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Chapter Text

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Corlys Velaryon’s eyes were murderous as he grips his breakfast spoon tightly.

The Velaryons - sans the newest addition, Princess Rhaenyra were having a private breakfast the day after their only son Laenor’s wedding in the Red Keep.

Though for all intents and purposes, they have achieved their goals, marrying back into the Royal family of Westeros, everyone knew that Corlys’ ambitions were not even closely satiated.

After years of neglect from their Targaryen kin, his wife Rhaenys, eldest granddaughter of King Jahaerys the peaceful being passed over by a younger but male cousin Viserys, his only daughter Laena, rider of the biggest and oldest dragon around, being passed over for a plain girl from the Reach that brought neither connections nor wealth, not to mention him being the wealthiest man in Westeros but being treated like a tramp - well, Corlys wasn’t even remotely happy that his son got to wed the current heir to the throne.

Said son was now glaring back at his sire, unhappy to be questioned.

“After what happened here yesterday, do you expect me to stay?” He spat. “It was only out of respect to my new wife that I even slept in this forsaken place.”

Corlys could barely contain his rage. Of course he knew what Lonmouth meant to his son, he was Lord of Driftmark and the greatest sea captain alive, he knew everything.

“Your place is here.” He said empathically. “With. Your. Wife.”

Rhaenys, silent up til now decided to intervene. After decades of marriage she knows what the slow, menacing tone meant from the man she married.

She stated slowly, “What your father means is that you have not even been married a full day. What will people say when they find out you’ve gone?”

Laena, though silent was slowly nodding at this while eating her fruit. It didn’t do well to get inbetween her sire and whatever object of his ire was at the moment. She had her own wild ways that he disapproved of as it stands, it won’t do for his attention to shift to her, not now anyway that she was planning something even worse that what her addle brained brother was doing.

No, it was best to keep silent.

Laenor, for his part looked mutinous. As the only son of the SeaSnake, he was used to getting his way. Even his father normally gave way to his whims, though when he was like this, it was untenable.

“I am leaving and that’s final.” Laenor said with conviction as he pushed his chair backwards and stood up.

“Mother, I ask that you take care of my wife in my absence. I don’t know when I shall be back.”

With that, he left without another word, leaving his mother perplexed and his father fuming.

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Unbeknownst to the Velaryons, Laenor’s wife Rhaenyra understood that Laenor had to leave.

Losing one’s love in such a brutal way, in the middle of a celebration that was already challenging to his identity and way of life, was nothing short of devastating.

Anyone in Laenor’s position would have crumbled under the circumstances and none would fault him for it.

But Laenor, a Prince in all but name since he was born, was taught many things by being a scion of a powerful house.

One was to never under estimate an enemy, and knowing it or not, the Green Bitch, her sire and her lapdog have made themselves an enemy to one Laenor Targaryen Velaryon.

Joffrey’s murderer may have gone on unpunished for now but Laenor was also taught something by his sire and the sea - patience.

Being on the open waters for moons on end, with only a handful of people to be with taught one patience, endurance and perseverance.

And Laenor was nothing if not patient.

Oh sure, he got whatever material thing he wanted, but being a man in love with another man in an era where this was vilified to the extreme had taught him to cherish small private moments, to keep a facade of indifference and to always be on guard.

They will never blindside him again.

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The night of the wedding of the heir to the Iron Throne, many would have thought that the couple would either spend it doing other things, and yes a great many thought that Laenor Velaryon would have spent it moping and crying for his lost love.

Many would be wrong.

Up until the wee hours of the morning, the newly weds were closed off in the heir’s rooms, plotting and scheming.

There was time enough to rage and cry, truly, Laenor and Rhaenyra had gone on and on about what they would do to the Queen for her dishonor. Not only to the late Queen Aemma, who she supplanted not even a year after the formers death, but in her harboring the criminal who killed Joffrey, that despicable Criston Cole.

In hushed conversation, Rhaenyra and Laenor laid their plans for the Hand of the King who orchestrated everything.

The court always thought Rhaenyra to be spoiled and vain, and Laenor even more so, but what they did not understand was that the sense of entitlement that the two young people had was a shield. It was a shield to cover their strengths and weaknesses, one that their enemies were sure to exploit.

Born into wealth and power, both knew what it meant for them even at a young age.

Rhaenyra had lost her innocence when she lost her mother, and she lost her will to play nice when her hand maiden - someone who, not many moons ago was tasked to tidying up after her - sought to replace her mother. She further lost all her naiveté when her own Uncle, one she long admired, left her literally and figuratively bare, open to criticism and attack.

No, Otto Hightower would rue the day he planned to match the son of Driftmark to the daughter of Aemma Arryn.

Many would speculate that the Prince Consort leaving was a portent of darkness in the marriage - they would not be wrong.

It was a portent alright, but one of Revenge, as the Prince flies away on his trusty dragon Seasmoke, he did not do so out of grief - he was flying towards the first step of their plan to topple down Towers who thought they could stand up to dragons.

Chapter Text

Queen Alicent Hightower had spent the morning on her knees, praying at the Red Keep’s sept. Asking for guidance.

The past year had not been easy for the green Queen.

At first it has seemed that everything her father had planned was unfolding.

Prince Daemon was once again banished, this time maybe even for good after the debacle on the Street of Silk.

Rhaenyra was shamed, and even though the King also banished her father and was able to stem the rumors, she still had the upper hand.

She had a son, two sons now, with Aemond being born just moons after her unholy step daughter’s wedding.

Yes, the Queen’s life was going to plan. Even though she missed her father’s support in the capital, she did not miss his sermons, nor his hands on her so she was basking in her righteousness.

Yes, the Mother has blessed her with an heir, a spare and a future queen.

And Rhaenyra was married to a sword swallower who would not give her heirs - or so she thought.

It started out small, “gifts” from her new goodson Laenor. Sometimes it was material things, jewelry, tapestries, other times it was… more.

After his weeks long absence right after his marriage to Rhaenyra, Laenor had brought back a retinue of new servants from Essos, including healers and midwives, all for the comfort of his wife he said.

Alicent did not understand why he would not trust the learned maesters of the keep, after all she gave birth to three children without any problems at all.

No, it was their queer blood and their queer customs to blame for any misfortune of the gods forsaken family she had married into.

Wasn’t it a sign from the gods that all Targaryen women seemed to have problems giving birth to normal children?

As it turns out, it wasn’t.

Three moons after his return, Laenor went striding into the council chambers, surrounded by his Velaryon guards, he did not speak, only pointed at Grandmaester Mellos and then looked at his goodfather.

“What is the meaning of this Laenor?” The king queried, though he was not as mad as Otto Hightower would have been if he had been in the chambers. After all, Mellos was a trusted maester of the Hightowers.

“My king, I have discovered a plot. A treasonous plot involving this rat.” Laenor stated.

Everyone in the chambers were startled into silence.

He continued.

“You see my king, Queen Aemma did not die of childbirth, though you were pushed into it. No. The good maester sought to rid the world of dragons and so poisoned the good Queen to lose all her babes. It is only by the grace of the Fourteen Flames of Valyria that my wife survived.”

There was silence for a beat and then chaos erupted as said maester tried to free himself of the hold of the guards.

“Silence!”

“I would get to the bottom of this Ser Laenor, that is a heavy accusation to make. What proof do you have, Ser?” the king asked, not unkindly.

Laenor then produced sheafs of papers and a maid.

“These are unsent letters to an unknown person, in Mellos’ own hand. This maid uncovered them while cleaning his chambers this morning. I have asked my healers to inspect all vials and potions in the maesters room after reading these missives.”

And indeed, the missives were damning, in it Mellos had outlined the plans for the king’s children and Aemma’s death, though unsent due to errors. Why the man chose to keep his drafts, no one knows but everyone in the place knew the maester’s handwriting well.

Soon the healers from Essos came in and brought forth vials upon vials of poison, some for a still birth, some to stop the heart, some to keep a womb from opening during childbirth.

Suffice to say that Mellos and his apprentices were imprisoned and executed without much fanfare.

Viserys was saddened and cloistered himself in his rooms for moons, not even greeting his new born son.

Meanwhile as the Crown Princess’ belly grew, more and more changes were observed.

As it was established that maesters were not to be trusted, the keep was then cleansed of all allies of the former grandmaester, and in their place, Laenor put forth his own people, not that everyone knew they were his, no, he was very careful not be seen rearranging the Red Keep into his liking.

The Princess, in the guise of needing companionship after her only friend left her for her father took in several ladies in waiting and handmaidens - all carefully selected for their connections and strengths.

One such person was Septa Maegelle, a Targaryen Princess given to the faith by King Jaeherys to placate them after Maegor’s rule. She took one look at Aegon and Helaena and said, “Nope, he is not Targaryen”.

What actually happened was that the Septa conversed with the Aegon in High Valyrian, and upon learning that he knew only three words, all of them dragon commands, she washed herself off of the him, deeming him a lost cause.

Helaena she took under her wing and all but forbade her mother to contact the child. No one knew why except for Rhaenyra and Laenor, later Rhaenys and Corlys, but that is for another day.

Suffice to say that almost all in the keep save for a few green minions kept away from the king’s firstborn son after that.

Another person who came was lady Amanda Arryn, Aemma Arryn’s sister and Aunt to the heir.

She kicked up a storm after learning of what the maester did to her dear departed sister. For years, it would be a tale of caution not to anger a falcon as the whole of the Keep had heard her dress down her former brother in law, the king.

After the formidable row of the two former in laws, Amanda left the king’s rooms with express permission to separate the Heir’s household from the Queen.

Alicent had all but stripped Rhaenyra’s allowance down bare since she became Queen and Amanda, in another fit of rage had stormed up to the pregnant Queen and called her “a useless grasping cunt with no manners and even less education.”

She further called her “stupid, arrogant and not even worthy to lick the cow dung off of her dead sister’s shoes.”

Alicent, for her part tried, really tried to gain her footing back but it was no use. Even with Ser Criston by her side, she was outnumbered and out gunned.

She wrote her father and her father sent her Aunt, Lynesse, in hopes to regain her control over the court. Alas, Lynesse was no match for Amanda and Maegelle, not to mention Rhaenyra who had gained back her confidence in the face of her kin.

No, Lynesse Hightower was not up to par to a falcon and two dragons. She left not three weeks after coming to the capital in defeat.

