Chapter 1: PROLOGUE
Notes:
Hello people, a newbie here
This is my first time writing for this fandom. I've read GRRM books for years but never felt like writing anything about it... Until Daemyra got a serious hold of me again and wont let me go.
Thanks to the horror show that was GoT finale, I swore off watching HotD to avoid another disappointment but then this year I got bored to tears and ended succumbing to temptation. So obvs I fell in love with Rhaenyra and Daemon all over again, theyre my favs my cute dysfunctional babies
Fire&Blood is such a huge frustration and if the book wasn't borrowed at the time I read it, I would have set the thing on fire tbh. HotD has it's high and lows as well and also frustrated me so bad in some aspects. So this is my attempt at fixing some pieces and bits from both
I apologize beforehand if the writing maybe be confusing, all crazy and all over the place. English is not my first language and my dyslexic/ADHD ass doesn't help at all. Plus I'm used to writing modern and original works, never tried this medieval-like style beforeAnyways... The gist of the story is that all the tragedy babe Rhae experienced in her childhood traumatized her real bad and so she matures/grows up very early on. And when she sees Viserys (im warning you im not this guy fan at all okay) true colors and all the vipers/leeches aiming for the Targs destruction, baby girl has a 360º change and actually starts playing the game. From the age of 8 cause I'm a radical b*
As a victim of childhood trauma and bad parenting myself, I know very well how somethings can force a child into becoming an adult for survival. We'll been dealing with that and it wont be pretty.I've 5 chapters ready and currently working on the 6th cause I've been on a inspired streak these days but more often than not I've writers block, I write slow thanks to my TDHA and editing is a b* thanks to my dyslexia so these first few chapters may be posted rather quickly but it won't be always be the case. Plus anxiety, depression and insecurity are a pain in my ass. Just decided to post it already on a drunk whim
Tittle of the story is inspired by my all time favorite Florence&theMachine song.
Disclaimer: I make no profit off of this work, there's no copyright infringement intended. The story is for entertainment and some fun time. All characters and already existent content belongs to GRRM/HBO
Obs: I made the moddboard but the pictures are not mine, I picked them from pinterest so all rights of each picture belong to its respective owners.If you do not like any of the pairings or the tags I put up, please just skip right ahead for something of your like instead. I've been reading fics in the GoT fandom and now HotD fandom long enough to know how crazy people can get. There's no need to come be nasty if you do not like any of what I tagged and what I'm writing, don't waste anyone's time with unnecessary hate.
Okay that's it, I'll stop talking endlessly now.
I hope you like the story and get interested in reading more
Do have fun ;D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
In the wake of King Viserys disregard for her dear mother and herself, his only surviving child, wrenching Aemma from her life in the worst way possible and then forcing a burden on her young shoulders out of spite, Rhaenyra learns a hard lesson no child should ever have to.
After His Grace’s disrespect of her beloved mother’s memory by entertaining another woman at night in secret so soon after the Queen’s horrific death, a lowly second son’s daughter no less. With the king’s weakness and foolishness, Rhaenyra finds herself resentful and angry towards her father. And she quickly learns he will do nothing to actually protect the duty he forced on her nor will he love and respect her as a father should.
With the harsh realization that if she is to even survive, at eight years old Rhaenyra is forced to shed herself of childhood and become an adult. She is forced to learn how to grow up quickly to be able to fight the vipers surrounding her family. She has to learn how to be a woman grown in the body of a child. All because her father is a weak man. A puppet king for an overreaching Andal instead of a Dragon.
If she is to succeed, protect the small family remaining to her and the Targaryen legacy, if she is to become the first ruling Queen of the Seven Kingdoms… Rhaenyra learns early in life she has to scheme, lie, plot wicked things, manipulate and even kill in order to defeat the Green Vipers. No child should ever be forced in such a role, learn and do such things but so is the reality created by a king who should have never been.
It’s Rhaenyra’s reality and she will have all that her heart’s desire: be a successful heir, ascend the Iron Throne and have her Uncle Daemon by her side. Rhaenyra swears it upon the memory of her mother. She promises to win. Whatever it takes, she will be Queen.
And cursed will be the ones to try to get in her way.
Notes:
Soo any thoughts on this start?!?!?!? Please let me know what you think and if you liked/got interested by leaving kudos&comments pls pls pls
And again if you did not like it that's fine, skip to another story. Constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.
Some further explaining:
I'll be blending book&show: choosing the most interesting changes made by the show, putting events and whatnot from the books into the show and verse versa, that sort of thing
I'll be using the book-canon age for most of the characters.
The timeline will be mostly book-canon as well so some of the show parts I'll be incorporating into the book timeline, so show events will be happening in a different period than in the show. Other parts will happen in the show timeline.
I may also write some events in a different order and neither book/show chronological order
Some characters I'll be mixing their book&show counterparts together, while bringing book characters not shown in the series or also not using them like in the show.
I'll put up birthdates, ages, changes made and anything else on the end note of each chapters moving forwardDont be a shy ghost of a reader like me, let me know your thoughts okay
See you in the next one ;D
Chapter 2: Chapter One: 97 AC
Notes:
Hello again so very soon ^^"
So since the prologue is just a tiny little piece of the general plot I decided to post the first chapter already so you guys who got interested can check things out a bit better, see if it's really to your liking ;)
These first few chapters are going to focus more on the grown ups of the story - mainly daemon boy ofc - to set up the background of things, to show the changes/additions I've made to some events, my own spin on the canon. Then it will be Rhaenyra's time swoop in to take on the spotlight.
Like I tagged things will have a slow build/burn cause I often lost track of things, get lost on the most minimal of details, I drag on unnecessarily. So if slow-paced is not your vibe, this will certainly be a frustrating reading
Since there's no way in hell I'll reread F&B - i already have to rewatch bits and pieces of HotD so no way i'll add the book to the frustration fest - the timeline will be sloppy regarding canon and mostly I'll be doing my own timeline of events really, pls no judgments okayReminder that English is not my first language, this is unbetaed and I've a serious case of dyslexia/ADHD, so if there's grammar mistakes and the narrative may seem confusing, I'm terribly sorry
Also the boards are made by me but all pictures I picked from pinterest, so all rights belong to their respective owners/editorsI think that's it for now
Have fun ;D
Edit 08/18: Story's tumblr and pinterest for visuals/imagery:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-1/
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
On the night of the 10th day of the 4th moon of 97 AC a newborn’s shrieking cries filled the corridors of Dragonstone for the first time in many years. After one night and a day battling the odds to bring forth a child, Aemma Targaryen née Arryn was successful when a healthy and strong baby girl came into the world screaming her arrival for all to hear that there was a new Targaryen in the world.
Despite the baby’s father brief disappointment over the child being a girl instead of a boy, the baby’s mother, grandfather, great-grandmother and uncle were delighted with the news. And once the father, Prince Viserys Targaryen, saw and held his daughter for the first time he forgot any disappointment and fell utterly in love with his precious girl.
On that night, Rhaenyra Targaryen was born and she was cherished and loved from the very first moment of her life.
Aemma had been wedded at only 11 namedays and then bedded at four and ten when her moon blood came. Only now holding her newborn daughter in her arms that she could think for the first time that that had been worth it. All the pain, all the blood and the tears. It had finally been worth it and had meaning for her to have had stood in the altar of marriage and then bedded at such young age. It had all been worth it for the chance to hold her own baby daughter, a love all-consuming blooming in her heart when the baby’s lilac-eyes gazed back at her. Now that she held her own baby in her arms it was when Aemma finally understood the true meaning of love.
And when the Good Queen Alysanne saw the baby girl and said she was the spit image of her little flower when she had been born, both women wept over the painful reminder of Daella Targaryen. The Queen cried for hours afterwards remembering both daughters, Alyssa and Daella, she had lost too soon.
Baelon Targaryen, Crown Prince of Drangonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, for the first time in over a decade felt true happiness when holding his first grandchild for the first time. The prince had been dealt tragedy after tragedy for so many years that he had become just a shell of a man, hanging on life only for the duty and love he had to his sons… But on the night his granddaughter came into their lives, Baelon felt happy for once.
Prince Daemon Targaryen had been in awe of that small fragile human that was his niece when his brother put her into his arms for the first time. At six and ten he was a restless and chaotic young man, only cared for swordplay and knighthood, only desired to taste all the wine he could and all the pleasures of a woman’s tights. He was a fighter, a warrior, he was a Targaryen prince and more importantly he was a dragon, nothing else mattered. When he held and gazed upon a newly born baby girl, the epitome of Targaryen traits and beauty, Daemon Targaryen suddenly cared for more.
From that night forward, Rhaenyra Targaryen enchanted and delighted everyone who came across her. The delightful baby who brought a smile upon the face of Prince Baelon the Brave for the first time in years, people would say. And for the first couple years of her life, Rhaenyra knew nothing else but love and happiness. Even the Old King would spare rare smiles whenever the little girl was close by; just as his wife, he would also see their daughters on those young pretty features.
It was thanks to that, some assumed, that when Prince Daemon took a dragon egg without permission and placed it in the cradle of the little girl, both King and Queen allowed the egg to remain at Rhaenyra’s side.
Less than a sun turn after her birth, Rhaenyra surprised everyone once again when a yellow-scaled dragon hatched for her; a dragon hasn’t hatched in the cradle ever since the Queen’s own mount, Silverwing, hatched decades ago. A true Targaryen princess, a true dragon, a real miracle amongst so much loss and tragedy many people whispered in wonder of Rhaenyra Targaryen.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Daemon Targaryen, at six and ten, thought he owned the whole world… Just as any other highborn young man that age tended to.
His fiery, restless and chaotic temper was all Alyssa’s as well as his appearance, and that brought pain upon his family in a way he could not see nor understand untill it was too late.
Baelon sometimes could barely look upon his youngest son in fear of the pain the memory of his beloved wife would bring, leaving a small boy to wander all alone, to be adrift until been lost. He could not be a true father to the young boy as he still strived to be to his older son. Although he sometimes would will his weak heart to try, to have the strength to attempt to do better, more often than not Baelon fell short which would make him despair even more over disappointing his beloved wife in such a way.
The Old King saw too much fire in his youngest grandson’s eyes, too much of what Visenya had, too much of what Maegor had, too much of what his own daughters, Saera and Alyssa had. It was disconcerting for the king to witness it but the boy was so loyal to the family, loved his father and brother above all else, that the king did not really worry much. So when Daemon proved himself to be a skilled sword fighter even before fully reaching manhood, proved himself to not only be a good swordfighter but to have the potential to be a great warrior, the old and wise king did not blink when deciding to knight Daemon when he turned six and ten, and gift him with Dark Sister no less.
Daemon thought that was the highest honor bestowed upon him, a good omen of better days to come. A sign he was to be the protector of his family, the defender of the Targaryen legacy, the warrior to bring glory to the family name. It was not until a short time later he found out the true reason behind the gift: a consolation prize to soften the blow of being chartered off to the mountains of the Vale. Far away from home, far away from family.
Good Queen Alysanne unlike her husband, she worried over the young boy at first; when he ran all around the Red Keep bringing terror to his caretakers and anyone in his path, when he fought boys twice his age and size over the smallest of reasons, when he would declare loudly to everyone and anyone that he would go to the Dragonpit and claim a dragon all by himself, when his knees and hands and little body were constantly bruised from all the chaos of his ways. But the worry – and the pain of a living reminder of her wildest daughter – soon turned to bitterness, a feeling no grandmother should ever feel.
When the chance presented itself, the Good Queen did not think twice before striking a deal that would see the reckless boy away from court, chained in an unwanted marriage and set up to be finally tamed. The queen just forgot that a dragon could never be truly tamed.
At six and ten Prince Daemon Targaryen thought he owned the whole world. Daemon was a prince of the blood, a Targaryen royal, a dragonrider… Unlike others he had true reasons to believe the world had to kneel at his feet. But it all came crashing down around him when he suffered what he viewed as the worst betrayal a person could have. A betrayal dealt by his own family.
While all Targaryen men around him were granted worthy matches, while he grew up amongst love marriages, while he learnt and saw Targaryen married and in love with Targaryen… Daemon was forcibly chained to a lowly sheep of a minor house.
As a second son, Daemon knew he did not have the same privileges as his older brother, he had learned early in life he would have to fight for his place in the world, that he would have to be the one to make a name for himself. Though he naively thought that that would not apply when it came to his family, to his duties to the Targaryen legacy.
There was still Princess Gael left from the King and Queen's children, a full-blooded Targaryen princess and then with the birth of Rhaenyra there was another full-blooded Valyrian girl, his own flesh and blood. Still he was sold to some sheep of the Vale from a minor house no less. He could not understand why his grandmother, a woman he greatly admired for her wisdom, was so intent in a worthless match for one of the few remaining Targaryen male that could carry on the family line. He could not understand why the king was allowing that when a match to one of the remaining Targaryen women would be more logical to secure the dwindling Targaryen bloodline.
Most of all, Daemon could not understand how his father and brother could have just stood there stoned-faced while he plead and cried not to let that be his fate. Both men he loved more than life itself just turned their back on him without a single attempt at listening to his words, without a single attempt at fighting for him.
The day Daemon betrothal was announced, the night all his family turned their backs on him, Daemon learned a hard lesson: his loyalty and love for his family was not reciprocated. While he would kill and die for his family if needed, they would not even fight for him when he did need it.
However, he was young and still held hope in his heart for a better future even after been dragged to the altar and then sent far away from home.
When he received permission to go back home for the tourney in celebration of his niece's birth and survival after some moons; after he had to spend weeks living a bleak existence in the cage his family threw him into, Daemon thought that maybe things were soon to be better. But betrayal was to become his companion, for as soon as festivities in celebration of the new Targaryen baby were done, Prince Baelon told he was to go back to the Vale, to his wife, to do his duty and father a child as well.
Daemon would not get to stay home as he hoped, he was not to see his niece grow up, and he was to remain chained down and away from all that he loved. He would never give them the satisfaction of seeing him go away quietly though and so Daemon stole a dragon egg and bestowed it upon his little niece. Daemon knew deep in his bones that the egg would hatch for the girl, just as he had known Caraxes was destined to be his.
The night Daemon said his good-bye to his sweet baby niece - the second time he had to do so before she even reached 6 moons of age -, a yellow-scaled egg safely snuggled to her side, and she gave him her first smile Daemon held hope again that maybe not all was lost. For in those lavender eyes he saw the same fire that burned bright and hot in his veins. Rhaenyra was to be a dragon like him, a goddess amongst human like the Valyrian women of old. She was to be the future of their house, he knew it then and Daemon vowed to make sure it would be so.
However, Daemon did not stay that young and hopeful for long. The days did not get any better and the future of House Targaryen seemed to become darker and darker. And tragedy was soon to strike again.
Notes:
Soooo??? Hit me with your thoughts, leave comments&kudos pls pls pls
If you did not like and have nothing nice to say, pls just skip to something else
Character's ages by the time of this chapter
Rhaenyra - 0, newly born obvs
Daemon - 16
Viserys - 20
Aemma - 15
Baelon - 40
Jaehaerys - 63
Alysanne - 61
Gael - 17About Aemma: in canon she was married at 11 and I think its also canon she was only bedded when she got her period when she was like 12 going on 13, I dont really remember. Also dont remember correctly but I think she was supposed to have lost a baby or two before Rhaenyra. My canon though will be that she only got bedded and pregnant at 14. Rhaenyra will be the first baby Aemma got pregnant with and gave birth to.
About Daemon and his marriage: I'll never really understand what was up Alysanne's ass to match him w Rhea and what lack in judgment from Jaehaerys was that to allow it when Gael was right fucking there. Their children were dying left and right, the total of grandchildren&greatgrandchildren was small, Targaryen bloodline was on a very thin thread, they already had a good marriage alliance w the Vale, so why in the seven hells?! I do get the whys behind it but gosh the stupidity -_-
On that note, I'll follow canon in regards that there will be plenty of underage going around and incest because duh, if that's not your vibe pls do skip to other story. Take care of yourselves okay, just read what makes you comfortable.
I may be forgetting something else but oh well ...
Any doubts/questions drop a comment, I'll be happy to discuss things w you
Btw is the notes on the previous chapter appearing twice for anyone else too? If it is, I've no idea why or how to fix itSee you on the next chapter ;D
Chapter 3: Chapter Two: 98 AC - 100 AC
Notes:
Hello again!!
I was supposed to have posted this yesterday but my internet has been testing me -_- Anyways...OMFG you guys reception of my story just blew me the f away!!! Honestly did not expect this many kudos and comments and bookmarks so soon with only 2 chapters, crying in the corner atm!!
So as a thank you and because I've no self-control, I'll be posting a new chapter :DIf it's a taste of unhinged Daemon you wish for. Here do have a taste pls... But just a little sample for now ;)
Reminder that English is not my first language, this is unbetaed and I've a serious case of dyslexia/ADHD, so if there's grammar mistakes and the narrative may seem confusing, I'm terribly sorry
Also the boards are made by me but all pictures I picked from pinterest, so all rights belong to their respective owners/editorsSee you for more explanations in the end notes
I hope you like this as well. Have fun!!
Edit 08/18: Here's the story tumblr and pinterest for the visuals/imagery - https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-2/
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Daemon Targaryen, infamously dubbed the Rogue Prince, lived his life as he saw fit. Not caring anymore to uphold the duty and decency his grandparents so devotedly tried to make be the legacy of their reign.
He would never stay in the Vale for long as not to give them the satisfaction to see him chained as they wished him to be; nor would he soil himself by bedding his ‘wife’ much less impregnating a unworthy woman of his seed. When his bronze bitch got on his nerves for long enough, Daemon would mount is sole true friend, his beloved Caraxes and fly away; just as dragons were meant to.
He would sample all the pleasures and freedoms life had to offer, from Westeros to Essos and back again. Travels, wine, whores and battles was the life he made for himself. Caraxes and Dark Sister was all Daemon needed to feel a sense of belonging, of having a home, wherever those two were that’s where would be Daemon’s home. His dragon, his ancestral sword and signet ring was all Daemon needed if he was not wanted by his own family.
Most of Essos were ecstatic of having a dragon flying around in their sky again. Magisters and the likes loved to house Daemon in their big mansions and give him all of the best if he would simply win them some battle or another, setting their enemies on fire. The common folk loved to watch Caraxes play on the sky, singing his songs with his whistling roars, and were in awe of the silver-haired prince who could mount the beast.
Once during his stay in Lys, wanting nothing more than to sample all the pleasures the famous pillow houses had to offer, the very wealthy Rogare family insisted for him to stay in one of their mansions. They gave him a safe haven, they gave him gold and they would sent the prettiest of Valyrian looking girls to his doorsteps. Daemon barely needed to leave the mansion when the young new Rogare patriarchy gave everything he needed in a silver platter, he only ever left when invited to go for dinners at the Rogare’s estate.
And by the end of his stay, Lysandro Rogare surprisingly asked nothing much in return but to put in a good word with the king about the Rogare Bank. Daemon agreed, just forgetting to mention how little his word was valued by his kingly grandsire or anyone else in the family, no one needed to know that. He even was gifted with a marvelous new armor by the man, the depiction of a red dragon all over the armor to represent his Caraxes, it was from really good material and made him look like one of the dragonlords of old.
It was when Daemon was once again staying on Essosi soil – after having had enough of the yapping of the Royce’s and no invitation to go back home –, offering his fighting skills to some petty squabble or another in one of the smallest cities just for the fun of it; he didn’t even need to use Caraxes, the lazy beast hiding away somewhere, only his sword necessary. That’s when he received news that death had come to claim another Targaryen.
News was hard to come by when so far away from home and more often than not, when it finally reached Essos it was distorted and not exactly the whole truth. Daemon did not know who from his family had died and so he finally had a taste of what it was really like to fear. His childhood experience of watching his mother whiter away and then be simply gone forever was more confusing than anything else and too muddied by now for him to really remember what it felt like then. The lesson of what death meant though had stuck with him since.
Daemon had faced many battles in a span of just a couple of years, intruding on battlefields he had no business being a part of if only to sate Dark Sister’s lust for blood. To sate his lust for blood and chaos, to fill the black hole in his soul with something. Daemon never feared when faced with hundreds of weapons aiming to kill him. But when faced with the possibility of losing his father or brother, of losing the niece he rarely saw, Daemon had known fear.
However when the prince was back on the shores of Westeros, after a relentless uninterrupted flight, it was when he found that it had been the young Princess Gael to have passed away. The wife he should have had. Daemon mourned for a moment the newest family loss, grieved over what could have been and was sad to know yet another Targaryen was lost.
Once he heard the whole truth of just how exactly that loss came to be though, vindication was suddenly all he could feel. Vindication and justice.
Vindication to see the Good Queen broken beyond repair by the loss, vindication to see the Wise King have yet another scandalous humiliation upon his hands. It was justice, Daemon thought, that the wife they denied him had been seduced, deflowered and left with a bastard child by a simpleton singer. If only they had seen reason, if only they had done right by both of them, if only they had not been spiteful towards their own blood, none of this would have happened.
It was the gods work, Daemon was sure, the Fourteen Flame that had delivered their justice upon the dragons who left behind their Valyrian ways, who were bowing down to andals and first men. Daemon just disliked it was his family to pay the price for the King’s and Queen’s sins. The two of them so worried about being monarchs, about pleasing sheep, that they forgot about being parents, about caring for their own blood.
Daemon did nothing to hide the gloating smirk once he faced his grandmother, saying through his eyes ‘see what your spite of me earned you?’, and when he leaned down faking to be giving his condolences to her Daemon could not avoid whispering a “I hope it was worth it not giving her to me” in their mother tongue. When days later the Good Queen departed to Dragonstone utterly devastated and broken, Daemon felt at home in the Red Keep in a way he had not in years.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The loss of another sibling made Prince Baelon see his mistake in allowing his son to stray so far from family, to be on distant lands risking his life, to be left adrift and all alone. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing, the family knew but would often forget, but now Daemon was reminding them again of it. Through all the spilled blood he left on his wake whenever he went, through the Crown’s coin he would carelessly spend on gambling dens, through fucking countless women, whore and ladies alike, as if they meant nothing.
He reminded Baelon of that fact when he recklessly put himself in constant danger, be it on a battlefield or on fighting pits unseemly for a prince to participate in.
“You’ve been much alone these last few years.” Baelon said one evening a couple days after his mother left, both son and father sharing a glass of wine on the prince’s solar in the Tower of the Hand. “Alone and angry.”
“And whose fault is that, I wonder?” Daemon bit back, fire dancing in his purple eyes, the same shade of color Baelon remembered being one of Alyssa’s eyes.
“I’ve failed you, son, you and your brother both… In my grief, I was selfish and left both of you to fend for yourselves much too often.” Baelon sighed, guilty a heavy cloak he constantly carried on his shoulders. “Alyssa would have been wroth to know I’ve treated her dear sons in such a way. But no more.”
Daemon looked up at his father and a feeling he hadn’t left reside in his heart in a long time crept its way in. Hope.
“I spoke to the King. You’re to stay here, no more traveling across the Narrow Sea, no more being away from home.” Baelon declared, a small smile gracing is sad features. “You will stay home from now on, son, with family.”
And just like that the black hole in his soul was filled, the emptiness in his heart no more. It was all Daemon ever wished for, to stay with his family, to belong home. For them to want him there.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
At only three name days, Rhaenyra Targaryen owned the whole Red Keep as if she was its Queen. She had everyone wrapped around her little finger, she received endless love, and gifts, and compliments, the delight of her family, their most precious jewel. But even in her young mind and heart, she felt there was something missing, that she did not have everything, that something crucial was missing in her life.
When Uncle Daemon reappeared in their lives was that Rhaenyra discovered what was missing. She could barely remember him in fact, just blurry flashes of the few times she saw the prince when he had visited before disappearing again, flashes her young mind could not even make out; she only knew of him through tales told by her mother, father and grandfather, and by the talks the people whispered thinking a mere child was inconsequential.
Uncle Daemon entered her life in a whirlwind of chaotic tales of adventures in faraway lands, of taking her on dangerous flights atop his fierce and dangerous dragon, of reckless plays and words not fit for a child. His laughter was the prettiest sound she ever heard, his face the most beautiful face, his spirit the only one to match the dormant fire in hers. Uncle Daemon quickly became her favorite person.
Rhaenyra’s parents were dragonless Targaryens, papa Baelon the only one to try cultivate her fledgling dragon heart but papa Baelon was a busy man and so it was not often he had the time to take Rhaenyra to the Dragonpit to see her own baby dragon and even less often to take her to the skies atop the great Vhagar. Uncle Daemon took on that role right away.
Until that moment, Rhaenyra knew only a few words in High Valyrian that papa Baelon and the dragonkeepers taught her. She only knew a few old tales about their ancestors, about Old Valyria that her kepa would tell her whenever he had the time to tuck her in bed. Rhaenyra knew very little what it really meant to be a Targaryen, to be a dragon, to be the blood of Old Valyria. Uncle Daemon showed it to her, taught her all the lessons she needed to learn about who they were, who she was.
Uncle Daemon spent countless hours of his day entertaining her, something Rhaenyra’s own parents sometimes forgot to do, busy as they were with their duties; kepa was often needed for his princely duties and muna often sick carrying her newest sibling. That only made Rhaenyra love her dear uncle more.
Days and weeks spent learning the language of their lost homeland, spent bonding with her dragon and flying on his dragon. Almost every night there was a new tale of his adventures or a tale about their ancestors and the dragonlords of old before bed; when he could not come, those were the nights Rhaenyra slept the worst. Uncle Daemon in just a few moons spoiled her rotten in attention, gifts, affection and made her think more than ever the world was hers.
It was thanks to Uncle Daemon’s presence Rhaenyra did not notice the dark mood that descended upon the Red Keep when the Good Queen died, it was thanks to him she did not know of the suffering and the pain wrought upon their family over that loss, and the loss of an unborn baby. Uncle Daemon shielded her from it all, protected her from harm, made sure her childhood happiness and innocence lasted a while longer.
For three years, Rhaenyra was the happiest child, she knew nothing but bright days, and she lived in no other way but in delight and smothered in love. Rhaenyra knew nothing of the cruelties of the world, she knew nothing of darkness, of pain, of blood, of tragedy and loss. She knew nothing of the evil that could touch people and wreak havoc on their lives… That was not to remain so for long.
Notes:
Sooo what are your thoughts?!??!?! Pls let me know if you liked it by giving kudos/comments okay
Character's ages by the time of this chapter
Rhaenyra - 3
Daemon - 19
Viserys - 23
Aemma - 18
Baelon - 43
Jaehaerys - 66
Alysanne - 64
(btw if i get any ages wrong its because i suck w numbers/math hahahhah)
So some details about this chapter:
I don't remember if its stated anywhere in canon when exactly Daemon claimed Caraxes, and my search didn't bring any results either so I'll be going w the assumption he claimed Caraxes sometime between 94-96AC. Also since he's supposed to be one of the most skilled/experienced warriors of his time I'll also go w the assumption he did a lot of fighting during the times he spent in Essos even prior to Viserys reign since there was virtually none to be had in Westeros. Baby boy craves chaos, let's give him that.
And yes, I'll die on the hill that Daemon & Gael should have been the match made, even if she would have likely ended up dead anyways. I'll also die on the hill that Baelon would have made a good king and not thrown the Targs down a cliff like his stupid son
I'll won't been focusing too much on Aemma's pregnancy problems because that's a topic that makes me uncomfortable for reasons. But I'll still touch on that ofc since is a important plot and also so I can highlight my suspicions on the matter yk maesters' conspiracy and all that
Oh almost forgot, some casting choices I've made:
Teen/Young adult!Daemon - Alexander Ludwig in Vikings (love the show and his character, his appearance as Bjorn seemed fitting in my mind for a Daemon)
Baelon - Linus Roache in Vikings (for consistency hahahaha)
Queen Alysanne - Glenn Close in The Lion in WinterI think that's all
Any questions/doubts/opinions pls sent a comment, i'm happy to discuss things!
See you in the next chapter!!
Chapter 4: Chapter Three: 101 AC - Part I
Notes:
Hey there!!
These had been some rough few days so I'll post this new chapter in case I have to take a little break okay
(- one of my dogs my oldest baby is very very sick, his chances of survival aren't good 😪 and the distress of the situation is triggering my chronic head pain constantly, so yeah in case I disappear I'll be grievingAnyways, thank you so much to everyone who gave kudos and left comments, it meant a lot in this trying time!!!!!
High Valyrian is in italics
I hope you like this one ;)
See you in the end notes
Edit 08/18: Story's tumblr and pinterest for visuals/imagery:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-3/
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Daemon was finally content, happy even. He was home, he was with family, he had very few responsibilities and more importantly he was needed.
Rhaenyra, his beautiful and precocious little niece, needed him to teach her the ways of their family, their legacy; she needed him to be the male presence in her life she had lacked so far. His little hatchling needed him just because she wanted and loved him so.
Aemma, his dear cousin and good-sister, needed him as the support lacking in her life to deal with the vipers spewing venom at her the longer she took to deliver a son, she needed him for the friendly company her own husband so often forgot to give her. And although said husband spurned Daemon now, Aemma was glad to have him around and Rhaenyra was elated with his constant presence.
Even his father needed him sometimes. When the burden of being heir was too much, when responsibilities wore him thin, Baelon needed his youngest son to force him to have a break. Daemon would take his father on flights, Vhagar and Caraxes gliding across the skies together, clearing the mind and soul of worries; he would sit down Baelon, forcing him to take a breath, pour them some wine and have jape about the people of the court on the ready. They would end up gossiping as if they were two old cronies, and those moments made the ever saddening older prince laugh ad heartily as he did when his granddaughter would be around.
The better days had finally come to Daemon at last, the future actually looked bright and right again.
Of course there was still some shitty days, most of them comprised of fighting with his brother. To Baelon dismay, for some reason, for the first time in their lives his sons were constantly butting heads, arguing and swearing at each other; he would always have to intervene, to remind them of what it meant to be brothers, of what sibling love was, of the meaning and importance of family. What the Crown Prince could not see was that both princes fought because one understood all of that too well while the other not enough.
Viserys had tempered down his envy of his little brother for so long, had tried his best to put it away but once Daemon came back into their lives and stole away even the love of his own daughter, Viserys could not hold it in any longer. Daemon had been their mother’s favorite child, Daemon was the fighter, the one to receive the rare proud glimmers in their father’s eyes whenever he won swordfights and tourneys, Daemon was the one to be knighted and given their family ancestral sword. Daemon was the one allowed to do as he pleased while Viserys was stuck with a heavy burden upon his shoulders.
Daemon had no qualms in been jealous of his older brother though. Yes, he did understood his place as a second son but that did not meant he had to like it; especially when the firstborn made a mockery of all that he was freely given. Viserys had been given a Valyrian wife, had become the Iron Throne heir’s heir, had been gifted a precious daughter and yet he took it all for granted when Daemon would have died and killed for such opportunities. Viserys barely gave Rhaenyra the light of day, he often left Aemma to fend for herself; he only cared about forcing pregnancies on her and entertaining the clowns of court.
And so both brothers argued and they fought but would always make peace and hug in the end, forgetting any grievances as fast as they appeared because the love for each other was bigger than anything else.
Despite that, Daemon was living his best life, he had almost everything he had always wanted. Even when he had to fly to the Vale and spend at least a fortnight there he did so without complaints; it was the compromise Baelon reached with King Jaehaerys to allow Daemon to permanently stay in court, no more exiles. Of course, neither men needed to know Daemon barely saw his bronze bitch of a wife, staying in the farthest part of her castle and only having his own hand to warm his nights.
Prince Baelon knew better though, he had finally understood the grave mistake his mother did in forcing that marriage, the mistake he did in not listening to his son and allowing that farce. But he knew his father well enough to know no annulment would be granted to Daemon during the reign of the Old King.
“As soon as I ascend the throne, I’ll annul this marriage, son.” Baelon promised during one of the many nights father and son shared cups of wine, just the two of them relaxing the day stresses away. “I apologized to have allowed this to happen. Alyssa and I were granted a marriage of love, your brother and sweet Aemma found the same in theirs, you should have a chance too. I’m sorry I did not see it sooner.”
“It’s no matter, father.” Daemon replied in a relieved tone, that was all he had wanted to hear ever since that dreadful day at the sept. “I know you’ll do right by me and our family once you are the king. Annul my sham of a marriage and betroth me to Rhaenyra, let us secure our family bloodline.”
Prince Baelon had eagerly nodded in agreement, proud that he son understood the need to keep the bloodline pure, the need to strengthen the Targaryen line. There was so few of them left to even fewer dragons. Besides, Baelon could not image doing the same to his beloved granddaughter that his parents did to so many of their daughters; he would keep her close and cherish her as she deserved, and he would give her to someone that would protect and love her at all costs.
Neither of them, from little Rhaenyra to the Old King, could have imagined though that tragedy was still lurking in the shadows, be it by design or simply fate, that soon all promises would be broken and those happy days would come to an end.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was a rainy night when Daemon received the news.
He was once again suffering his punishment of having to spend days on Runestone, missing the warmth of his niece and cousin presences, missing his nightly drinking with his father, and even missing the fights with his brother. A fortnight had passed already but the weather was too hostile for flying and so Daemon had to stay more days than he wished to.
He had just dined and was sipping some ale when the castle maester barged in on his chambers, paled faced as if he was about to meet the stranger himself.
“What is it?” Daemon asked harshly, hating the lack of respect everyone in that godforsaken place showed to him.
“A letter from the capitol just arrived, my prince.” The maester said, showing the wet piece of paper. “Dark words, I’m afraid.”
“What happened?” Daemon stood up in a flash, not liking the grey rat’s tone nor look of pity on his face.
“The Crown Prince, your father, has fallen gravely ill.”
Daemon muted out any more words coming from the man, not listening to the explanation of what happened, he only cared about getting back home.
He haphazardly threw on a tunic and cloak, picked up Dark Sister from beside the bed and ran out of the room; it wasn’t until he slipped on the wet stones outside and scratched the sole of his feet that Daemon noticed he forgot to put on some boots. By the time he reached the caves Caraxes usually chose as his lair, Daemon’s feet was bloodied and he was soaked from head to toe.
When Daemon reached Caraxes, the dragon was already awake and restlessly stomping on the ground, having felt his rider’s fear and feeling the omen of doom in the air.
One of the very first lessons as a dragon rider was to always avoid flying in the rain, it was highly dangerous but Daemon did not care and neither did Caraxes. He would make sure his rider reached their destiny fast and unscathed. Just as Caraxes did some years ago when his dear rider had felt that same fear and despair, he pushed the limits of a dragon and was relentless in his flight. If Daemon could be anymore grateful than he already was to have such a mount and love his dragon any more than he already did, he certainly would.
Dawn was breaking on the horizon when the Red Keep came into Daemon’s view, he did not bother flying to the Dragonpit and landed right in one of the castles courtyard. As soon as he was off Caraxes’ saddle, he ran not bothering about his hurt feet not the scandalized looks people threw his way.
“Where is he?!” Daemon exclaimed when bursting into Viserys chambers, startling the couple and sleeping little girl inside.
“Daemon!” Viserys was on his feet at once and quickly walked to his little brother, bringing him into his arm in a tight hug. ‘Oh Daemon, our father…”
“Where is father, Viserys?” Daemon asked again, not reciprocating the hug, a crazed look on his purple eyes over the possibility of being too late.
“He’s in his chambers.” He answered stepping back, a look of utter loss on his face making anger boil beneath Daemon’s skin. “ The maesters are doing the best they can but they’re not optimistic…”
“Fuck the maesters.” Daemon barked before turning and running to his father’s chambers.
“Is Uncle Daemon back, muña?” A four year old Rhaenyra sleepily asked, blurred vision only catching a glimpse of her favorite person. She had cried herself to sleep after Aemma as gently as possible explained her papa Baelon was sick and she wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. “Is he going to make papa Baelon better?”
Aemma swallowed the lump in her throat not knowing what to say to such childish innocence, not wanting to further shatter her little girl’s happy life. However, in just a matter of days all their lives would be shattered and changed forever.
--
Daemon refused to leave his father’s side for more than an hour, only leaving the tower of the hand when extremely necessary or when the King ordered him to so the maesters could do their work. He barely slept, only drinking some wine or water when his throat was parched raw from thirsty and he only ever nibbled on something when Aemma brought cakes Rhaenyra asked to be given to him.
On the fourth day after the hunt trip that brought a mighty dragon low; Daemon was leaving the royal wing to go to the tower of the hand, having left his father’s side briefly for a quick wash and to change into clean clothes, when he heard piercing screams coming from Rhaenyra’s chambers. With his heart on his throat thinking the worst was happening, he ran to the chamber and busted the door open.
“What is the meaning of this?!” He half screamed to the two maids and a septa that were trying to contain a screaming Rhaenyra, his niece wriggling her little arms and legs roughly in an attempt to hit the women.
“Kepus!” She screamed and through sheer force of will, got away from the hands trying to hold her still and ran to him, colliding into his legs and hiccupping pitiful cries soaking one his pants legs.
“My prince.” The septa was the one to answer while the two maids cowered in fear. “The Princess was ordered to stay in her chambers by her lord father but she refuses to comply.”
“And you dare to lay hands on a princess of the blood?” Daemon sneered at them, teeth flashing in a dangerous way. “Be glad I’m in no mood or else I would cut your hands off for the audacity.”
“They won’t let me see papa Baelon, Kepus!” Rhaenyra looked up at him, her whole face red from all the screaming and eyes swollen from the crying. “I want to see papa Baelon!”
“Of course, little dragon.” He smiled at her and picked her up in his arm. “Let us go see papa Baelon.”
Both Targaryen walked to their destination, paying no mind to the people stopping to bow and offer comforting words. With Rhaenyra securely snuggled in his neck, now breathing calmly again, Daemon entered the tower of the hand and frowned by the emptiness that greeted him. No one was lingering in the solar as he would often find, the place utterly silent, so he headed towards the bedchamber assuming it was the maesters’ doing to do their useless work in privacy.
When they entered the bedchamber, the newest Grand Maester Runcinter was about to give the Crown Prince one of the potions they regularly fed him in the last days but as soon as the prince saw his granddaughter in the arms of his son he dismissively waved the man away.
“I brought a special visitor.” Daemon said with a smile seeing as his father lit up, pale sick complexion almost drastically changing.
“My little delight.” Baelon whispered in a hoarse voice. “How I’ve missed you so.”
“Papa Baelon! Papa Baelon” Rhaenyra exclaimed loudly beside Daemon’s hear, smile wide and happy, little hands instinctively reaching out towards her bedridden grandfather.
Daemon sat on the bed and put Rhaenyra down who quickly climbed over the older Targaryen’s chest, hugging with as much force as her little arms had. Baelon cooed soothing words on his granddaughter’s hair, hugging her tight, not caring about the pain nor the maesters protests about the interruption on their daily treatments. Daemon sneered at the men as well, daring them to interrupt their family time with their useless teas and whatever nonsense they like to prattle about.
If he wasn't so afraid to leave his father side, afraid to blink and lose the man who meant the whole world to him, Daemon would have mounted Caraxes and flown to the Free Cities to bring back actual competent healers. Whatever the maesters were claiming to be doing was clearly not working, if that was their best in healing a person Daemon shuddered to think what could their worst be.
Both princes were so engrossed on that light moment of having Rhaenyra chattering animatedly about everything her papa Baelon was missing of her days, a balm to them after such dark days, that they failed to see the maesters discreetly hiding away some of the vials. They failed to see the unmarked vials of liquids and powders not meant for healing the maesters stored away in their grey robes before quietly leaving the bedchamber.
Rhaenyra compensated all the days she was kept away from her grandfather in those morning and afternoon hours spent tucked by his side. She prattled on and on about everything and anything, the three of them ate a meal together and then had afternoon tea together, Rhaenyra hand feeding pieces of their favorite lemon cake to her grandfather. That was the healthiest Baelon looked ever since the hunt trip, his cheeks gained some color again, his eyes sparkling with life once more and he barely felt any pain.
Daemon thought that meant his father was going to get better, that death would not come to one of theirs again. He thought things would be alright.
Once Rhaenyra fell asleep when the sun was almost entirely gone, leaving one of the tales about her flights on Caraxes with Daemon unfinished, Baelon was truly feeling good for the first time in days and said so to his son; both sharing on a hopeful smile and words. Daemon took his niece back to her chambers with little to no worries after harrowing days.
He could not imagine that as soon as he was out of sight, leaving the Crown Prince alone and unattended for, the maesters would be back with their wicked ways and evil plans. Secret vials at the ready for one last lethal dose.
--
Late into the night, King Jaehaerys found his youngest grandson again asleep slumped over Baelon’s bed, head resting on top of their joined hands on the little space afforded by Baelon’s left side, shoulders hunched over in a relaxation Jaehaerys came to realize in the past couple days only appeared during Daemon’s sleeping hours.
As soon as the king laid a hand on his shoulder for a gentle shake, Daemon shot up in the chair looking around frenzied.
“Go have some hours of sleep on your own bed, Daemon.” The King said when the boy calmed down, relief washing over his features upon seeing his father just peacefully asleep.
“No, I’ve slept enough.” He lied with a straight face and then scooted his chair closer to the bed, and kept clutching at his father’s hand. “I’ll stay.”
Jaehaerys only nodded before walking to his son’s other side and sitting in the chair, picking Baelon’s other hand to tightly hold it as well. The old king hoped it had not been his imagination the way Baelon seemed to respond to the touch, weakly reciprocating the squeeze despite been in a deep sleep.
Daemon and the king stayed there by Prince Baelon’s side for the rest of the night; in the first hour or so, both Targaryen sat in a comfortable silence, the man between them squeezing back their hands every now and then.
“He was better today.” Daemon broke the silence. The king and Viserys had only briefly visited the chambers awhile after Rhaenyra left and Daemon came back, but Baelon was already asleep. Viserys did not return though. “Rhaenyra’s visit lightened his spirits.”
“So I’ve heard.” The king said, an almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips for half a second. “That was good of you to do. He had missed his little delight.”
“Family should never be a part.” Daemon said solemnly, intently gazing at his father when he felt a squeeze in his hand as if in agreement.
“No, it never should be so.” The king also agreed and Daemon almost scoffed at that.
They fell silent again for a while more until King Jaehaerys started singing a Valyrian dragonsong. It was the song passed down from generations of dragonlords, a way to calm and bond with a dragon; it was the song Alysanne sang as a lullaby to all their children, it was the song Jaehaerys taught both of his sons for their claiming of a dragon. The same song Baelon sang to his sons from the first moment of their lives. It was Alyssa’s favorite song.
Daemon laid his head again on the bed, cheek pressed to Baelon’s hand and he fell asleep like that again, now soothed by his grandfather’s singing and his father’s warm skin, fingers holding on to Daemon’s own. He slept peacefully until there was no more singing filling the air and no more warm skin, until only coldness touched his face and a hand was slacked on his.
On the dawn of the 13th day of the 7th moon of 101 AC, Daemon Targaryen woke up to a weeping king and a dead prince.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Daemon stood by his father side even after death. He stood in a corner in the bed chamber watching while the maesters did their work and when people came to take the body he followed. He stood in a corner in the cold heavy scented smelling chamber where the Silent Sisters did their work, preparing his father’s corpse to the funeral pyre.
When time came to take the body to be put on the casket for the procession through the city, Daemon was the one to do it and the one to ride at the head of the procession. And it was Daemon to pick again the body of his father and put on top of the pyre erected on a high and large hill some distance away from the city.
King Jaehaerys and Prince Viserys locked themselves in their rooms to mourn in solitude in those hours, leaving Daemon once again adrift all by himself and leaving a bereft Aemma to bear the cries of a confused child.
Rhaenyra could not fully grasp the concept of death, she could not fully understand why she would never again see papa Baelon, and so she cried and begged her mother to tell it was a lie and she could go see papa Baelon again that day. Her father and uncle were nowhere to be seen until it was time to get in the carriage for the procession and when she saw them it was as if they were not even really there; Rhaenyra’s clung to her mother for dear life, her only support through those dark moments.
It wasn’t until Vermithor, the king’s great bronze fury, breathed fire on the pyre at its rider’s command and Rhaenyra saw her beloved grandfather turn to nothing but ashes that her young mind understood what death meant. When Daemon was almost caught in the blast of fire for being too close to the pyre, Rhaenyra let out a scream in fear death would come to claim her Uncle too and hid her face into her mother’s neck, sobbing loud cries.
A huge shadow passed over them then, obscuring the sun for a moment, Vhagar flew over roaring a goodbye to its rider.
Rhaenyra looked up, vision blurred from tears, and watched Vhagar fly away singing the saddest song a dragon could sing; a song of loss and heartache. It filled the air of King’s Landing until the immense dragon was a small dot on the horizon. It was only then Daemon could not hold his tears any longer, silently crying with none the wiser; his father had always seemed larger than life but now he was just ashes in the wind.
Rhaenyra’s heart broke for the first time at only four years of age. It was her first taste of true loss, her first taste of having her heart and life broken to pieces. The prince and princess did not know yet but they would drink from that poisoned glass so many more times they would get used to the taste of it.
Notes:
What you guys think?!??!?! Leave kudos&comments in case you liked it pls pls pls
Due this awful mood I'm going through, I wont liger much in the obs about the chapter, maybe in the next update I may expand on my opinions/etc
So as tagged, I'll be going the route of the maesters' conspiring to destabilize/weaken/cause harm-illness/straight up murder the Targ family cause GRRM left too many interesting clues all over it's hard to ignore. And conspiracy theory is just fun ^^`
Maybe Prince Baelon really just had a burst belly (appendicitis) and the maesters didn't had advanced medical skills/tools to treat it, maybe they made it worse instead of treating it, maybe it was something else entirely and the burst burst belly was just the cover up. I always leaned towards the latter two options 🤷🏾♀️
Characters' ages by the end of this chapter
Rhaenyra - 4
Daemon - 20
Viserys - 24
Aemma - 19
Baelon - 44
Jaehaerys - 67
Next up we have the succession issue, Viserys x Rhaenys (or more like almost everyone x Rhaenys) 🫣 and I did my own little twists to it that I thought would be a bit more interesting and somewhat a newish take to it ^^`
See you on the next one :D
Chapter 5: Chapter Four: 101 AC Part II - The Order of Things
Notes:
Well, hello there :)
Not much to do this Saturday so decided to update the new chapter.
I'm really nervous to know what you guys think of what I did here!!A new character is entering the chat *dun dun dun*
As I mentioned on the last chapter, in this one we have the Viserys x Rhaenys succession "issue" but w a little twist to it and hopefully you'll like it!!
Also here is where I start to slowly set the canon on fire alright 😌Reminder that english is not my mother tongue so apologies for mistakes.
I made the moodboard but the pictures are not mine, I picked them from pinterest so all rights of each picture belong to its respective ownersWithout delays...
Fun reading ;D
Edit 08/18: Story's tumblr and pinterest for visuals/imagery:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-4/
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
A fortnight had passed since the death of Prince Baelon the Brave, the Spring Prince and the Red Keep remained in mourning. Gloominess and sadness clung heavy to the air of the keep; lords, courtiers and servants alike almost always silent, daring to speak only in low voices. Despair though was what surrounded the prince’s family. There was no talking with each other, no more smiles nor laughs, only sorrow and tears.
King Jaehaerys and Prince Viserys stoically kept on doing their duties to the realm, appearance always something too important to them, only allowing themselves to mourn in the solitude of their bedchambers. Prince Daemon barely stayed in the keep, losing himself in the bowels of the city’s underbelly; drinking into oblivion, fucking and fighting to exhaustion always his way of coping.
Aemma stayed most of the time in her daughter’s chamber, giving her husband his space and trying her best to console her heartbroken daughter; she kept her grief to herself, hiding it away as not to burden anyone. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen stayed close by in case either of her cousins needed a shoulder, she understood well what it was too lose a father and have life turned upside down because of it.
Daemon was always absent – ever only making quick appearances to give Viserys a brief hug and Rhaenyra a kiss – but Viserys did seek her sometimes when grief was too much for him to bear alone; still Rhaenys mostly kept Aemma company in watching over the distressed little girl.
Despite her grievances over been passed over as heir in favor of her uncle, Rhaenys would have never wished for his death nor could she have imagined such sturdy and healthy man was going to so suddenly fall deathly ill. Her father had loved his baby brother dearly, Baelon had been Aemon’s favorite sibling and Rhaenys had grown up closer to her uncle’s family than any other members of their family save Queen Alysanne. She knew if it had been the other way around and Baelon had died before Aemon, her father would have been as devastated as Baelon was when his older brother was killed.
Rhaenys had had grievances when her uncle took her position so easily without any protests knowing very well Aemon made her his heir and wanted for her to be queen – although deep down Rhaenys knew that desire of his had waned greatly once she defiled his words and married Corlys Velaryon – but now there was no point in any ill feelings about it, her uncle was gone forever just as her father was.
In any case, King Jaehaerys’ was to blame, he had been the one to pull the rug under Rhaenys’ feet so soon after her loss. All for the pleasing of his council, for the pleasing of the Faith and the lords who saw women as inferior; she knew she would have a great battle against their narrow-minded views when she sat the throne but her father and grandmother had prepared her for that. The Old and Wise King though had not been prepared for change.
So Rhaenys focused in being supportive of her uncle’s family, be there for them in their hour of need as they had been there for her as well when she became orphan of both father and mother. She never had any grievances against her cousins, both just as young and powerless as her when her humiliation took place, and while watching Vermithor’s flames burn her uncle's body she let any bad feeling for her uncle be a thing of the past.
But she still kept her anger towards the king shimmering beneath her skin.
--
Over a moon had passed after the death of Prince Baelon when the king summoned Rhaenys to the throne room.
She had been preparing to leave King’s Landing soon, her small children in need of their mother and her heart missing the home she made in Driftmark and her husband; Corlys though had suggested she stay for as long as possible, in waiting for what the king would decide about who would be his new heir. Rhaenys did not expect that decision to be a quick affair, she expected for the king to spend some more moons in deep discussion with his council, and maybe even then they may not reach a unanimous decision and would need some external help.
There was already whispers around the keep that perhaps there would be some voting event, to allow contenders to put their names forth and the lords of the realm to decide who they wanted as their heir. Knowing the ways of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator in these last years, Rhaenys thought that the most likely to happen. She would rather be with her children in the meantime.
To her surprise though, the Old King had come to a decision already even if his councilmen and his remaining living son did advice for a great council to be done. He summoned her to the throne room, just the two of them and his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he sat atop his iron chair wearing his golden crown and weary saddened expression on his face. Not surprising to her but utterly disappointing and frustrating, once again King Jaehaerys decided to dealt Rhaenys another humiliation; at least this time no one was a witness to the affair.
“I know it was a hard thing for you to not be made heir.” Her old decrepit grandfather started when she stopped just a few steps away from the chair’s first blades. “Aemon only had you as a child and he loved you very much. You were his heir and he wanted you to be queen after him, I understood that and accepted his decision as was his right as the heir at the time. But I’ve always known the hardships that would befall this family once I was gone and the lords were faced with a female heir and the prospect of being ruled over by a woman.”
Rhaenys wanted to scream, she wanted to run up to that damned throne and bash the old man’s skull into one of those ugly blades. She gritted her teeth and baled her hands into firsts, swallowing her desire to throttle her own grandfather, her desire to set the whole damn city ablaze as payment. The perverse man even dared to look sad as if he did not enjoyed humiliating and demeaning women just as any other man of his ilk.
“I chose Baelon as my heir because it was the wisest decision to do, the one with a better outcome. He was a man grown with a male heir of his o…”
“I have a male heir of my own too.” Rhaenys interrupted him without qualms, anger running hot in her veins. “Your very first great-grandchild, should you remember.”
“Yes but Laenor is a child still.” The king retorted without losing a beat, expression changing into one of wariness. “I will not live for much longer. If I was to make him heir it would be many years before he could take the crown, you would still be the one to wear it in the interim and present the same issue was I to make you the heir. Besides, I do not trust your husband, he’s too ambitious and would no doubt want to rule in either his son’s or yours stead. You may have been blind to Lord Corlys true intents and allowed yourself be seduced by him but Aemon knew better than trust the man. And so do I.”
“He was the most advantageous match for me, the heir’s heir.” Rhaenys said defensively. “He’s of Valyrian blood, he’s the richest man and has the largest armada of the realm. He brought more power to this family and the crown thanks to me.”
“No child. You gave power to the Velaryons.” Jaehaerys now looked over her with disappointment etched on his face, shaking his head at her lack of sight. ‘A dragon topples all of that and much more. You gave him that. In turn he cloaked you in Velaryon colors and guaranteed his own ascension… If you were to be queen and your children’s children long after you it would be with the Velaryon name, ending our family line in the throne Aegon Targaryen build. I’ll not have it.”
“Then what, Your Grace?” She asked mocking at the tittle. “You will make Viserys, weak and foolish as he is, the next king? Or Daemon with his penchant for reaping destruction? Does His Grace really think that would be any better?”
“To guarantee a Targaryen upon the Iron Throne. To guarantee peace and stability to the realm… Yes, it will.” King Jaehaerys declared with a final tone and stood up, still looking an imposing king despite his age, physical and emotional weariness. “The mourn period for my son will last for a couple more moons and when it’s over, Prince Viserys will be declared the new heir.”
“You’re making a mistake.” Rhaenys said through gritted teeth, body shaking with how much anger she was holding in.
“Go back to Driftmark, to spend this time with your husband and children, Rhaenys. Talk to Lord Corlys, quash his and your ambitions for the throne for good… Do not think of doing something foolish, do not allow your husband to do anything either. You are my grandchild, you are blood and family but I’ll not tolerate dissent nor in-fighting on my reign.” He sounded cold and threatening when saying those words, looking on a teary-eyed Rhaenys with detachment. “This is the order of things, child. It’s time you accept that.”
“No wonder you lost more than half of your children… It was the gods’ punishment on earth for all the hurt and pain you cause to your own family. It’s time you see that.”
Princess Rhaenys turned her back on King Jaehaerys before he could hurl anymore hurting words towards her and walked out of there with her head held high. It was not until she was in the safety of her childhood bedchambers, utterly alone, that she allowed the tears to fall and the screams to come. Why should this be the order of things? Why should women suffer on the hands of men? Why shouldn’t they have anything they desire as men often had?
If she had been queen she would have changed this dark life women were forced to live, she would have created a new order of things. She would have been a great Queen. But despite the pain and anger and humiliations, Rhaenys had to concede that the Old King was right. This was the order of things and she would have to accept it. She would have to make sure Corlys understood that as well. For the safety of her children, she would.
She would not lose her children for the chance at an empty tittle and even emptier life, at the chance of sitting on a throne that only destroyed everything around it. She would not be like her grandfather and grandmother, sacrificing her family and everything that truly mattered in life to simply wear a crown and call herself the ruler of the realm. It was not worth it, Rhaenys thought with finality once she shed all the tears she had to shed.
When night fell, Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys were long gone from Kings Landing.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was the hour of the nightingale when Prince Daemon Targaryen was found half unconscious in one of the seediest taverns of Flea Bottom by four knights sent by his kingly grandfather. Two Kingsguard and two guards of the Red Keep were sent out to scour the city in search for the so often missing prince; it was not until well into the night that any useful tips had finally slipped the lips of some citizens.
White and red billowed in the wind while the guards dragged the prince through dark streets and darker alleys, the young man finally resurfacing from Flea Bottom after almost four days losing himself there. Daemon was in and out of consciousness the whole way back to the keep, vision blurred and mind dizzy from all the drinking and other foreign Essosi substances sold in those places.
The guards had been instructed by the king to lock the prince in his chambers so he would sleep the intoxication away in the safety of his own bed.
It was still morning when Daemon fully woke by vomiting all over the floor, all that he had gorged himself with the last days burning its way out of him leaving his throat raw and an awful acrid taste in his mouth. The guard stationed at the door was alerted by the sounds and called in for the servants to come deal with the prince’s mess. It still took a good hour for Daemon’s fugue like state to pass, the litany of servants coming and going from his chambers a blur to his mind.
Once he had been scrubbed clean in a bath and dressed in fresh clothes befitting his station, the last thing the servants did was leave a plate with light food on one of the tables. Feeling a bit better Daemon nibbled on some bread and fruit, still feeling his stomach revolting itself, and gulped down a whole jug of water. He was about to leave his chambers to go pay a visit to his sister-in-law and niece – the only people left that did not judge him in anyway and actually cared for him still – when one of the kingsguard came to fetch him.
King Jaehaerys has summoned his family to the throne room.
Half way there they encountered with Viserys and Aemma heading the same way, as expected Viserys glared at him with disapproval and frustration but did not say any of what he was certainly wishing to yell at Daemon. Aemma just gave him a kind smile, patting his shoulder in soft gesture and asking if he was alright, telling how Rhaenyra missed her uncle. Not for the first time Daemon thought about how gentle and loving Aemma was wasted on his fool of a brother.
When the three Targaryen royals entered the throne room, the heavy door closing behind them with a loud thud, they found the king in the same position he was the previous day to meet with Rhaenys.
“Is cousin Rhaenys coming as well?” Prince Viserys asked after they all offered a bow to the king.
“No, Rhaenys left to Driftmark last night. It was time for her to go back home.”
Daemon narrowed his eyes, studying the old man expressions and body closely, trying to quickly gouge whatever he might want to talk to them so he could be ready. With this news of his cousin haste leave in the middle of the night without seemly saying no goodbye to no one but the king could mean only one thing, Daemon’s mind was puzzling the logical pieces.
“You’ve decided on a new heir.” He let his mouth say the words before catching up with his mind.
“Daemon…” Viserys started in a warning tone.
“You were always a very perceptive child.” The king said with a nod of approval. “Just like Alyssa.”
“Viserys is to be heir then, Your Grace?” Daemon asked in more of an affirmative than a real question.
“Grandsire, certainly you have not reached a decision already.” Viserys said looking almost panicked and Daemon had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “What about the great council the lords have been speaking about? Wouldn’t that be a better way to decide?”
“The idea Vaegon suggested and the Grand Maester and my new Hand backed as the sensible decision has its merits, true.” The King answered, donning on his famous diplomatic face and voice. “But it also has some cons that could become troublesome in the long run. Many a overreaching lord would bring forth their names, it would be all too easy for houses to be angered and feelings of dissent to fester. So I decided to choose as I did when Prince Aemon died.”
“By law and precedent you as the firstborn son was Baelon’s heir. To avoid conflicts and secure the stability of the realm, you Viserys will be named my new heir.” King Jaehaerys concluded.
“Tha-that’s… It is a great honor, You Grace. I'm deeply thankful, truly.” Viserys blustered and blushed as if he was a green boy entering a whorehouse for the first time.
This time Daemon did roll his eyes; here his brother was once again easily and freely gaining everything a man could wish for and that was how he chose to act? Their grandfather though seemed pleased by Viserys hollow pleasantries and his humbleness. Pathetic, Daemon thought venomously.
“You have been shadowing Baelon steps since he became the heir and my Hand, learning direct from him and the council meetings you have attended. I’ve no doubts you will learn to become a good ruler.”
“I just have done my best to do my duties, grandsire. I promise to do even better now with such greater duty.” Viserys said more confidently, preening under the king’s praising words.
“Good, my boy, good.” Their grandfather nodded his approval and then set his eyes on both Daemon and Aemma. His sister-in-law instinctively clutched at his arm, both knowing whatever the old man had to say to them would not be as pleasant as what he said to Viserys. “Now that Viserys will be King sooner than expected and you will be his Queen Consort, it’s imperative more than ever for you to birth a son, Aemma.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Aemma said in a low voice, looking down in shame and almost shrinking in on herself. “The new acolyte assisting Grand Maester Rucinter suggested we give my body a few more moons to heal better so it can be healthy to produce a new child.”
“That’s why we’ve been waiting to start trying again. But the Maesters have been very optimistic.” Viserys supplied, gently patting his wife’s hand atop his forearm. “Maester Mellos even has requested some new teas from the Citadel he says it will help.”
“Good. As heir to the crown you will need an heir of your own.” The king said with finality, as if the couple did not have a healthy child already and that dismissiveness made Daemon grit his teeth in anger. “As the future Queen, you need to do better Aemma. It’s your duty to your husband and to this family and now your duty to the realm.”
“Yes, Your Grace, I will.” Daemon cringed at Aemma’s little voice, head still bowed down and not daring looking at anyone, and he could easily imagine her eyes teary and despondent expression.
Did none of them see, those useless maesters included, that Aemma’s body had not been properly prepared to birth children being half a child herself? Daemon was no great scholar of medicine or the human body but he traveled plenty enough to have learned impregnating young girls was not ideal. His short time in one of the Free Cities has given him the opportunity to hear the ways healers from some parts of Essos saw things in a entirely different way from Westeros grey rats.
They should all be grateful she was able to birth a healthy Rhaenyra instead of dismissing the lively and beautiful Valyrian child they have in their hands.
“Until such a time as your wife brings forth a son, Daemon will be your heir.” King Jaehaerys declared to Viserys who barely contained a sour expression. “Which bring us to the shameful matter of your recent behavior.”
“I’ve been grieving the loss of my father, Your Grace.” Daemon said clenching his jaw, Aemma’s fingernails sinking into his skin the only thing keeping him from an outburst.
“So has Viserys. We do not have to lower ourselves to go scrape him off the dirty floors of Flea Bottom, do we?”
“Everyone mourn in their own ways.” The young prince repeated what Queen Alysanne said to him years back when he was utterly confused by his father’s actions following the death of Prince Aemon. It was utter delight to see old Jaehaerys blanch at those words.
“You have to find better ways, Daemon. You’re not anymore just a mere prince, the second son of a second son, you will be the brother of a king and his heir… You need to put yourself together and act as a man. The time to be a child is over.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Of course, Your Grace.” Daemon said in a mix of obedience and mock, giving both king and his brother reason to shoot daggers his way. Aemma dug her nails deep into his arm, the tunic the only barrier avoiding her to draw blood, her silent way to plead him not to be stupid and get himself exiled. He squared his shoulder and put on a blank expression and voice. “I’ll do better, grandsire.”
“Be sure to do it.” The old king hissed before schooling his features. “I’ve already spoken with your cousin, hopefully neither she nor her husband will present troubles to the crown. In a couple more moons, after the mourning period is over, we will assembly the court to officially declare you Viserys the new Heir and Prince of Dragonstone. Start readying your household to move to the island.”
All three nodded, Daemon feeling a wave of relief to soon be away from the Red Keep; he had always preferred the family’s ancestral seat anyways. His relief and plans to reacquaint himself with every cranny of the keep was quickly squashed by the king’s next words.
“You are to return to Runestone as soon as your brother’s investiture is done, Daemon.”
“What?” Daemon asked baling his first, anger fast boiling up.
“You also have a duty to this family, Dae…”
“Yes, a duty to stay by my family’s side. A duty to protect and defend my family.” Daemon interrupted the king in a loud voice. “I’m the sword and shield that will protect Viserys when he ascends the throne, that’s my duty.”
“Your duty is whatever I command you to do.” King Jaehaerys raised his voice as well, standing up. “Years of marriage and what do you have to show from it? Nothing. The Targaryen line is dwindling by the minute, it’s all three of you and soon Rhaenyra’s as well responsibility to secure our bloodline.”
“You want me to secure the Targaryen bloodline by breeding a sheep?” He retorted with fury etched on his face.
“That is the marriage alliance your grandmother made and that will be the marriage you will honor. This is an order, Prince Daemon. You will go back to Runestone and do your husband duties.”
Daemon chuckled, mischief glinting in his purple eyes.
“You better lay down to wait for that, Your Grace, it will be a long waiting.”
“Daemon.” Viserys once again tried warning his little brother.
“No!" Daemon exclaimed in a tone dangerously close to a scream, expression darkening in fury "I'm done listening to this bullshit! I’ll not breed that bronze bitch. I'll not honor this farce of a marriage.” He said and then let an evil smirk splay on his lips. “I’ll rather have Caraxes feast on my flesh before I waste Valyrian blood, dragon seed, in a worthless bitch. Do it your fucking selves.”
Before the king or his new heir had the chance to further say anything, yell and try to order Daemon to do their bidding, he turned his back on them and made his way out of the throne room. The thunderous voice of King Jaehaerys’ shouts of anger echoed in the large room for the first time in many many years.
As quick as he always did, Daemon kissed his little niece goodbye before disappearing in one of the secret passageways of the Red Keep and make his way towards the Dragonpit.
When night fell, Prince Daemon and his beloved dragon Caraxes were long gone from Kings Landing. Dragon and rider flying towards Essos once more.
Notes:
So what do you think?!?!?!?!?! Hit me with your thoughts!! Leave comments&kudos if you liked it pls pls pls pls
(if you did not like and your thoughts are nasty dont borther)
Let's get into a bit more about this chapter ^^'
I'll start by saying that I honestly will never get the point of the Great Council of 101. It really just served as a way to prove that the Targaryen reign/dynasty was weak and of course to humiliate Rhaenys more to set an awful precedent for women (especially for Rhaenyra ofc) *facepalms*
By the realm lords precious precedent and law, if Baelon was made the heir then logical outcome when he died was for his heir to become the new heir. Like why there was even a discussion to begin with? Just my personal opinion thoAnyways... So, about Rhaenys (and the Velaryons in general) the book and show versions differ a lot. The show really tried to lean into them being somewhat more 'good' than the grey characters they are in the book.
Though what they did w Corlys actually worked for me (i really hate his guts on the book), the show Rhaenys was just bleh. I mean, she did have some iconic lines (and I even stole one here) but overall for me she was just like, standing there hahahahahah
Im not exactly a fan of the book!Velaryons and did not entirely liked the show!Velaryons so I'll be leaving them on the grey area.
My Rhaenys though wont be on the same level of bitterness/anger/hate canon!Rhaenys seems to be because here she was not publicly humiliated in a awfully large scale in that council farce. And I'll be switching laena and laenor's birth for plot reasons, laenor will be the older one born in 92ACI totally think logical for Jaehaerys to have said something about the fact Daemon is supposed to be Viserys heir until there's a son cause knowing what we know of bigoted Jae he certainly wouldn't let another man of his family think right to raise a daughter to think she can inherit shit
Besides I did it just so Daemon can have an actual legitimate oficial reason to believe he is the heir apparent to his brother and not just some ambitious desire of his as canon sometimes makes it sound like -_- (and ofc to show Viserys true colors when it comes to his brother, the little shit)
And yeah, Daemon be very 'fuck that, fuck you, no filters i give zero fucks' vibe cause its hes best versionMy fan casting for the characters: (lets just be creative and imagine they all have the Valyrian traits)
Daemon, 20 - Alexander Ludwig in Vikings
Viserys, 24 - Joseph Morgan as Klaus in the originals (idk i thought he resembled paddy a little to be the younger version)
Aemma, 19 - Clemence Poesy
Rhaenys, 27 - Eva Green (i'm going w her book appearance cause i always imagined eva as her)Alright let me stop unnecessarily rambling
See you in the next one ;D
Chapter 6: Chapter Five: 102 AC to 103 AC - The Heirs of the Dragon
Notes:
Hello here's another update!
The longest chapter yet! Which brings me to a question: Do you guys like long chapters?
I love reading long chapters but I always fear writing a chapter that is too long and boring/not enjoyable for people. I need to know if you guys like or not because the next chapters are getting really long, just the year 104AC i had to divide in 3 parts so far and there's still plenty to write on that year!
So I want to know if I need to worry about the chapters length or if I can go wildI'll be honest, I'm not satisfied w the first half of this chapter, I wrote it while going to work and the back home so yeah it ended up a mess and I edited and tried to improve but I'm still meh about it. The last half though I had two consecutive nights of fun writing it ;)
Aaaaand the snake makes his first appearance *vomit noises*
Anyways... I've been preparing a few things for this fic since like the first chapter I think and I'll put it on the end notes.
Thank you all for the kudos, comments and bookmarks!! I'm still in awe of this amazing reception to this story. It means a lot to me, thanks so much!!
Have a fun reading ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Viserys Targaryen, the newly declared heir to the Iron Throne, tried to divide is time as evenly as possible between Kings Landing and his new seat Dragonstone; different from the previous heir since he did not have the same heavy duties as his father had as also Hand of the King. Though he did not like staying at Dragonstone as much as the rest of his family seemed to because there he had to learn the intricacies of ruling and politics – and do the actual ruling – all by himself while in Kings Landing he had the king and the councilmen to guide his steps.
The new Hand, Otto Hightower, in particular provided Viserys with not only good advice on politics but also friendship. In the absence of both father and brother, the young prince and heir felt terribly alone and in need of companionship; the young Hightower made sure to provide exactly what Viserys needed.
Unlike her father though, Princess Rhaenyra loved Dragonstone, she and her hatchling thrived there in a way it was not possible for them to do in the constricting walls of the Red Keep. For her fifth name day she boldly asked to stay at Dragonstone permanently as a gift. Thinking it more prudent to leave their little girl in a single place instead of doing the arduous trips back and forth – or in the case of Aemma dreading the prospect of leaving her little girl alone in court while they were away –, the young parents decided to allow her to stay in Dragonstone.
In his prime, King Jaehaerys would have never allowed such thing for a female child but his was a feeble and sick old man now and the advice from his Hand was compelling enough to convince him.
Aemma tried to stay as much as possible in Dragonstone as well, to keep her daughter company and see her grow, but also because the island suited her better for pregnancy. While in the Red Keep she had two miscarriages before her belly even began to properly swell and a stillbirth due the distress Queen Alysanne’s death caused, in Dragonstone she birthed a delightful little girl. Aemma could not avoid thinking it was thanks to the air of their family ancestral home, the solitude and distant from the poisonous court that had allowed her 14 year old body to have a successful pregnancy and delivery.
Rhaenyra had been born healthy in the island so maybe the next child would too.
Even with the freedom she gained away from court and the happiness she reacquired, Rhaenyra still did not feel whole. She still missed her papa Baelon an awful lot even if her memories of him had started to get blurred at the edges. And an important piece was missing from her life once more, her Uncle Daemon far away in foreign lands. Despite his absence, Rhaenyra kept her Valyrian studies and was determined to bond and ride her young dragon as soon as she was big enough to saddle; she thought that that may make her Uncle Daemon so proud he would come back to her.
It was during one of her reading time, a thick and old Valyrian tome about her people’s religion before her, that Rhaenyra decided upon the name of her dear hatchling. Her dragon was to be Syrax, after one of the goddess of Valyria. The young yellow dragon beneath the table curled at her feet chirped in approval when her future rider called her that beautiful name.
By the end of the year 102 AC, Rhaenyra’s mother arrived again on Dragonstone to stay for good this time instead of just a few weeks visit.
The future Queen had convinced her husband that it would be better to stay on their family island for her new pregnancy, that it would be better for the heir’s heir to be born on the island of their dragonlords ancestors. Prince Viserys wasn’t pleased to be parted from his pregnant wife nor to lose the birth of his possible son, his friend Otto and the maesters also fearing for Aemma’s well-being staying away like that, but he also thought that perhaps they would have better chances for another living child if the birth took place in Dragonstone. Just like Rhaenyra’s did.
The little girl was ecstatic with the news she would have a sibling, someone her own age to be her companion, someone she could teach all that Uncle Daemon had taught her. Rhaenyra barely remembered the first time her mother’s belly really swelled with a baby and she certainly did not know of the blood that coated Aemma’s thighs twice with lost babies.
Upon hearing everyone around the gloomy keep whispering that this baby needed to be born a boy, an heir to her father, Rhaenyra told her mother one morning during breakfast that they ought to name the baby as Rhaegar, after his older sister. Aemma laughed loudly and freely as she only could do there and promised her little girl to give the new baby the name she chose.
Mother and daughter had the best of time while in Dragonstone, they would spend all hours of the day together. Mother and daughter would play on the beach when the weather was good, both always coming back to the castle completely wet from swimming on the sea, and they would particularly spend most of the time on Aegon’s Garden. Aemma had strike a liking for gardening and was intent on teaching Rhaenyra as well even if she and Syrax would often crush the flowers with their playing.
The garden hadn’t flourished so beautifully in a long time but now it reflected its residents happy moods. And when night fell Rhaenyra would sleep with her mother instead of alone in her own chambers. Aemma knew she could have never done this in the Red Keep, it was unseemly, but on Drangonstone she could do almost anything she liked and if she wanted to cuddle her daughter to sleep then Aemma would. Besides, the babe loved Rhaenyra’s presence, the little girl was always caressing Aemma’s growing belly, talking and singing to the baby whenever she could.
In a few moons time, Aemma Targaryen birthed another healthy child and finally it was a living boy this time. But upon the visit of the new-born boy’s father and a maester from the Red Keep, the baby boy was not to live past his third moon of life.
At five years of age, Rhaenyra learned what it felt like to lose a sibling. She learned what it what was like to hear her mother’s screams of despair and to see her father’s tears over losing a child. And by design they were set to experience that many more times than they already had.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon spends almost two years in Essos, the longest he ever stayed away across the Narrow Sea without flying back and forth between continents.
The youngest Targaryen prince was still heartbroken over the death of his father. “I slew a thousand of them but it will not bring him back.” Daemon had witnessed his father crumble at the feet of the Good Queen, still fresh from battle, at the tender age of one and ten and he did not understood those words back then. But he understood it now. No matter how many fights he got himself into, no matter whatever battlefield he stepped on, no matter how many faceless people he killed and how much blood he spilled… None of it would ever bring his father back.
Daemon was also still angry over his grandfather and brother wishes to keep him shackled into an unworthy and unwanted marriage for no reason other than spite but mostly he was bitter over Viserys receiving everything on a gold platter whilst he had to toil his way in the world. So Daemon stayed on foreign lands, flying all over Essos, exploring everything and then some in search for fulfilment but never truly being sated.
No matter how much he tried, Daemon could not forget home and he missed his family deeply. It was an ache in his heart that never let up.
Almost a year had passed when he decided to go back to Westeros, to grovel on his knees for the king’s forgiveness for a chance to be allowed to stay at his family’s side. But then while passing through the Bay of Tusks before heading towards a skirmish at Bitterweed Bay, Daemon heard whispers of a large amassing of ships over at Driftmark. An even larger one than the Lord of the Tides already had. Lord Corlys Velaryon was raging over losing his chance at the throne not once but twice, sailors whispered. The Sea Snake and the Snubbed Princess were preparing to strike a rebellion, was every sailors’ assumption about such a grand armada.
Daemon did not flew back home. Instead he stayed in Essos with a plan in how best to prove his worth. He decided to be useful to the family, to his brother, to show them what he could do and be for them. To show everyone he was a descendant of Aegon the Dragon, the blood of Old Valyria.
For moons, Prince Daemon Targaryen travelled all around Essos banding together an army unbeknownst to anyone. He stayed in the shadows mostly, leaving the recruiting and leadership for others, making an appearance just when it was to test the army’s prowess in battle. To give them a boost in knowing there was a dragon among them. Only the same old whispers of the Rogue Prince fighting for sellswords companies for the fun of bloodshed made it back to Westeros and nothing else.
By 103 AC, Daemon had built his very own army from scratch. There was all kinds of mercenaries, pit fighters, every other ilk of shady and dangerous men made up his ragtag of an army; there was no discrimination in who could be recruited as long as the men knew how to wield a weapon and be loyal.
Despite Viserys actions, his disregard for his own young brother, Daemon loved him as deeply as he ever had and he would defend the throne Viserys was meant to sit upon at all costs. Daemon would be the sword and the shield of his family as he was meant to be. No matter that Rhaenys was his blood too and would probably make for a better ruler, Viserys and Rhaenyra were Daemon’s priority first and foremost.
When news that King Jaehaerys was bedridden and expected to die at any moment reached the newest Essosi city the Targaryen prince was visiting and lending his sword and army to, Daemon did not lose time in assembling his army to sail to Westeros.
Only a few weeks prior a despaired Aemma had been forced by her husband to leave Dragonstone in order to go back to Kings Landing, leaving a saddened Rhaenyra behind, when Daemon landed his blood wyrm on the Dragonmont; his army not far behind sailing discreetly through nebulous waters. The Targaryen Island was one of the very few keeps that were not ruled by the Faith of the Seven nor the Citadel’s grey rats, so Daemon counted on that to remain a secret until it was time for his brother to ascend the throne.
The servants and even the keep’s maester were always loyal to the Targaryens and to the Targaryens only, it had been so way before the Conquest and continued years after it. And if they turned to be more specifically loyal to its Crown Prince than any other member of the family, it was said it had been a tradition installed by the adored Queen Rhaenys.
Daemon could trust not to have his hand tipped to the opposite side just yet by laying low at Dragonstone until the Old King finally died. Almost everyone there knew him from when he was just a teenage boy, the keeps current household being Baelon’s brought there when Baelon was made heir, so Daemon easily sweet talked his way into the castle and earned their silence. The castle guards also had enough of a liking to Daemon not to fuss about his unannounced and uninvited stay.
But there was new faces around, the maids and septas brought from Kings Landing to be the caretakers of one Princess Rhaenyra. If half of those disappeared in the windy cliffs of Dragonstone, it was no one’s business but Daemon’s. And fortunately the little princess had been given only one Kingsguard, Ser Erryk Cargyll was a young knight and newly instated into the brotherhood, who admired the prince’s feat as a knight and was easy to persuade to his good side as well.
When Daemon reappeared in Rhaenyra’s life it was as if he had never left to begin with, in a matter of days they were back to their old routine. Valyrian studies, dragon bonding lessons, flying on Caraxes, and telling tales of adventures on faraway lands well into the night. Daemon showed the little princess all the keep best spots, spent hours exploring the island grounds, walking on the beach shores and going into the Dragonmont caves to try to recklessly sight the wild dragons. He avoided the actual occupied dragon lairs of course, but the spellbound girl did not need to know that.
For a couple of moons all was right again, Daemon felt home and Rhaenyra felt whole, a weight being lifted from both their shoulders and they could just be. Daemon never felt more at peace when simply sitting still on the beach watching his niece play on the sea, observing her little jumps on the water and little laughs of happiness. It was peaceful and it was quiet, something Daemon seldom ever had.
But then the raven came. The King was dead and Rhaenyra was to sail back to Kings Landing at once for her father’s coronation.
Less than a week after King Jaehaerys the Conciliator pyre was lit by a trembling grandson and heir, Kings Landing was surrounded by Velaryon ships. A whole entire armada at his door was Viserys I Targaryen first taste of kingship before even being officially crowned. Terms to pacify the snubbed princess and her greedy husband were discussed between the soon to be king and his councilmen, nothing that would really be a sensible and advantageous solution to either party.
Rhaenys Targaryen had an armada and Corlys Velaryon a dragonrider, they had all the advantages to take whatever they wanted. In all the days they were in the city never once did they agreed to a formal meeting, only ignoring the messages sent, the ships kept surrounding the city and Meleys would fly around city and keep often.
One afternoon while locked in the Small Council chambers discussing solutions, Viserys gasped at hearing the distinctive shrieking whistles of Caraxes; his baby brother had come back home, to his aid, to protect their family. Viserys ran to the chambers balcony and there in the horizon a fleet of ships bearing the Targaryen banner was sailing through Blackwater Bay with two dragons – one red and huge with a lean body and snake-like neck, the other a very small dragonling with yellow scales furiously beating its little wings to keep pace – leading the fleet towards Kings Landing.
Viserys and Aemma arrived in the outer courtyard just in time to watch their daughter’s dragon land quite elegantly for its small body, happily chirping her arrival and Caraxes following suit with Daemon and Rhaenyra on his back.
“Brother!” Viserys exclaimed with a beaming smile and was quick to bring Daemon into a hug when he stopped in front of him. “I’m glad you came... But how did you know to bring Rhaenyra from Dragonstone?”
“Just a coincidence she was there getting ready to sail here when I stopped by.” Daemon said stepping back, sparing a smile to his good-sister who looked thinner than she was before he left and was clutching at Rhaenyra as if the girl was about to disappear.
“If I had known where you were, I would have sent word of the situation.” Viserys commented with a placating tone and expression. “You should have been here to light grandfather’s pyre with dragon flames.”
“Rumor travelled across the Narrow Sea. I took it upon myself to build an army in your name to secure your throne.” The younger Targaryen pretended not to hear his older brother’s empty words and got straight to the point. He did not miss the different reactions upon the faces of the lords behind Viserys, he catalogued it all and their names for any necessary measures in the future.
“Oh.” Was all Viserys could muster for a moment, surprised at Daemon’s actions and just then seeming to fully see the man in front of him and not the little brother who had left.
Daemon had grown taller still, his lithe body now broad with muscles, his face more mature with no more traces of adolescence. The hair he used to wear short was now long, shaved at the sides, and sporting intricately done braids, as well as a beard; he looked more like an Essosi sellsword than a Targaryen prince. The older Targaryen did not recognize the Valyrian braids that signified war. It was unnerving to Viserys how much Daemon resembled their father in body while his face was still all Alyssa’s. And jealously weaved together with the happiness in having his baby brother back.
“Well, thank you for the support brother… But I would rather resolve things without any conflicts.” Viserys was finally able to say, glad for not wavering in his voice.
“Did you missed the armada in your doorsteps, Viserys? If Corlys brought all of his ships here he has one intention and it’s not to negotiate peacefully.”
“We are drawing terms for a peaceful resolution, Prince Daemon.” Otto Hightower said in his slow tone of voice, stepping closer to stand beside Viserys right side and fighting a scowl at the savage sight the younger prince made. “We assure you there will be no need for a fight. Although we can certainly be grateful for your effort in behalf of our future king.”
“I assure you, Ser Otto, I don’t need your insight.” Daemon retorted looking at the man with a sneer. There was just something about him that made Daemon’s instincts scream of danger. The way he had been so readily available to step into his father’s position always in the back of his mind. “I’m speaking to my brother, the future king, not you.”
“Daemon.” Viserys said and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder as if to calm him down. “Otto is right, terms of peace will be offered and I’m sure our cousin will see reason. We’ll offer reparations, very good ones, to this perceived slight Rhaenys thinks she was dealt.”
Daemon raised his eyebrows so high it almost went up to his hairline, he could not believe the words coming out of his brother’s mouth. What the hell had he been learning this last couple years to think and believe such delusional nonsense? Did he not grow up at the feet of Prince Aemon, Baelon the Brave, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne just as Daemon and Rhaenys had to know better than this bullshit he was spewing? Daemon wondered and he was about to say as much; to tell his deluded brother there was no perceived slight, there was a slight dealt to their cousin twice over.
If Rhaenys was ready to wage war with her own family it was because she grew up thinking the Iron Throne would be hers, instead she was humiliated and basically kicked out of the family. But before Daemon could say anything a shadow passed over them swiftly, the Red Queen roar filling the air around them before flying away. Caraxes let his own roar of warning, the young Syrax screeching echoing his.
“She will see reason, huh?” Daemon glared at his foolish brother before turning his back to walk towards his own red beast.
“Daemon where are you going?” Viserys asked with a fearful look, following after his roguish brother, fearing that Kings Landing would be bathing in the flames of dragons fighting each other soon. “Daemon!”
“You want a peaceful solution, brother?” Daemon turned and spit the words out in disgust. “Fine. I’ll give that to you too. You can thank me later.”
Viserys stopped and just stood with a bewildered look watching his brother mount back on his dragon before lifting off, flying in the direction Rhaenys had just flew to. The people in the courtyard watched it all with keen eyes and even keener interest for a good gossip later on; they could not avoid wondering what the soon-to-be-King’s reign would look like with two Targaryen brothers that were so different from each other. Aemma held tighter to her daughter and wondered the very same, a gut feeling answering her that nothing good could come out of this strain relationship.
Aemma huffed in disapproval of the two foolhardy men, thinking about how ashamed her uncles would be of them both; how wroth aunt Alyssa would have been to see where her dear sons were now. Then she turned and walked back into the keep, finally relaxing in what felt like an eternity. Whatever it was Daemon planned to do, she was sure it would turned more effective than the useless efforts of the council.
Rhaenyra felt weird witnessing the tense exchange between her family but she quickly put it out of her mind when she watched her Uncle Daemon graciously flying on his dragon; she longed for the day she could join him in the skies on her own dragon. But for now she would have to settle for waving a goodbye to her pretty lady with a wide smile, clumsily prodding at their bond to prompt the young dragon to fly back to the dragonpit.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Viserys had barely being a true dragonrider, his choice of mount an ancient half-blind dragon that was useless but for the symbol it represented, he did not have the chance to really bond with a dragon, to experience all that a dragonrider should. Daemon on the other hand had done that and much more. And so had Rhaenys. Both had years to hone in their dragon riding skills and to read on the signs given by a dragonrider to another.
Daemon had made a show of power when he arrived and Rhaenys had replied in kind by flying so low over the courtyard to remind them she was a dragon just as much, something his idiot brother and councilmen apparently forgot about. Her Red Queen – the very first dragon Daemon ever flew in with a mother he could barely remember the face of anymore – had roared in a threatening way but it had also been a calling. A calling to Daemon only, for him to take to the skies and follow them.
Viserys and his councilmen could draw however much terms they wished until their hands fell off but it would be for naught. This conflict would be resolved between family, between dragon born children. It was to be resolved Targaryen to Targaryen, dragonrider to dragonrider. That’s what Viserys failed to understand in his lack of a dragon and his unwillingness to be a dragon.
Caraxes landed on the hill usually used for their family’s funeral pyres just a couple minutes after Meleys had landed; it was a hill big enough to accommodate two adult dragons and in a safe enough distance from the city.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, Daemon walked to where his cousin was standing right in the middle between both dragons. Daemon could not avoid the smile upon seeing Rhaenys all armored up, a female version of the simplistic armor her father used to wear, she looked more like the image of Visenya than her namesake. Daemon himself donned an armor that looked eerily similar to the design Baelon favoured for his own armor. Princes Aemon and Baelon’s children facing each other ready for war, dragons at their backs to strike at a moment’s notice; Daemon snorted at the irony, at what the Targaryens were reduced to these days.
“Cousin.” Rhaenys was the first to speak, raising an elegant eyebrow over seeing his appearance. Gone was the wild teenage boy she knew, only a man who exuded danger stood before her. “I see you decided to end your self-imposed exile.”
“Well, I heard sharks were surrounding my family, ready to spill their blood.” Daemon said. “I came to answer in kind.”
“So we’re to fight each other? See who will claim the throne according to who falls from the sky first?” Rhaenys smirked at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“You tell me, cousin. You’re the one with a husband wanting to strike up a rebellion.” He retorted, already tired of this word-fighting. “Is that what you want? To fight… No. To usurp your way to the Iron Throne? Please, Rhaenys, be my guest to try.”
“The throne should have been mine. You know that, Daemon, your brother is not deserving of it.”
“That may be so but his my brother. I’ll die and kill for him, for my niece, for what is ours.” Daemon declared. “I am sorry you lost the crown Uncle Aemon wanted for you, truly I am… You would have been a good Queen but grandsire chose otherwise though, he gave my father and then he gave my brother the right to the throne and I’ll protect it to the death.”
“Would he do the same?” Rhaenys asked, an air of defeat and sadness surrounding her, all Daemon needed to be certain that despite Rhaenys wishes this whole charade was Corly’s doing. Still she was looking for something by going along with her husband’s folly though Daemon could not figure out what exactly yet. “Would Viserys die and kill for you? Wou…”
“Would you?” Daemon asked with a scowl before she could go on that track of thought. “I’m barely a spare, Rhaenys, a second son set to inherit nothing. I don’t need you to tell me that. I know no one would die nor kill for me but my damn self.” He shrugged as if it meant nothing even if deep inside that was a festering wound in his heart. “That changes nothing. I’ll protect Viserys, I’ll ensure he ascends the throne that is his by right. I’ll fight whoever threatens my brother or my niece… Even family.”
“And you’re so confident you can win a fight against Meleys? She’s bigger than Caraxes and faster.” Rhaenys tipped her chin up proudly, putting on a mask of confidence and strengthen. “What about the little fleet you brought to a fight against an armada? Do you really think you could win?”
“Meleys may be bigger and faster but she’s just a pet dragon, she has always been since the time she was my mother’s mount. Caraxes has seen battle since he was your father’s mount.” It was time for Daemon to give his own wicked smirk, canines flashing dangerously. "Believe me, I could even bring down Vhagar if I tried hard enough. With you and Meleys? I wouldn’t even need to break a sweat.”
As if hearing his riders compliments and wanting to show off, Caraxes growled deep in his throat as a threat and stomped on the ground, slightly shaking it, and positioned himself in a battle ready instance. He flashed his own teeth as Daemon had done, smoke billowing from his mouth.
“Let’s cease this unnecessary petty squabble, Rhaenys. Let’s not waste anymore dragon blood than it was already wasted for so many years.”
“Unnecessary? This is my birth right that was taken from me. My children’s birthright!”
“Yes, it was taken from you. By Jaehaerys.” Daemon emphasized the last words. “Not by my father, not by Viserys and certainly not by me. If you wanted to fight someone, you should have fought him the first time he passed you over for someone else.”
“And dear Uncle Baelon said nothing against it, did he? He knew what my father wanted and still took the crown from me!” She bit back, the deeper hurt for her had always being the lack of support from the family, aside from her parents’ wishes and Alysanne, no one else in the family really supported or fought for her.
“And what do you think would’ve happened if father did say something? Jaehaerys would have ordered him to accept his fate and do his duty just like he always did to all of his unfortunate children. Just as he did to you, to me.”
Rhaenys nostrils flared in anger but she had nothing to say to that, it was the truth and all knew it. Even if Baelon had denied the ‘offer’, King Jaehaerys would have dragged him kicking and screaming to the Iron Throne and made him heir nonetheless. Just as he dragged a teenage Daemon drunk to almost oblivion to marry. No one bat an eye then either, the both of them were alike in that little to no support ever came from their family towards them.
“If I had fought back then, if my husband had raised his army and sailed here… Would Uncle Baelon have stood by my side? Would any of you had?” She questioned, tears gleaming in her eyes.
“You know the answer to that, cousin.” Baelon would have stood by his brother’s daughter, no doubts about it but now it was too late for any of that. And while Daemon sympathized with Rhaenys situation, he did thought she was indeed more equipped and deserving of the throne than Viserys, Baelon never failed in his lessons about the importance of brotherly love and unity. “Let’s put the ugly past behind us, alright? I know you’re hurt and I’m sorry for that, but let’s stop this madness while there’s still time.”
“You almost sound like grandsire.” Rhaenys commented, crossing her arms and looking at Daemon contemplatively.
“Viserys wants a peaceful resolution.” He said rolling his eyes. “So here I am, playing diplomat.”
“Well, it suits you. Better than it suits him.” That it was the crown she was speaking of was left unsaid. Although he knew better than believe she meant it and knew he was not really suited for the role of king.
“Unfortunately, I was not born first.” He played along; that he was more equipped to be the firstborn son instead of the second, there was no denying that.
“Unfortunate indeed.” Rhaenys agreed, if Daemon had been the firstborn son she would have gladly married him to join their claims and secure her accession to the throne but alas it was not to be. “So what is the plan? What are those idiotic men of the council cooking up in their vast wisdom?”
“If I was to guess, they will present you the offer of a position back in court. Knowing Viserys he will gift you to keep your title as princess.” Daemon surmised, the games of those men were old and predictable after all. “To soothe Lord Corlys’ hurt ego, they will likely offer him a position in the Small Council.”
“Hm. They do tend to play the same old politics, don’t they?”
“I would rather a fight in the skies. It would solve things more efficiently and permanently.” Daemon needled, a silent threat behind his words.
“Unfortunately, you were not born first.”
“Unfortunate indeed.”
Both Targaryen stared each other down, chins raised high, back straight and eyes gleaming defiance. They were more alike than Viserys and Daemon would ever be, they understood each other in a way Viserys never could, they liked each more than they liked Viserys half the time. Still they were in opposite sides and it would always be so. No matter if Daemon liked Rhaenys better, that she had been for a brief moment the mother figure he had needed, that she would probably see and honour Daemon’s efforts in ways Viserys could hardly bring himself to. Viserys was his brother, Rhaenys was his cousin. The decision was made for Daemon before they were even born.
“I don’t need nor want a position in this court of vipers and leeches.” Rhaenys finally broke the silence, uncrossing her arms to lower her defence, a sign of peace. “I’m better off at High Tide and so is my dragon. Corlys will be more easily assuaged by a position in the small council for his loses. Me though, I want a true boon as reparation for mine and my children’s loss.”
Rhaenys earlier declaration about her birth right and her children’s birth right came in a flash to Daemon’s mind and he was quick to realize she may not have been talking about the throne at all. That maybe this whole show was not to stir rebellion or usurp a throne, at least not yet.
“You want dragons for you children.” He stated without a question, narrowing his eyes at Rhaenys’ smirk of triumph.
“You’re really good at this, cousin. Don’t waste the potential.” She said widening her smile. “My children deserve dragons just as much, it is their birth right as Targaryens.”
“They’re Velaryon, not Targaryen.” Daemon retorted, not liking this turn of events one bit but already planning all possible strategies. “They’re seahorses like their father. They’ve no right to dragons.”
“You want to ensure your brother have his peaceful way out of this? That he ascends his throne and get his crown uncontested?” Rhaenys stepped closer to Daemon, she was almost as tall as him and could look him straight in the eye without problem. “This is my term of peace, cousin. Give my son a dragon egg or the opportunity to claim an adult one. I want at least one of my children to know what it feels like to be a dragonrider.”
“Well played, cousin.”
“Think of it as a chance of a good fight. There’s you and little Rhaenyra, there’s me and little Laenor. If our family was to ever have another unnecessary petty squabble, we would be even and fairly matched.”
Daemon smiled at that, thinking he was possibly the only one in the family who did not suffer from delusions. They would never be even matched, today or a decade from now, Daemon will still easily fell down Rhaenys and her son out of the sky, and he would never allow Rhaenyra to be in any danger of the kind. He was the very last dragonrider warrior of the family and he suspected he would continue to be the only one for a long time. And by the time there was any others, his years long experience would still win over anyone else.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Daemon said at last but both of them knew Viserys would not have the same wisdom of the Old King to keep the dragons from the hands of outsiders.
If Rhaenys hadn’t boldly defy that little rule and claimed Meleys, she would be as dragonless as all other women of the family. If Alyssa hadn’t married her own brother, she also wouldn’t have be allowed a dragon. If Daemon hadn’t ‘stole’ an egg, so would Rhaenyra. It was no secret Old Jaehaerys did not want dragons in the hands of women who would give the family’s greatest power to other houses nor did he want to displease the Faith by flaunting their culture of seeing women as more than just breeding mares.
Viserys was not as smart and way more eager to please than their grandfather ever was. And Daemon, well, he did like the thought of having more of a challenge in a fight.
“Stick around, will you? You and yours have to bend the knee to our new King.” Daemon said and winked at before turning to walk back to Caraxes.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
By the end of the year 103 AC a new king was crowned upon the steps of the Iron Throne, with the blessings of the Faith and with all houses bending the knee to him. All lords and ladies of importance present renewed their fealty to the Targaryens, the Iron Throne and its new king and the ones not present promptly sent their new oaths by raven.
Daemon, Aemma and Rhaenyra stood proudly on the front row of people assembled on the throne room to watch their brother, husband and father donning a golden crown and ascend the throne made by their ancestors. Princess Rhaenys was present in the stead of her lord husband, far in the back fighting off tears but consumed by righteous anger.
Daemon made his own oath then of being the king’s sword and shield against all threats, fingers curling on the hilt of Dark Sister as a reminder to anyone around that a dragon warrior still prowled amongst the sheep. He swore to live, kill and die to protect his family right to the throne.
Aemma swallowed her tears and fears for what her future looked like once she herself was crowned and declared Queen Consort after her husband. She wore the most exquisite of gowns that took moons to be ready, the color blue prominent to remind the people and herself she was an Arryn as well as Targaryen. But no matter how beautiful the new queen looked she felt anything but. An heir had always be expected of her, a son, but her body was unwilling to do its job and now more than ever she knew Viserys and his councilmen would put an exorbitant amount of pressure on her. Aemma was always to be a broodmare and nothing more, it was time to accept that with a stiff lip as she was supposed to.
A six year old Rhaenyra was precocious and intelligent enough to understand the events unfolding and what it meant to their family; in her child mind though she only thought how pretty her kepa looked upon the ugly chair of swords with that golden crown on his head, her muña a few steps below looking regal and beautiful with her very own sparkling crown. In her naïve mind of a child she allowed herself to imagine how pretty she would look with a crown of her own and sitting on the throne.
In 103 AC Prince Viserys was crowned Viserys of House 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.
In 103 AC fate set off the beginning of the end to the House of the Dragon.
Notes:
So what are your thoughts?!!?!? Pls pls pls if you liked it leave kudos&comments :D
That usual essay about the chapter cause I'm a chatterbox sorry ^^'
Last chapter I forgot to mention this detail about Viserys but I so dont buy the whole "he was a bad king because he had no education/was not prepared for the role" -_- Like the dude was a freaking prince, ofc he had the best education available on everything and some more! I also find it unlikely for neither Baelon nor Jaehaerys to not have given him some sort of guidance/lessons. So yeah, here Viserys does have some prep work done but he'll turn a bad king for no other reason than being a lazy and arrogant person
In canon by 101 Laenor had claimed/bonded w Seasmoke but I will go with the premise that King Jae nor his council would have never allowed that to happen, he being almost senile or not, cause it's clear the man was smart to not go distributing dragons for other houses as if they were cats. Although Daemon is smart to know not to do that either, Viserys and Rhaenys left him w little options.
Also with no 101 AC council, I needed reasons for Daemon to go around making an army cause I love that canon little plotline
Btw I'm imagining Syrax to be more or less the size of Vermax on ep6, and Rhaegal&Viserion on s4 i think, at this point in the story (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/52/8d/77/528d7799a81ec28651d3e5d2af076d65.jpg , https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a3/d8/4f/a3d84f0d5eae530416b0bd73f747fd67.jpg)So If you're a visual person like me, I did a tumblr and pinterest for the story's imagery. If you interested, check it out:
For the characters bio, and other stuff I'll eventually post there, you can check the tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts/tagged/house%20targaryen
For the story "visuals" of each chapter you can check the pinterest https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/
You can also check on the pinterest profile the other boards I made, there's the red keep and dragonstone and boards for the characters tooCharacters' ages by the end of this chapter
Rhaenyra - 6
Daemon - 22
Viserys - 26
Aemma - 21
Rhaenys - 29
Otto - 33
See you on the next chapter ;*D
Chapter 7: Chapter Six: 104 AC Part I - The Rogue Prince
Notes:
Hello again!!!
A quick update since I'm head on the number of chapters already written and because your guys response is just!!!! I mean 200+ kudos, 70+ bookmarks and all these lovely comments? Excuse me while I go pass out
Thank you guys, I appreciate it with all my heart <3So like I mentioned, these next chapters of the story are getting really big. Daemon's arc is making me go wild alright. I had first divided 104AC in four parts but decided no to delay too much and so its going to be just 3 parts with almost 7k words. Buckle up folks ;D
Now the year 104AC being mainly Daemon's arc, this is where some of the already up and new ones tags will come in and the story will earn a new rating cause things got really dark for a hot minute with this man hahahahhaahaha If any of the tags are not your thing, you really cant read topics like those, pls exit while there's time ^^'
Reminder that I made these moodboards but the pictures are not mine, I picked them from pinterest so all rights of each picture belong to its respective owners!
High Valyrian in bold italic
Characters' thoughts signaled as 'italic'Without anymore delays, have a fun reading!!!
See you in the end notes;D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
On the dusk of a past year and the dawn of a new one, Daemon Targaryen was reminded once more how little he meant to his brother, the King. How his love and devotion to Viserys was for naught.
Daemon had decided to play smarter than he had previously with his grandsire so for the first couple weeks after Viserys coronation Daemon forced himself to bend backwards to please his brother and cater to his every whim, please the lords and the court. However he was only biding his time to ask for the boon as payment for his efforts, for his unwavering support of Viserys, for his help and loyalty. To Daemon’s surprise Viserys actually offered a potion to him on the small council without even being asked by Daemon or the idea being suggested by anyone; Viserys had been grateful for Daemon’s help and wanted to compensate him with something for that he had said when offering the position.
Although Daemon had no patience for politics, for the games of false pleasantries and sweet empty words, and he certainly wasn’t as skilled in the ways of governance as he was in a battlefield, Daemon still accepted it and tried to do his best as Master of Coin. He had always been a good study, despite his chaotic ways the maesters and tutors always praised his quick wit and intelligence to learn almost everything they put him to learn about. He was good with numbers and thanks to his days as an avid gambler and travels through many ports from Westeros to Essos, Daemon knew how to deal with coin just fine.
However it became glaringly clear to Daemon that the Hand of the King had it out for him from the start.
Otto Hightower did the most to undermine Daemon at every turn, to shed light upon his less than savory ways – even if when it came to gold things had to be unsavorily done sometimes – that would make Viserys turn on him really fast, the man liked to exaggerate in a bad way everything and anything Daemon did. There was always something for Otto to say and Viserys would always side with him before even listening to any defense Daemon might have for himself.
That Daemon disliked the man was no secret, his suspicions of Otto’s true colors and ambitions too great to be ignored but Daemon never outwardly treated the man bad besides some snarky comments and deathly glares. Daemon had no options but to accept that was who King Jaehaerys had chosen to replace his father, that was who Viserys had become so close and friends with. He had no options but to just watch while the Hightowers invaded his home, Otto, his wife and children making themselves too comfortable and familiar in a place beyond their station.
But Otto had to go and mess with him for no good reason. So now Daemon did his fair share to give as good as he got, to do more than throw just snarky remarks, to also shed light on Otto’s less than decent behavior and ideals. It was all to no avail though. In just a couple moons Daemon realized how pointless it was to even try and so he did what he always did best: he went out of his way to be a thorn on his brother’s side.
To his defense, Viserys did try to keep Daemon on the council for as long as possible despite his councilmen advise against it. In his mind he did try to defend and be on Daemon’s side, after all it was just how Daemon was, chaotic and restless, he could not help it. He did not really see how Otto was basically the only one who really brought forth the smallest of grievances against Daemon. And he certainly did not listen to Daemon, even when he tried to defend his innocence against blatant lies.
If anyone was to ask Daemon, he would say that it was thanks to all the stress and the looming dismissal from the council that made him lose twice for a lowly dornish from the marshes during the tourney in celebration of his brother’s ascension. Ser Criston Cole’s skill was passable enough for such a lowborn man but it was nothing compared to Daemon’s so to lose twice was a harsh blow to his ego.
Moreover, he had to watch the unworthy man crown his Rhaenyra the Queen of Love and Beauty as the victor of the tourney, adding more salt to the injury. Rhaenyra had given her favor to Daemon and asked him for the crown, to what Daemon promised he would crown her his Queen. To say that Daemon had wreak havoc upon the taverns and brothels of Maidenpool was an understatement; that had been the true time where he wasted the crown’s coin indiscriminately for his own pleasures.
Days after their return to the capitol from the tourney, Daemon was once again listening in a council meeting he had not be summoned to behind the walls of the council chamber.
The infamous rumored secret tunnels build within the Red Keep by Maegor was not just rumors and Daemon had explored them all top to bottom, he knew the routes and which tunnel led where by heart at this point. The only interesting thing besides training he had to entertain himself with as a kid was that and since that kept him out of sight and out of mind no one bothered to know what the little prince had been up to in all his missing hours.
Maegor had the right of it, Daemon always thought, the secret passages just behind the walls of the castle were useful to many things. Lately he mainly used them to listen in council meetings to see what the men and his brother had to say about him when he was not there. If Otto Hightower was bold enough to disparage him right to his face, if Daemon was a weak man he would have been appalled to what the man had to say when he was not present.
Case in point, Otto was currently talking non-stop about Daemon’s shameful behavior at Maidenpool and his spending of the crown's coin. The man even had the audacity to demand he be punished for it; as if an andal, a second son of a vassal house had any rights to demand the punishment of a prince of the blood. As if sheep could demand anything from dragons.
But turns out that could happen. Viserys placatingly agreed with every word that came out of Otto’s mouth to Daemon’s increasing frustration; at least his brother had the decency to decide to solve things between themselves and not have the council involvement in it. The man his brother was turning into angered Daemon beyond reason, disappointed him greatly and made him want to bang his own head against a wall.
Viserys had always been of a different sort, Daemon knew that already, he knew they were built differently. Viserys had no disposition or interest in sports, his sword skills were bad at best, he preferred to bury his head in books and take leisure strolls in the gardens; Viserys was also weak to the hollow words of courtiers and lords looking for nothing but a bit of favor from the royal family.
Daemon did not know if Viserys was both naive and blind or if he just willingly deluded himself into believing the leeches were really truthful towards any of them. The fact that Viserys, like their grandparents, wanted to bend and bow down in an attempt to please these people made Daemon want to scream. If Viserys wasn’t his brother Daemon would have banged his foolish head against a wall long ago.
In times like these Daemon wished he could let go of all that his father taught about loyalty to the family, devotion and love to one’s brother, what good did that ever brought Daemon if he was the only who had learned any of it?
With a huff and a sneer, Daemon turned and walked back to his own chambers. He was so done listening endlessly to the Hightower spewing horseshit and Viserys eagerly swallowing it all. The King would certainly summon his rogue of a brother soon to dole out whatever foolish punishment he thought fitting. Daemon was done with this charade, he had had more than enough, now was the time for him to strike and get what he really wanted out of all this.
-- --
A week passed and nothing happened, no summons from Viserys came – that could have been attributed to the latest miscarriage of the queen though – and so Daemon kept playing along. He still went to council meetings when they deigned to invite him but only half listening to anything said and he just did a half assed job, no pointing wasting energy if he was soon to be kicked out of that pathetic council. He enjoyed to secretly listen through the walls more than he ever liked participating in it.
Instead Daemon put most of his energy into spending time and entertaining his little niece, as well as keep Aemma company whenever she was free from her queenly duties or not bedridden with yet another pregnancy or miscarriage. Both of them were sorely neglected by Viserys, left alone to fend for themselves against the vipers of court and that just wouldn’t do. Whenever Daemon wasn’t in a council meeting or down in Flea Bottom for some good time, the prince would be found catering to his niece’s every whim, both following each other around everywhere and causing chaos on the corridors of the keep.
Rhaenyra was a spoiled little thing, as the only living child of her parents so far, the king’s daughter and a princess, she had everything she wanted at the snap of a finger. The best of the best was given to her, anything at her fingertips to the taking but her favorite thing of all was her beloved Uncle Daemon’s time and attention. He would spoil her like her parents often did, gifting her all the best things a child could wish for but mostly importantly he made time to be with her, to entertain her childish talks and activities.
As before, Daemon would ensure she diligently studied about their Valyrian culture and their ancestors, he would teach her about their ancestry and their people’s language, about Old Valyria and the Targaryens that came before them. At six namedays, Rhaenyra already excelled at High Valyrian and was as natural as Daemon when it came to bonding with her little dragon.
It had become a common sight to see uncle and niece in the gardens, often under the weirwood tree, the prince laying on the grass uncaringly while resting his head on the princess’ legs. Rhaenyra’s giggles filling the space whenever her fingers passed over the growing hair on her uncle’s head.
Daemon had chosen to shave it all, the long strands of hair too dry and tangled from his time in the hot sunny weather of Essos to be salvageable, since it would be less bothersome it all grow again with a better care.
“Your head tickles, kepus.” She would always interrupt his reading, their language swift on her tongue.
“My hair will grow back soon.” He would say, reaching one hand to touch his princess' silver-gold tresses. “As long as yours, little love.”
“You will be prettier than ever, kepus.” Rhaenyra would smile adoringly; she had almost teared up crying when her Uncle Daemon appeared with his long silver braided hair completely gone one day.
Although the courtiers walking around never understood a word they said, most ladies would coo and swoon seeing this sweet side of the handsome prince while other lords and old ladies would scrunch their noses at the unseemly scene. Neither prince nor princess ever paid them any mind.
Whenever Daemon wasn’t stealing her away from the studies the maesters and septas thought appropriate for a little princess to teach her about what was really important instead, or when they were not languishing in the gardens, Daemon would take her to the dragonpit to spend time and bond with her dragon.
Syrax was growing rather fast thanks to constantly flying with Caraxes, the two dragons were the only ones not chained down or left constantly cupped up in the pit’s caves, Daemon made sure of that. Although Caraxes never got along with other dragons he tolerated the hatchling well enough, he let it follow him through the skies and sometimes even hunted together. Daemon suspected that was likely something to do with their riders own closeness.
A dragon and a rider was an extension of each other, the bond so deep they could sense from each other’s presence to their thoughts and feelings, that’s how Targaryens were able to mount and command their beasts. They were one and the same. They shared fire and they shared blood.
Rhaenyra always paid rapt attention to these lessons her Uncle Daemon gave and so her bond with her Syrax was really strong before they even took to the skies together. If her Uncle Daemon was to be believed, and Rhaenyra always believed every word he said, she would be able to mount and fly Syrax very soon. She longed for that day and she felt Syrax longing to have a rider to share the skies with as well but for now both hatchlings were happy to fly with Daemon and Caraxes.
Daemon and Rhaenyra had just landed back on the dragonpit from another one of their morning flights – the very first thing Rhaenyra always did after breaking her fast with her mother was to go fly with her uncle, he was always there to pick her no matter what. Especially the last days that her muna was indisposed even for their daily mornings together –, their dragons chirping happily and still vibrating with energy while letting their riders pet their scales.
Their moment was interrupted when one Ser Erryk Cargyll, the young kingsguard surprisingly was still assigned as Rhaenyra’s sworn shield, came up to them to announce the king had summoned Daemon.
Rhaenyra almost deflated in disappointment, she was hoping they could go sit under the weirwood tree at the godswood so Uncle Daemon could finish reading the latest Valyrian book of tales he had started a couple days prior while she gorged herself on lemon cakes and strawberry sweets. That was the only time she could eat without fear of the septas’ mean words about her appetite.
“I guess you’ll have to bear some excruciatingly boring time with those old crones today, little one.” Daemon said with a soft pat to his niece’s head.
“Will you come to save me after, kepus?” Rhaenyra asked in High Valyrian, looking up with huge pleading eyes and pouting her little mouth for maximum effect, that made Daemon snort a laugh.
She was really good in trying to wrap him around her fingers, had learned all the best tricks to get what she wanted from him, to goad him into doing her biding. His little niece just didn’t know that she was only able to do any of that because Daemon liked to humor her. The Valyrian girl he always dreamed of having deserved to think she had him at her feet.
“Always, my princess, always.” Daemon answered picking her up and giving her a smacking kiss to her cheek, making Rhaenyra giggle. “Now say your goodbyes to Syrax and Caraxes.”
Rhaenyra waved both hands in goodbye to the two dragons being now led by the dragonkeepers back to their lairs, promising they would come back tomorrow for them to go fly again.
Daemon then walked out of the pit to the small courtyard designated for horses and carriages, the princess' sworn shield following a step behind both royals. If Daemon didn’t have some fun times in the training yard with the young kingsguard and the knight hadn’t kept silent about Daemon’s appearance in Dragonstone all those moons ago, he would have snapped at the man and made sure he also gave them a wide berth as everyone else long ago.
But Ser Erryk was a good sword and even would sometimes have a funny quip to share, besides being of a rare loyal sort and very devote to his task of protecting the princess so Daemon allowed him to follow them like a lost dog wherever they went.
Plus it never hurt to have extra hands when riding through the capitol streets. The path between the Red Keep and the Dragonpit could be made through the best parts of the city, the safest streets, but Daemon knew better than to believe they were truly safe from harm when out and about. Still Daemon preferred to ride a horse when going or coming from the dragonpit – when he wasn’t using the secret tunnels that was – and he took Rhaenyra the same way, safely sat in front of him on the horse so the people could have a chance to look at their princess.
Another important aspect his brother failed at understanding it was necessary.
The common people needed to see their rulers every now and again so they would think the royals cared about them if they were to take the time to make an appearance, to walk amongst them, to give them a little scrape of attention. He heard it first from Alysanne herself and then Baelon taught that as well to them. Daemon took the lesson to heart as everything else his father taught them but Viserys forgot that as soon as it was convenient for him.
Rhaenyra would be taught better, as was Daemon’s goal to make sure she was better than her father ever would be. His perfect little Valyrian princess.
When they arrived at the castle outer courtyard, Rhaenyra’s maidservants and septas were already waiting to sprint her away. A castle guard simply pointed him in the direction of the throne room where the king summoned him to go to, no one daring to trail after the rogue prince and risk his harsh words and harsher temper.
Daemon walked leisurely towards the throne room, no hurry for the conflict to come, already knowing and expecting whatever Viserys had to speak about. Daemon would more than gladly accept be dismissed from the small council, would take on stride whatever scolding words and accusations Viserys had for him, all that really mattered to him was getting his annulment. He would get his annulment and then take on a much needed break from that stinking hole of a city. It was what he deserved after everything.
When Daemon got to the throne room, his brother was standing by the side of the huge ugly chair speaking with Lord Beesbury, former master of coin but now only the lord treasurer – clearly Viserys didn’t really thought Daemon capable and thought better to have someone giving him a hand to do things – and the Maester of Laws, Lord Stokeworth. As soon as his footsteps echoed through the room, they looked in his direction and Viserys was fast in dismissing them. Both lords deeply bowed to the king before scurrying away, sparing Daemon a small bow of the head and a 'my prince' to which he simply ignored them.
Daemon watched with amusement Viserys walk the few steps to the side so he would stand right in front of the Iron Throne as if protecting it from Daemon. ‘As he should’ Some hidden dark part of him that he often kept locked away whispered.
“So, brother, to what do I own the pleasure of being summoned by the king himself?” Daemon asked in a sarcastic tone, smile widening when Viserys faced hardened.
“A serious matter, Daemon. Please drop the act.”
“Hm.” He arched an eyebrow and waited for the shoes to start dropping.
“I was supposed to talk with you days ago but after what happened… Aemma and I…” Viserys sighed, shoulders sagging and pain crossing his features.
Not for the first time Daemon wondered what right did Viserys had to feel sad much less pain over Aemma’s situation when he was the one to constantly force their cousin in that situation in the first place. ‘And he calls me selfish.’ He thought bitterly.
“Yes, very tragic to have another baby lost.” Daemon said in a poor imitation of Viserys placating tone of voice. “I do hope cousin Aemma is feeling a bit better though. I didn’t get the chance yet to talk with her and I know Rhaenyra has also been missing breakfast with her mother.”
“Thank you for keeping Rhaenyra company and distracting her from these unfortunate events.” Viserys sounded genuine in his gratitude. “Never thought I would see the day you would be willingly running around a child and having fun doing it.”
“My little niece is not like other children, brother. I’m more than happy to spend time with her and teach all that she needs to know about being a dragon.”
“Yes, yes, you’ve been very diligent with your lessons. Her septas can’t stop complaining about you stealing her away every day.” He went on, stalling to get to the actual important point of discussion as he often did when the discussion would be an unpleasant one. “How fares her bonding with the yellow hatchling?”
“Marvelous.” Daemon answered with a proud smile. “She’s a natural and it won’t take long for her to be one of the best dragonriders.”
“Oh” Viserys eyes gleamed with the same proud feeling, despite his insistence for a son he deeply loved his precious girl. “I’ll have to take some time to go see it myself.”
“Rhaenyra would love that.” Daemon had his doubts his brother would actually do it, between his kingly duties and his constant impregnation of Aemma, he had no time to spare his one living child.
“Anyways… To the matter at hand.” Viserys finally decided to get on with it to Daemon’s utter relief, the sooner he got his annulment the faster he could be on his way back to Essos. Lys was a lovely place this time of the year.
“Is this by any chance about my position as master of coin?” He cut to the chase to help his brother or else they would spend the whole damn day there.
“I’m afraid it is, brother.” Viserys agreed and then started to pace. “I hope you know I did my best to keep you as a part of my council for as long as possible. I wanted you as part of it… But Daemon you don’t make things easy.”
“You did your best? Are you joking?” Daemon retorted unable to keep his temper in check despite his plan on not arguing with Viserys. How dare he say that when he always sided with that scum instead of his own brother?
“Yes, Daemon, I did my best. I’m the only one here who still sees the good in you, who sees your potential.” Viserys had the audacity to say when he was the one who never saw a thing; Rhaenyra and Aemma saw more in Daemon than Viserys ever did through all the years they were brothers. “But you insist on squandering that away with your deplorable behavior! No matter how much I wish for you to be by my side, I cannot compromise my council or my reign by allowing you to keep shaming the family like this.”
“Oh that is so rich, Viserys. So fucking rich.” Daemon raised his voice as well. “You want me by your side? Truly? Then why do you listen to everyone but me? Why do you believe what everyone has to say but don’t believe a word I say? Why do you so easily dismiss me at the first convenient opportunity? I’m your fucking brother not these leeches!”
“Exactly because you are my brother, Daemon. I know who you are, I know of the fire inside you, I know of your tastes for causing chaos wherever you go.”
“You don’t know fucking shit!”
“Yes, I do!” Viserys screamed this time, red in the face from anger and frustration, breathing heavily and hands belled into fists. Only in those moments the brothers were mirrors of each other. “That’s why I must protect you from yourself and your destructive ways. Protect this family.”
That was a real slap to Daemon’s face, he stepped back as if Viserys had actually hit him, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Protect their family from him? He was the only one who truly worried about this family and the family only, the only one willing to do whatever it took to protect his family at all costs. Daemon was the only one who would happily lay down his life if meant it would protect his family. Viserys did nothing at all but spend time pleasing every other house, every single person who was not blood.
“Don’t you dare say that, Viserys.” Daemon lowered his voice and switched to High Valyrian, a threat blooming in his face. “I’m the one ready to die for this family and you know it. You know I would die for you and Rhaenyra and Aemma. Do not let the words of that leech you call friend blind you. Not about this.”
“Otto has the right to bring the matter of your wrong ways. It’s his job as Hand.” Viserys said as if only that part of Daemon sentence registered in his mind. “He and all my councilmen are unbiased judges and they should help me see beyond relations of blood or my personal feelings.”
“It’s that what you tell yourself to justify the suffering you keep putting Aemma through?” Daemon let slip wanting to hurt his brother just as he had hurt him.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Viserys hissed this time in High Valyrian too and in a blink was up at Daemon’s face, balled fists grabbing at his tunic. “Do not speak of what you know nothing about. You know nothing of the pain we both suffer from our losses. You know nothing of the pain of losing a child!”
“But I do know about Rhaenyra’s pain the longer she goes neglected by her own parents. I know how Aemma’s fire is dying by the second thanks to your selfish desires.”
“I love my daughter! I love my wife! Don’t you fucking…” Viserys screamed in Daemon’s face before pushing him hard. It was ever only in these moments Viserys was able to summon whatever scrape of strength and fire was still left hidden very deep inside to come out, always only when Daemon would be the one on the receiving end of it. “You don’t understand, Daemon. You could never.”
“Understand what exactly? Please enlighten me, brother.”
“It’s time for you to leave.” Viserys said with finality before turning to walk to the throne, even more convinced he had been right in choosing not to disclosure Aegon’s prophecy to Daemon. His brother was not trustworthy with such delicate information. And he certainly was not trustworthy to know about Viserys’ own prophetic dreams. Daemon was not worthy to be his heir.
“Fine, I’ll gladly leave and let you be sucked dry by your dear leeches.” Daemon sneered at his brother’s back. Fuck Viserys ruining things for him as he loved to do. Daemon had a plan, he had a nice sweet speech prepared to ask for what he truly wanted but now that had gone to shit thanks to his idiot of a brother. “Just give me my annulment and I’ll be out of here in a heartbeat.”
“Give yo… What?” Viserys turned, stopping on the last step to the chair, and looked at Daemon genuinely confused. “Your annulment? Daemon, what nonsense are you on about now?”
“That sham of a marriage grandmother forced me into. The bronze bitch I’ve no wish to have as a wife. I want an annulment from this sick joke.”
“Otto was right then.” Viserys commented staring down at Daemon with disappointment when understanding downed on him. “You were bidding your time for this absurdity.”
“I have been showing my support to my family. My wish to stand by my family’s side. To serve it, serve you… That’s what I’ve done since the day I build an entire fucking army for you.” Daemon said with a straight face, easily omitting the fact Otto fucking Hightower saw through his little ruse.
“An army I did not ask for nor did I need it.”
‘Because I fucking solved the problem without bloodshed too when you and your council were useless to do it.’ Daemon thought and wanted to say but forced himself to refrain, he was walking on thin ice as it is.
“The men you brought to our shores were just an added problem for the council to fix.” Viserys continued. “I am thankful for you willingness to fight in my name and thankful for your support, truly I am. But if you did all that to earn a marriage annulment?” Viserys said the words as if they were the vilest of things. “You are very much mistaken in thinking I would ever abide to such a thing.”
Daemon felt Caraxes roars of anger deep in his bones – no doubt he would find his boy had ate a limb or two from the dragonkeepers – and he wanted to roar as well, to scream and spit fire on Viserys. All his love, all his support, all his loyalty and that’s how Viserys repaid him? By giving him more indignity to suffer through, by leaving him chained down and locked up in a cage, by wanting him gone? ‘Fuck that.’ Daemon thought feeling bitter resentment fill his heart, hardening it towards the brother he swore to always love and protect.
If Viserys could forget all that their father taught them, spit on both their parent's memory while at it, so could Daemon. And Daemon would do just that.
“So you will keep me forced into a marriage I do not want? Keep me chained to a woman I do not love?” He asked giving a last chance to Viserys to see reason. “You got the chance to marry a worthy woman of Valyrian blood, a chance to find love and build a beautiful family. Don’t you want the same for me, is that truly it Viserys?”
“Aemma and I learned to love each other, you and Rhea can learn the same. You’re young and still has plenty of time to build a family of your own.” Viserys said dismissively, deep down wishing Daemon would keep not wanting that as to avoid ending up having a son of his own while Viserys was still childless. “It was a good match our grandmother made. Advantageous for our family, deepened our alliance to the Vale… Besides, the Faith would not agree to an annulment. You know how they like things done when it comes to matrimony and I do not need the headache that would bring.”
“Guess I better hurry back to Runestone then.” Daemon said in an eerily calm demeanor which should have alerted Viserys of danger but the man was just thrilled his brother had complied so easily. “Your Grace.”
Daemon gave a bow of respect to his king, allowing for that brief moment his head was down for his hatred to shiny in his purple eyes before hiding it away when looking up again. He grit his teeth seeing how satisfied Viserys was with this turn of events.
“Give my best to cousin Aemma. And my congratulations to Lyman for his reinstatement.”
Daemon turned quick on his heels and walked towards the door before Viserys could have the chance to start spewing his attempts at hallow platitudes. ‘You don’t need to leave so soon, brother’, ‘Stay for a few more days, brother.’, ‘Let’s have a nice family dinner before you leave again, brother.’ Daemon could easily hear all that coming out of his brother’s mouth as he always did if Daemon were to linger a second longer. His restraint was wearing too thin for him to handle any more of Viserys’ bullshit.
Daemon had a good plan, the decent type of plan he rarely wanted to execute, but Viserys had to go and ruin things. Fine then. ‘Have it your way, brother.’ Daemon thought and smirked wickedly. Daemon would now have to come up with a new plan, his destructive type of plan that would bring nothing but chaos, his favorite type of plan to execute. And Viserys would have no one but himself to blame for that.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
After his enlightening conversation with Viserys, Daemon went about gathering the most necessary things from his chambers and shoving it into the sadlebag he usually used whenever he had to make a haste escape on his dragon. Then he went to the Dragonpit to store it away on Caraxes’ lair before sneaking away into the city underbelly. He spend the day paying visits to old pals, men and women who would guarantee to keep him appraised of whatever happened in the capitol either for a pretty penny or as a debt owed to him.
At night he visited his favorite brothel on the Street of Silk but kept to himself drinking in a dark corner and just watching everyone else have fun. Mysaria, his favorite ‘dancing girl’, sensing his mood would just refill his cup again and again, leaving him be until he said otherwise.
That’s what he liked about Mysaria, besides her light blonde hair and blue eyes that were almost purple, she was quick into learning how to read people and act accordingly to please them as best as possible; a necessity of her trade no doubt. Daemon rarely has to order anything from her, she always knew what he needed and always eased his troubled mind better than any of the other women.
Once he had enough of watching and drinking, he stood up and went to the rooms upstairs and unceremoniously entered the best, lavish decorated room that was already cleaned and ready for him. Mysaria entered the room just a minute later and got to work on divesting Daemon of his clothes; sometimes when he was in a dark mood like that one he would prefer silence, only needing the warmth of a cunt to lose himself in pleasure and nothing more.
--
“How long will you be gone, my prince?” Mysaria asked in her thick lyseni accent, knowing that the Targaryen prince was relaxed enough and in a better mood now not to be annoyed by it. After all, she did gave him a good cock sucking and two rounds of rough fucking.
“Heard about that already, did you?” Was Daemon’s reply while fixing his sword belt on his waist.
“You did quite the stir going around hiring for watchful people.” She said with a shrug trying to pretend not to be as curious and worried as she was inside.
Mysaria only had true peace from staying on her hands and knees at all hours when the prince was in the city, her owners and patrons knew she was his favorite so they would stay well away from her to avoid angering the dragon. After becoming his girl, the wealthiest patrons would come looking to have a taste of what a royal of the blood had had and moreover, her prince was beyond generous with his coin, in the five years since Mysaria caught his eye she was able to amass a good amount that now she was very close to achieve her goal of leaving this life.
“If you wanted people for that job, you could have come to me.” She said when it was clear Daemon would keep silent. A venture Mysaria had started to explore was another type of body trade, that of watching and listening and whispering what was supposed to stay in secret.
“I’m here, am I not?” He said sitting back on the bed to put on his boots. “I need all options available to me, hence the little excursion into the city.”
“Then I’ll do my best for you, my prince.”
“I know you will.” Daemon stood up again and flashed her a quick smile. “And to answer your question, I may be gone for a while. I have very unpleasant business to take care of, not the easiest of tasks.”
“I wish you luck then, my prince.” Mysaria smiled her most sweet and seductive smile, letting the sheet fall to reveal her bare breasts to him.
“Here.” Daemon said turning to pick something from inside his cloak and then throwing it at her, a heavy bag of coins falling on her lap. “That must be enough to set you up for good. Whatever it is that you have in mind.”
Mysaria picked up the small but almost overflowing bag and then looked up wide-eyed at the prince, confused as to how he had any idea about her plans but she would not complain if it meant she would finally have the means to get out.
“You’re not the only observant person around.” He winked at her with a satisfied smirk. “Thank me later by still letting me into your bed, yes?”
“You’ll always have a place in my bed.” Mysaria said almost as a promise. More than generous and an advantageous patron to have, the prince was a really good fuck.
Daemon picked his cloak and was out of the place as silently and discreetly as he came in.
--
His initial plan was to go straight to the dragonpit, he had a dreadful prospect ahead of him after all so it was better to just get it done as quick as possible but something tugged at his heart and led him back to the Red Keep instead. Back to his niece.
More than spoiling Rhaenyra, Daemon had spoiled himself with her; her love and admiration and single-minded attention for him was an exhilarating new feeling. An addictive feeling. He was Rhaenyra’s favorite person, as she would openly said to whoever would listen, she loved him and she actually wanted him around, she always said how much she wanted him to stay. His little Rhaenyra had even gone as far as to declare she would be his wife one day to the horror of Viserys and Daemon’s wicked satisfaction.
No one else in the family ever felt that way for him since his own mother so long ago. And there was also that fire he had recognized in her eyes when she was just a baby, the same fire he had, and the dragon song deep inside them that called to each other.
And so Daemon reveled in all she had to offer – currently the childhood and friendship he had been denied when a child himself – basking in it all. That was the reason he always took time to say goodbye to her before leaving a exile and that night could not be different, no matter his anger at her father and the rage simmering in his veins over what he would debase himself to do.
Daemon opened the secret door right by the side of Rhaenyra’s bed, where a big thick tapestry depicting the past glory of the Freehold stood hiding it from view, and slipped inside her sleeping room.
What no one but possibly Maegor himself – and Daemon since he found about it at only 11 – knew was that the cruel Targaryen had made secret passageways in his holdfast as well; if anyone else in the family had knowledge of it, they thankfully took it to the grave. Daemon was sure Maegor probably used a separate set of builders for those particular tunnels to make sure not a single whisper of it got out like it happened with the other secret tunnels.
Maegor did not want rats within his walls but he certainly wanted full access to it all. The passageways on Maegor’s Holdfast was mainly to connect chambers between each other, some of those could lead to other parts of the castle or out of it, but mostly was just a way to get into someone else’s room undetected.
The room that had been chosen for Rhaenyra to move from the nursery had a straight path to his own chambers since they stayed in the same floor of the royal wing, only having a slight curve that deviated away from it and instead could take someone to outside the keep, to a set of stairs hidden from view; when reaching the bottom, all one had to do was cross a small patch of growing grass and then they would get to a gate that would lead straight out of the keep and onto the city’s streets.
“Kepus?” a bleary eyed Rhaenyra asked when she was startled awake by a slight shake to the shoulder. She had fallen asleep after waiting hours for Uncle Daemon to come read her a story before bed as he usually did but he never showed or even let her know he would not come.
“Hello, little one.” Daemon answered and reached his hand to caress his niece’s messy silver-gold hair, then sat down by her side.
“Have you come to read me a story, Kepus?” Rhaenyra asked, eyes finally clearing from sleep to properly see her uncle in the dimly lit room. Almost all the candles had burned indicating how late into the night it was. “You never came to save me from the ugly septas.”
“Business in the city kept me busy today, princess.” Was all Daemon said as explanation, he brought Rhaenyra’s little hand into his, gently caressing her palm with his thumb. “And I’m afraid we won’t be reading together for a little while.”
“What? Why?” She asked alarmed, eyes widening and she quickly scurried to her knees and then onto his lap, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “Don’t leave again, kepus. I’ll be all alone.”
“That’s not my decision to make, little love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Your father and I had a misunderstanding. It’s best we have some time away from each other to cool down.”
“Why must you take time away from me though?” Rhaenyra tilted her head up, big eyes brimming with unshed tears, lips slightly wobbling. “Take me with you, kepus. To go with you for adventures in Essos”
“I wish I could, little love but you’re still young. Too young. You have some growing up to do first.” Daemon said in a soothing voice, gently swiping a stray tear with his finger.
“When I’m older will you take me then, kepus?”
“Yes, my pretty girl.” Daemon answered with a toothy grin, his wicked mind getting the double connotation that sentence could have. “I’ll take you when you’re older.” In the ways of our ancestors that’s how I’ll take you then princess, Daemon thought.
“Alright.” Rhaenyra smiled, tears drying and feeling satisfied with his answer. Maybe her muña and those ugly mean septas were wrong, it did not matter if Uncle Daemon was married, she would be the one her uncle would take away on an adventure.
“In the meantime you will be a good girl for me, yes? Keep on studying all I’ve showed you and going to see Syrax?”
“I will, kepus, I promise!” Rhaenyra exclaimed with a smile, of course she would keep on making Uncle Daemon proud so she added in a mischievous voice “And give the old crones and grey rats hell.”
“That’s my girl.” Daemon winked an eye at her, satisfied to know his little princess wouldn’t be like her father and other members of their family and bow down to the ways of the andals.
“Sing me a song before you go, kepus.” She more commanded than actually asked making Daemon snort at how spoiled he made the girl.
“Anything for my princess.”
Daemon helped Rhaenyra get back under the covers before settling beside her, allowing her to lean her head into his thigh. Daemon started humming an old lullaby he vaguely remembers his mother singing to him once, sparingly singing the sentences he still remembers from that night so many years ago. It was a tale a about a lost dragon trying to find its way home, to where it belonged but always failing and forced to roam the skies alone. Ironically fitting.
Rhaenyra let out a sigh in contentment feeling her kepus fingers play with her hair and listening to his pretty voice, despite her wish to stay awake a while longer it did not take long for her eyes to start drooping; her Uncle Daemon never failed to sooth her to sleep. Before sleep fully took her, Rhaenyra felt soft lips on her forehead and a whispered ‘I’ll see you soon, my pretty girl’. And the young princess fell asleep with a smile that night.
Just as expected, the time with his little princess was enough to sooth away his worries and anger, but also to cement his goal into having her as the Valyrian bride he had been denied. Rhaenyra had the right of it, one day she was to be his little niece-wife. If Daemon had to kill to make that happen there would be no hesitation on his part.
Having already taken all he needed from his chambers earlier, Daemon walked the path that would take him out and away from the Red Keep once more. Back to Runestone and his bronze bitch.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Viserys I Targaryen small council in 104 AC:
Otto Hightower – Hand of the King
Prince Daemon Targaryen – Master of Coin
Lyman Beesbury – Lord Treasurer
Lord Stokeworth – Master of Laws
Lord Grafton - Master of Ships
Grand Maester Runciter
Ser Ryam Redwyne – Lord Commander of the Kingsguard
Notes:
What's your thoughts pls pls pls?!?! If you liked it pls drop a comment and kudos :D
So I really want my Daemon to diverge from his book/show complacent, way too tolerable of bs self and go truly wild cause ugh the frustrations this man gave me sometimes *facepalms*. I've tried my best and I really hope I was successful, let me know!!
When I put the Viserys bashing tag I meant it alright hahahahaahaha And it's only going to get worse
That little Kingmaker cameo *vomits* and to think he will soon become a fixture. I decided to delay his investiture into the kingsguard though and follow the show time that he became one.
Do I really see no truly good reason for Viserys constantly forcing Aemma to get pregnant? You better f** believe I don't! He just did not want his brother as heir and saw no value in a daughter for that either, there was no real need for a son imo honestly -_- But I'll go w that prophetic dream bs reasoning from the show cause it adds some substance to his shitty character
I've no clue who were master of laws and master of ships at this time in canon so lets go some unimportant made OCs ^^'Anyways... If you like/have interest for some story visuals, here's the necessary links:
How I more or less imagined Daemon&babyRhae red keep chambers to be like - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/the-red-keep/daemons-chambers/ , https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/the-red-keep/rhaenyras-chamber/
For more imagery: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-6/
For characters bio/fan casting: https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminipostsCharacters' ages by the end of this chapter
Rhaenyra - 6 (her nameday hasn't passed yet)
Daemon - 22 (his nameday either)
Viserys - 27
Aemma - 21 (neither her nameday)
Otto - 34
Mysaria - 24
See you on the next one ;D
Chapter 8: Chapter Seven: 104 AC - Part II
Notes:
Hello people! Here's a new chapter ;D
This is probably the chapter that will either break or make me (is that how the saying goes?) hahahhahah and hopefully you guys will like what my twisted brain came up with ^^'
Some warnings for this chapter:
So, if you're a Daemyra fan that don't like to read about them with other people, cannot even read when its implied they're paired w other characters much less something straight up explicit, this chapter is not for you sorry :/ Baby Rhae is still that a baby so for now Daemon will keep to his womanizer ways
Most important warning is that if you're not comfortable reading something that's dub-con, almost veering into non-con, there's one of those by the end of the chapter and you can skip from the sentence "Let's get started then" until the part "Get the f* out of here..."
And little reminder that also the tags for underage and unhealthy relationships is there for a reason alrightAlso I've nothing against Rhea, she's kind of a neutral character for me and in some regards I actually like/respect her, and I think she's as much a victim of this marriage as Daemon but this is Daemon's perspective of things so its unavoidable all the ill feelings/opinions about her.
Guess that's all for now
Have fun reading :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was a cloudy late afternoon when Daemon landed on the cliffs not far from Runestone castle, the few caves there were big enough for Caraxes to stay in and away from people. After seeing to his dragon’s care, taking his meagre belongs from the saddle and then unsaddling Caraxes, Daemon set off towards the castle. He was halfway there when he came across a group of people on horseback, his bronze bitch amongst them, seeing their clothes and bows and arrows he surmised they were about to go hunting as they love to do.
“My dear wife!” Daemon exclaimed with a saccharine sweet voice, insincerity dripping from every word. “How lovely it is to see you again.”
“Prince Daemon.” Gerold Royce said when it was clear Rhea was not going to say anything, unlike his cousin the man at least did try to hide his discontent in seeing Daemon which was even more amusing to the prince. “This is quite a surprise… We did not receive word you were coming to visit.”
“When did I ever sent any word here?” He asked flashing a sneer of disgust before schooling his features again.
“What are you doing here?” Rhea finally spoke, looking down at him as if he was an insect disturbing her peace.
“Well, that’s a matter to be treated just between us, husband and wife… And definitely in a more appropriate setting.”
“We’ll let you two catch up then.” Her cousin happily said before Rhea had the opportunity to tell the Targaryen off, to tell him to crawl back to whatever hole he came from.
“Please don’t deprive yourselves from my wife’s lovely presence on my account.” Daemon grinned with sarcasm. “Besides, I had a long and tiring flight. I would rather have some rest first.
“Go ahead.” Rhea said in a commanding and harsh tone to the men, not taking her eyes from the prince. “I’ll follow shortly.”
Daemon did not miss the slight scowl that graced the Royce man features and the discomfort in the others as well. Rhea had taken on her role as Lady of Runestone for just over three years now, no doubt the men were still having a hard time to adjust to their new reality of leadership and the fact Rhea was such a “lovely and sweet” woman must not help in the process at all.
“What are you doing here?” She asked again, this time almost hissing the words, no more restraint in showing her true feelings. “Don’t you have better things to do now that your brother is king? Or were you kicked out by him already?”
“A Small Council position was much too boring for me.” Daemon shrugged and then walked closer to where she stood atop her horse, unlike its owner the horse took to Daemon fairly quick and allowed him to pet his snout. “As for to the reason I’m here, I have a proposition for you.”
“What proposition?” Rhea asked furrowing her brow, that was an unexpected answer from him.
“I’ve came to realize it’s high time we finally do our duty as husband and wife.” Daemon phrased in the best cold and unattached way he could to hide his true thoughts on the matter. He flashed a false sweet smile her way before adding “You know, all that garbage the Seven spew about the need for a husband to bed and breed his wife.”
“I beg your pardon?!” Rhea said in a high-pitched voice, almost rearing back on the horse. “Have you gone completely mad?”
“Possibly.” He answered honestly, keeping on his sweet and crazed wide smile. “Nevertheless, it’s the smart move for the both of us to make.”
“No, it’s not. You’re just playing some wicked game for whatever reason and I’ll take no part in it.” Rhea snorted in indignation. The one good thing she gained from her accursed marriage was the peace of not having to deal with a man crawling into her bed to claim his rights as husband. “If that’s why you came here, I’m afraid you wasted your time. Go the hells back to your whorehouses.”
“Be like that then, dear wife. It won’t be my head rolling once my own kin decides to usurp me.” Daemon said in indifference. But he wouldn’t be giving up this soon. “After all, not even the Warden of the East was safe from treacherous kin.”
“Lady Jeyne is a child still…”
“And you being a grown woman helps how exactly? Besides angering the lords even more, that is.” He interrupted, almost rolling his eyes at her naivety and idiocy. “I would recommend you be careful while out there hunting with your cousin. You might become the hunted prey instead.”
Daemon did not give her a chance to yap any more of her nonsense, turning on his heel and continuing to head towards the castle. He was much too tired and still angered by Viserys to really put on an effort to try to win his bronze bitch over; it was better not to risk falling on temptation to bash her head in with a rock before the right time.
While walking he went over his plan: convince the bronze bitch to consummate their marriage, impregnate the bitch, assure his child and he would have total hold over Runestone and then he could finally get rid of the bitch. Daemon may hold nothing to his name, have no inheritance besides being the assumed heir but his child could have all of that through the bronze bitch; consequently Daemon would be the one to have it until the child was of age.
More importantly, with a piece of the Vale fully on the hands of a Targaryen it would be easier for Daemon and his future child to conquer the whole place. Considering the weak king siting on the throne now, if Daemon was to have the Vale under his rule, make it his little kingdom, he would be as independent as the Velaryons were; with a dragon, possibly two, Viserys would do nothing to stop Daemon from taking the Vale.
People would be offended, angered and indignant over a whole part of the realm being technically usurped, the lords would spew outrage left and right but what were they going to do against the mighty of a Dragon? Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters-wives had thoroughly proved how useless it was to try fighting against the Targaryens. If a Targaryen wanted to conquer, they would do so with fire and blood.
And if Daemon wanted to conquer the Vale and have it for his own, he would make the Eyrie his own Harrenhal to achieve it if he had to.
--
Daemon lounged on a chair by the window of his bedchamber after waking from a long nap, he had put off any more thoughts of anything out of his mind in order to get some proper sleep but now wide awake he could not avoid ruminating over his talk with his bronze bitch earlier and all that he planned. He was waiting for a bath to be drawn for him though the servants of Runestone always dragged their feet in servicing Daemon whenever he had to stay over, none of them paying the due respect a prince was owned; like their lady they all looked at him with barely contained disdain.
The chamber he was given, when he was forced by his grandparents to come to Runestone after the marriage, had been the first sign Daemon was not going to be treated as a prince should. The chamber was about half the size of his own back in Kings Landing, there was no separate solar, no separate bathroom, it was just one big enough room to stay comfortable in and when he first arrived it was an empty space but for one bed and a tub, he was the one to add everything else over the years. Those things used to frustrate Daemon but now he could not be less bothered.
During all his travels through Essos he would fend for himself as often as he had servants – or as was the case of many cities, slaves – catering to his needs. He had to learn fast how to look after himself, to care for his own needs, an enlightening experience life as a prince in the Red Keep had never allowed him to have. If some servants wanted to take their time in drawing him a simple bath, to hells with them then.
His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his chambers were unceremoniously opened without a single knock as it often was by the bitch’s people and half a dozen servants entered carrying with them big buckets of water.
Daemon’s purple eyes light up as soon as they landed on a red-haired girl. The chambermaids assigned to him were ugly old crones with constant scowls on their faces so it was a pleasant surprise for him to find a pretty little flower among them.
The girl was young with smooth and unmarked alabaster skin that only made her fiery red-hair more pronounced. She was with her eyes down casted so Daemon could only see the long dark eyelashes framing her eyes. He had never seen her before in any of his short visits, such beauty would have never passed unnoticed by him, and so he presumed she was certainly new to the castle. The way she actually didn’t do much, only clumsy assisting the others every now and then evidence she hasn’t been working there long.
Daemon kept his eyes trained on her, lust shining in them. Now the prospect of finally having to bed the Royce woman didn’t seem as dire. If having a pretty flower to look forward to have in his bed as compensation for his troubles, then things wouldn’t be all that bad during this stay after all.
Once they were done with his bath, water steaming hot with the coals they’ve put under the tub, Daemon stood up and approached.
“You’re all dismissed.” He said before pointedly looking to the red-haired girl. “But you will stay to help me.”
“Prince Daemon” One of the older woman he never cared to learn the name of spoke, alarmed. “She… The girl is very new here. She doesn’t really know how to do any chores yet. It wouldn’t be proper for…”
Daemon turned his eyes to the woman, glaring at her with a death intensity that she quickly stopped talking.
“Have I asked for your opinion?”
“N-no, Prince Daemon but t…”
“You. Are. All. Dismissed.” Daemon repeated it, slowly punctuating every word in a low dangerous voice.
The girl in question looked with wide green eyes in his direction for a second before looking back at the older woman. The way the other women looked between each other and then to the girl said that just now they realized their mishap; Daemon was sure any spare girl beautiful enough was kept very far away from him whenever he was around. They had dangled a pretty and succulent bird on his face now though, it would be rude of Daemon not to take the offering.
With a resigned sigh and fighting her best not to let her true feelings through the older maid gave a curt nod to him and then ushered the others out the door. 'Good fucking riddance.' Daemon thought exasperated but his mood shifted as soon as he was left alone with the little red flower; while she was distractedly watching the women leave with panic in her eyes, he had prowled towards her and stood just a breath away from her.
She gasped in fright when she turned her head to be closely faced with Daemon’s chest, looking up with eyes still wide she was clearly at a loss. Afraid too, if Daemon was to guess. Up close like this he could see she had light freckles dusting her cheeks and her eyes were of a deep green. And she was really small. Just as he liked them.
“What’s your name, little bird?” He asked grabbing a red strand of hair between his fingers.
“Camellia.” She whispered then bowed her head as to avoid his gaze. ‘A shy one.’ Daemon thought even more pleased, it wasn’t often he had one of those. He was either fucking in brothels or having a go at very wanton ladies.
“Like the red flower?” He asked and she whispered a soft ‘yes’. “How fitting… A pretty name. Pretty hair.” He commented slipping his fingers further through her locks. “You’re all pretty, red flower.”
“Tha-thank you, my prince.” She said still avoiding looking up but with a light frown at hearing words in a unknown language. “They're right, my prince, I… I don’t know how to do things properly yet.”
“Nothing much for you to do, little bird, just get my clothes off for starters.” Daemon observed with amusement the way she clutched at the sides of the skirt of her ugly dress before finally looking up at him. If she wasn’t afraid before, she was definitely now.
“M-my pr-prince?”
“It’s what maids do, isn’t it?” He asked as if confused by her reaction. If he was a better man he would have took pity on the girl but alas. “They undress their masters when needed, help them bath, and so on.”
“Of co-course.” Camellia bowed her head again remembering herself and the many duties all the other women had already explained to her, including those as well. She gulped nervously and then finally let go of her dress to extend her hands to the prince’s chest.
Daemon relished in watching trembling fingers undone the laces of his doublet, the girl’s breathing almost erratic and eyes avoiding his at all costs. Her shyness and meekness was starting to make his cock stir. Only when the laces were undone did she glanced up for a second before focusing again on her task; still trembling fingers softly grazed his skin while she took off his doublet. Cold against hot.
Daemon cocked his head to the side when the girl stepped back, and was now wringing his tunic in her hands.
“You forgot my breeches, little bird.” He clucked his tongue in disapproval.
“Oh… My... My pri-prince it wouldn’t … It wouldn’t be...” Camellia stuttered looking at him in distress. “You’re a man… A married man… It wouldn’t… Your wife, the lady of the castle wouldn’t like it.”
“You will be serving me now.” He said stepping into her space again, and with her head still raised to look at him Daemon took the opportunity to touch her face. Soft skin against calloused fingers. “No need to concern yourself with the lady of the castle any longer.” He added in mocking at the words she used. “Pleasing me and only me it’s all you have to worry about from now on.”
Deep green eyes darted down to where his pants were hanging low on his hips, his cock that had started to get hard was outlining on the fabric. When the little red bird looked back at him, Daemon recognized the flash that passed over her eyes: desire and ambition. ‘Not all that meek then’ He thought pleased and gave a pleased hum when she reached for his breeches, no more trembling and with surer fingers.
Camellia slid his breeches all the way down his long legs then helped him out of it too, and when the black fabric was on the floor she could no longer avoid her curiosity and glanced over to the juncture of his thighs. Seeing her crouched down with that pretty face almost level with his cock aroused Daemon even more and he was soon fully hard. He smirked at her little gasp, eyes not staring away from the sight in front of her.
“Never seen a cock before, little bird?” Daemon asked because despite her shyness maybe she was already stumbling around with some stable boy, perhaps even married. Not that that would stop him either way.
“Y-yes!” She squeaked finally standing up in a hurry, freckles darkening by the blush rising in her cheeks, chubbiness from youth still present. “Just not…” She gave a quick glance down before finishing “Just not this close… My prince.”
‘Oh a maiden to boot’ Daemon grinning sardonically, mind already going through all the things he wanted to do with her. He walked past her and went to the tub without another word; as soon as his body was submerged in scalding water Daemon let out a heavy sigh.
“Go fetch something for me to eat, little bird.”
“What foods would please you, my prince?” Camellia asked already eagerly taking on her new task, to serve and please only Prince Daemon if he had truly meant it. She did not like to be a servant and doing all these tiring physical labors, she was only there for the job for lack of better alternative after being forced by her brother.
“Your cunny.” Daemon distractedly replied, eyes closed and body slowly relaxing into the hot water.
His little flower needed to be sent away for now before he was too tempted on acting on that desire and spoiled the fun too soon. Opening his eyes he found her rooted to the same spot, back to clutching the sides of her dress in nervousness and face utterly flushed. Daemon put on one of his most charming smiles before answering her actual question.
‘By the time I’m done with you, little bird, you’ll know how to properly do many things.’ Daemon thought maliciously once she had quickly scurried away to do what he asked. Yes, he would deflower this little bird thoroughly, mold her to all his wants and desires. After all, it would be a few years yet before he could do it with who he truly wanted.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
A fortnight passed without Daemon hearing any word from the bronze bitch which was not uncommon for them and it was all fine by him, that was a much needed time for him to gather the strength to go through with his plans.
Unlike all the other times he stayed at Runestone though, this time around Daemon took time to walk around the castle and the castle grounds, to talk with the people from the lowborn servants and other workers to the nobles who were passing by there. He even went on some hunting and hawking excursions with the people, something he was not very fond of. He used all the tricks he learned from life in court to endear himself to them, after all if he’s to become their lord sooner rather than later he needed to bring these people to his side, and Daemon was mostly successful in this endeavor. He always had a talent to draw people in, his father used to comment.
Of course there was still some people whose distaste for him – or maybe just distaste for his family in general and what they represented – was as clear as day but others were so put off by his sudden politeness and charming smiles that it allowed him to bring down their defenses against him. Overall, Daemon was sure, people were just glad to garner favor with the King’s brother and also for that exact reason the ones still harboring contempt could not say a thing as they used to. An almost relegated second born prince was a completely different story from a King’s brother.
While waiting for his wife to move next Daemon also took the time to have some fun with his little red flower. Just once did the older maidservants tried to protest his wish to have mainly Camellia to attend to his needs but one deathly glare and reminder of who he was had been enough to shut them down for good. In a matter of days, the pretty girl had already learned almost all of his tastes, how he liked or didn’t like things done; she really was a quick study and very eager in her new role.
Daemon also noticed that she was slowly starting to hold her chin a bit higher, an almost imperceptible air of superiority towards the other castle staff. It was amusing to see the little thing all greedy and ambitious with the attention and favoritism he lavished on her.
And Daemon patiently took his time toying with her: casually making suggestions about what he wanted to do with her, enticing her with light touches and soft kisses and he would more often than not be naked around his bedchamber whenever she was around. He would wait to take her to bed, to take her precious maidenhead, for when he needed to purge the experience of bedding the bronze bitch from his mind and body.
For the last couple days though, Daemon was basking in the pleasures of finally taking things a bit farther with his little bird. After one particular night that he felt as if his cock and balls were about to fall off if he didn’t do something about it, the hot water of his bath not helping in calming down his body, Daemon guided the girl’s hand down to his hard shaft and taught her how he liked to be touched as well. Camellia had left the bedchambers that night utterly stunned and flushed as red as her hair.
They were having one of those little sessions when there was a knock on the door. Daemon was sat on the foot of the bed with Camellia kneeling on the floor in between his spread legs, with her small and slightly calloused hands stroking his cock leisurely but intently as he wanted, and he was having a really good time before the interruption. Fortunately, he had learned to bolt his door to avoid anyone barging in when he was having his fun.
“What is it?!” He barked angrily, his little bird took her hands from him really fast and was now looking more frightened than she did when they first met. Daemon was about to catch her wrist and bring her hands back to his hardness, he had been so close to his peak, when the person outside his door answered.
“My Lady Rhea has summoned you, Prince Daemon.” An unknown male voice said. Daemon’s cock almost completely flagged down hearing those words. “My Lady said you are to go to her private solar, she is waiting for you.”
What was it with people summoning him as if he was some dog on a leash? Daemon scowled deeply. He had half a mind to tell the man to fuck off and go tell his lady to fucking wait for however long it took for his little bird to finish him off; his ambitious plan had to take priority though. And if they were to come to a beneficial resolution today, it would be better for Daemon to already be somewhat hard.
With a despaired sigh, he looked down to a still frightened Camellia.
“Guess will have to finish this later tonight, little bird.” Daemon said and stood, extending a hand to help her up too, before saying to the man at his door “Tell my dear wife I’ll be there shortly.”
“Do you… Do you think Lady Rhea knows?” Camellia asked while pulling his breeches up, back to her usual small voice and body almost trembling in fear, remembering she has been touching the husband of the Lady of Runestone. “Will she be angry? Will she send me away?”
“Fuck whatever Lady Rhea knows or thinks.” He said and framed her jaw with one hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb in a soothing gesture. “I already told you, you are mine pet and no one will be taking you away if they wish not to become Caraxes next meal.”
The burning want was back to her green eyes and so Camellia nodded, appeased at his assurances and possessive words; Daemon smirked at that. She may be all timid and submissive, glad to be all subservient to his whims, a bird with plucked wings but Daemon knew there was sparkling flames of hunger underneath it all. He couldn’t wait to start having some real fun with his red bird.
--
Rhea waited her cursed husband in her private solar, nursing a cup of wine and thinking how best to ran the Targaryen out of Runestone before he stayed too long and got too comfortable. The longest he ever stayed was a single moon and it had never bothered Rhea since they barely saw or interact with each other but now with talks of his interest in one of the maidservants, Rhea wanted him gone as soon as possible.
“Why the summons, dear wife?” Daemon asked entering in her solar with no notice, as if he owned the place.
“Don’t play dumb, husband, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Why would I be playing dumb for?” He asked looking almost genuinely confused, and unceremoniously sat on top of the table she used for her meals.
“The maid girl.” Rhea hissed. “I don’t give a horseshit about you fucking every whore from here to Essos but you will not disrespect me in my own house.”
“Well, Rhea dear, how exactly do you expect me to get my cock hard enough to put a child in that dry womb of yours?”
“I have not and will not agree to your lunacy.” She replied with a derisive snort. “So no reason for you to be messing with any of my maids and certainly no reason for you to stay here.”
“She’s mine now, not yours. And are you truly going to play dumb?” Daemon asked with not much expression than just a raised brow. “Your cousin is surely plotting against you, anyone with an eye can see that. And some men around here are still very bitter for having a Lady instead of a Lord not just in one house but two houses of the Vale and will back your cousin in a blink. A child will put many of them off of that path… Especially a Targaryen child, a nephew or niece to the King.”
“I do not care for spawning a child from you.” Rhea said through gritted teeth and disgust written all over her face; although he spoke truth about her cousin and the displeased men, she would rather focus on kicking Daemon Targaryen to very far away from her.
“And I do not care for siring a child in you.” He said disgust dripping from every word just as much. “But sometimes sacrifices need to be done for the greater good.”
“Oh? I didn’t know you cared about the politics of the Vale and to secure my position in it so much.” She mocked crossing her arms.
“I couldn’t give less of a shit about this hellhole or you.” Daemon scrunched his nose in contempt. A lie since he very much cared about his future position in that hellhole but he needed to thread carefully not to tip his hand too soon.
“Then why, prey tell dear husband, are you so eager for fathering a child all of a sudden?” Rhea asked again hoping this time he would give an answer instead of being evasive.
“For my legacy, for the future of my blood and name. As is every men wish, you dim-witted woman.” Daemon replied as if that was the most obvious of answers that could be expected from someone like him and Rhea scowled deeper. “My cunt of a brother is not going to grant me an annulment anytime soon, much less grant me a new good match if I killed you. And I’m not having a bastard as my firstborn child. Unfortunately dirtying my cock in your hostile cunt will have to do for now.”
Rhea’s defenses dropped for a moment so thrown off she was by his honest answer, he had never cared to explain himself or talk this much with her before but now he had done it twice without much prompting.
And just then she realized the true danger she was in. It was never a secret how much he despised the marriage forced upon him and Rhea had loathed the match just as must but she had never really worried herself about his contempt and clear hate of her. Now though that he so carelessly commented about killing her as if it was nothing to him, just another morning stroll, it was when Rhea realized that had been an oversight on her part.
Daemon smirked seeing the stunned look on the bronze bitch’s face. He had been truthful enough in his answer, making sure to open his expression so she would be able to see that, something he never before cared to do in her presence, never staying more than short minutes around her. It was not her or anyone else’s business if he omitted some crucial details.
There was still some years before he could marry his little niece and father the Valyrian children he wanted. And no one needed to know his true desire in conquering the Vale as a Targaryen domain in true.
“Why exactly do you think your father wanted this marriage so much, Rhea?” Daemon suddenly asked, plugging the dagger deep while she was still with her guard down so she would finally open her stupid brain for what their marriage really meant, to sow the seeds of ambitious desires. “A minor house from a sinkhole in the mountains vying for the hand of a prince of the blood? Bold of him to even try.” He stood up and approached her. “My grandmother wanted to get rid of me but why did your father wanted to marry you into the Targaryen family, huh? To a prince with a dragon, no less.”
It was with wicked relish that Daemon saw realization strike Rhea like lightening, her eyes go wide and mouth agape while her mind worked fast over the implications he laid down on her. The stupid woman had really not think of that, Daemon thought almost snorting a laugh in amusement. No one had ever thought about that it seemed like.
“Your house is wealthy enough and does good for itself, true, and a good portion of the Vale’s army is made by your people. The cavalry at that, even I can concede that’s an impressive feat.” Daemon kept on going, to overwhelm her enough she would be more pliable to accept his offer. “But you’re still just the Royces, a minor house that has to bow down and be subservient to the Arryns, the true power of the Vale… If a Royce woman were to marry a Targaryen dragonrider who would give her dragon riding children? That could certainly change.”
“Th-that’s… It… My father wouldn’t…” Rhea stuttered still trying to puzzle together all that Daemon was saying.
Though she wished to deny it, to curse him for implying her father was not the honorable loyal man she admired so much, Rhea could not deny the very logical and sensible implications now that Daemon had opened her eyes to it. She had never wanted to marry, she learned early on that could mean trouble to her claim as the Lady after her father’s passing but she knew it was unavoidable. So when Lord Yorbert Royce came back from the capitol and announced to her with childish giddiness and in a proud voice that he had secured her the best marriage they could have, Rhea simply accepted her fate.
It did not strike her as strange to be matched to Prince Daemon Targaryen, after all a Valewoman was already married to his older brother, so Rhea simply chalked it up to the Old King wanting to strengthen the Crown’s ties to the Vale. And then when she went to the capitol to meet her betrothed of just a few moons and have a rather haste marriage, Rhea heard the whispers of how displeased with the young prince the Queen was and how they thought the marriage was to simply send him away from court. Upon meeting the rude and hateful boy, she understood why the queen wanted that.
After the humiliating marriage ceremony, the small simple feast and the even more humiliating bedding ceremony, all Rhea wanted was to forget she was even married to that boy. She was all too glad to ignore him just as he ignored her. Now it made sense why her father was so displeased with their unconsummated marriage, how often he got angry with her for not trying harder to win the prince's affection, to have him on her bed.
But Rhea was too happy for being in a marriage that she was not forced to do her duties as wife, to not have a grabby husband crawling into her bed at night, that she would simply pretend not to listen any of her father’s complaints. Then her father died and she had to assume her role as Lady of Runestone, having to fight the odds stacked against her and avoid dissent from her cousin. And Daemon had all but disappeared from Westeros.
Rhea never had reason or wish or time to really put any thinking into the marriage Lord Royce made for his only child and heir.
Now though, with such clear facts laid at her feet, Rhea had no option but to realize a startling truth. That maybe the honorable father she thought she had, in his time as regent and Lord Protector of the Vale for Lady Jeyne, got greedy and wanted more. And he had used and sold his daughter to get it.
“But like I said before, if you don’t want the help fine by me.” Daemon said nonchalantly, taking advantage of the bronze bitch crumbling before his very eyes. “I won’t be the one to be slayed and usurped by my own kin. Cousin Gerold will actually do me a favor… The sooner I get rid of you, the sooner I can start planning for a decent and worthy marriage.”
Daemon smiled sweetly before flippantly turning around and starting to walk to the door, he would give her some more time to stew in these conversation since it was clear it had been too much for her small brain to handle. Before he could reach the door though, the bronze bitch finally said something worth Daemon’s time.
“One child.” Rhea said in a weak voice, so unlike her usual confident and harsh tone.
Despite having the Targaryen prince as far from her as possible always being her biggest wish, despite her lack of want for children and especially a half Targaryen child – she knew the need for one to succeed after her but she would rather lower herself to birth a bastard for that than a dragon spawn from him –, Rhea would sooner let Daemon feed her to his abdominal beast than to let being sold and used and humiliated be in vain.
“What’s that?” Daemon asked grinning proudly of himself.
“I said I’ll birth only one child.” Rhea repeated herself, this time louder and steadier. All the realm knew about Queen Aemma constant pregnant state, the King unrelenting in his wish to have more children. A male child. She would not be the next Valewoman to be put through that by a Targaryen. “That’s it. And if I lose it or it dies in the cradle, we call this madness off. But if the child lives, I want a dragon for him or her.”
“So little faith in me, wife.” Daemon scoffed, he was sure his seed was stronger than his brother’s. He had always been the stronger and better one of the two and the only reason he didn’t already have any bastards running around was because he made sure to do the necessary precautions to avoid it. “And of course my child will have a dragon, no need to demand it.” Daemon finally turned around again and walked back to where she still stood, too close for comfort for either of them. But better to get this over with, he reasoned for his actions next. “Let’s get started then.”
“Wh…?!” Rhea didn’t had the time to finish her question or be confused for long or to even put up a fight, in a second she found herself bend over the table; Daemon took advantage of her still being stunned and with her guard down to easily manhandle her however he wanted.
Daemon roughly pushed her dress up and then her smallclothes down, the sound of fabric ripping filled the silent chamber and the chilling air touching her now bare flesh startled Rhea from her stupor.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” She screeched in indignation, and deep down also fear. Rhea had heard plenty of Daemon’s barbaric and violent ways on tourney competitions and more recently battling on foreign lands, she wouldn’t put it past him to be just as violent in bed. Not that she expected gentleness from this deal but she certainly didn’t expect him to act right away and be this forceful.
“Making sure you get with child soon so I can quickly stop sullying myself with you.” He replied and took his almost fully soft cock out of his breeches, there was still remains from his arousal from earlier in the soft hands of his red flower, enough for him to get worked up quick enough. Thoughts of his little bird, Mysaria and dozens of nameless silver-haired whores helping him along.
Rhea wanted to protest, wanted to have some time to get used to the idea, prepare herself mentally but be it because she was still reeling and shocked from the uncovered truths or because she saw logic and agreed in his urgency, Rhea did not protest nor fight as her instincts wanted to. It was indeed better to get this over with soon.
“I hope you haven’t bedded you lowly knight recently.” Daemon commented with eyes closed, still imagining anyone but the woman beneath him and stroking himself. Remembering that detail since it wouldn’t do to have doubts of legitimacy.
“What?!” Rhea exclaimed alarmed by his knowledge. How could he possibly have known that? She always made sure to keep what most considered 'indiscretions' a well kept secret.
“Yes, dear wife, I know all about your affairs with some household knight and with a former maid too.” At the mention of that other affair of hers, Daemon’s mind quickly provided him with an image of his red flower and Mysaria together in bed so he stroked himself faster. “Keep it up with the woman all you like but no other cock but mine until my seed takes.”
Rhea gritted her teeth but said nothing to avoid more attention on either of her lovers, she would have to talk with them about this turn of events and hopefully they would understand. She clutched the tablecloth hard while waiting the cursed prince to finally get on with it and she was ready to bit down on her tongue not to let out a single pip; from the humiliating bedding ceremony she knew he was not an small nor average man even when flaccid, certainly bigger than she ever had it. Being this unprepared, it was going to hurt and she prayed to the mother nothing would rip and the seed would take root.
Daemon felt his balls tightening and ready to blow his seed so he finally opened his eyes to the reality before him. He kicked her feet wider a part before positioning her in a better angle with his free hand, harshly grabbing at her waist that would surely bruise, and then let go of his shaft in order to spit on his fingers. No matter his distaste for the woman he knew better than to go in dry as she was. And a cunt was a cunt, Daemon loved it and the pleasure it gave him too much not to put on some effort. Besides, he would love the humiliation Rhea was sure to feel if she was to find pleasure from coupling with him.
He brought his wet fingers to her folds, spreading his spit around and smirked the moment his eyes caught sight of her cunny clenching when he applied pressure to that little pearl women felt true pleasure from.
“Can you just fucking get over with it already?” Rhea hissed through gritted teeth, not liking the way her body was starting to respond to his unwelcomed touch.
“And leave my dear wife unsatisfied?” Daemon mocked massaging her nub with more pressure in circular motions, her own arousal joining in his spit to make her more wet. “I don’t think so.”
Rhea’s curse at him was swallowed up by a gasp when there was suddenly two fingers knuckled deep in her and when she couldn’t avoid the whimper she let out once he started to move them in and out while still massaging her clit with his thumb, Rhea wanted to scream in anger and fight against him. He was doing it on purpose, she was sure, trying to humiliate her even more than he already did all these years. But there was nothing she could do about it, her body betraying her and acting on its own instinct.
