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Chapter Text

Warning beforehand: Daemon will be rather unhinged in this story. To anyone but Rhaenyra, be warned. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. It won’t be so intense in the first few chapters (since I’m new to writing Dark Daemon), but I imagine it will become worse with more and more chapters. This story will not be for those who favor the Greens or the Velaryons, so again, don’t read it if you don’t like it.

I still hope some of you will like the story. Have a good time reading.

 
Rhaenyra never wished to spend time on Driftmark. It was a place she had no fond memories of. A place she hated with all her might. Nobody was on her side here. Everyone loved the Velaryons here, and she was simply Ser Laenor's wife. The wife of their future lord. Nobody acknowledged her as the heir to the throne or their future queen. All they cared about was the continuation of the Velaryon line. And oh, how much Rhaenyra hated all those who trusted that burden upon Laenor’s and her back.

Her cousin was perhaps the only person in the Velaryon family she did not despise. Her gentle cousin and his broken heart. He was forced into the union by his father. Same as she had been. Though none cared for their pain, neither Laenor nor she could get any time to relax. Everywhere they went, they were judged. Everything they did was judged. Nothing they ever did was good enough. The nobles at court whispered behind their backs. Either she was barren or Laenor was incapable of fathering children.

The gods knew how many times she tried asking her father for help. So that the King would put an end to those rumors and show he was on her side. But what did he do? Nothing. Her father was as oblivious as he always was. She loved Laenor as her cousin, but it was painful and uncomfortable to lay with him. So she avoided doing it. Months after their weeding, her moon blood still came, and half the court called her barren. As if it were her fault, her husband loved men and not women.

Nevertheless, none of them cared. Not even her own father. He just said they needed to try harder. How her blood boiled every time her father said that. Especially in front of his Hightower Queen and Hand. Both were obviously delighted that she had not been with child soon after her marriage. Her stepmother used every opportunity that she could get to humiliate and hurt her more. Once the Red Keep had been her home, now it was her prison. On his queen's recommendation, her father had forbidden her to spend much time with her beloved dragon, Syrax. The only being that could bring her comfort. Instead, she should concentrate on becoming pregnant and giving birth to the next heir. Was that all her father cared about? Another heir to his line? It seemed like she was nothing more than a pawn to him. A woman who mended his political headaches. A headache he himself created with snubbing Laena Velaryon for Alicent Hightower.

Not that it mattered any more. The Sea Snake had what he wanted. His son and heir was married to the Iron Thrones heir, and together with his wife (her cousin Rhaenys) and her father, the King, he pressured Laenor and her so much that they did their duty. (As he and the two older Targaryens called it.) They cared not about how painful it was for either of their children. All they cared about was that their name would continue on. Their blood on the throne. At least her first son bore the name Targaryen, not Velaryon.
They laid together as often as possible; however painful it was for them both, they endured it together. Laenor was the only person she could depend on. But even her cousin wasn’t a great help.

Frequently, he was drunk and not present. No one else was there to comfort her. Not her mother (how she wished her mother was still alive), not her father. He was too busy with his new family. Her half siblings Aegon (could the Hightower's ambitions be even more obvious?) and Helaena (her sweet sister) and his new wife. As well as Alicents for now youngest son, a few moons younger than her own sons. Who slowly but surely completely changed the keep. Now most Targaryen relicts were taken down and replaced by relicts of the Seven.

Rhaenyra herself cared not for the Seven Gods the Andals worshipped. She followed her house's traditions and prayed to the Fourteen Flames. That was why she did not condemn Laenor for being who he was. He was trying his best. Finally, after weeks of torture of laying with each other, the Maester confirmed that she was with child.

But instead of finally having peace, her life became even more of a living hell. Her father already had plans for her first child. Should it be a male, Rhaenyra would be able to raise him until he was ten years of age as her heir. Then her boy would be fostered somewhere. Most likely killed by the house that fostered him. Rhaenyra knew her father’s Hand had suggested that. Should her first child be a girl, it was agreed that her girl would be married to Aegon and be Queen after her. Without a doubt, her stepmother had suggested such a thing.

And both her good parents and her father were already talking about having more children while she was still right in the middle of her pregnancy. Her second child, should it be a boy, would be given to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys once he reached his sixth nameday. So he could become their ward and learn to become the next Lord of the Tides. Rhaenyra did not have the energy to protest at the time. And her husband's protests went unheard.

She tried to ignore them. But it was hard. The pregnancy was also hard. Many people murmured that the Crown Princess took after her mother. Hard pregnancies resulting in dead children. So different from her stepmother, who easily birthed two healthy children. But Rhaenyra knew her pregnancy was harder because half the castle was set on making her life a living hell.

The King even denied her the right to retreat to Dragonstone for her pregnancy. Of course, because his Queen and Hand said an heir should be born in the capital. It was more likely they wanted to poison her here or hoped she died in childbirth. But no, she lived; the few trustworthy attendances she had saved her life more than once.

Then the day of the birth came. Too soon. Two weeks too early. Her labours began in the middle of a Council meeting. At least she had been allowed to still attend the Council meetings. She had been rushed to her quarters, and dozens of Oldtowns Maesters fluttered around her. Trying to give her tonics, to easy the pain, they said. She refused each one. Rhaenyra imagined the whole castle hearing her screams and cries. (The Queen must have smiled in hopes of her former friend dying like her mother had.) Rhaenyra had cried for her mother and for her grandfather (the gentle man she missed so much and had only known for a short time). She cried and screamed for Daemon. Her uncle, who had betrayed her trust and run off with her good-sister.

She even cried for Laenor. Bless her husband's soul, he had come to her and thrown all the Maesters and midwives the Queen sent out of her rooms. She had been thankful to her cousin for that, but her relief had been short. Seconds later, the contractions began once again. For hours and hours, she fought to bring her child into the world. Then, finally, her babe came into the world. Already screaming.

Never in her life had she been more relieved as when her babes cries rang through the room. The midwife—one her mother had trusted and the only one that still remained at that time—had given her her child. A son. A dark, curly-haired boy. He had Laenor's curls and her mother’s eyes. But not their signature silvery or golden Targaryen hair. Instead, his hair resembled the shade of Baratheon hair more. She was crying with relief when she held her son. For the first time in months, she felt at peace.

But the gods were cruel, and moments after the midwife had laid her son into her arms, the pain in her stomach came back. First, all of them thought it was the afterbirth, but they had been wrong. It was another child. A boy as well. Unlike his brother, he did not come screaming into this world. No, he remained silent. Dread had filled Rhaenyra then. Pale as a ghost, she had asked the midwife or Laenor; she wasn’t sure any more what was happening. Demanding to know if her child was alive.

She still thanked the gods four months later. Her second boy was alive. He was smaller than his elder brother and weaker, but he still lived. The midwife had washed both her sons and given them into Rhaenyra’s arms. Her second son looked similar to her first son. Though he had only Targaryen eyes, her grandfather's eyes. His soft hair was like his brother, a shade of Baratheon brown or black with a few silvery strands. And her younger son had straight hair; her first had curly hair.

From the first moment Rhaenyra laid eyes on her children, she loved them. Everything she had gone through was worth it. Because now her precious children were with her. For a few wonderful moments, she forgot about the decisions her good-parents and father had come to without consulting her or Laenor. For a short while, she and Laenor could enjoy being parents to their boys and forget what torture it had been to conceive them.

The family had soon been interrupted by her father, stepmother, and good-parents. Of course, Alicent had looked disdainfully at her son’s hair. A simple "congratulations, stepdaughter” followed after. A title the Queen used as often as possible. Bless her father’s oblivious blindness; he just commented that they had their great-grandmother's hair. Her cousin Rhaenys had been indifferent when Laenor presented them with their sons.

At that moment, Rhaenyra knew. Her boys would never be loved by their grandmother. Simple because they had dark hair, which Rhaenys had also once upon a time; now she had silver hair as most Targaryens did. Her older cousin believed her sons to be bastards because she was aware of her son’s carnal taste.

She knew Rhaenys was jealous that Viserys still upheld her (his firstborn, his daughter) as heir to the Iron Throne. Unlike King Jaehaerys, who disinherited Rhaenys in favor of her father, Rhaenys was envious and showed it in every interaction with Rhaenyra. Corlys and Viserys, on the other hand, were delighted by the two boys, already making more plans for their future. Both had their heir now. Her firstborn as heir to Viserys (to herself), and her secondborn as heir to Driftmark.

The only time she felt satisfaction was when she saw the look on Corlys, Rhaenys, Alicent, and her father's faces when she and Laenor announced her children’s names. The two of them had discussed names in the privacy of their chambers. The only place where Rhaenyra felt relatively safe. They had debated about naming one of their future children, since they knew their parents would demand more spares, Joffrey. But both of them discarded the idea. Neither her father nor Lord Corlys would ever agree to that.
Instead, they settled for four names. Two boys names and two girls names. For boys, they decided on Baelon or Aerion. For the girls, Visenya or Daella. Two of these names for one of Rhaenyra’s grandparents, the other two for the famous warrior Queen, and the other for the father of the conquerors.

They had decided so to spite their parents. Because her father had suggested naming one of their children after himself or some other horrible name. And her good-father had recommended pure Velaryon names such as Jacaerys and Lucerys. Not that she disliked those choices, but she wanted to decide for herself how she named her children. Her good-mother had proposed Aemon for a boy, named after her own father, Laenor’s grandfather. And Jocelyn for a girl. However, neither Laenor nor Rhaenyra herself were happy with those suggestions.

She had announced to them that Laenor’s and her firstborn son would be called Aerion Targrayen. Aerion for the father of the three conquerors, and Targaryen because he was Rhaenyra’s heir. The third in line to the throne. Her good-father had wanted his last name to be Velaryon, at least until her son took the throne after her, but she and Laenor refused. It would be clear that her eldest would be her heir, thus named Targaryen.

Laenor announced their second son’s name. Baelon Velaryon. Named after her dead brother and grandfather. Her stepmother tried to protest both names since family traditions should be followed. Rhaenyra had only responded that Laenor and she had been following the naming traditions of House Targaryen. Whose blood was flowing the most through her son’s veins? They were only a quarter Velaryon and at least half Targaryen, she reminded everyone present. Which brought a scowl to Corlys, Rhaenys, and Alicent's faces. Especially to the Queens, because her rival had reminded her that her two sons’s heritage of Valyria blood was as pure, if not purer, than her own children’s. And that Rhaenyra had given birth to two boys in her first pregnancy, thus beating her stepmother.

After Laenor had noticed how tired and exhausted she was, he chased his parents, her father, and her stepmother out of her rooms. They denied their son’s grandparents request to spend time with them as long as Rhaenyra was sleeping. He refused them and ordered Rhaenyra’s loyal guards, Ser Steffon and Ser Erryk, to not let anyone inside without permission from the Crown Princess.
She had thanked Laenor for his effort and drifted off to sleep once she was sure her twin boys were safe and sound inside a cradle beside her bed. Laenor left her alone to collect the eggs they had looked at a few weeks ago. Originally, she wanted to have Baelon’s dark green egg for her child, but she decided against it when another egg caught her eye—a golden egg similar to what Daemon always described Syrax egg looked like. But they needed a second one. She let her husband decide the second one. So her sons now had companies with a golden and a blue egg.

Though neither egg had hatched yet, four months after their birth. Rhaenyra did not worry about it, since it was rare for dragons to hatch in the cradle of a Targaryen. She was the first since many years. All other Targaryens either claimed older dragons or, like Laenor, bonded with a hatchling. She was aware her stepmother used the not hatching of her twin sons eggs as ground for rumours that her sons were bastards. Despite the fact that none of her children’s eggs had hatched yet either. And they were four years her sons elder (in Aegon’s case) and two years their elder (in Helaena’s case). She doubted her half-siblings eggs would still hatch, they must have turned to stone already. But it did not matter for her at the moment.

Now she had to focus on not vomitting on the prospect of seeing her uncle Daemon and his wife, her cousin, and her good-sister Laena again. Laena informed her brother every month of how things were between Daemon and her. How they visited Penrose and Bravos. How wonderful Daemon was, how attentive. And so on.

Rhaenyra wasn’t sure if Laena was aware that Laenor often read her letters aloud to her in their chambers. She most likely did, and that was why she wrote such detailed descriptions. Laena has always been fascinated with the Rogue Prince. Now he was her husband. A dashing warrior and powerful dragonrider was the man she dreamed of. Though, as far as Rhaenyra knew, Laena thought she could become queen because her parents presented her to her father. His decision to marry Alicent must have hurt her pride.
Laenor had described his sister as a cunning, sometimes resentful, and petty person. Rhaenyra imagined that Laena was cruel enough to remind her every month that while she was stuck with Laenor, Laena had the man Rhaenyra would never get. Her first love, her uncle Daemon.

The man who left her in a brothel and nearly ruined her reputation, which in turn nearly got her disinherited.
Last month, her husband’s sister sent word that she and Daemon would return to Westeros. To celebrate on Driftmark. Because Lady Laena Velaryon was pregnant. With her uncle's child. Rhaenyra had not sent word to her uncle or her good-sister of her twin son's birth, but she was sure Lord Corlys or Princess Rhaenys had informed Laena already, who must have shared the news with Daemon.

Now she was back on Driftmark, where everyone celebrated Lady Laena’s pregnancy. As if the lady’s child would be Driftmark’s heir. Even though they already had an heir in her second son, Baelon Velaryon. No one cared that her son was Laenors true-born son, only because his hair was black. She knew her sons would be called bastards behind their backs because of the color of their hair. But she and Laenor knew the truth. Rhaenyra had not laid with anyone else. And after her encounter with Ser Criston, she gulped down moontea.

Carefully, she stepped off the ship with Aerion in her arms. Laenor was carrying Baelon. Laenor had asked her if she wanted to remain in the Red Keep with their sons, but she refused and said she would accompany him. To keep up appearances. Laenor had not been the best father in the months following their son’s birth. She often woke up to feed their sons, and it was she who saw to their other needs. Most nights, Laenor was out drinking at Flea Bottom with his male companions. At day, he was training or off; only the gods knew where.

She nearly stumbled when her feet touched the ground. Gods, she would fall with her son in her arms. But before she could truly fall, a strong pair of arms caught her and Aerion. "Rytsas, niece,"  a deep voice purred in her ear. Shocked, she looked up, straight into her uncle's violet-purple eyes.

Targaryens: 

King Viserys Targaryen (34)

Queen Alicent Hightower  (22)

Prince Aegon Targaryen (4 years old) 

Princess Helaena Targaryen (2 years old)

Queen Aemma Arryn Targaryen (dead)

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targrayen (18) - Syrax 

Ser Laenor Velaryon (21) - Seasmoke

Prince Aerion Targaryen (4 month old)

Prince Baelon Velaryon (4 month old)

Prince Daemon Targaryen (30) - Caraxes 

Velaryons:

Lord Corlys Velaryon (52)

Princess Rhaenys Velaryon Targaryen (38) - Meleys

Lady Laena Velaryon (22) - Vhagar 

To clarify in this story Laena is older than Laenor by a year. Alicent is four yeas older than Rhaenyra, same as Laena. 

Daemon is four years younger than Viserys who is also four years younger than Rhaenys. 

Edited 25/08/24

Chapter Text

Daemon knew he was an asshole. He wasn't a good man; every person he ever met knew that fairly well. And his family always knew he could be cruel if he wanted to. Which he wanted to be most of the time. So it remained a mystery to him why his wife did not seem to catch onto that in the two whole years they had been married. To be fair, he avoided her as much as possible. Preferring to drink with his friends in Pentos and Braavos. And he sated his hunger with one or two silver-haired whores. Of course, he was discreet enough for his wife not to know. Though he imagined she was intelligent enough to keep silent if she knew.

Even if she knew he cared less about her feelings, she was just another wife whom he did not choose. It was unfortunate that her fiancé had annoyed him enough and ended up dead by his hand. It was indeed unfortunate that the Sea Snake then demanded for him to marry his daughter. Not that he was surprised; Corlys Velaryon desired nothing more than power. And with his son married to the Iron Thrones heir and his daughter married to him, it was nearly guaranteed that his grandchildren would be dragon riders.
Though he imagined that only Laenor’s children with his niece would receive eggs in their cradles because they directly belonged to the royal line. They would be heirs to the Iron Throne. Laena’s children would only be distant royals. Even if his blood would flow through their veins. They would not receive eggs.

Eggs were everything his second wife seemed to be talking about these days. Dragoneggs and name suggestions. Such as Baelon. A name that he would not grant the child in his wife’s stomach. Because the name belonged first to his father, the Spring Prince, then to his nephew, Aemma’s last boy, and lastly to his niece's secondborn son. Baelon Velaryon, heir to the Driftwood Throne, third in line to the Iron Throne.

Even with Laena’s attempts to distract him from his niece’s pregnancy and later the news of her twin sons birth, he knew everything that was going on in Westeros. He had contacts and friends in many places, and he had spies in many households. Which meant nothing could get past him, never mind the efforts of his annoying wife and power-hungry good-father or his envious good-mother and cousin. They could try with all their might, but nothing would keep any news related to Rhaenyra from him.

That is why he knew of her twins and her pregnancy long before his wife was gracious enough to share the news her brother sent her in a letter. Laena Velaryon was nearly identical to her mother, Rhaenys. Both seemed to think they were better and cleverer than anyone else. Rhaenys did not even know her husband had been cheating on her for decades. He even had one or two bastards. Besides, she has always been jealous.

First of Daemon receiving one of their ancestral swords, then of Viserys being named the King's heir over her, and now finally of his niece. She was angry that Viserys still upheld his niece as his heir, even if that Hightower girl birthed him the boy he always dreamed of. As far as his sources told him, the Hand had attempted to change the King's mind about the succession many times. His Hightower queen as well. Both were denied. It was nice to see that, at least regarding that, his brother seemed to be determined.

Once upon a time, Daemon would have believed he did so because he believed in Rhaenyra’s ability to rule after him. In truth, it was just his guilt for killing Aemma and overlooking Rhaenyra for all these years. Daemon, on the other hand, saw his niece’s potential. She has a sharp tongue, true, but she was intelligent, learned quickly, and was headstrong. The opposite of his brother. Who was a weak-willed fool and a horrible ruler. He depended too much on others and was led by others. He did not make the decisions; his council did that for him.

According to his spies, Viserys was getting more oblivious by the month. He crippled his niece with his decision to still leave her as a cupbearer for years after her coronation as heir. Only recently did she gain a seat after her disastrous wedding. Instead of teaching her how to rule or govern a realm, he laid stones in her way every chance he got. He let the Hightowers reign free; from what he had heard, they gained more influence with each passing week. Now his brother's wife and good-father were even openly wearing green, the color the Hightower used to signal that they would be going to war.

All of that and many more signs were invisible to his brother. He loved Viserys truly. He was his elder brother after all, but even he, especially he, saw his flaws. He was not made for being king, but he still preferred his brother as king. With Rhaenys as Queen, the Targaryen Dynasty would have ended.

Once, Daemon would have thought the Sea Snake to be a less ambitious person, but he knew better now. Since the War of the Stepstones. Corlys was equal to Otto in his ambitions. Both wished for their blood on the throne. For Corlys, however, that would be more easily possible. Since his niece and Ser Laenor had twin sons.

Honestly, he had been surprised when his spies in Kingslanding had given him the news of Rhaenyra’s pregnancy. At first, he (like many others) believed she had slept with some other unknown man. A thought that made his blood boil with rage. After the news of the Velaryon twin boy's birth reached him, he had drunk so much until he passed out. For a few days, he continued. Because he believed his niece had found someone who gave her children, she would pass them off as Laenor’s children.

Laenor wasn’t interested in women. He loved men. Some men liked both women and men; others only liked men or women. Daemon, for example, preferred a warm cunt to any man. He still had fucked a few. He saw no shame in Laenor’s preferences. They were Valyrians; it was normal for them to some extent. But his cousin and her husband did not share the same sentiment. His cousin's husband, less even than Rhaenys.

Multiple times, he heard him say Laenor would just have to grow out of that phase. Only such preferences were not a phase someone could grow out of. So he had been more than surprised to learn his niece had only ever lain with Laenor. According to his spies in Laenor’s household, the married couple had been pressured by their parents and thus tortured themselves by laying with one another.
His spies informed him of the twin's appearance. Their resemblance to both parents. The oldest was said to have his cousin's Aemma’s eyes, and the second had his grandfather's and namesakes eyes. Daemon’s own father, Baelon the Brave, the Spring Prince. However, their hair resembled that of their Baratheon relatives. Similar to Lady Jocelyn Baratheon's hair color. Though the elder of the two had his father’s curls, the typical Velaryon curls, and the youngest displayed a few silver streaks in his hair.

Both boys received cradle eggs. One was his late nephew's egg; the second Baelon’s. The other was an egg from the first clutch Meleys had laid, only a few weeks after her rider's wedding. But he imagined they were not sired by her any known dragon. Most likely, Caraxes, or one of the wild dragons, was its sire.

Back then, four months ago, when he heard of his niece giving birth to another man's children, he was enraged. He had trashed his room and broken three of his loyal men’s jaws in training and a dozen training dummies as well. His wife had stupidly tried to distract him with her body, but he refused her at every turn. The only time he had laid with her so far was on their wedding night.

Of course, he was aware that Laena regularly wrote to her brother and lied with every word in her letters. They weren’t happy, and he wasn’t soft or attentive to her. Quite the opposite of what she had hoped him to be. He was cold and indifferent to her. True, he had killed her fiancé, but only because the idiot annoyed him so much. He imagined the Velaryon girl had somehow manipulated her fiancé to insult Daemon, thus forcing him to react.

Laena was so much like her mother; they could not endure the thought that something they wanted could not be theirs. For Rhaenys, it was the Iron Throne, which would belong to his niece someday; he would make sure of that. For Laena, it was that neither his heart nor his affection would ever belong to her. No, it belonged only to one woman.

His niece, Rhaenyra, the girl who had once been nothing more than a few days old the first time he held her. The same girl in whose cradle he sneaked a dragon egg. Which had hatched. The same girl who had loved him unconditionally. Who returned his love with equal intensity. He had been her favorite person since her early days. He had taught her how to speak High Valyrian and, later, how to ride a dragon. The same girl who had blossomed into a gorgeous woman in the years he had been away at war in the Stepstones. If only he had been a little more careful two years ago. Then her twin boys would have been his. His wife would not wear the name Laena Velaryon then.

He was deep in thought, staring out into the horizon, waiting for either a ship with the three-headed dragon banner or two dragons. He knew that Laena was trying to get his attention, but he just ignored her. Until she let out a disappointed whine and spoke quietly with her mother. Rhaenys, who had been over the moon when she was informed of her daughter’s pregnancy. His spies told him that she was thrilled by the prospect of true-born grandchildren from her Laena. How his cousin could still be so blind and ignorant of the obvious facts that the twins were legitimate and true-born sons of Laenor, he did not know. She must be influenced by her hatred for his niece. Rhaenys resented Rhaenyra for holding a title she could not.

He had nearly laughed hysterically when she greeted them with the words that she couldn’t wait to meet her grandchildren. As if she did not already have two grandchildren. Two boys, both four months old. Corlys, at least, was man enough to say he was excited to have more grandchildren. It seemed at least the Velaryon patriarch acknowledged that these boys could be nothing else but true-born.

Something he could not say about the child that grew in his so-called wife’s belly. He had only slept with her once. On their wedding night, to appease Corlys. Otherwise, he avoided her like she was a deadly illness. Every attempt by her to sleep with him had failed. And even if she managed to climb into his bed and tempt his drunken self, he always discreetly let her drink a tea that would prevent her from getting pregnant. He did not wish for her to bear his child. It was better to be on the safe side; he sometimes drank so much that he couldn’t recall anything that happened that night. He was sure even his drunken self wouldn’t sleep with Laena. Though in the last six months he had only come to the maison they lived in when she was already deeply asleep (and for extra precautions, he locked his door). Or he avoided her until she gave up.

Laena thought herself clever. She thought he would not notice the several lovers she invited into their rooms. But he did. Of course he did; a few of these men were even sent by him so that she would leave him alone as long as she was occupied. At least she was intelligent enough to take Lysene lovers who looked a bit Valyrian. But by far, not all her lovers were men with at least a few drops of Valyrian blood. Some were Dornish or of other ancestry.

She had tried to convince him that the child in her belly was his, but he knew that she knew that could not be possible. But he did not say anything; instead, he continued as before. He mostly ignored her, especially if she demanded something from him. He cared not if he hurt her feelings. She should have known better than to try to trick him.

Not that he had anything against a bastard. In fact, most of his friends and informants were bastards. But if Laena wanted to give birth to a bastard so badly, then she should have taken some other man as her husband. He would never give her true-born children. Because the arrogant Velaryon woman was not worth his seed. No, there was only one woman truly worthy of carrying his pure-blood Valyrian heirs.

Still, Laena’s mistake would help his plans. Without her knowledge, she made many things easier for him. For now, he was content with seeing her disappointment, Rhaenys silent anger (since she did not know that Daemon had only laid once with her daughter, two years ago), and Corlys knowing and worried gaze. Unlike his wife, the Sea Snake was very well aware of what was going on.

Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, Daemon spotted the black and red sails of a Targaryen ship. After what seemed like hours, he could also hear dragons roaring. A silver-grey, average-sized dragon. That was Seasmoke, Laenor’s dragon. He had come to know the young dragon while he and Laenor fought at the Stepstones. The second dragon was by far a more welcoming sight. A sight he had longed to see. A yellow, golden dragon came into view. A female dragon he knew like his own. Syrax the Golden Lady of his niece. But unlike Seasmoke, the she-dragon's saddle was empty of its rider. Rhaenyra wasn’t riding Syrax. Which was highly odd to him, but then he remembered Rhaenyra was now in possession of two children.

Seasmoke landed with a loud thud. Laenor dismounted, but instead of greeting his waiting parents and sister, he waited until the ship had docked in Driftmark Harbor. Then he hastily got on and emerged again with a child in his arms. Steps in front of him was Rhaenyra. Carrying a second bundle in her arms. His niece carefully stepped off the ship but stumbled with the last step. He registered that Laenor tried to reach for her, but the young man was too far away and holding a bundle himself.

Reacting fast, he caught his niece and her child before something serious could happen, much to the displeasure of both Rhaenys and Laena. But he ignored the two scowling women. He threw one of his arms around his niece, the other under her own arms, which supported the infant. "Rytsas, niece.", he purred lowly into her ear. Delighted when she shivered and goosebumps covered her neck. Rhaenyra snapped her head upward. Her purple eyes met his own violet-purple ones. While his eyes were a darker shade, his niece's eyes possessed a lighter and softer purple shade. He could lose himself in her deep eyes, but he snapped himself out of it quickly.

Rhaenyra stared at him for a moment and then nearly ripped herself away from his arms. She pressed the small infant to her breast as if she wanted to protect her babe from him. Her slightly tilted his head to the side and gazed over her. She was taller than she had been two years ago. Her body had come into her curves, and her breasts were larger. Most likely due to her feeding her twin boys herself. Something that a royal women rarely did. He knew, from reading his friends reports, that because of his niece's refusal to let the twins be fed by a wet nurse, she and her stepmother had gotten into an argument in her private chamber. Which had resulted in an angry Queen and Rhaenyra continuing to breastfeed her sons.

He knew he should not get hard by the thought of his niece feeding her sons, but he never claimed to be a good or noble man. But before he could keep fantasizing about his niece, he noted how pale her skin was. He had noticed that she was very light when he caught her a few moments ago. She should have weighed way more than two years ago, especially when she carried twins. Therefore, it worried him that she barely weighed more than the last time he had her in his arms. She was definitely not eating enough then. Something he would have to change soon. Otherwise, his niece could hurt herself.

"Rhaenyra, are you alright?” Laenor came over and touched her shoulder slightly. A gesture that made his niece flinch, but she hid it well enough that only Laenor or he could see. The younger man shallowed and looked apologetic, taking his hands off her skin instantly. “I’m fine, Laenor. Uncle Daemon caught me before anything could happen to our son or me,"  she answered, turning fully to face her husband, thus turning her back to him. Daemon gritted his teeth when he heard “our son." A reminder that the two sleeping babes were indeed Laenor's and Rhaenyra’s sons. And not Rhaenyra and his sons.

“Perhaps you would care to greet your parents and sister. All three of us have not seen you for quite some time.”, Rhaenys interfered before Laenor could answer Rhaenyra. “Laenor! I haven’t seen you in so long. You look wonderful!”, Laena exclaimed and flew into her brother's arms. Who managed to transfer the babe he was holding to Rhaenyra just in time before his sister flung herself into his embrace. His niece looked positively unhappy but remained silent. Daemon glared at Laena’s back for her recklessness. She could have hurt the four month old easily. Which he was sure she was very well aware of. 

“It’s good to see you, Laena. Welcome back to Westeros." the younger Velaryon sibling greeted his elder sister. “It is wonderful to be back home. To give birth in Driftmark, my children’s future home.”, Laena grinned, ignoring both her brother’s disappointed looks and Rhaenyra’s indifferent one. Of course, Rhaenys had filled her daughter’s head with the nonsense that Laena’s children would inherit Driftmark. Even though both of them knew that Rhaenyra’s boys were Laenor’s true-born sons. They just ignored it because Rhaenys desired the title to be passed down through Laena’s line. Which would not happen as long as Corlys was House Velaryons patriarch. And also not as long as Laenor remained alive. 

“How about we enter the castle. The air out here is cold today. I imagine it is not healthy for young babes to be out in the cold for long.”, Corlys attempted to safe the situation. But his niece was already looking sternly at her cousins, and her husband shook his head in disappointment. “That is a wonderful idea, Lord Corlys. Laenor will lead me and our sons to my chambers. We will see you later.”, Rhaenyra thanked the Lord and looked at Laenor who needed a few seconds to get the message. Smiling embarrassed, he lends his cousin-wife his arm and leads her inside the castle. 

Daemon would have loved to follow them, but he kept his desire to see his niece in check. He would wait for his chance to get his niece alone. After the dinner Lord Corlys ordered, it would be a good time. After the heavy food, Laena would be tired, and since Daemon would seem too deep into his cups, Rhaenys would accompany her daughter to her quarters. Which were far away from his own and those that would be Rhaenyra’s. Laenor's rooms, which he knew were also away from both his sisters and his wife’s room. He also was sure that Corlys would stop his son from retiring. Since he wanted to discuss the possibility of another grandchild. The power hungry man wanted more heirs from his son. Without a doubt, their discussion would take hours. 

Besides Rhaenys, Corlys and Laena knew of his habit of spending long hours in the library drinking and reading. Laena barely stepped foot into the library. Unlike him, the Velaryon Lady was not interested in their ancestors histories. She only cared that she was the rider of the largest dragon in the world. A dragon that once was bonded to the warrior Queen Visenya and his father Baelon the Brave. Laena fancied herself just as important as Vhagar’s two previous riders. 

Something Daemon found rather ridiculous. She was neither a warrior nor a great politician. She was just a spoiled woman who always got what she wanted. Her parents nonsense about her chance to become queen had gone to her head. All of them went inside as well. Everyone of them is going to exercise discretion. He knew Laena would try asking him if he would sleep in her chambers, but he was off in the direction of the library before a word could get out of her mouth. 

One and a half hours later, everyone came to dinner. And of course, it went just like Daemon had predicted. Laena and Rhaenys were talking about some things (he cared enough to find out exactly what). Laenor tried to withstand his father’s arguments. And Rhaenyra was pushing around her food on the table. She excused herself early and went back to her chambers. 

Daemon was aware that Laenor sometimes slept inside his Rhaenyra’s rooms, but since the twins birth, he stopped doing so. He downed three more glasses of wine and pretended to already be full when Laena asked him to escort her. So her mother, Rhaenys, helped her stand. Being six months pregnant seemed to make it hard for her to stand on her own. But Daemon knew Laena hadn't been pregnant for six months. No, he knew she had been pregnant for one and a half moons before she informed him. She would be nearing her eighth month now.

He was certain the child was not his because, at the time it was conceived, he wasn’t even with Laena. Instead, she was in a maison in Braavos while he was throwing a party with his friend, the Prince of Pentos. So the child was most definitely not his. He couldn’t wait for Rhaenys' face when she realized it. That her daughter had been impregnated by someone else. He knew she wasn’t far from giving birth, so he just had to wait a little longer.

Waiting until Rhaenys and Laena were out of sight, Daemon excused himself. He let Corlys and Laenor believe he was on his way to the library, but in truth, he sought out his niece in her quarters. He did not find her in her rooms. So he began searching for her. Even though he had no idea where she was, he followed his intuition. And then he heard her voice. Singing a lullaby in High Valyrian, he had sung to her whenever she was restless or anxious. He followed his niece’s voice to the nursery of her sons, not that far away from her own chambers. He entered without her knowledge and leaned against the door frame. Listening to Rhaenyra rocking her sons to sleep. When the little boys finally settled down, he dared to make his presence known.

“Your voice is as beautiful as ever," he said, quietly. Careful not to wake the two babes, but loud enough for his niece to hear. Who abruptly turned around, a guarded expression on her face. But he saw right through her; she had been waiting for him to come. Maybe she would deny it, but Daemon knew. His niece had always been an open book to him. “Uncle, what are you doing inside my son’s nursery?” she asked, agitated, her eyes blazing with fire. He chuckled. Oh, how he loved seeing her like this. A Targrayen through and through. 

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra had hoped she could avoid her uncle for as long as possible. And not to stumble into his arms with her first step onto Driftmark. She had hoped to be spared from Rhaenys cold glares she had prayed to the gods to at least let their arrival be civil. But it seemed the Gods cared not to give her even a little peace. She felt Daemons eyes. She always did. Whenever her uncle had been in her presence she was aware of him being near her. 

Now though his piercing violet-purple eyes made her nearly squirm uncomfortable. His focus was solely on her and her boy in her arms. Instead of on his very pregnant wife. Laenor had only gotten Laena's message a month prior. It seemed she was either having twins as well or was much further along than she claimed to be. Not that Rhaenyra cared about that. She had her two boys to worry about. 

As much as she loved Laenor and was thankful that through him she now had her two precious twin boys, he wasn't the partner she wished for. She had hoped he would grow to be a good consort, a supportive father to their boys. In the first two weeks after their son's birth she saw he was truly trying his best. But his best was simple not enough. More often than not he spend his time with his newfound partner Ser Quarl instead of spending time with their sons. 

She herself saw to most of their needs. Her trustworthy handmaidens and four Ladies-in-waiting were trying to lessen her burden, but her boys would not drink any other milk other than her own breast milk. So she had to feed them every 2 to 4 hours. Even at night. Which in turn meant she had barely enough sleep to survive a day at court. Still she kept fighting for her boys. 

Every free minute she could muster she was with her twins. She hated the fact that she had to leave them alone more often than not. Truly she wished Laenor would still try to be a father to their twins. Regardless she knew her hopes would only be proven wrong. Laenor was a man, so barely anyone cared what he did and who or where he spent his time. Different to herself. Every member of the court watched her day and night. Her supporters watched her to be assured she was still fighting. The Green supporters watched her like hawks, waiting and scheming. Plotting trap after trap. Waiting for her to make a fatal mistake. 

She knew better now. Once she had not care how anyone viewed her, now she was highly aware of how appearance influenced people. Her Stepmother only wore green gowns and dressed her children in green. As did all of her supporters. Rhaenyra had once dressed in many different colours. Bright and light ones. But since her sons birth she only every wore Targaryen red and black. Each dress she wore was carefully chosen. She wanted to make her stance clear. 

Soon her supporters started to wear black as well. Now a clear line between her allies and Alicent's allies was drawn. Rhaenyra knew it enraged her Stepmother to see just how many Nobleman and women side with her. All of them were clever enough to realise, as soon as her half-brother would ascend the Throne Otto Hightower would rule in his name. Like he already did in her fathers.

She couldn't understand how her father could remain blind to his hands ambitions. Since Otto Hightower became hand nothing had been enough for him. He craved more and more power. Power that he got more and more since her father was crowned King. With each passing year his power grew. He already had the Citadel on his side, simple based on the fact that the Hightowers were their main sponsors. And that Oldtown was attached to the Faith. Which meant they would never recognise a female ruler. As if having a cook was some great achievement. Men were not better or more qualified to rule just because they were in possession of a cock.

Rhaenyra did not know how often everybody told her she was inferior and less important than a man. Because she was born as a female. All her life her father had wanted nothing more than a boy. A boy that would one day inherited the Iron Throne after him.  But none of the boys her mother birthed lived long enough. Some even died in her womb. 

When she had discovered that she had become pregnant she feared to be the same as her mother. Losing her children or giving birth to one dead babe after another. Fortunate for herself she did not share her mother's fate. Or that of her two grandmothers. Daella Targaryen, her mother's mother had been only six and ten when she gave birth to her mother Aemma Arryn. Dying a day later due to her physical weakness and a fever that began after the fever. Something similar happened to her other grandmother.

Alyssa Targaryen, her father's mother and her grandmothers older sister. Alyssa had safely given birth to two babes, her father Viserys and her uncle Daemon. Her third pregnancy had been fine as well. But the birth was said to be a horrible one. Her grandmother had given birth to another child, a third boy. But her grandmother never recovered from the birth. Before the year ended she was dead. Rhaenyra's second uncle, a boy named Aegon, only lived half a year longer than her grandmother.  

Her Stepmother would have been delighted had she shared the same fate as so many Targaryen women did. Without a doubt her prayers had been not for her or her child's health. Instead Alicent must have begged the Seven to kill her in the process of giving birth. Which Alicent had pointed out had been so easy for her. Aegon had come swift and Helaena nearly as fast as her elder brother. Rhaenyra had been tempted to throw something at her Stepmother and father back then. Her Stepmother always commenting just how hard this first pregnancy seemed to be on her, her father had just mindlessly nodded along. 

The Crown princess was well aware that the Greens had tried to sabotage her pregnancy. That they had tried to kill her children before they were even born. She refused to drink any tonic the Maesters provided her with. Not that anyone was aware she did not drink them. Each time the Maesters offered her some kind of tonic or other drink she took them with a false smile. False but convincing. As soon as the door was closed in the Maesters face she poured the content into the next plant. 

Most if not all of these so called soothing tonics were poisoned with some kind of herb that either killed the child in her womb or was meant to kill them both at the same time. Which would have meant the Greens would reach their goal. With Rhaenyra's death (and if she died without any children) the King would name Aegon the heir. And even if she did have children before she died it would not matter. As long as said children would be helpless infants. Unprotected infants. Easy to kill with either poison or though assassination. 

She did not think Alicent was capable of cold murder but Rhaenyra wasn't so sure about her other allies. Like Larys Strong. His father was Lynoel Strong the master of Laws in her father's council. She was fond of his elder brother Harwin Strong the current Commander of the Gold Cloaks. Larys was a strange human being. He was always around Ladys gossiping with them. Which could have been because of his Clubfoot. She was aware that he was no ordinary man but she also knew it was too late to draw him to her side.

Still she thought Alicent's father was more of a danger to her and her children than Larys Strong. The Hand would certainly make it seem like a tragic accident. Her children's death would never be traced back to him. He was to cunning for hiring anyone that was sloppy enough to be caught. That at least was what she had thought.

Now she knew even the oh so clever hand could make mistakes. An assassin had already been sent after her sons, she was glad that Ser Erryk had been the one guarding her son’s chamber. So the assassin did not get to her sons. But before he could be questioned he killed himself. Later it was revealed that he had no tongue, which meant he couldn't have told her anything even if they interrogated him. Still Otto made a grave mistake by hiring that assassin, because he wore a pin in the form of a tower and wore a dark green gape. Thanks to investigations of Lord Corlys they knew which assassin guilds he belonged to. So the Hand would not dare to hire from that guild again.

Even though that revelation brought Rhaenyra hope, she also experienced just how disappointing her father support could be. Instead of promising more guards to secure his grandchildren's safety (or her own) he just dismissed the assassination attempt as a misunderstanding. Nevertheless the security around his son Aegon had been doubled. Definitely because her Stepmother had begged him to do so. Nowadays it seemed Alicent's words and health were far more important to her father than her or her children's. She was his daughter, his heir, he should be on her side by the Fourteen Flames. Instead he sabotaged her as well, without even releasing it. Furthermore he dismissed her ideas and concerns so often that she simple refused to ask him for anything anymore. 

She was glad that her mother's sister Lady Amanda gave her the advice to be responsible for her own accounts. Before her marriage she had to ask Alicent or the King for coins for any dresses or jewellery. She would never forget the Queens smug expression whenever Rhaenyra had to ask her for access to the royal covers. 

Since she was married that had changed, to the Crown princesses relief. Now she did not have to ask for Alicent's permission any longer. Which was freeing and felt good. She had been present when three of her enemies tried to convince the King that it wasn't necessary for the heir to get access to her own accounts. Trying and failing to persuade him that the Queen would gladly watch over the princess coins. Thankfully for once her father had been on her side and forbidden the Hand or the Queen to have any say in his heirs spendings. He did so only after the Master of Coin, Lord Beesbury and the Master of Law Lord Strong had spoken in her favour. 

She had hoped to escape the court's gossiping and also her enemies judgmental gazes. Most of all the Queens. Alicent whispered behind her back about her twin's hair. As if their black Baratheon hair was anything bad. They were more Targaryen than Alicent's children. Aegon and Helaena were undeniable Targaryen in their colouring at least. The Queen was so proud of her children's Targaryen hair and their purple eyes.

Aerion and Baelon had typical Targrayen eyes, but their dark hair was enough for the Greens to make up rumours. She did not care about her babies black hair, Laenor did not care, her father the King did not care, Lord Corlys did not care. But everyone else cared. The Queen whispered her gossip with her Ladies, the Hand used her son's hair to paint her as a whore. Her children's grandmother despised them because they had her maternal family's hair. Rhaenyra knew her children's hair was similar to Jocelyn Baratheons. She had seen portraits of Crown Prince Aemon's wife. Her children's great-grandmother.

Aerion even had Laenor's curls, and Baelon had a bit of silver hair. She did everything she could possibly do. She went to bed with her husband, even though for both of them their martial duty was torture, nothing more. What more could she do? She couldn't magically change her children's hair. They were born with dark hair and she loved them. Her babies were perfect as they are. If nobody could love them because of their appearance, she would for the rest of their life.

Really, she had hoped her babies and her could have a peaceful time. She would avoid Rhaenys and Laena as much as possible and stay within her children's nursery. Maybe Laenor would remember he had children now and not just spent his time everywhere but their quarters.

She was sure she could manage to also avoid her uncle if she hid inside the nursery. Which Lord Corlys had been gracious enough to provide them with. The first time Laenor and her visited Driftmark as husband and wife was a year ago, a few weeks before she and Laenor learned of her pregnancy. They had been here for three weeks. In these three weeks they did their martial duty, often on the insistence of her good-parents. That first visit had been most likely the time when her sons were conceived.

And even if they did their duty, even if she gave birth to twin boys with Velaryon blood in their veins, it wasn't enough. Dark hair was enough for Rhaenys to hate her children. And to refuse to call them her grandchildren. At least Lord Corlys accepted them despite their black hair. Maybe he also thought they were bastards but accepted them for appearance's sake.

By the Fourteen Flames, she wanted to scream at all those who called her beautiful babies bastards. There were as true-born as a child could be. And now that Laena was here, Rhaenys would go on and on about finally getting grandchildren. Completely ignoring her son's hurt gaze. She knew Laenor wasn't happy in their marriage, there was nothing she could do about that. She was just as unhappy with her marriage as he was.

But just like Laenor her father had also forced her to wed someone she could never love as a wife should love her husband. And now she was forced to be face to face with the only man she ever loved for a whole moon. Because that was how long Laenor wanted to stay on Driftmark to be with his sister. She knew her husband loved his sister, but gods, she couldn't stand her cousin. Her smug smile when she saw Rhaenyra look at her very round belly, or her smug words in each letter.

As soon as she managed to step away from her uncle she wanted to do nothing more then to run and hide. Laenor came to her rescue and she decided to retire to her rooms to relax a little before dinner. Laenor and she shared chambers until Rhaenyra decided it would be better for their mental health if they didn't so now whenever they came to Driftmark two rooms were prepared. Away from each other. Her good-parents had tried to force them to stay in the same chamber but both of them refused to do so they gave up and let them have their will. Now they slept in two separate rooms away from each other.

She brought her sons to another room, which was decorated to be their nursery. She would be spending more time in here than in her own chambers. Which wasn't a problem, the only place she slept a bit peaceful was her son's presence. They calmed her, and she didn't dare to wake up screaming like she did when she slept in her chambers.

Time for dinner came far too soon. Again she had to watch Rhaenys fawn over her pregnant daughter and endure her uncle's piercing gaze. She thanked the gods for their mercy when Laena retired early and left with her mother. Rhaenyra herself retired soon after that to get away from her uncle. She assumed Laenor would be held in the dinning hall until late evening. Lord Corlys seemed to have urgent things to discuss with his heir.

Practically fleeing from the dinning hall, she walked faster than normally appropriate, but she cared not for that at the moments. What she wanted was to get as far away from Daemon as possible, lest old feelings began to heat up again. She had buried any affection she once held for her uncle. At least that was what she had thought.

It seemed as even her own feelings betrayed her. Because contrary to what she had believed she could not simply stop to love Daemon. For the first time in two years, since the day of her marriage nobody understood her. But as soon as she locked eyes with Daemon she felt as if the world was alright again. As if the last two years were only a nightmare. But she knew it wasn't a nightmare, that everything that happened was very much real.

And Daemon was also at fault for her situation. She was angry at him. He abandoned her in the Street of Silk, in a godforsaken brothel. And he had the audacity to show up at her wedding day, a wedding she was forced into because of whatever he had said to anger her father. Then he abandoned her yet again and flew off to marry her new good-sister.

To calm herself, she cradled her boys in her arms. She had insisted on bringing their eggs with them to Driftmark. She feared what would happen to them if she left the eggs at the Dragonpit in Kingslanding. Gods knew what Alicent would have done to them. Maybe destroyed them to destroy her son's chance of becoming dragonriders. She was aware of her Stepmothers jealousy. Her half-sibling's eggs had turned to stone days after they were laid in their crib. Her boys eggs on the other hand were still warm and alive even four moons after their birth. Rhaenyra was sure they would hatch. She carefully set her twins down, beside their eggs.

Aerion and Baelon were a bit fussy today. They did not like the ride on the ship. She would have come on dragonback but once again her father had forbidden it. Said it was too soon for her. She had just given birth four months prior. As if she was made out of glass. Her father seemed to forget that she was a dragonrider and that his own mother rode with him and Daemon on dragonback mere days after their birth. But to appease her father and be left alone for the next moon she complied. Regardless she was angry. Her sweet boys did not even get their first dragonrider yet, something she would have to correct soon.

Her son's cries tore her out of her thoughts. Immediately she sat down next to the babies crib and began to sing them a Valyrian song. A lullaby her uncle had sung to her whenever she was fussy or couldn't be calmed by anyone. The same lullaby Daemon also taught her mother.

She did not hear the door open, so she remained unaware of the intruder. When her little boys finally settled down. Only then did the intruder made his presence known.

"Your voice is as beautiful as ever.", he said, quietly careful not wake the two babes, but loud enough for Rhaenyra to hear. Abruptly she turned around. Putting an indifferent mask on. But he saw right through her, he knew she had anticipated his visit. Maybe she could deny it for a time, it mattered not for her Uncle she had always been an open book. Even now, after two years of complete silence between them. "Uncle, what are you doing inside my sons nursery?", she asked agitated, her eyes blazing with fire. He chuckled, oh the nerve of him. That smug bastard enjoyed seeing her so worked up.

“Leave Uncle. You aren’t welcome here.”, she told him icily. And gods did she wish she could really mean it. Her uncle chuckled and took a step forward. Rhaenyra inhaled sharply, his smell hitting her nose hard. She shallowed and tried to avoid his eyes, focusing on her sons instead. Daemon grinned slightly taking another step.

“Daemon. Stop right there.”, she commanded him, her face turned away from him. She couldn’t stop the little tremble in her voice. Too often had the men of her family stepped into her personal space. Her father did it regularly, not with bad intentions, he did not know that Rhaenyra had developed a fear of others touching her. Especially if they were men. Leanor also laid his hands on her shoulders or neck, trying to reassure her, but his touch did the exact opposite. It unsettled her even more. Rhaenyra was glad that nobody had noticed her fear of being touched. The only ones touch she did not recoil from were her two sons. They never did her any wrong. She kept her distance from everyone else.

“Are you alright, Sweet niece?”, Daemon asked, not taking another step after she commanded him to stop. No one else had listened to her command to not come near her. Nobody but him now. It was confusing. He was another one of her enemies. Instead of siding with her he left, he abandoned her and fled. And now he asked if she was alright. So many others did as well, though none sounded so sincere.

“Nothing is wrong, Uncle. I just wish for a quite evening with my sons. If you please would leave my sons nursery now, so that I can enjoy at least a peaceful time here?!”, she snapped. He shouldn’t even dare to ask her about her health. Gods one could think he still cared about her. But she knew better than to assume such a thing. If he had cared, he would never have left. If he still cared than he should know she wanted to be far away from him.

She would have to endure his presence for only one moon. Then she would return to Kingslanding. She had known what awaited her in Driftmark when she consented to a visit here. Rhaenys cold behaviour, at least she wasn’t outright hostile like Alicent was at court. Corlys greedy ambitions. She knew he was talking to Laenor right at this moment about the prospect of more children. Four moons after their twins birth. Already, her father and good-father demanded more children. She had just given birth to twins, when she had expected to birth only one child. Grandmaester Mellos did not recognised the signs of her carrying twins. Nobody did.

“Please little dragon you were always a bad liar.”, he snorted, still remaining where he was. In the middle of the room, about six steps away from where she was sitting. Every time she was in her uncle’s presence she felt so small, it was even worse with her sitting and him looming heads above her. Even if he was still six feet away. “You wouldn’t know if I was lying.”, she retorted.

“Of course I would know. I know you better than most in this kingdom.”, he answered calm. The High Valyrian rolled off his tongue so naturally. He must be speaking it quite often with Laena. Her own was not as fluent as before, because no one was there that spoke their ancestral language with her regularly. Her father hadn’t used High Valyrian in many years, Laenor didn’t use it when they spoke to each other. Cousin Rhaenys didn’t even speak to her at all. Lord Corlys was avoided by her by all means, she did not wish to converse with the man.

Her sons were babies. They couldn’t understand her nor give her an answer. Nevertheless, she had sung to them when they were still in her womb. She would teach her boys High Valyrian. It was a part of their heritage, an essential part of their heritage.

“Two years ago you did. Nowadays you do not.”, she answered him in the common tongue. For one to annoy Daemon a bit and secondly because she was too embarrassed to use High Valyrian. She did not want him to hear her less fluent High Valyrian. Her uncle frowned when her answer was made in the common tongue. He did not approach her, but leaned a bit forward.

“Come now sweet niece. Two years are nothing.” “Maybe for you Uncle. Your two years were enjoyable. Not everybody has the luxury to do as they want!”, she bit out, gritting her teeth to keep calm. Why was she still talking to him? Why didn’t she simply insist on him leaving her son’s nursery? “I….” “I don’t wish to hear more from you Uncle. Leave me alone with my sons. The days on the ship were exhausting, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you and you’re……you’re concerns. So please just go. If you must speak with me another time, just not today.”, she interrupted him.

Tired of the long way and caring for her twins had left her utterly exhausted. She was glad that there were no purple rings under her eyes any more. Which would have even been more embarrassing for her. Because her uncle would have demanded to know why she wasn’t sleeping enough. Though the obvious reason was her twins, they were by far not the only reason for her barely being able to find sleep at night.

“Princess….”, he began but interrupted himself. A long silence followed. It was silent so long that Rhaenyra half expected to see him gone from her twin boy’s room. But no, he was still standing there, six feet away, silently observing her. “As you wish. We will talk another time. Have a good night, little dragon.”, he complied with her plea and turned to the door. She let out a sigh of relief. Then he stopped again, turning around once more. “Rest Rhaenyra. You look exhausted. I will see you tomorrow.” With that he was gone, closed the door behind him and left as quietly as he had entered the nursery.

Finally she let herself slump into herself. Leaning heavily on the side of her children’s crib. She leaned her head against it and held back her tears. It was overwhelming to see her uncle again after two long years.

Unlike Daemon, she heard Laenor enter their boy’s room. “Rhaenyra I saw Daemon just now. Was he here?”, her husband asked. “Why would you care if he was?”, she asked in return. “Of course I care. I know you do not want Daemon to go near you or our sons.”, he said. Rhaenyra nearly scoffed. He also knew she did not want to be near his mother or sister, nonetheless he nagged her long enough until she agreed to come here. To Driftmark were she was equally unhappy as in the red Keep. “He was here for a short time. Nothing happened. I sent him away.”, she said. “Good.”

“Why has something happened?”, she asked, concerned. “Laena wanted her husband with her. Something with the babe. She and Mother just send me to search for him.” Ah, Laena and her child of course. “Ah Laena of course. I pray nothing is wrong with her child’s health.” And she meant it. Even if she did not like her cousin, the child in her belly was innocent. She he’d nothing against it. Even if it was her uncle’s babe. “In times like this, her husband should be by her side.”, Laenor continued as if he didn’t hear her comment. Now the Crown Princess truly scoffed. Laenor did not even notice her disgruntled expression.

Yes, Laena’s husband should be there for her in her pregnancy. But Laenor himself did not seem to find it necessary to assist her during her pregnancy. Only on the day of their children’s birth he had been there. Throwing the Maesters out and staying with her. Otherwise during the pregnancy when she needed anything or was in pain, her handmaidens tried to soothe her nerves. Laenor was either in his own chambers or nowhere to be found in the Castle. She had stopped trying to involve him more in her pregnancy than talking to him about their child’s future name. (At the time, they still thought they would only have one child.) One of the few rare moments where he was even approachable.

Laenor was informing her about something his father had discussed with him, but right now Rhaenyra couldn’t even pretend to care. “Laenor, stop. Whatever your father wants or talked you into, it can wait until tomorrow. Right now I’m exhausted, tired and not in the mood to listen to you. So get out.”, she commanded. “You cannot simply throw me out of my son’s nursery cousin.”, he protested. “I can and I just did. Get out Laenor. I wish to be left in peace and sound time with my sons undisturbed.”

”Rhaenyra they are also my sons!”, he exclaimed. “Ah, so you do remember.”, she scoffed. “Rhaenyra.” “Enough. Go Laenor, go to your sister or your father or your paramour. Just leave. Now!”, she ordered. Defeated her cousin left the room without another word. Now he somehow wanted to be a father to their boys? Ridiculous, these past three and a half month he hadn’t seemed to even remember having sons. As much as she loved Laenor as her cousin, she was displeased with him. Maybe she should suggest he would stay longer than one moon on Driftmark. Until his sister went into labour. Then she and her boys would sail back to the Red Keep alone. And have one burden less without her husband. She felt bad for thinking about Laenor as a burden.

Before she could sink into her dark thoughts, one of her boys began to cry. Aerion had woken up, her eldest was the lighter sleeper of the two twins. Baelon slept like a rook. Sometimes she still checked several times if her baby boy still breathed. Aerion cried harder until his mother’s hand came to rest on his head. “It’s alright my darling boy. Muña is here. Nothing will hurt you. Go back to sleep.”, she whispered. Knowing her child wouldn’t understand her anyway.

Staying awake until her eldest had finally gone back to sleep, she laid her head on her arms and closed her eyes. It was dark outside. The night had already begun. Dozing of, she did not notice the figure that watched her from the shadows. The same figure that saw her shivering from the cold sea breeze and covered her shivering form with a warm, thick blanket. “Rest well, my Love, I will watch over you.”

Chapter Text

Daemon had enough. His niece managed to avoid him for two weeks straight. Two fucking weeks. Not a word to him. Only polite, necessary greetings in passing. He barely got to look at her. Either she was with Laenor or behind the nursery door, which was guarded by two guards. Velaryon guards. He really wanted to talk to Rhaenyra but, he wouldn’t risk Corlys wrath. Should he hear that Daemon went to speak with her, the Velaryon patriarch would be an even bigger pain in the ass. For both Rhaenyra and him. 

In the past he quite liked the man, he made a legacy for himself as did Daemon. They both had to work hard for what they achieved. But now he was just another annoying person in his life. Besides Laena, who insisted he spend time with her and “their child”. Gods, the Velaryon Lady was a worse liar than Rhaenyra. Everyone could see she was much further along than she claimed. The birth shouldn't be too far away now. He couldn’t wait for Rhaenys and Corlys faces, when they realized their daughter’s child wasn’t fathered by him. There was no chance the child in her was of his seed.

He would enjoy the look on the Velaryon faces when they realized it as well. And there was no way he would pretend a Velaryon bastard was his child. Corlys already had access to three dragons. His wife’s dragon, his late mother’s dragon Meleys, Laenor’s dragon Seasmoke and Vhagar. The great she-dragon once ridden by his father Baelon the Brave. Now she was bonded to Laena Velaryon. A misjudgement on the old dragon's part, he was sure. The Velaryon Lady was more of the Sea than fire. Unlike his Sweet Niece, who was Targaryen through and through.

Laena complained day after day that he should be by her side, fulfilling her wishes, since she was carrying his child. It was irritating. Before they arrived at Driftmark she had left him alone and kept to her lovers and handmaidens to fulfill her every whim. He found it even more confusing, that since Rhaenyra and Laenor arrived at Driftmark she was more annoying than usual. Whenever his niece was in earshot, she would go on and on about carrying his child. By the Fourteen Flames, he wanted to strangle her. But even he had enough restraint to not attack pregnant woman.

No matter how much of an annoyance she would be. Moreover, his cousin Rhaenys was even more annoying than her daughter. She shot his niece cold glares from time to time, and did not even glance at her two grandsons when Rhaenyra and Laenor brought them with them to one of the dinners. His cousin was entirely focused on her pregnant daughter. She also voiced her displeasure with Daemons lack of attention and presence. Though he knew Rhaenys was smart enough to think of the possibility that her daughter’s child was a bastard, she would still love it regardless of that.

But she couldn’t do so for her actual grandchildren. Which wasn’t his problem, so he didn’t interfere. One day her decision would come to bit her in the ass, and she would deserve it. He had no regret thinking like that. One day, her grandsons wouldn’t call her grandmother any more once they realized she despised them. Should she come to regret her actions, it would be too late.

He wasn’t happy to see the two boys, they were a reminder of what he could have had. His niece’s first children could have been his, had he not been such a coward. If only he stayed that day. He should have taken her to Dragonstone and married her there, like she asked or rather challenged him to. He regretted not doing it. Still there was nothing he could do now. What was done could not be made undo.

Daemon tried time and time again to get his niece alone, luck wasn’t on his side these past two weeks. Despite his lack of luck, he could still watch his niece when they were forced to endure the dinners. He never acknowledged Laena when she wanted something from him. Every ounce of his focus was directed towards Rhaenyra. While his young cousin Laenor seemed to bloom and come back to live, his niece did the opposite.

Laenor looked healthier and happier than the first time he had seen the young man for the first time in two years. When he dismounted Seasmoke, he looked tired to the bone. His eyes were lifeless and dull. These past two weeks he witnessed how more colour returned to Laenor’s face. His complex became healthier with each day. His eyes began to shine again and he spent nearly as much time with Laena as Rhaenys did. If he wasn’t in his sister's company, he was with his father in the Sea Snake's office discussing the Stepstones. Because once again some pirates sought to start another War of the Stepstones. This time Daemon would not participate.

Corlys hadn’t asked him for his support yet. Previously he would have given it without much thought if he asked him. Now he would refuse to help House Velaryon once more. The Velaryon patriarch would assume Daemon would be on board and participate in another war because he was married to his daughter. He knew the Sea Snake thought Daemon was duty bound to help him because of his marriage. He couldn’t be more wrong. The Targaryen Prince was tired of others who thought he owned them their loyalty simply because of blood relations or vows he did not mean to honour. He would happily watch the Velaryon fail without him. Besides, they didn’t need him to win a war. They had a strong armada of ships and two dragons who could go to war. Laena wouldn’t participate in the war because she was pregnant, and Lord Corlys would never want his daughter on a battlefield.

Laenor fought in the last war, so Lord Corlys had no excuse not to send his heir. Because even if Laenor was Driftmark’s declared heir since birth, he had to keep proving himself. Otherwise, the men who would later be under his command would never respect him. One wanted to lead people? First their respect had to be earned through hard work.

Rhaenys and Meleys could go to war. His mother's former bonded dragon was agile and experienced. She would do good in a war he knew. He also knew Lord Corlys would never allow Rhaenys to fly to war with him. Firstly because someone other than his brother Vaemond would have to hold the Driftwood Throne and secondly he didn’t want his secret getting out.

Daemon never fully trusted Corlys. And he was right to do so. The Velaryon patriarch had mistresses he visited while he was on voyages or fighting in wars. He most likely did have a few bastards running around too. Daemon supposed either Rhaenys was aware and just ignored it, or she had no idea of her husband's unfaithfulness. He bet it was the latter of the two. His cousin always thought she was better than anyone. She must have thought that she was enough for Lord Corlys. But the greedy Velaryon could never eat enough.

He lost the chance to be King Consorts and rule through his cousins when Rhaenys lost to Viserys at the Great Council. Daemon was aware that Rhaenys was smart and political reversed. Nevertheless, she followed her husband's whimps. Corlys would have used her as a puppet to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Now that he couldn't achieve that, he settled for the next best thing. Seeing one of his grandchildren on the Throne as reigning King. (Though he would never see that happening, the man wasn’t getting any younger.) Maybe as King and Queen.

The Prince overheard a conversation between Laenor and Corlys a few days ago. They discussed Laena’s child. And the possibility of it being a girl. If it was, Corlys wished to betroth the girl to Rhaenyra’s eldest son Aerion, her heir. The boy who would be King after her. Laenor wasn’t against the match, but he couldn’t decide that alone. Rhaenyra as the boy’s mother had a say. He just knew his niece would never agree to a betrothal between her eldest and Laena’s child if it was indeed a girl.

His niece avoided her cousin even more than she avoided him. She wouldn’t want her son betrothed to the Velaryon Lady’s child. Especially not if the child was confirmed to be a bastard. Which it would be. He had no doubts in that.

As much as Laenor had improved these two weeks, he noticed his niece’s decline. More often he saw her exhausted and tired all the time. Barely able to keep awake a few times. She ate less and less with every passing day. He saw how she lost more weight, her figure became skinner. The dark rings underneath her eyes became visible. Her health was declining. And he didn’t really knew why. He wanted to do something, anything to help her, but he couldn’t get close to her at any time these past two weeks.

Before he became more and more aware of her declining health, he would have waited for her to come to him. She always did in the past. Even if she was angry at him. But that was when she was still a child. His little niece. He had stopped seeing her as only his little niece once she turned five and ten, but kept himself in check. Now his control was slipping. With every passing hour, he couldn't endure it any longer.

The last line was crossed at today’s dinner. She had eaten nothing. And none of the people present had commented on it or tried to encourage her to eat anything. Not even her so-called husband.

Then and there he decided he cared no longer if Corlys would be cross with him, if the Lord would send word to Viserys. They all could go to the seven Hells. He would speak with his niece today, and nobody would stop him. He walked towards the twin's nursery. Because she hadn’t been in her bedchamber or in the library. And those two were the only places where she would be so late in the evening. Laenor was once again with his sister, who felt uncomfortable and wanted her brother with her.

He marched towards the two guards that stood guard at the door. He didn’t allow them to talk. “If you value your life, get away from the door and let me through.”, he commanded. The two Velaryon guards hesitated. But one thunderous glare from him and they nearly scrambled away from the door, practically running away from him. He was famous for his short and violent temper and they had seen Dark Sister at his belt. He thought about entering without knocking, but decided against it. He nocked softly on the door.

A few minutes passed in complete silence, then he heard something rustle inside the room. A few seconds later his nieces melodic but evidently tired voice rang out. “Come in.”, she permitted him entry. He was sure she was aware who would enter her sons nursery.

He opened the door and closed it with a soft click behind him. Like last time, Rhaenyra was turned away from him, facing him with her back. Her faced turned towards her sons. Leaning heavily onto the twin's crib. Daemon narrowed his eyes worriedly. In her white nightgown, she looked even thinner than in the dress she wore an hour ago. “Uncle, what do you want so late in the evening?”, she asked him, sounding dead tired.

“Rhaenyra we have to talk.”, he said. “About what? Was my silence not enough for you? Weren’t my actions clear enough? I thought you were smart enough to understand the message I sent with the past two weeks.”, she retorted, her patience’s running out fast. “Oh believe me, I understood it loud and clear. But I don’t think you mean it.”, he provoked her. He wanted her to look at him. Daemon needed her to look him in the eye and properly talk with her.

“Shut your mouth Uncle. You know nothing.” “I know you.” “No you don’t. Not any more. You ceased knowing me the day you abandoned me. I’m no longer your naive little niece who was all too eager to fall for your tricks.”, she hissed. Still refusing to face him. He was done playing nice and giving her space. He knew he was being an asshole but he was finished with pretending, that he wasn’t who he was. Prince Daemon Targaryen, the Rouge Prince, Rider of Caraxes, former heir apparent and a fucking Targaryen.

With four long strides, he reached his niece and placed his hands on her shoulders. She shivered and he saw goosebumps appear on her neck. Normally that would be a good sign. She was reacting to him. Now however, she was stiffening under his touch, becoming tense. A reaction he wasn’t pleased with. Noticing her unease, he withdrew his hands but stayed close to her. “Rhaenyra…”, he started. “Don’t start Uncle. I don’t want to hear anything from you. You have no right to force yourself into my life again. You deserted your place in it out of free will.”, the princess said. By now, she had stopped caressing her youngest son’s head.

“I have every right to meddle into your life.”, he growled. “Do you?! And why do you think you still have the right to do that?!”, she demanded to know. Ha, she was every bit the courageous and headstrong Rhaenyra he remembered. His niece could hold a long grudge if she wanted to. Though he deserved her scorn, he admitted it was his fault he gained her ire, but he refused to believe one mistake would leave him unable to meddle. She was clearly unwell. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to know, but to him it was obvious.

“Rhaenyra talk to me.”, he was not above begging at this point. She was so goddam stubborn. A strong headed Targaryen through and through. “I don’t have anything to talk about.” “Rhaenyra I have eyes. You haven’t slept good enough in the past few days. You have circles under your eyes. Too deep to be just from one night to less sleep. You are much thinner than two weeks ago. With every meal that passes, you are losing weight and are eating less. You barely walk around, I haven’t seen you anywhere else than your own bedchambers, this nursery or the library in fourteen days.”, he hissed.

Silence followed his rant, she remained turned away from him. Stubbornly facing her twins rather than him. She remained silent for a long time, minute after minute passed, no answer came from her. Daemon took the time to truly look around the nursery. It was generously decorated with imagines of both House Targaryen and House Velaryon. At least here Lord Corlys didn’t try to force his legacy on the babes shoulders. But something caught his eye. A medium-sized bed. Which had recently been used. He looked to Rhaenyra, then back to the bed, then again back to Rhaenyra.

Only now he took in her dishevelled state. Her hair was flowing openly over her back, silver golden locks of hair tangled from sleep. Her nightgown was loosely tied. She was sleeping in her son’s nursery. Not in her own bedchambers. He had feared as much. Every time these past two weeks when he was inside her chambers the bed was untouched, the room cold, no fire burnt inside to warm it and no guards were stationed outside.

Instead of sleeping in a large comfortable bed she decided she wanted to sleep in a smaller less comfortable one. She must have also slept in one of the chairs, a blanket was still draped over the chair. “Nyra…”, he chocked out. Not realizing his niece had finally turned towards him. She drew herself to her full height, which was still one and a half head shorter than him. Rhaenyra’s eyes were balling with anger and something else. Something he didn’t like to see. They were filled with sadness and pain.

“Mind your own business Uncle. And stay out of mine.” “I have every right to meddle.” “You lost that privilege the day you abandoned be!”, she hissed. “Nyra….I” “Stop calling me that! You….you have no right to call me by a nickname any more.” “I am still your uncle.” “You also were my uncle when you left right after my wedding. You abandoned me again.” 

“I did not…” “NO, you do not get to talk yourself out of this one uncle. You left Kingslanding on your own feet. With your free will intact. By your own choice you decided to take Caraxes and leave Kingslanding, leave Westeros all together. With my new good-sister. And you even married her! Even though days before you kissed me, nearly took my maidenhead and then left me alone in a brothel!”, she snapped, getting angrier and angrier with every word. 

“What could I have possibly done otherwise princess? Tell me!”, he didn’t want to get louder but he raised his voice. Seeing her flinch after that he felt guilty. “Rhaenyra..” “Shut up Uncle. You come into my life assuming everything is as it always was. Thinking I would run into your arms like I did when I was a young girl. I have news for you uncle, I am a women grown now. Since two years. I have children of my own. I do not need you any more. I can take care of my own.”, she ranted. 

“I now that niece. I know how your life has been for the past two years.” That was the wrong thing to say. His niece’s beautiful face became even more pale than before. To pale even for a Targaryen. She began to tremble. He became worried that she would collapse soon. Reaching out to catch her arms and steady her, he took a step forward. 

But she evaded him and sidestepped. He frowned but stood still. “You don’t know how my life has been. You weren’t there!” “I still have friends in the capital.”, he retorted. “So you have spies in my household?!” He remained silent, which was answer enough for Rhaenyra. “Of course you do. I should have known. Not that I can fault you for it. You aren’t the only one who has spies in my household. I am used to being spied on uncle.”, she scoffed. The prince looked at his niece, brows furrowed. He didn’t like her tone. She sounded so resigned and exhausted.

“At least you don’t use it against me.”, she murdered. Daemon knew what she implied. He didn’t spy on her to use the information to hurt her. On the contrary, he planted his spies in her household to be informed of how she was doing. Though none of his spies were near enough to get any informations about his niece’s mental state. 

“Rhaenyra, how are you?”, he asked. Trying to relax her, but it was no use. The change of topic made her even angrier. “You want to know how I have been these past two years?!”, she hissed. “Yes, by the gods. I am worried Rhaenyra. You are barely eating anything at dinner. You sleep less and less every day. You have circles under your eyes and look dead on your feet.”, he ranted. “You know nothing of my struggles Uncle. I am a mother. I have two young boys. They are still babies and need constant attention.”, she said. Of course he knew nothing of parenting, he wasn’t a father. 

“What of Laenor? He is their father.”, he demanded. “He doesn’t seem to remember being a father. He tried two weeks after their birth, but gave up then. Since then he is out drinking with knights of House Velaryon or in the Street of silk with his paramours.”, she scoffed crossing her arms in front of her chest. “What has he been doing this two weeks?”, he asked. 

“Where do you think he is uncle? With your pregnant wife. His sister. Who is more important to him than his own sons!” Rhaenyra was angry, really angry. “Why didn’t you talk to him?”, he murdered. “I tried uncle. I tried. For the past three months I tried to make him remember he has duties as their father. I tried to make him remember he is a father now. But he never listened to me. What can I do more than that. I have no help. No one I can rely on.”

“What of your sworn shield? The Kingsguard? Viserys?”, he asked. A bad feeling came to life in him. “I have no Sworn Shield. Ser Criston is Alicent Sworn Shield now. The Kingsguard is guarding the King and his sons.” “You are the second most important person of the realm. They should at least have two Kingsguard guarding you and your sons. They are your direct heirs.”, he said bewildered. “The King doesn’t see it that way. Alicent and Otto convinced him that my sons and I would be safe with the guards of my household.” “Have you talked to Viserys?” He couldn’t believe his brother would deny him his eldest child anything. But he could imagine that the Hightowers claws have sunken deeper into Viserys these past two years.  

“I tried to, but Alicent is there every time. She is blocking my every move. I am trying my best to survive in my own home uncle. I have few allies these days. My husbands cares more for his adventures with his paramours than for our own sons. Sons we tortured ourselves to conceive. My father’s is influenced by his hand and Queen. The Small Council barely takes me serious and rumours of my sons parentage circulates in the court. Whispers of my sons being bastards. Every single one of my efforts are blocked. I am alone in a court full of vipers. I don’t recognise my home anymore.”, word after word poured out of her. 

“What happened?”, he asked, tacking her trembling hands in his. She didn’t withdraw her hands from his, but she refused to look him into the eyes. He didn’t force her to, he was to bewildered and just listened. “The Red Keep is transformed into a Sept if you ask for my opinion. The relicts of our ancestors are gone, replaced by images of the Seven pointed Star and the Faith. Her grace the Queen seems to think we Targaryens are bound to go to the Seven Hells if we do not atone with decorating our Castle with images of the Seven.”, Rhaenyra wasn’t impressed, rather she was disappointed and resigned. Daemon didn’t believe his ears, his spies reports did not talk about such things. He would have to talk about that with his spies. 

“I am constantly undermined. Alicent manipulates the court and shows of her sons as the true heirs of the realm. Disrespecting my father’s decree every chance she gets. And her father is happy to help her. I have no allies but a few maids a handful household guards, two knight of the Kingsguard that cannot remain by my side all of the time and my sons. Not even my good-parents are on my side. You have seen it yourself, how Rhaenys behaves.” Rhaenyra wasn’t wrong. His cousin regarded his niece as an intruder. Rhaenys was cold towards Rhaenyra and dismissive towards her grandsons.

“You have me, don’t you?”, he inquired. “You were once my ally uncle, not any longer.”, she corrected him. She continued to avoid his eyes. “I am still your ally.” “You ceased being an ally to me the moment you decided Laena was more important to you than I.”, she snapped, tuning her head back to him. Her purple eyes were looked with his violet-purple eyes. His niece looked so lost and tired. “I’m here now, sweet niece.” “And I will be gone in two weeks.” Not if he had anything to say about that. He growled low in his throat and his hands slight from her forearms to her shoulders. One hand slight onto her back the other held her neck. “I won’t leave your side again princess. I swear…..”, he started but was interrupted by a nock on the door. 

“Come in.”, Rhaenyra called out. A Velaryon guard entered and bowed his head in greeting. “I apologise for the intrusion Crown Princess, Prince Daemon.”, the guard apologised, going pale when Dark Sister's blade was inches away from his throat. “What is it?”, Daemon demanded. “Lady Laena had begun her labours. She demands you come to her at once, my Prince.”, the guard reported, shallowing when he saw Daemons angered expression. The prince wasn't happy at all about the intrusion. He was even less pleased with his nieces next words. “You should go, your wife calls you to her side.”, his princess murmured and retreated from his arms. She shook of his hands from her neck and back. Her voice taking on a sorrowful and bitter tone. Instantly his hands shot out again, stooping Rhaenyra from escaping the embrace of his arms. “Come with me.”, he requested. 

Chapter Text

With Rhaenyra and Daemon.

“You have lost your mind Uncle.” Rhaenyra couldn’t believe her ears. “Just leave and go to your wife and child!”, she ordered. Angered and too exhausted to fight with him any more. She would never be present for Laena’s labours. Firstly neither Laena nor Rhaenys would want her there. Secondly she didn’t wish to attend to a woman who was currently giving birth. And thirdly she didn’t want to see her uncle’s happy face when he saw his newborn child. He started a family of his own with Laena. He would soon forget about her and leave Westeros again. Or he would stay on Driftmark and would watch on how Rhaenys treated Laena’s child better than Laenor’s and her sons.

Daemon didn’t move a muscle. Instead he just barked at the Velaryon guard. “Tell Lady Laena that I will not be coming. Men have nothing to do in the birthing chamber.” Fearful of incurring the Rouge Princes wrath the guard fled the room. “What are you doing Uncle?” “Choosing the right side this time.” “What are you talking about?” “I chose wrong two years ago. I decide to leave Kingslanding, because I believe there was nothing there for me. I selected Laena because she was persistent to gain my attention and I couldn’t have you. I picked the next best thing, and I was wrong. It was stupid of me to do it, but I am who I am. I cannot change the past two years, but I am here now, and I won’t be going anywhere.”

“You realized that to late Uncle. I grew up in these two years. I am a different person.”, she answered, trying to pry herself out of his arms. But her Uncle didn’t let her. His grip was firm, yet it didn’t hurt. “You are still my niece. A woman grown you may be. A mother even, but regardless still my niece.”, he stated. “What am I to you Uncle?”, she asked. She had to know it. If he just wanted a way to the throne like every man in this godforsaken realm, she would kick him out of her son’s nursery. “My niece.” “Nothing more? Not the Crown Princess, the heir to the Throne ?”, she questioned. “What do you want to hear from me Rhaenyra. Yes, you are both. You were made heir over me and are still. But first and foremost you are my niece. Your title is secondary. I’m a Targaryen Prince, I don’t need your title.”, he said. “Are you sure?”, she retorted. “I am honest to you niece. I am a man yes, I have ambitions, sure I do, which second son doesn’t. But you are my family. My blood. I took you for granted, like Viserys took me for granted. I lost to many things in my life already. I won’t lose you too.”

“You won’t win me over with honeyed words. The Lannister Twins certainly tried that already. If one of them had succeeded we wouldn’t be here now.”, she scoffed, not believing his sweet words. “I do not ask you to believe me. Believe what you wish. For once in my life I am complete honest with my words.” “I trusted your word once Uncle, and it nearly cost me my reputation and my crown. Forgive me if I’m not inclined to believe you so easily.”, she told him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Then command me to leave and I will.” “What?”, she exclaimed. “Rhaenyra, you are my niece, the person I love most in the world. You had me rapped around your finger the moment you were placed in my arms. I would do anything for you. I have not shown you my loyalty. I know that. And I regret it. I regret the past two years. Laenor should have not been your husband.”, he spoke. “Who should be my husband then Uncle?”, she asked, raising her eyebrow. “I should have been more insistence with your father, when I asked for your hand. I would have been in Laenor’s place if I disobeyed Visery’s command.”

“What command?!”, she demanded to know. “Your father let me be dragged before him by his Kingsguards. He asked me about our night out inside the city. He accused me of taking your maidenhead. Of sullying you. He threatened my life and your heir ship if I continued to stay in the capital. Either I would leave and not show my face again, or he would disinherit you. I couldn’t be the source of more of your pain. You were suffering enough, and I didn’t want to hurt you more than you already were. I didn’t want you to lose the position that made you happy.”

“Why did you come back for my weeding then?”, she asked. “Because I wanted to see you one last time. I was an idiot. A fool to think your torment would end. I sabotaged you with my own doings, and doomed you to be a topic of gossip.”, he answered. “It’s your fault Daemon.” “I know.” “Because of your stupid impulsivity, I was made to wed Laenor. To mend the cracks my father left in the relationship between our family’s. I had to agree because he was the only other choice I had. Either you or Laenor, no one else could have been my husband. I need a husband with dragon blood in his veins. If I couldn’t have you because you chose to abandon me, I had to agree to a life with a man that would never love me. To a live were we had to endure the physical and mental torture of bedding one another. It was torture for both him and me.” “I know Nyra.” Her uncle let her continue to rant on and on.

“Do you know that I cried myself to sleep when I read Laena’s letter that informed Laenor of her pregnancy. Do you know how much it hurt to see another woman carrying your child? You cannot imagine how painful it was to hear you got her with child. Not when I dreamed about my boys being yours. I had hoped they would look more Targaryen, so they could remind me of you. I’m a terrible mother for thinking such, but it is true. I hoped my child would favour his Targaryen ancestry. Like you.”, she whispered, ashamed. “They look Targaryen to me.”, he commented lightly. “That is because you haven’t seen them up close. My sons have Targaryen eyes and their pale complex is Targaryen, but their hair isn’t. Even though Baelon has a bit of silver in his hair. They are called bastard behind my back. And even my own good-mother believes them to be bastards.”

“Are they?”, he asked. “Are they what, uncle?” “Are they bastards?” “No of course not. They are Laenor’s sons. But even you don’t believe me because of their hair.”, she huffed. Daemon let her go, but instead of leaving he turned to the crib and looked down on her sons. Instantly she tensed, remembering another man that had loomed over her sons. Fear griped her. Would Daemon kill her sons? Because they were born of Laenor’s seed? At that moment her uncle leaned down and consider her boys. Who had both opened their eyes and looked up curiously. Daemon’s breath stopped for a moment. “One has Aemma’s eyes. And the other has…”, his voice cracked a little. “Baelon has grandfathers eye.”, she finished his sentence.

“You named him Baelon. Why?”, he nearly chocked out. “Because unlike my grandfather and my brother my son would survive and bring honour to his namesakes. Because grandfather was my favourite and Baelon my last brother.”, she answered. “He is beautiful.”, he commented, while he began to stroke her youngest soft hair carefully. As if he was afraid to hurt him. “They look more like Laenor than me. Aerion has his curls.”, she murmured, looking down on her babies.

“I disagree. I see more of you in them. You looked nearly identical to what you looked like when you were their age. Besides your boys only have little from Laenor. Most comes from you. Their eyes for example.”, he disagreed. “They have my mother's and grandfather's eyes. Both also were family to Laenor.”, she corrected him. “True, but your line descends directly from them. So they have these genes through you. Laenor has stronger Velaryon genes, he is barely a Targrayen. He doesn’t have our name and he doesn’t look like one of us.”, Daemon scoffed, shaking his head and muttering about how he couldn’t believe that someone like Laenor could father such beautiful children.

“His mother is a Targaryen.”, Rhaenyra reminded him, caressing Aerion’s head, so her eldest wouldn’t feel left out. “Rhaenys may carry the Targaryen name, ride a dragon and has purple eyes, but she is half Baratheon.”, he retorted. “Quarter Baratheon. Her mother was Half Baratheon half Velaryon.”, Rhaenyra reminded him. Her good-mother was the daughter of Lady Jocelyn Baratheon and Crown Prince Aemon Targaryen. Her mother Jocelyn was the younger half-sister of Aemon’s parents, Jaehaerys and Alysanne. Their mother's Alyssa Velaryon and Lord Baratheons daughter. So Rhaenys was half Targrayen, a quarter Velaryon and a quarter Baratheon. Which in turn meant her children were even less Targrayen than her.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they take after you more niece. In regard to behaviour and their eggs hatching.” “They haven’t hatched yet.”, she denied. “Yet is the key word. Most eggs don’t hatch at all. And especially not only four months after they were put in their cradle. Your Syrax hatched quicker than any other known dragon. Give your sons eggs time. They will surely hatch.” “How do you know?”, she questioned. “They are your sons. They are as stubborn as you. And if those eggs don’t hatch for them others will. The dragon chooses the rider, not the other way around.” Her youngest decided then and there that he had enough of adult talk and was hungry. Seconds later Aerion followed his younger brother’s example.

Truthfully she hadn’t fed them in over three hours. First she had been to focused on watching over their sleep and then was occupied with Daemon. Now she couldn’t neglect their need to feed. Babies needed to feed every two to four hours. To grow up healthy. “Uncle I would like to feed my sons, turn around.”, she murmured, completely forgetting that she could just send him out of the room, back to his wife. But old feelings died hard and she couldn’t deny that she longed for Daemon’s presence in her life. She couldn't deny that he soothed her nerves like no other did. And by the gods it did good to finally voice her problems.

She had never dared to voice them inside the keep, she never even talked to Laenor. Fearing how he might react. Seeing now how much more important his sister was than his own sons. Instead of going and leaving her alone with her sons, he picked Aerion up and began rocking him carefully. “Uncle, be careful he is only four moons old!”, she stressed. The prince chuckled. “I know how to hold a babe niece. You forget that I was a young man when you were born. I rocked you to sleep often enough. Your son is safe with me.”, he swore. “Alright. I trust you with that. But one scratch on him and you will be Syrax’s next meal.”, she warned. “Your spoiled Lady wouldn’t eat me.” “Do you want to test that theory?”

Daemon shock his head and walked a few steps away from her, her eldest still being rocked in his arms. His back was facing Rhaenyra. He gave her space and the option to feed her son without him watching. She had always been feeling uncomfortable when she had to feed her sons. Because either the Maesters or the servants were fluttering around her. Or Laenor walked into their chambers, completely drunk because of another night in Flea Bottom. She observed the interaction between her child and her uncle.

Daemon was cradling Aerion in his arms, whispering to him in High Valyrian, to quiet for her to understand anything. He smiled at her eldest, who gave him a bubbly childish laugh in return. Rhaenyra had never seen Laenor doing anything like that. He never even truly held their sons these past three moons. Now more than ever she could believe Daemon would be a wonderful father. And in turn she remembered he was about to become a father.

With Laena and Rhaenys 

On the other side of the castle, the birthing room of Lady Laena Velaryon was filled with screams. The Velaryon Lady's birth was hard, she laboured for three hours already, which wasn't that long, some births stretched over days. Princess Rhaenys herself had to labour for three days to bring the Lady into the world.

Laena Velaryon thought she had everything she wanted in life. Her parents had promised her that she would be Queen someday. But another girl took her place. Lady Alicent Hightower. Or rather now Queen Alicent Hightower. She had felt angry and insulted to be shoved aside for a mere Lady of a minor House. While she was the daughter of a Princess and the richest Lord of the Realm. Blood of the ancient Houses Velaryon and Targaryen was flowing through her veins. She was a dragonrider, she called the greatest dragon of all her own. The Queen of Dragons, Vhagar. Once Queen Visenya's mount. Now she belonged to her.

She didn't care any more. Laena had the husband she always dreamed of. Daemon Targrayen. The Rouge Prince. A Targaryen Prince through and through. A dashing warrior, the greatest swordsman in all the Seven Kingdoms, and a dragonrider as well. Laena had always wanted a husband like him. She dreamed about their children having their own dragons and one day rule Driftmark. She was her father's eldest child, she should be heir and not her younger brother Laenor. Her children should be her heirs, heirs to Driftmark and the Driftwood Throne. And they would get their rightful position and their birthright. Every child of hers and Daemon would be granted an egg, she was sure of it.

Laenor would still be the King Consorts, so there was no problem in making Laena heir over him. Besides Rhaenyra was the heir even though the King and Alicent Hightower had a son together. By Andal tradition Aegon Targaryen should be heir. And through her children, true Velaryon blood would sit on the Driftwood Throne. Since Rhaenyra's sons weren't her brother's they had no Velaryon blood, thus no right to her father's throne.

Everything would have worked out, the Princesses bastards would be heirs to the throne and Daemon's and her children would have inherited her father's legacy, the Velaryon legacy. With Daemon as their father, the Velaryon's would also gain more dragons. She had thought about everything. When she goaded her fiancé to attack Prince Daemon, which resulted in her fiancé's death. Furthermore her father had pressured the Prince for as long as it took to make him agree to wed her in her fiancés place. And he did. He took her to Pentos and they married.

But she had been bitterly disappointed. She didn't manage to truly seduce him. The Prince had slept with her on their wedding night. And after that never again. Every time she tried to get him to bed her he outright refused. Either he was not home or he had locked his door so she couldn't enter. Many nights she made him drunk on purpose, so it would be easier to seduce him. But even in his drunken state, he refused to heed her whims. Not even once she managed to bed him again. She became enraged with him, he was famous for sleeping with every woman he could find. He even did so in Pentos, right under her nose. In her own home. (Even if the palace was owned by a friend of Prince Daemon.) But she couldn't say anything or complain to the Prince.

So she did the next best thing, she also took a lover. Multiple lovers, she thought that would finally grab the Princes attention. But he didn't care. He let her be and she continued to sleep with other man. She slept with men of Valyrian ancestry, Dornish ancestry and Andal ancestry. Her genes as a Velaryon were dominant, so she wasn't worried about becoming pregnant. Her child would look like her and no one would be able to question its parentage. Daemon Targaryen would accept her child as his own, when it came into the world looking like Laena.

She had thought he would be doting on her once she informed him of her pregnancy. But no such thing happened. He was as disinterested as before, maybe even more. He avoided her and left her alone. Did nothing to help her in this troubling time of her life. He would never dot on her or even care about her, because he longed for another woman. He longed for his own niece, the Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her brother's wife.

Which made her even angrier. By the gods she was the Lady of the realms richest house, she could give him a name, their children would have inherited the Driftwood Throne, because her younger brother was incapable of siring children on any woman. Because he liked men. Had Prince Daemon wedded the princess their children would never have inherited anything. Because the Queen's eldest son would be crowned the King's heir sooner or later. Her cousin's sons would never ascend the Throne after her. Rhaenyra would never sit the Throne after her father passed. But Laena's children would rule High Tide. Because Laenor had no children.

Nevertheless she enjoyed making her cousin miserable by writing letters to Laenor in which she detailed how wonderful her life was. Though she wrote down how she wished it was, and not the truth of it. If she was miserable while being married to Prince Daemon, then her cousin should be equally miserable. It had helped to know Rhaenyra would never birth a legitimate heir, not to Laenor at least.

When the news of the Crown Princesses pregnancy reached Laena she had been angry. Everyone would know that the princesse's child was not of her brother's seed. She would be dethroned, shamed and sent away. Then Prince Daemon would finally look her way and acknowledge her as his wife. But she was wrong again, the realm celebrated the brith of the Crown Princesses black haired sons. All of them but the Queens supporters.

Gods how could people be so blind? Didn't they see the Princes had black hair and not her brother's silver or the Princesses Silver golden hair? It was clear as day that these two babies were bastards. Though she couldn't fault her cousin for searching for pleasure elsewhere. She had hoped to make Rhaenyra jealous while she was on Driftmark, but she scarily saw her cousin. Her brother was always by her side, doting on her, like the rest of the castle's staff and her family. But the Crown Princess merely attended the family dinners, Laena's father insisted upon. Otherwise she was inside her son's nursery or the library. Laena never stepped foot inside her so-called nephew's nursery, because she had no interest in doing it. She didn't want to meet the boys that the Princess pretended to be her brother's.

The princess had only ever been polite when she came across her, giving her well wishes and exchanged pleasantries. She wasn't easily riled up and avoided conversation as best as she could. Laena also observed her cousin's and mother's interaction. The younger Princess was polite, while her mother was cold and indifferent. Rhaenyra avoided Laena's mother Rhaenys the best she could. As much as it delighted Laena to see the princess tense and unhappy, she was miserable as well. Once again Prince Daemon was only focused on his niece. His eyes always on her. But now she had other problems. Since three whole hours she tried to bring her child into the world.

"Mother, it hurts.", the Lady wailed, her stomach clenching ones more. The Princess held her daughter's hand and wiped the sweat off her forehead. "All will be well. Soon you will have your babe in your arms.", Rhaenys tried to soothe her daughter. Who would not be calmed and kept screaming. Lord Velaryon's wife snapped at the Maesters. "Why is it taking so long? What is wrong?" "Princess the Lady's labours have begun to soon. She shouldn't be giving birth for another moon. Her labours are so hard and painful because it isn't the right time.", the Maester tried to explain.

Laena knew he was lying, because it was the right time. One week earlier than it actually should have happened, but she was farmer along than she tried to make people believe. Because she kept her pregnancy hidden for as long as she could to surprise Prince Daemon, though he never even considers her child could be his.

"Then do something to lessen my daughter pain. You were trained for treating pain. So do something!", she ordered sternly, glaring at the Maesters. We have given her as much Milk of the Poppy as we could. More would endanger both her Ladyships and her child's life.", the Maester explained, shallowing thickly while being glared at. "Then do something else!", Rhaenys commanded. "Mother, mother.", Laena gasped out. "What is it my pearl?", her mother asked. "I want Daemon here. Now." Her mother scowled a little but indulged her nevertheless. "You want him here and come he shall."

"You there.", the princess said. A servant looked up. "Yes my princess?" "Inform Lord Corlys, that our daughter wants the child's father with her. Let him dispatch guards to bring Prince Daemon here. This instant.", she ordered the poor scared servant. "As you command my princess." The servant boy left with a low bow and hurried out of the room. He informed the Velaryon patriarch of his daughter's wish and of course he dispatched one of his guards right away.

The Velaryon guard searched for the prince, first in his chambers, then in the library, then the dinner hall. He was nowhere to be found. Then, by chance he ran into two other Velaryon household guards. The two who normally guarded the nursery door of Lord Laenor and Crown Princess Rhaenyra's twin sons. They merely informed him that the Rouge Prince had come and send them away. Now he knew where to find the prince.

He was aware the Rouge Prince was a dangerous person, he couldn't understand how Lord Corlys and Princes Rhaenys could let their daughter marry such a Rouge. He interrupted the conversation between the Crown Princess and the Prince and informed the Lady Laena's husband of her desire. But Prince Daemon didn't move a muscle. Instead he just barked at the Velaryon guard. "Tell Lady Laena that I will not be coming. Men have nothing to do in the birthing chamber." Fearful of incurring the Rouge Princes wrath, the guard fled the room.

Informing his Lord and his Lord's heir of the Prince's response. Lord Corlys was raging loudly at the disrespect the Prince was showing the Lord's daughter. Lady Laena was his wife, but Daemon Targaryen cared not and was where he wanted to be the most. With his niece. Lord Laenor on the other hand remained silent, as if he didn't care that the Rouge Prince was alone with his wife and his sons.

