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Chapter Text

Rhaenyras labors had started so late into the night one could almost say it had happened in the throes of early morning. Now, as she entered her third day of labor, the inhabitants of the Red Keep seemed to be able to speak no louder than a whisper as they waited for the screams to stop.

The king had long withdrawn to his chambers and had not emerged since, unable to face losing his daughter as he had her mother. Perhaps he would have allowed his wife access if asked, but the queen had made no such attempt.

No, Aegons mother was not with his father. Aegons last glimpse of her had been when he had watch her rush past a rather stunned Laenor into Rhaenyras chambers.

Aegon himself had been curled up in his hiding spot for nearly as long as she had been in there, unable to tear his gaze away from where Ser Harold and Ser Erryk kept watch. He didn’t bother to pray to the Andal gods his mother clung to, nor the Old Valyrian ones his father told stories of to Jace and Luke. The gods had never answered his prayers before and he doubted they would start now.

Or maybe the gods were like the king. Perhaps they too knew that Rhaenyra was more important than Aegon, was better suited to the role of heir, was worthier of their help than he was.

Vaguely Aegon wondered who would become heir if Rhaenyra lost her life in the childbed. Would it be Jace, a boy of only ten name days and the backing of the richest House in the realm? Or would the king follow in his grandsires footsteps and pass over his grandchild for his own child?

Aegon hoped that Rhaenyra lived, just as he had long hoped that the blood they shared would be enough to keep her from demanding his head. Hoped that upon her coronation the burden of the throne would finally be lifted from his shoulders.

Perhaps the stress would be what finally turned his father into an actual corpse. He was already most of the way there anyway.

A chuckle escaped him at the thought, Aegon clasping his hands over his mouth as he tried to keep his amusement from giving away his hiding spot. It took him a few minutes to prevent his laughter from becoming hysterical but as his laughter finally ceased, so too did the screams echoing from Rhaenyras chambers.

Aegon managed to scramble to his feet and duck past the outstretched arms of the rather surprised Kingsguards before another set of cries pierced through the air.

This time they were coming not from his sister, but from the bloody and wrinkled mess bundled into his mothers arms as she appeared at the threshold of Rhaenyra and Laenors bedchamber.

Aegon stopped dead just before his mother, who face had morphed from surprise to confusion to resignation to anger in mere seconds.

It was a struggle not to take a step back as his mother levelled her ‘that is not behaviour benefiting a prince of the realm and I know I taught you better then this’ glare onto him.

Oops.

Bursting into the rooms of the Crown Princess moments after she had given birth was probably not the most princely thing to do. Or just the most socially acceptable thing to do in general.

“Mother! How lovely to.. um.. see you here!” Aegon gulped as his mother simply raised an eyebrow at his words, moving only to rock the babe in her arms.

“Aegon…” Oh she really wasn’t happy. Aegon needed a way out of this and he needed it fast.

Luckily, it seemed the universe had sided with him today, because as a midwife appeared from behind her, Aegon was able to sidestep his mother and dart right into his sisters bedchamber.

The door closing behind him cut off the sounds of his mothers protests and Aegon stepped into the near silent bedchambers.

His mothers lack of upset had indicated that Rhaenyra had emerged from her ordeal somewhat unscathed, but Aegons fears had lingered. After all his mother and sister were not on the greatest of terms and who knew how she would react to her estranged childhood friends death. Alicent had her own fears, ones Aegon was intimately familiar with and many could perhaps be absolved with the princesses death.

None of that seemed to matter in the face of the bloody sheets the maids were pulling off of the grand bed in the center of the room. Aegon could not drag his gaze away from it, even as the rooms occupants protested his entrance, to busy trying to determine if anyone could survive losing that much blood.

“Egg?” Amid the protests of the midwives, Rhaenyras raspy call pulled Aegons gaze away from the blood-soaked bed to where she stood, her face pale and her eyes exhausted but alive.

His sister was alive and Aegon did not know if he had ever felt so relieved. He did not seem to be the only one either.

Stood behind Rhaenyra, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other gripped her arm, the relief in Laenors eyes was palpable to the entire room. Aegon had never seen either of the couple so exhausted, Rhaenyra seemingly unable to stand without her husbands support. Aegon stepped closer to them, suddenly very aware that he had just burst into his sisters private sanctuary at a particularly vulnerable time. Considering that Aegon could barely remember the last time he had had a conversation with either of them, he could imagine they were probably rather confused.

Aegon wouldn’t blame them if they had him dragged out, wouldn’t protest either now that he knew Rhaenyra was alright. He shifted towards the door as Laenor turned his attention to the servants behind them, intending to leave before Laenor could… wave the midwives off? Aegons eyes shuttered as they obeyed their mistresses husband, bewildered as to why he hadn’t been ordered out of the room yet. Perhaps the Heir to Driftmark intended for him to apologise before having him dragged out?

“Aegon.” It seemed Rhaenyra was more than happy to let her husband deal with the maids, simply beckoning the boy over as everyone else retreated. “It is good you are here, Laenor has been stubborn in his refusal to sleep so long as I could not and I’m quite sure that he may fall asleep before he can even help me out of the room.”

Unbidden, a shy grin overtook Aegons face as Laenors protested his wife’s words. It seemed that even if both were too tired to stand they were not too tired to tease one another, allowing Aegon to quietly slip an arm around Rhaenyra as the two bantered.

She was warm. Aegon supposed he should have expected it, the blood of the dragon ran through her veins as much as it did his. But Aegon could not remember the last time he had been so close to someone so warm, let alone half embracing them.

It was nice and as they moved towards the outer chamber Aegon found himself loathing the thought of letting go. But he did, even if every part of him screamed to return to the warmth, even if it felt as if he had been dumped outside Winterfell in the middle of a snowstorm as he continued to lower Rhaenyra onto the couch, ice crawling through his veins as he peeled himself away.

Aegon braced himself to spend the approaching night shivering in his bed with only a bottle of wine to keep him warm, mind already racing with ideas on how to sneak one past his guards before a blaze of warmth settled over his arm.

He could not prevent his yelp as Rhaenyra pulled him down onto the settee with surprising strength for a woman who had just spent three days in active labor. The princess seemed quite happy to simply ignore his bewilderment and simply pulled him into her side as a shadow fell over them.

His mother stood there, her eyes gleaming with suppressed amusement and her lips quirked upwards slightly. In her arms she cradled the cause of all this fuss, the squirming newborn he had glimpsed earlier. Clean as the babe was now, Aegon could see the brown fuzz crowning the babes head. The other features were still much too wrinkled for Aegon to determine from which parent they been had inherited from, but none of that mattered as his mother lowered her precious cargo into his parents waiting arms.

“You have a beautiful baby boy Rhaenyra,” Aegon had only vague memories of his youngest brother being born and none of his other siblings, but he hoped his mothers had been as happy as looked Rhaenyras as she gazed upon her babe for the first time.

(He avoided Laenors face, unsure if he could handle looking upon the loving and wondrous look he was sure was the babes father wore.

He didn’t know if he could see Laenors happiness upon the birth of his son and know that Aegons own father had never had any happiness around his.)

Rhaenyra rocked the babe as he began to fuss and Aegon couldn’t help but lean closer as the babes hands broke free of his swaddling and managed to grab at Rhaenyras silver hair. He ran a finger over the babes arm as Laenor tutted at the newborn, managing to detangle his grip on the hair but unable to move away quick enough to avoid one of those tiny hands latching onto his smallest finger.

Aegon barely noticed as his mother came to sit beside him, as Laenor asked if he was healthy after the long labor, as Rhaenyra began musing on names. His entire worldview had narrowed down to the little babe safe and secure in his mothers arms and yet still clinging to Aegons finger.

Aegons worries drained away and were soon replaced by the exhaustion they had been keeping at bay. A soft hand ran through his hair as he drooped against the cushions behind him, his head being pulled down onto someones shoulder.

The sleep that had eluded him since the second day of his sisters labor was upon him in seconds.

In the days after the birth it seemed as if the entirety of Westeros had descended upon the Red Keep.

Aegon had expected the nobles of Westeros. They had never turned down a reason to celebrate and the birth of a new prince or princess of the realm promised festivities beyond anything they could provide. The King had already organised at least two weeks of grand feast and tournaments in anticipation of his new grandchild and upon hearing of both his daughter and his new grandsons good health after the difficult birth Viserys had declared even grander festivities in celebration of the ‘strength and courage his heir had shown’.

He had not expected to wake to the deafening roar only one creature in existence was capable of producing.

Vhagar and her rider had descended onto Kings Landing barely a day after the birth of the newly named Joffrey. Riders had been sent to escort Laena Velaryon into the city when it became clear that Vhagar had finally outgrown the Dragonpit. She had disappeared into Rhaenyras chambers, joining both her brother and Aegons mother in their attempts to aid in Rhaenyras recovery.

When both Meleys and Caraxes had landed in the Dragonpit and the Seasnakes ships had been spotted not far off the coast not two days later it had become apparent that this was going to be a family reunion. Princess Rhaenys had been the only one to bother greeting the King before taking charge of the children inhabiting the Red Keep. Helaena had been elated at Baela and Rhaenas arrival and under the careful supervision of their grandmother Jace and Luke had seemed to shake off many of their fears for their mother.

Aegon had not seen his uncle, but rumour had it Daemon had stayed only long enough to see his daughters settled and briefly visit his niece before Caraxes could be seen snaking through the skies away the Kings Landing.

Even so, as both the Baratheon and Arryn parties had already been in the Keep when Daemon had arrived, the King could be heard delighting over having all those in Westeros he considered family gathered together.

Aegon had swiped several bottles of wine and spent the entirety of the time he was meant to be at that nights feast drunk and holed up in his chambers sobbing over his little brothers letters from Oldtown. He had woken up to Aemond snoring into his pillow and Helaena curled up at the end of the bed.

Aegon had ignored the dried tear tracks on their faces and simply snuck out. Or tried to. His mother had apparently decided that the perfect time to emerge from Rhaenyras rooms and check on her children would be the morning he had a hangover. Her disapproval about his behaviour had been apparent but Aegon had thought he had escaped punishment when she had simply waved him off with orders to bathe.

Now, sitting next to her at the bottom of the dais with the Iron Throne looming behind them and the nobles chattering below them, Aegon realised he had been wrong.

His mother had not decided to let it slide, no she had just delayed his punishment. Because despite there being numerous cupbearers with pitchers of Dornish Red and Arbour Gold, none of them would fill his cup. All he had been offered was juice, as if he was Lukes age and not nearly a man grown! Now he had to sit through this horrendous feast where no doubt the King would go on and on about the blessings House Targarean had been offered and how delighted he was to have his entire family gathered together to celebrate their new addition.

Aegon groaned as he slumped in his chair, pointedly ignoring his mothers poking and his little brothers glare at his posture. This was going to be a very long and boring feast and if he had to do it without wine then damn it he would sit how he would like!

His sulking went unnoticed anyway, as the doors opened and the highest ranking nobles began being announced. Each time the doors opened the hall was greeted with a parade of extravagance, as the Lannisters, Tyrells, Tullys and more were announced. Each strode down the aisle to greet the King and meet the newborn prince, flattering him and his mother with lavish praises accompanied by not so subtle hints of their daughters, granddaughters and nieces who were of a similar age. Rhaenyra greeted each one with a benign smile, accepting their praises and promising to seek them out later.

The Baratheon party were certainly boisterous as they were led in by Lord Boremund, with the elderly man greeting not only Rhaenyra and Laenor but also Princess Rhaenys, who was his… niece? Or perhaps cousin, Aegon had never been very good at listening when the maesters explained the family trees of other nobles. Learning his own was hard enough.

Next to him, his mother tensed the doors opened again, her knuckles going white as she curled her fingers around her seat. Aegon was already turning his attention to the front of the hall as Lady Jeyne Arryn glided down the aisle arm in arm with an older woman who shared her feature. Behind them the lords and ladies of the Vale followed their liege lady, a stark contrast to the Baratheon party.

The Vale held no love for the King and Lady Arryns curt greeting made it clear she had not forgotten what had befallen her aunt. Nor whom had been responsible for it. Aegon had never quite seen his father so uncomfortable as he was now. He would have liked the Arryns based purely on that, except for the disdain with which they regarded his mother.

All that seemed to melt away when they turned to greet Rhaenyra though. The elder woman looked almost longing as she ran her finger over Joffery’s cheek and Rhaenyra seemed to have no qualms about handing over her newborn son, something she had been rather hesitant to do since his birth. It took no time at all for Jeyne to clasp at her cousins hands and thought he could not hear what they were saying, Aegon could see how happy both woman were.

Aegon still couldn’t figure out who the older woman was and a glance to his left showed similar confusion from his siblings. Leaning to his right, he clasped at his mothers hand right before she could tear into her nail beds, pulling her hand towards him under the table.

“Who is that woman with Lady Arryn? The one who is holding Joffrey.” Aegon spoke softly, the way he had heard Aemond speak when he tried to calm either his mother or Helaena. His kept his grip on her hand soft and his mother seemed to relax somewhat, giving him a fond smile he so rarely saw directed at him.

“That is Lady Amanda Arryn, sister to the late Queen Aemma and aunt to both Lady Jeyne and the princess.” His mother seemed wistful as she watched the three woman. Aegon followed her gaze, able to now pick out the features they all shared. “I believe Rhaenyra has named Joffrey in honour of her Arryn relatives, especially since it seems he has inherited many of the Arryn features.”

Aegon nodded absently, interest already lost as Lady Amanda handed Joffrey to Laenor and the Arryns took their seats. As they settled at the table closest to the dais the nobles below finally quieted down, their gazes turning to the King as the final guests settled. 

But the King did not rise. Instead he simply turned to his eldest as Rhaenyra and Laenor stood, the latter cradling his youngest in his arms as the crowd turned their attentions to the Crown Princess.

“My lords and ladies, it is an honour to welcome you all and I thank you all for making the journey to join us in celebrating the birth of my son. The time since his birth has been one of great happiness and contentment for Ser Laenor and I as we welcome not only a new member of our family, but celebrate the congregation of our family, both close and distant.” Rhaenyra motioned to where the Arryns and Baratheons sat in the most honoured positions just below the dais, closest to the royal family.

“But as I am sure we are all well aware, those who travel the realm in search of knowledge or mentorship often sacrifice time with their families. While it is certainly a honourable and worthy sacrifice, there are times where such endeavours have to be put aside for the sake of family.” Rhaenyra turned to smile fondly at Alicent, her gaze making both Aegon and his mother straighten up.

“Her Majesty Queen Alicent has been by my side since our girlhood and the support and care she has provided throughout has reflected the kindness and selflessness she had always strived to emanate. Indeed such traits lead her to make a most difficult sacrifice in sending her son, my youngest brother, Prince Daeron, to her family seat of Oldtown so that he may be educated under the rigorous and diligent supervision of her uncle and family.” There was a message in there, Aegon knew. One even he, determined as he was to ignore the politics of the court, could understand.

“But as the birth of my own son has shown me, such bonds must be maintained. As such, it is with much delight and excitement to ask you all to welcome home both my brother Prince Daeron, and my uncle Prince Daemon!” Aegons mother was already out of her chair, her son frozen in his seat as the doors opened once again and in walked both his little brother and uncle.

They were barely halfway down the aisle before Daeron had been swept into his mothers arms, her normal composed and controlled demeanour no where to be seen as she reunited with her youngest son. Luckily the nobles attention was quickly drawn back to the dais as Rhaenyra continued.

“It is these sentiments that have not only driven me to summon my brother home, but have also influenced the name Ser Laenor and I have chosen to bestow upon our son, one that honours those of our family who originate from Westeros.” Here Rhaenyra turned to Laenor, who stepped forward to present the babe he held to the rest of the room.

“It is with great joy and pride that both Princess Rhaenyra and I give to you our youngest son, Prince Joffrey of House Velaryon!”

The feast had most certainly lasted late into the night, but Aegon had gone with his mother when she and the rest of his siblings had withdrawn for the night, eager to avoid the vipers nest of the court and reunite with Daeron in private.

The night had ended in a way Aegon was familiar with from his youth, all four of them curled together as they fell into sleep in his mothers chambers. But that morning had begun in a much more daunting way than the mornings of his youth had.

For back then, it would begin with a parade of nannies and servants entering to help the Queen wrangle her children and prepare for the days duties. They would be upbeat but respectful, mindful of their young charges status but unyielding to any protests.

The young maid who entered that morning was not one of those nannies. None of the nannies would have entered the Queens rooms with such a mournful and scared look on her face, nor would they have been alone.

Aegon knew what news she was delivering the moment she entered.

The King was dead.

Long live the Queen.

Chapter Text

Laenor had been abed with Rhaenyra, Joffrey soundly asleep in his crib next to them when Rhaenyras favoured handmaiden had slipped through the doors in the early hours of morning.

Since then Laenor had been trapped in non-stop preparations as they reeled from the consequences of Viserys’s sudden passing. Many had known of the Kings ailing health, but even the Maesters had thought Viserys had a few more years left in him.

Rhaenyras coronation was set to take place exactly a week after Viserys death, allowing for the court to not only pay the proper respects to their former King as he lay in state below the throne he had sat for over twenty years, but to also allow those loyal to Rhaenyra to ensure the security of her accession.

Laenor had already ordered that both Syrax and Seasmoke be moved to the Dragonyard in the Keep, excruciatingly aware of the toll Joffrey’s birth had taken on his wife and knowing that the presence of her beloved companion would both comfort Rhaenyra as she grieved her father and allay some of Laenors own fears regarding her safety as whispers ran amok through the Red Keep.

The nobles watched and wondered as the court moved into a state of morning. Many were curious as to whether the wishes of the late king would be upheld and Westeros would gain its first reigning Queen. Others hoped that the royal family would bow to tradition and crown the Kings first born son instead, an endeavour which many seemed to believe would be championed by both the Hightowers and many on the Small Council.

However, the only Hightowers of note present in Kingslanding at the time of Visery's death were the now Dowager Queen Alicent and her extremely loyal youngest brother Ser Gwayne. Alicent had already signaled that they, along with the rest of those connected to the House of the Dragon supported Rhaenyras accession and so a coronation fit for a Queen was planned. If any of the lords on the Small Council opposed this - and Laenor was sure there were many - those lords had kept any and all such opinions to themselves.

Laenor and Rhaenyra had both spent every waking moment working to ensure such opinions would hold no power. They had gone from meeting with his father to hammer out of the details of the titles Laenor and his sons would now hold, meeting with the small council to organise the both the coronation and the funeral, meeting with his mother to gain her advice and secure a promise to keep an eye on Daemon so that Laena could see to Rhaenyra, seeking out those nobles of whose loyalty they could be sure of and then seeking out those they could not be sure of.

In between organising the festivities and trying very hard to not freak out over the fact that he was now consort to the Queen of Westeros, it had proven difficult for Laenor to find time for basic necessities such as sleep and food. So when upon the morning of the funeral he was awoken mere minutes after the sun had risen by a servant bearing a summons from his father, it took everyone bit of self control Laenor had to prevent himself from simply shutting the door in the poor boys face.

Also Rhaenyra had only just gotten to sleep a few hours ago after fretting over some last minute details for both the funeral and coronation and Laenor had no wish to wake her by causing a scene.

Though when he finally reached his parents rooms and found out that he had been summoned to debate titles that were already determined, Laenor desperately wished that he had thrown propriety and politeness to hell and slammed the door when he had the chance.