Daemon smirked maliciously when he saw her close her eyes tightly and almost rip the table cloth between her fingers, her body slightly rocking on his fingers while her cunny greedily squeezed his fingers in. He pulled his fingers out of her cunt not wishing to delay the inevitable any longer and brought them to his cock to get it sleek, then guided his length to her entrance. His bronze bitch had a pretty enough cunt especially now all swollen and wet, he wouldn’t deny, and from what he felt it was nicely tight still; at least Daemon would be able to have pleasure.
With a swift thrust of his hips, Daemon entered her bottoming out with an unashamed groan of pleasure. Rhea though bit her tongue until she felt the taste of blood flood her mouth, the stretch was more than she ever felt and although there was pain from it there was also a deep pleasant feeling of being overfilled, but she did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Daemon wasted no time in setting a steadily fast and rough pace, and it became impossible for Rhea not to let out whimpers and moans, her cunt clenching down on him and her pleasure mounting higher and higher.
Daemon closed his eyes again and took his mind back to the favorite women he had fucked, mostly of them were silver-haired whores and some were even true maidens, imagining it was any of them on the place of his bronze bitch. No matter who he was actually fucking, the warmth of a tight and wet cunt surrounding his cock was divine. And oh was the bronze bitch wet, obscene squelching sounds filled the air along with the slap of skin against skin; Daemon found himself quickly approaching his peak.
It was with a long grunt that Daemon spilled his seed inside her, rutting against her even more harshly and Rhea felt tears threatening to fall from her eyes when she also peaked right after him when feeling even fuller with his seed and the friction she had whenever the front of her cunt bumped against the table. It was with relief she finally let go of the tablecloth once Daemon stilled but he did not pulled back immediately and that made Rhea find her fighting instincts back.
“Off! Get the fuck off of me!” She almost yelled, struggling against his hold on her hips and pretending not to feel the way that jolted his cock still inside her.
“Fine.” Daemon said rolling his eyes and pulling out of her, satisfied that not much of his seed spilled out. “Had to make sure the seed stayed in.”
“Get the fuck out of here before I call my guards.” Rhea said more forcefully after she hastily rearranged her smallclothes and dress, standing up and stepping away from him.
Daemon flashed a malicious smirk at her and then put his softening cock back in his trousers but kept the laces undone so anyone close by would know exactly what they’ve been up to inside her chambers this long.
“No bathing, dear wife, let my seed do its work, yes?” He flashed her another dark grin before walking out of the chambers.
While Daemon would take a long scalding bath to get rid of her on his skin, his presence would linger inside of her for the next few hours and soon for nine whole moons. Retribution and recompense are so very sweet indeed.
Notes:
So what are your thoughts?!?!?! Let me know what you guys thought of the chapter, if you liked it and still want to read more, by leaving comments&kudos pls pls pls pls!!
If you didn't read the explicit part/dub-con at the end: Daemon and Rhea strike a deal to consummate their marriage, a very manipulative deal on Daemon's part. Though she initially agrees, she doesn't really want it or is prepared for him to do it straight away.
Is this a very flawed plan? Yep! But Daemon is going on anger, bitterness, resentment and ofc impulse so as we know he devises the wildest and most likely to fail plans when he's like that hahahahaha
And as a reader pointed out a couple chapters back and its something I also always thought about his marriage, King Jae and Queen Aly really put the Arryns and the established hierarchy of the Vale at risk giving the Targ dragon rider brother to the Royces *facepalms* What if Daemon had accepted the marriage and done his duties? What if a child or more had come of it and they had dragons? How long until a Royce decided they were superior to the Arryns because they were the ones w dragons and deserved to be the liege lord of the Vale? Daemon here is aware of this little detail and trying to be smart about it, using it to his advantage to get back at Viserys somehow
I also always wondered what was it to make Lord Royce want/agree/offer this marriage proposal cause I don't think its stated in the books, at least I dont remember. We know or can easily assume Alysanne reasons but what of Lord Royce. Was he somewhat "forced" to agree because it was the queen/king wish? Did he wanted it for his heir? Was he the one to first offer Rhea's hand and if so, why? And if he did offer, he had some balls to think that something appropriate for a vassal house.
Anyways, just some musings of mine as usual ^^'
In the books is not exactly specified the relation between Lord Royce and Rhea so I'll go w parent/child cause that makes more sense for him to make a woman his heirCharacters' ages by the end of this chapter:
Daemon - 22
Rhea - 25 (no idea whats her year of birth or age so ill put just a 3 year difference btw her and Daemon)
Gerold Royce - 37
OC Camellia - 15Links for some visuals/imagery:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-7/Thank you for reading!!
See you in the next chapter ;D
Chapter 9: Chapter Eight: 104 AC Part III
Notes:
Heloo there
Here's the final part of the year 104AC!!
I'm already writing the 105AC and it will probably be like 10 parts cause it's getting out of control all I want to write on that year alone ahhahahahaha Get ready for some big ass chapters next 🤗That little reminder: Moodboards are made by me but the pictures are not mine, I picked them from pinterest so all rights belong to its respective owners.
And english is not my mother tongue and this work is unbetaed so sorry for any gramatical mistakesIf you're interest for more about the chapter/story, see you in the end notes. If not you can skip my long ass musings there
Have a fun reading ;D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Almost three moons staying at Runestone that was the longest time Daemon ever spent in the place and he was not at all pleased with it; he felt like a caged animal. Looking over the window in his bedchamber, watching Caraxes flying through the night sky, Daemon wished he could be atop his dragon flying far away from there. But he would persist and he would achieve his goal.
“Do you really have to go tonight, my prince?” Camellia’s voice interrupted his musings.
Daemon gave another longing look towards Caraxes silhouette before turning to look over at his bed, a half grin forming on his lips when he saw his red flower comfortably spread out on the bed entirely naked. Fiery red hair all mused, eyes still sleepy from a nap and dried seed still coating her thighs; a beautiful sight Daemon relished in having on his bed.
“I’m afraid so, little bird.” He answered and walked to the bed, putting one knee on it before leaning over to pepper kisses along her shoulder. “Need to keep the wife full of my seed ‘till it takes… Then I can finally be free of the bitch.”
“I don’t like to have to share you with her. You are my dragon prince.” She said and pulled him to lay atop her, red hair a halo around his bird’s pretty face.
“No jealousy, little bird. My true pleasure is here with you.” Daemon smiled charmingly.
“You never told me what those Valyrian words you say mean.”
“It’s not for you to know the language of my ancestors.” He said and then gave a light kiss to her lips before standing up again. “But it’s an endearment ‘cause I really enjoy your company.”
“Just enjoy?” Camellia asked with hope shining in her eyes.
Daemon just grinned down at her as a response like he always did whenever she attempted to have more from him than he was already giving her. She was a wonderful pet to have around but sometimes too greedy and too needy of his attention; Daemon had too much fun to crush her hopes as he usually did with others when things got to this point. Soon but not just yet.
“Be a good pet and make sure I have a steaming bath when I come back.” Daemon said while putting on his boots and then throwing on a tunic.
“And food and ale, I know my prince.” She sat up on the bed and waited for his good-bye kiss, something to help him on his endeavor with the bronze bitch Camellia had quickly learned.
“My good little pet.” He smiled and was back on the bed again, claiming her lips on a searing kiss, hands roaming over her supple flesh.
After having enough to keep him ready for what was to come yet again, Daemon walked out of the room and went towards his bronze bitch’s chambers.
They had all fell into a routine in those long weeks: during the day Daemon and Rhea would mainly stay well away from each other, only ever sharing day time meals when she would be hosting some lord or another and Daemon would intrude on it. His days were composed of visiting Caraxes, sometimes taking a flight around the dreary mountains of the Vale, training with the other knights and castle guards to gain their respect and slowly their loyalties as well. The early nights were for his little bird, for them to lazy around in bed and for Daemon to take his fill of her body.
Daemon would go to his bronze bitch after she had her precious dinner time with her lovers or had spent time hunched over a table with a dozen papers. Depending on the time, if she was still in her solar Daemon would take her there just as he did the first time but if Rhea had already retired to bed he would invade and sully the privacy of her bedchambers; every night because if anything Daemon was always thoroughly with a task. Rhea would always be turned away from him, on hands and knees or laying down on her front, there was no eye contact and no intimacy.
And that was more than fine for both of them. Their common goal the only thing that mattered.
The castle maester passed by him when Daemon was almost at the chambers doors, he gave a deep bow and muttered a congratulation before quickly scurrying off. Daemon smiled at the words, he could finally reach for his freedom.
“I just passed by your grey rat.” Daemon said as soon as he entered Rhea’s bedchamber, no knocking, and caught sight of her still rearranging her nightgown. “Any happy news?”
“Aye.” Rhea replied coldly and looked at him with a blank expression. “No more need for us to get anywhere near each other again. My womb finally quickened.”
“And here I was thinking it was too much of a hostile environs for that to happen.”
“How funny you are, husband.” She said drily before turning away. “Now you can finally fuck off to whatever shithole you wish and leave me fucking be.”
“Oh, I happily will, wife. But first we ought to celebrate.”
Before Rhea could look over at him again, a question on her tongue about whatever the hells he was talking about, Daemon was already out the door. Rhea huffed in annoyance and then went to finish getting ready for bed; his spawn had barely even set inside properly and was already causing her exhaustion and unwanted stress. It would be worth though, all this trouble she had to go through, once she had a dragon of her own to secure House Royce position and elevate their standing in the realms hierarchy.
Daemon walked to his next destination almost skipping in giddiness. A new Targaryen would soon grace the world, his very own hatchling, so Daemon would make sure both of them had their due; a banquet to announce and celebrate was in order. Freedom and conquest was in his future closer than it ever had.
--
Camellia was embroidering on the floor by the hearth, humming a song from the Riverlands where she was born and raised – where both of her parents had died and a brother did not want the burden to care for her, and so she was sent away from all that she ever known –, comfortably sat beside Daemon’s legs while he was on a chair reading some letters he would often receive. She never asked what was written but she had caught some glimpses of words that made it obvious it was about matters on Kings Landing. Camellia could not avoid wondering and wishing he would take her there once he was finished with his bronze bitch.
Their comfortable peace was disturbed when Rhea herself entered the chambers without any announcements, the very first time she ever entered Daemon’s space; if he wasn’t in such a good mood he would have certainly lashed out at that. To his enjoyment Camellia, who was technically still Rhea’s servant, did not even move from her position but for a brief raise of the head to look who had come in and then promptly went back to her embroidery. ‘My good little pet’ Daemon thought with a wicked grin, seeing the clear rage on Rhea’s feature over the slight.
“My dear wife.” Daemon said, earning a scowl from both wife and lover. “Something the matter?”
“Why is it I’ve been all morning hearing about a feast that is supposed to happen tonight? A feast I did not order or want happening but I’m suddenly having to plan for?”
“Oh why, we are to have a child this ought to be celebrated!”
“A true blessing, my prince.” Camellia piped up looking up at Daemon with a grin of her own, sarcasm bleeding through her words.
“You are not the lord of this castle, Daemon.” Rhea said seething even more. “You have no power here and you ought not to dare command my household.”
“Calm down, woman, it’s just a simple banquet there’s no harm in it. Besides, I already set up half of it last night.” He shrugged. “You have to show to your dissidents how happy and proud you are for the power you just acquired. It will do none us any good if the tongues start to wag that this child isn’t wanted.”
Rhea clenched her jaw, once again caught off by his wit and cleverness, she should have known he would be considering he was raised a prince but Rhea as anything concerning Daemon Targaryen never really gave it a second thought. And now his insistence in assuring everyone and their mothers knew they have been sharing a bed every night made sense to her.
“When are you leaving?” She asked to change the subject. Things were indeed almost completely ready, she just had to endure some questions about minimal details so no point in halting it now.
“Tomorrow at first light… Or even earlier if I don’t indulge too much tonight.”
“See to it that you do.” Rhea ordered in her usual harsh voice and turned around to leave.
“By the way, you ought to start looking for a new maid.” He said before she could leave, not wishing for her to have the last word. “My pet is coming with me.”
Both women almost cracked their necks at how fast they looked at the smiling prince. Rhea frowned at first but then when she looked at the awestruck girl sitting by the damned Targaryen’s feet, she scowled deeply in disgust and then promptly left without dignifying either of them with a response.
“I’m coming with you?” Camellia asked with glistening eyes, her dream finally at her fingertips.
“You are too good a pet for me not to bring you along, little bird.” Daemon replied leaning over her, cupping her jaw and lightly squeezing it. “It would be rude to let such pretty red flower to wilt in this shithole.”
Camellia squealed in excitement and then leaped on him, straddling his lap and ready to show her dragon prince her gratitude the way he loved. Daemon knew he should not be giving blatant favoritism and feeding his bird’s greed like that but she was too much of a good fuck for him not to fall into temptation. And unlike any other women he had entertained, Camellia was actually able to be a comforting presence and that was something Daemon knew he would need once he was back in his brother’s court.
--
The banquet to announce and celebrate the happy news the Lady of Runestone was to have a child by her Targaryen prince went without a hitch. To Rhea’s immense displeasure, though she did her best to hide it and just show her satisfaction for putting the disgruntled little men in their place. Just as Daemon had predicted, some of the unsatisfied men were soon to deeply bow and change their tune as soon as they heard the news. Rhea still saw her cousin and a few others sour but reticent expressions.
To her further annoyance, Daemon was the one to stand up and give the news to the crowd, making a big flowery speech and earning quite the round of applause and compliments.
Fortunately, the ill disposition the pregnancy gave Rhea was the perfect excuse for her to retire early. After all the food were served and everyone nicely filled, now only wine and ale flowing freely for the people’s merriment, Rhea quietly announced she was too tired and ill from the early pregnancy and would go to bed. Daemon stood up with her and made a point for the people to think they were to retire together.
“We need to have a proper farewell.” He said loudly and slightly slurring his words, and the men were quick to shout lewd comments their way. “I will soon have to return to my brother’s, the King, side.” He continued in a more serious tone, pointedly looking at the crowd and then shift quickly to his drunk act. “Let’s make the most of this night, dear wife.”
It was a miracle Rhea’s jaw didn’t break with how hard she was gritting and clenching her teeth while she let Daemon lead her from the hall, an arm securely around her hip to keep her flush to his side. As soon as they were out of sight both of them pushed the other away as if burned.
“Are we fucking done with this charade?” Rhea asked angrily.
“Thoroughly done.” Daemon said with relief. “Like I said, I have to go back to my brother’s side. So if anyone inquiries why my sudden leave, be free to throw that weight around.”
Rhea rolled her eyes, of course she was going to start to wield that weapon in her favor, to consolidate her own power and plant the seeds to secure her house a better position.
“Don’t forget to keep me informed about my child.” Daemon said before turning his back and walking to his chambers.
As soon as Daemon entered, he was greeted with everything meticulously organized and ready to go, Camellia sitting on the chair by the hearth patiently waiting for him. Despite not being a secret Daemon was bedding his wife as well as entertaining a lover, he was discreet enough not to draw too much attention to Camellia as not to undermine he and Rhea’s still fragile image and plans. His little bird spent most of the time inside his bedchambers, only leaving when necessary to do her chores as his personal maidservant, and as she had told him she was glad not to have to interact nor tolerate the other people any longer.
“Ready for your first flight, little bird?” Daemon asked while changing on more comfortable clothes for the long flight ahead.
“Yes, my prince.” She answered standing up and gathered her things, just a couple of satchels with her most necessary belongings.
“Let’s be rid of this place then.”
Picking up his own saddlebags, Dark Sister tightly secured to his belt, Daemon and his little bird were swiftly off Runestone castle. Right before the feast, Daemon made sure Caraxes had a hearty meal so he would be placated enough to accept the addition to the ride. It took a moment but in the end his dragon grumbling allowed Daemon to secure all the bags to the saddle and then climb up with Camellia in tow.
His red flower was indeed a little bird, she took well enough to the flight and was even genuinely excited through the whole thing. Perhaps his influence was truly seeping deep into her bones, with her expertly molding herself to his liking, and Daemon could not say he wasn’t satisfied with that.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Caraxes alighted on the dragon pit mid-morning – Daemon having stoppeda couple times for some rest –, the keepers were unprepared for the arrival as it was often the case with that particular dragonrider.
“Where am I going to stay, my prince?” Camellia asked while the two of them walked out of the pit and into the sunny city. She had been so happy she didn’t even thought about asking for the details of her stay in the capitol.
“I have a place here on Rhaenys’ Hill, close enough to the dragon pit but also to some other places of my liking.” Daemon answered absentmindedly, not bothering to get a horse and just keep on walking. He omitted the fact his little house in the city was dangerously close to Flea Bottom and the Street of Silk.
“Oh, a place all our own?” She looked up at him lovingly at the sound of that, all hopes and dreams.
“If all goes right with my brother, I’ll likely receive some position in court and be quite busy but don’t worry little bird, I’ll visit whenever possible.”
“Oh, of course.” Camellia said a little dejected but shrugged it off, not wanting to sour this wonderful moment. “I hope everything goes right for you, my prince. And I’ll be ready to receive you whenever you need me.”
“Good pet.” Daemon flashed a smile at her before focusing on the streets ahead.
He brought Camellia’s arm to rest on his elbow as if to show to the people around she was his possession. Every now and then he pointed to some important buildings and streets for her to start acquainting herself with the place; he still wasn’t sure what she could possibly do while he wasn’t around but that was a worry for another day. Once they arrived on a narrow street where a door was nestled in-between opposite plain-looking buildings, Daemon soon spotted the two men he paid to keep an eye on his place whenever he was out the city.
Daemon hurried Camellia up the stairs leading to the door and opened it for her, ordering his pet to get settled and find some entertainment for herself he did not linger long; then he walked out and went to one of the seedy men.
“Keep an eye on the place and make sure no trouble finds my pet.” He said pulling a purse of coin and depositing it on the man’s outstretched hand.
The man simply grinned at the rattling sound of coins and bowed in agreement. Without any more delays, Daemon pulled up the hood of his cloak over his head and swiftly made his way towards Aegon’s High Hill, to the Red Keep, to the certain barely veiled hostility he was sure to find waiting for him.
--
“Did I read it right and my little dragon took her first flight as my nameday gift?” Daemon asked leaning over the threshold to the queen’s solar, after silently observing his niece and good sister entertaining themselves with the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting .
“Kepus!” Rhaenyra screamed and almost toppled the table full of food over in her hurry to run to her uncle.
Daemon picked her up when she got close and lightly threw her in the air, loud giggles filling the air, Rhaenyra almost splitting her cheeks with how wide she was smiling. Some of the ladies instantly cooing at the image while others had to hide a scowl of disapproval.
“Yes, kepus, I took my first flight!” She exclaimed excitedly when she was settled on Daemon’s arm and then looked over at her mother with a proud smile. “I told you muña, I told you Uncle Daemon would come back if I took to the skies.”
“Indeed you did, darling.” Aemma smiled at the two of them, shoulders almost sagging in relief to see her good-brother back.
She loved her daughter dearly but the girl certainly made their lives hell when Daemon was not around to give in to her every whim. Moreover, things in court just worsened by the day the longer she didn’t give the king an heir, the constant failure to do the one important duty she ought to fulfil, and Aemma knew the boldest tongues would stopping wagging and the daring scorning eyes would look away with Daemon dangerous presence loaming over them.
“Of course I would.” He said as if offended they even thought otherwise. It had been bad enough he had lost yet another nameday of his little niece thanks to his cunt of a brother, Daemon could barely contain his anxiety to get back when he read Aemma’s letter detailing Rhaenyra’s first flight against all the opposition and commands not to. “My precious niece a dragonrider at seven! The youngest in the family to date.”
“That was all Viserys could speak about once our worry and exasperation passed.” Aemma commented before standing up and looking over at her ladies. “Thank you for the lovely company this morning, my dears but I’ll have to ask for some alone time with my returned good-brother.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” They were all prompt into agreeing, some commenting about how much they surely had to catch up, and then they bowed to the three royals before leaving the Queen’s solar.
“Is that little Alicent Hightower, grandsire’s companion?” Daemon asked after the door was closed, still frowning after seeing the meek girl.
“Aye.” Aemma answered, trying to avoid any improper expression but failed if Daemon’s arched brow was any indication. “The Lord Hand thought it a good idea to make her my new lady-in-waiting as her mother briefly was. She passed recently so the spot was vacant anyways.”
“Our dear Hand always so astute.” Daemon said mocking.
“Alicent is nice, kepus.” Rhaenyra naively commented, comfortably leaning into his chest once he sat down with her on his lap, not catching on the tension between the adults about the subject. “She’s much younger than the others ladies and likes to play with me unlike them.”
“Oh I’m sure it’s from the goodness of her heart.”
“Daemon.” Aemma used the best stern tone to warn him, not wanting Rhaenyra anywhere near the politics and matters of court yet.
No matter that she quite agreed with Daemon’s views regarding the Hightowers, neither of them had any power to do anything about it, all they could do was bear the burden.
Aemma did not really have anything in particular against either Otto’s late wife nor his daughter, their quiet and timid nature was actually more in par with her own than her other ladies, but their too pious views and staunch faithfulness to their Seven got tired quickly and grated on Aemma’s nerves more often than not.
Besides, Aemma’s trained eyes would sometimes catch a glimmer of righteousness and snub superiority on their eyes that was quickly snuff out before anyone else could notice. Otto Hightower though gave Aemma the creeps, if she was being curt, and the fact he had such strong influence on her husband only increased her distaste for the man; he unlike wife and daughter did not put that much effort in hiding his sense of superiority for being in a powerful position as Hand of the King and being the closest councilor of the king. The Lord Hand also did not hide from Aemma his disdain over her failures in birthing a male child at the same time he would placate Viserys’ worries over the matter with empty positive words.
The man was utterly unsettling and something deep in Aemma’s bones told her they should not been allowing him to take root in their house. But alas, Viserys adored the man as a loyal councilor and friend.
“Now, my precious, tell me all about your first flight.” Daemon turned his attention to Rhaenyra noticing the sudden change in Aemma’s mood and the faraway look in her eyes. “Did Syrax even grew that much while I was away?”
Rhaenyra’s fledgling was growing nicely thanks to the time spent roaming freely on Dragonstone and then under the influence of Caraxes constant flying away from the pit to go hunting. But Daemon knew the dragon was not big enough to even the smallest of saddles they had stored in the pit yet.
“Viserys, the weak he is for her begging eyes, fell for her wish to have a saddle made specifically for her Syrax as a nameday gift.” Aemma was the one to explain, shaking herself from those unpleasant thoughts, before Rhaenyra could start her own tale about the whole thing; the High Valyrian stilted and heavy accented in her tongue since Aemma rarely had reason to speak it.
“My precious girl.” Daemon laughed at that, proud of how his niece was so precocious and clearly a little manipulator in the making.
Rhaenyra raised her chin proud of herself as well, she had come up with the plan all on her own. Get a saddle that fit her dear Syrax, go to the dragon pit for her daily visits without giving away any reason for suspicion, climb her dragon when no one was paying attention and then soar to the skies; everything worked perfectly that marvelous day. And now she had the recompense she was aiming for: Uncle Daemon came back to her.
The three Targaryen spent the rest of the morning together, eating from the food spread on the table – mainly deserts as was the queen’s and princess’ preference – and intently listening to Rhaenyra rant away about all that happened while her Uncle Daemon was away. Daemon did not disturb the peaceful moment by telling his good-sister about his impending fatherhood, he wanted to give the news to his brother first and he was almost certain his little niece would not like that news all that much.
Their morning was interrupted when the Kingsguard assigned for the Queen’s protection knocked at the door before entering.
“Your Grace. Princess.” Ser Steffon Darklyn bowed to the two women before turning and doing the same to the prince. “My prince. I was informed that the King has called you to the Small Council Chambers. He waits for your presence without delay.”
“Thank you, Ser Steffon.” Aemma smiled at the knight, glad he relayed the message in such diplomatic way, she was sure that probably was not at all the messenger’s words. Viserys was still quite irritated with his little brother after all.
“Well, I better not let the King waiting.” Daemon said before standing up and carefully sitting Rhaenyra on his place.
“Can we go to the dragon pit after, kepus?” She asked with pleading eyes and then pouted in annoyance. “Kepa doesn’t allow me to go there anymore.”
“We already talked about why that is, darling.” Aemma said in a gentle tone.
“But I can fly now, muña, Syrax will be missing me twice more!” Rhaenyra exclaimed petulantly.
“Don’t worry, little love, I’m here now. We’ll spend as much time as you wish with our dragons.” Daemon winked down at her.
“You are the best, kepus!” Rhaenyra clapped happily, beaming smile softening something in Daemon’s hardened heart.
“You spoil her way too much, Daemon.” Aemma tried to sound reproving but her girl’s happiness did not really allow for that.
“Youngest rider of our family, cousin!” Daemon said dramatically making both women giggle. “My girl deserves it all.”
Aemma just shook her head at the two troublemakers she would have to handle now. Before he could leave, Rhaenyra demanded her good-bye kiss and to her delight received a very noise and wet kisses on both cheeks. Daemon winked at his good-sister and then was off to face his brother; he would rather have a private talk with Viserys but if he wanted an audience to their interaction so be it, Daemon would gladly put on a show.
--
“Brother!” Daemon loudly exclaimed barging in the chamber, the two kingsguard stationed outside a step behind him with apologies on the ready.
The King and his councilmen were deep in discussion while waiting for the wayward Targaryen, and silence descended on the room as soon as Daemon stole all the attention. He quickly scanned the large table and its occupants to catch their reactions before they could compose themselves; something he had learned to do early on in the field of a tourney or a battle was always to access the situation as fast as possible to strategize accordingly.
To face his brother’s council was almost the same as to be on a battlefield. Daemon was surprised when he saw none other than Lord Corlys Velaryon sitting on the other end of the table, right opposite Viserys; that news certainly had not made its way to Runestone. He would have to have a talk with Mysaria and his other informants about this slip.
“Daemon.” Viserys greeted him with a curt nod, expression mixed between annoyance and contentment. “Come, join us.”
The flash of irritation that glanced Otto’s eyes was not lost on Daemon.
“Lord Corlys, I’m glad to see you here.” He said when passing by the man’s chair, a rough pat to his shoulder.
“Our King was very generous in his offer of a position in his small council despite past shortcomings.” The Velaryon’s blue eyes looked up at Daemon with keen interest, obviously curious and entertained by this sudden turn of events in their morning. “I could not refuse such honor.”
“Of course not.” He smirked at the man’s hollow platitudes.
Daemon gave a pat to Lord Beesbury’s shoulder on his way over to the vacant chair by Viserys other side, right opposite Otto. Not the only vacant seat on the table Daemon had noticed.
“So what do we own this sudden unprompted visit?” Viserys asked, the uninvited and unwanted went unsaid between the brothers’ sharing look.
“I came bearing marvelous news, brother.’ He answered grinning mischievously at both King and Hand.
“What news would that be, Prince Daemon?” Otto asked before the king could, voice laced with veiled irritation.
“I’m to be a father!” Daemon exclaimed and chuckled at the horrified looks of all members present, except Corlys who just arched a brow. “It seems my bronze bitch is not barren after all.”
Silence reigned in the chamber, they would have probably being able to hear if a pin dropped, and Daemon watched with satisfaction the way Viserys reacted to the news.
Panic quickly setting in on Viserys over the news before he could hide it away, fearing the possibility Daemon would beat him in this regard too and have a son first, and then anger at his brother’s unpredictable ways and tendency to do exactly what Viserys did not want him to do.
Horror soon followed when Viserys realized that Daemon was not only the only heir he had at the moment, although he never officialized it, but if he’s brother was to have a son the throne would fall to his line and not Viserys’. That was also the thoughts on his Hand’s mind, Otto trying to quickly come up with a plan to deal with this new obstacle.
“Congratulations, my prince.” Lord Beesbury was the first to break the silence, looking over at Daemon with that grandfatherly smile of his, genuine in his congratulations. “A child is always a blessing to be cherished.”
“Indeed it is.” Corlys agreed, wittily catching on the changing mood of the council, and pleased to see Viserys and Otto so disconcerted. “Congratulations, Prince Daemon.”
“Congratulations, my prince.” Ser Ryam, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, said with a curt bow from his place behind the king.
“Thank you.” He gave a curt nod to them.
“This news has not reached the Citadel, my prince.” Grand Maester Runciter piped up, voice hoarse and weakened by age. Daemon almost bristled at the man, still wroth with his incompetence in healing his father. “The maester in Runestone should have sent a raven to the Citadel and here, as is protocol.”
“Don’t worry your old brain, Grandmaester.” He retorted. “The maester confirmed the pregnancy just two nights ago, I personally came to deliver the news to my brother.”
“Very considerate of you, Prince Daemon.” Otto finally said. “Good news indeed you brought us. Congratulations.”
Daemon flashed him a malicious smirk before turning his attention to the King, as did all the other men. Viserys startled himself from his shocked state now that all pair of eyes were fixed on him and tried to smile, a wane and weak one.
“That… That is quite a surprise, Daemon.” He said focusing his attention on his brother, letting out an airy chuckled to try to disperse the tension. “You were always so vocal about your distaste towards the Lady Rhea.”
“Well, I had a change of heart thanks to you brother.”
“Oh?” Viserys frowned, not knowing what he may have possibly done to encourage this newest defiance from his little brother.
“You see, after the last talk we had I finally saw the error of my ways.” Daemon said in a dramatic tone, Lord Beesbury and the Grandmaester quickly invested in his tale, while Corlys only looked on with amusement and Otto scowled at his blatant attempt at sweet talking the king. “You were right, brother, I have been childish and selfish. But that is in the past now! Thanks to your sound advice, I came to an understanding with my dear wife and we were able to finally move forward with this great match grandmother made for me.”
At that last sentence, Daemon pointedly looked at Otto, expression open just enough for the man to have a glimpse about a scheme in the making, for him to finally see that Daemon was not at all just a mindless violent man he thought him to be and that he knew how to play the game just as well. The way Otto tensed in his chair and expression shuttered up, lips straining on a thin line told Daemon the snake understood the message.
“Oh… Well, I’m glad to hear it.” Viserys said, still with mixed feelings about this whole situation but truly glad to hear Daemon finally admit to his mistakes and that Viserys had been right all along in his harsh judgments. “Tis happy news, brother!” He exclaimed, changing back to his cheery disposition. “A new addition to the family is long overdue.”
“You are to be back at your wife’s side soon, we can assume?” Otto poised the question innocently and suggestively looked at the King.
“Nonsense, Otto!” Viserys said before Daemon could snarkily give a response. “As you may have noticed, the Maester of Laws chair is vacant. Our esteemed Lord Stokeworth has taken ill and preferred to take the time to heal in his own castle.”
Otto eyes widened in surprise at the king’s suggestion, irritation hidden away, while Daemon smiled satisfied.
“Maester of Laws, huh?”
“I’ll be glad to have you in my council once more, brother. Family must stay close, as you often like to remind me.” Viserys said, reasoning that it was better to keep Daemon close and well placated, for him to distance himself from Lady Rhea and their future child than his king and brother.
“Your Grace, if I may.” The Grandmaester interceded, sharing a brief look with the Hand. “Pregnancy is such a fickle and delicate state for a woman. It may be better for the Lady Rhea to have her husband at her side during this time.”
“My dear wife is as sturdy as her beloved horses, she will be just fine.” Daemon said in a dismissive tone, not wishing to lose his edge of the situation. “Besides, Runestone is just a short flight away for a dragon.”
“It’s settled then!” Viserys exclaimed before anyone else could tried to change his mind. “Let’s adjourn for today, yes? I’ll have Aemma prepare a luncheon this afternoon for the court to celebrate this joyous news.”
The councilmen stood up, bowing to the king and saying theirs ‘we’ll see you later then, your grace’ as parting words before leaving the chambers. Both brother’s stayed in their places.
“Couldn’t have sent a raven beforehand, Daemon?” Viserys asked in reproach once they were alone.
“I was too overjoyed, brother. And I wanted to give the news personally to you.”
“Let’s just stop with this habit of sudden unannounced arrivals, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” Daemon rolled his eyes, of all things for his brother to worry about he always chose the most inconsequential ones. Then he repeated “Maester of Laws, eh?”
“The council has been pestering me to appoint a new one for days. Might as well…” He said with a shrug, trying to sound dismissive. “But I want you to act properly this time around, Daemon. No more nonsense like last time.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Was all Daemon said, clenching his jaw to avoid saying what he really wanted to say about that.
“Let us go tell the girls the news, then.”
Daemon nodded in agreement, pleased with himself at how well things turned out, and then followed his brother. Time to put on his best behavior, to carefully play his cards; because Daemon was sure it would be a battle of wills to convince Viserys to gift a dragon egg to his child with Otto fucking Hightower whispering in his ears. The snake might have learned how to play Viserys but Daemon was still the brother who grew up with him, that would always trample whatever plotting Otto threw his way.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The last moon of the year 104 AC had two noteworthy events: the birth of Prince Daemon Targaryen’s first child with his wife the Lady Rhea Royce, a daughter named Baela for his father, Baelon the Brave. And the news that King Viserys I Targaryen was soon to have a child, his long awaited male heir.
The King fashioned himself a Dragon Dreamer, and once again he had been graced with dreams of a silver-haired boy sitting on the Iron Throne wearing Aegon’s crown and saw it as a sign. A good omen.
King Viserys just often forgot that Targaryen dreams always spoke of doom, of blood and death, not of good things to come.
Notes:
If this chapter feels a little rushed that’s because it is 😅
Im as eager to get to 105AC and Rhaenyra’s arc as you guys alright. Here we even get a glimpse on the start of her little schemer's mindTell me your thoughts!!! If you liked it, drop those kudos&comments pls pls pls
One of the many things from asoiaf that gets me confused is the layout of Kings Landing so I'll get just the little tidbits I do know and then go from there when needed so I may veer into inaccuracy territory 🤷🏾♀️
Anyways... Do you guys want me to get more specific about the timeline of things, like put up months etc? I suck in tracking time so if you feel too confused let me know so I can specify better ;)
So I did decide to give Daemon a child by Rhea because I love Baela and since there wont be any Daemon&Laena I had to find other ways to get her here, so yeah 😅 Also I wanted baby Rhae to have a friend/relative that would be and stay true to her always. And Im a sucker for how Daemon is such a daddy's girl alright
Is it a spoiler to say Rhea will die anyways so Daemon doesn't need to worry about his marriage being more than legitimate now with no chance for an annulment? 🤔🤣
On that note, I forgot to say last chapter but although Daemon could get a annulment by telling about Rhea's infidelity I totally see Daemon being too proud and hypocrite not to want the realm to know he's cuckold by Rhea ahahahahaI'm going with the show's coice of making the Velaryon's black/brown cause I always knew Valyrian features would slay on dark skin tones and they proved me right! But I'll keep the Velaryon usual blue/purple eyes
Links for some visuals/imagery:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-8/
Rhea's feast dress - https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626577997915909/
Camellia's traveling clothes - https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626577997916412/
Rhaenyra - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfit-chapter-8/
Aemma - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/aemma-arryn-targaryen/look-chapter-8/
Aemma's solar - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/the-red-keep/the-queens-private-solar/Characters' ages by the end of this chapter:
Daemon - 23 (his birth is in June cause this man is a gemini and no one can change my mind)
Rhaenyra - 7
Rhea - 25
OC Camellia - 15See you on the next chapter ;D
Chapter 10: Chapter Nine: 105 AC - Part I
Notes:
Hey there 🫣
Sorry for the little disappearance guys. I was trying to keep ahead on the writing before a writer's block could find me but then I fell down the star wars rabbit hole again for millionth time, so yeah 😅
Anyways ... Here's a long ass chapter to compensate for these 2 weeks absence!!
And for everyone who's left comments, gave kudos and bookmarked this story, thank so so much 🥹😘
If you're interested in more ramblings about the story and my unsolicited opinions, stick around for the end notes 🤗
High Valyrian is in bold/italics
Have a fun reading!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The happy squeals of a baby filled the ears of Daemon Targaryen, echoing from his ears to deep into his heart; his child, his baby girl, his little Baela.
When Daemon set out with his plan to sire a child he did not really thought he would feel as deeply towards his own child as he does, he did not imagine he would really be able to completely adore the child; he thought the other half of his child’s blood would be an impediment to that. However when a still bloodied little baby girl was deposited into his arms for the first time, crying and screeching with the full force of her little lungs, Daemon was entirely awestruck by the sight and the weight of his own child in his hands.
That she was from Rhea Royce did not matter, that she was only half Targaryen did not matter, the little girl was from his seed, his flesh and blood. Daemon’s daughter was his and his alone.
Baela Royce Targaryen was born during a cloudless blue morning sky, on the 19º day of the 12º moon of 104 AC. For hours on end Lady Royce struggled to birth her first child, even then Baela was already her father’s daughter; Daemon spent a week in Runestone awaiting the birth and was thoroughly compensated for all his troubles when he held his very own daughter.
Daemon named his daughter after his late father, taking full advantage of his bronze bitch’s weak state to say anything against it, and once the maester declared she was as strong and healthy as a baby could be Daemon took her to the skies a mere three days after the birth. Like his own mother did for him and Viserys, as it should always be with Targaryen babies.
His little Baela took to the skies as if she was a dragon herself, even just mere days old she shook her little arms and legs as strongly as she could in a poor imitation of Caraxes’ beating wings, eyes wide open and happy squealing gurgling sounds slipping non-stop from her lips.
Over three moons passed since then and Daemon remained on Runestone waiting for when his girl was strong enough for him to take her on a longer flight, to take her away from that hellish castle. His brother was in the best of moods thanks to cousin Aemma’s newest pregnancy – a healthy one Viserys had written to him –, Rhaenyra’s nameday was just a moon away, and Daemon still hasn’t been kicked out of his small council position despite Otto’s attempts so he deemed this a good time as any to finally take his daughter back to Kings Landing.
He wanted Baela to be presented to court with all the pomp his child deserved but most importantly he wanted a dragon egg for her.
Daemon had avoided to discuss the matter with Viserys, somewhere deep down he knew Viserys would not grant his wish if his child was born a boy, but he had slipped enough off handed comments about it to both Aemma and Rhaenyra that he knew for certain his brother was aware of it. But the matter was filtered through the innocent and positive views of Viserys’ wife and child, and that was an advantage since the man had a weak soft heart when it came to the two of them. Now that Daemon child was born a girl it would be even easier to sway his brother, he just had to fight against the sure complaints from the councilmen that would ensue.
A fight for tomorrow though, Daemon mused while Caraxes flew low over Kings Lading towards the dragon pit, the moonlight making his blood red scales look almost black and his odd shaped body even more sinister. When Caraxes swooped through the opened dome of the pit and landed on the arena, the dragonkeepers were on the ready to receive the blood wyrm. Daemon sent word beforehand of his impending arrival, his trip taking longer than usual due the several stops needed not to endanger little Baela’s still delicate body and that gave time for the raven to reach the capitol.
With one last caressing pet to Caraxes’ snout, his little girl harshly swiping a hand on the scaled skin as her goodbye, Daemon set out to the secret tunnels that would lead them to the Red Keep. Just a few minutes into the walk and his girl was already dead asleep, thumb stuck to her mouth the way the bronze bitch hated so much but Daemon encouraged out of spite. Little Baela never slept once she was up on the sky, no matter the time spent flying she would be wide awake; she was just a restless soul as Daemon. And as her cousin.
While walking the deserted, dimly-lit and grimy tunnels, Daemon wished that his little girl would be well received by his family, especially by his niece. Rhaenyra took the news about Daemon having a child even worse than when she found out he was already married, if she wasn’t just a small girl she would have probably taken down the whole castle with the tantrum she threw.
She declared him then a traitor and a bad uncle– words that stung in a way Daemon was not expecting and preferred to ignore –, eyes glistening with tears and she spent an entire week without even sparing him a glance. It took a dozen of glittering jewels, pretty toys and silky soft fabrics for Rhaenyra to forgive the perceived betrayal.
Daemon could not really explain to her yet that the affections would be different, that she was his niece and she was going to be his rightfully Valyrian bride, but his sweet guarantees she would always be his favourite girl was enough for now. Daemon chuckled in amusement at the memories, his precious princess already such a possessive little thing, he could not wait for the fiery woman she would become.
--
After stopping by his own chambers to drop their belongings, entering through the secret passage door in his room, Daemon made his way through the near desert corridors of the keep; it was past the hour of the eel when most in the castle would retire. A quick talk with one of the castle guards patrolling the corridors let him know that the king was in his own quarters while the queen was in the princess’ chambers.
Daemon decided to pay a visit to his niece and cousin first, they deserved the courtesy way more than his brother. Arriving at the door of his niece’s room he was greeted by two Kingsguards and two castle guards.
“Ser Harrold.” Daemon greeted with a slight frown. “Are you back to guarding our little princess again?”
“Yes, my prince.” The older Kingsguard replied with a bow of respect. “Ser Erryk was reassigned...”
“Well, in that case could you tell Ser Ryam I would like for the lad to be my daughter’s guard now then? I quite like him.” He interrupted before the man could finish.
“Of course, my prince, we will relay the message.” Ser Harrold agreed and gave a curious glance to the bundle in the prince’s arm. “Congratulations, my prince.”
“Ser Harold, Ser Steffon.” Daemon flippantly gave a salute to them and went to open the doors before they could announce his presence.
Aemma and Rhaenyra were sitting by the roaring hearth, on the big settee positioned just a shy distance from the fire, with Aemma reading a book aloud while Rhaenyra was almost dozing off cuddled to her side. His cousin was wearing a loose red gown but Daemon was still able to notice the slightly swollen belly where Rhaenyra’s head was currently laying on. It was an endearing image, he thought fondly.
“Good evening, beautiful ladies.” Daemon said when they did not notice him enter.
“Kepus!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, fully alerted in a matter of seconds, but still dazed from being almost asleep that she did not ran off to him as she usually did.
“Daemon, you finally made it.” Aemma said with a smile, putting down the book on the table in front of the settee. “We were starting to get worried actually.”
“Well, I had precious cargo with me so I needed to flight safely.” He commented pushing a bit the blanket covering his little Baela so she would be more visible.
“Oh, is that her?” Aemma smiled wider and instinctively reached out her arms. “Come on, give her here.”
Daemon gladly obliged, walking to where they were and gently depositing his girl on Aemma’s arms; it didn’t went unnoticed to him how quite Rhaenyra had suddenly become and a quick look at her revealed a slightly scrunched expression on her face.
“Look at you. Aren’t you beautiful?” Aemma cooed at the sleeping baby, swaying her in a soothing move. “Come, Rhaenyra, meet your cousin.”
Rhaenyra let out a little huff of annoyance but obeyed, kneeling beside her mother and leaning to get a better look at the new baby girl of the family. She hasn’t had many chances to see babies up close but Rhaenyra has seen enough to know they all looked the same, her new cousin certainly looked like the vague memory she had of the little brother named by her. The baby was cute, she could not deny it but there was nothing special to her so maybe Uncle Daemon’s promise she would always be his favourite and special girl would be true.
“She is cute.” Rhaenyra repeated out loud, and curiously reached out her fingers to touch the baby’s cheek and was marvelled by it. “Oh it’s so soft and fatty!”
Daemon and Aemma laughed watching her further explore little Baela. Daemon sighed in relief and then went to sit beside Rhaenyra.
“My girl is definitely the cutest baby.” He said before pulling Rhaenyra to his lap, making her squeal when he tickled her sides. “But you were the prettiest baby, princess.”
“Of course I was, kepus, everyone says so.”
“Aren’t you a humble one, darling?” Aemma commented in feign reproach.
“My precious girl is a dragon, she has no need to be humble.”
Rhaenyra beamed at that, always content to receive her uncle’s compliments, they were her favourite ones.
“How’s Lady Rhea?” Aemma asked in a sympathetic tone, knowing all too well the hardships of labor.
“Still alive.” Daemon replied in the same scrunched expression of displeasure Rhaenyra made earlier. His niece started playing with the rings on his finger as she often did, a habit that started with Baelon’s own ringered fingers. “How’s your pregnancy this time?”
“Going really well so far.” She answered and despite the relieved tone, he could still detect a strain there. “I can’t remember feeling this well since Rhaenyra or…”
The dead babe in the cradle silently floated in the air, the king and queen could rarely muster courage to speak his name.
“I’m glad to hear it, cousin.” Was all Daemon could say. After so many losses it didn’t feel right to him to try to appease things with positivity and hopes.
“My sister is going to be named Visenya.” Rhaenyra piped in, her innocent cheery mood dispersing the tension, then she looked up at her uncle with those huge lilac eyes of hers, hope and happiness glinting in them. “All three of us girls will be the best of friends, kepus! It’s going to be amazing.”
Daemon just smiled down at her, not wanting to crush her childish innocence but knowing well how hopes could be easily destroyed in a blink. Even now, moons passed and he still had that sense of fear in his gut that the Gods might decide to take away his daughter just as easily as they gave her. Balerion, their God of Death was clearly always thirsty for Targaryen blood.
“I already told you, darling, that we cannot know for sure what the babe is until it is here.”
“But it has to be a girl now, muña!” Rhaenyra said petulantly to her mother.
“Whatever our princess’ desire, cousin.” Daemon added with an impish smile; while Rhaenyra nodded enthusiastically, Aemma simply looked at then two with an unamused arched brow.
“Why don’t you go see your brother? He was worried about you.” Aemma suggested instead.
“Was he now?”
“Yes, he was.” She confirmed unaffected by his dry sarcasm. “Go on, I’ll take the little one to the nursery for a bath and call in the wet nurse for the night… After this other one stops being stubborn and goes to sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy anymore.” Rhaenyra pouted and looked at Daemon again with pleading eyes. “Will you stay and tell me a tale tonight, kepus?”
“I’m afraid not tonight, princess.” He answered and stood up. “Cousin Aemma is right, I need to see your father still. Then I’ll be off to bed, the trip was long and I’m tired.”
“And tomorrow night?” She asked without letting the refusal deter her.
“Be a good girl to your mother and we have a deal.” Daemon gave his little niece a wink before leaning down again to kiss her forehead and whispering “Good night, little love.”
Rhaenyra smiled satisfied with that answer and did not even mind when her uncle also gave a kiss on the new baby’s forehead too. She did not need to fear anymore, she knew she would always be Uncle Daemon’s favourite girl and so Rhaenyra could now make plans for her and her little cousin to be each other’s best friends. She did not need to be alone any longer.
--
“Brother.” Daemon said in greeting after been announced and allowed in the king’s antechamber. Arching his eyebrows in surprise at the size Visery’s little project had gotten since last time Daemon saw it. “You are really investing your time in this model, huh?”
“Well, a king needs some distraction from the heavy weight of the crown.” Viserys said standing up and going to Daemon, giving him a hug. “I’m glad you’re back, brother.”
“So am I.” He half-lied, a false smile gracing his face. Just three moons away from the cesspool of court was never time enough, if he was honest he would rather take his daughter to Dragonstone instead.
“Where’s the little one?” Viserys asked curious to meet his very first niece. “Did you came to reason and didn’t fly all the way here with her?”
“Baela likes the sky better than the ground, trust me.” Daemon snorted. “Aemma wanted to take her to the nursery.”
“Then I guess I shall meet her tomorrow morning. I planned for the family to break our fast together… Rhaenys and her family will join too.”
“Rhaenys is here?” Daemon asked surprised at the news.
“Aye. She brought Laenor for his first try at claiming a dragon.” Viserys answered nonchalantly as if that was not a big deal, as if it was not a problem that should not have been made possible. “She told me he was way too sad after his egg turned to stone.”
“Maybe that was a sign.” He retorted with a grimace, hating his participation on that particular issue.
“We made the best deal we could at the time, brother. There’s no other way but to honour it and keep things as they are.”
‘I made the deal. Just so you could say you solved things peacefully.’ Daemon thought bitterly.
“Let’s still hope no dragon accepts him just as the egg didn’t hatch.”
“Don’t be so morbid, Daemon.” Viserys waved at him, dismissing his concern and then went back to sit on the chair beside his Valyrian model. “We’re in a good place with the Velaryons, the best in a long time in fact. Our houses are kin. No problems with strengthening our forces with another dragonrider.”
“If you say so, brother.” Daemon was too tired to fight Viserys naivety on this matter. He just wanted to be done with this conversation so he could skip to business in the city. “When are we presenting my Baela to court?”
“A session will be called tomorrow morning, right after we break our fast.” He answered and tried for an amicable and placating smile. “Then we will have a small council meeting…”
“Is something wrong?” Daemon asked, knowing too well how to read his brother little tells. Something was bothering him, making him uncomfortable all of sudden and it was something serious enough that made him want to be all placating. Something involving Daemon clearly and that never bode well for Daemon.
“Oh no, not at all.” Viserys tried to remain relaxed, keeping a smile on but avoiding his young brother’s eyes. “Just a couple small matters we need to talk about. It won’t take long.” He fidgeted a little with how Daemon kept looking at him, too scrutinizing for his comfort so he quickly changed the subject. “We ought to be rested for tomorrow night, Aemma’s being preparing a welcoming feast for you and little Baela since your letter arrived!”
“That is very kind of her to do. I’m grateful.” Daemon said stilted, formalities always tasted odd in his tongue.
“That is my Aemma, a beautiful kind soul.” Viserys smiled this time genuinely, love sipping through his every word.
“Well, then I better be off. The journey was long and I really need some rest.”
“Straight to bed then?” Viserys asked hopeful not to hear about Daemon’s debauching himself in Flea Bottom come morning, hopeful marriage and fatherhood had really finally settle his rogue brother.
“Aye.” Daemon grinned mischievously. His kingly brother did not need to know where and what bed exactly was he going to fall into this night. “Good night, brother.”
“Good night, Daemon. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”
With a slight nod Daemon turned on his heel and walked out the door, pretending relaxation in his steps not to alert anyone of anything. He made his way back to his own bedchamber, where the best passageway for a quick way to the city or the dragonpit was, the reason why he chose that particular room.
If rumour was to be believed, that room had actually been Maegor’s favourite private chambers to spend time on as opposed to the one on the last floor of the royal wing where kings resided. Daemon understood the appeal.
He did not bother changing clothes, just throwing on another cloak, the one he liked to use when wanting to wander discreetly through the streets. Daemon had enough clothes at his place in the city, his little bird always left everything clean and fresh for him, he would bath and change once he was there. First he needed to pay his favourite whore a visit.
--
Daemon skulked in the shadows of the establishment, nursing a cup of strong wine and observing the night’s revelry, waiting for Mysaria to finish whatever it was she was doing when he arrived. She usually gave him priority but she was already engaged in an important matter, one of the girls had informed him. Observing the newest improvements to the place, Daemon thought not for the first time how well spent his coin had been with the lyseni girl.
It did not surprise Daemon when Mysaria decided to buy her former boss’s establishment for herself along with all the women that worked there. Although the man was infuriated by her audacity and certainly did not want to part with his prized possessions, one chat with Daemon had been enough to convince him. Mysaria had a determination to her, a spitefulness and cunning that it was well known to Daemon, their common traits; so it was amusing to see her take the place from the man that had nightly sold her for years and turn it into her own little kingdom.
The place was definitely more refined now than it ever had been. And it was not surprising to him when Mysaria put one of the older women as the face of the place, its new owner, instead of herself. For her game of trading secrets she needed to stay in the shadows afterall.
Daemon caught a glimpse of light blonde hair on his periphery and turned with an impish smile towards Mysaria approaching form. Once she sat in front of him, he smiled wider, recognizing her look of being freshly fucked.
“I thought you left behind the life of laying on your back, my dear Mysaria.”
“You are not the only important man I still wish to have in my bed, my prince.” She said without flinching, a smirk of her own.
It was not often she subjected herself to it these days, busy running her establishment, working on the floor serving drinks as well, and looking after her girls. But now that she could be the one choosing who to take to bed, Mysaria only took the ones that would give her real advantages be it on her new pleasure business or her other business.
“How you wound me.” Daemon mockingly put a hand to his heart. “As lovingly as it is to talk with you, I’m afraid tonight I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“Didn’t you just arrived, my prince? Why the hurry?”
“Traveling with an infant it’s quite tiring.”
“So it’s true, you really came with your baby?” Mysaria asked surprised, she hadn’t actually put much stock in the rumours the prince was soon to be back with a baby in tow. “I thought you wouldn’t be as reckless as to travel with a new-born on dragonback, my prince. But maybe you’re as mad as they say.”
“And here I thought you knew me by now, dear.” Daemon flashed another smile before giving a shrug. “It’s the Targaryen way, no one but the blood of the dragon understands.”
“Oh well, I hope the baby is alright.” She said in genuine concern, that odd feeling and desire in her heart she tended to have when it came to Daemon returning. The desire of wanting for more in life, of being special enough for the prince to want his seed to take in her. Mysaria never cared for children and her former owners in Lys made sure she would not have to bother with that either but the dragon prince always affected people in the wildest of ways.
“Absolutely perfect.” He said proudly of his little girl. “Perhaps I shall present her to the city too.”
“You’re really mad, my prince.” Mysaria chuckled thinking only Lord Flea Bottom would think that a good and proper idea to do. “Come on then, let’s go to somewhere more private.”
Daemon followed Mysaria upstairs, both walking straight to her workroom, and once they were comfortably settled Daemon asked without preamble.
“What news do you have for me? You haven’t written in sometime while I was at Runestone and I just found out my cousin is in the city.”
“Well, the Princess Rhaenys arrived just a couple days prior to you, my prince. A raven would not have reached you in time.” Mysaria defended herself, tensing in expectation for the true reason why she was relapse in sending him information. She was now regretting deciding it was better to deliver this news personally.
“But something did happen with plenty of time for you to tell me about it.” Daemon said matter of factly, seeing the changing in her demeanour not so unlike that of Viserys earlier. Now he was sure whatever had happened while he was away would not please him in the least.
“I did not want to sour this joyous time for you, my prince. A child is such a precious gift… It did not feel right to spoil it so soon.” There it was again, that almost familiar feeling the prince so easily evoked in Mysaria’s long hardened heart.
“Out with it, Mysaria.” He commanded as a prince is used to, expecting obedience and nothing else.
“A moon ago a new lord arrived in the city.” She started and gulped down half of her wine. “The Lord of Harrenhal, some people saw the banners when the carriages rode through the city."
“Lyonel Strong?” Daemon frowned, not entirely sure if that was the name of the current lord holding the ruined castle. “What about it? It’s a daily occurrence lords coming and going to treat with the crown.”
“Well, Lord Strong came to stay, it seems. It took me sometime to figure out why but once I did…”
“You thought it would spoil my happy time with my daughter. Alright, what are this grim information?”
“I heard that Lord Strong is the new Master of Laws.”
A pin could drop and have the same effect of an explosion in the silence that followed Mysaria’s statement. Daemon almost scoffed and childishly said ‘I am the Master of Laws’ but his meeting with Viserys earlier became clearer in his mind now, the missing pieces as to why his brother acted oddly appearing to complete the puzzle. ‘I truly have no worth in your eyes, have I brother?’ Daemon thought darkly, clenching his jaw so hard the bone felt about to break.
Daemon had gone to receive his daughter into the world, his brother’s niece, the first Targaryen baby to live past infancy ever since Rhaenyra, and that was the time Viserys thought appropriate to fall for Otto’s attempts to dismiss him from the council. Not only that but Viserys, his own brother, thought it was alright to do it behind his back; to kick him out without saying a single word to him, to easily replace him as if he was just another little lord and not his very flesh and blood. That had never been done, Daemon was sure of it, if a person is to lose a position they’re informed beforehand, formally and officially before someone else is set to replace them.
And yet, here he was moons without no knowledge of this, without knowing he had lost yet another position and had been swiftly replaced. Here Daemon was set to find about it weeks later, to be caught by surprise, to have not a single chance to object anything. He felt powerless and undignified, the way Viserys constantly made him feel and Daemon hated it. Not for the first time, Daemon could not suppress the hatred gnawing at his heart towards his brother.
“Since you did not sent any word about it, I assumed you did not know, my prince.” Mysaria broke the silence, using her most delicate and soothing voice, not wanting to spook the beast. Daemon’s countenance and the dark look in his purple eyes made shiver run down her spine and not in a good way. “I did not want to upset you, my prince, while you were enjoying your newborn baby.”
“It was a long time coming.” Daemon distractedly said, voice dangerously calm. “Otto made sure of it.”
“I’m sorry, my prince, it was an unfair thing to do.” She tried to reach for his hand but Daemon suddenly stood up, mood seemly changed and smiled down at her.
“Thank you for you service, dear Mysaria. I did not bring coin with me but we can solve things at a later date, yeah?”
“Don’t you want to stay a while longer, my prince? You can sleep the night if you need.” She stood up as well and tried for seduction, wanting to comfort the hurt dragon, be the one he would rely on for that too.
“Not tonight. I have somewhere else to be.”
Mysaria gritted her teeth, easily imagining he would probably go to the wretched red-haired girl, the one he favoured above all others now; ever since he brought the girl to the capitol, he rarely seeked her out or asked for silver-haired girls anymore. She hated that and wished she could claw at the girl’s pretty young face, turn it to a bloody pulp or set her on fire. While watching him leave the room, Mysaria prayed again she could stop bothering, prayed that these feelings would just rot and die already. It was not worth it.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was almost dawn when Daemon startled awake, a nightmare plaguing his night and not allowing him to have some proper sleep. The same old nightmare about his family shunning him, laughing at his expense, Baelon’s and Alyssa’s expressions contorted in disappointment and disgust of him. The same expression Viserys so often wore these days. The same expression Alysanne always had for him.
“What’s wrong?” Camellia’s voice pulled him away from those images.
“Nothing.” Daemon answered dryly and then sat up on the bed, taking deep steady breathes. Gathering his strengthen and courage to face the day ahead. To face it all without becoming a kinslayer. “I have to go.”
“Already?” She asked sitting up and watching Daemon walk to the small tub in the corner of the room; the water unused from last night past cold now. “The sun is not even up yet. Have a bit more rest, my prince.”
“I’m to have breakfast with my family this morning.” He said while cleaning himself mechanically. “It’s better I be there soon. Need to look presentable to His Grace.”
“Oh.” Camellia swallowed the lump in her throat. She hated when her dragon prince became like this and she already knew by now it was his brother’s fault, Daemon’s worst moods was always his brother’s fault. “Alright. But it still a couple hours before the sun is fully up… Do you want me to prepare something for you to eat before you go?”
“No, I’m fine.” Was all he said, voice sounding dead-like.
Camellia nodded and rearranged herself on the bed, wincing from the pain that flared between her legs, her dragon prince had been particularly rough last night. The most rough he had ever been with her, his ire all-encompassing and blinding to her whimpers of pain and not pleasure. Looking down to her lap Camellia grimaced by seeing on her thighs and sheets his dried seed in a pinkish hue, her blood the evidence of his anger.
She would never complain though, she was his good pet and she would take whatever he needed to give her, she was the one he looked for comfort and Camellia would always provide it to her dragon prince no matter the cost.
“You need to pack some of your things.” She looked up when Daemon said that, frowning in confusion, a sudden fear starting on the pit of her stomach.
“What for?”
“I’ll come pick you later today and bring you to the Red Keep.” He answered, still focused on getting ready for the day. “You’ll be Baela’s nursemaid.”
Camellia almost gasped at that, eyes going wide in disbelief.
“W-what?” She stuttered.
“My cousin is pregnant again, she’ll soon have no time to look after anyone but herself and the babe. Rhaenyra is just a child still with a caretaker of her own.” Daemon explained as if it was the obvious reasoning, distractedly putting Dark Sister on his hip. “I cannot trust anyone else in that place to take care of my daughter when I’m not there.”
“Will you have to leave?” Camellia asked, with another fear altogether, she had been spending so much time without Daemon she could barely bear it anymore. “Is the King sending you away?”
“Who knows with Viserys.” He just shrugged and finally looked at her, frowning at her state. ‘Maybe I should have stayed with Mysaria.’ He thought internally wincing at all the hand and finger shaped bruises all over her body, bite marks blooming on her collarbone and breasts. “I would rather be prepared in case he does.”
“Won’t the Lady Royce want her back if that happens?”
“Who cares? I want my child to be raised with family, my family. With my niece.” Daemon answered and then approached her side of the bed, reaching out a hand to caress her cheek. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you last night.”
“It’s fine.” Camellia smiled, accepting the apology, the closest thing to it he would ever say. “You needed it, my prince. That’s what I’m here for, whatever you need.”
“My little bird.” He leaned down for a kiss, his lips as gentle as his fingers still on her cheek.
“Will the King allow it?” She asked once they broke apart. “For your lover to work there? It could be considered indecent.”
“Fuck the king.” Daemon spit venomously. “It’s my daughter, I chose whoever I want to be her caretaker.”
“Alright.”
“Don’t pack much. The head of the castle staff will commission proper clothes for you to work… And you will have to quit your work at that seamstress.”
“I’ll do it this morning.” Camellia smiled wider, getting excited over this new turn, she was finally going to the Red Keep. To stay close to her dragon prince, to be the mother to his daughter. “When will you be back?”
“Later this afternoon. Be ready.” Daemon flashed her a mischievous grin before picking up his cloak and haphazardly. “Don’t forget to take the tea.”
Daemon was already turned, swiftly walking towards the door, and did not see Camellia’s smile falter and green eyes darkening in frustration and sadness. While listening to his steps, Camellia wished he would not demand that of her, she wished so much for children, for a family of her own. Why couldn’t she have that with her dragon prince? She pondered sadly, listening the door downstairs closing with a loud thud.
‘Why can’t he give me that when I’ve given him so much?’ Her thoughts turned dark, a dangerous choice swimming in her head. ‘Maybe there’s no need for tea anymore. I can be the mother of all his little dragons. We can be a family' Camellia smiled maliciously, choosing to have what she wanted. Determined to have what she deserved from her dragon prince.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon was again walking the corridors towards his niece’s room; he had spent the last couple hours wide awake while waiting the time to pass, laying on his own bed with dark thoughts flooding his mind. He even lost track of time and was only made aware it was time to go meet his family when one of Aemma’s maidservants came to let him know the queen took his daughter to the princess’ room. After taking a proper bath and putting on some decent clothes, he was off to the dreadful events that would surely unfold soon enough.
Once again, he entered Rhaenyra’s chambers without any announcements, both queen’s and princess’s sworn shields thoroughly used to his ways by now.
Daemon had never thought of Aemma Arryn as anything but his brother’s wife. By the time Alysanne summoned her to move from the Eyrie and come to court, Daemon was still a child himself with no other interests but to learn the sword, the lance and to pick up fist fights with the other boys. And when his interests in women were awakened, Viserys and Aemma were already married and with a child on the way.
However, watching her now swaying with his daughter in her arms while guiding an excited Rhaenyra on how to do a braid, seeing the perfect picture the three of them made Daemon for the first time thought that Aemma should have been the one to be his Vale wife. They were close in age, they got along great and Aemma understood him way better than his own brother. And Daemon certainly would have never had the same disregard Viserys had for Aemma’s gentle and delicate nature.
His brother’s selfish wants were slowly killing her, it was clear to see for anyone who looked close enough; her fire was almost extinguished from queenly court duties and the constant pregnancies. The start of a swell on her belly was only that much noticeable already thanks to how thin Aemma had become in the last couple years. Daemon would have treated her right, far better than Viserys ever did; and he would also have been a better father to Rhaenyra. This family should have been his, he was deserving of it, not Viserys.
“You need to stop this habit of skulking in corners watching people, Daemon.” Aemma said once she noticed him by the door, an odd expression on his face so she tried to joke. “It’s unseemly for a prince.”
‘Does she know?’ Daemon thought, sending a judgmental look her way but he quickly put that thought away. Aemma would have never done him dirty as Viserys often did; she would have sent word to him even if secretly so he would not be completely blindsided.
That was her problem though, Aemma saw too much good in people, especially if they were family, never thought nor saw the bad and harming ways the closest people to her could and would often cause to her. Daemon was sure she was probably lied to by Viserys when noticing the new lord taking his position, he wouldn’t put it past his brother.
“Is everything alright, Daemon?” Aemma asked now really worried over whatever was plaguing his mind. That stormy expression on his face never boded well.
“Aye, sure.” Daemon replied, easily changing his expression and putting away any troubling thoughts. He would not allow Viserys to ruin this moment with his family, with his daughter and niece.
“Look, kepus!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, High Valyrian always on the ready to speak with him. She came running towards him from where she was standing in front of her mirror. “Muña has been teaching me how to do braids. I did this one all on my own.”
“Well done, little one.” Daemon crouched down to be eye-level with her, and touched the single braid on her silver hair. “It’s a pretty braid, just like you.”
“I’ll be doing Valyrian braids like you and muña in no time!”
“Your uncle’s hair has grown enough, you can train on him.” Aemma suggested, relieved for the change in mood.
“Aye. I’ll teach you how and then when Baela’s hair grows you can teach her too, yes?” Daemon said and then gave her a kiss on the nose.
Rhaenyra smiled excited with that, she loved her kepus’ soft silver hair and it was finally growing back so she could return to play with it again. And of course she would be the one to teach everything to little Baela, she was her cousin after all, no one else should have the honour. She ran back to where her mother was and the reached her arms up.
“Can I take her to kepa’s solar, please?” She asked politely, a sweet smile to her mother. Aemma had taught her how to hold a baby earlier after Rhaenyra basically threatened to only get ready for the day after she knew how to hold her cousin.
“It’s a long way there, my darling. You can hold her once we're there.” Aemma tried to decline but she should have known better than to deny Rhaenyra when Daemon was around.
“Do you know how, princess?” Daemon asked while taking Baela from Aemma’s arms, the queen glaring at him as if to say “really?” but he just grinned at her.
“Yes! Muña taught me that too.”
“Well then, I don’t see why not.” He agreed with her wish and helped her in holding Baela, the baby gurgling and looking up at the two of them with curious eyes.
“She should have your eyes, kepus.” Rhaenyra repeated the same thing she had commented to Aemma once she saw Baela’s brown eyes. And she did not like her mother’s explanation that she had inherited that from the Royce woman.
“Well, I guess she had to have at least one Westerosi imperfection.” Daemon was also not pleased she inherited that particular trait but at least that was the only Royce trait she had so far, everything else was all Targaryen.
“Hm.” Rhaenyra looked down at her baby cousin and then distractedly started walking away from the adults towards her chambers doors, ignoring everyone else. She then started whispering to little Baela. “Maybe it will change with time, cousin. If it doesn’t you are still as pretty as kepus is. And you will become as pretty as me even with those brown eyes.”
Daemon and Aemma smiled at the endearing image, whatever else Rhaenyra kept saying lost to them once she was out of the door. Her caretaker and the nursemaid following quickly behind.
“I’m glad she came to accept Baela so readily.” Daemon commented, offering his arm for Aemma to take.
“It doesn’t surprise me.” Aemma said and then offered a smile to Ser Steffon when they passed him by the door, her sworn shield following them while Ser Harrold was already close behind Rhaenyra and Baela. “She loves and sees you as hers. Of course anything from you she considers hers as well… Besides, my darling has always wanted some company her age. She’s too lonely sometimes, I’m afraid.”
“It’s not your fault, Aemma.” Daemon tried as he often did whenever she would beat herself up over the babies’ losses.
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” He insisted. “If anyone it’s to blame, it’s grandmother and grandsire. They should have known better than to marry you off that young after what happened to your mother… And Viserys too shouldn’t being pushing past your limits.”
“He’s the King, Daemon. He needs an heir.” Aemma tried to defend her husband, the same old reason she’s used to delude herself with to bear the burden imposed on her by Viserys. Though she would never defend nor forgive their grandparents, she knew better than that now.
“He has me doesn’t him?” Daemon returned. “He has Rhaenyra. He has Baela now. What the fuck more can he possibly want?”
“A son. As all men do.”
“I’m very happy with my daughter. I’ll never complain nor take it for granted.”
“Well, cousin, you are an entirely different sort of man.” Aemma smiled at him, and tried to lighten the mood, not liking the tense turn on their conversation. She had no wishes to linger on those sorts of things; she had long ago accepted this was her one and only fate.
Daemon only hummed and then tried to steer away from those sensitive topics as well; it would not do to keep his anger fresh when facing his brother. He needed some otherworldly strengthen and concentration to avoid becoming a kinslayer and to play the game without allowing not a single crack to appear on his mask.
When they finally arrived at the king’s private dining room, Rhaenys and her family were already there. Daemon tensed at seeing her, it was the very first time they saw each other after their confrontation; Rhaenys had promptly left right after the coronation proceedings were finished – a dragon egg secured on her arms to give to her son – and stayed in Driftmark even when her husband had come to court for his position on the small council.
“Cousin.” Rhaenys greeted him after giving a small bow to Aemma and then a kiss to her cheek.
“Oh but aren’t you a beautiful girl?” Viserys cooing voice interrupted anything else they might say to each other.
Daemon looked to where his daughter was now on Viserys’ arms, Lord Corlys and his children surrounding the king and trying to have a look at the baby. Daemon’s wishes to have his girl fawn upon and the centre of attention had turned to ashes hours ago and now all he wanted was to take her and Caraxes away. Steal his precious niece too while at it.
Speaking off his niece, the girl was sulking by the sides, probably unhappy to not be the centre of attention or to have had her cousin taken from her. ‘Likely both, my greedy dragon.’ Daemon thought amused.
“Well done, brother.” Viserys said finally looking at him, all smile and proudness.
Daemon could only muster a false small smile in return, not confident he could speak yet without screaming his fury at Viserys’ face.
“Can I?” Rhaenys asked directly at him, a hopeful look in her eyes.
Daemon nodded his permission and this time spared a genuinely smile. He watched her pick up Baela from Viserys and smile widely, genuine fondness shining in her eyes, all his family now surrounding his girl and for one second Daemon could pretend all was well and this was just a simple family gathering to cherish the new addition to the family. It lasted just a second before the weight of Viserys’ hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.
“I am really happy for you, Daemon.” He said, sounding truthful but it was too late now. His latest betrayal had cut Daemon to his very soul. “Never thought I would see the day but here we are. I just wish father was here as well, he would have loved to have another grandchild.”
“So do I.” Daemon said, knowing if his father was here, if Baelon was the king, their family wouldn’t be falling at the seams like this. They wouldn’t have been left vulnerable to the vultures and leeches to feast on their blood.
He walked to the little gathering and as politely as he could in his current mood asked for his daughter back, she has being made a spectacle of long enough. And there was still the court later, another wish Daemon was regretting now.
As soon as they were all seated at the table, the brothers sitting at both heads of the table opposite each other, Rhaenyra came to stand beside him with pleading eyes instead of sitting on the empty chair next to Rhaenys’ girl. She didn’t even need to say or ask what she wanted, Daemon gave her an indulgent smile before petting his leg and helping her up to sit with him and Baela. His girls a shield, a protective wall against everyone else.
Aemma tsked disapprovingly and Viserys also shot him a look but neither said anything, both knew better them to let the Velaryon see the cracks in their family.
“I must say…” Lord Corlys started, sitting at Viserys left side. “I did not meet your mother when she was a babe but I met her when she was a young girl. Your daughter has a striking resemblance to Princess Alyssa, Daemon.”
“Oh really?” Viserys asked, not pleased to be reminded yet again how little he took after his parents.
Daemon just looked down at his daughter, trying to fit the blurry memories of his mother into Baela’s face but being unsuccessful. The only clear memory he had of Alyssa Targaryen was of soft blonde curls, green and lilac eyes, and a laugh that could melt the coldest of hearts.
“She’s definitely the spit image of Daemon as a babe… And you really are the male version of Aunt Alyssa.” Rhaenys commented fondly, her aunt had been such an expiration to her and Rhaenys was heartbroken when her father told her favourite aunt was gone.
“That’s good to know.” Daemon said smiling down at his little Baela with love, a rare sight for him to display so publically, even with family.
“I told you, cousin, you are the prettiest babe.” Rhaenyra said earning a laugh from the rest of the table.
“Didn’t you declare just last night you're the prettiest babe, darling?” Aemma teased her little girl.
“I’m a pretty girl now, muña, she can be a pretty babe.” She replied in the simplistic view only a child her age could have. Then she turned to Laena who was sitting at their side and said all polite but sincerely too “You are a pretty girl too, Laena. I loved your dress.”
“Oh thank you! Your dress is very pretty too, princess.” Rhaenys’ girl lighted up and the two of them quickly delved into a conversation of their own, giggling and whispering to each other.
As did everyone else at the table but Daemon, he kept to himself and only said anything when directly spoken too. They were all used to his shifting moods by now that they left him be without pushing too much; although he was sure Viserys didn’t as he liked to do just because of the news he would have to give Daemon later.
Daemon took the time to observe Rhaenys children, he only saw them a few times when they were babies themselves and Rhaenys would bring them to the capitol at behest of Alysanne’s request. Being a child himself back then he held no interest to properly meet babies whatsoever.
Although they at first looked all Velaryon, really taking after their father with their dark skin and curly hair, Daemon could still see traces of Rhaenys in them, especially in little Laena; she had a elegance to her face and her smile that was all her mother. Though both had the distinct Valyrian silver hair, only Laenor had inherited Rhaenys violet eyes while Laena’s was as Velaryon blue as Lord Corlys’. They were too young though for Daemon to have a real opinion of them; at least Laena seemed genuine enough while thoroughly engaged with Rhaenyra. But they were still their father’s children, he would have to keep a close eye on them.
Daemon turned his attention back to the adults, assessing and listening only to whatever may be of importance. Viserys and Corlys seemed to have strike quite the friendship since the sailor had taken residence in the Red Keep and kept to his position at the Small Council. Daemon had serious doubts about how truthful that was. Corlys was more of the ilk Daemon was than Viserys’; the man and he had started a burgeoning camaraderie in their frustrations towards the council and the king’s decisions.
Besides a sailor, Corlys was also a battle proven warrior himself and they had share tales of their exploits many a night over a glass of wine whenever Daemon was at the capitol. And not only battle exploits, no, Lord Corlys also had an appetite for young maidens similar to Daemon. He felt bad for his cousin knowing how often her husband strayed from their marriage bed. At least the man wasn’t perverted enough to invite Daemon for a stroll at the Street of Silk despite his loose tongue when drunk enough but they definitely had fucked the same silver haired girls there.
The ease conversation between Aemma and Rhaenys though showed that the two were once more bonding with each other, motherhood and family nostalgia always did made their interaction flow more genuinely. Daemon was happy to see Aemma have someone else that could actually provide her with true company instead of the hollowness of her ladies-in-waiting.
“Muña, kepa, can I go show cousin Leana the tapestries and paintings in the Arts Solar?” Rhaenyra asked, interrupting the adults’ conversation, after she sufficiently stuffed herself full with the desserts on the table.
“That is so nice of you, my darling.” Aemma said at the same time Viserys and Corlys exclaimed what a great idea that was.
“Someone will go fetch you girls when it’s time for the court presentation.” Viserys added, a proud smile for his daughter initiative to befriend Rhaenys’ girl.
“Can I take Baela with us, kepus?” She asked turning to look up at Uncle Daemon.
“She’s much too young for that, little love.” Daemon replied to which Rhaenyra pouted. “When she’s older we can show her.”
“Alright then.” Rhaenyra agreed before straining her neck to give a kiss on his jaw and then leaning forward for a kiss on little Baela’s forehead.
“Laenor, go accompany the princess and your sister.” Lord Corlys was quick to suggest making Daemon grit his teeth.
To avoid say anything that would ensue tension and discussion, Daemon helped Rhaenyra to the floor and watched her gracefully reach out a hand for Laena to hold, the two girls then sauntered off hand in hand with a disgruntled Laenor trailing behind.
The Velaryon was none too subtle in his clear wish for his kids to be close to Rhaenyra and Daemon would really have to keep a close eye on that. Next thing a betrothal would be suggested, no doubt; something he wouldn’t allow not even if he was dead in the seven hells.
His musings were interrupted when Rhaenys asked to know more about little Baela, a teasing tone in her voice over asking Daemon of all man about fatherhood. He certainly surprised them all when he talked more than he had so far by telling everything Baela ever did in those three moons of life. Proud and joy exuding from him. For another moment he forgot all about his anger and the troubles soon to come, he was just a newly father talking with his caring family about his baby daughter.
--
Daemon assessed each and every single person gathered in the throne room, assessed the look in their eyes towards his daughter, assessed them for danger. He had hated to give Baela to Viserys while he stood aside in the steps of the Iron Throne and was grateful when Rhaenyra’s little hands encompassed his own, a weight to keep him from acting on the impulses he wanted. His other hand stayed on the hilt of Dark Sister.
The whole Targaryen family was standing on the foot of the throne, Rhaenys and her children included, for the false unity Viserys so desired to showcase the realm. Daemon saw the proud glint in Lord Corlys eyes watching them and the sour expression on Otto’s face; he really needed to find a solution for those two before it was way too late. Although it felt as it already was.
Sounds of clapping echoes in the grand room when Viserys finished his speech that Daemon did not even listen to, it was all hallow words he was sure. To his relief, Aemma was quick to approach Viserys and get little Baela from him, then walked to where he and Rhaenyra still stood.
“Rhaenys and I planned to spend sometime in the garden this morning.” She said. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep this one to myself for now.”
“Can I keep her to myself, kepus?” Rhaenyra asked looking up at him.
“Of course, little love.” He replied with a smile. “Just be careful with her.”
“I will, kepus, I promise.” She said before going to her mother’s side.
“We will see you later then?” Aemma asked, it did not go unnoticed the dark mood Daemon was in all morning nor the uncomfortable way Viserys was acting around his brother. Something was up with those two and that never ended way.
“Yes. I’ll be bringing someone to the keep to be Baela’s nursemaid.”
Before Aemma could question who was it and why exactly he wanted some strange new person around his daughter, Viserys stopped by Daemon’s side and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Come, brother, the council will start shortly.” Viserys smiled at his wife, happy to see her with a small babe again in her arms and hoping that soon it would be their son and heir being presented to court. “I’ll see you later, my love.”
Aemma smiled and gave a nod of agreement, both parents not noticing Rhaenyra hopeful look at them, but Daemon did so he crouched down and pulled her into a hug and whispered in High Valyrian to her. Viserys’ mouth turned down in a frown by seeing that, thinking it was past time Daemon stopped showered Rhaenyra with so much attention, she was becoming too old for that to be proper. As her father, that was his job, Daemon had a daughter of his own now there was no more need to be stealing his Rhaenyra’s attention.
After giving a soft pat to little Baela’s head, Daemon strode out of the throne room and towards the council chambers without waiting for anyone and paying no one any mind. Once inside the chambers, Daemon sat at his usual chair by Viserys side out of habit and waited for the rest of the council to arrive; it did not take long for Viserys to arrive alone and ask for the guard outside to close the doors.
‘At least no audience for this.’ Daemon thought almost relieved he would not have to restrain himself so much trying to keep a neutral mask to others while receiving this news.
“Before the council begins, I wanted to talk with you first, brother.” Viserys said sitting down.
“Alright. Talk about what?” He decided to pretend unawareness.
“Well… Sadly, you did not fit as well as I expected in the position of master of laws.” Viserys started, clearly not at all prepared for any good excuses for his actions. “Though you acted way better than when you were master of coin, your way of doing things are still… Too harsh.”
“Hm.” Was Daemon expressed when Viserys looked at him expectantly for his reaction.
“You’re a knight, brother. A battle proven one thanks to all your time spent in Essos.” He continued in a more relaxed manner, as if assuaged by Daemons stillness and calm demeanour. “You’re not built for all these politicking, for the boring little details of ruling… I should have saw that and spare us the trouble sooner.”
“The trouble of having me around?” Daemon asked, hand tightly clenched around Dark Sister hilt under the table.
“Wh-what? No, of course not, Daemon!” Viserys denied, flushing red and shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, you know how to cause trouble and like to exasperate me but I do want you around, brother. Here with us, with your family.”
“Right.” Daemon looked unimpressed at his brother, blank expression finally making Viserys notice he should not be relieved over Daemon behaviour at that moment.
“All I’m saying is that I should have know better and should have found you a position truly fit for you.” He tried again, hoping that would assuage Daemon and he would comprehend his decision. “Master of coin, master of law, that’s not for you, brother. We both know you don’t like…”
“So you’re going to kick me out again?” Daemon interrupted him.
“No, Daemon.” Viserys answered in a more stern voice. “The council and I have appointed a new Master of Law…”
“Already? Without even informing me that I was not in the position anymore? Just like that?”
“You were at Runestone, enjoying time with your daughter, there was no need to bother you with such matters.”
“Are fucking serious, Viserys?” Daemon looked at his brother and could not understand how did he became that man in front of him. How could he be saying those things in all seriousness?
“You were going to come to court soon enough, this could wait…” Viserys said, not seeing the same problems as Daemon, not understanding why his brother always had to be so dramatic. “Besides, Otto and I…”
“Of course.” Daemons snorted a humourless laugh, he had just being waiting for that exact sentence. “Otto fucking Hightower. Of course he finally convinced you to oust me again. What was is it this time? Whatever did I do to harm Ser Otto’s sensibilities?”
“Daemon, do not start.”
“Do not start what, Viserys? You do this shit to me, treat me like I’m fucking nothing to you and you want me to simply accept it?”
“It was a wise and sensible decision for us to make.” Viserys stated almost as if ignoring Daemon’s words.
Even if it had felt wrong at that time, Viserys knew how precious it was to spend time with one’s newborn child, he really did not want to bother Daemon with small matters. He did not know how long Daemon would stay at Runestone and Otto had been right about their need to find a replacement quick for such important position as Master of Law; and he still did not know what to do with Daemon.
He felt bad but it had been the wise decision to simply wait for Daemon to return to tell him about it, and that would give Viserys time to decide what to offer his brother. Fortunately, his friend Otto was always wise to have a good resolution for his troubles. Kings need to make hard choices, no matter their personal feelings, Viserys wish Daemon could be able to understand that.
“Us who? You and that Hightower cunt?”
“Me and my council.” Viserys sighed and leaned back into the chair. He was so tired of the constant discussions, problems and fights. With Daemon, with his council and sometimes that made him wish the old king hadn’t chosen him as heir. “Look, brother, I don’t wish for us to fight, alright?”
“Should have thought of that before treating me like some shit down in Flea Bottom instead of your brother.”
“That was never my intention, Daemon, and I’m sorry if you feel this way. I know you’re upset right now over this but it was the best decision, you’ll see that in time.”
Daemon returned to stare blankly at his brother, even if inside he was baffled at Viserys continued to act like that. It was as if he did not listen to a word Daemon said, as if he was acting mechanically as a puppet on strings.
“Besides, as I’ve been trying to say, I’ll not leave you empty handed.” Viserys continued, a small and tentative smile gracing his face. “I was unsure of what would suit you better but then Otto suggested something that…”
“Of course he did.” Daemon snorted again and rolled his eyes. ‘A puppet indeed.’ He thought bitterly, wondering why couldn’t his brother think for himself for once.
“Despite your animosity towards each other, I know you both want was best for the realm and my reign so I wish for this petty squabble to be put to rest.”
Daemon did not dignify him with an answer to that. Viserys was truly well past blindness if all he saw was some petty squabble happening, a simple animosity that could be forgotten and forgiven.
“I’m sure you are going to like Otto’s suggestion.” Viserys smiled tentatively again, sure his brother would be happy with his new duty. “You’re proven yourself to be good at commanding men when you brought that little army here and we all know you’re one of the best swordsman. So I think the post as Commander of the City Watch will be really fitting for you.”
“The city watch is in shambles. A shithole with shittier knights doing fuck all. Do you want me to be commander of that?” Daemon asked in indignation.
“A little challenge and work to be done, yes but I’m sure you can beat them into shape.”
Daemon closed his eyes and sighed heavily, praying to all Fourteen for them to grant him the patience needed not to kill his own brother. As if answering him, an idea struck and a plan started to quick form in his mind eye; yes he was good a commanding men, he was a good at being the leader of an army. Otto Hightower probably thought he was diminishing Daemon by making Viserys put him in such a place. Daemon would show to them both what he was truly made of then.
They were giving him power and didn’t even know it. Daemon would take it and wield it as he saw fit; he would do as he always did, make something of and for himself by the blood and sweat of his own work. Viserys may have given him that position and tittle but Daemon would earn it as he did everything else.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Viserys I Targaryen small council:
Otto Hightower – Hand of the King
Lyman Beesbury – Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer
Corlys Velaryon – Master of Ships and Lord Admiral
Lyonel Strong - Master of Laws
Grand Maester Runciter
Ser Ryam Redwyne – Lord Commander of the Kingsguard
Notes:
Give me your thoughts if you liked it pls , kudos& comments are very much appreciated!!!!
So here's baby Baela first appearance and Daemon already getting into his daddy's girl era 🤭 And since I always thought babe Rhae grew up a lonely child, that's why she accepted this new addition to the family without much fuss.
And the Velaryons are back and they will have a more consistent presence from now on. Corlys out here already plotting as usual!About shithead Viserys: is it a bit too farfetched idea for him to do something like that? Did I went a bit too far? Yeah maybe but I live for The Drama so that's what we having 😏
Plus in canon, the book at least, it always took something big for Daemon to try and free himself from Viserys' shackles. Show!Daemon tho ughAnd if Daemon is getting sidetracked from his original plan about the vale it's on purpose alright , we getting back to that little plotline more ahead in the story 😉
Also, Otto and his cronies probably panicked over Daemon impending fatherhood so this time around Aemma's pregnancy isn't showing any problems, for now that is 🫣
Links for some visuals/imagery if you're interested:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-9/
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfit-chapter-9/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/aemma-arryn-targaryen/outfits-chapter-9/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenys-targaryen-velaryon/outfit-chapter-9/
Mysaria's brothel office: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/77/98/35/7798352531a5f4c98df212a98a4e610a.jpg (yep i'll be stealing Littlefinger's cause the aesthetic fits Mysaria really well)
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/laena-velaryon/outfit-chapter-9/
Characters' ages by the end of this chapter:
Daemon - 23
Rhaenyra - 7
Aemma - 22
Viserys - 28
Rhaenys - 30
Corlys - 50
Laena - 11
Laenor - 13
OC Camellia - 16
Mysaria - 25
See you in the next one 🥰😘
Chapter 11: Chapter Ten: 105 AC - Part II
Notes:
Hey there 👋🏽😁
Sorry to take another while to update buuut I'm still lost up Star Wars ass 😅 The little project I started was supposed to be just a big oneshot but since I've no control whatsoever it turned out into a whole entire story 🤭
Anyways I'm hopeful I'll finish it in the next couple weeks so I can go back to focus on this story, fingers crossed!This chapter is all about our future queen and king consort sue me 😌
Reminder for you guys to mind the tags. And that english is not my mother tongue and this work is unbetaed, sorry for any grammar mistakes. And the pictures on the moodboards are not mine, I picked it from pinterest 🤗
High Valyrian is in bold-italic
I hope you like it!!
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra nibbled the food on her plate barely even tasting it because of how uncomfortable she felt with the tense and dark air surrounding her family during their dinner. Her muña was sitting stiffly beside her, utterly focused on her own plate and not conversing with her father as the couple usually did. Her father was almost aggressively eating his food while throwing glares towards the nursemaid in the corner putting little Baela to sleep and towards his silent brother as well.
The most distressing for Rhaenyra though was Uncle Daemon’s demeanor: although he was slouched in the chair as usual, his shoulder was set too straight and his jaw too clenched for him to be truly relaxed. He also was barely touching his food and Rhaenyra’s attempts to get him talking were a failure. It did not go unnoticed to her that in the week after his return, she never found him anywhere in the keep but for the very few times he would show up in her chambers while she was breaking her fast with muña and little Baela; a brief kiss to the three of them was all he would spare and then disappear again.
She was sure her father must have upset Uncle Daemon in some way. Despite never saying anything and really preferring to avoid the situation, Rhaenyra by now was aware that sometimes the two brothers did not get along as they should. She also quickly learned it was often her father to cause some rift and upset her kepus.
For the angered way Uncle Daemon arrived at the king’s solar, he was probably ordered by her father to attend this dinner instead of coming of his own free will. Her kepus had not yet sat down once to share a meal with their family as he usually did whenever returning from his travels, a part from that morning after his arrival.
Then her father cheerful disposition tonight died down the moment her kepus arrived with not only Baela but her new nursemaid as well. Now Rhaenyra had to endure this awful dinner time.
Rhaenyra hmphed in annoyance and decided to take matters into her own hands. If the two brothers wouldn’t conciliate on their own and her mother the queen wouldn’t say something to make them stop with this ridiculousness, then it fell to her to ensure their family’s well-being. Papa Baelon did use to say it would be her job to love and protect his sons whenever he could not, it was one of the very few distinct memories of him still with her.
And she just knew what to do to make Uncle Daemon happy again and to make her father stop with his pig-headed way towards his baby brother.
“Kepa.” Rhaenyra started lowering her voice to a soft and sweet tone, looking at him with big wide eyes.
“Yes, my dear?” Unlike his brother, Viserys was glad to entertain Rhaenyra if it meant lightening the air somewhat.
“Can I ask you something?” She put on her best smile and bat her eyelashes the way she knew made her father all pliant to her wishes. “It’s very important for me and I hope you can agree to it so my days will be happier.”
Aemma finally took her attention from her plate to look down at her daughter, wondering what her girl was plotting now.
“Of course, my dear. You know all I want is to see my girl happy.” Viserys smiled at her, proud of how polite and so very sweet his daughter was. A perfect princess. “If it’s within my power, I’ll certainly grant you.”
Aemma wanted to facepalm herself, yet again her husband agreeing to something without even knowing what exactly was it Rhaenyra wanted; their daughter really had both men of their family wrapped around her little fingers. She could only hope it wasn’t something as dangerous as her last wish.
“As our King and head of our house you are the one to grant us dragon eggs or to claim a dragon, right?” She asked innocently; she already knew that, it was why Princess Rhaenys had brought Laenor and they were visiting the dragonpit lately.
“Well, yes.” He replied frowning in confusion. “Why would you ask about it, my dear? You already have your own hatchling.”
“But my cousin Baela doesn’t.” Rhaenyra let out in a rush. Viserys eyes widened at that while Daemon sat straighter in his chair, squinting questioningly at her, while Aemma simply sighed in relief. Before her father could say anything or deny it straight away. “I know she’s only half Targaryen and a dragon egg may not hatch for her but cousin Laenor is also only half Targaryen and you let him have an egg and now to come claim a grown dragon of his own. It would be unfair not to give the same chance to your own niece.”
The adults looked speechless at Rhaenyra and she had to suppress a giggle. Just because she preferred to show only her sweet side – unless when she had to throw a tantrum to get her way –, to be just another little kid with childish plays and attitude, it did not mean she did not have any wits.
She was growing up in a royal court, as daughter and descendant of Conquerors, Kings and Queens, as a princess and as a dragon. Of course she was perceptive, observant and a quick learner. Rhaenyra may not show it for lack of reason to do so but she did have a sharp mind and if using that was what it took to force her family to make peace, then that was what she was going to use to make it happen.
“Besides, I’ve been on my own all these years.” She continued with a sad pout. “But now with little Baela here I can finally have a friend. How could we be true friends and cousins though if only I could have a dragon and go into the sky?’ She stood from her chair and went to her father’s side, grabbing at his tunic sleeve. “Kostilus, kepa… That would make me really happy. And Uncle Daemon too. We would all be a happy family again.”
Viserys gulped dryly looking at his daughter pleading eyes, the very same soft lilac shade of his Aemma he loved so much, unsure of what the right answer to that ask was. Then he looked up at Daemon, expecting to see some smug expression on his face, maybe any sign that he was the one to put Rhaenyra to this but he only found a hopeful look in his little brother’s eye that instantly reminded him of when they were just young boys.
Daemon had the exact same shade of purple of their mother’s one purple eye and after she died, his baby brother would always be trailing after Viserys with that same hopeful expression, wanting his attention and care, clinging to him and no one else.
It pained him they were now so distant from those days and had grown so far apart. His smart girl was right in that receiving a dragon egg for his daughter would make Daemon happy and although he had not said anything yet, Viserys had no doubt he was waiting for the right time to ask for it. And even if he knew that would be dangerous, a dragon in the hands of a Vale house and the first men instead of Valyrian blood, Viserys also knew Daemon would do the most to ensure his daughter shunned that side of her heritage in favor of their Targaryen blood only.
He did not want to quarrel with his brother anymore and to see Daemon constantly far away from their family, dissatisfied and angry. Viserys wanted for their family to be whole and happy, if gifting a dragon egg to Daemon would put them a step closer to that place then there was no harm it, was there?
And he did wish to see his daughter finally happy with a companion of her own age instead of skulking around behind Aemma and her ladies-in-waiting.
It would be a pain to discuss this with his council, he was sure but maybe it would be worth it if it meant making peace within his family. Viserys would have to pray to the Fourteen that Daemon would keep on his good behaviour, remain the grown man and father he had become.
“I think it is a wonderful idea, my darling.” Aemma said to help her husband in his struggle. Realizing Rhaenyra was probably trying to stop the conflict between brothers, her darling girl always hated strife; she was proud of how smart her girl was turning out to be each new day. “Despite her Royce blood, we know Daemon won’t want her to be anything other than Targaryen.”
Daemon remained silent but smirked at that, he sure wasn’t allowing his daughter to be anything but true Valyrian.
“Well, some stipulations will need to be made.” Viserys finally said, decided in his choice and then looked at Daemon. “I hope you can agree to that, brother?”
“Sure, whatever you think its best, brother.” Daemon answered with the first smile he spared Viserys in days, even if internally he wanted to punch his brother. He knew for a fact Viserys did not put any sort of conditions for Rhaenys’ and her Velaryon whelp but of course for Daemon he would finally figure out the dangers of giving dragons to outsiders.
“Then, my dear…” Viserys pulled Rhaenyra into his lap and gave her kiss. “You can go on the morrow to the Dragonpit and choose an egg for your cousin.”
“Kirimvose kepa!” Rhaenyra exclaimed and hugged her father, smiling satisfied that already the mood was lighter.
Once settled on her father’s lap, who was now ordering for the deserts to be brought at once, Rhaenyra looked at Uncle Daemon with an impish smile and when he looked at her with a mischievous smile of his own, she winked at him the way he loved to do. He would have his work cut out for him with that one, Daemon thought pleased.
--
On the morrow, Daemon forgo his new daily routine of inspecting the City Watch and its inner workings in favour of picking Rhaenyra for a trip to the Dragonpit.
The king had already sent word to the dragonkeepers that the princess was to choose a dragon egg that day and so when they arrived at the pit they were quickly ushered to the heating chamber where a little over a dozen dragon eggs were safely stored. Daemon grimaced at how small their number of dragon eggs was, remembering that the number of Dragons wasn’t that great either.
Some of the eggs were very old, from the time when the Black Dread was still around and strong enough to mate either Vhagar or Dreamfyre sometimes, and also from the time King Jaehaerys’ and Queen Alyssane’s mounts resided on the pit and would mate often. Many of those eggs though were shipped off to Dragonstone over the years whenever they would get cold or petrify.
The newer eggs were mainly clutches from Dreamfyre during her permanent stay in the pit ever since Princess Rhaena passed; he had heard the keepers comment that Vermithor would mate with the other she-dragon whenever Queen Alyssane’s mount took after her riders’ angry mood during mating season. He also knew for a fact his sly Caraxes had done the deed with the she-dragon too.
It was a shame truly their numbers was as low as the number of remaining Targaryens. That probably was not what Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya envisioned for their house when they set out to conquer Westeros, the might of Old Valyria reduced to what they are now.
Daemon shrugged himself off his thoughts and focused on Rhaenyra flitting around the heating chamber, his niece was talking more to herself and the eggs than actually to him while making her choice, and that made him smile at how endearing it was. Although the egg would go to his daughter, it had been Rhaenyra to secure her cousin that right, so Daemon would let her be the one to choose it and put it beside little Baela.
Rhaenyra went over every single dragon egg to be sure to find the right one, the one that would hatch and not go cold. She knew it was not really up to her, it was the Fourteen Flames that granted a Targaryen the right to claim a dragon, but she would make sure her cousin had the best chances for it to happen. She touched the eggs, feeling the temperature of each one and if she may be able to also feel any life stirring within; it was a marvel once she did felt it in a few of the eggs.
None called to her though, none felt truly right until she stopped in front of a green colored egg. It was a beautiful egg, its green was a very pale shade and there was some pearlescent veins between some parts of it, and it was more on the big side than small like some of the others. The scales were very hot to the touch and Rhaenyra could feel life beating inside of it, almost like a calling, a whispered dragonsong that resonated deep in her soul.
“This is the one, kepus.” Rhaenyra announced looking up at Uncle Daemon. “It is going to hatch for Baela, I can feel it.”
Daemon smiled and then picked her up into a tight hug, kissing her forehead.
“Thank you, my precious girl.” He said with genuine gratitude. His beautiful niece, she really was the one family member he could truly count on.
“Anything to see you happy, kepus.”
With the dragon egg secured in the warming container, the two Targaryen made the trek back to the Red Keep.
In the corridors on the way to the nursery, every courtier observed them and the two dragonkeepers transporting the container, whispering between themselves; Daemon knew before long that would be the talk of the keep. If his brother hadn’t had the courage to inform his councilmen yet, his courtiers would surely do the job by day’s end. He so wished he could be in the room to see the Hightower leech’s face when hearing about this victory.
Once they arrived in the nursery, Rhaenyra promptly picked up the egg and deposited it inside the crib right beside her little cousin sleeping form. She watched in awe as little Baela turned on her side and hugged the dragon egg, as if she had instinctively felt its presence, as if she had already bonded to it. Just like Uncle Daemon liked to tell she di when he put her dear Syrax’s egg beside her.
Rhaenyra silently sent a prayer to Aegarax, god of all creatures and creator of dragons, to allow the egg to hatch. And a prayer to Meraxes, goddess of the skies, to grant her a companion with whom she could brave the sky with.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
In some small dirty tavern deep in the heart of the shadiest part of Flea Bottom, Prince Daemon Targaryen had rented the place for the night, a heavy bag of coin almost making the owner fall to his knees in gratitude. He had spent the day scouring the city for almost two dozen men, the men he knew to be apt and trustworthy for the job he would offer them. Men he had fought with, men he had helped at some point and who had helped him as well in turn, men that were the closest thing he could call “friends”.
And they had not disappointed him, every single one of the men he personally invited had left whatever other plans they had to come to the meeting Daemon assembled without having a single clue whatever it was for. He trusted them, they trusted him. He called and so they answered.
His brother had once again pulled the rug from beneath his feet. Viserys had shown him once more exactly what he thought of Daemon. How little worth he had in his eyes. How little love and respect Viserys had to spare his only brother. Now Daemon would make him and his cunt of a Hand rue the day they had the brilliant idea to make him Commander of the City Watch.
That was not what he wanted even if his previous experience had proven that he had the talent for it. Master of Coin and Master of Law also wasn’t something he had truly wanted, not even an actual position in court beyond being a prince by birthright was something he desired. Daemon also secretly dreaded the prospect of being the heir and the one that may have to succeed his brother as king; he watched those positions eat away his grandparents, his uncle, his father, his cousin and now he watched what it did to his brother. He watched it wreak havoc on his family and that was the last thing Daemon wished to keep happening to them.
All Daemon ever wanted was to be at his family side, to be by his father’s and brother’s side, to be his family’s shield and sword. To be loved and accepted by them as he did them. To be seen, to be respected. To be valued as a person and not just as some inconvenient insect under someone’s boot. But if he could not have that, he would have something even if he had to get it by force. If he had to bring fire and blood to have what it was owed to him, Daemon would have no qualms about it anymore. One way or another he would have what he wanted.
“Gentlemen.” Daemon started in a mocking tone, standing front stage on the gathering of men. They all laughed, these men were anything but gentlemen. “You must be wondering what is it that you are here for. What in the fuck did I brought you here to this shitty establishment with even shittier wine and no whore around to entertain us?”
He grinned when the men laughed and yelled at him, all in good sport, all interested in whatever it is he had to say.
“Well, my friends, I have a proposition for you.” He said before gulping down the rest of the wine he had been drinking while waiting for all men to show up. “My brother has made me Commander of the City Watch.” If the men noticed the mocking in his voice he didn’t know but they certainly cheered at that. “As residents of the filthy that has become of our city, you and your family know the sorry state the City Watch is in. You live in the consequences of their incompetence.” The men all nodded and swore in agreement, not one of them born anywhere close to have some semblance of a decent life. “I’ve spent the last few days assessing the officers, the barracks, their internal workings and I must tell you… It’s worse than it appears to be.”
The room went in an uproar, anger and frustration being yelled left and right, Daemon almost smiled at that. It would be a useful tool to convince them and a useful tool to exact competence and loyalty.
“I called you here tonight because I know you. And you know me. We have drank together, we have whored together. But more importantly we have battled together.” Daemon said once the men went quiet again and this time the uproar was in a positive way. “We have fought in tourneys here in this city and across the realm for the glory of being called knights. We have fought in these city streets for the fun of breaking someone’s nose over a spilled drink or stolen whore. Some of us even fought together all the way in Essos.”
There were former landed knights, lowlife knights, there were simple lowborn man who just made fighting their business and there were mercenaries he himself had brought to Westerosi shores those many moons ago. Every single one of them was worth way more than the lecherous men of court.
“I know your talents, I know your values, I know how you like your drink and I know how you like your whores. So I believe that you, my friends, are the men for this job. I trust you to put on the necessary work, I trust you to be loyal and to be steadfast in upholding honor.… And that’s why I want you to be the first officers I’ll appoint to the new City Watch.” Daemon accepted another cup of wine from the barkeep, even he was listening in with utmost attention and interest, while listening to the men sheer. “I’ll build the City Watch anew. From scratch if necessary. There will be no more idle work, no more leaving the city to the rats. We will be the protectors this city needs. And I know you just as me do not stand for the thievery, for the rape and for the murder of the innocent and unfortunate people from our city!”
His men just became louder and louder, eyes sparkling with every word Daemon uttered.
“I want the rats, the leeches, the bad and evil of the city to fear even thinking in doing something when they see my officers out on the streets.” Daemon could already image, his man, his new army out bringing justice, spilling blood of anyone who dare step outside the line. “I want daughters, sisters, cousins and mothers to go out and not be snatched to some dark alley and raped by some filth. I want thieves to fear stealing what does not belong to them. I want murders to reap the blood of the innocent they spill. I want our people to know they are safe. And I want us to the job!” All the men stood up, yelling and loudly clattering their cups in agreement.
“Let me assure you that when I say us, I mean it.” Daemon continued with emphasis, if there was one thing he learned when gathering an army was that the man valued a leader who put on the work just as much as them. “I won’t sit by with my feet up while you do all the work. No, my friends, I’ll be out there with you. Recruiting worthy men like yourselves, training you and with you. I’ll sweat and bleed with you and for this city.”
“Hear, hear to our Commander!” the men yelled raising their cups.
“I’ll be your commander. I’ll be your leader. I’ll be your comrade in arms. I’ll make something worthy out of each and every one of you… And trust me when I tell you and your families will be greatly compensated for it.”
‘I will be your fucking king.’ Daemon thought while listening to all the loud cheers and praise, all the clapping and ovation in his name.
He had no need for a crown. He could make his own kingdom. That was who he was. That was what he made of himself through pain and blood. That was what his brother failed to see and Daemon would make sure he regretted it.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra finished reading the story book her kepus was holding in front of them out loud and then looked up at him, smiling with pride for reading it all in High Valyrian without any mistakes or stuttered sentences.
“You did great, little love.” Daemon said with a proud smile of his own and then put the book on the small table beside her bed.
“Thank you, kepus. I’ve learned from the best.” She said while rearranging herself on the bed to sleep, careful not to disturb little Baela between them.
It had become their new routine during those few weeks since her kepus came back, albeit a secret one this time, for Uncle Daemon to come most nights through that odd and unknown door by her bed that she was very curious to find out where else it led to – very late into the night, way past her usual time to sleep but she now learned to stay awake just so she would wait for him – with little Baela in his arms, then the three of them would squeeze themselves on Rhaenyra’s bed for her to read them some Valyrian tale or another her kepus also brought with him.
Where he found some many Valyrian books was a mystery to her, Rhaenyra knew there weren’t that many Valyrian books or scrolls left in the castle’s library. Uncle Daemon always left the books he brought with her though so she certainly wouldn’t complain and was gladly making her very own book collection.
Her cousin would almost always surprisingly come very much awake despite the late hour but would quickly fall asleep once laying squeezed between them and just after a few sentences Rhaenyra had read. But little Baela rarely made any sound while there, almost as if she understood it was a secret, just restlessly wiggling around for a bit before falling asleep. Their Baela was just like them, the blood of the dragon run thick in her veins, Uncle Daemon loved to boast about and Rhaenyra very much agreed; and she could not wait for her cousin to grow up so the two of them could cause all sorts of chaos together.
After little Baela would sleep, Uncle Daemon would always wait for her to fall asleep too before taking Baela back to the nursery and going back to whatever it is that he did with the rest of his night. Rhaenyra had heard rumors of course of what it is that her kepus liked to do at night, especially now with that red bitch that people said was his lover being around taking care of Baela. But those rumors were too gross for her to think about.
The books her kepus brought for the night were always small ones, just a few pages about some little tale of Old Valyria or their legends or the dragonlords of old. Enough for her to read in an hour or less, enough to make Baela sleep and herself get sleepy; luckily her parents had always indulged her taste for sleeping well into the morning so her new sleeping routine did not affect her day so much. Not that she had much to do these days.
Now with both Baela and her other cousin Laena around, she did not need to accompany muña so much in her queenly duties anymore; she also didn’t need to spend time with her mother’s ladies-in-waiting for lack of options. Lessons with a septa and her tutors were still needed but now she had Laena to accompany her to them and so now she actually had some fun during those boring lessons, time flew by while they were there.
Unfortunately, Uncle Daemon would spend most days absent from the castle due the new position her father gave him. Rhaenyra would never forget the first and only time she ever heard muña be so furious – with kepa of all people! – hours later after he announced it at a family dinner as an answer to muña and aunt Rhaenys’ question as to why Uncle Daemon had missed another diner and was so often away from the keep.
The two of them thought she was well asleep but she had been conscious enough still to listen in their conversation. But too sleepy to fully grasp their hissed whispers. Something about lying and going behind somebody’s back, about disrespecting a relative in such awful way; how and why exactly though Rhaenyra did not understood. And she did not understood why muña thought Uncle Daemon new position was so bad, he seemed to love it. He even told her that.
Adults were a mystery she was not looking forward to solve. They were too confusing and too frustrating, she had no patience for them half the time. Her kepus was the only exception to that because he was the best adult of all.
She was sad he had not much time for her now with his new duties, she had hoped to spend every hour of the day with him once he was back like they used to but that was just another frustrating thing about being an adult she assumed. At least now she had little Baela and she had Laena, and even cousin Laenor was good company too.
In the absence of her kepus, Rhaenyra would now go to the dragonpit with her Velaryon relatives, aunt Rhaenys was more than happy to have her tag along to spent time with the dragons.
Her cousin Laenor had claimed one of the two young dragons that still resided in the pit and were unclaimed. He named it Seasmoke for its coloring, a silly name to give a dragon Rhaenyra thought but it was fitting nonetheless. The dragon was just a couple years older than Syrax according to the dragonkeepers and was a bit bigger than her dragon too, enough to be ready to be saddled but not mounted to fly just yet.
So now Rhaenyra also had a companion for her dragon riding and taming lessons. Aunt Rhaenys would go with them to help with it, to teach them by showing all of it with her very own dragon. The Red Queen, a dragon that had been her grandmother’s once, was an impressive dragon and so very big that she made hers and Laenor’s dragons seem like ponies when standing close. Rhaenyra even had gone on a ride on Meleys, in memory of Alyssa, aunt Rhaenys had said to kepa later during dinner.
When Rhaenyra told the same thing to her kepus he had become so sad over it that Rhaenyra never again flew on Meleys even when aunt Rhaenys invited her to. Even if Uncle Daemon was never around to take her on flights and she was dying to taste the sky, she would wait for when he could take her or for when her golden girl was ready; anything not to see that sad look on her kepus pretty purple eyes again.
“What do you so intensely think about, little love?” Uncle Daemon asked, voice low and soft just for her to hear.
“That I don’t like to see you sad, kepus.” Rhaenyra said looking up at him.
“I’m not sad, princess. I have my two girls with me, I have no reason to be sad.”
“But what about when we are not with you?” She asked with a frown. “Or when kepa upsets you?”
“Well, then I just think about you two not to become sad.” Daemon replied honestly, not surprised Rhaenyra had noticed the strain in his and Viserys’ relationship; his niece was as observant and perceptive as Aemma.
“Will we really go flying tomorrow morning?” She changed the subject, satisfied by his answer. Her kepus had promised earlier to take her and Baela flying in the morning.
“Of course. It’s my precious girl’s nameday.” He said with an impish smile and messed her hair. “Just one of many gifts, little love.”
“There’s more than one?!” Rhaenyra whisper-exclaimed in excitement, she loved receiving gifts, especially if they were from Uncle Daemon.
“What kind of uncle would I be if there wasn’t?” Daemon winked at her and then chuckled at her soft giggles.
“What is it, these other gifts?”
“First we’re going flying, then I’ll win my princess her crown of Queen of Love and Beauty… But the rest is a surprise.”
“Can’t you tell me just one other, kepus?” Rhaenyra tried with that usual pleading look she did to gain whatever she wanted.
It would not work this time though so Daemon only nodded his head in denial before leaning to give her forehead a kiss.
“It’s just a few more hours away, princess.” He assuaged her, gently pulling at her pouty lower lip. “Go to sleep and tomorrow I’ll spoil you all you want.”
“Promise, kepus?” She asked, huge innocent, hopeful and loving eyes looking back at him; a look Daemon rarely saw directed at him by anyone but his niece and now his own daughter.
“I promise, precious.”
Rhaenyra beamed at that, knowing her kepus would never break a promise to her, not one made in their mother tongue, not ever.
Sleep claimed her quick and easily after that, her face buried in little Baela soft and wonderful baby smell tufts of silver hair and with her uncle gently tracing his fingers on her back. Now her nights were the best she ever had. And tomorrow would be her best nameday ever, Rhaenyra was sure of it.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was still morning and Rhaenyra was already swimming in gifts of all kinds. Her parents came to her room as soon as she was awake, a dozen of servants entering after them with arms full of all her presents; some from her parents, some from the Velaryons and some from other important Houses. Rhaenyra barely touched her favorite food they also brought with them to break their fast together, more focused in flitting around opening and marveling over her presents.
“And you accuse me of spoiling her.” Daemon commented when he entered the open doors of the princess’ antechamber.
“Kepus.” Rhaenyra smiled at him, cheeks flushed from all the excitement, then she frowned at his empty hands but for little Baela. “Where are my presents?”
“I think you have quite enough, princess.” He replied with an impish smile.
“Of course not. My girl deserves this and much more.” Viserys said.
“You both spoil her too much. No wonder she is so demanding like this.”
“It’s my nameday, muña. I can be demanding.” Rhaenyra retorted with chin raised.
“And what is the excuse for all the other days, young lady?” Aemma asked in teasing.
“Because I’m a princess. And a dragon.” She answered without thinking twice.
“Now you sound just like your uncle.” Viserys commented with a weak smile, never pleased to see how much influence Daemon exerted on his daughter.
“Why don’t you go change into your riding clothes, princess?” Daemon suggested throwing a smug look at Viserys. “My first gift is for us to go flying, have you forgotten?”
“Of course not, kepus. I’ll go change now.” Rhaenyra stood up quickly from the floor and almost ran to her room, carelessly stepping on the gifts she had just fawned over a minute ago.
“Rhaenyra, at least eat some more first.” Aemma bemoaned, standing up as well and following after her daughter.
“There is no time muña. We’re going flying.” Rhaenyra’s muffled answer could be heard from the other room before Aemma closed the doors behind them.
Daemon walked to the table and sat on the chair his cousin had just vacated, ignoring the sudden tension in the room and the furtive glances Viserys threw at him; this was probably the first time in weeks the brothers were truly alone. Daemon distracted himself by balancing Baela in one arm while putting some food on a plate with his free hand, he wasn’t overly fond of sweet food and desserts as Rhaenyra clearly favored – a taste she inherited from both grandmothers – but he haven’t had a decent breakfast in a while.
Life in the barracks of the City Watch was far from luxurious even for the Commander and a prince, so he would indulge while he could.
“Don’t take too long out there in the skies.” Viserys broke the silence, too uncomfortable with that awful tension that insisted on lingering between them. “The tourney will start in just a few hours and Rhaenyra is the star of the day.”
“Don’t worry, Viserys, I’ll bring her back with time to spare.” Daemon said without looking from his plate. “I can’t be late either, I have a tourney to win.”
“You will participate then?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, you’ve been so busy lately. Rarely coming to the keep anymore… I thought you might prefer to take the day for some rest.”
“Like you said, brother, there’s a lot of work to be done with the city watch.” Daemon finally looked at Viserys, an icy look on his eyes. “So I’m doing the work.”
“I am glad to hear it, Daemon but…”
Viserys sentence was cut short by Rhaenyra bursting into the antechamber in a whirlwind of happy giggles.
“It’s beautiful, kepus. I loved it!” She exclaimed twirling around to show her first riding clothes, proper ones and not the improvised she wore so far whenever going flying. “Isn’t pretty, kepa?”
Daemon had paid one of the servants to sneak an unassuming box to her bed while the three royals were distracted with all the other exaggerated looking boxes. He had never liked to see his princess not donning properly riding clothes but had not said anything against Aemma’s choices then, now though Rhaenyra was a rider on her own right and deserved to dress as such.
“However did you sneak that in?” Aemma asked him, hands on her hips but smiled in gratitude; she had being so worried about ordering new dresses to accommodate her girl’s growing body that totally forgot she would be needing riding clothes soon too.
“I have my ways.” He answered with a cheeky grin.
“You look lovely, dear.” Viserys said with a smile but glancing suspiciously at his brother. And not liking how grown up the riding gear looked, as if for a girl older than Rhaenyra actually was. “But it will be sometime before you need to wear it with your hatchling.”
Rhaenyra excited countenance deflated in a second at that and a hurt look passed over her violet eyes making Daemon almost bristle in offence on her behalf, Aemma throwing a reproving looking at her husband too.
“Don’t be a killjoy, Viserys.” He said dryly and then went to Rhaenyra, extending his hand for her to take. “Come on, little love, the sky waits for us.”
Rhaenyra grabbed at her uncle’s hand and followed him without looking back, she angrily decided she would not allow her father to keep her apart from her dragon or the skies anymore. That was where she belongs and he would have to accept that.
--
The ride to the dragonpit did not help her spirits a single bit, the presence of Baela’s nursemaid souring her mood further. Why had Uncle Daemon brought that woman along? And why must she sit so close to him and look at him that way? And what was with those furtive touches on him? He was her kepus, that woman had no business acting that way towards her Uncle Daemon.
Daemon had to fight the smile threatening to split his face, amusement over Rhaenyra pouting and huffing in the corner; if his princess was this jealous and possessive of him at only eight he did not dare imagine how things would be once she was older. She was really going to match his fire, he was sure, his perfect Valyrian princess.
Once they got out of the carriage and walked into the pit’s arena, Rhaenyra finally lighted up again by seeing Caraxes and Syrax waiting for them, both dragons saddled.
She ran to her lady, uncaring for Caraxes chirping noise of warning for being approached like that, for she knew the dragon would never dare harm her while being Uncle Daemon’s mount. Syrax let out purring-like noises satisfied by Rhaenyra’s sweet words and attempts at hugging but her golden lady was as big as a horse now while Rhaenyra remained on the small side.
“Why is Syrax saddled, kepus?” She asked curiously, turning to see her Uncle approaching his own dragon.
“For us to fly together, little love.’ He answered with a wink. Unlike Viserys, he knew the importance of that and if Rhaenyra’s hatchling already proved it could bear its riders’ weight then no point in trying to delay the last step in their bonding. The yellow dragon even seemed to grow faster after their first flight. “You already flew your dragon once. If you think you both are ready, then it’s time.”
“We are, kepus.” Rhaenyra said with confidence. Ever since she took to the sky for the first time the bond between Syrax and her became more vivid than ever in her mind, it pulsed inside her heart as if one with Syrax’s heart. “Aren’t we my love?”
Syrax chirped in agreement and then leaned down on one side in invitation to which Rhaenyra promptly accepted, a wide smile on her face while getting up on her golden lady with no help. Daemon grinned proudly and then approached the duo, he guided Rhaenyra small hands on the chains to teach her the best ways to buckle herself on the saddle for a safe flight. When he was sure she was all safe, he went to an impatient Caraxes and just as swiftly mounted his beast.
“What about Baela, kepus?” Rhaenyra asked looking over at her cousin in the arms of that annoying woman; if they flying in both dragons then they could all go together. “You said she would come with us.”
“Let me have one worry at a time, princess.” Daemon said distractedly arranging his own chains. Despite successfully flying all by herself once, Daemon would rather not risk having Baela with him in case something went wrong and he needed to help Rhaenyra. “I need to see how you fare by yourself first, then we can come pick her up.”
“Oh. Alright.” She nodded in understanding, now getting why the woman had come along after all. And even more determined to prove herself a skilled and worthy dragonrider.
With a last glace to her uncle who gave a little nod of encouragement, Rhaenyra whispered the High Valyrian command to her lady and in what felt like a blink Syrax almost leaped off the ground. It took a moment for the young dragon to acclimate with the added weight of saddle and rider, many moons had passed since it had that first experience and never again, so its wings flapped clumsily at first struggling to get into the air.
‘You can do it, my love. We can do it. The sky will be ours.’ Rhaenyra poured her determination and incentive and love into the pulsing bond between them, Syrax screeched in response and then forced its body harder.
Rhaenyra gasped when her golden lady roughly propelled them higher into the air, body finally righting itself, wings flapping easier and fast, and she kept going higher and higher. Rhaenyra let out a scream of delight when they were so very high above the city and Syrax rushed through the air with her own roar, a whistling roar echoing theirs and then Caraxes settled beside them.
Daemon watched carefully the whole process, positioning Caraxes right below the young dragon when he saw its struggle to push properly into the air and as soon as it finally flew off he and Caraxes followed closely behind.
However, he need not worry so much, his niece and her dragon were naturals, born for this. In a matter of minutes, Rhaenyra and the hatchling were confidently and smoothly gliding through the air, his princess’ laugh so loud he could hear it through the wind rushing on his face.
The feelings pounding on his ribcage were exhilarating. The last time Daemon flew beside another dragon was when his father was alive and even then it did not felt like this. Flying now beside his precious niece felt like they were one, flying in unison as if the same mind, two pieces put back together at last.
Daemon never laughed as much and as hard as he did while flying with Rhaenyra, he never felt as alive as in that moment. They were both dragons and as such they were meant for the skies. Together.
And Rhaenyra wished that moment could last forever, that they would never be parted from each other and their dragons ever again. She wished she could always have Uncle Daemon like this, right by her side, laughing and happy; with a prayer to the Fourteen Flames while so close to them, she asked to be granted that one wish.
If they didn’t, she would make it so, Rhaenyra promised to herself.
Notes:
If you liked it let me know your thoughts!!! Kudos& comments are more than appreciated 🥰
So here we have babe Rhae already on her way to become a witty little devil 🥰
And Daemon being more cautious about expecting anything good from Viserys hence why he ended not even asking for a dragon egg after Viserys' latest clownery last chapter 👌🏽
Also, I always thought fascinating how easily Daemon gained true and unwavering loyalty from people around him despite hes supposed dubious/evil nature or whatever. Most of the Gold Cloaks remained loyal to him, and by proxy to Rhaenyra, to the very bitter end. Irl that happens when people really know how to give good speeches, genuine or not 🤷🏾♀️
Aren't the Velaryons so very nice? 🫣🤭Btw I'll mostly use the Valyrian gods/religion from this site https://iron-throne-roleplay.fandom.com/wiki/The_Gods_of_Old_Valyria, as inspiration. I'm not too good with deep talks and exploration when it comes to religion but I'll sprinkle a bit of it every now and again 🤗 Cause Valyrian and the first men faiths are def way more interesting than the Seven
In you're interested in visuals to accompany a story like me, here the links for this story's visuals
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virgogeminiposts (thou I ought to update this one hahahehhaha)See you in the next one ❣️😘
Chapter 12: Chapter Eleven: 105 AC Part III - A Princess' Nameday
Notes:
Hey people here's a new update finally!!
Thank you so much for those who left kudos and comments and bookmarked this fic, it gives me life to see people really liking my fic and showing all this appreciation for it 🥹❣️
Quite a big chapter, the longest yet I think, with lots happening, "new" characters being introduced and glimpses at a scheme or two. I hope you guys enjoy it!
I've no clue about tourneys, jousts and etc specifics, much less the proper words to describe things, so bear with me and possible inaccuracies about it alright hahhahahahahah 😅
High Valyrian is in bold-italic
Have a fun reading!! 😉
See you in the end notes
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon hurried through the halls of the Red Keep, not paying attention to the flurry of people everywhere preparing for the tourney and the feast in celebration of Rhaenyra’s nameday.
He had spent more time than he intended flying with his girls, and then more time than necessary when they got back to the keep. His niece lively spirits and excited chatter about the morning events a sudden deterrent for his and Viserys’ constant tense interaction; for once it was almost as if things were not as bad as they were, both talking normally for the first time in weeks once Viserys and Aemma disapproval abated and proudness for their daughter took over.
And now he was late to get to the tourney grounds to prepare himself for the joust. He had a crown to win for his princess after all.
He had decided to forego the melee since his body was too tired from all the days training his men and setting the City Watch to rights. The only reason he was even going to participate in the joust at all was because he had promised to crown Rhaenyra Queen of Love and Beauty and this time he would be the one to do it.
“Prince Daemon!” He was so distracted and immersed in his thoughts that Lady Alicent sudden appearance by his side gave him a scare.
‘Not this fucking girl again.’ Daemon thought exasperated and started walking faster in hopes the annoying girl would get the message he did not wish for her company. But as was often the case, she never did get it that he wanted nothing to do with her and so she kept walking with him.
“Why are you in such a hurry, if you don’t mind me asking?” Lady Alicent asked, surprisingly swift on her feet to keep pace with him.
“To the tourney grounds. I’m quite late.” He answered in his most polite voice, trying his best not to snap and tell her to fuck off.
“Oh, you are to compete then?”
“Aye, of course. It’s my niece’s celebrations.”
“Well, if you wish I can accompany you to the courtyard.” She suggested, voice sugary sweet and a charming smile on her lips.
For a girl so shy and nervous all the time the Lady Alicent certainly knew how to have some bold moments, Daemon mused again about the Hightower spawn. Despite his wish for nothing else than to fucking lose her from his heels for good, sent her away screaming and crying, Daemon was born, raised and educated as a prince so he knew how to be courteous and a gentlemen when he needed to.
And considering Otto Hightower’s desperation for any small reason to have Daemon kicked out of his family’s castle, Daemon would always find himself having to entertain the girl. Although he thought unlikely for Otto to be able to come with any reasonable lie to make Viserys and the council think there would be no problem leaving Daemon’s work in the City Watch unfinished, he would rather not take his chances.
He slowed down his steps and then offered her his arm flashing a false polite smile.
“Of course, Lady Alicent. I don’t see why not.” Daemon agreed with sarcasm that was clearly lost on her if her satisfied smile was any indication.
Ever since Daemon came back from Runestone the Hightower girl seemed to have a radar on him, she was always able to find him to pester and test his patience. No matter that for weeks now he barely ever set foot on the castle during daytime, somehow she always found him whenever he was in the keep. At first he thought that perhaps Otto had put her up to spy on him, which would have been more interesting, but Daemon had been quick to recognize those bedroom eyes ladies of her kind gave him.
If she hadn’t proven herself very annoying really fast Daemon might have had some fun making an effort to actually ensnare her to ruin her reputation as payback for Otto’s actions against him. Despite her often quietness, Alicent was quite the chattering bird when she wanted to be but the girl talked of the most boring of matters and too much of the Faith of the Seven. Daemon made no effort to keep a conversation going, only ever muttering some empty words for politeness sake and yet the girl seemed not to realize his lack of interest.
The Red Keep corridors never seemed as long as right now that Daemon so desperately wanted to get the hells out of there and away from the annoying girl. He kept silent this time but it was no deterrent to her either, Alicent kept on talking anything she could about the upcoming tourney and the feast later that night. It was obvious to Daemon she wanted him to ask for her favor, perhaps even thought a possibility to be the one crowned the queen by him. If it was any unimportant day he may have done that just to spite Otto. Not on his precious princess day though.
“Thank you, my lady, for the company.” Daemon said once they finally reached the castle’s outer courtyard. “But I have to bid you a goodbye. I really am late to get ready for the tourney.”
“Of course, my prince.” She smiled up at him, not showing any disappointment over not being asked for her favor. “I wish you all the luck in the competition.”
“Thank you, Lady Alicent.”
Before she could say anything else, Daemon quickly turned with a sour expression on his face and made his way to the squire who was waiting for him with his black destrier ready.
He did not witnessed her sigh and dreaming eyes while watching him but her brother who was in the courtyard talking with other boys did. Gwayne excused himself and walked to where his sister was still standing watching the prince ride out of the castle, he huffed in annoyance and grabbed at her arm with force.
“Didn’t father already talked with you about this, Alicent?” He hissed in a low voice for the people around not to hear.
“You’re hurting my arm, Gwayne.” Alicent tried to pull her arm without causing to much of a scene. “Let go.”
“This infatuation of yours with that rake needs to end before you ruin yourself and our family.”
“We were just walking, sharing a harmless conversation.” She retorted finally able to free her arm. “Stop acting crazy.”
“Harmless conversation, right.” He squinted his eyes at her with a scrutinizing look. “Stop being one of these wanton girls chasing after the prince’s cock.”
“Gwayne!” Alicent exclaimed horrified by his language, a few people throwing curious look their way so she lowered her voice and tried to keep a neutral expression. “I am not some wanton girl. Don’t be a crude, that is not how father raised you”.
“Act this way wasn’t how father raised you either, dear sister. Deny all you want but I see the way you look at that man and I know you want to be one of the girls he ruins with his depraved ways.”
“That man is the prince, Gwayne. The king’s brother.” Alicent hissed, unconsciously fiddling with her cuticles in nervousness, afraid someone might hear. “And he has being nothing but a gentleman. Not the depraved man you and father claim him to be.” She defended the prince, despite turning out to be quieter than she expected him to be, Prince Daemon also surprised her by how polite and almost gentle he was during the few times they interacted.
“Have you become dafter than ever? Everyone knows of Prince Daemon’s depravity.” Gwayne said with disgust. “His taste for whoring his way through the Street of Silk is well known. Defiling wanton ladies in court too.”
“He’s just acting as any other man does.” Alicent scoffed at him. “You too have gone down to the Street of Silks to bed those women to sate your manly urges despite father’s warnings. And if he bedded highborn ladies was because they shameless spread their legs to him… That’s not what I’m doing.”
Alicent turned to walk back to the castle, she needed to be presentable more than ever today for the tourney and the feast and not be here listening to her brother accusations and mean words. But Gwayne was not done and started walking with her instead and she huffed in annoyance.
“So what? Do you think you can charm the prince? You, meek and dull little Alicent?” Was her brother turn to scoff. “Please, don’t embarrass yourself. Besides, if Prince Daemon is being nice it’s because he knows better than to cross father.”
“I won’t talk with you when you’re this way.” Alicent said with gritted teeth, she hated when her brother demeaned her like this, treated her so horribly for no reason.
She may be shy but Alicent knew she was pretty and intelligent, a proper highborn lady, of course men would have interest in her; and she could certainly charm the prince if she tried enough.
“Also don’t forget he is married, and was recent made a father by said wife.” Her brother kept harping on and Alicent tried her best not to scratch at her cuticles too harshly, it wouldn’t do to have ugly bleeding fingers today of all days. “Father already talked about this, people have noticed your little walks and harmless talks whenever the prince is around. You need to stop it before the tongues start to truly wag about your shameless behaviour.”
“We walk among other people, in a safe distance from each other, there’s no untoward acts of any kind” She defended herself, there was nothing wrong in trying to befriend the prince, everyone knew how little he interacted with the other people of the court, everyone so afraid of him. She always thought how lonely that must be for him. “There is nothing wrong with it. Father always talks about the importance of being close to the royal family. I’m doing exactly what he wants of us.”
“No, you doing what you want for yourself.” Gwayne said and angrily snatched her left hand before she bled her fingers, squeezing her hand hard to replace the pain his sister apparently liked so much. “Father wants that rogue far away from court, you know that. Yet here you are, trying what? To get into the prince’s bed? Want him to propose a marriage to you even though he already has a wife?”
“Father said he only went ahead and fathered a child in his wife to spite the king because he refused to give him an annulment.” Alicent commented defensively, not looking at her brother so he wouldn’t see her frown of pain. “We know by now how the brothers’ relationship works. I’m sure Prince Daemon still hates the Lady Royce and now that she gave him a daughter and not a son, it will take no time before he asks for an annulment again.”
“So you really want a marriage with the prince?” Gwayne asked in incredulity.
“What? No, I jus… - Alicent took a deep breath, trying not to cry over the pain in the hand her brother was still squeezing. “I’m explaining to your small brain the dynamics of the royal family. You may not pay attention to what father tells us but I do.
“Why keep on chasing after the prince then? Don’t lie to me, sister.”
“I’m not chasing after him, Gwayne.” She did lie, keeping her eyes averted so he would not know like father always knew when she lied. “We cross paths sometimes and walk together for a bit, share a nice conversation about court matters. That’s all.”
“Right.” He sneered, not believing her. They would have to keep this conversation for another time though. “I better be off to the tourney grounds. Behave yourself.”
Alicent sighed in relief when he finally let go of her hand and walked away, leaving her alone. She could not understand what her father and brother thought was so wrong in her behavior, she did everything properly as an unmarried girl should when talking with a married man. People may have noticed them but there was no gossip, no malicious tongues saying anything because there was nothing to be said.
Besides, didn’t her father wanted them to be close to the royal family? To gain better positions? To ascend beyond their meagre status? Wasn’t that what he was doing by being a great Hand and keeping such powerful position?
Alicent had already being a companion to the old king during his sick and dying days but that had not being enough to elevate her in anyway. She was now a lady-in-waiting to the queen as her mother had being and yet, Alicent was still just the daughter of a second son, the lowest lady among the Queen’s companions and was often reminded of that by the other ladies and the whispers of court. No matter that she was the daughter of the Hand, that credit and fame was reserved to her father and brothers, not to her.
If her father wanted so badly for them to ascend in status, to become more than just the family of the actual Lord of Oldtown, what better way than to be friends with the lonesome prince? To be the one the court would see him being nice too, interest in talking to beyond his own family? And if he caught a more deep interest in her, if he may see her as more, then that was fine by Alicent. Prince Daemon was the most handsome man in the realm, he was charming and had such an arresting smile, she would be mad not to feel the same way every other woman felt for him.
There was no harm in hoping he could soon be rid of his wife and want more than just friendship between them. It would be a win for both her and her family. She could have a dashing prince and knight for a husband like she always dreamed and her family could officially be a part of the royal family.
But for that she needed to make sure she looked pretty today, enough to take his attention away from the brat little princess; Princess Rhaenyra would be insufferable more than ever, Alicent was sure, and there was so much a grown and experienced man as Prince Daemon could bear entertaining a brat annoying child.
When he had enough of the Princess, Alicent needed to be ready to be the young woman he would certainly seek for company.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Camellia walked behind the queen and princess with a small smile of satisfaction, unlike the other maids and servants that would go to the tourney grounds just to attend to the royal family and other highborn lords and ladies when called upon, Camellia was going to sit on the royal box with the rest of them. Despite the impropriety of it, her dragon prince had not wavered in his wish for little Baela to attend the tourney and as such so would her caretaker.
She put on her very best gown for the event, a stunning red peace her dragon prince gifted her, and walked just a few steps behind Queen Aemma who was with little Baela in her arms and the princess; the highest place someone like her could ever dream of having. And no matter that the king and all others looked at her with great distaste, her dragon prince’s opinion and wishes was all that mattered to Camellia. Besides, the queen was incredibly nice and kind to her when she did not need to be, always with a sweet smile to spare her when all others sneered in her direction.
Everything would become better, Camellia was sure, once her womb quickened and she gave her dragon prince a son. Although she wished for a daughter instead, her prince was so good with both his niece and daughter that she wanted to give him another little girl to dote on, Camellia knew it would be much more advantageous to give him a son. For days now she stopped taking that cursed tea, it was just a matter of time.
“Camellia, dear.” Queen Aemma said when they arrived at the courtyard where the king was waiting beside the royal carriage. “You will ride with the others but I’ll save you a sit, alright?” The beautiful and gentle queen smiled and gave a light pet to her arm. “Despite Daemon’s insistence, it is still unseemly so it’s best not to draw too much attention for yourself. You’ll sit hidden as best as possible from prying eyes but close enough in case Baela needs something.”
“Of course, Your Highness, I understand.” Camellia smiled and bowed in gratitude even if she did not like it, the queen’s kind-hearted attitude could not warrant anything but. “Thank you, my Queen.”
Camellia watched the queen walk to meet with her kingly husband and the impatient little princess who was asking for them to hurry. While watching the royals get into the carriage, she thought how they really looked like a true family – with eyes almost the same color of amethyst, same hair color and same otherworldly features – and how sad it was that her dragon prince did not fit in that image, his kingly brother always making sure of it. ‘Soon, I’ll you give you a family of your own, my prince.’ Camellia thought determined more than ever.
--
Aemma smiled contently in seeing her darling girl so excited, beaming smile on her pretty face; she was holding her little cousin close to the carriage window and waving at the smallfolk who were coming to watch them ride by. It was a beautiful image and Aemma wished that could be Rhaenyra and a sibling of her own. With a gentle caress to her small bump, Aemma prayed this time she would succeed and deliver a healthy child. Son or daughter, it did not matter at this point to her anymore, she only wished to stop grieving over her death children.
“Is that one of the gowns Rhaenyra was gifted this morning?” Viserys asked with a grim look, not pleased to see his girl wearing something that seemed fit a girl way older than his daughter was. “I don’t remember seeing it with the others.”
“Another gift Daemon left as a surprise in her bedroom.” Aemma said appreciatively, she quite liked the gown, it made her girl twice prettier than she already was and was in the sleeves style herself favored.
Viserys expression soured further, he should have guessed since Daemon was the one to also gift her those riding clothes. He would need to have a talk with his brother about these presents, she was too young for these types of clothing and it was improper of an uncle to gift such things.
“It is a joy to see our girl happy.” Viserys commented to change the subject, not wanting to sour the mood, it was a celebratory day for his daughter after all. “She is so good with little Baela.”
“Soon it will be her and her own sibling.” Aemma said and looked at him with a hopeful smile.
“Yes, yes it will be. Our son and our daughter.” Viserys said with certainty, he had dreamt it and it would be so. “How are you feeling, my love?”
“Good. Really good.” She hoped that it was a good omen that this pregnancy was progressing with ease so far.
“I have been so remiss lately and I apologize.” Viserys reach out for his wife’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.
“Do not worry, my love.” Aemma said and squeezed his hand. “I know that the matters of the realm are a priority and I could never begrudge you for that.”
“You, my dear, are the best woman I could have for my wife and queen.” Viserys said with a wide smile, so very proud of the woman she was, always comprehensible and gentle.
“Flatterer.” She snorted but was glad to hear that.
“On the topic about the realm, I’ve been meaning to ask for your advice on something.” Viserys looked over at Rhaenyra was still not paying them attention, focused on helping little Baela wave to the people as well. “I have also being too much absent from our girl’s life, something that saddens me. So I thought of a way that would allow us to spend more time together.”
“Yes?” Aemma looked curiously at him, not expecting this sudden interest but pleased by it.
“Aye. I did not run it with the council and I probably won’t regardless but I would like to know your thoughts.” He said still holding her hand gently. “I decided to make Rhaenyra our cupbearer. I spent so many hours in that council and she could be there too, right beside me.”
“Oh.” Aemma frowned surprised and unsure of what to think of that. “I guess… I mean, you know how she detests waking up too early just like you, so that would be a problem.”
“Well, the perfect excuse for me to put the sessions for a later hour.” Viserys chuckled before looking expectantly at her. “What do you say? Would it be good for her… For us?”
“It would, my love. She would love to spend time with her father.” Although unsure about it, Aemma would like to see Viserys spending more time with their daughter, giving her some attention instead of focusing only on his desired son.
“Wonderful!” He exclaimed excitedly. “It will serve her to learn the matters of the realms for when she becomes her brother’s queen consort.” Viserys smiled enthusiastically, not seeing Aemma’s grimace at his words, and then called Rhaenyra to sit with him.
Aemma schooled her feature quickly and picked little Baela, the baby squealing with all the excitement caused by their playing, so Rhaenyra could sit on Viserys’ lap. She watched her husband open the window on his side of the carriage for the two of them to wave at the crowd – people quick to flood the streets once they got a glimpse of the king too – and talk with their daughter about her new duty.
When Rhaenyra’s eyes gleamed at the chance to become cupbearer and spend so much time with her father, Aemma put her doubts to rest.
Whatever made her darling girl happy was the right choice to be made. It really could be good for Rhaenyra to be a part of the small council in some way so she could learn about the ruling of the kingdoms from the source. Not for her to be queen consort to a brother that was not even a certainty but in case the gods’ remained cruel and did not allowed Aemma to deliver a healthy son. Aemma did not know how she could possibly bring the subject up and that particular topic was sure to stir negative views but Aemma thought that it would be right to make Rhaenyra the heir.
As the firstborn child, the only child, of the king it should be Rhaenyra’s birthright to inherit, if a son was not born. Like Prince Aemon wanted for Rhaenys, she wished Viserys would want the same instead of only wanting for a son that may never come. And maybe if Aemma approached in the right way she could convince him of it. Then maybe she could stop needing to have these failing preanuncies, stop having to mourn death children.
--
Rhaenyra preened over all the attention she received once they entered the royal box, from the lords and ladies to the smallfolk on the stands, all clapped and cheered to her. And she loved that her father had requested for her chair to be put right in the middle of him and her mother, all eyes on them.
She kept on her charming smile while all the lords and ladies – mostly the members of the small council and their families, with a few other lords of some important houses that had come to the capitol for the celebration – in the royal box congratulated and gave their good wishes to her. It was a bore these courtly interactions but Rhaenyra had being taught the importance of them and to make the best impression as the realm’s princess, so she endured it all with grace.
Rhaenyra shared an eye roll with her cousin Leana when the adults went on to talk between themselves and not pay attention to the children, making the other girl giggle. Looking around the box to observe better the people there now that they were not overwhelming her all at once, Rhaenyra hummed when she saw the Lady Alicent at the last roll of sits close to the box banister, wearing a pretty gown that was unlike the usual dresses she wore, Rhaenyra always saw the older girl dressed modestly and simply so it was a surprise to see her dressing in such way.
“What is it, darling?” Aemma asked Rhaenyra while trying to fix little Baela dress, the baby girl clearly displeased with so much fabric in a hot day such as this one.
“Nothing. Just wondering where Lady Alicent bought that dress, I’ve never seen it before.”
“She does look quite pretty, doesn’t she?” Her muña said in an odd tone of voice Rhaenyra never heard, an odd look in her eyes as well while observing Lady Alicent.
Before she could think further on it or question her mother, the herald loudly announced that the King would give a speech to commence the tourney and so everyone fell silent, paying all the attention to their king.
Her father thanked everyone’s presence before starting to compliment her in all sorts of ways, Rhaenyra flushed at it but was so happy to know how much her kepa loved her. He even made her the council’s cupbearer just minutes before! She really could not have asked for a better nameday.
Once her kepa finished his speech, he commanded the tourney competitions to begin making the crowds on the stands to loudly cheer. Not seeing Uncle Daemon anywhere for the melee Rhaenyra barely paid it any mind, dividing her time between playing with Baela and sharing secretive looks with cousin Laena whenever the girl wasn’t aptly watching the bloody fights. She only ever liked tourneys to watch her kepus compete anyways.
To the people’s surprise, the unknown knight Ser Criston Cole was the one to win the melee; Rhaenyra pursed her lips remembering he had defeated her kepus before. But as her muña told her to do, she stood up and walked to the front of the box when he was announced the victor.
“Well done, good ser.” She said putting on her charming smile again and looking down at him. “I thank you for such a great competition and victory on the celebration of my nameday.”
“It is my honor, Your Highness, to win this competition in your name.” The dornish knight bowed deeply which made Rhaenyra genuinely smile.
When the knight walked off, possibly to receive his actual prize, Rhaenyra let out a giggle before walking back to her parents. Now that the joust was next, she had to sit closer to watch Uncle Daemon better.
“Muña, can I go sit there in the front?” She asked her mother since her father was standing away talking with his Lord Hand and Lord Strong. “Kepus will compete next, I want to be closer to watch him.”
“Of course you do, darling.” Aemma shook her head but smiled. “Go on then, Baela will keep me company.”
“Can’t I bring her?”
“You’ll be much too focused on your uncle to properly look after her.”
Rhaenyra pouted but acquiesced knowing that was truth. And it was better for her muña to have someone there with her in case father kept distracted with others. After giving a kiss on her mother and little cousin, Rhaenyra walked to where cousin Laena was sitting with her parents and brother.
“Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys.” She greeted them again. “Can Laena and Laenor come sit with me in the front? I wish to be closer to watch my Uncle Daemon.”
“Can we, please?” Laena asked hopeful. “I barely saw anything of the melee from here.”
“Of course they can join you, Princess Rhaenyra.” Lord Corlys said approvingly. “It will be good for Laenor to learn a thing or two from a knight such as Prince Daemon.”
“My uncle is the best knight.” She said proudly.
“He did learn from the best ones.” Princess Rhaenys said in reference to Princes Aemon and Baelon. “I think I’ll sit with cousin Aemma then.”
Rhaenyra smiled in gratitude for the older princess’ suggestion and then she hurried off with her two cousins. Before Rhaenyra could politely ask the people sitting on the front row to change seats, Lady Alicent did it for her but remained along with her younger brother on the same place after the other people vacated their seats. Not to be rude, she didn’t say anything but a ‘thank you’ to Alicent and then sat beside her, with Laena on her other side and Laenor sitting beside Lymond.
“You look very pretty in that dress, Lady Alicent.” Rhaenyra complimented. “Is it a new one?”
“Thank you, princess.” Alicent smiled trying not to appear too nervous for the lie she would tell, smoothing down a hand on her dress. “It was a gift from father for today’s celebrations.”
“Mhm. I’ve never saw you dress like this before.”
Alicent flushed in embarrassment at the princess words but fortunately did not had the time to react and embarrass herself more in front of the brat girl, the herald announcing the beginning of the joust. She hated how rude and mean the princess could be sometimes, even when Alicent did her best to befriend the lonely girl she knew Princess Rhaenyra only entertained her for lack of options. The way she quick turned to the Velaryon girl proved that further. Pursing her lips, Alicent turned her attention to the tourney grounds, she had better things to focus on anyways.
A dozen knights entered the arena, proudly displaying their houses coat-of-arms on their shields. Since the tourney was just a one day affair, unlike the melee, only the highest and most skilled of knights would participate in the joust; with only one chance at winning. Once the participants were orderly standing in front of the royal box on the other end of the arena, the herald announced the prince’s entrance.
“Prince Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince and Prince of the City!”
The people on the stands were the loudest they’ve being so far at the announcement at Uncle Daemon’s entrance. While on the royal box the lord and ladies whispered between themselves at the latter tittle the herald had mentioned; Rhaenyra also didn’t know where that one had come from but she was too enraptured with her kepus to pay it much mind. Uncle Daemon looked more dashing than ever in his dark armor, with his hair braided in the Valyrian way, sitting atop a shining black destrier.
“Kepus wore my favorite armor.” Rhaenyra said while clapping along with the others.
“He looks so gallant, cousin.” Laena commented, her well-spoken High Valyrian not a surprise anymore to Rhaenyra.
“It is some great armor.” Laenor agreed in their language as well, looking in admiration to the prince.
Rhaenyra loved that particular armour, the red dragon circling around the black plates a beautiful contrast and testament to her kepus heritage. She smiled widely when he galloped right in front of their box before circling back to where the other knights were; there was a loud huff behind her and she had no doubts it was probably from her father, always exasperated at Uncle Daemon’s antics.
Everyone cheered and clapped when the prince finally chose his first opponent, Ser Arryk of the Kingsguard – or was it her former shield Ser Erryk? She could never tell them apart – and the others knights filtered out of the arena. Rhaenyra fidgeted with her little rings while watching her kepus receive his helmet from the squire and put it on before positioning himself. She knew he was a great jouster but she could not avoid worrying all the same, knights suffered the worst injuries and sometimes even died in these competitions.
It took two rounds but the prince swiftly unhorsed the kingsguard in the end, to which the crowd erupted in applause. Daemon took off his helmet and gave it to his squire before trotting over to the royal box with a smug grin; he winked towards where both his cousins were, glad to see his daughter had indeed been brought along. Then he looked to his niece already walking to lean over the box banister.
“Princess Rhaenyra, my beautiful niece. The prettiest girl in all of the seven kingdoms, the delight of all the realm.” He said making her giggle and the crowd ‘aw’ at his words. “Would you honor me with your favor? I could not imagine a better luck charm to help me win this tourney for you.”
“Of course you can have my favor, Prince Daemon.” Rhaenyra said without hesitation and instead of picking a flower circle as was customary, she unlaced the golden silk she put on her wrist earlier and then tied it to the tip of his lance. “I hope you are the winner, kepus... Good luck, uncle.”
Daemon grinned wolfishly, satisfied by her action of gifting him with a piece of silk of all things, and gave her a wink before galloping away from the arena to wait for his turn next. None of them noticing the envious looks of one Lady Alicent and the prince’s lover.
Rhaenyra watched the next competitors just as excitedly along with Laena, her cousin clearly favoring this sort of thing more than other girls did, while waiting to see her kepus win again. Uncle Daemon easily unhorsed his next opponents - a Redfort from the Vale, Lord Massey from Stonedance and a Tarly from the Reach - before finding a real challenging, a knight from House Darry had won all his own matches and was really skilled with a lance. The two knights crashed four times until on the fifth round her kepus finally sent the rivermen careening into the dirty.
In the end of the competition only her uncle and Lord Tyrell’s heir remained as winners, set to face each other and see who would emerge as the true victor. The heir of Highgarden also posed a challenge to Uncle Daemon, for a moment Rhaenyra even feared she would have to watch her kepus lose another tourney, their contest went on and on; lance after lance broke and they remained steady atop their horses. When they reached the seventh round, her kepus decided to really play dirty and with some trick Rhaenyra could never have imagined being able to be done atop a horse, Uncle Daemon knocked over both knight and horse roughly to the ground.
For a moment silent reigned while the Tyrell heir remained laying still on the ground but as soon as one of the squires dithering around him raised a thumb up to state the knight was still at least alive, the arena went absolutely wide. Rhaenyra stood up, Laena, Alicent and Laenor following suit, to clap loudly; her kepus dramatically raised his arms and sppined around to receive all the clamor in his name.
Rhaenyra went to the edge of the box to eagerly wait for him to get back on his horse and come declare her Queen of Love and Beauty with a beautiful flower crown but instead Uncle Daemon rushed out of the arena. The cheers turned into confused questions and whispers while the minutes dragged on. Rhaenyra glanced despondently over at her parents hoping they had an answer to why Uncle Daemon hurried out like that, not a word uttered, but for the confused look on her muña’s face and exasperated look on her kepa’s they also did not know anymore than her.
A “must he always act like this?” was heard from the king before the queen hushed him. Huffing in annoyance, Rhaenyra stomped back to her seat and sat down heavily, forcing herself not to snap at anyone wagging their tongues about Uncle Daemon. When silence fell over the arena again, Rhaenyra knew without looking that her father had stood up ready to close the tourney with a final speech. She almost turned to plead him not to that yet so they could wait to see if Uncle Daemon would be back and whatever was it he was up to this time but refrained herself. It would be unseemly of a princess to do that in front of so many people.
A ruckus was heard outside the royal box before the king could start talking and Rhaenyra turned just in time to see her kepus sauntering in, carrying a bundle of cloth in his hand and a smug smile on his lips. Even all sweaty and dirtied from the joust, silver braids in disarray, Uncle Daemon was a vision on his black and red armor; he pay no heed to anyone and walked straight to where she was.
Rhaenyra stood up again with a beaming smile and had to refrain for hugging her kepus when he knelt in front of her, purple eyes level with her violent eyes.
“Princess, allow me as the victor to crown you the Queen of Love and Beauty.” He said grinning at her and then unfastened the cloth in his hand, eliciting a collective gasp from the people who could see the object presented. “A simple crown of flowers is not truly worthy of my precious niece so I had this brought from Essos as a nameday gift for you, little love.” Uncle Daemon raised the stunning jade tiara and gently placed it atop her silver-gold head. “If rumors are true this once belonged to the Empress of Leng. A most suitable crown for our Princess.”
“Thank you, Uncle Daemon. It’s the best gift, I love it.” She said trying not to cry over how happy she was, how cherished and loved she felt at that moment.
Daemon winked at her and then picked her up, uncaringly dirtying her new dress, and she promptly encircled his neck with both arms; he took her to the edge of the box so the people could also have a glimpse of the sparkling tiara on Rhaenyra’s head. With backs turned, prince and princess missed the bad and good mixed looks thrown at them from the people in the royal box. The King the most displeased of all.
A chant of “the realm’s delight”, as Uncle Daemon had earlier said, started from the crowd along with loud clapping. Rhaenyra could have screamed from happiness, that was the best nameday she ever had, but she just contently gave a kiss to her kepus’s sweaty cheek.
“Thank you, kepus.” She said in a low voice just for him to hear.
“Anything for my princess, little love.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The sun was almost setting when the royal family, the lords and ladies, and courtiers arrived back at the Red Keep from the tourney grounds.
For King Viserys’ discontent and Queen Aemma’s worry, their daughter had insisted in riding back with her uncle on his horse through the streets so they would see her beautiful tiara atop her head. As the princess that she was, it was Rhaenyra’s exact words. Prince Daemon was more than happy to oblige his spoiled niece, proud she unlike her father wanted to be seen by the people, to play the attentive royal as Queen Alysanne once had.
It was a short trip between where tourneys were usually hosted and the castle but enough for many smallfolk to look on in awe at the stunning image the two Targaryens made; whispers of ‘the prince of our city’ and ‘our realm’s delight’ been shared among the people as they rode through. No doubt by nightfall bards and mummers would be weaving tales about that and the events of the Princess’ nameday.
While observing his brother help his smiling daughter off the horse, King Viserys could not avoid wondering what else he could do to prevent Daemon from stealing his Rhaenyra’s attention and love. He had already showered her with plenty of gifts that day and yet she seemed to love her uncle’s better as she always did, so that felt like a hopeless endeavor. At least he had come with a great idea to busy her enough and leave her with little time to constantly be seeking Daemon’s presence; but as Commander of the City Watch Daemon would also have to attend council meetings.
‘If she likes the commonfolk seeing her so much perhaps it would be good to bring her with me when there’s petitions hearings.’ Viserys contemplated, an idea to think further on some other time. Now they all needed to get ready for the feast being throw in his girl’s honor in just a couple hours.
“Take Rhaenyra to get ready, Aemma.” He asked a bit too rudely for his wife’s confusion. “We know how she likes to take her time and wouldn’t do for her to be late for her own feast.”
Aemma simply nodded, not wishing to discuss whatever had soured her husband’s mood like that. Once her daughter and cousin reached them, she gently grabbed on Rhaenyra’s hand and led her into the keep, the two quickly starting an animatedly talk about what they could wear for the feast.
“Go change into some proper clothes, Daemon.” Viserys turned on his little brother, expression scrunching in disapproval. “You look all dirty and you stink.”
“Whatever my king desires.” Daemon said mockingly and rolled his eyes, then he stepped closer to where his pet and daughter were standing but before he could lead them to his chambers Viserys said again in a stern tone.
“And Baela had enough excitement for the day, better to let her rest now. I’m sure her nursemaid can look after her for the remainder of the night.” He uttered the veiled command of ‘do not bring a babe to the feast and do not dare bring your paramour either’.
“Of course, Your Grace.” Daemon said with his back still turned, expression darkening and teeth gritting, deciding to just leave it be not to cause any disruption to his princess’s day.
Daemon ushered Camellia, who was with a pinched expression over the awful king’s words, inside with a hand on her lower back and not caring for the glares thrown their way.
“Baela seems really tired.” He commented, glancing down to his daughter almost dozing off, eyes barely able to remain open. “Go give her to the wetnurse to feed for the night and then bring her back to my chambers. You two will stay there tonight to avoid tempting Viserys into ruining my niece’s celebration.”
“As you wish, my prince.” Camellia agreed, his stiff body and tone of voice letting her know he was in no mood for discussions.
Daemon gave a kiss to little Baela’s head and then watched his pet walk to the nursery with her, a castle guard falling in step behind them. He continued in the direction of his chambers, almost tempted into stopping by his niece’s rooms to witness her reaction to all the boxes left on her bed during their absence, but he did indeed stink from all the exertion of the afternoon. There was no need to hurry anyways, once he was all ready for the festivity, he would go to his precious niece to present her the last gift he had in store for her.
The one he was certain she would cherish above all others, the one that was more than a gift but an inheritance, her birthright as the descendant of the last owner of it.
--
Alicent almost stumbled to the floor when her father pushes her hard through the doors of her room, the loud thud of the door closing making her wince in fear. Her father disguised his anger well, he always did, but as soon as he enclosed his hand on her upper arm when they arrived back at the Red Keep and led her towards her chambers Alicent had known how displeased he was with her. Now looking at him, she saw the glint of anger in his eyes.
“Father…” She tried to say but he promptly silenced her.
“You will stay silent and listen very carefully, girl.” Otto said in a disturbingly calm tone. “I have given too much freedom to you, it seems since you keep acting this shamefully.” He sneered down at her and grabbed at her dress harshly, almost tearing the fabric. “Dressing like this, like some whore down at Flea Bottom trying to gain the attention of that scoundrel.”
“Father, I di…” Alicent tried again, wanting to defend herself but it was always pointless.
“I said silence!” Otto exclaimed, grabbing at her arm again to shake his unruly daughter. “You will change into decent clothes for tonight's feast, clothes fit for a lady and not a whore. Or else you will force me to punish you as some little child instead of the grown woman you are, do you hear me?”
“Y-yes, Father.” She whispered and looked down, eyes stinging; it had been a long time since the last time she needed punishment and she wish anything but to suffer that kind humiliation and pain again.
“And you will stop with this shameful chace after that disgraceful prince.”
“You said we had to stay close to the royal family, Father, I just…” Alicent looked up, explaining herself in a rush of words.
“Am I raising a dim-witted girl now?” Otto sneered down at her again and then roughly let go of her arm. “I want you close to the queen as if your role as her lady-in-waiting. And I want you to become friends with that insolent princess, try and teach her some proper manners… That’s all I require of you, do you understand?”
“Yes, Father, I understand.”
“Good so stop whatever it is your silly brain came up with and leave that rake be.” He said firmly. “I’ll be the one dealing with him and he will be out of my and the King’s way in no time. When I require anything else from you to aid in our family’s ascension, you will know.”
Alicent kept her head down and nodded in agreement, nails digging into each other and almost drawing blood. It was so unfair she could not have this one simple thing she wished for herself. Why must her father dictate her life so, why must her do only his bidding?
“Chose one of your mother’s gowns and jewelry for tonight. That is why they were brought to your room for.”
Otto gave one last disappointed look at his daughter and then left; he hoped this would be the last time he would have to talk about this with Alicent. It would not do for her to ruin her reputation with that impertinent prince when they were so close of something better and bigger. Prince Daemon would soon become inconsequential anyways. As would the queen with her failures and both her whelps. A lady needed an irrefutable and impeccable image if she was to marry a king.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The feast in honor of the princess nameday was a grand banquet full of merriment to all attendants, as was customary of King Viserys’ feasts, all guests filling themselves to the brim with food and drink of all kinds in abundance. There was mummers and songs entertaining all, laugh and talks all around filling the walls of the ballroom.
From the high table the Targaryens watched and enjoyed the night, the King most of all, happy to see everyone satisfied and content. Especially his precious daughter who could not stop smiling and laughing, violet eyes glittering in happiness. Only his brother insistence in dotting on Rhaenyra and gaining all of her attention dampened his mood but Viserys let that go this time for sake of his daughter’s happiness.
Rhaenyra basked in all the merriment, enjoying her celebration to the fullest before the night got late and she was inevitably sent to bed. She ate every single type of sweets spread on the long table, her and Laena competing to see who could take more without vomiting; and she even sipped from wine whenever Uncle Daemon could give her his cup without no one noticing. Her parents had never allowed her to drink it but as usual she could count on her kepus to indulge in her every whim.
She giddily and dizzily went to the dance floor with both Laena and Laenor, the three of them spurring a mess of children dancing uncoordinatedly, all loud laughter and nothing else. She danced until her feet ached and she was panting tiredly, then she returned to the table where the adults were now animatedly talking; her kepus the only one keeping mostly to himself so she went to him and sat on his lap.
“I have one last gift for you, little love.” Daemon said low enough just for the two of them to hear once his brother turned his sour attention elsewhere.
“You’re already gave me so much, kepus.” Rhaenyra leaned her head back to look at him; there had been more boxes on her bedchamber from Uncle Daemon, plenty of clothes and jewelry and toys.
“Well, this one will be your favorite, I’m sure.” He grinned at her and then picked the ring from his pocket, carefully depositing it on her opened hand. “This was my mother’s, your grandmother Alyssa. Father had it commissioned for her as a betrothal gift.”
“Oh.” She looked down admiring the little dragon-shaped ring, the metal shimmering in the candlelight and then she frowned. “But it’s Valyrian steel, kepus, how could papa Baelon have commissioned it?”
“There are scrolls at Dragonstone with the secrets to make Valyrian steel. He just had to find the right smith to do it.”
“Really?” She looked back at Uncle Daemon, surprised to know that and more than ever wanting to go to Dragonstone to explore more of its secrets. “But won’t this smith be able to keep making it to sell?”
“Not without what it’s needed.” Daemon said cryptically, then picked the ring from her palm to put it on her finger. “Besides, silence and loyalty can always be earned with the right price. Remember that, little love.”
“I will, kepus.” Rhaenyra smiled, she always remembered these little lessons her Uncle Daemon gave her.
When Aemma came over to take her to bed, Rhaenyra gave him a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek, whispering a low ‘I love you, kepus’ in their ancestral language before obediently following her mother.
Daemon could not remember the last time anyone said those words to him, likely his mother when he was too young to actually remember; she was likely also the last member of his family to genuinely feel that way about him, the last one to make him feel loved and wanted. Which is why he decided to give his only tangible reminder he had of her to Rhaenyra.
The very last memory he had of his mother was her pressing the ring into his hands, her own hand weak and cold already, her last words a whispered ‘I love you, my darling son’ into his wet cheeks. A painful memory but his most treasured one. He knew the ring would be safe and just as treasured in Rhaenyra’s possession; a shared reminder of the woman neither of them could not ever truly know.
After jugging down a couple more cups of wine, Daemon left the feast without a word to anyone. The time to be a dotting and sweet uncle, a kind and nice man was long past, it was time for him to have his own kind of fun.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Alicent walked through the corridors of the red keep uncaringly of the late hour and that she’s alone in the eerily dimly lit place. She would have never dared such thing hours ago, always mindful of appearances and possible dangers lurking in the shadows, but the day had been too much of a disaster for her to care at this point.
From the moment her foul brother came to pester her that morning to the moment Prince Daemon vanished from the feast some minutes before.
So deep in thought she was, Alicent didn’t notice the unknown and strange noises until it was too late. When turning in a corridor she came face to face with the most awful and sinful of sights; just now she realized she wasn’t even paying attention if she was walking the right direction of her chambers nor even knew where exactly in the keep she ended up at.
No matter where she was, this was not the place she should be at all. Her heart lurched in her chest and color drained from her face, a sinking feeling setting in her gut at the same time shame, envy and anger boiled in her veins.
There, right in the middle of the corridor, leaning on the wall was that damnable red-haired maid; face and chest pressed against the wall, hips arched back, hands clawing at the stone and dress rucked all the way up past her hips. And kneeling behind the girl was none other than the man plaguing Alicent’s thoughts, Prince Daemon, his face buried between the girls legs.
Alicent had probably gasped when she first came upon the scene, although she could not be sure too shocked she was by it, for she had unconsciously almost slapped both hands to her mouth. And instead of turning and leaving the same way she came as quick as possible, she found herself frozen in place.
The sight not being enough of an assault on her, lewd disgusting noises started to flow through her hears. Sucking and slurping like noises. Shameless grunts and moans. Still she remained frozen in place.
Prince Daemon, the gallant and so very nice prince, proving himself to really be the dishonorable depraved man everyone said he was. Alicent should have listened to her father and brother, it would have spared her this heartache, this humiliation.
Days and weeks she spent putting all the effort she could to give the lonely prince some much needed company, to be a friend he certainly sorely needed. Days worrying over how to best charm him and if he would finally see her as something more. As the appropriate woman his should desire. Yet here he was instead, doing gods knew what between the thighs of a lowly unworthy servant girl.
Alicent had being thoroughly educated by the best septas sent here from Oldtown, she had religiously attended sermons at the sept and read the book of the Faith so she knew this act before her was against all that was right and decent, it was infamy and sin, an affront against the gods.
Yet they seemed to love it, a dark traitorous voice whispered in her mind. She wanted to deny it, to chastise herself and finally unroot her feet to leave but she simply could not. For whatever reason, Alicent could not avoid her eyes away from the act before her, could not tune out the sounds, all she could do was watch in rapt attention.
Since the red haired maid dress was pulled up to just below her breasts, Alicent had an unobscured view of an expense of pale freckled skin leading to perfect globes of soft flesh, and a head of silver hair placed there. Prince Daemon’s head was swaying back and forth slightly every so often and that allowed Alicent to see the glistening of something on the corner of his mouth almost all the way to his jaw. She could also in those second split moments glimpse at the girls womanly parts and his tongue sticking out right before delving back into it
This was wrong, this was so so wrong, Alicent repeated in her mind over the rush of blood in her ears. A woman’s intimate parts was reserved for a man to plant his seed there so the wife would bear his children, that was all a woman’s body was for. So why was the wicked prince doing this, whatever this was? Why did he seem eager in doing so? Why was that cursed girl enjoying it so much? This was absolutely wrong, unseemly... Dirty and disgusting.
Yet something about it was fascinating and Alicent could not tear her eyes from it, from them. And she could not understand the effect seeing that was causing in her body, an tingly sensation she never felt before, a ache low in her belly that was so odd but good. She would need to seek the high septon to profusely ask for forgiveness for how her traitorous body was reacting; maybe her brother was right and she was just another shameful wanton girl.
So enrapture by it, trying to see things better, that Alicent was too late to act before Prince Daemon’s eyes locked with hers. This time she heard her gasp muffed by her hands, eyes going wide in fear and shame, but instead of stopping what he was doing prince Daemon just grinned slyly at her with glistening lips.
That more than ever should have been the moment for her to flee but rooted in place she remained. Alicent watched Prince Daemon move his head back some, still turned and looking straight at her, and then bring one of his hands that were on the girl’s thighs to her intimacy.
“Such a wanton little slut, aren’t you?” His voice echoed in the empty corridor. Although he was talking with and about the shameless maid, Alicent felt as if that was directed at her instead.
“Yes, my dragon prince.” The girl said in a wispy voice and then keened when a finger was roughly inserted inside her.
Alicent’s eyes went impossibly wider at the sight, seeing Prince Daemon’s thick finger disappear in the girl’s womanhood.
“Look at you, enjoying this.” His voice rang out again, never looking away from Alicent. “Like a little whore.”
She gasped again, this time in indignation and humiliation, she just knew he was not taking to his maid, the actual whore, but to her. Her, Alicent who would never do such thing, would never sully herself and shame her family, would never sin and go against the gods like they were doing. ‘How dare him?’ She thought in outrage and finally lowered her arms to her side, finally found the will to turn to leve this ungodly scene but then Prince Daemon stood up, his tall frame looming over the girl as it loomed over Alicent whenever they had been close.
Lewd noises still echoed, Prince Daemon hand and fingers still moving between the girl’s thighs, and Alicent watched him lean into the girl with his mouth to her ear
“We’re putting on quite a show, little bird.” He said and that finally made the girl open her eyes.
Contrary to what Alicent expected, to what a decent woman would do, the girl did no express shock nor shame, she did not scatter away from the prince to cover herself and stop the sinful acts. A wicked smirk spread on her lips, so reminiscing of the prince’s, and the dimming light of the torches caught a malicious glow in her green irises.