It was said that one of the highlights of Lynesse’s stay was when she tried to curb Rhaenyra’s appetite for sweets when she was a few moons along her pregnancy .

The lady had the audacity to imply that Rhaenyra was going to go fat and that her husband was “already enamored of others form, wouldn’t she want to keep her husband’s interest even after the birth of her child? After all she still needs to produce another child for the Driftmark throne. And gods know if her husband was up to the task.”

In which the Princess answered, “Oh Lady Hightower, how ignorant you are of love. Any man would be happy to bed the heir to the throne, and my husband is not just any man. It is in fact his joy to see me rounded with his child that he could not stay away.”

Of course, a lot of those pious ladies were shocked and appalled by this sentence but the crown Princess was absolutely glowing in her pregnancy that one cannot refute that she was indeed well loved.

The whispers even said that the Hightowers were just jealous as the Queen had borne this latest pregnancy almost completely alone as the King had taken to his chambers after Mellos was executed while the Prince Consort danced attendance to his wife hand and foot, never too far.

One of the ladies even witnessed the Heir to Driftmark carrying his wife after she had only said in passing that the heat of the gardens was not agreeing with her.

No one can refute her statement as just last moon, a glass room was erected in one of the greater gardens of the keep, with inventions from Lys and Tyrosh to keep the heat from coming in but still with the beauty of the gardens plain to see. It was commissioned by Ser Laenor as a testament of his love for his wife. The room was outfitted by the most luxurious fabrics and carpets, a few fainting couches and divans for his wife’s ladies to laze on and even a table with special compartments to keep drinks cool.

Every lady with a heartbeat over ten and six swooned at the attentiveness of the Prince.

It certainly did not help that Prince Daemon and Princess Laena came back after their scandalous elopement, Laena heavy with child and wanting the comforts of home.

Daemon, who before many had called callous and a demon, Maegor reborn even was taken to task by his Aunt Maegelle and was soon seen just like Laenor, enamored and panting like a puppy after his wife.

Yes, Alicent was drowning in Targaryens and even her bid to make her own home comfortable for herself was abandoned as another Targaryen came, this time Archmaester Vaegon Targaryen, who upon hearing of Mellos’ mishaps decided he needed to protect his family and installed himself as grandmaester, to which the king only nodded when he strode into the council chambers.

Vaegon was appalled that the Targaryen heraldry and tapestries were taken down to be replaced by the seven pointed star of the faith. He took no time at all in making sure everything was replaced - even adding to the decor and making sure that no one, not even the Queen was given rights to change the Red Keep.

Vaegon had only to invoke Queen Aemma to the king and it was made law that the Red Keep was a Targaryen house and a Targaryen house it will remain.

Alicent was slowly being driven mad by the changes.

She missed her father, for surely he would not stand for all this travesty. No, the Hightowers were devout, they were allied with the faith for centuries, how can she not have any representation in her own home?

She mistakenly said the same at one fateful family dinner and all Targaryens (and Velaryons) looked at her with contempt.

Prince Daemon was heard to say something about the Queen being “an uncouth Andal with no respect for her husband’s family” and “useless cunt who was only there to bear half breeds”.

Indeed, it was only the impending birth of Rhaenyra’s child that Alicent had looked forward to right now.

With the help of Larys Strong and Criston Cole she was able to seed some whispers of bastardy. After all, everyone still remembered the tear stained cheeks of the groom when his companion died at his wedding.

Though not as many as she would like, truly, not a lot of people, specially ladies paid mind to the rumors in the face of Laenor’s devotion to his wife, but there was still the rumors of his preferences that went around.

Alicent always had a small secret smile when she looked at Rhaenyra’s swollen belly as she was sure she will be vindicated once the child was born.

Soon, she thought, soon the world will know what a slut Rhaenyra is. She slept with her Uncle in the whorehouse did she not? And then she even had the strength to couple with Ser Criston right after? What does that make her? A whore!

Alicent was almost mad with glee as the final days of Rhaenyra’s pregnancy approached.

She was not bothered that her husband finally came out of his hiding hole, just to witness the birth of his first grandchild, no, she was more than content to let the dragons play for now.

She could not wait for the look on her husbands face when Rhaenyra’s child came out looking like her sworn shield, Harwin Strong. In fact, she did not know if something truly were happening between the two, given that almost everywhere the Princess went, her husband was not far behind. But Rhaenyra slept with one sworn shield, what’s stopping her from sleeping with another?

Unknown to her and everyone that one of Laenor’s tasks was to find something, someone in Essos that will help him enjoy his wife’s body. He knew the repercussions if Rhaenyra was to conceive an heir from any other than him. He was not going to let go of his plans for revenge just because he could not couple with any women before.

And Laenor was successful. He found a potion deep in Lys that would act as a lust potion for the closest person near him, whether be it a woman or a man. He was careful to make sure that he only took the potion in Rhaenyra’s room and that he did not leave the rooms until all the effects were gone. (Which usually was after three to five bouts of extremely heavy coupling).

Obviously, the potion worked perfectly, so perfectly in fact that after a moon, he did not need it anymore to crave his wife’s body, much to Rhaenyra’s delight. Oh, he still admired the male form, still longed for Joffrey, but he now also admired ONE female form, that of his wife, and to his and Rhaenyra’s surprise, he was content.

Indeed, the Kingsguard had taken to putting cotton in their ears when they were assigned to the Princess’ chambers at night as the lust potion was truly magnificent in its efficacy.

There was even an incident where they broke the heir’s bed and it was very discretely replaced by Aunt Maegelle and Aunt Amanda while the two were tickled pink at the repercussions of such passion of the two.

And now here they all were, even Alicent had risen from her kneeling at the sept to await Rhaenyra’s child outside of her newly and very lavishly decorated birthing chambers. No one could truly fault them, the child of the heir to the Iron Throne and the Heir to Driftmark was bound to be spoiled rotten if the rich fabrics and delicate but ornate carving around the room was any indication.

Laenor had defied all propriety and decency and went inside the chambers to be with his wife, much to Alicent’s consternation. She truly despised the way these heathens discarded the teachings of the faith. But who can gainsay Laenor when he was the one who brought and paid for everything in the room, including the healers and midwives?

It was not a long wait as the midwives, again going against the faith and maesters’ teachings advised Rhaenyra(and Laena) early on that walking and coupling can hasten and ease the babe’s arrival. Both women enthusiastically followed their advised much to Alicent’s disgust. Coupling was reserved to produce heirs, not for enjoyment!

At long last a cry was heard from within and moments later, Laenor, sweaty and disheveled as if he was the one giving birth opened the doors with the widest smile on his face.

“Well, son,” Corly said impatientlt. “What is it?”

Laenor smiled wider.

“It’s a Velaryon!”

Chapter Text

The moment that Prince Jacaerys Targaryen Velaryon opened his purple eyes, he was the sound of his father’s heartbeat. He was the sun that his mother orbited, and he was the constant source of frustration for both - or rather his grandfathers were. Both of them.

It started when the little prince was born, Princess Rhaenys, Lord Corlys, the king, the queen were all present right after Rhaenyra was made presentable and the little Velaryon prince was wrapped in Red and Sea Blue silks - the colors of both his parents houses.

Many maids whispered that at first the green queen looked almost maniacal in her glee when she entered the rooms, demanding to see the child even ahead of his blood family.

But when the crown Princess lowered the baby’s wrapping and dark skin and pale, silver locks were made visible, the green drew back, almost as if slapped.

No one paid her any heed except for the maids, looking at the visitors with trepidation. After all it wasn’t every day that the most powerful in the kingdom was in their part of the castle.

No one but the maids saw her stunned expression as the little Prince’s eyes were remarked on by everyone. No one but the maids saw her sudden intake of breath as Princess Rhaenys declared that his features reminded her of her own father, the late Prince Aemon. No one but the maids saw Alicent clench her teeth as the booming sound of Corlys’ laughter echoed when the little prince gripped his finger tightly, Lord Corlys proclaiming to all that his first grandchild was perfect and was strong. No one but the maids saw the fire in the queen’s eyes as Viserys, the fool king, had tears in his eyes as he looked at the perfect mixture of his beautiful daughter and her cousin.

No one, except the Prince Consort, whose delight in his son magnified with every fracture in the green bitch’s facade.

In the days that followed the birth of the heir’s heir, the Red Keep was inundated with gifts from all over the kingdom, but none were as magnificent, as lavish and as plentiful as the gifts from his own grandsires. In what was to be called “the war of the grandsires”, it seems both Lord Corlys and King Viserys was determined to outdo each other with their gifts for their shared grandson.

Before Prince Jacaerys was even sitting up on his own, he already had three full rooms in Maegor’s hold fast - such was the abundance that he had been blessed with that his parents were dismayed at the display. Myrmish lace, Valyrian Steel, Pearls from Yi Ti, even some carving from the mountains of Norvos, to gold and silver from Pentos and even Horse hide from Vaes Dothrak, no expense was spared to shower the boy with gifts.

It made his parents frustrated but it made the green queen froth at the mouth at sheer extravagance. The maids of the Keep would report to their families that the Queen more than once threw tantrums in her own rooms each time that it was announced that another priceless treasure was laid down on the moons old prince.

“Do you think we should spare the maids from her grace’s wrath?” Rhaenyra once asked her husband as they watch an eleven moon old Jacaerys toddle around the garden with his nannies.

Laenor, looking like the spoiled, vain Prince that he is only snorted as he folded himself behind his wife on the lounging chair in the glass room of the gardens, Rhaenyra’s Garden House the maids have called it.

“Serves her right for reaching above her station my dear.” He murmured as he nuzzled his wife’s neck from behind, his strong arms wrapping around her. “Let her be as green as her dresses with envy. I am not done with her.”

“But, Laenor…” the Princess tried to give a measure of protest as her husband trailed delicate kisses on her nape, making her shiver.

“Shhh my sweet, you promised to let me have my revenge.”

“Yes.” Rhaenyra said breathlessly. She had been very concerned about her marriage to her cousin, knowing the state of both their hearts. Her, smarting from Daemon’s callousness, him, shattered from his lover’s death.

Rhaenyra never expected to find passion in her partnership with Laenor. She only expected companionship and maybe love, but both were pleasantly surprised at the many many similarities they held, that the love they had for each other, once only as cousins and kin began to form a deeper bond. One borne out of desperation and heartbreak, but was as solid as the Northern Wall nonetheless.

