Runaway Princess - Serendipity (jenjaemrens), jenjaemrens (2024)

Chapter 1: I

Chapter Text

Valyrian will be in italics.

She dreamt often these past few weeks. Memories of her younger, carefree days when the only sadness she knew was being denied cakes. Or being forbidden to see Syrax.

Now grief cloaks her like second skin. Her mother, the most precious person, was gone. Lost because she was not enough for her father. She hated it. She hated him. He took her mother. He exiled Daemon. He took whatever family she had and left her to grief all alone while he locked himself up in his rooms.

She wanted to leave him there to die.

Except she dreamt.

It was her mother. Rhaenyra wanted to cry. She wanted to beg her to come back.

‘I’m alone. I’m so alone mother.’

Her mother smiled.

“A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.”

Daemon had often said those words before. Her uncle reminded her that they were the blood of the dragon. They must stick together. Even during her mother’s funeral Daemon had told her how her father needed her.

She had lost her mother and she was a child. She should not be the one to lift this burden.

But her mother was the love of her father’s life. Even in anger and grief she could not deny the love he had for her mother. Even if the love was overshadowed by his need for a son.

So Rhaenyra woke up from the dream and donned a gown in black. One of her mother’s old gowns from when she was Rhaenyra’s age.

She walked out of her room, Ser Criston looking surprised to see her but merely followed her.

The Kingsguard outside her father’s chambers looked surprised to see her.

She didn’t see how they exchanged looks tinged with terror and wariness.

“Princess, His grace should be resting I-”

“I just want to speak to my father. It won’t take long. I order you to open the doors unless my father has explicitly commanded you to keep me out. I am the Princess of Dragonstone.”

The guards exchanged uncomfortable looks but they stepped aside.

Rhaenyra did not know what she expected to see in her father’s chamber.

Or maybe she did.

She expected to see him read. Or, work on his model. Or, even sleep.

She did not expect to see her father and her best friend, her sister in everything but blood and name, sitting together holding hands. On her father’s bed. Her mother’s bed.

Her father looked at her. Alicent looked at her.

She stared at their conjoined hands.

Hands that quickly unjoined when they saw her.

She sees them look at her in surprise and then watches as it melts to horror and guilt.

Guilt.

She feels numb at first.

And then she feels anger. Hot, raging anger consuming her whole. Distantly she feels like she can hear Syrax roar. She wonders if she spews the fire that rages through Rhaenyra right now.

“What is going on?”

She would like to say she was calm and composed.

She would be lying.

She screamed.

Her father tried to approach her but she jerked away from him. His touch poisoned her. Alicent begged her to listen. That whor* who wormed her way to her father’s chamber, his bed, not even two moons after her mother’s death was begging her to listen.

“Get the f*ck away from me!” She screamed at Alicent who tried to touch her. To calm her. “What the f*ck are you doing here?”

They stammered. Excuses and lies pouring out of their mouths but none of them would soothe her. None would satisfy her.

“I was just…I was reading Rhaenyra I swear-”

“You swear?” Rhaenyra laughs, an ugly vicious laugh. “You think I would believe what a whor* has to say to excuse herself?”

“Rhaenyra!” Her father shouted while Alicent flinched back as if Rhaenyra had slapped her.

Good. Alicent had ripped out her heart.

The commotion drew people even as the Kingsguard tried to keep them out. Servants, lords whoever was near rushed to see what had the heir to the throne scream the way she did. They were awarded with the view of the King and Lady Alicent Hightower, wearing a beautiful gown of midnight blue and tears cascading down her face, while the Princess stood opposite to them, her face red with fury and grief and betrayal.

The whispers started then. Soon they spread through the whole keep.

Lady Alicent Hightower was warming the King’s bed not even two moons after the death of the beloved Queen Aemma. The Princess found out and was heartbroken at the betrayal.

Everyone was disgusted.

Everyone except Otto.

While this may not be the way he wanted to achieve his goal he could not deny it worked to his favor.

It was the very next day that the announcement came to nobody’s surprise.

King Viserys Targaryen would marry Lady Alicent Hightower.

Rhaenyra had raged last night. This morning she stood cold and silent in the throne room in front of her father while Otto Hightower stood to his side along with his daughter. A barely seen victorious smirk on his face. Rhaenyra wished she hadn’t stopped Daemon from cutting off his head.

“It has not even been two moons since mother died.” Rhaenyra said.

Viserys winced. “Rhaenyra I have no choice. After last night I must do this to honor Alicent-”

Rhaenyra laughs again. “Honor? What honor does a whor* have? One who climbs the bed of a man so soon after the death of his wife.”

“Rhaenyra you will cease this at once!” Her father shouts. Alicent pales even more.

Rhaenyra sees her fingers. She sees them bleed. Once she would have rushed and scolded her and wiped the blood away. She would try to make Alicent laugh to take her mind off things that haunted her.

Now she would gladly make her bleed more just like she makes Rhaenyra’s heart bleed.

“If the truth hurts his Majesty then perhaps you should have made sure to not take measures that would not lead to this.”

“Rhaenyra..”

“You would do this to me. After I lost my mother?” Her voice cracks. She wishes it didn’t. She wishes to be more like Daemon who swallows his grief and spits out poison.

But Rhaenyra is still a child. She is only fifteen and she is an orphan. Her father who was meant to be on her side now pushes her away.

Her father’s face twists in pain. A part of her cries at that. She loves him so much. He was the one she reached for as a child. He was the reason for her first steps. She loved him the most as a child.

“Rhaenyra… you must understand my child. I must do this. To protect her.”

Her. He wants to protect her. Not his own daughter. But this green whor*.

Rhaenyra steels herself.

“Then you must choose. Her or me.”

Her father pales. Alicent stills.

“I will not call her my Queen. I will never bend my knee to her. I will not accept her. If you choose her you lose me father. Your child or your whor*.”

Seconds pass by. They feel like hours. Years.

Then her father stands up straight. He looks at her firmly.

“I am your King and I command you to stand down. You will accept what your King has decided. I will marry Lady Alicent Hightower and she will be your Queen. I will see you in the Sept standing and accepting her into our family.”

She feels a single tear roll down her eyes. But no more.

She has shed all tears for this man. He will have no more. None of her tears or smiles. She slaughters the little girl inside of her that craved her father’s love and approval. She rips apart the memories of her childhood in his arms as he told her stories of their home, Valyria. She kills what was once Rhaenyra Targaryen and burns the child inside of her into ashes.

“She will never be my family. She can have our name but she will never be a dragon. And whatever child she will bear will be a bastard and a snake.” She spits out.

She ignores her father’s calls as she storms out.

She makes her way to her own chambers and sheds the gown she wore in favor of her riding gear. She would not stay here and watch her father marry that whor* in a false ceremony. She would not kneel to any Queen that was not her mother. She would not call Alicent with the title that belonged to her mother and that was one day meant to be hers.

Not that she gave a f*ck anymore. They could all burn. This Keep. Her father. The memories in it. Alicent.

The whole of Westeros.

She makes her way towards the carriage prepared to take her to Syrax.

“Rhaenyra!” she hears someone call her.

She knows who it was.

She turns to see Alicent. She wore a red gown today. The red of Targaryen.

Rhaenyra sneers.

Alicent stays back and her eyes dart around. Her hands were even more bloodied.

“I… can we please talk?” Alicent whispers.

“We have nothing to speak of.”

“Please.” She begs. “Please let me explain I.. give me a chance. We are friends-”

“Were. We were friends. I wouldn’t sully myself by being friends with a whor*.”

By now everyone near them was listening to their conversation even as they pretended not to. Rhaenyra didn’t care if her father found out. She was going to be out of his way soon. He can have his whor* and her bastard snakes and Rhaenyra would laugh when this House burned to the ground by the Andal whelps Alicent would have.

“Can we please talk somewhere else?”

“Whatever the King’s mistress has to say to me can be said here. It’s not as if your status is a secret.” Rhaenyra smirks.

The whispers grow louder.

“Rhaenyra please.” Alicent cried, tears streaming down her pretty face. “I had to. It was my duty.. My father… you must understand please I never-”

“Duty? How hypocritical of you. You don on the seven pointed star of the faith and preach about your gods to me and yet you forget what your own gods tell you. Tell me did your Mother and Maiden and whatever else tell you to be a King’s mistress?” Rhaenyra taunted.

Alicent says nothing. She only looks at Rhaenyra as if she was the one in pain.

Lying, pretentious bitch.

“You can wear the black Targaryen cloak. You can wear the crown but know you will never be a Queen accepted by the people. Everyone knows you for who you are and that is what they will call you. The Royal whor*.” Rhaenyra laughed.

Then she turned around and walked away to the carriage.

“The dragon pit!” She commanded.

She holds a satchel in her hand. She had told Ser Criston it was food for her flight. She did that sometimes. Take some sandwiches or cakes when she rides Syrax.

But today it contained gold. Not enough for a long life but enough for a while until she figured out what her next step was. She has a dragon. She will find ways to earn more. She knows the Free Cities would offer her gold in return for the protection of a dragon.

Rhaenyra takes flight on Syrax. She looks at King’s Landing one last time.

Then she never looks back.

Daemon didn’t know what he expected when he received a letter from his spies in King’s Landing. Perhaps tales of how it was all the same. Maybe Otto Hightower miraculously died.

It certainly wasn’t that his brother was caught with the Hightower c*nt’s daughter in bed. Or that it was his niece who caught them.

Or that his niece took her dragon and flew away from King’s Landing and hasn’t come back.

He doesn’t know what to do.

So he laughs.

Mysaria looks at him as if he lost his mind.

Daemon stares at the missive in his hand and laughs and laughs.

Then he throws it into the fire and grabs a bag and fills it with the necessities needed for his flight.

He has too many friends and contacts in Essos compared to others. They’d graciously accept him into their homes and offer their golds should he ask them.

He knew his niece better than his brother knew his own daughter. He knew where she’d go.

Daemon doesn’t even need to call for Caraxes for the dragon to appear. Caraxes and he never required words. He felt Daemon’s call and he answered.

Daemon didn’t bother saying anything to Mysaria. She would leave when she saw Daemon wasn’t back in a few days. Theirs wasn’t a relationship built on love but an understanding.

“Fly Caraxes!”

Caraxes shot up and Daemon laughed.

“To Pentos Caraxes. Let’s find my niece shall we?”

Chapter 2: II

Chapter Text

KING’S LANDING

Rosanne

Rosanne started working at the Red Keep when she was a child. She had followed her mother to work when she found out her father tried to sell her for measly copper stars so he could get his next bottle and there she stayed with her mother growing up and learning the ways to serve the royal family.

Like today during the banquet of the wedding of the King to his new Queen.

“His whor*.” the kitchen maids snickered. “The royal whor*.”

The Royal whor*.

That’s what Lady Hightower was named. No one said it to her face but everyone whispered it behind her back. Rosanne knew that the Queen knew what people called her. She knew and she couldn’t deny it.

Not when everyone in the keep heard and saw what happened that night.

Not when they saw the Princess hurl those words at her face before she vanished.

“Can’t blame the Princess for leaving.” The cooks sniffed. “A year has not passed and the King takes someone to bed. Then marries her. The good Queen’s blood hasn’t even dried from her bed.”

Rosanne had heard the screams of the Queen on that awful day. She was always so kind.

It was horrible to her memory. She would be heartbroken to see the state of her House today. Almost no Targaryens to attend the feast. The Princess was missing. She took to the skies and was never seen again after the day the King announced his betrothal. Prince Daemon was missing as well. He was said to be at Dragonstone but then the next day he wasn’t. Neither his servants nor his whor* knew where he was.

The only ones with Targaryen blood to attend the feast was the Velaryons and Princess Rhaenys. But even the Princess had openly sneered at the Queen. Rosanne and the rest of the hall had watched, laughing quietly, as the Princess Rhaenys barely dipped a curtsy to the new Queen.

Other noble houses looked at the Queen mockingly.

They whispered amongst themselves that she must have been his whor* while the Queen was still alive.

The most notable one was the Houses from Vale. Most not even staying past the wedding to attend the feast. Excuses and lies flowing out of their lips as they made their way out of the palace.

Lady Jeyne Arryn had simply smiled and said to the Queen that dressed in her white wedding dress and said that white was truly her color.

Everyone knew it was a jab. At the fact that she would never be worthy of Targaryen black and how her claims of being pure was nothing but a farce.

Rosanne was amongst those who attended the wedding on the sept. She snuck out and witnessed the ceremony. When the King kissed the new Queen the people cheered, yet even Rosanne, who had never attended a royal wedding before, could tell that the cheers were muted. The jeers in the street taunting the new Queen were louder than the cheers that were ordered from the common folk after seeing their Queen.

“She isn’t even that pretty.” Some snickered. “The whor*s from Lys are prettier. If the King wanted a whor* to warm his bed he should have just bought a Lyseni whor*.”

Rosanne would agree. She had seen whor*s prettier than the Queen. Certainly would be better in bed too unless the King liked dim witted girls.

She walked around filling the glass with wine and heard people whisper. In the very hall that had the King and Queen seated. Heard them look at her in the Targaryen black and circlet of rubies and valyrian steel on her head and snicker.

“You can wear the crown but know you will never be a Queen accepted by the people. Everyone knows you for who you are and that is what they will call you. The Royal whor*.”

The Princess had cursed her for truly no one in this throne room saw a Queen.

They saw a whor*. One far less prettier than the ones on the street and seemed to paint herself as a picture of virtue despite everyone knowing that she was anything but.

When the King raised a toast to his new wife the whole hall echoed.

But they all whispered the real title before they took the sip.

False Queen. King’s mistress.

The Royal whor*.

Jaime Corbray

Jaime Corbray never really wanted to be Kingsguard. The life of a man who wouldn’t marry and wouldn’t have kids wasn’t an appealing choice to him until his father tried to saddle him with an ugly woman from another House.

Then Jaime decided that perhaps men who joined the Kingsguard were right in the head.

So here Jaime was, in the Red Keep in King’s Landing, that smelled like sh*t, guarding the royal family.

The royal family that grew from one to two then to three then four and now five. A sixth on its way.

The Queen was more capable than the old, good Queen when it came to bearing children because in just a few short years she had given the King what the old Queen couldn’t. Two healthy sons and a daughter. All three children are hale and hearty with another on its way.

Yet it was clear as day to everyone that the King cared little about his children with the new Queen. He spent little time with them and over the years that had dwindled to not even seeing them for weeks.

He didn’t pay attention to their lessons or anything they did.

Some joked that the King probably didn’t even remember their names. Jaime would not be surprised if that was true.

The King only cared about his runaway daughter. It had been years and every day that no news about the Princess of Dragonstone was received, it seemed as if the light in the King’s eyes dwindled even more. Years passed with little to no news of the Princess except some moons after she left.

The King had sent guards after his daughter determined to bring her back.

Only a box came with the charred remains of those guards and a note.

Send anyone after me and this is the fate that will be of them.

You may not ride a dragon, your grace, but I hope you do remember how protective dragons are of their riders.

I will not be dragged back to see the fall of my House at the hands of Andals that you sully our blood with.

-R

The King looked at the remains, green in the face as if he wanted to hurl. Jaime was impressed. Terrified but impressed. This is what a true Targaryen was. Dangerous and arrogant. One that didn’t just look like one but also had a dragon to claim herself as a true Targaryen princess.

Which was certainly more than the Queen’s brood. Three healthy children she had birthed but none had a dragon.

The first one, Prince Aegon, had a sickly golden dragon that died in a few short years. Princess Heleana and Prince Aemond’s eggs never hatched.

Jaime knew as the Kingsguard sworn to protect the King and his blood he shouldn’t delight in their misery.

But he was of the Vale and he grew up learning they are loyal to the Arryns. And the late Queen was an Arryn. She had the dragon’s blood but so did she have the blood of the Vale. Jaime’s loyalty was with her and the real heir. Not what this false Queen pushed out every year.

And it seemed even the Gods, old and new, agreed that these children weren’t dragons for they had none of their own.

So Jaime would smother his laugh when he saw the Queen in distress every time her children would return from the Dragonpit without a dragon. She had tried to convince the King to travel to Dragonstone with her children so that they may claim one of the dragons that resided there.

The King denied her request.

Claimed that the dragons there were too wild and dangerous.

The Queen had begged and begged.

Until the King told her Dragonstone was the seat of the heir and it was Rhaenyra’s. That without the will of his daughter he could not take his other children to his daughter’s domain and take the dragons without informing her.

The Queen had paled and hardened.

Jaime knew the Queen was no fool. She must have heard what they spoke of her and her children.

Fale Queen. False Dragons.

They will be no Kings or Queen of ours.

The Queen had fervently made sure to dress her children in the blacks and reds of Targaryen. She wore her circlet of rubies and valyrian steel.

As if to reaffirm that they’re Targaryens.

They were fooling no one.

Targaryens are dragons and these children were no dragons.

Viserys Targaryen

Some nights Viserys would lay awake on his bead, staring at the canopy overhead and thinking of all the mistakes he made in his short yet long life.

Nowadays, it would be most nights that had him contemplate his choices.

Where did it all go wrong?

When he chose to marry Alicent? When he chose to ignore his wife’s suffering and let her suffer the pain of losing a child over and over again? When he killed his wife? When he exiled his brother, letting his daughter suffer alone?

Or maybe it was the very start. When he fought to be the heir to the throne. Maybe if he had relinquished the seat to Rhaenys he’d be happier now. He could have asked her to give him Dragonstone. He’d have lived there with Rhaenyra and Aemma. He’d be happy.

Now he feels like he can’t even remember what happiness felt like.

Every day it feels like the memories of his happier days are slipping away. Some days he’s terrified he will forget how his wife and his child, his only child, looked. Sounded.

His brother was gone too. No letters from him. No word.

Viserys had finally driven him away. After years and years of Daemon coming back every time Viserys discarded him, his brother has had enough and left him.

His cousin, Rhaenys, didn’t leave Driftmark. Even while her husband was working as the Master of Ships, Rhaenys stayed at Driftmark claiming someone needed to watch over it. But Viserys knew the truth. He knew that his cousin had no wish to see what Viserys turned their House into.

Some would say he has a wife and children.

And yet he felt alone.

He looks at the children and sees the Targaryen coloring but it’s as if there’s something separating them from being one.

None of them had dragons. None of them could understand what made them the blood of old Valyria.

He thought of the words his daughter spat out before she left. How she cursed that any children from this marriage would be bastard and snake and not a Targaryen.

It seemed the gods had heard his daughter’s curse and enacted them.

He was left all alone, abandoned by the people he held dear after he abandoned them.

A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.

Viserys didn’t understand it before. He was never alone. He had his father, mother, grandsire and endless uncles and aunts.

Then he had his brother and wife.

Then his daughter.

Now they’re all gone and Viserys is left alone.

Chapter 3: III

Chapter Text

When Daemon Targaryen saw his niece again he was surprised. And pleased.

So very pleased.

He sees her laughing and drinking, drinking, in the streets of Pentos and dancing joyfully as if just a mere few days ago she hadn’t spurned her birthright and her father in a fit of fury and left their home behind.

But here under the twinkling golden light, Rhaenyra came alive in a way she hadn’t since her mother was gone.

Daemon hadn’t intended to really meet her that night.

Or really he didn’t know what he intended to do.

But seeing her laugh he couldn’t help himself.

“May I cut in.” He cut in not even waiting for the answer of whoever she was dancing with.

When Rhaenyra sees him she merely raises an eyebrow and smirks. Perhaps that was the most surprising part about seeing her again.

She looked at him as if she was expecting him.

In fact, she looked a bit annoyed like she did when she was younger and he was late on his journey home.

“You’re late.”

Daemon laughed.

“Were you expecting me Princess?”

“Of course. You said you’d come with me when I left to see the world. You said so. And I’m not a Princess.”

Yes, he had said that. When she was a child, he was once again leaving to run away from his family. She had begged him to take her with him and he had said that when she’s older they can take their dragons and see the world together.

Rhaenyra had held onto it firmly. Demanding he swear an oath.

He had.

Now here they were.

“Not a princess?”

“Haven’t you heard? I threw my title and left it all behind.”

“I didn’t hear your father accepting that. As far as I know you remain the Princess of Dragonstone.”

“You’ll hear it soon enough. Once his whor* gives him a snake with a co*ck between its legs.”

Daemon laughs again.

She was always so vicious. His little dragon. So quick to anger. So quick to burn.

“Snake?”
“You would call someone with that Hightower’s blood a dragon? Here I thought you at the very least would share my views Uncle.”

“I do. I’m surprised you share the same.”
He shouldn’t be. Not after what he read.

“Have you not heard? Or are you pretending to be a fool Uncle? I don’t like it when you pretend.”

Yes. She never had a fondness for playing pretend. Even as a child. And why should she? While other girls pretended to be princesses in their games, she was a princess. She had a real dragon. She was a dragon. She never needed to play those make belief games.

“Not pretending. I thought you were fond of that girl.”

She snorts. “Yes, fond. Until I see her in the bed that was once my mother’s. And then I hear my father say he has to protect her and not me.”

They’re no longer dancing. They stand in the middle of the streets while people around them laugh and sing and dance. And yet they stand here. Two Targaryens so far from home.

But what was home?

Was their home Valyria? Then it was lost centuries before they were born.

Was their home Westeros? The place where they had to pretend to appease men who had no power over them? Now it was lost to them for the one other person who shared their name chose to abandon them.

He sees pain in her eyes. Despite however much she tries to hide it with her smiles and laughter. He sees in her what he had seen in his own eyes for years.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Pain. Loneliness.

Daemon didn’t know what he expected to see when he found his niece. He didn’t even know what he was going to do once he found her.

“What do you want to do, Rhaenyra?”

“Show me the world.”

And so he would.

They get to stay in Pentos for four moons before the guards hired by his brother arrive.

They spot him first. Make their way to him. They think he’s like them. On a mission to look for the lost princess and bring her home.

He merely smiles at them and tells them he has found her.

They looked relieved and thanked him..

They asked him to take them to her so they can escort her back to King’s Landing.

Daemon thinks his niece would rather be eaten by dragons than go back to that sh*t of a city.

But he humors them and takes them to Rhaenyra. She’s on the outer edge of the city near the cliffs overlooking the sea. It’s where Syrax and Caraxes are coiled up together. It’s where they both practice together. She was determined to learn how to wield a weapon.

You cannot always look after me and I do not expect you to either. I am the descendant of Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen. I may not be the warrior they were but I will learn how to wield a weapon.

Daemon could never say no to anything she asked of him. He always tried to make her smile. He bought expensive things for her. He gave in to anything she asked of him.

He hopes this present would amuse her.

“Little dragon look who I’ve brought to meet you.”

Rhaenyra was lounging and only looked behind him when she heard Daemon call for her.

She looks at them and then looks at him.

“Am I supposed to be pleased with this Uncle? If you were going to bring men for me to look at then at least make sure they’re pretty.”

Daemon smirks.

“No greetings for your Father’s guards?”

Rhaenyra sits up straight at that. Behind her, Syrax raises her head and looks at the intruders.

“Oh? Guards sent by the King? For what?”

One of them, the captain Daemon assumes, steps forward.

“Princess, I bear a message from your father.”

He extends his hand holding a letter.

Rhaenyra makes no move to take it. She looks at it as if it’s worthless.

Daemon saves the poor man and takes the letter from him. He breaks the seal and reads the letter. Then snorts.

Rhaenyra,

As your father and King I order you to stop this madness and come home. Enough is enough. You had your fun. You ran and threw your tantrum. It's time you come home and do your duties.

King Viserys

First of his name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men

Lord of the Seven Kingdoms

Protector of the Realm

“Your father bid you return and that you’ve thrown your tantrum. He orders you to return and fulfill your duties.”

Rhaenyra snorts at that. Something that Syrax echoes.

Caraxes is still lying down but he stares at the guards warily.

“And what of his duties as a father? Did he write about that? Or did he forget? Or is duty something that is only for women and somehow the ones with co*cks aren’t shackled by duties?”

Daemon didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to because she knew the answer to her question.

“You may tell my father I have no intention of returning. I am free to do whatever I want as he is free to f*ck whoever he wants. Now leave. You’re unpleasant to look at.”

The guards exchange looks but they don’t back away.

Daemon walks off to the side, amused, while his niece’s eyes steel.

He can see the fire in her eyes.

“Have you not heard me? Leave or there will be consequences. I do not like repeating.”

“Apologies Princess. We were ordered to return with you.”

“Is that so?” She tilts her head and on the side Syrax mimics her. He can even see Caraxes rousing up. But the guards are fools. “And what will happen if you don’t?”

The men exchange glances. They say nothing.

“I will say this one more time. Leave or there will be consequences.”

The men unsheathe their swords.

Daemon remains on the side. He will remain there until she calls for him.

“Are you going to force me to go back?” She smiles, an eerie smile that would scare any man.

Any sane man.

These men are clearly fools.

Out of the four guards, two step forward while two stay back looking at Daemon. They were probably the better fighters. Left to deal with him.

“Well then what shall we do little dragon?”

Rhaenyra stands up. Syrax bristles behind her but stays down.

“My father sent me a message. We should send a reply shouldn’t we?”

Later on Daemon would watch as his niece orders Syrax to burn the men. She is deaf to their pleas. Except for one of theirs. She spares him. Or she says she does.

She uses him.

Makes him takes the charred remains of his friends and watches as he sends the box to King’s Landing through some other men.

Then she takes her dagger and slits his throat. She leaves his body to rot in a dark alley.

“If he lived he’d have sent a message about us. I do not want others to hunt us so easily.”

A better man would have been sickened at this. A better man would have taken her home.

Daemon never claimed to be a better man.

He looks at her and he is delighted.

She is his mirror image and for that she is the one he loves the most.

They leave Pentos the very same night.

They made their way to Tyrosh.

Rhaenyra insisted she wanted to see Tyrosh and so Daemon took her.

By the time they arrived in Tyrosh it was her name day. Her first since the death of her mother. Rhaenyra had locked herself in her room the whole day. That night Daemon had coaxed her out, slowly and painfully, and took her out to see the city.

He showed her the bright streets of Tyrosh. The food and the colourful hats.

He rolls his eyes when she giggles at his displeasure of the Valyrian that the Tyroshi spoke. A low born dialect of a beautiful language.

She ooh-ed and ahh-ed when she saw the bright colored hair of people and Daemon had to quickly distract her lest she try to colour her own hair into some obnoxious color. Although it would help to disguise them and hide them, Daemon didn’t find the idea of Rhaenyra’s hair being anything but the Targaryen silver gold pleasing.

She smiled widely when he bought her jewels and immediately wore them.

Daemon liked to see her smile. Ever since she was a child, Daemon had always strived to do his utmost to see his niece smile. It was the duty of her parents to discipline her but it was the duty of Daemon Targaryen to make the Realm’s Delight smile.

Besides, there was more selfishness to making her smile than he would admit out loud. There was nothing that made him happier than seeing Rhaenyra smile because of him.

It was in Tyrosh that Rhaenyra bloomed. She had always been so lovely but the city made her lovelier.

There were lavish parties held in their honor and they attended every single one. And in every single one Rhaenyra was at the center commanding everyone’s attention. As she should for she was the loveliest of all.

Daemon didn’t, couldn’t, blame that people couldn’t take their eyes off of her.

Daemon and Rhaenyra were always proud of their Targaryen heritage and that didn’t change when they left Westeros. She wore dresses in maroon and red and purple laced with black. She had Syrax embroidered in all her dresses and cloaks as if to remind everyone that she had a fierce dragon that would rain fire on the city should they ever harm her.

Not that anyone could ever dare to. Daemon would cut off the head of anyone who so much as looked at his niece wrong.

But they were foolish to think that the dragon was her only weapon. She had taken to Daemon’s lessons and though he agreed that she may never be the warrior Visenya was, she was adapt at handling daggers. Daemon had gifted her a beautiful Valyrian steel dagger (which he may have taken off the body of a dead man) and strapped it to her thighs.

(“You’re a Targaryen. You’re above them and you must not be afraid to remind them if anyone ever dares to forget that.”

Daemon had kneeled in front of her as he tightened the dagger and made sure it wouldn’t nick her.

Rhaenyra had merely stared at him. Awed that he would kneel in front of her.

Daemon would make the entire kneel in front of her should she ask.)

“Uncle.” Rhaenyra calls out, holding out her hand.

She stands in the middle of the room, cheeks flushed, hair in disarray as the music plays. She holds out her hand, urging him to take it.

And Daemon was helpless.

When it came to Rhaenyra he was always helpless.

So he took her hand and let her pull him in.

Their happiness in Tyrosh only lasted for five more moons before they hear the news.

The Queen has given the King a son.

Daemon watches as Rhaenyra stiffens and excuses herself.

He orders the servants to not approach her. Even for food.

She’s a dragon and she will kill anyone who tries to get close to her now.

It was silent for hours before it began.

He hears loud noises. Crashes.

He waits.

Waits until it goes quiet and he hears a gut wrenching sob before he approaches her room.

Inside it’s chaos.

Dresses shed. Jewels scattered. Shards of glasses.

And in the middle of it Rhaenyra.

Red eyed, tears streaming and screaming.

Sometimes it was so easy to forget she was only sixteen. No mother and abandoned by her father.

Daemon knows that feeling.

Daemon silently gathers her in his arms and takes him to his own room.

He holds her the whole night. Whispering the stories he told her when she was a child. Singing old valyrian lullabies.

The next day they leave Tyrosh.

Chapter 4: IV

Chapter Text

King’s Landing

Alicent Hightower

Duty.

That was something that had been ingrained into Alicent since she was a child. She was so young when she lost her mother but her mother had always taught her to be dutiful. To be faithful to the Seven. To be honest and a good daughter to her Lord Father.

She had held those words close to her heart when her mother was gone and her father had whisked her away to King’s Landing.

Duty.

It was duty that had her dress up in her mother’s dress and make her way to her best friend’s, her sister’s , father’s chambers.

It was duty that made her go there repeatedly every night even if she did not want to go.

It was duty that made her wear white and allow the black cloak to be put around her even as she still remembered the last words she had thrown at her face before disappearing from her life.

A curse.

She had cursed Alicent and she had left Alicent. Abandoned her just as Alicent had done to her.

Now she hears whispers everywhere. She sees how people bow and curtsy when they see her but she sees the mocking tilt of their lips and the sneer on their face when they call her by her title.

Duty.

It had cost her everything.

Her friend. Her honor. Her happiness.

Her father had said it would pass. Once she bore the King a son, the rightful heir, people would forget what happened.

If only her father was right.

She held Aegon a few moons later and as she stared at the child, her child, she felt nothing. She had suffered hours of agony and months of humiliation for this child and she could not even find it in herself to feel any sort of affection for him. This was her child. She created him and she hated him.

Her father looked so proud of her. Once she had craved for this but now she feels like she could barely care for it.

Her husband had barely looked at the child. He had agreed to her father’s suggestion of naming him Aegon and then walked out. Alicent could barely feel anything for her child and her father but she could feel resentment for this man. She did this for him. Went through the battle and survived to give him the son he had his wife cut open for only for him to walk away so easily.

Her father was happier when she was pregnant again and Aegon’s egg hatched. A little, golden dragon. It looked pitiful but her father was confident it would grow.

This would strengthen his claim.

Alicent wanted to laugh.

What claim? Even now Viserys was adamant that Rhaenyra was his heir. He refused to acknowledge the fact that Rhaenyra had no intention of ever coming back. He turned away the charred corpses she sent back. He sent guards after guards, spent gold after gold to find his daughter and yet beyond a few whispers there was no word of her.

Then she gave birth to her daughter. The only daughter she would ever have and her father was happy at that too.

He means to use her hand to gain support for her son. Alicent had realized that early on.

He was confident that her child would sit on the throne.

He seemed to ignore the whispers of the people in the Keep.

“Servants and peasants don’t have armies. The Lords do.”

But it was also the Lords who sneered at her. They mocked her.

Her one safe place was the sept. She’d be on her knees and pray to the Mother to help her find peace. She’d pray to the Crone for wisdom and she prayed to the Warrior to give her strength for she may not carry a sword but she was fighting a battle. It was the one place she could find peace until she heard what the Septas were saying.

“The letters from the other Septas are horrifying.”

“Noble ladies caught trying to sneak into the chambers of High Lords. It is vile.”

“I read that they claimed that since the Queen can whor* her way into the bed of the King and the crown then they can do it too. They said that since she is a Hightower who is the most devout then that must mean it is not a sin.”

“I heard the High Septon was furious. He was disgusted at officiating the wedding.”

“Would you not be as well?”

Alicent had run to her chambers and vomited.

She clung to her father’s words desperately and they turned out to be fake. Nobody would ever forget what Rhaenyra had cursed her to be.

As the years passed the whispers grew louder. Their faith that Alicent and her children were undeserving grew stronger when her son’s dragon died. The only egg that had hatched because the others turned cold in the cribs.

Her children were dragonless Targaryens.

“They’re Hightowers.” People hissed. “They’re no dragons.”

She wanted to scream at them. Is that so bad? Is it wrong to be a dragonless Targaryen?

Her husband was one and yet they obeyed him. Why must her children suffer through words that her husband doesn’t?

She sees the grief in the eyes of her children. She sees their shoulders hunch and tremble under the whispers.She had begged her husband to let her go to Dragonstone. Her father had urged her to as he grew more and more desperate. Viserys had refused. He claimed that Dragonstone was his daughter’s and they cannot claim anything from that island without her.

Alicent wanted to stab him.

He only cared about Rhaenyra. If he only wanted her then why did he make her have these children that he would never care for?

“Alicent you must insist again. We need dragons.”

Her father grew more and more paranoid every single day. Without the dragons the Lords were less likely to look at Aegon as the heir.

“If Rhaenyra comes back she would have her dragon. And she’d have Caraxes.”

Caraxes. Prince Daemon. Rhaenyra’s beloved uncle. Alicent never made a comment about him after the one time Rhaenyra had glared at her when she told her what her father had told Alicent about him. Her father had called him a whor*mongering, vile man. Rhaenyra had refused to talk to Alicent the entire day until she apologised for what she said. Rhaenyra had loved him fiercely and, even Alicent could admit this, he loved her just as fiercely. Every time he would leave Rhaenyra would cry. And every time he would come back, Rhaenyra would run to the window, eyes gleaming with happiness when she'd see Caraxes. She would run out of the room, ignoring the guards and septa calling for her to go to the gates where she knows Prince Daemon would be arriving with gifts for her. Alicent had learned to keep her jealousy hidden when she'd seen the pretty dresses and shiny jewels that the Prince would bring for his niece. Rhaenyra was a princess who was used to getting whatever she demanded and it was always Prince Daemon who would make sure that Rhaenyra always received whatever her heart desired.

If Rhaenyra comes for the throne then Daemon would burn everything blocking the path to it. He would present it to her wrapped in pretty lace and shiny jewels just like her presented her with gifts all these years.

Her children were the blockage.

Her children were defenseless because they had no dragons.

And should Rhaenyra come back she had no doubt that she would have no mercy for the children she claimed would be bastards.

Braavos

Laena Velaryon

Laena loved flying. It was something she had loved ever since her mother took her on Meleys. She was born a Velaryon but sometimes she felt as if she had more of her mother’s Targaryen blood in her than her father’s Velaryon blood.

That didn’t help her hatch a dragon egg but she didn’t let that deter her. She didn’t go to the pits despite her mother encouraging her to claim a dragon like her brother had claimed Seasmoke as a hatchling. She knew she would have a dragon someday. A dragon that had more glory and history to it than the ones waiting for her in the pits And finally her patience had paid off because she claimed Vhagar.

Her mother and father were proud. Laenor sighed but she could see the pride in his eyes and in his grin that he failed to hide.

She rode the biggest and oldest dragon in the world. The mount of Queen Visenya Targayren, the warrior Queen and wife of Aegon Targaryen. Yet she was not allowed to be in battle along with her brother and father.

She had Vhagar but because she did not have a co*ck she was sent away.

Her father had argued that she was being sent to Braavos to secure an alliance. Her mother to join her in a week to deal with whoever they were meant to deal with so that they could secure more funds and in turn more soldiers to fight for them at the Step Stones.

She wanted to join her father and brother. She had begged but they refused.

“You’re young and you’re not trained enough.”

She wanted to argue but they wouldn’t let her speak.

“The money and swords from Braavos is just as important as burning their fleets Laena. We must get it to end this war.”

She had only relented when her mother asked her. So she mounted Vhagar and took Joffrey with her because Laenor insisted she must have someone who can guard her. She would wait at the residence of the Sealord for a week when her mother would arrive.