“Wanton, naughty girl... Aren’t I my prince” She said pushing her hips further back into the prince’s hand; like Prince Daemon a second before, the girl’s tone was aimed at Alicent, she was sure of it.
“So very naughty, my pet.” Prince Daemon replied, lips still on her ear, before turning his head again to look towards Alicent. “Want more, don’t you?
Alicent sucked in a breath at his words and at the vision the two of them made, red and silver, purple and green, evil gleaming eyes and smiles. A shiver ran down her spine in fear and so many more feelings she could not even describe.
“Want my cock, naughty girl?”
Those words were so jarring to hear Alicent’s feet moved at last, instinctively giving a step back. But still her glance was drawn down when she caught sight of movement, drawn to where Prince Daemon was opening his breeches and she almost let out a scream when he swiftly took out his manhood, unceremoniously shoving it between the girl’s thighs to replace his fingers.
The noise the girl let out could not possibly be of enjoyment, he must been hurting her, he must, Alicent’s brain tried to reason through the overwhelming cacophony in her mind.
“Yes, yes.” The girl’s high pitched voice brought Alicent attention back to their faces. “She does, oh, she does want your cock, my prince.” Alicent gave another step back and wished she had voice to refute that, to curse their deranged behavior. The girl wasn’t done though. “But his cock is only mine, stupid silly girl. Only for me. He’s mine dragon prince. ”
And neither was Prince Daemon, for he cruelly added while roughly moving his hips into the girl.
“Yes, little bird, just for your cunt.” He grinned wickedly at Alicent seeing her eyes well up in tears. “Never to the likes of Hightower scum.”
Alicent’s vision blurred and soon she felt tears slip down her cheeks, that was the last straw, what finally made her turn and leave on quick feet as she should have done way sooner. She saw the true now though, the true of who Prince Daemon Targaryen really was, the true her father and brother warned her about but her foolish girly infatuation made her blind to.
An ungodly man, a devilish rake sent from the seven hells, sinful and deranged. An utter disgrace. A man her father was right in wanting far away from court, away from the King and the Iron Throne. A man unworthy of royal titles and a danger to the Seven Kingdoms.
Daemon threw his head back in laughter and blissful pleasure. He finally had his wish, to send the pathetic Hightower spawn running and crying far away from him; his pet’s laughter echoing his own, his wicked girl. Laughter quickly turned into grunts and moans, the two unashamed in their action right in the open.
If anything, that only always trilled Daemon more.
Notes:
If you liked it let me know!! Kudos and comments are very much welcomed and appreciated 😁
So, as far as I remember Alicent and Gwayne are the only specified and named of Otto's spawns but he has other unnamed sons but canon doesn't say how many, so i'll be making some OC's to fill in the roles 🤷🏾♀️ In total Otto will have 5 children, 3 boys and two girls, aside from Alicent&Gwayne canon plotlines I already have some ideas for all 5 of them and not very pleasant ones 😏
To check out the Hightower clan, names, birth dates and faceclaims you can go the fic's tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
I'm not going to express my thoughts about Alicent just yet, let us get to a little further in the story for me to rant about herTo the readers worrying about Otto possibly using OC Camellia somehow, no need cause as you've seen she is Daemon's pet without doubts alright. You guys can worry and dislike her just for her own agenda 🤭
Is her plot going to work though? I do already planned out when and how babe Rhae is going to deal with her.
What about Corlys and Rhaenys clear wish to push their children onto Rhaenyra? Is it going to work or backfire on them?
Give me your thoughts 🙆🏾♀️Our dear, dear moma Aemma... What to say about her really? Poor woman was dealt a really shitty hand in life and in around one or two chapters we get to the worst part of it 😥
Babe Rhae happiness aint lasting much longer guys, I'm dreading it too alright 💔From the next chapter on, I'm going to start to get scenes/dialogues from the TV show so it might take a bit longer for the next update 🫣
It's so boring but so tricky and hard to go almost frame by frame to pick and chose and give my own spin to these scenes so it can fit into the story, my brain is half melted already 😖 creating things is way easier tbhIf you're into visuals to accompany a story, here's the links you can check out my visuals for the fic:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-11/
Aemma - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/aemma-arryn-targaryen/outfits-chapter-11/
Rhaenyra - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfits-chapter-11/
Camellia - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/camellia/
Alicent - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/alicent-hightower/
Rhaenys - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenys-targaryen-velaryon/outfits-chapter-11/
Laena - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/laena-velaryon/outfits-chapter-11/
I guess that's all for now. Any doubts, questions etc just leave a comment and we can chat 🤗
See you in the next one 😘
Chapter 13: Chapter Twelve: 105 AC Part IV
Notes:
Heeeellooo 🫣
Sorry it took sometime again to update!!
Fortunately Ive finally finished with the Star Wars project i was writing but then the writing of this story took me out for a wild ride! The struggle was real let me tell you 🤣
Plus I wanted to finish the rest of the 105AC part but as you can see the chapters keep getting bigger so while Im just half way through the next chapter and the final part of the 105 year I decided to give you guys a little taste of the troubles I went through w this one 🤭It really is a pain in the ass to incorporate the series scenes more than to create new content, at least for me idk why 🤷🏾♀️
But anyways... on that note, from now on I'll be incorporating more of the series in the fic, various aspects, scenes, etc. Whatever is interesting enough and fitting to my own plotlines I'll pick to mix it inSo this chapter has scenes and dialogues straight from HOTD tv show but I don't own nor made any of these particular scenes nor the dialogues. All rights to HBO.
The end notes might be a little big, lots to discuss further about 🫣 If you not interested you can skip to the links and characters' ages at the end of it, if you also not interest in that either skip it all too no problems hahahgahh
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“As the first century of the Targaryen Dynasty came to a close, the health of the Old King, Jaehaerys, was failing. In those days, House Targaryen stood at the height of its strength with ten adult dragons under its yoke. No power in the world could stand against it.
King Jaehaerys along with his beloved Alysanne reigned over nearly 60 years of peace and prosperity. But tragedy had claimed both their sons, leaving the succession in doubt. In the year 101, the Old King had to choose a new heir and only two claims could be truly considered: Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the King’s eldest descendant, and her younger cousin, Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King’s eldest male descendant.
To avoid strife in the last years of his reign, to keep his hard won peace, Rhaenys, a woman, would not inherit the Iron Throne. King Jaehaerys instead chose Viserys. The old and wise king made this decision on his own to avoid a war being fought over the Iron Throne succession.
For he knew the cold truth. The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself.”
--
Queen Aemma finished to recount that particular tale, changing some things from how the Citadel already wrote about it and also leaving out most of her true thoughts on the matter, the two little Targaryens tucked in bed were looking up at her with wide eyes with intent attention; even Baela as just an infant seemed to listen in as if she actually understood anything that was said.
Aemma softly pinched the baby’s cheek making both her and Rhaenyra’s attention break, and the two giggled. Perhaps she shouldn’t have being telling about such a sombre and serious matter as a bedtime story but Aemma felt so tired lately, truly exhausted, the last stage of pregnancy draining all it could from her like it never did before.
She sadly has been sensing the claws of doom closing in on her more than ever. Aemma may not be a dreamer like her husband liked to think himself as, she may not even be a full blooded Targaryen and definitely was no dragonrider. However, Aemma just knew something dark and bad loomed over their heads, over her, ready to pour its tragedy on them.
And if this gut wrenching feeling that only grew each new day inside her heart held any true to it, she wanted her girl to be prepare for anything in anyway possible, even if she could only truly impart such small things onto her.
Aemma was no proper Queen Consort, she knew just the bare minimum of the duties of a queen but the little she knew, all that she observed and perceptively assumed right, Aemma wanted to pass on to her daughter. Those little things would add to what her girl was learning now being on the Small Council and could come in hand if Rhaenyra ever needed it.
“Now, you two better go to sleep.” Aemma said with a strained smile, then pushed herself up from the bed, her big round belly weighting her down heavily. “No more playing around with Baela, Rhaenyra, or I won’t be letting her sleep here with you anymore.”
“Fine, muña, we will sleep. Promise.” Rhaenyra smiled cheekily.
“Good. Tomorrow morning there’s a council meeting, your maid you come wake you up early.”
Her girl dramatically sighed and pouted making Aemma chuckle; despite how Rhaenyra complained about the early hours, the need to stay standing for so long and pouring wine as if she was a servant and not a princess, Aemma knew her girl genuinely enjoyed the small council meetings and all the new things she has been listening and learning. She always had too much of a curious and inquisitive mind which made Aemma proud, glad her girl wasn’t going to be just another simpering subservient little wife.
No, her Rhaenyra would have a bright future, Aemma was sure of it.
With a last gentle caress to both silver-haired girls, Aemma turned and walked out of her daughter’s room. The queen gave a soft smile to both Ser Harold and Ser Erryk stationed outside to guard her girls then walked to her own quarters, Ser Steffon promptly falling in step behind; her walk slow and awkward due the added weight that was almost too much for her small and slight frame.
She had always been a small girl, her body delicate and slight as her mother’s, and thanks to her early marriage she never had the chance to fully develop and all the suffering over lost children made Aemma constantly lose weight and become thinner than she already was. In just a week she would turn 23 years old but she felt double that number, and her body and healthy certainly has deteriorated way beyond her young age.
Still Viserys and the Maesters insisted in her getting with child again and again, and what other choice did she had but to follow her husband and king wishes? That was Aemma’s sole duty in life, she quickly learned long ago.
Not for the first time she cursed both of her grandparents for forcing her into this situation and moreover King Jaehaerys for giving the crown to Viserys, turning her life into something worse than it already was. Aemma felt her throat constrict and her eyes watering, her wild emotions due the pregnancy was lately making her bitterly muse over things she thought she had already gotten over.
However, these past few weeks Aemma found out she still wished things could have been different. Was there still time for things to become different, for her life to be better than this? The queen would often wonder these days.
“Thank you, Ser Steffon.” Aemma said when they arrived at her chambers door, she smiled gently at him. “Do try to have a pleasant night while standing guard, please.”
“Kind as always, my Queen. Thank you.” The knight bowed respectfully. “Have a good night sleep, Your Grace.”
Aemma gave a pat to his armored shoulder and then entered her chambers, her sword shield closing the door behind her. With a sigh, she crossed her antechamber and made her way to the sleeping room; her fingers adeptly worked to undo the braid on her silver-gold tresses. Even if now was truly difficult and exhausting moving around, Aemma still preferred not to call on her maids or the servants all the time for help and further prove how weak of a woman she was.
After getting ready for bed, the queen sat on one of her vanities that she now used as an improvised altar of worship to the gods and then lighted one candle to each of the Fourteen Flames. The gods of the Andals, the Seven Who Are One, had never before, not even once heard any of her prayers and did not do a single thing good to her and she knew very little of the old gods ways to pray to then with any sincerity but Aemma hoped the Valyrian gods would heard her so now she prayed only for them instead.
Her prayers though had been more focused and directed at her dear Rhaenyra than at herself and the child she carried. Why she was feeling and acting so hopeless, Aemma couldn’t really explain.
Once done with her prayers, the queen went to huge comfortable bed and tried to fall asleep but the discomfort of pregnancy only allowed her a restless and even more tiring sleep; odd dreams waking her up every so often but she could never remember whatever it was the dreams were about when she woke up.
Maybe it was for the better she did not. Her life was bad enough as it was without those dark images to plague her mind.
--
It was another sunny day, the weather not as hot as it had been a couple months prior, so the queen insisted going to the gardens even if Maester Mellos and the acolytes tried to convince her otherwise.
Aemma disliked Grandmaester Runciter greatly but Maester Mellos, who took on his duties whenever the old man was indisposed or occupied with small council matters, made her dislike for maesters turn into the same kind of hatred Daemon felt for them.
She would never forget nor forgive how he had been very callous about the loss of her dear little Rhaegar, only being sympathetic and placating towards Viserys, and now during this newest pregnancy he was breathing down her neck every second of every day; the only thing he wanted to allow her to do was breath while everything else was a danger and she should not dare move even a single hair to avoid any risks.
Aemma was the Queen though and after being as stern as she could in her tired state, looking down at the damned maester as if he was naught but a rat inconveniencing her, the old man shut up and got out of her way.
Her ladies-in-waiting were more than glad to acquiesce to the queen’s wishes if it meant at last having some fresh air and time outside the walls of the queen’s apartments, after weeks cupped up inside planning the feast the King ordered to be thrown in honor of his queen’s nameday.
The only one that Aemma noticed side-eyeing her defiance was Lady Alicent, as was often the case from the Hightowers. If only Aemma could make the girl be sent back to Oldtown but sadly she knew Viserys would never do anything to displease his dear friend Otto, the man had sank his claws too deep into her husband by now.
She had noticed the girl change in behaviour when Daemon came back from Runestone months ago, how she looked at him with starry eyes and chased after him whenever she could and Aemma did not like that at all, a second son’s daughter thinking herself in position to try to woo a prince, a married one at that. The hypocrisy of a supposed shy, meek and religious girl rankled Aemma.
But something had happened during her daughter’s nameday celebrations because since then Lady Alicent seemed more interesting in avoiding Daemon than chasing after him. ‘I just put her in her place.’ Was Daemon’s only response when Aemma questioned him about it but she did not think whatever it was had been efficient. The girl, as Rhaenyra noted during her tourney, made a drastic change to her clothing choices and now was dressing more womanly, less modestly and simply as she used to; some of the dresses Aemma remembered seeing Otto’s wife wear when she was still alive.
The queen could only assume Lady Alicent still held hope to make Daemon see and become interested in her. And if Aemma did not like seeing the Hightower girl interest in her cousin, she certainly detested seeing Alicent now instead of chasing after Daemon, hovering over Rhaenyra at every chance. The girl barely made her duties as a lady-in-waiting anymore with how often she tried to glue herself to Rhaenyra’s side and Aemma only allowed it so she could have a good enough reason to dismiss the girl as her lady-in-waiting.
Something else Aemma could not explain was the urgency she’s been feeling in seeing the Hightowers, but especially Alicent, gone from her family’s side. Though any small attempt was met with resistance by Viserys.
It was almost noon when an excited Rhaenyra came rushing into the garden to get Aemma to have the midday meal with them, the King’s request for the family to eat together, and she was happy to be finally finish with the boring organization of the feast. The queen quickly but graciously bid her ladies goodbye and allowed them the rest of the day free to do whatever they wished, for she would spend the rest of her day with her daughter and niece. And Viserys if she could convince him not to lock himself away with his pet project.
As always, Aemma felt energized by Rhaenyra’s vibrant energy, her girl almost jumping while excitedly recounting everything that had been discussed over at the council meeting. Today apparently Daemon had graced it with his presence and put the council members and the King in a tizzy with his report about the City Watch and his next plans for it, Rhaenyra told with a giggle and Aemma smiled in amusement. Daemon and his antics never failed to be a breath of fresh air in this dull life of royalty.
Arriving at the King’s private solar, where the king always preferred to take his meal with his family in a more intimate and informal way, both queen and princess were allowed inside without fanfare, the two Kingsguards stationed at the doors bowing respectfully and opening the doors for them.
Viserys was distracted working on his Valyrian model, the thing getting bigger and bigger by the day, but soon focused his whole attention on his wife and daughter.
“My love!” He exclaimed with a wide smile and walked to Aemma, resting a hand on her belly before giving a kiss to her cheek. “It feels an eternity since last we saw each other.”
“We dined together last night, Viserys, just the two of us.”
“And it has been too long since then.” Viserys insisted and gave her another kiss, then guided her to the table and helped her sit down, he looked at Rhaenyra: “Don’t you agree, my darling?”
“No time spent with you is ever really enough, muña.” Rhaenyra agreed, sitting down beside Aemma after her father pulled the chair for her.
“That is right, my girl.”
“You two.” Aemma said shaking her hear but smiled at her Rhaenyra’s words, feeling her heart swell inside her chest. How she loved her darling girl.
Viserys sat at the head of the table with Aemma on his right side and Rhaenyra on the left, the three of them soon delved into inconsequential topics while eating the variety of food spread on the table, Rhaenyra’s giggles and laughs over the silliest of things making both king and queen smile non-stop.
Another thing Aemma has been defying the maesters orders was what and how much she could eat, they always came up with the most strict of diets during her pregnancies and that never helped in anything so she might as well do as she liked anyways. Besides, both her pregnancies with Rhaenyra and little Rhaegar were more than fine while she was on Dragonstone and ate almost whatever and however much she wanted and they survived the birth, this child could too. Even if Aemma didn’t really feel like it would.
When Rhaenyra tired her voice out and decided to focus on the desserts brought in, Aemma started to discuss about the last details she had finished preparing for the feast that morning and Viserys was happy with her decisions and enthusiastic about another night of festivity that would bring people together for some joyful revelry.
“We have already received a few of the lords and ladies that accepted our invitations but more will be arriving in the next couple days, according to their letters.” Viserys said, eating his second plate of apple tarts. “Most of them if not all will als already stay in the capitol for our babe’s tournament. Others preferred to come closer to the tourney’s day.”
“Mm.” Aemma hummed sipping some tea, if she didn’t preferred her nameday feast to be more of a small affair she would have been offended by these lords choosing the unborn child over her. “Lady Jeyne and her entourage will be arriving in three days hence, I believe. Since she’s family too I put her on the guest wing along with the Velaryons.”
“Good, good.” He nodded approvingly. “What about Lady Rhea, is she coming along too? She hasn’t seen her daughter ever since Daemon brought Baela here.”
“Jeyne said she wouldn’t be able too. Some trouble at Runestone though she did not expand on that.” Aemma answered and was glad for it, no matter what Daemon said she was sure those two weren’t really in any sort of good terms with each other. And how Rhea could spend this long apart form her own daughter with little fight was beyond Aemma honestly.
“Well, let’s hope she can come for the tournament. That way Daemon can finally get rid of that…”
Aemma kicked his shin before he could finish that sentence and pointedly gestured to Rhaenyra who was as usual doing a marvellous job at pretending not to be paying attention, Aemma knew her daughter better than that though.
“What about Rhaenys and the children?” She steered the conversation to safer waters. “Have Lord Corlys said anything when they will arrive?”
“By the end of the week.” Viserys answered, and gave an apologetically smile before slightly patting Rhaenyra’s head and sliding his third unfished plate of tarts towards her.
Their daughter hated anything with apples in it though and promptly scrunched her nose in disgust then turned her attention to her orange tarts instead. Aemma almost rolled her eyes at her husband forgettable mind when it came to these small details about them.
“Unlike everyone else they don’t need to worry about days of traveling. Meleys can get here from Driftmark in a matter of hours.” He continued, brightening up at talking about his mother’s dragon. He was fonder of that dragon than even Balerion, the one he claimed.
“Oh, cousin Laenor is already flying everywhere with Seasmoke, Laena told me.” Rhaenyra piped up.
“You have been corresponding with Rhaenys’ girl?” Viserys asked in surprise.
“These two are best friends now if the constant letters flying between Kings Landing and Driftmark is any indication.” Aemma commented with a smile, glad to know her girl finally had some friend her own age.
“Cousin Laena is nice and funny.” Rhaenyra said smiling up at her father. “And she likes the same things I do. She understands so much about dragons and Valyrian lore. I like her.”
“Well then, perhaps I can convince Lord Corlys to allow her to stay here for good.”
“That would be great, kepa!” She exclaimed animatedly.
“It’s not Lord Corlys you would have to worry about, husband.” Aemma said never forgetting the type of headstrong woman their cousin was. She quickly added not to dampen Rhaenyra's mood: “I’ll talk with cousin Rhaenys about it too. I’m sure she and her husband would like if Laena could become Rhaenyra’s first lady-in-waiting.”
“We’ve talked about this, Aemma. Rhaenyra is too young to have ladies-in-waiting surrounding her every minute and distracting her from important lessons and now her new duties.” Viserys yet again shut down that idea, reciting the excuse his Lord Hand had come up with to prevent that.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was just Laena, father.” Rhaenyra said, looking hopeful and pleading at Viserys.
“Perhaps in an unofficial way then? If it was just Laena, she could just stay as a companion and friend to Rhaenyra.” Aemma attempted, one of her hands on her lap clutching at the skirt of her dress to avoid screaming at Viserys.
Aemma was not raised to be a queen, she was not supposed to have been one but she had spent enough time around Alysanne and lived years at court to know Rhaenyra, a princess and daughter of the King, should have ladies-in-waiting surrounding her instead of only a handful of maids to take care of her. It would be a sure way to shore alliances, Viserys more than anyone should know that but instead he would rather listen to Ser Otto’s nonsense.
If Aemma had not made a point in dragging Rhaenyra along to her queenly duties, her girl would have spent a childhood almost isolated with no companions much less friends. Aemma tried again and again to change her husbands’ mind but when it came to the ideas his Hand put in his head, Viserys rarely budged.
“Aye, that sounds better.” He agreed in the end and then quickly changed the subject to the tourney that would be thrown in their unborn child’s honor, right in the week the masters predicted Aemma would begin her labors.
The queen had thought that idea quite ridiculous and too ominous considering all the failed pregnancies of the past but it had been just another matter she was unable to make her husband listen to reason. And so in just over a moon and a half, the city would have another grand tournament for a child that did not born yet nor had any surety that it would live more than their last dead babe.
Aemma pulled Viserys into a conversation about her latest ideas to improve her charity works on the city in a attempt to steer the conversation of such a unconfutable topic for her; her charity work was one of the very few of her duties as queen Aemma actually had any passion about doing. Unfortunately her constant pregnancies and lack of healthy did not allow her to do as much as she desired but she still tried. Her husband’s attention though quickly became dispassionate at best over the subject, as it always happened whenever she brought it up, also another deterrent to her good spirits.
Getting annoyed with Viserys disinterest in hearing her out, simply nodding along and telling her to seek Lord Beesbury for the funding, Aemma excused both her and Rhaenyra with the lie she wished Viserys to have some peace and rest. As she had previously planned, Aemma took Rhaenyra to the nursery intent on getting some alone time with her two girls. Lady Rhea might not be acting, and apparently have no interest, as a mother to Baela but Aemma easily filled in the role.
To Aemma’s surprise and Rhaenyra’s happiness, Daemon was already inside the nursery, splayed on the floor and letting Baela crawl all over him.
“Kepus, you’re still here!” Rhaenyra exclaimed and was quick to join the two on the floor.
Aemma smiled watching the three of them before her attention fell on Daemon’s paramour who quickly stood up from the reclining chair she was sitting at to bow down to the queen, her violet eyes surveying the girl’s body up and down. Although Daemon had reassured her he was taking the necessary precautions to avoid an unwanted pregnancy, Aemma still feared the girl getting with child. That would be the perfect opportunity for Otto to make Viserys want to banish Daemon yet again.
“Give us some alone time, will you dear?” Aemma suggested in her most commanding and queenly tone, and still in a gentle way.
As usual the girl first looked over at Daemon as if asking for permission before curtsying and leaving the chamber once he gave a slight nod.
“Don’t you think is time to sent her back home, Daemon?” She inquired looking at him disapprovingly.
“She keeps me away from the Street of Silk, isn’t that what you and my brother wanted so much?” Daemon retorted.
“Does she now?” Aemma arched her eyebrows in a sceptical way, she knew better than to believe that.
Daemon simply flashed her an impish grin and then returned his attention to Baela and Rhaenyra. Aemma rolled her eyes and let the subject drop for now, that was another one she ought to get rid of sooner rather than later but it would be a worry for another day, now she just wanted the calm and contentment of watching her two girls happily playing as the innocence of childhood still permitted them.
“How have you been feeling? Everything good?” Daemon asked after a while, eyes watching like a hawk while Rhaenyra guided Baela to walk around on unsteady little feet, ready to help either one in a heartbeat if needed.
“Nothing’s ever good when we get to this stage.” Aemma replied, comfortable reclining in the chair and caressing her belly. “I feel like I will burst any second now.’
“Well, you do look about to burst.”
“How gentlemanly of you, my prince.” She said in a mocking voice. “This is nothing new anyways… Tell me about you, how are things with the city watch? Rhaenyra told me you gave quite the scare on the council this morning by just showing up.”
“You know how they are, they want me doing something productive but when I do exactly that they act as if I’m about to set them on fire.” Daemon rolled his eyes.
“Mhm… From what I hear, the Lord Hand does have reason to worry over how much success you have with the position he suggested in the first place.” Aemma commented.
“Oh, the irony.” Daemon said with a sly smirk. “He and Viserys forgot I already proved how good I am with building an army from scratch. Not my fault if they gave me the means for that this time around.”
“You have gathered that many men for the City Watch then?”
“Two thousand of the best men our city now has to protect them and enforce our King’s law.” He confirmed proudly, then turned his eyes to Aemma when Rhaenyra sat down to let Baela crawl around instead. “I have not used many of them yet, just enough to start on some patrols in the last couple months. You know, to let the criminals have a little taste for what is to come.”
“And what is to come, Daemon?” Aemma asked in a more stern tone. “You don’t need to do the same theatrics you do with Viserys and the council with me too, you know that.”
“I know, cousin. But a bit of mystery is more fun.” He winked at her. “Your feast will happen in just a week. And you’re about to pop that baby out which means the tourney Viserys will throw in honor of the kid is less than two moons away… Lords, ladies and plenty other people are already arriving here. We need to make sure the city is safe soon.”
“You have a plan to make that happen.” She said in affirmation rather than a question, deep down not really wanting to know exactly what Daemon planned to do.
“Always, cousin. And that will get me even busier which is why I’ve decided to spend this afternoon with the girls. I was just waiting for your meal with the king to finish so I could go get Rhaenyra but good thing you brought her.”
“Why didn’t you come eat with us instead? It’s time you and Viserys make peace, Daemon.”
“If he wanted peace, Aemma, he should treat me as his brother and a prince of the blood not like a cockroach.” Daemon scoffed.
“Daemon…” Aemma started to say, wishing to sooth her cousin’s hurt ego and try again to bridge the gap between the two brothers, but Daemon was quick to interrupt her.
“Let’s just enjoy a nice afternoon with the girls, alright? My nights and days are already going to be tiring and stressful from now on.”
Aemma sighed with resignation and let the matter drop, she knew better than to push Daemon too much and she did not want him to leave and spoil the girls’ time; he still rarely spent time in the keep for too many moons now. Baela was almost one year old and before long would start understanding her father’s absence as her Rhaenyra had learned too fast as well, Aemma would rather not ruin however much time Baela could get with her father.
While watching the three Targaryens play on the floor, the girls loudly shrieking and giggling when Daemon decided to play a dragon chasing after them, Aemma felt a peace she rarely felt; a warmth taking over her that could not be anything other than utter love for her little family. The queen was still extremely tired though, energy quickly being drained from her body by the baby within, so despite the rucks the three of them were causing Aemma fell asleep at some point. The first peaceful and dreamless sleep she had in a while, thank the Fourteen.
--
When the queen woke up, it was already dark outside, and both Daemon and the sun were gone. She was not the only one to fall asleep, Rhaenyra was fast asleep on the small child bed and Baela also slept in her own crib; Camellia sat on the other reclining chair between the crib and the bed, doing some embroidery while quietly humming a song.
If the girl wasn’t Daemon’s paramour and if she did not have that dangerous glint of ambition in her eyes whenever looking at Daemon, Aemma would have actually liked to keep the girl around as a companion. She was a better company than either of her ladies-in-waiting were for sure but alas Aemma really needed to have the girl sent away, preferably before Baela could get confused and think the girl was her actual mother. Or before Rhaenyra decided to throw a tantrum to solve the problem, if her girl’s angry glares at the red-haired was any indication she would soon do it.
Camellia quickly stood up when she noticed the queen awake and went to help her stand up. Aemma gave her a genuine smile of gratitude before walking to Baela’s crib, the baby girl was with one of her hands up to her face, a finger stuck to her mouth greedily sucking on it – a habit she was unable to break yet thanks to Daemon’s encouragement of it to spite the mother who wasn’t even present on Baela’s life – while her other hand rested atop her dragon egg; the endearing image brought back memories from the time Rhaenyra was just a babe and did the very same thing as well.
Rhaenyra, her darling girl, the most precious thing in her life, the one good thing she ever accomplished. Her only living babe. Aemma felt her eyes sting with tears, again, while standing above her daughters sleeping form, admiring her precious babe.
“Get Ser Harrold for me, please.” Aemma asked, looking down to hide her watering eyes.
Ser Harrold came into the room a minute later, both him and the other two Kingsguard having stayed all this time outside waiting and guarding them, as was their duty.
“Your Grace.” The knight bowed respectfully. “Prince Daemon left a while ago and asked us not to disturb yours and the girls’ sleep.”
“Good. I was in need of a nice rest.” She looked up when she was sure her tears would not fall and she could at least feign a strained smile, then she gestured to Rhaenyra. “Let’s take this lazy one back to her own rooms.”
The knight, the one Prince Baelon personally chose to be the one to guard and protect his darling granddaughter all those years ago, bowed again and then swiftly got Rhaenyra from the bed. Her girl grumbled in her sleep before settling into Ser Harold’s arms.
“Make sure Baela has a bath and a feeding in a bit.” Aemma said back to Camellia who nodded in agreement. “After dinner, bring her to Rhaenyra’s chambers, then you can take the night off. Daemon will be busy tonight so I’m sure you could use sometime for yourself.”
Aemma did not lost the flash of displeasure in the girl’s green eyes at that, no doubt not happy at not having Daemon for the night again, but it was quick gone and the girl graciously curtsied and agreed to her orders. Aemma tried not to sigh in displeasure herself, she would soon solve this little problem anyways; or would force Daemon to solve his own mess whatever was faster.
A plan for tomorrow, now she desperately needed to soak in a nice bath, with water as hot as she could possibly bribe her maids for since the cursed maesters forbade even warm water as well, then she would have a nice dinner with her husband and daughter before putting her both of her girls to sleep with a nicer bedtime story this time. And with any lucky, afterwards she could convince Viserys that although constantly in discomfort in this last moons of pregnancy she was still a woman with needs, his wife and queen, and her body still desired for a bit of pleasure without only the obligation of having his seed quickening her womb.
Aemma was a Targaryen and her blood run just as hot as any dragon’s. Certainly hotter than her husband’s sometimes.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
At the Gate of the Gods, near the West Barracks of the City Watch, the majority of Daemon’s men were gathered awaiting their Commander’s orders. After moons of hard work, he could finally set his men, his army, loose on the filthy crawling all over the streets of his family’s city; if the king and his councilmen did not deign important to do something about it, then Daemon would. And be revered for it by the people.
For moons he restored the City Watch to the glory it never was before, and little by little introduced the new Watch to the people; he wanted to make a real impact and already his attempt had bore fruit. The people named his men the Gold Cloaks for the gold colored cloaks Daemon chose for them to wear, a deliberate choice to set them apart, to make them stand out and very soon that color would be feared.
Despite only organizing usual patrols all around the city for all those months with not even half of the men available to him, there already has been a change in the crime on the city thanks to the efficacy of his men. Word had spread quickly of the new city watchmen with gold cloaks patrolling the streets and being brutal in making criminals pay for their crimes.
However, it all has been happening in Flea Bottom and the more poor parts of the city so word did not reach the king’s ears just yet. After tonight it definitely would, if that cunt did not made sure of it, Daemon gleefully would so he could see Viserys face in realizing his misstep in putting that much power into his hands.
Throwing his own gold cloak over his shoulder, the fabric even better than the already good material of his men, Daemon made his way to the men and soon the air was filled with the loud thump of fists hitting their armored chests. A symphony of deference towards Daemon and only him.
“Commander on the floor!” Luthor Largent’s, one of his most esteemed Captains, voice boomed to silence the men.
“When I took command of the Watch and made it anew, most of you were stray mongrels, starving and without true purpose. Some of you even a bunch of undisciplined wild dogs.” Daemon said loudly, looking around at every one of his men.
Though most of the Watch was now mostly composed of smallfolk, men with little to no standing in the kingdoms, there was still some knights from high and known houses and even a couple of lords’ sons in their midst that Daemon made quick work in turning them equals with all the rest.
“But now you’re a pack of hounds. You’re sated and honed for the hunt.” He added and the men all howled, it almost made Daemon chuckle before continuing. “My family’s city, your city, has fallen into squalor. Crime of every breed had been allowed to thrive. No longer... Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold.”
All the men cheered at that and in synchrony they all started to disperse, everyone already aware of their destinations and tasks. For weeks Daemon had gone over and over the drills in how they were going to purge the city as best as possible; they all knew what was to be done and how they should go about it. And just like he said months prior, he would not stay idle while his men did the work for him, Daemon would hunt right alongside them; hounds well-trained by a dragon, the apex predator of all species.
Daemon stayed with the group with all the few remaining green knights and little lordlings, still not fully trusting their skills and willingness to get really bloodied just yet, so he could observe as well as guide them in the path he wanted them to go. Of all the men of that group the only one noteworthy that Daemon had a modicum of respect and trust was Ser Harwin Strong, ironically the son of the man who replaced him on his old position.
Despite his young age the man was built like a mountain, tall and broad, truly skilful with a sword and had no qualms in getting his hands dirty nor did he expect to be treated differently because of his status, he fit right in faster than Daemon expected. If tonight he proved himself again, perhaps Daemon could make him a captain and shore up some alliance with an heir of good and high standing. But first, he and all the others would need to get their hands dirtier and bloodier than ever before. And oh, how they did.
All criminals, from the pettiest ones to the most dangerous were hunt down and apprehended, or killed right away if they struggled too much, and dragged to the main city’s square for the final show. Thanks to Mysaria’s little network, Daemon received the necessary information to find those criminals and spread word for the people to come and watch the Gold Cloaks dole out the crown’s justice. As well as for them to stay inside their houses and not wonder the streets while they did their work.
Hours into the night the new City Watch scoured Kings Landing from south to north, from east to west, every corner was searched, no stone was left unturned, and the highest number of criminals ever apprehended in the capitol were caught and dragged to meet Daemon’s justice.
Once it was all done, Daemon and his Watch converged in the main and biggest square of the city. One of his Captains, Ser Randyll Barret, was in charge of announcing the crimes committed by the people that were round up in the middle of the large square while the rest of the men would dole out the punishment that best fit the crime. Daemon watched with utter joy it all unfold, the fruits of his labor, his hard work paying off beautifully, his tittle as a Commander finally being earned in a glorious way.
He only ever participated when a murderer was brought forth and he would sate Dark Sister’s hunger for fresh blood by decapitating or gutting those criminals, uncaring for the blood spattering on him. Daemon would truly thrive in this position and in just a couple more hours he would rub that on his brother’s face.
Rub on Viserys face how he was the one to make their ancestors proud, how he was the true dragon of the family, he was the one deserving of the Targaryen name. Not weak foolish Viserys.
When they were finished at last, Daemon let the men loose to hunt for another sort of entertainment; he had already selected and paid specific taverns and brothels to entertain his men for the remainder of the night. Mysaria’s brothel one of them but the one Daemon chose for only his high ranked men, the best of whores for the best of soldiers. He accompanied them there to share a drink or two while waiting for the right time to make his way back to the Red Keep.
“The rats and worms already heard about the success of your night, my prince.” Mysaria slithered her way to his side, wearing an excuse of a dress that barely covered anything. “Congratulations, you did make this city actually safe now.”
“That was the plan.” Daemon said with a smug expression and spread his legs wider on the chair so she could sit on his lap.
“Was that all? Nothing more to it?” She asked in a false sweet voice Daemon knew better than to fall for, shamelessly sitting right on top of his crotch.
“Don’t you know better than to be too curious about my business, my dear Mysaria?”
“I’m just a curious woman, my prince. No harm in it.” She said mockingly, fingers trailing up and down his armored chest. Then she looked at him with those enticing blue eyes and made her most seducing voice. “Won’t you also celebrate this night like the rest of your men? I have prepared the best room for you. And I’ll be all yours.”
“Good.” Daemon grabbed her by the jaw and pulled her face closer to his, licking her lips to taste that fruit flavour she like to put on them. “We will be celebrating later though. I have to report of my success to the king first.”
“I’m sure His Grace will be happy to know his city will be safe for the future celebrations in honor of his child.”
Daemon chuckled darkly, both of them knew that would not be the case, then he gave a rough slap to her arse before pulling her for a real kiss; nothing turned him as much as the spill of blood, as the chaos and carnage he could create. After a few more dirty kisses and more ale than he intended, Daemon finally stood up to and raised a cup in congratulation to his men for the great work done before leaving the place.
The first rays of sunlight were just starting to peak through the dark sky when Daemon arrived at the Red Keep, still too early and too soon for the council meeting he was sure Otto would call for just to badmouth him. Not wanting to ruin and waste his hard on that the adrenaline of the night and Mysaria got him with, Daemon walked to his chambers where his little bird was now nightly sleeping.
His cousin had given in on Rhaenyra’s insistence in not wanting to sleep alone anymore and now his Baela was sleeping every night with his spoiled niece; his two precious girls building the strongest of bonds every single day. That made his heart constrict in the best of ways to know his daughter would have the type of sibling love and companionship he never truly did, his and Viserys brotherly bond had been too short and fleeting to be seriously considered.
Daemon shook his head to put those thoughts aside for the moment and focused on the delicious body laying on his bed. He barely took his armor and the clothes underneath it off properly and barely allowed Camellia to fully wake up before he was sinking himself deep inside her tight warm walls; just rutting on her to let out some of his pent up energy. It was rough and quick but still enjoyable for the two of them, his little bird singing beautifully to him through her own climax.
“The night was a success then?” She asked after calming down her panting breaths, still bleary eyed from sleep.
“More than, I dare say.” Daemon answered while rearranging his armor. “But now it’s my turn to face the king’s judgment.”
“Will the king be too mad?” Camellia asked worriedly, she learned fast to always worry when would be the next time the stupid king would send Daemon away.
“Probably.” He shrugged not really caring either way, then picked his belt with Dark Sister from the ground. “No worries though, little bird, he won’t be able to sent me away anytime soon.”
Camellia hummed, glad to know that, and then turned to her side to go back to sleep the same time Daemon walked out of his chambers. The teas and juices she was secretly drinking to increase her fertilization left her quite drained of energy. Hopefully tonight it would finally work since she was on her fertile days and her dragon prince’s seed still dripping from her core would finally take. After all it was becoming difficult to hide from him the fact she did not drink moontea or anything else anymore; the sooner she got with child the better.
It was a risk, she knew, but it was a risk worth taking and Camellia was sure her love would understand and forgive her once he had a son on his arms.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“It was an unprecedented roundup of criminals of every ilk.” Ser Otto informed the king while they walked towards the Small Council chambers for a last minute meeting he had called upon in the earliest hours of morning. At last Prince Daemon had done something egregious that would further weak his position with the king. “Your brother made a public show of it, meting out the summary judgments himself. I’m told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting dismemberments when it was done.”
“Gods be good.” Viserys sighed, his brother’s violent ways still shocked him even after all this time. Why must his little brother be such a brutish man hungry for violence and blood? Viserys wished Daemon could be more like him and avoid them so much headache.
“The Prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity.” Otto said when they arrived at the council chambers and was surprised by the sight of the prince himself sitting at the table wearing a smug expression, not even deigning to stand up for the king’s arrival like was the norm.
“Brother.” Daemon greeted Viserys with a grin, satisfied in hearing Otto’s opinion on the matter and even more satisfied by Viserys displeased face.
“Daemon.” Viserys greeted him and fought another sigh when seeing blood splattered even on his brother’s face.
“Carry on. You were saying something about my impunity.” He looked up at the Hightower cunt, his blood still running hot and he would love for an excuse to actually fight the man.
“You are to explain your doings with the City Watch.”
Daemon had to supress his urge to fucking laugh at the man’s audacity in ordering a prince, a dragonrider no less, in explaining himself about anything. Hand or not, Daemon was the one made Commander of the City Watch by the two of them, his doings was exactly what they asked of him. If now they regretted it, oh well then just another win for Daemon.
“Your gold cloaks made quite the impression last night, didn’t they?” Viserys asked after sitting down, tone not as stern or condemning as he probably should use, he was not really feeling in the mood for a brand new conflict with his brother.
No matter that Otto was right about his brother’s actions, they were the ones to give Daemon that power in the first place and that had kept his brother busy and away from trouble until now. If he could rein in his brother urges and make him not repeat this violent episode again, it would still be a good thing to keep Daemon occupied and even sated with this position. Besides, he wanted Daemon around more often and that wouldn’t happen if they were to fight over something his brother was clearly proud about.
“Did they?” Daemon questioned keeping on his smug expression and smirking at his brother in that usual way that usually made Viserys want to smile remembering his boyish mischief back when they were just kids.
“The city watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim.” The Hand said more firmly, noticing the king mellowing towards the prince, and that wouldn’t do. “They are an extension of the crown.”
‘Yes, an extension of my crown, my power.’ Daemon thought but said instead, in his most diplomatic and calm voice:
“The Watch was enforcing the crown’s laws.” Then he turned to the man beside him, the one Viserys thought worthy enough to replace him with. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Strong?”
“My Prince, I don’t think…” The man started to say, a very unimpressed expression on his face but Otto was quick to interrupt his fellow councilmen; something no member but the king should be allowed to do.
“Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws.”
Daemon purple eyes zeroed in on Otto again, unsure who was he angrier with: his passive and weak brother or the audacious Hand.
“Nobles from every corner of the realm are descending upon King’s Landing for our Queen’s nameday feast and for my brother’s tourney.” Daemon repeated what he had said to his cousin the previous day, which was actually one of the reasons why he had decided a purge of the city was long overdue. “Do you want them mugged, raped, murdered? You might not know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep but much of King’s Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying.”
Daemon returned his attention to his brother who fortunately was paying attention to him and actually looked as if he was listening and seriously considering his words, so Daemon added the simplest of facts a king should know and tried to achieve:
“Our city should be safe for all its people.”
“I agree.” Viserys promptly, of course he knew that and was glad his brother was working to make that happen before the tourney to celebrate the birth of his son. Attempting to light the tense air and perhaps change the subject, he continued in a joking tone and a smile: “I just hope you don’t have to maim half of my city to achieve this.”
“Time will tell.” Daemon said in the same joking manner so Viserys would feel relaxed and placated, more amenable to his side than of his disgruntled Hand.
“We installed Prince Daemon as commander to promote law and order.” Lord Corlys made his opinion known, siding with Daemon as was often the case and it never failed to amuse Daemon. “The criminal element should fear the City Watch.”
“Thank you for your support, Lord Corlys.” He grinned almost mockingly to the man, but still genuinely grateful at least one person would actually side with him.
“If only the prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife, the mother of his daughter, as he does his work, Your Grace.” Otto aimed for the prince’s known weak spot, insistence enough would soon make the king finally give in and send both Daemon and his daughter away. “You have not been in the Vale or Runestone for quite sometime. Doesn’t your infant daughter have need of her mother?”
“I think my dear bronze wife is happier for my absence… You know, after so many months of being fucked by me she needed some rest.” Daemon did not raise to his bait, laying his own trap instead.
“Dear gods.” Lord Beesbury murmured at his crude choice of words.
“Lady Rhea is your wife, a good and honourable lady of the Vale.” Otto continued on, knowing the prince would eventually snap. “Moreover, Baela will be her only heir if you are unable to provide her with a son to inherit the title. She will soon need to be prepared for her duties.”
“In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women.” Daemon said in the same calm demeanour. He certainly was more than happy to have only Baela inherit after the bronze bitch and if he played his cards right she would have the whole of the Vale too, but he could not divulge that plan so he ignored the cunt’s attempt to bring his daughter into the discussion to anger him. “I can assure you, Lord Hand, the sheep are prettier.”
“Dear me”. Lord Beesbury murmured again while the Grandmaester also looked on in shock and displeasure at the prince.
The king sighed heavily again, bowing and shaking his head at his brother’s insistence in verbally mistreating his own wife like that. Fortunately Otto had been thoughtful enough to advise him against calling on Rhaenyra for that meeting, his dear and innocent girl definitely should not be hearing about her uncle’s foul ways, even if Viserys did wish for her to stop with the favouritism towards Daemon.
“You made a vow before the Seven to honor you wife in marriage.” Otto said louder, composure slipping with aggravation at the prince’s calmness.
“Well, I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hand if you’re in want of a woman to warm your bed. Your own lady wife passed many moons ago.” “Daemon almost smirks when Otto stands up at that, face clouded with anger, the one to fall for Daemon’s bait instead. “Did she not?”
“Otto.” Viserys called out in a tone of warning but too soft to be really considered as such, fortunately his Hand does sit down even if still glowering at Daemon.
“Perhaps you are not ready to move on just yet.” Daemon added with another malicious smirk.
“You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you.” Viserys said after glaring a warning at his brother to behave. “Must you indulge him?”
“My apologies, Your Grace.” Otto’s voice is strained, anger boiling inside despite his apparent collected appearance, eyes locked on the cursed prince wishing for nothing but to get rid of the man.
“This council had, at great expense, bettered the City Watch to your exacting standards.” Viserys turns his attention to his brother wanting to put the matter to rest finally and move on to more pleasant matters. “Enforce my laws, but understand any further performances like last night’s will be answered.”
“Understood, Your Grace.” While Otto’s voice had been strained in anger, Daemon’s had a mocking tilt to it that only made the Hightower angrier.
Daemon stood up and without bowing or showing any other expected signs of respect to the king walked out of the throne room, his gait light and relaxed, feeling satisfied how well the meeting ended being rather than the mess he thought it would be. If he knew all he had to do to make Viserys actually crave for his attention and act as if he cared was for him to vehemently ignore his brother and avoid all attempts at peace, Daemon would have done it way sooner.
“King’s Landing has been in decline since my grandmother passed.” Viserys said in a low tone, almost in a whisper not to risk Daemon hearing his next words. “In the end this new City Watch might be a good thing.”
Something that actually worked to keep his brother occupied and that bettered an aspect of his reign Viserys hadn’t really gave any thoughts to; Daemon’s position was a benefit for Viserys even if he did agree his brother’s way of going about things was rather distasteful. Moreover, it would not do to disrupt the peace and joy his family was currently living in so he would try to keep Daemon around, at least until his son and heir was finally born.
“Since we are already here, let’s move on to nicer topics, shall we?” He asked to his councilmen. “My wife told me she finished the final details for her feast next week, is all in order, Lord Beesbury?”
“Aye, Your Grace.” The Master of Coin confirmed and smiled, between king and queen he liked the queen’s mindful ways better. “Queen Aemma is always through when organizing events and very mindful of expenses.”
“Wonderful! She also had some new ideas for her charity work, talk with her later about it.”
“It would be more advisable for the queen not to exert nor stress herself so.” Grandmaster Runcinter said something for the first time the whole meeting. “This last stage of pregnancy are as delicate as the first couple of moons.”
“Aemma will not even need to leave the comforts of her chambers for this, Grandmaester, no need for so much worry.” Viserys retorted in a dismissive tone; though close to her due date and her beautifully belly too big now, his dear wife certainly was energized lately as their nights of love had shown him. “And her charity work always lifts her spirits. It will be good for both her and our babe.”
“As you say, my King.”
“Now, about my heir’s tournament planning.” Viserys smiled widely. “Lords and ladies, smallfolk and the likes are indeed arriving on the capitol for the event. We ought to make sure everything is perfect.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon fucked Mysaria, hand gripping tight at her hips while he pounded on her roughly but no matter how good it felt he could not truly find pleasure this time; his mind worrying too much over too many things. He had a reputation to uphold though and so he did his best at putting on a show for the curious eyes watching in on them from the holes on the walls partition. Daemon never minded that and even liked to have people watch on his sexual prowess, there was a reason after all why word spread about his tastes in bed.
Earlier when he came back to Mysaria’s establishment after the council meeting, Daemon was still savouring his small victory against the Hightower cunt and was all to eager to celebrate it, dive into depraved revelry. However after a few cups of ale, his worries caught up with him and soured the last hours of his enjoyment.
With a snarl more of frustration and anger than actual pleasure, Daemon pulled out of Mysaria and finished painting her backside with his come. Getting up, he picked one of the silky blankets and threw it over his head, not wishing for the curious eyes of whores and patrons alike to see his distress and then walked over to the window.
“What troubles you, my prince?” Mysaria asked after discreetly making a gesture for the curious eyes to leave and then walked to where he sat, she knew him well enough by now to know something was bothering him enough to spoil his desires. “I could bring in another. Perhaps a maiden, I have several now that new girls arrived from Lys. I could even arrange one with silver hair.”
Daemon only hummed and turned his eyes away, looking out the window.
“You are Daemon Targaryen.” Mysaria said, hands on each side of his face in a comforting gesture and lowered her voice, she had a suspicion what the matter was. “The rider of Caraxes. Wielder of Dark Sister… The King cannot replace you.”
He looked up at her, not exactly surprised she could read him so easily but definitely not in the mood to spill his thoughts to her, though he did appreciate her attempt at consoling him. Also for understanding him so well since so very few people even ever tried. Daemon just rested his forehead into her shoulder, the most fragile gesture he ever allowed himself to showcase to the people closest to him, and let her thread her fingers through his hair and face in gentle caresses of comfort.
They stayed like that for a few more minutes until Daemon decided he had enough and needed some better distraction for his mind. With a kiss to her shoulder, he stood up and went to put his armor back.
“Make sure your place and your best girls are always available to my men.” Daemon said in more of an order than a request. “I’m sure criminals will keep sprouting regardless of last night’s show. We will be busy these next weeks before the king’s tourney.”
“As long as you keep paying me this good, the best will always be available for you, my prince.”
“Of course.” Daemon chuckled and then flashed a grin at Mysaria before swiftly leaving the establishment again.
To avoid being bothered by the people, most of them very grateful for the Watch work, he pulled up his cloak over his head and kept his head down, feet knowing the way by heart. Daemon stopped first by the dragonpit to order the keepers to saddle Caraxes, and then he went into the tunnels and made his way towards his chambers. After cleaning the night away from his body and putting on riding clothes, Daemon walked out his chambers and headed for the nursery.
Fortunately, his Baela was there being fussed over by his redbird; his cousin and Rhaenyra were probably busy with some court matter or another, something too important if they did not take Baela along. Making sure his girl had already been fed and changed recently, Daemon picked her up with a smile matching hers.
He has been quite remiss of his daughter these days, too focused on everything else, and he hated it; the one thing he despised to think in being like either his father or brother was to be an absent and uncaring father.
Unfortunately, in the upcoming weeks he would still be unable to spend some real quality time with Baela, and Rhaenyra for that matter. With a position he actually enjoyed and could be of importance, Daemon wanted to put on an effort and succeed for good this time for more than just aggravate and take revenge against Viserys and Otto.
Especially if Aemma did birth a healthy enough son that could live past just a couple of months as Rhaenyra had. He then would be supplanted and the little importance he possessed would become dust, so Daemon needed to make sure he had something else to compensate for it. And he did hope his cousin could finally birth a son or daughter that would live and not suffer another fatal blow to her already extinguishing fire.
Getting to the stables, a simple look made one of the stable boy rush to quickly saddle his favourite horse. Once that was done, Daemon swiftly mounted it with Baela secured on his chest and then rode out of the keep, riding through the city’s streets back towards the Dragonpit, people paying intent attention to them as expected and whispering between themselves.
His girl babbled happily all the way there, little legs swinging side to side and little hands tightly clutching at his doublet; her weight and warmth against him calmed his mind at last. Baela almost screeched when they approached an impatient Caraxes, though she did not know yet what a dragon was by now she was aware enough what the great red beast meant, a flight high in the sky through the clouds.
Daemon could not wait for her dragon egg to hatch and for her to be old enough to fly her own dragon, his heart wanting nothing more than to fly along with both of his girls, but for now he was happy to have Baela snuggled closely to his chest while they soured the skies atop Caraxes.
His brother would never allow Rhaenyra to go anywhere away from Westeros – at least not until she was old enough to defy him, that is – but Daemon did want to take Baela to meet the wonders to be seen on the places across the Narrow Sea. Perhaps in a year or two he would, once her body got stronger for the long trip, and preferably before he needed to off his bronze bitch and take control of Runestone. Though Daemon had planned to do it in these moons that Viserys was so overjoyed with their cousin’s pregnancy that it would be ease to sway him away from any suspicions towards Daemon, he thought better against doing it now.
Rhea’s death now would destabilize the Vale and bring more problems to Lady Jeyne’s already troubled rule, which could then distress Aemma and Daemon would rather not be the cause anything went wrong with her pregnancy. His dear gentle cousin had suffered way too much already. Daemon also needed to shore up more alliances, strengthen his influence and position so the take over Runestone could be swift and without much trouble. Fortunately for Rhea he would have to let her live a while longer.
If his new niece or nephew lived long enough, Daemon would get rid of his wife then; if it was a boy even better for him since that would make Viserys all but blind for anything and everything.
For now Daemon was more than satisfied in angering Rhea by refusing to take Baela back to Runestone, the bronze bitch’s letters left unanswered or receiving a very rude reply when Daemon felt like it. Thankfully his brother was now inclined to not meddle into that particular matter of Daemon’s life and so her requests to the king were also ignored, only Aemma had tried to assuage her somewhat. Whether Rhea actually missed her daughter and cared to have her around or just wanted to parade her around for those displeased lords as a powerful tool to force them into submission, did not matter to Daemon. He would not part with his girl and surely would not have her growing up in the Vale and away from their family more than necessary.
After a couple of hours flying over with his Baela around King’s Landing and its surroundings, Daemon returned to the Dragonpit feeling lighter than he had in days, all worries and stress far away from his mind.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“Rhaenyra.” Queen Aemma called out for her daughter in an admonishing tone of voice, standing by the door of her bedroom watching her girl still only on her undergarments and hair in disarray while the poor maids fretted around trying to get Rhaenyra ready for the feast. “Why are you not ready yet? The feast has already started.”
“We apologized, Your Grace.” One of the maids said after a curtsey. “We’ve tried to get the Princess ready in time but she refuses to put on the dress.”
“I want to wear my red dress, muña!” Rhaenyra exclaimed crossing her arms and pouting petulantly.
“And I want you to wear the blue dress instead.” Aemma said with a stern expression, only making her daughter pout harder. “I asked them to make sure you would wear so stop giving them trouble.”
“Why do I need to wear the blue dress? The red is prettier!”
“Because it’s my nameday festivity, darling.” She answered in a softer voice and then went to sit on Rhaenyra’s bed after dismissing the maids with a wave. “I want us both to honour our Arryn heritage today.”
“But we are Targaryens, muña.” Rhaenyra sat by her side.
“We are both, my darling. Arryn blood runs through our veins just as thick as Targaryen blood.” Aemma explained softly and caressed her girl’s messy hair. “I as of late have being missing the Eyrie and my family there, it’s been a while since the last time I visited. You were too young to even have proper recollection of it.”
“Mm.” She hummed pensively and leaned into her mother’s side. “I would never want to go so long away from home.”
“Some things are inevitable, I’m afraid… But anyways, Lady Jeyne as well as some of our Arryn relatives and quite a good number of lords and ladies of the Vale came to honour me today, it would be rude of me not to honour our shared roots too.”
“But is just a dress, muña, what does it matter what color it is?” Rhaenyra asked curiously and looked up at her mother with inquisitive eyes.
“Men dress in armor and wield sharp weapons to go to war. We women, however, have to face our battles and duties in a different way.” Aemma imparted another small lesson to her girl, something Queen Alysanne quickly taught her when she was brought to King’s Landing. “We have our silks and tongues for that. The way we dress can be more than just a pretty adornment, it can relay messages, and it can show our standing and alliances. That’s why is so important for us to be mindful of how we dress.”
“Is that why the houses of the realm have all their individual set of colors for their banners and are always so proud to display them?”
“Aye, the colors and symbols represents our houses, where we come from, who we are.” She replied and gave a kiss to the top of Rhaenyra’s head, “Tonight I want to remember that I am from the Vale, a falcon first and I want you to also be proud to show you too have Arryn blood.”
“Alright, muña, I will do it for you.” Rhaenyra smiled up at her mother, grateful for that knowledge she did not fully understood till now.
The queen did not bother to call the maids back in and helped Rhaenyra dress and then braided her silver-gold hair in a fashion similar to her own braid; the jewellery she let Rhaenyra choose for herself. A fight she did not won though was Rhaenyra’s insistence in wearing the jade tiara Daemon gifted her.
Mother and daughter entered the Throne Room awhile later, everyone present standing up to curtsey or bow to them while they walked to the high table. The king kissed both his wife and daughter with a beaming smile, then he gave a speech showering the queen with compliments and love; Aemma’s own speech was something quick just to thank everyone who was attending since she had never liked of doing such things.
The celebration was not unlike that of her own daughter, all of Aemma’s favoured dishes were served, and the bards sang her favourite songs and songs they composed just for the occasion. Once the feast would be done, the last of the plates taken away, Aemma made a point to remember the servants to distribute what was left of the food between themselves and the smallfolk.
The queen walked around the room, despite the maesters protest against it, to greet the ladies and lords who made time to attend, especially the tables with both the Vale and the North houses. That Lady Jeyne and an entourage of the Vale came for her nameday was not a big surprise, they always tried to come to the celebrations in her honor even when their lady could not make it, this time though she was sure her young niece came for she was still in desperate need to show her dissidents she was close to the crown by blood of all things. Jeyne all but confirmed it when Aemma sat down to talk with her for a bit.
However the Starks’ presence were quite a surprise, they rarely if ever made the arduous and long path from the North to Kings Lading if not for a coronation itself or some truly urgent matter. In another life she was supposed to have married Rickon Stark, their fathers had been great friends, but then Queen Alysanne commanded her back to court and both the queen and the king thought a marriage to Viserys was a wiser choice.
Being in the presence of Lord Stark and conversing with him for the first time since she was but a child, made Aemma wonder if her life would have been different if that scenario came to pass instead. Maybe her life would have been better but then she wouldn’t have had her darling daughter and Aemma could not fathom a life without Rhaenyra in it.
“Thank you so much for making the time to come, Lord Stark.” Aemma said with her most polite and queenly voice, sitting on the chair beside his on the table since her swollen aching feet needed some reprieve from walking. “Though I must say it was quite a surprise.”
“Father wanted to come himself but his health is not the best at the moment.” Lord Stark said with a polite smile.
“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope he recovers soon.”
“Hopefully. I’m not sure I want to take over his role just yet, to be honest.” He commented and seemed to relax some, sipping his cup of ale.
“It is quite a dreadful thing to take on the duties of ruling too soon.” Aemma said, though she knew he was a few years older than Viserys and probably way more ready for his role.
“Aye.” He agreed and turned on his chair to look at her more fully. “Father has always been very proud that his friend’s daughter became queen, hence why he sent me in his stead.”
“That is very nice of him, my father would have been thankful.” She replied bashfully by those unexpected and somewhat brash words; after all she ended queen thanks to a series of very tragic events.
“He did not told me anything but I think this time around he wanted to come and then ordered me to come because he wanted to see if you were alright.” Lord Stark continued, grey-blue eyes boring into her. “How harsh things are up North he could never come visit you but I know he wished he could.”
“Oh.” Aemma looked on at him at a loss of words, shocked to hear such unbridled and genuine worry for her state from men she had not had any contact for many years.
“Word of your never ending pregnancies and losses made its way even all the way there, you know?” He said and leaned a bit towards her, lowering his voice. “We were sorry to hear you were been put through such thing by your kingly husband.”
“Lord Stark.” Aemma said in warning but still not sure what else to say.
“I apologize for my blunt words, you know how we Northerners are.” He just shrugged. “But I still remember from those two times father took me to visit the Eyrie how small and delicate you were as a child. Even to me it was a shock Lord Arryn allowed you to marry so young.”
“Well, it’s not like he could fight a King’s decree.” She said lowly, the same old excuse she liked to tell herself to reason why her father had indeed allowed such a thing.
“I guess not.” Lord Stark leaned back on his chair again and kept his eyes on her, looking pensive. “Anyways, father and I understand some of your plight, my Queen… My own mother had difficulties with pregnancies and could only ever healthily deliver me, then died from childbed fever after having my brother. Sadly my own wife has no better luck either which is why we have only Cregan.”
“Oh, I did not know that. I’m sorry.” Aemma said sincerely sad for him and his wife, and rested a hand on his forearm for comfort.
“It’s no real bother to me.” He shrugged again. “I would be grateful and satisfied if we were to ever only have Cregan… I’m sorry the king apparently does not share the same feeling.”
“You had a son, my lord, an heir.” She retorted coolly, quick to bring her hand back to her lap. “My husband and I cannot boast of the same.”
“Son or daughter, a child’s healthiness is all that should matter, You Grace.” Lord Stark retorted back but with no real bite to his words, at least not towards her, and looked over to the high table where Rhaenyra was animatedly chatting with the Velaryon kids.
“Well, you sound just like my good brother.” Aemma tried to lighten the mood and gave an awkward chuckle at the unexpected realization more than one man could think that way.
“A wiser man than his kingly brother, I see.” Lord Stark said with a grin that held almost the same kind of mischief she was used to seeing on Daemon’s smirks.
Aemma was left without what to say once again by him, feeling her cheeks heat through she was not sure over at exactly. And again could not avoid thinking what her life could have been like if they had married as her father once wished for; he was certainly infuriate her in an entire different way than Viserys currently infuriated her too often.
“In other circumstances, I would not have become queen at all.” Aemma blurted out before she could think better of it.
“Oh I know, my Queen.” He said grinning wider. “You would have become the Lady of Winterfell instead.”
“So you know about that, huh?” She chuckled again and felt herself blush harder.
Lord Stark simply nodded and gave an actual smile, a surprisingly soft smile on his rugged but handsome face. Aemma smiled bashfully and tried to stand so she could continue to make her rounds around the room, this odd moment being a bit too much of her frayed pregnancy moods. Lord Stark quickly stood up before she could and helped her up.
“Thank you, my Lord.” She was back to use her queenly polite tone. “Please, enjoy your evening.”
“I hope we can talk more some other time, my Queen, to reminisce about childhood perhaps.” He suggested just as politely.
“Of course.” She agreed smiling enthusiastically, liking the idea of having someone from her time in the Eyrie to talk to. “You would have to stick around for a bit longer though.”
“Will do, Your Grace.” Lord Stark winked at her.
Aemma almost giggled before walking away as fast as she could, her cheeks still hot, their interaction quite disturbing but not entirely unpleasant. Composing her unbecoming flustered state as best she could, Aemma made her way towards the table where the lords and ladies of the Westerlands were, a more dreadful prospect actually, and asked a servant to fetch Rhaenyra for her. The less time spent with the pompous Lannisters and the other lords the better.
As soon as Rhaenyra arrived beside her, Aemma excused herself most politely and then promptly took her daughter to go meet her Arryn relatives; her girl was being as gracious as ever and delighting everyone in her path with her pretty smiles and soft spoken nature.
Lady Jeyne was just three years older than Rhaenyra but the great burden upon her shoulders made her more mature by far, so the two were cordial with each other but did not become friends as Aemma had wished for. Fortunately Rhaenyra was quite taken with her other three cousins, her sister Amanda’s twins who were just a couple years older than Rhaenyra and even her late brother Rickard’s teenage daughter.
Despite many wishing Rickard’s son to inherit the Vale instead of Jeyne, Aemma was glad that had not been the case, the boy was a soft hearted and sensitive as her sweet brother had been. It was no surprise that the real trouble came from their oldest sister Elys and her son Arnold, but Amanda had been as reasonable and wiser as the few memories Aemma had of her: instead of succumbing to the machinations of men and a bitter sister, Amanda Arryn was steadfast in making sure Jeyne, the only surviving child of their older brother and former Lord of the Vale, was the one to inherit all the tittles and lands of their family.
Something else the queen’s never-ending pregnancies never allowed her was to be there to her family in their times of need, all she could do was read from Amanda about the goings and troubles of the Vale and send her words of support.
While sitting along with her niece, her own cousins and other Vale people, Aemma delighted in watching Rhaenyra revel in the companionship of people her own age, her Velaryon and Arryn cousins as well as Lord Stark only son who was quite the charming young lad; it was so rare for her girl to experience such things. Though as soon as Daemon walked into the room, beyond late and still wearing his armor and gold cloak, no one else could hold onto to Rhaenyra’s attention but her uncle.
When things became too rambunctious with the free flowing of wine and ale, the queen walked back to the royal high table and sat by the king’s side.
“You looked so very happy, my love, to be with your family.” Viserys commented bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.
“I am truly glad some of them could come.” Aemma smiled and then caressed the fur line of his clothes, she also had been able to convince her husband to done blue colors for her. “Sadly Amanda had to stay behind in Jeyne’s place and possibly won’t be able to come to the tournament either.”
“Perhaps I can arrange something with the council. Find someone trustworthy to handle the Vale affairs while both its ladies are here for their queen.” He suggested, all too eager to give anything she wished to see those happy smiles of her; his wife was almost glowing from such joy to spend time with her family.
“Let’s talk with Jeyne better tomorrow, maybe there can be a solution indeed.” Aemma said pensively; though still a tricky time for the Arryns she did desperately wanted to see her sister.
“It’s also a wonder to see our girl so happy as well, surrounded by other kids.”
“Aye.” She surreptitiously looked over to Lord Stark and his son, then to Rhaenyra talking her uncle’s ear off; even if the queen despised to breach that dreadful topic this soon in her darling’s life, she would rather get ahead of Viserys’ foolishness and his court of leeches. “Lord Stark’s son is a nice and decent boy, Rhaenyra enjoyed his company quite well. Perhaps we can invite than to visit more and see if a betrothal in the future could be a possibility.”
“Aemma…” Viserys looked taken aback by her suggestion, surprised and affronted. “She just turned eight, it’s way too soon for such talks.”
“I’m not saying they should betroth and marry tomorrow, Viserys. But House Stark would be a great prospect of marriage to Rhaenyra. Since she can’t wait for a brother that might not come…”
“We will have a son, Aemma.”
“And if we do, our daughter can’t simply waste away while waiting until he’s old enough to marry.” Aemma glared at her husband with the same intensity he was looking at her. “It will be better for her to help the realm and our family by marrying into the right house. Preferably a truly loyal house to the crown.”
“I want my daughter to be Queen.” Viserys said, raising his chin in the same petulant manner Rhaenyra liked to do.
“If that is what you wanted then you would have made her your heir already, Viserys.” She retorted coldly, the ‘and spared me this endless suffering of failing pregnancies’ went unsaid and hanged heavy between them. “Now excuse me, my king, it’s time Rhaenyra is put to bed.”
Aemma stood up and walked to where Daemon and Rhaenyra were, not bothering saying her goodbyes to anyone, mood thoroughly darkened and soured, watching everyone drink and laugh and be happy did not bring the same kind of joy her husband and daughter had from these things. Especially after trying to make her husband see reason for the hundredth time.
To Aemma her nameday meant pain and suffering because while she was born and lived, her mother died to bring her into the world; she always thought that maybe that was the reason why she was as cursed as she was when it came to childbearing. As well as a selfish man for a husband.
“Come, darling, it’s time for bed.” Aemma said with a strained smile not to cause Rhaenyra or anyone looking at them suspicions about her mood.
“But muña is still early.” Rhaenyra whined and leaned further into her uncle’s chest, fingers playing with bother her and his rings.
“Go on, little love, I’m sure Baela is missing her sleep companion.” Daemon said with a kiss to her forehead; he did see the heated conversation his brother and cousin were having and he knew both of them well enough by now to see through the royal masks they put on. “I’ll be leaving too. There’s still some City Watch matters for me to deal with this night.”
“Fine.” She said with a pout and then turned to give Daemon a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, kepus.”
“Sweet dreams, princess.”
“Don’t be a stranger, cousin.” Aemma said with a genuine grin for him, although sad, before she and Rhaenyra left the throne room hand in hand.
The queen put a hand on her belly while walking the hallways of the castle, feeling her child within kick, alive and well. However dread still filled her heart each new dawn closer to the birth date and that terribly sense of foreboding always lingered at the edges of her mind.
A warning she was unable to read. A bad omen heralding more suffering to her family.
Notes:
So, what's your thoughts?!?!?!?? Leave kudos&comments to let me know if you liked it and what you think of it!!
It's very much welcome and good incentive for inspiration 🤗
Where to start on an almost 15k words worth of chapter! this one got away from me for real this time 🤭
As you saw, I tried to focus most of the POV on Aemma since her time is almost up *crying at the club💔* and i haven't dived too deep into her thoughts&experiences yet.
And as we know from irl the power of a woman's and a mother's sixth sense is no joke 🫣
I also tried to finally drag the plot a bit more forward, introducing more new characters, expanding on some history aspects of said characters and houses, and of course hints to what is to come and go down in future chapters, hopefully I did a passable job😁Btw last chapter was somewhere in April (cause my babe Rhae is an Aries alright), this chapter is somewhere in the beginning of July (cause I think very fitting for Aemma to be a cancer), so if my math isn't wrong the pregnancy must be in the final 7th month/beginning of 8th month. If the math is wrong just roll w it okay, I suck with numbers hahahahhahahahah
Fun fact: While writing about and through Aemma's thoughts, an entire new AU idea popped in my head which is why suddenly the Starks became a factor this early on in the story 😅 I quite liked the AU idea and so I put that little what if Aemma had married someone else instead of Viserys there. House Stark seemed reasonable enough considering their somewhat of a close relation to the Val
It was quite fun to write this part so sudden and out of nowhere, coming up with the words basically on the spot since it was not previously planned at all!
Maybe sometime in the future I might work on it but for I'll try to get through this one first 😉In book canon both Rickon and Cregan are actually pretty young, no idea why the show put an actor that old if later they would say Cregan was more in age with Jace than Rhaenyra but anyways... I landed somewhere in the middle to fit better my storyline. Rickon ended up basically a OC tbh and I adore him, though we probably wont see much of him, Cregan will be quite prominent
Don't panic folks, there wont be anything between him and Rhaenyra! He will be an ally in some other manner 🫣Anyways... Since book canon doesnt really give that much information about the Arryn treeline of this time beyond names and other small details, I mixed things up a bit and also created a few OCs as future friends and allies to Rhaenyra.
It sounded nice to make Elys the mother of the man who tried to usurp Jeyne gods know how many times since canon does tell us she clashed badly with Aemma's mother and it sounds as if it was for no good reason other disliking and wanting to be mean to Daella 🤷🏾♀️ Aemma other sister will be a love though!Idk about you by I totally desliked the way the screenwriters/directors/etc made that City Watch scene, it seemed as if Daemon and his men were going crazy on absolute everyone with no discrimination. Beating, cutting, killing, etc criminal or innocent.
To me it felt very not in character w book Daemon tbh. And also the fact there was no real built up to it, no showing/commenting how exactly did he know who was a criminal or not, just increased the sense he was brutalizing the city at his whim 🙄
Without context, just as a random scene, it was a very good shot one, the visuals and music really nice but not in the grand scheme of things
So i tried to make it more in character and give some context to the hows 😁I guess that's all... Any doubts, question and thoughts drop a comment for us to talk more 😉
Characters' ages at this point in the story:
Viserys - 28
Aemma - 23
Daemon - 24
Rhaenyra - 8
Baela - 7 months (do baby this age start to crawl and have strong legs enough to walk w guidance I have no idea but this baby does alright)
Otto - 35
Alicent - 17
OC Camellia - 16
Jeyne Arryn - 11
Rickon Stark - 33
Cregan Stark - 8For more details about the Arryn and Stark family, head to the fic's tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virgogeminiposts
If you like/are interested in the visuals for this fic, here's the links:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/
Mysaria's dress: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626577999712126/
Aemma&Rhaenyra feast gowns: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626577999706460/ (this two mother&daughter dresses but make them blue okay)
Aemma - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/aemma-arryn-targaryen/
Rhaenyra - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/
Daemon - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/daemon-targaryen/
Viserys - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/viserys-targaryen/
See you in the next one babies 😘❣️
Chapter 14: Chapter Thirteen: 105 AC Part V - The Heir's Tournament
Notes:
Heya
Despite my intentions, this is not going to be the final part of year 105AC 🤡 chapter was almost at 15k and there's still a bit ways to go so I decided to divide the rest in another chapter to finally be the final part 😅 Sorry to drag this out!!
Anyways...
Though the title is for the tourney there ain't much of it because I suck at it hahahahhhaha But some other more interesting things going on 🫣
Sorry also for any glaring mistakes, grammatical or otherwise, besides English not being my native tongue I'd to write some parts of the chapter and now post it from my mobile phone which is a total nightmare
High Valyrian is in bold-italic
See you in the end notes
Have a fun reading 😘
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra laughed in pure joy while soaring through a blue-clear sky on her golden girl.
Syrax started growing faster and faster now that Rhaenyra took her to the skies almost daily and she was back to hunt in the wild along with Caraxes. Something Uncle Daemon taught her was a sure way to accelerate and improve the growing of a dragon, to let them roam free and do what dragons were meant to. Her golden girl is now big enough that was able to already fly high above the clouds, Rhaenyra even had to commission a new bigger saddle just a moon past.
Those hours she stole away to fly on her dragon were one of the best moments of her day since life a court was harder and more tiring every day. Beside her new duty as cupbearer to her father, Rhaenyra was taking on a few of the queen’s duties since her muña was more often than not too exhausted to do much beyond walk a few paces around her own bedroom. Something she knew her muña fought for to have her learn and practice now that she was old enough. And with so many lords and ladies and their families filling the Red Keep there was no shortage of things for Rhaenyra to do.
Thankfully Princess Rhaenys had stayed after her muña’s nameday and was helping both of them whenever she could; for the first time Rhaenyra thought what a good queen she would have made if the Old King had not chosen her father instead. Also Rhaenyra now had a good number of new friends to accompany her around and help distract her or even give wise inputs when she needed. Kids her own age or just a mere few years older.
There was her cousin Laena, her favorite right after little Baela of course, that was as knowledgeable on certain matters as her mother. Her cousin Jeyne also stayed after the feast and for the upcoming tournament, and although she preferred the company of her muña, whenever Rhaenyra needed an important input on a matter or another Jeyne would always make time for her as well.
Rhaenyra also likes to have her other cousins around: Laenor who now could accompany her on the skies too; her late uncle Rickard’s daughter, Maya who she loved to chat about fashion with and her aunt’s Amanda twins, Amara and Rodrik. There was also Lord Stark’s son, both of them also having stayed for the upcoming tourney, Cregan who although a bit broody sometimes was a fun company. And Lord Strong’s older daughter, Lucile, finally had the courage to attempt a friendship with the princess, and she was a very nice and amicable girl.
Some other lords’ sons and daughters would also approach Rhaenyra whenever she was out in the gardens, some she liked enough as well but others were dreadful to have around.
Even if she told her father she would be content to have only Laena, Rhaenyra would have to find a way to make him agree to let her other cousins and Lord Strong’s daughter stay to become her permanent companions too.
She had never before had girls around her to be friends, genuine and kind ones who actually cared for her and wanted to be her friends, girls that were also blood family too; it was a wonderful experience and she did not want to go back to be alone again. It would still be years yet before Baela was old enough and Rhaenyra felt the need for friends and company right now. Loneliness was a terrible feeling.
Feeling a tug at her mind, Syrax way of letting her know she was tired, Rhaenyra maneuverered her golden girl down to Kings Landing, back to the Dragonpit. The keepers were already awaiting for them on the back entrance to the caves, as well as a wheelhouse to take her back to the keep; her sworn shield Ser Harrold was still patiently waiting her since he brought her earlier.
Rhaenyra swiftly dismounted her girl, already more than used with the routine of a dragonrider, and lovingly patted her scaled neck making Syrax croon in appreciation.
“Be sure to give the fattest meal for my golden girl, keeper Cassar.” She commanded the oldest dragonkeeper, one of the new ones by his side being taught their duties.
“It will be done, Your Highness.” The keeper said with a bow of respect.
With a last smile to her girl, Rhaenyra turned and made her way towards the wheelhouse where Laena unsurprisingly had come with to wait for her. Her cousin adored dragons almost as much as herself and took any opportunity possible to at least have a glimpse of them; Rhaenyra was thankful she was the one now coming to get her instead of Lady Alicent. Her muña’s lady was more than terrified of dragons but to Rhaenyra’s puzzlement she still would accompany her to the pit at any chance before Laena promptly took her place.
Not that she disliked Lady Alicent but for an older girl, a young lady already, she was a total bore and sometimes could only talk about her precious Seven or the septas lessons. Her cousin Maya was a way more fun young lady than Alicent.
“Welcome back, Princess.” Ser Harrold greeted her in his heavy western accent when she passed by his horse, with an almost smug grin. “I trust your ride was pleasant.”
“Try not to look too relieved, my good Ser.” She retorted in a joking tone.
“I am relieved, Your Grace.” He affirmed still wearing a grin. “Every time that golden beast brings you back unspoiled, it saves my head from a spike.”
Rhaenyra let out a giggle, she always adored Ser Harrold and his good humor and grandfatherly care of her, he had always being around for as long as she could remember; sometimes she did almost felt like he was somewhat of a grandfather since her papa Baelon had passed. Rhaenyra’s smile widened when she approached the carriage and Laena.
“Syrax is growing quickly.” Her cousin said with a admiring look observing the dragonkeepers guide Syrax into the pit. “She will soon be as large as Seasmoke is now.”
“Large enough to saddle two.” She said suggestively, not for the first time and as always Laena smiled brightly at her.
“I cannot wait, cousin.” Laena said while the two entered the wheelhouse and settled on the plush seats. “Laenor became mean ever since he got his own dragon and says he won’t give me a ride with him. And mother is always too busy.”
“I’m sure a good few words from Lord Corlys would make him change his mind.”
The two of them giggled at that and then delved into some court gossip, as well as planning for some entertainment with the other kids later in the afternoon, while the wheelhouse made the track back to the keep.
From how high the sun already was and the amount of people buzzing around the castle, Rhaenyra was sure she was running late for the council meeting of that morning. Still instead of walking towards the small council chambers, she instead led Laena towards the royal quarters and directly to the Queen's chambers.
“Rhaenyra.” Her muña smiled as soon as she entered the antechamber but then slightly scrunched her nose upon seeing her in riding leathers. “You know I don’t like you to go flying alone while I’m in this condition.”
“You don’t like me to go flying while you’re in any condition.” Rhaenyra retorted with a small grin. “Besides, Uncle Daemon is never here anymore to go with me.”
“Well, but Rhaenys and Laenor are. I’m sure they would love to accompany you.”
“Mother and Laenor were busy this morning, Your Grace.” Laena said from beside her.
“Good morrow, Laena.” Aemma greeted with another soft smile. “I hope they were not busy with anything troublesome.”
“Your Grace.” Laena repeated in greeting, this time doing a small courtesy to Rhaenyra’s amusement. “She was teaching him how to best respond to some letters father received from Driftmark. I better go, she is sure to have something for me to do as well.”
“Tell her to come visit me when she has some time. My sister and I are having tea this afternoon, I would love her company as well if she can make the time.”
“Of course, Your Grace, I’ll tell her.” Laena readily agreed and then gave a squeeze to Rhaenyra’s shoulder.
“Come find me when you’re done with the council. We still have to finish that book the septa gave us to study.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Rhaenyra agreed with disgruntlement, not in the mood for more of the septa’s boring books. “Then we are eating cakes with the others.”
“I’ll let them know.” Laena said and the two smiled conspiratorially, then she gave another courtesy and left.
“Did you sleep?” Rhaenyra asked walking to where her muña was lounging on a chaise, a smile on her face at seeing her and Laena interact.
“I slept.” Aemma answered, fanning herself even though she was by the grand window, the warm weather only increasing her constant high temperature due the pregnancy.
“How long?”
“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.” She retorted in a admonishing tone, not liking her eight year old taking on the burden to worry and care for her. That was supposed to be her role, not Rhaenyra’s.
“Well here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe.” Rhaenyra said loudly and pointedly looked around with disapproval, Maester Mellos close enough to hear but pretending not to, and the maids organizing the room; none paying too much attention to her muña if the babe was not involved. “Someone has to attend to you.”
“Not you, my darling. You already have enough to do while still being just a child, I will not burden will further.”
“Muña, you will never be a burden. Of course I worry for you, you’re my mother and I love you. Children must look after their parents too if needed.”
“My darling girl.” Aemma whispered feeling her throat constrict, her moods still wildly emotional.
Aemma beckoned her daughter to go sit between her spread legs and Rhaenyra eagerly went, always happy to be close to her muña, she sat down being careful not to lean too much into that huge babe belly.
“This discomfort is how we serve the realm, Rhaenyra.” The queen, feeling it was time to impart that heavy and awful wisdom on her girl. “You too will lie in this bed in a few years.”
“I’d rather serve the realm as a knight and ride to battle and glory.” Rhaenyra said in a low voice, more than dreading the prospect of going through the same hardships of pregnancy she grew up watching her muña go through.
“We have royal wombs, you and I, my darling. The childbed is our battlefield.” Aemma said and gave a kiss to her temple, switching to High Valyrian before continuing “I wish it was not so but this is our reality… We must learn to face it with a stiff lip”
Rhaenyra looked up at her muña, fear in her eyes of what was to come in just a few more years, of what her life would turn into too. A womb to bleed children after children for an absent husband.
“Promise me not to be afraid, Rhaenyra.” She asked switching again to their ancestral tongue, her High Valyrian never sounding as surer than at that moment. “I know you grew up seeing me like this, seeing me suffer and I’m sorry for that… But this is not to be your fate, my love. Your life will be better than mine.”
“You promise, muña?”
“Your life will be a hundred times brighter than mine was, my love. I know it.” Aemma replied with utter conviction. “But you must always be brave and face life without fears… Fight with all your strengths. So promise me to never be afraid, not of the birthing bed, not of anything else.” She said feeling tears blur her vision. “Promise me to always fight and never give up on your dreams, your wants and wishes. Promise me to always be my brave girl, Rhaenyra.”
“I promise, muña.” Rhaenyra promised with tears in her eyes also, grateful for her mother’s words. “I will always be brave for you.”
“Thank you, my love.” She smiled wide, a unknown weight lifting from her shoulders. “You are late for the council already so go take a bath before you go. You stink of dragon.”
“Alright, alright.” Rhaenyra shrugged but smiled too and then stood up; giving a kiss to her muña’s forehead she whispered. “I love you muña.”
“I love you, my darling, always.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra ran to the council chambers after stopping by her room, more than late by now, she did not even bath just changed clothes and would still arrive almost half way through the meeting. Though she knew her kepa would not really mind, he had never before so far, his councilmen were another matter, almost all of them would give her scathing stares whenever she arrived late. As if they did not know how to pour their own wine.
“…So, I said to him “Well, I believe you might be looking up the wrong end.” Her father was finishing some joke when the Kingsguard opened the doors for her. “Rhaenyra, you’re late.” He said when she walked towards him. “The King’s cupbearer must not be late. Leaves people wanting for cups.”
“I was visiting mother.” Rhaenyra explained, the perfect excuse she knew would make her father forget the misstep, and gave him a kiss to the cheek.
“On Dragonback?” Viserys asked after sniffing at her.
Rhaenyra simply smiled impishly and then went to the wine cart to start her job in pouring wine to the councilmen. Although she bemoaned to be made a servant by grown man very much capable of pouring their own wine, she did not complain and took on the duty with grace for that opportunity to be inside the small council chambers was too good to pass. In just a matter of a few moons, Rhaenyra had already learned so much by listening to the men prattle endlessly about the many different matters of the realm.
She did not understand why her father disliked those meetings so, she would not mind if there was one everyday instead of just a few times a week whenever there was a necessity for it. Being there in the council certainly allowed her to learn way more than the dull incessant chatter of the septas, and to learn actual important and impactful things.
By now, Rhaenyra already knew every one of the lords’ present favoured wines, the cart full with variety, and she would come and go changing flagons to pour the right wine to the right councilman. At least that made them stare dissatisfied at her less than the usual.
“My lords.” Lord Corlys said after the king and his men stopped laughing at another one of his terrible jokes. “The growing alliance among the Free Cities has taken to styling itself ‘the Triarchy’. They have amassed on Bloodstone and are presently ridding the Stepstones of its pirate infestation.” He explained opening a map on the table to show where exactly this Triarchy was amassing.
Rhaenyra perked at that, it’s been a while that the meetings had no interesting topics discussed but for the upcoming tournament, which she had not much interest in.
“Well, that sounds suspiciously like good news, Lord Corly.” Her kepa said still in his good naturedly and happy demeanour.
“A man called Craghas Drahar has styled himself the prince-admiral of this Triarchy.” Lord Corlys added, the lack of tittles when addressing her father most of the time never passes unnoticed by her. “They call him ‘The Crabfeeder’ due to his inventive methods of punishing his enemies.”
“And are we meant to weep for dead pirates?” The king questioned almost confused by whatever the issue was supposed to be but also more seriously, disliking the turn the conversation took and not wanting gruesome talks when his young daughter was around to overhear.
“No, Your Grace.” Lord Corlys said with resignation before sitting back on his chair, the way he always spoke her father’s tittle with a great lack of respect also never went unnoticed by her.
“Your Grace.” Lord Beesbury, the only one who always seemed pleased to have her around during meetings, took his turn to bring his own concerns forth. “At Prince Daemon’s urging, the crown has continuously invested significant capital in the training and equipping of his City Watch for many moons now” He said choosing his words carefully not to offend either Targaryen. “I thought you might urge your brother to fill his seat on the council and provide us with assessments of his workings as Commander of the Watch.”
“Mm.” Her kepa hummed, more interesting in eating the appetizers on the plate in front of him than in what Lord Beesbury had spoken about. “Don’t we know Daemon has been much distracted by his present task? And that his thoughts and energies are thoroughly occupied by it?”
‘Thoroughly occupied by it indeed’ Rhaenyra thought bitterly, it has been a whole moon since the last time she saw her uncle.
“Well, one would hope so considering the associated costs.” Lord Beesbury jested but not really amused by the amount of coin spent for the prince’s demands.
“Then let us consider the crown’s gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury.” The king said with finality and Rhaenyra fought a grimace over his callousness when it came to Uncle Daemon.
“I would urge that you not allow this Triarchy much latitude in the Stepstones, Your Grace.” Lord Corlys brought up that matter again, clearly something important to him. “If those shipping lanes should fall, it will beggar our ports.”
“The crown has heard your report, Lord Corlys, and takes it under advisement.” The Lord Hand said dismissively; what was important to the other council members normally was not deemed important by the Hand, Rhaenyra quickly learned, and as it has often been the case lately he was quick to bring a matter that her father liked much better to talk about. “Shall we discuss the Heir’s Tournament, Your Grace?”
“I would be delighted.” Her father said with enthusiasm.
This time Rhaenyra did grimace, Lord Corlys’ issue sounded much more important and an interesting subject to discuss and a better time spent for the meeting than a mere tournament. But alas she also learned quickly her father preferred to talk about trivial matters than the actual matters of the realm.
“Will the maesters’ name day prediction hold, Grandmaester?” Viserys questioned.
“You must understand that these things are mere estimations, my King, but we all have been poring over the moon charts, and we feel that our forecast is as accurate as it can be.” The Grandmaester Rucinter answered.
“The cost of the tournament is not negligible. Perhaps we might delay until the child is in hand?” Lord Beesbury tried not for the first time to delay the tourney, like many people he also worried if the queen would be able to deliver a healthy enough child this time around.
“Most of the lords and knights are either already here or on their way to Kings Landing. To turn them back now…” Lord Strong said, one of the least talkative member of her father’s council she had noticed but he was quite a wise one, sometimes it seemed to her he was wiser than even the Lord Hand.
“The tourney will take the better part of a week. Before the games are over my son will be born and the whole realm will celebrate.” Her father said proudly.
“We have no way of predicting the sex of the child.” Grandmaester Rucinter repeated for what felt like the hundredth time to Rhaenyra, the old man always cautious in confirming if the child would be boy or girl but her father never listened.
“Of course, no maester’s capable of rendering an opinion free of conditions, are they now?” The king asked with a tinge of irony. “There’s a boy in the Queen's belly. I know it. And my heir will soon put all this damnable hand-wringing to rest himself.”
Fortunately Rhaenyra had already turned to walk back to the wine cart, for his words hit and hurt her as it always did.
He was always so very proud whenever talking about a possible son, his happiest was when the queen would be pregnant with his so desired heir; her father talked as if he would only be truly happy and complete if he was to have a son. It was as if he did not already have a child, it was as if her existence made no difference to him.
Ever since becoming old enough to understand some things about life, Rhaenyra tried her best to ignore those disappointing and hurtful traits of her father because she knew he did love her. But this time, in this newest pregnancy which she could see and understand how much it hurt her muña, it was hard for Rhaenyra to ignore and not be resentful over it. Her father has her, the one child that was born healthy and lived for all these years, and yet she was not enough. Neither was her muña if he was willing to put her through this situation time and time again.
No matter what her muña told her, now Rhaenyra could understand enough to know that the life her muña lived was no life at all. And she wished she could have been enough for her father just so he would not keep forcing her muña through the same pain again and again. If only she was enough… But Rhaenyra now knew she was not and might not ever be enough for the King, for she was not a son and King Viserys only wished for a son.
--
After endless boring discussions over her father’s tournament, Rhaenyra going around twice more to refill the Lords’ cups, the meeting finally ended; the king in high spirits with how great the organization of the tourney was going. Seeing as her father and the Lord Hand decided to stay back a while longer, Rhaenyra quickly left the small council chambers along with the rest of the other lords.
“Lord Corlys.” Rhaenyra called for him in the corridor outside the chamber before he could leave somewhere else. “If you happen to see Laena, please tell her I’ll be waiting her for our lessons in the Godswood.”
“I’m headed to our apartments, Princess, she must be there with her mother and brother. You can come along if you want, we could all have an early lunch together” Lord Corlys offered with a smile.
“Thank you for offering.” She said politely as she was taught to do. “But I’m in need of some fresh air right now. Another time though.”
“Well then, I will pass your message along.”
“Thank you, my Lord, have a nice day.”
“Likewise, Princess.” Lord Corlys said and gave the slightest of bows to her before turning around to leave.
Rhaenyra walked the other way towards the gardens, stopping just once on her way there to ask one servant to go to the kitchens to order her favourite cakes, pudding and juice to be served for her; and asked a second servant to go fetch a nice blanket she could spread on the ground to lay on. She sat on one of the chairs by the outbuilding nearby the weirwood until the servant brought her requested blanket, spreading it out for her under the weirwood tree. Rhaenyra said her thanks to the woman with a soft polite smile, as she learned from observing her muña do.
Fortunately, the godswood was rarely visited nowadays, the courtiers preferring the other parts of the grand garden of the keep, so Rhaenyra could sprawl on the grass without much worries. Ser Harrold staying almost completely out of sight to give her some privacy and alone time.
Laena did not take long to arrive, a heavy tome in hand, but instead of them starting their reading they simply laid down to wait for the food Rhaenyra had ordered. Something she liked best about her cousin it was how perceptive of Rhaenyra’s moods and even wants she was, despite the two of them not having known each other for long. And Laena would always act accordingly not to upset her or even make worse whatever state Rhaenyra was in.
So right now they just shared a comfortable silence, Laena not attempting to intrude on whatever was bothering Rhaenyra, and simply enjoying the lazy moment to relax from their busy life.
When servants brought the requested food, organizing all the plates prettily in front of them, Rhaenyra almost pounced on the food once they were out of sight. She always liked to have food for comfort whenever she was upset or sad, it made her feel better emotionally at least.
Something she least liked about Laena though was how unlike she was from herself when it came to food, while Rhaenyra loved to gorge herself with food Laena just nibbled on the plates. Which was probably why she was such a slim girl while Rhaenyra remained with the pudginess of infancy. Not that Rhaenyra minded that at all. Unlike the rude septas and ladies who diminished her appetites and liked to criticize her weight when none of her family was close, Rhaenyra was very satisfied with herself and her body.
She was still just a child after all, she did not need to worry about such thing. Besides even with pudgy cheeks and body Rhaenyra was still the prettiest girl in the realm, the epitome of otherworldly Valyrian beauty. And she was sure she would only get prettier the older she grew so the sheep’s opinion made no difference to her.
After eating all that her stomach allowed, Laena just nibbling on some bread with honey and sipping the orange juice, Rhaenyra sighed in relief feeling lighter already. Laying her head on Laena’s lap, the two finally started on the book Septa Marlow told them to read.
Although the tome was written in Common, Laena read the chapters indicated by the septa in High Valyrian as they often would do, her voice soft in pronouncing the words and her slight different accent pleasant to the ears. It was not the same accent her muña or father had, nor was it like the High Valyrian from the dragonkeepers nor the way non Valyrian spoke the language. Rhaenyra assumed it had more to do with the Velaryons own way of speaking their shared ancestral language since Lord Corlys and Laenor spoke with the same accent.
“Did you read Nymeria’s chapter like we were supposed to?” Her cousin asked once she was done with the two chapters of another topic entirely. Nymeria’s story the septa had asked them to read individually so she could ask questions in their next study session.
“Of course, I read it.” Rhaenyra replied although her reading of the chapter could barely have been considered such.
“Well, let’s revise some parts anyways and ask and answer questions Septa Marlow may ask us.” Laena suggested.
“That was not what we were supposed to do, cousin.” She commented looking up at Laena with a mischievous smile.
“I won’t tell if you don’t, cousin.” She retorted mischievously too and then they giggled before Laena started the chapter. “Princess Nymeria led her rhoynar across the narrow sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. When they arrived on Westerosi soil and settled in Dorne, she burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running. Whom did Princess Nymeria take to husband once she settled in Dorne?”
“A man.” Rhaenyra shrugged, her attentions strayed after first sentence read and now her mind was wondering on other matters.
“What was his name?” Laena insisted.
“Lord Something.”
“If you answer with “Lord Something”, Septa Marlow will be furious.” Her cousin said with a grin tugging at her lips.
“She’s funny when she’s furious.” She commented and the two of them laughed at that.
“Are you always like this when you’re worried?” Laena asked more seriously, after a moment of silence.
“Like what?” Rhaenyra asked looking up at her with curiosity.
“Disagreeable.” She answered this time with a softer smile but Rhaenyra just shrugged. “Are you worried the King will overshadow you if your mother really births a son?”
“I only worry for my mother.” Rhaenyra said with honesty, anything else was inconsequential in the face of her mother's struggles with this pregnancy. “I hope my father finally gets his desired son.”
“You won’t mind him having a son then?”
“As long as I can recall it is all he’s ever wanted so yes, I hope he gets his son and leaves muña be.” She replied, that hurtful truth never failing to hurt a bit more whenever she thought about always seeing her father wish for a son and nothing more.
“Are you not worried about your position?” Laena kept on her questioning though not in an invasive kind of way, more out of curiosity.
“Why would I be?” Rhaenyra asked with a confused frown. “I only want to fly on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake.”
“Be serious, cousin.” She chuckled at her answer. Girls could never hope for such impossible dream.
“I never jest about cake.”
“I know that… But please you know you can be honest with me, speak freely. It stays between us cousins.” Laena tried to encourage her to talk about what bothered her so much but Rhaenyra was not in the mood.
“I am just the king’s daughter, Laena.” She said this time in a serious tone and then sat up. “I’m just a girl. I’m not the heir, my uncle is… I have no position to worry about.”
The space in her father’s heart had always been filled by his desire for a son so she did not need to worry about a boy replacing her in any regard when it came to her father. If she were to worry it would be about her muña’s and kepus love for her changing but Rhaenyra knew they would always love her the most no matter if a son was to be born.
“Well, at least you do have a dragon to fly across the Narrow Sea. I can only ever dream about it.” Laena said in a low tone, opening herself too since Rhaenyra rarely had any reservations in be genuine with her about her plights.
And it felt good to have someone finally care in listening to her, her parents and brother never truly did. Laena was also just a girl while Laenor was the heir. She held no true position beyond being a bargaining ship for her father to marry off, even if neither of her parents had said anything yet, Laena knew it could happen anytime.
“We can fly there together once Syrax is big enough.” Rhaenyra suggested brightening up over the idea, mind already imaging all the adventures they could have.
“It is a nice thought, cousin.” It was in times like that Laena would be reminded her cousin was only eight, still a child and very much sheltered from the true ways of life. And in times like these Laena also remembered herself was still just eleven, a child too so why not act like it when given the chance. “I would love that very much.”
“In the meantime, let’s go get the others and do something actually fun!” She exclaimed excitedly, forgetting for the moment any of those impertinent thoughts and feelings.
Laena smiled just as wide and closed the book with a heavy thud, discarding it aside uncarigly of its old pages. The two of them stood up and then took off hand in hand to search for their friends, it was too lovely a day to spend brooding and reading boring books, Rhaenyra would rather do something better.
To her surprise, when they reached the other side of the garden, her muña was walking through the gardens towards an improvised tent erected in a corner close to where the marigolds were; the queen’s favourite flower. Rhaenyra almost grimaced in discomfort in seeing her muña waddle on weak legs, belly so big that it seemed it could topple the queen over. Both Princess Rhaenys and aunt Amanda were walking closely by her side, her aunt resting a hand on her muña’s arm in a steady way.
“Good, we won’t have to walk much.” Laena said gesturing to the others trailing behind the older woman.
They ran to them and Rhaenyra right away started fuzzing over her mother being out and about, walking the immense distance from Maegor’s holdfast to the gardens, the maesters surely did not allow that.
“Haven’t we talked about this already? No mothering, Rhaenyra.” Aemma said after sitting down on the chair, too many hands around her for support.
Rhaenyra just arched an eyebrow in her best impression of Uncle Daemon’s unimpressed face and knowing her muña was in good hands, she called the others to go sit on the grass underneath a tree for cover from the sun.
“She’s a good one, Aemma.” Amanda commented looking at where the kinds stopped to play. “You did a good job.”
“I barely did anything.” Aemma snorted in derision. “Most of her childhood I spent bedridden, leaving her to be raised by maids and servants.”
“Not your fault.” Her sister said with expression distorted in anger. “The king’s the one who should have done better.”
“Although I heartily agree let’s not talk of such matters.” Rhaenys intervened, looking around for any prying ears. “Even the trees and flowers have ears in this place.”
“True.” Aemma agreed, glad not to hear yet again her sister obvious dislike and anger towards Viserys. “You two brought me here to get some fresh air and relax, after all.”
“Aye. Some time outside will do you good, your masters are morons.” Amanda commented, she had been the one to insist the masters were crazy for forcing Aemma to stay locked away in her rooms all the time.
Aemma eagerly let he sister have some not so nice words with both Grandmaester Runciter and Master Mellos on her behalf, a week with Amanda around helping her in completely different ways than the maesters and disregarding everything they recommended had greatly improved Aemma's days with that hellish last stage of pregnancy.
“The Grandmaester should have been replaced ages ago.” Rhaenys said in agreement. “That man is older than half the people in this keep combined.”
“Maester Mellos is supposed to take his place and he is not much better.” Aemma scrunched her nose in distaste. “Old too and just as incompetent.”
“You should take up on Princess Rhaenys offer them. Let her bring those Essosi midwives to help you.” Her sister tried again to convince her of that idea but no matter how much Aemma wanted it she knew Viserys would not allow it.
“There’s no point anymore, I’ll be birthing this one any day now.”
“Well, they could at least assist during the birth. They are truly a gift when it comes to these matters.” Rhaenys added as well, her offer and worry heart-warming but unnecessary at this point.
“It’s fine. All will be well and before long Rhaenyra will have a new sibling.” Aemma said with a smile, forced and insincere.
“Hopefully a son so your husband can finally leave you alone.” Amanda said.
“He might not, I’m afraid.” Her cousin pensively looked at a flower. “Aemma is still young. He and his men might want her to have more children to secure the throne...”
“Especially if this time I’m successful in birthing a healthy babe... Aye, I know.” Aemma gulped down a sudden wish to cry, the thought of more pregnancies almost making her physically ill.
“You must speak with your husband, sister.” Amanda said taking her hand in hers, voice with a hint of desperation. “You can’t keep going on like this.”
“It is my duty as wife and queen, Amanda, it’s the burden I must bear.”
“Not if it means this might kill you.” She finally said the words no one dared speak, no matter how obvious it was. “Rhaenyra needs her mother.”
Aemma looked away from her sister intense blue eyes, her throat constricting. Her eyes instinctively landed on her darling girl, all vibrant smiles while enjoying her childhood innocently unaware of the bad and the dark of life.
“At least talk with Viserys, cousin.” Rhaenys said in a softer voice than her usual stern tone. “It wouldn’t hurt to try. He may be stubborn but Viserys is not unreasonable.”
“Years ago he wasn’t, perhaps. But he is not that man either of us used to know anymore.” Aemma looked back to the women on the table with her, an almost dead look in her eyes that alarmed them. “He will not listen to me, he never does… You are right though, it won’t hurt to try. For my daughter.”
As it had happen often lately, Rhaenys thought yet again how come things had turned this bad in the keep, with their family, in this short period Viserys was king, and she wondered how much worse he could still make things. She hoped their grandsire was regretting his decision from wherever he was.
“Have either of you thought of my proposition?” The queen asked totally changing the topic and her expression back to her normal soft look.
“I have sent a letter to both my husband and Maya’s mother.” Amanda answered, still holding her little sister’s hand, caressing it in soothing moves. “I’m sure neither of them will be opposed to the idea but they will want them home for a proper goodbye first before they can come to stay here.”
“Of course.” Aemma agreed in understanding; if both her nieces were to come live in court a more permanent basis, they would not only need to say proper goodbye to their family and friends back at the Eyrie but also pack their things properly. “I guess we can expect them until the end of the year?”
“A month at the least to get everything ready for them.” Her sister agreed.
“What about you and Lord Corlys, cousin?”
“Corlys was very excited about your proposal, of course.” Rhaenys answered with a frown, her husband eagerness to insert himself in this vipers’ nest always worried and stressed her. Although she knew it was a necessary evil. “I’m still undecided if I want to part with my Laena. Especially if it means she will be living with too many snakes.”
Aemma understood the sentiment, deeply, but her own daughter’s happiness was paramount so she would have to make Rhaenys bend to the idea. Before she could say something, one of the Grandmaester’s acolytes approached them with a blessed still sealed letter bearing Lord Redford's seal.
“A letter arrived for you, Lady Amanda, from the Eyrie.” The young man said delivering the letter to her sister and then bowing to them before scurrying off.
Aemma observed her sister break the seal of the letter and open it to read. Ever since arriving almost a week ago, Amanda had not received any missives from her husband, who had burdened himself in leaving his own castle and household to stay on Amanda’s place overseeing the Vale affairs while both Jeyne and her were away. The way her sister’s expression morphed from angered to unsettled and utterly worried, told Aemma whatever word Lord Redford finally sent was not good.
“What is it?” She asked, a sinking feeling settling in her gut.
“My husband. He says that Elys has arrived on the Eyrie just a day after I left.” Amanda answered, eyes still glued to the words on parchment. “All his attempts to make her leave failed so he decided was time to let us know.”
“Wasn’t Lady Elys supposed to be exiled to Gulltown?” Rhaenys asked interest piquing up.
“Aye.” Her sister replied crumpling the letter angrily. “She and Arnold, as well as their allies were only supposed to set foot on the Eyrie if summoned by either me or Jeyne herself.”
“Awfully convenient of her to arrive when neither of you are there.” Rhaenys commented.
“What could she possibly be plotting now?”
“I don’t know.” Amanda said with a sigh and then looked apologetically at her little sister. “But I am afraid Jeyne and I will have to hurry back to the Eyrie.”
“Oh.” Was all Aemma could react, heart dropping at that.
“I’m so sorry, sister. I wish I could stay and be here with you for the birthing this time.” Her sister grabbed her hand again and squeezed, eyes clouded with sadness.
“Don’t worry about it.” Aemma was able to say without bursting into tears, voice not trembling as she expected it would; she had been playing the game of pretending for too long. “Though there probably won’t be any more births from me, there certainly will be plenty of other tourneys for you to come visit me.”
“Or you can come to the Eyrie after this one is out.” Amanda suggested hopeful, wanting nothing more than to take her sister away from this poised castle and city and people. “You and Rhaenyra will always be welcome there. It will always be your home, I hope you know that.”
Aemma lower lip wobbled slightly when she tried to smile, her sister's words making her throat constrict with emotions and heart wishing nothing more than to do just that.
“That would be wonderful for you indeed, Aemma.” Rhaenys readily agreed, she knew from personal experience how staying away from Kings Landing did wonders to one’s mind and body. “Some fresh new air away from this vipers’ nest will do you good.”
“Oh I’m not sure if that would be possible.” She said in a sad voice but tried to sound less bothered with the usual excuses she was too used to by now. “The duties of a queen are too much and too heavy to be left unattended."
“None of that.” Amanda bristled. “I’m sure King Viserys can handle this ugly castle and even uglier people for a couple of weeks if you and Rhaenyra left.”
“I don’t know about that.” Aemma said honestly, unsure if her husband could ever handle any of his kingly duties as a king should, not entirely relying on others all the time.
“Well, I’ll be sure to personally write to Rhaenyra and ask her to bring you to us on that dragon of hers.”
“That’s a thought.” Rhaenys said and the three of them laughed.
“Well, let me get Jeyne so we can organize things as fast as possible.” Amanda stood up and gave a gentle caress to Aemma’s cheek. “I’ll come see you before we depart.”
Aemma just smiled and watched her sister walk to where the kids were lazily sprawled on the grass, uncaring of the onlookers, and discreetly whisper to their niece. For the confused look on the young lady’s face, Amanda had not disclosed the news yet but must have hinted at something bad since Jeyne was fast to stand and follow Amanda back into the keep.
The queen kept her eyes on the remaining kids, especially her sweet girl, they looked confused as well for a moment but quickly returned to whatever they were talking; Rhaenyra presiding over the interaction as if a queen in court which made Aemma smile amused.
“It is convenient Elys decided to go back to the Eyrie now of all times to do that, isn’t it?” Aemma wondered out loud after a while.
“Aye. Perhaps their fortress is not as rid of her and her son’s allies as they think.” Rhaenys said while nibbling at a cookie from the trays served at the table. “Rats have an awful tendency to linger where they don’t belong.”
“Hopefully there was not much time for her to cause any serious trouble.” She hoped turning her attention back to her cousin, then picked up a lemon slice from atop a lemon cake.
“Considering the time it takes from the Vale to the capitol, she will have plenty of time.” Her cousin said in her usual brash honesty. “Let’s hope Lord Redford and the others can stand their ground for their Lady.”
“If only Daemon was here, I could ask him to take them on Caraxes. He knows the way there well.”
“Mm. Where is he by the way? I haven’t seen him since the day of your feast.”
“Well, according to Baela’s nursemaid…” Aemma started with a slight grimace, not happy she has been unable to get rid of the girl so far.
“That lover he loves flaunting around the keep?” Rhaenys interrupted her with a a expression of distaste of her own.
“Aye, that one. She said he left to Pentos this past week for a celebration there, he is great friends with their prince apparently.”
“Of course he is.” She snorted, unsurprised Daemon has made such friends across the Narrow Sea. Then an idea struck her. “If you want, I can offer your sister to take them. Meleys can make the trip just as fast and is used in taking passengers. I would be back in time for the tourney.”
“You would do that?” Aemma looked at her surprised, not at all expecting that offer.
“Sure.” Rhaenys shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t at the moment but it could certainly be in the future. “Lady Jeyne is the first ruling Lady of a paramount house, we must make sure to protect her position.”
“Oh cousin, I’ll be forever grateful if you could do my family this favour.” She said holding one of Rhaenys with both of hers, her eyes almost tearing up in deep gratitude. It was so rare for people to offer this kind of meaningful help to her.
“We are also family, cousin, of course I would do this for you.” Rhaenys gave a squeeze to the queen’s hands and a smile. If there was more to her offer, her sweet delicate cousin did not need to know.
“Thank you, Rhaenys. Truly.”
“No need to thank me.” She said standing up and gave a wink at Aemma. “I’ll go talk to them then.”
Aemma nodded and gave a trembling but genuine smile. Rhaenys was right that her sister by now had had too much time to do anything to again threaten Jeyne’s still fragile position in power. The faster they could get to the Eyrie the better. She was sure Daemon would have done that for her in a blink, despite his dislike of the Vale, but she was grateful and glad to know she could count on her other cousin to also help her when needed.
Feeling exhaustion slowly set in, Aemma gestured for Ser Steffon who had stayed at respectful distance from them, and her sworn shield promptly came to her side and helped her stand up. She went to where Rhaenyra and the other kids were.
“Hello, my darling.” She greeted standing beside her and giving a caress to her silver-gold locks. “Are you all have fun?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” They all answered in unison while Rhaenyra just looked up at her with a wide smile.
“Good, good.” She smiled at them, truly happy to see it. “It’s getting late though. Best you all go back to your apartments and have some time with your parents before tonight’s dinner.”
“There will be another dinner in the throne room?” Lord Stark’s son asked with a frown.
“I’m afraid so, dear.” Aemma answered disliking the prospect just as much, also not in the mood for yet another of Viserys' grand dinners with the many lords present in the Red Keep.
“Can we all sit together, muña?” Her daughter asked. “It will be more fun for us.”
“Of course, darling.” She readily agreed. “I’ll make sure a table is ready for you. Just make sure to talk with your parents first.”
They all nodded in agreement and stood up to walk to their respective apartments in the keep, Aemma and Rhaenyra doing the same walking hand in hand. Aemma let her daughter’s chatter distract her mind from the imminent departure of her sister, the topics amusingly banal but that kids their age made it sound as if were the most serious of matters. Instead of sending Rhaenyra to her own rooms, she walked them to her quarters, ordering the ever present maesters, acolytes and maids to leave so she could have some space alone with her daughter.
Aemma asked both Ser Steffon and Ser Harrold not to let anyone disturb them, except the king and her sister.
Mother and daughter sat on the huge bed of the queen sleeping room, relaxed and comfortable for the moment of privacy and peace. Aemma let Rhaenyra practice braiding on her hair, giving tips on how best to do it, she was no expert on the more tight Valyrian braids designed for dragon riding but Aemma had seen her grandmother do it enough times to learn how it was done. It was soothing to have her darling girl’s little fingers tangling on her hair, caressing her scalp with soft digits; the tightness of worry and sadness in her heart loosening up for those precious moments.
“I have chosen a dragon egg for Visenya.” Rhaenyra suddenly said, finishing her third attempt at properly doing a Valyrian braid.
“You did?” Aemma asked surprised, not even bothered at her insistence that the child was a girl, she hadn’t known anything about a dragon egg.
“Two days ago.” Rhaenys affirmed and then finally sat back down from her kneeling position. “I felt like it would be a good idea to do it. Father never goes to the Dragonpit and it wouldn’t be right if a dragonkeeper picked one instead so I did it first.”
“Oh darling, I’m sure your father would have asked you to do it once the babe was born.”
Rhaenyra just hummed and Aemma could read her doubt in that small sound, her girl’s lively expression changing into sombreness.
“I do hope it’s a boy.” She said while leaning into Aemma’s side and caressing her muña’s huge belly. “But if it’s a girl like me, can she be named Visenya? So she can be brave and strong, like you want me to be too.”
“Of course, my love.” Aemma said, closing her eyes in pain for hearing the sadness in her girl’s voice; the clear hurt and understanding behind her words about why she and any possible sister needed to be like that.
A girl was not enough, Rhaenyra nor Aemma weren’t ever enough much less important. That was the way of their world and it pained Aemma so much to know her darling and sweet girl was already having to learn that brutal lesson. Learning it by the acts of her own father no less. Although her gut feeling told her this child would not live much longer either, Aemma still hoped it would and it was a boy just so she could have the perfect excuse to leave that cursed place with her daughter and go somewhere peaceful.
Somewhere it could be just the two of them, somewhere she could fully and completely love her daughter. That was all Aemma ever wished for.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
They were all gathered in the outer courtyard of the Red Keep, saying their farewells to Lady Jeyne and Lady Amanda, as the sun was setting on the horizon; the last rays of light gave an orage-ish glow to the air around them making the moment seem somewhat ominous.
Rhaenyra looked up at her muña’s sad semblance beside her, the queen’s hand holding tight to hers while they waited both Jeyne and Amanda respectfully talk to the King and the few members of his council first before reaching them and the other three Arryns. It was really unfortunate her cousin and aunt had to go back to the Vale already, aunt Amanda having arrived just days before, but looking at her muña Rhaenyra knew that was being really hard for her most of all.
She hated to see her muña so sad but from what Jeyne had told her in their walk to the courtyard they really needed to hurry back to the Vale, usurpation always a surety whenever their aunt Elys or her son or both set foot on the Eyrie. They were so desperate and worried over those news that they even accepted Princess Rhaenys offer to take them by dragon; it took at least two days for the fastest raven to reach Kings Lading from the Vale if the weather was good so a lot could be happening there right now.
Rhaenyra never spared many thoughts to her Arryn family, the first time she even met them she was too young to even remember so now it felt as if she was meeting them for the first time. She had liked them very much so far and for the brief days she got to know her aunt Amanda she understood her muña’s longing for her sister; her other aunt though Rhaenyra already hated even without ever having met the dreadful woman just for the fact she was the cause of her mother’s sadness.
“Any tips for flying in those beasts of yours?” Her cousin asked in an attempt at joking despite her stiff shoulders and worried expression.
“Don’t fall, I guess.” Rhaenyra said with a grin and thankfully that made Jeyne laugh.
“Good bye cousin. I hope we see each other soon.” She said and then surprisingly gave Rhaenyra a hug.
In the weeks of their stay she had quickly learned that Jeyne unlike their other cousins was not overtly fond of too much contact, avoiding it altogether if she could. So Rhaenyra was glad she had become important enough for Jeyne to want to hug her and returned the hug with enthusiasm.
“If you do not visit soon, I’ll make sure to be the next one flying there.” Rhaenyra promised with a wide smile when they parted.
Jeyne smiled too before turning to say her goodbyes to their cousins, the younger ones looking about to cry.
“It was wonderful to spend this time with you sister.” Her aunt’s voice brought Rhaenyra’s attention back to her mother. “Even if just for a few days.”
“Aye, it was.” Her muña agreed with a strained smile, her hands on aunt Amanda’s hand slightly trembling Rhaenyra noted.
“We will see each other again soon, yes?” Her aunt said bringing a hand to her muña left cheek and caressing in the gentlest way Rhaenyra ever saw.
The two of them hugged, her aunt having to lean down a bit since she was taller than her muña as was most people, and Rhaenyra saw how tight her muña clung to her own sister, her knuckles turning white with the force. Once it was all done, Rhaenyra stood closer to her muña’s side and grabbed her hand so she would have something to hold on to while they watched Princess Rhaenys, aunt Amanda and Jeyne climb the wheelhouse that would take them to the Dragonpit.
Her muña clutched at her hand just as tight and Rhaenyra noticed how much she was holding herself to stay composed, not to cry right there; they should never allow the court to see them cry, her muña her thought her once and Rhaenyra was starting to understand why. People would take advantage of their weaknesses at the very first chance she knew now, she had observed enough and learned enough this past year. She still played the dumb little princess though as her armor, it was her best asset even against her own father and certainly against his councilmen.
When the carriage moved out of the gates of the keep, her muña tugged on her hand and then turned to take Amara’s hand too, Maya taking Rodrik’s and the four of them walked back inside the keep. Aemma took them to her private solar so they could have a moment of privacy before dinner but Rhaenyra did not feel like intruding in their moment, for some reason. Instead she asked her muña if she could go to the nursery to see little Baela who would have woken up from her afternoon nap by now.
After her muña acquiesce to it, Rhaenyra took off to the nursery with quick steps, the sad display between sisters tugged something at her heart and made her need to see Baela, to make sure she was still there. More than half a year had passed and by now in her heart she started to see Baela as more than just her cousin, but as the little sister fate never deemed to allow her muña to birth.
Rhaenyra arrived at the nursery just as Baela wetnurse was finished with feeding her, she dismissed her and that inconvenient red-haired girl, wanting to stay alone with Baela for once. She sat Baela on the plush rug in the middle of the chamber before going about gathering her favourite toys, half of them given by Uncle Daemon and her muña and the other half the toys that used to be Rhaenyra’s. To no one’s surprise, Baela’s favourite was a small replica of Caraxes, the same one Rhaenyra had also favoured once, but she also loved Vhagar’s replica.
It was sad, Rhaenyra always thought, how her cousin loved the dragon of the grandfather she would never get to meet. Their grandfather Rhaenyra herself barely remembered anymore.
She shook her head of that thought while getting Baela’s dragon egg to put on the fireplace, her little cousin watching her with interest brown eyes. Although the egg had not hatched after all these moons, it was still hot to the touch and thrumming with life and Rhaenyra hoped it would hatch soon. Uncle Daemon said it would hatch when the dragon within was ready, when she asked why was it taking so long, but she heard the worry in his voice making her worry more.
If that egg did not hatch, Rhaenyra was not sure she could convince her father a second time to give Baela another one so whenever possible she would put the egg on the fireplace in an attempt to help it.
“Any day now it will work, cousin.” Rhaenyra whispered to Baela when she sat in front of her.
The babygirl waved both small toy-dragons above her head while doing her babbling sounds, almost as if in agreement, and smiled that wide toothless smile Rhaenyra adored.
“Then we will fly together. You, me and Uncle Daemon.” She said picking Vhagar when Baela offered it to her. “Maybe I will even let my brother join us. We’ll be a complete family then.”
Baela wailed happily and Rhaenyra wondered if she could picture the beautiful image as well. A beautiful image Rhaenyra wished could become true because then that would mean her family was whole and happy as it once was when she was too young to fully remember. She had high hopes that would be true one day, one day very soon. A child could always dream of the impossible, couldn’t they?
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Aemma was soaking in the bath, trying to relax on the awful tepid water and wash the aches on her body away. The dinner had dragged on more than usual, her husband trying to compensate the tenseness in the air created by the apparent absence of the lords of the Vale with more music, and more food and more drink. Though that certainly worked with most of their guests, it did not with Aemma nor the lords of the North and the Riverlands. Their territories closer to the Vale than the rest so they needed to be mindful of any conflicts there that could possibly affect them in anyway.
Viserys as the King should also be mindful of it but she was certain the Lord Hand must have assured him all was fine, for her husband was not worried at the slightest and glad to just lively eat and drink and talk. Aemma wondered how their grandsire could have truly thought making Viserys king was really the best idea. Rhaenys would have been a way better choice, despite the too many cons stacked against her, and even Daemon could have made a better king.
She did not know why she had suddenly become so bitter and resentful with Viserys as of late, his behaviour regarding this pregnancy was no different than all the other times but there was just something nagging at the back of Aemma’s mind that made her unable to excuse or play blind to his ways as she often did. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact in this pregnancy it became obvious her sweet girl was not as oblivious to things as she once had been.
Aemma’s thoughts were interrupted by the door to her bathing room opening and closing.
“You spend more time in that bath than I do on the throne.” Viserys said amusedly, walking to the tub and kneeling beside it.
“This is the only place I can find comfort these days.” Aemma said not opening her eyes, if she did all her attempts at relaxing in that awful water would vanish for good.
“It’s tepid.” He commented with a frown after touching the water.
“It’s as warm as the maesters will allow.”
“Don’t they know dragons prefer heat?” Viserys joked.
“After this miserable pregnancy, I wouldn’t’ be surprised if I hatched an actual dragon.” That pregnancy has not been as bad as the others, most moons were great in fact but these last couple of moons had been truly disagreeable with her body.
“Then he will be loved and cherished.” He dipped his arm on the water again to pick her hand and bring it to his lips for a kiss.
“Rhaenyra has already declared that she is to have a sister.” Aemma commented finally opening her eyes, no relaxing would be happening this night clearly. Especially after she breached the subject she intended.
“Really?”
“She even named her.”
“Dare I ask?” Viserys chuckled not bothered by their daughter’s prediction, so certain he was that they were to have a son.
“Visenya.” Aemma replied, unsure if she like the name or not. There had never been another Visenya since the conqueror’s sister-wife, maybe a sign there shouldn’t be. “She told me this afternoon she chose a dragon’s egg for the cradle already. She said it reminded her of Vhagar.”
“Gods be good.” He chuckled again but glad to know his girl had picked a dragon for their future boy. “This family already has its Visenya.”
“Has there been any word from Daemon?” She asked curiously, though her husband was unaware Daemon went to Pentos yet maybe he would know if he arrived back in the city.
“Not since that brutal purge he thought wise to exact upon my city.” Viserys answered with pursed lips. “But I’m sure he will re-emerge for the tourney. He could never stay away from the lists.”
“The tourney to celebrate the firstborn son that we presently do not have.” Aemma said in a sarcastic tone. “You do understand nothing will cause this babe to grow a cock if it doesn’t already possess one?”
“This child is a boy, Aemma.”
She could not avoid to scoff at her husband’s words, she was too jaded by now by his endless predictions that turned out all to be pointless.
“I’m certain of it. I’ve never been more certain of anything.” He insisted squeezing her hand in his, a wild glint in his eyes Aemma never liked. “The dream, Aemma… It was clearer than a memory. Our son was born wearing Aegon’s crown and I heard the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shield and ringing swords. I placed our son upon the Iron Throne as the bells of the Grand Sept tolled and all the dragons roared as one.”
“Born wearing a crown?” She tried to joke, avoiding his expectant eyes and hopeful words, chuckling weakly. “Gods spare me, birth is unpleasant enough as it is”
Viserys kissed her hand again and smiled, no matter how unpleasant it would be all worth when they held their son, his heir, in their arms.
“This is the last time, Viserys.” Aemma said after a moment of silence, not daring to look at him just yet, gathering more courage to face his disappointment and even anger.
“Aemma…” He tried to say but did not really know what to say, her tone sending shivers up his spine and the expression of defeat and utter sadness tugging painfully at his heart.
“We’ve been married for twelve years and lost half that number of babies, Viserys.” She looked at him, fighting her tears, and turned in the tub so she could get closer. “I know it is my duty to provide you children and I’m sorry if I have failed you in that, I am.” Aemma rested her chin on his hand atop the edge of the tub, a pleading and apologetic look in her eyes. “And I know how young I still am, that my age is considered the prime years for pregnancies… But I’ve mourned all the dead children I possibly can, Viserys.”
Her husband did not say anything, they just stayed there staring at each other, his expression a mix of pain and anger and despondency that once could have made Aemma shrunk and acquiesce to his wishes. Not now. Not when she had cried over enough dead children. Not when another try could mean abandoning her daughter to vultures and snakes. She tried her best to express her hurt, her own disappointment, and her determination through her eyes even if she had doubts that would be enough to deter Viserys. It never had before.
“Go have some rest, Aemma. Tis have been an eventful day.” He finally said, giving her a strained smiled and a pat to their joined hands before standing up. With a kiss to the top of her head, Viserys left without another word.
Aemma stayed frozen where she was, clutching at the edge of the tub with so much force it started to hurt her hands. But that pain was preferable to the pain shooting through her heart. When has she lost her sweet caring husband? Did she ever had him in the first place? Did Viserys changed after a crown was put on his head or was Aemma blind from the beginning to who he truly was?
It did not matter anymore though, even if she had the answers to those question which she did not, none of it matter anymore at this point. Her life was this and would always be this droll tragedy.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra watched in amusement as her muña tried to make Baela stop with her habit of sucking her little thumb, the babygirl unimpressed face a twin expression to Uncle Daemon’s. She burst into laughter when her cousin stubbornly put her thumb back in her mouth a second after Aemma took it out and sucked on it noisily.
“Of all the traits you could inherit from both your parents, did you had to inherit this level of petty spite?” Aemma asked at the baby with an arched brow.
Rhaenyra laughed again when Baela simply turned her attention back to the plate with half smashed oranges and started her work to smash the rest in her free hand, uncaring of the scolding.
“You ain’t the best of influences either, young lady.” Her muña said turned her violet eyes to her.
She gave a sheepish smile and then plopped another orange into her mouth, the sour-sweet taste making her hum in appreciation, then both of them smiled when Baela copied Rhaenyra by messily bringing the smashed oranges to her mouth.
“Gods, you two will give me grey hairs too soon.” Aemma shook her head and chuckle.
The light and relaxed air of their breakfast a balm to the tense week since her sister and niece left, since her talk with Viserys. For a week her husband did what he did best and thoroughly ignored that conversation, pretending it never happened, filling their time with annoying talks about the tournament and what was to come once their child was born. Both her and Rhaenyra tried to either avoid sharing meals with him or go through them as fast as possible, both on their last nerve over those topics.
Thankfully the tournament day was upon them, in just a few more hours they would all made their way to the tourney grounds yet again. Everyone except Aemma who was too depleted of energy by now, even the simple act of breaking their fast was tiring for her; though she would tried her best to make an appearance in the feast in celebration of the first day of tourney. More in celebration of everything settling again back at the Eyrie than anything else really.
She truly would began her labours any day now, if not for the maesters predictions, she would have known by the signs her body had already started to give. Aemma had gone through enough pregnancies to know all the right signs by heart.
Their breakfast was interrupted when Ser Harrold knocked on the door, entering after receiving permission, and announced Rhaenyra was needed for something regarding the tourney. Thinking her daughter had been summoned by Viserys, Aemma did not pay it much mind and just nodded at Rhaenyra with a smile.
“Do not take too long, darling. You will have to get ready soon.”
“I know, muña.” She said giving a kiss to her cheek and another to Baela’s head before following Ser Harrold.
Once they were at a safe distance, Rhaenyra looked up at her sworn shield, worried over whatever the issue was.
“Has something happened, Ser?” She asked.
“Your uncle is back.” Ser Harrold answered. “A knight saw him go to the throne room. Luckily I was the first kingsguard he came upon to tell about it.”
Rhaenyra only hummed, excitement spiking up at the news. She really thought Uncle Daemon would stay absent for this tournament, especially after his red-haired whore – an expression she heard her father use with his Lord Hand at the end of a council meeting when he thought she was not paying attention and she quite liked the sound of it – commented he had left for Essos weeks ago.
“He must have passed through the Red Keep’s gates at first light, if no other servants or knights know of his presence.” Ser Harrold added contemplatively and gave her a glance.
“Father does not know he’s here then?”
“No yet.”
“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled up at him impishly. “Let’s try keep it that way and make him a surprise.”
“Whatever you wish, my Princess.” Ser Harrold agreed with a small grin.
The two of them walked to the throne room, sidestepping the many courtiers, lords and ladies starting their morning around the castle. All in a good and happy mood, talking about the upcoming tourney and the soon beginning of the queen’s labors which made Rhaenyra scrunch her nose. Why were they so happy about? It wasn’t them who would suffer through the pains of birthing a child, it was her muña, they had no right to be this cheerful about it.
“Gods be good” Her knight bristled when they entered the throne room to find Uncle Daemon lazily sitting on the throne.
“It’s all right, ser.” Rhaenyra said in her best childish and soft voice and gave a squeeze to his forearm. “Wait outside, I’ll deal with my uncle.”
Ser Harrold looked down at her with a worried frown but acquiesce to her request in the end, no matter the Rogue Prince’s reputation, when it came to his niece at least he could be trusted to cause her no harm.
“What do you think you’re doing, Uncle?” Rhaenyra asked briskly walking the long length towards the Iron Throne so she could have a better look at her kepus, the darkness of the throne room almost entirely obscuring him.
“Sitting.” Daemon replied nonchalantly, glad his precious nice has been the first to find him, he had missed her greatly. “This could well be my chair one day, princess.”
“Not if you’re executed for treason.” She said stopping by the foot of the throne, it had been a long time since the last time she had stepped anywhere beyond the first swords melted on the throne steps. “You haven’t come to court in an age, Baela and I have missed you.”
“Court is so dreadfully boring and the City Watch keeps me quite occupied.” Daemon said leaning forward in the chair to have a better look at Rhaenyra, his princess looking as pretty as ever in one of the dresses he gifted her. “Besides, I had to pay a visit to a friend in Pentos.”
“So I’ve heard.” Rhaenyra pouted a bit but then smiled at seeing how much her kepus hair had grown since the last time she saw him.
It was truly striking how he looked sat atop the throne, she noticed with awe, he certainly looked better there than her father did these days; Uncle Daemon looked the epitome of what a Valyrian king should look like.
“I heard your father was hosting a tournament in my honor.” Daemon commented playfully just to see how Rhaenyra would react.
“The tournament is for his heir.” She retorted doubting he did not know that already.
“Just as I said.”
“His new heir.” Rhaenyra tried to sound happy and proud about that but the way her kepus tsked told her expression certainly did convey the message at all.
“Until cousin Aemma brings forth a son, you are all cursed with me.” Daemon stood up and walked to where she was, though he wished to say those words to his brother way more than to anyone else.
“Then I shall hope for a sister.” She said, dropping any pretences, and smiling widely when Uncle Daemon kneeled in front of her.
“I bought you and Baela something while I was over there.” He picked a small pouch from his pocket and opened it, his greedy princess readily extended her palm to receive the gift.
“Oh, it’s so pretty, kepus.” Rhaenyra beamed at the two bracelets in her hand. One a light violet hue and the other a light brown hue. ‘For our eyes.’ She thought and then threw herself at her kepus, small arms tightening around his neck.
“A matching set.” Daemon said after kissing her hair and when she pulled away a bit he added. “Cousin Aemma said something about you two being inseparable these days.”
“It’s fun to watch Baela learning new things.”
“Have I lost much?” He asked standing up and offering his hand to her. “Has she learn to stand on her own already?”
“No but mom says its because she likes the attention of someone helping her all the time.” Rhaenyra replied in a giggle, both of them walking to the doors. “She’s certain it will not take long though before she starts walking and talking to terrorize the keep like we do.”
Daemon laughed at that, he also was certain his daughter would give plenty of trouble once she was old enough for it. He honestly could not wait. Rhaenyra led him back to the queen’s chambers, talking animatedly of he lost while away she deemed important enough to share. It was not surprising for him that Rhaenyra had been the one to go pick an egg for the soon-to-born child instead of Viserys. Daemon could honestly not remember the last time his brother set foot on the Dragonpit after Balerion’s death.
“Well, look who decided to finally show his face.” Aemma sarcastically commented.
He just sent her smug grin before going to his squealing daughter and picking her up. Daemon felt his heart almost burst out of his chest seeing how happy Baela was to see him, her babbles and wails ringing loud through the room; Rhaenyra was the only one to ever show that level of happiness upon seeing him. He showered his girl with kisses and hugged her tightly, he had missed her just as much.
Daemon went to sit beside Aemma and finally greeted her properly with a kiss to the cheek. She smiled and pinched his cheek making Rhaenyra giggled, then they watched Rhaenyra animatedly show Baela the two bracelets before putting it on Baela’s small wrist and then ordering him to put it in hers. Daemon had given the exact measures he knew both Rhaenyra’s and Baela’s wrists to be but also requested the bracelets to be done in a way they would regulate according to their growth. Essosi were more skilled in doing many things than Westerosi were.
While Rhaenyra and Baela were taken a while later by their caretakers to be readied for the tournament – she was the one this time not to budge in her wish to have Baela present in the royal box for the tourney – and he smirked and winked slyly to his little bird when she came into the room, her eyes and demeanour brightening instantly at seeing him again.
When he looked back at Aemma she was looking at him with disapproval written all over her face but Daemon simply shrugged and then started piling the remaining breakfast food on a plate for himself. No matter how nice it was to sample diversified and different types of food that were cooked in Essos, nothing could compare to food from home. And the Red Keep had only the best of the best of cooks.
“Are you going to participate in the competition this time?” Aemma asked after a moment.
“Don’t know.” He answered with a full mouth which earned him a disapproving tsk so he swallowed before continuing. “I have to see if there are knights interesting enough and worthy enough of my time.”
“Humble as ever.” His cousin shook her head.
“Always.” He winked at her and then put a hand on her protruding stomach, thinking how unnatural it looked on her thin bones. “How are you, cousin, truly?”
“Wanting nothing more than for this to be over with already.” Aemma answered and sighed tiredly.
“Do you think it will be a boy?” Daemon asked taking his hand away, that had been the whole reason why he was on the throne room in the first place, boldly sitting on the Conqueror’s iron chair. Soon he might be replaced for good and never get the chance to do that.
“I can only pray it is. It will be easier to get away from here.”
Daemon frowned in confusion at her choice of words but before he could ask whatever it is she meant by that, the Grandmaester entered the room without warning with a gaggle of people behind. Daemon sneered angrily at them and their lack of respect, and he would have had some words with Aemma’s sworn shield if the man hadn’t appeared at the door looking just as dissatisfied.
“Guess I better go have a bath and change.” He said still side-eyeing both grey rats. “The trip was long and tiring. We will talk more later, yes?”
“Aye, aye.” She tried to smile but it was more of a sneer too than anything else. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Daemon gave a kiss to her cheek before leaving.
“Keep a close eye on them.” He ordered to the kingsguard, was him the Darklyn knight or the Fell knight, he never bothered to learn their faces and names. Only Ser Harrold and Ser Erryk remarkable enough to make a mark on his memory.
The knight bowed his agreement and with a last look to his clearly unhappy cousin, Daemon turned to leave. It did not matter that he did not trust the skills of those grey rats and it certainly did not matter if Aemma also did not like their treatment, their king wholeheartedly trusted those men and would have no one else caring for his precious son. Even if said son was not a guarantee.
--
After a long scalding hot bath later – and a quick romp with his eager red bird – Daemon was all dressed for the tournament opening day. He made his way to the outer courtyard and grinned wickedly to everyone mingling about who looked at them curiously; it was very tempted to walk to the Hightowers and mess with both father and daughter when they looked at him with matching expressions of contempt.
A Rhaenyra bouncing Baela on her arms stopped him just in time.
Daemon was sore and tired enough from the long journey from Pentos to accept being hauled to the tourney grounds on a wheelhouse. He hurried Rhaenyra towards an unoccupied one, not wanting to see his brother just yet, and made sure just the three of them were aboard it. His attempt ended up failing when the Velaryon’s entered the damn thing before the door was closed.
He did play nice with them though during the few minutes of ride. Especially when Rhaenys piqued his interest by comment about the latest friction in the Vale, something serious enough that she even took their cousin's sister and Lady Jeyne back there by dragon. Daemon looked suspicious at the way Rhaenys told it and the glint he caught on Corlys eyes. Would they tried to earn favour with the Vale and its Lady? If so, why ever for?
Daemon looked over at their children and while Laenor was distractedly talking with Rhaenyra about their dragon taming lessons and riding, paying no interest to the adult talk, the girl’s eyes darted wildly around and her body showed plenty signs of discomfort. ‘Mm interesting.’ He thought but would have to look more on that another time.
Once they reached the tourney grounds, they walked to the stands and climbed the steps leading to the royal box where a few people were already in. Daemon was actually surprised at how bigger the box was, it’s size way larger than he remembered it being; when they sat he asked Rhaenyra about it and she explained about Viserys ordering it to be made bigger so it could accommodate the number of important lords that would attend the tournament. That so many people were bothering with this unnecessary and frivolous event told Daemon that his brother’s distasteful dispositions was now widely known by the realm.
Thankfully they had arrived early enough that Daemon was able to choose the front row of seats closer to the box railing, so he could both have a closer watch of the competitions as well as stay away from his brother. He was too tired and not in the mood at all for Viserys. It was better to stay with the loudly chattering kids than close to Viserys annoying talks and unfunny joked. At least Rhaenyra had chosen decent enough kids to surround herself with.
Her Arryn cousins were a bit of a surprise to Daemon when they arrived, he thought all of the family had gone back, but when a surly northern man and a kid arrived it was truly a shock to him. Wasn’t the North the one kingdom supposed to be the saving grace when it came to frivolous southern ass-licking events? He had to suddenly stay in high alert when said northern decided to sit with them, Daemon looked at him wryly.
The man, Rickon Stark as he introduced himself, was perceptive enough to notice that and joked about it. His harsh and dark humour almost endearing him to Daemon, not enough for him to like the man but enough for him to allow himself to relax a bit. Stark was pleasant enough company and his son also seemed nice, at least all the other kids liked the boy. An adult company for the next few hours would be good.
Viserys arrived fashionable late, everyone was already seated inside the royal box and the rest of the stands were mostly packed too, closely accompanied by his leech of a Hand. His brother stopped in his track when he noticed Daemon’s presence and Daemon made a point to grin and wink before turning away; maybe he was overplaying this childish act but oh well, nothing Viserys did not deserve.
The tournament went as Daemon expected it would: Viserys gave a flowery, and empty in his opinion, speech before announcing the tourney’s start. Then there was a round of mock battles before the archery competition. It was all dreadfully boring, so much so Baela promptly fell asleep on Daemon's chest; he resorted in distracting himself by striking a conversation with the Stark heir. With the archery competition done, his brother gave another flowery and empty worded speech to the winner, a knight or another from the Reach, and then announced the beginning of the melee.
There was some really good knights competing, so much so the day ended with no winner and the competition was set to have a final round the next day, which meant Daemon would have one more day to rest before the joust. Despite his answer to Aemma, he knew he would end up competing, the dullness to sit still on the stuffy royal box too grating on his restless mind. Besides, if he remembered the shield right, that Cole knight or something like that was in the melee and was likely to joust as well, payback was always a good incentive for Daemon.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Everything was going so well on Rhaenyra’s life: she had cousins and kids now to be the friends she never had, flocking around her all the time. Uncle Daemon was back, spending two whole days doting on her and her little cousin tirelessly. Her father’s tourney was a utter success if his happy laughs and smiles and behavior was any indication. Her muña was doing fine, at least as alright as her state allowed, and was still being present for Rhaenyra more than the other pregnancies.
She finally flew again alongside her kepus and Caraxes after what felt like years. All was going perfectly fine. Until that morning.
Rhaenyra was breaking her fast with her family at the queen’s private solar. Her muña somehow had convinced her father and kepus to spend more than a minute in each other’s presence, both thankfully playing nice for her muña’s benefit. It was a good morning, a happy one even, with her parents there, her kepus and her little cousin. All eating together. It felt good, it felt right and so natural.
Then they were all finished and standing up to go about their day. They all needed to get ready for the third day of tourney, except her muña who could just handle going to the feasts at night. Rhaenyra would stay a bit longer with her muña, since Baela would not attend today so she did not need to choose her clothes as well, Rhaenyra had a bit more of time to spare.
However, when her father and kepus were just half way to the doors, her muña gave a loud gasp before a sound of water gushing down on the floor filled the room. Rhaenyra looked in confusion between her muña’s face and the puddle of liquid on her feet, not understanding what had happened but thinking it must have been bad if her muña was looking so terrified all of a sudden.
“The babe.” Her muña whispered resting both hands on her huge belly and slightly swaying on her feet for a second before looking up again to where the king and the prince were frozen in place. “The babe is coming.”
Notes:
Soo what's your thoughts??!?!?!? Let me know if you liked it by dropping a comment or kudos!! Your opinion is very welcomed and appreciated 🥰
I forgot to comment/rant about something on the last chapter and I've the need to put it out of my chest 😅 Like seriously it boggles me that Rodrik Arryn’s two sons very likely were in age w Daella and yet Jae&Alysanne gave her to him instead, a man 20 years older that already had plenty of children of his own , just like they wanted Viserra to marry a man w a foot in the grave. They, freaking princesses and their children would literally mean little to nothing in the kingdoms! They would become widows young (if things hadn’t gone the way they did) and be spoiled to better marriage prospects, their children would besides having nothing to inherit from the fathers, would also not have the Targ name, would not have prince/princess tittles and would have no dragons. No matter what canon tells/implies, I don’t think Alysanne loved her daughters all that much, there's no other explanation. Anyways I’m all about age gap but they were acting as if the fucking princesses’ of the realm lacked options of men to marry or didn’t deserve decent marriages. The most terrible parents to ever exist tbh 😑
That out of the way...
Viserys always doing his most to follow on his grandparents footsteps regarding parenting 🤡
And I know babe Rhae is just 8, a literal baby, but kids are very perceptive and sensitive and sensible so not that fictional for her to be already understanding things and growing a certain resentment for her father and things will just go down hill from here!!It never sat right w me that in both book and series canon they made Rhaenyra this starred eye girl (almost stupid honestly) towards her clown of a father when he did nothing truly meaningful for her 🙄 from personal experience that usually ain't how things really work irl!
Rhaenys all helpful because it's always good to have a great house in debted to you somehow 🫣 meanwhile are we able to already feel the conflicts of interest Laena will have to face? Which side she will end landing on? 🫣
And whats your bets on who's making sure Aemma is all alone for the birth? 🤭 Whoever it was, that is certain to come bite them in the ass big time
Btw, for a hot second I actually thought the series changes for Alicent would be nice and have actual interesting twists to it but just in the first scene cause when that godswood talk scene happened I was "yeah, no this b is a snake in disguise and will be way worse than book canon, period end of story" 😑 wtf was that insistence about Rhaenyra worrying over some position that wasn't hers yet at that point unless Alicent did have an idea of the plots to come? It makes no sense otherwise!! And when Rhaenyra didn't answer satisfactory she was all pissy about it? That alone said all I needed to know about the series version of Alicent 🤦🏾♀️
But anyways, I've tried my best to fit these scenes with babe Rhae and Laena friendship instead, hopefully I did a decent enough job 😁
I guess that's all 😅
Here's some links if you interested for my imagined visuals of the story:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-13/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/aemma-arryn-targaryen/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenys-targaryen-velaryon/outfits-chapter-13/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfits-chapter-13/
Let me know if you liked the chapter!!!
See you in the next one ❣️😘
Chapter 15: Chapter Fourteen: 105 AC Part VI - A Queen’s Death
Notes:
Heeellou 🙆🏾♀️
I'm sorry for this huuuuge chapter but I was really determined to finish year 105AC so pls bear with me and these +18k monster 😅
It was a literal birth to write all of this I'll have you know!! Thankfully I was inspired so I was basically writing everyday non stop but still it was a rough few days
Next chapter might take a bit longer though since I'll give my fingers and mind a little restAnyways...
Here we say goodbye to Aemma - ik ik it pained me to this to her but the plot demands it 😭 - and welcome babe Rhae season of 'im not having a good time' , so buckle up folks 💔
I put up some new tags so mind them and if anything bothers you just skip the parts or this chapter or the fic altogether!
End notes might be a big monster too but no need to read it if youre not interestedReminder that English is not my mother tongue so I apologize for any errors/confusions, I try my best!
High Valyrian is in bold-italicsHave a fun? reading 🫣
See you in the end notes
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
...“The babe.” Her muña whispered resting both hands on her huge belly and slightly swaying on her feet for a second before looking up again to where the king and the prince were frozen in place. “The babe is coming.”
Rhaenyra did not have any time to ask about what the puddle of pinkish water meant or what was going to happen with her muña now that the babe would be born before she was being pulled backwards by a strong hand. Then her father was all over muña, their voices too low for Rhaenyra to understand anything. She looked up at her kepus, confused and scared, and she felt like crying when she saw the same fearful expression on his face; her kepus was never afraid so if he was now it could not mean anything good.
Then Rhaenyra, and little Baela, did start crying when her father startled them with a loud scream, calling for the guards and maesters. In a matter of just a few minutes a bunch of people quickly started filtering in the room, surrounding her muña on all sides.
“Come, little love.” Uncle Daemon said in a gentle voice, his hand still steadily on her shoulder, and tried to pull her towards the door but Rhaenyra struggled against his hold instead.
“No, I need to see muña.” She tried to pull away more forcefully, eyes trained on the people taking her muña away to the sleeping room.
“Rhaenyra. Where is Rhaenyra? I need to see my daughter.” Her muña’s voice echoed from the other room before she could try again to pull away from her kepus’ hold.
She waited for just a second for anyone to come get her but when no one came, Rhaenyra pulled herself from her kepus hold again and when his fingers loosened just a fraction she ran. Rhaenyra rudely pushed through the people, not caring to slam her fists into them to make them move, before finally having a glimpse of her muña again. Aemma instantly opened her arms when she saw her darling girl, not caring for the pain that started to assault her lower body, and Rhaenyra promptly threw herself in her muña’s open arms, this time uncaringly of the huge belly.
“My darling girl. My sweet daughter… My only babe.” Aemma whispered in her ear, low enough no one heard it properly. “Do not cry my love. Everything will be alright.”
“Do you promise, muña?” Rhaenyra asked pulling away to look at her muña’s beautiful lilac eyes, her own eyes that was the very same shade of lilac shone with pleading tears.
“It is just for a few hours, my darling, that I’ll be gone. Be my brave girl in the meantime.”
“I will but I’ll miss you, muña.”
“No need to miss me, my love. I’ll see you soon.” Aemma caressed her daughter’s tear-stained face and smiled that loving smile she only ever gave to her darling girl. But then she felt a painful pinch on her lower belly and loudly hissed in pain.
Again hands grabbed at Rhaenyra’s shoulders before she could say or do anything at seeing her muña’s face contort in pain.
“Come, Rhaenyra. The birthing bed is no place for a child.” Her father said pulling her away from the bed.
She struggled again and unlike her kepus, her father did not have the strengthen to really hold her so she threw herself into her muña’s arms for another hug.
“I love you, muña.” Rhaenyra said into her muña’s neck, breathing in her all familiar scent, basking in her warm loving embrance.
“I love you, my girl. Always.” Aemma said, also breathing in the smell of her daughter’s hair, taking in the weight of her small body, burning that moment into her brain.
Aemma knew that would be the only thing to help her get through the next hours of pain and blood, the only consolation she would have. What she did not know was that it would be the last time she would ever held her daughter. The last time Rhaenyra would be with her mother.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The next hour passed as a blur for Rhaenyra, her brain in a daze she never before experienced and did not know how to fight against.
Despite her father’s assuring words before he pushed her off the room, words of how everything would be just fine and that all would be alright with Aemma before long, a feeling had settled deep in Rhaenyra that made impossible for her to believe those words. Not even Uncle Daemon’s attempt worked, neither his words nor his touch calmed her as it usually did.
Rhaenyra paid little attention while being guided back to her chambers, only Baela’s cries pierced through the fog in her mind. No matter what her kepus tried to do to make Baela calm down and stop crying, it was as if her little cousin was simply inconsolable for some reason, her crying carrying a tone of pain that even Rhaenyra was able to understand. And that only intensified the feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Once she was back in her chambers, her maids took over after Uncle Daemon said something to them she did not really heard; while getting her ready for the day’s tourney they treated her as if made out of glass and Rhaenyra hated it. She wanted to scream and send them away. She only wished to lay down to wait for when she could go see her muña again. When the birth was done, Rhaenyra promised to herself she would stay at her muña’s side for a whole week, hugging and kissing and caring for her as she deserved.
Her maids stayed with her, silent as the death, until it was time for Rhaenyra to go to the tourney grounds. She felt like screaming again when her father was the one to come get her, wide smile on his face, they should be with her muña not going to some stupid tournament. Rhaenyra dragged her feet all the way to the wheelhouse and during the quick ride she kept silent and with a closed off expression. She felt in no mood for any sort of enjoyment, she was too scared for her muña all alone birthing a babe Rhaenyra didn’t even know if her mother truly wanted.
When they arrived at the royal box, Rhaenyra followed after Laena to sit again on the front row despite her father’s wanting her to sit with him; she would probably actually scream if she had to spent the next couple hours beside his cheerfulness.
“You are very quiet today, Princess.” Lady Alicent commented beside her, she did not even notice the girl was sitting there.
“Mother started her labors. I guess I’m worried, that’s all.” She answered in a clipped tone, her right fingers almost abusing her left fingers with the force she was applying to twist her rings.
“Oh.” Lady Alicent expressed in surprise and then glanced towards where the King and her father were sat, their happy and relaxed demeanor a good sign things were probably fine. “I’m sure the Seven will protect her and the babe. Then you will have a sibling very soon, Princess.”
Rhaenyra only hummed, not in the mood to entertain Lady Alicent’s talks of the Seven and all that nonsense. She felt a squeeze in her hand and looked down to see Laena’s hand atop hers, she almost smiled at the comforting gesture, happy her cousin and friend was there.
For the first time, Rhaenyra wished her kepus was not competing, she wished he could be the one there to comfort her in this distressing time. But she knew Uncle Daemon probably needed something to busy his mind with if he was that scared and worried for her muña too, he was just restless like that.
“Be welcome!” Her father’s loud voice startled her again, her mind remembering his shout of pure distress not that long ago. “I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed.” The King said, voice in its usual cheerfulness and Rhaenyra frowned. “This great day has been made more auspicious by the news I am happy to share… Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” The arena was engulfed by the loud sound of applause and cheers. “May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants. Let’s the joust begin!”
Rhaenyra gritted her teeth at the enjoyment of everyone around, no one seemed worried over the news her muña was once again going through the struggles of birthing a babe, everyone only carrying about entertaining themselves. It was with great disinterest and annoyance she watched the first couples rounds of the joust with knights she care not to know where houses they hailed from nor whether they would win or not.
“A mystery knight?” She heard Laena ask, her cousin sat on her right side, when another knight entered the grounds for his turn.
“No, a Cole, of the Stormlands. He has been competing quite a lot in the latest tourneys.” Lady Alicent answered on her other side. “He even defeated Prince Daemon once.”
“I’ve never heard of House Cole. Or remember him competing.” Her cousin said with disinterest. Rhaenyra did remember him competing and winning against her kepus so she knew he was a good combatant but today she had no mood for this.
“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!” Lord Baratheon booming voice cut the two girls chatter. “I would humbly ask for the favor of “the queen who never was.”
Rhaenyra scrunched her nose at his choice of words, thinking it very improper and rude, and looked over at where her older cousin was already standing up with a wreath of flowers in hand. Princess Rhaenys had even wore a dress with a stitching that resembled a stag and that’s how her own Baratheon cousin showed his respect, or lack thereof.
“Good fortune to you, cousin.” Princess Rhaenys said in a very polite voice and a more than false grin on her lips, if the man was not family she would have loved to sic Meleys on him
“I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it.” The man said arrogantly and Rhaenys did roll her eyes this time before going back to her seat.
“You could have Baratheon’s tongue for that.” Otto whispered for the King, low enough for no one else to hear. Despite his reservations towards the princess and her Velaryon husband, Lord Baratheon’s behavior was just too unseemly.
“Tongues will not change the succession my grandsire chose.” Viserys shrugged, he would not let anything affect his high spirits this day when his son would finally arrive. “Let them wag.”
“Lord Stokeworth’s daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire, I heard the other day.” Lady Alicent said while the two knights readied themselves, trying to start a conversation with the surly princess. She was a brat and spoiled girl but no one deserved the worry she was likely going through over her inept mother.
“Lord Massey’s son?” Lady Laena was the one to say anything, interested in the gossip so Alicent saw no harm in entertaining the girl since the princess chose to keep brooding.
“Mmhm. They’re to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood.” Alicent replied.
“Well, I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress.” Laena whispered, if only to keep the older girl focused away from her cousin who clearly did not want any talking.
Rhaenyra paid no attention to her cousin and Lady Alicent gossiping around her, her interest finally piqued over her wish to see Lord Baratheon eat mud. She smiled for the first time, a small satisfied grin, when the Cole knight knocked Lord Baratheon from his horse. ‘Serves you right.” She thought before gesturing for Ser Harrold.
“What do you know about this Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?” Rhaenyra thought curiously, her mind needing some distraction and gossiping would not do the trick. She had never thought much about the knight but if he was able to win against her kepus and also win the melee back during her nameday tourney, then perhaps he was a really good knight.
“I’ve heard Ser Criston is common-born, son of Lord Dondarrion’s steward.” Ser Harrold answered after kneeling beside her. “But other than that, and the fact he has had all these wins in the last three tourneys including a victory against Prince Daemon, there really isn’t much to be said about the lad.”
“Mm. Thank you, ser.” She smiled more genuinely and her sword shield gave her his usual fatherly smile.
Rhaenyra watched the next few rounds with a bit more of interest, mind finally calming some and being able to focus on something else that wasn’t the fear for whatever was happening with her muña. She still gave little attention to Laena and Alicent continuing gossip, it was like been around her muña’s lady-in-waiting all over again.
She had started to think her kepus gave up the idea of competing, and secretly hoped that he may have just so he could have gone stay with her muña, but of course she should know better than to think Daemon Targaryen would ever give up once his mind was settle on something. They were alike in that.
“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City will now choose his first opponent!” The master of revels announced loudly while knights trotted into the arena.
As was customary by now, if because of his status as prince or not Rhaenyra did not know, her kepus could chose whoever opponent he wanted and he loved to make a spectacle out of it. He rode into the arena in the usual big black destrier he favored for jousts, its coat as shining as polished steel and Uncle Daemon’s black armor just as shining. Rhaenyra almost pouted in seeing him in his old armor instead of the one she liked better.
It was no surprise to many in the royal box when her kepus chose the Lord Hand’s son as his opponent, the freshly knighted Ser Gwayne. From all the knights lined up he was the least impressive, Rhaenyra knew, seeing as he gained his knighthood only two days past and he was not even the one to win the melee. As Uncle Daemon had whispered with a sneer, he really only was knighted due her father’s good grace when it came to his Lord Hand.
“For his first challenge, prince Daemon chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.” The master of revels said and the arena was fill with the sound of the drums while both knights prepared themselves.
“Five dragons on Daemon.” Rhaenyra heard Lord Beesbury’s voice somewhere behind her making her grin a little.
She looked over at Alicent and almost pitied her for the clear worry she saw on the older girl’s face, that would no doubt be a swift and maybe even brutal victory for Uncle Daemon. Rhaenyra caught sight of the lady picking at her cuticles, making fresh new cuts on the barely healed ones, that made Rhaenyra stop with her own habit of twisting her rings before she also hurt herself.
Returning her attention to the arena, she watched with avid attention the two knights go against each other, a blur of black armor against silver and green. Then as she thought would be the case, Uncle Daemon dealt a brutal blow to Ser Gwayne, the younger man falling roughly to the ground. People gasped in shock and waited in utter silence to see if the Hightower had survived the fall, fortunately he was just unconscious or else Rhaenyra knew her father would punish her kepus somehow.
Uncle Daemon came to the royal box but unlike previous tournaments, Rhaenyra did not get up to go greet him nor did she eagerly wanted him to ask her favor. Although she was able to distract herself some in the last few hours, she was still worried and not in the right mood for this.
“Nicely done, Prince Daemon.” Her cousin Laena said, the only one to approach the railing.
“Thank you, Lady Laena.” Uncle Daemon said courteously before shifting his attention to Rhaenyra. He looked intently at her, as if reading right through her and so she gave him a small reassuring smile and a little nod of the head to let him know she was fine. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Laena. But having your favor would be a great incentive.”
She watched her cousin pick up her own wreath of flower with a huge smile and give it to her kepus.
“Good luck, Prince Daemon.”
Rhaenyra flashed a quick smile when her cousin sat back beside her, Laena’s fingers intertwining with hers again. Maybe it was her worry and fear but she did not mind seeing Uncle Daemon gaining someone else’s favor, especially since it was just Laena, there was no problem in that.
The little princess did not see though the interested look of her cousin’s father and the silent conversation shared between husband and wife over the innocent and small gesture.
Hours passed by, the morning coming to an end, with knight after knight competing and each new round with the remaining combatants became more violent and bloodier. Rhaenyra inevitably gasped in horror along with many people when a round ended with a knight crushing the other one’s head brutally; while in the people in the stands loudly cheered the violence and blood spilled.
“And the day grows ugly.” Rhaenys commented in a whisper, absentmindedly looking at her nails, beyond bored from the futile spectacle of cock measurement.
“I wonder if this is how we should celebrate the birth of our future king. With wanton violence.” Her husband said, also not a fan of that particular distasteful sort of event.
“Hm.” She hummed, wondering the very same and her thoughts again turned to her poor cousin facing a real battle in that very moment. “It’s been 70 years since King Maegor’s end. These knights are as green as summer grass. None have known real war. Their lords send them to the tourney fields with fists full of steel and balls full of seed, and we expect them to act with honor and grace. It’s a marvel that war didn’t break out at first blood.”
Lord Corlys nodded his head in agreement, he had seen and done much in his time traveling the seas and this was no real combat, the knights no true warriors standing their grounds on actual bloodied fields. He looked over at where both his children were once again sitting with the little princess and was satisfied to see how close his Laena had become with Princess Rhaenyra. They must certainly ensure that friendship would be well cultivated and strengthened.
While everyone was too focused on the joust below, Maester Mellos discreetly entered the royal box and went to the Lord Hand with news of the Queen, whispering lowly words that filled the Hand with satisfaction but he kept a stoic expression so he could pass the news to the King properly.
Rhaenyra noticed some movement behind and murmuring starting around, looking back she saw her father standing up and hurriedly exiting the box with his Kingsguard. She wanted to get up and run after him, to know what was happening, to know if the babe was here and how her muña was doing… But her fear kept her frozen in place. Laena squeezed her hand again, a comforting warmth grounding her attention back to the present competition.
If the babe was already born, she knew her father would soon be back to happily announce his son's birth to all, maybe even bring the new-born along to show him off. Rhaenyra only wanted to know of her muña.
“Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen.” The booming voice of the master of revels announced, her mind so distracted she even lost her kepus entering the arena again.
After so many hours of competition, tiring and mainly boring, it had all finally come to an end. Uncle Daemon and the Cole knight once more the last knights standing. Rhaenyra hoped things would end differently for her kepus this time around, preferably fast so she could rush back to the Red Keep.
Like last time, seeing the two man facing each other was a most entertaining watch, their determination to best each other almost palpable in the air. As if a reenaction of the last tourney, Uncle Daemon was the first to fall at the Cole knight’s lance but was quick to be back on his feet and calling for his sword. It was with rapt attention everyone present watched the two man fight against each other, sword against morningstar, the sound of steel against steel the only sound filling the arena.
For a split second Rhaenyra saw her kepus losing again for the Cole knight when it seemed the man won the upper hand for a moment but faster than last time, in a blink Uncle Daemon had the other man pinned to the ground with Dark Sister on his neck. It was a truly beautiful thing to watch her kepus sharp skill first hand. She stood up, loudly clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd when Uncle Daemon was declared the victor; he took off his helmet, braided hair a sweaty mess, and smiled widely at her. And for that one moment all was right, there was no fear and no worries in her mind, it was just another day and another frivolous tourney.
Like all those hours ago that early morning, everything was perfectly fine… Until it wasn’t.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“Do something for her!”
Viserys’ loud voice cut through Aemma’s own wails of pain, and the fog in her mind. Aemma wanted to ask her husband to command them again to do something to help her, to easy all the pain she had to endure for hours now. But only a scream of pain passes through her raw throat.
“Aemma… Aemma, I’m here.” Her husband voice reaches her again, this time closer, clearer but soft. She almost feels comforted by him and the warm hand encircling hers. “I’m here.”
“Help me, please.” Aemma is able to say, looking at her husband pleadingly.
“I’m here. It’s all right.” Viserys lips kissed on her fingers and hand.
“I don’t want do this.” She is finally able to express, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. Her body relax a bit when the pain finally subsides some and it only makes her mind grow foggier.
“You’re going to be all right.”
And then Viserys is gone from her side and any modicum of comfort his presence brought is gone as well, despite the tension and an ominous feeling sweeping through her exhausted body, Aemma is unable to even properly move; the fogginess and sluggishness settling in for good deep in her bones. She vaguely remembers the vial of awful tasting milk of the poppy being shoved down her throat by the Grandmaester just minutes before Viserys arrived, both her and the few bold enough maids protests against it going utterly ignored.
Yes, she was going through too much pain, maybe more than she ever remembered feeling in her last full-term pregnancies but the amount of milk of the poppy given to her was just too much. She knew it but was unable to reason or even fight against the maesters while labouring to bring that child into the world; the maids wary looks confirmed Aemma’s worries over the men’s actions.
The latest dose was the most they gave her so far if how fast and deep she was falling into oblivion was any indication. Why though, her tired and dazed mind wondered in confusion. She needed the last of her strengthen left to push the babe out and she couldn’t do it if she was this much drugged so why did they do that? Was something terribly wrong? Has that terrible premonition she felt all this time come to pass?
Aemma heard low hushed voices, one she was almost sure was Viserys’s, but they sounded too far away and muddled for her to understand what they were saying. But it must be something bad, something must be wrong yet again with another of her pregnancies. Her labours had started way too fast after her water broke, in just a couple of hours and she was already having to push, Aemma had worried and feared about it but could not stop her body instincts to give birth even if she wanted to; a whole morning was nothing but a blur of pain and words of push, yet there was no sign of the babe.
She must have dozed off despite the lingering pain, her body more than overwrought at this point and her mind completely numb from the poppy, next thing she saw was her husband back at her side kneeling next to her.
“Viserys.” Aemma mumbled weakly, confused at his expression and the shining tears in his eyes. Had she lost another babe while unconscious for those few minutes?
Her husband picked one of her limp hands again and brought it to his lips, his kiss pressing hard against her skin.
“They’re going to bring the babe out now.” Viserys said but Aemma could not fully register the words.
The foggy was just too strong for her mind to fight against so she only hummed and attempted a smile, genuinely glad to know she had not lost another babe. Relieved to know there was still hope yet.
“I love you.” Her husband voice was a gentle and soft whisper, the familiar tone she remembered from too many years ago when they were younger and still whole.
Aemma smiled at him again, glad to catch a glimpse of the husband she used to know, the man she had married and loved. Then she was startled when hands pulled her down on the bed from the soft mountain of pillows she had been resting on and more hands grabbed at her arms and legs pinning her to the bed. Aemma heard some sniffling as if someone was crying and the hands grew tighter on her skin.
“What is happening?” She asked, voice and mind suddenly sharper, that all too familiar gut-wrenching feeling ripping through her when she looked back at Viserys.
Her husband was gone, the man holding her hand and looking at her with sorrow was but a stranger.
“No, it’s all right.” His voice was clearer now but it did nothing to soothe her as before, only made her more scared.
“No…” Aemma whispered before looking wildly around the room, the maids the ones holding her down and one of them silently crying, and she felt betrayed for a reason she did not even know. “What is happening? Viserys, what…”
“No, it’s all right.” He repeated again, as if telling it to himself and not her, as if trying to comfort himself and not her.
Aemma’s mind was a mess of confusion and fear, feeling terrified and betrayed. And when she saw the cursed maester climb on the bed to get close to her exposed belly and the sun reflected off of a shining sharp metal, she knew this was it. This is what that foreboding feeling meant.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Aemma asked again, the poppy still doing its work despite the terror having helped her mind clear a bit, and was ready to scream and command them to get away from her. To let her go. She was Queen, why were they doing this?
“They’re going to bring the babe out.” Viserys said into her skin, lips attached to her hand and eyes closed.
“How are they…” Her answer died in her throat when she caught the reflection of the sharp object again.
Why were they doing this? Why did they want to use that thing on her? She was giving birth, all she needed was to push a bit more and the babe would come, she could do it, she would do it. Why was Viserys allowing this madness instead? How could he be doing this to her?
“It’s all right.”
“Viserys, please.” Aemma looked at him again, all the pleading her terrified mind could come up with.
“It’s all right.” He repeated and Aemma trashed against the hands holding her down, wanting to get to him and wring his neck.
“No, I’m scared.” She pleaded again, hoping the fear in her voice and horror in her face would do something for him.
“Don’t be scared, my love. They’re going to bring the babe out.”
Aemma wanted to plead again, to scream and fight against whatever atrocity her own husband was allowing to be done to her but all her fight left her body when for a split second Rhaenyra’s smiling face flashed through her mind, when her darling girl’s sweet laughter filled her ears. How could Viserys be doing this to them? How could he allow this? Why was he doing this? Why did he want his own wife and daughter to suffer so?
“No! No!” Aemma fought back again when she felt cold metal touch her skin and a painful pinch, nothing but her daughter’s face on her mind, nothing but fear of never seeing Rhaenyra again feeling her heart. “No! Viserys, no! Please!”
Aemma’s pleading was for naught though. It was too late for her. It was too late to ever have a chance at a better life. Too late to be more than what a traitorous husband made her into. The hours of pain from before was nothing compared to the pain of a blade cutting through flesh and muscle harshly and relentless, suddenly all the milk of the poppy they gave her did not work at all, she felt everything. But that pain did not compare to the pain of utter betrayal she suffered by the hands of the man who professed to love her, the man who swore before the gods to protect her.
And nothing compared to the indescribable feeling of never again seeing her darling girl. Queen Aemma’s last second alive was not listening to a babe crying nor was it feeling the hand holding hers; on her last breath Aemma saw her daughter. Her Rhaenyra, her only babe. Aemma saw her daughter smile brightly at her and she heard her whispers of ‘I love you muña. Always.’ before death embraced her in its dark cold arms.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra watched with amusement Uncle Daemon revel in the cheers and applause of the people, spinning around with his arms outstretched and a gloating smile on his lips, when he turned again and faced the royal box, his purple eyes focusing on her and they shared a grin between themselves. It did not matter if he had asked for Laena’s favour or even if he crowned her cousin next, Rhaenyra new his victory was for her.
Her kepus expression creased into a frown at the same time murmuring restarted around the box, then his eyes widened for just a fraction and his smile died.