Rhaenyra did not fully understand what her husband was saying, so lost in her thoughts and the flutterings in her stomach was she when she registered the word baby.

“You want another? Truly?” She stilled.

Laenor only chuckled and gently turned her chin to face him.

He looked deeply into her eyes, “Rhaenyra, we may not have wanted this union and indeed it has been a struggle for both of us since the beginning, but do you not feel as I do? Do you not wish to share more with me?”

Looking at the sincerity in those deep SeaBlue eyes, the princess could only melt.

“Oh Laenor, I love you!” She whispered fervently.

She was met with her husband’s lips crashing on her own, and she squealed a bit as said man pulled her up and stood with her in his arms, signaling to the maids and guards to look after their precious heir, as he strove confidently into the keep.

Rhaenyra flushed with embarrassment as everyone looked at the young couple, most smiling knowingly at the direction they were heading.

About time, some said as the little prince’s nameday was coming. It was about time for another heir, this time to Driftmark.

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The Heir to Driftmark came on a thunderous day, the clouds hiding the sun and the booms of thunder echoing in the walls, drowning out the Princess’ screams.

Like a tableau of the first time, all the grandparents were present for the birth of the second child of the heir to the Iron Throne.

Again, no one paid heed as the only brown haired person in the room barely concealed her rage as the child, not even hours old was declared perfect, beautiful and Heir to the grandest seat in the country save the Iron Throne.

No one saw as the queen bloodied her own hands in frustration as another Velaryon came into the world.

No one saw as the despair that creeped into the brown eyes of the queen as she realized that no matter how many whispers she tried to start about the paternity of the boys, no one would listen, for both boys were undoubtedly Velaryons, not only in coloring but in features.

No one saw Alicent bite her lip hard as the cradle egg was placed and the little Pearl of Driftmark cuddled up to its warmth, a portent that surely meant the egg would hatch, just like it did with the
heir’s egg, bringing forth a beautiful greenish bluedragon they named Vermax.

No one but the maids and the Prince Consort saw the green queen drowning in her own venom as the king announced that Lucerys Velaryon would be presented to the people at his brother’s second name day celebration - a grander feast the people would ever know as the SeaSnake began to declare that he would cover all costs - to the rising voice of the king to deny the man.

No, no one saw, but everyone felt the queen’s rage as the second war of the grandsires began.

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In the years that followed, no one would truly blame the king as he distanced himself more and more from his queen.

The queen was mad, the whispers said. Mad with envy, many of them declared.

The queen was truly mad, green with envy as even with the return of Otto Hightower, as a guest to the queen after Prince Aemond’s birth, not as Hand as Lord Llyonel Strong was deeply entrenched in said position - the queen started to fray.

She took to looking more and more severe, the seven pointed star getting bigger and bigger on her chest as the moons pass by, with it her dresses’ necklines got higher and higher.

She would scream at maids and guards and anyone really, when something did not go her way. Even when her father’s hand stayed her, her looks were those of a mad woman.

It grew even madder as Septa Maegelle got dispensation from the king to teach her children more about their Targaryen heritage, all but dragging the king’s children from the Septons of Oldtown that Otto bought.

She grew madder still when Helaena, her precious girl started only speaking in High Valyrian, often murmuring and only Maegelle or Rhaenyra would nod and smile at her. The princess, who people once called simple or weird due to her sudden fits was now well adjusted. Many claimed that the queen did not know how to raise children and it took real Targaryens to bring the child out of her shell.

She grew even more mad when it was announced that Helaena would one day marry the heir’s heir, Jacaerys Velaryon, to which she almost scratched Rhaenyra’s eyes out in front of the king.

It did not endear her to anyone, even her father was heard slapping her for her mistake of going after the heir to the throne during a council meeting to announce the betrothal of Prince Jacaerys to Princess Helaena and Prince Lucerys to Princess Rhaena.

Everyone celebrated the matches, except the greens who could do nothing at the face of the king’s wrath. Alicent was more or less banished from the king’s side from then on. She would not have any other children with the monarch.

She did however, have another child, one with dark hair and almost Dornish in looks, a year after the Crown Princess gave birth to their third child, a Prince named Baelon for both the Spring Prince and Rhaenyra’s dead brother.

(Laenor decided that as much as he wanted to name the Prince after his dead lover, he could not do any damage to Rhaenyra’s position as heir)

He was the only child who has pure Targaryen coloring, but his deep Sea Blue eyes established him as another son of Driftmark.

The third war of grandsires was even worse than the first two as both grandparents wanted the boy with them always. The maids were dizzy as one order contradicted another as both grandsires would require little prince Baelon beside them during feasts, tourneys or whatnot. The king more than once won this debate.

But both the king and the lord were stunned and not a little scared as Lady Jeyne Arryn swept into the Castle and declared to everyone that Baelon Velaryon would be her heir, the future Lord Paramount of the Vale as the closest living kin to the late Queen Aemma Arryn.

The greens tried to gainsay this announcement but all were shut down by the glares of not even only three dragon riders(Laenor, Rhaenyra and Jacaerys). Indeed, with Daemon and Laena and their twins Baela and Rhaena at the capital, Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys, and Maegelle and her new found bonded Silverwing and Vaegon’s bonded Grey Ghost, well, it was a wonder that Otto and Alicent were even standing after they tried to say that a year old child could not be heir to yet another prestigious House.

Even Larys Strong, with all his surreptitious connections could not get a foothold on the gossip mill that was kingslanding. No one knew that Laenor had long ago planted his owns spies and whisperers to make sure to counter any that the green faction would raise.

And if the Lord Larys Strong was then found dead a few moons after the Queen’s birthing of Daeron, the dark haired Prince, well, who was to say it was foul play when the man was known to be a clubfoot?

And what was he doing in the secret tunnels that connected to the Queen’s chambers in the dead of night anyway?

With a dark haired child that looked nothing like a Targaryen, and the death of a Dark haired man not only a few steps from her chambers, whispering grew furious that the queen was cuckolding the king.

Well, if it then came to question whether the first three were truly the kings and not his brothers, well, who was to say?

The green queen was mad they say, the vengeance of the gods slowly but surely they say as the greens hold on the capital loosened to the very thin line.

And when whispers resurfaced that the queen became queen not even six moons after the good Queen Aemma’s death by being cut from sex to chest, and the new queen pregnant and birthed not even seven moons after her wedding, everyone began to speculate at the audacity of the Hightowers and how the queen, taught to be pious and just was really just a little whore in green clothing.

No one knew the Prince Laenor, Prince Consort was the blame for any of their mishaps.

Chapter Text

In the “Years of the Princess” as the years were called, not one was surprised that the Heir gave birth a few more times. Indeed, seeing the love between Driftmark’s Heir and the princess was a song of legend. Many minstrels and poets were moved with their devotion to one another.

The king was happy to play with his many grandchildren, often found in his rooms surrounded by his progeny as he made his model of Old Valyria while telling the children tales of his ancestors. His brother’s children were often with them as the group was inseparable.

With the many many betrothals that followed, it was no wonder. Prince Baelon was quickly engaged to his Arryn cousin, Tilda Royce, to secure the succession of the Vale. Princess Baela, after a very successful campaign in the stepstones not only by her father, the rogue prince, and her mother on Vhagar, but her Uncle on Seasmoke, her Aunt on Syrax, her other Aunt on Dreamfyre, and her cousin on Vermax, was then granted land on the Stepstones as an engagement present to Vaegon’s grandson Haerion.

No one was surprised that the supposed green princess was seen battling above the narrow sea with her betrothed. With Prince Jacaerys’ example of his father and his great Uncle Daemon’s devotion to their wives, it was no one’s wonder that the spoiled heir of the heir was often seen in the gardens on hands and knees looking for bugs to present to his lady.

Hence, the said lady’s support of her bonded was whole, and with her dreams of Jacaerys falling in the gullet to enemy scorpions, she bravely burned as many Triarchy ships as she and Dreamfyre could manage, even at a young age.

And in the aftermath, the Prince declared that his share of the spoils would go to the construction of another glass house in the gardens, this time to house his beloved’s little pets and oddities. No one could blame the overcome little princess as she ran to her love and kissed him in the mouth in front of their whole family.

While Queen Alicent bemoaned her daughter’s lack of decorum and Ser Criston was heard muttering about being a whore just like her sister, they were the only ones to do so.

Princess Aemma, the spitting image of the late good queen was betrothed to Ser Harwin’s heir with the Lannister’s sister. Once more, Maegelle and Vaegon furiously and immaculately wrote down Princess’ Helaena’s visions of the Lannister’s future treachery that the Crown Princess immediately married off her lady in waiting, Lucinda Lannister to her good friend and sworn shield Harwin Strong.

Lord Corlys, finding out that his dear granddaughter was to be the future Lady of Harrenhal, on the spot declared to all that Harrenhal will be rebuilt to its glory as no granddaughter of his would live in a run down castle. Lord Simon Strong, the keep’s castellan and Uncle to Lord Llyonel tried to dissuade the man, but to no avail. The SeaSnake was adamant that all his Heir’s and his Daughter’s children would live in splendor, much to the greens now insurmountable dismay.

With Princess Rhaena to be the future Lady of Driftmark, Princess Baela the Lady of the oft yet build Dragonflame Keep in the stepstones, in was only right that Daemon’s and Laena’s only son Aemon was then given Lordship of the Steptones. As of yet, Daemon was crowned Prince of the islands with his (and his family’s) resounding defeat of the pirates. The Castle on The stepstones, yet to be named was immediately started on construction after the said crowning.

Princess Laena, in another life to be gone so soon was saved by her brother’s machinations and Princess Helaena’s vision. The healers and midwives from Essos made sure that Prince Aemon would not be his mother’s death and worked tirelessly to make sure the prince was in the right position to be born.

Thus, Vhagar was kept with his Velaryon rider, no one eyed prince could ride him against kin. Another life safe thanks to Princess Helaena’s powers.

The greens, more than once disparaging the princess’ mumblings did not know of the power they all but handed to their enemies for Septa Maegelle and Grandmaester Vaegon, well versed in their families histories took no time in identifying the girl as a Dreamer, like Daenys, and faithfully deciphered and transcribed her visions.