She knew this meeting was also about trying to seal this alliance through marriage. She had been sent particularly so that she could meet the son of the Sealord of Braavos. A prospect she wasn’t excited about as there was more things in life that she wanted. She knew her fantasies were silly and girlish but she had watched her mother and father's love. She wanted a love and relationship like that were she would be treated like a person and respected. She wanted to see the world more before she had to be sold to Braavosi for coins and swords.

Joffrey had tried to cheer her up with tales of Braavos and all the things they could do until her mother came to Braavos. She adored him for his effort.

They were welcomed at the Sealord’s palace and they were informed that a feast was being hosted in their honor. Laena highly doubted that but she thanked them graciously and followed them to the rooms prepared for her. She had scrubbed herself to make sure she did not smell like a dragon, dressed in her prettiest dress of sea green and made her way with Joffrey by her side to where the feast was being held.

She had an idea of what she would face here. Her mother had taught her since she was a child how to do politics. She would be faced with people who would see a pretty girl and underestimate her. They would see her dragon and see it as a treasure for their own profit. Her mother had told her to let them think what they wanted and to let them see what they wanted. It would be easier to manipulate them if they thought Laena was a doe eyed fool.

She entered the hall with a smile.

Her smile faltered when she saw the guests.

For the Sealord had invited many to this feast including two people she had not seen or heard about in a very long time.

At least, it was soothing for Laena to know that she was not the only one surprised as Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra look just as surprised to see her.

Chapter 5: V

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra had gone so long without seeing anyone from her family (aside from Daemon) that she was a bit stupefied when she saw Laena again in years. The last time she had seen Laena, she was only a girl of twelve name days. Now she was almost fifteen and even more beautiful than she had been.

She knew that the Sealord was looking for a bride for his son. For a while that foolish boy even tried to court her before she viciously beat him into the dirt during practice. Daemon and her had laughed for hours remembering the embarrassed look on that boy’s face. She knew that the Sealord was hoping to get a Princess, especially a dragon riding one, on their side. Whatever child she gave birth to would have an egg in their cradle and if the gods were kind the egg would hatch. A dragon riding princess with her dragon riding children was tempting to anyone.

She didn’t realize that they’d turn their eyes to another person. Laena may not have a dragon yet but she was a Targaryen. Any child of hers would have the Targaryen blood and with that they’d have the ability to claim dragons.

They politely greeted each other but Rhaenyra was sure that Laena had nothing to speak to them of. They were never that close. She was content to talk with the other guests and inquire about what was happening in Braavos. She had only been in Braavos for a few moons and yet it was already her favorite out of the three cities she had seen so far.

It wasn’t beautiful but there was something charming about the city. She loved the city even with its gray and dreary weather.

So she was keen on knowing the happenings of the city. Her and Daemon had a tendency to run when things turned a bit sour for them and she’d try her best to make sure that they could stay in Braavos for as long as possible. If that meant gaining allies by making sweet talks and occasionally helping the Iron Bank collect the debts owed to them (and in return owing Daemon and Rhaenyra favors) then she would do it.

She wasn’t paying attention to the conversation Laena was having until Daemon spoke up.

“Vhagar?”

Rhaenyra turned.

“Yes.” Laena smiled. “I found her and claimed her.”

Daemon and her exchange a quick look before Rhaenyra looks at Laena and smiles.

“Congratulations cousin. I am so happy for you. Flying is truly one of the greatest joys in life.”

Laena smiled at her. “Thank you Princess.”

Then Rhaenyra looks at her uncle again and sees how he looks at Laena. Calculating and cold. Rhaenyra, too, lets the smile slip off her face. She knew what he was worried about. Should the order come to Laena that she was to escort Rhaenyra back to King’s Landing then things would not be so pleasant. Moreover, it wouldn’t be favorable for them either if Laena were to be betrothed to the Sealord’s son. Rhaenyra knew quite well about the relationship all the nine free cities had with each other and the occasional wars that would break out over land, resources or other things.

Daemon and Rhaenyra needed those wars. Those wars gained them allies. Agents from the cities would come ask them for help. Even the Iron Bank in secret had asked them and paid them to collect debts owed to them that the borrower wasn’t keen on returning. It gained them favors that the other cities owed them. If Braavos gets Vhagar it would make things harder for them to gain favor in this city. It would also give Braavos more of an advantage than it already had over the other cities.

One thing she knew for certain.

Laena Velaryon could not be allowed to marry the Sealord’s son.

She had asked Laena to join her for a walk around the city the next day.

“You should see the city. Perhaps we can even take a flight around.”

Laena had eagerly agreed and Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. She could at least relate to Laena’s excitement of wanting to explore new places. She thinks that maybe something all the Targaryens shared. This joy and want to fly off to faraway places to see what lies beyond the borders of the places they called home.

At least, she smirks, the ones that have dragons. Her father was always content to stay inside that ugly Keep and read. He does not get what it means to be a dragon.

“You and I are dragons, my little dragon. We cannot be shackled by the words and laws of lesser men. We are free.”

Rhaenyra smiled remembering Daemon’s words.

She would show Laena the beauty of the city she loved. She takes him to the mummers' plays and giggles with her when they see someone impersonate the Sealord and his foolish son. She walks past the brothels and points to the ones with the prettiest courtesans that she knows.

When asked if she met any of them Rhaenyra had only smiled and winked.

She took her to the port and bought fresh oysters from the boatman that had just returned. Laena had watched her curiously as she casually conversed with the people in the port.

When Laena had asked her if she would ever come home Rhaenyra had sharply looked at her.

“Did my father send you?”

“I doubt the King knows I’m here. No, just… do you not miss home?”

Rhaenyra snorted. Home. What was home?

“You want me to see my home being infested with those Andal filth and whatever half breed that whor* gives birth to? Then to see those same half breeds be given dragons they do not deserve?”

She had heard that Alicent’s bastard had a dragon. Daemon’s spies had informed him that Otto Hightower had boasted that the boy had a ‘beautiful, golden dragon befitting the House of the Dragon’. Rhaenyra had shattered the wine glass she was holding before dragging Daemon to their courtyard to fight against him. She found out that one of the ways she expressed her anger was violence. Daemon delighted in it while her maids would sigh at the destruction she’d cause.

Laena looked confused. “Dragons? What do you mean? Do you not know?”

“Know what?”

“The Prince’s dragon died. It was a sickly creature. It died. He has no dragon. And I heard that the new Princess’ dragon egg has gone cold.”

Rhaenyra stopped and quickly looked at Laena to see if she was lying. Laena stared at her confused.

She was telling the truth.

Rhaenyra laughed. The first good news she had received from King’s Landing and it was from Laena herself. Perhaps her cousin was pleasant company after all! She was clearly a blessing sent by the gods to deliver this good news to her.

Then she took her to her favorite inn and bought a bottle of wine before dragging her out of there.

“To Aegon! Son of the royal whor* and the dragonless Targaryen!” She cheered before sipping her wine. Laena stared at her gobsmacked until she too started laughing with Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra laughed with joy as she entered her and Daemon’s manor and saw him reading.

When he saw her, he stood up and looked amused to see her slightly drunk and giggling.

“Did you enjoy your day out with Laena so much that you’re already drunk?”

“Did you know that the bastard's dragon died? Alicent’s child is no dragon uncle. The Andal boy’s dragon was sickly and it died. And her daughter’s dragon egg didn’t even hatch.”

Daemon had merely huffed in amusem*nt. Shaking his head at her joy.

Daemon let her drink more and laughed with her. He relented when she spun around the courtyard with him, humming a song she heard one of the bards in the street sing.

Her father had his whor* and his son who was no Targaryen and he was miserable.

Rhaenyra had Daemon. She had her world right here in this manor with Daemon’s arms around her as they swayed. She needed nothing else. She would see the world with Daemon and Daemon would never leave her.

She knew that she was the most precious to Daemon. She was always the most precious to Daemon.

As he was always the most important person to her.

Why go back to Westeros? That was no home to her.

Her home was right here in Daemon Targaryen’s arms.

Chapter 6: VI

Chapter Text

Braavos

Laena Velaryon

Laena had never been close with her cousin, Princess Rhaenyra, while she grew up. She had lived most of her life on Driftmark under the care of her mother despite the fact that her father was frequently in King’s Landing due to his position as the Master of Ships. She assumed her mother didn’t like the Red Keep that much. Her mother had her memories of her parents there, both of whom she lost, and not to mention bitterness at being passed over for the throne.

Still, their presence was required at the court at times and she remembers seeing the princess during those few times. And even those few times, she rarely ever interacted with the Princess. The Princess already had a friend in Alicent Hightower and she seemed content with that. That’s why Laena never approached her.

She always thought that Princess Rhaenyra was beautiful. Even as a child everyone could see that Rhaenyra would one day grow up to be a beauty.

And she truly was a beauty. She thought the Princess was a delight when she’d see her smiling and dancing at court but here on the streets of Braavos, the Princess was truly the beauty that everyone claimed she would one day be.

She quickly took Laena around the city, showing her what the Princess claimed to be her favorite parts of the city. She took her to so many shops and they bought so many dresses. They would fly on their dragons, racing over the endless water. They would sit down on dry sand and sip on wine while they watched the sun set.

At night, she would dress Laena up in the pretty dresses they bought and take her to the streets where the bards and musicians would line up to sing.

Laena couldn’t help but envy her. The Princess gave up a throne and people would call her a fool. But was she a fool? She gave up the throne but she was happy. She smiled more. She danced more. She could be whoever she wanted to be.

Laena thinks it’s the people who consider that a loss to be fools.

She had seen Prince Daemon more times during her stay in Braavos than she’d seen him in Westeros.

She remembers glimpses of him during all the feasts she’d have to attend. She heard stories about all his actions and his ways. She knew that he was the best dragon rider in their family and her mother had told her that the one thing Daemon Targaryen was loyal to was their family.

She sees that now.

He rarely ever joined her and Rhaenyra during their day time activities but during their night outs, the Prince would be there with his arms around the Princess. He’d steer her to make sure she was never pushed by others. He humored her with all she wanted.

Sometimes it would feel like she was an outsider watching two people from afar. It felt like a world where just the two of them existed and they couldn’t see anyone but each other. They moved around each other. Gravitated towards each other. Their eyes would constantly seek for the other and so would their hands. Rhaenyra would look at him as if he was the sun, the stars, the moon and the answer to everything. And Daemon…

The Rogue Prince would look at her as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world. The Prince had so many riches but Laena suspected that his most prized and treasured thing was his niece.

“They love each other.” Joffrey said, looking at them in awe and amusem*nt.

Laena couldn’t deny that.

Growing up the only kind of love she’d seen was her parents. Theirs was a love that resembled the sea on a bright, sunny day. Soothing and calm with a cooling, salty breeze and the warm sun on your face.

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s love seemed like the tumultuous storm Laena had faced once as a young girl on board with her father. Terrifying with rough waves. Harsh winds and freezing rain. Dark clouds with thunder and lightning.

It was devastating.

It was beautiful and she couldn’t turn away from the storm.

She couldn’t turn away from them either. There was something so beautiful and captivating about the way they were.

“You love him.” Laena didn’t ask her. No, she stated it as if it was a fact.

“Who?”

They were watching a play about two lovers running away from their families who were trying to keep them apart.

“Daemon.”

“Of course I love him. He’s my uncle-”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Rhaenyra doesn’t look at her. She keeps on looking at the play. The lovers are now in a new city where they have no one who knows them and no ties to their past. Free to be who they are.

“We are Targaryens.” Is what she says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Then what do you want?” She seemed frustrated now.

“For you to be able to tell me what’s on your mind. Just as I have told you what’s on mine.”

She had told her of her problems. The endless war on Step Stones. Her father’s wishes for her to marry the son of the Sealord. Her dreams to see the other cities and beyond Essos. Her wish to fall in love with someone and marry that person.

“I had someone like that once. Someone I could share secrets with. She stabbed me in the back.” She replied coldly, her eyes flashing.

Targaryens were said to be Gods. Dragons. Sometimes she looks at Rhaenyra in a certain light and she would feel as if Rhaenyra was a dragon in a human body.

“Well,” she smiled, trying to ease her. “your father is married so I think we can safely assume I cannot, and have no interest in, climb into his bed.”

Rhaenyra snorted and Laena breathed out.

She didn’t want Rhaenyra to be mad at her. She liked her company. Her mother had sent her a letter saying she would not be able to come to Braavos just yet and to wait for her for a few days longer. She didn’t want to spend those days without her friend.

“I don’t….” Rhaenyra whispered softly, hesitating. “I don’t know. How do I define what love is? Or the kind I feel for him? I have loved him my whole life. Did my love for him change? I don’t know. All I know is my whole life I knew there was Daemon and he would always be there. Asking me whether I love him seems like a pointless question.”

On the stage the two lovers spoke their vows and kissed.

The crowd cheered.

“I have never known a day in my life where I did not love Daemon Targaryen.”

“My mother will be arriving soon. Two more days I presume. Three at most.”

Laena was with Daemon this morning. They were both checking on their dragon. Rhaenyra had offered her an apology and said she had something urgent to do and would be unable to join her. She instead said Laena should take Daemon with her on a ride.

Daemon never said no to anything Rhaenyra asked and Laena could only agree.

Now here they were. Laena checks on Vhagar and the flimsy ropes to help her climb while Daemon checks on the Blood Wyrm.

“Hmm.” Daemon answered. “Why say this to me now?”

“Because neither of you two seem interested to see someone from Westeros. Especially those related to the King. I may keep things quiet but should the King ask, my mother would have to answer.”

He said nothing.

Daemon was harder to read than Rhaenyra which was already a challenge for Laena. Which means she could not read this man at all. He was handsome but terrifying. A dragon himself. In better circ*mstances she might have tried to woo him. He was everything a girl would dream of. Handsome, charming, proficient in fighting and he was well spoken. Laena knew he wasn’t kind but he wasn’t cruel either. At least, she knew she would be an exception to his cruelty because she was of Valyrian blood unlike his lady wife. She knew she was better than the sheep he was forced to marry.

But she also knew that even if he picked her she would be his second choice. She doesn’t think she wants to be anyone’s second choice.

“So you want us to run?”

“I am telling you my mother will be here. Whether you choose to run or you choose to stay and meet my mother is up to you and Rhaenyra. I only say that should my mother meet you then she must try to bring you back. With force if needed.”

Daemon didn’t reply. He merely climbed on Caraxes’ back and Laena followed him on Vhagar. Daemon rode his dragon wildly. Swooping through the air with an agility that her old beast lacked. He didn’t need to shout commands for Caraxes to fly the way he wanted to.

It was hard not to be mesmerized by this sight.

Later on, they both landed on the shores of a small island that had the boat to carry them back to the main city.

“I’ll miss this city.” She admitted.

“You can fly whenever you want to.”
She scoffs. “I’m afraid I’m not as lucky as you, my Prince. I cannot vanish that easily. Although I suppose this might be my home soon.”

She didn’t see the way Daemon looked at her.

“I suppose that’s a thing we have in common.” She smiled at Daemon. “We both must marry people we have no love for for the sake of our families.”

“Marriage is a political arrangement. You can do what you want once you are married.”

Laena laughed. “For men. For us women marriage is just another cage. A pretty looking one if you’re rich but a cage nonetheless.”

Laena stared at the setting sun. She breathed in the salty breeze.

Freedom is slipping away. She can feel it slipping away like sand.

“I suppose Rhaenyra is lucky. She ran away from the cage. I wish I could too.” She whispered.

No other words were exchanged as they made their way back to the main city.

That night Rhaenyra, Daemon, Joffrey and Laena made their way onto the barge of one of the many famed courtesans of Braavos. She did not know how Rhaenyra and Daemon managed to do this. All she knew was that this was an opportunity not many had and she was adamant on seizing it.

The courtesan was from YiTi and her name was Dusk.

“Well that’s what they call her. No one knows her real name.” Rhaenyra had whispered.

Laena thinks she might be one of the most beautiful women she has seen in her life with hair as black as night and eyes just as dark. She smiled and slightly bowed to her guests. They weren’t the only ones invited. She could see other people as well. Although the guest list was clearly sparse and exclusive.

Laena had listened transfixed, as the woman played her silver gold harp skillfully and sang so beautifully.

Laena did not understand a word she sang in. The language of YiTi was not one known to her. Then again, the only languages she knew were Common and rudimentary Valyrian good enough to command a dragon. But whatever this woman sang sounded so beautiful that Laena could not take her eyes off of her.

By the end she was clapping as loudly as she could.

When they were all getting ready to leave, she saw Daemon talking to Dusk. On her side, she sees Rhaenyra clench her fists and turn away from the sight.

She pulled Rhaenyra away.

Laena pulled her away to the streets outside where the musicians and the street singers were already singing. Braavos was a city that came to life at night. She pulled her among the throngs of people and they danced till they couldn’t stand. They pulled Joffrey and Daemon with them. At one point she had danced with Daemon and Rhaenyra kissed Joffrey on his cheeks.

She would miss this. She would miss Rhaenyra so much when she would leave Braavos. She wished that Rhaenyra would stay in Braavos once Laena married and moved here. They could go and drink. They could watch plays and sing and dance.

Maybe she could live somewhat of an adventurous life even if it was bound by marriage to a man who did not know what it was like to have dragon fire in you. As long as she had a friend who could understand her and race with her on dragonbacks then maybe there was some hope.

They all giggled as they walked Laena and Joffrey back to the Sealord’s manor.

The last thing she said to Rhaenyra before she walked away was, “You should tell him how you feel. Trust me.”

She smiled.

The next morning Prince Daemon Targaryen and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen were gone.

They left in the dead of the night without informing anyone.

When Laena woke up a letter was waiting for her.

Dear Laena,

I must apologise for not saying my goodbyes. I’ve never been good at them and goodbye seems so final. I don’t want this to be my final parting with you,

Thank you for telling us about your mother. Although I must admit that Daemon might want to see his cousin and I, my aunt, we know what precarious position we would put her in should she see us. It’s easier to say she has heard of us than to say she saw us and was unable to bring us back.

Should you ever want to speak to me, send your letters to the manor we lived in on Braavos. They will make their way to me.

Thank you for being my friend. I have greatly missed having one. I hope someday we can both fly together again.

Yours,

R

Laena stared at it for a while.

Then she smiled.

Her mother came the next day and she greeted her mother happily. When her mother had heard that Rhaenyra and Daemon were here she looked at Laena.

Laena merely smiled at her, saying nothing. She offered no explanation or excuses. No apologies either. She would not apologize for what had been the most exciting days she had in years.

The Sealord’s son refused the proposal but they agreed to aid them against the triarchy.

The Iron Bank easily accepted their deal and agreed to supply them with the money they needed.

Her mother stared at her.

Laena only looked East.

Rhaenyra

“I’ll miss Braavos. We should visit again.”

They were riding on horseback. Their dragons were flying somewhere in the sky. It was better to ride a horse than fly a dragon when you’re running, Daemon had told her.

“Not for a while at least. Unless some job calls us back.” Daemon reminded her.

She nodded.

She whistled a tune as they journeyed.

She wondered how Laena was right now. She didn’t think she would like her cousin but she did.

Enough at least that she snuck into the Sealord’s son’s room after her and Daemon dropped off Laena and held a dagger to his throat. That fool almost wet himself when he saw the smile on Rhaenyra’s face and her valyrian steel dagger.

He whimpered pathetically when Rhaenyra had quietly told him he was to refuse his betrothal to Laena but he would make sure his father allied himself with the Velaryons.

“If you fail I will come back and cut out your guts then string you up with your intestines.”

He nodded and sobbed.

She walked out after that.

Daemon had gone to the Iron bank to call in one of the many favors owed to them for all the debts they collected for them. None of those ever led up to them or the Iron bank. The Iron bank would side with the Velaryons in this war.

She does not know how much she helped Laena but she hoped it was enough.

It had to be.

She wanted to repay her cousin back for the kindness she showed them. For letting them go and live the life Rhaenyra and Daemon chose. For listening to her speak the words that she buried in her heart. For understanding her and not judging her for the love she had for Daemon when she knew many, even her own father, would be disgusted.

“So where are we going now?”

“You choose.”

Rhaenyra looks at the map in her hand then smiles.

“Volantis.”

Chapter 7: VII

Chapter Text

They had arrived in Volantis late at night and Daemon had ushered her inside an inn, The Merchant’s Inn, quickly and she didn’t even have the strength to take a look around before she fell to her bed.

She woke from the sound coming from underneath the

Rhaenyra had woken up that morning from sounds that seemed to come from beneath the floor. They had arrived in Volantis late at night and Rhaenyra was too tired to look or ask for anything except the name of the inn.

Merchant’s House, Daemon had told her with a slight sneer, proclaimed it to be the best inn in Volantis.

She only realized in the morning light why he had called it so because truly the room she was given was ghastly. Not to mention a bit smelly.

She truly hoped they wouldn’t have to stay here for too long.

Out the window, she could see the Long Bridge and even from this distance it looked claustrophobic. One shack on top of another and it went on for rows and rows. She knew that the people moved about constantly there. She wondered if those people could even take a breath properly because of how cramped it must be.

Daemon had left early in the morning. He said he had to meet someone urgently but she didn't need to stay in the inn the whole time. It’s good he said that because she was going out regardless of what he said. It’s just good that he didn’t disapprove of it.

Still she made sure to prepare properly. She strapped on her daggers and covered her hair. She knew that if needed she could call on Syrax and she’d swoop in. Then she changed into her dress.

She expected it would be a bit cooler outside.

She was wrong.

The air outside was thick and heavy. She could already feel the sweat collecting on her brows. But she still marched on. Daemon had sneered when he looked around the place and something about his look told her that they would probably not be staying in this place for much longer.

So she explored.

Rhaenyra has already been in 3 cities before this but it’s the first time she’s ever been somewhere that has so many different people from so many different cities. The square is too busy, too chaotic, and there’s too many people. It’s too much to take in all at once and she’s overwhelmed by it.

She was wearing a dress that was fitted for the heat of Volantis, meaning it was loose and more freeing but she sees people in so many different outfits here. Outfits that clearly signify that they were from other places. Other cities and countries far North or South that she would one day, hopefully, get to see.

She could see them. She could go to lands beyond and fly over them. She could do so much now and there really was nothing stopping her except Daemon. But he would never stop her. He would roll his eyes at her request but in the end he would relent. He always does.

She sees the Long Bridge again and she was tempted to go but that was the one place Daemon had asked her not to venture alone. She supposes she can listen to him. This time.

She looks over to what the end of the bridge connects to.

Old Volantis. She heard of the Black Wall. She knew that the people who lived in Old Volantis are only those who have blood of Old Valyria in them and that anyone but them are not allowed to step foot inside unless invited in.

Rhaenyra scoffs.

She and her uncle were Targaryens. The last of the dragon lords of Valyria to have survived. Out of the 40 families only they remained and her and her uncle were the only Targaryen dragon riders. She has more valyrian blood in her than those inside the wall.

She continues her walk around the square, occasionally pausing when she sees something eye-catching and contemplating whether to buy it or not. She bargains with the traders, buys food from the vendors, eavesdrops on conversations (only few as there are people here speaking in so many different languages it makes her jealous to know she only spoke two).

She doesn’t think she could love this city even half as much as she loved Braavos but she could like it.

She stays out until it’s almost noon before she ventures back to the inn to meet Daemon.

She enters his room, expecting to see him alone.

He isn’t alone.

Immediately she can feel the same churning anger in her stomach. She can feel it rise up and she clenches her teeth to not lash out. She is used to this. She is used to seeing Daemon with other women who are beautiful. Women who are free and not shy to touch him and beckon him to them while she has to think a thousand times before she reaches to hold his hand. Women like Dusk and other courtesans in Braavos. Sometimes, he’ll tell her to go on while he stays. Sometimes, he drops her off at their place before he goes back to them.

The only saving grace was that she has never had to see the whor*s or courtesans he’s f*cked brought into their shared space. Now it looks like that grace has been taken from her too.

“Rhaenyra.” He sees her and smiles.

She tries to smile back and hopes that it doesn’t come out as a grimace.

“Come meet your aunt.”

That’s when the woman looks at her and the hood covering her hair falls.

She sees the silver hair first. The same shade that is so common in her family. Then she sees her eyes. The purple eyes that are of old Valyria and her family.m .

Oh.

This was a Targaryen.

“Princess Rhaenyra. An honor to meet you at last. I am Nymeria Targaryen. I suppose I am your aunt.”

Daemon Targaryen

“I did not know I had another aunt here.” Rhaenyra muttered in the palanquin.

Daemon smiled at her. Rhaenyra never liked surprises. She never had the patience for it. She’d go scouring in his room for all her gifts when she was young and it was no different now. Only that she was grown and no longer destroyed an entire room looking for her things. She was better at it now.

But she still grumbled if Daemon had something over her.

Like right now as they made their ways to the Black Wall and beyond.

Daemon laughed softly while she grumbled on as she glanced at the palanquin in front of theirs. She frowned a bit as she studied it.

Daemon knew she was thinking about Nymeria. She didn’t trust her. She’s only going along because Daemon trusts her.

And he knows Rhaenyra doesn’t like that. Rhaenyra doesn’t like it when other women get close to them.

He had seen Rhaenyra’s face change when she entered the room. He sees the way she glares at the women who step close to him. He knows she looks at him every time he leaves her at one of their places to go to a whor*.

He knows why she does that too. He wasn’t stupid. Some things are too obvious for one person to not take notice of. Rhaenyra’s feelings for him were too obvious to not take notice of as well.

But noticing something doesn’t mean he has to do something about it. Even if he wants to.

Even if it was Rhaenyra he wanted in his bed and not some whor* whose hair was a silver that almost matched Rhaenyra’s hair. Or a whor* whose eyes were almost the same purple as Rhaenyra’s eyes.

He stopped picking the ones that had valyrian features after a while. It gets harder and harder to resist the urge when he keeps on picking the poor substitute.

But she was still a child. A child who had only just found her freedom and was experiencing the world for the first time. He knew she held onto him as if he was her anchor against the currents threatening to sweep her away.

On some days, he wants to use that and truly bind her to him.

On some days, he sees the sheer awe in her face as she sees something new and wonderful and he thinks it would be cruel to take that away from her. To take her away and hide her away from the world.

So he takes the whor*s. He creates a line between them even if he doesn’t want to. This would protect her. It would save her.

He hears her gasp and looks at her quickly.

Her eyes wide, mouth open as she looks at what’s coming.

The Black Walls of Volantis.

Daemon smiles at her awe.

“Welcome to Volantis.”

Chapter 8: VIII

Chapter Text

Black obsidian walls that were clearly made of Frozen Fire loomed over them as they approached the gates of Old Volantis. Rhaenyra stared in awe as it grew larger and larger, dwarfing everything around them. Those were the largest walls she has ever seen. She wonders if The Wall up North in Westeros was this huge.

The palanquin didn’t stop. It marched on while others around them were stopped around the gate.

They weren’t of Valyrian blood, Rhaenyra thought.

But they were. All three of them that are entering this city were of old Valyria.

She knew that Daemon was staring at her. He had grinned and said, “Welcome to Volantis.”

He watches her now as they pass through the thick walls of the Black Gate and enter the city that most people can never see. She’s going to see old Volantis with Daemon.

She smiles at him excited. He rolls his eyes fondly.

She thinks she can tolerate Nymeria as long as it means they get to see the whole of Volantis. It never hurts to have a connection even if the connection is a very pretty woman who looked pretty by Daemon’s side.

Nymeria takes them to their manor. Which is an insulting word for the house as it seems more like a palace than a manor.

“Mother is currently in Lys. She shall arrive in two moons. Until then it’s just us.”

“What about your brothers?” Rhaenyra asked.

She smiled at her as if she said something funny. “My brothers are all useless. It is a blessing if they’re not here. I find that men are mainly useful for showing off their brawn and not their brains.” Nymeria smirks at Daemon. “Apologies, cousin. I meant it as no slight towards you.”

Daemon rolls his eyes at her. He doesn’t do it with the same sort of fondness and humor he does with Rhaenyra but his actions are similar to how he used to be with her father.

More like siblings and less like something more.

It pleased her.

“Come dear niece. Let me show you to your chambers. Your uncle may find his way.”

Rhaenyra could do nothing but let herself be dragged as her aunt grabbed her hand and pulled her.

She looked back at Daemon in panic but he only shrugged.

She was on her own.

Nymeria Targaryen

Nymeria grew up listening to stories of her family out in the west. But her mother never told her those stories fondly. No, she always told them with a smirk and laughed as she said so as if the people she left behind were all fools. Nymeria had heard enough about them to agree with her mother.

They were fools. Unable to use their powers properly. Letting others dictate them on how to live their lives. She would never be that Targaryen. She was her mother’s daughter. Saera Targaryen who spat in the face of her father the King and ran to Essos and made her own path. Who laughed in the face of all the rules imposed on women and decided she wanted nothing to do with that.

She would be like her mother and make her life. Her mother had once said she was a Queen when her brothers foolishly tried to go for the Iron throne and Nymeria would be like her mother. She is her mother’s daughter and one day she will rule the way her mother does.

She had no intention to meet any of the family until she met Daemon Targaryen in Lys. She had heard someone call out for him. She looked around and saw him.

She had heard rumors about him.

Rogue Prince. Vicious. Cruel.

She was almost disappointed to see he was just a pretty face. A pretty face who can fight but a pretty one nonetheless.

But he had surprised her. There was cruelty and viciousness in him. A restlessness in him that she could understand. He was nothing like her drunk foolish brothers.

So she kept in contact with him. He was useful for things if she needed something and in return she would return the favor.

Until a few moons ago when he had sent her a letter saying he would visit Volantis soon and would like her to make arrangements for him to move to Old Volantis. She had no issues regarding that. Volantenes were proud of their valyrian purity like Daemon. He would fit right in with them.

Except he didn’t come alone.

She had heard rumors. The King had crowned his daughter as his heir and then the heir ran after finding her father in bed with her lady in waiting. She and her mother laughed upon hearing the news.

“It seems that daughters running away after their father abandons them runs in the family.”

Now the Princess was here in her halls.

She was pretty. Extremely pretty.

If Nymeria was a lesser woman she would have been envious but she was not. She could tell the Princess did not like her. She had glared at her when she saw her stand beside Daemon. Not even after Daemon’s introduction did her glare soften. Not that the relation mattered. They were valyrians. They married family members.

She just found it amusing how obvious the girl was. She would have to learn how to hide her emotions better if she wanted to survive.

“Where is your dragon, niece?”

“Somewhere close but not too close. Syrax will find me if I seek her.”

“I would love to see her sometime.”
The Princess had looked at her curiously. Studying her. She nodded after a while.

“Perhaps we can go out of the city and I’ll take you to meet Syrax. I do not think it would be good to bring Syrax in the city.”

Nymeria laughed. “Perhaps not yet.”

“Yet?”

“Soon the people of old Volantis will know who you are. They will know you have a dragon and they will want to see it. You might want to use that.”

“Use it?”

They both stopped outside a chamber that Nymeria had prepared for the Princess.

“Fear Princess. I am sure your uncle taught you the efficiency of using fear to make people understand their place? You need to do it here as well. Volantines are divided in two. The ones who use words to get their way and the ones who use their fists. You must use your dragons to get your way here Princess. Otherwise you might as well stay locked up in this room.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Why indeed. She looks at the girl who is so young. So alone with no one but her uncle to keep her afloat and she thinks that it is wrong. It is wrong to hold onto one person to keep you afloat in this world that was cruel to women.

“So that you learn to protect yourself. A dagger isn’t the only way to protect ourselves.”

Nymeria starts to walk away. “There are dresses for you inside. Do change. I shall take you out to the city. Oh and,” she looks back to see the Princess. “I must ask that you do not glare so harshly every time you see a woman close to your uncle. I may not harbor illicit feelings for him but you must not give power to other women over you in such ways.”

She didn’t need to keep looking at the princess to know she was scowling at her.

Nymeria smirked.

It was getting boring here. Things would get interesting.

“You run a brothel?”
“Brothels. More than one. Many. In different cities. In all the nine cities and beyond. We even have a few in Westeros.”

“In Westeros? How come I never heard?”

“Do you make it a habit of keeping track of brothels Princess?”

Nymeria watches the Princess blush and avert her gaze. Still so shy despite being a girl of ten and eight now.

“No. I’ve never been to one.”

Not surprising. She was a princess. Her virtue to be guarded and treasured like the most priceless jewel. She must have been taught that her duty was to please her husband and have children.

What a joke.

“If you want to go to one you must tell me. I can take you to one. Here in Volantis. We have quite a few establishments. I’m sure they’ll be,” she smirked at her. “To your liking.”

To her delight the girl blushed deeper but she looked intrigued. She can work with that.

“I don’t know if my uncle will be pleased.” She mumbles.

“And why does that matter? Is he your keeper? You must not let your feelings for him hinder you in the things you want. Especially if you want him. You tend to hesitate too much. Aren’t dragons supposed to take what they want?”

“Dragons do take what they want but humans are scared to be abandoned. I’ve been abandoned enough times.” She retorted coldly.

Ah.

“If you live with hesitation and fear then one day all you’ll have left is what ifs, Princess. We are all bound to die one day. Would you rather die with regrets?”

The Princess says nothing and stares out at the palanquin watching the people walk the streets of Volantis.

It was only two days later that Rhaenyra came to her with a determined look on her face.

Nymeria grins knowing what is to come.

Chapter 9: IX

Chapter Text

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon didn’t expect Rhaenyra to like Nymeria so easily. He had expected the same process that went with Laena. She would be wary and pretend to be friendly for a while and once she saw that the other woman had no intention of doing anything to her, she would be more accepting.

Except Rhaenyra had easily liked Nymeria.

She trailed after her and was seen laughing with her. They were out in the city so often.

It was good to see Rhaenyra happy like this. Daemon knew she enjoyed Laena’s company and now she was enjoying the company of her aunt.

Until two days later he arrives back at the manor to find out that Rhaenyra was gone.

“Where is she?” He asked the servants.

“The mistress took her along with her.”

“Oh.” Not surprising. They were often out in the city going around in the palanquin and eating whatever caught Rhaenyra’s eyes. “Where did they go today?”

“The Silk House.”

Daemon stopped walking and quickly turned to the servant. The eyes of the young girl widened and stepped back.

“Wha- Where did you say she took her to?”

“The Silk House, my Prince.”

“When did they go?”

“I…”

“When.”

“I do not know.” The girl trembled under his glare.

The Silk House. The most renowned brothel in Volantis. Known for having pretty women and men to serve the ones who enter. Nymeria was taking her there. To let her see those people.

To let them see her.

To let them touch her.

Daemon could picture it in his head. Some unknown man touching Rhaenyra. Caressing her hair. Kissing her.

Daemon snarled as he seized the horse.

If he could he’d take Caraxes and burn that whor* house down instead.

When he arrives he pushes past the guards at the door and enters. He shuffles through the room to look for Rhaenyra until he sees her.

And then he lunges.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Nymeria had taken her to the brothel she had in Old Volantis.

“It is cleaner than others. You might want to visit this one before we take a look at the others we have in new Volantis and other cities.”

She watched transfixed as the men and women moved.

She sees men with women. Men with men. Women with women. She sees two people together. In some there are three. Some are more.

Some aren’t even laying with others but simply watching the show and drink

Rhaenyra gulps as she watches a woman pull the man she was sitting on top of closer and kiss him passionately.

“They teach you in those terrible places where you live that lying with a man is for duty. To have children. You see the lies? Pleasure is for all of us, dear niece. For them. For your uncle. For me. For you. Why deny yourself one of the greatest pleasures of life?”

Rhaenyra doesn’t see Nymeria wave someone over until the man comes in front of her.

Tall. Fair skinned.

Silver hair.

She says nothing as he approaches her with a pretty smile. When he extends his arm she slowly takes it and allows him to pull her in.

He wraps an arm around her waist and with his other hands, he slowly trails it along her cheeks.

“Hello.” He smiles.

“Hello.” she breathes.

“Be nice with her. She is new here.”

“To the city?”

“To brothels.”

Rhaenyra watches as the man’s eyes widen and shine with excitement. His smile widens.

“Then we have to make sure that her first time here is a pleasant one.”

She follows after him, transfixed as he leads her to one of the plush settee. She watches as he sits beside her and leans in close, his lips grazing her cheeks then slowly moving down.

She grips the furs when he kisses the top of her breast before moving back up.

“Have you ever kissed before, my lady?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want to?”

She thinks of Daemon. She thinks of how many times her eyes had drifted to his lips when he smiled or he smirked. How she wanted to trace his lips. How she wonders how it would feel like, taste like , to put her lips on his.

She nodded.

“Would you mind if I were to kiss you?”

This man is not Daemon. This man has fair skin and silver hair. But he doesn’t have Daemon’s snark. He is charming and sweet. He asks for permission.