The same servant boy that informed the Lord of House Velaryon of his daughter's desire now had to inform the Lady that her husband would not be coming. But Lady Laena was too focused on her pain to understand the servant's words. Princess Rhaenys on the other hand was enraged and felt insulted. How could her cousin insult her daughter, his lawful wife like that?

Her Laena was a respectable Lady of the realms richest house. She had Targaryen blood flowing in her veins and was a dragonrider. She rode her late uncle's Baelon Targaryen's, mount. Vhagar, the Queen of all dragons. Instead of being by his wife's side he followed after the princess Rhaenyra. The girl that shamed her family with giving birth to bastards. She would be sure to address that later with her cousin. Though Rhaenys was sure Daemon would lose interest in the Princess Rhaenyra once his own child was born. She couldn't be more wrong.

After hours and hours of the torturous pains of giving birth, the first babe was born. A sturdy boy, with brown hair. After him followed a much smaller second babe. A girl. Also brown haired. Laena didn't care that her children had brown hair, it could easily be explained, her mother had dark hair after all. The new mother held her son in her arms and didn't pay attention to her newborn daughter. One of the midwifes was still holing her. "Call my husband in.", Princess Rhaenys ordered.

The Maesters informed both Lord Corlys and his heir Laenor that Lady Laena had successfully given birth to a boy and a girl. Thrilled to hear that both men entered Laena's room. Her mother was sitting beside her daughter, who was now carrying her grandson. Her granddaughter still in the arms of a midwife. Corlys went to his wife and daughter while Laenor kept his distance and approached the midwife. Unlike his father he had realized that his sister was only holding her newborn son. So he took his niece in his arms.

He smiled down at her and didn't care for her brown hair. His sons also had a different hair colour, so there was nothing wrong with that. But then he nearly let his newborn niece fall out of his arms. He gasped and looked at his niece's eyes in shock. They didn't resemble Laena's or Daemons. On the contrary, they looked complete different. The newborn girl had neither violet or purple eyes nor blue ones. Hers were brown, nearly black. His niece wasn't Daemon's daughter. Because even with his mother's parentage he couldn't explain the girls brown/black eyes. His and Rhaenyra's sons had the typical Targrayen eyes, inherited from Rhaenyra's mother and grandfather.

His sister had been pregnant with another man's child. Not with Daemon Targaryen's child. Laenor became paler when the fact settled inside his mind. Otherwise his niece would have looked more like a Targrayen or Velaryon. She looked neither. She looked more like an Andal. He was torn out of his shock when he heard Laena's screaming. "Why isn't he breathing?" Looking over to his sisters where she was laying in bed he became even more pale.

Maesters fluttered around his newborn nephew and he saw a glimpse of him. He had the same hair as his sister. "Do something!", his father demanded. The Maesters and midwifes were trying to do something while his mother distracted Laena, who wailed for her boy. She wanted him back in her arms. But Rhaenys stopped her daughter and was embracing her.

Laenor's ears were ringing and he could barely hear anything. At one point a midwife collected his niece so he wouldn't let her slip out of his arms. He slowly walked over to his screaming and crying sister. Passing the Maesters in the process. He caught his nephews eyes. They were open, but dull and lifeless. And a deep brown, blackish colour. He turned and sat down beside his sister, assisting his mother in soothing her.

Meanwhile Lord Corlys stood near the Maesters as they tried to save his grandson. One of them informed him, that the newborn boy had trouble breathing. And he wasn't crying. The room was deathly silent. Besides his daughter's wails to bring back her boy. He passed the Maesters and looked down on his grandson. One of his hands hovering above the little boys belly. Shock shot through the Velaryon patriarch. “Father, what is wrong with my son? Father, answer me!”, the Lords daughter screamed. “Corlys?!”, the Lord’s wife demanded. But he didn’t hear either of them, he simply stared in the lifeless eyes of his grandsons. His lifeless brown blackish eyes.

“My condolences Milord there was nothing we could do to safe him.”, one of the elder Maesters said and bowed in apology. “NO, my son is alive, bring me my son!”, Lady Laena screeched. “Laena my love please calm yourself.”, Rhaenys whispered. “My boy mother, my son.”, the new mother wailed. “Get Milk of the Poppy now!” Rhaenys managed t make the historic Laena drink Milk of the Poppy and the Velaryon Lady went to sleep.

“Lord Corlys.”, a midwife approached him. “Yes?”, he snapped. “Here is your granddaughter.”, the midwife presented the Lord of High Tide with a small bundle. He peered inside the blanket, his granddaughter looked exactly like her brother. And nothing like her parents. This girl and his dead grandson weren’t of Daemon Targaryen’s seed. His newest grandchildren were bastards.

Chapter Text

Princess Rhaenys Targrayen, daughter of Prince Aemon Targaryen and Lady Jocelyn Baratheon always thought she would be ten steps ahead of everyone. She was raised to be her father’s heir. She would have been Queen after her father. If only he wasn’t shot by a stray arrow. Then her uncle was selected as the Heir to the Iron Throne over her. After her Uncle’s death, the Lords picked her cousin Viserys over her. Not because he would have been a better monarch as her, but because he was easily led and manipulated by others. And also because he was backed by his younger brother.

Her cousin Daemon had assembled an army to defend his brother’s claim. None wanted to march against the Rouge Prince. So with the threat of Daemon the Lords decided to forsake Rhaenys and robbed her of her birthright once more. Viserys was made King after their Grandfathers death, but he had no son as his heir. His only child from her cousin Aemma was a girl. Rhaenyra Targaryen. Who was now Heir to the Iron Throne. And unlike their Grandfather, Viserys had not changed the succession the moment his son was born.

Rhaenys had often been slighted by her own blood. First she was slighted twice by her grandfather, once by Daemon, when he refused to side with her. And by Viserys, when he chose his Hands daughter, a mere daughter of a second son of a minor House, over her Laena. A girl whose bloodline belonged to two of the oldest Valyrian Houses, to two of the total three Valyrian Houses left. She was a beauty and the daughter of the richest House of the Realm.

Viserys mended the slight when he agreed to a marriage between her son Laenor and his heir Princes Rhaenyra. Rhaenys wasn’t a fool, she knew Corlys had married her in hopes to become King, in hopes of his children becoming eirs to the Throne. In hope of having his Blood on the Throne. But she didn’t fault him for that. She wanted the same. So Corlys and she forced their son to wed the Crown Princess.

Honestly the Targaryen Princess had hoped her son would be able to sire children, so her blood would have a chance to get on the throne. But she also knew he wasn’t really capable of laying with a woman. Either way, she was sure the arrogant young princess would be ursupered before she could ascend the throne. Or would be tossed aside by her father once her half-brother reached a certain age.

But then the princess pregnancy was announced, many moons after their marriage. So many moons that Rhaenys had thought the married couple wouldn’t even try. Nevertheless she was aware the child in Rhaenyra’s womb could never be her sons. So she remained distant from the young girl. But her husband and she remained in Kingslanding. They and her cousin Viserys were the first to see the princess child after the princess, Maesters and midwifes. Rather the children. The heiress to the Throne had birthed not one child, but two. And both were boys.

But boys dark haired, though the younger had a few silver streaks in his. Both born with eyes belonging to dead members of the Targrayen lineage. The oldest had her cousin Aemma’s eye colour, the youngest eyes looked identical to her late Uncle Baelon. All in all, the two babes were practical the mirrors of Aemma and Baelon. 

She saw nothing of her son in her so-called grandsons features. Even though her cousin and her son commented on the oldest having his curls. She saw the two boys for what they were, bastards of the Crown Princess. Whose birth would be the arrogant princesses doom. It was hard to be accepted by the nobility before her bastards were born, now however it would be near impossible.

In addition her son was forced to endure the humiliation to treat those boys as if they were his own. And her husband had made the princesses second born his heir the minute he held him in his arms. Unlike her Lord Husband she refused and avoided holding those babes or spend time with them. They weren’t her grandchildren, so she saw no need to spent time with them. Her husband on the other hand spent every free minute he got with those two boys while they were in Kingslanding. He was already planning for the time when the second born dark haired boy, Baelon, would become the ward of Driftmark. Regarding her so-called grandsons the princess decided their names, her son most likely just went along with it. She had hoped that her son would at least name the boys something more Velaryon. But Baelon and Aerion were both pure Targrayen names.

Because of the princesses adulatory she had no grandchildren at the moment. Which was also the reason she was so overjoyed to hear the news of her Laena being pregnant. So her daughter had truly managed to capture the Rouge Princes attention. Rhaenys always thought Daemon would forever be focused on Rhaenyra. But it had seemed as if she was wrong and her Laena managed to secure her younger cousin. She had thought he would be smitten with her daughter, but she should have known better. As soon as her cousin and daughter arrived at High Tide she knew her daughter had not managed to keep Daemon’s attention.

Her cousin had greeted her husband and Rhaenys shortly and left to stake his claim to one of the rooms near to the library. He complety ignored his pregnant wife. Rhaenys knew then that he simply impregnated her and lost interest then. And he still was more focused on the Princess than his own Lady Wife. Her assumptions were confirmed when her son and good-daughter arrived at Driftmark's shores. Daemon only had eyes for Rhaenyra. When she arrived, when the family was forced to dine together on Corlys wish or when they simply brushed past each other. And he all but avoided Laena and anything regarding the pregnancy. He secluded himself inside the library or was busy with searching for the princess to talk to her.

She was angry with her cousin for prioritizing his niece over his wife, but there was nothing she could do. Besides she had her daughter to worry about. Laena had confessed to her that she was further along then she let others believe. Nevertheless Rhaenys was panicking when her daughter suddenly went into labour when she was told Prince Daemon declined another invitation to her rooms, responding that he was busy with important matters. All Velaryon’s knew he meant he would try to talk to the Crown Princess again. Rhaenys could never understand her cousin. How he could cast aside the mother of his child for his niece, who didn’t even want to talk to him. 

But even in her hours of need, Daemon did not come to her daughter’s side. When she fought to give birth to his child. Having to watch her daughter’s pain for hours made her anxious and worried. The Maesters feared that the birth would last days because her daughter’s labour began far too early. Finally after hours they welcomed her two grandchildren into the world. A new generation of Velaryon’s, even though their surename would be Targaryen, because of their father. Another generation of Velaryon dragonriders, which also meant more dragonriders for House Velaryon.

Caught in the joy of finally being an actual grandmother to true-born Velaryon’s she didn’t notice the twins dark brown hair. Or the fact that they didn’t bear a once of resemblance to either her cousin or her daughter.

Dragons were what gave power to a House, and House Velaryon possessed more dragons than House Targaryen. Her Meleys, her Laena’s vhagar and her son Laenor’s Seasmoke and now two new dragonriders. She couldn’t wait for her grandchildren to be grown enough to claim dragons, or if their eggs hatched, should they be gifted with dragon eggs. The princesses sons were bestowed with two eggs, so there was nothing against gifting her actual grandchildren eggs.

However reality tore her out of her dreams. Her daughter’s screams for the Maesters when her newborn grandson was heavily breathing. All of Driftmarks Maesers tried to help the little boy. Their future Lord. She loved her son, but he would be Prince consort and had no legitimate heirs, so his sister’s legitimate son would be made heir, she was sure. Minutes passed, in which her poor daughter wailed for her son. But the gods were cruel and once again showed no mercy on her family. Her daughter’s son, her grandson, took his last breath mere minutes after taking his first one.

Laena had been so distraught that the Maesters were forced to give her Milk of the Poppy. She sat beside her sleeping daughter watching over her, while Laenor left to grieve his nephew and watch over him while the Silent Sisters prepared him for a funeral. Her husband was with their surviving grandchild. Their still nameless granddaughter. The daughter that would be promised to Baelon. So even though he was a bastard true Velaryon blood would sit on the Driftwood Throne through their granddaughter.

Rhaenys left her sleeping daughter to join her husband watching over their granddaughter. She found Corlys frowning and with a dark expression and stiff posture hovering above the newborn girl. “Our daughter husband should be informed Corlys. Of his son’s passing. He should be by Laena’s side.”, she said, coming to stand beside him. But her eyes were on her husband not her grandchild. “He isn’t Daemons son Rhaenys.” “Corlys what are you saying?”, she exclaimed. “The boy wasn’t of Daemons seed.”, he explained, as if it was obvious. “Of course he was. Laena would never sleep with any other man than her husband.”, she defended her daughter.

“She obviously did. The dead boy and her daughter aren’t Daemons children. They bear no resemblance to him. None at all.”, he answered. “You are accusing our daughter of adultery Corlys. The boy and the girl may not have Daemon’s features, but the princesses sons also bear none of our son’s features.”, she hissed. “You are blinded by your hatred Rhaenys. We both know Aerion and Baelon do resemble Laenor a bit.”, he defended his grandsons. The Targaryen princess scoffed. “Even if they did not, they at least bear a striking resemblance to their mother. Our grandsons have Targaryen eyes. A feature our daughter’s children don’t have.”

“What nonsense are you speaking about?”, she asked bewildered. “Our daughter gave birth to a boy and girl with brown hair….”, he started, but Rhaenys interrupted him. “I have dark hair husband. I’m half Baratheon.”, she reminded him. “Daemon is a pure blooded Targrayen, they should have had black hair if they were his children.” “They surely have Targaryen or Velaryon eyes!” “No they do not. Unlike our grandsons they have blackish eyes. They have no Valyrian features at all.” “What are you saying Corlys?”, she snapped. “Our daughter gave birth to bastards!”, he screamed. Rhaenys stepped back and glared at him, but instead of speaking further with him, she looked down on her granddaughter. Who was awake and stared back at her. With big brown, blackish eyes.

She gasped and had to hold onto the cradle her granddaughter was lying in. “Laena birthed two bastards and Daemon knows it. That is why he refused to be near here while she was pregnant.”, Corlys continued. Rhaenys wasn’t listening to her husband any more. “He will either kill her or even worse divorce her for that. And there is nothing we can do about that. Not even the King would be able to deny that our daughter surviving daughter isn’t of Daemon’s seed. Not even Otto Hightower could stopp an annulment of the marriage on the grounds of adultery.” 

The Queen who never was knew that, but she was too busy with processing what her husband had just revealed, to answer him. Minutes passed in utter silence, before Rhaenys caught herself and straightened up. “Then we have to make Daemon claim our granddaughter as his own.”, she said. “There is no possible way to make Daemon claim the girl as his. He will never agree to anything we offer.” “Then we have to do something else to make him claim her!”, she exclaimed. “And what could we possibly do? Threaten him?!”, her husband asked. “If we have to. If we don’t this, it would mean disgrace for our daughter Corlys. When the realm’s people accept Princess Rhaenyra’s bastards as our son’s true-born children, then they will believe if Daemon claims Laena’s daughter as his own.“, she responded. 

“You aren’t foolish enough to think you ave anything to threaten Daemon with do you?”, he scoffed. “There is always Rhaenyra. She is the person who is most important to Daemon.” “Rhaenys you speak of harming the Heiress to the Throne. That is treason. She is also our grandsons mother!” “Those Princes are no grandsons of mine!” “You are denying obvious facts wife. Rhaenyra’s boys have Velaryon blood. Our son’s blood. Our granddaughter has Laena’s blood but not Daemons. Our granddaughter is a bastard. She is a bastard, who doesn’t have our houses appearance. No one would believe our claim she is Daemon’s true-born daughter!”, he shouted. 

“What should we do then?”, she questioned. Never in the Seven Hells would she sit by and see her daughter be shamed she wouldn’t le Daemon divorce her, even though she knew if the King decided her daughters child wasn’t his brother’s there was nothing she could do to shield her Laena from the gossip. “We make a move before Daemon hears anything. We speak to Laenor and betrothed our granddaughter to the princesses second son. If Laenor agrees, even Princess Rhaenyra won’t be able to say otherwise.”, he answered. 

“Are you sure. Our son may be her husband, but she is the crown Princess, Viserys heiress.”, she murmured, not completely sure. “Viserys will agree, if only to further mend the slight he dealt.”, was her husbands answer. He took hold of their granddaughter and then placed her in Rhaenys arms. Yes Corlys was right. If they proposed a union of Laena’s daughter and the princess's second son to Laenor and Viserys they would decide over the princesses head. Viserys would use his daughter’s son as a pawn to quell the Velaryons anger. Like he used his daughter as one. 

"We have to try or otherwise our daughter’s actions doomed our House.”, her husband murmured. He left the room closely followed by Rhaenys, who was holding her granddaughter in her arms. They walked to the other side of the castle. To the two Princes nursery. The Velaryon guards were in position once again, which meant Daemon had left and wasn’t there any more. So either Laenor was alone with the two boys or he and Rhaenyra were there. If Rhaenyra was present, Rhaenys would make sure the princess would remain silent and that she would have no chance protesting the match. The Queen that never was, was aware of the effect she had on the younger woman. That the princess felt intimidated by her and avoided her as best as she could.

They entered the nursery, when the guards stepped aside. “Father, mother, what brings you here. Shouldn’t you be with Laena?”, Laenor greeted them. He was sitting on a chair beside the cradle. The princess had insisted that her twins share a cradle. “We have something we wish to discuss with you.”, her husband answered. “It cannot wait. It regards your niece.”, Rhaenys added.

“Has something happened to her?”, he asked worried, standing up from his position next to the cradle. He strode over to them, before either of his parents could answer. Without even asking he took Laena’s daughter from Rhaenys arms. “No she is in good health. The Maesters say if she survives the next few days, she will continue to live.”, Corlys answered. Unlike the girl's brother.

“What is it then? It was a long day and it’s already late.”, Laenor said, rocking his niece. “She seems fine.”, he said, checking her temperature. “She is not in danger of dying right now, but we have an urgent request son.”, Her Lord Husband started. “Is the princess here?”, the Queen who never was asked first, before her husband could continue. “No, she isn’t, she is w….”, her husband interrupted their son. “Then would you hear us out?” “Fine, but please be quick. What do you want to discuss?”, their son sighed.

“We want you to betrothed your second son to your niece.” “What?! Father where does that come from?”, Laenor looked at his parents, confused and wary. “Her appearance won’t make it easy for her. Betrothed to the future Lord of the Tides will make her the Lady of the Tides.” “You are trying to hide Laena’s mistake then.”, he guessed. “Your sister didn’t make a mistake!”, Rhaenys exclaimed. “What else would you call sleeping with someone else and birthing children who obviously don’t take after their supposed father?”, Laenor asked, raising an eyebrow. Evading his mother, who tried to take Laena’s daughter back into her arms. Now he stood two feet away from his father and opposite to his mother.“Laenor, that is your sister and niece you are talking about?”, Rhaenys scolded her son.

“I am aware of that mother. But however you are trying to turn this, fact is Laena gave birth to a bastard of a Dornish or Andal man. If you don’t have anything to blackmail Daemon with, so that he would claim my niece, then I don’t think you can get Laena out of this mess she made. And even if you have something to blackmail Daemon with, I would advise against doing so. Even with Daemons claim, no one will believe you that Laena’s child is also Daemon’s.”, he guessed.

“That is why we are asking you to betrothed Baelon and her. So she will be safe from the gossip. Please Laenor do it for your sister!”, Rhaenys pleaded with her son. “Laena got herself into this mess. She has to get out of it herself. If you shield her, you are dragging yourself down with her.”, he answered. “Laenor, we are talking about your sister and your niece!”, exclaimed the young man’s father.

“Yes we do indeed. But I cannot help you father, mother.” “Why ever can you not?!”, Rhaenys hissed at her son. “I have a family mother. If I agree, not only will Rhaenyra be horrible cross, but I will drag my son down with it as well.” “You would let the court shame your sister and niece then?”, she yelled. “I am a father now, mother. Rhaenyra would kill me if she found out I sold our son's hand.”, he stated calmly. “The princess isn’t even here. You have the last say, you are his father.”

“That may be so father. But I cannot decide over her head. She is angry enough already, I have no desire to anger her further. Besides, my wife would never agree to the betrothal.”, their son responded. “By the Seven, Laenor she gave birth to two bastards herself!” “I told you and father a hundred times already, Aerion and Baelon are mine! If you don’t want to believe me, fine don’t. But do not attempt to drag my son into my sisters mess. Find another way to safe her reputation.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”, she asked, enraged. “You will figure something out to safe your golden child.”, was his answer. “How can you see with the princess over your own blood?!”, she hissed. “Because unlike my so-called blood, she doesn’t expect me to change!” “She is the woman who parades bastards around as your sons Laenor! And you defend her when you should side with your sister. Rhaenyra is stealing Daemon from Laena! She is nothing more than an arrogant, spoiled, selfish woman who will bring our downfall!”

“Mother!”, Laenor exclaimed, looking stunned at his mother's outburst. “Rhaenys!”, her husband hissed warningly, staring at something behind her back.

“How careless of you, not to check your surroundings.”, drawled a deep, dark voice behind her. The Velaryon patriarch spun around and came face to face with her cousin. Daemon stood a few feet away, dressed in pure black and one hand on his famous Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister. Rhaenys went white as a sheet, he had heard it all! By the gods, what now?! “Now, I think it is time we have a talk cousin.”, Daemon grinned wickedly, as if he had read her thoughts. Rhaenys gulped at the familiar dangerous glint in his eyes. In all the years she hadn’t been in contact with Daemon and avoided every news of him, she nearly forgot just how cunning he would be. Rhaenys had just dug her own grave.

Chapter Text

In the years his cousin had been living with Corlys, a man she could occasionally manipulate, and dealt with Viserys, his brother who was focused on pleasing everybody, she had obviously forgotten what it meant to deal with him. He wasn't like Corlys or Visery, he wasn't weak or blinded by ambition, he was driven by the instinct to protect. And he had heard Rhaenys threaten and shame Rhaenyra. Something he wouldn't allow anyone to do to his Rhaenyra.

It was said that Targaryen's were more Gods than Men, that they were similar to their mounts. And in his case, Daemon agreed to the history records. He was truly similar to his Bloody Wyrm, he was as temperamental as Caraxes, loved violence and chaos, but he also sought to protect those he loved the most. But he had given up on trying to protect his older brother, because Viserys didn't want his protection. None of his family members wanted his protection.

They didn't understand that he only craved to be the shield and sword of their family. His father didn't understand, his grandmother didn't understand, his grandfather didn't understand, not even his brother understood him. Only one member of his family did. Rhaenyra.

She let him fret over her smallest injuries, let him watch over her when she was sick, even though the castle had dozens of Maesters and maids to attend her. His niece didn't complain or thought that his worry was something other than worry. She was happy to spent time with him. Hours of reading to each other. He had lost count of how many Valyrian tales he had told her.

His niece was oh so eager to learn from him. He had taught her their ancestral language. Valyrian was their ow language. Barely anyone was able to speak it any more. The only other two people who would be able to understand were Rhaenys and Viserys.

Both their Valyrian definitely rusty, since neither of them used it much. Corlys could speak a bit, but not much, the Targaryen's were the only ones besides the Dragonkeepers that actively used Valyrian. The Velaryon's and Celtigars did not even thought about teaching their offspring about their ancestral language or culture. They had adopted the culture and beliefs of Westeros. But his family still worshipped the Fourteen Flames. At least Rhaenyra and he did.

He didn't doubted a single second that his niece would teach her sons about their ancestry. She even sang to them in Valyrian. Her voice as soft and melodic as he remembered. But otherwise she didn't speak Valyrian with him. He would have time to find out about it later, for now he was focused on regaining her trust. He had seen in her hesitance to leave him alone with her children that she didn't trust him. So he would simply have to work hard to earn her trust back.

However at the moment he had other matters that were important at hand. How to deal with his scheming cousin and her greedy husband. Staring down the Velaryon patriarch and his wife he completely ignored Laenor. Who didn't seem to like his presence here. "What are you doing her Daemon?", he questioned. "What does it look like I'm doing here?!", he snarked back.

His cousin's son looked like he thought Daemon would run him through with his sword any moment now. Not that he hadn't thought about it, Laenor's death would certainly make things easier. But Rhaenyra would be cross with him if he killed her husband. So he made no move on Laenor, he was safe for now. Which still wasn't a guarantee for later. One way or another, he would get rid of him.

“What are you doing in my grandson's nursery Daemon?”, Corlys asked him stiffly. Once he had respected the man, looked up to him a bit even. He was years Daemons senior and more experienced in a few things, but now that he knew him better? Gods he wished he hadn’t gone to War for him. Daemon had won the Stepstones for the Velaryon’s and all knew that, nevertheless the Velaryon fucker didn’t seem eager to give him the credit he deserved. True, he had freely given up his crown to his brother, but even that wasn’t enough to stay in the King’s good grace for long.

Daemon had decided two years ago that he didn’t care any more. Not for Viserys or Corlys opinion. The only opinion that mattered to him still was Rhaenyra’s. He had disappointed her far to often, he realized that. When she needed him he hadn’t been there. He left her alone to grieve and survive in the Pit of Vipers, that was his brother’s court. But no more, he would stay firmly by her side. Nothing would hinder him from that. Not his so-called wife (who he would also get rid of eventually), not his good-parents and definitely not his brother. He lost his sweet niece once already, mostly due to his own stupidity, but he wouldn’t let it happen a second time.

Rhaenyra was his and his alone, he would bathe anyone who dared claim her in fire. He had waited long enough. Still he would have to be patient. At least for a little while longer.

“Now they are somehow your grandsons Corlys. Didn’t your wife just now accused the princess of cheating on her husband?”, he mussed. Tilting his head, lazily playing with the hilt of his sword. Dark Sister was once Visenya Targrayen’s sword, a sword passed down from generation to generation. His father had been its owner before him, until his grandfather Jaehaerys bestowed him with the sword on the day he was made a knight.

“They have been my grandsons from the day they were born into this world.” The old Lord answered. Once upon a time Corlys Velaryon had been a young warrior, but now he was past his prime. Unlike Daemon himself, who was in his prime. “Then pray tell who brought your grandsons into this world? Tell me.”, he demanded. Barely keeping himself from smirking when he saw Rhaenys tremble. He knew his cousin was angry, but she also was scared. Rhaenys was aware that he heard everything she and Corlys conspired to do. She knew he would never allow her to harm his beloved and that he would never let himself be made a fool by their attempts.

At least his cousin’s son had shown he did have a spine. Not a particularly strong one, but better than nothing. Truly he thought Laenor would indulge his parents and agree to their demand. If only to safe his sister. It seemed he underestimated him. Or Rhaenyra had simply scared him enough to make him think twice before deciding anything about Aerion’s and Baelon’s future. His sweet niece wasn’t a child any more. Hadn’t been in many years.

She was a woman grown and a mother of two children. No one crossed a mother dragon and got away unharmed. Not even Daemon would. If he so much as even uttered one word, that seemed like a threat to her, she would somehow manage to kill him. Or at least give him a clear warning not to touch her sons.

Really it was a bit of a shame that she was so attached to her firstborn and second born. He would have preferred it, if all of her children were his own. Even if that meant to kill her sons first. Alas, there was nothing he could do. He was aware that a part of his nieces heart and soul would die, should anything happen to one of her, or the Fourteen Flames forbid, both of her boys. And he didn’t want to destroy her. No, he loved her all fiery and stubborn. His little dragon, a Targaryen through and through. For now only a princess, someday a Targaryen Queen.

He had heard someone say that a parent didn’t love anything more than their firstborn child. Or in Rhaenyra’s case, firstborn children. So no, he wouldn’t hurt these small boys. Still too small to defend themselves or their mother. Too small to do either of those two things for years and years. Not that he would let the boys be their mother’s shield or sword. That was his purpose. He was responsible for Rhaenyra’s protection.

“Princess Rhaenyra.”, the Sea Snake said through gritted teeth. Daemon chuckled under his breath. “Correct Snake. Crown Princess Rhaenyra, the Heiress to the Throne is your grandsons mother. But I just witnessed your wife, her boys grandmother slander both the heir and her heirs. Do you know what I would call such slanders?”, he asked, amused by the stiff posture of all three Velaryon’s.

Laenor had pressed his niece tighter against his chest, trying to hide the small girl from Daemon. Trying and failing to not remind him of Laena’s dumb mistake. But he wasn’t finished with his parents, he would deal with the Sea Snake's son and daughter later. “I would call such slanders treasonous words. Words that your wife could be executed for.”, he drawled. “Do not speak of me as if I’m not in the room Daemon!”, Rhaenys screeched. Now the younger Targaryen openly grinned, he had waited for her outburst. “I’m well aware of your presence here Rhaenys. I know you came up with that little scheme of yours to safe your daughter’s skin.”, he responded, staring her down, piercing her with his violet-purple Typical Targaryen eyes.

“She is also your wife!”, she reminded him. “Hm, I imagine not for long any more. Not that I longed for her to begin with.”, he shrugged. Satisfaction ran through him when Corlys had to physically hold his wife back, so she wouldn’t do something stupid like attacking him. He loved annoying people, until they lost their temper. “Then why did you marry her in the first place? Why did you have to make her do something so shameless?”, she asked, enraged.

“Now now cousin. Don’t make me the villain here. I didn’t encourage your daughter to bed other men. I didn’t force her to get pregnant with another man’s child. I didn’t even force her to marry me. You two were just foolish enough to think she would be interesting to me. You filled your daughter’s head with thinking she deserves a Targaryen husband. You are at fault for the path that your daughter took.”, he retired, crossing his arms and leaning against the twin boys crib. Making Laenor tense even more. He must be fearing for his sons.

Probably thought he would kill the innocent boys, so he could then get rid of Laenor and claim Rhaenyra for himself. As much as he wanted to do that, Rhaenyra had been obvious in her love for the twins. What his sweet niece loved he would love and protect. What lightened her heart and gave her joy to smile he would keep alive. And the twins did exactly that. Therefore, he had no reason to harm the children. Laenor was another story.

“She is a Targaryen. She deserves a husband of our Houses blood.”, Rhaenys defended. “Be honest cousin, you know she is more Velaryon than Targaryen. You yourself are only half Targaryen. You wanted her to marry Viserys, you thought her worthy of being Westeros next Queen.”, he scoffed. “My daughter is a dragonrider, a Valyrian woman and born into Westeros’s richest House. Of course she deserves to be the next Queen!”

“That is where you are wrong. Your daughter wasn’t worthy of becoming the next Queen. And she never will. Neither was nor is the Hightower whore.”, he answered. “Who in your opinion is worthy of being Queen then?”, his cousin asked, posture trembling with rage. Her husband and son remained silent, watching Daemon’s hand. Clever men, but it was pointless. They would never be fast enough to safe Rhaenys from his sword’s wrath. If he decided to draw his sword and soak it in her blood.

“You know my answer. Until Rhaenyra is crowned Queen there is only one Queen of Westeros I will acknowledge. My cousin Aemma.” “Aemma was half Targrayen herself. Rhaenyra is the same as my daughter!”, his cousin exclaimed. Her husbands hand still firmly holding her arm. “Tsk. Again you’re wrong. Aemma married a Targrayen. A king. My niece has more Targaryen blood inside her veins than you do. As have her children.”, he reminded her. “They are half Targaryen as well. They have brown hair.”, she tried to reason. “Thanks to your son they are three-quarter Targaryen, one half Velaryon and one quarter Baratheon. More worthy of riding a dragon than your children.” “Do not insult my children!” “Oh please cousin. We both know Grandfather only agreed to give you two eggs, because grandmother begged him to and to soothe the pain of being overlooked. Not that it helped much. Your daughter egg didn’t hatch, and your son hasn’t bonded with his dragon until he was thirteen. Their bond barely a decade old.”

“They deserved their eggs, it is a part of their heritage. As does my granddaughter deserve one.” Finally she had admitted what the Velaryon’s goal had been all along. More dragons. None of the houses had any dragons beside House Targrayen and House Velaryon. House Velaryon had three, his House had only two. But Laena wasn’t really a worthy rider of Vhagar and the old she dragon was definitely on her way to perish just like the Black Dread had. Seasmoke and Laenor were inexperience. Yes they had fought in a war, but Caraxes and he did most of the work. And Rhaenyra had a hundred times closer bond to Syrax than Laenor had to Seasmoke.

“No they did not. Their heritage is Velaryon. Your children’s surname is Velaryon. And your bastard granddaughter will never be granted the privilege of receiving an egg. Because she is a bastard, of a Velaryon and not a legitimate member of a Targaryen bloodline.”, he shut her down. But she was persistent. “The King will surely agree, if only to soothe the slight he dealt towards us.”, she said smugly. “How naive of you cousin. To think my brother still has control over the eggs. Besides, whom do you think he would side with. You and your claims that bastard girl is my daughter? Or me his brother who comes to him heartbroken, that his wife cheated on him and gave birth to a bastard?” His cousin was silent. She had lost. Even if there was bad blood between Viserys and Daemon, he would still side with his brother. Especially if he came to him acting heartbroken, betrayed and seeking help.

Daemon wouldn’t be blamed by anyone for his wife’s adultery. No man was ever blamed, it was always the woman. Honestly, it was a little unfair towards the female gender, but that was Westerosi law. A law that benefited Daemon in this particular circumstance. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Of course I would. I do not like being made a fool Rhaenys. And you tried to do such more than once. Do not attempt to lie to me. I know that you and your husband pushed Laena towards me. Encouraged her to manipulate her fiancé in attacking me, so I would kill him and marry her. I admit it would have been better if I had declined her, but thanks to your schemes, you gave me the perfect leverage against you.”

”What are you talking about Daemon?”, Lord Corlys spoke for the first time since he fell silent. “You should address me properly Velaryon. It is Prince Daemon to you.”, he corrected. “You are my son-in-law.” “Not for long. Your foolish daughter ruined her own life. I won’t be bound to her for long.” “What are you planning?”, he asked stiff and worried. Good he should be worried.

“You have two options Velaryon. Either you agree to all of my conditions or I will send Laena to the Silent Sister as soon as possible.” “You cannot do that!”, Rhaenys exclaimed. “I can. I’m her husband. A woman that was proven to be unfaithful to her husband can be sent to the Silent Sister. In fact, I already have letters prepared for both my brother and the Citadel.”, he revealed. “What are your conditions?”, Lord Corlys demanded to know.

“Firstly, that child will be declared a bastard of house Velaryon. She will have no rights to inherited anything, she will not be given an egg either. She will never be allowed to claim a dragon. Secondly, her education, her life is under my supervision. I will decide what happens to her, who will teach her anything, and who she will marry. I’m a generous man, and I will raise my disgraced wife’s daughter. Because she is innocent of the sin her mother committed. Thirdly, you two and every other Velaryon’s or Baratheon’s will have to ask my permission if you wish to spend time with her. If I grant it, you will be watched by guards. We wouldn’t want you telling her anything bad, would we?” He paused for a short moment, relishing in the sheer distraught expression his cousin wore. Then he continued.

”Fourthly, Laena will not be allowed to set foot on any other land than Driftmark. She is not to leave Driftmark under any circumstances. Fifthly, should I hear one of you, especially you Rhaenys or your daughter hear utter a threat or slander towards Rhaenyra or her sons I will not hesitate to strike back. And lastly, should any of you break this agreement, I will send Laena to the Silent Sisters and her child to the Faith to become a Septa.”, he listed his conditions. His expression giving not an ounce of a doubt he didn’t mean every single word.

He did not threaten to divorce Laena, because he knew Rhaenys would rather take that so she could marry her daughter to someone else of influence. Not that Laena would be a problem for much longer. One of his spies, disguised as one of Laena’s attendances, had informed him of the Maesters discovery’s. So he would soon be free of his Velaryon wife. And neither Rhaenys nor Corlys would be able to sell their daughter to the man that benefited them the most.

“How could we agree to such conditions?”, Rhaenys said outraged. “Don’t you think you are exaggerating a bit too much?”, Corlys voiced his opinion. “Either agree Corlys or I will see to it, that your beloved daughter is shipped to the Silent Sisters tomorrow, and you will never see her again. I will give her bastard daughter over to the faith today if you refuse me. I have the upper hand here.”, he said, his lips slipped into a ruthless smile, that promised retribution.

“Fine, we agree.” “Corlys, you cannot…..” “It is decided Rhaenys we can be grateful that Daemon even gives us those conditions.”, her husband silenced her and dragged her out of Rhaenyra’s sons nursery. Not once looking back. “You are cruel Daemon.”, Laenor said, still holding his niece close. “Mayhaps, but your sister was stupid enough to think she could trick me. I do not like being played a fool Laenor. So watch yourself. I do not like it when someone poses as a danger to the people that are important to me.”, he warned him.

“I am not a danger to Rhaenyra!” Clever boy. “Your recklessness and ignorance are a threat to Rhaenyra’s safety. You don’t even try to pretend to be her husband. I know of your behaviour towards Rhaenyra and her sons.”, daemon answered. “They are also my sons!”, Laenor exclaimed agitated. “You seem to remember that awfully late, don’t you think? Really Laenor, you are pathetic. You hide behind Rhaenyra, and my niece shields you. I am aware she has a golden heart and a soft spot for you. But you are damaging her reputation and appearance at court. You play with your lovers in Flea Bottom, uncaring of those who watch you and the harm you do with your careless attitude. And regarding your sons, I deliberately called them Rhaenyra’s sons. She is the one who cares for them. You only acknowledge their existence or even remember it when it suits you.” Daemon scoffed and laid a hand on the cribs. His eyes never leaving Laenor’s.

“What are you doing here Daemon?”, he asked, ignoring the scolding of the older man. Truly if he wished to ignore his warning, Daemon couldn’t care less. He warned him and that was the only warning he would get. “My niece asked me to watch over her boys.”, he answered simply. As if that was the most normal thing in the world.

“Why would she ask that of you?! She knows that I am here.” “That’s the thing Laenor, she doesn’t. My sweet niece relied on you in the Red Keep and was bitterly disappointed. These past two weeks she waited for you to watch your sons. But you didn’t, too busy with your sister. She lost sleep over the boys for the past for moons. She has no trust in you. And she entrusted me with watching over them until she gets back from her well deserved nap.” Laenor took a step back, as if Daemon had given him a slap. “You seem tired and have many things to think about. Go to bed Laenor. I will watch over your sister's bastard child.”

“The Seven Hells will freeze over before I will give her to you!” “Pity. Then you will have to say goodbye to her too. Just as you grieved her brother. You are squeezing the poor child to death.”, he commented. Shocked, the young man looked down on his niece he held tight. She was already red-faced and wiggling, trying to get out of his grip. Then Daemon was there, simply taking her from him. “I won’t repeat myself Laenor. Get out of here.”

Laenor flinched and quickly left the nursery. Not even looking back to his sons. Daemon scoffed and shock his head. He laid the girl down into another crib. That was standing a few feet away from the twin's crib. Rhaenyra had mentioned that Lord Corlys had provided two cribs, but his niece had insisted her boys would share their cradle with each other. He turned back to his great-nephews, finding them still deeply asleep. The heated discussion did not disturb them one bit. He stared at them for minutes, noticing, once again, just how similar they looked to their mother. It seemed the realm would soon have two male Delight’s of the Realm.

Daemon raised his head and his skin prickelnd when another person entered the nursery. “Hello Sweet Niece.”, he greeted, a smile spreading over his lips.

“You cannot be serious Corlys! How could you accept these conditions?!”, Rhaenys screamed at her husband. “What would you have me do then Rhaenys?”, he shouted back. “Anything else. Our daughter will be the talk of the realm because of him!” “No she will be the one gossiped about, because she made a mistake. A fatal mistake, that could cost our House alliances!” “She is our daughter Corlys!” “And we raised her to be smarter than that. It is Laena’s own fault. We can be grateful, that Daemon gave us these conditions to begin with. Otherwise, we would never see out daughter again.”, he said.

“He should have divorced her, then we would be able to marry her to someone who benefited us more.”, she grumbled. “Daemon may be hot-tempered and a violent man Rhaenys. But you should know, that he is a cunning and smart man. He would never divorce her only for us to gain an alliance through her. He has the upper hand here and he knows it. Not only that, but he won’t be fooled by anything.”, he reminded her, sticking his head at his wife’s stubbornness.

Their conversation was interrupted by a Maester. “Mylord, my Princess. I have news.”, he informed them. “What is it Maester? Has something happened to my daughter?”, Rhaenys demanded. “It would be better if you two would come with me to the Lady. These news are in regard to her. I assume the Lady will need her parents support.”, the Maester explained. Confused they followed the elder man, to worried to demand further explanations from him.

When they reached their daughter's chambers, they could hear shouts. “Where is my son? What have you done to my son?” Their daughter was desperately shouting for her dead child. When Corlys and Rhaenys entered, Laena’s attention snapped towards them. “Mother, Father. No one wants to tell my where my son is! What has happened?”, she asked, alarmed. “Oh my love. Laena I’m sorry. Your son took his last breath. He is with our ancestors now.”, Rhaenys whispered, hugging her daughter. Noticing how warm her daughter felt, unnaturally warm. “No, no that cannot be true. You must be lying!”, she screamed, crying out in agony.

While Rhaenys tried to shush their hysterical daughter, Corlys turned to the Maetsers. “So what are your news?”, he asked. Impatient. He had many reports that needed his attention. “Mylord we examined Lady Laena and have discovered that due to her labours beginning early and the difficulty of the birthing process of her children has left its marks.”, one hesitantly began to explain. “What is it?! Out with it already!”, he ordered. “The Lady Laena will be unable to conceive, even if she did manage to conceive a child, it would mean her death in childbirth.”, the elderly Maester declared. Corlys was dumbstruck and stared at the Maesters.

Unknown to the Velaryon’s one of the servants was listening closely, smiling silently. He couldn't wait to deliver those news to his master.

Chapter Text

Corlys Velaryon knew he was an ambitious man. He did not try to hide it. He went on voyage after voyage to build his legacy. He had married the Princess Rhaenys in hopes of becoming King. He wouldn't lie about it. His children would have been in line for the throne. Velaryon blood would be sitting on the Throne. But the foolish Lords of Westeros picked Viserys over his wife. They picked a man easily manipulated as king, instead of a political trained and skilled woman. Because they benefitted from it. Especially Ser Otto Hightower. The King's Lord Hand and good-father.

Corlys blood had been slighted twice by the Targaryens. First when the realm selected Viserys as Crown Prince, a man with only a daughter and no dragon to his name. And a second time when the King picked the Lord Hands daughter over his Laena. Though a few years later, he thought that perhaps it was for the best. Laena had managed to seduce Daemon Targaryen. A man Colrys had thought would never settle down.

And he didn't settle down. Yes he consummated the marriage with his daughter, for months he had thought Laena was pregnant with the Targaryen Princes child. Which would have meant one more potential dragonrider for the Velaryon's. He had been wrong. Laena wasn't pregnant with Daemon's child.

Which was why he had been so distant with Laena all the time, he was aware she would give birth to a bastard. Colrys and Rhaenys had assumed he was only cold and distant since his mother had died because of childbirth. Besides, the birthing chambers were no place for a man. He himself wasn't present the two times his wife had given birth.

He did not get the potential dragon riding grandchildren from Laena, and he knew he never would. (He was aware of Daemmon's cruel nature. He most likely had planned all this since Laena announced the pregnancy. Which was why he did not force her to abort the child, like any other husband would have done in his position.) Laenor on the other hand surprisingly did provide his legacy with two heirs.

It was too bad that his son's oldest son would one day be named Targaryen, instead of Velaryon. If they hadn't agreed to the terms that Viserys had given them in regard to the surename of any future offspring between his son and the princess. Honestly he had his worries over Laenor, because he was aware his son preferred men to women. Which didn't mean he was unable to sire children.

Corlys had met many people on his voyages. A few shared Laenor preferences, nevertheless they had children. When his son married the Princess Rhaenyra, he was prepared to welcome children of Rhaenyra and another man into his family. He was prepared to deal with playing pretend. That the Princesses children would be bastards.

So it was a shock that moons after the weeding, her moonblood still came regularly. He would admit, it had surprised him that she didn't give birth to a child with white, silver, golden hair. She did not, instead four moons ago she gave birth to twin boys. Who barely took after his father. Their skin was as light as their mothers, their pure eyes spoke from a long line of Targaryen's. Their hair on the other hand was dark. Something that worried him at first.

But then he saw little things of Laenor in them. His eldest grandson had Laenor's curls, his curls. The younger had Laenor's calm behaviour. He behaved equally to what Laenor had been as a baby. Otherwise, the two boys looked nearly identical to Aemma Arryn and Baelon Targaryen. Both member of their family long dead, but they would never be forgotten. Corlys was honest when he spoke with respect about the Spring Prince.

Baelon Targaryen would have been a better King than even his father Jaehaerys. Alas, he never had the chance to become King. But now his bloodline ruled. His eldest son ruled as King, and if Viserys had his will his daughter, Baelon’s granddaughter, would rule as Queen after him.

Truly he had been angry when he first heard the announcement of the new heir, but at that point Viserys did not have any other children besides the Princess Rhaenyra. Corlys had nothing against the princess, yes she was a spoiled girl, like his Laena was, nevertheless she also was intelligent, sharp, determined and had a gentle heart. A heart she had without a doubt inherit from her mother.

Queen Aemma Arryn had been half Targaryen and she looked the part. Most of the time the Viserys first wife had been a gentle and kind person, loved by all the realm. The only thing that was whispered behind her back, was that she couldn't do her duty and bear her husband an heir. Though Rhaenys had shared her doubts that that was Aemma's fault.

Corlys himself suspected either the Maesters were at fault or the fact that the King had not given his wife enough rest, before making her carry another child. Still even the gentle, one could almost say docile, Queen Aemma could become a dragon. Especially in regard to her daughter. Many men in Westeros did not understand that Valyrian women, above all Targrayen women, were different from Andal women or the women of the First Men.

Targrayen women had as much fire in their veins as their male counterparts. They could sometimes even be more dangerous than the male Targaryen's. Valyrian women were ten times more beautiful than normal women. And they knew it. They used it to their advantage. Using their otherworldly beauty to make men forget they were intelligent creatures as well.

And gods could Targaryen women be cruel sometimes. And they could become angry. Furious. He had rarely seen Rhaenys truly angry, Aemma Arryn even less. But once he witnessed how even the King flinched away from his wife. It was an incident years ago, when the King tried to forbid Prince Daemon from visiting his sick niece. The Prince had gone to the Queen, who was mourning yet another lost babe, and told her about her husband's degree.

He had never seen Viserys so scared in his whole life. The otherwise gentle Arryn Queen had nearly breathed fire when she heard what her husband did. He had allowed the Maesters to use leeches to try to heal the princess and forbidden her own family to visit her. To make matters worse, he entrusted his sick daughter to the Hightower girl, that was still her lady back then.

Aemma Arryn had thrown the Maesters, the Hightower girl and even the King himself out of her only living child’s room. Only allowing her brother-in-law and his trusted healers near her daughter. Viserys had to grovel for months to be forgiven by his Queen. Whenever anything regarded her only child the docile Arryn woman, became a fire breathing mother dragon.

He saw Aemma in Rhaenyra quite a lot. She looked near identical to her mother when she gave birth to Laenor's twin boys. He had feared she would suffer the same fate as the Queen. That her children would die in their cribs. But he had been wrong to fear. With the same strength Aemma mustered time and time again, the same stubbornness the princess was in her twin's presence day and night. Barely left them alone, trusted few with them. Even when he or her father held her son's she had an eye on them, watching them like a hawk. Or rather like a dragon.

Laenor had written him a few times in the last three months, saying that he had been thrown out of his wife's chambers, or rather their son's nursery, a few times. By his wife no less, because apparently he disturbed their sons somehow. He had given his son one advice, he should better follow. Never anger a Targaryen that freshly became a mother. He had to make the scary and painful experience that the in the first years (at least the first six moons) after their children's birth, Targrayen mothers were the worst.

They were highly temperamental, had a short patience and god they were strong. Rhaenys slaps had truly hurt him. He had pissed his wife off a few times when Laena had been born and also when Laenor had been born. So he could only advise his son not to do anything stupid to gain Rhaenyra's wrath. As much as he loved his wife, Daemon had been truthful when he said she was only half Targaryen. Rhaenyra on the other hand was more Targrayen then Arryn.

The report, he was reading, laid forgotten in his hand. Now his attention returned to it. When Daemon and the Velaryon forces had won the War of the Stepstones Corlys had stationed a few dozen men, to protect the Stepstones. Since a few weeks he got reports from his men that more and more Pirates were sighted near the Islands. With flags that identified them as Dornish or Lysennish.

Deep inside of him, he had known the day would come, that he would have to go to war again. Once again trying to keep his hold on the Stepstones firm. If he lost them to Dorne or Lys, he would lose profit. Something he could not afford to lose. Therefore, he had to suppress any challenge before it grew too big. However, the first time he went to war was with two dragons on his side. Daemon’s Caraxes and his son’s Seasmoke. The second time he had one dragon. Seasmoke. He would never allow Rhaenys to fly to war on Meleys. She was the one who ruled High Tide in his absence.

Neither would he allow Laena to fly to war. Not even on Vhagar. She was a woman and had no place fighting in war. Furthermore, she was still bedridden and had a fever. After the panic attack, that she experienced after she was told her son was dead, she had started to run hot.

At first his wife had calmed him and said, most people with Targaryen blood were warmer than ordinary people. But his daughter’s temperature wasn’t just simply warm, she was burning up. Even for Targrayen circumstances. Driftmark’s Maesters had informed them, that Laena had birthing fever. If she survived the next few days, she would continue to live, but there was a high possibility that she could die.

After receiving this shocking message, Corlys had retreaded into his office. While his wife stayed by their daughter’s side. Their son was off the gods knew where. He could be with his dragon, his paramour, or his sons. Though the latter was rather unlikely. Because Daemon barely left the princesses side any more. And Princess Rhaenyra in turn rarely left her sons alone.

Truthfully, no one other than a few maids even went near the boy's nursery. His wife never once visited their grandsons, too busy watching over Laena and grieving for their dead grandson. Corlys was aware that his grandson was his daughter’s bastard with some unknown man. But he was his blood, thus he grieved for him. He was also aware that Laena had got their family in a dangerous situation.

Daemon would come out of this conflict unscathed. He even would be regarded as a forgiving man, for taking in his wife’s bastard. Laena on the other hand would be shunned and the main topic of gossip for weeks, if not months. He wouldn’t be surprised if daemon had already prepared letters, which would only have to be sent to the King and the citadel. No matter how much the Citadel or even the King's Hand despised daemon, no one could disapprove of an annulment this time. Maybe he wouldn't even have to ask for one. His daughter very well may die.

He begged his ancestors gods every minute not to let his daughter die. Perhaps they could somehow still fix this situation somehow. Prevent Daemon from divorcing Laena and preventing the rumours from spreading. Though the Sea Snake knew that the gossip was in all the servants mouths. Soon the whole island would know. Then it wouldn’t take long for the gossip to reach the King’s ear. And even though he was cross with Daemon, he would not stand the disrespect and insult his brother endured because of Laena’s foolish mistake.

A knock on his office door woke him from the daze his thoughts had put him in. “Rhaenys.”, he greeted his wife, laying the report down on his desk. "How is Laena?", he asked, straightening his back. "Nothing has changed in the past hours. She is still sleeping. The Maesters have given her more Milk of the Poppy. They are unsure if she will survive these next few days.", she answered, sitting down on a chair, near the fireplace.

The Velaryon patriarch stood up and walked over to his wife. Laying his hands on her shoulders. "Have they said anything else?", he questioned. His wife would know what he truly meant to ask. If the Maesters earlier claims were true. "Laena will be unlikely to ever conceive a child again. And if she somehow does, the childbirth will kill her the next time.", she answered. Knowing he wanted confirmation of the Maesters words. "If they weren't sure before, they are now sure that after this kind of fever she will not survive the next birth.", Rhaenys explained.

His chance of marrying Laena to someone else, once Daemon divorced her, and gaining other possible dragon riders was gone. No one would marry a Lady that would be known as the one who cheated, gave birth to a bastard and would be unable to conceive a child. Horrible foreshadowing.

"We have to do something against Daemon Corlys.", his wife stated after a long time of silence. "And how do you propose we shall achieve that, wife?", he asked. Surely she, of all people, would know just how dangerous he was. Daemon was a brutal and violent man. Nevertheless, he was also cunning and an excellent actor. If he wished, he could charm anyone. They would never be able to fool him. "Send him somewhere far away. The farther away the better. I want him gone from Driftmark. He is no husband to my daughter and certainly not my god-son.", she ranted.

In the past years, she had either complained about their son's wife or their daughter's husband. He was aware of her suppressed jealousy and hatred towards her two Targaryen cousins. Though, Rhaenys was colder to Rhaenyra. Because unlike the young Crown Princess, his wife was not chosen as the heir to the Iron Throne. Likewise she was still bitter about Daemon's refusal to support her in the times of the Great Council.

“I am not the King, nor his brother, Rhaenys. I cannot simply send him away, I have no authority over him.", he scolded her. "Then ask him for his support in the upcoming war of the Stepstones. Offer him anything from your treasure that he wants, so that he will support you in the Stepstones along with Laenor." Corlys wasn't surprised his wife knew about the upcoming war. A war that nobody could stop any more.

"Why do you want him gone, Rhaenys." He knew why. Or at least knew one reason. Because Rhaenys didn't get along with Daemon. He would even go so far as to say they hated each other. "He is a disturbance in Laena's healing journey. He is a violent, reckless and dangerous man. He would murder us and our children if it benefitted him." "Is there another reason?", he asked to be sure. "Yes, of course there is another one. He is around our son's wife nearly all day. Walks a step behind her, as if he was her shadow. He never did that with Laena.", she hissed. Daemon did not love Laena, so there was no reason for him to guard her like he did with the princess.

Daemon Targaryen was famous, in all the Seven Kingdoms. But equally famous to his roguish, whorish ways it  was a fact, that for Daemon Princess Rhaenyra was the most important person in the world. "And our son does nothing against it. Rhaenyra even left Daemon alone with her children. She is naive enough to think he wouldn't plot their death every moment they continue to live.", she raged.

Laenor had always been more of a passive person. Regardless, there wasn't much he could do anyway. Even if he decided to stand up to Daemon. The Targrayen Prince was a legend already. He had legendary skills with his sword, was a relentless and ruthless fighter, showing mo mercy towards his opponent.

Tired of arguing with his wife, he just nodded his consent. "I will see what I can do, wife." He would try to persuade Damon, but he was almost sure his attempt would fail. Daemon would never be convinced. "Good. Inform me if it is done. I will be with Laena.", she said her farewells and swept out of the room.

A few days later

Rhaenyra knew her uncle was watching her, he always was. The past few days she could barely go anywhere without him right behind her. Not that she had anything against that. She loved her Uncle, always had and always would, but sometimes he was annoying. Never leaving her a free minute alone, not even when she was in her son’s nursery, protected by Velaryon guards, that he always chased away when he came. Rhaenyra knew she could have commanded him to leave her alone, he would have listened. He was the only man that truly listened when she wanted something.

She was the Heiress to the Iron Throne, her commands should be obeyed by everyone except the King. But even her own Lord Husband didn’t listen to her most of the time. To drunk to truly understand what she wanted from him. The Kingsguard was loyal to her father (at least most of them, since Criston Cole and another Kingsgaurd were firmly under Alicents or rather Otto’s control). Her own household was smaller than her Stepmother’s, but they were truly the only ones that obeyed her without question.

Being angry at not being taken serious would do no good. So she ignored it and worked hard to prove she was worthy of being Heiress to the Iron Throne. She sat on her father’s Council, worked to improve the smallfolks living conditions, and tried to please every highborn Lord and Lady. But by the Fourteen was that hard. She now knew most of the Lords that would support Alicent and Otto in their ambition to make Aegon King. Though her younger half-brother was still a child, he wouldn’t always be one. Someday he would be a grown man, maybe even harbour own ambitions for their father’s throne.

Chasing these dark thoughts away she cradled Aerion in her arms. Her eldest was a bit restless today, while Baelon as still sleeping like a rock. “What are you brooding about so hard, princess?”, her uncle’s voice rang out from behind her. Directly behind her. She didn’t hear him come up behind her at all. He was truly a deathly silent warrior that knew how to sneak up on something. She only didn’t jump up in fright to prevent Aerion being disturbed further. He was especially fussy today. Perhaps because Laenor had not visited their sons in days. Her husband even avoided her.

“What makes you think I am brooding Uncle?”, she asked. “I can practically see the wheels spinning in your head sweet niece.”, he chuckled. “Very funny.”, she answered. “I’m just thinking about Laenor.” “What about Laenor?”, he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling a little. Rhaenyra always knew her uncle was a rather jealous man, who didn’t like it when her attention was focused on someone else.

“He hasn’t been around. Not even in the late evening, to tuck them into bed. Which is unusual.”. Rhaenyra sighed deeply. She wished Laenor would make more effort in being a father to their boys. But at least he was there to tuck them into their beds, when it was time to sleep.

“Hm, he seems to have better things to do. I would assume, that he is with his father, in Corlys office.”, Daemon said, a hand hovering above her eldest child’s head. She had not yet permitted him to touch them, so he did not. His hands were constantly hovering either above her skin or her babes heads. As if he wanted to caress them.

“What do you know Uncle?”, she asked suspicious. He somehow knew everything that was going on in this castle, even though he wasn’t its owner. It seemed like he had many spies, otherwise he wouldn’t be so well-informed. Two days ago he told her about what the Maesters said about Laena. They had examined her and found out that she would never be able to conceive again, unless a miracle happened. And should she get pregnant again, she would not survive the childbirth.

Rhaenyra had seen the cruel joy in her uncle's eyes. He was delighted to hear such news. Because now he could truly get an annulment. Though Rhaenyra still doubted that her father would grant him one. She felt pity for her good-sister. Yes she was an entitled and arrogant woman, but she was raised similar to Rhaenyra herself. She ha also been indulged by her parents. Everything she wanted she got. No one ever told her no. She was, like Laena, her parents golden child. (Or rather their only child.)

Laena was spoiled by both her parents, like Rhaenyra had also been by Viserys and her mother. However, unlike Laena, who spent much time with her parents, neither the King nor her mother were truly available for her in her childhood. Her father was always to busy ruling and governing the kingdom (not that he really did that, his Small Council did most of the work for him, still does.)

“Corlys plans for another war.”, he informed her, grinning down on her son, who clapped in his hand and smiled up at his great-uncle. “The Stepstones again?”, she guessed. “I see the issue has been brought to court.”, he commented. “It has, several times. Even from the King's new Maester of ships. One of the Lannister twins.”, she confirmed. “My brother has seen no need for doing anything against the rising pirates, I assume.” “You assume correctly uncle. His hand pointed out that it isn’t something that concerns the realm. Therefore, they should leave the Velaryon to handle their war. Since they fought for the Stepstones two times before.”, she explained. “I expected as much. Though the first time they won the war thanks to me.”, he said, chest puffed out proudly.

“I know that uncle. I congratulated you.”, Rhaenyra chuckled. “What else do you know?”, she questioned. “Corlys wants to bring Laenor to war with him. Which would leave Rhaenys as the castle's ruler. He also schemes to keep the rumours about Laena quiet. He is thinking who would benefit him as god-son, once I divorced Laena.”, he responded. Rhaenyra had already expected something along such lines, she was aware how ambitious her father-in-law was. But there was something else, that made Daemons eyes darkening with rage. “What is bothering you uncle?”

“It seems I cannot hide anything from you niece.” “Uncle.”, she said sternly. “Corlys thinks I will support him in this third war again. As if I was duty bound to help him. He plans to persuade me somehow. Though that plans looks more like one of Rhaenys. My dear cousin wants me gone. She would most likely pray for me to die this time.”, he laughed without any humour in it. The princess knew what her uncle was talking about. In the first war of the Stepstones, Daemon final act (that secured their victory) nearly killed him. Rhaenyra had been distressed when she heard from his injures.

“Are you going to fight in the Stepstones?”, she asked, not really wanting to hear an answer. She knew she would fear for his life until he was back alive. She would not be able to sleep at night, if her favourite family member was off to war again. She didn't want that. “No, I won’t. Corlys has to learn that he cannot fool me. I won’t be persuaded in winning another war, only for him to take all the credit. He can lead this war himself. I on the other hand will sit still on Dragonstone with you and your children and amuses myself with hearing how he fails. Then when he comes to me begging, maybe then I am inclined to help him.”

“You…. Unbelievable. Of course you would.”, she chuckled, kissing her son’s brow. Rhaenyra had told him of her plans to sail to Dragonstone, once her visit on Driftmark was over. She had no desire to return to Kingslanding. Not when half of her father’s court schemed to kill her sons and dethrone her before she was even crowned. And most of all she wanted to avoid being in Alicent’s presence. A knock I disturbed the relative peace in the nursery. Her uncle looked angered at the disturbance, but Rhaenyra called out “Come in.”, before he could open his mouth.

A nursemaid entered the nursery. “I…..I……my apologies Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenyra….Lady Laena refuses to feed the you……young Lady. The babe refuses any other milk…..as well. We thought maybe the princes nurse could….help.”, the poor maid stuttered terrified of Daemon. Rhaenyra knew the servant meant to ask about Aerion and Baelon’s nurse, but they had none. She herself fed her sons. But nobody was aware of that. Rhaenyra hesitated for a few seconds, then she handed her eldest son to Daemon.

“Did you bring……ah the babe with you?”, Rhaenyra asked the nursemaid. “Yes princess.” The nurse nodded swiftly, lifting her arms up. Revealing a tiny bundle that squirmed. “Give her to me.”, she ordered. “I….princess…I should not….”, the said stammered. “Shush girl. Give her to me, I will watch her.”, Rhaenyra commanded. “As you command princess.”, the maid bowed and handed the girl over to her. “You can go now.”, she said, her eyes focused on the babe. “Thank you princess.” She bowed again and left the nursery. Closing the door behind her.

“You shouldn’t take care of a Velaryon bastard.”, Daemon scolded her. “She is an innocent child, Uncle. It isn’t her fault that she was born out of wedlock.”, she corrected him. Carefully rocking the babe, cooing quietly. He stood next to her, holding her child, careful to make it comfortable for him. “She isn’t worthy……”, he began. “Shush Daemon. I will not hear your nonsense. She is innocent of her mother’s crime and only a few days old. Leave her be.”, she scolded him. Not once looking away from the girl.

“What should we name her?”, Rhaenyra mused. “We?”, Daemon asked, raising an eyebrow, after he laid Aerion back down into the crib. “Why should we name her? She is Laena’s bastard, not mine.”, he scoffed. “Again Uncle, she is a child. And didn’t you hear the nursemaid? Laena refuses to fed her child. She also neglected to give her a name. We should call her something else than the babe.” “If you say so.”, he shrugged. “I doubt Laena or Rhaenys will even think about the poor girl. Otherwise, they would have given her a name already.”, Rhaenyra said. Strocking the small girl. She wasn’t crying, but she could tell that she hadn’t eaten in several hours. Her sons made the same face when they were hungry, though they were also very loud when they wanted to.

Carefully Rhaenyra removed the clothing from her right breast, but Daemons hand stopped her. “What are you doing niece?”, he asked, eyes wide and looking straight at her. “The nursemaid informed us, that the child has not been fed in hours and refuses to take the breast of any other nurse. So I’m simply assisting, like I was asked.”, she answered. “The maid asked, that your wet-nurse tries it, not you.”, he corrected. “Uncle, have you seen any wet-nurse in my household or in the nursery these past few days?”, she asked. “No, I have not.”, he admitted. “That is because I do not have any. I nurse my boys on my own.”

“I’m surprised the Queen hasn’t commented on that.”, he said. “Oh, she did already. But I simply ignored her ranting. I couldn't care less if she wanted to be a religious cunt, who refuses to fed her children her own milk. I pity my siblings. I will raise my children as I see fit.”, Rhaenyra smiled up at her uncle. Who shock his head, but pulled his hand back. “Who am I to order the heir to the throne around. Do as you see fit then.”, he replied.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, smiling and undoing the laces of her dress. Freeing one of her breast and lifting the babe up. Until her mouth was on Rhaenyra’s breast. She couldn’t understand why Laena would refuse to fed her own child, but the princess knew, that if this poor girl would not drink anything soon, she would die of starvation. Rhaenyra harboured no ill will towards this child, it was innocent, born into an unfair world under unfortunate circumstances.

For a few seconds nothing happened, the nursery was completely silent, not even her boys made any noise. Then she felt a tuck on her breast. Looking down, she saw the tiny girl trying to lack onto her breast. Smiling slightly, she made it easer for the child and watched her as she drank. Thank the Fourteen Flames. Cooing sweetly at the babe Rhaenyra let her drink her fill. It took quite some time until the babe’s stomach was filled. Which wasn’t really a surprise, since it seemed he had starved quite a long time.

Once the babe released her breast, she patted it on the back a little while, until she hiccuped one time. Then she attempted to hand the girl over to her uncle, so she could dress herself properly again. But he refused to take the babe and bent down, helping her dress. She blushed a little, but focused on the child rather than the closeness of her uncle. She was still angry with him. He left her when she needed him, and she refused to give in and grant him forgiveness after only a few days.

“Any ideas for names uncle?”, she questioned after he stopped away, still holding the babe secure in her arms. By now, the tiny girl had fallen asleep in the crown princesses arms. “I still think we shouldn’t name her, but if you wish to name her, I won’t oppose you, niece.” “Should we name her something Valyrian?”, Rhaenyra asked. The child was part Valyrian, even though she didn’t look the part. “No. Give her some other name. Valyrian names are for children that look Valyrian and have Valyrian ancestry.”, he retorted.

“She is part Valyrian. Her mother is a Velaryon.”, came her prompt reminded. “Maybe we should give her a Velaryon name. Like Valaena.” “That would greatly please her grandparents, but I’m in no mood to please either Corlys or Rhaenys.”, the prince replied. “You are truly against giving her a Valyrian name?” “Yes, Valyrian names belong to true heirs of either House Targrayen or House Velaryon.”, was his answer. “Do you think my sons are not worthy of their names then?”, Rhaenyra demanded to know. “Your sons are descendants of both Houses. They have the right and the appearance to prove their lineage.”

“So you do not think that they are bastards?”, she inquired further. “I asked you if they were bastards and you denied it, so I believe you. Besides, your sons look identical to my father and your mother. And they also have a few of Laenor features, truly a pity, that they resemble him a bit.”, Daemon responded. “Your sons are heirs to your throne, they are your legacy. I do not think them to be bastards. Unlike with Laena’s child, who is clearly a bastard. Since it is impossible for me to have sired a child on her.” “How so uncle?” “I never shared my bed with her. She sought her pleasure elsewhere. Truly terrible for her that her secret got out, when she gave birth to a plain babe. One of her Rhoynar lovers must have fathered the girl.”

“How about Lyra? Or Alissa? Or Eleanah?”, she suggested. “Alissa is to close to my mother’s name. I won’t have the realm think I adopt Laena’s child as my own. Eleanah sound better, but still no. Lyra is to close to your name.”, he decided. “Then we could call her Alis or Tarla, Shana or Kaitlyn?” “Alis is still close to Alyssa, Tarla is an unfitting name, Kaitlyn doesn’t fit either and Shana is to close to a Valyrian name.”

“Fine, then what are your suggestion's uncle?”, she asked, becoming a little frustrated with him. “Dayana. Dayana Waters.” Rhaenyra looked at him a bit surprised. Thinking the name over for a while then she nodded. “It fits. Dayana it is.”, Rhaenyra smiled down onto the girl in her arms. “Could you bring the other crib over here uncle?”, the princess asked. “Of course.”

Without much effort he put the crib, that stood in the room's corner before, next to her twin boy's crib. Her father-in-law had paid craftsman to craft two beautiful cribs, but Rhaenyra preferred it, that her twins used one together. Cautiously, she put Dayana down into the crib, so that she wouldn't wake her from her slumber. Dayana did not, she continued to sleep deeply. A while she and Daemon were watching the three sleeping children, Aerion had fallen asleep too. “What do you think, will Lord Corlys ask you to join him in the Stepstones?”, the Crown princess was the one, who broke the silence.

Her voice laced with worry. “He will, without a doubt.” Rhaenyra flinched. Once again, she realized that many people took Daemon for granted. Her father did, assuming no matter what he did, his younger brother would always be on his side. Lord Corlys did as well, thinking Daemon would give a shit about so-called duty. Her father-in-law had played her uncle's achievements in the war down, even though he won the war for the Velaryon. As painful as it was to admit, she was another person who took him for granted. He was a constant in her life, despite his many and sometimes long banishments.

“Will you go?”, she asked, voice barely louder than a whisper. But Daemon’s sharp ears heard her. “Do you want me to go, princess?”, he questioned. She wanted to say no, to forbid him from ever leaving her side again. But that would be selfish. Her Kepus was a dragon, not meant to be bound to one place. He had his own free will, it was his decision to make, not hers. “Rhaenyra.” “Yes uncle?”, she didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, not wanting to influence them or risking revealing what she truly felt.

“Do you want me to go to war with your husband? Do you want me to protect him from harm? Do you want me gone from Driftmark?”, he asked. His long, slender fingers grabbed her chin lightly. With an almost gentle hold on her chin, he forced her head upwards. Forcing her to look eye to eye with him. “Tell me, Sweet niece. Tell me what you want.”, he ordered in High Valyrian. The princess remained silent, minute after minute passed. Both Targaryen’s kept their eyes on the other.

Gazing in each other’s purple violet eyes, forgetting everything else around them. Then finally Rhaenyra found the courage to say what she truly thought for once. “I do not want you to go to war. I don’t want you to risk your life again. I……I want you to stay.”. She stammered a little at the end, and shallowed thickly. Embarrassed she tried to squirm her way out of his hold, but Daemon’s grip on her chin was relentless. He waited until she looked up again, meeting his eyes with hers. “Then I will stay.”

Chapter Text

Corlys was surprise when Daemon came. He had ordered one of his guards to find the Prince two hours ago. Corlys would have liked if Daemon had come sooner, but he thought it best not to push the Targrayen Prince. His family wasn't exactly in his good grace at the moment. "What do you want, Corlys?", he asked, as disrespectful as ever. Daemon dropped onto the chair closest to the burning hearth in Corlys office. He always did that if he could, sitting or standing closest to an open and warm fire. The Velaryon Lord could never figure out why.

"Thank you for joining me, this morning, Prince Daemon. How is Princess Rhaenyra?", he asked in return. Thanks to gossiping servants, he knew that the Prince had slept inside his grandson's nursery with the princes mother. Daemon didn't even look ashamed. He only wore his signature (and very much infuriating if he might add) smirk. Leaning back into his chair.

"First of all, it is Crown Princess to you Corlys. Remember that. And secondly my niece is perfectly fine, thank you for asking.", he answered, his voice calm and revealing nothing. But the Targaryen Prince's eyes were another story. Corlys could read it in his eyes, should he so much as even attempt to blackmail the princess with his knowledge he would find himself on the wrong side of DarkSister. Corlys had always been aware of the deep affection that the Prince held for the Princess, but slowly he thought that Daemon's feeling were far more than just affections. And he couldn't even fault him for that.

Princess Rhaenyra was Daemon's favourite person, always had been. She was a beautiful, dragon riding, Valyrian woman, who would one day sit on the Iron Throne. Every sane man would desire a woman such as her. He couldn't blame Daemon for seeking to be by her side, especially now that his wife (his daughter Laena) had betrayed him. He knew from the moment he understood the consequences of his granddaughter was a bastard, that his ambition had cost him greatly.

Daemon would never take Laena back now, he would divorce her sooner or later. His foolish daughter had destroyed dozens of his plans. At the look in Daemon's eyes, he shallowed thickly and sat down on his desk. A safe distance away from the dangerous prince, that could unleash his wrath at any time. "That is good to hear. How are my grandchildren?", he asked next. He knew his strategy of trying to get Daemon to lower his guard, would most likely fail. But it was worth a try.

Corlys was aware, that Daemon knew he did not solely ask about his grandsons, but also his granddaughter. He wanted to know if Laena's little girl was still breathing or if Daemon had killed the bastard girl. Though he hoped that princess Rhaenyra had stopped him, if he attempted such. The princess was known to have a kind heart, he knew she had inherited her golden heart from her gentle mother, Queen Aemma. His daughter-in-law would never hurt an innocent child.

"They are still sleeping. The boys exhausted mother is still seeping.", the Prince answered. Corlys waited for him to continue, his anxiety grew with every passing moment. "Don't fret Corlys. Laena's bastard is still alive. Not even I would harm a child, that cannot defend itself yet. Besides, Rhaenyra would have my head if I attempted to harm the girl. She practically fell in love with her overnight. Looks after her like the girl came from her own womb.", Daemon said, after a long moment of silence. His smirk revealed how much he enjoyed Corlys anxiety.

"Is that so? I heard the Crown Princess fed my granddaughter last night.", he hesitantly commented. Laena had refused to fed her daughter last night, when the wet nurse came to them, because the child wouldn't take to any of the wet nurses he employed. Rhaenys had ordered the wet nurse to take their granddaughter back to her nursery and bid the wet nurse to try again. Since their daughter was incapable of taking care of her child. She still grieved for her son, calling out to him. Laena was also affected by the news she could likely never get pregnant again. Even if (through some miracle) she did, she would not survive her labours.

Later that night, Rhaenys and he had been informed about their granddaughter being within their grandson's nursery, by the same wet nurse as before. The woman confessed, that she had become desperate and sought out the Crown princess for help. Not knowing that his daughter-in-law did not employ a wet nurse. She fed her sons herself. An action that was frowned upon by the Faith, but no one could change the princess mind. And no one wanted to exhaust her more than she had been on the day of her twin's birth. Because then and there she had decided to breastfed them herself.

”That she did. Your granddaughter wasn't taking to any wet nurse, her own mother refused to do so and since my niece was asked to help, she helped. Even gave the brat a name.", the Targrayen snorted, crossing his arm in front of his chest. Rhaenys had been angry, when they were informed of Laena's daughter staying in Crown Princess Rhaenyra's quarters. His wife thought their daughter just needed a bit of time. Sooner or later, she would take care of her daughter.

It seemed his wife had forgotten how often babes, especially such young ones, had to be fed. His granddaughter would have long starved, before his daughter could ever be fine enough to care for her. Laena was as deeply trapped inside her to grieve for her son, she completely ignored her surviving child. The only reason Rhaenys didn't barg into their grandson's nursery, was Daemons presence there. Since the three weeks the princess and he had been here, Daemon constantly loomed near her. To be safe, he had forbidden Rhaenys to approach their daughter-in-law and asked her to take care of Laena.

"Enough with the senseless nonsense!", Daemon ordered. "State the purpose of your plan, so I can go back to bed.", he was losing his patience. Corlys had truly hoped, that he could trick Daemon into lowering his guards. "I need your help Daemon.", he confessed. “Don’t insult my intelligence. I know about the Stepstones.”, Daemon interrupted him. Ah, so he already knew. Then he knew how much Corlys required his help.

“I want you to support House Velaryon in a third war against the pirates.”, he informed him. Sure that the Prince who always sought to prove himself with everything he could. Who always sought his elder brother’s attention and approval. “Why pray tell, should I help you in another war. That, mind you, has nothing to do with me?”, the Prince arched a brow and scowled at him.

Corlys knew he would only convince the Targrayen Prince, if he appealed to his massive ego. A feat every Targaryen shared, all Targaryen’s shared the same arrogance. Though some were more arrogant than others. But he wouldn’t deny, that Daemon's absence from Driftmark would also benefit him and his family. His wife would certainly be happier if he left the island.

“We need your experience and your dragon riding skills to win a war against the Lysenish Commanders.”, he said. “Who are these Commanders, the great Sea Snake, seems to fear?”, Daemon asked him mockingly. The Prince definitely already knew about the two Commanders, that were giving Corlys a headache. “Racallio Ryndoon and Sharako Lohar are reviving the Triarchy again. They want to start where their predecessor failed. Thousands of soldiers are already under their command.”, the Velaryon patriarch said through gritted teeth.

“You have dragons, Corlys. You do not need mine.”, Daemon retorted. “We do need you Daemon. You have far more experience in warfare than my son has. And Seasmoke isn’t nearly as large as Caraxes. His fire doesn’t burn as hot as your dragons does.”, Corlys defended. “Maybe Corlys, but your son’s dragon is far harder to spot than Caraxes is.” “Do you not want the glory of winning against the Triarchy again?”, Corlys questioned. “I won against them already. I have no interest in the Stepstones. They are your problem not mine. Thus, I will not participate in your war. Since I have absolutely no reason to do so.”

Daemon knew, he knew that Corlys planned to lure him to war, to make him leave Driftmark. To make him leave Rhaenyra. “I will only say this once Corlys. You or your wife will stop any attempt to harm Rhaenyra or her reputation. You will watch how you speak to and about her. If I hear so much as one rumour about her, I will hold you and your family responsible. And I will not hold back, just because we are related.”, he warned his tone serious and harsh. Clearly he wasn’t finished yet.

“Unlike our king, I am not so easily fooled by you or your wife’s tricks. You may think yourself clever, but I survived plots that were far superior to the one you two are hatching. You knew from the beginning, that it would be hard for your son to perform his duty to my niece. It’s a miracle to see, he managed to give Rhaenyra two children. Though I suspect those two will be the only children he will ever have. And your plot with Laena, did you really think I would fall for such a trap?”, Daemon scoffed.

“Laenor and Rhaenyra are happy. I’m sure there will soon be more children to their names.”, Corlys growled. “Don’t make me laugh! They are both miserable. Laenor is a horrible father, an absent father from what my niece tells me. And Rhaenyra is not much better. She has to shoulder all the responsibility, that your son is neglecting!”, he responded, smirking with fire burning in his eyes.

Corlys could not find words, for any defence. The Prince was right. Laenor was neglecting both his duty’s and his own sons. He was out in the city with his companions and paramours every day. If not he was in the training yard, training with one of his knightly lovers. While the princess was stuck in the castle, caring for her twin boys. “Laena, does love you Daemon. She truly does. She is enamoured with you since many years.”, he defended his daughter instead.

Daemon was silent for a moment, then he was laughing. Loudly. It took minutes for him to calm down. “You are truly a jester Corlys. We both know that isn’t true in the slightest. Laena was thaught by Rhaenys and you, that she would be good enough to be Queen. That she deserved a Targaryen husband. You promised her through me, she would have dragon riding children with the Targrayen name.”, Daemon shook his head and glared at Corlys.

“Your daughter is a spoiled girl, who thinks to highly of herself. I could never love her, I do not even hold affection for her. She is nothing to me.”, the Targrayen Prince declared. “She is your wife!”, the enraged father of said woman exclaimed. “Not for long.”, he answered. “What do you mean?”, Corlys asked shocked. “Do you truly think I don’t know that you and your wife plan something? That I do not see how my niece flinched from Rhaenys? I’m not blind, Corlys. If Rhaenyra had not forbidden me to do something, you would have already felt consequences.”, Daemon growled.

“We would never harm the Crown Princess!”, he said enraged. “Can you speak for your wife and daughter as well?”, Daemon asked, raising his eyebrows. “They would never harm her, she is kin.” “You are a horrible liar. We both are aware how jealous Rhaenys is.”, the Prince retorted. “We should get back, to the point of our conversation.”, Corlys changed the topic abruptly. The Velaryon patriarch knew how true the princes words were. His wife was jealous of the Crown Princess, for keeping her position. And Laena was angry because Rhaenyra had Daemon’s affection.

“I will not support you Corlys. That is your war. Not mine. I will take no part in another war. I couldn’t care less about what happens there. I am where I want to be.”, Daemon growled. Corlys knew he didn’t mean Driftmark. He meant being near his niece.

“Daemon….”, he started, but was rudely interrupted by his once ally. “Quiet Corlys. I have had enough with you. I won’t participate in your war. Either you accept that or you will learn not to cross me again.”, the prince stood up from his seat turning to the door. Corlys didn’t dare to try to call him back. “One more thing, old friend. If any of you try anything to upset my niece, you will pay dearly for that. Do you understand me?!” “Yes, Prince Daemon.”, the Velaryon Lord answered, straightening his back and watching the Rouge Prince go.

Rhaenyra had slept uneasy this night. Though she was used to narrowly sleeping in these past two years. She was often plagued with nightmares at night. Especially the past four moos. Fearing for her sons lives. Alicent and Otto were her enemies, her son’s enemies. They would do anything to ensure her half-brother ascend the throne. Rhaenyra was aware of the desire many lords shared to see a male on the throne after her father’s death. They did not care that the King named her his heir years ago. Many thought her father would change the succession once Aegon was out of infancy. He did not, nevertheless the Hightowers were trying to undermine her at every turn.

Obviously they would do anything to see Aegon taking the throne. The assassin that was sent to kill her sons was evidence enough. Even her innocent children weren’t safe from the Greens. Her stepmother openly whispered behind her back. Calling them bastards, because of their hair colour. Their resemblance to her mother and grandfather or her husband weren’t enough to prove the rumours wrong.

The Crown Princess caressed her son’s dark hair, while she kept a watchful eye on Dayana. The little girl was still tiny and weak. She had barely drank anything in the past days. Her mother refused to fed her and the stubborn Velaryon girl refused any other breast. Surprisingly she had quickly taken to Rhaenyra. However, the princess was worried, that on the long term her milk wouldn’t be enough. She had woken up three times in the nights. Every time she fed Dayana, her sons had been hungry only twice.

Sighing deeply she watched over the three babes. Some would say they looked similar, but Rhaenyra could easily say, that the poor girl had inherited nothing from her mother. At least not in her colouring. She had the hair and eye colour of an Andal or a Dornish. So her father must have been a descendant from one of those two.

“Rhaenyra we have to talk.”, Laenors voice rang out behind her. Flinching from the harshness of his tone, a tone he had never used before. “What do you want to talk about Laenor?”, she questioned, not turning around to face him. She would listen to whatever he wanted to say, but she refused to take her eyes off her two sons and the tiny girl. She would love to take her on as a ward, if Laena continued to refuse her care. But she also knew Rhaenys would never allow her granddaughter to become Rhaenyra ward.

“Daemon.”, the Velaryon heir answered. “What has my uncle done to offend you Laenor?”, she asked, knowing her uncle had barely interacted with him over the past weeks. Keeping to himself or staying by her side. “He shouldn't be near our sons!”, Laenor exclaimed, anger laced his voice. “Why not? He is their great-uncle. And he is just keeping me company.”, Rhaenyra defended her uncle instantly. She was to cross with her so-called husband to listen to him slandering her uncle. Yes, she also wasn’t happy with daemon right now, but that didn’t have anything to do itch her sons. If anything, her uncle was careful with them, watching over them when she needed a break. In this past week he had done more, than Laenor in the last five moons.

Daemon behaved more like a father to them, than their sire did. It was painful to see that. She truly wished Laenor would behave like a proper father to their boys. But he disappointed her at every turn. “He is a danger to them! A violent and unpredictable man. You should not allow someone like him to be alone with our boys.”, he raged. It was strange to see the normally calm and collected Velaryon so enraged. “Calm yourself Laenor. What has happened? Why do you say something like that now?”, she asked, frowning.

“He threatened our family.”, he hissed, grabbing her on her shoulders. “Laenor, you are hurting me!”, Rhaenyra exclaimed, but her the Velaryon did not listen. “Rhaenyra! He will kill our boys without hesitation.”, he growled. “He would never hurt them. He is my uncle. Their blood! Where did you hear such nonsense ?!”, she questioned him, squirming out of his harsh grip and positioned herself in front of her twins crib.

“What is wrong with you Laenor?! My uncle would never hurt my sons. And you have no right to accusing him of such horrible things! Not when he was more of a father to my sons than you! You were never there for them! I am the one who raises them, who tends to their needs why you parade around in Flea Bottom with your lovers! I have to deal with the gossip that is whispered behind our backs. Gossip that is worsening with every day you neglect our sons.”, she hissed, glaring at him with disdain. 

“Rhaenyra…?!”, he started, but she interrupted him. “NO, I’m done. I will not stand here and listen to your senseless complaints. While you plan on leaving once again for the Stepstones, to fight your godforsaken war again, leaving me completely alone in the process, he is by my side!” Laenor was speechless, staring at the princess, finding no words to defend himself.

Minutes passed before he found words of defence. "I am my father's heir, it's my duty to support him in that war." "You speak of duty?! It is your duty as our son's father to stay by their side! To teach them valuable skills they will need in life! To guide them in things I cannot! But instead of doing your duty as their father, you are taking the cowardly way out of your responsibility!", she accused, rage boiling in her veins.

Yes, she was aware of Laenor hating the process of conceiving their sons, but it had been a lot more painful for her than for him. She would not let him excuse his behaviour by stating that war was more important to him than his own sons. "I am going to war with my father to secure our son's future!", he shouted. "No, you are not. You are running away from the responsibility of looking after them. The duty of being a father to children you didn't want. I know I am not the person you wished to bin yourself to. But you know that I did not wish for this union either. At least I am trying to make it work. You on the other hand are putting stones in my way at every turn!", Rhaenyra was breathing heavily, her glare would have scared anyone at the moment. A she-dragon angry on behalf of her hatchlings.

But she wasn't finished speaking. "Your father doesn't care for the boys future, he cares for his own fortune. His own wealth. He simply doesn't want to lose the Stepstones, because it would hurt his pride." "Come now, Rhaenyra, don't be ridiculous. Of course my father cares for the boys. They are his blood. Besides, my mother and sister are here to keep you company while my father, daemon and I are away at war.", he said, snorting at his cousin-wife's antics. Though after two years of marriage he should have known better, than, to antagonize her.

"You are calling me ridiculous?", she raged. "I am worrying about ours son's safety, and you dare to belittle my concerns? And now you drag Daemon into your nonsense again. He won the first war for you and how di you and your kin thank him for that?!", she questioned him. Laenor remained silent. "Right, not at all. You prided yourselves with your hard won victory. When it was Daemon, who killed the Crabfeeder. It was Daemon, who had enough courage to be a living bait. He ensured your victory. With his sword, his dragon and his presence there. But you stabbed him in the back and played him down. You do not deserve his help. Especially not after your sister tried to fool him about her pregnancy."

"Do not speak about my sister that way!", he exclaimed. "I speak the truth Laenor. I will not be blind, just because you want me to see your sister as a wonderful woman, who could become a companion to me. Your sister and your mother have been nothing if not impossible to get along with these two years we are married." "They are trying their best." "Do not make me laugh, cousin. Your mother and sister hate me. They detest me so much, that they are whispering behind my back, about my sons being not of your seed. Even though your mother knows, I have not laid with a man other than you. I was trying to be civil with them, for your sake, I am done with playing nice. And it seems you have chosen your side.", Rhaenyra crossed her arms over her chest and sent him an angry glare.

"They are my mother and sister, Rhaenyra! Of course, I have to be on their side." "I am your wife, Aerion and Baelon are your sons. But clearly you do not care about them.", she said resigned. "Of course I care about them. They are my sons!", he answered, his eyes wide. "Not enough. I know you hear your mother gossiping and shaming me and the boys. But instead of stopping her, you say nothing. You do not even try to discourage the rumours of bastardy.", she said accusingly.

"Are they truly my sons? You seemed awfully close with the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, before you got pregnant. And now you insist on keeping Daemon by your side." Rhaenyra was speechless. She stared, her eyes wide with shock, at Laenor. "Get out.", she murmured. "Rhaenyra....I did not mean to....", Laenor started with a pained and embarrassed expression on his face. "Get out, this instant Laenor! Get out of my son's nursery! Go to your war, I couldn't care less. I'm done. I gave you a dozen chances to prove yourself. To better yourself. My patience has reached its limits. As soon as you and your father leave for the Stepstones, I will be taking the boys with me. To Dragonstone.", she hissed, her eyes daring him to defy her order.

"Rhaenyra, please I didn't mean to.....", he started apologizing, but once again she didn't let him finish his sentence. "I don't care to hear your apologies. The damage is done. I will remove myself from your precious home. Do not think for a minute, that I will stay in Driftmark while you play war. Not when your sister and mother are set on making my life miserable.", Rhaenyra wasfuriousy now. She had been patient with Laenor, truly she had hopes that he would be a good ally. But once again the gods weren't on their side. She couldn't even count on her own blood any more.

"And another thing, Laenor. I forbid you from setting a foot on Dragonstone. I will no longer be shamed by you. Go to your war and then stay at HighTide. If I see you on Dragonstone, without allowing it beforehand, you will learn not to mess with me again.", she wanted him. Her cousin flinched and took a step back. "Am I understood? Under no circumstances are you or your family allowed to set foot on Dragonstone. I am the heir to the Throne, Dragonstone is under my command. And your Velaryons are not welcome here. And do tell your father, that I refuse to let my second born be fostered here with only six namedays. Should he or your mother attempt to take my son, I will seek revenge in the style of my House's words!"

He made no move to leave, he just stared at her. Then he moved, but not towards the door. He reached for her. Before he could touch her, a sword came to rest at his throat. "My niece has given you a command, Seahorse. Obey or face the consequences." Daemon was back. And he had heard their conversation. Laenor looked terrified, his eyes glued to the Rouge Prince. "Uncle.", Rhaenyra called in High Valyrian. A second later, DarkSister was in her sheath again and Daemon hovered at her side. The Princesses so-called husband left the nursery in a hurry, pale as a ghost and scared for his life. "Thank you.", she whispered. Her Rouge Uncle didn't respond, instead he pulled her into his arms. Embracing her. She stood stiff in his embrace for a few seconds, before she melted against him and sank into his chest.

Kingslanding a few days later

King Viserys, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms Protector of the Realm was sitting in his bed chambers, working on his model of Old Valyria. But his thoughts were somewhere else. With his eldest child, his heir. His daughter from his first wife and first love Aemma. Rhaenyra.

She hadn't written to him in nearly a moon. Something that greatly upset him, but he would not send a raven to her, just to scold her for not writing to her worried father. His little girl was a mother now. Twice over. She had given him two grandsons in one pregnancy. And more important, unlike her mother, his beloved Aemma, she had no truly concerns problems in her labours and became healthy quite quickly again. Though, she refused to be cared for by Maester's during her pregnancy or her labours.

Alicent had told him, that his heir had forbidden the Maesters from attending or examining her during her pregnancy. He had promised his wife to talk to his daughter about the disrespect she was showing towards the citadel. Rhaenyra had only answered, that she did not trust the old men, who have never given birth themself, and they failed to safe any of her mother's pregnancy's and even failed to safe her mother in the end.

It calmed him, to know Rhaenyra was not aware of the real cause behind Aemma's death. Even though his guilt was eating him up. Not a day went by, where he did not think about his first wife. She still haunted his dreams at night.

Nonetheless, finally his daughter had sent a message. Though how he got the message was strange. Normally the Maesters responsible for the rockery would deliver the messages, which were sent by ravens, to him. Now however, his daughter's message was delivered to him by one of his daughter handmaidens. Most of them remained behind in Kingslanding. Since Laenor and his daughter had sailed rather quickly and surprisingly. Rhaenyra did not deem it necessary to bring their whole household along. Since they would only be away a moon from Kingslanding. Eagerly he opened the letter. But his heart sank with every word he read.

Dear father

I write to you, to inform you of Laenor's decision to go to war. He seeks to support his father in the third war of the Stepstones.

It seems the Triarchy is rising from it’s ashes once again. Lord Corlys and Laenor will be away at war for moons. How many? That I cannot say. In Lord Corlys absence, his wife, the princess Rhaenys, will rule Driftmark.

I have decided to take up residence on Dragonstone. Forgive me, father, to only inform you of my desire now. Over a simple letter. I hope you can forgive me for not mentioning it sooner.

As long as Laenor is at war, I seek to remain at Dragonstone, spending time with my boys and tending to my duties as the Heir to the throne and ruler of Dragonstone. Be rest assured, that I have not forgotten my duties in the small Council. After my sons first nameday, I will fly to Kingslanding for a council meeting every three days.

I hope you remain in good health and spirit. I pray to the Fourteen Flames every day. Praying to them to lessen your burden and your injuries.

Fret not, I will not be alone on Dragonstone. I have sent word to my maids and guards, to make their way to Dragonstone, though a few will remain in the Red Keep, to tend to me while I visit for Council Meetings.

Dragonstone has will gain another inhabitant with my uncle, your brother Prince Daemon. My uncle had decided not to participate in the war.

Speaking of my uncle, have you heard what scandal the Lady Laena caused. My poor uncle a victim of it. My sister-in-law was said to be carrying my uncle's child, however due to a stressful situation (on which I have no further knowledge) her labours began too early. Lady Laena gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Unfortunately the gods took the newborn boy with them. The tiny girl however remains alive.

I see myself responsible to inform you of the injustice my uncle has experienced. His lawful wife has betrayed him. Her children are not from my uncle's seed. They were born with dark hair and eyes. Unlike my own boys, they sadly bear no resemblance whatsoever to their mother.

Daemon of course was angered, but he saw reason and will take his wife’s daughter as his ward. Both of them will keep me and my boys company on Dragonstone for the time being. I am delighted to inform you that my sons have taken well to her. The three of them get along splendidly. Though I will have to search for male companions for my sons at some point.