It was these visions that led to the death of the greens whisperer, Larys Strong, it was also the reason why Prince Aegon, oft found himself on his arse as the maids were fully equipped by Prince Laenor to fight against the drunken Prince’s advances.

It was also on Helaena’s visions that none of her brothers were given eggs that would hatch. Truly, the dragon that in another world would have burned the true Queen Rhaenyra was bonded to her Uncle’s only son instead.

But one of Helaena’s visions still came true, even if the Targaryens and Velaryon’s tried their damnest to stop it.

On the eve of the celebrations of Princess Baela Targaryen’s engagement to her Velaryon cousin and their gifting of the titles of future Lord and Lady of Dragonflame, Prince Aemond, in his great desire to claim a dragon, stole away from the festivities in dragonstone, and with the veritable army of spies that Prince Leonor has, he had quickly followed the prince.

It was only luck that Prince Lucerys, ever his father’s shadow then also followed and where Lucerys was, Rhaena would be and where Rhaena was, Baela would be there too. It was only Jacaerys, drunk on young love, dancing with his lovely bride to be that did not follow the Consort and the envious prince.

For truly it was envy that spurned the second son of the king to try and claim the wild dragon cannibal, much to Leonor’s dismay.

While Laenor, ever valiant and refusing to be a kinslayer tried to wrestle the great beast Cannibal with his own dragon Seasmoke, when the wild dragon was disturbed by Aemond, the prince Lucerys and two princess tried to keep their stupid uncle from being burned.

The prince, bolstered by the poisonous whispers of his mother and grandsire taught it his right to claim a dragon by himself. He did not heed Septa Maegelle nor Grandmaester Vaegon’s teachings that one must be guided by the dragon’s song in order to bind with it. No, the prince, puffed up by his own self worth often skipped his Valyrian lessons with his brother Aegon, preferring instead to dream of his mighty war dragon rather than learn of dragons from those who bonded late with dragons themselves.

“You bastard, let go of me!” He screamed at his nephew who was trying to hold him before he gets eaten by the rampaging Cannibal, Baela and Rhaena were also trying their best, but Aemond was bigger and stronger than them, he also fought dirty as he was trained by none other than the murderer, Criston Cole.

He snapped his head back on the Velaryon heir, causing said heir to start bleeding from the nose.

Baela, truly her father’s daughter then stood inbetween them, a rock in her hand ready to slay her cousin’s tormentor.

“Standback, you bitch! Side with the bastard, we all know he was sired by Ser Harwin and not Ser Laenor!” The wild eyed prince’s pronouncement made the girl drop the stone, as in this life, none of the younger Targaryens have heard the rumors, they were all brought up proud and secure in their lineage.

For their uncle to claim otherwise was a great insult as Luke looked just like a small Queen Aemma but with Corlys’ deep dark coloring.

In the surprise of the moment, Aemond pushed Baela down on the rocky cliffs of the dragonmount causing her to bleed in several places. It was this that enraged Prince Lucerys and caused the prince to get the otherwise ceremonial dagger at his waist, it was there for decoration as they were all gifted beautifully crafted Valyrian steel daggers by their Uncle Daemon after his victory in the stepstones.

Luke jumped on his Uncle’s back to try and keep him from the Cannibal, who Seasmoke was bravely fighting back into the caves, but Prince Aemond, trying to get away elbowed his nephew, causing Luke to tighten his grip on the dagger, it was then that the prince tried to disengage himself, violently trashing against the boy on his back that Helaena’s prediction came true.

In the rage of his violence, Prince Aemond swung his head around, only to meet his nephew’s dagger that he was holding tightly against his neck, pointy end downwards, in his haste to be free and in Luke’s determination to hold him, the dagger then swiped up of Aemond’s face dragging from his cheek to his eye where it stopped as Luke fell down, but the dagger then lodged itself on the eyeball.

The Cannibal, more than subdued by Seasmokes flames slowly went back into his cave and it was then that Laenor finally realized that his son had followed him.

It was Luke’s cry of alarm rather than Aemond’s wails that sent shivers down Laenor’s back as he ran down from Seasmoke to push with all his might to reach his boy.

—————————————-

In the chaos that followed, the merry goers of the celebrations gathered in the throne room of Dragonstone. The events were eerily similar to her vision so Helaena stayed in Jace’s embrace as the mothers of the two boys battled it out in front of everyone.

“Aegon!” The king thundered, asking where rumors of Rhaenyra’s children’s illegitimacy came from. The king, not being poisoned this time thanks to Helaena’s visions and the healers that Leonor placed to tend to him was strong and imposing in his anger.

Aegon, still smarting from his mother’s slap could not say anything, what was he to say? That they looked nothing like Velaryons? Even Vaemond, the ever greedy was to claim kinship to the boys and girls, specially to Aenar who was like a double of his and Corlys’ father. Damned Aemond for pointing at him as the source of the rumors. Everyone except the willfully blind king knew it was the work of the queen and her father.

The king thundered some more and the greens knew they were done this time. Well, most of the greens, the Queen was beside herself that her favorite child was maimed, nevermind that the Essosi healers wanted to help the boy and claimed they could restore his eye and partially his eyesight. The queen did not trust them and only wailed when her trusted maester from oldtown claimed the eye was lost. Really, even Otto was despairing of his daughter’s stupidity.

The queen in her rage took the Valyrian Steel dagger at the king’s side and rampaged to Lucerys, but she was met with a veritable wall of protectors, though it was the princess who held her grip tightly and told her that everyone knew, everyone could see what she is.

“Where was duty, where was sacrifice” the queen screamed.

But she only got a laugh out of everyone, because really, what was she talking about? In the decade that she held a place in the king’s council the princess had meticulously revived King’s landing, no more were the dirty streets as leagues of Essosi architects and builders came to create structures that benefitted the people.

The princess and her consort worked tirelessly to establish alms houses, proper drainage, healing houses and more. So what duty and sacrifice was she claiming when it was the Princess’ children and not hers that were often seen playing with the children of the realm, not caring that their expensive clothes were torn as they helped their playmates with the chores, the two eldest princes were even seen guiding and even carrying the infirm and the old to where they could get help. Everyone in the room mocked the queen for her own sense of righteousness, what did she think that spending hours kneeling would feed the hungry of Flea Bottom when it was her own daughter who was seen many times helping feed the people?

The queen raged at the laughter and moved once more, this time overpowering the princess in her rage and causing Rhaenyra’s arm to be split by the dagger.

It was the king’s roar of fury that started the chaos for his only child, his Aemma’s girl was hurt.

Daemon laughed as he cut down the meager green soldiers that tried to get to the queen at the urging of Otto Hightower.

Rhaenys, Laena and Lucinda ushered the children out of harms way, but not before Rhaenys had the chance to knee Otto Hightower in the groin as he tried to stop them. Hah. The Queen that Never was, was a sight to behold as she rained heaps of insult to the “grasping, sniveling cunt of a Tower”.

It was to his delight that Laenor, after spending years and years in the practice yard often imaging the face of Criston Cole as he hacked at the training dummies, found himself squaring at his lover’s murderer as the knight tried to get to his queen. Laenor took sheer joy into pummeling the man to death, truly, no one noticed that he was still pummeling even after the man under him stopped moving, as in the center the king himself had taken up Blackfyre and was slashing at his daughter’s tormentors.

It was a sight to behold the king, many called weak and spineless, wielding the imposing Valyrian Steel Sword of his ancestors to avenge his child.

The incident at Dragonstone cemented the rule of dragons, for if the weakest and most lazy of them could wield a sword of infamy to defend his loved one, what else could the rest of them do?

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of what was to be known as the Dragon’s Fury, Princess Rhaenyra decided to stay with her family on Dragonstone.

Even with the dismayed king’s pleas the princess would not budge. The princess asked that her son’s tormentor be banished, only then will she come back to the Red Keep, but Viserys being Viserys saw no cause to banish his son.

Though to the delight of all, King Viserys did issue a decree setting aside his second wife and therefore taking away all his children with her from the line of succession.

He thought it would be enough to make Rhaenyra see reason but his soft heartenedness towards his now ex-wife proved to the princess that the king was still at his core, a weakling.

He allowed Alicent to stay, for the sake of the children she said. But what children exactly? Everyone wondered why the king did not see the manipulation for what it was, for the ex-Queen had already sent her youngest to Oldtown, to keep him out of people’s minds as the only Targaryen who did not look Targaryen.

Truly, was the king blind that he did not see that his supposed last child did not look like him? The child was even burnt when an egg was placed in its cradle. That incident was kept hushed by Otto of course, but Laenor was not without spies and the tale was spread anyway.

The Queen did not even have a babe to care for as her oldest was now a man grown, and a rapist to boot. Maybe she stayed so she could keep paying off the whores and unfortunately too young maids that the ex-prince accosted.

Maybe she stayed for her bitter second son who, in want of a dragon decided to be a dragon himself, terrorizing everyone in the keep, almost bludgeoning to death several squires that were tasked to spar with him in the training ground.

Whereas Daemon was previously called by the then Hand, Otto as Maegor reborn, it was the people of Kings Landing now who called the one eyed ex-prince the same.

Back in Dragonstone, everyone was at peace, though Laenor, far from satiated from having pummeled Criston Cole to death did not ease up on the spying in the Red Keep.

He had his network of spies and sergeants who made sure that no one forgot that the reason for the city’s new found prosperity was the Princess Rhaenyra herself. Not that any of them could forget in the place of the “Lords” that were left to them.

No, while the Black’s lives were as close to perfect as possible in their little island, they often get reports of another woman raped or another youngling almost bludgeoned to death.

“I will not be a kinslayer and neither will you.” The princess said to her husband when the former raised the question of neutralizing the threat.

And that was that, Laenor was a slave to his darling wife’s whims and so for moons he tried his best to have as many of his own guards pull the two ex-princes away from their targets. He wanted to banish them from the kingdom but the king was adamant in his refusal to be parted from anymore children.

Again, a blind Viserys, replied to Laenor’s missives with “You already took my darling girl from me, would you take away the sons of an old man.”

It was then that Laenor realized that his goodfather did not know the extent of his sons depravities.

The family grew closer to the only other Valyrian descendants in Westeros, the Celtigars and within a year it was decided that princess Jocelyn, who looked so much like her namesake would marry the heir’s heir Artimos when they both came of age. Thus cementing the alliance of the Valyrians.