Luckily his mother had intervened before Laenor could give into the urge to simply summon Seasmoke and disappear until it was time to gather, sending him off to rest until it was time for the funeral as she corralled her protesting husband back into their own bedchambers. Laenor had left, fully intending to pay a much needed visit to the nursery in search of some peace in the company of his newborn son, so determined to avoid anything that could divert that that he took the back passages Rhaenyra had shown him when they had first married all those years ago.

He really should have known better than to tempt the gods.

Muffled shouts followed by a sharp curse coming from ahead of him would certainly count as diversions and as he sped up to round the corner, Laenor was suddenly very glad that he had taken to carrying a weapon with him at all times.

The three men he found trying to subdue a struggling Aegon probably were not quite as thankful for his newfound habit.

The one he hit knocked unconscious with the butt of his sword certainly wasn’t but Laenor had little time to care as he simply wretched the mans knife out of his grasp and turned to face the other two.

“If you value your lives, you’ll unhand the prince and surrender while you still can.” Laenor doubted they would but for Aegons sake he hoped they would take him up on the offer. Laenor had no doubt he could take the two men but if they decided to simply cut their losses and try to kill both him and Aegon… well Laenor did not know if he could get them both out of that fight unharmed.

Both the assailants and Aegon had frozen upon noticing him, their faces frozen in such shock that in any other situation Laenor would have laughed, but as Aegon resumed his struggles they seemed to regain their wits. The man restraining Aegon immediately started to drag the boy back as his partner moved forward, brandishing his knife at Laenor as he advanced upon the knight.

Laenor simply allowed a slow smirk to bloom across his face. He could already see from the mans grip that he had little to no training in using the weapon and his swords much longer reach made both disarming and incapacitating the man a simple exercise. The brutish man went down easily and Laenor simply stepped over the body so he could continue towards the man holding a still struggling Aegon.

It seemed that the would be assailants had come prepared to deal with an inexperienced boy, not a knight whose skills had been forged in various battles. The man was already struggling to keep a hold of Aegon and once his back hit the wall he seemed to come to the realisation that no matter what he did he would not be walking away from this alive.

Aegon screamed as something flashed, scrambling to duck as low as he could as the mans arm rose with a knife held tight in his grasp, his gaze wild as he sought his escape.

Aegons would be kidnapper never got the chance to use his weapon, as a knife similar in make to the one he had yielded had made its home in his throat. Finally able to escape as the mans grip grew lax, Aegon scrambled into Laenors embrace. The poor boy was shaking like a leaf in a storm, his silver hair and fine clothing covered in his assailants blood.

Laenor simply sunk to the floor with him, holding him close as he reassured him. “You’re safe,” he murmured, eyes desperately searching the young prince for any injury, “I’ve got you, its ok,” satisfied that Aegon had no pressing injury, Laenor simply pressed his lips to the boys brow, rocking him as if he was one of his own sons freshly awoken from a nightmare. “They can’t harm you anymore, I promise.”

Laenor rubbed the boys back as he calmed, choking sobs slowing giving way to slight hiccups and finally small sniffles.

Eventually, Aegon pulled back from Laenors embrace, though his grasp remained firmly embedded into the older mans clothes. He didn’t resist as Laenor pulled him up, nor did he protest to being lead away from the bodies and towards the more populated parts of the Keep in search of help.

Finally they came upon both Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk. Laenor would have felt regret for interrupting their journey to the White Tower if it were not for the terrified prince in his arms.  Erryk was quickly dispatched to ensure none of the assailants had escaped as Ser Arryk offered to take the young prince to the safety of his mothers rooms.

Laenor was tempted by the offer, by the opportunity to to ensure those who had sought to harm his family could do so no longer.

But when Laenor had gone to transfer his charge from his own embrace to Ser Arryks, Aegon had whined in fear and protest as he pressed himself further into Laenors side. Laenor grimaced at the other knight, arms coming to wrap again around his young cousin.

“Go and help your brother in dealing with the assailants, Ser. I ensure my cousin is returned swiftly and safely to his mothers care.” The knight was already striding off, Laenor and Aegon continuing their own journey before a thought occurred to the Velaryon.

“Oh, and Ser.” The knight turned back, brow furrowed in confusion. Laenor simply gazed back, hoping his face displayed how serious he was. “I am sure the Queen would appreciate if this was kept under wraps. I do not believe I have to explain how fragile the situation is at the moment.” Laenor held Arryks gaze, his stare unnerving as the knight bowed his head.

“It will be done, Ser Laenor” Nodding Laenor finally turned back to his charge.

He had a prince to return and a Queen to warn.

The Dowager Queen had been in an already fragile state with the death of her husband, no doubt unsure of not just her own position but that of her childrens now that their sire had passed. Laenor still shuddered to remember the words whispered over the corpse of the king, fears of actions so abhorrent the mere mention of them had made every fibre of Laenors being curl in disgust.

If Alicent had acted on those fears… Laenor did not like to think of what could have happened, of the war they had narrowly avoided. Rhaenyras last labours had been a source of worry and fear as she struggled to safely bring their son into the world, but those struggles had borne a better fruit then any of them could imagine.

Still, even with both Rhaenyra and Laenas efforts to reconnect with the pious queen, Laenor dreaded to think what state Alicent would come to upon the news that her eldest was nearly kidnapped. He was not so naive to think that the few weeks since Joffrey’s birth was enough to overcome the years of fearful separation that had caused so much strife and he loathed having to bring to Alicent any news that could make such fears worse.

He was left with no choice though as he guided a still shaking Aegon towards his mothers chambers. His young cousin was in desperate need of a mothers comfort and Laenor needed to ensure the safety of the rest of their family. Still, his gut twisted in apprehension as they approached the queens chambers.

Thankfully, it was not the Queens sword shield on duty at her door. Laenor did not know if he could deal with the muderous bastard without losing his temper, something that would no doubt make an already horrid situation worse.

The Kingsguard stationed at the door straightened in surprise at their arrival, kept only from striding forward by Laenors slight head shake. Laenor could not quite make out who it was underneath the helmet, but it did not matter as they neared. So long as the man held to his vows of secrecy and loyalty to the Queen, his identity in that moment was of no issue.

“Quietly and discreetly send someone to bring the Queen here as quickly as possible. Bar the doors to anyone but her or those of our family.” Laenor did not bother to wait for the knight to respond, simply pushing the door open and ushering Aegon inside. Laenor was already calling for Alicent as the door thudded shut behind them, shoulders slumping slightly in relief as the woman in question rushed in.

“Aegon!” Laenor felt the hands that had held such a tight grip on his shirt finally loosen as Alicent pulled her son into her embrace, eyes wild as she took in Aegons rumpled state and burgeoning bruises. The boy was uncharacteristically quiet, succumbing to his mothers fussing in a way so at odds with his normal childish distaste for any perceived parental concern that at any other time Laenor would have thought the boy an imposter.

Eventually though, Alicent determined that Aegon had no more injuries than a few bruises and her gaze snapped up to take in the man who had delivered him. Laenor grimaced when he saw her eyes spark in fear as she took in his own rumpled state and the way he was still clutching his own blade. He had taken no time to consider what it would look like, bursting into her rooms with her son in such a state and Laenors own anger so evident.

“What’s happened! What’s… what’s going on!” Laenor stepped forward as Alicents tears finally fell, concern twisting through him as she nearly choked on a sob. Laenor winced at the yelp Aegon let out as she drew the two of them back as his approach, guilt coursing through him as he kept his distance from them. “Where are my children! I… I need them! They must be safe, where are they!”

The relief he felt when Rhaenyra burst into the room followed closely by both Laena and Daemon nearly left Laenor breathless, hopeful that perhaps their presence would set Alicent at ease in a way he was failing to do so. Still, he had enough awareness to catch Daemons arm and prevent him from getting too close. Laenor simply met his good brothers scathing glare with a distinctly unimpressed one of his own. They both knew that Daemon had no real love for his brothers second wife and even less for her family.

Daemon getting much closer when Alicent was in such a state would only make things worse.

Rhaenyra and Laena had it well in hand anyway, his wife and sister quickly seeking to quell Alicents fears and unite her with children. Rhaenyra left both mother and son in Laenas care as she wrenched the doors open and called for her own guards. Laenor could just make out her orders for them to locate her siblings and bring them to their mother.

“Daemon.” Laenors words were quiet but enough to catch Daemons attention, the elder man humming in acknowledgement, gaze stuck on where his wife had pulled Alicent and Aegon into her own embrace. “Three men attempted to kidnap Aegon not an hour ago.”

“What!” Daemon seemed more dragon than man as he whipped around to meet Laenors gaze, his own vicious at the thought of a threat present to his family. Laenor glared at him when his outburst caused the queens sobs to hitch, grabbing his arm to pull him towards the door.

“I interrupted them and incapacitated all three. I sent both Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk to ensure they didn’t escape but we need to ensure that there are no more of them in the Keep. My sons and your daughters are under guard but I do not trust that without knowing how exactly the assailants got into the Keep.” Laenor kept his voice low, unwilling to cause further upset.

“I will let Corlys and Rhaenys know and leave the children in their care before I go hunt down the scum who did this.” Daemons gaze had turned calculating, his eyes cold as he turned to leave. Laenor had no doubts that the man would not stop until he had ensured the security of the entire Keep. Perhaps if he were anyone else he would have pitied the men for the fate they would meet when Daemon got his hands on them. But he was not and as Laenor turned back to where Rhaenyra had once again joined Laena in comforting the pair, Laenor found himself looking forward to seeing the results of Daemons handiwork.

Right now though, Laenor had the consequences of the mens actions to deal with. Rhaenyra turned to him, her gaze stony as she stood in front of the others, legs planted in a stance Laenor himself had taught her.

Their gazes met, Rhaenyras stony glare a silent demand for an explanation.

It was eerily similar to standing in the command tent on the Stepstones, hastily recounting the results of the latest battle to his father and uncle. Finally he trailed off, slightly unnerved by the way Rhaenyra continued to stare right through him.

“They tried to kidnap Aegon?” Rhaenyras question came out as more of a demand, her entire body tense.

“It seems so, yes.” Laenor flicked his gaze to behind her, where Alicent had frozen in shock, kept standing only through Laena and Aegons support.

“From inside the Red Keep.” Laenor met his wife’s eyes with his own, letting her see that he felt her anger, her fear for what they could have done to her brother. “They tried to kidnap my brother, to strike at our family, right in the heart of our home?”

“Yes.”

The curses the new Queen let out at his answer would have made even the roughest of his fathers sailers blush

Viserys’s funeral was a private affair, held on the same cliff where Rhaenyra had said goodbye to her mother all those years ago. Laenor held his two eldest sons close to him, gaze flicking between where Rhaenyra stood and where Rhaenys stood by the side of the newly widowed queen and her children, the Lady of Driftmark cradling her newborn grandson tightly.

The entirety of the Kingsguard and numerous household knights surrounded the mourners, but even with their presence Laenor could not lower his guard. Not after the events of that morning and certainly not when the entirety of his families future was in attendance. Daemon had his and Laenas girls in hand but Alicent had four children to wrangle and Laenor had no doubt that the mornings events had made an already stressful task worse.

Laenor knew not what his wife had said when she had pulled the queen away, but whatever it was it had worked to ensure that both Alicent and her children were there to farewell Viserys one final time. They could not afford to show any weakness right now and their absence would have spurned further rumours about discourse within the House of the Dragon, rumours of which they could not afford to deal with as well.

There would be no time to dwell in their grief after this. Whatever scarce spare time Rhaenyra had managed to carve out would be devoted to ensuring the safety of their family as they prepared to face the challenge posed by whoever had ordered for Aegon to be taken from his home. Laenor had no doubt Daemon had already set his contacts to work in finding the traitors behind it. Laenor himself would be stepping into his new duties as her consort, ones that had already begun. Both Daemon and Laenor had already had several discussions with Corlys about how to better secure the safety of the royal children, with the Sea Snake offering the services of numerous household guards and knights sworn in service to House Velaryon to aid in protecting his grandchildren.

Rhaenyra had simply told them to coordinate with Ser Harrold to ensure that security for both the funeral and coronation was heightened, with a focus on the measures in place for the children.

Already those efforts had proven fruitful, with not only numerous guards surrounding them but also numerous dragons. Whereas Syrax had been alone the last time she was called upon to preside over a funeral, today both Seasmoke and Meleys flanked the she-dragon as Caraxes and Vhagar circled overhead.

Laenor would not be surprised if either Daemon or Rhaenyra had ordered that none but the youngest of the dragons be confined to the Dragonpit. Dragons had always been what had set House Targaryen above the rest of the realm and while there may be those who railed against a ruling Queen ascending the throne, perhaps a reminder of the power that Rhaenyra commanded would give them reason to pause before they moved to strike against her.

Laenor had known since the moment they had been betrothed that he would have to go to battle for Rhaenyra. He doubted that he alone held that sentiment.

Finally though, the Septons voice had trailed off and all eyes turned to Rhaenyra. His wife looked almost ethereal as she stood before the pyre, the golden sunlight glinting off her hair in a way reminiscent of her mounts lauded golden scales.

“Boys,” Laenor murmured, “I need you to go to your grandparents, all right? I’ll come get you in a moment.” Laenor watched as both boys nodded and made their way over before turning his attentions back to his wife.

The Kingsguard surrounding her tensed at his approach, their hands going to their swords as they scanned the horizon behind him for threats to their queen. Laenor simply met Ser Harrolds gaze, holding it until the Commander bowed his head and motioned for the others to let him through.

Rhaenyra didn’t react as he came up beside her, only turning away from where her fathers body lay when Laenor took her hand in his own.

“They are waiting for you.” Laenor kept his voice soft, thumb moving back and forth over the back of her hand as she finally met his gaze with her own. Laenor gave her a sad smile, reaching up to cup her face as the tears in her eyes threatened to fall.

Laenor had never held any particular fondness for the King, all too aware of the pressure and stress he had dumped on his eldest child’s shoulders in the wake of her mothers death, of the damage his neglect had caused to all of his children. But he also knew that for all of Viserys’s faults, Rhaenyra had loved him dearly and the death of her only remaining parent was not an easy loss.

“I do not know if I can do this again Laenor.” Rhaenyras voice was hoarse, the grief she had put aside for the last week finally making its presence known. “I have already burned one parent and now to say goodbye to the other.” She trailed off, her eyes slowly returning to the pyre.

Laenor waited as Rhaenyra gathered her thoughts, thumb still flicking back and forth across the back of her hand. As the silence stretched out further, Laenor finally reached out to take hold of her other hand.

“You are not alone in this, Rhaenyra.” Rhaenyras lilac eyes met his own amethyst ones, his sympathetic gaze meeting her teary eyed one. “I have your back and so does everyone behind you. There will be those who challenge you, who challenge us. But when they do, we will meet them as those before us always have.” Laenor turned them both back to face the pyre, releasing Rhaenyras hands from his own.

“With Fire and Blood.” The words were quiet but strong as Rhaenyra straightened up, her face melting back into the solemn one she had warned since they had left the Keep.

Rhaenyra stepped forward.

Above them Syrax began to move forward, her eyes turning to find her rider as everyone else drew back, leaving the Queen alone before all of them.

“Dracarys!”

Chapter Text

The morning of Rhaenyras coronation was a bright one, the sun beaming down on Kings Landing. It was only the cool sea breezes blowing in from over Blackwater Bay that kept the masses from baking in the heat.

For Rhaenyra, who had been awake since long before the sun had risen, the bright light was an unwelcome quest. Rhaenys had come to her and Laenors chambers early that morning, accompanied by maids bearing both of their favourite foods and numerous other servants she had set to work. Despite the early hour, Rhaenys had been as put together and poised as she always was. The early hour had not mattered to her and the princess was well practised at waking up reluctant Valyrians. Both Rhaenyra and Laenors protests had fallen on deaf ears but Rhaenys had been unbothered by their attempts to deter her from disturbing their slumber and soon both of them had been sat in their solar with strict instructions to eat.

Rhaenys had slipped out after ordering the maids to lock their bedchamber door and bar the two entry. Rhaenyra had been far too tired to protest, Laenor slumping in the chair beside her. They both knew protesting would be futile anyway. Rhaenys had been like this for as long as Laenor could remember and upon Aemmas death the elder woman had taken it upon herself to bestow Rhaenyra with the same treatment.

Barely half an hour later, the main door to their chambers opened again and Rhaenyra was suddenly extremely glad that she had ensured their boys were in different chambers. She had no desire to deal with two overtired young boys and a restless babe this early in the morning. Especially not with what had happened the day before and certainly not with what the day ahead held.

Rhaenys ushered both Laena and Daemon, a bewildered looking Alicent following behind her. Rhaenyra rose at Alicents arrival, perplexed to see her away from Aegons side. She had refused to leave her eldest sons side since the attack, something for which Rhaenyra could not blame her for. The Dowager Queen blinked at her confusion, brow furrowing in her own confusion before realisation crossed her face.

“Gwaynes with them.” Oh, of course. Rhaenyra nodded and sat back, already reaching for another tart. Alicent would never have left the boy alone, but she seemed to trust her bother above everyone else. She probably never would have come here if her brother was not there to look over her children.

They continued to eat in comfortable silence, the hour much to early to be making conversation. Rhaenyra was struggling not to fall asleep as she cradled the cup of tea Rhaenys had pushed into her hands, her eyes drooping as she downed the hot liquid. Laena sat beside, doing only marginally better at being alert. The other woman was far more used to her mothers early wakeup calls and had managed to throw a robe over her nightgown before leaving her chambers.

It was far better than what her husband had managed. Rhaenyra was honestly surprised that Daemon wasn’t missing his pants as well as his shirt. The Rogue Prince was not known for his love of mornings and it was a miracle that Rhaenys had managed to not only drag him out of bed but also through the halls to Rhaenyras chambers.

The woman in question had disappeared deeper into Queens chambers but Rhaenyra could hear her muffled voice through the walls as she directed the horde of servants she had brought to prepare them. The chamber door opened and shut many more times as the gowns prepared for all four woman were brought in and as the clothes meant for Laenor were taken out.

“I’m surprised she’s even letting them handle the damn things with the way she’s going.” Daemons voice was muffled from where his forehead rested upon the table, but his yelp when Laena whacked him across the head was easy to hear.

“She is simply ensuring that all goes well.” Laena scowled down at her husband before turning to face all of them. There was a warning in her voice as she spoke, her eyes steely. “Too much has gone wrong in the past few weeks and if her fussing means that things go right I do not believe any of us are in a position to challenge her on that.”

Rhaenyra raised her cup in acknowledgement of her cousins words, a gesture mirrored by both Alicent and Laenor. Daemon finally sat up, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his head. His muttered apologies went unacknowledged as Rhaenys strode back into the room, her hands clasped in front of her as she surveyed them all.

“Right then.” She sighed as she took in her younger cousins rumpled state. “Laenor, you and Daemon are to meet you father in our chambers to get ready there. I have already had your outfits and things taken there and the boys will also join you at a later time.” Laenor sighed as he stood, throwing on the robe his manservant had ready for him.

He didn’t bother to offer a robe to Daemon, simply hooking an arm under his goodbrothers elbow and dragging the grumpy man up and out of the room. Laena was already pushing herself away from the table and both Rhaenyra and Alicent quickly copied her, far too aware of the piecing gaze Rhaenys had directed at them.