I know you are surely curious about, why Daemon would take the girl to ward. And why Lord Corlys or the Princess Rhaenys would allow their granddaughter (despite her questionable parentage) to be taken as ward by him. Which reminds me, I forgot to mention, because of the traumatic and painful birth the Lady Laena experienced, she will not be able to bear more children. The girl (for the time being we call her Dayana, a pretty name, right?) will be their only grandchild from their beloved daughter. I pity the Lady, who lost one of her children, something I hope to never experience. I pray for her swift recovery, because she still is bedridden for the most part of her days.

The Lady is still weak, and the Maester aren‘t sure if she will regain her original strength ever again. She is unable to take care of Dayana (and to my horror refuses to care for her daughter).

I beg you father, please do not be angry with my decision not to return to Kingslanding already. I seek the comfort of our ancestral home. I see too much of my beloved mother in my rooms and the Red Keep. Though our home has changed significantly in the past years. I’m more reminded of a Sept, than of the Targrayen‘s seat of power. Our ancestral tapestries were taken down and replaced. I hope you have not forgotten that our House proudly follows the Fourteen Flames. Though I have great respect for the Seven, I wish your family would respect that we do not follow the Seven who are one.

I will continue to pray for your health, father, hopefully you will keep me informed. Please take my advice to heart. I am aware of how much trust you put in Otto Hightower. But please keep in mind, that he isn’t the only intelligent man in your court. Lord Strong, your Master of Laws, is a well-informed and clever man. Lord Beesbury is one of your oldest friends.

Without a doubt, Hightower is a valuable advisor (in a few aspects), but his voice isn’t the only one that counts. You named me your heir and I want the same as you, for the peace to continue and for the realm to prosper further. Regardless I have taken enough of your time already. Be safe and stay healthy. Avy jorrāelan kepa.

Your daughter, Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.

Viserys had to read his eldest child’s letter two times more, until his mind understood what his daughter had written. His son-in-law was going to war, again. The third war in a short span of a few years. Laenor might be an experienced dragonrider and fighter, thanks to his participation in the last two wars, but it did not guarantee his safe return. His daughter could become a widow, but she couldn’t help her husband.

Yes, Rhaenyra was a dragonrider since Eleven years, first riding her she-dragon when she was seven Namedays old. Gods Aemma and he nearly lost their senses when they saw their beloved only child in the air on her mount. Syrax had barely been large enough to carry his daughter. Nevertheless, she wasn’t experienced in warfare.

But he was much more disturbed by the fact, that his younger brother, the Rouge Prince, would reside on his daughter’s island. With her. And his grandsons. His dangerous, violent and unpredictable brother would keep his daughter company, while her lawful husband was away at war. Even if he could send his entire Kingsguard to Dragonstone or issue and order, Daemon would not listen to him.

His brother was now an estranged figure for him, he did not understand him any longer. Even though he desperately tried to do so. He stood no chance to reach his brother. The famous Rouge Prince. Who would most likely be soon a divorced man. As much as Viserys wanted to believe his brother loved his wife, he knew that couldn’t be the truth. Laena Velaryon gave birth to the child of another man. An insult to her husband. An insult daemon would never tolerate.

The King knew his younger brother would petition the citadel and him for divorce sooner or later. Something they could not deny him this time. Unlike with his first wife, Rhea Royce. Who he did not consummate the marriage with, he had a reason to divorce Laena. Her infidelity. Not even his trusted Hand could find arguments against an annulment.

Speaking of his Hand, Otto had been a nuisance as of late. Always speaking about his son Aegon, praising the young boy, who was barely out of infancy. He was three or four years old, if he remembered correctly. He did not achieve anything in these past years. His daughter on the other hand mended the broken relationship with the Velaryons and made effort to voice her concerns for the realm.

Rhaenyra was his heir since four years now. A woman grown since two years and a mother twice over for four months. Despite her having to care for the twin's she dutifully fulfilled every duty the heir to the throne had. She was present at every council meeting and was actively improving the Smallfolks life. Though, his wife strangely found something new to complain ab about every day.

Alicent was displeased, that Rhaenyra wasn’t giving much coin to the Faith. Instead, his daughter funded orphanages in the city. But his wife seemed displeased by a great deal of many things lately. None of their children’s eggs had hatched, not Aegon’s and not Helaena’s. Once Aegon was a bit older, he would ask Rhaenyra to bring her brother to Dragonstone, maybe one of the hatchling in the Dragonmont would be willing to bond with his son. Helaena had also not bonded with a dragon yet. She was only two years old or something. There was still time, besides not all Targaryesnow bonded with a dragon. Many of his relatives had remained dragonless. 

Since all the eggs in the Dragonpit were already stone and cold, there would be no eggs for Alicent and his next child. Another boy, as his wife and Hand proclaimed multiple times. So it seemed his next child would not get an egg for his cradle. Even though Alicent demanded, that if his daughter son’s egg had not hatched, one of them would be given to her child, as soon as he was born. As far as the Maesters said, his child would be born in two or three moons. Sighting he went to write a relply to his daughter.

My dear, sweet child

I miss you every hour you are away from Kingslanding.....

Targaryens: 

King Viserys Targaryen (34)

Queen Alicent Hightower  (22) (Seven month pregnant)

Prince Aegon Targaryen (4 years old)- egg has gone cold

Princess Helaena Targaryen (2 years old)- egg has gone cold

Queen Aemma Arryn Targaryen (dead)

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targrayen (18) - Syrax 

Ser Laenor Velaryon (21) - Seasmoke

Prince Aerion Targaryen (4 month and three weeks old)-unhatched egg

Prince Baelon Velaryon (4 month and three weeks old)- unhatched egg

Prince Daemon Targaryen (30) - Caraxes 

Velaryons:

Lord Corlys Velaryon (52)

Princess Rhaenys Velaryon Targaryen (38) - Meleys

Lady Laena Velaryon (22) - Vhagar 

Dayana Waters

Chapter Text

Time skip two weeks later 

Today was the day Laenor and Lord Corlys would make their way to the Stepstones. Without Daemon. Her uncle had refused to support them, especially after her father had ordered him to do so. His response had reached them over a week ago. It was shorter than his other letters she had received. He didn't even ask about her son's or hers well-being. Instead, he just rambled on and on about what duty Daemon and she had to the Seven Kingdoms. That the rift between the Targaryens and Velaryons would reopen, if Daemon divorced Laena.

A rift her father created himself when he chose the daughter of his hands over the Valyrian daughter of their cousin Rhaenys. True, Rhaenyra would face the same problems as she did now with Alicent. Lord Colrys would have been another Otto Hightower. Without a doubt, if her father had married Laena, their potential child would have been used by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys to get their blood on the Iron Throne. If Laena had married her father, Rhaenyra would have never been forced to marry Laenor. The greedy Velaryon matriarch and her bitter cousin would have found a way to get rid of her.

Be it poison or through an assassin, they would have killed her to get their grandson on the Throne. At least the Hightowers weren't bold enough to try to outright kill her. They only tried to undermine her and make her life miserable. Alicent enjoyed tormenting her with anything she could think of. Since she was Queen, she could do anything she wanted. Without being given limitations by anyone. No wonder, with a husband, like Rhaenyra's father, who was as oblivious as he unfortunately was, and a father, that was the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms, no one could tell her no. Not even Rhaenyra as Crown Princess.

She may be safer from Alicent's abuse, but she was her former Lady-in-waiting's preferred target. Alicent abused the power she gained from her father's ignorance. King Viserys wasn't aware of what his wife was doing, he even excused all her actions, when they were brought to him. Once Rhaenyra complained to him, that she and Otto removed all her mother's trusted attendants and staff, without reason. The Hightowers sent them home with nothing. Even her mother's sister, her aunt Lady Amanda Arryn, was kicked out of the Red Keep. The King's response had been, that the servants deserved to be dismissed, since it seemed like they hadn't done a good enough job to satisfy their new Queen.

Her father seemed to forget her mother more and more. The woman, he claimed to love the most in the realm, his first and greatest love, the woman that had bled for him, endured endless painful pregnancies and loses. Living and being married to Alicent made him forget about her mother.

Her former Lady-in-waiting was working hard to make her father forget about his first Queen and wife, the Lady, no Queen Aemma Arryn. The daughter of Lord Rodrick Arryn and Princess Daella Targaryen, a noble Lady from a Paramount House and granddaughter of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. She was an important Lady and a Valyrian woman, unlike Alicent, who was the daughter of a second son of a minor House. Though House Hightower was no major House, they had power and influence through the Citadel and the Maesters.

They forced their thoughts and beliefs on others. Thought themselves to be always right. Alicent in her righteousness thought of Rhaenyra as a whore. But she seemed to forget that she was the one who voted a widowed man the day of his wife's funeral. Truthfully, sleeping with Criston Cole was a mistake, she had been angry at Daemon and more than a little drunk. She had hoped the Knight would forget about their night or that it all had been a dream. But no, instead the Kingsguard had asked her to leave everything she knew and loved behind, to run away with him. Denying him, made him angry. Ever since then, he despised her.

While hating her Stepmother, she had nothing against her half-siblings. They were her father's children as well. She did not spend much time with them, because the Greens prevented her from doing so. She wished she could spend time with them, she always wished to be a big sister. Never having the chance with her full-blooded siblings, it looked like there would also be no chance with her half-siblings. Rhaenyra didn't doubt, that Alicent and Otto would raise them to hate her and her children. Most likely painting her as the villain in their story. The villain they had to kill. Aegon, Helaena and the newborn Aemond would grow up hating her. 

Rhaenyra didn't want to hurt her half-siblings, they were innocents in the Green's game. But they wouldn't stay innocents forever. Neither would her sons nor any future children of hers. She wanted to avoid a civil war between the factions of her family. The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself.

The Crown Princess had other much more important thing's to think about. Laenor would be leaving for the Stepstones today. He had been avoided her and their sons nursery. Daemon on the other hand was ever present at their side, barely leaving neither her sons nor her out of his sight. Rhaenyra was glad for that. Having her uncle by her side once again was soothing.

She was used to, at least in her childhood, that Daemon was always a source of comfort. Even more than her father or mother. Both of her parents too busy to really take care of her. Either her nurses or governess or septa's raised her, though she avoided the septa's at the best of her abilities. She did not like or trust those women of the Faith.

But her uncle always had time for her, whatever he was doing, he would lay aside and turn his attention to her. In the past, Rhaenyra had to share her uncle and his attention with multiple things. Now though, it was a nice change that he now had to share her attention.

Daemon had been very silent these past few days, which was untypical for him. He always spoke what he had in mind, but he hadn't done so. Maybe it was her father's letter. She knew Daemon had been hurt, by the words her father wrote. Commanding him to go to the Stepstones, as was his duty as Prince of the Blood. Protecting the Kingdom, with his own life if he had to. Furthermore, her father ordered Daemon to try again with Laena, even though the Velaryon Lady betrayed him. And complete disregarding Daemon's wishes. Her uncle did not love Laena. 

Every other Lord of the Realm would have been granted a divorce without question. Rhaenyra did not understand why her father refused to set Daemon free. It wasn't as if he would kill Laenor once he was free of the shackles that his and Laena's marriage were to him. If Laenor died at the Stepstones, Rhaenyra would mourn her cousin accordingly. And she had two sons already, she had no need for more children. Remaining a widow would serve her just fine.

As always Rhaenyra was spending her time in her son's nursery and watching over them and the little Dayana. All three babes were still so young and innocent. With no care in the world. She couldn't understand why children had to pay for their parent's mistakes. As Dayana was paying for Laena's or Rhaenyra was for her father's or as her own children would one day pay for the mistakes she made. Mistakes were made, so one could learn a valuable lesson and to prevent one from making the same mistake twice.

Somehow that did not work with her father. Rhaenyra loved him, dearly, but his naive and foolish nature made her life very difficult. Especially because he remained blind and ignorant to his beloved second wife's and trusted Hands true characters. They were greedy for power and thought only because Aegon was the eldest of her father's only living sons, it was her half-brother's birthright to be heir to the Iron Throne. She was aware they believed so, because male preference was an Andal tradition. However, there had never been a law, that made sons over girls heirs. The Targaryens of the Valyrian freehold had followed their ancient law of the firstborn inheritance. In their law, the firstborn, no matter if male or female, would inherit everything. A piece of their culture that was lost within Aegon I and his sister-wives generation.

Since her great-grandfathers last years as King, the Andals believed they could force their royal family to their customs. Because the Great King Jaehaerys had called the Great Council. A vote that that decided the next monarch. However, the Lords of the Realm had not decided to name her father Viserys heir, just because he was a male descendant. No, they picked him, because they knew he was easier to lead astray than her cousin Rhaenys. Rhaenyra was aware of the bitter resentment her cousin felt towards her, but at least she could admire the elder Targaryen Princess for being a headstrong woman, who would not be pushed around.

Though, she should have found herself a more loyal man as her husband. Rhaenyra didn't know how, but her cousin-husband had discovered Lord Corlys disloyalty to his mother. He had cheated on Princess Rhaenys multiple times and had at least two illegitimate children. Two boys, who looked exactly like him. If that got out, the Crown Princess didn't doubt that Princess Rhaenys wouldn't be pleased. Maybe she would feed the greedy Lord to Meleys. But one could only hope for such.

Looking down onto her two boy's she could not understand why Rhaenys hated them so much. Only because they lacked the purely silver her of their parents? Did she forget that she was half Baratheon and Rhaenyra's own mother was half Arryn, both families had members with dark hair. It couldn't be just heir hair colour. It was ridiculous to hate her children just because they had no silvery hair like the rest of the Targaryens. True Rhaenyra had wished for her children to be silver haired once, when the rumours started and had been so bad, that she cried herself to sleep for days. Her only company, her two sweet boys.

Because her cousin was celebrating the gods knew what on the Streets of Silk with his companions. Sometimes she asked herself how someone like Laenor could have been the son of the Sea Snake and the Queen who never was. Both intelligent and cunning people. Her cousin-husband however seemed to lack his parent's political skills. Instead of helping Rhaenyra improving their son's situation, he worsened it day by day with his escapades.

Her uncle stood by the window, as he had done so often these past days. Watching their dragons dance in the skies. Twisting and turning around one another. Dancing with each other. Their shrieks couldn't be heard, because Syrax and Caraxes were playing with each other, roaring softly at the other one. Not intending to make their dance known. They would only be seen, if the people looked up towards the sky over the sea. Dragons normally did not like the ocean, at least they wouldn't bath in them. They had no problem with flying oversea and oceans. But dragons were made to fly and reign over the skies, not over the seas. Legends told that sea dragons ruled the deep seas, like their dragons the skies. Though none had ever seen sea dragons.

As majestic as dragons were in the skies, they weren't good swimmers. They could swim, nevertheless their domain was the air. Rhaenyra watched as Syrax and Caraxes flew over the water, made acrobatic twists and turns. Caraxes was chasing Syrax playfully. As they had done so often in her childhood. Her golden Lady was a social dragon, but her favourite of all dragons was the temperamental, violent and unpredictable red serpent dragon.

Just like her rider. Daemon had been her favourite family member and still was. After her two sons of course. Aerion and Baelon were the two most important people in her life. She would lay down her life for her twins. They were more important to her than anyone else. Of course Rhaenyra loved the rest of her family. Her father, her uncle, even her cousin's and half-siblings. But her sons were different from her other family members. They were a part of herself, born from her womb. She had given birth to them, under hours of pain and torture. Her beautiful twins were worth every second of pain she endured. They were worth being miserable for nine months during her pregnancy. As soon as she held them against her chest she was completely utterly charmed by them. Nothing would come in between her and her children.

Knowing that they were in danger, made her realize, that the Red Keep was no longer safe for her family. So she had agreed with Laenor and accompanied him to Driftmark. Afterwards she would have remained on Dragonstone, even if her father ordered her return. Dragonstone was her seat, the seat of the Iron Throne's heir. An island, a sanctuary for Rhaenyra. Far away from Alicent's poisonous words and Otto Hightowers network of spies. Some people on Dragonstone would be without a doubt paid by Otto to spy. But Rhaenyra planned to find them and make them pay for their disloyalty. Whoever posted a danger to her children was an enemy of hers.

Which was why she was grateful and thanked the Fourteen Flames, that her uncle wasn't one of her enemies. These past weeks had opened her eyes. Daemon wasn't a family man, he didn't like children. Her mother had always told her that she was the sole exception. Daemon did not get along with Rhaenys and he had expressed his annoyance with Laena and her father Lord Corlys multiple times. Neither did he truly like Laenor. Daemon and her father had fallen out with each other long ago. Daemon seemed to only be able to stand her sons and her in their family any longer. Mentioning her half siblings made him angry.

Many people believed her uncle to be a violent, dangerous, unpredictable and insane man. Rhaenyra knew better than those people. Better than her father, better than Alicent or anyone else. Her father warned her of Daemons chaotic manner. Alicent had warned her of Daemon's ruthless and dangerous manners, calling him a vile man, a heathen and a godless man. The oh so pious Hightower Queen did not accept any other gods besides her own. She despised all those who were not a follower of the Seven Who Are One. No one should be forced to give up their beliefs, because a person could not stand to accept other opinions.

Covering the three babes with a blanket, to stop them from catching a cold because of the cold sea breeze, she stood up from her seat next to the two cribs. Originally these cribs had been build for each twin, but her twins refused to sleep separate from each other, so Rhaenyra let them sleep in one crib. Which in turn meant one crib was useless. Now it was used to give Dayana a comfortable place to sleep. Not that the three babes did anything else than sleeping and screaming or crying when they were hungry.

Despite Daemon's persistence she refused to give up feeding all three. She had more milk than most mothers, being a mother of twins. Of course, she had help from wet nurses, but she didn't need their help. She had more than enough milk for all three. And when her boys stopped needing it, she would have to seek help from wet nurses to keep Dayana fed. The poor girl was still being ignored by Laena. Rhaenys had no time to care for her granddaughter. With Corlys departure, she would be regent of Driftmark, as Lady Wife of the Velaryon matriarch.

Laena still had no interest in Dayana. If she was awake, she was denying her son's death vehemently or slept thanks to the Maesters potions. Rhaenyra pitied the Velaryon Lady. Losing a child and never being able to have more children, was a hard thing for any woman. She couldn't comprehend such pain. Couldn't imagine the pain she would fell if she had lost one or both of her twins. But she also knew that it was Laena's own fault. Not her son's death. A child's death couldn't be influenced by anything other than poison, which the Lady couldn't have consumed. 

Her uncle had as much fault as Laena. She knew now, that Daemon refused to bed his wife, only consummating the marriage and nothing more. His wife had tried multiple times, but never succeeded. So she turned to other men, taking her pleasure and becoming pregnant from one of her lovers. She didn't begrudge Laena anything of that. Having lovers was normal for any Lord, but for Highborn Ladies it was like a death sentence.

The children had looked nothing like Laena or Daemon as official father. No one could argue that Daemon could be their father. Even if they had Baratheon hair, their eyes and their complex looked nothing like their relatives. So it came to light that their mother had affairs with men from Dornish ancestry. Which would explain the children's complex. Rhaenyra felt pity towards Laena, but her pity was more directed towards her daughter. Dayana was like her third child. An innocent girl, that had been born into an unjust world. A world that would hate her, just because of her mother's actions.

The Crown Princess thanked the Fourteen Flames that her uncle agreed to take Dayana as his ward. The girl would be under his protection and responsibility. Her uncle would decide her education and anything else. Rhaenyra didn't doubt that he would be fair. He would not like the child, he rarely liked anyone, but he would be fair. Daemon protected those who could not protect themselves and punished those responsible for other people's pain. Which was what he had done with his Gold Cloaks. An army, that was still fiercely loyal to her uncle.

Making her way to her uncle, who was standing near the window, as he often did, she stopped beside him. Covering herself with a coat, she watched their dragons. So much like their riders. Though it had been Rhaenyra who chased after Daemon. "They look like they are having fun.", Daemon commented, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. He always watched her. Wherever she was, he was a few steps behind her. His eyes on her, silently protecting her. Rhaenyra hadn't felt so safe as in the last two weeks. Having Daemon at her back, knowing he was there, protecting her twins and herself, was a soothing feeling. It warmed her heart and filled it with gratitude.

Naturally, she had Ladies and Knights in her household, who were loyal to her, but they couldn't be her friends or her family. Her family either didn't like her or ignored her. Daemon and her mother had been the only two people who did neither. With her mother's death, Daemon had become her sole comfort. Especially these past two weeks. He had reminded her, once again, why he was her favourite family member. She had witnessed her uncle's soft side. Silently watching as he told stories to the three babes, watching over them, while she was asleep from exhaustion. True she was on a so-called family holiday, she still had her responsibility as the Crown Princess. Duties she wouldn't neglect, not even while she was on Driftmark.

Having Daemon to watch over her children, while she was busy fulfilling her many duties, was helpful. She was more than grateful for her uncle's assistance. He had simply said, that it was no problem nor any major difficulty for him. Her uncle was a famous swordsman, protecting infants, that couldn't crawl yet, wasn't difficult for him at all. Definitely much easier than having to run after her in her childhood, when they were playing hide and seek or were chasing each other playfully. Much like their dragons.

"Uncle.", she called, and immediately his head turned towards her. His beautiful purple/violet eyes were shining brilliantly in the light of the sun. Those eyes looked like her grandfather Baelon's eyes. The eyes her own son shared with them both. A fact, that made her cry often. She missed her grandfather. The wise and gentle, but firm man that took her flying on Vhagar. Spend time with her, setting his duties aside, to spend time with his only grandchild.

Baelon, The Brave, Targaryen, named the Spring Prince had been an honourable man, would have been a fantastic King, but he died a horrible death. It took only five days for him to die. Five days and the powerful dragonrider of the largest living dragon lay dead in his bed. Rhaenyra remembered the painful, sad weeks after his death. Which had been the most glorious days and weeks of Otto Hightowers life. After Baelon's death he had become the King's Hand. And continued to be the King's Hand when her father took the Throne.

“They do look like they are having fun.”, she agreed with him. A small smile spread in his face. A genuine smile only few people ever got to see. A smile that only appeared when he was talking or seeing their dragons. Or while Rhaenyra was alone with him in her children’s nursery. Once upon a time he had gifted that smile to her father as well, now she imagined he wouldn’t even smirk at her father, like he did with everyone. Daemon most likely would ignore the King if he came face to face again. Something he would avoid. Rhaenyra hadn’t dared to directly ask Daemon about his feelings towards his brother.

“Are you alright?”, she dared to ask. “I’m fine. I am simply enjoying our last day on this wretched island.”, he answered. Rhaenyra scoffed lightly, she knew her uncle did not enjoy a single day on Driftmark. He didn’t like the climate on Driftmark or the company here. He spoke only passing pleasantries with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. Only the gods knew where Laenor had been these past two weeks. And Laena was confined to her bed, still recovering from Dayana’s birth.

“Your jokes are as lame as always uncle.”, she rolled her eyes, but caught the mischievous expression on his face. “Wait until we are on the way to Dragonstone niece, Caraxes will outpace your Golden Lady.”, he threatened playfully. “Please, Syrax could fly circles around your poor old dragon and still win a race even if we would give you two old men a head start.”, she replied, quickly getting out of his reach. “The audacity of you, sweet niece. Wait and see.”, he lowered the tone of his voice and smiled at her. A promise of vengeance for calling him old.

She knew her uncle was only thirty namedays old, though he still had no children. Uncommon for a man his age. To her surprise he treated her sons as if they were his own. Even if only their eyes looked Targaryen. He cared not for her son’s appearance. Stating that they took after their Arryn and Baratheon relatives. He even went so far as to compare her eldest son to his uncle, Laenor’s grandfather Aemon. Her son’s complex was only slightly darker than her own, and much lighter than their father’s. Only their eyes and their lighter complex spoke of the twins Targaryen ancestry.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at his promise and sat down beside the cribs once again. Daemon walked up next to her, one of his hands on his famous sword, which he was never seen without, he placed the other on her shoulder. Bending over to look into the cribs. “How are the boys?”, he asked. Looking down on them, while her sons looked up to their great-uncle with curious gazes. It hurt her heart how quickly they were growing. In a few moons they would be already a year old. The first few moons of their lives had passed so quickly.

”I know what this expression means little dragon.”, Daemon spoke up, his gaze sweeping towards her. “They are safe. Nothing will happen to them.”, he tried to soothe her. “I know. I worry nonetheless. I am their mother, I will always worry.”, Rhaenyra answered, but still leaned herself against her uncle for support. Nothing had happened to her sons, no attempts on their lives were made. Not like they had been in Kingslanding. Here on Driftmark she didn’t have to fear Alicent and her schemes and plots. She didn’t have to worry about any of the staff to betray her, but her worry was still present. She saw possibilities everywhere. True Aerion and Baelon were safe from Alicent and Otto here, in their father’s home, but other dangers lingered here.

Rhaenys hated her boys, even more now that they would officially be her only true-born grandchildren. Laena had no chance to bear more, her only daughter would be regarded as a bastard by the realm. A fate the cute babe did not deserve. Rhaenyra wasn’t sure if they would truly try to kill her sons, seeing as her second son was Driftmark’s heir, a position both woman would have liked to be inherited by one of her daughters children. Both women were still bitter, because they lost their inheritance. Rhaenys was overlooked for her father, Viserys. Laena had been overlooked in favour of her younger brother Laenor.

Rhaenyra never trusted her father-in-law. He was a hypocrite for supporting her cousin's claim, but ignoring his daughter’s claim on Driftmark. Normally, if she had a good relationship with her sister-in-law, she would have supported Laena’s right to become the next Velaryon matriarch and Lady of Driftmark. But regarding her treatment of Rhaenyra and her manners, the Crwon Princess didn’t care for her situation. All she cared about was protecting Aerion and Baelon, as well as now Dayana. Laena could be as petty as she wanted, but if she or Rhaenys dared to threaten or try to harm her sons, they would learn what it meant to stand against a very angry nearly full-blooded Targaryen mother.

She knew Rhaenys was half Targaryen, because her father was Aemon Targaryen, but her cousin looked only like a Targaryen and behaved more like a Baratheon. And followed her mother’s Houses words. Ours is the Fury. She knew Rhaenys was a cunning, ruthless and clever schemer, a dragon in moments she needed to be, but even Rhaenys wouldn’t be safe from her wrath should she make a move against Aerion or Baelon.

Neither would Laena. The Velaryon wife of her uncle was more Velaryon than Targaryen. She looked like one and acted like one. Most Targaryen could barely stand being on a ship for long, Laena as daughter of the Sea Snake could spend days on a boat, as could Laenor. Rhaenyra herself hated boats, she despised travelling on them. Why would she need to travel by ship, if she had a dragon. Her Syrax could bring her anywhere she wanted much faster than any ship. But with children so young she was forces to travel by boat. She was scared to test her son’s health. So she endured the torture of being on a boat for days to get to Driftmark.

Laena fancied herself a Targaryen, even though she still wanted to be addressed as Velaryon. She was a dragonrider, though Rhaenyra did not understand how Vhagar could have chosen the arrogant Velaryon as her third rider. Still, the old dragon must have had a reason for selecting her. Maybe the dragon had seen potential in her, potential that was waisted. But Rhaenyra didn’t care, it wasn’t as if Laena would fly to war with Vhagar.

“As long as I breathe, nothing will happen to your children or you.”, he promised. “The Greens or Velaryons will not touch the twins. I swear by my name and my blood that I will protect them.”, he swore. “You do not have to swear anything to me, uncle.”, she said softly. Nonetheless, she appreciated his sincere words. He smiled. And kissed the top of her head. A gesture that nearly made her jump in shock. In the last two weeks he had kept himself controlled. He only touched her shoulders or arms or waist for short moments, subtle moments he allowed himself. But he never kissed her. Not even on her head.

He laughed lightly at her shock and caressed her shoulder. “Breathe sweet niece.”, he commanded. Slowly she let out a shacky breath, keeping her eyes locked on her son’s faces. They looked like they were going to cry soon. Most likely hungry already. “Uncle.”, she didn’t need to explain her request to him, he understood her without words. He nodded and straightened himself. “I’ll be with the dragons. I’m back in an hour.”, he stated. Nodding lightly, she squeezed his hand for a short moment. He left her side to care for their dragons for an hour only. Not risking leaving her alone for longer. He never explained why, but she was aware, that he did not trust the Velaryons guards stationed at the nursery door. Her attention turned to her children. Her sons were wide awake, while sweet Dayana was still fast asleep. Aerion, her oldest, now demanded attention and food. Chuckling she laced the front of her dress open to let her son drink without obstacles.

Half an hour later

Her boys fed and hungry no more, Dayana still sleeping, she thought she could have a little peace and quiet. She thought in her last day on Driftmark she wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. Thought the Velaryons would have been to busy with the departure of their Lord and his heir, to disturb her. However, she thought wrong. Before Rhaenyra could really react, the door to the nursery was violently thrown open. Not by Daemon, he would never have made so much noise. Her uncle was as silent as an assassin. No, it wasn’t her uncle or her husband or her good-parents that intruded so rudely into the Crown Princess sanctuary. Without an invitation.

Laena Velaryon came into the room like a raging storm. Rhaenyra would have sighed if she wasn’t so agitated by the Lady’s expression. Her hair was wild and untamed, flowing open over her shoulders and back, her mane tangled. Her eyes wide open and angered expression on her face. “Lady Laena, what are you doing here?”, she asked her sister-in-law. Carefully choosing her words. Worried if she spoke the wrong words, Laena would snap.

And she did. “Don’t play around with me, Rhaenyra!”, she hissed. “You know exactly why I am here!”, she accused. Rhaenyra had no idea what she was speaking of, but she suspected it was about Daemon. “I do not Lady Laena. I have not seen you in weeks. So please explain, why you intrude in my son’s nursery, without announcing yourself.”, she asked. Her voice calm, her expression collected. Laena and Alicent were similar. Feeling entitled to what they thought should be theirs. They were both arrogant and thought themselves to be Targaryen, just because their husbands bore the name.

“I have very right to gain access to any chambers in this castle. I have been born and raised here. Driftmark is my home. My father’s castle. You are an intruder and do not belong here. Nor do your sons.”, Laena nearly screamed. “Please calm yourself and lower your voice.”, she asked. “I can be as loud as I want, Rhaenyra. Driftmark rightfully belongs to me. I can let you be thrown off this island any time I want.”, she responded, anger shimmering through. Laena was out to provoke a fight. Rhaenyra didn’t know why she was so bold, but it could be to bring her into an uncomfortable situation. But why would the guard let the weak, beloved Lady of their house insides the royal princes nursery?

“You are not the islands Lord Lady Laena. Nor, I will have to remind you, are you the heir.” It was harsh and unfair to say such things, but the blunt truth nonetheless. “How dare you! You truly think you are entitled to get everything you want, don’t you!?”, Laena made a step towards her. Which caused Rhaenyra to stand up and stepping in front of the cribs. Unsure what her angry sister-in-law would do.

“Your father named Laenor his heir. Baelon is his son and heir. If you want to be angry at someone, then it shouldn’t be me or my son.”, Rhaenyra answered. Her agitation was rising. She felt Syrax agitation rising as well. Her Golden Lady always responded to her emotions. Her Golden Lady roared loudly from the cliffs she had made her temporary nest, as long as they resided on Driftmark.

“Do not mock me, Rhaenyra. You take what you want. First your son gets what should belong to me and now Daemon ignores me and our daughter, because you are all he cares about. You are at fault. I have lost everything because of you...” “Do not make me responsible for the loss you suffered Lady Laena.”, Rhaenyra said sharply. She would not stand for being held responsible for something she held no control over. Lord Corlys was the one who named Laena’s brother his heir, he was also the one that declared her son Baelon as Laenor’s heir. Rhaenyra had nothing to do with that.

Honestly, she would have preferred it if her children had the surname Targrayen and would be pure blooded Targaryens. She wanted them to be Daemon’s sons, but she also loved Laenor as her cousin, and he deserved at least a little appreciation. Despite his little help in the past months, he was at least there. And unlike the rest of her family he wasn’t filled with ambition for the Throne. He wanted nothing to do with it, but his father’s greed drove him to accept their marriage.

“Don’t you dare play the innocent fool here. You took my inheritance from me. Your bastard is set to inherit what should be mine and my children’s seat. Thanks to your presence Daemon doesn’t even look at me. Our son is dead because of you!”, she shouted. Rhaenyra stepped back, Laena hadn’t slapped her physically, but mentally it felt like she had. All her life, Rhaenyra had been seen by many people, even her own father, as a child that survived while her precious brothers didn’t. Why had she survived her infancy and her brother, her father’s heirs, hadn’t? A question that followed her for the better part of her life.

“I have nothing to do with your son’s death. You are accusing me of a crime I have not committed. I would never harm a child. And Daemon is his own person. I am not making him do or not do anything. If he doesn’t want your company, that is his choice. Until two weeks ago, I haven’t seen Daemon in the last two years. I will not be made responsible for your misfortune. I am not at fault. So please calm yourself, and leave these rooms.”, she commanded. Fearing that the situation would escalate, she wanted to end it peacefully and fast.

“No. You do not command me in my own home! You are holding my daughter hostage and you are keeping Daemon away from me!”, she screamed. The insane look in Laena’s eyes scared Rhaenyra. If her sister-in-law remembered that her twin boys were in the room, would she attack them in her state? “I have been caring for your daughter the past two weeks. You refused to care for your child, she wasn’t feeding, she would have died as well. I am keeping her here, because…..”, she tried to explain, but was cut off when Laena slapped her, hard. Rhaenyra gasped as her head flew to the side. The loud noise awakened the three sleeping babes. Aerion, Baelon and Dayana began to cry.

Laena’s gaze travel to the cribs, and she attempted to walk towards them. Rhaenyra automatically stepped in Laena’s way. The Lady wanted to go to the crib, but Rhaenyra blocked her.“Leave, right now.”, she ordered. Fear was pushed down by rage and desperation. The children’s safety was at stake. Syrax roars shock the castle, her dragoness landing on the castles roof. Feeling her riders distress she roared her anger out for all the world to hear. “Guards!”, the Crown Princess called. She wanted Laena gone from her room, clearly whatever the Maesters shoved down her throat wasn’t good for her.

“You have no right to keep me from my daughter, Rhaenyra. Step aside. I will not listen to someone who humiliated my family and convents my rightful seat. I wish you were gone. You should have died in childbirth like your mother!” That hurt much more than the actual slap. “Guards!”, she called out to the knights, Corlys and Laenor had stationed on her sons nursery door.

No one came. “Guards?”, she called again. No guards came through the door. Laena raised her hand again. But both women were caught off guard when Daemon shoved the door open. He entered the room, looking furious. His entrance was followed by Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys and Laenor. “One wrong move, and you will loose your head.”, Daemon hissed at Laena, shoving her in her mother’s arm and standing as a protective wall in front of Rhaenyra. Laenor nearly ran to her side and checked her face and their boys. His eyes franticly searching for any other injuries. He didn’t ask what happened, he simply kept standing by the cribs, making sure Laena had not harmed their boys.

“What is my daughter doing in here, Princess Rhaenyra?! Why have you summoned her, when you know very well she should be in bed!”, Princess Rhaenys raged. “I did no such thing, Lady Velaryon. Your daughter came in here screaming, without being announced or invited, she started to accuse me of killing her son and holding her daughter hostage. I tried to urge her peacefully to return to her quarters, but she refused.”, she explained, gripping the back of Daemon’s tunic, keeping him from speaking up.

“Do not lie, Princess..”, Rhaenys tried to argue, but was interrupted by her own husband. “Enough Rhaenys. Bring Laena back to her chambers and take care that she will remain there. Do not try to spin any tale of yours here. We all know and heard the guards. Laena sent them away, not our daughter-in-law.”, he silenced her with a harsh glare. Both Velaryon women tried to protest. “Husband, you should be on our daughter side!” “Father, I am the victim here. She took everything from me!” “Silence child. Your behaviour is what has got us into this situation. You will be lucky if the King doesn’t demand your head for laying a hand on the Crown Princess and trying to harm her royal sons!”, the Sea Snake practically vibrated with rage.

The redness of Rhaenyra’s check couldn’t be played down. Laena had slapped her rather hand, and the accessories on her hand had even left a scratch on her face. “She has my daughter. I want my daughter back. Daemon, please she is also yours!”, now the desperate woman tried to draw Daemon on her side. “Neither your daughter, nor your son are children of mine. They were Velaryon bastards. She is a Waters and never will be a Targaryen. You have exhausted the last of my patience. You attacked my niece, the Heir to the Throne, your future queen. I should execute you for that alone.”, her uncle replied, his teeth gritted and looking like he would snap at any moment. Caraxes angry and high-pitched screeches was hurting her ears, but her heart was thundering loud enough to tune out the dragons roar.

Rhaenyra was on the verge of fainting. Her cousin would find some way to turn the fault to her, she was sure, everyone always made her responsible for their misfortune. She wasn’t able to hear the rest of the conversation, because her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t hear anymore. Daemon guide her to sit down and gave her multiple cups of water, to hydrate her again. Her son’s wails distracted her and with her mind absent she began to rock the crib a bit. Rhaenyra only watched as Lord Corlys and Laenor very nearly dragged Princess Rhaenys and Lady Laena away. At one point Daemon had drawn his sword and screamed at their relatives, Caraxes echoing his anger. While her golden lady sat on the roof, her golden head next to the window. Her green eyes watching her distressed rider.

Lord Corlys promised to find more trustworthy guards, who wouldn’t be sent away by his daughter. But Daemon refused, stating, that after today they wouldn’t be here anymore either way. Her father-in-law wanted to protest, but was too occupied with his wife and daughter. Then she was left alone with Daemon, her boys and Dayana.

“One night, Rhaenyra. First thing in the morning, we will take our dragons and leave for Dragonstone.”, Daemon whispered in her ear hours later. She had finally calmed down from her shock. Her uncle had explained that she had a panic attack, but her nerves were calmer now. They were in the large Kingsized bed that was standing in her son’s nursery. She was sleeping here, because she had thought it to be the only room, expect the library, where she could be safe inside Driftmark. Clearly she had been wrong. Driftmark’s staff was more loyal to the Velaryons. Not a bad thing, if only they were as loyal towards her sons.

“Please don’t leave me.”, she begged her uncle, when he attempted to stand up. “I won’t. Never again.”, he swore, gathering her into his arms and cradling her trembling body. She had felt powerless today. She should have been the second most powerful person in the realm. As heir to the throne, she stood far above Lady Laena. But her position had done nothing to protect her in this situation. Which made her realize that her position could not protect her in many situations. She would have to learn to defend herself, for her own sake as well as her children’s sake.

“Sleep Rhaenyra. You’ve had enough stress today.”, her uncles' deep voice soothed her. His warm body and presence calmed her fuzzy head. A dozen of thought flew through her mind, but she would deal with them tomorrow. Tonight, she was too exhausted and tense to think straight.

Chapter Text

Keeping his word from yesterday, Daemon woke Rhaenyra to let her know they could depart as soon as she was ready. He had woken up, when the sun rose above HighTide. Checking on Rhaenyra's boys and Laena's bastard. As always he observed the girl without any emotion. He felt no sympathy or hatred for her. Just indifference. She had no fault in her mother's behaviour. She had no choice to be born like that. But that did not mean she would be treated like his own. Rhaenyra's sons he would treat as if they were his own. They were his blood after all. His niece was their mother. 

Dayana shared Rhaenys blood, but after yesterday's incident he refused to see her as family. A family member would have helped Rhaenyra. Instead his bitter cousin made his beloved nieces life harder. For which he would collect retribution soon enough. Nothing would hurt his jealous cousin more than having her dear daughter humiliated and away from her. He was done being taken advantage off. First by Viserys, always the same play with his older brother. When he needed Daemon he called him back, but as soon as Viserys had enough of him or when Daemon did something to annoy him or make him jealous, his brother would send him away once again. 

He was used to by now. Before the Great Council, both his brother and his cousin had been obvious. They wanted to use him as a tool, to guarantee their reign. But he had sided with Viserys, because his father taught him, that blood came over anything. He and his brother should always protect one another and be on each others side. Viserys seemed to have forgotten their father's lessons quite fast. And Rhaenys wasn't much better. 

His cousin always thought herself above so many others. Thought herself to be smarter and better than anyone. However she would still have needed Daemon's help to win the Council. Rhaenys had promised him to annul his marriage to Rhea Royce and let him chose his own match. Back then he believed her, but picked Viserys side, because despite everything he was still his brother. And deep down he knew, Rhaenys or Corlys would have killed Viserys, Aemma and Rhaenyra if Rhaenys was crowned heir. Something he could not let happen. He knew better now. Rhaenys would have annulled his marriage, only to force him to wed her oldest child. To wed Laena, to keep the Targaryen name on the Throne. Because her ambitious husband wanted Velaryons on the throne. Like every other Lord in the realm. All he wanted was a boy of his own blood and his own name on the throne.

At least with Rhaenyra's eldest son, he would get his bloodline on the throne. Not his name, because he was known to the realm as Aerion Targaryen. Without a doubt Corlys wanted the boy to have the Velaryon name, at the very least until he ascended the Throne, but his clever and witty niece, had presented him to her father, the king as Aerion Targaryen. And so he never gained the name Velaryon. To be honest he saw less and less of Laenor in these boys with each day. 

His nieces features began to dominate. He noticed little things with the twins. They definitely had Rhaenyra's temper, though they were less vocal about it. Only when they were particularly hungry. Practically all the time. They may have had Laenor's blood and one had his curls, otherwise they looked like copies of his late cousin and father. Aerion truly looked like Aemma, like Rhaenyra. Baelon on the other hand looked like his namesake. And a little bit like himself. Daemon inherited his father's eyes after all.

Daemon also had noticed slight changes in their hair. Baelon already had a few silvery streaks to his, but in the past weeks Daemon had observed that the colour grew more intense. And Aerion dark hair was on it's way to lighten. The Rouge Prince had yet to inform his niece of the changes he observed. Not wishing to break her heart, if his guess was wrong. Though he doubted he would be wrong. The two heirs hair would change couloirs, he was sure of it. 

But would remain silent until it truly happened. The twins were nearing their first nameday. Their eggs had yet to hatch, still they remained warm. Unlike his so called nephews and nieces cradle eggs, they had turned to stone rather quickly. If his experience was correct, the eggs could hatch in the next few weeks. What everyone seemed to forget was, that a dragon chose it’s rider. So even if the eggs could hatch, it would not necessarily be for Rhaenyra’s sons. Maybe gifting the twins another egg would prove to be more effective. The Prince tried to talk about her son's eggs with his niece, but every time she shut the topic down quickly. It wasn't hard to understand why. The rumours surrounding her twins scared Rhaenyra. She was nervous because their eggs had not yet hatched. However he was sure the boys would take after their mother in that regard too. Rhaenyra had been the first to have a cradle hatched dragon since Daemon's grandparents. 

Syrax hatched weeks after his nieces birth, a welcomed surprise. Back then he had already seen, that Rhaenyra was destined for something great. Unlike the rest of his family, except his father, Daemon had not been disappointed, that Rhaenyra was born as a girl. The exact opposite in fact. He had been delighted. First because her birth meant he would remain his brother's heir, should he be king after the Old King. Soon however these thoughts vanished and were replaced by the love for his niece. From the first day of her life she had him wrapped around her finger.

Should she ask him to, he would burn down the whole of Westeros. He would execute the Hightowers today and even go so far as to slay his own Kin. Nothing would ever keep him away from his niece again. If he had to kill his own blood to stop their family from getting in between them, he would do it in a heartbeat. There was nobody more important to him than her. 

Not his brother and definitely not his cousins. Once upon a time he had loved Rhaenys, but that stopped, when she claimed Meleys. His mother's dragon. When she landed, she looked smug and satisfied. She knew what a blow it had been for him. After his mother's death, he desperately wanted to claim Meleys, because he was one of the few pieces left of his mother. And Rhaenys took her away from him. The wound she reopened had only healed a bit, when he bonded with Caraxes. Unlike Rhaenys he waited the appropriate time, to let the dragon mourn his first rider. Caraxes had come to him, or rather called to him. After finding him, he claimed the Bloody Wyrm and ever since he was a part of his soul. A part of his heart. The other part was occupied by Rhaenyra. 

Truthfully, when the twins came into his sight for the first time, he had thought about killing them. Alongside Laenor. So he would have Rhaenyra for himself. Furthermore she would only give brith to his children, Valyrian children. Without a doubt he would have done it, if he had not seen how Rhaenyra behaved around her two boys. It reminded him of Aemma. His darling-gentle sister who lost her life because of Viserys. Aemma whose heart withered away with every new dead child. Who grabbed onto Rhaenrya and loved her more than anything. Rhaenyra looked at Aerion and Baelon the same way Aemma looked at her in her childhood. A gaze full of love and devotion. 

Then and there he had realised if anything happened to these two boys, Rhaenyra's heart would shatter into thousand pieces. And not even he or any children he could give her would be able to mend her broken heart. Sure she would love their children, but a part of her would be broken by her first and second borns death. Nothing would heal that wound, nothing would soothe her sorrow. So he abandoned his original plan to kill his wife, her husband and her children.

He adjusted it, so it would only involve Laena's and Laenor's demise. Though he would not have to necessarily kill Laena. Sending her away to the Silent Sisters or sentence her to be banished to Driftmark, never again allowed to leave her beloved family's island. That way the Greens would also have no chance of any of their halfbreeds claiming Vhagar.

Laenor was another matter entirely. He may have fought with him in the Stepstones, but other than that he was a coward he left no impression behind. Laenor denied his own nature and his behind Rhaenyra. The Velaryon heir refused to help her, instead he made her situation much worse. Daemon would have to arrange his death, because Laenor was a danger to Rhaenyra. And he simply would not let him be one any longer. Of course Rhaenyra would never agree to his plan. His sweet niece possessed a kind and golden heart. Despite his failures she loved Laenor, as a family member. Nevertheless he would make her see the necessity. Sooner or later, Laenor would no longer stand in his way.

His great-nephews would become strong knights and dragonrider, he would see to that. Daemon silently swore to protect their innocence as long as he could. They deserved a childhood without worries. Unlike him, they would have a loving mother who would never leave them as long as she lived. And he would raise them alongside Rhaenyra. He wasn't their father, and maybe they would never see him as such. He would love them regardless, because they were his niece's offspring. 

Daemon watched the boys and Laena's bastard girl a while longer, then he directed the servants to load his and Rhaenyra's belongings onto the ship. No matter when they would leave, dragon were much faster than ships. Their things would land on Dragonstone a few days later. Dragons could reach the island of their ancestors within a few hours.

It did not take a long time for the servants to load all their belongings onto the ship. The servants would also leave with the ship. The Rouge Prince did not need help with his niece. He was perfectly capable of dressing and caring for her. Daemon was careful with and was trying nit to make it muh noise. Screaming babes was not how he wanted his niece to wake up. And truthfully he did not want to wake them up just yet. They deserved their sleep. They would after all fly for hours straight soon enough. And he would rather not have a screaming babe with him while he was flying home.

Neither Rhaenys nor her daughter had come to them again. His cousin knew he would kill them both if they threatened Rhaenyra or her boys again. He would feed them to Caraxes if they took a wrong step near his niece. Caraxes had eaten more than enough humans, so he would not have any complains. Corlys would without a doubt be angered, but too intelligent to risk his own life. Viserys would be tempted to call for his head, though Rhaenyra would protect him. Besides he was the one who had a dragon.

None of his older brothers Hightower children had any dragons. Rhaenyra would never attack him and nor would Laenor. Caraxes was a battle hardened and tested dragon. Unlike any other dragon, other than Seasmoke. The young grey dragon bonded to Laenor was young and still inexperienced, just like his rider. Seasmoke and Laenor would stand no chance against him and Caraxes. 

Ripping them apart would be easy enough. Daemon would do anything for Rhaenyra and her husband was a burden he would have to get rid off. Laenor was a nuisance, for now however he was safe from him. Until he came back from the Stepstones. Because first of all he had to get rid of Laena. How he wasn't yet sure. After all he had more than one possible plan to get rid of her once and for all.

With a soft shake he rose his niece. Of course he would have loved to wake her up by kissing her, but he was sure that barrier was still between them. And he did not wish to risk the fragil trust she had in him. The past weeks he had worked hard to make her trust him again. He knew about her reservations and her limits.

Rhaenyra's heart had been broken by him multiple times. She had been disappointed by many important people in her family. Her father ignored her for his dream of a male heir. Her mother was to weakened from every miscarriage. Her cousins were far away from her and their interaction through letters were limited thanks to Otto Hightower. Her former Lady-in-waiting betrayed her with sleeping with Viserys behind Rhaenyra's back. Her children were threats to Rhaenyra's reign. Contestants to her throne. Though he knew his beloved niece did not saw them as such. Not yet at least.  

With fluttering eyes his niece began to wake. „Daemon?", her voice still hoarse from sleep. „It is time to wake up, sweet niece.", he said, brushing the silver golden strands of hair away from her face. „Good morning.", she whispered. „Did you rest enough?", the Prince asked, a little worried since she still seemed half asleep. „Yes I'm fine.", she answered.

„If you say so niece. Come now, we will depart as soon as you are ready.", Daemon informed her. „What of our belongings and our people?", Rhaenyra asked. „Already on the ship and they departed about half an hour ago." “You work fast uncle.”, she mused. “Of course, I do not wish to spend a minute longer on this wretched island than I absolutely have to.”, he answered. “Of course, how silly of me to think otherwise.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow. “Careful niece. You should not tease me too much.”, he warned. “I wouldn’t dare to uncle.”, she fired back. Sighning he shock his head, but left it at that. Arguing with her was pointless, he always ended up agreeing with her anyway. Well most of the time at least. Daemon was very well aware, why Rhaenyra behaved like she did. She continued to call him uncle, but never spoke his name. A barrier that still stood firmly between them. The walls around her heart were high and thick, something that was partly his fault. And he would be patient, would wait until Rhaenyra herself willingly lowered her defences.

Naturally she was much more relaxed and comfortable around him now, but only weeks ago he would have never imagined to gain a portion of her trust so quickly. Nonetheless he held no illusions over his situation. Rhaenyra was still young, her memories fresh and hurtful. Embarrassing as it was, he truly was ashamed of some of his actions of the past. Not that an apology would make anything better. Though apologising would be a great start. 

“If my maids are on the way to Dragonstone then who pray tell should help me dress uncle?”, his niece asked now, throwing the blanket of her body and standing up. Only in her nightgown. Sure he was sleeping in the same bed as her, but he did not touch her. He did not dare to, not yet at least. He did once, in the brothel without truly asking for her consent and look how that turned out for him. Back then he had been so close to deflowering her, to take her then and there, but thank gods he stopped second before. Then he ran away like a coward, left her alone and confused and angry. Still when he showed up at her weeding day, she still offered him another chance. She challenged him to kill her father’s guards a take her to wife on Dragonstone. 

A challenge he nearly accepted. But then the fight between Criston Cole and Laenor’s lover broke out and he left the feast. Something he deeply reverted. Even more than his marriage to Laena. He was a coward and hat yet to apologies for it. Because he feared Rhaenyra’s reaction. His niece was a kind and just woman, but she never forgot a slight. Had always been rather quick to anger, but every Targaryen was like that. Their dragon blood ran hot and true. 

They were the last true targaryens. Laenor and Laena were only one quarter Targaryen. Viserys son and daughter were half Targaryen. He and Rhaenyra had more Targaryen blood than any other, even her own sons. Who were mostly Targaryen, but also had Arryn and Baratheon blood in their veins. Not that he had anything against those two houses (alright he did not like the Arryns but that was simply because they were of the Vale and he hated the Vale, thank to his first wife). 

After Laena and Laenor’s death he would ask Rhaenyra to marry him. He would beg her to become his wife if he had to. And he would wait for long years if his niece saw fit to make him wait. Never again did he want to decide over her head. Though he wanted to change, he knew it would be difficult for him to do so. After all he was nothing mire than a man in love with a woman that seemed content not to even remotely talk about the subject of her remarriage. 

Daemon knew that Rhaenyra was somehow aware of his plan. Not all of it of course, but the outlines of it. She knew he wanted to kill Laena and Laenor and had not said a word about it yet. Unlike most other woman she was not scared of his true self. He was a bastard, a selfish, cruel and ruthless man. That much he could admit. He would cut the Hightowers throats the minute Rhaenyra asked him to. He would burn down castles and burn armies alive if she desired. He would let the enemy drown in their own blood for her. Commit the worst of all crimes if it meant Rhaenyra was safe. 

Rhaenyra was his everything. Aside from Caraxes, she was the sole thing that mattered. Maybe Aerion and Baelon too, but only because they were his nieces flesh and blood. Truthfully Daemon doubted he would or could love his own children as much as he loved Rhaenyra. He knew his fixation on her wasn’t normal. Many would see it as obsessive and dangerous. Not normal. But all citizens of the Seven Kingdoms knew that Daemon wasn’t a normal man.

A Targaryen could only ever be truly happy with another Targaryen. Which was why his father never remarried after his death. Which was why the Old King grew even more insufferable after Alysannnes death. It was why Viserys grew weaker in mind and body after Aemma’s murder. They lost their other half, a dragon only mated once in life. Though Viserys did not heed his forbears example and married an Andal woman. 

Long ago, when Alicent Hightower had still been Rhaenyra’s companion and Lady. He acted friendly and less aggressive around her back then. Only because her existence was of importance to Rhaenyra. Otherwise he did not care for the girl. Now, that she revealed herself to be just as power hungry as her father, he would loved to kill her for her actions. Tormenting Rhaenyra every day for the past two years. Seeking to replace his late-sister Aemma. Overreaching with trying to talk his brother into naming her eldest son his heir. His nephew, a word he would definitely never address the Hightower child with, that title was reserved for Rhaenyra’s twin boys only, was a young boy. By andal law or tradition he would come before Rhaenyra in the succession. But the Hightowers forgot one tiny detail. Targaryen weren’t Andals. Their succession laws and traditions were different. 

Honestly he had no idea why Aegon ruled and not his sister Visenya. Since the Valyrian succession was based on the firstborn, not the gender. Though he knew why his grandfather had called a Great Council, instead of naming an heir himself. Because he was simply too much of a coward to make his decision alone. Technically Rhaenys was the actual heir. As eldest child of the eldest child. But the Kings word also was law, and Jaehaerys decided to skip the drama and let other people decide. Which gave them the feeling they could actively interfere in the Targaryen family’s affairs. 

A grave mistake, they would soon come to realise. He would make sure no house would forget who ruled Westeros. His niece had been vulnerable and alone back in the Red Keep, partly his fault. Nevertheless she managed to gather a few allies. The Arryns would always stand firmly behind her. Rhaenyra had Arryn blood, Aemma’s family would not leave one of their own defenceless. Many of the Crown princess employees were of the Vale.

Sooner or later they would have to invite others to strengthen her relationship with the realms powerful Houses to assure her claim. Now he was focused on her body though. Politics could wait till tomorrow. Then he would sit her down and finally talk some things through with her. And without a doubt he would get his ass kicked for many things he would say. Not that he wouldn’t deserve that, he did, but Rhaenyra had to realise that she was to inactive.

Otto and the Greens on the other hand were actively trying to undermine her and her claim. They were trying to forge alliances already, to secure armies for the future. Of course he understood his niece had her hands full with her twins, unlike Alicent who barely care for her children, leaving them with their maids and wetnurses. But she had to show her own initiative, she could not afford to take any House for granted. Not if she truly wanted to become the first Queen Regent in her own right. He would support her in any way he could, even if that meant he would have to kill someone of his own blood someday. Aegon, his brothers son, the first who lived longer than any of Aemma’s boys, was a challenge to Rhaenyra’s claim. A challenge that his niece did not want to see yet. 

Despite her Lady-in-waiting’s betrayal, she seemed to adore her half-sibling or at least she felt no resentment or hatred towards them. Saw them not as an enemy, but as her family. Daemon did not, his opinion was drastically different from hers. If he didn’t know Rhaenyra would turn away from him, if he dared to kill the Hightower whore’s children, he would order their death within a heartbeat. As far as he was concerned, the only family he had left were Rhaenyra and her boys. Otherwise he only acknowledged Rhaenys, her children, Viserys and his children as estranged people, that shared blood with him. And he would rather die and be welcomed into Balerion’s realm, than to call a member of House Hightower family.

“Me of course who else?”, he retorted. She chuckled in response and smiled slightly. “I suppose you know enough about women’s clothes uncle.” Daemon nearly winced, but reimagined still. He would have to learn to live with her teasing, but sharp remarks. Not that she was wrong. After all he fucked many women in his life. He was an expert at undressing women. Helping them dress was a different matter entirely. “You will not be wearing one of those stuffy court dresses sweet niece. I will have you known, that I am indeed quite skilled at helping you dress yourself for the flight.” 

Putting on her flying leathers was much easier then having to dress her in one of those dresses the court seemed to expect every day. He wouldn’t mind if she wore her riding leathers forever. Or nothing at all. But it was better to not say anything out loud. Otherwise it would lead to him becoming Syrax’s next meal. Though the spoiled golden Lady of his niece wouldn’t eat him after all. To used to getting sheep and cows served by the dragonkeepers. 

It dawned him, that he would also have to  talk to Rhaenyra about Syrax. The golden she-dragon was indeed very fast, but her growth had been influenced by her laziness and the chains of the Dragonpit. Unlike Caraxes who rarely was chained down, she was much smaller. Being free on Dragonstone would also do Syrax some good. Maybe the spoiled Golden dragon would finally start to hunt for herself. 

“I see. Would you please….”, Rhaenyra was interrupted by one of her sons before she could finish her sentence. Daemon chuckled and glared playfully in the direction of the crib. “Your son seems adapted on hoarding all your attention.”, he complained. “Come now Uncle, don’t be so dramatic. I have to feed them, otherwise they will start screaming on the flight. I do not think that would be a nice experience.”, Rhaenyra scolded him. Walking past him and taking her wailing second born son into her arms. Of course it wouldn’t, still those little boys would not leave Rhaenyra alone for many years to come. Children needed their mothers. Sometimes Daemon thought children needed their mothers more than their fathers. 

Many times in his youth he dreamed about having his mother with him. Of course he loved his father, Baelon the Brave had been the best father a man could have wished for, but he had changed after Daemon’s mother died. His heart shattered, but still he tried his best. These boys would not lose their mother. He would not let anything happen to Rhaenyra. 

He had grown used to the sight of Rhaenyra barring her breast in his presence to feed her hungry sons, but his reaction always remained the same. His cock hardened from the sight alone. If he was a man with less self-control he would have already tasted those delicious looking breast. Would have devoured and worshipped her body through fully, many many times. But he had fucked things up once before, now he wanted to do things the right way. The long way if he had to. All his life he was used to taking the easy way.

Violence and anger were more often than not his solutions for everything. That would not be the answer to his situation with Rhaenyra. Here he needed patience and a strong self control. His niece was a tempting woman, who looked gorgeous in every situation. Never in his life had he seen a more beautiful woman than her. Of course he had came in contact and fucked hundreds of woman. Beautiful, gorgeous and exotic women, but none compared to his niece. Compared to her all others were nothing. Even those of Valyrian decent.

From the day Aemma had laid the little bundle that was his niece into his arms, he had fallen in love. His relief of not being replaced as his brothers heir washed away by genuine love and affection for his princess. His future Queen. To be honst Daemon had been hurt to be replaced by his niece. She was without a doubt a better choice as heir as he was, he couldn’t deny that, but it still hurt to realise just how easily Viserys replaced him. The reminder, that his own brother hated him enough to shun him hurt.  

Viserys had changed after their mother’s death, always their father’s favourite, the Spring Prince had given his eldest son more of his time, though Baelon the Brave tried to make up for it during sparing sessions. The King changed even more around the time he was named as the heir to the Iron Throne. Both his brother and cousin were power hungry deep down. All Targaryen were, Daemon was no exception. But above all he wanted his family to survive, to stay strong. So many of his aunts and uncles died. The only ones left were Septa Rhaella, an old woman many had forgotten about. Archmaester Vaegon, a Targaryen Prince that lived in the citadel in Oldtown and turned away from his family. And his exiled aunt Saera in Lys. While he traveled in the Free Cities he had meet her a couple of times. And it pained him to say it, but he could not stand Saera. She was a bitter and cruel woman. Her empire build on the service of others.

But what she did was none of his business. As long as she did not pose a threat to Rhaenyra he would leave her alone. Regarding Archmaester Vaegon, he debated the positive and negative aspects of contacting him. And Rhaella was devoted to the Seven and the citadel. At least that was what he believed her to be. He never met her and could barely remember his only living aunts and uncle. The great Targaryen dynasty had many members once many years ago, now they were a handful of true Targaryen’s left. His bother had lost his way many years ago. Always more human than dragon. His grandfathers inner dragon vanished in his elderly years. His uncle and father died in their prime. His aunts dying in their children’s birthing bed.

Gentle Aemma’s mother, Daella, his own mother Alyssa. His sweet aunt Gael, drowning herself after her son died, only a few years older than him. Viserra died in a horse riding accident. And Saera fled Westeros. Septa Maegelle died of a sickness she treated, being given to the faith when she was young. His aunt Daenerys died in her cradle, as did his uncle Valerion. So many Targaryen’s dead. All of Aemma’s children, except Rhaenyra. A fact he thanked the Fourteen Flames for each day. A few babes of Rhaenys were lost to, even though they were technically Velaryons not Targaryen’s.

When he was informed of Rhaenrya’s pregnancy he had feared for her life. Fearing she would die in the birthing bed like her mother and her grandmothers. But no she remained strong during the pregnancy, was carful and trusted few people. Which was good because Daemon suspected the Maesters had a large part in Aemma’s inability to birth living children, or in the children’s inability to live long. It was suspicious for him, that besides Rhaenyra none lived very long. Rhaenrya was not born in Kingslanding. Instead she had been born in the Vale. On the way back to the capital. Or rather under the wing of Vhagar and the watchful eye of her grandfather. 

His clever sister Aemma had hidden her pregnancy from everyone, even from Viserys. She had gone to visit her family. Spent months in the Vale. And only began her journey back when she was nearing the end of her pregnancy. All of the Vale had know about her pregnancy, none had informed the King or Aemma’s husband. Instead they had sent a raven to his father, Prince Baelon, a few days before Aemma’s journey began. What word the letter contained he did not know, but his father had immediately flown to the Vale.

And Daemon had accompanied him. Viserys remained in the capital with their grandfather. Even though daemon offered to take him on Caraxes and fly him ot his Lady wife. Viserys refused and reasoned, that he should stay by the Kings side. So Rhaenyra was born while he listened to Aemma’s screamed and his father paced in front of the carriage his sister was giving birth in.

Daemon had distracted himself with Caraxes. His dragon unusually quiet and calm that day. Daemon had been used to a grumpy and snappy Caraxes, but on that day he had been rather affectionate.

Baelon had been the first to hold Rhaenyra in his arms, then it had been Daemon's turn. For a short moment he was gleefully happy Aemma had not given birth to a son, but one deep look into Rhaenyra's eyes and the tiny princess had him rapped around her fingers.

"I will leave you to it then. Our dragons will be ready when you wish to depart. Send a guard to me when you are finished. I will saddle them accordingly to our journey.", he informed her, watching her every move. No other woman, no other mother would have allowed him to remain with her or even to be so close to her children. Her actions assured him, that she trusted him at least enough to be a capable protector. "As you wish uncle. It will take a while, so you don't have to rush things." "Hm, until then princess." "Until then prince.", she responded. Now turning her full attention to her two boys and the girl she had talked to ward. Technically Dayana was his ward, but Rhaenyra was her primary caretaker. His niece already seemed to love the child a great deal. 

With one last kiss on her forehead he departed the nursery and left to see to their dragons. He only left her alone, because Daemon trusted the guards he had stationed at her door. Two men he knew very well and who owned him their lives. They would protect his niece with their lives. 

And neither Rhaenys nor Laena were dumb or foolish enough to try and attack her again. Or at least Rhaenys wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t kidding when he wanted them to stay away from his niece. He would kill them both, no matter the consequences. If he had to kill the whole Velaryon family to achieve his goal then he would. Laenor had to go either way, otherwise he would not be able to marry his niece. If Rhaenyra accepted or not was a matter for later. Laena would be easy enough to get rid of. Daemon could divorce or kill her. 

Should Rhaenys get in his way, she would suffer the same fate the rest of his enemies had. As for Corlys, the spineless Velaryon would not be a problem. He would be at the Stepstones anyway. Therefore out of his way. And neither his cousin nor her husband would be able to blame him for their son’s death. So many soldiers died in war. Rhaenys own father was an example. His uncle Aemon died from a lucky shot of an enemy archer. Right through his throat. That was the end of the former Crown Prince. 

His own father, Baelon Targaryen, had avenged his elder brother’s death killing thousands in his rage and grief. Once upon a time Daemon would have done the same for Viserys. But now there was only one important member of his family left for him. Rhaenyra. And Aerion and Baelon as well he supposed. But only because Rhaenyra loved her sons so much. Otherwise he would have killed these two boys without hesitation. 

Each day they looked more and more like their mother, which endeared them to him. Once their eggs hatched they would also prove their Targaryen line was superior. Laenor was their true father, even though for some time he had hoped that wasn’t the case, they had Velaryon blood. Even though they barely had any silver hair.

Since they were Rhaenyra and Laenor’s children they were more Targaryen than Arryn, Velaryon, or Baratheon. The boys only had a quarter or so Baratheon blood in them, since Rhaenys was only half Baratheon. And they were one quarter Velaryons. Since Laenor was a half Velaryon quarter Baratheon and Targaryen. So the twins had much more Targaryen blood in their veins and barely any other. Though it seemed their Arryn and Baratheon lineage was enough to make their hair dark. 

How his brother’s other brats got complete Targaryen colouring was a mystery to him. With their mother’s filthy Andal blood in their veins, to him they would never be true Targaryens or part of his family. None of his brother’s brats eggs had hatched yet, but his nieces sons eggs had also not hatched. As far as his information went, his brother’s children’s eggs turned to stone. His great nephew eggs on the other hand remained warm. Daemon was sure as soon as they arrived on Dragonstone, their eggs could hatch. Or they could find them new ones. 

Dragonstone was the home island of many dragons. Most of them hatched there. Silverwing, Vermithor and Dreamfyre did. As did Meleys, Caraxes, Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost, Cannibal (though none knew how long the cannibalistic dragon already lived on his ancestors island). Only Syrax and Seasmoke had not hatched in the Dragonmont. Syrax hatched in the capital and Seasmoke on Dragonstone. Balerion had been the last dragon to hatch and live in Valyria, while Vhagar and Meraxes had hatched on Dragonstone. 

Caraxes had not been resting on the cliff he normally did, so Daemon went to search for him in the cave system of Driftmark. He was aware that Meleys, his late mother’s dragon, nested in one of those. But her nest was on the other side of the island. 

Daemon did not need long until he found the nest his dragon built. Or rather the cave his temperamental Dragon had taken into his possession. Caraxes red scales weren’t what caught his attention. Instead the yellow golden scaled of his niece’s dragon Syrax caught his eye. Syrax was underneath Caraxes. His dragon was half on top of the younger she-dragon and the rest of his body was curled around Syrax. As soon as the red serpent dragon noticed him he lifted his head. 

Growling lightly at him. “Hello boy.”, he greeted his dragon and chuckled a bit, as always Caraxes was in a mood. The dragon blew smoke into his face. “Come now boy, I did not mean to disturb you. But we will depart in a short time. My niece will be cross if we aren’t finished by the time she comes.”, he said. Caraxes huffed and lowered his head once again. “Caraxes, get up.”, he ordered in Valyrian. “You can spend as much time as you want with Syrax in the caves of the Dragonmont once we are on Dragonstone.” That seemed to calm his dragon a bit. At least he stopped growling at him. 

Syrax rumbled a bit, but remained silent otherwise. Caraxes snuggled closer to the she-dragon who began to purr? By the Fourteen Flames they were mates. Somehow in the past weeks no one had noticed that they nested with each other. Whenever he had come out to fly a round with Caraxes, his dragon had always been waiting for him on a cliff. Syrax had flown free, because his niece had her hands full with her twins, so she barely had any time for her dragon. 

Syrax seemed to have sought out Caraxes to keep her company. All the while they seemed to have become mates. Which was amazing. Rhaenyra would be delighted to know that her Syrax was finally mature enough to mate. Because her son’s eggs weren’t from one of Syrax clutches, no they came from Dreamfyre, as so many others did. Syrax was one of the few eggs, that did not came from Dreamfyre, but from Silverwing. Maybe if Aerion and Baelon had eggs from their mother’s own she-dragon they would hatch quicker. Dreamfyre eggs tended to get cold more often than not. A fact no Dragonkeeper could find an explanation for. 

Syrax had been one of the last eggs that hatched from Silverwing. Seasmoke belonged to one of Dreamfyre’s clutches, as far ans he knew, and the other hatchlings were born on Dragonstone. Or more likely the two hatchlings. Still unarmed or most likely already killed by the cannibal. The only ones left in the Dragonmont. 

His great nephews eggs were still warm, but he assumed just like the rest of Dreamfyre eggs they would not hatch. Not hatching did not mean going cold. A few eggs remained warm and still hatched when the dragon were ready and found their rider. Like Syrax did. Syrax golden egg had been one of Silverwing’s oldest. It had been one of the oldest in the Dragonpit. Nevertheless it remained warm. And then the she hatched for his little niece. Maybe the golden-yellow she-dragon had more success or rather luck. With how clingy Caraxes was, Daemon assumed Syrax was already carrying his eggs. 

The Rouge Prince knew his dragon was as possessive as he. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her. Dragons mated for live. Just like Vermithor and Silverwing, Caraxes and Syrax would spend the rest of their lives together. Should anything happen to either of them the other dragon would mourn forever and would seek revenge. 

“Seems like we both found our partners for life, old friend.”, he murmured. Caraxes let out a roar. His dragon agreed. His whistling roar was answered by the softer roar of Syrax. The she-dragon lifted herself up, Caraxes let her stand up and spread his wings as well. “Hello Syrax.”, Daemon greeted his nieces dragon. Syrax sniffed the air and put her snout against his chest. He chuckled and caressed her face scales a bit while keeping an eye on his own dragon. Male dragons were often much more temperamental than females, especially when their mates were carrying eggs. Their instinct told them to protect and provide for them. Rhaenyra's dragon was a rather spoiled one, never had to hunt for herself and most likely would never have to, now that she had Caraxes by her side permanently. Or maybe his old boy would teach the younger dragon to hunt for herself. 

“What do you say boy, will you let me saddle the two of you so we can take off to Dragonstone?”, he asked his dragon. Who only gave a low whistle as an answer and then lowered his body down onto the caves ground. The dragonkeepers of Driftmark, send from Dragonstone to tend to Meleys, Vhagar and Seasmoke, had managed to get the saddles of both dragons without any incidents. Impressive, normally Caraxes devoured one or a dozen limps during the process. Syrax was a calmer and more docile dragon, though she also had quite the temperament. Like his sweet niece. Over the years he had learned to saddle his dragon without help, so the steps were easy enough for him. Caraxes even behaved this time. Getting the saddle on Syrax’s back was a bit harder. The she dragon liked him well enough, but preferred to be touched by her rider. So Daemon had to saddle her slowly. It took much longer to get the saddle on her than it had taken with Caraxes. 

Finally he secured the last piece of the saddle. After an hour or even more. His niece most likely was ready for departure now. As soon as he stepped out of the cave he sighted one of Rhaenyra’s guards. “The crown princess is ready for departure, my Prince.”, the man informed him. “Good, tell her to meet me at the cliff, she will know which one I mean.”, he instructed the man. “As you wish my Prince.” Bowing his head the guard left again. “Caraxes, Syrax.”, he called the dragons. His came out first, following after him was Syrax. With a closer inspection and better view thanks to the daylight her belly looked bigger than before. But that was a matter for another time. 

Daemon spotted the silvery golden hair of his niece in the distance. Just as he expected she looked gorgeous in flying leathers, even more so than in any gown she possessed. Because right here and now she was in her element. A woman born to be a dragonrider, the first one to mount a dragon at the age of seven Namedays since the Doom. Syrax let out a happy roar at the sight of her beloved rider. Hastily stepping forward to meet her. Daemon was ready to step in, because Syrax seemed over existed and with two, or rather three babes, that could get dangerous. Even though he assumed Rhaenyra had already introduced her sons to her dragon. And he was right. Syrax slowed down a few meters away from Rhaenyra and lowered her head. Sniffing the babes in her riders arms. Both giggled happily and attempted to touch the she-dragons snout. She let them. It was a beautiful scene to watch. The gentleness the dragoness showed seemed to reflect a mother’s affection. After all his niece and Syrax were one heart and one soul. Syrax most likely saw the two little boys as hatchlings of her rider. Hatchlings, a good name for the twins. 

“Hello niece.”, he greeted the lovely woman. Dressed in black riding leathers, decorated with golden scales and her hair braided, she looked as fierce as Visenya. “Hello uncle. Is everything ready for our trip?”, she asked him, after Syrax let her go. Still hovering above her rider, keeping an eye on potential dangers. Syrax may be untrained and not a tested war dragon, but she would kill whoever posed a threat. Dragons did not debate for long, they simply acted. Daemon was more than happy that he had gotten Rhaenyra to speak to him in Valyrian again. He had missed this. Talking in their mother tongue. Once they were on Dragonstone he would set his plan into motion, then nothing would stand between her and him anymore. “Everything is ready. Caraxes and Syrax are saddled and our belongings are already on their way. Your household as well.”, he confirmed. “Before we depart uncle. You will have to take Dayana. I cannot fly with three babes.”, this time she spoke in common. “Of course princess.” He refrained from grumbling and took the girl from her arms. He would have missed her grin if he looked away a second earlier. She won this round, but there were many more to come. In the last couple days his niece had made it her goal to endear Laena’s daughter to him. He did not try to stop her, it was enough for him to know she would give up on her own sooner or later. 

Like the Crown Princess, the Rouge Prince strapped the young babe to his chest. Rhaenyra had strapped one of her sons to her chest the other to her back. One last time Syrax sniffed at them, then the yellow-golden dragon lowered herself to the ground. Making it easier for Rhaenyra to climb on her back. With often practiced movements she secured herself in the saddle with chains. Caraxes wined and bummed his head against Daemon’s shoulder. “Yes, yes, I will hurry. But first, Caraxes meet Dayana. She will fly with us to Dragonstone.”, his dragon looked at the tiny creature and blew out smoke. “Only this once boy. After this trip you won’t have to let her on your back again.”, he promised. 

Dragons were intelligent creatures, they could tell who had Targaryen blood flowing in their veins. However people with only a tiny amount of dragon blood were hardly welcome near them. The Bloody Wyrm growled but was distracted when Syrax took off with a few powerful beats of her wings. Feeling his dragons eagerness to follow his mate, he climbed on Caraxes back, secured the chains and took the reins into his hand. “Fly Caraxes. Forward if you don’t want to lose sight of your lady.”, he ordered. Second later the serpent like dragon launched himself off the cliff, following after Syrax. 

He couldn’t understand how Viserys didn’t seem to miss flying. Admittedly, he had only flown on Balerion once. Back then the Black Dread had been old, wounded, tired and in his last year. Shortly after Viserys first and only flight the Black Dread died. No one knew why, but Daemon suspected whatever wounds he got in his time in Old Valyria had killed him after years and years of weakening the once mightiest dragon of the Targaryen dynasty. A shame he was dead, but the Fourteen Flames were responsible for all life of Valyrian decent and for dragons. Balerion’s time had come, now he was reunited with his lost mate, Meraxes. History books said Vhagar was Balerion’s mate, but Daemon knew that male dragons could have up to three mates. Most choose to only have one, Balerion was the only dragon Daemon personally knew of having more than one mate. 

Joyous laughter reached his ears and he looked over to Rhaenyra, who was flying beside him. He knew she held Syrax back, so Caraxes could catch up. His beloved mount was an agile dragon, built for war and vicious attacks, but Syrax was swifter and her body was build for speed. Once she grew larger the yellow-golden dragon would without a doubt be even faster than Meleys. Who was currently the fastest dragon alive.

The Rouge Prince couldn't wait for his new life to begin. He would finally have everything he ever wanted. Living with Rhaenyra in their ancestors stronghold, having her near him. Having her company he missed so much these past two years. No matter how long it would take, he was determined to regain her full trust. Once Laenor and Laena were out of the way, he would ask her to marry him. And not even his brother would be able to take his happiness away from him. Should he try, Daemon would prove that Viserys had pushed him far enough. His brother had made to many mistakes, Daemon’s forgiveness was at it’s end. It was enough, no one would take Rhaenyra from him ever again. Each and every enemy of hers was now an enemy of his. All of them would burn, should she ask him to. Other than that he would gladly be her shield and protector for the rest of their lives. Laenor had failed miserably to provide protection for both Rhaenyra and the boys, now it was Daemon’s turn. 

Chapter Text

After hours and hours of flying on dragonback after months of remaining on the ground, her muscles ached. But her blood sang with the satisfaction of finally being able to glide through the air again. Oh, how she missed this freedom. Rhaenyra had truly missed her Golden Lady's agile form. The feeling of the fresh air on her face, the wind blowing through her hair, and the happy roars of the dragons.

Many believed dragons were simple animals, but a Targaryen knew better. Dragons had their own minds, thoughts, and feelings. They rarely interacted with humans other than those of Targaryen blood or the dragonkeepers. Normal people, with origins like the Andals or the First men, those people weren't welcome by dragons at all. Neither were the Rhoynar. Most dragons stayed clear of Dorne, maybe they somehow knew that one of their own was killed in Dorne, through dornish weapons. Scorpions were the only known weapons to ever kill a dragon. Meraxes, Queen Rhaenys silver she-dragon died because one lucky shot of a scorpion aimed at her eye and hit her. In one of the few vulnerable places of the dragons.

Despite her uncle's beliefs, Rhaenyra was aware of the danger her half-siblings posed to her. Neither had a dragon yet. Their eggs were stone by now, and they had yet to claim a grown dragon or a hatchling from Dragonstone. The Crown Princess would have thought, that the Hightower Queen or her father, the Green Hand, as Rhaenyra had begun to call Otto Hightower, had already asked her pliable father, if her half-siblings could go to Dragonstone and try their luck on claiming one of the dragons from the Dragonmont. Luckily her servants had informed her, no such request had been made yet, from either of those two.

Alicent despised the Targaryen customs, Rhaenyra was sure her stepmother would be happy to never see a dragon near her children. Because for a simple Andal woman as her, dragons were mindless beasts, that should not exist. Since they were the embodiment or rather the reminder of House Targaryens might and their customs as well. Otto Hightower, on the other hand, knew the values of dragons better than his daughter. Having a dragon meant having a certain amount of power. Power they would need sooner or later. Once her current half-siblings and those that were yet to come, since her father did not seem to stop producing new heirs with his second wife, were grown up, they would be even more of a threat if they were dragonriders. She had no doubt the Green Queen and her father would raise them to hate and despise her and any of her future children. Would be raised with the desire to kill her children and her. Because they believed her half-brother Aegon should rule after their father, only because he was a male, born with a cock.

As if that tiny detail made that much of a difference. Not to Rhaenyra at least. But to many Lords of the realm, especially those from the reach and the Westerlands, cared about that detail. Until her dreadful marriage to Laenor, she had thought the Velaryons to be allies of hers. A part of her family she could count on. They had disappointed her, just like her father had. Both he and her distant family members left her alone in her hours of need. Laenor tried his best to help her at court, but his efforts only went so far. Court was too stressful for him, like a cage. More often than not he left the Red Keep, entertaining his lovers on the Street of Silk. Being away for most hours of the day.

She did not blame him for seeking escape, but while he escaped the horrible court, she was in the centre of it all. Only her beloved boys made it bearable for her. And her friendship with her sworn sword Harwin Strong. Though, she had to distance herself after the rumours began to spread. Harwin had been a good friend, his presence had eased her mind, but it only further increased the already intense rumours. Therefore, she began to keep her distance, but gossip remained. Of course Rhaenyra knew who started the first rumour, who spoke treason first. Her former friend and lady-in-waiting. Now her stepmother and the new Queen Consort. Alicent Hightower.

Rhaenyra had always been aware of the woman's jealousy, but she ignored it because of their friendship. She knew better now. She should have sent Alicent away long ago. Or shouldn't have taken her into her service at all. But the Princess learnt her lesson well. Now she had many ladies, but did not dare to truly form a bond of friendship with any of them. Maybe she would attempt to start it, once she felt more comfortable, once she was back home. Safe on Dragonstone, with Daemon as her guard.

Her son's safely away from the green vipers and their poison. She had no doubt that sooner or later the Greens would try to kill her children. With Daemon at her side, she had the best chance of survival. He was the security she needed. Her boys required a man, a father figure, that would teach them to defend themselves, with weapons. Something Rhaenyra could not teach her boys. Besides, her uncle had taught her all about dragon riding, their ancestor's language, customs, and traditions. She wanted the best teacher for her twins. And that was none other than Daemon.

Her uncle had hurt her more than many others had. But unlike the others, he had apologized and was in the process of proving himself to her. Daemon was trying to be better, but she knew of course people never truly changed. The fear of being disappointed by him once more, was ever present in her mind. Lingering at the back of her consciousness, preventing her to fully open up to him. To fully trust in him. He had promised her things she hoped he would keep, but man were liars and would do anything for their ambitions. The question was, what ambitions did Daemon have?

Would he someday stab her in the back again? Leave her to fulfil his own ambitions? Would her sons be in danger? No, of that she was sure, Daemon could be brutal and ruthless, but he wouldn't hurt her little twins. Daemon was a Targaryen that value their blood and their family above everything else. Those he considered his family, had his absolute loyalty. His own definition of loyalty did not align with those of many other people. Her uncle's own morals and opinions on loyalty were different from those of other men. Not even she was able to understand them fully. Even for her, her uncle remained a mystery in certain aspects. Maybe that would never change, but right now, on the backs of their dragons, hearing his laughter she was reminded of the early days of her childhood.

All the stories of Old Valyria he told her again and again, after she begged him for more stories. As well as all the trinkets and jewels he bought for her while he was away. Daemon's care and love was expressed differently than for example her father expressed his love. Though Rhaenyra wasn't sure her father ever truly loved anything. Daemon was more the physical type. He was the type to express his feeling through touch. While the King used empty words to make his affection known. Rhaenyra much preferred soft touches and small but sincere actions to express herself. Which was also why she got along with Daemon so well.

They were similar to one another. Both misunderstood and neglected by their father or in Daemon's case brother. Both belittled and misunderstood by others. Their love for their dragons and the Valyrian culture was the same. Their tempers were also of a similar kind.

Despite their many shared personality trades, she felt a bit uneasy when she was with him. She was still not completely sure if she could trust him with her son's lives. Of course, she knew he would never hurt her, she was his niece and likely the only person he felt truly connected to thanks to the time they spent together in her childhood. But his past mistakes spoke volumes about his character. Would he truly be able to look past her son's appearances or their parentage?

If, one day Daemon married her, would she find her sweet boys dead in their beds? Would he want to replace her firstborns with his own sons? Rhaenyra felt horrible thinking like that, but she couldn't help herself. One upon a time, before her twin's birth, the most important things to her had been gaining her father's approval and later on her claim as heiress to the Iron Throne. Now however her sons were the single most important thing to her. Her claim apparelled less significant to her, if she had to choose between her sons lives or the Throne, she would choose her sons.

Her sweet, innocent boys, who did no wrong other than being born with the hair colour of their two grandmothers maternal and paternal family's. She had prayed to the Fourteen Flames, that her son's hair would turn white soon. To stop the rumours from hurting them. To keep them out of harms way. No matter how alike Aerion and Baelon looked to Laenor, barely anyone cared. Only her twins two grandsires cared about their resemblance to Laenor.

Yet she had not assembled the courage to ask Daemon, she hadn't even dared to use his name. Instead, she continued to call him uncle. Her heart had been broken, and her trust had been betrayed one too many times. What she saw as betrayal and what daemon saw as one were two different things. But these dark thoughts would do her no good. They would only spoil her good mood.

She could finally return to Dragonstone. The safest home she had known in all her life. Living on Dragonstone the first few years of her life, after her father was named heir, were the best. Dragonstone was secure and for her bore mostly happy memories. While the Red Keep reminded her of all those she lost. Her beloved grandfather, Baelon the Brave, her second son's namesake. Her darling mother, Aemma Arryn. After whom she hoped to name her daughter one day, should the Fourteen bless her with one. And her dead brothers and sisters. Aegon, the only brother that survived infancy, her older brother, who died when she was two. Daella, her stillborn sister. Rhaegar, her stillborn brother. Valaena, one of her sisters, who that died in their mother's womb. And other unnamed babies. Though in her head she had dozen of names for her dead siblings. Then finally Baelon. The babe her mother died for. Her little brother who died in her arms, mere hours after their mother.

Eventually Rhaenyra could learn to love her father’s children from his second marriage, but they would never truly feel like her siblings at all. Those Titles solely belonged to her mother's children. The Crown Princess did not want to see her half-siblings as a threat, she wasn't ready to view innocent children as a danger to her claim. But truthfully, it wasn't the danger to her claim, that they represented. At least in her eyes. No, instead for Rhaenyra they were a threat to her children's safety and life's. She simply knew Alicent and Otto as well, would raise her half-brothers to hate and despise her and her sons. To want them dead. Which was why she was glad none of their eggs hatched yet. She didn't care that it made her a bad person, but she prayed to the Fourteen, to keep it that way. If her half-siblings remained dragonless, they would be easier to deal with.

Honestly she despised the thought of spilling her father's blood, but should they prove their disdain for her children, she would take ensures to protect them. Rhaenyra was relived, that Daemon had not shown any obvious ill will towards her sons. Though he had expressed his dislike of Dayana. The innocent daughter of Laena Velaryon. Once upon a time, the princess had hoped to become friend with he Velaryon lady. Thought of them as kindred spirits. They both loved dragons and hated womanly practices.

Rhaenyra had been sad when she realized her cousin did not like her and hated her for holding Daemon's affection. In these past few days on Driftmark it had become clear to her, just how deep Laena was in her own delusions and how deep her jealousy and hatred ran. Right now, on Syrax back, with her boys strapped to her, she felt free for the first time since years. The court was stiff and a nest full of poisonous snakes, that were waiting for one small misstep. If they saw a weakness, they would strike immediately.

Syrax roar tore her out of her thoughts. Her spoiled dragonness speed up and flew faster. Before she had deliberately held her lady's speed back. This was her sons first long flight. It was already windy enough. Aerion and Baelon were still very young and vulnerable to illnesses. That was at least what the Maesters of the Red Keep told her after her sons birth. If she could believe their words at all. After all the Maesters were those who were responsible for her mother's death. Because of their incompetence or rather their unwillingness to tell the truth of her mother's condition, Aemma Arryn died. Her queenly mother could have continued to live.

Rhaenyra knew not why her father had pressured her mother to bear babe after babe. If Laenor had dared to say such a thing or if her father or Lord Colrys had said such a thing to her face, she would have fed them to Syrax. Women were meant for more than only childbirth. Once she was Queen, she would show all these Lords, that she was capable of ruling the Seven Kingdoms. But she was aware, that she had to start long before that. These past years she had been too lenient and passive. She should have done more, instead she let herself be belittled by Alicent and the Queens Ladies.

For to long she had stayed silent. Let Alicent run her mouth and let her father’s blindness harm her claim, endanger her own family. Let her husband’s family’s ambition and greed take over a part of her life. For long, she only wanted one thing, to be accepted by her family. Once she had admired Rhaenys, a woman trained to be heir. The woman who should have been the first Queen sitting on the Iron Throne. But the Great Council denied her the opportunity to be the first Ruling Queen Regnant.

After her little brother’s death, Rhaenyra was named heir by her father, though even she believed such was only temporary. Until her father’s Small Council convinced the King to marry again and produce new heirs. One of them would then surely be male, who would replace Rhaenyra as her father’s heir. All the Hightower's and their supporters believed they won, when Aegon was born. Rhaenyra had been angered when the babe’s name was announced. A half Andal child should not have the same name as the Conqueror. And he should not have the same name as her actual brother. Her mother’s only living son. The heir her father had wanted for so long.

And the Hightower's had the audacity to name their supposed heir after her dead brother. And her father had let it happened. Rhaenyra would have raged publicly, but she knew better and held her tongue. Originally, she had wanted to name Aerion Aegon. To honour her brothers and mother’s memory. But this chance was snatched away from her by Alicent. Her former Lady-in-waiting had known how important the name had been to her. Rhaenyra had shared her wish with her years ago. The audacity of her stepmother knew no bounds.

At least she had three beings who loved her unconditionally. Her Golden Lady and her twin boys. Nobody else would love or respect her without reservations or conditions. Not her father, who either wanted to see her as his little, fragile girl or the embodiment of her mother. Not Alicent, her jealous former friend, who despised her nom. Not any of the citizens in Westeros, they saw her as Targaryen princess, who should stay silent and bend the knee to her younger half-brother. The Velaryons saw her as means to an end, to further strengthen their line. But at least her second son would inherit Driftmark and High Tide. Her line would continue the Velaryon bloodline.

Even Daemon’s love for her was filled with conditions. It hurt her that her favourite person was not able to love her as she was. Only with her dragon and her children, she could truly let go of her political facade she had to keep on in public. Only with them, she could be herself. Once upon a time, Daemon was her favourite person and the one she told everything to. The hole he left in her heart after her weeding had begun to close, once a few months, or rather two years had passed. With his constant presence at her side, the wound could either close or reopen.

Time would tell if Daemon could become one of her closest confident once again. As of now, she did not have a close friend. Her ladies were just that, her ladies. Maybe she would be able to trust them sometime in the future. Most of them were still in Kingslanding anyway. Her husbands hasty departure left her with no choice. Her belongings had been packed with haste, and she had boarded one of the ships the Targaryen’s owned. Unlike the Velaryon’s the Targaryen’s never built a grand armada. A mistake Rhaenyra planned to remedy in the future. The building of a fleet of ships would have to wait.

Aerion’s laugh made her smile. Her eldest boy seemed to love flying as much as she did. Her youngest however seemed to doze of, slowly but surely. Baelon was comfortable on dragon back, comfortable enough to even doze off to sleep. While her eldest was looking around with wide eyes. Aerion reminded her of her mother very much. Her mother’s eyes sometimes haunted her, and she had to remind herself, that these eyes now belonged to her son.

Same with her younger son. Baelon possessed her grandfather’s eyes. Baelon the Brave eyes were just as haunting as her mother’s, especially for the twin's grandsire. Baelon Targaryen and Aemma Arryn would forever be two of the most important people in her father’s and her own life. How daemon felt about her boys, she couldn't be sure. Her Uncle wasn’t hostile towards them, instead he played the dotting grand-uncle. Rhaenyra could picture her life on Dragonstone with Daemon at her side. A clam and safe environment for her children to grow up. A guardian, mentor, and protector in Daemon.

For her Aerion and Baelon represented her strength and her comfort, what Daemon would come to represent, only time would tell. Still having Caraxes nearby and the knowledge of Daemon being only meters behind her, shielding her back, calmed her nerves. Dragonstone may be the safest place in the realm for her and her children, however she couldn’t be sure if Otto had any spies stationed here. As soon as he got wind of her plans to stay on Dragonstone for a while, he would without a doubt try to infiltrate the castle.

Daemon ruthless and cunning personality would be of use then. Her uncle was much better at judging people and their intentions. He knew people better than she did. Of course, she did not want to use him merely as a shield, she loved her uncle, but he was her best chance. And the only one she could possibly trust with Dragonstone security. Because Daemon Targaryen hated no man more than Otto Hightower. The princess could not say when this malice between the two men began. Not that she cared enough to ask. She disliked her father’s hand a great deal as well.

“We will be there shortly sweet boy.”, she murmured in her eldest son’s ear. Ahead of them the outlines of her ancestral home came into view. Caraxes shrill roar rang in her ears and she looked over her shoulder. The great red serpent-like dragon flew over her head and speed up. Rhaenyra knew Daemon would normally make reckless manoeuvres, but at least he seemed to be aware of the chid that rode with him. It would take a while for him to accept the little girl in their lives. It seemed the flight didn’t bother her, or at least Rhaenyra hoped it had not. Dayana would never be a dragonrider. Her father and great-grandfather made a mistake by letting the Velaryon children of Rhaenys and Lord Corlys keep their dragons. Neither Laenor nor Laena should have been given any eggs or the chance to claim a dragon.