Rhaenyra instantly knew then if she looked back to the rising commotion she would become aware of something terribly bad so she refused to. Her lilacs eyes kept focused on Uncle Daemon, watching a dozen feelings quickly pass over his eyes while observing whatever was going on behind her.
She only turned her head when she heard Princess Rhaenys approach their seats and call for her children, and Rhaenyra instantly regretted doing so; the look on the older woman’s face said all she needed to know. Something had happened. Something bad. Something she would rather not know.
“I am very sorry, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Lord Hand said when he also came to fetch his daughter, his hand resting on her shoulder for a second before both Hightowers left.
Rhaenyra turned her eyes again to the arena below to find her kepus standing still on the same place, gaze still on her but it was like he was not really looking at her or anything in particular, his purple eyes unfocused. She felt her own vision losing focus by the tears welling up in her eyes, everything becoming blurring and her breathing irregular. Rhaenyra felt like she could not breathe, she felt a terrible constriction in her chest and a sinking feeling settled in her heart, the question of ‘had something bad happen to her muña?’ the only thought in her mind.
Fortunately for the princess, her sworn shield waited until everyone left to finally go to her so he could bring her back to the castle; Ser Harrold sorrowfully kneeled down beside the little princess and put a hand on her back gently.
“My Princess, we have to go.” He said and watched her forcefully shake her head no. “I’m sorry… But we must go. The King will be wanting you by his side.”
“No.” Rhaenyra said in a broken voice, whether a denial of her father wishing for her to be with him or a denial of leaving that box to face whatever reality awaited her did not matter. “I won’t go. I won’t go.”
“Please, Your Grace.”
“I won’t go.” She repeated more loudly, tears freely falling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to go!”
Rhaenyra lost the battle against the whirlwind of emotions assaulting her and started to cry, loud sobs and gasping breathes; she did not care if there might still be people on the stands witnessing that. She knew, without no one having to actually say the words, she just knew her muña was gone.
“It is alright, little love. I’m here.” Uncle Daemon voice filled her ears, his arms swiftly encircling her small body and pulling her into his body, covering her away from anyone and everything. It only encouraged her to cry harder and louder.
She felt herself being lifted up by her kepus and carried from there, then a white cape being draped over her for a minute before Uncle Daemon got into a carriage. Rhaenyra heard Ser Harrold say something about following behind them and her kepus order something of him but she was not paying any attention to anything other the painful realization her muña was gone. She did not even register the movement of the carriage nor Uncle Daemon’s whispering a song to attempt calming her.
Rhaenyra’s mind was latched onto the loss of her muña. Nothing else mattered.
She cried all the way to the castle and all the way to her chambers, not even noticing the dark path uncle Daemon took to get them discreetly inside, and she kept crying and crying until her body had no more strengthen left. Before Rhaenyra succumbed to sleep, she prayed she would wake and this would all have been a terrible nightmare.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon watched Rhaenyra unconscious form, her face still scrunched and slightly crying even in sleep, feeling hurt himself by her suffering and by his cousin’s loss.
The moment he saw that Hightower cunt come back into the box and go whisper on each of the council members’ ears, Daemon had known something had gone wrong with the birthing. Though at first he thought it might have been just another lost babe, when the man put a hand on his niece’s shoulder and said something, he knew right away then that the loss had been greater than just a mere babe.
The ‘whats and hows’ were still unknown to him but he could assume it was something truly bad. His brave and strong cousin had gone through this so many times before and always survived, even if dying on the inside little by little, so why this time was different? How could this happen now? How could they lost another family member?
Daemon closed his eyes when his niece let out a pitifully little whine, no doubt this nightmare chasing her into her dreams. He could not say what hurt more, the loss of another one of his family or watching his precious niece breakdown like that; every tear and every sob sliced through him like knifes slicing through flesh. And he did not know what to do, what could he possibly do to help ease her pain in any way. How could he when he himself never learned how to heal nor grief over all the losses life have dealt him this far?
All Daemon was able to do was protect her from curious eyes, hug her tight and whisper her favorite lullaby if only for her to know he was there, that she was not alone.
After being sure Rhaenyra was deep asleep, Daemon walked out of her sleeping room and into her antechamber, finding his cousin sitting on a chair by the unlit hearth.
“How is she?” Rhaenys asked without looking away from the ashes in the hearth.
“Hurting.” He answered crossing his arms.
“Did you came straight here?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You haven’t talked with Viserys yet then?” She answered with another question.
“What do you want, Rhaenys? Why are you here?” Daemon asked, with no patient for whatever this was; he did need to go see his brother, Viserys was probably falling apart just as much as Rhaenyra.
“The queen birthed a son at long last.” Rhaenys said and then finally looked at him, her eyes slightly red and expression dark. “It only costed her life but Aemma finally did it.”
“Did you go there?” He asked approaching her, something in her eyes making him wary.
“They had already covered her body but…” She looked away but not fast enough before Daemon caught a glimpse of shining tears in her violet eyes.
“But what?”
“Something… There was so much blood, Daemon.” Rhaenys said in a shaking breath, the image she faced when steeping inside those chambers burned in her mind’s eye. “I do not know what, the servants cleaning the room would not say anything, but something awful happened to our cousin.”
The tone of her voice made Daemon refrain from retorting sarcastically to that, her demeanour sounding off alarm bells in his head. Still he did not understand why ever for Rhaenys had come here with that information and it did not really matter at the moment, he needed to go to his brother.
“Whatever it is, does not matter anymore. She… Aemma is…” He could not bring himself to say the word. “Rhaenyra finally fell asleep. I will go see Viserys now.”
“I will stay here then. I’ll sent someone to fetch you if she wakes up.”
“Alright.” Daemon agreed despite his distrust in letting Rhaenyra in her delicate state alone with Rhaenys.
Sadly they were way past that familial bond they used to share and now he was well aware his cousin did nothing without a purpose, especially when led by a greedy husband such as Corlys. But he had little choice but to agree so he could go check on his brother. It was more dangerous to let Viserys all alone in this moment than let Rhaenyra with their cousin.
Daemon gave a last look to his niece’s door before walking away and out of her chambers; thankfully Ser Harrold was already stationed outside.
“Leave the door open and keep an eye on them. And make sure to call me right away if Rhaenyra wakes up.” He ordered the older knight, low enough that Rhaenys would not hear from inside.
“Aye, my prince.” The kingsguard bowed his agreement, a sombre expression on his face letting Daemon know he was also affected by their Queen’s death.
Daemon walked quickly through the corridors of Maegor’s holdfast towards the Queen’s apartments, the place eerily silent, servants and guards alike silent and sombre as the death, the closer he got the more he saw a few maids quietly crying in corners close to Aemma’s chambers. His cousin had been beloved by many in and out of the Red Keep, even if she was often absent and sequestered in her rooms thanks to all those pregnancies, she still made time to be a gentle and diligent queen.
She could have been a greater Queen that their grandmother, Daemon was sure, if only Viserys had given her the chance. Now it was too late.
He entered his cousin rooms and he almost stepped back again in shock when the all too familiar pungent smell of blood hit his nose; Daemon had not even entered the room the birth took place but still the smell was strongly wafting all the way to the antechamber. Clenching his jaw and doing his utmost to breath as little as possible, the way he learned to during his time in battlefields, Daemon walked forward and stepped into Aemma’s sleeping room.
Daemon almost left a sigh of relief in seeing Aemma’s body had already been taken away by the silent sisters but that relief was short lived when he saw the mess of blood and gore on the bed. Servants were already working on cleaning the room but like Rhaenys had said, there was indeed so much blood, on the bed, on too many sheets and even on the floor. The bed was a lost cause, Daemon was sure, there was no way to salvage it and by the corner of his eyes he saw a young maid throw a couple of sheets thoroughly soaked with blood into the fire of the hearth.
‘What the fuck happened here?’ He thought horrified by the sight in front of him. He saw many gory scenes during his travels through Essos and even on tournaments, and he knew enough to know the birthing bed was a bloody business but this looked more like the aftermath of a battle than simply a woman birthing a babe. Daemon looked over to the side and found his brother standing by the window, cradling a bundle close to his chest while looking down at the new-born and sniffling.
With a sneer Daemon wondered if that babe had been worth it, if Viserys was finally satisfied to have his wish granted. He wanted to ask that, he wanted to know if that babe’s life was more worth it than Aemma’s, he needed to know if his brother really thought his own wife mattered so little.
However, Daemon just clenched his jaw harder to avoid saying anything and balled his hands into fists, it would not do to fight with Viserys in a moment like this, not when anger and pain was boiling hot in his blood. So Daemon just turned away and walked out of there as quietly as he had entered it.
He walked quickly to the nursery, needing to see his daughter since she was still crying her heart out when he left for the tourney grounds, no matter his attempts or Camellia’s or the nursemaid, his Baela would just not stop crying. It was as if she had already being grieving their loss by the way she was so inconsolable. Daemon breezed past the kingsguard stationed outside the nursery and hurried to his daughter crib, now able to sigh in relief in seeing her asleep and tightly hugging her dragon egg; he brought a hand to her soft cheek and caressed it, his Baela’s warm skin soothing some of the anger and pain away.
The moment was interrupted when he heard crying, looking up he saw Camellia sat in the far corner with a tear-stained face looking pitifully at him. He frowned at her but did not say anything.
“I-I’m sorry.” She hiccupped. “For you loss, my prince. I’m sorry… Queen Aemma was a wonderful woman. A gentle soul.”
Daemon just hummed his acknowledgment before turning his attention back to his daughter. He carefully untangled her little arms from the dragon egg and picked her up, softly shushing when she whined in discontent but thankfully did not wake up; Daemon swayed with Baela for a little while to have some solace from the deepening hurt in his heart. His girl was a true balm to sooth him in a way no one else could.
“I have a task for you.” He said after a while, looking again at Camellia and she instantly perked up at that, standing up to approach him.
“Anything, my prince.” She said putting a hand on his arm.
“You have become close with Aemma’s personal maids, have you not?”
“Aye. They’re the only nice ones around here.” Camellia answered, thinking that was probably because of the woman they served. How could anyone orbiting around Queen Aemma not be as good and gentle as her?
“Then go talk to them. Discreetly.” Daemon emphasized the last word. “Found out what happened in that room. What went wrong, how my cousin died.”
Camellia frowned in confusion, what could have happened other than a birthing gone wrong? It was more than a common occurrence, especially in the case of the queen who struggled for years now to have a healthy pregnancy and birth a healthy babe. She wanted to ask why he was asking her to do that but the look on his face made her keep quiet and just nod in agreement. She had never saw pain nor sorrow grace her dragon prince’s eyes and it was a disconcerting thing to see it, it felt wrong to see such expressions in a man like Daemon Targaryen. And it pained her to know he was hurting.
“I’ll stay with Rhaenyra.” He said before turning to walk from the nursery. “Bring me some answers soon.”
“Of course, my prince. I’ll see it done.” Camellia said and then watched him leave, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
How she wished she was more than who she was, then she could stay by her prince’s side in this dark sad time, if she was part of the family she could then openly grieve the loss of the queen. Camellia shook her head, this was not the time to think about that, her prince gave her a task and she needed to see it done. Besides she was now also curious to know what had happened, why her prince was even suspecting something else might have happened to the queen.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra fell asleep into a nightmare the previous day and woke up to find what happened was not simply a dream, it was not a nightmare made by her imagination. She was living the nightmare. Her muña was gone, dead after birthing a babe that barely lived a whole day. It was all wrong. Everything was just wrong and falling apart around her in broken pieces. Rhaenyra felt herself breaking into tiny little pieces every time she remembered she would never again see her muña.
Any other time, Uncle Daemon’s presence would have soothed her, comforted any fear, chased away any hurt but not this time. This time nothing could make the excruciating pain stop, it would not go away, not ever for as long as her muña remained dead. Rhaenyra had little memory of the time her papa Baelon died, his funeral just a blur of images from a time her mind was too young to properly retain memories but the pain from the loss did remain, lingering somewhere deep in her mind.
Now though, the hurt and the grief was ten thousand times worse, now Rhaenyra was old enough to understand and remember every single moment, every single feeling about all of this. Each minute branded in her mind and heart. Even if she went through the hours in a haze, eyes unfocused and mind adrift.
Rhaenyra did not cry ever since waking up, thoughts too scattered, feeling lost and alone. Despite the struggle in chewing and swallowing, she allowed her kepus to feed her some bits and pieces of food, not really feeling the taste of anything. Then she let her maids bathe her, dress her up and get her all ready for the funeral, her body almost limp in their hands. Eyes looking at nothing, seeing nothing, mind barely even registering any words.
When they were done, Uncle Daemon came back into the room and sent them away. He sat at her side on the foot of the bed and picked her hand into his.
“It is almost time, Rhaenyra.” He said rubbing her palm with his thumb. “I still have to get Caraxes but I’ll be back in time to ride with you and my brother, alright?”
Those words finally pulled her from the state she has been in for hours and she jerked her head to look up at him.
“No.” She said with finality. “Syrax will light th-the… Muña’s…”
“Rhaenyra.” Uncle Daemon said with a sad expression when she failed to say the words, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have to do it.”
“I do!” Rhaenyra exclaimed angrily but tears once again sprung up to her eyes. “Muña wanted me to be strong. She made me promise… She… I have to be… I…”
“I’m sorry, little love.” Her kepus pulled her to his chest and she gladly sank into him, sobs wrecking her body while tears soaked his doublet. “I am so very sorry, Rhaenyra.”
Like before, her kepus hugged her tight and allowed her to cry all she needed to, rubbing a hand up and down her back until she calmed some.
“I promised her, kepus.” She whispered into his chest. “I promised to be her brave girl no matter what.”
“You are, Rhaenyra.” Uncle Daemon said with such conviction she almost believed it. “Aemma would… She was always proud of you for that.”
“I have to do this. It has to be me.” Rhaenyra said determined, no matter the pain, no matter how much she just wanted to hide under the blankets and pretend none of this was happening.
She had promised her muña to be her brave girl, to always fight and be strong. Rhaenyra would never ever break that promise.
--
The procession through the streets of the capitol was the grimmest of affairs, the most sorrowful the city had ever been since Good Queen Alysanne’s death. The only sounds filing the air were that of the sept’s bell tolling over and over, of the horses and wheelhouses trudging on the ground. The smallfolk threw flowers whenever the carriage carrying the queen and the infant passed by.
She was rarely seen but she was still loved by her people all the same. Queen Aemma had strived to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps and tried to help the struggling smallfolk whenever she could. And that’s how the people would always remember her, as a gentle and loving queen; they did not care like the high lords and the king if she was unable to birth children. All they cared about was that she did try to help them in those short years as queen, sometimes more than the king himself.
Lords and ladies followed just as silently in the procession to the cliff where the queen would be burnt as was the Targaryen tradition. Their opinions and assumptions were kept to themselves for the moment, though some were unable to conceal the expressions of their true feelings and thoughts.
King Viserys and his family, daughter, brother and cousin waited in the wheelhouse while the queen’s and heir’s bodies were arranged on the pyre. Once Ser Ryam came to tell them all was ready, the four Targaryen exited the carriage and walked ahead, the rest of the people following behind. They all stood still looking at the bodies on the pyre, silently praying and paying their last respects to the queen.
Rhaenyra closed her eyes and reached into her bond with Syrax, as her kepus her taught her earlier, instantly feeling her golden girl sharing her pain. A moment later a sorrowful screech filed the air, a dragon song to express its rider’s loss, golden scales reflected the sunlight while the dragon descended from the sky; a dragonkeeper already positioned between the dragon and the people to act as buffer.
Syrax was not close as big as Caraxes or Meleys but Rhaenyra knew her girl was capable enough for this, her fire certainly strong enough by now at how steadily she kept growing. And she was so glad to see and feel her golden girl close to her, Rhaenyra’s heart felt soothed a little for the first time since the previous day, as if Syrax was absorbing her pain and easing her hurt.
“They are waiting for you.” Uncle Daemon’s voice pulled her away from her musings.
His hand was a comforting weight on her shoulder, somewhat grounding her straying mind so she instinctively leaned into his legs and almost rested her head on his waist. The way he said those words making Rhaenyra think he might be talking about the bodies on the pyre and not the people gathered around. It was so hard for her to think of the sight before her as anything other than that, not her muña or a brother she never even saw, just unknown dead bodies.
How could she ever think of Aemma Targaryen as anything else but the bright loving mother she had been?
Rhaenyra looked over at her father who was standing a few paces to the side, away as much as possible from everyone, as if all by himself and uncaring to be by their side, by her side, lost in his own grief. She did not even saw him before it was time for them to get into the carriage to come here, from the day before until now he never cared to come to her, to console her, to hug her, to say something. A father should have done that for his daughter but he did not. The spark of resentment from the last moons settled deeper in Rhaenyra’s heart
“Was father finally happy in the few hours my brother lived?” Rhaenyra wondered out loud before she could hold her tongue, eyes trained on the weak and pitiful image her father made.
“We will never know. It does not matter now anyways.” Uncle Daemon said, tone of voice sounding lifeless and when she looked up Rhaenyra saw his eyes slightly teary and red.
She sighed and closed her eyes, resting her forehead into his side for a moment, trying to have courage for what she must do. Opening her eyes again, Rhaenyra straightened up and with a last look towards her father, whispered the true she had always feared, the true that haunted her ever since becoming old enough to understand it:
“I will never be a son.”
Rhaenyra looked back to the pyre and then stepped forward, steeling herself to fight against the tears and the wish to fall to the ground, to scream and cry and join her muña wherever she was now. In a surprise steady tone, voice loud and strong she exclaimed the last word she would ever say in her muña’s presence, the word that would make this all real, that would turn a part of her heart into ashes
“Dracarys!”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Daemon was once again lurking behind the walls of the Red Keep, secretly watching the small council gathered for a late night session. Only a day had passed since Aemma’s funeral, her ashes not even cold yet, and the vultures were already circling around to pick at Viserys’ bones.
He sneered when Hightower came into his field of vision, the little holes in the wall and the almost sheer tapestry hiding that part of the wall allowing him to somewhat see inside of the room. They all waited patiently for the King to arrive for a few more minutes before the doors opened again and his brother walked in, the councilmen all standing up and bowing their heads in respect.
“Where’s Rhaenyra?” Viserys asked after sitting on his chair.
A question that surprised Daemon seeing as so far his brother had not cared to look after his grieving young daughter. Viserys did as he always has done in situations like these, holed himself up in his rooms and selfishly pretended no consequences were happening for anyone else but him, pretended he was the only one suffering. Daemon was glad though the cunt of a Hand did not bother Rhaenyra as well.
“Your Grace… This is the last thing any of us wish to discuss at this dark hour but I consider the matter urgent.” The Hightower said in his slick voice, false concern dripping from every word.
“What matter?” His brother asked and Daemon wanted to know the same, wary of whatever it is the vermin needed to discuss that could not wait a few more days.
“That of your succession.” Otto replied earning the attention of everyone present, his words making Daemon want to get into that room and cave the man’s face in before he could continue on to again attempt in ruining Daemon’s life. “These recent tragedies have left you without an obvious heir.”
“The king has an heir, my Lord Hand.” He heard Corlys said sternly and although he could not see the Sea Snake he could easily imagine his face of indignation. The succession would always be a sore spot for the Velaryon lord.
“Despite how difficult this time is, Your Grace…” The Hand continued as if one of the council members had not said a word, as he so loved to do. “I feel it important the succession be firmly in place for the stability of the realm.”
“The succession is already set.” Lord Strong was the next to attempt reasoning with whatever nonsense Hightower was trying to pull this time, Daemon detected just a hint of irritation in the man’s voice. “By precedent and by law.”
“Shall we say his name?” Lord Corlys asked almost mockingly, Daemon finally saw the man when he sat on his chair on the opposite side of Viserys and the prince almost scoffed at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Daemon Targaryen.”
“If Daemon were to remain the uncontested heir, it could destabilize the realm.” The disgusting Grandmaester said as always in cahoots with the Hand.
Daemon honestly could not understand what destabilization could possibly take place by him being heir and possibly ascending the throne. Their grandsire set a precedent for a reason, a reason he was sure Hightower was very satisfied with seeing as it gave him a puppet to control, so whatever was he aiming for with this discussion? Other than trying to somehow put Daemon aside, that is.
“The realm? Or this council?” Lord Corlys retorted with sarcasm, the only one brave enough to say his true thoughts and opinions, at least in that aspect he could appreciate the man.
“No one here can know what Daemon would do were he king but no one can doubt his ambition.” Hightower said unbothered to voice his opinion of a prince thanks to Viserys years of encouragement. And again Daemon wished he could storm in and sate Dark Sister bloodlust gutting that hypocritical vermin from head to toe. “Look at what he did with the gold cloaks. The City Watch is fiercely loyal to him, an army 2000 strong.”
“An army you gave him, Otto.” His brother said with surprising exasperation. “I named Daemon as Master of Law but you said he was a tyrant. As master of coin you said he was a spendthrift that would beggar the realm. Putting Daemon in command of the City Watch was your solution!”
“A half-measure, Your Grace.” Otto returned to his soft speaking voice. “The truth is, Daemon should be far away from this court.”
“Daemon is my brother.” Viserys cut in the man’s word, tone serious and expression darkening, a reaction and defence of him that surprised Daemon. And almost spark new hope in him but he knew better by now. “My blood. And he will have his place at my court.”
“Let him keep his place at court, my King.” Septon Eustace piped in making Daemon sneer. He did not understand his grandsire and now Viserys insistence in having a septon sit a Small Council sessions, this was no place for those religious cunts. “But if the gods should visit some further tragedy on you, either by design or by accident…”
“By design?” Viserys interrupted him, taken aback by the man’s choice of words, and the other members aside from Hightower and the Grandmaester also looked at the septon with surprise and confusion. That implication and near accusation did not surprise Daemon at all. “What are you saying? My brother would murder me, take my crown? Are you?!” The king asked in aggravation and when there was no answer, he scoffed. “Please… Daemon has ambition, yes, but not for the throne. He lacks the patience for it.”
Daemon chuckled at that, Viserys’ defence of him as weak as anything else he did when it came to his brother. It was no shock for him to know that was what Viserys thought, though it was unexpected to know his brother actually knew he had no true desire for the throne; how long would that last before Hightower’s words poisoned his perception remained to be seen.
“The gods have yet to make a man who lacks the patience for absolute power, Your Grace.” Those words were the most genuine Daemon ever heard Otto be, the closest he heard the man confess to his own sin.
“Under such circumstances it would not be an aberration for the King to name a successor.” Grandmaester Rucinter quickly said before anyone could react to the Hand’s words. “After all, that was the solution your grandsire chose. Twice.”
“Well, who else would have a claim?” Lord Strong asked, no doubt irritated by their attempt to trample all over the laws and rules.
“The king’s firstborn child.”
Daemon amusement and annoyance at this discussion died instantly, his world halting abruptly and he tightly clutched at his sword hilt. More than ever he wanted to slice Otto into tiny little pieces, for daring to bring Rhaenyra into this; hot fury spread through Daemon and made him see red. Caraxes roared somewhere deep in the pit’s caves in response to his rider’s anger.
“Rhaenyra? A girl? No queen has ever sat the Iron Throne.” Lord Strong scoffed.
“That is only by tradition and precedent, Lord Strong.” The Grandmaester retorted.
“If order and stability so concerns this council, then perhaps we shouldn’t break 100 years of it by naming a girl heir.” The master of law said truly aggravated now.
And wasn’t that the utmost true? Daemon mused bitterly, here they were feigning concern for the stability of the realm and yet at the same time attempting to undone the precedent the Old King set exactly to avoid any conflicts, to avoid war. It was just so blatant the little game the Hand and his lackeys were playing, how could no one but Daemon see right through it?
“Daemon would be a second Maegor or worse.” Hightower said, really agitated for the first time that night and Daemon grinned seeing the man always lose his cool whenever the matter concerned him. “He is impulsive and violent. It is the duty of this council to protect the king and the realm from him… I’m sorry, Your Grace, but that is the truth as I see it and I know that others here agree.”
“I will not be made to choose between my brother and my daughter.” Viserys said.
It was more than unsurprising to hear Otto’s opinions of him, the man unbothered in freely spilling his venomous words against a Prince of the blood, and it was just as unsurprising for Daemon that his brother chose to say nothing to defend him. His seemingly unwillingness to bend to these men’s wishes and attempt to make him chose between members of his family as weak as anything else.
Daemon scoffed at this utterly preposterous spectacle and turned on his heel to walk away, he had more important things to do than to stay listening to this nonsense.
“My wife and son are dead! I will not sit here and suffer crows that come to feast on their corpses!” Viserys loud voice echoed in the walls of the tunnel and Daemon was almost glad to hear his brother aim his fury at someone else that wasn’t him.
He swiftly walked through the many twists and turns of Maegor’s secret tunnels until he reached his destination, pushing aside the heavy stone so he could step into a dark corridor close to the nursery. Although he had left Baela with his niece hours before, his daughter only able to find solace in Rhaenyra’s presence and Rhaenyra only able to fall asleep without some tea assistance easier with her little cousin by her side, Daemon had forgotten to take the dragon egg along.
Daemon had been so worried the damned thing would turn to stone that now he made sure it was with Baela at all times; too many moons passed and no sign of the egg hatching anytime soon. Entering the nursery he was surprised by his redbird there, she was supposed to have stayed with the girls alongside Baela’s wetnurse and Rhaenyra' caretaker.
“What happened?” He asked frowning at the way she was hugging herself and swaying on her feet, intensely looking at the floor. “What is it? Are the girls alright?”
“She was cut open.” Camellia whispered not looking at him, clearly in a shocked state. “They cut her open.”
“What? Who was cut open? What are you talking about?”
“Queen Aemma.” She answered and looked at him, eyes red and puffy from crying. “They… They cut her open to take the babe out.”
“Wh-what?” Daemon stepped back as if physically punched by those words, not wanting to believe that. They wouldn’t do such thing with the Queen. Viserys wouldn’t… ‘But wouldn’t he really?’ a dark voice whispered in Daemon’s head. “Who said that?”
“I stumbled on one of the maids that were there.” Camellia explained, hugging herself tighter. “She left with the others but forgot something and had to come back. It was luck I was passing by the servants’ quarters.”
“Did she told why her and all these women suddenly decided to leave?” He asked seriously, the anger from the day before in discovering half of Aemma’s personal maids simply gone haven’t subsided yet.
“No. She almost didn’t tell me anything.” She looked at him again, fearful. “She looked really scared, like she was running and not just leaving. She only told me what happened after I threatened her.”
“Hm.” Daemon tapped his fingers against Dark Sister’s hilt, mind wildly going through too many thoughts. “What did she say happened exactly?”
“Not much… She just told me that the babe was in breach, no way for the queen to push him out anymore.” Camellia’s lower lip trembled and she looked away, tears blurry her vision over imagining that horrifying image all over again. “The maesters advised the King about a procedure in cases like this… The King agreed and then… Then they had to pin Queen Aemma down while the maesters cut her belly open to get the babe out.”
Daemon felt bile rise in his throat when the realization of the true lengths Viserys would go to fulfil his desire dawned on him. Whatever kind of monster had his brother turned into?
Instead of staying and asking for more information, to try to know if there was still time to get to the maid and force her to tell him everything, Daemon turned and hurriedly left the nursery. He needed to leave, the cursed walls of the castle closing in on him fast, he needed out before his instincts to harm and destroy won. He needed to be far away from this keep right now before he actually did become a kinslayer.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
‘I thought you might go to him, offer him comfort.’ The talk with her father earlier that night echoed non-stop in Alicent’s mind.
She looked at her reflection on the mirror, a young girl playing dress-up with her mother’s gown looking back at her. Alicent had not minded her father’s constant orders for her to dress more decently these past moons, almost all of her wardrobe being replaced by her mother’s dresses and brand new ones her father had commissioned for her.
She had liked the feel of being pretty in those grown-up dresses, after that disgusting encounter with Prince Daemon she desperately needed the distraction, something to take her mind away from all the insecurities and fears that encounter caused. And it was also Alicent’s way to show that desom the proper highborn lady he had lost with his wretched tendencies.
But now she was unsure of what to feel after what her father had asked of her.
Alicent could not ever have imagined her father would ask such a thing, be bold enough to want such a thing. Much less to risk put her in a delicate and dangerous position, to risk her reputation like this. She knew his ambition to become more important, to be the powerful man his status as second born never allowed him. And Alicent did paid close attention to everything that by she knew something was afoot between her father and the maesters, something to better the real she was sure but still could not imagine what that might possibly be.
Was this the answer to that question? She wondered still intently looking at herself in the mirror, the dark green almost black dress shining from the candles light. She was perceptive and intelligent enough to understand the implication behind her father’s words, what his intention with that order was.
However, the more important question was she capable of this? Could she truly go through with doing what her father wished? She would be risking her reputation, risking besmirching herself and allowing her family to be dragged through the mud if anyone was to find out. But no one would ever found out, would they? She knew her father would make sure of that, would make sure to protect her and their position in court. And if she did as he asked she would all but ensure their standing would be elevated because Alicent knew what her father truly intended in sending her late at night to the King.
Queen Aemma was gone, leaving the king with no son, no heir and only one child, a daughter who mattered little in the grand scheme of things. Soon enough the King would have to think of marrying again, to have his heir, to secure his throne.
If Alicent did as her father asked, if she went and comforted King Viserys in this most distressing and painful moment, then maybe she could be the one to marry and provide the king with what he needed. Maybe her father was taking such a big risk just so he could give her a crown. Make her, Alicent Hightower, a Queen. There was no greater standing in court than that.
But could she do this though? Was she courageous enough for this? Could she be this daring? Would she even succeed?
Prince Daemon’s look of scorn and disgust flashed in her mind, Alicent hugged herself and swallowed dryly. She was just a second son’s daughter, the little companion to a sick dying king, a disregarded lady-in-waiting, that was too little to turn her into a real prospect to be considered by the King. Even if she did a good job in consoling him, be a good company in his time of need, there was no guarantee King Viserys would throw sense away just to choose a most improper choice for a bride.
The risk was too high and a possible fall would mean dead for certain, Alicent mused in a shaking breath digging her fingers hard into the flesh of her arms. ‘But if you succeed the rewards are higher and greater than anything you could ever dream of.’ A voice eerily similar to her father’s whispered in her mind, dark, tempting and inviting.
King Viserys was no Daemon Targaryen for sure but he was still a Targaryen, more handsome than half the men in court and throughout the realm. Otherworldly silver hair and violet eyes. He was no gallant knight, not fearsome warrior but he was a King. What was any of those measly tittles and traits compared to being a King? There was no greater power on this earth than that of a King's authority, there was no more powerful man than the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
‘If I play my role right, if I do good then I could be by his side. I could become his Queen.’ Alicent thought, wide brown eyes sparkling at her in the mirror, and her resolve was settled then.
For what else could compare to being a Queen? Nothing. And if she succeed then she could be the right queen the realm went too long without, a faithful woman of the right gods, a proper lady of the highest breeding.
Alicent could be what her ancestor Ceryse could not. She would be, even if sacrifices has to be made for her to achieve that. She did not have a crown yet but Alicent just knew she was a worthy Queen.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra absentmindedly walked around the grand table of the Small Council chamber, distractedly pouring wine into the men’s cups, not caring which wine was it. She just wanted to get over this quickly so she could go back to her rooms and hide away under her blankets as she had been doing for the last two days ever since she had to command her dragon to burn her muña’s body.
She has been so out of it these past days that she almost did not even register Uncle Daemon’s sudden absence from her bedside. Ever since muña’s death, her kepus had been a constant presence, he and Baela barely left her chambers but then this morning he was not there and he did not show at all before a council session was call for in the afternoon. Was he grieving somewhere else? And why? Did she became a burden to him too like she was to her father?
“Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share.” The Lord Hand’s voice interrupted her musing. “Last night, Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the Street of Silk to entertain officers of the City Watch and other friends of his.”
Rhaenyra frowned at that and looked at the Hand, trying to read his expression but unable to see anything else other than a thoughtfulness compassion. Why was he telling father that? But why was her kepus out and about in taverns when he should be here grieving with them?
“He toasted Prince Baelon…” The Lord Hand continued, intently looking at her father. “Styling him ‘the heir for a day.’ I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was, by all accounts a celebration.”
Rhaenyra felt the floor disappear from under her feet at those words. A celebration, Lord Otto said. A celebration. Her muña just died, his own cousin and Uncle Daemon was out celebrating? Why would he do this? How could he hurt her this way? He was her protector, her knight and hero. How could he do that? How could he be just like her father, uncaring of her, betraying and hurting her? Rhaenyra squeezed the pitcher of wine tightly, fighting the tears welling in her eyes, fighting the wish to scream her hurt out.
Why was everyone around her always hurting her? Why everyone always abandoned her? What was so wrong with her that she would be left all alone like this, always with no one by her side? She was just a child, how could the adult people in her life, her family, the people she love most, always trample all over her heart this way? It was not fair. It was wrong.
It was a nightmare she seemed unable to wake up from.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon was nursing a glass of wine, head slightly pounding with a lingering headache from the indulgences of last night. He had not intended to indulge, since leaving the keep he only wanted to escape and hide away behind his usual armor of the Rogue Prince; he joined his men on the streets for the day to sate his desire for bloodshed and then paid for their entertainment at night as recompense for the great work they were doing. Daemon kept mostly to himself, the revelry around him just a buzz in the back of his mind.
However, after toasting to the nephew he never even got to see, to that little boy who should have replaced him and to finally give peace to their family at last. It all came crashing down on Daemon. The loss of his cousin. The horror she lived in her last minutes alive. The destruction his brother so willingly wreaked upon their family.
It was too much. Too painful. Daemon did not know how to handle any of this. He had never learned how to. So he did what he always do in such cases, he drank himself into oblivion, he fought some faceless people for no reason other than the spilling of blood and then ended up in some dirty corner of Flea Bottom.
The quiet of the night was interrupted when a pageboy knocked on his door before opening the door a little but not daring to enter his chamber.
“Prince Daemon?” The boy asked, voice weak and almost trembling.
“What is it?”
“The King has summoned you. To the Throne Room.”
Daemon sighed loudly and closed his eyes. Has Viserys already been made aware of the drunken ruckus he caused on some dingy tavern in the bowels of the city? Whatever did that matter now of all times? Huffing in annoyance, he put the cup down and stood up. After fastening Dark Sister to his waist belt, Daemon left his chambers, almost knocking the pageboy over on his way out.
Walking into the Throne Room, Daemon instantly knew whatever tall tale Otto had spun about him this time had been a really good one. Viserys seemed ready to go to war against him. Well, so was Daemon.
“You cut the image of the conqueror, brother.” Daemon said flippantly coming to stop some paces away from the throne, glancing at the four Kingsguard stationed protectively there.
“Did you say it?” Viserys asked in a dull almost lifeless voice.
Say what? Daemon wondered in confusion before realization dawned on him. He did not want to believe that was what this was about because that would mean someone inside Mysaria’s brothel was a fucking traitor. Someone he trusted has turned on him.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He said reflexively, unconvincing even to his own ears, and tried to gather his thoughts quickly before this situation got out of control way too fast.
“You will address me as Your Grace, or I will have my Kingsguard cut out your tongue.” His brother said drily. Perhaps things were already out of control. And bad. “The heir for a day. Did you say it?”
“We must all mourn in our own way, Your Grace.” Daemon answered, genuinely so, because no matter whatever way that cunt made what he said sound like, Daemon had not said that in a mean way or in mocking, it was just the simple truth. The way his little nephew would be remembered as.
“My family has just been destroyed. But instead of being by my side, or Rhaenyra’s, you chose to celebrate your own rise!” Viserys screamed angrily and oh how that was the wrong thing to say. “Laughing with your whores and your lickspittles!”
“Our family was destroyed by your hand!” Daemon exclaimed, letting his anger and hatred for what his brother had done surge to the surface. “How could you, Viserys? She was family, our cousin, your wife and you ordered her gutted like a fucking pig.”
Viserys eyes widened in shock clearly not expecting him, or anyone else for that matter, to know what took place in the queen’s birthing bed.
“You do not know what you speak of.” He replied, anger faltering for a moment. “I had to make a decision. A king must make hard choices. You could never understand.”
“No, I could not.” Daemon looked him up and down, the corner of his lips forming into an almost sneer. “I would never slaughter the woman I love as if she meant nothing. As if she was just a breeding worthless cow.”
“Shut you mouth! Shut your fucking mouth!” Viserys screamed and stood up, knuckles whitening at how tight he was squeezing Blackfyre. “You know nothing of what I had to do. The decisions I had to take. You are just an irresponsible, selfish and spiteful man-child who does nothing but cause headaches and hurt to this family.”
Daemon took a step back stunned by his brother’s words. He thought he was past being surprised and cut by Viserys low opinions of him, by his disregard and lack of love but it seemed his brother still had some left to hurt him with.
“You have no allies in court but me!” He continued, enraged in a way Daemon never seen him before. “I have only ever defended you! Yet everything I’ve given you, you’ve thrown back in my face!”
“You’re only ever tried to send me away!” Daemon snapped out of his shock, indignation surging in his blood just as hot and anger. “To the Vale. To the City Watch. Anywhere but by your side! Almost three years you have been king, yet not once have you asked me to be your Hand!”
“Why would I do that?” Viserys asked genuinely confused at the question but also mocking.
Oh never was it as tempting as now to slice Dark Sister through his brother and be fucking done with all this shit.
“Because I’m your brother! That was what father taught us, that was what he would have wanted.” He said seething. “Don’t you ever fucking remember what he always told us? The blood of the dragon runs thick. Don’t you ever understood what that means?”
“Why do you cut me so deeply then? Huh?”
“I’ve only ever spoken the truth. I see Otto Hightower for what he is.”
“An unwavering and loyal Hand?”
“A self-serving, greedy cunt.” Daemon returned, beyond aggravated by his brother stupidity. “A man seeking nothing but power to himself at the cost of our family’s blood and legacy.”
“Otto Hightower is a more honourable man than you could ever be.” Viserys bit back coolly.
“He just strings you along, Viserys. He doesn’t protect you… I would.”
“From what?” His brother scoffed not listening to what he was saying.
“Yourself.” Daemon answered the disappointing truth he learned so long ago. “You’re weak, Viserys. And that council of leeches knows it. They all prey on you for their own ends.”
He watched his brother sit back down on the imposing throne of swords their ancestor build for their family, slouching and breathing out a heavy sigh.
“I have decided to name a new heir.” Viserys said with a blank expression.
“I’m your heir.” Daemon stupidly replied, heart lurching to his throat with what that implied.
Would Viserys truly do this, follow Hightower’s advice and endanger Rhaenyra just to spite him?
“Not anymore.” His brother said with finality making Daemon’s whole world tilt on its axis. “You are to return to Runestone at once. Your wife needs her husband and heir with her, not here. You are to do so without quarrel by order of your King.”
Daemon stood there silent, looking at the man who used to be his brother but was now just a stranger. Was he ever anything but? He pondered unsure and afraid of the answer.
Daemon wished he could fight back, plead if necessary for Viserys not to do this. Not because of his lost position, no, but for what doing this meant for Rhaenyra. It would put her right in the centre of the snake pit. It would paint a target on her back.
But looking at his brother’s uncaring expression, unbothered or not even thinking about the consequences of the actions he’s been taking this last few days would do to their family, something irrevocably broke in Daemon. This was pointless, the truth dawned on him like a douse of dragonflame. All of this, all this time, have always been pointless.
There has never existed any hope for him and Viserys. They have always been lost to each other.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra was huddle up in the corner of the big settee close to the hearth, roaring fire warming her to the very soul even though she still only felt cold inside, one of her Valyrian books of tales opened on her raised knees while she mindlessly read the words. Then she heard a sound of stone moving against stone and when looking over towards her bed, she watched that secret door moving. Rhaenyra tensed in seeing her uncle step out of the dark passage hidden behind her wall, mind still reeling over the news the Hand shared that afternoon.
It was late into the night already and she was unable to sleep, those words paying non-stop in her head, her mind eye imaging Uncle Daemon carelessly celebrating in some dirty tavern while she has been here suffering.
“Hey, little love.” He said with a small smile.
“Did you do that?” Rhaenyra snapped, throwing the book on the floor. “Were you out celebrating my mother’s death?”
“No, Rhaenyra, I wasn’t celebrating anything.” Daemon answered exasperated she could have believed anything Otto Hightower had said of him.
“Lord Otto said…”
“Lord Otto is a fucking cunt who will say anything to put everyone I love against me!” He exclaimed making Rhaenyra flinch at his tone.
Daemon let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to calm himself, Rhaenyra was not the one at fault, she did not deserve his anger. Fortunately his voice was not loud enough to have alerted her sworn shield of his presence.
“I’m sorry, princess.” He said in a lower voice and walked to sit on the settee, not too close not to crowd her. “I was out, yes, I needed some time away from here.”
“Why?” Rhaenyra questioned, still warily looking at him.
“I needed space to think. Some distraction from…” He stopped himself before revealing the truth that could literal break his precious niece. Daemon sighed again before choosing a different but not less truthful explanation. “Aemma was my cousin and I loved her. She has been around for more years than you’ve been alive, Rhaenyra. It is hard for me to know she’s gone.”
That she died at the hands of the husband she trusted, he silently added.
“You should have stayed here with me.” She said in a small voice, looking away from him, pain all over her face. “Now father will make you leave. He was so mad after Lord Otto told him.”
“He already did.” Daemon whispered, shoulder sagging again in defeat. He felt so tired, he felt like he had lived ten years in less than a week.
“Please don’t go, kepus.” Rhaenyra pleaded looking at him with teary eyes, then scooted over to him, small arms encircling around his waist. “Please, kepus, don’t leave me here alone.”
“I have to, love. I can’t disobey the King’s command.”
Rhaenyra sobbed into his chest, tears wetting his tunic and Daemon tightly shut his eyes, hurting for seeing like this again. Angered at himself for causing her pain when she has more than enough of it already.
He wished he could explain properly, tell her the whole truth but how could he? He had fell into his old habit of being a careless, cold-hearted and a stupid man because the truth was too much for him. Daemon never had the chance to learn how to grieve a loss, how to handle painful feelings. How to deal any sort of feeling. He did not know how to cope and so he defaulted to the only way he could to be able to push through it all. Sadly that always had consequences to people other than himself, now more than ever.
“What about Baela?” His niece asked after her crying stopped some and she looked up at him again. “Did he sent her away too? Will you take her away?”
Viserys had. And Daemon would obey.
But looking at his niece, teary and broken eyes, nothing but pain lacing her features Daemon could not possibly bring himself to do that.
He could leave, he would leave as his brother so wished but to also take Baela and leave Rhaenyra truly alone would be a sort of cruelty he could never do to his niece. Viserys only wanted him far away, he knew his brother would not really care if Baela stayed or not once Daemon was gone. Besides he did not wish to put his daughter through that kind of life, going from one place to next, never sure what tomorrow would bring, never belonging anywhere. Adrift and utterly alone.
“No, I won’t.” Daemon answered, mind made up. “But without me here people will try to send her away. Back to Runestone, to the Royces.”
“I’ll protect her, kepus.” Rhaenyra said with conviction, still naïve of the darkness lurking at every corner despite recent events. “I’ll protect us both.”
Daemon smiled sadly before pulling her into his lap, tightly hugging her and breathing her in for what would be the last time in gods knew how long.
“I’ll be back, little love.” He whispered into her hair. “But while I’m away, do as your mother told you and be brave, alright?”
“I will, kepus. For me and Baela.”
How could a child of eight be more trustworthy with her naïve promises than his adult brother ever was as the King of their continent? How could Rhaenyra have more conviction and strength than her father ever did? It was all Aemma’s work and her work alone, Daemon was sure of it.
And perhaps it was a good thing she would become the heir, that she might become a queen. Their first ruling Queen to sat the Iron Throne.
--
Daemon entered the royal nursery, approaching his daughter's her crib – not to pick her and take her as was the plan but to say goodbye as he always had to say to the people he cared – he found her still wide awake, chewing a mouthful of her favourite stuffy toy. He smiled down at Baela and the Caraxes looking toy, heart constricting inside his chest.
“It will be while ‘till I can take you flying on him again, little hatchling.” He whispered, bringing his fingers to caresses her soft cheek and watch her pull the toy away to babble and look up at him with big brown eyes. “Perhaps by then you will already have your own dragon to mount instead.”
Daemon looked over at the pale green egg beside her and prayed to the Fourteen Flames that it would hatch soon, his girls would be better protected with two dragons than just one.
“I’m afraid you might not even know who I am when I get back.” He said huffing a humourless laugh wondering if all Targaryen men were bound to be the same shitty father’s to their children. “I’ll be back… Then I’ll teach you how to be the next Visenya of our family. You will be a dragonriding warrior like your namesake, wont’ you?”
His Baela babbled and smiled widely at him, then raised her small arms asking to be picked up.
“Be there for Rhaenyra while I cannot, yes?” Daemon kissed her temple, smelling in her sweet babe smell and closed his eyes take her in, to burn the memory of her in his mind to get through the next endless days of loneliness.
Daemon sighed for that was not Baela’s responsibility, it was his but he fucked it all up as he always did. Most of all it was her own father’s responsibility but Viserys was weak and nothing but a puppet king in the making that did not care to rip their family to shreds. She would be alone, both of them would, his girls alone while the vultures and crows and leeches came for them.
“But I’ll be back, for you and Rhaenyra. I promise.”
With one last kiss to her head, Daemon put her back inside her crib and left.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
After buying passage to Pentos for his little bird in a good ship with a decent crew, Daemon left the docks and headed towards the barracks of the City Watch.
He knew Camellia would be thrown out of the keep the second he left, if Viserys himself did not see to it right away, Otto would make sure it happened very quickly. Then what good was she to him then, nowhere close to his daughter and niece to keep an eye on them for him, send him word if necessary? No, better to have her warming his bed then for her to become a worthless rat slumming around in Flea Bottom.
Besides, he still had a couple of useful enough people inside the Red Keep, and many more outside of it, that could do the work for him.
Arriving at the barracks he called in a last minute meeting between his most trusted lieutenants and captains, and while waiting all of them to get back from their duties, Daemon devised how best to ensure he would not lose the loyalty of his City Watch. He need not worry about it though for when he told them the changes that would soon take place, his men were infuriated by the news, ready to fight on his behalf.
There would come a day they would have to fight but that day was not today.
Before leaving, Daemon tracked down Ser Harwin with a simple request, a message to his lord father so the man would do his best to put Ser Luthor in his place as the new Commander. Luthor Largent was the one man he could fully trust and count on. The one who would uncover whoever was the backstabbing traitor among their midst.
Daemon moved through the streets to the Dragonpit as inconspicuous as only him knew how to, no one sparing a single glance to him, he was just another unsavoury hooded man walking around. He easily got inside the pit without being detected, a skill he mastered years ago so he could sneak into Caraxes lair without no one trying to stop him. The dragon woke up from his slumber with a dissatisfied growl.
“I know, boy, I know.” He said patting Caraxes neck. “I too thought we would be staying longer this time.”
But his fucking brother and that fucking Hightower had to ruin things for him. His own fucking stupidity not helping matters at all either. Daemon started the process to saddle Caraxes angrily, being unnecessarily rough with his dragon who kept shaking his huge body and growling to show his dissatisfaction towards him.
“Going for a late night ride as well?” Rhaenys inquisitive voice interrupted his angry movements, his boy letting out a hiss of irritation at them both.
“No.” He answered not looking back at her.
He heard her enter the cave, steps approaching closer to him, as close as she could without spooking or angering Caraxes that was.
“You leaving?” She half asked, half confirmed at seeing his saddle packed with the few things he always took when going into exile. “Daemon, why are you leaving?” What happened?”
“Ask the fucking king if you so curious.” He snapped at her, too done to endure another round of this shit.
“I am asking you.” Rhaenys said in her most commanding voice, the one she used to use whenever he misbehaved too badly as a child. “What happened, Daemon?”
“He gutted Aemma like a fish! And exiled me again, that’s what fucking happened!” Daemon exclaimed loudly startling Caraxes, his boy stomping agitatedly and grumbling, sensing the tension and anger from his rider.
“Viserys ordered her killed.” He said more calmly, leaning his head into Caraxes scales and breathing in to compose himself. “He let the maesters cut her open to pull the babe out.”
“What?” Rhaenys asked incredulous, nervously chuckling and unable to believe that. “Viserys is many things, Daemon, I know that but he is no murderer. He cannot even be violent to save his hide.”
“No, his just a weak, idiotic, selfish piece of shit.” Daemon retorted and then turned around to look at her. “Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care.”
“Daemon…” His cousin tried to say but something in his eyes must have made her see that was the truth for she blanched in a second.
“Be sensible for once, Rhaenys, and do not tell this to Rhaenyra.” Daemon said in his own imperious tone, a threat just laying below the surface. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to go before the king decides to kill his kin again.”
Before she could protest in anyway, Daemon climbed on Caraxes and prompted his boy ahead, the dragon swiftly walking through the pit’s caves until they were out of the Dragonpit. With a last look at the Red Keep looming over in the distance, steeling his heart once more, closing himself deep inside the darkest parts of his soul, Daemon gave the command for his dragon to fly. Prince and dragon taking to the skies, flying once more away from home.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra sat on her bed against the plush pillows, with her little cousin sat between her legs and she protectively hugged Baela to her chest. It was just them now, abandoned and alone. But they would have to make do, Rhaenyra would make do. Bravely, as her mother wanted her to; not tonight though, tonight she would cry for all she had lost.
The princess’ moment of reprieve to freely feel and grieve in peace was interrupted when a knock sounded on her door.
“My Princess” Ser Harrold called out for her. “Are you still awake, Your Grace?”
With a sigh Rhaenyra laid Baela down on the bed , her half asleep little cousin whined discontentedly for the disturbance as well, and then got out of bed to see what her sworn shield wanted.
“What is it, ser?” She asked after opening the door, looking up at the Kingsguard.
“The Lord Commander is here for you, my princess.” He answered. “King Viserys wishes to see you.”
Rhaenyra pursed her lips unsure if now was a good time for her father to finally remember she still lived, if she could talk with him without having another breakdown with another disappointing member of her family. She looked back towards her bed where Baela had started softly whimpering, the perfect excuse to avoid her father.
“I’ll look after the little one, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold cut her thought short.
With another sigh, Rhaenyra straightened her back and tried to steel herself, then she walked past her antechamber and to where Ser Ryam awaited her. Luckily she was still wearing the dress she had worn to the council that afternoon, mourning black, for the Kingsguard did not lead her towards her father’s apartments but through the halls of the castle down to the cellars below the Red Keep.
The few people still milling around, also all wearing mourning black, send her curious and pitying looks that made Rhaenyra want to jump at them to gouge those pity eyes out of them. What good did their pity do while her muña suffered all these years? Weren’t they all celebrating her bleeding struggles just days before? She clenched her jaw and baled the skirts of her dress in her hands.
It was a long way down to the cellars deep below the keep, the chambers had been build huge so it could store the skulls of the dragons their family lost along the years. Why were they hidden away instead of proudly displayed for everyone to see their might Rhaenyra never understood. Arriving at the iron wrought doors, they entered the eerily silent and poorly illuminated cellars.
The first chamber was the biggest and housed almost ten dragon skulls: Queen Rhaenys’s dragon skull right in the centre in its own elevated shrine, her son’s and grandson’s Quicksilver down on the floor beside it. Then there was the skulls of the unknown dragons, the ones from the other dragons Aenar had crossed the Narrow Sea with that were as huge as Balerion’s; and some way smaller possibly from wild dragons that died before they could’ve be claimed. Then the next chamber was solely for Balerion’s skull, the shrine and the skull taking most of the space.
Her father was at the shrine, looking down and with one hand passing over the lit candles, almost touching their fire.
“Father.” Rhaenyra said after Ser Ryam stepped out to give them privacy.
“Balerion was the last living creature to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom.” Her father said looking up at the skull of the mount that was his for less than a year. “Its greatness and its flaws. When you look at the dragons, what do you see?”
“What?” She asked in confusion and then indignation flared up inside. “You haven’t spoken a word to me since the funeral, did even come to me before that and now you…”
“Answer me.” Viserys interrupted sounding almost irritated but quickly softened his features, continued in a more gentle voice. “It’s important. What do you see?”
Rhaenyra swallowed her desire to start crying again over the way her father had been acting, then she looked up at the huge dragon that represented everything House Targaryen was, the representation of all their ancestors accomplished, their family’s very legacy.
“I suppose I see us.” She replied after a minute of contemplation.
“Tell me.” Her father insisted, violet eyes expectantly looking at her.
“Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men.” Rhaenyra said what she knew so many across the realm thought of their family, the reason everyone believed they had got where they were now. “But they say that because of our dragons… Without them we’re just like everyone else.”
Her father nodded at her answer and Rhaenyra felt relieved, and almost happy, to see her answer was satisfactory to him.
“The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion.” Her father said with great conviction. “They’re a power man should never have trifled with. One that brought Valyria its doom. If we don’t mind our own histories, it will do the same to us.”
His words made Rhaenyra frown, not fully understanding whatever is it he was trying to say or teach her and not sure if she agreed with the little she did understand of it. Why was he even talking about this of all things? She wondered exasperated, there were more important things they should be discussing. King Viserys’ next words halted all her thoughts, finishing to upend her life for good.
“Targaryen must understand this to be King… or Queen.” He said, more serious than she ever saw him, her eyes going wide over the way he uttered the word queen looking so intensely at her. “I’m sorry, Rhaenyra. I have wasted the years since you were born wanting for a son.” Those words was all that she ever wanted to hear from her father for all the short years of her life but now it sounded spoiled in her ears. “You are the very best of your mother… And I believe it, I know she did, that you could be a great ruling queen.”
“Uncle Daemon is your heir.” Rhaenyra said reflexively, in denial of what was happening. She was just a girls, she could not be heir, that was the whole reason her muña bled for so long in an attempt to birth him a son.
“Daemon was not made to wear the crown.” Viserys retorted dismissively, as he often was of his brother. “But I believe that you are.” He added, words she longed to hear again sounding spoiled now. “This is no trivial gesture, Rhaenyra. A dragon’s saddle is one thing but the Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the realm.”
Then why was he putting such burden on her? Rhaenyra wondered, eyes blurry with unshed tears. Was it all just because of what her uncle said? Was her father only turning to her, proclaiming to believe in her, finally wanting her just because he was angry with his brother? Ever since being old enough to understand what went around her, Rhaenyra had wanted this from her father, his love, his attention, she wished and wished to be the child he had wanted. Now, when she finally has this, it all feels rotten.
“There is something else that I need to tell you. It might be difficult for you to understand, but you must hear it.” He continued, oblivious to the storm raging inside her, and she kept her eyes on him but the buzzing sound in her mind made it hard to fully register his words. “Our histories tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream.”
“What?” She interrupted, forcing her mind to slow down so she could understand what he was saying, for his words implied that the very foundation of her family’s history was not the actual true.
“Just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men.” Viserys said, praying his daughter could bear and understand the true as he once had when Jaehaerys share the secret with him, she needed to for now their house and the realm would depended on her and her line one day. “’Tis to begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds and whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this Great Winter comes, Rhaenyra, all of Westeros must stand against it.
And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark.” He explained what grandsire had explained to him not so long ago, then he drew Aegon’s dagger from its sheath on his waistbelt and deposited it on his girl’s small hand. “Aegon called his dream ‘the song of ice and fire’. This secret it’s been passed from King to heir since Aegon’s time. Now you must promise to carry it and protect it. Promise me this, Rhaenyra. Promise me.”
For a moment ever since his last babe with Aemma stopped breathing, less than a day after forcing him to take Aemma’s life in a vain attempt to save the boy, Viserys lost hope. He thought that he would be forced to finally have to share such important and precious secret with the plague of their family, a secret that was not for Daemon’s ears for he would never ensure House Targaryen thrived as it should.
His rogue of a brother was not worthy but his daughter, so young and lively and the future of his bloodline could be. Viserys had wasted enough time, now he knew Rhaenyra was the one he should teach and guide for this role; the last living and breathing piece of Aemma that remained to him.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The days leading up to Rhaenyra’s investiture as heir passed in a haze, her life was turned upside down and she had no time to digest all of the changes happening. The losses, the pain, the burden thrust upon her shoulder, that monumental duty. Rhaenyra felt more alone and lost than ever.
Her father was no true support, she had for a second hoped he finally would be but she was disappointed again. Aside from very aggravatedly but in a determined voice shutting down his small council complaints when he announced his decision, and explaining to her how would the investiture go, King Viserys kept spending most of his time locked in his rooms. Away from prying eyes, his responsibilities and away from his daughter.
A day before her investiture was to take place, Rhaenyra received a letter from the Vale. House Arryn was the very first house, from the ones that was not already present in the capitol, to send a raven with their renewed oaths of fealty to the King and his heir, the Lady of the Vale having personally written each word of it. Along with the sealed letter of Lady Jeyne, their aunt sent a personal note to Rhaenyra’s eyes only.
‘The Eyrie and the Vale weeps for the death of our Aemma, and my heart is broken by the loss of my sister. This is an irreplaceable loss we shall never fully heal from, dear niece. Westeros already seems darker without Aemma’s light and love in it. However upon receiving news of the King’s decision, I finally smiled despite the pain, for I know my sister’s memory and legacy will live through you in the greatest of ways. Unfortunately it came at a high cost but your mother would have wanted this, Rhaenyra. She would have been so very proud of you, her darling girl set to be our Queen. And wherever heaven she is resting at now, know that she smiles upon you and will protect you in all the trials to come. And know that we stand with you, whatever you need, whenever you need, call and we will come to you.
With love, your aunt.’
After reading the words, Rhaenyra had another fit of crying non-stop, all the memories and feelings and her new reality drowning her from the inside. It got so bad, Ser Harrold felt the need to intervene and called in a maester to give her sweetsleep.
When morning came and was time to get ready for the ceremony ahead, Rhaenyra’s eyes were still puffy and slightly red from all the crying; she would make a pitiful first impression as heir but she could not be angry at her aunt nor fault her. Now composed enough, she was able to read the letter again and truly take in each word and allow her heart to feel some hope she would not have to do this all alone.
Princess Rhaenys and Laena were the ones to come in after her bath to help with the clothes for the ceremony. A new dress, the most elegant she ever had, was commissioned for the occasion forcing a host of seamstress to do the work in record time, and the cloak used by papa Baelon on his own investiture altered to fit her small body. It was the one thing she demanded, the one thing she could actually have. Her mother was dead and her uncle gone. If a piece of cloth was the only thing Rhaenyra could have a solace for this moment then she would have it.
The coronet of Princess Rhaena Targaryen was picked from the dusted shelves of the vault with the family’s heirlooms for her to use this time since a new coronet to represent her new position would take longer to be made. Who had chosen it Rhaenyra did not know.
“Your mother would have been proud of this, of you.” Princess Rhaenys said, a hand on her shoulder and looking at her through the mirror.
Would she though? Rhaenyra wondered to herself, afraid of the answer. Her mother did after all waste all her years dying to give a son to the King so maybe that was what she wanted as well.
Rhaenyra kept those thoughts to herself and just forced a smile in gratitude but gave a more genuine one to her cousin Laena then watched them leave her chambers. Minutes passed by with Rhaenyra standing still in front of her mirror, judgingly looking at the image staring back at her, until Ser Harrold came announcing it was time.
Four of the knights of the Kingsguard, her own sworn shield as well as Ser Steffon, Ser Erryk and Ser Lorent, surrounded her in the walk to the throne room through the empty corridors of the keep. All of the important lords and ladies were gathered in the throne room awaiting her; they had come just for some fun time in a tournament but instead bore witness to a Queen’s funeral and a new Heir’s rise.
Rhaenyra straightened herself to her full height, putting her chin up in the petulant tilt that had so amused her mother and walked towards the lurking throne of swords in a confidence she did not actually felt.
She stopped right where the first swords started to make the throne, looking up at her father for a moment before respectfully bowing to him and then turning to the crowd once he gave a slight nod. Looking over a the huge crowd focused solely on her, Rhaenyra swallowed dryly in fear, withering on the inside. This was too much, too big for her.
She would bear it though, she must, for her mother so Queen Aemma's death could at least mean something.
The Lords Paramounts and Wardens of the realm that had come for the tournament were the first ones to line up to swear their oaths anew. Lord Rickon Stark, in the stead of his lord father, was the first to step towards her and then kneel in front of her with no hesitation. Such a strange thing to have people kneeling at her feet, Rhaenyra thought briefly, a thrilling feel sparkling deep inside for a second.
“I, Lord Rickon Stark, in the name of my father, the Warden of the North, promise the Starks will be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. House Stark pledges its fealty to them and we shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Lord Stark stood up and looked only at her, bowing his head to her before stepping back and going to stand beside his son; an action not missed by Otto Hightower. The other Lords Paramount knelt one by one and said the traditional words, with no modifications as the Stark heir had done, still their oaths were just as valid and to be honoured at all costs. Or so her father had explained to her. Next were the Lords of the more prominent and important houses, Lord Corlys Velaryon also showed no hesitation in kneeling before her and swearing his fealty. Others, like Lord Boremund Baratheon, Lord Tymond Lannister and Hobart Hightower could not claim the same.
The smaller houses and lesser lords did not necessarily need to take part in the ceremony, Lord Strong had explained to her, but they had an obligatory duty to honour their lieges’ oath. Some of the lesser lords present though still came and knelt before her, especially those from the Crownlands and the ones that resided closer to Dragonstone.
By the end of it, Rhaenyra could not anymore ignore the exhilarating feeling building in her chest from all of the deference paid to her. Not to some long awaited son. But her, a girl of eight now but the future woman that would one day rule over them all.
Her father’s words still lingered in the back of her mind in the midst of it all, the great responsibility Aegon the Dragon had left them a dark and ominous burden above her head.
Rhaenyra turned around again to face her father, the King, and hear his own oath that would seal her fate forever.
“I, Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Viserys I Targaryen small council in 105 AC:
Ser Otto Hightower – Hand of the King
Lord Lyman Beesbury – Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer
Lord Lyonel Strong– Master of Laws
Lord Corlys Velaryon - Master of Ships and Lord Admiral
Grandmaester Runciter
Ser Ryam Redwyne – Lord Commander of the Kingsguard
Notes:
Sooo whats your thoughts?!?!?!?!
If you liked it pls leave kudos&comments!!I almost skipped the birthing part cause it is just something so horrific to do to someone and very hard to write, but I decided to at least try and ofc I ended up writing only in Aemma's perspective because I could not physically do it in Viserys' 🙅🏾♀️
I apologize in case its not the best of scenes 😅
On that note: How exactly was Aemma supposed to be able give birth drugged out of her mind?!?!? Im no specialist but even in this medieval period a woman was not really given much or anything at all during birth. So yeah I totally do not believe in the series Mellos gave just enough milk of the poppy not to endanger the baby but he actually gave a big ass dose to risk both mother and child. Right before *that* happen, she seemed more than just tired but actually high as a kite 🤦🏾♀️💔
And I did not bother in exploring Viserys's reasonings because there's absolute no excuse, no acceptable explanation, nothing! But I do believe Aemma wanting this to be the last time weighted a lot in his decision 🙄Btw I'm choosing to stick with the assumption that what happened to Aemma was not broadcasted to anyone because only that explains Rhaenyra still looking up at her father and that bs behavior of hers. I refuse to believe she did know and went on to be so unbothered by it 🙅🏾♀️ Plus only that explains no mentions of Viserys' being a kinslayer cause that is what he is, period!!!
But here despite Viserys' and Otto's best efforts to keep it under wraps, one by one the necessary people will find out about it and the ripple effect that will have *chef's kiss* 🤭Daemon, Daemon, Daemon why such a mess baby?
Yes, it was wrong of him to go out drinking and all of that right after Aemma's death, there's no excuse to his choice and that's the only thing I fault him for ending up being exiled, he did deserve a punishment though not the harsh one Viserys' chose.
But I really see no harm in his toast or how he named Baelon, it was the truth and the way he talked sounded genuinely sorrowful and sad 🤷🏾♀️ So Rhaenyra will not linger too much about this cause she only cares about her mother and since he was not really celebrating her death, its forgivable. It wont be always like this though 🫣Any last thread connecting Daemon to Viserys is thoroughly burned alright. No coming back from this!!
Rhaenys knows what Viserys did, will she still want Laena marrying him? Corlys certainly will give zero fucks about it if it means getting his blood on the throne, I can tell you that much 🙅🏾♀️
It's "Alicent's shedding her masks" season folks and she will only go down hill from here 🤡
It was so annoying the way the series framed this whole situation, dont even get me started about this cause honestly 🤬 Are we truly mean to believe she had no idea what her father aimed for, what was the goal for visiting the king late a night? Give me a break. She was the best friend and apparently only friend of the princess made the freaking heir. She did have other choices besides following her father's orders if she really did not want to fo that, still she easily went along with his plan so nope I have zero sympathy for her situation despite the series attempts!!! It was her choice, she also wanted that marriage and also chose to play all innocent to make it stick with Rhaenyra, end of story 🙅🏾♀️
And if she did not seek Rhaenyra's help thinking Rhaenyra would be angry or whatever, well then that says it all about what Alicent really thought of her supposed best friend!!
At least book Alicent was a unapologetically self-serving, ambitious and righteous b* , series Alicent is just ugh 😤🤮Notice Baela's sensitiveness, that magical blood of the first men and valyrians is strong with this one 🤭
Ive no idea how a investiture is supposed to work and the series didn't explore it much, so bear with me and any nonsensical inaccuracies!!!
If youre interested for the story's visuals, here are the links:
https://br.pinterest.m/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-14/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenys-targaryen-velaryon/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/laena-velaryon/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/alicent-hightower/
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virgogeminipostsCharacters' ages at this point in the story:
Viserys - 28
Aemma - 23
Daemon - 24
Rhaenyra - 8
Otto - 35
Alicent - 17
OC Camellia - 16
Rhaenys - 30
Corlys - 50
Laena - 11
I guess that's all for now
If you wish to discuss more or have any doubts/questions, pls drop a comment 🙆🏾♀️See you in the next chapter 🥰
Kisses 😘
Chapter 16: Chapter Fifteen: 105 AC - Final Part
Notes:
Heellou there 🥰
Ik ik ik! Last chapter was supposed to have been 105AC final part and this new chapter the beginning of year 106AC but I'm a mess bear w me 😅
In my defense I did write most of this chapter as year 106AC but then during proofreading I didn't like the way it was going so i decided to rewrite it and while doing it the tone and set up of future events felt better to be still in 105AC
Next one I swear is finally 106 AC, its almost half written alright!🤞🏽Anyways, to understand a bit better the timeline: This chapter starts in late December, if my math is right Aemma died somewhere mid/late august so the chapter is roughly 5 months after her death 💔
And buckle up folks cause shit will start to really go down 🫣
Have a fun reading 😉
PS: I posted a new story (self control who?) 😁 If youre interested in checking it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52138687 🥰
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Another year was coming to an end, the days now bore constant thick clouds of rain in the sky and the weather cooling considerably more at night, especially when rain did pour down. It surely reflected Rhaenyra’s life perfectly.
Unlike what she expected and what everyone reassured her of, things did not get any better as the moons passed. If anything it got worse. The pain of her loss never lessened in any way despite what she constantly heard from everyone, including her father. Rhaenyra often found herself in bouts of crying, almost every night having nightmares and only ever able to have a moment of peace when the maesters brought her sweetsleep or others such concoction s.
Her emotional state was made worse by all the strain and stress of the endless days of too many responsibilities Rhaenyra had to take on now, work upon work that seemed too much for a girl of just eight.
Without her muña, many of the duties of the Queen Consort fell to Rhaenyra as the princess and the heir. Or so the Lord Hand had suggested. The other members of the council suggested it was more prudent for her to be taught the necessary lessons first, especially those pertaining specific matters a heir and future regnant monarch needed to have, but as was often the case her father favored his friend Otto’s advice better.
And so Rhaenyra now spend most of her day hours picking after her muña’s work which did made Rhaenyra feel somewhat closer to her but it was a more complicated and tiring work than most people thought it was.
Then there was the hours she had to suffer through the indignity of still being the council’s cupbearer. It was bad enough when she was just a princess, now though that she was the heir it felt humiliating to be serving men who should be serving her. Her father also did not want to hear any reasoning against it when both Rhaenyra and their cousin Rhaenys tried to talk about it.
Otto Hightower had said it was a good and worthy position for the heir and to her father the Hand’s words were always the true and law.
Rhaenyra could now truly understand her uncle’s hatred for the man. His opinion about Otto Hightower was more than right and she wondered how was he able to control himself not to just kill the despicable man. Each minute she had to suffer through his incessant chatter twisting her father’s thoughts every each way he wished made Rhaenyra want to pick Aegon’s dagger and slit the Hand’s throat.
The Lord Hand was the one to advocate her becoming the heir, she later found out, and yet almost everyday he said something or attempted to do things that undermined her, that set her up for failure and humiliation. Despite he also being the one to suggest she should take on the Queen consort’s duties, now moons after Rhaenyra just knew he did not do it with good intentions, for thinking it was the right decision.
Rhaenyra assumed and was almost entirely sure his intentions was to make her fold under the pressure, to bring to light all of her weaknesses and inabilities. Ser Otto made sure to always point out every one of her missteps, sometimes making them bigger and worse-looking than the matter actually was. He did not care for the parts she excelled at, the things she did really good but only for her failures. Just the way he must have done with uncle Daemon.
One of these days Rhaenyra would build the courage to stand up to him and ask why he wanted her as heir if he clearly thought she was so inadequate and unworthy.
However for now she would bear it all with a stiff lip, quietly. Because despite her deepest desire, Rhaenyra was still just a weakling eight year old child. Any of her attempts to speak up, to seek the help she needed, to grasp at what was hers by right came up so shy and weak that people could easily dismiss her. Her muña had wanted her to be brave, to fight anything thrown her way but she just couldn’t.
Rhaenyra was too scared all the time, too hurt and exhausted to have any real fight in her.
If it wasn’t for dear old Beesbury and Princess Rhaenys, Rhaenyra would have probably failed much more than she has, might have crumbled as the Lord Hand wanted her to long ago.
Often the Master of Coin would accompany her in a walk after council sessions, giving her any input over the financial matters of the realm she might require to learn, listening and answering any of her doubts. Although the topics were more boring than anything else Rhaenyra has ever heard, and rather tricky to learn, Lord Beesbury lessons were very useful for a better understanding of some matters discussed during the small council.
Her older cousin although not a member of the small council nor considered an expert in the matters of the kingdoms, she had been an heir herself before Prince Aemon died thereof had had an education according to the role she was supposed to have taken. Princess Rhaenys also had learned at the knee of both her father and Queen Alysanne. Moreover, Rhaenyra came to learn that Lord Corlys shared many of his duties as Head of House Velaryon and Lord of Driftmark with his wife, allowing Rhaenys to deal with many matters now that he was busy being Master of Ships.
Princess Rhaenys has plenty to pass on to Rhaenyra and was glad to do so, she always made time to seek Rhaenyra for some tea, a luncheon or even dinner where they could discuss about whatever Rhaenyra needed or wanted to learn. But Rhaenyra never even knew where to begin, what was right to ask, her questions and doubts sounded so silly that she often just let Rhaenys lead the conversation giving her whatever advises she thought necessary.
It was disheartening to know how lacking her education had been so far, how girls were allowed to be taught very little by the septas and maesters but for frivolous topics and skills.
More disheartening was her father’s unwillingness to change her education now that she was heir. Even though she was just a girl, just a princess, Rhaenyra was the heir and so it was only fair for her to have the same education a boy heir would have but her father was too blinded by his Hand’s relentless suggestions to understand that simple fact.
Rhaenyra needed to change that, she has to make her father see reason, how could she possibly go against Ser Otto’s words she did not know. Yet. She would find a way, hopefully sooner rather than later.
A loud crying startled her from her thoughts and Rhaenyra winced when looking down at an already red-faced Baela. Her poor little cousin has never healed from the losses of both her aunt and father, Baela was hurt just as much as Rhaenyra; if it did not hurt her so to see her cousin like that Rhaenyra would have been glad to have company in this pain.
“Shh, shh, there, there.” Rhaenyra cooed gently picking Baela from the blanket on the grassy ground and hugging her to her chest. “It’s alright, cousin, I’m here. No need to cry.”
Rhaenyra stood up and started rocking Baela, her little cousin heavier by the day making it almost too difficult for Rhaenyra to do that.
From all the things her father had done lately though, the one that hurt the most was his carelessness about Baela, his own niece. King Viserys never paid any mind to his brother’s daughter, only ever remembering her existence when Rhaenyra brought her into the same room as him but only ever smiled at the babe, never asked after her welfare. Her father had been so callous regarding Baela he even forgot about her nameday, not caring to prepare something even if simple to celebrate her very first nameday
Rhaenyra refused to beg him scraps for Baela though, she knew uncle Daemon would have hated that, so she organized a brunch in honor of her cousin by herself with the help of Princess Rhaenys. Only a dozen people or less attended the little celebration thrown at the Godswood, Baela’s favourite spot, and Rhaenyra thought her cousin quite enjoyed the small and peaceful gathering. The Velaryons, except for Lord Corlys, were there as well as Lord Beesbury with his youngest daughter and two of his little grandchildren. Lucile Strong brought both her younger sister, who arrived from Harrenhal just a moon past with their mother, and her brother Harwin who also brought one Commander Luthor, a close friend of uncle Daemon.
It was a great afternoon until rain decided to mess it all up but even then Rhaenyra and the other kids enjoyed themselves under the downpour for a little while.
Rhaenyra smiled at the memory, the happiest she had been ever since her muña’s passing, while pacing around the Godswood and humming a lullaby her kepus often sang to help her sleep, ‘til Baela finally calmed down and stopped crying. Her cousin was probably hungry already, the wet-nurse fed her less and less now so the baby could start learning to eat more solid food instead, something that greatly displeased both Baela and Rhaenyra.
Despite wishing to stay longer in the peace of the Godswood with just her cousin for company, Ser Erryk completely out of sight to give them privacy, this morning’s council would begin soon. Even if Baela didn’t need to eat, Rhaenyra would have had to leave either way.
The early mornings was the one moment of true free time Rhaenyra still has and everyday she made sure to spend either with Baela in the Godswood or flying Syrax. If it was up to her she would only spend these moment with Baela flying on Syrax, but her father had been adamant in forbidding her to take Baela along. So now Rhaenyra divided her mornings between both, one day she would bring Baela to some alone and peaceful time in the Godswood, then the next she would go visit and fly with her golden girl.
After bundling Baela better in her thick baby blanket, a blood red cloth with dragons stitched into it by Rhaenyra herself, against the cold weather of the morning Rhaenyra walked out if the Godswood and into the keep’s garden; there was a path from the Godswood straight back into the keep but she preferred to take the longer way through the gardens to buy them more time together.
While crossing the garden, through the many trees and flowers – some thriving in the cold winds while others were slowly dying – Rhaenyra passed by some courtiers finally up and about, mostly ladies tittering between themselves. Their bows and curtseys for her were flimsy at best which angered Rhaenyra so much but she was unable to say anything about it. When she was almost reaching the big decorated archway that lead into the castle, she sighted Lady Alicent walk passed under it to enter the garden.
Rhaenyra eyes widened a little when the weak sunlight reflected off a sparkling necklace nestled on the older girl’s neck.
“Lady Alicent.” Rhaenyra greeted her when they came closer to each other, the lady promptly stopping and curtsying. “What a pretty necklace you’re wearing. I never seen it before.”
“Oh.” Lady Alicent brought a hand to the sparkling jewellery, eyes widened as well and cheeks turning pink. “It’s ne-new, Princess. A gift.”
“A generous one at that.” She joked in amusement in seeing the girl react that way. “Has your nameday passed? I’m afraid I don’t know when is it so forgive me if I did not congratulated you.”
“No, no, it hasn’t…” Alicent answered and furtively looked around trying to find an escape from the princess, after all the girl could not know the expensive piece of jewelery was gifted to her by the king. Maybe she should not have followed her father’s advice to parade around with the necklace. “My-my nameday isn’t for a couple moons yet, Princess.”
Before Rhaenyra could ask more about her gift, actually curious as why and how Ser Otto afforded to gift such expensive necklace to his daughter, her little cousin let out a disgruntled whimper.
“I better go, Baela is hungry.” She said before giving a small smile to Lady Alicent and returning to walk towards the keep.
Her arms were already tired and almost sore from holding Baela, despite her cousin’s discontent from the lack of breastmilk she clearly has been eating the food just as greedily if her weight was any indication. When they were halfway to Maegor’s Holdfast, Rhaenyra stopped and turned to Ser Erryk.
“Ser, could you take Baela the rest of the way to the nursery? I cannot be late again for the council.”
“Of course, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Kingsguard that was now assigned to her agreed and then looked over at the household guards stationed a few paces away. “You there. The Princess requires an escort to the Small Council chambers, go with her and make sure she gets there safely.”
Two of the three knights stepped forward and nodded in agreement. Rhaenyra thought it rather unnecessary to have a shadow following her around all the time but it was a command by the king himself for her to always have someone close by.
“Thank you, good ser.” She thanked all the same and then passed Baela over to his arms. “Make sure her caretakers feed her if the wet-nurse isn’t there.”
“It will be done, Your Highness.”
Rhaenyra gave a last pat to her little cousin’s back and then turned to make her way to the council chambers. Though she was used to Ser Erryk’s presence, both from his short time as her shield years ago and from the short time he was Baela’s shield, Rhaenyra quite missed Ser Harrold comforting presence at her side.
With Ser Ryam’s passing over a fortnight ago, her former sworn shield was the one chosen to become the new Lord Commander and as such he was now King Viserys’ main kingsguard to shadow him at all times, as well as acquiring many new duties regarding the keep and the royal family security. Considering her father still avoided spending too much time with her, Rhaenyra only saw Ser Harrold during council sessions now.
Arriving at the small council chambers, Rhaenyra politely thanked both guards and dismissed them back to their station; another household guard and a kingsguard, Ser Willis were already standing at the doors so she would be just fine while alone inside.
As she hoped, today she was the first one to arrive, much earlier this time around and promptly set out to organize the table. These were servant’s work, Rhaenyra knew but since she had no other choice she begrudgingly did it as best as she could. She rearranged the chairs that were askew from the last meeting, organized the round spheres according to each member so they could just put them in place once the session started, then she distributed the glasses around the table.
Rhaenyra was at the wine cart distractedly organizing the pitchers so she could pick each choice easier and faster, when the doors opened again. Both master of law and coin walking in.
“Princess Rhaenyra, how good to see you, dear.” Lord Beesbury greeted with a wide smile.
“Good to see you too, Lord Treasurer.” She greeted with a grin.
“As cheeky as your uncle, I keep saying.” The old lord chuckled.
“Your Grace.” Lord Strong greeted in a more subdued tone and a serious face, bowing his head.
The Lord of Harrenhal was the main councilmember against her father’s decision that blatantly broke his precious laws. But Rhaenyra knew he was starting to warm up to her since she has been much diligent in her duties and proved to really work to become a good heir. At least he made an effort to see and recognize her efforts, unlike the Grandmaester and the Lord Hand. Sometimes not even her father was as open minded.
Rhaenyra stayed by the wine cart while both man sat in their chairs and then had a light conversation about trivial matters from their own homelands while they all waited for the other members. Next came in the Grandmaester, this time accompanied by Septon Eustace – someone Rhaenyra did not understand why should be a part of the sessions whenever he so wished – both stopping their dithering once walking inside the room.
It took a few more minutes before her father finally arrived, fashionably late as usual, the Lord Hand by his side and Ser Harrold following close behind. Once they were all seated, her father greeted them with a ‘good morrow’ and then they all put their round spheres in place. Her father looked her way and gave a small smile and a slight nod, her signal to start pouring the wine in their goblets.
The first couple of topics were boring as usual and Rhaenyra barely paid any mind to it, going around the table mindlessly.
“My Lords.” King Viserys said once the issue Lord Strong brought forth was dealt with. “Ser Harrold, the succeeding Lord Commander of my Kingsguard, would like to make a haste in finding Ser Ryam’s replacement.”
“Your Grace. My Lords.” Ser Harrold said respectfully after her father nodded to him. “The Kingsguard must soon be restored to its full complement of Seven. With the help of the Hand, I’ve invited a number of fine candidates to court. All have passed fair trials.”
“Ser Ryam was a strong Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.” Her father commented. “But indeed the choice of a new knight cannot be delayed any longer.”
Before the members could further discuss about the topic, the door of the chambers swung open and a clearly enraged Corlys Velaryon entered. By how angry he looked, Rhaenyra could easily assume what was the issue he came with to discuss.
“Four ships have now been lost. The last one was flying my banner.” He said sternly, stopping in front of the table. “The Stepstones have now grown into a conflagration, yet you sit here and dither about court business.”
“If you’ve something to discuss, Lord Corlys…” The Lord Hand started in that condescending tone of his.
“I want to know what is to be done about my ships and my men.” Lord Corlys interrupted him, looking even angrier staring down at Ser Otto.
“The crown will compensate you for your ship and crew, and make an offering to the men’s families.” Ser Otto said and Rhaenyra had to fight the will to roll her eyes at his worn down words.
Not only about this issue Lord Corlys is constantly talking about but the Lord Hand often said the same thing regarding many other matters that would not even need compensation if the crown had done something to avoid them in the first place.
“I don’t want compensation.” The Master of Ships derisively said to the Hand before looked at her father. “I want to seize the Stepstones by force and burn out this Crabfeeder.”
“I am not prepared to start a war with the Free Cities.” King Viserys said calmly, not even disturbed by the news.
“These pirates are not the Free Cities.” Lord Corlys said, trying not to sneer and use a tone he would use if speaking with a addled mind person.
“Who do you think provides them with their ships and tender?”
Rhaenyra glanced over to her father with a frown. From previous discussions, only three of the Free Cities were involved in any way in the pillaging of the Steptones and ships with many types of goods passing by there. If he was to order action to be taken, they would fight with less than half of the Free Cities and their Seven Kingdoms could easily outnumber their alliance of three. At least that logic made sense in Rhaenyra’s head but she more likely than not was wrong in this.
“In all of its history, my lord, the Seven Kingdoms have never entered open war with the Free Cities.” Lord Beesbury was the next to admonish Lord Corlys idea, probably fearing the heavily costs a war could have. “Were that to happen, the losses would be incalculable.”
“Lord Beesbury speaks true.” Septon Eustace piped in. “It has been many years the kingdoms had lived in peace, a peace the Old King gave his all to ensure it is maintained for generations to come. We should not let fear guide our hearts to allow the peace to be broken.”
“And what reason does the Crabfeeder have to fear us?” Lord Corlys retorted to both man.
“I’ll caution you, Lord Corlys, a seat at the King’s table does not make you his equal.” Ser Otto was the one to say, always speaking as if he was the crown’s authority instead of her father, the king.
“I have acted, Corlys.” Her father said after a tense moment of silence with both his Hand and Master of Ships staring down at each other. “I’ve sent envoys to Pentos and Volantis to see if we might find common cause. Ships and men are at the ready. The Stepstones will be settled in time.”
“You have dragonriders, father.” Rhaenyra impulsively said before she could keep her thoughts to herself. And all eyes turned to her as it so rarely happened.
“It isn’t that simple, Rhaenyra.” He said and the look in his eyes made her slowly whiter on the inside, regretting letting her foolish tongue ran ahead of her thoughts.
“At least the Princess has a plan.” Lord Corlys retorted, looking over at her with interest, his eyes glinting in a way as if he was actually seeing her for the first time.
“I only meant that diplomacy could be reached faster if we send dragons. It would be a show of force.” She tried to explain herself, putting her hands behind her back so she could twist her rings without anyone noticing. “I’m sure Princess Rhaenys would not mind flying there as a more powerful envoy. Nor would Unc…”
“Perhaps…” Ser Otto quickly intervened. “There’s some better use for the Princess’s talents, Your Grace.”
Rhaenyra immediately regretted making the mistake of mentioned her uncle by the dark glare the king gave her.
“Why don’t you take the Princess to see about the new Kingsguard posting, Lord Commander?” Her father suggested after a minute.
“A fine idea, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold agreed without much choice.
“This knight will protect you as well.” King Viserys declared looking back at her and attempted to smile, though it came out strained. “You should choose.”
Rhaenyra swallowed down her tears and the humiliation rising in her chest, then turned around to leave to save the little dignity she still had left.
She followed Ser Harrold to where the knights would be called to be assembled, not dare saying anything nor looking at him, feeling utter humiliated by the harsh dismissal of her father.
“Your idea was not without merits, My Princess.” Her former sworn shield said while the knights filtered in, voice as gentle as always when speaking to her.
Rhaenyra just hummed, not believing his attempt at assurance and not wanting to see him look at her with pity. When everything was ready, Rhaenyra stepped on the elevation put to help her look over the balcony’s parapet at the knights down below better.
Then Ser Harrold started presenting the men that passed the trials, each one stepping forward for her viewing and judgment; just another boring task thrust on her for the sake of keeping her away from the council chambers. At some point Princess Rhaenys joined the presentation, standing at the gallery on the floor above and looking down at them, specifically Rhaenyra, with keen eyes.
“We thank you for your loyal service to The Crown, ser.” Rhaenyra said to the knight who apparently was so very valiant for capturing a would-be poacher.
“Ser Rymun Mallister. Son of Lord Lymond Mallister of Seagard.” Ser Harrold said changing the little statue of House Caron for that of House Mallister. “Winner of the melee at Cider Hall. He was the last mounted of three-and-twenty knights. Ser Rymun was knighted at eight-and-ten.”
“Do any of these knights have combat experience?” Rhaenyra turned her head to look at him, and by the corner of her eyes she caught Ser Otto silently standing behind them. So the next words she said with sarcasm since these men were his recommendations. “Beyond capturing poachers.”
“Ser Criston Cole.” Ser Harrold announced the next knight, the almost imperceptive smile let Rhaneyra know that not all candidates had been the Lord Hand’s choice. The Cole knight had after all gained her interest so it was perceptive of her former sworn shield to often him a chance to prove himself again. “Son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven. Ser Criston won against Prince Daemon during the tourney at Maidenpool and have battled in the Stormlands.”
“You saw combat in the Stormlands?” Rhaenyra asked curiosity piqued and leaned over the parapet, still having to stand on her tip toes for that despite the help.
“Dornish marches, Princess.” The knight answered her, brown eyes sparkling with clear proud. “I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”
“Hmm.” Rhaenyra smiled down at him before turning again to Ser Harrold. “I choose Ser Criston Cole.”
Her declaration was met with a small nod of agreement by Ser Harrold, so she stepped down and was ready to leave but before she could Ser Otto’s words stopped her.
“Let’s not be too hasty, Princess.” The Lord Hand was quick to intervene in her decision, walking closer to stand by the side of the table with the little statues of the houses sigils. “There’s no doubt Ser Criston is a fine warrior but houses such as Crakehall and Mallister are important allies to The Crown.” He added with an almost condescending voice. “Seagard, for instance, is the realm’s prime defence against reavers from the Iron Islands.”
“My father said I was the one to decide which knight to enter the Kingsguard.” She retorted but her words had no effects on him so she continued more hardly. “These men are tourney knights. The royal family should be defended by a man who’s known real combat… Should we not?”
“Of course, Princess.” Ser Otto finally conceded after a minute of silently staring her down.
“Well, let’s plan Ser Criston’s investiture then.” Rhaenyra tilted her head petulantly before walking away with this small but sweet victory against the Hand.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“Your Grace.” Corlys greeted the king when he arrived at the limits of the keep's garden where their meeting was to take place. Corlys had been quite surprised for the summons considered the tense air of the council session that morning.
“I’m glad we could meet.” Viserys said and was quick to amend any sour mood caused earlier at the small council. “I know tempers ran hot today, and I wanted to assure you how much I value the bond between our houses. Rhaenys is my favourite cousin after all.”
“I wish to apologize for the tenor at the Small Council today, Your Grace. It was not my intent to make offense.” He said though the words tasted bitter in his mouth.
“Your fleet is one of the realm’s most important assets, Lord Corlys.” The king said seriously. “But you must understand, as King it is my obligation to avoid war until such time it is unavoidable.”
“None among us desire open war.” Corlys retorted truthfully for he knew the horrors that happened upon a battlefield but the king was indeed a blind fool if he thought the situation hasn't already turned unavoidable. He chose though to take this opportunity to speak of an equal urgent matter. “Might I speak plainly, Your Grace?
“I always welcome the unfettered thoughts of my council.”
“I fear that the eyes of our enemies are presently fixed on the Red Keep.” He said in hopes he could finally make Viserys see reason when away from his hovering Hand. “The Queen has passed. A girl has been named heir to the Iron Throne, the first in its history. And now a foreign power has established a colony in our most critical shipping lane.”
“You paint such an aspirant portrait of my reign, Lord Corlys.” Viserys chuckled humourlessly, not liking at all the turn of this conversation.
“It is an honest one, I’m afraid, Your Grace.” He said without reservations, after all the Lord Hand did it at all times and was met with little to no resistance. Anyone but for the King’s own brother. “At the moment, The Crown is perceived as being vulnerable.”
“And a blind incursion in the Stepstones is the only way to demonstrate that we are not?” Viserys questioned incredulous by the man’s thirst for war.
“To elude a storm, you can either sail into it, or around it. But you must never await its coming.” Lord Corlys repeated the words passed down through generations of Velaryon Lords.
“Do you have a specific course of action to propose, my lord?” The king questioned again, impatient for whatever solution his cousin’s husband clearly has in mind.
“Join our families, Your Grace. Wed my daughter Laena.” Corlys said with determination, with an unflinchingly proud stance. “Unite the two great surviving Valyrian houses. With the Targaryen dragons and the Velaryon fleet bound in blood, you can show the realm that The Crown’s strongest days are ahead, not behind.”
“I must admit, I haven’t given marriage much thought.” Viserys said a half-true, although he had not thought too much about it, the thought had passed through his mind whenever he despaired over his family dwindled numbers. “It hasn’t even been half a year since Aemma passed.”
“The realm will expect you to take a new wife soon or late, Your Grace, to strengthen your line and produce more heirs.” Corlys commented, actually surprised the council hasn’t started to breech the subject yet. “Of course the marriage would not be right away, the mourn period must be respected for Aemma was a good and gracious queen.” He added not too spook Viserys weak disposition too much too soon. “But once the time is eventually upon us, you could not ask for a stronger match than Laena.”
Viserys did not know what to say, Lord Corlys words were true and he knew soon enough they would be discussing the matter of his new marriage. However, seeing as how young Laena still was he did not expect Corlys much less Rhaenys to already wish for a marriage to their daughter. Although he had married Aemma when she was the same age as Laena was now and the girl would probably flower soon, Viserys did not wish to repeat the same mistake.
Perhaps if they had waited a couple more years, Aemma would not have had such difficulties with her pregnancies. Perhaps they could have had a son by now, more living children than dead ones if she was bit older when they had to consummate their marriage. Perhaps then he would not have had to make the decision he was forced to make.
“I’ll keep your advice in mind, Lord Corlys, and consider it with care once the time is right.” Viserys finally replied, wishing to put an end to this talk so he could go back to his rooms to have some much needed peace. “But for now I’ll take the time to keep mourning my wife.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was late into the night, and Viserys was still working around his model of Valyria instead of resting from the busy day. It was hard to have a peaceful sleep ever since Aemma’s passing, her screams of pain lingering in his mind whenever he fell asleep and the horrifying sight of his son not breathing anymore always made him roughly startled awake.
His distracting moment was interrupted when his new Lord Commander knocked on the doors before opening.
“The Lady Alicent Hightower, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold announced and then Lady Alicent came into the room as she has done most nights for these past moons, the knight’s discomfort going unnoticed by both of them.
“Thank you, Ser Harrold.” Viserys said and watched the kingsguard promptly step out and close the door. “My Lady, so good of you to come once more.”
Viserys understood now his grandsire wish to have the young lady as a companion during his final moons of life, she truly knew how to be a comforting presence and her sweet spoken voice while reading could be quite a balm to a troubled mind. He was very grateful for her thoughtfulness in offering him some company in these lonely nights.
However, people would not look favourable upon it since he was way younger than his grandsire had been as a widowed man, so Viserys suggested after that first time for her to only come during the nights when the courtiers and servants alike would have retired.
“I apologize for being unable to visit you, My King, in the last few days.” Alicent explained walking further into the room and then depositing the book she brought down on a table. “My younger brother’s tutors have been a little remiss in his studies so I had to step in to help.”
“Most gracious of you to look after your younger siblings.” Viserys said with a smile, longing this could have been something his daughter could have done. “Otto raised you well.”
Alicent smiled shyly and averted her eyes down, it was most unbecoming of a lady such as herself to feel such enjoyment over a widowed man compliments and feel the need for even more. She might be visiting the king in the dead of night but she was still a maid and the king has been most gracious in not wanting more from her, so she would rather not tempt fate.
“I have found a new book I think you might like, Your Grace.” She commented to change the subject.
“Maybe later, Lady Alicent.” He said dismissively before gesturing for her to approach. “Come. In all this time I haven’t yet properly showed you my small project.”
“Oh. Of course, Your Grace.” Alicent agreed though she had no real interest for it.
King Viserys walked her around the huge model, pointing out things and explained what exactly they were supposed to represent. Alicent politely nodded along and smiled when the king became particularly excited about a specific part.
“The Valyrian capital was built into a volcano, much like Dragonstone.” Viserys said when they were on opposite sides, he in front of the capital’s entrance. “And the dragonlords, the highest of the nobility, lived here at the volcanic face, closest to the source of their magic and power.” Then he pointed out to a structured to the side, that would have been closer still to the volcano in real life. “And this was the Anogrion. Where the bloodmages worked their craft.”
“It is truly wondrous what you’ve built.” Alicent commented, it was a grand thing to create she could admit.
“Oh no. I only pore over the histories and provide the plans.” He smiled sheepishly. “The stonemasons built the structures.”
“Do you believe that Westeros can be another Valyria, Your Grace?” She asked curiously and almost fearful of his answer.
That was the whole point the Faith fought and keeps fighting against the Targaryen queer tendencies, Alicent knew, the reason her father worked so diligently for a better realm, so that their land would not become another sinful place as Valyria is said to have been. The hands of the Seven had weighted down and destroyed that place for a reason.
Even the tapestries hanging proudly around the castle and the Targaryen and Velaryon unbothered demeanour towards them was a testament to the Valyrians sinful ways of life.
“That depends, whether you speak of the Freehold at its height or at its fall.” Viserys replied, picking up a dragon figurine and looking sorrowful at it. “Over a thousand dragons, a navy large enough to span the seas of the world… The glory of Old Valyria will never be seen again.”
Alicent strongly prayed it would indeed never happen again. Although the Old King and Queen Alyssane proved themselves reasonable monarchs and decided to follow the path of the Seven; and now so far at least one of their grandchildren has also being a reasonable king, following the right advise of her father. One could never know the darkness lingering inside a Targaryen.
“Tell me, how is Rhaenyra?” The king suddenly asked, confusing Alicent with that question.
“What do you mean?” She asked unsure what he expected her to know about his daughter.
“You two used to be close, no?”
“As the youngest of the queen’s ladies I was sometimes the princess playmate.” Alicent answered, hoping it was not a mistake to mention the late queen. Her father had advised her to avoid the woman’s name as much as possible.
“Well, these days she doesn’t say more than a few words to me.” Viserys confessed of his troubled relationship with his daughter, needing to unburden at least a little of it with someone. “I think she might find it difficult to discuss personal matters.”
“It will take time, Your Grace.” She said sympathizing with the little princess’s predicament. “It did when I lost mine own mother.”
“I wish she would approach me.”
“What if you went to her?” She impulsively said, thinking that might be the advise the king was looking for.
“There are times when I would rather face the Black Dread himself than mine own daughter of eight.” Viserys chuckled humorlessly, not proud of such thing but he knew Lady Alicent would not judge him.
“You need not worry, Your Grace.” Alicent said in a reassuring tone and gave him a gentle smile. “You do have such an easy way about you, I’m sure she would receive your efforts with an open heart.”
“Thank you, My Lady. You’re much too kind.” He smiled at her, glad for her words; then his eyes caught sight of the shiny necklace adorning Lady Alicent’s neck which made him smile wider to see she appreciated the gift of gratitude he gave her. “I see you liked the necklace.”
“Oh.” Alicent brought her hand to the most expensive piece of jewelry she owned now, and once again her father proved himself right in his advices regarding the king. “It’s the prettiest necklace, Your Grace. I am very thankful for this gift.”
“Good, good, I’m glad.” Viserys said and he felt a pang in his heart at remembering the wondrous pieces of jewelry he loved to gift to Aemma; how painful it was to know he would never again see her shine as lovely as a start with all those precious stones adorning her like a Valyrian goddess herself. Clearing his throat, he continued on to a safer topic. “Anyways, I thought you could perhaps take Rhaneyra away from her duties for some time. Give her some much needed distraction. I stroll in the gardens or a picnic at the Godswood she likes so much. Maybe even a visit to the sept.”
“I would be happy to, Your Grace.” She agreed quickly, truly happy to see him wanting his daughter closer to the faith. “A prayer is always a good way to achieve peace of mind in troublesome times.”
“So Septon Eustace says all the time to me.”
The two of them chuckled at that, then Alicent daringly decided to step closer to the king and rest her hand on his forearm.
“If it is your wish, My King, then I’ll happily see it done”
Alicent smiled as prettily as she knew how and was compensated by her effort with a bright smile from the king.
Her father had no longer asked her to keep Princess Rhaenyra company so Alicent had been happy to steer well away from the princess newly discovered habit of sourly pouting around the keep. But if the king wanted this from her, then she would do it without complaints and most care.
After all, if all went right for her, Alicent would become Princess Rhaenyra stepmother. It was time for them to start building a good relationship between themselves. It would be easier to gain the bratty princess once she learned of the possible marriage if they already had a solid and stable bond.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The doors of Lord Corlys private solar were roughly opened and his wife walked inside in a whirlwind of red silks, violet eyes ablaze in anger.
“Why has Laena’s maid just told me a new dress must be commissioned in the morrow fit for a walk with the king?” Rhaenys asked her stoic husband, hovering over him ready to literally spit fire.
“Because I have ordered her to commission Laena a new dress fit for a walk with the king instead of going blabbering about it with you before doing as I ordered.” It was in times like this Corlys regretted giving Rhaenys so much leeway in their household.
“Why shouldn’t she? Because you knew what I would say?”
“And you have proven me right with this overreaction, have you not?” Corlys retorted sarcastically, he has no time for his wife’s new tantrum over this matter, he has too much to take care of after the latest losses to the Crabfeeder.
“Overreacting?” Rhaenys pitch went higher, nostrils flaring in anger and indignation.
“We have talked about this, Rhaenys.” He sighed exasperated. “When the chance arrives, Laena must marry the king.”
“No, she should not!” She exclaimed before slamming both hands on the big wooden table, his papers almost fluttering to the floor. “He ordered his own wife cut open. He killed Aemma, his own blood and here you are wanting to give my daughter to such a man? Have you lost all sense and dignity?”
“Queen Aemma and the child would have died either way.” Corlys said dismissively and then stood up. “It was a distasteful decision to take, yes, but your cousin had been alone for as long as she lived in this keep, no one to ensure her protection. Our daughter will have us to make sure she stays well and safe, and births a boy who can be the future king.”
“Aemma’s husband was supposed to protect her and he had her killed!” Rhaenys almost screamed, infuriated by her own husband carelessness over the matter.
“Lower your voice, wife.” He said hardening his face. “There has been no rumours about what happened for a reason. If the king does not want people to know, we should not be the ones to break his trust in this.”
“Maybe we should.” She sneered at him and then crossed her arms. “Perhaps the realm should know they have another kinslayer as their king.”
“Rhaenys…” Corlys said her name in a warning tone.
“My daughter will not marry a kinslayer and wife murderer. I will not have it, Corlys.”
“Rhaenys, you are my wife and I love you dearly but do not forget your place.” Corlys words immediately made Rhaenys take a step back, face blanching of all colour. “I may allow you much because your ruling skills are greater than many pitiful lords out there. But I am the Head of House Velaryon and Laena is a Velaryon and my daughter will marry who I say she must marry. Do not make me command you as your Lord and husband.”
Rhaenys looked at her husband serious face, his expression one she rarely ever saw in all the years she have known him since she was but a girl of one-and-six. She has always known he was an ambitious man, always seeking more power and higher standing, it was one of the reasons he captivated her so much and she chose him as husband. But his ambitions has never endangered their family before.
It was startling to see a mask fall from her own husband’s face and Rhaenys wondered if this was how Aemma felt in her last moments, utterly betrayed by the man who should love and protect her instead.
“Does your ambition truly knows no bounds?” Rhaenys whispered words her father said to her to show his disapproval in her choice of husband. She had fought him on that back then but maybe she should have listened to him.
“If it means a Velaryon can finally sit the Iron Throne as it should have happened years ago then no, Rhaenys. It does not.” Corlys said with finality. “Now if that’s all, wife, I still have many matters to work on.”
Rhaenys clenched her jaw so tight she felt the bone crack but swallowed any words down and left in the same manner she has entered, fire boiling over in her veins. She reached out into her bond with Meleys to let her girl know they were due another late night flight to let off their rage peacefully somewhere else. If not Rhaenys just might think better of it and burn everything down.
Notes:
So, give me give me your thoughts!!! Let me know if you liked it by leaving kudo&comments theyre much appreciated 🥹
Like I said, babe Rhae will have a rough go at it before things get any better so get the tissues ready 🥲
She is only 8 still, it will take a hot minute for her to get the hang of the game and she will have many stumbles along the way but she's already proving way more to handle than Otto actually anticipated even if she can't see it yet! And the dummy is so overconfident he doesn't even see his shooting himself in he foot 😏
Same goes for Viserys , he really thought he would be puppeteering his daughter like he couldn't with Daemon but he aint prepared for what will hit him pretty soon 🤡Otto and Viserys being two petty pieces of shits towards literal children? Nothing surprising under the sun people am I right 🙄
Alicent, Alicent you delusional crazy b what even to say about you *tearing my own hair out*
Seriously it hurt to rewatch like two times and write the V&A scene cause jesus fucking christ give us a break!!
Are we truly supposed to believe she just walked into the king's chamber all alone in plain daylight, stayed there for who knows how long and not a whisper got out about it? Otto is good but he's not that good 😑 So in this story all of their encounters will be in the dead of night cause that makes more sense!
And yeah, I so bought that little attempt at a love story 🤦🏾♀️Criston Cole ew, I know. Unfortunately he will be sticking around a lot now 😤
Corlys finally makes his move, poor guy just didnt know he was very much behind Otto in this arena hahhhaahhahahah
My Rhaenys would never want her girl marrying a wife&kin killer - show Rhaenys likely did not know about that cause honestly if she did - but at the end of the day, no matter the tittle and the dragon, in their world she is a wife first and foremost, so she is below Corlys and has to heed his commands 🤷🏾♀️
As he so nicely put it their children are Velaryons, basically his property per their worldview, if she truly rebelled here she would lose a lot she's not willing to. So folding to his brilliant idea it is.And this will be what either breaks or make Laena, place your bets for next chapter folks. Show Alicent 2.0 or Brand new Laena veering on a OC? 🫣
I guess that's all... Any doubts, questions, drop a comment and I'll be happy to discuss 🙆🏾♀️
Necessary links if you're interested for some visuals of the fic:
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-15/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/alicent-hightower/alicent-chapter-15/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenys-targaryen-velaryon/outfit-chapter-15/See you in the next one!!
Kisses 😘
Chapter 17: Chapter Sixteen: 106 AC Part I - I'm gonna raise the stakes. I'm gonna smoke you out.
Notes:
Heellooou!! Here's a late Christmas gift 🙆🏾♀️
I was supposed to have updated it along with my other fic but this holiday weekend was chaos delaying everything. Finished proofreading and everything else needed for this one just now cause again it's a monster chapter 😅Anyways...
About this chapter, I want to say right now that ik some things are too crazy and out of the realm of possibilities to stomach/believe but that’s the whole wonder of fanficiton, we can make anything and everything possible, no matter how little plausible so pls do read this chapter w a open mind cause we reached a point in the story things will get real wild ;)
To everyone in the reading and commenting who wants to see babe Rhae executing some righteous vengeance, here's a little treat for you 🥰
As for the timeline: Last chapter happened in December, this one takes place a month later, somewhere in mid-January and lasts for about 2/2&half weeks.
High Valyrian is in bold-italic. English is not my mother tongue so I apologize for any glaring mistakesI do hope you guys like this chapter!! If you don't, that's fine just skip right ahead ^^'
This will be the last chapter of this year folks so happy holidays and a happy new year!!! Thank you all who stuck around so far, who is still reading and interested in my story, who left kudos and comments. I'm truly grateful to you all ❣️
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
A new year had begun, the weather still cloudy and cold, the nights seemed to extend for hours on end while the days were short and more hurried than ever. In the Princess' life all remained the same, frozen in the drool tragedy it had become since Queen Aemma’s passing. And only ever changing to get worse.
The newest blow against Rhaenyra was the murmurs about the King, her father, remarrying. She did not know when or how it had started but she could easily assumed the Small Council have been talking about it, especially when they so eagerly sent her away from their sessions.
Rhaenyra sighed heavily while walking down the art gallery, looking up at the many Targaryen and Valyrian tapestries and paintings displayed with deep admiration, her cousin Laena silently walking by her side. It was their favorite pastime to do together because here they could almost pretend to be far away from all their responsibilities.
The Red Keep art gallery was first started by Queen Rhaenys herself, the queen’s way to display the victories of their family and the beauty that was Old Valyria in its height, back when the Conquerors still resided in Dragonstone so the tapestries were displayed in the throne room of their ancestral keep. Back then, it is said there was very little to display since King Aegon’s favorite queen passed well before her time but the biggest and most beautiful ones were from that time for the queen had commissioned them from the best artists across the Narrow Sea.
It all stayed untouched on Dragonstone by order of both King Aegon and Queen Visenya until Queen Rhaenys’ son and granddaughter took over her project after King Aegon’s passing, and Princess Rhaena personally oversaw the moving of all the pieces to one of the Red Keep biggest chamber at the time and commissioned new ones. With King Maegor’s usurpation, or accession as her kepus liked to tell it, and all that followed the solar was entirely forgotten – though the cruel and mad king did enlarge the solar twice more as a gift to his niece – the tapestries and paintings left to gather dust for many years.
Queen Alysanne was the next to take over the art display, putting the room to rights again with her own intentions to honor the people and things their family had lost through the years. Rhaenyra often wished to be the next to see to this task, her first order would be to bring Meraxes skull to be displayed here as a tribute to Queen Rhaenys; she admired her as much as she admired Visenya and she actually identified herself more with Queen Rhaenys than with the Conqueror's dark sister. Balerion was their God of Death, he should be down below in the darkness but Meraxes was the Goddess that represented motherhood, the giving of life, it's dragon skull should be basking in the sunlight up here.
The princess has less and less time to do anything she actually wishes or enjoys to do though but one day Rhaenyra promised to do that and keep on her family's legacy. In Rhaenyra’s opinion this was the prettiest, and best decorated, room in all the Red Keep and she loved to stare at the images and allow her mind be transported to a time that was so far removed from her own. Today that trick was not working.
“It’s only been half a year since my mother died.” Rhaenyra commented, breaking the long silence, choosing High Valyrian so anyone passing by outside the open doors would not understand their conversation; she stopped in front of the biggest painting in the room with the three Conquerors proudly displayed for all to see. “And those men are already trying to marry my father off and replace me as heir.”
“Have you heard something? Did they talk about it?” Laena asked, High Valyrian just a swift, her somewhat urgent tone making Rhaenyra frown.
“No, not really.” She crossed her arms and turned to look at her cousin. “I know those men by now though… How they plot in their secret councils when I’ve been sent away. I know they think I should not worry at the matters of lords and kings.”
“But you should, Rhaenyra. As heir that’s exactly your role.” Her cousin said serious before averting her violet eyes, crossing her own arms. “What if your father were to remarry? King Viserys chose you for his heir, do you really think he would set you aside just like that… If a son was to be born?”
“He did with uncle Daemon.” Rhaenyra answered, not really knowing what to think anymore.
“The king and his brother have a strained relationship for years, or so mother said… But the king loves you, he chose you.”
“He didn’t choose me.” She retorted stubbornly and started walking again, towards the big double doors. “He spurns uncle Daemon.”
That was the sad truth Rhaenyra came to understand during these moons. Perhaps if her kepus had not been his reckless self, her father might have had finally officially declared Daemon his heir. Perhaps then she would not need to be constantly worrying about a position she never wanted in the first place. Perhaps then her father would not have to replace both her and her mother.
“Rhaenyra.” Laena called out for her young cousin, still standing in the same place and hugging herself tighter to avoid shaking.
“What?” She asked turning around and frowned deeper in seeing Laena in clear distress. “What is it, Laena? What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something.” Her cousin said, eyes casted down and shoulders hunching.
Before Rhaenyra could ask what more bad news would she receive now, it could only be bad news since they were never ending these days, there was a sound of hurried footsteps entering the gallery and looking over at the entrance Rhaenyra saw Lady Alicent coming their way.
“Princess Rhaenyra!” She exclaimed, face flushed as if she had ran all the way there. “Finally I found you. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Whatever for?” Rhaenyra asked warily, first Laena and now Alicent.
“Oh I just wanted to invite you to come to the Sept with me this morning.” Lady Alicent replied and gave her one of those soft smiles of hers that did not truly lit up her face. “You have no small council to attend, right? So I thought you might like to come with me.”
“I don’t… Well, it is nice of you but I was actually planning to spend some time with my little Baela now actually.” She tried to refuse the invitation the most polite way she could think of, not at all wishing to go the sept, those were not her gods.
“The little lady is asleep, I went there first thinking you might be there.” Alicent was quick to say then added. “Father mentioned the king has been worried over your busy schedule. He said the king suggested some quiet and peaceful time at the sept might be good for you, though he loathes not to have the time to take you.
“Oh.” Now Rhaenyra had no acceptable excuses, anything else might be consider rude and she did not wish it getting back to Alicent’s father.
“You should go, cousin.” Laena said behind her, still tightly hugging herself and looking as if about to cry. Her cousin in distress could be a better excuse and certainly more important but then Laena added. “I would be glad to accompany you but mother must be waiting for me. I need to try some new dresses father bought me.”
“Maybe next time, Lady Laena.” Alicent smiled to the other Targaryen, actually hoping she could bring both girls to the light and away from their family’s queer ways.
“Of course.” She smiled weakly before approaching Rhaenyra and putting a hand on her forearm. “Let’s have dinner together this night?” Maybe then I’ll be less of a coward, cousin Laena silently thought to herself.
Rhaenyra nodded her agreement, not wanting to go through another excruciate silent dinner with her father, then leaned over to give Laena a quick hug and a kiss to the cheek. The two smiled to each other before Rhaenyra followed Lady Alicent out the gallery solar, her new sworn shield Ser Criston quick to step behind her when they crossed the threshold into the hallway.
The royal sept was on the other side of the keep, across the stables and not too far from the gardens. Rhaenyra only paid half attention to Alicent’s chatter about her faith, just enough to nod and feign a hum of interest when necessary, she did not wish to convert to a faith that she did not believe in. Her gods were those of Old Valyria, the Fourteen Flames that was more about the deities themselves and their powers than an actual religion and it's preachers.
Both her kepus and muña talked to her about it, her papa Baelon before them even though she could not remember any of it, muña had been more of a believer than her kepus, especially in her later moons of life. Rhaenyra thought than much better gods than the pretentiousness of the Seven; though neither were providing good things for her lately much less looking out for her.
The small ceremony to put her muña’s ashes to rest on Dragonstone, where all Targaryens rested, a few days after the funeral had resonated more spiritually with Rhaenyra than the mindless words of Septon Eustace’s sermon in honor of both queen and prince.
Alicent guided her into the sept, a building just a little smaller than the simple sept in the city but more greatly decorated, and around the statues of the Seven Who Are One; the older girl paid specially attention to the maiden and the mother. After the little presentation was done, as if Rhaenyra’s septas had not explained the faith at lengths to her, Alicent took her to the middle of the sept where a big round structure was with hundreds of candles on top of it.
“Kneel with me.” Alicent asked after kneeling before the altar and lighting a candle, since she was already there Rhaenyra did it without much complaints. “I find this is a way to be with my mother. Here in the quiet of the Sept, I feel close to her… I know it sounds foolish."
“I don’t think it’s foolish.” Rhaenyra said looking at her, just then remembering Alicent lost her own mother not that long ago either.
“Good. Because I thought you might try.” She gave the princess a small smile and gave one of the sticks to her.
Rhaenyra lit the candle closest to her, it was half burned already, but found herself lost in what to do next. Although believing more in the Valyrian gods, she had never actually stop to properly pray or worship them.
“What do I say?” She whispered looking again at Alicent, almost ashamed for lacking even in something that was so simple to everyone else.
“Whatever you wish, Princess.” Alicent smiled more genuinely, happy to be getting through to the princess and then gave a slight caress to her shoulder as encouragement. “It’s only for you and the gods to know.”
There was so much Rhaenyra wished to say, wished to ask for, beg if needed but looking up to the statue of the father right in front of them, she thought it pointless. No gods were looking down at her, looking after her as they hadn’t for her muña; still she was suddenly overwhelmed by the now too familiar despairing feeling over her father's distance. The gut-wrenching feeling of her father constant overlooking her efforts as the heir he made her into, of him still not seeing her as enough.
“I want him to see me as more than his little girl.” Rhaenyra whispered before pushing the thought down as she usually did, eyes tearing up yet again.
“Mine own father does not know the language of girls either.” Alicent said gently, sympathetic about that too, then she decided to also advice the princess in a course of action that would satisfy the king. “When I wish to talk with my father, I know that I must make the effort.”
“Thank you.” She said despite not entirely in agreement with that.
Maybe Alicent was right though, maybe if she just did a bit more effort to reach out her father would finally see her, would finally reach out back. Rhaenyra hoped with all she had for that; she already has no mother anymore, her uncle was gods knew where, all she had left was her father and Baela. But she and Baela were just children, they needed someone to care for them, protect them, and be there with them not the other way around. Rhaenyra sniffled, feeling tears track down her cheeks so she hid her face into her intertwined hands, hating to be a weakling little girl in front of others.
Why did her life had to turn out this way? Why was everything so hard, so painful? What wrong did she do in another life to be reaping its consequences now in this one?
🐉👑🔥⚔️
As night fell, Rhaenyra asked her sworn knight to task a page or a servant to take word to her cousin that she would not be able to dine with her that night, she would share dinner with the king again instead.
Rhaenyra decided to follow Lady Alicent’s advice and put on more effort to bridge the gap growing between her and her father since muña’s death. Also Laena had been right, her father did love her, he did chose her independent of his reasoning for it, he would stand with her. They would stand together, Rhaenyra just needed to fight more for it, for them.
She asked her maid, Annora, to bring one of her pretty blue dresses her muña gifted her in her last name day - a blue dress for her muña, the first time she wore anything other the mourning black - while the youngest of her maids, Nayele untangled the knots that formed in her braided hair throughout the day. Once they were done, Rhaenyra put on a more comfortable pair of silk slippers, then she dismissed both women for the night, not minding to prepare for bed later by herself. She walked out of her chambers and towards the king’s apartments, Ser Criston close behind her.
“Aren’t you tired Ser Criston?” Rhaenyra asked if only to break the silence, she had quickly learned her knight liked to overdo his work, alway eager in proving his mantle as a worthy Kingsguard which was fine by her, as long as he did not fall dead from exhaustion. “You should take the night off to rest if you need. Ser Harrold surely can provide another one of the Kingsguard to guard my doors.”
“I thank you for your concern, My Princess.” Ser Criston said, walking almost beside her instead of behind. “But I’m not tired, I can guard you through the night. In the morn Ser Lorent will take my place to accompany you.”
“Well then, my good ser, I’m glad to have a capable knight protecting me in my sleep.” She joked lightly with a soft giggle. Looking over her shoulder she saw Ser Criston give a small smile, a great fit for her knight was a most serious man.
Arriving at the King’s private solar, Ser Harrold and one of the Cargyl twins – by he’s tense and serious demeanor she was almost sure it was Ser Arryk - were posted at the doors and respectfully bowed to her before opening the doors.
King Viserys was tinkering with his Valyrian model as he often did every night while the servants bustled around preparing the table for their dinner.
“Rhaenyra, my dear.” He greeted her with a wide smile then gesture for her to approach closer. “Come, let me show you the newest statues of the Fourteen the masons delivery this afternoon.”
Rhaenyra held no true interest for the model her father was creating, bigger and bigger by the day, it felt lifeless compared to the paintings and tapestries in the gallery but she smiled happy for his interest in showing it to her.
She listened to him chatter about the latest additions and point out other parts that were brand new, almost giving her a lesson about Old Valyria as if she didn’t already know but Rhaenyra let him since his attention was on her for once. Uncle Daemon made sure she held a thorough knowledge of their ancestry before she could even fully understand what he was talking about.
She would soon start doing the same for Baela, Rhaenyra thought absentmindedly nodding to her father’s words. It was a relief when dinner was announced ready, Rhaenyra was starving by now and almost feeling faint. With all the duties taking so much of her time, she had been eating less and less, sometimes too sick with worry over everything to stomach any food. Even her beloved cakes and sweets were left neglected.
The table spread was lavish, even if just for the two of them, as was her father’s preference; most of both their favorite dishes perfectly displayed in front of them. Rhaenyra filled her plate to the brim after the servants left, knowing she did not need to worry about decorum in front of the king when it came to this; somewhere in the back of her mind she worried whether Baela’s nursemaids had already fed her by now. She let her mind focus only on the food before she did actually faint and dug in with gusto just as her father did opposite her. If this was one thing they shared in common was their love for good food.
Unlike how it used to be when her muña was alive, their small family sitting close together for the meals, now whenever they shared meals together the two of them sat in opposite sides of the big table; the large space a good representation of the distance that became their relationship.
It was less uncomfortable when her father invited the Velaryons, Laena and Laenor there to distract her from the hurt this caused. In nights like this though, it was impossible to oversee and as the minutes passed, Rhaenyra appetite progressively dwindled whenever she chanced a glance at her father.
She did not even ate half her plate when her stomach revolted against more thanks to her mind focusing solely on what she could talk about with her father.
“We haven’t spoken much… Since…” Rhaenyra started, quickly trailing off unable to say the words aloud.
“A regret of mine.” Her father said sincerely after taking a sip from his goblet of wine. “We should be free to speak our minds to one another.”
“You can say whatever you’d like, father.” She said and then added in a more light tone with a small smile. “You are the King.”
Her father flashed her a weak and sad smile, not saying anything right away and Rhaenyra feared she said the wrong thing again. His expression was downcast and when he finally spoke, his voice was strained.
“I loved your mother very much.” Viserys said almost choking at the sudden tightness in his throat, emotions too much that almost made him cry.
Rhaenyra reply about loving muña too was at the tip of her tongue but then her mind caught on to the use of past tense. It felt wrong to declare love in past tense, especially the type of love her father loudly declared once to feel for his wife; it made Rhaenyra more certain of the looming threat of him moving on and marrying again.
But she quickly chastised herself, she would not achieve any improvements thinking like that, maybe she was just overthinking it and her father did not really meant it like that. Letting out a breath, she tried again with a more safe topic.
“Have I told you how Ser Harrold provided a fine field of tourney knights last moon?”
“Oh?” The king was grateful for the change of subject, not wishing to cry and show weakness in front of his daughter.
“Aye. But in questioning them, I discovered that Ser Criston Cole was the only man among them with true battle experience.” She said, knowing her father did not partake in the investiture of the Kingsguard, leaving it to his Lord Commander and Hand to oversee. "That is why I chose him."
“He’ll be a great shield to you, I’m sure.” Her father gave her a smile. “You chose well, my dear.”
“Thank you, father.” She smiled too, glad they were getting somewhere and so she decided to take the opportunity to apologize for her mistake also that same day during council sessions, they never talked about it afterwards. “That day at the Small Council…”
“Pay it no mind.” Viserys interrupted her before she could even say anything, focusing back at the food in his place. "It's something of the past now. Let's put it behind us."
“I just thought I might have had…” Rhaenyra tried again, annoyed and giving up apologizing at all but her father again did not give her time to properly say anything
“You’re young, Rhaenyra. You will learn.”
Rhaenyra felt bile rose to her throat at his dismissal, any wish to try and fix things with her father turning ashes in her mouth.
“Are you truly going to remarry, father?” Rhaenyra asked suddenly after a tense silence, not able to hold it in anymore.
“Wh-what? Why are you asking this?” Her father spluttered nervously, then narrowed his eyes. “Has Lady Laena said something to you? Rhaenys or Corlys?”
“What? No, why would they?” It was Rhaenyra’s turn to be confused but then she remembered Laena’s odd behavior earlier and it all made sense. ‘Is this what you wished to speak with me about, cousin?’ she wondered unsure on how to feel about that.
“Where did this came from then?” He asked inquisitively.
“I am no fool, father. I know the man of your council wish to replace me as heir, that only can happen if you have a son.” She answered bitterly.
“Well, it does not matter what my council wishes for.” Viserys said seriously, with such conviction she almost believed his words. “You are my choice as heir and that will remain so even if I am to have a son in the future.”
“Then there have been talks of marriage in the sessions I was not call to or dismissed from.” Rhaenyra affirmed more than asked. “It has not even been...”
“There was no talks, Rhaenyra, no need to worry about it so soon.” Her father interrupted her again, softening his voice. “I am not ready to marry just yet, my dear, the memory of your mother too fresh and painful. But I’ll have to eventually.”
“Why? You don’t need to.”
“I do, Rhaenyra. Our family number is too small, our bloodline weakened by it.” He explained in a tone as if explaining it to a child of 2. “As King I must ensure that our house is stronger again, that can only be done with more blood for my line to live on.”
“Your line will live on through me. Our numbers are just fine as it is, other families have endured longer with less.” She insisted stubbornly.
“We are not other families.” Viserys said with a sigh. “We’re Targaryen, Rhaenyra, the last of the dragonlords of old. We must consolidate our numbers so our Valyrian ancestry survives. So we can be ready for the darkness that will come one day.”
“I will do it once I’m old enough to marry.” Rhaenyra said even though the words burned acrid in her tongue. “I’ll make sure our line is strong in numbers and so will kepus, no matter how you two are angry at each other now. You don’t have to do it father.”
“Rhaenyra... My darling.” He sighed again shaking his head disapprovingly. “I’m afraid you’re much too young to truly understand...”
“I do understand, father!” She exclaimed uncaringly of interrupting the king. “You’re the one who does not understand you’ll be endangering my position by marrying and fathering more children, fathering sons.”
“There is nothing to endanger, Rhaenyra.” Viserys insisted just as stubbornly. “I already told you, this position is yours, you are and will continue to be my heir. I promise you.”
Rhaenyra slumped against the chair, feeling hopeless, there was no point in making her father see reason was there?
“Alright, father, as you say.” She muttered. “Can I be excused now? I’m tired and I still have to check on Baela before going to bed.”
“Yes, yes, darling.” Viserys readily agreed, glad to put the matter to rest. “I’ll see you on the morrow.”
She gave a slight nod before standing up and quickly walking towards the door. Rhaenyra almost sighed in relief when stepping outside into the hallway but tensed at what she ought to do now. She should be going to see Baela, her little cousin really had bee having a disheartening hard time for too many weeks now, but she needed to speak with her other cousin first.
Rhaenyra needed to know if Laena was turning out to be a backstabbing traitor instead of a friend.
--
Arriving at the Velaryons apartments within Maegor’s Holdfast, Rhaenyra made her way towards the familiar doors of Laena’s chambers and the Velaryons guards stationed there promptly opened the doors to the Princess.
“Wait here, Ser Criston. I probably won’t take long.” She said before stepping inside, the door being quietly shut behind her.
Laena was sitting at her vanity in front of the mirror, she had been brushing her wild curls but quickly put the brush away when she saw Rhaenyra entering and stood up.
“Cousin, what a surprise.” She greeted, feeling nervous all over again. “If I thought you would come I would be dressed better.”
Rhaenyra was ready to cut to the chase, ask what she came here for, but Laena’s words made had notice the older girl’s attire and that made her raise her eyebrows in question. Laena was not dressed in the usual comfortable linens of a nightshift but simply a man’s tunic that was a bit too bigger for her.
“It’s Laenor’s old tunic.” Laena explained with an awkward chuckle. “I steal the ones he doesn’t use anymore, they’re more comfortable to sleep in.”
“Huh.” Rhaenyra could agree that her nightgowns were sometimes a bit itchy, specially during warmer weather.
“But why the visit so late?” Her cousin asked curious and wary at the same time.
“How long have you known?” She asked without preambles, the more caught off guard the better for her to see through any lies. “About your parents intentions to marry you off to my father?”
“Oh.” Laena felt all energy seep from her body making her sit back down, a heavy weight been lifted from her shoulders but quickly replaced by another one. “I… I-iI… Mm… Mother told me a fortnight ago, I think… When I questioned about all the new dresses father commissioned to be done for me.”
Rhaenyra did not say anything, only looked at Laena and took in her words, absolving the information.
“Father likes to gift me new things all the time but…” Laena continued when became clear her young cousin would not speak. “It felt odd, too much all of a sudden. I’m not half the simple minded little girl they sometimes see me as… So I asked about it and mother said… Mother said father talked with the king some time ago, to propose a marriage between… Between our families.”
“And you did not think of telling me about this?” Rhaenyra finally said something, her question sounding angry at the secret kept for so many days.
“I did… But I was scared.” She answered, averting her eyes to her hands clutching each other tightly on her lap.
“Scared? Of what?”
“I know it would hurt you, your father thinking of marrying again so soon. I was… I am scared that this will make you hate me.” Laena confessed in a whisper, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. “That we will not be friends anymore.”
“I am angry now." Rhaenyra crossed her arms but she felt herself softening at her cousin’s confession. “Angry that you kept this from me, you should have come to me first thing when you heard abou it.”
“I’m sorry. I just…” Laena looked up, vision slightly blurred. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you even more.”
“Next time make sure to come to me, no matter what is it about.” She said and walked to where her cousin was. “We can only find a solution to a problem if I am aware of the problem.”
“You don’t hate me then?”
“Of course not, cousin.” Rhaenyra said reassuringly. “It made me angry and it did hurt a little but I know this is just our fathers doing…”
“It is!” Laena exclaimed too fast, needing to unburden that weight from her shoulders as well. “I mean no offense, cousin, but I do not wish to marry the king… I wouldn’t wish to if I had any choice, that is.”
“Mm.” Rhaenyra looked over Laena’s shoulder pensively for a minute. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst choice father could pick, we would be close all the time then and I know I could trust you… But if it sis something you don’t want, then we can find a way to avoid it.”
“You sound so positive.” Her cousin said with shoulders still sagged in defeat. “I’m afraid I cannot bring myself to think the same.”
“Why not?”
“The world is a harsh place to girls, Rhaenyra.” Laena’s vision blurred more and she looked down again. “It’s merciless. It only ever wants to hurt us.”
“Laena.” Rhaenyra half gasped, knowing right away her cousin must be speaking of something more than just a possible marriage to the king. ‘What cruelty has the world dealt you, cousin that you haven’t told me?’ she wondered but felt too afraid to actually ask.
“If it happens as father seems to want so much, if I marry the king, your father.” Laena looked up again when she felt less likely to burst into tears. “I want you to know I’ll not endanger you in anyway, even if my parents would wish to see a grandson… I would not betray you, Rhaenyra. You are my cousin and I care greatly for you.”
Rhaenyra smiled appreciative of her words though that may not matter, as she wisely put it the world was too merciless on them. At least she would know it would not be Laena’s wish, it would not be her hands, both of them just powerless to fight against the men around them.
“Let’s talk more tomorrow, yes?” Rhaenyra suggested invitingly. “I still need to check on Baela.”
“Of course. You know where to find me.” Laena gave her a tentative and small smile.
Rhaenyra brought her hand to Laena’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze, another gesture of reassurance that things were fine, would be fine between them. As long as they stood together and did not let people set them apart, all would be alright. Eventually. Someday.
--
“Wouldn’t it be better to go to your chambers, My Princess?” Ser Criston broke the silence while they walked to the other side of the holdfast where the nursery was; thankfully her rooms were not too far from there. “It’s already much too late.”
“I know, Ser Criston but I cannot be remiss in seeing to my little cousin.” Rhaenyra said, pulled away from her whirlwind of thoughts. “Baela has not been feeling too good lately.”
“You are much too thoughtful, Your Highness.” Her knight said and Rhaenyra could swear there was a hint of proudness behind his words.
“Thank you, my good ser.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence again, Rhaenyra’s mind repetitively thinking about how a common knight could feel proud of her but her own father could not find it in him to even try. Her thoughts were interrupted again when Rhaenyra heard loud wails as soon as they reached the nursery hallway, she did not thought twice before running off.
The sole household guard standing by the door made no move to stop Rhaenyra when she all but burst the door open violently. The scene unfolding inside the nursery was too confused for her to understand and Baela's painful cries cut right through Rhaenyra’s heart, the desperation of it was undeniable and she could not fathom what could be so wrong her little cousin was crying this way for help.
One of the Grandmaester’s acolytes were there as well as one of the septas standing by the side talking between themselves while Baela’s two caretakers surrounded a disheveled and frightened wet-nurse who was already in tears too trying to calm Baela. Her cousin’s face was so red it was almost purple, eyes swollen and Rhaenyra wondered how long exactly had she been crying and why had no one thought in calling for her.
“What is happening here?” Rhaenyra asked loudly walking fast towards her cousin.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, I’m sorry.” The wet-nurse, she was almost sure her name was Zaida, sobbed not stopping to rock Baela. “She won’t eat anything and she won’t stop crying.”
“I can see that!” She snapped and almost snatched Baela from the woman. It worked like magic, as soon as her little cousin was in her arms her cries died down to whimpers while her little hands held on to Rhaenyra’s dress tightly, her tears wetting Rhaenyra’s neck. “I’m here, cousin. It’s alright now. I’m here. Whatever did they do to you?”
While gently swaying with Baela, Rhaenyra wished her cousin had learned to speak already, all Baela could say was still unintelligent words but for the words ‘pa’ and ‘ag’. Rhaenyra mentioned uncle Daemon only as kepa to Baela and spoke too much about her dragonegg that it was no surprise those were her first words.
“What do you mean she won’t eat?” Rhaenyra asked once Baela calmed down more, not caring about the looks they were giving her.
“Since this morning she refuses to eat anything than isn’t breastmilk.” One of the caretakers Rhaenyra made no effort to learn the name of, she did not like either of them.
“And Zayla’s breast is almost dried, there is not enough to properly sustain a child throughout the day.” The other one added.
Rhaenyra looked to the wet-nurse for confirmation but the woman just averted her teary eyes and mumbled an apology.
“Why haven’t you come to me earlier then? It’s been a whole day.” Rhaenyra looked back at them with indignation and anger.
“You are much too busy, My Princess.” The septa was the one to answer, approaching them with the acolyte right behind. “We did not wish to disturb you nor the King with a simple child’s tantrum.”
“What do you know of children, have you one of your own?” Rhaenyra sneered at the woman. “It’s clearly not just a tantrum. Something is wrong, what is it?”
“It do-doesn’t seem to be anything wrong.” The acolyte squeaked with both the princess and the septa looking at him. “I could not say what could possibly be making the little lady refuse the food and she won’t take any medicine either.”
“If you are so incompetent then why hasn’t a maester or a more able acolyte be called hours ago?” She looked at each one of them with fire in her violet eyes. “Are all of them too busy to see to a babe too?”
They did not utter a word of response and Rhaenyra huffed in annoyance. If she had not come would they simply leave Baela go hungry until tomorrow? Would they just watch while she suffered from whatever may be ailing her? Despicable and unacceptable behavior.
“You two are dismissed as my cousin caretakers. I will find better and more competent ones to actually care for her.” Rhaenyra said looking at the two women with utter contempt; hate all she might that Camellia whore but at least she did took good care of her cousin. “And you, find a wet-nurse that does not have dry breasts.”
“Of course, Your Grace, of course.” The woman promptly agreed, almost seeming relieved by it which confused Rhaenyra.
“My Princess, you cannot…” The septa started but Rhaenyra had heard too much of that for a day.
“I am the princess and heir to the throne.” She said straightened herself as best as possible with the weight of Baela against her chest. “I can and I will. Be grateful I have no authority yet to dismiss you two as well. Your behavior towards a royal member of the Targaryen family is unacceptable and my father will hear about this. So will Baela’s father.”
Rhaenyra turned on her heels and walked out of the nursery before they could say anything else. She knew the likelihood of her father caring about whatever had happened to Baela was low so her threat did not hold much to it which is why she made a point in reminding them who Baela’s father was. They clearly forget she was the Rogue Prince’s one and only daughter or else they would not have acted as such.
“I’m sorry I did not come sooner, little darling.” Rhaenyra whispered while walking to her own chambers. “If I had known I would not have let them do this to you.”
“Pa.” Was Baela’s babbled response, her brown eyes still red from crying but much more lively looking at Rhaenyra, then she put her thumb into her mouth and rested her head on Rhaenyra’s shoulder again.
“I’m afraid he won’t be coming back anytime soon, cousin.” She said with a sad frown. “I know he would if I could send word people here aren’t treating you well but I don’t know where he’s hiding at.”
When they reached her quarters, Rhaenyra turned to Ser Criston who stayed silent through it all though she could now see he was sporting a frown of his own.
“Ser Criston, fetch a maester for my cousin.” She asked, still worried something truly bad might be wrong with Baela. “I trust Maester Barry is a more competent one.”
“I will see it done, My Princess. It was most irresponsible of them not have done it sooner.” Ser Criston commented displeased, no matter he held nothing but contempt for Prince Daemon, his daughter was just an innocent babe who deserved the best treatment as her high station demanded.
“It was, my good ser.” Rhaenyra was grateful at least someone could see that. “While at it, send word for the cooks to prepare a late night snack. Fruits and some honeyed bread, as well as strawberry tarts and juice, she likes it. And a slice of lemon cake for me if there’s any left.”
Ser Criston bowed in agreement to her orders and waited until both little girls were safely inside the princess chambers to go fetch a page or servant to dole out the princes request.
--
The maester arrived first than their food, Maester Barry as soft speaking as he always was questioned Rhaenyra about her cousin situation. Baela started crying again, not as violently as before, when Rhaenyra made to put her on the bed so the maester could examine her, she clung to her hard and kept whining ‘pa’ non stop. Rhaenyra actually cursed uncle Daemon for the first time ever, angered he was doing just like her father; her kepus was supposed to be better not exactly like his brother.
It was with much coaxing Rhaenyra finally was able to calm Baela again and coaxed her to lay down and let the maester do his work. That only angered her more, the situation could have been resolved by now if only those incompetent people had called for her sooner.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the little one, My Princess.” Maester Barry said once he was done examining Baela. “There is no fever, she doesn’t seem to have stomach cramps or any other affliction that are common in children her age.” He continued, his lack of worrying easing Rhaenyra’s mind a little. “Almost all of her first teeth came out already but there might still be a bit of discomfort which could explain her moodiness.”
“She really looked in pain, maester.” Rhaenyra said still worried all the same and picked Baela again who was waving her little arms towards her.
“Well, My Princess, she cannot speak yet so she must do what she can to show any sort of discomfort, even if a small one.” The maester explained. “There is no need to worry, alright? Since she seems at ease with you, let’s see if she is able to eat now. If not and she starts crying again, call me right away and we can check again.”
“Alright, maester.”
“You said she does not want any medicine either so let’s avoid any more distress for her this night. Forcing to give it to her might have also caused all the crying.” Maester Barry continued, clear dissatisfied with that. “I’ll be talking with that acolyte, have nor worries, My Princess. I’ll send a cup of camomile tea though that might help calm her nerves and allow her to sleep better.”
“Thank you, maester.” Rhaenyra was relieved she had been right in calling for him, a young maester, than one of those old wrinkled man. “But wouldn’t sweetsleep be a better option? It has been very helpful to me.”
“Who’s giving you sweetsleep, Princess Rhaenyra?” The maester asked tersely, looking at her worriedly.
“Maester Mellos gives it to me sometimes, when it is too hard for me to fall asleep.”
“I will be having words with him too then.” He said almost angrily. “He should not be giving it to you like this. At all if avoidable, it can be harmful to children.”
“Oh.” Rhaenyra gaped at the maester, stunned at that.
“Camomile is a much better choice, a child’s constitution allows it to be more potent than it is for adults. And it causes not harm.”
“I-I did not know.”
“It is not your place to know, My Princess. That is what we maesters are here for.” Maester Barry have her a smile. “I’ll sent two cups of the tea, then. From now on tell me whenever you require it, My Princess, I will personally brew it for you”
“Alright.” She nodded, not knowing what else to say, and watched the young maester leave her chambers.
Now Rhaenyra was worried she might be worsening things for herself by following Maester Mellos ill-advice since he was clearly as inept as that acolyte.
When the food finally arrived, Baela was almost asleep and it was another fight to make her wake up enough to eat. Once she did though she attacked everything Rhaenyra offered her avidly, making an utter mess of hers and Rhaenyra’s dress, and that only confused Rhaenyra more about why she did not want to eat before.
Were those people actually mistreating her cousin in some way? If Rhaenyra found out they were, they would be talking with Syrax next. The wet-nurse seemed genuinely regretful, she might be able to get better answers from her if they talked alone.
Something to do on the morrow, right now Rhaenyra focused all her attention in properly feeding an half-starved Baela, then cleaning and readying both of them for bed. After drinking the tea Maester Barry sent, Baela again needing many reassurances to also take it, Rhaenyra slid them under the warm and comfortable furs, both of them snuggled against each other as they used to sleep once. Rhaenyra’s eyelids were almost dropping closed when Baela babbled.
“Ag.” Her brown eyes shined up at Rhaenyra in the low-lit room.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling.” Rhaenyra whispered and gave a kiss to her temple. “I forgot to bring it. We will get it tomorrow.”
It didn’t take long for the tea do its work and Rhaenyra fell easily asleep as she hadn’t in a long time, in a total different way than when she drank sweetsleep, it felt more natural. Rhaenyra did not see her little cousin stay awake for a while longer and happily squeal ‘ag’ again when in another room a pale green dragonegg had its first crack.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra was mindlessly listening to her cousin Laena and Lucile Strong conversation, she would rather be flying on Syrax for these couple of hours of free time she gained today than to be drinking tea and gossiping.
Unfortunately her golden lady has not been in the best of moods lately; the dragonkeepers claimed she was becoming a bit too wild with all the freedom to fly around and hunt whenever she wanted. Although they did not say it in a bad way, Ser Otto interpreted it that way and convinced her father it was best if the young dragon was chained as the other ones in the dragonpit.
Rhaenyra had stomped her feet, had pouted in indignation and did not care to throw a tantrum in the middle of a council session, Syrax was her dragon she was the one who should be saying how her dragon should be treated not some Andal vermin. That only hardened the king’s resolve, alleging that perhaps the dragon’s wild mood was influencing hers as well.
‘What do you know of dragons, father you did not have Balerion for even a year.’ She had snapped at her father before bolting out of the council chamber to go cry in her room.
After she cried all the tears she had, Rhaenyra went down to the dragonpit to make sure her girl would be as comfortable as possible; her attempt did not work to avoid Syrax angrily snapping her teeth at Rhaenyra and throwing a dragonkeeper harshly into the cave wall with a swipe of her tail once the chains clicked closed.
She could feel the anger and the hurt through their bond, that only made Rhaenyra feel worse to actually know what her girl felt being betrayed like that. It was as if Rhaenyra was doing to Syrax what her father has been doing to her.
Her musings were interrupted when Ser Criston knocked on the doors before entering her antechamber.
“My Princess.” Her new sworn shield greeted with a deep bow making Rhaenyra give a small smile his way. “The Master of Law, Lord Strong’s son, Ser Harwin is here. He wishes to see you.”
“What could your brother want?” Rhaenyra turned to Lucile curiously.
“I cannot say, Princess.” The Strong girl answered, with a shrug of the shoulder. “Harwin is much occupied with his City Watch duties. He barely comes around anymore.”
“Well then let him in, Ser Criston.” She said looking back at her kingsguard.
Ser Criston bowed again, one of the very few people to show her true respect and deference these days, then walked back to the double doors and opened one to allow the other knight in.
“Princess Rhaenyra.” Lucile’s older brother said with a slight bow of the head. “Sister, Lady Laena.”
“Long time no see, brother.” Lucile replied with a grin while Laena gave a polite smile of greeting.
“What is it that you wish to speak with me, Ser Harwin?” Rhaenyra asked feeling genuine interest for whatever he had to say, especially considering he was one of her uncle’s loyal gold cloaks.
Ser Harwin looked over at her sworn shield standing by the door before also looking between his own sister and Laena, then focusing his brown eyes on her again.
“It is alright, ser. My sworn knight is loyal to me, you can speak freely in his presence as well as my cousin and your sister.” She said in reassurance, for clear whatever it was it was supposed to be something private. “Close the doors, please, Ser Criston.”
Her knight obeyed as quickly as he always did, though that did not seem to easy Ser Harwin’s mind he still gave a few steps closer to them before taking something hidden beneath his gold cloak.
“Commander Luthor has received this from… From Prince Daemon.” Ser Harwin said.
Those words had an instant effect on the room, Ser Criston expression darkened while he brought his hand to the hilt of his sword and both Laena and Lucile let out a soft gasp. It was so amusing to Rhaenyra how even all the way across the sea her kepus was still able to cause a ruckus by the mere mention of his name.
“Did he send it for me?” Rhaenyra asked already with her hand outstretched.
“Aye, Princess.” He confirmed and walked closer so he could deposit the small envelop in her hand. “Commander Luthor wanted to come himself but things have been busy on the streets lately, so he sent me to deliver it to you.”
“Does he know where my uncle is?” She asked instinctively, turning the envelope one way and the other to gauge if there was anything else other than paper inside.
“Somewhere in Essos but we could not say where. The sailor that delivered it scurried right off with no other words than who it was from and who to give it to.” Ser Harwin answered honestly.
“Mmm.” Rhaenyra looked up at him again and gave a small smile in gratitude. “Thank you, ser. And tell your commander my thanks as well.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” He gave another small bow of the head and then turned to leave, both he and Ser Criston eying each other warily.
Rhaenyra clutched the envelope to her chest, then looked at her cousin and Lucile.
“I apologize, my friends but I guess we will have to cut our tea time short.” She said and gave them an apologetic smile. “It is been too long since I had any news from my uncle.”
“Of course, cousin.”, “We understand, Princess.” The two girl said at the same time.
“Let’s meet again this week, yes?” She suggested, just so they would not be offended or hurt and lose interest in her company. “If I can find some more free time, I’ll arrange for us to have tea and cakes in the gardens next time.”
“We know how busy you are, Princess Rhaenyra. Whenever you can, I’ll be available and make time for you.” Lucile smiled sincerely at her, then gave a slight curtsey. “Excuse me, I’ll hurry to try catching up with my brother.”
“She is right, cousin.” Laena said while they watched Lucile sprint out of the room. “Just call on me whenever you can or want to, alright?”
Rhaenyra nodded, though still not entirely believing in that seeing as people tend to abandon her way too often. Laena smiled at her and gave her own curtsey before turning to leave, her cousin had become quite clingy ever since Rhaenyra assured they would find a way to avoid any possible royal betrothal to happen. So far Rhaenyra had been unable to think of anything useful and actually could only see how Laena was the best choice once her father and his council did plan for a new marriage.
“Is it wise to keep that, My Princess?” Her sworn knight asked after the doors closed again, leaving them alone, it was no surprise Ser Criston might not like anything related to her kepus, the two seem to held tightly on to a grudge against each other despite being even with their tourney victories. “Should you not give it to His Grace straight away?”
“No, I should not.” Rhaenyra said a bit snappish, as was often the case whenever people invoked her father’s name to say what she should or should not be doing. “My uncle must simply be sending letters recounting the tales of his new adventures across the Narrow Sea. Nothing serious to bother the king with.”
“As you wish, My Princess.” Ser Criston agreed, knowing by now there was no changing the little princess mind when it concerned her rake of an uncle.
“Let me know if anything arises before it is time for dinner.” She stood up. “I’ll stay in my room until then. I would like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon alone.”
Ser Criston bowed his agreement and then left, closing the doors behind him.
Rhaenyra gave a sigh of relief for finally being alone, looking down at the envelope in her hands she smiled. Whatever had uncle Daemon sent her? Would she know where he was? Could she now have a return address where to send him letters to? Rhaenyra hope so, there was so much she needed to tell him, so much advice she would like to ask of him.
The most important of all was the fact Baela’s dragonegg had started to crack, everyday there was a new little crack in it, though the dragonkeers said they were too small for the dragon within to be born yet but a good sign it would soon. Uncle Daemon would be ecstatic to know that. Rhaenyra was ecstatic about it and Baela now looked happier than ever, clinging to her dragonegg at all times.
She walked to her sleeping chambers, closing the door with a loud click and then took her slippers off before throwing herself on her bed. Whatever was inside the envelope was sure to be good, her kepus always only ever gifted her good things.
Taking out the papers inside, Rhaenyra frowned over the confusing sloppy drawings on the papers not understanding whatever uncle Daemon had sent. It wasn’t until she got to one particular paper that she finally understood. In his impeccable High Valyrian, uncle Daemon explained these were some of the paths of the castle’s secret tunnels, that he thought best to risk sending it for he knew it might come in handy for her someday.
Fortunately, whoever her kepus employed in delivering these was trustworthy enough and delivered it sealed and safe.
Ever since finding out there was a secret door in her room that led to a secret tunnel that spanned almost the entirety of the Red Keep, Rhaenyra had wished to go in there to explore it. Now she could. With a giggle she sat up in bed and spread the papers on her bed, they were not in any order but uncle Daemon scrawls guided her in piecing it together properly, to understand the tunnels twists and turns.
In theory at least. Rhaenyra would have to put it into practice soon, if the path in the paper was right she could easily sneak into the council chambers whenever her father did not want her to hear whatever went inside.
By the time she was done thoroughly analysing each paper and drawing, the sun had almost set and night was quickly creeping in. Rhaenyra put the papers back inside the envelope and pushed it under her pillow before standing up to leave; she needed to check on Baela before going to have dinner with her father.
After what had happened over a fortnight ago, Rhaenyra had boldly admonished Grandmaester Runciter for his incompetent acolyte in front of the whole council a day after the occurrence. Her father had not liked her tone but liked even less to know about what had transpired, the first time he showed any interest for his niece’s wellbeing. Things would have taken a bad turn Rhaenyra was sure by the look Ser Otto gave her but thankfully Lord Beesbury intervened before anything else was said.
The Master of coin offered for Baela to be looked after by the caretakers of his youngest granddaughter that was not much older than Baela. Her father thought it a wonderful idea and once Rhaenyra met the women, as well as Lord Beesbury good daughter, she agreed it was a good solution. Her cousin now spent most of her time between the royal nursery, the wing where the Beesburys resided and the gardens, not being left alone anymore all the time while Rhaenyra was busy like before.
Rhaenyra was happy to see her little cousin be around and having children her age to play with unlike her.
She found Baela again at the Beesburys’ apartments playing in the nursery with Tilda, Lord Beesbury youngest granddaughter and Brenda the slightly older one while the girls’ mother, Enid, and the two maids were sat doing some needle work.
“Nya!” Baela screamed the newest word she learned days ago, better said than any other, making Rhaenyra smile wide, and stood up to walk towards her, though she more stumbled than actually walked.
“Hello, little darling.” Rhaenyra greeted her crouching down and catching her into a hug. “Are you behaving yourself?”
“Wonderfully.” Lady Enid answered, standing up with the others to give a curtsy to the princess. “She is very well behaved, My Princess. But more prone to mischief than most one year olds I’ve known.”
“Well, she’s my uncle’s daughter.” Rhaenyra said standing up again and picking Baela up. “Is she still eating well?”
“She and my Tilda do a competition to see who eats more every time, Princess.” Lady Enid answered and then frowned. “I cannot really imagine whatever problem happened.”
“I cannot either, my lady but I’m glad she is being properly looked after now.” She said in gratitude. “I just came to give her a kiss, I’ll be dining with my father soon. If she has problem sleeping like last time, bring her to my chambers.”
“We will, Your Highness.” The two maids said in unison.
“I’ll come pick you up in the morning, cousin.” Rhaenyra looked at Baela, wide brown eyes looking back at her. “By then I just might be able to sneak us into the dragonpit. Would you like to see Syrax again?”
“Ag.” Baela smiled and clapped her hands.
“Yes, you can bring your dragonegg if you want.” She said and then kissed her cousin’s forehead before putting her back down.
After saying her good night to the three women, and again thanking their care of Baela, Rhaenyra made her way to the King’s quarters. She held no wish to go through another tense and silence filled dinner with her father but he had invited her that morning so do it she must.
She arrived at the King’s solar at the same time his Lord Hand was exiting. By the glinting in Ser Otto's eyes when he slightly bowing his head as a greeting and the nervous way her father greeted her a minute later, Rhaenyra knew whatever they were discussing was bad news for her. She decided not to ask anything, too tired for any discussion whatever it was would ensue between them.
With Maiden’s Day approaching, Rhaenyra was tasked in organizing a brunch for all the ladies of the court for when they returned from the sept; usually a ball was thrown in celebration of it and for all the still unmarried maidens but since they were still in the mourning period for the Queen that could not be done. A garden brunch was Septon Eustace suggestion. Fortunately, Lady Alicent had eagerly offered to help and had done so avidly which would have made Rhaenyra roll her eyes if the older girl’s help hadn’t relived most of that particular burden from Rhaenyra’s tired shoulders.
Rhaenyra quickly excused herself when they were done eating, needing to get a start in exploring those tunnels; her father looked a bit dejected at her hurry to leave but let her without any insistence. She almost skipped while walking to her chambers, actually excited about something in what felt like too long.
Fortunately, tonight she would be guarded by Ser Steffon so it would be easier to sneak out into the secret passages without her too vigilant knight outside her door; she ordered she would not be disturbed in any way unless it was the king or her little cousin in need of her. Once the doors were closed, she as silently as possible locked them and prayed there would be no need for the Kingsguard to knock and call for her.
Rhaenyra closed the doors to her sleeping room but did not lock it, then hurriedly changed into an older dress – she remembered seeing dirty smudges on her kepus clothes whenever he came through the secret door – and put on her riding boots in case the walk would be long. She sat down on her bed and picked the envelope again, deciding to study the ‘maps’ again before venturing inside the tunnels.
She read it again and again until she could envision in her minds eyes a good number of the lines drawn by Uncle Daemon and where they led. Rhaenyra smiled satisfied with herself, confidant she would not get lost so she went to stand in front of where she saw her kepus step out of whenever he used the tunnel leading to her chambers and pushed aside the tapestry hanging there. Uncle Daemon only said that she needed to press the right spot for the stone doors to open but did not say where exactly were these right spots.
Rhaenyra started pressing the wall, or what was supposed to be just a wall, especially close to the places where she could feel cold air passing through to stone. She growled in frustration when nothing worked and the door stayed unmoved, she was about to start actually punching the damn thing when finally her hand pressed against the right spot. The familiar sound of stone gridding against stone echoed in the room and Rhaenyra giggled but then huffed in irritation again when pulling the stone opened proved to be a battle.
It was too heavy so Rhaenyra had to use all her strengthen to pull it open and it was with a loud sigh of relief she finally did it, the thick stone opening to a darkened and small corridor. With a candle in one hand and her maps in the other, Rhaenyra stepped into the tunnel.
She left the door open and the light of her room illuminated the tunnel for a little but soon she found herself in utter darkness but for the single candle in her hand. ‘I should have stolen a torch someway first.’ Rhaenyra thought when it proved quite tricky to illuminate the path ahead while needing to read the map. It was until she came across the first turn of the tunnel that her candle illuminated a torch hanging on the wall.
“Why didn’t you write this down, kepus?” She asked out loud, her voice echoing in the silent darkness.
Rhaenyra put the papers on the floor and then reached out to pick the torch from its place on the wall, having to really stand on the tip of her toes to be able to. She smiled triumphantly when the torch came to life and illuminated the space around her a lot more; now with proper light to better see she found many more torches littering the walls of the tunnel. Rhaenyra wondered if the ones fully used had stayed lit well after uncle Daemon left and if he had been the one to replace them whenever needed.
She would have despaired at the prospect of having to do that too but she was too happy and excited about this whole adventure to care about anything else. She had always wished uncle Daemon would take her on an adventure and even if he was not here, he still was the one to help open the doors for her very first adventure. This was the closest to adventure Rhaenyra would ever get to have, she knew, her position as more than princess now but the heir extinguished any small chances to go chase adventures across the Narrow Sea.
Despite uncle Daemon clear path to walk through the tunnels, Rhaenyra still got lost for a few minutes when she took a wrong turn and would have gone deeper into an unknown path if she had not have the forethought to light the torches along the way she made. After the little scare, she decided to keep to the tunnels inside Maegor’s Holdfast only for now, according to uncle Daemon they were the best ones build and the safest to travel through with little wrong turns to take.
After walking through the paths twice in an attempt to learn her way around faster, Rhaenyra decided to finally have the courage to go visit her muña’s quarters. She had not set foot in there ever since her death, too scared muña’s presence would not be lingering there in any way or that the memory of the day of her death would be too obvious to see. Rhaenyra knew though that the queen’s quarters had been entirely closed off to everyone but a few selected servants for many days after her death; it was almost a moon after that the king ordered it reopened again to be aired and dusted off, and for the queen’s belongings to be properly cared for.
That thought reminded Rhaenyra again of the looming remarriage of her father and she wondered what would happen to her muña’s things once a betrothal was announced and the queen chambers reorganized for its new occupant. Could she ask it was all taken to her own rooms instead? Could she beg her father to move the future new queen chambers somewhere else?
She would surely try at least, Rhaenyra did not want her muña’s jewels and dresses worn by someone else, even if that someone could well be her cousin Laena. It would be obscenely wrong.
Rhaenyra stopped by the door that would lead into the queen’s private solar instead of the sleeping room as Rhaenyra’s secret door led; as per uncle Daemon’s words a dragon was drawn to indicate each place where a door was and to open from inside the tunnel you only needed to push. She thought it would be as complicated as pulling her door open but this time the door slid open rather easily and almost without any noise, it was lighter and less thick than the one in her room was.
Rhaenyra let out a shaking breath when she stepped into her muña’s private solar, seeing everything exactly as it was before her death, not a single thing different or out of order. She walked slowly through the room, touching some of the furniture and allowing the memories she had of her muña there wash over her mind; surprisingly she did not feel like crying as she thought she would.
Making her way towards the door that would lead to the antechamber, the closer Rhaenyra got to the doors the louder she heard murmurings, people talking and she frowned. Was her father here, was he talking to muña’s presence? Putting her ear to the door she could almost make out two female voices which frightened at the same time that confused her. Rhaenyra could not think of a reason why people would be in the queen’s chamber so late at night.
She carefully opened the left door, she knew the right creaked a little when opened, just enough to be able to hear and peek inside. Looking through the small space Rhaenyra saw two maidservants cleaning and organizing the room, not at all the time for such thing but maybe since there was no one staying here they thought it best to do it now. Either way she could not tell them to go away so she could be with her muña in peace, word would certainly get to the king and she could not risk new little secret.
Rhaenyra was ready to turn around and leave, come back another time, when one of the maids spoke up again.
“Has the King come here any more?” One of them asked distractedly dusting a shelf.
“Not for some moons, I heard. He prefers to stay locked up after dinner with the little princess.”
“Good. He could not have bothered to come here after what he di….”
“Shhshsh!” The other older servant quickly shushed her looking over with disapproval. “We don’t know if that’s what happened. Even if it is we should not speak of it.”
“Why else would all of Queen Aemma’s maids flee? Kaliel said little Gya looked really scared. I think the King threatened them into silence and sent them away.”
“It stinks more of the Hand’s dirty work.” The older woman scoffed, forgetting her earlier disapproval. “King Viserys is much too weak-minded to plot such things.”
“Not weak minded enough not to order his own wife, the Queen, gutted open like a fish instead of letting her birth the babe as a woman should be allowed to.” The younger servant said with disgust.
Rhaenyra felt her whole entire world break at those words, the floor disappeared under her feet and she felt herself falling down, down, down into the darkest of pits.
‘No, no, no, it cannot be true. He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.’ Rhaenyra repeatedly in her head but no matter how much she did it the words felt less true than that of the servant’s.
“A babe that didn’t live a day. The King should have let Queen Aemma die in piece instead of torturing her that way.”
“Grandmaester Rucinter should not have suggested it in the first place. He is sure to be the one to have done that.”
“Old crone that he is, must have thought right to do something so barbaric to a woman. Poor Queen Aemma, she did not deserve a cruel and painful death like that.”
“Poor Princess Rhaenyra.” The older maid said, looking genuinely sorrowful. “Have you see how sad she looks all the time? She even lost weight, the poor girl.”
“The King was even cruller making her heir now after killing her mother for a son. And they whisper Prince Daemon is Maegor come again.”
‘Killing her mother for a son.’ The words echoed in Rhaenyra’s mind. ‘Father killed my mother for a son. He killed my mother. He killed her.’
She bolted out of the room, uncaringly if she made any noises or not, she needed to get out of there, she needed air. She couldn’t breathe, her chest was caving in on itself, breaking inside out.
The next minutes were a blur to Rhaenyra, she did not see where she was running to, she did not hear if anyone passed by and called for her, she could not see anything, she could not think, she could not breathe. Her mind repeated those words on a loop, imagining the words her father said to order his wife killed, conjuring images of how her muña must have been cut open. Screaming in pain.
‘Gutted like a fish. He had her killed and discarded like she was nothing.’ She thought, mind clearing just enough to notice she fell down in some corner of an empty hallway somewhere along the way, body slumped on the floor in a heap. Rhaenyra sat up, cold hands trembling on the stone floor, and with great difficult she forced her legs to stand up; she faintly felt her knees and her left shoulder throb in pain. She forced her feet to walk, to move her forward and not give up under her again.
Rhaenyra walked through the deserted corridors like a wraith in the dark night, like a ghost haunting the place. And she felt dead enough she just might have turned into a ghost. Her brain stopped working properly, she could not grasp onto any particular thoughts, her mind a whirlwind of too much too loudly. It wasn't until she heard the familiar clink-clink of chains that the foggy lift up for a moment.
Coming right towards her was Grandmaester Rucinter, looking at her with judgment and words of disapproval ready on his tongue, she was sure.
Again, Rhaenyra lost all senses all at once, one second she was standing frozen watching in horror the maester approach her and then the next second she felt something collide into her hands.
Then the silence of the night was filled with the sounds of bones breaking. Rhaenyra gaped at the sight of the maester’s twisted body down on the stairs steps, she had not even noticed they were walking by it, she could not understand how he had gotten there.
‘Did I do this? Was this me?’ She thought horrified but then she remembered those words. The why she got there in the first place and all dread, fear and regret vanished into nothing.
“H-he-help.” Grandmaester Rucinter sputtered out, not dead yet. “Pr-pr-prin…. Hel…”
Rhaenyra sneered down at the pathetic old man, not minding his twisted limbs and the blood he gurgled out of his foul mouth. She stepped down the stairs towards him, slowly so he would spend more time feeling every broken bone, feeling everything hurt.
“Pri-prin-cess.” He was able to gurgle out when she stood by his head, blood splattering on the hem of her dress.
“Did she ask for help?” Rhaenyra asked in a cold voice, expression blank while staring down at him. “My mother, did she beg for help while you killed her?”
The Grandmaester’s eyes widened and it was all the answer Rhaenyra needed, still she asked again.
“Did she cry and scream? Did you listen? Did you stop?” She crouched down beside his prone broken body. “Did you enjoy it?”
Grandmaester Rucinter tried to call for help again but only blood came out of his mouth and a pitiful groan on pain.
“You killed my mother, Grandmaester. You killed the Queen.” Rhaenyra said bringing her hands to rest against his side, mind fully conscious and clear now. “Thereof I sentence you to die.”
Rhaenyra pushed the Grandmaester’s body the rest of the way to the next set of stairs, just a very short distance, but enough to make him squeal like a dying pig at having his broken body dragged like that. Once he was right by the edge it was as easy as the first time for Rhaenyra to give another push and watch his body roll down the rest of the way to the bottom of the stairs.
Blood quickly pooled under the Grandmaester head and spread through the floor, which probably meant his head broke open like a melon and that made Rhaenyra smile.
It was an odd feeling to feel so at peace after killing someone. Vengeance for her mother trumping any other feelings. All that mattered to Rhaenyra was that Queen Aemma Targaryen got justice. That she, Rhaenyra, was the one to punish her mother’s executioner.
Notes:
I really went all the way out with this one didn’t I? ^_^' But this is it folks, the point of no return for babygirl alright
Let me know what is your thoughts, if you liked it leave those kudo&comments that are very much appreciated :D*105 Rhaenyra*: has murderous thoughts
*106 Rhaenyra*: does murderous acts
When I put that dark Rhaenyra tag, I meant it 🤭Tbh I pondered over this decision/scene A LOT, it was an idea I thought of very early on in the story and almost gave up on it several times but in the end this moment for me felt too good to be discard 🤷🏾
The same way something can cause a grown adult to go into shock, have a panic attack, mind go puff for a second & etc, so it can even more easily happen to an undeveloped child’s mind, at least in my unprofessional but very personal experience. I leaned into that to reason Rhae's actions here which is why this last part of the chapter might seem a little confusing and off somehow, it is supposed to be out of sorts because that is how babe Rhae's mind worked during those fateful minutesI'll never get over how the showrunners truly tried to paint Alicent as some victim. Like hello? She's sneaking into Vizzy's chambers behind her "friend" back, then unashamedly goes to pray at the *sept* and says to Rhaenyra, the freaking heir, she is not supposed to worry about the matters of lords and kings? Girlfriend you ain't fooling me, bye 🙄
I'll never shut up about the disservice the series did to book Alicent's characterAnd no, Laena aint pulling an Alicent 2.0 🤭 Here she is indeed just a little girl put into a impossible position by her father (and to some extent her mother too) with very little options but she still does what in her mind is the right thing to protect the still fledging friendship she's building with Rhae
Since we don't have all that much canon storyline/backstory for her I've had to came up with some little ideas/plots to give her more substance. And to explain some of her actions a little further into the story 🤗
Corlys like Viserys is not going to see what will hit in the face till its too lateTo anyone who suspected "someone/s" might try to poison Baela without Daemon around, you were right 💔 Despite everything, she can still represent a threat plus for "them" the less Targaryen dragonlings around the better
And no I have not forgotten Rhea is her mother, we getting into that very soon. Baela egg started hatching for a reason, its timing is just perfect 😏One grey rat out, too many to go still. No need to worry about maester Barry, he's part of the group of maesters not involved or even aware of 'the conspiracy' 🤞🏽 In canon Rhae has Gerardys in Dragonstone so I thought fair for her to have at least one good maester on her side in KL too
What do you guys think Otto & Vizzy the clown were talking about? Nothing good at all I assure you!
If you interested for some story visuals, here are the links:
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-16/
For the RK art gallery I imagined it something like this: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/4e/88/7c/4e887c1bd3aa1235d5d15714067266b6.jpg
Rhaenyra's blue dress: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f1/f7/24/f1f72446b271d249b890de5ad9be06ba.jpgSee you all next year!!!
Kisses <3
Chapter 18: Chapter Seventeen: 106 AC Part II
Notes:
Heelloooou lovelies 🙆🏾♀️
Here's the first update of this new year!!
This chapter was supposed to be another monstrosity but since today is my bday I decided to divide it to post this part now already so you guys appreciation for my story will be my gift 🥳🥰Reminder that the chapters contain dialogues, or better mildly altered versions of the dialogues/scenes, from the show thereof these parts were not created by me but by HotD creators!
High Valyrian is bold-italics
If you're interested for a more 'series complaint' fic with Rhaenyra already a big girl, I have another story in the works: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52138687
Have a fun reading!!
I'll see you in the end notes 😘
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra sat by the fireplace for hours after returning to her room.
After killing the Grandmaester, she returned to her chambers in a fug like state with her mind buzzing but entirely unfocused, still she had clarity enough to retrace her steps back hurriedly to avoid being caught. It had been lucky enough there was no guards or servants or sneaky courtiers walking around that late at night.
Rhaenyra returned to her munã’s chambers to get back into the tunnels, unable to remember any other secret entrances, picked the maps she had left there in her hasty exit and then made her way back to her own rooms.