Daemon wouldn’t ask. Dragons don’t ask. They take. If this were Daemon he wouldn’t ask her. He would pull her and kiss her.

But Daemon isn’t here. Daemon doesn’t want her. Daemon wants his whor*s and courtesans.

So why can’t she want whor*s too?

“No. You may kiss me.”

And then he gently kisses her. She is still. She doesn’t know what to do. He gently caresses her cheeks and coaxes her lips with his. Her eyes flutter shut and she tries to follow his movements. She gasps and allows him to slip his tongue into her mouth when he bites her lips. When he pulls her closer in, she wraps her arms around his shoulder.

They pull apart to breathe in before she pulls him back again, even more desperate right now to feel his lips on her.

Until he is ripped away from her and she sees the furious face of Daemon.

“What do you think you are doing.” He growls.

Common. It’s not a language they use often. It’s one they slip in when they’re mad.

And he was furious now.

Beyond furious.

And she found herself growing mad at him as well. What right did he have to stop her? She never stopped him. No matter how many times she wanted to. She let him live her life so who was he to stop her from living hers?

“Having fun. Why? Am I not allowed to?”

“Here? You want to have fun here?”

“Why?” Rhaenyra smirked. “You do this all the time. You visit your whor*s in those whor* houses all the time don’t you? You practically made the Silk Street your home. Why can’t I do the same here?”

“Get up.” He spits out. “Either you get up and walk out of this place yourself or I will carry you out. Kicking, screaming and shouting in front of everyone.”

Rhaenyra’s face heats up with anger. How dare he. How dare he order her as if she were someone lower than him?

“You put your hands on me I will stab you.”

“You care if I put my hands on you but not if it is the hands of a whor*?”

She wants to scream at him. She has wanted him, his hands, his mouth, for so long now and he has never looked at her. But he would deny her others?

“I will say this one last time, Rhaenyra. Get up yourself or I will do it for you.”

She can see others eyeing them. Nymeria stands away not intervening. She had waved the man away and now only her and Daemon remain in this corner.

She clenched her jaw and stood up.

He grabs her hand and pulls her away with him. She doesn’t see the look he sends to Nymeria but the woman smirks at him and jutted her face out. As if daring him to say something to her.

Daemon marched off with her.

They don’t speak a word until they reach the manor. By then Rhaenyra’s raging anger has cooled down. Not that she was any less angry but that she didn’t feel like she was going to scream at him anymore.

She might just stab him and be done with it.

“What were you thinking?”

So it seems like they were still talking in Common then.

Fine.

“That I wanted to have fun. That I wanted to see what more I could want. Why?”

“So you go to a f*cking-”

“I don’t see what your problem is? Why can’t I? Must I ask for your permission? You’re my uncle. You’re not my father. We are nothing more than that. So I can f*ck who-”

Daemon cuts her off and pushes her against the wall, his hands around her throat, eyes dark and a snarling at her.

“Finish that and I’ll burn down that whor*house.”

“Try it. I’ll find more.” She goads him.

“Rhaenyra..”

“There’s so many more whor*houses. Nymeria would help me find them.”

“I swear-”

“Aren’t there male courtesans in Braavos? Perhaps I should visit.”

“You…”

“On the other hand, I might just take a page out of our dear aunt Saera’s books and f*ck the triarchy. That would be fun.”

She thought Daemon might as well kill her at this point. He looked like he wanted to.

Except he doesn’t.

He leans down and kisses her harshly.

The kiss at the Silk House was soft and pleasing.

This was angry and harsh. Daemon didn’t softly guide her and caress her. Daemon was angry at her. And he showed it.

The way he held her face.

That man had bit her lips softly and gently caressed her tongue with his.

Daemon had only pushed her against the wall and bit her lips harshly, making it bleed as he palmed her ass.

“If you ever even think of… I will burn every whor* house in Essos. I will kill every man who… f*cking hell.”

Oh.

Rhaenyra wanted to laugh.

He was jealous.

She wasn’t the only one burning in the flames of jealousy. It was him too. He was jealous as well.

“If you don’t want someone else to touch me then why don’t you touch me yourself. Otherwise, there’s still time for you to drop me off at the whor* house again.”

Daemon’s eyes darkened even more and Rhaenyra smirked.

The next second he was throwing her on her bed.

“You’re gonna wish you never provoked me, Princess.”

“All talks. Why don’t you prove it?”

He doesn’t give Rhaenyra an opportunity to talk after that.

Daemon Targaryen

It was Nymeria who catches him as he is about to leave.

“Going somewhere?”

“Urgent business in Braavos. Rhaenyra is staying.”

“You should tell her that. Perhaps speak to her a bit more about things.”

She gave him a pointed look.

He looked away. He didn’t think he could talk with her. He doesn’t think he could look at her after last night.

How can he look at her and hold back after last night? How can he stop himself from taking her again and again like last night?

How can he look at her when he can’t stop himself from wanting her?

“Your method of separating the girl from you just to protect yourself will not work. You are too attached to each other. Too dependent.”

“I am doing this for her.”

“You are doing this for yourself.”

Daemon didn’t bother to answer her. They both knew he was doing it for himself. To protect himself.

Because he was selfish. He wanted to protect her from himself but he didn’t want to admit that he wanted to protect her from himself. Lust is easy. Lust is wanting to f*ck someone and getting it out of your system. Lust was Myseria and the whor*s of silk streets and the courtesans of Braavos.

Rhaenyra wasn’t lust.

She was so much more than that.

“Take care of her. I’ll be back in a few days. I’m taking Caraxes.”

She rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t stop him. Cousins they may be but he knows they’re more business associates than family. She respected him which is more than he can say for most people who know him.

So she doesn’t stop him when he walks away.

And if she sees him hesitate on the way out because he thinks of how Rhaenyra would feel waking up alone then he pretends he didn’t.

He walks out of old Volantis and flies away on Caraxes.

Chapter 10: X

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra knew the moment she didn’t see Daemon beside her that he was gone. Not just from her rooms but also from Volantis.

She laughed, dry and angry, because this was Daemon being Daemon. Running away from things when he couldn’t control it. He always did it. He ran away when her grandfather died. He ran away when his marriage was announced. He had to be dragged back every time.

She could do it. She had Syrax. She could follow after him and demand him to come back. She could rage and scream the way he expected she would. She could throw that pretty glass vase against the wall, rip her dresses to shred and destroy this whole room. Daemon was used to that. She knew he thought she would do that.

But she only asked the servant to draw a bath for her and dressed up.

She went out to meet Nymeria, who calmly informed her that her uncle was called for urgent business in Braavos and left this morning.

They both knew it was a lie.

She nodded and thanked her. Then she asked what they were doing today and she almost smiled when she saw Nymeria’s delighted look.

No. She won’t go after Daemon. She won’t cry for him. She won’t rage for him. He will have none of her pain or anger.

She may have given up being the Crown Princess but she was raised as a Princess. She was raised as the daughter of a King and she will not beg. Even if that person was the man she loved.

She was kept busy the next few days with Nymeria. Nymeria showed her around and then took her to her work.

She met up with the men working with the triarchy and they looked surprised to see her. Nymeria had warned her before so she wasn’t surprised when she was called to meet the triarchy.

She smiled prettily at them. Laughed when they wanted her to. Danced around questions. With Nymeria by her side it was easier.

“What about your dragon, Princess?”

“My dragon?”

“We have all heard the tales of your golden lady named after Syrax. However, we have yet to see her.”

“I do not think the people of Volantis will like it if my lady flies down in the middle of your roads and halts the activities.”

“Ah but we are from Valyria. Dragons are one of us.”

Rhaenyra wants to scoff. She exchanges a look with Nymeria who quickly sips from her cup to hide her smile.

The man was right. They were all of Valyria.

But they weren’t made of Fire. Syrax would eat anyone who wasn’t a Targaryen near her.

“Perhaps one day I shall bring my dragon here. But Syrax and other dragons do not like to be contained in one place. Dragons are no slaves.”

Let them think that she will stay here in their city for however long. Let them think they can make them her ally against other people.

“They believe me that easily?”

“Men tend to believe whatever suits them.”

She knew that much.

“Why meet with them?”

“To gather favor?”

“Favor?”

“You think it is easy to run the business that we do? We don’t just run brothels. We trade secrets. We earn favors in return for keeping their secrets and also selling them to the right people. We gather money. Do you know what makes men kneel?”

“What?”

“Money. It is the most powerful thing in the world. Even your father would kneel before the Iron Bank of Braavos. We earn the favor of these people so we can earn money. The more money we have the more they’ll want to be near us. Money is what people need for food. For wars. Without it the economy will fall. We need the triarch to run the business legally and they need us for the money we loan them.”

So she trailed after Nymeria. Learned from her how to talk to others. How to get secrets from the people that worked under her.

“People talk when they feel good.”

And her whor*s always had plenty of secrets to share. They knew who was plotting against who. They knew whose beds the men with wives shared. They knew so much that Rhaenyra was baffled.

There were nights when they both went out to New Volantis and moved with the other people there. She took Rhaenyra to inns and danced with her. She took her to the Temple of R'hllor and introduced her to the Priestesses.

There was power in religion, she said. It gave people hope. It made people do horrifying things.

Rhaenyra knew history and she understood.

Nymeria was not her mother. She wasn’t Laena or Alicent. She was no friend. But she was a mentor who was keen to teach her how to gather power and wield it.

“Why teach me?”

“Targaryen women must stick together, niece. We, who were discarded by the men of our family, need to build our own empire to show them that we do not need their golden crown. We are Queens without one.”

She didn’t know how many days had passed since Daemon left. She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. She had lived with him and only him for two years. Sometimes when she sees something on the street that looks delicious she would look to her side to call Daemon only to see that he wasn’t there. She would dress in the pretty dresses that Nymeria bought for her and she would wait to hear Daemon calling her ‘ gevie’ but she never hears it.

She would hear the music drift in through her windows and she’d remember the nights in Braavos when he would indulge her and let her pull him into a dance with her.

She missed him. She missed him so much that she felt like she might die from it. There was an ache in her that didn’t soothe no matter how much she distracted herself. No matter how many times she trailed after Nymeria and let the whor*s in the pleasure houses kiss her.

She felt like Daemon took the part of her that kept her stable with him and now she was left to float around in this world without an anchor. This didn’t feel like flying. This felt like falling. Dragons weren’t meant to fall.

“How do people live like this?” she asked Nymeria one night when she had a bit too much to drink.

“You’re asking the wrong person, niece. I have never been in your situation so I can’t answer. But my mother used to say that people with our blood feel too much.”

“Too much?”

“Don’t ask me. Mother used to say she heard stories about Aegon and Rhaenys and their love for each other. Queen Rhaena and her female lovers. My grandfather and grandmother. It seems like it’s in our blood to feel too much for someone.”

“I don’t think I like that.”

“Yes, neither do I. I look at you and I feel thankful for that.”

“That is awfully rude.”

“Would you rather I lie?”

“No.” Rhaenyra took another sip of her drink and whispered. “I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I wish he came back.”

“I know.”

“I won’t stab him if he does.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Okay I will try to stab him but I shall not hurt him too much.”

“What a shame.”

She spends her days with Nymeria. On some days, Nymeria would let her look at her records and sort out things that usually would be done by Nymeria. Later, she met with the traders from Lys with Nymeria followed by them reading the reports sent from Lys by her mother.

It was a regular day for her, which meant she had to run around the city on errands and was exhausted. She planned to take a bath and then read the books lent to her by Nymeria until she was about to fall asleep. That was what she was going to do until she made her way to her room and opened the door to see Daemon there.

For a minute she thought she was dreaming. She thought she was so tired from her day she was dreaming that he was sitting on her bed. The same bed he left her alone on.

She had to be dreaming. He couldn’t just come back so easily.

But then she hears him.

“Rhaenyra.”

She wanted to run up to him and hug him.

Instead she merely nodes at him.

“Uncle, you’re back.”

Daemon Targaryen

He expected her to scream at him or cry. He expected her curses. He even expected her to lunge at him with her dagger and try to kill him. It is what she would have done usually. He’s seen her be sad and angry enough times.

She does none of that.

She greets him as if he had stepped out for a flight on Caraxes while she stayed in.

“How was your business at Braavos? Was it the Sealord or the Iron Bank that required your service?”

Daemon didn’t know what to say to her. He knew she didn’t believe that he truly had work. He was aware that she knew he ran away from her because he was too much of a coward to face up to things. Face up to how his feelings for her were too intense.

He had missed her when he was away. Daemon was used to getting up and leaving whenever things were inconvenient for him. He’d usually stay away for a few weeks to months and then return once he had a better control of his emotions. He’d drink and fight and f*ck until he felt better.

This time none of that worked. The drinking and fighting. He didn’t try the f*cking bit.

Well, he did. Tried to f*ck a whor* but all he could think of was Rhaenyra and he walked out. He’d drink and he would think of Rhaenyra and how she would fall over giggling whenever she drank a bit too much. He’d be fighting and think of Rhaenyra’s cheers whenever he won a brawl. He’d fly on Caraxes and he would look to his side where Rhaenyra would always be on Syrax only to see the endless blue sky and white clouds. Even Caraxes had grown used to her and Syrax’s company. He huffed at Daemon every time he would take him for a flight alone.

Spoiled brat.

And finally it got too much. He couldn’t stand to be away from her. He never had a home. The Red Keep stopped being his home years ago. Runestone was never his home. Dragonstone was home to all Targaryens and yet it lost its appeal to him in recent years. Home was nowhere to him. He could close his eyes and try to picture it but it would be dark.

Now, there was a face to it.

Someone who would look at him as if he was everything she wanted.

“No…I… Rhaenyra we need to talk.”

“Must it be now? I am exhausted.” He watches as she turns away from him and starts to take off her jewelry. “I have things to read and I have to be up early in the morning. The Myrish traders are here to talk with Nymeria and she wants me to join her. We can probably have lunch if I am free. Although I doubt I will be free. Maybe dinner if I’m not too tired.”

Daemon was stupefied. He thought he could explain himself to her. Tell her of his fears. Explain that everything he ever loved was either taken from him or turned away from him. Tell her that he was trying to do this for her.

“I-”

“So dinner tomorrow then? I shall try to make it but no promises.”

“Goodnight, uncle.”

It was a clear dismissal. She no longer spared a glance at him and instead called out to her maids to help her get ready for bed.

He was ushered out of the room, the others not even bothering to hear his protests.

He stares at her closed chamber doors and doesn’t know what to do.

“Did you expect her to give in so easily?”

He sees his cousin smirking at him. The sight of it annoys him.

“You leave her in bed like a common whor*. Do not expect her forgiveness so easily.”

Daemon glares at her as she walks away.

He knows her forgiveness won’t come easily. He knows that. But she will forgive him. She always does.

He shall try tomorrow morning when she is more amenable.

She evades him the first few days. Except it’s not something she is doing intentionally. He sees her but she’s always running beside Nymeria talking with her about things Daemon does not understand.

He tried to approach her numerous times but he couldn’t even get anywhere near her. She would wave him off as she went back to doing whatever she was doing.

She was busy with the Myrish traders during lunch and during dinner she was busy with them again.

He vowed to approach her the next day.

He tries to approach her after three days. He hasn’t seen her go flying yet so she assumes she’ll be wanting to and what better time to approach her than now?

“Want to go for a ride? Caraxes has missed Syrax.”

She looked at him a bit regretfully.

“I would love to but I am afraid I must finish the things Nymeria set aside for me.”

“Perhaps tomor-”

“I must meet with the triarchy tomorrow. Apologies.”

She was meeting with the triarchy? What was Nymeria making her do?

“Tri-”

“Apologies uncle, I must run.”

He would try again the day after but there was a problem.

He does not see her the whole day.

Or the day after.

Or the day after that.

It was probably around a week after he came back to Volantis that he had a realization. Rhaenyra has yet to speak valyrian to him. It’s not like he never heard her speak valyrian ever since he came back. The people here only spoke Valyrian. Except for Nymeria who was fluent in multiple languages.

It’s just that Rhaenyra spoke Valyrian with everyone except him.

And that bothered him more than he would admit it.

He taught her the language from when she could speak. While her parents talked to her in Common it was Daemon who spoke Valyrian with her. Even when she could not understand it clearly.

For years he was the only one in the Keep who could talk fluently with her in Valyrian. It was their language. It was a language of love.

Now he couldn’t even get her to address him in it.

It was on his ninth day back that he firmly approached her. He would take her with him today. He’d fly her out of the city and they would find somewhere they could talk. He’d make her see reason.

“Let’s go flying.”

“I can-”

“I’ve spoken to Nymeria. She says you may go with me today and she can handle your work for the day.”

Rhaenyra looked at Nymeria who stood behind him. When she saw that his cousin nodded she finally agreed. Daemon didn’t know whether he should be happy that she finally agreed or insulted that she only chose him after she was sure that her duties would be taken care of.

They both made their way out of the city on the palanquin. The journey was silent. Rhaenyra did not offer anything and he could not find anything to say as well. She never looked at him. Not even once as they made their way out of the city and onwards to the grassy lands away from the city where it was safe for the dragons to land.

And when he sees Syrax he realizes he might have missed the dragon too. He was the one who made sure to regularly visit the dragon once it had grown enough to be moved to the pit. He cared for it for Rhaenyra.

Now the dragon looked at him disdainfully. It even looked at Caraxes disdainfully.

He was a bit insulted.

Rhaenyra does not wait for him. She quickly climbs up on Syrax and shoots up.

Daemon hurries after her.

“Come Caraxes. After them. Quick.”

Caraxes let out a shrill whistle and flew up. Daemon smiles when he sees Rhaenyra racing ahead of him. And his smile widens when he sees her look behind to see him.

Flying was always their thing. Just like valyrian. Things that made them Targaryens were what bound them together in a way no one could understand. Not even his brother and his good sister.

And when he flies beside her, he sees a small smile on her face.

They stay up in the air for hours until he knows Caraxes would get tired. So when they return to the ground, Caraxes immediately flies off to wherever he nests when Daemon doesn’t call for him.

He looks at Rhaenyra expecting to see her warmed a bit more to him. Except she was looking at him as she always did now.

Cold. Indifferent. As if he was no different than a person she would pass by on the streets.

“We should return. I still want to get some work done before I sleep.”

He was beyond frustrated now. He gave her time. He thought with time she would cool down and talk to him. But she did not want to.

So when she turns to walk away, he reaches out to hold her.

The moment his hand makes contact with her wrist, he sees a glint and steps back when he realizes what it is.

She holds up her dagger.

“Do not ever touch me.”

Rhaenyra Targaryen

She relished the look on his face. He was surprised. Shocked. And a tiny bit of fear at the knowledge that she drew out a weapon on him this fast. All her training was paying off.

She would never let him touch her again. Not after what he did.

“Rhaenyra-”

“No. You don’t get to touch me. Not after what you did. Try it and I’ll cut off your hand. And if I fail in that then I shall cut off mine. I’d rather cut off any part of mine that you touch.”

Daemon studies her and he steps back when he realizes she was not lying.

Good. Let him fear her. Let him fear her anger. He made her who she is now.

“I want to speak to you.”

Rhaenyra laughs. “Now? You want to speak to me now? I have no need for your words.”

“You have to understand me. I was terrified.”

“You? You were terrified? How do you think I felt waking up in that bed all alone?” She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She promised herself that morning that Daemon Targaryen would never have her tears. He would not have her anger. He would never have anything of hers again until he was begging on his knees. Perhaps even then she would not give him anything of hers ever again.

He didn’t answer.

“I was all alone. You were all I had and you left me. You abandoned me.” Just like everyone else. Her mother had abandoned her for her father’s wishes. Her father had abandoned her for the one person she thought loved her above all. Alicent abandoned her for her father’s ambitions. Daemon was all she had.

Then he abandons her too.

His face twists as if he was the one in pain. As if he was the one staying up at night wondering if there was something about her that made it so easy for people to throw her away.

“I was terrified. That night… I was terrified after. It felt too much. You have to understand it was too much.”

“And you think it wasn’t for me? You think I did not burn as you did? You think you were alone in this? That I didn’t feel frightened? But you left me. You did not even bother staying till I woke up.”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry. I was selfish. I know I was selfish. I have no other explanation to it other than that I was terrified of how much I felt for you. How much I still feel for you.”

“I have no need for your apologies. You will never have anything from me ever again. Not until you beg me for it.”

She knew her uncle was a proud man. Just like she was. Just like her father. Just like Nymeria. Just like Rhaenys. They were Targaryens. They were made of fire. They were dragons. They were proud and they did not beg.

But then he does something that surprises her.

He kneels.

Her eyes widened. Her grip on her dagger loosens slightly.

“What…”

“You asked me to beg for your forgiveness. I am willing to beg.”

She felt like she was dreaming. There was no possible way this was happening. Her uncle, who never kneeled, was kneeling in front of her. He was begging for her forgiveness.

She had men kneeling in front of her before. She was the Crown Princess once. Lords of all the lands in Westeros had kneeled for her and swore fealty to her.

But this was her uncle. This was Daemon Targaryen and he did not kneel.

She felt powerful. She felt invincible. She felt like crying.

Instead she only marched up to him and put her dagger against his throat.

“And what if I say that the only way to earn my forgiveness is by making you bleed. Just like you made me bleed.”

He stood still. Waiting.

Her dagger against his throat. The valyrian steel dagger. The very one he gifted her. The one he guided her to use so many times until it became natural to her.

She pushes it slightly harder against his throat.

Daemon doesn’t move.

She sees the blood welling up. She sees the drop of blood roll down the dagger.

She snatches it away.

She has made men bleed before. She had stabbed them. She had watched her uncle break men apart.

She never hated the sight of blood until now.

“Get up.” She spits.

He stays kneeling.

“Get up!”

“Do I have your forgiveness?”

“You-”

“I have no intention of getting up until you forgive me.”

“Then you intend to remain here forever?”

“If that’s how long it will take for you to forgive me then yes.”

Rhaenyra was speechless. She wonders now if this is how her father felt whenever Daemon disobeyed his orders. For the first time she felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

“Get up. I do not wish to stay here forever. I am tired and I’m in need of a bath.”

He stares at her doubtfully.

She rolls her eyes. “Stay here any longer and it will take longer than forever for you to be forgiven.”

He stood up in an instant.

They both made their way to the horses that stood waiting for them. They said nothing on their way back to Volantis. It was only when they were stepping back inside that he spoke up.

“Do I have your forgiveness now, sweet niece?”

She eyes him. “My forgiveness isn’t so easily received. You shall have to work harder uncle.”

She watches him smile.

Chapter 11: XI

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra expected Daemon would start hounding her so that she would pay attention to him but she was surprised to see that he did none of that.

In fact, his actions surprised her the most.

The first day after she and Daemon had their talk, she was on her way to look up the list of the people standing for the upcoming triarchy elections. It was a homework of sorts from Nymeria to see if Rhaenyra could figure out who they should back with their money and connections. This was not something Rhaenyra particularly enjoyed, especially because she was well aware it was something she would need to do again in six moons.

She thought Daemon would sulk once he found out that she had no time for him. She was looking forward to it as well. She had no intention of giving up this easily.

Except Daemon didn’t sulk.

Daemon followed her to the study that Nymeria granted her and sat down in the corner while Rhaenyra conducted her own business.

He stayed quiet the entire time as she worked. So quiet that she was worried he was planning something. But he stayed quiet and flipped through the book he was reading.

The next day she ventured out to meet with some of the whor*s she knew were near to the people who worked for the potential triarchs.

Again, Daemon simply followed her. He said nothing as she stepped inside the brothel. He kept quiet when she greeted the whor*s, women and men, and they greeted her warmly. She sees Ael, the same man she had kissed when Daemon stormed inside the brothel, and he bowed and kissed her hand making her laugh. Daemon said nothing but she could see the way his hands twitch.

She hid her smile.

He continued doing the same thing the next few days. He would trail after her. Never interrupt her even when she meets with others. Quietly sat in the corner as she wrote her own reports and letters. He accompanied her as if he had sworn to be her shield. Determined to guard her at all given time.

“What are you doing?”

She caved in after a few days.

He looked up at her, confused. “Reading?”

He was reading but that was not what she wanted from him. He was avoiding her question.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking. You’ve been trailing after me for days now. Why?”

“Is it forbidden?”

“No.”

“Then I do not see why I can’t.”

“It’s just… don’t you have something else to do? Why are you bothering me?”

“Have I been bothering you?”

“No! Yes! Just.. Why?”

“You’re too busy.”

“I am aware of that.”

“If not for me trailing after you I would go by days without seeing you. And you venture out in the city alone with guards who are inadequate. So I’ll stay by your side. I won’t get in your way unless someone comes at you with a sword.”

So he was just with her for her time? And to protect her?

“You don’t want to stop me?”

“Why would I do that? You seem to enjoy working with Nymeria.”

She did enjoy working with Nymeria. Her father had named her heir for only two moons before she left. But even then she had joined the council as a cupbearer for years now. However, her voice was never heard. She was meant to stand on the side and pour wine. Even when she was the heir it never changed. She was never heard.

Nymeria was different. Nymeria listened and told her whether her suggestions were good or not. She taught her. She enjoyed learning and playing the games Nymeria was teaching her. Nymeria didn’t stand in the light like her father did and yet she had so much influence on the steps the men in power took. Sometimes, it is better to be in the shadows and make your move than be the one everyone looks at.

“So you just intend to sit there and do nothing?”

“Unless you plan on asking me to help you with your work, this is what I shall be doing.”

She observes him for a few more days before asking him to join her and help her.

She ignored his triumphant smile.

This was a routine she was used to.

Until he added something new in it without her realizing.

She had been receiving lemon cakes along with her breakfast for a while now. She had mentioned to Nymeria that she liked Lemon cakes the most and she thought her aunt had asked the cooks to bake some for her every day.

Until she heard the servants mention how awfully sweet it was that Daemon would wake up early every morning and venture out to New Volantis to arrive at the bakery first and buy the lemon cakes for her and bring them back before she was awake.

Rhaenyra stood there, surprised and touched at this. She could feel a smile on her lips. Her heart softened at that. She shook her head and reminded herself that a few cakes cannot melt her that easy. Sure, they were the best lemon cakes she ever had but that didn’t mean anything.

He would have to do more than simply assisting her and bringing lemon cakes for her.

Then he started with the gifts.

She had always received gifts from Daemon. He would shower her with gifts he would bring back for her after all his trips. She was spoiled by him with the prettiest jewels and dresses. So really she shouldn’t be surprised.

And yet she was.

It started off with a simple earring left on her bed. Teardrop sapphire blue earrings waiting on her bed for her. She puts it away.

The next day she sees a dress. She had always been fond of Myrish lace. Daemon had always bought chests full of dresses from Myr for her and this was no different. She appraised the dress with a look but this too she put away.

She had no intention of wearing any of his gifts until she opened another box he left for her one night.

It was another piece of jewelry. Only this was not the usual kind. Everything he gave her was precious and beautiful. But this was a necklace made of valyrian steel.

‘Now, you and I both own a small piece of our ancestry.’

She had left the necklace he had gifted her all those years ago in King’s Landing. Too consumed by her anger she didn’t even realize she didn’t have it on until she was halfway to Essos. She had mourned that loss and told Daemon about it as well. He promised her that he would give her another one.

And here it was.

The next morning she leaves her room with the valyrian steel necklace around her throat.

Nymeria grumbled about how it was her house that he was living in and he had yet to offer anything half as pretty as he offered Rhaenyra.

“You kept your promise.”

“I do not intend to break any promises I make to you.”

She is silent. It was so easy to say such things. It was easier to break them too. And she did not trust him. Not yet. She doesn’t think she can ever fully trust him.

But still…

“I shall hold you to that, uncle.”

On her name day, Nymeria had barred her from working. She pushed her out of the house along with Daemon and said she does not wish to see her return until dinner in the evening.

Both of them then raced along the sea on their dragons. Syrax, now a bit more tolerant of Daemon and Caraxes and didn’t seem to glare at them. Daemon rolled her eyes as she gloated her win over him.

Later they walk through the streets of New Volantis, Daemon indulging her and buying everything that her hands lingered on. He walked away from her for a bit only to return with a crown of red and black flowers.

“What is this?”

“If we were in King’s Landing now there would be a tourney held in your honor. I would crown you the Queen of Love and Beauty with a crown of flowers. We can’t have the tourney but we can have the crown.”

“Only if you won it Uncle.”

“You think any of those fools could beat me?”

“Ser Criston did.”

She delighted in his scowl.

“He only defeated me because I had my back turned.”

“And wasn’t it you who taught me to never turn your back to your enemies? Seems like you forgot your own lessons uncle.”

“Will you accept this or not?”

She smirked but bowed her head. And when he steps back to look at her, she can feel her heart race at the look in his eyes.

“Beautiful.”

Later on she complains about it to Nymeria. Nymeria only laughed at her as she recounted her woes.

“I swore to not forgive him easily! I cannot melt that easily! You must help me!”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Help me?”

“Be honest with me. Do you wish to be helped or do you just need someone to tell you that it is okay to love him and still not forgive him?”

She thought about it. “Both.”

“Then I shall soothe your worries. It is okay to still love him. You can’t choose who you love.. You can choose what to do with it. Love comes with hardships. He has hurt you tremendously once. That is not to say he will never hurt you again. It is not to say that you won’t either. Choose what you wish to do with your feelings. If you wish him gone then you must tell him. He will listen. If you want him to stay you must tell him that as well.”

She observes Daemon after that again. He doesn’t intend to leave her side. But how long will that last? What if he leaves? What if she lets him in again and he leaves? What if they marry and he leaves after? She knows he has no love for his wife but she was still his wife. What’s to say that he won’t treat her the same?

“Swear to me that you will never leave me.”

“What?”

They were outside the city walls a few days later. They had just gotten off their dragons and were making their way back to the city.

“Promise me that you will never abandon me. That is all I want from you. I have had too many people leave me Daemon. If you wish to do the same then do so right now. If you walk away again I will never forgive you. I will never look at you ever again. I shall feel nothing for you. Not affection. Not hatred. You will be dead to me just as my father is.”

Daemon says nothing. The silence scares her. It terrifies her. For a moment she thinks he will walk away. She is scared that she might cry if he does so.

“I swear on the fourteen flames that I will never leave you. Not in this life. Not ever. I will be by your side until you wish me gone.”

She does not think she could ever wish him gone.

That night there was a dress on her bed. A beautiful dress in red. It was Targaryen red. The color of her house. Their house. Color she doesn’t wear as often as she used to when she lived in Westeros.

The three of them were invited to a feast organized by the Tigers. She already had a dress prepared for the night. It was a dark blue dress that she was gifted to her from the traders from Lys. She knew what jewels she’d wear with it.

She looks at the dress on her bed.

Nymeria widened her eyes.

Daemon grinned.

Rhaenyra wore the dress gifted to her along with the valyrian steel necklace.

“If your intentions were to ask him to go away then you are doing something different.”

“Who said I wanted him gone?”

Nymeria rolled her eyes.

Rhaenyra grinned at her.

The feast was lavish as expected. She made polite talk with the crowd. She smiled. She laughed. She danced gracefully with all who asked her. Even if they were horrible dancers. Even if the one she wanted to dance with didn’t approach her but stared at her over the shoulders of those he danced with.

Daemon smirked at her and she rolled her eyes.

They didn’t dance together once. They didn’t need to. They only had eyes for each other.

“Do you two intend to dance around each other all this time?”

“I’m thinking.”

“A terrifying concept.”

She glares at Nymeria who smiles cheekily.

“I want him.”

“Shocking.”

“But he is married.”

“In the eyes of the Seven. A faith that matters little within these walls.”

But it still counted. Rhaenyra didn’t like sharing. Even if it was in the eyes of fake gods. It did not matter. As long as Rhea Royce was alive Daemon would never be hers. Rhea would never separate from him on her own accord. Her being married to Daemon gives her a life of freedom most women don’t have. Mostly though, she hates him enough to trap him in this marriage for her own petty revenge.

No, Rhea Royce won’t give him up.

Later on when they’re back home, Nymeria walks away with a look leaving Daemon and Rhaenyra alone in the foyer. Volantis was no Braavos. People here didn’t scream and fight and dance in the streets like they did in Braavos. It was done moderately. In closed spaces. But still you’d get to hear the music in the streets. Music that would drift through the open windows in the manor.

Daemon held out his hand.

Rhaenyra took it.

She sees him smile at her. Not his playful, mischievous one but truly smiles at her. It was so rare to see him smile and he only ever smiled at her. For her.

Her heart lurches.

“Nymeria, I need your help.”

The news arrives a few days later.

The letter arrives while Daemon and Rhaenyra were laughing about the men and women, who were proud of their valyrian blood, cowering when they saw Caraxes and Syrax on the streets of Volantis. They were interrupted by a maid who handed a letter to Daemon.

She watches as his expression changes from boredom to surprise, and maybe even a bit of happiness, at the contents of the letter.

“The Bronze bitch is dead.” He huffs out a laugh in disbelief.

“Oh.” She says. “How do you feel?”

She watches the grin on his face widen.

She smiles in return.

“You are one dangerous person, dear niece.”

“You’re the one who is teaching me to be dangerous.”

“I never said I disapprove.”

“Why don’t you just kiss me?”

Daemon coughs out his wine. Rhaenyra just stares at him.

She noticed the way he looked at her. His stare always lingered on her lips. When they danced that night, he drew in close enough to kiss but then he walked her to her room and left. She was torn between wanting to kiss him herself or wait it out until he gave up.

“Have you forgotten that you were the one who threatened me? You told me if I touched you without permission you would cut off any part I touched?”

“So is it my permission you seek?”

“Will you grant it?” He drew in closer. “If I said I wanted to kiss you. If I said I wanted you. Would you give it to me? Would you be mine?”

“If only you’d do the same.”

“I am no longer married.”

“I know.”

He studies her. She wonders if he knew what she had done. If he suspected it. If he knew the horrible things she was willing to do to get what she wanted and she wanted him.

“Would you marry me?”

“Ask me properly uncle.”

“Marry me, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Marry me in our way and be mine. Swear that you will be mine till death and after and I shall do the same.”

Rhaenyra leaned in and pressed their lips together.

When Rhaenyra was a child she often pictured how her wedding would be. Not that it was an event she looked forward to but she was a Princess and she had been taught since she was a child that it was her duty to marry for her family. She pictured her mother would be there, proud and crying, with her siblings, who would be running around causing mischief. Alicent would help her dress and she would be happy for Rhaenyra. Her father would try to smile but he would tear up because she was his favorite child and she was going to go away now and he would walk her down the aisle.

She would have to marry in a Sept to appease the faith. But if her husband were of Valyrian blood maybe they could also do a marriage in their ways.

But it was the face of her husband that she could never picture. When she was only five name days she had told her mother and father she would only marry Daemon. Her mother laughed while her father patiently explained why that was not possible.

She threw a tantrum and then promised she would never marry anyone if it wasn’t Daemon.

Today, she was marrying Daemon in the ways of their people. She was finally getting what she wished for as a five year old but she had no mother. She had no siblings who were causing mischief. She had no friend who giggled with her as she helped her dress. And she had no father who would walk her down the aisle and kiss her cheeks.

She was alone. But she was happy.

She had Daemon. And he had her.

They were all they needed for each other.

She dressed in the red and white robe that Nymeria bought for her. Nymeria put on an intricate headdress on her hair and helped her prepare for the wedding. Even her great aunt Saera finally came back to Volantis for the wedding. She looked far too delighted at the whole prospect and laughed herself hoarse when they told her what they were doing.

Daemon waited for her along with a priest from the temples of the fourteen flames.

Whatever little doubt she had had vanished the moment she saw him.

He was hers and she was his.

He was the blood of her blood.

Now they were going to bind each other forever.

He looks at her as if he can’t believe that she is real. As if she is everything he wanted.

She hopes he knows that he is all she ever wanted in her life.

He cuts her lip with a dragon glass and she follows. He draws on her forehead with his blood and she draws on his with hers. Fire and Blood. They cut their hands and hold each other’s hands. She watches him drink from the cup and she follows suit. She hears the priest recite the vows as they never look away from each other.

Blood of two, joined as one

Ghostly flame and song of shadows

Two heart as embers

Forged in fourteen flames

A future promised in glass and the stars stand witness

The vow spoken through time

Of darkness and light

She smiles at the end and she caresses his cheek. She laughs as he smiles at her and leans down.

She never believed in the Seven. But she thinks of the wedding vows.

I am his, and he is mine. From this day till the end of my days.

Chapter 12: XII

Chapter Text

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen grew up around whispers despite how much his mother tried to shield him and his siblings from it.