No one could be happier than Corlys of course, both of his granddaughter through Laenor would be future ladies of distinguished houses.

House Celtigar, often overlooked and passed over were also overjoyed. It would be in the following years that they would admit that their family held the secret to making Valyrian Steel, thus ensuring that if ever a war came, the Blacks were more than well equipped.

It was past three years since the incident with Aemond’s eye that a missive from the maester came for Princess Helaena (who did not lose her status being betrothed to the heir’s heir and staying with her sister’s family on Dragonstone) to come back as the king laid dying.

It was suspicious to say the least as Rhaenyra as heir of the king did not receive such summons. They knew it was a likely trap but the princess would not let her sister and future good daughter go to the capital alone.

It was while they were preparing to leave that a note from Laenor’s spy in the kitchen noted that they suspected that the king was poisoned as Alicent had again weaved her whims on the king and in the later moons was the only one to take tea with the king while he fiddled with his model.

Rhaenyra, for all she hated her father’s weakness could not help but crumble at the words. Her guilt was insurmountable, thus spurned her even more to get to her father.

Princess Rhaenys, a frequent visitor to Dragonstone, together with Daemon and Laena, urged her to take as many guards as she could or even one of them for insurance.

Rhaenyra laughed at the suggestion, claiming that the greens had not even one dragon while she and her sister flew on dragons that have been to war.

It was then decided that Ser Harwin and a retinue if guards would go with them, the former riding on dragons back with Princess Helaena as she had the bigger dragon.

It was with shaky knees that Ser Harwin got down unto the ground at Kings Landing, only to be accosted by several Hightower guards. He was at a disadvantage until it only took one “Dracarys” from Princess Helaena for most of the guards to burn. Otto would later lament this as a regrettable accident.

As they made their way to the Red Keep, they were happy to note that the people did not forget them, cheers and greetings were there to welcome them, making Otto Hightower’s already sour face even more puckered when the Crown Princess herself got down.

They had anticipated that Helaena would not be made to go alone, but what they did not anticipate was the Heir coming with her sister.

It goes to show how little the greens thought of family for why would they be surprised that a beloved daughter would want to see her ailing sire?

The greens were for sure stupid, or maybe they were just that desperate.

They did not think that Helaena would share the missive with her sister, indeed the family she had loved and who had loved and sheltered her. They did not think that the pale, simpering girl had a backbone.

Well, they were wrong.

It was only a few days time before they figured out just how wrong they were.

For now the Princesses, together with their own healers went straight to the king, not even bothered with Alicent’s breathy “Daughter” as she tried to reach for Helaena and Helaena only squared her shoulders and walked side by side with her sister.

They found the king laid on his bed, sores visible all over his body. His once strong facade of defending his daughter all but gone.

Princess Rhaenyra wept and Helaena stood, telling her sister to get her healers in.

Day and night, the healers worked their magic on the king, Rhaenyra or Helaena taking turns settling down on the settee beside him, their retinue of guards sweeping the Palace and making sure none got in the way of their princesses.

Otto, Alicent or even Aemond, never Aegon tried to get to Helaena, tried to talk to her but the princess would not budge away from her father’s side.

It is on one of these nights that Helaena had a vision, the greens plots unfurling before her in clarity, as she was taught by Septa Maegelle not to fight the images but instead to go with it, see where it would take her.

It was this love and care from her family that made Helaena what she was today. She was no longer the meek and biddable girl her mother and grandsire knew. She grew up on love and understanding, and not at her mother’s palms to her cheek nor her grandsire’s.

Rhaenyra, by now used to her sister’s visions, only calmly asks “What did you see?” When Helaena finally opened her eyes.

“A way to waken father.” Was all she said.

——————————————

Many taught princess Helaena to be weak, even weird or simple as she did not interact much with the nobles, preferring her little bugs in the glass room that Jacaerys had made for her.

She would rather listen to the plights of the common folk than simper and gossip in the keep.

It was truly a secret to everyone that Helaena was not only smart and keen, she was also ruthless and cunning.

Many also thought, on the urging of Otto of course that she was a girl trapped in her older sister’s deceit and had had no choice but to follow them into the war of the stepstones, that she did not fight but was instead a prisoner kept away from her loving and devoted mother.

Many were terribly, terribly wrong.

Daemon took all the glory of the step stones but it was with Helaena’s visions and her fear for her Jacaerys’ life that truly won the day.

No one save their family would know that it was Dreamfyre, not Caraxes or even Vhagar that rained fire unrelentingly to their enemies in the war.

So it was no wonder that when Helaena put her mind to it, she got what she wanted.

If people dared to take a closer look, they would be less surprised as the girl was not only raised by Rhaenyra and Laenor, she was raised by a village of Targaryens that had one goal in mind, protect the family, further their ways.

Targaryens were Valyrians and as such did not adhere to mere mortals rules. The girls, Helaena, Baela, Rhaena, even Aemma and Jocelyn were all proficient in their preferred weapons.

Daemon had drilled into them since they were young that though they had dragons in the air, their dragons would not always be there to protect them.

Daemon single handedly made sure that the next generation was equipped to take care of themselves, he even went as far as getting masters of water dancing from Braavos, spears masters from Dorne and martial artists from Yi Ti to provide tutoring and guidance to their heirs.

Helaena smiled to herself as she walked alone in the corridors of the keep.

Against her sister’s wishes, she went on a walk for old times sake, reminiscing her younger years. With her wedding to Jacaerys fast approaching, her sister could not complain.

That she did not take any guards with her was unknown to said sister. She would get a good sermon about it later.

Just like in her vision, her older brother Aegon had cornered her, drunk and swerving, he made lewd comments on her looks, for surely her martial tutors were hard task masters, her once pudgy frame was now still curvy, but in all the right places, with secret muscles that were hidden underneath her blue skirts, as she had taken to wearing blue for her dragon, blue for the family who took her in and loved her.

Helaena let herself be taken by her brother to her grandsire while he was trying (and failing) to paw at her with his drunken hands.

Otto stood in the once queen’s chambers, ever the sight of an imposing politician. Helaena pretended to cower, pretended to be the same girl who was afraid of her own shadow.

Aegon drunkenly listed on a chair while Otto started his usual long winded speech about duty and sacrifice, he outlined his plans in perfect detail, how Aegon would be King and her, his queen.

Helaena did her best not to shiver. She had of course already heard this speech in her vision, but to hear it outloud. It will not be so.

She vowed to herself as she looked at her drooling brother, passed out with too much drink.

She must have taken too long to answer for at that moment a slap to her face care of Otto was felt and she felt the fires of Dreamfyre answer.

With quick precision, she unsheathed her double sais from her embroidered waistband, truly people were blind. No one would guess that the intricately sewn padded center of her dress (that prevented Aegon from pawing her) also housed her preferred weapons.

The sais were a weapon of Yi Ti, after moons of not finding a weapon that suits her, her martial tutor asked her to try his. It was a match made in heaven and Leonor, ever the spoiler did not waste time to have her own made, to his lavish tastes of course.

Now Otto’s eyes widened as one of the sharp points of the sais was pointed at his throat. It would take very little pressure from Helaena to make sure it lodged there.

“The next time you lay hands on me would be the last time you had hands.” She seethed, her usually childish and breathy voice filled with venom that Otto actually staggered back, waking up Aegon in the ruckus.

“Helaena! What are you doing?”

Aegon tried to get to his sister, trying to pry the weapons from, or at least that’s what the princess thought he was doing, but he was drunk, slow and sluggish that with a swish of her dress, Helaena deftly swung around with her other blade, arching down to the hand meant to grab her, while the other was still at Otto’s throat.

Aegon’s hand was immediately severed as Helaena’s blade swung down and his howl of pain was drowned out with Helaena’s loud shout of “NOW!”

Armed guards in gold and blue Velaryon colors came in and in no time subdued both men who were at the tips of her daggers.

Helaena did not lower her arms until they were both tied.

Suddenly a panel from behind a tapestry opened and in came the king with his heir, still weak, balancing with a cane but alert.

Helaena smiled with watery eyes as she saw her father.

“Well done, sister.” Was all Rhaenyra said.

Otto, for his part was speechless. Where was the simpering, malleable girl he was expecting. Even above Aegon’s unearthly cries of pain, Otto’s mind swirled and swirled. Where did he go wrong?

How can all of his plans be thwarted by a slip of a girl?

He looked at Rhaenyra with contempt.

It was the whore’s fault.

She took his sweet innocent (read - stupid) granddaughter and made her into…. this.

Otto Hightower had had no doubt that the Rogue Prince, the bane of his existence was also behind his granddaughter growing a back bone.

Helaena could almost read his thoughts as her father ordered her grandfather’s execution for treason and his son’s banishment to the wall for attempted rape.

He and Rhaenyra were behind the false door the entire time and he saw with his own eyes his son pawing desperately at his sister and Otto looking on as if naught was wrong.

Viserys, probably overcome with shock at the lengths his once Hand and former friend would go to put his blood on the iron throne, suddenly collapsed, but both his devoted daughters were there to catch him.

Chapter Text

Daemon Targaryen was many things, the Rogue Prince, Lord Flea Bottom, a husband, a father, a brother to a weak man, but now he was something he wasn’t entirely sure of - a goodfather.

In less than a year his daughters would marry. While his wife Laena and his niece Rhaenyra were busy with wedding preparations, he was suspiciously quiet.

It’s not that he was unsure of the young men his daughters would marry, no, specially Lucerys who was as good as his own son.

After his very difficult (for him) apologies to Rhaenyra, at the insistence of his wife, he threw himself into the role of the family’s unofficial protector. Not that Laenor was not up to the task, the man was infuriatingly clever, one can never know until he has struck. But Daemon was devoid of purpose.

When before he sought his brother’s love and approval, gaining unequivocal love and support from his wife and their extended family closed any and all holes within him that led to him acting like a spoiled teenager when it comes to his brother.

When before, he was determined for his brother to see him, now he could not care less.

No, Daemon Targaryen, Rogue Prince, rider of the mighty wyrm, Caraxes was always what he was, a protector.

He protected and stood up for his brother, even when said brother only saw it as him throwing a tantrum.

The only person he had truly let down was Rhaenyra, and so he vowed to himself that he would always be there to protect her children, or at the very least entrust that they could protect themselves.

Daemon had laughed himself hoarse when he found out that it was sweet, timid Helaena that was the orchestrator of the cunt Otto Hightower’s downfall.