Just when she finally exhaled and inhaled breaths that felt like she had been holding for hours, just then Rhaenyra mind cleared from the haze and the shock. Still she remained numb to what she had done, not caring about it as she knew she should. Rhaenyra instead felt righteous in her anger, righteous to kill the man that tortured her mother to death, and the bloodstains drying in her hands made her proud not disgusted.
The hem of her dress was unsalvageable, there was no way she could reasonably explain that blood without people realizing the coincidence of it so she changed into her nightgown and then threw the dirtied dress into the lit hearth. Rhaenyra sat down on the floor and watched the flames clean away the evidence of her crime and if she could she would have used the flames as well to clean the unworthy blood from her hands. Targaryens might be more resistant to high heat than ordinary but they still burn the same.
Rhaenyra did not worry about whatever people would think of the Grandmaester’s death, he was after all an old man walking late at night too close to the stairs so it would be an easy assumption that he simply fell. And if people thought there was more to it, they would never even think about the Princess, their Realm's Delight, being the one behind it.
Thereof, Rhaenyra focused her thoughts on the devastating revelation her father had ordered her mother killed. She could not in a millions years have imagined that, it was still hard to fully comprehend that was what happened but she could not avoid believing those maidservants words. It made sense, deep in her bones it made perfect sense. How her father could have done such a thing did not but Rhaenyra had learned that King Viserys desire for a son surpassed all else in his mind. And if that pregnancy was his last chance to have a son, Rhaenyra could too easily see why her father decided to take his wife’s, the mother of his only child, life.
She felt disgusted to be the daughter of such a man, she felt utterly lost, beyond devastated to know that was what had truly happened to her muña, to a Queen no less. Rhaenyra felt fury as she never felt before, she felt hatred, she felt a rotten void settling deep in her heart. Was a child supposed to feel this way? Was a child supposed to do what she did? Why did it had to be her?
By the time the dress became nothing but ashes, sunlight was already peeking into her room, chasing the darkness away. Rhaenyra finally stood up and then went to the partition separating her tub from the rest of her room; she used the two basins of water that were always freshly put on one of the small tables beside the tub to wash her hands. Once her hands, fingers and nails were completely clean from her sin, Rhaenyra used the bloodied water to put the fire out.
For days and weeks Rhaenyra has felt exhausted, never truly sleeping nor resting, always with too much to work and worry about but now she felt numb to a point she felt no tiredness at all.
In an absent minded way she started to get ready for the day, not waiting for her maids, for soon she would be summoned to the Small Council to hear of the news. While dressing herself into her riding clothes, Rhaenyra wondered if she could try avoiding Maester Mellos getting the new position as both King and Hand were sure to offer him.
The man was certainly of the same ilk of Grandmaester Rucinter seeing as he was uncaringly giving her a potion not fit for children; how long would it have taken for her to actually get sick if Maester Barry had not intervened? And he probably was there during her muña’s butchery, probably helped in it. Would it be too suspicious if two maesters died consecutively? Could she get away with both murders?
Rhaenyra’s musings were interrupted when her maids and Ser Criston knocked on the door and then entered her chambers.
“My Princess.” Her knight bowed respectfully. “The King has called for an immediate court assembling. His Grace wants you in the Throne Room as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Ser Criston. I will just need to do my hair, it won’t take long.” Rhaenyra said and the knight promptly left to give her privacy.
“Did you not sleep well again, My Princess?” Her maid Annora asked, walking to stand behind her to properly tie her dress.
“Bad dreams again.” Was all Rhaenyra said, mind whirling over the possibilities why her father decided to call for a court session to announce the death instead of a simple a discussion with the Small Council.
Both Annora and Nayele did not comment further and continued to finish getting her ready. Rhaenyra used to have more maids and caretakers but now that she was eight namedays and a busy heir, just two maids to help her dress and do her hair was enough.
Besides she did not have the patience anymore to be fuzzed over by a flock of women. Nayele and Annora were the youngest of the maids her muña had selected for her when she was just a babe and the only ones Rhaenyra actually liked so she did not mind to keep just them when the king decided to dismiss a portion of the women assigned to care for her. She has a sneaking suspicion that idea did not really come from her father but his dear Hand. Whatever for Rhaenyra could not say.
When both women finished her hair, braiding it on the style of Queen Visenya so she could go for a ride later as she asked, Rhaenyra thanked them and left her chambers without delays.
Walking to the throne room, everywhere she passed, servants and courtiers alike were talking between themselves about what had happened. How poor old Grandmaester Rucinter fell down the stairs just as Rhaenyra thought they would; it made her clench her jaw at listening them pitying that monster to avoid screaming at them. Not that long ago they were showing the same pity to the woman he cruelly killed.
Rhaenyra entered the throne room to find the place filled with a great number of the lords and ladies of court. The King was standing by the throne talking with his dear Hand and Maester Mellos which made Rhaenyra almost sneer at the sight of them; she swallowed down all the negative feelings and kept her expression as neutral and composed as possible.
“Father.” She said when coming to a stop close to them, the word tasting bitter in her mouth.
“Rhaenyra, my girl, good you came so fast.” The King looked down at his precious girl and gave her a small smile and then put a hand on her shoulder; Rhaenyra had to fight the instinct to flinch at his touch. “We can begin then.”
Both King and Princess walked the steps up to the Iron Throne, King Viserys sitting on his chair while his Heir stood just a little to the side, as above everyone else as the king.
Rhaenyra jutted her chin up arrogantly after finding Ser Otto staring at her; that was the one thing he was entirely unable to even get a single word of protest nor fight against Rhaenyra. King Viserys had made his mind to have his daughter by his side during court assemblings before he named her his heir, for whatever reason Rhaenyra did not care to know anymore so when Rhaenyra expressed she wanted to keep doing that as part of her duties, all she had to do was remind her father that once upon a time Baelon the Brave took his granddaughter to sit with him during petitions as well.
She did not remember any of it, of course, but she grew up hearing about how Prince Baelon dotted on his small and only granddaughter in front of everyone even when having to do his father’s work and receive their people in the throne room. ‘Perhaps he knew I was meant to sit the throne one day.’ Rhaenyra thought, or at least hoped that was the case, not paying attention to the King’s droning on and on.
“I know it is enough of a sad news the tragic passing of our esteemed Grandmaester.” The King said solemnly and his words now made Rhaenyra start paying attention. “Although we all have been thinking it may be a mere accident. It was brought to my attention, to my council’s attention, some odd signs that could mean it was not just an accident.”
Rhaenyra felt faint at those words and did not dare look back at her father, she focused her lilac eyes on the whisperings breaking out on the hall, the courtiers clearly confused but intrigued by the turn of event.
“It is not a certainty, my good lords.” Her father said more loudly to silence them. “Perhaps it is just mere coincidence, nothing more but we will be diligent in investigating these circumstances. I wanted you all to be aware as to keep an eye open for anything suspicious and if you do know anything, please you can come talk with any of my small council members.”
The King quickly finished the session after that and Rhaenyra wished she could ran out of that room right away but her father again put a hand on shoulder, and started leading her out of the throne room and towards the small council chambers. Rhaenyra did not dare move once she was standing beside the big table, not bothering to go to the wine cart this time, too anxious to do anything bu wait whatever else they would discuss now.
She had her answer a minute later when Ser Harrold and Ser Willis escorted two Gold Cloaks inside the Small Council chambers. Rhaenyra recognized Ser Luthor and Ser Harwin right away, their height and build unmistakable; though Ser Harwin was still growing into himself opposed to the grown man Ser Luthor already was there was no doubt Ser Harwin would become almost as big as the hulking Commander of the City Watch.
“Ser Harwin, Commander Luthor, thank you for hastily answering my summons.” The king said, his voice startling Rhaenyra fraying thoughts.
Why would the two of them be summoned? Was this still about the Grandmaester’s death? But how could it be?
“Sers, it came to our knowledge that yesterday you received word from Prince Daemon.” The answer to those questions on Rhaenyra’s mind came in the voice of the Lord Hand after the two knights paid their respects to the king. “Not long after our Grandmaester Rucinter seemingly fell to his death.”
“I beg your pardon?”, “Are you being serious right now, Ser Otto?” Both Lord Strong and Lord Corlys said in unison, just exactly what Rhaenyra was thinking over realizing the cursed man was trying to lay blame on Uncle Daemon, someone who was all the way across the sea.
“You have heard the accounts of the guards who came upon the Grandmaester dead body, my lords.” The Hand replied calm as ever. “You saw the gruesome trail left on the stairs.”
“What Prince Daemon has to do with this, Lord Hand?” Lord Beesbury asked, clearly not liking Ser Otto’s implication either. “He is gallivanting in Essos as he likes to do, isn’t he?”
“That is why we brought in his gold cloaks. They were the ones to receive word from the Prince, were you not?”
Rhaenyra saw the death glare Lord Strong sent the Hand’s way while the man stared at Ser Harwin and Ser Luthor.
“Are we truly going to lose time over this nonsense, Your Grace?” Lord Corlys asked looking directly at the silent king. “What reason would Prince Daemon have to kill a maester? Now of all times?”
“My brother can be quite unpredictable, Lord Corlys.” Her father finally said something, his odd demeanour told Rhaenyra there might be a reason why he was entertaining his Hand’s ludicrous suspicion. 'Are you afraid kepus knows what you ordered done, father?' Rhaenyra wondered, almost grinning at that.
“It is well known how Prince Daemon blamed Grandmaester Rucinter for Prince Baelon’s death, despite it being an impossible feat to cure an ailment such as burst belly.” Maester Mellos added his own reasoning.
That sparked more anger in Rhaenyra, she did not remember the Grandmaester had also been the one there while her papa Baelon struggled to fight against his illness. It did not matter to her that it was an incurable disease, her kepus was right to blame the man and she felt even prouder for getting justice for her grandfather as well.
“If he was going to kill the man, Daemon would have done it then not now years later.” Lord Corlys said in a scoff.
“Son, tell the Lord Hand about this news you receive from the Prince.” Lord Strong intervened before more arguments could be said, expectantly looking at his son.
Her friend’s brother glanced over at his Commander and then to Rhaenyra, his face slightly pale and a panicked glint in his eyes.
“It was simply an envelope an Essosi sailor brought to the barracks.” Ser Harwin settled for a half lie despite his clear fear.
“It was a gift, Your Grace.” Commander Luthor said looking directly to the king. “The sailor left as soon as he gave it to me. He did not say where Prince Daemon was nor anything else.”
“A gift?” Viserys asked with a frown.
“An envelope Ser Harwin then brought to the Red Keep.” The Hand said quickly before any of the knights could say more. “Who ever was this gift for, Sers?”
‘No.’ Rhaenyra thought eyes widening, only three other people besides her knew where that enveloped ended at. Before she could further despair over a possible betrayal from people she was learning to care and trust, Rhaenyra realized no one was paying her any attention.
Aside from the brief glance Ser Harwin gave her, no one looked her way and if Ser Otto had not yet turned his focus on her it could only mean whoever gave him this information only knew until the point when Ser Harwin came into the castle with the envelope. It was worrying to realize the Hand likely has people sneaking and creeping around but that was something she was going to worry later. Now she needed to do the right thing and unburden both gold cloaks from the veil of suspicion the Hand threw on them.
“It was a gift for me, obviously.” Rhaenyra said without stuttering and jutted her chin out defiantly. “Kepus did not want to be unfair in sending a gift to Baela but nothing to me.”
Everyone turned their eyes to her and Rhaenyra fought the urge to fall down on her knees and ask forgiveness for her crime. Now Ser Otto would focus his lecherous eye on her and would be all too happy if he were to find out what Rhaenyra had done.
“Rhaenyra.” Viserys said her name in a heavy sigh. “You are not supposed to be in touch with Daemon in any way.”
“Why not?” She asked glaring at him. “You have never said nothing of the sort to me.”
“You should have brought this gift to me immediately after receiving it.” He replied instead, making a face of displeasure at the word gift.
“You fought with kepus, sent him away again. Why would you care about the tales of his adventures in Essos?” The retort and the lies came so easily to Rhaenyra’s tongue she had to bite down her cheek to avoid showing the surprise that caused.
“There it is then, Ser Otto. Mystery solved.” Lord Corlys said sarcastically.
“We will talk about this later, Rhaenyra.” Viserys looked at her with a stern expression before turning his attention to the two knights. “Is that all it was, Sers?”
“Aye, Your Grace. The sailor was very specific in what Prince Daemon ordered him: deliver the gift to me so I could pass it on to his little princess.” Commander Luthor confirmed, not realizing his misstep in calling Rhaenyra like that which did not bother her, actually made her give him a small smile. “I could not at the time so I asked Ser Harwin to do it for me.”
Rhaenyra could almost hear the sigh of relief the Master of Laws breathed with that explanation.
“Next time, come to me with anything my brother might sent. I am the king, I give your orders, not Daemon.” Her father said making her almost roll her eyes.
The gold cloaks were Uncle Daemon’s no matter the crown atop the king’s head, everyone knew that.
“Of course, Your Grace. Our apologies.” Commander Luthor said and gave a slight bow of the head.
“It will not happen again, Your Grace.” Ser Harwin agreed in the same gesture.
Rhaenyra did not truly knew either men, having spent very little time in their presence but she had always being a perceptive child as her muña used to say and became even more so after all the work she had to do, all the lessons she had to learn. She was almost sure their words and gestures were not genuine nor did it held the respect they were supposed to have for their king.
As soon as they left, both of them giving an almost unperceptive look towards her, Rhaenyra wanted to ask to leave but Ser Otto’s voice halted her wishes.
“Be that as it may, Your Grace.” The Hand said in that grating dismissive tone of his. “We cannot overlook the odd sight the scene of Grandmaester Rucinter’s death was for a mere fall down the stairs.”
‘Gods, how I wish you were the one there last night.’ Rhaenyra thought not bothering to conceal the small quirk of her lips in a sneer to the man.
“Rucinter was old, Lord Hand. Older than even me.” Lord Beesbury chuckled. “Our old bones are as fragile as the wind, everything inside is.”
“I have seen death enough in my travels, Ser Otto, I can assure you the human body is weak enough to break and bleed in such a way for a simple fall down some stairs.” Lord Corlys added, arching an eyebrow towards the Hand.
“True, my lord, but the landing between the two sets of stairs seemed as though the Grandmaester was dragged, all that blood trailing on the floor...” Maester Mellos said, still trying to rationalize the event too.
“Something that can be easily explained by Grandmaester Rucinter trying to crawl for help.” Lord Strong retorted, clearly still miffed by the Hand’s attempt in casting doubts on his son.
“Father, can I go?” Rhaenyra interrupted the senseless discussion; though she was grateful three of the councilmembers were unknowingly defending her against any suspicions. “I do not wish to hear of such things.”
“Oh, of course, my dear, of course.” Her father said turning his eyes to her as if just then remembering his eight year daughter was there listening to those details.
Rhaenyra turned and left without bowing nor curtsying to the king as she used to do, and giving no time for him to invite her for any meals or conversations later. She did not wish to stay in her father’s presence more than necessary, if she could she would even avoid looking and talking to him at all times; her hurt and fury too fresh for Rhaenyra to be able to avoid not lashing out at the king.
One day she would, one day she would let him know she knew what he had done. One day Rhaenyra hoped she would have the strength to make King Viserys pay for killing her muña. For now though, she has to dance according to the tune he set. Rhaenyra never felt as closer and alike, as sympathetic for uncle Daemon as she felt then, not only for knowing but also experiencing exactly what he had for so many years.
Collared and chained down by the flimsy and selfish whims of an underserving king. Life restricted and bound by the manacles put on them by an unworthy father, brother and husband.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“Now we can come here whenever we want, cousin.” Rhaenyra whispered to an awed Baela, both of them sat on the hard ground a short distance away from where Syrax was laying down.
A fortnight has passed since uncle Daemon sent her the maps of the secret tunnels and every day before going to sleep, Rhaenyra went into the tunnels to explore and learn every turn of them. She was now confident enough that she decided it was time to bring Baela along. With Baela being cared for by new women, likeable and trustworthy enough ones, Rhaenyra did not need to find any excuses just simply say she wanted to sleep together with her little cousin.
It had being twice more tiring to make the long trek to the Dragonpit with Baela in her arms but it was worth it for the wide smile of pure happiness Baela gave her when the two of them sneaked into Syrax cave. Her golden girl was still moody over being kept chained most of the time but Rhaenyra was also coming to visit her during the day and taking her flying at least once before breakfast, sometimes late into the afternoon too.
Rhaenyra stood up and walked to approach her girl who was also watching them curiously, allowing Syrax a few minutes to just see and smell Baela, she would now try to take Baela to sit closer but first Rhaenyra needed to talk with her girl.
“Hello, my darling.” Rhaenyra cooed, caressing Syrax big head and neck. “I’ll be visiting you a lot more now during the night, would you like that?”
Syrax huffed a puff of smoke and then gently bumped her head into Rhaenyra’s side almost toppling her to the ground.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She giggled and pat Syrax snout before bring her hand to that little spot under the dragon’s chin she knew her girl loved to be caressed. “My cousin will likely be coming with me so you will have to get used to her, alright? And once her own dragon hatches all four of us will have lots of fun on the skies.”
Rhaenyra could not wait for when that would happen, if only Baela’s dragon egg could finally finish hatching the stubborn thing.
After giving Syrax’s snout another pet, Rhaenyra went to where Baela was still sitting down and then let out a chuckle when her cousin quickly raised her arms to be picked up. Uncle Daemon had spoiled her as much as possible so it was only fair Rhaenyra repaid that by spoiling his daughter too now.
Baela let out a squeal when the two of them were close to Syrax, close enough that Syrax’s body heat engulfed them and they were able to bring their hands to the dragon rough scales. Rhaenyra allowed her girl to get used to Baela being so close and touching her, Syrax sniffing and eyeing both of them curiously before huffing some more smoke as if satisfied with her own inspection and then she sprawled herself on the ground.
With her girl so comfortable like that, Rhaenyra sat down again with Baela and the two of them reclined against Syrax side while the dragon stretched her left wing as if protectively hugging them.
It was a peaceful time, just sitting there with Baela and Syrax, whispering some tale or song to her cousin and not thinking of anything else. Rhaenyra felt whole during those precious minutes, no pain or hurt, no anger, no heavy burdens. Just her and her two darling girls at peace and happy.
--
After making sure Baela was sound asleep, comfortably snuggled under the warm furs with her dragonegg, Rhaenyra went back into the tunnels since she was not feeling much tired and her mind was restless.
For days after the Grandmaester’s death Rhaenyra barely slept, worried over whatever ‘investigating’ the Hand was still doing about what happened but also too enraged with the man’s obsession in thinking and trying to imply uncle Daemon was in the city to do that particular deed.
She could honestly not fully comprehend what was Otto’s issue with uncle Daemon, why he was so against and hateful of him.
With so much worry and caution in her mind, Rhaenyra took to sneak through the tunnels to go to the Small Council chambers to see if any session was happening without her and she would also go and listen behind the walls of the King’s chambers. In one such occasion Rhaenyra found out that King and Hand would sometimes hold private meetings late at night, discussing things that were supposed to be talked with the Small Council.
One night, she even overhead them come to a decision over an issue without any of the other members input; later the next day during a session the King announced about it as if he had pondered and decided things all on his own. Rhaenyra felt even more frustrated and infuriated at her useless father.
Restless nights such as this one were perfect for Rhaenyra to check if a meeting of the sort was happening or if her father was just wasting his time on his Valyria model. Just like in the council chambers, on one of the walls of the King’s antechamber there was a portion of it with a number of small holes kept hidden by an almost sheer tapestry that allowed the person behind the walls to glimpse inside the room. That’s how Rhaenyra knew her father spent many nights hunched over his model, wine always filling his goblet for hours.
‘No wonder he looks so ragged every new day.’ Rhaenyra thought with a sneer, the King’s declining in looks and constant stench of wine a true shame to the Targaryen royal image.
Once she settled herself on the little stool by the wall – Rhaenyra had distributed a few on the walls that had views into the rooms – she looked through the holes and was greeted with the sight of her father surrounded by the Hand and the new Grandmaester on both sides. The King was sat on a plush chair close to the hearth while an acolyte was also there sat on a stool beside him, apparently looking over his hand.
Rhaenyra could not properly see with Otto in the way but she assumed the acolyte and the Grandmaester were likely there to treat the cut her father sustained during petitions earlier that day. It was ironic how sometimes the throne would cut the King and that made Rhaenyra wonder if the tale about the Iron Throne cutting anyone unworthy of sitting on it was true.
“This salve will ensure the cut heals faster, my King.” Grandmaester Mellos said after the acolyte was done doing whatever it is he was doing and then was dismissed from the room by the Hand. “And also not to scar your palm. But you must be more careful while sitting the throne.”
“Hard to be careful while sitting on a chair made of swords, Mellos.” Viserys joked with a chuckle while observing his bandaged hand. “All the other cuts are long healed so it’s no matter a few more.”
“You must still be cautious to avoid it as best as possible, Your Grace.” The Lord Hand said in his usual drawled out and calm voice. “Those swords are old enough that the metals are rusted by now, it would be easier to get an infection.”
“The Hand speaks true, my King.” Grandmaster Mellos agreed.
“Mm.” With both men standing on each side of the king, Rhaenyra could not really see her father’s face, just hear his voice. “I held an audience this afternoon with Lord Corlys and my cousin.”
“That was most charitable of you, Your Grace.” Otto said after slightly shifting on his feet. “I’m sure they appreciated the spirit of it.”
“A few weeks ago he proposed a marriage.” Her father said surprising her that he had not talked about that yet with his dear Hand.
“To whom, Your Grace?” The Lord Hand asked, voice still calm but Rhaenyra noticed a hint of strain in his words.
“To their daughter, the Lady Laena.” Viserys answered not too enthusiastic. “Which is why I thought best to also hear what Rhaenys thoughts were about his proposal to combine the strength of our houses.” Her father explained further. “Lord Corlys thinks it would be a great way to demonstrate my reign’s strongest days are ahead and not behind.”
“Lord Corlys has overreached, Your Grace.” Otto said displeased by the news, he would need to talk with his daughter and see how her visits to the King were going. “Such matters must be discussed with the Small Council.”
'Oh the hypocrisy of this man.' Rhaenyra thought scrunching her brow in disgust at how the Hand thought himself so superior to others.
“That is what I’m doing, presently.” Her father said with an almost annoyed voice, the almost unnoticeable slur to his words letting Rhaenyra know he had been drinking again. “So what is your advice, dear Otto?”
“The Lady Laena is young, Your Grace.” The Hand replied with a noticeable strain to his tone this time; even from behind the wall only looking through very small holes Rhaenyra could see the tension in his posture.
“Indeed but the wounds made by the Old King’s choice still linger, my King.” Mellos said glancing at the Hand after he did not say more. “A match with their daughter would go a long way towards sealing the breach and uniting the two great Valyrian houses would certainly signal unity throughout the realm and beyond.”
“The Gandmaester reasoning is sound.” Was all Otto said after a minute of tense silence.
Despite their tactic of giving opposite advices sometimes not to raise suspicions, this was not the right time for Mellos to instigate the King to see the benefits of that match seeing as Viserys already went after the Velaryons without saying a word to Otto beforehand as he often does or bringing the matter to the council.
“I do fear what Rhaenyra might think.” Viserys said making his daughter snort at those words. “She is really close with her cousin now.”
“What does it matter, Your Grace?” The Grandmaester said and Rhaenyra almost growled in anger at his callousness and her father not bothering by the way the man spoke. “Her mother has passed. Her father must propagate the royal line, it is your duty as King.”
“I know that, Mellos.” Her father said with irritation. “It is rather too soon anyways to think of marriage. I would like some more time to heal from the loss of my beloved Aemma.”
Grandmaester Mellos glanced towards the Hand again when the man remained quiet, he would know better the right thing to say in this moment.
“I dearly loved my own lady wife.” Otto finally spoke, voice not carrying the emotion necessary seeing as his mind was working hard to think of ways and plans to mitigate the Velaryons dirty play. “The pain of her passing still haunts me. And to be compelled to replace her for duty’s sake… You are the King but I do not envy you.”
Rhaenyra had to put a hand over her mouth to muffled the loud snort she was unable to hold. How a bold faced liar Otto Hightower was, for it was obvious he envied the king’s position of ultimate power, it was obvious he envied the place the Targaryen stood above all other houses. It was obvious to anyone who looked close enough to see Otto Hightower’s ambition. The man spoke of Lord Corlys overreaching as if he did not do the same every chance he had.
Rolling her eyes, Rhaenyra stood up and left, she was not in the mood anymore to listen to their conversation. She needed to think over the ever closer prospect her father might accept Lord Corlys proposition and then make Laena his new wife and queen. Despite her promise to Laena to find a way to avoid it, the longer Rhaenyra thought about it the more she realized there was more pros than cons in that match. Unlike any other girl or woman, she could trust Laena to stay true to her and not wish to see her replaced as heir.
And from what her cousin told her, Princess Rhaenys was not happy about this possible marriage either. With both Laena and Rhaenys with such mind-sets then maybe it would be easier to curb Lord Corlys sure desire to replace Rhaenyra with his own grandson. At least Rhaenyra hoped so.
That was all conjectures though, if her father words were true – and Rhaenyra has a hard time believing anything he says now – she would still have a few more moons to think things carefully. The King’s grieving period over the death of his Queen was a year minimum opposite to only six moons to other lords, and if her father was being truthful then he might decide to extend that period for a while longer.
It would be enough time for Rhaenyra to decide whether she really wanted to help Laena avoid a marriage to the King or if she would rather see her cousin as her stepmother than some stranger who could prove dangerous to her position as heir.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Laena thought she would have more time despite her father’s high hopes for his marriage proposal to the King. More time to get used to the idea, more time to prepare herself to that dreadful future, more time to be sure her friendship with Rhaenyra would not be affected by it.
Queen Aemma’s death was only over seven moons ago, just half the grieving period passed, and yet here she was standing beside her proud father in the most fanciful dress she ever owned waiting for King Viserys to arrive to their meeting. It had been just three days ago Rhaenyra talked to her about overhearing her father speak to his Hand about the marriage proposal and the king’s words of not wishing to think of marriage yet.
King Viserys’ invitation to her parents for the two of them to have a walk through the garden had been so sudden and unexpected that Laena did not have the time to warn Rhaenyra herself, the maids surrounding her hastily after her father’s orders to get her ready and perfect for that afternoon.
She instead screamed for Laenor, who slept in the room adjacent hers, and luckily he was reading in his rooms instead of in the training yard or the dragonpit. Her brother did not understand what was happening nor why she wanted him to give the message to Rhaenyra but he did it for her anyways.
The fact Rhaenyra might be somewhere watching them only made Laena more nervous. What if her cousin and friend thought she wanted this, or worse that she was enjoying this?
Also the fact her mother was still not fighting against her husband’s wishes and allowing this to take place made Laena so so angry. Why couldn’t her mother never see when she was being hurt?
Moreover, the fact King Viserys was likely considering marrying her, a girl that was just a year older than his last wife was when they married, made Laena terrified. What if the King was like him and liked the same things he liked to do to girls her age? Was that the reason the king was considering this match between them?
There was so many questions in her hand and almost no answers to them.
Laena’s musings were interrupted by the clang sound of armour and when she looked up from the ground she found King Viserys walking towards them, dressed very elegantly in Targaryen colours. She loved to see her cousin dressed in all black and red, the colours suited Rhaenyra marvellously, but now Laena could only fear those colour since it might very well mean a dark future for her.
Her father brief exchange with the King was nothing but a buzz to Laena’s ears and before long she was being ushered along to walk with the King by her father, the man that was supposed to love and protect her not sell her for a dream of a throne. She knew her father would stay where he was to oversee their walk and likely her mother was somewhere in one of the high balconies of the castle doing the same. Both of them looking after her only from afar.
‘I cannot stomach this Corlys.’ Her mother had said in a low voice before storming out and leaving Laena to be tended only by the maids, all alone to mentally prepare herself in the short time she had.
It would be of no surprise to Laena if her mother was not doing the same as her father and had instead gone for a fly on Meleys. Princess Rhaenys was always atop her dragon enjoying the delights of the sky when her daughter most needed her, Laena thought bitterly. The memory of hearing the roars of Meleys along with the crashing of the waves outside the dark little room she was being cornered inside by him was still too fresh and raw in her mind.
Laena closed her eyes for a second and tried to clean her mind from those thoughts. She was supposed to be endearing the King to her, or so was her father’s wish, and not walking beside him in an awkward silence. She had no idea about what to talk with a King, a man grown since she knew what talking or giving a man attention could lead to. Gulping down her fear, Laena decided to talk about the only topic she could muster at that moment.
“What was it like flying the Black Dread?” She asked, not even remembering to properly address him. “You were Balerion’s last rider.”
“Only for a short time before he died.” Viserys answered, surprised by the girl suddenly speaking but glad for the break in the uncomfortable silence. “With Balerion died the last memory of Valyria of Old.”
“But Vhagar still lives... Somewhere.” Laena commented, mind so frayed she could also not remember whether Vhagar was from the same time period as Balerion or only the dragons that died way before the Conquest. “Bit too large for the Dragonpit.”
“Some would say too large for our world.” Viserys said and looked down at his young cousin, giving her a small smile.
He could still remember the few times his father took him flying atop Vhagar when he was a child. Viserys remembered and cherished those moments, along with the times he remembers flying with his mother on Meleys, better than the sole two times he flew on his own mount. Balerion was old, half blind, bigger even than Vhagar and so the flight on him was a lazy and slow affair. Nothing of the exhilaration other members of his family passionately talked about. His bond with the dragon was strong all the same and Viserys felt keenly in his heart the death of Balerion; sometimes he even wondered if that might be the reason the so called Targaryen fiery temper rarely ever arose in him
“Do you know where she nests?” Laena asked in an almost shaking tone, if only to distract her mind. When King Viserys smiled down at her it was not the king’s face she saw but his face, his sickly sweet smile.
“I’m sorry?” Viserys asked, mind too distracted by his memories.
“Do you know where Vhagar is now?”
“The dragonkeepers believe she made home somewhere on the coast of the narrow sea.” He answered what he remembers Daemon once commenting to him after his inquiries as to where their father’s dragon was.
“The workers at Spicetown report hearing her song at times.” Laena said thinking back at the one time not too long ago she caught a glimpse at the old dragon flying high above Driftmark. “They say it is a sad thing.”
“I imagine even dragons get lonely.” Viserys said and almost smiled; unexpectedly his mind mused over how much more lonely he would be feeling these past moons if not for the Lady Alicent's night visits. So distracted the thought made him, Viserys did not noticed Laena stop walking.
“Your Grace.” She called out when the king kept walking; the king’s comment triggering another memory of the time he shoved her into a dark room to do things to her because he felt lonely. Laena just wanted to go back to her room and hide under her blankets, perhaps never again get out. So she said what her father had ordered her to so this walk would finally end. “It would be a great honor to join our houses as they were in Old Valyria. I would give you many children of pure Valyrian blood so that we might strengthen the royal line and the realm.”
“Is that what your father told you to say?” Viserys asked trying not to sound to exasperated, it was not Laena’s fault and now he was surer than ever about not giving in to Lord Corlys proposal for a few more years at least. The young girl would be nothing but her father’s puppet. “What did your mother tell you?”
His cousin Rhaenys did not sound too enthusiastic during their conversation, her body tense and face set in a hard expression. Viserys could only imagine how difficult it was for her to agree in allowing her only daughter too marry this young, he would never want such thing for his Rhaenyra.
“That I…” Laena swallowed drily, the mere thought made bile rise to her throat, more memories rushing to the front of her mind. “That I wouldn’t ha-have to… To b-bed you until I turned fourteen.”
Viserys gave his young cousin a strained and shaking smile, feeling anxious by that thought and bad for the child in front of him having to think of such thing before the right time. Even more this made him certain he did not wish to repeat the same mistake done to him and his dear Aemma.
No matter how good a match between he and Laena might be, and after thinking it over he realized indeed it was a very good and advantageous one. Viserys would not accept marrying the girl before she was of a proper age to be bedded and go through the trials of the birthing bed.
He needed to propagate his line, bring forth more Targaryen children, and that would not be possible if another fourteen year old girl started to birth children before her body was ready for it. If only his grandparents had had the same wisdom and did not force his dear beautiful Aemma to marry so young, if only they had given them a long betrothal and waited until the time was right. Maybe then his dear wife would still be alive.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra walked hurriedly towards the area of the Red Keep where there was the best view of the garden, balconies placed just right that it was possible to see most of the garden. Her cousin Laenor had surprised her with the dreadful news that her father had invited Laena for a walk through the gardens; it was clear he was confused by it but Rhaenyra knew the reason behind the invitation.
She was furious to realize yet again how little her father’s words was worth, how she could not trust him at all. Three days was all it took for him to change his mind and decide to accept Lord Corlys proposition, just three days and not even the whole year of the grieving period. Rhaenyra was still coming to terms with the possibility of watching her muña be replaced and now it seemed as if there would be little time for it.
Rhaenyra was so distraught and anxious when she arrived at the veranda overlooking the keep's huge gardens she did not notice Princess Rhaenys was already there, sitting on a bench by the far wall which did not really allow her to see anything down below.
Lilac eyes tracked both King Viserys and Lady Laena walk the path between the tall trees while violet eyes observed the little princess.
Seeing her father walking side by side her friend, the two of them probably talking and getting to know each other, made jealousy grip at Rhaenyra’s heart. Not jealousy for her father but jealousy at him taking her cousin away from her too. Because what if Laena did not succeed in birthing sons either? Would her fate be the same as Queen Aemma, treated and butchered no better than a cow? Rhaenyra did not want that to happen but she also did not want the danger of a stranger crawling their way into her home.
When Princess Rhaenyra walked by her, still not noting her there too focused she was watching over Viserys, Rhaenys could see better the tenseness in her shoulders and the way she nervously twisted the rings in her fingers.
“It bothers you, does it not?” She asked to break the awful silence she’s be in for minutes now, a silence that allowed too many images to be conjured by her mind.
Rhaenyra sharply turned to find Princess Rhaenys so serenely sat, as if not bothered by whatever was taking place below in the gardens. Has she also changed her mind about not liking the prospect of Laena marrying the King? Unsure of the older princess wishes and thoughts, and angry that she was allowing it in the first place, Rhaenyra decided not to let her true thoughts known.
“My father is a King.” Rhaenyra said, stopping twisting her rings and crossing her hands behind her back, then she repeated something alike what she heard from her father and the Grandmaster. “It is his duty to take a new wife and strengthen his line.”
“I did not ask for a lesson in politics.” Rhaenys retorted with a scoff, annoyed at the rehearsed phrase the princess used. “I asked whether this bothers you.”
“Laena is your daughter, Princess Rhaenys. Your twelve namedays old daughter” Rhaenyra snapped, not liking the woman’s tone, not liking the sudden change in Rhaenys’ behaviour towards her. “Does it bother you?”
“Of course, it does.” Rhaenys replied honestly and then looked away, glad she could not see Viserys close to her sweet daughter. “But sadly I understand the order of things, Princess Rhaenyra.” She added looking back at the little princess, the exact same words King Jaehaerys once told her. “I’m not sure you do though.”
“If you mean to elicit some anger from me, you should know that you’re failing, Princess Rhaenys.” She said jutting out her chin and trying to really keep calm.
“Quite the opposite.” Rhaenys was again honest, she genuinely wanted to know Rhaenyra’s thought over this possible marriage. Moreover, she wanted the little princess to understand what it truly meant so she continued. “Whether it’s to my daughter or to someone else’s, your father will remarry sooner than late.” She hoped it was not her daughter, her sweet Laena did not deserve be married to such a man. “His new wife will produce new heirs and chances are better than not that one will be male. When that boy comes, the men of the realm will expect him to be heir, not you. So will your father.”
Rhaenyra gritted her teeth and harshly gripped her own fingers but said nothing or else she might scream at the older princess. She was not stupid as everyone seemed to think she was, she knew very well what a new marriage for her father meant.
“And when your father has passed, Rhaenyra.” Rhaenys continued when the girl kept silent. “That boy, not you, will wear the crown and sit the Iron Throne be it by your father’s will or the lords’.... Because that is the order of things.”
“When I’m Queen, I will create a new order.” Rhaenyra said trying to sound convincing but it just sounded childish, her determination wavered at the face of those truths being actually said out loud by someone.
“How I wish that could be, Rhaenyra.” The older Princess said with a sigh, looking away again, a look in her eyes as if she was getting lost in some memory. “But a King already had the opportunity to appoint a ruling queen, the rightful heir… And he denied it.”
“King Jaehaerys denied you, Princess Rhaenys.” Rhaenyra retorted. “But my father appointed me heir to the Iron Throne and made the lords of the realm bent the knee to me.”
“Do you remind your father’s men of that as you carry their cups?” Rhaenys asked meanly, she knew that was a sore spot for the little spoiled princess, a fact said King was unwilling to chance and only further weakening his chosen heir’s image. “If you truly want to create a new order, Princess, that might be a good start to prove you can at least change something so small."
“Shouldn’t you know it’s not that easy?”
Rhaenys gave a smirk void of any emotion and then stood up to go to the balcony parapet as well, finally having the courage to see her daughter walking beside Viserys. Without looking at Rhaenyra, she said, a little lesson that Rhaenyra needed to learn before it was too late.
“Here is the hard truth, Rhaenyra which no one else has the heart to tell you.” She looked down at the younger princess beside her, the very image of cousin Aemma when she was a child as well. “Men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the Iron Throne. My grandfather was no different… And your father is no better.”
“No.” Rhaenyra whispered, looking over to where her father was leading Laena back to where Lord Corlys was. “King Viserys is worse.”
Rhaenys squinted her violet eyes at the little princess, caught off guard by Rhaenyra’s words, by the weight behind them and the look in her lilac eyes while watching her father. Before she could say or ask anything, Rhaenyra spoke again.
“He killed her, you know.” She whispered, feeling a weight been lift off by saying it out loud instead of only thinking the words in a loop in her head. “My mother. He ordered her murder.”
“How do you know that, Rhaenyra?” Rhaenys asked feeling dread to know the girl was aware of what happened to her mother.
“It’s easy to overhear things when no one pays attention to a child.” Rhaneyra replied with a half-truth, shrugging her shoulders she looked up at Princess Rhaenys. “I do not want the same to befall my cousin but I don’t want a stranger to replace my mother either.”
“Aemma could never be replaced.” Rhaenys said almost defensively, of what exactly she was not sure.
“To us maybe, not to the King.”
Again the younger princess surprised Rhaenys by the way she spoke, so wise and grown beyond her mere eight namedays. Rhaenyra in that moment reminded her of herself, when she was not older than either young girls and Prince Aemon sat her down to tell she would have no siblings, that he would not risk his wife’s health and so Rhaenys as his only child would be his heir one day. Everything changed after that and Rhaenys had to learn too much for the role she would have one day, she had to grow faster than a child should.
Rhaenys had not truly sympathized with Rhaenyra’s situation, not cared enough and deep down envied the little girl for having what should have been hers. However, looking at down at her now, seeing the fire and darkness lingering at the edges of her lilac eyes, Rhaenys saw Rhaenyra for the first time.
She saw herself in the young princess and she saw Aemma, and Alysanne and Alyssa in Rhaenyra too.
Rhaenys thought then that this fierce little girl, and naming her heir was the only things Viserys ever did right. The only thing he would ever do right.
“I need to know, Princess Rhaenys, if I must fear you wishing the same as your husband if Laena was to birth a son to my father.” Rhaenyra said, further shocking Rhaenys. “If the danger an outsider would bring to me is the same you and Lord Corlys would create too, then I need to know now.”
“Why is that?” She asked curious but cautious, the shadow in the princess eyes actually making a shiver run down Rhaenys' spine.
“Because then I would be sure to make Laena mine.” Rhaenyra said without missing a beat, haughtily straightening her shoulder. “Your husband would gain a grandson to try usurp my crown, you would lose a daughter. Not to death but to hate. Would that finally bother you?”
Rhaenyra did not give Princess Rhaenys time to react nor reply, she just turned on her heel and left the balcony, unhurried this time; she had too much to do now, plans to plan, decisions to make. If her father was to truly remarry before the grieving period for the Queen was even over, Rhaenyra needed to actually start preparing. The time to be a child was truly over. It was time to be a grown woman instead of a little girl. It was time to be the future ruling Queen she would one day be.
Notes:
As I said your reaction/appreciation for this chapter will be my bday gift so don't be shy and tell me your thoughts (only if its good) 🥹
Vizzy the Clown: agrees the best option is to have his wife cut open and orders her to be butchered
Also Vizzy the Clown: blames everyone, even the dead, but himself 🤦🏾♀️
And no, I won't be doing the rotting disease plot to him in this story (thou that drinking aint be doing him any favors), I just always thought fascinating the whole idea that the throne possibly cuts the underserving kings hahahahaAs a reader rightly assumed in the comments , ofc 'people' would try to make Daemon a suspect of the Maester's death! Vizzy the Clown the only one giving any time for Otto's clownery, as per usual 🙄
But meanwhile Daemon is across the narrow sea being his shady and petty/vengeful self, peacefully scheming under the Essosi sun, we'll see whatever he's being up to soon. Any guesses though?Rhaenyra, Baela and Syrax are the best trio, period. My precious babies ❣️
But hold tight cause there's a reason why it's so important for Syrax to get used and learn to like Baela, we getting to it in a couple of chapters!!As I mentioned, there isn't much background or storyline for Laena either in book or show, so I'll need to come up w my thing for her
Don't ask me why I decided to give a "SA victim" plot to her cause idk either, it just popped into my head and it seemed fitting for a story that deals w men trumping over and hurting girls 🤷🏾♀️
Who do you guys think is the perp? 🫣I cannot say enough times how show Rhaenys infuriates me to death, one of the worst things the showrunners did was changing her character to *that* -_-
This scene is one of the very very few ones I do like of her in the show. She was very blunt and laid out the whole shitshow to Rhaenyra who unfortunately did not listen. Could she have done it in a better way? Yes but she was honest either way
Here Rhaenys is being antagonistic towards a child who a second ago was basically her pupil because as all Targaryens she doesn't know how to deal w things right so she lashes out at the first victim she found 🤦🏾♀️
She will compensate for this shitty later!Rhaenyra ain't have nobody's shit though 😌
And babe is gearing herself up little by little, next chapter there is more incentives for her to truly fall into "mad" princess mode!!
The greens will be greatly disappointed thinking they will win anything easily w no obstaclesIf youre interested for some visuals for the fic, here's the links:
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-17/
Ser Luthor Largent https://br.pinterest.com/pin/48484133472694409/Next update might be a while longer cause my laptop is on it's last breath so I'll probably take it to be fixed, hopefully won't take too long!!
See you in the next one 🙆🏾♀️
Kisses ❣️😘
Chapter 19: Chapter Eighteen: 106 AC Part III - Of dirty little secrets
Notes:
Heeelloou people 🙆🏾♀️
Here's a new update for all the readers who left kudos& comments & bookmarked my story, I'm really blown away by you guys response 🥹❣️
This one is sadly way shorter than the last few chapters and that's because I got stuck in the last two parts of the chapter 💔 writer's block trying to creep in for real 😭
Anyways...
Here we have what some of you have been hoping for , babe Rhae uncovering some juicy secret 😏
I hope you like it!!!
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra was laying on her bed wide awake despite the late hour, staring at the canopy above with dazed lilic eyes, her mind lost on itself and the events of the last moon. ‘The men of the realm will expect him to be heir, not you.’ Princess Rhaenys words echoed in her mind in a loop for days now, and it was all too easy for Rhaenyra to see the same men who who bent the knee and made oaths to her to break their promises in favor of a brother she might have. Rhaenyra had learned long ago not to truly hope for a sibling and now that she has Baela she does not need one anymore.
‘That boy, not you, will wear the crown and sit the Iron Throne.’ Princess Rhaenys words had been cold and cruel but it was the truth, wasn’t it? The truth Rhaenyra has been fighting as best as she can to avoid acknowledging, thinking and hoping her father’s assurances would be enough to keep her as the heir and ensure she would one day ascend the throne. However, King Viserys’ words were meaningless, weren’t they?
Princess Rhaenys said that Aemma Targaryen could never be replaced but if that was truth her father would never had killed her muña on a whim, over a chance and not a certainty. Her muña could never and would never be replaced in her heart, she was after all the only living child of Queen Aemma, but what of the rest of the realm? Rhaenyra knew people would soon forget about the Queen and the struggles she faced during her short life. People would soon cheer and love another queen, a queen that might give them the Targaryen boy everyone seem to want so much.
Rhaenyra could see clear as day: a little boy with silver hair and violet eyes, the spit image of King Viserys Targaryen, being presented in the Throne Room and all the court clapping and cheering. She could see this little boy one day replacing her as heir by the command of their father, stripping everything from her and leaving her with nothing but humiliation and broken dreams. Just like King Jaehaerys one day did with Princess Rhaenys.
It was easy to imagine one day that same little boy growing into a man and putting her and her own children to the sword so he would reign uncontested atop the Iron Throne. Looking over to the side where her little cousin peaceful slept hugging a dragon egg, Rhaenyra could see in her mind’s eye Baela being killed too, and uncle Daemon, and her heart bled as much as the day her mother died just imagining those possibilities.
Whether it be the Velaryons or some other family, if a new queen birthed a boy, they would come for Rhaenyra. They would take and destroy everyone and everything Rhaenyra loves.
King Viserys did worry about what Rhaenyra thought, didn’t he? He said so just days ago. Her father had promised she was his choice as heir and would continue to be, didn’t he? Even if his promises were worthless her father did love her, Rhaenyra knew and she was the last thing from Aemma he could held onto, no matter how fickle and worthless his love was.
And King Viserys was weak, easily led by the right words. Perhaps she could compel him not to marry, perhaps if she used the right words Rhaenyra could make him feel bad and guilty enough to give up on the idea he needed more children. She already acquired the most powerful weapon against the king; the weapon that would make him fold the moment the words slip from his daughter’s mouth.
It was with those thoughts in mind that Rhaenyra got out of bed, put on her slippers and sneaked back into the secret tunnels. She and Baela had come back from their visit to Syrax hours ago, it was now truly late into the night and morning would very soon come but Rhaenyra had learned from the previous visits to the king’s chambers he would likely be awake as well. Hopefully he would not be too much into his cups as she once saw him.
Rhaenyra first took the path to the King’s apartments that would lead her to her father’s bedchamber instead of his antechamber, carefully pushing the door open she peaked inside to find it fortunately empty; she then walked back into the tunnels to take the path towards the king’s antechamber. If her father was indeed once again there tinkering with his Valyria model, Rhaenyra would then go back to take the path that would lead to the king’s private solar that her father rarely used, from there it would be easier to lie to him from where exactly she came from.
Arriving once more at that particular tunnel, Rhaenyra was surprised by the voices coming from the other side of the wall. One voice was from her father, there was no doubt, bolstering about some story but the other one was too low to recognize, it was unmistakably a female voice though. Rhaenyra halted her steps, mind almost freezing in shock and fury.
Was her father entertaining some whore in his rooms? She wondered, seeing red in anger. It was not even a year yet since her muña passed and he was not only considering remarrying but bedding whores too? Rhaenyra again felt disgusted to be King Viserys’ daughter.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath to gather courage and calm herself not to do anything harsh again, then walked to the small stool by the little spot of the wall with small holes in it. By the position she was Rhaenyra could only see her father’s side, his face profile, while she could only see the woman’s back and the big Valyria model also helped to hinder her view of them. The woman wore a red dress that was quite familiar - to see for the first time the lady wearing a startling red color was a mark on Rhaenyra's mind - and she had dark auburn hair, a beautiful hairdo Rhaenyra was sure she also saw on the same lady’s head often these days. But it could not be.
The Lady Alicent was a pious young lady, fervent in her beliefs of the Seven, too meek and shy to be a sinful lady crawling into a widow man’s room late at night all alone. Rhaenyra could only assume whoever the woman was it was likely some whore from the Street of Silk trying to pass over as some good standing lady. She would need to have a talk with her former knight, Ser Harrold could not possibly dare to hurt her like this.
“The small council is urging me to remarry.” Her father said a few minutes after finishing his tale, so Rhaenyra turned her head to the side and put her left hear to the wall holes to be able to hear whatever the woman would reply. “It seems the realm wants for a new queen.”
“A good and kind queen will give comfort to your subjects.” The soft spoken voice of Lady Alicent rang louder this time, making it to Rhaenyra’s ears and she gasped loudly at the unexpected confirmation who the woman entertaining her father was. “Does the small council have a particular lady in mind?”
Alicent started picking at her nails nervously, her father had not mentioned anything about the council and the king finally thinking about a marriage. She expected to have more time to spend with King Viserys and woo his soft heart, more time to make him want her as his queen and decide for them to start their royal courtship.
“Lord Corlys Velaryon has offered the hand of his daughter, the Lady Laena.” Viserys answered, mind returning to the walk he had with the young girl and the talk he had with his Hand.
“A very strong match, Your Grace.” Alicent said after a moment of silence, heart beating furiously fast and dreams starting to collapse inside her mind.
How could she possibly hope to compete against Laena Velaryon, a full-blooded Valyrian girl, daughter of a Targaryen Princess who has a dragon, daughter of one of the wealthiest man of Westeros. Alicent was just a second son’s daughter, the king’s council would never think that match a good one and would strongly vouch for Laena. Does her father really has enough power over the king to sway his decision on his own, against many other lords?
“I must admit, I don’t’ know Laena very well.” Viserys commented, mind remembering the little he got to know on that one afternoon did not help to endear him to the idea of marrying a child.
“I’m sure that she is good and kind.” Alicent said trying not to sound too strained, abusing her cuticles as a way to ground herself. “And that she will enjoy your company as I have, Your Grace.” She added in an attempt to remind him that she was the one making him company for all these moons, the one to chase away his loneliness when he most needed. Then she quickly changed the subject, to try and keep his thoughts on her and her kindness. “I brought you something.”
Viserys looked surprised at the small box Lady Alicent put on the table and pushed over to him, not expecting her to gift him something. As a matter of fact he had been thinking of gifting her again, perhaps a bracelet to match the necklace he rarely saw her without. Viserys gave her a smile before opening the box and again being surprised by what he found inside: a dragon replica. Not unlike the ones that were part of his Valyria model.
“I asked the stonemasons to make it.” Alicent explained to show she did listen and paid attention to the things he told her. “You mentioned there was still a few dragons left to make the representation of the Fourteen Flames in full. So I thought you might like to add a new one that represents Balerion.”
“This is a very kind gesture, Alicent.” Viserys said looking over at the small dragon that did resemble Balerion somewhat, not knowing what else to say at the thoughtfulness of the young lady. “Very kind… Thank you, my lady.”
They smiled at each other, Alicent trying her best to stay confident in her efforts; all these moons could not be for naught, all the dreams born in her head needed to come true.
‘What a hypocritical whore.’ Rhaenyra thought furiously, still not entirely believing what she was witnessing. The girl had been her mother’s lady-in-waiting, she had been a playmate and companion to Rhaenyra when she had no one else to fill the role, and she preached endlessly about the Faith of the Seven and went religiously to the Sept. Yet here Alicent was alone with a widowed man when the sun would soon rise again, all prettily dressed and bringing gifts to the man. The King, Rhaenyra’s father.
Rhaenyra could not understand why nor how this came to be. She felt bile rise to her throat thinking they might had just finished lying in bed together, the bed her muña had occupied once, the bed where she was impregnated again and again until it killed her. Before she could run from there, in case they haven't yet but would still go to the King’s bedchamber to lay together, a knock echoed in the room.
“Come.” She heard her father say and so she peered again through the little holes curious to know who else might be wanting to visit the king at this hour.
“The Hand, Your Grace.” Rhaenyra heard Ser Harrold say after entering the room. She would definitely have a talk with him about this indecency.
Rhaenyra held her breath thinking the man would also catch the King with his unmarried young daughter all alone, hoping this would cause a scandal big enough that the Hightowers would soon be chase away from court. However, she was surprised once more when Ser Otto entered the room and did not even acknowledged his daughter there, simply gave a slight bow to the King before speaking the reason he was there.
“Your Grace, I’ve called the Small Council for an emergency session.” The Lord Hand said making Rhaenyra frown deeply, not understanding his calm demeanor towards the scene both of them caught inside the King’s chamber.
“Why?” Her father asked.
“I think it best if all the council hears it directly, at the same time.” Ser Otto said ominously.
Rhaenyra did not wait for her father’s response nor whatever else would take place between him and the Hightowers, whatever the Hand needed to discuss sounded important enough he wanted all the councilmembers assembled. She needed to get to the Small Council chambers quickly, for they were sure not to call on her yet again. There would be time to ponder over what she witnessed that night later, with a clearer head.
--
Every time there was a last minute council session scheduled in the middle of the night or too early in the morning, it took more time than usual for all the members to gather, which worked in Rhaenyra’s favor now whenever she used the tunnels to secretly be a part of a meeting.
Since the small council chambers were outside Maegor’s Holdfast, it was a long way to trek through the tunnels to get there so Rhaenyra hurried as fast as she could and luckily arrived at the secret tunnel behind one of the council chambers’ walls with a few minutes to spare before her father and the rest of his council started arriving.
She climbed on top of the small stool she had also put there since the holes in the wall there were way higher than the ones on the king’s chamber, but at least the acoustic of the chamber was better and louder to hear from behind the wall which was all she needed if she tired to be standing on her tip toes.
“Thank you, my lords, for coming.” She heard her father said before sitting down, his councilmembers following. “I apologize for taking you from your beds this late, or better said, early hour but the Hand has news he deemed too urgent to wait. Otto?”
“Your Grace, the latest envoy we sent to negotiate with some of the Free Cities returned a couple hours ago.” The Lord Hand said and Rhaenyra glimpsed the quick scowl on Lord Corlys face at hearing about that, never satisfied with the king’s passive actions regarding the Triarchy issue. “They brought with them a worrying tale.”
“Has the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy finally made more aggressive advances as I have already warned you they would?” Lord Corlys asked sarcastically.
“No, Lord Velaryon.” The Lord Hand replied. “The situation remains as it has being for many moons, nothing to be worried over or going to war for.”
“What news are these, Otto?” Her father asked, no doubt hurrying before both Hand and Master of Ships could again start a fight over that particular issue.
“The trusted men we sent reported that Prince Daemon has being getting himself involved in this Triarchy situation.” Ser Otto’s voice sounded judgmental and dramatic making Rhaenyra wonder what was the actual truth that these men reported to him.
“Prince Daemon has joined with the Triarchy?” Lord Strong asked in alarm.
“No but he is not going against them either.” The Hand answered and the quick way he added the ‘but’ sounded too suspicious for Rhaenyra. She would bet her life uncle Daemon would never join forces with anyone who would threaten their family’s dynasty. “They could not tell for certain what exactly the prince is plotting, only that word in the Free Cities is that he has been in talks with various influent people about the situation.”
“These men might not know for certain but I am sure whatever Prince Daemon may be doing is on behalf of Westeros and the Crown, not…” Lord Beesbury started saying with much conviction but was interrupted by the king.
“Whatever Daemon does is only on behalf of himself.” King Viserys said gravely. “Even if it is in the name of the Crown, he’s actions are unsanctioned.”
“Then perhaps it is time for us to act before a prince with a dragon commits treason one way or the other.” Lord Corlys said, undoubtedly glad for this changing in the winds.
“It would be best for the Prince to remain on our side, Your Grace.” Lord Strong supplied. “He has a dragon, it’s a battle tested warrior and as you rightly always say, he is volatile and unpredictable. It would not do to have him allying with the Triarchy.”
“So what? Should I call him back after the betrayal and hurt he dealt me?” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at her father’s words. “I think not, my lord. Let Daemon play his games across the Narrow Sea, he will soon tire of it and go back to his whoring.”
“Daemon could make a Harrenhal out of the Red Keep, Your Grace, if he so choses.” Lord Corlys said with a strained voice. “Should we be giving him reasons to want that?”
“Prince Daemon would not dare, my lord.” Grandmaester Mellos finally expressed his thoughts. “Besides, we have your wife who is a dragonrider as well.”
“The Princess Rhaenys has not seem battle as the prince has, Grandmaester.” Ser Harrold said, as he so rarely did, before Lord Corlys could react to the Maester's implication. “In battle often experience is a deciding factor.”
“We do not need to worry about Prince Daemon deciding to do such grievous crime, my lords.” The Lord Hand raised his voice a little, still speaking calmly. “His daughter resides in the keep and so does his niece. He would not harm them, we can be sure of that at least.”
Rhaenyra had to bite down a gasp at his words and her father lack of reaction to such grievous words. The Hand was basically making hostages out of them saying such a thing, ready to flaunt them as a weapon against uncle Daemon. Yet King Viserys remained silent to that, worse he agreed with it.
“Otto is right. Daemon is many things, does many despicable acts but he would never harm Rhaenyra not his only daughter in anyway." The King said solemnly. “And despite our differences, I know he will always value our bond as brothers.”
“Still, Your Grace, we should start worrying about this situation now that Prince Daemon is meddling in it.” Lord Strong was the first to break the tense silence that reigned after the Hand’s and the King’s words.
“I will be assembling trusting men to sail to Essos to look into it first thing in the morrow, Lyonel.” The Lord Hand said dripping false nicety. “But as our King wisely said, Prince Daemon will soon tire of this childish game…”
“And the Triarchy, Ser Otto?” Lord Corlys interrupted him. “Should we also wait out for them to tire themselves of something so beneficial to them?”
“We have already went over this, Lord Corlys.” King Viserys said in his most imposing voice. “There is no dire situation for us to concern ourselves with. Just some pirates they will soon go on to seek better prospects than some barren islands.” If Rhaenyra could – or cared anymore – slap the stupidity out of her father she would. “Now, if this is all, I would like some more hours of rest.”
Rhaenyra sighed in frustration and anger, then stood up to walk back to her room. Frustration at her father weakness for whatever Otto said, dancing along whatever tune he played, and preferring to remain inactive and watch his kingdom aflame. Anger at his and Otto’s obsession in doing their most to paint uncle Daemon as some evil monster set to usurp the throne and kill them all.
She could imagine her kepus being bored in exile and wanting some excitement and doing some fighting might be his preferred choice for that. But she could be sure he was likely just as worried and mad over this Crabfeeder wreaking havoc too close to Westerosi soil; if he was indeed meddling with that situation it was undoubtedly in their favor.
--
Arriving back in her rooms Rhaenyra found Baela wide awake, sitting on the bed with her egg cradled between her chubby legs and when she saw her, Baela clapped her hands and smiled.
“Pa Nya.” Her little cousin babbled happily making her smile too.
“Yes, little darling. They were bad mouthing your kepa again.” Rhaenyra said while taking off her boot and going to the washbasin to freshen herself before putting on her nightgown again.
“E-pa.” Baela stuttered out the word, as if tasting the sound which made Rhaenyra smile wider with proud. “Ag Nya.”
Rhaenyra sat down beside Baela and looked down at the dragonegg to find a new crack in it, this one longer running almost all of the scaled shell length.
“Oh, look at that.” Rhaenyra put an arm around her little cousin. “It seems it will actually hatch soon.”
Baela babbled some unintelligent words while her chubby hands rested atop the big crack and Rhaenyra chuckled, all events and discoveries and conversations of the night fleeing from her mind while only peace took over in the presence of her babe cousin.
“Time to go back to sleep though.” Rhaenyra said kissing Baela’s head. “It will be morning in just a couple hours”
Rhaenyra arranged a displeased Baela under the furs again, if her scrunched little nose was any indication, then went to the shut windows to open one a little bit to warm and light the room when the morning sun rose. By the time Rhaenyra was back in bed, laying down under the furs too, her little cousin was already droopy-eyed; she snuggled herself close to Baela with the egg between their bodies and closed her eyes.
On the morrow she would go back to worry about everything again but for now Rhaenyra would enjoy this peaceful little moment to rest. Who knew how long until there was no more of it? She needed to hold on these small moments as tight as possible while she could.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra left the Beesbury’s apartments with a big smile, her latest study session with Lord Lyman was better than other times since this time she was able to actually grasp the topic he was trying to teach her and the Master of Coin had approved of her idea about starting to have control over some of her own expanses. If the king was truly to remarry Rhaenyra could not have the new queen, even if that might be Laena, take over her gold and her household - even if she had no true household to speak of. Moreover, Baela was happier and happier to be taken care of by Beesbury clan and to spend hours playing with the their little ones.
She should probably look for more young mates for her little cousin to spend time with, Rhaenyra mused while walking back to Maegor’s Holdfast. Before going to talk with her father about her idea, Rhaenyra first wanted to decide what to do about her muña’s belongings, taking care of that was of utmost importance with the clock ticking and the time for the king’s new marriage looming too close.
While crossing a small inner courtyard Rhaenyra came across Lady Alicent likely walking towards the keep’s sept if the heavy Seven Pointed Stars tome was any indication. Rhaenyra almost snorted at that, just hours ago Alicent was shamelessly spending the night all alone with a widowed man, but then she caught sight of the older girl’s dress and Rhaenyra saw red for a second. Lady Alicent unlike the previous night was now donning one of her very simple and modest dresses, in the color blue which made Rhaenyra want to slap her across the face.
It was not enough for her to be whoring her way into the king’s bed, the place that belonged to Rhaenyra’s muña and was not even cold yet, no Alicent had to boldly dress herself in the colors of her muña’s house. Rhaenyra remembered well enough her muña’s lesson about what a choice of clothing could mean and she could not avoid wondering how long had Alicent harbored so much envy of Queen Aemma; only that in Rhaenyra’s mind could explain the lady’s actions.
“Going to mass, are we?” Rhaenyra asked sarcastically when the two of them passed each other, forcing Alicent to stop walking.
“Oh, yes, Princess Rhaenyra.” Alicent answered and smiled down at the little princess, not showing any respectful gestures as court manners dictated. “Septon Eustace is going to be the one doing it this morning. You should come.”
“No, thank you.” Rhaenyra said in a cold tone. “I have more important things to do.”
“To spend some time hearing the word of the Seven Who Are One and to pray to them it is also very important, Princess.” Alicent retorted in a tone the septas so often used to lecture Rhaenyra.
“To you Andals, perhaps.” She almost sneered at the girl in response. “But I am Valyrian, Lady Alicent, my gods are others.”
Alicent slightly widened her eyes at the princess words, surprised by her cold tone of voice and confused as to why the princess was behaving like this towards her; they have been getting along so well these past weeks.
“Now excuse me, I must be on my way.” Rhaenyra said raising her chin haughtily before leaving Lady Alicent behind before she could say anything more. When she was far enough, Rhaenyra looked back to her knight that was walking just a step behind her. “Can I make you a… Uncomfortable question, Ser Criston?”
“Of course, my Princess, whatever you wish.” The knight answered stepping beside the princess, a habit he started to develop the more the princess pulled him into idle chatter.
“If a lady visits a man at night, unchaperoned, she must be allowing him to bed her, right?” She asked craning her neck up to be able to better look at his comely face.
Ser Criston looked down at his princess in a loss, shocked at her question and how she so blatantly asked it to him. Though that did make him feel proud that his princess trusted in him this much.
“Why are you asking this, my Princess?” Ser Criston asked instead of answering, worried over whatever the reason might be.
“People are not too careful with children around when they’re gossiping, Ser.” Rhaenyra gave the same answer she gave Princess Rhaenys. “I heard about some ladies of the court doing that. Does it mean they are all being bedded?”
“Oh.” Ser Criston felt relieved with her answer and then thought he must be more attentive with gossipers being around and polluting his Princess' hears. “Well, if the woman is a lady of the court, a highborn lady, then such behavior is wrong and very improper, my Princess. No respectful lady should act in such indecent way ”
“Mm… But are they being bedded by the man, Ser?” Rhaenyra insisted, she needed to be sure that was what she witnessed last night, either the aftermath or what would take place if the Hand had not interrupted.
“Most likely.” Ser Criston finally answered, knowing by now how stubborn and insistent his Princess could be sometimes. “But you should not think of these matters Princess Rhaenyra. Such talks are not for a girl of your age and standing.”
Rhaenyra simply gave her knight a smile, sweet and innocent, and dropped the subject, continuing their walk in relative quiet. Though it was still hard to believe that coming from Lady Alicent, it was an unavoidable truth.
The Princess just could not understand why the older girl was lowering herself to such an act considering the religion she clung so strongly to. More baffling to her was how Alicent’s father, the Lord Hand was not scandalized to find his young daughter with the King; did he found then way before and had already had words with her father and they came to a understanding or did Ser Otto simply did not care at all what his daughter did or did not do?
This situation was something more complex than Rhaenyra’s little life knowledge could fathom much less find an explanation for. Maybe if her parents had nor shield her as much as they did throughout her short years of life, she might be able to comprehend and find answers easier but alas the King and Queen sheltered their only daughter more than what was common to be done with a princess of the blood. Even her kepus despite all the rumors about his wild ways of life did not bring any of it into their relationship.
Perhaps there was nothing more to think or see regarding what she saw, after all Lady Alicent was just a second son’s daughter with not as good prospects as other higher standing ladies. Perhaps the older girl just wanted a taste of what her station could not permit her to aim for nor dream of, Rhaenyra mused, and her ambitious father must think having his daughter warming the king’s bed would give him more favor in King Viserys council and court.
The Hightowers were truly despicable people, cunts as uncle Daemon so wisely called them, and Rhaenyra should strive to have them far away from her father’s court. If Princess Rhaenys mood had improved since their last interaction, maybe Rhaenyra would reveal another one of her findings and seek the older princess council about it and how to best proceed.
Something to do later, for now Rhaenyra would focus on her muña’s belongings and in how to best present her ideas to her father to get his permission. She now loathed to need his approval for anything but being just a child and years away from the time to actively become Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra would have to bow down like everyone else to King Viserys for the time being.
Notes:
So what's your thoughts?!?!?!??If you liked it leave kudos and comments, they're much appreciated 🥹
Author why isn't Rhaenyra shouting this for everyone and their mothers? Well my lovelies, she doesn't have a big reason too despite her anger, to her Alicent is too irrelevant whether she's whoring herself or not 🤷🏾♀️ that tune will change once that announcement is made!!
And also she's just 8 so she still sees a lot of things in a naive light and can't fully grasp the scope of certain thingsAnd her ""missteps"" regarding Criston the Incel has begun 💔 along w his delusions of grandeur 🤡 his creep ways will soon follow cause I'm of the mind that in book canon he was a creep to babe Rhae , probably one of the reasons he turned on her when she was older and obviously did not want his ass cause no I don't buy that "seduction lessons" BS 🙄
What to say about Vizzy the Clown and his b* that we haven't a million times right?! These truly deserve each other 🤦🏾♀️
Babe Baela's dragon is almost here folks!!!
I think it will likely be on chapter 20 it will finally be born and amidst some very wild situation 🫣But first next chapter we'll be taking a trip to Essos cause anyone who thought Daemon was not being idle in his exile was 100% right 😉
I already hated that we don't have much material in the book about the whys and all the hows Daemon & Corlys got together to plot a whole ass war , again the error of writing the story as GRRM did 🤦🏾♀️ Then came the show and did that disservice, basically implying Daemon got involved exclusively because Corlys called him and for funnies, which is just ugh!!!!
Yeah, Daemon probably doesn't give a single shit about the whole realm and other people but canonically the Targaryen dynasty is very important to him so imo he would like care and act to ensure his family security instead of doing shit all about it!!
Book& series are so biased for implying/make otherwise 🙄Also, exploring Daemon in Essos its also to bring in some new and interesting characters 😌 I actually came up w this idea for my other fic and then I realized this plot could work even better in this story , hopefully you guys will like it!!!
And ofc if youre interested for some visuals for the fic, here's the links:
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-18/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/alicent-hightower/outfits-chapter-18/It's been a few chapters that I haven't put up the characters ages cause since it's still early 106AC no one had a bday yet but I'll add this time anyways 😅
Rhaenyra: 8
Viserys: 28 (his bday will be soon, still thinking of what to do for his unworthy ass)
Alicent: 17
Baela: 1
Otto: 35
Corlys: 50
Lyman: 60
Lyonel: 45
Criston: 24
Harrold: 48
Mellos: 63Guess that's all 🤭 If you have any doubts/curiosity drop a comment that I'll love to answer you 😉
See you in the next one 😘❣️
Chapter 20: Chapter Nineteen: 106 AC Part IV - Of family reunions. And truthful revelations
Notes:
Heeeellooou, an update has finally arrived 🥰
This chapter should be called "Jaehaerys&Alysanne's bashing feast" tbh cause I'll be exploring a bit more my dislikes of them as parents and as monarchs too. So to anyone who might be a fan of them, here's your warning you may not like this chapter very much 🤭
Anyways...
Here you have a look what Daemon has been up to in Essos!! I'll not dive too much into details (if I suck in westeros politics imagine essos politics) cause I'll leave to expand more on this later on when the Stepstones arc will come into play 😉
This is a very dialogue-heavy chapter, especially towards the end, so it might not be all that great a chapter since I'm not too good in writing dialogue :/ buuuuut I had a lot of fun coming up w these wild little insights/ideas for this chapter so hopefully you guys will like it too w bad dialogue and all 😅
I updated the tags as well, check it out alright;)
High Valyrian = bold-italics
Have a fun reading 🥰
I'll see you in the end notes!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Caraxes alighted on Volantis when the sun was descending on the horizon, the last rays of the sunset making his red scales glow in an eerily way.
Daemon did not like to visit Volantis as much as other Essosi cities since there was not many good places for Caraxes to make a safe lair at in Volantis itself. But also because he was cautious of a city that was Saera Targaryen’s in all but name, it was a well-known fact there how loath she was of the family she ran away from.
Climbing of off Caraxes, he quickly unfastened his saddlebags from the more than moody dragon, the trip from Qohor to Volantis was a long and daunt one; Daemon had preferred not to back track his steps so instead from there he went directly to his last destination. His trip around the Nine Free Cities had not being as successful as he thought it might which was why despite his reservations Daemon needed to stop by Volantis as well.
He had already not expected any results from Qohor or Norvos, the only reason to his trips there was to commission some Norvoshi tapestries as gifts for his girls and to finally see if the tales of Qohor still possessing the ways to make Valyrian steel was true. After all the sneaking, politicking and scheming in the other cities Daemon earned a much needed few days of rest but now it was time to get back on track and to face the possible biggest challenge of his self-imposed task.
If Viserys wanted to bury his head in the sand and do nothing about the Triarchy slowly but surely gaining more and more footing in the Stepstones, he was welcomed to do so but that did not mean Daemon would do the same and risk the Westerosi sea trading and those ship lanes that were essential for it. For now the Velaryons were the ones suffering the most blows with the Triarchy attacks, it would not take long though before all the other houses that did shipping trades were affected too if all the information he gathered held true.
“You will have to stay with the saddle on, boy.” Daemon said while petting Caraxes big head and the dragon huffed as if annoyed by his words. “I cannot be sure how things will go down here. You have to be ready if I need some very fast rescuing like last time.”
Caraxes bumped his head against Daemon’s chest, almost in a gentle manner for a dragon as big and wild as him, and their bond flared for a second in worry. No doubt his dragon was still harboring fear and exasperation for his rider’s too close call a couple weeks back during their visit to Myr when he got himself in a rather brutal scuffle in the streets of the city. In hindsight it had been a mistake to even set foot on the city where that Crabfeader was from but Daemon was itching for some action for weeks so he let recklessness take over.
Though it was unlikely the same would happen here he could not really know how exactly his long “lost” aunt would react to him showing up in her doorstep all of a sudden for the first time ever. All the other very few times he came here Daemon stayed for as little time as it took to taste some local food, have his fill of drinks and cunts before swiftly moving on to other places. He never even dared try to go inside the Black Walls and could not say where nor how to found one Saera Targaryen.
“Go on, have a meal and then get some rest.” Daemon said still caressing the dragon’s head and received an almost purring noise from Caraxes. “If everything goes right, I’ll try to get an elephant for you, what do you think?”
Caraxes made one of his odd click noises and head-butted Daemon again who chuckled and then his dragon was off to do his own thing. Daemon put the hood of his cloak over his head before also walking towards the city, the night fast replacing the day and darkening his path. He had landed a few leagues away from the city not to draw too much attention, with all the inquiries and secret propositions of alliance he has being making it was better to keep as low a profile as possible.
During his brief stay in Pentos to rest from the tiring travels from Braavos to Lorath, to Lys, to Tyrosh and lastly to Myr, Reggio had informed him that some Westerosi men had poked around seeking information about Prince Daemon’s business in the Free Cities. Envoys of the Crown with men the Hightower cunt had entrusted to find some gossip about him, Daemon was sure. No one in his family had ever tried contact with him while across the Narrow Sea much less spy on whatever he may be doing, once he was up in the air to fly away they all washed their hands of him.
Maybe Rhaenyra would be the exception if he gave his little niece the chance but Daemon would rather not have another disappointment, especially not coming from one of two people he still loved and cared about. So he simply sent his daughter’s nameday gift – a beautiful gold ring with the Targaryen sigil she could wear once she was older – and the maps of the secret tunnels with strict orders for the envoy to drop it off with his trusted gold cloaks without saying no more than the necessary information.
Daemon’s thoughts came to a halt once he arrived close enough to the city to hear the bustling of its people. He did not want to draw too much attention yet but that would be inevitable, either with a hood on or not, people were sure to notice such a peculiar foreigner in their midst, but he preferred to delay wording getting back to his aunt about a silver-haired man carrying a Valyrian steel sword.
It was better to play the suspicious and shady hooded man for the night and then on the morrow after a good night’s rest Daemon would set out to finally reunite with the infamous Saera Targaryen.
--
Daemon sat in a corner of the tavern quietly breaking his fast while observing the other patrons that were also renting quarters at that establishment, no one paying him any attention which allowed him to better listen in to their conversation for any useful information. He was so engrossed in observing and listening to the people around he did not notice a woman approaching his table until she sat right in front of him.
“So, you are the infamous Rogue Prince.” The woman said in High Valyrian instead of the bastardized language most of Essos spoke, though she still held a slight accent.
Daemon zeroed in his eyes on the young woman before him and was taken aback, his mind jumping years in the future imagining how this could be how his Baela would look like. Although the color of her hair was wrong, blonde instead of silver-gold, and her brown eyes were darker than Baela’s, there was just something about the shape of her face and the way she haughtily held her chin up that was too familiar, too Targaryen.
“That will depend who’s asking.” He said arching an eyebrow, and the way she grinned at him also tugged at something familiar in the back of his mind that he could not put his finger on.
“It is so nice to finally meet family, Prince Daemon.” The girl said, giving him a scrutinizing look up and down. “Targaryens look all the same, don’t you?”
“Who are you?” Daemon asked, tensing at her words, not liking how unprepared he was for this sudden encounter.
“Your cousin, of course.” She said as if it was obvious and once he did not react, keeping to his blank expression she snorted before adding “Right, you wouldn’t know anything about me… Mother does know much about you lot though.”
“You’re Saera’s daughter.” He affirmed more than asked, the familiar feeling making sense at last.
Though Daemon had as many memories from his aunt as he did his mother which would be little to none, Alysanne talked plenty about her wayward daughter when he was still a little boy who would not snitch on her to old Jaehaerys. When she still held any sort of affection for him.
And she had commissioned a painting of Saera that the Old King was never aware of, it hung in the bedchambers she had usually occupied while staying in Dragonstone; Daemon and his father were likely the only ones who knew of it. Now looking at her daughter, he could clearly see the resemblance the girl had to that painting despite her lack of the Targaryen pale complexion, silver hair and violet eyes.
“Mother is quite curious about you, cousin. Eager to know if this will finally be the time you seek a family reunion.” She said with a smirk, still not revealing her name.
“Oh, really?” Daemon questioned, preferring to exact caution in case this was a set up and he was seeing things where there was nothing to see.
“She likes to keep herself informed of the goings of Westeros but she doesn’t really care.” The girl shrugged. “Especially regarding the family. All unremarkable Targaryens, as she says, but you are the exception.”
“How flattering.”
“Are you finished?” She asked suddenly, leaning over the table and reaching her hand to pick up at his plate. “She’s been waiting since last night. I haven’t seen mother this excited to see someone in a long time.”
“Hm.” Daemon hummed, weighing his options but curiosity won in the end. Hopefully this girl was the real deal and would take him to the Saera he came here for. “Well, let’s not keep auntie waiting any longer, then.”
--
Now walking without any subterfuge, proudly showcasing who he was to everyone around, the people bustling through the streets of Volantis looked at Daemon with interest and curiosity; some eyes eagerly searching for the ancestral Valyrian sword on his hip. Daemon rested his hand over the pommel, not much to appear threatening but more to ensure no daring bold hands would attempt to steel Dark Sister.
It would not do to start the day killing someone before he even got the chance to win an alliance with this city.
“Are we not going to Old Volantis?” Daemon asked, changing to the common tongue since he did not like to speak the family’s ancestral language with outsiders.
And until he could assess whether he could consider Saera and hers family still, Daemon would rather keep things in the space of unfamiliarity.
“No. We do not live there anymore.” The girl answered in common, with a thicker accent than when speaking High Valyrian. “Mother tired from all the politics there, says it reminded her way too much from her father’s court.”
Daemon just hummed in acknowledgement and became even hyper aware of his surroundings if the girl would be taking him somewhere more unknown to him than the streets of New Volantis. Especially considering she was quite famous, there was always people greeting her and trying to stop to talk with her, though she treated them flippantly and almost coldly.
“Malik, mother’s husband build her a grand and garish manse just by Volaena last year when he was elected again as a Triarchy.” She said while leading the way further into the city. “She stays the whole time there now, likes the peace of it better, if you can believe it.”
No, Daemon could not imagine the Saera Targaryen liking peace and quiet but then again she was not a rebellious young woman anymore, has a daughter and all.
“She also prefers it there to raise the little ones away from the craziness she raised me and my brother in.” The girl continued, quite the chatter little thing he mused with a small grin of amusement; she was either revealing more than necessary without properly thinking or doing it on purpose for some reason.
“You have siblings then?” He questioned to pry more information from her.
“You have four cousins on this side of the sea, Rogue Prince.” She answered glancing at him with a grin of her own. “Like you, I’m the second child. There’s Daelius, our older brother. Then little Skylar and lastly little Belicho.” She named her siblings but still said nothing of her own name which only further amused Daemon, then she took a turn in a narrower street that led to a sizeable square up ahead. “By your Westerosi boring rules, only Belicho would be considered a legitimate child, he even has a last name.”
They arrived at the square and right away Daemon knew they were in the infamous Jaehaerys’ Square, the haven of all Saera’s pleasure houses in Volantis.
He could not deny how pleasing it was to know a place such as this was named after his grandsire, he felt as petty and vindictive as his aunt must have felt when choosing the name. And the reputation of the place made justice to what he heard of it; the buildings were more richly build and actually pretty to look at them the most expansive pleasure house in King’s Landing and other places he visited before.
“Daelius and I were sired by some patron or another when mother still worked in Lys.” His supposed cousin continued, walking to the other side of the square where two horses were at. “Skylar was a gift to a former Braavosi Sealord that put plenty of coin to help mother build this place. Though he died right after being supplanted as sealord and trying to take Skylar and take over mother’s business for himself. Quite the coincidence.”
“I would bet it was.” Daemon said smirking to hear that and at the girl’s dangerous and proud glint in her eyes while saying that.
“I hope you don’t mind riding a horse.” She said when they got to the two horses and gestured to the brown destrier while going to stand beside a white mare. “It must be quite boring compared to flying on a dragon.”
“Nothing compares to that.” He confirmed with a proud grin.
“Well, I hope you can take pity on your cousin who’s never see one and show me to your Blood Wyrm.” The girl boldly asked without any reservations and shyness. “Mother told us he is a fearsome beast to behold.”
“She tells you about the family?” He asked while the two of them mounted their horses.
“Not really. Just about the dragons.” She answered, again leading the way to wherever it is they were going. “Mother only keeps informed about the happenings in Westeros for business purpose but she does not care of whatever happens within the royal family”
“Hm” Daemon could not blame her for that decision considering no one cared to know about her either.
“I meant it, cousin.” She switched to High Valyrian and gave him a mischievous look, eyes roving him up and down in a suggestive manner. “I would love to ride a dragon.”
“If you behave well perhaps I will let you, cousin.” Daemon smirked slyly at her, not surprised a daughter of Saera would be a flirtatious girl.
Though since seeing too much of his Baela in this girl, what his daughter could grow up into, and no desire had bloomed in Daemon towards her; nothing would happen between them but she did not need to know that yet if it meant souring his chances of a decent encounter with her mother.
She smiled satisfied with his answer before quickening the pace of her horse, Daemon doing the same to closely follow her. It was not often he saw horses inside like this in the Essosi cities but he remembers from grandmother’s tales how well Saera had liked to ride and tend to the horses of the keep’s stables.
They trotted through the city, coming across the huge elephants a couple times – perhaps he would trade with this supposed cousin a pat to Caraxes if she got his boy the promised elephant – until they were off the city and in the vast expanse of land outside.
It was true riding a horse was an underwhelming affair once you tasted the incomparable feel of the sky but Daemon still liked to do it if it was in a situation that would give him the necessary dose of adrenaline. And he mostly did it during jousts, even if that had lost most its appeal after he had also tasted what it was like to ride a horse into a brutal battle against the Dothraki.
It was quite nice now to simply race against this cousin of his though. Daemon’s mind unable to once again not jump into a future where this could be him and his daughter. Him and his two girls. Not racing simple horses, no, racing their dragons through the vast expanse of the skies.
Unsurprisingly a minute after such thought crossed Daemon’s mind, Caraxes familiar roars echoed above them and soon his boy was descending from above the clouds to keep pace with them. Their minds always connected and never far from each other.
Even if the dragon was still very high up, the horses reared and whined in fear, the power his boy evoked too great to go unnoticed not matter the distance. He grinned seeing the girl stop altogether and look up with wonder filled eyes, mouth slightly agape and totally ensnared by the sight. Sensing the pride in their bond and knowing he was being watched, Caraxes roared louder and danced through the air swifter and prettier than a bird ever could to show off.
“Stories does not make them justice, does it?” Daemon’s voice was full of proudness, heart swelling to know how much wonder his boy evokes, how much power his family’s dragons held.
“No, it doesn’t.’ She whispered and then looked down again, giving him a wide and rather genuine smile, quite childish too. Then she reined in her mare so they would continue their path.
Daemon really should separate this girl, a complete stranger no matter the blood relation, from his Baela. It was hard though when his heart constantly ached from the distance between them, from not being able to see her little face anymore, from not seeing his daughter growing up. For being as bad a father as his had been, as his brother was.
--
Once they arrived at the manse of Saera Targaryen, which was over an hour from Volantis and right by banks of the river Volaena, Daemon felt amused thinking about another one of old Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s failures when it came to their children.
If they had been better parents and more politically smart they would have known the great potential they had in their hands, for if Saera could build a huge fortune and an empire on her own from scratch, she could have been a great player in the politics of Westeros. Instead Jaehaerys allowed himself to be poisoned by the teachings of the Faith and the Andalos’ costumes, always demeaning his own children and grandchildren because of it and weakening their house.
Daemon never said anything out loud for fear of being punished for it but he secretly had always admired his cunning, manipulator and rebellious aunt. Now here he was, about to reunite with her, though it would be more of a first meeting really since his memories of her was blurry at best.
The manse looked more of a royal palace than anything, a huge and imposing building that was almost as big as the red keep and even bigger than many castles in Westeros, and Daemon could see hints of Valyrian architecture in it.
“Come, cousin, mother’s court awaits us.” The girl said with a sarcastic grin and then led him inside the big manse.
In the corridors servants and guards walked around doing their own thing and paid them no mind, and to Daemon surprise none of them seemed to be slaves as was so common in Volantis and throughout Essos. Daemon keen eyes took everything in with great interest and alertness, cataloguing anything necessary in case something went sideways and he needed a way out.
The two of them walked for a few minutes until they took a turn and arrived at a huge wide room where right by the end of it there was a literal throne with a beautiful woman sat atop it with a crown on her head. Daemon choked at the sight, at the daring move, but quickly regained his composure and internally cursed his grandparents again. If only Viserys and him would have had this woman as a mother figure in their life, maybe things would have turn out better for them, maybe then Viserys would not have become the weak fool he was.
His aunt truly had a court of her own, there were at least two dozen people around the room, richly dressed and with a posture that spoke to their high birth and status. As Daemon got closer he was able to better assess the woman, his aunt, that was sitting on her own throne and his other three cousins that were surrounding her at the throne dais.
There was a young man standing by her right side, dark of skin, dark curly hair and dark brown eyes, but just like his sister his haughty facial features was proof enough of his Targaryen blood. Looking the boy up close when he stopped by the foot of the throne dais, Daemon could see some facial traits that resembled old Jaehaerys quite a bit. By Saera’s feet sat two children: one girl that could not be older than Rhaenyra, she possessed the same dark coloring of the young man, and a younger boy who held all of the Valyrian features.
Daemon eyes then focused on the austere woman looking down at him, her eyes just as blue as Alysanne’s but with a shrewdness that his grandmother did not had at all, and he was amazed at how young she still looked. His aunt should have seen at least forty namedays if his count was right but she did not look older than five and thirty; and she did not look as a woman who had given birth to four children.
Daemon remembered uncle Aemon best from all of his parents’ siblings and Saera resembled him a lot, and knowing this now it made sense why Alysanne obsessed over her so much after the prince’s death.
“My, my, but don’t you look just like Baelon.” Saera said with impeccable High Valyrian, her first words to him, and her eyes sparkled with much more curiosity and fondness than the usual judgments Daemon was used to be looked at by his relatives.
“People actually say I favor my mother.” He corrected her, for that was one of the very few things Daemon truly was proud in himself.
“Was Alyssa forgot that easily then?” She snorted making Daemon clench his jaw. She then tapped a finger on her chin before adding “No, more likely the people in the Red Keep did not even see her at all.”
Saera stood up then and walked to the edge of the dais, standing tall above Daemon, though she did not look down at him as if he was inferior or an annoying cockroach as the rest of their family did. This up close, his aunt was even prettier and it was even more jarring her resemblance to Uncle Aemon, though he did not remember his uncle being half as beautiful.
“Fourteen, it’s like seeing a ghost. Like seeing Baelon again the day father shoved me in a carriage to be sent away.” Saera commented before climbing down the dais to stand before Daemon, her height as small as he remembered his grandmother and Gael being. Like Aemma was. Like Rhaenyra would one day be.
“I could say the same, aunt. You look a lot like uncle Aemon.”
She let out a trembling chuckle, blue eyes sparkling with tears to Daemon utter astonishment, then she grasped his jaw turning his head slightly to one side and the other as if perusing an animal’s pedigree.
“And he and I resembled Deanerys, according to mother.” She said letting go of his face and turning to the rest of the people keenly observing them. “I apologize, my dear people. This family reunion is proving to be more emotional than I expected it to be.” A regal and polite smile graced her lips while she addressed them in a Volantene dialect of High Valyrian. “Please, enjoy the food and drinks, my children will entertain you while I take my nephew for a walk to do some catch up.”
Without asking him to accompany her nor waiting for anyone’s reaction, Saera circled her arm around his and pulled him towards the exit, and Daemon let him be led by her still stunned with this encounter to fight even if he wanted to. This was not at all turning out as he expected either.
They walked in silence for some minutes, the servants and guards now stopping to bow respectfully to their mistress, and Daemon tried to put his thoughts in order while still being alert to his surrounds and the parts of the manse they passed by. Saera took him to a big balcony that overlooked the Volaena and the vast land beyond.
“I hope Shaena was not too annoying.” Saera said after they sat side by side in one of the sofas; the way she crossed one leg over the other gave him an eyeful of her calves and thighs thanks to the long side cut her dress had.
“So that’s her name?” Daemon asked focusing his eyes back to her face.
“She does has a terrible habit of not revealing her name.” Was her reply. “I’m afraid she took some of my lessons too much serious.”
“Daelius, Skylar and Belicho are the names of your other children?” He more affirmed than asked.
“That’s right.” She answered and again smiled fondly. “Mother always said mothers do not have favorites. A hypocritical lie from her of course. I’m very open about loving my Shaena best of all.”
“Hm” Daemon just hummed, keeping his nonchalant and relaxed demeanor as best as possible but still feeling unsure and uncomfortable with this odd turn of events.
Three servants arrived then carrying trays with Volantene pastries, a flagon of wine and two goblets; they were quick to set it all on the small low table before hurriedly scurrying off.
“I hope you are not picky about Essosi wine like our people usually are.” Saera said while pouring the liquid in their goblets.
“I have visited enough to have acquired a taste for them.” He answered honestly.
“Good. This vintage from the Jade Sea though it’s as rare around here as it is good.” She commented with a smirk and Daemon took the offered goblet.
“Well, I’m flattered.” He said and then held out his goblet in cheers before downing the whole thing in one go. The taste was incredibly good indeed, much better than the sweetest of Westerosi wines.
“You did not seem very happy about my comment of Alyssa.” Saera spoke after a couple minutes of them silently drinking a second glass of wine. “It was not my intention to cause offense, nephew.”
She sounded genuine enough but Daemon just kept an unimpressive expression while looking at her which earned him a very inelegant snort.
“That look it is all hers though. And the color of your eyes.” She said switching back to High Valyrian. “My sister was no great beauty, more beautiful than most Andalos women for sure but her qualities laid elsewhere.” Again the fond glint in his aunt’s eyes made Daemon’s head twist in on itself with how controversial that was from what he was made to believe.
“Baelon on the other hand used to be as pretty and delicate as a girl when he was a teenager. Alyssa and I liked to call him little princess when where younger.” Saera’s lips involuntarily stretched into a wide smile with the memory, it was not every day she allowed herself to remember such small and good things from her old life. Just as quickly the memory soured though. “At least until father made the septas lecture us for hours on end as punishment when he heard us say that.”
Daemon eyes widened at this unknown piece of information about his parents and of this aunt that everyone made it sound as if she was a horrible sister, the worst of the king and queen’s children.
“By your surprised look I’ll assume courtiers and maesters and whoever else make me as a villainous and bad sister who was not close to any of her siblings, for she was oh so very spoiled and a bully.” She commented sarcastically and bitterly, as if reading his exact thoughts and Daemon could do nothing but give a slight nod of the head as confirmation.
“The lords and ladies of court were always so dramatic, and the maesters and septons and sptas.” Saera continued, proving to be as chatty as her daughter, rolling her eyes. “One small disagreement between us and they made it seem as if we were about to kill each other. Father and mother were never around enough to know better than to believe their subjects exaggerations.” She sipped on her wine, looking over the balcony to the river. “They were always too keen to see the worst in us for whatever reason I never could understand.”
“I see they were always bad at parenting then.” Daemon snorted, glad to not be the special one regarding his grandparents’ lack of love.
“Oh darling, you have no idea.” She laughed looking back at him. “Old Jaehaerys was not born to be a father. And Alysanne’s mothering instincts died with Daenerys, some of us believed at least.” Saera said bitterly and then added “Vaegon was of the mind they kept having children for the sake of the bloodline. I thought they just wanted cattle to sell off… They proved me right when they sold Daella off to the Arryns, didn’t they?”
“As the tales go, aunt Daella was terrified of my mother, you and Vaegon.” Daemon commented, this fact always bothersome to him as he could not imagine his mother in such bad light.
“Alyssa and I certainly made some distasteful pranks on little Daella, and Vaegon’s tongue was as sharp and hurtful as a dragon’s teeth when he wanted too.” Saera said defensively and displeased with how he siblings were always portrayed by people who never even tried to actually know neither of them. “Daella did have a tender heart and was the sweetest of us, but she was not the meek and weak little flower mother wanted people to believe her to be.”
“Grandmother made a splendid job in making everyone believe that though.”
“That is only because Daella was good at being the shy weak daughter mother wanted to have for once, that was the way Daella found to manipulate her way into favoritism. But also to make father and mother berate us all the time, it was her punishment for us.” She grinned maliciously, blue eyes glinting in proudness. “Only Gael was truly the way people saw her as. Poor thing never had a chance against mother’s smothering.”
Daemon’s head started to pound with the beginning of a big ass headache, every word coming out of Saera’s mouth setting the world he thought he knew on fire, turning half of his beliefs about his family to ashes.
“Tales also says Daella was the one to choose Lord Arryn after rejecting many suitors. At least she had a choice in the matter.” Daemon commented bitterly.
“Did she now?” Saera retorted with a raised eyebrow. “Mother loved to throw Daella every highborn boy she could think of and Daella entertained them for the sake of mellowing mother but in the end she always came up with a good excuse to refuse them all.
Then father gave her an ultimatum not a choice. Baratheon, Lannister and Arryn was Father’s and his council political options. Daella did not want to marry at all, she loved Aemon as more than a brother but we knew father would never allow any of us to do what Aegon once did.” Saera explained the reality no one had ever bothered to know about what truly laid beneath her parents’ veneer of great monarchs.
“She opted for the least evil.” Daemon concluded.
“As I said, aside from Gael, we were all cunning little demons.” She grinned proudly at him. “Vaegon liked boys so he treated Daella bad and went to the citadel to avoid marriage. Poor Maegelle was promised to the Faith even before she found out why she loved Alyssa so much and she probably loved Daella the same but our sisters preferred brotherly cock instead… Poor thing, never got the chance to participate in our orgies”
Daemon chocked on his wine, almost spitting it out at hearing that. What in the name of the Fourteen was the life of his parents and uncles and aunts that seemly not a single person was aware of?
“Don’t be so shocked, nephew. Blood calls to blood, as the Valyrian saying goes, and we kids had too much unsupervised nightly time in our hands.” Saera laughed, blue eyes looking mischievously at him. “I’m the whore of the family just because I never bothered in being discreet and let myself be caught in the end. But if our parents and their court truly knew half of what we all got up to alone in our rooms…”
“What exactly did you all got up to?” He asked unable to avoid the curiosity to know more, needing to know he was not this promiscuous monster people made him into simply because.
“We kissed, we touched, some of us fucked.” She answered with a shrug of the shoulder, as if it was no big deal. “I guess only Maegelle remained a virgin if the rumor about Gael have any truth to it.”
She looked expectantly at him waiting for conformation or denial of it and Daemon gave a nod, if she was unprompted and willing in sating his lack of knowledge of their family he could do the same for her.
“Good girl. If only she had had a stronger constitution.” She smiled sadly. Then continued “Not even Daella went to her marriage bed with a maidenhead. It was Aemon’s parting gift to her.” Saera winked at him. “It was terrible timing, but there’s a reason why Viserra sought out Baelon to try to avoid a marriage, he would have probably married her if not for mother’s intervention.”
“Father did not want to marry again, he loved mother too much.” Daemon said defensively, that not at all a good thing to be destroyed in his mind.
“Women from other houses, yes he would not have accepted as wives but his younger sisters he would.” Saera corrected, unafraid to hurt his feelings if it meant for him to know hidden truths. “Aemon could not for he was the heir and needed to be seen in a wonderful light by father, the small council and the Faith but Baelon did offer to marry me after that unnecessary scandal and to avoid father sending me away.”
“Wh-what…?” He was at a loss, feeling like he had entered a different universe entirely.
“We had lost plenty by that point and none of us wished to be parted and away from each other, away from home.” She explained in a gentler tone. “What we wanted or was best for us never mattered to the King nor to his Queen, being their own damn children was of no consequence to them.”
“They allowed father and mother to marry.” Daemon commented, the one good thing he could think of right away his grandparents did for their children.
“Alyssa told me once that father had already someone in mind for her to be married off to be used to shore up an alliance. So Baelon revealed they had laid together to try avoiding that and begged mother to change father’s mind and she did because Alysanne could never deny anything to her sons.” Saera explained, almost amused by the look on her nephew’s face. “He also wanted to sell me off to the Riverlands… Or was it the Stormlands? Whichever it was, I did not want their disgusting old lord with children of his own already.”
“Like they wanted to do with Viserra.” Once again Daemon was disappointed with how badly his grandparents handle their children and grandchildren marriages. His parents and brother the only exception to the rule.
“I will never understand their logic for these choices of matches.” She deeply scowled, nose scrunching in a way reminiscent of Aemma and Rhaenyra. “They could have truly brought our house to greatness again, make the realm remember why we conquered them, make them tremble at our feet and never dare to reach higher them they should.” Saera looked with unbridled fire in her eyes, an anger he was used to see in Alysanne’s eyes when looked down at him, disgust dripping of her every word. “They could have kept it all in the family instead of giving it all to outsiders. Instead of bowing down to Andals and their faith as if we were not the ones with fucking dragons to burn them all down.”
“Now I understand why they disliked me so much.” He said with a cheeky grin.
“Good, their hate said and meant more than their love, darling.” Saera reassured him. “Which is why I was always curious about you, wishing to meet you again while Rhaenys and your brother only ever disappointed me.” She scoffed, clearly displeased with those two which Daemon could not fault her for. “Jaehaerys allowing that girl to marry the Sea Snake I get, he wanted an alliance with the man for a long time, but how could Aemon? He and Baelon should have known better and betrothed Viserys and Rhaenys when they were still in the cradle as was Alyssa’s wish.”
“Mother wanted them…” Daemon could not finish before a laugh came from deep in his chest. “Rhaenys would have eaten Viserys alive!”
“Perhaps Alyssa already knew the weakling her older son would turn out to be. It’s likely why she loved you best of all.”
“Did she really?” He asked almost shyly to his own chagrin. One thing was to hear it from Viserys and even their father, another to hear it from a cruel honest source like Saera was proving to be.
“Alyssa literally kicked Baelon out of their bedroom so you would have all the space in the bed.” Saera laughed at the memory. “He spent days sulking around and following Aemon everywhere.”
Daemon felt his throat constrict in knowing that, to be sure for good that his mother did love him like no one else seemed to. It hurt to wonder yet again how much different things would have been if Alyssa had not died.
“She wanted Aemma brought to court when Daella died, wanted you two betrothed so the girl would not be sent somewhere else when older.” She added, smiling sadly again. “Daella was not mother’s little weak thorniless flower as she liked to delude herself with. Daella was our young little hatchling, delicate and unassuming but very dangerous all the same.”
“Is that why you named your son after her?” Daemon asked, her fondness for her siblings was quite undeniable, at least he wanted to believe his reading of people was good enough to notice if she was not being truly genuine.
“Yes.” Saera confirmed with a wide smile, then added “And Shaena for the daughter your parents wanted to have one day… I could never wrap my head around why Alyssa died from childbirth of all things.” She commented with sad frown, looking into the distance pensively. “Both her pregnancies went as smooth as all of mother’s, as all of mine too. You and your brother came quickly and without much fuss. And she looked just as great during that third pregnancy, we could have never imagined it would end like that.”
“It was for naught. Aegon died anyways.” Daemon whispered intently looking at the liquid in his cup, bitterly musing how his mother and brother’s deaths were similar to that of Aemma and his nephew, both women dying for boys who would not even get to live.
The difference was that what Viserys did, how he allowed his own wife be butchered, was something their father would have never done to his beloved Alyssa.
“You know, we learned very early on to never allow people, not even our parents, to see us break. To see anything affecting us in any way because everyone would always use it against us.” She answered looking back at him again. “But Viserra and I spent two days locked in our rooms crying after we received news of Daella’s death. And even longer when your mother died which I regret because Baelon needed us and only Aemon was strong enough to be there for him.” Saera looked away again, unshed tears glistening in her blue eyes. “Both times father told people we were sick or whatever stupid excuses, probably why no one paid any mind to talk about it.”
“No, they did not.” He affirmed, yet again in astonishment for not knowing any of this, for things so detrimental being kept hidden even within their family.
“I don’t hate my parents for sending me away and trying to lock me up in a sept.” She said with a scowl. “I’m actually thankful for that, I wouldn’t have my children otherwise… What I hate them for, what I’ll never forgive them for, was that my siblings kept dying one by one and they still did not call me back. They denied me the chance to say goodbye.”
Would this woman ever seize to totally upend Daemon’s world? He mused in shock at her words and even more so for the stray tears shining in her pale cheeks. He stayed silent, understanding way too well her feelings. If it wasn’t his vigilance in keeping himself aware of news from Kings Landing, Daemon would not even had known about Gael’s death, even if he was not at all close to his young aunt, they should have called him back right away.
If Daemon was away in Essos instead of just exiled to Runestone, he was sure Viserys nor Jaehaerys would have remembered to send word of either Alysanne’s nor Baelon’s deaths. His brother certainly did not even try to warn him of their grandfather’s death.
“I’m sorry about your losses.” He said genuinely, words he never received from anyone but Aemma when they lost Baelon.
“Our losses, nephew.” Saera corrected, sad to see him think so distantly of his own family, but then again how else could this boy think about people he never really had the chance to know? “I’m sure you would have had a better life if so many of us had not died or sent away. Your brother sure needed some wise words from Vaegon. Or maybe a whopping from your mother.”
“He sure does.” Daemon chuckled humorlessly, it was shameful to know that even across the Narrow Sea people was already aware of the weak and foolish king his brother was.
Still, unlike Viserys, Daemon was not ashamed of his brother, of having Viserys as his brother, for he knew anyone had the right to be whatever way they were, he was only ashamed that it was his brother tarnishing their family legacy instead of someone else Daemon could have the courage to kill with his own bare hands. He could not kill Viserys as he would have done to some other relative doing the same as his brother has been doing but Daemon could be better and be the one to ensure that one day House Targaryen was returned to its proper glory.
He and Rhaenyra and Baela. And perhaps Saera and her family too if they proved themselves worthy enough.
Unlike Viserys, Daemon was not willing to bring just about anyone into their family, to be so very welcoming to those underserving of even breathing the same air as the dragons. They were dragons, close to Gods than men, everyone else was just unimportant subjects there to bow to them and kneel at their feet.
Notes:
So what's your thoughts?!?!?!!? If you liked it please do leave kudos & comments, they're very much appreciated and an inspiration to my writer's creativity 🥹
This little idea of Saera joining the storyline was not in the cards to happen but it popped in my head not too long ago while I was doing some reading/researching of book canon and I was reminded that by this point in time Saera is literally just 39 years old 🫨
So I thought that it would be a really nice addition to the storyline! I particularly always liked her crazy ass character despite not entirely believing the vision the "historians/storytellers" (aka the maesters) have of her
and all of her siblings tbh
I mean they were literally teenagers& young people, ofc they would act and do what teenagers & young people do, especially when they were royals to boot 🤷🏾♀️ So yeah, i think the maesters descriptions about their personalities and events of things were just exaggerations, in very bad ways as it often is, plus courtiers are not trustworthy witnesses either!Anyways... I'll be doing my own thing regarding some aspects of her story/life, especially regarding her children who will be all original characters here. Her personality also might diverge from what canon tells she was supposedly like 🤭
And yes, I totally decided to make King Jae&Queen Aly children promiscuous little devils cause it sounds so ironic 😏 It was fun to come up w all these differences for their personalities and reasons behind some of their actions, tearing up both canon and Daemon's world!!!
Considering some of the things some of these kids did, I don't think they were as well supervised and looked after as it is expected for royal children to be, really wild they were able to so much without little to no one being the wiser until way too late 🤔Daemon might be far but he's always with babe Rhae and babe Baela on his mind, in his own emotionally constipated way that is hahahhaahhahha
No, I have not forgotten his mistress, she will be reappearing to shake things up very soon and not in a good way 🫣Next chapter we'll explore a bit more of this family reunion/getting to know each other bit, then we go back to Westeros for some wild shit that's about to go down 😉
Characters' ages by the time of this chapter:
Daemon - 24 (his bday hasn't passed yet)
Saera - 39
Daelius - 18
Shaena - 17
Skylar - 9
Belicho - 6If you're interested for some visuals of the story, here's the links:
The Targs of Essos: https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts/742344486289539072/saera-targaryens-family-princess-saera
How I more or less envisioned Saera's palace: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/saeras-manse/
Saera's dress: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626578002323332/ (but imagine it red)
Shaena's outfit stolen from dany hahahaha: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626578002323328/I'll see you in the next one ❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 21: Chapter Twenty: 106 AC Part V
Notes:
Heeellooooou lovely readers 😃
I'd a bout of inspiration, got this chapter ready and the next one too so yay 🎉🤭
And get ready cause next chapter is 🔥Thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos, some days they're my only source of light tbh 🥹
I'm so happy how much you guys liked my version of Saera, I assure you we'll be seeing plenty of her and her children!!My sense of time is worse at best so the story's timeline might feel a little wonky always, i'm sorry 😅 but anyways, this chapter happens around late February/early March. And Daemon's time in Essos is happening more or less consecutively w the events going on in Westeros
Year 106 AC will likely have quite a good number of parts, a lot to happen in it, so bear w me please ☺️
High Valyrian = bold-italics
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Daemon breathed in the humid air of the bath house, the fragrance of flowery oils and perfumes all around refreshing and cleaning, and he felt his body relaxed and soothed by the hot water.
Loud splashes of water and children’s shrieks pulled his attention back and Daemon opened his eyes, looking to the left side he found Daelius chasing after Skylar and Belicho, the three of them doing a ruckus in the other side of the huge wide pool; all three happily playing which brought a smile to his face.
How much fun and happiness would his girls have if they were here? How much happiness would he feel by having them here with him instead of leagues and leagues away?
A fortnight has passed since he arrived in Volantis and he had been quickly pulled into Saera’s and her children’s costume of an afternoon bath when the weather was its hottest. It was not entirely a surprise to find out his aunt and cousins had no sense of modesty, unashamedly bathing naked in front of him and anyone, with only the youngest ones wearing light smallclothes to cover their intimate parts.
“It cannot be easy for you being away from your daughter.” Saera commented observing the longing look in her nephew’s eyes. “I could not imagine spending longer that a few days away from mine children.”
“I have no other choices but to follow the king’s command.” Daemon replied looking over at his aunt sitting on a chaise by the edge of the pool, just a sheer dress covering her nudity.
“Wouldn’t an apology suffice to get back into your brother’s good graces?” She asked curiously.
Despite the easy in which Daemon acclimated to her and her family and how comfortable around them he was by now, her nephew remained tight-lipped about his own personal matters. A trait she admired but also found irritating when she did want to know whatever clearly bothered him and prompted Daemon to be the way he was.
“Viserys does not deserve an apology.” He retorted with a sneer. “No matter my ill-timed words, I should not be the one to apologize.”
“You simply said the true, if your brother could not handle to hear them he is truly a weak man.” Saera shrugged, her oldest nephew a great disappointment to the memory of Baelon and Alyssa. “Though I feel there is more to the story you are not telling me, nephew… Will you ever?”
“One day maybe.” Daemon answered honestly, he was not ready to divulge about what his brother had done for he still could not fully grasp that yet, struggling to come with terms with it.
Daemon looked again to where his cousins were still playing and he involuntarily chuckled, not at the three playing but at the fact Shaena was laying down on her stomach at the edge of the pool reading a book and unlike her mother she was completely naked and the sight did not affect Daemon in any way.
Returning his gaze to his aunt though proved entirely different, he could not deny the effect she had on him not only emotionally but also physically.
If her intense look was any indication the attraction was very much mutual but so far neither made no move to cross that line. Saera was a tease he found out and was happy to just play with her prey for now and he did not mind it at all, enjoyed all the teasing and lingering touches as well as the endless flirtation.
Perhaps his attraction was made more intense by the fact he now knew in great details how both his parents had despoiled her; or maybe it was just the fact she was a Targaryen princess he could never have, probably both. His aunt also stated in no uncertain words how curious she was to know if he had inherited her brother’s endowment and her sister’s talent with a tongue.
No wonder the Faith trembled in utter horror at the Valyrian ways, Daemon thought amused, their ways were truly wicked and beyond promiscuous.
“There is going to be festivities happening in the city in a couple of weeks, celebration for something or another... There will be plenty of parties hosted in my pleasure houses.” Saera said, breaking their intense stare and changing topic for a lighter one. “I thought Shaena and Daelius could take you to the city then, they can give you a tour of my houses and the pleasures my women and men have to offer.”
“That sounds lovely.” Daemon grinned at her, truthfully curious to know her establishments.
“Who knows, I might give you a personal taste of my pleasure first.” She winked and smile slyly earning a wider grin from her nephew, then she brought her cup of brandy for a sip before adding. “Daelius will be going to Volantis to oversee the business tomorrow, I’ll have him leave everything perfectly prepared for you.”
Before Daemon could reply anything, he caught sight of his young cousins approaching their side of the pool.
“Cousin Daemon.” Skylar was the one to start in common and in a shy voice, her accent lighter than the rest of her siblings. “Shaena mentioned you would let her see your dragon, can we go too?”
“Yes, please cousin Daemon! We’ve always wanted to see one!” Belicho said more excitedly, in High Valyrian since he did not spoke common very well.
“She said that, did she?” Daemon asked glancing over Shaena who threw him a fake innocent smile. “Well, I don’t know about her but I could make it work for you two... With one condition though.”
“What? What is it? We will do it!” The two explained almost jumping in excitement.
“Caraxes hasn’t eaten an elephant before, do you think you could get him one?” He asked.
“But elephants are sacred animals here, cousin Daemon!” Belicho exclaimed, face slightly falling. “They carry our noblest people and they are also war animals.”
“No, they’re not that sacred.” Skylar corrected her brother in a wise than most tone. “And there are the ones mean to only transport the people and then there are the ones exclusively bred for war.”
“No one asked you!” He retorted angrily and crossed his arms.
“Dragons are war animals too, sweeties, it would only be right Caraxes gets to eat something as fierce as a war elephant.” Saera commented to interject any possible fighting.
“Can we get one then, mother?” Belicho lighted up again very quickly.
“I can pay Malik a visit tomorrow and ask him.” Daelius was the one to answer, now standing close to Shaena, the two not subtle in their own eagerness and wish to see a dragon.
“How about a family outing to go see Caraxes then? His aunt suggested, seeming just as excited and expectant as her children about the subject. “Maybe he can give us a show chasing after an elephant… I do remember how much Aemon and Caraxes liked to do all these tricks up in the sky to show off to the smallfolk.”
“My boy does like to show off.” Daemon conceded with a small smile, remembering too how he would watch such presentations by his uncle.
Moreover by now he was convinced this family was worthy of the Targaryen blood in their vein and a better family to be a part of than his own across the sea. Except for his girls who were the only ones who were beyond worthy members of their house.
“Then it is settled.” Saera said sitting up and smiling widely at them, making her two young ones squeal and jump in celebration.
Daemon smiled, feeling lighter than he had in many moons, almost happy even for these days he has been experiment such a natural domesticity and a genuine family dynamic he did not remember ever experiencing before.
Daemon could only hope that one day he could build the same with his daughter and Rhaenyra, especially once his precious niece became old enough and he could make her his wife and have children of their own. Little princesses and princes for Baela to dote on and play with and love, the type of sibling relationship he rarely ever had from nor with Viserys.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra was once again in her muña’s rooms, after the first time she braved it now she could not get enough of the space that was once the haven of Queen Aemma; besides there was way more things to sort through than Rhaenyra even knew her muña had. Things as old as the gowns from when Aemma was but a child in the Vale.
A week went by since she started and Rhaenyra had foregone many of her duties to focus on this only, something the Lord Hand tried to admonish her about but was harshly chided instead by King Viserys. Her father looked about to cry when she told of her plans for muña’s possessions.
As Rhaenyra predicted all she needed to soften her father and make him bend to her will was to mention anything regarding the wife he butchered, whether because he had a guilty conscience or genuinely loved her as he claimed did not matter to Rhaenyra. All that mattered now was to get what she wanted and needed in however way she could.
And on the good side, being occupied with it was the perfect excuse for her not to be too much involved with the organization of the coming celebrations for the King’s nameday. He did not deserve to celebrate a nameday when her muña would never again have one.
Rhaenyra also used the excuse she had already started the organizations for Laenor’s nameday which was close enough from the King’s and could not focus on two events at the same time. The Lord Hand was almost unable to hide his smugness when she said that in a small council session but quick lost the small grin when she asked leave to call her Arryn relatives to court.
King Viserys was very uncomfortable with the idea and his Hand tried to caution against it but the rest of the council were more convincing in their logic it was better to keep the Arryns appeased in any way possible. They did not mention that was needed because of the King’s “need” to marry again so soon but Rhaenyra could read it in their faces well enough.
Since starting to sort through her muña’s things, Rhaenyra had employed the help of her two maids who were the ones to mention about Queen Aemma’s dresses from when she was still a young girl, and also Laena and Lucile would come sometimes to help her with it. And of course, little Baela were always there too, happy to throw things around and make everything into toys for her to play with.
One time Rhaenyra even called Princess Rhaenys so she could look over her cousin’s things to see if she wished for any reminder of her.
That was when their unspoken truce happened: Rhaenys suggested to Rhaenyra to call for her Arryn relatives to court for a more trustworthy source of support and to again try to talk with Viserys for him to allow Rhaenyra to have ladies-in-waiting. Then Rhaenyra offered to organize a celebration for Laenor’s nameday on a pleasure barge around Blackwater Bay.
In truth though Laena was the one doing most of the organizing for that seeing as she knew better about such matters involving sailing and boats and the like. Her cousin was so happy and excited while working on it, fluttering around every which way incessantly, and she confided in Rhaenyra she loved this sort of thing. That she always put High Tide crazy whenever her parents gave her free reign to organize any party.
Compared to all the many previous weeks, this week allowed Rhaenyra to have actual light and relaxing days instead of being exhausted all the time. She was very jittery and anxious though for the arrival of her Arryn family, even if it would be many weeks until then, anxious to know of aunt Amanda’s opinions of her as heir.
“My Princess.” Her knight called for her from the open door of the Queen’s bedchamber.
“Come in, Ser Criston.” Rhaenyra said turning her attention away from the pile of necklaces she was sorting through in her muña’s daybed by the big window. “What do you need?”
“Maester Barry just asked for this letter to be delivery to you.” Ser Criston answered walking into the room and then stopping close enough to hand her said letter. “It has the Arryn seal so he thought you would like to receive it first.”
“He was right.” She affirmed picking up the letter with a smile. “Me and my cousin Jeyne have been exchanging letters so she is probably writing to me and not the King.”
“Then next time I see the maester I’ll make sure he delivers Lady Arryn’s letters directly to you only, My Princess.” Her knight said making her give him an appreciative smile.
“That will be most kind of you, my good ser.”
No one in the room noticed Laena squinting her eyes in suspicion at the Kingsguard and feeling her heart fill with dread. For days now she had noticed how too close and comfortable the knight was around her cousin, the princess he was supposed to only serve and protect not act as a best friend. Laena knew well enough that behaviour coming from men his age never meant anything good for young girls like them.
“Oh.” Rhaenyra startled voice distracted Laena from going further down that train of thought.
“What is it, Princess?” Annora, Rhaenyra’s older maid asked, while folding a few dresses. “Did something change with the situation with your older aunt and her son?”
“No, thank the Fourteen.” Rhaenyra said still reading over the letter. “My cousin says she could not give my last letter to aunt Amanda.” She finally looked up at them, a little frown marring her elegant eyebrows. “Our aunt is already on her way here, she and her children must be arriving very soon, according to Jeyne.”
“Well, if it was any of my siblings and their only daughter I’ll be hurrying to get here too, Princess.” Lucile Strong said solemnly.
“Yes. As annoying as Laenor is, I would be doing the same.” Laena agreed.
“Family was always very important to the Arryns, Princess Rhaenyra.” Her other and younger maid, Nayele, commented shyly. “Or so Queen Aemma used to say about how her father raised them to think that way.”
“Clearly his lesson did not get through all of them.” Rhaenyra scowled remembering how awful her older aunt and her son were. How they were to blame for aunt Amanda not being here when her muña needed protecting the most.
“Lady Amanda should still have sent word so the keep could be prepared for her arrival.” Anora commented and then frowned. “There has been quite a case of misplaced letters lately, maybe hers was one of them?”
“Is there? Really?” Almost all of them asked in unison.
Rhaenyra had no idea such thing was happening and was now worried she might be losing important letters, even if she communicated with a very small number of people; maybe that was the reason she received so little words from Uncle Daemon.
“I heard the Grandmaester admonishing two acolytes about it some days ago, My Princess.” Ser Criston piped in, not leaving since his princess had not ordered so. “He commented about asking the king for more maesters and less apprentices.”
“Hm.” Rhaenyra hummed not trusting the old slimy Grandmaester to call for maesters anymore competent than acolytes in training. “Either way, Ser Criston, go see where my father is and inform him I will go talk to him shortly.”
“Of course, My Princess.” Her knight bowed to her. “I’ll leave two guards outside if you need anything and will return to accompany you.”
“Thank you, my good knight.” She smiled again at him making Laena even more uncomfortable with her cousin’s lack of awareness.
“Will you inform the King of Lady Amanda’s earlier arrival, Princess?” Lucile asked curiously.
“Yes, we need to prepare as fast as possible before she arrives.” Rhaenyra answered standing up and going to muña’s bed where Baela was sat at while chewing on a dress for whatever reason babies like to do that. “You are leaving your slobber in everything, little one.”
Only Laena understood the switch to High Valyrian and chuckled at the comment, the Prince’s daughter has indeed leaving a trail of spit in many of the dresses.
“My maid will be taking you to the Beesbury’s so you can have your lunch now. I’ll come get you later.” She explained to Baela after taking the linen from her mouth, then leaned to give her little cousin a kiss on the forehead. “Nayele, it is Baela’s time to eat, can you take her to the Beesbury’s apartments, please?”
“Of course, my princess.” The maid agreed promptly, then left her folding of clothes behind to go pick the little terror of a babe. Prince Daemon’s daughter could be as much of a handful as her father but she was too cute for any of them to actually dislike the little girl and her chaos.
“We will stop for today, yes?” Rhaenyra addressed the other girls after watching her maid leave cooing at a babbling Baela, then gave a smile of gratitude to them. “I thank you for the help and company you all have been these past days… But since aunt Amanda will be here soon, she might want some privacy while doing this with me.”
“We understand, Princess.” They said with a smile of their own.
“It will be more time to finish Laenor’s celebrations last details.” Laena commented with an excited smile, her worried forgotten for the moment.
“Good, good. How about we have dinner tonight and you can tell us all what you have been planning?” Rhaenyra suggested and before any of her friends could refuse the invitation she looked at Annora adding “Could you go to the kitchens later and ask the cooks to prepare our favourites, please?”
“Of course, Princess Rhaenyra.” She agreed then looked at the other girls. “Just tell me what you like first and I’ll make sure they cook the best of diners.”
“Wonderful!” She exclaimed and luckily the others reacted just as enthused. “You should invite Princess Rhaenys and Lady Strong too.”
More and more Rhaenyra would find any possible excuse to avoid dining with her father, entering his chambers only reminded her how he has been defiling the bed he once shared with her muña. She avoided Lady Alicent presence just as much not wanting to blurt out she knew what they have been up to late at night. It would not do to have her knowledge of the secret tunnels known.
Besides, no matter the anger Rhaenyra felt she did not truly want to tarnish Lady Alicent’s reputation when whoring herself to the King would be the highest accomplishment the older girl would achieve in court. Rhaenyra also did not wish to make the situation even worse for Laena if she ended up marrying the king as it seemed it would happen, if the king’s invitation for tea in the garden’s the other day was any indication.
Fortunately, this time it was not a private affair between only her cousin and father, if Princess Rhaenys assumption was correct Viserys did not want to alert the court and make them gossip about a courtship happening just yet. And so her father made it more of a family affair though he did pay particular interest in asking Laena all sorts of questions.
While her father was oblivious as he often was and Lord Corlys was preening proudly, Rhaenyra and Laena were beyond uncomfortable while Princess Rhaenys almost fumed in anger the whole time. Half way through Rhaenyra really thought the older princess would jump on her husband or maybe called Meleys to roast him.
Rhaenyra would not have minded if she did that to both men. Awful fathers did not deserve anything less.
--
Unsurprisingly, King Viserys was spending the afternoon holed up in his rooms doodling with his Valyrian model, Rhaenyra learned that was something he loved to do after council meetings or petition hearings. That morning there was a petition hearing, a lengthy and tiring one since it had been a while since the last time the king opened his doors for the people to present their issues to him.
Rhaenyra attended it in hopes she could learn something from the experience but also to allow the people to see her right there in the Iron Throne, just a mere step below the king. She did not learn much beyond the fact many of their people lived beyond dire situations and how both King and Hand seemed to only offer appeasing words but not real solutions to the problems.
Now finding her father uncaringly distracted and relaxed playing with his model instead of being a proactive king, it made sense to Rhaenyra how come the city was facing a slow decline.
“Rhaenyra, my girl.” Her father greeted her with a big smile, setting aside his tools and standing up. “So good you came to me. I was going to tell you the news tonight at dinner but since you also need to talk with me, might as well tell you right now.”
“Tell me what news?” She asked warily, already fearing whatever that could be.
“Come, come, dear, let’s have a sit.” He answered instead gesturing to the two armchairs close to the model, Rhaenyra complying for lack of options but she would rather tell her news quickly and leave just as quickly. “How your afternoon has been going through Aemma’s things?”
“Fine.” She answered curtly, not wishing to delay their talk. “My cousin Jeyne has sent word.”
“Oh?”
“She said that aunt Amanda has already been traveling to the Capital before my invitation arrived in the Vale.” Rhaenyra explained. “It seems her own letter about it might have been misplaced as it has been happening lately.”
“Likely, yes.” Viserys grumbled displeased. “Grandmaester Mellos was greatly disappointed with his acolytes’ lack of attention but soon the matter will be rectified.”
“Hm.” She hummed not surprised her father was following the maester’s advice to summon more maesters to court. “Jeyne said our aunt will arrive very soon so I wanted your leave to get everything ready for her and her children as fast as possible.”
“Of course, of course! We would not want to give the bad impression of being unprepared or unwelcome for a family member.” Her father agreed making Rhaenyra bit her cheek.
Aunt Amanda and her children were her family, not his, she thought indignant.
“It’s actually a good thing Lady Amanda will not take so long to arrive then.” Viserys commented trying not to appear too uncomfortable. “We can make use of her retinue of Valemen, I’m sure Lady Rhea would appreciate that more than the Crown’s servants.”
“What do you mean?” Rhaenyra tensed instantly, dreading whatever it was her father was implying with those words.
“Well, that is what I needed to talk with you about.” He answered, dreading the tantrum his daughter was sure to throw over the news. “With Daemon away and Aemma…” The king’s voice failed and he had to look away not to see the hurt that flashed in Rhaenyra’s eyes whenever her mother’s name was mentioned, clearing his throat he continued. “Lady Rhea’s insistent letters have been flooding our aviary for weeks now. She hopes that with Daemon away she can finally have her daughter back which she is in her right to demand.”
“What?” Rhaenyra whispered feeling faint all of a sudden. ‘No, no, no, no.’
“Baela has spent way too long away from her own mother, Rhaenyra, it’s time for the little one to spend some time in Runestone…” Viserys continued oblivious to his daughter distress.
“No it is not!” Rhaenyra shot up from the chair, almost screaming the words, now very much alert and furious. “Baela is my cousin! She stays with me!”
“Rhaenyra…” Viserys sighed in resignation. “Baela needs to acclimate herself with Runestone and the Vale. Lady Rhea will want her daughter to be her heir if your uncle does not return to provide her with a boy.”
“It always about a boy with you, isn’t it?” She sneered at him, balling her first. “A boy is always more important and worthy in your eyes, isn’t’ it, father? A boy it’s always the reason you keep destroying my life!”
“Rhaenyra, there is no need for this.” He retorted more serious, giving her a warning look. “Having a boy as heir it is only how things are done…”
“Is that why you are in a hurry to marry again? To have your precious boy to replace me?” She interrupted him again, unbridled fury shining in amethyst eyes.
“We have talked about this, my dear. You will not be replaced, as king I can change rules if I see fit. I want you as my heir and you will remain so.” Viserys said in a soft manner, as if explaining it to a four year old, understanding of Rhaenyra’s still narrowed vision.
“Then why marry again at all? Why put muña through all that suffering in the first place if you could have made me heir all along?” Rhaenyra asked, any hesitation and fear gone from her mind.
“Mind your words, child…” Her father attempted to say but she swiftly interrupted him again.
“No, I will not!” She exclaimed, not caring if she sounded like the child she was. “You butchered my mother for nothing! You will marry again to put me in danger and now you will send away the only person I have left in this place!”
Viserys face drained of all color at her words, his hands tightly gripping the arms of his chair, and his mind went blank.
“Wh –wh… How… Rhaenyra, how?”
“It is true then. You ordered my mother to be killed.” Rhaenyra felt tears sting her eyes, the small hope she still harbored that that was not true shattering as much as her soul.
“Rhaenyra…” Viserys was at a loss of words, how could he possibly explain the hard choice he had to make without further hurting his precious daughter? So he chose to divert the topic instead. His Hand had assured him the matter was taken care of and no one would know of what happened that day. “Who told you this? Tell me, where have you heard this?”
“Doesn’t matter, father.” She sneered again, fighting the tears to stay at bay. “First you kill my mother, then you decide to endanger me by marrying again and now you will take the only person I have left in this place.”
“Don’t be absurd, Rhaenyra.” Viserys shook his head before standing up as well. “You have me, my girl, you will always have me. And no danger will ever come to you.”
“If you think your next wife and her children and her family will not try everything to supplant me to get their blood in the throne, you’re an idiot, father.” Rhaenyra huffed in annoyance at his wilful blindness in seeing something even a child as young as her had come to understand. But as soon as a flash of anger passed over his violet eyes, she slumped her shoulders and let the pain show in her face. “Why are you so cruel, father? You take everyone I love from me! You kill my mother, you send my uncle away and now you will send away Baela too. Do you hate me so, father?”
“Rhaenyra, what…? Of course I do not hate you.” Viserys said in distress over his daughter thinking such thing. He tried to approach her but Rhaenyra backed away, making his heart hurt even more. “You are my daughter. My only child. I love you more than anything.”
“If you loved me, father, you would not have destroyed everything for the sake of a son the Gods do not mean to give you.” She said with finality, jutting her chin up in defiance but did not give the king time to reply anything else.
Rhaenyra turned on her heel and exited the chambers quickly, walking towards her chambers in a hurry; she was unable to hold the tears at bay for much longer, her eyes were stinging more intensely and her vision starting to blur. She would not allow anyone to see her cry, she could not allow them to see her pain and weakness.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Arriving in King’s Landing was a dissatisfying and underwhelming affair as it ever was, Amanda Arryn mused with a scrunched nose at the smell of the city, and this time coming there was made more grimmer by the fact that the reality her sister was gone was about to become an indisputable fact. The exhaustion of weeks on the road were all but forgotten the closer her carriage got from the Red Keep and her nerves got the best of her.
She tried to distract herself by observing her children excitedly pointing out things through the small window to their older brother who had come with them this time around; though Adrian did not share their enthusiasm he was better at concealing that than she was. Her older boy was well aware of the distressed mood she found herself in since King’s Landing walls were sighted hours ago.
Even if Adrian was the security she felt whenever she had to leave Jeyne, Rhaenyra was in a more precarious situation than Jeyne; in the Eyrie it’s lady held the power and trustworthy allies necessary while here Amanda was sure her youngest niece was greatly deprived of. So she asked her lord husband leave to bring Adrian, after all he at age to finish his squiring and gain his knighthood.
If passing through the city was so dissatisfying, their arrival at the Red Keep was utterly disappointing. Climbing out the wheelhouse, Amanda and her children were met only by three councilmembers and Princess Rhaenys, alongside just half a dozen servants and guards. No sight of the king nor the princess. Amanda would have felt insulted if her mind did not right away jumped to bad scenarios as to why Rhaenyra had not come to greet her.
“Lady Redfort, welcome to King’s Landing. It is a pleasure to have you back in court with us.” The slimy Otto Hightower greeted her with a false smile and even more false words of pleasantries. No wonder her sister was wary of the man, he gave off nothing but an aura of malice.
“Thank you, Ser Otto.” She replied for politeness sake, relaxing just the slightest bit when she felt her son stop close by her right side while her younger ones stayed a step behind them. “Though the lack of more proper welcome is a surprise.”
“We apologize for it, my lady.” One of the other two councilmen said, by how ancient the lord was she could assume this was Lord Beesby or something, in a more genuine way. “We were only made aware of you arrival but days ago.”
“Oh? I sent a letter well ahead of time before leaving the Eyrie.” Amanda said arching a questioning eyebrow.
“There has been a serious case of misplaced and lost letters as of late.” Princess Rhaenys was the one to explain with a tone of judgment, stepping pass the men of the council. “Your letter must have met the same fate.”
“How odd of a situation to happen, Princess Rhaenys.” She commented.
“An issue that has been dealt with swiftly, Lady Redfort.” Otto interjected, he certainly did not wish to dwell on that matter, it was troublesome enough to finally have the attention of that ‘problem” be directed elsewhere for it to return too soon.
Especially with Amanda Arryn there. Unlike her feeble and lacking sister, the older Arryn was quite the conniving woman if the rumors were true, her weak husband unable to rein in his own wife. They would need to be careful while she was in the capital, a stay that would hopefully be just a short lived as the last one if he had anything to say about it.
He has enough problems as it is with Princess Rhaenys and her Velaryon brood sniffing around constantly.
“I know how tired you all must be of your travels but the King is eagerly waiting for you in…” The Hand started but Amanda quickly interrupted him, patience long gone at this point.
“King Viserys can wait.” She said harshly, untroubled by that low gasps and wide eyes that her words prompted, the princess the only one to slightly grin. “I wish to see my niece.”
“I understand your desire for that, my Lady, but the King has some important matter to discuss with you.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not more important than my niece so it will also have to wait ‘till I have seen Rhaenyra.” She insisted, lips in a thin line to avoid saying what she truly wished to.
“Princess Rhaenyra has been indisposed these last couple days, my lady.” Otto said just as stubbornly, struggling to keep a neutral expression over such rudeness and impropriety.
“Perhaps a visit from her aunt will do the little princess some good.” Lord Beesbury interjected, hopeful that would be the case.
“Excellent idea!” Rhaenys put a hand on Amanda’s arm before there were any more arguments against it. “I’ll take you to Princess Rhaenyra… Though it might be better for your children to go get settled down.”
“Aye, of course, that will be great.” Amanda said curtly, lips in a thin line to avoid expressing too much in front of these people and mind whirling with worry for her niece. “See to my people and our things, Lord Hand.”
It was not lost on either woman the way the man’s jaw clenched and his right eye twitched before they passed by him without another word. If this man thought he would order her around as people whispered he did the king and his court, he was dearly mistaken, Amanda thought to herself.
She followed the princess through the corridors of the keep with her chin raised high, trying to keep on a blank expression while some people were not subtle in their looks and whispers about the poor late Queen’s family. These foolish people should know better than to see her sister as a weak poor thing, for a truly weak woman would have succumbed many years earlier than enduring all that Aemma did but instead her sister faced it all strongly until the very end.
“Good afternoon, Ser Criston.” Rhaenys greeted the white clocked knight standing in front of her niece’s apartment doors.
“Good afternoon, Princess Rhaenys.” The knight greeted her before turning his dark eyes to the other woman. “My Lady.”
“Lady Amanda has just arrived and is eager to see Princess Rhaenyra.”
“Princess Rhaenyra has asked not to be disturbed, my ladies.” Ser Criston said standing up straighter. “She is still feeling unwell to have visits.”
“I am sure she will make an exception for her aunt.” Amanda retorted glaring at the knight.
“Why don’t you go ask her, Ser Criston?” Rhaenys suggested, not pleased by his behavior either.
Ser Criston hesitated for a minute but gave a slight bow in agreement in the end, he did not wish to cause further distress to his princess in case this visit from family would cheer her up again. He deeply hoped so for he hated to see the little princess in such state.
Amanda tapped her foot impatiently while waiting for the knight to return, she had never been a patient child and that remained so through her adulthood, only Princess Rhaenys hand still resting on her forearm kept her from simply bursting in the chamber. A couple minutes later, the knight returned not fully closing one of the doors.
“Princess Rhaenyra will see you, my Lady.” Ser Criston said, already relieved by the small flash of happiness that passed over his princess eyes when she heard her aunt was outside. “Though she apologizes for wishing to see only you for now. Her cousin is asleep right now and she does not want to disturb her.”
“She is with Baela while feeling unwell?” Amanda questioned looking at both of them harshly.
“Rhaenys has refused to part from her cousin these last few days.” Rhaenys grimaced with an apologetic smile. “Or leave her chambers at all, I’m afraid.”
Amanda did not wait a second more before finally pushing her way past the kingsguard to hurriedly enter her niece’s rooms.
“Rhaenyra?” She called into the deathly quiet space.
“In here.” Came the low and soft voice of her niece from the next room.
Amanda opened the doors to the bedchamber and right away saw Rhaenyra standing in the middle of the room, swaying a little on her feet and fiddling with her rings. When her niece looked up, her light violet eyes were wide and slightly red, her expression sad and hurt.
The sight took Amanda’s breath away and she froze on the spot, it was like she was looking all over again at little Aemma on her last morning in the Eyrie all those years ago, the day they said goodbye before Aemma was stolen away from their nest. Before she could ask what had happened or what was wrong, Rhaenyra ran the small distance and all but threw herself into Amanda, little arms circling her aunt’s waist hard and she hid her face in Amanda’s belly, sobs soon followed.
Rhaenyra had tried her best to be as strong as she possibly could in the face of everything, for the sake of her Baela who was as distressed as she was and back to almost constantly crying. She only let herself also cry when her little cousin would fall in a fitful sleep, and only a silent and restrained cry not to wake Baela after the struggle it was to get her to sleep.
They have been staying inside Rhaenyra chambers for days now, never leaving for anything and having everything brought to them instead. Maybe if she kept them locked in, then Baela would not be taken away from her, it was a naive logic; deep down she knew it was for naught. Now seeing her aunt again, the sister her muña loved so much, Rhaenyra could not restrain herself anymore.
She cried all over again for everything bad and painful that happened since the day her muña died. Uncle Daemon had been there then, hugging her and drying her tears and singing her to sleep in the first few days after but then he was gone too, leaving Rhaenyra to handle everything without anyone to lean on. And she has spent too long dealing with it all, all alone.
Rhaenyra was so exhausted, drained really. All she wanted was someone to be there for and with her now she had no mother to do it, someone to protect and love her as a mother would, someone who could allow her to just be a child again sometimes. Would aunt Amanda be that person or Rhaenyra was bound to have another disappointment? Whatever the answer, at least for that moment she could just cry and break and hurt like the child she was after so many moons taking too much all at once.
--
Amanda stomped her way towards the king’s apartments, her blue eyes glowing with such intense fury that everyone who passed by her stepped aside or back to put distance from the clearly enraged lady.
She could not say how long she stayed sat on the floor with Rhaenyra curled on her lap, crying her heart out, until her niece calmed down enough to let Amanda take her to lay on the bed. Her young niece curled herself around a wide awake Baela, the babe’s little face scrunching as if about to cry too but blessedly relaxed as soon as Rhaenyra held her, and Amanda sat beside them. The Princess’ eyes still shedding silent tears.
Caressing up and down her niece’s back, Amanda started singing an old lullaby commonly sang in the Vale in a low voice and it took another while until Rhaenyra fully calmed down, finally able to whisper some words about why she was like that. None of it made much sense to Amanda, but those “father ruins everything”, “he takes everything from me”, “he doesn’t love us he never did” sentences were enough for her to ascertain who was the culprit behind Rhaenyra’s tears.
If Viserys Targaryen thought he could hurt another Arryn girl with no consequences again he was about to find out how very wrong he was. So as soon as both girls fell asleep, Amanda stood up and left the chambers with a single-mined focus to find the king.
It made no difference for Amanda whether he was a king or a peasant, he would hear some well-chosen words either way. She felt guilty enough for not doing more to protect nor save her sister, her neglect just as much to blame as the king’s selfishness for Aemma’s ultimately death, Amanda would not commit the same mistake again.
King Viserys would regret every single pain he ever inflicted upon her sister and niece, Amanda would make sure of that even if it was the last thing she did.
“I need to speak with your king.” She said curtly when she stopped in front of the two Kingsguard stationed in front of the king’s study.
“Lady Amanda.” Ser Harrold greeted her, looking at her rumpled gown and wet bodice with confusion. “The King is in a meeting with the Lord Hand at the moment.”
“Ser.” Amanda sighed heavily, trying her best not to lose composure. “I just spent weeks on the road, I’m beyond exhausted… And when I finally got here it was just to find my niece devastated in her rooms for some reason. Trust me, you do not wish to stand in my way right now.”
Ser Harold tensed instantly, swallowing drily, not in fear of the angered woman before him but for the reminder of the Princess recent state. After eight years being her sworn shield and watching her grow up, it had been inevitable not to grow protective and fond of Princess Rhaenyra. Every passing moon of her life saw Harold growing to see her as the granddaughter he would never have, so to know of the little princess predicament pained him much more than his duty gave him any right to.
Sparing just a glance over at his sworn brother, Ser Willis glaring critically at the late Queen’s sister, Harold opened the door and stepped inside.
The Lord Commander just had the time to hurriedly apologize for the interruption and announce the Lady Amanda’s name before she barged in the room in a flurry of Arryn blue silks.
“Amanda, my good-sister.” Was all the greeting Viserys had time to say before Amanda focused her eyes in the Hand.
“Excuse us, Ser Otto, the King and I have some important matters to discuss.” Amanda all but ordered in an imperious tone of voice, mockingly repeating what he said earlier, eyes daring him to contradict her.
“Sure, sure!” Viserys exclaimed, glad to get over the things they ought to talk about and solve. “I’ll see you later, Otto.”
“Of course. Your Grace.” Otto said and gave a slight bow of the head before turning his cold eyes to the Arryn woman. “Lady Amanda.”
Amanda watched the Hightower leave the room, the Kingsguard accompany him out, until the door was closed giving them privacy.
“Care to explain why I arrived here to find my niece locking herself in her own rooms?” She asked straight to the point, finally facing her sister’s husband and right away noticed how older than his years he looked, but she had no time to dwell on that so she continued saying “Eyes swollen and red from crying, refusing to let her cousin, a babe barely one year old, out either?”
“Oh.” Viserys looked down, unsure how to best explain the current situation just as much as he has been unsure how to fix it. “Rhaenyra has been a tad too emotional lately, that’s all... I’m afraid all the duties of an heir has been a bit pressuring on her, to my regret as a father.”
“Really? That is all?” Amanda asks looking at him skeptically, his demeanor telling all she needed to know. “Because from what she told me, you are the cause… Taking everything she loves away, ruining her life was her exact words. Care to explain whatever did she mean by that?”
“My daughter is prone to childish tantrums and dramatics.” He said, facial expression hardening instantly and not liking at all the tone his wife’s sister used nor the implication behind her words. “She will soon tire of this latest tantrum.”
“It did not seem just some dramatic tantrum to me.”
“Well, good-sister, you have not spend too long around Rhaenyra.” Viserys retorted, crossing his hands behind his back. “So trust me, I know my own daughter well enough.”
“Well, good-brother, I do not believe you truly new nor tried to truly know either my sister or my niece as you ought to.” Amanda shot back, fighting a look of disdain to show on her face.
“I beg your pardon?” Viserys’ eyes widened in shock, not understanding whatever this nonsense was coming from. And how dare she accuse him of such thing? He thought balling his fists in anger.
“For years you forced Aemma to live a never ending life of suffering, Viserys.” She stated matter of factly, unbelieving how good this ‘king’ was of playing a game of being a blind fool. His act did not fool Amanda at all. “You are mistaken if you think you will do the same to my niece.”
“Careful now, Lady Amanda, I’m still your King.” Viserys said through greeted teeth, tone of warning and violet eyes aflame with anger at her baseless accusations. “Be mindful of how you speak with me.”
“You may be king but you’re still just another man, Your Grace.” Amanda retorted, this time letting her disdain show for she was entirely unafraid of the pitiful sight the man before her made. “Be mindful of your actions, King Viserys… Your brother and daughter are the ones with dragons, not you.”
Notes:
And the Arryns are back!!
So, what's your thoughts about this chapter?!?!?! If you liked it leave kudos and comments to let me know 🥹
Auntie Amanda did not come to play alright! Lady is on a mission and will trample anyone on her way to protect her niece 😏 (she should have had this fire while aemma was still alive but oh well better later than never)
It is so fun to write/create ideas for characters we know little to nothing about from canon!!
Oh, btw, her son Adrian Redfort is the same (technically) Adrian who became a Queensguard to Rhaenyra in canon, forgot to mention about it before if anyone did not caught on that yet 🤭Daemon actually getting to know what a 'normal' family dynamic is like 🥹 despite is mistakes and flaws, poor boy deserves a taste of that before going to a years long war
Don't hate me too much w this little hint at a Daemon/Saera, I could not fight the temptation okay 🫣
Caraxes 🤝 Cersei wishing for those elephants hahahahahahaAny guesses as to why there's this sudden case of "lost" letters? 🤔 Otto and the grandmaester trying their best to make this happen but not all maesters are in their pockets (team maester barry anyone?)
Like I mentioned on previous chapters, Rhea was not forgotten!! And of course only w Daemon away would she have any chances at successfully demanding Baela back to Runestone, girlfriend really pressing her luck 🤡
This will not go over well for anyone honestly, starting w poor babe Rhaenyra 💔 and next chapter for some other people!
As painful as it is, I do need Baela to go to Runestone to get in touch w her first men/old gods side, as well as for some other little things 🫣If you're interested for some visuals of the story, here's the links:
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/Don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you liked it!!!
Till next chapter ❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 22: Chapter Twenty One: 106 AC Part VI - Hatching
Notes:
Heeelloou readers 🥰
Here's a new update and a very messy chapter at that 😅 Yk just me and my inability to properly manage all the hundred things that need to happen before the first (and probably only, we shall see) time jump of the story 😵
I'm really trying to make year 106AC just 10 parts which is already too much but I don't want to extend more than that. So yeah these next chapters might be a bit wonky, I apologize beforehand!!!
And I suck with timelines but this chapter happens in a period between mid-February to early-March. Will get into more details in the end notes as not to give spoilers
Anyways...
There's a bit of "action" by the end of the chapter, mentions of deaths/murder/attempt murder. And a bit of animal cruelty, or the implying of it, at the beginning of the chapter. It's all very light but might still be a bother for some people so here's your warning just in case 😚
And another warning there's once again the implying/description of Daemon w someone else so if that's a bother to you, skip some lines of this chapter 😅I'll pose some questions for you guys in the end notes, important ones for the story because I like to know your preferences to some ideas so read at least that and give an answer if you feel like it okay 🥰
And don't be too harsh on my attempt of a POV dragon, it is really hard!!!
Hugh Valyrian = bold-italic
Belated happy woman's day ❣️
Now have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon’s body thrummed with adrenaline, blood running scorching hot through his veins, when Caraxes landed on the ground with a loud thud; the line of their bond thinner than ever inside their minds and they were feeling closer to one than simply two separate souls. It was always like this whenever Caraxes allowed and Daemon dared to be astride the dragon’s back when he hunted, the same way it felt when they entered the fray of a battle.
Good to their word, Daemon’s cousins did arrange not only one but two elephants for Caraxes to have a taste; feeling too restless after days just lazing around with them, Daemon decided to partake on his boy’s hunting that morning. He had been so excited he even forgot to saddle Caraxes beforehand. Once the adrenaline was gone his thighs would be screaming bloody murder.
Daemon never truly enjoy hunt sports like Viserys and so many noblemen do, there was no thrill in their easy and frivolous hunting. But to hunt on dragon back was an entirely different experience and that was to his liking, so much so that whenever he did it, it was hard to tell himself apart from Caraxes. However, the hunt to feed themselves was when a dragon was most deep in its natural instincts and thereof did not appreciate a rider hindering them, they could pose a danger even to their own riders.
Caraxes and Daemon's connection was strong enough though that sometimes his boy would be in a good enough mood to allow and even appreciate hunting alongside his rider.
“That was fun, boy.” Daemon whispered to Caraxes after climbing down and going to caress his head. “You probably won’t be needing to eat till tomorrow again, huh?” through their bond he could feel his boy already starting to feel fatigued from the fullness of the meal. “Go have a nap.”
Daemon watched his boy get up in the air slower than usual, a fond smile on his face, before he turned to the overjoyed spectators waiting for him. His two young cousins were literally jumping on their feet and talking over each other about the little show, while his older cousins looked wide eyed in awe. Saera also had a look of wonder in her blue eyes but also a glint of sadness, of longing.
“I see all of you liked the show?” Daemon commented with a proud smirk.
Belicho and Skylar exclaimed a dozen praises and observations that was hard to even understand with them talking at the same time, but as was usually the case they soon delved into a fight between themselves.
“It was marvelous but scary too.” Daelius replied more succinctly. “Have you feared falling?”
“Unless a dragon its shot out of the sky, a rider it’s unlikely to ever fall from their mount.” He answered with a shrug, even without a saddle Daemon never feared slipping and falling from Caraxes’ back.
“Like the Queen Rhaenys was.” Skylar commented in her usual wise tone of voice.
“Sadly, my love.” Saera affirmed, caressing her daughter dark curls. “Maybe if the Conquerors beloved sister had not died, our House might have not fall sideways.”
“Why do you think that, mother?” She asked just as curious as she was intelligent.
“A conversation for another time.” Saera answered instead. “Let’s head back before the sun gets too hot.”
The group walked back to the manse, Saera, Daelius and the two younger ones walking ahead while Daemon fell into step beside an unusual quiet Shaena. In the weeks living with them, he found out Shaena was overtly talkative by nature, most of the time unfiltered when voicing her thoughts.
“Aren’t you unnaturally quiet this morning, cousin?”
“Someone needs to not let your ego go too much to your head, cousin.” Shaena retorted with a small smirk . “Besides, I already saw what your dragon can do. I’m more interesting in experiencing it myself.”
Daemon chuckled, unsurprising by her bold suggestion just as the first day they met but he did not answer anything this time. He was hesitant in inviting either of them to ride with him on Caraxes since that family experience was something he only ever did with his niece and daughter, it felt as if it may be a betrayal to them.
Though he had many times by now taken his little bird too, she was not family but just a means to an end so it did not felt like that. With Saera and her children was a different story.
On the atrium of the manse, Daelius turned to him
“Fancy a little spar, cousin?” He asked eagerly. “I imagine after all that you could use some exercise to let out the adrenaline.”
“Daemon will go take a bath to take off the smell of dragon.” Saera said before Daemon could agree to his cousin suggestion, in a very motherly tone. “You will be taking your siblings to their sum lesson. And Shaena will be overseeing the business latest paperwork.”
Her children groaned at that but were quickly to comply and when Daemon did not she shot him a look. The kind of look he imagined a mother would give a misbehaving child, critically but also fondly; the kind he never received.
“Oh, am I supposed to follow your orders, mother?” He asked sarcastically to hide the hurt that simple act caused him.
“Yes, you are.” Saera answered seriously then waved in the direction of the bath house. “Of you go, nephew… To my private bath, I’ll join you in a minute.”
“Well, in that case…” Daemon said flashing her a smirk before walking towards the bath house. He did need a good soak in hot water for his already soring muscles.
--
Daemon was almost dozing off when Saera finally joined him, the water already cooling but way too good for him to get out just yet.
“I assume your thighs must be in a pour state after riding like that without a saddle.” She commented while taking off her robe, getting entirely naked before entering the pool.
“You assume right.” Daemon said, lazily turning his head to the side to better look at her.
“I do remember how Alyssa got whenever she rode without a saddle.” Saera said with a cheeky smile, sitting beside him. “‘Because Baelon’s tender tongue will cure my ailment’, I think was her exact words when one of us questioned why she kept doing it.”
“Ugh, not an image I want of my parents.” He grimaced making her laugh.
“Trust me, you would have grown up knowing every single detail of their bed by her own mouth had she lived.”
Daemon smiled despite not really wishing to know about his parents’ sex life, having his mother alive traumatizing him with such talks would have been preferable than to grow up without her at all.
“Alyssa always had strong opinions and was unafraid to voice whatever thought crossed her mind.” Saera added, it was always so easy to fall into a well of memories whenever talking with Daemon about her siblings. “Though unlike me she did know when to have some restraint. Probably why father liked her better out of all his daughters.”
“He did?” Daemon asked in surprise.
“Mhmhm.” She affirmed, laying her head on his shoulder and resting one hand on his chest. “Still, she fought quite a lot with father and mother, especially mother. And all of us too of course. But the only time Baelon and her ever really fought was when Alyssa said father focused so much on his reign rather than his children out of a guilty conscience, to compensate for taking the crown that should have belonged to aunt Rhaena or Aerea.” She said drawing patterns on his skin, one of her legs a nice weight on top of his. “Baelon disagreed and she never liked when he disagreed with her, his own fault really for always spoiling her too much.”
Daemon did not know what to think of his mother’s opinion, never having stopped too long to think of events long past and done with, things that he once thought would never affect him in any way. Now it would since Rhaenyra would defy the order of the realm and be the first true female heir set to become Queen.
However it was hard to think about any of that at the moment, his aunt a distraction his body could not shake off and soon he felt himself harden when her leg brushed on his member.
“Want me to kiss you better too, nephew?” Saera asked suggestively, leaning her head back to look up at him, her breath caught on her throat with the startling likeness Daemon was to her brother.
“I wouldn’t refuse if you offered, aunt.” He answered only feeling more aroused with the way she was looking at him.
Perhaps it was not healthy to feel attracted and want Daemon just because of how much he reminded Saera of her brother and sister. It was even less fair to him, to either of them.
But Saera had never cared to be fair and she had always had a twisted mind. As long as both were willing there was no harm in pursuing a little bit of a mindless passion. That was exactly how she ended casted away all those years ago after all and Saera held no regrets about it. Why should she restrain herself from taking her nephew as a lover? Daemon was family, it was in their nature to desire their own flesh and blood.
--
It was hours later they found themselves back on the same balcony Saera first took Daemon to in his first day there, both thoroughly sated after two rounds of fucking each other senseless, and now they were enjoying some pear brandy to pass the time while Saera’s children were still occupied.
“I think it’s time we finally talk about the real reason you came here, nephew.” Saera said after a while looking at him. “Craghas Drahar and the Triarchy.”
“It was a fool’s errand to think any of the other Free Cities would want to partake and go against them, I knew that.” Daemon shrugged, by now accepting he would just have to get as many sellswords and the like as possible, and hope that and Caraxes would be enough.
“Then why even try in the first place?” She asked surprised by his answer and the undertone of genuine self-deprecation.
“Because I had to at least try.” He answered still not looking at her. “It is a second son lot in life.”
Saera did not answer anything right away, observing her nephew with new eyes. And seeing the damage the people in his life did on him, the same damage her and her siblings suffered in one way or another. She could assume neither Rhaenys nor Viserys faired any better, fools or not they deserved better just as much.
“Well, you are in luck then.” She said finally making him look at her. “Unlike the other cities, Volantis does have a reason to be very displeased with the Triarchy… It was not that long ago their alliance shooed Volantis from the Disputed Lands.”
“Right.” Daemon murmured, he had forgot about that completely even though he was in Lys at the time but too drunk to understand why the Lyseni was commemorating through the streets. “They hold a grudge over it?”
“And the fact Lys and Myr rebelled against Volantis little conquest of them.” Saera replied rolling her eyes. “The Volantene beyond the Black Wall still dream of being Valyria come again.”
“So you’re saying I have a chance to sway them to ally with me against the Triarchy?” He asked, hopeful he might have more than just Caraxes and a bunch of mercenaries.
“No.” Saera answered curtly. “When I heard about your excursion through the Free Cities, I made some inquiries and prodding of my own… Volantis’ own Triarch might be amenable to lend help if approached by the right person. Which is not you, nephew.”
“Would I want to know why not?”
“Not really. Just know they already refused your brother so I’m sure they would refuse you too.” She shrugged and took a sip of brandy. “Valyrian blood and the dragonlords of old are highly esteemed in Old Volantis it is true but only to a certain extent.”
“The current Targaryens are not included in their high esteem, I take it.” Daemon more affirmed than asked.
“The current Targaryen are too assimilated into the Andal culture, so no they’re not highly viewed beyond the Black Walls.”
“Mhm… However did you heard about my ‘excursion’ anyways?” He asked curiously.
“A woman such as myself does not get where I am by the talents of her cunt and a brain for business alone, sweetling.” Saera answered with a grin. “We ought to know how to gather necessary information from the right people and how to manipulate it in our favor.”
“Alright.” Daemon chuckled, never disappointed by his aunt. “Then who is this right person? Your husband? He is part of the Triarch, after all.”
“Twice over thanks to me.” She grinned even wider proud about that. “But not him, he must seem impartial to his wife’s whims. As a matter of fact, when I bring the suggestion to them, he will vote against me. We’ll fight about it, it will cause a strife in our marriage… It will be a whole thing.”
“You thought about everything already, have you?” He was truly amazed by her. Again angry at his Grandfather for losing him the chance to have her as a mother figure growing up.
“Since my nephew does so little thinking, someone has to do it for him.” Saera poked fun at him, no entirely meaning the words but it was always good to remind him he does need to use his brain more often and in a better way.
If it was anyone else Daemon would be up in arms to defend himself but he simply laughed at his aunt’s comment. She was not saying any lies. He was here, exiled again from King’s Landing, exactly because of his lack of actually thinking before acting or saying something.
Daemon could not avoid wondered if Saera would be amenable to come back to Westeros, even if just to visit sometimes, her presence could be very good for Rhaenyra’s and Baela’s future roles as rulers in their own rights. Saera could give them a very different perspective of it than the Westerosi kind they would learn.
His girls would need people like that since he would be too occupied being their sword and shield to do much politicking. No matter the natural desire for the Throne, Daemon always knew that was not what he truly wanted nor what he was born for, he was glad to pass that over to Rhaenyra.
Though not as much about how that came to be and the dangers Viserys put her in, dangers he was sure his brother was doing nothing to protect Rhaenyra from, dangers he right now could not protect his niece from. That would have to be Daemon’s role one day soon. And he would happily do it, he just needed to have more than just Caraxes and Dark Sister, Daemon needed advantages. He needed something that was his to offer when necessary.
The Stepstones seemed as a good enough start for that.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
“Send a raven to Oldtown.” Otto said to Mellos after finishing sealing the small scroll, the new Grandmaester patiently waiting to be the one to personally do the task. “Straight away.”
The Grandmaester and the Hand exchanged a knowing look before the former turned to leave, right at the same time Alicent was entering the study.
“My Lady.” Grandmaester said respectfully earning a kind smile from Alicent.
“Father.” Alicent said feeling a little apprehensive and not sure whatever her father wanted to speak with her about. “Gwayne said you wish to speak with me.”
“My darling.” Otto smiled standing up to go to his daughter, softening his voice and his demeanor as not to spook Alicent’s feeble sensitivities. “I found myself thinking of your mother today.”
Alicent swallowed at the mention of her mother, her father rarely wished to speak about his late wife and certainly disliked whenever his children brought up the subject.
“Mother is greatly missed.” She said unsure of what else she could say without upsetting her father.
“Indeed.” Otto nodded, even if Helen was not his choice of a wife their years together were good enough and she did her duty to him as she was supposed to, giving him three sons and two daughters to be used for their family's elevation; more than his brother could boast of. He grabbed his daughter hands and brought them to his chest. “Helen wished great things for you, Alicent. We all do. You can be the future of our house, of the kingdom, if you just do your duty right.”
“That… That is also what I wish, father.” Alicent looked up at her father, a bit unnerved by his attitude. “To do my duty to my house as best as I can. To make you proud.”
“Good, good.” Otto smiled satisfied with her answer but then he caught sight of her ugly bruised fingernails and instantly his mood soured, his hold on her hands tightening. “You are the most comely girl at court... Why do you destroy yourself?”
Alicent grimaced at his question, the way he was looking down at her and painfully holding her hands, she tried to pull her hands away to hide them but her father held on harder.
“How is King Viserys doing?” He asked after a minute, finally letting go of her hands and then walked back to sit behind his table.
“Hi-his Grace has been feeling… A little disquieted.” She answered, though from the last couple times she visited him the king seemed more like dismayed really. “The happenings of the last couple weeks were a bit hard on him. He worries much for Rhaenyra. And the influence of Lady Amanda's presence.”
“The King spoils his daughter too much.” Otto corrected leaning back on his chair, avoiding the subject of the Arryn woman. “It is the reason she acts in such ways. Princess Rhaenyra lacks a firmer hand to curb her worst Targaryen traits, something that must be done before she becomes like her uncle.”
“I’m sure with the right guidance Princess Rhaenyra will grow to be a better young woman.” Alicent agreed, and she would not have minded to be the one to help the princess. But that seemed less and less likely to happen with King Viserys growing interest in agreeing with Lord Velaryon's proposal.
“It will be difficult now for that to happen though. The King has confided in me last night of his decision not to remarry.” Otto sneered, his mind still reeling from the latest blow to their well-crafted plans.
Everything achieved so far and all they still would achieve, threatened by the whims of a spoiled little girl. And the weakness of a fool. And of whoever babbled about the former queen's death.
“What?” She questioned in surprise and confusion.
“It seems Rhaenyra’s latest tantrum has affected the king greatly and he thinks it would be better not to marry again to avoid upsetting the girl.”
“Oh… Well, His Grace does have a tender heart, especially when it comes to his daughter.”
“Unfortunately yes. However, that will not be a problem once the right proper wife gives him a son.” Her father said making her more confused.
“But you just said…”
“What King Viserys has decided will not make a difference if you do your duty right, Alicent.” Otto said looking intently at his daughter, hoping she would not be so dim and understand what she must do to secure their plans.
“I… I’m not sure…” Alicent spluttered, unable to understand the meaning behind her father words and feeling unease at whatever it is he meant. Unconsciously she brought one of her hands to her mouth, teeth digging in the abused flash of her fingers.
“Stop that.” Her father ordered harshly. “King Viserys has been much glad of your visits, his personal steward has told me… But these visits are no longer enough to make you queen. If that is truly what you wish for, Alicent, you will have to do more.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand, father.”
“Yes, you do.” Otto gave her a condescending smile. “You would gain nothing spreading your legs to that rogue but you will gain everything by doing it for the king.”
“I did not…!” Alicent tried to defend herself but her father quickly interrupted her.
“Spare me, child.” Otto said waving one hand dismissively, then sighed. “Time is of the essence, Alicent. And sacrifices sometimes need to be made when one truly wants something… If a crown is what you want, if doing your duty to our house and making me proud it’s what you truly wish, then this is what you must do next.”
“I-I wouldn’t know… What to say. How to act.” She said weakly, bowing her head to hide the tears threatening to spill. Alicent wanted to earn the crown by making the king fall in love with her, not like this.
“Write a letter to your aunt asking for her counsel, she will know how to help.” He answered with finality, averting his eyes and attention to another piece of scroll he needed to write on.
“What if… What if someone finds out?” Alicent asked in fear. “Wouldn’t it be too dangerous? It would ruin my reputation.”
“Do not fret yourself over small details. You know that I’ll ensure everything is taken care of.”
“If that is what wish it, father.” Alicent said in agreement before turning to leave, she knew there was no point in arguing anyways. If this was she needed to do, then so be it.
It was not in fact what Otto wished for, there was too many risks but they were left with very few effective options to guarantee Alicent’s ascension as the next Queen.
Even with the Velaryons daring proposal and the king seemly interest in considering the match, Otto knew Viserys well enough to know it was just a matter of time before he changed his mind to consider a woman grown instead of another child who would likely be unable to have a healthy pregnancy. With or without interference.
Once that happened, Alicent would have wooed the king enough, perhaps even made him fancy himself in love and from there it would have not been hard for Viserys to choose her. Now the simplicity of their plan was destroyed thanks to that spoiled princess. If Viserys was a better man and king he would not give attention to the girl’s little drama.
Alas, Viserys was not a better man much less a king. Most of the time that worked well in Otto’s favor but the king’s weakness for his brat of a daughter was proving an annoying obstacle. It has been risky enough to make sure Alicent’s late night visits went undiscovered, if the visits became more than just simply talks between the two the risks would be even higher in case anything was discovered.
Especially now that Otto knew he did not have as strong hold over the secrets of the keep as he thought he did. Whoever gossiping servant made the mistake to babble to the princess needed to be found and punished for it, the great efforts he went through to ensure all witnesses to that day went away could not be for naught. Perhaps it was time for a visit to a certain lyseni whore.
And for now Otto could only hope the princess would not babble to her aunt too. Lady Amanda was proving more troublesome than he anticipated and she was the other reason why the king has folded so easily over the matter of his marriage, the woman’s tongue was too sharp to King Viserys' "tender" heart. Princess Rhaenys teaming up with her also did not help matters. If the two woman were to know how their useless queen died, all hell would break loose for sure.
Otto could not even stop to think about the latest reports of that damned rogue whereabouts either without feeling like his head would split in two. There was not supposed to be so many variables for him to deal with all at once.
However, Otto would worry about all that another time, right now he needed to prepare for the next and newest step of their plan. As long as Alicent does her duty and becomes the Queen to provide the king a son with Hightower blood, all their troubles can be swiftly dealt with one by one. No matter King Viserys love for his daughter, he will not keep her as heir once his so desired son his born. There was absolutely no doubt about that in Otto's mind.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra took in the beautiful day, head thrown back looking up at the red leaves of the weirwood tree and the clear blue sky high above. The prettiest of days apparently would always ended up being the saddest days of her life also.
Her aunt had just taken Baela some minutes ago to see off the entourage of the Vale that would escort her cousin to Runestone, and Rhaenyra was already feeling as if half of herself had been cut right off. Despite Aunt Amanda’s letters to the Royce woman, her letters to Jeyne and her talks with the king, Baela was still being taken away.
After her aunt’s arrival, Rhaenyra finally allowed herself and Baela to walk out of her chambers and for a few days things had gotten better. For a few days she pretended that maybe things would go back to normal, that things would remain as they were and nothing worse would happen anymore.
However, the Royce woman did not want to listen to aunt Amanda's reasoning. To Rhaenyra it made no difference the woman’s assurance both king and princess could visit Runestone whenever they wished. Rhaenyra did not want to have to visit Baela, she wanted Baela here with her. Rhaenyra needed Baela. Her cousin, her sister, was the only person keeping her afloat these days.
In the face of Lady Royce’s unrelenting demands to have Baela back to Runestone though, the king would not relent to Rhaenyra’s wishes either. Both the king and her cousin Jeyne feared entering into a conflict with the Royces for whatever reason she did not bother to even try to understand. It was nonsense, they should be afraid of her kepus, not that Royce wench. If only Rhaenyra had a way to contact him, she knew Uncle Daemon would fly back right away and stop this madness.
Perhaps she should find a way, perhaps if her kepus could just know how bad things were…
Rhaenyra sniffed, she knew better than to hope uncle Daemon would disobey an order of exile from his brother as well as she knew better now than to think her father was not able of doing the unthinkable against his won kin. So perhaps it was for the better her kepus was away, safe somewhere across the Narrow Sea and so he could not be murdered by her father too.
“I am so sorry, cousin.” Laena broke the silence when she caught sight of tears glistening on the princess' cheeks. Not even the prospect of her brother’s nameday in just a few days excited her in the face of her cousin’s pain.
“It’s not fair Lady Rhea wanted Baela back now when you need people close and not away.” Her other cousin, Amara, murmured sitting closely beside her and running a hand down and up her back.
“Uncle Daemon was right to hate her.” Rhaenyra whispered blinking tears from her eyes and looked down at her hands, scowling in distaste at their appearance. Better to focus on that than other things though.
She used to have pudgy cute little hands but now her fingers were so thin that most of her rings fell off easily; they looked the sickly pale and thin way her munã’s hands were, not the graceful thin sort of cousin Rhaenys’ hands.
Those maids who revealed the truth to her so many weeks ago were right and Rhaenyra has been losing weight, even her dresses were becoming looser and looser in her small frame. Courtiers whispered she was finally losing the baby fat and growing up because they did not know she barely ate anymore, and thankfully the people who knew would never tell anything. Though they had also been unable to change it, even her aunt’s stern talks about the subject did little to persuade Rhaenyra.
There was no appetite to be had when her life was a nightmare she could not wake up from. And when she did eat not to pass out, the food tasted like nothing, it tasted sour even if she knew it was probably all in her mind, everyone who ate the same as her could taste the delicious things the cooks prepared. Rhaenyra could not because it was pointless to have anything good in the midst of so much sadness and hurt.
“Do you think Prince Daemon would…?” Laena started and looked around warily. “That he would defy the king if he knew his wife ordered Baela back to Runestone?”
“Probably.” Rhaenyra shrugged, eyes still focused of fiddling with her rings. “But its better he doesn’t. It is not always that the king is so forgiving.”
“Maybe he doesn’t need to actually come.” Amara said, dropping her voice too.
“What do you meant?” She looked up at her cousin in interest.
“Maybe if he just sent his own letter to Lady Rhea it would be more effective to make her see reason.”