‘Bastards.’ They called them. ‘Sons of the false Queen.’

Aegon was drunk half the time even at such a young age. Daeron was whisked away to Oldtown before he could even talk. It was only him here.

And Helaena.

‘The mad princess.’ They called his sister. His sweet, innocent sister who did no wrong to anyone. Who could not even hurt the bugs she held in her hands.

They compared her with her. They sang praises of her and how beautiful and graceful she was compared to the princess they were saddled with now. The realm’s delight they called her. The most beautiful girl at such a young age. The youngest dragon rider.

A true Targaryen.

Aemond’s hatred for his unknown sister only grew. She was gone years ago but her memories still haunted the Keep. It was as if she was still here despite not being here for years. As if she was adamant on haunting his mother for what she did years ago.

But did she have to haunt Aemond and his siblings as well?

They said she cursed his mother before she left but then why did she curse them too? Why should Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron have to pay for his grandfather and mother’s ambition? On some days he hated his mother. If she didn’t do what she did then Aemond and his siblings wouldn’t be suffering like this. But he wasn’t stupid. He was aware that his mother didn’t have a choice because of his grandfather.

Now, here they were years later. Four Targaryens with no dragon to call their own. Aegon had one as a child but it died. He had no wish to claim one after that. Whatever hole was left after the death of the dragon Aegon loved even as an infant was too deep. Helaena kept on murmuring it wasn’t the right time. Daeron’s egg had gone cold just like Aemond’s.

And Aemond visited the pit every day hoping that today would be the day that a dragon would finally bond with him. But the pit lacked dragons and the only dragon there was dreamfyre and she was intent to sleep and not pay attention to anyone that came for her.

He knew his mother had asked, no, she begged his father numerous times to allow her to take her children, his children, to Dragonstone.

“There are dragons there, Viserys. Perhaps even eggs! Let my children visit that island. It’s their right!”

“That island belongs to the heir to the throne. That island is the seat of the Crown Princess. No one is to venture there without the permission of Rhaenyra.”

His mother would hug him later. She would whisper apologies to him. Only to him because Aegon was far too drunk to understand what was going on, Helaena never let anyone touch her and Daeron wasn’t even here. Aemond was all his mother had.

He loved her. He hated her. He wanted to be angry at her. He wanted to protect her.

But he knew he loathed his father.

That man never loved any of his children. The only one he cared about was the girl he turned his back on who in return walked away from him and never looked back. Now he drowns in regret and makes everyone around him just as miserable as him.

All Aemond wants is for a dragon so others would stop looking at his mother the way they do. Mocking smiles. Taunting laughs. Insincere words.

He just wants to protect her.

One day, his mother told him to come with her as they take Helaena and Aegon (who was already half out of his mind) and take them to a ship. She tells them nothing as they set sail. For three days they sail until he sees his destination.

Dragonstone.

“Mother.” He whispers.

She stares at the ancestral home of the Targaryens, determined and a bit terrified. “We have to Aemond. If we don’t I… we must. I have to protect you.”

He knew what she meant. He had heard his mother and grandsire talking about the possibility of his sister coming back. She had a dragon. She would have the allegiance of the Vale and Starks. Even the Velaryons would side with her as she was kin. She would have Daemon Targaryen, the rider of the Blood Wyrm and the most terrifying warrior in all of Westeros, who was also his uncle but he knew enough about him to know that he would hate him just as much as his own sister hated him. The Lords of Westeros would rather ride with a Targaryen that could burn their armies to crisp rather than one without a single dragon to their name. Even if she lacked a certain part dangling between her legs.

They needed dragons to survive because Rhaenyra Targaryen hated Alicent Hightower and should she come back she would kill her and her children.

Aemond clutched his mother’s hand to comfort her.

The guards were surprised to see them but they bowed. Aemond could tell they looked displeased and it irked him. They should be greeted with better reception. By Westerosi customs, his older brother was the first in line with him after. His mother was the Queen. They deserved better.

“We are here to claim dragons.” His mother declared.

The guards exchange wary looks. “Your grace, the King-”

“The King isn’t here and I’m your Queen. You will move aside and let my children and I pass. We shall talk to the dragon keepers.”

The guards exchange another look but they step aside to let them pass. Aemond marches with his mother up the sand where his mother leads him to the dragon keepers. The dragon keepers don’t look any more pleased than the guards to see them.

“My children are here to claim dragons.” She declares.

The dragon keepers exchange a look and then one of them steps forward.

“There are no dragons for the princes and the princess to claim, your grace.”

Aemond frowns at that.

“Aemond, what is he saying?”

He recites what the dragon keeper has said to his mother.

His mother scowled. “What do you mean there are no dragons?”

“It means, as we said, your grace. The island hosted Vermithor and Silverwing. It hosted three wild dragons. Out of them only two are left. Grey Ghost is missing. She flies in and out and we do not know where she is. As for Cannibal… we do not keep track of it. Sheepstealer hasn’t been seen in a while either. We are worried that the Cannibal may have eaten it.”

When Aemond relays this to his mother, her face darkens. She looks at the keepers angrily.

“What have you all been doing if you let dragons go missing? Can you not keep them here?”

Aemond frowns at his mother. The keepers exchanged a look again but this time it looked like they were trying to not laugh.

“A dragon is not a pet animal. It does not obey orders. It does what it wants. Should we try to stop it then we would all die. Does your grace wish for us to die?”

His mother sneers and marches away. Aemond and his siblings follow.

They make their way back to the Keep, defeated. His mother does not tell the King about their trip. Neither does he. He does not want to be any more humiliated. He goes back to doing his regular duties. The Keep falling back to its regular, monotonous days.

Until one morning when they receive a missive and everything changes.

His sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, finally sent in a letter.

Viserys Targaryen

The first news he received about his daughter after the box of ashes he received was from his cousin after she returned from Braavos. There was once love between them. The love between a family who would do anything for each other. They were once three heads of the dragon. Rhaenys, Viserys and Daemon. Then the Old King called the Council and suddenly it was just him and Daemon.

Then it was only him.

Rhaenys had arrived from Stepstones after the victory and declared it to her cousin. Afterwards, she had told him that while in Braavos she had heard that Rhaenyra passed by the city.

“She wasn’t alone. Daemon was with her.”

He didn’t know whether he should be happy or worried. He knew his brother and his penchant for violence. He didn’t want his daughter to be dragged in. That also made him wonder if it was his brother who killed those guards.

Rhaenys left after that and Viserys wrote a letter to the Sealord of Braavos asking about his daughter. The Sealord only replied by saying the Princess passed by and didn’t stay for long.

Again, his lead died.

He didn’t tell Otto about it. He was not so much of a fool that he couldn’t see his Hand’s ambition. Otto has been insisting that Aegon should be renamed heir to make the realm stable but Viserys refused to. He owed his daughter this much. He knew she would return one day and on that day he had full intention to give her everything that belonged to her.

But years passed and she never returned.

Until one morning they receive a raven. A sealed letter bearing the name of his daughter.

Viserys felt like he could cry. Perhaps this was a good sign. Maybe now his daughter would forgive him.

He asks for the letter to be read in the presence of the rest of his family. Alicent and their children were there. So was Otto. Let them all see that the Crown Princess was alive. Let the whole court see it.

The Maester holding the letter hesitated.

“Read it! Quick!” He ordered.

The Maester slowly read the letter out.

Your Grace,

I heard that there was a recent visit to Dragonstone for your children to claim dragons. Apologies for their failure to do that. If I had known that they wanted to do so I would have sent a missive earlier. My own children have claimed Vermithor, Silverwing and Cannibal. I think Cannibal ate one of the other dragons. Apologies. Do extend my apologies to the Princes and Princesses. I shall pray to the fourteen flames for them.

Rhaenyra Targaryen

The whole court is quiet after that.

Children. His daughter has children. Of course, she would. She was a grown woman now. She would have a husband and children. None of whom he met. She never even named them in her letter. She didn’t even tell him how many children she had. His daughter had created a life for herself and she sent him a letter to remind him that she had no need of her.

But he needed her.

“Where is this letter from?” He demanded.

The Maester hesitated.

“Answer!”

“Volantis, your grace. Old Volantis.”

Old Volantis. The rest of the court started murmuring. His daughter was inside the Black Gates. Somewhere no one saved him and the Velaryons could go. The Velaryons wouldn’t go. They had numerous battles against the triarchy over Stepstones. They would not be allowed in despite their Valyrian blood.

But there was one more family he could ask for help.

“Call Lord Celtigar. Now! I must ask him to go and ask my daughter to return with her husband and children!”
“Your grace-”

“I want to hear no protests, Otto! None! Go now!”

He will see his daughter again and he will beg her for her forgiveness.

Otto Hightower

Otto worked his entire life for the day when he would reach the peak. One would think that being the Hand would mean he reached the position but this isn’t what he wanted. He wanted his blood on the throne. Not his brother’s. His own.

It’s why he pushed his daughter to the King’s side all those years ago and his hard work paid off. She gave the King sons that he needed. Three sons that had Hightower blood. His blood.

But none of them had dragons and years passed and they couldn’t claim any dragon in the pit. He had finally told his daughter to go in secret to Dragonstone when he saw the King refuse to allow them. Only there were no dragons there. He hadn’t suspected then that the dragons were already claimed.

But now that he learns, he is scared.

Syrax, Vermithor, Silverwing and Cannibal. When Daemon joins them it would make them five.

Five dragons against none of their own.

He had rumors of more than one dragon being spotted. Black dragon and silver ones. But he never paid attention to those rumors. There was no one who came forward to confirm them and he had little to no contact with Essos. None of his spies ever made it there.

Now he knew why.

They made sure no word ever came of this. Who knows what Rhaenyra has been doing all these years behind the walls of the Black Gate. What army she has amassed to march on them and burn them all to the ground.

And she has heirs too. Heirs with dragons.

If they were left to live…

No. Otto must do something about this.

He takes out a paper and his pen and starts writing.

Chapter 13: XIII

Chapter Text

Marriage gave Rhaenyra a happiness she thought was not possible. It was not as if she did not see happy marriages. Her mother and father were happy, happy enough, as long as the matter of children didn’t come up. Her grandfather and grandmother’s marriage and love was the kind you’d hear of in stories. Baelon Targaryen loved his Alyssa so much he swore to never take another woman after her death. Her great grandfather and great grandmother had many happy years together before the grief of losing their children drove them away from each other.

Targaryens didn’t always have happy marriages that lasted. Too soon the happiness would be taken from them.

Rhaenyra had no intention of being one of those Targaryens.

Every morning, she’d wake up with Daemon by her side. He swore he would be by her side and every day he’d be there, greeting her with a smile and a kiss.

“My wife.” He would whisper with a soft kiss on her lips that would slowly change into a hungrier one.

They could not keep their hands off of each other. They hadn’t left their room for days after their wedding. The servants would bring in food for them but they were far too busy feasting on each other. It would never be enough. Daemon could take her a thousand times and yet she would crave the feeling of him inside of her. He would only need to look at her and she’d jump into his arms and kiss him and hunger for him. She can’t imagine not wanting him.

“Husband. My husband.” She would chant as he thrust into her on every available surface in their room. Against the walls, on the table, in the bath, on their bed, everywhere.

When they emerged from their rooms after days, Nymeria had only said that she might as well have turned her house into a brothel for they made sure to give everyone in the house a show.

“At least if this were a brothel I’d be earning money for having to listen to you two day and night. Now I have earned no money and only have sleepless nights as a result of you two.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon grinned at her but made no apologies.

They would not be apologizing for their pleasure.

But there was one thing that haunted her. She drinks moon tea every day now. The bitter and vile taste now familiar to her as she drank it day and night. At first, she would drink it without hesitation but as days passed she would stare at the cup of tea for longer and longer.

“Do you want children?” She asked Daemon.

They were on their bed, her head on his bare chest and his hands around her, slowly caressing her back.

His hands stilled at her question. She hadn’t made it a secret that she was taking means to stop his seed from taking root in her. He was well aware of her fear of birthing bed. Her mother had told her that the birthing bed was a woman’s battle. They must face it with a stiff lip. Her mother hadn’t survived her final battle. She was torn apart for a babe that didn’t live either.

“What brought this on?”

“Answer my question.”

“Yes, I do want children.”

She was glad he didn’t lie. She would not appreciate it even if he would have done so to comfort her. But Daemon knew her. He knew that she would be angry if he lied to her.

“Do you resent me for drinking moon tea?”

“No. I would never. Children should not be wanted by only one parent but by both. As long as you are not sure you want them, we will not have them. Should you decide that you will never want them then we will never have them.”

He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “I would rather have you by my side than children.”

Rhaenyra pulled him down and kissed him. She loved him. She loved him so much that sometimes it felt unreal. And he loved her. Loved her enough to put her first no matter what. Her father never did that. Her great grandfather didn’t. They put the realm over the woman they claimed to love and their children.

Not Daemon and Rhaenyra. They were each other’s first. No one would ever be more important. He was willing to do anything for her. She would do the same for him.

She pulled herself away from him and ignored his voice as she stood up and walked over to where she kept the flask of moon tea. Daemon watched her, confused. She took the flask over to the window and poured the contents out.

When she looked at him she saw he was in disbelief.

“Are you sure?”

“You once said you would give me anything I wanted. Now let me give you this as well.”

Daemon laughed and pulled her back to bed.

They didn’t leave the whole day. She didn’t ask for moon tea ever again.

Three months later she giggled as Daemon spun her around and kissed her. His hand on her stomach and he kneels in front of her, putting his head against where their child now grew.

Nymeria pretended as if the idea of children around the house tired her already but she could tell how happy she was for both of them.

A vindictive part of her wanted to send a letter to her father. She wanted him to know that he would never get to know her children. He would never get to hold them or see them. She would never let him use her children for his own motives. Her children would grow up in a place where they would know they were enough. That regardless of whether they had a co*ck or a c*nt they were loved so much.

Added to that, Daemon returns one day with a grin and covered in soot. He ignores Nymeria’s screams at him for daring to enter the house looking the way he did and instead opens his satchel for Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra looks in disbelief inside it.

There lay two eggs. One pitch black and the other in red and yellow.

“It seems Syrax and Caraxes blessed us.”

Rhaenyra hugged him, not caring that she would get soot on herself. Dragon eggs here. She worried for a while that she might have to sneak back to Dragonstone and steal an egg away for her child. No child of hers would grow without a dragon. They would be pure Targaryen. Just like their mother and father, they would love the skies as well.

“Soon you will be here, my sweet boy and I shall show you the wonders of the sky.”

“You seem so sure it is a boy.”

“I know it is. A mother’s instinct.”

“Then I shall not fight you on this. I do not think I would win.”

“And tell me when have you ever won against me, husband?”

Daemon conceded and kissed Rhaenyra.

Soon it won’t be just them and Nymeria. Soon they’ll have their son.

The day Rhaenyra’s son was born was a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue, the sun was shining and it seemed like it was one of the rare days when Volantis wasn’t burning up.

But it was terrible for her. She lay on the bed for hours feeling as if she was going to be ripped apart. She cried, screamed and begged. She cried for her mother. Begged for the gods to take her pain away. Screamed at Daemon, who was beside her the whole time holding her hands and never letting go despite how tight she held it. She blamed him for this and he nodded along and apologized.

“I am never letting you anywhere near me again! You stay the f*ck away from me from now on!”

Daemon nodded along as the midwives asked her to push.

She thought she would die.

But then she hears the sounds of a baby crying. She sees the midwife hold her baby up.

All of a sudden she feels this overwhelming love for this child that she cries once again. This time it’s tears of happiness. She cries when she sees her child and when she holds him in her arms.

She had seen children before and she thought they all looked the same. Plain, pink and wrinkly. They only drooled, slept and shat. She never understood how some people claimed that their children were beautiful when they were nothing of that sort.

Now she understands them.

Her child, her son, was so beautiful. He was perfect. He was everything to her now.

Daemon stares at him with wonder and love and he holds both of them.

“What do we call him?” Daemon whispered.

They had discussed names before but nothing concrete. The closest they came to it was Aegon.

But the baby opens his eyes and she sees Daemon’s eyes.

“Baelon. We’ll name him Baelon after your father.”

Daemon kissed her. He didn’t need to voice out his gratitude. She understood.

Rhaenyra wanted to take Baelon on Syrax a fortnight after his birth but Daemon and Nymeria stood against her. Rhaenyra scowled and reminded Daemon that his own mother had done the same. Daemon still refused her and Nymeria quickly claimed Baelon and took him away, murmuring to him how his parents are ‘crazy, dragon obsessed’ and ‘you must not be like them sweet child’. Baelon blinked at her.

Rhaenyra was offended.

Baelon’s crib was in her own room. She refused to part from him and Daemon agreed. Their son would sleep by their side along with his egg. She had initially intended to take the red and yellow egg, a fitting one for their first child to have an egg that looked like a mix of his parents’ dragons, but when she saw Baelon, her hands immediately picked the black one.

Now, it was beside him in his crib. It was warm to touch and she knew it would soon hatch.

With the addition of her son, the manor was louder now. Be it his laugh or his cries, he was a loud child. He was always demanding attention, especially from his mother. Rhaenyra would laugh whenever Daemon would mock glare at their son for ‘stealing Rhaenyra away’.

“She was mine first, demon child.”

Rhaenyra smacked him.

She had no complaints. She was her child’s favorite and he was hers.

But she knew how much Daemon loved their child. He would take Baelon in his arms and sing to him in Valyrian. He would tell them their stories. He would speak to him and, sometimes late at night when Daemon would think Rhaenyra is asleep, she would hear him whisper how much he loved Baelon and how he would do everything for him.

She loved her son and now she wanted more children. An army of them for Daemon and her.

So it wasn’t a surprise when she was with child again a few months after Baelon’s birth.

Daemon was just as happy as the first time and Nymeria was just as exasperated.

“What do you say, my sweet boy? A brother or sister?” She asked Baelon.

Baelon babbled, waving his fists in the air. His egg hatched and now the dragon law in the crib, occasionally letting out a small, shrill whistle.

“He says he wants a sister. A sister who is as beautiful as his mother.”

“We shall all pray to Meleys for giving you a daughter this time that looks like her mother. God knows we can’t have another one looking like you, cousin.”

Daemon was adamant that it would be a girl this time. All the clothes sewn for the baby were for a girl. Rhaenyra laughed and allowed it. The toys, the dresses, the jewels. He had it all for a princess.

“You’re sure it’s a girl?”

“A father’s instinct.” He replied, making her laugh.

But she agreed with him. This time she felt it was different than when she had Baelon. She felt it was a girl.

The birth of her daughter was during one of the worst storms ever seen in Volantis. The winds howled, lightning flashed and thunder roared along with Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like last time, Daemon was by her side but Nymeria wasn’t. She was with Baelon and she could hear her son cry for her. She wanted to go to him and take him in her arms. He only started talking in bits. He would call out for her.

Muna, he would try to say.

Muna, her daughter, would one day call her.

“Just a bit more my love. She’s almost here.”

She pushed past the pain. She screamed and cursed at the midwives until she felt a weight leave. There was relief.

Until she felt a cold seep in.

She could hear the wind. She could hear the rain. She could hear the thunder.

She could not hear her daughter cry.

“Where is she? Give her to me!” She cried out.

The midwives rubbed the baby but they refused to show her baby to her. Rhaenyra screamed at them. She wanted her child.

“Daemon,” She looked to her husband, who stared at the midwives. “Daemon you must bring her to me. I have to..”

She sobbed. If her daughter was gone she would go the way Targaryens do. And Rhaenyra would take her on her own. She would walk to Syrax. She would die there along with her daughter but she would go there on her own.

Daemon slowly got up, his face expressionless. Rhaenyra cried as she saw him bend down and pick up their daughter.

As Daemon turns to walk back to her, she hears it.

A little whimper at first and then it grew into a shrill cry.

And for the first time she saw Daemon Targaryen shed tears. He kneeled by her side, their daughter in his arms and she cried along with her husband.

Visenya Targaryen was born during the worst storms and she came to life in her father’s arms.

Chapter 14: XIV

Chapter Text

Her children did not get along. Rhaenyra and Daemon would watch amused as both of them, one who couldn’t even sit up yet, would somehow find ways to fight with each other. Their screams would get so terribly loud until both the parents would swoop in to take them away. She would pick up Baelon and Daemon would whisk Visenya away. The children are still so young but they already have a parent whose arms they preferred.

Daemon was a horrible man. He was callous and cruel. His hands were covered in countless blood.

But with his children there was such a gentleness that seemed to be only for them. He would sing songs in valyrian to them. He would tell them their stories. He would take them in his arms and softly murmur to them as he walked around to calm them whenever they were crying. Rhaenyra thought she couldn’t love him any more than she already did but looking at him with their children made her fall in love with even more. If that was even possible.

He loved them and doted on them. Especially their daughter.

Rhaenyra could only watch with amusem*nt at how besotted Daemon was with their daughter. It was Baelon who looked like Daemon but it was Visenya who was just like Daemon despite having her mother’s looks.

“Should I call her a demon child now, husband?”

Daemon mock glared at her while she put her son back to the crib. His own black hatchling lay on his side curled up. They did not name it yet. Rhaenyra named her own dragon and she wanted her son to be able to do the same. In the other crib, there was a red and yellow egg. Rhaenyra touched and frowned. It felt less warm than before.

“I don’t think this will hatch.”

Daemon said nothing. She knew he agreed. It was a feeling they both had but they never voiced it out. She didn’t like the idea of her daughter being dragonless.

“There are other ways to get a dragon.” He said.

She knew that but the feeling of growing up with a dragon was special, just like her and Syrax, but claiming a dragon was just as special. Daemon did it with Caraxes and she doubts there is a dragon and dragon rider bond that is as deep as theirs.

It didn’t matter if the egg didn’t hatch. This was her and Daemon’s daughter. She would be in the sky.

The next day Daemon takes the dragon egg to a warming chamber. It was going to stay there until they both needed it.

Daemon and Rhaenyra silently agreed to not have any more children for a while. Visenya’s birth still haunts her. There are nights when she would wake up and stumble over to the nursery where Visenya now slept. She would sit by the crib and stare at her daughter, counting her breaths and soothing herself by seeing her move. On those nights, Daemon would have to carry her back to their bed after she fell asleep by the crib.

She knew Daemon faced similar fears. It’s why he loved Visenya so much. He came so close to losing her but she came to life for him. He doesn’t think the other children they would have would do the same.

So for the next two years, Rhaenyra kept drinking moon tea. They also ventured out of Volantis for a longer period of time. Nymeria was displeased every time they left but she knew they would come back.Volantis was now home to her. It was where Daemon told her he loved her. It was where she married the love of her life. It was where their children were born. Volantis was their home and they would always return.

It was during one of those trips that they finally met Laena again after four years. Laena, now married to her cousin Daemion and a daughter of her own.

I do not love him like you love Daemon. But he is kind and good. I can care for him as he cares for me. And he seems to respect me and accept my tendencies to jump off on a dragon and fly away. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of stopping me.

I think that is a blessing that not a lot of women of my position have.

She was right about the last part. Not everyone was blessed like Rhaenyra was to find great love and freedom.

She meets Laena in Pentos with her children and her husband while Laena is with her daughter, brother and Joffrey. They spend their days in Pentos in the city and flying in the sky.

Laena insisted that Visenya ride with her.

“Her name is Visenya. It would be an insult to not ride Vhagar with her!”

So Laena took Visenya while Rhaenyra took Rhaena.

She missed Laena. She was kin and so was Laenor. One of the very few she could call her own.

“Next time you have children, invite me to Volantis. I shall sneak in pretending to be a distant Targaryen cousin!”

Rhaenyra laughed. “I do not intend to have children so soon.”

“We shall see.”

Laena’s prophecy turned out to be true because just a few weeks later the healer informs she was with child. Again.

It had been two years since she had Visenya. Her daughter and son could walk now which was a curse because they would be running all over with the servants running after them. She thought she would be dedicated to her work and her two children.

Now there were more.

She glared at Daemon who smiled innocently at her.

Days bled into months and Rhaenyra’s stomach swelled. This time it swelled more than it did before.

“You should prepare yourselves for twins, Princess.”

Twins. Having two children was already more than enough and now they were about to have four.

“Four children.” She mutters.

“A blessing from Meleys.” Daemon grinned.

Rhaenyra scowled at him. “Is that so? Then why don’t you push out two children from yourself?”

Daemon quickly shut up after that.

Despite it all, she knew they were a blessing. She loved her children. Even the ones she couldn’t hold in her arms yet. She was worried just as any mother would but she already loved them so much.

Visenya and Baelon were confused by the whole thing. But explaining to them they were having more siblings resulted in two different reactions.

Baelon was happy. He was happy to have brothers he could play with.

Visenya was younger but Rhaenyra thinks she understood the gist of what was said because her daughter was pouting after finding out.

“No. I hate baby!”

Rhaenyra and Daemon were not amused while Nymeria was off cackling.

“You know when my parents told me I was going to have a younger sibling I wasn’t happy about it either.”

“At least, we know for sure this is your daughter.”

The birth of her twins was far smoother than her previous two labors. Which was surprising given that she was having two babies at once.

But this labor took less time and she even felt like the pain was not as bad.

By the end of it, she and Daemon held their son and daughter.

“Have you thought of names?” Laena asked them. Just like she said, she snuck inside Volantis with Nymeria. Her own daughter is with her and already best of friends with Visenya. She was Rhaenyra’s company in the last few weeks when Nymeria had to make a trip to Tyrosh.

Daemon and Rhaenyra exchanged a smile.

When Baelon and Visenya were brought in, their son ran towards them excitedly while Visenya reluctantly moved forward. She looked at Rhaenyra as if she was scared.

“Muna hurt?” She asked.

“No, my love. Muna is fine. Come meet your sister and brother.”

The maid picked her up and put Visenya beside her while Daemon kneeled beside her with Baelon peeking over to see the baby.

“Meet your baby brother and sister. Aemon and Alyssa.”

Visenya was seven when she claimed her dragon. For months now she’s been begging her father to take her to dragonstone to claim a dragon. However, every time Rhaenyra would delay it. She thinks she understands her mother now. As a child, she didn’t understand why her mother was so reluctant to let her out of her sight but now she understands.

She loves them so much she can’t bear to part from them. Even the idea of her daughter stepping back on that land, even if it was Dragonstone, terrified her. There were snakes there. Snakes who were still looking for her. Her and Daemon’s network was vast and they were always informed when someone who even had a little bit of ties with the Crown and the Hightowers stepped on Essos. The two of them would always make sure to kill them quickly. They didn’t want anyone to know about their children. Her children were pure Targaryens. They were the children of a Targaryen Prince and Princess, both of whom have a strong claim to the throne.

It also helped that Laena wrote letters to her from Driftmark informing her about the court and the ongoings of Westeros.

She didn’t want her children stepping on that awful place. Their home was Essos. It was the free cities and the known world beyond. It was freedom. She would never shackle them to that awful place and the horrible duties that shackled her and Daemon once.

But Visenya so badly wanted a dragon. She loved flying. She was more often in the air with her father and Caraxes than she was on the dragon. She wanted to be like her father. A great warrior and dragon rider. So she can’t stop her daughter from wanting to go to Dragonstone.

But then her husband took her daughter to Dragonstone without telling her.

“I’ll take her to Braavos for a few days. Maybe the trip will make her happy.”

She agreed. Baelon stayed with her, as always, while the twins were still too young to leave their mother behind. Her twins ran around the house, holding hands causing chaos. Where one goes the other always follows. Never to separate for far too long. Even as infants, they would cry unless they could hold each other’s hands. She doesn't think her twins would ever stray too far from each other.

Baelon trailed after her in those days helping her as much as a boy of eight could. Which wasn’t a lot but she was thankful. But she also knew that he was with her all the time because he missed his sister.

“They’re meant for each other.” Daemon said once.

Rhaenyra couldn’t protest. Not when she sees how Visenya would always trail after her brother. How Baelon would always stop for Visenya to catch up.

He missed her even as he pretended not to.

Rhaenyra tried not to laugh and took her son with her as she conducted her business in Volantis while Nymeria was away to Slaver's Bay.

She expected her daughter and husband to return in a week or so.

They did.

Only it wasn’t just the two of them on Caraxes.

No, it was Daemon on Caraxes and her daughter on a large, black dragon that was bigger than Caraxes. Rhaenyra tried to not fall when she saw the black scales and green eyes and her daughter riding the dragon. Her daughter is on top of the monster. Cannibal.

She turned her furious gaze on Daemon, even as her daughter ran to her and hugged her. She couldn’t stop glaring at her husband.

“Mother! I have a dragon!”

She tried to smile at her daughter. She tried to be happy for her. But she looks at the dragon and can’t help but be frightened.

Later on, she and Daemon have their worst argument in ages. He argued that the dragon chose the rider and she argued that he let their daughter walk into danger.

“Do you think I would let her die?”

“Do you think you can stop that monster, husband? It is almost as big as Vhagar! It eats dragons!”

“She is fine! She is safe! We cannot protect her forever, Rhaenyra! That dragon will!”

“She is a child!”

“She is our child!”

They refuse to speak to each other after that. Both of them were too mad at the other. She knew he understood her fears. Just as she knew how Daemon would burn the world for their children, especially Visenya.

It was Visenya who stopped their fight.

“I know you are mad at father but don’t be. It was me.”

“Visenya-”

“I found a dragon egg. It was warm to touch and I took it. I thought I would bring it for Alyssa or Aemon so they can both have eggs. But then I saw Cannibal and he stared at me. And I just… it felt like it was right. So I put down that egg and let him approach me. I gave that egg to him to eat and in return he let me claim him. Father was furious. He was so mad at me. But he understands. You must understand.’

She did understand. But she was still terrified.

“You must have faith in Visenya, mother. The dragon is fierce but so is she.” Baelon told her.

Her son so often trailing after his sister now, his dragon almost grown enough to ride it. Soon they both will be taking to the skies together on their own dragon.

That night she crawled back into bed with Daemon. She knew he was awake even as he pretended to not be. She was married to him for years now. She knew him.

She said no apologies. Neither did he. There was nothing to apologize for.

She simply laid down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

“She is too much like you.” She whispers.

“I think she is like you.”

“I think she inherited the worst of us. She must be sent as a penance for everything we put our own parents through.”

“On that we can both agree.”

Children grow up so fast, she mused.

She looked at her four children now. Baelon her eldest of nine name days, grows up every day to look more and more like her father, a sword in his hand while he blocks the blows against him. Visenya, her eldest daughter of eight name days, a smirk on her face as she attacks her brother with her own sword, determined to one day be good enough to defeat her father and take Dark Sister from him. Her husband watches both her children and occasionally gives out instructions. On the other side were her twins, both six name days now and handling their own weapons. Alyssa at the age of six was determined to master polearm after meeting the dornish with Nymeria and seeing the women carry spears. She trains with a dornish woman while her twin, Aemon, shoots at the targets with his own instructor on his side.

“She’ll need someone to protect her back.” is what he told his parents after his father asked Aemon whether he really wanted to focus on archery.

She loved her sweet boy even more after she heard that. He was so determined to protect his twin and be by her side.

She caresses her belly and drinks the mint tea looking at her family, Nymeria on her side and the letter from Laena on the table.

Yes, she did have a good life indeed.

Chapter 15: XV

Chapter Text

Baelon Targaryen

“I sent a letter to King’s Landing.”

Baelon nearly spat out his cup of tea but quickly held himself. The papers in front of him were the financial reports from the trades with YiTi. The trades with them have only been established recently after years and years of work. Baelon did not want to face the ire of his great aunt should he destroy the financial reports already.

But..

“King’s Landing?” He asked his mother. “As in Westeros?”

“Is there a King’s Landing somewhere other than Westeros, Baelon?”

“Apologies, mother. It’s just that… why?”

“Hmm.” His mother put down the letter in her hands and looked at him. “I received a letter that the Queen snuck to Dragonstone without the permission of the King in the hopes of receiving a dragon for any of her children. Sadly, there are none for her to claim.”

Baelon smirks. Visenya was the first of them to claim a dragon from Dragonstone, followed by Aemon and Alyssa claiming Vermithor and Silverwing. In the same year, when his siblings traveled to Dragonstone, Aunt Laena and Rhaena joined them and Rhaena claimed Grey ghost.

Although that was not known to anyone. Mother advised Aunt Laena to keep it a secret and have Grey Ghost be kept away for Rhaena’s own safety.

“The Velaryons still have Targaryen blood. Otto Hightower would do whatever is necessary to keep his blood on the throne.”

His youngest sibling, Daemion, was like him. Their eggs hatched. Daemion’s dragon, Meraxes, was the red and yellow from the two eggs that Syrax laid years ago while Baelon’s dragon, Balerion, hatched years ago. It was fitting in a way that Mother and Father’s eldest and youngest had their eggs hatched.

Their family had dragons but the Hightowers didn’t. His mother would tell him he should be better than them. That she now holds no grudge for them as she does not want to bother sparing them any thought.

But Baelon supposed in this way he was more like his father for he found their misery made him happy. However, his mother taught him better than to openly gloat so he merely nods and takes a sip from the tea.

The look from his mother however tells him that he wasn’t too successful.

Oh well.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “What did you tell them?”

“The truth. I told them regretfully that they can’t claim any because there are none.”

Baelon didn’t bother hiding his smirk this time. “Regretfully?”

His mother merely smiled.

Baelon snorted. His mother and her word games. Even now Baelon wasn’t half as good as her at it.

“Why now?” He asks.

His mother never made her dislike of Westeros a secret from them. It was something that was now shared amongst all her children. She also explained to them early on why they must be careful with their dragons. Why they must never take their dragons in the middle of any city that is not old Volantis.

“They must not know about us, my dragons. They will be scared of what you can do and try to hurt you.”

The ones in King’s Landing have no influence in Essos but even then caution is better. Essos is their domain. Their pockets run deep, deeper than the Iron Bank, their spy network vaster than any others and the people owing them far too many to even keep track of. But he supposes a mother would always fear for her children. Even if the children were dragons.

“I received a letter from Driftmark.”

“Hmm? Aunt Laena’s written? What did she say?”

Baelon liked Aunt Laena. She was so fun and it was fun racing with her. And he liked her children too. Rhaena and Corlys are always fun to be with but he knew Rhaena was his sister’s favorite.

“It wasn’t Laena.”

“Oh? Uncle Laenor then?”

Uncle Laenor was even more of a frequent visitor than Aunt Laena. Years ago, the Sea Snake changed the line of succession for Driftmark and it would be his daughter and her children to inherit the throne after him. Now, Laenor Velaryon cheerfully sails the sea and trades. Occasionally flying to battle if needed with Seasmoke. It was always fun to fight with Uncle Laenor given how experienced he is.

“No. It was Lord Corlys.”

Baelon paused.

His mother looked at him.

She seemed to know what he was thinking.

Baelon snorted. “And? What was your answer?”

“None as of yet. It is not him in power here. It is us. Do you know what he wants?”

Of course he does. He wasn’t a stupid child. He may only be fifteen but he was his mother’s son. He grew up by her side and Nymeria’s. He knew what ambition and greed was. And there was none greedier than Corlys Velaryon.

“The throne. He means to ask your help for it. Princess Rhaenys is alive and healthy. Much healthier than the King. She has heirs with Targaryen blood. The heirs also have heirs. One of which has enough Targaryen blood to be a dragon rider. Already a much better choice for some than the Hightowers. But it would be a stronger claim if you support them. Will you?”

“Hmmm.” His mother frowned at the letter. “I’m thinking about it. It depends.”

“On?”

“Do you want the Iron throne?”

Baelon paused to think. He was his mother’s heir. His father’s heir. His mother and father both had claims to the throne. Even now, the King refused to name the Hightower children the heir. His mother remained the heir and after her it would be him.

“Why do you not want the throne?” He asked instead.

“Well,” she leaned back. “I have seen two Kings on the throne in my lifetime. The Old King and my own father. To be a good ruler one must always put the realm first. The Old King did that and in return when he was dying he had none of his children. Not even the ones that were alive wanted to see him.”

He knew that. His great aunt Saera died a few years ago and he knew when she was alive she hated her father with her whole heart and soul. She never had anything to say about him that wasn’t an insult.

“And as for the King right now,” his mother smiled wryly. “Need I say anything?”

No, she didn’t need to. He knew his mother did not care for her father. He knew his father barely cared for his brother. He thinks not feeling something for someone who was once the most important person in your life is worse than hating them. At least, hatred meant something.

“My father and great grandfather put the realm over their children. At least, my great grandfather will be known as a good ruler. My father will be neither a good ruler nor a good father. I do not wish to be them. I could never put the realm over you or your siblings. I am afraid I might make a terrible ruler.”