Rhaenys was already halfway out the door, the three younger woman hurrying to follow after her. “Helaena, Rhaena and Baela will join us in a few hours, so that leaves us some time to get ourselves ready before helping them out.”

Rhaenyras solar was on the other side of her set of rooms to her bedchamber, an attempt to keep her inner chambers private. That also meant that not much could be heard between the two rooms, a fact that Rhaenys had taken advantage of. Servants bustled through the room, laying out shoes, rings, necklaces and bracelets. Along the wall opposite the fireplace were four mannequins displaying the gowns they would wear.

Laena and Rhaenys had decided on dresses that honoured their connection to House Velaryon, but had both commissioned dresses that were trimmed with black lacing. Such embellishments served not only to honour their ties to House Targaryen but also to signal that they were still in mourning for the late king. The rest of the dresses were made of a blue fabric that resembled the sea on a fair day.

Upon both dresses the seamstresses had sown in numerous pearls, but that was where the similarities ended. Rhaenys had opted for a golden belt shaped as a rope and long sleeves that widened around her wrists.

Laena had always liked to wear dresses with extravagant sleeves and this dress was no different. Laena had worked extensively with the seamstress and the result was a masterpiece in dressmaking. It would almost look as if she was wearing armour, with her sleeves and bodice bearing a distinct resemblance to the dark scales of Vhagar. It was a homage and a reminder of the power she wielded, of the extraordinary creature she had bonded with.

As both woman praised the seamstress for her and her teams work, Rhaenyra turned her gaze to Alicents gown. The gown was understated but stunning. Most of the dress was black, as fitting Alicents state of mourning for her late husband. The true beauty of the dress came from the extensive detailing that went along the neckline and down the middle of the dress, golden embroidery swirling around the numerous rubies sown in.

As the other woman parted to other areas of the room so that the servants could paint their faces and pin their hair up without worrying about getting anything on the dresses in the process, Rhaenyra could not tear her gaze away from her own dress.

The seamstress had balked when Rhaenyra had brought her the idea, hesitant to criticise the Queen but perplexed at her request. But Rhaenyra had persisted and eventually the woman had bowed to her will.

The result was better than she could have expected.

The main body of the dress was made from a fabric that had black dragon scales upon a background of red. Rhaenyra had found herself favouring square necklines as she matured and embroidered just below it was a golden dragon, a homage to her lovely Syrax. Her front bodice was framed by black panels of stiff velvet laced with gold and her sleeves were sheer from her shoulders to her wrists, but it was Rhaenyra had done to her skirts that had given the seamstress reason to pause.

The dress split at her waist, fanning out as if it was a coat and not a dress. Underneath it Rhaenyra would wear riding leathers that had been embellished for the occasion, along with her riding boots. A gold and black cloak was displayed upon another mannequin, golden chains running along the shoulders of it.

The alteration was necessary though. After all, Rhaenyra would not be travelling to her coronation in a wheelhouse. Not when she had a much better way to arrive.

By the time all four woman were ready and Helaena and the twins had joined them, the sun had to have been out for at least an hour. Rhaenyra clapped her hands as Rhaena twirled in delight, letting her long skirts billow around her. Both Rhaena and Baela were dressed in burgundy reds with black trimming, with Rhaenys having commissioned two small gold belts so that her granddaughters would match her.

It had taken both the gift from Rhaenys and coaxing from her mother to get Baela to wear the elaborate gown. The elder twin had long preferred the freedom of looser clothing and it was only the formality of this event that had convinced her to put aside her distastes for such heavy gowns.

But as Helaena disappeared behind the screen with her mother to change into her own outfit, Rhaenyra turned her attention away from her niece, fingers twisting her rings as her nerves made themselves known.

It was Helaena’s gown that Rhaenyra was most excited to see, for it was a gift from her to her younger sister.

With only a week to plan the coronation, Alicent and Laena had decided that making the gowns for the four woman would be more than enough work for the seamstress. After all, all three girls were still growing and commissioning three new gowns that they would grow out of in a manner of months was something they had no time for. Instead they had decided to have old gowns of theirs altered and Rhaenyra had immediately stepped forward to offer her own. She knew that as a princess her girlhood dresses had been much more elaborate then the dresses of a daughter of a second son and she had ensured that many of them were stored away, hoping to pass them onto her own daughter.

Now though, she passed on one of her most treasured gowns.

Rhaenyra gasped as her sister stepped out from behind the screen, her mother following close behind.

Helaena had donned an altered version of the dress that Rhaenyra had worn when she had been declared the Princess of Dragonstone. Although the young princess had decided to forgo the cloak and shorten the dresses sleeves on account of the heat, she had chosen would wear the same headpiece and Rhaenyra had allowed her to pick matching jewellery from her own collection.

Alicent was blinking back tears as she beamed at her daughter, her pride evident as she bid Helaena to spin around and show the dress off to the room. The normally shy and quiet girl copied her mothers expression, blushing when her little twirl was met with numerous compliments on both the dress and her own beauty.

The court had long whispered about what a shame it was that the younger princess would not grow to match the beauty of her elder sister, the one they had deemed the Realms Delight. Watching her little sister twirl again for the twins, Rhaenyra knew that they would all be proven wrong today. Helaena had the natural beauty of her mother and the ethereal features of her fathers ancestors. Though entering that awkward stage that they all went through, Rhaenyra thought her sister would mature into a rather stunning woman.

Once each of them had been checked over again, maids rushing to ensure not a hair was out of place and the seamstresses carefully conducted one last inspection of their creations, Rhaenyra and Laena were able to usher the three girls out of the rooms, leaving Rhaenyra to take a moment to gather herself.

Alicent stayed behind, waiting quietly as the servants streamed out of the rooms before speaking.

“You will make a fine queen you know.” Her voice was soft, just audible from where Rhaenyra stood on the other side of the room.

“Do you truly think so?” Rhaenyra could not turn to face Alicent, unable to bear the idea that Alicent did not. That this was merely flattery, a result of the fears she had whispered to her over the  rotting corpse of a man they had tried so hard to love.

“I do, Rhaenyra.” Alicent surged forward, almost desperate as she grasped Rhaenyras hands in her own. “I truly, honestly do believe it. I have seen the work you have put it, how you have strived to learn all that you could.”

Alicent sighed, turning her head to the side. She was frustrated, Rhaenyra realised, her front teeth knowing on her bottom lip. “I know that we have not always agreed on certain matters. But these past few weeks…” She trailed off

Rhaenyra squeezed her hands, thumb tracing circles on the back. She knew Alicent would find the words in time, she simply had to wait. Eventually the redhead turned back to meet her gaze, her back straightening as she stared Rhaenyra down.

“These past few weeks have been some of the most stressful and confusing weeks of my life. But they have also been some of the happiest because you and I… we talked. Civilly. We spent time together just as we used to and that is why I know you will be a good queen.” Rhaenyra couldn’t turn away, her heart in her throat as she returned Alicents stare.

“Rhaenyra you and I have been horrible to each other for years. But the moment you could, the moment I came to you and gave you the chance, you did everything to reconcile with me. Even though you were in pain, even though you had a whole host of new responsibilities and problems, you still reached out to me and offered your heart. It was that sacrifice, that kindness that convinced me to try, and…” Alicent heaved a sigh, her lips twitching up in an almost sad smile. “…well that was all I needed to pledge my loyalty, my faith, my trust and my heart to you.”

“Ali…” The old nickname fell from Rhaenyras lips, so soft she didn’t think Alicent even heard it. The former queen simply looked at her, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Laenors waiting for you Rhaenyra.” Alicents head tilted to the side, her lips quirking in a way that made Rhaenyra long for the peace and comfort of their shared youth. “Go become the Queen.”

Laenor was indeed waiting for her, already astride his own mount as she approached the Dragonyard. He had shed his usual Velaryon blues and golds for the occasion, instead dressed splendidly in the red and black of his wife and mothers house.

“My dear wife.” he called, bowing comically in his saddle as she neared where Syrax stood. Rhaenyra smiled as her Golden Lady rose to meet her, snout coming to bump at her middle as the woman stroked at the scales between her eyes.

“I do hope you have not been waiting for long, dear husband!” As Syrax lowered herself to the ground, a Dragonkeeper came forward to help Rhaenyra mount but was quickly waved off. She had been riding Syrax since she was but seven name days. She was more than capable of mounting her dear companion, even if her outfit was rather heavy.

“Not at all!” Laenors shot her a cheeky grin he had passed onto Jace, gathering his own reins as Rhaenyra settled properly into the saddle. “Though I do believe that we should probably take to the air soon. Your Syrax has been waiting here a while and she is not known for her patience!”

The dirty look Rhaenyra threw at him did nothing but make Laenors smile even wider. Shaking her head in quiet amusement at her husbands antics, she reached for her own reins as Syrax rose.

Rhaenyra and Syrax took to the air first, slowly circling the keep as they waited for Laenor and Seasmoke to join them. It took her husband and his own dragon little time to do so and once both dragons had soared together for a few moments, Rhaenyra directed Syrax towards the city proper. They flew lower than normal and the city streets were filled with crowds of the smallfolk, who waved and cheered when they flew past.

Upon their third lap of the city, Rhaenyra turned to Laenor and signalled towards the Dragonpit.

It was time.

Syrax and Seasmoke landed together as the entrance to the Dragonpit, nearest the crowds of smallfolk who had gathered behind the nobility to watch. Murmurs sprang up at how close the two dragons were, with many parents drawing their children closer. But their nervousness was short lived and as Rhaenyra dismounted they cheered. The City Watch was out in full force, with the gold cloaks lined along the aisle they would walk through, swords raised in a guard of honour.

Rhaenyra walked through it before she could give herself time to hesitate.

Beyond her, she could see her family gathered on the dais. While most of them stood to the side, Alicent stood in the middle flanked by Luce and Jace. Jace held the golden crown that had been her fathers and his grandfathers before that, while Luce held the golden circlet that had once belonged to Prince Aemon, Laenors grandfather. Just beyond them, Aegon held the sword of kings, Blackfyre. Where as these symbols had once been wielded by a long line of Kings, now they would be wielded by a Queen, one who would rule in her own right.

Laenor walked behind her, a clear message to those present.

It would not be him who ruled the realm, whether in her name or in his own. Laenor would be her consort and he would be crowned beside her, but it would be Rhaenyra who would sit the upon the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra knelt when she reached the top of the dais. Once Laenor settled to her side just behind her, Alicent stepped forward.

Much of the ceremony passed in a flash, Rhaenyra having practised the words she had to say hundreds of times over the past week. It was only when she felt that golden crown settle upon her brow that she stood, Alicent flashing her a quick smile before turning to place the crown that had once belonged to his grandfather upon Laenors head. As he rose, his gaze caught his mothers, whose eyes shimmered with unspoilt tears at the sight of her son bearing her fathers crown.

As Aegon came forward, Alicent drew herself and Rhaenyras boys back. Rhaenyras lips quirked upwards at her younger brother as he knelt, holding up the Valyrian Steel sword to her. Laying a hand on his head in silent thanks, Rhaenyra wrapped a hand around its hilt. Turning, she reached for Laenors hand, lifting both it and the blade she held up to the crowd as Daemons voice rang out behind them.

“All Hail Her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm and His Grace Ser Laenor Velaryon, King Consort and Sworn Protector to Queen Rhaenyra and Heir to Driftmark!”

Chapter Text

“The nobles of Westeros certainly don’t grieve for long.” Rhaenyra let her lips twitch up at her husbands muttered comment, a mirthless smile rising as she took in the exuberant masses celebrating below.

“Oh but my dear King, what else would they do?” Rhaenyra pressed closer to him as Laenor ducked his head to hide his snicker, her face as solemn as her words were snide. “After all if they stopped celebrating, then they may have to actually do something useful and that would be much to hard.”

Rhaenyra sat back at that, her own smirk threatening to make an appearance as Laenor fumbled for for his drink in a poor attempt to hide his own mirth. Perhaps she wasn’t giving the lords and ladies of the court enough credit, after all not all of them had been useless in the aftermath of her fathers death. But sitting above them, her crown upon her brow and her grief in her heart, Rhaenyra was finding it difficult to be charitable to any of them.

Not when so many of them watched and waited, hoping to see her fall. Not when any of them could quite possibly be involved in the attack upon her brother.

Rhaenyra had been queen for only a week and already she was fending off threats to her rule. Never mind that Aegon was still only just a boy who the pressures of the crown would crush, if it placed those traitors in power then they would do it.

Or try to.

Never had Rhaenyra thought she would be glad to have struggled in the birthing bed. Now though, sitting at her coronation feast surrounded by her family with the crown rested safely on her head and the throne at her back, Rhaenyra could only thank whichever god had enabled her struggle to result in her mending her relationship with Alicent. A smile rose to the new Queens lips as she took in where Alicent sat between her youngest and her eldest.

While Aegon seemed stuck between wanting to stick to the comfort and security of his mothers arms or rejecting what he considered as childish behaviour, Daeron had no qualms about sticking to his mothers side. Her youngest brother had obviously missed the comfort of his mothers embrace while away at Oldtown and once again Rhaenyra cursed her fathers blind trust in the snake that was Otto Hightower, furious at the obvious distress they had caused by separating Daeron from his family.

She was just thankful that she had made the decision to send Daemon to bring her littlest brother home before their father had passed. If Daeron had still been in Oldtown when the old king had died, Rhaenyra was under no illusions that he would not have been made a hostage to force Alicents cooperation with their schemes.

Rhaenyra had spent little time with her siblings who had lived in the Red Keep their whole lives, an error she was determined to make up for despite all that was happening. She had spent even less time with the brother who had been taken away and knew virtually nothing about the boy except his name and dragon.

Except a conversation she had had with Alicent two days prior was forcing its way to the front of her mind and before Rhaenyra knew it she was on her feet and headed towards where Daeron sat, determined to put her idea into action.

“My apologies for interrupting you obviously very interesting story Aegon,” the boy in question blushed, looking sheepish as he lowered his hands from where he had been waving them around as he exuberantly chatted away. “But I had been told that a certain young prince had just recently mastered many of the courtly dances and I was wondering if I could possibly get a demonstration.”

Rhaenyras could not help the warm fondness that settled in her chest at the way her youngest brother perked up at her words, a shy smile rising to his lips at her compliment. Beside him Alicents gaze reflected Rhaenyras own fondness, her smile soft as she took in her youngest and the way he had looked to her at Rhaenyras invitation. It took but a small nod before Daeron was turning back to his eldest sister.

“It would be an honour to dance with you, Your Grace.” Daerons words were carefully said, each one enunciated slowly. As the little boy glanced to where his mother sat, beaming in pride, Rhaenyra had little doubts that those words were practised and practised well. Alicent had mentioned the boy was fascinated with stories of knights and the battles and adventures they undertook. No doubt little Daeron also put great weight on the principles of chivalry then.

“Call me Rhaenyra or sister, dear brother. Your Grace is much too formal between family.” Rhaenyra bit back a grin when the young boy nodded shyly before summoning the courage to offer her his arm, a gesture Rhaenyra returned by laying her hand over his own and allowing him to escort her to the dance floor. The gathered nobles parted for them, whispers following in their wake as brother and sister took to the dance floor. Rhaenyra ignored them, tucking a lock of Daerons silver hair away from his face when she noticed his furtvitive glances at the crowd staring at them.

“Pay them no mind, valonqar. They are simply jealous that I have captured the attention of the bravest knight in Westeros and deprived them of your charm.” Rhaenyra winked, unable to help the wide smile from gracing her lips when Daerons burst into laughter, his giggles causing her heart to swell in fondness and banishing her previous dark thoughts.

They danced the next three sets, simple dances that Daeron had only just learnt but was already skilful at. Rhaenyra was the happiest she had been since her fathers passing, twirling around with her little brother as their family watched on. Even upon their return to the high table Daeron seemed reluctant to part from her, a problem Rhaenyra fixed by simply pulling the boy into her lap. Laenor had already pulled Lucerys into his own embrace and the two princes seemed content in each others company, happily discussing all manners of conversation.

As the hour grew late and both boys tried to hide their yawns, Rhaenyra met Laenors gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. Many of the guest had already found their ways to their chambers, a welcome sight as it meant she herself could retire. Laenor squeezed his arms around Lukes torso, chin coming to rest atop of his sons head as quick fingers wriggled their way over his ribs. Lucerys yelped, squirming to avoid his fathers torment.

“I do believe it’s bed time for little dragons.” Rhaenyra snickered as Lucerys groaned at his fathers words, no doubt already forming reasons to stay up later as he opened his mouth to protest. “No complaints my little seahorse, I believe that your grandparents have already swept your brother and your cousins off to bed and you have stayed up much longer than we normally allow you to.”

Rhaenyra loved her husband dearly, even if it was not in the typical way one normally would love a husband. That love warmed her entire being as she sat there, watching as Laenor cajoled Luce into saying his goodbyes, her sweet boy extracting a promise from Daeron to introduce him to Tessarion and offering to introduce his uncle to his own mount in turn. Laenor simply adjusted his grip on his son, keeping ahold of him as he stood and left to where Rhaenys had led Baela and Rhaena, Corlys following close behind as he prodded both Aemond and Jace to go with them.

Harwin and Ser Rickard had followed behind them, both knights determined to see their charges to bed before the other guards would take up watch for the night. Qarl copied them as Laenor and Luke left, a hand resting upon the sword at his waist alert to any potential harm that could befall his charge as he trailed after them.

No doubt both of them would see the children to bed before sneaking off to the nursery. Rhaenys in particular had become especially fond of little Joffrey and took advantage of every opportunity to hold the little babe. Corlys had simply showered the babe with more giftsthann anyone would need, never mind a babe barely a moon old.

Rhaenyra let Daeron clamber off of her lap first, rising with a barely hidden wince as her body reminded her that she had given birth only a few weeks ago. With Joffrey’s birth being as difficult as it was and the following events, she had not had as much time to rest and recover as the maesters and midwifes would have liked her too. But the realm wouldn’t stop - couldn’t stop - just because  she was in some minor discomfort.

Waving off Ser Harrold with a soft smile when he stepped forward to steady her, Rhaenyra glanced over to where Alicent was and then back to where her young charge stood. Daeron had waited for her, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, eyes wide and pupils trembling as he watched Rhaenyra stand. His had brows knitted together, his forehead wrinkled as his gaze followed her hand when she winced and rubbed at her throbbing hip.

Rhaenyra followed his gaze, her own brows furrowing before she smoothed her face out and pushed at the wrinkles gathered above his brow. Daeron leapt back in surprise, batting her hand away before realising just who had prodded him. Rhaenyra let out a rather unladylike snort as she watched his expression cycle from worry to annoyance to embarrassed to sheepish. Daeron looked so much like his mother, his face making the same expression as Alicents had in their youth when she had done something she considered improper.

Pressing her fingers to her lips in an attempt to suppress a smile, she simply offered her hand to Daeron. Small fingers intertwined with her larger ones as they headed over to where Alicent now sat with both Helaena and Aegon. As they drew closer, the smell of wine invaded her senses and Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose at the odour.

It seemed that Aegon had managed to get his hands on some wine, even under his mother keen eye. Alicents lips were pursed as she wrangled her eldest, her only daughter watching quietly as she struggled. Ser Gwayne stood beside his young charge, hovering between keeping an eye on his niece or aiding his sister with his rather drunk nephew.