Rhaenyra knew where her faults lay, of course she wasn’t perfect, she was only a human after all. Her first decree after her ascension to Queenship would be the restrictions of dragons and dragon eggs. Only the immediate heirs to the throne would be grated the privilege of claiming a dragon. Which meant only those with the name Targaryen and in the direct line of succession. So Rhaenyra’s children and her firstborns children. Unfortunately, the right to decline her half-sibling's right for dragons was out of her hand. But she could manage to plead with her father, that none of her future half-siblings children would be granted cradle eggs or the opportunity to claim a grown dragon.

Only House Targaryen should control dragons. House Velaryon having three to House Targaryen’s two dragons weren’t good odds. Syrax was a fast and agile dragon, but still young and inexperience. Seasmoke was war tested, Meleys experienced and much older, and Vhagar was one of the conquerors dragons. Should war break out between the two of the last three Valyrian Houses left, the royal family would lose. Daemons beloved Caraxes was a war hardened dragon, but even the fearsome Bloody Wyrm couldn’t take on three dragons at the same time.

Rhaenyra did not wish for Laenor’s death, her cousin-husband was a good man. A rare thing in this realm indeed. But his soft personality was a weakness her enemies used against her. She loved her cousin, because he was a part of her family, but he disappointed her like so many other members of her family before him. He let himself go in public, but none cared about his infidelity, Rhaenyra certainly did not care. No, they cared that he fucked men ,and according to the Greens, that proved her cousin could not possibly be her boy's father. If only they knew through wait pain and suffering they went to conceive her two eldest children.

She was aware, that she was expected to bear more children, to further provide her line with more heirs. But for her, Aerion and Baelon were enough. Her boys were her strength and her consolation. Maybe far in the future she could imagine herself having more children, but for now she was more than content with her twins. They were a handful already. And she was now responsible for her new ward as well. Three children were hard work. Since she barely trusted wet nurses and preferred to feed her boys on her own, she would have to manage her duties as Crown Princess and as mother.

”Faster Syrax.”, she urged the she-dragon. Who let loose a mighty roar and with a few string beats of her yellow, golden wings she easily caught up to Caraxes. The male dragon rumbled at her dragonness, but Syrax just passed him and flew provokingly close. Rhaenyra could hear her uncle’s laughter. He found it fun how their dragons interacted with each other. Did he know something she did not?

Dragonstone was only about an hour away. Rhaenyra yearned for a warm bath, because her aching muscles began to hurt. Not being blue to fly on her Golden lady’s back for months did nothing for her muscle power. It would take weeks for her body to get used to the frequent dragon riding she planned to do. Never again, would she let anyone forbid her from riding Syrax.

Her bond sang when Syrax send her reassurance and love over their bond. She had always been able to feel Syrax emotions. It was as if they were in sink with each other. They displayed each other’s emotions perfectly well. The connection with Syrax and her boys were the only thing keeping her sane back in Kingslanding. Never again, she swore herself silently, never again would she let herself be belittled or undermined. She was the iron Thrones rightful heir, its heiress and the Seven Kingdoms future Queen. She would have to prove herself before the masses, small folk and nobility alike. And she would act. Better late than never.

One hour later

After the last hour on dragonback passed, Rhaenyra let out a relieved sigh when her feet touched the ground once more. To her surprise Syrax had landed rather soft and carefully. As if she was aware of the precious and vulnerable babes. Of course both boys had been introduced to her she-dragon and she had welcomed them, unlike with her half-brother, who had the misfortune of venturing inside the Dragonpit and stopping at Syrax’s cave. Her Golden lady had always been one of the most temperamental dragons, second only to Caraxes, and she definitely did not like Alicent’s son.

Thanks to the Dragonkeepers an incident had been avoided. But Aegon reckless behaviour provided Alicent with an excuse to forbid her sons or any of her children entry into the Dragonpit. Her father had tried to change his second wife’s mind, but the Hightower woman had not bugged and so for now none of her half-siblings would visit the Dragonpit any time soon. Which was good for Rhaenyra. As much as she wanted to build a relationship with them, she saw them more and more as the possible danger they presented. It hurt to think of a future where they would be adults despising her and her family simply because their mother and grandfather wanted their blood on the throne.

She could deny it with all her might, but Daemon Targaryen was the man she needed. He had the mind, the skill and the reputation to protect her family. And maybe she could find love for him in her heart again, once the wound his abrupt departure left behind healed enough. Nonetheless, desperately wanting to trust him again was something she could not afford. In the brothel he had shown her his weakness, feelings made him scared. His feelings regarding her in particular, she had gathered that, but could she ever fully trust in him again. Daemon was often a rash, brutal and to hasty person, his anger controlled him often. Which wasn’t always bad, but when he was angry, Daemon’s plans became sloppy.

Syrax snout buried itself in her side and she had to shift her weight on her left foot, to not lose her balance. The she-dragon cooed softly and sniffed at her eldest son’s hair. Baelon on the other head was still half asleep on her back. Once she was settled in her apartments she would put them and Dayana to bed. The flight must have exhausted them. Since the conquerors were married to each other, their chambers were also connected through passages and doors with one another. Rhaenys’s chamber was in the middle of Aegon’s and Visenya’s.

Rhaenyra normally would have taken Visenya’s chamber, her favourite ancestor. But with three children in her care, she would take over the grandest apartments in the castle. Aegon’s. Where she had enough space for cribs and room for her personal things. She would ask Dragonstone Maester to send a raven to Kingslanding, to ask her ladies to pack her belongings and take a ship to the island. Rhaenys’s rooms would be used as a nursery eventually. But the crown Princess was not yet ready to leave her boys out of her sight.

Visenya’s room she would grant Daemon. She was after all also her uncle’s favourite ancestor. And it did not harm anyone, when Daemon slept near her, her uncle would never physically hurt or harm her. And even he would not be babaric enough to try to kill her children. Rhaenyra was somehow aware her uncle planned something. Most likely involving her husband’s death. She could prevent it if she wanted, though she wasn’t sure what exactly he planned. Thus, it was hard to warn Laenor of any danger. After all he was fighting the Triarchy again, who were notorious for their brutality and hatred towards daemon and House Velaryon. At least, as far as she was informed, Dorne had yet to pledge their support to the Triarchy.

Their scorpions would be a major advantage for the Triarchy. Scorpions were deadly weapons. If a dragon was hit in the right spot, death was sure to come for broth the dragon and its rider. Which was why she prayed to the Fourteen Flames, that the dornish would not support her husband’s enemies. Otherwise, it was only a matter of time until she would hear from his death.

The arrival of Dragonstone’s Maester and a couple of servants cleared her mind. With Syrax at her back and Daemon now at her side. Caraxes had landed unusually close to her lady, but she had other things to think about at the moment. Her uncle, his posture as relaxed as ever, had already given the baby girl over to a nearby servant. Rhaenyra’s sons were still strapped to her chest. She signalled Daemon to help her and in seconds he began to help her unwrap the leather straps with whom her sons had been secured. Baelon slept peacefully in her arms, after they were freed from the harness. Aerion looked around and moves quite a bit in her arms. Dayana was once again back in Daemon’s arm. Tough, her uncle seemed less than thrilled by that.

Dragonstone did not have a castellan yet, so Maester Gerardys dealt with everything regarding the castle. “My princess.”, the man greeted respectfully and bowed. As did the other servants that followed him. “We were not expecting you.” “My apologies for not sending word ahead, Maester. But please let the conquerors chambers be made ready.”, she smiled slightly at the man. “All three of them your Grace?”, he asked. Rhaenyra gave him only a nod as answer. “At once your grace.”

“And send a raven to Kingslanding. I wish for my ladies to join me here. For the foreseeable future I will stay here. I am Princess of Dragonstone after all. It is time i manage my own seat as its heir.”, she informed the Maester. “As you command your Grace, I will dispatch Dragonstones fastest raven.” “My thanks Maester.”, she smiled again. “Do you need help with your belongings, my princess?”, one of the servants dared to ask. In the face of the dragons behind them, a brave move indeed. “There is no need for that now. The Dragonkeepers of the Dragonmont will take off the bags and deliver them. I am troubling you already enough with my unannounced arrival and the task to make all three chambers ready. My uncle and I will manage to do everything else on our own.”, she declined.

“Though a warm bath for both of us would be most welcome.”, she added. The servants bowed their heads again and hastily left to fulfil their tasks. For normal humans as the servants dragons were terrifying beings. And it was best to not expose the dragons to too many strangers. “Off you go Syrax. To the Dragonmont. I think Caraxes is able to show you the way.”, she told her dragon in Valyrian. Rhaenyra was sure Syrax would even understand her if she spoke common, but she was a Targaryen and Valyrian was the dragon's language. Her mother language.

Syrax blew hot air in her face one last time and then leapt into the air once more. Closely followed by Caraxes. Soon the two dragons vanished. Flying into the direction of the Dragonmont. Since Rhaenyra was aware of her eldest restlessness, she transferred him to Daemon’s arms and took Dayana in hers. Both her ward and Baelon were sleepy and still in her embrace. Aerion on the other hand was freely moving on Daemon's chest, chewing her uncle's hair in his mouth. She stopped herself from giggling, but it looked like her son was having fun on the expense of Daemon’s beautiful silver hair.

Rhaenyra looked at the imposing figure Dragonstone’s castle cast over her. The massive building was build through long forgotten arts and crafts from the freehold. “Come niece, I think all of us have been exposed to the weather enough hours already.” She stiffened for a moment when she felt his hand on her upper back and her gaze turned towards him. Her eldest was safely nestled into his shoulder, Daemon was holding him with his right hand and arm securely in his grasp. Relaxing a bit she nodded, and together they made their way to the castle, a few servants, that stayed behind, followed them, waiting if they needed their help. Finally, she was home.

Chapter Text

Two months after the arrival on Dragonstone

Daemon did not realize how much he had missed Dragonstone. His ancestral home, where many of his happiest memories were made. The one place he did not feel the need to prove himself to be worthy of. In Kingslanding he had to prove himself useful to his brother, otherwise he would be cast out again. Though not that his usefulness stopped his brother from believing the Hightower snake and sending him away for the littlest mistake. In Runestone, for him there was never any doubt, that he did not belong there. Runestone was like a prison to him. He had laughed when his former wife banished him, setting him free of Viserys sentence to stay at that castle. Instead, he fled to Essos. Even there he had to pretend and prove something.

The wine and whores there helped him forget his pain for a time, but the pain still remained buried inside him. Deep down his pain never dulled. The pain of being cast away by his own family. His grandsire did not want him, his grandmother did not want him, both send him away to marry a woman who hated him. A woman he hated. Queen Alysanne’s had arranged the marriage, to hurt him. In her words she wanted him to settle down finally, to tame his inner dragon, which was raging with brutal temper.

King Jaehaerys enforced his wife’s decree and forced Daemon to marry Rhea Royce. A woman who hated him, simply because he was a Targaryen. Even though her own distant cousin, Aemma his cousin as well, was half Targaryen. He imagined Rhea did not like Aemma much. She had not, unlike Aemma’s other relatives, wrote to Rhaenyra after her mother’s death. As far as he knew, Rhaenyra was in contact with two of her aunts and her cousin, the Lady Paramount of the Vale, Jeyne Arryn.

Rhea on the other hand stayed silent and did not seem saddened by her cousin’s demise. Not that he had showed much sorrow at Aemma’s death, which he realized was a mistake. His cousin always had been friendly towards him, allowed him to spend as much time with Rhaenyra as he wanted. She stood up to Viserys, even in her weakened state of being pregnant with yet another one of Viserys babes. True Daemon felt pity for Rhaenyra’s mother, for being forced to carry babe after babe, even though she had lost many. How Viserys could be that cruel, he could not understand.

Daemon had known these past two years, just how much he had missed Rhaenyra’s presence. Now he spent as much time in her company as he could. Of course that could not make up for the time he had waisted and deliberately sacrificed to run away from his problems. All his escapes to the Free Cities, even his marriage to Laena Velaryon, were meant to be used to avoid confrontation with Rhaenyra. Only his fiery niece, his clever and vicious little dragon was able to look behind the careful crafted mask, the facade he wore since decades. Only with her, he noticed cracks in his resolve.

His princess always had been capable of bringing the true him out of its shell, even for short moments. Private moments between them. Maybe he had fled more often than not for what he knew would one day establish between them. Maybe he feared to corrupt her, not that he had to be worried about that. Rather, he should have been worried about the pain he could cause her. Now it was too late, he hurt her significantly and it was his biggest regret. One he would forever try to make up for. Dameon knew Rhaenyra would take years to truly trust him completely. It was her right to take as long as she wanted.

Two months passed since their arrival on Dragonstone. Rhaenyra had taken to reside in King Aegon the Conquerors chambers, his chambers were formally those of Queen Visenya, the first wielder of his beloved sword, and the children, Aerion, Baelon and Dayana as well, had their nursery in Queen Rhaenys chambers. Whose chambers connected the other two chambers with each other, though side doors in the walls.

Slowly he had grown used to Laena’s bastard girl's presence, because whenever he was with Rhaenyra she was either doing her duties as the Princess of Dragonstone and hearing petitions, or answering to ravens, or she was in the nursery. Though she spent much time with the children in her own bedchambers. Not that he would voice any criticism towards her, he was just aware of how attached she was to all three babes.

In the past two months they had not heard from the Velaryon. Not from Rhaenys or Laena and neither form Laenor or Corlys. Which saddened his niece, because she had hoped that Laenor at least would sometimes write, to inquire about his son’s. It seemed his cousin's son was to busy fighting in a war against his father’s enemies. Or rather a war, that Corlys greed for more wealth and fame created.

The man never knew when it was enough. None of the Velaryon bloodline knew. As far as he knew, all Velaryon were greedy for more. For things they could not have. Corlys practically sold his son to Viserys and endangered him willingly, simply because he wanted to have Velaryon blood on the throne. Which he would have, but not the Velaryon name. Daemon was aware, that Corlys had tried to have his grandchildren keep his son’s family name even after the ascension to the throne. But Viserys blocked that request. At least his brother remained unmovable in that regard. So Aerion’s surname would forever be Targaryen and Baelon would take on the name Velaryon forever, any other children would also take the Velaryon name, but not the firstborn of the heir.

Of course he had not been inactive the last two months, he had worked with his friend in the Gold Cloak ranks to stabilize his spy network in Kingslanding. Steadily, he ripped the power away from Myseria. Who now called herself the White Worm. The woman who was possible the most scornful of all his lover, the woman that sold his secrets to his archnemesis, Otto Hightower. Sooner or later he would deal with her once and for all, now however he could not afford to leave Dragonstone. He left Rhaenyra too often, one journey away from Dragonstone without informing her would break the trust he gained back.

Daemon was sure Viserys had written multiple times, if his niece’s pained expression was anything to go by. Right now she was sitting at her desk hunched over a pile of what looked like letters. Daemon leaned against the doorframe and watched her. The children’s cribs were mere meter away from her. Though her twins were playing on the ground with wooden figures. Toys he had bought for Rhaenyra back when she was a tiny child. To see Aerion and Baelon play with them filled his heart with pride and relief. So Rhaenyra had not got rid of his gifts. Rhaenyra’s household had arrived at Dragonstone a few weeks ago. Her ladies -in-waiting and her maid servants as well as her household guards. Her household was bigger than last time, but still too small to be suitable for the Crown princess. Something he would soon remedy.

“Little dragon.”, he called out softly, so he wouldn’t startle her. About a week ago, he had started to call her by her childhood nickname again. His father, grandsire, brother, sister-in-law and he himself had called Rhaenyra their little dragon affectionately. Same as he called the twin boys hatchlings. Fitting for her two boys. Who resembled their Targaryen side of the family much more than their Velaryon one.

“Kepus.”, she answered, signalling him she heard his approach, though she seemed focused on something else. Rhaenyra was staring at the letter in her hand. “Is everything alright, niece ?”, he asked concerned, walking toward her, only stopping inches away from her back. He looked over her shoulder and recognized his brother’s handwriting. Truthfully, he was a little surprised that his brother still wrote his letters himself.

“No, father plans to visit soon, to celebrate the twin's nameday.”, she informed him, running her fingers through her silver golden wavy hair. In truth Damon had anticipated such a thing, he knew Rhaenyra had too. Both of them knew Viserys to well. But that also screamed Otto Hightower. The snake would defiantly follow wherever his brother went. Same with his second wife, and thus also his three children. Aegon, Helaena and Aemond, if he remembered correctly. The youngest of the three a bit younger than his niece’s son’s. He imagined Otto’s daughter was already carrying another one of Viserys whelps.

“We still have four moons until their nameday. Time enough to prepare.”, he answered. “It’s not like we will go to war. My father will only be visiting for a short time.”, Rhaenyra tried to sound convincing, but Daemon knew even she did not believe herself. His niece was worried, if not scared of the prospect of her father and thus Alicent Hightower intruding into her safe heaven. Without a doubt, Otto would try to infiltrate the castle. Would try to plant spies here. Not that Daemon would let him. Rhaenyra had entrusted him with the castle's security. So far he had disposed of Alfred Brome. A man who had loudly declared, he would not bend the knee before a whore who gave birth to bastards and displaced them as true-born.

The foolish man spoke such slander in Daemon’s earshot and suffered greatly for it. After all he would not make it easy for anyone to slander his niece’s reputation or name. “Where your father goes, his hand and wife will follow. They can’t afford to lose his ear. They cannot risk letting him out of their site, otherwise he would turn to you. We both know how easy my brother is to manipulate, little dragon.”

Her sigh was answer enough. She knew his words were the truth. “I do not want them here. They could try to have them killed. Send assassins, discussed as servants, they could try to poison them with the help of their trusted Maester. Or they continue to spread rumours about my twins. Their eggs have still not hatched. Something they can and will use against my sweet boys.”, she stressed. 

It caused his niece an unholy amount of stress, that her twins eggs had yet to hatch. No matter how much he reassured her, that dragons always took their time. They had their own rules, dragons decided when they wanted to hatch, not the Targaryen’s. His family had the ability to bond with dragons, but they could not make a dragon egg hatch. Once upon a time, he imagined his family could even do that, when they still possessed the knowledge of Old Valyria, the knowledge how to use Blood magic.

With blood magic they could easily make the eggs hatch. Maybe even the ones that turned to stone. Without that knowledge they had no choice, but wait and give the dragons time. He was sure his great nephews would be chosen by one of the dragons in the eggs. After all even not yet hatched they had their own minds already.

“How can I protect my claim, when I cannot even protect my sons from the rumours Alicent and her allies are spreading about them?”, Rhaenyra asked, frustration evident in her voice. “They will have to learn to live with them Rhaenyra. Same as you did. Same as I did. The realm entertains itself with our suffering. The only thing you can do is teach them to not be hurt by the rumours. Teach them to ignore the opinions of those who seek to destroy them. Teach them who their enemy and who their friend is. Sooner or later they will come in contact with rumours. There is no way for you to fully protect them. But preparing them, gives them options how to handle this kind of gossip.”, he advised.

His words caused the Crown Princess to raise her head and stare into his eyes. Silence followed for about a minute. “You could be right. I have no other choice. I cannot keep the rumours from them when they are old enough to understand their meaning.”, she agreed, sounding resigned. Daemon understood her resignation and her frustration. Not being able to shield children from cruel gossip, no matter if true or false, was nearly impossible. Especially if a king like Viserys reigned over the realm, who wanted to please everyone, but especially his Hightower part of the family. "We will manage, together Rhaenyra.", he promised her.

Rhaenyra’s beautiful eyes filled with tears. Instantly he went on one knee and took her face into his hands. Caressing her check and trying to calm her down. A few hiccups escaped her before she buried her face in his shoulder. Carefully stroking her hair he whispered reassurance into her ear, in soft Valyrian. Their mother tongue had always calmed her down, when she was stressed. Something Aemma had learned and informed Daemon about. Thus, whenever he became aware of his niece experiencing too much stress he either sang their Valyrian lullaby or spoke soothing words in High Valyrian.

Rhaenyra’s boys noticed their mother’s sadness, immediately left their toys and crawled towards them. “Rhaenyra.”, he whispered softly. She looked up, and he directed her gaze towards Aerion and Baelon. “They are already crawling. It seems like their birth was only yesterday. So much time has already passed.”, she said mournfully. “Babes grow older with each day, that is why you have to cherish every single moment with them.”, he retorted, not that his niece heard him. Instead, her sole focus was on her boys, who grabbed their mother’s dress, tucking on her skirts unhappy because their mother was sad.

The Princess lowered herself to the ground and engulfed the twins in a hug, the boys buried their little faces in her breast. Their little hand grabbing the fabric of the dress. A dress he had seen Aemma wear years ago. It was only logical, that Rhaenyra would inherit her mother’s wardrobe after the Queen’s death. Surely the Hightower Queen tried to have jewels and gown of the Queen before her, transferred to her, but Viserys was sentimental and guilty about Aemma, thus he would never deny Rhaenyra her wish, should she have asked for her mothers jewellery and wardrobe. Which she obviously had done.

The blue gown, House Arryns colour, was beautiful. Detailed with silver embroidery of three dragons. Since arriving at Dragonstone his nieces gowns variated. She no longer only wore black dresses with red and golden embroidery. She wore gowns in many colours, every colour except green. Green coloured gowns had become her least favourite over the years. Because green was the colour Oldtown beacon burned, when they called their banners to war. And Viserys second wife and his three children were wearing green in court and that for years.

Alicent Hightower had harassed and humiliated his niece enough over the years. She should not have been able to do so in the Red Keep. Rhaenyra’s childhood home, the castle she would one day rule all of Westeros from. Instead of punishing or at the very least scolding his Hightower wife, Viserys remind a blind idiot. Who looked away and did not seem to care, that his wife made his eldest child’s life miserable. Something Daemon would make the Hightowers pay for. He wasn’t known to be a patient man, but regarding revenge he could keep himself restrained for long enough. Alicent and her father would learn soon enough, that no one would mess with Rhaenyra when she had him by her side. Not any longer. The helpless girl, that was named heir, had disappeared. With Aerion and Baelon’s birth, Rhaenyra’s goal wasn’t just defending her claim any more, instead her priority was her son’s survival. And the greens were a threat to their safety.

Targaryen mothers did not take kindly to their children being threatened in any way. Rhaenyra was, sadly unlike her mother, a Targaryen through and through. She would fight and kill for her boys if necessary. She was like Syrax, spoiled rotten, but temperamental. Speaking of the dragon his nieces golden lady had not emerged from the caves she had taken into possession as her new home. The last time he had seen her was when she and Caraxes were playing with each other. Or hurting each other, he wasn’t sure. And even then he only saw her from afar.

“Thank you Daemon.”, she murmured and gifted him a smile over her son’s head. Hearing her say his name made him smirk. It has been a long time, since someone used her full name. He inclined his head and retuned her smile with an honest smirk, one could almost call it a half smile. When she flinched and grabbed her stomach all of a sudden he was alarmed. The boys had gone back to their toys after their mother reassured them everything was fine. Now it seemed something was wrong. “Rhaenyra what is it? Are you hurt?”

“No it…it’s Syrax. Something is wrong. She is restless and in pain. I feel weird since morning. Something is going on with her Daemon. But I don’t know what.”, confused his niece stood up, a hand on her stomach. He suspected that Syrax was nesting inside the caves of the Dragonmont, now he was sure of it. The riders of female dragons, if they were so deeply connected like Rhaenyra was with Syrax, they could feel what their bonded dragon felt. Their pain their sorrow and everything else. Same with the riders. Now Rhaenyra felt Syrax.

“It seems your Golden Lady needs you.”, he answered her unasked question. “I cannot leave my sons alone.”, she retorted. “I will be with them. Go to your dragon princess, nothing will happen to your boys as long as I am here.”, he swore. “Do you promise?”, she asked. “Yes, on my name and my blood.”, the promise came easy and rang true. For years promises were nothing to him, having learned none would keep true to their word. But a promise to his niece was different. Besides his niece ‘s sons were his great nephews and he liked them. They were a part of Rhaenyra’s heart. A heart he would protect with everything.

“Kirimvose Kepus.”, she smiled and said goodbye to her boys before she left the chambers to make her way to the Dragonmont. Daemon looked after her until the door closed behind her. Then he turned around to look at the twins. Who were happily playing with their wooden figures again. Figures of dragons he had made in Essos. Or rather he had let them be made. In the shape of Caraxes, Balerion, Vhagar and Meleys. The dragons of Rhaenyra’s father, grandfather and grandmother, as well as his own.

He had already commissioned a wooden model of Syrax from the same man, who made the figures years ago. Neither Aerion nor Baelon had spoken their first word yet, that would come after they had their first nameday. He sat down where Rhaenyra sat before, watching the boys while they were playing. He leaned Dark Sister against the desk on his left side. furthermore, he doubted anyone with ill intentions would come here. Not with the dragons roaming free. Someone who did not know Dragonstone like the long-time servants or inhabitants of the island would end up dead. And even Otto Hightower was not brave enough to send assassins to kill two small boys.

He himself certainly would be bold enough, but Rhaenyra would never forgive him if her half-siblings were harmed by men under his command. So he stayed his hand and let the half-breed whelps of his brother keep their lives. Daemon knew he was one of the cruelest man, knew all of Westeros saw the brutality and the temper of a Targaryen that terrorized the realm many years ago. A second Maegor, that was what Otto called him in small council meetings he was not present, and his brother did nothing to defend his name, instead he stayed silent.

No one defended him, not Viserys not Rhaenys no one. Rhaenyra had been too young to truly grasp the meaning of Otto’s words. And now they had been apart for two years, living their own lives, having their on responsibility. While he drank and amused himself in the Free cities, Rhaenyra fought for her life and her sons in Viserys court. Of course, she had allies, but she was also looked down upon. The King had two sons, another child most likely soon to be on the way, still he did not change his succession. Remained steady in upholding his eldest child, a daughter, as heir to the throne. Many were unhappy with that. Especially those deeply rooted in the Faith of the Seven. Whose teachings made people despise Targaryen’s. Because they believed in other gods and worshipped the Valyrian gods of the Valyrian Freehold.

His patron god was Vhagar, like his father before him. His brother, despite his love for Valyrian history had not taken to choosing a patron god. Alyssa his mother had, Meleys, the goddesses her mount was named after. Rhaenys had also not picked any of the Fourteen flames as her patron. Unlike her father, his uncle Aemon, who was Caraxes rider before him, who had decided on the namesake of his dragon as his patron.

He would have thought Rhaenyra would select her own dragons namesake as patron, but she had chosen Meraxes. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Syrax melodic roar. And the answering roar his own Caraxes let loose. The she-dragons roars were loud enough to wake the whole island. She seemed to be agitated and in pain. Which could mean two things. Either Rhaenyra was in grave danger, injured or Syrax was experiencing labours for the first time.

Syrax was young and had yet to produce a clutch of eggs. Unlike her own dam Silverwing, who laid many clutches of eggs like Dreamfyre, but those eggs, most of them, went cold. He could only hope Syrax eggs would not suffer the same fate. It would break his niece’s heart should that happen. Hearing Syrax roars worried him, but here on Dragonstone, nothing would be able to harm Rhaenyra. And he gave her his word to watch over Aerion and Baelon.

The boys were frightened, never before had their mother’s bonded dragon roared so loud and in such anguish. Both boys whimpered and rushed to him. Rather they crawled to him as fast as they could. Without a thought he picked them up and sat them down on his knees. “Everything will be fine. Your mother will be back soon.”, he soothed. Unsure if they could understand him or would believe him anyway. He only was part of their life since a short time. They barely knew him. He barely knew them, but they already were important to him.

“Syrax needs your mother know, but don’t worry she will be back soon. Meanwhile I am here.”, he whispered. Daemon normally wasn’t good with children, every other child besides Rhaenyra was scared of him. These two, children of Rhaenyra’s blood, proved to possess his niece's courage. These boys sat fearlessly on his knees playing with his tunic and chewing on his hair. Without a fear or a care in the world. And he would make sure that these two princes would not suffer a day in their life. He would protect them with all his might. Giving his life for Aerion and Baelon would be the same as protecting Rhaenyra.

One day Aerion and Baelon would learn more about him, would hear about the rumours of him, would come to fear him as many others did. At least that would only be far in the future. He let the twins play around with his tunic and hair. It would distract them long enough for Rhaenyra to return, at least that was what he hoped. After all he was unsure how else he would entertain babe. Or how to deal with Dayana waking up from her nap. Maybe a lullaby or one of the Valyrian stories their mother adored as a child would help.

Same time Dragonmont

Rhaenyra never felt anything like she did at the moment. Since morning, she felt a strange feeling resonating in her stomach. It felt like she was giving birth all over again. But the pain she felt, did not come from her own body, no it originated from her Golden Lady. Syrax was calling her through their bond, their shared feelings. Ever since their first flight the connection between them became stronger with each day. Before she could feel Syrax, like the flickering flame of a candle in her soul. Now she felt her presence in her mind and in her soul. They were two different bodies, at the same time they were also one.

It happened before. One time, while she was flying maybe three years ago, that Syrax vision became her own. She saw through the she-dragons eyes, a feeling she couldn’t properly describe. Something she didn’t really understand. Her family was able to ride dragons, but they themselves were still humans. They weren’t capable of connecting deep enough with the dragons to make it possible to share their sight with each other. The magic necessary for that was lost in the Doom.

Nevertheless, it happened to her, though never again after that one time. When Daemon confirmed her suspicion she made her way to the Dragonmont. Dragonkeepers were already awaiting here on the entry of the cave system. “Princess, Syrax has not emerged for days. She is hiding herself in a cave, but we are not able to come near her. Caraxes is blocking our path. Any Keeper who tried was nearly killed by him.”, the head of the Dragonstone Dragonkeepers informed her as soon as she stopped in front of them.

Caraxes was famous for his violent temper, so much like his riders temper, he was the dragon every keeper, be it in Kingslanding or Dragonstone was wary of. It happened often enough that he snapped the chains, and tore the keepers limbs from their bodies if they angered him. Now mated to Syrax it wasn’t unusual for him to have an even worse temperament than before. Dragons mated for life, occasionally female dragons mated with multiple male ones over the time, but when a pair found each other, they would reject every other dragon, but their own mate. The few months after mating, some Valyrian books even said years after, mates were protective of each other.

Especially the male dragons. A war dragon like Caraxes was capable of killing thousands. And he would kill all those he considered a threat to his mate. Though most of the heat of his protectiveness should have been extinguished by now. Months had gone by. Rhaenyra was sure Syrax sought Caraxes out as soon as she landed on Driftmark. Which meant their first mating was months ago. The only other time a male dragon, who was freshly mated, became overprotective and highly aggressive, was while the she-dragon was nesting.

The only other mated pair Rhaenyra knew of were Vermithor and Silverwing. The dragons born to her great-grandparents Alysanne and Jaehaerys Targaryen. Who had been born of Meraxes clutch. She had not seen these two dragons since a long time. From what Daemon told her, Syrax was one of Dreamfyre’s oldest clutches and her eggs was laid around the same time when Vermithor and Silverwing hatched. Though Rhaenyra had thought Silverwing to look quite similar to Syrax, if that was true, she could not be from one of Silverwings offspring.

“Where is Syrax?”, she asked. “In one of the deeper caves. She has taken possession of the cave Meraxes once used. Caraxes made his home in the cave next to your dragon princess. However, we have observed them sharing each other's caves these past few weeks.”, another Dragonkeeper informed her. Not unusual for mates to share their caves. As far as she knew, Vermithor and Silverwing share their cave which was far away from Syrax and Caraxes. Male dragons tended to fight each other, which was why Vermithor had many scares of his battles with the Cannibal, though it was not confirmed if the Cannibal was indeed a male dragon.

“Keep yourself away for now. I will look after my dragon.” “Princess, that is too dangerous. Caraxes could harm you.”, the keeper protested. Rhaenyra knew how risky it was, but Syrax needed her, and she grew up around Caraxes. Her uncle’s beloved mount would not hurt her, she was sure of it. “I can handle my uncle’s dragon. Nothing will happen as long as the other Dragonkeepers and you stay far away from Syrax’s cave.”, she answered. “As you wish princess. Be careful.” He wished her good luck and stepped back. The other Dragonkeepers followed his example. Slowly she entered the cave system. She knew where Meraxes cave was located. It was indeed one of the deeper ones in the Dragonmont. Meraxes had been a big dragon, once upon a time bigger than Vhagar, she would still be bigger than Vhagar had she not lost her life in Dorne.

Rhaenyra hummed lightly, a lullaby her mother used to sing her, before she became too ill and busy to spend much time with her. She never blamed her mother for her lack of attention or time, her father was the one responsible for her mother’s state. Nonetheless, it hurt to be overlooked by both of her parents.

She could already hear Caraxes thrilling and shrieking. And her Golden Lady’s melodic roars, though every roar sounded melodic compared to Caraxes high-pitched one. But at leats it made it easy to recoginze him from afar. She had learned to distinguish a dragon by their roar over time, Caraxes had always been the easiest.

Soon after his long red scaled neck came into view. “Caraxes.”, she called out. Instantly, the serpent like dragon turned his head towards her, bending his neck and shielding the entrance to Meraxes cave with the rest of his body. “It’s alright boy. I’m here to help. Syrax needs me.”, she explained to him. High Valyrian was the dragon's language, but she always asked herself how they could only understand that particular language. However now she had other much more important things to focus on. First she had to pass Caraxes and get to Syrax.

Speaking of her dragon, golden scales came into her view. Caraxes stepped aside and let Syrax through. Her dragon nearly shoving Daemon’s mount aside in the hurry of getting to her. The red dragon huffed annoyed, smoke coming from his nostrils, but he remained unmoved and near his mate. Syrax buried her snout in Rhaenyra’s stomach, and the moment the princess didn’t care for her dress. Later she would defiantly scold herself for not wearing something else. But Syrax feelings were clear, she needed Rhaenyra urgently.

“I’m here girl. I’m here. What do you need?”, she whispered, stroking the scales under Syrax’s chin. How she ended up on the ground of Meraxes old cave, with Syrax’s head on her lap she did not know. Syrax had somehow manoeuvred her inside the cave and curled herself around Rhaenyra. Her massive body and long tail shielding herself from the outside. While Caraxes was curled around them as well protecting his mate from anything that could possibly pose a threat.

Minutes passed without her noticing, her focus solely upon Syrax. The princess breathed deeply, sucked air into her lungs and breathed it out again. Hundred of time, like she did when she gave birth to the twins. Like the midwife had advised her. If the giant nest made out of bones and other materials was anything to go by, then Rhaenyra was sure Syrax was about to deliver her first clutch of eggs. Roaring loudly, but despite the ringing in her ears, she did not cover them, instead she continued to stroke her distressed dragon's scales, trying to calm her down and reassure her, that everything was alright. But Syrax was in pain and not having it, her spoilt girl only calmed down when Caraxes whistle like roar sounded and when her mate curled himself around her even tighter than before. His long neck reaching over Syrax smaller one. His head touched her left wing.

“We are here for you. Let it out Syrax. Everything will be fine. A little longer and you will have your first eggs.”, encouraging words blubbered out of her mouth. Much time passed until finally the first egg emerged. After the first one four more followed. A large clutch. From what she had learned, five eggs in one clutch was rare these days. Two maybe three were the most either Dreamfyre or Silverwing produced, sometimes even only one egg. But her spoilt Queen had five eggs.

“You did great, Syrax. Look five eggs. You are amazing!”, Rhaenyra giggled. Truthfully she wanted to get back to her own children, but Syrax still needed her. She was exhausted from the stress and pain of delivering five eggs at once. And that in her first clutch ever. More time passed where she simply sat, with Syrax’s head on her lap, stroking her lady’s golden scaled snout. And marvelling at the sight of the five beautiful dragon eggs.

One was blood-red, similar to Caraxes red scales, but there also was a bit of black on the egg's bottom. Without a doubt Caraxes was this clutches sire. And he would also be the sire of any other clutch that would follow this one. Another egg was a mix of soft pink and a darker red tone. Another one was green. The fourth egg was silvery. And the last egg was dark blue, mixed with black. All five were gorgeous and the baby dragon resting within would look stunning once they were born.

Syrax had dozed off, her head now resting next to the eggs. Suddenly Caraxes lifted his head and flared his nostrils. Footsteps could be heard. Rhaenyra hoped the Dragonkeepers would not come into the caves. To her surprise the footsteps did not solely belong to any of the Dragonkeepers. Instead, they belonged to her uncle and one of Dragonstone knights. When they stepped into the entrance of Meraxes cave, she saw Daemon and the knight each carrying one of her boys. Behind them were four Dragonkeepers, carrying warming chambers.

Carefully untangling herself she left the safety of the curled dragons, she had to climb over Syrax and Caraxes tail to get out. “Daemon, what are you doing here?”, she asked, confused. “The twins were beginning to fuss when you didn’t return for hours. They missed their mother. So I thought bringing them here would be a good idea. And taking their eggs here to change them could be done at the same time.”, he explained.

Daemon knew of her worry of her son’s eggs not hatching. Sadly, none of Dreamfyre’s eggs had hatched in years, besides Seasmoke’s egg. Before she could answer, Syrax stirred awake, looking towards her boys. She knew them now, finally being introduced to them after months. Caraxes on the other hand did not know them, but he made no move to attack. Because his rider was there. And Rhaenyra had never seen Caraxes disobeying a command from Daemon, ever. No matter if the command was a silent or a vocal one.

Daemon waved the Dragonkeepers away, who lowered the warming chambers and lingered at the entrance. He came to her, and she took Baelon in her arms. Then he retrieved Aerion from the guard's arms and dismissed the man. Who very eagerly left the cave. Syrax uncurled herself and shock her body, dirt, and dust falling of her body, then she nudged her clutch. Until first one egg came loose and then a second one. After that she nudged Caraxes, who, to her surprise, carefully took the eggs into his jaw and laid them down gently a few meters in front of them. Seconds later her boys started to fuss and squirm.

“I think they want us to go closer.”, her uncle commented. Slowly, Rhaenyra stepped closer toward the two eggs. Daemon followed her, right at her side. Their dragons watching them, as if they were waiting for something. Her uncle was the first to kneel down in front of the eggs. She did the same after hesitating for a short moment. At once, her twins extended their tiny hands towards the eggs.

“We seem to have found the perfect eggs for your boys.”, Daemon said, keeping a firm grip on Aerion. Her eldest reached for the green egg, while her youngest extended his hands towards the silvery egg. Rhaenyra sat her youngest down, inches away from the newly laid egg. Dameon did the same with Aerion and the green egg. Both boys immediately went to touch the eggs. Normal children would burn themselves. But Targaryens had no problem touching hot objects. They could endure much more heat, than other humans. However, they were not fireproof. In legends their ancestors were said to be fireproof, those who still lived in the time of the Valyrian Freehold.

Her boys cried out for a moment, when they pricked themselves at the shell of the eggs. A few drops of their blood landed on the eggs. Instantly rushing forward because of her sons injury, she did not register the cracking sounds coming from them eggs. Not until Daemon noticed the cracks. “They are already hatching.”, he whispered. “What?” It was true. Small cracks grew larger by the minute. The tiny baby dragons were fighting to get out of their shell. The green egg was the first to shatter. A green hatchling emerged from the egg. The green baby dragon flapped his for now weak wings and spread them. A soft pink mixed with lighter green made the colour of the dragon's lower side of the wing. Its head was shaped like Caraxes. The little green hatchling crawled towards her eldest boy, sniffing at him and chirping happily. Rapping itself around her giggling son moments later.

“Already inseparable.”, Daemon commented, his fascinated gaze not leaving the newly hatched dragon. Another loud cracking noise drew Rhaenyra’s attention. The egg in front of Baelon burst open and a silver white hatchling crawled out of the shell. Looking around and sniffing the air. The second hatchling focused on her youngest boy. Growling at her, when she dared to move too close to her son. Surprised, she leaned back again. The hatchling reached out and proceeded to wrap itself around her son, much like his clutch mate did with Baelon’s elder brother.

Finally, her sons had dragons. Her prayers were finally granted. Since the first week after their birth, she had prayed for their eggs to hatch. Now even though the originals eggs they were gifted did not hatch, the eggs born from her own dragon hatched from them. Maybe now the rumours would quiet down a little. At least now, she would have to be less scared for her sweet boys. With hatchling at their side, no assassin would be able to harm them so easily. Dragons were deadly to anyone who wasn’t a Dragonkeeper or their bonded rider. Even so little hatchlings could bite hard. And once they learned to breathe fire, they would set anyone who had ill intentions aflame.

What better protection could she hope for? Hatchlings remained with their bonded until they were too large to be housed in their chambers. Syrax was with her for a long time, until her father decreed to have her transported to the Dragonpit. Or rather until Daemon convinced her to let Syrax live at the Dragonpit. Rhaenyra threw the worst tantrum of her life when her father told her, that the Dragonkeepers would take Syrax away from her. That was what she had understood back then.

“Kirimvose, Syrax.”, she whispered through their bond, her gratitude seeping through. In response Syrax thrilled and curled herself around her three unhatched eggs. Caraxes kept watching them. Normally it was custom to remove the eggs from the female dragons care and for the Dragonkeepers to care for them. But that was a custom in the Dragonpit. They were no longer in Kingslanding. She would not take Syrax eggs away. Under no circumstances would she let that happen. Syrax and Caraxes were more than capable to look after their three remaining eggs on their own.

“Incredible I never heard of dragons hatching so fast after their eggs were just laid.”, Daemon marvelled. She felt the same wonder he expressed. Truly, she never heard of such a thing happening before. Her own egg had hatched weeks after her birth, but it existed before that and wasn’t freshly laid. It was a true miracle.

“We should make our way back to the castle. The little hatchlings are getting tired.” “Which hatchlings Daemon. The human ones or the actual hatchlings?” “Both.” They collected her sons, careful not to harm or disturbed the tiny hatchlings. Although they couldn’t be called tiny. But compared to Caraxes and Syrax they were small. “Princess, Prince, what should we do with the other two eggs?”, a Dragonkeeper at the entrance asked. The blue egg and the golden egg, that laid in her sons cribs before were still inside the two warming chambers.

“Bring them back with us to the castle.”, Daemon answered before she could. Rhaenyra looked at him, but he just returned her gaze. I will explain it later. Was what his eyes told her. When the Dragonkeepers looked towards her for conformation, she just nodded, and they proceeded to carry the warmingchambers back to the castle. Once they reached Rhaenys chambers, her son’s nursery, they laid the twins down for their nap. Their dragons still curled up with them. Two guards were stationed in front of the door, to ensure the three children’s safety.

Then she followed Daemon into Visenya’s chamber, where he directed the Dragonkeepers to bring the two other eggs. “What are you planning to do with them?”, she asked. If her uncle hadn’t expressed his opinion, she would have ordered the eggs to be placed with the other, back in the hatchery of the Dragonmont.

“I want to try something.”, he answered. She lifted an eyebrow and sat down on a chair a few meters away from the fire place. “What are you planning to do?” He gave her no answer, instead he grabbed a dagger. “Kepus!”, she gasped and rushed to him. But he didn’t even flinch when the steel of the dagger ripped open his palm. The blood flowing and dripping down, onto one of the dragon eggs. “What in the Fourteen Flames are you doing?”, she panicked. “Everything is fine. I just want to test something.”, he tried to calm her nerves.

Instead of listening to her rant, he focused on the dragon egg below his hand. Not noticing how his niece searched the room for clothes to stop the bleeding with. Only when she pressed a small clothe against his hand and wrapped it around it, did he take notice. He did not stop her, instead he nudged her with his elbow. “What is it?”, she snapped, angry that he cut himself. “Look.”, Daemon replied. Rhaenyra’s eyes wandered towards the eggs. She looked down, and a gasp escaped her lips. The egg had small cracks. “Daemon, that is…”, she whispered, not believing her eyes.

“Do you trust me?” “Of course I do.”, she said. Gently he took her hand and made a small cut, holding her hand above the blue coloured egg. Her blood dripped down and shocked she watched as the eggs sort of absorbed the drops of her blood. Same as the green and silver eggs from Syrax did with her son’s blood earlier. “What is happening?”, she asked in disbelief. “Blood magic.”, her uncle said. “But I thought that knowledge was lost, how did you…?”, she couldn't even finish her question, she as to shocked to speak. “It is lost. But I saw how the eggs absorbed your twins blood, and maybe Blood magic isn’t as hard to bring back as many of us thought. Maybe we just need what words alone tell us. The general knowledge of Valyrian magic is lost. But I imagine the trigger of Blood Magic is blood. I thought I could give it a try.”, he explained. “Still you could have given me a warning before you sliced your hand open with a dagger. You scared me!”, she hissed, digging her nails into his arm.

“Apologize little dragon. Next time I will warn you.”, he promised. “Next time?!”, she exclaimed. Before she could utter another word, he silenced her and turned her face towards the eggs. The cracks got larger. With bated breath they waited and waited. Just when they thought nothing would happen, because the cracks stopped growing, the shells burst open. First the golden egg, a golden scaled hatchling emerged. His wings had a pinkish hue to them. Carefully, Damon picked it up, gently holding the hatchling, who was small enough to fit into his palm. A few minutes passed in silence, even the new hatchling was still. Then the shrieking of another dragon broke the silence. The blue eggshell was destroyed and in the mess there was a gorgeous blue hatchling. Looking straight at her. After a few seconds, it flapped its wings and stumbled towards her. Cautiously, she picked it up and observed it. The blue hatchling was purring and curled itself against her palm.

“Daemon that is unbelievable.”, she whispered. “A miracle indeed. Sees like we have six hatchlings to take care of now.” The gods must be smiling upon them. First Syrax laid five eggs in her first clutch, then two of her girl’s eggs hatched minutes after coming into contact with her boy's blood. And now two other hatchlings hatched because of her and Daemon’s blood. Maybe the Fourteen Flames were on her side today, and she could finally sleep better with the knowledge of the god's favour shining upon her family. Because such a miracle did not happen to just anyone. She couldn’t wait for her father to hear the news. Or for Alicent.

Her former friend mocked her sons in court, because their eggs had yet to hatch, despite being warm. Even though Alicent own children’s eggs had gone cold, each egg, that was placed in their crib, remained warm for only a few days. Nearly every egg in the Dragonpit was placed in her half-siblings cribs. Except the two that now hatched. Alicent would surely rage. Aerion and Baelon were now the future riders of dragons, while Aegon, Helaena and Aemond remained dragonless. The Crown Princess felt pity for her half-siblings, but for her ehr sons were her first priority. Therefore, she had to use the every advantage she could gain. Even in form of harmful gossip. What Alicent could do, she could do as well.

Chapter Text

Ravens were sent from the tower where Maester Gerardys resided. One to Kingslanding. One to the Stepstones and another one to Driftmark. Two of these letters were written by the hand of Crown Princess Rhaenyra, and the third was written by the hand of Prince Daemon. The three ravens that carried the letters, were the fastest Dragonstone had to offer. Once the news made their way to Kingslanding, they spread like wildfire in all the Seven Kingdoms. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryens twin sons: Prince Aerion Targaryen's and Prince Baelon Velaryon's eggs hatched. Two dragons, born from the union of Syrax and Caraxes. Their own Mother's dragon was the Princes newborn hatchlings mother.

The oldest Princes hatchling was of the colour green, with small red spikes and possessed already quite the temper, like his sire Caraxes. The hatchling rejected the touch of anyone but his future rider and the Princess Rhaenyra. Her current youngest son's dragon was a hatchling in the colour of silver and gold. Or rather its colour was called pearlescent with white golden markings. A gorgeous hatchling indeed. While the elder boys dragon took after his sire, the younger brother's hatchling took after his dam. The Crown Princess she-dragon Syrax. It’s slender body as well as the form of its head was similar to Syrax.

But more news were contained in the letters. Two additional hatchlings hatched. A golden hatchling, who the Prince Daemon called Sunfyre. And a blue coloured hatchling was born to Princess Rhaenyra, who she had taken to calling to Tessarion. The two hatchlings were housed in the Princess and Princess respective chambers, like the Princess sons hatchlings were housed inside the twins cribs.

The first to get the news was Driftmark. Only a few hours away from Dragonstone, on dragon back at least, the raven reached the castle of Driftmark first. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon, wife of Lord Corlys Velaryon and regent of Driftmark in her Lord-husband's absence took the letter from the keeps Maester. Her daughter, still on bed rest most of the time, sat beside her on a small chair. "Mother?", Laena asked. Her dear daughter was still fragile and injured from the birth of her children. The fever had gone down, but it was not fully healed yet. But her stubborn daughter had insisted upon being with her when petitions were held or ravens arrived. Laena was still hoping on hearing from Daemon. Her daughter did not want to believe her marriage would end soon. "A raven from Dragonstone.", she informed her daughter. "From Daemon?", Laena asked hopefully, her complex lighting up a bit. As much as Rhaenys loved her daughter, she could be naive from time to time.

"No your brother's wife has written.", Rhaenys answered. Laena pouted and rolled her eyes. "What does the princess want?" Rhaenys was aware of how much Laena disliked Rhaenyra. Firstly because Daemon gave her much more attention than Laena, his lawful wife. And secondly while Rhaenyra could pass of her twins bastard boys as Laenor's true-born sons, Laena could not do so with her children. Besides her only remaining child, her daughter was on Dragonstone with Rhaenyra and Daemon. Truth be told Aerion and Baelon looked quite similar to her cousin Aemma and her uncle Baelon. And they did somehow share her lady mother's hair colour. But that must be simple coincidence. These boys could not be her Laenor's offspring.

She loved her son, but he was unable to bed a woman. A closely kept secret in Driftmark, but all of Westeros heard rumours. Rumours that proved the boys' illegitimacy. But her husband was set on Baelon inheriting Driftmark. Even tough her daughters children should have been Driftmark heirs. But all people of the realm knew of her Laena's shame, and the shame she brought to House Velaryon and to her husband Prince Daemon. Rumours had it that the prince was in contact with the citadel, to annul the marriage. Other rumours said that he waited until the fever, that her daughter still was suffering from, became worse and would take her. No matter which of these was true or false, Laena would not stay married to Daemon for much longer. Two months had gone by since the crown princess and the prince Daemon's departure from High Tide.

Both her husband and son continued fighting in the blasted Stepstones, while she fought to keep the worst rumours silent and far away from her daughter. Laena did not need more stress. But Rhaenys was sure of two things. Truth one way or another, Daemon would get out of his second marriage. And that put her son at risk. The Queen who never was had seen the way her cousin looked at her niece, if Rhaenys could call Rhaenyra that. She imagined the younger princess wanted nothing to do with her, not that the Velaryon matriarch wanted to see her daughter-in-law again so soon. Daemon would kill her son to marry Rhaenyra.

The naive crown princess would never accuse her beloved uncle of slaying her husband. And Daemon would not do it himself, but he would send others to do it for him. Men without any link to him. So that the deed could not be traced back to him. Her cousin was a ruthless warrior, seeking blood and death and glory on the battlefield. He was already a legend. His reputation was grave enough to make her nervous. Even to fear for her son's life. She could only beg the gods to protect her boy.

Rhaenys had no love for Rhaenyra, the younger princess succeeded where she herself had failed. She remained heir, even tough her father had two sons, most likely more in the future, with his second wife. Of course, she had been insulted when Alicent Hightower was chosen by Viserys instead of her daughter, but deep down she was also relieved. Her little girl had time to grow up more, to find herself a love match. Laena was the daughter of the richest man in Westeros, and the daughter of a Targaryen princess. Had her grandfather not robbed her of her rightful heirship, she would be known as princess Laena. And Rhaenyra would be known as Lady instead of princess. But fate thought otherwise. Now her niece was the princess, the crowned heir apparent, her daughter should have been.

Nevertheless, it was better to see Rhaenyra ascend the iron Throne, instead of a half Hightower spawn. Instead of Otto Hightower's eldest grandson. She never liked the hand of the king much and never would. Rhaenys' pride was hurt, but even in her wounded state she would not step so low and become an ally to the Greens.

"What does the princess write, mother? Of her happy life with her bastard sons? Or about how good her life is now that she stole my husband from me?", Laena snapped. "Enough daughter. The walls have ears. And should word reach the king not even your father and I will be able to protect you from his wrath.", Rhaenys warned her. "What can the dragonless king do? I am Vhagar's rider, the Queen of the dragons, the largest dragon in the world is mine. I do not need your or father's protection from anyone.", her daughter was so much like Corlys. Prideful and very stupid sometimes. Blinded by pride, that was always a human's downfall. "Be still child. I will read the letter, but only if you cease interrupting me.", the Lady of Driftmark commanded. "Apologies mother."

Princess Rhaenyra did not write a long letter, something she used to do in the beginning of Laenor's and hers marriage. Now she used the bare minimum of words to inform her of something that left her shocked. Once upon a time the younger princess sought her comfort and guidance. Now she did not want anything from her. Rhaenys thought the princess would forever be in need of guidance, thought maybe she would have the opportunity to become her hand and guide her niece. That opportunity would never come to be now, not with Rhaenyra obvious disrespect. Giving birth to bastards and having the luck that they looked similar to dead relatives. Luck her dear daughter did not share with the Crown Princess.

Princess Rhaenys,

I write to inform you of the hatching of my son's eggs. Your grandsons Prince Aerion Targaryen and Prince Baelon Velaryon have successfully hatched two newly laid eggs from Syrax first clutch with her mate Caraxes. I wished to share the joyous news with you, since you are the boys paternal grandmother.

Signed Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir apparent of the Iron throne, Princess and Lady of Dragonstone.

Cousin,

my niece graciously allowed me to fill the rest of this page with my words. I am not a man of many words, so I will make it short. The citadel will annul my marriage to your daughter in a moons time. On the ground of Laena birthing bastards.

I would have thought since she is your daughter that she would be intelligent enough to choose a man with at least similarity colouring to me, but it was my luck that your daughter did not inherit your wit then. Furthermore, I care not what happens to your daughter, but my brother our beloved king has decreed that Laena Velaryon will be trained as a Silent sister in Oldtown.

As the citadel suggested as retribution for her crimes against the laws and against me. I wish her luck in Oldtown. Our aunt and great aunt thrived as Septa's, then Laena should not have a problem to become a Silent Sister, given her little Targaryen blood.

As you well know Viserys would not have granted my request, but his beloved daughter asking on behalf of her uncle, that he will not deny. If you had been smarter you would have seen what potential my niece has.

Alas, you let yourself be controlled by your ambition. You and your husband both, may that be your downfall. Be sure that our gods retaliate for our greed. Same as the Hightowers will pay for their arrogance, your House will as well. Since House Velaryon is your house know, after all you abandoned a fellow Targaryen, when she repeatedly asked for your help and advise.

Signed Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the Blood and King of the Narrow Sea.

Rhaenys nearly crumbled the letter when she recognized her younger cousins writing. Daemon had always been a master at riling people up. Especially Viserys and herself. Though she once imagined herself to be above such antics, nevertheless Daemon easily managed to wake her anger. Meleys roared, woken by her riders anger. Her beloved dragon, living in the depth of the tunnel system located in the cliffs of Driftmark, similar to Dragonstones cave system, but not even half as big or complicated. Her Red Queen, once the mount of her aunt Alyssa, was her companion for many decades. Unlike her husband the she-dragon remained a constant companion in her life. Something she hoped Vhagar would be for her daughter, however the old war dragon, once the mount of her beloved uncle Baelon, barely listened to Laena on her best days. Her daughter had often ridden the old she-dragon, but most of the time Vhagar only complied with her commands when it suited her.

Unlike with her uncle Baelon. Vhagar had obeyed him flawlessly. Rhaenys always believed the rumour that Targaryens were to only ones to be able to bond with dragons to be false. Only a propaganda created by her late grandsire, to ensure no one outside the Targaryen royal family tried to claim one of their dragons. Which would greatly undermine their rule. But every rumour had a certain truth in it. Targaryen blood was certainly necessary to bond with a dragon, but it was unknown how much Targaryen blood had to flow through one's veins in order to be able to properly bond with a dragon.

She imagined a Targaryen with nearly pure lineage such as Daemon, uncle Baelon and even Rhaenyra had it easier to bond with their respective dragons. At least the bond was deeper than it seemed to be with Laena and her Vhagar. Rhaenys fully blamed Corlys Velaryon blood for it. Because of him, their children were only about a quarter Targaryen, enough to claim dragons, but not to fully bond them.

Laenor had it easier with Seasmoke, than his elder sister had with Vhagar. The old she-dragon had riders before her daughter, riders who rode her for a long time and were nearly purely Targaryen. Visenya and Baelon Targaryen, both warriors who fought in wars with the last dragon of the conquest. The peaceful and rather dull life with Laena was something Vhagar did not know and thus did not truly welcome.

Seasmoke on the other hand grew alongside Laenor. He claimed the hatchling at the age of five. Neither two eggs the Rhaenys' grandmother gifted them had hatched. Instead, Rhaenys had taken Laenor and Laena to Dragonstone one day and Seasmoke a hatchling of only a year back then had bonded with Laenor.

She assumed their bond was stronger than her daughter's with Vhagar, because Laenor was Seasmoke first rider. Seasmoke grew quite fast in freedom on Driftmark, but nevertheless he was only large enough to ride on Laenor three and tenth’s nameday. Rhaenyra had flown on her golden, yellow she-dragon since her seventh nameday. A fact that filled Daemon with pride and herself with envy.

Truthfully she envied her niece because of a lot of things. She was granted an egg for her cradle, it hatched, and she properly bonded with it as well. Then she rode on dragonback with both her uncle and her grandfather and even a few times with the Good Queen and the Conciliator. Until her seventh nameday, when she mounted her own dragon, barely large enough to hold her steady, but she managed to fly on her own for the very first time. Then she was named heir and Viserys still upheld her as such, despite having two sons, with Valyrian looks. She did not fall behind in the line of succession, no Rhaenyra remained the first in line. Her twins took up the position of second and third in line. Her brothers and her sister would now only be fourth, fifth, and sixth in line.

Rhaenys could acknowledge Daemon as the best dragonrider in the family, he had been to war with Caraxes and flew all over the continent and to foreign lands with his dragon. Unlike her who only ever really flew the distances between Driftmark and Kingslanding and Driftmark and Dragonstone or Kingslanding and Dragonstone. But she had more experience than either of her children or Rhaenyra, who also had flown about the same distances as Rhaenys did. From what her informants claimed, before the younger princess was named heir she flew daily on Syrax. So she had more practice than Laena or Laenor, tough her son also had been at war with Seasmoke.

Of course, he had done a great deal, still it was Daemon that won the war, Laenor was ordered to keep as far away from battle as possible, remaining on his dragon and only burning their enemies. He was good with a sword, his interest however was more with pretty squires or knights of Driftmark. Not that Rhaenyra had received any lessons in swordsmanship. Viserys had denied his daughter that particular request, but Rhaenys doubted Daemon would deny his niece's request to train her, should she ask him.

Laena as well had no experience with a sword or any other weapon. She was a lady, that simple just rode a dragon as well. Embroidery was boring for her, that much remained true, she preferred to fly on Vhagar, but the old dragon was asleep most of the time. Nevertheless, in a few precious moments Rhaenys witnessed what could have been an incredible bond between her daughter and the largest living dragon. But just like Corlys, Laena was to ambitious and did not have enough patience to form a proper and stable bond.

Once upon a time Rhaenys had tried to teach her daughter to be more patient, which had only resulted in failure. Laena was Corlys daughter through and through. Of course even the Velaryon were Valyrian and thus learned High Valyrian, but her children learned to speak common first. Only afterwards being taught High Valyrian by Maesters, because Rhaenys was to use to tutor them, since her husband was often away on his voyages, which left her in charge of Driftmark and the Driftwood Throne.

Daemon had taken time to teach Rhaenyra High Valyrian first. And even Aemma, her shy and gentle Arryn cousin, had spoken High Valyrian around her daughter. Even though Viserys wife only began to be tutored in it when she came to reside in the Red Keep. Viserys was the only one who regularly used common around his child. Not even her uncle Baelon did. He also frequently spoke to Rhaenyra in High Valyrian or sung to her in their ancestral language. As a result her niece's High Valyrian was flawless, only her common had a certain accent.

Rhaenys had been so deep within her thoughts that she did not register her daughter's tantrum. "How dare he?! I am a Valyrian, same as he is! I am Vhagar's rider and a worthy wife for him! It is not my fault he refused to bed me after our wedding night. I am worthier of him than that entitled princess. And he has the audacity to send me to the Silent Sisters?! I will never let such shame befall me! Father will hear about this and then....", Laena raged. Truly she understood her daughter's anger and frustration, but it was her own fault. Of course the fault did not only was with Laena herself, but also with Corlys and Rhaenys. They had raised their daughter to arrogant. Given here everything she asked for and more. Never was a wish denied. Not on Driftmark. All inhabitants adored the Lady and thus only love was given to her. In Kingslanding she did not receive the same treatment. Without question, it was similar, after all she remained a distant cousin to the royal family.

But in Kingslanding, Rhaenyra was the most pampered and adored girl. The Realms delight, adored by the nobility and the small folk alike. "Then what Laena? Your father can do nothing. Neither can I. The Kings word is law. And the citadel granted the annulment. A Septon oversaw it and only the citadel can revoke it. Daemon has his brothers and in this matter Oldtowns backing. There is no chance to fight this.", Rhaenys had to be truthful to her child. Laena could not forever remain trapped in her own delusion.

"But mother, it isn't fair. How can he do such a thing to me? He chose me as his wife. Me, not her! Why is he picking her over me every time?", now her daughter was crying. On her knees, sitting on the ground. Rhaenys sat down beside her and took her into her arms. "Oh my sweet child. This world isn't fair. Men can do whatever they want. And Daemon was always rapped around your cousins fingers, since her childhood. He would pick her above anyone. It was my mistake. I should never let him marry you.", she whispered.

"But why mother. I thought....", crying her daughter tried finding the right words to express herself. "I know what you thought, but your recklessness laid the groundwork for him. If you had picked wiser, you would have selected a Valyrian man to have bastards with. Then maybe then, these babes would have been legitimate in the realms eyes. But that chance has passed. Do not think about him any more my sweet. We will find a way out of this and a way to heal you completely.", Rhaenys soothed her. Even though she was well aware, that no cure existed for her daughter's illness. Because of her grandchildren's traumatic birth, she was unable to carry another child, and even if she got pregnant again, it would lead to her demise. No man would take her to wife.

Rhaenys was sure whatever rumours existed about her daughter, she had yet not silenced, were produced and spread by those local to Daemon. The whole realm most likely knew some kind of story. True or false did not matter. The nobility and the smallfolk alike would delight in those rumours either way.

"Mother,....I'm c..ccc...old.", her daughter shivered in her arms. Looking around for any open windows the Lady of Driftmark looked around. But not one window was open. "Laena,..", abrupt she stopped, laying a hand on her child's forehead. "You are hot Laena, not cold.", she answered. "I'm cold mother.", Laena repeated her words. The shivers intensified. Of course many Targaryens skin was hotter than those of ordinary people, but not that hot. "Guards, call the Maester, now!"

The second raven arrived at Kingslanding. A day after its departure. Unlike most of the time, the Maesters did not bring the letter to the Hand or the Queen first. Since neither the Grandmaester nor any other Maesters were currently present in the Red Keeps rockery. An acolyte of the Grandmaester, unaware of his mentor's arrangement with the Hand, took the letter directly to the King. And luck as on the Blacks side. The King had not yet taken his medicine and read the letter written in High Valyrian, in his daughter handwriting, without his mind clouded by the medicine his Hand and Queen insisted would make him feel better. At least that was what his Grandmaester told him.

Dear father,

I have not written in a few days, my apologies, I have been busy with my duties as heir and my children's care. I dare not leave then for long. They are so young still. We, the children, Daemon and I, welcome your visit in a few moons. We cannot wait to see you again. The boys miss their grandsire, but it is safer on Dragonstone for now. Where I know no one wishes them harm.

But enough of my rambling. I must inform you of wonderful news. My Syrax laid her first clutch today. And two of her eggs hatched only a short time after she delivered them. They hatched for my Aerion and my Baelon. Their eggs gifted by your gracious self have hatched as well. Fret not, my sons do not have two dragons.

Dreamfyre's two eggs hatched due to Daemon and me. It seems whoever is destinies to be their future riders will be defended from our blood. I named the hatchling that hatched through my blood Tessarion. A brilliant blue she-dragon. One day without a doubt a beautiful dragon, but none will surpass my own Syrax.

Daemon has taken to calling the hatchling born because of his blood, Sunfyre. His golden scales shine like the sun and the pinkish hue in his wings like fire. A fitting name I would say. What do you think?

Now to the truly important descriptions. My boys finally have their own dragons. They certainly love flying with me and Daemon, strapped to our chests, but nothing will be more wonderful than seeing them fly on their own one day. Hopefully a day that will be in the faraway future. Maybe I will finally understand the despair and fear motor, and you felt when Syrax and I conquered the skies for the first time.

Aerion's hatchling is greens of colour, his tiny spikes are red. A temperamental hatchling indeed. So much like his sire. The little hatchling has already bitten Daemon, because he was to close to Aerion for his comfort. We have decided to wait until my eldest can select his own dragons name. I chose Syrax name, my sons shall do the same.

As beautiful and feisty as the green hatchling is, Baelon's hatchling is much more endearing. Another male, same as his older brother. The two clutch mates were born a few minutes apart, similar to my twins, don't you think? Back to Baelon's dragon. He is truly gorgeous, a rival to even my Syrax beauty. Without a doubt he will become the prettiest male dragon House Targaryen has seen in many decades. His colour is truly unique. Pearlescent with white golden markings. A colour I have never seen before. Not even with Laenor's grey-silver Seasmoke.

Syrax and Caraxes are proud parents of the two, but they know their hatchlings are safe with us in the castle. Their three remaining eggs are perfectly protected and cared for. Same as Syrax remained with me, my sons will share their cradle with their hatchlings. A tradition of our family is it not? I have already written to Rhaenys and informed her of her grandsons eggs hatching. My letter to Laenor will take longer to arrive at the Stepstones. I hope he will at least write me back. I have not heard from him in many weeks. But surely he is busy with defending the realm together with his father. It is after all a war the Velaryon wanted, is it not father?

Nevertheless, I have written enough of my family here on Dragonstone. How have you been father? Has your health improved? I pray to the Fourteen Flames daily for your health and recovery. Please be truthful and do not hide from me. I do not wish to strain you, if the journey to Dragonstone is tiring for you and your wife, then we will celebrate my sons nameday in some years in Kingslanding.

My greeting to my siblings. I will send gifts for their nameday, I hope all of them will be received well. Be well father, I eagerly await your answer. I wished to persuade Daemon to write his own letter to you, but we both know how stubborn my uncle can be. Truly a dragonrider as stubborn as his dragon. At least I hope you two will find your peace with each other and cease your antics at least for the duration of your visit and my twins nameday. I love you father. 

Signed, your eldest daughter and heir Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Viserys laughed with joy. Truly most wonderful news. His grandsons were true Targaryens, taking after their mother, his beloved daughter. His eldest and heir. She was his pride and joy. Her boys would be the same to her, he was sure of it. A firstborn always had a special place in a parent's heart. Rhaenyra was Aemma's and his only and eldest child. So many of her siblings were lost, but she never ceased to try and made them feel better. As a child she had rarely been unhappy, instead her laughter and smiles had filled his wounded heart with happiness. Their little dragon filled their life with sunshine and hope. A hope that died with Aemma.

Viserys knew he had made mistakes. The King acknowledged, that marrying Alicent was a mistake. At the beginning he had thought it would be for the best. Alicent had been Rhaenyra's companion and friend for a long time, at the same time she also was his daughter's only Lady-in-waiting. A mistake when he thought back he would never be able to remedy. For months after his and Alicent marriage his daughter had done her best to avoid him and her former servant. He had to watch his once carefree and happy eldest became sullen and melancholic over time. Aegon's birth and Helaena's birth as well, made everything even worse.

At first Rhaenyra tried to spend time with her half-siblings, after he encouraged her to do so. Then after a time she stopped. He had no idea why. The king of course had not known that his wife had forbidden the Crown princess from being alone with her children add all but harassed the princess long enough for her to stop visiting them. His wife had been different for the past few months. He had noticed the change in her character and mood after Aemond's birth. She was harsh to the servants, firing many of her children's nurses and other servants. She often tried to do her wifely duties, but he had refused her. He desired to give her more time to recover. With Aemma he had seen what pregnancy after pregnancy could do.

Truthfully he was aware that Rhaenyra was more suited for the role of mother than his own wife. Alicent prayed for hours in the Sept each day and left their children in the care of their servants and nursemaids. His daughter on the other hand spent much time with her sons, always having a watchful eye on them every minute she could. In the beginning of her marriage to Laenor he feared she would be barren or would end up like her mother. His beloved Aemma struggled so much, and it took her life in the end. (Not that the King wanted to admit, that through his fault, his first Queen lost her life.)

His cousin's son wasn't the husband his daughter wished for, but she had managed to make it work. Viserys truly believed them to be a match that came to love each other. He was still disappointed that Laenor decided to fly to the Stepstones and fight his father's war with the Triarchy. Viserys would have preferred it to be Deamon in his stead. But the gods had no mercy on him. So his darling daughter was alone with her twins on Dragonstone with his ruthless brother. As much as it angered him, he could do nothing. In only two moons he would be able to finally see his eldest child and his grandchildren again.

He asked the servants after paper and ink to write his reply to his dear daughter. He had a hard time finding the right words to write to his daughter. Because he was sure his brother would read his reply over her shoulder. Without a doubt he had helped his daughter write her letter. A few hidden insults were easily recognizable for someone who knew Daemon since his birth. Not that Viserys believed he truly ever knew his brother. Unlike him, Daemon had chosen the path of a warrior, like their father and uncle before him. Bestowed with Dark Sister and knighted at a tourney by their grandsire the Old King when he was only ten and five. A legend despite not being dead yet. A man many admired and feared at the same time, in all of Westeros. Daemon was all that Viserys was not. A warrior, a beloved Prince, a famous knight and popular. 

As much as his heart ached and his pride was hurt by it, one fact could not be denied. Daemon had a soft spot for Rhaenyra. His brother adored his little girl. A niece he spoilt from the moment she was born. It was Daemon who sneaked into the Dragonpit unseen, in the middle of the night. He took one of Silverwings oldest eggs from the pit's hatchery and laid said egg inside his daughter crib. The next morning Viserys and his wife had been shocked to see a golden egg inside their newly born daughter cradle. Only a few hours later the King had got the news and stormed divide the nursery. Or rather he would have stormed inside, if his father Baelon had stopped the Old King. Calmly spoken to him until Jaehaerys the Conciliator was calm enough to act rationally. Of course the King had demanded to know who had bestowed his daughter with the dragon egg without his permission.

Daemon, who had trailed after their father, had easily admitted to being the one to select a dragon egg for his niece. When their grandsire wanted to rant angrily, his father proved once more why he was called Baelon the Brave. The eldest remaining son of King Jaehaerys was famous for being a great warrior, a devoted brother and a capable advisor to his father, even before becoming heir to the throne. It wasn't often that the King and his heir openly disagreed on something or that his father openly challenged his grandsire.

For Daemon's safety, because his grandsire had been beyond enraged, Baelon had positioned himself in between his youngest son and his ageing father. Still he spoke as calmly as the Crown Prince always did. The voice of reason he learned to be after uncle Aemon's death. He reasoned with the old dragon and calmed him down enough to hear his youngest grandsons reasons.

If he remembered correctly Daemon had said: "Rhaenys and Lord Corlys offspring were allowed to receive two eggs, even tough they are the two last heirs of your crown and do not even have a claim to the name Targaryen. They are Velaryon and nevertheless you and grandmother decided to reward them with two eggs. Why should my niece be denied something her cousins, a mere lord and a mere lady were allowed? She is a Targaryen princess and will marry within our line, there is no harm for her to have an egg with her."

Their father supported Daemon's argument, to Viserys surprise his wife, his gentle, and shy Aemma, supported Daemon's action as well. And so an agreement was struck. A certain amount of time was laid out and until then the golden egg would remain within his daughter crib. Should the egg hatch another conversation would be held if his daughter would be allowed to keep the dragon. Should it not hatch, it would return to the hatchery. Though Daemon was punished regardless. Their grandfather send him back to Runestone and grounded him for two months.

For weeks Aemma and him had waited with batted breaths, they had all but given up, when the last night of the deadline passed. But the royal family awaited a surprise inside the young princesses crib. A golden, yellow hatchling, more golden than yellow really, was curled up with his infant daughter. Protectively spread wings and a tail wrapped around one of Rhaenyra's legs. A day later his younger brother arrived on dragonback and the Old King was persuaded to let Viserys tiny daughter keep the hatchling. Thus, Syrax and Rhaenyra became a bonded pair.

Just as he started to finally write his reply the doors to his chambers opened and Ser Harrold announced the Queen and the Hand. "The Queen Consort Alicent Hightower and the Hand of the King Otto Hightower, your Grace." Viserys knew of his Lord Commanders hostility towards his second wife and her family, he knew how much Ser Harrold loved Rhaenyra. Sometimes the old knight behaved more like her father than the King did, a fact that filled Viserys with envy and at the same time thankfulness. At least one male figure in his daughter's life could be trusted to remain at her side constantly. His father died when Rhaenyra was young, his daughter had been inconsolable for weeks after his death. Viserys was often absent because of his role as King and Daemon spent most of his time exiled. Though he was ashamed to admit it, even though Daemon was banished many times, his brother spent more time with Rhaenyra than he did. And he was her father.

"Husband I was informed you received a letter from Dragonstone.", Alicent said sweetly. In the past years his wife had changed drastically. Ever since Rhaenyra's weeding she wore Hightower green, something he should not allow, but he was too tired to deal with her antics. "Since when do you have to be informed when I receive letters wife? Are you above me as Queen consort now? Me, your husband and your King?", he questioned, an eyebrow raised. "Of...of course not Lord husband.", she said shocked and bowed her head. "The Queen meant well, your Grace. She was only worried for your health.", his Lord hand aided his daughter. Viserys sighed, Rhaenyra was still cross with him, because he kept Otto Hightower as Hand. Briefly he had considered to make Lord Lyonel Strong his new Hand, but Otto was his friend and Daemon was a selfish man, who had taken his daughter into a brothel. Since that day his daughter spoke the bare minimum with him and all but refused to speak with Alicent or Otto.

"My daughter has written with joyous news. That is all." "What news does the princess have, if I may ask your Grace?", Otto questioned. "My daughter is the crowned heir apparent Otto, you would do well to remember that.", he advised. "My apologies your Grace, I will be more careful in the future.", his hand bowed his head. The King did not notice his wife's and good-father's sour and angry expression at being corrected.

"My grandsons prove to be their mother's sons." "Whatever do you mean husband?", the Queen asked, praying silently to the Seven that it did not mean what she thought it could mean. "Aerion and Baelon have hatchlings. Two of Syrax eggs hatched minutes after they were delivered. My grandsons will be dragonriders like their mother and father.", the King was oblivious to the two Hightowers shock. Alicent found her voice first. "And what of the two eggs you gifted them, your grace? Do they remain unhatched?", she asked eagerly. Information she could use to further weaken Rhaenyra's reputation. The whore had to switch her son's eggs, because the first two remained unhatched. (As if not all the eggs she had demanded to be given to her sons went cold and remained unhatched.)Two eggs her sons could claim. A dragon born to them would prove to the realm, that they were true princes and Viserys true heirs, not her spoiled, entitled bitch of a stepdaughter.

"No they have hatched as well." "Pardon? What do you mean your Grace?", the Hand asked perplex. "Syrax and Caraxes first clutch together was laid yesterday or two days ago. Two of those eggs hatched minutes afterwards for my grandsons Prince Aerion and Prince Baelon. Their originals eggs hatched for Rhaenrya and Daemon, who will take care of them, until they find their riders, among my daughters and brothers blood."

The two head of the Green faction believed their gods had smiled upon them, granting them an opportunity to further strengthen Aegon's claim. "Should these two hatchlings not be transferred to the Dragonpit immediately husband? As well as the remaining eggs of the princess dragon?" Alicent wanted her sons to bond with these beasts, so they would finally be acknowledged as rightful heirs. And even better should one of her stepdaughter's dragon's eggs hatch for one of her sons, then that would be a blow, the bratty princess would not recover from anytime soon. But their hopes were dashed within second, by the man they thought would easily bow to their whims.

"You should not speak of matters you do not understand Alicent. Syrax eggs belong to Rhaenyra by right. Every female dragon's rider is entitled to decide what happens with their dragons clutches. Regarding the hatchlings, I imagine they will thrive upon Dragonstone much better than they would do here in the pit. And since they were born on Dragonstone soil, they fall under the princess of Dragonstones jurisdiction. It is also my heir's decision.", he answered harshly. "Apologies husband, I only thought if our sons could possibly,...", she tried, but was stopped by the King. "Enough of that. You are disturbing my rest and are wasting my time. For today no council meetings are set, and I have important matters to tend to. So remove yourself from my chambers, I wish to be alone.", he ordered, with more authority in his voice, than in many years. Without a word the Queen Consort nearly fled the Kings chambers, closely followed by her faithful dog and Sworn Sword Criston Cole. "My King.", Otto Hightower tried his luck, but the years of an easy manipulative Targaryen King had made him sloppy. "Cease your speech Otto. I also meant you. Ser Harrold, remove the Hand from my chamber and do not let anyone inside my chambers again, without my direct consent." "As you wish, your Grace.", the Lord Commander did not smile, he looked neutral, and nevertheless Viserys knew he was positively surprised.

Ser Harrold removed the Hand, who with his wounded pride, slipped into his tower to continue plotting treason. Finally, the King had the silence he needed to write his reply. Surprisingly in High Valyrian and sent to Dragonstone by the same acolyte, that brought the King the message. While the Greens seethed with anger at being denied once again, the oblivious king wrote his answer to his favourite child. My dear, darling child,....

The last raven arrived at the Stepstones two days after the second raven reached Kingslanding. Lord Corlys Velaryon thought at first his wife had sent another raven demanding for him and their son to return home. Or for him to petition the King to do something against whatever retaliation Daemon had planned against their daughter. He loved his children, truthfully he had always given Laena everything she desired, he spoiled her too much. But she got herself into that mess, and would have to deal with the consequences herself. In that regard he could no longer help her. Daemon would kill him otherwise.

Many thought the Rouge Prince was a tourney knight like so many others of the realm, but unlike the pompous knights of Kingslanding, Prince Daemon had fought in wars and slew many enemies. The man had more enemies than Corlys himself did. So the Velaryon Lord was shocked and worried when the letter revealed to be from Daemon. Of course written in High Valyrian. He learned to speak High Valyrian, as a defendant from one of the three last Valyrian Houses, it was tradition to at least learn to speak it. Writing and reading it were different lessons, he had mostly ignored in favour of going sailing.

So he had to wait for his son to return from his flight with Seasmoke. That his children rode dragons brought him immense pride and joy. Besides House Targaryen, House Velaryon was the only House with access to dragons. If his daughter had handled her situation better, he would even have dragon riding grandchildren. Which would now only be achieved through Princess Rhaenyra and his son. But he had his doubts about his son’s marriage to the Crown Princess.

Deep down he cared if his grandsons were bastards, but otherwise he loved them as he loved Laenor. He would not condemn innocent boys for something they had no fault in. History remembered names not blood. Besides, they were clearly Rhaenyra’s sons and Targaryens with their close resemblance to the late Queen Aemma and the late Crown Prince Baelon. His good-father’s younger brother had been a prince like no other. He would have made a glorious King, but either the gods or traitors did not want to risk the Spring Princes ascension. He did not second much time with his distant Targaryen cousins, but he respected Prince Baelon. And Queen Aemma’s, for doing what most noble woman would never do. Risking their lives with each pregnancy to give her husband the son he desired. At the end the gentle Queen died for nothing. But her blood would sit on the Iron Throne. Just like his.

At first, he had been angry that the Crown Princess chose none Velaryon names, but his son made it clear that they both discussed names for their children beforehand. Both parents were happy with the name, so he soothed his pride with the fact, that Baelon would carry the name Velaryon forever end would uphold Corlys. Maybe a betrothal to one of Vaemond’s children or future grandchildren would keep the Velaryon line pure enough. Not that he would set anything into stone yet, he did not want to deal with Vaemond’s smugness anytime soon.

Finally, Corlys heard the roar of his son’s dragon echoing above the war camp. The Triarchy was a constant pain in his ass, especially with the suitable support of House Martell of Dorne and their two new commanders. He wished Daemon was here, then their campaign would have been much easier. Without him Corlys lost ship after ship to the two pirate commanders. Not even Laenor and his dragon could burn their enemies fast enough to save their own men. Their numbers were weakened, and the pirates knew it as well. They needed more dragons. But he could not bring himself to ask his wife and daughter to come. Of course Laena and her Vhagar would have been a monumental help, but his daughter was still sickly and weak. In no condition to ride her dragon. And Rhaenys would never leave their daughter alone in Driftmark.

He could only pray, that Prince Daemon would hear his plea and would decide to come to the Stepstones. “Father, a letter from Dragonstone arrived?”, Laenor asked when he entered his father’s tent. “Yes indeed.” “What has my wife written?”, he asked. In the past months Rhaenyra had written a few letters to him, every new one shorter than the last, she kept him updated on their boys, but he did not have the courage to write back.

“This time it is not Princess Rhaenyra that writes to us soon. It is Prince Daemon.”, he informed his son. “Daemon? Why would he write to us? Did he change his mind and decide to help us after all?”, Laenor asked, a bit relieved by the prospect of having his great uncle to cousin was it?, with them in the war, it would be much easier with Daemon here.

“We shall see, here read it please.”, Corlys instructed him.

Lord Corlys, Laenor,

I shall no longer call you good-father or good-brother, seeing as Laena and my marriage was annulled by both the citadel and the King. Do not have any ideas, I will not tolerate you making this harder than it has to be. Stand against my decision and pay the price.

But I did not write to you only to inform you of the end of my marriage. I write on behalf of Rhaenyra. My niece has written many letters, of which all were left unanswered. I would not have thought you to be such a coward Laenor. Truly you disappoint me, boy. My niece has asked me to inform you of wonderful news. The Crown Princess sons are to be dragonriders. Eggs from Syrax first clutch hatched minutes after they were touched by Rhaenyra’s twins. Two hatchlings now watch over the next Targaryen generation. Additionally, their original eggs hatched as well, though later in the castle with Rhaenyra and me as witness.

Furthermore, my niece will no longer write any letters, seeing as you have no interest in your sons development, otherwise you would have at least sent one letter in the past few months. For a man who swore to try better, you are on the wrong way cousin. I will no longer tolerate any harm or insult towards my niece. Get yourself together or experience the consequences. I will not warn you again.

And to your last letter Corlys, I made my position clear months ago. I will not help you in this war. You alone are responsible for it. Deal with it yourself. You do not wish for help from the King, then you don’t need my help. Do not ask me again, otherwise I will be inclined to help the Triarchy. I said it to Rhaenys and I will say the same to you. Your greed will be your downfall.

Signed Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the Blood and King of the Narrow Sea.

Corlys stared at his son, when he finished reading the letter aloud. He could not believe his ears. Completely ignoring the rest of Daemon's letter except one detail. After months of waiting his grandchildren had managed what only their mother managed before them in a long time. Hatching dragons from eggs. It did no mater, that the eggs were not the original ones given to them. The symbolism of Syrax being the twin dragons mother was much better, than the hatching of two of Dreamfyre’s eggs. According to his wife, barely any of them hatched. Similar to Silverwings clutches. Seasmoke had hatched from one of Dreamfyre’s eggs, and Syrax had hatched from one of Silverwings eggs.

“That demands for a feast son, your children finally have dragons.”, Corlys exclaimed. While the Velaryon Lord celebrated, his son stood frozen staring at Daemon’s letter. His father had always said, a hand had the right to have space and time away from his wife and children. A mother was supposed to watch over the children. They would need their father when they would grow older. Training them in combat would be his responsibility. However, his wife had given him more freedom than anyone else in his life. She shielded him from the court gossip and covered for him whenever he was with one of his affairs. She knew not about every partner he had in the past few years, but she let him do whatever he wanted. Only insisting on spending enough time together, to keep up appearance at the royal court.

Rhaenyra was the one who comforted him after Joffrey’s death. She held him while he wept for his love. And assured him that they would not have to consummate their marriage for now. She was not yet read for a child, and did not want to put him through the misery of consummating their marriage with her. Only when their parents began to press for heirs, did they consummate it. It was painful for all of them. But they made it work somehow. And it resulted in their perfect two boys. They were mirror images of Rhaenyra’s late mother and grandsire, with his mother’s and grandmother’s Baratheon hair. He had not seen Aerion and Baelon in months. And truthfully he missed them. He even missed his wife’s company.

He made many mistakes, mistakes he regretted and wanted to make amends for. All the responsibility had fallen onto Rhaenyra’s shoulders. But his dear cousin had not complained, instead she took it upon herself to take care of their twins and of him as well. He hadn’t been a good father or husband to either of them. Instead of helping, he made Rhaenyra’s situation worse. She never harmed him in any way, despite everything she remained on his side. He wanted to do better and was determined to change once this blasted war was won. If only he knew he would never again see his sons or his wife. He would never have the chance to apologize or make amends, war had many casualties and in one moment everything could change.

Neither of the two Velaryon men knew, that the Fourteen Flames had enough of them. They were part of those who tore apart their two champions. They weakened the House they had saved from Valyria’s Doom. Not only that, but they and many others would come to understand, that the Fourteen Flames stood by long enough. Barely anyone worshipped them any longer. The Faith of the Seven who are one, to dominant in the Seven Kingdoms, but unlike those gods, the fourteen Flames cared about their followers. And two of those would come from their blood would stop the White walkers once and for all. The Targaryen's were led out of Valyria to be the saviours of the world. But the once great House of the Dragon was on its way to disappear. All Fourteen Flames all agreed that it was time to do something. It was time for them to intervene. Otherwise, the world would stop existing in a few hundred years.

Chapter Text

Rhaenys was going crazy. First her daughter's condition got worse after that blasted letter arrived. And then a few days after, a letter from the citadel came. They would send a ship and men to escort Laena to Oldtown. As if she would let such a thing happen. She would rather feed these people to Meleys. Rhaenys would never let them take her only daughter away from her. A moon had gone by. Her der child was much better, but her illness was still not cured. Rhaenys hoped she could use that as excuse to keep her longer safely on Driftmark. She replied as much to the citadel, but those blasted men there only write back, that they had many Maesters who would take care of her daughter. A Silent Sister could be ill, after all they were only needed when a Nobel was to be buried.

The Lady of Driftmark raged and raged when she did not get a reply from her husband. Corlys would not help her save their daughter. Once again her husband left her to fend for herself. He left her for weeks even months on end when he was on one of his voyages. He barely informed her of his plans. Which was why the betrothal he had arranged with the Sea Lords son was such a surprise for her. Oh, how angry she had been with him back then. If only she had let Meleys devour him back then. Then she could have guilt-tripped her younger cousin in giving Corlys seat to Laena instead of Laneor. Her son after all was married to the Crown princess, he would be King Consort and would have no time to do his duties as Lord of the Tides and Lord of Driftmark. With her guidance Laena however would have been able to do so. She would have searched for a better husband for her daughter. A husband who respected and supported her. A husband who would have been beneficial for House Velaryon. Corlys had first settled their daughter with a drunkard and a useless boy. The Sea Lords son was only powerful as long as his father lived. After the Sea Lords death the arrogant boy had settled on Driftmark drunk their wine ate their food and amused himself with House Velaryons gold. Up until Daemon killed him in a duel

Laena had somehow created a clever plan that involved her idiotic fiancé provoking her cousin enough for him snap and kill the Sea Lords son. Originally she did not want Laena to marry Daemon, her cousin was famous for sleeping with whores. She did not want him to shame her daughter. He wasn't worthy of her at all. No man was. A few times Corlys and she had discussed his nephew, Vaemond's eldest son Daemion, as a potential match for Laena. It would have sated Vaemond's greed for power. Her husbands younger brother always believed he should be Driftmark next Lord, even though unlike Corlys he did nothing to deserve his inheritance.

But Corlys wanted Daemon as his son-in-law. And what the Lord of the Tides wanted he mostly got. He was a clever man who knew how to manipulate certain people to gain what he wanted. The only one who could truly deny him was the royal family. Viserys and his family stood above them otherwise in power and wealth none truly rivalled them. House Velaryon possessed three grown dragons. Two war hardened. Seamsoke and Vhagar. Vhagar was the largest living dragon and the last conquest dragon. And they had the fastest dragon alive. Meleys. Her own mount was unrivalled in speed. Caraxes was fast, but Meleys was much faster. But once Rhaenyra's dragon Syrax grew more, the young agile she-dragon could surpass Meleys in speed. For now however her dragon remained the fastest. And she had years of experience on Rhaenyra. Should a fight break out, she could easily win against her niece. But she would have to be more worried about Daemon to begin with. Daemon and Caraxes were one Soul and one body, they matched each other's energy. Much more than her father and Caraxes ever were.

A moon had passed to fast. The daily of the ship bearing the men of the citadel were already sighted on the horizon. She was tempted to take Meleys to the sky and burn the ship to crisp. But she restrained herself enough not to do that. She would only anger the citadel, something that would strain the relationship with the Maesters. Maesters who saved her daughter's life after the traumatic birth of her children.

Maesters were in all noble households. They taught the future lords and ladies. Maesters were responsible for a nobles education. She had no idea why her grandparents gave the Faith if the Seven who are one so much power. Septa's and Maester's educated young lords and ladies all around the realm, expect Dorne. The only remaining independent Kingdom.

Once she had considered the Prince of Dorne as a potential husband. But she could never send her daughter so far away from her. And in such hostile territory at that. Dornish people, Martells most of all, hated the Targaryen's. And House Targaryen in turn was hostile towards Dorne. But especially towards House Martell and House Uller. Because they were responsible for the death of their ancestor Queen Rhaenys and her silver she-dragon Meraxes. House Uller shot Meraxes with a scorpion bolt. A lucky shot into the dragons eye, that killed her and her rider. House Martell had kept the great dragons bones for themselves and only send back the head. And Rhaenys corpse was never recovered. No one knew if the Targaryen Queen was alive after her dragon was shot and if she was tortured by House Martell or if the fall killed her instantly. No matter Rhaenys siblings had burned Dorne over and over again for the death of their sister. Nevertheless, Dorne remained independent and had not bent the knee to the Targaryens.

Sending her young daughter into such hostile territory was out of the question. Especially because she was Vhagar’s rider. The last conquest dragon had burned much of Dorne, therefore was definitely not a welcome site in Dorne's skies. No Targaryen had tried to conquer the sandy Kingdom again. But the royal family certainly had conflicts with House Martell. Rhaenys remembered years ago her father, her uncle, and her grandsire flew out to war on Caraxes, Vhagar and Vermithor. Their riding armour paired with their swords and cloaks. King Jaehaerys with his Bronze armour, his black cloak and Blackfyre strapped to his hip. Her uncle Baelon with a black riding armour, a crimson cloak and Dark Sister strapped to his side. And lastly her father Crown Prince Aemon with a dark red cloak, black armour and his trusted sword strapped to his hip.

She remembered how he promised her mother and her to come back as soon as possible. Rhaenys never knew her father to break a promise he made. So the three Targaryen men flew out to meet the Martell army and their allies. Burning thousands of men without losing a single one of their own men. A lecture the Prince of Dorne would never forget. A normal human did not poke a dragon without suffering consequences. It only resulted in death. A lesson the Martell learned the hard way.

A lesson reason herself had learned the hard way again, when she was confronted with Daemon. On dragonback she could possibly win against him, with Meleys superior speed, but back in Rhaenyra's nursery in High Tide, she had stood in front of Daemon. Defenceless. Vulnerable. He could have killed her and Laena easily with two swift attacks. But he refrained from doing so. Instead, he chose to install fear in them. Fear was a way he often picked, to keep his enemies at bay. Rhaenys had made an enemy of her younger cousin, the day she threatened Rhaenyra. A terrible mistake that would cost Rhaenys her daughter.

She had begged the Fourteen Flames to spare her daughter her horrible fate with the Silent Sisters, but nothing happened. No divine intervention. No sign the gods were in her side. Her gods remained silent, as if they refrained from interfering. Maybe they were punishing her for all her mistakes. For the neglect her faith suffered since she took up residence in Driftmark. Her father had taught her to worship the Fourteen Flames, but since she married Corlys she barely prayed to the Valyrian gods any more. Something that must have offended them. Her punishment for that neglect was the painful loss of her only daughter. Having to live with the knowledge, that her girl would live for years, far away from her in a strange place made her heart ache. She would be forever separated from her oldest child.

If she kept Laena here on Driftmark, sooner or later the King would get involved. Say what you wanted about the King, but he never denied his eldest anything. And despite many misunderstandings and problems between the two royal brothers, they would forever have each other's back. Viserys would choose Daemon over her daughter without a second thought. He would pick him over her as well. Values taught to them by her uncle the Spring Prince could not be so easily forgotten. At least not by Daemon, as much as her younger cousin fought with each other, he would never turn his back on Viserys. Not like Viserys would. Of course the King had chosen his Hightower family, but regardless he would never take her side over Daemon. Especially not if Rhaenyra was on Daemon's side.