His mother pretends to sigh sadly. He thinks she was underestimating herself. His mother could be a great Queen. The greatest ruler in all of Westeros’ history and even Essos if she wanted to. But he knew that she no longer wanted it for the Iron throne took everything she once held dear.

Her mother, her childhood and finally her father. She had too many bitter feelings for that ugly chair.

But he also knew his mother loved him very much. Should he want the throne his mother and father would burn through Westeros so that he sits on the throne at the end. He knows his own siblings would do the same for him should he ask for it.

Especially Visenya. She would go to war for him. She would burn the world down. She would give him the throne as Visenya did for Aegon.

“We already have a throne mother. Even the Lands of Westeros owe us debts, even if they do not know it. Why sit on a throne for a Kingdom that is already ours?”

His mother smiles.

Visenya Targaryen
“Your mother will kill us if she finds out what we are doing!”

“Oh don’t worry. What she won’t know won’t hurt her.”

Visenya winked at Rhaena as they snuck into the courtesan barge. It’s not like they needed to sneak inside it with a disguise. She was quite close with many, many of the courtesans in the city of Braavos. Along with many of the brothel owners and inhabitants. So really, no need for her to sneak in.

But her mother will not be amused if she finds out that Visenya was flirting with courtesans, again, and took Rhaena with her, again.

“You are too much like your father!”

Honestly, Visenya thinks that is a compliment. Her father was the greatest dragon rider and soldier in the current age. Why would her mother say that as if it was an insult? Like sure, maybe her father had his moments before her mother where he fooled around a lot but wasn’t he loyal to her now? Besides, what harm comes from flirting with pretty men and women?

“Your mother always knows! It’s scary! Remember what happened last time?”

She winced.

Last time Rhaena and her stayed out the whole night drinking and dancing with the courtesans in the Pearl manor. Her mother was meant to be in Qarth with Aemon, only she wasn’t.

She was in their manor in Braavos waiting for her with her father, who looked highly amused by the whole thing.

By the end of it both Rhaena and her were banned from seeing each other for three months. Her mother and Aunt Laena were adamant that the girls be kept separate and locked up until they learn that you don’t need to flirt with everything that has two legs.

“But we only flirt with things that have two legs and a pretty face.”

That added in another month of separation and Visenya kept her mouth shut lest her mother keep her away from her best friend for longer.

“They won’t find out this time! I made sure!”

Rhaena looked at her as if she didn’t believe her.

She did. Sort of. She asked Alyssa to keep a watch and if her mother were to take flight, no matter the location, she was to immediately fly to her sister.

Now all her hopes lay on her little sister and hope that their sisterly bond would be enough.

As long as she does not find out that it was Visenya who, mistakenly, revealed to her father that the son of one of the three triarch was trying to court her sister. Her father was certainly not pleased about that. She would apologize to her sister later on. Maybe.

Rhaena sighed but went along with her. She always did and that’s why Visenya loved her the most. She was Visenya’s favorite person.

Well, maybe her second favorite.

Not that it matters anyway.

She enters the barge with Rhaena and Pearl spots them immediately.

“My darlings!” She calls for them with a beautiful smile.

“Pearl, my beloved!” Visenya rushes forward to kiss her cheeks.

Visenya watches as Pearl flushes. Rhaena gives her a look while Visenya smiles cheekily. It was always so fun making people blush. Especially the courtesans who were so used to being showered with gifts and compliments but would still blush whenever Visenya charmed them with pretty words.

Truly it was just meaningless fun. Her father had fun like this too before he fell in love with her mother. Rhaenyra Targaryen was the only one who had her heart and when her father swore himself to her he stayed true to her.

Visenya has yet to swear herself to someone. Besides, she doubts the one she wants would even care.

“Visenya?” Pearl calls her.

Visenya shakes herself out of it and smiles. “Your beauty is always so distracting, dearest. Apologies.”

Pearl smiles. Rhaena looks at her as if she has lost her mind.

“Will you sing for us today, dearest?”

Pearl smiles for her.

When Visenya and Rhaena stumble back into the manor they were laughing. The streets of Braavos always offered so much entertainment. She loved this city just as much as her mother did. There was music and dancing everywhere. People were fighting everyone. Truly what place is better?

She only prayed her mother wasn’t waiting for them.

Except there seems to be someone waiting for them in the dark.

Both of them froze. She cursed her sister for not warning her. Truly no regrets that she told her father how her sister was exchanging letters with that boy. She would tattle on her again if given the opportunity.

“Welcome back, sister. Had fun?”

They both relaxed at that.

“Jealous, brother? Not all of us liked to stay cooped up in our rooms like you.”

Baelon emerges from the shadow with a smirk. People say that Baelon looked like their father. Visenya didn’t think so. His eyes were different. His smirk was different. Father oozed this confidence and ruthlessness like a dragon.

Baelon was nothing like that. His ruthlessness was more calculated. Like mother.

She hated him. (You really don’t, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Rhaena’s rang in her head.)

“Baelon, what brings you to Braavos? I thought you and the Princess would be heading to Qarth.” Rhaena interrupts.

“Not anymore. Change of plans. Rhaena sober up as quick as you can and take the ship back to Driftmark. Visenya head to Qohor as soon as you can. They asked for help against the Dothraki and father is on his way.” Baelon orders.

Both Visenya and Rhaena straightened up. Orders from Baelon means it’s serious. It means it’s directly mother’s commands. She could whine if it were Aemon or Alyssa but not Baelon. And anyways, she didn’t want to whine.

To Qohor then to fight against the Dothraki. It was always fun to burn them and fight with one or two of them. She isn’t a fool to think she can hold her own against them without her dragon. Also her dragon always loved a good fight. Visenya was always eager to give him what he wanted, which is usually a bloodbath.

But why Rhaena?

“Why must Rhaena leave? She can head to Volantis and wait for us.”

She hated when Rhaena had to leave. She was her dearest friend and she hated being apart from her.

“Do not worry, sweet sister.” Visenya scowled at that. “You shall see her soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Finish up things in Qohor soon and join the rest of us.”

“Join where?”

“Why in King’s Landing!”

Visenya and Rhaena both exchanged a surprised look and looked back at Baelon to see if he was joking.

He wasn’t.

“You’re serious?”

“Extremely so. Now go both of you. Mother expects you to join us as soon as possible Visenya. Rhaena, Laenor is waiting for you. You leave at first light.”

Chapter 16: XVI

Chapter Text

Sophie

There was a restlessness in the air. Sophie could feel it. She has been serving the Queen for years now. Brought along with a group of trusted ladies to serve the Queen in a palace no one trusted her. But Sophie trusted her and cared for the Queen. Her mother had served the Queen’s mother and now it was Sophie’s turn to serve the Queen. She had the full intention to do so diligently.

She served the Queen for years now. Watched her carry the burden of the Kingdom and being a mother. There were many times over the years when she faltered, almost falling apart but she got back up every single time.

Sophie fears that if she falls today, she might never get up again.

The Keep is in a flurry of activities like never before. The Princess was returning.

A fortnight ago the King received a letter saying that the Princess would be coming for a visit after all these years. For years, the King was decaying. Rotting away like a living corpse. Sophie saw the light return to his eyes after that news. His skin no longer the stale color of a corpse. He started to appear like he was living.

All because of his daughter.

Sophie had to watch as the Queen bloodied her hands and her Princes exchanged worried looks. The Princess was far too busy staring off into space, murmuring things no one understood.

The King ordered everyone to prepare for feasts and tourneys for the return of his daughter. He even threatened the Lord Hand when he tried to argue that the Princess had shirked all her responsibilities.

“And whose fault was that Otto? Was it not my own? Our own?”

Sophie watched the Queen flinch. That man so easily blamed his wife for his own wrongs. For the wrongs of the Lord Hand.

Now, the Palace is cleaned and decorated. Golden plates and goblets laid out. The banners in red and black on the wall. Guests arrive from every corner of Westeros to see the Princess.

Sophie stood behind the Queen, watching as the throne room buzzed with anticipation.

The Princess said she would arrive on dragon back with her children. As expected from the dragon riding princess.

She waits along with the rest of the people keeping an eye on her Queen.

When they hear it all of a sudden.

A faint roar.

People whisper excitedly and crane their necks to look out the windows. A flash of gold along with bronze and silver. Lastly, a smaller dragon in red.

The Princess was here.

The buzz in the hall grew louder, the King’s smile widened and the Queen's face tightened.

The throne room waited. The minutes ticked by felt as long as hours.

Then finally-

“Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen! Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the throne!”

The doors opened and she saw the Princess.

Years ago before the Princess left, bards sang of her beauty. Men wrote poems for her. She was already a beauty at the age of ten and five.

Now, she was a girl no more but a woman. And what a beautiful woman she was.

She wore no dress like the rest of the women in the throne room but her riding leathers in black. Her hair braided down with intricate braids that Sophie had not seen before. She looked like a warrior Queen even without a weapon on her waist and far more beautiful than any woman in this hall.

She marched on inside, her children behind her, as if she owned these halls. As if she was not a Princess who ran away but a Queen walking to her throne.

She stopped at the foot of the throne, looking up at her father.

Sophie almost shivered at the look in her eyes.

There was no love there. Even as she looks at the rotting body of her own father the Princess stares at him as if he were a stranger she was passing on the street.

“Your grace.” she greets, her sweet voice ringing out as she curtsies. “My children and I thank you for hosting us.”

Behind her, three children curtsied and bowed.

Sophie was so invested in the Princess she did not even see her children.

Two boys and one girl. The eldest two resembled each other making her think they were likely twins. The youngest, probably no older than seven name days, stood tall and stared at the King, unflinching.

Each of them is a reflection of their mother. A Targaryen through and through with their silver hair, pale skin and purple eyes. Each of them is a Targaryen beauty.

The King gasped as he stood up, climbing his way down from his throne.

The Princess just stares at her father.

“Rhaenyra,” he gasps. “My child.”

She sees him whisper something. Something she was too far to hear but by the way the Queen’s jaw clenched she could tell it was not something kind to the Queen and her children.

The King hugs the Princess but the Princess’ arms remain by her side.

Sophie frowns. Does the Princess not care for her father? Is she truly that stone hearted?

When the King drew back, his gaze flitted to the children. Again, Sophie sees the way love shines in those eyes. Love he never seemed to have for his own children.

“Oh.” he gasps.

The Princess eyes her father warily before she steps back.

“My children. My third and fourth child. My twins. Aemon and Alyssa.”

She gestured towards the eldest two. Both of them bowed and curtsied again before standing straight. Both of them look like their mother but also not. Sophie finds some of their features familiar but not familiar enough to point it out. But they’re Targaryens. They all look the same in a way.

“My youngest,” she smiles at the youngest boy. “Daemion.”

The boy bowes, looking at his mother, a small quick smile on his face before he schools it back to a cold mask.

The Princess looked at her father coldly but with her children there was such warmth in her gaze. A warmth she has only seen in the eyes of the Queen but hers was also clouded with fear. The Princess’ eyes held nothing but love.

“Third and fourth? And fifth? That would mean you have more, Princess? I wonder where they are?”

That was Lord Otto.

When the Princess looks at the Hand, Sophie can’t contain her shiver this time.

While she looked at her father with indifference, she looked at the Hand with a burning hatred. Her eyes burning as if she were about to spew dragon fire and burn him. The Hand notices it and Sophie watches as he subtly flinches.

The children behind her look at him as if he was no less than the filth beneath their shoes.

“My son,” she says, coldly. “Is here. He chose to join us on a ship. We do have our retinue and someone needs to guide them and my eldest chose to do it himself. His dragon is flying with him. I suspect he is already at the dock and on his way to the Keep.”

“As for my daughter, she is with her father.”

“And where is her father?” The Hand asked.

Sophie wonders if the Hand is fearless or stupid. She thinks he might be both. Even the Queen looked at her own father fearfully.

The Princess smiled coldly.

“My dear child, where is my good son? I would like to meet the man who married my daughter.”

Behind the Princess, she sees her children exchanging smirks. Even the youngest looked gleeful. The twins exchange a look and bite their lips to keep their laughter down.

It was an exchange noticed by a lot of people. Sophie starts to wonder what kind of a man did the Princess marry for it to elicit such a reaction out of her children.

The Princess smiled sweetly.

“But why, your grace? You have already met my husband. Quite a lot of times.”

The children giggled.

Just as the King was about to ask a question again, the door to the throne room opened once more.

“Prince Baelon Targaryen of House Targaryen!”

A boy walks in, like the Princess, head held high, a smirk on his lips. A Targaryen like the Princess.

But he did not look like the Princess. No, she was very much aware of who the prince resembled. She had seen the man once, years ago in a tourney, an arrogant smirk on his lip as he placed a crown of flowers on the Princess’ head.

Sophie watches as the realization dawns on the faces of every single person in the throne room.

“After all,” she says as her son comes to stand beside her, the smirk still on his face. “You grew up with Daemon.”

Rhaenyra Targaryen

The vicious pleasure she feels as she watches her father blanch when she says she married Daemon was so sweet. The pleasure of watching his face lose color and the look of horror on the face of the c*nt, Otto, was worth it. It was worth keeping it a secret all these years.

“Your grace, an honor and a pleasure.” Baelon bowed, her sweet boy making the words sound insulting. A smirk painted on his lips made him look so much like his father. “Mother and father have told me stories about you for years. It brings me great joy to finally meet you.”

She had nothing kind to say about her father. Neither did Daemon.

The rest of the court didn’t understand what they said. She doubts even her father understood the words of her son clearly. His valyrian was never as good as Daemon and hers. He never spoke it the way they did. Her children spoke it with far more fluency than any in this court. They grew up in Volantis where their language was High Valyrian. Daemon and Rhaenyra taught them High Valyrian before Common. And then they learned more languages.

Her father stutters before smiling hesitantly at the boy.

Rhaenyra looks at her son.

“Mother, the retinue is here and already being guided to the chambers set for us. Clarisse will make sure to see that any missives received from Essos make their way to us as soon as possible.”

She smiles gratefully at her son. He was so good at handling responsibilities and making sure everything was working right. Having him by her side made things easier for her.

“And lastly, we received a letter from father. Both of them are on their way and will be arriving soon. I suspect a day or two at most.”

She breathed a sigh of relief at that. Her husband she was less worried about. Over the years Daemon has had enough wits to grow cautious but her daughter is still young and a replica of her parents at that age. Which meant she had no caution or awareness of danger. Usually, she relied on Rhaena to pull her daughter back when she tried to do something a bit too dangerous but this time she must rely on her husband.

She heard someone clearing their throat and looked to see Otto and everyone else looking at them confused.

She almost snorted.

“Apologies for interrupting your conversation, Princess, but we are all curious about what your son is saying to you. Might we ask for a translator?”

“Apologies.” Her son said, his voice ringing out loud and clear. “I forget that not everyone here is versed in Valyrian. After all, we are Valyrian and it is our mother tongue. How can we claim to be Targaryens if we do not speak the language of our ancestors?”

She sees Otto frown at that.

“Perhaps the Princess would like to rest along with her children first? It was a long journey after all.”

And that’s when she sees her again.

Alicent.

The years haven’t been kind to her once best friend. Once Alicent was beautiful with her auburn locks and slender figure with a sweet beautiful smile on her face. Men of all stations would try to woo her in hopes of marrying a beautiful wife who would be dutiful. Now, she stands at the foot of the throne in a dress of black and her mother’s steel circlet on her head. Her hair losing the shine it once had, her eyes looking tired and her skin pale.

She was beautiful still but she was no longer radiant.

She wishes she could feel sorry but heavy is the head that wears the crown. She sees the weight of it on her father and Alicent. She feels pleased instead.

“Yes, yes.” her father mutters. “A rest and then the feast-”

“Not yet.” She interrupts. “No feasts until Daemon and Visenya are here.”

She will not celebrate until she sees her husband and daughter safe and unharmed. And should there be a scratch on her daughter she will set fire to Qohor first and then the whole of Vaas Dothrak.

Her father hesitates but then nods. “Of course. Yes, a feast once my brother and my granddaughter arrives.”

She bows her head in thanks before looking at her children.

“Come, my loves. We must rest before we are ready to face the vipers.”

Her children smiled gleefully.

Chapter 17: XVII

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen

She didn’t feel emotional when she walked through the streets of King’s Landing. Nor did she feel it when she walked into Keep and through those familiar halls.

She felt emotional when she entered her old chambers located in Maegor’s Holdfast. The familiar room with the familiar furniture. She had memories here of happier days. Memories of her mother who would brush her hair and sing to her. Memories with Alicent. With her father.

Memories of a carefree, happy childhood.

“Mother?” Baelon called. Her son looked worried.

She smiled at him and shook her head.

He studies her before looking at his siblings. “To your own rooms. Bath, change and prepare for dinner. The King will insist on a family dinner.”

Her kids frowned and groaned at that but they listened to their brother. She watches amused as they all trickled out and even the servants followed them until only her and Baelon remained. The moment the door closed, her son took her hands in his and squeezed them.

“We can leave right away if you want. We do not owe the Velaryons anything, mother. They are the ones indebted to us. For years we have funded their wars on Stepstone and helped them with their trades. We have kept their secrets. We do not need to be here for them.”

“We are not here for the Velaryons. We are here for ourselves. We must see what the Velaryons are willing to sell for the throne.” Baelon frowned. “We are the ones in power here as you said, Baelon. Remember that. Besides, it is time we stop hiding.”

Baelon sighed and nodded.

“Now,” she patted his cheeks. “Do the same as you asked your siblings to do. Bath and change. We must be ready for war.”

Just as expected, they were invited for dinner.

“It’s a small dinner for the family, Princess.” The servant had said.

She wanted to laugh. She and her children were no family to any of them here. But she smiled gracefully before telling her children that the King honors them with an invite for dinner.

Her children’s sharp smiles told her all she needed to know.

Even her youngest, Daemion, had no love for this place. He had scowled when told that he would be traveling to Westeros.

“Father said it smelled and looked like sh*t! Why must we go?”

Nymeria cackled while she sighed. Truly, she blames Daemon for making their children hate King’s Landing.

Now, they were on their way to the dinner hall. All five of them dressed out of their riding attires into something more acceptable. When she entered with her children, the King and his family were already there.

“My child,” she wanted to scowl. “Come.”

He gestured to the seat on his left. The left side of the table was left empty for her own children. They all sat down together.

She looked at the people on the table and saw them. Her siblings.

Two boys and one girl. She heard about them over the years. The eldest, Aegon, is nothing but a drunken, whoring fool. She found it amusing that this boy turned into everything that Otto and Alicent said her husband was. The second was a daughter, Helaeana. She heard that the Princess was weird, head in the air and nothing like you would expect a Princess of Westeros to be. The third was a boy, Aemond, the only one with some sense in his head she heard. He was good at his studies and sword.

And she cared for none of them.

Alicent must have seen her look at her children because she spoke up.

“Introductions weren’t made in the throne room, Princess. These are my children. Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond. My youngest, Daeron, isn’t here. He is being fostered at OldTown.”

She knew that. As if it wasn’t enough that her children were barely Targaryens, she sent the youngest away to be raised by Andals making him lesser. She had to laugh.

She smiled at Alicent and then at her siblings. Aegon was already drunk. Helaena was staring at the walls. It was only Aemond who looked cautious.

“Lovely to meet you. I was so sorry to miss all of your births but I am here now. I hope to foster a good bond with the three of you. After all, I am your eldest sister. Although,” she laughed out lightly. “I am afraid our age difference might make that hard. However, you are all closer to the age of my children. I hope to see all of you bond together. It would make me extremely happy.”

Nymeria and Daemon would know she was lying. Her own children knew she was lying. If one listened closely they would be able to tell how she did not mean a single word.

“I would be happy to bond with my uncles. We have heard so much about all of you in Essos.” Baelon added.

Aemon and Alyssa nodded, smiling sweetly.

She saw Otto and Alicent flinch at that. They both knew the words that passed around about them. Especially the eldest. It was nothing good and if Rhaenyra was his mother she would have fixed his acts up ages ago.

But Alicent was always a fool and weak.

Her father looked delighted. He nodded and said the children should go riding together.

“Of course.” Alyssa said, sweetly. “We would love to take them with us on our dragons. My Vermithor does love flying.”

She truly blames Daemon for fostering the hatred her children have. Really, she did nothing of that sort. Her own hatred against her siblings was gone ages ago. Looking at them now, she felt nothing. No disgust, anger or hatred. For how can she hate people she did not know?

Her children on the other hand seemed to inherit Daemon’s pettiness. They seemed to hold grudges against the Hightowers and the children for the insults of all those years ago.

So really she should not be surprised that her Alyssa would insult her uncles and aunt so openly.

She watches as Aemond’s jaw clenches. Aegon did not seem to care and neither did Helaena. Alicent herself flinched and looked at her children worried.

“What a wonderful idea! All your mounts seem large enough for that!” Her father said joyfully.

She looked at him in disbelief. How could a man be so blind?

“I would like to fight against my uncles. Praise of your swordsmanship reaches even in Essos. It would be an honor to be given the opportunity.” Aemon says.

She resists the urge to groan. She knew she asked them to prepare for war but she did not think they would be jumping straight into battle with their weapons. She taught them better! So quickly giving out their secrets!

Truly this was all Daemon’s fault!

“Perhaps.” Aemond says.

Her children smiled gracefully.

“When will Prince Daemon and Princess Visenya be joining us?” Otto asked.

She sees her father frown from the corner of her eyes. She knew he was still not accepting of the idea that she married Daemon. Not that she cared for his acceptance. It was done. They were married for years. They had children.

“Hopefully by tomorrow. I hate being apart from my daughter for so long but Visenya adores her father the most.” she huffs.

“Just like father adores her the most.” Alyssa quipped. “She is father’s favorite.”

She rolled her eyes while her children laughed. Daemon’s favoritism for their eldest daughter never lessened over the years. To this day, it was clear that Visenya was his most beloved. That did not mean he loved the rest of them any less. No, he loved his children just like she did. Too fiercely.

“A prayer before dinner?” Alicent interjected quickly.

Her children all exchanged looks with her. They worshiped the Fourteen Flames not the Seven. Already she could see the disgust on their faces.

“Behave.” She says.

She looks at Alicent and smiles. “I’m afraid you must teach my children the way of your gods. As Valyrians we worship the Fourteen Flames. Sadly, my children do not know much about the Sevens.”

Daemon would rather burn every book than let their children learn and follow the Faith. And Nymeria would help him with it.

Alicent clenches her jaw and tries to smile. “Of course, Princess.”

She raises her hand and everyone around the table moves to hold each other’s hand. Rhaenyra watches as Alicent, Otto, her father and her siblings close their eyes and lower their heads.

“May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that were broken for far too long and may the gods protect Prince Daemon and Princess Visenya.”

Rhaenyra nearly snorts at that. Her son beside her smiles amused.

She doubts Alicent cares whether her husband and daughter survive.

The dinner passes by smoothly. Occasional chatter with few questions aimed at her and her children. Her children answer them truthfully but also do not give anything away.

She could tell it frustrated Otto.

Thankfully it ended soon when Daemion yawned, signaling that he was tired. Rhaenyra looked at him.

“Are you tired, my love?”

He nods.

She looks at her father and smiles. “Apologies, I must ask that you give us leave to retire. It was a long journey after all.”

Her father nodded and let them go.

Her children and she stood up, curtsying to her father. “Your grace.”

Then they leave the chamber. As she leaves she sees Alicent’s face twist and resists the urge to smirk at her. She may have let go of her anger but that did not mean she accepted her.

Years ago Rhaenyra swore that the only Queen she would bow to was her mother and she intended to live by that vow.

Not once so far has she addressed that woman with the title of a Queen.

The news comes the next morning when they are breaking their fast. Again, the King insisted they all eat together and were gathered in the same chambers as last night when they all heard it.

Familiar roar and a shar whistle.

She quickly got up and ran to the window, Baelon right up behind her.

She hears him exhale in relief when they see the familiar black dragon.

Her daughter and husband were here.

Viserys Targaryen

Viserys can’t say he is pleased sitting on the Iron Throne now waiting for his brother and granddaughter to arrive. At the foot of the throne waits for his daughter along with her four children, her eldest son the closest to her.

He finds it hard to look at the boy. He looks exactly like Daemon did at the age of fifteen. He remembers it so clearly. The eyes, the hair, the face, the height, everything about him was Daemon’s. No one could look at Baelon and deny that he was Daemon’s son.

Baelon, Visenya, Aemon, Alyssa and Daemion.

Each child named after their parents save for Viserys. He knew after what he did they would have no love for him but to see it so clearly hurt. Baelon after his and Daemon’s father. Aemon styled from Aemma. Alyssa after his and Daemon’s mother. Visenya for the sister his daughter had always wanted and Daemion for the grandfather of Aegon.

He looks to the great door, waiting. On his other side stood his wife and children. None of them looked pleased at the arrival of his brother. He, himself, wasn’t sure on what to feel.

His daughter was happy. This was the first true smile she has seen on her face that wasn’t aimed at her children. Her eyes were shining, her hands clenched together, a smile bloomed on her face.

Looking at her now she looked so much like his Aemma when she was smiling and happy. Something that dwindled as the years passed because of him. Now his daughter smiled for someone else. His daughter who could not even smile at him anymore.

The doors to the throne room started to open.

Rhaenyra stood up straighter.

“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince Consort to Princess Rhaenyra. Princess Visenya Targaryen of House Targaryen, daughter of Crown Princess and Prince Daemon.”

His brother strolled in with a girl who looked exactly like Rhaenyra did at the age of five and ten.

The years were not kind on Viserys. His body rotted, his hair fell and he knew his own started to sag.

But his brother seemed to grow more handsome. His hair no longer long but up to his shoulder and he could see they were braided. He wore leathers, styled like riding outfits but also as if they were armor, and on his hips was Dark Sister. The years were extremely kind on his brother.

His granddaughter strolled beside her father. A smirk on her face, mirroring the one on her father’s. She wore an outfit styled like her father, her long hair braided the way Valyrian warriors were and on her hip was a sword sheathed.

This was not just a Prince and Princess walking in. These were two warriors and the entire court was aware of it.

“Your grace.” His brother greets him, a mocking tilt on his lips.

Beside him his daughter curtsies gracefully, a sweeter smile on her lips. “Your grace.”

Before he could say anything, Rhaenyra darts forward towards Daemon.

He watches, stupefied along with the rest of the court, as she holds his face and examines it.

“You’re still handsome.”

“That was your worry? That I would not be handsome?”

“What can I say? I am vain and your pretty face is why I keep you around.”

“... Then I should thank the Gods for sparing my face.”

She huffs and caresses Daemon’s cheeks before turning to her daughter and pulling her in her arms.

Whatever she said to her daughter was unheard. Viserys, still too shocked at seeing his brother and daughter. The way their eyes shined the moment they held each other. Rhaenyra’s shoulder loosened, letting her breathe in peace. His brother reached out to hold her hand, caressing her hand softly with his thumb.

Their children quickly make their way to their father. Daemon kneels to ruffle the hair of his youngest son followed by Aemon. He looks to Baelon and clasps a hand on his shoulder before hugging his daughter. But never once did Rhaenyra and Daemon let go of each other’s hands.

This was a family, Viserys realized.

This was his daughter and brother’s family and they had no space for anyone else. Not even him.

On his side, Otto cleared his throat. Clearly displeased.

Viserys couldn’t find the strength to tell him to stop.

The family looked up at Otto. Their expressions clearly showed they were displeased at the interruption. Daemon, especially, looked at Otto in disgust.

“We welcome the Prince and Princess back to the Court.”

Everyone murmured in agreement and bowed. Daemon looked uninterested.

“Brother.” He says finally.

Daemon looks at him. He sees him frown slightly as he takes in his form.

Viserys does not know whether he should feel ashamed of the way he looks now. So weak and pathetic in front of his brother who stood strong. Daemon had once looked at him admiringly. He wanted to be like him. How he has changed from the man his brother once admired.

“A feast.” He declares quickly, hoping to shift Daemon’s attention. “In honor of the return of my brother and my daughter and their children. A week of gathering and tourney for everyone!”

The people cheered and Viserys got up hobbling out of the room with his wife by his side and their children behind them. It was easier this way. He feared he could not look at his daughter and brother any longer without feeling bitter at what was once his.

Baelon Targaryen

“No winning when fighting against them.” He warns his siblings.

His mother and father were already off to their own chambers, his mother giving him an expectant look and then looking at his siblings. She had the conversation with him the previous night after she sent them all to bed. He knew what he had to do. His father saw the exchange and only sighed. He was too used to his mother and him scheming things.

Now, he sits in his rooms with his siblings gathered around. The twins seated on the floor along with Daemion, his youngest sibling sitting near his own feet, looking up at him expectantly. Visenya leaning against the bed frames, frowning at him.

“What do you mean?” Aemon asked.

“You asked our uncles for a fight. When the offer comes you must lose. Do you understand me?”

All of them frowned. Even Daemion who would be going nowhere near the training fields here. Baelon would kill anyone in this Keep who would go near Daemion with a weapon. Daemion was too gentle. Too kind. He was the youngest. The baby.

When mother had Daemion she told Baelon that she had a feeling there would be no more siblings after Daemion. Baelon was his mother’s heir. Visenya was her warrior. The twins were her sun and moon but Daemion was her life. She loved him as if he was still her little child. Should anything happen to him his mother would lose her mind. So Baelon guarded him with his life.

“Why?” Alyssa asked with a pout.

Visenya didn’t ask but her expression said enough.

“Because we can’t show all our cards. They already know about our dragons. All these years mother has kept us a secret to protect us. Essos was our home. Everywhere we went there was ours. This isn’t home. This is war. If we reveal all our cards at once it means we lose. Our existence is a threat to them.”

He let that sink in. The twins looked at each other. Aemon inching closer to his twin. Visenya stared at him first then her gaze flickering to where Daemion sat.

“Let them underestimate us. Let them think that without our dragons we are children playing with toys. Use your words to taunt them if you have to but don’t push it. Only defend yourself when the extreme happens. Until then lie low.”

Aemon, Alyssa and Daemion trudged out of the room after that. Head low and clearly displeased but he knew they would listen to him. They always did.

“I don’t like this.” Visenya said.

“I know.”

She was not pleased. His sister was a warrior. She was determined to be like her namesake, a better warrior than Aegon the conqueror. She had trained relentlessly for years under her father. She had gone to battles more than he did. She was the best fighter that Baelon knew.

He knew she hated what he was asking of her. He hated it too.

But she had done enough with the display during her entrance to the throne room. It was a good thing she was a woman. The people here would be stupid enough to underestimate her simply because she had no co*ck.

Their mistake.

“I need you to side with me on this, sister.”

Visenya clenched her fists but she nodded.

“You know I’m always on your side.”

Baelon smiled.

Chapter 18: XVIII

Chapter Text

Alicent Hightower

She had in a way hoped that the years wouldn’t be kind on Rhaenyra just as they hadn’t been on her. She had hoped she would see misery on her face that you see on the face of every woman in court. It was a sick, twisted comfort that they all felt when they saw how none of them are happy. It further solidified the belief that happiness was a farce. It was a children's tale sold to maidens who were young and foolish. Happiness would fade and they’d be left with nothing but duty and acceptance.

Rhaenyra was nothing like that.

She had strolled into the throne room with the same arrogance as she had years ago. She had children that she didn’t hesitate to touch and love. She laughed and smiled with them openly. She glowed.

Worse of all, she was loved and happy.

She married Daemon Targaryen, which made her stomach churn in disgust, and she was happy with him.

She didn’t even wait for the greetings to be done before she ran to her husband and took his face in her hands in front of everyone. They smiled at each other. Spoke in their language something that made them both laugh and their children roll their eyes at them. She could hug her daughter without having her daughter push her away. She had a husband who looked at his children.

She felt disgusted.

She felt the bile rise in her throat the longer she watched them.

She was thankful her father ended the farce. That was what it had to be. A farce meant to sell to the court to show how much better she was than Alicent at being a mother and a wife. That she was a better candidate for the throne than her Aegon.

“She has come with dragons and Daemon Targaryen.” Her father said. “We must prepare for war, Alicent. We must find our allies.”

She looked at her children who waited for her in her own chambers. Her sweet Helaena who gazed at the spider in her hand and muttered. Her Aegon who drowned his pain in cups. Her Aemond, her brave and best boy, who was the only one who looked at his mother with worry. She would go to war for them. She would turn into a monster for them. She was a mother and she would do whatever it was to protect her children.

If a war is what Rhaenyra Targaryen wants then a war is what she shall get.

“This one, your grace?” Sophie holds the dress that she was meant to wear tonight.

A beautiful dress in black with red stitching on it and a long red cloak. She was going to pair this with the steel crown she wore every day.

“No.” She declared. “Not this.”

Sophie and Diana exchange a surprised look.

“Then which one, your grace?”

Alicent looks at her reflection in her mirror and steels herself.

The throne room grew silent when she walked in wearing green. She looked to see her House, Hightower, stood up and bowed. She sees the rest of the Houses exchange glances. On the table, the Princess and her ilk didn’t even bother standing up.

“Stepdaughter, I welcome you back home.” She says.

Rhaenyra smiles at her. A cold, sharp smile.

“I thank you, stepmother.” She twists the word making it sound insulting. “What a lovely dress you are wearing. Truly green becomes you. Far better than black and red of our House.”

Alicent seethes on the inside. She knew Rhaenyra had said that intentionally. Showing the people that there was a Queen who cast aside her Husband’s color.

Alicent cared no more. It was war she was here to rage and it was war they shall have.

Her husband went back to his speech after that. Stuttering after the interruption and toasting to his daughter and her family.

Alicent doesn’t take a sip and neither does the rest of her family.

As soon as the music started Rhaenyra’s daughter, Visenya, jumped up and took her younger brother’s hand and dragged him to dance. The boy groaned but Visenya laughed.

“Come Aemon! I can’t dance alone!”

Rhaenyra and Daemon laughed while the rest of their children shook their heads.

The girl was nothing proper. She laughed too loudly. She was too excited. Nothing like a proper princess should be but then again, her own mother was never proper.

Her father frowns seeing the girl dance with her brother.

“We must secure an alliance through Helaena. As quick as we can.” He whispered.

She was confused. She knew they were trying to find a good match for her children. For Aegon they were considering Rhaena Velaryon, a wild girl like her mother but marriage would straighten her out. It always does. For Aemond, they were considering the Baratheon girls. Both marriages would ally themselves with strong Houses.

But Helaena was difficult. Helaena was gentle and shy. They don’t understand her. Her father had relented after her many requests to take time with her daughter. She didn’t want someone cruel to take her only daughter.

But now…

“Father-”

“Don’t be foolish! The Velaryons are dancing around and the Baratheons haven't been confirmed. Do not be stupid Alicent. Look at what’s right in front of you!”
She was confused and her Father pointedly stared ahead.

She looked to where he was looking and saw Visenya Targaryen, now dancing with the son of Lord Tyrell. She looks around to see everyone stare at her with awe and wonder. She laughs as she twirls from one boy to another. The smile never leaves her lips as she enchants them all.

No one in the entire Hall can take their eyes off of her.

Not even her own sons.

She clenches her fists tightly.

“Aemond take your sister for a dance.” Her father commands.

Aemond looks at his mother and when she offers no escape he sighs, standing up to gently coax Helaena for a dance.

“Helaena will be our first step.”

She wanted to protest. Her daughter was gentle. She was not meant for this.

“You did your duty. She will learn to do hers as well.”

Rhaenyra Targaryen

“They’re all in love with her.” Rhaenyra says.

Beside her, Daemon frowns. She laughs at her husband’s expression.

They both watch as Visenya dances around the room, charming everyone as she laughs with them.

“They can be as in love with her as they want. They aren’t getting any closer.”

“Will you be trying to kill every single person that tries to woo our daughter?”

“My love, you cannot think that I will be the one committing atrocities?”

They both glance at Baelon who stares at his sister with a pleasant smile on her face.

They both exchange an amused smile.

“She’s so much like you.” Daemon says.

She rolls her eyes. Her daughter was more her father than her.

“Right now she is all you. You had this magic too. You still do. The way you can make anyone love you so easily. You had me from the moment I saw you.” He whispers.

Her breath hitched. He held her hand and softly caressed it. If she could, she would kiss him right here in front of everyone. Propriety be damned.

With the way Daemon looked at her he knew it as well.

“Don’t make me kiss you here. My father might die.”

She said it as a joke but she saw the way her husband frowned, then looked at his brother. Her father was sick. He was dying. She didn’t care. But she knew Daemon cared. He was his brother. Daemon may act as indifferently and he may say things that showed otherwise but she knew him. He cared for his brother.

That is something that would never change and she can’t ask him to give that up either. She was not entitled to that.