Both Alicents and Aegons sworn shields, Ser Criston and Ser Arryk, had been relieved of their duties before the feast on account of having stayed with their charges both through the night and the coronation. While household guards had been left to fill their places, none would dare presume to touch the prince and aid him to his chambers as one of the newly named Queensguard would have.

Gwayne bowed his head at their approach before his gaze returned back to his sister. Helaena perked up at their presence, seemingly eager to escape from the chaos their brother was causing. Rhaenyra just beckoned her over before turning to Gwayne.

“Alicent certainly seems to have her hands full.” She remarked, slightly surprised that Aegon had managed to get himself into such a state. Gwayne grimaced at her words, resignation flashing across his face before it returned to its previous concerned countenance. “I’ll take Daeron and Helaena to their chambers. Stay and help your sister and nephew, I’ll ensure that both of them are looked after for the night.”

The knights shoulders slumped in relief, his gratitude evident as he bowed to all three of them. Helaena slotted herself into Rhaenyras other side, a pale hand coming up to tangle itself in the Queens skirts while the other waved goodbye to her uncle, her brother quickly copying her. Alicent looked up when Gwayne approached her, a mix of relief and guilt evident when she realised that Rhaenyra had taken charge of both Helaena and Daeron.

Rhaenyra knew that the Dowager Queen had made a point of being there to tuck in her youngest ever since he had returned from Oldtown, a routine that continued up until last night when Aegon had refused to part from his mothers side. Rhaenyra met her old friends gaze, silently promising to care for both children that night.

The three siblings headed towards the back exit, flanked by both Ser Harrold and Ser Steffon as they traipsed towards the wing of Maegors Holdfast that housed the royal chambers. Daerons rooms were nearest, the siblings slipping through the door as both knights took up their posts at the door.

Two woman dressed in servants garb slipped into deep curtsies upon their entrance. They were obviously surprised to see Rhaenyra instead of Alicent, but the older woman was quick to introduce herself as Daerons nanny. She held what seemed to be Daerons nightshirt, having laid out the things he would need for bed in front of her. The younger woman was quick to finish to her task of turning down the boys bed before heading to the fireplace.

Rhaenyra called her over before she could do so, nudging Daeron over to his nanny so she could help him change out of his finery. Helaena had yet to let go of her sleeve, swaying slightly as her eyes drooped. Her younger sister had spent much of the walk here stifling her yawns and Rhaenyra had half expected to turn and find the young princess asleep on her feet. The newly crowned Queen doubted the girl would make it back to her own chambers and so she dispatched the maid with instruction to retrieve Helaena’s nightgown and anything else she may need and bring them here.

Daeron returned from the other room with his nanny, clad in his nightshirt while the older woman carried his fine clothing. Rhaenyra thanked her, impressed at how quickly she had gotten Daeron changed and glad that she could take care of his clothing. Rhaenyra was a mother to three boys now and she knew that the care of their clothing was often the last thing on their minds. Much of her ladies time was spent repairing small rips and tears in her boys clothing. Though such needlework was something for which Rhaenyra often found she had little time and even less patience for, she often found it relaxing to simply sit with her companions and go through her papers and correspondence.

Her mother had pressed into her the importance of surrounding herself with people of whom she both liked and was like by. Forging those connections with her companions, all ladies of noble birth, forged connections with their families that Rhaenyra could call upon in times of need.

The maid returned with Helaena’s things and the two disappeared into the other room while Rhaenyra lead Daeron over to where his nanny had laid out a selection of oils and combs. Both Helaena and Daeron had inherited their mothers curls and while Rhaenyras own hair held no such waves, a childhood spent with Alicent had taught her how to care for them.

Daeron sat as still as one could expect from a boy who had not even reach eight name days. His hair had been kept shorter than his brothers and it took Rhaenyra no time at all to both oil and braid it. The young prince scrambled away as soon as she was done, curling up atop his bed and allowing his sister to take his place.

Rhaenyra had heard many a rumour about her younger sister, whispers of her fascination with bugs and her odd mumblings had made their way through the Red Keep and to Rhaenyras ears. But the older girl hesitated not because of those cruel whispers spread by the nobles, but because of what had been whispered to her in the days after her sons birth.

Helaena did not liked to be touched, Alicent had told her. Rhaenyra got the feeling that it was a source of great hurt for Helaena’s mother, who she knew had struggled with motherhood in a way Rhaenyra had been grateful to avoid. Alicent had said that Helaena often rejected her touch as if it caused her pain and Rhaenyra was loathe to cause her sweet sister distress.

“It is all right, Sister.” Helaena’s eyes met Rhaenyra in the mirror before them, a knowing looking in her lilac eyes. Rhaenyra tilted her head at her words, raising her eyebrow in a silent question. Helaena simply gave her a dreamy smile before reaching for a small bottle and a large comb that the maid had brought back. “Can you use this?”

“Of course, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra tipped some of the oil into her hands, gathering Helaena’s long tresses spread the oil throughout. Helaena remained relaxed throughout and when Rhaenyra was sure she was in no discomfort, the Realms Delight turned her mind to other things.

“Now I’m not sure how your mother does things when she puts you to be bed, but when I’m putting my own boys to sleep I often tell them a story.” Behind the two sisters, Daeron perked up from where he had sprawled over his bed, eyes fluttering in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

“Can you tell us a story with knights in it? Like the tale of a glorious battle or quest?” Rhaenyra grinned at Daerons request, tying off the end of her sisters braid before guiding her over to the bed. Helaena perched on the other side, her wide eyes fixated on her elder sister

“Oh a prince after my own heart!” Rhaenyra beamed at the two, memories of the many times she had made a similar demand to whoever it was had the task of putting her to bed. She had spent many an evening falling asleep listening to such tales, curled up in her mothers embrace or leaning against her father while they sat at his models. “I have many such tales, but there is one that I do believe that you would be especially fond of.”

Daeron hurried to scramble into his turned down bed, eager eyes turning to his sisters as he waited impatiently for his story. Rhaenyra settled onto the edge of the bed, ensuring that the duvet covered him throughly and that he was perfectly comfortable before she started her story.

“Once upon a time, there was a fair and noble lady who lived in a high tower…”

Rhaenyra pulled the door to Daerons chambers shut slowly, careful not to wake the sleeping boy inside. Ser Harrold stepped forward at their appearance, beckoning Ser Stefan to stay at his post before following the two sisters.

Helaena had curled her fingers into Rhaenyra skirts again and while the elder woman was careful not to brush up against the young girl, she kept an eye on her as they headed towards her chambers. It was late and they had all been up since before dawn. Rhaenyra longed for the warmth of her bed but was determined to see her younger sister to bed.

Helaena had other ideas. The princess stopped suddenly, her previously drooping eyes now wide open and focused on the wall opposite them.

“Helaena?” Rhaenyra exchanged a look of concern with Ser Harrold before bending down next to the slight girl. “Honey what is it? What’s wrong?”

“She’s ready for me, Sister.” Rhaenyra brow furrowed in confusion, gaze darting around them as Ser Harrold moved closer to them, his hand going to his sword.

There was no one in the corridor but them.

“Who is ready for you Helaena? Who is she?” Rhaenyra knew that at times Helaena would say things that made no sense to anyone else but she had never known her to make up another person.

“She has grieved for so long.” Helaena continued to stare at the wall, but Rhaenyra was unsure if that was what her sister was actually looking at. “Her last bonded was her first and she grieved for her more than any other. But she is here and now she is ready.”

Bonded? What in the gods name was Helaena talking about? The only creatures who bonded to others were… dragons.

Realisation washed over Rhaenyra, curiosity clear as she studied Helaena. The far away gaze, her dreamy tone, the knowledge she could not express. Rhaenyra knew her history, knew her stories. If what she suspected was true, it would certainly explain a lot of her sisters somewhat odd behaviour.

“Helaena,” This time the younger met her elder sister eyes, but gaze was not far off anymore. This time it was almost pleading, as if begging Rhaenyra to believe her. “Helaena are you speaking of a dragon? Of your dragon? The one you believe you will claim?”

Helaena brightened at her words, nodding rapidly as her eyes gleamed with childish excitement. Rhaenyra couldn’t contain her smile at her sister glee, far too fond of the girl to ignore her happiness.

“Well then, it seems that tomorrow we will be taking a trip to the Dragonpit.” Rhaenyra had her suspicions on which dragon Helaena was referring to. While there was a couple of hatchlings in the Dragonpit, they were mostly taken to Dragonstone upon hatching and other then the dragons of those who lived in Kings Landing, there was only one dragon who had previously bonded with another.

“No!” Rhaenyra startled at the outburst, blinking rapidly as Helaena grabbed at her hands. Her grip was tight and her eyes were desperate. “I have to go now! If I go tomorrow then he will have to close an eye and she will no longer be ready! Please Sister, let us go tonight!”

“It’s the middle of the night Helaena, it’s not safe to go traipsing through the city right now. I’ll take you as soon as the sun rises, I promise you.” Rhaenyra tried to calm the girl down, but her words only seemed to make Helaena even more desperate. Her gaze had once again returned to the wall.

Rhaenyra followed her gaze, wondering what it was that fascinated her so much. Was it in the direction of the Dragonpit, where the dragon she spoke of made her den?

Helaena answered before Rhaenyra could even open her mouth to ask. The younger girl broke away, releasing her grip on Rhaenyra hands and scurrying to prod at the wall.

“I can show you how to get there without going through the city!” Behind the wall something clicked and Helaena stepped back as the stone moved, sliding across to reveal the passageway behind.

“Oh.” Rhaenyra whispered, understanding suddenly filling her as Ser Harrold rushed to put himself between the new opening and his charges.

“Your Golden Lady had missed you sister.” Helaena looked at her hopefully, eyes pleading as she stared at the shocked Queen. “You could not fly with her for a long time and now that you can she wishes to fly with you.”

Alicent would kill her if she took her daughter flying in the middle of the night to claim one of the oldest dragons in existance. The look of alarm on Ser Harrolds face told Rhaenyra exactly what he thought of this, the knight standing in front of the passageway as if hoping he could block it from their sight and their minds.

But Helaena stood there, her eyes pleading and Rhaenyra just couldn’t do it. She had only just started to bond with her sister, if she turned her down while the trust between them was still so fragile… would it survive?

(Would her relationship with Alicent survive?)

Gaze drifting between Helaena and Ser Harrold, between adventure and sensibility, Rhaenyra made her choice.

“Ok.” She said, holding out a piece of her dress for her sister to hold onto. “Lets go flying.”

Chapter Text

It seemed that becoming Queen had done little to temper Rhaenyras long standing penchant for mischief, nor her apparent desire to drive Ser Harrold into an early grave.

It had also had little success, much to Daemons amusement, in tempering the Dowager Queens own fury. While it took everything Laena had to not fall asleep on her husbands shoulder, the events of the days having taken their toll, Alicent seemed to face no such limitations. The elder woman had seemed to barely notice their arrival, giving a passing glance at their entrance before turning to question Ser Harrold.

Honestly, Laena admired how energetic Alicent was. Whereas she had been out of breath simply from rushing through the Keep to the main courtyard and now could barely keep her eyes open, Alicent had now now ceased her interrogation and returned to frantically pacing in front of the doors that lead to the main courtyard. The old knight seemed stuck between relief at the respite and concern for the harrowed woman, who had begun muttering to herself too low for anyone else to hear.

Admittedly, Laena probably would have been every bit as angry if she had entrusted her daughter to Rhaenyras care and had then been awoken in the middle of the night to the news that they had left both the Red Keep and their Kingsguard behind.

But Laena would trust Rhaenyra with her life, had already entrusted pieces of her heart to her. She had known since the moment her girls were born that Rhaenyra would protect them as her own simply because they were kin. She was not Alicent, for Laena had never held any reason, been given any cause, to suggest that her children were anything but loved by their aunt.

Arguably, Alicent should have even more trust in Rhaenyra than Laena, should be able to put her faith in not only the bonds of blood but the bonds of a shared childhood.

But the abrupt ending of that childhood had left its marks and Laena knew that it was not just the Dowager Queens childhood fear of dragons that was fuelling this fervent anger and worry.

The poison whispered in her ears had left deep, fearful wounds in Alicent, scars poised to split open again at any moment. Such long held fears, such horrific worries, they did not simply go away in a matter of weeks, no matter what words were said, what reassurances were given.

No matter what love was shared.

So, even though Laena held nothing but pride and happiness for her young cousin, for she knew what it was to have to claim the ability to soar through the skies after being denied such a thing in the cradle, she doubted the sight of both Dreamfyre and Syrax dancing through the moonlight had eased Alicents worry.

Laena breathed deeply as her gut churned, worry for the still healing relationship between the two queens making itself known.

The warm hand on her back began to move in small circles, her husbands face creasing in slight concern as he felt Laena slump further against him.

He got no opportunity to express his worry though, as the rooms collective attention was drawn by the sound of hinges creaking open.

While the two dragons dance throughout the air had not done much to ease Alicents worry, the sight of Rhaenyra guiding a beaming Helaena across the threshold of the Keep did.

Laena sighed in relief as she watched Alicents shoulders slump, her pacing and muttering finally coming to a stop. Relief sprawled itself across the widows face as she rushed forward, the black skirts of her mourning gown billowing as Alicennt sprinted to her daughter.

Laenas head had felt too heavy to hold up when they had sat down, finding comfort in tucking it into the crook of her husbands neck. Now, no such heaviness remained, banished by the apprehension on Rhaenyras face as Alicent came to a stop before them, pale hands reaching up to hover just over Helaenas face.

Daemon shifted as Laena made to move away, his grip around her waist tightening slightly before a warning glance from his wife encouraged him to let go, a pout firmly affixed to his face as Laena retreated from his embrace, taking with her the warmth that had been shielding him from the nighttime chill.

As she drew nearer, Laena could see the way Alicents hands trembled, could notice the beads of blood that had dried around her fingers and how she had wrung her hands until they were red and raw.

This close, she could see the stubbornness in Rhaenyra gaze, the slight lift of her chin as the newly crowned Queen readied her defence.

But Alicent paid Rhaenyra no mind, her gaze firmly affixed to her daughter as she fussed over the young girl, seemingly deaf to the reassurances Helaena gave. The younger princess gave no protest though, seemingly resigned to her fate as Alicent bundled her off. Hopefully to bed, considering the yawns Helaena was doing a poor of job of hiding. Even the rush of energy she had no doubt gained upon claiming Dreamfyre could only last so long and Laena could only hope that the girl was able to snatch some sleep before she had to face her mother’s wrath.

See Criston followed both mother and daughter and as the door swung shut behind Joffrey’s murderer, she could feel the tension drain out of her own shoulders.

Rhaenyra sighed, slumping as the events of the day finally hit her. Laenas smile was sympathetic as she slipped an arm around her cousins shoulders and let the older womans head slump upon her shoulder in a mimicry of Laena and Daemons previous embrace. Near silent footsteps signalled the approach of her husband and Laena turned her smile upon him as he took up position on Rhaenyras other side.

“You know, I was not much older than Aegon is now when Ser Harrold first swore his vows. But somehow, even after having known him and been under his protection for nearly a decade more then you, I have not caused nearly as many of those hairs in his beard to go grey as you, my dear queen.” Daemon grinned at both of them, seemingly unperturbed by the look of sheer annoyance Rhaenyra directed towards him.

Laena just rolled her eyes when his joyful gaze flickered to her. She had barely enough energy to properly focus on putting one foot in front of the other, let alone chastise or join in on her husband’s antics. 

“I would suggest keeping your mouth shut Daemon, before I make you regret opening it.” Laena couldn’t help the upwards twitch of her lips as Daemons grin grew even larger, a groan reverberating from her cousin as Rhaenyra realised her mistake.

“Oh really,” He drawled, his eyes sporting a glint that Laena had come to know meant trouble, “and just how would you go about doing that, little princess? Because I can certainly make some… suggestions.” Laena spared a moment of sympathy for the two Kingsguards following behind them, who she could only imagine were even more exasperated than she was.

“I am the Queen now, dear uncle. I am in need of a good many ambassadors to ensure our relations with the lords of the realm remain strong throughout this transition.” Rhaenyras face had twisted into a smirk at the sudden look of apprehension that Daemon now sported.

“Perhaps the North would appreciate a royal visit.” Rhaenyra burst into laughter at the betrayed look Daemon threw at Laena, but the woman in question barely registered it as Rhaenyra turned to throw a sly grin at Laena.

Laenas swallowed as their gazes caught, her mouth suddenly as dry as the deserts of Dorne. She had long considered Rhaenyras eyes to be her most striking feature, the purple eyes holding an enchanting allure that beckoned anyone caught in them to come closer. To witness the flames that Rhaenyra was made of. Like all dragons, that blazing fire could burn any she deemed unworthy.

But those flames also produced a warmth that would wrapped itself around those she loved, chasing away any hints of cold.

Laena always mourned the loss of that warmth, had found that over time it became increasingly difficult to drag herself away from its grasp, to submit herself to the cold grasp of the outside world without Rhaenyra by her side. There was a reason that when she had been pregnant with her daughters Laena had put her foot down and dragged her husband home from their travels in Essos. She didn’t think she would have made it through the cumbersome later stages without Rhaenyra calming warmth keeping her from ordering Vhagar to burn everything down.

Rhaenyra probably regretted stopping her before she gotten to Daemon, she thought idly. Finally, with a rather obviously smug look, Rhaenyra turned her alluring gaze back onto Daemon as he began to blurt out excuses as to why he couldn’t leave the keep and why he would make a horrid ambassador.

Laena exhaled harshly, determined to ignore the warmth invading her core. She had more pressing matters to attend to that particular bodily desire.

Like the desire to sleep.

By the time they reached Maegors Holdfast and parted ways with Rhaenyra, Daemon was half carrying his exhausted wife. As he laid her down on the bed and bent to take her boots off, Laena shifted to look at him through bleary eyes.

“I love you.” She whispered, reaching up to run her fingers along the side of Daemons face.

He smiled at her, a soft look he reserved for those he loved adorning his face. A hand reached up to cover her own and he turned slightly to press a kiss to the palm of her hand.

“I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra really needed to get someone to look at the structural integrity of the rooms above her own. She had counted over a hundred cracks just in the bit of ceiling above the bed she and Laenor now slept in.

Beside her Laenor snored, splayed across the bed and fast asleep. He had not woken when she had slipped into bed beside him, nor when she had tossed and turned the entire night, unable to slip into the blissful peace of sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, all Rhaenyra could see was the anger and fear on Alicents face when she and Helaena had walked through the doors. The way she had immediately pulled Helaena from Rhaenyras grasp, as if she could not be trusted to even be near her own sister.

As if Rhaenyra had just gone and proven all of Alicents worst fears true.

Which was ridiculous! Rhaenyra had just aided her sister in claiming the second oldest dragon in existence, one who was known for being extremely protective of her riders. If anything Rhaenyra had just gone and given Helaena the best possible guard one could ask for.

If Helaena married outside of their house and found herself at the mercy of a cruel husband, then Rhaenyra had no doubt Dreamfyre would eagerly repeat history and feast upon another one of her riders husbands. If anyone, including Rhaenyra and her own supporters, came for Helaena then they would find it much harder to harm her now.