Much to the annoyance of well, everyone, he had Helaena, Harwin and Rhaenyra repeat the story over and over on how frightened the cunttower was of his little girl.

And they were all his. No matter who birthed them, all the children on Dragonstone and Driftmark were his. His to protect and his to love.

Which brought his musings back to Lucerys.

Sweet little Lucerys was to marry his Rhaena in less than a year. He knew he ought to have “the talk” with the boy as he did Jace before his wedding to Helaena a year ago, but unlike Jace, Lucerys had the infernally innocent look of his cousin Aemma.

Which made him feel dirty and creepy speaking to him of the marriage bed. (And yes, he knew how hypocritical the feeling was after what he had done to the boy’s mother only a decade or so ago - but he can’t help it, he felt what he felt).

He decided that it can wait another day, he didn’t have to speak to Luke so soon, he needed to be present for now as was decided early on that after Luke’s marriage, the rest of the little princelings and princesslings were to go to their particular ways.

First and foremost, he and his son Aemon and his wife Laena will be moving to the step stones, Ember’s Way keep was finally finished and he would need to teach the boy how to run things. No talk of betrothals as of yet, he was waiting for his son to have a Valyrian bride like him.

After Baela and Rhaena’s joint weddings, the little Velaryons would go to Driftmark to learn how to lead from Corlys, not that the SeaSnake hadn’t been imparting lessons from the time Lucerys could sit on his lap, but it was to prepare for the future.

Likewise, Baela and Haerion would go to Dragonflame to take over the castle and rule as its Lord and Lady, only answering to their liege Lord, him.

Baelon, Rhaenyra and Laenor’s third son would also leave - going to the Vale to get closer to his betrothed and learn to rule from his Aunt Jeyne.

Aemma and Tommen Strong, though younger, would also go to be with Lord Llyonel to the now extravagantly elegant Harrenhal to learn to rule.

Rhaenys would be flying to and from the Red Keep and Driftmark as after the whole Otto debacle, Viserys, prompted by Rhaenyra declared that when Lord Llyonel was ready to retire, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon would then take over as Hand. Everyone sighed in relief at this news.

Helaena, ever seeing Helaena was happy that her vision of a burning Harrenhal with Ser Harwin and Lord Llyonel would never come to be, thanks to Laenor’s foresight to get rid of the cripple early on.

Jocelyn, Rhaenyra’s youngest daughter would be fostered in Claw Isle as well, getting to know Artimos and learning how to be the island’s Lady.

Which left Rhaenyra with only Aenar and Vaeron - still unbetrothed, but Vaeron has been talking of wanting to be like his namesake, Grandmaester Vaegon. No one contradicted him, but no one really encouraged him either.

Of course there was Jacaerys and Helaena, who were expecting their first child - children if the mother to be was to be believed, and they all did believe her.

Were they even ready for this? The transition from mother and father to grandmother and father??

The Rogue Prince had many regrets, one of them was all the time they had all spent going to their silent war with the greens instead of just loving and growing their children.

The Rogue Prince, alone striding along the corridors of the Red Keep could only silently weep, cursing the day Viserys let the snake Otto Hightower into their lives.

Even now, the green queen lives, as Viserys, as always was blind to her faults.

Seeing as she was not there when Otto and Aegon were apprehended, the king in his infinite wisdom decided that she had nothing to do with the usurpation plot against him and Rhaenyra.

Daemon sighed. Sometimes he truly wished to throttle his brother for his blindness.

Rudely, Daemon wondered how golden of a cunt the Hightower Whore (a nickname that Laenor’s spies had started and was carried by almost everyone in the kingdom) had for his brother to be this cunt struck after all these years and all the revelations.

He could only shake his head as the green queen was allowed not only to live but to live still in the Red Keep - to “guide” presumably her only son left.

Daemon snorted, as if there was anything to change the monster of the keep, as he was not so affectionately called by people of kingslanding.

He would have to have a closer look at the monster masquerading as kin, he would not let his evil touch any of his family, though based on the whispers he had heard said one eyed former prince was very wary of his sister Helaena.

Laenor had reported to the family before their move back to the Red Keep that Aemong, the one eyed monster had taken to calling his own sister “a witch”, which honestly no one was surprised as he had long called Rhaenyra, his other sister a whore and her children bastards.

Still, it would not do to let their guard down again, like when they left an albeit very small opening for the greens to poison Viserys.

The king never fully recovered, he then appointed Rhaenyra Princess Regent and was content to go back to entertaining his younger grandchildren to with his model Valyria.

Truly, Daemon envied his brother’s nonchalance sometimes.

But then, with his nonchalance, it gave way for Rhaenyra to appoint him as the first ever Dragon Blade - Protector of the Realm.

It was a position he relished, crushing rebellions even before they started, delivering the Regent’s justice to her enemies with his dragon and his sword.

It was what he was always meant to be, a protector, a shield against their family’s enemies

It was only truly too bad that the biggest of those enemies sleep in the same Keep as they all do.

Chapter Text

Laenor Velaryon, Prince Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, richest heir in all of Westeros was at a quandary.

He had promised his wife he would not be a kinslayer so murdering Aemond in the middle of the night was out of the options.

Does that mean he can murder Alicent though?

He wasn’t even remotely related to the queen bitch, though she really wasn’t queen anymore.

He needed those two out of their lives and the king refuses to send them away. His first grandchild/children was coming in less than three moons and he would be damned if he let those innocent souls be sucked into the Game of Thrones that they had been playing for decades.

He had schemed, gambled, weedled, killed and played this game for so long he was getting tired of it and yet two of his greatest foes were still standing.

For someone used to getting his way in all matters, it was truly devastating.

Although Otto Hightower was now out of the board, executed by dragon fire when the king found out about his grasping ambitions and treasonous actions, Laenor was still riddled with angst and energy to burn down even the Oldest of towns.

But Viserys was blind, so blind that one treacherous snake was still alive and able to manipulate her deranged son into taking what Laenor has worked on for almost all his life.

It started out as petty revenge, but soon it evolved into something deeper, something he was actually scared of losing.

He and Rhaenyra, against all odds have built a family, a legacy and he will be damned if he let one green bitch and her mongrel son hurt even a single hair on the heads of those he loved.

He was startled to realize that the number of people he cared for was that high. Aunt Amanda would have rapped his skull for being obtuse. “Of course you love them all, more than half of them came from your loins you greedy boy!”

He missed the old biddy already, but she had gone back to the Vale after years of serving as their family’s unofficial mother. Now she terrorizes the poor sheep and his son Baelon, heir to the Eerie.

He sighed, sitting up on the huge feather mattress he shared with his wife.

He looked back at her sleeping form and let out a breath. Who knew that when he agreed to his father’s insane plan to betroth him to the Heir of the Iron Throne that he would actually find peace, love, comfort and family?

Surely not him as he only agreed since it would take those damned Septons and Septas who whisper about his gender behind his back.

He could not sleep and so using Maegor’s tunnels, he decided to walk around without disturbing everyone’s peace. He did this from time to time whenever they lived in the capital, checking in through secret windows to see his children sleeping.

Sometimes he also checked on the greens, just to make sure they weren’t scheming behind his back, his loyal spies none the wiser.

He did not know what brought him outside of the former queen’s chambers but he stood there, looking into the dimly lit room, searching for a sign, any sign that would help ease his troubled mind.

What he found was even greater than he imagined.

There, in the middle of the room sat Alicent, hair unbound, in her chemise for sleep, just staring at nothing. He stood there for what seemed a very long time, waiting for something, anything to reveal what the hell Lady Alicent Hightower was doing in the middle of the night, in the middle of her room, disheveled and looking more withdrawn than he ever thought possible.

He was about to turn away when he heard the faintest whisper, “I’m sorry Father.”

Laenor froze and again the former queen called out to her dead sire, asking for forgiveness.

Deciding to have a little fun, he cleared his throat and in an almost perfect imitation of the former Hand to the King, he let his voice drop to the lowest decibel and whispered, “What exactly are you sorry for, you stupid girl?”

He had heard enough of Otto Hightower’s posturing to inflect just the right amount of scorn in his tone.

Instead of being frightened, or indeed thinking anything was amiss, the Lady Alicent began blubbering like a child being scolded for eating her sweets before dinner.

“I’m sorry I was a failure, I’m sorry I did not groom Aegon to be the Heir you wanted, I’m sorry I lost control of Helaena…”

And on and on did the green bitch listed all of her failures to her “father”, Laenor was all at once stunned and angry at the multiple plots and schemes that the bitch spouted.

He knew most of them from his spies and Helaena’s visions but some of them made his stomach churn, such as her apology to not have fostered enough good will with Rhaenyra so she would be close enough to poison their children in the nursery before they even grew up and became “threats to her Aegon”.

Laenors mind raced as his heart thundered. This was it. This was the way to get rid of the remaining Hightowers once and for all.

And so, with shaking hands, he started, “Well, then” he stated in Otto’s very fake affectionate tone, “We shall have to just try harder shouldn’t we?”

————————————-

It took some time, weeks maybe for him to finally get the green bitch to crack, not that the servants haven’t reported very strange behavior to the king and his heir.

Lady Alicent was often seen standing alone in the godswood as if arguing with someone when there was no one near her.

She began to hate the color green, at times even hurling her green dresses at her maids when they dressed her in the morning.

She was sickeningly sweet to everyone, specially Helaena who she often times called Rhaenyra instead.

She refused to see Aemond, even when her child sought her out, claiming him to be a demon.

Indeed, it was one such family dinner, only weeks away from Helaena’s due date that she finally broke.

Everyone was enjoying the feast, the children dancing, laughing, even Aemond of all people held a smirk as a very pregnant Helaena danced around her husband.

And then Alicent just screamed, out of nowhere, screaming at the top of her lungs, “STOOOOOOP!”

Everyone turned to her, Laenor and Daemon instantly on alert. Daemon had once chanced upon one of his midnight wanderings and he told the prince of what he was doing.

Daemon even added some “insights” to drive the former queen to madness.

And it seemed it worked.

Alicent was looking at everyone without truly seeing them, her eyes wild as she looked at everyone without truly knowing a face on the table.

And then she laughed. A loud, deeply manic laugh that had Rhaenyra edging the younger ones and Helaena slowly away from the mad lady.