“You should take Baelon for a dance. Our son might try to murder another who steps a bit too close to Visenya. Besides, it’s getting amusing now.” He smirks at the show in front of them.

Aemond stepped in with his sister. Both of them were twirling around stiffly. They had none of the grace that her own children had. Helaena looked as if she was being forced. She probably was.

Rhaenyra glanced at Otto and Alicent.

She almost sneered at the green dress she wore.

She called for war. A little girl playing at war. Does she understand what war was? Her who was sheltered in a palace and never had to get her hands dirty? Her, who donned on the seven pointed star, and flinched at a cold smile, wanted to wage war against Rhaenyra. She was the uncrowned Queen of Essos and this green girl wanted a war with her.

“Foolish of them to think that girl could even amount to half of what our daughter is. Visenya’s beauty outshines everyone’s. Except of course yours and Alyssa’s, my love. The three most beautiful in the realm.” He quickly adds in.

She laughs at that and shakes her head at that. “I think I can relinquish my crown for beauty to our daughter.”

“The only Queen of beauty in my eyes will be you.”

She giggled and kissed him on his cheek before calling her son. “Baelon, be a good son and dance with your old mother.”

Baelon huffs and stands up, a smile on his lips. “Mother, stop saying you’re old. You’re still the most beautiful woman to exist.”

“On that, we can both agree.” Daemon says.

She takes her son’s hand and joins her children.

Viserys Targaryen

“I’m surprised to see you’re still alive. With the way you look right now you look more like a corpse than a living human.”

He expected his brother to corner him at some point. He expected it later at night as he would sneak past the guard. Maybe in the morning.

Maybe not at all.

But Daemon cornered him as the feast was ongoing. His daughter and grandchildren danced with the guests. His son and daughter were dancing as well. A rare sight. His wife and Hand off talking with their family.

It was just him and Daemon sitting at the front now. Daemion was there but Daemon had nodded to his side and one of their servants came forward, calling for him. Daemion looked at his father and his father nodded at him.

The boy left without protest. Only stopping to let his mother kiss his cheeks.

“He listens to you.” Viserys said, looking at Daemion.

“He is my son.”

“Children don’t always listen to their parents.”

“Children listen to their parents when their parents are willing to listen to them and treat them like they’re people. Not when they’re treated as if they’re objects that can be discarded easily.”

He glares at his brother who moves to the seat beside him, not even ruffled by Viserys’ glare.

“But we aren’t here to talk about my parenting skills, brother. Or the lack of in your case. What did the Maesters you so trust say?”

Viserys hesitated. It’s not that he didn’t trust Daemon. He did. Or, maybe he didn’t. He had gone years listening to his council saying that his brother would do anything for his throne. He always brushed it off. His daughter was his heir. She would have heirs. He had other children as well.

Now, his brother was here. Married to his heir. Her heirs were his heirs.

The throne was within reach. All he needed to do was wait for Viserys to die. And that didn’t seem too far away.

“They’re trying. The infection gets worse.” That’s all he says.

“Hmm.” Daemon sips his wine, looking at him. “Did you get a second opinion? Healers from other places, perhaps?”

“What’s the point? The Maesters are capable.”

“Yes,” he sneers. “Capable enough to cut open a Queen and deliver a dead babe. Very capable.”

Viserys flinched. He knew his brother was fond of his wife. He cared for her in the way that Daemon can care for someone bearing the name of a Targaryen. His wife’s father was no Valyrian but their aunt was a Targaryen Princess and that was enough for Daemon.

Daemon sighed. “That wasn’t my point. You should get a second opinion. We have healers from Essos with us. They cared for the children and Rhaenyra for years. You should have them take a look.”

“You won’t be happy if I die? The throne will be yours.”

He meant it to hurt Daemon. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he thinks he is tired now. He does not have the energy to be pleasant.

Daemon merely raises an eyebrow. “If you still have Rhaenyra as your heir then it will be her throne.”

“You want the throne. Your ambition knows no end, Daemon. You will use my daughter for it.”

Daemon looked at him as if he said something highly amusing.

“You really underestimate her?” he says.

Viserys frowned. “I have faith in her. I don’t have faith in you. You killed your wife to marry my daughter for ambition.”

He remembers when he got the news of the death of Rhea Royce. She had died on a riding accident. She fell and broke her neck. It was a tragic accident that took the life of a strong woman who was capable of so much. As his brother’s wife, she got the appropriate funeral befitting the consort. But Daemon never came to her funeral. He didn’t even know if Daemon knew.

Now, looking at his brother with his daughter he suspected that he had done the job himself. Had her killed so the way would be clear.

“You think I killed her?” He asked, his lips twisted into a smile.

“You refuse to confess your crime? You had no love for her.”

“True. I did not mourn her. I was happy she was gone but I did not kill her.”

“Your lies will not work on me.”

“Believe what you will.” He drank the last of his wine from the cup. “But I am not the dragon that killed the sheep. Anyways, our conversation was about your health. Whether you choose to accept it or not matters not.”

Then he simply walks away from him. Making his way to Rhaenyra who was dancing with Laenor Velaryon. Once, that would be a match. If things were different, his daughter would be by Laenor’s side.

But now he watches as his daughter’s eyes shine and she reaches out for Daemon, pulling him towards her.

Daemon Targaryen

They’re both alone in their room. A separate room was prepared for Daemon but he and Rhaenyra always shared one space. They didn’t like being apart from each other. And in this viper’s nest he would never allow her to be alone.

He watches as she unlaces her gown, drifting back to the conversation with his brother.

He knew his brother didn’t trust him. That no longer bothered him.

But the lack of faith in Rhaenyra was insulting. That he thinks Rhaenyra is a silly girl who can be controlled by her husband was almost funny. He nearly laughed.

“How did the talk with my father go?” She asked once she was rid of her heavy gown and changed into her silk night dress.

Daemon watches as she brushes her hair. He knows she doesn’t like being here. He knows she wants to go back just like he does. Just like their children.

They outgrew Westeros and its cages.

But..

“Are you sure you don’t want the throne?” he asked.

She stopped brushing and turned to look at him.

“What brought this on?”

She could be a good Queen. Not because she cared for people but because she knew what worked for people. She knew how to make things better. That would make her a better ruler than his brother, but then again his brother was so bad at being a ruler anyone would be better than him.

“Just curiosity. You’re still his heir. He is about to die. You can become Queen.”

“I don’t need a crown to be a Queen.”

True. She ruled Essos from the shadows.

But still.

“You can have the throne. You really don’t want Aegon’s throne?”

She puts the brush down and frowns at him. Then gets up and walks towards where he sat on their bed. She stands before him for a few seconds before straddling his lap. His hands instantly reached out to hold her hips. She runs her hands through his hair.

“I already have the throne I want. Right here. Right now.”

Daemon doesn’t hesitate to pull her down for a kiss.

“No other throne could compare to this.” She whispers.

Daemon allows her to push him down on her bed.

She was right. No throne. No crown. No kingdom.

Nothing could compare to this.

Chapter 19: XIX

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen

“Where are the children?”

“You have to specify which ones you’re talking about.”
“Our daughters.”

“Ah… I think they’re out already? Rhaena took her under the guise of meeting her ‘cousin’.”

“You sure they didn’t sneak out?”

Rhaenyra winces at that. Laena smiles sympathetically. They were both on the same boat here. They knew their daughter. Or, they knew Visenya. She could only pray that her daughter had enough sense to not sneak out and run off to the silk street. This was not Lys.

“For both our sakes I pray that our daughters have enough sense to understand King’s Landing isn’t a place for dalliances with pretty girls and boys.”

Laena sighs. “I doubt that.”

So did she. But she had to have faith that Baelon reined his sister in.

At least, she hoped her daughter would rein herself for today. It was the day of the tourney and she did not want to hear that her daughter was found kissing some whor*. Again.

“Well, where are the others?” Laena asked.

“The boys are with their father. They’ll join us in the box before it starts. I think Daemon wanted to show them whatever they do in these tourneys. And Alyssa is with Helaena.”

Laena looked surprised at that and Rhaenyra smiled. She was surprised as well. But her Alyssa had always been the gentler one. Not in the sense that she would hesitate with weapons. No, Alyssa could easily kill someone with her polearm, but was sweeter, cared more about her appearance, and had dreams that little girls did. She was kind to others in ways that her other children weren’t.

Rhaenyra thinks that she and Daemon set unrealistic expectations for her children. They see their parents love each other through everything and love each other the most that they expect something like that. Alyssa more than the others. Visenya had dalliances, but Alyssa had courtings. She had boys lined up writing sweet letters to her that she would read while blushing. She would have flowers given to her. She would have them asking her for a dance at a feast.

Her daughter dreams of the kind of love you see in books and poems. The kind she thinks her parents have. She doesn’t have the heart to tell her that love doesn't work like that.

For as long as she can, she will protect her daughter’s dreams. She will let her dress up in the prettiest dress so she can be the prettiest girl. She will let her read silly poems that boys wrote for her.

She will do what a mother should do.

She supposes that she sees something of herself in Helaena. Or perhaps she sees only a girl alone in a court with vipers and wants to be kind to her. She was better than Rhaenyra.

“Princess Helaena… well better her than anyone. I do feel sorry for her.”

Rhaenyra says nothing as she sips her tea. She knows about Helaena. She heard all about how the girl was weird and crazy. Her lips would curl up in distaste every time she would hear it. She had no love for her sister, but the people called Helaena names because she did not act like a lady should. That kind of discrimination is what she cannot tolerate.

“I suppose Corlys is with them as well. Daemion would find him.” Laena mused.

“Yes.” She laughed. “They are as attached as Rhaena and Visenya.”

“Let’s hope they’re not half as bad as their sisters.”

Both of them laughed. They could complain all they want but they both knew that the bond that their children had made them the happiest. Rhaenyra grew up in a far too big home with little friends. To see her children have siblings and friends warmed her heart.

“Is Laenor participating?”

“What do you think?”

Both of them exchange smiles. Men and their need to participate in violent acts to make a statement. She will never understand that. But then again, her daughter would jump in and join if she could so maybe it’s not just men.

“My father still hasn’t come to talk to you?” Laena asked.

Rhaenyra looked away from her friend. They were in her room. Laena was here under the guise of greeting her cousin as she couldn’t speak to her properly yesterday. They knew it would spark talks but there were already talks. No one would know what was spoken here and that was what mattered. They had privacy.

“Not yet. I suspect he will soon.” Rhaenyra smiled sadly.

Laena pursed her lips.

Rhaenyra felt sorry for her friend. For all the freedom Laena had she was still a Velaryon. She was still tied to her House while Rhaenyra wasn’t. It was known that Laenor would not have a child. He would never sire a son or a daughter. Laena had two. One for driftmark and one spare. Not a spare if they get the throne.

“I don’t want it.” Laena says. “My father thirsts for it. I do not. Neither does my mother. What is past is past.”

“Your father is an ambitious man.”

“Yes.” she snorts. “And his ambition will cost us. I know you won’t side with him. I know you won’t be against him either. You are here for amusem*nt, cousin. Nothing more. You gain nothing by helping us.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong either. Rhaenyra was here for amusem*nt. Mainly, she was here to show her father that she was happy while he was miserable. She was here to see the misery of people in Westeros as they suffered from the rule of the Hightowers. Mostly, she was here to scare them.

But if she gained something out of a transaction with Corlys, she wasn’t so opposed to it.

“Father has nothing to offer you, Rhaenyra. You know that. He counts on the love you have for me and mine. Besides, mother’s claim to the throne is low. It comes after you, your five children, the Queen’s brood and Daemon. No Lord of this continent will support her. If you don’t support us then no one will. Dragons aren’t invincible. One Rhaenys perished because of that. I do not want to lose my mother like that as well.”

“Then I supposed the throne could go to the Hightowers. Let them burn the kingdom down. I shall enjoy it from Essos. You are all welcome to join me anytime.”

“Do your children not want it?”

“I asked Baelon. He said that we already have a throne in Essos.”

Laena would know Baelon had no intention of giving up Essos. He worked with his mother for years building their trades and alliances. Her son was adamant on succeeding her.

“Visenya?”

“She would die before she sat down on a throne. She was meant for battles like her father.”

“Aemon?”

Rhaenyra hesitated. Her children were all so different from one another and yet they all inherited Daemon and Rhaenyra’s traits. Their wild and brash nature. Their disregard for rules and the norms.

Her son, Aemon, was so different. He was her calmest child. Even as an infant he never cried. He never asked for anything. He was not kind like his twin. He simply did what was expected. He was not like Baelon. Baelon was like Rhaenyra. Visenya was Daemon through and through. Daemion was the baby who was spoiled by everyone. Aemon was… dutiful. He would do what was needed of him. She knew if it came down to it he was the child of hers that would ascend the throne for their family.

Aemon didn’t care about anything. He only cared about Alyssa. They weren’t like Baelon and Visenya. Aemon simply saw himself as his sister’s protector. She was the only thing that could stop him from taking the throne.

“He would not leave Alyssa.”

“That is not an answer. You did not ask him.”
“I don’t need to.”

“Rhaenyra…”

“Aemon is still a child. I will not give up my son.”

Laena hesitated. Rhaenyra knew her. She understood Laena’s position. Laena was not meant for the throne either. She was meant for the skies like Daemon and Visenya. Politics was not her thing. She would hate to shackle someone she considers so dear to the cursed chair.

But she would sacrifice everyone else before her children.

And she would sacrifice the world for her husband.

“Leave it be. Nothing is set in stone.” Laena sighed.

“I agree. Right now, we have a tourney to attend. I look forward to seeing who unseats my husband.”

Laena snorts.

Visenya Targaryen

“This is disappointing.” She mutters.

Rhaena huffs a laugh. “Did you expect more?”

They were both sitting in the box along with their mothers and brothers. With the exception of Aemon who was their father’s squire for the joust. She sat in front of her mother, who was given the seat of honor beside her grandsire. Her mother kept a pleasant, but fake, smile on her face as she talked with the King.

Visenya turned away from that.

She knew Baelon hated the King. Baelon adored their mother the most out of all of them and he takes any slight against her as a slight against himself. She knew Aemon could not care about anyone that was not Alyssa or their family of seven. Daemion was too young to even understand anything. Visenya just… felt pity for the man. She could see that he loved her mother. She sees the same love in his eyes for her mother as the one she sees when her father looks at her. And given how he treats his other children, it is clear that he only has love for his mother.

At least her father loved all his children. But then again, her mother was the love of Daemon Targaryen’s life. She supposes he will love anything that has a piece of Rhaenyra. For her grandsire, the only piece he had was Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“Are you enjoying the joust, Princess Visenya?” She broke out of her thoughts when she heard someone call for her.

On her side sat Princess Helaena. Her aunt.

She almost grimaced when she was called ‘Princess Visenya’. She knew as her mother and father’s daughter she would be given the title of a Princess, but she hated it. She’s been called Princess before. Mostly by her father. Sometimes by the servants who worked for her family. But even then they never said, ‘Princess.’ It was always darilaros.

“It’s… entertaining.” She tried to smile.

It really wasn’t. Her ears were ringing with how loud the crowd's cheers were. Her cheeks ached from the fake smile she painted on her face. She was tired of clapping every time a man was thrown off his horse. It was a bore.

This was no real battle, she sneered in her head.

What do these men know of battles? What do they know what it feels like to cut through flesh? What do they know about the smell of burning flesh as people screamed?

This was no battle. This was just a play.

Princess Helaena smiled. “You don’t need to lie.”

Visenya’s smile wavered. She did not know what to feel about the Princess. She supposes she feels pity for her for having such an awful family. She feels sad that the girl is talked about by others because of how she behaves. She knew that people would call her weird and crazy as well if given the opportunity. Her father would have their heads for that. She supposes that’s why Helaena was beside her. Alyssa probably thought the girl needed better company.

Beside Helaena sat her little sister. Alyssa was frequently clapping, her lips painted pink and curled up in a smile as she cheered for the men. Her father gave her a look when she took her sister with her. She knew he warned her to keep the other men away from her sister.

She snorted at that. She didn’t need him to tell her that. None of these men would ever be good for her sister.

But she smiles at her sister whenever she looks over at her excitedly.

“Jousting is…. Something.” She says after a while. “I prefer a more direct form of fighting. Things with more blood.”

“There will be blood soon.” Is what Helaena says to that.

Visenya was about to ask her what she meant when her sister jumped up and started to clap and cheer loudly.

Her father enters the field.

She feels herself smile, truly this time, and clap loudly along with the rest of the crowd as they all welcome their Prince. Years passed and yet people still loved her father.

‘As they should.’ she thought.

“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen! Prince of the City!”

Her father takes a turn around the field, relishing in their cheer and she looks at her mother. Her mother sees Visenya and only rolls her eyes. Even the frown on her grandsire’s face doesn’t dampen their excitement.

“He’s a peaco*ck.” Rhaenyra tells her.

Visenya and Rhaena laugh.

“Father would be insulted at that. He’d say he’s a dragon.” Baelon says. He sat beside Rhaena and was quiet the whole time. Occasionally nodding and pretending as if he wasn’t just as bored as Visenya.

“Well not now. Right now he’s a peaco*ck strutting around.”

She says with such a fond smile on her face that Visenya can’t stop smiling. She looks at her parents and she thinks this is what she wants. This is what they all want. To have someone who loves her even half of the love her parents have for each other which is already plenty.

“Father must win! He promised to crown me Queen of love and beauty!” Alyssa exclaimed.

“Sweet sister, there is no one here whose beauty compares with yours. Except for our mother’s.” Baelon says. “Forgive me, cousin.” He quickly adds to Rhaena.

Rhaena rolls her eyes. She was used to Baelon’s mischief.

Visenya rolled her eyes as she was used to Baelon poking and annoying her.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees the Queen frown. She looked at them distastefully as if she was somehow above them.

Visenya sneers.

She felt their eyes on her last night when she danced. She saw how quick they were to send Helaena to dance when they saw how it was Visenya people had her eyes on.

It was disgusting. Using your own daughter in such a way was disgusting.

By the Queen’s side sat her Uncle Aegon. The sun was probably not even up when the man started drinking. Her father told her to keep away from him. They heard rumors of his acts and her father had firmly told her if he even dares to touch Visenya she can cut off his hands.

She’d do worse if he dares to. She felt his eyes on her as well. If this were Essos, she’d cut them out and feed them to Cannibal like candies.

Her father galloped over to where they sat. Alyssa smiled with excitement.

“I am certain I can win this, but I think my luck would fare better if I had the favor of my beautiful daughters.”

Alyssa nodded and quickly ran over to where her father waited. Visenya took her time. She knew her father did it just so no one else could come claim her favor.

His smile told her that much.

“You’re too much.” She said as she threw her laurel. “I wish you luck, Father.”

As she walks back to her seat she sees her mother smile widely and the King looks thoughtfully at the scene.

Her father easily unhorses the first man.

She cheers.

She watches as her father unhorses one man after another until the last one. This was a knight she did not know well. Or at all.

Well she did not know any of them.

She expected the joust to start soon and she waited.

Except the unknown man rode towards the box.

“It would be an honor if Princess Rhaenyra would bestow her favor on me as she had once before.”

Visenya was surprised. Beside her, Rhaena gasped. Baelon frowned at the Knight.

Asking for the favor of the Crown Princess was daring. Asking for the favor of the Crown Princess while she was married to Prince Daemon was insane. This man was crazy.

But her mother simply stood up with a small smile. Ever graceful as a Queen should be.

“Ser Cole, I wish you luck.”

She didn’t need to look at her father to know he was furious. Her father had taken his daughters’ favors because he thought no one would be stupid enough to ask for his wife’s. Her father was a dragon.

Dragons do not like to share.

“Foolish man.” Baelon scoffed.

“I do pity the man who will have to sort through the mess after Uncle is done with him.” Rhaena said, her face twisted as if she felt sorry but Visenya could see the way her eyes shined with mirth.

Visenya snorted at that.

She expected the joust to end as quickly as the ones before. She would smile when the man would lie on the grounds after her father unseated him.

Except it didn’t end so soon.

She watched as the man broke her father’s lance before he grabbed another lance and raced again. This time the knight, Ser Cole, was unseated.

She thought that was it.

But the Knight screamed for his sword.

Visenya grinned, leaning forward. Watching her father fight was always something she loved. Even now she had so much to learn from him. She thinks she can never stop learning from him.

She watched as her father attacked the man with force while the knight was forced to defend himself. Blocking each attack with his own sword as he was forced to back off. Her father didn’t fight with brute force. He fought a well calculated battle. He knew how to hit and where to hit to make his opponents crumble.

He was good. Visenya would admit that. Not every man could block off almost every blow of Dark Sister.

Almost.

Her father moved quickly when the knight stumbled, hitting him with the pommel of his sword causing the helmet of the knight to fall off.

He was pretty. She could admit that as well.

“What a pretty face. Shame it’s going to be scarred.” She says.

Rhaena giggles.

The knight quickly stands back properly and moves towards her father. Her father blocks him and pushes him, slicing his sword towards his face and cutting it across his cheek. She sees the blood. The first to be drawn so far in the joust.

She looks at Helaena who was staring up at the sky, mumbling something. She did say blood would be drawn. Huh.

She was about to call for her but she sees her father disarm the man and knock him down. He points Dark Sister against him.

She didn’t need to hear the words. Only a fool would continue under these circ*mstances.

She cheered loudly with Alyssa as her father looked up at them, smirking in triumph.

Rhaena Velaryon

Rhaena was meant to be with Visenya right now and head off to another feast. But she forgot the pair of earrings she got for Visenya and decided to quickly go to her mother’s room where she kept the box. The room was supposed to be empty.

She hears her mother and grandsire argue.

“Rhaenyra will not support us if she has nothing to gain, Father!”

“You must convince her to. This is the only way.”

“You overestimate my friendship with her. She loves me but she will not risk herself for something that will not gain her anything.”

“A Velaryon deserves to be on the throne.”

“The throne will always go to a Targaryen. If I take the throne I have to discard the name. Our name. So will Rhaena. The people will sooner accept the Hightower brood than us. At least, they are Targaryens.”

“Then if Rhaenyra won’t side with us there are other ways to have our blood on the throne.”

“What? What do you… No. NO! You are not giving them my daughter. I refuse to let that monstrous boy marry my daughter. Father!”

“She will be Queen!”

“He is a monster!”

Rhaena quickly ran. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she gasped.

She knew there were talks of her marriage to Prince Aegon. Something she would rather die than commit too. She knew of his doings. She knew the maids that would run out of his room in tears. The whor*s he brutalized.

No. She would rather die before she married him.

“Rhaena?” She snaps out when she hears Visenya’s voice.

She made her way to Visenya without knowing. As always.

She said nothing and just hugged her. Even as Visenya kept on asking her what was wrong she said nothing and hugged her tight.

She could say what she heard to Visenya. She knew Visenya would march to her grandfather and try to kill him. She would set him on fire or make Cannibal eat him. She might just kill the Prince to make sure Rhaena didn’t need to marry him. She would do whatever it takes to protect her.

“Nothing. I just… feel dizzy.”

Visenya didn’t look like she believed her. But she wouldn’t push for answers. She would wait until Rhaena told her the truth. She doesn’t know if she could ever speak out loud. Visenya would burn people for her. But it’s not death that would free Rhaena from the terrifying prospect.

It was Rhaenyra or any of her children taking the throne.

Chapter 20: XX

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Years passed and still the small council meetings remain as useless as ever. All they did was talk over each other and not find solutions to the problems that exist.

If she were to be honest, it has gotten worse over the years.

She watches as the men squabble over the taxes and whether it should be increased or not. Her son seeing her bored fills her cup with wine. She smiles at him.

If she could, she would go flying with her children right now. She knows Visenya, Aemon, Alyssa and Daemion made their way to the Dragonpit to fly. She knew their father went with them too. Daemon had given her a nasty smile as he walked away from her that made her nearly throw a rude gesture towards him.

Baelon, her only child at this point, decided to stay with his mother and accompany her to the council. When objections were raised, Baelon sweetly smiled at them.

“I am my mother’s heir.”

They all blanched at that, but they couldn’t deny when the King allowed him in. He was to be the cupbearer.

Now, she almost feels bad for making her son suffer through these. She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her father insisting that she join as the ‘heir.’ Now she is made to suffer by listening to the issues about raising taxes and she wants to ask them what they have been doing with the money all these years. She wants to look at Jason Lannister who took over the position of Master of Coin a few years back and ask him whether they have repaid the loans they took from the Iron Bank yet (they haven’t). How the people of King’s Landing are living in filth and they have yet to do anything about it. Things are getting more expensive. Crimes are increasing in the city. There are no care facilities for the sick.

And these men are squabbling over taxes.

“What do you think, Rhaenyra?” Her father asked.

She almost jumped at that. Her father asking her for her opinion? She could see almost everyone around the table being surprised. Even the Queen pursed her lips.

“I don’t think my opinion will count, your Grace. After all, I have not been living in the city for a while.” Yes, over a decade. “But perhaps you shouldn’t think of taxing people who receive no benefits from the rise in it? Given the state of the city?”

The men shared a glance but she could see some of them agree with her. Some being Lord Corlys.

She was still waiting for the man to approach her. If he didn’t, she simply planned to leave in a few weeks. The longer she stays the more work piles up. She knew Alyssa wanted to go to YiTi and she promised to take her with her the next time.

She wanted to go back home. Only a week here and she was tired already.

“The Princess is right.” Corlys said.

“We can consider the issue of taxes after.” Otto said, dismissing it as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Rhaenyra nearly sneered at him.

“There is something else to discuss.” Otto said, looking at Alicent.

The Queen glances around before standing up. “I wish to announce that with the blessing of the King, my daughter, Princess Helaena, is to marry Tyland Lannister.”

Rhaenyra and Baelon exchange a surprised look before they look at Jason Lannister. The man looked smug and gloated about it. She looked at her father next and he had a small smile on her face.

She wonders if Helaena was aware of this or did Alicent turn into her father and push her daughter into a marriage she would never be happy in.

She sees Corlys frown at that and she almost laughs when he glances at her. Seems like he will make his move quick.

“I offer my congrats to you and Princess Helaena.” Rhaenyra says, bowing slightly.

Alicent hesitates then smiles at her. “Thank you, Princess.”

“Speaking of marriages, we also have other Princesses to consider now.” Jasper Wylde said.

Rhaenyra stiffened as did her son on her side. The entire council looks at her.

“My daughters are still young.” She said,

“A betrothal is not harmful. It would serve the realm well.” This was Otto.

Rhaenyra clenched her fists under the table. She wanted to take her dagger out and leap across the table to stab the man to death.

On her side, Baelon grew quiet and simply stared at the Hand.

“There are many eligible men for the Princesses betrothal. Those that would serve the realm and the Crown. There’s the Tyrells. There’s also the Royce.”

Rhaenyra nearly snorted at that. Royce. She already killed one. If needed she would kill them all to save her daughter.

“No.” She said firmly. “As I said, my daughters are still young. They will not be betrothed. I do not intend to send them away so soon. The Queen kept her daughter by her side until she was eight and ten to betroth her.”

Alicent scowled at her for that but she didn't care. She didn’t intend to stay in this rotten city for more than a few weeks. There’s no need to go along with it. And if they insisted then she would grab her children and fly away right now.

“If the Princess can’t part with her daughter, then there are closer options.” Otto says, with a cold smile.

Rhaenyra was confused.

“There’s Prince Aemond. Targaryen custom would allow either of the Princesses to marry their Uncle. As the Princess herself has married her uncle.”

Rhaenyra froze, cold seeping in as she hears what Otto suggests. How dare he compare her and Daemon’s situation with this absurd betrothal? Daemon and Rhaenyra loved each other. They married each other for love. How dare he?

She wants to kill him. She knew that he was suggesting this to what he assumed would be to shorten her own alliances. He expected that she would tie her daughters with other families like he did. She suspected he would think that the King would be happy with this idea. It would bring back the two sides of the family.

Only it was meant to be a one sided hostage situation.

She sees the King begin to smile a bit as if the prospect was good. She sees Alicent look at her father in shock and outrage. As if she had any right to. As if her daughters weren’t better than her half breed, dragonless sons. One who was a monster that Otto once accused her husband to be.

Added to the insult of this, Otto suggested the second son. As if her daughters should get the second sons meant to inherit nothing.

“That is-” The king started but stopped when interrupted.

But she wasn’t the one who interrupted.

“No.” Baelon’s voice rang out.

The entire council looks at her son in surprise as if they forgot he was there.

Baelon looked at Otto Hightower coldly. His eyes were burning.

“My sisters will not be marrying Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond.” He declares.

The council was quiet. Even Rhaenyra was surprised. Baelon usually stayed quiet and only spoke up after Rhaenyra gave him the permission to.

“This is a decision for the elders-”

Baelon snorted, interrupting Maester Mellos. “This is a decision about the lives of my sisters. I will speak. You will not, otherwise I will feed you to Balerion. Along with anyone who speaks of this again. Balerion doesn’t have much fondness for human meat but when ordered he’ll eat anything I tell him to.”

The council paled at his threat. She sees even Otto inch away at that.

Rhaenyra smirked internally. It was easy to forget that Baelon was also Daemon’s son.

“My son is right.” She declares.

She sees her father wanting to protest and quickly glares at him. “They’re my daughters and we decide who they marry. Daemon and I. None of you have the right to.”

“Besides,” Baelon says again. “Alyssa is only two and ten. Far too young for any talks.”

“Princess Visenya is already four and ten. She turns five and ten soon. Women marry at that age.” Jason Lannister interjected.

Rhaenyra and Baelon snort. Visenya would unleash Cannibal on the House and the land that would try to do so.

“We have made our decision. I don’t want to hear this again. In fact, why not invite my husband in if we are going to talk about his daughters.”

She knew no one here would suggest this in front of Daemon unless they have a death wish.

“Princess-” The Hand started, but was interrupted.

“Let’s adjourn this for the day.” Her father said, trying to smile and placate everyone after Rhaenyra and her son threatened them all. The others except the Hand and the Queen quickly emptied the room. She sees Corlys linger a bit and stare at her. He nodded at her when he walked out.

“Leave me and my daughter be.” Her father orders.

The Hand frowns but leaves along with the Queen. Her son waits for her sign before he leaves.

As soon as the door closes her father looks at her.

“Rhaenyra,” her father starts. “It’s a betrothal. It would be good-”

“I said what I said. They’re too young. They will choose who they marry. My daughters will marry for happiness just as I did. I will not subject them to a loveless marriage.”

She looks at her father meaningfully. Her father sighs and tries to protest but she will hear no more.

“Daemon will kill your sons. He already threatened to kill people for trying to woo Alyssa. Don’t think your sons will be an exception to this.”

He nearly killed the son of the current triarch in Volantis. It was only Baelon’s interruption that stopped him. Daemon would set fire to this realm before handing his daughter to them.

“Visenya is old enough-”

“Visenya is for Baelon.” She said firmly. “You will have to fight Baelon for that. I would urge you not to. He may be my son but he is also Daemon’s. It is out of respect for me that my son has yet to use violence here. Do not see him speak sharp words and think he’s a tame cat. He is no less than his father.”

Her father sighed, tired and exhausted. A part of her feels bad but she doesn't care.

“If that is all, father, my children are waiting for me.”

“Wait. One last thing. Tonight… join me. I must share something of importance with you.”

She was confused.

“Years ago, I shared something with you. Tonight… I would like you to hear from me again.”

Rhaenyra thought her father would talk to her about her ‘duties’ as the heir to the throne. He would remind her of what was expected from her. She was prepared to deflect it or pretend that she would do it. If only to amuse herself and see what other nonsense Otto comes up with aside from trying to betroth her precious children with his useless spawns.

She expected she would be having a quiet dinner with her father while Daemon and their children meet the Velaryons for dinner.

There was no dinner waiting for them in her father’s chamber. She sees his model of Valyria and thinks of the time Daemon and her flew high above the Valyrian peninsula and never flew closer to the ground. They took what happened to their ancestor, Aerea, and the dragon, Balerion, quite seriously.

Near the model was a brazier and inside it was her father’s dagger.

“That dagger once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror.” She jumped up when she heard her father’s voice. He slowly made his way towards her, staring at the fire.”It was Aenar’s before that. And before that… well it is difficult to know.”

She was confused. Did he bring her here to give her a lesson on their family weapons? She already had a Valyrian steel dagger of her own.

“Years ago when I named you heir, I entrusted you with something far greater than anything else. Something bigger than all of us.”

Again, she was confused. What did he-

Oh.

She remembers then. All those years ago prior to the ceremony of the lords of Westeros swearing their oaths, her father had handed something down to her which he claimed passed on from King to heir. It was his way of showing that he was trusting her with the throne.

She had forgotten about it. More like she made herself forget it once she gave up the throne all those years ago. Sometimes, it would cross her mind and she wanted to tell Daemon about it. But knowing her husband, he would brush it off as a silly fantasy of her father.

She didn’t understand the point of bringing it up right now. He was better off entrusting it to his son rather than her. She didn’t care for it.

“Before Aegon’s death, the last of the valyrian pyromancers hid his song in his steel.” He picked up the dagger from the brazier. The steel glowing orange and red from the heat.

He held it out to her.

She took it. She sees the inscription on it and reads it.

She goes still.

Her father, not knowing what she was thinking, continues on, “From my blood comes the prince that was promised, and his shall be the song of ice and fire.”

Rhaenyra doesn’t say anything. Her ears are ringing. She thinks she can hear the blood rush through her and her heartbeat pounding. She feels lightheaded.

She doesn’t hear anything her father is saying. All she hears is her mother’s screams.

This is why…

“Is this why?” She asked suddenly.

Her father stops. Clearly confused. “Is this what?”

“Is this why you constantly forced my mother to have a child? For a son?”

Her father doesn’t say anything. His silence was an answer.

She laughs. It’s harsh and cold making her father flinch.

He does not understand.

He does not understand that she wants to take the dagger and stab him with it right now.

“Read it.” She orders him.

“I just-”

“Read it again!”

He sighs. “From my bloo-”

“In Valyrian. Not in common.”

Once again he looks confused by her demand but complies.

“Hen ñuha ānogar māzigon Kivio Dārilaros se zȳhon kessa sagon Vāedar Suvio Perzo”

“Yes.” she smiles. “Seems like you and every other man before us have forgotten we are Valyrians. It seems you forgot our mother tongue, father.”

“Rhaenyra what-”

“Tell me Daemon’s title in valyrian. Do as I ask, your grace.”

“Dārilaros Daemon Targārien hen Lentor Targārien.”

“Yes. Now tell me my own title, father.”

“Rhaenyra this is ridiculous now-”

“Dārilaros Rhaenyra Targārien hen Lentor Targārien. Dārilaros hen Zaldrīzesdōron.” Rhaenyra smiles at her father. “Tell me father, can you tell me what similarities both have aside from the name of our house?”

Her father is quiet for some time as he thinks.

Seconds pass by.

Slowly, she can see it dawn on his face.

Rhaenyra wants to laugh.

So she does.

“Years upon years spent on this model and yet you could not even grasp Valyrian?”

“No. No.. it’s… no. It has to be…”

“Darilaros, father. It has no gender. It is for both Prince and Princess. You have killed my mother for nothing. You and the Old King damned our House for nothing.”

She laughs. She laughs and laughs until she’s in tears.

Her father’s face is pale and white. She sees him stumble back. She should reach out and help him.

She does not.

She does not care.

She marches out of the room, only pausing to tell the Kingsguard to head inside.

She is smiling. Tears streamed down her face. She thinks of her mother. Her poor mother, who went through loss after loss. Whose shine dwindled as days passed. Who could not give her only living child the time of day because she was always confined to the bed.

She doesn’t realize she’s in her room until she hears Daemon’s voice.

“Rhaenyra?”

There are others in the room. Her children. The Velaryons.

She only sees Daemon.

He sees her face and is up on his feet in an instant. She was always everything to him. Even now. She knew that even now with all their children she was still everything to him.

“Baelon.” She hears him say, as he wraps his arms around her.

Her son is up on his feet in an instant and ushers everyone out. She hears Daemion call for her. She knows Laena is concerned as well.

She can’t bring herself to look at them. She can only wrap her arms around Daemon tightly as she cries for her mother.

Chapter 21: XXI

Chapter Text

Visenya Targaryen

Something was wrong with her mother. For years, there was an unspoken tradition for the Essosi Targaryen family. They would always break their fast together. On some occasions, they wouldn’t all be together, but whoever was together would always be breaking their fast together.

This morning, it was just the children.

Their mother’s servant came in to inform them that the Princess was feeling unwell and would be unable to join. Her father was looking after her mother and would be unable to join them. She looked at Baelon, who stared at the maid in concern before nodding at her.