But her frustration was overruled when a voice that sounded incredibly her mother reminded her that she had taken Helaena from the safety of the Keep in the middle of the night with no guard to venture into the home of creatures Alicent had long been fearful of. The voice also made the rather sensible argument that it probably didn’t matter to the other woman whether it was successful or not for she had not known the whereabouts of her daughter or whether she was safe for many an hour.

Glancing first at a still slumbering Laenor and then out the window where the suns rays were starting to peek over the horizon, Rhaenyra finally gave in and admitted that she would be getting no more sleep this morning.

Slipping out from the covers, the new queen slipped quietly out of her bedchamber and into her solar. One of her maids was already there, the young girl dropping into a deep curtsey upon her mistresses arrival. Rhaenyra sent her off with instructions to bring something to break her fast and someone to help her dress.

Settling into her favourite armchair, Rhaenyra mentally thanked Rhaenys and her suggestion to postpone the small council meeting to the afternoon. The council had simply been told it was so that they could properly enjoy the festivities last night and not worry about having to be presentable so early in the morning after yesterdays celebrations, an excuse they had readily accepted.

In reality it was so that Rhaenyra and her allies could meet and discuss their next moves.

Rhaenyra was not blind to her father’s flaws and that included the way he had blindly appointed men who had made clear their distaste for a woman holding any sort of power. She had thought that perhaps, when many of the council members had backed Arnold Arryn in his petition to claim the throne that belonged to her cousin Jeyne Arryn based purely on her sex, her father would open his eyes and appoint those who supported his choice of heir to his council.

He had not and now Rhaenyra had inherited a council of advisors she could not trust.

For all she knew, they had been involved in the plot to kidnap her brother. Laenor had left none of the would be kidnappers alive and while Rhaenyra could not find it in herself to regret their deaths, she did regret that they could not gain any information from them.

Rhaenyra was still pondering the issue when the main chamber door opened to allow two of her ladies in waiting and a group of her maids to enter. 

While the majority of the group headed towards Rhaenyras dressing room, the young girl who Rhaenyra had seen earlier drew near the queen. Within her hands she clutched a letter which she offered to her mistress.

Rhaenyra frowned as she took it, turning it over and sliding a finger over where the envelope had once been sealed shut. Why in all the gods name had it been opened before reaching her hands?

“Why has this been opened?” Rhaenyra kept her tone measured, her eyes steady as she studied the girls face for any sign of guilt or deceit.

“Ser Harold inspected it, Your Grace. To ensure there was no threat to you.” Rhaenyra softened at the answer, wincing in guilt as slight tremors betrayed the fright she had caused the girl.

“You have my thanks then, for delivering this safely to my hand.” Rhaenyra murmured, her keen eyes still studying the girl. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in my service before. Tell me, what is your name?”

“My name is Bethany, Your Majesty. I’ve just started in service to the kitchens but I was asked to give you this when I told them of you asking for breakfast.”

“Well then Bethany, I believe you have completed you task splendidly and I would not want to keep you from your duties for too long.” Bethany smiled shyly under her queens gaze, bobbing a curtesy as her mother had taught her before heading for the door, excited to tell the other kitchen maids of how she had spoken to the queen herself!

Chuckling slightly to herself, Rhaenyra scanned the letter quickly. A smile bloomed upon her face as she read its contents, once again wondering how her good mother always seemed to know when Rhaenyra needed her advice.

“Lara,” She called, summoning one of her most trusted maids. “Could you please let Princess Rhaenys know that I will join her as soon as I am ready? I believe she near her rooms, on the balcony that overlooks the gardens.”

Lara nodded, turning to leave the room as Rhaenyra finally stood from the rather comfortable armchair.

Her attendants worked quickly, lacing Rhaenyra into one of her more sensible dresses and braiding her hair out of her face. They were well practised, with many of them having been appointed into her service by Rhaenyras mother and they were well aware that their mistress would have no time for frivolity today nor the patience for an uncomfortable dress.

Especially not one that would hinder the blade she had strapped to her side every morning since her father had passed. Aegons blade sat nestled safely in its sheath, the secrets it held hidden from sight by simple leather.

The hallways of the Keep were quiet, the silence broken only by the clanking of Ser Harrolds armour. No doubt most of the court would be abed still and Rhaenyra relished in the quiet, knowing that soon it would be a rare commodity for her.

Rhaenys rose when Rhaenyra stepped out onto the balcony, dipping her head briefly before striding forward to tug the younger woman into an embrace. Rhaenyras own arms rose automatically and as she breathed in Rhaenys’s familiar scent, the tension she hadn’t even realised she was holding onto finally relaxed.

Rhaenys and Aemma had always worn the same perfume, an attempt by the isolated Arryn princess to emulate the elder cousin she had always looked up to. Now, years after her passing, its familiarity gave comfort to her daughter.

“You haven’t slept.” Rhaenys remarked, stepping back to take in her good daughter fully.

“The events of last night were not exactly beneficial to a good nights rest.” Rhaenyra huffed.

Rhaenys nodded slowly, a knowing look in her eye.

“Yes I heard of that. In fact it’s why I asked you here this morning.” Somewhere inside, Rhaenyra could hear a door opening and footsteps approaching. “I believe you need to have a rather long conversation about it, work through your thoughts and clear the air.”

Ser Harrolds armour clanked as he turned to hold open the balcony doors.

“A… conversation?” Rhaenyra questioned, unsure as to what the elder woman meant.

Soft footsteps halted as soon as they began and Rhaenyra heard a rather loud sigh.

“Yes. A conversation between you and Alicent will be most beneficial I believe.” Rhaenys finally let her hands fall away from where they had held onto Rhaenyra and the Queen finally turned to face the newcomer.

At least Alicent looked as confused as Rhaenyra felt.

“Later today, you will hold the first proper small council meeting since your father’s passing. I do not think I have to stress to the both of you how important it is to show a united front.” Rhaenyra was a woman grown, a mother thrice over and now a queen in her right and yet part of her still quailed in the face of disappointing her.

“So yes, you two will have a conversation. Whether it is about last night or the last decade I do not care. All that matters is that the both of you come out of said conversation ready and willing to work together to keep our family and the realm safe.” With that the Lady of the Tides withdrew inside, her own sworn protector being replaced by the Kingsguard who had followed Alicent.

At least it wasn’t Cole, Rhaenyra noted in relief.

For a moment the two queens just stood there, each one unwilling to break the silence. The only sounds were the birds flitting through the gardens below and the hustle and bustle of the city beyond the gates as the small folk readied themselves for the day.

Finally, Rhaenyra couldn’t stand the awkward silence anymore.

“How is Helaena?” Alicent wouldn’t meet her gaze, instead opting to focus on a birds nest not far from them. For a moment Rhaenyra thought she would ignore her, that she had angered Alicent to the point of rudeness.

But her fears were unfounded and Alicent finally turned to her look at her with a sigh.

“Sleeping, hopefully. After last nights,” here she paused, as if trying to find the right words, “excitement, I believe she will probably sleep late into the morning.”

“No doubt she will want to head straight to the Dragonpit.” Rhaenyra couldn’t help the wistfulness that invaded her voice, her own memories of bonding with Syrax springing to mind. “I remember how once I had felt what it was to take to the skies, I never wanted to come back down.”

Rhaenyra jolted at the quiet laugh Alicent let out, her eyes widening at the fondness evident in her eyes.

“I do remember many mornings and even more afternoons spent waiting for you to come back to earth and rejoin us mere mortals.” Alicent admitted, a small smile crossing her face as she reminisced on her own memories.

It didn’t remain for long though.

“I just never guessed I would be doing the same for my daughter!” Alicents tone was bitter

“Alicent…” Rhaenyra winced, unable to look Alicent in the eye as all of her fondness drained away and left only anger.

“I trusted you!” As Alicents voice grew louder, Rhaenyra could only be thankful that the early hour meant the gardens and surrounding rooms were empty.

No one else needed to witness this. Even the Kingsguard who had accompanied Alicent slipped inside, leaving only Ser Harrold to watch over them.

“I came to you! With my fears about your succession, with my worries about what would happen. I trusted you with my children!” Rhaenyra closed her eyes as Alicents voice broke and it became clear that the other woman was holding back tears.

“I know.” She whispered, her heart heavy. “I know.”

“Do you!” Alicent shrieked, her eyes incandescent with rage. “Do you know! Do you know what it took to trust you over my father! To put my children’s lives in your hands and be able to do nothing but hope that they would be safe! To be powerless to do anything to protect them!”

“Alicent, please… I didn’t mean to cause you or Helaena any harm.” Rhaenyra reached for her friend, silently begging for her to look at her with anything but that horrible anger. “I just wanted to help her!”

“Help her! Oh, you wanted to help her, did you! Wanted to help her by removing her from the Keep in the dead of night! By taking her through the city, alone, with no guard!” Alicent strode forward, her fists clenched as she stared Rhaenyra down. “Is that what you call help! You could have gotten her killed!”

“I helped her claim a dragon, Alicent!” Rhaenyra exploded, her guilt turning to anger at Alicents accusations. “I took her through passages I had transversed numerous times to the second most guarded place in Kings Landing to bond with a dragon who will now protect her for the rest of their lives!”

Rhaenyra turned away, turning her rings over and over again as she tried to calm herself down. “What I did last night just ensured that Helaena will be protected by something a thousand times more deadly all the knight in Westeros.”

The Queen turned back, her chin raised and her eyes blazing. “Helaena is a Targaryen and more than that she is my sister. I would sooner die than harm her.”

“You say she is your sister but you seem to forget that she is also my daughter. My child who I thought would be safe and secure in your care.” Alicent slumped into her seat, her gaze almost mournful as she stared down at her plate.

Rhaenyra slipped into the seat across from her, finding herself not knowing what to say.

“Is this what we are doomed to? Going back and forth, accusing each other of horrible things until we meet death?” Alicents fingers tore at the others and Rhaenyra could not resist the age old instinct to reach over and cover the slighter woman’s hands with her own.

There was a deep sorrow in both of their gazes when Alicent finally sought to meet Rhaenyras eyes. “Is this what our friendship, our love, has come to? Is this all it can be now?”

“Alicent please.” Rhaenyra was begging now, pleading for her to stop.

For her not to say it.

“Are we to just continue to tiptoe around each other, to never acknowledge what has happened? To never fully trust in one another not because we don’t want to but because we cannot?” Alicents voice was hollow and that was the final blow as wounds Rhaenyra had thought to be scarred over wept with sorrow and fear at the thought of losing her Alicent all over again.

Of never again having those beautiful brown eyes look at her and see only love and adoration.

“No.” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice hoarse. “No, I will not let it.”

“I don’t know if you can prevent this.” Alicent admitted.

“I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If I can’t prevent this then who can?” Rhaenyra stood, pacing along the length of the balcony.

Alicent just solemnly watched her, defeat heavy in her gaze.

“You and I have known each other for nearly our entire lives. I mean… Seven Hells Alicent,” Rhaenyra chuckled dryly, halting to stare out across the gardens. “You once knew me better than I knew myself.”

“I did.” Alicent whispered, her words barely audible. “But I don’t know if I do any longer.”

“I certainly don’t know you. I thought I did.” She said ruefully, shaking her head to disperse the memories that lurked, ever present in her consciousness. “I thought you trusted me.”

They weren’t talking about last night anymore.

“I did!” Alicent surged forwards, knocking her chair to the ground as she reached out to grasp at Rhaenyras hands. “I did trust you! But I am not you Rhaenyra! I could not go against my father and I certainly couldn’t go against yours!”

Rhaenyra huffed in disbelief, but she didn’t resist Alicents frantic grip.

“But I could have.” Rhaenyras amethyst eyes bore into Alicents, her gaze stormy as she spoke. “If you had trusted me, if you had told me what was happening, then I could have done something. But you didn’t.”

Tears sprang to Alicents eyes and she had to look away, unable to see the hurt written all over her companions face.

“You didn’t trust me to protect you, to stand by you and look where that has got us.” Rhaenyras heaved a sigh, rubbing a finger over the back of Alicents hands. “I know that I didn’t exactly make it easy for you to explain afterwards. But Alicent...”

“I know.” She muttered.

“If we are to survive this, if any of us are to survive this, then we must learn to trust each other again. We cannot be at odds with each other or it could doom us all.” Rhaenyra slid a hand out of Alicents grip, settling it onto the side of the other woman’s face. “You have to stand with me, for both of our children’s safety.”

Alicent nodded, leaning into the hand that caressed her face. They stood there in blissful silence for a moment, each soaking in the others presence.

Finally, Alicent spoke up.

“I think they broke us.” She admitted.

“Perhaps,” Rhaenyra sighed, bringing her forehead to rest upon Alicents. “But whatever they broke, we can fix.”

“We will fix it.” Alicent decided.

Rhaenyra smiled down at her. “Yeah, Ali. We will.”

The wounds the two had caused each other would not heal overnight. The rift caused by the machinations of those around them would not close due to a few conversations.

But it was a start. One that both of them would grab and hold onto with all their might.

For both refused to allow anyone to come between them again.

Chapter Text

Laenor had thought, had known, that Daemons marriage to his sister would most likely spell an end to the arrangement they had come to during their time in the Stepstones.

After all, Laenor had been sure that it had merely been a way for Daemon to blow off steam. That with no willing woman around, Daemon had turned to a man he knew would not expose him, who he knew was loyal to him simply because of the blood they shared.

Oh how wrong Laenor had been.

Laena had decided that they were to have lunch upon the balcony attached to her and Daemons chambers. The balcony was positioned so that they could watch the children playing in the gardens below them and so Laenor had thought it a splendid idea. He had been looking forward to spending some quiet time with his closest companions while being able to watch as his boys ran through the gardens with their cousins.

Now, sitting across from Rhaenyra and Laena and trying very desperately not squirm as Daemon ran his hand up and down his thigh, Laenor was rethinking that decision.

Rough fingers curled themselves around Laenors hips, warm breath sending shivers down his spine as Daemon settled his hand upon the younger mans waist and his chin upon his shoulder.

Laenor swallowed rapidly, fighting to keep his composure as Daemon shifted closer, moving to nuzzle against his ear as his fingers slipped into the gap between Laenors clothes and came to rest themselves lightly upon his hip.

Suddenly aware of how hard he was clutching at his fork, Laenor loosened his grip and chanced a glance at his wife and sister.

Considering the way they too were wrapped up in each other and the grins they flashed in his direction, Laenor deduced that there would be no rescue from either one of them. Nor would he be surprised if they had had a hand in organising this.

Laenors breath hitched as calloused fingers began trailed over his skin, eyes closing when Daemon dipped his hands to tease along the top of his pants before sweeping back up the Velaryons side.

Laenor bit back a groan at that, turning to glare at the older man. Images flashed through his head, half memory and half fantasy.

Daemon under him, fingers scrabbling to get a grip in the crumpled sheets as Laenor pressed his mouth to the other mans chest.

Laenor, crowding the older man against the tabled, a wicked grin across his face as he knelt before Daemon, fingers scrambling to unlace his pants.

Daemon twitched at the heat in Laenors eyes, his own gaze sinful and his own memories of their previous encounters at the forefront.

Damn it.

It was taking every bit of self control Laenor had not to simply throw the other man upon the table and give in to his obvious desires. Daemon would no doubt produce no protests, would even take glee in the resulting scandal it would cause.

This was dangerous. Their position was precarious, the eyes of the entire realm upon them.

One misstep, one tiny crack in their defences and the consequences would be monumental, even fatal.

Laenor needed to shut this down now.

He just really didn’t want to. Not with desire coursing through him, not with Daemon very obviously willing to provide.

Perhaps they could make their excuses and go flying before the small council met or sneak off to meet in the tunnels.

A sudden knock on the door had Daemon withdrawing and Laenor mourned the loss of his warmth for all of a moment before the door opened to reveal a crying Joffrey and a very apologetic nursemaid.

It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment that filled Laenor as he stood and moved to take his son, waving Rhaenyra to sit back down.

Joffreys nurse, a girl who couldn’t be more then a few years older than Aegon, was quick to hand the babe off to his father, standing nervously to the side as Laenor paced up and down the hallway, cooing and rocking the young prince gently.

Eventually, Joffrey settled enough that Laenor could turn his attention to  a reassuring smile at the obviously anxious girl. She had done the right thing in bringing the fussing babe to his parents, as the babe sought the warmth only another Valyrian could provide. Rhaenyra and Laenor had always made it clear to their children’s caretakers what should be done in these situations. Dragonriders ran hotter then normal and often their children craved it, seeking out their parents and the warmth others could not provide.

Still, it was no doubt extremely nerve wracking for the girl to come and interrupt the Queen and King. Laenor sent her off before her nerves overtook her, assuring her that he would bring his son back to the nursery in due time.

Laenor did not think he had ever been alone like this with Joffrey.

Rhaenyra had guarded her new son fiercely in the days after his birth. Her difficult labor had given rise to long held fears regarding childbirth, born of a childhood spent watching her siblings fade away in the days after their birth.

After that there had always been a nurse hovering in the corner, ready and waiting to swoop in if the infant prince showed any signs of needing to be fed or changed. Or one of the Kingsguard was present, assigned to watch over and protect the newest addition to the royal family.

Then Viserys had died and it became a struggle to find the time to even see the children once a day.

“You know,” Laenor muttered, stopping before a window that looked over the Dragonyard, “your brothers were born to be heirs.”

His father had already begun talking of preparing Luke for his future role, proposing that the young boy return with him when he left, to foster at Driftmark and learn the island he would one day be lord of.

“They will belong to their thrones, to their duties and to their people.”

Jace would soon be invested as Prince of Dragonstone and the Lord Paramount of the Crownlands and while it would fall to Laenor to rule for him until he became of age, the burden would be a heavy one upon his young shoulders.

“But you, Joffrey, you belong to no throne. You will simply be my son, not an heir.”

This son, Laenor got to keep.

Small Councils were the fucking worst.

Viserys had let himself be run by his council. The man had been a peacemaker who had lacked the desire or ability to make decisions that would put him in opposition with another.

As a result the lords of the council had been left mainly to their own devices, tempered only by Alicent and Rhaenyras efforts to curtail any attempts to take advantage of the Kings weakness. Laenor had be subject to many a rant regarding the council and their audacity, with each meeting leaving Rhaenyra frustrated and angry as she was so often undermined.

But now Viserys was dead and the daughter so many of them had dismissed sat in his place, flanked by not only her husband and uncle on her left but by the Dowager Queen and her goodmother, Princess Rhaenys to her right.

Each council member was confronted with the might of House Targaryen, each of them presented with a visceral reminder of who they served.

And as Laenor watched them file in from his seat to Rhaenyras left, he noted every move they made.

Every twitch, every look. Laenor took notice of all of them.

As he had expected, both Lord Strong and Lord Beesbury seemed genuine in their words of sorrow and congratulations. Still, it was good to see that the support they had offered Viserys upon naming Rhaenyra heir continued on past his death. There would be plenty of lords who would challenge her claim. She didn’t need to be worrying that those challenges would come from those she needed to trust as her closest advicers.

Laenor already knew who upon the council needed to go, who they knew would stick a knife in their backs the moment they could.

They were the ones filing in last, the ones who looked to be torn between nervousness and indignation.

They were right to be nervous, but they would not lose their positions just yet. After all, if Daemon was right in his suspicions then they would need them for a little longer.

They would be given the opportunity to provide one last service to the realm.