“You think you’re so good, so pious, the realm’s delight! Well no more, Rhaenyra, no more!” She screamed as she got up.

Rhaenyra was frozen, but ice poured down her veins when she saw that it was Helaena that Alicent was talking to, Jace, ever the fierce protector stepped infront of his wife and his mother, ready to defend them from the madness that was Lady Alicent Hightower.

Meanwhile, Daemon and Laenor edged towards where Aemond had also stood up, ready for anything.

No one moved as the mad former queen started spewing more venom. She taught Jace to be Aegon of all people and was ordering him to “move away from the whore who slept with all the kingsguard”.

Jace could only shake his head as he stood firmly in front of the women he loved.

Alicent, running around taunting everyone and clearly calling everyone by the wrong name. She taught Lucerys was Aemond and Lucinda was Helaena, cooing at her pretty daughter when suddenly she jumped up on the table where the roast pig was on and squatting on the table, took the serving fork from the pig and started waving it around.

The two pronged fork was sharp, and it’s tines glinted in the moonlight.

Aemond rushed to where his mother was and to the horror of everyone, most of all the king, Alicent launched herself onto her son and cried “Die, Bastard, die!!!” As she stabbed her own son with the fork over and over until the men were woken from their shock by Aemond’s muttered plea of “mother!”.

Several guards and the Targaryen and Velaryon men pried the deranged woman from her son, as she laughed and laughed at the gruesome sight that was her son, stabbed multiple times all over his neck and chest.

Some of the women and children were screaming and King Viserys was stuck on his chair, tears falling down his face as he looked on at his dying son.

Rhaenyra ushered the children away, while Helaena fell on her knees and cradled her brother as if he were a babe.

Helaena was crying but her voice was soft as she rocked Aemond, telling him “It’s alright brother, they won’t hurt you anymore, she won’t hurt you”

Gasping and choking on his own blood, the butcher prince, the monster of the keep’s last words were “Helaena…”

————————————-

It took a fortnight to arrange everything to their satisfaction. Alicent was shipped off to Oldtown, the king wanting nothing to do with his deranged ex wife. Aemond, though not a dragon rider, was given a dragon’s death as he was still the son of the king.

It was a sunny afternoon and Laenor was lounging in their rooms with his wife, talking about their soon to be grandchildren, reminiscing when the babes were younger.

Rhaenyra giggled when Laenor tickled her and she tried getting the upper hand by straddling him, but instead she found a bulge in his pants which made her wiggle against it.

“Stop, you wench!” Laenor laughed. “We’re not as young as we once were!”

Rhaenyra just scoffed and started taking off her clothes, “Speak for yourself, husband.” She breathed as she began earnest grinding against her husband’s crotch.

Laenor, his eyes darkening, only grabbed her waist and ground her even harder to him.

Their breaths began to fasten and Laenor lowered the straps of her shift, eager to get his mouth on her straining nipples.

Rhaenyra grasped her husband’s collar as he began slowly, maddeningly teasing her full breasts.

Rhaenyra had grown to be a voluptuous woman, contrary to what her very few detractors were saying about her being fat.

Laenor reveled at his wife’s heavy mounds as one of his hand inched up to cup the breast he wasn’t currently sucking on.

Rhaenyra, getting impatient, and with great difficulty due to her position on top of him, frantically opened the flaps of her husband’s pants and greedily stroked his rigid pole.

The two were lost in their pleasures of their coupling that neither heard the door to their chambers squeak open.

It was only when they heard a loud “What in the name of the fourteen are you two doing?!” that they came down from their high and opened their eyes to see their eldest son and heir standing gaping at them from the doorway.

Rhaenyra hurriedly used one hand to put the straps of her chemise in place to cover her wet nipples.

Not that it was anything new, in the two decades of their marriage almost everyone of their family had at one point or another walked in on them in various states of undress and several compromising positions.

Rhaenyra did not know that her hand was still on Laenor’s shaft as Jace began sputtering and shouting.

“Why? Why do you do this? Was it not enough that I was only eight when I first saw you two? Is this the kind of grandparents my children will be subjected to? Are my siblings aware of just how utterly depraved you two are? Coupling all over the Keep, in Dragonstone, on the beach, in the stables, by Arrax’s glossy tits, have you two no shame at all?”

Rhaenyra could barely keep herself from laughing that she squeezed Laenor’s manhood too tight, causing the man to yelp in pain.

Jacaerys’ eyes widened at the sight previously shielded from him as his father sought to get his mother from his lap.

“Are you…” he sputtered. “Is that my father’s cock?”

Rhaenyra and Laenor only laughed and Rhaenyra asked, “Why yes, it is, it is his cock, the cock that made you and your siblings to be exact.”

Jacaerys turned an odd shade of green as he turned around on his laughing parents.

“Fine!” He grumbled. “Be disgusting, but please for the love of the fourteen flames of Valyria, please wash yourselves before you hold my children.”

And then he walked away, laughing as he heard the sounds of his mother slapping his father and his father grumbling at being “left in this state” and his parents hurriedly dressing to meet their first grandchildren.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra was walking along the Street of Flour, pointing at the different delicacies to the child she was holding, her first granddaughter, Maegelle. Named after their Aunt Septa who helped raise her children of course, on the other side of the street, Laenor was doing the same with little Maegelle’s twin, a boy named Daemion, named after the Rogue Prince.

Around them were the common folk and their guards as well as their two youngest, Aenar and Vaeron who were weaving in and out of the streets, sometimes pouting to be given some of the sweets displayed in various stores.

This was a typical day so far for the Targaryens, going to be with their people in the morning and then attending council meetings after noon. The only thing that Rhaenyra misses were her elder children.

Though she cheered up at the thought that she would see Lucerys and Rhaena in a few moons, as Rhaena was set to give birth to their first child then. She and Laenor would fly to Driftmark while leaving Jacaerys and Helaena in charge.

It would be a good test run for the younger set, if they can handle the kingdom’s affairs while their parents enjoy their newest grandchild.

Viserys all but dumped the ruling of the kingdom on Rhaenyra’s shoulders and though she was more than up to the task, she wished sometimes that her father was a little less selfish, a little more present.

Though he doted on his grandchilren and now his great grandchildren, he was never the first to reach out, except when Baelon was very young, Rhaenyra suspected it was because of his competition with Corlys and not a true desire to be the first to see his grandchild. No, if the children would not go to his rooms to play with him, Viserys was content to let life and therefore everyone go on without him.

Sometimes Rhaenyra thinks it would be better off if she were an orphan, but then she quickly shakes herself. At least she still has a father. Even a scar riddled, selfish one at that.

She realized that she and Maegelle had been left behind as Laenor and the other children were almost at the end of the street, moving to go to their final destination - the orphanage in her mother’s name where the children will play with the little orphans while she and Laenor conversed with the matrons about the status of the place.

It was a weekly meeting, one that cemented her and her family in the hearts of those living in Kings Landing.

Laenor knew what perception means to people and although Rhaenyra truly wished to do all this, they had to use the people’s perception of them to bolster her reputation. At first Rhaenyra was wary of being “on show” all the time but through the years, Laenor was proven correct.

It wouldn’t do to just take a carriage to the orphanage or the alms house or the healing house, do her business and then leave the same way.

The people needed to see her doing it, thus the slow walk to the places she needs to visit, the many many stops at different shops and establishments. It was hard work, but after a time, Rhaenyra found herself enjoying it more this way. It wasn’t just that she was seen by the people, she was seeing the people too.

Jaecerys and Helaena would do the same, following their example, but on different days so that people saw the continuation of their legacy, a promise of stability. It was Laenor’s well thought out design, but Rhaenyra and the children have no qualms following, after all, when had Laenor steered them wrong?

A great shadow eclipsed the streets as a dragon flew nearby, it wasn’t an unusual sight, not anymore. With all of Rhaenyra’s children, cousins and Uncles and Aunt having dragons, there was at the very least two or more flying around the capital at any given time.

Rhaenyra recognized Grey Ghost, whose the speed at which he was flying made her worry a little. Was there an emergency her Uncle Vaegon needed to go to? Rhaenyra shook her head as she with Maegelle hurried to catch up with the rest of the family.

They would call her if she was needed, she was sure.

—————————————-

A moon later, the family, sans Jace, Helaena and little Maegelle were at Driftmark. Even Viserys was excited to come to meet his greatgrandchild for the first time.

Little Laenyra Velaryon was born screaming louder than her mother Rhaena, and it was to everyone’s joy that she looked wholy like a little Laena with only one eye as purple as Rhaenyra’s and another as deep blue as the SeaSnakes.

Viserys weeped at the sight, remembering his mother Alyssa Targaryen who was the only other one in the family with mismatched eyes.

“The Pearl of Driftmark” was cheered and celebrated, and happy did not even begin to describe the family.

Uncle Vaeon had sent a raven weeks ago saying he was needed at the citadel for a very important matter and that he will be back once the matter is concluded. Laenor tried to get his spies in Oldtown to determine what this “matter” was, to no avail. The archmaesters and Uncle Vaegon were always cloistered behind closed doors they cannot penetrate.

It bothered Laenor, not knowing. For two decades after all he knew everything that was going on in the realm in order to protect his family. Rhaenyra reminded him that the threats were all but gone and he should relax a little. There was a tiny niggling of doubt in Laenor’s heart however, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

———————————-

Daemon was not having an easy time of it, not because he was unhappy with his first real grandchild, no. He was pissed that the little shit Lucerys was corrupting his little girl.

To everyone’s amazement, Rhaena’s first question after the birth was “How soon can I bed my dear husband again?”

Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince and Lord Flea Bottom was stunned, and then he was angry. That was his little girl! How dare this punk Lucerys corrupt her!

It did not help that Haerion, Baela’s husband and Lord of Dragonflame stoked the fire with a “And that’s why we aren’t having any children yet! We’re enjoying each other’s bodies far too much to worry about pregnancy and childbirth for now.”

It made Daemon see red, listening to these… these heathens! Speak about his daughters that way.

Nevermind that said daughters were openly flirting with their husbands and had added even lewder innuendoes to the conversation.

No, it was these rotten boys!

Laena, the other half of his soul would laugh and shake her head everytime he glared at either of his sons in law, only squeezing him and telling him that he was far worse when they were younger.

These would often lead to Daemon sputtering and claiming to be the pillar of virtue that no one believe he was.