Baelon tried to make sure that they all ate and then ushered them towards the pit where most of their dragons were kept. Except for hers, of course. Cannibal wasn’t meant for enclosed spaces with other dragons. He would eat them.

“May I bring Princess Helaena with us?” Alyssa asked.

Baelon hesitated for a bit before nodding.

Visenya lightly frowned at how her sister was so excited to bring the Princess with them. Her sweet sister was so taken with the Princess and would always accompany her.

“She is lonely! She needs friends too!”

They could never deny Alyssa anything. So they waited by the gates for Alyssa and Princess Helaena.

When she sees them, she starts to smile until she sees a third person join.

“Prince Aemond, I did not know you would be joining us as well.” Baelon greets with a polite smile.

“My sister was invited. I felt like she should not go alone.”

Visenya nearly snarled at that. Was he insinuating that they would harm the Princess without his presence? And what would he be able to do against them? Four of them against one of him? Even Baelon could take him down.

Visenya was about to speak, but Baelon tapped her on her hand once.

Calm.

“Of course, I understand with sisters of my own that it is such a concern when they venture out on their own. Especially with dragons. I’ve only ever let Alyssa near Balerion and our parents’ mounts. Until she had her own dragon that is.” Baelon smiled, good natured and gentle. “But being near dragons just feels right to us, right? With the blood of pure Valyria and dragonriders. We belong with dragons in the sky.”

She sees Prince Aemond clench his fist at that and smiles.

“Let’s go.” Baelon orders, looking at them.

Instantly, Aemon and Daemion climb a carriage together. Alyssa makes her way towards the carriage where Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena would be sitting.

“Go with our sister. And behave. No violence. Mother is ill and father would not leave her side. I do not want them to worry for us.”

She didn’t like that but she nodded. It is better for her to be with Alyssa in case of some accident happening.

Throughout the journey to the pit, Alyssa talked excitedly about insects with Princess Helaena. Visenya feels herself smile as she sees her sister and the Princess interact. She feels the Prince’s wary looks thrown at her, but she doesn't care.

“You have been to so many places.” The Prince remarked.

Alyssa and Visenya exchange a confused look.

“Of course. Why should we be trapped in one place?” Visenya said.

“Your… mother doesn’t disapprove?”

That confused her even more.

“Why would she disapprove? Before she married, mother traveled to almost every city in the Free Cities. She had to wait after Baelon and my birth to travel again, but she was seeing everything once she could. She never stopped us from wanting to see whatever we wanted and go wherever we wanted. Of course, there were restrictions, but beyond that… we were free.”

Helaena still had a smile on her face but it was the Prince whose face darkened at her words.

“Must be nice. To be free of duties.” He sneered.

Alyssa frowned at his word.

“We have duties.” Visenya snapped. “Our duties don't mean we have to be shackled to a place.”

The carriage stopped and Visenya stormed out of it. That… man was impossible! Time and time again all he did was try to insult them. Well, if he didn’t like them why even come along. He could have just asked his sister to stay behind?

Pretending as if Visenya and her siblings didn’t have any duties? What duties does he, the second son, even have except for sulk around these walls? While she and her siblings have to tend to whatever their parents ask them to? Baelon to head to meetings with his mother. Visenya to head off to wherever her sword was needed. Aemon and Alyssa helping Nymeria with contracts. Even Daemion would soon start helping them. Her trips for pleasure have been dwindling over the years as they take up more and more of their parents’ duties.

While the rest of her siblings headed inside the pit, she walked towards the edge of the small cliff.

“My love.” She crooned, opening her arms.

It only takes a few seconds for her dragon to appear. Massive, black scales with a green tint to it and green eyes.

Visenya smiles when she sees Cannibal descend.

“Have you missed me, beloved?” She murmured. “I missed you.”

Cannibal snorts and she giggles.

She gently pets his head and murmurs soft words to him.

She doesn’t think she loves anything in the world as much as she loves her dragon. Her dragon first then Daemion and Rhaena. Perhaps that’s why Daemion and Rhaena are the only ones who can approach Cannibal. At least Cannibal never tried to attack Meraxes and Grey Ghost. He once tried to attack Balerion. That was the only time Baelon had ever been mad at her.

She winces at that memory.

“You ride Cannibal?”

She turns at the voice. Prince Aemond stood a few feet behind her, staring at her dragon in awe.

She co*cks an eyebrow and Cannibal growls at him.

It doesn’t seem to scare him. He keeps on staring at Cannibal.

“Calm, my sweet boy. You cannot eat him. Mother would be very displeased.” Not her father. He would laugh.

To the Prince she says, “If I were you, I would not get any closer. My sweetcakes does not like strangers. He barely tolerates my siblings and parents.” She does not mention Rhaena. She doesn’t say how Rhaena was the only one to ever fly on Cannibal aside from her.

“Sweetcakes?” He choked out.

Visenya giggled at his shocked look. At least, that was a look she could understand. Her siblings got used to her calling her ‘monstrous beast’ by cute names.

“Isn’t he a darling? What else can I call him?” She blinks innocently.

He fumbles and stutters.

Visenya laughs. Like this, the Prince almost seems tolerable.

“When did you claim him?”

“I think a few moons after my seventh name day? My father took me to dragonstone.” She smiles at the memory.

“Must be nice. To claim one so easily.” And there he goes. Once again bitter and angry at her and her siblings as if she had any hand in his misfortune.

“Do you always act like a victim in front of everyone or is it just my siblings and I?” Visenya was tired.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your angst filled sobs won’t get to me. Or my siblings. We did nothing to you to earn your ire. Go and show it to those who did you wrong.”

She had no time for his dramaticness. She was here to ride her dragon and take her mind off her mother. Her mother’s tear filled face still haunts her. Fourteen years and not once has she seen her mother’s eyes so dead and her face so pale. Her father had stayed away the whole morning. She didn’t know if her mother was okay. And it’s all the King’s fault.

She wishes they never came to this awful place.

“You think it is not your fault I am in this situation?”

Visenya sighs. “And how is it my fault? Did I create you? Did I whisper about you? Did I take something from you? Believe it or not, we do not give a damn about you. It is you and yours obsessed with us. Now leave me be before I order my dragon to eat you. My mother will be displeased, but she will forgive me.”

He laughs, a harsh cold laughter. “Of course. Here you are resorting to violence. As expected from the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.”

Visenya finally looks at him and smirks. “If you think that is an insult then you are wrong. My father is the greatest warrior in all of the Seven kingdoms. And the greatest dragon rider. To be his daughter is the highest honor for me. You cannot say the same.”

“My father is your King.”

“Your father is no King of mine. The only one I bow to is my mother. A true Targaryen. I would rather let Cannibal eat me before I kneel in front of your father.”

Aemond glares at her and she smiles back. Perhaps she was goading him a bit. She wanted to see what he would do. She tired of him constantly eyeing them like his mother did. She was not like Baelon. She didn’t like a war with words. She preferred the use of weapons. She thinks that this Prince prefers it too.

“Do you make it your business to attack anyone you talk to?” he asks.

“I make it my business to defend me and mine when someone attacks us first. It was you who dealt the first blow when you implied we would hurt your sister.”

“Would you not?”

“There’s no gain in it. She’s a harmless girl. There’s no benefit in removing her. It would be better to remove you or the monster you call your brother.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“What? Call him a monster? He is one. We have all heard the tales of the girls that flee from his chamber. Of the fighting rings he visits. Do not pretend he isn’t one. Once your grandsire and mother accused my father of being a monster. I wonder if they have the courage to accept that your brother is the monster they said that my father was.”

She turned away from him and climbed up Cannibal. Talking with this boy was a waste of her time. She already sees her siblings take flight and she wants to join them.

“If you can’t accept and see the ones who are the real ones responsible for your misfortune are the very people you call your own then don’t blame us. We feel nothing for you. We do not hate you. We do not care for you. The most we feel is pity because you are pathetic.”

She sees the rage in his face when she says that and shrugs.

“Fly, my darling.”

Cannibal shoots up to join her siblings in the air.

Daemon Targaryen

Rhaenyra lay in their bed.. Finally asleep after hours of staring out the window.

It took him ages to coax out what happened from her. She hasn’t been like this in years. Not since her early days of leaving King’s Landing and when she would blow up every time they’d hear news from King’s Landing.

“He killed my mother for nothing, Daemon.” She said,

When she explained slowly, he held her and said nothing. Even as he seethed and a deadly rage came over him. He wanted to rush to his brother and scream at him. He wanted to bring his grandfather back and ask him if it was worth it.

But his wife needed him right now so he stayed beside her and held her.

“I want my mother.” She whispered.

He held her tight. “I’m here. I need you to be here. With me. Till death and after.”

She held onto him as if she was once again a fifteen year old child who lost her home and had nothing.

He couldn’t let her go. He didn’t think he would survive if he did.

He held her and whispered to her the whole night.

And in the morning until she drifted off to sleep.

Only then did he get up and have the servant inform their children to have breakfast without them. He’d leave it to Baelon to take care of his siblings. Given the choice between anyone and Rhaenyra, he would pick her.

He asked to not be disturbed and the guards nodded. He expected a silent morning. He looked out the window to see dragons taking flight.

He sat beside the window watching Rhaenyra sleep as he read a book.

Until there was a knock on the door.

He frowned.

He took a look at Rhaenyra and stepped outside of their bedroom. He expected it to be one of their children with an urgent message or something. It was the King and two Kingsguard. Not Ser Harrold but two he did not know.

Instantly, Daemon is once again mad.

This man took and took from them. From him and his wife. It took years for Rhaenyra to be who she is today and he once again so easily pushed her to be the girl she once was.

“Your Grace.” He bites out.

“Daemon.” He rasped. “Where is Rhaenyra? I must speak to her.”

“My wife is sleeping. She needs to rest. I must ask you to leave and let her rest. She got little of it last night.”

His brother winced. Daemon didn’t care.

“Daemon-”

“You’ve done enough. All these years you haven’t cared for her. Don’t pretend to do so now. Now leave. You may be my brother but she is my wife. Once she recovers we leave.”

His brother pales. “Leave? What… this is your home. Where will you go?”

“This is no home to us. Hasn’t been for years. She is my home. I am hers. Wherever she goes I will follow. You’re ridiculous if you think we will stay here after last night. Now leave.”

The Kingsguard scowl at him at his tone. He doesn’t care. He’d gut them if needed and throw his brother out himself. No one was coming here and getting to Rhaenyra today. She would sleep and once she woke, they would plan. They shouldn’t have come here. Screw the Velaryons and this horrid continent. They should have stayed in Volantis. Essos was theirs. This nation did not compare.

“She is my daughter. She is the crown Princess, my heir, no she will stay-”

“She has no f*cking interest in that ugly chair or your f*cking crown. You can take it and put it on the head of the son you so craved. That whor* you call your wife delivered him to you. Have him. I will not sacrifice my children or my wife for it.”

The Kingsguard glared at him, “That is the Queen and King-”

“Shut up before I cut out your tongue. This is a conversation between two Targaryens. I’ll feed you to Caraxes if you interrupt again.”

The King's Guards drew their swords. Before Daemon could draw his sword out, he heard the door behind him open.

Rhaenyra came out, pale and sick but standing tall and looking at her father coldly.

“Your grace, I must ask you to leave. I am sick. I cannot entertain you today.” Then she turns to look at the Kingsguard. “You even touch my husband and I will slit all of your throats myself. Do you understand me? I will cut you open and let you bleed slowly. Until there is little life left in you and then I’ll feed you to Syrax. Or I’ll throw your corpse to the vultures. It depends.”

The King's guards exchange looks and they look back at Rhaenyra to see if she was lying. His brother looks at her in horror. She coldly smirks at them and her father.

“Do not think I would not kill for my husband. You have little faith in me father. You think only Daemon is capable of cruelty. The lack of faith is honestly insulting.” She leans against the door. “Daemon told me you accused him of killing Rhea. It wasn’t him you know? It was me. I killed her. She was in the way so I had her removed. I can even tell you in detail how I had it done if you want to know.”

His brother stumbles back, Daemon grins at the King's guards. They exchange horrified looks as well. His brother looks at him as if remembering what he told him the night of the feast.

I am not the dragon that killed the sheep.

Rhaenyra was.

“I tire of your acts, father. Let us both stop pretending to be kind now. From now on I shall show you no mercy. Now get out of here.” Then she turns to look at Daemon and smiles at him. “Husband, it seems I missed breakfast with our children. Can you ask them and the Velaryons to join us for lunch? There’s a lot we must discuss.”

“Of course.” he nods at her as he walks over.

She kisses him on his lips and smiles at him.

“It’s time we end it.”

Chapter 22: XXII

Chapter Text

Laena Velaryon

When Laena sees her dearest friend again, she knows something has changed. Her eyes are bright again. She can see the fire in them once more. Last night, the fire was nearly dim. Her eyes were filled with tears and anguish last night as she reached for her Prince. But now, her eyes were once again sharp and bright. She looked like she does when she is in Volantis. She had hid her claws when she came to court. She told Laena that she had no intention to fight for something that she did not benefit from.

It seemed like things changed.

“Cousin, sit.” Rhaenyra gestures.

They were alone. The children were not here yet. She knows that Rhaenyra’s children went to the Pit, and her own children followed soon after. Daemon was not in the room as well.

She sits straight.

“I apologize for the way I behaved last night. It was unbecoming of me.” She says.

“I saw you bent over and vomiting on the streets of Pentos. Some of it even splashed onto my dress. I think a few tears is the last thing I would take offense to.”

Rhaenyra threw her head back and laughed.

Something inside of Laena soothed at hearing her laugh. She cannot claim to know Rhaenyra as well as her husband, but she can tell when Rhaenyra is lying. Her laugh is true.

“Are you truly well, cousin?” She asked, reaching out to hold Rhaenyra’s hand.

Rhaenyra gently patted Laena’s hand. “As well as one can be in this horrible city. Fear not, I am Rhaenyra Targaryen. I have survived worse.”

She has.

Laena nodded.

“There are things I wish to discuss with you. I assume your father would want to speak to me after the events of yesterday’s council.”

Laena slowly nodded. She heard her father talk of the Princess’ betrothal. An alliance with the Lannister. The more the Lords side with the Hightowers the harder it will be for her mother’s claim to stick.

Not that her mother has any at this point. There are far too many people over her.

“I have no wish to speak to him about such things. I can assume he may be in talks with the Hightower regarding a betrothal between Rhaena and Aegon?”

Laena winced. Her father spoke of it again last night. Insisted on it being done if there was no choice. She would rather burn to death before she allowed her daughter to marry that monster. She would insist on it until she could.

“He is… very insistent on it. He wants Velaryon blood on the throne.”

Rhaenyra snorts. She looks out the window and Laena almost shivers at the cold look in her eyes.

“Yes, it must be his dream. What matters to him if he sacrifices his granddaughter for it? No, we are expendable. The daughters. Me, you, Rhaena and even Helaena.” She murmurs.

Then she looked at Laena and her eyes were no longer cold. No, there was a fire burning in it. Targaryens were dragons and her cousin was always more dragon than human to her.

“We always pay for the ambition of men. My mother paid for my father’s. I paid for it. Now even Rhaena is being asked for it. No, why is it always us? Why not them? Is it not time that we get the boons of things we paid for with our misery?”

Laena’s eyes widened. Rhaenyra had never wanted the throne. At least, not once she left Westeros behind and made a life for her in Essos. She had far more wealth than the Velaryons. The politicians of Essos come to beg for her help. She had much influence in the East, and she cared little for the West. She called it a wasteland with little to offer her. She would laugh with Laena and say how the trade and money flowed from Essos, not Westeros.

“Do not worry. Your father won’t have a hand in Rhaena’s betrothal. I promise you that. Rhaena will be happy. Besides, we both know how Visenya would kill Aegon before she allowed him to marry Rhaena. Baelon would probably help her plan it so that she does not get caught.”

Laena laughs at that. That she can agree on and can envision.

But if Rhaenyra was saying all this then…

“Does this mean you intend to take the throne?” She asked.

Rhaenyra smiled.

The doors creaked open.

“Mother.”

Alyssa Targaryen

Alyssa was tired of King’s Landing and Westeros. She was tired of constantly smiling at others and pretending to like this place. She did not. It was a terribly stifling place that seemed to leach the joy from people. Ever since she and her family arrived they have had to put on a farce.

Be nice.

Smile.

Never show you are mad.

They were all paraded around in front of the Lords and Ladies of the realm during the week of their arrival. A week of celebration was thrown in their honor and she was tired of it. She liked dancing like her sister and mother did, but it was for fun. Not for being thrown from one arm to another of some idiotic boy.

At least the boys in Essos made better conversation. They had much better charming skills than the ones in King’s Landing. No, these were all fools. Or maybe it was just the sons of the Lords that made them fools.

She thought that the week of parading was over. Soon, her mother would tell them it was time to go home and they would leave. She would miss Helaena but she could write to her aunt. Maybe she could even visit her on Vermithor sometime in the future. Not alone, of course, but with Aemon her mother would be less likely to protest or forbid. Helaena was so sweet she detested the idea of leaving her here. She even considered sneaking her away when they left until Aemon firmly told her not to.

“And what do you want to tell her mother? Or her father? Another Princess ran away? Be reasonable, sister. She may be our aunt, but she is more a Hightower than a Targaryen.”

Alyssa did not think she was a Hightower. Alyssa thinks that Helaena is more Targaryen. She understood Alyssa. She understood Vermithor. Vermithor had no problem allowing Helaena to get close to him.

“Vermithor feels what you feel.”

“So I feel the urge to eat my friends in Essos every time they approach me?” She smiled sweetly.

Aemon shut up after that.

Helaena was good. She wasn’t like the Queen or Aegon. Aemond was… difficult. Not that she could tell her father any of this. She knew her father’s utter loathing for the other half of their family. If she were to ever tell her father any of this he would put her on Caraxes and fly her back.

Maybe that would not be so bad.

But she could not leave Helaena. Not now.

Not when she was being forced to marry a Lannister.

She frowns when she sees Helaena’s blank face. Alyssa cannot claim to know Helaena well enough to discern when she is truly happy or upset, but her aunt is usually open with her emotions. Except now when it looks as if she has shut her emotions down. She does not like that.

She glared at the Queen.

What kind of a mother was she to push her daughter into such a marriage? Tyland did not look as if he was any more delighted about this than Helaena was.

“Don’t frown, my sweet.” Her mother told her, caressing her hand softly with a smile.

“Apologies, mother. I just-”

“I know you worry. Fear not. Have faith.” Her mother said.

She was about to ask what her mother means when her mother looks to the floor and smiles widely. She follows her mother’s gaze to see Baelon dancing with Rhaena. It was not unusual. Her brother grew up with Rhaena and Visenya. He was close friends with Rhaena. Nothing like what Visenya and Rhaena shared, but enough to know that Rhaena was someone whom Baelon trusted . And he trusted very few.

“Don’t they look delightful?” Her mother commented loudly.

She looks at Aemon, confused. Her brother simply shrugs.

Her father smiles and agrees with her. “Blood of Valyria. They suit each other.”

She exchanges alarming looks with her brother.

Her parents never talked of betrothals with them. She knew they wanted their children to have love like they did. So why would they…

Especially with Baelon?

She takes a look at her sister who seemed to smile at the scene. She looked quite pleased.

She does not understand.

“Mother-”

“My sweet girl, why don’t you go and dance? There are the Tyrell boys. Did you not dance with them the other day?”

She did, but why would her mother tell her to do so now?

“Yes, mother.” She answered.

“Wonderful. Aemon, take your sister. You might as well dance. There are so many lovely ladies in court today.”

“Yes, mother.” Aemon replies.

She takes her brother’s hand and walks with him to the middle of the room where everyone is dancing. Her brother and Rhaena somehow being quite the center of everything. The to-be bride and her fiancé are sitting high on the table while Baelon and Rhaena seem to be the center of attention. She really does not understand what game they are playing. Or why they’re playing this game.

In all of this, Alyssa does not notice the way that Otto Hightower looked at them.

Chapter 23: XXIII

Chapter Text

Aemond Targaryen

There was something extremely soothing for Aemond when he could feel the sword in his hand and hear the noise of swords and weapons clanging against each other in the air. The training grounds, with a sword in his hand, is truly the place where Aemond belonged. He craved this violence. The blood. The battle. He was a Targaryen and he belonged on the battlefield. But his mother was adamant to not allow him anywhere near the battlefield. No matter how Aemond wished to jump into battles with the Velaryons, his mother would hear nothing of it.

I need you with me. I have no one but you, Aemond.

He knew she spoke the truth. Aegon was always drowning in his cups, Helaena shied away from their mother’s touch and Daeron was too far away. His father was no proper husband, and his grandfather only cared for his own ambitions. His mother was alone and he could not abandon her.

As such, the training grounds were the only place he could retreat to. It was his sanctuary like the Sept was his mother’s.

But today he was not alone in his sanctuary with other guards.

His father rarely ever came to see him train. And after a certain while Aegon, too, stopped joining him. It was always him. But today he had an audience and his brother was present with a scowl on his face. His father was here but he was not here to watch him.

No, Aemond was graced with another training partner today.

“Uncle.” Baelon greets, a wide smile painted on his lips. “What a delight to see you here!”

Aemond clutched his sword tightly.

By Baelon’s side stood Visenya, dressed in fighting leathers and hair braided and a sword on her side. She smiled at Aemond, but unlike Baelon’s attempt at a pleasant smile, Visenya’s was all teeth and sharp. She looked at Aemond as if he was her prey. As if she was no different than her dragon and would tear him to pieces.

Baelon smiled at him as if he was truly delighted to see him. But Aemond had heard enough of his nephew’s poisoned tongue to be aware of how much Baelon disliked them.

“Nephew, niece. Here to train?” He asked.

A silly question to ask when both of them were armed and dressed for it. A silly question indeed for his father would never come to see Aemond or Aegon fight. No matter how well Aemond fought and how much the Knights of the Keep praised him. No, his father was here to see them. The two Targaryens who he loved more than his own children. All because they had the blood of Rhaenyra and Daemon. The only people in the world his father cared for.

“If you would honor us then we would be delighted.” Visenya said. “We have heard so much about your and Prince Aegon’s prowess in battle that it would be an honor to fight against you here.”

Baelon nodded on her side, a smile ever present on his face. Aemond rarely ever saw him not smile at them. But Aemond knew it wasn’t due to kindness.

His nephew mocked him with that smile.

Aemond frowns at them while Aegon yawns. He sees Daemon Targaryen make his way towards where his father sat. Dark Sister was ever present on his side. Aemond clenched his hand around his sword.

Dark Sister. The sword of Visenya Targaryen, Queen of Aegon and rider of Vhagar. It was a King’s right to wield Blackfyre but it was the second son’s right to wield Dark Sister. If things were different, it would be Aemond who’d inherit Dark Sister after the death of his uncle while Aegon inherited Blackfyre.

But things weren’t different. And with the way things were, neither of them would be able to wield either of the swords. It would be Rhaenyra inheriting the Blackfyre and after her it would be Baelon. As for Dark Sister…

Aemond eyes his niece.

“A lady shouldn’t be handling a sword.” One of the Kingsguard speaks up.

Gyles Belgrave. Usually someone who had more awareness when he spoke seemed to lack his usual awareness.

Immediately Visenya’s gaze snaps on to him. A saccharine smile on her face as she looks at the Knight. Baelon’s face had none of his kind smile anymore.

“Is that so?” Visenya crooned. “Pray tell what should a lady be handling? I did not know that mere Knights now had the right to tell what a Princess should or should not be doing?”

The training ground grows quiet. Everyone stares at their group now, watching as the Princess sweetly smiles at the Knight while coldly speaks to him as well.

“I… did not mean it like that-”

“I do not care.” Visenya interrupted him, no longer smiling now. “You do not tell me what I can or cannot do.”

“Perhaps the ladies of Westeros do not handle blades, but my sister is no mere lady. She is a Princess of the House of Dragon. Do you think Queen Visenya and Rhaenys were knitting and sewing while Aegon was conquering Westeros?”

Aemond sees the other guards fidget at the reminder that Targaryen women are known to take up arms. The customs of Westeros do not apply to them. Aemond knows that.

Yet it is insulting to hear his nephew speak to his guards in such a manner when he is present.

“Ser Belgrave, apologize to the Princess.” Aemond interjects.

Belgrave looks put out but he mumbles out an apology.

Visenya looks satisfied.

“Perhaps the Princess would give us a demonstration of her abilities?” Aemond says, gesturing towards the ground.

Visenya perks up and starts to walk forward, but Baelon’s hand immediately shot out to grab her.

“Perhaps the elders can fight first? As I am the eldest of my mother, is it not better for me to step up first? Against Prince Aegon perhaps?”

Aemond looks at his brother who swayed on his feet. That fool could not even raise his sword against a simple guard. How would he fight the son of the Rogue Prince? His grandfather wasn’t here but he would hear of this. He would know that Aegon was defeated by Baelon, and by sundown every single person in this Keep would know that his brother was nothing but a drunkard fool who couldn’t even defeat a boy younger than him by four years. And then his grandfather would no doubt beat up his brother. His mother would be unable to help him and anxiously rip her fingers to shreds.

No, it couldn’t be Aegon.

It had to be him.

“If I may?” Aemond interrupted. “I would like to see your abilities myself. If you think you can keep up, nephew.”

Baelon’s eyes gleamed and even Visenya stopped pouting. A smirk painted on her face as she gleefully watched her brother slowly walk towards Aemond. Aemond lifted his sword into a ready position. The sword was a training sword. Steel, but blunted in the edge. Not enough to kill but enough to harm someone. Aemond studies Baelon casually walking inside the ring, holding his sword lightly.

“First blood?” He asked.

Aemond blinks.

“Do we end it when we draw blood or until one of us yields, uncle?” He asked.

Aemond hesitates.

Baelon takes his silence as an answer because only a second later he flung himself forward towards Aemond, his sword raised.

Steel against steel, the metals clashing. The swords clashed again and again, the noise of their battle echoing around the grounds and everyone paused to see two Princes fighting against each other. Baelon had swift feet enabling him to duck and swerve out of the way easily whenever Aemond tried to attack him.

At first, Aemond thought he had the advantage. Baelon was good at ducking and avoiding his attacks, but he was on the defense. It was Aemond who was the one attacking. Baelon was too busy defending himself. Aemond thought he could overpower him soon. He said first blood so he had all the intention to cut him somewhere. Make him bleed. Prove to everyone that he was a Targaryen who could make the true Targaryen bleed.

And then it changed.

Aemond looked at Baelon’s eyes and felt as if something changed.

Baelon sprang forward once more, but this time he was not the one defending.

He parried against Aemond’s blows so easily and retaliated faster and harder. Aemond stepped back, raising his sword to block off every hit. On the side, he hears Visenya shout Baelon’s name.

Baelon ducks as Aemond swings his sword towards his head and laughs. His voice grated Aemond’s ears and he clenched his teeth. He was enjoying this. He enjoyed this enough to laugh at Aemond. Because he found this too easy.

Baelon leaped towards him, sword high in his hand and Aemond could barely duck out of the way in time before it hit his face. Baelon’s sword swept by, slashing and sweeping, high and low as he aimed for every weak point he could find while Aemond dodged and blocked, panting heavily as the attacks grew faster.

As Aemond steps back again, he stumbles losing his balance for a moment. Taking that opportunity, Baelon kicks him in his abdomen, causing him to fall to his knees. But Aemond still slashes out his sword towards Baelon’s legs. Baelon jumps up before slamming his sword down against Aemond’s hand.

Aemond sword falls from his hand.

Aemond bites his tongue to stop himself from screaming out in pain as he feels the steel cut his hand.

He feels the blood before he sees it. He sees it drip down to the training ground.

“First blood.” Baelon says. “But if we are talking about fighting until one of us yields, you do not have a weapon either. So I suppose this fills in both of the conditions?”

Aemond glares up hatefully at him while Baelon’s smile widens. His eyes gleaming with his win. He proved to everyone how he was better than Aegon and Aemond. Because defeating Aemond was equivalent to defeating Aegon.

He held out his hand towards Aemond. Aemond had half a mind to snarl at him and slap it away. But his father was here. If he acted this disgracefully he would hear more from his grandfather than what he was already expecting.

Aemond took his hand and slowly stood up. He could hear his father’s delighted crowing. His uncle said nothing and simply listened even though his father seemed to not even look at his own brother.

As Baelon starts to step away he smiles at Aemond once more.

“You should be thankful it was me who beat you, Uncle.” He whispered.

Aemond scowled at him.

“I am kind enough to allow you to deal more blows. If this was my sister she would have disarmed you in a few hits and made you bleed more. Visenya is as cruel as our father when it comes to her opponents. She does not stop at first blood. She stops when they can no longer stand and use their hands.”

Then he calmly walked towards his sister. The one he insinuated was cruel and a monster like the Rogue Prince.

He watched as Visenya leaned towards her brother and pulled him into her arms, laughing at his victory. He watched them celebrate their win against Aemond before he turned back to walk towards the Keep.

By now, his grandfather would find out. Or he would find out soon.

He should get this over with.

Sophie

Sophie winced as she heard the cracking sound. She knew it was the Lord Hand slapping Prince Aemond. She had heard from the others what happened in the training ground. How Prince Baelon had not only disarmed the Prince but also brought him down to his knees and made him bleed. She knew that the Lord Hand would not be pleased at this turn. The ones in Court already favor the Princess and her dragon riding brood. She has trailed after the Queen for years and has ideas on what the Lord Hand plans. She has heard him speak of it often to his daughter.

But Sophie was a servant. And servants are not meant to speak. They serve and they die with their master's secrets.

Just like how she kept silent that the Lord Hand raised his hands against the Princes of this realm.

She winced as she heard him scream at the Prince. As he said how the Prince brought shame to them by being beaten.

Prince Aemond was the only one of the Queen’s children who was worthy of something. And now even he was facing this cruelty. The Queen could only watch as her father berated her son. Sophie sees the Queen’s hand. It was bleeding again. She would need to clean it again.

Finally the screams stop and the Prince is thrown out. The Prince bows and walks out, head held high.

Sophie sees the Queen almost reach out for her son before the Lord Hand calls her.

“This needs to end. Her children are ruining everything.”

“Father-”

“If we don’t remove them then they will pose a threat!”

“Remove them? You can’t mean… father no!”

“Do you want to lose your children? It is either Rhaenyra’s children or yours. Look at what that boy did to yours today! He cut him! Do you think when the time comes he will hesitate to cut off his head? It was only a cut on his hand this time. Next time it will be worse!”

“Father, please think this through! We have the Lannisters. The Velaryons are in talks too! With Rhaena on our side we will have Vhagar, Meleys and Seasmoke.”

“Have you not seen Rhaenyra’s son with Rhaena? Are you blind as to not see how they plan to marry him with her? Who do you think Corlys Velaryon would pick? Your drunkard fool of a son or the son of Rhaenyra? We need to have him removed.”

“I refuse to take part in the murder of innocents!” The Queen screamed out.

“Will you still call them innocent when they murder your children?”

The Queen hesitates. Her glare wavering.

“You made your choice when you wore green. This is war. People die. Will it be your own or others?”

Sophie stays quiet the entire time. She says nothing as the Lord Hand leaves without a glance towards her. She only moves forward when the Queen slumps down on a chair.

She says nothing as she hears the Queen whimper.

It is not her place.

She can only stay quiet and carry the secrets to her grave.

Even if the secrets can save innocent lives from being spared.

Chapter 24: XXIV

Chapter Text

Rhaena Velaryon

“They’re all staring.” She murmured.

“Let them. Pretty things should be admired.”

“Am I a thing now?”

“At least you are a beautiful thing, dear cousin. A much better alternative than being an ugly one.”

Rhaena rolled her eyes while Baelon grinned at her. They strolled along the Keep. Along the gardens and other parts. Always in sight of others as it would not be proper for a lady to be near a man (as if) without a proper chaperone. If only they knew the number of times she pummeled him to the dirt with Visenya even after she was deemed to be a ‘lady’.

“How long must we do this?” She asks.

Baelon shrugs, “as long as it is expected. As long as it is ordered.”

By his mother. They were both parading around here holding hands and smiling under the orders of his mother. To what ends she did not know. No one knew what Rhaenyra was thinking. Not even her husband. Except Nymeria. But Nymeria was not here and Rhaenyra was plotting all alone. And she had ordered the children to do what she asked.

First, for Baelon and Rhaena to court each other.

Second, to humiliate the Greens.

She heard of the incident at the training grounds. Visenya crowed with such a vindictive satisfaction about it afterwards that it even made Rhaena smile. She thanked the gods that it was not Visenya who fought Aemond. Thanked that Baelon had the wits to pull his sister away from the Green Prince. Visenya would make it worse. Baelon was gentler.

That is all she knew. She knew there should be more to this, but she was kept unaware.

Do what she asks of you. Her mother whispered.

She knew her mother loved Rhaenyra. She also knew her mother feared Rhaenyra. She supposes it’s not so different. To love them and fear them. She respected Rhaenyra. She loved her. She was a second mother to her. She spent more time at Rhaenyra’s manors than she did at Driftmark.

Besides, Rhaenyra would never do anything to harm her children. Especially Baelon who was her very heart. She could go along with whatever Rhaenyra asked of her if she had Baelon and Visenya with her.

And if things kept going like this and she was asked to marry him…

She looked at him. Baelon kept on talking about Essos, things she already knew for she was with him in those days. She grew up by his side. He was the closest to her after Visenya. The three of them are so close in age, always side by side, always laughing. He was good. He was kind. He was smart.

He would be a good King. A better King than Viserys. Someone who maybe did not care for others, but could do well for others. A king better than Jaehaerys. Someone worthy of the throne.

If she had to marry a Targaryen Prince for her grandfather’s vanity, it would not be so bad if it was Baelon. He was her friend. He cared for her. He was not a monster like Aegon.

“What are you thinking?” He asked.

“About you.” she admitted.

A sly smile grew on his lips. “Daydreaming about me already? My, my cousin I am flattered!”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “More like dreading the headaches you will bring me should we marry.”

“Lies! I know you admire my handsome face.”

“What handsome face? I see none.”

He gasps and stumbles back as if her words were physical blows. Rhaena giggles at his theatrics. He fails to hide his pleased smile at making her giggle. Rhaena knew he was distracting her from worries. And from questions. Nymeria knew Rhaenyra but in her absence it was usually Baelon who helped his mother. He might know things no one else did. He might have an idea on what his mother is trying to achieve.

If she is trying to achieve the throne.

Well… better Rhaenyra and Baelon than Aegon the monster.

“Will you not tell me what worries you? I may not be Visenya, but I am a good listener.”

She knew that to be true. He always listened before he spoke.

“Just… thinking of my grandfather.”

That was the most she could say with these prying ears.

She could see Baelon understood what she meant.

“You need not worry about him. I swear that you will never have to marry someone you do not want to.” He switched to Valyrian.

She glances around. Most are servants peeking at them. None who would understand Valyrian. It was a language notoriously difficult even for the Maesters. It seemed to be a language that came easily to them. Valyrians.

“What kindness, cousin. You cannot promise me such things.” She said softly knowing it was the truth.

Should her grandfather force her mother, Rhaena would be forced to wed Aegon. Or whatever Lord he wanted to sell her to for his profit. Like her mother was once meant for the drunken fool of a son of an old Sealord of Braavos. Until Rhaenyra freed her.

Maybe that was the fate of the Velaryon women. Doomed betrothals that were broken by the hands of a Targaryen. Hands that were willing to bloody themselves for someone they called their own.

“I can. If needed I will marry you myself. I’ll bind myself to you in front of the fourteen flames.”

“Baelon-”

“You are family. Remember that. I am no Visenya, but I am still your friend. I will always protect you.”

“A farce marriage then?”

A shrug. “Marriage is a political alliance. Not everyone is blessed like my mother and father.”

Knew that to be true. Rhaenyra and Daemon were a rarity. A fairytale made possible by the fact that they both chose to run away and leave behind the bonds that shackled them. She could only wish for that. If she could she would run away too. She would run to Essos. She would only take Grey Ghost and fly away. She would see Essos and beyond with Visenya and Baelon. She would spend her days with them.

She would marry Baelon if it meant freedom.

“Would you marry me if you wished? Your mother and father aren’t like mine. You have a choice.”

He hesitates momentarily. Sees him glance away from her as if he wanted to hide his thoughts from her.

He was never quite good at that. Hiding secrets from her. Or Visenya. But then Visenya was terrible at hiding secrets from them.

And she was terrible at hiding secrets from them.

He looks at her again.

“Know that I love you.”

Rhaena smiles.