One thing, she had to acknowledge, Rhaenyra knew how to successfully manipulate her father with a few words or a blink of her eyes. Both Viserys and Daemon were rapped around her finger. If she asked, they would burn the world to the ground. Daemon would literally do so. Viserys would find other ways. Even Baelon was so enamoured with his first and only grandchild that he began smiling just for her. After aunt Alyssa's and her own father's death her uncle had nearly stopped smiling at all. Always surrounded by a melancholic aura. The day Rhaenyra was born it was said he smiled brightly. After all he was the first one to hold her. Born under Vhagar's wing in a carriage on the rode from the Vale back to the Red Keep.

She remembered her uncle fondly, a friendly man, a Targaryen that was proud of his family and protected those he loved with all his power. He had avenged her father, when he was killed in Tarth. And unlike Viserys or Daemon he had not been angry with her for claiming Meleys. He congratulated her and nothing more. Once upon a time she had been alright with being passed over for him. He was a just and kind man. Would have been a good ruler, having grown up alongside her father. The gods had other plans. His death was a shock resonating through the whole realm. Viserys, Daemon, Aemma and young Rhaenyra had been distraught. Back then her heart ached, and she was angry at Corlys for daring to celebrate Baelon Targaryens death. Her husband had been lucky, that her grandsire had not been informed, otherwise the Old King would have slain him as retribution. At the same time she was wounded by her family once again. Her grandfather had been too much of a coward to decide on his future heir himself. Thus, the Lords of the realm decided for him. So Viserys was selected over her. And the position of Hand was given to a second son of a minor House. Otto Hightower. A position he still inhabited today.

The past moon had not given her much time to think, caring for her daughter, ruling Driftmark and keeping rumours at bay was stressing and left her with barely any time to do anything else. She barely got to ride her beloved mount. Laena was much better, but not completely healthy. She would get no better on the blasted ship they wanted to transport her to Oldtown. Daemon's letter had infuriated her. Her daughter wasn't like Rhaella or their aunt Magaelle. She was a free spirit, not a meek shy girl. It wasn't fair. Maybe she could write to her uncle Vaegon, an Archmaester in Oldtown. He could watch over her child. She wouldn't risk asking that of Rhaella. Her distant cousin had not spoken or written to any other Targaryens in decades. She wasn't even sure if Rhaella was still alive.

Rhaenys sighed and shook her head, sitting at Corlys desk looking over letters and mischiefs was exhausting. And she had got no word from either Laenor or her husband. At least she had her peace with Vaemond and his sons and many others of Corlys Velaryon relatives fighting in the war as well. Otherwise, she would already have screamed. Her good-brother was an irritating man. It was truly a surprise he was still alive with his attitude. A knock on the door tore her out of her thoughts. "Come in." "Princess Rhaenys, the ship with Oldtowns men will arrive within the next two hours.", one of the watchmen informed her. "What of my daughter. Has she been informed?", Rhaenys asked. "No my Lady. Her guards informed me, that she did not want to be disturbed." "Go back to your position." "Princess.", he bowed and left the office.

Her head falling into her hands she breathed in deeply. What was she supposed to do. Burning a ship from Oldtown would mean resisting the King's decree. Yesterday the announcement of Prince Daemon's annulled marriage was sent throughout the realm. By now even Dorne most likely heard about it. Laena's reputation was shattered beyond repair. A mighty roar made her stand up and run to the window. There on the beach hundred of yards away was Vhagar. Her favourite sleeping place. Normally at this time of the day she would be sleeping peacefully. But right now she was about to take flight. And the only one she would take upon her back was Laena. Her daughter had sneaked out of the castle and went to Vhagar. Only the gods knew what her foolish child planned to do.

Of course the lady of Driftmark could not have known, that her own gods had driven her daughter more and more towards madness in the past month. While her physical condition improved, her mental one declined greatly. All of Driftmarks Maesters and servants thought it was because of the pain of losing her child and being away from her other child. Many weren't happy that the Princess Rhaenyra took the lady's only surviving child away to Dragonstone. Others knew it was for the better, because Lady Laena had neglected her own child. Something that angered the Fourteen Flames greatly. The Velaryon over all had turned their backs on them. Even though their Lord prided himself with being a descendant from Valyria. He discarded his ancestry because of his desire to see his legacy surpass that of House Targaryen.

The Fourteen Flames were angry with the Velaryon as well as the Celtigars. The Velaryon became a mighty House through them, granting them dominion and luck in seafare. But instead of continuing tradition to worship them, they begann to worship the Merling King more often and barely to them any more, similar to the Greyjoys who worshipped the drowned god. A disgrace many of the Flames thought, only few cautioned their fellow gods at striking against a Valyrian House. Their chosen champions would need the might and wealth of Driftmark in the future. The Celtigars were even worse. They entirely stopped worshipping them. Choosing to worship the Seven who are one. At least the Velaryon still had their Valyrian silver locks. And most of them had violet or blue eyes. On the other hand house Celtigar's barely had any more silver white haired individuals. Dark blonds were more common among them. And they had entirely lost their purple or violet eyes. And their Valyrian features. The beauty in facial feature Valyrian blood produced was gone.

Only House Targaryen still worshipped them. But even their faith was beginning to waver. King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne had given power to the Faith, weakening their own religion. Their children were married off to great Houses, further weakening their blood. Only three of the thirteen children worshipped them. Prince Aemon, Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa. They had high hopes for them, but the Seven who are one intervened with fate and killed all three. The Valyrian gods had to watch their favoured Targaryens perish one after another.

Aemon's daughter carried on to marry one of the Velaryon and neglected to teach her children the values her father had taught her. The importance of family. They had decided to send a warning, like they did with Daenys hundreds of years ago, to the King, because of his interest in Valyria's infrastructure and its history. A grave mistake that could and would lead to their champion's destruction if they did not intervene.

At the beginning they had not wanted to take action, they had accepted that no one could save their beloved followers, because they did not want to be saved. The king remained blind and turned on his blood, listening to the whispers of a schemer. Viserys Targaryen would not be of any use to them, he was one of the reasons they lost so much power. The more followers they lost the more their power declined. But then Prince Daemon was their last chance, he and a tiny unborn child, that either could restore her family's back to greatness or be its certain doom. Rhaenyra Targaryen was watched by them from the day of her birth. Many debates among the Fourteen gods later they decided to grant her a chance. Letting her egg hatch. She would have to find her own way to them and choose for herself to worship them. Only then they could help her and Daemon.

For years. they watched on as she grew and learned more but was forced down by her own father and her Andal stepmother. However, she did not disappoint them. She prayed in front of Balerion's skull, for her mother, her siblings for her father. When her mother died, many of the gods cried with her. But their last hope did not crumble, she grew stronger and more determined, until her uncle hurt her enough from her to grow unsure. Daemon Targaryen was a mystery even to his own gods. A destructive, ruthless and cruel man, at the same time deeply loyal to his family. Someone who felt love deeper than no other. But like so many Valyrian he had problems expressing himself. Something that sabotaged their chances of success.

Now Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen were finally reunited, and the Fourteen Flames would not let anything get in between them again. So their resolve was clear, they would get Laena and Laenor Velaryon out of the way. Their champions prayed to them more often since the twins dragons hatched. Once they feared even those two would lose their faith, but it came back stronger than before. Living on Dragonstone, singend of in Kingslanding certainly helped a great deal. The ancient magic was strong on Dragonstone, an advantage they would learn to use.

The Fourteen Flames watched on as Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon ran out of the castle. Ordering for Meleys to be saddled. Yet her efforts would be in vain. She would never catch up to her daughter in time. Meleys was fast but Vhagar was larger and could cover distances in less time. Laena Velaryon had mounted Vhagar and urged her dragon into the skies. The old she-dragon slowly rose higher and higher. But Laena did not stir her mount away to flee Westeros, no first she flew towards the ship that would seal her fate. She would show all of Westeros who the rider of Vhagar the largest living dragons truly was. She would not allow a dragonless king, who spurned her for his whore, to dictate her future. Neither would his brother, the man who ruined her life. He had shattered her reputation and sentenced her to a life of shame with the Silent Sisters.

Laena had thought abut how to escape her sentence this past moon, thought about asking Vhagar for a dragon riders death. No that would not do, first she would make those pay who made her life miserable. Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen most of all. Voices whispered to her in the past moon, voiced who drove her to seek her revenge. She never questioned it, believing the gods to be finally on her side for once. If only she knew. The Fourteen Flames were indeed whispering inside her ear, but not because they were seeking to help her. They were seeking her destruction.

The ships crew stared in horror when the massive dragon came nearer and nearer. Panicking to somehow escape their fate. They knew it weren't good intentions that made the rider of Vhagar fly towards them. The men were running around frantically, trying to turn the ship, to flee. Soon Vhagar reached them and the last thing they heard were the roars of a furious dragon and a determined cry of "Drakarys!". Vhagar’s flames engulfed the whole ship, within second everything with lighting up in flames, burning the ship and the people on board. Screaming for mercy and crying out men went overboard to try to snuff out the flames. Nothing could save them, the anger of a scorned woman, driven to near madness by the gods she had never prayed to, sealed their fate. Only a few days later the entire realm knew of the horrible deeds done by Laena Velaryon.

Burning a ship with righteous men and afterwards fleeing Westeros. The King and the citadel were equally angered, ships were sent out to find the lady to bring her to justice. But a dragon was much faster than any ship. No one could catch up to Vhagar and her rider, not even her own mother who pleaded with the king to let her search for her daughter and bring her home. The King of course denied his cousins request, declaring her daughter as dangerous and exiled her from Westeros. Otherwise, he did nothing, not even when his Queen and Hand begged him to search further for the lady and fulfil her original sentence. Of course, they had motives, with Laena gone Vhagar was also gone, a dragon that would be a great asset to their cause. Thinking one of their princes could claim the she-dragon while Laena was a Silent Sister. Their request was denied, and they began to slowly fell out of the Kings favour. House Velaryon suffered the first of two losses. Lady Laena may not be dead, but she was lost to her House, driven out of Westeros to never be welcomed back ever again.

Stepstones

For the first time since the war started the Velaryon war camp was deathly silent. Lord Corlys Velaryon sat in his tent reading his wife’s letter, his son standing behind reading over his shoulder. Corlys blank face grew white with each word he read, Laenor had to grab the chair to stop himself from collapsing. Disbelief was written all over their faces. “That cannot be true.”, the heir to Driftmark breathed. “Laena would never.” His father wasn’t listening to his rant. Reading the words over and over again, hoping they would change. At first, he had been elated at receiving a letter from his wife, like every time a raven landed in this wasteland of islands. He had hoped she would stop asking him to do something against Laena’s sentence. Despite that he never would have believed a letter like this would reach him. His daughter must have gone mad. He knew the birth and her divorce hurt her greatly, but his daughter would not have done something so reckless. If only she had fled Westeros right away instead of burning down a ship with messengers and men ordered by the King to escort her to Oldtown.

She had not only offended the King and resisted his decree, she also killed dozens of innocent men. Afterwards she flew off towards the horizon. Only the gods knew where she went and if he would ever see his daughter again. Viserys had all but banished and exiled her from Westeros. If Laena returned she would die for the crime of killing innocent men. If she didn’t return she would be safe. Corlys hoped he read his wife’s word wrong the first time, but after reading the letter over a dozen of tines there was no mistaking it. His daughter was all but lost to him.

“Father! Say something!”, Laenor exclaimed. The young man was walking up and down inside the tent. “What can I say Laenor?! Your sister committed a grave crime. She murdered innocent men. She has lost her mind. The whole realm knows by now. The King banished her from Westeros.”, he answered his son after a long pause of silence. “Then do something against it.”, his son demanded. “I can’t.” “Yes you can. You are Corlys Velaryon. If you could send a request to the King…”, he tried, but was cut off by the Old Sea Snake. “There is nothing I can do for your sister now Laenor. She chose her own fate. I cannot request mercy from Viserys. He did not grant me help for this war effort, he will never pardon her after what she has done. Who knows what else she is capable of doing.”

“She is your daughter, you and mother know her better than anyone.”, Laenor huffed. “I thought that to son, obviously I was wrong.” “We cannot let her fly alone around the world. She has never truly been alone.”, his son protested. “Your sister made her choice Laenor. Accept it. We have to focus on the important things right now.”, he chose the wrong words to try to calm his heir down. “How can you be so heartless father?! She is your daughter! Laena is missing, she could be flying towards enemy territory. She could die.”, Ser Laenor was angry. Angry at his father for deciding the disappearance of his daughter was less significant than a war he started.

He could practically see his dear sister in front of his inner eye. All sort of things could happen to her. Lena was all alone, she had no allies and no friends in the other kingdoms. Up until now she had either lived with allies of their father or friend of Daemon. None of which would give her shelter now. Aside from Vhagar she had no one to protect her. Even her dragon would not keep all enemies at bay. Enemies their father had plenty. Dorne was rumoured to support the two commanders they were fighting against. If they had already lent them scorpions, if only the plans how to build them, was not clear. But a lucky shot was enough to kill a dragon and its rider in the past. He feared his elder sister would suffer the same fate as their ancestor Queen Rhaenys. Every dragon riding Targaryen avoided the skies of Dorne out of fear to be attacked. The only one brave enough to fly near Dorne, was Daemon, but his former good-brother was a little insane anyway.

“Rhaenyra could convince her father.” “Not even your wife could persuade her father from sparing your sister. And why would she do it? Because you asked?”, his father scoffed. It was a low blow, but a thirty Laenor had not wanted to consider. In the past months he and his wife had drifted apart even further than they already had been. He was a horrible man for making her suffer through this marriage. She and their sons were suffering for his mistakes.

After what happened in Driftmark she would never consider helping Laena out of her situation. She had absolutely no reason too. Truthfully Laenor had thought about speaking with Laena, together they could have left Westeros. A kingdom that had nothing but pain in store for both of them. Except he had sworn to become a better father for his boys. He owned that much to their mother and to his twins as well. While Rhaenyra endured the sneers and insults on his behalf, he made everything worse than before.

Laenor knew he should prioritize his family, but Laena was his sister. His flesh and blood who was possibly in danger, because of her own foolishness and recklessness. He was able to guess what made her angry enough to go so far as to burn a whole ship. The whole realm knew about Daemon’s and his sister’s divorce a week ago, now all of Westeros knew about the burned ship from Oldtown. He was sure his mother had tried to follow Laena and catch up to his sister. As fast as Meleys may be, she was still significantly smaller than Vhagar.

With her great wingspan she could travel farther distances. Meleys was likely too far behind her to catch Laena. Vhagar was slower to be exhausted than Meleys, so his mother had to give up and fly back to Driftmark. Where she immediately sent a raven to inform her husband and son of Laena’s departure.

The past moon, they had not made any progress on the Stepstones. Their enemies evading their attacks and further decreasing their armies numbers. Unlike the Velaryon they did not seem to run out of funds any time soon. Whoever was financing them had more gold than House Velaryon. A feat in itself, because his father’s voyages had left their covers full. However, they were slowly becoming thinner by the day. He did not know how much longer their men could keep fighting. Their morals were low, food was getting low as well and his uncle Vaemond’s comments were not helping either. Laenor was fearing mutiny.

Last time they had Daemon and his fearsome reputation to keep their soldiers in line. The Targaryen prince inspired loyalty and courage in others. Without him this war was nearly impossible to win. Besides the same trick would not work twice. The two pirate commanders were smarter than the Crabfeeder had been. But even they could be lured out. Leaving out the possibility of Daemon joining this war effort, there was nothing that they could want. Except for his father’s death, not that he would ever suggest anything like being the bait for their enemies to his father.

“If you do not want to help her, then I will!”, Laenor hissed. The Fourteen Flames watched on as Corlys Velaryon and his son fought with each other. While they admired Laenor for the loyalty to his sister, they were disappointed he did not how such loyalty to his sons, who were just as much his flesh and blood as Laena. If they could achieve their goal without him having to perish, they would try, but his death would have to take place. Rather sooner than later. Nightmares had plaqued the young man for weeks now, a warning he did not understand.

The fight between father and son went on and on, until they were interrupted by Vaemond Velaryon. “What do you want Vaemond?”, Corlys snapped at his brother. “The Triarchy’s forces are moving again. They are preparing to attack.” “Those bastards.”, Corlys growled. “Laenor on Seasmoke, attack from above. We will finish this conversation later.”, he did not look back at his son, how could he have known, that he would part with his son while they were at odds with each other.

Laenor seethed, but obeyed nonetheless. He ran towards the cliffs where Seasmoke was resting after their last flight. “Come boy. We have to fight once more. And then we will search for my sister. I promise you, we will no longer partake in this war after this battle.”, he leaned his head against his dragons scales, stroking them softly. The silver-grey dragon cooed lightly and layer down, to make it easier for his rider to mount him.

While dragons were creatures of the Fourteen Flames, they could not control them, similar to how they could not control the Valyrian. Only guiding them was within their abilities. A dragon's loyalty was solely to its rider. So Seasmoke took flight with his rider once again. Falling down the cliff before opening his wings and razing towards the attacking ships. “Fly high Seasmoke.”, Laenor commanded. Above the Triarchy ships, Laenor tried to make out which one belonged to the commanders. Defeating them was essential to defeat the rest of the Triarchy.

When he finally spotted the commanders ship, or what looked like one, he instantly commanded Seasmoke to attack. “Down Seasmoke. Drakarys!”, he cried out. The dragon folded his wings and shot towards the ships. Unknown to Dagon and rider a dozen new ships appeared behind the Triarchy. Hailing the Dornish flags of House Martell. Armed with deadly weapons, known to kill a dragon. Scorpions. Each ship had at least one on decal. All of them loaded and ready to strike.

While Laenor was busy with burning the Triarchy ships and the pirates alive, Lord Corlys came to realize that this attack was a trap. A trap he led his son and men directly into. Immediately rescaling his men and shouting commands to get away from the enemy fleet. He could save his men and other relatives, but he had no way of warning his son.

And so Corlys had to witness the carefully lauded trap snapping shut. The Trairchy’s commanders had been the bait. One of the Martell warships let lose the first bolt, it narrowly missed Laenor. Who saw the true enemy too late. If he had been thinking rationally he would have commanded Seasmoke to fly high and flee, but his reaction was delayed a second. A second that cost him his life, just like his grandfather all these years ago in Tarth. Bolt after bolt was let loos. One shot through Seasmokes wing, damaging it severely. Additionally hundred of arrows were raining down on them. Seasmoke was struggling to stay in the air, trying with all his might to save his rider from falling. But another shot struck him in the chest. A shrill pained roar filled the air, together with another scream of pain.

No longer able to stay in the air, Seasmoke went crashing towards the waves. Corlys had to help self watch his son struggling to hold onto the saddle, while the wounded dragons tried to fall in a way, that would not hurt his rider. But the dragons efforts would prove to be in vain when a stray arrow found its mark. It struck Laenor in the throat.

Together dragon and rider crashed into the sea, Laenor sliding from the saddle, in his haste he had forgotten to fasten his riding chains. Only one chain still connected him to the saddle. The water around the place where they crashed was dyed red, from both their blood. Silence reigned on the battlefield after that. The Triarchy forces and the Martell warships retreated after Seasmoke and Laenor were swallowed by the Sea.

The Velaryon ships searched for their fallen heir, Corlys most of all. With the last of his strength the Seasmoke broke through the water surface. Franticly trying to take flight again. But his injured wing and the blood loss prevented him from such. With great difficulty the Velaryon soldiers managed to lift the silver-grey dragon onto one of their ships. Transporting both the fallen dragon and its rider to the nearest beach.

Even though he knew of the dangers of going near an injured dragon, Lord Corlys did not care. Desperate he snapped the last chain that connected his son to the saddle and cradled Laenor in his arms. The dull, lifeless purple eyes, so similar to those of his wife, of his son would forever haunt him. The arrow still stuck in his neck, his blood still flowing, Laenor died a noble death. Like a true Velaryon. In battle and in the Sea. No one knew whose screams were louder on that day, Seasmokes’ or Lord Corlys’.

Chapter Text

While the Velaryon's had to mourn the loss of both their children, the Targaryens of Dragonstone had yet to be informed of what had occurred. At least Rhaenyra had. Since the day her sons eggs hatched she was busy with paperwork and watching over her children. While at the same time caring for four little dragon hatchlings. Tessarion and Baelon's little hatchling were good-natured and sweet things. Always either curled around her neck or around Baelon's body or sleeping inside the burning hearth of the nursery or her chambers. Sunfyre and Aerion's hatchling were much louder and demanding. Always chirping at each other and hissing at everyone except Daemon, her children and her.

At first, she was worried about Dayana. Thought about putting her into a different room for her safety, but surprisingly the hatchlings either ignored her foster daughter or nuzzled her with similar affection they did with her twins. A relief in her opinion. Though Daemon had the opinion the hatchlings behaved that way because they etched Rhaenyra and her boys interact with her. She would never be a dragonrider, that much was clear. Her great-grandfather had refused to allow most of his children to claim dragons because they would eventually marry outside their family. Weakening their blood and spreading it to thin. Children from those unions outside their own house could be able to claim dragons. A right only Targaryen by blood and name should have. Thus, she did not understand why the Old King had allowed Rhaenys and her children dragons. When he even would have denied her that chance if not for Daemon's intervention.

Currently, the Crown Princess was sitting inside the nursery, done with her duties for the morning. She was busy with feeding Dayana and her boys. Aerion and Baelon no longer just needed her milk, instead they had slowly started eating other things. The midwife Daemon had found for her on Dragonstone, to answer questions the Maesters in Kingspanding had not wanted to answer. Babes could drink milk if required until their second nameday. When they reached six months babes usually needed not simply only milk, but also other food. Not that much but a bit. So she asked the cooks every day to prepare food for babes additionally to her and Daemons meals.

A knock made her look up. A second later the door opened and Daemon went inside. "Little dragon.", he fretted and kissed her forehead, ruffling her twins hair. He ignored Dayana as usual, though he had warmed up to her a bit in the last few weeks. "News from Driftmark and the Stepstones.", he informed her, his High Valyrian as always soothing her nerves. "What news?", she asked a bit worried. They had not heard back from either the Stepstones or Driftmark. Only her father had written a reply.

"Laena has gone mad." His common as beautiful as his High Valyrian. "What?! Uncle what are you saying?", Rhaenyra asked confused. "She took Vhagar and burned the ship that was supposed to transport her to Oldtown. Afterwards she flew off. No own knows exactly where but your father banished her from Westeros.", he explained, gleefully in his joy of being free of Laena. Rhaenyra should be happy for her uncle she knew, he was free to do as he pleased now, no one bound him any longer. He could go wherever he wanted. He could leave her now that he has what he wanted most. An annulment. His first marriage was never dissolved, because her father had sought to control her uncle. Sought to imprison him with the chains of a marriage to Rhea Royce. In his second marriage he was similar trapped. The Sea Snake a powerful man who would not stand for his daughter to be dishonoured.

"I cannot believe that girl was so stupid to do something like that.", Daemon continued on. His niece was only half listening to him. Of course, she was happy that her uncle was happy, at the sam e time however she felt sorrow and worry about her cousin. Laena never really treated her friendly, but her cousin's life was practically destroyed. Her reputation in pieces, her son dead and her daughter fostered here in Dragonstone. She would have been shamed in Oldtown for her annulled marriage and the fact she gave birth to bastards. The Crown Princess couldn't imagine Oldtown to be a welcoming place for Targaryens. Thinking of the two Targaryen's trapped in Oldtown, it would have been three if Laena stayed, made her sad. Her great-uncle Vaemond's and her great-aunt or cousin?, Rhaella. One a Septa in the Starry Sept, the other an Archmaester in the citadel.

Daemon and she had discussed their two relatives in length. The possibility of asking them to come to Dragonstone. A Targaryen should not be left alone in the world, better now than never. Vaegon and Rhaella had been forgotten by their kin for to long. She pitied them, Laena as well. Her cousin had killed men sent by the Kings decree and thus was banished. Her home would forever be unavailable for her now. She hoped Laena and Vhagar found peace with each other wherever they may be headed.

"Daemon enough. You can celebrate your victory later. It is sad to hear what has become of our cousin.", she scolded him lightly. "Apologies niece. I will contain my joy.", he promised, Boeing his head. "Any other news? From the Stepstones perhaps?", she asked curiously. Slowly caressing Dayana's head, setting her down into her crib. Instantly her uncle expression darkened and became serious. "No good news, little dragon. The Triarchy seems to be winning. They have ensured Dorne's support somehow." The princess paled at hearing that. Rumours had circulated of such an alliance, but she thought Dorne still had the last war against the Targaryens in mind. Her grandfather, great-uncle, and great-grandfather had burned hundreds if not thousand of Dornish men. The war had ended before it truly started. Nevertheless, she was aware that this time the Triarchy was only up against one dragon and Seasmoke wasn't that old either. He was younger than Syrax, even a bit smaller.

One dragon against a large army would not have been a problem, if the dragon had been Vhagar. Though even Vhagar would have difficulties against scorpions. The same weapons that brought down the great silver she-dragon Meraxes. And the only ones, who knew how to build such weapons were the Dornish. "Have the Dornish brought scorpions with their ships as well?", she asked worry filling her. True Laenor had disappointed her a lot in the past years, but he was still her cousin, her childhood friend, and she did not wish for him to die. She did not wish the agony of death upon anyone, except maybe Otto Hightower and his lackeys, the Maesters, who failed to save her Lady mother.

"Indeed they have. All ships they sent are equipped with scorpions.", he said, confirming her fear. "I hope the bad news are, that the Velaryon have lost the war, given up on their conquest and are returning home.", she answered. Daemon's expression grew serious, his hands clenched tightly. "Uncle, what is it? What are the bad news?", fear sealed into every pore of her body. She prayed to all the Fourteen Flames that he would not say, what she thought he would.

Said Fourteen Gods were watching the two Targaryens with slightly guilty and pained expressions. Not all of them of course. Balerion and Arrax, as well as Caraxes, Vermithor and Vhagar did not feel guilty in the slightest. The Velaryon boy was in the way of their pans, thus he had to be removed. Other gods like Aegarax, Vermax and Gaelithox watched on with indifference. But the goddesses under the Fourteen Flames, namely Meraxes, Meleys, Syrax, Tessarion, Tyraxes and Shrykos were pained to deprive their chosen champion of another loved family member. But she needed her twin flame, a true dragonlord a Targrayen man by her side, not a man of the sea. Fire and the sea did not go well with each other.

Being exact opposites of each other, they only made matters worse. They snuffed each other out. But one fire fuelled another, making it stronger more resilient. Daemon and Rhaenyra ha been made for each other. Since Daemon's birth the Fourteen gods had known who in his immediate family would be his twin flame, the other part of his soul besides Caraxes. True he had a connection with his deceased aunt Gael Targaryen, but thanks to Queen Alysanne the poor dirt could never truly grow into her fire. Resulting in a meek girl, not fit to stabilize Daemon's raging fire.

Like their dragons Caraxes and Syrax, the two Targaryens were one half of the same coin. Perfect for each other, filling the gaps the other possessed. The Fourteen had long since not been strong enough to intervene, otherwise they would have saved many of their beloved Targaryens, but weaken through the lacking faith and the influence of the other gods in this world, they could not do anything. Until Rhaenyra rediscovered her faith, after the birth of her twins. The Fourteen had heard her pleas while the Crown Princess was in labour. To Meleys, for a healthy babe, to Tessarion for no complications, to Balerion to not take her child like he had taken so many of her siblings.

The gods rejoiced when the twins were born to Princess Rhaenyra, two boys, the first two of many children. The beginning of a legacy. Still they had to test the Targaryen princess's faith in them. Therefore, they stilled the boys after her deceased mother and grandfather, but with the black and brown hair of their Arryn and Baratheon ancestry. A hair colour that would fade with age.

"I am sorry Rhaenyra. The Velaryon have all but lost the war, Laenor is...", the Prince trailed of, it pained him to have to deliver the news to Rhaenyra. Before he had been gleeful to be free of his rival, of a burden his niece had carried long enough. On the other hand, he knew how much she loved her family, his death would make her distraught.

"Do not say it Daemon. Don't you dare.", she whispered, her voice trembling. Laenor could not be dead. She would see him again soon, coming back from a lost war, flying to Dragonstone to negotiate with her. Her mind knew her heart was wrong. It knew Daemon's words before he could speak them. Her cousin, her husband, the father of her boys would not come back to them. He had left them all alone in this cruel world.

"Your husband died a heroic death. Upon his dragon after being struck by an arrow in his throat. His dragon fell with him after being injured by a scorpion bolt. He died in the water like a Velaryon and upon his dragon like a Targaryen." A long silence followed Daemon's words. Only broken by the cries of the twins, having noticed that their mother was upset. Cooing softly and shushing them Rhaenyra leaned above their crib, her tears silently flowing over her face, falling down upon the twins. "What of their bodies?", she finally found the courage to asked, after the children settled into a light sleep.

"Seasmoke managed to live and break through the surface. One of Corlys ships brought him and Laenor to the nearest beach. There was nothing any Maester or healer could have done for Laenor. He either died because of the amount of blood he lost or because he drowned. His corpse is still in the Stepstones. Seasmoke has not stopped wailing and roaring since his rider's death. His wounds are major, he could succumb to them. But he is still alive." "I...I see.", Rhaenyra breathed out. It was not a rare thing for a dragon to live longer than their first rider. It was certainly painful to lose a rider, so young at that. Back then, when Vhagar had lost her grandfather she had wailed for hours, for days and then left in the darkest night. Not to be seen for many years.

Dragons could have many riders, but losing one was still painful, and it took time to overcome loss. Something Targaryens and dragons had in common. Both human and dragon needed time to overcome the loss of an important person. It took years, sometimes a lifetime for the wound to finally scare and slowly fade away. For her, her others and siblings deaths would always be a painful experience, a wound that would not close for many years. Same for Daemon when he lost his mother as a young boy and when he lost his father in his early adult years.

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence after that. Rhaenyra was watching the sleeping children and hatchlings, while Daemon watched Rhaenyra. Waiting for her to collapse out of grieve. Grieve Laenor did not deserve, but the Prince would not comment on it. Not yet. Not when his beloved lost another family member. "How will we retaliate?", she questioned after a long time. The candles in the room had gone out, the children now in a deep sleep, soothed by reassurances of their mother. They had no idea their father and uncle would never return to them, not that they had truly known him at all. These children knew nothing of losing someone and Daemon would fight until death to keep it that way.

"Pardon?", the dragon prince blinked in surprise, looking down onto his beloved niece. Had he imagined her question? "What will we do to avenge Laenor's death?", this time Rhaneyra chose her words more carefully, to make Daemon understand her intentions. "You want retribution? For him?" He crocked his head, his pride was a bit hurt, his love would be seeking vengeance for another man's death. "For a fellow dragonrider and a family member, Daemon. Not for my husband. I knew Laenor was lost to me the moment I accepted you back into my life. The moment he picked his father over our sons.", she explained. And Daemon laughed, delighted by her expression of determination and the need for vengeance. Dragon blood, however thin it may have been, was spilled. A crime no member of House Targaryen could forgive.

"My father will not send reinforcement to the Stepstones. He will do nothing, even if he is informed of Laneor's death. Like always he will not want more conflict, he did not agree with this war in the first place. It falls to us, to seek vengeance for a fallen dragon. The Dornish have forgotten to fear us and what it means to attack another dragon while others still live. If we do not do something, then nobody will. I doubt Lord Corlys has the numbers or the mind to do something now. He has been defeated, but you and me Daemon, we can still turn the tables."

Daemon smiled, a bloodthirsty smile, one that was returned similarly by his niece. Both dragons had smelled blood, and they were out for revenge. One of their own brutally murdered, by enemies who should have learned their lesson years ago. It was time to remedy the realm of the power Targaryens possessed. The realm may whisper of retribution for a grieving wife, but Daemon knew it wasn't. It would be a sign of power, dominance, and strength. Smashing the Triarchy and their Dornish allies would make a statement to all of Westeros. Especially to the greens.

"Then let's start planning, little dragon. We would not want to end up like Laenor.", the Rouge Prince chuckled and bowed his head. Assisting his niece in standing up from her seat and guiding her out of the room. They had an attack to plan. Wars were not won with brute strength alone, a clever strategy as often much more worth than numbers. To avoid injuries or any other damage they would have to plan carefully. After all they did not want to suffer the same fate as their cousin.

The Crown Princess knew her statement was bold, if any other man than Daemon had heard her, they would have laughed and dismissed her. Truthfully she had not learned anything about the art of war or battle. But she refused to be seen as a mere weak woman. She wanted to show the realm what she was capable of and that sh would fight for her birthright if necessary. For to long she had ducked her head, that would have to end. She would never be a great warrior, not like her ancestor and role mode Visenya.  She could learn to be a decent fighter.

A sheltered princess she would no longer be, her old self would burn and from the ashes the Princess of Dragonstone would rise. For the first time since years, she was truly determined and sure of one thing. She would not shriek back from bloodshed and the horrors of war. With Daemon by her side, she would win, both the War of the Stepstones and the war over her inheritance. But first she had to prove she was capable of leading and being courageous enough to fight in a real battle. Proudly smiling the gods looked down when Daemon let their champion to the chamber in which the three conquerors planned their conquest.

Syrax, the goddess Rhaenyra had named her she-dragon after, shared a proud smile with her lover Caraxes, the deity Daemon's dragon was named after. It seemed to be fate, that both the gods and dragons, as well as their riders were lovers and partners for live. All the Fourteen who had dragons named after them were immensely proud of them, no matter if they were still hatchlings, already grown or had died in battle. To be remembered as the namesake of their creations was a delight for them. Finally, their champion was showing the world her fangs and claws. No longer a docile dragon, who held back out of love and lingering respect. No Rhaenyra Targaryen was on the best way to finally become what she was always destined to be. A true dragon, unafraid of showing her true self. A Queen, that one day would sit the Iron throne and save her dynasty. Finally, she stopped holding back. They could not wait for the chaos she would unleash.

Chamber of the Painted Table (Dragonstone)

Daemon had guided his niece towards the Chamber of the Painted Table and helped her sit down on the chair at the head of the table, in front of the burning hearth. Then he had summoned Maester Gerardys, Rhaenyra's favourite Lady-in-waiting Elinda Massey, and her new sworn shield Ser Erryk, who had arrived weeks ago with Rhaenyra's Ladies-in-waiting. He had no doubt about the loyalty of these three. The rest he doubted and would investigate further. His first action, upon arriving on Dragonstone had been finding out the obvious spies, planted by Otto. He had killed at least a dozen people. Not publicly, but he let them vanish, never to be seen again.

"Your Highness, you have summoned use urgently?", Maester Gerardys, the only Maester Daemon truly trusted. He knew of Gerardys knowledge and his methods, so different from the Maesters he had known before him. Thanks to him, he had not lost any movement of his shoulder. After being hit by a flaming arrow, that burned the flesh in his shoulder and partly fussed his armor to his body, he should have lost movement in his shoulder. But thanks to the care of Gerardys on Dragonstone, after the war, the worst had been avoided. Most of his shoulder movement was saved. The rest he had worked hard to earn back. Months of hard training and discipline.

If he had not shown the Maester the burn, it would have likely infected itself again. Which had happened quite often while he was still being treated in the Stepstones. The Maester Corlys had brought with him and the few half trained helpers were not trained for such an arrow wound. And they did not have enough experience. They may have done their best, but the situation in the Stepstones had not made it easy for anyone. The dirt in the tents, the sandy air was the cause of many infected wounds. Back then he had been in pain constantly, but had also learned to quickly ignore and live with the pain and discomfort. Even while fighting against his enemies.

Originally he had not wanted to return there, but Rhaenyra wanted revenge and to remind the Martell who they were up against. But they had to act fast or the Velaryon would have barely any forces left. Corlys would be devastated by Laenor's death and incapable of leading his men. His younger brother, Vaemond Velaryon was and incompetent fool, who thought himself above everyone else.

"Yes. We have indeed. I wish to entrust you with an important task.", his niece answered, straightening her back, her posture as perfect as always. When she was with people besides him and her children she always wore a mask of confidence, regal authority and calmness. A perfect Crown princess, ready for another battle at court. At least with him, she could relax a little.

"Ser Erryk, you have guarded me these past years faithfully. I wish for you to be my sons ad wards protector until Daemon and I are back. It will not take long, however my heart would be soothed knowing a Kingsguard watches over the children in my absence.", the princess addressed the White Cloak. "Of course. As you command my princess.", he bowed his head. "Elinda, I am aware you have a younger sibling. So I wish for you to care for the three as if they were your younger siblings. We won't be gone for long, but I would feel better knowing they are in your hands.", her attention turned towards her youngest Lady-in waiting, the only one of her four that was not related to her by any kind of blood relation. "It would be an honour your grace.", the young girl answered, after all four nameday younger than herself. "Rowena, Alena and Alys will of course help you, but you shall be their primary caretaker." The fourteen nameday old girl nodded eagerly.

Rhaenyra did not wish to burden the young girl with this task, but her other three ladies-in-waiting did not have siblings. Alena was an only child, Alys and Rowena were cousins, aunt Elys and Aunt Amanda's daughter's, both the youngest children. "Maester Gerardys, I would ask you to read all letters addressed to me and answer them as well. Should anything occur, send your fastest raven to the Stepstones.", she instructed. "As you command Crown Princess.", the Maester bowed his head. "That would be all. Daemon and I shall depart in three days. You are dismissed."

All three bowed and left the room. Only the candles lightening up the table kept the two Targaryens company. Standing up, Rhaenyra gazed into the burning flames of the hearth behind the chair. After a few moments she turned to her uncle.

"Do you have a plan niece?", the Rouge Prince asked, tilting his head to the side. "Before the news about Laenor I would have said, attack quickly, out of the blue and burn our enemies, but that would be reckless and idiotic. To dangerous. Laenor was a knight, a dragonrider and an arrow brought him down, just like great-uncle Aemon. Smashing the Triarchy ensures, nothing like that could happen to my sons. But I recognize the need for a proper plan, a carefully planned strategy.", she retorted.

“So uncle do you have a plan? You are after all the war hero of us both.”, she countered. “Happy to be of assistances princess.” “The Triarchy and Dorne are allies now, meaning all their ships will be equipped with scorpions. They have brought down Seasmoke, who has already experienced war before. You and Syrax have not. You aren’t battle tested and my apologies for being blunt princess, but your golden lady is even more spoilt than you. She has not hunted for herself in years and only recently started to do so, after you and Caraxes encouraged her.”, he answered. “Syrax may be young and inexperienced uncle, but she is agile and very fast.”

“That may be niece, but even that won’t save you two if the scorpions hit their mark.”, he retorted, worry filling his voice. “I have flown much with Syrax and you these past weeks uncle. I will not stand back and let you go off to the Stepstones alone. As much as it hurts to leave my children, I will not let Dorne’s crimes go unanswered.”, Rhaenyra hissed. “Peace niece, I did not mean for you to stay behind. But you must understand what you are risking. If you are injured or by the gods die in the Stepstones, the throne will go to the Hightowers.”, he soothed her agitated nerves.

“What are you suggesting uncle?”, she asked, her arms crossed under her breast, making it hard for him not to stare at her chest a little. Daemon was still a man despite being a Targaryen, even he could not look away from his niece’s gorgeous body. “I now you are eager to prove yourself to the realm, to prove yourself in a war and to have your revenge, but I would prefer it if you stay as far away from the scorpions as you possibly can.”

“How exactly would I do that?”, she questioned. “The Stepstones are islands and hard to defend, the Triarchy most likely uses the caves again. Their scorpions will be on their ships, not on land. A scorpion bolt can sink a ship and injure a dragon.” Daemon gestured towards the island that were the Stepstones on the map. “I will let you fly with me, only if you swear to me, that you will stay on Syrax at all times, until I tell you otherwise. Attack fast and fly back up, out of their range, the rest you will leave to Caraxes and me.”, he ordered. For a moment it looked like she wanted to argue, but then she sighed and nodded. “Fine, I will do as you ask.”, she  agreed.

Daemon smiled and caressed her check. It felt good that unlike his brother Rhaenyra trusted him enough to follow his request. He had seen many battles before and survived all of them, besides he would never lead her into danger willingly. He knew her better than anyone, knew she would have flown of with Syrax to ensure retribution would come for Laenor’s death.

While Viserys doubted him and his intentions, his every word, Rhaenyra was easier to convince. It helped that she could accept that he had more experience and knowledge in the art of warfare than she did. They had recently started her swordsmanship training. Rhaenyra had always been a fast learner, but normally training with swords began much earlier, she had a lot of work ahead of her. Without enough experience with a sword, there was no way he would let her on the ground. Those Triarchy savages would rip her apart if she was without Syrax’s protection.

What he loved about Rhaenyra was, that she was honest with herself. She knew she would never be excellent with the sword, with time she could become decent enough to defend herself, though it would take years for her, of that he was sure. Her true weapons were her wit, her mind and Syrax. The she-dragon would never let any harm come upon her rider.

Besides Silverwing, Syrax was the most docile dragon, Dreamfyre was more vicious than most knew, and she hated man with a passion. The pale blue dragon, who still resided in Kingslanding, was old and did not like to be disturbed. By no means did she kill as many Dragonkeepers as Caraxes. But she did kill a few. As far as he knew Syrax had only injured a few of her caretakers. Otherwise, she was one of the Dragonkeepers favourites, taking after her dame in terms of her personality. Sweet most of the time, but when it came to Rhaenyra Syrax could turn into a deadly killer within one second.

A threat to her rider would be eliminated. The spoiled golden-yellow she-dragon had always refused to hunt for herself and only after permanently locating to Dragonstone did she slowly start with searching for her own meals. Nonetheless, a dragon was still a dragon, with sharp deadly talons and claws as well as many teeth. Ripping apart humans was easy even for a young dragon like Rhaenyra’s golden lady.

Most people often forgot that and saw the dragons as pets of the Targaryens, not as equals. Dragons were a part of their rider, their connection unbreakable, unless one of them died. Dragons were dangerous beings, who hunted their prey and they could wait a long time. With Targaryens it was the same. Simple men, like the Hightowers only understood the benefit of power the possession of a dragon meant. However, a dragon was not meant to be a possession, instead they were the companions of the Targaryen family.

Dragons were devoted to two things only, their riders and their mates. Their family. Just like Targaryens. As jealous as he was over Rhaenyra’s devotion to their cousin, he knew she would do the exact same thing should Laenor’s fate have befallen him. She was after all the Blood of the dragon, devoted to her family. “Maybe we should think about making armour for our dragons, to protect them from those Dornish weapons.”, his niece mused.

“We have thought about doing so, but armour would hinder our dragon's movement. Make them slower and heavier. Steel armour would only endanger us. We also do not have time to forge any.”, he denied, shacking his head. “Who is we?” “Maester Gerardys and I have talked length about how to better protect a dragon. True their scales are armour enough against most weapons, but young dragons like your Syrax do not have scales as thick as the older ones. Their natural armour grows with them, scales harden over time.”

“You were talking about making body armour for dragons, but what would be if we just forge armour for certain vulnerable places?” Not a bad idea in theory, but now they had no time to test that theory or forge armour. They would leave in three days, in early morning. “It does sound like something we could explore. Though we should discuss the possibility once we are back.”, the prince suggested. Nodding his niece agreed. “I concur uncle, so what is your plan in detail?”, she smiled at him like Syrax. Slightly tiling her head to the side and smiling with her teeth. He returned her smile with one of his smirks.

Slightly leaning above the table he moved the figures symboling them, their dragons, their enemies, and their allies over the map. “The Triarchy and Dorne have secured most of the islands that make up the Stepstones. Corlys and his remaining men are surrounded and trapped on Bloodstone, it may be the largest island, but it is hard to defend without a proper seat and watchtowers. And the pirates know the territory much better than the Velaryons. Though they have not dared to go near Seasmoke again just yet, even with scorpions. The largest beach of Bloodstone is secured, there are several other smaller ones they can attack.”

“It sounds like they have not yet done a sneak attack?”, she wondered. “They have not, that is true. My spies have informed me, that the Triarchy and their Dornish allies have yet to use these smaller beaches for anything. Over all, they remained quiet over the past days. They are planning something and I can only guess it will be a brand attack, with all their men.”, he explained.

“Could they be waiting for us?”, Rhaenyra asked, leaning into his side comfortably. Her head on his shoulder their hair touching. “No, they could not know we plan to avenge your husband. I am certain they have no spies here. They are waiting for one of the Martell’s I would assume.” “One of the Martells, are they really so bold as to send one of the ruling family to the Stepstones?” “I would bet a fortune, that the ruling Martell prince shows up.” “Prince Qoren Martell himself?”, Rhaenyra asked surprised lifting her head from his shoulder.

She took his hand in her own, caressing the marks years of training with his beloved sword dark Sister left behind. “He is young still, not much older than you are. He has to prove himself still. His leadership is still weak the nobles in Dorne are still not all on his side.” “Winning a war against the famous Sea Snake and killing a dragonrider will certainly make a name for him that will stick.”, she commented. “Up until now only the Ullers were known as dragon killers. Maybe the Sand Viper wants to be known as a dragon slayer too.”, he commented.

“Arrogance that will cost him.”, she murmured. “He will learn not to mess with dragons, niece. He will learn.”, his assurances made her smile. Lifting his left arm, he dropped it on her shoulders and embraced her. “Together Rhaenyra, together we will show all the might of House Targaryen. We attack fast and without alerting them beforehand. So a quiet and quick approach. No time for them to react. The moment of surprise is our most powerful weapon. We only have one chance.”

Chapter Text

Stepstones (Triarchy and Dornish camp)

Prince Qoren Martell watched as his allies slaughtered the captured Velaryon soldiers. Corlys Velaryon had fought hard and a long time. The famous SeaSnake had mustered all the ships and men he could against the Triarchy to fight against them for the third time. Only this time he did not have the support of Prince Daemon Targrayen, the Rouge Prince a famous and feared warrior.

It was because of him, that he had refused to join the Triarchy the last two times. He did not want to be burned by the Prince's dragon. Laenor Velaryon, the SeaSnakes heir had a dragon too of course. But the grey silver Seasmoke was younger than Caraxes and less able to destroy the fleet. It had become clear early on, that Prince Daemon would not join the war. His own spies and the Triarchy's spies had known enough to confirm the wedge between House Velaryon and Prince Daemon. Even though the Targaryen Prince was married to Lord Velaryon's daughter, he dread not about his good-father's struggles.

So after a few months the two commanders managed to convince him. His council at first was hesitating, but the prospect of weakening Westeros trade and defeat the SeaSnake made them agree. Which was why he was here now. Dropped in orange tunics and his ancestors armour. With his trusted spear near him and a sword strapped to his side. His closest confidant, the Sword of the Morning, Doran Dayne was at his side, the famous sword Dawn strapped to his side. Both Dornish men watched as the Velaryon men were butchered and gutted. Their throats cut, it took a long time for a few to die. Dying in such agony was surely unpleasant. While the Triarchy had lost a considerable amount of soldiers and ships, his men and ships had only suffered minor losses.

From the beginning he had planned to use a sneak attack to get rid of the greatest threats. Laenor Velaryon and his dragon. While his allies had condemned his choice, they had to complex, otherwise Dorne's riches and gold would no longer be available to finance them. His best friend had warned him not to anger their new allies, for they could become enemies as swift as they had become allies to them.

"These two commanders really seem to hate Corlys Velaryon.", Doran murmured into his ear. Both men watched as the two commanders from Lys practically tore those poor captured soldiers apart. Corlys immediate family had been lucky enough to escape, but other loyal soldiers did not have such luck. "At least they are not nailing them against wood and wait for the crabs to slowly eat them alive.", Qoren answered. "The Crabfeeder was killed by Daemon Targaryen, Corlys Velaryon barely had any hand in that. But true, his methods were more extreme than those of these two."

"What do you think will the King do once he hears of his godson's death?", Doran changed the topic, a welcomed distraction. "I am unsure. He did not seem like the type to welcome war. The Velaryon's fought without his help or approval. He will do nothing. Especially not if his council advises him against it. We killed a dragon rider and the dragon will surely succumb to his wounds soon. He would not dare to retaliate.", Qoren retorted.

King Viserys Targaryen had once offered the hand of his daughter, Crown Princess Rhaenyra to him, he had rejected the offer. Even though he had heard fascinating things about the Targaryen Princess, the feud between their family's was a problem. He did not need a wife who despised him because his ancestors had aided House Uller in killing her ancestor. And now through his involvement, her husband, and the father of her children was dead.

"King Viserys will do nothing, I think we should be more worried about what Laenor Velaryon's widow will do.", he mused. "What could she do?", his friend scoffed. Not because the princess was a woman, but because she was a mother and not trained in the arts of war. "We killed her husband, the father of her two children and a member of her family. We would be fools to think she will not seek retribution in some kind of way.", he reminded his friend.

Princess Rhaneyra Targaryen had a backbone, unlike her father the King. She would do something to retaliate, he was sure of it. Rumours circulated, that she was one of the best dragonriders since the Doom, the first to mount and fly her dragon at the tender age of seven. She was a Targaryen who lost a family member, like her ancestors Aegon and Visenya before her sought retribution for their fallen sister and wife, she would do the same for her dead cousin and husband. Despite the many rumours about her children's illegitimacy, the Velaryon heir had taken them as his own, they were his heirs, even if they should turn out to not be of his seed. But it mattered no longer, Laenor Velaryon was dead, defeated by Dorne.

Unlike her cousin the Princess would not fly to war herself, she could however send ships and men to her good-father. Corlys Velaryon remained a broken man after the death of his son, soon that feeling of loos would turn into rage. And he would once again take up command and try to kill him with all his might. The man he considered to be the murderer of his heir.

"And she has Daemon Targaryen behind her. He is her uncle and if the rumours are to be believed he will do anything she asks of him. She could have already asked him to avenge their cousin. Thousands of sells words will follow his call and with him his dragon will come. And that beast will not be as easy to shot down."

"Even if he is calling sellswords to fight, it will take weeks for them to assemble. We will have won this war by then and claimed the Stepstones for ourselves.", Doran countered. The Dornish prince remained silent at his friends remark. He could only pray to Mother Rhoynar, that the Sword of the morning was right. Otherwise, not even their gods could save them from the demon that was Daemon Targaryen.

The Rouge Prince was legendary. A merciless, ruthless warrior, who killed his enemies without a second thought. He killed first and then asked questions. The Triarchy had been defeated by him before, he could without a doubt do so again. Especially if his niece, and rumoured lover, asked him to avenge her husband. Or rather avenge their Targaryen kin. The Free Cities and Dorne had dared to shoot a dragon, a crime in the eyes of every Targaryen. Qoren could only hope that it was only the princes dragon that would come, as far as he knew, the SeaSnakes wife also had a grown dragon.

"So what's the plan?", Doran questioned breaking him out of his thoughts. The soldiers screams had ceased. All of them were dead by now. But both his own men and his allies soldiers wanted more blood. They wanted to destroy the Velaryons. But they were getting to cocky. The death of a dragonrider filled them with courage, and blind ambition. All of those would be their downfall, because none of them had reckoned with the fiery revenge of the Targaryens.

"Prepare for the attack, today is the day Corlys Velaryon will finally fall!", full of confidence and bloodlust the two commanders from Lys directed their men. While the largest beach of bloodstone was guarded through the injured dragon, the smaller beaches were left unaired or abandoned by the guards. A perfect situation for a sneak attack. Sneaking onto the last Velaryon stronghold on Bloodstone would be easy if they managed to land on the beaches without anyone noticing them. So they used the cover of the night to execute their plan.

Originally Qoren had been against such a cowardly attack, but he used a similar way to kill his enemies only son. So he did not have the right to complain. Nevertheless, a strange feeling was building itself up inside his stomach. As if something would go horribly wrong. "Doran order our captains to prepare their ships, after this attack we will set sail back home, to Dorne.", he ordered. "As you command, my Prince." They had no idea how fucked they would be in just a couple of hours.

Bloodstone (Velaryon camp)

Corlys was sure the gods were punishing him. Slowly taking away everything that meant something to him. First his family was slighted again and again, the Targaryens using the Velaryons as a footnote again and again. Then his daughter birthed bastards and sealed her fate. Going mad and fleeing Westeros determined her future. He would likely never see his darling pearl again. His dear girl ripped away from him, because he had filled her with too much confidence. No woman could trap or tame Daemon Targaryen. No woman but his own good-daughter. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, heiress to the throne, that should belong to his wife.

A dragon princess through a through, proud and fierce. Her claws finally out and no longer hidden. Corlys knew his daughter and wife would forever be her enemies. They had threatened Rhaenyra's children, Laenor's sons. His grandsons. His heirs. Despite everything he knew about his son, despite everything the greens spread about the married couple, the boys were Rhaenyra and Leanor's flesh and blood. Their only offspring.

Baelon Velaryon would have been Laenor's heir, when his son ascended the Driftwood Throne after his death. In the past months he had felt his age more often. He was past his prime and he was not getting any younger. And now in the span of only a week he had lost his daughter and his son. His wife no longer wrote him and would without a doubt be angry with him once he revealed his two sons, hidden away in Hull with their mother.

He could ask the King to legitimize his two sons with Marilda, but he would not dishonour his son's legacy like that. Baelon Velaryon would be his heir in his father's place. He would ascend the Driftwood throne after his demise. He would take his father's place. That much he owned his beloved son, who he had forced to endure an unwanted marriage. He owned it to his good-daughter to keep her youngest son as his heir. She who had agreed to an arranged marriage, to soothed his wounded pride, who endured the discomfort and gave birth to twins. Unlike his wife, he was quite sure the boys belonged to Laenor. They may not look much like his son, but his least had his curls and his youngest the same quiet and shy personality Laenor had back when he was a lad. Laena had been the loud and adventures one of his children.

And he had headed whispered of a birthmark his grandfather, Daemon Velaryon the irony!, possessed. One of the boys was supposed to have the same one. Not in the same place, but looking nearly like a replica of it. His grandfather's birthmark had looked like an island within it a crown. He knew of no one else who could claim to have such a birthmark. His good other Jocelyn also had a birthmark, smaller than his father and barely anybody knew about it, it looked like the antlers of a stag. Though it was rare for grandchildren to inherit those marks and even rarer for their children to inherit it, those marks would prove the boy's legitimacy. Laenor had joceyn's mark and one of his sons also possessed it. He would have to ask Princess Rhaenyra for confirmation. While Baelon was now technically his heir, she was still his mother and the Crown Prince. Which meant she was above him in the chain of command in Westeros. She was the third most person in the realm, once she grew into her power. Which she would with Daemon's help.

Thinking of Laenor, his beloved son hurt. His heart ached, he mourned what could have been. If only he had not been so insistent on bringing him along. He would have been safe on Dragonstone. Would have seen his sons grow up to fine men. Now that chance was stripped away from him.

Seeing the lifeless form of his son plunge into the sea, still strapped to Seasmokes saddle broke his heart. His prayer came too late, when his crew finally managed to fish both of them out of the water, his son was already gone. For hours, he had knelt on that beach, at Seasmokes side and screamed and cried while his son's dragon wailed for his dead son. Never before had he felt such a whole inside his heart. None dared to approach him. He was in mourning, sitting beside Laenor's corpse, hoping he would awake. But like Prince Aemon before, his heir would not wake. The gods had taken him into their arms already.

Balerion had indeed already taken Laenor's. Reuniting him with Ser Joffrey, the love of his life and his grandparents in the realm of the dead. All his dead family members were waiting for him and welcoming him. His only regret was not being a better father and husband. The fourteen judged him fairly and he wished his wife luck. Wished for Daemon to be the father he could never be. He knew his mother's cousin would raise Aerion and Baelon as if they were his own offspring. A fact that made Laenor grateful, he would simply have to wait to meet them in many years, once they had a fulfilled life. For now he was reunited with his love, his suffering at an end.

Deep into his cups, with his thoughts miles away Corlys Velaryon was in no state to lead his army or think about possible strategies their enemy could utilize. While his brother and closest commander fought about who should take command and the other soldiers slept in their tents, Seasmoke was laying on Bloodstones largest beach. The dragon letting out cries, mourning his rider. He was still too weak to fly away and fed on the dead fish that was left on the beach by the tides. Seasmoke would not be able to leave without help, but no one would dare to transport a fire breathing lizard onto a ship made out of wood. And he doubted any other dragons would come to help. His wife still had no idea their son was dead, still busy with grieving their runaway daughter.

Laenor's wife, Rhaenyra most likely also did not know yet, Daemon surely kept the news from her, the bastard that he was. No reinforcements would come, with Laenor's death all of them were as good as dead. Retreat was their only option, but a man's bruised pride was a dangerous thing. And his brother's pride had been bruised. Unlike many of his surviving men, who genuinely mourned his son and heir, Vaemond only cared about being beaten and nearly captured. His nephew was dead and all he could do was complain about everything and urge for another attack.

Their forces were greatly dismissed, they could not possibly attack once more. Their enemies outnumbered them ten if not twenty to one. Not counting these blasted scorpions, who could sink a ship as easily as shot down a dragon. If only they had more soldiers or could organize a sneak attack. But unlike their own defence, the Triarchy and Dorne had many guards, rotating, making it impossible for a sneak attack to succeed. Especially with so little time and manpower. With Laenor that would have been easier to achieve, his son however was dead. Taken by the gods.

Despite pitying Laenor Velaryon, none of them felt terrible about allowing his death, seeing it as a necessity, after along discussion. They had to show Corlys Velaryon, that opposing and forgetting them brought consequences. His suffering would never end, now that it had begun, he would reap what he had sowed. The vengeance for forgetting the Fourteen Flames and his origins as a Valyrian, the ambition to rise above those they had chosen as their champions. Like so many others Corlys had weakened and hurt their beloved dragon princess. Especially the goddesses of the Fourteen Flames were upset about that. In particular, Tessarion, Meraxes, Meleys and Syrax. And what upset them, also upset their lovers.

In some movements the Velaryon would find his peace, moments he would enjoy, however he would not live to see his line regaining glory, instead he would witness a time in which his family was destroyed, ripped apart. And his ambition would ultimately be his doom. Though his death was years away still. That of his most beloved people was not so far away. The first of many was his son. Maybe the mortal would learn in time not to cross the Fourteen Flames, but they cared less, they were gods and they had no mercy. Marcy was something gods only bestowed on few people.

After all they had doomed Old Valyria in their anger about its citizens. They themselves had killed their creations without mercy. Only sparing three back then low standing family's. Though both Velaryons and Celtigars had fled the lands of Valyria years before Daenys dreamed of their doom. Seeking to make a name for themselves, instead of standing in the dragons lords shadow. At first Baleron had not wanted to send Daenys the warning. Tessarion and Shrykos had begged their fellow deity's to allow them to send Daenys Targaryen a dream, a dream that would warn her and allow her to save those who listened to her. Meraxes was the first one to throw her support behind the two other goddesses. And with Meraxes, Arrax her lover followed, after a bit of persuasion. The same could be said for Syrax and Caraxes. One after one they agreed to the idea, Balerion had been the last to be convinced by Shrykos pleading. So the Targaryens were saved and build Dragonstone as it still stood today.

Screams disrupted Corlys' trail of thought. Instantly he was up on his feet, his reaching for his war hammer and storming out of his tent. He grabbed the first soldier in his path. "What the fuck is going on?", he demanded to know. "The guards on the west beach has alerted the troops Mylord. He sighted ships docking onto one of the smaller unguarded beaches.", panic was rapidly spreading inside the war camp. If he did not get the situation under controlled soon, the sneak attack those Lysenish bastards planned would be his smallest problem.

His brother was directing his soldiers already, commanding them to secure the other small beaches. "We should not weaken our defence more. Your man will stay where they are, we will defend this camp and not unimportant beaches.", Corlys raged. "Brother..", Vaemond tried, but was cut off. "I will not have you disobeying me now Vaemond. I have tolerated your behaviour long enough. Get your man to march back here.", he ordered, not caring to wait for an answer. "Strengthen the defences in the west. They will not get through. These bastards have already taken my son's life, but this last victory I will not grant them.", his men cheered, as angry and bloodthirsty as he.

The gods had seen fit to take his son from him, but the Dornish were the ones who truly killed him. And they would pay for that. Pay for the agony Laenor must have been in, in his last moments. His death would be avenged, one way or another. Even if he himself ended up dead her eon the Stepstones, he would avenge his son, because he owned Laenor that much.

From the first day of his life he had loved his son with all his might. But he knew he wasn't the best or most supportive father to him. He could never remedy that now, his chance as gone as his heir. But Qoren Martell and these fucking two Triarchy commanders would die tonight. Together with his men he strengthened the western defences, in his rage he was not thinking straight, not even considering that the guard could have been bribed or exchanged for someone else. He had not considered the ship sighting to be a distraction, to weaken the defence on another side.

When screams erupted from the southern side of the camp, Corlys knew he had just committed a grave mistake. A mistake that could cost his life. "To the south wall, hurry.", he bellowed, but it was already too late. The mass of soldiers their enemies employed had overrun their meek defence on the south side. The soldiers already running into the camp, with not doubt in search of him. As much as the two men from Lys hated Daemon, they downright loathed him. Before they had fought against him and Prince daemon in the last war, they had been minor pirates, who were a nuisance on his voyages. People from Lys never forgave a grudge, and those two pirate lords were still angry about being beaten and robbed by him.

In the tumult that was the battle he could barely distinguish his own men from his enemies. Then he saw something orange and narrowly avoided a sword splitting his head. "Doran Dayne.", he growled. The Sword of the Morning, guard ,and advisor to the Prince of Dorne, was standing right in front of him, sword drawn, already dirty from the blood of his fallen soldiers. Killing intent radiated from his form. "Corlys Velaryon.", he retorted icy. Where Dayne was, the ruling Martell Prince wasn't far. And truly meters away, looked in a fight with two of his nephews, was Qoren Martell.

Both hands on his warhammer, Corlys was ready for the possible last battle in his life. He wished he would have been honest with Rhaenys, about Addam and Alyn, he wished he could have seen Laena one more time and apologies to both of them. Just as he was about to storm into the tumult a familiar whistle like roar tore the air apart. And another unfamiliar melodic roar came afterwards. Two blurs, one red, another gold-yellow, flew above the battlefield, then the world burned.

Dragonstone (two days ago)

Wearing armour was different from wearing simple riding leathers. But Daemon had strictly forbidden her about even thinking of riding into battle with only her normal riding leathers. They may be made form stronger material and more resilient, but they would not offer her any protection in a war. Only serving to endanger her. He had ordered smiths in his service, from Volantis and Essos, to modify one of the armours he had found in a hidden chamber, years ago. The alterations served to protect her neck and throat from arrows. At first, she had no idea where in the Fourteen Flames he had found armour that fitted her. But after asking him, he revealed that a few weeks ago something had guided him to those hidden chambers and the treasures within it. He could not explain how he discovered the room, but she thanked the gods for his luck.

Because aside from one of Queen Rhaenys' and Queen Visenyas' armours and many books, he had also found armour belonging to King Aegon. The armour the first King of the Seven Kingdoms wore most of the time, was in Kingslanding. Stored away together with his sword, Blackfyre, and his crown. As Daemon had commented, over the years the three conquerors must have many armours. What surprised them the most however was, that most of these armour were either purely made out of Valyrian Steel or parts of them were forged out of the legendary material. Today none knew how to forge such steel any more, but it seemed the Conquerors somehow came into possession of multiple Valyrian armours. She had not questioned their luck, instead sending a prayer to their gods, asking them to continue upholding their favour upon Daemon and her.

Queen Visenyas' armour was too big for her, King Aegon's fitted Daemon quite well. And Queen Rhaenys' armour fitted her very well. The smiths only had to modify a few details. For example adding protecting for the neck and throat. She was less comfortable in the riding battle armour than in her riding uniform, but Daemon had reminded her of the dangers of war. They were going to fly into a war, where their enemies possessed deadly scorpions and skilled archers. So better less comfortable than dead because she wore the wrong attire in battle.

Her flexibility was also affected, unlike Daemon's. He was used to walking, fighting, and flying in armour, Rhaenrya certainly was not. It would come in time, her uncle assured her. She wasn't certain if he spoke the truth or if he wanted to cheer her up. Regardless she would have to live with it. So now she stood in front of the Dragonmont, with Daemon, her trusted Kingsguard Ser Erryk and the head dragonkeeper. It had taken a long time for her to say goodbye to her boys. Both could not understand why their mother was leaving and cried as if they knew she wouldn't be there for them for at least a week. She had only reluctantly, but with Daemon's and Maester Gerardys persuasion, taken a wet nurse into her service. Primarily for her ward Dayana, but also if her boys were hungry.

Leaving Daemon alone to deal with the Triarchy and Dorne was out of the question, so she had to leave her boys behind. For the first time she left them more than just a couple of hours. It would be a couple of days before she would return to Dragonstone. Daemon had finished speaking with the head Dragonkeeper. Had instructed him about the four hatchlings care and the care of Syrax and Caraxes eggs. As long as both dragons were away, the eggs would be kept in the warming chambers, out of fear the Cannibal would try to venture into Syrax cave and devour her eggs. Like it had done so many times before. Which left the four hatchlings. They were growing larger every day, though it would take years for them to reach maturity. Yet she did not have to worry about them bathing anyone in fire. They were much too young to produce their own flames. Not that that would take much longer. A few moons and they certainly would be able to produce a small fire of their own. Four hatchlings who could not control their fire as a danger none had experienced before. Which was why they had instructed the Dragonkeepers to leave the hatchling inside the castle for now. Guarded by four Dragonkeepers at all time, should something happen. Separating the two nameless hatchlings from her sons would be dangerous and could damage their bond. So they were to remain with the twins in their chambers.

While Tessarion and Sunfyre had not hatched for Aerion and Baelon, they were fond of the boys and when they were not in either Rhaenyra's or Daemon's chambers they were inside the nursery. Doors connected the three rooms, and she had decided to have them open all the time, to have faster access to her boys should anything occur. Since coming to Dragonstone she slept much better than she had in Kingslanding or Driftmark. Knowing her boys were safe here, protected by loyal servants and guards as well as her beloved uncle.

"You can now return to my sons Ser Erryk. I will not need a guard here.", she said. The Kingsguard hesitated a bit, not because he wanted to disobey her command, like two of his sworn brothers, who were firmly on the Greens side, but because he was worried about his charge. "My niece is perfectly safe with me here. I am capable of defending her life. And we are on Dragonstone still. None here will dare to harm the Crown Princess.", Daemon said, staring the Kingsguard down. True, none of Dragonstone's residents would seek harm upon her, not any more. Her uncle had removed all who were spies from Otto or secret supporters of the Greens.

"Of course Prince Daemon. My princess.", Ser Erryk bowed his head and left them alone, to go to his temporarily new charges. The head Dragonkeeper asked them if he and others of his order should guide the dragons out of their caves. Rhaenyra declined, she would not risk the Dragonkeepers lives. Because both Syrax and especially Caraxes were rather protective of their eggs. In Caraxes case of his mate and eggs. "We shall call and saddle them on our own. Thank you for your service. But your responsibility lies with my son's hatchlings and with Tessarion and Sunfyre.", she declined and waved him away. Bowing to the two Targaryens the head dragonkeeper left them alone.

Yesterday they had talked about which saddle they would use during the battle. Most Dragonriders usually had up to three different saddles. One for ceremonial use, for example weddings or other events of the royal family, by far the heaviest. With but one chain to secure the rider in it. The second one was for travelling. With many saddlebags, build for comfort and long hours in the air, it was only using leather straps to hold the rider. While the third one was build solely for war. Strong and resilient. Meant to hold the rider in the saddle, it was equipped with more chains and leather straps than the others. Security over mobility.

Apart from Rhaenyra and him, no other dragonrider kept the tradition of having three saddles. Not even Rhaenys. Laena was understandable, because Vhagar was massive, one saddle was enough, there were no craftsmen who would build another saddle for her, so her saddle would only be repaired when needed. Meleys originally still possessed three different saddles, the ones his mother had commissioned years ago. But they were kept inside the Dragonmont same as the three pairs of Vermithor and Silverwings saddles. Colrys had commissioned a brand-new saddle for Meleys when his cousin had married him. Since then, she used only that saddle. Same with Seasmoke.

With Rhaenyra on his arm Daemon went inside the caves of the Dragonmont. Carefully avoiding the caves that lead to Vermithor and Silverwings nest. They made their way to Syrax and Caraxes. Caraxes had abandoned his old cave once Syrax had settled inside the large one, that used to hold Meraxes nest. Now the mated pair slept inside the same cave. Coiled around their eggs. Hunting with each other or alone. To Rhaenyra's delight Syrax had taken to hunting on her own more often, she never had the opportunity in Kingslanding. Nevertheless, the pampered she-dragon still let herself be spoiled by Caraxes. His mount typically bringing his prey to his lady love.

Caraxes shrill roar greeted them, when they reached the entrance of the cave. His niece had confessed she was a bit worried, that Syrax would refuse to leave her eggs. Despite her normally sweet nature, Syrax was a stubborn dragon. Of course her worries were not without reason, a female dragon normally only left her eggs alone when she went hunting or left its mate behind to guard the eggs. But with Caraxes gone, he was certain Syrax would follow him.

"Rytsas Caraxes. Syrax.", he fretted his mount and Rhaenyra's dragon. Caraxes blew smoke in his face, bothered because his arrival had woken up his sleeping mate. Syrax cracked her eye open and chirped when she spotted her rider. Shaking of the grumbling larger dragon she walked towards Rhaenyra, who readily patted and caressed her dragons favourite spot. Sounds similar to purrs filled the cave.

Daemon in the other hand was once again attacked with smoke. Caraxes was displeased to be interrupted by his rider. But settled down when it became clear haunting mate had only eyes for her rider at the moment. Grumbling and sulking he pressed his snout into Daemon's armour. "Cheer up my friend. We are going to war." The prospect of burning his riders enemies seemed to cheer the dragon up. He nuzzled Daemon, but kept an eye on his mate. Who chirped at her rider and listened to her as Rhaenyra explained their plans to her in High Valyrian. Even though they were dragon lords and their rider, they were not capable of forcing the dragons to do something.

"We are going to battle once again, old friend. This time our ladies will come with us. So we will have to keep an eye on them.", he murmured in High Valyrian, his forehead leaned against Caraxes. Who thrilled a bit annoyed. While his mount rejoiced at burning his riders enemies again, he was not keen on seeing his mate possibly injured. Not that Daemon was either, but she-dragons, the ones with and without scales, did not like it to be told they could not do something. If he had dared to tell Rhaenyra to leave the war to him, she would have feed him to his own dragon. He was never really able to deny her anything anyway, so he did not try to forbid her from going to war. Though he tried persuading her at first, as much as his cock rejoiced at seeing her angry and vengeful, he was very much aware of the risks. Taking Rhaenyra to the Stepstones could result in her death. A thought that brought him pain. But she had Syrax and swore to him, she would not dismount until he gave her the signal.

Helping each other to saddle their dragons with the prepared war saddles. His trusted Valyrian sword at his side as well as his dagger he mounted Caraxes. Rhaenyra followed and mounted Syrax as well. On her belt was also a dagger. She had made good progress in her swordsmanship but should she be separated from Syrax a dagger would be better for her. For now at least.

"Sōvēs, Caraxes. Naejot!", he commanded. His mount was the first to take flight, his large wings beating a few times before he rose up into the air. Closely followed by Syrax. The yellow-golden dragon had been a bit grumpy, but willingly left her eggs. As soon as they were far enough from the Dragonmont the dragon keepers would take them to the warming chambers. Screeching the two dragons lifted themselves into the sky, higher and higher. If it was only him and Caraxes they would have made the journey in about a day, without rest. Though that would be unwise. Firstly because now Rhaenyra and Syrax were with them, both not used to flying such great distances yet. Secondly arriving at a battle exhausted would be unwise. It would only make them vulnerable, slow and easy to take down.

The two dragons left Dragonstone, but as they roared answering roars of the other dragons residing on Dragonstone were heard. As if they knew their kin were flying towards a battle and wished them luck. Flying hour after hour, pushing themselves as far as they could to not waste too much time, they reached the Stepstones after two days when the sun was already sinking below the horizon. And they were not a moment too soon. From atop his dragon Daemon could see the barricade of the Velaryons burning down, enemy soldiers streaming into the camp, screaming for bloodshed. He spotted the Dornish among them. He would not risk shouting orders to Rhaenyra, that could alert their enemies of their presence a moment too soon. Chosing a physical gesture to command her to dive and burn the men running through the destroyed blockade was an easier way to communicate. After all they still flew near enough for her to see what he was doing.

Once she saw his gesture she only nodded in confirmation. As fast as a falcon when hunting its prey the two dragons dived. Their maws opened, and two infernos engulfed Triarchy pirates and soldiers from drone. Deep rep flames, burning a bit hotter than the golden flames hindering more soldiers from entering the war camp, burned at least two hundred men at once.

Rhaenyra could smell burning wood, burning flesh, smoke, and the sea. She repressed her impulse to gag and urged Syrax to dive again. From down below it must have looked like a sort of dance. The yellow-golden dragon swooping up and down. Though no one cared how magnificent it looked, after all a dragon was burning their comrades alive. Caraxes and Syrax must have already burned a thousand men. Enemies and allies as well. In the dark and far up in the air it was nearly impossible to distinguish between enemy and ally. Daemon had turned Caraxes and burned the fleeing pirates and the ships. While she flew Syrax above the camp, burning those in orange and bronze clothing as well as the archers they had brought with them.

Syrax delighted in her first battle, bathing men in fire as they screamed while their life ended in agony. Rhaenyra not so much, but it was a necessary evil to protect her sons in the future. And she truly wanted to avenge Laenor. While he had been more a nuisance as of late, he was still her husband in the eyes of the gods and men and more importantly, he was a part of her family. No one hurt her family and got away with it. Soon enough the Velaryon men were the only ones left in the camp, crying with relief at having been saved by the tow Dragonlords.

But the battle was not won yet, the fleeing men were still alive and over three-quarter of the enemy fleet was still intact. Leaving before the Triarchy was crashed and beaten was not an option. So she followed Daemon and Syrax golden flames engulfed hundreds of men and dozens of ships. Careful never to stay low long the two dragonriders took turn burning the fleeing ships. By now all the anchored ships left the beaches, leaving soldiers behind, who would be dealt with later.

Still the ships had scorpions and now on the open ocean the Triarchy and Dorne seemed to remember that. Syrax narrowly avoided being hit, when she took a sharp turn left, flapping her wings rapidly to get them out of range. Rhaenyra was grateful for the extra chains and straps securing her in the saddle. An angry roar from her dragon was answered with a high-pitched screech from Caraxes. Angry at the people who could have injured his mate. A furious red serpentine dragon and an equal angry rider dove, burning ship after ship. Daemon was so focused on the enemy Achaean of him, that he could not see one of the ships sailed behind him, the scorpion ready to take him and Caraxes down.

Rhaenyra however saw the ship. It’s orange sails with a red sun and a spear. A Dornish ship, larger than the rest and armed with two blasted scorpions. One at the front and another at its heck, though the one at the heck was already useless. “Syrax, Embrot. To the ship. Protect Daemon and Caraxes.”, she screamed, fear rising in her stomach. If she was to slow she would see her uncle die in front of her eyes. No she would not lose any more family to those cunts. She begged the gods to help her, to make Syrax faster, begged them to reach the ship before they could fire the bolt.

The Fourteen had watched the entire flight and battle. Approving of Rhaenyra’s choice. She did not have the stomach for real battle, not yet, but she had to be prepared, for even worse in her future. Nonetheless, their current favourite desperate pleas did not fall on deaf ears. The huge yellow-golden dragon dived, seconds after the command rang out, folded her wings and raced towards the ship. Her desperation mixed with that of her rider. Both females scared for the male they loved and trusted like no other. The Fourteen could not let Daemon Targrayen die today, for their champions needed him by her side. So they heard Rhaenyra’s pleas and granted her swiftness and the moment of surprise. The Dornish were disliked by the Valyrian for killing one of their offspring’s. Their anger still very much intact, none of the Fourteen gods hindered the Crown princess at preventing her future consorts death.

Prince Qoren Martell had known they were fucked the moment the first of his men fell to dragonfire. The famous Rouge Prince and his equal famous dragon descended upon them. Terror grasped him even tighter when another dragon began to burn his men and allied forces. A huge golden or yellow, he did not care for the colour of its scales, swooped down and up again, and again and again. It resembled a dance or when the falcons his sister so adored went hunting for prey. The unknown dragon was smaller than Prince Daemon’s, but the size if it mattered not at the moment. Not while burning people to ash in a few seconds. Golden flames nicked his skin, when Doran pushed him out of the way. Both men on the ground, panting, and panic rising in their veins.

The Targaryen's were retaliating. Maybe the King was not a coward or craven as the rumours said. Or the Princess had sent riders to avenge her dead husband. Their forces were doomed. Even with the scorpions, they stood no chance at winning against two dragons, who were aware of their secret weapons. Unlike poor Ser Laenor they could not be killed by a sneak attack. 

“We have to get you out of here.”, Doran hissed, helping him to get back on his feet. “Right now!”, his best friend urged. “Retreat!”, Qoren belowed for all his men to hear. The two Lysenish commanders echoed his order. Their forces retreated to their anchored ships, but no one was fleeing from daemon Targaryen so easily. The two dragonriders had already burned many of their soldiers, but Daemon burned even more now. It was a miracle that he even reached his ship and that his captain managed to even set sail. Others were not so fortunate. The ships burned before they could even lift the anchor. The second dragon now joined the Blood Wyrm, thankfully the scorpions bolts seemed to scare it enough for it to disappear into the higher sky.

Foolish of him to think mere bolts would be able to scare away a dragon. “Aim the bolts at the red giant dragon you fools.”, Doran screamed at the crewmembers. The large scorpion at the front of his ship was loaded and aimed right at the Blood Wyrm and its rider. The other scorpion on the heck was useless, after having been hit by the tail of the red dragon. At the moment Daemon Targaryen turned to see what was behind him, the Sword of the morning wanted to command the soldiers to shot, but never got the chance.

Golden scales came into Qoren view, as the huge dragon from before slammed into his ship. The bolt went flying but missed the Rouge Prince and his dragon entirely. The impact shock the ship, its wood cracking and howling. The crew was screaming and scrambling to get away. Claws and talons destroyed the scopion, teeth feared apart all those who came near. Rumbling, with fire igniting in its throat, the dragon moved its head in Doran’s direction. It seemed the rider was not arrogant enough to risk staying on an enemy ship for long. “Daor Syrax. Sōvēs. Up, into the sky. Hurry.”, a female voice shouted commands in a language Qoren had not learned to speak, but he recognized it nonetheless. High Valyrian, the Targaryens language. Only spoken by dragonriders. Snarling viciously the golden scaled lizard usher itself off, nearly sinking the ship. With a few beats of its powerful wings it was already far away from them.

Two dragons flew in the sky as a unity, bathing most of his fleet in fire. Dorne had lost against House Targrayen once more. His father had warned him about gambling when it came to the dragonlords. If he had listened to his old father’s words, maybe he would not have lost so much. Perhaps he would not have lost his life in the attempt. Because he was sure he would not get back to Dorne alive. “Raise the white flag!”, he commanded. For a few seconds everything was quiet, on the ships. His fellow Dornishmen staring at him, then Doran proceeded to hurriedly find a white flag. The crew members were tripping over themselves to raise the flag. Once his ship had raised it, the other surviving ones followed. Retreating or to continue the fight would not end well for them. The dragons lords had the upper hand, the only chance they had was to surrender and make a deal with the Targaryens.

Rytsas- Hello

Naejot!- Forward

Sōvēs- Fly

Embrot!- Down

Daor- No

Chapter Text

Small Council Chamber

King Viserys Targaryen was tired. Tired of hearing excuse after excuse. The Grandmaester and his trusted Hand, his friend, could not explain to him, how it was that he, the King, was only now informed of the demise of his godson Ser Laenor Velaryon. And the retribution of his daughter and brother. Fire and Blood indeed. The report finally reached his ears, days later.

His heir and his Rouge brother had mounted their dragons, flew to the Stepstones and laid waste to a large amount of men and ships of both the Triarchy and Dorne. Lord Corlys had written his report, this time not Otto had brought it to his attention, but his Master of ships Ser Tyland Lannister. The two dragons defeated the Triarchy and their Dornish allies with a surprise attack. Burning men and ships, until the armies leaders raised the white flag and surrendered. Corlys informed them of the capture of Dorne's ruling Prince, Qoren Martell. Though he did not inform of what had become of him.

While Otto had tried to dismiss the problem, after all the war had been started without Viserys leave, but the King for the first time, told his Hand to shut up. He listened to the report, as one of Lord Corlys trusted captains told the Small council the tale of bloody vengeance. His brother had taken his daughter to war. His little girl surrounded by filth and blood. An image that resulted in horrifying nightmares. Nightmares that showed Rhaenyra covered in blood or dead. Her throat slit or her body burned. Horrific images that made his heart stop for a beat.

His brother could very well hurt his child in the Stepstones in this very moment. Rhaenyra was defenceless against Daemon, for she had always loved him the best, after her grandsire Baelon of course, and she never could see wrong in his actions. Unlike him, she could not see his true self. A corrupted, vile man, who only did what was best for him. A warmonger, who spend his free time with his whores and his criminal friends. Daemon was a brutal man, but he was the best warrior of their generation.

Rhaenyra was without protection in the Stepstones. None of the soldiers, despite being sworn to her husband, to her, would do nothing against Daemon. None would dare go against the Rouge Prince. Certainly not Corlys, after all Daemon had saved his life and the efforts he invested into the war. With Laenor gone, so was Seasmokes protection. Rhaenyra had no one to shied her from his brothers dark desires. Now that he had divorced the Lady Laena, who had also fled the kingdom, to his great displeasure, nothing would stop him from getting the one thing that he wanted. Viserys daughter and heir. His beloved, beautiful daughter Rhaenyra.

(Viserys was forgetting how much Daemon valued his blood and that he loved and adored his niece more than he valued his own life. The gods could only shake their head sin disappointment, the dragon king was falling from their grace more and more with each day. They had once hoped the lessons his father taught him would bear fruit, unite the two brothers. But as anticipated the dragonless king was weak, more prone to listen to Andals. Prone to become one himself. He ignored his traditions and refused to see his the true characters of his family members. While Daemon was ambitious, Rhaneyra tempered his ambition and restlessness.)

(The twin flames would balance each other out well. Daemon was a warrior, who voiced his opinions loudly. For him violence was often the answer to many things. He was reckless, hotheaded and acted before he thought about the consequences. Rhaenyra on the other hand was more level-headed, calmer, more collected. A mother dragon with a focused, controlled flame burning inside her. The Crown Princess would be able to help Daemon soothe his temper, and the Prince was the protection, the shield and sword she would need in the future. Besides, she was a dragonrider since the age of seven. Trained and talented, deeply connected with her she-dragon. A soon-to-be formidable she-dragon, that would not be hatred by her mate. The gods were sure even if Daemon would command Caraxes to attack Syrax, the dragon would refuse. Because while a rider and a dragons bond was important, for dragons there was nothing more sacred than the bond of two mated dragons.)

"Tell me Grandmaester, how come that I was not informed about my godsons death or the end of the war before Lord Colrys report arrived. I was assured the war would be of no consequence and yet many houses suffer consequences and my dangers consort is dead!", he roared, let the dragon he once rode. Not that Viserys Targrayen was much of a dragon these days any more. He was more of a Wyrm pretending to be a dragon.

"I deeply apologise Your Grace. It will not happen again. However, I was assured the letters would reach you when I handed them over.", Grandmaester Mellos assured him. "Handed the letters to whom?!", Viserys demanded, heavily breathing. Normally his wife would sit next to him, but since it had not been long since Aemond's birth, he had ordered her to rest and spend some time with the children. (Basically a dismissal from the council.) if Viserys had pained more attention, he would have noticed how uncomfortable his so-called friend Otto became, when he demanded to know who the culprit was

"The Lord Hand said, you had ordered for all the letters to be given to him first, to inspect them, Your Grace.", the Maester revealed, a calculated move that would save him from the wrath of the King. And truly the King turned his wrath upon his Hand and father-by-law. "I have never given you such a command Otto. You seem to have forgotten who I am. You do not have power or authority that is above mine. Furthermore, you are my Hand, not the King.", he hissed, his face red with anger.

"I apologise Your Grace. I only wished to lessen your burden. You have been occupied with other more important matters of the realm. It would have only endangered your health to know about the doings of Daemon and Rhaenyra. Laenor Velaryons death was unfortunate indeed, but the Sea Snake risked his heir by calling him to a war, the Crown had not permitted.", as always Otto tried to calm the King and manipulate him. Though he had underestimated the love Viserys held for his daughter. While he was still easily manipulated by certain people, Otto was beginning to fall out of his grace. Something the Hand had yet to realize.

"I have not asked you to look out for my health, Lord Hand. You are a servant of the crown. And I am the Crown. Instead of serving me, you have endangered the realm, with withholding essential information. My son-by-law, my cousin's son, my daughter's husband is dead! Killed by enemies you assured me would never dare to wage a war against us. You predicted that one side would give up their efforts, and we would have our peace, now look where your predictions have led us. My daughter lost her husband, her consort, the father of her children. And I, her father was not informed, because you thought it would do me well not to know of my daughter's situation. I had no chance to comfort her in her sorrow, instead my reckless brother has persuaded her to go to war. In her desire to avenge her beloved husband, while it should have been I who avenged Laenor in her stead. I am the King, I am the crown, nothing that endangers this realm is unimportant!", the King spat. His blood roaring in anger at having been betrayed by a man he called his closest friend.

"I apologise dearly for my mistake Your Grace. I was wrong and shall never do so again. However regarding Prince Daemon, his actions once again prove, that he....", today the Hand had overreached, all but him knew it. His allies in the council, Lord Tyland and the Grandmaester turned pale and avoided looking at him. The Master of Law, Lyonel Strong, and Lord Bessbury, Master of Coin watched on as the clever Otto Hightower duck his own grave. So did Lord Commander Harrold Westerling. "Lord Commander, bring me the pin.", the King interrupted his hand. "Your Grace?", a stunned Otto asked, as Ser Harrold Westerling took his pin from his cloak, hiding a satisfied little smile in his beard.

"You will have a day Otto, to leave the capital. Return to Oldtown, I will appoint a new hand, who does not hide anything from his King. For to long I have indulged you. My daughter was right, I should have dismissed you, the scene your daughter became my second wife and Queen Consort. I have shown too much favour to House Hightower with letting you keep your position. But you have served me well in these past years, which is why I do not have you dragged back to Oldtown.", Viserys declared.

Trying and failing to plead his case, Otto Hightower had to yield to the weak willed King. If he only had more time and had been alone with the King, or if his daughter was present he could have avoided dismissal. "As you wish Your Grace.", he bowed and left the Small Council chamber, his posture stiff and his face twisted into an angry grimace.

Lord Commander Westerling would not admit it out Lou, but he was glad to finally see that snake gone from Kingslanding. While he knew that the Hand's dismissal could complicate Princess Rhaenyra's situation, but one person less who wanted to lay stones in her way was dearly welcomed by him. He had sworn to never father children with taking on the White Cloak, but truthfully sometimes he saw the young princess, who once was his charge before he became Lord Commander, as his daughter. The little girl full of mischief, who kept him on his toes. The realms delight, who despite the grieve she had experienced in her young life, always smiled and greeted him and spoke warmly to him. Her former protector felt nothing but warmth, love, and pride when thinking about the Crown Princess. Queen Aemma would have been proud of her, if only she could see her daughter. He would be delighted to see her ascend the throne, but that would still take years.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of what will happen to Princess Rhaenyra now.", Lord Tyland dared to call out. The Kings blazing eyes wandered to him. "Elaborate that Lord Tyland.", he commanded. "With all due respect your Grace, the princess had lost her Lord husband, she will need a new consort, to give her more heirs and secure her line. It would not do her any good to remain unmarried.", the audacity of the second Lannister son, surprised Westerling, Strong and Bessburry a bit. But they knew how ambitious second sons could be. Ser Laenor's death opened doors for the Lords of the realm, a chance to become Crown Princess Rhaenyra's new husband. "And there is the matter of the Princess going into battle, my King. The faith will not look favourable upon her. A woman should let men handle war. After all she has two small children in Dragonstone.", the Grandmaester raised another issue.

They should have left the matter alone. If they had brought it up at another council meeting the King would not have retaliated as he would do now. "My brother had without a doubt the glorious idea to take revenge himself. My daughter loved Laenor, and she is the Blood of the dargon. Since I did not retaliate on her behalf she did it herself, on Daemon's suggestion. If I so much as hear a rumour uttered by any followers of the Faith, the donations will be cut and their tongue shall be removed. I will not have gossip spread about my heir!", he raged. (As if he had not turned a blind eye on the rumours that already surrounded his daughter.)

"It would be disrespectful to already search for a new spouse Lord Tyland. The mourning period has just begun. And even the Crown Prince cannot allow herself to cut the mourning period short.", the Master of Law reminded them. Lord Strong may have been against naming the princess as heir first, but he had nothing against the clever princess. She was dedicated and tried her best, and he would not stand in her way. Besides these men preached about following customs and overlooked them, whenever it benefited them.

The King winced a bit at the reminder, that his own mourning period was much too short, to be proper. "Lord Strong is right. My daughter has two healthy sons, and the Velaryons will be slighted if I dared to asked her to choose a new consort before the appropriate time had passed. I will hear no more of this. This session is finished.", abruptly ending the meeting was unusual for the King, but at the moment he was a father who desperately wanted to write to his daughter. The Lords stood up, bowed and left the chamber as fast as they could, not wanting to risk dismissal as well, at least that is what Tyland and Mellos did. "Captain Bryden please stay for a bit, I wish for you to deliver letters to Lord Corlys, Prince daemon and my daughter.", Viserys asked the elderly captain of his cousins husband. He only received a nod as answer. So the King wrote his letters, one was burned as soon as it was read, the other would sink into the ocean and the third would be wet with tears.

Tower of the Hand 

Only once before had he felt so humiliated in his life. When Daemon Targaryen embarrassed him in front of the entire realm, when he as a young knight, defeated Otto, who was knighted though he had no real talent with swords, within mere seconds. Dark Sister at his throat he yielded. After that his hatred for Viserys brother deepened with every passing day. He rejoiced every time he managed to make the King doubt his brother. Every time the Rouge Prince was banished. This time however it was not the Prince who was at fault for his humiliation, no the normally weak King was.

Berating and dismissing him in front of the whole council, was a punishment that hurt more than torture. (Not that he would know how torture felt.) He had a day to pack his belongings and return to his home. Oldtown ruled by his brother, who would humiliate him even further for failing to stay in the Kings good grace. At least his daughter was still in a favourable position with Viserys. He would have to speak with her before he departed. He needed her to continue pressing the matter of succession with her husband. The King had to see, that Aegon was his rightful heir. Righteous Hightower blood would sit upon the throne of dragons. His grandchildren would bring glory upon their house. The first dragonriders with the sacred Hightower blood in their veins. A new era would begin when his grandson would take his place on the throne.

But Viserys had destroyed many of his plans with dismissing him. He would have to bid his time, until the Kings temper was more even, and he could once again speak with him. He was a second son, who would have been better suited to rule Oldtown. Unlike his elder brother, he knew how to correctly play the game. The only opponent who would have a chance at defeating him would be Princess Rhaenys, a woman who had a sharp mind and wit. But the grieve and anger she ha within here, presented her from moving against him. While he saw Rhaenys as an opponent, Daemon was a thorn in his side.

The famous Rouge Prince, with his undignified behaviour. Normally he respected other second sons who sought to better their station, but something about Daemon Targaryen made his blood boil. And the Prince used every opportunity to hinder him. Who truly made him worry though was Princess Rhaenyra. While he could predict Daemon and Rhaenys to a certain degree, the current, temporary heir was someone who was nearly unreadable.

Despite having Alicent spy on her, she remained reserved and stubborn. Less trustful, especially after Alicent's marriage to her father. Otto had underestimated the Princess/ her trust had to be earned and only few were able to do so. Unfortunately not one of his own spies could get even remotely close to her. Her household (her four ladies and most of her guards originated from the Vale, a kingdom that hated his family and him, for Alicent had taken Queen Aemma's place quickly.)

Rhaenyra was an unknown factor. She had done her duty, she wed Laenor Velaryon, mended the mistake of her father. Despite what his daughter wanted to believe, Otto was quite sure the twin princes were not bastards. They looked too similar to dead Targaryen's, their hair also similar to that of Baratheons. While his daughter spread false rumours of bastardy, he cautiously tried to remind Viserys of his male heirs. His grandsons Aegon and Aemond, should come before their elder half-sister in the succession. But the normally gullible King had remained steadfast in upholding his eldest child as his heir.