“You mean, like threaten her?” Laena whispered leaning closer.
“Well, he does have a dragon. And as a Prince and the father he should have a say in where his daughter should stay.” Amara answered though they knew better than that.
“I don’t know where he is.” Rhaenyra said, shoulders sagging down again. “I cannot send him word about what happened.”
“Mhm.” Laena hummed, blue eyes looking at them contemplatively. “It is risky but there might be a way.”
“What?” “How?” Rhaenyra and Amara asked in unison.
“One of father’s nephews is going out in the sea soon, after Laenor’s nameday. He’s your brother Adrian age, he is very nice and we get along well enough.” Laena explained, fighting a shudder at the thought that that was not true for all of her Velaryon relatives. “And he owns me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Amara asked curiously.
“Anything I want really.” She replied then felt her cheeks hit up in embarrassment. “I caught him kissing another sailor once. So he promised to do anything for me if I didn’t tell his father.”
Even if her cousin’s father was not the monster of her nightmares, Laena would have still not told anything anyways. If Laenor’s feelings of oddness he once confessed to her remained the same, her brother might one day be kissing other boys too.
“You can ask him to search for my uncle then?” Rhaenyra asked hopeful.
“It is risky though, if one of the crew members suspected anything and relayed it to father when they returned he might tell your father.”
“I don’t care.” She retorted, whatever her father might think and do was past holding any importance to her. “Will you do it for me?”
“If you’re sure, then yes.” Laena reached to Rhaenyra’s hand and gave her a smile. “I’ll do this for you, cousin.”
Rhaenyra smiled, a big and genuine smile, in what felt like weeks without doing it. A thread of hope springing up in her chest. Perhaps things could still get better, all she needed to do was be careful in what she would say to her kepus and pray to the Fourteen he did not do anything harsh.
--
Things in fact did not get any better, if anything Baela’s forced leave only worsened Rhaenyra’s state of mind.
For three nights Rhaenyra dreamed of a river on fire, the sound of woods cracking and splintering filling the air. And always just before she woke up startled, scared and sweating, the crying of a babe would ring loudly and desperately in her mind.
She never was one to truly believe in the Targaryen skill to dream, like Uncle Daemon she believed in the tangible power of their dragons better, but she could not deny the gut feeling these dreams of hers were not mere imagination from a troubled mind. This could only mean something bad would happen to Baela in the road or while living in Runestone.
What exactly Rhaenyra could not even start guessing but when the third day passed she asked where exactly Baela would be by now, and as soon as her cousin Adrian answered she would be soon entering the Riverlands… Rhaenyra just knew that must be where the dream was trying to warn her something would happen.
Knowing well she could not count on her father for anything, not even if dreams were involved, on the fourth night that she woke up again from the same dream Rhaenyra got up from bed and went to the Dragonpit through the secret passages. She could not count on her father but she could always count on her Syrax.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
The princess and heir sat on the high table set in front of the Iron Throne stiff as a board and just as uncomfortable.
Rhaenyra did not know how much longer she could take the never ending praising of the lords and ladies to the king and his sensible thinking in a small and more intimate celebration of his name day for just one night than something grand and longer. It might look sensible to them but it still felt disrespectful to Rhaenyra when she knew the king was the one to blame for the period of mourning to their late Queen.
Either for lack of time or a councilmember’s suggestion, or even her father’s own wish, the king nameday was a small affair compared to other times. Only the important lords and ladies already in the capital were invited, and not all courtiers were, for a mere night of well-planned banquet and dancing and other entertainments.
Everything boringly dull and superficial, her muña and Rhaenyra herself would have done a better job she was sure.
Even Laenor’s celebration the previous week had been more lively and fun thanks to Laena’s efforts.
They had spent hours sailing through Blackwater, far enough both Dragonstone and Driftmark were spotted at one point, there was odd and different river and sea dishes served that were seasoned by spices from Essos and other places as was costume in High Tide. Lord Corlys gave the best of drinks to be served, even the kids were allowed some sips of the famous sweet amber wine from the Summer Island, and most of the adults finished the ride thoroughly drunk.
They sailed in the Sea Snake instead of the usual pleasure barge, since the ship was big and spaciousness enough to accommodate all the guests easily; it was sailed by Lord Corlys himself and even Laenor tried his hand a few times to everyone’s amusement. They returned from Blackwater well into the night, everyone full and happy.
It was such a good and fun outing that for a few hours Rhaenyra was able to distract herself from the deep gash in her heart that Baela’s absence caused.
Unlike now that being here, forcefully sat beside King Viserys, only reminded her more and more of all the reasons why her life turned into a nightmare. It did not distract her from the worry about the lack of news from Runestone to announce her cousin’s arrival, endless days without news when there should be some by now. And not even Syrax had returned yet making her worries worsen.
Her aunt and cousins tried their best to entertain her but it was to no avail when her father was drunk enough to be loudly talking to everyone who would give him attention, which was everyone else in the throne room. While King Viserys gorged himself in all the dishes served, his daughter only touched anything when ordered to by Lady Amanda, but that went pass his notice.
Rhaenyra just wanted to go to her room and try to rest, though sleep was unattainable at this point. She would never be able to sleep again until she knew both Baela and Syrax were fine. Because what if her father had sent Baela to her death? And Rhaenyra had sent Syrax to her doom as well? Did she lost them too and did not even know?
--
Viserys entered his chambers after bidding his kingsguard a good night, the doors closing behind him and he sighed tiredly but contentedly.
His nameday celebration feast went truly well, better than he anticipated it would with how gloomy the mood and air in the keep still was since his dear Aemma’s death. Viserys was tempted to let the date pass without any celebration but Otto and Grandmaester Mellos had insisted it would be a good step to start livening up the Red Keep once again.
Lord Strong also agreed the King nameday should not pass uncelebrated and Lord Corlys reminded how well his own son celebration was received. Lord Beesbury was less enthusiastic about it, likely because of the expanses, so Viserys settled for small affair rather than the grand feasts and tourneys he threw in his previous namedays since becoming King.
After all, no matter the improvement in his spirits, he still felt deeply in his heart the absence of his dear Aemma. A grand festivity would only remind him of how perfectly his Queen used to plan these things.
However, to his chagrin the high table where his family and closer friends sat with him would sometimes be filled with tension. Viserys hated it so he did his best to focus on the great food and the wine and the people eager for his attention.
Since Rhaenyra kept a pouty expression, still saddened and displeased with him over Baela, unwilling to talk with him until it became too late and her maids came to fetch her to get ready for bed. Rhaenys was also still clearly displeased with the possible betrothal between him and her daughter, her tense and cold demeanour indicating her and Corlys fell out sometime after Laenor’s nameday.
And Amanda, his strong headed good-sister, still favored throwing daggers his way than to talk civilly so they could reach a compromise. He was more and more inclined to give up trying and agree with Otto that might be best to send her back to Lord Redfort, for her behavior was only helping worsening Rhaenyra’s.
It wounded Viserys to see his dear daughter acting in such ways – their painful talk from days ago had reopened wounds in his chest and still hurt – but what could he do though if Rhaenyra was too young and still grieving the loss of their beloved Aemma to understand the sacrifices a ruler must do for the good of the realm?
Viserys hoped his decision not to marry again, at least for a few more years, would be enough to placate Rhaenyra until she matured and was able to actually understand these delicate topics.
He sighed heavily and shook his head in frustration, then he took off his boots before making his way to his bedchamber, slightly swaying on his feet. If Viserys wasn’t so tired he would have liked to call for more wine, his mind clearly not addled by alcohol enough to forget his many troubles, so he could fiddle for a bit with his Valyrian model until he did got drunk enough to fall into a dreamless sleep.
But he was tired enough that sleep would likely come easy tonight, and hopefully there would be no plagued dreams.
To Viserys shock as soon as he entered his bedchamber he came face to face with the Lady Alicent sitting on his bed; she had left the party earlier after some tense conversation with her oldest brother.
“Alicent?” Viserys asked in confusion and not entirely believing his eyes but he could not possibly be hallucinating, he was sure he did not indulge in wine as much as he did some nights lately. “What… What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“There was no guards around while you were gone, Your Grace.” Alicent lied, voice a little shaken, then she stood up and shocked Viserys even more by the nightgown she was wearing. “I apologize, my King. I-I do not… I just needed to… To see you.”
“What is the matter, my lady?” Viserys asked, not daring to move from where he was but she walked closer to him anyways. What could have possibly brought her here at this hour and in such indecent attire?
“I… I’m sorry, Your Grace.” She replied while nervously fiddling with her fingers, trying not to hurt them more than they already were. “I do not mean to be forward but I… I… I have to tell you.”
“Tell me what? Has something happened?” Her words and trebling demeanour worried Viserys enough then that he was able to get his attention away from her lack of proper clothing.
“I… I’m afraid that during this… During our time together, I ha-have become fond of you, my King.” Alicent answered looking down to avoid seeing his reaction, this was so hard and a war kept waging inside her head over what her father asked her to do and what she grew up learning it was wrong. “I know that… That I’m just a silly girl but I… I wanted you to know I like you. I’m sorry, Your Grace.”
“Alicent.” Viserys said in a loss for words, not expecting such declaration out of nowhere.
He could not deny to have grown fond of the young lady as well after all these moons she provided him much needed company but her words hinted at an entirely different kind of fondness, something more, something deeper which Viserys could not say to feel the same way. He likely would never be able to feel for any other woman the same love Aemma made him feel, for they would never be his beloved Aemma.
Alicent took a deep breath, to have the necessary courage and to avoid start crying; she had cried enough about this since her father’s talk weeks ago. Like Gwayne reminded her that evening, it was time to be actually brave and seize her dreams or else she would make for a poor Queen if she was not willing to make true sacrifices, to be courageous in the face of adversities. Though his words were very different and far harsher than that.
Alicent looked up again and further approached the King, standing right in front of him with little distance between them.
“You might have to marry the Lady Laena or other highborn lady soon, my King. Then our time together would end and I…” Alicent felt dizzy, unsure how to say, what words to use to express what she was offering. “I ne-needed to try… If we could… If we could have this o-one moment I… I needed…”
Viserys eyes widened at the heavy implication behind her words, finally realizing what it is she was seeking this time around being in his rooms, he felt shocked but also flattered, his ego touched by it.
The effects her words made and the so very pretty sight Lady Alicent was could not be avoided by his body. It had been many moons since the last time his body flared to life, the loss of his wife deeply affecting him both emotionally and physically.
“My lady…” Viserys whispered, tone a little warning. “Are you truly… Have you true idea of what you are implying right now?”
“I-I’m sorry, Your Grace.” She stuttered, feeling nauseous with the thought he might be mad and would reject her too. “I’m young and just a silly girl… It’s not my intention to be presumptuous but I… I had to try.”
Alicent swallowed drily, focusing on the true of those last words, focusing on what she had to gain for being here, for trying this. She would have a crown and her gods would forgive her once the realm was in the hands of their faithful servant, working to make Westeros theirs once more. It would be worth the sacrifice then. It has to.
Before the king could react or say anything, Alicent closed the distance between them and brought a hand up to touch his face. Like in the songs and silly love stories she liked to read in secret from her septas.
Viserys sucked in a breath seeing Alicent slowly get closer and closer, her face almost at a level with his and he was unable to do anything but look at her, eyes widely darting over her face. She was a beautiful young lady, there was no doubt about it, but her beauty was different from what Viserys was used to, different from the exquisite Valyrian features of his Aemma he still dreams of.
And maybe that was a good thing, it could give him a chance to distance himself from the painful memories if just for a moment.
Viserys was a king, a husband and a father but he was also still just a man, young and in the height of his virility; he had not realized it until now but he did miss the warm and comfort of a delicate female body against his.
It wouldn’t be wrong of him nor would it do any harm if Viserys allowed himself to succumb to the temptation of the flesh, to seek a moment of reprieve in the carnal pleasure if that was been willingly and eagerly offered to him by a beautiful young lady.
That was King Viserys reasoning in allowing the Lady Alicent to kiss him and for him to kiss her back.
That was the King’s reasoning when he let all thoughts leave his mind while he took Alicent Hightower to bed.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
In the Riverlands an ambush was set to happen to the retinue accompanying Lady Baela Royce Targaryen.
It took longer than expected for the group to reach the Riverlands, with how difficult of a babe the little lady was, crying all the time, refusing to eat, biting and slapping people. Anyone that was not her cousin’s maid, Anora, who dared get any close would suffer the little girl’s wrath.
Thereof their stops on the road to rest took longer than usual for such a small entourage of people made mostly by servants and knights. But finally they reached the Riverlands, half way through to their destination. It would take another day until they reached Harrenhal for a proper rest under a castle roof so the leading knight decided to stop for the night, on the banks of the Gods Eye river so they could make use of clean water.
What none of them knew was that a deal had been struck between two men. Both men wanting little Baela dead for their own reasons and gains.
The assassins came in the middle of the night when the group were in a stretch of land with nothing but fauna to be seen for miles. It was late enough everyone but for a couple of knights patrolling were asleep, taking the rare quietness Baela was providing that night to get some sleep.
The ambush was set, dishonourable lowlifes hired to do the job far enough from the Vale not to raise suspicions. What the would be assassins did not know was that high above the clouds a dragon patrolled the skies as well.
Syrax kept itself inconspicuous to the group of humans it needed to follow, the land and sky unknown to the young dragon which made it be wary of the new places. Syrax was feeling restless that night so instead of finding a cluster of trees to hide and rest, it went hunting and now afterwards the dragon chose to soar through the beautiful night sky for sometime.
The dragon preferred the night better, for the night reminded it of its only dragon friend, the older red dragon, when they used to go hunting in the night.
Syrax glided through the air peacefully when the dragon heard it: the screams of humans. Then came the smell: human blood and fear.
The young dragon divided down swift and fast. Its human had asked it to find and protect her human hatchling but now the little human was in danger; that would not do for Syrax had a task and it would see the task through. Moreover, Syrax could not allow anything to happen to the little human's egg either, a new dragon would be soon born from it, Syrax had sensed that the last time its human brought the egg to a visit too.
Diving towards the ground, the dragon’s vision quickly found the chaos of humans screaming, fighting, running and small fires all around them. It knew it could not set everything on fire without risking the human hatchling, as tempting as it was in the midst of all the chaos and smell of blood. Syrax made itself known instead by letting out a piercing roar which only made the humans below more hysteric.
But it was enough to attract two cutthroats' attention who were loaming above a crowing maid attempting to shield a babe, hoping their knives would hit only her and not the little girl. The maid's prayers were heard. Just before a dragon's roar echoed around them and pulled the men's attention away, one of them had leaned down and plunging the knife twice in the curled woman in hopes it would hit the crying babe underneath.
It was hard for Syrax to find anything among the running and fighting bodies so the dragon followed its human’s little hatchling smell instead. Its human had visited every night for quite sometime now and would always bring along her human hatchling, Syrax was well used to the little human presence and it knew well the hatchling’s different smell; the smell was Valyrian as its human but not entirely the type of Valyrian magical blood the dragon was accustomed to.
Finally the dragon whiffed the hatchling human’s smell, tainted by fear and blood, coming somewhere from the far left side, closer to the trees. When Syrax gold-green eyes caught sight of two big male humans looming over something it knew those were the threat against its human’s hatchling. Syrax was young, a hatchling itself compared to other dragons, but it had learned some things from its red dragon friend.
Before either man had any time to react beyond looking back to the source of the ear splitting roar, Syrax maneuverered its body fast towards them and skilfully closed its claws around their bodies. The dragon’s sharp and big claws easily tearing through flesh, sinew and bones; while flying back up, the dragon then dropped the mangled bodies that were no longer a threat far from the little human.
Now knowing where its human’s little hatchling was and that it was safe, Syrax without a rider to guide it let its natural instinct take over and so in the next moment the dragon lit up the night on fire. Burning everything and everyone indiscriminately.
--
Dawn broke on the Riverlands, with a golden dragon protectively curled around a human babe, when a dragon egg hatched at long last.
The night had been filled with screams, fire and death while dawn was filled with a heavy silence, smoke and the shrieks of a newborn dragon.
Notes:
A little timeline of events: Baela leaves sometime around mid-February, then around 10 days later is Laenor's bday and around a week after is Viserys' bday. No idea how long it takes from KL to Vale but I'll make it around 15-20 days. Daemon's time in Essas happens concurrently with events in Westeros.
Told ya Rhaenyra visiting Syrax with Baela would come in handy 😌
This might be a total nonsensical behavior by a dragon but in my opinion considering they're really smart creatures , I thought it's not all that much impossible!
And I don't remember anymore how exactly GRRM treats dragons' gender buuuut my headcanon they're genderless when this young like Syrax and will "present" when older depending on their rider's gender. Hence why I'm using 'it' in Syrax pov instead of the 'she' Rhaenyra uses.
Canonically most dragons are of the same gender as their rider's so I thought it would be plausible factor 🤭Rhea thought having Daemon and Caraxes in Runestone was bad, a Targ babe and her hatchling dragon are about to prove her very much wrong 😏
Listen, I know Viserys is a clown, a fool, a dummy, truly not very smart and a huge list of awful traits. But I really think that the reason he ends up choosing Alicent over Laena is because he dipped his d* on her beforehand 🤷🏾 (both in book & series no matter how hard the showrunners tried to make us think otherwise 🤡)
Otto surely did not make (at least I don't remember anything of the kind) a campaign to him of his daughter as a potential match cause obviously the council would list a dozen reasons why she was not a good match. The entire council was already expecting a Targ-Velaryon alliance to happen and they counsel Vizzy on it and no matter how much up Otto's ass he is, he would not a second time go against the whole council just for the counsel of one member. Since he already did regarding Rhaenyra being heir, he would be sensible enough not to do it a consecutive time
So yeah I totally believe the reason he ends up choosing Alicent is because he had a little taste and that's more in par w Vizzy the Clown dumb logicsAlicent really thought she could get that crown by her wooing talents alone but unlike the series, I'm more of a cynical realist type person 😌
Daemon logics are also not that much better than his brother 🤣 boy is all over the place and that's what I love about him alright!
Saera walked so Mysaria could ran but while Mysaria will trip and fall, Saera eventually will fly (figuratively)😏No, babe Rhaenyra is not really a dreamer, she just had an episode for plot reasons 🤭
Ik two surnames are not common in Westerosi but considering Baela's peculiar position there was no way for her to have just one surname so officially she has both.Look, I suck at geography too so yeah, travels here around Westeros will likely be very inaccurate, sorry but it is what it is!
Any guesses who those two men that made a murder deal are? So hard to guess right hahahahahahahaAnyways... To my questions for you guys:
1 - I'll do a jump in time after this 106 year, about 3-4 years I think
So, you will prefer a straight jump and then the happenings of previous years being described along the way? Or would you like a exclusive chapter as a summarized version of the events of the years that won't be really delved into (like I did in chapters 2&5)?
2 - I was doing some re-reads of my ideas and also of plotlines from the books, seeing what was missing, what I wanted to bring into the story, that whole thing.
Then I realized that since the 'dragonseeds' plot likely won't be happening here, atm I'm without options in what to do and how to bring the Velaryon boys (Addam&Alyn) into the story 🤔
Particularly I like them so I do want to bring them into the story so here's the options:
A - Canon, them being Marilda's children. And being Corlys' baseborns. That good ol' family drama
B - Canon divergence and Rhaenys gets pregnant w them. That might be helpful in taking off a lot of pressure from Laenor
C- Canon divergence, one is Rhaenys' and the other is Marilda's still, so we have both plots
What would guys like best?
3 - Give me some suggestions for Rhaenyra's first ladies in waiting please, in case any of you guys' names will be different from the ones i already thought but still a good addition to make!I think that's all for today 😅
If you interested in a bit of visual for the story, here's the links:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-21/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
If you liked the chapter, leave kudos and comments, they're very much appreciated and a source of inspiration 🥹See you in the next one 🥰
Kisses 😘
Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-Two: 106 AC Part VII - Two Sides of the Same Coin
Notes:
Heeeellooouu readers 🥰
I could not wait anymore to update this chapter!! I'm both excited and fearing for you guys reception of this one 🫣
Two plotlines in this chapter were always meant to happen, i've decided on them early on the drafts of the story so I'm really hoping for you guys to like it. And not jump ship because of it, fingers crossed 🤞🏽🤣
I'll talk more of it in the end notes for anyone interested!On that note, once again TW for mentions& implying of Daemon/Others and Vizzy/Alicent
More Saera goodness and being the parental figure Daemon sorely needed in life! This woman be like "this boy either becomes.a better man or he becomes a better man" 🤭
And a bit of Viserys actually thinking rationally about something for once (and being a decent man/relative, kinda) in the beginning of the chapter 😳Not much Rhaenyra or Baela in this chapter but we'll get plenty of them in the next one (which might end up another huge monster chapter) 😉
HighValyrian = bold italics
Haven't said that in a while but English is not my mother language so I apologize for any glaring mistakes!!Oh and thank you guys so so so much for the almost 600 comments and almost 800 kudos left in this fic *crying screaming at the void* I'm always blown away by your guys like and appreciation for my story 😭 It make my days and weeks to see these numbers rising like this 🥹❣️
Now have a fun reading *she says dropping this bomb and running to the hills* 🤭
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rhaenyra was once again mindlessly going through the motions of filling the small councilmembers cups, her attention far away from whatever was being discussed. Ever since Baela left, Rhaenyra’s interest for her role as heir nearly disappeared and all the improvements she had achieved so far were slowly collapsing.
It felt more pointless than ever to try keep on fighting for anything when all she ever gained in exchange was pain and heartache.
She was about to fill her father’s goblet for the fourth time, the meeting lasting for too that day, when the doors were opened and a panting Maester Barry entered the chamber with wide eyes of fear.
“Maester Barry what is the meaning of this?” Grandmaester Mellos was the one to ask, looking disapprovingly to his fellow maester.
“I apologize, My King, Princess Rhaenyra.” The man said not paying heed to the grandmaester and looking just to the two royals. “But terrible news just arrived from Harrenhal?”
“From Harrenhal?” Lord Strong asked worriedly.
“What is it, Maester? What happened in Harrenhal?” King Viserys asked before the man could answer Lord Strong, the state of the maester and the look in his eyes making the king more than apprehensive.
“Not in Harrenhal, Your Grace.” He answered, looking quickly at the princess, afraid of how the news could affect the little girl more than she was already affected from everything else. “There has been an attack on the road there, to the entourage accompanying Lady Baela.”
Rhaenyra was sure she must have fainted for a minute because the next thing she remembers after the maester’s words was being on the ground, cradled by her father who was asking something to her, surprisingly in High Valyrian, while the rest of the council crowded around them.
She missed any other details of the events the maester might have said to the council. And their hasty to get her away from the shards of broken glass, the pitcher in her hands having fell on the floor.
“Baela…” Rhaenyra whispered searching for Maester Barry’s face, he was beside Lord Corlys looking worriedly at her. “Where is she? Where is my cousin?”
“Baela is in Harrenhal, my dear.” Viserys answered, relief flooding every single cell of his body in seeing her eyes open, he almost collapsed himself when she fell. “She is alright. She is safe now, Syrax is there.”
Rhaenyra could not avoid the sob that escaped her nor avoid to seek comfort in her father’s chest. She has been thinking the worst for days now, plagued with nightmares of all the awful things that might have happened to both Baela and Syrax; it felt like breathing again after almost drowning to know they were alive.
“Go with Ser Harrold. You must lay down and rest after this scare, yes?” Viserys said before giving a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll come see you in a moment.”
She wanted to refuse, needing to know what had happened, and wanting to scream at him that once again it was all his fault but she felt too tired for that so Rhaenyra accepted Ser Harrold’s help to stand up and his stead hand on her back guiding her out of the chamber.
“Have you no tact whatsoever, Maester Barry?” Otto asked in an admonishing tone as soon as the door was closed again. “You should know better than to bring such distressing news when a sensible girl is in attendance.”
“What happened? I want details right now.” The king commanded standing up, ignoring the Hand’s words.
“The castellan of Harrenhal does not explain much more than what I told you, Your Grace.” Maester Barry answered, also not bothered by the Hand’s judgmental words and looks, extending the letter to the king. “Lady Baela’s entourage was attacked in the middle of the night. Probably by thieves, he assumed. And that the survivors told about how a dragon appeared from nowhere and set everything on fire, then followed them all the way to Harrenhal.”
“Considering said dragon is Princess Rhaenyra, no doubt the dragon did it in an attempt to save her cousin and the people with her.” Lord Corlys commented while the king read the scroll; he had lived long enough with a dragonrider to understand a little of the Targaryen’s beasts.
“The princess’ dragon no doubt killed many Vale people instead.” Otto retorted with a grimace, conflicted by this turn of events. In one hand that rogue’s daughter survived the attack but on the other hand the princess’ dragon rampage could be useful.
“That saved Lady Baela’s life, Lord Hand, which is what matters.” Lord Beesbury said looking at the Hand judgmentally.
“How this convenient event came to be is a more pressing matter to discuss than a dragon killing some people.” Corlys was not truly bothered if he sounded heartless or not, he also had lived long enough with Meleys around to know dragons will be dragons.
“Thieves attacking highborn people on the road is a common occurrence, my Lord.” Grandmaester Mellos said. “Especially in Riverlands roads.”
“Not in recent years, it hasn’t Grandmaester.” Lord Strong disagreed, not liking the man pretending to know his land in anyway. “Especially so close to Harrenhal. I’ll have to agree with Lord Corlys that the timing of this seems a bit odd.”
“Lady Rhea’s cousin was never happy about her being the Lady of Runestone instead of him.” Viserys finally took his eyes from the paper, mind reeling from the words written, and quickly reminded Aemma discussing about that once with Daemon. Before saying anything more, he looked at Maester Barry who stayed in the chamber. “Go see if Rhaenyra is truly alright. Maybe give her something to sleep if she’s too distressed.”
“Your Grace.” The maester bowed his agreement before hurriedly leaving the room.
“Could it be he planned this? That would ensure he or one of his children succeeded after Lady Rhea.” Viserys contemplated and if so the man certainly was a dumb one to think he could do such a thing to not only the king’s niece but Daemon’s daughter.
“That is… Quite a dangerous train of thought, Your Grace.” Otto said carefully, cursing the Velaryon opportunist for leading the conversation towards that possibility so quickly.
“And a serious accusation to make without any proof, My King.” Grandmaester agreed.
“A babe was attacked and would have been killed, coincidentally the one time she leaves the capital to go back home. Is that not enough for us to speculate at the very least?” Lord Corlys shot back, how blind could these men be not to see the obvious? And they were supposed to be such smart men.
“A member of my family was almost killed, my Lords. I’ll think on every possibility.” Viserys agreed with Lord Corlys, this event making him feel angered and slighted if indeed someone purposefully tried to murder his niece. “I want this matter looked into, thoroughly. No matter my conflicts with Daemon, he’s still a prince and my brother. And Baela is my niece… I’ll not accept this.”
Viserys was unable to not imagine how enraged and broken his little brother would be if something had happened to his only daughter. Just like Viserys if anything happened to his dear girl. At least on that they were alike. When it came to the people he loved, Viserys could never doubt the lengths Daemon would go to avenge any harm done to them.
“Daemon would have rained down fire on everything if his daughter had been hurt in anyway.” He said with certainty and to his council surprise added. “And I would have gladly sanctioned his actions. Baela is a Targaryen, of royal blood, I’ll not have any words and acts done against her. Whether just thieves in the night or otherwise, I want answers.”
“I will write to my castellan right away, sire.” Lord Strong quickly said, also not liking the looks of it, not when it happened on his lands. “I will make sure he puts the best of our men to search for answers.”
“Do it. And dispatch some of the keep’s guards there as well to guard Baela the rest of the way to Runestone.” He ordered, Otto was right in his observation Syrax must have set even non threats of fire while being without a rider which mean Baela was even less guarded now.
“You are still sending her there, Your Grace?” Lord Beesbury asked with a frown. “If this speculation is true, she would not be safe any closer to her mother’s relatives.”
“I will send word to Lady Rhea so she can prepare accordingly, Lyman.” Viserys answered sitting back down and pouring himself more wine. “Besides, the castellan wrote at least one good news: Baela’s egg has hatched, finally!” He exclaimed happily before downing the wine in one go, not noticing the mixed reactions of his council about that. “I’ll also talk with my good-sister to get her opinion on this and write to Lady Jeyne as well.”
“Most wise of you, My King.” Grandmaester Mellos praised the king as was he’s costume, hiding a grimace over the news there was one more dragon among them. “With the keep’s guards and her people aware of the situation, Lady Baela will be entirely safe on her homeland.”
“Perhaps a few gold cloaks should be sent as well, Your Grace.” Corlys suggested. “They would be glad to protect the daughter of the man who gave them their cloaks. And the king’s niece, of course.”
“The City Watch are the protectors of the city, Lord Corlys.” Otto said irritated by the Velaryon’s constant pestering, moreover about the rake’s child undeservingly gaining a dragon. “Their duty is to King’s Landing not parading around out of it for a man no longer their Commander.”
“I’m sure Daemon will appreciate to have men he trusts with Baela once he hears of it, Otto.” Viserys said, his mind maintaining his focus on his brother’s reaction to that event.
“Prince Daemon is across the Narrow Sea, My King, how could he possibly hear about this? Certainly not something to worry about.” Grandmaester Mellos questioned earning a glare from the Hand.
“My brother always made sure to keep tab of the happenings here, Mellos. Now he has even more reason to do so.” He answered, it was always a wonder to Viserys however way it was Daemon would know of things no matter the distance he flew to. Then he looked to his Master of Law. “Would you mind sending your son Ser Harwin with a couple of gold cloaks along with the keep’s guards?”
“Of course not, Your Grace. It will be an honour.” Lord Strong said finally pleased Harwin’s choice to enter the city watch resulted in something useful.
“Good then. Keep me on the loop of everything your castellan will have to say.” Viserys was about to stand up and call it a day so he could go see how Rhaenyra was fairing but his Hand spoke first.
“Your Grace, now that that it is settle, I think it would be important for us to discuss about Princess Rhaenyra’s dragon.” Otto said hopeful there would finally be a good reason for the king to order his daughter’s dragon chained away in the pit. The rapid way the monster was growing was worrying.
“What about Syrax?” Viserys asked in confusion.
“Well, Your Grace, the dragon was supposed to be here not all the way in the Riverlands.” Otto answered the obvious, trying not to sound annoyed. “All the while the princess did not notice her dragon missing. That seems rather dangerous to…”
“Princess Rhaenyra has barely even being out of her rooms, Lord Hand, how was she supposed to know her dragon was missing?” Lord Beesbury interrupted him, again with voice and eyes laced with judgment. The old lord was truly vexed at the Hand’s insistence in only ever critiquing the princess in a bad way.
“Yes, it is true Rhaenyra did not visit the dragonpit in sometime but she would have sensed Syrax flying so far away.” Viserys said, not in disagreement and more as an explanation. “Either way I don’t see what the problem is or what is there to discuss about, Otto.”
“My King, the dragon went there all by itself… And even if in protection of young Lady Baela, it still killed Valemen… And could have done much worse.” The Grandmaester was the one to answer. “Perhaps the Lord Hand’s previous suggestion of chaining the princess’ dragon in the pit like Dreamfyre is, would be a safe course of action.”
“A bond between a dragon and their rider is as wondrous as it is a mysterious thing, Mellos. People not of our blood could not even begin to understand it.” Once again Viserys said in an explanatory tone, not exactly happy with their opinions of a matter only he and his family understood about. “Syrax likely sensed Rhaenyra’s moods and went after Baela because of it. If that or something else was the reason is of no importance, only that she was there to protect Baela.”
“Proving the dragon is a very capable one to do the job if the Princess Rhaenyra would ever need it.” Corlys added since the Hand and Grandmaester insistence of chaining dragons could very well affect Laenor too.
“Yes, exactly.” The King agreed avidly.
Viserys hoped his girl would never need such sort of protecting, he would make sure she never would, but in case she did he wanted a dragon able to do that not one too accustomed to the darkness of the pit to be of much use. Besides, if Daemon kept being his disgraceful self, Viserys would like to have another dragonrider to count on if the realm ever needed instead of his unreliable brother.
“Chaining her away would hinder these important years of her development.” Viserys added. “Don’t worry, Otto, I’ll order the dragonkeepers to be more mindful of their charges, this was their oversight not Rhaenyra’s. And once my girl is feeling better I’ll have her training more diligently to control Syrax.” The control of the dragons was an illusion true but it was easier to attempt it when one bonded with a hatchling in the cradle. “If that is all, my lords, I’ll be attending to my daughter now.”
That was mostly definitely not all but Otto kept quiet and simply bowed to the king with the rest of the council. He also had letters of his own to send after this utter disaster. Hopefully that rake of a prince would be too busy and unaware of anything for a while longer, the last thing Otto needed in addition to everything else was Daemon coming back to court.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Slowly regaining conscience, Daemon groaned already feeling like utter shit. The night in Volantis with his cousins was wild, to say the least, and Daemon went overboard with his indulgence with alcohol. And from the way his body and groin were sore, he certainly indulged too much in sex too.
It had once been a common routine in his life but it had been quite a while since the last time he went as crazy as last night. Maybe fatherhood did change him a little.
Daemon pushed away a heavy arm draped across his back and then rolled onto his back before attempting to sit down. The room swayed wildly for a minute when he sat down, vision still blurry from sleep, until his sight finally focused; looking to his right he groaned again. Daemon might not have feel any attraction to Shaena but last night he did feel desire towards her brother instead, the two of them falling into bed together with a quartet of beautiful women.
Of course his greedy self could not have been satisfied with having just Saera, his aunt and the first true Valyrian woman he fucked, Daemon had to go and fuck her son too.
It was not the first time he had sex with a man but that also had been a while since the last time. Not because he thought in the same way close-minded Westerosi men did about the attraction for another man and fucking a male arsehole instead of a woman’s, Daemon was just more selective with men than he was with women. For him pleasure was pleasure, whether it came from a cunt, an arsehole or a cock.
Sighing Daemon got out of bed carefully and when standing up tried to stretch his body to alleviate some of the soreness. Daelius remained dead to the world, only two of the courtesans still in the room, one beside him and the other sleeping on the sofa; and Daemon had no idea where Shaena ended up at.
Both were more than safe in their mother’s pleasure house though, so he decided to leave and go back to the manse. He needed some food, a gallon or two of water and a proper sleep in his own bed.
Outside, Daemon went where the three horses they used were still at and mounted the same black horse Shaena gave to him that first day. Fortunately the day was a little cloudy which made it easy to ride to the manse without the usual hot sun of that time of day, he might have passed out otherwise with how parched he felt and the splitting headache in his brain.
--
Arriving to Saera’s manse Daemon quickly went up to his room, a big chamber in the floor where all the family rooms were, just stopping to ask one of the maidservants to bring water for a bath. While the afternoons were when Saera and her children liked to spend some time soaking in the big pool of the bathhouse, the mornings were for her servants and guards to do that. He sure was not in good state to mingle with people.
Daemon drank four big cups of water while waiting for the servants to draw his bath, his insides feeling much better after that. Before the maids left once they were done, he asked them to come back in about fifteen minutes with some food as well for him to break his fast.
As was the Targaryen preference, the water of his bath was almost scorching hot, his sore body relaxing instantly. Daemon scrubbed himself from the events of last night, the sweat and other bodily fluids, using the oils his aunt provided him with; the citrusy but sweet smell of it reminding him of Rhaenyra and her penchant for lemon cakes. He was finishing to rinse his silver hair, the length of it reaching past his ears now, when the maids re-entered his chamber carrying plates. His aunt surprisingly entering right behind them.
“I hope my children showed you a good time.” Saera said after her girls had set the food and left, sitting on his bed.
“Oh, they definitely did.” Daemon answered with a smirk. “Daelius in special.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She chuckled, not bothered or offended by it. “Like his father, he has a thing for silver haired beauties.”
“You know who his father is?” Daemon asked in surprise, getting up and stepping out of the tub.
“Of course I know who the fathers of my children are.” Saera replied with an offended scowl, throwing the towel beside her on the bed at him.
“I didn’t mean to offend.” Daemon said apologetically. “Shaena gave the impression none of you knew who sired them.”
“They don’t.” Saera said seriously, a warn in her tone. “Aside from Skylar and Belicho that is… But Daelius and Shae never needed their fathers, so there is nothing for them to know.”
“Alright then.” He took the hint from his aunt.
Although curious as to why exactly Saera did not like that subject much less wanted her oldest children thinking about it either, Daemon would not press; she had been courteous enough so far never pressing him to talk about anything. It was just after he was dressed in a pair of fresh breeches and standing by the small table in his room, nibbling on the food brought, that his aunt spoke again.
“My husband sent one of his messengers earlier.” She started, voice and eyes looking at him cautiously for some reason that made Daemon tense immediately. “Your friend, the pentoshi prince, had a letter that needed to be delivered to you.”
“Reggio is here?” He asked in equal surprise and dread, the prince would not reach out if it was not something serious.
“No, of course not. He sent someone of his own and was smart enough to send the messenger straight to the Black Walls.”
“Mhm… Where is the letter then?” Daemon questioned with an arched eyebrow.
“I opened and read it, obviously.”
“Obviously.” He repeated the word sarcastically and annoyed.
“You forgot to mention you brought a lover along with you all the way from Westeros … Camellia, is it?” Saera arched her own eyebrows inquisitively.
Daemon startled at the mention of Camellia, his mind having almost entirely forgotten about her. Then he felt slightly worried about whatever might have happened to her that Reggio felt the need to reach out to him; she was supposedly to be comfortably and safely living in the village at the outskirts of the city that the prince always borrowed to Daemon. Waiting for whenever Daemon would come back from the trips he has been doing.
“What about her?”
“Well, either you were extremely reckless and stupid or you were cuckold by your favoured paramount… Or she has planned to entrap you.” She answered now smiling amusedly at her nephew’s confused face. “As funny as the first two options would be, I think the last one is more likely.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Daemon asked through gritted teeth, losing patience over this little game at his expanse Saera was clearly enjoying way too much.
“Congratulations, nephew… You will be a father again.”
--
Saera observed Daemon almost aggressively saddle Caraxes unimpressed by his behaviour. After she delivered the news of his impeding fatherhood, her nephew spiralled because of it, swearing curses, throwing up the tray of food and the table; Saera would have laughed if she was not very worried about the also distressed dragon roaring outside her manse.
It took a lot of coaxing for him to finally calm down and sit to actually talk about it instead of throwing a childish tantrum over his own stupid actions. And then a lot more coaxing to convince him not to flight to Pentos right away, him flying instead when the sun went down was the comprise she was able to make him agree to.
Hours later, after a tense dinner and a hasty farewell to her children, he here was grumbling to himself while saddling his dragon. ‘Why Targaryen men are always such bull-headed creatures?’ Saera wondered rolling her eyes.
“Daemon, are you sure this is the wisest time to go there and confront the girl about this?” She tried one last time to convince him to stay a couple more days until he was more level-headed. “You participated in it too, you know. And you are old enough to know the consequences.”
“And I already told you, that is exactly why I’m angry.” Daemon retorted turning back to look at her, eyes ablaze. “She was supposed to be taking tea and whatever other shit necessary to prevent getting with child. I bought it all for her! The one thing she needed…”
“You pulled out a servant girl with no real future from the shitty life she would ever know. Made her into your favourite lover. You, a prince of the blood. A dragonrider. Brother to the king. ” Saera interrupted him, again discussing the same thing they already did if only to force it into his thick skull. “If you truly expected her to have no ambition for more than just being your whore, then you’re as dumb as you proclaim your brother to be.”
“I fucked many women and I don’t have one bastard to speak of it because I was careful. I had favourite whores before and none of them did this…”
“Because none of them you favoured as much or treated as better as you did this girl, Daemon.” She pointed out the obvious, trying not to hurl something at his head for the use of that word. “If you truly had, trust me, you would have at least one baseborn running around by now… I mean, you put her on Caraxes to fly with you. You brought her all the way here when you could have just left her there.”
“She was more useful here with me than…”
“Oh Fourteen give me patience.” Saera again did not let him finish. “Do not disappoint me now by being that kind of disgusting man, Daemon.”
Daemon this time stayed silent, the look on his aunt’s face, the disappointment lurking in her blue eyes making him want to curl in on himself; he could not take another family member looking at him like that. Feeling that way about him.
And if he was honest with himself that was the true reason of his anger because he knew how that could hurt Rhaenyra, maybe not now that she was just a child but maybe in the future when he intended to make her his wife. Baela was excusable since he sired her with his lawful wife, a bastard with a lover was not.
“Perhaps you are not ready to admit it even to yourself but you have feelings, nephew. Plenty of them and you feel them very deeply. If you did all this for this girl was because you felt something beyond the mere carnal attraction.” Saera said, tone of voice older than her years and without the usual joviality. It was time someone actually talked with Daemon instead of treating him as some troublesome beast.
“Even if it was the littlest of feelings, it was enough for you to act in a way that gave her and anyone else the impression you felt much more. Actions speak louder than words, Daemon.” She added, walking closer to him and then putting a hand on his cheek. “You know that because you are not a man of words but a man of actions. Actions always have consequences, nephew. It is time for you to learn you have to face the consequences of your actions so you can be able to fix them… Learn this before it becomes too late.”
Daemon sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat and tiredness, then he leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder. She was probably right but Daemon did not know how to do that. How to face the errors of his ways, the consequences, how to deal with anything when things became too much. How not to simply lash out whether he or others were in the wrong.
“Do not give up on yourself, Daemon. Everyone else might but you cannot.” Saera ran a hand up and down his back. “There is still time to learn. Time to be better.”
“I do not know if I can.” He whispered, shocked at this willing display of vulnerability but not ashamed at he usually would feel.
“You must… If protecting your daughter and your niece it’s what you truly aim for, then you must.”
“Wh-what?” Daemon looked up at her with a frown.
“You and I are really not that different… Circumstances, yes but…” Saera chuckled sadly, looking down for a second before facing him again. “Learn from my mistakes not by doing them yourself.”
“I’m not made to work at a pleasure house, I don’t think.” He joked earning a slap in the belly from his aunt.
“The offer still stands… If you don’t wish for this child, just send the girl my way and I’ll raise the babe as my own.” She reminded him, genuinely. “No one will even need to know the Rogue Prince’s little slip.”
“No… Legitimate or not, it is still my child.” Daemon replied with more conviction than the first time he refused her offer. Though at first he tried to deny and reasoned Camellia might have slept with some else, deep down he knew she had not. “They’re blood… And the blood of the dragon runs thick.”
“Good.” Saera smiled at him. “Go on, do what you have to. I’ll take care of things here… If it comes down to war, Volantis will stand with you.”
“Thank you, aunt.” He said, for the first time saying the title out loud without sarcasm or in teasing but genuine gratitude.
“Just don’t be a stranger, nephew.” She smiled, softly in a way no one would believe Saera Targaryen capable of.
Daemon nodded with a small grin of his own before leaning down again to give her a kiss to the cheek, then he walked back to Caraxes and climbed on his back. With a last look at his aunt, Daemon gave another slight nod to her before whispering to Caraxes to fly.
‘Why am I always having to fly away from family?’ Daemon thought sadly, his dragon’s back the only place he felt safe to fully let out his emotions. The only place it seemed he would ever belong to.
--
Daemon prowled through the corridors of the excessive exuberant palace of the Prince of Pentos, he knew well at this time of day his friend would be in the gardens, they needed to talk first before Daemon went to the village to confront Camellia. He needed news from Westeros, and to tell Reggio to start making preparations now that an alliance with Volantis was almost guaranteed.
Though Reggio was not a friend in the strictest and truest meaning of the word, Daemon could count on him; the two owned each other certain victories and survival from some circumstances. They could count on each other not to betray or sell the other out, their views about debts and loyalty similar. When Daemon first came up with the wild idea to face against the Triarchy, Reggio was the first and only one to stand with him, at least before his trip to Volantis.
However, neither were naive to think this was a genuine friendship rather than a good beneficial alliance, and that was fine by them.
“Daemon, my friend!” Reggio exclaimed from his position on the big and colourful daybed, surrounded by women, food and drink. “How did things go in Volantis?”
“Great. My aunt will do her best to gain their cooperation for my cause.” He answered, sitting on an empty stool, his legs and body tired from the hours flying.
“Wonderful news!” The prince smiled widely, then dismissed the women so they could have a private conversation. “The other cities putting their weight behind the cause would be even better but we can work with what we have... Though it might not be just your cause for much longer.”
“What do you mean?” Daemon asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.
“Well, Lord Corlys remain very angered with the situation and his ships are now sailing armed as if going into battle instead of just sailing to do some trade.”
“If his ships are being plundering and sank all the time, he ought to do that.” He commented with an indifferent shrug.
“That is true… But that might mean your brother, the king, has given leave for it.” Reggio said, intently observing his westerosi friend.
“Viserys will not go to war for that place unless that Myrish prince shows up at his doorstep.” Daemon snorted.
“He might for his wife’s father.”
“I beg your pardon?” Daemon asked, dropping the fork he was using to pick slices of peaches.
“I’m sure your visit here first is to have information on the goings of your homeland, my friend.” The prince chuckled, always amused by the Targaryen reactions and behaviour. “Word from our dear friend there is that Lord Corlys put his daughter forward as a candidate to be the next queen… And the king seems interested in the deal.”
Daemon did not know what to say, a mix of thoughts and feelings raging in his mind. It had not even been a year since Aemma died, since Viserys ordered her killed, and he was already considering remarrying? After making Rhaenyra, a girl, heir now his brother would go and risk her by possibly impregnating someone with his and the realm’s so desired son?
Times like this, Daemon truly regretted not taking the crown for himself when he had the chance. His brother was not deserving of the throne, he was barely even deserving of the Targaryen blood.
“What else Mysaria had to say?” Daemon asked not caring for the same flowery speech the pentoshi prince liked to use. Nor would he externalize his true feelings about Viserys latest stupidity that could jeopardize their family.
“The Lord Hand is agitated by this possible alliance, for whatever reason. And with your meddling in this Triarchy matter.” Reggio answered, though the last new was expected. “He also apparently did not like the arrival of the late Queen’s family in the capital.”
“The Arryns are back in court?” He felt surprised at the same time a weight was lifted from his shoulders.
With the Arryns there Daemon could allow himself to worry a little less about Rhaenyra being all alone. Even if Rhaenys and her family were there before, he could not bring himself to fully trust them, especially now if Corlys was really vying to get his daughter a crown. No matter his dislike for the place, he knew the Vale would be faithful to Rhaenyra.
“It would seem Queen Aemma’s sister is causing quite a stir in court.” The pentoshi replied with a small grin. “Gossip says she does not hold her tongue when speaking to the king.”
Daemon chuckled, remembering the few times Aemma talked to him about her Arryn family, she always had a high opinion of her wilful spirited sister. Now he could not only feel less worry but also be hopeful Rhaenyra would have a decent female figure to guide her in the absence of Aemma. It should not be so if only his brother was not the man he was.
“That’s good. My niece will need every ally on her side if Viserys does the stupidity to marry again.”
“Well, considering your numbers, it is wise for the king to try to multiply the Targaryen line.” Reggio commented, he had enough time to think over the reasons why the westerosi king would be so haste in marrying again.
“If I was still his heir, yes but not after he made Rhaenyra the heir. That’s putting a bigger target on her back.” Daemon retorted with a scowl. “He should focus in ensuring her ascension as queen will be a tiny bit easier not making it harder by possibly siring a boy that another family will want on the throne instead of a girl.”
“Your logic has merit, of course but… Perhaps, my friend, you brother does not truly intend to keep the princess as heir. Maybe that is why he is in a hurry to marry again.”
“No, Viserys will keep my niece as his heir.” He said with conviction in his words. “He did it as a way to get back at me at first, yes, as some petty revenge.” Daemon rolled his eyes, not mentioning the fact it was also because of the cunt Hand’s pressure. “But he will keep Rhaenyra as the heir now out of a guilty conscience… And because of the twisted love he had for Aemma, the same he has for his daughter and me.”
“A wicked way of keeping you all chained to him.” Reggio said in understanding and sympathy, once upon a time he had a father that acted in such a way, another reason why he and Daemon bonded so easily.
“What else did she said?” Daemon asked to change the subject, heart eager to finally have some news about his daughter and niece. “Anything about Rhaenyra and Baela?”
“No. So very odd still.” The prince replied with a pensive look. “How difficult can it be to get information about children? Dear Mysaria must be losing her touch way too soon.”
Daemon clenched his jaw, Saera’s words coming back to haunt him again, and he was surer than ever how misplaced was his trust and view of Mysaria as well. He had a long fly, hours that were enough to make him reflect not only on his relationship with Camellia but also his affair turned business with the lyseni whore.
“Not losing her touch, becoming a treacherous snake.” He spit angrily.
“You don’t think she is doing it on purpose, do you?”
“Yes, I do. Why else would she avoid talking about them?”
“What reason would she have doing it though?” Reggio questioned, not liking the possibility they have been played as fools by the woman.
“I do not know yet but I think it’s time we find some other source of information.” Daemon replied seriously before standing up. “As soon as Saera’s confirms Volantis backing, we go after Craghas Drahar. We cannot risk having rats in our midst.”
“Your intuition never failed us before so I’ll trust you on this as well.” He said with a small bow of agreement. “I already put everything in place, just say the word and the ships and men you’ll be at your disposal.”
“Good. It won’t be longer now.” Daemon smiled the kind of smile that always made Reggio think of the prince’s dragon’s deathly maw. “Caraxes is eager to taste some myrish flesh again. And so is Dark Sister.”
Reggio chuckled and shook his head, the years might pass and many things might happen but his westerosi friend never truly changed. Like the dragon he rode, Daemon Targaryen was always famished for blood.
--
Camellia jumped to her feet as soon as she heard the shrill clicking roars of Caraxes, carelessly dropping the book she was reading on the floor and then running to the villa courtyard. Ever since she asked the pentoshi prince to find Daemon wherever he was to give him the marvellous news, Camellia has been eagerly waiting and praying for her prince’s return.
She had almost lost hope that she would get with child, so many moons and nothing, but finally had womb quickened with her dragon prince’s seed. And Camellia just knew it was a boy that would grow in her belly.
Daemon had just climbed down Caraxes when she arrived at the courtyard, the place big enough for the dragon to land but not to stay. Knowing how important and meaningful the moment of unsaddling his dragon was to her prince, Camellia stood by the entrance watching him do it without no interruptions. She could not wait for the time she would watch her dragon prince teaching it to their son. As soon as he finished and Caraxes flew up again, he turned to her and Camellia’s heart dropped to her feet.
The look in her prince’s eyes was not what she was expecting, the shimmering anger and disappointment clear as day in them. He should be happy, overjoyed that he would be a father again, this time to a boy as all men wished for, grateful his loving bird was the one to give it to him. So why was he looking at her like that?
“What was the one thing I asked you to do, huh?” Daemon asked, voice cold and stern, when he stopped in front of her.
“M-my prince…” Camellia stuttered, caught off guard by his reaction.
“To drink your damn tea. To not get pregnant.” He said through gritted teeth. “So explain to me how exactly are you with child?”
“I-I… My prince… I drank it, I did, and you know I did.” She replied defensively, reaching out to grab one of his hands. “I’ll admit I must forgot once or twice but it was never on purpose! I never…”
“Be glad I’m not the type of man that would get rid of you and the babe.” Daemon interrupted her, roughly pulling his hand away from hers and instead bringing it to her face.
Camellia swallowed drily, though he did not grip her face hard nor hurtful, but cradled her face as a lover would, thumb caressing her cheek tenderly. Something he so very rarely did. It made her hope he would finally let go of this anger, finally warmly embrace her and be happy about their child but his next words quickly broke her hopes into pieces.
“My mistake really. To give you so much and expect you not to want even more.” He sighed, looking down at her almost in disdain. “I saw the ambition in your eyes and thought it cute... I did not think that you would be bold enough to commit this treachery.”
“Daemon, my prince, please…” Camellia said teary-eyed.
“Start packing your things.” Daemon interrupted her again, pulling his hand away before walking past her, uncaring of the servants curious eyes observing them. “I still have some things left to finish before we can go.”
“What? Go where?” Camellia asked in a panic, following after him, fearing he would send her away. This is not how things should have gone for her, this could not be happening.
Daemon stopped and turned to look at her again, his eyes flitting to her still flat stomach for a second, purple still with a cold and angered glint. Angered at her and at himself. Angered at the complications this could bring to the future Daemon was trying to build for him and his girls. But Saera was right, it was time he learned to face the consequences of his own actions.
“Back to Westeros.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Viserys is startled away from his intent perusal and work in one of the Valyria figurines by a knock on his antechamber’s doors.
Though most of the work of his Old Valyria model is done by the crown’s stonemasons, he has being around the workers observing their craft long enough to work on it himself whenever there is some minor issue with the model needing fixing.
“Come in.” He said, wiping his dirty hands on a towel before picking his cup of wine to take a generous sip.
“Your Grace.” Lord Commander Harrold gave a respectful bow.
“What is the matter, Ser?” Viserys asked curiously, deep inside wishing the interruption late at night was another visit by Alicent. “I said I did not want any interruptions tonight.”
“I apologize, Your Grace. But Grandmaester Mellos is insisting in talking with you, he said it’s a most urgent matter.” Ser Harrold answered, still avoiding his king’s eyes. It was hard for him to do that these days knowing the secrets happening in the king’s chambers. Secrets that could greatly affect Princess Rhaenyra.
“Well, let him then.” Viserys sighed dreading whatever new problem might have happened since dinner. “Hopefully it’s actual some useful news about the attack on my niece.”
Before standing up, Viserys gulps down the rest of the wine, then goes to sit on one of the armchairs to receive his grandmaester. He did honestly hope there was some headway in the searching for answers on that attack, even if a month has passed by now and thankfully Baela was already safely in Runestone, Viserys refused to give up looking for answers.
He needed to have something for Rhaenyra who was still affected by what happened, everyday asking him to let her fly to Runestone to see Baela with her own eyes, and for his brother in case Daemon actually showed up in the capital. According to Otto’s latest report, his rogue brother could not be found anywhere in Essos.
No matter his friend’s denial, Viserys knew what that meant. His brother was no longer lurking somewhere in Essos but somewhere in Westeros.
“My King.” Grandmaester Mellos interrupted his thoughts, bowing deeply while the doors were closed by the Kingsguard commander.
“Please Mellos, take a sit.” Viserys gestured to the armchair in front of him. “Do you want a cup of wine?”
“Thank you, Your Grace, but I already had more than enough during dinner with the other maesters.” Mellos answered, though his dinner was actually with the Lord Hand.
“Then go ahead, tell me what urgent business is this?”
“Before telling you, My King, I ask you not to be angry about the confidence the Lady Alicent put in me. She was left without options I’m afraid.” The Grandmaester said with his usual silky sweet voice, a fray old man’s voice.
“Alicent?” Viserys asked frowning in confusion, after all the nights spend together in his bed it was easy to forget proper manners and tittles in front of other people.
“Lady Alicent called for me earlier.” He answered, twisting the truth as agreed with the Hand; it was too soon to be sure but unlike expected the girl has not bore any fruit from her nights with the king. “She has been highly distressed for days now.”
“Why?” Viserys asked now worried whatever it might be that affect Alicent so much to not only stop visiting him but seeking a maester.
“The lady confided in me that her moonblood has not come yet, she worries it might mean she is with child.” Mellos fought the amused grin by seeing the expression on the king’s face change.
“Wh-what?” Viserys stuttered, head swimming at those words.
“I did not wish to perform the appropriate exam on Lady Alicent to verify if she is really with child she asked of me without seeking the Lord Hand’s permission first, since she is an unmarried lady.” He continued, punctuating all the necessary words as the Hand suggested him. “She did not want her father to know though which is why she confessed about laying with you, Your Grace.”
“B-but it is… It cannot be!” Viserys exclaimed trying to grasp onto some rationality, starting to feel outraged by this unexpected happening. “It has not…. A moon has not even fully turned!”
“Another reason I refused to do the examination, Your Grace. This early on the result could be misleading.” Mellos explained slightly apprehensive over the king’s sudden change and clear aggravation. “Also I decided it was better to seek His Grace first. If Lady Alicent is indeed with child, being still early the pregnancy can be terminated if you wish, my King.”
Viserys brought a hand to his mouth, feeling nauseous by the words the Grandmaester said. Terminate. Kill his own child. He could not possibly do such thing. No matter that it was not planned, that it would be a child from a young lady he did not intend to have anything more than some moments of carnal escape; especially if he married Lady Laena and needed to wait years before bedding the girl.
He could not do that. He could not kill his own child. What if that would be the son he waited for so long?
“No.” He straightening his back. “Do not do anything yet. You will wait until it is an appropriate time and then proceed to do the examination to confirm whether the lady is with my child or not.” Viserys commanded with determination, decided over this choice he knew to be the right one if this was his chance for a son. “Until then, do not speak of this matter. I will talk with Lady Alicent tomorrow. Until a pregnancy is confirmed or not, this stays between us.”
“As my King wishes.” Mellos said bowing his head to hide the small smile forming on his lips.
Viserys waved a hand to dismiss the Grandmaester, wishing to stay alone with his own thoughts to ponder over this matter.
The King cursed himself for not being careful, for not arranging for Alicent to have moontea. He did go to the Street of Silk as all young lands ought to, before his Aemma flowered and they started to lay together, so he knew about how to avoid unwanted consequences with a woman not his wife. However, the last two moons had been so hectic and now he was constantly worried over when his brother would make an appearance back in the capital, that being careful was the last thing on his mind.
Alicent proved to be an even better distraction now they were doing more than just talking, she was more than just an ear to listen to his plights, a gentle counsel to sooth his troubled mind, but also a body to warm away the loneliness. So despite knowing better, Viserys messed up by not being careful. And now it could be too late.
Too late but perhaps rewarding as well. What if his dream had been about a boy not from Aemma’s womb but Alicent’s? He never again had such a dream so he thought that future died along with Aemma and Baelon but maybe he was right all along and the dream simply came in a bad timing. If so the gods were really cruel, forcing him to choose between his beloved Aemma and a son that was not the right one.
And if Alicent was pregnant with his child, his long awaited son, the right son… Could Viserys take away the position he gave Rhaenyra? Could he risk losing her admiration, her love if he were to do that? Could he bear the guilt of hurting the last piece he had from Aemma?
Viserys did not know the answer to those questions with certainty and he would rather not think further on it for now. It was best to push these thoughts away for the moment. It was best to wait to have a confirmation if he were to be a father again, to wait to see if the child would be a son.
The only certainty at that moment in Viserys’ mind was that now he could not marry Lady Laena, if Alicent was with his child he would have to marry her.
Perhaps it was for the better to marry a woman grown this time around instead of a child, perhaps then he could build the big family he wanted, a family big enough to rival that of his grandparents. Perhaps then Viserys would be able to save the Targaryen bloodline.
Notes:
So what are your thoughts?!!?!?!? Leave kudos and comments to let me know if you liked it, they're very much appreciated 🥹
Look, I know our babe princess is going through it and having a rough journey so far buuuuuut her glory days are fast approaching, hang on tight for a couple more chapters 😉
Viserys actually listening to his other councilmembers and not Otto and thinking/assuming the right fact on top of that but it not lasting for the whole chapter?!?!?! *Pikachu shocked face*
Alexa blast "Mister oh so wise Hand of the King is getting desperate" for our enjoyment please 😏Listen, I'm a Daemon bisexual truther alright! This man is too much of a ho* not to swing both ways hahhahahahaha
I'm also a believer that if Daemon had been treated as more of a human being than just a inconvenience to be dealt with at all costs, he might not have turned into his grandparents/Viserys "nightmare" 🤷🏾♀️
Here Saera is dragging his ass through the mud in an calmly manner, like a mother "gently" disciplining a misbehaving child, something I'm sure Daemon rarely if ever had so yeah, not only did he vulnerably folded but actually listened to her!!Man literally could not handle the pressure/heat he got from Rhaenyra in canon, preferring to go on a suicide mission instead, that says it all about how poorly and ineffective his family way of "dealing/disciplining" him always was 🤦🏽♀️
Imo Daemon is more the kind of person who listens and can be malleable to changes when the truths are said in a disguised gentle way. Or maybe that's just me projecting onto him 😅Daemon getting a bastard was always on the cards folks, sorry. It was one of the ideas I wrote down on the drafts before even starting to actually write the story. Same for Alicent supposed pregnancy (though I did change it to be less of a certain fact and more of a desperate possible lie from Otto).
Not to let out too many spoilers but to calm your minds a little: the real questions you all should ponder on are not whether the pregnancies will be full term or not because at least one will be buuuut
Which one? Which brother is getting a son first? Boy or girl, how long will outside forces allow a baseborn from Daemon to live? Did Alicent really get that "easily" pregnant or will she be more unfortunate on this department than canon? Will she even ever birth a son?No need to answer me, just think on it and wait to see which of your predictions turn right 🫣
All I will say is, I do have a plan and certain tags are/aren't there for a reason!Also, I always thought Mysaria's true colors (at least in book canon) were always there right up in Daemon's face, but boy was just too blind, righteous and arrogant to see 🙄
What would she gain hiding info about Rhaenyra&Baela (especially after his daughter was almost killed)? More like helping one of her clients gain time w Daemon having no really really really good reason to fly back west asap to fuck up their plans!
Too bad for them he's going to anyways without even knowing anything yet 🤭The last part of the chapter, Viserys receiving *that* news, is actually a bit of a jump in time of a few weeks. It was supposed to be in the next chapter but I thought it would be nice to put in contrast the brothers going through the same situation. Sort of a parallel to how they act receiving the same news, how is their thought process to get to the same decision, their reasoning & justifying of it. Hence the chapter tittle
Next chapter it begins by going back to some important things that happened before Vizzy was clowned by his Hand as usual, then forward to the aftermath of this news and his decision 😉I was so anxious to put this out that I foregone doing the moodboard and the other visuals to the chapter 🤣
Still, here's the necessary links if you interested:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/I dearly hope you guys liked this one so don't forget to comment and leave kudos, they're my muse 🥰
See you in the next one ❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 24: Chapter Twenty-Three: 106 AC Part VIII - A Father's Fury
Notes:
Heeellooouu readers 🤗
Here's a fast new update! I finished chapter 24 last night and I'm already starting 25 (inspiration is workin wonders this last week) so why not post this one already right? 😁
To compensate last chapter's controversial decisions, here's some protective mad uncledaddy goodness 😉
These next two chapters should actually be titled "Daemon lurking in the shadows to sneak up on people part1&2" honestly hahhahahahahaSome more changes in the tags!
TW: descriptions of violence, torture and gore.High Valyrian = bold-italic
Get your tissues and pitchforks ready, and have a fun reading 🥰
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
"Dear Uncle Daemon
Life has been so hard ever since mother died and you were banished, these have been sad days and weeks, hurtful days and weeks.
My escape, my bright spot of light and happiness were only Baela and Syrax.
Now Baela is gone too. And I almost only have time to visit Syrax at night going to the pit through the tunnels.
Thank you for the maps by the way, they’re proving to be my most powerful weapon!
Father made me heir to spurn you and because Baelon died but he does nothing to actually prepare me for the role.
I have already said it (because I’ve came to learn it the hard way), some of his councilmembers have said it,
Princess Rhaenys have said it but he does not listen. I’m a girl. A girl set to be the first Queen Regnant to sit the Iron Throne.
Things will be a hundred times harder for me, there will be more obstacles in my path thanks to the ways of these andals.
He does not want to listen about it, he does not want to see it. He does nothing to help me with the burden he forced upon me
I wanted to just be a princess, a dragonrider and if mother never had a son, then I would have been happy to be your queen consort.
But now I’m in this position and I’m forced to fight for it, to seek learning the ways of an heir by myself, to do everything perfect,
to be perfect just so their judgments will be less harsh. All of that alone.
Because father does nothing but dance according to the song his Hand sings.
You were right all along, that Hightower leech is a cunt.
I hate him. I want to kill him every day. You should have done it already.
It’s so hard, kepus. So exhausting. I’m just a child, I should not be worrying about the things I have to worry now.
I should not be doing all the things I have to do now. It’s draining me. I barely eat, I barely sleep.
And now without Baela I barely have any energy left to get out of bed and do the duties I have to do.
My childhood died the day mother died but the child I was died the day father made me heir.
I did not know it then and for a moment I felt so important, father finally seeing me, thinking of me as worthy.
All those feelings are gone now, I wish he had kept not seeing me at all, ever.
Although I wish every day you had not been banished and that you would come back.
Because I know were you here, even if not heir anymore, you would stand by myself and protect me
and the vultures would not be picking at my bones so joyfully as they are.
Despite still wishing you to be here, please kepus, don’t come back.
Not for a while longer until father’s temper is entirely cooled regarding his anger with you.
Exploring the secret tunnels, I went to mother’s room and stumbled upon maids gossiping.
Father ordered mother killed, kepus. When Baelon would not come out I think
he allowed the grandmaester to cut her open for a babe who lived for just a day.
So please, please, don’t come back. If he was capable of killing the wife he proclaimed to love,
the mother of his only child, then he’s capable of killing you too. What if Caraxes is not fast enough to come to your rescue?
What if I was unaware and could not beg him not to order you killed? Even if I did beg he would not listen, would he?
I cannot lose you too, kepus. I prefer you far away, alive so one day you can come back to us safely.
I will need you, Baela will need you. So stay there under the sun of Essos, living great adventures you can tell us one day.
As long as you and Baela are alive, I can keep on fighting even if both of you are not here with me.
For one day you will be, when I’m old and strong enough to have the power of an heir I’m supposed to have
then I’ll make sure you two can be here with me.
This letter was supposed to let you know your bronze bitch commanded Baela to be sent back to Runestone
and father acquiesced to her wish. I was going to ask you to send a threatening letter to the bitch
(you were right too in hating that woman, she is a bitch, why haven’t you killed her after she gave us Baela?)
force her to send Baela back to me where she belongs. But I thought better of it.
Baela is just a babe, kepus, just one year (father did not throw a celebration her station demanded but I did
something simple and only with people who care for us. Even two of your gold cloaks came).
And I’m a child myself. I cannot look after her properly, protect her
and I do not want these vultures eating her flesh like they do mine. Though it chafes to admit
perhaps being away in the Vale it is best for Baela, at least until I’m older and stable and strong enough for the two of us.
Without you here she is even more vulnerable than I am.
There was this one time when I was so busy and did not have enough time to spend with her
the caretakers assigned to her were mistreating her, kepus. If I had not witnessed it myself they might still be doing it
their purpose carelessness might have killed her.
But do not worry, I noted down their names and faces, kepus, so you can make them pay once you’re back.
And Lord Beesbury was nice enough to suggest Baela be look after with his granddaughters’ maids,
they treated her right and she was very happy having children her age to play with.
I fear even more for her since her egg has not hatched yet.
It started to crack but the process has been so slow, is that normal?
Should we worry something is wrong? No matter, if it is I’ll just pick another egg for her
or maybe see if that last infant dragon in the dragon pit would bond with her.
Or maybe she is destined to one of the adult dragons in the Dragonmont!
I’m speaking too much. Two whole scrolls and going into a third!
There is so much more for you to know, so much I wish to confide in you, kepus. But I’ll stop for now.
The most important is for you not do anything harsh regarding Baela’s return to Runestone.
I sent one of my trusted maids with her, she will let me know if something is wrong
and I’ll fly there myself if that bitch dares harm her in anyway. Like Caraxes, Syrax is quite fond of sheep.
The Velaryons are still here and Laena is a great companion, a friend truly.
And my aunt Amanda came to court, bringing both her daughter to make me company
and her oldest son to be an additional protection to me, he will be a great knight one day.
But even though their companies are a balm to my lonely days, even if they are able to distract me sometimes,
your absence is still a deep wound in my heart. Made even worse now by Baela’s absence.
Nonetheless, you will still have to make it up to me for being stupid
and allowing that cunt to have the perfect opportunity to make father banish you.
To more effective than ever turn him against you
all these moons later and he stills rages over the dramatic tale his dear Hand spun.
But please, kepus, give me a way to send you letters.
And send me letters too. I miss you, kepus. To have news from you will make my days better.
To read about your adventures there across the Narrow Sea will distract me from the horrors of court.
It will give me strength.
Your favorite and only niece, Rhaenyra.
Daemon read his niece’s letter for the fifth time, sitting on the floor of the balcony of his chamber with only the light of the moon above to illuminate the painful words on paper. Words that felt like a hundred knives and arrows piercing through flesh and bone every time he read them. Words that made him cry for the first time ever since the day his father died.
His room laid in ruins, all furniture either knocked over or broken, some hacked to pieces by Dark Sister; sheets, pillows, clothes and even books tore apart. Daemon’s knuckles and fingers were bruised and bloodied from the long minutes of taking his anger and hurt on the inanimate objects. It was either that or do exactly what Rhaenyra asked him not to. As tempting as it was, Daemon would follow her pleading of not being a reckless and harsh idiot. For her, for Baela and his unborn child, he prefers not to test whether Viserys would or not order his death as well if angered enough. Daemon may have Caraxes but he was still just a man, easily killed even with a dragon to claim as his.
Rhaenyra’s letter had arrived in the early hours of the morning, before he even broke his fast, right when he has just returned from a flight with Caraxes. A Velaryon boy, one of Corlys’ nephews, found a way to dock on Pentos port just so he could deliver the letter in case rumor of the prince’s stay there was true. A favour he owned to his young cousin, the boy said, skittish and fearful, eagerly promising he would not say a word of where the prince was.
It did not matter to Daemon if people knew or not where he was, he was not going to stay much longer here anyways.
Even though Rhaenyra did ask him not to come back and not to do anything harsh, Daemon could only do one of those two things. He would not be able to live with himself, to keep on with his plans regarding the Stepstones or anything else if he did not at least saw Rhaenyra with his own eyes. Saw his daughter. Daemon had been negligent enough with the two of them, careless in his absence and hopes they would be safe enough in that vipers’ nest alone without him.
If everything went according to plan, he would soon be entering a war with the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, and wars could take moons and even years. Daemon needed to see Baela and Rhaenyra before that, he needed to actually, tangibly, make sure they would be safe this time around during his absence. It was his fault if these things were happening to them, his fault for not providing the right safety for them. They were children, his precious girls, how could he have thought they would be alright all alone in that place? How stupid could he be to really think that? Daemon always wanted not to be like his father, his brother and his grandparents and yet he kept repeating their same mistakes. Saera was right, he needed to change, he needed to become better before it was too late.
Viserys was a useless piece of horseshit, that was more than proven to him at this point, a useless puppet Daemon could no longer trust nor stand by nor with. If their House was to thrive, if Rhaenyra’s reign was to thrive, if their legacy was to live on for generations to come, Daemon needed to be what his brother could not. What his father was unable to be due his broken heart. Instead of remaining in the same mistakes as them.
He would go back to Westeros but this time he would act rationally and cautiously, not his usual reckless self. Daemon would make sure his girls, and his unborn child, would be kept safe while he was away. Then he would fly to those blasted islands and do what his ancestors once did, conquer it all by the sheer determination of wanting to do so.
All Daemon had was a meagre army, a dragon and a Valyrian steel sword. If his ancestors conquered a whole continent with that exact same tools, Daemon could too conquer some empty little islands.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
A yellow-golden scaled dragon was the first thing Rhea Royce saw even before the wheelhouses riding towards the castle came into view.
She watched with a barely concealed scowl the beast fly around her castle, roaring loudly and threatening, before going back to fly way too low and close to the wheelhouses. Rhea only ever say Daemon’s red beast, not even during her visit to the capital to her own marriage did she caught a glimpse of other dragons, and this yellow one was just half the size of that red monstrosity.
Still, from the letters she received about the attack on her daughter, even a small dragon could cause more carnage than a battalion of soldiers. Rhea chanced a look at Gerold to see his reaction to the beast fast approaching them; she was sure the slimy vermin was behind the ambush, she just needed proof of it and to know who else from her dissidents helped him with it so she could finally have the right reason to send him to the seven hells.
At least the yellow beast would be a good way to remind him and everyone else with who exactly Rhea was in bed with.
They were all standing just outside the gates of her keep, the main courtyard not big enough to hold the big procession accompany her daughter, patiently waiting the wheelhouses to finally arrive. Once the yellow beast landed right in front of them, looking bigger this close, Rhea was glad for the decision to wait outside; its lengthy tail would have likely knocked stones and maybe even people over had they been in the courtyard.
The beast growled and stared at them, clearly as a way to show dominance as some animals tended to do, but Rhea was not worried. She survived Daemon and his red monster, she could face the princess’ little pet just as well. The dragon let out a steamy huff before rearranged its body to allow the carriage through to where they were standing.
Rhea had hoped for her daughter to arrive with just a Vale contingent, Arryn colors and sigils the only ones in sight. Instead due Gerold’s desperate act, she was forced to see Targaryen colors and sigils surrounding her daughter; worse was the cloaks sporting the color gold as well. Rhea would need to be quick and swift in ridding Baela’s image and influence of all those symbols.
The common knowledge of being an important relative of theirs and possessing a dragon egg would have to be enough to give both of them the necessary power.
Everyone attending gasped when a young dark-haired girl climbed out of the carriage, not only holding a much grown Baela in her arms but with a small dragon curled around the child's shoulders. Rhea had to fight a sneer at seeing that, the egg was not supposed to hatch for many years, if ever; the representation of it would have sufficed. Moreover, a grown adult dragon would have been more preferable than a little dragon babe.
“Lady Royce, good afternoon.” A broad-shoulder tall man said, one of the gold cloaks. “I’m Ser Harwin Strong, the Master of Laws son. King Viserys ordered my father to send me and some other Gold Cloaks to escort Prince Daemon’s daughter here. As well as a number of the Red Keep’s guards.” Ser Harwin said in one go, almost grinning thinking how proud his father would have been of him, even Larys would have be forced to compliment him.
“This is one of Harrenhal maids, Alys Rivers…” He added gesturing to his bastard half-sister. “The maid Princess Rhaenyra sent to care for Lady Baela sadly died during the attack. Prince Daemon’s daughter has quite the temper, much like him. Alys was the only one both Lady Baela and her dragon allowed to care for them for more than just minutes so I thought wise to bring her along.”
“Thank you for bringing my daughter safe, Ser.” Rhea finally said, with her usual stern and disdainful tone, not liking his audacity to put a bastard to care for a highborn lady's child. “I did not thought asking for the people of the Arryn’s household be effective in bringing her was too much to hope for.” She added pointedly looking at the few people sporting Arryn colors, no matter their still haggard state. “Now, I will be the one to decide who is appropriate to look after my daughter, of course.”
Rhea stepped forward, intending to pick her daughter from the bastard’s hands, hiding as best as possible her displeasure and disgust to have the small beast anywhere close to her. But just as she reached out her arms, before she could even touch Baela, the little monster reared its head back to let out a high pitched screech, then bared its still too small fangs as if ready to bite the human it sensed as a threat, meanwhile Baela just turned her head hiding away into the crook of Alys’ neck. Rhea instinctively and inelegantly jumped back in fear, anger blooming in her chest at the humiliation her infant daughter was causing her.
‘She is Daemon’s daughter, the little demon.’ She thought exasperated, this time unable to hide a deep scowl. Ser Harwin arched an eyebrow at the woman before him, now understanding the Prince’s disdain of his wife, and once again prayed to the Old Gods for the Prince to return soon. The little lady clearly would not be treated as well as she was by the princess back in the capital.
“Baela and her dragon are just finding everything strange, Lady Royce.” Alys said, with her best feigned sweet voice but internally laughing at the woman. “They will need time to adjust.”
“Of course.” Rhea cleared her throat, trying to put herself together again. “Come along then, I have prepared your stay for the night before you can all get back on the road again.”
Alys promptly and unashamedly walked right behind the lady of the castle, head held high, she was sure this woman nor anyone would be sending her away. Little Baela would be sure of that. Any other babe behaving the way Baela did, Alys would thought utter distasteful and want distance from but little Baela was special. The godly kind of special as the trees whispered to her days before the child arrived in Harrenhal.
Both First Men and Valyrian blood running in her veins made it possible for her to have both the old gods and the fourteen flames blessings; it was why Alys insisted and begged dim-witted Harwin to allow her to come.
It would be Alys purpose to keep this girl safe, to guide her into learning all she needed to about such precious gifts.
--
Harwin spent the previous night and the hours of the morning carefully watching everyone in Runestone as his father had ordered him too. The King wanted answers but so far there was nothing substantial to know, they needed to know if their hunch about Lady Rhea’s relatives held truth his father had explained.
From what Harwin observed and what little the most discreet gold cloaks Ser Luthor sent were able to get from the servants and green boys posing as knights, the possibility the attack was ordered by Gerold Royce was high. The man had a certain look in his eyes, especially when glaring at both Lady Rhea and Baela, that Harwin saw too many time in the eyes of the scums crawling around Kings Lading.
He was sure the Lady Royce with her sour mood and unnecessarily rude ways gave the man plenty of reasons to hate her guts but little Baela was just a child, innocent though a handful child, how could a man order a child killed like that? Harwin did not want to leave, it felt wrong, the little girl would have only Alys and a small baby dragon – since the princess golden dragon left quickly after they all entered the castle – as a defense, those odds were not good at all.
However, he needed to heed his lord father’s orders and he was not entirely sure Lady Royce would upheld guest rights if any of them lingered too long there. The woman already went as far as dared to undermine Lady Jeyne’s command for the same servants and knights, the surviving ones that is, to stay in Runestone with Baela. Harwin already felt a migraine imagining the other little lady taking her displeasure out on him instead.
“Look out for her, Alys.” Harwin said after getting on his horse, looking down at his bastard sister.
“That is exactly what I’m here for.” Alys retorted, her eerily green eyes staring up at him with the usual mock. “Tell Lord Strong there is nothing to worry about here. The man after Baela’s life will be taken care of soon enough.”
“What the hells does that mean?” Harwin asked alarmed, her cryptic words were as annoying as Larys’, though usually they held more weight and darkness than his brother’s did. She was such a strange girl, harmless though and would look after the little lady properly.
“You will know when you know.” She replied the same answer she always gave whenever anyone questioned facts she was aware of before they even took place, if the trees whispered then it would be so. In a lower voice not to be heard, she added “Safe travels, brother.”
--
Baela’s giggles and a dragon’s screeches filled out the air around the chamber, much to Rhea’s chagrin. They were in her solar, it was supposed to be their boding moment of the day but since her daughter preferred stumbling around after her little beast then Rhea would focus on the responsibilities she has as the head of her house. Or at least she tried too but it was always a hard thing whenever Baela and the little monster were around.
The girl was as loud and disrespectful and a spoiled brat as her accursed father. If only the little monster would give it a rest with its obsession in being glued to Baela, Rhea would have taught her daughter some discipline by now. As her parents once did her, and her aunts and uncles did her cousins, a well-timed and disciplinary beating would go a long way when done early on before a child got too out of hand.
That would have done Daemon some good and so would his child if not for the monsters they claimed as their pets.
Rhea should have listened to that gold cloak's words about Baela being a difficult child, better yet she should have let the girl stay with the Targaryens instead. Each new day the girl proved entirely her father’s daughter, but worse, something Rhea never thought possible for anyone other than Daemon Targaryen. It was that little beast’s influence, she was sure of it.
Hopefully the craft workers would finish their project of a suitable cage fast enough. The sooner the monster and Baela are distanced, the better for her to be finally raised correctly.
Moreover, the little beast needed to be chained away before it actually killed someone. Although still as small as when they arrived weeks ago, the dragon was more and more feral – influencing Baela to act just the same – and would attack anyone who dared approach either of them. Aside from that bastard girl Rhea was forced to allow to stay and just a few of the maids in the castle, everyone else was attacked the same. Rhea included, to her ever growing anger.
The little beast would growl and screech to people in its best behavior but let out plumes of weak flames – more smoke than fire really – when feeling like it. And at its worst, the monster would bite if someone got too close, its small fangs already sharp enough to have severed a couple of fingers off. All the while Baela would giggle and even clap at the monster behavior, the wicked glint in the girl’s eyes the very same her damned father always had, despite their eye colors entirely different.
When the dragon was not close enough or fast enough to get to her, Baela herself would swipe her little hands at people, growl and hiss at them, bite just the same as her little monster. The one time Rhea was able to pick the girl in her arms she slapped her before starting crying which prompted the little beast to snip its teeth at Rhea’s calves and let out a plume of flames strong enough to scorch the bottom of Rhea’s dress. Thankfully that happened in the privacy of the nursery.
And it was enough for Rhea to never again try get the girl. A little girl who just like her father was clearly sent from the seven hells to make Rhea pay for her sins.
Gerold had been very smug about all of this but soon learned his own lesson when the little beast almost bit his thumb off, a good piece of it becoming unsaveble. Better yet, his youngest son was the only child around Baela liked and her monster allowed close for them to play, that way giving Rhea the perfect card to wield over Gerold’s head.
A knock on the door interrupted their moment, both little monsters going quiet in a second.
“Come in.” Rhea said, putting away the scrolls on the table in front of her – a new table she replaced the old one she allowed that demon of a man to defile her on – and she pursed her lips when the bastard girl opened the door and stepped inside, Gerold’s little boy clutching at her skirts making Baela squeal and run to them. “What is it, girl?”
“It is time for Baela’s to have lunch, my Lady, I’ve had come to take her back to the nursery.” Alys said picking Baela up, securely holding the babe with her right arm before holding little William's hand again with her left hand.
If anyone had said to Alys weeks ago how good she would be with children and how much she would actually grow to like them, she would have throw a curse at them.
“Off you go then.” Rhea spoke, lips on a thin line of displeasure, it was pointless to not want the bastard taking care of highborn children. Daemon’s little demon made a good point of that already.
Rhea let out a tired sigh after they were gone, finally some quiet filling the air instead. She ought to visit the crafters later that afternoon to encourage them to hurry their work. Her patience was at an end and she would rather not give Gerold and all her other relatives the satisfaction of seeing her give up, sending the two little beasts back to the Targaryen in defeat.
If Gerold’s plot got to the point he was willing to try killing her daughter, then Rhea needed this legitimacy, Baela and the Targaryen name, more than ever. Hopefully that Targaryen demon would remain far away, she did not need him disturbing her life more than his daughter already does.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was the hour of the wolf when Daemon arrived back on the Vale, a short distance from Runestone castle. The heavy darkness caused by the cloudy night sky hiding away the moon allowed Caraxes to fly undetected from the knights keeping guard on the castle’s walls.
As much as he wished to have some decent time with his daughter, Daemon could not linger too long. There was too much to be done and too little time. So he would see Baela, be certain she was alright here, then pay his bronze bitch a visit.
Daemon walked to the castle gates with his hood over his head, though not ideal to be seen and make the realm aware he was back in Westeros, there was no other way to get inside the castle unnoticed. He hoped though the guards patrolling would be wise enough to let him in without notifying their lady.
However, before he could approach the gates, an equally hooded figure walked to him from the shifting shadows on the stone walls made by the clouds. Daemon tensely put a hand on his sword’s pommel, ready to cut through whoever this was and whatever it is they would try, but as soon as the person was close enough and leaned their head back to look up at him, Daemon’s eyes slightly widened.
It was a pretty dark-haired, green-eyed girl standing before him, not the usual type of bandit. Was she a whore smuggled in by one of the guards?
“Baela is waiting for you, Prince Daemon.” Alys said surprising the prince even more.
“Excuse me?” Daemon looked in utter confusion at the girl.
“She has been saying ‘pa’ non-stop for some days now. I could not figure out what she meant until I learned what the Valyrian word for father was. And the weirdwood confirmed your arrival.” Alys explained, amused at the princes further confusion but the fact he did not called her crazy and just dismissed her as everyone else did was a good sign; not wanting to try her luck too much though, she finally said “I’m Alys, Harwin brought me from Harrenhal to be her new caretaker here in this place. I assume you would wish not to be spotted going in? Follow me then.”
Daemon was lost at whatever the hells was going on right now but he followed after the green-eyed girl anyways. If she took him to Baela, good. If not, he would just follow with his initial plan of cutting through her with Dark Sister. Fortunately for both of them, the girl did take him discreetly through what he assumed was the servants’ path to the keep’s nursery. An unguarded nursery at that. Oh but Rhea will be sure to hear everything and then some regarding her stupid carelessness.
In his travel here, Daemon came to expect to find quite a lot of things in Runestone. The main image his brain conjured was the possibility he would find some other girl being passed off as Baela while his daughter rotted away at the bottom of some unnamed river. Long flights resulted in a wild imagination, apparently. Daemon went through some truly awful days but none compared to the blow of learning his daughter had almost being killed. It would not be surprising if the realm did end up knowing about him there anyways after he all but hacked a group of three men into pieces in a fit of rage when they told him the latest “Targaryen sordid tale”, as they called it.
But from all wild scenarios his mind came up with after hearing that distressing news, Daemon did not imagine entering that room to find his beautiful energetic Baela with a beautiful baby dragon by her side. And the smile that lighted up her whole face the moment he walked in, almost brought Daemon to his knees. Rhaenyra had always been the only one to ever receive him with that same unbridled and truthful happiness but to have that from his own daughter was an entirely new and different feeling. Just as strong and powerful to make him want to fall down and cry but still different.
Baela got up from the rug in the middle of the room she was sitting at and run to him in clumsy little legs, arms raised.
“Papa, papa!” She exclaimed still beaming a smile at him.
Daemon scooped her up in his arms, hugging her tight to himself, her chubby arms wound around his neck while he cradled her head with one hand and leaned his nose in her temple, inhaling the common baby smell. Yet a distinctly Baela smell. His Baela, his girl. His daughter.
He was so distracted in their moment he did not even notice the door closing behind them, Alys giving them privacy while she kept watch outside for no interruptions. A weight on his shoulder and something sharp almost digging into his flash startled Daemon from the moment, turning his head to the side to look he found a pair of light silver eyes staring at him.
“Hello there.” He greeted the infant dragon with a smile, earning a chirping sound in return, then he looked back at Baela. “Is this your dragon, darling?”
“Egon.” She attempted to say, not too far off the right word but unfortunately saying it in Common instead of High Valyrian.
With him away and now her away from Rhaenyra, Baela would have no one to teach her their ancestors language. He knew he could not trust Rhea to order the castle’s maester to do the job nor for the man to actually know the language. Once they were all back together Daemon would be sure to quickly teach the language to her as he once did with Rhaenyra.
Daemon walked to the child bed Baela was probably sleeping in already, he assumed seeing there was no crib in sight, it was the usual small size but decently spacious for at least two small children to comfortably lay in. He sat on the bed, back resting against the headboard, and sat Baela on the space between his legs and the little dragon was quick to curl itself in her lap. The little thing would probably compete with Syrax which one was the most spoiled, no doubts.
Baela leaned on him, head resting on his stomach, and Daemon used one hand to caress her hair while the other rested atop her small hand that was securing the dragon close to her belly.
“What about I tell you a story before I have to go, huh?” He said, the moment so very reminiscent of the times he had to do the same with his niece. “It’s about your father here being a great warrior, fighting mercenaries across the Narrow Sea.”
Daemon wove an embellished tale about one of the times he fought along one sellswords company against another one. He did not even remember the names of the companies or the reason for the fight so he came up with something, not caring to hide the more gory details. Baela would not understand any of it anyways.
And this moment would soon become just another blurry indiscernible memory in her child’s mind. But to Daemon this moment would remain with him, one of the very few memories he would lock and protect in a corner of his mind to always treasure. Something for him to go back to whenever things got too much, whenever he needed a reminder to keep on fighting.
By the time he finished the tale, Baela had deeply fell asleep, face serene and untroubled. Daemon carefully laid her on the bed before just as carefully standing from the bed, she remained undisturbed and only her dragon woke up with a low growl but quickly laid beside her, curling in on itself close to her left side. He admired the sight before him with utter contentment, a genuine smile adorning his face.
Now able to focus on the infant dragon, Daemon was awed by how truly beautiful it was. Unlike its quite unremarkable egg compared to others, the dragon was anything but. Its scale was almost a mix between Silverwing’s and Dreamfyre’s colors, the difference was the predominant green color on the dragon; a green so light that was almost pearlescent. The streaks of silver and light blue blended perfectly with the green, mainly on the dragon’s wings, chest and neck, and tail; its barely existent horns and spikes already presenting a shade darker of silver. A beautiful specimen fit for his daughter.
Daemon leaned down to give Baela a kiss to the forehead, then lingered a few minutes more caressing a finger on her temple babyhairs before finally forcing himself to leave. Closing the door of the nursery, he looked to dark-haired girl standing by the opposite wall.
“Alia, was it?” He asked her.
“Alys, my Prince.” She answered with a slight bow. “From Harrenhal. Like I said, Ser Harwin brought me along when he escorted Lady Baela here once she only wanted me around her and the little dragon.”
“Mhm.” Daemon hummed, relaxing a little in her presence knowing one of his gold cloaks trusted her enough to put his daughter in her care. He and Ser Luthor would be having a long conversation when he was back in the capital. “Well, Alys, I trust you know the consequences of not caring properly for my daughter?”
“I will look after Lady Baela with utmost care, Prince Daemon, give my own life to do so if need be.” Alys said with a defiant raised chin. “She is a special child to the Old Gods. And your Gods. My purpose is to care for her.”
Daemon arched an eyebrow, not expecting the girl to be some religious fanatic; he did not like people like that but if ensuring Baela’s safety meant trusting one so he would.
“Good then. In a moon at best men from the capital, men loyal to me, will be arriving to be Baela’s protection here.” Daemon said so the girl would be prepared to receive them. “I’ll be sending some things along with them, make sure Baela safely receives and keeps them.”
“Will do, my Prince.”
“Do you know Rhea’s cousin, Ser Gerold?” He asked and the girl nodded her head in affirmation. “Would you happen to know where I could find him this late at night?”
“Considering the day of the week…” Alys started in ponderation, after the trees whispered to her, she started paying attention and noting the man's routine. “I believe tonight is one of the days he spends in the brothel by the docks.”
Daemon nodded his gratitude before turning around and left. Prowling the corridors of that dreary castle, keeping himself to the darkest corners to avoid stumbling into the guards, Daemon steeled himself for the tasks ahead. He pushed away all the good feelings from mere minutes ago, locked away those happy bright moments with his daughter, and allowed only his worst side to prevail.
It was time to be the monster people liked to say he was. To be Maegor Come Again in true. If that is what it took to ensure his girls safety and avenge all harm done to them, Daemon would gladly be the ruthless, cruel, rabid animal people saw him as.
--
Rhea was lounging in the day bed by the hearth, reading a book to tire her mind, when she heard some noise coming from outside first then inside her antechamber. Frowning, she put the book aside and picked her discarded robe to dress, she walked to the closed doors of her bedroom and opened them.
She was unable to see anything at first, the candles in the room long dead but before her vision could adjust and she could walk to the doors to check in with her guards what was the noise about, a hand wrapped around her throat. Daemon’s face came into view then, his purple eyes blazing in an anger she had never seen before; for the second time since marrying the cursed prince, Rhea feared for her life.
Daemon dragged the detestable woman back inside the bedchamber, closing the door roughly with his feet, his hand around her neck just enough to hurt and slight constrict her airways. Then he pushed her against the wall hard and tightened his hold more.
“I thought we had a deal, my dear bronze bitch.” Daemon spit angrily at her. “So pray tell, how come my daughter was almost killed? Huh? How the fuck did you allow that to happen?”
Rhea could not answer obviously, not that anything she said would make a wink of difference but he wanted to amuse himself in seeing her try anyways so with a last squeeze he finally let go of her neck. She pathetically crumbled down to the floor, wheezing and coughing while cradling her abused neck with both hands. Daemon sneered down at her before walking to the small round table with a pitcher of wine, serving himself a good glass of it.
“Ho-how did you get in?” She asked, voice weak and strained.
“Your guards are as pathetic as you.” He answered after gulping half the wine in the cup. “They won’t be waking for at least an hour. I’ll be done with you long before that.”
“Come to kill me, have you, coward? Take what is mine?” Rhea finally forced her legs to work again and stood up, raising her head defiantly, she refused to be cowered by this beastly man.
“I should do that, shouldn’t I?” Daemon mocked with a light chuckle. “Lucky for you though, I have other plans… So here’s what is actually going to happen.” He downed the rest of the wine before turning to look at her. “You will take care of your problematic disgusting family and any rats within these walls, as you should have done before forcing my daughter back here. You really ought to make sure my daughter is safe while living here, Rhea.”
“This is my castle. And my daughter. I give the orders around here as I see fit, not you.” She spit with disdain. “A leashed dog has no power to order anything to anyone.”
“A leashed dog?” He barked a laugh, not surprised her or anyone might think that. After all, he had allowed Viserys, their grandparents before him, treat him as such. “Oh dear Rhea, you have no idea how fucking free I am. Do not doubt me when I tell you I’ll extinct your whole insignificant house and burn this little piece of rock to the ground, right before I’ll kill you.”
Rhea did not doubt the glint in his eyes but she would rather try her luck putting him down right here and right now than cower in fear.
“My daughter’s safety is paramount, do you understand?” He asked before she could say anything stupid. “Or do I need to start dropping bodies for you to understand that?”
“She is mine daughter too. More importantly, she is my heir.” Rhea said hating the mocking smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “My position is more significant than yours in her life, my position weights more than yours so I’ll be the one to dictate and decide my daughter’s life.”
“You might have carried Baela in your womb for nine moons and birthed her.” Daemon walked to her, a predator cornering his prey, when her back hit the wall again and he was hovering menacingly over her he grabbed her jaw roughly. “But you were just a vessel, nothing more. She is mine and mine alone. One more thing happens to her, Rhea and I’ll make you watch this place become nothing but ashes.
I’ve given you too many chances when I should have killed you long ago. This is your last chance, Baela is the one thing staying my hand right now. Endanger her again, allow a single hair in her head be hurt and I promise you, I’ll make your sorry excuse of a life hell.”
Rhea was stunned into silence, even after he let go of her jaw she was unable to say anything, the fight drained from her body by the demonic sight in front of her. It was as if the Stranger itself was staring down at her.
“Take care of your cousin, tomorrow.” Daemon reiterated, then added. “Some of my trusted Gold Cloaks will be coming here to keep an eye on the rest of your family, and you too. They will be Baela's only guards.” In a last minute decision, unable to trust the bitch not to tarnish Baela’s views of his family, he said “I’ll also send someone from Dragonstone versed in High Valyrian and our customs to teach her the Targaryen ways, not your filthy Faith. Receive them all really well.”
Before she could find her misplaced courage again, Daemon left as swiftly as he came in. One threat dealt with, one to go.
--
Daemon had intended in only scaring the bitch’s cousin, threaten him into giving him the names of whoever else plotted Baela’s death. But when the shit acted all arrogant and courageous as Rhea did, stupidly gloating about what had almost happened at the same breath as weakly denying having anything to do with it, plans had to change.
With a quick motion Daemon hit Dark Sister’s hilt against the idiot’s head, the two of them still in the dingy back door alleyway of the brothel, then used the rope he bought from one of the workers by the docks to tightly secure the bastard.
Fortunately, Gerold frequented the “decent” brothel in the small port close to Runestone, the one frequented by men with decent coin and gold; Daemon himself had had to visit it sometimes so he knew the back alley was right by the edge of thick vegetation leading to a cluster of big tall rocks. He easily dragged the unconscious body away without no one noticing.
It took a bit of time but he finally arrived at the usual small cave Caraxes liked to make his lair in while in Runestone, his boy was calmly lounging inside of it but quickly perked up his head in curiosity.
“Some fun for us tonight, boy.” He said with a grin, leaving Gerold slumped against a boulder.
He walked the short distance to Caraxes, taking one of the skins of water from the saddlebag, drinking his fill and leaving just enough to wake the Royce cunt. Daemon took his time preparing a small fire right beside Gerold, just big enough for what he needed but not enough to draw unwanted attention. Thought the sounds about to fill the night were more likely to do that.
Once the fire was steady, Daemon threw the water on his face startling the excuse of a man awake.
“Ready to tell me who else worked with you?” Daemon asked without preambles, crouching in front of him.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, you paranoid cunt.” He spit out with a deep scowl, impressively keeping up the ruse.
“Mm.” Daemon looked him up and down until his eyes caught something interesting. He had already seen it while tying the man’s arms in front of his body so with interest he pulled the man's left hand by the injured thumb. “What happened here?”
“That little beast of that brat.” Gerold replied with utter hatred.
“A shame the little beast is too young to have sharper teeth.” Daemon said mockingly before quickly cutting the rest of the thumb with his dagger making the man howl in pain, the Valyrian steel cutting clean through flesh and bone. Then he put the dagger atop the fire for a bit, to heat it up just enough before bringing it close to the man’s skin. “That brat is my daughter, you ought to be careful how you speak of her.”
Before the Royce shit could even recover from the pain of his thumb being cut, Daemon picked up the hot dagger and once again cut straight through the other four fingers. On finger bleeding out might not do much but all five would and he could not have the little shit dying before the actual fun part begun.
“So, ready to change your answer yet?” He asked putting the dagger back on the fire, then unsheathed Dark Sister and put it on the fire as well.
“Fuck you!” Gerold exclaimed, his right hand cradling his painful mangled left hand. “You aberration, the lot of you are! I will not tell you shit! I don't know anything!”
“Well then…” Daemon smiled at him before pulling the man's right hand towards himself and picking Dark Sister. “You won’t be needing to write letters to your accomplices anyways, will you?”
In a second Gerold’s right hand was gone, the man screaming even louder, causing Caraxes to growl in irritation.
“Sorry boy, work is going to take a while.” He said turning his head to look at Caraxes with an apologetic smile. “Try not to come eat him before I’m done, alright?”
Caraxes just huffed a plume of hot smoke in annoyance before laying his long neck and big head on the ground again, keeping his sharp eyes intently on his human in case something went awry as was too often the case with his disastrous human. Despite the annoying noise from the disgusting smelly man, Caraxes did like to watch his human bloodying his hands. Their bond always flared in harmony in moments like this.
Once the Royce shit stopped mewling, Daemon pulled off his boots, threw it to the side before picking up his hand and fingers to throw them into the small fire, saving only his Royce signet ring.
“I guess you also will not need to walk to meet with your accomplices, eh?” He commented merrily.
“Just kill me already, you piece of shit! Torture won’t force me to tell you shit if I don't know nothing!.” Gerold exclaimed angrily.
“Fine, I’ll just find another way to know whoever helped you.” Daemon shrugged picking up his dagger again. “Still have to torture you though, slowly and painfully... If you thought you could try harming my daughter with no reckoning, you were wrong.”
With a wicked smirk, Daemon started pulling out his toenails one by one in the most hurtful way possible, loudly whistling to tune out the shit’s annoying screeches. Once done, it was time to cut off a toe at a time as well; sometime before throwing the last toe into the fire Caraxes made his way closer thanks to the smell of cooked meat. Before his boy could snuff out the fire trying to get to the body pieces, Daemon pushed them towards him with Dark Sister.
“As you can see, Caraxes here is hungry for some sheep meat.” Daemon said standing up with his sword in hand.
“Stop this depravity, you fuck!” Gerold screamed, eyes wide looking between Daemon and the dragon. “Just kill me already!”
“And deprive my boy from a fun game? I don’t think so.”
The loud strident screams of the Royce shit filled the night when Daemon cut off one foot and then the other, Dark Sister hot blade avoiding the wound to freely bleed but also heightening the pain. Just as with the previous body parts, he put both on the fire for a couple minutes before throwing it to a waiting Caraxes.
Human meat was not Caraxes favorite, and this human in particular tasted awful, but he would eat anyways just for the shared thrill he was feeling with his human.
The next hour passed by the same, Daemon cutting off pieces and bits of Ser Gerold Royce, then cooking it for Caraxes to eat. He would stop for a few minutes in between to give the man a break, not allowing him to pass out in pain nor bleed out, both dagger and sword always hot to cauterize the wounds. Good to his word, Daemon had to give him that, Gerold did not break, keeping the names of his accomplices well-guarded and only spewing curses at Daemon or begging to be killed.
When Daemon was finally done with him, Gerold Royce was nothing but a mangled body.
He was one forearm short on his right side while missing all fingers in his remaining left arm, a foot gone in one side and half a leg missing in the other side; all remaining members sporting missing chunks of flesh and burns Daemon made with his dagger having too much fun listening to the man curse him in all ways imaginable.
Once done with the body, Daemon went to the head: he cut off both his ears, one of his eyes – the gaping wound left needing to be deeply burned to stop the blood flow – which was the one time he allowed the little shit to finally pass out. As soon as he woke again, Daemon almost caved his nose in with three consecutive hard punches and then with a fourth broke almost all his teeth. Then his tongue was the last to be cut off since it was useless to give the information Daemon wanted.
He made sure the Royce survived through it all, felt it all, every single thing done to his miserable body. Daemon killed him after all of that by gutting him open like the sheep he was, like the assassins would have done with Baela, like this excuse of a human deserved.
Finished and entirely satisfied, Daemon sheathed both his Valyrian dagger and sword, then climbed atop at equal satisfied Caraxes, coaxing the dragon to pick up the mangled corpse with care in his claws. Out here, the body would be feasted upon by animals before anyone stumbled upon it and that would not do. Dawn was almost breaking on the horizon when Daemon dropped Gerold Royce’s body on a trail closer to Runestone he knew people walked in all the time, uncaring if anyone spotted him and his dragon.
To avoid people not identifying the corpse, Daemon climbed down Caraxes and went to the body, and shoved the signet ring with the Royce sigil inside its owner’s mouth.
“Quite the productive night, right, boy?” Daemon scratched Caraxes’ neck the way he liked before climbing back on the saddle; his own bloodied body and clothes dirtying it. “How about some real food and a nap?”
Caraxes growled his approval and propelled himself into the air, flying higher and higher towards the dawning sky.
In a day they would be reaching Kings Landing, much more work to be done there. Not only did he need to secure Rhaenyra’s protection but also her position as heir, if his stupid brother was to remarry, his niece would need all weapons necessary to help her remain heir. It was either that, Rhaenyra as heir and ascending as Queen in the future, or Daemon would have to usurp the throne from Viserys.
Daemon was many things, most of them awfully bad he could admit, but he was no usurper. He would rather not be forced to become one but if Viserys tested him a little more by further endangering their family, then Daemon would become a usurper and kinslayer gladly. At least then he could be rightly and deservedly called Maegor Reborn.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra startled awake as soon as she felt her bed dip in one side; she never truly slept easy these days anyways, not as she used to, always only a fitful sleep away from waking up at the slightest disturbance . She sat up in a hurry, mind still in a haze and blurry from sleep but she would recognize her uncle in any state.
“Kepus!” She cried out, excitedly and happy to finally see him again, just like she always felt, and was quick in throwing herself in his arms.
Rhaenyra enjoyed the warm embrace of her kepus for a few seconds, mind forgetting everything for a moment and only focusing on the all familiar heat and smell of him. But just as fast reality came crashing down on her and in the next second she pulled herself away, without really thinking Rhaenyra instinctively slapped him hard across the face, letting out both anger at his abandonment and frustration at his inability to follow her orders. Her letter could be the only explanation why he was suddenly back like this.
“Ouch.” Daemon said sarcastically to hide the surprise and pain her actions caused, it was easy to imagine why she slapped him like that. His little princess, always so fiery and ready to show her displeasure with whoever dared wrong her.
“What are you doing here?” She inquired coolly, crossing her arms and looking at him with a angry pout. “I ordered you not to come back here.”
“I had to come, little love. I needed to see you and Baela, be sure you two are alright for myself.” He replied honestly.
“Mhm.” Rhaenyra kept her expression well-guarded as she had learned to in these last moons. “Well, you saw me. I’m fine. Now you need to go back to wherever you were hiding at… You don’t belong here.”
“You don’t mean that, princess.” Daemon said, face falling and heart hurting at those words coming from her.
Her letter had sounded in a completely different way than she sounding was now. Had something else happened in the time it took him to get back? Daemon felt cut through not only at what she said but how she said it, sounding so grown up instead of the child she was.
“You have no right to feel surprise or hurt by my words nor by how I feel.” She said fighting the sting in her eyes, how she hated she was still this silly weak girl who cry so easily. “You left. I needed you and you abandoned me… Abandoned Baela. You have no right to be here.”
“Rhaenyra…” Daemon started to say and reached a hand to her but she jerked away from him, twisting the knife deeper in his heart with that. “I didn’t abandon either of you. Your father ordered me to leave, I had no choice…”
“And why was that?” She interrupted him with a hiss of anger. “Why did the king made you leave, huh? Because you were a fool and left yourself open for that Hightower leech to do what he always wanted, you gave him the perfect reason to get rid of you. You let this happen, no one else.” Rhaenyra raised her chin and looked at him with a scowl, her anger at him vanishing whatever wish to cry in a second. “Instead of being here with me when I was in pain for losing my mother. Instead of being here with your daughter, just a babe who needs a father, you were out there with your whores and lickspittles.”
Daemon clenched his jaw hard and closed his hands into fists, the same words Viserys had said coming from his niece hurt ten times more. Her contempt and anger towards him cut him deeper than any person ever did. But what could he say really when she was right? Daemon gave Otto a weapon to use against him, he gave something for that leech to poison his brother against him for good this time, to get rid of him and open all doors for his ambitions to come true.
“You left us here, alone, defenseless… I am the one that has to face them, to fight them all by myself. So yes, uncle, go on and leave again as you always do.” Rhaenyra finished cruelly. Not just because of her anger but also her fear of what the king might do if he were to find his brother back.
Rhaenyra still needed her uncle here, someone to be on her side, someone that could protect her, that would love her; she was probably always going to need him. But it was safer to be cruel and hurt him as he had hurt her.
“I’ll be leaving soon, niece.” Daemon said through clenched teeth, trying to keep himself collected and calm despite the knife her words cut deep inside. “I assume you are aware of the happenings in the Stepstones? Well, I’ll soon being going to war against the Triarchy.” He explained, looking down at her with the same cold expression she looked at him.
“What?” She asked in surprise. Despite her assumptions of his reasons in getting himself involved with this matter, Rhaenyra did not actually believed her uncle would go this far. Go to fight a war. “W-why would you…?”
“I was disinherited and replaced by you, little niece. I’ve heard the king will soon have a new wife, if the Lady Laena or some other girl, their houses will do their best to supplant you next.” He said just as cruelly, words making Rhaenyra flinch. “I never had anything handed to me, princess. I always had to fight to have what I want. If I won’t have a crown, then I'll fight to have glory.”
Daemon turned without another word and headed back towards the secret door of the keep’s tunnels, some other time he would come back to treat with her what he actually intended to but for now it was better for the two of them to cool their heads. Before he could make it very far Rhaenyra was out of bed in a flash and grabbed his wrist hard to try pulling him back; she may be angry at him and far from wanting to forgive his mistake but he was still her kepus, Rhaenyra would not let him recklessly go to war and get himself killed.
“The Stepstones is a hopeless endeavor. Father will never send support there nor aid in any fight. You will have no advantages against that Crabfeeder.”
“I have my ways, niece.” Daemon smirked coldly, glad to know she still care enough for him though. “If my plan works great, I’ll return a war hero. If it doesn’t… Well, you won’t have to bear my presence ever again, will you, princess?”
“How can you be this selfish?” She switched to their mother tongue again, to show how more serious and angry she was now, then started punching wherever she could reach.
“Rhaenyra, stop.” Daemon said grabbing her wrists as gentle as possible but strong enough to force her to stop. “Stop.”
“What about your daughter? What about me?” Rhaenyra asked looking up at him, allowing the tears to come finally, blurring her vision. “Are you really just going to leave us like this again? Go off to die in some godsforsaken island and abandon us?”
“Have a little faith in your uncle, little love.” He crouched down to stay level with her, then swiped away her tears. Though it hurt, deep down he knew he was indeed a selfish cunt just like his brother.
Daemon pulled her into him and enveloped her small body into a tight hug, his girl had barely grow anything since last time he say her, yet here she was having to act as a grown up way before she should. Thanks to his idiot of a brother, thanks to his own foolish self.
But he would do better, from now on he would be better, Daemon silently promised himself. Pulling away a little, he looked at her amethyst eyes and said seriously:
“I won’t be leaving for a few more days, Rhaenyra and I came here with a purpose.” He said.
“What do you mean?” She asked with a frown at his sudden change in demeanor.
“You said in your letter your father does nothing to help you secure this position he put you in. If he is to marry Corlys’ daughter or whoever else, that will only make things harder for you, love.”
“I know that, I’m not an idiot.” She rolled her eyes, disappointed he saw her as everyone else did.
“I know you’re not, princess.” Daemon smiled and then touched her displeased pouty mouth. “You are smart and capable. More than many your age or older.”
“Do you think so?” Rhaenyra looked at him hopefully, violet eyes wide in expectation.
“I know so, little love.” He affirmed before kissing her forehead, then he brought them back to her bed, sitting at the edge of it with her close beside him. “But you are still young, just a child still. You will need all the help possible, Rhaenyra, advantages heirs before you did not… I’ve came to give you some of that, to ensure this time you’ll be looked after while I’m gone.”
“Alright… What advantages are these?” Rhaenyra asked, interest perked up. And heart feeling warmed in a way she had not felt in a long time, her kepus care for her always did that. “Something like the maps to Maegor’s secret passages?”
“Something like that, yes.” Daemon replied with a chuckle, leaning down to give the crown of her head a kiss. “Better, I believe. But go rest for tonight, princess, in a couple days I’ll be back and explain everything to you. I still need to set some things into motion first.”
No matter her earlier words of anger, his princess needed him, both of his girls needed him and he would be better. He must. Daemon refused to commit his family’s same mistakes again, his grandfather’s, his father’s and brother’s mistakes. He once promised himself that and broke it again and again but no more, he would never again break a promise that involved his precious niece.
Notes:
A father's fury aka uncledaddy goes ballistic 😋
If I cried a little half way through writing Rhaenyra's letters its nobody's business alright 🥺
I know the letter probably feels kinda "crammed" but it was on purpose since it was written by a 8 year with a lot to say!
Since Rhaenyra wrote the letter and Laena's cousin sailed w it before word of the attack on Baela reached the capital, she could not write about it hence why Daemon only found out about it once in WesterosWe have no way of knowing the actual type of woman Rhea was since neither canon expands much on her character and as i said before I'm pretty neutral about her buuuut Baela needed a "villain" to this part of her story, so Rhea it will be 🤭
Besides her apparent willingness to remain married to Daemon cause that gave her more advantages than it gave him, even with everything he did to her, always bothered me and makes me unsympathetic regarding Daemon's actions as a husband towards her 🤷🏾♀️
Attempts to get the marriage annulled might have worked better coming from her imoAlys and her magical/witchcraft aspect is a very interesting character/storyline to me, her allegiance aside, it felt fitting for her to be Baela's "tutor" regarding her special nature. And I decided to make it more factual her being Lyonel's baseborn daughter, for the good ol' family drama hahahahaha
Plus *spoiler spoiler* without Aemond in the picture, no chances for her to go green 🤭For anyone who may not know: William Royce is one of the knights Rhaenyra sent to the dragonpit during the riots there to save her last Velaryon son, he died in the attempt to do that. No clue what he's kinship w Rhea actually was so I did my own spin on it!
Now the big question is: Was Gerold really Otto's co-conspirator or are these people missing an important puzzle piece? Place your bets 🫣Caraxes is the best boy, period ❣️
What do you think of Baela's dragon description?! I incorporated a little of canon Baela's dragon color but changed and bettered (i hope at least) some of it since it is not technically Moondancer reallyRhaenyra & Daemon going from 8 to 80 to 1 to 100 in minutes of interaction, it's what I like to see alright 😌
They're a mess already and romance is still far off the table!! hahahahahaha
I left out for now some important topics they need to have but we'll get to that more in the next chapter 😉
Any guesses what Daemon might be "arranging"/plotting?Some necessary links if you interested in checking:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/Characters' ages(if my math isnt wrong):
Daemon - 24
Rhaenyra - 8
Baela - 1 & a few months
Rhea - 27
William - 3
Alys - 17Let me know your thoughts, if you liked it leave comments & kudos, they very much welcomed and appreciated 🥹
See you in the next one 🥰❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 25: Chapter Twenty-Four: 106 AC Part IX
Notes:
Heeellooou readers!!!
Here's a new update, buckle up for some more excitement 😉The first part of the chapter we have a newly and random pov, something a little bit different!! It was actually not how I first planned it to go but when I got down to write this just got away from me 😅
Lots of scheming and planning going all around, some might not even make canonical sense but that's the beauty of fanfiction 🤗
I also played a little loose with the Red Keep layout a bit. As well as other details 🤭If it's a conniving and cunning uncledaddy (and subtle and careful for once in his life) you want, here you go!!!
High Valyrian = bold italic
See you in the end notes for some more expanding if you're interested for that sort of thing
Have a fun reading 😘
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
'Was this all life was, an endless pit of misery?' Jolene Tabet wondered for the millionth time while sitting in the same dark and dirty alleyway for the hundredth time.
Born in a poor family with a surname as inconsequential and insignificant as their lives, Jolene grew up among the rest of the insignificant smallfolk of Kings Landing already knowing like the rest of them her life would amount to very little, if anything at all. She still had a decent start of life, a good childhood, when her family was whole. It was only her, her parents and her two year older brother, Jerry.
Her father worked at the city's dock and her mother in the kitchen of a tavern, they earned little but enough to give their two children a decent life during the still thriving years of the Old King's reign. However, everything fell apart when her mother died. A bout of fever quickly started, spread and ended in the most unfortunate parts of the city, killing many suddenly and swiftly. At only ten namedays Jolene had to watch her father drown himself in drinks, working less and less, earning just enough to buy them two meals a day, sometimes not even that. They were kicked out of their house then by the landlord, forced to move to a cramped building down in Flea Bottom. Her brother, only two and ten, had to follow their father to the docks to work as well, get the slack their drunk father left so vultures circling a young girl like her would not take advantage of their poverty.
It was a rough five years until her father met a woman, a gentle soul who put him and their family back together. He started working properly again, his earnings along with her brother’s and her stepmother’s earning as a seamstress changed their life for the better again. They were able to move out of Flea Bottom to an actual house of their own. And for the next five years Jolene’s stepmother gave them three siblings, two girls and a boy, but sadly she died miscarrying her fourth child. Another such heavy loss was just too much for her father who eventually drunkenly walked into Blackwater to never be seen again.
Things went back to be hard, only her and her brother to take care of three small children in the midst of a growing poverty in the streets of the capital in the last few years of the Old King’s reign and the beginning of the reign of the new Targaryen king. Luckily Jerry remained working at the docks, earning at least something to help them survive, while she was unable to work in one place for long enough since she needed to also look after the children. Sometimes they had to ration food so they were able to eat at least one meal a day, and sometimes Jolene did not eat at all so her brother and the little ones could eat a tiny bit more.
And when Jerry recklessly impregnated some wench, the woman dropping a newborn boy in their doorstep before disappearing, Jolene found herself with little choice. Her stepmother had been so good, a second mother truly, that she did not allow Jolene to be given to the first man willing to pay nicely to marry a pretty girl; at twenty she remained pure as so very few girls in the streets of the capital were allowed to. Girls were always being sold for one reason or another. With that advantage in hand, Jolene put away her dignity and found her way into a brothel, willing to sell her body if it meant giving a chance at a decent life to her young siblings and nephew. She was smart enough to go to the better establishments instead of walking in the first one hiring, which they always were, she went to the places where highborn with plenty of coin and gold frequented.
By the whispers and rumors she heard while going from one tavern to the other in an attempt to hold a job, Jolene chose to try her luck at the establishment that was said to be owned by a woman, a former courtesan; a fancy place that was favored by Prince Daemon Targaryen himself. Her hope was that it was a place that treated girls better than other places since it was owned by a former courtesan, someone who should strive to give better conditions to her workers. At first it had been like that. Who she thought was the owner, their Mistress, sold her maidenhead for a steep price in gold dragons and silver stags paid by an old lord who had been nice enough with her. The payment was enough to give her family six moons worth of a good living. And the work she did in those moons kept their decent life.
But it was short lived since Jolene worked doing only the basics of what men seek in sex at a brothel, that did not earn her half as good as other workers there. Soon they were struggling again, and just like before her fool of a brother just made things worse by getting a girl with child again and this time it was not just a wench but someone whose father demanded him to marry his daughter. A father who was happy to throw his daughter out for good. With things stirring in the Stepstones by some Essosi prince, work in the docks and other places in the city were taking a big hit and what little her brother already earned became even less. Especially when Jerry's new wife birthed twins.
Jolene found herself killing the small dignity that remained to her, deciding to work more in the brothel. That was when she discovered that the true mistress of the establishment was someone else, a former whore as well who preferred not to be known by many preferring to work in the shadows instead, a lyseni who once had been the favorite of the Rogue Prince himself. She made the mistake of trusting the woman’s words and promises, her too trustful nature finally getting herself in a awful situation as her brother always said it would one day.
With her small height, slim body and pretty young face, Jolene could provide the clients the perfect scenario to pretend they were fucking a teenage girl, or so Lady Mysaria had claimed. Jolene felt disgusted but she thought it would not be as terrible as it ended being, Lady Mysaria did not mention that those clients who wanted that were perverse man who liked to hurt young girls. Evil man of the worst kind.
She earned better then but it was at high price. Days on end being sore, with painful bruises all over her body, energy being drained by each new man she was forced to entertain. Eventually, Jolene learned to become numb to those monsters forcing their disgusting cocks into her cunt, ass and mouth in the most hurtful of ways while beating her too, strangling her, pulling chunks of her hair… She learned to pretend not to be there while it all happened. It was worthy though to go back to a home with happy children who for moons did not went hungry a single day. At least she was lucky to have a understanding brother who did not judge her, who did not threw her out, who sometimes when drunk cried for not being able to protect her from that situation. Most girls did not had the same luck.
Yana was one of those girls, an actual teenage girl of only ten and six who looked even younger. She was thrown out of her house after her father died and her mother had to remarry when she was only two and one, her stepfather not wishing to raise another man’s child. Not only did he throw her out but sold her to some slimy man who owned one of the lowest, depraved and disgusting whorehouses. The poor girl lived in the hells for many years before Lady Mysaria bought her “freedom”.
But just like with Jolene and almost all other whores in her place, Lady Mysaria promised a better work environment and a better life, just to break those promises as soon as they became too comfortable. Being a young girl who looked almost like a child, Yana was given to men worse than the ones Jolene had to work for, men who were more beasts than humans. Man from good standing, good families, notorious Houses that hid their true self well in the light of day only to let their inner monster out during the night.
Ever since befriending Yana, trying to be a comforting presence, someone she could count on, they often would end their night shift right here. In the alleyway behind Lady Mysaria’s place. With Yana hurt bad enough between her legs she would even bleed sometimes, almost unable to walk properly; Jolene pushed her own hurt aside in favor of helping the younger girl in any way she could. That was often when she wondered if this was all life would ever be for girls like them, a pit of misery and nothing more.
“Good evening, ladies.” A deep masculine voice scared them, coming from somewhere in the darker corner of the alley.
“Who’s there?” Jolene asked with the best stern voice she could muster, standing up to protectively position herself in front of a still sat Yana.
“No need to fear.” The man said, finally stepping out of the dark and approaching them; the face of Prince Daemon Targaryen making them softly gasp. “I mean you no harm.”
“Yo-your grace.” Jolene said hastily doing a clumsy courtesy, then quickly helping Yana up.
“No need for formalities either.” Daemon shrugged them off, stepping closer.
This close he was able to better appraise their state despite the dim light, his eyes soon zeroing on the droplets of blood staining the bottom part of the dress the younger of the two wore. After a couple of days observing Mysaria’s workers, these two caught his attention more, they seemed promising for what he had planned.
“It is quite disappointing, you know?” He started again, crossing his arms behind his back. “I gave Mysaria my patronage, gave her the gold necessary to get out of this life and build a new one. When she decided she wanted to keep in the business, build her own place I helped her with that too.” He explained sincerely, both girls’ eyes almost bulging out of their skull at his words. “I really thought she was going to be better than the scum of other less than savory establishments. That she would give a decent life to her own girls, a life she for so long was not afforded… But looking at you now, I realize my believe in her was misplaced.”
Jolene did not know what to say, mind going blank at this beyond unexpected encounter. Yana though feeling the same shock, found the courage to say
“She is just like the rest of them.” She spit out with hatred.
“I assume she sells you off to men who like to hurt young pretty girls like yourselves.” Daemon mused despite being sure of that statement. “Men who pay beautifully to torture young, small and defenseless girls in secret… Does she even pay you enough for your troubles?”
“It is good payment.” Jolene said defensively to hide the shame his words caused, the anger.
“Is it worth it?” Daemon asked with an arched eyebrow, their silence and averted eyes all the answer he needed. “You probably do not have other choices to make the coin necessary to survive, right? Family to support, children to feed?” He gave them a small smile then, inviting. “What if I had an offer of a better work?”
“What work?” Yana asked warily.
“A risky one. There would be some dangers. But you would not need to lay on your backs and suffer men forcing themselves on you anymore.” He said observing them exchange a look, then he threw the last card up his sleeve to convince them. “A job in the Red Keep.”
“Why... Why us?” Jolene asked after a minute of silent pondering, now knowing better than to believe any and all promises offered.
“Although pretty, you two would easily pass unnoticed.” Daemon explained, one of the reasons they interested him. The younger one’s bright red hair could attract attention but nothing a cloth hiding it would not fix. “I need discreet and inconspicuous girls like you for this job.”
“What job?” Jolene pressed.
“I need trusted eyes and ears inside the Red Keep. Discreet people to listen in, to gather information, to pass information.” He replied. “People to snoop around, to whisper things that much needed rumors can begin among the courtiers... And of course, to do some more active work if needed.”
“Active work?” Yana asked with a frown, everything else she had actually expected, Lady Mysaria sometimes put her up to the same thing with certain clients.
“Let’s say, if I were to need some lord gone… To the Seven Hells, preferably. Then I would need people to give said lord a special drink or food.”
“You would have us kill people?” Jolene exclaimed in shock.
“Would you rather be the one killed? Because trust me when I tell you these men Mysaria sells you to will soon enough weight their hand a tad too much.” Daemon said callously. “Or she might be the one to do it anyways when you stop being useful.”
“And you wouldn’t?” Yana asked with a scowl.
“They haven’t broken your spirit yet I see. Good.” He grinned. “As long as you are loyal to me, you would have nothing to fear.”
He quietly watched them look at each other again, silently deciding between themselves, and when a couple minutes passed they looked back at him with a determination shining in their eyes.
“As long as my family is kept safe and care for, I can accept your offer, Prince Daemon.” Jolene said.
“I don’t have no family. I just don’t want no more men touching me ever again.” Yana gave her own answer.
“It is a deal.” Daemon grinned wider, then turned around to leave. “Follow me then.”
--
After taking the two girls to his house in the city so they would have a safe place to spend the night – though the older one apparently had her own home she could go back to – Daemon gave them the coin they could buy the proper clothes to go try for work at the Red Keep, then he explained where they needed to go for that and what exactly they needed to say to the head of house so they could be selected. They were always in need of more people to serve in the keep, needing the numbers to be able to diligently and properly care for a huge castle that the king himself and the royal family lived in and important people all across came by. Still, the selection was done very carefully and only the ones who fit the criteria found themselves employed by the royal family.
Daemon had spent enough time down in the kitchens or giving the servants grief while running around after him to know some of the things asked, the criteria used to select the right people. He could not get them straight in since he was sure the Hightower cunt was in charge of the castle more than his brother, so to avoid suspicions the girls needed to get themselves in like everyone else.
Hopefully by this time tomorrow they would be securely inside the Red Keep walls, moved in the servant quarters and ready to start the work for him. With that done with, and considering it was almost morning, Daemon went back to Mysaria’s establishment instead of going to visit Rhaenyra again. Tonight, early morning almost, it was time to uproot a poisonous weed from his life. To unmask an ungrateful whore.
Mysaria gasped when she entered her private room to find none other than the Rogue Prince slouching in her bed as if he had no care in the world.
“My Prince.” She said a little breathless from the scare and this unexpected visit, she had almost being convinced he was not actually in Westeros after so many days with no word of him still in Essos. “What a surprise. How did you get in?”
“You forgot to tell your people I’m no longer your most esteemed client.” Daemon answered lazily, observing her more intently and closely than he ever did.
“Of course you still are.” Mysaria chuckled, quickly regaining composure. “As I’ve said before, you will always have a place in my bed.”
“Of course.” Daemon smiled, a hallow and meaningless smile no one ever saw through but actually felt comforted by. An irony truly.
“So, to what do I own the pleasure of your visit?” Mysaria asked walking to her vanity, turning her back to him she started to undo her hair and take off her jewelry. Thankfully no one else of importance would be needing her attention that evening. “Tired from that little red-haired girl of yours?”
“Jealousy does not suit you, my dear.” He said getting up from the bed and walking to where she was, standing right behind her.
“Don’t be silly, Daemon. Why would I be jealous if you always return to me in the end?” She grinned arrogantly, looking at him through the mirror of the vanity.
Daemon clenched his jaw, Saera’s words once more ringing true. How stupid and blind was he to place his favor and trust in the wrong people, unworthy people? No wonder both Mysaria and Camellia felt so confident in betraying him so callously.
“Tell me, Mysaria.” Daemon started, no patience for any more games. “When did you start stabbing me in the back, huh? Was it recently or have you being doing it for all these years I helped you get where you are today?”
It was with satisfaction Daemon saw color drain from Mysaria’s face, her light blue eyes slightly widening in shock and for a second fear but she was quick to school her features, looking at him impassively and confused.
“I do not know what you mean, my Prince.” Mysaria said, trying her best to remain calm and figure out whatever may be the reason that caused the prince to act this way. She turned around again to face him, putting on her most soft and sensual smile. “I would not dare betray you. You said it yourself, if I am where I am today is because of you.”
“Mhm.” He hummed and then grasped her neck, not roughly nor painful, just to put the weight of his hand there. “I was blind before but now I can see how very convenient it was that the Hightower cunt was able to be aware of things I only said or did among people I thought loyal to me.” Daemon added, seeing the flicker of fear in her eyes again. “So I think you have been biting the hand the fed you for quite some time, haven't you?”
“My Prince…” Mysaria tried to say, defensively and starting to get real scared by the look in his purple eyes.
“Was it worth it, my dear?” Daemon interrupted her, pressing on her elegant long neck just the slight bit to be uncomfortable. “Did he pay you good, more than I did for years? Was only to him you sold me to or there were others?”
“I didn…”
“I should kill you right now for the slight.” He interrupted her again, putting more pressure in his grip, slowly interrupting her ability to properly breathe. “Luck for you, I’m in a rather forgiving mood tonight. So I’ll be courteous enough for all the years you comforted me and was there for me in my times of need, false as that was.” He squeezed her neck more, enough to almost entirely stop her breathing without making her pass out too quickly. “But listen very carefully… You do anything from now on that may affect my family and I will not give you a third chance.
Keep your dirty business away from my family, away from my niece and my daughter. If I even close my eyes and dream you did anything to undermine or endanger Rhaenyra with your dealings with that cunt, I will make you suffer in ways you cannot even fathom. Do you understand?”
Mysaria tried to mumble something and nod her head but his grip around her neck was too strong, and black spots were already dancing in her vision from the lack of air. With a sneer of disdain, Daemon let go of her neck roughly making her stumble back and bump into the vanity behind her.
“I provided you with all of this. I can just as easily take it all away.” Daemon said with finality before turning to leave. “Remember that the next time you think it is a good idea to stand against me.”
‘Fuck!’ Mysaria thought while watching him leave, this unexpected turn setting some plans in motions a step back; she needed to reconvene with Otto as fast as possible to plan accordingly now that Daemon made his presence known.
Once alone, she fought the tears in her eyes and the wish to scream. She owned all of this, she got where she was not because of Daemon Targaryen but because of the sweat and blood of her work. All the pain, all the humiliations, all the abuse, all the tears and shattered dreams was what provided her everything she owned today. His favor might have quickened her climb to success but she would have eventually get here anyways even without him, Mysaria knew that as much as she had known how beneficial it was to use such favor.
That, his favor and “help” never mattered to her, not even her feelings for him had mattered, it was all a means to an end. Achieving her goals was all that mattered. Now she had half of it already and she would only gain more by allying herself with the Lord Hand, him unlike Daemon was ready to dirty his hands in the game for the throne. He would get his blood on the throne soon enough and Mysaria’s help in that would ensure all she ever dreamed of came truth.
If Daemon Targaryen thought his little meaningless threats would stop her in any way he was proving to still be the same blind fool he always was. Just like his brother, Daemon never really learned and only ever remained in the same path. A path that would lead to his doom and his enemies rise to glory.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra watched aunt Amanda leave her muña’s chambers with the last chests, small and big ones, containing her muña’s possessions; five of the maids her aunt brought from the Vale carried the chests with utmost care while she instructed them where to take each one.
Now the chambers looked more like the Queen’s chambers than Queen Aemma’s chambers. Despite the furniture remaining the same she had always known, her muña’s absence and the lack of her things turned it into a common and strange room.
“This could soon be your new room.” Amara said to Laena, the glint in her eyes signaling a test, a challenge. She quickly found out her cousin was as sharp and witted as her aunt. “What do you think of it?”
“Even if I were to marry King Viserys, I would rather have other rooms.” Laena replied without hesitation, sporting a frown. “It would feel disrespectful to take Queen Aemma’s.”
“It does not matter.” Rhaenyra commented and gave them a small smile, deciding to finally tell Laena of her father’s decision. “If father keeps his word, he will not be marrying again. Not for a long while.”
“Really?” Laena gawked at the princess, hope blooming in her chest.
“Yes, he talked with me about it last moon. Father wishes to focus on the realm and preparing me for my role as heir.” Rhaenyra answered with a feigned confidence.
Even though she hoped her father would keep his word, Rhaenyra could not truly trust him. She hoped for it just because it would mean one less obstacle, one less threat, to the hard path of a girl heir and her future ascension as Queen, but not for the hope the king would finally do better as a father. That hope, that love, was long gone in Rhaenyra’s heart.
“This must be my week of good news.” Laena said with a light chuckle.
“The king’s council will still insist he has more children though.” Amara commented with a pensive expression.
“He said that is why he could not promise to never marry but he could push it far into the future instead.” She explained, and wondered if the meeting the king called for that afternoon would be for him to finally officially say that to his small council.
“Well then, let us hope by then I’ll have found another match.” Laena commented in even higher spirits, a weight lifting from her shoulder. “Luckily one of my own liking and choosing.” 'Someone that will take me far away from Driftmark' she added silently in her mind
“Better you as the new queen than some grasping lady our cousin could not trust.” Amara retorted.
“Then let us hope father ends up never ever marrying.” Rhaenyra said to avoid her cousins butting heads again, they were doing that quite a bit lately and she could honestly not understand why. Then she turned her eyes to Laena. “What other good news did you get?"
“Oh.” Laena smiled even wider. “Mother told Laenor and I this week her decision to try for a child again.”
“Oh… You would like a sibling, then?” Rhaenyra asked surprised by both the news and Laena excitement.
“I would yes, Laenor not so much.” She answered with a giggle remembering Laenor's tantrum over the possibility of another young sibling.
“But aren’t you parents’ marriage in a crisis or something?” Amara asked with a arched eyebrow.
Before Laena could answer something, a guard from the Velaryon household was announced by Rhaenyra’s white knight; Princess Rhaenys was summoning Laena for them to have lunch together.
“Do either of you want to come eat with us?’ Laena asked cordially, standing from the ottoman she was sitting on.
“No, thank you, cousin.” Rhaenyra quickly answered, not hungry at all despite been hours since she broke her fast.
“Are you sure, cousin?” Both Laena and Amara asked.
“Yes, I had a good breakfast earlier.” She answered not lying, for she ate more than usual thanks to aunt Amanda’s threat to force the food down her throat otherwise.
“You want to come?” Laena then asked Amara, their almost disagreement already forgotten, as was often the case. They bickered as fast as they made peace.
“Aye, I’m starving!” Amara stood up, unlike Rhaenyra and Laena she had quite the appetite at all hours.
“I think mother and Laenor will go to the Dragonpit later today, you should come with us to visit Syrax too.” Laena suggested with a gentle smile.
“Say yes, cousin. I would love for the Princess Rhaenys to take me flying.” Amara smiled excitedly.
Rhaenyra smiled even though she knew what exactly they were doing, it was their way of trying to cheer her up and distracting her from the constant thoughts about Baela.
“Sure. I’ll be on my room after the small council meeting, come pick me up there.” She answered because it would be nice to visit Syrax in the light of day for a change, fly with her girl after too many weeks since their last flight.
Her golden girl deserved it and much more after her heroics in saving her little Baela.
Her cousins nodded before leaving the chambers too, chattering animatedly between themselves. Rhaenyra let out a sigh and looked over the empty bed room, sad in seeing the place so empty, so devoid of life, another irreversible sign Aemma Arryn was truly gone.
The princess shook her head to dispel the sad thoughts. Ever since the Fourteen answered her prayers to keep both Syrax and Baela safe – and brought Uncle Daemon safely back to her on top of it – Rhaenyra has been trying to be more positive and push the sad, dark and painful thoughts to the back of her mind. Baela being safe, or as safe as possible given the circumstances, and with a newly hatched dragon by her side in Runestone must have been a sign Rhaenyra should not allow herself to fall down as she had done for weeks. To her great sadness, Anora’s life had been the blood price the gods took as payment.
Standing up, she gave the room a last look, the last one for a very long time, then walked to leave.
“Ser Criston, I wish to have some fresh air in the Godswood until the small council begins.” Rhaenyra said to her sworn shield standing guard outside who quickly acquiesce to her wish with a bow of agreement, then fell into step behind her.
--
Laid down on the well-maintained grass surrounding the Weirwood tree, Rhaenyra drew shapes in the clouds peaking through the red leaves of the tree with her imagination as an attempt to distract her mind from thoughts of her cousin and uncle. Thoughts of whether Baela was truly doing fine as her bitch of a mother claimed in letters – the words on paper sounded so rehearsed and false Rhaenyra could not avoid worrying.
Despite pleading for hours and days to her father to let her go to the Vale, to Runestone, to see Baela for herself, King Viserys refused in fear his daughter might be attacked on the road as well. When Syrax returned he also refused Rhaenyra’s plea to let her fly there instead, this time with little explanation other than that he would not allow it either. So now Rhaenyra would have to wait until Jeyne’s nameday in too many moons as to have a plausible excuse to travel to the Vale. Until then she could only pray and hope the bronze bitch’s word held some truth to it; or that maybe she was hiding that Baela and her newborn dragon were giving her hell. Rhaenyra grinned, liking the second option better.
Thinking of that also made her wonder if uncle Daemon was finally visiting her that night.
It has been three days since he first appeared in her room, back in Westeros despite her order for him not to come back yet, and she felt anxious to see him again so she could talk about Baela this time. In her emotional state Rhaenyra forgot about bringing the matter to his attention last time, if he read her letter then he knew Baela was back at Runestone but not that she was attacked. Maybe it would be better if he did not know though or else people, innocent or not, would be dying by either Caraxes' fire or Dark Sister.
“My Princess.” Ser Criston’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.
“Yes, good Ser?” Rhaenyra asked, sitting up to look at him.
“The Small Council is about to start, Princess, Ser Harrold came to bring you to the council chambers.” He answered, then offered a hand to help her up.
“Let us go, then.” Rhaenyra said after cleaning and straightening the creases in her dress.
Rhaenyra walked through the keep towards the small council chambers, the clanking of armor sounding from both Kingsguard walking a step behind her. People looked at her with interest, noting the change in her demeanor in the last week, gone was the gloomy and sad girl; the Princess Rhaenyra they used to know back but with a different air about her. More mature and wizened, it seemed to some.
--
Viserys observed the city, looking out from the big widows of the Small Council chambers, solemly and feeling out of sorts for the discussion ahead.
Yesterday afternoon, Mellos came to him once again with information about the Hand’s correspondence with his brother, the Lord Hightower, about a possible betrothal of his daughter with a minor lord of the Reach. As to avoid further problems, Viserys had to ask the Grandmaester to hasten the examination of Lady Alicent and so the pregnancy was confirmed.
Though it still seemed too early in Viserys' experience, after watching Aemma go through so many pregnancies, he was no maester to truly know of this subject. Nonetheless, it was a good thing they found this early on, that way they could prepare an enough adequate wedding in the couple moons afforded to them before Alicent’s belly started to swell.
Viserys then spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the previous night in talks with Otto; he felt uncomfortable and ashamed to breach such topic with his friend regarding dishonoring his daughter in such a way but thankfully Otto proved once again to be the level-headed and rational man Viserys knew him to be. His friend took the news in stride, being honest in his sadness things happened in the wrong order of things but that he would not begrudge his daughter and king feelings for each other.
Viserys of course did not mention his feelings for Alicent did not go beyond the fondness and gratefulness for someone who has listened and comforted him in his worst days. Perhaps he might grow to care for her more in the years to come or maybe not but he would do right by her either way.
He and his hand then spent hours talking about the necessary measures to be taken considering everything, not only the usual matters regarding such a high marriage, but also the curbing of the rumors that were sure to start about the hasty marriage. And also about how to best deal with the lords who would surely fell slighted by not having the chance to present their daughters to be considered in the first place – Lord Corlys specially – and the talks about disrespecting the mourning period.
That was what weighted heavier inside Viserys, the shame and guilty of dishonoring his beloved Aemma’s memory like this. He wished he did not had to but he was left without options. Now he could only hope Rhaenyra would not again throw a tantrum before he could even explain his side to her, as much as Viserys wished to talk privately and first with her, the clock was ticking so it was better to get it all out of the way in one go. And since Rhaenyra refused to have any celebration in honor of her nameday in just a fortnight, there would be nothing for her to do to distract her mind from any upset feelings anyways.
When the doors to the council chambers opened and the men started to fill in, Viserys sighed tiredly and looked up at the sky, sending a silent apology to his dear Aemma. Then he turned to face his councilmembers, avoiding to look to the side where his Hand sat at his usual chair and the Lady Alicent stood behind.
“Good morrow, my lords.” Viserys greeted them once they were all sat, then walked to his own chair at the head of the table, remaining standing though.
The doors opened again just a second before having closed and Rhaenyra entered with Ser Harrold behind her. Rhaenyra walked to her usual spot between the table and the cart of wine, a few steps behind the chair Uncle Daemon used to sit when attending these meetings. As humiliating as it was, Rhaenyra had no other option until the king deemed fit to allow her a sit at the table instead of filling his men’s cups.
“Thank you all for coming. It is a last minute meeting but I have an important announcement to make.” Viserys said, avoiding to look to either side where his daughter, the Hand and future wife stood. “And we ought to plan to it accordingly, as soon as possible. There will be no time for discussions, only preparations.” He said in an attempt to alert them beforehand so they would not jump into unnecessary discussions that would only waste precious time.
Rhaenyra tried to keep a neutral expression, starting to feel lighter that her father would not only announce he would not be marrying but also talk about his intention to properly prepare her as heir from now on. Violet eyes focused on the King, the princess did not see the Lord Hand failing in keeping a smug smirk from showing on his face, eye glinting in victory just as much as his daughter’s.
“I have decided to take a new wife.” Viserys finally said, dousing Rhaenyra in hot burning flames with those words. “I intend to marry the Lady Alicent Hightower before the season’s end.”
The room went utterly still and silent as if frozen in time, all councilmembers aside from the Hand and the Grandmaester lost and confused at those words for a minute. When the words finally sunk in, Lord Corlys stood up so quickly and angered the chair fell off behind him, the noise reverberating through the chamber loudly.
“This is an absurdity.” Corlys hissed, face distorted in pure fury. “You will pass over my daughter for a nobody? A second son’s daughter who brings no advantages to the crown?” He questioned harshly, wishing he could leap on the King and just take the damn crown from his unworthy head. “My house is Valyrian, the richest house in the realm. The greatest naval power this side of the Narrow Sea.”
“I am the King.” Viserys said, tilting his chin up, it was time to put the Velaryon in his place before it was too late. “My will and words are the law. And you will follow them.”
Before Lord Corlys could retort back, or indeed jump on the king, Rhaenyra’s mind finally stopped spinning. Her shock for that declaration vanishing and in it is place an anger bigger than anyone there took its place. Rhaenyra could now understand, she could finally see the bigger picture that her mind was unable to even fathom before.
“Is this why you have been sneaking into my father’s chambers in the middle of the night?” Rhaenyra asked looking straight at Alicent, both her and their fathers paling in a second.
“H-ho-how…?” Viserys started asking, dumbfounded by his daughter revelation of knowing that. First her knowledge of how Aemma died and now this too?
“You knew you had no chance to be even considered as the King’s future wife so you whored yourself for a crown instead?” She interrupted her father, still looking at a rapidly teary-eyed and trembling Alicent before turning her eyes to the gaping Hand. “Or was it you who thought right to whore your own daughter for a crown?”
“This is outrageous!” Lord Corlys exclaimed, despite his dark skin a rosy hue appeared in his face at all the anger and indignation he was feeling, blue eyes shining in pure hatred while looking at his wife's cousin. “Here I naively thought you could sink no lower as a king.”
“Your Grace, perhaps…” Otto finally snapped out of his own shock and quickly stood as well in an attempt to shield Alicent, she was too weak to face such situation without worsening things. But before he could try suggest they ended the meeting for the moment or both Princess and Velaryon lord were escorted out of the room, Rhaenyra spoke again.
“Have you no decency, Lord Hand?” She asked loudly, hoping people might be passing outside to hear her next words. “Whoring your own daughter for a crown?”
“Gods be good.” Lord Lyman whispered, not only for the little princess words but for the unfolding of information. He could not begin to start rationalizing what was happening. The Old King would weep at the disgrace his grandson was causing, the old lord was able to think at least that for certain.
“Rhaenyra!” Viserys almost screamed, appalled by his daughters choice of words. Once again resenting his allowing of her spending too long around Daemon. “I will not have you speaking such foul language! No matter your feelings at the moment, you will show my Hand and Lady Alicent respect.”
“She is no lady.” Rhaenyra sneered looking at her father with disgust. “She is just your whore. A cunt just like her leech of a father!”
“A whore who is no doubt heavy with child.” Lord Corlys was the next to sneer towards the girl in question, uncaring she looked ready to faint. “Why else decide for such weak and disgraceful marriage?”
“Lord Corlys, the Lady Alicent will bring much advantages to the Crown…” The Grandmaester tried his defense but he also was cut short by the Princess.
“A whore becoming queen, how advantageous.” She scowled down at the grey rat.
“Rhaenyra, I’ll not warn you again.” Viserys said stepping towards her, running out of patience with her attitude, before looking at Corlys as well. “Nor you Lord Corlys. I've had enough. Lady Alicent is a highborn lady, of fine breed from a great house, she is a good choice of bride as any and will make a fine queen."
“If she is such a good lady then why was she alone with you way past the hour of the wolf? Is that truly a ladies behavior?” Rhaenyra questioned crossing her arms, making the Hand’s jaw clenching in anger by continuing to bring that up.
“Lady Alicent was simply making me some company, reading to me in my hour of need as she once did to King Jaehaerys…” Viserys tried to explain, with the information revealed, they would now need to find a way to mitigate that the best way possible.
“King Jaehaerys was half dead, father.” She retorted with a roll of her eyes.
“That is why people would not see this innocently, Princess Rhaenyra, they like their gossips too much after all.” Otto said, it was not the best solution but it would do for now until they could come up with a more palatable lie.
“It was most improper behavior, true but if our king says nothing untoward happened, then it is certainly the truth.” Grandmaester Mellos added.
“I apologize, sire, but if that is so then why marry the girl?” Lord Strong finally spoke, having enough time to think and as Lord Corlys pointed, there was truly only one viable explanation. “If the lady is pregnant we would not judge you, my king, but we ought…”
“My daughter is not with child, my lords.” Otto said vehemently, the truth of it making it easier to say the words without raising more suspicions.
“No, she is not.” Viserys quickly agreed. “Despite Lord Corlys and my daughter’s overreaction, I assure you all nothing of that nature happened. Lady Alicent and I grew fond of each other though, which is why I chose her as the better prospect as my future Queen.”
“Have you no shame in disrespecting my mother’s tittle giving it to a whore?!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, almost screamed really, losing all sense as the seconds passed and the full weight and implications of it all settled in.
“Rhaenyra, I’m telling you, stop this behavior right this instant.”
“Perhaps, it would be better to conclude the session for today.” Otto said, eager to have a minute to think how to best put things back together. “Allow ourselves to calm down and have some clearer heads tomorrow.”
“I’m thinking very clearly, Ser Otto and I see right through this plot of yours.” Rhaenyra hissed at him, an almost draconic snarl forming in her lips.
“Princess, we all know how painful these moons have been for you with a loss such as that of your mother…” Grandmaester Mellos started, using his most slow and soft voice.
“DO NOT BRING MY MOTHER INTO THIS YOU VERMIN!” This time Rhaenyra did scream, a screech really that matched the one Syrax let out from her lair in the pit at sensing its rider’s distress.
“Rhaenyra, this is unacceptable!” Viserys exclaimed, losing his patience for good, grabbing her by the shoulder. Ser Harrold quickly went to the doors, opening it before he could even quicker get the princess out of there, things were spiraling too fast out of control. “Go to your chambers right now! You will be thinking very carefully about this behavior. I’ll not have my daughter…”
“Fine, Your Holy Highness.” She wrenched herself from his touch roughly and looked up at him with nothing but contempt in her violet eyes. “You want to marry your whore, father, go ahead then and taint our family with this filth.” Rhaenyra spit the word in the direction of the Hightowers, before looking back at her father again she caught sight of eyes outside the chamber, no one else had noticed the Kingsguard opening the doors to the prying eyes and ears of people. She smirked widely and added loudly again “You’re the King after all, you can do whatever you want, right? Order the Queen butchered open for a babe and replace her with a whore!"
Without giving time for anyone to react, Rhaenyra turned and fled the chamber, small legs carrying her fast through the halls while she allowed herself to let tears of anger fall down her cheeks. How dare he? How dare he tarnish her mother’s memory like this? How dare he kill her and think it right to replace her with a despoiled whore?
If Alicent and Otto Hightower thought they would get her mother’s crown this easily, playing dirty and indecently, Rhaenyra will make them regret ever stepping foot in the Red Keep. They will regret besmirching Queen Aemma’s memory and hard fought life. And so would the king.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon observed the barracks of the City Watch by the Dragon Gate from the shadows, waiting Ser Luthor to arrive from the Red Keep Barracks on the time they had agreed previously. He watched attentively the faces of the gold cloaks coming and going from the barrack, many faces he was familiar with from his tenure as Commander but there were a few unknown faces of new recruits.
From what Ser Luthor said, these new recruits were all young knights, most born from a good house and with a good name, all apparently vouched by the Hand per their own words. Despite knowing better than to trust green boys sent by the Lord Hand, Ser Luthor did not had many options but accept them into the ranks. Daemon did not begrudge the man for it, not even a year has passed and the City Watch was already crumbling back to the place Daemon initial raised it from.
His most trusted gold cloak was doing an admirable work under the circumstances, which is why he denied Ser Luthor’s wish to join him in the Stepstones. Daemon needed the knight in the capital, in the City Watch, close where he could do the work Daemon required of him. As soon as he arrived from Runestone, Ser Luthor was the first person he went after, seeking truthful answers about all events he lost while away and to confide in the man about his plans. During that first night, they spent hours talking and planning. Ser Luthor was the one to write down the list of gold cloaks Daemon could sneak to Runestone without drawing attention, as well as the men who would rather follow Daemon to his war than remain in the City Watch. Their numbers would go down and open more opportunity for the Hand to get his chosen men inside as he was clearly aiming for but that was a problem Daemon could easily solve later on. He had to focus on other priorities for now.
Once Daemon revealed his plan to put Ser Luthor in charge of communicating with the girls he put inside the Red Keep, and also to be the one Rhaenyra could seek if she needed anything, Ser Luthor mentioned the few gold cloaks he could trust to share the work with him. Going over the names, Daemon chose only four:
Ser Balon Byrch, the Captain of the Old Gate, a knight as experienced as Ser Luthor who had never being recognized in the ranks before Daemon became Commander and named him Captain; Ser Neal Hayford, a Lieutenant in the Dragon Gate who he once trained together in their youth, one of the very few boys he considered a ‘friend’ back then; Harlan Waters, a young boy who was vicious in his ascent within the ranks and was even more vicious in his loyalty to the former Commander who gave him the highest honor and life a bastard could dream of; and lastly Ser Harwin Strong, who Daemon thought could be a good asset in and outside the Red Keep since he had an easier asses to the castle than the others.
When Ser Luthor appeared and made his way into the barracks, he had already called a meeting with the four other men and was going to lead them to the agreed place, Daemon smirked at the hulking man’s punctuality before stepping further back in the shadows and then walking away to where Ser Luthor would lead the men to him. Daemon waited a few more minutes at the dead end of a street before his men finally arrived.
“Well, well, the prodigal son returns.” Ser Neal said ironically but glad to see the prince still in one piece.
“Father did mention King Viserys worries about you being back in Westeros, my Prince.” Ser Harwin commented off-handily.
“My brother ought to be worried.” Daemon smirked then gave a nod to the Strong heir. “Thank you, Ser Harwin, for escorting my daughter safely to Runestone.”
“It was an honor, Prince Daemon. Me and the other boys would have stayed there if we could, it did not seem a very hospitable place for a child.”
“It is now.” Daemon said smirking wider, in that deathly way that resembled his own dragon. “I took care of it.”
“Creating chaos so soon after being back, I assume you do not intend to stay long?” Ser Balon asked astutely guessing the prince likely killed someone in his 'taking care of things'.
“No, I do not, Ser Balon. I’ll be soon going to war with that Myrish scum terrorizing our shores.”
“Without the King’s leave?” Ser Harwin asked, knowing more than the others of the goings inside the Keep.
“If the King is not going to do shit, then it falls to me to protect what belongs to my family.” Daemon replied not hiding the disdain when referring to his brother. “Enough with the chatter, boys. I have more to take care of before leaving, so if you would follow me… I have a task for you.”
Already knowing most of his plans, Ser Luthor followed after the prince without question, the others hesitating just for a second to exchange a look between themselves before readily following as well. Daemon lead them through the darkest and less used streets towards the intended destination, only men too lost in drink and other substances to notice anything littered the dark corners.
As secure as the Red Keep was, the castle still had a couple weak points but just as the secret passages they were either forgotten or not known, and Daemon knew of them as well. One such weak point was a long forgotten entrance at the bottom of the castle, right by the sandy shore facing the Blackwater and almost hidden away due its placement – only ships passing by could actually have a view of it but would be too distant for sailors to pay attention to it anyways – it was an old entrance to the catacombs bellow the Red Keep where the dragons skulls were stored. Thanks to it being the place Vhagar once liked to nest when his father became her rider, the people in the castle who knew of the entrance stopped ever going there and so eventually the entrance was lost to memory.
However, Daemon would never forget the times his father took him there to visit the dragon, those times when Prince Baelon was less lost in his own grief and tried to pay proper attention to his younger son, it was Daemon best childhood memories. Ever since his death, Vhagar had disappeared somewhere far from the capital so the entrance was safe to be used again. Considering the danger that information held, it was paramount the chosen men to be of utmost loyalty, trustworthy ten times more than the rest. Hence the small number Daemon settled for.
When they reached their destination, the men looked around warily and then questioningly at the prince; the only source of light was the moon which only made the place scarier. Daemon walked to where the old rusted iron door stood before looking at the men.
“As you know, my brother named my niece, Princess Rhaenyra, his heir. What some of you, except Ser Harwin and Ser Neal perhaps, does not know is that he does nothing to actually prepare and secure her position.” Daemon started, crossing his hand in front of him. “Unlike what some might think, I do not begrudge his choice and I do support my niece as heir. The King plays blind to the danger Rhaenyra is in and if rumors are true, he will soon marry again.”
“It is not even a full year of the mourning period for Queen Aemma yet.” Ser Neal said with a frown, displeased at such a lack of respect.
“The King is quite blind and stupid, I’m afraid.” Daemon snorted humorlessly. “So this, securing and protecting Rhaenyra is also a responsibility that falls to me. It is why I brought you here, I’ll give you a very important task. A task no one can know about, a task you either do it accordingly or you will meet Dark Sister’s blade.” He explained watching their reactions carefully. “This door leads to the catacombs here below the Red Keep, from there you can get inside the castle. You will not be going inside though, unless necessary.”
“Why are you showing it to us then, my Prince?” Harlan asked curiously, despite his vicious tendencies, he was still a boy just out of childhood with a curious and shy personality.
“The Commander wants us to be the bridge between him and the servants he put inside the Red Keep to work as his informants, the bridge between the city and Princess Rhaenyra.” Ser Luthor was the one to answer.
“Aye.” Daemon confirmed with a nod. “Earlier today two girls in my employ became maids in the Red Keep. They will be my eyes and ears inside. Whenever they have something important or useful to report, they will meet with you here and you will see to it that the information gets to me. Or depending of the urgency, take care of the problem yourselves.” He said arching his eyebrow suggestively at them. “Also, whenever I need something delivered to my niece, I’ll send it to you and you will give it to one of the girls for them to pass along.”
“And if anything happens to the Princess, it will be our task to smuggle her out to safety.” Ser Luthor added.
“If something happens to the Princess…?” Ser Neal repeated the words, looking cautiously between the two men.
“Come now, Neal, you lived long enough in court to know of its dirty ways.” Daemon said with a roll of his eyes. “When my brother remarries, whoever the unlucky lady may be, her family will want their blood on the throne, not my niece.”
“If the King’s new wife births a son, then your brother will name him heir. It isn’t that why he’s remarrying?” Ser Balon asked a little confused.
“Son or no son, Viserys will keep Rhaenyra as his heir.” Daemon replied with certainty of that once more.
“If so, then the king’s wife family might want to try getting rid of the Princess.” Ser Neal concluded, finally understanding.
“Why would the King marry at all then if it meant endangering his daughter?” Harlan thought out loud and quickly paled when all eyes turned to him, it was well known how bad the prince reacted when his brother was bad-mouthed in any way.
“Like I said, my brother is blind and stupid.” Daemon shrugged making the younger boy sigh in relief, then he turned to open the door, its rusted hinges loudly protesting against it. “Ser Luthor already knows who the girls are and I already informed them of the path they must take to get here when needed.” He turned back to look at them. “He will be in charge of this task, organizing your nightly patrols here, you extra payment for the work and everything else. And he also will discuss with you all details of other plans I have in place. Follow his orders as if it was said by my own mouth.”
“Yes, Commander!” They all said in agreement.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon passed by Balerion’s shrine, giving the dragon’s skull a small nod in reverence of the symbol it still represented to his House, then walked through the other chamber with all other dragon skulls and then climbed the stairs towards the upper level of the keep.
The floor right above the catacombs was where old furniture and less than valuable objects were left at and was rarely guarded, the keep’s knights only patrolling it every once in a while but the next floor that housed the chamber with all the Crowns and House Targaryen most precious artefacts as well as the treasury was heavily guarded. At least two dozen or more guards were stationed there at all times.
Passing through there unnoticed was impossible but fortunately for Daemon there was a secret door just by the corner before entering the hall, hidden away in an alcove behind a stone statue depicting the three Conquerors. This part of the tunnels were a bit tricky to walk through, the wood and stone worn out and not build as carefully, one step wrong and his foot might dig a hole big enough for him to fall through; or rusted wood and misplaced bricks might fall on his head. He walked slowly, all focus on each step and to avoid touching the walls too much in the too narrow space, especially with the torch he was carrying that could set the wood on fire.
Thankfully Rhaenyra would not need to sneak down through this path, being able to freely go down to the catacombs with the excuse to visit the dragons’ shrine if she needed. Daemon would advise her though to do that, go down to meet with his men, only if extremely necessary as to avoid any risks; if they were to be found in anyway, better the blame fall entirely on his shoulders.
As new recruits in the keep Daemon knew the two girls he employed would be put to work with the maintenance of those two lower levels, as all new recruits did, so it would be easy for them as well to go down to the catacombs without raising suspicions. Once their period of learning was over in a few moons, the two of them and Ser Luthor would be responsible to come up with a new way to make their meetings happen.
It was with a relieved sigh Daemon entered the better constructed part of the secret tunnels, from there it was a quick and easy walk into the tunnels behind the walls of Maegor’s Holdfast. Then into his niece’s chambers. Daemon opened the secret door and stepping into Rhaenyra’s bedroom he found her pacing around, agitatedly rolling her rings around her fingers and a wide-eyed look in her face.
“Rhaenyra.” Daemon called for her, tensing in apprehension of whatever might have happened to leave her like this. “What happened, love?”
“Kepus!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, forgetting about being discreet so her knight outside would not hear anything, then she run to him.
She encircled her arms around his waist and hugged her uncle tightly, breathing in the familiar comforting smell of leather, dragon and something spicy that was uniquely Uncle Daemon.
“Talk to me, princess.” Daemon said again before picking her up in his arms, looking at her reddened eyes in worry. With her in his arms like this, it became stark obvious how lighter his niece was than he remembered. “What happened, love? Are you hurt?”
“He is going to marry her, kepus.” Rhaenyra sniffed and then hid her face in the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see her crying red face. “Father is marrying the Hightower whore.”
Daemon brain went blank with her words, all thoughts stopping and body going numb for a second. It took a moment for his lost mind to make sense of what Rhaenyra said, for the words meaning to really sink in. Once that happened, everything came rushing back all at once.
“What?” He asked, hand touching Rhaenyra’s jaw to make her look at him. “Little mousy Alicent? Viserys his marrying Alicent Hightower?”
“Yes. He announced it in the Small Council this afternoon.” She answered with a scowl remembering it. “He plans for it to happen in just a couple moons.”
“Fucking piece of shit!” Daemon hissed angrily, unsure whether speaking of Viserys or his leech of a Hand.
He walked to Rhaenyra’s bed and put her on it, not trusting himself with her in his arms at that moment, then Daemon was the one who started pacing. How could his brother be this stupid? Was Viserys seriously this far gone by Otto’s manipulations to decide something so foolish? ‘I should have fucked that bitch and ruined her life when I had a chance.’ Daemon thought angrily, if only he had known the Hightower girl posed any danger beyond being Otto’s mousy unnoticeable daughter. Alas, Daemon never could have imagined this happening, the Hightower cunt going this far for his ambitions. Because that could only be it, he must have found a way to whore his own daughter to Viserys without no one knowing so he could get himself a crown by proxy.
“The bitch must be carrying some half-breed abomination.” Daemon thought out loud, not stopping his pacing until Rhaenyra spoke.
“That is what aunt Amanda thinks.” She said making a disgusted face imagining having a half sibling from that whore’s womb. “And the Velaryons too. Lord Strong and Lord Beesbury as well.” She added then grinned. “People in the keep must be assuming the same too by now.”
“What? Did he made a spectacle announcing it in court too?” Daemon asked already wishing to strangle his brother if he really dared do such a thing, taint the place where their ancestor's throne was.
“No, but I made sure anyone walking by the council chamber would hear about how the Hightower whore was visiting the king late at night.” She answered grinning proudly of herself.
“How…” Daemon almost asked but then remembered her letter and the mention of the secret tunnels, he smiled with pride as well. “Really making good use of Maegor’s passages, aren’t you?”
“Yes. That is how I heard about muña’s death. And then saw the two of them talking in father’s chambers." Rhaenyra explained, lips thinning in anger and frustration at herself. "I did not say anything to anyone before because I thought she was just achieving something as big as bedding the king. She used to be so nice to me, it did not feel right to tarnish her reputation over nothing… I did not think…” She stopped with another sniff and looked down, feeling like crying again for her own foolish naivety. If she had said something then maybe the whore would have been sent to the Silent Sister by now.
“Hey, hey, little love.” Daemon kneeled in front of her, cradling her face with his hand and caressing her cheek softly with his thumb. “You could haven’t known this would happen. You were not even supposed to know whatever went inside Viserys’ room. This is not your fault.”
“It feels like it.” Rhaenyra said then looked up at his purple eyes. “He killed mother, kepus. He let the grandmaester cut her open.”
Daemon closed his eyes and sighed, feeling once more despondent for Rhaenyra having found about that before the right time, before being old enough to know such horrible thing. He stood up before sitting on the bed as well and then gathering Rhaenyra in his arms, siting her on his lap.
“I’m sorry, love. You were not supposed to know that.”
“You knew?” Rhaenyra asked looking at him with indignation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You should not know of what your father did to your mother right now, Rhaenyra, you’re too young to know that.” Daemon replied with a tired sigh. “This is not what you should be thinking of Aemma… I would have told you once you were older but right now… This is not what you should remember of her.”
“It is already all I remember of muña, kepus.” She retorted sadly, snuggling against his chest. The day had been so exhausting. “Always pregnant. Always too weak and sick to give me much of her time… But that still should not have been how she died.”
“No, it should not have been.” Daemon swallowed drily, imagining the horrific last moments of his cousin’s life. He decided to change topic instead, needing to know if his brother had not hide something else from Rhaenyra. “You heard about the attack on Baela, right?”
“Oh…” Rhaenyra pulled away, surprised at his question and blushing over her initial plan not to tell him about it. “How do you know about it?”
“I went to Runestone first to make sure the bronze bitch was treating my daughter right. I found on the way there.” He answered, making Rhaenyra unconsciously pout and her violet eyes glint with displeasure, the usual way she got whenever jealous of something taking his attention from her.
“How is she?” She asked anyways, hopefully that kepus being here meant Baela was all right.
“Good. Her beautiful dragon will protect her well now.”
“I’ll visit the Vale for cousin Jeyne’s nameday. I don’t care what father says, I’ll go to Runestone too to see Baela.” She said petulantly.
“Do that, love. I’m sure she miss you.” Daemon kissed her forehead. “Besides, I took care of Gerold Royce, he won’t be much of a treat… Or anything at all anymore.”
“Was he really the one to order the attack?” Rhaenyra asked with interest. “Father and the council thought that too but could not find any proof.”
“He was one of them, I’m sure.” Daemon shrugged, he did not have any proof either and never got a proper confession but he knew the shit was the culprit, he could not think of anyone else who would benefit from it as much as that Royce. “Didn’t get a chance for a confession or the names of others involved before killing the vermin though.”
“I knew people would die if you found about it.” She said with a giggle.
Daemon smirked at her, then pulled her small body into his chest, burying his nose into the top of her gold-silver hair. It was so hard to leave when all he wanted was to take her and his daughter away from all this, somewhere safe and far from everything where they could be happy. Go somewhere where they could live a life of peace instead of a constant threat of death hanging over their heads.
“What am I supposed to do, kepus? About this marriage. The whore being pregnant.” Rhaenyra asked from her spot resting her head right over his heart.
“You will do nothing, princess.” Daemon said, running a hand up and down her back. “I will take care of it if the bitch is with child.”
Daemon might not have the courage to get rid of his own bastard but he had no such reservations regarding a bastard niece or nephew spawned by a Hightower leech. He then decided to postpone the talk about another whore being pregnant too, his niece had had enough for one day.
“But the marriage…”
“It is too late to do anything short of killing her, princess.” Daemon begrudgingly said. “As good as that would be, there would be too many ramifications. My name as the murderer among it.” He explained, though he was sure Viserys will overlook the Royce’s death, he would rather not see if his brother would do the same for his Hightower whore. “Let Viserys marry the bitch. Her father and her might gain a crown but that will cost them greatly.”
“She will already be known as the whore queen.” Rhaenyra commented, not disliking the idea as much. Perhaps their downfall would be even sweeter after they thought themselves being on top. “Aunt Amanda and even Princess Rhaenys must have spread the gossip too. They were enraged about it.”
“Good. Make everyone know what she did to become queen. Courtiers and servants alike… I’ll see to it people in the city know it too.” Daemon said with a wicked smile thinking of Otto’s name being dragged through the mud around the realm. “Before the marriage happens all of Westeros will know the type of queen they will have.”
Rhaenyra smiled with satisfaction. Many lords were already going to be as enraged as Lord Corlys was, more maybe since they did not even got to know they could have had a chance to present their daughters as prospects to the king, then to found why exactly they lost their chance… Oh the Hightowers image will mean as much as horseshit.
Thoughts for tomorrow though. Pulling away to look at Uncle Daemon, Rhaenyra grabbed his free hand before asking:
“Will you leave soon, kepus?”
“I’ll have to yes.” He replied with an apologetic smile. “After ensuring the whore will lost the half-breed if she is carry one… Then I have to stop at Dragonstone for something before heading to the Stepstones.”
“Why do you have to go there, kepus?” Rhaenyra asked reminded of what he planned, a war against a man who fed people to crabs for fun. “This fight is not yours.”
“It is, Rhaenyra. It’s mine, yours, the Crown’s fight… Viserys won’t do anything before it is too late so I have to.” Daemon said, not mentioning that the islands was also a means to have something to his name to offer her in the future once she needed a consort to marry.