If they succeeded, then they could retire quietly with the gratitude of the crown and a generous award for their service.

If they failed, well then the realm had no need nor mercy for traitors.

“If you would all take your seats, we have much to get through today.” Rhaenyra watched them all, her face placid but eyes calculating as she took in the men who had served her father.

Who might serve her.

Laenor said nothing, even as many of their gazes flickered towards him before returning to his wife. Rhaenyra was perfectly capable of running the meeting without his input. His job would be to watch and observe all he could as the council debated.

His observations could very well decide their fates.

“Before we start, I want to thank you all.” Rhaenyra met each of the councils gazes, “This council served my father and the realm for a number of years and the Crown is grateful for that.”

Her words had an instantaneous effect. Laenor could see how Tyland Lannister puffed up at her praise and across from him Jasper Wylde straightened up, tugging at his surcoat to straighten it. Both Lord Beesbury and Lord Strong bowed their heads in acceptance. Meanwhile, Mellos leaned forward, his chains clanging together as he moved to speak.

“The Citadel has long been loyal servants to the Crown, aiming to ensure the pursuit of honour and tradition in every decision the Crown makes by providing the wisdom and knowledge that the men of our learned order have gathered. But…” The man hesitated, indecision evident in every facet of him.

“But?” Rhaenyra raised any eyebrow, her eyes stormy as she stared down the Grand Maester. “Do not hesitate to speak, Maester. The Crown will hear your concerns.”

“But as a woman, Your Grace is called by the Gods to answer to and obey your husband, to enter under his protection and bear and care for his children. To both fulfil your womanly duties as a wife and mother and fulfil the duties required of this realms ruler… well it would most certainly prove to be too big of a burden for a woman such as yourself to bear.” Silence followed the maesters words, the room waiting with bated breath for the Queens reaction.

Anger and indignation coursed through Laenors veins. How dare this man, this rodent question his wife like this!

“You forget yourself, Grand Maester.” The words came not from Rhaenyra, but from Rhaenys. The room turned its attention to the Queen Who Never Was and Laenor settled back into his chair with a smirk, anger turning to glee.

This would be good.

“When the Queen married my son, she swore no vow of obedience to him. She did not take his name. For she is a Targaryen and all Targaryens, both men and woman, retain our family name until death.” His mother’s voice was ice cold, her glare merciless as Mellos shrunk under her gaze. “She has done her duty and provided both the realm and her houses with three hale sons, each of them heirs to both the Iron and Driftwood thrones.”

“I think that you will find that my niece is no delicate maiden.” Daemon spoke, glaring at each and every member of the council. “She is the blood of the dragon and the fire that burns through her is stronger than any man here.”

“Who, pray tell, would take the throne if not me?” Rhaenyra finally cut in, eyes boring into Mellos. “My brother, Prince Aegon? A boy of ten and two who would require a regent to rule for him?”

Laenor could see Mellos gulp nervously, his mouth opening and closing as he failed to answer.

“Who, exactly, do you think would be his Regent?” Rhaenyra continued before the Grand Maester could answer, her fury obvious to all. “No! Let me tell you exactly who it would be, sitting the throne in his stead. For it would be either the next most senior member of House Targaryen, which would be myself, or Aegons mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent.”

Rhaenyra leaned forward, her fury written all over her face. “No matter whether my father had named my brother or I heir, it would still be a woman sitting at the head of this table today. Would still be a wife and a mother sitting upon the throne. And if you do not believe me? Then I invite you to ask my Lord Hand what he thinks. He has served my father as both Hand and the Master of Law for numerous years and I am sure that he can provide an expert opinion on this!”

Laenor had to give it to the man, for Lord Strong did not so much as flinch when every eye in the room turned to him. He simply cleared his throat and bowed his head to Rhaenyra before turning to survey the room.

“It would be my opinion that the Queen is correct in her assessment.” Laenor could see the surprise that flickered over Alicents face at the Hands words, before it smoothing into the courtly mask she was so adept as.

Had she not known this?

“When King Jaehaerys took the throne, the Regency was offered to his sister, Princess Rhaena as the most senior member of House Targaryen, and in a lesser capacity to Dowager Queen Alyssa. It was thought,” the Hand paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, “that as his mother, The Dowager Queen would be able to look out for the interests of her son while Princess Rhaena would ensure the presence of member of the Targaryen bloodline to sit the throne. Princess Rhaena chose to decline the Regency, for reasons unbeknown to myself, but the precedent still stands.”

“Is such an explanation sufficient to you, Maester?” Rhaenyras eyes were hard as she waited for an answer, her head held high as she stared down the table of men before her. “Or do you need further explanation of our histories? I rather thought that would be your area of expertise, but it seems I am wrong.”

Oh, if there was ever a woman Laenor could love as he had loved Joffrey, then it would be his beautiful, spectacular, intelligent wife and her cutting words.

“No, Your Grace.” Mellos looked as if he had swallowed a lemon, head bowed in disgrace. “There is no need for any further explanation. My apologies for the offence I caused.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra declared, leaning back into her chair. “Then we are able to move on to what I have actually called you all here for.”

Ah, finally. Laenor cast his gaze over the council again. This was what he was here for.

“Not a week before my coronation, three men were able to infiltrate the Keep and attempted to kidnap my brother, Prince Aegon.” That got a reaction. It seemed to jar most of the council, many of them alarmed that someone would have tried to kidnap a prince. But not all of them.

“It was only the actions of my husband, the King, that foiled this attempt. Unfortunately, all three brutes were killed and we were unable to extract any information from them as to who sent them or why and where they were taking the prince.” Laenor fought to keep his face neutral, but a quick glance at Daemon confirmed that he was not the only one who had seen it.

Most Mellos and Jasper Wylde had slumped slightly, their relief at Rhaenyras words evident.

Rhaenyra was lying, of course. One of the men had survived and was currently being held in the brig of one of the Velaryon ships. None of them had wanted to risk the man being discovered in the Black Cells and so Laenor had instead accompanied Daemon numerous times to the harbour. But while their interrogations had certainly proved fruitful, the word of a criminal would not be enough against the lords of the realm.

As such, a test was needed and a trap would be set.

“We do not think that Kings Landing is safe for Aegon.” Alicents words were soft, but strong and they captured the attention of the room immediately. “As such, after many discussions between the Queen, Prince Aegon and myself, we have made the decision to send him somewhere for safety. However, as a mother I need to consider every possible avenue when it comes to my son’s safety.”

“As such, I am asking this council for your opinions on where you think would be safest for Prince Aegon.” Rhaenyra held up a hand before anyone could speak. “We have already decided against the Reach, for fear that the enemy has already infiltrated it on account of it being where his mother’s family hails from.”

“A wise decision, Your Grace.” Spoke Lord Strong. “Especially as we do not know who is behind these attacks.”

“Indeed. In fact, my lords I must stress that information of the attempt on Prince Aegon does not leave this room.” Rhaenyra said firmly. “Nor can any information on where we will be sending him. We must not give this enemy another opportunity, for Prince Aegons sake. Am I understood?”

A round of muttered assents went around the room and Rhaenyra nodded, satisfied that they had been subsequently warned.

Laenor doubted that it would be listened to by all though.

But that was a matter for later and after Rhaenyra had dismissed the council a half hour later, tasking each member to create a report on the state of the realm in accordance with their positions and plans to meet with each one over the following days, Laenor could not help but slump into his chair.

“Small Councils fucking suck.” He grumbled, already feeling a headache coming on.

“That they do husband.” Rhaenyra agreed. “They really, really do.”

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra didn’t look up when Alicent walked into her office.

They matched, the dowager queen mused. Both of them dressed in pale blue, Rhaenyra wearing silver jewellery and herself gold. Rhaenyra looked like her mother, draped in Arryn blues with her hair loose around her.

It was fitting considering the news she brought, straight from the Rookery to her queens hand.

“Busy day?” Alicent asked softly, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth the worried crease in Rhaenyras brow. Her heart ached at the tired shadow that had drawn itself over the Queens face.

She’d been working too hard and eventually it would catch up with the younger woman.

“I met with each man of the council yesterday, to go over their reports.” Rhaenyra sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. She leaned back, meeting Alicents gaze.

“And?” Alicent raised an eyebrow, curious to know the results of their efforts.

“Pretty sure i’m going to have to get rid of at least three of them.” Rhaenyra admitted, huffing as she stared at the papers in front of her. “But the trap has been set. Now all we can do is wait and see what their next move will be.”

“Where did you say you would send him?” Alicent asked, moving across the room to the pitcher of wine the servants had left, raising a glass to Rhaenyra in askance.

Receiving a nod in return, Alicent busied herself with pouring two glasses as Rhaenyra finally removed herself from her writing desk and slumped into the cushioned settee, accepting her glass with thanks.

“Well, you know where they each suggested to send them.” Alicent nodded, the small council meeting from just two days ago clear in her mind.

“How could I forget?” She asked drily. “They were all so eager to have a prince at their homes that you had to rule out any of their own keeps.”

Rhaenyra laughed at that. It had made quite an amusing sight, watching each of them deflate slightly as she told them that a keep belonging to one of the council members was far too obvious for the kind of secrecy they wanted.

“Both Lord Strong and Lord Beesbury had good proposals thought.” She mused. “They were right that both Winterfell and Dragonstone would be good places to send Aegon.”

“They were the only ones who didn’t suggest their own keeps right off the bat,” Rhaenyra agreed, “even if they did offer them.”

“Grand Maester Mellos didn’t seem to heed your refusal to send him to the Reach particularly well.” Rhaenyra scowled at the reminder and Alicent could not help but agree with her.

Once, she would have thought her son perfectly safe within Oldtown, protected by the walls of the city and safely ensconced in the Hightower. But, now she had her doubts. Though Daeron had been tight lipped on his time as a ward there, what little he had let slip had her shaking in fury.

None of her children would be going anywhere near Oldtown if she could help it.

“Mellos is a cunt.” Rhaenyra scowled, her knuckles going white around her goblet. “If I was a betting woman I would put all my money on him being the Hightowers spy, a rat infesting the Keep.”

“I never did like him that much.” Alicent said idly. “He was also very dismissive of me during my pregnancies. Never quite able to hide his annoyance when I asked him questions. Wanted me to shut my mouth like a good little queen and not meddle in his affairs.”

“Like I said. He’s a cunt.” Rhaenyra kicked her feet up, rubbing at her neck as her face twisted in discomfort. “Wylde and Lannister are not much better either.”

“Wylde at least was somewhat sensible in suggesting Storms End.” Alicent mused. “Though I admit the thought of my son spending any amount of time with Borros Baratheon fills me with an incredible amount of horror.”

Rhaenyra snorted, no doubt remembering the last time Borros had come to court.

“How a man as good as Boremund produced someone like Borros I will never know.” Rhaenyra sighed. “Boremund is a man of honour and has sworn to me many times since my marriage tour that he will hold to his oaths. I have no such faith in his son.”

“If we sent Aegon to Storms End and something were to happen to Lord Boremund I have no doubt Borros would spirit Aegon away immediately.” Alicent sighed, tipping her head back against the cushions.

“That is something that Lord Wylde would certainly know about.” Rhaenyra smiled wryly at her, exasperation written all over her face. “Why my father appointed him I will never know. He is utterly insufferable, not to mention what he did to his poor wives.”

Alicent shuddered to think of the fate that had befallen the poor women unfortunate enough to be married to the notoriously demanding man. To be forced to birth children year after year until you were literally too exhausted to live was a horrifying prospect  and an even worse reality.

One she had narrowly avoided only due to her husband’s deteriorating condition.

“His suggestion was not as bad as Lannisters though.” She said, eager to drag her thoughts away from the path they had taken. “I mean really? To send a boy of ten and two who has a bond with a young and reckless dragon all the way to Essos? That just asking for trouble.”

“Indeed.” Rhaenyra hummed. “And it is much further from our own ring of influence, making it much easier for some one to snatch him.”

Alicent scoffed. That was not the only reason she despised the idea, though Rhaenyra had a point.

“Though,” the young queen continued, “I could always send him to stay with Aunt Saera. From what my agents in Essos tell me she has the influence to keep Aegon safe and no one would suspect us of sending him to her.”

“Absolutely not!” Alicent hissed, head twisting around to glare at her friend. “Your aunt runs several rather infamous brothels! Aegon already knows far too much about the inside of a brothel, I do not need him living in one!”

“I jest, Alicent.” Rhaenyra laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. “Though the idea of sending him to one of my aunts is not a bad idea.”

“Not one of my Targarean ones.” She added quickly, wary of the fury she could see building within Alicent. “But to my Arryn aunt, Lady Amanda. She frequents the Eerie but she actually lives in a small keep not far from it that my grandfather granted her. No one would expect me to send him there, not with the known… tensions between the Vale and well, you.”

Alicent sighed, setting down her goblet and taking out the original purpose of her visit. Smoothing the letter out, she handed it too Rhaenyra.

“That’s actually why I came to speak to you.” Rhaenyra took it, a look of curiosity coming over her. “A letter arrived, not only for you but for me as well.”

“For the both of us?” Rhaenyra queried, unfolding the letter.

“Yes. From Lady Jeyne Arryn.” Alicent bit back a smirk as Rhaenyra whipped around to stare at her in shock.

The Vale had been fiercely loyal to Queen Aemma and had not been pleased when Viserys had remarried so soon after she had died. They had especially disliked that he had married the daughter of Otto Hightower, who had spent many years undermining any of their representatives at court.

“I’m surprised,” Rhaenyra said slowly, “that she wrote to both of us.”

“You mean you’re surprised she wrote to me?” Alicent asked drily, arching an eyebrow at Rhaenyras sheepish expression. “It is alright Rhaenyra, I know that I am not well liked in the Vale and certainly not by your cousin or your aunt.”

“It is not you specifically that they dislike, it is simply…” Rhaenyra paused, searching for the right words. “It is simply that they do not like what you represent.”

“Nevertheless, Lady Arryn has written to the both of us.” Alicent declared. “And I believe you will be very interested in what she has to say.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra finally turned her attention back to the letter. Alicent unable to just sit and watch, turned her own attention to setting Rhaenyras desk to rights.

For a few moments, the room was filled only with the sounds of rustling paper as Alicent waited with bated breath on Rhaenyras reaction.

“Well, that makes some things a lot easier.” Rhaenyra finally put down the letter and Alicent let loose a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

“It does?” Brow furrowed, Alicent crossed the room to read the letter over Rhaenyras shoulder, wondering if perhaps she had given Rhaenyra the wrong letter.

“Indeed.” Rhaenyra went quiet, eyeing Alicent thoughtfully.

“What is it?” Alicent asked, resisting the urge to tear at her hands. There was no time for her to resort to her ever enticing unseemly habits, not with Aegon and the rest of her children’s fates so uncertain.

“Nothing.” Rhaenyra assured her. “I was simply thinking that it is a good thing I have not told any of the councillors that I would send Aegon to the Vale.”

“Oh.” Alicent tensed even more at that, still wary of the strange way Rhaenyra looked at her, the other woman’s brow furrowed as she studied the Dowager Queen.

“I told Beesbury and Strong that I was sending him to Gulltown.” Rhaenyra drained her cup and reached for the pitcher, ignoring the slight frown that came to Alicents lips. “It’s close to the Eeyrie so it makes sense for me to send my brother to my cousins lands.”

“And the Grand Maester? Lords Lannister and Wylde?” Alicent sipped at her own cup, worry squirming in her chest.

Rhaenyra smirked and Alicent fought the urge to shrink, some primal part of her screaming to run at the sight of Rhaenyras wine stained grin. The Queen looked as if she had torn out some beasts throat and Alicent was suddenly reminded that Rhaenyra rode a creature capable of destroying them all if she chose to.

“Why, they believe that I am sending Aegon to Dragonstone.”

Four hours later, Alicent is sat across a table from Laena Velaryon. The two of them sip delicately at their cups, each the perfect image of royal ladies. Someone who came upon them could be forgiven for thinking they were engaging in court gossip or perhaps discussing the next round of festivities that accompanied Rhaenyras coronation.

They could not be farther from the truth.

Alicent had remained in Rhaenyras office for most of the morning, helping the newly crowned queen sort through various letters and papers and confirming last minute details of the celebrations. While she had technically relinquished such responsibilities upon her husbands passing, Alicent had been more than happy to continue to take upon the duties of hostess.

Laenor had found himself increasingly charged with more and more duties, as he was now not only expected to complete the consorts duties, but also rule as his eldest son’s regent. The additional burden of dealing with the fallout of the attack upon Aegon had proved to be too much for any singular person and so Alicent had stepped up into the role once again.

It had proven to be a welcome distraction.

As had the numerous private teas and lunches that Alicent found herself invited to by not only Laena but also her mother, Princess Rhaenys.

“How are you holding up?” Laenas voice is soft, her eyes kind as she smiles comfortingly at her companion. The younger woman looked splendid in a gown of sea blue and green, though her silver curls lay loosely around her shoulders.

Headaches, the other woman had claimed. Apparently she had been plagued by them since returning to the Keep, some of them so bad they caused her to be so nauseous that she could not leave her chambers until late in the morning.

“Well enough, I suppose.” Alicent admitted. “Though I fear that may change when this plan is actually set into action.”

“It is never easy, to be separated from ones child.” Laena smiled sympathetically, reaching across the table to lay her hand over Alicents own. “But we must do what we need to do to keep them safe, even if it seems as if it will cleave us in two.”

“I will remember that for when Aegon is actually informed of this plan and sent on his way.” Alicent sighed, interlacing her fingers with Laenas in thanks. “He can be… volatile. Especially when he believes he is being punished, which he most definitely will see this as.”

“It is the blood of the dragon.” Laena assured her. “Mine own girls are like that, as are their father and myself. Our tempers run hot and bonding with a dragon, whether they be young or old, tends to exacerbate such moods.”

“Aemond is the least turbulent of my children.” Alicent mused. “I suppose that could be attributed to his lack of a dragon. Though,” She smiled wryly, “he does not lack in his attempts to rectify that.”

“So I’ve heard.” Laena hummed, leaning back in her chair. “The boy is only ten though. His dragon will come to him when both of them are ready, there is no rush.”

Alicent scoffed. “Tell that to Aemond, whose brothers and nephews all claimed dragons before they were yet five and whose eldest sister is the youngest dragon rider ever. Even Helaena has just claimed one of the biggest and oldest dragons in existence. He does not understand why he is left as the only one without a dragon or even an egg.”

“Well,” Laena frowned, “he is not the only one of his generation without a dragon. Rhaenas egg never hatched and she has never had the opportunity to claim another dragon.”

“Perhaps,” Alicent agreed, “but I doubt that your other daughter takes it upon herself to constantly tease and bully Rhaena about her lack of a dragon.”

“Ah.” Laena winced. “I take it Aegon and Aemond do not always get along?”

“That would be an understatement.” Alicent admitted. “I have tried my best to foster good relationships among my children, but I fear I have failed miserably.”

She sighed, copying Laena as she leaned back in her chair, unwilling to meet her companions eyes as she admitted her failings. She had never spoken on how hard she found motherhood, how much she struggled to raise her children. Had never been able to bear that shame to someone else.

“The fact that Aegon often drags his nephews into his pranks does not help either.” She muttered, a dark look flashing across her face as she remembered the tears streaming down Aemonds face when the Kingsguard had hauled him before her. How his hurt and devastation at the prank had been clear as day as he described how his brother and nephews had given him such hope, before cruelly yanking it away.