He would never have thought the Princess to possess the courage to fly to war and burn people, it was irritating for him to be wrong. The princess had much more courage than anticipated. She would not be easily led by anyone, not even her uncle. Daemon had always followed the whims of his niece, even when she was still a toddler. Alicent deluded herself into thinking her sworn shield would be able to take down Daemon, but Otto knew better. Criston Cole stood no chance against Daemon in a real fight. In a tourney yes, in real combat no. While Daemon fought many bloody battles, the only experience the Kingsguard had was short, against Dornish, otherwise he only fought against other Kingsguard's. And their commander easily defeated him.

Adjusting his plans would now be necessary. He could not kill the princess or her sons, it would only mean his certain death. Because Daemon would seek retribution for his darling niece's death. The same would happen, should anything happen to the Rouge Prince. Unlike Viserys, Rhaenyra always defended her uncle. Her revenge would be less obvious, but as devastating as Daemon's, of that he was sure. First he had to motivate Alicent even more. Aegon had to be prepared to be heir, and they needed more heirs. More dragonriders.

Dragons were another important matter. Rhaneyra's family had four, her own, Daemons and her two sons, maybe even Princess Rhaenys'. While they had still no dragons. No matter a lords ambition, no one would declare for Aegon if he had no dragon of his own if his opponent had one. Now even a battle tested one. His grandchildren required dragons. Grown ones at best. Vermithor and Silverwing as well as Seasmoke would sufficient. An idea he would discuss with his daughter. Now he had to pack, otherwise it could end bad for 

Next day, Otto's departure, Red Keep courtyard

Dressed in Green and Black, without his hand pin, Otto Hightower prepared the last few things before he departed to Oldtown. His belongings would be sent after him. He himself would ride back home on horseback. "Father!", the voice of his daughter called him. She stepped inside the courtyard, rushing down the stairs to reach him. Her emerald green dress, a colour she liked to wear these days, he was relieved she made an effort. Nevertheless, had Viserys been a slightly stricter husband she would have been severely punished for wearing that colour at Rhaenyra's weeding.

Criston Cole as always trailing behind his daughter these days. The Kingsguard had become Alicent's Sworn shield, an attempt to spite her stepdaughter. But the princess had barely cared about that. More worried about her weeping husband. He had not been present on the princess weeding day, only just retuning from a secret trip, as an excuse he used a light illness. No one suspected something. After all, all his servants and the Maesters were loyal to Oldtown. He suspected that the relationship between his daughter and her Sworn Shield was much more personal, than it should be. Though he did not have exact proof, nor would it benefit him. If word got out, Alicent would be thrown out of the Red Keep and sent to the Silent Sisters. Otto was quite sure Viserys would disinherit her children and name them as bastards. With Princess Rhaenyra's persuasion.

The princess was clever, more intelligent than Alicent, because her mind worked on her own accord. She, unlike his daughter, could not truly rely on her father. Viserys was too deeply into Otto's pocket, but even he could not protect his daughter if her possible affair with Cole was found out. Princess Rhaenyra knew that her father would not do much to protect her claim, only upholding it against him and those who tried to argue Aegon's claim. He knew not to push, sadly some of his allies did not. As far as one of his spies had informed him, the Grandmaester and the Master of Ships were idiotic enough to ask the King after his daughter's remarriage and her actions in the Stepstones.

Though he had other problems at the moment. He was officially banished from the capital, it could take years for him to come back and while he was away his daughter would be the head of their faction. Alicent however was too naive to sometimes truly grasped what men really wanted. She was in a delicate position and her hysterical hatred was not making it easier. She was often led by emotions, emotions often led to missteps. Missteps they could not allow.

They had fewer allies than they thought, a few traditional families and the faith of course were on their side and the Lannisters as well. Others had become used to a female heir and supported Rhaenyra. And three houses would be impossible to convert to their side. House Arryn, the former Queens paternal House, House Velaryon, the princess-in-laws, and House Stark. As long as Viserys did not officially change the succession himself publicly, they would remain loyal to the current heir. House Arryn hated them, especially Alicent for replacing Aemma and disrespecting a beloved Lady of the Vale

Others were jealous of the new queen, since the other major houses had no chance to even present worthy candidates to the King. Because all were respecting the mourning period. All but Alicent and by extension House Hightower. House Tyrell sought every opportunity to rob them of their power. The Reach's Paramount Lords were unhappy with the wealth and power Oldtown possessed. Without him here Alicent would lose allies, to the charming princess. To the Rouge Prince, none wanted to be on his bad side. Daemon would never side with Aegon over his beloved niece. After all Laenor Velaryons death meant, he could become her next husband and next consort. He only needed to kill the twins and his own heirs would rule the Kingdom after his wife.

Daemon never truly wanted the throne, that much Otto knew, he wanted his older brother's attention and respect. Something Otto once had wanted, but unlike the Prince, he had given up on trying to earn it fairly early. While Daemon continued to try, how pathetic. Though no man, second son or firstborn, would pass on getting their blood on the throne. Technically he knew Targaryens had different inheritance laws than the rest of Westeros. By all means Rhaenys should have been Queen. But King Jaehaerys called a Great Council and let the Lords decide. Because the King's word was law.

King Viserys had declared his firstborn child as his heir, he was within his rights as the King of Westeros to do that. Traditions were not law. While his daughter went on and on about tradition (she called it law) of the firstborn son to inherit, he simply wanted Hightower blood on the Iron Throne. His blood. Not Hobart's, his. His unworthy edler brother was Oldtown Lord, he should have inherited, he was more suited. Nevertheless, he had an elder sibling, thus doming him to be a powerless second son. When he met Prince Viserys, before Prince Baelon's death, he had not thought about the opportunity that could arise. It came soon after though. Years he had worked his way up in court and became friends with Prince Viserys.

When he ordered the Maesters to slowly poison the Prince Baelon, and they made the mistake to use the wrong poison, they had enough luck that the poison was untreatable, and instead the illness was identified ad a burst belly. As much as he had reacted the further King, he was in his way. Because unlike his eldest son, Baelon was hard to manipulate, despite the grieve he experienced. Never taking a second wife, remarrying never was an option for him. Jaehaerys made his son and heir his hand, a position Otto needed to further solidify his plans for the future. So he took a pawn of the board with the former Crown Princes death.

Lastly the many miscarriages of Aemma Arryn, a result of Viserys impregnating her early, before the young woman could fully develop and be strong enough to birth Healy children. Princess Rhaenyra's healthy status was a surprise to them all, but neither he nor the Maesters saw her as a danger. Not back then, clearly a misstep on their part. Now he knew he had underestimated the spoiled princess. With Daemon by her side she became much more dangerous than before. Having a grown dragon, that was certainly not done growing was also an advantage. Neither of his grandchildren had dragons yet, he would have even been happy with hatchlings, but the eggs went cold, no dragon would hatch out of them.

Alicent was happy with that development, only seeing the dragons as unholy beast she did not want near her children. But Otto saw them for what they really were. An instrument of power. Without dragons the Targaryens would have never tried to take over Westeros. The faction with more dragons had an advantage. Currently, that faction was Rhaenyra's. With three grown dragons and two hatchlings, who would grow sooner or later. His chance of convincing the King to let his other children go to Dragonstone and try to lay claim to the Wild Dragons living there was gone. Their only hope was lying with Alicent now, for her to persuade her husband, when she finally grasped the importance of dragons to their cause.

"Father!", the Queen called again, all the servants who still were present in the courtyard left with haste. See Criston Cole stayed a few paces behind the Queen Consort. A proper distance not to eavesdrop on the conversation that would follow. Finally reaching him, Alicent smoothed her green skirts. The girl was a bit too obvious, thank the Seven for their oblivious and blind King, to gnome the colours his wife and his children wore. Since their birth his grandchildren were dressed in green, on few occasions in red or black. But on Aegon, Helaena and Aemond (he was still a baby so the colour he was rapped in did not matte) the Targaryens colours looked horrible. Their appearance washed out, just like his daughter had looked in the early stages of her marriage. Green was her colour, blue maybe as well, but dark and rich colours like the royal houses colours made her look strange. Sadly her children had inherited that trade. He was only glad that the two royal princes and their sister inherited their father's colouring.

Otherwise, their cause would have no true support. So it was good they had Targrayen hair and eyes. In two generations or so it would be easier to have the Targaryen dynasty replaced by another family. "You should be seen of by the court and not quite and without a farewell like a criminal.", Alicent huffed angrily. "Not so loud daughter. Not all ears are ours.", he warned. She waved his warning away. "We have the advantage father, the court is ours. But this disrespect, we should not...", she snapped, but Otto interrupted her. "The King's orders are to be obeyed without question. We have no choice but to accept it. I am no longer the Hand of the King, the court does not have to respect me any longer.", he said. "This is unfair, father. You did nothing wrong. Viserys is getting weaker, and you only wished to lighten his burden. I do not understand why he would dismiss you.", Alicent almost sounded like she was whining.

Otto pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I withheld information regarding his daughter. He thinks I am no longer trustworthy. The King will find another hand, that is not in any relation to you, thus his actions will not benefit us. I made a mistake I will not make a second time.", he explained. "The Grandmaester betrayed us, he should not have exposed you!" "The Grandmaester saved his own position and life with his statement. While I was simply banished, he would have been relieved of his head. We cannot afford to lose more support in the Council.", Otto told her, his tone firm, to make it clear, that the discussion was at its end.

"We could have replaced him with another Maester loyal to us." "We could, but that Maester would have to first earn the King's trust. Trust Mellos already has. So he will not be removed from his position, or we will only have Lord Tyland as ally on the council.", the warning in his tone seemed to stick this time. Lannisters were fickle people, the lions pride was their greatest weakness. Their pride was also the reason for their support of Aegon. Because the Princess had turned down both Lannister twins.

"We will not have the advantage for long if you continue to behave so recklessly.", he hissed, seizing his daughter's arms. Ser Coles grip on his sword tightened, and he took one step forward. "Stay where you are Cole, I am speaking with my daughter,", he ordered. "I am the Queens Sworn Shield, Mylord. I only act on her orders.", the insolent Kingsguard replied. Otto gave his daughter a sharp look, and she bowed her head submissively. "Step back Ser Criston.", she said.

"Whatever do you mean I should not behave so recklessly?", Alicent asked know. Sometimes his daughter could be dense, but she surely knew what he was talking about. "You dress in green openly, you dress your children in green and gossip with your ladies over the princess. Once your words or gossip reaches the King's ear, he will have no mercy for you. You command the current heir as if she was a servant, you were in luck, that your husband did not find out about the stunt you wanted to pull after her labours were finished. He would have you whipped for trying to separate his first grandchild from his daughter. You think you are above everyone, but your power comes from him. Do not fall out of his favour or our plans will be destroyed. All our efforts until now will be in vain if your recklessness makes them useless.", he scolded her harshly.

"I will do better, father.", Alicent promised, tears in her eyes. "Listen to me, daughter. Rhaenyra will cut of any challenge to her succession. You insulted her and her children often enough, you made yourself her enemy and by extension your children her enemy. She will not spare them the day she ascends to the throne. The first thing she will do is to order her cursed uncle to relieve our family of their heads. Aegon and Aemond are a threat to her claim, as any future son you will also be a threat.", he whispered, to stop anybody from eavesdropping. Because the Kingsguard at Alicent's back did nothing but stare at him and watch his daughter. Useless to chase off any spies who might linger near them.

Otto was not deluding himself to be invincible, he had a few enemies. He wasn't risking alerting them of anything. "Remember two things Alicent, it is your duty to give the realm more heirs and to remind your sons of their enemy. Now their fate is in your hands until I return. Prepare Aegon to rule or Rhaenyra will be our doom." "Of course father. I will do my duty."

"Good.", he nodded, released her arms and walked over to his horse. But he turned around one last time. "And cease your business with the club foot daughter. You will find yourself in a trap sooner than you realize if you continue dealing with him.", he warned her. She nodded again, bitting her lip to avoid replying. "Also get your guard under control. If you are found out, nothing will save you. Am I understood?" "Yes father. I understand." "Farewell, Alicent.", he mounted the horse with stiff joints and took the reins. "Farewell father, have a good journey home. Please greet Gwayne from me."

Queens Rooms

Angrily storing through the corridors of the red keep, on the way to the Queen Chambers was the Queen Consort Alicent Hightower. Her fists hidden inside the voluminous skirts of her dress. Her face remained blank, a polite mask worn in the council chamber and in front of the court. The facade only fell when she was in the safety of her rooms. Criston guarding her door (from the inside). “It is always Rhaenyra this, Rhaenyra that! Even miles away she somehow got my father dismissed from a position he possessed for many years. He was alwaysViserys closest advisor and friend. Now my husband discards him because he withheld some information about his daughter. A useless girl, that is only heiress because our King is a sentimental fool, who will not follow the law as he should. I tried everything to persuade him to change the succession, but he held firm in his decision to have that entitled girl as his heir.”, she raged, hands on a table. Her breath heavy in her anger. Criston Cole watched as his Queen ranted on and on about the nemesis the two of them shared.

“The Iron Throne rightfully belongs to my son, so does Dragonstone. Rhaenyra convents both. She thinks she is entitled to it, because her mother was Viserys first wife. But unlike me, Aemma Arryn was a failure. All her sons died, she could not bring forth an heir. I on the other hand gave him two heirs already and the most beautiful princess. But he doesn’t even acknowledge them at all. All he cares about is his eldest child, from his first love. While my children will inherit nothing, she inherits everything.”, huffing in frustration, Alicent sat down on a chair. Year after year she had to watch as Rhaenyra got everything she wanted, was spoiled endlessly by her family and could do anything that she wanted to. While she once had been her friend, after lying to her twice she could not trust her any more.

So when Alicent finally had the power to decide over her former friend’s head she used it. Trying to show Rhaenyra humility and the proper way for a lady to behave. She should have been married of to one of her father’s allies, to solidify Aegon’s hold on the Iron Throne. Instead, her foolish husband kept a female heir, when he had two sons through his marriage to her. Viserys could have easily degraded Rhaenyra and replace her with his rightful heir. Her son Aegon deserved the Throne, with her as Queen Mother he would lead Westeros to an age of prosperity and back into the light of the Seven.

The Seven who are One, were the gods that guided her throughout her life the entire time. Through their will she became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. With equal power as the King. Her seat at the council was easy enough to acquire, Viserys was often easy to manipulate. Especially during their marriage duties. Her beautiful sons, who looked like their father, much to her disappointment, would get nothing. They were spares in Viserys mind, a position that they did not deserve. Aegon would be a wonderful King one day, Aemond at his side, as his sword and protector. Whatever other brothers they would have in the future would help to protect their brother and King. She prayed that every babe she would birth from now on was another boy. A boy that would help them to fight against Rhaenyra’s faction.

The princess never knew how to properly listen. She wasn’t a proper, dutiful lady. She shrieked her duties for dragon riding lessons or to spent time with that horrid uncle of hers. A man that embodied sin. A warmonger who would take her family’s heads without having to be motivated. Daemon Targrayen hated her father and anyone that shared blood with them. He would never swear obedience to his true-born nephews. Neither would their elder half-sister. So they would simply have to make way. Just like Aemma Arryn had to make way for her to become Queen.

The former Arryn Queen had unholy blood, blood Alicent’s children unfortunately shared, she was a weak woman who failed to fulfil a woman’s only duty. To give her husband sons to inherit his seat. She succeeded where Rhaenyra’s mother did not. And what was her reward? Second place in the Kings heart and mind. All he seemed to care about was his precious Rhaenyra and occasionally his Rouge brother.

Now with Laenor dead, nothing stood in Daemon’s way to marry his niece. Targrayen’s and their queer costumes of marriage within family. A custom she wished her children would not have to follow. But at least her eldest two would have to. Aegon needed a Targrayen Queen for Targrayen heirs. Aegon and Helaena’s children would marry into other houses, deluding the cursed dragon blood. Until barely anything remained of it.

“Tell me Ser Criston am I wrong to want Aegon to inherit the Throne after his father?”, she asked her trusted guard. “Of course not your Grace. You could never be in the wrong. It is custom and tradition for the firstborn son to inherit. The King is simply waiting for the right time. After all Crown Prince Aegon is still young and vulnerable.”, the knight answered. His words only assuring Alicent of her righteous path. “True, he will be in danger should Rhaenyra and her blasted uncle come back to Kingslanding.”, she nodded along.

“Her bastard boys will also be a danger to the Prince, your Grace.”, Criston reminded her. “No, they will not come into contact with him. I will make sure of that. Their age difference is too large, neither their lessons nor their swords training will overlap. Besides after their mother’s disinheritance and them being declared as true bastards they will never step foot onto the capitals soil ever. They will be banished to the north far away from their rotten mother and grow up around the other bastards and unholy creatures at the wall.” “As you say my Queen.” “I am grateful for your service Ser Criston. At least I have you as a trustworthy ally by my side.” “You will always have my sword at your service.”, he bowed his head. Alicent smiled.

The Kingsguard disagreed by Rhaenyra was one of her greatest allies, and not easily dismissed. She would do as her father asked of her. Raise her sons to be what they were supposed to be. A future King and future princes of the realm. They would be glorious and going down into history. Her name would go down into the history, as the Queen who brought the light of the Seven back. As the Queen who saved the Targaryen dynasty. With her allies at her side, she would crush Rhaenyra before she truly became a danger to her sons.

But her father was right, now that Otto Hightower was gone, she would have to be more careful. The Hand would no longer be on her side. Unless she could persuade Viserys to choose one of her allies as his next hand. Alicent would have to rely on Larys Strong for useful information with her father and his network of spies gone with him. Larys was a dangerous man, more than many realized. But she was smart enough not to let him trick her. (She thought she was smart enough.) She would show her father that she did not have to rely on him, she would protect her son’s claim on her own. After Viserys death Aegon would ascend the Iron Throne as its rightful King.

Fourteen gods watched as the delusional Hightower woman, who wormed her way into the bed of a Targaryen. The weakest of the royal line. A pity, once they had thought about making him a dreamer, to give him visions to change the future his enemies desired. But the warning they had sent him, was the beginning of it all. They would never forgive themselves the mistake that cost their champion her mother. A dream the King believed to be part of a prophecy and someday he would come to realize his mistake and what he truly dreamed about. Until then the fourteen gods could only shake their heads and watch on as their chosen ones enemy planned her demise because of her greed.

Their favour solely would lay on Rhaenyra Targaryen and her offspring, her half-siblings would not get their favour. These three children and the one that would follow them, would grow up to believe in the Seven who are one. Gods who did not care for their followers, who existed to see the world fall. Their followers fanatics who accepted no other opinion.

Soon an event would decide if the winning side would be Rhaenyra Targaryen’s faction. As powerful as the Fourteen once were, they had to regain their strength. A process which would tale a while. But until then they would do anything within their power to support her cause. The world depended on how the war over Viserys Targaryen's succession ended.

Chapter Text

Daemon

Caraxes screeched when he landed on the hill near the war camp. Daemon's mount was born for war, but two years of not flying that long distances and not fighting in wars left even him agitated and grumpy. His mount whipped his tail around in an angry gesture and grumbled loudly. As fast as he possibly could Daemon unchained himself from his saddle. It was harder than he imagined, all the extra chains and leathers straps that were secured in the war saddle took time to unchain.

Finally, he managed to dismount, and his feet landed on solid ground. After hours of flying in dragonback even his legs and body ached. For Rhaenyra, he imagined, it would be even worse. She was not used to flying long hours or distances. And had only recently begun flying regularly again. Another thing the green Queen had taken from his niece. Another thing he would take revenge for. Alicent Hightower would regret ever turning against her former mistress, he would ensure that. But for her, he had no mercy, his niece may be hesitant to do anything because of their friendship, he had no such restraints.

All of those who undermined his beloved would eventually die. But the Hightowers would die slowly, their blasted House should have been eliminated years ago. Alas, he had to give it to the Hightower's, these snakes were smart and cunning. Nonetheless, he would ensure they would be destroyed one way or another. But first he had to take care of these Triarchy and Dornish cunts. Prince Qoren Martell and his closest confidant the Sword of the Morning had been captured, though both Lysenish commanders had escaped with a dozen of their ships. The rest of their soldiers and ships were either burned to ash or had raised white flags.

Despite having scorpion bolts they were useless against surprise attacks from two dragons. Especially one as fast and swift as Syrax. It helped that Caraxes had been even more vicious than normal because of his desire to protect his mate. A mated make dragon could be a real menace and a danger even to his rider sometimes. Male dragons were temperamental when they mated for the first time and highly protective of their mate for the rest of their lives. Their aversion died down after some years, but it could be different for Caraxes. After all he was very much different from other male dragons. Not only his appetite but also his behaviour was different. His mount was more of a solitary being, tolerating other dragons, who avoided him on their own already. That only changed when Syrax spread.

Years ago when his niece first introduced her small hatchlings to his Blood Wyrm. At first, he had ignored the yellow-golden hatchling, until Syrax had scratched and bitten him to get his attention. Back then he feared his temperamental dragon would tear the small baby dragon in half, instead of doing so Caraxes did something unusual for him. He began to communicate with the hatchling. His shrill clicks and roars softer than he ever heard before. Syrax answered with her own chirps and melodic roars.

Since then the two dragons spent as much time together as they could. When he was in Kingslanding Caraxes mots likely shared Syrax cave, to be near the younger she-dragon. Really the only dragon who actually seemed to enjoy his company. Daemon could remember the she-dragons mournful roars whenever Caraxes left, when he was once again banished. Similar to Rhaenyra, who cried in his arms the hour before he left. Daemon would ensure that neither his Blood Wyrm, nor he himself would be ported from their other halves ever again. Even if he had to resort to drastic measures.

The yellow-golden dragon of his niece was currently flying over their heads. Flapping her wings lazily, just enough to stay in the air. Only when he gave Rhaenyra his signal would she asked Syrax to land. The Prince did not trust a single man in this war camp. Most of all he did not trust Corlys. The Sea Snake was only still alive, because they arrived just in time to distract his attackers. Arriving a little later would have helped them get rid of the greedy Velaryon. But they still needed him. With Laenor gone Baelon was Corlys direct heir. Should Corlys die he would inherit the Driftwood Throne, and Rhaenyra's boy was too young for that. In around two decades or so he could be ready, but Baelon was still an infant barely a toddler really. It would crush his niece if she had to let her second son live in Driftmark surrounded by Velaryon kin who hated him, because Corlys got himself killed.

Nothing could be done but ensure the Sea Snake lived for at least a decade or two. After all who better to teach the boy about the art of sailing, than the famous Lord of Driftmark. Said Lord was walking towards him at the moment, five men behind him. All dressed in dirty armour and underneath it blue clothing. One of them was Vaemond, Corlys younger brother, three others Daemon identified as Vaemond's sons. Daemion, Daemon and he forgot the thirds name, unimportant anyway. The last man though was the most interest. His head did not sport the Velaryon silver curls, instead it looked like it was shaved recently. So his heard did not give any indication if he was of Velaryon lineage. His face on the other hand did, he looked quite similar to a younger Corlys. Daemon had seen a few portraits of him before he took over as Lord of Driftmark from his grandfather, Lord Daemon Velaryon.

The Targaryen nearly laughed out loud, only the Velaryon patriarch would be bold and stupid enough to have is illegitimate son with him on a campaign his true-born son had. Truly he was surprised Rhaenys had not found out about her husband's infidelity. Maybe she knew and just ignored it as long as he kept his offspring away from her and her children. Now that Laenor was dead he could ask Viserys to legitimize his bastard children so he could name one of them as his heir. Corlys may have supported Rhaenys ascension to the Throne, only because he would have been King Consort and most likely ruled in all but name over his wife's head. And he would have insisted on the Velaryon name. Daemon was sure his grandfather had called the Great Council because he did not want Corlys anywhere near the Throne. The prejudices of Westerosi men certainly helped keeping the Velaryons away from the Iron Throne. At least his brother had the foresight not to agree to have Velaryon as Aerion's surname.

"Prince Daemon!", the tall Velaryon walked towards him stopping a few meters away. Caraxes snapped his teeth near the Velaryon. All stumbled back a few steps, even Corlys. "Calm, my friends we will have to endure it for a while.", he soothed his mount. Stroking the scales under his chin. After a few minutes he left Caraxes side and his dragon laid down on the hill. His eyes however still fixed upon Syrax. After he was sure the Velaryons would not try anything Daemon motioned for Rhaenyra that it was safe to land.

Syrax wings fluttered, and she landed with a loud thud. The she-dragon stretched her neck and roared. Baring her teeth at the unknown men. Who shivered in fear and took a few steps back to being more distance between them. Only then did Syrax lower herself to the ground to make it easier for Rhaenyra to dismount. Like him, she needed time to dismount. When she managed to unchain herself she patted Syrax neck affectionately and walked towards him.

The she-dragon protectively loomed behind them, her green eyes watching every move the Velaryons made. Many people falsely thought dragons were mindless creatures who only wanted to hunt and kill everything that looked like prey. Of course, he believed otherwise. Dragons were intelligent beings, with their own emotions, and capable of making their own decisions. A dragon chose their rider, not the other way around. There were ways to force a dragon to bond, but such ways were forbidden since over a hundred years. Barely anyone knew about them anyway.

No dragon was a mindless killer, they were clever and cunning creatures. They were after all allowing the Targaryens to claim them as mount. Most of them did. Dragons like Sheepstealer, Grey Ghost or the Cannibal were likely to remain riderless. Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost were believed to have hatched from a clutch of one of the Targaryen clutches. But the Cannibals origins were unknown. He lived on the island longer than any other dragon, said to be as old if not older than Balerion himself. The wildest and by far largest of the three wild dragons would never accept a rider, many of Daemon's kin had tried, all ended up as another burned corpse.

Grey Ghost was simply to shy and scared of other beings. The dragon preferred the open sea, where it hunted the fish it loved to eat. Sheepstealer was the dragon Dragonstones habitants saw the most. Sheepstealer got his name from stealing dozens of sheep's from the local farmers. Silverwing and Vermithor, his grandparents mounts rarely left the Dragonmont, but the threat of Vermithor was enough to keep Cannibal away from the eggs. And the four only hatchlings were safe inside the castle. The Cannibal never flew anywhere near the castle, it lived on the opposite side of the island.

"Welcome to the Stepstones good-daughter.", Corlys Voice tore Daemon out of his thoughts. "Lord Corlys.", his niece greeted her good-father courtly. Syrax grumbled low in her throat and nudged Rhaenyra's armoured back. "I am glad we came at the right time.", smiling softly but at the same time reminding the men in front of them who saved them. Clever little dragon. Daemon smirked lightly and relaxed his stance, but he kept his hand on the pommel of his sword. Showing the other man, that one wrong move was enough for him to draw his sword.

"We will prepare tents for both of you my prince, my princess. It won't take much longer. Until then, we would be grateful if you could help us with the negotiations.", Corlys spoke, careful not to make a hysteric move. Hysteric people identified as prey for the two hungry dragons behind them. Though Caraxes and Syrax were not interested in eating humans at the moment. They were to focused on each other. Syrax purred underneath the larger dragon, her head on the ground while Caraxes head was lying on her neck. Rubbing his facial scales on her neck scales. They were barely a few hours apart and Caraxes acted like a love sick puppy. Best to leave these two alone for now. Daemon dropped his arm around Rhaenyra's shoulder, nodding towards Corlys. "Stay as far away from the dragons and leave them alone. They will hunt for themselves.", he informed the others standing around.

Corlys

The Prince was still the sarcastic bastard he always was, normally Corlys would have gone head-to-head with Daemon until one of them had no more insults to throw towards the other. Princess Rhaenyra's presence however made the situation more difficult. Insulting the Kings brother in front of his heir wasn't a good idea. Especially when the two royal dragons stood just a few paces away from the two Targaryen's. Watching Corlys and his kin, attentive to their every move. Dragons were protective by nature, he had learned that lesson the hard way.

None-Targrayen's in the proximity of dragons often ended in death. So it was best to follow the princess command. "If you would follow me to the map, we can discuss the important details there." Following Corlys through the war camp they reached the map Corlys men had built in a short time. Similar to the one Daemon had seen a few years ago in the first war of the Stepstones. "Before we begin the negotiations with the Martells, we would have to know what you want Lord Corlys. Since the Triarchy ran off, only Dorne can be held responsible, but we have to keep in mind, that Dorne was not your main enemy.", princess Rhaenyra spoke, before any of the men could begin arguing. The captive prince and Sword of the morning were with their other men, watched by Corlys most loyal soldiers.

"House Velaryon has invested much into this war. None of my house would accept it, if the crown gets any recognition for a war they have not participated in. We also want the Stepstones. They are a strategic point for trading. We cannot afford to lose it to anyone.", the Head of House Velaryon answered. All the other men present, except Daemon, nodded. "I would name one of my own Lord of the Stepstones to watch over the island.", he added.

Rhaenyra exchanged subtle looks with Daemon, upon which the prince shook his head. "I understand you and your men Lord Corlys. The crown will not gain any recognition, because my father has not agreed to the campaign. However, possession of the Stepstones is another thing. Kingslanding, Dorne and the Three Cities will never allow for one House to hold the Stepstones alone. Especially since it would become complete Westerosi territory should it be integrated into Velaryon possession.", the princess denied.

"What solution would you propose then?", he asked. Knowing nearly none of his trusted advisors would hold back against the princess, it mattered not that she was a royal, she had not fought in the war for months. They would offend the Crown princess, thus offending her dangerous short-tempered uncle. He had lost enough family, he would not lose more to Daemon's sword, because his men unleashed out their frustration on the wrong person.

"We will have to split the Stepstones equally between Dorne and Westeros. Since the Triarchy fled and will not be part of the negotiations, they have no right to it. Not by conquest or otherwise. Nevertheless, no Velaryon will be able to be named Lord over these islands. It will have to be a member of the crown or a noble that is not in known conflict with the crown at the moment.", she answered. "Who would that be, princess?!", Vaemond hissed. "Careful Velaryon. Watch your tone with the Crown princess.", Daemon bared his teeth. "I would propose for daemon to take over the mated of Lordship. He may be on my father's bad side at the moment, however he is a Targaryen prince, brother to the king and has a large battle hardened dragon. No one will truly try anything against him if he holds these islands.", Corlys stopped his brother from speaking further.

And giving the Stepstones to Daemon would make the prince somehow indebted to House Velaryon. "Prince Daemon certainly has the right, he may not have fought months like all of you in this war, but through him House Velaryon secured the Stepstones in last two wars.", Rhaenyra agreed. "We will have to negotiate with Dorne which parts of the Stepstones will be under Westerosi authority and which will be under Dornish authority.", she added.

"And what of Dornes surrender? Should we not asked them to submit their independence?", his youngest nephew Aaron asked. "Dorne will not agree to surrender their independence. We do not have enough leverage for that. They can simply make one of Prince Qorens younger siblings the new ruler should we reassure him into tossing away their hard fought independence. While we want the most advantage out of these negotiations, there is no need to be outright cruel. Dorne is a proud kingdom, as proud as you Velaryon are of your House. Would any of you want to surrender independence your ancestors died for, like you demon the Dornish should?", his good-daughter rebuked.

"They killed my son, your husband, they own us a blood debt princess,", Corlys growled, angry that she seemed to not care about Laenor's murder. "You knew what risk it was to tale Laenor to another war. Despite Seasmoke protection, our history has taught us even dragons cannot protect their riders against everything. I grieve for my husband, because he was my friend and my family and the father of my twins. But I was against him going here, he left anyway. So i will not tolerate you implying that I am not angry about Laenor's death. I am, deeply. But I will not let innocents suffer the consequences of something you could have prevented. You, Lord Corlys are as much at fault, as Prince Qoren. We all known that, do not try to blame someone else entirely for his demise.", his good-daughter replied.

"Watch what you are implying Corlys. Laenor's death was a tragedy, one that could have been avoided. It was his and your own stupidity and greed that got him killed. You want to blame the Martell prince because of a mistake Laenor made. He was distracted by Laena's departure, you never should have let him fly in his condition. Being to emotional is dangerous, being distracted means certain death in war. That Seasmoke is alive is even a wonder. Besides not the scorpion bolt killed your son, a stray arrow did. Like his grandfather in Tarth. You saw my uncle that day yourself, you were present. Just like any other man you could do nothing to save my on lies life. The same happened with your son.", Daemon was as ruthless as ever, but he did not make any sarcastic remarks.

Corlys knew how much Targaryen's valued other Targaryen's. Despite Velaryon being Laenor's surname, he was still part of the Targrayen family. "Enough of this blaming game. If we want to effectively negotiate we should start soon. The sooner the prince is back in Dorne, the better. I doubt that these ships are the whole armada of Dorne.", Rhaenyra interrupted the two, before any argument could arise. "Then we shall start the negations. Daemion, Daeron please get Prince Qoren and Dorian Dayne.", Corlys agreed looking towards his two eldest nephews. "Yes uncle.", both young men made their way to the prisoners, a few minutes later they came back, with the two men.

Qoren

Prince Qoren Martell was sure that the two Velaryons were leading him and Doran to be executed by the Targaryen Prince that had just arrived at the islands. His life was forfeit the moment he had agreed to this cursed campaign. If only he had listened to his sisters and wife's advice instead of his councils. Then they would not be in this situation. His death would trigger another war between Dorne and Westeros.

His sister or brother would ascend as Princess or Prince of Dorne and avenge his death. Or his council would overthrow him in favour of one of his siblings should he accept the terms of surrender. Without a doubt the Velaryons would demand Dorne to throw away their independence. Something he would never agree to. He would rather die, so would any other soldier who accompanied him. Though he was sure he would not go back home, at least not alive. Corlys Velaryon would want revenge for his son. Not that one of Dorne's scorpions killed the heir to Driftmark, he suspected one of the Triarchy's stray arrows killed him, or he drowned after his dragon fell into the sea. Either way Qoren would be held responsible and would have to live with the consequences.

The two young Velaryons stopped in front of a map formed like a table. Surrounding it were Velaryon looking men. All except two individual looked like the Sea Snakes relatives. Prince Daemon Targaryen, dressed in black armour, his legendary sword Dark Sister strapped to his side, stood relaxed next to a gorgeous silver gold haired woman. Qoren knew now who the yellow-golden beast belonged to that slammed into his ship. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen stood in front of him. Wife to the late Laenor Velaryon. If the Lord of Driftmark wouldn't kill him, then the Princess would.

"I do not think the robs will be needed Lord Corlys. This is not an execution but negotiations. We will not treat a Dornish Prince and a Dormish noblemen like common captives.", she remarked her purple eyes flashing dangerously. The Sea Snake motioned for the two men to take off the robes.

"Prince Qoren Martell. I think introductions will not be necessary. You know who I am, and I am aware who you are. This discussion is a negotiation between the Velaryons, represented by Lord Corlys, Dorne, represented by you and Ser Dayne, and the Crown, represented by Prince Daemon and me.", the Princess looked him straight in the eye. Qoren always prided himself to be a person who could read other's intentions quite easily. He could not see anything besides honesty and wariness in her eyes. A woman of her status was easily seen as only a decorative for their husband, despite her being a known dragonrider since the age of seven namedays. Princess rhaenyra was Westeros crowned heir and the potential first Queen Regnant in her own right. But even Dorne had heard about the two factions, that were fighting about the succession.

“What are your term's princess?”, he asked, deliberately only directing his question towards her. While her uncle was still relaxed next to her, the Velaryon looked offended at being forgotten. Qoren was petty enough to ignore them the whole time, Velaryon had been a pain in his ass for years. First they wanted a marriage between him and their Lady Laena, Lord Corlys had been quite insistent, when he visited Sunspear. Then they wanted their support in fighting the Triarchy, without any good terms. The Velaryon would have taxed Dorne as high as everyone else if they used the trading routes.

“We wish to discuss peace terms. You have raised white flags and signalled the end of the war. Your partners have fled with their tails between their legs. Thus, in my eyes, they have lost the privilege to negotiate anything regarding the Stepstones. I am well aware why you sided with these pirates and I cannot understand your reasons. But actions gave consequences, for everyone.”, the princess started to explain. He could swear he saw Lord Corlys flinch at her last sentence. “Please elaborate your term's princess. We did not wish for flowery words. Besides the Stepstones are none of your business.”, Doran looked at her in disdain, which promptly got him an angered look from Daemon Targaryen. The rumours regarding those two seemed to be right, the Targaryen man would now be firmly on the Crown princess side, in whatever conflict would arise in the future.

“I apologize for not getting to the point straight away. I will be Frank with you two. You are prisoners. Over a quarter of your army and ships are ash, the rest wounded and captured like you. The crown has not done anything, but as representative of the Crown I intervened in this conflict between Dorne, the Triarchy and the Velaryon. These islands became my business as soon as my husband stepped foot on them. It became my war the moment he drowned in the sea after Seasmoke was brought down by one of your scorpions and after being struck by one of your allies arrow. My husband is dead, my children will never know their father thanks to this conflict. So, Ser Dayne, the Stepstones are very much my business.”, she responded, her tone sharp and cutting like a sword.

Ashamed Doran bowed his head, his face red with shame. “Both you and my Velaryon kin seem to have forgotten, that all of Westeros is my business. I am the heir to the Throne, the Stepstones are a problem to all the habitants of Westeros. Therefore, I am done watching from the sidelines. I realize for all of you it is hard to listen to me a woman, who only fought in a tale yesterday for the first time. But you forget that I have a dragon. If I wanted all of you would be ash, before any of you could draw your swords. I will say this once. While I lay out the terms of the pace agreement, no one will cut me off or interrupt me! Am I understood?” “Yes princess.”, the chorus of men answered.

“Wonderful, first of all both sides have suffered heavy losses. There is no need for more casualties. All prisoners will be released and are allowed to sail back to their home. Secondly both House Martell and House Velaryon have lost much gold because of this senseless war. Since the Triarchy has left behind a large amount of valuable goods and gold, it will be split fairly between Dorne and the Velaryon. How each faction splits their gold with their soldiers is something each of you will have to figure out for themselves.”, she proceeded. Then nodded at her uncle, who continued.

“Thirdly the possession of the Stepstones in themselves will be spilt equally between both of you as well. Each of you will appoint a Lord, a lady or a castellan to watch over the part of the Stepstones belonging to you. What you do with your parts is of no consequence to us, however we insist upon watchtowers and should the Triarchy return, Dorne’s promise not to ally with them again. And instead ally with whoever holds dominion over the other part sags it our common enemy.” Qoren could se that both had thought a lot about it. While the Velaryon looked rather unhappy with the arrangements, they did not dare to offend the royals in any way.

“Fourthly once the situation stabilizes, the two sides will once again set to discuss taxes. Neither of us will accept high taxes from the other. Taxes may be necessary, but the whole Stepstones will be taxed in the same manner. Should any side raise the taxes consequences will follow. Before taxes are established and approved by both parties, no trade ship will be taxed here.”, the prince finished. The terms were help simple and solid.

Truthfully it surprised Qoren, that neither the princess nor the princes demanded Dorne’s obedience. “My princess, if I may, I would like to add a condition.”, Lord Corlys spoke. The Targaryen female motioned for him to speak. “Originally I wanted Dornes submission, but after Prince daemon’s and your arguments persuaded me otherwise, I wish for the plans of the scorpions.” “You are walking on thin ice, Velaryon.”, Daemon Targaryen hissed, in the distance a shrill whistle like roar rang out. “I hope you know what exactly you are asking Lord Corlys. The Council could take that as an attempt of treason.”, softly the princess warned.

“Giving you the plans of our scorpions would be a disadvantage for us. The gods know what you would do with them Velaryon.”, Doran scoffed. “Watch your tone Dornish cunt.”, a younger Velaryon spat. “How about, once both parties built their stronghold, each will be equipped with scorpions of their own. I cannot give important plans of weapons like that out on a wimp. I am the Prince of Dorne, Lord Corlys. Giving you these plans is a risk to my home. A condition I cannot agree to.”, Qoren countered. “Martells suggestion is sound, I would have thought you to be more clever, Sea Snake.” It seemed Prince daemon and Lord Corlys were on each other’s bad side, information that could be essential later on.

“They murdered my son!”, Qorens enemy raged. “As you would have done, if your situation had been reversed.”, the princess rebuked. Once again Qoren was glad his wife was only now pregnant and that his child was not a grown man, who could follow him into battle. Losing a child was horrible something he did not want to experience. “War is war, Lord Corlys. I respected Ser Laenor as a fellow warrior, but his death was a casualty of war. Had prince Daemon been there in his stead, we would have done the same.”, Qoren looked into Corlys Sea green eyes. “As if I would have let someone sneak up on me.”, Daemon Targaryen murmured something in his ancestor's language. The princess responded in the same language, her tone sounded scolding. “Enough, kepus. Do not insult the dead. We are trying to make peace, not more enemies.”

“Once again. We are not forcing Dorne to submit, if the Crown had been involved, we would be having a different kind of conversation. Since this war has nothing to do with the King, except for me being here, there is no need for you to give up your independence.” The not yet remained unsaid but all Dornish who were present heard it loud and clear. During the course of the negotiations a few of his commanders were brought as well.

“Do you have any conditions Prince Qoren.”, he was positively surprised by the princess. Instead of forcing them to accept unfair terms or generally forcing them to accept terms, she asked for his opinion. She was not only thinking of the advantage her good-father’s House could get. But also of consequences and how greater casualties could be prevented. “I do indeed. I request a temporary truce. Until every wounded on both sides are safely on their way back no weapon will be raised on either side. My people will be allowed to repair the ships that can be saved, which will be used to get my people home.”

He took a breath before continuing. “Secondly I wish for a clear and undeniable border between the two differ to territories that you proposed princess. A border that cannot be changed. Thirdly I want all terms to be written down in a contract, signed by Lord Corlys, me and exclusive witnesses. Should the contact broken in any way, the other party will be allowed to retaliate, and the contract will cease to have importance.” “Who shall be the witnesses?”, prince Daemon asked a bit sceptic. “Doran, you Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenyra and one of my commanders.” “Very well.”

“Furthermore, I want a written and signed promise, that House Velaryon will not try to invade Dornish territory in any kind of way. I am turning my back on the Triarchy, which makes me their enemy, thus I do not want to have to deal with two possible invasions from two different sides. And lastly any dragons flying over Donrish skies, without any notice beforehand will be treated as an enemy and delta with accordingly. Same with any ships, that not have been previously announced.” The princess turned her face towards her uncle and her good-father. Her eyebrow most likely raised in questions.

“I have to say, you are clever for a young man. We will never be friends, but as much as you have no choice I also have none but to agree. We all are exhausted and finished with this war. I will sign a contract.”, Lord Corlys agreed after a long while with utter silence. A look from the Sea Snake silenced any possible coma points from his relatives. “Then I agree to the conditions as well.”, Qoren agreed, after sharing meaningful looks with Doran and his commanders. Neither party was truly happy, but continue fighting the war, now that the Targaryens got involved would be dumb. So all of them gritted their teeth, swallowed their anger and agreed.

“Wonderful, now to the last point before the contract will be written. The territories. The closest to Dorne would be the Grey Gallows. These should rightfully belong to you. As well as the islands behind these waters and the island in the middle of the Stepstones. Westeros will get Bloodstone and the surrounding islands that share a border with Tyrosh.” The smaller but more defendable islands would belong to Dorne, their border was shared with the disputed lands. A bit unfair, but the Targaryens had won the war, so he could not really complain. He confirmed it with a nod. “Only fair.”, Doran sighed. While his friend deeply disliked House Targaryen, a trait many Dornish people shared, he could admit when a situation could not get any worse. “The contract will be finished and presented by you tomorrow.”

The negotiations were finished, so Qoren and his fellow Dornishmen were once again placed under heavy guard. Only after the contract was signed, would any of his enemies trust them enough to let them go. He would do the same. It seemed Dorne had got away relatively easy, but the true complicate matters would only behind to show up once he was back home in Dorne. Already hundreds of thought flew through his head. Who he would appoint as Lord or lady or castellan. Who he should send back here and what to do with the territory Dorne was granted. While at first he had prayed to Mother Rhoynar not to send the Velaryon help, he was glad that one level-headed person came to defuse the situation. Though Dorne would have won, if the Targaryens had not interfered. A victory that would not have lasted long. Should the Velaryon have failed to secure the Stepstones, the Triarchy and his people would have raised taxes for Westerosi ships, the Targaryens would have to do something. In the end all of them got away with bruised egos and devastating loses.

Chapter Text

Wandering alone in the darkness of night, with only moonlight as company was maybe not the best idea, while being on unknown territory. But Rhaenyra could no longer tolerate being stuck in the tent of her late husband. It was as if Lord Corlys wanted to remind her who she had married. Had she not been the Crown princess he would have insisted her surname and that of her children was Velaryon. She had taken her cousin Rhaenys as example, who was still called Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, despite being married to Lord Corlys for decades. She would not let her greedy good-father undermine her in the realms eyes. Rhaenyra was aware that he would not see it as undermining her, but simply following tradition.

Most women took their husband's name after marrying. Two exceptions however strengthened her resolve. Rhaenys and her own mother's. Rhaenys was mostly called Targaryen, but sometimes also Targaryen-Velaryon, similar to her mother who kept her Arryn surname and only added Targaryen. Both women were half Targaryen, Rhaenys had grown up ad one and was attached to her name. Rhaenyra's mother grew up as an Arryn and was attached to her surname.

She herself had grown up as a Targaryen and would never give up her name for any man. But regarding her children she had to give Baelon the Velaryon surname, he was Laenor's heir, now Corlys. Aerion on the other hand was her firstborn and the heir to the Iron Throne. Of course, she had also called him a Targaryen from the beginning to spite quite a few people. Laenor had found it amusing and let her do it. Her late-husband was a unique man, kind-hearted and not made for court at all or having any ambitions for the throne. Despite having Rhaenys and Corlys as his parent.

The moon was highlighting the tents and small fires a few soldiers were gathered around. Slipping through the paths between the tents was easy enough. Only her silver golden hair was betraying her. After being unable to find proper rest she had dressed herself fin her riding leathers again and decided to go see Syrax. Her dragon was as awake as she was, already waiting for her. Soon she reached the hill where Caraxes and Syrax were resting. Syrax greeted her with a chirp and lifted her head. Caraxes only grumbled opened one eye to see who was coming ads closed it again. He knew Rhaenyra's and had no qualms with letting his mate's rider near her, but he was grumpy that his seep was disturbed.

The princess chuckled lightly at the picture the two dragons made. Caraxes, red and black, larger than her golden Lady was lying on top of the she-dragon. His wings draped over hers and his head was resting on her shoulder. Their tails on top of each other. It looked like he had tried to cover as much of his mate as possible. Syrax had, which most likely rested under Caraxes wing moments ago, was the only part he was not lying on. Her dragon stretched her neck and blew smoky air in her face. Chirping and cooing at her. "Rytsas Syrax. Did I wake you up?", Rhaenyra greeted her with a smile and stroked her scales. Leaning her head against Syrax snout she sighed deeply. "I miss my sons so much. I know I am doing this to protect them, but I was never parted from them before." Syrax was perhaps the only one who could understand her pain, her dragon was also far away from her first two hatchlings. The nameless baby dragons that hatched for her sons.

A low whine escaped Syrax throat, a noise full of sorrow and worry. Her dragons felt her pain and she felt her pain. Both of them missed their hatchlings. While dragons were independent creatures from early on, these two were Syrax first ones. Whenever she had time she would take the two to their dam, sometimes her dragon would allow sleep in the castle roof near her son's nursery. For most, it was easy to dismiss a dragon's own emotions. Many saw them only as destructive weapons used in war. But Rhaenyra did not share those opinions. Dragons were beautiful, majestic creatures, who felt similar emotions to humans. A mother would always be a mother.

Rhaenyra would do anything for her children, that was why to a certain amount she could understand Alicent's doing. She wanted to secure her children's future and positions. But that came at the cost of Rhaenyra's and her children's lives, something that was unacceptable for the Princess.

Stroking her dragons scales lovingly, Rhaenyra could forget the world around her for a short time. Everyone around her had expectations of her, even Daemon did, only Syrax would never judge her for anything. She was the sole being that would always be in her side. Syrax blew smoke in her face, as if she wanted to distract her rider from her thoughts. Focused on her dragon, Rhaenyra did not hear the footsteps coming her way.

"Here you are Princess.", a deep, masculine voice rang out behind her. Startled, she turned around and stumbled over her own feet. Strong arms caught her and Syrax snout steadied her. Hands on Syrax scales she looked up, to see Daemon standing behind her, his head slightly lowered. "You should be more aware of your surrounding little niece. What if I had been an assassin?", he scolded her. Softly snorting Rhaenyra freed herself from his embrace, he let her, keeping one of his hands on her shoulder the other on his sword.

"Syrax would have noticed them and protected me from an assassin. Who would be idiotic enough to try to hurt me while I am with her?", she answered confidently. "Even a dragon cannot protect you from everything Rhaenyra.", Daemon warned her, his expression serious. "I have a dragon, I am a famously good swordsman, nevertheless assassins have come after me. You are a much easier target than me. I am honestly surprised the Hightowers have not already sent one after you.", shaking his head he stared at her. "Did you come to scold me for my naivety uncle? Or what do you want?", she snapped. The last weeks Daemon was going around her nearly in tiptoes. She suspected he wanted to talk to her about the future, but could not find the right words nor time. Rhaenyra was aware she had flaws and was young still. By the Fourteen she was the crown Princess, but it seemed her former lady in waiting had better political skills than she did. She knew she was a coward for not truly fighting back, but she didn't know what she was doing. Unlike Alicent she had no help in form of a political clever father, who had the same goal as her. To make Aegon heir and King over her.

"We have to talk.", he commented. "About what?", she replied, looking away from him, focusing on Syrax again. Caraxes had woken up by now and muzzled Daemon. "About many things I wager.", he answered. It was not often that Daemon sounded serious, at least regarding talking about important things or feelings. She knew her uncle hated expressing himself with words. He was the type to show his affection through gestures not many words. The complete opposite of her father. Viserys always spoke volumes about how much he loved her, but his actions said otherwise. "Then talk. I am listening." "Rhaenyra.", he called sternly. "What? You want to talk, then do it."

Still not prepared to face him and his captivating eyes, she refused to turn around. "I think this we should have this conversation away from any ears that might want to eavesdrop." Rhaenyra flushed bright red, understanding his meaning. He was right the Velaryons soldiers were far away but in the dark it was hard to see everything. "Where would you like to speak?", she asked. "The main beach, Caraxes and Syrax can keep Seasmoke company while we talk." For a short moment she thought about it and then nodded. Only now did she realize he also wore his riding leathers. It seemed he was either aware she was here or that he had wanted to go on a night flight with Caraxes.

The two Targaryen's climbed in their dragons, after they managed to get Caraxes untangled from Syrax. Without any need for a command both rose into the sky with a few strong beats of their wings. It did not take long for them to reach the beach, but they refrained from landing, before Seasmoke stopped roaring loudly. They landed away from the injured dragon, Seasmoke was a relatively calm dragon, but in his wounded state he was unpredictable. Both riders dismounted, their dragons lying down again, though Caraxes kept his eye on Seasmoke, while Syrax went back to sleep. This time curling up under his larger wings. Her wings head tucked under her tail and wing. The she-dragon was not used to fighting and was exhausted. She required time to recover from flying such a large distance. And who could fault her for feeling content on spending time with her mate, away from shatter of Vermithor and Silverwing.

"What do you think uncle, will he recover?", Rhaenyra asked when they both sat down on the beach, keeping enough distance so they would not invoke Seasmoke's wrath. "I am not sure. There is no Maester to check his injuries. As far as Corlys informed me he has barely done anything but lying around here and eating fish that the Velaryons provide him with. The extension of his injury is unknown. It could be infected already.", he shook his head. "Can we transport him to Dragonstone? The Keepers there will surely know how to help him.", she proposed. "I don't think so. Caraxes cannot carry him alone, and I am quite certain he will not let any ropes near him. Besides his injury is most likely in a place that would not allow us to transport him, even if he would not try to kill us.", he declined.

"Could the keepers come here to treat him?" "That would be more possible. I will ask Corlys to send a raven ti Dragonstone and ask the keepers to come. We can only hope he will live until they reach the Stepstones." "I wish we could do more.", she sighed. "That is the nature of the world niece. Life blooms and life ends one day. The world is more brutal and primal than you might think." "I know that uncle.", she snapped, offended that he thought her to be completely unaware. "Do you truly?", the meaning of his tone was not lost to her, he sounded sceptical.

"Do you think me so ignorant?", she asked, insulted that he seemed to think she knew nothing about the real world. She had learned it the hard way, she knew she had grown up sheltered by her family, but that shell was no longer there. Ripped away from her when her mother and brother died. When her father married her former friend and had a child with her. Weakening her claim drastically. Rhaenyra knew she had to do something, but all these years alone and undermined left her a shell of herself. Her dragon fire weakened, her courage small. While Alicent grew more confident, she grew more desperate and scared.

"I am going to be honest with you Rhaenyra. You will never hear anything but the truth from me, even if you will not like what I have to say. You were sheltered by us, perhaps too much. We did prepare you enough for the world. Your parents were absent more often than not, and I got myself banished multiple times. Ser Harrold was perhaps the only true constant you had in your life, he and Syrax. Even that Hightower whore was not permanent in your life. Your education was lacking from the beginning. You were taught by Maesters and Septa's to lead a household and be a good wife. Maybe important things, but you should have learned more.", he began. "Are you calling me incompetent?", she huffed angered.

"No, I would call it unfortunate. We en-suites you but we also failed you Princess. We should have seen to it that you are prepared for life at court. You rarely had lessons in anything other than embroidery, knowing each house and their words, and how to behave like a woman. I loved my cousin and I love your father, but both were idiots to let your education be handled by the Maesters solely. I am sure Otto had influence over them and forbade them from teaching you many things. He kept you isolated, with his daughter as your only lady in waiting, and Viserys let him. I aware that you are trying to compensate that, but you have to live with what you have. And you have to play the cards you possess. Alicent is better prepared than you, because she had ambitions her whole life, I sincerely doubt she wanted to be your true friend. She has Otto at her back, and as loathed I am to praise him, he has a political mind. She is more his puppet but won't stay that forever.", his rant continued.

"What would you have me do then uncle? How should I correct my misgivings and errors?", she asked, half angered, half serious. Nothing he had said so far was false. She knew it deep down, but it hurt. All her life her parents had simple let her be raised by others, her mother had tried more than her father to be there for her, but the former Queen could only do so much in her constantly weak position. King Jaehaerys daughters had large household, many lessons even on subjects more suited for men, in the eyes of Andals.

They were being educated to become clever ladies that could survive the pit of snakes that was the Red Keep. Her father's blindness had sabotaged her from the beginning. And in the years she had been married to Laenor she learned all could, but her time was spent with trying to navigate court life, navigate the rumours around Laenor and herself and care for her children. Who knew how long she could have endured Alicent's constant torture and pressure. She was a coward for leaving and wanting to stay away. The Red Keep was her childhood home, but instead of staying and fighting she let herself be chased out of it by the Greens. Syrax had woken up, when she felt her riders inner turmoil. Rhaenyra's emotional chaos reflecting inside her. Roars and whines from the golden lady were enough to make Daemon partially understand what was going on inside his niece. Maybe he should not have brought everything up at once.

"You have two ways to go forward in life Princess. Once you give up and live in fear of the greens someday coming for your heads and those of your children. Or two you start to fight back. Make relationships with the other houses, build your influence, ask for help from trustworthy people. From family. You alone have two major Kingdom's behind you. The Arryn's through your mothers blood and the norths because of their honour. Everything else you will have to work for. It won't help you to keep your head low or act submissive. You are a Dragon Rhaenyra, be one.", Daemon answered, his violet eyes pricing hers.

"Who can I trust? Alicent's betrayed me easily, maybe she did not want to marry my father, but now she certainly enjoys the power that she gains from it." "Hightower's are snakes who want more than they deserve. They are bitter because House Targaryen made them a minor House after the Conquest. They once were Kings and in their opinion the world should bow before them. You will not be able to change anything if you decide to continue hiding your true self. They are sheep, niece. We are dragons. They should fear us, not the other way around.", he said, softly gripping her shin and forcing her to look at him.

"Ask Rhaella and Vaegon to come to Dragonstone. Both are still alive and lived in Oldtown for years, they are smart and have knowledge of what is going on there. Oldtown and the Hightowers are a lost cause, they will be firmly behind Aegon's ascension. But others Houses are yet undecided or able to be persuaded. Even if they decide to choose the wrong faction you can have hostages within your household. Many will see it as an honour to be part of the Crown Princess household. As much as I hate to say it, you will have to somehow get along with Rhaenys a bit. She is smart and was raised for court by her father and mother. With her the chance for the Baratheon's to support you is higher. The Velaryons will follow you if Corlys follows you. And unlike my cousin he knows the twins are Laenor's sons, as unbelievable as it is to many.", while he spoke what she definitely had to hear, it was hurtful to hear that even he knew just how much of a coward she had become.

"You must think low of me.", she murmured. Her pain at that thought receipted by Syrax low rumble. "What?", he asked confused leaning down a bit to see her expression better, the dim moonlight was of no help. Irritated the Blood Wyrm shrieked. "The niece you so adored has become more like the sheep you despise." "Is that what you think I meant?" Crooking his head he looked questionably at her. Displeased at being misunderstood. "What else am I supposed to think?" "I'm trying to help you see reason Rhaenyra. By the gods I love you more than anything else, and I hate not being able to say it or prove it properly. I know I hurt you beyond anything. I broke your trust more often than most, I left time and time again in my own accord. You think of me as a man who will abandon you in the future. I want to prove you otherwise. But I cannot fight the war over your succession alone. You yourself will have to want to fight for your claim, otherwise nobody else will be compelled to do the same. Having confidence in yourself creates confidence in yourself cause. The Greens are a step ahead, but they have not won the war. And they won't if you begin to fight back."

Shocked at his confession she shut her mouth and stared at him. "Sometimes you are as oblivious like your father. I am the worst of all man, I am a murderer of thousands and I will kill thousands more if you ask me to. Viserys won the Great Council not only because he was a man, but because I defended his claim instead of Rhaenys'. I defended his claim and I will defend yours, if you let me.", by now his tone had grown desperate and pleading. "Daemon I...I don't know what to say...or to do.", she whispered, her fingers clutching the fabric of his riding leathers.

"Then don't say anything. Just consider what I said.", he answered, trying to get up, but her body prevented him from doing so. "Rhaenyra?", he asked quietly. "I am scared uncle. For my life and that of my boys. Alicent and her father hate me, her children will grow up to hate me and see me as a villain. Father does nothing as if he cannot see watch they are doing. And I am sabotaging my own claim through my fear. I don't know who to trust or what to do. I never learned, I am scared that it's too late.", Rhaenyra began sobbing in her uncles arms. For the first time since her mother's death she cried openly. Her tears streaming down her cheeks. The yellow-golden dragon hatched in her cradle was not amused that her riders mate had made her precious Rhaenyra cry. Lifting herself if the ground she growled in his direction, showing teeth and sparks. Smoke rose from her nostrils. If it weren't for Caraxes distracting his mate, and voicing his own irritation, she would have done more than she not snap at him. While Syrax tolerated and liked him more than anyone save for her rider, she was not particular happy about anyone who made her rider cry.

Wordlessly Daemon pressed her body against his, shielding her from the cold sea breeze. Ignoring their roaring dragons. The two seemed to have their own conversation. Seasmoke in the other hand remained silent for now and seemed to sleep. Soothed by the presence of two other dragons, despite the two seemingly arguing with each other. His niece practically sat on his lap, but right now he had no other intentions but to comfort her. Rhaenyra buried her face in the crock of his neck, trying to hide her tears/ Humming soothingly next to her ear, he began stroking her hair and massaging her tense neck. Slowly her muscles relaxed, her sobbing grew quiet. Still keeping her head on his shoulder her breath relaxed more even with each minute that passed.

Deciding to finish the conversation another time he remained silent, but this time his niece seemed to be the one to continue. "Uncle?", she asked, it came out a bit hoarsely. Her tears had dried on her cheeks, her eyes were still watery, red, swollen and puffy, but her expression was determined. "Yes, little dragon?" "You said you would always tell me the truth.", she began, stopping then, uncertainty flashing in her eyes. "I intend to, yes.", he confirmed. "I have three questions. I want you to answer them." "Go ahead." "How would you have dealt with the Dornish?", it surprised him, that she asked for his opinion on that matter. True he had wanted to scold her for being to soft, but waited for the right opportunity to bring it up.

"I would have killed most of them. Executed the Prince to make an example out of him. Along with the Sword of the morning. There would have been no survivors, if I had been the one to decide. They willingly supported the Triarchy. And while their allies may have fled, they are as much to blame for what happened as the Triarchy is. Daring to rise against Westeros, attacking a trading route, enslaving our people and being partially responsible for Laenor's death. I cannot say, that I was fond of him or liked your husband, sooner or later I would have removed him somehow, but him being killed by our enemies is something I cannot tolerate. For killing Laenor and injuring Seasmoke, a Targaryen dragon, alone they should have suffered great consequences.", he was honest, brutally so. Never while he answered, did he break eye contact with his niece.

"You understand why I did not kill the rest of them. Why I am letting them sail home and why I am granting them part of the Stepstones regardless of your very different judgment, don't you?", she asked a follow-up question. "Yes, you think owning all the Stepstones would be a risk, we cannot take. Yet at least. Later when we are stronger, have more support, we would be able to do so. Now our only allies in this war are the Velaryon forces. Who are exhausted and unmotivated. They would not hold the island long against the might of Dorne and the Free Cities and the Fourteen knows who else. I might disagree, but yes I understand. But you left them too easily of the hock.", Daemon replied.

"After you left to take the prisoners back to the others, I spoke with Lord Corlys. His thoughts align with yours. I admit I was to line at. We agreed upon something. The Dornish were going to get their share of the gold, but seeing as they are responsible for many damages and robbed my sons of their father, they will not get any riches or gold that the Triarchy left behind. All will be decided equally between House Velaryon and us. Additionally, they will have to pay for the ships Lord Corlys lost. Which should leave their treasure quite empty and them unable to repair their navy. So we will most likely not hear from them for years to come."

"Clever, not bloody enough for me, but that should hurt their pride a lot. I assume you did tell the prince and he had no choice to agree." "I didn't, I granted our former good-father that honour. Never saw him smile so smugly. Apart from when Aerion and Baelon were born.", she snorted, amused at remembering that. "I can live with that punishment. But next time, I will not sit back and just burn them all.", the tone he used was warning. "Should a next time occur, I will not stop you."

"Your second question?", he encouraged her. "Did you poison Laena?", it shocked him how she would ask something like that, but his niece was always clever. Back when he had delivered the news, he had not seemed surprised, but pleased. Oh well, there his secret went. "The Sea Snake had his spies in my household, though none lasted long and all were terribly at their jobs, I also had my own in his and in Laena's companions and favourites. That's how I know that child could not be mine and how I found out just how many lovers she entertained. Pretending they were me." "You did not answer my question, uncle.", stubbornly waiting for an answer, Rhaenyra crossed her arms underneath her breasts. By the Flames it was hard enough to concentrate around her already, she only made it worse.

Remaining silent for a few passing moments he met her eyes again. Red and a bit puffy, but now dry of any tears. Now that her rider was calm, Syrax had also settled down again. But the she-drown kept a wary eye on the rider of her mate. "I had one of my spies do it. Small doses, an undetectable poison, that causes hallucination, fever and can drive a person to madness." It was fortunate, that they had this conversation in High Valyrian. Hold anyone overheard them, they would have to deal with a massive headache. But speaking their ancestors tongue was without any risks, Corlys and the other Velaryon neglected their Valyrian lessons, and they were far away. "I suspected as much.", sighting she massaged her temple. "At least you could have used poison that killed, instead of it driving her to madness." "Where would the fun have been in that?", he retorted. "What if she comes back, cured and seeking vengeance?", worry filled his niece's eyes. "Trust me she won't. Vhagar is old and has her own head. I do not think wherever they land will be a welcoming place." "Can you predict the future now, uncle?", disbelieve laving her voice. "No, my intuition is just good." "If you say so."

"Have I answered your question to your satisfaction?", he asked. "Yes, now to my last...", hesitating a bit, Rhaenyra began twisting the ring on her left hand. A habit she had since her childhood. Always doing so, when she was nervous about something. "The Velaryons are of the sea, we are born from fire. My sons are more dragons than sailors. I know Lord Corlys will support my two boys, because he wants his blood and name to live on. But he is not us. His support I am sure of, but now I ask for yours." Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him again, still sitting on his lap. "I cannot face the greens alone. I learned that in the years I tried to face them on my own. Do I have your support, kepus? Do my sons have it?" The fear of him denying her his support was evident in her tone.

Daemon had truly not anticipated how much trust she had lost in him, but he should not be surprised. Half her life he was away, banished or because he could no longer stand Westeros. Being away for weeks on end, bringing her gifts to make up for lost time. He was ashamed to admit that truth to himself. Daemon would never completely change, he was a monster to many, but for his niece, for her, he could try to be better. "It is my own fault that you doubt my support sweet dragon. I never pledge my fealty to you, to busy fighting a war.", he began, carefully coxing her to stand in front of him. Kneeling before her, he locked eyes with her. "I Daemon Targaryen swear by the Fourteen Flames, that I will protect and fight for your claim. I pledge my sword, my dragon, and my life to your cause. I am yours to command as you please. May our gods strike me down, should I break this oath." "Rise Ser Daemon.", his niece's lovely voice thick with tears, ordered him.

Rising to his feet, hovering over her and waiting. "Thank you Daemon. I will trust in your word.", she whispered, shyly smiling at him. "I will never disappoint you again.", he swore. A nod was his only answer. "I will have to marry again, kepus. Now that Laenor is dead, my father will demand that I choose another consort, to secure my claim. To accept a woman on the throne will be hard enough, but a widow, who refused to wed again, many will rise against me." Despite them being far away from prying ears, they continue having their conversation in High Valyrian. The Rouge Prince was glad, that her fluency had returned, and they once again spoke exclusively High Valyrian with each other.

"Do you have someone in mind, princess?", he asked, tilting his head curiously, his heart skipping a beat in hope. "Do not play the fool, Daemon. I will not marry before the mourning period is over. I own it to Laenor to at least respect him in death.", sternly staring him down, made him put his hands up in mock surrender. In his opinion Rhaenyra did not own Laenor a thing, but he would not anger her now. "All unmarried men will try to woo me, to gain power through me." "Natural, you are the most beautiful woman in Westeros and heir to the Throne. But you have two heirs, whatever children you would have will be behind them in the line of succession.", he commented lightly, which made her smile.

"I do not think all of them realize that, unlike you." "Are you asking me to marry you?", he wondered. "No, I am asking you to help me pick my next consort.", she replied, of course an obvious lie. A challenge then. "Challenge be accepted, princess.", he bowled like a dragon. "I have no idea how that is a challenge, kepus, but be my guest.", grinning at him, when she began to walk towards their dragons.

She would regret that. His heart was beating fast, but for the first time in many years feeling lighter than ever before. His future always seemed to be filled with blood and the desperation to prove himself to Viserys. Abandoning that goal, made room for another. To finally be able to life with Rhaenyra by his side. Being the sword and shield she needed. Caraxes, his ever loyal mount echoed his hearts desires. Rhaenyra waited for him at Syrax side. Now saying more, but seeking his company. He knew she had reservations about marriage in the first place, he was determined to show her the joy of being married to him. But only if she willingly agreed. Both of them had endured a marriage for purely political reasons, he would not subject her to another one. Which was why he would prove to her, that no other man besides him was a good candidate. In sync, they mounted their dragons and left Seasmoke alone once more, returning to the slowly waking war camp.

A week passed faster than they realized. The Dornish were unhappy with the changed terms, but growls from Caraxes and Syrax shut them up rather quickly. With their tails between their legs, they were sent home, with many lost ships, many lost lives and their egos badly bruised. The Triarchy had fled back to Essos, humiliated and defeated, the cowards had betrayed the Dornish and left them to deal with the consequences themselves. Corlys was melancholic and as annoying as ever. But not as annoying as his younger brother Vaemond. The arrogant Velaryon thought him to be above anyone and wanted more treasure than he deserved. Rhaenyra had to stop Daemon from executing him more than once in the short week they lived on the Stepstones.

Dividing the treasure among them was not easy, they argued many hours until they found a solution that pleased most of them. Both royals received their share and left the rets to the Velaryons. After all Corlys had poured many funds into this war and would have to replace the gold he invested. The repair cost for the ships would after all be covered by Dorne. After the issue of the treasures was resolved, Rhaenyra and Daemon began talking about how to stabilize and secure the Stepstones. Together with a raven to Dragonstone for the Dragonkeepers, he had sent along instructions for Maester Geradys for more letters to be written and delivered.

To friends and allies in the Free Cities and Pentos. Architects and other workers, so the construction of watchtowers and other safety measures could begin as soon as possible. Daemon was wealthier than many people imagined. After Rhea's death he was paid much gold by her kin to refrain from claiming their land, so as compensation they emptied their treasure. The sum of gold he received would leave a permanent dent in both in the Royce's and in the Arryn's covers for over a decade or even two decades.

The gold he had would be wisely to build constructions on the islands and pay the workers. To make the Stepstones a place where people could live, it would take much time and effort. But Daemon had plans for the islands, so he would invest the needed time and effort. He was relived to finally fly back to Dragonstone, once all Velaryons, save a few dozen to watch over the constructions until the sell swords and friend he had hired arrived to take over that, and Dornish left on their ships. Rhaenyra's and his share of the treasure would be transported by Corlys to Dragonstone. They would get it soon enough, Laneor's death had shaken Corlys, he needed time to recover, and he would have to tell his wife their son was dead. If she had not already got the news.

They flew home with more stops this time. Last time they had been in a hurry. Every minuted was important. It could decide between life and death. They paused from time to time on the way but only to allow Rhaenyra and Syrax to rest. Otherwise, they would not be able to fight properly. An exhausted dragon and rider would be much easier targets. And more likely to get killed. While they did not think anyone would be going to attack them on their way home, they were cautious and flew above the clouds. Only flying down occasionally. Spotting only one ship, with the three-headed-dragon flag, most likely form Dragonstone. It transported the Dragonkeepers that would tend to Seasmoke. They landed two in front of Dragonstone two days after their departure from the Stepstones. All four of them were happy to be back. Syrax and Caraxes immediately went to the caves, the Dragonkeepers could not give them their three remaining eggs back fast enough. Caraxes nearly ate two Dragonkeepers alive, but they were used to his temperament.

Rhaenyra had not even changed, instead she went directly to her children. Only after Daemon coaxed her into having a bath, while the babes had their nap. After that they spent the rest of the day they arrived, with the children and the four hatchlings. All of them eager to have the two Targaryen's attention. The four baby dragons had grown a few inches, still unable to breathe fire thankfully. Their bite however hurt, an experience Daemon had made twice now. Her sons liked him, but their hatchlings seemed to highly prefer Rhaenyra to him. Many things had to be prepared for the celebration in two moons, but his niece was happy to leave planning behind for a few hours, because she had missed her children terribly.

Evident in how little she had slept. Only sleeping a few hours each night, not even his company could distract her from her worry. Only now holding her sons and watching her wards, being assured nothing happened by her ladies-in-waiting, their guards and the Maesters and Dragonkeepers as well, made her finally calm down a little. Now she should be able to sleep soundly again.

Chapter Text

Two moons passed in a blur. The day after their arrival back on the island Rhaenyra had much to do. Organizing the feast in the honour of her two sweet boys. It was more a formality, than anything else. Her sweet sons were too young to stay long and would only be shown in the beginning of the feast. Unlike Alicent she would not force her children to endure loud celebrations for hours. She still could remember Helaena's distressed screams, when Alicent had insisted her daughter would stay for the whole celebration of her nameday. A disaster that day, it ended in an embarrassed royal family. Aegon had not been much better, the boy already soiled and vain, demanding everyone's attention and throwing tantrums when something did not happen the way he wanted them to. Alas, most royal children behaved like that n their early days, but she could not remember that her tantrums had been as loud as her half-brother's.

Rhaenyra had been relieved when neither her father nor any of the Hightowers he called family showed up for Laenor's funeral. Their excuse was pathetic, but neither Laenor's parents nor Rhaenyra herself wanted them there anyway. The Queen had excused her with the explanation, that the Kings sons had caught a light cold and their parents did not wish to leave them alone. As if they truly cared for the boys, or as if her two half-brothers weren't compelled healthy. Pathetic indeed. Daemon had simply scoffed and called it a weak excuse. But he expressed his concern, that Viserys had not attended. His spies had informed him of no distressing news. So her father should be fine. However, she had learned in the last years not to trust every Maester's words.

Her father's illness was something they did not know, they used all kind of methods, none truly helped. The princess was glad she was to busy with organizing everything to think about her father, she would see him at the feast. It was not easy to organize celebrations, but she had often seen her mother doing it, and watched as Lord Bessbury looked over the necessary funds for any tourney or feast her father wanted to throw.

Food and drinks were very important, she had to worry the most about that, but with Daemon's help, that problem was fixed easily. The location, in a large ballroom located in the middle of Dragonstone's castle, was beautifully decorated. The kitchen had their orders and more help was hired. People from the nearby villages were hired to serve food and drinks for the feasts. Others, the hunters, were paid for their animals and crops. Her guest list had been completed months ago. All the Lord Paramount Houses received an invitation, of course. The Baratheons of the Stormlands, the Tyrell's of the Reach, the Lannister of the Westerlands, the Tully's of the Riverlands, the Arryn of the Vale, the Starks of the North and the Martell's of Dorne.

All, to her surprise, had sent her a reply. Each Paramount House would send a delegation. It surprised her most of all, that the Prince of Dorne had chosen to attend, since not even two moons prior they had been enemies. She was interested who they would send. The Steaks were another surprise, they had the longest way of all the Paramount Houses. But Lord Stark assured her they would be in attendance.

That the Arryn's would attend was no surprise to her, they were after all her closest kin. Her mother's family. She had not seen her cousin, Lady Jeyne in many years, only communicated through letters. The Tyrells were neutral in this struggle of succession. Unlike the Lannisters, Tully's and Baratheons. The Lannisters were firmly on Alicent's side, neither of the twin lion brothers had taken her rejection well. Arrogantes pricks. The Tully's were divided. While the current Lord would rather support her half-brother's faction, his heir was on her side. Similar with the Baratheons. The current Lord was on her side, Lord Bormund had voted for his niece, Rhaenys at the Great council. His heir on the other hand, Borros, an illiterate boar of a man, favoured the greens, because he thought men superior to women. He unlike the Lannisters however could be persuaded. With taking two of his daughters as Lady-in-waiting's (in the future, they were still very young) she had leverage against him and there was always the prospect of a royal marriage. Not to her first two boys. Aerion would need a Valyrian, preferable a Targaryen, bride and Baelon a Velaryon one. Her future children however were another matter.

She had sat down with her uncle, discussing who she would choose to extend her household. From all major houses she would at least try to secure one lady. Form other houses of course as well. Mostly favouring her known allies of course, but she also could sway other houses to her cause with treating them with respect and the promise of good advantageous matches for their daughters. Houses that had no available ladies, could send squires for daemon or their second or third sons to serve on Dragonstone.

Rhaenyra planned to go on a tour around the realm, to gather more allies and strengthen alliances and of course to weaken the resolve of those who supported the Greens. She would work subtle, unlike her enemies who threw it into everyone's face, what they wanted. Many had been disgruntled by her father's choice. The new Queen came from an ancient house, but nowadays, House Hightower was only regarded as a minor house. The Tyrell's especially were unhappy and. More likely to support her, because they felt slighted. Other houses like the Redwyne's and the Florent's were unlikely to become her allies. Because they shared blood with Alicent and thus also with Aegon. Which person did not want to see their blood on the throne?

Daemon had only agreed to take squires after she had argued with him for hours, when he finally relented, her checks were bright because of the intense emotions displayed in his eyes. She was aware of what her uncle desired, but wasn't sure of him yet. Until now, he stayed and supported her, but until the end of the mourning period, she would not even entertain the thought of marrying again so soon.

Every royal had to marry again, for the sake of heirs, at least that was what her father had used as an excuse. His marriage to Alicent's was hurried, she suspected Alicent visited her father's bed early and fell pregnant, thus forcing her father to either dishonour his trusted friend daughter or marry her to hide both their mistakes. Laughable if someone had asked Rhaenyra. It was just an excuse, to make him feel better. Every other king would have never taken Alicent first as a mistress and then let her become pregnant. It seemed her father did not know Moontea existed, despite him ordering the Maester preparing it for her after the brothel incident. Viserys was an idiot. His own father, Rhaenyra's grandsire, refused to marry after his wife's death. But maybe her father thought he did so, because he had two healthy sons, heirs.

She still feared her father would one day get back on his word and announce Aegon as the heir to the throne, replacing her. After all he was an oath breaker already. The oaths he had given to her mother upon their marriage seemed to men nothing to him or the oath he had given to her, to let herself choose a consort. Picking Daemon simply was not an option for her father. The King always determined to see the worst in her uncle. Rhaenyra did not, she saw other sides of Daemon no one beside his family would see, it seemed even her father and her aunt Rhaenys were incapable to see through his facade. He wasn't a soft man by all means, he was sometimes a monster, brutal and ruthless, but in other moments he was tender and careful. Whenever he held her boys, he was careful to hold them correctly, lulling them to sleep with lullaby's and stories. Even slowly warming up to Dayana. Though the little girl preferred Rhaenyra's arms and company.

The four little dragons, only a few moons old, would soon begin to produce smoke. Hot smoke, that was capable of roasting meat and flesh. Not long after that, they would be able to produce a small amount of fire. Flames that were small, but strong enough to do damage, if not properly managed. Hatchlings were quite capable of setting things and people on fire. Either on purpose or without it. She remembered once, only weeks wore her father had let the Dragonkeepers transport Syrax to the Dragonpit, her she-dragon had been angered by a Septa and set her robe on fire, as well as a few curtains. The curtains were swiftly replaced, as was the Septa. Years later she had learned, what rule became of the awful woman, who had struck her for speaking about the Fourteen Flames and stubbornly denying learning about the Faith of the Seven. She had of course told her father and her uncle, who had not been banished for a few years, why Syrax had reacted. Viserys had only nodded and let the matter rest. Weeks after Syrax was separated from her, when she was in one of her lessons. Rhaenyra could still remember the fear her younger self felt, when she had not seen Syrax inside her chamber.

While her father had subtly punished her for Syrax actions, Daemon had retaliated. He had not only struck the woman twice as hard as she had struck Rhaenyra, but he also cut off her hands. With the words, "Now, you will never be able to strike anyone ever again. Anyone who strikes a princess of the blood, is herby reminded of what will happen, should such an act be repeated." After that, the Septa's were on tiptoes around her, even after her uncle's banishment. None dared to raise their hand against her ever again. Being the young teenager she had been back then, she had thanked her uncle with a kiss to his cheek. Being grateful that he protected her, while she could not.

To never again, feel defenceless she had asked Daemon to help her train. Despite being busy, she refused to cancel their training sessions. Determined to be able to effectivly use a sword and defend herself. She did not want to rely solely on Daemon. It was endearing, that he had sworn he would protect her from everything, but Visenya was after all her favourite ancestor and role model.

Every minute she did not spent organizing her sweet boys special day or handeling the matters of Dragonstone and her heir duties from afar, which involved receiving ravens from Lord Bessbury and Lord Strong, the new Lord Hand a welcomed surprise for north Daemon and her, she spent training or in the company of her children (including her ward).

Her boys were growing fast, their bond with their hatchlings growing stronger and more evident with each passing day. Someday in the future they would be magnificent dragonriders. The pride and joy of their mother. The two hatchlings began to tolerate Daemon more, but still warily watched him, especially when Rhaenyra wasn't with him. Sunfyre and Tessarion on the other hand loved Daemon. Especially Sunfyre. The golden and pink hatchling was often found curled up around Daemon's neck or in the fireplace. Wile Tessarion seemed to follow her everywhere within the castle. The cobalt blue hatchling was not easily exhausted, if it was, the small she-dragon would sleep curled up in Rhaenyra's lap, around her neck or nestled in the burning flames of the fireplace, on top of Sunfyre.

All four hatchlings would be magnificent creatures one day, though her personal favourite was Baelon's little hatchling. The perlescant white silver hatchling of her youngest son would certainly be the most neutral male dragon. Once it grew up. But she would never say such a thing out loud. She definitely did not want three other hatchlings to be jealous. Sunfyre's scales reminded her of Syrax, while Tessarion's reminded her more of Dreamfyre's light blue scales. The two unnamed hatchlings had inherited traits from Syrax and Caraxes.

Caraxes whistle was evident in both hatchlings roars, or in their adorable little shrieks to be precise. The elder hatchling seemed to have inherited his sites temper as well. She was sure he would grow up to be similar to her uncles mount. A dragon made for war, though she prayed her son would not experience war. Baelon's hatchling was built for speed, like her own dragon. She was sure once it was a juvenile the dragon would be quite the consistent for both Syrax and Meleys. Maybe her sons would someday have a chance to fly alongside their grandmother and her Red Queen. Rhaenyra could only hope Laenor's death had not hardened her aunts hard completely.

The funeral of her husband was a moon ago, since then she dressed in less decorated gowns, choosing to showcase her honest mourning. Rhaenyra had flown in Syrax to the funeral, accompanied by Daemon. Who was at her back watching and daring anyone to utter an offensive word in her direction. Rhaenys was deadly silent, Corlys stern in his mourning and sorrow. But he at least cradled Aerion with affection in his arms, same with Baelon. Her sons would be safe with their grandfather, she could however not say the same for their grandmother. Rhaenys cold gaze had not changed. After the funereal she had locked herself inside her chambers, seeing no one, not even Lord Corlys. Rhaenyra and Daemon had departed the same day.

She had not been sure if her good-parents would attend the celebration. But Corlys had assured her in his reply, that they would attend. Rhaenyra was glad for his effort, but was unsure of Rhaenys intentions. Something she would have to think through later. Her lady in waiting were preparing her and themselves for the upcoming arrival of the king and the rest of their guest. Normally the king would arrive sooner, but something had delayed him. She had not cared enough to ask what deleted her father's arrival. But Daemon had informed her a ship with the three-headed-dragon was sighted and would soon dock into the harbour. The first thing the two Targaryens had agreed upon was to rebuild the harbour, make it larger and safer. Before the harbour had withered away, because her father neglected to have it repaired.

Rhaenyra had chosen a blue dress with silver embroidery of dragons and seas horses alike. One of the few dresses Laenor had gifted her. She wore matching jewellery, golden earrings formed like dragons. A necklace adorned with blue sapphires and rings with blue stones. Symbols for her marriage to Laenor and her ties to House Velaryon, as well as a more subtle declaration to be part of House Arryn. She would honour her late Lord husband's and her mother's House with one blue dress, brilliant but easy. She doubted many would realize her intent, but that was alright. Furthermore she wore the dress mostly for herself.

"Princess, Prince Daemon has asked me to inform you, that the royal ship has docked the harbour and the king and his entourage are on his way, escorted by Kingsguard and the Black Cloaks.", a shy servant girl informed her after she grated her entrance. Daemon would never ask, but the young girl would never say demand. "Thank you for delivering the message Ella.", she smiled and gave her a few gold coins. "For the trouble my uncle caused.", she whispered smiling and send the flustered girl on her way. "You are ready to receive the King and his vipers, cousin.", the elder of her Arryn cousins whispered to her. "Alys.", the younger Emma scolded her. Rhaenyra only laughed, while the Royce and the Massey girl, Lara and Elinda hid their giggles behind their hands.

The Black Cloaks were like the Gold Cloaks in Kingslanding, men that would guard and protect the people of Kingslanding. A few former Gold Cloaks were under them, the rest was made up by other peasants and third or fourth or fifth sons who had heard the Rouge Prince was emplyoing knights to form a new guard for Dragonstone.

Breathing deeply a few times she composed herself and with her ladies-in-waiting in tow she made her way down to the bridge that led to the castle. She would receive her father there and the rest of the guests, that had not already arrived, would be welcomed by her servants and ladies-in waiting once they reached the castle. Waiting in front of the bridge she could make out her father's silver hair. So similar to Daemon, but less striking. Spotting her uncle, who silently guided his brother, she smiled slightly. Always baffled by how different the two brothers looked.

"Welcome to Dragonstone your grace, Queen consort. I am pleased you are able to attend my son's nameday feast." Unlike my husband's funeral, was left unsaid. A polite smile found its way on her face, like always when she had to deal with Alicent. Her Stepmother stared at her with disdain, but was polite in her greeting. "Rhaenyra. Apologies for the delay, my sons were a bit seasick." "Maybe you should have left your babes at home in the Red Keep. I heard they caught a cold. Good to see they are already healthy again.", Daemon snickered. Both her father and his wife turned red embarrassed at being caught lying. "Enough uncle, spar them your taunts. You will have plenary of time to make them uncomfortable at the feast.", she scolded him in High Valyrian. Her father coughed lightly, his consort looking offended at her speaking her ancestor's language.

"The feast will begin in two hours. Please rest and fresh up until then. Chambers have been prepared in Dreamfyre's tower for you." Before her stepmother could protest at not being housed in the Conquerors chambers, her father intercepted her. "Thank you, tala. We will be on time for the feast. Have the other guests arrived?", he asked. "Most are already here and on their prepared chambers. Only a few have not arrived yet, but their ships have already been sighted. Do not worry father, everything is planned to the greatest detail.", she assured him. Nodding the King began to follow the servant his daughter directed him to. Alicent had no other choice but to follow her husband, the small portion of their household they had brought with them walking behind them.

Sternly looking at her uncle she murmured a warning in High Valyrian. "Please keep your temper at bay uncle. You will get your chance, but humiliating them so early on, is not a good idea." "Apologies niece, I will be more careful from now on." She did not believe him at all, his smirk telling his true intentions. Sighing fondly she took his hand. "Any news of the Velaryons yet?", she asked. After getting used to it, slipping into High Valyrian while speaking with Daemon was now a reflex again and so easily done. "Their ship has yet to be seen, so has Meleys. I assume they will arrive last or my petty cousin decided to stay on Driftmark after all.", Daemon answered. "Let's hope they have not, that would not send a good message."

"We shall see who wins, my cousin or her ambitious husband." "We shall see.", the crown princess agreed. Together, chaperoned by Elinda, they made their way back to the castle. Daemon going off the gods knew where, she went to her nursery and spent the remaining time with her sons. The stars of today's event. All guests except their Velaryon kin had arrived, a success, but she prayed to the Fourteen that their kin would not forsake them now. Not when this feast was important to gather allies.

Targaryen's were not made for the Sea. Every time he steps onto a ship out did not take long for him to get sea sick. But he would bear this pain, because it meant seeing his daughter again. Months of not seeing her made him desperate. His precious heir risking her own life to avenge her husband. This time he had not listened to Alicent or his Maester's, who insisted he should stay at the Red Keep and rest more. Determined to see his daughter and grandsons after many moons not seeing them. He was sure his grandsons had grown, and now they had hatchlings. He could not wait to be introduced to them. Leaving Lyonel behind to rule in his absence was also protested by Alicent. His wife had wanted to stay in the Red Keep and rule in his absence, he simply countered her argument with the fact, that her father, the former hand had ruled in his place when he was indisposed. So his new hand Lionel was more than capable to do the same.

He was glad his daughter ha the foresight to prepare multiple chambers for them. Two for the children (one for Aegon and the other as nursery for Helaena and Aemond) and two others for his wife and him. Even Alicent could not complain. As soon as they arrived in front of their chambers doors, his wife had ordered her ladies in waiting and servants in. Her luggage was brought with haste. It seemed she would need the full two hours to get ready. But before she closed her door, he reminded her not to be late this time. It would not look good to be late to the feast. Especially not as their King.

Two hours passed before he knew. He did not change much of his attire, just putting on his crown and a different doublet in the same colour. Red and Black Targaryen colours every Targaryen monarch should wear. Alicent had once again dressed herself in a rich emerald coloured dress, decorated with gems. Of course, she also wore her beloved necklace of the seven pointed star and the matching earrings. To him, it looked a bit ridiculous, but alas he would not tell her to change now. Together with his wife in his arm, he entered the hall where the feast would be held. His children's natures had accompanied their three young children. He had asked for Aemond and Helaena to be left behind, they were too young for celebration, Aegon as well. Alicent insisted, he was oto tired to argue with her. He rather spent the feast with his daughter and grandsons.

As always he sat in the middle of the long table, where royalty and the stars of this day would sit. His wife wanted to sit Aegon at his left side, but he refused. Bidding her to sit down their children by her side, because Rhaenyra and her heirs would sit to his left, he supposed his brother would as well.

Slowly the hall filled with more and more guesses from all around the kingdom. Normally all would have to greet him, the King, but since this was not a celebration held by him in the Red Keep, the protocol was different. Each House would wish the two Targaryen-Velaryon princes a happy nameday and congratulations. Viserys spotted many Houses. Arryn's, his stomach clenched at the thought of Aemma's relatives. A delegation in Stark colours, it surprised him they managed to come down from the north. Who exchanged pleasantries with the Arryn's. The ever neutral Tyrell's were present deeply in a conversation with the Tully's. His cousin kin, the Baratheons, bot his cousin Bormund and his son Borros. Of course the golden Lannisters, speaking with the few Hightower representatives present today. Other minor and lesser lords were present with their families. Each Kingdom was represented, and he even saw Martell's among them. Many making conversations among themselves and with the Starks and Arryn's.

"Where is Rhaenyra, she is late husband. You should discipline her on proper timing.", his wife hissed in his ear, trying to sooth a weeping Helaena. The girl as always made a fuss while many people had their eyes on her. "This is her feast, Alicent, she will open it, and I will remind you she has two one-year-olds to handle and present before these masses. The guests have only now arrived, you behave as if we have been here for a long time.", he scolded her. Her checks reddening she bowed her head. "As you say my King.", she answered, her attention now tuning to Aegon.

Bored of watching his children's antics, the antics he had warned his wife about, he began closely watching the atmosphere. A few guests seemed a bit stiff, otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. The Kingsguard he had brought with him, his Lord commander Harrold Westerling, one of the twins, Ser Cole, Alicent's shield, and Ser Willis Fell. The rest he had left behind. Nothing would happen here on Dragonstone. His ancestors magic strong and resilient. The Lord Commander and Ser Willis were stationed at the doors. Ser Cole and Erryk or Arryk near his family.

"Presenting Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of the Blood and Princess of Dragonstone, Heiress to the Iron Throne, her heir, and firstborn Prince Aerion Targaryen, third in line to the throne and her second born Prince Baelon Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and future Lord of the Tides.", Ser Harrold voice cut through the chatter. All eyes were now focused on the open doors. "Presenting Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the Blood, Prince of the City and Lord of the Stepstones.", his little brother always so dramatic.

Viserys expected his little brother to make a dramatic entrance on his own, but he was surprised, like so many others. Next to his daughter and heir, daemon stood in all his glory. While his daughter wore a beautiful blue dress, with matching accessors, to honour her deceased husband and their Velaryon kin, daemon as so often wore red and black. With Dark Sister at his side. On his arm Rhaenyra with a delicate tiara and in her other arm one of her twins. He presumed it to be Aerion, because of his red and black clothes. Daemon, instead of having his hand on his sword pommel, was carrying who he presumed to be Baelon, with his silver and sea blue clothes.

Striding through the masses, all of them bowing to his heir as she walked by. Finally, his daughter reached him, a brilliant smile, so much like Aemma's, on her face. "Father.", she greeted him. A polite nod in Alicent's direction and a small smile in her sibling's direction. Then she sat down to his left, her eldest child on her lap. "Daemon.", he greeted stiffly. "Brother.", the Rouge Prince acknowledged and left to sit right next to Rhaenyra. Now only two more chairs were free. His brother completely ignored his consort, which had Alicent murmur about decency and etiquette. Viserys waved her away, his brother simply wanted to rile them up with his antics.

"Should you not open the feast with a speech, my love.", his Queen whispered, as if urging him to take control. He only shook his head. Irritated she looked up, when his daughter stood up, her son still in her arms. "My dear guests, you have my gratitude for coming this long way to celebrate my son's first nameday. Be welcomed and eat and drink to your hearts content. Music will shortly begin. The greatest gift you could have given us is your attendance today. In the name of my sons I thank you for being present on this special day. May my sons live long and fulfilled lives. To Prince Aerion! To Prince Baelon!", toasting to all guests and her son, his daughter once again showed him, she knew how to handle a delicate balance between praise and thankfulness. "To Prince Aerion! To Prince Baelon!", his brother echoed, raising his own cup. "To the princes!", the hall echoed, cups were raised and drained.

