by the man who had not only betrayed his parents but had murdered Cedric right before his eyes.

He should have let Remus and Sirius kill the weasel last year. Once a traitor always a traitor but Harry had been able to let them kill him. And now because of his weakness Cedric was dead. He hadn't been close to Cedric, but the older boy had always been kind to him and at least ensured that none of his friends gave him any hassle about his entry in this stupid tournament.

"Crucio." The monster called Voldemort that had killed his parents and was now trying to kill cast the torture spell at a speed that was impossible for him to dodge in time.

Harry was used to pain. Constant beating from his uncle and his cousin ensured that Harry possessed an exceptional pain tolerance for someone of his age, but this was beyond anything that he had ever experienced. The pain was so intense, so all consuming, that he no longer knew where he was... White hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain; he was screaming more loudly then he'd ever screamed in his life.

"Atta boy Harry," Voldemort mockingly complimented him while he lay panting on the floor. Harry had been so consumed by the pain that he hadn't even realised that he had collapsed to the floor. "Especially your filthy Mudblood mother."

"Expelliarmus." Harry bellowed, pointing his wand at Voldemort despite the protests in his limbs at the movement. A flash of red light shot at Voldemort but the man simply reflected the spell back at him, knocking the wind from him.

Harry lay panting on the floor, trying to get his breath back as Voldemort stalked towards. "I'm going to kill you Harry Potter. I'm going to destroy you." Voldemort said crouching next to him. "After tonight no one will ever again question my power. After tonight if they speak of you, they'll speak only of how you truly, begged for death. And I being a merciful lord obliged."

The smirk on Voldemort's face terrified him. Never before had Harry been so scared for his life, not even in the Chamber of Secrets had he been so scared for his life. "Get up." Voldemort yelled and with an impressive display of windless magic forced Harry to his feat.

The second Harry was on his feet he did the only thing that he could think of; he ran. Hardly something that a Gryffindor would do but in that moment he really didn't care, barely dodging a killing curse as he made it to the relative safety behind the tomb of Voldemort's father.

"Don't you dare turn your back on my Harry Potter, I want you to look at me as I kill you. I want to see the light leave your eyes." Voldemort bellowed.

Harry knew in that moment that he wasn't going to escape. But he refused to die on his knees begging the monster that had killed his parents for mercy. Swallowing nervously Harry mustered his courage and determination and left the cover of the tomb.

"Have it your way then. Expelliarmus."

"Avada Kedavra."

The two spells collided, creating an explosion of light.


Aeron gasped loudly as he awoke from the dream, immediately grabbing a cup of water from his bedside table, downing it at once, quenching his thirst. 'Another dream,' he thought to himself.

Aeron sighed as he laid back on his bed. He had been having these dreams for the past week, ever since he had killed those bandits in the kingswood. He had no idea what the connection between those dreams and killing those bandits but that was the only explanation that he could think of.

His family was known to possess dreamers in the past, his ancestor Daenys the Dreamer who had saved their family from the Doom of Valyria being the prime example. Was he a dreamer? That seemed to be the logical explanation, but what he was dreaming made absolutely no sense at all.

On his first dream he had seen Hogwarts, an honestly ridiculous name but that didn't change the fact that the castle was unlike any he had ever seen. As a prince of the Seven Kingdoms Aeron had visited castles all over the realm, Dragonstone, the Eyrie, Storm's End and Casterly Rock were but a few castles of many, yet Hogwarts matched them all.

And then their was the magic. Spells and enchantments like something out of a fairytale, or from Valyria at its prime. Did he have magic? That was a question that had been plaguing Aeron since he had first started having these dreams. He was a Targaryen, dragon rider to the emerald beast Solthys. If any family should have magic then it should be them but his mother had taught him all of their family's dragon lore, including how to bond with their dragons and how to draw strength from them.

Then a memory came to him. He remembered nearly two years ago Daemon had been conducting a search of Dragonstone and he remembered the man telling his mother that the Councillor should not have abandoned their dragon lore.

It was a closely kept a secret in their family, in fact not even the Hightower bitch and her brood were aware of it but much of the lore their family had scavenged from Valyria had been destroyed in order to bring the Faith into the fold.

Which led to the question of whether or not his family did possess magic and had simply destroyed it in order to appease the Faith of the Seven. "Only one way to find out." Aeron muttered to himself as he reached out to Solthys through the bond that connected them.

He could feel his bonded, feel her frustration and anger at being forced to be locked up in the Dragonpit instead being able to roam free in the sky. "I need you my Solthys, I need your strength," He told her as he prepared to do what he was about to, feeling his dragon's energy filling him, and removing any traces of sleep that he had once felt, making him wide awake.

"Lumos."

For the purpose of this story Rhaenyra was born in 94 AC, so she and Laenor married in 111 AC and Aenor was born in the same year, making him the older brother of Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, and one year younger then Aemond. Why I'm doing this story, well most crossovers take place in canon, a few years before it or during Robert's rebellion. The Dance of Dragons whoever is a gold mine of potential stories.

Also the bond between the Targaryens and their dragons is inspired by the way riders bond to their dragons in the Inheritance Cycle books.

Aegon the 2nd born 107 AC

Helaena born 109 AC

Aemond born 110 AC

Aeron born 111 AC

Daeron born 114 AC

Jacaerys born 114 AC

Lucerys born 115 AC

Joffrey born 117 AC

Aegon the 3rd born 120 AC

Viserys the 2nd born 122 AC