There was a part of her that wished to lay the blame squarely at the feet of Rhaenyras sons, that wished to close her eyes and ignore Aegons role in his brothers misery. But she could not. She knew how both Luke and Jace worshiped their eldest uncle and she had no doubt that it was Aegon who had been the ringleader in a majority of their pranks.

“I would not worry about it too much.” Laena assured her. “Siblings fight all the time. Gods know how many times Laenor and I had to be physically separated as we grew up. It was difficult for my parents to get us to see sense and they were and are both fully healthy and hale. I can only imagine it would be even more difficult to do when their father was so sick and you were not only raising them but also helping to manage the realm.”

“Viserys did what he could.” Alicent muttered, even now unwilling to admit to anyone but herself how much she had hated the man for how he had treated their children. “It was not easy for him to find much time to spend with them between the trials of ruling and his illness.”

Yet he always had time for Rhaenyra and her children.

“Still. It could not have been easy.” Laena smiled sympathetically, before swerving back to their previous topic of conversation. “Would you like me or Daemon to speak to Aemond? I myself did not claim Vhagar until I was ten and four and Daemon did not claim Caraxes until he was ten and six. We could talk to him, see if we can allay his concerns.”

“I would not wish to burden you.” Alicent said hastily. “You already have your own girls to worry about, I would not want to add to the stress.”

“Nonsense.” A gruff voice called from behind them. Laenas face lit up as Alicent turned to find Daemon standing in the door, clad in his riding leathers and smelling strongly of dragon.

“I would be more than happy to speak to my nephew.” The Rogue Prince claimed, settling himself next to his wife and helping himself to the sandwiches on her plate. He dodged as Laena swotted at him, turning instead to address Alicent. “I know my brother couldn’t often be there for his younger children, gods know he was horrible with Rhaenyra when she was their age. I would be more than happy to impart my wisdom onto my namesake of a nephew.”

“So long as your wisdom doesn’t result in my son absconding to Dragonstone to try his hand at bonding with the dragons there.” Alicent said, her eyes narrow as Daemon raised his hands in surrender. “Or,” she added, “doing something that will result in his constant exile.”

Laena choked on her sandwich as Daemon swelled up in indignation, but Alicent cut off his response with a demure smile. “After all, Aemond was named for his great uncle, Prince Aemon. I would hope he continues to emulate him, for he produced such a wonderful and dutiful line of descendants such as your wife. I would hate for any outside influences to cause my son to tarnish such a legacy.”

“I wouldn’t worry, dear Alicent.” Laena interjected, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’ll make sure my husband behaves. And,” She added, setting down her tea cup and standing to stretch. “I will certainly speak to him myself and also see if my mother will. After all, I would be remiss if I allowed my grandsires namesake to go on without knowing what he was like and my mother would not only be able to speak to Aemond on her father, but also on claiming an older dragon.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Alicent smiled, standing up herself as she reached over to take Laenas hand in her own. “You have my thanks, Laena. Not only for speaking to Aemond but also for speaking with me. Our talks have provided a much needed break from all that is happening and your advice is always astute.”

“The pleasure is all mine, dear Alicent.” Laena hummed, squeezing the hand grasping her own. “You are always most welcome in my chambers and my presence, whether for advice or for simple companionship.”

“I may just take you up on that.” Alicent smiled. “A good day to you both and many thanks.”

Chapter Text

“So you’re sending me away?” Rhaenyra winced at her brother’s question, his hurt clear as day even as he scowled in an effort to hide it. “Why? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

She could still see the tears that welled up in his eyes. Could see how his arms curled around himself as he tried to hide how they shook. Could see how his bottom lip trembled.

“Of course you haven’t done anything wrong, Aegon.” She sighed, moving to take his hands in her own. “It is others who have endangered you, who make this necessary.”

“So punish them!” He demanded. “Punish them and let me stay here.”

Rhaenyra smiled sadly, pushing Aegons curls out of his face. He looked up at her, pleading eyes glimmering with unshed tears and Rhaenyra could feel her heart breaking.

“I can’t.” She whispered and Aegons tears spilled over.

Swallowing back her own tears, Rhaenyra tugged the boy into her arms. He went easily, burying his face into her shoulder as his shoulders shook. Rhaenyra ignored the wet patch growing on her dress, rocking the boy slightly as she soothed his cries.

He was so young, she thought sadly, reaching a hand up to cup the back of his head. Too young for the pressure on him, for the dangers he faced.

She hated having to do this to him.

“Aegon.” She pulled back slightly, reaching up to brush his tears away. “I can’t let you stay here and I can’t punish those who are behind the attack. Not yet anyway.” She said firmly when he tried to protest, tightening her grip as he pulled away.

“But,” She cupped his face with both hands, pulling his gaze to hers. “I will do everything I can to bring you back as soon as I safely can.” Reaching up slightly, Rhaenyra pressed her lips to his forehead before setting her chin upon his head.

“I promise you Aegon. You will return home.” She could feel him heave a shaky sigh, sinking into her embrace once again.

“Ok.” He said simply. “I believe you.”

Rhaenyra smiled sadly as he pulled away, rubbing his own tears away. He accepted the cloth she held out with a muttered thanks, turning away as embarrassment finally took over him.

“So.” He swallowed, rubbing his hand over his eyes again. “Where am I to go?”

“My aunt on my mother’s side owns a small keep in the Vale.” Rhaenyra settled herself on the couch, motioning Aegon to the seat beside her. “She has agreed to take you in for as long as is needed. You will fly with Daemon and Laenor to Dragonstone and then Laenor will take you to Gulltown under the pretence of doing business for his father. From there you will be escorted to my aunt, the Lady Amanda. She will be the one to take care of you.”

Aegon nodded, looking down at his hands. Rhaenyra reached out to take one hand in her own, years of heading off his mother’s own destructive habits taking over. She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand, keeping her face gentle as Aegon absorbed her words.

He shook his head, turning to flash her a quick smile.

“It will be hard to hide that Sunfyre's flown over to Dragonstone and to the Vale.” Aegon rasped, shuffling closer to her. “Will we have to go at night or something?”

Rhaenyra winced.

“What?” Aegon frowned, scrambling to sit up when he caught her expression. “What is it?”

“Aegon, Sunfyre can’t go with you.” Rhaenyra said cautiously. “We need to keep him here to help throw the attackers off of your trail.”

Perhaps if Sunfyre was smaller or less eye catching he could go, but as it stood Sunfyre was one of the most recognisable dragons in the kingdom aside from Vhagar and her Syrax. Ever since Aegon had bonded with the small hatchling bards had sung tales of his beauty and tales had spread across the realm of the golden dragon that the eldest living son of King Viserys rode.

Whether it be the nobles in their keeps or the smallfolk in their taverns, whispers of how both of the kings heirs rode golden dragons had fuelled the idea that her family was closer to gods than to men. Rhaenyra had already fended off several attempts to limit her own flights for fear that Aegon's attackers would confuse Syrax for Sunfyre, had been forced to once again confine Syrax and Seasmoke to the Dragonpit in attempts to keep any from targeting them.

“How.” Aegon demanded, his face red in anger. “How does keeping Sunfyre chained in the pit and away from me throw them off?”

“Because he will not be chained in the pit.” Rhaenyra said simply. “Nor will any other dragon, except for perhaps the hatchlings too young and small to defend themselves.”

No longer would she bow to the Westerosi fear of their dragons, no longer would they be chained in darkness simply to settle the complaints of weak minded lords. So long as the dragon were kept well fed they would not go after the flocks, so long as their riders remained in Kings Landing they would stay close.

Sunfyre was yet young and still easily herded by the elder dragons. She had already informed Laena and Daemon of her plans, knew that Laenor and Seasmoke would be able to herd Sunfyre through the air as easily as Rhaenyra and Syrax did for Vermax and Arrax. If Aegon asked Sunfyre to stay, if he pressed the importance of it through their bond, then Sunfyre would stay.

Dragons cared little for politics but they were more than simple beasts many thought them to be. Her own Syrax was cunning and intelligent and Rhaenyra had long argued that the way her Golden Lady pitted Caraxes and Seasmoke against each other, both dragons competing for her attention as they sought to outdo each other by bringing her food and showing off, was Syrax's way of ensuring she would never go hungry.

(Laenor had laughed and joked that Syrax was simply copying her rider. Rhaenyra still felt justified for throwing the pillow that had knocked him off his chair.)

“He will follow me.” Aegon voice interrupted her musings, wide eyes staring up at her. “If I leave and he isn’t chained up he will follow me.”

“Not if you tell him not to.” Rhaenyra hummed, tucking Aegon into her side as she explained her plan.

“Sunfyre will trust you.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “He will miss you and you will miss him but eventually, when it is safe, you will reunite with him.”

“You promise?”

“I promise you Aegon. You will come home.”

It was no wonder her father had been afflicted with so many cuts from the throne, Rhaenyra mused. Viserys had been a man of comfort and indulgences and the Iron throne provided no such thing.

Rhaenyra found the discomfort strangely comforting. A reminder of sorts, of the burdens and responsibilities of the Crown. Of her duty to those she ruled over.

Even if their problems seemed to become pettier and pettier with each passing petition. Though, she supposed she had brought this particular one upon herself. After all, it was her idea to summon both the Blackwoods and the Brackens to court to hopefully reach some sort of truce between the two warring houses.

But her patience had its limits.

“Enough!” She interrupted, slightly smug to watch both the arguing lords immediately quiet down at her command. “This issue is obviously a bigger one than can be dealt with today. Lord Hand,” Lyonel straightened, bowing his head slightly to her in acknowledgement. “Organise for an investigation into the boundaries between the Bracken and Blackwood holdings. I am sure that there will be those who have lived there long enough to know. We will revisit the matter after.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I will see it done.” The Hand bowed his head and Rhaenyra looked to the two rival lords before her, both of them quick to bow and agree before moving aside so the next petitioner could take their place.

Rhaenyra blinked in surprise at the sight of her good father moving towards her, an older couple shuffling along behind him. Behind them the court murmured, curious as to why the father of the King Consort was coming before the throne instead of simply sorting it out privately with his good daughter.

Rhaenyra was curious as to the reason herself.

“Your Grace.” Corlys bowed, his companions quick to follow. “On behalf of both my companions and myself, I extend my thanks for your gracious hospitality  and humbly present myself before you in search of your fair and wise judgment.”

“Then speak, Lord Corlys, of the issue that has brought you here today.” Rhaenyra was quick to respond, the traditional greeting taught to all nobility as familiar as her own self by now. Leaning forward, she grasped the hilt of Blackfyre. The ancient sword of kings was prominent, sat by her side as it had each and every time she sat the throne. “Let us hear your concerns so that justice can be served.”

Daemon had joined both her and Laenor that morning as they had circled each other in the inner most courtyard of the Holdfast. His grip had been firm, his eye critical as he watched them spar. By the end, he had deemed to bestow upon her a proud smile. The lessons he had started all those years ago, weak in the face of his nieces demands, had not stopped upon his banishment.

It was because of him that Rhaenyra had realised it was possible to take matters into her own hands, to ensure that she would never be without the ability to protect herself. But it was Laenor who had ensured she would know how to wield the sword that was her inheritance. Who had made sure that she could wield the shield and the sword that men had always seen as symbols of power.

Though, if she was honest, she much preferred her daggers over her sword, her bow over her shield.

“I come before you today to seek justice on behalf of those sworn to my house.” The Seasnake stood tall, his every word clearly ringing throughout the hall. Behind him, his companions shifted uneasily at the attention of the court.

“And who is it that you come to seek justice for?” Rhaenyra arched a brow, flicking her gaze between both Corlys and the older couple.

There was something almost familiar about them.

“On behalf of Ser Joffrey Lonmouth and his remaining family, I seek justice for his brutal and unlawful death. I ask that the Crown render its justice upon his murderer, Ser Criston Cole.” Lord Corlys was unphased by the explosion his words caused, seemingly ignorant to the shocked whispers of the courtiers surrounding them. “I ask this not for myself, but so that his grieving parents are able to finally see justice done. So that Ser Joffrey, wherever he may be, can rest easy knowing that his murderer does not go unpunished.”

Rhaenyra leaned back in her seat, passive even in the face of the turmoil that had befallen the court. Below her, Laenor stiffened and curled his hand over his blade as all eyes turned to where the knight in question stood behind the Dowager Queen.

Laenor had wanted this for so long, Rhaenyra thought. Rhaenyra herself had wanted this for him. For Joffrey, who had never been anything but kind to her in the little time she had known him. But Alicent…

Alicent was already about to lose her son. To lose her sworn shield on top of that…

There was a lesson, one that both Daemon and Laenor had pressed upon her most incessantly.

The most important skill and the marker of a good swordsman - or swordswoman - was knowing when not to draw their blade.

A stern glance at her herald and the man banged his staff, the court quick to quiet down at his signal. Rhaenyra stood, clasping Blackfyre in front of her, carefully chosen words on the tip of her tongue.

She was cut off before she could even begin as Ser Cole scoffed, his face twisting in disgust while he stalked towards Corlys. His attention was not on the Lord of the Tides though, for it was drawn to the couple that stood bravely before the court.

“Ser Joffrey was a heretic and a degenerate who was undeserving to even be in the presence of honourable knights.” He spat, eyes blazing with righteous anger. “He dishonoured the gods and this noble court when he dared to even step into their presence."

Corlys simply glared in outrage at the raging man, motioning Joffreys parents behind him as the woman Rhaenyra presumed to be the fallen knights mother gasped in shock, her hand coming up to clasp her mouth in shock as her husband took hold of her. Though Cole did not seem to take any notice of their grief.

No, it seemed Cole was determined to strip Rhaenyra of any other route and damn himself to his fate.

“Step back, Ser Cole.” Rhaenyras voice rang out, struggling and failing to keep her own anger from showing. “You will get your chance to speak.”

Cole gave a strangled laugh, his gaze cold and mocking as he turned on her.

“Get a chance to speak?” He sneered, advancing towards her. “From you? You who spurns her duty at every turn. You are no queen! You are nothing more than a whore grasping for a power that has never been yours to claim!”

“Mind your tongue Cole!” Laenor snarled, putting himself in-between his wife and the murderer advancing on her. “What you are saying is treason!”

Rhaenyra tightened her grip on Blackfyre. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ser Harrold and Ser Rickard Thorne moving to put themselves between Cole and the rest of the royal family present. Swallowing her anxiety, Rhaenyra flicked her gaze across the room.

Cole had to know there was no way he was escaping this unpunished. He had said too much, had gone too far and now the law would demand that she give him the opportunity to choose between taking the black and the headsman block.

Somehow she doubted she would even get to present that choice.

“Treason!” Cole laughed hysterically. “It is not I who commits treason, Ser Laenor. It is you and your spoiled cunt of a wife who have! Your bitch of a wife has taken the throne, a throne which rightfully belongs to the kings eldest son!”

“You overstep, Ser!” Alicent called, her face tight with anger. She ignored the Kingsguards attempts to draw her back. “The line of succession has been settled for over a decade. King Viserys chose his eldest child as his heir and it is treason to question it.”

“How dare you!” Criston whirled on her, his face ugly with fury. “You claim to be so virtuous, to serve the realm as a follower of the Seven and yet you support the usurpation of your son’s birthright!”

Alicent raised her chin, eyes blazing with stubborn fury.

“Rhaenyra is the rightful queen.” She said, calm even as she faced down the rampaging man.

“She,” Cole said dangerously, “is nothing more than a brazen and spoiled cunt who has forsaken the gods and anything holy in her desperate quest for power.”

Turning to stare at her, a strange calm came over his face. Dread overtook her.

He wouldn’t dare.

“It is the duty of every sworn knight to remove from existence such an unholy abomination and if none of my sworn brothers can do it then I will!”

Before anyone could stop him, Cole drew his sword and lunged for the throne as the room descended into chaos.

Rhaenyra could hear people screaming as Laenor intercepted Cole, his own blade drawn. Vaguely she felt Ser Harrold grab her arm, attempting to tug her down the stairs and away from the fight.

Rhaenyra resisted, panic coursing through her when she lost sight of her husband as she was pulled away.

“Laenor.” She gasped, pushing at Ser Harrold. “Get Laenor.”

“You first, Your Grace.” Ser Harrold said grimly, pulling her behind him as they moved towards the side. Rhaenyra allowed him to guide her, still desperately trying to keep Laenor in her sights.

Laenor met Cole blow for blow, steel clashing as they fought. Neither gave any ground, neither faltered. Until, eventually, one did.

Cole grunted, eyes widening in surprise as he stumbled back from the force of Laenor's blow. Laenor shot forward, pressing his advantage. Cole couldn’t bring his blade up in time and the court held its breath as they watched Laenor's sword slice through Coles neck.

Rhaenyra watched, numb as his head bounced and then rolled to a stop in front of a wall of black.

Alicent slowly drew her gaze to Rhaenyras and then back down to the head at her feet before once again meeting each others eyes. The two woman stared numbly at each other as the death of a man once sworn to them both settled in.

Then, Alicent dared to gaze back down at the severed head once more. It proved to be an unwise decision, for once the Dowager Queens gaze found the grotesque sight again her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted before them all.

Someone started screaming after that.

Syrax was warm under her hands, gentle as she curled around her. Rhaenyra sighed, slumping as she pressed her forehead against the golden scales. The world drifted away as she basked in the warmth of her companion, of the creature with whom she shared part of her soul.

Syrax stirred at the sound of footsteps approaching and Rhaenyra groaned when they stopped at the entrance to Syrax's lair.

“It’s time, Rhaenyra.” Laenor called, hesitating at the threshold as Syrax curled tighter around her rider, smoke rising as her nostrils flared.

“I don’t want you to go.” She admitted, turning to look at him.

“I won’t be gone long.” He murmured, braving Syrax's wrath to come forward and wrap his arms around her. “A week maybe, two at the most. Laena and my mother will be here and so will our boys.” Brushing her hair away from where it had fallen out of her braid, he ducked to press his forehead to hers. “You wont be alone, my love.”

“I know.” She sighed. “But still…”

Laenor smiled sadly, needing no words to know what she was thinking. He knew how lonely she had been in those years following her mothers death, deprived of what remained of her family as the Velaryon's and the Arryn's withdrew from court after the insult that was her fathers second marriage and her uncle was banished again. How isolated she was as her closest friend was stolen from her.

How desperately she wished to never feel such loneliness again.

“Are you sure you can do this after the events of this morning?” She questioned. “We could delay for another day or so.”

“No, Nyra, we can’t. I am perfectly well and I would be almost ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that I was leaving.” Laenor quirked a smile, leaning down to press his cheek into her head. “You will be fine without me.”

“If you say so.” She answered, still unsure of her decision.

“I do say so. Now come on.” He tucked her arms into his, guiding her towards the entrance. “Let us say our goodbyes.”

Luke ran to them as soon as they appeared, his elder brother following him at a more sedate pace. When Luke rushed to cling to his father, Jace pulled him back and Rhaenyra had to force a smile upon her lips as the two of them bowed in greeting.

Oh how she wished to protect her boys from the throne, from the burdens that had been thrust upon them. Their age may protect them for now, may allow Laenor to act as Jaces regent and for Luke to remain with them, but it would not be so for very long. Rhaenyra had only a few more years before she would have to send Jace to his seat at Dragonstone, before Luke would have to go to Driftmark to learn at his grandsires knee.