Rhaenyra sat down again and after a simple gesture, the musicians started playing. One by one the Houses wished the twin Princes congratulations. The smaller houses gift were easily overlooked by him, he was only focused long enough to listen to the Lord Paramounts. First Lady Arryn, as Rhaenyra's and her boys cousin. The Baratheons as next kin followed, then the Stark followed, after them The Tyrells and Tully's, then the Dornish delegation and last were the Lannisters.

Plenty of food and drinks were served, no guest would go hungry today. All tables were full of conversations and laughter, a lively atmosphere prevailed in the hall. Unknown to him, his wife was everything but pleased and made her displeasure known, with a taunt, directed at his daughter. But as always the King was too oblivious. "I wonder where the boys grandparents are Princess. Should they not be in attendance, when such an important feast is held?", Alicent asked. Her venomous tone, audible for everyone but him. "Thank you for your concern Stepmother. My son's grandparents have certainly not forgotten them, they are simply a bit late, because of a present they have prepared.", if he had listened more closely and not concentrated on his food and the wine that warmed his belly, he would have heard the slight hesitation.

"What a shame, to arrive late....", his queen hissed, but was rudely interrupted by Ser Harrold announcing his cousin and her husband. "Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark and his Lady wife the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Princess of the Blood and Lady of Driftmark. Ser Vaemond Velaryon, Ser Daemion Velaryon and Ser Daeron Velaryon of House Velaryon." His consort closed his mouth, when his brother triumphantly smirked at her.

Alicent hated everything about this celebration. From the disrespectful welcome to the farce that was this feast. The whole realm knew Rhaenyra’s children were bastards. From who she had no idea and she cared not to know. Most likely one of her sworn knights, one of those arrogant Vale men, who the lady of the Vale insisted would protect her cousin. Rhaenyra was a whore, at least she could have been a smart one and sought out a man with similar colouring to her husband. 

While her stepdaughters children where celebrated and cheered for, her own perfect true-born children were ignored. By many of Rhaenyra’s supporters and by their own father even. Viserys only cared about Rhaenyra. Every day waiting for a new letter to arrive and inform him of new tidings. Her husband was to indignant with that whore. Allowing her to fly off oto play war with her horrible uncle, without receiving punishment afterwards. 

If only her father was still the hand, he would have easily changed Viserys mind. But he was dismissed moons ago and since then Alicent felt miserabel in the Red Keep. The castle should have been her domain, her home. Now with Lyonel Strong, a supporter of princess Rhaenyra despite formerly being master of Law, as hand everything began to change. A few of her allies had left her, instead switching to the Blacks. Those fools would pay for that soon enough. Even worse Viserys had slowly ordered to take down the symbols of the seven and reinstall the old heirlooms of the Targaryens. The cursed blood that also ran through her children’s veins. 

She had begged the Seven-who-are-one to overlook her children’s cursed and veil blood. Begged for at least one of them to look like heir. Disappointment followed. Even her darling Aemond had his father’s looks. Though that proved they were true-born, unlike their bastard nephews. 

Rhaenyra had the audacity to not even properly greet her and her husband ushered her inside the castle before she could discipline her stepdaughter on how to properly greet the Queen. One day, when her son sat on the Throne, her former friend would get what she deserved. Of course she would like for Viserys to disinherit and shame her beforehand, but that would not happen. Her foolish husband to busy with missing his failure of a first wife. 

Her children were angels who only deserved the best, they should be celebrated as grandly as the bastard princess. Dressing in a brilliant gown of green and dressing her children in green, was a symbol, of her allegiance. She knew her allies would see it as such. Thus she was proudly walking through the masses to her rightful seat at Viserys right as his queen. To her disappointment he denied Aegon his seat at his left. 

“Where is Rhaenyra, she is late husband. You should discipline her on proper timing.", she hissed in Viserys ear. Her stepdaughter was Kate to her own son celebration. But hs could only be so angry about Rhaenyra’s manner, because Helaena started to make a fuss. The girl as always made a fuss while many people had their eyes on her. "This is her feast, Alicent, she will open it, and I will remind you she has two one-year-olds to handle and present before these masses. The guests have only now arrived, you behave as if we have been here for a long time.", he scolded her. Her checks reddening she bowed her head, to not let him see her offended expression. "As you say my King.", she answered, her attention now tuning to Aegon.

Her son was getting hungry and bored. She had tried everything already, her eldest would simply not listen to her or any of his nursemaids. She had fired many nannies already, because they were too incompetent to teach her eldest manners and raise him right. Alicent wished she had managed to delay the trip even longer, the King showing up late to his grandsons celebration was a sign, a sign many would see as a declaration against Rhaenyra. (That was what she had hoped.) But her husband and begun ignoring her arguments ans simply taken another carriage to the ship. He even ignored her request to bring all of the Kingsguard here. 

Her trusted champion at least was with her. Ser Cole kept an eye on her children’s safety. Before she could truly sink into her thoughts Ser Harrold Westerling booming voice cut through the chattering noises. Presenting Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of the Blood and Princess of Dragonstone, Heiress to the Iron Throne, her heir, and firstborn Prince Aerion Targaryen, third in line to the throne and her second born Prince Baelon Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and future Lord of the Tides." All eyes were now focused on the open doors. "Presenting Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the Blood, Prince of the City and Lord of the Stepstones.", of course Rhaenyra would be escorted by her uncle. Daemon, her husband little brother, the man her father hated more than everything, the man who nearly killed her brother Gwayne. 

Rhaenyra was dressed in a blue gown, embroiled with seahorses and dragon, her outfit matched her jewellery, there was nothing she could badmouth about her this time. Maybe she had finally learned to dress accordingly. Prince Daemon on the other hand dressed on Black and red, his sword at his side, who brought a sword to a feast? And he even had the audacity to call himself the Lord of the Stepstones. He had not fought for months there like the Velaryons, though she should be happy that the arrogant seahorses did not get more land and wealth. 

When the couple reached the high table, with the twins in their arms Rhaenyra addressed the King first. “Father.", she greeted him, a smile on her face. It vexed her to now how intimacy her stepdaughter could address her husband, whereas her children would never be able to do such.. A polite nod in Alicent's direction was all she got. And a small smile in her sibling's direction. That whore should never even look in her beloved children’s direction. Then she sat down to Viserys left, her eldest child on her lap. The one dressed in red and black, with a dragon embroiled on his doublet.

"Daemon.", her husband greeted stiffly. It was good to know that the Prince was still not in the Kings good grace. "Brother.", the Rouge Prince acknowledged and left to sit right next to Rhaenyra. Now only two more chairs were free. the Prince completely ignored her, the Queen. Which made her murmur about his lack for decency and etiquette, but no one listened to her complains. One after on the guests came up to the high table and presented their gifts and well wishes for the twins. 

First were the Arryn’s, those arrogant falcons. Lady Jeyne Arryn, dressed in a blue and grey gown bowed to the king, ignored her as well and turned to Rhaenyra with a smile. “On behalf of the Vale, I wish to extend my congratulations to you and your sons, cousin. I am glad to finally met them and no only receive information about their wellbeing. I also was asked by our aunts to extend their well wishes and hopes to visit soon, but alas someone has to watch over my seat in my absence.” “Thank you for coming cousin, despite your difficult situation. My sons will surely be delighted to meet their mother’s maternal family once they are a bit older. Please extend my thanks to our aunts, and do send a raven should the situation worsen. I am but a raven away and will eagerly help my Arryn kin.”, Rhaenyra replied a smile on her face. A few more pleasantries were exchanged and then the next Paramount Lord came. 

Lord Bormund Baratheon and his heir Borros, as well as Borros wife and a few others. They expressed their well-wishes and congratulations same as the Starks, Tyrell’s, Tully’s and Dornish after them. All exchanging pleasantries with the princess and completely forgetting their queen and their rightful heir her son Aegon were also present. Seething in silence, Alicent was too busy to notice how Rhaenyra charmed the Lords. Exchanging pleasant conversations and gaining their support. A promise of a good marriage and help for the Tyrells and Tully’s, both having problems within their kingdom. Others she promised as well as to consider taking their daughters or granddaughters as future ladies-in-waiting. For those who could not offer daughters or granddaughters as ladies in waiting, she offered a position as squire for the younger sons of the Houses of the Kingsguard that was protecting her family or to squire for Prince Daemon. (She did the same for the minor houses that followed after the last Paramount House)

Rhaenyra was subtle in her approach and the Queen only started to pay attention again, when the Lannister came forward. “Your Grace, my Queen, Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon.”, Tyland Lannister, brother to the Lord of Casterly Rook greeted her as well. Finally, someone who knew the order of things. “Good day, Lord Lannister.”, her stepdaughter greeted and smiled charmingly at the Lion. Alicent prayed that the man would not fall prey to her false pleasantries. The Lannisters were the only Paramount house she was sure would support Aegon. The Stark’s were too far north to be of any consequence, the Arryn’s a lost cause, still angry about her becoming queen to soon after Aemma’s passing.

But surely the Tyrell’s would support them, they were the Lords of the Reach, devoted to the Seven. (She seemed to forget that Rhaenyra also shared blood with House Tyrell through one of her aunts.) The Tully’s control over the Riverlands was slipping, concentrating on the Blackwoods or Brackens would be better in the long run. And the Dornish, she would never have invited those people if she had planned the feast. They were savages, same as the Northerners. Not worth a thought, Aegon would not need their help, having the faith and tradition on his side would be enough. Besides the Lannisters were rich, with their gold they could buy better weapons and armies than the Blacks.

“House Lannister wishes to extend their well-wishes and hopes for the princess to live long and fulfilled lives as their ancestors did.”, Lord Tyland seemed a bit uncomfortable, though the Queen could not imagine why. For the first I’ve since greeting his brother, Prince Daemon spoke: “It seems to me, that the Lord of Casterly Rook has taken ill, Lannister. I do not see Lord Jason anywhere.” Gulping the younger Lannister stammered an explanation: “My brother indeed did stay behind, my prince. His wife has taken ill, and he fears for the well-being of his heir. And it seems he has injured himself on one of his hunts as well. He asked that you excuse his absence this time, your Highness.” “Then I will pray for his swift recovery and his wife’s health.”, her stepdaughter commented and waved the nervous Lannister away.

Prince Daemon murmured something inside Rhaenyra’s ear, which made her smile, but fondly shake her head. “I wonder where the boys grandparents are Princess. Should they not be in attendance, when such an important feast is held?", Alicent casually mentioned. Enjoying Rhaenyra’s flinch.. Her venomous tone, audible for everyone but her oblivious husband. "Thank you for your concern Stepmother. My son's grandparents have certainly not forgotten them, they are simply a bit late, because of a present they have prepared.", years in court made it easy for her to hear the slight hesitation in the princess statement.

"What a shame, to arrive late....", the queen hissed, but she was rudely interrupted by Ser Harrold announcing the people she desperately hoped would not attend. "Presenting Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark and his Lady wife the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Princess of the Blood and Lady of Driftmark. Presenting Ser Vaemond Velaryon, Ser Daemion Velaryon and Ser Daeron Velaryon of House Velaryon." Prince Daemon’s triumphant smirk made her close her mouth. These dammed Velaryons had to make a dramatic late entrance, now she would not be able to spin a tale, that the two princes were rejected by their supposed father’s family.

”We apologize for the delay princess. A few things had to be sorted out. I apologize if we have made you think we would forget our grandsons first of many nameday feast’s.”, smoothly Lord Corlys cut through the tense silence. His younger brother looked a bit tense and unhappy to be here, but Alicent paid more attention to Princes Rhaenys. She would have expected a harsh glare from her would be automatically thrown towards Rhaenyra, but instead she stayed silent and simply bowed her head in greeting. Her expression unreadable to the Queen. Something that unsettled her. And her children were beginning to get fussy.

Aegon was agitated because he had to sit still for so long, Helaena was bothered by the noises Aemond made and her darling boy, her current youngest was getting hungry. But like the perfect prince he was, she knew he would endure his hunger a little longer. (Alicent forgot her youngest was still a babe and babes always cried when they were hungry.) “No harm was done good-father. Please sit down.”, Rhaenyra welcomed the Velaryon. Lord Corlys and his wife sitting next to Daemon, while the rets of the Velaryon mixed with the other Houses sitting near the High table.

From then on the feats only grew more unbearable. Everyone amused themselves, while their queen seethed in her anger at being overlooked. Many ladies complimented Rhaenyra for her choice of dress, none did so for Alicent, instead they looked disgruntled that their queen chose to wear her factions colour. In truth Alicent had suspected, that her stepdaughter would wear another of those hideous black gowns again, to spite her. In wanting to show support for her sons, Alicent had made a mistake. The princess had shown that she was above the pettiness her Stepmother showed with wearing green. The widowed princess impressed many ladies. Who picked a less extravagant gown than normally and in her late-husbands Houses colours no less. She respected her husband even in death.

The Velaryons epically seemed pleased by that. Lord Corlys had taken the younger twin from Prince Daemon and entertained the boy, while his wife now and then caressed the babes head. Alicent felt dread rising in her stomach. But Prince Daemon distracted her with first with serving Rhaenyra food and then taking her eldest child from her to rook him to sleep in his arms. Despite the loud noises and chatter of hundreds of people the twins seemed unbothered and slowly dozed off. Soon after Rhaenyra asked a servant to send for her sons nurses to lay them down for their nap and to reunite them with their hatchlings. Immediately after two nurses came and swept the boys away. When Viserys asked her if she also wished to send their children to bed, she denied his question. Her children would stay and show the guests they were mature for their age. Afterwards she truly wished she had ordered them to bed.

Not long after first Aemond began to screech, then Helaena began to wail and Aegon screamed displeased. She tried soothing and silence her children, but nothing worked, not even their nurses could calm them down. Tired Viserys commanded the nurses to take his children to their chambers, children were simply not made or long noisy celebration. He also ordered Ser Criston to go with them and keep watch on their doors. The rest of the feast Viserys ignored her and either spoke with Rhaenyra or Daemon. The King and the Rouge Prince for once got along without fighting or arguing. While Rhaenyra had the time of her life, Alicent was miserable without her children and her Sworn Shield. She stayed quiet and endured the torturous hours. Praying that this nightmare would end soon. She missed the Keep, the domain she controlled dearly. Dragonstone was a mysterious and strange place. The castle seemed haunted and Alicent was scared something would happen to her children. She would not put Kinslaying above Prince Daemon. Especially because of the fact, that they shared her father’s blood.

Her torture ended after many hours, exhausted she went to bed, denying her husbands request to share his. Instead, she checked her children’s rooms, all the now calmer, though Helaena as always was still restless and somehow uncomfortable. But she paid that no mind and went to her own rooms. Once her head hit her pillow, she immediately went to sleep, exhausted and offended at the same time. But reassured of her children’s and her own safety with Ser Criston guarding them. Rhaenyra would definitely pay for this humiliating day, the next Viserys would throw a feast or a tourney, she would show her former friend, how easily she could humiliate her.

The gods that watched over their champion scoffed at the thought of the Hightower Queen. The green woman was jealous and scared of the advantage her rival could gain. Not even realizing that the princess had gained significant support and would soon do what Alicent was not prepared to do. Their chosen princess would fight for her own happiness and prove all the rumours around her sons false. The fourteen refused to let the Seven win, they refused to see their creation perish in the Dance, but despite their power, they would only be able to do so much against the coming civil war.

Chapter Text

Rhaenys never felt so empty before. Not even when she heard about her father's death and lost her first child. She mourned both her father and her dead son, but unlike Laena and Laenor she did not know him for years. Her son had been taken from her before she could get to know him. And now her two children had been taken from her ass well. Laenor through an enemies hand and Laena through her own mind. Her beloved daughter had lost her mind because of grieve and anger. Her son had lost his because he had not kept his focus on his foes. When Corlys came back she had refused to speak with him or even be in the same room as him. For many days she slept in other chambers, ate alone and mourned alone.

Only after Laenor's funeral did she began to hear him out. But no matter how much he apologized, her children were gone and there was no way for her to get them back. She could fly after Laena, but she did not know where her daughter planned to go. It was useless and hopeless. At least her husband had Rhaenyra's children as consolation. After all he saw them as his grandchildren, unlike her, who saw nothing of her son in them. Only her uncles and cousins features. Though she ha always refused to truly look upon their faces. Afraid to see the obvious, afraid the rumours of bastards were true.

She knew about Laenor's preference, but was insulted her niece thought she could pass of her lovers children as Laenor's true-born ones. But her son had not been angry or ashamed when the twins were born. Contrary to that he was existed and happy. For a moment she had hoped to see her son having his own children, who would continue his legacy, and by extension hers as well. Laenor's eldest child would sit on the throne, her blood would finally gain back the throne that should have belonged to her. Taken away by the men of the Great Council. So she hoped and was deeply disappointed.

Aerion and Baelon had brown/black hair and purple eyes. Bearing resemblance only to Rhaenyra's bloodline, not to hers. Rhaenys had complete forgotten the colour of her mother's hair and the hair colour of her Baratheon kin as well as those of Aemma's Arryn kin. When the invitation to the princes' nameday arrived, the Lady of Driftmark wanted to decline. Corlys insisted and dragged her along, Vaemond and his family as well. Rhaenys had told herself she would simply have to endure a feast and could go rest whenever she wanted.

As always Corlys had to make a dramatic late entrance, and this time she had not flown on Meleys, her dragon of course flying above the ships to keep watch, but she decided to sail with Corlys. Unlike her Targaryen relatives she was not prone to get sea sick. The hall had been full of guests, from all over Westeros, even Dorne. Despite her anger and hatred towards the Dornish, she did not condemn her good-daughter for making a peaceful compromise with them. Like her, Rhaenyra was more level-headed and less temperamental as Daemon in making decisions, most of the time. And she had burned a large portion of the Dornish fleet as well as the Triarchy's fleet.

Corlys had told her many times, how Daemon and Rhaenrya saved them in the last minute, otherwise he and his forces would either be dead or captured. Rhaenys would not have thought, that Aemma's daughter had so much courage to fly to war. She remembered her cousin to be a shy and easily scared girl. A falcon among dragons. Not that Viserys had much courage either, he was more of a coward and focused on pleasing people, afraid of confrontation. If he wasn't screaming at Daemon again and again. Viserys felt powerful sitting on their grandfather's throne, his authority as King protection him from any retribution. There was however a limit for everything. Even Daemon's love for his elder brother had limits.

At the feast she had witnessed, just how strained Viserys' and Daemon's relationship was. They barely spoke a word with each other. Daemon was more focused on Rhaenyra and her eldest child, which he rocked to sleep, same as her husband did with the younger twin. Even Rhaenys, her heart withered and cold, empty because of her children's loss, found them adorable. She was surprised though, that Daemon had the patience to handle such a young child. And that her niece willingly gave her uncle her son, without a visible worry or concern.

Daemon after all was famous for hating most people he met and for not really being good with babes. Rhaenyra had been the exception. From day one her young niece had been the owner of Daemon's heart. Rhaenys only wished she could have seen the truth sooner. Then her daughter could have been without a broken heart, her son could have been alive. And Daemon and Rhaenyra could have married each other, instead of her children.

She was sure, no sh knew her cousin would marry his niece, once the mourning period was over, maybe even before that. Viserys had after all also not waited the appropriate time and remarried far to early. Rhaenyra's situation was even more complicated. Her niece's fitting in the Red Keep was weak, compared to that of Otto and Alicent, something that could change with Otto's return to Oldtown and his dismissal as hand. Alicent was in a panic, without her father she was lost and without someone to guide her. However, the shook would not paralyse her forever. Sooner or later the Hightower Queen would find her fitting and grow into her own person, her own ambitions.

Walking into the hall at her husband's side she scanned it, calculating who was Rhaenyra's supporter and who wasn't. Her gaze was captured by the Arryn and Baratheon guests. The Arryn's with their brown hair and the Baratheons with their black hair. So similar to the rumoured hair colour of Rhaenyra's boys. Rhaenys had the feeling she had made an unforgivable mistake. Accusing Laenor's true-born children of bastards. Accusing her niece of infidelity. Wearing another woman's claim.

Blinded by her resentment for Rhaenyra and Daemon she had hurt her own blood, refused to listen, to both her son and her good-daughter. Both had tried to reach out, Laenor with is visits and Rhaenyra with her letters. Her niece had given up first, accepting Rhaenys would not see Aerion and Baelon as her grandsons. It was not unusual for children to favoured on parent, her children took after Corlys Velaryon genes and looked nothing like her. Laenor and Rhaenyra's children simple took after their mother's side more, and their grandmothers.

Her own anger, her delusional behaviour might have cost her the only grandchildren she would ever have. Rhaenys was a Baratheon, stubborn and unwilling to admit a mistake, but sh only now saw how ring she truly was. Normally she was the one who saw through deception and rumours and refused to believe them. This time Corlys had been the smarter one of them. Even if the boys were not born from Laenor's seed, they were technically still her blood. Rhaenyra was her niece, Viserys' and Aemma's daughter, her uncle Baelon's granddaughter. Oh, how disappointed her parents and uncle would be in her if they witnessed how she shame and ignored her own family.

After all she was a Targrayen first and foremost. Nothing was more important than family and blood. A lecture she had ignored. Targaryen blood and Velaryon blood was flowing through Aerion and Baelon's blood, because of the Velaryon-Targrayen marriages of their ancestors. The Queen who never was knew Rhaneyra would never forgive her, neither would Daemon. Her cousin loved few people as much as Rhaenyra. She was a fool to not have seen through his facade. If only she had listened to her gut and stopped Corlys from pressuring Daemon into the marriage with Laena. In the end it brought them nothing but heartache.

Lady Arryn, Rhaenyra's cousin had come, Lord Bormund, her uncle and his son Borros as well. Seeing and comparing them to the twins made her mistake painfully obvious. If she had compared the princes' hair to her own it would have been clear. But she remained will fully blind. It seemed not Rhaenyra had been the naive one, but Rhaenys herself had been. Reaching the high table she bowed her head in greeting, keeping her face blank and sitting down next to Corlys, in the last free seat.

Observing as Daemon and Rhaenyra had the crown princess' twins on their laps. Until Corlys took Baelon, she assumed it was Baelon, from Daemon, entertaining his grandson. Daemon took Aerion from Rhaenyra shortly after, rocking the boy to sleep and watching the guests. All the houses already had given the twins their congratulations, so none came near the High table, but it seemed her cousin did not like having so many people near the boys. He was also keeping an eye on Corlys, Baelon happily clapping his hand and tucking on his grandsire's long silver locks.

Afraid to startle the boy she let her hand hover over his head for a few minutes. Hesitant to touch him, honestly for the first time. Until now, she had never even taken one of them in her arms. Dogging any attempts of their parents or her husband to lay them into her arms. Corlys had always made up for it, taking both boys and going on and on about one of his voyages. Her niece had got used to her rejection and obvious dislike faster than her son. Her attempts of reconciliation ceased much earlier as well. Rhaenyra had even gone so far as to avoid her, trying not to be in the same room as her as often as possible.

The picture she made with caressing Baelon's hair most likely threw many people off. In the end not her own courage had won, instead little Baelon had taken matters into his tiny hands. Grasping her fingers, which hovered over his hair, with one hand, while the other was still tucking on her husband locks. Surely a painful experience, but she was too fascinated by Baelon's eyes, hair, and face. Straight dark hair, with silvery golden streaks and eyes that looked identical to her late uncle Baelon's ones. Truly his namesake looked like her uncle, but he had her mother's hair. Though slowly his hair was turning lighter, the darker shade would most likely be complete gone once he reached a certain age. Maybe his hair colour would also look like his namesake's hair. From her seat she could not get a good look at Aerion, but she imagined he looked similar.

Stroking Baelon's hair, putting an unruly streak behind his ear, she suppressed a gasp. Behind his ear, more on his neck was a birthmark she knew well. Her mother Jocelyn Baratheon had the same, it looked like a stags antlers. Her mothers however had not been behind her ear or near her neck, instead it had been on her inner thigh. Only through luck did she know her mother had a birthmark. Discovering it the day her father had taken the two for a family day, going swimming in the waters of Dragonstone. On a clam, beautiful day. She knew one of her mother's ancestor had passed the birthmark onto her. And now Jocelyn Baratheons great-grandson had one too.

Oh, her mother was without a doubt ashamed of her, wherever she watched over her family. Her own daughter, neglecting her grandsons because she refused to truly look upon them. To many it looked suspicious that two dark haired babes were born from two silver-hared Valyrian, they forgot however that Rhaenyra's maternal family had brown hair and Rhaenys maternal family had black hair, she herself had it, she was one of those ignorant fools. To used to Aemma's silver Targrayen looks. Ignoring the possibility that they had no idea what traits children inherited from their parents or grandparents or great-grandparents.

If Baelon sat beside a portrait of her mother their hair colour would look nearly identical. Rhaenys could have kicked herself for her stupidity. For months, no for a year, since the day of their birth she had accused them of bastardy. Even if they were, it was through no fault of their own. Their parents would have been responsible, instead of behaving like the dignified princess she was raised to be, Rhaenys continued to be a fool.

If Viserys, by some miracle, for the Green supporters, believed the rumours and disinterred his daughter, Rhaenyra and her children would be as good as dead. She had very nearly driven her own blood in a deathly situation. Normally she would have chatted with her mothers family or other known political figures or spoke with her husband in a hushed tone, but this time she was solely focused on Baelon the entirety of his stay at the feast. After Rhaenyra asked the nurses to take her sons back to the nursery, they needed a nap, her thoughts occupied her for the rest of the feast's duration.

All the guests retired eventually and the hostess as well. Escorted out of the hall by Daemon, who unlike his brother seemed completely sober. Her cousin could always handle alcohol better than his older brother. The King had to be half carried by Ser Harrold. At least Viserys would sleep well after all the wine he practically inhaled. He loved feasts and celebrations and always amused himself greatly, thanks to his oblivious nature.

Rhaenys had also retired to her camber, separate one from her husband, after declining Corlys offer to share a room. She heeded time to think, alone with her thoughts. She was still cross with her husband. But acknowledged that she was also at fault for the loos of their children, as much as he was. Her own ambition had silenced her heart. Choosing ambition over the safety and happiness of her son. Who was against the match and protested against the engagement vehemently, his protest falling on deaf ears. Now she would never have a chance to apologize to Laenor, until she joined him in Balerion's kingdom.

Thinking about Laenor she fell asleep, determined to speak with Rhaenyra the following day. All guests, aside from the royals and the Velaryon's would sail home. The crown princess had refused to celebrate more than one day, her sons too young for such a grand celebration, and they would have many more namedays, was her reasoning. Rhaenys presumed she just did not want so many strangers on Dragonstone. Besides Westerosi habitants disliked Dragonstone, all aside from the Targaryen's who hade made the island into the fortress it was nowadays.

Rhaenys dream

Opening her eyes again, the Lady of Driftmark was confused at first. Seeing a beach she had visited with her parents long ago before her eyes. That could not be real, she had not been on the beaches of Dragonstone in many years. "It isn't real, you are dreaming, daughter.", a male voice, she had not heard in years said. Turning around, one could do such a thing in a dream?, she looked into the purple eyes of her father. The Pale prince, living up to his name with his pale hair and complex, was standing in front of her. Next to him, equally tall as her father, stood her mother. In all her glory, with straight black Baratheon hair, dressed in a yellow gown. "But we thought you would be comfortable here, a memory you always looked back on roundly after all.", Jocelyn Baratheon's voice was just like she remembered it to be.

"Father, mother." "We missed you Rhaenys.", Aemon Targaryen smiled at his daughter, grateful the Fourteen Flames had granted his request of speaking with her. "You truly disappointed us Rhaenys, I have not raised you like that. I am ashamed of your behaviour. You go on and on about Viserys being oblivious and Daemon being judgmental , but you are just as bad as them." "My love, I think you could have said that a bit less sharp.", her father smiled awkwardly. "Do not be a softy now Aemon. You also had to apologize to Baelon and Alyssa for the treatment of their granddaughter and great-grandsons. We do not have much time, so we should get to the point. Our happy reunion can wait.", Jocelyn replied, the famous Baratheon temper flaring up.

"My love, we talked about how we would handle this conversation.", Aemon tried to calm his wife, while his daughter watched flabbergasted as her parents stood before her in all their glory. "We don't have time for gentle explanations Aemon." With a sigh the Pale Prince raised his hands in surrender. "Alright have it your way."

"Listen well daughter, you only have one second chance. I hoped this would not come to that, my grandson was too young to die, but he had to, the gods needed him to make way. I can only pray that his death opened your eyes.", her mother began speaking, her tone serious, her eyes burning with worry. "The gods are not merciful if you disobey them. All these years they watched over us and let us continue disregard them, but their patience runs thin these days. Stand against them and your death will be painful and slow."

"The gods killed my son?", Rhaenys asked, tears streaming down her face. Her son, her Laenor killed by the gods their family believed in, should believe in, because he was in the way of ancient plans made by divine beings. "No and yes. They could have prevented his death for years to come. Laenor would have died after the birth of his and Rhaenyra's third child, a child that now will not exist in the same manner any more. Your greed, desperation, and ignorance cost you your children. You speak about your devoted love to them, but your choices doomed them in the end.", disappointment laced her mother's words, and they cut deep.

"I had no power, Corlys is their father, he was the one who made the decision!", Rhaenys replied, desperate to not see herself at fault for Laenor's death and Laena's madness. "You are a Valyrian daughter, born from a Targaryen and Baratheon, you are not a simple Andal woman who was taught to obey her husband. We taught you to fight for the right thing. Instead of doing so you used traditions as an excuse for ruining your children's happiness.", Aemon said, pain in his features at having to speak such harsh truths to his daughter, but it had to be done.

"They were happy, and would have continued to do so if not for....", the Lady of Driftmark answered outraged, but her anger was overshadowed by that of her mother. "Do not blame Alyssa's and Baelon's boy. Daemon only ever remained loyal to his blood. He was unhappy, Laena was unhappy, her only joy coming from tormenting Rhaenyra with her letters. Our granddaughter would have been better off with one of her Velaryon cousins. And you should at least acknowledge that your son was not happy since the day his first love was killed. Maybe he felt joy when his sons were born, but he quickly came back to his habit he inherited from his father. There was infidelity in the princesses and your son's marriage, but Rhaenyra did not commit it. Your son did. Instead of publicly shaming him and demanding a divorce, which she should have done, your niece covered and supported her husband. At least our grandson amused himself with other males, instead of fathering bastards on whores and other sailors.", Jocelyn was angry at many members of her family. If she had known what a scum back her good-son was beforehand, she would have advised Rhaenys against marrying him.

"Daemon doesn't care for his blood, he stood by Viserys, despite knowing the throne belonged to me.", her disinheritance was an old wound for her, one that would never heal. "If you want to argue who the throne truly belongs to, then I would say it doesn't belong to any of us. My father took my aunt, Queen Rhaena's and her daughters, Aerea and Rhaella's throne, because the realm rallied behind him. My brother became heir after my death, because my father decreed it. The Kings word is the law, and the King declared Baelon his heir, thus transferring the so-called right to the throne to his line. If you continue feeling slighted, you will ruin any possibility for a future relationship with your grandsons.", Aemon warned his daughter. Her father had rarely scolded her or seemed disappointed in her, now he did scold her and looked deeply disappointed.

"Besides Daemon cares more for his blood than you. He picked Viserys side, because that is what Baelon taught him, brothers support each other. Baelon and I did, my nephew only followed our example. And he knew his family was in danger, should you win.", shaking his head, the pale prince sighed, looking towards the sea. "Whatever do you mean father? I would never!", Rhaenys exclaimed. "You wouldn't have, your husband however would have. Corlys would have arranged incident to happen to all of them. To Viserys and Daemon and made Aemma infertile or even killed her along with Viserys. He would have forced Rhaenrya to marry young, and she would have died miserable. Only to ensure his blood and name got the throne in the end. He wouldn't be capable of that now, but back then, I am quite certain he would have gone that far. Viserys side was just simple more convincing. Even an armada of ships cannot do anything against a dragon. With Aemma came the Vale's army and of course Daemons assembled sellswords.", he answered.

"I would have lost either way?", she questioned. "In this world? Yes. In another no. But all that matters now is that you lost and Viserys line, Rhaenyra's line sits on the Thorne now. Your blood and mine will sit on it soon enough, with Aerion." "He and Baelon are truly Laenor's sons? From his own seed?", she needed to ask, the birthmark was quite the indicator for the truth, but she needed to hear it. "As your good-daughter said, she had no relationship with any man besides Laenor. Those twins are his. And in a few years they will have the same hair colour, your father, and your cousin had. The second coming of Baelon with Aemon's pale hair. And Aerion will be Aemma's reflection with your son's curls.", Jocelyn said.

"I hated them for nothing." "That you did. But the gods are willing to give you one second chance. Change our attitude now and the twins will not grow up to resent you so much. But Rhaenys and daemons forgiveness is something we cannot promise. I doubt those two will trust anyone other than themselves and each other.", her mother confirmed.

Her parent's appearances began to flicker. "Mother? Father?", she asked, desperate to speak more with them. "We will see each other again Rhaenys. Fret not we will wait until you join us and watch over your son. He is happy here, reunited with his love. Look forward and not backwards. Remember what we taught you.", her father's voice grew tender. Jocelyn and Aemon embraced their only child, kissing her forehead softly. "Goodbye.", a whisper and her parents were gone. She was alone on the beach, watching low waves crash against the shore. A distant shattering noise woke her and second later Rhaenys shot up in her bed. A young servant already apologized to an older one and when they noticed her being awake, they both apologized for waking her up.

"Please excuse his clumsiness, princess. The boy is still new and normally not assigned to such tasks. I will take full responsibility for his mistake.", the older servant hastily said. "No need. There was no harm done. Please ask the maids to prepare my clothes and send a message to the crown princess. I wish to spend the day with her and my grandchildren. Send one to my husband as well and inform him of my message to our good-daughter." If the servants were confused by her sudden change in addressing the twins and the hostess, then they did not show it. "Of course, as you wish princess.", bowing their heads, cleaning the mess up and leaving the room with haste.

Soon after the maids brought fresh water and a new gown. Her attendants knew her well enough, bringing one of the yellow and black ones, inspired by the gowns her mother used to wear. Fleshing up and cleaning the sweat she let the maids help her into her dress. Lacing the dress as tight as always. Rhaenys picked the only yellow jewellery she had brought with her from Driftmark. For many years she rarely wore yellow or red or black, mostly favouring sea green and blue dresses. The colours that represented her husband's house. Her parents were right she had been a coward in the past years, bowing to her husbands will, instead of making him consider hers.

As incredible as it was, that her parents had shown themselves in her dream, she knew it was true. It seemed the gods had enough and were rising once again. Truthfully she had neglected her prayers, favouring the Merling King over the Fourteen Flames. The gods had shown themselves, taken her children as retribution. Laena may be alive, but she had likely lost herself in her maddening grief. Her daughter was no more. She would never be able to give up hope, but it was better to focus on the family members she could help. Namely, Rhaenyra and her grandsons. Without a doubt she would have to grovel quite a bit, especially if Daemon had anything to say. Her cousin was an unforgiving man.

A knock alerted her of Corlys coming. "Wife.", he greeted. "Husband.", she greeted courtly. Corlys wore his usual attire, blue pants and a sea blue doublet, the Velaryon banner in silver stitched in the centre of his doublet. It was less dramatic stitched outfit than she was used to, but he kept to wearing his favourite colours. He stared at her outfit for a few moments, stunned enough, that he remained utterly silent. "Any special occasion, wife?", he asked. "Do I need one, husband?", she replied. Sputtering, because he was not used to that attitude of hers, he answered: "Of course not. I am only surprised by your choice. Nothing more." "And why pray ell are you surprised at me wearing my mother's and father's colours?", she questioned, eyebrow rising to her hairline. "I did not want to upset you, Rhaenys. I am just used to you wearing blue gowns.", he defended himself, hands raised in surrender.

But before an argument could break out, the arrival of a servant interrupted them. "Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, the crown Princess invites you to break your fast with her and spend the morning with your grandchildren in the nursery.", the servant bowed and delivered her niece's response. "Please inform her, that we will be pleased to do so.", Corlys regained his composure quickly. "What of my cousin the King?", Rhaenys asked. "The King, the Queen, and their children are invited to dine with them as well, princess." "Where will we be dinning?" "The Chamber of the painted table, Mylord." "We will be there shortly.", Rhaenys said. The servant, whose name she had not head, bowed respectful and left them alone.

They spoke no more and arm in arm, as was appropriate for a married couple, they walked towards the Chamber of the Painted Table. Already sitting there were daemon and Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra at the head of one side, Daemon on her right, between them the twins. Viserys and his family had yet to arrive. Rhaenys sat down on Rhaenyra's left, which earned her a surprised look from her husband and her niece. Corlys sat down next to her, dutifully waiting until the King finally joined them.

Viserys took a seat at the other head of the table, the Queen to his right, their eldest beside her, the two younger ones on Viserys left. Her cousin looked mournful, because his daughter was out of his reach and his wife looked offended for some unknown reason. To her surprise their breakfast happened without any drama, not even the Queen consort dared to complain about anything, not while her husband seemed so obvious in favouring his daughter. Without her father to guide her and stir Viserys' favour towards the Greens, she was powerless here in Rhaenyra's domain and seat.

Daemon could say he was surprised by his cousins decision to start playing the dotting grandmother. A worried Rhaenyra had woken him up and informed him of Rhaenys desire to spent the day with the twins and her. Rhaenys always had an alternative motive for everything. He doubted she was sincere in her act. But he would carefully watch his cousins every move. Rhaenyra and him arrived first in the Chamber of the painted table, the twins only half awake. They sat them down between them, so they could assist the boys if they needed their help.

Rhaenys and Corlys arrived next, taking a seat on Rhaenyra's left, surprising both his niece and him. Neither tried to start any conversation, but the silence between them was not one he would describe as uncomfortable. But it was getting uncomfortable when Viserys arrived, already unhappy to sit so far away from his daughter. And only the gods knew why his whore of a wife was upset so early.

The breakfast went on without any incident, even the green brats behaved themselves. Soon after Alicent and her children left again to change their attire, it seemed like she could not stand to be dressed in the same outfit for long. And the two boys his brother has sired on her, had messed around with their food a bit, he was used to that, the twins sometimes did that and his niece also had done it. After the breakfast was finished all of them went to the nursery. After eating the twins were always sleepy, and they would ask for milk in a few hours.

"Your Grace, Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, you have yet to meet your grandsons dragons.", Rhaenyra addressed the three elder Valyrian, when they reached the nursery. Ignoring the Queen, how looked offended at not being addresses as well. Daemon stood behind her shoulder, carrying the twins, who began to lazily clap their hands and stretch their limps, reaching for the hatchlings. Both perked up after smelling their future riders scent. He set the boys down carefully, inside the crib reuniting them with the baby dragons. Sunfyre chirped and crawled up his leg, perching himself on his shoulder.

"They are beautiful.", Viserys said, tearing up at watching his grandsons interact with the hatchlings. Aerion‘s green dragon snapped at his elder brother's hand's. Unhappy whenever anyone but Rhaenyra wanted to touch his future rider. Baelon's hatchling just curled around the young boy and stretched his still small wings, tying to cover as much as possible of his future rider's body. "They are possessive and very protective. Daemon and several Dragonkeepers were bitten by them already.", his niece warned her father. "Ah, naturally. Silly of me to forget a hatchling's behaviour. Syrax was the same with you. Snapping at everyone.", the King chuckled. "I think they should be chained in the pit, rather than remaining free. They could harm someone, my love.", the Queen commented. "If our sons had dragons, I would not allow them to remain inside their nursery. You should be ashamed Rhaenyra, endangering your children with keeping these beasts around." Daemon snorted and rolled his eyes at her. "Something funny prince Daemon?", she snapped.

"Yes indeed. You think yourself clever Hightower. But you know nothing of dragons, you cannot decide what happens to them, so I would suggest you keep your mouth shut.", he answered, hand on the pommel of his sword. "How dare you!", she hissed, turning to Viserys to see if he would do anything, but his brother was focused on the twins and Tessarion, who was currently nestled in Rhaenyra's arms. "Viserys you cannot let this stand. They should be locked away!", the Queen wanted to gain his brother's attention, but Rhaenys spoke up.

"It seems my cousins has neglected to inform you, that every cradle hatchling remained with the Targaryen child they hatched for, for several years, until they are too big to be housed inside. Your children have no dragons or eggs that will hatch, and my grandsons dragons are not under your jurisdiction." "I am the Queen and matriarch of House Targaryen!", Alicent exclaimed. "You are the Kings wife and the realms Queen, but not our Houses matriarch. Only a Valyrian blooded female can be that. The last matriarch was my cousin, Queen Aemma. And the next will be my good-daughter. You do not wear the Targaryen name, you have no Targaryen or Valyrian blood, therefore cannot be a Targaryen matriarch. As our traditions say. I thought you informed her of this Viserys.", Rhaenys swiftly corrected the girl. "I...I forgot to inform her of such.", the King admitted. Daemon scoffed, but remained silent, when his niece looked at him with pleading eyes.

Alicent had only brought her two eldest children with her, her current youngest needed to have a nap as well. Maybe she had learned from her mistake. "What of the other two eggs, the two you took from the pit? They have hatched should they not be transported back to the pit?", the queen was definitely trying to gain hatchlings for her children, but they way of dragons choosing a rider was mysterious. But no one could demand for a dragon to bond with anyone. "We had that conversation already wife. The two hatchlings remain in Daemon's and my daughter's care. On Dragonstone.", the king answered without looking.

Daemon observed, how Alicent gripped her green skirts until her knuckles were white. "Then perhaps our children will have the chance to claim them here, right now.", she asked, guiding her eldest forward. A dumb idea, all Valyrian present thought, but they could not speak up before the Hightower woman carelessly ushered her son and daughter towards Daemon and Rhaenyra.

Dragons were always protective of their riders, even when they were still hatchlings. The two small hatchlings were agitated by the Queens movement, shrieking and shielding their bonded humans with their wings. Daemon knew what the hatchlings body language meant. They saw the queen and her children as threats. "Dragons.", surely since the boy arrived her, the Hightower heir had said that, Daemon simple ignored him. The girl stayed quiet, trying to hide.

"I would not do that, if I were you.", he warned. His warning falling on deaf ears. Sunfyre stretched his wings and growled, angered by the woman in the green dress. The little hatchling was overwhelmed and agitated. Just in case, he took a step back, stepping in front of Rhaenyra and the hissing Tessarion. While the two hatchlings would never be their bonded dragons, since they already had Caraxes and Syrax, they were quite clingy to them. "You already have dragons Prince Daemon. There should be no problem giving these dragons to my children!", the Hightower girl exclaimed.

"Viserys get your wife under control, or someone will get hurt. We all can see the hatchlings are angry and not interested in your children.", Rhaenys interfered. "Viserys, our children...", the Queen began, but Viserys shout interrupted and silenced her. "Enough, I wish to spend a relaxed day with my grandchildren. The hatchlings belong on Dragonstone and show aggression towards our children. They will not accept them. It is best you leave now Alicent." "But..my love...I", she protested. "Leave and take them with you. I wish to be left alone with our obsession. We will  board the ship today in the evening and return to Kingslanding, until then I do not wish to hear anything more from you.", he thundered. Frightened Alicent grabbed her children and left the nursery. His niece looked after her with pity in her gaze, but was quickly distracted by her father.

His brother had no idea what kind of blow he delivered. Rebuffing and scolding his wife, sending her away with servants present, hidden and out of view of course, but rumours would surely begin to spread soon. Sunfyre and Tessarion settled soon after. As did the two other hatchlings. All four were tired from the exitement a few minutes ago and fell asleep easily. He gently laid Sunfyre down near the fireplace Rhaenyra did the same with Tessarion.

Then his niece guided his brother, cousin and Corlys to a table not far away. Sitting down in a comfortable chair. "If I may ask, princess, where is Laena's daughter?", Corlys was the first to speak. Since Daemon had positioned himself right behind Rhaenyra's shoulder, leaning against a pillar behind him, he could watch the three other's faces. Viserys winced at the mention of Laena's bastard, Rhaenys remained stone faced. "She is as well as she can be. A few days ago she caught a cold. Your granddaughter is in the care of Maester Gerardys. I have no doubt she will be better soon. Normally she sleeps in the second crib, right next to the twins." "Do the dragons accept her presence?", the Lord of the Tides asked. "They tolerate it. All four are more interest in my sons, Daemon and me. Thus far they have not shown aggressive behaviour to her.", Rhaenyra answered curtly, wary of her former good-father's next words.

"Though we think, that is because she tends to smell a bit similar to my niece.", he said. "How so?", his brother wondered. "Because she nurses her with her milk.", was his simple answer. "Regardless, I think none of you are here because you only wish to spend time with my sons.", his niece said, stirring the conversation into another direction. She had asked, the good hostess she was, the servants to bring water and wine. Of course only Viserys was unable to hear her accusative tone.

"I wish for you to come home Rhaenyra.", Viserys said, more straightforward than ever. Unusual behaviour for his elder brother. Daemon scowled a bit, but was put at ease, when his niece declined. "I am home father. I have no wish to return to Kingslanding yet. Not when you and your council will try to force me to remarry, despite knowing I buried my husband only a few weeks ago." "Rhaenyra as my heir, it is your duty to remarry and ensure the Targaryen line prospers.", the King argued. "I have two healthy heirs, and I will not be subjected to another ridiculous tour where old men and boy's younger than me think they have a chance to use me as their breeding mare. You subjected my mother to that fate and your new wife as well, I will not allow it to happen a second time!", his niece was getting angry.

"No one wants to use you Rhaenyra, but you need a new consort." "I will decide if I take another husband father. Should I, he will be my choice. Alicent was yours and I will pick my second husband, after the morning period is over. You did not show up to the funeral, I do not wish to hear any excuses, you do not mourn Laenor, I do.", his princess snapped. "Rhaenyra I..." "No father, all I hear when you talk is your Hand. Who urged you to remarry, who urged you to remove Daemon as heir, who now urges you to remove me as heir and install Aegon. You promised me you would never set me aside for Alicent Hightower's son, but you have done nothing to discourage anyone from supporting my half-brother's claim. You have listened to Alicent and her father but refused to listen to me. Not only that, you did not give me a voice in your council until I begged you to. I remained your cupbearer for years when I was already heir."

Daemon gritted his teeth, angry at his brother idiotic behaviour and blindness, but once family member shouting at him was enough. The twins woke up, startled by their, normally calm, mother raising her voice. Immediately going to soothe the twins, Daemon stopped his brother from following or saying another word. "I think you should depart early brother. You and your wife have caused enough stress.", taking his brother arm, he guided him out of the room. Without a word he shut the nursery door in his brother's face. No one except him would dare to treat the King like that, but he had promised Rhaenyra to protect her and be on her side. His brother was hurting her, and he had enough of that. So throwing him out was the easiest solution.

"Daemon, you cannot just shut the door in the King's face!", his niece exclaimed, face pale, afraid her father would order his guard to arrest him. "He understood the message. See he is gone.", opening the door, his brother was no longer there, nor were his guards, only Ser Erryk guarding the door as he often did. "Do you have anything to upset my niece with, if you do, you can see yourself out.", he turned towards Rhaenys and Corlys, who had stayed silent for the entire exchange between Rhaenyra and Viserys.

“I am aware you will not believe me and think I wish to confuse you, but I am sincere.", Rhaenys spoke. "I will hear you out.", his niece decided. "Before I say anything I want to ask you a question." "Go on." "Do the twins have a birthmark?" "Both have. Though different ones.", Rhaenyra answered. Confused she looked his cousin in the eyes. "You are revering to the small birthmark in form of the stags antlers behind Baelon's ear, along his neck. And the one Aerion has, it looks like an island with a small crown inside it, on the bottom of his arm.", Daemon guessed. "Yes they are similar to the ones my mother and....", Corlys fished the sentence for her: "and my grandfather had." "So now you believe they are your grandsons, despite denying it for a whole year and tormenting their mother.", he drawled, arms crossed over his chest, looking sceptical.

"I know you won't believe me Daemon. But I was visited by my parents. They opened my eyes." The Rouge Prince scoffed, not believing her. She was talking as if she had one of those prophetic Dreams their ancestor Daenys had. "The Fourteen granted you a dream and a chance.", Rhaenyra said. "You are not truly willing to believe her little dragon!", he exclaimed. "I believe her uncle, that doesn't mean I excuse or forgive her action." He shut his mouth and laid a hand on her chair. "I will not ask for your forgiveness, but I will work for it. My son is dead, but his sons are not. I own it to him, to you as well to treat them well. My anger and my disinheritance blinded me. I was angry with Viserys and Daemon, instead I treated you bad to let out my frustration.", it sounded like a sincere apology, but Daemon was much less trusting than his niece. Still not convinced.

"I will need time, princess Rhaenys." "Of course. I am a raven away. I am prepared to wait for your answer." Her eyes travelled towards the cradle the twins slept in and the chair beside it. A hesitant nod from Rhaenyra and his cousin stood up, taking seat beside the cradle. "The hatchlings will protect them uncle. And you are here.", Rhaenyra murmured in High Valyrian, both aware Rhaenys could understand them. Not that she tried to listen, to focused on the sleeping twins.

He kept his eyes on Rhaenys, his inner dragon unhappy to see her near the hatchlings, growling like Caraxes did when someone angered him. "What do you have to say to me, Lord Corlys.", his niece turned to her former good-father. "I wish to ask for your permission to take Baelon as my ward.", he began, vehemently rebuked by the princess seconds later. "No. I will not let you take my son away. You wish for him to replace Laenor in your heart and head Lord Corlys. My son deserves more than that. I will allow him to visit, when he is the appropriate age. Maybe he will foster with you when he had reached his ten and second nameday. Not sooner.", a mother dragon was displeased that someone dared to suggest she give away her child.

"I understand, princess. I had no intention to upset you." "Let me be frank Lord Corlys. I am not the most fond of you. I have been nice for Laenor's sake and for my son's sake. I do not wish for them to grow up without two grandsires. I lost mine too early and my father is a bad example for a parent or grandparent. He sees them as pawns, he can use to secure and strengthen the legacy he will leave behind. My sons will not be used by him or you. I am prepared to kill and have Syrax burn you, should you try. Laenor and I have tortured ourselves to conceive these boys. They are a gift from the gods for me. Keep your ambition aside, and I will not have to tell my son's their grandsire is an ambitious cunt who does not truly care about them."

Corlys winced he knew as much as the others in the nursery, that Rhaenyra meant every single word. "We can make it easy for each other, or I can make your life very difficult from today on. You decide which path you take." "I understand princess. Seems like I must also apologize to you. There is no remedy for my ambition, but I will swear by the Merling King, I will respect your conditions." "Baelon will not foster before his ten and third nameday, but he and Aerion will be allowed to visit Driftmark as often as he wants. You, Lord Corlys will be allowed to visit the twins, on the condition that a letter informs me beforehand. And no long voyages to distant lands until they reached ten and four. I have nothing against them learning about their Velaryon heritage. Laenor would have taught them everything they know, when they ask I will give them my consent that they learn everything about sailing they wish to know from you.", she stated her conditions. "Of course, princess."

So it seemed his great-nephews gained their grandparents back. He was still sceptical, he knew Rhaenyra also was hesitant to believe the Lord and Lady of Driftmark. The day went on in peace, he and Rhaenyra saw Viserys and his whore, as well as their children off, leaving Ser Erryk inside the nursery, to watch Rhaenys and Corlys. Then they dined together and had supper with them as well. The married couple was still icy with each other, despite Corlys obvious attempts to  make conversation with his wife. It seemed whatever nonsense his cousin dreamed had given her much to think about. He watched their every move around Rhaenyra and her hatchlings. Nothing betrayed their earlier proclamations, not yet. He would remain on alert.

During supper and dinner Rhaenys asked Rhaenyra many questions about the twins, his niece's answers only hesitant and vague. Corlys was interested, if Daemon had any news regarding the Stepstones. The prince did not go into great detail, but explained his plans and the islands progress roughly. Corlys also asked him about the Dornish being invited to his grandsons nameday. He had explained, that they had not waged war on Westeros, only on House Velaryon, thus no enemies to the royals. It would have been rude not to send an invitation. He was as surprised as everyone when the Dornish delegation truly showed up. And it seemed they had decided it was better for them, not to be on the crown princess bad side.

Their conversation went on and on, and if they were not talking, then the two elder Valyrian’s were busy staring at the hatchlings of their grandsons. Originally Daemon had thought one of the two unnamed hatchling was a female, but both were male dragons. From the four hatched baby dragons, only Tessarion was a female. Before they had retired, Rhaenys had asked about the fate of Sunfyre and Tessarion. His answer was easy, none of her business. Rhaenyra as princess of Dragonstone would decide it, when the time was right they would return to the Dragonmont, maybe before the twins dragons or together with them, the decision was yet to be made.

Finally, after hours of enduring his insufferable cousin and her husband, he had his peace. Though neither had left before they were allowed to see their other grandchild. Rhaenyra's golden heart was an advantage for them. So they were granted entrance to Maester Gerardys rooms, or rather those he treated the young girl in. After that he was glad he would not have to see his relatives for a while. What he wanted was to watch Rhaenyra with her sons and the hatchlings. Though he doubted he would see much of her tomorrow. Because of their long conversations with Laenor's parents, she had barely got any work done.

Leaning against a pillar he watched as his niece dressed herself again, after Aerion fished feeding. "It is inappropriate for you to watch me, uncle. What would my father say?", she jested, laying down her son next to his sleeping brother again. "We had that discussion already, niece. I plan to never again leave your side, in no situation." "If you say so, just do not let anyone discover us and I will not complain." He knew a part of her was thrilled at his attention, but kept quiet. While he would always desire his niece, she had not allowed him any further contact, this time he would play after her rules.

But right now, something else besides his plan to gain her trust and heart, occupied his thoughts. "Do you think they are truthful or lying for their benefit?", he asked. Humming Rhaenyra turned her gaze away from the twins. Already dressed in her nightgown and her hair braided by Elinda into a loose braid she could sleep comfortably with. "Not sure, I am still not that good at discovering the true intentions of our immediate family uncle." "We shall see with time. Having them on our side would serve our cause certainly better than having them as enemies." "Time will tell.", she agreed. "Thank you Daemon.", all of a sudden Rhaenyra kissed his check. He raised his eyebrow in question. Her answer was a charming smile and a "Good night uncle".

His niece was ready to play a game she was sure she would win. Teasing him, taunting him, as she had done before the brothel incident. Slowly his niece was beginning to get as comfortable as in her childhood around him. Nothing would stop him from making her feel at ease with him, nothing would stop him from becoming her second husband. Rhaenyra was his choice and he would fight gods if he had to prove himself to her. He had a year to persuade her, before had to consider which suitor, her father would send her way, he could kill without causing a problem for her claim. More determined than ever he stared into the sky, and he swore the stars were shining brighter than usual.

Chapter Text

From the first time her she had heard her riders voice, Syrax knew it was her time to hatch. She had waited for the right silver haired child to be born, her destinies other half. The piece that was missing and prevented her from hatching. When she finally heard the cry of her rider, she fought to get out of her shell. It took time, but all the effort was worth the outcome. When she finally was reunited with her rider. Rhaenyra, she learned, was her name. Her Rhaenyra. Though she had to share her little rider with three others. All silver haired like her rider, but older. Two smelled of fire, though one more so, the other had only a faint and more sickly smell on him.

The other female barely smelt of fire and shrieked back when Syrax called out in greeting. Only the male with long silver hair smelling of fire, smoke. and something else simply laughed and came closer. To close to her Rhaenyra. But her hissing and roaring (impressive feat for a few minutes old hatchling) didn't stop him. Instead, he stopped above the cradle and cooed some words in the dragon's language."Now you proved yourself worthier than grandfather could have ever hoped for." 

The tender smile the male gave her baby rider calmed Syrax, but to be sure she covered her small body with hers barring her tiny teeth at the older male. He backed off and took the other two with him, finally leaving Syrax alone with her Rhaenyra. From then on she grew alongside her. Watching her rider age with her. Their souls sang in the same tune, to the same melody and would do so for as long as her rider lived. Syrax didn't care to learn the other riders names, they weren't hers so she wasn't interested in them, aside from the male smelling of another dragon. She learned that he was Rhaenyra's uncle and was called Daemon. Remembering the males name came easy, because he grew to be her Rhaenyra's favourite person. 

He didn't send Syrax away or tried to separate her from her other half. Unlike her girls sire and dam. They didn't think it was safe to leave Syrax with Rhaenyra. As if she would ever let any harm come to her. She enjoyed walking or flying (after finally mastering it) after her rider. It was easier to keep an eye on her that way. It wasn't nice not being near her. But the more both of them grew, the less her riders dam and sire were inclined to leave Syrax with their child. Convinced she would do harm.

Syrax didn't like the stone building the other dragons lived in. It smelled of iron and misery. But when the humans in funny clothes came and chained her down for the first time, she felt true sorrow for the first time. They had separated her from Rhaenyra. Not long after she felt her little riders panic through their bond. Her desperation to find Syrax. The girls feelings fuelled Syrax determination, and she snapped the weak chains, roaring with all her might (the might of a juvenile dragon). However before she could get out of the stone building a large plain blue dragon stopped her. Warning her to obey the humans with the sticks and pushing her back.

Dreamfyre the dragon was called, an old and lazy dragon, that did nothing more than mourn her eggs and sat in her cave. It was Dreamfyre's roaring that kept her up. But Syrax didn't let the older dragon deter her from her goal. She slipped away, (it was helpful having a more slender and smaller body than the large dragon), but instead of meeting her rider she had bumped into the crimson scales of the serpentine dragon Rhaenyra's uncle always smelled of.

Daemon had often brought Rhaenyra and thus also Syrax along with him to the building to visit his dragon. The crimson Caraxes. A fierce, if a bit grumpy male. At first, she thought he was shy, because he wouldn't greet her, but then she heard his roar. So different from those she had heard before. Unlike the stories Dreamfyre liked to tell about him, Syrax found his roar wonderful. A melody she longed to hear more often. Since the red dragon refused to acknowledge her, she was determined not to be ignored. So she bit him and that got his attention. Though it also made Rhaenyra mad at her. While Daemon only laughed and watched with interest how she (a small golden/yellow hatchling) approached the much bigger war dragon without fear.

Caraxes didn't hurt her, instead he was careful with her. Almost tender in his approach. She greeted him with her own roar and from then on, whenever Daemon took them to visit Caraxes she would either ride on his back, curled around Rhaenyra, who was held by Daemon, or curled up behind the saddle. Then later when she could finally fly on her own, she flew with him. No matter if he carried Daemon and Rhaenyra on his back or the few times the humans with the sticks let him out on his own. She grew used to him. And adored spending time with him.

When she bumped into him and told him why she was so distressed his high pitched whistle calmed her. Informing her that it was normal for juveniles to live apart from their riders. But she wouldn't be alone. Rhaenyra would never leave her inside the stone building. Like his Daemon her Rhaenyra would come to visit often. That was how a distressed Rhaenyra and a worried Daemon found the two. Curled next to each other cooing and chirping to each other. Sadly her happy life with Caraxes near her ended soon. Because he and his rider had to leave so frequantly. She was delighted whenever he was there, but grew used to not hearing him any more. Her hope of him staying never lasted long. Though one time both her rider and she were so frustrated that they chased after them and flew for the first time. While Syrax had been a juvenile, her rider had still been a hatchling. But her brave Rhaenyra didn't care, she only wanted to stop Daemon and Caraxes from leaving. Same as Syrax.

To achieve that they flew after them, ignoring the priced humans with sticks. Chased after them until the older males finally realized they were there. Then Caraxes had directed her to fly back. As soon as she touched down he was there nosing her, looking for injuries and scolding her with his high-pitched whistle. Same for daemon, who had taken Rhaenyra into his arms and scolded her. But with a proud smile, if a little pale in the face. They celebrated their first flight and enjoyed their company for a few months, until Caraxes and Daemon had to leave again. With each moon that passed, Syrax learned to no longer wait. Many moons passed, and she had finally grown out of her juvenile phase and was a grown dragon. Smaller, because she was young, but she was sure she would one day surpass Dreamfyre. The only other interesting dragon aside from Caraxes in the stone building was Vermithor. Her sire.

The older dragon let her play on his back and rarely corrected her. While Dreamfyre and Silverwing fussed over her and always chatted about their eggs. Vhagar was too big to fit in the building with them, so she rarely saw the ancient dragon. Though neither Vermithor nor Silverwing liked her very much. And then there was Meleys. Another female she never truly met. Only when she and her rider Rhaenys, a relative of her Rhaenyra, came to visit with Meleys. But the red dragon rarely interacted with the smaller female. Syrax didn't like Meleys that much, she was mean to Caraxes. Nearly as mean as Dreamfyre.

Sadly as the moons passed she would have to further interact with Meleys. Because Rhaenyra would marry her rider's hatchling. A boy that smelled of the sea and weakly of fire. Laenor, rider of Seasmoke. A younger male dragon, though somehow he was a little larger. According to the chatty Seasmoke, he had plenty of freedom of his riders island and enough fish to feast on. His freedom did him good. Syrax was nearly jealous, but freedom would mean leaving Rhaenyra. Something that she would never do. Truthfully Syrax didn't really get along with Seasmoke. Because she didn't like his rider. He made her sweet Rhaenyra miserable. Nearly as much as the snake in green, that once had been Rhaenyra's friend and visited Syrax with her in their childhood. Syrax barely liked Laenor more than her riders siblings, that smelled of weak fire, instead of the string scent of smoke and ashes Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys had.

Certainly disliking it when the snake brought any of the screaming hatchlings to look at the unhatched eggs of Dreamfyre. None called to them and none chose them as their riders. Which made the woman huff and complain in agitation, until Syrax had roared in irritation and sent the women running. The only good thing that had happened, was that Rhaenyra gained two hatchlings of her own. Smelling strongly like her, but they also had the scent of sea and salt on them. Aerion and Baelon. Rhaenyra told Syrax of them whenever she could visit. To Syrax misfortune her Rhaenyra became busier with each moon and rarely had time. So she sat around in the stone building doing nothing. Until finally one day, the chains were released, and she followed the bonds pull. Stretching her wings and following after Rhaenyra. TO the island Seasmoke called home.

The island wasn't bad, but she also likes the mountain of the dragon island much more. There she had more space and felt better. Despite having to live near Vermithor and Silverwing. At least there she could share a cave with Caraxes. Surprisingly Caraxes awaited her on Seasmoke's island. As did Vhagar. Syrax didn't understand Rhaenyra's and Daemons relationship, but she was thrilled to fly beside Caraxes again. Especially when they flew towards their home. The mountain that once housed the scion of their line. Balerion. A mighty dragon she never met. Syrax nested inside the cave the great Balerion shared with his mate Meraxes. Now she shared it with Caraxes. Her mate. Many times Seasmoke had made advances, but she rejected him, convinced Caraxes was the one for her. Though he had to grovel a bit to earn back her affection. But the moons on the sea island were sued by him. It didn't take long for her to lay their eggs inside their nest. She was thrilled to present them to Rhaenyra.

Caraxes had always felt lonely. The other dragons avoided him, and he learned to live with that. But then a shining light lit up his world. The first time the tiny golden baby dragon touched her snout against his, he saw the world differently. She began seeking him out, spending time with him and his loneliness lessened. As did his beloved Daemons whenever he was in the company of the golden hatchlings future rider. Daemons niece, blood of the dragon. Though Daemon could not manage to stay long in one place. Naturally Caraxes went with him everywhere. He had lost Aemon, he wouldn't lose Daemon. For many moons the golden hatchling was simply a companion, but with age Caraxes saw her differently. Especially since the day their riders had an arguments over one of the unhatched eggs and Caraxes finally saw Syrax again.

Beautiful and graceful as ever gliding thought he air, her roar a melody he couldn't stop listening and responding to. Of course Daemon once again acted rashly and Syrax left. After that he only saw her once more, before Daemon asked him to fly far away from the pit. Truthfully Caraxes had thought about dunking his riders head in seawater. Maybe then he would understand, that Caraxes did not appreciate Vhagar's company. He had grown used to the old dragon, but her moaning over Visenya and her need to burn something annoyed him. He was never against burning something down (especially not if it made his rider happy), but the old dragon was annoyingly chatty. Furthermore, he missed Syrax. So he was particularly thrilled when his rider finally decided to return.

On the sea island Vhagar's new rider was born on, he spent every free moment at Syrax side. As soon as she landed, she made it clear he had grovelling to do, if he wanted to return to her good grace. He burnt his riders enemies for years, convincing the alurring she-dragon to become his mate shouldn't be too hard. It turned out the spoiled golden hatchling, was stilled spoiled and made him work for her attention.

Though now he was more than content. They shared a cave in the depth of the mountain on their ancestor's island. And two of their hatchlings had found their riders. Rhaenyra's children. Caraxes had barely recognised the young female. But she was unmistakably Daemons beloved. Tough Caraxes had done a better job at capturing his lady's attention. His rider still struggled with that. However, that was of no concern to him. What concerned him was Vermithor and Silverwing being noise and keeping Syrax happy. Which also meant to keep their remaining hatchlings safe from the vicious black dragon that resided on the island. Many hatchlings had fallen prey to him, but none of his offspring would be eaten by that arrogant Kinslayer. No dragon of the dragon island liked the shadow. And after an especially vicious clash with the shadow, where Syrax had proven herself, the black dragon had backed off and not dared to disturb them again. 

Caraxes adored his golden lady's temperament, though sometimes she left him disgruntled when she nearly pushed him away to get to Rhaenyra. Then he always sought consultation with Daemon, who seemed equally disgruntled for being discarded by his niece to spend time with her dragon. Daemon was the other half of his soul, a fierce warrior like his Aemon before him, but with more fire and temperament. Nevertheless, he was unhappy when they flew away from their home, leaving their eggs and hatchlings behind. At least Syrax was with him. And he got to burn some pirates, that offended his rider. And he got to watch his mate prove herself in battle for the first time. Though he did not like that the humans pointed their sharp weapons towards his mate and enjoyed burning their ships in retribution. Nevertheless, he would rather be on the dragon island, then on the small salty island. Thankfully his rider didn't wish to remain there long, and soon they were on the way home. When they finally landed back home, Caraxes enjoyed the moons he could spend in peace with Syrax. And their riders. Who took them on regular flights and unlike in that wretched pit didn't let the humans with sticks chain them. It was wonderful to be able to stretch his wings whenever he wanted. And hunt with Syrax whenever he wished to.

It was enjoyable to spend all of his time with Syrax. Even Silverwing and Vermithor's presence could bring down his good mood. Rhaenyra and Daemon often brought Rhaenyra's two hatchlings and thus also his own hatchlings. The bonded dragons of those tiny humans. They had yet to be named, but he was sure Daemon would come up with good names for their hatchlings. Rhaenrya's offspring had family names. Aerion and Baelon. One was named for Daemon's sire. The two hatchlings didn't exactly look like their dam, their hair not silver or golden like Daemon and Rhaenyra's, but they had streaks of white hair. And they smelt like Rhaenyra. Of fire and smoke. They were dragons. After all dragon recognised kin.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra’s heart soared when she watched her twins play with Daemon. Her boys had grown and were already two name days old, soon to be three. To her, it seemed like yesterday when they were placed in her arms for the first time. Baelon and Aerion were determined to get their uncle to fall. With their wooden swords they hit his legs. Her uncle was smirking and feigning defeat. Which had her boys giggling in delight. Their hatchlings resting near them, raised their heads when they heard their riders shriek. Vermax and Arrax were playing in the low grass not far from them. Syrax and Caraxes lounging on the warm stones enjoying the sun. It eased her heart to know they had their dragons and Daemon to protect them when she could not.

A year ago she had started to spend a week each moon in Kingslanding. Attending to her duties as heir and sitting in the council meetings. (Which her father always, if there was no immediate problem that needed his attention, held in the last week of the moon.) Before then, she had not been able to be away from her boys for so long each moon. But now they were slowly getting older and becoming more independent. Besides Daemon loved spoiling them and spending time with them. Teaching them High Valyrian. (Of course their mother tongue would be Aerion’s and Baelon’s first language.) Same as it had been for her. It was likely they would have an accent once they began to properly speak common. Her sons understood it perfectly well, but refused to speak it more than a few words.

Rhaenyra felt pity for the maids and guards she put in charge of her children. They were troublemakers but no one could be mad at them for long. Not with their magnetic innocent eyes staring into one's soul. Her eldest was already starting to become a leader. Always the first to do something, to try something reckless or new. While his younger brother was more careful and cautious. Especially around strangers. Her youngest had yet to warm up to his grandparents. He preferred to spend time with her in her chambers or in the dragon mount with Arrax. Though he loved listening to Lord Corlys stories of his voyages. She had to threaten the Lord of Driftmark with dismemberment if he dared to take her son (his heir) on one of his voyages before his tenth nameday. Neither Daemon nor Rhaenys stood in her way. Instead, they nodded along. Since that day Rhaenyra swore her good-father looked at her with a different kind of respect than before.

She also had to threaten her uncle, because he had gifted her sons swords on their second nameday. That man was unbelievable. Those swords weren’t even normal steel practice swords. No, of course not. Her uncle would never give his nephews something so mediocre. Instead, those swords were nearly as long as Dark Sister and made out of Valyrian steel. Only the gods knew where he had got so much Valyrian steel from to have these swords made. Despite her pleading, begging and repeatedly asking he never revealed which smith could work with the ancient and unbreakable iron. Despite her anger about such dangerous gifts (who gave toddlers actual sharp steel?!) she was grateful. Daemon had ensured her sons had something of their heritage, aside from their dragon’s.

In the weeks she spent in Kingslanding it became clear to her how different her half-siblings were raised. Her family had raised her with the old beliefs. She as every Targaryen was a follower of the Fourteen Flames. Of course, she was a spoiled princess who got everything she wanted. She had lessons in etiquette, lessons on the great houses and so on. But she also had more freedom. Her father was often too busy with his kingly duties. Her mother too busy carrying the supposed heir to the throne and spending it resting in her chambers. Only Daemon ever truly had time to play with her. Naturally he also taught her High Valyrian. Aegon, Helaena and Aemond were taught by Maesters. Who barely understood the language themselves. (They were not taught by the dragon keeper like she was when her uncle was away.)

They did not have kekepa Baelon who often sang to her in their mother language. Who took them flying on Vhagar whenever his sons weren’t looking or to busy bickering with each other. In the years she spent mainly living on Dragonstone she realized how much she missed her grandfather when she was in Kingslanding. Her parents were often absent, of course she was aware they loved her. But she also knew they were nervous about her fate. She had grown too old to be married to her future brother, and they feared marrying her to another house, thus granting that house access to her dragon. Daemon was often busy with the City Watch or with angering either her father or great-grandfather. He loved her and adored her. Spent as much time as he could with her but back then he was also a young man with other desires.

But her grandfather had no such desires. For the first five years of her life her grandfather was a lifeline. Always there. A constant she could rely on. A warm person she trusted. Who she ran to when she had a nightmare or was scared of something. He was there and took his time for her. Laying aside whatever paperwork occupied his time. It had been so long she had forgotten his face, but she would never forget his voice. The voice that soothed her fears and her temper alike. Or his smell that comforted her. Her son Baelon was named in his honour. In his and her deceased brothers. Her last from her mother. A babe that lived mere hours. She was sure her son would bring honour to his name, when he was old enough to understand it’s meaning. Until then, he would remain her beloved baby who, if she had anything to say would never long for anything and would never have to shoulder any burden. When she thought back to her grandfather she sometimes regretted naming her son after him. Worrying she put a burden on him. A legacy that would swallow him alive. But Daemon had reassured her, her son would be like his father but would not have to live the tragedy that was Baelon Targrayen’s life.

Her half-siblings would never have what she had growing up. Otto Hightower was no Baelon Targaryen. He was not a warm or remotely affectionate man. The opposite, he was a cold bastard who used his family members as pawns. Something kekepa Baelon would never have done. In that regard she felt sorry for the three Hightower children. Otherwise, she couldn’t care less. She had no relationship with them. Because their mother did not want them to have one. She tried for the first few months when she visited every moon. But it became clear to her very soon that Aegon was already scared of her and did not want to spend time with his estranged older sister. She was so much older than him, she couldn’t find any middle ground with him. Or anything she had in common with him.

While she dressed in black, red and violet he and his siblings were clad in green and gold. The colours of war. Rhaenyra may be ignorant (until Daemon had ripped the bandages of her eyes and showed her the truth) but she wasn’t stupid. She knew her stepmother did not accept her claim and wanted her eldest son to be the heir. The tradition of Andals was what the Greens based their claim on. But Targrayen’s never bent to Andal tradition before. Until Jaehaerys denied Rhaenys claim on the throne and allowed the realms lords to vote. Thus choosing her father. Who (to her luck) remained steadfast on her being his heir despite having his long awaited son in Alicent Hightowers eldest. Her once friend changed from the timid if clever lady to a virus, self-righteous woman. Celebrating the fact that she gave birth to two sons while her mother’s sons (her brothers who never had a chance to live) died in the cradle or the womb. Of course the Hightower queen never uttered such words in front of her father. King Viserys deeply loved his first wife, a fact Rhaenyra used to her advantage. After all she was her mothers daughter and looked immensely like her.

Over the last few months the Queen and the whole council were grating on her nerves. Even the Hand. Lyonel Strong had replaced Otto Hightower (who was all but banished to Oldtown, for now, sooner or later the aboard would worm his way back in her fathers good graces). The loyal and honest man was one of her two allies in the council. For now only he and Lord Bessbury supported her fully. But she was working on removing Tyland Lannister and Jasper Wylde and the annoying Grand Maester. To replace them with noblemen who would be more inclined to ally with her. For now though all five men (all six if she included her father) were getting on her nerves. They were determined to find her a new husband. To stabilize the succession. Forgetting she already had two heirs. Until last month she had been able to keep them at bay. Extending her mourning of Laenor and using Lord Corlys known temperament to dissuade them.

Now even the threat of the Sea Snakes wrath wasn’t good enough anymore. The crown princess had no desire to marry any Lord of the realm. Minor or great. Laenor had been different. While he had been heir to a great and important house. Had his responsibilities and duties, but he was no stranger. Despite his mistakes he was also her family. Someone who had her back without a thought. Because she was blood. Such loyalty, protection, and feelings would not be natural with any other lord of the realm. First and foremost Laenor had been her cousin. Part Targrayen and he was able to understand her. Better than those Andal Lords could. He knew why she craved the sky, the feeling of wind in her face, the smell of smoke, flames, and steel in her nose. A Targaryen was most at ease with family.

The realms lords could not even offer her the companionship Laenor had been able to afford her. They saw her as a pretty princess who was delusional for thinking she would be the first queen of her dynasty ruling in her own right. They saw her bloodline as a means to an end. To strengthen their bloodline and to gain dragonriders as their descendants. Something that wasn’t guaranteed. Even if she, a pure Valyrian, was their mother it was not guaranteed that half Andal children could claim dragons. Egg, hatchlings or grown ones. Her fathers children were an example of that. Until now none of the three had claimed dragons. Maybe they never would, but there was always the possibility for it.

Since Daemon had mentioned it once a year ago, she had removed all living eggs from the Dragonpit. With the help of the dragon keepers (who were loyal to house Targaryen and not to the Hightowers) she had transported the lively eggs to Dragonstone. Silverwing was happy to watch over them. And Vermithor was happy as long as his mate was happy. So the eggs were protected by the mated pair and would be in no danger from the Cannibal. The hatchlings (Vermax, Arrax, Sunfyre and Tessarion) lived inside the caves as well, inside Syrax and Caraxes cave. For now, sooner rather than later the four dragons would have to choose their own caves. They were growing larger and larger. Soon they would be juveniles. It was true that a dragon grew alongside its rider (if it was a cradle hatchling). But dragons grew faster than humans. Already all four of them were six times as long as her twins. The hatchlings were already flying steadily. She begged the Fourteen Flames that none of her sons would come up with the idea to break her record.

Now that she was a mother herself, she understood her mothers fear and desire to keep her grounded, much better. She did not want her seven-year-old children on the back of their dragons. Of course neither Vermax nor Arrax would ever willingly harm Aerion or Baelon. But inexperienced riders and dragons could not tell what was safe and what was not.

“Dārilaros skoros iksis pirta?” [Princess, what is wrong?] Her uncles voice and his warm breath on her ear send shivers down her back. Of course, she knew Daemon desired her hand. For all his Targaryen pride he was still a man. She couldn’t fault him for his desires. She was tempted more than once to accept the unspoken proposal. But her own pride held her back. She wanted to be asked. She wanted him to work for her acceptance. Furthermore, she wanted him to be different from the men of the realm. This past year he had proven himself more than once. His gifts (always lavish and extraordinary even in her childhood) never ceased. New jewels, new earrings, new necklaces, new dresses, new leathers. But what was duly important to her, was that he remembered small things. Simple things, he knew when she was upset, when she was agitated, annoyed or scared. He learned which words or actions he had to use to calm her down. Sometimes he stayed with her for hours discussing everything and nothing. He indulged her desires. Her thirst for knowledge and purpose. He gifted her dozens of old tomes full of Valyrian wisdom. Flew to Essos and back to gather them.

And most of all he did not ridicule her desires or goals. When she confessed to him that she wanted to learn swordsmanship he did not bat an eye and offered to be her instructor. (He vehemently refused to let anyone else teach her.) Ever since he trained her every day. Daemon accompanied her on dragonback or would stay back and watch the boys when she needed time alone with Syrax. He grumbled at being left behind, but he never truly complained.

However, it made her stomach flutter to know he wholly accepted her sons. He did not care for the brown in their hair. He saw Laenor in them and knew they were legitimate. Regardless of that, he had confessed a few months ago, he would have loved the boys even if they had been another man's bastards. Because they were her sons. Truthfully he had mumbled those words while he was half asleep and drunk. (They had endured too much one night and ended up in Daemon‘s rooms. Somehow she had been able to get him to bed, and he had pulled her into his chest. Murmuring into her hair.) She never said anything about that. Later that night she had fled his chambers, embarrassed and aroused, but also relieved. Daemon‘s possible hatred for her boys had been one of her nightmares. Since then, she was at ease and allowed him more liberties. Nevertheless, she was still waiting for the question.

”Ñuha dīnilūks, kepus”, she answered. Leaning against his hard chest, only covered by a red tunic. Her uncle had always favoured red and black clothing, but he also looked fantastic in blue and violet. She adored seeing him in finery. His favourite red tunic, red like Caraxes scales, let the heat of his skin seep onto hers. Targaryens were naturally warmer than Andals. Which was the reason Rhaenyra had always sought out either her uncle or her grandfather when she needed warmth. Up until her sixth nameday. Since then, she could only seek her uncle's warmth to comfort her. Her mother was often cold and so uncomfortable with one of her awaited brothers (or sisters in her case) that she never dared to disturb the resting queen to seek comfort. And her father‘s warmth was cold compared to that of kekepa Baelon or kepus Daemon. “Emagon lī bastards…. emagon pōnta istin arlī proposed ao dīnagon pōja relative iā pōntāla naejot secure aōha dēmalion?” [Have those bastards…..have they once again proposed you marry their relative or themselves to secure your throne?] Another thing she adored was her uncle's jealousy. It burned bright and hot. His words were nearly growled. But he was careful not to curse too much in her son's presence. Otherwise, she would have been cross with him.

“Kessa. Se ñuha kepa ēza va se behest hen zȳhon ābrazȳrys, granted nyke hāre tolī months naejot find iā valzȳrys syt nykēla iā kessa find iā eligible āeksio qilōni would tepagon nyke tolī riñar. Alicent inditan syt zirȳla lēkia. Kostā guess skorkydoso kepa udlitan. Ao gīmigon skorkydoso issa.” [Yes. And my father has, on the behest of his wife, granted me three more months to find a husband for myself, or he will find an eligible Lord who would give me more children. Alicent pushed for her brother. You can guess how father answered. You know how he is.] Rhaenyra could not keep the bitterness out of her tone. Despite being her fathers favourite child, Alicent had a certain hold over him. The green queen could influence him to a certain degree. “Ottos tresy? Iā azantys lēda daor reputation, daor tegun se daor gaomagon?” [Ottos son? A knight with no reputation, no land and no use?] Daemon laughed gleefully. He hated every Hightower, but especially Otto's direct offspring. ”Se se tolie?” [And the others?] He asked as if he didn’t know the answer already. After all, he had listened to Rhaenyra complain about the council endlessly the last few weeks.

“Keskydoso tolvie jēda. Pōja dubāzma, pōja lēkias, iā pōntāla.” [Same as every time. Their cousin, their brothers, themselves.] “Arrogant bastards.”, he mumbled, switching to commons to curse, so Aerion and Baelon would not repeat his words. The older Targrayen’s had learned fast that the twins repeated everything they heard in high Valyrian, but they did not repeat what was said in common (yet).

Rhaenyra very nearly scoffed. Daemon with his pride of a dragon prince was as prideful as any lord. Though, he likely also had the power to back such arrogance. “Yes uncle, the lords of the council are uneasy seeing me remain unmarried for over a year. They do not want a woman on the throne. But even less than that, they don’t want an unmarried woman as their future monarch. And father wants more grandchildren. More dragonriders for the Targrayen dynasty.” Now she actually scoffed and scrunched her nose up a bit. Angered by her father's careless words in the last council meeting. [Daughter, two heirs are not enough, your line is not secure. Our house needs more members. It is your duty to properly secure the succession.] At least he had said it in High Valyrian and not in common. She would have been even more humiliated than she had already felt. Without a doubt, Alicent would have mocked her.

Her anger at her father's oblivious behaviour and Alicent’s disrespect (the audacity her stepmother had to suggest her brother, a Hightower and a minor knight as her husband, unbelievable) rose again. But Daemon distracted her by biting her earlobe softly. “I do not like sharing, ñuha dārilaros [my princess]. Your attention belongs to me, not those cunts.” He hissed roughly. “Lykiri kepus. Nyke jorrāelagon ao dohaeragon naejot find iā valzȳrys. [Calm down, uncle. I need your help to find a suitable husband.]

“And what pray tell, dear niece, should your future husband be like?” Everyone would have thought Daemon simply asked out of curiosity. But Rhaenyra knew her uncle. Knew what he sounded like when he desperately suppressed an emotional reaction. When he gritted his teeth and lied through them to sound at least polite. She was sure if she looked at him now, she would see fire blazing in his eyes, promising a slow and painful death to whoever was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

“A knight that proved himself capable in battle. Has a reputation. That will be loyal only to me. A man who will not stray from our marriage bed. Who will worship me with every ounce of his being. A ruthless man who does not hesitate to spill blood for my cause or to my defence. Who will not cower before my enemies. Someone who strikes fear in the hearts of the greens. The mention of his name alone should be enough to make them shiver with fear. A man that understands me and does not hesitate to challenge me. I do not need a coward or a selfish lord who only thinks of himself and wants me to be his broodmare to glorify his name. I want a father for my children. All my children. Above all I need someone who will see me and not just the crown princess, not the Targaryen princess, not the dragon rider, the real me.”

Rhaneyra wanted to be seen. As the woman behind the mask of the crown princess. The mother who wanted safety for her children. The girl who was desperate for acceptance and love. Eager to please, but afraid to fail and disappoint. The girl who longed for her father's attention and approval, but got nothing from him. Instead, fearing for her position and life. The woman who hated that she one day would have to spill Targaryen blood, her half-sibling's blood, because greedy leeches wanted her throne. The woman who wanted an equal. not someone who thought himself superior or inferior to her. Someone who was afraid to open up, but in desperate need of a confidant. The dragon who whisked for a kindred soul to unite with hers. She could only hope Daemon understood her unspoken words. She only desired one man as her husband.

Chapter Text

Many of his enemies (mainly the Hightowers and their precious Maesters) believed him to be a heathen. Simply because he refused to obey their demands to follow their gods. His ancestors might have bent to the faith of the seven, but they did not convert to their religion. Not even his grandfather converted completely. His uncle Vaegon, his aunt Maegelle and his great aunt Rhaella were a different story. He believed Vaegon swore his oath to the seven simply as a rebellion against his father. Jaehaerys had definitely been pissed when a potential heir threw his title and his family relation into his face and denied the king the pleasure of choosing his fate. His uncle was said to be even more problematic than him. A sarcastic old man who loved making others miserable.

Daemon was sure he would either but heads with his uncle or would get along splendidly with him. Not that he had any desire to find out. Regarding his aunt Maegelle. Alysanne had promised her to the faith. His poor aunt likely never had the chance to rebel or express her displeasure. He wasn’t sure if she was even still alive. As far as he was aware, she had been in charge of the people who were afflicted with greyscales. It was likely she caught the disease and died as well. And Rhaella was even older than his uncle and aunt. The last daughter of Queen Rhaena was likely dead as well. Not that the citadel would have informed the rest of House Targaryen of her death. Lest they offend the seven with their burial traditions.

Every Targaryen was burned, their ashes collected and stored in a tomb in Dragonstone. Where their ancestors rested. Where one day his ashes would rest. Once upon a time, the Targrayen’s had been a family with many members. Until the doom. Then with each generation, less Targaryens were born. From Aegon the Conqueror came only two children, nothing more. Maegor had no living children. From Aenys' children, only Alysanne and Jaehaerys survived. Rhaena’s line died out. Her only child left, too old to become pregnant now. True enough, his grandparent had many children. But two died in the cradle.

His uncle died from an arrow, his father from a burst belly. His mother and aunt Daella from the consequences of childbirth. His youngest aunt drowned herself in her sorrow. She was left by the man that had got her with child. (A stillborn child, Alysanne had ripped out of her daughter's arms, not allowing Gael moments to grief.) Overall, Daemon truly pitied Gael most of all. Smothered by Alysanne protectiveness, she was never allowed to grow. Viserra died in an unfortunate accident, though he was sure she would have left the same as Saera had his grandparents truly gone through with their plan to marry her to a lord who was older than King Jaehaerys. Saera was still alive, living her best life somewhere in Volantis with her lovers and children. Unconcerned about the rest of her family.

His cousin Rhaenys had married Corlys. The ambitious Sea Snake, nearly as old as her father Aemon. Who sought to replace the Targaryen name with his own. Aemma his gentle cousin found her death because of his brother and his relentless attempts for a son. Despite having Rhaenyra. Who should have been enough for Viserys. He had been slighted to be replaced as heir by his teenage niece. Without question, he adored Rhaenyra more than anything or anyone else. She was the only person to be ever truly safe from him. Before he raised his sword against her, he would sooner fall upon Dark Sister and kill himself.

Daemon was sure if Viserys truly angered him enough he would kill his brother. If circumstances demanded it. He would forever be haunted by his actions afterwards, but if Viserys proved a danger to Rhaenyra he would kill him. The same was true for Rhaenys. He loved his cousin, but it had been ages since he considered her family of any sort. He knew she never forgave him for choosing Viserys over her in the Great Council. Rhaenys would never understand that he hadn’t done it for Viserys. Not only for Viserys at least. Rhaenys didn’t know that Aemma had gone to him and begged him to stand by Viserys side. To protect him and most of all protect her little girl from Corlys wrath. If Rhaenys had won the Great council, there was no doubt that once the King died and Rhaenys was crowned, Corlys would have disposed of viserys and Aemma. Likely taken Rhaenyra hostage to keep Daemon at bay. Then forced her to marry some lord or Laenor.

Laenor was his cousin's son, but he was no Targrayen. Not truly. He rode Seasmoke, but that was where his dragon blood ended. Only just enough to claim and ride a dragon. Otherwise, the boy had been off the sea. Same as his sister and father. Neither Velaryon child looked much like Rhaenys. They resembled Corlys more. Nevertheless, he would not utter bad words about Laenor. For one his cousin was dead. And second Rhaenyra would have been very cross with him. Daemon despised it when she was mad at him. He liked her attention. Loved her company and was reluctant to let anyone else (with the exception of the twins) have her attention for long. He was a selfish bastard, he knew that and would never deny it. But Rhaenyra was a princess, a Targaryen, a goddess among men. The lords barely deserved to even gaze upon his niece. If Daemon had his way none of them would ever come near her.

Neither would the Green be ever allowed to attack his niece like they had before. Or his nephews. (Hopefully soon sons.) Aerion and Baelon were Rhaenyra’s purpose. Should they die his niece would die with them. Something he could not allow. He cared not for the opinion of others. He had learned by now that Viserys and even Rhaenys opinion of him would always be low. They were his family and he loved them. But they couldn’t accept him. Not like Rhaenyra could. He thanked the Fourteen, that she gave him another chance. A chance he would prove himself worthy of. The past year he had done his best to make up for his past mistakes.

However, Rhaenyra was not someone who forgave easily. She might forgive, but she never forgot a slight. His beloved niece could hold a grudge as long as any Targaryen. (Most did so for their entire life’s.) Rhaenyra had been alone a lot in her life. True as a princess she had got anything she wanted. Everything but the love and company of her family. Her mother, the gentle Aemma, was occupied with being pregnant. His foolish brother Viserys was occupied with Otto Hightowers poison in his ears. His father died when she was five before he had been a constant. Not only to Rhaenyra but also to Daemon. Baelon Targaryen had seemed unstoppable. A rock in the water he could always come back to. But his father had been taken from them too soon. His passing plunged their house into another succession crisis. If only uncle Aemon or his father had become King. Maybe then his niece would have never been so hurt by him. Perhaps he would have been allowed to marry Rhaenyra sooner.

Maybe she would never have been forced to marry Laenor. He loved Aerion and Baelon, truly he did. His nephews were amazing, but he wished they were his and Rhaenyra’s children. It was unfair of him to wish for something like that when his actions forced her into the marriage to begin with. His careless behaviour had nearly destroyed Rhaenyra’s reputation and given Viserys leverage to force his decision upon his heir. The past was something he wished to change, but he had to set his sight onto the future.

For months now the small council and his brother pressured Rhaenyra to find a new husband. They were already uncomfortable with the prospect of a ruling queen. But a ruling queen without a husband, a scandalous thought. His niece had informed him that her father had given her three more moons to find a husband for herself, or he would choose her second consort himself. Which meant the Hightower whore would decide for him. Daemon wasn’t sure how the girl manipulated his brother so well. But she was after all Otto Hightower's daughter. He scoffed in anger at the prospect of the Green Queen forcing Rhaenyra to marry someone wholly under seeing of her.

When Daemon heard Rhaenyra’s passionate speech of what she desired in her next husband, his heart sang with delight and his blood ran a little hotter. A knight that proved himself capable in battle. He had proven himself. He was a knight with reputation. Who would be loyal only to her. He swore himself to never stray from her marriage bed. To be someone who would worship Rhaenyra like she deserved to be worshipped. He never hesitated to spill blood. He certainly wouldn’t hesitate when it came to her cause or her defence. Daemon Targrayen never cowered in front of enemies. His enemies cowered before him. And so would Rhaenyra’s. The mention of his name alone was enough to make them shiver with fear.

As a Targrayen himself he understood her better than anyone else in the realm. He wouldn’t hesitate to challenge her if necessary, just like she challenged him. He did not need Rhaenyra to elevate his status. Furthermore, he was a prince and would be content to forever remain one if she wanted it so. He would be known as Prince consort, as long as she was his wife. Not only that, but he desperately wanted her to be the mother of his children and to be able to call Aerion and Baelon his sons. His nephews were Laenor’s but in spirit they were his. They would grow up under his guidance. They were Targaryens and not Velaryons. She was the best of house Targaryen and the woman he loved. He never thought himself actually capable of loving someone so deeply. But since Rhaenyra had been first placed into his arms he had never loved anyone more than her. She was his delight, the light to his darkness. The reason to his chaos. Above all she was a woman with many aspects.

Rhaenyra wanted to be seen. As the woman behind the mask of the crown princess. The mother who wanted safety for her children. The girl who was desperate for acceptance and love. (Which she lacked from her parents and absent uncle.) Eager to please, but afraid to fail and disappoint. (His heart broke a little knowing his mistakes and his absence hurt her enough to doubt herself.) The girl who longed for her father's attention and approval, but got nothing from him. (Or from Daemon, who was too busy antagonizing Viserys, which resulted in his banishment more often than not.) Instead, fearing for her position and life. A woman who hated that she one day would have to spill Targaryen blood, her half-sibling's blood, because greedy leeches wanted her throne. (Personally he had nothing against spilling the half-breeds blood. He did not accept them as his family, though he could not deny they were his brother's blood.) A Targaryen woman who wanted an equal. (Daemon was determined to prove himself worthy as her equal.) Not someone who thought himself superior or inferior to her. His niece was someone who was afraid to open up, but in desperate need of a confidant. A dragoness who wished for a kindred soul to unite with hers.

Her words had ignited heat inside his blood. Making it boil with anticipation but also fear. He knew she was waiting for him to ask her. And he had to admit that until now he was too much of a coward to ask her. Ashamed of the consequences his actions had caused. Never before had anyone made him pay for his mistakes. But his niece was the exception. He did not wish to disappoint her and he feared her rejection. He knew she was preparing for the worst and had assured him multiple times she wanted him at her side. As an ally. But never had she said as her husband.

Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the Blood, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, wielded of Dark Sister, Rider of Caraxes was scared his niece would reject him. And she had every right to do so. Which was why he was down here right now. After she had informed him of her desires she had asked him to be left alone with her sons. With a quick kiss to her forehead he left the chambers. Unwilling to impress his company on her when she clearly needed time for herself.

He was aware that there was a secure feeling only the twins were able to give her. The love of a parent was different from the love of other family members. The love of a husband was something else than the love of a child. A child more often than not loves its mother unconditionally from the beginning. While a husband's or family members' love depended upon certain circumstances. That was the norm for noble families and marriages. His parents' marriage was the exception. His father had loved his mother more than anything else. And his child self had loved his parents more than anything else. Though he had also hated his father when he became older, he never hated his mother. He resented her for a while. Because she had left them, but he never hated her.

Rhaenyra had been disappointed by other Targaryens (and Velaryons) time and time again. Her friend had betrayed her as well. The only people and the only family members who never betrayed her and would never seek to use her for their own gain would be her sons. He was sure once Aerion and Baelon were old enough to fight and understand the world they lived in they would be their mothers fiercest defenders. Even fiercer than him.

Nonetheless, he wanted to be Rhaenyra’s protector, like he had been in her childhood. Despite being called a heathen, he was a devoted follower of the gods. Just not the gods many of the seven kingdoms followed. No, he was a follower of the Fourteen Flames. Which was why he was down here. Deep inside the dragon mount. In the forgotten lair of Vhagar. Queen Visenya’s dragon. His father's dragon. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever see the old dragon again. Laena’s whereabouts were still unknown to him, but he didn’t care much for his cousin's daughter. A few weeks after the twin's first nameday, he had sought annulment from the citadel. It was granted, of course. Despite his brothers and also Hightower's protest, the citadel agreed. Likely because they feared Daemon's response, and also because he had Rhaenyra’s backing. He didn’t know how, but somehow she had some influence with the High Septon. He would definitely ask her, but he had other things to worry about. It also helped that House Velaryon did not contest the annulment.

He knew Rhaenys wanted to protest, but she also wouldn't risk Rhaenyra banning her from her grandsons' life. Neither would Corlys risk Rhaenyra’s wrath more than he had already earned it. His little dragon was still angry because the Sea Snake was foolish enough to imply he desired an earlier fostering for his second grandson. As if he had anything to decide that remotely concerned Baelon’s life.

While she had been married to Laenor House Velaryon had offered her protection and definite support. Their armada was guaranteed. Now it wasn’t so secure anymore. Though as long as Corlys lived and Baelon remained his heir, the Velaryons support was relatively certain. Otherwise, he only knew that the Arryns were his niece’s definite supporters. Maybe the Starks, for as long as Viserys kept her as heir and did not name one of his half-breeds over her. The other great houses had not yet decided or did not wish to make their allegiance official yet. So it was only plausible that she had a list with lords of the realm or foreign lords or princes who would secure her powerful allies.

But he wanted to offer her a different kind of protection. A protection no other house but her own could give her. Dragons. Namely, his own and Syrax as well. He had studied their families legacy and the books their ancestors left bending for many years. He had collected hundreds of texts from Essos, to Volantis to Lys and further beyond. Likewise, he studied them for anything remotely useful. Especially for traces of blood magic. Through those texts he had learned of a hidden chamber. Build by Aenar for his daughter Daeny’s, but mainly used by Visenya. The Faith was not wrong to call her a witch. Not that that was an insult in his family, many Targaryens of old had been said to be witches or otherwise called blood mages. Because of their use of blood magic.

The Andals did not understand that the Targaryen could only claim dragons because of the magic in their blood. If his family did not have magic in their blood, they would certainly not be able to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Their ancestors practiced blood magic to not lose the ability to connect with their dragons. Much of their knowledge was lost in the doom. After all, Daenys' and her father left hastily and were not welcome back into Old Valyria. Because the other families saw them as cowards. Bad luck for them that the Fourteen Flames saw fit to eradicate every other dragon rider line but the Targaryens. Even if it had happened years after Aenar, his daughter and his son left the Valyrian empire.

However, they took a bit of knowledge with them and wrote down what they remembered. And hid those book and scrolls in the Dragonmont. No knowledge would be lost there. Protected by the companions of their house. Deep inside an unused cave, until Vhagar made it her own when she and Visenya still lived here. Now the old bat was too large to get inside. Not that Silverwing or Vermithor would let her inside far enough to reach her old nest. The two dragons still resented the old dragon. Their riders' resentment had invested them. Everyone in the seven kingdoms knew how much Alysanne and Jaehaerys disliked the old Queen. As such, their dragons never liked each other. Not even when his father Baelon had been Vhagar’s rider.

So he had searched for years. Every day he spent on Dragonstone he used every bit of time he could spare to search for the hidden room. His mother had once mentioned it in passing. In a bedtime story and in her diaries. Diaries the King and Queen would have destroyed had they known about it. But his father had not informed them about Alyssas diaries. Instead, Baelon had given them to him. When he finally found the room he was overjoyed but realized that he couldn’t tell anyone about it. His parents were dead. His brother wouldn’t understand, and his grandparent would have destroyed it. Because they would have seen it as something Visenya corrupted. Simply because she likely used it as well. After all, their history suggested that she had been infertile before she used a ritual to conceive Maegor. Not that he cared about how a distant relative was conceived.

What he cared about was the possibilities the blood magic could offer. Blood magic could be used for various purposes. To curse someone. He would love to curse Otto or any of the greens, but he would have to get their blood or hair first to do so. And he wasn’t down here today for that. He came here to find the solution to a problem. His Robles with Rhaenyra. He was desperate to protect her. But he couldn't be near her all day. And he did not have the connection Syrax had with Rhaenyra. But Syrax was young, her scales vulnerable, and her fire was not as hot and destructive as that of other dragons. If he wanted to protect Rhaenyra better, he had to give her the means to also protect herself.

Daemon was not a man who thought princesses or women in general only had to sit around gossip and look pretty. He knew women were as much as good fighters as men. Many of his line, yes also the women, knew how to handle a sword. His mother did, Alysanne did, but she never used her knowledge. And she forbade her daughters from learning it. Wanting to integrate more into the customs of the seven kingdoms. Visenya was famously better with the sword than her brother, King Aegon. And even Rhaenys, both his cousin and his ancestor, were passable with a sword. Which was why he wanted Rhaenyra to learn the art of the sword. Rather, she had asked him to teach her. Now that they were not living under Viserys influence and power anymore he could teach her here on Dragonstone without anyone complaining or stopping them.

She likely never would be as good as him, few would, for that she had started too late, but she would be able to defend herself. Not that he would ever let a situation occur where she had to do so. But it would calm his heart and sooth his worries, knowing he thought her to be prepared and be able to stand up to people who wanted to harm her with weapons. Though, he couldn’t do much against people who hurt her with words. Only boost her confidence in herself. Knowing what she was capable of and who she had at her back would help her come back to her old, confident self. He wouldn’t rest until his fiery niece finally stopped dimming her own fire, to satisfy her enemies. For too long, he had left her alone. Had abandoned her in that court of vipers.

Not anymore. He swore to protect her and her sons. And with blood magic he could shield them better. After all, their dragons were their fiercest protectors. Which meant he had to protect their dragons from harm. The greens would. Surely, try to build scorpions. The only known weapon to ever kill a dragon besides a dragon killing another one. Though, Balerion and the Cannibal had been the only dragons to ever kill their own kind. Balerion because Maegor hated his nephew so much and the Black dread was so much larger than Quicksilver. Cannibal killed hatchlings and feasted on eggs to survive. He likely didn’t know that he could survive on anything else anymore.

Dragons weren’t humans. Of course, they had their own thoughts and emotions, they were no ordinary mindless beasts after all. But they were still predators, mostly led by instinct. Scorpions would be able to kill Syrax, even Meleys. And they would definitely be able to kill Vermax and Arrax. Caraxes had experience with them, but a lucky shot would also kill his beloved Blood Wyrm. Vermithor and Silverwing had more resistance, but their scales weren’t as hard as the scales of the dragons in the Freehold. If he found a way to strengthen, to harden their dragons scales and to make them grow faster and more resilient, they would have an advantage over the greens. Maybe he could show Rhaenyra his commitment and his seriousness that way. Perhaps that gesture would be able to persuade her to say yes if he asked her to marry him and unite their souls.

Chapter Text

Daemon searched the room for hours. It would have been too easy if he had found what he needed within a few minutes. Not even his ancestors wanted his life to be easy. He searched the room multiple times, every inch, but he only found pieces of what he needed. Instead, he found old wedding robes, who surprisingly were in remarkable good condition. He would remember where to find them, if his hopes were fulfilled he would need them soon. He was ready to give up for the day and to search again tomorrow when the tapestry on one of the walls got his attention.

Before he had ignored it and thought it was just pretty decoration. But looking closer at it, he wanted to slam his head against a wall. The tapestry was displaying exactly the ritual he searched for. Or at least the results of said ritual. It was divided in two. One side it showed a dragon and a rider, silver/golden haired as every Valyrian. The dragon seemed to be about as big as Syrax was now. If it had been real and not stitched onto the tapestry. The riders clothes were different from anything he had ever seen. Elegant purple clothing with golden stitching. Behind the bonded dragon and rider, at least he assumed they were bonded, was a small mountain dwarfing the young dragon. But that was not the side that was interesting to him.

The second part of the tapestry displayed the same dragon and rider, but the dragon had tripled in size. And its fire melted the small mountain that had been behind it. Exactly what he wanted. If he managed to find the utensils he would need to perform the ritual he could not only make Syrax more durable, larger and more dangerous but could also protect Caraxes more. While his beloved Blood Wyrm was a fierce fighter he was not as old as Vermithor or Dreamfyre. Their fire was still hotter and his dragon would be able to get killed by a well aimed scorpion. Something he dreaded. Back in the Stepstones it had been his luck that the enemy had barely known how to fight with the ones Dorne provided. And that Caraxes was fast and nimble enough to dodge. If the tapestry showed the truth, the result would mean the advantage for Rhaenyra’s faction would grow radically. Even if his brother’s children with the Hightower woman claimed dragons they would hardly be a match for Caraxes and Syrax.

Vermithor was old and lazy. Silverwing had grown temperamental and was so focused on the eggs she rarely left the caves. Seasmoke was young but already injured and would take months to heal. And he would mourn his rider for years. Young dragons always did. Especially if the rider was its first. Dreamfyre was old, her fire powerful, but she was lazy and by no means a battle dragon. She hadn’t left the Dragonpit in decades. Vhagar was still claimed by Laena. Whoever his former wife was now, he didn’t care. Hs fathers dragon was old and slow. She would lose against Caraxes and even Syrax. Cannibal could be a problem, though he was rarely tempted to eat grown dragons. More fond of trying to snatch hatchlings or eggs. Which was why he was glad Silverwing obsessed over the eggs safety. And that Tessarion, Sunfyre, Vermax and Arrax were under the older dragons' protection. He also noted how Vermax and Arrax seemed a bit larger than Tessarion and Sunfyre. His oldest nephews' hatchlings and Sunfyre were more vocal and more adventurous. Daemon was a bit worried about Tessarion and Arrax but the keepers assured him every dragon had its individual growth. And every dragon was fire in their own way. Even if they were not often vocal. Time would tell.

Looking more closely he spotted what he needed. A Valyrian steel dagger. Blood from both the rider and the dragon. A scale of the dragon, hair of the rider. A burning fire ignited by the dragon and a sunset or a sunrise. Neither was hard to produce for Targrayens. So he only required his dragon's consent and he could do it. The time was simply the hardest part. And to persuade Rhaenyra to do it as well. He left the hidden room, not before he took the Valyrian dagger that was inside it, very convenient for him.

Finding his niece wasn’t hard. She was still with her twins. Though now she was humming a Valyrian lullaby. It was late already and the sun would soon set. So he would have to persuade her to do the ritual today if he didn’t want to wait longer. And Rhaenyra would never rise before sunrise because even if she had matured she was still a spoiled woman who liked her beauty sleep as she called it. His niece literally had kicked him out of her rooms one morning when he had the audacity to wake her earlier than usual.

“Byka zaldrīzes. (Little dragon.)”, he called and waited until she turned to him. Before she did, she put the blanket over her sons and kissed them. The twins always did what they wanted, and they also liked arranging their own sleeping schedule. The whole castle breathed with relief when the twins decided to sleep at the same time. Because if one twin was awake, the other would soon follow. They rarely slept when the other did not.

“Skoros iksos ziry kepus? Ao vestragon hembistan bē mirros. (What is it uncle? You seem exited about something.)” Curiously she walked towards him and looked him over. The ash from the Dragonmont and the dragon's own smell clung to him, but he didn’t care. “Nyke found mirros bona could dohaeragon īlva. (I found something that could help us.)” “īlva?(Us?)”, she asked carefully. Daemon saw the hesitation in her eyes. The worry she misunderstood him. “Rhaenyra. Kessa īlva. Ao se issa. Nyke gīmigon nyke emagon daor eptan se bona ziry iksos pirta hen issa naejot assume mirros. Yn nyke jāhor daor rual ao naejot dīnagon another vala bona iksos daor issa. Nyke vēttan bona mistake istin se nyke regretted ziry mirre pār. Rȳ least laenor istan īlva kin, yn se tolie lords issi daor. Nyke jāhor daor ivestragī mirri kasta ally dīnagon se diminish ao. Ao issi issa niece, issa ānogar se dare nyke vestragon se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson. Nyke emagon issare nykeā coward naejot daor epagon gō se nyke despise aōha kepa syt giving ao nykeā ultimatum. Lo ziry ēdan daor nyke would emagon taken issa jēda. Proven nykēla tolī naejot ao. Courted ao properly instead hen asking raqagon bisa. Ao gūrogon sȳrkta. Yn paktot gīmigon nyke jaelagon ao naejot pāsagon issa se māzigon rūsīr issa. (Yes us. You and me. I know I have not asked and that it is wrong of me to assume anything. But I will not allow you to marry another man that is not me. I made that mistake once, and I regretted it ever since. At least Laenor was our kin, but the other lords are not. I will not let some green ally marry and diminish you. You are my niece, my blood, and dare I say the love of my life. I have been a coward to not ask before, and I despise your father for giving you an ultimatum. If he had not I would have taken my time. Prove myself more to you. Courted you properly instead of asking like this. You deserve better. But right now I want you to trust me and come with me.)”

Too stunned to speak, Rhaenyra followed her uncle. Daemon Targaryen was not a man that was sentimental. Or overly emotional. Of course she knew he loved her. She was family. For daemon it was simple. You were either family, thus he loved and protected you. Or you weren’t. Which was equal to being his enemy. Something no one wanted to be. Because being Daemon Targaryen’s enemy meant that it was likely they would be burnt to death.

Following him to the outskirts of the castle she looked at her uncle. His hair was a bit longer and a bit dishevelled as if the wind had blown through it multiple times. But he hadn’t gone flying though. She would have heard Caraxes. They reached the platform their ancestors had built to allow their dragons to land near the castle. “Brōzagon syrax. (Call Syrax.)”, he asked her. Confused but curious nonetheless she did. Reaching her beloved golden dragon through the bond. Syrax was awake and alert. Tuned to her modes as Rhaenyra was to hers. When Rhaenyra called her Syrax immediately rose and a few minutes later she heard her melodic roar and the familiar flap of wings.

Caraxes followed after Syrax. Both landing on the platform, which had, if history was to be believed, allowed Balerion the Dread to land on it. His niece's dragon had always been peculiar. Her bond with Rhaenyra was unique. Strong that they understood each other without words. Whenever his niece had been sad Syrax had come mere moments later to cheer her up. Until she was regularly chained up in the Dragonpit after his niece's first flight on her when she had been mere seven namedays old. He had been banished once again and Rhaenyra did not want to accept it. So she somehow snuck to the Dragonpit, let Syrax snap the chains and flew after him. His heart had nearly given out when he and Caraxes recognized Syrax roars. It had taken nearly half an hour to get Rhaenyra to land Syrax.

Afterwards he had hugged her tightly afraid she was hurt. He refused to let her out of his sight for weeks. His banishment of course was lifted. Daemon as the only dragon rider had to supervise his niece after all. Viserys dragon was long dead, Aemma to busy being pregnant to ever claim one and Rhaenys was away on Driftmark.

“Skoro syt emagon ao maghatan nyke kesīr kepus? se vēzos iksis setting se īlon should jiōragon arlī naejot se sombāzmion. Emi jēda naejot jikagon flying hemtubis. Flying rȳ bantis iksis daor iā sȳz idea. (Why have you brought me here uncle? The sun is setting, and we should get back to the castle. We have time to go flying tomorrow. Flying at night is not a good idea.)” Confusion evident in her voice she looked at her uncle. “Pāsagon nyke niece. It’s important naejot gaomagon ziry sir. ” (Trust me niece. It’s important to do it now.)” “To gaomagon skoros? explain aōla kepus! (To do what? Explain yourself kepus!)”, she demanded, ever the spilled princess who was used to getting what she wanted from him.

“Ao gīmigon īlen va moriot interested isse īlva ancestors. Pōja magic iksin tolī kraj than īlvon. Pōja zaldrīzoti mazverdatan larger se faster than īlvon. Īlis less easily ōdrikagon. (” You know I was always interested in our ancestors. Their magic was more powerful than ours. Their dragons grew larger and faster than ours. They were less easily hurt.”) “Kepus, lo jaelā naejot lecture nyke nūmāzma zaldrīzes lore, bona kostagon umbagon ēva hemtubis. Se īlva ancestors morghūltan nonetheless. Rhaenys se Merakses sia ossēntan despite Merakses size. (”Uncle, if you want to lecture me about dragon lore, that can wait until tomorrow. And our ancestors died nonetheless. Rhaenys and Meraxes were killed despite Meraxes size.)”, she protested, but her curiosity was caught. “Drēje, yn nyke ȳdragon nūmāzma īlva ancestor gō se vējes. Scorpions gōntan daor ōdrikagon balerion, yn zȳhon uēpa age se zȳhon ōdria hen uēpa Valyria ossēntan zirȳla. Bona kessa daor massigon naejot īlva zaldrīzoti. Daor lēda se ritual eman ūndegīon. ” (True, but I speak about our ancestor before the doom. Scorpions could not hurt Balerion, but his old age and his wounds from Old valyria killed him. That will not happen to our dragons. Not with the ritual I have seen.)” “You jaelagon naejot test ziry. (You want to test it.)” She guessed. Daemon nodded.

“Iksan unsure lo nyke pāsagon īlva ancestor magic uncle, yn iksan willing naejot pāsagon ao. Yn lo mirros is pirta se syrax iksis harmed kesrio syt hen ziry. Kesan dōrī shijetra ao Se ao kostagon ivestragon geros ilas naejot aōha ābrar. Iksin nyke understood?” (I am unsure if I trust our ancestor magic uncle, but I am willing to trust you. But if anything goes wrong and Syrax is harmed because of it. I will never forgive you, and you can say goodbye to your life. Am I understood?”) “Kessa dārilaros. (Yes princess.)” Rhaenyra knew she should not be tempted by such words. Daemon had not explained anything yet and old Valyria was long gone because of blood magic. Which was what her uncle likely planned to use. But nevertheless the prospect of ensuring Syrax was bigger, stronger and better protected was tempting enough. Though of course imagining Alicent's and Otto’s face when they saw Syrax growing larger than they ever thought possible and thus having an advantage over them was a bonus. And of course she knew her uncle was trying to use the opportunity to impress her and persuade her. She was flattered by his effort and intrigued by his promises.

It was not in her plans to marry anyone else but Daemon. She simply planned to keep him guessing a little longer and make him work a bit harder to earn his right to her hand. But of course her father had to destroy her plans. So she had motivated Daemon by talking about potential suitors. She was aware it would rile him up enough to search for a solution. A suction that, if the ritual he wanted to do worked, would help strengthen her claim.

“Skoros gaomagon īlon jorrāelagon naejot gaomagon?” (What do we need to do?)”, she asked. “Emagon syrax ignite se perzys. (Have Syrax ignite the fire.”), he instructed. The Conquerors had installed fireplaces around the platform to make it possible for dragons to land even at night. Once again she thanked her ancestors for one of their decisions. Rhaenyra followed his instruction and asked Syrax to light the fires. He had Caraxes do the same. Then he came over and held out his hand. Hesitating a second she laid hers on top of his and waited. Carefully he turned it and cut her palm with a dagger she had not seen him draw. Nervously she watched him. But he did not cut deep instead he just nicked her until her skin broke and blood pooled out of her palm. Then he held the bleeding cut above the flames and let her blood drop into the fire. When he was satisfied he softly and carefully cut a lock of her hair, which fell into the fire as well. All while humming a familiar Valyrian song.

He did the same with his palm and hair. “Emā naejot draw ānogar hen syrax se ēza naejot tepagon ao iā scale willingly naejot complete se ritual. (You have to draw blood from Syrax, and she has to give you a scale willingly to complete the ritual.)” He explained. Syrax had come closer when she sniffed her rider's blood in the wind. Her golden lady did not like the scent of her blood. She was agitated and growled when Daemon gave her the dagger. Rhaenyra just knew Syrax was not happy that Daemon had drawn blood from her. With her uninsured hand she caressed her dragon's scales and soothed her. “Ziry’s sȳz syrax. Nyke’m alright. Sepār mirrī ānogar.(It’s fine Syrax. I’m alright. Just a little blood.)” Caraxes seemed calmer than Syrax. Likely because he was used to smelling Daemon's blood. He had been her uncles' companion into more than one battle after all.

“Jāhor ao rual issa naejot draw aōha ānogar syrax. Se irudy issa mēre hen aōha scales. Nyke jāhor mērī gaomagon sīr lo ao mazōregon? (Will you allow me to draw your blood Syrax. And gift me one of your scales. I will only do so if you accept?)” leaning her forehead against Syrax snout she waited paitently for the golden dragon to respond. The gentle nudge that followed was answer enough. “Kirimvose, issa jorrāelagon. (Thank you, my love.) With trembling hands she reached for Syrax left wing. The scales on the wings were the softest and easiest to cut. Biting her own lip until she drew blood she carefully cut her beloved dragon. Syrax growl stopped her. Her dragon nudged her aside and she opened her jaw. Barring her teeth. Faster than she had ever seen her dragon move. Syrax ripped a few of her scales out of her wing and the blood dropped onto the ground. It pained Rhaenyra to see it. “Ziry jāhor sagon toliot aderī, byka zaldrīzes. Dīnagon se scales ezīmagon se perzys se ivestragī syrax gaomagon se rest. (It will be over soon, little dragon. Place the scales into the fire and let Syrax do the rest.)”

Her uncle's voice steadied her, and she collected the scales from the ground and let them fall into the fire. Unlike her uncle who places Caraxes scales directly into the flames. His skin did not burn. Syrax stepped forward and lifted her injured wing. Her blood flowing down and falling into the flames. Instantly they turned golden. The same happened with Caraxes, only the fire in front of him turned a more vibrant red.

Syrax was worried when she felt Rhaenyra tug at their bond. It was already getting darker and normally her rider never called her when it got darker outside. Never had when she was still chained neither did she call her in the time they had been on the dragon island. However, Caraxes had also been called by his rider, so it must be something important. Taking flight she hurried towards her rider. Their bond guided her to her rider. Caraxes landed first signalling her how to land on the strange platform. Caraxes had told her that Vermithor and Silverwing as well as Vhagar and Balerion had once landed here.

Syrax did not remember the black dragon. He had been dead when she hatched beside Rhaenyra. But the old Vhagar had often spoken of him. So had Silverwing and Vermithor. And Dreamfyre. Dreamfyre loved to complain about Caraxes. The only dragon she complained more about had been Balerion. Despite him not being there anymore. The pale dragon had ranted about him being a Kinslaying beast. A traitor and a coward. Caraxes had told her that Balerion had killed one of their kin. Quicksilver, a sibling to Dreamfyre. Which was why she was still so bitter.

Curious what her rider and Caraxes Daemon wanted she stepped closer. Her rider asked if she could light the fire so she did. Rhaenyra was likely cold. Her rider did not fare well without heat, so Syrax gladly provided it for her. When she scented Rhaenyra blood in the air she knew something was not right. Her rider should not bleed. Not like this. Syrax raised her head and flared her wings, angered with Daemon drawing unnecessary blood from Rhaenyra. Her beloved, gentle rider had bled enough. But before she could snap at the older Targaryen Caraxes snout touched her side. In her anger she had ignored the humming of her blood. What she felt was old, something forgotten. Something she had never experienced before. But it felt good. Welcome and oddly comforting.

Rhaenyra was uncomfortable so Syrax nudged her lightly. Indicating to her she was there and would protect her. Nothing would harm her soul as long as Syrax was there to prevent it. Rhaenrya needed her blood and her scales to complete the ritual but was afraid and uncomfortable at the thought of taking such from Syrax. Despite her permission. Her gentle rider disliked hurting her. So she did it herself. Tearing into her wing scales and letting blood flow into the flames. The sensation was worth it. The fire in her veins ignited once again. As it had once when she had hatched. It had slumbered since then. Always present but never awake.

The golden flames reflected her own fire. Which she directed onto the ground where her blood had seeped to. Dragons never let their blood stay. They burned the evidence of any ritual or any of their kills. Always had. That was the first thing Caraxes had taught her. Dragons burned.

Once she ceased her flames she began to roar because she felt her bones shift and the bond tighten. Rhaenyra was afraid. Syrax did not like that. Next to her Caraxes roared as well. Coiling around Daemon he stretched and roared his pain out for the whole island to hear. Syrax followed his example. Nudging Rhaenyra into her side and curling protectively around her, she stopped resting the stretch and let it happen.

Exhausted Daemon let himself sink to his knees. He had never thought that he would feel such a sensation. But the pain that seemed to shot through his veins was one he never experienced before. He should have expected a blood magic ritual to be painful. But that pain was a surprise. Sharing Caraxes pain while he was growing was unlike anything he experienced before. Rhaenyra seemed to feel the same way. His niece had sunk to her knees as well, her hands on syrax scales her forehead on her flank. As soon as the last sun beams had vanished the magic had begun to take effect. He could practically feel how Caraxes bones changed, how his dragon adjusted, and their connection was shaped anew.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t aware that he had lost consciousness, but anyway, he was greeted with a blue sky. Panic shot through him, until he heard the deep breath and the familiar sounds of his dragon. Slowly he was getting up. Sleeping on stone, in leather with Dark Sister strapped to him was certainly uncomfortable. Caraxes shifted, and he came face to face with his companion. And he had to blink in disbelief. Once Caraxes snout and face were already large, but now he rivalled Vermithor size. His dragon stretche and unfolded his wings, that had also tripled in length. Over all Caraxes looked extremely different from before. His general shape was the same, but he was massive. Daemon knew he was one of the larger and more battle hardened dragons, but he was sure, now he could easily overpower Vermithor in size. Despite his snake like shaped body he was magnificent to look at. His scales were a deep brilliant red. Darker and more like blood than before. His belly scales were nearly black as were the membranes of his wings.

Daemon saw no saddle on him, instead he saw it lying next to his dragon. It had ripped and slid of Caraxes. Alas, the dragon keepers would have to make new measurements and build new saddles for Caraxes. And for Syrax as well. Only now did his attention turn from Caraxes to Syrax. His dragon roared softly and nudged Syrax.

Rhaenyra was cooing at her dragon and her radiant smile was back. He had missed seeing his niece so happy. Syrax had also tripled in size. She was still smaller than Caraxes, but was now as large if not larger than Meleys. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was close to reaching the size of Dreamfyre and Silverwing. While Silverwing was larger in length, Dreamfyre was bigger and more intimidating. Built more massive than Meleys. Syrax was between now a mix of the elegant build of her dame Silverwing and the massive build of Dreamfyre. The perfect mix of both female dragons. Terrifying and beautiful. Her golden scales deepened in colour now shining more brightly. Now she truly was a golden lady.

His eyes wandered to Rhaenyra, her eyes shining with unshod tears. Worry filled him. “Rhaenyra?”, he asked cautiously. Unusual for him, but he was discovering new sides of himself when he was in her company. Faster than he thought she would be, her agility had improved since they started training, but she surprised him once again, she surged forward. Right into his arms. Catching her body, he hugged her smaller frame against his chest. “Kirimvose kepus.”, she whispered. He placed a kiss atop her head. Carefully, he shifted her body away and placed her down.

Confused, she looked up to him, only to see him getting on one knee. If they had an audience he would never have done so, but since their only audience were their dragons, who shielded them from any unwelcome viewers, he continued. “Rhaenyra, issa byka zaldrīzes, issa jorrāelagon. Nyke emagon vēttan mistakes se nyke daor worthy hen aōha forgiveness nykeā aōha devotion. Yn ao emagon issa prūmia se nyke jaelagon naejot spent se rest hen issa glaeson rūsīr ao. Nyke emagon wasted jēdri rūsīr lanta wives bona istan daor meant syt issa. Nyke emagon ōdrikagon ao rūsīr issa decisions se nyke jorepagon naejot se fourteen ao jāhor sagon able naejot mazōregon issa apologies se issa proposal. Nyke ūndegon ao. Issa fiery byka zaldrīzes. Se future hen īlva lentor se se mēre nyke jaelagon qilōni would sagon issa mērī ābrazȳrys. Nyke jaelagon naejot sagon aōha consort se se kepa hen aōha riñar. (Rhaenyra, my little dragon, my love. I have made mistakes, and I am not worthy of your forgiveness or your devotion. But you have my heart and I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. I have wasted years with two wives that were not meant for me. I have hurt you with my decisions and I pray to the fourteen you will be able to accept my apologies and my proposal. I see you. My fiery little dragon. The future of our house and the one I wish who would be my only wife. I want to be your consort and the father of your children.)”, he stopped to take a breath before continuing.

“Nyke swear naejot honour ao, naejot sagon aōha egros se sumby. Kostagon īlva odds pryjagon issa ilagon lo nyke dishonest bisa oath nykeā mirre oath nykeā emagon given se jāhor tepagon naejot ao. Would ao dīnagon issa isse se tradition hen īlva lentor se letagon īlva souls syt eternity se grant issa se privilege naejot umbagon ondoso aōha paktot? (I swear to honour you, to be your sword and shield. May our odds strike me down if I dishonour this oath or any oath I have given and will give to you. Would you marry me in the tradition of our house and bind our souls for eternity and grant me the privilege to stay by your side?)” he was worried, knowing what he had done was not easily forgiven. Daemon Targrayen was not a man of words, he was a man of actions. “Oh Daemon. You silly dragon.” Looking up at his niece, he saw her smiling. “Kessa, issa prūmia nyke jāhor. (Yes, my heart, I will.)”

Chapter Text

King Viserys of House Targaryen was tired. Each year was getting harder and the conflict between his family members was hard on him. He knows his queen and his brother would never be friends or cordial with each other. Daemon despised every Hightower and everything that had anything to do with Oldtown. His brother resented their uncle Vaegon for leaving his family and becoming a Maester. The Rogue prince never believed in the Seven and would never do so. Despite many Maesters and septa’s efforts, nothing could convince Dameon to even remotely accept the faith of the seven as his own. Not even their grandfather King Jaehaerys. His brother was and always would be a follower of the Fourteen Flames.

As had their father Baelon and their mother Alyssa. Viserys himself was not much of a follower of either faith. But since he never publicly declared himself, the Kingdom assumed there kind followed the Seven. If that were true he would have annulled the marriage he had just read about, like his wife vehemently demanded him to. But since Valyrian faith was not forbidden, only rarely practiced, he refused to do so. If he had, his authority as King would have weakened. If he gave the Seven weight over the Valyrian how long till the Citadel demanded the old gods of the North to be erased.

He was the most powerful man in the Kingdom, but he knew when a battle was lost. To favour one religion over another and let it erase others was not good for the peace in the realm. Truthfully, the Valyrian faith was practiced by three families. His own, his Velaryon cousins and the Celtigars. If he forbade it, his own family would revolt against him. And even the citadel could not withstand Dragonfire. He had no doubt Daemon would finish what their ancestor Maegor had threatened to do. Burn Oldtown and the faith to the ground. Caraxes was no Balerion, but his fire burned hot nonetheless. As hot as daemons hatred of the House and the city that harboured the Citadel.

When he heard Rhaenyra had sent a raven he had assumed she would announce her future consort. A respectable nobleman or that she, the stubborn Targrayen that she was, would refuse once again. Since he had given her the ultimatum, he had not seen nor heard from her. His beloved child had a temper similar to his brother. Both hot headed and dangerous when crossed. Rhaenyra might be more forgiving than Daemon, but she was a dragon. Dragons held grudges by nature. They were creatures with excellent memory.

His choice to side with his wife’s demands had slighted his daughter and he was paying for it. Since that council session his wife had smiled more, but Rhaenyra’s silence was what occupied his mind. His daughter was proud, as any Targaryen was. He had hoped that Alicent and Rhaenyra could reconcile and be friends again. He had thought marrying her friend would mean less conflict. How wrong he had been. The second Aegon had been born his daughter had chosen to step back from their family. Isolating herself more. Concentrating on her own family. Her sons were a few months older than Aemond.

He had hoped his son and grandsons would be companions, but his daughter had refused to bring her sons to Kingslanding. They were nearing their third nameday and still she refused. Out of fear she would complete reject him, he stopped asking and instead enjoyed spending time with her when she was present for the council meetings. He had granted her the seat to his right, on-site of his hands seat. She was his heir and he wanted her near him when he could. Even if it was only in council sessions.

Sitting in his chambers in front of his Valyrian model he waved the servants away, to get his children back to their chambers, he did not have the nerve to listen to the eldest boys rambling or him picking his siblings. Despite Alicent's insistence that they should spend more time with him, they were his heirs, his house's future she emphasized more often than not. But Rhaenyra was the heir to his crown. Alicent's children were second in line, though after Aerion’s and Baelon’s birth they were further down the succession line. Thus, there was no reason for them to see him while he was working on matters for the realm. Not yet at least. They were still children, unlike his Rhaenyra who was a grown woman.

A servant had given him the letter from Dragonstone. Alicent noticed she was present when he read it., but she had to put their youngest to bed and had to rest because she was pregnant with their next child. So he refused to wait and thus read it alone. It was likely she would not even be able to read the letter. Rhaenyra always wrote in High Valyrian. As did Daemon in the rare letters he sent. Despite Alicent's years as queen she had not learned Valyrian and refused to. She barely let the Maesters teach his children their mother tongue.

Kepa, I hope my letter finds you while you are in good health.

It has disturbed me to hear about your Condition. Might I suggest you try other treatments than your Grandmaester has you undergoing. Mayhaps ask great-uncle Baelon for help. After all he is family and has more experience as a Maester than your current Grandmaester. I worry about your health Kepa, please let me send healers for you and at least hear them out before letting your queen send them away again.

(Where she had got the information on his condition he wasn’t sure. But it would not surprise him if Dameon had informed her. His brother had friends in places no one thought to look.)

I myself am in good health. As are Aerion and Baelon. My sons are as always eager and bright boys. They spent the day in their lessons or tormenting Daemon in their free time. I am only glad they have yet to start playing with Daemons gifts. Otherwise, we would have a few injured people. Wood cannot hurt people much, steel is much sharper. But Daemon enjoys playing with the twins. It is a delight seeing them together. You would not believe it. The great Rogue prince defeated by two toddlers.

Dragonstone is wonderful father. A home where my sons thrive as do their dragons. I have yet to inform you of their names. Aerion’s hatchling is named Vermax, Baelon’s is named Arrax. To honour our gods. I had thought to name them something different. Like Gaelothix or Quicksilver. But the first Quicksilver had a tragic end, I do not wish for my son's dragon to Cary such a tragedy with him. I chose Vermax and Arrax instead. Of course Daemon’s I put helped. I have grown more proficient in Valyrian again. I missed speaking it regularly. Now it is my sons primary language. I imagine their common will be a bit accented. But we are Targrayens, we do not speak common before Valyrian. Daemon teaches them himself, as he once did when I was young. He refused to have the Maesters do it. I think he was offended I even suggested it.

(Something told him she was only rambling to prepare him for news he would not like. Though he had to admit her written Valyrian was as flawless as always. He longed to hear her speak, and he longed to spent time with his grandsons. Of course Daemon, as the prideful man he was, would teach the boys their mother tongue. There was no question, his brother was a good teacher. Passionate about their heritage. The boys were in the right hands when it came to learning High Valyrian.)

But enough about that. I have a different reason for writing you Kepa. I am aware you want me to marry someone you deem acceptable. But that I cannot do. I obliged your wishes last time. I married my cousin Laenor without complaint. Though I loved my late husband, for he was my cousin and my kin. The father of my sons and my dear friend, he was not the man I would have chosen as my consort.

He was not made for the court, for the throne and the responsibility of a consort. Laenor’s blood was of the sea and to the sea he returned. I miss him, and it pains me that my sons will never get to learn from their father. Especially Baelon. I had hoped with time Laeno could have taught our sons the way of a Velaryon who would one day lead and rule Driftmark and the Velaryon house. I fear that now Lord Corlys will have to teach my son to sail, but our cousins husband is often away on his voyages or occupied with the Stepstones. While they are secure now I am unsure if the Three sisters will not attack again. Dorne will not break our agreement, I hear the ruling prince has three children now. Soon to be four. I can only pray our gods are merciful enough to make my children’s life easy. I do not wish for them to grow up surrounded by war.

I did not need sea blood at my side father. We both know that. Mother was of the vale, but she was also a dragon. A dragon is not a slave, but a lonely dragon will not survive. We need each other to survive. Targaryen are called gods amongst men because of our dragons. Perhaps we are more similar to them than many realize. Dragons take one mate for life, Targrayens usually do as well. Laenor was not my destined partner. He was no Targrayen, without doubt he was kin, but he did not burn with the same fire as I. As we do.

In the short time I have spent on Dragonstone in Daemons company I have been happier than during my marriage. I know you will object to my union with my uncle. But we are the blood of dragon. He completes me and I could not wish for a better man to be my husband and consort. Surely you will advise me to chose diff entry. Remind me that he is a Rogue, dangerous and unpredictable. Truly he is all that, but he is family as well. Daemon has only ever been loyal to the Targaryen name. He protected our House, he protected you. And he will protect me. No lord, be it minor or great could offer me the protection and companionship Daemon and with him Caraxes provide me with.

After all every Lord is desperate to strengthen their own line. They would overlook my boys. Despite them being my sons, my heirs, they would not be theirs. I have thought long and hard. Calculated every possible outcome with a dozen different lords. However, only Daemon would treat my sons as his own. Because they are family. His blood. My blood.

Therefore, I write to you, to inform you of my marriage. Daemon and I have weeded in the traditions of our ancestors. Under the moon, binding our souls and hearts. Unifying our blood and lines. I beg you to reconsider your opinion on my husband. I hope you will reconcile, because there is still a chance for you to do so. You are brothers, Daemon has always had you back. So I implore you Kepa, grant me my wish and bless our marriage. I do not wish to anger you with my later, merely inform you of facts.

Long ago I wished for you and mother to be present at my wedding. For only Valyrians can be present during those rites. However since you are ill, angry at us and in Kingslanding I have decided not to incite you. Same with princess Rhaenys. Once I wished to call her aunt, but the bitterness between us is too great. She has been a wonderful grandmother this past year. I am grateful my sons will have her in their life. But neither she nor Lord Corlys would have approved. Therefore, the only witnesses to my union with daemon were my sons, great-uncle Vaegon (who held the ceremony) and my lady in waiting Vivienne Celtigar, as well as our Kingsguards Ser Erryk Cargyll and Ser Steffon Darklyn.

Signed Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne

For a long time he had said nothing. Viserys was speechless and could not form words. His daughter had married his brother. Of course, he should have seen that coming, after all they were living together and Daemon was clever. He was strategic. Marrying Rhaenyra brought him closer to the throne. Viserys knew what Otto would now demand. Disinherit Rhaenyra and make Aegon heir, only to keep Daemon away from the throne. Alicent would say the same. Or that they annul the marriage and marry Rhaenyra to a respectable Lord. But he could not do that.

His brother had married his heir in a Valyrian ceremony. A binding ritual as old as the Freehold. Many generations of Targaraynes had married that way. As did his grandparents and parents. True Baelon and Alyssa had also married in the eyes of the seven, but afterwards they had a Valyrian ceremony on Dragonstone. The Faith of the Seven did not understand Valyrian biding rituals. While the wedding traditions of the Seven bound a couple in life, Valyrian ceremonies bound a couple even in death.

They each swore to honour their partner, their better half and to never stray. To walk their path together in life and later in Balerion’s realm. Something like that could not be annulled. To break ancient traditions like that would be to attract the Fourteens wrath. He would not dare to do so. It would disrespect his parents and his heritage.

”My brother married my daughter.”, he murmured. It seemed he had said it louder than he thought, because his wife, who had just entered his chambers, screeched: “They what!?” 

And so followed an hour-long rant. He knew his wife disagreed and even despised his family’s religion and customs, but her lack of tact was agitating and angering him. Alicents was a believer of the Seven Who Are One, however that gave her no right to judge others who believed differently. ”Such blasphemy cannot be allowed, Viserys! They married without the consent of the King. You would have to give Rhaenyra and Daemon permission to marry. Besides, their marriage is not blessed by any Septon. How could the seven kingdoms accept it if the faith has not. They should have at least had the decency to inform us themselves instead they sent a simple letter. How could they trample on the Seven kingdoms faith so. Ignoring its religion and traditions. And what was Rhaenyra thinking? Daemon of all people…..”, Viserys refused to listen to Alicent ranting, instead he reread Rhaenyra letter time and time again.

His daughter had married without him. One of her most joyous days he had longed to share with her. He had missed it because she feared his rejection. Or rather him rejecting her choice. True he would not have chosen Daemon. He wanted a stable home for his daughter. His brother was anything but stable or the safe choice. No, he was chaotic. Daemon thrived in chaos. He enjoyed creating it. He was dangerously volatile. Furthermore, he killed for being offended with small things. His enemies feared him and his allies feared him. Though Viserys wasn’t sure if he even had allies. Likely only people who were too afraid of crossing him. It had been years since he and daemon had been in agreement about anything.

Daemon was the soldier, the knight, the dashing dragon riding prince. While Viserys favoured history, literature and others. He had less freedom than Daemon. He was the king. What he did was judged by the whole realm. Daemon was his wild younger brother. But despite everything. Despite the dozen banishments, Daemon would always be his beloved younger brother. The one he had held in his arms hours after he was born.

He was the same boy who trailed after him, followed him everywhere and wanted to spend time with his big brother. He remembered that it was him who soothed daemon when he cried over their mothers and brothers deaths. They had spent days sleeping in Daemon’s bed together because his brother couldn’t sleep otherwise. Back then Daemon had changed. His temper had grown worse, but he was always gentle with family. A gentleness the realm never saw.

The King had only ever seen his brother being gentle with Rhaenyra. The Rouge Prince had been a young man when his niece was born. But he had held her with so much care and worry that he would break her, that Viserys barely recognized his brother. Whenever he was in Rhaenyra company he spoke softly, careful not to be too loud. He was watchful of his niece’s every move. Of the people who watched over her in his absence and who kept her company. He defended her fiercely, and he was the one who gave her the egg from which Syrax hatched. While having no regard for King Jaehaerys command.

It was hard for him to unify his brothers' different sides. Without a doubt, his daughter was right. Daemon would not pursue his own legacy above hers, because they had the same legacy. Their descendants would be their legacy. The legacy of House Targaryen.

“Viserys I demand you annul this farce of a marriage. Rhaenyra has clearly shown she is not fit for the throne if she makes decisions on a whim!”, his wife now got his attention again. His brows furrowed. “She should be grateful if any lord will still marry her now. We cannot let this be public knowledge! She should feel ashamed!” Alicent was wildly gesturing now. Her anger and frustration was too big to cover it up with her usual soft and sweet words. He had heard enough now.

“Enough!”, he bit out. “Viserys?”, she questioned, startled. “I have had enough of your ranting woman. You do not demand anything from me. I am your king and your husband. You are forgetting yourself wife.”, he snarled. A dragon whose child was attacked was an unforgiving creature. The King refused to hear further slander about his daughter and heir. “Rhaenyra is my firstborn. She is my heir. Your future queen. She did not make her decision out of a silly whim. We both know why she has chosen Daemon, and frankly I believe she wasn’t wrong now that I hear your words clearly.” “But Viserys, she is going against…..”, Alicent tried to protest weakly, but he cut her off ruthlessly.

“She went against nothing. Neither against your faith. She has stated multiple times during your childhood and during the council meetings that she respects your faith and your gods. But it is in no way necessary for a monarch to be a follower of the Seven Who Are One. Targrayen’s are followers of the Fourteen. My daughter is as much a follower of our gods as Daemon and I are. I will not have you slander my ancestors beliefs and disregard my house's customs and traditions for your own. I have been lenient enough with you as it is. The marriage will not be annulled. She has been witnessed by multiple people and acknowledged by me. I have given her my permission. You were present during the council meeting where I gave her three months to find herself a new consort. She has fulfilled that.”

Viserys was breathing hard and right now he missed his father more than anything. The Spring prince was a wise man even if he was quiet and stoic most of the time. He always knew the answer to any question Viserys had asked him. If Baelon had seen his sons now he would have been ashamed. They were brothers, meant to protect and guide each other. Instead, they had been torn apart and barely spoke. “She was supposed to…”, his wife stopped speaking, as if realizing her mistake.

“She has done what she was supposed to do. I will hear nothing more of the matter.”, he declared. Glaring at his wife. “Ser Harrold.”, he called. “Yes, your grace?” The old Kingsguard, who had once been his daughters sworn shield, asked, looking into the King's chambers. “Have the queen escorted to her chambers, she is not feeling well. And have it announced to the court, that my heir has married and has a new consort.”, he instructed him. “Of course your grace, right away. May I ask who the princess has married?” The Commander of his Kingsguard looked at him. Of course, they both knew the answer, however Ser Harrold wanted to hear the answer anyway. Viserys couldn’t fault the old knight for it. He had watched Rhaenyra grow from a young girl to a maiden to a grown woman with children of her own. “The Crown Princess has married Prince Daemon.”

Italics - means High Valyrian. I was to lazy to translate everything, so I think I will just make High Valyrian Italics again like I did before, but the last few chapters will continue to have Valyrian word because I don’t wnat to delet a bunch of words. Here and there there will be some Valyrian words but likely not full passages. 

Chapter Text

Rhaenys had thought the day would be a good day. She had gone on a flight with Meleys and enjoyed spending time with her dragon. She had neglected her for a while, being busy with ruling Driftmark in Corlys stead. Her husband was once again on one of his voyages. Trying to gather allies in Pentos and also in Dorne. Though she knew he was only pretending. Since Laenor’s death her husband harboured a deep hatred for Dorne.

Rhaenys herself still mourned her son. But what good would it do to destroy a kingdom with thousands of innocents in revenge. Rhaenyra had already avenged his death and humiliated Dorne in the process. Though the famous Sea Snake was not only famous for his voyages and riches, but also because he was famous for holding grudges.

It was her that had been slighted at the Great Council, but till today Corlys felt it was him and his bloodline that got slighted. Sometimes, in the privacy of her thoughts she was glad he had not gott his wish. Only the gods knew what he would have done if she had won the vote. Likely murdered Viserys and his family. Which was one more reason why she never rose against her cousin. Viserys was kind, good-natured and he loved his family. While his love hurt his family members more often than not, he would never willingly sentence another Targrayen to death. He would never order an execution or an assassination attempt.

The other reason was Daemon. Her cousin was a dragon riding prince, a knight already famous for being the best swordsman in the realm. A man even Corlys did not dare to cross. Despite having no army behind him directly Daemon was able to hire hundreds of sell-swords. His more secretive investments with the Iron bank and his adventure in Pentos or Essos garnered him as many enemies as it did allies. As a warrior Corlys could not lose him. Not if he expected to need him sooner rather than later in the Stepstones. For now the Stepstones were secure but who knew if the Three Sisters would keep the peace or if Dorne's next ruling prince or princess would uphold their fathers promises.

Beside all the work helped her keep her mind of Laenor and Laena. Her beloved children. Both lost to her now. One was now with her cousin Aemma, and her parents safe in Balerion realm. Her son was reunited with his murdered lover. Laena, her beloved daughter, was driven away by her own madness. She and Vhagar had vanished. Where she did not know. She had paid many to ask around and search for information. As had her husband. Both desperate for any information on her whereabouts. Daemon of course could not care less. He had divorced Laena and not even Otto Hightower could have denied him the annulment.

After all, Laena was the one who burned a ship and murdered innocent men. And the one who had betrayed her arraign vows. The one who was declared mad. Her surviving child thrived on Dragonstone. Once cared for by Rhaenyra, her niece had informed her that a servant couple had fallen in love with the girl. The pair was unable to have children and were delighted with caring for the child. The princess had informed her and waited for a moon for any answer. Rhaenys had not given one. Despite Laena’s blood in the child, Rhaenys could not acknowledge her as her granddaughter. She was a bastard. A stain on house Velaryons honour and reputation. A stain Corlys was delighted to forget.

Rhaenys however broke her heart, not being able to protect and take in the girl like she would have loved to do. But her niece has sworn to her, she would regularly update her on the girl's condition and that her granddaughter was perfectly safe with the servant couple. Out of the public's eye, hidden in plain sight, but safe from those who might seek to harm her. In those few words Rhaenyra had written to the topic, Rhaenys could recognize Aemma. The Crown princess had inherited her compassionate heart from her mother. Aemma had never been anything but kind to Rhaenys. Even when the older princess was cold to the Arryn queen. Whenever she thought back to Aemma’s funeral, she felt nothing but shame. Rhaenyra had to light her mother's pyre herself. No one but Daemon offered any comforting words to her. The court simply awaited the King's announcement to remarry. For their chance to make their daughters queen. All the while, her niece has suffered and mourned in silence and in isolation. After all, Daemon had been banished soon after the funeral.

Rhaenys herself had been too busy with Laena and her possible accession to queen, that she had overlooked Rhaenyra’s pain completely. That and how she had treated her former daughter-in-law during her marriage to Laenor was something Rhaenyra would likely never forgive her for. Maybe her niece could someday forgive her unfair treatment, but she would never forget it. Daemon on the other hand would certainly always remember Rhaenys’ and Laena’s words. Her cousin was a man of many talents. And of many traits. One of those was his unforgiving nature. Someone who slighted him personally could get away with it, with injuries. But someone who insulted or harmed his family, especially Rhaenyra, those people were his enemies.

She attempted despite being cousins and their fathers obviously loving each other very much, she and Daemon had rarely gotten along. Both headstrong and stubborn. Temperamental Targaryens who were not used to having someone else who was equal to them. None of their fathers joined efforts to reconcile them, had worked. She spent more time with Viserys. With him being older and closer to her in age. Though sometimes she had spent a quiet evening in the library with daemon reading Valyrian poems and ancient tomes.

However her relationship had never been the same after she formed a bond with Meleys. Likely because Dameon never forgave her for trying her hand before Viserys or him could have. Though that pain was even, in her mind, when he bonded with Caraxes years later. But Daemon could hold grudges like no other. He also loved Rhaenyra more than anything else. Always had and always would. She was sure even if he one day had children Rhaenyra would always be his first priority.

Once she had thought, like many others, that Daemon would see his niece as competition for the throne he longed for. But those rumours and whispers ceased soon after the first servant witnessed Daemon with his baby niece. In her childhood Rhaenyra had always sought out either daemon or uncle Baelon. She remembered how her uncle had finally started smiling again after Rhaenyra’s birth, and he continued smiling genuinely only in her presence.

Something similar happened with Daemon. If she had not witnessed it with her own eyes, she would have thought it was court gossip. Daemon singing in their mother tongue to an infant Rhaenyra. Long after the princess had fallen asleep. Since then, it had often been Daemon who soothed the princess to sleep. He spent more time with her than anyone else. Even Rhaenyra’s own parents. Aemma was occupied with recovering from her pregnancy and her labours, Viserys was occupied by his model and the scheming Otto Hightower who whispered in his ears day and night. Rhaenys did not want to acknowledge it, but Laenor was not the only one unhappy or heartbroken by their marriage.

Laenor mourned Joffrey and any chance of happiness. Rhaenyra mourned the chance to have a life with Daemon. Though the crown princess found happiness in her sons. Rhaenys’ grandsons she had shamed for the first year of their lives. Called bastards and refused to acknowledge them in any way. Thus, she had driven a wedge between them. A wedge she would have to work for the rest of her life to close. The twins would likely not remember her treatment but their mother and great-uncle would. And the whispers would follow them, they would one day learn why their great-uncle was cold to her and why they, despite being cousins, barely talked.

For the last three moons she could barely get away from Driftmark. She had not seen her grandsons once. Too busy with keeping up with Corlys paperwork in his absence. It angered her that her husband just left her behind, enjoying his freedom and his voyages, while she worked hard to keep Driftmark from collapsing or from falling into Vaemond hands. She knew her brother-in-law was waiting for any chance to get to the Driftwood throne. Every time Corlys left she was afraid he would not return. Baelon was too young to rule for many years. And he was still a child now, his education had barely even started.

Vaemond would not shrink away from Kinslaying to achieve his goals or to secure his sons place in the succession of Driftmark. If Baelon had been a girl, she would likely have married one of Vaemond boys or grandsons. But her grandson was a boy not a girl. Vaemond had no female in his family that could marry Baelon. To make up for her mistakes she would protect Baelon’s claim and his life. Though she was sure, Vaemond would hesitate to try anything as long as Baelon resided on Dragonstone. With Daemon there was no chance for any assassin to succeed in killing Baelon. Should, with luck, the assassination actually works, Daemon would kill dozens in retribution. Not only because he loved those boys, but also because of Rhaenyra. One of her children’s deaths would break her heart. Something Daemon would not tolerate.

Hence, why she should have seen the announcement coming. Truthfully she wasn’t that surprised when the letter reached her. Addressed to her and Corlys. Not as the warden or lord/lady of Driftmark, but as her kin. Nevertheless, she dreaded reading the princesses words. She was expecting Daemon to write to her tauntingly. But instead it was actually Rhaenyra who wrote her or them.

Well since Corlys wasn’t here she would tell him the news once he was back. Whenever that was. Only then did she take notice of the young man who brought her the letter. His black hair, streaked with pale silver, was somehow familiar. It reminded her of Vaemond and Corlys hair. As did his skin. The boy looked to be a bit younger than Laenor had been. Her heart tightened in her chest seeing the young man. So similar to her own son in his looks. But it couldn't be. Corlys was careful in hiding his bastards. Of course, she knew her husband had some. Conceived before their marriage and after during his voyages. She had no prof yet, but if she was right in her suspicion her husband not only thought he was entitled to having bastards or mistresses, but he also thought her to be stupid.

If he truly brought one of his bastards to work inside the castle, he had another thing coming. But right now she had other things to think about than a boy that might or might not be her husband's natural-born son. She would find out more once he was back.

Rhaenys sat back on the Driftwood Throne and waved the boy away. He walked out faster than he came in, after he noticed her gaze. For a solid minute she stared at the letter. Unsure if she wanted to read it. Unlike her cousin Viserys she was no idiot who was blind to his daughter's wishes and his brother's desires. Frankly she was shocked they had waited so long. Taking a deep breath and bashing her thoughts about her lost children to the back of her mind she opened the seal that sealed the letter. Targaryen often wrote in High Valyrian to keep the information in their letter from being discovered by eyes they did not want them to read.

To Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen.

Unlike my father it will not help me escape your wrath or lessen your ire or sooth your fury with soft words or reminding you of our shared past. Because I have few fond memories of your princess. Once I wished to call you aunt, but that desire has passed. I only truly remember the woman who did not come when my mother asked for her support in her pregnancy, young and afraid to lose another child. I remember the woman who let me grieve alone, who had no comforting words on the day of my mother's funeral. The woman who spoke harsh, if true and necessary, words to a young princess. An heir like you have been yourself once. I thought I would find support in you. But I only found pain in your company. First the prospect of Laena being my stepmother. I loved my cousin, but someone younger than me as my stepmother, whose children would likely one day try to usurper my throne, in that regard I am glad Alicent married my father. She is not family unlike Laena.

Second when you gave me no support after I married Laenor. True I made the mistake of foolishly trusting Daemon blindly, when he was so angry at my father, that he did not think straight and nearly ruined my reputation. Nevertheless, you and Lord Corlys used me, a fellow Valyrian woman, a family member, who would never shame Laenor for his taste and would never expose him, simply because he is my family, to hide the fact that Laenor was not the heir you wanted. Only because he loved differently than you would have liked. I refuse to write of yours and Laena’s cruel words, because I do not wish to cry and agitate my children or motivate my husband in taking action.

I hereby wish to inform you of my marriage to Prince Daemon of House Targrayen. A man, who I trust and love since the day I was born. He made mistakes, and he hurt me, but he did not betray me. You will think me naive princess, maybe I am still a young woman who is in love with the idea of Daemon. But I’m no fool. Neither am I a young maiden anymore. Make no mistake I have forgiven Daemon for his past actions, but you of all people know Targrayen’s never forget. I have not forgotten.

The love I felt for Laenor and the love I have for Daemon are different. Laenor was never more than a companion to me. Even though he gave me the greatest gifts of all, my sons. Aerion and Baelon are as much mine as they are his. I will not erase Laenor, and I will mourn my cousin, he was a good man and tried his best. But a part of him died that night.

Daemon would love nothing more than to forget either of us was married before, I however will not. I could never dishonour Laenor like that. Though I care not for Lord Corlys or your honour. Not anymore. The only thing I want from you is your guaranteed support for my sons as long as you live. My words are deliberate. I say my sons because they are your blood. If you do not wish to fight the coming war (we both know the Greens will not relinquish the Throne without bloodshed) for my claim, fight it for Aerion’s and Baelon’s.

I would have invited you to officiate our wedding in our house's tradition, but I was sure you would have loudly disapproved and started an argument with Daemon. Therefore, I write to you two days after my wedding. Before you try to claim it as false, multiple people witnessed the ceremony. Consummated as well already. (That sentence was in Daemons handwriting, she could practically feel his smugness.)

Since I am aware Lord Corlys is away on his voyage I ask that you inform him of the news when he returns. I will not endlessly send a raven, since I have no idea, nor do I care to find out where he is. Your blessing is not necessary. I have mourned Laenor longer than many think proper. But he deserved that much. And I will not be threatened or forced into another arranged marriage, that promises to make me miserable.

Signed Princess Rhaenyra of House Targrayen, Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne

At least her niece did bother to write this letter with politeness. Her words sharp and cutting either way. Though she would have to start calling her cousin. After all it was clear she did not wish to call her aunt. Rhaenys would not force her. Knowing she lost that privilege. Even if she had no. Daemon would likely have thrown a fuss. Since she was only his cousin and not his sister, she had no right to call Rhaenyra niece. Unlike he had and his deceased brother Aegon would have had. She would always be cousin Rhaenys.

If she claimed not to be angered she would be lying. Laenor was her son, her only son. But the morning Periode was over. She could not hold it against Rhaenyra to have married again. Viserys, the foolish man he was, likely gave her and ultimatum. And if he gave her one Rhaenyra would have told Daemon. He lived with her on Dragonstone. Sooner or later he would have found out even if the Crown Princess did not tell him anything. So it wasn’t a surprise he had made his move. She had known the minute he had annulled his union to Laena he would pursue Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra who was the only person in the realm Daemon actually loved. True Daemon loved his family, but solely Rhaenyra had a special place in the dark violent pit that was Daemon’s heart. She would always be safe from him, protected by him. Her cousin would sooner turn his own sword upon himself than harm his niece. Truthfully if she thought back, Daemon hadn’t brought his army of sellwords and his dragon to Harrenhal to support Viserys over her. No he had supported, or rather protected Rhaenyra.

Somehow he must have seen through Corlys intentions. Not that it would have been hard to imagine. Her husband was ruthless and cruel if he wanted to be. He would have killed Viserys, Aemma and even Rhaenyra if it meant securing her crown after the Great Council. Being branded a Kinslayer was the worst omen for a Targrayen. Though Maegor did not seem to have a problem with that. She would not become one. Rhaenys would never have ordered something like that, but Daemon knew her husband good enough to intervene, to prevent even the possibility.

So she lost and went to Driftmark licking her wounds. Refusing to associate with her family in Kingslanding. At the same time she refused any kind of revenge Corlys offered her. Despite being hurt by her family’s decision. They were still that. Her family. Her blood. People she had grown up with. Or in Rhaenyra’s case still children, innocent of any guilt. Because of that she refused to do anything against the councils decision and forbade Corlys from enacting his revenge plans. Which was most likely the first (but not necessarily the first) of many times he betrayed their marriage bed.

She had no delusions. Having a husband that was loyal was rare. She only knew of her uncle Baelon and her father as such men. Even her grandfather stayed from her queenly grandmother. Even Viserys needed whores when Aemma was pregnant or to weak. Daemon could not be taken as an example. Because he loved neither of his first two wives. Rhea Royce was fine with keeping to herself and having an absent husband who spent his time fighting and fucking whores. It was rumoured that Runestones lady was more interested in ladies than in men. Though Rhaenys did not care for such rumours. Daemon's escapades gave his first wife the perfect cover to have lovers of her own.

Not that it mattered. Rhea Royce was dead. During his marriage to Laena she had not heard much of him fucking other women. Neither had he touched her daughter. She felt pity for her younger cousin, a starved man like Daemon could be relentless, now that he was able to marry the one person he would be satisfied with.

Daemon was the only logical option. Aside from Laenor or one of the Celtigars boys (all either to young for the princess or already married) there was no advantageous match with Valyrian blood. She knew Rhaenyra well enough to know that the crown princess would never settle for a lesser man. Either she would marry a valyrian Or she would have eaten her husband alive. Her stubborn cousin would never have chosen an Andal man. Someone who definitely would have used her for his own gain. For her blood and to elevate his own station. Every other man aside from Laenor and Daemon would try to control her and be king through her.

Her beloved son did not have the ambition to be king or the nerve to think of such schemes. So Rhaenyra would have him as her consort. Laenor would never have tried to usurper her. Neither would Daemon. Everyone was so sure her cousin's ambitions lay in the throne. But she wasn’t so sure. He was obsessed with legacy. His house is a legacy.

That aside, as Rhaenyra’s husband he would have everything he ever wanted. A Valyrian wife, his legacy assured and a purpose. Daemon was a natural protector. He would go down in history as Rhaenyra’s consort. The Prince or King Consort. As her protector. Her sword and shield. The weapon she let loose on her enemies. Few would be foolish enough to anger the Rogue Prince by attacking his wife. His beloved niece, the mother of his children.

Rhaenys shivered at that thought. For Daemon Aerion and Baelon were already his children. They would call him kepa, would learn from him, taught by him. They would never know Laenor like they should have had. Once she had feared these children would mysteriously die, but she learned that as long as any child had Rhaenya’s blood running through their veins, they would be safe from Daemon's wrath. Because hurting her children would hurt Rhaenyra. It did not matter to him that another was their sire. Daemon was the man who would raise them at their mothers side.

And he will be the sire of Rhaenyra's ’ future offspring. Dragons were fiercely protective and jealous. They took one mate and stayed loyal their whole life. The announcement was cleverly worded. Rhaenyra reminded her that she didn't owe Rhaenys any explanation. She didn’t need her permission or blessing. The letter was a formality. The crown princess addressed her directly and with honesty. While she likely had approached her father differently. With more emotional manipulation involved. Something that wouldn’t work on Rhaenys.

She might have made her peace with Rhaenyra’s decisions and actions, but she would forever blame Daemon for her daughter's departure. Her Laena was still nowhere to be found. Day and night she worried about her daughter. Who did not deserve her fate. She could only pray to the fourteen flames, that they were merciful enough to leave her daughter alive. She could not endure her other child’s loss. Maybe she was finally happy, wherever she might be. With Vhagar at her side. As long as Vhagar did not return to Westeros, sh e knew her daughter was still alive.

A treacherous voice in the back of her head, that sounded suspiciously like her father, was glad that it also meant that Vhagar could not fall in the hands of the greens. None of the queens children had dragons yet. But they would one day be old enough to claim dragons. Dreamfyre, Silverwing and Vermithor remained riderless. Seasmoke, Sunfyre and Tessarion as well. Though two of them were still hatchlings. They wouldn’t be forever. There were also Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer and the Cannibal to consider. Alas the Cannibal killed every person that tried to tame him. Grey Ghost was notoriously shy and Sheepstealer was rarely seen as well.

If the Green children claimed hatchlings, there would be no problem. It would only be problematic if they claimed grown dragons. There was always assassination. Which was more Daemons style. Though like herself, Rhaenyra did not strike her as the type who would order her half-sibling's death. Not in such a way. If they died on the battlefield, that was a different story.

As long as those children were not grown, they were safe from daemon. Rhaenyra was more than capable of staying his hand. No Targrayen killed children of their blood. Grown members were a different story. Thinking of such things, she was always glad Daemon was not a second Maegor like Otto Hightower liked to paint him. Maegor had been the worst Targrayen of all time. He murdered his own family. Killed even children. Tortured his nephew for days until his death.

Daemon might hate the half blood Hightowers, but he was not that much of a monster. However, there was always the possibility of him snapping and turning into one. If anyone could handle daemon Targrayen it was Rhaenyra. The heir had a temperament and stubbornness that could match the Rogue princes easily.

Had the letter come on any other day, but the one where Corlys betrayal of their marriage was so obvious, she would have been furious. Right now, she was only thinking of how enraged Corlys would be at the news. Enraged because his legacy would mean less than the Targrayen legacy Daemon would teach the boys. She knew he had hoped to convince Rhaenyra to let him foster the boys, or only Baelon sooner rather than later. With Daemon now in the picture, he could forget that. He would kill Corlys for suggesting parting Rhaenyra from her sons. Corlys would be lucky if the couple would ever let Baelon be fostered in Driftmark for even a month.

Rhaenyra barely trusted them. Daemon mistrusted them outright. Family they might be, but they had disappointed both too much to have the worth of family in their eyes. Rhaenys would enjoy seeing Corlys face when she delivered the news. Which did not mean that she wasn’t angry. It hurt to know her son was being replaced, but she could not hide from the truth. Her refusal to go against Colrys and Viserys’ decision to marry their heirs robbed her of her son. She refused to let the same happen to her grandsons. Even if Corlys declared against the marriage, he would be too late. The whole realm would know by then. Either because Viserys announced it or daemon proclaimed it.

Rhaenys wouldn’t let her husband's or her own pride get in her way. Her grandsons deserved better. They could not be blamed for anything, and she had nearly lost the possibility of building a relationship with them. She was too old to bear more children. And Aerion and Baelon were all that was left of Laenor. Corlys could have his fun and have as many bastards as he wanted. She would ensure Targrayen blood sat on the Driftwood throne. Baelon Targrayen would be the next lord of the tides and ruler of Driftmark. Maybe her husband had forgotten it, but Rhaenys was also a Targaryen and she had a dragon. A dragon she wasn’t afraid to use if necessary.

Chapter Text

Daemon had never been happier in his life. He had everything he ever wanted. A Valyrian wife, his niece, his beloved little dragon, forever bound to him. Their souls united in their houses' traditions. He was the proud father of two hatchlings, who were growing with each month. A feared warrior and respected Prince was what he wanted to be once upon a time, now all that was important to him was Rhaenyra’s trust. Her trust, her safety, and her happiness.

While his little dragon had been reluctant with her smiles, only giving them freely to Syrax and her twins, she finally began smiling more after their wedding. He loved making her laugh and went out of his way to try, and make her smile. Daemon was glad she was seeing the danger the greens posed for her and their children, but he disliked seeing her stressed or worried.

Which was why he made a point to take her flying as often as they could, accompanied her on her duties on Dragonstone, helped her care for their children and trained with her. Of course, he also properly exhausted her before they went to bed. He had learned that Rhaenyra rarely slept really long if she wasn’t truly tired. Her mind just couldn’t stop thinking. So he got her to stop thinking of anything else but their coupling.

Though in the past months his wife had become rather agitated. Always tight until he either massaged her feet, shoulder or back or he wrung half a dozen orgasm from her. She was stressed and worried about something. Every time she had to answer a letter from her father she was in a mood. Viserys was now asking her to come back to Kingslanding more often. As if Rhaenyra would ever leave her sons alone for longer than necessary to attend the council meetings.

No Targaryen mother wanted to be far from her child. Even Aemma, who was raised in a different belief and not in a Targaryen household, loathed spending so little time with Rhaenyra. Thanks to her constant state of pregnancy his sister-in-law rarely had enough energy to keep up with their little energetic dragon princess. So she asked him to watch over her and keep her company.

For her mother couldn’t and her father rather spent time with his advisors. Only rarely seeking his daughter out. They ate together, sure, but otherwise Rhaenyra had spent much of her time alone outside her lessons. Or when she was old enough to ride Syrax without the adults around her having to worry about her, she sought her dragons company.

The dragons adored his niece. Then and they did now. Whenever she went to the Dragon pit the dragons seemed more alert, happy to see her. Her presence lightened up not only his dark heart. There was a reason his nickname for her stuck around. To him, she was his delight. But the Realm saw her as a delight as well. Thus, the nickname the Realm Delight stuck.

Though for Daemon she would forever be his delight. The Rogue’s Delight. His heart, his soul, and his conscience. The person who kept him on the ground and helped him with his morals. Truthfully he would kill every single of her allies today if she asked him to. He would slit Otto and Alicent Hightowers throats, burn Oldtown and the faith to the ground like his ancestor Maegor should have. Would kill his brothers spawns to spare her from having to order their death when they took their swords up against her.

But his soft-hearted wife did not loath her half-siblings like they would loathe her one day. She was too kind and understanding for that. The person she hated was Alicent and her father. The ones that were the actual masterminds behind the greens schemes. Of course, she wasn’t wrong, but she also refused to let him kill them. Or to hire assassins to do it. No matter what argument he brought before her. The Greens wouldn’t hesitate to fight dirty. They would send assassins.

They would spread rumours and lies about her. Rhaenyra was above such things. Targrayen’s did not care for the words and actions of sheep. He loved her, but damm her for throwing his own word back into his face. Her smile had discharged him enough that he once again gave up on convincing her. He had time still, maybe if he stayed persistent she would finally see what he saw. Of course, he knew she would never like his worst impulses, but she accepted them. That was what counted for him. He only wished to protect her in any way he could. Even if he had to become the villain and the most hated man in Westeros.

Viserys would die one day. His brother was not a strong man. Not in mind and not in body. The only quality his brother had in his eyes was the love he bore for his daughter. Alas, even that love seemed not enough to overcome the hatred his own brother felt towards him. Even Rhaenys, and he got along better than he and Viserys. His cousin still hated him for playing a role in Laena’s madness, but she resented him as her grandsons primary paternal figure. Rhaenys knew he would be the only choice to defend Rhaenyra’s claim. No other man would marry her for the reason he had married her.

Daemon wasn’t after titles, he had those already, he wasn’t after wealth, his was larger than many believed. He wasn’t even after the throne. He simply wanted Rhaenyra. The greatest treasure of all. His little dragon, his beloved wife and his future Queen.

He didn’t doubt that many believed he had different reasons for marrying her. Viserys and his Hightower whore certainly did, and they wrote as much. Truly he felt insulted by his brother's lack of trust. But he was used to it by now. It didn’t matter to him anymore. Rhaenyra and their sons did. Aerion and Baelon were his world. He couldn’t wait to teach them like his father taught him. Aerion would one day inherit Blackfyre, as the heir and future king he would learn to wield the Kings ancestral sword. So would Baelon. Daemon had decided months ago that his second son would inherit Dark Sister from him.

Despite knowing his wife would tell him if something was wrong her confusing behaviour continued for days. Even Syrax was getting affected by it. Caraxes complained about it to him multiple times. His lady love would snap at him out of nowhere and curl herself up in their nest, so tightly his dragon could only curl around her. Poor Caraxes was confused and agitated that his mate seemed to be distressed by something.

His wife’s golden lady was a spoiled dragon but in the last few years she had started to hunt for herself and hunt together with Caraxes. Especially after the ritual. Their dragon's size was no secret on Dragonstone, but no one else knew it. There were rumours, but neither he nor Rhaenyra denied or confirmed them. Besides, Kingslanding was far enough away that they could fly comfortably without worrying they would be spotted.

Which was different with Driftmark. Rhaenys was much closer to them than Viserys. Though his cousin had not seen Caraxes or Syrax either. But she had asked about the rumours. Alas, Daemon had denied her the knowledge of the ritual. Rhaenys might be on their side since she finally understood Aerion and Baelon were her blood, but he did not trust her.

If someone lost the trust of a dragon once it was hard to gain it back. And Rhaenys was not trying to gain his trust back. Unlike he had tried for months with Rhaenyra. Daemon was just glad that Rhaenys had enough respect for their culture that she stopped asking questions and kept quiet. Corlys was away more often than not. Truly the man was a pain. As much as he had tried to persuade Rhaenyra to let him take Baelon once he was older, the Sea Snake was barely involved in his grandsons lives. A fact his wife did not like. A fact that would bite the Lord in his ass later.

His sons were incredibly attached to his wife. Rhaenyra was their favourite person. Understandable of course. She was also his favourite person. He could already see much of his beloved wife in their sons. Aerion was just as spoiled as she had been. As demanding. When he was in the room most of the attention was on him. Baelon was quieter than his older twin. But his younger son came more after his wife’s sensitive, emotional side. Baelon was the first who comforted his brother when he was crying. Doing it before anyone even noticed the boy was upset.

His youngest boy seemed to know instinctively when someone wasn’t feeling well. Which endeared him to many on the island. While Aerion commanded attention, Baelon commanded hearts. Daemon was sure when they grew into it, they would be an unstoppable force together. Brothers who would work together and support the other. No matter what anyone else said.

The Rogue Prince had sworn himself that he would not let his sons grow up to be like Viserys and him. Divided and torn apart by lies. He would teach them to believe each other. They were brothers, they shared blood. They were family, and it was unacceptable that others got in between them. Aerion and Baelon would be better than him and Viserys. They would be the King and Hand Viserys, and he should have been.

Though he would likely never get to see his sons like that. After all, he did not plan to live longer than Rhaenyra. For years, he had lived without her. Now that he was married to her, his soul intervened with hers, he did not wish to spend time without her. Ever again.

Watching his sons play on the ground not far from their hatchlings, who were watching over them. Never far away, though they would soon be too big to keep inside the castle. His wife’s strange behaviour was agitating him. Like Syrax Rhaenyra had grown snappy. More easily agitated or startled. She only truly relaxed when she was either in Syrax company or with the twins or when he had fucked her so through fully her limbs didn’t work any more.

Daemon had reached his limit when a servant informed him that Rhaenyra was visiting Maester Geradys after she had thrown up. As much as he wanted to be patient and wait for her in their chamber nothing could soothe his worry. Not even their sons coos and laughs while they played with their dragon toys.

So he instructed the guards to keep an eye on the twins and threatened them with bodily harm if even one hair was out of place. He would never play with his children’s safety. Rhaenyra would feed him to Caraxes if something happened to them while they were technically under his supervision. And his dragon would gladly do it. While he didn’t doubt that Caraxes loved him, Rhaenyra always had a way with dragons. Especially Caraxes. His dragon had loved Rhaenyra from the moment he first met her.

So assured that the guard would take their task seriously he strode to the Maesters chambers. While he would have normally stormed in, he refrained from doing so this time. Rhaenyra was as fierce as any Targrayen woman was when she was angry. And she easily matched him when she was actually angry at him. The one time she screamed at him, he was so baffled that it took him a day to understand her.

True she had apologized for screaming at him, but she had been near ill with worry. Daemon had forgotten to inform her that he took the twins to meet their grandfather at the port on the rare day Corlys visited Dragonstone. His wife had frantically searched the whole castle and couldn’t find the twins. Later when they both calmed down they spoke about it. Since then nothing like that has happened. But it had showed him that he did not wish to truly earn Rhaenyra’s ire.

Not if it meant she would banish him from their chambers for days. He knocked on the Maesters doors waiting for Rhaenyra to allow entrance. “Come in.” Her lovely voice commanded. He opened the door and entered the room.

”Daemon, my love is everything alright?”, she asked standing up from where she had sat in front of the Maester. Coming towards him and caressing his check. Maester Geradys bowed his head in greeting and waited. “I’m perfectly fine, but you aren’t. I have waited for you to tell me and I tried to be patient. By the Fourteen I tried, but I cannot any longer. I beg of you to tell me what is wrong so I can make it right.”, Daemon had enough, and he refused to waste more time.

Rhaenyra looked him in the eye and she giggled. His wife giggled at his worry. He raised an eyebrow and stared at her face. His niece had always been beautiful even as a child, but as a grown woman she was breathtaking. Especially when she was happy. He couldn’t thank the gods enough that she agreed to be his wife.

Their wedding was not a grand one, as much as he wanted her to have one, Rhaenyra persuaded him to hold the ceremony in their family’s tradition. Overseen by Maester Geradys and witnessed by her Ladies in waiting and her Kingsguard. She had not cared for a grand wedding. Her wedding to Laenor had been a spectacle, nothing more. Her wedding to him was supposed to be different. A ceremony for them, quiet, intimate and in Valyrian tradition.

Of course, he made her wish come true. It took a few days to organize everything, but nothing was impossible for Daemon Targrayen if it meant making Rhaenyra happy. The wedding robes needed a bit of restoration but were in good enough shape. And a small feast for Dragonstones citizens was organized.

So on a full moon Dameon took Rhaenyra to the Dragonmont. Were Geradys, her Ladies in waiting and her guard waited. In Westerosi tradition the bride and groom were not allowed to see each other and normally the bride's ladies or servants prepared her. But in Valyrian traditions no such ceremonial traditions existed. Instead, the bride and groom prepared each other. Rhaenyra had helped him into his wedding robes and braided his hair for him. In turn, he helped her into her gown and with the head piece as well as arranging her hair around it. Simple braids that would not hurt her while wearing the head piece.

She looked gorgeous, and he nearly ravished her then and there. Only her stern reminder that they had a ceremony to attend held him back. But her mischievous smile let him know she felt similar to him. So they ended up in front of the Maesters. While her ladies and guard watched from the sidelines. Intimidated by Caraxes and Syrax who loomed behind the Maester. How the man managed to not tremble while their dragons quite literally breath into his neck was a wonder. He had to give him credit where it was due.

The Maester managed to do the ceremony without his voice trembling or passing out. Though he had been a little pale around the nose. Not that daemon cared or really paid attention to him. Why should he if everything he ever wanted was right in front of him?

In old Valyrian tradition they cut their palms, their blood mixing in the ceremonial goblet, heated above the fire their dragons ignited. Joining hands and drinking their combined blood, sealing their vows. Joining their blood and souls in front of their gods. Many Westerosi Lords and Ladies would call their ancestors' tradition barbaric and not legitimate. But for those who still worshipped the Fourteen there was no ceremony more binding. The only ceremony no one could declare void. Not even Viserys could demand an annulment. Which was why his niece had chosen to marry in their ancestors' style. Like his grandparents had married.

Rhaenyra wasn’t a woman that followed the Seven who are one. Unlike her stepmother. His niece respected the faith but refused to bow down to gods that were not her own. She was a devoted follower of the Fourteen. Though her faith had been neglected for years, he himself had only started to pray to the Fourteen Flames regularly again. As did she. In their family resting place. Where their ashes were stored. Every Targaryen rested there. Even Visenya and Maegor. As well as Aemma and all her babies. Babies that never got the chance to live or lived short lives. All of Rhaenyra’s siblings.

It hurt him to see her in the crypt. Witnessing her pain when she prayed for her mother and siblings. Hoping they were happy in Balerion realm. And asking them to watch over her boys. He had taken to regularly pray with her. Before he had not been a man to pray to anyone. But the gods had saved his family for a reason. They owed them gratitude. Without their warnings the Targaryens would be as dead as the rest of the Dragonlords of Old Valyria.

After all Dragons were also a gift from them, and he couldn’t imagine his life without Caraxes. Without him a part of himself would be nonexistent. Caraxes had become a part of him. His mind linking with his. Their consciences intervened. A consequence of the ritual. When the ceremonial rites were finally finished Daemon had dismissed their attendants, who were more than happy to leave. The couple had mounted their dragons and flown to a small island not far away from Dragonstone. An island that had been a sort of meeting point when Rhaenyra was young.

Though Daemon had taken it upon himself to make the island more comfortable. He had hired architects and workers to transform the island into a secluded refuge for Rhaenyra when she needed to get away. But he had not shown her the island yet. Because for one the work hadn’t been done until a few days before their wedding and second his niece had been so busy with their children and her duties that they barely found time to actually fly together.

To the displeasure of Syrax. Who had grown used to regular flight with her rider. Caraxes complained less, because daemon flew nearly every day with him. Patrolling around Dragonstone. For either the Cannibal, a few villagers had seen him around, or for any ships that were possibly not welcome. Nothing happened. Neither the notorious dragon nor anything else interesting had been sighted for months.

So when their attendants were gone, Daemon had helped Rhaenyra onto Syrax. Now that the Golden lady was so large, his niece had to actually climb up, as did he to settle on Caraxes saddle. He was grateful that his grandparents had never destroyed the old saddles of Balerion and Meraxes. The ones the Conquerors used long before the conquest. Their dragons weren’t as large as their legendary ancestors' dragons had been, not yet. But the saddles were useful nonetheless. After the ritual he had ordered the Dragon keepers to adjust the saddles for Syrax and Caraxes. While they were huge already, he knew they would grow even larger in the moons after the ritual.

Syrax would soon be larger than Silverwing. Thus becoming the fourth large dragon. Caraxes rivalled Vermithor and would soon rival Vhagar. Thus taking his post as the second-largest dragon alive. Since none had actually seen the Cannibal for years, no one knew how large he was. So Daemon took him out of the railing for now. The other wild dragons were large, but they did not hold a candle to his wife’s and his dragon after the successful ritual.

Daemon had rarely seen Rhaenyra so happy. In her youth she was a happy child, but her happiness became less after Baelon Targaryen died. Even more after her mother lost babe after babe. Now she smiled more. Happy to see her Golden lady large and formidable. Free of chains and finally hunting for herself. Happy to be united with him in marriage and happy he had remembered their old meeting place.

If her kiss after they had landed was any indication she was overjoyed with the changes he had ordered to be made. They spent their wedding night there in each other's arms. Though he didn’t let her get much sleep that night. Four months had gone by since their wedding night, and they shared their chambers ever since. But Rhaenyra not once told him why she was suddenly growing irritated with everything or why she was suddenly uncomfortable in her dresses.

“Oh Daemon. I’m alright. I didn’t mean to worry you. I wanted to confirm my suspicion, so I went to Maester Geradys.“, soothingly his wife stroked his check. But he wasn’t soothed in the slightest. “Suspicion?” he asked, alarmed. Had someone poisoned her without him knowing? Had some spy managed to evade him? Had the Hightowers tried something already? He knew they would sooner or later, but he didn’t think them bold enough just yet. Their heir was still a child, a dragonless child at that.

”Calm down husband. I have been experiencing symptoms and wanted Maester Geradys to confirm my thoughts.” He had no idea what she was saying, but he was only growing more concerned. His emotions ran wild enough that Caraxes was getting agitated too. His loud roar indicated his unhappiness.

“Calm yourself Daemon. And by the gods do not let Caraxes set fire to anything. I’m fine. I’m pregnant, not poisoned.”, she hissed, glaring at him now. The Maester had quietly left the two royals alone. “You’re what?!”, he exclaimed. Staring at her dumbfounded. Sighting and smiling at him afterwards she shook her head. “I’m pregnant Daemon. We’re going to have another child.” She informed him so calmly as if the news were something he should expect.

True he had fucked her countless times in the last months, but he thought she was drinking moon tea. He had not wanted to presume anything. If she wanted more children he would gladly provide, but if she wanted Aerion and Baelon to be her only children he would be happy with being their father. They were his blood, no matter if Laenor was their sire.

And he had not dared to ask her about the topic. Not wanting to sound demanding. He knew she had suffered during the twins birth, and he didn’t want to demand something from her, she did not want herself. Rhaenyra’s experiences, his own experiences with childbirth were horrible. Seeing her mother lose a piece of herself every time a child didn’t take a breath or died within months. Or the knowledge that both her grandmothers died in childbirth.

It was undeniably suspicious that many Targaryen women had so much trouble with childbirth while Alicent Hightower was fine. Despite being under the supervision of the same Maesters. His mother died after his little brother's birth, despite being fine after Viserys and his. His aunt Gael was weak after her stillborn sons birth. Rhaenys struggled to conceive and lost children before Laenor and Laena. Aemma only had Rhaenyra that survived into adulthood. How his grandmother had so many healthy children was beyond his comprehension.

Queen Alysanne had born the King many children, true two died young and the others died when they were older, but they lived. The only place Daemon did not really have spies in was the citadel. He had spies within Oldtown, but aside from his uncle Vaegon there was no one he would deem trustful. And Vaegon had turned his back on his family years ago.

Rhaenyra was trying to persuade him to reach out to their uncle and their great aunt Rhaella as well as Saera. But he had refused. Saera was happy in Volantis and would never return. Of that he was sure. He wasn’t even sure if Rhaena was even still alive and Vaegon was an asshole. The one who gave King Jaehaerys the idea of the great council. The council that gave the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms the idea they had any right to meddle in the succession of House Targaryen.

Any right to meddle with his niece’s claim to the throne. Rhaenys had no support. Mainly because the King himself did not support her. Jaehaerys had seen Corlys for the snake he was. A snake that shared Ottos ambition. They both wanted their blood on the throne. Though only Corlys would get to fulfil his dream. Aerions surname was Targaryen not Velaryon. His niece had seen through her father-in-law. Knowing he wanted the realm to know the future crown prince would be a Velaryon. So she had cleverly presented them with Aerion Targaryen and Baelon Velaryon to her father. If Viserys acknowledged them as such, no one would be able to call them anything else.

It was likely the first time Corlys realized that Rhaenyra was not a puppet he could control. Unlike with Rhaenys, whom he had sway over, Rhaenyra he could not control. And Laenor was weak willed. Rhaenyra would have eaten him alive and spat him back out if he even tried to control her. Not that his cousin's son would ever have tried that. He was too happy to live in Rhaenyra’s shadow and in her protection. Living his life with his lover while his niece had the burden to uphold their image.

“You’re pregnant?”, he asked again. Staring into her violet eyes. They looked so similar to Aemma’s and Baelon’s it was sometimes hard to look into them. It had been a surmise for all when his little cousin had been born with eyes similar to his fathers. Baelon had been delighted that Daella’s child bore resemblance to her family. And he had smiled when Rhaenyra bore the same eyes. The eyes her son, his fathers namesake inherited as well.

His wife nodded, confirming he heard right. “With our little dragon?”, he asked. Rhaenyra was growing annoyed with him, which was visible in the twitching of her eyebrow, but nodded again. “You..”, he wanted to ask again, but she interrupted him. “Daemon I swear by the Fourteen if you continue to ask dumb question I’m tossing you out of the window and our child will learn that his fathers stupidity got him killed.”, she snapped. But she gently took his hand and placed it on her flat stomach.

“I have been feeling off for a little over two months now. I am nauseous in the morning, my breasts are hurting and my mood changes quicker than the tides. It was similar during my pregnancy with the twins. So I sought out Maester Geradys to confirm my suspicion. I am with child again. Roughly two and a half moons.”, she explained and he listened quietly.

“Healthy?”, he dared to ask, not taking his hand away from her belly. “As far as Geradys can tell, yes. Our child is healthy. I wanted to wait and tell you when I started to show, but it seems your suspicious nature ruined that surprise.”, she smiled and leaned into him. Instantly he wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead on her shoulder. Her hand played with his hair. The braids their sons had clumsily tried to braid into his hair. He had seen more than one guard and servant stare at him like they saw a ghost when he had not dissolved the braids and instead wore them every time their sons braided them.

Daemon was speechless. Instead of saying anything he kissed his wife and twirled her around in a circle, smiling at her. Rhaenyra laughed with delight and wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss. It took a bit to come down from his high and he set her down.

“Do you want to inform your father?”, he asked, leading her back to her seat. Urging her to sit down. “Not until I’m showing. I will continue my trips to Kingslanding for the council meetings until I start showing, obviously. Then I will remain here, and I would like you to step in for me during the meetings. Father is starting to not always listen to Otto and Alicent. With you there his mind will be occupied and Ottos constant barbs at you will set him on edge. Maybe even drive a wedge between them.” She stroked the back of his hand, looking out of the window.

“Are you sure that would work? I think Viserys sees Otto more as a brother as he sees me.”, Daemon wasn’t convinced that his brother even cared for him still. “I know what you are thinking, husband. Cease that. Father cares for you and seeing Otto disrespect you could wake him up. Just promise me you won’t actively try to antagonize my father or try to kill the greens. Then everything should be fine. Please do it, for me?”, she blinked up at him, looking through her lashes and his expression sorted. Bending down to kiss her forehead he sighed. “For you my heart.”, he answered.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Rhaenyra. And if she asked him to play nice for one meeting a month. Then he would do so. He could always let his anger out on his squires when he was training. Or hacking training dummies. Or during a flight with Caraxes. It certainly would enrage Otto to see him sitting in a seat he could not get Viserys to dismiss him. After all, he would only be there during the duration of Rhaenyra’s absence. And even the green queen was confident enough in her hold over Viserys to try to dismiss Rhaenyra from her seat as heir. The Kings would sooner discard his wife than demote his daughter.

For all the wrongs Viserys did he adored Rhaenyra. The last piece of Aemma that lived. Her memory alone would stay his hand. Like it always did. Though if that wasn’t enough the threat of never seeing his daughter or his grandsons again would also suffice in getting the King in line. Had Jaehaerys been alive such tactics would never have worked. Fortunately for them his grandfather wasn’t alive nor was he King any more. Viserys was nothing compared to Jaehaerys. True he held the peace, but he was a coward. Their grandfather would be ashamed if he saw him now. Their parents would be ashamed as well.

Daemon missed his father especially in moments like this. Happy moments he would have loved to share with him. He had no doubt that if Baelon Targrayen lived Rhaenyra would have remained his favorite grandchild. And that he would have supported her and loved her children. Not that he would have let Viserys marry Rhaenyra to Laenor. His father had also known of Corlys ambition. As much as the Spring prince wanted to honour his brothers wishes and have Rhaenys be the next monarch he saw the danger Corlys and the Velaryons posed.

Though they posed less of a threat now. Corlys was many things, but he would never harm his own grandchild. His heir. Since Laenor was dead, Laena was gone, her only child a bastard and being raised by Dragonstone villagers, Baelon was his only heir. If he did not name one of Vaemond sons as heir. Which he would not do. The Sea Snake had worked too hard to earn his seat and reputation to give it over to his younger brother. But Daemon knew Vaemond would become a problem sooner or later. He had warned Rhaenyra and their former father-in-law had advised them to betroth Baelon to one of Vaemond daughters or granddaughters. Of which he had none yet.

Even Rhaenys had nodded along, though Rhaenyra had refused. His wife refused to force the twins into any arrangements. He suspected she wanted them to have the freedom to choose their spouse. The Greens would try to intervene, but Viserys was not bold enough nor confident enough that he could decide his grandsons lives. Rhaenyra would kill him if he tried. His wife was a dragon and a mother. Viserys knew better than to mess with a mother dragon. So the King would wait for a few years until he even thought about bringing up the topic of betrothals.

”They will be loved like their older brothers. Our child will grow up here, in our ancestral seat and I swear no harm will come to them or you.”, he smiled down at her. “Daemon, I need you to promise me something.”, suddenly she turned serious. Normally he would be survived by her mood changing so quickly. From happy and elated to serious and nervous. But he had an inkling of what was going through her mind. He knew her too well to not suspect.

“Promise me, that if there are any complications…”, she started, stopping to take a deep breath. But before she could continue to speak he kneeled down in front of her. “No. I won’t allow you or our child to die Rhaenyra. Your mother's fate was tragic. I will not be your father. If you wish to have this child we will have to. If you wish for this child to be our last then we will have no more. But do not ask me to prioritize either of you. I cannot lose you. I would choose you within a heartbeat. But I know you little dragon. Your heart would break knowing that the child doesn’t survive so you can. I will not allow you to burden yourself with that guilt. You’re going to survive and so is our child. Do not think otherwise.”, he stopped her from thinking further down that line.

“What would I do without you kepus?”, Rhaenyra sighed, playing with the ring he had gifted her a day after their wedding. “Who knows. You will never be without me again my heart.”, He replied smiling at her. “Avy jorrāelan Daemon. (I love you Daemon.)”, she whispered. “Avy jorrāelan naejot byka zaldrīzes. (I love you too, little dragon.)”