For weeks after Laenyra’s birth he was a thundercloud of gloom and glaring fire.

That is until he received a private missive just days after another surprise came. And then he was gone.

————————-

Rhaenyra was rocking her little Laenyra to sleep one night, cooing over the newborn.

Her and Laenor had decided to take over the duties for the night as they saw how utterly exhausted the new parents were, specially since Rhaena’s milk was very sparse but even then her good daughter refuses a wet nurse, determined to nurse her own child just like Rhaenyra and Laena did for them.

For now, Rhaenyra ordered the two new parents to bed and she and Laenor took turns taking care of their infant grand daughter.

After Rhaenyra had settled little Laenyra to her cot, she straightened up and promptly felt faint, she immediately called out, “Laenor, Laenor!”

Laenor, never far behind his wife was just in time to catch a fainting Rhaenyra.

——————————-

“Congratulations, your grace. You are once again with child.”

The announcement was met with shocked silence. Almost all of the family had rushed to the guest rooms where Laenor and Rhaenyra were when news of her fainting spread around the castle.

“Are you sure?” Daemon asked the healer with a skeptical brow.

The healer arched a brow back, “Yes, my prince, about two to three moons I think.”

Laenor paled at the news. After Maegelle’s birth and the disaster that was Jacaerys catching them *ahem* red handed, he had all but hauled his wife and ravished her through the night. Rhaenyra, exhausted did not drink moon tea after. They thought she was too old to bear a child at 37.

They should have known, after all the good Queen Alyssane gave birth even after several grandchildren were born, and Rhaenyra was the most fertile Targaryen after her.

Laenor kept muttering to himself for days, cursing his stupidity.

It wasn’t until Rhaenyra stopped him one day, the day that Daemon and somehow Rhaenys seemed to disappear on their dragons.

Too busy kicking himself for putting his wife’s life in danger, Laenor barely noticed the absence.

It took a while, even after they had returned to the Red Keep a moon later, before Rhaenyra could sufficiently calm her distraught husband down.

Jacaerys and Helaena had done a good job taking care of the capital and were delighted at the news of a new sibling.

Helaena was heard to say, “The West Wind blows and the mighty Purple Queen rises.”

Indeed, Laenor only calmed down when Rhaenyra assured him that she was fine and that she trusted that Laenor would never put an unborn child above her own life.

“Of course not! I already lost one love of my life, I don’t… I can’t Rhaenyra, I can’t live without you.”

Laenor said passionately that night.

“I’m the love of your life?”

Her husband glared. “That’s what you got out of what I said? Of course you’re the love of my life! I would give up my life for you, I would burn the world to ashes for you, you daft woman!”

Rhaenyra could only squeal and throw herself at her husband. It was a while before they made any other noise other than panting and calling out each others’ name in pleasure.

———————————

The following morning, a somber Daemon, Rhaenys, Vaegon and Septa Maegelle came back.

Everyone immediately convened in the council chambers to greet them.

“Where have you been?” The king asked curiously.

“Oldtown is ashes.” Rhaenys declared hotly.

Everyone was stunned silent.

“They poisoned them, they killed them, they have been bringing down our family from the beginning.”

And then Daemon, the Rogue Prince fell apart in tears.

Chapter Text

There was much commotion, heartbreak, yells, cursing and tears as Vaegon and little input from Daemon, Rhaenys and Septa Maegelle recounted what had happened in the past few weeks.

It started when one of the oldest maesters died in the citadel, the acolytes, most of them loyal to the Targaryens (thanks to Laenor!) found a handfull of little blackbooks when they were cleaning out the dead maesters chambers.

In those books were note after note of every single Targaryens death from the time of the conqueror, and almost all of them at the hands of the maesters.

Vaegon was called at once to help investigate and as the grandmaester, he locked down the citadel with the Velaryon guards that Laenor provided Oldtown years prior.

In the weeks that followed the conspiracy was uncovered. A conspiracy between the maesters and the Hightowers, who joined after one of their own was cruelly brutalized by Maegor the Cruel. Who, by the way was not entirely mad. He was driven insane by concoctions that the maesters have given him to “improve his fertility”.

And on and on it went, the deaths of most of Jaeherys and Alyssane’s children, every single childbed death, even Rhaenys’ inability to conceive more after Laenor, who together with Laena were born when Rhaenys would join in the SeaSnakes travels, keeping them away from the cruel maesters that sought to destroy the House of the Dragon.

In the journals of yet another old maester that was apprehended were years of ranting about the unholy beasts of the Targaryens and their blasphemous ways of marrying kin.

Another maester was caught red handed with Visensya’s Treatise on Dragon Blood, where she claimed that Valyrian blood must not be diluted by Andal blood as it thins the magic, making it harder for the next generation to properly bind with a dragon, thus causing less and less control and making dragons dangerous. In it she also stated that the blood of the First Men, also imbibed with magic helps strengthen the Dragon’s blood almost as much as Valyrian blood.

The blood of First Men also brings forth interesting powers such as Green Seeing, Skin Changing and strengthens Dreamers.

Pure Valyrian blood equates to absolute control of dragons though, as evidenced by Daemon’s otherworldly bond with Caraxes.

Daemon, interrupted this part of the story to rage at Viserys for marrying “that Andal Cunt!” and producing diluted beasts.

Viserys for most of it was only silently weeping for his parents, his Uncles and Aunts and cousins and cursing himself a fool.

It was in the Hightower though that the whole of the plot was discovered as for generations, Hightowers were tasked to engage with Targaryens, weaken their blood and thus present to all that Dragons are dangerous and should be exterminated. They did not succeed, until Otto and Alicent.

This was put in place as neither maesters nor Hightowers could create poison strong enough to kill dragons. They were close once, experimenting on stolen eggs from the Dragon Pit in Kings Landing. They were able to create smaller dragons, but dragons still who can still breathe fire and cause destruction.

The whole family wept at the news.

They were so close to extinction.

If it wasn’t for Helaena’s dreams.

If it wasn’t for Laenor’s petty revenge.

If it wasn’t for Rhaenyra’s steadfastness.

If it wasn’t for Daemon, Rhaenys and Laena’s fire.

Viserys, in another bout of utter stupidity asked the others why he was not informed. He understood that Rhaenyra was in a delicate condition, and Laena was taking care of the still sickly Rhaena, but he was king!

It was Daemon who answered, “And what would you have done, brother? Cozy up to the Hightower cunts? Try and “talk” and bow and scrape to the grey rats? No, brother, our whole bloodline was at stake, my family, my children, my grandchildren! They needed to go! Knowing you, you would have tried for a so called fucking peaceful way out of conflict that would only end up blowing up in all of our faces, maybe even literally!”

Stunned, Viserys could only nod as more tears fell.

He got up and did not wait when Daemon spat, “Our family, our blood was on the line, it needed REAL dragons to get it done and you, brother, are NO DRAGON!”

——————————-

King Viserys stayed locked up in his rooms for fourteen days and fourteen nights and when he came out, hallowed eyed and gaunt, it was only to announce his abdication in favor of Rhaenyra.

He then went inside his rooms and in the morning when the maids tried to tidy his rooms, it was to their horror that the king was dead on his bed, his glassy eyes staring up af the ceiling, tear tracks still fresh on his cheeks.

Chapter Text

The gates of the Red Keep were wide open. Streamers, banners, tents and whatnot in colors of House Targaryen fly in the wind.

The week long celebration of Queen Rhaenyra, the First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Rider of the Golden Lady Syrax’s tenth anniversary on the Iron Throne was almost at its zenith.

Her King Consort and Protector of the Realm, Laenor Velaryon had not one thought of spare coin for the Celebrations.

Princess Rhaenys, Hand of the Queen despaired of her only son and his father, Lord Corlys Velaryon, Master of Ships and Lord of Driftmark. Both men were unstoppable in their spending for the anniversary.

Truly, the house of the dragon had grown to epic proportions, least of all with the nine year old Rhaenyn Velaryon, the Queen’s youngest daughter that was named after her grandmother, the Queen who Never was.

All of the Queen’s children and grandchildren were currently housed in the Keep, and to say that it was pandemonium was putting it lightly.

There was a child, everywhere one went, as the Queen’s children had evidently taken upon themselves to re populate the family.

Of course with excellent healthcare under the now aged grandmaester Vaegon and an army of healers and midwives, not to mention no grey rats to poison them, all of the Targaryen/Velaryon women were in good hands in their birthing chambers.

The Crown Prince of Dragonstone himself and his wife Princess Helaena had seven children running around.

The Driftmark Heir, Lucerys and his wife Rhaena has five.

Baelon Targaryen Arryn, Heir to the Vale and his wife Tilda were currently expecting their fourth.

Meanwhile Aemma Targaryen Strong and Jocelyn Targaryen Celtigar each had three.

Aenar married a Stark and had two sons currently.

Baela, Daemon’s daughter with Laena and her husband Haerion of Dragonflame had four children, expecting a fifth and sixth soon.

Aemon Targaryen and his wife Matilda Tully were expecting their second.

It was only Vaeron, who had followed through on his wish to become a maester was the only childless one in the family.

Rhaenys smiled as she surveyed the Royal Grounds, soon it will be the finale, an aerial display of more than two dozen dragons ranging from Vhagar to the smallest Princessfyre (don’t ask - it was Daemon’s granddaughter who named the dragon) would be flying above kingslanding and entertaining the masses and as the sun sets, fire works, an invention that Laenor in his ever resourcefulness had acquired will be set off, starting the night of feasting and revelry.

Harwin Strong’s Goldcloaks were at the ready for any and all mayhem that may happen, which let’s be honest with this bunch, was a foregone conclusion.

It was a long road getting here, with so many traitors that had to be routed out, after the expose of the citadel, many maesters were beheaded and it took an influx of healers from Essos to fill the void that was left, and thankfully the realm was stronger for it.

Rhaenyra and Laeonor. The Rider of Meleys sighed. They have truly built something wonderful, even with the painful passing of her cousin Viserys, Rhaenyra rose to the challenge of leadership like a duck to water, or rather like a dragon to the skies.

Indeed, the Princess thought as she hurried to the now open dragon pit, dragons growing faster as they were now unchained, they had a good life, all of them.

Truly that was the best revenge, as the corpses of their enemies rotted away into nothing, the House of the Dragon was still here, still strong, still standing.

And it was ready for when the promised heir would come.