“If I was older, I would go with you and ride Syrax into battle too. Like Visenya and Vhagar.”
Daemon smiled but silently preyed the Fourteen never saw fit to make anything happen that would force Rhaenyra to have to fight a war.
“Listen, I need to tell you some necessary information.” He said to change the subject, this matter could not be postponed for he did not know if he would have the time to visit her again before Viserys send men looking for him.
“Those advantages you spoke of the other night?” She asked more than curious about whatever it is uncle Daemon had planned to help her with.
Daemon nodded and then started explaining to her about the two new servants who were girls in his employ, about his trusted gold cloaks and the secret entrance. How she should seek the girls when needing anything, information or otherwise, and to seek his men only when extremely necessary, especially now the Hightower cunt would be gaining so much more influence in court.
They would be the ones to get her information or gossip, from inside the keep and from the city; they would be the ones to spread any rumors when necessary and the ones to act if necessary. After he finished explaining everything, Rhaenyra handed him a piece of paper with a few names on it and grinned wicked when saying those were the people who had mistreated Baela. ‘Could she be any more perfect?’ Daemon thought with his own wicked smirk.
Daemon tucked her in bed once some of the candles started dying out and the fire in the hearth dimmed a little.
“I’ll be sending letters to you as constantly as possible, darling, with any more information or ideas you may need.” Daemon sat at the edge of the bed and gently caressing her silver gold curls.
“And about all the adventure you will have there in the Stepstones?”
“War is no adventure, little love.” Daemon said with a sigh. “Although I have not been to one myself, only battles that lasted a week at best, I’ve heard all the tales the Old King, your grandfather and Uncle Aemon had to tell. As well as other men who have been to real war… War is ugly, Rhaenyra, brutal and merciless. Not something I wish for my princess to hear about.”
“If I’m to be Queen one day, I ought to hear and know of such things, kepus.” She retorted with a pretty frown.
“That is why you have me, princess, I will be the one to worry about conflicts and such.” Daemon smiled at her. “All you ought to be is a wise, political and delightful Princess. And one day Queen.”
Rhaenyra smiled ruefully at her kepus words but felt warmer than ever by them, by his belief in her and her capabilities.
“Do not dare die, kepus.” Rhaenyra commanded after some minutes of quiet, clutching at his wrist before he stood to leave, her hold so tight her nails broke through skin. “I order you not to die. Your princess, your future Queen commands you to come back, do your hear me?
You will come back to me or I swear I’ll drag you back from the seven hells to kill you myself.”
“As my princess commands.” Daemon smile widely in genuine fondness in seeing her act as the fierce little dragon that she was, as the queen she ought to be one day. “I will come back, little love. I’ll always come back to you, Rhaenyra.”
Notes:
Soooo what are your thoughts?! Leave kudos & comments to let me know if you liked it 🥹
The marriage is happening but it won't be a smooth climb to the greens, not at all 😏
Honestly I do believe Viserys didn't choose Alicent that easily as it seems (at least to me it felt implied it was) because come on, he's a idiot but not that much not to know there was a dozen other houses that would be better prospects, the Velaryons number fucking one 🤦🏽♀️ Oldtown is an advantage the Hightowers bring the crown true but not that big since theyre not even the liege house of the Reach 🤷🏾♀️ while Velaryon isn't one either they at least have a fleet, the gold and dragons!
So I decided to put Otto's "wit" to work so he would manipulate all this scenarios to lead Viserys to this choice. Not a way to down play Viserys clownery but to highlight it since he was on the "right" track to choose Laena but ended up deciding for the "easy" route just because of his ever present selfish wish for a son 🙄
That's mostly considering book canon ofc cause series version and their attempt at a love story, I wont even go into that (i mean what even was the point that conversation w lyonel strong) 🙅🏽♀️Daemon being more of a sneaky and conniving man it's what's missing a lot from his canon version tbh. He had the potential right there but it was totally wasted 🤦🏽♀️
Should he have killed Mysaria already? Yep! But then it would taken away too many advantages from Otto all at once and another villain lingering around is always good to the plot 🤭
And Daemon thinking technically "small" about numbers is on purpose, first because he does not have the time to try build a larger network to do this kinda work but second and most important is because I've other plans regarding this sort of thing. We will get to it soon!!Ser Harrold opening the council doors in the last minute, on purpose or on purpose? Man trying to compensate for his participation in the king's illicit affair probably 🤣
So, I thought it over and over, and decided to go with my idea about Rhaenys pregnancy with Addam&Alyn! But I'm still deciding and planning if she's having both or just one of them 🤔
And no, that's not me trying to make Corlys look better or something, I already mentioned many chapters ago how he is a cheating awful husband and man. Plus this whole proposal of Laena's hand was just to show how awful a father he is too, and how Rhaenys is also complicit and not all that good of a parent either!?
Which wanting another child only makes them look worse people 🤷🏾♀️Anyways... I hope you guys liked and savored well Rhaenyra&Daemon's interaction this chapter cause this is their last one for a while 💔
Daemon unconsciously already kneeling for his queen it's what we love to see am I right 😌
It may be a little ooc of him this early on being this easily accepting of her taking his place as heir and all but I didn't want to tackle that issue that has already been wonderfully and amazingly written by other authors here so I preferred to focus on other matters instead!!!
Their usual habit of not talking about everything with each other, straight up hiding things even, presenting itself and it will be a issue for them in the future as it is a core Daemyra canonical issue/obstacle imo 🫣Next chapter I might take a little longer to update cause it's a huge monster 😵💫 I'm really trying to finish 106year on the next chapter but I'll probably have to split it anyways, I got carried away as usual regarding some things 😅
I already wrote a lot of it but I'm currently going through a little writer's block so might take a bit for me to finish it!Here is the links for the fic's 'visuals', if you interested:
https://www.tumblr.com/virgogeminiposts
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-24/Characters' ages:
Rhaenyra - 8
Daemon - 24
Viserys - 29
Alicent - 18
Jolene - 21
Yana - 16
Ser Luthor - 41
Ser Balon - 39
Ser Neal - 26
Ser Harwin - 25
Harlan - 18I guess that's all 🤭
Let me know your thoughts and opinions if you liked it, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!!See you in the next one 🥰
Kisses ❣️😘
Chapter 26: Chapter Twenty-Five: 106 AC Part X
Notes:
Heeelloooouu readers!! Here's another big ass chapter 🥰
Over 2 weeks since last update, the longest time yet I think, so sorry for that!! But thank you all for the kudos and comments and sticking w me 🥹❣️Tbh half of this chapter was not even planned, much less was supposed to be here taking up space from what was actually planned to be chapter 25 🥴 buuut my imagination went a little wild and lost total track of things 😅
I'm not one to suppress my imagination/creativity so I let it run its course!I cannot stress enough how wonderful the world of fanfiction is 🥹 I really went all the way in w my own spin/imagining of a lot of stuff w this one, canon said bye!! Hopefully it is as fun for you to read as it was for me to write 🤗
We start the chapter w a little of whats going on the RedKeep post wedding revelation and the thread of a new plotline to be unraveled along the story. Then *war drums* in the distance 😏This chapter is quite fast paced and has a lot of things happening, it might get confusing at some points but I'm really trying to move the story forward to its next face!! Still year 106AC definitely aint gonna be finished in 10 parts as I planned so cheers to my clownery 🤡
And I'm still a bit down on creativity, job is draining my very soul atm, so next update might take a while again 😵💫Some more explaining in the end notes which is going to be a chapter of it's own, if you're interested 😅
High Valyrian = bold italicsHave a fun reading 😉
P.S: I thought of a new idea for another story while drunk the other day and even wrote a little of a prologue 🥴 I won't actually get to write it now but plan to eventually and for that I would like your opinion on a decision for the story plot. So if you have the time and interest, give it a vote: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1XXYs9qdJs_dOCNurE1ps_aF4UJIwewXT6C1JC3eeAgg/viewform?hl=pt-br&hl=pt-br&hl=pt-br&hl=pt-br&hl=pt-br&edit_requested=true&edit_requested=true
P.S: RIP Chance Paedomo 💔 I was totally shocked that he passed just sometime after I chose him as Daelius' face claim!! So loved his work as an actor, so sad losing such talent 😞
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra was once again using the Godswood as a hiding place, comfortably sitting in the shallow part between two big roots of the Weirwood tree and reading a book about the history of Westeros’ economy that Lord Beesbury lent to her.
For the last two days all the small council met to talk about was about the king’s choice of bride and the fallout of what Rhaenyra revealed, the gossip running rampart around the Red Keeps hall. From what Lord Beesbury told her, he and Lord Strong did try to caution her father in his choice, hoping he would reconsider while the Velaryons were still in the capital readying themselves to leave.
It was to no avail, King Viserys was decided to go through with his choice of new wife and had given leave to his Hand to deal with all the gossip spreading around before it left the keep’s walls. Rhaenyra was sure by now her uncle must have spread the gossip in the city and before long, maybe even before the invitations were sent to the Houses, the lords would also already be aware of the happenings here.
Today they were probably meeting to start discussing the wedding preparations, her father’s wish for a hasty marriage only a confirmation of why he was marrying the Hightower whore. And it was not to save face for his late night dalliance but for the consequences of it.
Instead of participating in it, Rhaenyra took the chance for some peace and quiet to read the many books she needed too, such as the one about economy she was currently reading. Even if Uncle Daemon were to get rid of the half-breed possibly growing inside that whore, it was just a matter of time before she would spawn another one that might be a boy.
Rhaenyra would be now in a race against time. She needed to be as much prepared as possible before any Hightower boy could be born, she needed to show and prove how capable she was to remain as heir, how she was the true Targaryen worthy of the throne. If Alicent was as good at birthing boys as her mother, she would give the king a son. And Rhaenyra could not trust her father to uphold his promise that she was and would remain to be his heir.
If that was taken away from her, Rhaenyra would then need to be well prepared to take it back in the future. No half Hightower abomination would sit her family’s throne.
A rustling of steps and low voices alerted her of someone approaching, looking up she saw her cousin Adrian who has been shadowing her along with Ser Criston, something her white knight accepted begrudgingly.
“Hello cousin.” She smiled up at him and closed her book. “Is it time for lunch yet? Aunt Amanda would have my head if I am late again.”
“No, there is still sometime left.” He answered with a small smile in sympathy, his mother could be quite overbearing when she wanted to. “Lady Lucile’s brother is here, he wishes to speak with you.”
“Ser Harwin?” Rhaenyra asked with a smile, then stood up, hoping there was already news from her uncle.
“No, that other one.” Adrian answered, then stepped a little to the side and gestured towards the door of the Godswood where the Kingsguard was imposingly staring at the Strong boy. “The weird one.”
“Don’t be mean, cousin.” Rhaenyra chided him but giggled anyways, for Lucile’s brother Larys was indeed an odd one and not because of his crippled foot. “Tell Ser Criston it is fine, I will speak with him.”
Adrian nodded and offered to take her book which Rhaenyra gladly deposited on his hand, then she clasped her hands behind her back and waited for Larys to walk to her. It was a slow process which made Rhaenyra feel empathetic to his plight and almost walk to meet him in the middle but she refrained.
It was amazing how the two brothers were entire opposites from each other but for their mop of curly brown hair; where Ser Harwin was tall and strong, Larys was a bit shorter and gangly thin. Ser Harwin was an extroverted and loud man while Larys was quiet and awkward.
“Princess Rhaenyra.” Larys greeted and bowed, then looked at her with his oddly intense stare, eyes of a dark but glinting green. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course, Larys. What do you wish to speak about?” She asked curious to know. “Is Lucile alright?”
“Aye, my sister was perfectly fine last I saw her.” Larys answered coolly. Unlike Harwin, he also was not close to either of their sisters.
“Good then. She has become a good friend of mine.” Rhaenyra smiled with fondness. “So what is it?”
“I was hoping for a chance to work for you, my Princess.” Larys answered, straight to the point.
“A chance to work for…” Rhaenyra frowned deeply, more confused than ever. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Larys.”
“You see, Princess Rhaenyra, due to my condition I cannot frequent training yards with other boys. And people tend to not wish the presence of someone like me anyways.” Larys explained calmly. “Something about bodily deformities makes people uncomfortable. So all that is left to me are cripples, bastards and broken things*… Oh and the rats, of course. ”
“I don’t…” Rhaenyra did not know what to say, she was appalled by his words. “What are you talking about?”
“People like me, Princess Rhaenyra, are quite useful. We can go unnoticed, unseen. We can listen to things and sneak into all kinds of places. We can say a whisper that might turn into a loud scream.” He answered with a pointedly look. “I can make them useful to you, if you would have me, Your Grace. Now that the Lord Hand has showed his hand and set the board, you will need all the help you can get.”
Rhaenyra finally understood what he was saying. Like the two girls she met the other day who were employed by her kepus, Larys wanted to provide her with people to spy and do other useful and less than honorable things for her. To ensure she had an advantage against her now known foes.
“Why?” She asked looking warily at him. “Why are you here saying these things? Offering your help? What do you gain with that?”
“Because I see your potential, Princess Rhaenyra.” Larys replied honestly. “Unlike the King, his Hand, his councilmen and a great many people. I see you.” He continued, unable to hold a grin for the card up his sleeve he was about to reveal. “I was there that night, you know, when Grandmaester Rucinter met the Stranger.”
Rhaenyra felt weak at the knees, head swimming for a second at his words, she was sure she must have gone as pale as a ghost. She had been so certain no one but her, the dead maester and the gods knew of her dark secret, she was so confident of it that she had put that night away from her mind entirely.
“W-wh-what?’ She whispered feeling like passing out at any second, maybe then she would wake up to find this was a strange dream. A nightmare.
“I was strolling the corridors, to tire myself to sleep, when I turned a corner just in time to see you pushing the maester down those stairs.” Larys said, then looked back to check if any of her shadows had notice any changes. “For a moment I thought you had broken under all the pressure but then you talked about the late Queen, how he killed her… I understood then. And I saw then the potential you have to be the great monarch our land has sorely needed.” His grin turned into a smile, genuine in a way he so rarely ever smiled since his own mother died. “But you are still just a little girl, Princess Rhaenyra and will always be defined by your gender. Demeaned by it. To ascend as you should, you will need to play dirty as much as your opponents will… More than.”
“And you want to help me with that?” Rhaenyra asked, trying to remain composed, to seem nonchalant even if she was trembling on the inside. “If I say no? Will you go babbling about what you think you saw?”
“No, of course not.” Larys nodded his head and snorted lightly. “I’ll just work from the shadows, aiding you all the same even if you were to refuse my help.”
“Why?” She asked again, more forcefully and serious.
“I am fond of people like me, Princess. Of cripples, of bastards… Of broken things.” He answered emphasizing the last words and staring at her intently.
Rhaenyra almost bristled, wishing to fight that implication, his insinuation she was something broken. But how could she when she was broken? And she was not even out of girlhood yet.
A throat being cleared pulled their attention.
“Is everything alright, my Princess?” Ser Criston asked, eyes slightly narrowed, his hawk eyes having glimpsed his princess nervously twisting her rings. He knew by now how that never meant something good.
“Yes, my good ser.” Rhaenyra quickly answered, forcing a reassuring smile to her knight before looking back at Larys. “You have given me a lot to think about, Larys. I will let you know of my decision once I have thought it through.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I’ll patiently wait.”
“Have a good day.” She said, quickly passing by him and walking towards the exit.
Ser Criston lingered a second longer, glaring suspiciously at the odd Strong boy, not liking his presence around Princess Rhaenyra at all; the boy could not be much better than his older brother, Criston was sure. Larys gave the Kingsguard an innocent smile, not intimidated by the man’s glare as he sure hope Larys would feel, then rolled his eyes as soon as the knight turned to follow after the Princess.
Larys hoped the little princess would decide in his favor, it would be more satisfying to work with her approval, to be the hand she commanded to do the dirty work for her. But if she did not accept his offer, as he told her, Larys would still work in her name all the same, for his would be a work done in the dark either way.
--
Rhaenyra walked back to her chambers tightly clasping her hands behind her back to avoid anyone seeing them trembling. Someone knew what she had done, someone had seen what she did, that was all she could think about on her way through the corridors.
Could she trust Larys Strong to really not tell anything if she refused his proposal? Did she want to refuse him?
There was now the two girls uncle Daemon employed for that exact purpose Larys offered to help with, and there was also his Gold Cloaks but they were his men, his informants. Not Rhaenyra’s, not in true. But if she were to accept Larys help, they would be his people too and not hers.
However both of them were right that she needed all the help she could get. In the upcoming week, Rhaenyra was going to see just her ninth nameday yet, she was years away from being a young woman, a grown up; that along with being a girl at all were disadvantages that the Lord Hand would only exploit more than he already does if his whore of a daughter gave the king a son.
As if simply thinking of them was a summons, when Rhaenyra turned into the corridor of the apartments her chambers were located she found Alicent in front of her doors, pacing and almost violently wriggling her fingers.
“What are you doing here?” Rhaenyra sneered up at her, not caring for the dark circles under her eyes nor the pinkish hue in her eyes indicating she has being crying.
“Princess Rhaenyra.” Alicent said and stepped towards her but both Kingsguard and Arryn cousin moved protectively at the same time to stand beside the princess. “I-I was waiting for you, Princess. I wanted us to talk...”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Rhaenyra interrupted her, smirking at seeing a couple of servants and courtiers stop whatever they were doing to watch them. “You are just my father’s whore who got with child. You are not worth of my time.”
“I’m not, Princess Rhaenyra. I’m not with child, I swear!” Alicent exclaimed desperately, already hearing whispers start behind her.
No one was supposed to know, father promised her nothing of this sort would happen but now she was being looked at and talked about with disdain everywhere she turned. She had been so afraid when father came to her rooms to say her maid had told him of her moonblood being late, she also swore to him it was normal to happen and that just a couple days late could not mean anything.
However he simply said Grandmaester Mellos would talk with the King so he could decide their course of action about the matter, Alicent could not understand her father’s decision for that but she had to trust him. It was still so mortifying when the King did call for her to talk about it.
Alicent had been sure then her moonblood had just not come on time because of all the stress as it happened quite often but since she has been feeling sore and bloated and even had cramps too, she was so certain blood would be staining her sheets soon. That certainty was shattered when the king ordered the Grandmaester to examine her sooner than he told her they would have to, something else she could not understand why, and then Grandmaester Mellos confirmed she was with child.
Although terrified at first, she was quickly able to be glad that had finally hastened and ensured King Viserys’ choice to take her as his new wife and queen; her sacrifices would finally be worth it. And father had promised she needn’t worry about anything else, that all was working as planned and all would be alright. But now everyone knew she had visited the King and even without actually knowing the truth, they all had assumed King Viserys chose her because she was with child.
And all of that was happening because the princess was too spoiled and ignorant of the ways of the world to be reasonable.
“Please, Princess, let us talk.” Alicent pleaded, if she could win over the princess, if she saw reason then she would stay by Alicent’s side and the gossipers would stop wagging their tongues. Their offense was for the Princess more than the marriage itself. And for the discovery of how the former Queen died but Alicent would rather pretend she had not heard about that, she refused to believe it. “I can explain everything. You will understand then that your father and I... We just... We grew fond of each other, that is all.”
“I may be just a child, Lady Alicent, but I am not stupid.” Rhaenyra scrunched her nose in disgust for the woman’s attempted lies and for her own lies she would have to say to further besmirch the whore. “My father, the king, would not choose a second son’s daughter from a vassal house as his bride. He would not risk slighting his Paramount lords in such a way, much less lose the chance to marry a Valyrian.”
“As you said, Princess, you are too young still but when two people love...” Alicent tried to say, since the brat would not let them talk privately then she better take the opportunity and the prying ears to explain what her father said they would have to use to fight the rumors, but an inelegant snort from the princess interrupted her.
“Love? The King proclaimed to love my mother too and he still ordered her cut open for a babe.” Rhaenyra said, satisfied to see the older girl pale at those words and she did not even had to feign sadness at was done to her muña. “Father likes his dear friend Otto too much, that is the only reason he chose to fix this mistake by marrying you.”
“No, Princess, that is not...”
“Ser Criston.” Rhaenyra interrupted her again, turning to the side to look at her white knight, his pretty face distorted in an ugly expression towards the Hightower girl. “I tire of this conversation.”
“Step aside, Lady Alicent.” Ser Criston commanded instantly, unable to hide the contempt in having to use the honorific. It was with wicked glee Rhaenyra saw her knight not so subtly rest a hand on the pommel of his sword. “Her Grace has made her wish known, she does not want to be disturbed any further.”
Alicent swallowed down tears and her wish to scream, to rage against that little brat who ruined everything for her but for the sake of playing smart, Alicent bowed her head respectfully and stepped away so the princess and her two guard dogs could pass.
She needed to make people see how gracious she was, how humble and fit to be Queen she was, if they saw that then it would be easier for them to stop the slanders and understand she simply comforted the King innocently from the goodness of her heart.
If Alicent could only make them see, make them understand King Viserys chose her because of how he could not avoid falling in love for such a kind-hearted and gracious woman, then she would not need to hear all the awful things they were whispering about her. They could not talk of their future Queen like this, they should be respectful towards her instead of throwing her disdainful looks.
And if the child in her womb was King Viserys’ long awaited boy, if she succeed where the late queen failed again and again, then the people ought to defer to Alicent, they ought to be thankful she would give them the rightful heir they can call king one day. Not Rhaenyra, a spoiled undeserving princess, a girl.
--
“Is there really no way to convince you to stay, or at least to allow Laena to stay?” Amanda asked while watching Princess Rhaenys braid her dark hair, already dressed in riding clothes.
As much as she was wary of the Velaryons, of Lord Corlys scrupulous ambition, their alliance would look good for Rhaenyra. Their armada of ships even more so if her niece ever needed to fight a Hightower boy.
“If Corlys wasn’t so afraid of the skies, he would have flown back home with me by now.” Rhaenys answered finishing her braid, then stood up to face Lady Amanda. “My husband is a prideful man and he has been slighted one too many times by Viserys. As relieved as I am I will not have to marry my daughter to him, who was chosen over her stings nonetheless.”
“Perhaps if your husband had not offered your daughter’s hand, then the king would have announced his search for a bride before that little whore could slither her way into his bed.” Amada said with lips in a thin line to avoid saying more of she actually wanted to.
Ever since needing to be the protector of Jeyne’s inheritance against the bitterness of her older sister, Amanda learned she could not afford to be a brazen and out spoken girl, she learned sometimes concessions needed to be made and a mouth well shut could go a long way to please and get what she needed.
“One thing you must learn about Viserys, Lady Amanda, if you’re to remain here is that he will always chose the wrong decision. There is no version of this which Otto Hightower would have not won.” Rhaenys retorted bitterly, putting on her gloves.
“He has not won anything. A daughter known as a whore means nothing even when wearing a crown.”
“Gossip die down eventually, faster if she births a boy.” Rhaenyra shrugged, no matter the satisfaction of spreading the rumors as payment for the slight, she knew well how the court worked and how it prioritized things. “Even Aemma’s death will be forgotten then. My own grandmother’s butchery was thrown under the rug easily enough.”
Amanda gritted her teeth, feeling her eyes sting with unshed tears, she has not allowed herself to cry ever since discovering just how exactly her sweet sister died. She screamed and she raged and threatened to pay the king back in kind for that but not allowed a single tear to fall.
If she did she would not be able to stop, she would not be able to be there for Rhaenyra as her niece needs right now. To imagine the pain and torture Aemma went through in her last minutes of life, the betrayal of that happening at the orders of her own husband, it was just too much for Amanda.
“I will not allow it to happen. No one, certainly not the king will forget about Aemma, nor what was done to her.” Amanda said as calmly as she could.
“Do not hold much hope for that, Amanda. This place…” Rhaenys looked around her old chamber, eyes stopping on the portray of her with her parents done so long ago. “It never fails to disappoint. It never fails to slowly break and kill us.”
“That shall not be Rhaenyra’s future. If I am to be the only one to fight for her, then so be it.”
“I am leaving yes but that does not mean I will no longer support her…”
“Doesn’t it?” Amanda questioned sharply, tired of walking in circles around the matter. “Wouldn’t your husband and you wish to sit a son sired by your daughter on the throne just the same as Otto?”
Rhaenys had to bit her lip, unable to retort anything to that accusation, to deny what she knew to be true. No matter her fondness for Rhaenyra, their blood bond, if Laena had married Viserys and gave him a son, Rhaenys would have wanted and done everything to see her grandchild on the throne.
Sometimes late at night she allowed herself to be honest and admit that deep down she had not done more to avoid Corlys proposal for their daughter because it would have been righteous vindication for her blood to inherit the Iron Throne instead of Jaehaerys’ chosen one.
“We will never know the answer now.” Rhaenys finally said. “Farewell, Lady Amanda. Give Rhaenyra my well wishes.”
--
From the deck of the Sea Snake, Laena silently cried while her father’s ship sailed further and further away from Kings Landing, her eyes focused on the Red Keep and what she was leaving behind there. Her cousin and friend, a life of peace away from Driftmark.
For the first time since her father told her about his plans of marrying her to king, Laena actually wished that would have happened, that she would have been chosen by King Viserys instead Alicent Hightower. She wished for that if only so she could have remained in the capital with Rhaenyra. If only so she would not be going back home, going back to where he was.
But her pleas to both her parents fell in deaf hears, her father was too enraged by the slight and her mother too disgusted by her cousin’s ill thought decision. Her mother was also too fearful to allow her daughter to live in a dangerous and poisonous court, she thought Laena too fragile and sheltered to deal with a life in the Red Keep. That only made Laena more angered and bitter, to know how her mother so wrongly perceives her.
Even Laenor’s attempt to talk with them in her behalf was for naught. They were leaving and that was the end of it, as their father snapped at them.
Laena saw then Meleys and Seasmoke take to the skies which only made more tears spring down her cheeks. If only she had a dragon of her own, then her uncle would not so easily get to her. If she had a dragon then Laena could simply fly away, to Essos as far away as Asshai or to the lands beyond the Wall. If she had a dragon then Rhaenyra and her could fly away to live great adventures and eat only cake.
That was not to be their future though. They were girls after all, they could only live what the men in their lives wanted for them, nothing more. Never anything more than what others wanted to take from them.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Caraxes alighted on the Dragonmont late afternoon, the sky almost dark already by the thick clouds and smoke. Daemon inhaled deeply the air of the Targaryen ancestral seat, feeling it cleanse him, invigorate him.
The last couple of days in the capital were hectic, Viserys latest stupidity forcing Daemon to add late minute arrangements to his plans while finishing organizing everything else. He did not even got the chance to visit Rhaenyra one last time before he ran out of time, word of his possible presence there already on people’s lips which meant it would not take long before the Hightower cunt was made aware as well.
Although that leech was probably too busy trying to fix his own plans, Daemon had no doubt he would still find time to try and fuck Daemon’s plans. It was better to leave before that.
After seeing to his men safely boarding the ten pentoshi ships that had brought Camellia to the capital, courtesy of Prince Reggio, as well as ensuring a midwife was heavily paid to care for the pregnant girl, Daemon went to where Caraxes was hidden deep in the Kingswood instead of staying in the Dragonpit.
It was with amusement he found Syrax there as well, comfortably curled beside Caraxes, and with surprise he saw how big his niece’s dragon had gotten. After thanking the younger dragon for saving his daughter, something he would have to talk some other time with Rhaenyra about, he tried to coax her to go back to the pit. Only Caraxes whistling grumbles did the trick though.
Sadly, the yellow dragon was too young to either present its chosen gender as well as to mate yet, but considering history Daemon was sure Syrax was likely to become a she-dragon. And if he was reading his bond with Caraxes right, his boy would not doubt be laying claim to the dragon when the time came; not that different from Daemon’s own plans.
“Greetings, Prince Daemon.” Sureya greeted him with a deep bow of respect once he was down on the ground.
Sureya was the elder dragonkeeper in charge of the care of the dragons living in the Dragonmont, and even more than the dragonkeepers in the capital, hers and her keepers deferred wholly to the riders of dragons. Their group could boast of being only made of descendants of the keepers brought from Old Valyria by Aenar Targaryen hundreds of years ago.
Theirs was a work of familial generations and no outsiders were ever accepted or else the little drop of Valyrian dragonblood in their veins that allowed them to connect with dragons in the smallest of ways would vanish. Much like Targaryens, the dragonkeepers of Dragonstone married within the family as was done in Old Valyria.
“Good evening.” Daemon said taking off his leather gloves, then patted his boy’s neck. “Caraxes had some eventful days. Make sure he has a hearty meal and can rest in his lair without interruptions.”
The elder dragonkeeper only gave a nod of agreement before gesturing for the other three keepers to approach Caraxes for the unsaddling.
“Oh and take Meraxes armor out of the vault.” Daemon added before leaving them to it.
He made the long trek to the castle, these eventful and non-stop days finally catching up to both his body and mind. Daemon would be sure to sleep and rest for at least two days, since once he left again there would be little rest to be had.
“Prince Daemon, we were not expecting your arrival.” The castellan of Dragonstone, Ser Afler or something, said in greeting when he arrived.
“No one ever is.” Daemon snorted then looked at the maester beside the man, the only maester he ever found agreeable. “Maester Gerardys, be sure to bring any letters arriving in the next days straight to me.”
“Of course, Prince Daemon.” The maester agreed. “We did not have much time to prepare an appropriate reception for you but as soon as your dragon was spotted on the sky, I ordered a bath to be drawn in Aegon’s chambers.”
“Aye, aye.” The castellan said, his clenched jaw not going unnoticed by Daemon. “The cooks are preparing some food right now as well.”
“Great, have them bring it to my solar.” Daemon started walking towards the entrance of the castle. “I require some good rest so make sure I’m not disturbed. Unless there is letters or when my men dock.”
“Your men?” The castellan asked looking at him warily.
“Ships will be arriving soon with my Gold Cloaks. And some provisions.” Daemon answered with a shrug. “Make sure to prepare the castle for their arrival.”
“How many will be there, Your Grace?” Maester Gerardys asked at the same time Ser Alfred asked:
“Is the King aware of this? Of your presence here?”
“There is roughly 800 hundred men, so tents will need to be erected outside in the yards. Prioritize my captains and serjeants to be housed inside the castle.” Daemon told the maester before stopping and turning to the castellan. “My brother is too worried marrying and crowning his own whore to be bothered with me, Ser Alfin. No need to bother him either.”
“It is Ser Alfred Broome, Prince Daemon.” The man said visibly irritated.
“This will be all.” Daemon only gave him a smirk before turning to keep walking towards Stone Drum tower.
He made his way to the floor where the apartments of the once Lords and Ladies of Dragonstone were located. Daemon used to prefer to stay in Visenya’s room at the Sea Dragon tower because the feeling of closeness that gave him to the woman whose sword he carried and because it was less noisy, but now he would rather stay in the rooms destined to Targaryen kings and princes.
Passing the doors of Rhaenys’ chambers, Daemon finally reached the doors to Aegon’s chambers and quickly entered. The antechamber was just as he remembered, undisturbed and clean as ever; he took off his boots and the belt with his Valyrian sword and dagger. Daemon entered the bedchamber then, putting his belt on the bed and then walked to the small and almost hidden bathing room off to the side.
He disrobed quickly, eager to enter the big build-in stone tub with hot water in it. Daemon sighed in relief as soon as his body was submerged in water, sore body relaxing instantly by the heat and fragrant oils. He needed to take advantage of these next few days to the fullest, once out there in the Stepstones there would be no such luxuries.
Daemon must have fallen asleep, for the next thing he remembers is being startled to consciousness by a loud thunder echoing in the tower. With a groan, he stood and got out of the tub, then walked back to the bedchamber and just threw a robe around his naked body before walking towards the private solar. He entered the solar, a spacious room meant for the lords then kings and princes of the castle to privately do their ruling and such, just in time to see the servants finishing setting small the table.
Done with their work, they quickly left as silent as they had come in, something else to like about Dragonstone was how the few servants working there were quiet and discreet. They were not prompt to gossip or disloyalty, he would have to make sure it stayed that way before the Hightower cunt tried to put grabby hands on his family’s seat.
Daemon dug in the food with gusto, staying in secrecy in the capital did not allow for any fancy meal but for the meagre food from the City Watch barracks Ser Luthor would bring him. No wonder so many of the Gold Cloaks had quit long before he got there, Daemon wondered with anger at his hard work being undone like that in such short time.
From the 2000 Gold Cloaks under his command, over 300 had quit in his time away thanks to the rapt decline of the Watch. Now only over 900 remained in Kings Landing after almost 800 men eagerly chose to follow him to Dragonstone and the Stepstones – a few of those having “quit” as a subterfuge to go to Runestone instead – that sudden change would surely alert Viserys about him if nothing else did.
Daemon told Ser Luthor it was unlikely for the Crown to try to put that number much higher, it was already more than it used to be before he was given command of the Watch by Viserys. But it was likely for the hand to try putting, or even replacing Gold Cloaks, with his own men; especially once it became clear how dislikeable the Hightower whore was in the city.
Daemon made sure the people was aware just how little Alicent gained a crown, and they were very angered by the disrespect shown to their dear and gentle Queen Aemma.
Unlike most nobles, Daemon knew how important the opinion of the smallfolk was, especially in a city such as Kings Landing where the smallfolk outnumbered the royals and highborn by a large number. They usually did not care much for the life inside the Red Keep beyond what could affect them in a bad way but with little to do outside working themselves to death, the smallfolk did enjoy knowing and gossiping about the lives of royals and nobles as a way to entertain themselves.
Once well rested, Daemon would get to work on his letters to Rhaenyra, instructions to remind her of that and how to best approach the people, how to win them over before the new whore queen tried to. His niece ought to be even better than Queen Rhaenys and Good Queen Alysanne combined to ensure the smallfolk would be on her side even if a boy was ever to be spawned by Viserys’ Hightower whore.
Not that he would allow it anyways, Daemon thought with a dark chuckle and then dawned a cup of wine to wash down the food he just ate. He walked back to the bedchamber and discarded the robe on the floor, getting under the covers naked and still slightly wet.
The day after his last visit to Rhaenyra, Daemon went to the shady and less than dignified apothecary down in Flea Bottom he usually bought certain things from. Ingredients for moontea was cheaper there but more potent and dangerous than the usual which was why women with little to spare tried to avoid buying there as much as possible. Instead they bought ingredients for a concoction that did not work as efficiently as moontea but worked to decrease fertility, for some of the women that was the best they could hope for to avoid birthing a dozen children. Daemon not only bought the ingredients for moontea but for that other tea as well.
Giving moontea to the Hightower whore every time her courses were late would only work for so long before the maesters found out the reason for an unsuccessful pregnancy. Delaying Viserys’ seed to take root in her damned womb would give a bit more of time to his niece, and hopefully the long usage of the other concoction would leave some damage in the bitch.
And if not, Daemon would not mind getting rid of any possible boy she might spawn. Any child that was not his was of little to no importance to Daemon. His niece the only exception. Viserys might have sired her and Aemma birthed her, but Rhaenyra was his. His girl, his princess, his future wife and Queen, and his alone.
It was with that thought in mind and the warm image of their last encounter Daemon fell into a deep sleep.
--
Daemon inspected the dragon armor with keen eyes, trying to figure out how to best make it fit Caraxes.
His boy was unique, no other dragons were like him, but Meraxes had had a body type close enough, so close so that uncle Aemon had thought Caraxes was from one of her clutch of eggs. It was the reason he choose Caraxes, the God of the skies and the Goddess Meraxes first son, as the name to his then dragon.
After a trip to the village bellow the Dragonmont to receive his men, the ships delayed by a day due a storm, Daemon went to the volcano to talk with the Dragonkeepers about the armor so they could prepare to put it on Caraxes, as well as another saddle better fit for battle.
“Some parts would need to be left out.” Daemon commented to the keepers, contemplative. “Unless reshaped, they won’t fit. And there is no time for my contact in Qohor to work on the Valyrian steel for that.”
“Is it true then, that they know the secrets to Valyrian steel there?” Sureya asked curiously.
“Mhmhm.” Daemon just hummed an answer before saying “Call for me after Caraxes eats, he will be lazy then and it will make it easier to try the armor on him.”
Daemon stepped closer to the armor and rested a hand on it, the steel cold and unblemished. This was a piece of Old Valyria, a piece of their history, he thought in awe as he always was when he came into contact with anything that was a part of the Targaryen history and the history of where they came from. Where they had truly belonged.
With a solemn nod, Daemon turned to go back to the castle. He kept thinking about it while lazily walking to the castle, reflecting on his family’s and Valyria’s history.
The dragons of Old Valyria wore armor of Valyrian steel made specifically for dragons, whenever the dragonlords of old went to battle, whether against other cities to conquer them or when families fought between themselves. There were plenty of tapestries in Dragonstone depicting such but that tradition was lost to time, even to his family. Aenar and his five dragons crossed the Narrow Sea with their armors but they were put into storage along with many other artefacts from that time, they were only going to be used again years and years later when the three Conquerors flew to conquer Westeros.
But as soon as the conquest was done, they stored them again, did not use it any longer by the time the Dornish Wars happened; likely how Meraxes was fell out of the sky in true. Aerea was the first Targaryen since to use one of the dragon armors when she decided to go to the ruins of Old Valyria, using the oldest and biggest armor to fit the size of Balerion at that point. Whatever mysterious and sad event happened with the two of them, Balerion returned without it.
There had been only one armor shaped different from the others, used by one of the four dragons that died in Dragonstone long before the Conquest and that eventually fit Meraxes perfectly. Which meant in the old days, when there was a thousand dragons, there likely was dragons shaped like Caraxes and even more different than the common shape dragons hatched with nowadays.
But it was with Meraxes and the fate of Queen Rhaenys in mind that Daemon had decided to come to Dragonstone for that one armor.
The Dornish were not the first ones to come up with the idea of scorpions, Daemon was sure of it, that probably came along with Nymeria when she crossed the sea hundreds of years before the Targaryens. And more likely than not other places in Essos had made scorpions as well in the time of the Freehold, how else could they even try to fight off hordes of dragons?
The Myrish prince could very well find a way to get his hand on one of those once Daemon and Caraxes started laying waste to his ambitions. Or at least Daemon should think he would as to be prepared for any and all possibilities. Like the possibility Dorne and its prince could be spiteful enough to lend one of their dusted scorpions if the Crabfeeder reached out to them.
Caraxes was old enough by now his scales were hardened against most things, from arrows to other dragons his size or smaller ones; only Vhagar, Vermithor, Cannibal and maybe Dreamfyre could do actual damage to him. Daemon would rather not test if a scorpion was or not effective, if it came to it. Especially considering his boy’s lengthy neck had scales in a different texture than the rest of his body, like Meraxes own long neck must have had and the dornish might have hit her there way before hitting her eye. Maybe the scorpion on her eye was just the killing blow.
By the time Aegon and Visenya got to the dragon’s body in hopes they would have at least their sister’s body to bring home, the dornish had already messed with it plenty and only the scorpion bolt still lodged in her eye was left, likely the reason they assumed the she-dragon was killed by it.
Daemon always thought how strange and unlike it was for one person have such lucky shot as to hit a dragon’s eye mid-flight. Meraxes neck was some inches shorter than Caraxes but longer than all other dragons too, so probably the texture was the same too, scales that felt more malleable and less hardened than the rest. And Daemon had seen Caraxes be mindful of his neck whenever hunting and even in the rare occasions he played with other dragons.
He would need to be mindful going into this war, one of the things Daemon most feared was losing his dragon, living long enough to feel their bond breaking. One of the reasons Viserys turned into a sheep, a mere husk of what a Targaryen should be, he was sure was how his brother outlived Balerion, and lived through that experience.
Daemon could still remember how Viserys all but collapsed on the floor suddenly, crying out and curling in on himself, fingers digging into his scalp when Balerion last breathed in the pit. It took weeks for him to recover and when he did Daemon saw something irrevocably changed in his eyes, their father had sighed sadly one time while they observed Viserys in the gardens looking vacantly to the sky and had uttered something to this day Daemon could not figure out what it was.
Still, as heartbroken as Daemon was certain such experience was, it was no excuse for his brother to just keep being worse and worse, turning himself into more of an andal than a Valyrian, more of anything but a Targaryen.
A knock on the doors of the solar pulled him away from his musings, the change in the position of the sun signaling he had being lost in thought for a while since returning from the Dragonmont.
“Come in.” He called out to whoever it was.
“Prince Daemon.” Maester Gerardys said with a slight bow before approaching the table. “Letters have arrived. Though I think only two will interest you, I brought the others as well like you asked.”
Daemon just gave him a nod and then perused over the six letters the maester put on the table, and indeed only two was addressed to him. The others being letters regarding the running of the keep, something he no longer would need to worry about but Rhaenyra would have to learn.
“See to their contents yourself, I don’t trust that Afid man.” Daemon said pushing the other four letters towards the maester.
“And you should not my Prince.” Maester Gerardys said frowning. “If word from the village is true, Ser Alfred has been much discontent with Princess Rhaenyra being named heir and Princess of Dragonstone.”
“Is he now?” Daemon asked clenching his jaw.
“Ser Alfred has quite the lose tongue when drunk, or so I heard.” The maester confirmed.
“Thank you, Maester Gerardys.” He said with a small nod before adding. “My niece will soon be coming to visit her future seat, can I trust you to teach her well in the ways of how to rule Dragonstone?”
“Of course, my Prince.” Maester Gerardys said with a fond smile, he still remembered the little princess running through the castle halls when he had just started there. “I’ve heard the Princess is quite witted and eager for knowledge.”
“Did you huh?” He asked with an arched brow in curiosity.
“Yes. Maester Barry is stationed in the Red Keep, we studied together and still correspond from time to time.” The maester answered. “From what I understood Princess Rhaenyra has preferred his services since he helped her with your daughter after some apprentices were unable to find the cause to her distress.”
“Well, next time you correspond with him, send him my thanks.” Daemon said trying to remain calm at the memory of what Rhaenyra told happened.
“I’ll leave you to it then, Your Grace.” Maester Gerardys said with a nod and then left the solar.
Unfortunately Daemon did not had the time to seek the names on the small list Rhaenyra gave him, he would not have the pleasure of dealing with those people himself, Ser Luthor and his men would be the ones to do the job. No person to had ever harmed any of his girls in any way were long for this world; some would take more time than others, but Daemon would send every and each one to the hells.
Opening the first letter, its better quality but lack of seal peaking his curiosity, Daemon was surprised to see Rhaenys signature at the bottom; quickly reading through it he only got more curious. Apparently she had heard whispers he might be in Westeros and assumed he was probably hiding away in Dragonstone, surprisingly showing she still knew him in some level, and wanted him to visit High Tide. Her husband wishing to speak with him about important matters.
No doubt Corlys was beyond furious for the slight Viserys levied against him, refusing his daughter’s hand for a second son’s daughter, that man’s pride was bigger than both Velaryons castles combined and so was his ambition. Would he be bold and stupid enough to try an alliance with Daemon for a possible attempt to dethrone Viserys? Or was it something else?
Daemon was curious enough to know whatever it was that he would stop by there before heading towards the Stepstones.
The next letter was a smudged and slightly torn piece of scroll with an awfully written calligraphy on it. Probably from Ser Luthor considering the contents. The girl Jolene had found a way into the service of the Hightower whore, something very commendable Daemon had to admit, and gave her the moontea but no result came of it.
Daemon could not avoid laughing almost hysterically reading that. Had Viserys being stupid enough to fall into a trap made by his dear Otto? Or did his brother was just some cunt struck idiot? Daemon could not decide what option was worse.
Ser Luthor then confirmed Jolene was already slipping the other concoction into the whore’s drinks. And that the work about the people that had mistreated Baela was done, except for one of the wetnurses who had already fled the capital moons ago. ‘How odd.’ Daemon thought, something he would have to look into some other time. The gold cloak also comments the Crown was made aware of their missing men of the Watch, Ser Harwin’s father showing at the barracks questioning them about it.
Daemon grinned while burning both letters, Rhaenys’ letter aside, everything else was going according to plan. Picking up scrolls and a quill, Daemon started writing his own letters.
--
It was while taking a flight on Caraxes, testing his boy’s maneuverability and agility with a new sturdier saddle on and the pieces of Valyrian dragon armor, that Daemon spotted a fleet sailing towards Dragonstone. The leading ship sported a banner in the color black with a single red dragon shaped into an S, if that was not indication enough of who had sent those ships Daemon did not know what else could be.
He quickly guided Caraxes to land at the castle main courtyard, ordering one of the gold cloaks to seek the maester and castellan to let them know more visitors were arriving so they could start preparing for a small feast that night. One last night of luxury for him and his men. Then he took flight again before landing at the edge of Dragonstone village.
Village was quite an insult in Daemon’s opinion, for although quite small his ancestors had built a city to house the people who crossed the sea with them. The entirety of houses and buildings were built the same way as the island castle, more modestly and far more practical but still prettier than most Westerosi places could boast of. And its people, many descendants from Old Valyria as well, did not even flinch with a dragon being so close, beyond used by now with living in harmony with them for centuries.
Daemon crossed the small city, nodding to some of the people he remembered the faces of from previous interactions, many bore Valyrian traits or more Essosi traits than Westerosi. It was a short walk, ten and five minutes at most, to cross the village to the edge of where Blackwater started and a marvelous bridge was built by Aenar and his sorceress.
The bridge was built in the same fashion as the Long Bridge of Volantis, intent to connect the village to the structure that made the port of Dragonstone. The port was half the size of the village, with only one building where officers oversaw the coming and going of ships, a building to store goods to be sorted and a tavern in case the sailors did not wish to venture into the city.
How did Aenar’s sorcerers were able to build both a bridge and the pier in the already deep part of Blackwater was a marvelous mystery; more so considering neither the port nor the city seem to ever be affected by the rising of the water level when rain and storms raged for long days at a time in the island.
When the first ship docked, if the banner was not answer enough, then the sight of Daelius confirmed the fleet was sent by Saera.
“Cousin, I did not expect Saera to send you as well.” Daemon commented when Daelius stopped in front of him.
“Mother did not want to but she understands sons sometimes need to leave their safe nest to go after battles and glory.” Daelius said with a small grin.
“There is nothing glorious about war.” He repeated the same thing he said to Rhaenyra days ago.
“During perhaps not but after there will be plenty of it, no?” Daelius questioned.
“Not if you die because your sword stance is awful and your left side too weak.” Daemon retorted, eyeing the two man that were approaching from the ship.
“I have trained what you taught me, every day for hours, I almost beat all the manses’ guards the other day.” He retorted with a proud tilt of his chin.
“Mhm… We can work with almost.” Daemon flashed him a grin before schooling his expression when the two men stopped by them.
“Cousin, this is Heusi Beyanin, the leading captain of the fleet.” Daelius gestured to the man beside him, a short and stocky fellow with copper skin, brown hair and striking light blue eyes that were almost silver.
“Honor to meet a scion of the dragonlords of old, Prince Daemon.” The man said with a slight nod of the head, his High Valyrian heavily accented and its spelling sounding closer to the bastardized version of the language.
“Well met, Captain.” Daemon greeted with a nod as well.
“And this is Seamus Mox, the army commander.” Daelius introduced the second man, a tall broad shouldered fellow, with dark hair and violet eyes. “He was a captain during the Battle of the Borderland in the Disputed Lands. Mother thought he would be the best choice to be the Commander of her armies.”
The way his cousin phrased that left no doubt about who exactly would be having the glory of this war on the Volantene side.
“Prince Daemon.” The man said with a deep voice, his Valyrian more fluidly spoken. “I have heard of your prowess in a battlefield with a Valyrian blade, it will be an honor to fight alongside you. I and my men are eager for action and revenge against that scum.”
“That is good to know.” Daemon gave him a nod. “And good to meet a fellow Commander.”
“You got your army of gold cloaks back then?” Daelius asked in curious excitement.
“Not all 2000 of them, unfortunately just over 800.” He answered with a shrug. “That number along with yours and the men the Prince of Pentos is sending will be a good start though. And Caraxes, of course.”
Daemon gestured to the dragon flying above them around the port, just in time his boy let out his whistling roar.
“A true wonder.” Captain Heusi whispered looking up at the dragon with awe.
“Come, we can talk logistics inside Dragonstone castle.” He said gesturing the path they should take; before following Daemon nodded for Ser Robert Quince to approach. “Ser Robert, come meet with me tomorrow. I wish to speak about some delicate matters with you.”
--
That night there was a grand feast in the main great hall of the castle, with all the men high in the chain of command. Daemon also made sure the men staying in the courtyards had their own smaller feast, as well as the rest of the men that remained in the ships.
Days before he had already hunted with Caraxes for the necessary meat to feed the high number of gold cloaks already in the island and for when sailors and more soldiers were going to arrive. With how little Dragonstone was visited by his family the cellar was overflowing with wines and there was a decent number of food and other provisions in store.
The feast became raucous quickly with so many men gathered together and by the hour of the wolf many men had already passed out drunk. Below in the city and port it was the same, the noise loud enough to be heard from the castle which made Daemon dispatch the castle garrison down to maintain order as much as possible.
Though Daelius had guaranteed his mother personally commanded all men to be very respectful while in the Targaryen ancestral seat, men were always going to be men, especially before going to war, so Daemon would rather be cautious.
Once tired of all the manly interaction, Daemon pulled his cousin to accompany him back to the Stone Drum where two beauties were awaiting them, brought by one of his gold cloaks from the city’s brothel. One he did not remember seeing before while the other was his favorite from the island. When satisfied enough with the newer one, he made sure to watch her drink the moontea he asked Maester Gerardys to prepare beforehand.
The next day, well into mid-morning, Daemon gathered with the captains, sergeants and Saera’s commander at the room of the Painted Table to properly start strategizing their plans. They talked and discussed for hours into the afternoon, the discussions showing Daemon his lack of experience when it came to the matter of war. It was a world away from commanding men to protect a city or participate in petty sellswords fights, but those experiences still taught him useful insights he was able to bring to the table.
Once they came into agreement, as much as they possibly could considering they did not had the full picture of how the state of the Stepstones truly was at the moment, each one went their own way to prepare their men. They would be sailing early next morning, the stop at Driftmark useful to give Reggio’s own ships and men more time to rendezvous with them. Daemon had already sent a messenger to the Prince days prior so he already knew to be ready for when Saera sent her own messenger, his fleet would be soon underway as well.
He waited for a few more minutes in the chamber for the arrival of Ser Robert who had already been waiting.
“Ser Robert Quince, Commander.” Ser Randyll Barret announced before bowing and leaving.
“Ser Robert, thank you for making the time.” Daemon greeted the portly man.
“No problem, my Prince. I am here to serve at the leisure of your family.” He answered, his words sounding genuine and not some forced pleasantry.
“Please sit, pour yourself some wine.” Daemon said gesturing to the chairs around the painted table.
“Thank you, my Prince.” Ser Robert nodded and made himself comfortable.
“I must admit, Ser Robert.” Daemon started leaning on the table to look closer to the man, slightly squinting his eyes to observe every reaction on his face. “Your ascent is quite something. From a low born landless knight to a household knight within these walls. And now years later you are Dragonstone tax collector and the one to oversee the island port.”
“Well, my Prince, I always knew I wanted to be more than what I was born into and so I worked hard to earn it.”
“I respect that, truly.” Daemon gave him a nod of approval. “What about your loyalty to my family, to our island?”
“I may not be from Dragonstone, my Prince but here it’s where I found the chances to raise and be someone.” Ser Robert replied, still proudly but not arrogantly so. “To give my family a better life. Thanks to your family, of course but especially your father.”
“How so?” Daemon asked in surprise. He did faintly remember seeing Ser Robert in the corridors when he was still just a guard during Prince Baelon’s short tenure as Prince of Dragonstone but nothing more than that.
“Prince Baelon was the first to recognize my talents laid elsewhere instead of the sword. I’m much more efficient with my letters and numbers.” He answered with a small smile. “Your father gave me quite the defeat in the training yard once. After that, he allowed me to peruse the library freely and whenever he came to Dragonstone asked about what I had learned, then made me put that knowledge to good use” Ser Robert explained. “The former maester said once he thought the Prince intended to make me the next Castellan once the older one retired… But then that tragedy happened and Ser Alfred was chosen instead.”
Daemon took on his words, mind whirring with the coincidence that his father once might have wanted this man as castellan of the castle and now years later he was planning on the same.
“So you covet the position?” He asked critically looking at the older knight again.
“I would be a fool not to, my Prince.” Ser Robert said with a chuckle, just as honestly as he had been so far. “But I’m satisfied with the position I’m currently in and would never dare overreach beyond what I’ve earned, to do that would be a disrespect to the people who gave me all of this.”
“Hm… What about Ser Afra? Is he a good castellan, you think?” Daemon asked.
“He does enough of a decent job.” He shrugged, now trying to hide his true thoughts. “Though most of the work is done by Maester Gerardys. Ser Broome likes to waste his time in drinks and whores a bit too much, in my opinion.”
“So I’ve heard.” Daemon sneered, the last couple days his opinion of the man only fell more and more, and each new report from his gold cloaks made him want to gut the bastard. “I also heard that he is quite displeased with the king’s choice in heir.”
“Ser Broome has too much of a loose mouth when drunk.” Ser Robert echoed the maester’s words, a scowl marring his face. “And too disrespectful by far.”
“What are your thoughts about my brother’s choice, Ser?” He asked the question that would either truly make or break the older knight.
“I was raised by a mother and two sisters while my father was drunk and gone half the time, Prince Daemon, unlike many men I know and value a woman’s true worth.” The knight answered, the first time he actually raised his chin a little. “I am certain Princess Rhaenyra can grow into a good heir as much as any boy. If memory serves she was quite the precocious and lively little girl.”
“She still is.” Daemon smiled fondly of the memories from years ago when he spent moons here with his niece, peacefully and happy. “And she will be a great Queen one day. But before that she will rule this castle and this island, I don’t wish people like Ser Alfir sullying her rightful seat.” He added then looked pointedly at the older knight. “From all my men heard from him at the taverns, he is no longer for this world. If you are amenable to it, you can replace him as castellan.”
“It would be an honor, my Prince.” Ser Robert said without flinching over Daemon’s implication. “But the position is only granted by the king himself, or prince or princess of Dragonstone.”
“I’m sure Maester Gerardys’ good word and advice can sway my brother and if not, my niece will make sure good men such as you are the ones to serve her here.”
“If the Princess and you think I’m worthy of the position, then I will be honoured to do the work.”
“Good, Ser Robert.” Daemon nodded and stood up, the knight doing the same. “Start readying yourself then, by the next moon the position will likely be yours.”
--
After dining by the hearth, a small table set there for them, Daemon was now showing the Painted Table and the map of Westeros more properly to his cousin.
“Driftmark is the seat of the Velaryons, right?” Daelius asked resting a hand beside the name of the island. “The other Valyrian family mother’s niece married into?”
“Yes.” Daemon nodded then looked at him contemplatively. “I’m not sure what her husband, Lord Corlys, wants but whatever it may be it will be best not to reveal who you really are.”
“Mother advised the same.” His cousin commented. “Said I was to only trust you, not even the men she chose to send.”
“How flattering auntie being so soft for me.” Daemon joked earning a snort from Daelius.
“Surprisingly so.” He said, then frowned. “Shae was really angry mother allowed me to come but forbade her. Stormed to Volantis and did not even showed up to give me farewell.”
“Siblings.” Daemon sighed before downing a cup of wine. “Complicated creatures.”
“Mother might have let her come if she knew more than just to wield a dagger and play with numbers.” Daelius shrugged. “She never accepted to learn sword with me, thinks a dagger is all she needs.”
“Not in the warfront, it is not.”
“Shae is as stubborn as mother.” He rolled his eyes but smiled fondly. “It’s why she’s the favourite. They’re too much alike for their own good, that place will turn into chaos without me there to supervise them.”
“They will manage. Keep your head in the here and now so that you can go back to them.” Daemon advised.
“Is that how you manage to fight so well? To always return from battle unscathed?” Daelius asked curiously.
“There was always too much at stake for me not to.” He answered honestly, fingers tracing Dragonstone name on the table. “Now even more… So yes, I focus on the fight and only the fight. On the present. It’s the only way I can make sure there’s a future where I’ll be coming back home.”
“Then I shall learn to do the same, cousin.” Daelius gave him a grateful smile and then stood up. “Now we better get some good rest.”
“I have some unfinished business to attend to.” Daemon said, eager to get to the Dragonmont and seal the fate of one more vermin, then tipped his goblet in salute before adding. “But have a good night sleep, cousin. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
--
With a last longing look towards the castle his ancestors build, Daemon took to the skies with Caraxes once again.
The ships were almost prepared to sail, all men accounted for and their initial provisions well stored, so Daemon decided to leave to High Tide beforehand. Driftmark was just a half a day sail away from Dragonstone while just a couple hours on dragonback, so Daemon would have plenty of time to see what Corlys and Rhaenys wanted before the ships arrived.
As soon as Caraxes approached the island Daemon glimpsed a silver-grey young dragon lazily flying around Driftmark, then its attention turned to them and the dragon flew closer to them, meeting Caraxes in the air and allowing Daemon to see someone astride the dragon. Clearly Rhaenys’ boy has been doing nothing but fly his dragon considering the growth the dragon had since last time Daemon saw it; it was even slightly bigger than Syrax.
After a minute or two circling each other, both dragons made their way to the beach below castle High Tide.
“I see your mother taught you well.” Daemon commented when both of them climbed down their dragons.
“Aye, she did.” Laenor, also a little taller than Daemon remembered, said with a wide smile. “It is good to see you again, Prince Daemon. Father and mother have been eagerly waiting an answer from you, they will be happy to see you.”
“Well then, take me to them. I’m short on time.” He said after putting his gloves in one of the pockets of Caraxes saddle bag.
“Right this way.” Laenor gestured towards the castle.
The two walked in silence, arriving on the main courtyard of the castle right when Rhaenys was walking through the doors.
“I knew I heard Caraxes familiar roars.” She said stopping in front of them and then offered Daemon a smile. “It is good to see you, cousin.”
“You letter got me quite curious, cousin.” Daemon flashed her a grin.
“Good… Laenor go join your sister and the maester, you neglected your studies long enough.” Rhaenys turned her violet eyes to her son, her expression brokering no argument.
It was with amusement Daemon watched the young boy huff and roll his eyes but dutifully follow his mother’s orders.
“I take it I was right about you holing up in Dragonstone.” Rhaenys commented after a minute, then gestured for him to follow her. “Viserys looked tense and worried for days before I finally got him to talk whatever was on his mind. He had suspicions you were back.” She said while they walked through the castle corridors. “Then rumors started on the city so I figured he was probably right. I did not expect you to be back so fast though.”
“I had business to take care of.” Was all he said.
“Something to do with the attack on Baela, I would wager.” She affirmed more than asked. “It is really impressive how you always keep yourself well informed of things happening here even across the sea.”
“Someone ought to look after House Targaryen since the current king does not.” Daemon retorted trying to sound impassive but unable to hide a scowl.
“You heard about Viserys’ latest then?” Rhaenys questioned, stopping before the doors to the Great Hall.
“That he chose the Hightower whelp over your daughter? Yes, I heard.” He replied then gave her a sarcastic grin. “How very unfortunate for Corlys and you. I’m sure you all must be bereft over another lost opportunity to sit the Iron Throne.”
“Daemon…” Rhaenys started with a cautious but also warning tone.
“Spare me, Rhaenys.” He hissed. “We both know neither you nor Corlys would give a second thought before taking the crown from my niece given the slightest chance.”
“Is a Hightower doing it any better then?” She asked with a scowl of her own.
“No, it will definitely make for a boring fight.” Daemon joked with a non-chalant shrug, not trusting Rhaenys with his true thoughts or plans. “But if you and your husband called me here thinking I would stand with you and against…”
“Please, Daemon, I know better than to hope for that.” Rhaenys interrupted him, rolling her eyes. “Corlys wants to talk with you because you seem to have a cause in common. Something of a more imminent problem.”
Daemon only hummed and then observed Rhaenys push the double doors open, gesturing for him to enter.
“Behave yourselves, boys.” She said cheekily before shutting the doors behind Daemon.
“Daemon, I’m glad you came.” Corlys said standing up from on the chairs in front of the hearth.
“I had some time to spare to sate my curiosity.” He commented, eyes quickly taking on the great hall where the Driftwood Throne sat imposingly surrounded by all the treasures and trinkets Corlys acquired during his voyages.
“Come, let us share a drink and talk business.” Corlys gestured to the chair beside his, a round small table in the middle with two goblets and a pitcher of something. “I thought you might like this vintage from Yi Ti.”
“I never say no for a good drink.” Daemon said sitting on the chair and watched Corlys pour a light brown liquid on both goblets.
The two of them drank and savoured the strong drink in silence for a moment.
“Really good stuff.” Daemon confirmed, reaching for the pitcher to pour himself some more.
“Really good and expensive stuff.” Corlys said with a chuckle, downing the rest of his. “And hard to come by and convince the YiTish to sell it to outsiders but I have my ways.”
“Too bad you lost your convincing skills then or else you might have gained your daughter a crown.” Daemon commented with a wolfish grin.
“I would have never put me and my family in such place of humiliation if I had known your brother was wetting his cock in that Hightower girl.” Corlys sneered.
Daemon only chuckled, not believing that for a second but preferred to sip at the tasteful drink instead.
“So tell me, Corlys, what is it you wanted to talk about?” He asked when it was clear the man would not speak otherwise.
“A while ago, that Hightower brought to the council his concerns about rumors of you getting involved in some way with the Three Whores.” Corlys finally spoke, looking attentively to the prince’s reactions. “I figured you were probably interested about what has been happening in the Stepstones.”
“Good to know at least one of my brother’s councilmembers has some brain.” Daemon said.
“Former councilmember.” Corlys corrected, another sneer marring his face and rage shining in his blue eyes. “The King has slighted House Velaryon one too many times so I left. And now I intent to solve the problem your brother is unwilling to even look at.”
“Is that so?” Daemon questioned, narrowing his eyes at the man.
“House Velaryon’s origins reach back to Old Valyria, as you know.” Corlys spoke again after a minute of silent ponderation, switching to High Valyrian. “More ancient even than House Targaryen according to some texts... But unlike the Targaryens and many other Valyrians, we were no dragonlords. For centuries, my house had to scratch out an existence from the sea with grit and luck.” He continued passionately, earning Daemon’s attention and interest. “When I ascended the Driftwood Throne, I knew what I wanted. So I went out and seized it. Unlike every other lord of the realm, I can say that I built my house’s high seat with the strength of mine own back.”
“Well, it is quite an impressive seat.” Daemon had to agree, looking around again. Unlike Driftmark castle, High Tide was grand and opulent, worth of such old and Valyrian family.
“I’ve always thought of you and I as having been made from the same cloth, Daemon.” Corlys commented, unbothered by the prince’s usual careless and joking attitude in the midst of a serious discussion.
“I wasn’t aware you had a king for a brother.” He said sarcastically.
“We are both men who have had to cut our way through the world. And we have been passed over too often.”
Daemon stood up then, not liking the man’s clear insinuation about Daemon lost heirship, and tiring of this conversation going in circles. He stood by the lit hearth with his back turned to the Velaryon.
“Did you call me to Driftmark to remind me of my low standing, Lord Corlys, or was there an actual reason?”
“You do have an interest in the troubles occurring in the Stepstones, right?” Corlys questioned just to be sure.
“A myrish prince feeding Westerosi sailors to the crabs. Boldly taking control of shipping lanes important to our continent’s trade, tolling everyone egregiously. Of course I’m interested.” He answered.
“I petitioned the King to send my navy into the territory for moons, to root out the evil before it was too late but he denied me again and again. Now things are only worse there.”
“It was never my brother’s strongest trait.” Daemon muttered bitterly, reminded once more how unworthy of the crown Viserys was.
“What?” Corlys asked with a slight confused frown.
“Being king.” He said and then turned to look again at the Velaryon.
“He was never meant to be one.” Corlys agreed just as bitterly.
“Perhaps.” Daemon shrugged and went to sit again.
“The Crabfeeder is backed by powerful entities within the Free Cities who wish to see Westeros weakened.”
“The Three Whores only wished for some more advantageous gains with their trade but they got too greedy, as you already know.” Daemon replied what little he was able to learn during his trips. “And apparently they lost control of their unhinged Myrish prince, or so my sources claimed. Hence all the feeding people to crabs and enslaving whoever pretty people they can get their hands on.”
“The king’s failures have allowed him to become bold and accumulate strength, as I advised it would happen.” Corlys said. “If those shipping lanes fall for good, my house will be crippled. As well as many other houses that have their earnings from sea trades. I will not have Driftmark beggared while King Viserys idles himself with feasts and tourneys.”
“Careful, Lord Corlys.” Daemon’s tone was falsely calm but his eyes said all he wanted to. “I will speak of my brother as I wish. You will not.”
“Daemon, waiting in the Stepstones is a chance for you to prove your worth to any who might yet doubt it.” Corlys quickly added, leaning forward in his chair, knowing it was pointless to turn the prince against the king. “We are the realm’s second sons. Our worth is not given. It must be made.”
“Why ever else would I be interested in those cursed islands, old man?” Daemon retorted, not surprised people underestimated him so much. “For my brother’s and his reign sake? That is something long done and over with.”
“What are you saying, Daemon?” He asked warily and looking at the Targaryen with new eyes, surprised by this unexpected turn in the conversation.
“Ships sail from Dragonstone as we speak. With over 800 hundred of mine Gold Cloaks.” Daemon answered, now that he understood what exactly Corlys had called him for, there was no reason not to take advantage of the opportunity presented. “They sail with an army lent to me by Volantis too. And from Pentos, an old friend sends is own ships and men as well.”
It was amusing to see Corlys eyes widen slightly, no doubt not expecting those words from Daemon. Everyone never truly saw who he was, never saw his worth, were always eager to dismiss him as some spoiled prince with a temper and nothing more. He would prove them, he would prove Viserys, wrong in thinking so little of him. He would teach them all a lesson of what Daemon Targaryen was really made out of.
“What I am saying, Lord Corlys, is that I intent to take over and win the Stepstones.” He added before the older man could react to his words. “I want glory and I want a crown of mine own making. I want and will do as my ancestors once did: conquer a kingdom for myself.”
Notes:
Do not panic just yet!! Alicent's pregnancy may have been just Otto desperately assuming things too soon but only 3 people know the moontea didn't work. I have a plan in how to make the "rumors" seem true plus make it all even worse for her 🫣
*yep I totally snatched that line from Tyrion cause I thought it something very fitting for Larys to think/say 🤭
I really liked the idea of trying something different from canon for many of these characters and Larys was included in the list!Alicent own brand of delusional thoughts and morals, are we even surprised at this point 😑 but Rhaenyra ain't having none of it and won't allow people to have any of it either!!
After some of you guys comments, I'm really leaning into changing some of incel Criston's plot too, still not sure what exactly I'll be doing w him but as per his canon sensibilities he wont want to side w a "whore" 🙄Amanda saying what a lot of us think of the Velaryons, auntie is here to slay bitches period 😌
And much like Rhaenyra, Laena is the one to pay for her parents' decisions. And no, here her uncle is not Vaemond, I'll be following book verse where he was Corlys' nephew, we will get more about the Velaryon fam in the next chapter!!Listen, most of Daemon's part of the chapter was just my mind going total crazy about all the dragon lore and Dragonstone and Valyria and whatnot, so yeah 😅
I'm not good a certain types of descriptions but I hope I did a decent job w my little description of Dragonstone little city 🤗 instead of it just basically be a ruined fishing village I decided to do something more of it, more Old Valyrian worth!!
About the dragon armor... Although I loved the autor RedandBlack(izumi2) own thing about it in greatness in black silk (super recommend this amazing fic if you haven't read yet!!), I actually remembered this idea about old valyria using dragon armors from a Jonerys fic i read ions ago but I could not find it in my bookmarks or history anymore, if any Jonerys peers know which fic it is pls let know 🥺
As badass as a dornish tale it is, a scorpion to the eye??? Yeah, I don't believe that or that the dornish were the firsts to think of using it against dragons 🤷🏾♀️
And since Caraxes shape had to come from somewhere, I thought Meraxes would be a good choice and this is +- how a imagine her https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626578004235380/Nope, I aint giving ser Alfred the traitor Broome the limelight of dying on-screen but Daemon certainly made his death as painful as Gerold's 😏
The S as a scarlet letter for Saera's personal banner was too good an opportunity to pass 🤭
Otto and Viserys thinking of Daemon as Maegor come again meanwhile boy is out here aiming for being Aegon I reborn, these two wont see what hit them!!Links for the story and this chapter if you're interested:
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/dragonstone/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-25/See you in the next one 🥰
Kisses 😘
Chapter 27: Chapter Twenty-Six: 106 AC Part XI - Dead sailors tell no tales
Notes:
Heeelloooooouu readers 🥰
I'm sorry it took so long again to update 💔 I wanted to finish this chapter in it's entirety before posting but alas writer's block is preventing that 😭 So I decided to post just this part that is written already so you guys wouldn't be waiting even longer than you already waited!!
There was supposed to be a lot more of the happenings in KL, the marriage and other stuff, but since I can't write anything right now we will have just these events goin on in Driftmark
So we will get to know a bit more of the Velaryon clan, my take on their house and members, and there's more to come later 🤗Trigger warnings for this chapter: explicit reference of/implied child sexual abuse, explicit dismemberment of body parts and murder. I'm earning that E rating alright 🫣 Daemon's own unique moral compass is a warning on itself!
Writer's block is still going strong so idk when I'll get to finish the next part of the chapter and update it, I apologize in advance if it takes a while longer again 😔
High Valyrian = bold italic. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my mother tongue!
Now, do have a fun reading!!
See you in the end notes 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenys sat in front of the vanity mirror, idly brushing her black tresses while her husband was hunched over maps by the table in the corner of their bed chamber.
“That boy following Daemon like a shadow…” She started saying, putting the brush down and turning to look at Corlys. “Doesn’t he seem oddly familiar?”
“I couldn’t say, my darling, I did not paid him any attention. There were more important matters at hand.” Corlys answered distractedly.
Rhaenys huffed and rolled her eyes. Though she understood the importance to deal with the problem the Crabfeeder became it did not mean she had to be happy about her husband going to war.
Daemon’s ships had arrived in Spicetown late into the night, when they had just started dining, and so her husband set out to order the servants to quickly arrange the great hall so he could receive Daemon’s captains and such with a hastily prepared banquet. Despite the late hour, her husband and cousin locked themselves in the great hall with almost two dozen men for quite some time to discuss their newly forged alliance. Which meant Rhaenys was left to dine alone with her children and her husband’s relatives.
Rhaenys met some of the high rank men, and caught a glimpse of the boy who quickly became Daemon’s shadow from the little she saw before and after diner. And there was just something about his face, his posture, the glint in his brown eyes that was so familiar to her but Rhaenys could not put her finger on it. Shaking those thoughts for the moment, she stood up and went to her husband.
Their relationship had been strained for long weeks after Corlys made his intentions to marry Laena off known and she would have remained treating him coldly for many more moons to come. However, some late life crisis or something hit Rhaenys when she had to spent too much time around a few of the courtiers heavy with child and even some of Corly’s relatives were also having babies and being pregnant. Rhaenys suddenly felt the desire to be with child again, that deep instinctively need to grow a child in her womb for moons and birth another babe to call her own.
So she made peace with her husband despite his faults and made her own wishes known, Corlys was all too happy to oblige her of course. Though he had been understanding and respectful of her wish not to be simply a broodmare to birth him a hundred children, considering her family’s history, she knew he longed for more. He loved Laenor and Laena, she had no doubts about it, even if he did not always showed it to them properly and would be satisfied to have just the two to carry their family legacy. But given the chance, Rhaenys knew he would have wanted to have other children.
For more than a decade since Laena’s birth she turned a blind eye to that, not wishing for pregnancy anymore, happy to dote on her sweet boy and teach just the best to her girl. She was satisfied in having and raising just her two darlings, no matter Corlys longing nor his family’s barbs about their lack of more children when his brother’s wife could not stop popping babies left and right.
However, something changed in Rhaenys these last couple moons. Despite the fear she always had to end up like her grandmother, to end up like her cousin, Rhaenys just could not ignore such strong will as that of her own body. Now they had little time to make that happen before Corlys was off to war.
“Forget your war for a moment, my love.” She whispered behind him, encircling her arms around his torso. “Come to bed. We ought to not waste any chance before you leave.”
“Are you still sure another child is what you want, darling?” Corlys asked, resting a hand above hers on his chest. Despite his elation for her sudden decision, he could not forget how dangerous a pregnancy for her could be.
“Yes, husband.” Rhaenys replied without hesitation. “I want a child growing in my womb by the time you leave these shores.”
Corlys smiled, satisfied with her determination to have his seed take root once more at long last and eagerly let her take him to their bed. Another child to boost House Velaryon would soon come he was certain, hopefully another boy to show the realm which Valyrian the gods favored. Another dragonrider to his family, as was their due.
--
Daemon grunted irritably when once again he turned on another wrong corridor; High Tide was not the biggest of castles but had a decent size and was built with too many turns and twists for Daemon’s lack of knowledge of the place.
It was too late into the night that only a few guards were patrolling the hallways and he would rather be chewed by Caraxes than ask for help. After the dragging and tiring dinner with Corlys, Daemon accompanied some of the men down to Spicetown port where they would spend the night in their ships. Since Daelius had been too uncomfortable with Rhaenys’ keen violet eyes observing him, he preferred to do the same instead of staying in the castle so Daemon went down to the port to make his cousin would be safe staying there.
Only after a few pints of ale with the men did Daemon walked back to the castle and had been walking in circles for minutes now trying to find the guest room Rhaenys showed to him earlier.
In another wrong turn, though he was almost sure this was the corridor that led to the library Laena pointed out when accompanying both him and her mother to the guest quarters earlier, Daemon stumbled in a disturbing scene: that same Laena cornered against a wall by a tall man who was shamelessly fondling with her inexistent breasts and curves. Addled by the alcohol Daemon’s mind easily imagined instead other two girls who also had silver hair, no matter the different shades, it was Valyrian silver all the same.
“What the fuck is this?” Daemon hissed through gritted teeth, hand already reaching for Dark Sister.
The man turned with a wild look of fear in his eyes and at once Daemon recognized him as one of Corlys’ brothers which only made him seethe in anger more.
“Oh Prince Daemon, what a unexpected surprise.” The disgusting Velaryon said but still did not let go of Laena, hand gripping her upper arm tightly. “Me and my niece were just…”
“I know exactly what you were doing.” Daemon sneered and in the next minute was pushing the man hard against the wall, Dark Sister on his throat. “She is a child you piece of horseshit!”
“Don’t be a hypocrite, everyone knows you like them young too.” The Velaryon spat, green-grey eyes shining with both fear and disdain.
“Young, not children.” Daemon retorted, incensed by the man daring to accuse him of such disgusting and deplorable act. He may have bedded plenty of young girls but they were all above the age of five and ten, all flourished, all willing. “Not little girls not out of childhood yet.”
“Laena is old enough for this and it is none of your business.” He said with a deep scowl, trying to discreetly reach for the dagger on his own belt. “Go get your nose in your own family affairs.”
Daemon growled at the man and pushed his sword more against his neck, enough for a shallow cut to form and blood stain both steel and skin, making the Velaryon hiss in pain. Looking down, Daemon found Laena crumpled on the floor, blue eyes as big as saucers looking up at them with nothing but terror.
“How long has he been doing this?” He asked, for the man’s words could only mean this was not the first time, but Laena did not answer. Too terrified to do so.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Daemon stepped away from the Velaryon but remained with Dark Sister aimed at him, the sharp point of the sword keeping him in place.
“Come, Laena, stand up.” He said with a gentler tone, offering his hand to her. “I will not hurt you. This scum won’t hurt you anymore.”
Laena finally snapped her eyes away from her uncle, looking at Prince Daemon instead and after a minute finally took his offered hand with her own trembling hand. Her mind was still too hazed to fully comprehend what was happening, every new time her uncle got her alone it took longer for her to come back from the far away world she fled to.
“How long has he been doing this? How many times?” Daemon asked again, eyes glancing down at her now standing beside him for a second before returning his stare at the Velaryon in front of them. Keen eyes caught the man’s hand slowly reaching for a dagger.
“I… I do-don’t know.” She whispered, it felt like an eternity ever since her uncle started dragging her into dark rooms and unguarded corners, since he started touching her.
It was her fault really, always walking around the castle late in the night after spending too much time in the library, always wearing nightdresses instead of a lady’s proper clothing. Never brave enough to tell someone, to fight back.
“Did he force himself on you?” Daemon asked with a tightly clenched jaw, if she did not even know how many times this happened then it could only mean it had been going on for a long time. No matter his distrust of Corlys and his distance from Rhaenys, their daughter was still family all the same.
“He-he tried.” Laena answered feeling a shiver run up her spine at the painful memory of the couple times her uncle tried to take her maidenhead. Unsuccessful as it may have been, it had still hurt nonetheless.
“Shut up you stupid girl!” The Velaryon hissed angrily despite the sword still digging at his throat.
“Hm.” Daemon squinted his eyes and then grinned evilly; he pushed Dark Sister down hard all the way to the Velaryon’s belly, almost cutting through his clothes. “Hold this, Laena.”
Laena took a second to understand but when she did, blue eyes glinted with something else other than fear and quickly she held the pommel of Dark Sister. The Velaryon saw that as the perfect opportunity to try raising his own dagger but Daemon was faster and quickly snatched the dagger from him. Not surprised it was a beautifully crafted Valyrian steel dagger.
“When I was Lord Commander of the City Watch, do you know how I punished rapists such as you?” Daemon asked using the dagger to rip a piece of his tunic.
“I’m no rapist.” The Velaryon spat, angrily glaring at Laena. “My niece was all too eager to flaunt her body around. I only took what was offered.”
Daemon looked unimpressed at the man, not surprised by the excuse, then swiftly bind his hands with the cloth despite his struggles. Ripping another piece, he shoved it so far into the pig’s mouth that made him gag.
“Wrong answer.” He hissed getting up on the man’s face again. “Me and my men were happy to cut off those rapists' tiny cocks, very slowly. I think that’s just a fit punishment for you too.”
The Velaryon trashed and tried to say or scream something but all that left his gagged mouth was gurgled noises, not enough to attract any attention unless a guard was to pass by that corridor. Hopefully none would. Daemon pulled the man’s breeches down and did not mind to dirty his hands for a minute with his limp ugly cock if it meant giving his cousin justice.
Laena closed her eyes and turned her head away while tightly holding the Valyrian steel sword, images flashing in her mind’s eye of being forced down on cold stones naked and then feeling her uncle painfully try to force it’s way inside her most intimate part. A part that she was supposed to only give to her future husband.
It was with wicked glee Daemon started cutting through flesh, slowly but harshly, satisfied in seeing the terror and pain on the Velaryon’s eyes this time and hearing his muffled screams. His trashing body only making things worse for him and much better for Daemon; except when piss joined the mess of blood in the half cut cock. With a sneer of disgust he slashed the rest of useless meat with a hard tug of the blade. A second later it was the Velaryon’s body that crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Daemon then crouched on the floor beside the Velaryon and took the cloth off his mouth before pushing the man’s own cock inside instead, then ripped his tunic open with the dagger and used it to carve the word rapist on his chest. Standing up, he finally looked at Laena again who was now watching them with a horrified look but Daemon could still see the glint of satisfaction in her blue eyes as well.
“Here.” Daemon said offering her the dagger and taking Dark Sister from her hands. “His fate is yours to decide now. He will either bleed out to death before someone finds him or will be able to survive.” He explained glancing briefly to the steady pool of blood forming on the floor. “It’s your decision if you want to be the one to give the final blow or make his life miserable. If the letter, I can burn the skin to stop some of the bleeding.”
Laena looked up at the prince and down at her uncle, then at her left hand now stained with blood from the dagger. His blood, the same blood that ran through her veins and yet that did not mean nothing to him when he touched her, when he tried to take away what was hers to give. For the first time, Laena felt rage, deep boiling rage instead of fear and shame.
With a single nod of her head, Laena approached her uncle and crouched down beside him before shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. It took a minute but finally her uncle green grey eyes opened and as soon as they focused enough to recognize her face, Laena started stabbing him anywhere and everywhere her hands could reach.
“It’s done.” Daemon said resting a hand on Laena’s shoulder so she would stop stabbing the long dead man. “He’s gone, Laena. He won’t hurt you anymore from whatever hell he is now.”
That was not true, Laena knew, for even when still alive her uncle haunted her nightmares. He would keep on haunting her from the dead, hurting her through the memories but it was still satisfying to have been the last face he saw before dying because she was the one killing him. Finally fighting back.
She dropped the dagger beside the body and stood up, then followed Prince Daemon to his guest room. They had tried their luck long enough and soon someone would stumble across that gruesome scene; she needed to be safely away in her room before that. Washing the blood, cleaning herself from the fear and the shame and the disgust for the last time.
“Please, do not tell mother.” Laena whispered avoiding looking at the prince. “Or anyone.”
“If that is what you want then this can be our secret.” Daemon conceded despite wanting to rage at Rhaenys about where the fuck she was while her own daughter was being abused under her nose. “You should still confide in someone you trust. Bottling it all up will only eat you from the inside.”
It was hypocritical from Daemon to give such advice since all he ever did was bottle everything away in the farthest and darkest corners of his mind and heart. Never confronting anything, never talking about nothing with no one, always keeping it all inside to rot slowly. That did not mean he wished that to anyone, less of all someone from his family, someone who had no fault for the depravity and wickedness of the world they were born into.
Laena just shook a no with her head and then wished him good night before scurrying to her own rooms. The one person she thought she could trust above all else failed to ever notice what was being done to her, even if it was her daughter that was happening to; and now the one true friend she had was far away, living her own dark days.
It could be years before Laena ever saw Rhaenyra again and hopefully by then she would be healed enough not to feel the need to burden her cousin with such thing. It was done and over with. A closed chapter of her life she would move on from, eventually. No one needed to know anymore. And as the saying went on Driftmark ports, dead sailors tell no tales.
--
It was with unimpressed eyes Rhaenys watched Corlys keep on raging at the guards and servants a whole day after his brother’s butchered corpse was found, wanting answers, wanting the culprit found. She sighed with disappointment at her husband’s reaction. Yes, it was his brother and this was a complete scandal to the family but it was well deserved, for the carving on the corpse’s chest told them exactly why he was killed.
‘Good fucking riddance.’ Rhaenys thought with a sneer before turning to leave the great hall, paying no mind to her enraged husband and his oldest nephew, nor to the crying wife. Of Corlys two brothers, the second born Velaryon was the one she disliked the most. He was too arrogant, and disrespectful and righteous over House Velaryon’s fortune and standing that was earned by their ancestors and Corlys himself, with not a single help from him.
Besides, he and his cursed wife were the ones who loved to throw jabs at her for not providing enough children to the House just because he kept on impregnating his wife and she birthed him only boys. Sadly now Driftmark castle would be passed over to his oldest son, and Vaemond was no better than his father.
Leaving Velaryons affairs be dealt by the Velaryons, Rhaenys went to find her own family. Perhaps with this alliance between Corlys and Daemon, this would be a chance for her to rekindle her relationship with her cousin, if not going back to what they used to be before she left the capital as a married woman then at least start anew. Sometimes Rhaenys missed her Targaryen family and felt way too lonely in a household full of people that were not her blood, people she was forced to live and play nice just because it was her husband’s family. It was in those moments she could best understand the need most Targaryens had in marrying their own.
After a guard informed her children and cousin were down by the beach, Rhaenys walked there. She smiled as soon as she saw Daemon and her children beside Seasmoke, her cousin likely teaching them something about dragons; though sadly her girl may never know the happiness of riding a dragon of her own. Meleys and Caraxes were further away by the side, lazily sunbathing. But what surprised her was the presence of the dark skinned boy there, way too calm and comfortable being that close to dragons.
Could it be that in his latest travel through Essos, Daemon found a long lost bastard of his? Rhaenys wondered observing the boy with narrowed eyes. He seemed a bit too old to be Daemon’s, almost as tall as him and with a face almost entirely devoid of childish or teenage youthfulness, but maybe he only looked older than his actual age.
“Mother!” Laena exclaimed excited when she reached them, looking utterly delighted. “Prince Daemon is teaching Laenor how to take me on Seasmoke. He already likes me.”
“Seasmoke likes everyone.” Laenor said with a roll of his eyes, still not wishing to share this with his sister.
“Good then, it will make it easier to take your sister for a ride soon.” Rhaenys arched her eyebrow, making clear once more he should not act like that and should share such marvelous experience with his sister.
“Meleys is big enough for you both.” He still grumbled.
“Once your father leaves, I’ll be too busy running things to have much time to ride with either of you.” She retorted to which her son huffed, petulant as ever.
“Or too busy pampering a new babe.” He said with a slight scowl.
“A new babe?” Daemon asked looking at her with surprise. “I thought you were done with all that.”
“So did I but a woman’s body has its own will sometimes.” Rhaenys replied with a shrug, then turned her violet eyes to the boy. “What is it your name again?”
“Belicho, Princess Rhaenys. Well met.” He said, his Common not with as heavy accent as she expected he would have.
“Him and I were just about to leave to Spicetown.” Daemon interjected, seeming tense for whatever reason, raising her suspicions even more. “It’s enough lesson for a day, the dragon is getting antsy.”
“How can you even tell?” Laena asked with wonder curiosity but Daemon only gave her a grin as answer.
“Well, then we will come with you and be your guide around the port.” Rhaenys said, less of an offer and more as an order. “There is not much for us to do anyways while Corlys and his family grieve and arrange the funeral.”
“You do not seem too affected by your brother-in-law’s death.” Daemon commented, the way he looked at her making her a little unnerved.
“Uncle Marley was insufferable.” Laenor was the one to comment, distractedly while petting his dragon. “I will not be missing him.”
“Don’t let your father hear that, darling.” Rhaenys chided him half-heartedly. “Shall we go?”
Daemon exchanged a look with the ‘Belicho’ boy that her keen eyes did not miss, something that showed how familiarized they were with each other. Rhaenys did not say anything though and then led them to Spicetown which was sure to be busier than ever, due the fleet that followed Daemon here.
Rhaenys and Daemon walked leisurely through the village while Laenor and Laena walked ahead of them excitedly pointing at everything to ‘Belicho’, who was surprisingly quite indulgent of her two children.
“When do you think the funeral will be held?” Daemon asked her in an attempt to draw her observant eyes away from Daelius. “No to be offensive but I actually have a timetable to meet with Reggio’s fleet.”
“It might take a while, I’m afraid, if Corlys and his nephews insist in harping on about finding the culprit.” Rhaenys answered fighting a roll of her eyes. “I would rather this was done with already.”
“You and your children don’t seem overtly sad about his death.” He commented, now his eyes were attentively observing his cousin.
“Marley was an insurable and deplorable man.” Rhaenys answered with a scowl. “Life here would have been easier if he and his wife knew how to remain in Driftmark castle instead of visiting all the time.”
“I did notice a certain tension between you and his wife. What’s that about?” Daemon questioned.
“If Corlys had not chosen to go gallivanting around the world for years and years, Evina would have been married to him instead.” She explained with a small grin. “Due their relation through Larissa Velaryon, she was the best candidate considered for him at the time.”
“But she married the deplorable brother instead. No wonder the tension and glares then.” He chuckled; though Corlys himself was not much better, his brother obviously was worse by far.
“Aye, and they married way before I came into the picture. So she was basically the lady of the castle for years.” Rhaenys said. “In Evina’s mind I took both from her, I guess.”
“Hmm… And the scandal about the reason he was killed, what is to be done about it?”
“It will be hidden away, of course.”
“Of course.”
“If the culprit is found, they will no doubt want to make up some embellished tale about seeking justice.” Rhaenys said with a displeased frown, not seeing the way her cousin smirked amusedly. “If not, then his death will have happened in some inconspicuous way.”
“A guard or a servant could say something though.” Daemon commented looking around, the people clearly still had no clue their Lord’s brother was dead.
“This is not Kings Landing, cousin.” She retorted. “Our household is loyal and trustworthy. If Corlys orders them to forget whatever they saw or heard, that is what they will do.”
“What about your orders? Do they listen to their Lady?” He asked in a mocking tone when saying her other tittle.
“I’ve rooted out Evina’s lickspittles from my castle long ago.” Rhaenys replied with a proud smile, that had been the very first thing their grandmother advised her to do when she married Corlys.
Daemon only hummed, not surprised about it considering she had been raised at the feet of Queen Alysanne and Prince Aemon. Before either of them could talk more, Daemon to try and see if she truly had no idea about what her own daughter had been going through and Rhaenys to try bridge the gap between them that has been there for far too long, a guard approached them.
“Lady Velaryon.” The man, clearly a household knight, said with a bow. “Lord Velaryon asked me to rely you a message.”
Rhaenys nodded and then walked to a secluded corner, the knight following after her while Daemon just gave them a unimpressed look before walking to meet with the children.
“What is it?” She asked.
“The Lord has decided to have the funeral at dusk today.” The knight replied. “Lord Velaryon asked for you and the children to go back to the castle to get ready.”
“Has the culprit been found then?” Rhaenys asked almost disappointed if that had been the case.
“No but Lord Aurion thinks it is best not to delay it further. But we are still searching the premises.”
“Well, Aurion can always be more reasonable than both his brothers combined.” She commented, grateful the younger Velaryon was able to put some sense into her husband’s thick head. “Go tell my husband we will be on our way shortly.”
The knight bowed again and then quickly left. Rhaenys sighed and then went to find Daemon and her kids, glad no one had paid attention to their exchange. She spotted them closer to the docks where Corlys crew was readying themselves for the travel to the Stepstones, right by the man organizing the few cages containing owls.
“Mother!” Laena exclaimed again excitedly. “Belicho knows all about using owls instead of ravens to carry messages.”
“Oh really?” She questioned looking at the boy intently. “Then you are from the high society of Volantis? Only they own and use the birds for that.”
“My father is one of the Triarch of Volantis.” Daelius answered easily without missing a beat. “We learn how to train the owls just as you here do with ravens. It is not so dissimilar though I think owls are a more reliable and intelligent species.”
“Is that who you allied yourself with, cousin, to gain a fleet and army from there?” Rhaenys turned her violet eyes to Daemon then.
“One of them, yes.” He answered with a shrug, feeling more relaxed now that he knew how good Daelius was under questioning, how easily and well he lied. ‘Congratulations auntie’ he thought amusedly.
“As nice as this walk has been, it is time to go back.” She said knowing she would not be gaining any more information from Daemon. “Corlys has finally decided to have his brother's funeral today.”
Her children nodded, expressions changing into resigned ones though solemn too, and stepped to her side for them to walk together this time; Daemon and the Volantene boy following silently behind.
--
Daemon and Daelius watched from High Tide castle’s terrace the funeral rites happening bellow, on a platform right by the edge of the water. The Velaryons threw their dead into the waters, to be buried and rest beside their Merling king instead of burning them like the dragonlords such as the Targaryens always did since the old days of Valyria. Daemon could not fathom such tragic after-death that was not one where he would be burned and allowed to return to dust; to be imprisoned to the bottomless pit of an ocean or river instead of soaring the air again as ashes created by fire, by dragon fire.
It was still a nice rite to watch, the priest’s speech short and succinct and Lord Corlys, as the head of the house, words to his brother even more so. How ironic for the proud Sea Snake to be spewing such horseshit on the behalf of the man who has been assaulting his only daughter, who has be touching the unwilling girl for Gods knew how long. If Daemon had not made a promise to Laena, he would have loved to see chaos ensue in the Velaryon household when knowing that man's despicable behavior.
But alas, Daemon was a man of his word, or at least he tried to be most of the time, and he would not reveal a secret that was not his to reveal. Nor would he jeopardize this alliance by revealing his hand in the murder just for some laughs, bigger and more important priorities were at stake after all. So Daemon dawned his chaotic urges in wine and brandy, keeping away when the crowd gathered in the terrace, Daelius a silent but comforting company next to him.
“Cruel, is it not, to shackle their souls instead of freeing them?” Rhaenys mused when she stopped by their side, no doubt done with all the people paying their respects.
“Spoken like a true dragon.” Daemon said, words a little slurred. “Good to know you still have some of that in you, cousin.”
“I will be a dragon and a Targaryen no matter how long shackled to the sea myself.” She retorted with a small frown, looking her cousin up and down, confused and curious by his behavior. She could only assume it because of the trauma of having attended too many funerals over the years, the Fourteen knew how she loathed them too. “You should take a break to drink something other than alcohol. Maybe eat some of the salmon tartlets, I remember you used to love those whenever we visited Dragonstone as kids.”
“Salmon tartlets? Never heard of that.” Daelius was the one to say something when it was clear his grumpy cousin would not, choosing instead to drink the rest of his pear brandy.
“It is small tarts with fillings of little pieces of grilled salmon covered by a savory and crunchy pastry.” Rhaenys explained, looking past Daemon to the so oddly familiar boy. “Dragonstone villagers invented it long ago due how plentiful the waters around the island are with salmon.”
“Now you are making my mouth water.” Daemon chuckled humorlessly.
“I will get some for us then.” Daelius said, giving a slight nod to Rhaenys before walking to the table where the food and drinks were.
“Who is the boy, Daemon?” She was quick to ask, curiosity gnawing at her every time she looked at the stranger’s familiar face. “I would say he is too old to be your bastard but alas, I cannot think of another explanation how he looks so familiar. Or why he is glued to your side at all times.”
“Oh why, dear cousin, perhaps he is glued to me because he is my lover. Maybe my son-lover.” Daemon grinned wickedly, swaying a little despite being leaning on the terrace parapet, uncaring for the twisted and not funny joke.
“I’m not Viserys, Daemon, you cannot fool or anger me with that behavior.” Rhaenys retorted, expression stern like the one she uses whenever lecturing her children.
“He is no one you should worry yourself about.” He said more seriously and irritated by her insistent probing. “Turn your attention to your own children instead. And maybe not sire another one.”
“I beg your pardon?” Rhaenys was taken aback, even more confused now. “What is that supposed to mean? Whatever hells has gotten into you?”
“I should be at the Stepstones by now, hacking people to pieces and not here in this drool mummer show.” He spit angrily, almost pouting, and mind to jumbled to follow a single thread of thought to have a proper conversation.
“Always so restless.” She sighed, softening instantly with the memory of the little four year old always running the whole Red Keep haggard with his energetic ways, ever only stopping when she bribed him with some savory pastry or another. “Why don’t you go sleep the drink off, huh? Corlys will be wanting to sail soon, tomorrow probably.”
Daemon grumbled something under his breath but easily went with Daelius when Rhaenys ordered him to take her cousin to his room, inelegantly shoving the tartlets in his mouth. Rhaenys sighed more amused than angry at Daemon’s antics, assuming again funerals were just too hard on him; they had after all lost more than half their family.
Still, his words about paying attention to her children nagged at her mind for hours afterwards, and made her linger more than usual at each of their rooms when putting them to bed, something she had not done in years.
Perhaps her cousin was right, she wondered when Laena held her tight until falling asleep that night. Perhaps Rhaenys should take the time to cling to her children more, to shadow them and pour attention on them until they begged her to stop, protect them more fiercely than she shamefully has not being doing lately. But that did not mean she could not grow another little sea dragon in her womb. And she would, Rhaenys repeated in her mind while Corlys rutted into her that night, praying to Meraxes to allow his seed to finally take root.
It would not be until a moon later Rhaenys would know her prayers had been answered. Though she would never know that it was the sacrifice carried out by Laena’s hands, her daughter’s hands, which granted Rhaenys her wish. A life for a life it was always the Fourteen’s demand, blood spilled so their fires could rule.
--
Despite Daemon’s restlessness to take flight and Corlys eagerness to leave for war, it took another two days to have all the ships ready to sail. Though the trade had decreased a lot due the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, and that not being Westeros best season, both Daemon’s and Corlys' provisions added together would provide their campaign a few moons with enough food and drink to their armies. Enough time for the King to reconsider his decision about the Stepstones, or so Corlys expected.
However, for Daemon those moons would give more necessary time for Saera to fully ensnare Volantis and maybe a few more of the Free Cities into throwing their lot and help in with them. At least that was what Daelius said his mother’s plans were, she was determined to make sure they succeeded, he said to him. To make sure that Daemon succeeded. Though still skeptical over it, to hear that still warmed his heart in a way he could not remember ever feeling while growing up; the adults around him, raising him, were never forthcoming in wanting something so simple as seeing Daemon thrive in life.
It was with renewed determination Daemon took to the skies three days later, one day after Corlys took charge in leading their now much bigger armada of ships - his heir and son unknowingly to everyone had stowed away in one of the ships to chase his dreams of adventure - and he did not leave without sending a raven towards Kings Landing; a small piece of paper with reassuring words meant for his niece’s eyes only. With Caraxes shining beautifully under the sunlight in his Valyrian steel armor and him donning his own, Daemon sent a prayer to Vhagar – and the Fourteen Flames as a whole – to lead his path in the battles to come. To give him victory. To protect his girls during his absence.
So he could finally succeed, could at last thrive. To make his niece and daughter proud. To make his aunt proud. To make him proud of himself for once in a too long life of loathing and disappointments.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
‘I fly to war, princess. By the time this reaches you I’ll be there already, fighting to conquer something of mine own. But I’ll come back for you, as you commanded of me. Yours and Baela’s faces will be with me for as long as this conquest lasts. A reminder of what and who I must return to.
To my little love, from kepus’
Rhaenyra sniffled, feeling tears on her cheeks, while reading her kepus letter over and over.
It was just after she arrived back in her chamber from dining with her aunt and cousins, as she always did these days that the girl Yana came to her room with a bucket of hot water for the princess to freshen up before sleep. Just one of the excuses they would use for whenever something needed to be given to Rhaenyra.
While the older girl, a woman really, became one of the future whore queen’s newest gaggles of maids – something Otto took great effort in arranging just days later after the betrothal was announced and before a crown even landed on his daughter’s head – the younger one became one of the servants who would do these sort of tasks for the princess.
Rhaenyra knew she ought to have maids of her own but she still grieved Annora’s loss and was too wary of trusting to many people, so for now she was content in having only Nayele as her only maid. And to have Amara and Lucile as unofficial ladies-in-waiting. Though she would make sure to change that soon, once she felt comfortable enough to have more people around her, once she was strong and smart enough to start actually politicking.
With a heavy sigh, worry and sadness filling her heart, Rhaenyra laid down in bed and slid the piece of scroll under her pillow to join the other trinkets from her kepus she kept hidden and safe there. Grandmother Alyssa’s dragon ring he gifted her in her eighth nameday, Queen Visenya's dragon claw ring he gave her years ago, both still too big for her fingers; a necklace that once belonged to Queen Rhaenys and the matching bracelet he bought for her and Baela representing the color of their eyes.
Uncle Daemon’s presents had always been the best, always her favorite ones, because unlike her father Rhaenyra’s kepus knew her and her tastes. If Rhaenyra had had the choice in any way before being born she would have chosen Daemon as her father, maybe then she would have never lost a mother or be forced to see him leave again and again. Perhaps then Rhaenyra would have always had a happy life without never knowing any pain.
Notes:
Not me throwing a little bit of Harry Potter in here for no other reason than my love for owls 🤭
Anyways ...
What's your thoughts?!?!? Leave kudos and comments to let me know if you liked it 🥹The Velaryons are a mess of a family and I blame them for Rhaenys being one too. Girl had great potential before Corlys came into the picture. And Jaehaerys fucked her over. My version of her will swing around between striving to be hated and doing something to be liked cause that was my interpretation/feelings for her when i read the book 🤷🏾♀️
I guess in many ways she is sort of still stuck in her teenage self when things were good in life and she cannot conciliate the actually shit life she currently lives in. She and Viserys are similar in that regard!!Do not worry people, despite Daemon and Laena interaction here, there will be no romance between them in the future. I have other plans for Laena w someone else entirely 🫣 Poor girl has a long healing process ahead of her though, and her family is as much help as Viserys is for Rhaenyra, that is less than zero 😑
I'll be flashing her character out more soon, especially when she gets to go back to KL, and I've big things planned for her. And for Laenor too, as per his little unnoticed escapade!The Stepstone war is looming ever closer. And Daemon will have a rough go of it like canon cause a crown and kingdom shouldn't always be earned easily! It may not seem like it atm but Saera also has certain plans of her own, there is more to her helping him cause girlfriend is Jaehaerys' daughter, we will get to that soon 😏
Not much of babe Rhae again but we will have plenty of her next chapter cause Vizzy clownery of a marriage to his green snake is happening soon🤢 And our princess will also get the satisfaction of witnessing more of Alicent's reputation sinking lower and lower 😏 Then some more secrets will be discovered. Maybe we will even get a surprise visit as comfort for the angst 🫣
Btw, Larissa Velaryon was one of Princess Rhaena's close friends and a cousin too, she married the Lord Tarth of that time and their daughter married Lord Estermont, so my OC Evina is her granddaughter.
Thank you all who has been commenting and leaving kudos, I truly appreciate every single one of them❣️Again, I'm sorry these last couple chapters are taking so long to update!!
Accompanying links for the fic:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/Characters' ages:
Daemon - 24
Rhaenyra - 8
Laena - 12
Laenor - 14
Rhaenys - 30
Corlys - 51
Daelius - 18I hope you have enjoyed it 🥰
See you in the next one!!
Kisses 😘
Chapter 28: Chapter Twenty-Seven: 106 AC Part XII - Blood in the water
Notes:
Heeelloooou readers 🥰
Finally a update!! Sorry it took a while, irl has been killing me 😓But here is Mr&Mrs Delulu wedding 🤡 I did not expand too much on it cause ugh 🤢 and there was more important stuff to write!!
I actually changed the order of some stuff that was supposed to happen in the second half of the chapter, put some additions that were not previously planned 😅 I'll talk more of it in the end notes if you're interested!Next chapter is likely going to be a behemoth 'cause there's a lot to happen so it might take a bit for me to finish it and update, sorry beforehand 😥
If it was political Rhaenyra & Arryns you guys wanted, here's a tiny little taste of it 😏
And Otto upping his snaky piece of sh* persona -_-High Valyrian = bold italic
English is not my native language so apologies for any grammar mistakes
Trigger warning: a little of a bloody situation on Alicent's pov be ware 🫣
And I'm taking plenty liberties with canon, so divergence and inaccuracies is the new canon 🤗Thank you all for the 1000+ kudos, comments & bookmarks, they're mean the world to me 🥹❣️
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
In the Great Sept atop Visenya’s Hill, King Viserys I tried to calmly wait for his bride instead of showing his impatience for the delay, while all the nobility in attendance chattered and whispered amongst themselves while waiting as well. The longer the king stood on the elevated platform, the easier it was to notice the dissatisfied frowns and looks upon the lords and ladies' faces, the harder it was to mute their displeased and scandalized words.
Many of the lords and ladies from the houses that were able to make the journey in time were unhappy by the king’s choice of new wife, less because it was a second son’s daughter and more for their lost opportunity to at least try to gain a crown for their daughters. If the king had such low standards then certainly any minor houses could have had a chance, if only the Hightower girl had not slinked into the king’s bed first. That was all the nobles could talk about
Many more lords who could make the journey with time to spare refused to even make the travel for that exact reason of bruised and slighted egos, others from longer distances with better morals refused to bear witness to a disrespectful matrimony but of course all sent acceptable excuses and their short insincere regards. Some even wrote more truthful letters to pay their genuine apologies only to the princess.
Some of the houses from the soon-to-be Queen’s birthplace made hasty travels from the Reach to the capital, all preening and satisfied with the king’s wise choice. The main house and its members were the Hightowers themselves, once more elevated above all other Reach houses including their liege lord, the lord of the house and his family were all honorably put in the front row close to where the king and his bride would say their vows.
Sounds from wheelhouses arriving outside the sept pulled people's attention from their talks, all heads and eyes turning to the closed doors to see who would finally arrive, since the Hightower bride was not the only one late.
A loud roar and thud a minute later answered their question of who had arrived.
Everyone stood up, eagerly waiting and looking at the doors to open so they could see the little princess enter the sept. They missed King Viserys’ furrowed brow of confusion as to why his daughter’s dragon was anywhere near the sept and then his sigh of exasperation when thinking Rhaenyra might have decided to fly there if only to aggravate his mood as she wont do these days.
When the doors opened, sounds of cheering came from outside and the king had his confirmation seeing his daughter with her back still turned in favor of petting her golden dragon. The late queen’s family, the princess’ family, as well as a small contingent of other Vale nobles were the ones to have arrived in the litters and awaited for her at the doors; the arrival dissipating peoples' assumption the Arryns of the Vale would not even attend the event at all.
Any thoughts of frustration and reprimands fled King Viserys’ mind when his daughter walked up to the doors and stepped inside, her clothing now entirely visible. He remembered that gown well, it was Aemma’s, it was the gown she commissioned and wore for King Jaehaerys procession to honor and mourn his late queen. Even with the alterations made to fit Rhaenyra’s smaller frame, Viserys would remember a dress wore by his dear Aemma even blinded.
The king was so stunned by the dress and how his daughter resembled her mother more than ever in that moment that he did not pay mind to the lengthy slash made on one side of the silk so it would open every step the princess took to show the riding leathers she wore underneath.
The king also did not notice the people reaction to the fact the princess was wearing all black for the ceremony nor did he notice the Valyrian braids she wore, Queen Visenya’s famous war braids but he did notice with slightly widened eyes the coronet Aemma was crowned with atop her daughter's head. King Viserys did not pay attention either to how the Arryn family and other Vale houses behind the princess wore silks of Arryn blue and mourning black. A clear statement if the nobles ever saw one.
Rhaenyra noticed though, all the eyes and the low whispers starting to ripple across the round hall the closer she got to her father, and she tilted her chin a bit higher, walked more confidently. The adrenaline from the short flight, and the weight of the crown aunt Amanda put on her head when she climbed down her dragon, enough to only heighten her determination further.
She stopped by the foot of the platform and looked up at her father, hoping he would see the fire in her eyes, the anger in the shade of her mother’s eyes, then gave a small curtsy and went to stay with her family instead of climbing the steps to stay by the king’s side. Rhaenyra sat down between her aunt and cousins, fixing her eyes straight ahead and not looking at anywhere nor anyone, not even when minutes later the bride finally arrived and everyone but her and her family stood up and turned to watch Alicent Hightower, in the arm of Otto Hightower, walk down the aisle to become the next queen.
A small grin graced her lips though at hearing the light booing sounds coming from outside before the doors were hastily closed again. Unbeknownst to the princess most of the nobles, the ladies in especial, felt quite underwhelmed over the queen-to-be wedding gown that was not even close to the pompous silks expected from such grand affair. Even the late Queen donned a more fancy and beautiful gown despite still been a child of ten and one when married, and as small as the princess.
As much as she wanted Rhaenyra could not ignore the whole cursed ceremony, so she eventually did look to where the king and his bride were standing before the High Septon started his bore and stupid speech. She scowled seeing the pristine white of the whore’s dress, as if that could silence and make everyone suddenly forget she was no maiden on her wedding day.
She did not care if people saw all the faces and eye rolls she gave throughout the horrendously dull ceremony, she had all the right to be just as much disrespectful as the man spitting on her mother’s ashes was. Rhaenyra wished she could do more than just that, especially to the grinning face of Otto Hightower, the man who no doubt was behind all this to begin with. She would one day, she will. It was with those violent thoughts she called upon Syrax again.
When the marriage ceremony was concluded, groom and bride finalizing their vows and been declared husband and wife in the eyes of Gods and men, people stood up and clapped as was expected of them though it was lackluster at best from most but the whore’s family. After the claps died down, Rhaenyra finally stood up stealing away people's attention from the smiling couple.
The princess walked to the platform, looking up again to her father who looked down at her with expectant eyes and smile.
“Congratulations, Your Grace.” She said formally and with a stern expression. “I hope this marriage brings you the happiness you have been searching for at last.”
Without sparing the Hightower whore a single look, Rhaenyra turned around and just as gracefully as she walked in, she walked out.
“Our many congratulations, Your Grace.” Lady Amanda said as the speaks person of the small but proud Vale contingent, then with a vexing grin added. “I hope your new marriage is as fruitful as your marriage to my sister.”
They could bear to attend the wedding ceremony if only to make a statement in any way they could, to remind people of the truths behind this farce, but none of them would stand while a girl no better than a wench was crowned queen by the man who killed their true Queen.
Otto Hightower fumed silently in anger for the ridiculous show of utter disrespect from these inconsequential people and looked over pointedly at the king, expecting him to do something, to put them in their place. But the king did nothing but stare dumbly to them depart, a look of despondency taking over his features instead of the joy he should be showing. Otto prayed this would soon change once his daughter gave the foolish king the son and heir he truly desire.
Rhaenyra sighed heavily once outside, relieved to put distance from the king and his whore and her gloating family. And was gladdened to see the commonfolk still gathered outside and start to cheer her name again, then cheer louder when Syrax once more landed on the sept’s walkway.
“You did great in there, darling.” Aunt Amanda rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, the doors being shut again allowing Rhaenyra to relax a little and lean into her aunt’s body. “Your mother would have been proud.”
“My mother should be alive.” She whispered feeling her throat constrict.
Amanda leaned down and kissed her niece’s forehead, sad and angered to see her in such a way. The same way her sister was forced to remain for most of her life.
“Go have a flight, darling. Clear your head and regain your strength.” Aunt Amanda said squeezing her shoulder. "You do not have to attend the feast, I'll deal with it."
Rhaenyra nodded with a grateful smile and quickly walked to Syrax, climbing her girl swiftly and whispering the command. Feeling the wind upon her face, the thrill of flying the skies, of owning the skies was all Rhaenyra needed to forget everything if only for a moment. To remember who she was and what she must fight for. To muster the strength for the fights ahead of her.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Alicent laid back on the big tub in her new chambers, the Queen’s chambers, and tried to relax for a moment and forget the disastrous fortnight she’s had since the day of her wedding.
She had always dreamed of her wedding day, had always imagined it being a perfect although small affair, but then she was betrothed to the King and her wedding would be a grand event with many lords and ladies and even the smallfolk gathering to witness her union. Despite the tight schedule her father made sure the Crown spared no expanse to make her wedding the festivity of the year, King Viserys giving free reign to both her and his Hand to organize things as they saw fit.
Alicent did not even know where to begin organizing something so grand, so pompously fancy, so her father’s help was the key that made things turn out so great. Not perfect, not as she once dreamed it would be.
The lords and ladies who even deemed to make the travel for the king’s wedding paid her little attention or respect, looking her up and down judgmentally or just ignoring her altogether. The courtiers in the castle only got nastier the closer the wedding day got, gossiping loudly whenever she was within earshot, spreading the wildest of tales that did not even made sense to be true but everyone seemed eager to believe. And Rhaenyra, that twice cursed princess, made a point to offend her at any given opportunity.
She was the one feeding the people’s wild imaginations, putting them to gossip in such ways, along with that horrid Arryn woman. Alicent was sure of it but she could do nothing, at least not before she held the title of Queen and gained all the power that came along with it, especially once she gave the king a son.
So she did her best to mute it all out, to ignore it all, only focusing in whatever she was able to help with the wedding planning. It was impossible to do that on her wedding day though.
How could she when the small folk, those dirtied low born, booed her all the way to the sept? They called her awful things, being so unjust and unfair, and it was only her father’s tight hold on her hand that stopped her from tearing her cuticles to the bone. And inside the sept the lords and ladies and courtiers showed no great excitement as they ought to have done, they were witnessing her wed the King after all, she was about to become their Queen and yet she could see the coldness of judgment and disdain from their eyes.
Then the little brat and those Vale people made a spectacle, trying to ridicule her just before she was crowned. There was no cheer and barely no clapping once the High Septon declared her Queen and the King put a newly commissioned crown atop her head. Not even her father and her family joy helped brighten the moment in anyway.
The worst of all was how King Viserys, her husband, decided last minute to forego the presentation on the sept’s steps for his subjects. Instead he only made a quick speech to the nobles present, thanking their attendance and hoping to see them for the grand feast. Instead of proudly presenting her, his wife and Queen, mother of his future son, as all kings before him have done for their queens, he simply ushered her to get into the royal wheelhouse quickly.
At least on the way back there was no more booing, people would not dare do such for their king, but Alicent could still hear the loud whispers coming from outside during the ride back to the castle.
The wedding feast was a grim affair, with almost everyone being in a gloomy mood, from the king to the lowest of courtiers. Her father preened the whole night nonetheless, walking her around to talk with her subjects since the king refused to stand from his seat, trying to make them see what a beautiful and fitting bride, wife and Queen she was. They were met with indifference by most people, at best. At worst, Alicent would rather erase their veiled insults and grim expressions entirely.
Meanwhile many had warmly accepted Lady Amanda Arryn greetings and idle conversation, introducing themselves and their families eagerly to her almost as if she was the queen, not Alicent.
Yet the following days only worsened instead of getting any better.
She could finally move from her old chambers in the Tower of the Hand where her father and brother were always watching her every move, and into the royal apartments in Maegor’s Holdfast, moving into the Queen’s chambers which was gladly bare from all that once belonged to Aemma Arryn.
However, the moment was not the giddy experience she had hoped for, not when it became so glaring while moving her things how much she lacked in possessions, fancy high quality clothes and jewelry and whatnot, in comparison to other ladies. In comparison to the late queen, in comparison to the princess.
That was just another thing for the courtiers to gossip about, making her almost barren new rooms into something bigger than it needed to be.
But that would soon change for the king, her husband, had already gifted her many things as wedding gifts. She now possessed power over parts of the Crown’s coffers to utilize for her duties as Queen as well as for her personal interests; already seamstress from all over the realm were called to work over the Queen’s new wardrobe. And soon Alicent would be able to choose whichever jewelry from past Targaryen queens and princesses she wanted to pick, she was only waiting on the king’s word so she could finally do it. Everyone knew their jewelry and trinkets were made from the best materials, the highest quality and extremely expensive.
Thankfully she would not need to worry about accidentally picking something from Aemma Arryn since her bratty daughter had already taken everything for herself.
Those frivolous thoughts she never before allowed herself to have were quickly out of her mind when her duties as queen were dropped into her hands. Alicent, as a second son’s daughter of a vassal house, had of course learned how to maintain and keep a household just like most highborn ladies but what she learned had been intended for a passable marriage match at best. She learned things meant for a small castle, a small household, not even one that had vassals or bannermen of its own.
Now she was handed the duties for a royal castle, a royal household, an immense place with too many nobles living in it and with many different facets to every corner of the Red Keep. A castle that ruled over a capital city, one of the most populous cities of the realm, city with subjects she as Queen was expected to look after as well. And Alicent was at a loss.
She had already had difficulties when her father appeared with a dozen maids to service her before she was married and all the work needed to prepare the wedding ceremony and grand feast. For a fortnight now Alicent was scrambling around trying to make sense of all she needed to do, trying to learn as quickly as possible how to best work to achieve the perfection expected of her, the Queen. And of course people in the keep had noticed it and that only added more to their gossip.
Her sister, who father ordered to come live in the keep and be a part of Alicent’s household, was of no help since she liked to dig jabs at Alicent’s struggles just as the rest. And her aunt, Lord Hobert's wife, tried to help by only criticizing her, deeming and belittling her as if that would help make her better but it only made Alicent tear through her cuticles skin. Thankfully both her uncle and aunt finally left back to Oldtown.
Princess Rhaenyra and her Arryn relatives gloated at every little slip and error she made, the spoiled princess made a point to show Alicent the satisfied glint in her abnormal violet eyes.
Yet, Alicent swallow it all up with grace and dignity as the good Queen she ought to be, bottling it all away and chalking it all up to a tricky beginning. Because that was all this was, just the beginning of her tenure in the position. Once she established her rule, her power, once she gave her husband his so desired male heir then all would be well and start to be a great life for her. People just needed to get used to her as Queen and not a mere lady anymore, that’s all, she repeated it as a mantra and knelt daily at the keep’s sept to apologize for any dark thoughts.
All great rulers went through difficult times and walked out on the other side victorious, beloved and remembered by all the realm, it would not be any different for her.
Alicent was pulled from her musings when she felt a viscous and warm sensation between her thighs, frowning she opened her eyes and looked down just to find blood, so much blood, tricking out from her thighs into the water. Someone was gasping and then screaming while she watched the water turn dark red with blood and more blood pouring out of her. A door slamming and people yelling was the last thing she remembers before darkness took over.
--
It was an especially calm night Viserys was having, quiet and peaceful after so many days of distress, finally he could just sit down by his Valyria model and let go of all worries for a few hours.
He focused only on the model, tinkering away with the newest acquisitions, fixing some of the older ones. No thoughts of his impudent daughter and her Arryn relatives, who he had no choice but accept they travel back to the Vale if only so he could have some peace in court and no more unpleasant tension between his daughter and new wife. No thoughts of his new wife disastrous work as queen, something that hopefully Rhaenyra’s and Lady Amanda’s absence would help the girl finally improve without them around breathing down her neck.
No thoughts of all the whispers and looks thrown their way, as if more than half the court did not have dalliances between themselves including cheating their spouses under the same roof. No thoughts of the insolence of his brother and the Velaryons, a situation that had utterly tied his hands and made the council sessions an everyday fight with Daemon’s name been said way too many times for his liking.
It was all peaceful at long last… Until it was not a peaceful night any more. Until his Lord Commander entered to give him the news that the queen was bleeding out, miscarrying, in the bath and doing quite a spectacle while at it.
Viserys sighed in exasperation, waving the kingsguard away ordering him to only disturb him again once the maester had everything in order, when Alicent was calmed down some way. This would be sure to draw more attention they did not need at all but maybe it would make people forget Daemon and his war for a moment.
All the trouble he went through choosing the girl instead of what the rest of his council, his family, his court and people expected of him, Viserys thought slumping in his chair and sighing tiredly. All that trouble because of the precious life, a possible male life, that took root in her womb. Just so now she would lose it before her belly even properly began to swell. Like Aemma so many times before.
Was he cursed? Viserys wondered looking up at the ceiling, hoping some god could give him an answer. Did he do something to evoke the Gods anger so they would only ever allow him one child, a daughter, while striking all other children he should have by now?
What a fool he was to hastily marry Alicent instead of waiting to be sure she would birth him a healthy child, the son he longed for so much.
Viserys should have only betrothed the girl and then absconded with her to Dragonstone where there would be no prying eyes and ears, where he could easily excuse annulling the betrothal if anything happened, where she could freely carry and birth a child before the marriage. Or like it happened now, lose it and save him all the headache in the first place. If he hadn’t blinded himself as soon as he heard those desired words of a pregnancy as he always did, then he could have thought more clearly, he could have followed his councilmen advices.
However, Viserys always got too carried away when presented with the possibility of his prophetic dream finally becoming true to allow his mind to rationalize nor think clearly.
If he had thought things through first, then he could have reached some agreement with Lord Corlys to keep him leashed at least for a while longer, then the Sea Snake would not be out there waging a unsanctioned and unlawful war alongside the Rogue Prince, his insolent brother. A war that had barely started and was already causing a bad effect throughout the port cities of the kingdom, just as Otto predicted it would.
If he hadn’t gotten ahead of himself then his relationship with his daughter would not be in shambles right now, her anger leading her to be easily influenced by his brash good-sister. Something he dearly hoped a few days in the desolate and wild mountains of the Vale would make her see how good a life she had here in the capital, with him giving her everything a girl could dream of.
If he had been a rational man, a rational king, instead of an emotional fool then he would not been hearing the word kinslayer and other awful things whispered behind his back by his own court.
A knock on the door pulled him away from his despairing thoughts and a second later his Lord Commander was opening the door and announcing Maester Barry.
“Your Grace.” The maester greeted with a bow.
“Maester Barry.” Viserys said and then winced when seeing a flash of blood on one of the maester’s robe sleeve. “Were you the one that attended to Alicent? Where is Grandmaester Mellos?”
“The Grandmaester took ill earlier tonight. The food did not sit well with him.” Maester Barry explained. “As the only other maester in the keep after him, one of the queen’s maids was wise enough to call for me straight away.”
“Why in the Seven Hells is taken the citadel so long to send more maesters?” Viserys gritted with exasperation, it’s been weeks, a moon, since the Grandmaester called for new maesters to replace all the apprentices and acolytes and not a single one arrived.
“I honestly cannot understand it either, my King.” The maester answered with a furrowed brow.
“How is Alicent? The babe?” He asked then, a smidge of hope still, there was no point hiding it anymore anyways.
“I was able to give the queen some medicine to calm down and be able to sleep for a much needed rest.’ Maester Barry. “I’m afraid though that her distress made it impossible for me to properly examine her to evaluate the situation but…”
“But?” Viserys raised his eyebrows, sitting straighter.
“With all honesty, Your Grace, though I could not examine your wife’s body at this moment… From what I observed, from the blood in the water, I’m not entirely convinced the queen was with child at all.”
“What?” Viserys asked stunned, lilac eyes going wide in shock and confusion hearing those words.
“The blood seemed to me more like normal moonblood than a miscarriage, especially if the queen was as far along as one of her maids commented that the Grandmaester said she was.” Maester Barry explained. “There was a lot of blood, more than usual true, but sometimes it happens when a woman spends too long to get her monthly courses.”
“Wh… How can this be? Mellos examined her.” Viserys stood up, face heating up from anger. “He confirmed her with child!”
“I do not understand it either, my King, how such seasoned maester such as Mellos could mistake this…” The maester said, too honestly, before stopping himself. “And I’m not saying the Grandmaester committed a mistake, without a proper examination, I cannot confirm my suspicions.”
“But you do believe he mistaken?” Viserys pressed. “You believe Alicent was simply late but never with child?”
“From what I saw, yes, Your Grace that is my belief.”
Viserys rubbed both hands over his face, wanting to claw at his skin or maybe bludgeon someone to death. How much of a bigger fool could he have been?
“This is a disaster.” Viserys whispered sighing heavily, then looked at the maester, Rhaenyra’s favourite from what he heard. “When Alicent wakes again, make sure to examine her thoroughly and bring your findings to me.” He commanded. “If Mellos truly committed such gave mistake… On top of everything else from your order these past weeks. I’ll be having some words with him and the Citadel.”
Maester Barry simply bowed, he had no words to explain whatever in the Gods names was going on with the order of Maesters for all this to be even happening to begin with, then swiftly left to stand vigil by the queen’s door to examine her as soon as the medicine wore off.
“Fuck!” Viserys exclaimed before picking up one of the chairs and throwing it on the nearest wall.
It was not often he allowed the fire in his blood to rise, not often he allowed anger to take over his senses, for that fire had transformed into an almost dead flame ever since Viserys felt his connexion with Balerion be severed in a blink. Sometimes though, sometimes he really wished he was more like Daemon, he wished he still had a dragon, he wished he could just pick Blackfyre and hack people to pieces.
But that was not who Viserys was, that was not the heir and king his grandfather wanted him to be. At least he did not think so, old Jaehaerys never really gave any points or counsel to him before passing, but surely a peaceful stable realm was what the Wise King would have wanted the kingdom to remain to be after his dead. That is what Viserys has spent these years striving for.
Yet, here he was without a son, without his dear Aemma. With only a daughter for an heir, something sure to cause only more trouble along the years, more headaches to his reign. And with a kingdom in the verge of war with the Free Cities and an economic collapse thanks to his rebellious brother.
What a mess. What an utter disaster. Viserys did not need any more proof that he was right in thinking the Gods, whatever ones existed, have cursed him.
--
“Make sure this is safely sent to the Eyrie.” Lady Amanda was saying to her trusted maid, giving her a scroll, when Rhaenyra all but busted into the room. She nodded to the maid before setting her blue eyes in her niece almost jumping in place. “What is it, darling?”
“Didn’t you heard yet, aunt?” Rhaenyra asked smiling from ear to ear and walked to her aunt.
“I haven’t had the time to even get out of my chambers this morn.” She replied, bringing a hand up to her niece’s dishevelled silver-gold hair, likely from running all the way there. “Organizing Jeyne’s nameday celebration from distance is proven quite complicated.”
“I imagined, that is why I came as soon as I heard.” Rhaenyra looked up, her smile morphing into a mischievous grin. “The queen miscarried her bastard last night.”
Amanda eyes widened a little, not really confident to have her wishes to the king and his whore granted. Maybe the Gods have not forsaken them just yet.
“That is wonderful news.” She said smiling too, the darkest part of her heart satisfied with the Hightower girl suffering.
“It is all the people are talking about.” Rhaenyra swayed on her feet, too much adrenaline for her little body to contain and be still. “I slept on uncle’s room so I did not heard but apparently Alicent made a scene while bleeding the bastard in the bath tub.”
“Why were you sleeping in Prince Daemon’s room, darling?” Amanda asked with a frown.
“I feel safer there.” She replied with a shrug, then hugged her aunt, little arms encircling her waist. “Kepus promised he would get rid of the whore’s bastard and he did. He never breaks his promises to me.”
“He did?” Amanda felt a little alarmed at that considering the prince was supposed to be waging war miles away. “When did you talk with Prince Daemon?”
“When he last visited the capital.” Rhaenyra answered pulling away and looking bashful at her aunt. “Uncle Daemon sneaked into the keep to visit me and when I told him about father’s choice of bride, he promised to ensure Alicent miscarried if she was with child and also make sure she would have difficulties getting with child again. That way it will give me more time, it's what he said.”
“Hm.” Amanda thought that new information over, trying to focus more on the usefulness of the prince’s work than about him sneaking into Rhaenyra’s room unnoticed. “Well, yes the longer that girl does not birth a son, the longer we have to ensure you are well established as heir in the eyes of the realm.” She agreed in the end deciding to trust her sister’s opinion of the man. “Maybe I have misjudged Prince Daemon if he is truly accepting of you as heir instead of him.”
“Of course he is.” Rhaenyra said defensively. “Why would you think bad of my uncle?”
“Prince Daemon is not very liked in the Vale, Rhaenyra.” She answered, then sat down on the sofa and patted the space next to her for Rhaenyra to sit, which she did despite the frown marring her pretty face. “There is bad blood not just between Lady Royce and her husband. I’m afraid your uncle’s actions caused our people to be wary of him and dislike him.”
“It is not his fault if he was forced to marry that horrid woman.” Rhaenyra retorted crossing her arms, petulant as ever and making Amanda smile, she looked so much like her spoiled little Aemma when being like this.
“I will concede that Lady Rhea is not that better liked either but she is still a Vale woman.” Amanda tried to explain the best way for Rhaenyra to understand instead of feeling offense. “Prince Daemon’s insults might have been aimed at her but it hurt all of our people, Rhaenyra, the same way I’m sure her insults against him is what made you dislike her without even having met... Words can sometimes be as powerful as actions.”
Rhaenyra pondered over her aunt’s words, thinking beyond the simple views of the situation and in truth she disliked the Royce woman just from what her uncle told of her and what they knew she thought of him. She did not even know what Rhea Royce looked like and still hated her all the same.
“I understand, aunt.” She said nodding at her aunt. “But taking Baela away only makes me hate her more.”
“That is understandable, darling.” Amanda pulled Rhaenyra into her side. “Hopefully, I can better make her see reason in person than with a letter.”
“What if father changes his mind and doesn’t let me go?” Rhaenyra questioned feeling a little dejected and already expecting her father to do just that. “He just lost another babe, maybe that will make him want to have me around until the next one.”
“What he wants is of no consequence, darling. Only what is best for you.” She said, if the king acted as he did with Aemma, this loss would only make him focus more in trying again and again until he killed another wife.
“If that was so, aunt… But he is the king.”
“He is a father with a guilty conscience, Rhaenyra, which is what rules him now. We ought to make the best of it while we can.”
Rhaenyra nodded still not entirely convinced, even if her aunt’s advice to start accepting his invitations to eat together and then try again to reach the subject of going to the Vale had worked, Rhaenyra’s faith in her father was irrevocably broken. She would only believe he would not change his mind again once she was atop Syrax flying to her mother’s homeland.
“Did he call you to break your fast together this morn?” Amanda asked.
“No, my maid overheard he has been with his wife and the maesters since early.” She answered with a scowl at having to call the Hightower whore the tittle that not too long ago belonged to her mother. “Should I seek him out, give him my condolences?”
“That is a good idea, yes.” Amanda agreed proud to see her niece already smart and quick on her thinking. “He will be even more susceptible to you right now, if you show him the attention and love he needs from his only child, it will be another step in ensuring he will be on your side only.”
Rhaenyra nodded but pouted all the same, it had been a fight to get through meals with her father, listening to his inane talks and to pretend to pay attention, to be interested. Pretend she forgave and forgot. Pretend she did not grow to hate him in just a span of a few moons instead of loving and admiring him as she used to, as a daughter should.
But aunt Amanda was right that she needed to gain the king’s favour again, to endear him to her once again and not Alicent, to do it now while his fancy with the whore was still fresh and weak. Before she birthed him a son. Though if Uncle Daemon kept his promise, as he always did, that would not happen anytime soon and if it did… Then maybe it was time for Rhaenyra to accept Larys proposal.
Ordering him to kill any possible male offspring of the king and the Hightower whore would be a sure way to prove his loyalty to her.
--
Otto Hightower bristled in anger while walking from the Tower of the Hand to Maegor’s Holdfast. He had better things to do than to be chasing after Alicent to reprimand her stupid ways, the girl should already be well aware of her duty and not needing a reminder every damn day.
Arriving at the Queen’s chambers the kingsguard posted at the doors, Ser Rickard Thorne, opened the doors of the antechamber for him without prompt or asking his daughter permission. Entering the spacious room Otto gritted his teeth seeing the place still as barren as when Alicent moved in weeks ago despite his many lectures she ought to turn the place into the worthy apartments of a Queen.
Perhaps he should not have allowed his late wife to turn her into this much of strict and pious girl. That would not do being Queen to a Targaryen known for his lavish tastes.
His other children were making Alicent company, something else that made he want to shake the girl, she ought to be out and about the keep enchanting the courtiers and visitors passing by. Since she could not properly lead the royal household according yet the least she could do is play beautiful hostess and Queen.
“Good morrow, father.” Lymond was the first one to greet him, closing the book he was reading and his youngest Brydon who was sat by his feet playing with wooden toys on the floor quickly did the same.
“You two go get changed and then go find your brother in the training yard.” He ordered them. “You are following too behind in your training.”
“Yes, father.” The two said and unison, standing up and leaving the room.
Otto focused his eyes on his daughters, Alicent had stopped her sewing and was looking at him but Astrid kept on as if he had not entered the room at all. Lymond’s twin was proving to be quite the insolent girl and Otto regretted giving in to his good-sister’s pleas to let the girl stay in Oldtown when he first moved to the capital, clearly Lynesse did a poor job of raising his daughter right.
“How many times do I have to tell you two need to be out there?” He questioned, voice stern and looking down at them with disapproval.
“We were walking in the gardens earlier, father.” Alicent answered, face going pale.
“Sister could not handle people’s looks and tittering gossip though so we had to come back inside.” Astrid said finally lifting up her head, a small grin on her lips that made her resemble her aunt too much for Otto’s comfort.
Impertinent as she was at least the girl had a spark to her, something Alicent was sorely lacking, something that would fit much better his plans. Maybe he should have choose Astrid instead of Alicent, the brazenness the girl no doubt learned from Lynesse might have been exactly what they needed to truly rule King Viserys and put Princess Rhaenyra in her place.
“That is… That is not what…” Alicent tried to defend herself, looking between them with wide eyes.
“Spare me your excuses, Alicent.” Otto held up a hand and then sighed. “You only make things worse by hiding away at the slightest trouble. How exactly do you think you can make them respect you like this?”
“They will… They just need more time to adjust, father.” She said. “It has not even been two moons yet.”
“What they need is a firm hand to make them bow as they must.” He retorted scowling at her naivety. “They prance around wagging their tongues about you, calling you names and worse, comparing you to that Aemma Arryn.” A few gossip about a dalliance before marriage he could deal with but whispers about Alicent being another Aemma, unfit to bear the king sons was unacceptable. “We cannot have this, Alicent. You must assert your power.”
“Maybe she is like the late queen, maybe she did not inherit mother’s fertility.” His younger daughter commented with a mean tone, smirking again up at him before adding “Maybe you should not have thrown her in the king’s bed, father, that might have warranted the Seven’s punishment.”
“The Seven’s punishment will be the least of your problems if you do not fix your behaviour.” Otto looked at the girl with anger. “You are not anymore behind Lynesse’s skirts, girl. You are under my rule so you better start showing proper manners and respect.”
“If you do not like my behaviour, then simply send me back to Oldtown, father.” Astrid retorted back instead of bowing her head and accepting her scold as Alicent knew how to. “You should have let me go back with aunt and uncle, I’m not needed here. Alicent is doing a splendid job all on her own, you made sure of it, father.”
“You are staying here.” He said composing his temper, not falling on her trap, this was the same tactics Lynesse likes to use to get under people’s skin. “And you are to walk showing yourself just as much as your sister, once she gives the king a son your nephew will need good allies on his side, something achieved easily through marriage. I am sure Lynesse taught you well about what is expected of you for the good of this family.”
That worked wonders to shut the insolent girl, as it always did whenever he brought up the subject of her marriage. Otto did not even want to imagine whatever gibberish Lynesse had been filling his daughter’s head with for her to clearly be against marriage instead of knowing her duties.
“Of course, first we need a son to be the king’s heir.” He returned his focus to Alicent. “For that, Alicent, you know exactly what needs to be done so why are you not visiting the king?”
“I am, father.” She answered looking down, a shyness that was not becoming the mother of the future king. “When King Viserys asks for me.”
“Then you must be doing something wrong, Alicent. It is been a moon since that pitiful spectacle of yours and the king has called for you only two times since.” Otto admonished, no matter if at the time the girl thought she was losing a babe instead of only bleeding her courses, she should have handle things with more dignity. “Fix that before the king looks elsewhere to sate his desires. We have enough problems with Princess Rhaenyra, we do not need a bastard running around.”
“Yes, father. I will do better.” Alicent said dutifully and it did not go unnoticed for him how her sister rolled her eyes, he would deal with that other one soon enough.
“You better. We must take advantage of the princess absence to fully bring King Viserys to our side.”
“Will he truly allow her to go to the Vale this soon then?’ Alicent looked up, a spark of hope in her dark eyes.
“Thankfully yes. The king gave in to his daughter’s whims again but this time it can benefit us.” Otto answered and squinted his eyes at how Alicent demeanour changed with the news. “You would have known that if you did a better job as a wife the king can confide in.” He rebuked making her wilt again. “And once she is back you also must do a better job in befriending the princess, until you give the king his heir we cannot risk alienating King Viserys by not catering to his dear daughter.”
“Princess Rhaenyra hates me, father.” Alicent said with a slight scowl. “I have tried to reach her but she…”
“Try harder. Lady Amanda’s presence in her life is only worsening her ways, as a 9 year old she is too easily influenced.” He sneered at the mere mention of that irritating Arryn woman. “Princess Rhaenyra needs a firmer hand and better parenting, as her stepmother it is your duty to guide her into the right path.”
“Yes father.” She replied curtly though he could see her struggle to agree with that.
“You two are naive to think you can control the princess after you replaced her mother not even a year after the queen’s death.” Astrid piped in again. “I would certainly give all the Seven hells if a woman had slithered in your bed before mother’s bones were even cold, father.”
“Use that smart tongue of yours to better uses, daughter before I decide you better suited to the Silent Sisters.”
“You wouldn’t…” She looked at him with indignation but fear too.
“Test me a little more, Astrid, and I’ll show you how much I would do to curb this insolence of yours.”
Again she quieted, shoulders sagging and looking down, demeanour subduing greatly at last. Good, it is time she remembers she ought to fear him, her father, the one who commands her until she marries.
“King Viserys has the afternoon free today and has absconded into his solar.” Otto said at Alicent. “Get changed into more fitting clothes and go do your duty, Alicent. I will not be repeating myself any longer.”
Otto turned on his heels and left the room before either of the girls could increase his headache more than they already did. What did he do wrong to end up with these two as daughters? One too little and other too much? His mistake was probably leaving them in the hands of women for the first years of their lives, Otto was sure, first his wife with Alicent and then his good-sister with Astrid, essential years for the proper development of a child into decent adults. He should had focus more on them than in his boys, made sure they would be the women he needed to get the job done for the future of their House and the realm.
It was not late yet, Otto would make sure they were up to the task, if words did not truly work this last time then he shall try a different approach. Whatever it took for them to be useful.
Especially in the precarious situation they found themselves in. Alicent first viewed as some harlot and now as barren, hiding away instead of imposing her rule as Queen and forcing the wagging tongues to stop.
If making known Alicent had just bled her courses and not miscarried would do any good, Otto would spread the information himself, but it was bad enough King Viserys beyond angered by Mellos mistake, if the courtiers thought Alicent simple minded not to know the difference between her late courses and pregnancy it would only further damage her imagine. At least the current assumption could be proven wrong as soon as her belly actually swells with the king’s son.
Otto silently cursed Mellos and his stupidity, if he hadn’t gorged himself too much with food that night then that Maester Barry, the princess’ little creature, would not have been the one to tend to Alicent and babble to the king about Alicent not even being pregnant in the first place. It would have been much more beneficial if King Viserys thought he lost a babe, that would have made him desperate to try again quickly instead of distancing himself from his new young wife.
His daughter better fix this mess and get with child soon before Princess Rhaenyra sank her childish claws deeper into the king. The damned girl had already convinced the king to strip Mellos of his position of Grandmaester by invoking the dead queen’s memory, insinuating the maesters might have done graver errors than a mistaken pregnancy. She skirted too close to the truth for Otto’s liking, put the seed in Viserys head successfully enough he even personally wrote and sent a letter to the Citadel.
The response Otto got from that missive and all these slips in the plans was enough to give him sleepless nights since. Matters only made worse the more reports they received about the Rogue Prince and Velaryons unsanctioned war in the Stepstones. Uncle and niece were doing their most to age Otto five years every few weeks; if only he could do away with those two.
However, neither princess nor prince could be taken out of the picture until Alicent gave the king at least one male heir to satisfy his desire.
With any luck Prince Daemon would spare them all the trouble and get himself killed in those damned islands; an arrow to the neck like the Myrish killed his uncle years ago or any other fatal part would do. But unlike his uncle, the prince rarely ever left his red beast’s side which made his death a near impossible thing.
Not really impossible though, Otto thought with a grin, remembering Rhaenys Targaryen and her dragon were fell out of the sky easily enough by the Dornish and their scorpions. Perhaps Otto could get his contact with the Triarchy to provide them with the idea and if needed he would be sure to provide them with the means to accomplish that goal.
Yes, that ought to be his next course of action. It had been too long since he last had a visit from Mysaria.
The sooner the Rogue Prince was dead the better. That would certainly make it easier to get rid of Princess Rhaenyra as well. It would make Otto’s life and everyone else’s lives much better. The realm would be a better and safer place without that demon in it.
Why did the Seven even allowed the Targaryens to leave before they struck down the sinful heathen Valyria? More importantly why allow their dragons to keep on thriving? Of course Otto knew that they as followers of the one true belief, ought to go through trials some times to prove their faithfulness and fear and devotion to the Seven but couldn’t they have anticipated the Targaryens would be too difficult a trial to defeat?
Decades passed and they still struggled to undone what Aegon the Conqueror started by bringing down Westeros under Targaryen rule. At least now they were much closer in their goals, the dragonlord’s bloodline was at its last thread, a Hightower was made Queen once more and this time married to a Targaryen they could puppeteer at will, and soon they would have a boy with true Andal blood to sit the Throne and usher Westeros in the right path.
And all due Otto’s hard work. He would be exalted in the annals of history. Powerful than any other man once he was ruling beside his kingly grandson. If he had to kill a few inconsequential people to ensure that future for him, then Otto would.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
It was with wicked satisfaction Rhaenyra saw the Hightower whore blanch and step back when the dragonkeepers brought Syrax out from the caves, her girl was simply excitedly roaring and walking fast paced towards her, but Alicent uncultured andal that she was did not know that. Rhaenyra did not even know why her father insisted in bringing his whore along with them, or why he even saw the necessity to make the trek to the dragonpit when he hadn’t for years.
“Oh look at this, my dear, your dragon has been truly growing marvellously.” King Viserys said watching Syrax with awe and even a hint of proudness.
“It is the freedom to fly and hunt whenever she desires, just as kepus taught me dragons need.” Rhaenyra replied with a proud tilt to her chin as well, the warm huff of air from Syrax stopping behind her made her start to get giddy for their fly too, so she turned to pet her head not seeing the slight scowl that appeared on the queen’s face at those words. “Hello, my girl, ready for the long journey ahead?”
“Long journey indeed.” Her father commented, lips frowning, then turned his attention to the dragonkeeper closest to them. “Is my daughter’s dragon really up to fly all the way to the Vale with her on its back?”
Rhaenyra had to bit her tongue not to snap at her father clearly wishing to change his mind last second. Thankfully, the elder keeper repeated what he already told the king a dozen times in the last fortnight.
“Syrax has already proven herself when traveled to the Riverlands and the Vale with no guide, only instincts, a good trait for a dragon to have.” Dragonkeeper Handam, she believes it’s his name, said. “It will be a strain to do it with a rider this time but as long as the princess stops for rest often, they both shall do fine, Your Grace.”
“Your heard him, Rhaenyra, no staying up in the air too long.” Viserys looked at her with a stern expression, something that would have gladdened her before to see him worried for her but now it only grated in her mind. “Give your dragon the due rest to avoid any incidents just as we planned, understand?”
“I know, father.” She replied dully, fighting not to roll her eyes.
“That’s it, my dear.” Viserys smiled down as his girl, proud how intelligent she was proven to be more and more, and back to have less of a rebellious streak. “All ravens must have reached the castles that shall receive you giving the lords plenty of time to prepare.” He continued, happy about this opportunity to pacify discontented lords by choosing their keeps for his heir to visit even if just for a night or two. “Let us make sure Lord Beesbury’s idea is a complete success.”
“I will, father.” Rhaenyra said with determination in making this small tour more than a success, then she added if only to strike his ego and make him even more soft towards her. “Hopefully we can soon do a true royal progress together, father.”
“I would have loved to go with you this time in all honesty, my dear.” He reaching out to caress her shoulder. “If the Stepstones was not being a headache and a half.”
Rhaenyra bit her tongue again not to snap at him for taking for granted the service her uncle Daemon was doing in the name of the crown, to keep the king’s luxurious court and kingdom safe while her uncle was the one risking his life. It was never a good idea to bring kepus’ name in her father’s presence these days, more than usual.
“When things are better than.” She said with a forced smile, then forced herself to give him a hug, as brief as possible. “Farewell, father.”
“Be safe out there, my darling girl, and remember to always write to me.” Viserys held on to his girl a bit tighter, already regretting this decision but knowing it was a necessity, for her own good and his too.
“Stepdaughter.” Alicent said, trying not to tremble too much when getting closer to where the princess dragon was looming dangerously behind her, her hand instinctively grasping her husband’s arm. “I wish you a good travel.”
“Thank you, Alicent.” Rhaenyra forced herself to say nicely, avoiding antagonizing the whore by calling her lady or whore as she used to.
“Here. I commissioned this gift for your cousin, Lady Baela.” Alicent handed out a small pouch to the princess, an idea from her sister.
“There was no need.” Rhaenyra said trying not to scowl and picking up the gift with disgust, she would throw it out at the first opportunity. “But thank you.”
“A very kind thought, dear.” Viserys smiled petting his wife’s hand on his arm, gladdened to see his daughter and wife’s relationship bettering in the last couple weeks. “My own gifts to my niece and Lady Jeyne will not take long to arrive in the Vale either.”
“Syrax is getting restless, I better be going.” She said now smiling genuinely at her girl’s slight nudge to her back. “I will see you in a few moons, father. Take care.”
‘Hopefully your whore will do me the favor to die before then.’ Rhaenyra thought with vitriol, her feelings making Syrax let out a low growl. Wickedly she smiled seeing how Alicent was ready to faint at that and was so very tempted to command her girl to set both king and queen on fire. Alas, Rhaenyra could not do that, at least for now.
Without sparing them another look, Rhaenyra quickly chained herself to the saddle and then commanded Syrax to take to the skies, her girl swiftly pushing off the ground and ascending towards the opened roof. Dragonrider and dragon sharing mutual excitement for all the expanses of sky they would be flying for many days, for the freedom ahead of them and the first adventure they would get to share together.
--
Rhaenyra glided through the air contently and with amethyst eyes wide in wonder watching the ground below, she had never before travelled this way and although there was not much to see along the Rosby Road yet it was still new territory to her all the same.
She ought to do something really nice for Lord Beesbury when she returns from this unofficial tour. As soon as her father finally gave in and allowed her to accompany aunt Amanda in her travel back to the Vale moons ahead of her cousin’s nameday, since there was just so much she could organize from miles away, Rhaenyra and her aunt searched Lord Beesbury to work on the budget for the travel that would now include the princess.
He was the one to suggest to take this opportunity and make a tour out of it, although unofficial it would be a good chance for her to visit a few more castles on their way so the lords and people could have a chance to meet the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra was not ashamed for squealing in the old lord’s solar and hugging him tightly; neither she nor her aunt had thought of that in their hurry to just get out of Kings Landing.
Of course the Lord Hand had plenty to say about it, not so sneaky to hide his displeasure at least to her eyes, but in the end he could not really stand against the king and all the council. Rhaenyra was sure he eventually saw this as an opportunity to ingratiate himself, his whore of a daughter, his family and lickspittles deeper into court and gain back the king’s favour but she was not worried about it.
This was beyond a great opportunity for her to start really establishing herself as heir, meeting her future subjects and showing to them she was a right fit for the role despite her sex. Her aunt had already thought about her doing a royal progress but she thought best for them to do it in a year or two so the people might see her a little less as a child. It would not hurt though to test the waters now.
To Rhaenyra’s displeasure the Lord Hand was very insistent that the king should emphasize in the letters that would be sent to the castles she would stop at that this was not a royal progress as not to further offend the houses but that the king would do one soon. She was sure the Hand would want to do that if his daughter spawns a boy.
At least his suggestion was useful to Rhaenyra for once and so she had the idea to pen her own letters to be sent directly to the Lords Paramount to explain the same thing, this way she would be the one pacifying them not her father or Hand, for them to spread word of it and that there would be a royal progress of the whole realm by the end of the year at most.
If she omitted she planned to be only her doing that tour no one needed to know yet. Rhaenyra had spent an entire night writing those letters so she could send it first and thankfully Maester Barry was indulgent to her wishes as always, personally and discreetly sending the letters for her. An easy thing to do since Mellos was no longer Grandmaester, and on top of that has been sick more often than not lately, also no new maesters had been sent by the citadel yet.
Something not for Rhaenyra to worry about anymore. All Rhaenyra needed to focus on now was the places she would get to see and know and explore, all the flying she and her girl would be doing for weeks on end, but most importantly Rhaenyra could scarcely stop thinking how she would soon be with Baela again. She barely had any news of her cousin, even with Uncle Daemon’s men in Runestone Lady Rhea was proving an obstacle and in all these weeks the leader of the Gold Cloaks there was only able to send two missives to Ser Luthor.
It worried Rhaenyra not to truly know how her Baela was faring, how her hatchling was doing, both all alone surrounded by people who did not understand them. If Lady Rhea did not give Baela back to her, Rhaenyra would have a hard time not ordering Syrax to eat that damn sheep of a woman.
At least Aunt Amanda would be there to back her up and as a last resort they would ask Jeyne to order Lady Rhea to send Baela back to the capital. If neither worked, then Rhaenyra would have no choice but ask one of her kepus’ men to make an accident happen to the woman.
Still, with this unofficial tour it would take a bit of time for them to finally reach the Vale and Runestone.
Aunt Amanda, their Vale retinue, Rhaenyra’s two maids, Lord Strong’s family and the guards had left early that morning to ride towards Rosby Castle, the travel by horse and with wheelhouses from the capital to the castle took around 4 to 6 hours depending on the pace so they needed to get a head start. By dragon it was supposed to be just about an hour but since Syrax was still small and carrying Rhaenyra, the dragonkeepers thought it likely to take up to two hours for her to reach the castle.
If everything went according to plan then Rhaenyra would reach the retinue just a short distance from the castle and travel the rest of the way with them.
Considering she would be traveling on the ground too from time to time, her father ordered three kingsguard to accompany her as well as almost two dozen castle guards, still fearing something like what happened to Baela happening to her too. Aunt Amanda agreed, privately, how she indeed would not put it past the Lord Hand to take that example and try some trick of the kind. Rhaenyra though had a suspicion he would not dare yet, not until his whore daughter spawned a little boy demon.
Lord Strong had offered to host a small tourney and feast in her honor at Harrenhal, something her father greatly appreciated, and so the Master of Laws was sending his wife and daughters with her which gave Ser Harwin the opportunity to ask permission to accompany them too and take a few Gold Cloaks along. A few being almost 40 of the best men Ser Luthor personally selected.
Meanwhile Rhaenyra had already talked with Larys, accepting his offer to work for her, so he would be staying to be her eyes and ears in the capital along with Jolene, as well as make sure to foil any of the Hightower whore’s progress or improvements in her queenly duties, and also foil as much as possible any of the Lord Hand’s schemes. Rhaenyra should have been afraid of the evil glint in Larys eyes when she gave him the task but she was not, she was content to have him eager to work for her.
The princess retinue was quite a large group of people which meant a longer travel from one place to the other, and an even bigger expanse of coin that Lord Beesbury surprisingly did not complain about but eagerly organized a tidily budget for her. The organizing of it all took a whole moon, with the kingsguard and Gold Cloaks working to map the best travel routes, as well as timing their ride with the princess’s flights.
Then there was the waiting for the lords’ answers to arrive, as well as give them time to prepare themselves, and the packing of everything. Rhaenyra alone was taking more than half of her belongings, part to be prepared for all occasions and part in fear of Alicent snooping or even taking anything from her rooms.
Tonight they would stay in Rosby Castle, the keep too small to have their retinue staying more than that, then they would keep on the Rosby Road to Duskendale where they would stay 2 or 3 days so Rhaenyra could properly know the port town. After they would make a stop at Rook’s Rest and from there travel to the last crownland’s seat she would visit, the Antlers.
Due its small size compared to other regions and how close the seats of the houses were from one another, it would take just a week, 10 days at best if there was any delays, from them to visit all the chosen castles. Then Rhaenyra would make the first long flight of the tour, after Antlers they would be heading to Harrenhal; they would be staying four days there before heading to a quick stop at Lychester.
The group then would stop by Atranta before visiting Riverrun, a 3 days stay at most, and then they would make their way back so Rhaenyra could visit Harroway Town, the second longest flight she would do during the tour. Right after that visit there would be the third longest flight of her tour when they would finally make their way to the Vale, heading first to Redfort, the seat of aunt Amanda’s husband and where Amara’s twin was staying at.
Once sufficiently rested Rhaenyra would make the fourth longest flight of the tour when the group would travel to Gulltown, another port city for her to know; and also the place where her other aunt and oldest cousin were held prisoners in all but name. From there it was a short trip to Runestone, the one she was most eager to do for the true recompense that travel would give her, and she had no plans to stay there more than necessary.
She would just pack Baela’s things, whether the Royce woman agreed or not, and then finally head to her mother’s birthplace, the Eyrie; the fifth and last long flight of her tour. Since Jeyne’s nameday was still 4 moons away, Rhaenyra would have proper time to get to know the Vale and its people, honour her mother’s memory and learn that side of her ancestry, all while having Baela with her.
Rhaenyra smiled spotting the horses and carriages down in the distance. This was going to be such a great time, an adventure she longed so much for, freedom she never had before. It still saddened her not to have her munã and kepus beside her for this experience but Rhaenyra would still have people she loved and was loved by to share this with.
She could only hope her muña was proud of her wherever she was and that one day she would have this experience with Uncle Daemon beside her, and Baela and their dragons. A true family.
Syrax alighted on the Rosby Road with a low thud and leaned its shoulder so its rider could climb off easier. Rhaenyra smiled at her girl, caressing her neck and softly asked her to keep close and not stray too far; the keepers had fed her well before their flight so the yellow dragon would likely only want for food well into the night.
The princess entourage had stopped and was patiently waiting for her to reach them, her sworn knight already with a horse ready for her. Rhaenyra wished to arrive at every place in a way that the people would see her, in a way she could smile and wave at them to remember who was the Realm’s Delight.
“Are you well, darling?” Aunt Amanda, also riding atop a horse instead of traveling in one of the wheelhouses, asked her when Rhaenyra stopped by her mare’s side. “It must be even colder up there.”
“A bit.” Rhaenyra agreed and then let Ser Criston help her atop the mare; comfortably sat she brought her hands to her cool cheeks that were sure to be flushed from the chilly breeze “But I’m fine, aunt. It was a good flight.”
“Still let’s try to keep you in the air only during the day.” Her aunt said in that usual commanding motherly tone of hers.
Rhaenyra nodded in agreement, despite the nice change in weather from the dry and hotness of summer to a more cool temperature, she was still not too fond of cold. With summer finally over after almost 4 years, autumn had officially began and the climate was slowly changing; late afternoons were much cooler now and the nights even more so.
Mornings and afternoons remained almost the same but Rhaenyra knew that each new week would decrease the temperatures a bit more. According to the Citadel this autumn would be quite short and soon winter would be upon them, though it was likely already winter up North.
They resumed their ride, Rhaenyra riding between her aunt and Ser Criston while her cousin Adrian and Ser Harwin were riding beside her aunt, and Ser Erryk beside her sworn shield. Ser Steffon was in front of them along with about ten Red Keep guards leading the way while the same number of Gold Cloaks rode behind them. The rest of the knights from the Red Keep, the Gold Cloaks and a few Vale knights were spread out around the wheelhouses where the ladies who preferred not to ride atop horses were and the servants as well as the wagons with their belongings and provisions for the road.
It did not take long for them to arrive at the small village that surrounds the castle, great fields of barley and apple orchards all around them; although small and modest, Rhaenyra thought it quite quaint. The people of the village looked on curiously and she made sure to keep on a wide smile for them, waving back to the boldest ones who waved at her.
Lord Rosby and his family were waiting for her in the courtyard of the castle so Rhaenyra climbed out of her mare with Ser Criston helping her again and then walked to the family of five, all of them bowing respectfully when she stopped in front of them.
“Rosby is yours, Your Grace.” The Lord of the castle, a man who have seen over 50 namedays if Rhaenyra remembered correctly, said and then gave her a smile. “We are honoured to host you and your party tonight, my Princess.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She said diplomatically, trying not too crane her neck too much to look at the Lord who was much too tall. “I appreciate you welcoming me and mine in your halls.”
“Our castle and its village are not the biggest but we will make sure everyone is comfortably settled.” He replied then gestured to another man to approach. “This here is our steward and castellan, he will be in charge of caring and settling your entourage.”
“Your Grace.” The man said with a bow to her and then to her aunt. “My Lady.”
“Well met.” Aunt Amanda said with a slight nod and then gestured to her own personal steward to come forward. “You can organize everything with Ed here and Ser Steffon.”
“Lady Amanda, is a pleasure to see you again.” Lord Rosby greeted her aunt with a kiss on her hand, he looked quite besotted with her aunt’s beauty.
“Thankfully in better circumstances.” Her aunt commented with a charming smile.
Some of the castles they would visit had ladies who were snubbed by King Viserys so Rhaenyra and her aunt agreed not to lose every given opportunity to bring up the king’s marriage for those specific lords.
“Yes, yes.” The lord readily agreed, then motioned to the girls and boy beside him. “My Princess, my Lady, these are my son and my three daughters.”
Two of the girls were young women already, in an appropriate age to marry and they would have been better choices for her father if he truly did not wish to endanger her claim, the third girl and the boy were in age with Rhaenyra.
After more presentations were made, Lord Rosby led them inside the castle while chatting excitedly, no doubt content in having her aunt on his arm seemly giving him her full attention. It was as shameless as it was amusing, a widowed man flirting in such a way with a married woman from higher nobility than him.
Rhaenyra knew her aunt did not mind and was used to this kind of behavior, and particularly used it in her favor, a trick she learned long ago she had explained when Rhaenyra asked her about it. A necessary trick women must use whenever necessary.
Lord Rosby and his son accompanied the men that would be sleeping inside the castle to the rooms while his daughters accompanied Rhaenyra and the other women to their rooms. Not even half of their entourage would be housed inside and since it was just for one night Rhaenyra asked to share a room with her cousin Amara and the Strong sisters so there would be more rooms left.
The girls were clearly shocked at her request but did not say anything, complying nonetheless.
She asked the younger girl to stay with them while Rhaenyra and the others got ready for dinner, Lord Rosby two older daughters then accompanied her aunt Amanda and Lady Sally. Her aunt had suggested they be on the lookout for possible candidates to be her future ladies-in-waiting, something Rhaenyra needed to demand sooner rather than later since the Lord Hand was already sending letters to inviting noble ladies to enter the queen’s household.
Despite not wishing for that just yet Rhaenyra understands the necessity of it so she would call for ladies but she would be very strict and selective with who to invite. She did not wish for a snake within her circle like her mother had, a snake that now wore the crown and laid with the king.
After freshening up and changing into a dress, Rhaenyra and the girls made their way to the castle’s great hall. Dinner was a comfortable affair, the Rosby family was very amiable people and led most of the conversation animatedly, and it became clear to Rhaenyra how little they cared about court life or gossip, happy to stay to themselves. Their recipe of barley and beef soup was incredible and Rhaenyra ate it twice, as well as four apple tarts for dessert.
The contented look both her aunt and Lady Sally exchanged warmed her heart, her father did not paid attention to how little she had been eating for moons now nor how much weight she lost because of it. It was good to know some people still did care for her health. By the end of dinner, they made plans for Rhaenyra to have a walk outside in the morning so she could see the apple orchards that were already in full bloom.
She made a note to talk with the Red Keep steward to have more of the Rosby apples brought to the castle for they were more delicious than the apples from wherever they had been buying from, as well as their recipe to their traditional apple cider. She had quite liked the drink, her aunt indulging both her and Amara allowing them to drink a half cup of the alcoholic beverage since it was not a very strong one.
Rhaenyra could not even remember falling asleep, how easily and quick she did that night as soon as she laid down on the bed, surprisingly sleeping through the night without much trouble and no dreams. She still felt a bit tired when aunt Amanda came to wake them early in the morning but it was worth it, for the apple orchards and barley fields were beautiful indeed at dawn when the sun was still rising.
After their walk, they went back inside to break their fast, Lord Rosby excitedly as always to chat through the whole meal. They ate a delicious barley bread with boiled eggs, fruits, more apple tarts and meat pie; whoever the cooks in Rosby were they did an amazing work. The lord’s youngest daughter did not share her father and sister’s extrovert personality, being quite a shy one, but Rhaenyra had liked her all the same. If both the lord and daughter were agreeable she would invite her to be a lady-in-waiting, as well as one of her sisters who aunt Amanda mentioned wished for a better marriage prospect.
They said their farewells and left Rosby by midday, Lord Rosby having gifted Rhaenyra two gallons of apple cider and four crates of apples for the travel.
Rhaenyra mounted Syrax, her girl contented with whatever animal she hunted for dinner last night and that morning, and they soon were back in the air heading for Duskendale. Ser Steffon had kept on towards their next stop, the place where he hailed from and his kin ruled over, the previous night along with a few guards, her maid Nayele and a group of four dragonkeepers, so they would arrive there before Rhaenyra.
From Rosby to Duskendale it was a distance of around 6 hours so Rhaenyra hoped to do another flight of just over two hours. By how swiftly and undaunted Syrax was flying now they just might, her girl quickly getting used to their travel. Rhaenyra marveled at how much the fields of orchards and barley stretched for most of the Rosby Road, it was beautiful to see; an experience she would remember fondly.
Something to tell Baela about when they were reunited, something to do with Baela in a few years. An experience to have with both her kepus and dubāzma once they were all together again as a proper family. Rhaenyra could only hope and pray that would happen soon.
Notes:
Viserys the Clown making the mistake with huge bad consequences of hurriedly marrying because of a inexistent child that his dear friend plotted to ensnare him, poetic justice imo 🤭
If Alicent went off just because of some menstrual blood, imagine if she does start losing babies 😏
*gross topic sorry* Btw this whole late period situation was inspired by own experiences, I do get super late whenever there's too much stress and then when it finally comes it's almost a hemorrhage 😖Amanda x Otto who's going to win in how to best manipulate Vizzy? 🫣
Speaking of Vizzy and Otto, I'm really out doing myself in writing them to be really awful men!! Is it too noticeable how i loathe these two? 🤔😂
Don't let this Alicent fool you though, she is taking baby steps but she will eventually get to her awful self too 🤢 Still gonna remain an unfitting queen 'cause that's the hill I'll die on!!There's a reason why the Citadel is currently doing a mess and delaying sending new maesters to the RK 🫣
So, baby Nyra last pov here I actually had planned to be about her doing her first visits to the city which would then lead her to "see" Camellia with Daemon latest idiocy. Then we would go straight to her arriving to upend Rhea's world 🤭
But like dear grandpa Lyman I thought well, she's already getting out of KL and travelling all the way to the Vale so why not just make her first tour out of it 😌 I'm still planning for a more in depth huge royal progress for later on though
Anyways, with this change Rhae will now find out about Daemon's new child just via letter 💔(who is going to gossip about it?) and next chapter will have much more than what previously planned because of the tour, it's why gonna be huge 😅Links for the fic&chapter if you're interested:
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-27/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
Aemma's wedding dress: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626578003390015/
Alicent's wedding look: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/alicent-hightower/wedding-outfit/
Rhaenyra's look: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfit-chapter-27/
Amanda's look: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626577999476017/
Alicent's new chambers: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/the-red-keep/queen-alicents-chambers/So, let me know your thoughts!!! If you liked it leave kudos and comments, they're my inspiration 🥹❣️
See you in the next one 🥰
Kisses 😘
Chapter 29: Chapter Twenty-Eight: 106 AC Part XIII
Notes:
Heeelllooooou readers!!!!
Took a hot minute to finish this chapter and edit it but here it is 🥰This starts right off where last chapter ended so Rhaenyra gets to Duskendale and this is what i used as a base of the city: https://br.pinterest.com/pin/1096626578005314466/
We also have a look at what Saera is up to, what she's plotting and the introduction of a new character 🫣Not to cause too much confusion: I'll use Triarch for the volantene rulers while Triarchy would be to reference the Myr/Lys/Tyrosh alliance 🤣
This chapter might be a bit of a boring read in some parts with more narrative descriptions and less dialogue but I hope you guys still enjoy it anyways 😅 And remember I take full liberties with canon to turn/make things my own way so likely lots of inaccuracies to be found!!
High Valyrian = bold-italic
English is not my native language and this work is unbetaed, and an entire war to edit on my own 😵💫, so I apologize for any mistakes!!Thank you all so so much for the kudos & comments 🥹 I appreciate them with my whole heart ❣️
Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra arrived in Duskendale by mid-afternoon and unlike Rosby, she quickly found out Duskendale had a considerable size. Though not as big as Kings Landing, it was still a port city nonetheless, and from the air Rhaenyra could spot many ships docked while others were sailing off and the city inside the walls was bustling with life.
Rhaenyra flew Syrax lower and did a lap around the city, too curious not to, spotting big buildings that were likely the famous various septs of the city and the biggest building of all was of course the Darklyns’ fortress, the Dun Fort. Not wishing to be rude, she finally made her way back to the gate where she had already seen people waiting for her.
Syrax landed a short distance from the gate with a heavy thud, lightly shaking her body no doubt anxious to be rid of the saddle for some time.
“A couple days with no constrictions, my love.” Rhaenyra cooed after climbing off the saddle and going to caress her girl’s head. “You can roam free just do not do anything naughty, yes?”
“Your Highness.” One of the dragonkeepers greeted her, the other three on the ready; the keepers would be accompanying her exactly for this longer stays so they could keep an eye on Syrax.
“Hello.” She gave them a smile. “Take good care of my lady.”
The keepers bowed and then approached Syrax after Rhaenyra gave a last pat to her yellow scales and whispered a ‘behave’; she walked up to the entrance of the gatehouse where a group, bigger than the one at Rosby, was waiting for her. Not only members of House Darklyn were there but Rhaenyra could also see people sporting the sigils of Houses Rykker and Hollard.
“Princess Rhaenyra, welcome.” Lord Darklyn, a man around Lord Rosby’s age, greeted her first then bowed down. “Duskendale is yours, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Lord Darklyn, for receiving me.” She said softly and with the diplomatic tone she has been perfecting. “I am eager to know your city. Ser Steffon used to tell beautiful tales whenever my mother asked him about his home.”
“Oh yes Queen Aemma had nothing but praises for my brother.” Lord Darklyn smiled, puffing his chest and looking at the kingsguard in question proudly. “Your mother will be dearly missed by us all.”