She had known since their births that they would belong to the realm before they belonged to her, but she thought she would have more time.

Beside her, Laenor shifted uneasily and Rhaenyra squeezed his arm reassuringly. Her husband was still getting used to the constant formalities now afforded to him and she knew how deeply unsettling he found it coming from their own children.

Stepping forward, Laenor swept their boys into his arms. Rhaenyra smiled and brushed a hand over his back as she continued on, beckoning the nanny that held Joffrey to bring him to his father as she moved past where Daemon was saying his goodbyes to his own girls. He had a tearful Rhaena wrapped in his arms, Baela huddling into her mother as she held back tears.

She doubted that even during their constant travels had the girls ever been separated from their father for this long.

Past them, nearest to the entrance to the Dragonpit, Alicent fussed over her eldest. All of her siblings were there, Helaena hovering by Daerons side as the youngest of them looked to be holding back tears. Aemond stood seperate to them, his gaze locked onto where Caraxes and Seasmoke stood. Rhaenyra frowned as she caught the envy lurking behind his eyes and made a mental note to perhaps speak to the boy about it.

Helaenas words from the night of her coronation still lurked in the back of her mind.

“Are you ready?” Rhaenyra asked as she drew closer to where mother and son. Alicent swallowed at her approach, before reaching forward to tug her eldest into a fight embrace.

Aegon squawked as he was pulled forward, but his protests were half hearted as he buried his face into his mother’s shoulders. Rhaenyra looked away, instead turning to beckon her other siblings closer in an attempt to give the two some semblance of privacy.

Eventually Alicent released Aegon and stepped back, brushing away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Aegon copied her before turning to face his siblings.

“Say goodbye to your brothers, my darlings.” Alicent smiled wetly, pushing Aegon forward.

Daeron was the first to move, rushing forward to throw his arms around his eldest brother. Rhaenyra ducked her head as Aegon automatically wrapped his arms around his youngest brother, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop her tears from fall when she saw Daeron shoulders start to shake as he begged his older brother not to go.

Aegon, to his credit, did everything he could to calm his brother down, whispering promises to write all about his adventures and to return as soon as he could. Eventually though, Alicent had to step in and pry Daeron away from his brother, clutching her youngest to her as she attempted to hold back her own tears.

Helaena made no move to hug her brother, simply reaching out to grab at his hand. Rhaenyra couldn’t hear what she said, but Aegon nodded solemnly at her words even as his face twisted in confusion. When they pulled away, Rhaenyra could see Aegons hand twisting in his flying leathers. Upon his sleeves, golden thread formed a dragon that bore a remarkable resemblance to Sunfyre. They had been a gift from Helaena, or so Rhaenyra had been told.

Aemond made no move to hug his brother, simply staring at him. Aegon smirked a bit before reaching out to flick his ear in a move that made Aemond squawk and attempt to scurry away from his brother. Aegon gave him no such mercy though, capturing him in a headlock that only ended when he extracted a promise from Aemond to ensure that Sunfyre was well looked after.

Upon his release, Aemond proceeded to pinch Aegon, dancing out of the way when Aegon again lunged at him and hiding behind an amused Helaena.

Then it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rhaenyra was momentarily surprised when Aegon wrapped her in a fierce hug, but regained her senses quickly enough to return it with a strong embrace of her own.

“Look after them for me?” He whispered.

“Always, valonquar. Always.” She whispered back, squeezing him even tighter before letting go.

Jace and Luke waited impatiently while she and Laenor said their goodbyes, tucking themselves under her arms as soon as their father stepped back. Laenor simply chuckled, ruffling their hair before gesturing Aegon forward. He would ride on with Laenor on Seasmoke, in hopes that the scales the dragon was so aptly named for would blend right in with the cloudy night sky and disguise that he had another rider.

Daemon walked over as Laenor coached Aegon onto Seasmoke back, smoothing a hand over her boys hair before turning to look at her.

“Come back safely, Kepus.” She whispered, the High Valyrian slipping smoothly from her mouth. “I shall need your sword and your shield in the upcoming trials.”

“So you shall have it.” He promised, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “I will be back as soon as I can.”

Alicent and Laena moved to stand at her sides, their own children tucked into them as Seasmoke took flight.

Caraxes soon followed and Rhaenyra sighed as the children yelled their final goodbyes.

As they moved back to the wheelhouses, Laena took her hand. She squeezed it tightly as Alicent linked their arms on her other side, Daeron still tucked into her.

Rhaenyra breathed, tilting her head back to watch as her family flew off.

They would be alright and soon they would be together again.

Probably.

Chapter Text

Weapons were like clothes, Helaena had decided. Many of them made her recoil at the slightest touch, her skin itching at the weight of them in her hand.

But just like fabrics, some weapons did not cause such an adverse reaction in her. Some of them were nice, she decided as she turned the knife over in her hands. A comforting weight, an avenue of independence from the stifling expectations that came with being a princess.

Helaena would never be like the Targaryen warriors of old. History would not remember her for being fierce like Visenya had been, the queen who went to such great lengths to protect her family. Nor would any ballads be sung remembering Dreamfyres second rider being as bold as Rhaena, the queen who had stood against tyranny even as her family fell apart around her.

Rhaenyra would be remembered for those feats and more, of that Helaena was sure. But Helaena could never dare to be as they were, did not have the courage to stray even further from what was expected of her. But perhaps she could be like Daenys, whose dreams had saved her family. Maybe she could be like Rhaenys, the woman who had carved her brother’s warning into her own blade so that it would not be lost to time. Someone who her family could go to for advice. Someone they listened to, who they understood.

Helaena hummed as she turned the knife over again. Her sisters sworn shield had produced it after her third week of training with him, her uncle Gwayne grinning at his side as they presented it to her.

Ser Harwins sisters were quite fond of the particular type of knife, he had claimed. The knight had shown her how to unfold it, but his sisters would be teaching her how to use it properly when they arrived in the capital. While many lords fled the heat of the capital, droves of noble lady’s remained, eager to gain royal favour by aiding in the newly opened women’s courts. Helaena’s mother had spent every spare moment she had with Lady Laena as they worked to manage them all, running ragged as they oversaw the additions to each royal women’s household while also organising the reinstatement of one of Queen Alysannes most famous works.

Even if it meant that she did not see her mother nearly as often, Helaena was just glad that the implementation of Laena, Rhaena and Baelas households had kept Alicent too distracted to implement much change in Helaenas own. Her grandfather had been insistent in his letters that Helaena dismiss her current maids in favour of daughters of the various nobles he was currying favour with. A princess should not be attended on by common maids he had claimed, especially one who would soon be married.

But those letters had stopped since Rhaenyras coronation, for it was no longer Alicents decision as for whom and when Helaena married. It was Rhaenyras prerogative now and Helaena was quite certain her sister would not make her marry anytime soon, considering her offer to marry her to Jace had come with a rather long betrothal.

She probably would not mind marriage to Jace she thought idly, tilting her head as she watched him spar with Aemond. He was generally a sweet boy, mean pranks with Aegon aside. He had never mocked her strange ways and had been one of the first to congratulate her after she had claimed Dreamfyre.

No it was not marriage to Jace that she would dislike, Helaena decided as Aemond knocked the younger prince to the ground. It was simply everything else that would come with being married to the future king. Helaena was not unaware of her reputation, for the cruel gossip of the courtiers was able to pierce even the dowager queens protective shield.

“Helaena?” Rhaenas voice drew her out of her thoughts as her cousin settled down beside her. The slight distance she left between them so that she would not brush against Helaena did not escape the princesses notice. Fondness rushed through her at how thoughtful the younger girl was, for while Rhaena was often eager to embrace the other children, she held back for Helaena.

“Oh are you finished?” Helaena asked, tilting her head so she could see where Lucerys stood next to her uncle. He had been practising archery with Rhaena and seemed to have taken to it much better than he did the sword.

“I am.” Rhaena folded her hands primly in front of her, tucking her legs under her as if she was wearing her usual skirts rather than her riding leathers. She sniffed haughtily, her voice travelling across the courtyard as she raised her nose in a rather accurate imitation of some of the court ladies. “I believe I’ve beaten Luke enough times now that he should have learnt his lesson.”

Rhaena held that pose for all of two beats before Luke’s cry of protest sounded out, prompting both girls to burst into giggles in the face of his offence.

Luke huffed, pouting at them as Daeron and Jace walked over, both boys hiding their snickering behind their hands. Behind the two princes, Baela tugged a seemingly apprehensive Aemond along with her. She only let go once she had dragged him into their little gaggle of children, marching over to seat herself on the other side of Helaena.

Aemond hovered on the edge, obviously unsure of whether he was welcome or not. Helaena fidgeted, eyes wide as she tried to figure out what the other children would do. Jace and Luke had been nothing but friendly during their other training sessions, with Aegons absence seeming to have put an end to any unfriendly teasing, but this was the first time Aemond had joined them after instead of slinking off before they could notice.

Luke had none of his uncle’s apprehension though and Aemond startled slightly when the younger boy marched over and grabbed his arm. Taking no notice of his uncle’s bewilderment, the Velaryon heir huffed as he pointedly turned his back to the rest.

“You’re my favourite now, Aemond.” Luke informed the older boy seriously, ignoring the mock cries of offence from Rhaena and Jace. “That means you can have my biscuit at dinners and help me convince mother to let Arrax stay in the Keep courtyard.”

Aemond blinked down at his nephew, his confusion clear as Luke remained glued to his side, rambling on as they walked back to their chambers. Helaena just smiled beatifically when he shot her a desperate look, ignoring his silent pleas for help as her maids ushered her into her rooms and towards the mercifully steaming tub they had prepared.

Lunch was held outside that day, with both Princess Rhaenys and Lady Laena joining them. Helaena curtsied properly to both of the elder woman, who each returned it with fond smiles as the rest of the children followed her with similar formal greetings.

“Such polite young princes and princesses.” Rhaenys remarked as they sat down, Valyrian falling smoothly from her lips with an ease that Helaena envied. Luke and Jace claimed the seats on either side of her, though not before both boys had dashed forward to give her a quick embrace. “You must have been listening intently in your etiquette lessons. Tell me, whose influence is it that has caused my grandchildren to develop manners in the past few weeks? Aemond or Helaena?”

Helaena ducked her head, raising a hand to her mouth to try and hide her giggles as said grandchildren burst out in a strange amalgamation of Valyrian and Common as they stoutly defended their honour. Meanwhile, Aemond blushed at the Targaryen matriarch’s words, bowing his head as he attempted to hide the red creeping over his cheeks.

“Even your Valyrian has improved!” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, impassive in the face of her grandchildren’s pouts. “Why, if your parents had known that Helaena and Aemonds presence in your lessons would cause such an improvement then they  would most certainly have put you together moons ago.”

“In their defence, Muna,” Laena interjected, her eyes dancing with amusement. “It’s not like the boys have had the greatest of examples, for they are unfortunately my brother’s children and I’m afraid not even dear Rhaenyras influence can fully overcome the Velaryon distaste for proper manners.”

“I do not believe you have a leg to stand on Laena.” Rhaenys replied primly, arching a stern brow at Luke when he tried to refuse the vegetables being spooned onto his plate. The boy grinned sheepishly, pulling his hand back to his side and letting the maid continue. “After all, it wasn’t exactly proper manners to run off with the man who had just killed your betrothed.”

“Mother!” Laena gaped at the elder woman, looking scandalised at her words.

Helaena hummed, letting the friendly bickering wash over her as she picked at her food. It was simple fare, some meats and cheese along with Luke’s hated vegetables. Tala, who was Helaenas favourite of her mother handmaidens purely because of her silent understanding, was quick to slide an extra plate in front of her.

Helaena smiled in thanks, though she was far more focused on listening to Baela ramble on excitedly about how her mother had agreed to commission her new dresses.

“They are the same style as Aunt Rhaenyras coronation dress.” Baela explained, her eyes bright. “Though,” She added, pouting in Laenas direction. “Mother says that I can wear them to my lessons, but not at court or to feasts.”

Laena groaned, shaking her head as Princess Rhaenys sighed, settling a fondly exasperated look on her eldest granddaughter. Baelas pout didn’t falter under her grandmothers admonition, though the younger girl was quick to straighten up.

“How we present ourselves before the royal court holds a very different weight than how we present ourselves in our private doings.” The elder woman stated, her words directed towards them all. “There are certain expectations and conventions we must uphold, even if we don’t like them.”

“But,” Helaenas words were hesitant, but she pushed forward even as the tables attention was drawn to her. “Nyra wore it to her coronation and surely that would be considered a formal setting? Why would Baela not be able to do the same?”

“True, but you must consider the point that Rhaenyra was making.” Rhaenys replied, setting her life and fork down as she settled back into her seat. “Tell me children, what kind of message do you think she was trying to send?”

“That’s she’s a Targaryen?” Jace suggested, his brow furrowing as she looked towards his grandmother. “She was trying to showcase our heritage, to remind every one of the power that dragons give us.”

“In part, yes.” Rhaenys conceded. “But do you think that perhaps there was more to it?”

Jaces lips twisted but he said no more. Rhaenys glanced around the table, studying each of them throughly before her gaze settled on Rhaena.

Rhaena eyes were narrowed and Helaena could almost see her mind racing along, turning her thought over and over again. The younger girl was worrying at her lip in the way she only did when she was lost in her thoughts, too mindful of propriety to do so otherwise.

“Rhaena?” Rhaenys prompted, arching an eyebrow as her youngest granddaughters gaze snapped to meet her own. “Do you have anything to share?”

“I-“ Rhaena started, before stopping. She swallowed, ducking her head as she pushed her food around. “I’m probably wrong.”

“Maybe.” Rhaenys said. “Maybe not.”

“There isn’t really a wrong answer with this, my love.” Laena added. “It could be that you picked up on an entirely different meaning than us, one that we had not thought of but that members of the court have. It’s better for us to have many perspectives rather than just a few.”

“Well,” Rhaena said slowly, her lips twisting as she thought. “Aunt Rhaenyra is the first Queen to sit the Iron Throne through her own power.”

“She is the first Queen Regnant, yes.” Rhaenys confirmed.

“But most of the realm is governed by men and they think that men are more suited to ruling than women are.” Rhaena explained, leaning forward as her words came quicker. “Mother always says that the way we present ourselves has meaning and that is why we have to be so careful with how we dress, so that we do not send the wrong message.”

“Indeed.” Laena nodded, crossing her legs and settling back in her chair with a proud smile. “If you showed up to a duel in the house colours of one knight, then most would assume that you are declaring your support for them.”

“Right, and Grandmother said that Jace was correct when he said that Aunt Rhaenyra was trying to convey her power.” Rhaena waited until Laena nodded to continue, Valyrian coiling itself around her tongue. “But she wore both pants and a skirt, like how we would wear for riding.”

Rhaenas spoke Valyrian the best out of all of the royal children. Her words held little accent, and she was fluent in a way that spoke not only to a childhood spent mostly in Pentos and Driftmark but also of countless hours of practise.

Helaena suppressed the sudden rush of jealousy at the realisation that Rhaena would have had the opportunity to practise. Both of her parents were fluent and they so obviously adored their daughter. Helaenas own mother had sat in on some of their Valyrian lessons when they first started them, determined to learn the ancestral language of her husband and children. But as the Kings illness worsened, the Queen had grown increasingly burdened with her duties until it was rare that her children saw her for more than an hour at supper.

Helaena had a few memories of being lead by her nannies to the Kings chambers before bed. She thinks he had lifted her onto his lap, back before the rot had taken his arm. Viserys had shown her the great city he was recreating, letting her hold the stone models of dragons and people long lost to time. He had taught her how to say dragon in Valyrian and regaled her with stories from

when Valyria was glorious, his voice wistful as he spoke of their magic and might, of their dreamers and their dragons.

The nannies had stopped taking her not long after Jace was born.

“Rhaenyra was being crowned as only Kings have been but she isn’t a King. But she is ruling as one and so she had to show that she could be both?” Rhaenas voice was hesitant now, questioning as she looked between her mother and grandmother.

“Exactly, my dear.” Rhaenys smiled, reaching over to pat her hand. “The lords of this realm respect the crown because it is backed by both our dragons and by the sword and the shield. Rhaenyra has to show that she, as a woman, is still perfectly capable of wielding those symbols.”

“Is that why she sent Aegon away?” Jace asked. “Because he’s old enough to also wield those?”

“Of course that’s why.” Aemond scowled, glaring down at his plate. “She couldn’t have the biggest threat to her claim running around the Keep or the court might get ideas… ow! Daeron!”

Their younger brother met Aemonds glare with an unapologetic one of his own, with  Helaena joining him when Aemond turned to her. Aemond wilted under his siblings displeasure, rubbing at his leg and slouching in his seat with a muttered apology.

“Aegon got sent away for his own safety.” Rhaenys sighed, though she softened in the face of Aemonds obvious misery. “It is perfectly alright to miss your brother Aemond. In fact I would encourage you to, but you must be cautious. The walls of this keep have ears and unfortunately not even our private gatherings are safe from that.”

Her words landed on not only Aemond, but on each royal child. Solemn looks fell over each of them at the reminder.

Aegon would be kidnappers had breached the most inner sanctum of the Red Keep. If they could do that then who knew what else they could do?

“Words like yours can so easily be misconstrued.” Laena cut in, reaching over to grab ahold of Aemonds hand. “So we must simply be careful of where and how we say them.”

A murmur of agreement went around the table and both adults sat back, seemingly satisfied.

“Grandmother?” Lunch was nearly at its end when Jace piped up, his expression cautious as he looked towards his grandmother. “Do you know where mother is?”

“I believe she is currently with the Master of Coin.” Rhaenys set her tea cup down, settling back as the servants moved to clear the table. “After that I believe she is sitting the throne to hear petitions and then she has and audience with Lord Darklyn and is taking dinner with Lady Celtigar.”

“Oh.” Jaces shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes downcast.

Helaena bit her lip, eyes wide as she stared at her eldest nephew. Aegon had often scoffed about his desire to be the perfect prince for his mother, bemoaning how Jaces dedication to his lessons was second only to Aemonds.

He must miss his mother, she realised. Rhaenyras duties had doubled with her accession and while many noble children their age would be lucky to see their parents twice a week, Rhaenyra and Laenor had always been very attentive parents.

“Though.” Rhaenys said thoughtfully. “I do believe the Queen has a free afternoon tomorrow.”

“She does?” Jace perked up, his eyes hopeful.

“Indeed.” Rhaenys nodded. “She was hoping to take you flying, since Lucerys shall be with your grandfather.”

“Vermax can come as well!” The young Prince of Dragonstone gasped, his grin wide as he squirmed in his seat. “The dragon keepers say he is strong enough to do longer flights now!”

“I am sure your mother and Syrax could be convinced on that.” Laena interjected, her smile fond as she watched her nephew struggle to contain his excitement. “Though for now, I do believe you have to return to your lessons.”

Baela and Luke groaned, protesting as Ser Erryk and Lady Elinda stepped forward to usher each of them out of their seats. Rhaena just pressed a kiss to her mother and grandmothers cheeks before grabbing ahold of her sister as Jace did the same with Luke. Helaena followed behind them with her own brothers, suppressing her amusement as Luke lamented their fates.