“I suppose that will depend on your mother.”

His eyes flash, something unknown passing for a moment.

Rhaena frowns.

“Do not worry. Mother adores you.”

Rhaena hesitates but smiles.

Baelon doesn’t hide secrets from her. Can never hide it. So she knows something is wrong.

She should ask him.

Yet..

Yet.

She follows him and listens to his stories about his childhood, carefully not mentioning Rhaena in those stories.

Alicent Hightower

“I am pleased you could join me, Lady Laena.”

“I am honored by your invitation, your grace.” Laena smiled stiffly at her.

Alicent returned her smile and hoped it would appear to be warm and inviting. This was her only chance now. She could not lose this. She would appear inviting and warm to Laena Velaryon and slowly usher in the talks of their children’s marriage. A betrothal must be made. Rhaena was a perfect match. She was of Valyrian blood, granddaughter to a Targaryen Princess, daughter of the woman who rode the largest dragon and the heiress to a great fortune. Not only would she help bind the two families together, she would also bring in the much needed fortune for their side. She knew that war required money, not just soldiers. The Velaryons had that money along with the finest navy in Westeros. Money, navy and three dragons. With the Velaryons, Lannisters and the Reach on their side, Alicent could protect her children and install Aegon on the throne. As he should after his father’s death. It was what was right.

It was the sons who inherited their father’s legacy. Daughters do not. Daughters marry to bring unity and strength. Daughters marry to bring sons. Like Alicent did.

“It has been a while since you have visited Kings Landing. I hope everything is to your comfort.”

“Yes,” Laena said slowly, looking at Alicent curiously. “I thank your grace for your hospitality. It has been years but when family calls one must answer. And Princess Rhaenyra is family after all. She is still my mother’s niece and my cousin. It has been years since I have had the chance to meet her. As you know we weren’t quite close when we were children due to certain circ*mstances.”

Laena smiled dryly at her. Alicent picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. The cakes and biscuits lay untouched by either of them.

She knew Laena talked about their childhood. Her father had always pushed her towards the Princes. Always angling to make sure it was Alicent that was the closest to Rhaenyra instead of the other girls.

But that was not important anymore. It was the past. It cannot be changed. Laena and Rhaenyra may not have grown up together as friends but Laena called her family. That was where the issue lies. If she considers Rhaenyra family does that mean she does not consider Alicent’s children family? She came to Kings Landing at Rhaenyra’s request but would she come here if it was one of Alicent’s?

“We are happy to have you here with our family, Lady Laena.” Alicent says.

Laena merely smiles at her.

“I had long hoped for our children to meet more often. They are, as you said, family. My daughter tends to be shy. I hoped she would befriend Rhaena and with that it would help my Helaena to come out of her shell.”

“Pity. I am sure Rhaena would have loved to meet Helaena more often. Alas, her studies and duties keep her occupied.” Laena shook her head and frowned while looking down.

Laena was declared as the heir to the Driftwood throne. Laenor seemed to be content to drift around the world on his ships and his dragon while lying with men. It was no secret that no heir would come out of him. But Laena Velaryon, who married her cousin, has two children capable of taking the Driftwood throne. She has three dragons to back her own claim. And the claim of her daughter. As such, Rhaena was often kept at Driftmark to study. She even learned that the girl was already an apt sailor after sailing around with her Uncle many times.

Once she became Queen she would not be able to sail away as she once did. She would have duties to the Keep and to Aegon. Duty to bear heirs for him. She would not be able to go back to Driftmark.

But she would be gaining the title of a Queen. She would be mother to the future King. That is the highest of honor.

“Lady Laena, I have invited you here for a purpose.” Alicent began.

“Oh?” Laena co*cked her eyebrow. “What do you require of me, your grace?”

“Our children are… close in age. And Rhaena is at the cusp of womanhood. I was hoping to discuss the future of our children.”

“Future of our children?”

“Yes,” Alicent said, slowly smiling when she heard no refusal from Laena so far. “My son, Aegon, is nine and ten. A Prince would be a worthy match for the daughter of the Heir to the Driftwood throne. Rhaena will be a Princess and someday she might even be the Queen.”

It was the words of a traitor. She would be branded a traitor by her husband if he knew what she said but her husband was a weak man. He would not see the bloodshed that would happen due to his own actions. He would not live to see his sons and daughter murdered at the order of his daughter and brother. It would be Alicent who would have to weep over her children.

“Queen? Princess Rhaenyra is still the Princess of Dragonstone, is she not? Or has the King changed his mind?”

“No,” Alicent hesitates. “However, if we… align ourselves together for a common goal then… It has always been Lord Corlys’ wish to align our families together. This way, we can fulfill our wishes.”

“Our wishes? Or your wish, your grace?” Laena leaned back a bit, smiling amusedly. “You wish for me to sell my daughter so that my Father’s wish of placing his blood on the throne is fulfilled? Just like your own father’s?”

Alicent stiffens.

“My daughter is the Heir to a throne herself. Heir to the richest House in Westeros. It is not us who needs you, your grace. You need us. Let us speak plainly here. What do you want?”

Alicent sat up straight and stared at her. Laena’s gaze did not falter. She was not afraid of Alicent or worried. She, Alicent realised, did not care about her. She was here out of her own curiosity and to see what Alicent could tell her.

“Then let me tell you the truth. Princess Rhaenyra is unfit to rule the Kingdoms.”

“Is it because she is a woman? You think a co*ck makes one fit to rule?” Laena asked sharply.

Alicent swallows. Saying that Rhaenyra’s womanhood makes her unfit would be insulting to Laena. Laena, who was going to lead House Velaryon one day, was a woman. She would not take this slight lightly.

“Because she has not been in Westeros for years now. She has no knowledge of how to rule a Kingdom.”

“And Aegon does? We have all heard rumors, your grace.” Laena smirked.

Alicent winced. Her son’s actions were no secret. Despite her father’s efforts, it was known across the whole Kingdom and beyond of all of Aegon’s depravity. She had hoped with time he would learn to be dutiful like Aemond. To pick up the sword or insist he learn the duties of a crown prince. But every day her hopes dwindled more and more.

“He will learn.” Alicent says firmly. “He is the eldest son. He has his duties and he knows.”

“Does he? Fascinating way to show his dedication, but I suppose we all have our own ways, do we not?”

Alicent felt like splashing the glass of wine on her face. She looked at her with such amusem*nt while she talked about Alicent’s son, a Prince, in such a manner.

“Marriage will make him more dutiful, Lady Laena. It makes us all dutiful.” Alicent said stiffly.

“Or, it will direct his anger to one person. My daughter.” Laena scoffed. “You wish for me to throw my daughter in such a marriage? Why? On the possibility of her becoming the Queen?”

“It is no possibility!” Alicent hissed. “My son is the eldest son! It is his right! If we join hands together then it will benefit us!”

“At the cost of my daughter’s happiness. I do not know what kind of a mother you are or what kind of a father you had but neither my husband nor I will sell my daughter to a cruel life. I have heard stories of what your son does to maids. Of the fighting rings he visits. Fighting rings of children.” Laena looked disgusted. “I will not throw my daughter into such a life. If you wish for a Valyrian bride to solidify his claim, might I suggest looking closer? He still has a sister. Targaryen customs say Helaena should marry Aegon. Perhaps you should throw her at your son if you so believe marriage will straighten him up.”

Alicent flinched back.

Laena took a sip of her wine before she stood up.

“I must thank your grace for such an offer, but at such a time I will have to regretfully decline this proposal.”

“You will regret it, Lady Laena. My son is a Targaryen Prince.”

“Well,” Laena smirked at her. “There is no shortage of those around here nowadays. Perhaps my daughter will be married to a Targaryen prince. A worthy one who can hold a sword without swaying on his feet. One who could probably fly as well.”

Then she cutsied before walking away leaving Alicent behind. Alicent only waited for her to be out of her room before flinging her glass.

Her maid, Sophie, rushes forward to clean the shards while Alicent stares at the shattered pieces.

She tried. She tried.

“Sophie.”

“Yes, your grace?”

“Call for my father. Tell him this is of utmost importance.”

Laena Velaryon

“She must be offended.”

“Well, I did hear some noise once I left her chamber. I do not think those wine glasses survived.”

“What a pity.”

Laena smirked at Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra laughed when she recounted what happened. Daemon echoed her smirk and only scoffed at the absurd proposal.

“She thinks her son is worthy of a dragon riding Valyrian woman?” He says.

“In her defense, she is not aware of the dragon riding bit.” Laena smiled.

“Technicalities.” Daemon rolled his eyes, leaning back.

Rhaenyra took his hand and smiled at him. “Well, Alicent is a fool. She would have had better luck approaching Corlys.”

“And he would be a fool to agree.” Daemon replied.

“I think we can all agree that my father is a fool. Mother was highly displeased when I wrote to her of what my father was thinking. She says she is flying to Kings Landing to have a word with him.”

They all smirk at the implication. Her mother would certainly have a word with her father.

“Corlys should know better than to anger a Targaryen woman.”

“Just like you, my love?” Rhaenyra teased him. “You learned the hard way if I remember.”

Laena laughed while Daemon rolled his eyes at her but smiled at his wife.

Laena then looked at her cousin, worried. She followed what Rhaenyra did. Rhaenyra told her to make sure that if she were approached with such an offer, she should deny it brutally. Insult Aegon if possible. Laena was worried about it.

Alicent is a fool. She cannot do anything to you.

It is not me I am worried about. I am worried for Baelon.

Rhaenyra only smiled at her and told her to not worry.

“What next?” She asks.

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a look. At Daemon’s slight nod, Rhaenyra leans forward and takes Laena’s hand.

“Now we will do what was planned.” She says. "Lord Hand was quite determined to see my children betrothed. We must give him what he wants."

Laena glanced at Daemon before looking at Rhaenyra again. “Then I must inform my father.”

“Go on. Inform him that you intend to betroth Rhaena to Baelon.”

Chapter 25: XXV

Chapter Text

The beginning of the end started on a Summer night. The servants tittered with gossips of the ongoings of the Keep. Just a few days before, Lady Laena Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra announced the betrothal of Prince Baelon to Lady Rhaena Velaryon. The servants serving the food at the dinner talked about the bashful smiles the two shared as well as the delightful smiles on the faces of others.

Well, not everyone. They added slyly.

The Queen was certainly not pleased. The servants knew that Lady Laena was invited to the Queen’s chamber. Perhaps for a betrothal discussion which clearly bore no fruits seeing that it was not the Queen’s prince that the Velaryons chose.

Good for her. They all sniffed. He is a cruel man .

No servants in the Keep were unaware of Prince Aegon’s inclinations. The girls that were sent to serve him often took to making themselves look haggard and dull in hopes that it would keep his cruel hands and eyes from them. When that didn’t help, the older servants took over the duty. Not that they could do it most of the time but once in a while they would lend their hand to the new girls who were still children and innocent.

Besides, Prince Baelon was far more handsome . They giggled. He can use a sword and he rides a dragon. A dragon riding warrior Prince is a better choice than the drunkard fool they had .

His kindness was certainly known. Many times, there would be servant girls who would stare out the window and sigh dreamily when they saw the Prince train. The older ones would shoo the girls away lest they get caught but even then the stares of admiration would never fade.

This is what a Targaryen Prince should be like .

And they both made such a handsome couple. The Valyrian silver hair and purple eyes. Arm in arm walking around the Keep, Lady Rhaena’s melodious laugh echoing around the Keep as the Prince makes her laugh. The way his eyes never stray from hers. They were the ones the stories are written about. The valiant Prince and the beautiful lady who charmed him with a single smile.

And one day, they’d be the King and Queen.

Not that the last part mattered. It never did. They were servants. They did not matter. To the servant it did not matter who sat on the Iron Throne. As long as they got their silvers, a meal twice a day and a warm bed with a roof over their head, it did not matter who ruled. It never will matter to the peasants because nobility were all the same. They only cared about their own. Even the ones who claimed to be closer to Gods by touching the sky.

But maybe, maybe , they would be better.

The servants were busy catering to the guests that arrived , again , to the betrothal dinner of the two.

At this point they might as well all stay in King’s Landing. Less than two moons and already three banquets.

At least, this one is paid for by the Princess’ own gold. Not the gold of the people .

For it was known to all that the Princess refused to touch the treasury and used her own gold to fund a lavish celebration to declare the betrothal of her eldest child. The throne room was decorated with Targaryen black and red, gold and silver chalices and plates laid out on the tables with endless food on the table. The musicians playing their songs all night as everyone laughed and danced and in the middle of it all was the Prince and the Lady.

And sometimes, Princess Visenya, for she never strayed far from either of them. A delighted smile on her face, her eyes shining as she twirled with her sister-to-be.

The three of them never strayed away from each other. Always reaching for one or the other.

It is a warm summer night. Yet, the heat did not bother the others except for the Queen and her brood who sulked. The more rowdy and cheerful everyone grew, the more their faces darkened.

The servants giggled at the idea of seeing them brood for the next few days for the celebrations would be held for a week.

It was a warm summer night and people drank the cold wine. More and more until most of them were drunk. Until most of them had their senses dulled yet they refused to leave the Hall. The only one who left was Prince Daemion, the child yawning and protesting, taken by his maids to his chambers.

It was late when people started to retire, most of them stumbling and bowing to the royalty before leaving. Still a decent size of crowd in the hall but half were either asleep on their table or dancing. When the Prince offered to walk his intended back to her room when he saw her cover up her yawn. He kissed his mother and asked for her leave to take his fiancee back to her chambers. The Princess smiled at her son, her eyes softening in a way that they have only seen around her children, as she nodded. She kissed her daughter-to-be and let them leave, knowing her son will be back soon.

It was a Summer night and it was a celebration of a new start. Of finally joining two great Valyrian houses after a generation.

It was a blessing.

Then it was a curse.

The music was still playing. People were still dancing. Princess Visenya in the middle dancing with a Tyrell boy when the scream started.

Another servant, a girl of two and ten who only started working at the Keep and was kept away from the festivities tonight because she did not yet know how to serve the nobles and the servants cannot have this child offend them, burst into the throne room. Screaming and crying. Babbling nonsense that no one can understand.

Prince Daemon was the one who jumped first, rushing towards the girl and demanding to know what was wrong.

“Fire,” she sobbed, “I don- it was ho- I heard screams and then fire and I ran and the Pr-Prince I-”

Then it was Princess Rhaenyra who ran. Because of what the girl said.

For she said the Prince.

And all the Princes were here, except for her two. Her two Princes.

Everyone in the throne room, those that were left and could still stand on their feet without stumbling over, ran with the Prince and Princess. The two looked at each other, desperately, before they parted ways. The Prince heading towards his youngest. The Princess towards her eldest.

They see the guards first. They all do.

Two guards lying on the floor outside the chambers of the Velaryons. They do not know if they are dead. It does not matter. What matters is what happened to Prince Baelon and Lady Rhaena.

They feel the heat next. It was a warm summer night. They knew the heat.

But this was different.

The first thing they all see when they rush inside behind Princess Rhaenyra was two bodies. One Lady Rhaena, bleeding on the floor from an injury to her head.

And the other, a man. Or a boy.

An unrecognizable boy for his face and body were burned. Charred.

For a second it was all quiet.

And then a guttural, heart wrenching scream tore out from the Princess’ throat. A mixture of grief and rage. The roar of a wounded dragon. She ran forward, pushing aside those who tried to stop her as she reached for the other body.

Her son.

Prince Baelon’s body remained on the floor as his mother knelt beside him and wept and wept.

Lady Laena kneeled on the floor beside her, tears in her eyes as she took in her own daughter, alive but injured.

And the Princess Visenya, frozen stiff as she took in her mother and brother.

It was supposed to mark the start of something new and good.

Instead, the summer night marked the start of the end.

—

Aemond Targaryen

Today, he is dressed in black. Not the usual black that he wore to show his Targaryen colors. No, it was a funeral black even if the colors were the same. He supposes it was the intent with which one wore the colors that mattered. Targaryen black could so easily be funeral black.

Aemond never attended a funeral. None on his mother’s side of the family who died were close enough to warrant the presence of the Queen or a Prince. And the only family his father had was either across the Narrow Sea or at Driftmark that did not want his presence in their life.

Today, he attended the funeral of his nephew. Targaryen funerals are cremation. They are burned by dragon fire and their ashes scattered on the land that was their home when the Doom took Valyria.

They stand on the shores of Dragonstone, warm, salty air blowing as they wait for the Princess to light the pyre. Even if the body on the pyre is half charred.

No one speaks. It is a somber event. Aemond stares at the body on top of the pyre. It’s hard to accept that this is the body of the boy who was smiling and laughing just two nights ago. This was the boy who smirked and laughed and danced.

This was the boy who was alive and now he was not.

Behind the Princesss stood her other children. The Princess, Alyssa, clutching her twin and crying silent tears. The Prince, Aemon, clutches his sister, no tears dripping down his face but his eyes were bloodshot. As if he shed all the tears he could and now there was nothing left in him anymore. The youngest, Daemion, looked so confused as he stared at the corpse of his brother.

And the princess, Visenya, was still frozen. She was frozen since the night they found the Prince’s body. Staring out in the horizon, uncaring of what anyone was saying. As if a piece of her had died with her brother.

Beside her stood Rhaena. A bandage wrapped around her head to staunch the blood from the wound on her head where she was hit by the intruders and her mother holding her upright. He heard that she refused to stay away. She screamed that she would crawl to him if she couldn’t walk.

And Prince Daemon stood beside his wife, holding her as if to make sure she did not fall over. Or he was holding her so she could ground him.

Or maybe they were both holding onto each other.

They all stood still, waiting.

Rhaenyra looked up at her dragon. At her glance, the dragon inched forward. Caraxes behind her letting out a sharp whistle. His mother on his side, stiffening up a bit at the sight of the dragons. More of them joined, even Cannibal, although that one kept away from the others. That one snapped and growled at anyone or anything near him. It was more agitated than usual. Aemond wonders if the dragons truly encapsulate what their riders are feeling. Perhaps then this dragon is showing what his rider is feeling.

He sees his sister’s lips tremble, the way she grips her husband even more tight, the lone tear that she sheds before she utters the word.

Dracarys .

Aemond winces when he feels the heat of the dragon flame.

Around him, he hears the quiet sobs of others. He hears the roar of the dragons echoing the grief of their riders.

All except for one.

He sees Baelon’s dragon, Balerion, curled up at the edge of the beach slumbering while his rider turns to dust.

He sees Balerion, named after the God of death and the dragon of Aegon the Conqueror and his father’s dragon, and he realises it’s riderless.

Aemond stares at the dragon on the edge of the beach not even knowing that another pair of eyes were now looking at him.

Chapter 26: XXVI

Chapter Text

Aemond Targaryen

Dragonstone was colder than King’s Landing. In the sweltering summer heat it was almost impossible to stay cooped up inside the Keep or even the city. There was no reprieve from the heat no matter where you turned. It was different on Dragonstone. The cooling sea breeze was much more preferred than the stifling and putrid air of King’s Landing.

But Aemond wasn’t out in the dark to smell the breeze.

No, he was out on a mission.

He kept an eye out for it. Knew where it was and which path to take to head towards it. The guards only frown lightly when they see him walk out of the Keep. Wonders if any of them informed his mother of his night walk. She might be worried but she trusted him. Trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. He was his mother’s confidant since he was a child. Now, he wants to be her protector. There was one way to do that.

He sees the figure of the black dragon on the beach. It slumbered on, uncaring to the approaching figure. It was not as large as the other dragons. But it was probably as big as Seasmoke. It was a chance for him to show that he was a Targaryen Prince. He knew the process. They all tried to claim Dreamfyre but the dragon never roused.

He knew to calmly approach the dragon. He knew he would have to calm it down before climbing up. He would have to command it to fly. If the dragon accepted him then it would keep him on or it would throw him off its body.

If he died, well they were on Dragonstone and his family would not even need to make the journey twice to burn his body. Knows his mother would insist on a burial like the Faith demands, but he was a Targaryen and he wanted to die like one.

If he lived…

Aemond marches towards the dragon. Balerion finally hears his approach and slowly blinks to look at him as he nears him. It’s eyes narrowing and baring its teeth as he sees Aemond.

Aemond hesitates.

But he made up his mind.

So he goes to take a step forward when a voice calls out.

“What,” A chilling voice that freezes him. “Do you think you are doing?”

Aemond quickly turns around to see Visenya. Her hair was unbound. It was the first time he had seen her without her hair tied in an intricate braid. First time without the extravagant dress or her leathers for she wore a simple white gown. But it was really her face that stumped him.

Visenya was always smirking or smiling. Right now there was no smile on her face. Her eyes, always a vibrant purple, were cold and dead. She looked less like a living being and more as if she was a ghost haunting the island.

Aemond clenches his jaw. He did not need to answer her. His presence here near the dragon was enough to answer her question.

For a moment there was nothing but silence between them. Visenya is still staring at him with her dead eyes.

Then, he sees life return to her. As the dying embers in her eyes stroked to life until they were blazing inferno. As her lips curled back into a snarl and her fists clench.

He feels the wind grow stronger, as if they were answering the calls of Visenya’s ire.

“My brother’s ashes haven’t scattered yet and you wish to take what’s his?” She snarls.

“A dragon is no possession.” He snaps back, refusing to back down. This was his chance. His one chance to show…

“What do you know about dragons with your filthy blood? I see you are your mother’s son. A whor*’s son.”

Rage flowed through him like lava.

“You-”

“What?” She smirks cruelly. “Think I am lying? You were born from a whor*. Your mother climbed in the King’s bed before the blood in the sheets even dried like a common whor*. No wonder you’re no different. Filth breeds filth.”

He storms towards her. Doesn’t know what he will do. Maybe he will strangle her. He would choke her to death so she would shut up. How dare she talk about his mother in such a way? His mother who had no choice in her life? Who toiled at the service of her father and now his brother? Who never had anyone speak for her right?

She ducks as he raises his hands, twisting her foot behind his, causing him to stumble. Before he could stabilize himself, she holds up a dagger and presses it against him. Aemond stills when he feels the blade digging into him. As the blood wells against the steel.

He didn’t even realize she had a weapon.

“You raise a hand against me and I will slit your throat right here.” She whispers.

Knows that she means it by the look in her eyes.

“Have you ever seen someone choke on their blood? When their throat is split open? It is funny how they gasp for air. Pathetic how they writhe and claw for one more breath. Would you like to experience it?”

Feels the blood run down as she presses the dagger harder.

Sees her lean close until she is only a hair’s breadth away. Feels her breath on his skin.

“If you dare to do this, know that I will have Cannibal eat Balerion. You will know why my dragon has its name.”

His eyes widened.

She smiles coldly. “I would rather Balerion die before he is claimed by you or anyone else. Know this, I will rip you apart and leave you to vultures. Or maybe I’ll drag your body to your mother. Have her feel what my mother feels. Then justice will be served.”

“Killing me would be justice? Against what?”

She rips the steel away from his throat and steps back. No longer angry but staring at him with disgust.

“You live your entire life in the Court and yet you’re so unaware? My brother was murdered. Who stands to gain from his death?”

Aemond feels cold grip his heart. Denial bubbling up his lips. His mother wouldn’t. She would never.

Your grandfather would. A sly voice whispers.

“You would gain.” He says instead. “Now you will be your mother’s heir.”

She throws her head back and laughs. It’s sharp and cold. It’s ugly and horrible. It’s painful and wretched.

“I would win Kingdoms for him.” She says finally. “I would crown him like Visenya crowned Aegon. I would do anything for him. I would burn that Iron chair, King’s Landing and the whole of Westeros and Essos if he wanted it. I would kneel in front of him and give my sword to him.”

Aemond swallows. She has kept her grief silent. Aemond thought it was because she was too devastated. They knew that Baelon and Visenya were close. She would always trail behind him. Now he knows that she is not sad. She is angry. She is vengeful. And they would all burn from her wrath. Visenya Targaryen was a dragon and she would burn King's Landing to the ground. She would burn them all because they took her brother away from her.

She turns and starts to walk away.

Pausing for a moment to look at him, “you should know that we already have information on who did it. You must be careful, uncle. Your family is sloppy.”

And then she leaves Aemond on the beach. Scared of what was to come. Aemond knew his mother couldn’t do it. He knew it.

But his grandfather-

When he walked into the chambers his mother was staying in, he could see that she was still awake. Reading her book and probably preparing for her nightly prayers. He knew it was rude to burst in so late and his mother was sure to reproach him with the way she looked at him.

But he had to know.

“Did grandfather kill Baelon?” he asked.

In an instant, his mother’s face changed. She paled and looked around to see if anyone else was here to hear them before dragging him close to him, her nails stabbing into his arms.

“Aemond!” She hissed. “What do you think you-”

“Did he?”

His mother was shaking. She was pale and wide eyed. She was frightened. And so was he, but his terror was different.

“Mother you must… you must tell me. If he did do this and they find out then we must protect ourselves.”

“I..”

“Mother.” He begged. “Please. They know something. They know something and if they find he has anything to do with this we are all doomed! Think about Helaena!”

Her mother shook her head and let out a sob. “I don’t know. He talked about… I told him not to but I don’t know.”

Aemond felt a chill creep up again as his mother explained how his grandfather wanted all of Rhaenyra’s children dead. It seemed he could only kill one. If he really did this they were all dead.

“He doomed us, Aemond.” She whispered. “He ruined us all. Now we shall all suffer.”

Aemond let his mother clutch him tighter as she sobbed and only hoped his grandfather was smart enough to cover up his tracks.

Chapter 27: XXVII

Chapter Text

Rhaena Velaryon

She hates Kings Landing. Always has since she was a child and was brought to the wretched capital to be introduced to the King. Hated the cold walls that surrounded them. Hated the greens on the wall. Hated the ghastly robes and dreadful colors that decorated the palace and its people. Hated the King before she met him because she heard how he caused Rhaenyra pain and Rhaena had always loved Rhaenyra so much. Hated the Queen and her children because none of them were ever nice to her. Except for Helaena, but she was so often sequestered away by her mother that Rhaena rarely had the opportunity to talk to her. Not that she wanted to. She had her friends.

She had Baelon and Visenya. She didn’t need any other friends. The children of the Queen did not have dragons. They could not fly like Visenya, Baelon and Rhaena could. They wouldn’t get her. And she did not care.

She had all she needed.

Baelon. Visenya. Rhaena.

The three of them.

Now she was in King’s Landing again.

Now, she was dressed in black. Mourning, she thinks, as a fiance would. She wonders if mourning is enough to explain the loss she feels. This gaping hole inside of her.

Baelon. Visenya. Rhaena.

She feels more than sees how others look at her. Doesn’t even glance at them. Doesn’t want to when she can feel their gaze.

Pity. They pity her.

Poor child, they whisper behind her back. They were so besotted. What a loss.

She would feel, just for a moment, this urge to lash out at them. To claw their eyes out so that they stop looking at her like that. But then it would die down and she’d be feeling numb again.

She wanted to go find Grey Ghost. Wanted to run off and fly away from this wretched place. She’d feel better in the skies. She always did. She was a Targaryen.

But the last time she was on grey ghost it wasn’t just her.

Baelon. Visenya. Rhaena.

It was the three of them. Now there’s just two. Or, was it just one?

She couldn’t speak to Visenya. Every time she sees her she doesn’t know what to do. Whether she wants to kneel and ask her to forgive her or she wants to take her and run away. Run far, far away from this wretched place that only drains the life out of the ones with the blood of Targaryens.

She stays away from the gardens and halls. Stays locked inside her room and staring out the window. Her mother comes to look for her. Tries to get her to leave the room before finally giving up. Her father comes too, a surprise, but Rhaena is immune to him as well.

It doesn’t matter.

She stares out the window as she sees the people of the capital move on with their daily lives. The season is going to change soon. The sweltering heat would fade and they’d welcome winter. The world goes on and on even though Rhaena’s world stopped the day Baelon died.

How was it fair? How was it fair the sun shined when Baelon was gone? How could the world still be so beautiful when the one person who made her life better was gone? When she could do nothing but fall when he tried to protect her?

She replayed that night in her head. Over and over again. Thought how she could do better. Change something so she’d save him. She should have done better. She knew how to fight. She was a dragon rider. She should have been able to do something.

But she could do nothing but watch as men in black sprang at them. She could do nothing but watch Baelon’s face one last time before something, or someone, hit her and then everything went black.

There was a before. Before that night when she was happy and smiling.

This was the after. She lost him and now she lives with this grief.

“Rhaena.”

She turns to see Visenya standing in the doorway to her room. Dressed in black leathers, her dagger on her hip, her long silver hair braided back, her face pale as if she has not seen the sun in ages, and her eyes cold.

Rhaena says nothing. Waits for Visenya to say something. Anything.

When she doesn’t, Rhaena shifts to her right and waits.

Visenya walks inside and sits beside her. She reaches out for her hand. The two stay there like that. If Baelon were here, he’d be on Rhaena’s other side. She’d often sit in between the two so Visenya did not start fighting him in front of everyone. His teasing and taunts poked at her until Visenya would throw something at him and he’d retaliate and things would go down after that. In the end, Rhaenyra would find them and scold them. Trying to hide her amusem*nt at their antics.

Now it was just them. Visenya and Rhaena. Staring out the window, in silence, holding each other’s hand.

“Father has found someone.” Visenya rasps. She sounded as if she hadn’t spoken in days. Maybe she hadn’t. Rhaena feels like she hasn’t either aside from yes or no when asked whether she wants to eat.

“Someone?”

“Someone who knows who did it.”

Rhaena looks at her. Visenya keeps staring out the window. She never looks at Rhaena even as she feels her tense.

“..who.”

“You know who it will be.”

She does. She’s known since the start.

“When will we have proof?”

“Soon.”

“And what will happen to them?”

A flicker of a smile on her face and this time, she looks at Rhaena. Her eyes were no longer cold.

“What are our House words, Rhaena? We should remind them why we are who we are.”

Rhaena says nothing. She should feel horrified. She should stop Visenya.

She remembers Baelon’s smile. Remembers how he looked at her. Thinks how she can’t fly on Grey Ghost without feeling like something is gone because he was always there right by her side on Balerion with Visenya on Cannibal.

She tightens her grip on Visenya’s hand and doesn’t let go.

—

It was two days later that Rhaena followed her mother to the throne room. Sees the crowd in it shuffle nervously. She ignores her family and makes her way to Visenya, who was once again dressed in black leathers but had her sword attached to her hip. Her hair plaited back. Alyssa and Aemon on her other side at the foot of the throne. Doesn’t care who sees when she grabs Visenya’s hand and waits.

Doesn’t even glance at the Queen who shifts nervously or her children. Looked at the Hand once, his face pale and drawn and she wants to kill him right there. The King looked as he always did. Frail and weak.

Waits in silence until the door opens and Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen strides in. The whole room flinches as he stomps in and Rhaena wants to smile. They should be afraid. They should all be afraid of them. They took their son and now they would pay with their blood.

Behind them, guards drag a man in. It took Rhaena a while to understand that he had to be dragged because he couldn’t walk. His feet were twisted. So were his arms. As he got closer, she saw his bloodied face and upon closer inspection, she realized one of his eyes was cut out.

There was a sick, vindictive pleasure at this. It amplified when he was thrown in front of the King.

Rhaena did not need to look at the other side where the Queen and her father stood to know what would be on their face.

Rhaena smiled when the man looked up and looked straight at Otto Hightower.

Chapter 28: Important

Chapter Text

First of all, I want to say that I am super sorry for what I am about to say here lol. I know u guys wanted a chapter but well this is NOT a chapter. For that I am super sorry and I am sorry for what's coming next too.

I am gonna put this story on hold. I have a number of reasons for doing that.

First, the direction that this story is going to me feels unclear and muddy. And tbh I am not in a place right now where I can sit down to plot the later chapters properly. Like i mentioned many times before, my anxiety is bad now (shoutout to that reader who told me my writing got sh*t and to get therapy, yes i started therapy) and also i started my short sem and i'm taking too many classes for a short sem lol (yes im an idiot). So I'm too busy.

Second, i can't plot also cause I'm not fixated on daemyra currently. Currently I'm reading more reylo fics with some dramione in it and also reading a bunch of books (i'm reading 4 books at the same time now) so yeah since I'm not fixated on daemyra i can't really focus on this fic. Again, I am SO sorry.

Third, I genuinely dislike a lot of things about this fic. lol. I'm very... particular about how my ships are characterised and at one point (within the last few chaps) i started to realise that the way i wrote daemyra is so not how i like them. I know i like daemyra being loyal and loving but i also like their rs being sharp and jagged like the earlier chapters had. I just feel like this fic completely went off tangent from what it was. So I'm super annoyed about that. I'm also a bit surprised u all like the side ocs so much which makes me a bit... idk off? Because the main focus of this story was supposed to be about daemyra but now it's less about them and i have no one but myself to blame for that.

Fourth, this was supposed to be just a fun, mindless fic and i saw people starting to hope for more and I tried so hard to give that cause I loved daemyra and I loved u guys and this fic started being liked A LOT and i started to feel like i had an obligation when that's not how it was meant to be. Even when I told over and over again i do this for fun. It just seemed like writing this particular fic started becoming less and less interesting. Not to mention even if there were a few comments lol the mean comments genuinely took the fun out of it for me. especially the one last chapter as i mentioned above even though i laughed when i first read it cause i didn't know if they were being funny or what.

I just want to state something veryIMPORTANT which is that I am not gonna delete this fic. I'm thinking of more of a hiatus while I try to figure out what to do. Currently I have two options:

1. I can just post the next chapter detailing all the things I had planned (even tho i genuinely hate what i planned)
2. I will pause and go back up to a certain chapter and rewrite starting from then and repost it changing a lot of things.

So, these are my choices. I'm leaning more towards the latter bit tbh? but idk. You guys can choose and tell me.

Again, I am super sorry for this. I will really agree with whatever you guys choose. Just know that if you choose the second one a lot of things might change. Sorry. I detested writing certain characters in certain light in this fic (alicent especially lol).

Thank you for sticking by this fic for this long despite me being an unreliable bitch.

I do have other daemyra fics that are completed if you want to check them out. 1 that is not completed but i love that fic and will complete it.

Thank you!

Chapter 29

Chapter Text

An update:

I dont think I will be finishing this work. Simply because I genuinely dislike this lol. There are tons of things about this work I dislike. To rewrite it means to change everything about it and I dont have the time nor patience for it so sorry. Initially when I wrote this my views on a lot of things regarding hotd was just very black and white but the more I think about it the more I dont like how I wrote a lot of characters here, especially Alicent. So sorry about that. I don't really hate her. I pity her. And I hate how I wrote her here. Second if im being honest i've lost interest in daemyra. it's been happening for a while. Usually i attribute my waning interest to my adhd but if im being honest i genuinely dont think ill ever be into daemyra for a while again. There are other hotd ships i love (jace x baela) and I might write for those but not daemyra.

Lastly, I have other ships Im super into now. Other medias im into thats not hotd. I dont plan on watching s2 either beyond the rhaenyra, jace and baela cuts so yeah. I also have lots of Uni work to do and my mental health has been in trash since the start of this year.

I won't delete this work. I don't like doing that. But I'll likely just orphan it lol.

If anyone is curious how I wanted it to end.

I did think of faking Baelon's death. Cruel it might be to everyone except the ones who knew (Daemyra and Laena). I wanted to send him back to Essos. Wanted to make Rhaenyra's second son the heir and Rhaenyra the Queen for a while before she abdicates. This was rhaenyra's way of revenge. Wanted to frame otto for the murder and in turn lead to alicent losing her influence in court.I had no plans to kill aegon or aemond. I think with Aemond i might have either made him a Kingsguard? With Aegon well he can rot in a pit in KL by drinking. I think rhaenyra would have had him locked up tho cause of him being a rapist. Maybe have one of his victims kill him. who knows?

With Helaena i had no plans except for her to live a long and peaceful life. Maybe I'd have her fly to Essos with Visenya. Enjoy the freedom. Not being sold like her mother was and not made to have kids and lose them when she was a kid. I dont like her. idgaf about her tbh but as a woman i do sympathise with her.

Lastly, kinda like Rhaenyra and Laenor i planned to have Rhaena marry Aemon to secure the Velaryons loyalty. She'd be like Laenor is. The heir to Driftmark and the consort. Is it love they have? No. But they have an understanding and theyre friends. They were friends before this and theyll remain so.

As for Baelon and Visenya. Maybe a happy ending if she can forgive his betrayal. She might make him work for it for a long time before they are fine but oh well.

I think that's all. I won't orphan it for a few days. I want to read comments and replies.

Oh, if ure gonna be mad, i dont really care lol. I was doing this for free and for fun. it's simply not fun anymore. thanks.