“Indeed, brother.” Ser Steffon agreed with a saddened glint in his eyes, then he walked closer to the little princess. “I hope the travel was alright, my Princess?”
“Yes, good Ser, the skies were kind this afternoon.” Rhaenyra answered smiling up at the knight who had been her mother’s protector for as long as she could remember. Unfortunately he could not protect her from the king he is sworn to first and foremost. “My aunt and the rest of our retinue will hopefully arrive in time for dinner.”
“Wonderful. I have prepared a marvelous feast to welcome you in our shores, Your Grace.” Lord Darklyn said, hand resting on the belt hanging low around his big belly. “Now, let me introduce the rest of my family. This here is my pride and joy, Gunthor, and his wife Lady Meredyth.”
Lord Darklyn’s son and heir was a young man no older than twenty, strikingly like Ser Steffon in appearance, and his wife a couple years younger was sporting a heavy pregnant belly. They greeted her just as warmly. Lord Darklyn had two younger children just a couple years younger than his firstborn, a son and daughter, and his second rather young wife was heavy with child too. After Lord Darklyn introduced his other brother with his wife and children too; Ser Steffon was the youngest and third hence why was allowed to take the white.
Then Rhaenyra was introduced to Lord and Lady Rykker along with their three children, a girl not much older than her and a pair of twin boys no older than three. Lord Hollard was next and Rhaenyra made sure to fuss over the ancient Lord, he seemed to be as old as that rat Rucinter had been, troubling himself to come greet her. He was quite the nice old man, smiling in a grandfatherly way to her, before introducing his very young great-grandson and only heir; why the house was down to only two members she ought to discover later.
Rhaenyra also got to meet a few members of the Darklyns’ branch houses, the Darkes, Dargoods and Darkwoods.
Then Lord Darklyn led the way to a few litters waiting for them, the lord intending for them to make a small procession towards the Dun Fort so she could get a glimpse of some places in the city. Rhaenyra attentively listened to Lord Darklyn talk on and on about the history of his house and the city, even if she already knew some of it due her diligent study about every house and castle she would stop by.
When the ride stopped at the Dun Fort, Rhaenyra almost sighed in relief and silently thanked Ser Steffon for suggesting, ordering really, that she got some rest before the feast that night. Maybe it was all the long flying she was unused to but just like the previous day Rhaenyra was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, a peaceful nap of a few hours restoring her energy.
Rhaenyra was woken up by a very energetic Amara, then both her aunt and maid came in to help her get ready for the feast; apparently Lord Darklyn had not exaggerated about the grand feast he had organized according to what Nayele heard from the other servants.
After a bath, Rhaenyra was helped into one of the dozen lavish new dresses she commissioned back in the capital while waiting for her tour to be put together; it was all Targaryen colors while the ones in tribute of the Arryns she would wear only when in the Vale. Her maid Nayele braided her hair as she often did, nothing too much intricate this time but Valyrian nonetheless, then Amara and Lucile helped her choose what jewelery to wear.
Since gaining some weight back, she was now able to wear Grandmother Alyssa’s ring her kepus gave to her and despite wanting to use it all the time Rhaenyra was too afraid to lose it, so she preferred to put it on just in certain occasions. She put on more rings as was her preference, as well as the earrings Uncle Daemon gifted her and the new dragon crown the king commissioned her for her ninth nameday.
Rhaenyra wanted to remind all these lords and ladies and their people who was the true Targaryen princess, not some half Hightower breed Alicent might birth but her, Rhaenyra Targaryen heir to the Iron Throne.
Her maid had heard right about Lord Darklyn’s grand feast, Rhaenyra quickly found out when entering the castle’s great hall. In attendance was not only the people who received her earlier but all the nobility of Duskendale and Lord Darklyn gave a long winded speech before finally ordering the feast to commence.
Since this was Ser Steffon’s home, Rhaenyra asked him to take the night off and join his family at the high table, letting Ser Criston, Ser Harwin and a number of other knights as their guards for the night.
Ser Erryk and a group of other guards would be resting that night and the next day since they would travel to their next stop first; Nayele would again also go with them while her newest maid Tilda would stay. Despite the princess reservations in taking a new maid, Tilda was one of the youngest of aunt Amanda’s maids who was usually tasked of caring for Amara but she convinced Rhaenyra to take the girl as her new maid instead.
Since Rhaenyra liked her white knight too much she also ordered him to partake in the feast a couple times as well, to drink some wine and eat some of the marvelous food. Not the proper protocol she knew but that seemed to endear her more than anything to most of the people attending.
Lord Darklyn’s feast could rival the feasts King Viserys was known to throw often, something Rhaenyra made sure to point out; there was many different dishes served and lots of music, and even a brief mummer’s presentation. She had so much fun and forgot all about the worries that constantly plagued her mind, at some point even going to the dance floor and spending a while dancing with many of the young boys and man and knights present, as well as the girls too.
It felt like a lifetime ago since the last time Rhaenyra experienced something like this. Not even her ninth nameday saw the usual celebration her parents would always organize, instead of a grand banquet or a tourney, there was just another small gathering for a picnic. And only because Aunt Amanda had been very insistent in doing it or else Rhaenyra would have spent it like any other day.
She did not feel right in celebrating her day without her mother and uncle around like they always were the previous years; her kepus was not always successful but he tried to be in Westeros during her namedays, going so far as to defile King Jaehaerys’ orders one time.
Enjoying this night though made Rhaenyra see the benefits of such thing, at least sometimes, at least for a few hours. Maybe that was her father’s reasoning in constantly seeking this sort of entertainment.
On the way back to the chambers she would be sleeping in, sharing it once more with her cousin and Lucile, Aunt Amanda told her all people could talk about was the delight their princess was. But also how a smart, precocious and diligent princess Rhaenyra was, how perhaps the king had a good reason to make her heir and that his new wife was really just for warming his bed. Whispers that both her aunt and Lady Sally not so discreetly fanned so it would spread.
Rhaenyra slept even easier and peacefully knowing her first day in Duskendale was a complete success. The next day was also a success, busier than she expected and tiring too but a success nonetheless.
That morning Tilda, along with Lucile’s own maid, were the ones to help the three of them to get ready for the day. Due the late night they woke late in the morning as well, their mothers’ letting them rest while both Ladies Amanda and Sally worked with young Lady Darklyn to organize a breakfast.
The meal was a smaller affair with only the immediate family of Lord Darklyn, Lord Hollard and Lord Rykker; it was a good opportunity for Rhaenyra to get to know them better and more intimately.
Lord Darklyn’s second wife, a girl just shy of ten and seven namedays, was from the branch house Darke and her husband not so discreetly suggested if perhaps Ser Steffon could take her younger brother, Harrold Darke, as his squire. As well as suggest his daughter as potential lady in waiting if the princess was looking for such, something Lord Rykker quickly followed in suggesting his own daughter.
Unlike the Rosbys, the Darklyns and Rykkers were much more interested for the royal’s politics and court games.
Without Ser Steffon present, Rhaenyra stated she could not speak for him in regards to take on a squire but she would speak with him about it, and regarding ladies-in-waiting she was not yet searching for them but would soon. So she suggested spending more time with both girls to know them better to consider for the position.
Answers that greatly satisfied both Lords. Rhaenyra then turned her attention to Lord Hollard who was watching everything in silence but with keen intelligent eyes; apparently the lord was not truly as old as she thought him to be but just ravaged by the tragedies in his life. Much like the Old King and Good Queen, Lord Hollard had the luck to have many children, seven in total, but lost them all in different ways through the years.
The only grandchildren he had, two young man and one young woman died just two years past from a sickness that afflicted the city. Only one of his grandsons was married and had had a son of his own, hence why now House Hollard was down to only two members. The boy’s mother, a distant relative of Lord Brune and one of his son’s wife, a Dargood, helped him run their small castle and raise the boy as the future Lord Hollard.
Rhaenyra felt quite bad for the old lord, and his house, likely because of how the story was like that of her own House. So upon knowing how knowledgeable he was about ships, ports and the likes, she had the idea to talk with her father about naming the old lord as the new Master of Ships. If the Lord Hand has not already filled the position by the time she was back, that is. Her aunt proudly approved of her idea.
Once luncheon was done, it was almost midday, the sun was out and a bit too hot for a stroll in the city so instead Lord Darklyn suggested to take the princess on a pleasure barge around the port waters.
Ser Criston was visibly beyond tired, despite trying to keep a strong façade, and Ser Steffon ordered him to go rest while he took the duty as her guard for the day. The way her white knight did not protest as he usually did whenever having to leave her side told Rhaenyra he must have been dead on his feet already. Aunt Amanda followed the example and in a very motherly way ordered Adrian to go to bed as well, making her cousin flush bright red in embarrassment.
They all went to the Inner Harbor and took two barges out into the water. Rhaenyra got to see the old harbour and then the outer docks, Lord Darklyn talking everything possible about it all.
They sailed farther into Blackwater and Rhaenyra excitedly watched a group of small whales swimming closer to the surface before the barge sailed towards the Fisher’s pier. The smell of fish wafting from the pier was strong and awful but still a nice experience to watch the people working there; according to Lord Darklyn he requested the fishermen for tunas and squids so Rhaenyra could taste those culinary specialty of Duskendale in the banquet that night.
After that they sailed towards the Garden of Dusk, a beautiful verdant space, where they would have a late lunch. The garden was not even close to the size of the Red Keep’s gardens but it was still beautiful with plenty of flowers and trees all around; the shade and breeze was a good respite from the salty air of the port.
There Rhaenyra questioned about the city’s port, if it has been affected by the Triarchy high tolls in the Stepstones which Lord Darklyn explained it had mainly affected trade with Essos but so far they were able to keep good enough trade within Westeros waters and land, something that could only last so long the lord admitted considering the prediction of winter rapidly approaching.
Rhaenyra planned to ask the same question whenever possible in the few ports she would pass by in hopes the Lords answers would make her father see his Hand’s misleading information and that way the king could give his blessing to the campaign in the islands as well as send any necessary aid. As a Prince of the Blood and the reason King Viserys even sat the throne, her kepus was owed that much.
Before returning to Dun Fort, Rhaenyra was taken for a quick visit to the Merchant Isle that was close to the garden. She bought many trinkets, despite the vendors and Lord Darklyn not wishing her to pay she insisted, for herself and her companions, as well as a couple ones to gift her father if only to pretend she thought of him while away. Rhaenyra also found a small statue meant to be Queen Visenya atop Vhagar that she instantly thought to gift Baela, also a dragon headband for her little cousin and matching dragon bracelets for them both.
Once back at Dun Fort her aunt and Lady Sally ushered the children to go take a nap, which Rhaenyra eagerly agreed. She could now see how too sheltered she really had been within the halls of the Red Keep with not truly much to do and now just this small carousing around was enough to make her exhausted. Hopefully by the time she reached the Vale she would be better used to the routine for Rhaenyra wanted to do everything and anything there was to do in her mother’s homeland.
The banquet that night was a less extravagant affair with less people but just as many dishes served. Rhaenyra did not enjoy the grilled tuna much, unlike Amara and little Cora, but loved the spicy fried squid and the stuffed squid; all washed down by a cup of apple cider.
After desert she asked the bards to play a happy tune and again Rhaenyra took to the dance floor, this time only accompanied by the children; they stayed up late into the night, witnessing their parents get a bit too tipsy or really drunk. Lord Rykker’s daughter finally loosened up a bit and Rhaenyra was able to talk more than just two words with the girl. Though she seemed amiable to the idea of leaving home, Lord Darklyn’s daughter not so much and she discreetly let Rhaenyra know that.
Rhaenyra, Amara and Lucile took the opportunity of their mothers’ distraction and drank another cup of apple cider each which quickly saw them too giddy. Ser Harwin did not say anything when seeing them do it but was fast in calling Ser Criston, who had just returned back to his post, to help take them back to their chambers when they became much too loud around the hall.
Another successful and tiring, as well as joyful, day that had Rhaenyra fast asleep as soon as Tilda and Nayele helped her under the covers with her white knight hawk eyes ensuring his princess was safely in bed before closing the door.
The next and last day of their stay in Duskendale was even busier since Lord Darklyn would take Rhaenyra through the city, there was many spots for her to know. Not to cause too much hurdle around the streets, Rhaenyra would go out only with Lord Darklyn, his son Gunthor, Lord Rykker’s daughter, little Cora Strong – Amara and Lucile would stay behind as punishment - and both Ser Steffon and Ser Criston along with a few guards as their security.
They first went to Old Quarter where the Long Sept was, and Rhaenyra mentioned that although not really a follower of the Faith she deeply respected it and had learned dutifully from her septas, only parts of it were true but Lord Darklyn did not need to know that. Thankfully he did not seem offended by it but still wished for her to visit their septs.
After that they visited the Smith’s road, which much like Street of Steel in Kings Landing, was where the smiths forges and shops were. Rhaenyra was surprised when they stopped by the biggest forge and Lord Darklyn presented her with a small feminine sword, though more of a big dagger really in the hands of grown men, a suggestion of present given by Ser Steffon.
The look her mother’s sworn shield gave when Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow in question let her know he was very aware the dangers lurking inside the Red Keep with the king’s new marriage. Perhaps this was his way of doing something more for her like he was unable to for her mother, Rhaenyra wondered.
They visited the Slim Quarter and the Pointed Sept before heading towards the Seven Swords, the city’s biggest inn and where a crowd was awaiting for a chance to closely see a royal princess, a Targaryen. Rhaenyra was a little taken aback by that, not really expecting commonfolk outside Kings Landing to earnestly wishing to see her.
Whether because Syrax sensed danger in the crowd slowly getting too rowdy around her or just because Rhaenyra felt a little too overwhelmed, the yellow dragon made its first appearance since their first arrival. Rhaenyra actually thought her lady had gone far off to enjoy the freedom but the dragon was clearly close by as its rider had requested considering how quickly Syrax descended from the sky to slowly fly above Rhaenyra, just a short distance up in the air.
That scared some enough to all but fleet while others only got more excited so the kingsguard took that as their sign to quickly move to their next stop. Workers’ Quarter was bustling with life in the many shops and stalls all around, Rhaenyra bought more things as souvenirs to remember the place and also gift her people with.
Lord Darklyn once more surprised her when taking her to a lavish shop where he gifted her with a set piece of jewelry made of pure gold as well as a beautiful tiara of sparkling violet stones. Either he just wished to gain her favor or wanted to plant the seeds of possibly suggesting his son as a suitor for her in the future, Rhaenyra was fast to suspect.
They stopped again at the Garden of Dusk for some afternoon refreshments before making their way back to the Dun Fort. Rhaenyra arrived just in time to see Ser Erryk, Nayele and their group off, wishing them a swift and safe travel to Rook’s Rest; while they would be leaving that afternoon, the rest of the retinue would leave later that night and Rhaenyra the next morning.
That night dinner was a more intimate affair with only the Darklyns, a nice respite from the previous nights, there was some baked codfish with honey and more of that spicy squid she liked. After dinner, Rhaenyra said her farewells to her aunt, cousin and the Strongs,along with the rest of their retinue, praying to the Fourteen to make their night travel a safe journey. Thankfully she would have her cousin Adrian as company for breakfast the next morning.
Tilda helped her into a nightgown and brushed her hair from all the tangles of the day, then Rhaenyra again easily fell asleep.
The next day, Rhaenyra broke her fast with Lords Darklyn, Rykker and Hollard, and their families and the Darklyns’ branch houses. Ser Steffon and Ser Criston kept guard close by while Adrian sat beside her, acting as perfectly as he always did whenever he was forced to play Lord Redfort’s heir and a scion of the Arryns. Rhaenyra knew Adrian disliked such position, preferring the training yard and deeply wishing that now his squire years were done he could be knighted soon.
Perhaps she should talk her aunt into it, Ser Steffon as a renowned knight and kingsguard despite not even being forty yet could easily bestow such reward if Adrian was to win a competition. Her cousin could be the first knight to be a of the household she would have to build once back from her tour, what better protection she could hope for than that of family?
Once their meal was done, Rhaenyra asked the three lords to remain for a private talk with her. Her aunt had helped her the previous day with what and how to propose her ideas to them, so Rhaenyra straightened her back and held her chin a bit higher in hopes to look less like the child she was and more like an heiress princess.
“Lord Darklyn, my stay here has been marvellous and I’m grateful for the effort you put into it. I endeavour to return again for the official royal tour father and I have planned for the future.” Rhaenyra started which made said lord puff his chest with pride. “Hopefully with more time so I can visit Houses Hollard and Rykker’s castles.”
“It will be an honor to receive you, Princess Rhaenyra.” Lord Hollard said with a gentle smile.
“With the king along, no less. Duskendale will rejoice with such honor.” Lord Rykker added.
“Indeed, my friend.” Lord Darklyn agreed. “Just send us a raven beforehand and I will organize an even bigger welcoming.”
“I’ll be sure to pass such kind words to the king, my lords.” She smiled sweetly, then added. “Now, about your request of considering your daughters as my ladies-in-waiting. I have spent time and talked with both of them, their wishes and happiness are very important to me as well. That said, your daughter does not wish to leave the safety of home, Lord Darklyn and please do not begrudge or punish her for it.” Rhaenyra did not like the glint in the lord’s eyes upon the revelation so she quickly continued. “But we talked and although she is not ready to leave home yet she was happy with my proposition to help with finding her a splendid match in a couple more years.”
“Oh, that is… Thank you, my Princess. That will be much appreciated.” Lord Darklyn seemed appeased enough with that, for now at least.
Although a house of old heritage and kings themselves once upon a time, nowadays in comparison to other houses and families they could be considered somewhat lesser which made the marriage of their daughters not the greatest also in comparison to others. However, if a princess was to stir Lord Darklyn’s daughter in the right direction the girl could find herself even in a paramount house, if they were to be lucky.
“Your daughter, Lord Rykker, is amiable to the idea and although quite shy I did enjoy her company so I’ll keep her in mind during my decision.” Rhaenyra said next making the Lord smile widely. “Lord Hollard, you mentioned that your good-daughter is quite efficient in running the castle, yes?”
“Yes, she is, my Princess. She was supposed to be Lady of the castle after all had my son not perished.” Lord Hollard confirmed.
“Well, I have thought that if you were to agree, I could speak with my father and suggest your name to fill the position of Master of Ships.” Rhaenyra said to which the old lord widened his eyes in genuine surprise.
“My Princess, I did not… Oh you caught me by surprise now.” Lord Hollard chuckled nervously.
“You have great aptitude in such matter and I’m sure Lord Darklyn would help guide you as well.” She looked over at the lord whose frowned expression changed at her words, no doubt let any offense slide at the chance to be also recognized.
“Yes, yes, of course my Princess.” He nodded in earnest.
“And maybe once Lady Meredyth gives birth, Lord Gunthor could come to the capital and be an unofficial apprentice to Lord Hollard. If he were to become the new master, of course.” Rhaenyra took Lord Darklyn by surprise now; these were bold promises she knew but she needed to start testing her mantle somewhere and to fortify her hold over the Crownlands. “And if the mothers are agreeable your young sons, and great-grandson, can come to the capital once they’re old enough to start their training and become squires to the knights there.”
By the time Rhaenyra would have to ascend her throne, all these young boys would be man, and she learned from her kepus how important a loyal army of men was to one’s cause. They would all be in debt to the princess who guaranteed their training under the tutelage of the best men-at arms and squiring to the most renowned knights.
Rhaenyra left Duskendale with an utter sense of victory having achieved all she set out to do, at least in two places, and it was an exhilarating feeling to have; something that was only heightened once she was up in the air in connection with Syrax. No wonder men went to war for titles and lands and thrones, to feel such power over others by the work of her own plans and decisions was one of the best things Rhaenyra ever felt.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Saera and her family were having a comfortable and peaceful dinner together, sharing idle talks between themselves, when Shaena strode into the dining chamber all raised chin and prideful brown eyes.
“And the prodigal daughter returns home!” Saera exclaimed sarcastically, avoiding the use of High Valyrian to further show her actual displeasure. “Have you tired of eating and sleeping with whores, dear? Finally wants back your luxurious life?”
“No, Saera. I simply missed my siblings.” Shaena retorted with an arched brow then went to give a kiss in both Belicho’s and Skylar’s heads.
“We missed you too, sister.” Belicho smiled widely up at her, teeth all smudged with food.
“We did… And Daelius was sad not to say farewell to you too.” Skylar said innocently though she knew better than to believe the innocence of her little sister’s comment.
“He certainly did.” Malik, her stepfather, agreed. “We always wish to say our farewells to everyone we care about before going off to a war we might not return from.”
Shaena gritted her teeth, unwilling to show her regret over her behaviour that cost her saying goodbye to her brother.
“A war I was supposed to go along if Saera did not view girls just the way her father did.” She snapped angrily instead, staring down at her mother and relishing in the way her expression darkened.
“Shaena.” Malik said in a warning tone, diplomatic as ever and not wishing to receive the fury of his wife later on because her daughter was too much infuriating like her. “Let us not ruin a nice evening... Sit down and eat with us.”
“Why don’t you take the children to eat dessert in the garden instead, husband?” Saera suggested but they both knew it was actually an order. “The evening tonight is quite nice. I do not wish it ruined for them because of their insolent sister.”
Shaena rolled her eyes but sat down knowing better than to keep avoiding this discussion with her mother. Saera Targaryen could be patient and forgiven with her children just for so long, Shaena knew her mother would order her dragged back home sooner or later and she would rather keep her dignity intact.
“You are right, my dear, better we enjoy dessert outside tonight.” He agreed with a nod and stood up, then looked at the younger ones. “Come children, let us give your mother and sister space to solve their issues.”
“Just do not kill each other.” Skylar quipped rolling her eyes too and making Belicho giggled.
“Can we eavesdrop like last time, father?” Belicho asked not too discreetly when grabbing his father’s offered hand.
“Not this time, son.” Malik replied chancing a guilty look his wife’s way, now he would for sure suffer her fury anyways if her squinted eyes was any indication.
“Too serious a talk for us to hear this time then?” Skylar was the next to ask, holding her stepfather’s other hand while they walked out of the room.
“That’s right, darling… Perhaps next time, huh?” He whispered the last part conspiratorially though the echo in the room allowed both mother and daughter to hear.
“A lesson tonight then, husband?” Saera asked deceptively calm and smirked when her husband threw her a wink over his shoulder. The man liked being tied up and whipped way too much, Saera thought with a snort.
“Gross.” Shaena muttered under her breath while piling food on her plate, she did missed the amazing meals made by the mansion’s cooks.
“As if you haven’t been fucking like crazy in all sorts of ways these past weeks to sooth your hurt ego, daughter.” Saera bit back, expression hardening again.
Shaena flushed and kept her head down in embarrassment, focusing on her food instead. Despite the freedom and liberties her mother raised them with, offering a safe and comfortable environment they could talk about everything and anything with her, it was still disconcerting to be reminded her mother always knew exactly what she and Daelius got up to in the pleasure houses.
Saera might give plenty of freedom to her children once she deemed them old and ready enough for it but that did not mean she did not kept a close eye on them all the same; she was very overprotective and overbearing with her children in the same way her own parents had been. The Wise King and Good Queen might have been negligent and awful parents in many ways but Saera could not deny how her father knew how to be overprotective and her mother overbearing when they wanted to.
Daelius and Shaena may get to spent time in Volantis for however long they wished whenever they needed but Saera would still get information of their whereabouts and activities at least every two days.
Something else she learned from her parents, in this case what not to do, was to remain calm and wait for her children to let off their chest whatever grievances they have in their own time, once they are ready instead of just starting a unnecessary fight where only she would talk, hurling off accusations and painful words she could never take back.
Saera would never forget Jaehaerys last words to her right before he ordered his kingsguard to force her into a carriage to be sent away: ‘not his daughter or a princess or even a Targaryen anymore, just a nameless whore who should be grateful her loving mother convinced the King to give her a second chance’.
“I’m sorry for what I said.” Shaena said genuinely regretful for hurting her mother with that comment.
“You better be.” Saera snapped away from her memories and saying that a bit too harshly because of it. “You know better than to say or believe such outrageous words.”
“Then why did not let me go with Del?” She asked, indignation and hurt returning.
“What exactly did you expect to achieve in a warzone while only knowing how to twirl your little knives?” Saera retorted with exasperation.
“I’m sure there could be something else useful for me to do.” Shaena insisted stubbornly.
“Yes, for sure… The soldiers would love to have at least one cunt around to shove their cocks in whenever they needed some relief from the trials of the battlefield.”
“Del and Daemon would protect me from that.” Shaena whispered though she let her shoulders sag in defeat, knowing her mother was right.
“When they were around and close to do that, darling but you know they would not always be able to.” Saera said softening her tone. “I would rather have you hate me than allow you or your sister to go through things women should never have to experience. Things that scar us so deep it takes much too long to heal, if it ever truly does.”
Shaena averted her eyes from the look in Saera’s eyes, unlike Daelius she was unable to learn how to face their mother’s pain regarding some of the things she did had to go through when living in Lys and working in their pleasure gardens. Not even Saera’s tittle of princess, daughter of a king who rode a dragon, saved her from what most if not all whores experience in that line of work.
Perhaps she never learned that because she knew better than Daelius about it, having witnessed such thing once; though she never had the courage to tell her mother or anyone about it, that was a scene that still haunted her darkest nightmares.
“And if I was to start now training day and night to learn the sword and able to become proficient in a few weeks, would you let me go then?” She still asked stubborn as much as her mother, though her tone was more subdued and spirit not really in it any longer.
“No, Shaena.” Her mother answered without hesitation which only made Shaena feel exasperation of her own but before she could say anything, her mother added. “And if you hadn’t played bratty little child throwing a tantrum unnecessarily, you would know by now why I would not let you go either way.”
“Why mother?”
“Because I need you here with me, Shae, so we will work together in what comes next for our family.” Saera answered, reclining further into the chair, allowing herself to truly relax now they would finally be past this fight.
“What do you mean?” She asked with a furrowed brow in confusion and interest, reclining into her chair too, looking earnestly at her mother now. “What is to come next, mother… What are you plotting now?”
“Well, I must admit that my nephew’s ambitions and determination was quite inspiring.” Saera replied with a small smile. “So I thought that perhaps we should follow his example and go out there to conquer a land for ourselves.”
“What?” Now Shaena was completely lost, utterly confused wherever this was coming from all of a sudden.
“Volantis has been welcoming and kind to us like Lys never really was, that is true.” She said losing herself again in unpleasant memories. “And despite all that I achieved here after what we lived back there, the actual good life I was able to build to give you and your siblings…” Saera chuckled humourlessly. “All the great things we actually did live here and still this place never really felt like home. Not to me.”
“I don’t think we really have or will ever have a true home, mother.” Shaena commented, sadden to with that fact. “Not when we do not belong.”
“Both homes we do belong, the home you and your siblings should have known and grew in… Unattainable dreams.” Saera smiled sadly; it was the one regret she felt over her actions all those years ago, the fact that harmed her children now. “But we can still make a home for ourselves, darling. Build a place where we will belong because it will be ours.”
“How so?” She asked, listening with bated breath for whatever plans and schemes her mother was up to now.
“With Daemon and Caraxes arriving on the Stepstones to di their own conquering, the Three Whores will be much to focused there, in need to send all they have to fight against a dragon.” Saera explained with a little smirk. “They will have to leave the Disputed Lands unprotected and ripe for the taking of Volantis once more.”
“That is the deal you made with them, isn’t it?” Shaena quickly puzzled the pieces together. “You convinced the Triarch to help Daemon’s campaign so they could use it as a distraction to advance and retake those lands without much of a fight.”
“Smart girl.” Saera smile with pride the leaned over the table. “Except in the end, after their little troubles of retaking it, I will be the one taking and owning it.”
“You mean to backstab both the Triarch and your nephew.” Shae stated, only critically over the last part.
“Only the Triarch, darling.”
“You lied to Daemon tough, mother.”
“No, I simply omitted some details.” Saera corrected with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Once I have enacted my plan and he is done with his war, we can talk honestly and come to a new agreement.” She added with a grin. “After all, we will need a dragon to protect what is ours.”
“Daemon does not seem like a man who take such ‘omissions’ lightly, or forgives it.” Shae said crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, not comfortable to treat her cousin in such way for she grew truly fond of him despite the short time spent together.
“He is much like Alyssa in that.” Saera chuckled at the memory of her fiery sister holding grudges for dear life. “But just like her, Daemon also knows how to bite his tongue and still work with the person who might have slighted him if it means some beneficial gain to him.”
Saera remembers well how Alyssa poured a flagon of wine over Vaegon’s head in defence of their sweet Daella and later beat him in the yard but even disgruntled with him still helped in their planning of how to ensure he escaped any marriages.
It was Alyssa who subtly questioned their mother one day if becoming a maester would not be best for Vaegon since he loved his books more than a cunt. Their mother was appalled by her language despite the years of Alyssa’s ways but that helped the queen in seeking the Grandmaester’s opinion about it.
Sometimes Saera wonders if it would not have been better to ensure Daella married Vaegon, maybe then her sweet sister would still be alive. But then there would not now exist the possibility of a Queen Regnant for the first time in Westeros, a voice whispered in her mind, proud to know the granddaughter of her three siblings wore that mantle.
“Perhaps you should do the same.” Shaena’s voice broke her off her reverie.
“What?’ She asked confused.
“When Daemon wins the Stepstones he means to make it his little kingdom, no?” Shaena questioned, despite not been privy to her mother’s and cousin’s plotting, she also was quick to puzzle the pieces together with the little she knew. “That will certainly be a good gift to court his niece with once she is of age, their marriage putting him close to the throne again.”
“My darling, darling girl…” Saera smile widely. “You would have been perfect for court games.”
“Thank you, mother.” Shaena preened under her mother’s proud eyes. “But what I mean is, he eventually won’t have time or desires to be our dragon guardian which would leave us defenceless against the Three Whores and Volantis retribution… A city is not build in a just a few years.” She continued to explain, heart beating faster the closer she got to what she really wished to try for. “If we were to have a dragon of our own though…”
“Oh I see.” Saera lips thinned and she fought a grimace over the memories of her failed attempt in going to the pit to claim a dragon. “I assume you wish to be the one with a dragon to be the protector?”
“Yes.” Shae whispered ducking her head bashfully. “It is just… I always felt this calling inside, mother. A pull towards something. I never understood it but when I got to be close to a dragon, it finally clicked.” She explained and looked up at her mother. “In my head and in my soul.”
“Oh sweet girl, I always knew dragon’s blood runs thicker in you than in your siblings.” Saera sighed. “That look in your eyes whenever you look to the skies, the same longing Alyssa had before claiming Meleys.”
“I know it is complicated but not impossible now that Viserys Targaryen is the one sitting on the throne.” Shaena said hopeful. “He does not seem to have the same qualms your father had about sharing dragons.”
“Loath as I am to admit it but Jaehaerys was right in not giving away dragons to us.” Saera retorted with a slight grimace. “If my sisters had lived, if I have stayed in Westeros, if each of us had a dragon and then married outside the family… How long until a war broke with more houses with dragons under their yoke? Westeros would become nothing but ashes if a war between dragons was to happen” She said with a sigh, cursing her mother and older nephew for giving that power to the Velaryons. “It is already bad enough the Velaryons have the same number of claimed dragons as my family.”
Shaena bit her lip not to comment something snarky; ever since Daemon’s time with them her mother suddenly started to view the Targaryens as family again. It was no longer them but us, no longer their family but my family.
“Which leads us to the same problem, Shae.” Saera continued. “If we were to have a dragon, eggs would eventually come, yours and yourssiblings’ children and their children might have dragons then how long until Essos would be the one turning into ashes in a dragon war? Maybe even a war between both continents… No, that is much too dangerous, darling.”
“Not if we only ever have the one dragon.” Shaena retorted, already forming a plan. “Dragons live for centuries right? Then if the Westerosi king was to agree we can sign a contract that we would only ask for one dragon and that any eggs we would return back to the Targaryens. We can build a tradition to pass the dragon from parent to child.”
“Huh.” Saera thought her daughter’s words over, although not the most flawless of ideas, it had its merits. “It is a thought… Could work, not on the long run but long enough a couple generations would be dust by time anything went awry.” She chuckled then shook her head, she was never able to say no to her sweet girl. “Alright then. Let’s do it.”
“Great. Now you just have to finally reach out to your family across the narrow sea and make peace.” Shaena feigned an innocent smile that had her mother narrowing her eyes. “The people who did slight you are long gone anyways.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
After a flight of over three hours, while the horses and carriages took almost eight hours to arrive, Rhaenyra landed in Rook’s Rest. Lord Staunton welcomed Rhaenyra and her retinue just as warmly as Lords Rosby and Lord Darklyn, and the two days stay in Rook’s Rest was a tranquil moment from all the bustling of Duskendale.
Lord Staunton was around her aunt’s age, having inherited the seat from his father over a year ago, and much like Lord Rosby was utterly enchanted by her aunt. Considering he was still surprisingly unmarried, Rhaenyra was sure the lord would have asked Aunt Amanda in marriage if she was not already married.
The first morning there the men went out for some hunting in the denser part of the forest, returning to the castle with killed squirrels, two foxes and a lynx – a type of big and wild cat she did not even know existed – and even a black bear that Lord Staunton wanted to offer the meat to her dragon and the fur to her. At least she did not need to worry about Syrax food here. After lunch, which saw her eating pot roast of fox with mushrooms and also grilled lynx meat for the first time, they enjoyed the afternoon with a nice ride through the piney and refreshing woods.
Lord Staunton rode close to Aunt Amanda while Rhaenyra was entertained by his two cousins, a beautiful young lady and a boyish girl her age. Later her aunt told how the lord confided in her with the why he was still unmarried; apparently after losing his long time betrothed to illness just moons before their marriage some years ago, Lord Staunton still felt too traumatized to consider marrying again. How Rhaenyra wished her father had been the same.
Aunt Amanda encouraged her to invite him to court so he could try his luck in falling in love again, which Lord Staunton eagerly accepted, and of course did not need to know that any matches would be stirred by both aunt and niece.
In her aunt’s opinion, Queen Alysanne might not have been the best in her own children and grandchildren’s matches but she had been good in doing it for her ladies and other nobles which ensured their loyalty to her and the Crown. Something her aunt thought a good idea for them to start trying to pursue in this travel before the Lord Hand gave the same idea to his daughter.
In their last day in Rook’s Rest, again a group left half a day before Rhaenyra so they would reach their next destination well ahead of her while the rest of her retinue would leave just some hours before her. Though the Strongs and a few of the Gold Cloaks had not stop in Rook’s Rest with them, instead going ahead towards Harrenhal, Lady Sally wanting to see to some of the organization of the tourney and banquets herself.
For the first time in the tour, Rhaenyra would be taking someone from one of the castles along with her. Lord Staunton younger cousin, Samya, pleaded with her parents and cousin to allow her to go to the tourney since she never went to one and Rhaenyra was unable to refuse when Lord Staunton asked her to take the girl along.
Rhaenyra quite liked her, especially her exciting talks about swordplay and archery, and impulsively Rhaenyra decided to take her into her retinue for the rest of the trip which Lord Staunton earnestly accepted. Perhaps she would make Lord Darklyn’s gift something more useful than just a decorative bauble.
From Rook’s Rest to Antlers it was also around an eight hours travel by horse so Rhaenyra again flew over three hours, almost four since Syrax and her met some windy currents that slowed her girl a little. And by the time Rhaenyra landed on the seat of House Buckwell by midday she was feeling her face frozen, the only part of her body uncovered and at the mercy of the chilly winds.
Lady Buckwell did not even bothered with any presentations, ushering her inside the castle towards the great hall where a hearth was quickly lit, something her white knight was visibly grateful for. Lady Buckwell also ordered hot tea to be prepared which Rhaenyra was grateful for needing to feel some warmth on the inside too; dragons did not fare well in anything other than hot temperatures. Once there was some color back to her lips and her cheeks were flushed from heat and not the cold winds, Lady Buckwell called her family in.
The head of the house Lord Buckwell had passed away some years ago and so Lady Buckwell, a woman who seemed not much older than her aunt Amanda, was acting as regent until their eldest son became of age the next year. Lord and Lady Buckwell had four children, three boys and one girl, the youngest being a boy of ten namedays; unlike her mother who was very serious and a bit solemn, young Lady Buckwell was a very extrovert and bubbling girl.
Maybe it was just some inherent Targaryen instinct about such things but Rhaenyra noticed a different sort of closeness between two of the four siblings, she would pretend not to notice though. Westeros still shuddered over the thought of close relatives like siblings being in romantic relationships, something entirely unacceptable, the Targaryens the only exception to the rule.
She spent the day mostly inside, taking the opportunity to lazy around a little, the two Buckwell women showing the castle to her and then a quick walk around the village surrounding it. Much like Rosby, Antlers was very small though less rustic and had many vegetables crops as well as a plantation of green grapes, which they made an amazing wine from or so her aunt complimented them about it that night during dinner.
Rhaenyra decided for an extra day there for rest, even though she did took a longer walk in the village as well as the woods around Antlers, where they spotted a large group of red stags with many sporting big antlers, the reason behind the place’s name and House Buckwell coat of arms.
Her retinue left the next morning first while she would leave during the afternoon. From Antlers to Harrenhal was a day of traveling which Rhaenyra would divide the time between traveling on air and on the ground. During break fast that morning she spoke with Lady Buckwell about sending one of her sons to train and squire in the capital as well as perhaps taking her daughter as lady-in-waiting, the latter the Lady did not seem agreeable to.
Rhaenyra said her thanks and farewell to the family, receiving a gift of a hand knitted shawl from the Buckwell girl in the colors of House Targaryen and a dragon figurine from the youngest son that was made of antler bone. Then she was up in the sky again with Syrax heading to the Riverlands at last.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Vaegon Targaryen observes the bustling of Oldtown from the window of his chambers at the Citadel, twirling his Targaryen signet ring around his middle finger. It has been years since the last time he took the ring out of the small drawer where he kept a few trinkets from home. Although maesters are supposed to shed themselves of their family name and ties, as a Targaryen prince he was able to twist that rule a little.
‘Not enough to change fuck all for my family.’ Vaegon thinks bitterly, a sour expression twisting his fine features.
The order of maesters had been a great ideal when he was growing up, something wonderful in theory and in practice as well, at least for the first few years of his time in the Citadel. It had been the perfect plan, the perfect way for him to get away from all the expected duties of a prince of the blood, of a man.
While his brothers were robust and strong and handsome, excelling in the training yard, the blood of the dragon running thick in their veins, Vaegon was all slim and weak limbs, could not hold a sword to save his life and would rather spent hours reading books. He did not even feel any desires for claiming a dragon like most of his siblings.
With all his time dedicated to studying, of course Vaegon could still have remained in court, become an advisor for his father and Aemon, maybe even a member of the Small Council. However that would require him to marry a woman, maybe one of his sisters which was the last thing he wanted. So it was with relief and joy he stepped foot in the ship bound to take him to Oldtown and the Citadel.
Everything was great there and more than exceeded his dreams in the first five years or so. Not even Daella’s death made him regret the choice at first, something callous he knew but then he always has been a callous sibling. But then Alyssa died of childbirth at the same time he had been showing interest in studying deeper the arcane arts and higher mysteries.
That is when he first started to notice little odd things in the maesters behaviour, especially regarding his family. Vaegon might not been the warmest of brothers to his sisters, always loving his brothers more, but he still loved his sisters all the same and he was deeply offended and hurt when overhearing a maester and archmaester commenting how Alyssa’s death and the death of her third son was to be expected.
He first chalk it up to them thinking she was more like Daella and other Targaryen women than like Alysanne but when he reached out to Baelon and found his third son had not even died yet, Vaegon became wary. Then when the boy did die a suspicion took root in his mind even if he tried to fight and pretend it was nothing.
Vaegon got fully distracted from all of that when old maesters and archmaesters started trying to stir him away from the arcane arts he had always been interested in, the old books and scrolls in the Red Keep and Dragonstone about the subject were the most fascinating readings he ever had. Their attempt in getting him away from the arcane and related ‘mysterious’ subjects opened his eyes to how many in the order viewed such topic.
And how they viewed Valyrians and consequently the Targaryens, how they abhorred his family unnatural connection with dragons, and just dragons as a whole, how they abhorred the thought of all the supposed magic that happened in Old Valyria; and also the accounts of magic in the old days of the First Men up in the North.
It was a discomfited discovery to do. Especially since Vaegon knew how many books and scrolls and accounts the Citadel library held about it all, he also knew – through a very trustworthy source – that deep in the vaults under the building laid the remains of a giant human, other northern giant beasts such as ice spiders and hellhounds. He knew for sure from diaries he read in the Red Keep that the Citadel received the full size remain of one of the dragons Aenar Targaryen brought from Valyria, a gift from Aegon I himself. Vaegon even heard whispers that there was remains of what might have been a true living Griffin.
So at the time he could truly not understand how come so many maesters not just frowned upon these things but abhorred and made some of these subjects to be all just children’s tales and nothing more. Despite still going on to study the higher mysteries, arcane arts and alchemy, even becoming an archmaester of the subjects, Vaegon was never allowed inside the vaults that held those historic magical remains or allowed to teach the subjects as he should have been.
He pretended to believe the Conclave excuses for that of course but discreetly and secretly became great friends with one of the two archmaesters of the subjects that were allowed inside the vaults who fed him the information about what the Citadel hide in there.
Still, despite it all, he remained hopeful this was all some wild coincidence, that maybe he was been too paranoid as he always had been since childhood. That perhaps he inherited some of the Targaryens madness. That delusional world he fervently held on to in an attempt not to regret this life choice came crashing down when his last living brother died.
It had been hard enough to lose Aemon, the brother he loved the most, and all his other siblings, a cut in his heart that lingered and hurt to this very day, what made him became more and more distant from his family, rarely sending any letters.
However, deep inside he still felt somewhat whole with the knowledge Baelon and Saera still lived, that he was not the last one, the only one. And Baelon’s death might have impacted him the same way all others did except for the odd circumstances surrounding it he stumbled upon.
Although trying to chalk all the suspicions as coincidence and nothing more, Vaegon still gathered trustworthy friends around the Citadel to keep their eyes and hears open, to deliver anything interesting to him in secret. He did grow up and learned at the knees of Jaehaerys and Alysanne after all, two people that were as shrewd as they were bad parents.
The raven with the letter from his father telling about Baelon being sick and bedridden arrived to him on the third day of his brother’s affliction, his father sounded really concerned although no one seemed to know what was afflicting Baelon and how sick he quickly became. That was enough to make Vaegon worried and almost panicked. Then hours later a maester surreptitiously slid a scroll into his robe when they passed each other in a corridor.
The scroll was written by Grandmaester Rucinter, when exactly that letter arrived at the Citadel Vaegon could not know, but in it the Grandmaester requested advice over some concoctions to use in Prince Baelon’s treatment. Healing and the make of medicines was not his field of expertise but Vaegon knew enough to know those specific concoctions were not appropriate for the cure or lessening of stomach illnesses, in some cases could actually worsen things.
His father did not specify what exactly Baelon had nor his symptoms so Vaegon had not known it was anything relating to the stomach at the time. Then three days later he received a new letter from his father with news of his brother’s death from a burst belly which finally made the blinders around his eyes to fall.
Burst belly had no cure and would always end in death but maesters were taught ways to ease the pain and make the person’s death “kinder”, thereof Vaegon could not fathom why was the Grandmaester treating his brother’s supposed burst belly with medicine which would only make it worse and twice more painful. Moreover, how come as far as he knew there was no symptoms before Baelon even fell ill?
Unless of course they were poisoning his brother with medicine that would make it seem as if he was dying from a stomach related affliction.
Vaegon could not anymore not heed his paranoia. When the Conclave insisted in him advising his father in calling from a Great Council to decide who should be the king’s heir, it became clear to him why the maesters had not wished to see his brother become the next king. Baelon, much like Aemon, would have not bowed down to the Andal ways as much as Kings Aegon and Jaehaerys did.
For a brief time Vaegon had been thankful for his father’s habit of deciding things on his own without listening to anyone, and choosing Baelon’s oldest boy as heir instead of Rhaenys. Though he was sure Aemon raised his daughter to be a great heir and future Queen, she was now a Velaryon, her children were Velaryons not Targaryens; the Iron Throne belonged to House Targaryen and no other house.
Worse yet, King Jaehaerys never did anything that would help a woman became a ruler, a Queen Regnant. Aemon would have, Vaegon knew, but not their father.
His relief was short lived when he finally investigated about his nephews and found out that while Daemon was all Alyssa, Viserys was nothing like either of Vaegon’s siblings. Vaegon’s fire might have been just a weak flickering flame, he might prefer to hide in sheep’s clothing but he was still a dragon. Viserys seemingly was instead a sheep in dragon’s clothing; a sheep who was worriedly too close to a Hightower.
A Hightower who was just a second son. And Vaegon had no idea how Ser Otto even ended up as Hand of the King to begin with. A Hightower that remained as Hand to King Viserys, a close friend who had the king’s ears and trust while the king would go on to banish his own brother. Vaegon shuddered to think the disappointment his brothers would have felt knowing about that.
While Vaegon had no idea how Otto Hightower ended up as Hand, he did have a good idea of how close was the relation between the Citadel and the Hightowers. It would not surprise him if they did away with his brother exactly as a way to put that Otto Hightower in the position even though a large puzzle would still be missing as to the rest of the reasons. Another puzzle quickly fell into place when he heard news of how often bedridden his father was and that Otto ruled in his stead, not the actual heir and future king as it should have been.
It became clear then to Vaegon the order of maesters wanted much more saying in the ruling of the kingdoms and were willing to kill to achieve their goal. That was what he thought it was then.
However his younger niece, Queen Aemma now, who was said to be as sweet and gentle as Daella, kept losing babe after babe; only one child surviving past infancy and into childhood. Such situation could and was being explained as the girl having been bedded way too young, a plausible explanation that made Vaegon wince to know how low his parents had truly fallen in allowing something like that to happen to one of their very few grandchildren after everything they went through.
Vaegon though was not satisfied with such explanation for he still remembered overhearing maesters’ whispers about how expected it was for Princess Alyssa and her third son to die. He did not want to believe the order might be out to kill Targaryen babes, or even Valyrian babes in general, since his mother and Velaryon women were so successful in the birthing Valyrian children.
Perhaps that was exactly why now their descendants were suddenly so unsuccessful, he could not avoid reasoning. And if so, then there was another missing pieace Vaegon did not have to puzzle it all together. Until recent events, that is.
How disturbing it was to one day found out just how exactly his niece, a Queen, granddaughter to the most acclaimed King, was murdered by the orders of her own husband and cousin. Viserys ‘Targaryen’ was no son of Baelon and Alyssa, Vaegon was sure now, no matter the blood in his veins, he was not his siblings’ son. He had always thought distasteful the fact his mother held on her mother’s hand while Alyssa Velaryon was cut open for a babe too but this seemed much worse, if possible.
It was odd enough to Vaegon how the young queen seemed to be so fertile, able to easily get with child and even be successful in full term pregnancies but was more often than not miscarrying or birthing stillborns. It felt unlikely to him that that was just because she started to be impregnated too soon. Not when so quickly after her death King Viserys chose Lady Alicent, a mere second’s son daughter with little to add to the crown, as his next wife and queen.
And not just any second son’s daughter, Otto Hightower’s daughter, the men who should not even have been made Hand of the King in the first place.
Lady Alicent might bring to the table the Reach, more specifically the mighty of Oldtown, but not as much as if she was the actual Lord’s daughter and definitely not even close to what other houses could give the Crown. More specifically House Velaryon who boasted of two dragons under their yoke. Either the Small Council were all idiots who did not counsel the king properly or the king was an idiot for marrying a girl just because he fucked and impregnated her.
‘How the mighty have fallen.’ Vaegon had thought back then, a shimmering rage slowly building inside him.
He had had enough of playing blind in an attempt to uncover whatever schemes was going on in the Citadel and the Hightower; likely with the Most Devout’s blessing and he wished his sister and Rhaella were still alive to be the ears needed inside the Starry Sept. No matter what this all really meant, all that mattered to him now was that whatever this was it clearly involved the fall of House Targaryen. His house, his family.
He had assumed it would be an ugly fight with the Conclave to reach some compromise that would get him back to Kings Landing. It was at first until the order handed a perfect opportunity on a silver platter.
The Red Keep had been brimming with more acolytes and apprentices than actual maesters for whatever reason which even led a couple members of the Conclave to complain about it, whether in good faith or not. Apprentices who were found mistreating a Prince’s daughter. The new Grandmaester was doing a poor job in his new position, not reigning in said acolytes and worse allowing a bad case of missing letters and scrolls to take place.
And what bound the Conclave’s hands and made them powerless to Vaegon’s arguments and demand: Grandmaester Mellos somehow mistook a simple late moonblood for a pregnancy. A mistake that obviously led to the king’s decision in bride. All this situation in the Red Keep was no longer feasible when war had reached their shore, Vaegon argued while silently thanking his younger nephew and Lord Corlys’ bold decision.
He had hoped not all of the archmaesters in the Conclave were in on the scheme, whatever that may be, and he knew from talks beforehand that some would agree and vouch for him. And Vaegon was rewarded in this rare moment of hopeful optimism in his life when the Conclave final decision was reached.
Grandmaester Mellos would be dismissed of his position as per the king’s rightful demands. And Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen would be going back home to take his place in the Small Council.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Prince Daemon Targaryen first descended upon the Stepstones to find a group of Westerosi ships being cornered and attacked by a much larger fleet; though not a fleet even close to the huge numbers of Velaryon, Pentoshi and Volantene war galleys not far behind him and Caraxes.
Flying lower and lower Daemon quickly realized the Westerosi ships, about five of them, were just small voyage and trade ships; he spotted banners of Houses Estermont, Swann and Mertyns. They had no chance against the Triarchy galleys: one of the ships bearing House Estermont flag was more than half way sank while soon that would also be the fate of another ship with House Swann’s flag.
Closing the distance more and more, Daemon started to hear the screaming and through the bond with Caraxes he sensed the smell of blood, fear and death.
By the time the Triarchy attackers noticed a dragon swiftly descending on them, his boy knew how to be very very silent when he wanted to, it was too late. Daemon lighted the farthest ships on fire in a second, not wishing to risk the remaining Westerosi ships to be more damaged, then Caraxes started to dive closer and rip through the sails and hulls efficiently as well as pick sailors from the water just for the fun of chewing them up before spiting them out.
Dragons certainly had good memory and Daemon could easily feel the satisfaction his boy was feeling with this chance to avenge his former rider anew by killing more Myrish scum. How his dragon could even differentiate between Myrish, Lyseni and Tyroshi blood he had no clue but Caraxes could and the dragon was having fun.
Their attack was enough to make the other ships divert their attack towards him instead of fleeing, the imbeciles, and arrows were soon flying his way but Caraxes was fast in positioning his body in a flying movement that had all arrows hit his armoured chest. The distraction gave enough time for the biggest Westerosi ship, another one from House Estermont, to distance itself.
And clearly the arrival of a dragon and an armada approaching was enough to strengthen the Westerosi men inside the ships to fight harder, the screams in Common changing into chants of attack instead of despair.
Daemon made a risk move to help the one ship from house Mertyn untangle itself from a much bigger galley, it would leave him temporally exposed but he had faith his own armored body would provide the necessary protection. Caraxes descended all the way to the sea so he could use his claw to tear through the side of the Triarchy ship, pulling half of it away all destroyed.
Arrows zoomed close to Daemon’s head from the ships behind him, some hitting against his back but none hurting him in anyway and soon he was up in the air again, right when his own fleet closed in on the battle at last. He let the rest of the work to his men while flying around and commanding Caraxes to set ships and men on fire every now and then.
It was a quicker battle than Daemon had anticipated, less than an hour and the Triarchy ships laid destroyed and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. The armada led the only surviving Westerosi ships, the second ship of House Swann been too damaged and so the people in it passed over to one of the Volantene galleys, through the sea while he flew faster to get to the closest island first.
The island was a very small one so Caraxes only had to do a couple laps around to see if there was any pirate dens, mercenaries or Triarchy settlements but it was all a barren and desolate land. He landed Caraxes a good distance from shore and waited by his boy’s side for the ships to dock.
Though the bigger ship of House Estermont and the smaller one of House Mertyn made the trip to the shore both ships were in a truly deplorable state, certainly would not be able to sail back home so Daemon sighed imagining they would have to spare a couple of their own galleys to return these people to the Stormlands. A small sacrifice that would hopefully earn them good faith from the stormlords, enough for them to call on the favour in case they ended in dire need for more provisions.
Daemon approached once the men started to make their way to the beach in various row boats and he was thankful they arrived when they did, for in the row boats there was also a good number of women and children.
“Is the island cleared?” Corlys asked as soon as he was standing in front of Daemon, looking around warily.
“Yes.” Daemon answered before focusing his purple eyes on the people climbing out of the rest of the boats. “How many survivors?”
“Not even half the number of people they sailed from home with.” He answered with a sigh. “They were sailing to Braavos. Their head of houses like your brother thought the threat here in the Stepstones was no big deal and so they took this route instead of a longer one.”
Daemon only hummed, he could easily imagine many proud and stupid lords thinking that just because the Crown was not acknowledging the Triarchy and the Crabfeeder’s handiwork then it meant there was no threat to worry about.
A dishevelled dark-haired girl, no older than sixteen, ran towards them as soon as she climbed out of the boat and all but threw herself at Daemon’s feet.
“Thank you, Prince Daemon, thank you. You saved us, thank you, thank you.” She repeated over and over in between sobs while clinging to his legs.
Daemon’s eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline in surprise at this display, not expecting something like this to ever happen; not even the smallfolk of Kings Landing were very overt in their gratitude for his work with the Gold Cloaks. He felt discomfited by it so quickly he put a hand around one of the girl’s arms and as nicely as possible pulled her up to her feet.
“It is alright, there is nothing to thanks.” He said uncomfortably, noticing bruises starting to form on her young face and her dress torn in some places and hanging loose around her slight frame.
“There is! My prince they were killing everyone and...” Her teary eyes widening even more and she looked over her shoulder. “Oh the other girls... They... They...”
The girl did not finish her sentence, crying and sobbing again, but she did not need to; one look at some of the other girls was enough for Daemon to know exactly what happened to them.
“How long were the ships under attack?” He asked to no one in particular.
“For at least an hour before we arrived, according to some of the surviving men.” Corlys answered.
“They just started destroying the ships after looting things and forcing their way with some of the women, I heard.” Daelius added stopping at his side.
The girl sobbed even harder, hiding her face in her hands, only increasing Daemon’s discomfort. Rhaenyra and Baela were the only girls he ever bore crying from and learned how to comfort them, he had no wish to extend that good-will to anyone else.
“Well, let us get them and our men settled then.” Daemon suggested with a pointed look at the Sea Snake who seemed amused by his discomfort.
“You are taking us back home, right?” The girl snapped her eyes up, looking at him with a pleading look.
“Yes, of course.” He replied with a frown.
“Oh thank the Gods.” Her shoulders sagged in relief. “They were... They said they would take... Take us to their pillow houses.”
“You are going back home, Lady...?”
“Johanna Swann, my prince.”
“You are going back to Stonehelm soon enough, alright?” Daemon assured her with an awkward pat to her arm.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she was taken away by some Velaryon men along with the rest of the stormlanders to stay a safe distance while more men arrived at the beach and started working to settle a camp. Daemon turned his attention to his cousin once Corlys walked away to his own men instead of hovering around them.
“So how was your first taste of battle?” He asked resting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I hope you did not puke after your first kill.”
“I did not had the chance for any killing yet, cousin.” Daelius answered and then shrugged. “Even if I had it would not have been my first kill.”
Daemon arched his eyebrows in surprise, the nonchalant way his cousin said that really sounded as true.
“Oh, you will have to tell me about that some time.”
Daelius just nodded but had a far away look in his eyes while observing the women and girls who had clearly been attacked which only made Daemon more curious about the story behind his words.
There was no more time for idle talks though, Daemon was soon busy with receiving his own Volantene and Pentoshi men, then they were all occupied and preoccupied with the struggle of settling camp in such desolate place. There was no trees for some modicum of cover from the unforgiving sun, the island size could not even hold the large number of people.
They would have to make do with the tents they brought but more men than anticipated would have to stay in the ships due the unexpected addition of people. Daemon gave away his tent, a huge thing fit for a prince and leader of the campaign, to Lady Johanna and the other highborn women of Houses Estermont and Mertyns while he would share Daelius’ tent for now
Considering the unexpected situation, Daemon, Corlys and the other captains agreed it was best to send them home as fast as possible so they could move on to a bigger island; there would be no better island since all the Stepstones was nothing but dreary bare land. A bigger island would be better though to be their base for planning and main place for rest and sleep.
They were inside the tent pouring over maps and planning their next steps when a commotion outside drew their attention. ‘Would this day ever stop to have surprises?’ Daemon wondered amusedly when he stepped outside to find one of Corlys’ nephews gripping and fighting with a dirtied Laenor.
“What is the meaning of this?!” The Sea Snake exclaimed, walking to his son’s side in a second and being the one to grab the boy harshly, then he switched to High Valyrian. “What in Merling’s name are you doing here?!”
“One of the Volantene sailors found him trying to blend in with the crew below deck.” The nephew was the one to answer. “But he was too suspicious of little Laenor’s looks.”
“Do not call me that.” Laenor hissed at his cousin before looking up at his father. “I want to be a part of this, father! I’m four and one, I should be a squire by now but you and mother coddle me too much.”
“You are my heir, Laenor.” The Sea Snake retorted in aggravation. “You will not be a part of anything, you’re going back home to learn to rule the Driftwood throne if something happens to me.”
“I do not want to rule anything. I want to be a knight and fight and sail around the known world.” Laenor said and Daemon would give it his young cousin, having the balls to denounce his birthright straight to the Sea Snake’s face.
“The boy is right, you know?” Daemon said before a very enraged Corlys could say anything, seeing an opportunity in this. “Younger boys than him are squires and will no doubt go on to become young knights. As an heir and highborn nobleman, it is his right.” He continued crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow to Corlys. “Or do you wish him to be a simpering lord underserving of the driftwood throne?”
“Of course not!” Corlys replied offended and displeased by Daemon’s interruption. “But as my heir his place is in Driftmark, not here where he can very well die.”
“Not if he would to be my squire, he would not.” Daemon smirked, then looked at a wide eyed Laenor. “Certainly not if you keep close to your own dragon too, where is it?”
“I told Seasmoke to stay in High Tide but I can call him here.” Laenor quickly said, hope shining in his eyes, even though Daemon doubted the boy had a strong enough bond for that. “I can, father! And my dragon will protect me.”
“Two dragons is better than one, Corlys. Even a young and untrained one.” Daemon added.
“I agree, uncle.” Corlys’ oldest nephew, Vaemond said. “There is so much one dragon can do with these many islands for us to take control of.”
Daemon bit his tongue to avoid bristling at the man who was no dragonrider and had no clue what a dragon could or not do, especially Caraxes. He also did not like the ‘us’ in that sentence one bit. Walking closer to Corlys and his son, Daemon lowered his voice so this part only the three of them could listen.
“If Rhaenys is with child and births a son, you will have a spare then.” He whispered in High Valyrian. “Wait for any news of it before allowing Laenor anywhere near true danger but do not send him away, it will weaken him in the eyes of your crew.” Daemon convincingly explained then looked at the very interested Velaryon nephews watching them talk. “More so in the eyes of your family.”
The Sea Snake tensed immediately and looked at his nephews as well, Daemon had to fight off a smirk, something Laenor did not.
“Rhaenys will have me gelded if anything happens to Laenor.” Corlys sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “But I cannot have Laenor seen as a spoiled weakling... Vaemond will spare no words about it if I send him home.”
“He wants the driftwood throne, father, you know that.” Laenor scowled. “I have to prove my mantle.”
“Alright, alright.” Corlys sighed again before looking at Daemon, seriously. “Teach him good and protect him, Daemon, I mean it… You do not wish to have me as an enemy so be smarter than your brother.”
“Am I not always?” Daemon grinned wickedly. “Send word to Rhaenys, she must be in a state by now. She will know what to do to get Laenor’s dragon to head this way.” He said earning an offended look from Laenor but before the boy could say anything Daemon grabbed his arm and pulled him towards his tent. “Come, cousin, me armor needs to be cleaned.”
Daemon had high doubts the boy would make for a decent squire having been pampered and spoiled by his parents all this time but his determination and will to be a knight might be enough for Daemon to use to make a decent fighter out of him.
Hopefully a good dragonrider too if the boy had any hopes for his dragon not to be fell out of the sky. Caraxes could sustain a dozen hundreds of arrows thrown his way, especially with the valyrian steel armour, a dragon as young as Seasmoke did not have scales hardened enough for that.
If everything went right and the boy did not get himself killed, then Daemon would have another Velaryon kid’s gratitude. He had not planned to make Laena own a debt to him, certainly not one because of what was happening to her but since the fates decided so he was grateful for the chance.
Daemon, and consequently Rhaenyra, could not trust either Rhaenys or Corlys but if they were to make their children loyal to them not their parents then maybe they could avoid any troubles in the future. All Daemon needed to do was be a better male figure for Laenor than the Sea Snake for a hero could be more worshiped and respected than a father sometimes
And perhaps this would be good training for him for when Baela was old enough to start learning the sword and for when Daemon had sons of his own.
Daemon had no plans to forbid swordplay to his girl if she wished to be Visenya reborn, Dark Sister was made for the hands of a woman after all; he could pass it over to her while Blackfyre would fall in the hands of Rhaenyra’s son. In the hands of their son.
It would be years from now but Daemon had all the intentions to plan well ahead to ensure his family’s success; there was no longer time to be his idle reckless self. House Targaryen safety was in his hands.
Notes:
And the Stepstones war has officially started!! First win goes to Daemon 😌
Ik Johanna Swann went on to became basically Lys' ruler but the road there as a fifteen yo highborn lady enslaved for sex work must not have been easy at all so I decided to change her fate!!
On that note, I would also assume Saera’s life working in pleasure houses too certainly wasn’t all rainbows, she must have experienced at some point the same horrifying things most women in this line of work in this universe/period go through even if she was a princess once upon a time 🤷🏾♀️ so I’ll be exploring a bit of that later onAnd about Targaryen siblings... Vaegon has arrived to be the leading investigator of the maesters' conspiracy now that they got too confident but also too sloppy 😉Im honestly not entirely sure how exactly I'm going to play and expand this bold storyline out but oh well I'll be trying something 😅
This chapter was supposed to be about the rest of the crownlands and some of the riverlands tour but I got too carried away in the Duskendale part and wrote more than initially planned, so the other crownland houses had to be a bit rushed 🤭
I suck with choosing names so I'll only be naming the already canon characters with names or the characters that will have some level of importance to either babe Rhae or Daemon storylines. Sorry if there's too much hes&shes repeated because of tha!!Rhaenyra is being too bold with her offers and promises to these houses but this is the Crown's main "seat" so she wants to make sure they're fully on her side, and test her political mantle, before she goes on to attempt winning the other regions 😌
Next up: the Riverlands, Vaegon shaking things up in the Red Keep w his arrival, more Stepstones and maybe some of the Vale part 🤗Characters' ages:
Daemon - 25
Rhaenyra - 9
Saera - 39
Shaena - 17
Daelius - 19
Laenor - 14
Corlys - 51
Vaegon - 43
Amanda - 34Useful links for this chapter and the fic if you're interested:
To see more of the families - https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/ficvisuals/chapter-28/
https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
Rhaenyra's first feast outfit - https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/rhaenyra-targaryen/outfit-chapter-28/Leave kudos&comments to let me know if you liked this chapter, it's very welcomed and appreciated 🥹
See you in the next one 🥰❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 30: Chapter Twenty-Nine: 106 AC Part XIV
Notes:
Heeelloooouu readers 🥰
Here's a new big chapter w lots of things happening! Again I got too carried away with a single part of Rhaenyra's tour and did not write half of the things I had initially planned for this chapter 🤡 hopefully on the next one!There is a tourney and knighthood ceremony here that I took from canon what I know and mixed with my own spins. As well as some 'made up' background about a few houses. So mind the inaccuracies 😅
Also be mindful of a full Alicent’s pov with her commendable mind acrobatics, a TW more like really, and her true colors lightly shining through!!
TW for real though: Alluded con non-con, sort of, and brief mention/reference about V&A sex life 🤢 but nothing too graphicAnd just to set you guys on the timeline: The Stepstones part from the previous chapter and the part from this one happens before Rhaenyra's tour started. Alicent & Laena's pov here happens concurrently with the tour
Now, enough with the little spoilers 🤭
High Valyrian = bold-italic
English is not my mother language so I apologize for any mistakes!Btw, we're approaching this story's 1 year anniversary 🤯 And gods be good I'm not even half way through it 😂 But thank you all for getting me this far with your kudos and comments ❣️
Fingers crossed I can publish one or two new chapters until the fic 'bday'!!Have a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Daemon watched from a good distance Lord Corlys and his men help their unexpected guests board the two ships they would spare to send them home, it would be on the smallest of the Velaryon ships considering the low number of survivors; both Corlys and he agreed their help would be even better received if delivered by fellow Westerosi instead of Daemon’s very mixed army.
Caraxes was patrolling the sky for now but once the ships set sail, the two of them would follow the ships until they were far enough out of reach in safe waters. As far as the scouts they sent to the other occupied islands had observed, the little island they had occupied would be safer long enough for Daemon to do the relatively short trip.
Lady Johanna, who had been quite helpful in looking after both her retinue and helping a little with the rest of the army, looked over his way and he gestured with his head for her to come over.
For the last two sleepless nights Daemon had time to ponder over many things, including how Lady Johanna and the other three highborn girls were unlikely to be actually believed they had not been “spoiled” as the rest of the surviving women had. He knew Westerosi ways enough to know the girls would be forever tainted even if they had had the luck not to be raped.
That led Daemon to think that maybe if Lady Johanna or the Mertyns sisters or the Estermont girl were to be too harshly shunned by their families and unable to have their normal lives of highborn ladies back, then if they wished Daemon could arrange shelter for them with a very famous shunned princess. He might have given Mysaria a second chance but if she were stupid enough to step out of line then her budding business would be short a leader.
Saera had her own business and life in Volantis so Daemon would need someone else in case he was forced to take over Mysaria’s blooming dirty empire of secrets but his aunt could still teach the ways to this someone if needed. Or simply help the girls build new lives.
“Prince Daemon.” Lady Johanna greeted with a tentative smile though Daemon could see the lingering shadow in her light eyes; as all the other women she was dresses in borrowed tunics and breeches from the men. “I know you asked me to stop thanking you but it does not feel enough yet how grateful I am.” She said crossing her arms and looking away. “Those men, some of them spoke the common tongue enough for us to understand their plans…”
“What were their plans?” He asked, beyond that first day neither she or the other survivors touched on the particular specifics.
“The maids and young men that they…” The girl swallowed and was unable to say the words. “They were going to just take them to their brothels but they thought they could gain more with us noble born… They thought they could ransom our freedom.” Johanna explained still not looking at the prince, almost curling in on herself for what she would reveal next. “The other girls, their fathers would pay to get them back I’m sure… But my uncle… Lord Swann is a stingy man.”
“Do you think your uncle would just let that scum take you away to be sold you off, abused and raped?” Daemon asked in disbelief, if it was Rhaenyra he would have burned the whole world to get her back.
“I know he would.” She answered looking up, no doubts in her eyes. “The only reason he even accepted this trip in the first place was because the Mertyns were the ones putting the biggest payment... And because he hopes to marry my cousin off to the widowed Lord Estermont.” She explained dropping her arms to her sides. “I had hoped to find a match soon to leave Stonehelm but now… They will never believe us unspoiled, will they?”
“Not everyone, no.” He answered sincerely. “It is what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. If things get too bad and you need a way out…” Daemon passed a dirtied slip of paper to her. “Reach out to one of these two people and they will get in contact with me.”
“For a way out?” She questioned reading the names and her eyes went wide when she saw Princesses Rhaenyra and Rhaenys names on it. “My Prince, I do not understand…”
“If you were to not wish for life in Westeros anymore, if your family kicks you out… I know someone who would take you in.” He explained as best as possible without revealing too much. “She would help you with a brand new life if you so desire, for your friends and maids too. But if it’s a life still in Westeros you would want then she can teach you the way you could repay your debt.”
“If it was a new life… Then how would we repay this debt?” Johanna asked, life under the yoke of Lord Swann had taught her how to be astute as much as wary.
“In that case there would be no debt to pay.” Daemon replied just as sincerely. “Now come, my lady, it is time to go home.”
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Rhaenyra gasped as soon as she sighted the immense monstrosity that was Harrenhal, even with its melted towers and half destroyed castle, it was easy to imagine how it used to be when Harren Hoare ordered it build.
She was sad to be on the ground instead of seeing the castle from up in the sky, the same view Aegon the Dragon had when he commanded Balerion to burn it down, Rhaenyra wanted to know if she could feel some of what the Conqueror had felt that day. It was almost night when they finally arrived so that would have to wait, especially since Syrax alighted and vanished somewhere inside the castle’s ground.
Lord Lyonel’s wife, Lady Sally, was waiting for them in the main gate with her two daughters, Lucile and little Cora, her stepson Ser Harwin and another six people all wearing the colors and sigil of House Strong; for the first time Rhaenyra saw the knight donning formal clothes instead of armor though he still kept his golden cloak on his shoulders. There was also a group of servants behind the family.
“Welcome to Harrenhal, Princess Rhaenyra.” Lady Sally greeted with a bow. “I hope the travel went well and without troubles?”
“Yes, Lady Sally, thank you.” Rhaenyra answered smiling at them before asking. “Would any of you happen to know where my Syrax has descended to?”
“That would be the Godswood, my Princess.” Ser Harwin answered, having watched the dragon flew straight in that direction. “It is spacious enough to house at least two dragons so she should be comfortable there.”
“Oh good then.” She smiled in relief but still motioned to the dragonkeepers. “Make sure my Lady is well settled.”
The four keepers bowed to her and followed a servant towards where the Godswood was.
“Let me introduce you the rest of our family.” Lady Sally said. “This here is Ser Simon, my husband’s uncle and his wife. He manages Harrenhal while Lyonel is in the capital.” She said gesturing to the older man and woman, the two bowing in greeting. “This is Ser Simon’s son, Ser Bywin, his wife and sons.”
“Well met, Sers, my ladies.” Rhaenyra greeted with a respectful nod.
“Come now, we will show you all to your rooms.” Lady Sally smiled and guided them inside the huge castle, the group of servants quickly going to their own retinue of servants. “There is time for you all to have a bath and a little rest before dinner, I got it all prepared in your rooms. You will be staying with us in the Kingspyre Tower, Ser Simon will take the rest of your group to the Widow’s Tower. We mostly use these two towers since they are connected.” She explained while they walked through the castle, the inside was as immense as it looked from the outside, their steps and voices echoing. “Dinner tonight will be a simple affair, with only us and the few families that have arrived. I have plan for the feasts to commence tomorrow night after the other houses are set to arrive.”
“What families and houses will be attending?” Aunt Amanda asked.
“Ser Oswald Wode and his family are here already, the Groves and Butterwells too, their lands are nearby and all three houses are sworn directly to us.” Lady Sally answered. “The Rootes from Harroway have also arrived. The Hawicks and Cox from the Saltpans, as well as the Mootons, Smallwoods and Deddings will be arriving tomorrow at the latest.”
“That is a good number of houses to attend a short tourney.” Amanda said in approval.
“The Blackwoods and the Brackens wanted to come too, no doubt eager to compete against each other.” Lady Sally said with a shake of the head. “But Lord Grover thought best to just choose one or the other to go to Riverrun for your stay there, Princess.”
“Wouldn’t that cause offense to whoever is not picked?” Rhaenyra questioned with a frown at Lord Tully’s decision.
“Lord Grover’s way of dealing with the Brackens and Blackwoods causes more trouble than solves them, father always says.” Lucile was the one to comment.
“No matter the offense to the houses, is an insult that Lord Grover decided such thing without my niece’s input.” Amanda scowled angrily.
“Simon or I would have warned the princess about it but Lord Grover’s letter arrived here only two days ago.” Lady Sally said apologetic despite not being at fault.
“Even without them, there will still be plenty of knights to compete.” Ser Harwin, who had followed them while his great-uncle took the other Vale nobles of their retinue to the Widow’s Tower, said in an attempt to diffuse the tenseness. “We have many household knights and we also house just as many hedge or landless knights.”
“My great-grandfather, the Old King, was the one to give the idea of having as many knights and families in the service of Harrenhal as a way to keep the castle running.” Rhaenyra said, more to her aunt, cousins and Lady Samya than the Strongs themselves, with a prideful look in showing her knowledge.
“Just right, my Princess.” Ser Harwin nodded.
“It was a good idea, indeed. Though still an arduous work and expensive to maintain this huge monster, with the number of people living and working here we now are able to use all four towers.” Lady Sally said. “The Tower of Ghosts is the only one we don’t use, it’s too ruined to be safe.”
Lady Sally and her daughters led Rhaenyra, her aunt and cousins to the apartments they would be staying in, and Ser Harwin took the Kingsguard and some of the highest rank Targaryen guards to where they would stay in chambers just a short distance from the princess’s apartments. Ser Steffon stayed with her while ordering Ser Criston and Ser Erryk to go rest for the night.
Rhaenyra lazed in the solar of her chambers with her cousin Amara, Lucile and Samya while Nayele and Tilda readied her bath and clothes for that night’s dinner. Lucile told them of the schedule for the tourney, the feasts and competitions, as well as a little more about the Houses that would attend.
Amara and Samya then left to the chambers they were going to share, as well as Lucile for her own rooms, to get ready too.
Rhaenyra spent a little longer in the bath, enjoying the water soothing her sore muscles from all the hours on the air and on the ground traveling. Tilda helped her into the dress and slippers before she sat down so Nayele could brush and braid her silver-gold tresses; simple moments like this was when Rhaenyra more felt and mourned the loss of her maid Anora.
Once ready Rhaenyra left the chambers, meeting with her cousins, aunt and Lady Samya outside. One of Harrenhal’s guards had been sent to their floor to wait there so he would take them to where diner would be, in the Hunter’s Hall, a smaller hall in the castle though almost the same size as the Red Keep’s throne room.
After a short quick speech of welcoming by both Lady Sally and Rhaenyra, the houses and families came to their table to introduce themselves.
Ser Oswald Wode came first, along with his wife and children, the house of landed knights had a keep and lands nearby Sow’s Horn in the border with the Crownlands. Next came Lord Butterwell with his family, richly dressed to show their known wealth, though they did own extensive lands they only have a modest holdfast, Briarwhite located south of the Gods Eye as Lady Sally explained to her.
Lord Roote of Harroway town and his family were next, since the lord had come to the tourney Amanda suggested a small change in their itinerary which Rhaenyra and Lord Roote agreed with. Instead of visiting Harroway town for last, they would accompany Lord Roote there first.
House Groves were the last ones, also a house of landed knights, their lands were near Harrentown but they did not own any keep so they lived in Harrenhal castle. Rhaenyra was also introduced to a few other houses of landed knights that lived within Harrenhal as well as a family of hedge knights, the Lothstons, and a family of landless knights, the Whents.
When introductions were done dinner was finally served, four courses and desert. Thankfully dinner did not extend much after dessert was served since Rhaenyra and her people were in dire need of some proper rest, and the first day of tourney would start early the next morning.
Rhaenyra had a restful sleep despite the eerie sounds made by the strong winds outside, she was much too tired to mind that.
The next day breakfast was also served in the Hunter’s Hall. Rhaenyra got to meet the members of House Deddings who had arrived before dawn that day: Lord Deddings, his wife, his son Lyonel and young grandchildren, Darla and Davos. The houses from the Saltpans had just arrived some time before breakfast so Rhaenyra was also introduced to Lady Cox and her three children, Lord Cox had been too sick to make the journey, and Lord Hawick with his family.
Even though the Mootons and Smallwoods had not arrived yet, the schedule would stay the same so after breakfast was finished everyone made to the bear pit where the tourney competitions would be held; the pit was big enough to comfortably accommodate all the family members who would not be competing. There were three tiers of benches on each side of the round pit and were spacious enough that all the nobles were able to sit in only one side while a few men-at-arms, aged knights and servants sat on the benches of the other side.
Again both she and Lady Sally made a short speech, Rhaenyra thanked everyone presente before proclaiming the tourney’s start.
The first competition was not really a contest but just the younger squires or young boys wishing to become squires presenting their skills in fights with training swords and lances, and also in a false melee.
After they finished a troupe of mummers came in to perform the play The Conqueror’s Two Wives. Though the play reflected the Westerosi assumption that Visenya and Rhaenys had a rivalry over their brother’s affection, Rhaenyra and her family knew there had been no such thing. It was still a funny play to watch nonetheless.
Next there was the first real competition, the archery contest. The younger and older squires would compete against each other, and some of the knights would also participate to compete against each other. It was not a contest as exciting as a melee or joust but still nice to watch and cheer; both her cousin Amara and Samya were sulking a bit since aunt Amanda did not allow them to enter since no other girls were participating.
Rhaenyra cheered and clapped loudly when her cousin Adrian, one of the oldest squires competing, won the contest fairly easy; despite her sulking Amara did clap and looked proudly at her brother.
Sometime during it all, a servant informed them that the Smallwoods and also the Goodbrooks were settling in the castle, and that a knight from house Mooton had come ahead of the family to inform that they would only arrive that night, which caused them to worry over the odd delay.
When they went back to the castle that afternoon for a meal Rhaenyra talked with the Mooton’s knight and got him to reveal the reason for their delay, apparently Lord Jonah did not leave Maidenpool on time due some trade issues in the port caused by what the commonfolk and sailors had recently dubbed the War for the Stepstones. It was no surprise to Rhaenyra by now people were starting to be aware of her uncle’s campaign.
She had to bite her tongue though not to question the knight more for news since being on the road made impossible for her to receive any news of how Uncle Daemon was faring so far. She would wait for Lord Mooton to really probe for any information.
During the afternoon meal Rhaenyra met Lord Joseth Smallwood of Acorn Hall and his family, House Smallwood was sworn directly to House Vance of Wayfarer’s Rest and came in the place of their bedridden overlord at the request of said lord’s heir, Tristan Vance.
Lord Joseth brought a small sack of acorns for her so she could plant an oak tree in the Red Keep garden, declaring their oaks and acorns the best in Westeros; Rhaenyra did not even know if the garden had a good soil for an oak tree but she enthusiastically thanked him all the same.
Rhaenyra also met the Goodbrooks who lived near Acorn Hall and were another house sworn to the Vances, the young Lady Goodbrook confided to Rhaenyra that she asked to accompany Lord Joseth so she could personally thank the princess and ask her to pass her gratitude to the king. The young lady had despite the odds be able to became regent for her young brother when their father recently passed, all thanks to King Viserys decision to make the princess’ his heir and Lord Tristan’s sensible judgment.
It warmed Rhaenyra’s heart to see such change this soon into her position as heir and made her hopeful that she just might be able to accomplish a new order of things once she was Queen. Though her aunt Amanda cautioned her not to have too many expectations and hopes just yet, to focus on taking baby steps first.
After the afternoon meal they went back to the bear pit for the next contest. It was supposed to be the melee between the older squires and the first bout of the melee with the actual knights but since the Mootons had not arrived, there would only be the former. There was a good number of older squires, ranging from the ages of fourteen to seventeen, and they were pretty good as far as Rhaenyra knowledge went; even the youngests of fourteen put up a good fight.
To her and her family’s pride Adrian was the best fighter despite being quite lean compared to some of the other young men, and by the end it was down to him, a Lothston’s squire and one of Ser Simon’s grandsons. Half way through the fight, the Strong and Lothston boys tried to gang up on Adrian but her cousin did not waver and swiftly knocked down one after the other.
Rhaenyra looked at Ser Steffon, after a silent exchange between them the kingsguard gave her a grin and a nod making Rhaenyra smile widely, she stood up and approached the railing.
“Congratulations, cousin.” She said with a smile when the arena fell silent. “You have proven today the famous skills of the Valemen true by winning both competitions with grace and great talent.”
“Thank you, my Princess.” Adrian said with a smile of his own and a bow of the head.
“Your squiring years have passed so as a reward for your win, I wish to give you the opportunity to also win your knighthood.” Rhaenyra said causing people to start murmuring, this was not at all a common occurrence, so she quickly added. “Now, to avoid any bias considering our close relation, I suggest another test... If you wish to be a knight by dusk today, then you shall go through a harder test.”
She had not planned any of this, only once briefly mentioning to Ser Steffon the possibility of sometime soon knighting her cousin, but upon Ser Steffon accordance Rhaenyra was fast in coming up with a way to make sure her cousin’s knighthood had no taints on it. People might still view it as planned but at least they could not really say Adrian did not deserve his knighthood.
“What test, cousin?” Adrian asked, by the glint in his eyes she could tell he would accept whatever was thrown at him.
“Well, I am not qualified for such things so King Viserys’ kingsguard, Ser Steffon will take charge from here.” She answered and looked at Ser Steffon who soon walked to her side, his two sworn brothers watching it all unfold with amusement.
“Now you have put me in quite the spot, my Princess.” Ser Steffon said in a low tone to her.
Rhaenyra simply smiled innocently at him before going back to her seat, she caught a few of the people giving slight nods of approval.
“If you accept this final test, Lord Adrian, then you would fight against a Kingsguard.” Ser Steffon said making the murmuring go louder, her poor aunt took on a sharp breath beside her but Adrian did not waver.
“I accept.” Adrian said without hesitation.
“It would be unfair to make you fight me, lad so you will fight one of my Swornbrothers. If you hadn’t spent the day competing I would have put you to fight both though.” Ser Steffon said in a jesting tone eliciting amused snickers from some of the knights present. “You will fight against Ser Erryk while Ser Criston and I, as well as my fellow knights will be the judges. Choose your preferable weapon.”
“Live steel or just blunted one?” Adrian questioned eying Ser Erryk descend to the pit’s arena.
“Whatever is your preference.” Ser Steffon answered with a smirk, then went down to the arena too along with Ser Criston.
Amanda cursed under her breath when her son chose live steel sword, a knight from their Vale retinue rushed down to give one to him, but was not surprised by it. Adrian’s greatest dream was always to be a knight so from the moment Rhaenyra said those words Amanda knew her boy would do anything if it meant he could finally be a knight.
“No holding back, either of you, all the knights here will know if you do.” Rhaenyra heard Ser Steffon said from the arena, said knights murmuring in agreement. “No maiming or seriously injuring or killing each other, anything else is valid. You have three chances, Lord Redfort, hold your ground long enough to last all three or win at least one and you become a knight.” The kingsguard explained the rules he had to come up with on the go. “In your positions… Begin!”
Rhaenyra regretted her decision as soon as Ser Erryk viciously advanced on her cousin. Although the Cargyll twins were the youngest Kingsguard before Ser Criston entered the order, they counted almost thirty namedays and had earned their cloaks after valiantly battling and defeating a big group of foul bandits attacking the smaller villages around the Crownlands with only another four knights some years prior.
Still her cousin persevered and held his ground for over 20 minutes before Ser Erryk knocked him to the ground. And thankfully no blood was spilled. Rhaenyra cursed herself for thinking too early when in the next round Ser Erryk’s blade nicked Adrian’s cheek but that seemed only to anger her cousin who was able to hit Ser Erryk in the face with the pommel of his sword making the knight’s nose start bleeding. Whether because of his hurt nose or just Adrian’s confidence Rhaenyra could not know but the second round was a draw.
Just before the third round began Lady Sally sent for the castle’s septon. Despite being knocked down again by Ser Erryk on the third round, Adrian laughed from the ground before standing up with a big smile, people clapping and cheering for him.
“Should we make a man out of him or not?” Ser Steffon asked jokingly to the knights.
Rhaenyra, her cousin, Lucile and Samya giggled at the knights shouting following in on the joke, aunt Amanda shook her head uttering a disapproving “men”.
“Jokes aside, lad, you did earn you knighthood.” Ser Steffon said standing in front of Adrian. “It is not every green boy who can stand so well against a knight of the Kingsguard, one tested in real combat at that. Congratulations.”
Rhaenyra watched her cousin kneel before Ser Steffon and the septon, though she had to fight a roll of her eyes when the septon started the anointment in the name of the Seven she was still happy to see Adrian have his dream come true. After the septon finished his part, Ser Steffon unsheathed his greatsword and rested it on her cousin’s right shoulder.
“Adrian of Houses Redfort and Arryn, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, your king and his heir, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?” Ser Steffon asked the knightly vows, his addition of the heir part, of her, made Rhaenyra’s eyes sting with tears.
“I swear it.” Adrian answered with a clear voice, head bowed, and so Ser Steffon moved the sword over her cousin’s head to his left shoulder.
“Then rise, Ser Adrian Redfort.”
The clapping was subdued for the sake of the solemn ceremony but Rhaenyra could feel the vibrancy in the air this display brought; she heard her aunt sniffle from beside her so she leaned into the older Arryn in a side hug.
“Thank you, my darling.” Amanda said resting a hand on her niece’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.
“Anything for my family, aunt.” Rhaenyra whispered just loud enough for her aunt to hear, genuinely for that was a lesson well learned from an early age from her Uncle Daemon.
This was only a small gesture but Rhaenyra knew she could and would be capable of much more, bad or good, for her family. Today or years from now, Rhaenyra would be capable of anything to love and protect those she cared about.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Alicent stood in front of her mirror, a gold ornate gaud thing as tall as her that her aunt’s family, the Redwynes, sent over as a gift. Her previously scarce chambers were slowly filling in with many new furniture and decorations, all commissioned by her father or their relatives and friends in the Reach.
Now her chambers truly looked like the Queen’s Chambers and soon she would have a household worth of her position as queen too.
“I do not know about this… Dress, Astrid.” Alicent said looking over at her younger sister through the mirror while Astrid not so gently pulled on the dress’s corset to lace it. “It is too revealing. And the color. What if people think of me as…”
Alicent could not say the word she had been forced to hear for days and weeks since her engagement and marriage to King Viserys, thankfully it was starting to die down but she still received looks that did not need any words said for her to understand. Her sister had no qualms about giving voice to Alicent’s fears.
“They already think you a whore.” Astrid said giving a specially rough pull on the corset making her sister gasp in pain from how tight it got, she looked up at Alicent and smiled maliciously. “It is time, dear sister, for them to view you as a useful whore… Just as father wants it.”
“Must you be this foul mouthed?” Alicent hissed at her, always indignant at the way her sister so blatantly spoke and behaved as if a sailor instead of a highborn lady.
She said nothing against Astrid accusation of their father though, these days Alicent rarely saw the point in trying to correct Astrid or defend their father regarding that particular ugly truth. It was thanks to her father incessant nagging and ‘encouragement’ that Alicent has been laying with the king on an almost daily basis, be it day or night she had to go to the king’s bed.
She was constantly sore and even in pain sometimes, especially in her lower body, but thankfully one of her maids, Jolene, has proven more useful than all the others. The young maidservant always had the right teas to calm her nerves for before and after her visits to King Viserys, as well as soothing creams and bathing oils. Jolene has also been a comforting presence, the only one really, and a loyal hear to listen to Alicent without no judgments and more importantly without passing any information to the Lord Hand.
“That is just the influence of years living with Ormund.” Astrid commented with a shrug after a long moment of silence.
“If our cousin is like that then uncle should…”
“Uncle is a pile of horse dung that our poor aunt is shackled to and has to tirelessly work to make sure he does not embarrass the family every two minutes.” Astrid retorted rolling her eyes at her sisters unending naive idiocies. “Why do you think father hates his guts and his firstborn son privileges so much, Alicent?”
“Father does not…” Alicent started saying in a unconscious impulse but was quick to refrain herself. “You should not be this ungrateful, Astrid, uncle housed you for all these years.”
“Aunt Lynesse housed me.” Astrid corrected, giving a last harsh pull to the corset before quickly starting to tie the laces. “And only because she is a bitter and barren woman who envied our mother’s fertility… Mother had us. Aunt always wanted to have daughters but only ever had one son.”
“She should be glad to have done her duty then.” Alicent huffed in annoyance at another reminder her uncle’s wife was not entirely the proper lady she thought she was. “If she hadn’t uncle would be in the same precarious situation as King Viserys.”
“Should you not think of King Viserys as husband after so incessantly sharing his bed, sister?” Astrid gave another malicious grin through the mirror before walking off to seat on one of the day beds.
“That is simply my duty as his wife, to share his bed and birth his children.” Alicent replied in a monotone almost dead voice, eyes scanning the dress her sister suggested she wear for that night’s dinner and she scowled at how much skin was on display, how it indecently hugged her body.
“Children you and father can use to achieve your ambitions, how very noble.” Astrid chirped sarcastically, leaning backwards on her hands and tilting her head to the side.
“You do not know what you speak of, Astrid!” Alicent turned around in a flash, now truly angered at her sister. “You do not understand. We are doing our duty to our family and the realm as the Gods demanded of us generations ago.” She said the little she could to make Astrid open her eyes, she was glad though that only her and Gwayne had been somewhat appraised of their holy mission. “And I have sacrificed everything to fulfil my purpose in this.”
“No, Alicent, you sacrificed nothing.” Astrid rolled her eyes again, it was tiring to witness her sister be the combined worst parts of their parents. “Even if you had it was merely for your own desires… For the sake of being father’s good little daughter.”
“Perhaps it is time for me to help you with your desire to go back to Oldtown, sister.” Alicent sneered at Astrid, looking down at her with anger filled eyes. “After all, you are useless in doing any of what you are here for.”
“Useless you say and yet I was the only one to give you advice in how not to bore the king out of his mind following the septas ‘play dead in bed’ teachings.” Astrid bit back unbothered by Alicent pitiful nastiness, her sister had a long way to get anywhere close to the fear both their father and aunt were able to evoke in people.
Alicent almost bit her tongue in shame and anger, cheeks heating up, at Astrid’s words. It had been mortifying when her sister overheard her confess to the maid Jolene about how the king seemed to be less interested during her visits.
Instead of offering comfort or just pretend she did not even hear anything as a sister should Astrid laughed loudly before offering her ‘advice’. An advice for Alicent to not just lay on her back dead still like a corpse but to turn around and offer the king to take her dry cunt from behind. She had almost passed out at her sister’s vile words then, angrily dismissing Astrid’s advice and her presence from the room.
Yet once King Viserys’ distraction during her visits truly turned into disinterest and then refusal of her visits, Alicent found herself forced to see if her sister’s input had any merit. And it had for her horror and shame. That had been a week ago and ever since the king has happily called upon Alicent nightly, eagerly turning her on her stomach to rut in her more roughly than he ever had.
At least like that it had been easier for Alicent to imagine something different, someone, anyone different.
“How do you even know of such things?” Alicent asked shaking off the memories.
“Contrary to what father thinks, aunt Lynesse did teach me of a wife’s duties, my future duties for the good of the family.” Astrid answered fighting off a scowl at the memory of those endless hours of her aunt explicitly detailing what she ought to do to hold her future husband on a leash.
“Well, that is not what father brought you here for.” Alicent retorted looking down at her sister with disgust. “You should be grateful I haven’t said anything to him about this.”
“He would be grateful to me for making sure your cunt is full of King Viserys’ seed.”
“You already did you duty to help me dress, sister, it is time for you to go.” Alicent suggested meanly reminding her sister that she was all but another maid to her, the queen.
“Don’t be so gloomy about your duties, Alicent.” Astrid said with a mean smile of her own. “You achieved every woman’s ultimate dream… To be dined and fucked by a Targaryen dragon King.”
“Get out!” Alicent exclaimed flustering in anger now, maybe it was time to have a talk with her father about Astrid.
“No judgments, sister.” Astrid shrugged but continued to smirk. “I would have done the same if father had given me the chance.”
“Out, Astrid.” Alicent hissed the words, hand balling into fists. “Right. Now.”
Astrid stood up and looked at Alicent with even more malice, amused at how easily riled up her sister was, amused at how easily her sister lost in this little game they’ve been playing against each other. Well, that Astrid has been playing with Alicent, her naive and pious and stupid sister had no true clue about being played like a rat in the clutches of a cat.
“Who knows…” Astrid started stepping closer to her sister, smiling wider almost like a cat bearing its teeth. “If King Viserys likes Hightower cunt so much, I still might have a chance.”
Alicent’s mouth dropped, utterly appalled by her sister and unable to come up with any retort so she just watched Astrid turn around to saunter out of the room.
This was a step too far in Astrid’s behavior, Alicent closed her mouth and clenched her jaw, a vicious anger bubbling to the surface. Her sister was insinuating to take away what Alicent had so arduously gained for herself. No, Alicent would not have it, she would not let that happen.
It was her crown, her king, her fate to be Queen. Alicent would make Astrid rue the day she was born if she dared try to rob it from her. Sister or not, Alicent would do everything to keep her crown well attached to her head for she was the Seven’s chosen.
--
Alicent walked to the King’s apartments accompanied by the two castle’s knights appointed to ensure the queen’s protection; thanks to King Viserys' orders to send three Kingsguard along with the princess in her travels the remaining four had to keep guard solely of the king.
Or so the Commander, Ser Harrold, retorted when her father suggested to make one of the Kingsguard her sworn shield in a council meeting. She had to listen him rage about it for a whole meal. Alicent suspected the old man was too fond of Princess Rhaenyra after so many years as her protector, likely was one of the people offended on her behalf and consequently disliked Alicent, especially since he was one of the very few remaining witness to her clandestine visits to King Viserys.
No matter how much her father grew to dislike the knight and wished to appoint Ser Willis as replacement since the knight seemed more swayable, Ser Harrold was the Kingsguard the king was most fond of and would not take kindly to an attempt to take him out of his position. That fondness was also likely because of the knight’s years being his daughter’s sworn shield, Alicent thought bitterly.
She smiled when passing by Ser Lorent Marbrand standing guard at the king’s sleeping chamber doors and then put on a wider softer smile when she stopped in front of the king’s solar doors where Ser Harrold and Ser Arryk were standing. Her husband’s chambers she forced herself to think, despite the way Astrid went about things her sister might be right about Alicent needing to think of the king as more of a husband than simply King Viserys.
Both kingsguard bowed to her before Ser Harrold opened the door and announced her arrival for dinner.
Alicent stepped into the king’s private solar to find servants setting the table while King Viserys was standing by his Valyrian model with one of his personal attendants.
“Alicent, my dear.” Viserys greeted her with a beaming smile, pleased to see her come all beautiful to dine with him, as she thankfully has learned to make an effort. “You look splendid, dear, I liked the dress. Is it new?”
“Thank you, husband.” She said with a forced smile, bitter that Astrid had been right again. “Yes, it is a new gown. I’m happy it pleased you.”
“Come, come. Let me show you my latest acquisition while the servants finish with the table.” He gestured for her to approach him before taking the cup of something offered by his attendant and downing it in one gulp, then gave it back to the man who quickly left the room, sparing a simple nod to her on his way out.
‘A tonic to keep King Viserys healthy’ was the explanation her father gave to her when she questioned him about it after the first time she caught the attendant giving it to the king. Alicent had no chance to ask more about it though, what tonic exactly it was, since her father followed that answer with a ‘the more time he spends busy with his model and with you the longer I have to fix things while the princess is away’.
A sensible reasoning she could agree so she let the matter go, shoved all her ill feelings away and kept doing her duty.
That attendant of King Viserys was one of the many of his personal household members that the Lord Hand had working for him in true. Alicent also questioned about that once, more curious than ever as to how her father had accomplished all this, to surround the king with his people.
Otto explained that the former prince only had to build a proper household when he became the heir’s heir which was when Otto was already in the Red Keep, not in any official manner just lingering around for as long as possible. Luckily he easily gained the Prince’s favor back then and inept as Prince Viserys was it was easy to help him with his choice of personal household.
A couple of the people were members of the general Targaryen household, recommended by the then still alive Prince Baelon, so those people Otto was unable to sway to work for him but easily dismissed them once the prince died and Jaehaerys fell too deep in sickness to be of any use. King Viserys’ personal household was now made solely by Otto’s people.
Alicent wondered if perhaps she could try bring some of them to work for her instead of her father, after all she was the queen and as King Viserys’ wife his household should be under her care. Something to think more over later once she was able to properly handle her own household and the keep’s household as a queen should.
The two of them sat on the table once the servants had finished their work, each in opposite sides, and then they were being served. Dinner was a silent affair as usual, King Viserys wholly focus on his food while Alicent just nibbled on hers and tried to keep her mind calm for what would come next. Even with her maid’s calming droughts she always still got anxious enough to feel like tearing through her cuticles.
She was soon distracted though when the second course was served, having to fight a scowl of disgust watching the king gorge himself on food like a starving animal. He had always been like this, never bothering to have nor show proper table manners befitting of a man who had had a royal education his whole life.
Not even in public King Viserys cared in trying to behave better, Alicent still remembers the embarrassment it was in their wedding feast to have her newly husband eat like a beast instead of a king. Maybe it is that “dragon’s blood” in him, she wondered still only nibbling small bits of the food in her plate, something she would be sure not to let grow in their children.
The servants had just took their plates of the last course and were about to serve dessert when their peaceful dinner was interrupted by a knock.
“Come in.” Viserys called, finally swiping a napkin over his mouth.
“Your Grace.” Ser Harrold bowed after entering. “Maester Barry is here.”
“Oh, let him in.” He said with a wave of the hand.
Alicent frowned at the impropriety of the maester seeking the king this late and interrupting their dinner but she bit her tongue not to say anything and risk displeasing her husband.
“Your Graces.” Maester Barry greeted with a bow, at least him had the decency to acknowledge them both unlike the Kingsguard commander. “You bid me to come whenever there was a raven from the Princess Rhaenyra or any more pressing matters.”
“Thank the Gods old and new!” Viserys exclaimed with a big smile and gestured for the maester to approach. “Has my girl written again?”
Alicent bit the inside of her cheek harder, enough to taste blood, at the fact her time with the king was been interrupted by that impertinent princess.
The first time Princess Rhaenyra deemed necessary to finally send a letter to the king, from Duskendale, Alicent had to spend two whole days listening to her husband talk of nothing else but his daughter. About both his daughter’s letter and the letters from Lords Rosby, Darklyn and Stauton gushing praises about the princess.
“Indeed, my King.” Maester Barry said, pulling three letter from inside his robes. “The princess sent a letter from Antlers and there is also a letter from Lady Buckwell… I was going to deliver it to you on the morrow but just now a raven from the Citadel arrived.” He explained putting all three letters on the table beside the king. “It bears both the Conclave’s seal and the Targaryen’s.”
Alicent bit her lip next in nervousness, clutching tightly at the spoon in her hand, and watched King Viserys frown looking at said letter carrying his family’s seal. She knew how this matter was the most worrying one for their plans, she spent enough hours listening to her father rage about Maester Mellos’s mistakes and the Citadel’s overconfidence.
“Inform my councilmen there is to be a session tomorrow after breakfast.” Viserys said at last, dropping the letter with the other two and resting a hand atop. “This seal can only be from my uncle, Archmaester Vaegon, so hopefully the Citadel has finally done something useful to fix their mistakes of late.”
Alicent winced at the words, looking down at her plate of cake, though she knew it was Maester Mellos’ fault for wrongly proclaiming her with child she still felt ashamed for not knowing better than to believe the man. It had warmed her heart to witness how wroth her father had been over the man’s mistake that cost them so much, including Alicent’s reputation.
“That was my thought as well, my King.” Maester Barry nodded. “I will be informing your council right away… Good night, Your Graces.”
She muttered a low ‘good night’ for politeness’ sake and looked up just in time to see the man leave the king’s solar. Alicent felt discomfited now and waited uncomfortably for King Viserys to open his daughter’s letter to start gushing praises about the girl; that was certainly all she needed to make their bed activities later even worse for her.
“I will read them in the morning.” Was what her husband said instead to Alicent’s relief and smiled at her before focusing his lilac eyes on his plate. “Let us enjoy this delicious cake now... Bring me the pie too, and more wine.”
Alicent donned a more genuinely smile and was able to actually enjoy dessert even if one piece of cake was enough to get her full. Her relief started to wane though the more wine her husband started to drink, maybe the letter from the Citadel also got him worried which was understandable but still was a bad omen for Alicent. King Viserys always was a bit rougher when he had too much to drink.
Predictably, as soon as the servants cleared out the table and left, leaving only the half full pitcher of wine behind, Viserys wobbly stood up with a cup in hand and gestured for them to go to his room. Alicent took a breath to calm herself, understanding of her husband need for comfort and distraction from the unexpected worry brought to him that night, and followed him to his sleeping room.
Though the wine made his handling of her in bed rougher it also thankfully made him finish much quicker. Soon enough King Viserys weight was off of her and Alicent could have a relieved breath; she scooted away from her husband as soon as he started to snore loudly and waited just a few more minutes before standing up from bed.
She pushed down her nightgown that had been rucked up to her waist by the king, careful not to let it touch her dirtied thighs; Alicent hated the sticky mess of seed left behind between her thighs and hated even more that she could not wash it away until the morning. It was awful to sleep like that but a necessary evil to get her with child soon.
Picking up the robe she had used atop the gown, Alicent quickly put it on so she could walk to her own chambers with some semblance of dignity, leaving her gown there for the servants’ to take care of come morning. She first silently slipped from the king’s sleeping room and into the solar, walking towards the table where the three letters remained;; it was a reckless and impulsive decision Alicent knew but she did not want to spend another two days listening King Viserys go on and on about his precious daughter.
So she picked the letter with Princess Rhaenyra’s new personal seal, one of the many gifts from the king for his heir’s ninth nameday, the letters ‘RT’ with a single dragon on top. Alicent slipped it in one of her robes sleeves then again silently entered her husband’s room and walked to the doors, she bid all the knights good night before walking towards the queen’s apartments.
Once inside the safety of her rooms, Alicent quickly pulled the letter from her sleeve and without bothering to open it she went to the roaring hearth and unceremoniously threw the offending piece of paper in the fire. The queen watched the letter burn until it was naught but ashes with a satisfying feeling settling inside her chest.
🐉👑🔥⚔️
Laena watched her mother pace back and forth in front of the big hearth on the Great Hall, muttering under her breath what Laena could only imagine were curses at Laenor and their father.
After a whole day of panic when they noticed Laenor was nowhere in High Tide or Driftmark, with her mother flying atop Meleys for hours on end and almost roaring herself while threatening everyone to feed them to Meleys if her son was not found, Laena came to the conclusion that her idiotic brother had found a way to sneak off to the Stepstones.
It was too much of a coincidence that Laenor disappeared with no trace the same day all the ships sailed there. Moreover, Laena knew her brother and his wishes of nothing more but to go out into the world to live great adventures.
Her mother refused to believe her reasoning at first but eventually calmed down long enough that Meleys was not basically frothing at the mouth in fury, too close to tear through the castle. That had been two days ago and that afternoon an owl arrived with a letter from her father, confirming Laena’s suspicion.
Now hours later her mother was still a pile of nerves unable to do much other than swear at both husband and son.
“What are you going to do, mother?” Laena finally asked after reading the letter for the tenth time.
Her father had very succinctly explained the situation in a couple of sentences before telling his wife to send Seasmoke in the direction of the Stepstones for added protection to Laenor.
“What else can I do?” Rhaenys answered throwing her hands up, then sighed in defeat and walked to the armchair opposite her daughter. “If I order Corlys to send Laenor back home or worse, if I were to fly there to drag his arse all the way here, it would undermine his imagine.” She said with another sigh, leaning back on the chair. “That fucking boy! When I get my hands on him…”
Ever since Laena talked to her about her guess of what had happened to Laenor all Rhaenys could think about was her father, conjuring the gruesome image of him chocking in his own blood with a Myrish arrow in his throat. The same Myrish that her husband and cousin were now fighting against, where her son, her baby boy was at.
Rhaenys only options was to either risk leaving him in a warzone or risk giving the Velaryons the opportunity to depose her children and her if Corlys was to die in the war. Either option could lead one or all of them to their deaths. Unlike Corlys, Rhaenys knew better than to trust his family of ambitious snakes not to sink to any level to get their hands on the Driftwood throne.
“All your father’s family want is one small slip to get us out of here.” Rhaenys said, not wishing for her daughter to be the same cloud-headed fool her son apparently was. “If your father was to die there, they would sink their claws into us and tear us a part… That bloody Driftwood throne is as cursed as the Iron Throne.”
“But if father died and Laenor lived, that would give them less of a reason to try get the Driftwood throne?” Laena questioned.
“Maybe... Maybe it would mean nothing anyways.” She answered and rubbed a hand down her face, feeling a headache coming back to split her skull open.
“What if they both died?” Laena asked in a whisper, eyes widening in horror at the possibility, she had not truly stopped to think of the consequences of war but now with both father and Laenor there.
“Then it would be just you and I, darling.” Rhaenys answered reaching out to held her girl’s hand. “Crawling our way to either the Red Keep or the Stormlands… Another throne denied to us.”
“But… But…” Laena chewed on her lower lip, afraid to put her thoughts into words. “If they… Then I would be next in line to succeed father. It’s the law, a daughter comes first than uncles or male cousins.”
“Yet my uncle became heir and then his son became king.” Rhaenys said gritting her teeth, wishing again she could have been the one to claw her grandfather’s heart out. “That is the precedent set that old Jaehaerys did not take into account when making his decisions.”
“King Viserys made his daughter heir, surely he would back my claim if it came to that?”
“Oh darling, Viserys will not back his own daughter’s claim lest of all other people’s daughters.” Rhaenys scoffed. “Especially if that little harlot gives him a son.”
“And if she doesn’t?” She asked, praying that the Hightower little cunt was barren.
“Then Rhaenyra has a rough and long path to fight her way into that cursed chair… She already does either way.”
“Should we not be there for her, mother?” Laena asked what she has been dying too ever since they left the capital, it was one thing her father being angry and petty, but they should be different. “We are family... The small family either of us has left, we should be there for each other.”
Rhaenys smiled sadly at her girl, caressing the side of her face, she looked so much like her late mother in certain lights, even the vibrant blue of her eyes was more Baratheon blue than Velaryon.
“Your grandfather would have been proud to hear you say such words.” She commented feeling her eyes sting with yet another memory of the father she lost too early.
“We both can make him proud, mother.” Laena insisted, grabbing her mother’s hand and squeezing. “Rhaenyra is blood of our blood, and the blood of the dragon runs thick." She said the words she once read in one of the diaries of their ancestors in the Red Keep's library once. "We have to stand together. Like Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon would have want us to.”
“Oh my love, when did you grew up that I didn’t even see?” Rhaenys wondered, a stray tear falling down her cheeks. Her daughter might resemble Jocelyn but her spirits was all Aemon.
“Us girls need to learn to grow up much too fast, you taught me.” She replied looking away, afraid her eyes might betray the true reasons behind her words.
“Indeed we always do.” Rhaenys sighed, all she wanted was for her children to be just children like she was never able to and yet, one was off to war and the other one was proving wiser than Rhaenys ever was at Laena’s age. “One issue at a time though, huh? Let us visit Seasmoke and then once I get him to go to Laenor we can talk about you reaching out to Rhaenyra, does that sound good?”
Laena nodded eagerly and stood up with her mother, both of them walking out of the Great Hall hand in hand.
“How are you going to make Seasmoke fly to Laenor?” Laena asked curiously while they walked the corridors.
“Fuck if I know.” Rhaenys answered and shook her head in exasperation. “Daemon should have sent instructions with his stupid idea.”
“I guess then you did not get to those dragon lessons?” Laena joked looking impishly at her mother.
“I was not even supposed to get a dragon.” Rhaenys said and laughed, feeling lighter than she had in the last three days.
“Do you think I can get a dragon of mine own one day, mother?”
“Maybe.” She answered, though her cousin was less smart than their grandfather regarding that she still did not wish to give her girl false hope. “But if not, you still can achieve great things without one.”
“You really think so?” Laena asked doubtful of such thing, what could she possibly do greater than what dragonriders can achieve atop their mighty dragons?
“Of course, darling, you are the blood of Old Valyria... You were born destined for great things.”
Laena smiled at her mother, grateful for her confident words and loving smile, even if she could not shake the doubts about that it was still good to know her mother thought of her like that. And Laena liked the sound of it, of being worthy like any dragonrider even if she did not have a mount, of being capable of accomplishing just as grand things as any other Targaryen before her.
Maybe she would. If she repeated the thought enough times, maybe she would at least be able to believe it.
*
A week was the time it took for her mother and Meleys finally make Seasmoke fly off... Somewhere. Whether the Stepstones or other place remained to be seen. All that struggle got Laena curious for the first time as to why there was no dragonkeepers on High Tide.
Her mother explained that though Jaehaerys had to accept her claiming of Meleys after it happened, he refused to give away any more of what belonged to Targaryens once she married and left to Driftmark. Thankfully, her mother had said with a proud smile, her aunt Alyssa never left Meleys idle or to be pampered too much so it was no big deal for Meleys to quickly learn and get used to care after herself.
Laena thought it sad anyways, that the she-dragon had to be all alone like that for so long after living among so many dragons. And now when she finally gained a companion, Seasmoke had to leave thanks to her stupid brother. According to her mother though, Meleys would fly all the way to the Dragonmont whenever she felt like having some company. That would explain the dragon’s absence sometimes, Laena always thought it was only because she went hunting.
The world of dragons was a mystery to Laena, no matter her mother’s tales and then Laenor’s, she could never really know without having a dragon bond herself. Something that was more impossible than possible she knew. Laena was a Velaryon not a Targaryen and unlike Laenor she did not have the privilege of being the firstborn son, merely a daughter.
No matter that though, once Syrax was big enough Rhaenyra would take her up in the sky and the two would fly off together for hours and days. Just like they used to talk about. Laena just needed to be less of a coward and write to her cousin like her mother had allowed her to. But Laena was unsure of what to say after leaving Rhaenyra all alone like that in a moment like that. So she kept pushing it off to another day again and again.
Soon days turned into weeks, she and her mother busier and busier holding down the fort as best as possible with the slow but steady moving of the war. Especially since her bitch of a widowed aunt refused to leave High Tide, instead aunt Evina was much too happy nagging at her mother every two seconds, it was like the woman had no sense of self preservation.
Worse yet was that her youngers sons who did not go to the Stepstones were also staying in the castle and prancing around as if they were the Lord of Tide’s children. More than once Laena wished she did have a dragon if only to roast those stupid boys along with their stupid mother, damn blood relation.
At least her other aunt and female cousins were decent people, actual helpful hands to her mother instead of nuisances. They actually took way more shit from aunt Evina and her sons which was what made both her and her mother even more indignant. Aunt Mirian and her daughters were gentle souls, kind and generous, always with a comforting word or hug to give when one needed. Poor cousin Elaenor did not deserve to be shackled to awful dumb Vaemond but with any luck she would raise their child to be better than its father.
Time was flying by with all the endless busy days, the more things picked up at the war front, the more work there was to do in Driftmark. Father’s seat was one of the worst affected even before the war, now things were just getting worse. Trading with any other places but Westeros was starting to halt and with autumn there, and soon winter, trade within Westeros would get complicated too.
How come the king did not think the situation serious enough and in need to be handled? Laena could not understand. Maybe her parents were right in saying King Viserys was the worst choice for the throne.
Soon they entered the 7th moon of the year and her mother’s nameday approached quickly. Her mother did not wish to celebrate it in anyway but Laena could not pass the opportunity to organize something, small as it would be. It was a gloomy affair but at least the organization of it had served to keep her distracted in a better way than shadowing her mother in the running of the island.
A few days after her mother’s nameday dinner Laena did not had to worry about writing to Rhaenyra anymore, for her cousin sent her a letter first. All the way from the Riverlands. Apparently Rhaenyra was doing an unofficial and small tour, taking advantage of being en route to the Vale for her cousin Lady Jeyne’s nameday ball.
When Lanea excitedly told her mother about it she only hummed but Laena still caught the little grin on her lips, the same grin Princess Rhaenys usually had whenever Laenor or her did something mischievous that she greatly approved of but could not outwardly express.
With the letter Rhaenyra also sent a gift that she wrote it had reminded her of Laena, a necklace with a seahorse pendant. Her cousin’s present and her words of everything she had been experiencing in her travels made Laena smile for days. And dream she could be there experiment it all beside her cousin.
But her mother needed her more. Especially once one of the village’s midwives confirmed that her mother was with child; now Laena’s duties truly outweighed her fanciful dreams of adventure. If the worse was to happen, with her father or brother or both, Laena had to be ready to be a worthy heir to the Driftwood Throne.
Notes:
Daemon always expecting for betrayal 💔 but at least he gets ready in case it does happen!
Johanna wont be the all power in Lys anymore like canon but she can still be useful in Westeros 😌Baby Rhae out here slaying and proving her worth 🥰 Harrenhal part wasn't supposed to be this much but I just have no control over my straying thoughts 🤡 So next up I'll tie this part up and rush through the rest of the Riverlands tour!
It was for the better thought since the last part of Rhae's pov w knighting her cousin was a good contrast to some parts of Alicent's povSpeaking of it... Sisters cat-fight 😋 It's been so fun to develop Astrid, she is a wild card with little fucks to give for either side! She has that bitter/spiteful second son energy mixed with bitter feelings for all of her family so she will be out here caring solely for her own ass 🤭
One of the greens' worst canon traits imo is their very dysfunctional and awful dynamics as a family so I'll be exploring that with Otto's brood!Jolene's teas to Alicent we already know what it is, the reason she hadn't got pregnant so far, but what might those "tonics'' to Vizzy from Otto be? Poison or something else more disgusting? 🫣
Rhaenys is not the greatest mother but at least she has the trying aspect going on for her unlike other parents 😅 As many of you have pointed out and I do concur, Hightowers and Velaryons aren’t that much different 🤷🏾♀️ Rhaenys ought to be careful w just her&Laena all alone!!
Oh btw in canon it does not confirm which of the Vance houses, house Smallwood is sworn to. Location wise it would make sense to be to the Vances of Atranta but they were greens. Smallwood and the Vances of Wayfarers were blacks so I chose them as their Vance liege house! House Lothston and House Whent don't become actual noble houses until years after the dance so they will remain 'not-houses' for the time being 😅
Jonah Mooton was one of the men from Saera's scandal hence the suspense for his arrival 🫣I guess that's all for now 🤭
Links for the fic if you're interested: https://br.pinterest.com/lilolua0628/
https://virgogeminiposts.tumblr.com/Leave kudos and comments to let me know if you liked it ❣️
See you in the next one!!
Kisses 😘
Chapter 31: Chapter Thirty: 106 AC Part XV
Notes:
Heeeelloooou dear readers
So I really had to rush to finish this chapter in the last four days to post it today since I lost a couple days before that losing my mind writing another story, and I actually could not put everything that's why this one is on the """smaller"""" side. So yeah, this might not be the best chapter 😅
But at least I finally finished the Riverlands tour and started on the Vale tour 🤗
This one is entirely Rhaenyra-centric 🥰 We also get to see a couple canon characters!Anyways... My efforts to update a new chapter today is because one year ago I was publishing this baby monster for the first time!!! So HAPPY 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY SEVEN DEVILS READERS 😭
Thank you so much everyone who has given this story a chance, who has stuck w me and my ramble this far, all your kudos and comments it's what kept me going this long ❣️
I know the story's slow s l o w slow pace can be maddening, trust me I get frustrated w it too 🥲 but my mind really came up w a huge beast of a storyline and we'll get there people!!! Just keep the kudos and comments and the faith that I shall do my all to deliver 🥰And if you like my writing and haven't seen yet, I've posted a new story 😁 If you got the time, give it a read to see if it interests you! Here's the link:: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57508114/chapters/146314960
As always, I apologize for any grammar mistakes!
High Valyrian = bold italicHave a fun reading 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The tourney opening feast that night would happen at the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. Rhaenyra dressed in one of her lavish red and black gowns, she put on her rings, a necklace and earrings, and donned her circlet like the princess she was.
The Hall was immense, bigger than the Red Keep's throne room, and although there were many hearths Rhaenyra was disappointed there wasn’t actually a hundred. The number of people present barely filled half of the space. She walked to the high table, people bowing to her when she passed by; her Arryn family and the Strongs were already at the table.
Rhaenyra sat between her aunt and Lady Sally, with the Arryns on her right side and the Strongs on her left side. While everyone settled on their seats, a family sporting the coat-of-arms of House Mooton approached the high table.
“Good evening, Princess Rhaenyra.” Lord Jonah Mooton greeted her with a deep bow before greeting the rest of the table, he seemed to be a decade or so older than her father. “I apologize for the long delay. My family and I were unable to leave Maidenpool on schedule to arrive here on time.”
“From what your knight informed me you had urgent matters to take care of, no need for apologies, my lord.” Rhaenyra said with a small smile. “Perhaps later we can talk more about the issue so I can pass the matter to the King.”
“Of course, Princess.” Lord Mooton nodded a bit too eagerly. “Please let me introduce you my family.” He added gesturing to the woman and three young men beside him. “This here is my wife, Lady Perianne.”
“My Princess.” The lady greeted with well-done curtsey, she was a really beautiful woman with dark hair and bright green eyes. “It is good to meet you, Princess Rhaenyra. You are as beautiful as the tales say, even more than Princess Viserra was.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Rhaenyra smiled at her. “It is good to meet people who used to know my family.”
“Perianne, how nice to see you again.” Aunt Amanda greeted the woman. “It has been quite some time since you last visited the Vale.”
“Indeed it has, Lady Amanda. Life raising three boys can get quite busy.” Lady Perianne said before looking to the young men beside her, they ranged from the ages of ten to twenty. “This is Walys, our firstborn, and his brothers, Manfryd and Jon.”
After greetings were done the family went back to their own table and Rhaenyra stood up to yet again thank everyone attendance and talk briefly of the tourney’s itinerary for the next two days when knights would be competing. After that the courses started being served as well as the bards started playing low tunes, a nice background sound to the raised cacophony of people talking.
As soon as the plates started to be taken away people went on to mingle amongst each other and so Rhaenyra left the high table to do the same, followed by her aunt and her knight, Ser Criston. She greeted as many people as possible, being her most charming and delight self as people expected the Realm’s Delight to be. When Rhaenyra noticed that the conversation between Lord Jonah and a few men had come to an end, Rhaenyra quickly made her way to him.
The head of House Mooton was standing a short distance from the table where his wife and sons were sitting, while Rhaenyra stopped by the Lord’s side, her aunt went to talk with the other Vale woman.
“My Princess.” Lord Jonah greeted her.
“Lord Jonah.” She said looking up at the man and without preambles went straight to the point. “I wish to speak with you about the situation in the Stepstones. That was what kept you loni at Maidenpool, right?”
“Yes, my Princess. The situation is getting direr now that the Prince Daemon and the Sea Snake engaged with this Triarchy.” He answered, his tone placid enough she could not tell whether he was in disagreement with that or not.
“And it wasn’t before?” Rhaenyra questioned, in truth she did not know the extent of the issue since Lord Corlys was the only one willing to bring the matter up in the small council.
“It was bad.” The Lord answered with emphasis to the last word. “Do not misunderstand me, my Princess, I meant no judgment about your uncle’s campaign.” He continued. “In fact I, and I’m sure others too, was hopeful when I first received news about it that it had been an action taken by the Crown.”
“How so?” She asked fully interested now, his words not so different from Lord Darklyn’s.
“Well, after that Triarchy and this Crabfeeder first started with their obscene high tolls, trade got ugly quickly for the smaller ports and lesser houses.” Lord Jonah explained, then gestured to an empty table nearby for them to sit. “My own house and its port could go on for a while longer but the same could not be said about others, I heard quite a few lesser lords be almost beggared by it.” He added after they had sat, Ser Criston just a few steps behind her chair. “The real problem though was when they started to attack ships, raid them, sink them, not only killing but also taking people hostages.”
“I… I did not know that... About them kidnapping people.” Rhaenyra looked with eyes wide at the lord. “I do not think that new hasn’t reached the capital.”
“Huh.” Lord Jonah frowned. “That is odd. I myself sent a raven to the capital after my third ship was attacked and we received news that the younger men had been taken and sold off.” He said to an even more wide eyed princess. “This Crabfeeder or whatever he is called, only started doing that more recently but I was not the only one with young sailors taken away. I heard some cruise ships had their girls taken too to be sold to pleasure houses.”
Rhaenyra gasped at that, appalled to hear this had been happening and her father, the Crown had no idea about it. Could Lord Jonah’s letter and any other lord’s being amongst all the misplaced or lost correspondence? If so then that error had caused more damaged than the king and his council were aware of.
Although so far she received no answer to the letter she sent her father before leaving the Antlers and she had planned to send another only before leaving Harrenhal, Rhaenyra needed to write another tonight. Maybe if the council knew Westerosi boys and girls were being sold then they would see the need to officially go against the Triarchy.
“There was… A problem in the Red Keep’s rookery. Some letters were sadly lost.” Rhaenyra said sheepishly.
“Oh right. Well, that would explain the lack of answer.” Lord Jonah tried to smile but she could tell he was not entirely convinced. “In any case, that situation was bad enough. But since your uncle, Prince Daemon, and Lord Velaryon declared war against the Triarchy, trade with Essos has basically halted.” He continued on anyways. “Sailing through the Stepstones is even more dangerous with a dragon there now…”
“My uncle would never harm our ships and people, my lord.” Rhaenyra was quick to defend her kepus against the implication.
“Of course not, my Princess!” Lord Jonah quickly said realizing his bad delivery of that sentence. “But they could get caught in the crossfire so sailors from both here and Essos are preferring to avoid that and have to sail other routes that sometimes take twice, thrice the amount of time, and coin.”
Rhaenyra bit her lip, it had only been little over a moon since her kepus left to the Stepstones, considering Lord Mooton’s words did it mean Uncle Daemon had already engaged in battle?
“Have you heard... There has been battles then?” She asked unconsciously twisting her rings around her fingers under the table.
“Only two last I heard.” He answered, eyes softening at the princess’ clear worry, the expression so reminiscing of the rare times he ever saw Saera worry over anything actually important. “Prince Daemon’s dragon and fleet wrought utter destruction to take over one of the bigger islands from Triarchy hands.” Lord Jonah said with a small grin. “Or so it goes the tale of one of the last ships to dare pass close by the Stepstones. The sailors dubbed the island, the Torturer’s Deep.”
“Sailors and singers always choose terrible names for things.” Rhaenyra said after fighting the wish to snort, imagining the poor sailors coming upon men burning to death by Caraxes’ flames.
“Indeed, my Princess.” He nodded, maybe it was because he saw that enough in Saera’s eyes but to him it was easy to detect a dangerously satisfied glint in the princess’ violet eyes. “Prince Baelon would have been proud of your uncle, he and Princess Alyssa both.” Lord Jonah said, it had been a known fact in the Red Keep how the couple wished to bring forth warriors sons for the family. “If you do not mind me asking, Princess, why hasn’t King Viserys acted if Prince Daemon and Lord Corlys were willing to fight the cause?”
“My father does not wish to dishonour his grandfather by bringing war to the peaceful kingdom King Jaehaerys left to him.” Rhaenyra answered the less worse of the reasons, it would not do to reveal her father was an inept king allowing himself to be pupeetered by his council and court in the name of pleasing people.
“Well, I guess King Viserys never got to witness Old Jaehaerys enraged and not one bit peaceful.” Lord Jonah snorted, now he could laugh but back then he had really thought the king would feed him to his dragon. “King Jaehaerys knew when confrontation was necessary and welcomed it if it was the only option left, something he taught to his sons.”
“Like you said, my Lord, my father sadly only had the Wise King in his later and failing years.” Rhaenyra said trying not to sound judgmental but like just a daughter in defence of her father. “Father tells me of the lessons King Jaehaerys imparted on him of always upholding peace so it has been difficult for him to decide to act against the Triarchy… But I’ll write to him and his council with this new information.”
“I’ll pray then that the king and his council comes to a sensible decision.” He said, not so discreetly hitting at what his stance on the matter was. “If Prince Daemon has the support of the Crown, the habours and houses with the power to aid, will do so. Anything for this to be over soon.”
“I promise to do anything in my power as the king’s heir to achieve that, Lord Mooton.”
“Gods, you may have Princess Viserra’s beauty but that fire is all Saera and Princess Alysaa.” Lord Jonah could not hold back that thought, being in the presence of the little princess brought so many memories he usually tried to avoid.
Rhaenyra was about to ask the lord if he had known her grandmother well, or at least enough to share a tale or two, but her aunt and his wife arrived at their table.
“Princess Rhaenyra.” Lady Perianne said with a smile and sat on the chair beside her husband. “Jonah, Lady Amanda just told me about Lady Jeyne’s nameday ball, it is to be a grand event. My brother and sister are set to attend, and Lady Amanda was kind to invite me as well.”
“Oh, if you wish to go, my dear.” The lord gave a nod and a smile to his wife.
“I do. Lady Amanda tells me my father’s healthy has only worsened. It would be a good opportunity to visit him with the boys.” She said with a solemn expression.
“My niece still has a few more houses to visit here in the Riverlands.” Lady Amanda said standing beside her, a comforting hand resting on her shoulder. “But our Vale retinue will leave there after the tourney. If it would be less trouble, Perianne and your sons can go with them.”
“Yes, that is a great idea.” Lord Jonah agreed making his wife smile widely. “Perhaps it is for the best for you and the boys to stay in your father’s keep during this business in the Stepstones.”
Rhaenyra and her aunt exchanged a look, a silent agreement to talk about that later.
“My thoughts exactly.” Lady Perianne nodded and then fixed her eyes on Rhaenyra. “Princess Rhaenyra, it is truly startling how much you resemble Viserra. You could easily pass off as her granddaughter.”
“She is said to have been a great beauty so thank you, my Lady.” Rhaenyra smiled, preening over the compliment.
“Great beauty is an understatement.” She chuckled. “If you wish to know more about any of them, I know a story or two.”
“That would be nice, yes.” Rhaenyra said curious and eager to know anything about the family she never had a chance to meet.
After that Aunt Amanda excused them and led Rhaenyra to briefly talk with some of the other lords again before she could go back to the high table where Ser Harwin had just returned too.
“Princess Rhaenyra, Lady Amanda.” He said, sitting on his stepmother’s chair to more discreetly speak with them. “A raven just arrived from Kings Landing.”
“Has father finally answered me?” She questioned with a huff, annoyed he had ignored her this long.
“I am afraid not, my Princess.” Ser Harwin answered. “It was a missive from Jolene, the maid.”
By now her aunt was already appraised about her kepus action to put people loyal to him to protect her but also spy for them both, something Aunt Amanda greatly approved of and had even talked with the two maids and Ser Luthor.
“What news does she have?” Aunt Amanda asked.
“A new Grandmaester was sent to the Red Keep.” He replied looking somewhat discomfited. “The Citadel sent the king and princess’ own relative, Vaegon Targaryen.”
Rhaenyra frowned at that, the former prince never made any contact with her parents and uncle as far as she knew, he scarcely even wrote to his own parents she overheard her mother comment once. She did not know what to think of this. She could not even inquiry about it since the information did not come directly from her father or the council. Rhaenyra could only hope this meant something good, a positive change to how things were run in the Red Keep on the maesters’ front, something beneficial to her and not another obstacle.
--
The next day they all broke their fast together in the great hall and afterwards they went to the bear pit again for the beginning of the knightly competitions. To her aunt’s chagrin the newly knighted Adrian put his name for those contests as well, even though as he pointed out it was unlikely for him to win this time around.
The first contest was horse racing, the bear pit just big enough for it, and only the knights with great stallions of the best breeds were participating. It took the rest of the morning but in the end a knight from House Butterwell won the contest. Rhaenyra congratulated the knight, informing the amount of gold dragons for his reward and praised all the other participants too, after Lady Sally announced a break for lunch and rest while the participants for the melee readied themselves.
Weather that day was quite stifling and despite the nice winds Rhaenyra was sweating through her too thick dress, so while people went to eat she went to her chambers to freshen up and change dresses, Ser Criston and her maids following after her.
Ser Criston would accompany her through the whole day, not just for being her sworn shield but because that was the compromise the three Kingsguard found so they could compete. Rhaenyra did not want to deprive them of the field and had to order them to enter the lists as se knew they wanted. Sers Steffon and Erryk would compete that day in the melee while Ser Criston guarded her, the Ser Criston and Ser Steffon would compete in the joust tomorrow while Ser Erryk guarded her.
All ready again, Rhaenyra went to the hall to finally eat. After the meal they lounged in the hall for a while longer, Rhaenyra doing rounds to talk with the lords and their families so she would not have to that night.
Once back in the bear pit, Rhaenyra wished luck for the participants and again informed the amount of gold dragons as the reward, just slightly more than the previous reward. Then the melee began. There would be three rounds, first with the younger knights, then the older knight and lastly all finalists together. Hours went by and although there were no deaths there were plenty of gruesome injuries, blood coating the sand by the time the last round began.
In the end Ser Harwin Strong was the winner after quite arduously defeating Ser Steffon, thankfully the Strong heir did not break anything in her Kingsguard like he had with three other knights, making jus to his ‘Breakbones’ nickname.
The feast that night was a merry affair, with another mummer’s presentation that got everyone laughing through it and after when food started being served the bards played happy tunes. It did not take long for things to get a bit too wild with that many knights drinking, gloating, messing with each other and telling quite the obscene tales. While in the Red Keep her father would have sent her to bed long ago, here as the hightest ranking person, no matter her age people had to respect her wish to remain for as long as she wanted.
For the first time since she met her oldest cousin, Rhaenyra witnessed Adrian getting utterly drunk while in a table full of knights, Ser Erryk included and also getting really tipsy. It was a fun night, another one that distracted her worries away and allowed her to just enjoy these simple moments of life.
When her cousin started getting so drunk he started falling on his ass, Aunt Amanda huffed in exasperation.
“If that boy thinks he is too old to get his ass beaten by his mother…” She muttered under her breath while standing up.
Rhaenyra heard an amused snort from behind her from her knight and looked back to share an impish smile with him. She stood up as well and bid the remaining Strongs in the table good night before following after her aunt, who along with Ser Steffon and Ser Erryk were dragging Adrian away. Despite Amara, Samya and Lucile pleading to stay as well, they were ordered to bed hours ago; Rhaenyra would have to compensate them later for that.
From the looks Ser Steffon was throwing Ser Erryk, the older knight was not that happy with his sworn brother either which only amused Rhaenyra more.
“Just throw him in the bed.” Aunt Amanda said shaking her head at her almost passed out son. “Let’s see how he likes the consequences in the morning.”
“That’s mean, aunt.” Rhaenyra chuckled, watching the two kingsguards close the door to her cousin's room, then bow to her before leaving.
“That, darling, is how we raise boys into somewhat decent men… But men will always be men and decency is not in their nature, sweet girl.” Amanda said unrepentant, proud of the lesson her mother instilled in her from an early age, then gave a pat to her niece’s soft cheek. “Now go rest, we have another long day tomorrow. Your maids should be waiting for you.”
“Good night, aunt.” She said giving a hug to her aunt.
“Have a good sleep, darling.”
While her aunt entered her own room Rhaenyra walked to hers, before entering the opened door where her maids were indeed waiting for her, she looked up at her knight.
“Are you sure you will be alright, Ser Criston, standing guard all night and then jousting tomorrow?” She asked with a slight frown of worry. “There is plenty of guards here if you wish to rest for tomorrow.”
“Not to worry, my Princess, I will be fine.” Ser Criston answered smiling down at his princess, her kindness to everyone no matter their status always warmed his heart. “Besides, Ser Erryk will come to replace me as soon as dawn breaks.”
“He did not seem like he was up for that.” Rhaenyra grinned.
“Ser Steffon will make sure he is, my Princess.” He said, his older sworn brother liked to fashion himself after their Lord Commander and has made sure to keep him and Cargyll on their toes this entire travel.
“Alright then. Good night, Ser Criston. Good night, good Sers.” She said to all the guards posted on her floor for protection.
Nayele and Tilda were swift in getting her out of the dress, helping her freshen up again and putting on her nightgown, then Nayele rebraided her hair into the usual braid she liked for sleep. Despite both her mother and uncle’s attempts to teach her not to sleep with her hair loose Rhaenyra had to learn the hard way by waking up with hellish tangles that were a pain to brush. She never dismissed that advise from them again after that.
Sleep came easy for her once more, though she did have some strange dream, something to do with her little cousin but when Rhaenyra woke up, she could not fully remember it. That left her a little jittery nonetheless. So she decided to go visit Syrax before breakfast.
Rhaenyra was not able to visit her lady yet with how busy she had been but the dragonkeepers reports were enough to not worry her, she still felt guilty all the same.
Apparently Syrax really took a liking to the Godswood, staying there and not leaving since the first day, the keepers reported to her about how the yellow dragon was content to just lazy around close to the weirwood, sunbathing every now and then, and being fed. Not caring for going hunting and flying off as she had in their previous stops.
Rhaenyra understood why as soon as she entered the Godswood, the feeling in the air was almost the same she felt in the few times she visited the Dragonmont. There was magic in this place, strong magic, and that was surely thrumming through Syrax ten time more than it did in Rhaenyra’s blood. It was different somehow than the magical feeling from the Dragonmont, a difference Rhaenyra was not special enough in that regard to decipher.
“You are going to get fat this way, you spoiled girl.” Rhaenyra murmured after approaching her lady since Syrax remained laying down, unbothered. “You feel too, right? That is why you liked it here so much.”
Most people thought the weirwoods, the true ones with those bloody faces that would sometimes bleed tears, eery or abnormal but looking up at the face carved on the weirwood of Harrenhal, Rhaenyra felt comforted. Safe somehow. Like being watched over, protected, the same feeling she felt when in the Red Keep's Godswood, the reason she liked to hide away there so much.
“The northerner tales tell this is how their Gods look after them. That they see all through the trees. That they are the trees” Rhaenyra whispered, hands gently caressing her girl’s scales. “Maybe that is true. Maybe their trees should not have been cut down like they were.”
Syrax crooned and leaned her big head into Rhaenyra, careful enough not to throw her to the ground making her smile. How she loved her dragon. She spent a while longer there with Syrax, caressing her warm scales and telling her all about what had happened in these last few days.
Her lady would huff hot air, croon or grunt every so often, as if listening and understanding Rhaenyra, like she always had. Syrax was her very first friend in life, sometimes her only friend, her lady was her truest friend and she would always be the bestest of friends; the only one Rhaenyra knew without a shadow of a doubt would be true to her always.
--
The visit with Syrax invigorated Rhaenyra and took away any lingering worries, somehow she knew things were alright with her Baela. So she went through the late breakfast, most people unwilling to wake before the tenth hour, with new energy; something people took noticed of. The Realm’s Delight indeed, some whispered.
Weather that day was a bit chillier than the previous day so Rhaenyra asked Tilda to fetch her a thick overcoat for her to put over her riding clothes; she had thought of flying but Syrax had been so content Rhaenyra decided not to disturb her girl’s peace. And she was not in the mood to go back to her rooms to change.
The joust was as exciting as the melee, more even since Rhaenyra had always liked to watch joust better. Unsurprisingly and to her delight, Ser Criston asked for her favour after he won his first round and since her cousin, who looked half dead sitting demurely beside Aunt Amanda, would not participate Rhaenyra threw her wreath of flowers to her white knight with a big smile.
She never made her own wreath of flowers like most girls, just like with sewing Rhaenyra would prick her fingers every two seconds whenever she did try to make one so it was usually her maids who made one but this time her cousin Amara was the one to do it, her and Lucile chattering all happy while doing four wreaths for each of them. Though Amara and Samya thought they would not be asked any favours. They were wrong, for as soon as Ser Walys Mooton won his round he came forward to ask her cousin’s favour in the name of his youngest brother and squire Jon.
Then a knight from House Cox followed the same example and asked for Samya’s favour in the name of his squire, Lord Cox’ son and heir. Ser Harwin of course asked for his sister’s, Lucile, favour which she granted with a threat for him to win the joust too. Aunt Amanda did not scape either since Ser Steffon, the only knight who could do that without causing offense, asked for her favour.
After hours and many rounds, her sworn shield was the winner of the joust. Ser Criston of course named the princess, his beloved charge, as Queen of Love and Beauty and gave Rhaenyra a beautiful crown of flowers.
She wore the crown during the whole feast that night, preening over being made Queen of Love and Beauty as she always did when she was named such by a winning knight. It was always uncle Daemon who made her queen when he won tourneys but Rhaenyra was glad Ser Criston for the second time has done it too. Showing proper gratitude and respect for the person who elevated him to the highest position someone like him could had ever only dreamed of achieving.
Rhaenyra stayed late again, this time her three friends were allowed too since it was the last feast, and enjoyed it all to its fullest. Who knew when she would have chance for this once she returned to King’s Landing, even if it would be moons until then, she was already dreading what she might find when she returned.
--
Early next morning she was wide awake after another dream, again something about Baela she could not properly remember once her eyes opened. Rhaenyra went again to the Godswood to visit Syrax and intended to fly her girl this time to help calm her mind; spending a bit of time gliding around Harrenhal, Harrentown and the God’s Eye did the trick as Rhaenyra knew it would.
She left the Godswood once more with a sense of calmness and reassurance over her worry with Baela, as well as a prickling sense that whatever she had dreamed was not a bad warning but more of a sign for caution. Rhaenyra felt frustrated she did not have more of the magic some of her ancestors did, like Daenys and Aegon I, that would be more helpful than just some strong intuition.
Rhaenyra put those thoughts aside in order to focus in saying her farewells to the families who would start leaving Harrenhal that afternoon. Besides the riverlanders, their Vale retinue would also leave, make their way to the Vale instead of following her to the rest of the way through the Riverlands; though some of the knights would remain for her and the Arryn’s protection. As she did with the Crownlands, Rhaenyra assured to keep in mind their castles to visit in hers and the King’s official progress, as well as keep their daughters in mind for the position of ladies-in-waiting.
After the families and households left, Rhaenyra spent the rest of the afternoon and night lazying around. She called her friends for a picnic in the Godswood and all three girls were all giddy to spent time that close to a dragon.
The next day the ones that had remained a while longer were ready to leave. Lord Jonah, his wife and sons having left the previous day to the Vale, would follow Lady Cox, Lord Hawick and their households to the Saltpans and then travel by ship from there to Maidenpool.
“Lord Jonah, I already sent a letter to the king about what we discussed.” Rhaenyra said to the man while Lady Sally and aunt Amanda were busy saying their farewells to the others. Then she asked what she had asked to Lord Darklyn. “But please, keep the Crown appraised of the situation in the Stepstones and however it may affect our people.” She smiled demurely up at him and was satisfied by the approving nod he gave her, so she added. “In case you do not receive any answer, you can send letters to the Eyrie, my cousin Jeyne will pass them to me once I get there and I will be sure to make the Small Council give the matter the necessary attention.”
“Of course, Princess Rhaenyra.” Lord Jonah agreed and smiled down at her. “It is good to know how serious you take your new position as heir, despite your young age and inexperience.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” She kept on the smile even if his last words burned. “Moreover, my father and my uncle might not be in the best of terms right now but I am still in contact with uncle Daemon.”
The way Lord Jonah arched an eyebrow but gave a slight nod showed he understood what she left unsaid. Good then for Lord Darklyn had not, Rhaenyra thought in frustration.
Lord Roote was the only one who did not leave since Rhaenyra would go to Harroway now as well, and she needed some more time to pack. It did not take long, Nayele and Tilda quick in their job, and so by late afternoon that day Rhaenyra and the rest of her retinue left Harrenhal. She profusely thanked Lady Sally and Ser Simon for the great tourney they organized for her, and their wonderful hospitality.
Thankfully she did not need to ask for Lucile to go with them, Lady Sally had suggested it already stating she and her youngest daughter could entertain themselves in the Red Keep until they returned from the princess’ tour.
Rhaenyra would travel on the road to Harroway, flying only when they left for Lychester. The distance from Harrenhal to Harroway was quite short, a little over two hours, so they arrived in the early hours of the night with enough time for a nice dinner and then a long night of sleep and rest.
Early the next morning, Ser Steffon and Ser Harwin and the Gold Cloaks made their way to Lychester, her maid Tilda following them. Rhaenyra spent the morning and part of the afternoon visiting the small town, though there was not much to offer compared to other places there was enough to make it a nice outing. Especially a couple of floating shops in the Trident nearby the town, Rhaenyra and her escorts took river galleys around the Trident before stopping by those floating shops.
She once more bought gifts, much simpler ones, to send her father and give to her companions. Rhaenyra’s lilac eyes also caught sight of a beautiful seahorse necklace that reminded of Laena immediately so she bought it and later sent it with a very detailed letter to Driftmark, to her dear friend she missed.
Before long she was atop Syrax again, flying towards their next destination, once more being in awe of the wondrous sights she could have from up in the sky; everywhere she looked there was either rivers or lengthy expenses of green land. Though some parts of those green lands Rhaenyra noticed were already starting to be affected by the season.
Their stay at Lord Lychester’s keep was fairly quick, just enough for them to rest, considering how small the seat of House Lychester was. It was clear to Rhaenyra though the keep had never recovered from Queen Visenya’s attack and was slowly falling into disrepair. Perhaps she would talk with her father and his council to see if they could consider compensate in someway the houses Queen Visenya set aflame.
If they proved still regretful over joining the Faith Militant in rising against House Targaryen, that is. The Deddings and Lychesters had so far been amiable to King Viserys controversial choice of heir but Rhaenyra had learned to know better than to trust amiability. Alicent Hightower had been quite the amiable young lady and now she was Queen after whoring herself to rob Rhaenyra’s mother’s place and crown.
During her fly to Atranta, Syrax passed over High Heart which was just a short distance from Lychester, her girl flew low over the tall hill and right above the weirwood stumps, letting out a cry that to Rhaenyra’s hears sounded mournful. No wonder since even she could feel the air in that place being… Distorted. It is was still one of the great sights she had the chance to see in this tour.
House Vance of Atranta was not very amiable to her as more than a princess but the heir to the throne like the Vances of Wayfarer’s apparently were, it became clear to Rhaenyra quickly and her aunt confirmed that suspicion. So they decided to stay in Atranta one more day in a bid to see what they could do about it. In the end, the best compromise and solution aunt Amanda and her agreed on was to give a formal invitation to Lord Vance’s only daughter to become her lady-in-waiting.
Though Lord Vance kept on with his neutral, almost cold, demeanor his wife was very appeased with the offer and convinced her husband to accept. And so Lady Brenda Vance, a girl just shy of three and one, would travel to the capital once Rhaenyra returned from the Vale.
Rhaenyra wished she could get to actually know the girl before having her as a member of her household but they were late enough for Riverrun as it is. Another down side of that was also now Rhaenyra would have to invite ladies-in-waiting earlier than she had wanted. She would start a list once in the Eyrie with proper time to think over the matter.
The seat of the Vances of Atranta was two days away from Riverrun, Rhaenyra again evenly divided her time between traveling atop Syrax and travelling by road along with her entourage. The sight of Riverrun castle from above was pretty, a light pinkish dot surrounded by water on all sides, on the ground and up close it was less impressive, smaller than she expected but still confortable enough once inside.
Lord Grover Tully, a man who has already seen over sixty namedays, was a gruffy old man, short in his words and never with a smile to give. It was more than obvious his dislike over Rhaenyra being more than just another Princess and he was one of the only lords that could not hide how it chafed to have to bow down to simple requests her station allowed her to make.
His two oldest sons took after their father while the younger two were bad too but not as bad. The saving grace of the Tully family was the only grandson Lord Grover had so far, young Elmo, ‘the only repayment he received for marrying his heir to that barren Piper girl’ as he so rudely stated despite said Piper girl being in the room. No matter the lord's rude and offensive words the lady was likely the reason Elmo was a decent boy.
Lord Tully’s grandson was just a couple years older than Rhaenyra, he had inherited the common red hair from both sides of the family and had a set of deep blue eyes. Either ordered by Lord Grover or doing it by their own volution, Elmo and his mother were the ones who mainly kept Rhaenyra and her people company during their stay in Riverrun. She basically only say Lord Grover and his sons during meals.
The worst part of the tour without a doubt, it was boring and painfully awkward, but it served as a reminder to Rhaenyra how rough her path to the throne could and would be sometimes; she had become much too comfortable under so many lucky hits this far.
Rhaenyra still was graceful when telling her farewells to the family, yet again assuring the king and her would visit Riverrun during the official progress. In reality she would try her best to keep them out of it, her father does not need to be around men such as Lord Grover that could shatter his already weak resolve. Otto Hightower was more than enough.
The journey to the Vale was long and tiring, almost five days to reach the Bloody Gate from Riverrun. They mostly camped in the many fields but they would sometimes pass by smaller keeps and holdfasts where at least Rhaenyra, Lucile, Samya and her Arryn family could have a better rest.
If she was honest Rhaenyra had quite liked the experience to sleep out in the open and under the stars in a place the sky was so clean that she could lose herself trying to count the stars. Syrax would always stay on the ground when they had to make camp and Rhaenyra would sleep almost skin to skin with her, just in case some ambush did coincidentally happened again.
And then at long last they entered the Vale of Arryn. Rhaenyra flew the rest of the way just so she could witness the splendour of the Mountains of the Moon muña spoke so much about. Aemma ever only rode a dragon once when Good Queen Alysanne personally went to the Eyrie to bring her to the capital, she had just seen her eleventh nameday then and yet her muña’s descriptions of the sight the mountains and the Vale was from atop a dragon were perfect.
With autumn in full swing and winter not that far, the peaks of the mountains already showed many patches of snow and Rhaenyra marvelled at it, the very first time she ever saw snow. If from afar it was so fluffy and beautiful she could only imagine how much prettier it could be upclose. She ought to make the official tour happen before winter fully settled on the North so she could visit it before the worst of it afflicted the land.
Rhaenyra brought Syrax down half way through the Bloody Gate, but once back in the air her girl remained a steady fly not far up from the ground, not far from her. Rhaenyra excitedly retold her experience, amusing her aunt and cousins, and also bringing a glint to her aunt’s eyes as if she was about to cry.
Amanda felt pride and happiness in seeing her niece appreciate this part of her heritage that has been kept from her for far too long.
Once they reached the Bloody Gate, the knights there almost fell over themselves in their hurry to greet Rhaenyra, more than just bowing but going straight to their knees which utterly shocked her.
“It is not often we do not have to question who comes to pass the Gate.” A man, tall with broad shoulders and dark hair, spoke while walking between the kneeling man and then knelt as well when stopping in front of Rhaenyra. “Welcome, Princess Rhaenyra.”
“Thank you, Ser.” She muttered inelegantly, mind still shocked over their display, then her eyes caught on the glittering heart-shaped ruby on the pommel of the sworn on the man’s back. “Is that Lady Forlorn?”
“It is, my Princess.” The man answered before bowing his head and then standing up, the rest of the men following. “I am Ser Cory Corbray, Knight of the Gate. It is good to meet you, Princess Rhaenyra, the whole of the Vale rejoiced with the news you would come to visit us at last.” Ser Cory said with a kind smile but quickly his expression became somber. “My condolences for the loss of your mother, Princess.”
“Hello, Ser Cory, good to meet again.” Aunt Amanda said after Rhaenyra took a second too long to say anything.
“My Lady Amanda, good to have you back.”
"How fares your brother and nephews?" Her aunt asked.
"My brother caught a rough chill last he wrote. But my nephews are doing great, getting bigger by year those two." The knight answered with clear pride in his voice.
"I hope they can make it to the festivities."
"I assure you they will, my Lady." The Corbray knight gave a deep nod to her aunt before his dark brown-eyes looked around the many men that made part of their retinue. “I see you brought a good number of knights to safeguard your travel, my Princess, nonetheless I have already organized a host of Valemen to follow after you the rest of the way.”
“Thank you, Ser Cory.” Rhaenyra said, composing herself from the effects the memory of her mother still brought on her. “I have heard many tales how dangerous the clansmen can be.”
“All true I can assure you.” He replied with seriousness. “Come now, my Princess, you all can rest for a bit before continuing on.”
They all followed after the commander, with Rhaenyra keeping pace beside him and eyeing the great Valyrian sword every now and then curiously, she had never seen other Valyrian swords besides Blackfyre and Dark Sister.
“Has there been any raids recently?” Her cousin Adrian asked with interest.
“Just one a few weeks ago not far from here but with autumn here more will happen soon.” Ser Cory replied
“And it will only get worse during winter.” Aunt Amanda said with a sigh.
Rhaenyra knew they were talking about the mountain clans but she still felt lost knowing so little about them, or of the Vale in general. Her muña would tell her about the Vale, mostly tales or history lessons, still Aemma preferred to avoid much talk about the place she was all but snatched from so Rhaenyra avoided asking too much not to cause her muña pain.
Her entourage rested for some hours, Ser Cory ensuring they were given drink and food before going about introducing the knights he chose to accompany the princess, then Ser Steffon went with them to go over their planned itinerary. Syrax remained close by to the awe of all the Vale knights who were seeing a dragon for the first time.
While taking in this first contact with her mother’s homeland, an intuition settled in the pit of Rhaenyra’s stomach again, like the feeling she felt at Harrenhal but weaker though somewhat more urgent. It followed her from when they left the Bloody Gate all the way to the Redfort. She could not shake it but did not know what to do about it.
Aunt Amanda’s husband ancestral seat was not the biggest of castles but it was still a formidable stronghold, and beautiful too with its bright red walls. Lord Emir Redfort was waiting for them, her cousin Rodrik on his right side and what Rhaenyra assumed was the rest of the family on his left side.
Her aunt’s husband might not be the prettiest of men but Amanda Arryn had been luckier in her match than her older sister, was what everyone whispered in the Vale according to Amara. While her mother married into one of the noble and ancient houses of the Vale, their aunt Elys married the brother of the current head of the Gulltown Arryn branch. Just so her children could retain the name Arryn, aunt Amanda had muttered in exasperation.
“Princess Rhaenyra, welcome, the Redfort is yours.” Lord Emir said with a deep bow, the other people doing the same, then he looked up with a kind smile. “It warms my heart to meet more of my dear wife’s family.”
“I would hope so, husband.” Aunt Amanda spoke before going to embrace her lord husband.
“My dear, we have missed you.” He said after kissing both of her cheeks.
“As have I.” Her aunt leaned down to give a kiss to her younger son’s head. “Guess what? Our Adrian is now a knight.”
“Oh that is wonderful news!” Lord Emir smiled widely at his older son. “I want to hear all about it, son. My girl, come here, I’ve missed you too.”
“Papa, I’ve missed you too.” Her cousin Amara murmured after hugging her father.
It made Rhaenyra both envious and happy to see this family reunion, they clearly have a better relationship than her family ever did.
“See to it that the rest our entourage of knights and servants is well taken care of.” Aunt Amanda said looking over to the group of maids and servants behind the Redforts. "Is everything ready for our stay?”
“Of course it is.” Lord Emir huffed. “For weeks now, I know you do not like any delays.”
“Good then.” Aunt Amanda looked at her with a gentle smile. “Come, darling, let us show you our humble red castle.”
Rhaenyra nodded and followed the family inside. Her aunt quickly went on to introduce the three kingsguards, informing they would again be given quarters close to the floor where she would be staying, and the two Strongs and young Lady Samya Staunton. Then she introduced Rhaenyra to the rest of the Redforts: there was Lord Emir’s younger brother, their cousin with his wife and young daughter, Jessamyn. All of them like the Tullys sported varying shades of red hair.
“How are things in the Eyrie?” Aunt Amanda asked once they stopped in a spacious solar, after touring the castle, for lunch.
“Good from the last letter I received.” Lord Emir replied. “Lord Waynwood replaced me as you suggested. Lord Templeton sent for more knights just in case and Maya, along with ladies Egen and Melcolm are organizing the festivities.” He continued, her aunt nodding in approval. “Lord Belmore’s wife and sister were supposed to join but I have not received word if they have travelled to the Eyrie already.”
“And Elys?” Amanda asked, expression shuttering at the name.
“Her and her spawn scampered off back to Gulltown, I made sure of it like you asked.” He answered with a scowl, then scoffed. “The Graftons and the Arryns of Gulltown were most sorry for not keeping a closer eye on them, of course.”
“Of course they are.” Adrian said rolling his eyes. “I bet those two are involved in aunt Elys and Arnold’s schemes.”
“Did Lord Grafton died?” Rhaenyra spoke after observing the conversation in silence, she remembered the old lord had been master of ships before Lord Corlys took over the position.
“Yes, Princess, a while ago. And unfortunately his son is of a different sort than his father was.” Lord Emir replied.
“If Elys thinks her good-brother Gaudard really wishes to see her son as the Lord of the Vale instead of his own son, she is very mistaken.” Amanda said scowling too. “And Lord Grafton would support him too instead of Arnold… Gods it’s as if she did not learn nothing from father.”
“What do the Graftons even gain with allying with them, anyways?” Her cousin Rodrik questioned exactly what she had been wondering.
“Something to do with their wealthy, no doubt.” Amara commented.
“Let’s not think over this matter anymore.” Aunt Amanda said before putting her hand atop Rhaenyra’s. “A little respite from all this politicking and backstabbing is why Rhaenyra came here for.”
She smiled at her aunt, though she did not mind knowing more about the goings and intrigues of the Vale, Rhaenyra’s mind could not let go of that feeling and thoughts of Baela. The rest of the meal passed by with lighter topics with her aunt talking about the places they visited along the way and then Adrian all proudly told about his knighthood to his father and brother.
Afterwards, Aunt Amanda took her, Lucile and Samya to their chambers, they were going to stay in the same floor of her cousins’ rooms, and asked her to sleep some since she looked really tired. Rhaenyra was unable to sleep though, the silence of the the room only made her mind grasp onto that feeling, that intuition even harder. How she wished she could have the gift Daenys the Dreamer had so she could truly understand this feeling.
“What is wrong, my darling?” Aunt Amanda asked after entering her room, door closing behind her.
Rhaenyra had been so lost inside her own mind she did not even notice the time pass nor her aunt knock several times on the door before finally entering.
“I… Do not know, aunt.” She answered honestly, sitting up on the bed and bringing her knees to her chin. “I just… I have this feeling something may not be right with Baela.”
“You miss her, sweetie, that is understandable.”
“It is more than that… I cannot explain, I just…” Rhaenyra trailed off not knowing what to say.
“You Targaryens are a special bunch.” Amanda said chuckling. “I guess if it was wise for your ancestor to follow Daenys the Dreamer predictions, we should heed yours too.” She caressed her niece’s silver-gold hair. “I will organize for us to leave on the morrow…”
“It would take too long.” She said, her aunt’s words strengthening her resolve.
“Rhaenyra, you could not possibly mean to fly all the way to Runestone.” Amanda looked at her niece in disbelief. “You would not know how to even get there.”
“It is the fastest way, aunt… And Syrax knows the way, she can get me there.” Rhaenyra was determined, she knew what she had to do now.
“Darling…” Amanda sighed, the Targaryen and Arryn stubbornness combined in one person, no wonder her niece has such a strong personality. “It is an almost five days travel by road. You would have to fly for more uninterrupted hours than you ever had, it is not safe.”
“Syrax can do it.” She insisted, tugging at her bond with her girl for confirmation and thankfully receiving the same determination as an answer. “She has flown all this time, more than she ever did, she learned a lot. My girl can do it. I have to do this, aunt, I need to get to Baela.”
Despite her better judgment, Amanda did not have the heart to deny her niece this and if her intuition was corrected and something bad happened to her little cousin while Amanda held Rhaenyra back, she knew her niece would never forgive her. Amanda has too much to atone for to fail this early. And so it was settled and the two went to inform the others, the princess’ knights more specifically who Amanda was sure were going to throw a fit.
--
Early the next morning Rhaenyra watched Syrax land on the courtyard of the Redfort in all her yellow-golden scaled glory, a look in her bright green eyes that reflected the same look in Rhaenyra’s lilac eyes.
Her Kingsguards had thrown a fit, Ser Steffon refusing to let her go and even evoking the king’s orders do whatever was necessary to keep his daughter safe. It did not deter Rhaenyra at all. Thankfully Ser Harwin was the one to propose a compromise, the Strong heir was sure if only the four of them rode hard to Runestone they could get there not that far behind the princess.
So in the end Rhaenyra had her wish granted. The three kingsguards and Ser Harwin left during the night in brand new and well rested horses, Vale bred horses trained for the terrain and rough travel.
Now it was time for Rhaenyra to leave with Syrax rested and well fed. She put on her thickest riding leathers, a thick shift over it and then Amara lent her a winter coat, it was sure to be really cold that high up in the air. She said her farewell and apologized to both her aunt for causing her worry, and to Lucile and Samy for leaving so abruptly, promising to be careful until they met again at the Eyrie.
Rhaenyra mounted Syrax and in a minute her girl was swiftly up in the air, nimble body soaring higher and higher, with just a little nudge in their bond Syrax acquiesced to Rhaenyra’s request and soon the two of them were flying towards Runestone. Flying to Baela.
Notes:
Rhaenyra: We can do it, aunt, fly for hours on end for the first time!
*mentally nudges Syrax worriedly* Can we?
Syrax: Hell yeah babe I can... Try 😎
They are the best duo alright ❣️This chapter was supposed to be a bit bigger and have the Rhae&Baela's reunion but since I wouldn't be able to write that on time to post today, their reunion will be on the next chapter! Along with Vaegon's arrival at the Red Keep and more of Daemon in the Stepstones 🤗
Sorry I had to rush through the rest of the tourney and the other Riverlands houses 💔 I did my best for it to be a 'nice' and sensible rush 😅
Magic is a very relevant aspect to this fic but I won't be doing anything too big or over the top with it, I'll explore it in a more subtle way and w a mysterious vibe alright 😉
That said, reminding you Rhaenyra is not really a dreamer in the full sense of it, she just has a really good intuition/sixth sense that is made stronger by the magical bond w her dragon, and depending on some things that intuition can express itself in dreams. Like when she was super mega stressed and worried that she "dreamed" about Baela being in danger and now thanks to the still strong magic of Harrenhal weirwood and the proximity to the Isle of faces she "dreamed" again.
But since these are not proper Dreams she is unable to make full sense of them beyond just "knowing" that something might be amiss 🥰Btw, I do not remember if Lord Grover lost all his sons or what but I think it's sorta implied by the time of the dance he has just Elmo as heir 🤔 In any case, Grover's sons here will eventually go puff hahahaha And since my lads Kermit&Oscar were only born after year 110, logically to me makes sense Elmo to be a pre teen at this time 😅
One OC Corbray and the Lady Forlorn ❣️ And yes I'm going w the route that most of the Vale is all mighty proud and respectful to have a half Arryn as future Queen 😌 In the book sadly they are not explored much beyond being loyal to Rhaenyra and sending men to fight for her nor if Rhaenyra paid them any mind. So I'll write my spins on that!
And the Elys&Arnold usurping plot thickens 🫣Any guesses what might be going on at Runestone that Rhae's sixth sense is red flagging about Baela again? 👀
Let me know if you liked it!! Kudos and comments are very welcomed and appreciated 🥰
See you in the next chapter ❣️
Kisses 😘
Chapter 32: Author's Note
Chapter Text
Hello lovelies 🙃
Long time no see huh? I’m sorry about this “disappearance” and lack of updates 😞 This a/n is to explain a little about the reason for that and my plans moving forward. I’ll leave this up for now but will delete it once actual new chapters are posted sometime in the future. And since idk who follows all three or just two or just one of my fics, I’ll post this same note on all three 😅
First things first, I will not abandon my fics alright❗ I have total intentions and wishes to finish all three of my stories. It may take a while longer for me to go back to update new chapters, an even while longer for me to finish these stories depending on life but I’ll get back to them and finish them all. Hopefully at least some of you babes will be patient and still be around when I return for good 😊
So, I haven’t been writing nor updating because my life became a total wreck. What was just some bad days turned into awfully disastrous weeks/months. My old job was destroying my mental and physical health, it sent me into a deep depressive crises which was bad enough that my usual coping mechanism were not enough anymore (writing and reading fics/reading and watching things/listening to music). Safe to say I had less than zero drive nor creative to write 💔
I had to quit the job before I took some other drastic measure if you know what I mean and I did that before I had other job line up to start right away, so I was without income and depending on my mom who lives in another state and has her own financial problems. I almost had to move back home, I almost became actually homeless. It was some dark and troublesome months. Thankfully fate and life decided to stop beating down my already very down person (down as in all the way to the earth centre 🤡). I recently was able to find a job so I still have a roof over my head and did not had to go back to the abusive household I grew up in. Fingers crosses this job works out better and I get to keep it for some good time so I can stabilize myself again 🤞🏽
Long story short, things are still a bit rocky, I’m still getting back on my feet. It will take a little bit for that to fully happen but I’m emotionally/mentally starting to feel better than I was feeling a few weeks ago❗ I believe now I will be able to slowly get back to the world of fanfiction ‘cause that is my #1 coping mechanism and healthy distraction. Like I said though it will still take a hot minute for me to return entirely, I won’t start writing just yet since creativity is not back but at least I’m in somewhat of a brighter place now and have hope to get some stabilization back to be able to start soon.
I have not yet sit down to fully plan these stories moving forward tbh. I’m not sure if I’ll simply pick up from where I left and continue on or if I may re-read chapter by chapter to maybe change things around a little 🤷🏾♀️ Depending on what I decide a re-do and/or repost may happen. Likely not on ADragonsRevenge since it’s still on the very beginning but maybe with SevenDevils & HIAB, it’s not something decided yet though.
Furthermore, thank you all who have read, left kudos and comments, and bookmarked my stories. I have read all comments, sometimes even reread them all whenever I needed a bit of light in these dark times ❣️ I’ll soon get to answer the comments I haven’t yet. I’m posting this because I just wanted you readers to have some explanation since as a long time reader myself I know how hard it is when an author simply vanishes for good, we wonder and then we worry about them❗ So leaving you guys without no explaining these last few months did weight on me and that is why I decided to post this a/n 😙
I hope to see you guys still around next time I come to actually update these stories 🥰 It had been a great ride thus far and there is still a lot for us to enjoy together ‘till the finish line of each fic❗
Love & kisses to all of you my readers ♥️😘
Pages Navigation
Aphroditedany on Chapter 1 Sun 23 Jul 2023 05:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Sun 23 Jul 2023 04:09PM UTC
Comment Actions
elenistica5 on Chapter 1 Sun 10 Mar 2024 07:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Sat 16 Mar 2024 12:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
pyromiyuve on Chapter 1 Sun 23 Jul 2023 08:18AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Sun 23 Jul 2023 04:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
Fayte2008 on Chapter 1 Tue 25 Jul 2023 09:59PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Wed 26 Jul 2023 01:09AM UTC
Comment Actions
AyameSasuke on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Jul 2023 01:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Jul 2023 01:58AM UTC
Comment Actions
RiyaChar on Chapter 1 Sat 19 Aug 2023 08:50PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Aug 2023 04:08AM UTC
Comment Actions
NiaMalfoy on Chapter 1 Thu 05 Oct 2023 12:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Mon 09 Oct 2023 10:26AM UTC
Comment Actions
darthsakura on Chapter 1 Sun 05 Nov 2023 08:55PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Tue 07 Nov 2023 04:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
Paty40 on Chapter 1 Mon 10 Jun 2024 03:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 1 Wed 12 Jun 2024 09:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
UndeadSiren on Chapter 1 Mon 04 Nov 2024 09:05AM UTC
Comment Actions
Whoisjohngalt on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 01:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 10:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
Aphroditedany on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 04:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 10:20PM UTC
Comment Actions
Account Deleted on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 01:39PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Mon 24 Jul 2023 10:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
pyromiyuve on Chapter 2 Tue 25 Jul 2023 06:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Tue 25 Jul 2023 09:39PM UTC
Comment Actions
culfincarnata on Chapter 2 Tue 25 Jul 2023 07:57AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Tue 25 Jul 2023 09:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
sic on Chapter 2 Wed 26 Jul 2023 10:40PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Thu 27 Jul 2023 12:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
sic on Chapter 2 Thu 27 Jul 2023 12:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Thu 27 Jul 2023 01:56AM UTC
Comment Actions
SlytherinQueen021 on Chapter 2 Sat 02 Sep 2023 10:57PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Sun 03 Sep 2023 03:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
SlytherinQueen021 on Chapter 2 Sun 03 Sep 2023 05:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 2 Sun 03 Sep 2023 07:13PM UTC
Comment Actions
darthsakura on Chapter 2 Sun 05 Nov 2023 10:11PM UTC
Comment Actions
UndeadSiren on Chapter 2 Mon 04 Nov 2024 09:21AM UTC
Comment Actions
UndeadSiren on Chapter 2 Wed 14 May 2025 06:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
culfincarnata on Chapter 3 Thu 27 Jul 2023 04:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
virgo_gemini on Chapter 3 Fri 28 Jul 2023 06:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation