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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 15 》

The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, references to sex, angst and grief, mentions of death, HIGHLY EXPLICIT DEATH, mentions of blood, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

In Storm’s End, watchers on the castle walls saw distant blast of flame, and would hear shrieks cutting the thunders. Everyone that knew which dragons had taken off from Darren’s Defiance imagined the same: the two beasts were locked together, lightning crackling around them.

■ ■ ■

《 Calm before the storm that already thundered 》

Vhagar was five times the size of her foe, the hardened survivor of a hundred battles. If there was a fight, it could not have lasted long. Though we did see what happened between the dark clouds, and so we can attest that the Fight above Shipbreaker Bay lasted more than perhaps ten minutes. Too little time for ones, mayhap, but let us remember The Queen of All Dragons could’ve easily ended the confrontation within a snap; it was prince Lucerys and his great rider skills than bought him and his dragon more time of life.

Yet, Arrax’s few remaining members fell, broken, to be swallowed by the storm-lashed waters of the bay. A leg and half-tail of his washed up beneath the cliffs below Storm’s End just hours after his butchering, to make a feast for crabs and seagulls.

So many theories arose between whisperers, in the years to come. Some claim that Prince Lucerys’ corpse washed up as well, and tells us that Prince Aemond cut out his eyes and presented them to Lady Maris Baratheon on a bed of seaweed. We know that’s excessive, and very much a lie.

Some say Vhagar snatched Lucerys off his dragon’s back and swallowed him whole. We know ‘tis the true version. It has even been claimed that the prince survived his fall, swam to safety, but lost all memory of who he was, spending the rest of his days as a simpleminded fisherman. Gods be good.

We shall give all these tales the respect they deserve…which is to say, none. Lucerys Velaryon, the sweet boy we lived, laughed and fought with since the commence of this story, died with his dragon. Our brother was fourteen years of age. His body was never found, though we yet may see that.

With his death, the war of ravens and envoys and marriage pacts came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began in earnest. But we will wait for the narration of this war a little longer. Believe us: the longer we postpone it, the better for our hearts.

Now we are up to date, knowing what is happening on each of the different sides of our history. We saw Jace and Daera conquering The Vale, we saw Aemond's and Luke's experiences in Storm's End, we saw Rhaenyra along her Black Council, and we saw Daeron arriving to King's Landing.

Now, let us turn back to him.

The youngest son of King Viserys I and his second wife, Alicent Hightower, is now at moments in the Godswood of the castle.

The prince, who’s just days away from turning eight-and-ten, is seated on a bench made of fine stone. From here, he feels a cold breeze and looks up at the white round moon, lightly smiling to it from his distance. The night is a quiet one that has brought him to reflections and thoughts.

His eldest brother, Aegon, is King of the Seven Kingdoms, sits the Iron Throne and is the highest authority of all Westeros. His elder sister has two beautiful children and is with child again, serving as a perfect wife to her husband. His elder brother, Aemond, flies about the realm to gain support for their brother’s throne.

Daeron can’t help but to think that his family is the freaking best. It only takes a glance to realize it; look at what everyone’s up to! There are times that the young man whishes dearly that he had grown here instead of Oldtown. He’d know them better, and he wouldn’t have had to ride Tessarion always alone in the skies. “How would it have been?”, he dreams.

The boy doesn’t know his luck.

-Daeron!-, a voice suddenly calls him. The prince stops smiling at the moon and turns around his face with tranquility, blinking quietly.

Dowager Queen Alicent nears to him with nervous steps, looking around anxiously while approaching with quickness. All of her jewelry clinks as she walks.

-What are you doing out here?!-. The Queen whispers, raising her brows as she reached to him, standing in front of her youngest son, who just shrugged-. It is dark and cold out here, and you alone-. She raises her brows.

-It is fresh-, he shrugges again, gifting her a little smile. Alicent shakes her head briefly, looking around-. The Godswood is always a good place to think, mother, which is what I am doing, do not need to worry-. The prince speaks funnily, cocking his head while looking at her.

-You must be tired, from your flight, Daeron-. The Dowager Queen speaks along little sighs, lightly moving her arms at the sides of her body.

-Sort of-. The boy shrugges, once again, showing no distress at all on his eyes. He’s so different from his mother-. I realized…Aegon didn’t make a feast, as he said he would-. He notices, lightly narrowing his eyes towards her.

Alicent briefly presses her lips, raising her brows a little and beginning to nod.

-The King came to the realization that holding a banquet was not appropriate for the evening-. She attests, crossing her hands over her belly-. He found it best to…behold his wishes-, she showed a quick smile.

That was a lie. She hasn’t even seen Aegon since they were at The Iron Throne Hall and he declared a feast was to be taking place in The Red Keep. Truth be told, “the King” got drunk, forgot about his idea, and kept getting drunk.

-Ah, wise-. Daeron smiles, nodding. His mother nods in silence, starting to wonder where her eldest son may be now. She spent great time of the day in the High Sept, praying, so she wouldn’t know-. Mother-, he appears before her eyes again.

Alicent breathes in deeply, getting off her deep thoughts. Daeron blinks while looking at her, noticing the strong grip on her own hands and how tense her shoulders are. He wonders whether she’s cold or anxious.

-Care to sit with me?-, he proposes, leaning to the right, and making space for her on the bench.

-I rather stand-. His mother answered, preferring to have a clear sight of the whole garden itself, which is still lonely, only the two of them here-. Thank you, dearest-. She’s quick to add, glancing at him.

Daeron accepted her decision with no offense, but still kept the space for her. The prince breathes calmly through his nose staring at the moon once again. There is silent for some time, in which he got thoughtful, and she kept looking around.

-May I ask you something?-. The queen’s son questions, still looking at the white circle in the sky.

Alicent pressed her scrunched lips, immediately assuming that he’s to ask about the situation at presence. The war.

-You may, son-. She allowed after gulping, maintaining a serious expression.

Dowager Queen wonders what he’d ask. “What would happen to us if Rhaenyra steals my brother’s throne?”, “How are our defenses?”, “Why didn’t you fight back to Rhaenys and her dragon?”, “Will someone kill me and my siblings?”.

-Did my father suffer, mom?-. Daeron asked, blinking slowly. In that moment, Alicent became speechless, parting her ever-pressed lips. Haven’t expected that question at all, she looks down to him with eyes that started to show emotion-. Did he suffer much…before parting?-. He furrows his brows lightly, gulping.

There’s true worriness on her child’s eyes; he truly feels for the father that barely paid him any sort of attention. He is not resentful. He…truly is completely different from his brothers.

Alicent licks her lips, thinking of her words before speaking them, under the purple eyes of her Valyrian son.

-We did everything in our and the Gods’ power so that your father didn’t suffer-. Alicent answered with tones of sweet, sugar-coating King Viserys’ sickness-. We cared for him…until the very end-. She assured, gifting him a slow honest smirk.

When hearing so, Daeron sighed, forming a smile as well.

-I am glad-, he whispers-. I am thankful-. The prince looks to her with relieve-. I know he is too, mom…-. Daeron promised with gentleness, raising a hand, and holding one of his mother’s.

Alicent curves her brows, sniffing her nose. Her shoulders slouched and her lips smiled sadly to him. She looks at the boy with a troubled love, honestly not understanding how is it that he can be so good.

Feeling a great deal of easiness while being with her youngest child, Dowager Queen Alicent prayed for forgiveness from the gods, and then lied to him.

-He oft asked for you, your father-. Alicent softly says. She saw Daeron’s immediate surprise and how he instantly smiled. That made her to show her teeth.

-Did he?-, the young princeling asks, wide-eyed and smiley, wanting more than ever to had been here much much sooner.

-He did, many a time-. His mother whispers tenderly, gripping his hand, and caressing his white hair with other. Daeron sincerely smiles to her, lifting his blushed cheeks.

Alicent loves him.

-And did he also…?-

-You ought to sleep, my love-. The Queen interrupted him with a funny reproachful tone, raising her brows. The prince inevitably chuckles, standing up from the bench. She had to look up; all her children are taller than her.

-I shall then-. Daeron agrees, caressing her fingers. Alicent smiles softly to him, blinkless, appreciating his manly features yet all his soft-hearted gestures-. Good night, mom-. He leans forward, placing a sweet kiss on one of her cheeks.

While her son kisses her cheek, and she kisses back one of his, a part of Alicent starts to regret having sent him to bed, and whishes to keep chatting and feeling this kind of tranquility. But she’s also right; her son must rest.

-Sleep well-, she whispered, caressing his fingers with love.

-My queen!-. A startled voice called her from one second to another, Cole’s.

Mother and son both turned their heads with easiness. Still holding hands, Alicent has calm in her eyes and Daeron a little smile on his lips.

-Ser Criston-, the Queen greets him with raised brows. The knight looks highly relieved, walking into the Godswood.

-Worry not, my mother was not alone here-. The prince talks with a funny smile, starting to walk towards the stiff knight. From behind, still standing in front of the bench, her mother chuckles. The sound surprised her Sworn Protector-. Please see that my mom reaches her bedchambers safely, Ser-. He asks.

-I shall see it done, my prince-. Cole immediately agreed. Daeron winks an amused eye.

-Ser Criston-, he farewelled him with a respectful nod, smiling.

-My prince…-, the knight mumbled, nodding back to him.

After a last smile, Daeron left the Godswood. After her child left, Queen Alicent blinked many a time, and the smile on her face got erased. Feeling again her usual uneasiness, she gulped and breathed heavily.

She turns around and approaches to her Sworn Protector, who quickly walked towards hers as well, armored as always.

-Has something happened, Ser Criston?-. She asks distressedly.

-Nothing, Your Grace-. He quickly answered, standing firmly while looking at her-. I had been looking for you for a while, my Queen. Couldn’t find you-. The knight explained his former anguish.

When hearing no bad new, and the man’s worriness, the Queen sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, relieved but still stressed.

-I was at the Sept praying, Ser Criston-. Alicent informed, scratching her forehead and making her bracelets to jingle.

Cole pressed his lips, staring at her with his brown big eyes, which blinked two times with growing unquietness. He takes a step closer, making her to open her eyes when he suddenly whispered.

-I beg your pardon for my boldness, Your Majesty, but you should not be wandering alone, neither outside the castle gates nor at night-. He mumbled with shame but insistence, looking over her shoulder while talking.

-The Sept is safe-, Alicent shakes her head briefly, making her long curly red mane to bounce with her while a troubled smile.

-…Yet these are not safe times, Your Grace-. The brown-haired knight murmured, this time looking down at her, with loosen brows and blinkless eyes.

Dowager Queen Alicent’s eyes started to became wary. She presses her lips, recalling the events that took place in the Dragonpit, where The Queen Who Never Was and her dragon Meleys broke the pit’s floors, rumbled roars of war, and nearly slashed their fury above all Alicent’s family, if it hadn’t been until a sudden change of heart from the Princess Rhaenys. Only her sudden mercy saved their lives, after attempting against them.

That’s when Alicent gulps, truly understanding his meanings. Cole stares at her with the same worried shame.

-I am your Sworn Protector, my Queen-. He recalled, justifying the advice he just gave her.

-You’re right-. Her airy and weary voice agreed with him, nodding-…you are-. She expanded her lips into a close sad grin.

Softly, Cole nods, lightly lifting the sides of his lips. She did the same and, with this, Queen and Sworn Protector gifted each other tiny but sincere smiles under the white light of the moon.

The redhead woman sighed through her nose, crossing her hands over her belly, and taking a last look around.

-Walk with me, Ser Criston-. She asks, beginning to walk calmly. Doubtlessly, he followed her by her side, as always.

They got into the castle, now walking among the great pale red walls of The Red Keep, having the light of multiple torches along their way.

Queen Alicent sighs, staring front.

-I wanted Daeron to come to King’s Landing not only to have the many dragons as possible with us, but to have him with us too-. She comments, briefly raising her brows under the listen of her guard-…Wanted to be able to see with mine own eyes that he was safe-, she mumbles, looking around as they walk.

Criston looks sideways at her for a second, silently moved by how she talks about her younger son. Seconds the, she sighed, highly heavily.

-Although, now that he is indeed here, I must confess a certain…uneasiness, regarding his safeness…-Alicent mumbles. Cole furrows his brows, looking at her-. I now doubt whether if The Red Keep is the best place to accomplish so-. She admitted, glancing at her feet for a second-. Wonder if it’s safe for any of us-, she quickly murmured, breathing with heaviness.

-The Keep is strong, Your Grace-. Criston is quick to assure and slow to agree with her, in this case. The Queen gulps, gently side-eyeing him while they walk-. So are our men at arms, our dragons and our defenses-. He firmly listed, sure of his words. He stares at her, closing his lips for a quick second-. And so are you, my Queen-. The knight added with confidence.

Alicent stops walking, looking at the floor. Ser Criston stopped too, standing straight and firmly. The Queen gulped, turning her head to look at him. She took a glance around, seeing that they were alone, and afterwards approached to steps closer to him.

Cole almost felt his heart bursting out from his chest.

-We deserve naught of this paranoia, Ser Criston-. The Queen murmured, shaking her head-. The Iron Throne by rights must pass to His Grace’s eldest trueborn son-, she insisted with wide eyes, opening her hands and moving them tightly.

-As it has always been, Your Grace-. He quickly nods.

-Not to mention that it was my late husband’s desires, his own words! And…and his brother, Rhaenyra’s husband, no other than Daemon…we all know that one’s nature-. Alicent afflicts her throat with sincere fright. His eyes got cold when thinking of The Rogue Prince.

-Make no mistake, should Rhaenyra ever sit the Iron Throne, it will be Lord Flea Bottom who rules us-. Ser Criston mumbled with sourness, clenching his armored hands to the sides of his robust body.

-A king consort as cruel and unforgiving as Maegor ever was-. Queen Alicent whispered with bitterness. Criston hums, remembering the stories Aemond has read him of Maegor The Cruel, his Black Brides and his reigning years of terror-…Under his judgement, my father’s head will be the first cut off, I do not doubt it, but your Queen, myself, will soon follow-. She spoke with a low voice, constantly curving her brows.

-Your Grace-, he makes a disgusted worried face, scowling at her.

-Nor will their spare my children-. Alicent declared, gulping so strongly, and blinking with so much fright when saying it. Even the harsh Criston shivered when thinking of that-. Aegon and his brothers are the king’s trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of…plain-featured boys-. Even after Viserys’ death, she can’t find herself capable of saying the word “bastard” out loud, yet no still-. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones…-, she whispered, having fright on her eyes. Cole clenched his jaw-. One of her boys put out my Aemond’s eye, never forget, though he was a boy-. She remembers, speaking in whispers.

-He was a boy, aye, but the boy is the father to the man, and bastards are monstrous by nature-. Ser Criston didn’t have the Queen’s sensibility towards the word, and spoke it plainly and without shame. The redhead parted her lips, not stopping him-. Should the princess reign, Your Grace, Jacaerys Velaryon would rule after her; Seven save this realm if we seat a bastard on the Iron Throne-. He spoke bitterly, in whispers.

-And Daera Targaryen by his side-, The Queen whispered too with sourness. Criston pressed his lips harshly when hearing that name-. We can only expect the worst from that girl too, for she’s no different than her tribe-, she denied while shaking her head from one side to another-. What she did to those man in The Vale…butchered them whole…-, Alicent narrows her eyes, recalling that great fuss from those years.

-As her father did to our city as well-. Cole remembered when The Prince of The City took his Gold Cloaks and dismembered nearly half of the capital’s smallfolk, punishing thieves, offenders, rapists and all kinds of evildoers.

Alicent strongly clenches her teeth, approaching one step closer, and whispering even lower.

-And she did it again…when she was here…-, she informed. Criston opens his furrowed eyes bigly, listening closely-. Ash and bone were taken to Flea Bottom by the breeze, from the coast where her dragon always nests-. Alicent whispers, narrowing her eyes-. The same day that she arrived to court with a brain-stained dress and tears of red on her hair-. She pointed out, recalling.

Criston immediately remembers that day, and how she walked into the hall of the Iron Throne with a cocky smile, all bathed in blood. Moments later, her father, The Rogue Prince, was decapitating Ser Vaemond Velaryon.

Alicent gulps, remembering the detailed report that the master of whisperers and Lord Confessor, Lord Larys “Clubfoot” Strong, brought to her about the mine of ashes on Kalistrox’s nest, and the smallfolk that attested to have heard voices of despair pleading for mercy in the air.

-…A bastard and a madwoman ruling the Seven Kingdoms…-, Ser Criston’s murmur came with sourness and angriness whilst he shook his head-. Unforgiving-, he denied.

-It is not just that it cannot be, but that it is not what should-. Queen Alicent raises her brows, insistent-. That chair belongs to my son-, she places a hand on her chest, over her heart-…It always has. Viserys told it to me…long ago too-. She confessed, blinking slowly.

When that came to be said, Ser Criston grew confused, not understanding the “long ago”, for the King died just recently. Alicent opens her mouth, but closes it quickly when seeing a brown-skinned servant walking nearby.

The Queen and her Protector remained silent. The servant, carrying a lemon cake on her hands, bowed her head and quickly walked away, soon turning on a corner and going elsewhere.

Alicent licks her lips, and breathes in deeply, looking at him again.

-Your Grace-, he whispers and nods, listening to her.

-When I was pregnant with Helaena…Viserys told me about a dream of his, a dream that- well, a dream that he had when Queen Aemma was still alive-. She whispered, surprising the knight, for he thought about how long ago that was-. He dreamed of a son birthed to him, being crowned!-. Alicent curved her brows, speaking with passion. Ser Criston parted his lips, shocked-. My husband expressed to me how much he desired that to be truth, how he saw in that dream The Conqueror’s crown placed on his son’s head and his sword on his hand-. The Queen recalls as if it has been yesterday, as it has been moments ago, and not more than twenty years-…He said he wanted it…-, she murmured slowly, blinkless, remembering that night.

Ser Criston, speechless, watches her every move and listens to her every word. This just reassures everything they’re fighting for; he thinks.

-He told me on Aegon’s second nameday-. Alicent confessed, closing her eyes for a few moments. Criston opened his widely, instantly remembering those times, that night, that hunt in the Kingswood where Rhaenyra made a fuss out of her emotions, as always, drowning herself in a cup of water.

Cole parts his lips, taking the information in. Moments then, he speaks.

-Prince Aemond once told me about the dreams some Targaryen have…-, he recalls with a low voice, and she starts to nod-. If I’m not mistaking…Daenys the Dreamer dreamed Old Valyria’s doom-. The knight says, thoughtful.

-Which happened, eventually, within the years; Daenys’ dream was true-. Alicent quickly nods, raising her brows. He gulps; he has always been kind of fascinates -to not say intimidated- by the Targaryens and their history-. Viserys’ is too-. She thinly whispers, from the bottom of her heart. Her knight looks at her with big secure eyes.

-It will be, my Queen-. He nods under the crystal hazel gaze of hers-. I shall be by your side and your children’s, until my last breath, Your Grace-. Fiercely, he promised, never blinking.

Alicent curves her brows, and gulps. She appreciates it heartily, closing her eyes while nodding. The Queen sighs with distress, caressing her forehead, realizing just now that she had been sweating.

-I thank you, Ser Criston…-. A soft whisper left her lips. He nods with determination.

Dowager Queen Alicent gulps, and then starts to form a smile on her closed lips. A minute then, she opens her eyes, and looks at him.

-…Helaena is with child-, she informed with an easy mumble. Ser Criston instantly froze; any firm look on him faded away and his eyes immediately shined with surprise and happiness, his mouth went open.

Such expression from her serious guard made the Queen laugh openly, which she rarely does.

-Maester Orwyle says her course is three moons already-. Alicent whispered with great emotion.

Ser Criston took the liberty to laugh, curving his brows, and clenching his teeth with excitement and pride.

And, as they speak of Helaena, let us turn to her…

Queen Helaena’s handmaiden, Claudia, delivered a small-sized lemon cake to the Queen’s chambers when she asked her for that favor. Claudia recalled it was not a favor but a duty for her to obey her commands; Helaena pointed out that not when it was this late and she should be asleep.

Nevertheless, the kind Claudia had not trouble in bringing the dessert to her rooms. After thanking her, and gifting her a slice of the cake, Helaena took the pastry into her bedchambers, having a shining smile on her lips, showing all her teeth.

The Queen sliced two slices of cake. Now we find her kneeled on the bed and, in front of her, are her two children. The twins both excitedly see their mother handing them a slice of lemon cake for them to enjoy; she was giggling as she handed it to them.

-Happy name day…-, Helaena whispered with a glim of love on her purple eyes.

Jaehaerys was the first one to cheer, shrieking and immediately starting to eat. Jaehaera soon followed, taking a big bite of cake with a smile on her face. Kneeled and slouched in front of them, Helaena scrunched her nose into a smile and clapped excited.

The mother sees how her twins enjoy their dessert. The hour has grown late, indeed, but it seems that neither of them are sleepy. In the solitude and darkness of the bedchambers, Queen Helaena is happy to share this moment with her children, who are already a year now. Time flies…

While they eat calmly, the Queen sweetly pushed the twin’s heads with softness and neared them to her to place tender kisses on both their cheeks. She laughed so happily when feeling the kids kissing her too, leaving crumbs of cake on her pale skin.

After kissing their mother, they went on with their dessert.

-Oh-, Helaena giggles with sweetness, passing a thumb in Jaehaera’s lips to clean some crumbs-. Messy girl-, she whispered along funny chuckles.

-Um-, Jaehaera emits amusing sounds while her mother cleans her-. Daera-, a sudden babble left her lips.

In that moment, the white-haired woman froze, slowly getting away her hand from her girl.

-Yes-, she silly whispers.

-Daera-. ‘Twas Jaehaerys now who spoke.

-UH- Yes!!-. Their mother laughs, covering her mouth that smiled greatly.

Helaena blinks in shock, not believing that they had just named Daera; they haven’t seen her for days already, and still said her name for the first time, perfectly and- and she’s not here to listen.

Helaena feels her lips starting to tremble, and bitter tears coming up to her sudden sad eyes while she still smiles. The Queen feels her children miss their aunt. And for the love of whoever god that exists, she does too. Daera hasn’t left her mind nor heart since the last time she saw her. She just never leaves.

But now they’re apart, far away and completely oblivious to when they shall see each other again. These quarrel between their families, these stupid acts…

Helaena sobs weakly, closing her sad eyes while her lips curved down. She weeps Daera’s name, yearning and longing for her. What’s happening scares her so much, and what’s to come scares her even deeper. It is not worry about herself she worries; is about the ones she loves…the ones that are far in more danger.

“Daera, Daera, Daera…”

It seems that Helaena got so excited when Claudia brought her the lemon cake, that when she closed the door and walked to her twins with pure happiness, forgot to lock.

The doors are opened without notice, making the Queen to quickly turn around her head, still slouched on the bed. Entering to her chambers she found her King husband, arriving with weary steps, baggy eyes, long thin scarring wounds in his arms, and a great bulk on his pants.

Helaena’s face instantly became paler than usual, and her throat afflicted. Her husband grumbles, delicately closing the doors of the bedchamber. He did lock.

-Come-, his hoarse voice fills the room. Her superior lip tremble, looking at his red tired eyes-. Come-, he did a soft hand gesture to her.

-‘Tis the children’s birthday-. She is quick to say, weakly and fearful, blinkless.

-Helaena, I said come-. The King raises his brows. He limped for a second, too drunk to keep a straight posture-. Come, come, come-. He tsks his tongue, hating she was so still.

-Not in front of them please-. The Queen wept with a shaky voice.

Impatient and chaotic, Aegon II growled with despair and shot out walking quickly towards the bed of the room. Queen Helaena gasped and fastly came down of it from the other side. The children’s father grunts, clashing his hands on the mattress with distress.

After rapidly glancing at the children, the Queen turned around and ran further from there; thus, he followed her and got away from the kids.

-When I tell you to come…!-, Aegon left the rest of his words in the air, spitting on the floor as he ran foolishly to her, nearly stumping.

Helaena breathes fastly, coming out to the balcony with fast steps and scared eyes. She looks everywhere within a second, clearly knowing she got no way out. When she looked down for a millisecond, she saw the spikes below Maegor’s Holdfast.

-…YOU COME!!-. Aegon reached her angrily, surprising her from behind, and grabbing her wrists with great strength.

Queen Helaena gasped airless when he touched her, nearly breaking her neck when she looked up as if she was burned in a pyre. She looked up, and yet what she saw wasn’t the moon nor the stars.

She saw a thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

She saw her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

She saw a white curly mane burning.

Aegon made Helaena to end on the floor, forcing her to sit, only to then crawl over her, pressing his manhood against her shaky closed legs. His queen cries with fear, eyes-closed, shaking her head while mumbling nonsenses.

-They dance…-. Helaena cries with a broken voice, suddenly gasping for air and opening her eyes. She finds Aegon on top of her; she feels his kisses on her neck and his hand searching for her womanhood-. N-no! No! No!-. She shrieks as an agonizing hart, wanting to crawl away from his touch.

-Ay no no no, Helaena, you- Just stay quiet, bitch-. Aegon tsks his tongue with so much annoyance, babbling out his words, keeping her wrists prisoners of his hands.

Helaena’s red throat pains while she cries endlessly, strongly closing her eyes while her tits are being licked and her skirt lifted. The Queen lets out a scared sob, now moveless. Her husband sighed with the smile of a fool, feeling her warm body.

With a hand, Aegon gets his cock out and taps it against his wife’s thighs, making her to squeal with great horror. She grunted a cry and nearly turned around to craw far from him, but he quickly let go of his member and grabbed both her hands again.

-No!-, a broken sob leaves the Queen’s itchy throat.

-I came here to fuck-. Aegon smiles charmingly, looking down at her with his red eyes-. Not to be suffocated by all this fucking weeping!-, he erased his smile and whispered right to her face with anger.

Helaena sobs, pressing her trembling lips, looking at her greatest nightmare talking above of her; he’s a demon paralyzing her.

-Your running away’s from me are at an end-. Aegon growls maniacally, violently pushing one of her legs, opening them. Helaena cries endlessly, shaking her head from side to side-. I am King now-, he whispers bitterly.

He harshly gripped her chin, squeezing it, and from a moment to another penetrated her dry womanhood within a second, completely entering it. The Queen let out a cry so hurted, afflicting her throat and showing her teeth with pain.

On the other hand, The King afflicted his throat with pleasure, and showed his teeth when he smiled madly.

-Oh, yeah-. He moans, thrusting into her time after time.

Unable to cry out loud due to the hand squeezing her mouth and chin, The Queen can’t but cry silently, moveless and speechless, only hoping for it to be over already.

-You…-, King Aegon II’s red eyes of madness stared right at hers. She’s now realizing that there’s blood under his left eye-. You are to serve me, sister-. He declared with a cough and a smile.

Helaena sobs terribly, feeling all of his violent thrusts, his violent grip. The Queen, weakly, could glance at her children for one quick second. She cried harder when finding them watching at them with parted lips; they’re no longer eating cake.

Queen Helaena weeps with great terror, closing her eyes strongly.

A thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

Her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

A white curly mane burning.

-They danc-…!-. Helaena whines while her husband moans with a smile, trying his best to ignore her and just enjoy of her body-. They dance with crooked shoes!-, a broken sob left her throat.

-SHUT IT!-. Done with her nonsense, King Aegon punched his Queen right in her head.

And so Helaena was plunged into temporary darkness; she found calm.

■ ■ ■

Be welcomed to The Neck.

The narrow isthmus that connects the North to the rest of Westeros.

We’re now right beyond the border of the riverlands; we’re now officially in the North. Winds have change, of course; the wind is colder and harsher, dry but at the same time it makes one’s forehead sweat.

The swamplands of the Neck are by far the largest in all of Westeros, making it a rather unique biome. During day you can appreciate deep green trees, a lot of moss everywhere, and frogs jumping all around. However, ‘tis nighttime now, and the moonlight is not enough to light the lushness at its best.

Jace, Daera and their dragons had flown as discreetly as possible between the clouds of the night, for they didn’t want anyone to see them; they succeeded. The princes and their dragons took place as deeply in the swamp as possible, away enough from any camp and small civilization they checked from the skies. After wandering above the woods for some time, they decided upon a clean spot clean of mud or subterranean caves -at least cleaner the other spots-.

To their better accommodation, they opened in the ground as many of the bedsheets they could. They left two apart to cover themselves when they went to sleep, and with the remaining made an improvised mattress, not royally thick but neither too thin. In a free-of-sheet spot they left in the middle, they lighted a modest fire with a gentle sigh from Vermax.

With their “camp” now established, the princes are lying in their improvised mattress of fur. Both Daera and Jace have their heads resting in their luggage, using them as pillows. Both of them also have their respective dragon right by their side, keeping them warmer and safer. Basically, they’re surrounded by their dragons, who’re also lying in the ground.

Jacaerys is nearly falling asleep, tenderly watched by Vermax, who’s face is resting by his, breathing calmly too. On the other side, Daera has a golden tall wall by her. Kalistrox head rests over a fallen tree whilst his tail is nearly reaching the shore of a lake that is far from them. You cannot even imagine how uncomfortable it was for him to land in the swamp, watching to not mess with any tree. Matters to say that the one he’s resting his chin in is one of three he accidentally threw with one of his horns.

The Rogue Princess, playing with the handles of both her sword and her new dagger, which both remain strapped to the belt on her waist, watches her dragon with dearness. She raises a hand; her sweet fingers and palm caress Kalistrox’s limbs, lightly scratching them. The Golden Ray sighed loudly and purred with gentleness, blinking slowly. His princess smiled quietly.

The dragon’s sound made prince Jacaerys to open his sleepy eyes within a second, for they took him out of his nearing sleep. He breathes in with tiredness, humming lowly and scratching his eyes.

-Ouh shit-, the princess turns her head to look at him-. Sorry, did I wake you up?-. She whispers with same, scrunching her nose.

-No no, I was just resting my eyes-. The prince answers with a kind smile, and a hoarse sleepy voice. His sister snorts a little laugh, curving his brows-. Hmmm…-, he sighs again, crossing his arms behind his head-. They still ought to eat-, he remembers.

-Uhum-, his wife nods, eyeing Kalistrox while still caressing him. Jace lifts his gaze towards the Golden Dragon, feeling that it is a fortress that he’s looking at, for the beast is so tall and thick. He gulped, having the greatest of respects for his siter’s dragon.

-…He’s growing by the second, I think-. Prince Jacaerys murmured after some moments of quietness. Not looking at him, Daera lifted her lips into a small prideful smile.

-He is-, she agrees, whispering while scratching his limbs.

-Does he still fits in the Pit?-. He questions with curiosity, narrowing his eyes.

-I think he still does, at least he did the last time-. Daera shrugges, cocking her head-. Barely-, she quickly pointed, lifting a finger.

-‘Tis no wonder to me-. Jace mumbles, watching at his impeccable golden scales. He presses a smile, caressing Vermax’s horn with slowness.

Daera looks at Kalistrox distanced face. Her dragon eyed back at her, which made her to smile, kindly lifting her lips as a mother to her child would when seeing him laugh. The dragon purrs and closes his eyes, at ease.

The princess keeps staring at him, slowly becoming thoughtful. Jace looks at her again, finding her purple eyes looking at the fire interestedly; she looks beautiful.

-Do you remember that time when we were in the Dragonmont, walking over Vermithor’s nest?-. Daera asks from a moment to another, turning his head to look at him.

-Yes-, Jace quickly answers with an easy tone, raising his brows-. The other day when Daemon dared us to walk into the cave, and you almost did?-. He narrows his eyes with a playful smile.

-Haha-, his sister cackles two times. Jace chuckles, curving his brows-. That day-, she nods-. Well, did you know that…? Ah-. The princess accommodates herself better, turning her body to face him completely. Jacaerys did the same, interested, trying to not fix his eyes on the beautiful curve her waist has when lying sideways.

-Why?-. He questions, speaking curiously.

-I almost did because I wanted to see him, to see if Kalistrox could already be larger than him-. The princess confessed with honesty. That surprised his brother, whose eyes shined.

-Vermithor is to be said the second largest-. He murmurs, thinking of Vhagar, who is the first-. Do you think it possible?-. Jace asks with great interest.

-All the dragonkeepers from both Dragonstone and King’s Landing keep telling me these last moons is how much Kalistrox has been growing!-. The Rogue Princess speaks with a passionate hope, nodding quickly-. Vermithor barely flies out of his cave, what-…what if Kalistrox is bigger?-. She whispered, narrowing her eyes while picturing it.

-Can you imagine?-. Jacaerys smiles mesmerized, with narrow eyes too. His sister smiled, gladden with his same enthusiasm-. So, you wanted to know…-, he mumbles as he nods, recalling that day again.

-I still do-. The princess corrected him. Her brother raised his brows with acceptance, and she sucked her inferior lip with funniness.

Jacaerys gives her a cheerful smile, giggling lowly while looking at her. Daera chuckles lightly, still sucking her lips when she took a look around them.

A thousand cricket sing near them, as a hundred frogs do too. The sound of a stream soothes their ears when there is silence, which there was, until the white-haired spoke again.

-‘Tis weirdly ugly here, don’t you think?-. She comments, studying the surroundings. Prince Jacaerys did the same, only that with a growing smile on his humid lips-. Still, the northmen have never been known for a taste on eye-lusty lands-, she shrugges.

-What are they known for?-. The prince asks with an amused calmed tone. His wife makes a pout with her lips, thinking for two seconds.

-Baela once said they’re too pretty and too serious-. Daera shrugged, and he started to laugh-. I guess that sums them up pretty well-, she laughs as well.

-We shall see-. Jace raised his brows; she looked at him with cocky eyes, humming lowly when thinking about the lord they’ll be meeting soon-. And as an opposite to your statement, sister, I must admit I find certain beauty in this land-. He admitted with no shame, gaining a funny curious face from her-. Knowing something or someone’s story makes them more dazzling, I’d dare to say-. Jace nodded to a side.

-Ouh!-. Daera raises her brows-. Oh well, then…-. The princess drags herself a little closer and takes more comfort on her position, opening her eyes wide and smiling hugely when exaggerating curiosity-. I’m all ears-, she said with a funny voice.

Her brother-husband lifted his blushing cheeks and laughed. He took the liberty to also get closer, which his wife stared at with calculating smiling eyes, quietly.

-Well, there’s no much to it-. Jacaerys smiles modestly. She snorts and he grinned, rolling his eyes blank for a second-. In ancient times, the Neck was ruled by the Marsh King of the crannogmen-. And so Jace uses his “studying voice”, that he always employs whether when reading, discussing politics or -a new addition- treating with lords and ladies about alliances. Daera raises her brows, listening with a smile-. They submitted to House Stark when Rickard Stark, King in the North, defeated the Marsh King and took his daughter as wife-. He tells.

-Romantic-, she mumbles. Jacaerys licks his lips within a smile, looking down for a second.

-The crannogmen have maintained their ancient allegiance to House Stark, though…well, contact between them and the outside world has faded away to almost nothing, in these past years-. He mumbles while cocking his head, speaking softly-. Maester Gerardys told me-, he added-. But yet I know that the Starks wouldn’t even dream with disengage The Neck from them-, Jacaerys denies.

-Why not?-, she asked with a tender whisper, loving how he knows and speaks his histories by heart.

-The Neck presents a formidable tactical obstacle to anyone planning to invade the North!-. Jace responded with obviousness, raising his brown brows. She giggles and nods with great interest-. Did you know this place was instrumental in holding off the Andals during the coming of the Andals six thousand years ago?-. He asks with bemusement, shaking his head.

-Now I do-, the princess nodded, and he scoffed with marvel, now nodding.

-But, however, it is not effective against…ha, airborne dragons-. The prince said with undeniable pride, eyeing the two beast that sleep by their side.

-Such realization lead King Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North, to his decision to bend the knee to Aegon the Conqueror during the Conquest-. Princess Daera spoke with cocky smile and tone, raising her brows. Her husband licked his lips while smiling, nodding-. I used to read that story with father nearly every night, back in Pentos-. She remembers.

-Ah-, Jace smiles to her, slowly nodding.

-Hum-, Daera lets out a cute chuckle, turning her head to look at the white moon above-. The Conquest…-, she whispers-. Well, we already have something to chat about with Lord Cregan-. Daera cheers funnily.

-Aye-. The prince laughs, cheering too-. And a lot more of things-, he added.

-Yes…-. The princess breathes in deeply while looking around, not knowing that her husband is forever staring at her-. The North may not be the fastest ally, due to its location, but they surely will be the worthiest-. Daera points out with honesty, blinkless for a few second. She hears him humming, agreeing with her-…You’re right-. She mumbled.

-About what?-, he questions with a soft voice.

-Something is more dazzling when knowing its history-. Daera said into a playful sweet tone, looking at the trees and the stars above.

Blinkless, Jacaerys lifts the sides of his lips into a thoughtful expression. While feeling Vermax’s near body keeping him warm, the prince soon speaks his mind again.

-May I ask something, then, about our history?-. He questions with politeness, making her to look at him again. Her purple eyes smiled.

-Targaryen or Velaryon? I know many-, she proposes-. Wanna hear ‘bout King Aenys I and how I would give my live to have met him?-. Her face lit up with pride.

-…Us-. The Velaryon prince softly corrected her, barely moving his lips when whispering. Daera blinks bigly, only one time, staring at him with inevitable surprise-. I mean about…us…-, he whispered. And soon, she began to nod.

-You may-, she agreed.

-On our wedding night...why didn't you consummate with me?-. Jacaerys didn’t wait to ponder his question; Daera felt time froze. He’s blushing fastly-…Why didn't we?-, he murmurs.

-I…-, Daera blinks very slowly, finding the right words while beginning to shrug her shoulders-. I think that…I think that I never had thought about it before, honestly-. She has-. Good question-. She points at him.

-Uhum-, Jacaerys nods, patiently but presently waiting for an answer.

Daera presses her lips and sighs through her nose while staring at him. The answer is far from simple and yet it consists of an only word: Aemond.

-I guess I was heart-broken-. The princess Daera answered with a low tone, shrugging-. I was…besotted with another, you see…-

She still is.

-You have always been my brother-. Daera murmurs, lightly furrowing her brows. Jace watches her with attentive eyes and listening ears-. I always loved you as so-. She points out with a soft tone, nodding-. So, to have been turned into your wife, from a day to another, well…-. The princess sighs, opening her eyes big when she sighed with pure honesty-…I didn’t desire you-. She declared.

-Now you do?-. Jace’s question was automatic, asked within a second. Daera parted her lips, surprised. It was just then that the prince realized his thoughts had slipped out of his lips. He gulps, feeling heat reaching his cheeks.

Before speaking, the prince had been thinking about what took place in the Eyrie, between them. He thought about everything: Daera grabbing his jacket’s neck and pulling him closer to her; she purring at him, pushing down his shoulder so his mouth met her womanhood; she moaned with a smile and, while caressing his brown mane between her legs, called him a good boy.

Remembering all that apparently made the prince ask his question without much anticipation. But, accepting that he already did it, he moved on, and spoke again.

-Do you feel that I am…enough?-. He questions, narrowing his brown eyes. Nerves glim in them.

In that moment, sincere curiosity glammed on Daera’s purple orbs. The princess breathed in, accommodating her shoulders on their mattress; she got closer to him, blinkless under his gaze, which follows her every move.

She didn’t answer; but made another question herself.

-From the first day we were wed, and even days before that, I noticed that…-Daera narrowed her eyes, speaking firmly and curiously-…that you did want to consummate our marriage…-, the princess murmured.

They both recall that night. They had to sleep together, as the Seven dictate it must be done on a wedding night. They shared a bed, same blanket and same big pillow. She was drinking wine, jesting, joking, giggling all around; she was content…but she never touched him. And him…well, it seemed as Jace was starving even for a kiss on his cheek, or a caress on his hair, even a blow from her breath to his lips.

-You wanted to do it-. Daera points within a mumble, blinking slowly. She sees how his cheeks has gotten redder than before; he is not blinking, looking at her while nodding lightly-. And yet, you have always seen me only as your sister-. She says, recalling the feelings he used to have for Baela, their sister, not her. They’re faded now, since a long ago, but the question still rises-…Why was it so easy for you?-. The princess asked, confused.

Jacaerys breathed in through his nose, staring at her. The reflection of the fire flames dances in her confused face, in her curious violet eyes. Her long curly mane wiggles a little too, with the wind and Vermax’s breathing. After some seconds, the prince let a sigh out.

-Because I knew who I was getting wedded to-. The Heir to the Iron Throne answered with firmness, closing his eyes. In that moment, Daera grew even more confused, tilting her head to a side-. You are one of the most beautiful maidens of the realm, if not the most. Each lord -either paramount or vassal-, each steward, servant and knight speak of your beauty everywhere I go, anywhere I step into. There have been tourneys on your honor, men fighting for your favor and bless! Quarreling to just have you to look at them!-. Jacaerys speaks with admiration, narrowing his eyes.

Daera, bemused, listens with parted lips, which started to smile with surprise and flattery while looking at him. The princess scoffs while he talks, seeing the shine on his eyes, listening to the passion in his voice.

-I took as my wife the most precious and desired woman in the Seven Kingdoms-. Jace declared, straightening his shoulders whilst he talks, slowly taking seat in the mattress. She follows him with her eyes, having her head resting on one of her hands. He looked down at her, and stuttered, blinkless. Then he sighed; his shoulders fell-… I wanted to be up to the gift of owning that-. He confessed, simple but sincere, shrugging.

Warmly, Daera looks at him, curving her brows a little. That was shortly, for then she snorted with amusement.

-Oh-, she closed her eyes and widened a sarcastic smile on her lips-. So I am a responsibility for you, huh?-. Daera questioned with fun, laughing burlesque. Jace quickly furrows his brows, shaking his head with confusion-. Tell me, brother, is everything a duty for you?-. She tauntly asks, scrunching her nose.

-You are not following-. He fastly denied, firmly. Funnily, she pressed her smiling lips and nodded with gentleness, allowing him to speak again, thinking that she’d hear more of the same-. I see you as no trophy, I swear this to you-. The prince declared with a stiff lip, never stuttering nor blinking. His sister looks at him with eyes that slowly started to lose all glim of diversion-. I see you for what you are: someone there are no two of. I wanted to be enough for you-. Jace narrowed his eyes, slouching; his face got a little closer to hers, who’s staring at him with parted lips, shocked-…I still want to-. He confessed, true and honest.

The princess stares at him with reading eyes, analyzing every expression he makes. All are sincere and filled of dearness. He is speaking his truth, perhaps for the first time since the day they were wed.

-It’s not that is my responsibility to make you happy; I know you can very well achieve it on your own account-. Jace laughed a little, raising his brows. Shocked, Daera chuckles lightly too, curving her frown while looking at him at all moments. His brown eyes are dilatated-. It’s just that…you deserve that effort from me, it is the least- the least you deserve-. Jacaerys whispers as he touches his chest with his own warm hands, tapping his ten fingers over his heart, which is beating so fastly-. And as your husband -call it “duty”, if you so like- I want to give it to you; I want to make you happy-. The prince said with pure genuineness and openness.

Bemused, Daera lift she lifts the corner of her lips, curving her brows as well while looking at him with an inevitable tenderness, and surprise. “How not to feel this moved, this warmed?” She’s speechless, for he had never been so honest before, not like this. Not this…beautifully, in search of nothing more than acceptance from her.

Taking advantage of the tremendous loneliness of the swamp, the great distance from their home, and that he has already said too much, he sent all nerves to the Seven Hells…and leaned closer to his sacred wife.

-I lust for you, Daera…-. Jacaerys confessed with the sweetest of whispers, and the warmest of eyes. Daera gasped briefly, opening her lips, looking at him with pureness, and a light smile that began to thrive on her lips. He looks at them, breathing deeply-. I love you-, he murmured, a little weak now.

It is now that everything makes sense, that everything clicked in the princess’ mind. Jacaerys, her “fake” husband, had been slowly and silently falling in love with her…and it is just now that he’s having the guts to confess it, when they are at the other side of the world, in a cold swamp with their dragons.

-Oh…-, Daera sighed, raising a hand and placing it on his neck, caressing his brown hair with her tender fingers. He breathes deeply, always staring at her-. I love you too, Jace-. She warmly said, dragging her fingers to a side of his face to caress his burning cheek. He lightly raised his brows, lost on her purple loving eyes-…I always have…-, the princess whispered, honest.

Jace scoffed, with a happiness and nerves that he couldn’t hide very well. He bit the inner of his cheeks, sucked his inferior lips, and looked down whilst trying to hide a smile, chewing it. That expression remembered her of Rhaenyra. Daera leaned her head to a side and looked at him with a dear grin, feeling how warm his cheeks are.

-Oh, for the gods’ sake…-. Daera whispers, narrowing her eyes. She is so moved; she is so happy he has told her this. Why? Why is she? How does she exactly feel about this? Why doesn’t it bother her, as their whole marriage once did?

-I know that we married off for duty, but…-. Jace speaks, looking up again. He takes both her hands, resting his chin in them. Daera snorts a cute laugh, wrinkling the sides of her eyes-. But…!-, he laughs too, caressing her fingers-…I have learned so much from you, Daera; you have taught me so much-. He declares, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes-. I only ever want your best-. Jace whispers with softness.

-And I yours, my prince…-. Daera murmured with the same tenderness as him, feeling the soft caresses on her fingers.

Jace smiled to her, not showing his teeth. Moments then, that smile slowly started to fade away, which confused her.

-What is it?-. She whispers, holding his hands tighter. He smiles lightly again, looking up at her, then gulping, then fading his smile again.

-I also wanted to ask about…about Aemond-. Jace spoke, inevitably uncomfortable, pressing his lips.

When Daera heard his name, her body froze. She didn’t see it -thank the gods she didn’t- but when Aemond was named, her eyes flickered, and afterwards they blinked with what appeared to be shame, and embarrassment. Jace did notice it, gulping.

-Can I ask?-. With honesty, the prince asked for permission, patiently. His wife looked down with sad eyes, not wanting him to see the glum in her pupils, but he is. After some silent seconds, she starts to nod, allowing him to continue.

This is the first time they have said The One-Eyed Prince’s name between them, since they got married. He had faded to Daera’s past, until now.

-It has been a year already, I think, or nearly a year-. Jacaerys mumbles, starting to caress her fingers again. She gulps strongly, thinking of Aemond and all the- the wrongs he has done to her-. Do you…do you think this was the right decision?-. And so, Jace asked with no restriction. Her lips almost trembled in that moment, looking at him with them pressed-. Us?-, he whispered.

Slowly, Daera takes her hands away from his, taking seat in front of him while crossing her arms on her chest. The prince gulps, patient. Daera looks down, feeling a great lump on her throat, and a thousand knives on her heart.

She imagines a reality where she had never really been with Aemond; one where she would have married Jace, with heart and desire, not convenience and politics. A reality where he had never followed her into Flea Bottom, nor to that alley either. A reality where she had never seduced him first, nor defended his violence and cruelty. A reality where she…had never lied to her family and dear ones.

If that were her reality, she would have saved herself from so much pain, dilemmas, arguments and fights with her family. She would have saved herself from so many tragedies. As soon as she heard of the usurpation of the Iron Throne, she and her dragon would have flown to King's Landing and would have burned them all.

When hearing Jace’s question, Daera’s head thought by its own, not sugar-coating anything. It thought this: Everything would be easier if she wasn’t in love with prince Aemond Targaryen.

To think that hurted her so much, her chest ached. Daera gulps and shakes her head from side to side, whilst her husband waits for an answer.

She smiles tinyly, looking at him.

-Had I continued walking down with Aemond…-, her eyes flickered for a second-…I’d be lost…-, she confessed within a whisper.

What hurted the most was that it is no lie, that it is no “if”. Daera Targaryen has been lost since she fell in love with Aemond Targaryen. How expensive that’s going to cost her.

-You…-, Daera takes Jace’s hands again, firmer than ever. Blinkless, he looks at her with determination and love. She gulps, wanting to cry, but not succumbing herself to it-. You are my right decision, Jace-. The princess declared with a stiff voice, looking into his brown eyes.

-Oh!-. In that moment, the prince breathed out with a huge smile, and a relieved expression. She gulps again and starts to smile as well, pampering his fingers with soft caresses-. I- I am glad to hear that-. He stutters. Daera softens her eyes, sighing while looking at him-. I was always afraid to ask; I was afraid you…you resented me-. He admitted, pressing his lips with embarrassment.

-What?-, she parts her lips, opening her eyes big.

-Hence why you- why you never slept with me-. Jacaerys stutters and shrugges, being honest with her.

-That’s not true-. Daera is quick to deny, shaking her head. She holds his hands stronger, nearing them to her chest. The brown-haired prince looks at her with heart-eyes, listening closely-. I would never, never resent you on Aemond’s behalf-. She promised with firmness-. I am not cruel…or stupid enough to do that-. Daera rolled her eyes.

Jacaerys showed his teeth, laughing tenderly. Unable to don’t too, Daera sighed and chuckled with him, closing her eyes. As soon as she did it, she saw Aemond’s face, so quickly opened them again, gulping.

Daera looks down, pressing her lips with a thoughtful gaze, under Jace’s loving one. Moments then, she breathed in and started to stand up. He quickly did so too, looking around and then at her again.

-They haven’t dined yet-. The princess spoke with a soft tone, staring at her golden awaked dragon. Jace quickly eyes Vermax, who purred, looking back at him.

-You’re right-. The prince nods, now tending all his attention to his dragon.

Daera blinks slowly, caressing Kalistrox while breathing in. She got lost on her mind, until he called her.

-Daera-, Jace named. When she turned around, got surprised when seeing him already on his saddle, ready to take flight-. Join me…-, his voice is tender and his smile a happy one, cocking his head towards the sky.

She smiles softly, looking at his brown eyes.

-I shall join you, in a minute-. The princess said-. You go ahead. I will put off the fire first-. She says, pointing at the flames with her purple eyes.

Narrowing his eyes with that smile still on his lips, Jacaerys nodded towards her, smitten.

-Sōves, Vermax-. The prince commanded him to fly with a soft mumble, patting his neck.

Within the seconds, the green dragon of yellow eyes took off from the woods, easily dodging the trees on his way, for he has the perfect size for it. Soon enough, the prince and his dragon were in the sky, looking for a proper supper for the majestic beast.

When she was left alone with her dragon, the princess Daera blinks in silence. Her eyes got lost in the humid mud, her hands on her abdomen.

Looking at the ground, she thinks of Aemond.

It feels the last time she saw him was ages ago, and it was far from a pleasing encounter. “Where do we stand now?”, she asks herself, worried and inevitably angry. He has been doing so bad, acting accord his family’s whishes and not taking hers in mind. What she said to Rhaenys before parting off Dragonstone is true; she wants to punish Aemond for his sick doings, for placing a rapist on the throne. She will, but…when? When are they to see each other again? Where, how? Is she to fly to Lovers Island and expect for him to go too? She cannot. What would they say to each other? Would he kiss her? Would he ask for forgiveness as soon as he sees her purple eyes again? Those that have always give him love and understanding. How could he have betrayed them? When will he be sorry for it? Because he will. She’s sure.

Caressing her belly, she thinks of Alyssa.

How is it that, in this world, things go on so quickly? One day she used to not see herself as a mother, then she wanted nothing but a child product of her love with her husband, then they agreed on it, the next day her husband made her to drink away that child. “How could it be?”. Daera dreamed, and lost her dream so fastly in the bat of a lash, the blink of an eye, the breaking of a heart. A babe was supposed to thrive on her royal belly, but it didn’t; perhaps the gods wanted so. “Fuck you gods then, and give me my child”, the princess cursed in her mind. Alyssa was conceived in Lovers’ Island. And the very next day, in that very same place, she was taken away.

Daera curves her brows, pressing her lips while she thinks in all of that. Feeling her deep sadness, and turning his head to look at her glum eyes, Kalistrox purred with sweetness, looking to comfort her.

-Please, don’t…-. His rider sighed with a tired voice when she heard him. The Golden Ray still purrs, lightly, as down as her. Daera shakes her head, squeezing her belly with her fingers-. You’ll make me cry, dearest…-, she said with unquietness, sniffing her nose, and forcing herself to draw her hands away from her belly-. I will not-, she declared.

He blinked slowly, looking at her. Daera straightens her shoulders, and blinks a few times; then she glanced at him.

-Jikãgon jurnegon syt issa (Go for your supper)-. The princess ordered raising her brows. Kalistrox growls lowly, eyeing the sky for a second and then at her-. Go!-, Daera pressed her lips when seeing him slowly standing up from the muddy ground. The golden dragon carefully lifts his wings, shaking his neck with a little doubt on his gaze-. You’re hungry-, she whispered.

After another low growl, Kalistrox opened his wings as big as possible, crawling a little away from there. Daera walks backwards with no hurry, stepping away from his thick tail. She crosses her hand over her belly, seeing him shaking his neck again with unquietness while looking at the multiple trees.

Moments then, The Golden Ray took off with one big flap from his wings, which lifted him up in the air within a second. His paw kicked the tall pines when flying across them. They wiggled like crazy. Their wood and sticks cracked, making the princess to look up with carefulness, watching that nothing fell on her.

Having learned from his difficult landing from before, Kalistrox took off with skilled maneuvers. He zig-zagged, as he has watched Caraxes do; no tree fell, and he headed towards the grey clouds while roaring out with sharpness and freedom, quickly getting away from the humidity. Inevitably, his rider looked up at him while siding a small smile.

-Smart boy-, she whispered to him along a little chuckle.

Daera is now by herself in this ugly, lush and lonely swamp. The princess looks down at the fire that still burns in the middle of the furs. While looking at it, the princess’ ears catch the sound of a nearby stream.

She made a pout with her lips, grabbed an empty jar they had use for their supper, and followed that sound with easy-going steps.

While walking, the princess thinks of how beautiful Lovers Island is. When the sun is not blessing it, a clear moon is. The sand is always white and warm, the waters fresh and sound. A kind breeze always blows softly towards their handmade hut, and in there their home is always waiting for them.

Daera tried to picture all that, but here, in this swamp. Many would think that it wouldn’t be the same at all, but the princess thinks it would be the very same. Lovers Island is beautiful, but its meaning does not fall on its beaches, sun and sand; but in the lovers that live there. This could very well be Lovers Swamp with no problem.

After chasing away a couple of curious frogs with her hands, Daera soon arrived at the place where that sound she followed came from. She arrives to a small river almost entirely covered by fog. In here are less crickets than in the other place, so it is quieter.

The princess keeps walking, grabbing the jar in one hand, and her own fingers in the other. She plans to take some water from the river, to go and kill off the fire, and then join Vermax and Jace in the skies. A flight would make her good right now, to be honest; she has a lot of stress to free.

But, postponing her task for a while, Daera stopped walking at the very shore of the river, and remained moveless. A cold breeze blows her dress and her curly mane, making it to bounce on her back. Her arms are loose to the sides of her body, applying no force. The fog in front of her gets sad when seeing her sad face.

Lighted by the cold white of the moon, Daera’s sleepless purple eyes stare at the nothingness while she gulps and presses her dry lips. Her gaze is lost, thoughtful, tired, sad and in the water.

They joy of having won three houses to their side in the half of a day remains in her with honesty; she’d never forget Jacaerys’ hopeful eyes every time that a lord or lady said yes to them. However, great part of her knows that they shouldn’t be even doing this. They are taking the bother to go house by house, knocking their doors and pleading for their support. “Who are they?” “Who are we?”.

Daera thinks how she and her husband have been going around the realm, like fucking beggars, having to give things in exchange to convince the Houses to fight and advocate by their side. It is ridiculous, to say the least! It its demeaning and degrading to go as so…

As future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera understand that exchanges, accords and betrothals are of great essence for the Iron Throne to keep good relations between the crown and its subjects. But we’re talking about war here, for the fuck’s sakes, not some feast or tourney, or wedding. Everyone should fight for the Blacks by law.

But no, here they are. They’ve licked Lady Jeyne Arryn’s cunt, given away Joffrey’s hand in marriage. The Houses are taking them as fools, it seems. And as the day goes by, Daera has been growing bitter and more bitter about it, not liking it one bit.

We are Targaryens.

The sound of a branch being stepped on brings the princess out of her thoughts. She blinks, still. Within seconds, two more branches crack, and then she detects the sound of footsteps in the mud.

After blinking again, Daera starts to slowly turn around. She turns her head with patience and a quiet expression, looking at what is behind her. And oh, gods be dammed, look at what we have here.

A group of five people has come out from the woods, arriving to the river with silent steps. There are three man and two women. They are all of small sizes; not dwarfs, but under the regular height of Westerosi people. They’re wearing clothes of colors similar to the swamp’s, fashion-less and ugly.

Perhaps that’s why they’re staring at her fancy expensive clothes and boots with lust.

Daera’s expression remains unfaced. She’s no longer sad, but calmed. She completely turns around, standing by the river’s shore, under the eyes of these ones.

-Good night-, she greeted with a polite tone.

-Good night-. One of the men greeted her, nodding towards her. We don’t know their names; we’ll call this one: Fuck.

-Beware, princess, there are many lion-lizards around these places-. Another of the men spoke, looking at her from feet to toe. He’ll be: Cunt.

Daera blinked and tilted her head lightly, instantly catching that they know she’s the princess. Great, no need to introduce herself then.

-Lion lizards?-. She gives them a confused smile, shaking her head.

-Dreadful beasts-. The third man raised his brows. This is: Dumb.

-Ah no, thankfully I haven’t seen none-. She kindly said-. But thanks for the warning-, her head tilts to a side whilst her hands meet on her belly.

Still, they keep getting closer, slowly but noticeable. Their steps are paused and marked, something she glanced at with tranquil eyes. Meanwhile, what they glance at is to the clothes and jewelry of the princess; her fine rings and leather dress must cost a fortune, not to speak about her white scalp.

Daera parted her lips when she sighed and scratched her forehead.

-Right…-, she mumbles with tiredness, nodding.

-Take off her clothes first, then do whatever you please-. One of the women spoke for the first time. How should be call her?

-She’s more worthy alive than dead, bitch-. Cunt spat to her. We’ll call her Bitch.

-Then don’t make her die, brute!-. The other woman spat back to him with an obvious tone, not even looking at him. This will be Dead.

Daera watches them all, person by person, looking at their steps and the manners of their hands. They’re armed, each of them with a rusty axe. She breathes in, looking at their faces again.

-Well, you’ve quickly made your intentions clear-. She sighed, making them to look at her with full amusement. A girl standing alone in a river, poor she thing-. Are crannogmen this direct then?-, Daera scrunches her nose, disappointed. Fuck and Dumb chuckled lowly, while Bitch twisted her lips with tediousness-. I like my men to entertain me-, she confessed whilst, under the enough darkness of the swamp, one of her hands so very slowly grabbed the handle of the dagger on her belt.

-I shall entertain you, princess-. Cunt growled with a smile. And it was here that he and Dead started to fastly walk towards her within a second, menacing. The others followed.

And within another second, Princess Daera got her dagger out of her belt, throwing it in the air. Its edge cut the wind sharply until it reached the middle of Dead’s eyes. The dagger crossed her skull and sliced her brains. The last thing she did was gasp, and then she fell hard on the floor, dead.

-Kalistrox, don’t come-. Daera whispered to the air, with a strand of white hair in the middle of her sight.

The other four cared naught about the fallen woman; they started running towards the princess. The closest was Cunt, who smiles while running.

Daera fastly leans to a side and scratches the river’s shore. Afterwards, she threw a handful of mud towards Cunt, who grunted when the heavy wet dirt ended up on his eyes and nose, making him to walk backwards.

-WHORE!-, a muted groan escaped his throat whilst he tried to wipe it all off his eyes.

-CUNT!-. Daera groaned as well, throwing more mud against Bitch and Dumb, but they dodged it and kept running to her with mad eyes. The princess laughs growly, unsheathing her sword.

-Don’t kill her!-. Bitch yelled with rage, and she ran slower when she saw the sword, getting a little scared. Fuck copied her.

Thus, Dumb kept running and became the closest to the princess, who took him off guard when making a savage expression with her face. The man, who cannot be older than twenty, furrowed his brows and, when he least expected, let out a loud and agonizing scream when a hand was cut from his body by her sword.

-AHHHH!!-, Dumb grabs his hand-less arm, looking at it with terror.

Daera laughs with great confidence, and that was her mistake, for the raged Dumb yelled with madness and grabbed her hair, pushing her with his remaining hand. The princess screamed, angry, and then she fell into the river’s deep shore, getting all wet by water and heavy mud. Her hand never left her sword’s handle.

-NO!-, Daera gasps in search of air, quickly sticking her head out the water.

Cunt had run to another part of the river as well, washing off the mud on his eyes while grunting with angriness. All the times that he found the strength to open his red and swollen eyes for a second, he glanced at the white-haired princess. He started to wash his face faster when seeing her falling into the river.

-GRAB HER HANDS, GRAB HER HANDS!-. Fuck yells quickly as he and Bitch ran to reach the princess.

-AHH!-. Remaining in the shore, Dumb breathes fastly while looking at his gone hand laying in the mud. He whines, staring at his bleeding wrist-. FUCKING BRING HER!-, he screamed to the river.

Daera breathed fastly, with her eyes blurry due to the water in them, but she saw something: those two small-sized beasts running towards her with more than evil intentions. She spat the water off her mouth, and took a deep breath.

Bitch runs faster when the princess’ head got dipped into the river from a moment to another. Fuck did so as well, yelling with rage when losing her out of sight.

-Fucking bitch! Where are you?!-. Bitch yells with alert, pushing all the water around her, wanting to hit the princess’ head by doing so, but she was far from her.

-Where are you?! WHORE!-. Fuck screams tauntly, licking his lips and smiling while from his mouth drops of saliva fall-. Fucking coward-, he mumbled with amusement.

-FIND HER!-, a scream was heard from Cunt, who’s walking to the shore near where they are. He pushed Dumb, who still cries for his hand.

Even though the screams continued, none was as loud as Fuck’s, who opened his mouth into a broken shriek when a sword suddenly cut his inner thighs and inner knees from a second to another, under the water.

-FU- FUUUCK! FUCK!!-. He yelled with extreme pain. Bitch quickly runs faster towards there, opening her eyes big when seeing the water turning red-. YOU- YOU…!-, he looks at the water around, harshly getting both his hands into it-. YOU FUCKING CUNT!-, he pulls something out.

Daera let out a pained screamed with her mouth open when Fuck suddenly pulled her out of the water, grabbing her by her hair. All her face and mane drips water while she roars with rage, looking at him, who roars back at her.

-BEAST!-, Fuck grabbed her hair into a fist, and his other hand slapped her strongly on one cheek.

-FUCK!!-, Daera roars. She holds her sword stronger, and head it right to his skull.

But Bitch appeared out of nowhere, arriving behind of her and taking both her hands prisoners into hers. Daera immediately screamed with rage, struggling against her grasp. Fuck grasped her legs the same way, trapping them, and that’s how the both of them began to carry her out the river.

-NO! NOOO! YOU WHORES, CUNTS, LET ME GO!-. The princess shrieks endlessly while dragged in the water-. YOU WEAK BEASTS, LET ME GO!-. Her yells never end.

-Bring her!-. Cunt waits for her in the shore with an ugly smile on his yellow teeth. Steps from him, Dumb is dizzy while looking at his bloody wrist.

-CUNTS!-, Daera grunts, not letting the river to take her sword away. She’s grabbing it tightly, while Bitch is incapable of taking it from her, for both her hands are busied in grasping hers to not let her go.

The princess was delivered to the shore, being harshly placed there. Within a second, Cunt grumbled and headed to her, going for the legs that Fuck fights against with a scrunched angry face.

While placing her in the ground, Bitch leaned forward in a way that made Daera’s eyes shine when she realized what she could do. Not losing time at all, the princess extended her neck up, opened her mouth, and then closed it along a wild roar. Daera bit the woman’s left breast, and squeezed it violently between her teeth.

Bitch let out a great scream, letting go her hands. Out of instinct she stepped away. At the same time, the princess wiggled her head ferociously from side to side; Bitch’s left nipple was torn from her breast by Daera’s harsh teeth, and then was spitted right into her face by the princess

The woman took six long steps back when she opened her mouth towards the sky to scream and cry with a pain none can even imagine. She grabs her bleeding teat, looking at it with extreme terror.

Oblivious to that, Fuck fights against the princess’s closed legs. She looks down there with rage, and opened her eyes big when seeing Cunt grabbing her knees with his big hands, and smiling up at her.

-No-, Daera’s voice trembles, and she realizes her hands are now free-. NO NO, STEP AWAY YOU CUNTS!-. She screams, about to slice them both in a half with her sword.

But a feet stepped on her armed hand, and a hand grabbed her other one. When she looks up, breathing fastly, she found Dumb’s handless wrist bleeding over her face. Daera immediately yells with pure rage, scrunching her nose and struggling even fiercer than before.

-Away!!-, Cunt pushed Fuck, taking his place in front of her. He squeezed her knees, and pulled them apart violently.

-FUCK!!!-, Daera struggled against him with rage, tears coming up to her eyes. Cunt grumbles when finding out the princess was wearing pants below.

-Queer bitch-, the man grunted, quickly pulling her dress’s skirt up, and beginning to break her pants with his bare hands.

Breathing fastly, Daera studies her surroundings within three second: Bitch whines for her lost nipple, rocking her breasts with agonizing pain. Cunt fights to take off her clothes, Fuck lines behind him with an excited evil smile, taking turn to rape her as well. Dumb steps on the hand she grabs her sword with, and grabs her other one while looking down at her. And, just a few steps from them, Dead lies dead with open eyes, with the dagger still on her forehead.

Daera blinks when feeling the drops of blood falling on her face from up. She looks up, and sees the Hand-less Dumb leaning towards her with a crazy smile while trapping her hands. Blinkless, he’s heading to kiss her lips.

And with these very lips of her, she spat harshly against his face from a second to another. The saliva that violently entered one of his eyes made Dumb to scream and to take a step away. He kept grabbing one of her hands, but: stopped stepping on the other.

Hissing, Daera dropped her sword, pulled the dagger out of Dead’s head, cut off Dumb’s remaining hand, and cut away the part of her dress Cunt was pulling away.

When the dress was cut and the pression of his pulling abruptly ended, Cunt gasped and staggered with no time to react. When her legs were free at last, the princess roared and kicked him with all of her strength and will.

Cunt fell right over Fuck, who yelled with pain when his bleeding thighs met the mud.

Daera heads the dagger to Dumb’s legs, and cut both his knees profoundly within a second, making a perfect line. The Handless man screamed agonizing-like, falling on his knees when being servant of the pain.

Before his knees ended right on her eyes, princess Daera fastly makes herself to a side, rolling in the mud. While doing so, she grabbed back her sword, never letting it go again. Dumb sobs with rage, going for her.

With a smooth rolling, Daera stood up from the mud within seconds and, as soon as she did so, she clashed her sword against Bitch, not even letting her to take a last breath. Bitch gasped before being sliced in a literal half by the princess’ sword. Her upper body fell hard on the ground, whilst her legs kept standing for a few more second.

After cutting Bitch in a half, Daera made a perfect circle on her feet and with her sword. Smoothly turning around, she slashed Dumb’s belly. Her angry expression faded away as soon as he died, when all of his bowels fell from his open abdomen. A stinking shit fell with them too; the princess stepped on it, and then cleaned her boots with Dumb’s face.

With dagger and sword now at hand, The Rogue Princess bloody face turns to look at the remaining two. The two that were planning to rape her.

Her breathing blows white strands of her disheveled hair. Blinkless and mouth-parted, she starts walking towards them, licking the blood on her lips.

When Cunt fell over him, Fuck couldn’t walk again. Pressed by the other man’s heaviness, he fell right on a big stone that crashed so hard against his lower back that it appears to have disconnected it from his legs, which are still cut and bleeding while he now drags himself away as quick as possible. Fuck whines and grunts as his elbows are the only thing helping him to move in the mud.

Meanwhile, Cunt is- well, he is running to her.

Daera turns around; her back collapses with his chest. He grunts and, before he could do anything with his rusty axe, the princess surprised him with a stab on his ribs. He gasps, opening his eyes big. Blinking two times while looking at the woods, Daera stabbed him two more times, in different places.

-Fucking…!-, airless, he gasped.

Letting out a sour chuckle, Daera suddenly starts to walk backwards with fastness. Cunt looks around with terror; the loss of blood tricked him bad, and he imagined the trees laughing and pointing at him whilst the princess pushes him with her own little body.

From a moment to another, Cunt felt he flew, and he did. For a second. He fell harshly on the river’s shore, dyeing the water with red. What’s weirdest is that the princess allowed herself to fall with him, only to then rise on her knees and stare down at him with hell-like eyes and evil twisted lips.

She grips her dagger tightly, closing her fist on it.

-I’m a Targaryen-, her honeyed though growly voice spoke while her hand slipped down his pants.

Her dagger swayed in the air, and then cut off Cunt’s hard erection. When his member was sliced off his body, the bleeding man screamed with pure pain, never taking his eyes off her. He saw her painted all in red, grabbing his bland chopped cock with a rogue glim on her eyes, and smiling to him within a blink.

-I’ll be taken as no fool-. The princess mumbled with rage, starting to fill his mouth of the mud around, filling even her own nails with it.

Cunt coughs violently as his throat and mouth gets clogged by dirt and water with no end. His eyes tears while he yells as louds as he can, desperately searching for air. Daera grunts, grabbing his head with a hand.

-Stay fucking quiet!!-, she grunted, dipping his face into the river.

Cunt struggles and kicks with despair, airless, swallowing both mud and water endlessly, nearly starting to cry blood. Whilst he grunts and tussle, the princess turns around her head. She sees the other one, Fuck, still crawling away. He’s already far, but she sees him. She hears him crying with horror, crawling away like a coward from his sliced thieves friends.

Daera presses her lips, pulling Cunt’s face out of the water. And before he could give his last breath for himself, the princess drew her dagger on his throat, and cut it with a clean move.

Cunt’s mouth dripped vomit, blood, mud and water. His eyes went blank, and his face dipped again in the water when the princess stood up and walked away from him, leaving his unliving body behind.

When Fuck hears steps near him, he turns around his head. Now, when he saw The Rogue Princess approaching to him with armed hands and raged mad eyes, he cried for his mother, and started to crawl and drag himself faster than ever, to no purpose.

Fuck tried to stood up while breathing fastly. Her knees trembled, but he was able to stand weakly. But before he could even think of running, a boo kicked his lower back violently and made him to fall back in the mud. He yelled loudly, with pain and terror. He turns around his head, finding the ugliest and most disturbing image of his life.

The white-haired brown-skinned princess, slouched to look directly at him, is bathed in blood and mud. Her chin, lashes and nose are dripping a red liquid that does not belong to her. Her teeth are stained on red too, as well as her jewelry and her chopped wrinkled dress. What disturbed him the most: the madness and pleasure that shines on the purple of her eyes.

The Rogue Princess grabbed his hair and pulled his head up with harshness. He gasps with pain, scrunching his lips while crying, feeling her breathing approaching to his neck.

-You’ll live a little longer-, Daera whispered with a growing smile.

Fuck screamed with terror, quickly silenced when the princess violently placed Cunt’s bleeding bollocks on his mouth and made him to chew on them.

■ ■ ■

Aemond and Vhagar’s flight was…a silent one. The breeze and the dragon’s breathing are one. Her wings flap quietly, her body soars calmly. The Queen of All Dragons, by all means, goes with tranquility, not worried by anything, neither ashamed of any doings.

On the other hand, the prince that rides on her back is not sharing her feelings at all. Vhagar might be serene, but Prince Aemond is a nervous wreck.

Lucerys has been slain.

Aemond’s only eye is blinkless. His gloved hands are held to his saddle with tension; his palms are sweating below the black leather.

He did it.

His hair is humid, priorly wet by the rain at Storm’s End. His lips are dry and constantly shaking.

He has killed him.

His heart has been beating with endless fastness for hours and hours. His teeth taste like iron; his tongue like blood.

He killed Luke.

Vhagar growls lowly when she sees the shores of King’s Landing already appearing in front of them. In trance, Aemond looks up from his saddle, staring front. When he saw the Red Keep from the distance, his heart stopped beating and his throat got afflicted within a second.

The prince breathes fastly, pressing his lips with anxiety. His dragon keeps flapping her wings, knowing she were to land in the beach nearest to the castle, where she always nests. But the closer they got to the heart of the capital; the more nervous Prince Aemond grew.

He knows his landing means one thing: his family will ask him how things went. He, then, shall tell them that: he won Lord Borros and House Baratheon to their side, he wooed Ellyn Baratheon, and made her his betrothed. And that he lost control of Vhagar, and got Lucerys killed.

Shamefully, he does not have the gut to tell them, at least not now.

The One-Eyed Prince parted his trembled lips and, within a second, he pushed his saddle down. Vhagar shook her neck; she immediately obeyed, and started to descend quickly, straying from the path towards King’s Landing.

Vhagar landed right in a high hill belonging to The Kingswood. It is night, and late, so no one is around nor near them. The green dragon lifted ton of dirt when she landed, when her wings flapped near the ground. She looked up to the white moon, with her small eyes.

As soon as she landed, Aemond breathed with unquietness while he started to fastly come down from saddle, quickly getting off his dragon’s back. He gets endless chills whilst climbing down the ropes; his altered eye stared at her belly only for a second.

Aemond’s feet landed harshly on the ground when he jumped away from Vhagar. He breathes in and out, in and out, fastly and anxiously. He feels his legs trembling, and his heart about to stop beating. Is this how it feels to die? Is his body preparing him for a feeling even worst than this?

“Gods. Gods. Gods”

The prince walks with shaky legs, looking all around at the trees with his eye filled of despair. His parted mouth breathes heavily, the same as how his chest feels. He doesn’t feel his arms, which are hanging to the sides of his body.

-Fuck-, he whimpered with a string of voice.

“Help me. Help me. Oh, please may the Gods help me”

Aemond couldn’t hold himself for much longer. He fell right on his knees, making them to clash against the dirt on the ground. The prince shrieks while he looks around, looking for some light. He hasn’t one thought on his mind and, at the very same time, a thousand of them.

He’s in shock; that it is. The shock on him is so big that he’s thinking that by calling the gods for help he’ll get out of this. Well, he won’t. He’s fucked, he’s condemned. And he knows it. He knows what this means, Aemond is no fool.

He knows this will bring war. What he does not know yet: he has brought the doom of his family as well.

The prince breathes in, shaky, slowly turning his head, looking over his shoulder. He stares at Vhagar, who looked back at him with tranquility and blinkless eyes. Kneeled, the one-eyed huffs a dry laugh.

-What have you done?-, he whispered. His eye stared to her belly, and he shivered when thinking that Luke and his dragon are both literally in there, dead and butchered-. Oh- oh Vhagar, what have you done?!-. His voice shook with disbelief, looking at her.

Vhagar does nothing but to growl lowly and calmly, looking back at him with no shame nor pity. Queen Visenya’s ancient fierceness shined on her former dragon’s eyes. Oh, if dragons could talk.

“I did what I wanted to”, Vhagar would say, “What you also wanted me to do”. She knows her rider is just blinded by fear, or whatever, right now, but the truth is that: her desires were the same as his when they were in the skies. “Are you a coward now?”.

“Imma kinslayer”, Prince Aemond told to himself while looking at Vhagar’s huge tum. Is that what he’s supposed to say to his family? Or is he to confess that he lost control of his own dragon, like an idiot? What is he to do? What- what is to happen now?

Aemond breathes fastly, heavily overwhelmed by the whole situation; he is not having one clear thought at the moment. He feels like a child again. He’s just scared, and he wants to cry.

The One-Eyed Prince turned his head again and, from this high hill, he stared at The Red Keep. His chest comes up and down whilst his only eye, teary, looks at there with not one blink in the middle. Tired and wary, he starts to close his lips. His family is in that castle.

Hours, the prince thinks. Is just a matter of hours for the Black to know about Luke’s death, about what Aemond has done, if they don’t know it already. Then, war will come.

“War. War. War”

It is imminent. It's inevitable now. There is no turning back, and now the war is getting closer. It's almost at the door of his house.

And, when thinking of this, prince Aemond twisted his lips with determination, ceasing their trembling. He growled as he stood up from the floor, and ran towards Vhagar with stiff feet and legs.

He is scared, yes, but he can't afford to stay here, worrying and crying, cursing his dragon's actions. His dear dragon. No. He will act, he has to. And he has to do it now.

-SOVES, VHAGAR!-. With a loud growl, Aemond commanded his dragon to fly, pulling her ropes tightly when he took seat on his saddle.

Quick to answer, Vhagar growled as well, and took off from The Kingswood with a big flap from her wings. They rose in the skies again, flying faster than before. Aemond breathes fastly, clenching his teeth and jaw.

Tears come up to his eyes and then they run down his cheeks, one after another and another after one. Fright and shock have been keeping his thoughts at a limit. He doesn't want to think too far into the future; He couldn't stand it.

So…

He forces himself to live in the moment, to go to protect his family.

He forces himself to not think of Daera and the hate he’ll won from her.

He forces himself to think that he’s still on time, that they can prepare for whatever that may come.

Aemond forces himself to pretend that he doesn't feel a pair of raged eyes on his neck at all times, crossing the entirety of the Blackwater Rush.

■ ■ ■

Daemon stands over an open window. A red gaze of his crosses the whole sea; there is rage on his purple eyes, immense. His chest comes up and down with a slow infuriated breathing. His fists are tight to the sides of his body, he has tears on his demonic eyes.

More than one cry is taking over the room he’s in.

Viserys and Aegon are crying on their cradles; their faces are red and their throats are shrieking, constantly babbling, in the need of tending and kisses. They’re so uncomfortable and unquiet; there’s a reason for that.

Their mother, Rhaenyra, is crying louder than them. Her palms are flat open in a wall. Her head shakes from one side to another whilst her mouth whines endlessly and her closed eyes tear up with no stop. The Queen cries with the worst pain of her life; her chest feels empty.

In Dragonstone, the sky is still dark, but it is almost dawn, so a new day has arrived. All that can be heard around the castle is the crying coming from Queen Rhaenyra’s chambers, from her very self. Every lord, servant and knight either shivers or looks down every time a scream makes echo through the walls.

A dark cloud has been casted on Dragonstone, when news of Prince Lucerys’ death reached his parents’ ears.

-Luke!-, a broken sob comes out from Rhaenyra’s mouth. She cries brokenly, curving her brows and lifting her face towards the ceiling, looking at it with swollen eyes and a trembling open mouth-. Why?-, she whispers sorrowful. To only imagine it, her boy- her son…killed with no mercy-. FU- UCK!-, she cried with a torn heart, screaming loudly.

Master Gerardys had to quickly fetch something to make Prince Joffrey to fall asleep, for the boy became mad when he heard that his brother, Luke, had been murdered by their own uncle, the prince Aemond.

Joff cried less than his mother, but that was only because he busied himself with trying to escape the guards’ arms when wanting to take Tyraxes and fly himself to avenge his brother. With a mouth resembling his step-father and older sister’s, Joff swore a terrible oath of vengeance against Prince Aemond and even Lord Borros. Only the intervention of Ser Erryk kept the boy from mounting his dragon at once.

It was the same with his sister, the princess Rhaena.

-My baby…-, Rhaenyra sobs with a shaky voice, afflicting her throat.

In The Chamber of the Painted Table, when the news was announced, Rhaena fell from a chair to her knees, screaming, crying and whining so loudly that it waked the whole island entirely. Some even searched for some wound, cut or tumor in her, to see if it was that she was burning from within.

Rhaena screamed with so much pain, and squeezed her own chest with so much sorrow, feeling her heart being plucked away from it with no mercy, just as Luke’s probably was too. She cried the name of her brother, her betrothed, four times. After the fourth cry, her father ordered Maester Gerardys to sedate her too, and so he did.

Prince Daemon looks outside with lips trembling of rage, and eyes flickering of grief. His nose is sweating endlessly, and his mouth is dry. Every second he thinks of different moments of Lucerys. Training on the beach, laughing with his siblings, asking him to help with his saddle. Every second he thinks of different ways of murdering Aemond. Tie him barefoot on stones in fire, slicing off his cock and making him to eat it as his last meal, watch him burn.

Queen Rhaenyra squeezes her belly with one hand whilst the other remains flat on a wall; is the only thing keeping her steady while she cries her soul out. Her feelings are indescribable; no mother should go through this. With the blur of her tears, she can only see him. As a babe, as a child, as a young man. He has been taken away from her…he’ll never be grown up. Her boy. Her sweet boy.

You may be wondering where does Princess Baela stand, in all this. Well then, if you must.

The princess left the Chamber of the Painted Table with swift steps, airless. She reached her dorms, staggering, where she was free to yell as much as she wanted. She fell flat on her bed and cried until ending voiceless and with a sore throat.

She didn’t believe it.

Caraxes, Syrax and Moondancer’s shrieks were constantly heard very near the castle, startling the servants many times. They’re furious too.

Baela cried, but not for long, for now she finds herself walking with firmness and quickness through the castle’s hallways. There are dry tears on her swollen purple eyes, tears that she slapped away from her with angry growls. She is in denial, and scolded herself for her crying.

Soon, the princess arrived to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s chambers. She opened the doors within a push, walking into it with rage and despair. Before the harsh sound of the doors, Daemon looked over his tense shoulder and Rhaenyra lifted up her red face. Viserys and Aegon went silent.

They find Baela with a lifted chin and shoulders.

-Baela…-, Rhaenyra sobbed her name with weakness, looking at her from feet to toe. She looked at her, and her lips trembled when seeing her step-mother’s red sorrowful face.

-I come not to mourn-. The princess spoke harshly, shaking her head. Daemon starts to turn around fully, staring at her with wide red eyes of attention-. My brother is not dead-. She declared with a stiff lip, serious.

Rhaenyra sighed shakily, staring at her with curious eyes of sadness, and tilting her head to a side while heading both her hands to her flat belly. Daemon, blinkless, listens to his daughter too.

-This is not Luke’s end!-. Baela’s loud voice trembled when saying his name. Nyra’s lips shook too, though her head began to nod, slowly-. Not in the hands of a deranged wretch-, she mumbled with decision, shaking her head-. Let us look for him-. She decided.

-Look for him?-, Daemon fastly repeated with his sharp loud voice.

-Look for him!-. His middle daughter nodded with the same sharpness. Hopeful, Rhaenyra caresses her belly, and begins to nod with tiredness.

-Baela…-, his father mumbled, almost ashamed. He fears their hope, for it can only bring more pain to them-. They said th-

-Then you have been misled!-. She quickly cut his words, yelling with firmness. Daemon closes his lips, serious. He hums lowly, looking at the both of them with thoughtful sour eyes.

-Yes…-, a weak whisper came out from Rhaenyra’s lips. Her husband looked at her, and his gaze automatically became softer. She breathes in with deepness. Pain and decision on her eyes-. Yes-. She spoke firmer than before, letting go her belly.

-We’ll find him-. Baela approached to her with decision, holding one of her hands. Rhaenyra sobs and looks at her with curved brows, nodding with the same conviction.

-We’ll leave at dawn-. Queen Rhaenyra declared.

The three share a look between them, decided, but none of the two women dared to ponder the question “What if we don’t?”.

Nevertheless, prince Daemon stood tall, and walked towards them with slow harsh steps, staring at the both of them. Baela gulped, holding Rhaenyra’s hand tighter.

-Whatever the come out, the Greens’ bloodline will end on our dragons’ bellies, their heads on our shelfs…-. He speaks with poison and sourness. His wife’s lips tremble, whilst his daughter nodded, bitter as him-. We will breathe fire, and drink blood-. The prince madly declared.

He approaches to the both of them, with his irritated eyes shining with blood and vengeance thirst. He narrows his eyes.

-Gaomagon ao emagon zire isse ao?-. The Rogue Prince asked, filled of wrath.

[Do you have it in you?]

■ ■ ■

Back to The Neck, Vermax landed on firm ground, growling lowly. His rider, the prince Jacaerys, landed him near where they were camping before, as he calculated before coming down.

Coming off from his saddle, the prince sighs tiredly, patting his dragon’s back.

-I am sorry, Vermax-. He whispered with shame and pity, caressing him. Vermax growled with tediousness, closing his eyes and shaking his neck.

Sadly, there are no sheep nor mutton or cows in swamps, so the search for dinner for the dragons was a total fiasco. Vermax hungers, and it seems that he’ll have to wait until arriving to Winterfell and see what can be offered to him.

Jacaerys sighed heavily, petting him. As he saw, Kalistrox is still in the skies with Daera. They did not exchange words or glances as they flew, as each one was focused on their dragon's supper.

-Alright-. The prince sighs, starting to walk with full calmness. His dragon, purring, follows him slowly-. I know you’re tired but at least help me to…-, as he goes walking and looking front, Jace starts to furrow his brows, cutting his own words-…lit back the fire?-. He mumbles.

He was planning to lit a new fire. But as he approached to where they were before, he realized the fire was still lit, just as he left it. Jace tilts his head to a side with confusion, keeping approaching, and wondering if he was wrong.

When being closer, and seeing their furs and bedsheets, he knew he hasn’t wrong. This is their fire, which confused him, for Daera told him she’d stay to turning it off, and the she’d go up with Kalistrox. Now she’s up there with Kalistrox, he thinks, but the fire is still here.

As Jacaerys approaches to the camp, he noticed a piece of luggage that wasn’t there before, big and lumpy, too big to seem like one of theirs. The prince approaches with slow steps and curious eyes, staring at the luggage as he walks by it.

Jacaerys takes three more steps, looking at it with confusion and mistrust. Only seconds then is that he got to look at it from the front.

And right at that moment, the “luggage” came to life. Vermax squealed whilst Jacaerys gasped when they realized it was a man with his hands and feet tied that struggled against the ropes with despair and fear.

-Ah!-, Jace steps back with quickness; he’s shocked and scared, with his eyes wide open. He breathes fast, seeing all the blood that man is covered with. The man’s screams and pleadings of help are muted by some bloody hairy bollocks on his wide mouth.

The man, Fuck, cries and struggles with terror, moving like a worm in dirt. The prince Jacaerys breathes very fastly, as confused as grossed out, looking at him with wide eyes. Steps are heard near them. Fuck tried to yell loudly to the boy, kicking his feet and looking like he was…trying to warn him about something? …Someone.

-Nyke emagōn pōja havor [I found their supper]-. A taunt mumbling voice spoke behind him.

Jace turns around with frighted eyes. He afflicted his throat strongly, for his eyes automatically traveled to the ground, and in there he found more “pieces of luggage”. More bodies. But these are not alive, as the other one. They’re butchered people, long gone.

Dumb. A man with no hands, bleeding his wrist out; his belly all open, hence his organs on the floor, and his face stained by shit. Dead. A woman with a hole in the middle of her eyes, which are open. Cunt. A man that has no upper body, for neither his torso, arms chest or head are to be found; in the middle of his legs there’s no cock. Bitch. And another woman, literally sliced in two. Her legs are chopped like fresh ham, whilst her upper body lacks a nipple in one of her breasts; instead, is between her lips, soaked in blood.

Jacaerys breathes slowly and deeply, with eyes of fright and marvel, not believing his sight. Feeling his heart beating crazily, his brown orbs slowly began to look up, following a tread of blood from the cock-less body.

Soon, he comes to the sight of his wife standing over a rock. Her hand is holding another, that belongs to the upper-body to the cockless man. His throat is sliced, and his face stained with vomit, blood and mud; his eyes closed, his hand hold to hers.

Daera is bathed in red dirty blood, her pants and dress are torn, and her hair disheveled and wild. Her hands are bloody, so are her arms, so is her neck, her mouth, her teeth, her cheeks, forehead and her pupils. Little of that river of blood is hers.

There is a terrifying calm in her eyes, which are staring at him endlessly. Slightly swinging the corpse whom she holds hands with, Daera looks at Jace amidst all the blood that paints her eyes. Blinkless, she's breathing slowly.

Mouth-open, Jacaerys’ chest comes up and down. Mesmerized and terrified, he looks at his wife from down, not even smelling the blood, neither hearing the man’s pleadings and struggles. The prince merely blinks, shocked by the sight in front of him, the sight of her.

Unfazed by her blood-dripping face, The Rogue Princess looks back at him with easiness; a glim of taunt in her eyes. She sniffed her nose.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #lucerys velaryon #the dance of the dragons #daemon targaryen father

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camilbarnessss · 4 months

Text

- P O V

You're both at a party and Ewan goes for a kiss after taunting you

( you head to an empty bedroom afterwards )

#ewan is so hot #ewan mitchell #targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #the dance of the dragons #hotd season 1 #hotd season 2 #pov

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camilbarnessss · 4 months

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 14 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constabt swraring, angst, explicit murdering, death, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

《 The Fight Above Shipbreaker Bay 》

. . .

-This is no conversation, Daera! These are accusations, insults, profanity!-. Aemond said loudly, hearing the dragons growl lowly, which he ignored-. “Injustice, disrespect, rawness” you say! You speak of those words as if they had not been tormenting me since the day I began to breath!-, he screamed furious and painfully.

She blinked openly, showing how confused she was, at which he dryly scoffed to.

-That is the problems with you blacks. You do not listen, you do not reach for information, you do not understand, you take everything for granted!-, his eyebrows curved angrily as he shouted-. You blame me of stealing with no consequences, but I am the one half-blinded after I made something for my sake-, he sourly murmurs, almost trembling, looking at her right in the eye-. And nobody moved a finger but my mother, nobody but her saw the injustice committed towards me-. Aemond gulped harshly-. You, questionless, did not…-, he whispered.

. . .

-You and your sisters fought me to defend your mother’s memory, to defend her on her very funeral’s day. I can grow to understand that-. The prince nods several times, caressing her fingers. She looked at him, seeing the sourness on his eye-. But Jace and Luke, everything they did, even that fucking night…they did it because they thought I did not deserve it-, he slowly whispered, resting his forehead on hers.

. . .

Luke raised from the sand from an instant to another, letting a wild scream out, and dragging the dagger all over his uncle’s face.

The scream Aemond let out at that moment made all the others to scream too, seeing how a river of blood rose in the air and he fell on the floor like a corpse, holding a side of his face in the middle of loud grunts and a fast breathing.

Aemond cried in disbelief, feeling the worst pain of his life, feeling how the sea turned into the blood that ran through his fingers with no stop.

. . .

-I have no word in what I am! I!-. Aemond points himself with desperation, shaking on his place-. They talk, and talk and talk about what I am! But is due to what HE made me be!-, he shouts brokenly, hitting his own chest.

-Who?!-, Daera furrows her brows, not giving herself time to think.

-LUKE!-. The One-Eyed Prince named him with poison in his mouth and hate in his saliva, and when she heard him, Daera afflicted her throat and closed her mouth, tensing instantly-. He is the reason why everyone talks about me! Will you deny it?!-, he accuses, tilting his head strongly.

-Will you really blame him for all of those wretched who don’t know to mind their own business?!-, Daera snorts opening her arms at the sides of her body, looking angry at him.

-Well who do you think made me a wretched in the first place?!-. Aemond shouts with a fake smile, approaching to her again and letting her see his pained eye being lighted by the near bonfire. Daera gulps, looking up at him-. Why do you think is so funny for them to mock me?! A Targaryen prince, yes! But a maimed one! Who maimed me?!-, he asks fiercely, knowing the answer so well-. Or are you blind too, as well as everyone else, hmm?-, he accuses, feeling his heart ache.

. . .

Daera and Aemond stopped walking in the very gates when seeing them staring at them in that way. Their faces said it all. Luke has talked. He told them all.

The princess shook her head, opening her lips and letting out a lot of air, bemused, not believing this was happening. The one-eyed gulped so sourly, nailing his only eye in Lucerys, and staring at him with a touchable hate and resentment, wrinkling his lips harshly.

. . .

Daera’s hands reached his, and he cried holding them tight and nearing them to his face, lying his forehead on them while crying and sobbing endlessly, not wanting to never let them go. To never let her go.

-Daera?-. A shy voice called her from behind, far, so low. And that was Luke.

He was in the door of Viserys’ chambers, with Jace by his side, both of them staring at her with worriness.

Daera did not listen, and kept staring to the sun, crying silently. But when he heard that voice, when he heard him talking, when he heard them breathing…

Aemond suddenly stopped sobbing, lifting his head and tensing his shoulders up, inhaling deeply, feeling that it was poison what he breathed. From behind, Jace and Luke saw him fixing his posture, in such a macabre way, like he turned into a different person right at the moment they spoke. He became a monster, and they saw it starting to turn around.

The Bastard Brothers. The ones to completely blame. Again. Time after time, screwing his life. They gave him a pig. They mocked him. Lucerys stole his eye. Lucerys told everyone. Jacaerys claimed his love as his. Jacaerys stole his wife. They have ruined the only thing that makes him to truly feel alive.

The One-Eyed Prince turned around, hurriless, making them to slowly see his face. His red face, wrinkled with pain and dolor, soaked with tears and poison, painted by injustice and abusiveness. All, caused by them.

Aemond stared at them with thirst of vengeance, his superior lip trembling, and a hate on his only eye that would never go away as long as he was staring at them.

Luke shivered whole, taking a step back with fear, while Jace opened his mouth with real perturbation, not having ever seen an uglier expression never before.

. . .

-AND HERE WE GO, defending them again!-. Aemond laughs with no fun.

-“Strong boys”?! Are you fucking shitting me, Aemond?!-. Daera moves her head from side to side, bemused-. Do you know what my father would have done to you?!-, she asks, scared and angry.

-Daera- FUCK!-, the prince yells, raged, feeling his whole body trembling. The fury caused by hearing Daera defending the brats I sone that is beyond compare-. That is the problem, that something happens to the ones that say the bloody truth!-. Aemond roars, filled of despair-. The have you…as their fucking marionette, defending the indefensible-. He taunts with poison.

-Shut the fuck up, Aemond-. She warns, raising her brows. His blood only boils hotter.

-No but they deserve so much more than what I said…Those fucking whore’s bastards-. Aemond spits his words, narrowing his eye, and making his wife to shiver strongly-. I…-, he shakes his head-…I want to set them on fire-. He whispered.

-Aemond-. She gags, breathless-. Take that back-, the princess mumbles, not blinking once, feeling her heart stopping before the nightmare that flashes in front of her eyes.

He, though, dreams with that nightmare to be true.

-I want to crush Jace’s skull, with Ser Criston’s morningstar-. Aemond whispers, filled with poison, looking at her. Daera gasps, curving her brows, horrified-. I want to collect everything they owe me-. The prince assures.

-I DARE YOU!-, she shakes with rage and fear, lifting up her brows. She them, wondered herself why she is feeling that much fear. Does she…believe him capable?

-I want to take an eye out of Luke’s face-. Aemond goes whispering, singing, almost smiling to himself while his wife gasps stopless, choking with her own saliva.

-If you put a hand in him…!-, she cries, covering her mouth while the tears pass it.

-Every time I see him, Daera, I just wished I was maiming him until blindness, to leave him so emaciated that not even a sapphire would fit there…-. This was his calmest tone of the night, yet so bone-chilling, and gross.

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. The princess screamed, attacking him with his own raving question. That made Aemond’s tears to fall faster, and his gaze to fill with surprise-. You- YOU LIVE FOR VENGEANCE! Son of a bitch, YOU LIVE WITH HATE!-, she accuses, hurted.

. . .

Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

■ ■ ■

A thunder strikes loudly right in Luke’s ears. He flinched with a little gasp. Though that was not at all the first thunder he heard since he departed Dragonstone, he still pressed his lips with unquietness, looking around.

And after a second thunder, the grey clouds around him started to get thinner. Just seconds later, his blue eyes found the view of a great edification made in the very shore of the sea, tall, grotesque and round. Storm’s End, at its finest, with a great deal of thunder drumming around it.

Lucerys holds his saddle’s handles tighter, feeling a turbulence on Arrax as they started to descend towards mainland. The prince gulps and feels his mouth dry, forever looking at the castle that he’s arriving to, one that is not expecting for him.

Our brown-haired princeling flew for too many hours already. This is a great flight he has made, for is very much longer than the “longest” flight he had made before this, which was from Dragonstone to King’s Landing. Now that is nothing compared against this. His hands are tumid, and his cheeks are freezing. What he’d give to have a bonfire right now.

Even though his flight was long, his feelings never changed. The boy is uneasy, nervous and anxious. He has never treated with a lord nor personally nor privately. His mother swore to him for this errand to be easy, but he still doesn’t know what to expect from it. These airs…he doesn’t like them.

He flew around the castle, arriving by its left side. Soon, he and his dragon reached the castle’s patio, where there were six guards on the gates, standing firmly. Arrax landed with swiftness, growling, and relieved that he has brought his rider to safety after such a savage flight.

Lucerys’ mother also promised a very warm welcome, but…when his dragon landed, those six knights barely blinked, as if they were used to see such a beast every day. Luke couldn’t help but to feel a little out of place, and ashamed. However, hearing Daemon’s voice on his head, he said to himself that he was not here to be praised nor clapped at.

Lightning was flashing from the east and a heavy wing blowing on Lucerys as he leapt off his dragon, his mother’s message clutched in his hand. He jumped off his saddle, landing on the ground with a firm posture. He wears the red cape Daera once gifted him, from one of her trips to the capital, and black gloves that were also gifted by her. The cape flies in the wind, whilst the gloves protect his hand from it.

As he started to walk, the prince sweetly caressed his dragon’s neck, silently farewelling him. The guards see that child approaching to them with nerves that he thought he was hiding well.

Guardsmen walking the battlements of the castle’s mighty curtain walls clutched their spears in sudden terror when a roar shook the very foundations of Durran’s Defiance. Prince Lucerys gasped, opened his eyes big and quickly turned around when hearing it too. Even Arrax quailed before that sound.

Luke felt his knees failing him for a second as he looked up at The Queen of All Dragons rising her head behind the castle’s walls. She growled, mouth-opened, and shook her long neck, making her roar to echo in all Storm’s End. The boy breathes shakily, in shock for some seconds.

He knows what Vhagar’s presence means. Aemond is here. Luke’s first intuition was to run. Oh gods, didn’t he want to run, to climb back on his dragon and quickly fly away back to Dragonstone. But he quickly demolished his own desire. And what would he tell, when returning home? That he saw Vhagar and got scared? That he decided to better return when “is safer”? Heavens. As if he needs more babying from Rhaenyra and Daera.

No. He will stay. And he will do as he was told to.

After gulping, Luke looks away and keeps approaching to the knights. They look at the boy, finding blue eyes and red cheeks. Nervous lips but brave eyes.

-I am prince Lucerys Velaryon!-. He announced himself, looking at the six of them-. I bring a message to Lord Borros from the Queen!-. Lucerys told them with firmness.

Out of the six, two nodded and turned around at the same time, starting to march towards the gates of the castle. Doubtlessly, the prince followed them, not before glancing again to the green old dragon, who growled lowly from her place.

■ ■ ■

Prince Aemond has chosen a wife.

He shall marry Ellyn Baratheon, fourth and younger daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon and Lady Elenda Caron. Of twenty-and-one, she’s a fine lass of brown hair and blue eyes, as every Baratheon ever is. She’s boring, gossipy and fearful.

During today’s breakfast that was hold on the prince’s honor, he got to meet all four daughters of Lord Borros. Prince Aemond took no liking in any of them.

Cassandra, the eldest, was stubborn and disinterested. When left alone with the prince, she clarified she wanted to be no wife of no one. She declined any proposal before they could even talk. Aemond thanked the gesture, and didn’t cross any more word with her.

Maris. The second daughter. A pain in the ass. She had always wanted to marry into royalty, which was why she was trying so hard to impress the prince upon she being the perfect choice. She danced a piece in front of him and showed off her embroidery skills. The one-eyed yawned discreetly behind his sleeve, which brough her face to fire. They never talked again.

Floris. Well, she began their conversation by immediately asking him if his brother has ever considered to take a second wife, as his forebear did. Aemond quickly ended that conversation, irritated.

And…Ellyn. Boring, gossipy and fearful, as we said before. Nevertheless, the most tolerable among her sisters. But- oh but c’mon, this was no life-changing choice for Aemond. There’s no deep feeling or gut behind his choice. He wasn’t looking for a perfect wife. He wasn’t even looking for a one! Because he already has one…and she’s already perfect, the gods bless her soul.

The subject Ellyn speaks about the most is about children; she can’t wait to have kids of her own. Recently having lost a child himself, prince Aemond found comfort when imagining Daera with a bulged belly, caressing it while smiling to him. That image, as we know, is purely fictional, so then it brought him pain.

However, he picked Ellyn, because one of the four it had to be. He highly respects women, as we know. Criston taught him since he was little. But gods, weren’t these girls annoying? When it was announced who the prince had picked, Maris turned green of jealous, resenting the one-eyed. Ellyn cheered, but always trying to avoid to look at his patch. She has barely looked to his face.

Now, with lunch still to be served, they are reunited in the Round Hall of Storm’s End. Among the people here, we can mention prince Aemond, Lord Borros, his four daughters, septon, and maester, and twoscore knights, guards and servants. Also, among those who witness the meeting was Ser Bryon Swann, second son of Lord Stonehelm in the Dornish Marches, and a northern man called Golen Glover, who would have his own small part to play later between us. Soon enough, this latter one would have left in the middle of the reunion, for it was time for him to, as a task of his had already been done. The lord dispatched him with gladness.

Past morning hours, they’re all in the hall whilst haggling over dates and dowries for the upcoming wedding between the Targaryen prince and the Baratheon Lady. Aemond is in the hall’s left, dressed in black as always, with his hands crossed behind his back. Ellyn is right by his side, always silent and with a bored expression on her face.

While the preparations are discussed by the others, on one moment prince Aemond blinked, and lost his eye on the floor, thinking of something. He recalls -for perhaps the tenth time in the day- that today is the twins’ nameday. Shouldn’t he be here for the sake of his family, he’d be with Jaehaera and Jaehaerys doubtlessly. They’d be together, laughing and celebrating, with Helaena and with…and with Daera, the children’s loving aunt.

Everything going on is interrupted when a lonely guard arrives running to the hall, a little agitated. Everyone immediately looked at him. Aemond stared up at the man, serious and confused.

-My Lord-, the knight quickly greets Lord Borros who, from his seat, scowled at him with curiosity-. A dragon has landed on the castle yard-. He informed.

Aemond’s eye opened widely and slowly, looking at the knight with coldness. His heart instantly stopped, immediately knowing it was not a dragon from his family.

-Who is it?-, Lord Borros asks with annoyance, not pleased that the talk about his daughter’s betrothal had been interrupted.

-I could not say, my lord, but the rider is being escorted here as we speak-. The guard quickly answered. After licking his lips, Borros grunted and dispatched with a hand movement.

Aemond blinks slowly, looking at the floor. Lord Borros turned his head to look at him with wide eyes of interest.

-Is any familiar of yours joining us this noon?-. He questions with his hoarse yet loud voice.

The prince, as silent as a snake, slowly turns around on his feet, showing his back to everyone else and hiding his face when looking down. He blinks harshly, feeling a great nerve when thinking that this might be Daera. Oh fucking hells, it is Daera. She’s her family’s eldest, of course they’d sent her here. They are to meet then. Now, here! While they discuss his future marriage.

“Are the gods laughing at my from the heavens? Wouldn’t be their first time doing so”. Aemond gulps strongly, with a weight on his heart while thinking of his wife. The last time he saw her…he made her to drink a Moon Tea, and threatened her siblings’ lives with obscure desires.

-That he is a relative of mine, do not doubt it-. Prince Aemond’s silky voice speaks as he’s still turned to them-. But do not cheer, my lord. What comes may not be wedding congratulations-. He mumbles with slowness, gulping at last.

Lord Borros furrows his brows with expectance, staring at the open doors of the hall. Aemond gulps again, feeling his heart beating fastly, his hands starting to sweat, his eye nearly wanting to cry.

-Prince Lucerys Velaryon!-

And, when that name was announced, Aemond’s heart immediately stopped beating. His eyes opened wider, and his body tensed up completely, within a second. Fear and nerves automatically abandoned him as he started to turn around again. Hate and rage took their place.

He was wrong. They didn’t send Daera…

Aemond turned around with slowness and delicacy, staring at the newly arrived prince. And when he saw him, Luke became frozen.

They sent one of the bastards instead.

-Son of princess Rhaenyra Targaryen-, the guard announces.

Lucerys doesn’t believe his eyes. He almost has a heart attack when suddenly finding his uncle just steps from him, in the very hall, under the same roof, under the same thunders and lightnings.

All anxiousness from before were forgotten by Aemond. As sneaky and tauntly as ever, he stares at the boy from feet to head, using his only eye, and nearly poking him with it. For the first time in his life, Aemond feels joy seeing Lucerys. Well, um…let us call it joy.

When a thunder strokes, Luke forced himself to look away from there. Even though his little hands are now sweating below his gloves, he tells himself that here his uncle can’t hurt him, and won’t.

-Lord Borros…-, the boy names. From his seat, Lord Borros look at him with a cold and bored expression, already tired of his presence. Aemond looks at the lord too, delicately, blinking slowly, reading his face-. I brought you a message from my mother…the Queen-. He stresses, fearlessly and bravely.

Aemond presses his lips, humming lowly when thinking of the whore of Dragonstone.

-Yet earlier yesterday, I received an envoy from the King-. Borros answers, briefly raising his brown brows-. Which is it? King or Queen?-. He wonders. With his lips-parted, Luke quickly glanced at Aemond, who’s looking back at him without even blinking-. The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it!-. He pointed, and then laughed at his own joke, finding it hilarious. By his right, Maris snorted lowly, not finding him funny at all-. What’s your mother message?-. The lord asks with harshness, almost tauntly.

Without flinching, Lucerys raised a hand that held the paper Rhaenyra gave him before departing. A guard grabbed it, and took it towards Lord Borros. Meanwhile, the princeling again looks to his uncle, who rarely now was looking down, to the floor. There’s a brown-haired woman standing at his side. He hasn’t looked at her once.

Never a man of letters, Lord Borros grew impatience when who is supposed to read his messages didn’t make act of presence.

-Where’s the bloody maester?!-. He then shouts, looking all around. A lord from his court immediately nodded and shot out running to look for the maester.

The only thing heard is the wind.

Aemond stares at his nephew, back again, smelling his fear. Luke is frightened of him, he always has. And, oh, isn’t this a dream? The bastard alone, in a foreign land he doesn’t know. The only person of here he knows is one that has dreamt, since childhood, to slay him.

Lucerys, with great bravery, stares back at his uncle too, never flinching, but blinking. Aemond doesn’t. After some silent seconds, the little prince clutches his hand to his sword’s handle, below his cape.

The One-Eyed Prince remembers the last time they saw each other, when the boy snickered recklessly when a roasted pig was placed in front of him. Actually, the one-eyed remember everything that the bastard has done to him, every time they meet.

The maester, at last, arrives, running. Cassandra rolled her eyes at him. The old man is quick to take the paper, cracked the seal, and read the message destined to Lord Borros, who awaited with furrowed brows. Noticing some doubt on his maester’s eyes, the lord became uneasy.

Oh, and when being whispered to his lordship’s ears, a frown stole across his face, and his chest came up and down while his expression was an offended one.

-“Remind” me of my father’s oath?-. He speaks slowly, wanting to know if he had understood correctly. Luke remained as silent as a wall, not having expected to be talked at that way-. King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact!-. Lord Borros shouts angrily, pointing at the couple of the room.

Ellyn looks at the boy with certain dullness, not entertained by his presence. On the other hand, the man besides her glares at that child with a passionate rage on the only eye he has. She can almost hear the violent thoughts he’s having.

-If I do as your mother bids…-Lord Baratheon leans front on his seat, staring at the princeling-…which one of my daughters will you wed…boy?-. He harshly asked, looking at his left, where Cassandra -grossed out-, Maris -nearly hopeful-, and Floris -serious- turned to look at him in silence.

-My lord…-. Prince Lucerys could only blush-. I am not free to marry-. He replied, thinking of Rhaena’s purple eyes and kind hands-. I’m already betrothed to my sister Rhaena-. The prince declares, looking sideways the cursed place of the hall.

Aemond is blatantly amused, with a cocky smirk on his lips as he senses the lord’s great reject to his half-sister’s poor leadership skills. That filthy whore. Uf, not to even mention her bastard’s clear lack of politics knowledge.

-So you come with empty hands-, Lord Borros says slowly, nodding-. Go home, pup!-. He tells, whilst prince Lucerys looked down with parted lips, instantly thinking how he has failed his mother, how disappointed she’ll be when learning House Baratheon does not stand with them-. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes!-. He spoke with severe harshness, making himself known offended.

Lucerys gulps, breathing in deeply.

-I shall take your answer to The Queen, my lord-. The boy agreed, stressing that word as if his life depended on it.

Prince Aemond breathes in with deepness and slowness, blinking lightly. His blood boils even though his lips smirk. Alicent is the Dowager Queen. Helaena is Queen, if anything. They are the true female monarchs at moment.

Luke turns around, starting to leave the Round Hall.

The Blacks go around saying whatever they want about people, naming whoever they want as they want, however they want and…without consequences ever.

At Aegon’s Coronation, the lives of his family were severely put in danger by Rhaenys and her attack in The Dragonpit. She killed dozens, harmed thousands, destroyed half the building’s floor and attempted against their well-being when placing her dragon right by their faces. Her dragon roared a war cry and left them frightened…with no consequence.

“My brother is King now”, Aemond realizes. Everything has changed, the course of history itself. Viserys -the cunt- is no longer here to protect and shield anybody from the consequences they deserve. “The bastard, oh…”. The bastard must taste justice for the first time in his life.

-Wait!-. The One-Eyed Prince’s voice filled the hall. Lucerys stopped walking, turning around-. My lord Strong…-, he beautifully says, with his arms crossed behind his back, and his eye wide opened.

Speechless, Luke walks back the step he had before advanced. He stares at his uncle in shock, not believing that again he is using this word.

-Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm…-Aemond walks gracefully. His coat rocks as he steps. Within the second, Ellyn walks away from him too, feeling a strange heat coming out of him-…trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?-. He wonders, narrowing his eye.

-I will not fight you-. Luke nearly scoffs, recalling the promise he made to his mother-. I came as a messenger, not a warrior-. He stresses firmly, shaking his head.

-A fight would be little challenge…-, the prince murmurs softly, looking at the floor.

His nephew takes a light step back, gulping for a second. But then again, he forced himself to keep a brave appearance. Everybody is looking at them.

-No-. Prince Aemond speaks harsh, raising a hand, and grabbing his black leather patch with his five fingers. And then…he took it off-. I want you to put out your eye-. He says maliciously, with a blue sapphire on his lost eye’s socket, shining more than the lightnings outside.

Lucerys’ facade was thrown away. The boy shivered strongly when seeing that gem in that place. He parted his lips, and took a step back. He remembers that time, in Driftmark, when he found Daera and him on the beach. He has never forgotten how his uncle grabbed him by the neck and curses his name while glaring at him with that cold blue stone.

Luke starts to get scared, really scared, recalling that he’s alone in here. Everyone in the hall stared at the prince’s sapphire in shock too, never believing that that was to be under his patch. Ellyn’s eyes showed great terror, and Maris nearly laughed.

-…as payment for mine-. Aemond speaks smoothly, staring at him endlessly. He does not blink. His hear is beating fast, for he knows everyone is looking at him with all kinds of fears, but he’s convincing himself of something: these are new times, things are changing, and so will their perspective of him-. Hmm, plan to make a gift of it to my mother…-, he taps his tongue in the superior part of his mouth, smirking briefly.

Lord Borros, blinkless, stares at the scene from his seat, anxious.

-One will serve-. Without having to look, Aemond fetches a dagger from his belt, unsheathing it. Afterwards, he threw it in the cold floor towards Lucerys, who looked at it in shock-. I would not blind you-, he shakes his head, merciful. Aemond breathes in deeply, deciding to -lords- deciding to add something else-. Wouldn’t want my dear wife to cry over a sightless brother…-, and with this, he spoke his mercy’s reason.

Looking at the dagger, Lucerys gulped and his heart skipped a bit in that moment. He looks up again, finding a cocky smirk on his uncle’s lips, he who had just disrespected Daera’s name and sake.

-You will not mock me-. The young prince spoke with as much confidence as he could, feeling attacked and unsafe-. She’s my brother’s wife, not yours!-. He pointed with firmness, almost yelling.

Aemond blinks cockily, slowly sighing through his nose while thinking of her.

-My lady-, he softly referred to the Rogue Princess. All ear listens to him in shock-. She cuddles with me every night; of those she is away from you lot. She wears two sapphire rings, and a belt and hair of my own, in her-. Aemond speaks of her with an indelible glim of sadness on his eye. Luke breathes fastly, shaking his head. Ellyn shared a confused look with her father, whilst her betrothed keeps chanting of…a woman he loves?-. She sings me to sleep, and wakes me up with the warmest of kisses-. The One-Eyed Prince narrows his eye, having a thousand memories at once. He smirks, looking at his loved’s brother-. She gives much and more, my Daera…-. He assured lovingly.

In that moment, prince Lucerys had a vivid image of his sister’s sapphire rings, those she never takes off, those he sometimes sees her kissing or whispering too without she knowing. It is the same sapphire as the one of his eye, the same color, the same…everything.

Luke breathes in fastly, pushing those thoughts away. He looks at the dagger, and then looks at him again, agitated. He made use of his last strand of bravery.

-No!-. And so he rejected the prince’s request, scrunching his nose.

Aemond opens his eye widely. His pupil, as huge as Vhagar.

-Then you are craven as well as a traitor, and a snitch-. Aemond declares with retained rage, calmed.

-Not here-, Lord Borros is quick to say.

And, as always happens in Daera’s absence, Aemond’s fury ruled over him.

-GIME ME YOUR EYE…!-. Aemond shrieked, running towards the child while grabbing the dagger from the floor. Lucerys flinched and trembled, gasping and walking backwards and dumbly unsheathing his sword-, OR I WILL TAKE IT, BASTARD!-. He growled with rage.

-NOT IN MY HALL!-. Lord Borros stood up, yelling at them.

Right at that second, prince Aemond stopped. He hurts his hand by how strongly he’s holding the dagger. His sane and lost eye both glare at the bastard prince with angriness and doubt. He didn’t want to stop.

-The boy came as an envoy!-. Borros remembers, letting everyone hear him-. I’ll not have bloodshed under my roof-. He denied-. Take prince Lucerys back to his dragon, now!-. He ordered to the guards.

Luke’s shoulders come up and down as he breathes fastly, sheathing his sword again under the cold gaze of Aemond, who pressed his lips while his whole body was shaking of rage.

The guards did as they were told; they escorted the young brown-haired prince back to the castle yard. Sighing longly, and with an evil smirk, prince Aemond played with the dagger between his fingers without looking at it, sheathing it again. He’s pleased of the bastard’s fear.

Lord Borros breathes with heaviness, taking seat again and simply rolling his eye, mumbling some curses. Ellyn gulps nervously from her place, not wanting to keep staring at that gem between that ugly scar of her betrothed.

Everyone kept silence while The One-Eyed Prince, smirking, placed back the patch on his eye, quickly fixing some strands of his hair. And there it might have ended, but for the girl Maris. Less comely than her sisters, she was angry with Aemond for preferring them to her.

-You marvel me, prince Aemond-. The lady smiles to him. Still smirking, he looks at her, as did her father and sisters-. Having beef with a child that still has not one hair strand on his bollocks-. Maris leans her head to a side. The prince’s face started to slowly change.

-Maris, for the fuck’s sake-. Lord Borros tsks his tongue.

-Was it one of your eyes he took, or one of your balls?-. Maris asked the prince, in tones sweet as honey-. I am so glad you chose my sister-. She sighed, relieved. Ellyn looked worried for herself from her place-. I want a husband with all his parts-. The lady declared, looking at her nails.

Aemond Targaryen’s mouth twisted in rage. The word “rage” falls short to what the prince truly felt in that moment. His only eye got blinded by hatred when he’s made seen as a coward cripple, as he has always been made to look like. AS brother of the King, he decided on something:

That ends today.

-Lord Borros-. Aemond walks towards his seat-. I ask you for my leave-. He spoke fastly and harshly, not blinking once. There’s a red tear covering his whole eye.

The Lord of Storm’s end shrugged and answered.

-It is not for me to tell you what to do when you are not beneath my roof-. He told him with simplicity.

He’ll come to regret that, soon.

Lord Borros’ knights moved aside as Prince Aemond rushed to the doors. Ellyn stuttered while trying to call him, but he literally ran to the exit, not ever looking a her again. She sighs, and blows a strand of her brown hair. Then the sisters started to fight, but that’s a matter we’ll leave to their father.

Outside the storm was raging. Thunder rolled across the castle, the rain fell in blinding sheets, and from time-to-time great bolts of blue-white lightning lit the world as bright as day.

Aemond runs under the rain, feeling his hair getting his soak, his pointy jaw dripping multiple raindrops. He growls as he walks, and every step he takes is a memory he has, echoing on his mind.

. . .

-You blame me of stealing with no consequences, but I am the one half-blinded after I made something for my sake-

. . .

-…they did it because they thought I did not deserve it-

. . .

Aemond cried in disbelief feeling how the sea turned into the blood that ran through his fingers with no stop.

. . .

Though the cold rain befalls on Aemond’s slim body, he does not flinch, he is not cold. His blood is hot.

His heart is boiling.

. . .

-I have no word in what I am! I! They talk, and talk and talk about what I am! But is due to what HE made me be! LUKE! He is the reason why everyone talks about me! Will you deny it?!-

. . .

-I want to crush Jace’s skull…-

. . .

The One-Eyed Prince turned around, hurriless. His red face, wrinkled with pain and dolor, soaked with tears and poison, painted by injustice and abusiveness. All, caused by them.

. . .

-I want to take an eye out of Luke’s face-

■ ■ ■

Aemond growled at the same time he began to climb up Vhagar’s rope, holding them with harshness and never blinking; his palms began to bleed but not he did care.

The One-Eyed Prince roars louder than his dragon as he fastly climbs to his saddle.

“If they can attack us without consequences, then so can we. What happens next is on their own heads”.

What happened next was war.

■ ■ ■

Price Lucerys is being escorted back to the yard of the castle, taken by six silent guards that march at a same pace by his sides.

He goes walking with them, but he’s heart is beating so rapidly and his knees are shaking so much that he’s swears he’s to faint at any given moment. Stressed, scared and desperate, the brown-haired’s peace dwells far from him in these trying moments.

So, he took the most stupid decision of his life.

-Pa-pardon me-. Luke stutters, halting his steps and the guards as well-. Can you please show me a…a privy?-. He questions, curving his brows.

The Baratheon knights, never-speaking lads, agreed to his petition. Some of them even feel pity for him. The boy obviously isn’t prepared for this kind of missions, much less alone and without anyone to guide him. Whose idea was this? Who allowed him? If it was his mother, “the Queen”, then shame on her.

Luke locks the doors, and lets out a shaky sigh. He closes his eyes and shakes his head from side to side, gulping. He feels how much his hands are sweating, and how his undergarments are wet because, well…the poor lad pissed himself a little when his diabolic uncle almost slashed his face with that dagger.

The brown-haired boy sobs as lowly as possible, covering his face with his black gloves. Anxiously, he tries to calm his breathing.

But oh, everything that Aemond said…it haunts him. Alleging that he’s still with Daera, and not only that, but that they are even married! “Is- is that true?”. Luke doesn’t believe it, perhaps doesn’t want to, but now, how can he explain those rings on her fingers? No no no no. There must be another explanation, a fair one! He may have been mad with his sister during these last days but he’s more than sure of something: she would never be with someone that would harm him.

Because that’s what Aemond wants, and he said it as explicitly as possible, out there in the Round Hall. He wants to maim Luke badly. He nearly made it, hadn’t it been for Lord Borros’ intervention.

Lucerys’ lips tremble, nearly beginning to cry. But he stopped, calling himself a coward if he started to cry. The boy clears his throat, and straightened his shoulders, breathing as deeply as possible. He must be strong. He must do the smart thing now.

Run.

Arrax roared agitated when he saw Luke sprinting out of the fortress, running to him with all of his clothes and mane soaked by the fierce rain above them. The dragon, anxious himself, ran to his rider to win all the time possible.

Arriving at his dragon’s side, Lucerys looks sideways for a quick moment, fearing to see The Queen of All Dragons. But surprisingly, he found more fear when not finding her in there. Vhagar was gone, completely. Her breathing and growls are no longer making echo.

Thunders clashes on his ears as he looks around, mouth-opened, blinking fastly due to all the raindrops falling on his eyes. Lucerys breathes quickly, grunting and placing his hands on the pale dragon.

-Tokymarvose![Focus!]-. The prince yells over the rain, speaking in High Valyrian-. Ley onh sitnu, Arrax! [Pay attention, Arrax!]-. He demanded, caressing his scales while he growls lowly, altered by the precipitation-. Lykiri… [Calm…]-, Luke speaks as softly as possible, petting him-. Rytes, ryvas! [Listen! Obey!]-, he remarked.

Without wasting another second, the young princeling climbed into his saddle and held tightly to it.

-Soves, Arrax! [Fly, Arrax!]-. He ordered firmly, with an anxious lump in his throat.

Within a moment, the young pale dragon took off from the castle yard, flapping his wings with quickness and strength, fastly rising towards the heavy clouds belonging to the present deluge.

Luke is grabbing his saddle’s handles as if his life depended on it, feeling how violently the wind is blowing and his face being hit by the rain.

Soon, Storm’s End and its great fortress disappeared from any sight of him. They now fly right above Shipbreaker Bay, where the eye of the storm is gathered, having no softness in it and, of course, no mercy.

The sky is so dark and the clouds so heavy that any would think that is nighttime but, in reality, is barely past noon.

Prince Lucerys breathes fastly, having a scowl on his face. His endlessly sipping all the water falling on his mouth. And yet, the boy is thirsty, and his mouth dry. He shakes his wet hair, shaking off some of the many drops in it. He sighs with tiredness, already wanting this to be over.

Something rumbles around him, something that felt like it was coming from everywhere. Something like a roar, a deep and mysterious one. The princeling quickly turned his head, looking back with great nerves. He kept looking around confused.

It didn't occur to him, on time, that where he should have looked…was up.

While a thunder rumbles, Luke realized that less raindrops were falling on his hair, but the rain was still savage as before. Confused, he looked up, and it that very same moment the rain started to hit him strongly again.

The prince presses his lips, mistrusted, looking at his right, then at his left. Then forward.

Vhagar came out of the clouds from one moment to another, directly towards him. Luke startled and gasped instantly, turning his head around while feeling that his heart stopped beating at all.

-HAHAHAHAHAHA…!-, an evil laughs makes echo in the sky as the green dragon hided again between the clouds.

Luke’s chest comes up and down. He opens his eyes widely, and quickly turns around again. Arrax immediately started to flap faster, not having to wait for his command to know that they are now, doubtlessly, in a great hurry.

As the small dragon flies as fastly as he can, an old green ugly thing appears right behind him, with huge wings and wrinkled face. Lucerys looked back over his shoulder, shrieking, only to find that ugly thing opening its mouth a taking a violent bit of the air he was breathing.

When Luke yelled, Arrax instantly starts to fly lower, escaping.

-I SEE YOU, ILIBONOS![BASTARD!]-. A raged voice came from the old dragon’s back, full of hatred and evilness.

‘Tis Prince Aemond Targaryen and his great dynastic dragoness, Vhagar, who pursue the young prince and his inexpert dragon into a less than fair confrontation.

Vhagar took another bite of air, and grumbled when trying to get the small dragon between her paws but failed. Both lady dragon and her rider saw Arrax plummeting quickly, getting away from them. Ah no no, they won’t allow it.

The Queen of All Dragons roared savagely as she, fearlessly, made a narrow turn and started to fly on plummet as well, going in a straight line right behind the other two young ones. Feeling a great deal of air blowing on his wet mane and face, prince Aemond grunts with lips sealed.

These sealed lips are smiling, nevertheless, smirking with great pleasure and maliciousness as the prince can almost hear his nephew’s quailed shrieks and sobs. Aemond is almost starting to laugh, highly amused by all.

-TERYH! HARRAS! [QUICKLY! TURN!]-. Lucerys yelled with despair when looking back for a second and finding the old dragon approaching quickly to them from behind.

Arrax does as told, soaring with his wings whilst giving a turn and starting to fly as low as possible; his rider whines. Tightly held to his saddle, Aemond growls with his fierce eye nailed on that ugly brown mane, following it at all times.

Luke wrinkles all of his face when he pulls his saddle with great strength, making Arrax to do a certain turn, flying sideways. The young boy, while pulling and pulling, whined and sobbed with despair. He’s given to fear already, incapable of deny that he’s scared.

Had the sky been calm, as his sweet sister Princess Daera’s eyes, Prince Lucerys might have been able to outfly his pursuer, for Arrax was younger and swifter…but such eyes were not between the clouds, hence why the day was as black as Prince Aemond’s heart.

Aemond cackles with his mouth wide-opened. His smile is a beautiful and blissful one while his eye shines with a big satisfaction. He rocks on his saddle from side to side while following those little beasts, more than glad. Oh, lords…he’s so happy.

In a moment, the smallest dragon let out a shriek of seemingly hope when he found a safe place. A narrow opening between two gigantic sea stones, where he and his rider fit perfectly. The other beast, bigger than the sky, couldn't fit.

When the dragonling and its pup rider hided between those rocks, The One-Eyed Prince roared with rage and strongly pulled Vhagar’s rope, making her to fly higher.

The green dragoness roared with him, rising her huge body.

-Little fucker-, Aemond’s hoarse voice mumbles under his breath while, from beneath, he stares at Arrax swiftly flying between the stones.

“The bastard is hiding, as always” the prince thinks with rage. Lucerys doesn’t know how to face things, how to treat or confront them. “Let this be a lesson to him, for the future”.

With tears rolling on his red cheeks, the bastard prince looked up with eyes of fear. He saw The Queen of All Dragons’s grotesque body soaring over the rocks, going as calmer as an old woman herself, but completely menacing and lethal.

Vhagar was five time the size of her foe, the hardened survivor of a hundred battles.

As the rain grew every time more savage, Aemond looks around while he licks his lips, having lost Luke out of sight. He growls, smiling and nearing his chest to his saddle when holding it tighter. “He can’t be far”.

Lucerys gulped and looked forward again; Arrax flapped his wings with great fastness, already coming out from those two stones that gave them a temporal protection.

Aemond forms a smile that wrinkled his pointy dripping chin. He thinks -time after time- about all the times that bastard has wronged him, of all the ill things he has done to him with no repercussion. And finally, after all these years, he’s returning the favor, he’s bringing justice. He’s making Luke feel as helpless as he felt that night.

Completely free, The One-Eyed Prince laughed wickedly towards the sky.

Vhagar flaps her enormous green wings, beautifully snaking in the sky with her huge body as his rider caresses her back with his gloved hands.

Luke breathes fast, but starts to breath even faster when feeling Arrax beginning to shake his neck with great anxiety and uneasiness, wanting to turn around. He gasps again and again, holding his saddle tighter.

-To home, Arrax! HOME!-. Luke yells his orders, with heavy tears rolling down his cheeks. Arrax roars desperately, turning around from one moment to another and flapping with quickness-. HOME, ARRAX!-. He screamed.

Aemond growls while he looks around, trying to find the little bastard again. He licks his wet lips while Vhagar soars.

-Gēlȳni enkā goch jemela! [You owe me a debt!]-. The One-Eyed Prince yelled so that all the sky would hear him. He clenches his teeth, holding his saddle with only one hand-. TAOBA! [BOY!]-. He tauntly calls, wanting for him to hear.

The only sound is that of the rain and his dragon. Aemond hears it while looking left and right, slowly. Until, from a moment to another, a broken scream reached his ears too.

-DAOR, ARRAX [NO, ARRAX!]-

And a blast of dragon fire is spitted right directly into Vhagar’s face. Aemond gasped in shock when he saw his dragon growling painfully when being attacked. She closed her eyes and sticked her tongue out, feeling the youngest’s fire hit her.

Arrax and Luke flew swiftly in front of them, and Aemond followed them with his eye as they passed.

-DOHAERAS, ARRAX, SYMUNAI BESOTS! [OBEY, ARRAX, SERVE ME!]-. Lucerys yelled with all the strength and fear of his life, being quickly carried away by his scared dragon.

The Queen of All Dragons opened her mouth with a loud growl of rage and shook her neck fiercely, with thirst for blood. Her rider instantly grew pale.

-NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!-. Aemond starts to yell loudly, shaking his head from side to side-. NO, VHAGAR, NO!-. But despite his screams, the green dragon turned and began to follow the same path of the other. Aemond’s heart beats savagely-. DAOR! [NO!] SERVE ME VHAGAR, NO!-. The prince pulls the ropes as tightly as he can, hurting his hands and throat while screaming-. DOHAERAS, VHAGAR! [OBEY, VHAGAR!]-. He insisted and insisted, trying to get her away.

Here is when the Prince Aemond started to think straight, to think clear. That turned him into the more terrified one. This is not only his nephew, bastard of her half-sister and prince of the realm…This is the loved brother of his wife.

As Arrax flies fastly, Lucerys looked back for a second and then straight forward again. And when he looks forward, his eyes got cleared with hope when he saw the ending of the dark clouds. He prayed and prayed.

And his prayers were answered, for Arrax took the prince out of that storm. They found themselves in a clear calmed blue sky. They have left thunders and lightning behind them.

Lucerys blinks multiple times, shocked. He breathes in and out, in and out with fastness as he looks all around with an open mouth. The princeling looks at all sides, realizing that they indeed have escaped the old beast.

The boy thinks in one thousand things at the same time; his heart is beating so fastly.

He thinks of Dragonstone, of what he’s to do when home again after this experience. He’ll learn to sail a fleet. He’ll hug Rhaenyra, squeeze her tightly. He’ll never argue with Daera anymore. He’ll tell Rhaena, that he loves her.

And with this in mind, the prince looks to his right. Afterwards, he looks to his left.

In less than a second, he cowered and let out a half scream as Vhagar emerged from the clouds with his mouth wide open, her millions of sharp teeth piercing him and his dragon in less than a blink.

-VHAGAR!!-. Aemond screamed like a wretch, startling on his saddle and extending one arm forward, only to catch air.

-NOO!-, he hears bones cracking and sees blood splashing everywhere only with a bare jaw movement the dragoness made. Some she swallowed; others fell-. No…!-, he lost his voice in that moment.

Aemond’s hands fell loose to the sides of his body. With his mouth wrinkled down and his eye wide opened, he turns around in his saddle, and looks down with shock.

What he finds is half-a-wing, half-a-tail and half-a-paw of Arrax, falling broken to be swallowed by the thunderclouds and the storm-lashes waters of the bay.

Prince Aemond starts to turn his head, slowly, whilst his only eye gets was dyed red, filled with tears and true terror. His mouth gets dry, and when he closed his lips and gulped his throat hurted. His tongue tastes like blood.

His ears began to hear war drums, that were growing louder and louder with every shaky breath he’d take. His chest comes up and down and his brows curved dreadfully.

An explosion after explosion after explosion after explosion.

Feeling his whole-body trembling, Aemond knew the war drums growing, beating and exploding in his ears were warning him of something.

Daera’s fury.

■ ■ ■

When night was very well fallen on Dragonstone, a raven arrived to its shore.

Maester Gerardys gave it directly to Queen Rhaenyra, without cracking the seal. In those moments, the Queen was putting to sleep one of her middle sons, Joffrey. Cuddled in the boy’s bed, Nyra didn’t wait a moment to open the paper when realizing it had Jace and Daera’s initials in the fold.

When reading the message, the Queen sighed, smiled, and immediately gathered her Black Council, leaving Joffrey to sleep with a kiss on his forehead. Rhaenyra didn’t notice, but Joff followed her secretly, wanting to attend the court at present.

The Black Council quickly met in the Chamber of the Painted Table. In there, Queen Rhaenyra announced that her children, Jacaerys and Daera, had won House Arryn; they won The Vale to their side. Strategics and tactics were immediately put in the table, wasting no time.

The young Joffrey, hiding beneath a wee table and its cloth, is peeking at everything with a mesmerized eye. When seeing Baela and Rhaena on the other side of the room, he wanted to snicker, but contained himself; he wants to remain hidden.

Rhaena stans near a window, having her pink dragon-egg clutched to her chest, caressing it distractedly while she stares at the dark night sky. Baela sits beside Lord Gormon Massey and Ser Erryk Cargyll in another table of the room, pointing a map of the Crownlands and they speak.

Prince Daemon was not in the room. He was rather busy, occupied with the preparations of his march to Harrenhal. That, until a guard until a guard stopped him in his tracks, right in the middle of a hallway, with eyes filled of fear.

The guard spoke.

Now, prince Daemon walks with slowness. Guards at each side of the hallway see him pass and remain stiff. The only thing the prince hears are his own steps, barely, listening only to the echo of them, to the…pressure they make on the floor.

His slow steps head him to the Chamber of The Painted Table.

He is crestfallen; his hair bounces slowly as he walks, his lips are parted and loosen, whilst his eyes are covered by a curved frown. His eyes are never blinking, holding a thin glass layer in them. Perhaps this is too risky to say about our brave Rogue Prince, but he looks…traumatized.

From his hiding place, Joff turned his head around when his father enters the room. The boy was about to snicker playfully, but as soon as he saw Daemon’s face, his lips stopped smiling and fell down with slowness. The kid gets confused, following him with his brown eyes.

Daemon arrived to the room in pure silence. The chamber is full of people, everybody either occupied on a talk, a discussion or in a book or a map. Each of them is doing something, working and thinking, the prince’s children included.

At the head of the Painted Table, Rhaenyra was carefully listening to Lord Bartimos, Ser Lorent and Ser Steffon. The Queen was really into the conversation, until something made her to turn her head. With this, she finds her husband entering the chambers. She blinked when seeing him walking with his head low.

As he starts to walk by the table, the prince sniffs his nose, and then raises a hand to squeeze it lightly, not wanting to sob out loud. His wife’s eyes opened a little wider than usual, wondering if she saw wrong.

Not understanding his silence nor his ashamed walk, Rhaenyra starts to get confused and worried, following him with her eyes. Ser Steffon follows the queen’s eyes and he finds Daemon walking by him.

The knight only looked at him for a second; he nodded towards him and mouthed the words “my prince”, afterwards returning to his prior talk. The prince didn’t hear anything.

The girls start to look at their father too, from their different places. Baela furrows her brows, and Rhaena tilts her head.

Rhaenyra doesn’t understand why he keeps crestfallen; the Queen starts to have a bad feeling about all of his silence.

Not too long after, Daemon arrived to her side, finally lifting up his eyes, revealing the tears in them. Nyra didn’t have time to react, for he took a hand of her into his, slowly starting to turn around and making her to do so as well. Rhaenyra gripped his fingers instantly, turning around, and looking at the burning fireplace with a curious expression.

The spouses now are with their backs turned to everyone; no one sees their faces anymore.

Foolishly crawling on his knees and hands, Joffrey comes out of his hiding place. Slowly, the boy starts to stand up, staring at his parents with parted lips and confused crystal eyes.

Little by little, everyone else in the chamber begins to look towards there as well, not understanding why they were whispering or hiding their faces. Prince Daemon never is ashamed of his words and, Queen Rhaenyra is always open to her people. “What is- what is going on?”, many wonder.

Rhaenyra listens closely, with her head lightly leaned to a side. Her brows got furrowed within a second.

-They report that Ae- Aemond was at Storm’s End…-

Daemon lets Rhaenyra’s hand go, crossing his own on his chest, feeling it hurt while he still speaks. The Queen starts to slouch little by little, listening.

-…Rests of a pale dragon was-washed up in the coast…-

Air left Rhaenyra’s lungs, whose wide eyes traveled to the fireplace.

Everybody in the room hears the echo of the prince’s words. Joffrey’s lips started to tremble. Baela stands up from her chair with shaky legs, terror on her eyes. Rhaena trembles from the window, slowly turning around her head.

-Lu-…Luke…Luke has been slain-

That was only heard by The Queen.

Rhaenyra’s shoulder stiffed up from a moment to another, her body rocked in the air and she limped loosely, nearly falling. Her head moves slightly while looking at the fireplace; her heart stopped beating.

Daemon looks down, letting his own tears fall.

Her knees got bent when a fire started to consume her from within in. Rhaenyra grabs her own belly and squeezes it between her fingers. She slouches and cries, cries and cries, whining with despair and pain.

Rhaena shakes her head, blinkless. Baela holds her weight with a table. Joffrey began to cry with fear when hearing his mother’s whines. He nearly fell back, quickly grabbed by Ser Erryk.

Rhaenyra shakes her head from side-to-side time after time. She touches and touches her belly, feeling it empty, feeling that something lacks in there. Oh she cries, tear and tear coming to her pained eyes.

But from a moment to another, an invisible force grabbed her shoulders and straightened them firmly. She took a deep breath while her head stopped its shaking. Her eyes reflected the flames of the fireplace, which trembled when she looked at them.

Rhaenyra began to turn around with stiff feet. Her shoulders come around first, and then her face start to do so too.

She revealed a swollen red face, with a sour tear on her right cheek and angry sharp brows. Her superior lip trembled. The Black Queen stared forward with mad grief in one eye, and war in the other.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #hotd season 1 #hotd #lucerys velaryon #luke

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camilbarnessss · 4 months

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 13 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warrnings: constant swearing, oral sex [fem receiving], fingering, innocence kink (is that even a thing???), manipulation, adultery, mentions of killing and kinslaying, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

Kalistrox and Vermax, officially, have arrived to the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale.

From any point of the sky, both dragons can see the greatest castle of the region, The Eyrie, which majesty stands at the top of a tall mountain called The Giant’s Lance, and not for nothing. The structure is so pointy and sharp, so delicate and elegant.

“As High as Honor”. House Arryn’s motto couldn’t be more appropriate for them.

From the backs of their dragons, princes Jacaerys and Daera looked down with open lips, marveled by all the trees below them, and all the Mountains of The Moon in the surroundings. Everywhere they’d look, they’d find a mountain or a waterfall somewhere nearby. The Vale of Arryn is beautiful, to say the least.

Soon enough, after soaring in circles in the skies for a few moments, to make themselves noticed, they landed into the lush forest under. Kalistrox and Vermax both growled, curious and uncomfortable, feeling caged between all the trees that surround them.

With Jacaerys Velaryon and Daera Targaryen having descended upon The Eyrie on the prince’s young dragon, Vermax, and the princess’ ancient one, Kalistrox, their mission truly began; they will win The Vale of Arryn for their mother, Queen Rhaenyra.

-Shh, shh…-Daera shushes Kalistrox, caressing his golden scales while walking down his wing, looking around. Also glancing at the surroundings, her husband jumps down from his dragon, petting his head while he shrieks lowly.

Unconsciously walking towards the other, Jace and Daera looked at the many great tall trees, barely seeing the end of them, for they were so tall. They’re not used to be in the woods.

-I cannot remember the last time I was in a forest-, Jacaerys confesses with a curious smile-. Do you?-, he asks, narrowing his eyes to look at her.

Daera blinked slowly, looking away from the trees when remembering the last time she was in a wood. Six months ago, when her nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera turned half a year. Queen Alicent took the spirit to celebrate it with a camp to the Kingswood. She was in King’s Landing in those days, on her usual monthly visits to Helaena and the kids, and Aemond.

-…I do-, she answered, mumbling softly. Jacaerys looked at her, noticing nostalgia on her purple eyes.

The princess has a lot of quick memories, all at once, of that time in the woods with the royal family and the lords that accompanied him. She played with the kids non-stop, gossiped with Helaena only to be answered with laughs and scrunched-noses from her, hunted with the lords, bathed naked in a river, secretly danced with Aemond behind the trees at night, kissed with him… How could things be so different now, just from a moment to another?

During their flight here, Daera became aware of something that broke her heart. Lost in random memories and counting random days, she realized that…today is Jaehaera and Jaehaerys’ name day. Today they’re turning a year, and she’s not with them, and neither can. Their aunt, who loves them so much, is far far away from them on this special day, and there’s literally no way she could be there.

She was supposed to be at King’s Landing today, having returned with Rhaenyra on dragonback, as they promised, but everything went to shit. And they’re now here, at The Vale’s wood, away from anyone or anything they know.

-Is something wrong?-. Jace’s question took her out of her mind. Daera quickly sniffs her nose, raising her brows and looking up again.

-No, no-. She shakes her head from side to side-. Only smelling the pine trees, aren’t they lovely?-. She narrows her eyes, smiling and looking around again. Nevertheless, he remained looking at her.

-Daera…-, he whispered her name with softness. The princess glances at him, closing her lips, knowing that he knows there’s something up with her-. It is only me and you, and it will only be me and you during the whole length of our mission; for the first time is like this-. He raises his brows, getting closer to her with slow steps. Daera gulps lightly, curving her eyebrows while hearing his sympathetic tone-…I think we should tell each other everything-, the prince confesses with honesty.

The Rogue Princess gulps again, and starts to nod, actually agreeing with his statement. It is true. The Queen has given them a great responsibility to take, only to the two of them. The best thing is for them to act as one, then, and for that…they’ll have to break some walls.

-I miss Helaena a lot-, she whispered-…and the children…-Daera confessed. Moved, Jacaerys sighed, listening to her-. They’re turning a year today, did you know?-. She smirks tinyly, thinking of those two precious.

-Do they?-, the prince get surprised-. Has it…has it really been a year since we were on Driftmark?-, he asks, not believing how fast time has passed.

-An exact year-, she mumbles with a little sad smile. She couldn’t help but to also think that it has been to an exact year since Luke snaked on her and Aemond, on the beach. The day that everything changed for them, when everyone knew of their affair-. Time does fly, indeed-. She sighed.

-It does…-. Jace whispers, remembering too that night, the very same night the idea of marrying her came to his mind, to save her from Aemond’s hands.

-And I- I fear for them, for Helaena and the children-. Daera confesses, sniffing her nose with unquietness. He furrows his brows, wondering why-. They’re practically alone in that Keep…and I’m not there to help them-, she murmurs, looking down. Daera hurted herself with her own words, thinking of Aemond, thinking that he was in the Red Keep, not having an idea he was actually at Storm’s End.

Knowing that Aemond was completely dedicated to putting Aegon on the throne -which he achieved- Daera feels that now Helaena and her children are truly alone…

-I understand your sadness, wife-. Jacaerys nods, raising a hand to caress one of her arms. She curves her brows, softly, looking at his brown comprehensive eyes-. Know that they won’t be alone for long. You’ll see that, as soon as this is over, you shall reunite with them again, under different terms than these-. He promised, so sure of himself that he actually made his wife to start to smile.

Trusting in that good fate, Daera smirked towards him, lifting up her cheeks. Jacaerys copied her expression, sweetly smiling to her, feeling a little blush on his cheeks.

-You’re good with words, sweet prince-. She whispers with softness, making him to look down, still smiling, and flattered. Daera sighs, caressing his arms and then patting them-. Let’s go to lady Jeyne Arryn now, so you can show off your wise mouth with her too-. She winks an eye, beginning to walk. Jace sighed and chuckled, following her right by her side.

The riders said goodbye to their dragons, promising they’d be back soon. Both princes walked between the trees of the forest, soon remembering of that time they were in here too, with their other siblings, when they were still kids.

In this very forest was that The Rogue Princess gained her soubriquet, after she murdered three rapists that tried to harm her and her sisters. Always a good moment to remember that one.

■ ■ ■

When the Valyrian princes reached The Eyrie’s gates they presented themselves to the guards standing outside. The knights were informed they were before prince Jacaerys Velaryon, firstborn of the Realm’s Delight, and princess Daera Targaryen, firstborn of the Rogue Prince.

They demanded to have an audience with the Lady of The Vale, and none refuted their wish. The princes were immediately taken into The Eyrie, being guided by three honorable knights of House Arryn. The princes were always side by side, he by her right and she by his left.

The castle’s insides are more than beautiful, perhaps more than the outsides. The walls are great and the floors well-polished. Many ancestral heraldries are in disposal around the hallways of the castle. A strong breeze comes from every part they look to. The fortress’ freshness is immaculate.

Soon, they reached the High Hall of the Eyrie, where they found a high throne. And, in there, Lady Jeyne Arryn looked down at them, powerfully seated on a huge and majestic throne sculped in the form of a very delicate tree.

The woman is a redhead woman of strong factions, her eyes are as blue as the sky above her land. Her red hair falls to her back and in front of her shoulders. Some strands of it are over her breast, which are almost in full display, for the lady wears a very open dress, with a wide neckline that reaches the beginning of her belly bottom.

-I present to you, my lady: the prince Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Ser Laenor Velaryon and princess Rhaenyra, and the princess Daera Targaryen, daughter of prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Laena Velaryon!-, one of the knights announces with a firm voice.

Jace and Daera stopped walking at the same time after they entered the rooms. The princess smiled tinyly when her mother was named, while the young man parted his lips, bemused, being incapable of not glancing for a quick second to the woman’s breasts, white and big.

The woman looked at him too, better said she stared. A smile crossed her lips, while a shine appeared in her eyes.

-My lady-, Daera bowed her head down.

-My lady-, Jace does the same, both respectful.

The Maiden of The Vale, Lady Jeyne Arryn, was five-and-thirty, more than ten years their seniors. Never wed, Lady Jeyne had reigned over the Vale since the death of her father and elder brothers at the hands of the Stone Crows of the hills when she was three.

There exist many tales about her, many that both princes have heard of. Some tell that this famous maiden was in truth a highborn harlot with a voracious appetite for men. Others attest that Jeyne Arryn prefers the intimate companionship of other women.

We ought to point out that this is not Daera’s first time in The Vale since she was declared The Rogue Princess. She has returned other times after that, in some of the trips she accompanied princess Rhaenys to. However, this is Jace’s first time in here since that time. He remembers little, and doesn’t know which is the truth about the lady’s preference. Daera does. The former one is the true one.

But, we are here to attend to the matters that happen in the High Hall of The Eyrie, rather than its bedchambers.

-Princess-, Lady Jeyne Arryn salutes the white-haired woman, who nodded towards her, serious. They have never been very fond of each other because, as we know, The Vale is not very fond either of the girl’s father, Daemon-. My prince…-, she then looks at Jacaerys, bowing her head.

-My lady-. He nodded too, keeping a serious expression. He holds in his hand a rolled paper-. We come in the behalf of The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, my mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen-. He informed.

-“Queen”?-, Jeyne repeated, slightly furrowing her red eyebrows. Jace breathes in, pressing his lips.

-If it hasn’t arrived to your knowledge yet, then we may inform you that…my uncle -my husband’s grandsire-, Viserys, has…died-. Daera informed with a slow pace, raising her brows to the top of her forehead. Her heart and Jace’s ached internally when thinking of the passing King.

The lady on the throne’s lips parted, surprised.

-Viserys died?-. She asked, with a light sorrow being palpable on her voice. She breathes in, blinking a few times and raising her shoulders-. No raven has arrived from the capital in these days, no word announcing the death of King Viserys, nor about the coronation of princess Rhaenyra as Queen-. Jeyne informs, briefly shaking her head.

-Because dragons fly faster than ravens-. Daera nodded. Jacaerys smirked tinyly, side-eyeing for a second. Lady Arryn, lips-parted, nods slowly, looking at the two of them, and then fixating her eyes on the boy-. My cousin, Aegon, has usurped the Iron Throne-, she suddenly informed as well, making her to go speechless.

-He was crowned King, unfairly, while my mother was in Dragonstone, unknown to the new of King Viserys’ death-. Jacaerys tells with a serious tone, looking at the lady, who stares at him with furrowed brows.

Lady Jeyne looked down for a second, clearly thoughtful. It clearly is much to take in, in less than five minutes since their arrival. She would have first invited them to some crackers and tea, but the matter is indeed too delicate to postpone.

-My lady-

The Velaryon prince’s voice made Jeyne to look again towards them. She sees how they both walked three steps forward, getting closer to her high throne. She recognized the look of bravery on both the princes’ eyes.

-We have come to ask for your support and that of your land, to have you by our side, and to fight for our Queen’s right and honor-. Prince Jacaerys states, truly forgetting the paper he has on his hands.

-The loyalty and fealty from your House and your vassals to our cause is what we ask you-. Princess Daera speaks with calm yet seriousness, with her hands crossed behind her back-. For some days now The Hightowers have been believing they can get away with their treason and treachery-, she raises her brows.

-With The Vale standing by us, they’ll start to understand it will not be that way-. Jacaerys stated.

The princes were well listened by The Maiden of The Vale. She heard every word and thought about every statement. After some quiet moments, she blinked, resting her back against her throne.

Jeyne planned to speak, but went silent when she noticed someone entering the room. The princes turned around too when hearing those steps.

-Maester Mushkun-. Lady Arryn nods towards him, who immediately started to approach towards her, with a paper on his hand-. Can’t you see I am in the middle of an audience with the princes?-, she asks, honestly wondering why he came if he was not called.

-Pardon me, my lady, my greatest excuses, but…-the Maester bows his head quickly towards the princes, who answered with puzzle, curious. Mushkun walks up the stairs towards her seat-. A raven has arrived, my lady…from King’s Landing-. He informed.

Jeyne turned to look at them with open lips. Jace and Daera froze at that moment, getting tense. They looked at each other, clenching their jaws. The lady blinked, slowly taking the paper on one of her hands.

-Thank you, Mushkun-. She mumbles, starting to open the roll. The princes move on their places, unquiet-. Leave-, she ordered to him.

The Maester bowed, and walked down the stairs again. Nervously, and quickly side-eyeing the princes, he walked away, soon outing the room. Jeyne bit her cheeks, and looked down to the paper, reading it silently.

-Fuck-. Daera whispered, and her husband turned to look at her-. Fucking cunts, fucking assholes, fuck!-. She curses under her breath, tightening her fists behind her back. The prince gulps nervously, glancing towards the lady again.

While Lady Arryn reads, she raised her brows and scrunched her lips, giving a huge blink. She continued reading, scoffing lowly. Then, she closed her eyes for some long seconds, tilting her head, and breathing in deeply. Everything under the highly curious gaze of them two.

Jeyne rolled the paper back, softly and delicately. She looks to the young ones, having her jaw clenched, and a thoughtful smile on her lips.

-Dragons do fly faster than ravens, then-. She says.

She let the paper to fall on the floor. The breeze immediately blew it away. Jace parted his lips, and Daera furrowed her brows strongly.

-Thrice have mine own kin sought to replace me-. Lady Jeyne told Prince Jacaerys and Princess Daera, who listened interested-. My cousin Ser Arnold is wont to say that women are too soft to rule-. She says, tilting her head to a side-…I have him in one of my sky cells, if you would like to ask him-. She raised her brows. Daera’s lips lifted up a little, smirking sideways-. Your Prince Daemon used his first wife most cruelly, it is true…-, the Lady confesses in an ashamed sigh.

Daera stopped smirking, pressing her lips and clenching her throat. Jace looked sideways at her, pressing his mouth as well. They both know about the story of Daemon’s first marriage, how he’s said to have coldly murdered Lady Rhea Rhoyce of Riverrun. Daemon’s first daughter does not believe this tale, but this is not the moment to fight it either.

-But not withstanding your mother’s poor taste in consorts, she remains our rightful Queen, and mine own blood besides, an Arryn on her mother’s side-. Lady Jeyne went on saying, with honesty, while nodding-. In this world of men, we women must band together…-, she slowly realizes, looking at her feet for a few seconds.

Daera and Jace stare at her with a hope they could not hide very well, at least not him. All they want is support, reassurance. A safe feeling that they will win, and that everything will be alright.

-The Vale and its knights shall stand with her-. Lady Jeyne Arryn declared with a firm voice, standing up from her throne.

And that’s what they got.

The prince’s chest got filled with air of pride and relieve when they breathed in deeply. Daera opened her lips, starting to smile with glory. The lady wanted to chuckle when she saw the excited look the spouses shared.

-…But I will need Her Grace to grant me one request-. Lady Jeyne Arryn added, raising her brows. They look at her again, curious.

-What might that be?-, prince Jacaerys asked, looking like he would give her anything she’d ask for right now.

-Dragons-. The Lady of The Vale answered, firmly, walking two steps down her throne. Jace and Daera got surprised, listening closely-. I have no fear of armies. Many and more have broken themselves against my Bloody Gate, and The Eyrie is known to be impregnable-. She shrugged, taking another step towards them.

Slowly, Daera closed her lips with softness, understanding now what she was asking for.

-Our enemy has dragons too…-, the princess pointed. The lady smiled to her, raising her brows, and nodding.

-I saw you arriving, flying and soaring up there-. Jeyne says, crossing her hands over her belly. Jace, only for a brief second, glanced at her exposed breasts-. You two have descended on us from the sky, as Queen Visenya once did during the Conquest…and I was powerless to halt you, and I hate feeling powerless-. She narrows her eyes, almost ashamed-. Send me dragonriders-. The lady demanded with firmness.

Daera and Jace both admire her determination, for her people and for herself. Daera thinks of Baela, knowing she’d be perfect for the task. And so, she takes a step front, nearing to the lady.

-We shall see it done, my lady-. Princess Daera agreed, which made a smile to appear on Jeyne’s closed lips-. You shall have dragonriders to defend your land-. She promised.

-Then it is done-. Lady Arryn cheered, raising her brows. She looked past the princess, to the prince, whom she found smiling too. Their eyes connected, and the boy instantly felt nervous, pressing his lips. She keeps smiling, licking her lips-. Another request would be welcomed, wouldn’t it?-, she mumbles.

Daera furrows her brows, looking at her suspiciously,

-May I confess to you, my prince, that a lot I have heard of the Velaryon force, but had never before seen one from up close?-. She tells Jace, taking another step down. Now she’s at their same level, near to Daera, whose fist started to clench behind her back. Jacaerys stares at her, mouth-opened, silly-…At least not one this handsome-, she adds, shrugging.

-Oh-, Jace put his palms together, letting out a laugh. He’s flattered, not because he was called handsome, but because he was called a Velaryon so confidently. He loves that.

-Where is this leading to?-. Daera asked with little patience, with a wide irritated smile on her face, fighting to not curse. That’s the princess Daera the Lady Jeyne has known all her life, so her tone didn’t surprise her.

-I shall make my last petition-. Lady Arryn informs, nearing to the prince with slow marked steps. He gulps, fighting to not look down to her chest. Daera follows her with her eyes on fire-. I want you to fuck me on my throne-. She simply asked to the prince.

Jace immediately turned red, quickly trying to pretend it while breathing in deeply. Within a second Daera gasped, filled of courage.

-‘Am fucking sorry?! What the fu-…?!-, and before she could end her curses, Jacaerys quickly grabbed her hand and pulled it lightly, raising his brows. Daera shuts up, flabbergasted.

Lady Jeyne only watches with calm, forever smiling.

-My lady, um…-Jace licks his lips, breathing in while still holding her hand. Daera breathes fast, nearly killing her with her eyes-. I am afraid that, uh- well…-. He sighs, and then clears his throat under both woman’s glance-. I’m still keeping my first time, my lady, to…someone dear of mine-. Jace’s cheeks turned so red while speaking, not looking at neither of them while doing so.

Lady Arryn raised her brows while she still smiled, surprised. It really shocked her to know that princess Daera -the most lustful princess of the Seven Kingdoms- hasn’t still bedded her one-year husband. Daera, on the other hand, is speechless. Is this truth? Is Jace keeping his deflowerment…for and to her?

-Well, who am I to judge?-. Lady Jeyne sighs, shrugging. Jace gulps, while Daera stares at him at all moments, mouth-opened-. However, then, you can bring me to my climax with your tongue…can’t you not?-. She narrows her cocky eyes, not giving up.

Daera grumbled once again, but her husband quickly pulled her hand again.

-We ask you for a moment, my lady-. Jace asks for, gulping.

-And you shall have it-, she instantly permits.

Jacaerys presses his lips with doubt, looking at Daera, who looked back at him with raged eyes and twisted mouth.

■ ■ ■

-Jace, what the fuck?!-. Daera whispered loudly, as soon as the doors were closed.

-Daera!-, he raises his brows, turning around.

Lady Arryn gave them access to one of the many halls of The Eyrie. This one is huge and with no one in besides them. The windows are tall and open, and in the middle of the room there’s a very large white table of marble, of eighteen chairs.

-How dares she to ask such a thing?!-. Daera hisses with rage, walking into the room. Her fists are tight to the sides of her body-. I should have punched her!-, she growls.

-Let us talk this through, sister-. He recommends, slowly raising his brows while approaching to her.

-Are you not angry?!-, she narrows her eyes and turns to look at him, shrieking.

-Oh I should have punched her because I’m angry?-, he shrugges-. Which I’m not-, he quickly clarifies.

-Well- you should!-. Daera stutters, hitting her own thighs and shaking her head from side to side, troubled.

-I have heard that the Lady of The Vale is this way, Daera-. Jacaerys whispers with honesty, nearing to her. She presses her lips, clenching her jaw while he approaches-. She asked for dragonriders and her- her satisfaction…it seems that we shall give her both-, he says, slowly raising his brows.

-No-. Daera shook her head, gulping-. She’s taking advantage of you, wickedly! You already told her that you haven’t even had your first time, and yet…!-, her complaining was interrupted by him, who cleared his throat with shame when hearing her saying it.

-I am not Luke, Daera-. Jacaerys interrupter her within a whisper. She was left mouth-opened, realizing that she was doing it again-. I am a man-. He states, sure.

Daera closes her mouth, and gulps. Slowly, she looks at him, from feet to toe, seeing his tall height compared to hers, his strong jaw, his broad shoulders. He’s right, she sighs, he is a man.

That's something she remembered most vividly when she remembered that thing they did in King's Landing. When planning on making Alyssa to pass as his daughter, she took him to her bed and…there, she didn’t expect to feel that heat that took over all of her body while seducing him.

She remembers his sharp whines and how big and hulking his cock was, and that was below his clothes. She remembers how it felt to have it poking strongly against her core, and she remembers too how he had to hurry to the washroom to clean himself after they were done, for he cum so hard and abundant.

Looking at his brown eyes, Daera gulps, realizing that she doesn’t want Jeyne Arryn’s cunt to be the first that he ever tastes. That can’t be his first one!

But, is it Jeyne Arryn’s cunt the problem? Does Daera care because its Jeyne Arryn’s cunt, or because is a cunt that…is not her own? Does she want to be Jace’s first time, is that it? Is it that she so much likes his inexperience? Is that she wants it for herself?

The spouses stare at each other, silently. Jace has realized how her brows are now furrowed, and her throat afflicted.

-The faster we finish here, the faster we will be leaving to Winterfell-. The brown-haired prince points with a soft whisper, lightly raising his eyebrows.

Daera’s trembling lips closed harshly when she neared her chin to her shoulder, looking up at him with eyes of doubt and seriousness. He stares at her for many silent seconds, reading her face. He took a step closer.

-I can accept that, as my sister, you don’t want me to do it-. Jace whispers softly, lightly raising his brows. Daera remains silent, staring at him-. But, if it is as my sacred wife…-, he takes a step closer, and in that moment her lips parted-…then speak it now, Daera-. The prince asks with a pleading tone, weakly, curving his frown, and looking at her from up closely.

Daera breathes slowly, looking at the nerves and desire on Jacaerys’ eyes. It’s so obvious, almost touchable. What the princess isn’t being aware of is that her eyes are showing the very same emotion, and he was noticing it with no restriction.

Those nerves on his eyes kill her, turns her on. Fuck. Fucking shit. Fuck Jace. Fuck life. Fuck it.

-As your fucking wife, I want you to do it good-. Daera raised her brows, approaching even nearer.

In that moment, Jace froze up, opening his brown eyes hugely. She tilts her head to a side, gulping, and glancing at his neck for two seconds.

-You have no idea on how to do it, do you?-. She whispers, taking another step towards him. Jace breathes heavily, playing with his fingers at the sides of his body, looking down at her feet. He silently shook his head-. Say it-, she ordered.

-I have no idea on how to do it-, he answered within a whisper, blinking slowly. He wanted to hold a part of her body, any part, but didn’t have the courage to do it by himself.

-Ow, Jace…-she hummed, closing her eyes while breathing in. He licks his lips, and then gulps-. The magic is in one’s tongue-. Daera says with her brows up-. You lick everything that you find yourself with-. She speaks with a sweet voice. She placed a finger under his chin and made him to look up, to look at her.

Jacaerys felt dizzy -in the best of ways- when looking at her dilatated purple eyes, those that right now are so fixated on him. Holy gods, he thinks, does she desire me?

-There’s a button in the middle of a lady’s cunt, you know?-. The princess whispers, narrowing her eyes. In that moment he trembled, closing his mouth harshly-. When using your mouth down there, you must suck that button, as many times as you can, as hardly as you can. As if you were starving you must suck, lick and kiss-. Daera speaks with passion. At the same time, she’s feeling a heat burning in her own button.

-Gods-, he let a great sigh out, trembling. She bit her lips briefly when he did so, mesmerized by his obvious innocence, curiosity and horniness. He’s alluring.

Daera suck her inferior lip, looking at his mouth. She hums, raising a hand, and directing it towards there. Jacaerys trembled when her thumb pulled his inferior lip down. He whined when she rubbed the tip of a finger in there.

-Oh, look at that…-Daera hums, looking at her finger, seeing the heavy saliva she got out of Jace’s mouth. His shoulders come up and down with his fast breathing-…it looks like you’re ready-, she mumbled, flirty.

Screw it.

-Oh, come on-. Daera grunted, grabbing his cloth’s neck from a moment to another and pulling him with her when she started to walk backwards. Jace stutters, quickly following her like an idiot-. Come on, come on, come on-. She speaks fastly as she climbed to the top of the table, seating on it with quickness.

Daera grabbed her skirt, and started to pull it up. Placing his open palms at the side of her body, in the table, Jace breathes fast and desperately, and went speechless when seeing her legs and thighs starting to be shown, just for him to see.

-Seven hells-. He whined, like a pup, stumbling on his own feet even though he was just standing.

-Down, fucking hells-, while mumbling a cursing, The Rogue Princess places an open hand on his head and pushed him down. So weak and mesmerized, Jace was taken down with easiness.

Prince Jacaerys fell to his knees, and the hand on his head pushed him so his nose would clash with the bare skins of her legs. The prince whined weakly, curving his brows and opening his lips, smelling the sweet aroma of hers. She smells like lavender. ´

Completely stunned, Jace babbles against her skin, closing his eyes. Daera bits her lips, opening her legs slowly. Very timidly, he places a kiss on one of her knees, tasting its sweetness. It made him to whine, yet again, and to kiss it again.

-See it-, he heard a low whisper from his wife.

When Jace opened his eyes again, he was left speechless. He is face to face with some kind of marvel, some kind of a flower-shaped thing. It is so beautiful, it is so purple, it is…oh gods, it is wet.

Daera smiled, she did it bigly when seeing Jace’s reaction seeing a cunt for the first time. His rection is all hers, and she adores it. The princess hums, biting her lips for a moment.

-You honor me so much, Daera-. He whispered, nearly with no voice. He hears her giggle. He wanted to look up, but was too mesmerized on the sight-. But whe- where are your undergarments?-, he mumbles, silly.

-Irrelevant-, she cocked her head.

He felt a push on his head from the hand of it. The prince hums weakly, tilting his head to a side, admiring the pretty little thing he was staring to. When recalling the points Daera gave him before, he started to get nearer, breathing fastly.

When his breathing clashes with the wetness of her cunt, Daera straightened her back and breathed in deeply, anxious. She looks down, pushing him again. Jacaerys placed his hands on the floor, where he as kneeled, and opened his mouth.

After almost a year of being married, prince Jacaerys Velaryon for the first time tasted his wife’s, Daera Targaryen, savor. In that moment, they both knew it would never be the same again. In that moment, he discovered the taste of heavens.

It’s deliciously salty.

-Fuck!-, Daera sighed deeply when feeling the first lick from him.

Jacaerys hummed so sharply, rolling his eyes blank with bemusement when feeling the soft flesh under his tongue. He started to move it, so slowly, fearing of breaking something -the poor boy-. Jace licks from side to side, feeling the button going along his tongue.

He looks up while doing it, terribly nervous, but not wanting to stop nevertheless. She finds Daera biting her lips and her hips trembling while she looks back at him. He whines with weakness, scratching the floor with his nails while he directs his tongue to all places possible, as she told him before.

Daera loves power. She’s loving to see Jace nervous of pleasing her, he’s trying so hard and, fuck, so good. She had almost forgotten that the prince is gifted. He learns everything that is teach to him. And he learns fast.

-That’s it-. The princess whispers, caressing his brown mane-. Breath, breath Jace-. She pulls his head, driving him away. Jacaerys breathes fastly and deeply, looking at her with silly eyes and hungry mouth, almost smiling-. Fuck, you son of a bitch-. She mumbled, amused herself, never having imagined that he would look so good and slutty while doing this.

-Am I doing it alright?-, he questions with a fasted breath.

She didn’t answer, on purpose, and without notice pulled his mouth back to her cunt. For no one’s surprise, he actually cheered this, and quickly began to lick all of her womanhood again. She bit her lips, chuckling growly, and making circles with her hips, dancing against his mouth.

He did what was told. In one moment, he prisoned the button on his lips, and sucked it deeply against his cheeks. That was the first time that Daera moaned, doing it loudly and with a smile, jumping on the table. When she did, he whined loudly as well, closing his eyes when feeling tears gathering in it.

-Fuck, fuck, Jac- ow!-.Daera howls with an open smile. He’s licking and tasting everything, always poking with his big nose on her sensible flesh-. Fuck!-. She growls, pushing his head harder.

The young man between her opened legs grunts, clashing his hands against the table and scratching the marble to the sides of her body, going deeper on her cunt. When she saw his hands, she was quick to take them, and to make them clash against her own thighs, grunting too.

When Jace realized he had the permission to touch her skin besides her cunt, he squeezed her thighs tightly, pressing them so hard, almost nailing his nails on them. Daera trembled under his touch, opening her mouth wide. She moaned when seeing his big manly hands squeezing her legs as if they’re made out of sand.

The princess moans, and from a moment to another she climbed completely up the table. The prince followed like a hungry hound, quickly getting on the table too, letting his shoes to fall on the floor. He whines with great desire, crawling with his hands and knees while she crawled back with her elbows and feet, looking at him with a smile.

-Come, come-. She babbles with quickness, taking his hair again, and pulling him towards the middle of her open legs.

Jacaerys groaned sharply, taking her thighs again and now pushing them, opening her legs wider. The princess moaned with a surprised smile, making a fist that pulled his brown hair with force. He whines so sharply, with pain and pleasure, licking the dripping cunt of his wife, which is getting every time more wet, damping all of his mouth and cheeks.

“Is this heaven?”, the prince dared to think. “How did I live eight and ten years without knowing about this marvel? Perhaps I was not living at all”

Feeling all of her insides trembling, Daera closed her legs and trapped Jace’s head in the middle of them. He felt blessed, and never stopped licking her tasty womanhood. She hums two times, and opens her legs again, breathing fastly.

-See, see-. Speaking with no breaths, she makes him to look at her, pulling him away. He licks his wet lips, looking at her eyes-. Give me your hand-. She whispers, sitting on.

-My hand?-, he babbles, licking his lips again.

Daera takes his right hand, for he’s right-handed. Her own hand made two of his five fingers to go down, the two of the middle. That confused him. Why is she making him do this strange sign?

-Is this…-Jace looks at his hand. Only his thumb, index and pinky finger are up-…is this some signal?-, he wonders.

-It is to finger me-. The Rogue Princess answered with a whisper filled of lust and fun, batting her lashes. He parts his lips, speechless-. Do you want to learn?-, she questions.

-Yes-, he answered without thinking about it.

Daera chuckles, taking his hand and guiding him. Jace gasps lightly when he sees her directing those two fingers of the middle towards her cunt, under her button. The prince gets worried, and then he nearly yelled when seeing those finger just disappearing into her womanhood.

-Ow, fuck!-. But he didn’t yell, because she seemed to like it so much. He saw how she gasped and smile, and began to move his hand with hers, making them fingers to come in and out.

-Oh my gods, heavens-. He whispers, shocked, feeling the wet insides of her. He gasps, looking at the enjoyment on her face. Jace breathed fast, starting to make those moves by his own, taking his fingers in, and then out.

-Yes-, she shrieks, making her hips to dance in circles. He blinks bigly, moaning lowly when hearing the sound it was making-. Yes, yes, oww fuc- yes Jace-. Daera grunts, biting her lips-. Faster-, she whispers.

-What?-, he fears.

-Stronger!-, she demanded.

The prince lifts a side of his lips, bemused, and started to make his fingers to go faster. That made the princess to moan quicker, and louder. Breathing fast, he also made his fingers to clash deeper on her interior, until reaching the end of it. Daera shrieks, as a dragon, pushing his head towards her.

Their foreheads met. They breath fast over the other’s face, looking at each other’s eyes. Daera’s are half closed, but yet are looking at him in the middle of her moans. That image will remain with the prince Jacaerys until his last day.

-Does- does it hurt?-. He asked, fearful and a little doubtful.

-Not at all, brother-. She moans, and he whined, biting his lips and going faster-. Yes, yes, fuck yes, Jace!-. She cries with great pleasure, humping on his fingers.

Taking a great liking to it, Jacaerys started to do it as fastly as he could, rapidly going in and out with his fingers while he whines. Daera moaned, lying her back again in the table, and twitching as if she was on fire.

Jace had the greatest of ideas. He returned his mouth to her cunt, but didn’t apart his fingers from it. So, the princess now has the man’s round tongue and bulky fingers doing marvels to her wet womanhood, almost taking her to the skies above The Eyrie.

-Yes, yes! Holy fuck- fucks, Jacaerys!-. Daera cursed and laughed towards the ceiling, pulling his hair with no mercy, completely messing it up.

Breathless and decided, with tears on his brown eyes, Jace sucked on the button with softness, licking at the same time that he sweetly pushed his fingers inside of her.

And with this, Daera finished fairly. He admired how the princess suddenly clenched her legs and twitched in the table, moaning and breathing as if there was no air around her. She pulled his hair so strongly, and grabbed one of her breasts with violence, gripping it.

-Daera-. He whispers, breathless as well, looking at her all.

-Ow, fuck. Goodness…-, she sighs with her eyes closed. She licked her lips, and slowly opened her legs again-. Give it little kisses, Jace-. She orders. The prince was obedient, nearing his lips to the womanhood again, blessing it with soft kisses-…It does marvels when a lady finish-, she murmured with a smile, caressing his brown mane.

While pampering it with tender kisses, Jacaerys looks up to her. The princess smiled silly at him, biting her lips while pampering his hair.

-Oh…-Jace grunted-. I want to do it again-, he confesses, ready to start to lick again.

-Jace-, she quickly stopped him, closing her legs. The prince seemed so disappointed, and hungry, leaving his lips open-. You, um…-she caresses his brown hair-…you’re an expert already, I’m afraid…-the princess guaranteed, raising her brows.

When hearing so, the brown-eyed Velaryon prince smiled, with his heart beating fast and his face all wet. She smiled back at him, kind of amused, adoring his enthusiasm. He never lacks it.

-Then I shall ask you for the last time…-Jace murmurs, slowly coming down of the table. Still lying on it, Daera follows him with her clear eyes-. May I-

-Go ahead-. She nodded before he’d finish his sentence. Jacaerys presses his lips, sighing through his nose while looking and her-. As soon as you’re done, we’re off-. She closes her eyes, resting her head on the table. She hard silence-. Go, now!-. The princess ordered with a funny playful voice.

-Alright-, Jacaerys sighed, turning around, and walking away from the table.

After closing the doors behind him, the prince felt his knees shaking. He covers his own mouth and closes his eyes, moaning as lowly as he could. With a hand, he touches his pants, feeling how hard his cock is. It has been like that even before seeing his wife’s womanhood.

Knowing that there is no time to start thinking about what just happened, Jacaerys quickly directed himself to the High Hall of The Eyrie, standing firmly. And, when he arrived, Lady Jeyne Arryn turned her head to look at him, from her seat.

-My prince-, she raises her brows and smiles when seeing him arriving.

-My lady-, he nods, heading towards the throne with quickness. She parts her lips, tilting her head.

In less than ten seconds, she had prince Jacaerys kneeled in front of her, ready to satisfy her. Jeyne became almost nervous, raising her skirt with all the quickness of the Seven Kingdoms, easily giving herself to him.

Prince Jacaerys closed his eyes, and pretended this was Daera again. Lady Jeyne left out a moan within a second.

Meanwhile, Daera had stayed in the table of marble, lying on it while the breeze comes through the big windows of the lonely hall. Blinkless, she looks up, staring at the chandelier that hangs above of her.

Shocked, she gulps, lost in her mind.

She has just been unfaithful to Aemond. She cheated…

“No no no no, I didn’t!”, Daera quickly comes to her own defense, gulping. Come on, come oooon! It wasn’t cheating. “It was for the cause!”, she convinces herself, “Lady Jeyne Arryn is a woman of specific desires, that shall have them accomplished if they want her to do something” Daera knows this, Daera knows this woman. This was necessary!

She didn’t cheat on Aemond as much as she didn’t either back on King’s Landing, when she made Jace cum on his pants. It was for a…cause…as well. “Everything has been justified”, she swears.

But, being the truth unbeknownst to Daera's wish of feeling innocent, she lusted for Jace, during those prior moments. A huge part of her wishes to denies it, and does it. However, one can't never be too alone to not hear oneself. The Rogue Princess knows she desired her fake husband.

Oh, she wanted him. She wanted for them to do it. She felt so good when she grabbed his hair and violently made him to kneel on the floor to face her cooch. It felt so good to feel his breathing on her flesh, to have his tongue on her flower. It felt good, hells, didn’t it?

…Why?

With her brows curved, Daera gulps and blinks with shame, looking at the ceiling of the hall. Why did I -she started to wonder- if am a married woman, enjoy to have another’s mouth on my femininity?

Is it because of how betrayed she feels by Aemond? Did a part of her want to…betray him back? Is that it? This is her first possible answer.

In the last few days -which have passed too quick for her liking- her true husband has made sure to do evil doings, to act as the devil himself. Aemond had obliged her to abort her baby. He conspired against the crown, when his father's corpse had not even cooled, along his mother and allies. He placed Aegon in the throne, stealing Rhaenyra and Jace’s birthright. He had Rhaenys locked right below his apartments, probably left to starve if she didn't declare for Aegon, and he didn’t care.

Daera has been hurted by him time by time, every time worst, and yet she has showed incredible mercy from her heart, having defended him and think him good, despite his actions. However, perhaps a part of her did want to punish him for them. That part, it seems, is the very one that was incessantly burning for prince Jacaerys moments ago.

So, following this logic: she wanted to betray him too then, to be about. But here is where the logic falls: to what end? How is Aemond even supposed to know he has been betrayed by his wife? What, will she fly to King’s Landing midst war and shovel it to her face? Is Jace going to tell him? Hells no! There’s no way this “desire of justice” would be fulfilled, because Aemond won’t feel the same way as her, because he wouldn’t know it.

This takes us to her second possible answer, which she translated more into a question.

Is this her nature? To run to another man’s arms when things with him are bad? Another man’s tongue, better said. Is…is Daera the same girl she was before loving Aemond? Carefree and from bed to bed? She had never been with someone into a love relationship until she got into one with Aemond. He may not be her first lover but he’s indeed her first love.

Could it be that, now that she feels like she’s losing him, she knows she has the right to desire others?

Daera immediately gasped before her thoughts, feeling a great pain on her chest.

NO! She is not like that, she knows it! “I am not some harlot and I am not losing Aemond!”, she convinces herself of. No one can gainsay her. She made herself to erase every prior thought she had, and declared the truth answer to what happened with Jace:

It was for the cause.

The princess furrows her brows lightly when she started to hear moans from outside the hall, traveling through the hallways. They were female and very indecent, coming from the High Hall of the castle.

Daera tsks her tongue, rolling her eyes with a very bitchy face.

Oh, for the fuck’s sake! The moans started to get louder and louder, until the doors of the hall were almost trembling. Daera grunted with annoyance and had to cover up her ears, cursing in High Valyrian.

“I at least moan with grace”, the princess thinks, “this one does like a goat”.

■ ■ ■

Jeyne Arryn, Lady and Maiden of The Vale, kneel on the floor with grace and delicacy. She bowed her head and softly opened her arms to the sides of her body, having a light smile on her lips.

Jacaerys and Daera stand in front of her, side to side, looking down at her with prideful eyes. The princes start to look around when noticing all the knights of the surrounding kneeling as well. The Maester did too, and some servants in presence did the same.

Daera smirks, pressing her lips, and nodding at them.

Lady Jeyne raised her head, looking up to them with her glowing blue eyes. She looked at the prince, giving a slow blink. He gulped briefly, nodding at her. And lastly looked at the princess, widening her smile a bit more. Daera looked down at her with easiness but yet a little of taunt, biting her cheeks.

Still on her knees, Lady Arryn opened her mouth.

-The Vale is yours, my princes-. She declared, having faith in them, and in their mother's cause.

Jacaerys parted her lips, and Daera smirked with hers, deeply breathing in. She turns her head, and he did so as well, blinking multiple times with excitement.

The princes stared at each other with pride, and a big feeling of achievement.

■ ■ ■

Soon, Daera and Jace were arriving back to the woods. Jeyne became a little disappointed when learned that the princes weren’t staying the night, but was glad to see them off, knowing they had others pressing business. She gifted them two baskets of bread, cheese, ham and grapes. And a generous bottle of wine, for their troubles.

When feeling their riders close, both Kalistrox and Vermax lifted up their heads, glancing through the trees. And there they saw them, arriving while laughing between them. The golden dragon purred with a sweet hurry, shaking his neck.

The princess looked up when she heard them, and instantly laughed harder.

-Hey!-. She raises her eyebrows and scrunches her nose, almost running towards him. Jacaerys sided a smile, nearing to his dragon as well-. My love-, she whispers, caressing his neck’s scales while he touched a cheek against one of hers, purring.

-How did you behave?-. The prince asks funnily, scratching Vermax’s chin, making him to growl with softness.

Daera hums while caressing Kalistrox’s cheek, seeing his golden eyes looking around constantly, narrowing them while groaning.

-They don’t like the woods-. The princess points out, sighing. Jace does so as well, slowly walking away from his dragon after carrying one of the baskets on his saddle. When noticing he wanted to talk, she raised a hand towards her own dragon, and also stepped away from him. Kalistrox purrs lowly, seeing her go-. Could you imagine how dangerous it would be to raise dragons in a forest?-, she wonders, crossing her arms.

-A catastrophe-, he agrees, nearing to her with calm steps. The sun still lights above them, passing through the green leaves of around-. That’s why there’s sand in the Dragonpit-. He recalls with a smile, raising his brows.

-Ah-, she lets a laugh out, nodding. They laughed together.

While the breeze caressed their skin, clothes and manes, the spouses look at each other for some moments of silence. All they could hear was the wind, and their dragons’ breaths. She smiles a little, taking air in.

-How was it?-, she questions. The subject of the question was obvious, for the prince immediately sighed through his nose, and looked around with nerves.

-She is definitely sort of…a savage soul…-, he narrowed his eyes while his cheeks started to burn red. Daera laughed with taunt, nodding. Chuckling lowly, he looks at his feet and the grass under them, stepping on it. Seconds then, he looks up, finding her eyes-…Thank you for teaching me-, he murmured.

Daera’s purple eyes softened, and a light smirk crossed her lips while looking at him. The part of her that we were speaking of before started to get awaken again, for she briefly felt that desire again.

When she became aware of it, she gulped and smiled, pressing her lips and taking a step back while caressing an arm of his with gentleness.

-I’m afraid they will like the North far less-, she changed the subject back to the former one, raising her brows and cocking her head towards the dragons-. Jacaerys looked at her with softness, pressing his mouth too.

-Then we shall part now-. He proposed, lifting his chin-. So, they don’t last longer in it-, he says.

-Ah, we agree-. She winked an eye on him, making him to laugh briefly. Daera chuckles, starting to walk backwards-. Go on-, she cocks her head and he starts heading to his dragon as well-. We’re halfway home now, can you believe it?-. She chuckles.

-I can-. Jacaerys laughs with pride, jumping onto his saddle.

After accommodating the basket with her luggage, Daera took seat on her saddle, seating on it with a playful smirk while looking ta him. Holding his ropes, Jacaerys smiled back at her, biting the inner of his cheeks.

Before leaving The Eyrie, the princes asked Lady Jeyne for ink, paper and a raven. As The Rogue Princess and the Heir to The Iron Throne took the skies again with their dragons, a raven black as night left The Vale towards south, flying to Dragonstone, to deliver the Blacks word of they having wined The Kingdom of Mountain and Vale to their side.

And so, having the confidence that good news will arrive to their family, Jace and Daera rose up with their dragons together, again, flying as one, at the same altitude and speed, ruling the clouds and sun with their power.

They didn’t know bad news were almost to their way to Dragonstone too.

■ ■ ■

Kalistrox and Vermax fly low, making the breeze that reach them a little softer and kinder. Golden and green dragon both soar over a small-sized yet deep clean lake, which waters are almost like glass; it is clean, calm and transparent.

Leaning to a side, seated on her saddle, princess Daera turned her head and looked down, having a sight of the fishes than swims under the water, almost at the same speed they fly to. The princess giggled with sweetness, wrinkling her eyes.

Pines and all kinds of trees seem to be never-ending in The Vale. They have been flying for nearly three hours, and that green sight of leaves has been under them during all of them. This is not called The Kingdom of Mountain and Vale for nothing.

With a smirk on his lips, prince Jacaerys looks forwards while narrowing his eyes. He couldn’t find the river’s end, which made him to giggle with excitement, now wanting to follow the water’s way until reaching its last drop.

Having that goal in mind, he turns to look at his right. There, in the distance, Daera was smiling while looking at the water. Soon enough, she felt his stare, and seated back straight on her saddle to stare back at him.

They shared a look, and smiled to each other with warmth.

They looked at each other until a peculiar sound came to their ears: screams. Though they were not screams of fright, nor of hatred or bravery. They were screams of awe. Screams from…children.

Daera blinked with hope, and looked down again. By flying so low, her eyes easily found a group of kids, five of them, all yelling towards the sky with surprise and excitement, shocked by the magnificent view above of them.

By the river’s bank, the children jumped on their places and waved their hands towards The Golden Ray and Vermax, mesmerized by how the sun was shining on their scales and how the former’s wings were so large that the sun was no longer reaching their smiling cheeks.

As her dragon kept flying, undisturbed by those happy shrieks and salutes, princess Daera blinked with open eyes while a smile started to grow in her lips. Moments then, she grunted a laugh and pulled her saddle, looking down to the ground. Kalistrox immediately obeyed her, growling lowly, and turning around his huge body.

Curious, and smiling as well, Jacaerys pulled the ropes of his dragon too, and made him to turn. They followed, by far, with curiosity.

The children walk backwards with open mouths and shocked eyes, loosen up their shoulders and whole bodies when they see the golden dragon was heading right towards them. Kalistrox flapped his wings with slowness, calculating his landing. Meanwhile, on his back, Daera shushed him and caressed his scales.

Seconds then, The Golden Ray landed on the very river, fitting only less than half of his body, due to its shortness. The lake, deep enough, covered the dragon up to before what would be his knees. Kalistrox purred. Liking the feeling of mud and water on his huge paws and claws.

The five kids blinked with awe, mouth-opened, seeing how a brown-skinned lady of white long curly hair and purple eyes smiled at them from the back of the dragon, who opened one of his wings and extended it until reaching ground. The children walked three steps back, feeling the beast’s golden eyes always staring at them.

-Hello!-, a sweet voice came out of that woman’s mouth-. Hi to everyone!-. She chuckles, starting to walk on the wing her dragon has just placed for her.

-Ah! You’ll hurt him!-. One of the kids, a small brown-skinned girl -of perhaps five- gasped with worriness when seeing her stepping on the wing. Daera raised her brows towards her.

-Ouh no, I won’t-. The princess assures her, unconsciously walking slower-. See? I’m not!-. She laughs, leaning to a side to caress Kalistrox’s wing. The children hear his purr, and it made that little girl to chuckle with amusement.

Daera’s feet touched still ground, arriving in front of the children, separated by a modest distance. They looked at her with eyes filled of curiosity, and she looked back at them with gentleness, almost capable of touching their sweet enthusiasm and innocence.

-He is very strong-. The princess comments, raising her brows and pointing towards the golden dragon, whom they stared at with marvel, giggling a little.

-What is his name?-, one of the boys asked. He’s white as milk, and of brown eyes.

-His name is Kalistrox-, Daera answered with pride and softness.

-And what is yous?-, another of the girls, this one if pale skin, asks with curiosity.

The brown-skinned princess smiles kindly, looking at the five of them with easiness.

-My name is Daera-. She answered, starting to walk towards them, who smiled at her-. Now, I wish to know what are yours-. Her brows raised funnily, while her lips smiled warmly as the children approached to her.

As the day is almost reaching its end and welcoming night, the skies are dyed by a lovely color orange, and the clouds shaped like hearts and arrows -if we have some imagination-. The dusk at presence is a beautiful one, blessing those underneath it, in that river.

Prince Jacaerys landed Vermax on the other side of the lake, on firm ground. His young dragon purrs with calmness, thanking there was not a tree near enough to bother his comfort. Behind his green scaled tail, however, pines are plenty.

Jace came down of his dragon with calmness, standing on the grass with a relaxed posture. He sighed through his nose, caressing Vermax’s neck while looking across the river, looking at her.

Daera has taken seat on a rock that works well enough as a chair. Her legs are crossed, and on there the littlest girl is seated, the white one of blue eyes, whose name is Jocelyn.

There’s Jocelyn, the youngest one, of four. There’s Isaiah, of six, chestnut of brown eyes. There’s Marli, the brown girl, and her twin brother, Kezzie, of five.

-And where did you hear that?-, Daera scrunches her nose and smiles, looking at the girl on her knees, who had just told her that she knows dragons are from the moon.

-My mother told me-, the girl chuckled with pride.

Daera giggled, showing all of her teeth. She can’t help but to think of her Alyssa and her Visenya; two babes she never got to meet. She wonders if they would have been as sweet as this one, Jocelyn, is.

The princess, with no bother at all, has opened her ears to the children, hearing all the myths, tales and theories they have hard about dragons. This is the first time any of them have ever seen one, and they excited; she’s delighted to listen.

While seeing her laugh, Jacaerys walks from the other side with a thoughtful smile. With calmness, he’s walking to the other side, heading to a path of stones that help to cross the river by foot.

-Would you like some sweets, children?-. The princess asks with a curious smile, immediately receiving cheering and positives answers from the children, who quickly said yes-. You shall have them then-, she laughs, making a sign with two fingers towards Kalistrox.

The golden dragon growls lowly, and starts to extend his neck towards her with slowness. The children squealed with excitement, seeing how Kalistrox’s head was feet above of them when he neared his body to his rider.

-Seven heavens-, Kezzie whispered with awe.

Princess Daera laughs lightly, heading a hand towards the luggage packed near his neck. She opened a small pocket of one of the bags, and took a handful of honey sweets.

-Here you have-, she offers them to them, who instantly cheered and took al the mints, tasting their sweetness with happy smiles.

-Thank you!-, the little Jocelyn smiles as she tastes her sweet.

-You are very welcome, sweetling-. Daera chuckles, caressing the girl’s brown hair with softness.

Kalistrox started to growl from the deepness of his throat, staring forward with menace. Hearing him, Daera quickly turns her head towards the wood, parting her lips.

-Behind me-, she is quick to order, and the children were quick to obey, though they did it with confusion.

Agitated sounds come from the woods, and moments then a handful of armored knights came out from there, galloping with swiftness and distress, looking alerted. Daera pressed her lips, and Kalistrox immediately growled, lifting his head higher while looking down at them with fire on his eyes.

Jocelyn smiled to them.

-Daera-. Jace shot out running immediately towards there, feeling his heart twitching when looking at the armed men arriving.

The knights had come out of the woods with fierce, but quickly trembled when looking to the beast standing on the river, and raising to look at them with even more fierceness and menace. All the men trembled, and two fainted within the second, not having expected the sight of The Golden Ray when riding out of the forest.

-Ouh, well-. Daera tsks her tongue when seeing those two fainted on the floor. She sees the other men stuttering and trembling, forever looking at her beast. She holds Jocelyn tighter to her chest, not knowing who this people were-. Lykiri…-, the princess ordered to her dragon, who growled with fury, nevertheless.

-Daera!-, Jace reaches her, at last, standing right by her side, shielding the children as well, and looking at the knights with seriousness-. Make thy selves known!-. He ordered with firmness, while his wife just looked at them from feet to toe with interest.

-Hya!-

-Quick!-

Two screams are heard from the woods. Jace stands tensely, while Daera remains seated on that stone, rocking Jocelyn on her knees, simply studying the people and the situation itself. Her golden dragon, as fierce as always, studies nothing, and only waits for a command of hers. ´

Soon enough, two more men and their horses come out of the woods, but these are not knights as the other are. They wear fine clothes, fine boots, fine gloves, and a fine perfume. They’re lords, of course.

And out of those two faces, the princess Daera recognized one.

When the lords arrive, with worried expressions, they see Isaiah, Kezzie and Marli shielded by a brown-haired young man, and Jocelyn seated on a woman’s knees. A woman of brown skin, purple eyes and white curls that looked at them with serenity and curiosity, blinking one time.

One of the two lords is slim, chestnut, and eyes as brown as Isaiah’s. Aye, she kens who this man is. She met him years ago, on a trip she did with her grandmother, Rhaenys, to Lannisport. This is Leowyn Corbray, lord of Heart’s Home, a vassal house holding fealty to House Arryn of the Eyrie.

-Lord Corbray-, the white-haired woman greeted, siding a smirk.

-Princess Daera-. Gasping, the lord quickly bowed his head, full of respect. When hearing the girl’s name, and obviously having seen her looks, the other lord opened his mouth with surprise, now knowing who she was-. It is an honor, princess, to…make your acquaintance, once again-. He nods, looking at her again.

-It is indeed-. She leaned her head to a side, caressing Jocelyn’s hair-. This is my husband, prince Jacaerys Velaryon-. She presented him with a nod, placing a hand on his arm.

-An honor, my prince-. Lord Corbray bowed his head, as did the other one. Jace nods towards them with the same respect, holding his hands behind his back-. My princes, may I present to you…Lord Desmond Manderly, of White Harbor-. He speaks with manner, pointing at him.

-My princes, it is a high honor to meet you both-. Lord Manderly closed his eyes and bowed his head to them.

Daera and Jace looked at each other within a second with their lips parted when hearing where this lord is from. The North. White Harbor, the main seaport of the north. House Manderly, a vassal house holding fealty to House Stark of Winterfell…just where they’re heading.

-Lord Manderly, the honor is ours-. Prince Jacaerys says with a gentle nod, looking at him, and then at his wife for a second.

-It is-, she nods as well. Everyone keeps constantly eyeing Kalistrox, both marveled and terrified of his size and fiery eyes. He had retreated a bit since his rider told him to, but yet he doesn’t fail to shake all of their spirits, and knees-. We’re at Heart’s Home then, I take-. She guesses.

-We are, princess-. Lord Corbray answered.

-Ah-, the girl nods-. Why so far from home, Lord Manderly? If I may ask-. Daera questions with curiosity, narrowing her eyes for a moment.

-Lord Manderly has come to see to the arrangements of a settlement between our Houses-. Lord Corbray was the one to answer with politeness, making the princes to look at him with interest. He eyed Isaiah and Jocelyn for a second-. You see, we are to betrothe our youngest children-. He explained, raising his brows.

-Ah…-, Daera narrowed her eyes, while Jacaerys nodded-. Do not tell. This is your child?-. She questions, placing a hand on Isaiah’s head, who chuckled while looking at Lord Corbray, who smiled briefly.

-He is, princess-. He nodded, and then the boy ran to him, giggling. Daera formed a little smiled, which she chewed and erased, keeping a calm expression.

-Father!-. Copying his friend, Jocelyn jumped down from Daera’s knees, and ran towards the lords with an open smile, soon hugging Lord Manderly’s right leg. Daera raised her brows briefly, as did Jace, now understanding.

-And whose children might you be?-. Jacaerys mumbles with interest, turning to look at the brown-skinned twins, who looked at him with shyness.

-They are my cousin’s children, my princes-. Lord Corbray answered, then looking at Kezzie and Marly-. Your mother has been looking for you, twins-. He reproached, raising his brows. They just shrugged and laughed.

Daera breathes in and then sighs, quietly standing up from that stone, taking Jace’s side. She looks at the knights for some moments, noticing they were eyeing her as well. She found a smitten smirk behind one of those helmets, which made her to scoff.

-And you, my princes?-. Lord Manderly, with eyes as cold as the very White Harbor, look curiously at them-. Enjoying the warmth of The Vale as well?-, he wonders.

The princes both pressed their lips. They looked at each other, sideways, for two silent seconds. After them, Lord Corbray spoke.

-Though no raven has arrived to Heart’s Home from the capital, my eldest son has, this morning. He brought with him…grieving news, my princes-. Lord Corbray speaks with glum and respect, looking down. Jacaerys and Daera remain serious, staring at them-. We lament the death of our King…Viserys-, he said.

The wedded princes gulped and pressed their lips. They saw how Manderly made a similar expression to Lord Corbray’s, one of pity. Daera breathed in profoundly, looking around to the knights, the kids, the winds and the sun.

-I propose we find a more fitting place to treat such…troubling matters-. The princess said with determination, raising her brows towards the lords. By her side, her husband gulped, thinking of her passed grandsire, and the impostor that has taken his throne.

-We shall-. Lord Corbray was quick to agree, firmly nodding-. Please-, he pointed the way for the Valyrian princes.

■ ■ ■

Heart’s Home posses a castle of great height and beauty. It is of white marble, as most of the castles in The Vale. It is located on a mountain, of course, just behind the same woods of the river from before.

Turns out that Jocelyn, Lord Manderly’s youngest daughter, and her newly-betrothed, Isaiah, Lord Corbray’s youngest son, decided to gone out to play with their friends without notifying anyone. As soon as their parents became aware of their “disappearance”, they alerted the guards, who immediately went out to look for them.

As we saw before, the guards did find the children, only that they were not alone. It came of surprise to everyone to have the princes Daera and Jacaerys on Heart’s Home, with their dragons, calmly chilling by the side of the river, and playing with the young lords and ladies.

Now, after being formally welcomed in the Great Hall of Heart’s Home, the princes were escorted to another hall, a big one with big three windows, a wooden table of six chairs, and multiple paints of the castle and Vale itself. Only princess Daera, prince Jacaerys, Lord Corbray and Lord Manderly entered the room, besides two guards that joined them.

The spouses are seated side to side, and in front of them, the lords are too. In front of all of them, a warm nice supper is served, though none has eaten yet. The guards stand in the gates of the room, totally silent, as if they were not there.

Lord Corbray plays with his fingers, having a thoughtful look on his face. Lord Manderly thinks too, slowly blinking. In front of them, Jacaerys and Daera stare at them with quietness and silence, letting them think.

Both lords have just been informed that House Arryn -The Vale’s ruling house- had just swore loyalty to the princes’ mother, the Queen Rhaenyra. A paper lies in the table, being read time after time by the lords. It is Lady Jeyne Arryn’s handwriting, affirming her fealty to House Targaryen and the course of its true line of succession, which belongs to The Blacks.

They’re treating more with Lord Corbray than with Lord Manderly, being this his land. They’re letting him know, of course, that his lady paramount has joined to their cause. Almost obligatory he has to do the same. And, doubtless, he will.

-Dragonriders will be send here, to The Vale, to protect your lands and your families from any attack coming by green hands-. Princess Daera speaks with honesty, raising her brows. Lord Corbray caresses the paper, drawing the letters with his fingers while looking at her.

-Dragons in The Vale?-, he whispered, not hiding his surprise. Lord Manderly blinked with the same feeling, briefly clearing his throat.

-Aye-, the prince nods-. Your joining to our cause will be answered with both protection and gratitude from us-. He assures. He’s slouched, with his elbows on the table. By his side, his wife seats lady-like, with her hands on her legs.

Lord Corbray presses his lips, and looks at the both of them. Those purple Valyrian eyes of the princess stared at him with expectance and quietness. The prince’s brown ones are the same. The lord sits straight, breathing in.

-House Corbray will stand with you-. Lord Corbray dictated with decision. The princess started to side a smile, while prince Jacaerys looked at him with high respect. Lord Desmond listens closely-. Heart’s Home will be by your side, do not doubt it, should it come to war-. He declared, heartfully.

-You honor us, Lord Corbray-. Jace nodded, clenching his jaw.

-The Queen will repay your great disposition, my lord, you can be sure-. Daera smiles with gratitude, blinking calmly. Lord Corbray nodded towards the two of them, keeping a confident expression.

After a few seconds of silence, both princes directed their eyes towards the same person. Lord Desmond Manderly. He instantly became aware, and pressed his lips tight, not scared of eye contact.

“His turn”, Daera thinks.

Jacaerys taps his fingers on the table with softness, while the princess opened her mouth and narrowed her eyes.

-I have heard that…the Lord of White Harbor always arrives to the hall with a big laugh-, Daera raises her brows, and places her elbows on the table-. Does the distance from your house make you this silent, my lord?-. She questions with curiosity.

-No, it makes me this preoccupated, princess-. He answered with a hoarse voice, thoughtful. The confession surprised the princes and the other lord.

-What troubles you, lord Desmond?-. Daera mumbles with interest, leaning her head to a side. Manderly sighs heavily through his nose, staring at his supper, but feeling no hunger for it.

-My appetite is gone-, he says-. I came out from the walls of my city to find peace in this warm forest…for me to be with my children, and for my children to be with their sire-. Lord Manderly takes and caresses his fork, briefly raising his brows under their interested gazes-. What I find outside of my city’s walls…-he looks up at them-…is a war between kin-. The lord sighed with tiredness, letting the work to fall on the table.

Daera hided it, but she shivered in that moment. She thought about Jace, Daemon and Baela. Then she thought of Aemond, Aegon and Daeron. She thought of every member of the family, even of Alicent. It is as the lord says. They are one family, but of two sides. As it has always been…

-No war is taking place, Lord Manderly, with all due respect-. Jacaerys shook his head from side to side-. We are just taking caution, and assuring whose and which houses will be by our side if…-he gulps-…if the dispute reaches a peak-. He clarifies.

Lord Manderly blinks slowly while looking at the both of them, and then he scrunches his nose.

-In the North, kinslaying is cursed-. He commented with seriousness.

-It is everywhere-. Jacaerys instantly nods-, under the eyes of every god-. He raises his brows, recalling that, in the North, they worship the Old Gods.

-Blood from no Targaryen vein has been spilled-. Daera states with confidence, making the three man to look at her-, and neither will be, if The Greens see and realize that they do not stand a chance against us, if they see we have both The Vale and The North with us-. The princess stressed “The North” and raised her eyebrows, continuously tapping a finger on the table to get her point straight.

Lord Manderly breathed in, and then closed his eyes, briefly shaking his head and calmly standing up from his chair under the sight of all. He walks slowly, looking outside the windows. Jace and Daera presses their lips with patience.

-I am not the Lord of The North-. He shakes his head, sighing briefly. Daera hums lowly, clenching her jaw-. And you have come to The Vale looking for The Vale’s response. Here, I am only a coincidence-. He states, shrugging-…Why would you even want to convince me?-, his eyes narrow, speaking with humbleness.

Proud as fuck, this one is. Daera turned to look at Jace when he stood from the table too. The sound of the chair made Lord Manderly to turn, seeing prince Jacaerys rising with confidence while looking at him.

-Each flag that can fly next to ours is important, and for yours we would be eternally grateful, Lord Manderly-. The Heir to the Iron Throne spoke firmly, standing besides the seat of his wife, who looks at the lord with crystal serious eyes-. As we speak, we have Winterfell as our next stop, and there we’ll treat with the Guardian of The North-, he assured, surprising both lords.

-You’ll uh…speak with Stark too?-. Manderly questions with surprise, fully turning to him.

-Personally-. Jace quickly nodded-. And it would be a great honor to start our join to Winterfell by having the support of Lord Cregan Stark’s greatest lord vassal-. The prince declares with seriousness, nodding three times.

Lord Manderly looked down after blinking, thoughtful and flattered, most than all flattered. He hums lowly, constantly touching his white moustache. Prince Jacaerys waits patiently for him to think but, after a few moments, princess Daera stood up from her chair within a second, doing it fiercely and decided.

-We understand your fear about kinslaying, Lord Manderly. Trust me, we do-. She heartily nodded. She did kind of tell a lie, for her greatest wish has always been to murder her cousin, Aegon. “Who cares if I lie, anyways?”-. The last thing we wish for is war, but the first thing we want is the birthright of Queen Rhaenyra to be given to her, properly. But is has been plucked away by the usurpers-. Princess Daera speaks with courage, walking some steps pass her husband, who looked at her back with passion, agreeing with her words. Desmond reads her face whole, thinking-…We need you, my Lord-. She slowly declared, staring at him.

Lord Corbray sighed, more than convinced by the princes’ words. Pass some silent seconds, Lord Manderly came to speak.

-White Harbor is not unsympathetic to your mother’s plight-. Manderly declared, opening his hands towards them-. Mine own forebears were despoiled from their birthright when our enemies drove us into exile on those cold northern shores-. The lord remembers, narrowing his eyes for some seconds-. When the Old King visited us so long ago, he spoke of the wrong that had been done to us and promised to make redress-. Desmond tells with his hoarse thoughtful voice.

Jacaerys and Daera listen carefully to him, hearing his story. Lord Corbray does the same, interested too in the tale of his friend.

-In pledge of that, His Grace offered the hand of his daughter Viserra to my great-grandsire, that our two houses might be made as one…but the girl died, and the promise was forgotten…-, he spoke with a kind of shame and pity, pressing his lips to then sigh.

And, understanding what was being asked of them, the princes realized they are facing a bargainer shrewder than Lord Corbray. Daera gulped, turning her head to look at Jace, who bit his cheeks and also looked at her. They stare at each other in silence, talking with their eyes.

The spouses were quick to decide that they must do what it must be done, for the sake of their family and their safeness. So, moments later, the princes stared at the awaiting lord back again, at the same time.

-I understand that you have two younger daughters, Lord Manderly-. Prince Jacaerys says, walking forward-. The youngest, Jocelyn, will marry Lord Corbray’s youngest son, am I correct?-. He raises his eyebrows, reaching his wife’s side, who briefly tilted her head.

-Indeed-, Desmond quickly nodded, interested. Daera gulps, crossing her hands over her plain belly.

-We have a little brother, Joffrey, the same age as your other daughter-. The princess says with firmness, and his lord’s eyes began to shine. Jacaerys breathed slowly, closing his eyes for a second-. Joff will marry your daughter, as soon as all the fuss is over, and Rhaenyra seats the throne-. She declared.

And, so, Lord Manderly let out a big laugh.

-We have a compact-. Desmond vividly nods, approaching to them. Jace smiled slightly, while Daera just nodded-. Now that is worth fighting a war for-. He snickers with confidence, narrowing his eyes.

The brown-skinned princess blinks slowly, traveling in time for a second, and remembering when she herself was forced into a betrothal, to Jace. She couldn’t help but gulp, thinking that she’s now doing the same for her lovely and innocent Joffrey. “He’s so young” she sorrowed. But perhaps that is for the best… And it indeed is for their cause.

Gaining back her posture, Daera breathes in and comes out of her mind. When she does so, she looked down, finding Lord Manderly kneeling before the two of them. She parted her lips, nearly smiling, and narrowing her eyes.

-Your mother’s birthright will be recovered, and we shall have our Queen-. Lord Desmond said with determination, looking up at them. Jacaerys clenches his jaw-. I swear to you the fealty of my men, my house, and my soul-. He promised, truthful, not blinking once.

Prince Jacaerys and princess Daera breathed in with deepness, staring at the lord in silence. Seconds then, they turned their heads to look at each other. When glancing at the other’s eyes, they found similarities. They’re shining. Pridefully and victoriously.

■ ■ ■

The princes weren’t staying the night at Heart’s Home -even though it is already dark-. They would fly until reaching The Neck, where they would make camp and feed their dragons. Afterwards they’ll head to Winterfell.

When the two lords at presence learned of the princes’ plans, they both made their own contribution.

Lord Corbray gave them warm furs and bed sheets, along a basket of fresh bread and salted meat, for them to find as much comfort as possible in their camp. Personally, he gifted a wee silver dagger to the princess, even though she already had one on her belt. She thanked him, and promised him to let him know how she’d name it when she’d find the proper alias.

Lord Manderly took the trouble to redact a letter and send it with a raven towards Winterfell immediately. In the paper, he announces the Valyrian princes’ arrival to the Guardian of the North, Cregan Stark. As his greatest lord vassal, Desmond knew his lord would appreciate the heads up. The raven will arrive first than the princes, for they will make their stop at some point. Nevertheless, the bird won’t.

The day has officially ended; thus, the night has officially arrived. One day. One day, and Jace and Daera won for their side the fealty and loyalty of three big houses of Westeros.

That was something that Kalistrox and Vermax celebrated when, once again, they took off from the ground, and continued their voyage again.

Both dragons shriek loudly and sharply as they soar with fastness above that river. The moon shines right above their heads, lightning all the surroundings and whereabouts beautifully. Older and younger dragon fly side by side for some moments, until Vermax roared and flapped his wings faster, taking off to the heights. On the other hand, Kalistrox flew even lower.

The Golden Ray roared with power, caressing the water with his wings as he flapped them on it two times. Water splashed on Daera’s face, and she laughed heartily when that happened, having a bright smile on her lips, and a great shine on her purple eyes.

The princess chuckled and pulled her saddle, scrunching her nose. Kalistrox shrieked and immediately dipped his body high and higher into the skies of above. He flaps his wings with fastness, quickly getting away of the river, of the woods, of a soft breeze.

A strong wind blows on the princess’ face, and she laughs while crossing cloud after cloud, until her dragon gave a harsh flap an got them out of them. They reached a clear dark sky, to which Vermax welcomed them with a happy shriek. Kalistrox roared back with the same greeting, shaking his long neck.

The prince Jacaerys turned to look at his right with a smile on his face and red on his cheeks. Princess Daera did the same, flying right by his side while looking at him while giggling, having her hands in the air, all perfectly lighted by the blessed moon of this day.

Daera licked her lips, and Jace pressed his, the both doing it with high pride. They felt it in the air as they looked at each other, it is obvious. They are a perfect match. A powerful couple.

They will win the Seven Kingdoms back.

The spouses blink, and turned their heads to stare forward, having the same pride on their eyes while riding their dragons. They faced the moon, more than ready to face everything that their next and last destination could give them.

Winterfell.

■ ■ ■

Had their brother’s “shorter, safer” flight gone as well, much bloodshed and grief might well have been averted.

The tragedy that befell Lucerys Velaryon at Storm’s End was never planned, on this we can all agree. The first battles in the Dance of the Dragons were fought with quills and ravens, with threats and promises, decrees and blandishments.

The murder of Lord Beesbury at the green council -by the hands of Ser Criston- was not yet widely known; most believed his lordship to be languishing in some dungeon. Whilst sundry familiar faces were not seen about court, no heads had appeared above the castle gates, and many still hoped that the question of succession might be resolved peaceably.

The Stranger had other plans. For surely it was his dread hand behind the ill challenge that brought the two princelings together at Storm’s End, when the dragon Arrax raced before a gathering storm to deliver Lucerys Velaryon to the safety of the castle yard, only to find Aemond Targaryen there before him.

■ ■

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camilbarnessss · 5 months

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 12 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

The matter has been decided, then. Jacaerys and Daera would fly to The Eyrie, in The Vale, and then towards Winterfell, to gain support from the North. Lucerys will go south, to treat with the greatest lord of the Stormlands, Storm’s End’s lord, Borros Baratheon.

Everyone in Dragonstone already know this, save prince Daemon, who still remains disappeared between the mountains and the rock hills of the island, since this early morning. Nobody truly knew what he was up to and, honestly, nobody seemed to care enough, for they were attending to more pressing matters.

The morning keeps advancing in time whilst most of the staff of Dragonstone help prepare everything the young three princes will need for their travels, from a meal before parting to their packing and their most needed personal artefacts.

And, while the servants are kind enough to completely worry about this, princes Jacaerys and Daera are in his chambers, still not properly dressed to part, but readying all the abouts of said departing of theirs. They both stand side to side, looking at a huge map of Westeros the prince is owner of.

-We’ll get to The Eyrie today, of course, hopefully before nightfall-, Jace says with a calculating voice.

-Aye, we’ll be there before the sun leaves-, his wife nods, licking her lips. She narrows her eyes, twisting her mouth for a second-. Luke’s flight is faster than ours, of course-, she points Storm’s End in the map, and The Eyrie at the same time.

-His is an hour shorter, or perhaps even two, considering the strong winds of the Stormlands-, the prince bops his head to a side. Daera breathes in deeply, feeling tension on her shoulders. He side-eyed her, sensing her worriness-. And Arrax is still small, he shall be swifter with that wind-, he says.

-Yes, or more helpless-. She quickly refuted, raising her brows. He presses his lips, looking at her. Seconds later, she sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head, and reminding herself that she should not worry-…If treating with Jeyne Arryn turns out fast, which will be, we’ll leave to Winterfell this very night-, she decides.

-We shall-, he heartily agreed.

The doors are opened, and Ser Erryk comes through them, opening his mouth to talk, but princess Daera was quicker.

-The fuck you want?-, she questioned within a second, not even looking at him. Jace gasps, and the knight just blinks.

-Daera!-, her husband scolded within an ashamed murmur. The princess remains with a sharp expression, looking at the armored one for a moment. He looked at her too, silently and serious-. Please speak, Ser-. Jace allows.

-My prince, my princess-. He bows his head to both-, the princess Rhaenys-. He announced, taking two steps back.

Afterwards, their grandmother walks into the room, quietly. She wears her riding armour, for she’s already ready to depart to The Gullet, as it was settled. Seeing her, Jace and Daera both remained silent, only nodding. Ser Erryk bowed, and walked out again, closing the doors of the room. Rhaenys watches them with interest, seeing them reading a westerosi map.

-Alright-, Daera sighs-. We’ll not be tired yet after gaining The Vale, so we’ll leave immediately to Winterfell, right?-. She keeps making the plan they were doing before.

-Right-. Her husband instantly nodded-. Which is…very, very far away-. He sighed briefly, twisting his mouth while analyzing the map. Rhaenys walks slowly, analyzing them instead. They’re deeply concentrated in their matter, the both of them with the same calculating eyes-. Here-, he points.

-Oh, yes-. Daera raises her brows, looking at the spot he’s tapping with two of his fingers-. The Neck-, she nods.

-We’ll camp in The Neck, right after crossing the border between The Riverlands and The North. We will be more than halfway there; it will be the perfect time to rest, and to feed the dragons-. He planned.

-Mind that we’ll be close to the Kingsroad…we cannot fly up there. We do not need anyone but our objectives to see us-. Daera shakes her head, and he nods with interest, listening to her. Rhaenys blinks quietly, halting her walk, and standing close to the table, in front of them. She stares at the two blue sapphire rings her granddaughter wears.

-Yes, you are right-. Jacaerys mumbles, nodding-. Then we’ll be keeping our distances with Moat Cailin, and Castle Cerwyn-. He declared.

-Also with Torrhen’s Square, which is partially on the way-. The princess points to the map. Her husband nods slowly, agreeing. His wife hums, seeing what else they could cover.

-A fine strategy-, princess Rhaenys spoke, for the first time since she entered the rooms. Both princes looked up, staring at her with raised brows and serious expressions, lightly nodding-. Are you ready, then?-. She asked.

Daera breathes deeply in, afflicting her throat. She turned her head to look at Jace, who did the same to look at her. He almost started to smirk.

-My prince-, Ser Torres, Jace’s sworn protector, sneaks his head into the room, making everyone to look at him-. The dragonkeepers are asking for your presence, my prince-. He informed with a kind tone.

-Thank you, Ser Torres-. The prince nodded. The knight did so as well, and walked out again. Jace fixes his posture, looking at both woman-. If you’ll excuse me-, he politely says.

-Go ahead, we’re done here-. His wife allowed, while Rhaenys just smirked tinyly to him, nodding.

Afterwards, prince Jacaerys left with his Sworn Protector by his side. Daera’s, then, made sure to close the door. She and Ser Erryk shared a quick glance, where her eyes were cold towards him. The knight just pressed his lips, and closed.

The room gets filled with silence. The younger princess stares at her map, nodding to herself.

-You seem to feel rather displeased by your Sworn Protector-, Rhaenys notices, starting to wander around the room once again, stealthy and slowly, looking at her from head to toe.

-Aye-, she affirms, not trying to hide it-. He helped the Greens to hide that Aegon raped a child the other day, and the gods know who else-. Daera informed with no desire of being discreet, she even spoke a little louder, perhaps so the White Cloak would hear her.

Rhaenys raised her brows briefly, perturbated by the fact. She gulped while walking, remembering those cheers in the Dragonpit that dared to call that monster a King. She killed at least the half of them.

-Hmm…-, Rhaenys looks thoughtful, quiet. Before her silence, Daera separates her gaze from the map, looking at her with a light interest-. Sometimes even the purest of heart can be terrified by the most dangerous-, she pointed out with a calmed tone.

-“Purest of heart?”-, Daera repeated, furrowing her brows-. That man did nothing to help that child-. She refutes, speaking fastly.

-That man brought Rhaenyra’s crown to her-. The older princess spoke quick as well, raising her frown with confidence. Daera seals her lips, serious, shaking her head a little-. He made himself an enemy of that falsehood, of the Fake Crown, without anyone having asked him to do it-, she pointed.

The Dragon Goodness remained silent, glancing at the map again while gulping. For a moment there, she recalled all the times she would go out to Flea Bottom with Helaena, and how she’d always encounter the Cargyll twin in the abouts and joke with him. Until knowing about Dyana’s rape, Daera was actually…nice with him, she remembers.

-If it wasn’t for him, well…-. Rhaenys breathes in deeply, looking at her own rings of silver, and gulping with some unquietness-…perhaps I wouldn’t even be here, nor speaking with you, granddaughter-. She confessed.

Such confession confused the youngest prince, who furrowed her brows and parted her lips with alert, not understanding.

-Ser Erryk was the one who helped me out of my bedroom-cell, and who guided me through the savage mob of Flea Bottom to head to the Pit-. Rhaenys tells her with honesty, looking at her. Daera is left speechless, opening her eyes widely-. He fought brother and turned his cloak to the Greens, to help me- to help us-. She says, briefly nodding with her head under the surprised look of her granddaughter-…I owe him my life-. The Queen Who Never Was declared.

Daera breaths out, in shock, blinking hugely. Everything started to make sense, as why he arrived just hours after Rhaenys did, with that crown and willing. He not only escaped the Greens during the fuss, but…

-He took action before all even started-. Rhaenys pointed out. Daera gulps strongly, feeling a lump on her throat by the only idea of her grandma under the possibilities of being murdered by those monsters-. That’s how desperate he was to flee Aegon’s side…-, she muttered, scoffing.

-Grandma-. Daera sighs, in shock, approaching to her-. Why- why you hadn’t told me?-. She asked with worriness, taking her hands in hers, gripping her fingers.

-We hadn't had much time alone since my arrival-, Rhaenys answered with a soft tone, looking down. She stares, again, at those blue rings the girl always wields. In that moment, the older princess’ face became somewhat tired, and disappointed-. And besides…you rarely pay attention to me…-, she muttered, weary.

Daera quickly looks down too, realizing she was eyeing the rings. Aemond. Daera’s lips trembled with weakness. She pressed them tightly, and drew her hands away from her.

-Grandma!-, Daera gasped with discomfort, stepping back and walking away, not looking at her again. Rhaenys immediately followed, going behind her with quick steps.

-I am not afraid of telling you “I told you so”-. Her firm voice scolded with no repentance. The younger princess, feeling her trembling lips again, walks towards the balcony, going slower while receiving the fresh sea breeze-. He was always his mother’s son, Otto Hightower’s grandson and Aegon’s brother first than your husband. He always was-. She pointed out, shameless, speaking the plain truth.

Princess Daera stands on her balcony, facing the sea with a glum face. Her tired purple eyes rest in the ground while she twists her shaky lips. Her beloved’s image doesn’t leave her mind as he’s being spoken of with ill.

Rhaenys breathes in deeply, feeling her granddaughter’s pain while she speaks this way about him. This is not the first time that such scenario takes place, at all. But she does hope this is the last time, though.

-Their never-ending lust for the throne was always that family’s doom, and shall continue to be it-. The Queen Who Never Was speaks and walks firmly towards her, getting closer.

-On that we agree, grandma, but he’s not like his family-. Daera spoke quickly and trembling, instantly defending him, which made Rhaenys to sighed tiredly, and to answer immediately.

-I never liked Aemond, Daera-. She denied. The princess furrowed her brows, closing her shaky lips-. He may had been sweet you for a time, but he always tasted and smelled like poison, and now his true colors are truly coming out-. She warned, firmly and serious, staring at her white curly mane. Rhaenys gulps, keeping silent for three seconds while her eyes got soft-…It pains me deeply to see that it had to come to this for you to realize it, my dear one…-, Rhaenys confessed within a low tone.

The Rogue Princess listens with a sour expression, shaking her head. Pentos flashed before her eyes, forbidding those ill words of Rhaenys to get into her mind.

-We still have time to recover the Iron Throne without shedding blood. And if we are, then he also has time to realize what he is doing, and repent it-. Daera dictates, raising her brows. Her love for him is making her to speak as if she doesn’t know him, for the true Daera knows that Aemond would first let lighting struck him than to admit that he was wrong-. He’ll come around-, she muttered, sure.

-Daera!-, Rhaenys grew desperate.

-He is my husband-. She suddenly turned around, facing her again, with sourness and firmness-. I thought that you, more than anyone else, would understand that I cannot give up on him so easily!-, Daera raised her brows.

-He already did on you-. Rhaenys spoke within the second, unfazed. Daera felt her heart sinking in that moment, almost stumbling. She clenched her jaw, breathless, lightly shaking her head-…as soon as his father died. He had the first chance, and didn’t let it go-. She pointed the truth with no mercy. Grim tears started to appear on the younger’s purple eyes-. As I wasn’t’ going to declare for his brother, he didn’t care about leaving me to rot in that room, locked and alone…-. Rhaenys murmurs, serious.

Daera whimpered for a quick moment, keeping a strong face, but she wanted to cry. Oh, she wanted to cry so hard when picturing Aemond leaving her grandmother to starve, or to the King’s Justice hands, just because she didn’t declare for Aegon. Hadn’t Ser Erryk helped Rhaenys…would he really have done that? No. She will not believe that.

-You’re angry…-Rhaenys mumbles, staring at the sapphire rings again. Daera fastly hid her hands behind her back, gulping strongly-…but you don’t hate him… yet-. She bopped her head to a side, analyzing the situation-. You are the eldest, Daera. You’re suppose to be the wisest-. Rhaenys scolds with bemusement, shaking her head.

With her eyes filled with heavy tears that still haven’t fallen, Daera shook her head from side to side, harshly clenching her jaw.

-I expect to punish Aemond myself, grandma-. She declares, and Rhaenys narrows her eyes, listening to her-. I plan to force him on his knees, to make him cry out of pain and to beg for pardon. I’ll make him to sing his pleading of loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra-. Daera talks with harshness and angriness, poison like-…But he’s my husband…-, she stressed, once again, lowering the tone of her voice.

Rhaenys parts her lips, bemused.

-I fear for you, child-. The grandmother confesses, muttering. The granddaughter blinks-. I fear that your blindness regarding the truth may lead you to…extreme madness, when finally recognizing it…-, she whispers.

Daera gulps, remaining silent. For a moment, only for a moment, she wished to express all her pain to Rhaenys, to cry on her arms. She wished to tell him how she and Aemond were going to have a child, before all of this. “I didn’t drink my Moon Tea that night”, she’d tell her. But that would only get Rhaenys’ panic to a higher level, when hearing that Aemond then asked her to do drink the tea instead.

“So first he promises you a bastard, and then obliges you to get rid of it”, she kens Rhaenys’d say. Daera hates that word, and Rhaenys hates Aemond.

So, no tale of the gone Alyssa was told.

-Have hope, grandma, please…for my sake-. Daera sighed after long moments of a tensed silence-. Trust that, at the end…everything will be fine…-, she trusted heartily.

Rhaenys gulps strongly, with two tears on her cheeks. She stares at her beautiful first grandchild, who has grown to be so strong and graceful. They will part ways, for now. She has no more desire of fighting, but to farewell her.

So, Rhaenys took the girl in her arms, wrapping her in them. Daera sobbed strongly, hugging her too, closing her eyes harshly.

-Be careful, dearest…-. Rhaenys weakly whispered.

-You too, grandma-. Daera mumbled as well.

The Queen Who Never Was kisses her granddaughter’s two cheeks with deep love, having a great lump in the middle of her throat. She trusts Daera in everything, but this.

■ ■ ■

Prince Lucerys walks through the hallways of the castle. He is all ready to go now, all dressed and armed, all settled for him to leave to Storm’s End.

He goes walking firmly, and yet, he’s noticing how the people around is looking at him as he passes by. And there is worriness in their eyes, from the cook’s to even some of the knights’ and guards’. The reason is simple: they don’t believe him capable of taking this errand by his own, without his brother or sister.

Lucerys could get mad with the people looking at him, but how could he blame them? Because it is true; he has never done anything without Jace, Daera or Rhaenyra’s help. They’ve pampered him too much, and now this is the cost: he’s unreliable. But he’ll show them. He’ll show them all he is as capable as all the rest of his family.

The prince reached the nursery of the castle, opening the doors to walk into it. Inside, he finds his siblings, the lot of them, who immediately looked at him. On a divan, Joffrey is seated on Baela’s knees, being hugged by her. Rhaena rocks Viserys in her arms, tenderly, as well as Daera is doing with Aegon the Younger. Jacaerys stands close to his wife, smiling to the babe on her arms.

The siblings all agreed to gather here, before their departing.

It was impossible to not think of the fact that another babe should be with them at this moment, but Visenya is gone and…well, they’ll have to live forever with that pain.

-Well-, Daera sighs, softly rocking Aegon while looking at all of her siblings after Luke closed the doors behind him-. We will be…apart, during some days, then-. She said, speaking with a twisted small smile.

The Rogue Princess and her husband are ready as well to leave. Jace wears fine clothing and a long cape that shall keep him warm. Daera has covered her arms again, hiding her wounds, for she’s wearing a long-sleeved black dress, perfect to ride, as well as her leather boots. They both carry swords with them, and a small dagger is hidden discreetly in the prince’s belt.

-The days will pass quickly-, Baela assured with a hopeful tone, caressing Joffrey’s hair, who remains snuggled up on her knees.

Jacaerys blinked softly, staring at Baela, Joff and Rhaena, and forming a slow smile on his lips as he took steps closer to them. The three of them looked at the other three with dearness and yearning, already missing them.

-How long you’ll be gone?-. The little boy asked, sadly. Rocking Viserys, Rhaena pressed her lips and looked at them. Daera sighed with a tired smile, while Jacaerys cocked his head, and Luke was the one who answered.

-I’ll return the sooner, Joff-. He promised, nodding to him. Daera looks at the blue-eyed prince, lightly gulping-. I may even be here already for tomorrow’s supper-, he smiled, lifting his cheeks.

-Really!?-, Joff opened his eyes big, excited, which made them all laugh-. Oh well then- then it won’t be for too long!-. He realizes, relieved.

-No it won’t, sweet thing-. Daera assured with dearness, smiling at him. Joff twisted his lips into a happy smile, staring at her. Discreetly, Luke also took a glance at her, pressing his mouth.

Softly sniffing Viserys’ head, Rhaena blinks with slowness, thoughtful, looking at the floor.

Jace sighs through his nose, fixing his eyes on the middle sister, who looked back at him with firmness. He blinked calmly, looking at her.

-You’ll be in charge now, Baela-. The prince dictated, whilst his wife neared with slow steps, rocking Aegon and looking at her too with a trusted tiny smile-. See that everything is in order while we’re away-, he asked.

-I will-. Baela answered with firmness, staring at both their older siblings, who smiled at her with confidence-. You shall find things in order, when you come back to us-. She promised, serious and sincere.

-Good-, Daera nodded, softly raising her brows.

-There is…- When they heard Rhaena's discouraged voice, everyone turned their heads to look at her-. There’s no way of making you all stay, is there now?-. The younger girl questioned with severe sadness, already knowing the answer.

Lucerys parted his lips after gulping, nervously moving on his place. Daera furrowed her brows, carefully placing Aegon on his cradle. When hearing her, Jace walked towards her.

-Rhaena-, he sighed her name, placing his hands on her shoulders, and gripping them with dearness. She gulps, tired, while rocking Viserys-. We have been apart before-, he pointed, smiling with sadness.

-Not in the middle of a war-, she mumbled shaking her head. Baela gulped, and Daera walked closer with sad eyes, understanding her fear. They’re all sad, to be honest.

-We’re not in war, we’re avoiding it instead-. Jace corrected, raising his brows. She sighed, just nodding.

Jacaerys gave her a look the same as Rhaenyra’s soft loving one. Afterwards, he placed a kiss on one of her cheeks, and then he hugged Baela, as their farewell, doing it tightly. Both younger sisters smiled to him with sadness, the youngest with a heaviest one.

Seconds later, Jace turned around while Daera walked closer; Lucerys looked at them both. Then, the three of them stared at each other with a weird kind of heaviness. They know they must leave, but a part of them wishes to stay.

-You’ll do greatly, brother-. Jace spoke towards Luke with trust, siding a smile. Luke furrowed his brows and corresponded the smirk, slightly nodding.

Then, the younger of the three directed his light blue eyes towards his older sister. They all recalled their discussion, and how they haven’t made peace since then. Daera looked at him, softly but serious. He gulped.

-So…-, Daera sighs, approaching to him while cocking her head to a side-…are you sure, then?-. She asked within a murmur, blinking softly.

Her bad.

-Why- why wouldn’t I be sure?-. Lucerys fastly furrows his brows, taking a step back. Daera stutters, quickly shaking her head-. You doubt of me too, don’t you?-. He scoffed, this time looking at all of them. Joffrey got confused.

-No, no-. Baela instantly shook his head.

-I cannot stand everyone treating me as- as some baby!-. The boy complains, uncomfortable.

-Luke, I don’t want to fight with you-. Daera says as calmly as possible, briefly showing him a smile.

-No. You don’t want me to tell the truth-. Luke shook his head-. But y’all will hear it-, he declared, looking at the others, who watch him with discreet worriness, allowing him to talk-. I am the future Lord of The Tides. Our grandsire is- is alive. I have time to get ready, more than enough, and now that’s what I’ll do, whether you pamper me or not-, he raises his brows, speaking bravely-. And I am sorry, Rhaena, but I am not willing to let my fright win over me…nor yours…-, the prince stated, somewhat shameful at the end, looking at his betrothed with compassion but firmness.

Rhaena’s sad eyes fell on the floor, keeping silence. Jace listens to his brother with his chin up, proudly. Joffrey looks up to him, admiring his total bravery, and Baela sighed, trusting in him too.

-I can do this, and I will-. Lucerys dictated, as firm as he could, though his voice trembled a little.

He looked at Daera. She breathed slowly through her nose, forming a tiny smile, and shaking her head from side to side.

-I believe in you, Luke, I always have-. She said, and he didn’t believe her-. I'll be able to talk to you well when we're done then…-, Daera foresaw, tiredly raising her brows.

- You will be able to talk to me well when you stop seeing me as a child-, Lucerys stated, not as an argument, but as a fact. She understood it otherwise.

-Luke, you are a child!-. She suddenly shrieked, opening her eyes big, and making him to flinch.

-Stop fighting!-., Joffrey instantly yelled, irritated. Lucerys, who was about to fight back, closed his mouth. Everybody made silence too, turning to look at the little one, whose lips trembled for a second.

Daera eyed Luke, then Joffrey, then Luke, and lastly Joffrey, sighing while forming a smile, and walking towards him with a playful look.

-Ow, Tamer!-. She scrunches her nose, and he starts to giggle when seeing her approaching-. You are my child, are you not?!-. Daera asked tauntly, lifting him up from Baela’s knees, and clearly making fun of Luke, on purpose.

From his place, Lucerys strongly rolled his eyes, breathing in deeply. Jace couldn’t help himself and laughed a little, walking towards his wife.

-Hells, I’ll miss you so much!-, Daera places loud kisses on Joff’s cheeks, making him to endlessly laugh. She smiles funnily, turning to look at her sisters, who looked back at her with tiny smiles.

Closing her lips and placing Joff back in the floor, Daera smiled to them with warmth and confidence. Jace arrived to her side with a similar expression, hugging her sideways, by the shoulder.

-This is it…-, Baela whispers, gulping.

Daera, Jace, Baela, Luke, Rhaena and Joffrey, all together in the same room with the babes Aegon and Viserys, looked between each other during seconds they didn’t want to truly pass. The feeling is a strange one, for this situation never happens. They are used to always be together, always enjoying each other’s company. Always by each other’s side.

The doors of the nursery are suddenly open. Daemon walked in with fast steps and a fast breath. They all turned with curiosity, seeing him for the first time in the day. For some, their last time.

The Rogue Prince breathes in with deepness and slowness, looking at each of them with his crazy eyes wide opened. His children look at him with calm and quietness, kind of knowing what he’s here for. He has heard the new of their departing, and has come to say goodbye.

And a single look was enough from him. Daemon watched at his oldest daughter, and Rhaenyra’s older sons, the three of them ready to go to fulfill their missions. He blinks, just one time, remaining with his lips parted, and a slow breathing.

He stared at Daera, who slowly raised her closed lips and lifted her cheeks. She smiled to him, calmly. He sighed longly, briefly moving his head to a side.

He trusts them.

-The Queen is calling for you…-, prince Daemon’s low voice mumbled. Baela, Joffrey and Rhaena turned to look at Jacaerys, Lucerys and Daera.

Queen Rhaenyra’s Envoys lifted their chins up, instantly attending.

■ ■ ■

And there she is, Rhaenyra, standing in one of the huge balconies of her castle in Dragonstone. The Queen faces the sea with a thoughtful gaze, lightly playing with the rolled papers she has on her hands. Ser Erryk, the White Cloak, stands a little far from her, quietly.

The wind blows Nyra’s hair and face, caressing both. She thinks about the errand she’s about to give to three of her children. Her heart is worried, she cannot lie to herself. She worries about Jace’s desire to be perfect in everything, and how that could get him in trouble. She worries about Daera’s bad temper, and how easy she can get into a fight. She worries about Luke’s innocence, for he sometimes doesn’t know how to face the world’s nastiness.

The Queen starts to hear steps getting closer; she knew they’re coming. She breathed in with deepness, slowly. On the other side, she knows they’ll do just fine, putting aside all their flaws. She has raised them with heart and soul, and this’ll show now, when they take this responsibility.

Daera, Jace and Lucerys arrive, all the three walking together. They see Rhaenyra turning around to face them with a calmed face, and Ser Erryk standing there in silence, with a huge book on his hands. The princess eyed him for a second, sharing a quick look with him while recalling what Rhaenys told her this morning.

-Your Grace-, Daera nods, looking at her.

Nyra looks at them too, briefly showing a smile. Afterwards, she looks down at the papers on her hands, sighing shortly.

-It is said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men-. She raises her brows. Luke gulps, eyeing for a second the great sea behind his mother-. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps-, a soft mumble left her lips.

Jace nods slowly, with his jaw clenched with seriousness. Daera remains with a tender face as she listens, with her head lightly cocked to a side. Rhaenyra looks at the both of them, and breathed in deeply when recalling their temper.

-But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms…we must answer to their gods-. She informed, and the girl inevitably furrowed her brows when hearing so-. If you take this errand, you go as messengers…not as warriors-. The Queen dictated, serious, shaking her head. Lucerys turned his head to look at his siblings, who looked back at him in silence, not liking the idea much-. You must take no part in any fighting-. She ordered.

-And…-, Daera sings innocently. Rhaenyra clenched her jaw when she starts to smirk-..what ifff…?-

-Swear it to me, now-. The Queen interrupted her, serious. Daera closed her mouth and sighed, knowing that it’d be useless to defy the Queen’s orders-…under the eyes of The Seven-. Nyra states, turning to look at the White Cloak.

Ser Erryk approaches to them, now revealing that he was holding a huge bible of Westeros’ most popular gods, the Seven. Daera couldn’t help but to gulp. Aemond’s religion, the one that she so many times has mocked and disrespected. “You’ve got to be kidding”.

Lucerys was the first to take a step forward, and to place his hand on the sacred book.

-I swear it-. The boy heartily promised, looking at his mother, who nodded lightly towards him, thankful.

Meanwhile, the couple behind glanced at each other with eyes of doubt. This is not their religion, true, but it is as Rhaenyra said: it is their people’s.

Serious, and almost in a menacing way, Nyra then looked at the both of them. Blinkless, she didn’t need a word to force them into the oath. Daera sighed tiredly, nearly rolling her eyes.

-Fine, fine-. She mumbles, taking a step forward along Jacaerys. The both of them placed their hands on the bible.

-I swear it-, he declared with honor, raising his brows.

-I swear it-, she babbled under her breath. Ser Erryk blinks reproachfully.

-What was that?-, Nyra narrows her eyes.

-I swear it!-, Daera repeated, now firmly and with determination. Without anyone’s realization, Luke bit the inner of his cheeks, nearly smiling with amusement.

Rhaenyra blinked softly, and sighed briefly, turning to look at the knight.

-Thank you-, she nodded. Ser Erryk stepped back again, returning to his place. Luke, Daera and Jace look at her, who eyed the papers on her hands-. Cregan Stark is…close than your age than to mine-. Rhaenyra confesses, looking up to the eldest siblings-. I would hope, that as men, you can find some common interest-. She said to Jace, who blinked with listening-…and as warriors too-, she added, eyeing Daera, who showed her a quick smirk.

Nyra offers the letter to them, and it was Jace who took it.

-Yes, Your Grace-. He agreed whilst his wife nodded. Rhaenyra looks at the both of them with a sided thoughtful smile, not only feeling but seeing too the confidence they have in themselves.

She looks down, twisting her mouth a little. Two seconds then, she looked up again. And she found Luke. He’s scared, and believes he’s good at hiding it. The Queen’s eyes got so softer.

Daera and Jace also looked at their brother, feeling their chest shrinking a little. It is hard, they must admit, to know he will be alone on his errand.

Rhaenyra bopped her head, signaling him to approach, and he instantly did, mouth-opened and with worried eyes that yet were curious, and brave.

-Storm’s End is a short flight from here-. Is the first thing The Queen assures with her characteristic soft tone-. You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys-. Nyra recalls with a hopeful tone, raising her brows. Daera blinks tenderly, forcing herself to not think of that lie-. And…Lord Borros is an eternally proud man-. She said it so confidently and almost funnily, that it made Luke’s heart lighter-. He will be honored to host a prince of the realm…and his dragon-, his mom promised, heartfully.

Lucerys closed his lips into a loving smile, looking at her with tender blue eyes that got calm for a least these brief seconds. She smiled at him too, shining with warmth.

He looks down, seeing their united hands. Silently, Daera watches at that too, internally thanking that he’s at least accepting Rhaenyra’s comfort, for he’s obviously avoiding everyone else’s. But if he is calm…then she’s too.

Rhaenyra caresses his fingers, motherly, and then places his correspondent paper on his hand, closing it.

-I expect you will receive a very warm welcome-, Nyra assures, tenderly and sincere. Luke smiles dearly, looking at her.

-Yes, mother- Your- Your Grace-, he nervously stutters, quickly correcting himself. Rhaenyra smiled, and he chuckled, looking down for a few moments.

She caressed his arm two times as he walked back to the side of his siblings, who quickly looked at him with softness. When Lucerys arrived to their side again, the three of them looked to the Queen again, for the last time.

Rhaenyra stared at the three with a frozen small smile on her closed lips. Her eyes shine while looking at them with slowness, taking her time. Her mouth made a little pout, a touched one, when she realized -perhaps for the first time- that they truly aren’t children anymore, that they’re no longer as little and innocent as they once were, when she could carry them in her arms.

That only means that…she has to let them go. And, so she did.

-…Go to it then-, Queen Rhaenyra permitted, raising her brows.

■ ■ ■

-…Are you ready, sweet boy?-. Daera murmurs softly, giving a light blink.

Kalistrox blinked as well, really slowly, purring sweetly as he feels his rider’s hands caressing his chin and one of his horns, pampering him. The dragon shrieks with dearness, feeling her body’s warmth near his.

They’re in one of the huge mountains of the island. And, near them, the princes Jacaerys and Lucerys are with their bonded dragons as well, each of them on a side of the hill, having their own space. Jace mumbles things to Vermax’s face, while Luke silently caresses Arrax’s neck.

The princess Daera chuckles a little, lowly, while hearing her dragon purr. In one moment, he opened his eyes again, and they became sharp and narrowed all of a sudden. He started to growl with menace, looking at some place. She realized a person was close when her dragon seemed distrustful.

With the strong wind blowing on her white curly long mane, Daera turns around, narrowing her eyes. And it was Ser Erryk, the White Cloak, who entered into their sight. The knight walks up the hill with a serious expression, which turned a little nervous when hearing the golden dragon’s growling. Daera parts her lips, narrowing her eyes.

The Cargyll twin stops walking at a very prudent distance, as far from the dragon as possible. His silver armor shined under the soft sun of the cloudy day. He stares at the princess, firmly and quietly, clearly waiting for her acquaintance. His mouth is closed, and his jaw tense, keeping a straight posture. He sees, from afar, those violet eyes watching a him; some strands of her white hair salute him due to the strength of the wind.

Daera hums lowly, caressing her dragon for a few more seconds. Then, she started to walk, heading towards the knight, who immediately clenched his jaw even more, maintaining his seriousness.

-Princess-, he greets when she’s at a close distance-. You asked for my presence, I was told-. He informed, holding his helmet between his hand and his waist, feeling how the breeze is also blowing his long long hair.

-I did-, she raises her brows, walking with her black leather boots, stepping on the short grass of the hill-. You came quickly-, she notices, briefly smirking. Ser Erryk takes a brief breath in, lightly nodding.

-I know you have an errand to attend, my princess-. The knight answered, and the princess smirks calmly, eyeing him from feet to head in one second. He keeps silence, waiting for a command or so. But, instead, he got another thing.

-My grandmother, princess Rhaenys, told me this morning about…about what you did for her, in King’s Landing-. Daera said, sighing at the end of her sentence, and finally arriving in front of him, halting her steps. Ser Erryk kept a straight face, though he did feel surprised. He wasn’t expecting the subject-. You helped her out of The Keep, when The Greens were…well, being asshole, as usual-. The princess mumbles, crossing her hands over her belly. Her heart ached when thinking of Aemond, as it has been aching lately, every time she thinks of him.

Daera blinks with a thoughtful face, staring at him. For a moment, he almost felt naked. Those purple eyes of her feel like the gods themselves are watching his every step, his every mistake and achievement.

-It was my duty, princess-. He answered, as firmly as possible.

-But it was not-, she shakes her head and shrugges with simpleness-. Your duty was to be by Aegon’s side while he was being crowned. Instead, you helped my grandma, and made yourself an enemy of the Fake Crown, a traitor-. She raised her brows, and bops her head to a side. The knight nearly gulps, almost looking down-. I thank you-, the Dragon’s Goodness said, and Ser Erryk’s lips opened, and his blue eyes blinked only one time. He’s speechless-. Honestly, I thank you for…everything you’ve done for us, in these trying moments-. She confesses, narrowing her eyes.

The White Cloak gulps, fixing his posture even more, clearly flattered, and hiding his nerved. The princess chuckles with no shame, pressing her lips into a funny smirk.

-My heart beats where justice lies, princess-. Ser Erryk declares, serious, with a light nod.

-Ow, we have ourselves a poet here-. She mumbled, and saw him nodding again. “Does he ever laugh?”, she thinks. Daera bops her head to a side, breathing in-. When Aegon raped Dyana, Ser Erryk, what did you do?-. She asked, from a moment to another.

He wanted to gulp. Instead, he answered immediately.

-The lady told me herself, princess-. He says, nearly with no emotion at all-. Afterwards, I went looking for the prince’s mother, and when I found her, then I-

-I want to know the answer of a man-. The princess interrupts him, fading his words in the air-, not that of a knight’s-. She clarified, sincere and serious.

Ser Erryk remained completely silent. He didn’t blink, always staring at the purple sky of her eyes. He gulped, looked down, and then looked up.

-I cursed the prince’s name, and cried to sleep, princess-. Erryk answered, as an honest man. Daera afflicted her throat, not having expected such a raw answer. She loved it.

Blinkless, she stares at him, and he stares at her as well, feeling that he’s almost letting his helmet fall on the ground, for his arms were losing their strength the more he looked to her. He sees her lips opening with slowness, and her teeth almost smiling. She’s alluring.

-Daera!-, a distant scream came from Jacaerys, who already is mounted on his dragon’s back, as well as Luke on his.

Daera gulps, and keeps staring at him, suddenly shaking her head for two seconds.

-I may now confess to you, Ser Erryk, that is an honor to have you as my Sworn Protector-. The princess spoke with firmness, nodding. He has been looking at her at all moments, but his eyes suddenly got shinier, perhaps, when she said those words. She noticed how that affected him, and she couldn’t help herself, and smiled-. Take care of everyone, and my family, while I’m away-. She asked, curving her brows for a second-. Take care of my siblings…please-, she sighed.

-You don’t ever have to ask, princess-. Ser Erryk mumbled under his breath, as honest as sure, not blinking once.

Daera felt the confidence on his voice, and the truth on his words. That made her to smile. That made her to laugh, even. She gifted him a full smile, showing all of teeth beautifully while looking at him. He noticed how her cheeks lifted, and how some small wrinkles appeared around her eyes. He knows guards, knights and protector are not supposed to smile, but he couldn’t help himself. Ser Erryk answered the princess’ gesture, smiling with his lips closed, and lifting up his cheeks with honesty.

Daera bit the inners of hers, chuckled, nodded, and then turned around, not looking at him anymore when she started to walk away. Ser Erryk sighed with his nose, and turned around, beginning to walk down the tall hill.

She goes sharpening her expression when she started to walk towards her dragon. Kalistrox growls, shaking his neck, and lowering it while she approaches. Both Jace and Luke looked at her, seeing the confidence on her face.

-Let’s end this treachery, then!-. The Rogue Princess yelled with courage, louder than the breeze and the ocean. At the same time, she walked up her dragon’s wing, climbing it towards his back.

Ser Erryk stopped walking, turning around his head with parted lips and opened eyes. He stares at the three beasts getting ready to finally depart. Their riders on their backs, fearless.

Daera turned her head, looking at her brothers. Jace looked back at her, nodding with the same confidence that`s on her face. They both nodded. She looked further, towards Luke, finding his eyes as well. Lucerys looked at her with nerves he so harshly tried to hide, but couldn’t. He closed his mouth, gulped, and looked away, pressing his lips. The princess blinked a few times, staring forward again.

Dragonstone hears a roar, one that made everyone to look up. Rhaenyra from the balcony. Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena from a low hill. Daemon from the castle’s gates. They all looked up, turning around when that roar was heard.

Vermax and Kalistrox appeared flying side to side, at the same speed and height, batting their greens and golden wings, respectively. Meleys flies somewhat behind them, soaring with her huge red wings. And Arrax, the youngest and smallest of them all, flies last.

The four different-colored dragons flew together for a few moments, the four of them by the same clouds and feeling the same breeze, constantly roaring while flying, making everyone to hear them. In Dragonstone, everyone did, farewelling them from the grounds, not being able to see their princes’ faces, their family’s faces.

Afterwards, each dragon took a different path, their correspondent one. The Red Queen went right, taking Rhaenys with her. The Golden Ray and Vermax kept flying forward, going faster than the others. Arrax and Prince Lucerys, then, flew south.

Luke turned around his head, looking at the castle for two seconds. He looked at the balcony his mother was standing in. His brows were up and his mouth open when he looked at his home before he and his dragon flew into a dense wrap of dark clouds.

Soon, no dragon was on sight.

From their hill, Rhaena gulped harshly. Her chest felt heavier than ever when she saw her siblings and grandmother disappeared in the sky. She saw her betrothed leaving, all by himself.

Joffrey looked down, sighing with his nose, tired and sad. Baela blinked slowly and calmly, sighing too, and then looking at his little brother.

-Come-, she softly holds his hand, and he gripped it, scratching one of his eyes-…You’re tired-, she mumbles.

-I am-. The kid mutters, starting to walk, and taking her with him. Baela hums with softness, grabbing him between her hands to carry him. Joffrey quickly hugged himself to her as he was being carried-. I’ll miss them-, he said with a weak voice, sad.

-There’s no need, brother-. Baela chuckled softly, walking down the hill while the wind blows her mane-. They’ll be back before you even notice-. She promised to him. And to herself.

Rhaena was left alone in the mountain. She cared little, actually. They’re already separated, anyways. The young girl keeps looking at the sky with heaviness and sorrow, hoping to see Arrax turning around and landing on Dragonstone again. Perhaps Luke forgot something, and had to come down to look for it. If he would…she would not let him leave again. Rhaena hoped Lucerys had left his gloves.

But he didn’t come back.

Someone arrives at the girl’s side, making her to turn her head around. Daemon stands by her right, looking at the ocean with seriousness and his characteristic neutrality. She stayed the same way, not even blinking, not even speaking.

Father and youngest daughter look at each other while the wind caress both their white mane.

-I don’t want to stay on a tower, looking up at the sun and clouds, while my betrothed and my siblings risk themselves out there…-, Rhaena said with seriousness, shaking her head.

Daemon looks at her with barely any expression on his face, cold and thoughtful. He listened. Blinkless, he raised a hand, and caressed one of Rhaena’s arms, from her shoulder to her wrist.

-Come with me-. The Rogue Prince said, turning around, and heading out.

Rhaena gulped, still not blinking. She looked at the sky again, at the empty sky. She thought about them. And after doing so, she gulped, clenched her jaw, and followed her father’s steps, going behind him with firmness.

■ ■ ■

Aegon has been realizing, quickly, that people now look at him in a different way. He is King now, and the respect that has raised between the walls of The Red Keep towards him is astonishing.

Ladies in waiting smile to him, guards follow him without even being asked before, and the people of Flea Bottom praise him. Hells! He has only been King for a few days, and he already has fucked every single woman that walks or breaths in front of him. The feeling is marvelous, and his reality a most attractive one.

“Days of glory seem to have arrived”, he is sure.

It’s like…fuck, it’s like everyone is finally seeing his true worth. It only took a crown placed on his head for people to notice. And now, under his reign, they have! Aegon’s word is law. Everything is more than perfect. He’s now thinking so high of himself, for he’s also realizing his true worth. He is The King of The Seven Kingdoms, for the gods’ sake. “I am the most important person of the realms”.

Ah, another important subject -besides him- is that his grandsire, Otto, arrived this early morning from Dragonstone, having already talked with princess Rhaenyra, The King’s half-sister. The Small Council had an immediate reunion, long before the sun had even risen.

Otto informed what happened on Dragonstone, including prince Daemon’s blood thirst. They’re now waiting for Rhaenyra’s promised answer she’s deliver to King’s Landing. It didn’t arrive yesterday, so the Greens are hoping for it to arrive today, as soon as possible. Most than all, Alicent is; the Dowager Queen hasn’t been able to sleep, to anxious for the answer and too angry that she still doesn’t has it yet.

When hearing his grandsire’s experience on Dragonstone, King Aegon grew restless. He couldn’t believe that his uncle, Daemon, dared to ask for The Hand’s head and didn’t receive punishment for it, for an insult to The Hand is also an insult to The King, and Aegon wasn’t planning on just accepting that, until his Hand told him so.

-Words are nothing but so, Your Grace. There are times when a King must take a threat heavily, but another times…lightly, to prevail peace-. Otto had spoken with his characteristic cockiness and firmness, when they were reunited on the table.

The King just looked away from him, rolling his eyes for a second, telling to himself that that was a very weak philosophy from his Hand. He’s The King! No threat should be taken lightly.

Today is a new day, Aegon’s third as King. Things have been…considerably calmer than they’re supposed to. Rhaenyra has kept her distance, as she should, and the people are content with their new king, as they should too. Dowager Queen Alicent, any ways, walks and speaks with a glum face, always nervous and stressed. But, we’re happy to say that something has brought her peace today: the arrival of her youngest son.

Alicent walks down The Red Keep’s stairs quickly. Her steps are fast and rhythmic. Her long red hair bounces on her back and shoulders, while she delicately holds her dress’ long skirt, watching to not trip with it. She goes through the hallways, she passes by lords and ladies, not even glancing at them. An anxious smile is on the Queen’s lips, and her eyes -very unusually- are shining.

-Your Grace-, Ser Criston, following her at all moments, keeps up with her and her swift pace. His armour clinks and his black hair bounces too as they quicky walk down the stairs. He sighs, stressed, watching that she doesn’t trip. She’s almost running!

Moments before, Alicent was in her chambers, seated by one of her windows while looking outside to Flea Bottom. It was so early that she was still wearing her night gown, which she changed herself toafter the Council’s meeting. Then she saw it. That swift dragoness, with scales and wings as blue as the night sky, of a medium size but of vivid soul. She saw it soaring in the skies and landing at The Dragonpit. Tessarion.

The tall gates in the hall of The Iron Throne are opened from a moment to another by the two guards outside. From there, Dowager Queen Alicent and the Commander of the City Watch, Ser Criston, came quickly into the room. She with an excited expression, letting out a sigh when she finally saw him.

Daeron.

Her youngest son, dressed in fine clothes of tender wool, is mouth-opened. The prince barely paid attention to the sound of the gates, for he was far too marveled in the sight he has in front of him, which is that of his eldest brother, Aegon, seated on The Iron Throne.

The young boy blinks with a dumb expression, taking the image in. The whole hall is empty, and yet his brother has been seating in there for the gods know how long. There’s a crown on his head, one he recognized as the Conqueror’s crown. There’s also a sword resting on a side of the throne…the Conqueror’s too.

The King stares down at his little brother with a cocky expression, knowing what he’s exactly thinking: “That I look great up here”. Aegon sucks his cheeks and narrowed his eyes when their mother suddenly stepped into the room, breathing fastly.

-Mother-, Aegon saluted, serious, giving a light nod.

When hearing the greeting, Daeron came out of his bubble. His brows furrowed lightly, and his head turned around with curiosity. That was when he realized that Alicent was at presence, standing in the entrance of the hall. She’s looking at him with parted lips and relieved eyes. He immediately forgot about his brother.

-Mom-, he gasped, quickly turning around fully to walk towards her.

Queen Dowager let out a very weak chuckle, but she did laugh, also heading towards him. Seconds then, she wrapped her child in both her arms, placing a hand behind his head, and the other on his back.

From the throne, Aegon pressed his lips, glaring at them. He felt jealous when seeing his mother so freely showing love to his brother. Why isn’t she like this with him too?, he wonders. He has seen her hugging Helaena too and, ha, let us not even talk about Aemond, who definitely is her favorite, but Aegon hasn’t realized that yet.

-Oh, mother-. Daeron whispers, hugging the redhead-. I am so sorry…for father…-, he muttered, so lowly, giving his condolences to her.

-We shall talk about that later-, she whispered back, talking over his chest. All of their children have grown taller than her, with the years passed.

Alicent closed her eyes, sighing deeply. The relieve she feels is one of deserved recognition. Her father, Otto, is already home, as well as her son, Daeron. She’s calmer, for sure. Now only Aemond is to arrive, which she’s waiting for deeply. The family would be united and, of course, they’d have Lord Borros’ answer.

-Now-, Alicent sighs, separating from him to pat his shoulders. He looks down at her with softness, holding her elbows-. How was your flight?-, she tries to give him a smile, though she’s so tired.

-I found kind winds, thank the gods-. The boy answers, and she nods, gulping for a second-. Oh, greetings, Ser Criston-. He saluted, becoming aware of the knight standing far from them, as quiet as always.

-My prince-, he greeted back, nodding. Daeron pressed his lips into a tiny smile, that soon faded when he looked down at his mom again, lightly furrowing is brows.

-Mother, what- what happened to the Dragonpit?-. He suddenly asked, making her lips to part, and her eyes to open wide-. I tried to ask the dragonkeepers, but they seemed sca-

-Brother!-. The King’s sudden call made the two of them to suddenly remember his presence. Alicent and Daeron turned their heads towards him, the two holding the other’s elbows-. You are always more than welcomed here. Your presence always lifts some spirits up…specially mother’s-, Aegon points, sometimes cocking his head from side to side.

Daeron breathes in, and then sighs, chuckling while he faced his brother completely, excited.

-I’m flattered, Your Grace-. The boy nods, shrugging briefly. Alicent closes her lips, facing Aegon too, now as serious as always. The King stares at her for two seconds, and then breathes in, talking again.

-We shall have a banquet this night, on your behalf and honor, brother-. Aegon announces with determination, raising his brows. Alicent quickly furrows hers.

-I’m afraid that’s far from wise, my King-. Dowager Queen speaks, shaking her head with heaviness. Both her sons remain silent, only that the youngest glanced at her with curiosity, and the eldest stared at her with seriousness-. The realm is still grieving-, she pointed, shrugging-. To hold a feast would make seem that-

-Yes, but I am King-. Aegon interrupted her with a clean laugh, wrinkling his eyes and scrunching his nose. Alicent remains blinkless, whilst Daeron made a surprised pout with his lips-…hence I decide when the realm grieves...and when it feasts…-, he cocks his head to a side, smiling.

Ser Criston blinks slowly, staring at the King, and then at the Dowager Queen, who is completely silent. Soon, she slowly closed her lips, gulped, and nodded towards the highest authority of the room: her son.

-Marvelous. So it shall be done!-. Aegon claps, standing up from the throne. Daeron looks up at him with pressed lips, sort of confused and uncomfortable, not liking the way he just treated their mother-. Today, we feast-. The King decided, grinning.

■ ■ ■

Aemond’s thin and hydrated lips were delicately sipping from a golden cup. The prince, as usual, is all dressed in black, covered by leather. He sips and sips, tasting an actual good wine, savoring the age of it.

After some more sips, the prince takes the cup away from his mouth, slowly. He dedicates to look around the hall he’s in. In a great hall of Storm’s End, he’s with people that dine and drink on the honor of his presence, and yet no one truly acknowledges him, not really.

Everyone is either dancing or toasting, drinking or eating. Lord Borros, in the morning of this present day, had arranged a “small breakfast with his closest companions” in the behalf of the prince Aemond. A mere excuse to have wine early, perhaps, but who knows? Again, the wine is good, at least.

Aemond’s night was little pleasant, to be honest. That chamber was cold, even though he left a fire lit the entire evening, and the bed wasn’t as nearly as comfortable as his own in the Red Keep. He hated the bed from last night. Huh, yes, we’re talking ‘bout the same man that had been delighted of sleeping on furs in the floor whilst being on some deserted lonely island, into a hut of wood.

The circumstances, of course, are entirely different. He always slept with the company of his wife on those furs. Here, last night, in Storm’s End, he was alone. He only heard his own breathing and only felt his own touch. Daera’s hands are always warm.

-My prince!-, a hoarse and enthusiastic voice called him.

When The One-Eyed Prince looked up, getting his eye away from the red wine on his cup, he found Lord Borros Baratheon heading towards him; he was not alone. The lord goes with a big smile, and four women behind him, all of them brown-haired of blue eyes. All of the four girls were looking at him. One was curious, one was nervous, one was scared, and one bored.

Susena, Floris, Cass and Maris Baratheon they are, respectively. The ladies of Storm’s End.

Prince Aemond left the golden cup on a table of wood. He clenched his jaw, and tilted his head slightly to a side. Afterwards, he hummed and stood up, feeling a pinch on both his heart and mind at the same time.

He doesn’t want to do this.

But he must.

So, he will.

■ ■ ■

Under the sun of King’s Landing, on her balcony, the quiet Queen Helaena sews a delicate embroidery. The girl’s purple eyes watch at how she sews the nylon with slowness and delicacy, not hurried at all.

She’s embroidering the figure of a white hart stag. She saw one in her dreams last night, and she found it so beautiful and magnificent that she’s now capturing its image with the thread, so as to never forget him. Something she did forget about his dream, unfortunately, is the person she was with. She knows that she saw someone petting the stag, caressing its horns and humming a familiar song, but now Helaena doesn't remember either the person or the song. Maybe continuing to embroider will help her remember, so that's what she has continued doing, although without fruit.

Helaena turns around her head for a second, taking a look to the insides of the room. In there, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera play vividly with their mother’s maid, Claudia. Both twins giggle and shriek with emotion as they play with toys along their nanny, who constantly gives them tickles and makes them to laugh.

The kids’ mother chuckles a little, scrunching her nose with sweetness while looking at them. Soon enough, Claudia became aware of her look, stopping the tickles for a second. While the children laughed, the maid sighed and pressed a smile on her brown lips.

-They’re growing fast, Your Grace-. The woman spoke with awe and dearness. When hearing so, the Queen giggled again, showing all of her teeth.

-Aemond-, Jaehaerys was heard babbling. Claudia chuckled, already used to hearing the prince’s name from the kids’ mouth.

Whilst Claudia returned to play with them, Helaena’s smile became a little crooked, and soon it disappeared from her face. Her heart hurted when she heard her son calling his uncle, who was still away in Storm’s End.

“He should be here, with them. Daera should be too. The kids miss both their uncle and aunt. They should be here, specially today”, Helaena thinks.

The doors of the room are suddenly opened, which made Helaena to flinch on her seat, quickly looking at there with terror. The first person that came to her mind was Aegon, which frightened her. But, against all odds, who came into the room was another brother of hers. Not Aegon, nor Aemond.

-Helaena!-, Daeron smiled hugely when he found her in her balcony, beautifully lighted by the sun of the morning.

She sighed through her nose, briefly raising her brows. She quickly got up of her chair, tiredly, feeling her body heavy, but yet she smiled, scrunching her nose while standing up.

-Sister-. The youngest brother neared to her with open arms. She chuckles a little, halting her steps when he reached her. They held hands, touching only their fingers. Her lips trembled a little-. You’re radiant-, he sighed.

-You have been missed, brother-. Helaena spoke with a tender and soft tone, tilting her head to a side, almost resting her chin on a shoulder of hers.

-I’ve missed you all too-. He smiles shaking his head-. Though it is a shame why I…had to come here today-. The prince lowers his voice, now speaking with a little of sadness. His sister had a similar expression, erasing her smile-. Father was…a good King…-, Daeron mumbles, looking at the floor.

Helaena slightly twist her lips, blinking with softness. When thinking of Viserys, her mind went back to her childhood, back to that time when he called her beautiful, and gave her sweets. Her fondest memory of him. He’ll be missed, at least by two of his children with Queen Alicent.

-Yes-, was all she said, whispering. Daeron looks at her again, soon having a smile back on his face. He grabbed her hands tighter.

-But you’re Queen, sister!-. He spoke with so much joy, surprised, raising his brows. His sister went emotionless, twisting her lips again-. Ah, mother must be so happy-. He tsks, wondering about that.

Helaena hums lowly, taking her hands off him, not wanting to touching him any longer. Daeron, knowing she has certain touch tolerance, only dedicated himself to smile, not offended. She gulped and looked away, not having like his happy statement about her being Queen.

Having grown up mostly away from King’s Landing, and his family, Daeron knows little about his siblings’ real life, very little. He may love them, due to the boy’s pure heart, but doesn’t truly know them, not really.

-Ah, gods, look at them!-. Daeron gasped and opened his eyes big when seeing Helaena’s children, who looked back at him with curiosity, not letting go their toys-. Hello-, he greeted the maid, who bow her head to him, serious-. Oh, wow!-. He whistles, nearing to the children.

Crossing her arms, Helaena smirks a little, staring towards there.

-They’re so grown-. Daeron whispers, shocked, smiling under the curious gazes of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

-…They turn a year today-. The children’s mother informed, sweetly and proudly, calmed. Her brother gasped, opening his eyes big.

Indeed, it has been a year since Queen Helaena gave birth to her twin firstborns. A year since that night on Driftmark, celebrating Lord Corlys’ name day. A year since all the fuss in the lonely parts of the beach, where prince Lucerys found princes Aemond and Daera coupling in a secret tent. A year since…everything changed forever.

-They’ll love their brother-, Helaena guaranteed, raising her brows with a proud smile.

-What?-, Daeron tilts his head, confused.

His sister giggles and, tiredly, places a hand on her belly, smiling down to it with dearness and exhaustion. Daeron, once again, gasped, letting out a surprised shriek. She chuckled lowly, nodding with her head.

Helaena’s is with child. Once again.

■ ■ ■

Darkness. Pure and whole darkness. If it weren't for the torch that Prince Daemon carries in one of his hands.

The Rogue Prince, at the moment, walks under Dragonstone. He goes through the tunnels of one of the subterranean caves of the island. The air is hot, the breeze inexistent, the echo remarkable. He hears each of the steps he gives. And, the steps of who’s with him.

Rhaena walks right behind her father, tightly held to one of his arms as they advance through the cave. The girl’s scared expression is lighted by the fire near it. She’s sweating, they both are, but the main reason of her sweat is her nerves, and uncertainty.

-Father…-, she whispered in one moment. Feeling her tight hold, Daemon hums. Just because, he thinks about how of his three daughters, Rhaena has always been the one of stronger grip, since she was a babe-…what are we doing here?-, she asks, whispering lowly.

After seeing Daera, Jace and Luke flying away from Dragonstone, everyone found a thing to do, for the errands in the castle are rarely scarce. Prince Daemon, as we may recall, called his youngest daughter to accompany him. She remained silent when realizing they were headed to the Dragonmont, but now, walking under the mountains and hills of her home…Why are they here? Why has he-

-Why have you brought me?-, Rhaena asked, still whispering.

-Even though your step-mother doesn’t see it…-. The prince begins saying, looking forward as they walk-…we’re at war-. He declared, sourly-. ‘Tis time we start acting like it-. Daemon dictates.

His daughter blinked slowly, gulping, and holding his arm tighter. She didn’t understand him fully, for he often talks with riddles -which he ironically hates from other people- but she did understand something that was clearer than water: he wanted to show her something.

From a moment to another, Daemon stopped, making her to stop as well. He turned his head to face her, and she raised hers to do so too, with her lips parted. He watches her in silence, reading the nerves on her eyes.

-From now on, follow me from far-. He ordered, lightly pulling his arm away. The girl instinctively held him tighter, not letting him go-. Rhaena-. Daemon murmured, calmed. She afflicts her throat, slowly letting his arm go. His sleeve is wrinkled. When having nothing to hold on to, she gulped.

Her father simply turned around, and started to walk faster. She gasped, beginning to walk right behind him.

-From far!-, a harsh whisper makes echo in the cave. Rhaena stops talking, gulping again. He kept walking, not looking back at her once. When he was at a considerable distance, she started to walk again, doing it tensely and nervously, always looking around. All she sees is stone-. And stay silent…-. He ordered.

Rhaena holds her own hands over her belly, sometimes scratching her fingers unconsciously. She gulps, and gulps, looking at the vivid flame her father carries with him as he walks, far from her. The girl thinks of her siblings, remembering that time that Jace snaked into one of the caves of the island, and nearly got himself lost. Uf, Nyra scolded him so hard that day, and he was prohibited to fly Vermax for a week. Jace’s hardest days.

Rhaena nearly smile because of her memory, but something got her instantly out of it.

-Drakari pykiros…-, a profound intonation made echo in the cave, coming from her father’s mouth-… Tīkummo jemiros…-. His feet reached stairsteps, walking on them.

Rhaena parted her lips when she heard him singing in High Valyrian. She opened her eyes big with interest, walking a little faster, never losing him out of sight.

-Yn lantyz bartossa-, Daemon sings while he walks up those stairs of stone. Rhaena soon followed him from far, looking at his back with puzzled eyes-. Saelot vāedis-. The prince glances at the floor, seeing how humid it was.

It’s not water, he knows, not from any leak nor dripping. This is steam. Breathing’s steam.

Rhaena walks between two columns of stone that stand perfectly, holding the cave in them. She stared at them with high confusion, and then at the stairs too. She didn’t know there was anything built down here, but the workhand is impeccable…yet so old and ancient. Where are they?

-Hen ñuhā elēnī, perzyssy vestretis-. The prince sings, slowly beginning to bent his knees. Right after the columns, Rhaena stops walking because he did too. She remains with her hands crossed, attentively looking at him-. Se gēlȳn irūdaks…-, Daemon sings beautifully, to her surprise, looking up as he reaches the floor-…Ānogrose…-, his voice was deep.

He placed the torch on the floor. It made echo.

She understand every word he’s saying, she knows he’s singing Hāros Bartossi, as she has seen him doing before, as well as her sisters, but why now, and here? Caraxes is not here, not even close.

-Perzyro udrȳssi…-, Daemon looks forward with open eyes as he slowly stands straight again.

A strange sound starts to be heard from the pure darkness in front of them, though it was not strange to them. Rhaena froze completely in that moment, afflicting her throat when she recognized that sound.

There’s a dragon hiding in the darkness.

-Ezīmptos laehossi…-, the prince looks there with carefulness yet full interest, alerted-. Ahh…-, he intones harmoniously.

Daemon’s voice was muted by the loud noise caused by a dragon that born within the darkness, suddenly lighting all the surroundings when he opened his big mouth to breath a mountain of fire, expulsing it all towards the ceiling of the cave.

Princess Rhaena gasped with terror, opening her mouth and taking two steps back while her eyes opened hugely. Her purple orbs shined when the flames got reflected in them. Her heart nearly stopped beating, but instead it started doing it violently and quickly.

The fire of the dragon lighted himself, showing the Targaryen princes his true colors and appearance, allowing them to see who they were standing in front of. Rhaena gasped time after time, shaking her head while looking up.

Vermithor, The Bronze Fury.

-Hae mērot gierūli…-, Daemon sings softly, almost sweetly, looking at him with no fear on him. Vermithor shrieks with an open mouth, nearing to the prince under his eyes. Breathing fast, Rhaena stares at the dragon’s face with marvel and fright, speechless. He’s so close to her father, ho didn’t even blink-. Se hāros…-, he stares at it with calmness and respect.

The dragon growled menacing, inches away from his face, showing all of his old and long sharp teeth.

-Prūmȳsa sōvīli…-, Daemon shakes his head a little while he sings with pure softness, letting the dragon to take his sing in. Vermithor purred and growled at the same time, looking at him face to face, seeing himself reflected on the prince’s eyes-…Gevī dāerī…-

And Daemon watched himself too in the dragon’s eyes, seeing himself rising his hands towards it, to touch it.

And meanwhile, his daughter stared in shock and awe, realizing that her father -doubtlessly- was preparing the dragon to be claimed by a dragonrider.

■ ■ ■

Fire breather

Winged leader

But two heads

To a third sing

The fires have spoken

From my voice:

And the price has been paid

With blood magic

With words of flame

With clear eyes

To bind the three

To you I sing

As one we gather

And with three heads

We shall fly as we were destined

Beautifully, freely

■ ■ ■

North of Dragonstone the sky is a mix between blue and orange, a lovely sea with gold sprinkles, a beauty to the eye. Not a cloud is around, but two dragons are.

The breeze blows Daera’s white curly mane, looking like a cloud in the middle of so much blue in the sky. Such a strong wind sneaks into her dress, keeping all of her body fresh. The princess, riding her beloved Kalistrox, turns her head, glancing to her right.

Prince Jacaerys rides his dear Vermax, that green dragon the same age as his, with as much calm as he can have in these moments. Though the sky is calmed, he’s not very much. On his mind he goes reciting the terms they’ll take to the Eyrie and to Winterfell. He knows they have to be perfect.

They’re almost arriving to The Vale already, for the wind and clearness of the skies have been the loveliest with the princes and their voyage.

After looking at Jacaerys for some more seconds, Daera sighed deeply and returned her sight forward, slowly closing her eyes and breathing in. She thinks of Aemond. Oh, Aemond.

Rhaenys told her so many things this morning, when they were alone at Jace’s chambers. Her grandmother was nothing but direct and brutally honest. Daera knows it, she just doesn’t want to accept it. Hells, the girl doesn’t even accept that she doesn’t accept it. She swears her husband will eventually see which is the good side, even though he has spent all of their marriage remarking and remarking that he belongs to the other one.

“But this time is different”, is Daera’s argument. Yes, she and him have argued many times about Green and Black, we know that. But now we’re talking about war threats, war times. For the fuck’s sake, is different! Her husband won’t leave her side during these harsh moments. He promised he never would. And she believes him; she believes Aemond is a man of his word.

Daera feels light tears coming up to her eyes, which she closed harder, breathing deeply though her nose. She pleads that everything turns out fine; she knows it will, for it has to. Daera knows there can’t be a version of the story where they do not get out of this one.

Jacaerys and Daera, our princes, are so far from everything. They’re flying above of everything at the moment, so high in the sky, ruling it side by side, as they one day will with the Seven Kingdoms.

Being this far, how would they know that while they fly -while they inhale the fresh air and constantly give each other small smiles- in another part of the gigantic sky the worst of the worst is happening? How would they know that that will break their soul, hearts and sanity when word of it reaches their ears?

Being this far, how would Daera know that Aemond was never a man of his word?

Being this far, how would any of both know?

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #hotd season 1 #hotd #hotd season 2

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camilbarnessss · 5 months

Text

Guess: young or old Rhaenyra's eyes

Difficulty level: *EXTREME*

Go down for revelation

#house of the dragon #targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen mother #milly alcock #emma darcy

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camilbarnessss · 5 months

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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 11 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, explicit sexual content, mentions of death, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

-Aemond!-

We are, at the moment, in another land. We’re not at King’s Landing, nor Driftmark. Hells, we’re not even at Dragonstone.

-Hmm…do you like it, doll?-

-Yes! Fu-…fuck!-

We are not at Lovers Island either, a place we are very fond of. No. But, we indeed are with those lovers owners of the island. In a luxurious and most fresh manor, located in a city full of commerce and tales, we are with them.

So, here is where we are. In Pentos.

The princess lies on the huge bed of their room. There’s not a single cloth on her brown silky body. The only thing she wears is her husband’s mouth, in the middle of her wide-open legs.

-JESUS CHRIST!-, Daera roared when feeling a spicy bite.

-Who- who Is Jesus Christ?-. Aemond questioned, suddenly confused.

-Don’t stop!-, she squealed, pushing his head from behind with one of her hands.

The prince chuckled from deep his throat, reuniting again his thin marvelous lips to his wife’s cunt, which is endlessly and beautifully dripping, covert in desire for him. Daera moans loudly, closing her eyes and sighing with a smile full of pleasure.

-Yes…-, she thanks.

Aemond hums, grabbing and squeezing her thighs strongly as he breathes in deeply, trembling. He sucks her purple clit, sucking it all between his lips, teeth and cheeks, never letting it go. Such pressure made her wife gone to madness, causing her to scream in High Valyrian towards the ceiling, clashing her feet against the soft mattress.

-Gods, Ae…!-. Breathless, she squeals, curving her brows.

He loves her enjoyment. He could feel she’s almost coming, for he knows her to well, so he wanted her to finish with the most glorious of feelings. And, as we know, he’s an expert in granting her this.

She bites her lips while looking at that shiny blue sapphire that stares back at her from the middle of her legs. Daera cries, feeling the damping in there, hot water dripping out of her as the prince’s tongue goes in and out of her whole. She sucks her cheeks, trembling.

Aemond blinks with softness, looking up at her while he massages her thighs with his ten long fingers. He squeezes the leather belt in one of them. Moments then, he places one of those fingers in her hole, sticking his tongue out. For a moment, she felt an emptiness, but this was greatly brief, for two fingers came to fill that empty hole, going inside of her. The prince moaned when hearing the slushy sound his fingering made, while the princess roared, lit in the fire of her great pleasure.

-Yes, yes, yes! Oh fuck- fucks, gods, Aemond!-. Daera twirls in bed, squeezing her own tits as she burns from within. He smirks, licking his lips and moving his fingers endlessly inside of her. Oh, when he curves them, molding them as a hook, grasping her littlest breath away-. FUCK, FUCK!-. She yelled.

The one-eyed prince blinks in awe, mesmerized by her lust. He hums, kissing one of her inner thighs. Then, he sticks his tongue out again, and licks her butthole without stopping the thrusting of his fingers. The white-haired woman laughed in that moment, with no air, squeezing his long white mane between her fingers. She felt a force pulling her chest; she moans.

-Oh-, Daera coos, curving her brows-. Love, I am-

-Come-. He mumbles, as breathless as her, keeping the same rhythm on his fingers. He hears her squealing, so sharply. He sees her twirling, so marvelously-. Come, goddess-. He smirks, narrowing his precious eye.

-Fuck!-, she growls, closing her eyes strongly-. AEMOND, OH dearest fuck-! Oj! OH!-, she throws her head back.

Aemond saw the Seven Heavens when, at the moment of reaching her glorious point, she harshly closed her legs and trapped his head in the middle of them, squeezing him. The prince moaned along her, taking the chance to suck again on her clit, feeling it beating and pulsing as a heart. Daera cries and laughs out loud at the same time, having the greatest of climaxes, while her husband, breathless, granted her some last seconds of full ecstasy.

Moments then, he came to breath again, when she opened her legs, letting them loose and wide. Daera’s chest comes up and down as she regains her breathing, having a satisfied smile on her shiny face. Aemond opens his eye, face to face with his work of art. Her cunt, wet and swollen. Beautiful.

-Fuck…-, the princess sighs, tired. Her husband hums, placing a dozen kisses on her legs and inner thighs. The last one was on her clit, which made her laugh, naughty-. Come here, handsome…-, she whispers, biting her lips.

Aemond smirks, licking his lips, and climbing on top of her. He crawls with his hands and knees, slowly. Daera giggles and raises her hands, meeting his boney cheekbones. She caresses them as he looks at her from above, smiling. The princess bites her lips, once again, lowly moaning while she stares at the maker of all her orgasms.

It is just dawning here, in Pentos. The room whole is painted by a strong golden sun that comes from the huge balcony of the room. Most of the city still sleeps, while the other part already wanders around the street. They, nevertheless, attend to their own matters.

Perhaps it is not necessary to clear it up but, just so that we’re sure…we are in the past. For this is just a memory, one of the many of their Seventh Heaven.

They woke up at the same time, miraculously. They planned on to get breakfast but, as we just witnessed, The One-Eyed Prince didn’t need to go far to find a proper meal. Neither did The Rogue Princess, who before this also had breakfast with his body. His cock, to be blunt.

-Ouh, to wake up like this every day…-. Daera wishes, funnily, while he snuggles next to her, both naked. He chuckles, raising his brows and nodding-. I would always go to sleep if knowing we’d wake like this-, she jested.

-I’d have no problem in fulfilling your wishes, while we’re here-. He mumbles cockily, making her to smile. He breathes softly, staring at her gorgeous face, which is all illuminated by the golden sun, as well as his. She smiles, giggling-…My wife-, he mumbled, placing a kiss in one of her strands of white hair.

-Ah, my husband-. Daera sighed too, placing both her hands under her chin, endlessly looking at him. With a light smirk, he eyes the blue sapphire rings on her fingers. Soon, she glances at them too, immediately smiling wider-. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?-. She questions, mumbling.

-Yes-, he quickly responds, calmly. Aemond starts to rub his fingers against hers, caressing them with love. The princess stares deeply at him, in love, giving a soft blink.

-How did you know the exact measure of my fingers, love?-. She questioned in a low voice, interested. Forming a calmed tiny smirk, Aemond neared his lips to her hands, and placed a kiss on both rings. Mesmerized, she looked at him with loving eyes.

-Luckily, sometimes your sleep is too deep-. The prince answered with taunt. His wife instantly laughs, making her face to shine. He chuckles as well, scrunching his nose for a second-…We were in our island, and you were tired after we drank, and made love-. He goes mumbling, and she listens with a fairy-like gaze-. It was not a hard task, to grab your hand, see your fingers and…count the lovely inches in them-, Aemond murmurs with softness, caressing both rings.

-Every sentence you speak, Aemond…-she sighs, closing her eyes for a second-…sounds like poetry, did you know that?-. Daera whispers, mesmerized. Flattered, he giggles a little, pressing his lips while staring at her.

After seconds of lovely looks, he leans front, and kisses the two rings again under her enamored violet eyes. While kissing them, Aemond’s hand traveled to her thighs, and there he caressed the leather belt wrapped in the right one.

-Oh…-, the one-eyed sighs. She hums lowly, sucking her inferior lip for a second, not taking away her eyes from his.

-I will never take them off-, Daera promises-. Nor my rings, nor my belt, for they are yours as well… As well as myself-. The princess declares. The prince stares at her with deepness and dearness, keeping silent-. I want to always have a mark of you in me-, she confesses with no shame, raising her brows.

-You shall have it-. He mumbles, nodding-. As I shall have yours as well-, he nods to a side, referring to his leather eyepatch, the one made for her to him. Daera smiles lovingly, nodding for a few moments.

-When we are away from each other again, when I’m back at my home and you back at yours…they’ll be our marks of each other-. She murmurs with dearness, looking at the deep violet ocean on his eye. Aemond hums, sighing through his nose. He couldn’t agree more.

-…Never take them off…-, Aemond asked, caressing her curly mane.

-Never-, Daera quickly agreed, narrowing her eyes.

Afterwards, they both start to grin. Husband and wife, merely inches away, smiled lovingly to each other, breathing each other’s air, and feeling each other’s skin. The both of them chuckled, going on for a kiss.

■ ■ ■

Aemond’s only eye stays fixated in a blank, for he is lost on his mind, deeply. His lips are parted while his breathing is slow, and heavy. His face is illuminated why a dim fire near him. The chair he's seated in, of wood, is cold as metal, and uncomfortable.

Just moments ago, we were in the prince’s thoughts. In his memories, to be exact. The image keeps repeating on his mind, once and once again. Daera smiling under the sun of Pentos, naked, warmly, approaching to give his mouth a kiss.

Every warm image fades away from his mind when a violent and loud thunder broke out in the sky. Aemond flinched on his seat, pressing his lips and turning around his head to look at the window of stone that remains in the other side of the room. From his seat, he sees lightnings coming and shining every two seconds, and more thunders heard from not too far. Outside is raining harshly, since hours, and hours.

The prince gulps, turning his head back around. He looks up to the shelf above the fire, where some of his belongings are. He only looked at his patch, his leather patch, the one his wife made for him. He has taken it off, for he’s almost going to sleep. Though, alas, a sixth sense of him is letting him know that perhaps he won’t get any sleep tonight.

Aemond blinks slowly, standing up from the ugly chair. He takes the patch, and caresses it with his two thumbs. He gulps, once again, thinking of his love, the princess Daera. When doing so, he can’t but to sigh with heaviness, wondering a thousand and one things.

By now, she probably already knows it all, about Aegon’s coronation, the threat of war. Perhaps his grandsire already visited Dragonstone and told them the terms. “How did it go?” he wonders. “How does she feel? What is she thinking? What is she thinking of me? Does she…despise me, miss me or hate me?”, the prince opens his eye big while thinking of this.

The Targaryen man growls, lowly, returning the eye to the shelf, and walking away from it. Crossing his hands behind his tensed back, he starts walking all around the room, thoughtful, stressed. He walks pass the big bed, the big bookshelf, another big chair. Everything is here is too big, he has noticed. No delicacy or classiness, much less an effort in an agreeable interior design. Nothing like his home, in The Red Keep. But, right now, he’s away from there.

With Aemond Targaryen, we are at Storm's End. Bastión de Tormentas. The seat of the formidable and strong House Baratheon.

Aemond arrived after midday, right before the moon replaced the sun, though in this place it feels and looks like it is always nigh time, for the heavy clouds of storm barely allow any sun ray to pass. "Helaena would hate this place", was one of the first things that crossed Aemond's mind when flying through such dark skies.

And, despite the coldness of the place, the prince turned out to receive a very warm welcome. Ignoring the fact that more than half of the courtyard guards urinated themselves when Vhagar landed, everyone looked surprised and amazed when his arrival was announced. Were they waiting for it, perhaps?

On the Baratheons behest, it was most surprising to have the prince under his roof just hours after receiving word from his home, for just hours before his arrival they had learned that they had a new King, the prince's older brother, Aegon. As for the other side of the coin, they haven't even heard a word from King Viserys' supposed heir, princess Rhaenyra.

Borros Baratheon was a man of much different character than his father. "Lord Boremund was stone, hard and strong and unmoving", Queen Alicent told his son before seeing him off. "Lord Borros was the wind that rages and howls and blows this way and that", she described to him.

Though his mother told him as much of the Lord he was to meet with, prince Aemond had been uncertain what sort of welcome he would receive when he set out, but Storm's End welcomed him with a feasts and hunts and jousting. Two of each in only one day, just for the prince to enjoy.

Lord Borros is an eternally proud man, and he nearly clapped with joy when seeing that he had a prince of the realm under his roof, and his dragon. And, oh! with what great offers King Aegon II sent his brother to his land.

The servants served a fine supper only for the prince and the lord. They dined in a warm great hall and, in there, Aemond let him know what he was after.

-Companionship, my lord-. His hoarse voice spoke with mannerism and delicacy. Seated in front of him across the table, Borros narrowed his eye, really interested-, between our houses. To take our causes, and mold them as one-. The prince says, calmly.

-And which cause would be yours, if I may ask? -. The lord asks with a smirk on his face.

-To preserve my brother's kingship as what it is: his birth right-. Aemond states, being carefully listened by all the men in the table-. It was my father's final wish for him to be seated on the throne. And I swear this to you, as I witnessed it myself-. He says, and kind of lies, for he knows of Viserys' final wish only by his mother’s mouth. But, to be frank, Aemond does not care 'bout lying if it is about his shitty father.

-Ah...-, Borros nods slowly, curious. He, then, narrows his eyes, smirking again. He's so bluntly interested, which Aemond looked with a fake smile, pressing his lips-. And my cause, what would that be?-. He questions.

-Protection, of course, from the Crown-. The prince raises his brows. The Baratheon lord closes his lips, fading his smile a little.

-Protection, yes...-, he murmurs, almost losing interest. Aemond hums, narrowing his sharp eye, and lifting his cheeks into a cocky smirk.

"Forgive me, please, Daera"

-And, as I understand, a fine Lord always looks after a fine betrothal for his heirs-. The prince adds with confidence, raising his brows.

In that moment, Lord Borros looked up with shiny eyes, lusting for the proposal the prince just spoke out.

-I have four daughters-, the lord told the prince, who gulped for a second, playing with his fork under the table-. Choose any one you like-, he spoke with total disposition, nodding.

-Hmm-, Aemond fades his smirk a little, thinking of his wife-. It will...be my honor, my Lord-. He nods.

-Cass is oldest, and she already flowered, but Floris is prettier. Ellyn is very fond of children, but if it's a clever wife you want, there's Maris-. Borros speaks fastly and proudly of his girls while he sips of his ale under the silent eye of the prince.

Aemond just listens, not even nodding. He didn't like any of those names, and he's more than sure he won't like any of those girls either.

During the supper, Lord Borros came to speak a truth only for the both of them to hear: Rhaenyra had taken House Baratheon for granted for too long.

-Aye, princess Rhaenys is kin to me and mine, some great-aunt I never knew was married to her father, but the both of them are dead, and Rhaenyra...she's not Rhaenys, is she?-. His lordship told Aemond, cocking his head.

-Hmm-, he just hummed, shaking his.

-I have nothing against women-. Lord Borros went on to say-. I love my girls, for a daughter is a precious thing-. He confesses, with true dearness shining on his eyes when speaking of his children. In that moment, Aemond gulped, thinking about the Moon Tea he made Daera drink. Alyssa. He shivered harshly-. But a son, ahh...should the gods ever grant me a son of my own blood, I'll tell you, my prince, Storm's End would pass to him, not to his sisters-. He shook his head from side to side, wiggling a firm finger in the air-. Why should the Iron Throne be any different?-,

Aemond blinks slowly, keeping silence. Daera was promised queenship, he recalls, for she's "wife" to Rhaenyra's heir, Jace. None of the three will ever sit the throne now, he thinks. Aemond wants to dance of joy when thinking so about his half-sister and her bastard son, but he has to confess to himself that Daera would have been a great Queen, perhaps the greatest of their line. But we cannot dream of that, for is no longer her destiny nor reality, and he knows it, as neither is his to be King.

And with a royal marriage in the offing...Rhaenyra's cause was lost, she would see that when she learned that she had lost Storm's End. Lord Borros will tell her so himself, he promised the prince, all drunk and happy.

-"Bow down to your brother, aye" I'll tell her!-. Borros swears, raising his cup. Aemond chuckles a little, raising his as well, and liking that image on his mind-. "It's for the best". You see, my prince, my girls would fight with each other sometimes, the way girls do, but I see to it that they always make peace afterward...-, he says.

Aemond sipped his wine with doubt in that moment, thoughtfully. Oh, he's afraid that his siblings and Rhaenyra are nothing like Lord Borros' daughters. He hopes Rhaenyra accepts those terms, because if she doesn't...well, better to not even think of it.

Lord Borros and Prince Aemond made arrangement for the next morning, to hag about dates and dowries, and for him to finally meet the four girls, and to choose which one he'll have to take as wife, and to welcome on his bed.

Borros gave him a room, one of the finest of the castle, and now here he is, supposed to be asleep. But he's far away from dreaming. He fears he'd dream of Daera, or the child they never had, or of war. He fears he'd dream of all of them.

With slow steps, Aemond approaches to the window of the chamber. Silently, he stares at the violent rain outside. As loud as it is, he can still hear Vhagar's snores from outside the walls of the castle, nesting and sleeping under the cold cruel drops.

While looking at the storm, he can't but remember again that warm morning in Pentos, again. He sees Daera in his mind, again. He sees them both naked, hugging and kissing each other. He almost heard her sweet laugh.

Aemond gulps with pain, pressing his lips, and looking down to the floor, thinking of her.

-Daera...-, he whispers her name-...How are you, my love?-

■ ■ ■

Daera remains blinkless. Her face is moveless and her expression is cold. Her fiery eyes stare down and only down. Her body is tense, and her fist are tighten at the sides of it.

At her left and right, Jace and Baela stand the same way, as silent and attentive as hers. Steps behind them, each of their dragons stand quiet as well. Kalistrox, Vermax and Moondancer remain tense and ready to act. They're all looking at one same thing.

From the height of one of the tallest mountains of Dragonstone, they are looking at that lonely galleon that flies a banner of a three-headed green dragon. She approaches to the port quickly, helped by the strong cold breezes of the island.

In the bridge that unites the castle with the port, Prince Daemon Targaryen, the White Cloak Ser Erryk Cargyll and a dozen guards wait for the Greens' arrival. With his hands resting on the handle of his sheathed sword, Daemon paces back and forth quickly, impatient. He looks like a caged cat. A caged dragon. Now that's more dangerous.

-Son of a bitch...-, Daera pressed her fists stronger while looking at that green dragon. It is hideous. It is ugly. It is Aegon's-. Piece of scum!-, she murmurs with rage. She sees that no cannon blast comes from the ship, nor any other sort of weapon.

Baela lifted her chin up, always keeping sight of the entrance bridge of the castle, where her father awaits with the guards. Jacaerys constantly looks at the skies, looking for any foreigner dragon, but finding none, thank the gods.

The three older siblings of the family keep their eyes open at all times, sighting the skies, the grounds, and the seas.

Meanwhile, the other children had been sent to their rooms. They are all gathered in Joffrey's, at the moment. Joff, Rhaena, Luke, the twins and two midwives are inside. Four guards outside, at all times.

-Gods-, Lucerys sighs, as nervous as a goat, walking from one side of the room to another. Rhaena does exactly the same, but calmer, keeping a serene serious expression.

The twins eat, while Joffrey keeps seated on the bed, with his head down. The boy is really sad, still grieving the babe his mother lost this morning. His siblings are still with that pain too, but are also more attending to the happenings of the moment.

-Gods-, Luke sighs. Rhaena raises her head, paying attention to him-. Heavens, I should have gone with them!-. He tsks, stressed.

-Luke! Rhaenyra ordered you to remain with us!-. She remembers, raising her brows.

-But- but why?! I- I'm a dragonrider too, Rhaena!-. He points out, never halting his nervous walking. Joffrey raises his head, looking at him with teary eyes.

-Keep calm-, his betrothed sighed-. Everything will be fine!-. She promises heartfully.

-Wait, I- I am a dragonrider too-. Joffrey spoke from a second to another, hopeful.

Both his siblings turned to look at him, and then sighed, sharing a tired and worried look.

Back in that high mountain, the three siblings watch attentively the people that are now heading towards prince Daemon and the guards. Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Orwyle, the White Cloak Ser Arryk Cargyll, and a dozen and a half guard.

For a moment, for a brief moment, Daera feared who would come off of that ship. She feared to see Aemond coming down of it, walking to face her father with his grandsire. Oh, Daemon would have immediately taken his head, that's for sure. But her husband stayed back at King's Landing, or that's what she thinks.

They're so far in the mountain that they cannot hear their voices, perhaps only some echoes. Jacaerys narrows his eyes, glancing at the sky, and then at them again.

-Well, they're not fighting-. Baela mumbles, attentive.

-Not yet, at least-. Jace responds, cocking his head.

-That disappoints me-. Daera grunts, looking at there at all times. Her husband snorted.

The three of them, and the three dragons as well, turned their heads to the other side of the island. From there, Syrax made act of presence in the most powerful way, shutting the Greens' mouth at once. Otto and his people stared at the sky with hidden fright, watching the dragon getting closer and closer.

-Fucking burn them already, Nyra-, the elder sister wishes.

-Daera-, the elder brother scolded.

-What?-, the younger sister defends her, making him to sigh.

Rhaenyra walked through them as if they were no threat, not being afraid of them. Afterwards, she faced them for the first time, showing them her crown, telling them her name.

-I'm Queen Rhaenyra now-. The children kind of hear that echo. Baela smirked, nodding in silence.

They started to talk, apparently. Daera eyes everything and, for a second, she fixed her gaze on Ser Erryk, who stands alongside her father. The princess notices a man just like him standing by Otto's side. The Cargyll Twins are together but apart at the same time. Daera gulped, finding it incredibly sad. But, well, she finds herself in a pretty similar situation as well, save that her husband isn't here.

They all flinch when seeing Nyra suddenly walking towards Otto, getting dangerously close.

-Mother-, Jace instantly gasps, and Vermax squealed.

Rhaenyra plucked Otto's pin of Hand of The King off his suit, just to threw it right in the ocean, yelling something to his bare face.

-Fucking traitor!-

Daera nods, anxious but excited, desiring to hear that command from the Queen to take all of the traitors’ head. "Come on...what is she waiting for?"

The Grand Maester of the Greens approach towards The Hand and The Queen, something the siblings carefully watched at. Some kind of paper was handed to their mother, which confuse them greatly.

-Can't Otto Hightower read their own terms?-. Baela scoffs, furrowing her brows.

-Then what they were talking about for so long, before?-. Jace questions with anxiety.

-This is being too much talk, in fact, they should be killed at once!-. Daera growls with her fists tight, pressing them and watching at Otto with deep hate.

-Sisters, we should not be the first one to draw blood. It would be the worst for us-. Jacaerys pointed, raising his brows with insistence. Daera just grumbles, shaking her head.

-And what assures that they haven't already?-, Baela answers back, with the same distrust of her sister, who just stayed silent, staring down at them.

Jacaerys sighs through his nose, closing his lips, and not saying anything anymore.

And from a moment to another, Daemon took out Dark Sister from its sheath, and was immediately copied by both his men and Otto's. The children in the mountain immediately flinched, feeling their heart skipping a beat.

-Fuck!-. Daera takes a quick step back.

-Hells!-. Baela flinches, while Jace gasped and automatically reached for his sword.

-Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure myself!-. Daemon's raged echo was as clear as loud.

Syrax rose her chest, opening her mouth to roar with discontent and warning, opening her wings. While everybody looked at the yellow dragon, Daera walked backwards with her throat afflicted, and then turned around, running.

-Dae- Daera!-. Jace glanced at her for a second, to then instantly look back at his mother while Baela breathes with worriness.

In five seconds, Daera climbed to Kalistrox's back, taking off the ground. They left from behind, directly towards the clouds, so no one but them saw them. It was all too fast, and they got lost into the clouds right when Rhaenyra put an end to the threat of quarrel.

-No!-. The Queen ordered to her husband and men.

Jace and Baela keep in their stations, as tense as a rock, attentive to any suspicious move from the enemy, but they were all frozen. Seconds then, they see Daemon placing his sword down, and looking at his feet with heaviness and rage.

-Good...-, Jace whispers, fearing bloodshed.

Rhaenyra turned around, and started to leave, instantly followed by Daemon, whose eyes can't be any angrier nor more upset. He was thirsty for blood, and so were his daughters, Jace noted.

After all danger was gone, Syrax roared and took off from the bridge, flying above of them while heading to her nest. Baela followed the yellow beast for a few seconds with her purple eyes, and then she met Jace's brown.

-Let's go see mother-. The boy orders, raising his brows.

-Yes-, she quickly agrees, taking a last glance to the skies, which were clear.

Minutes later, the bridge and the outsides of Dragonstone were empty, once again, no one but guards in there.

The Greens have sailed again, heading back to King's Landing. The crew is silent as everyone do their assigned work. But, in a determined moment, they all stopped doing so when a strange sound started to be heard.

Otto furrows his brows, parting his lips and quickly turning around. He knows that sound by heart. Dragon's wings.

From a moment to another, the clouds got cut by sharp golden wings, and the air whistled as The Golden Ray flew in it, reflecting the sun in his whole immense body. On his back, the princess Daera mounts him, looking down at them with eyes sharper than Valyrian steel.

The Hand of The King gasped in that moment, petrified, while his unit yelled and pointed at the sky with terror.

-DRAAGON!-, Ser Arryk Cargyll warned, loudly and strongly.

Daera presses her lips with poison, going as fast as the wind, directly to their pathetic ship, staring at their ugly green banner. She breathes in and out multiple times, grunting. She wishes to yell, to burn them, to kill them.

Sir Otto gulps, walking backwards while The Golden Ray flies directly to them, never ceasing his speed. He's almost starting to pray. He meets her fierce eyes from the distance. They're burning.

But Rhaenyra has given an order. And Daera will listen to her Queen.

She let out a raged grunt, pulling Kalistrox's horns and making him to change directions. The Golden Ray roared, passing right by the ship as he did. The whole craft wiggled abruptly in the water, from side to side, making most of the men to fall on their knees within a second.

Otto grabbed himself to firm wood, breathing fastly. He looked up to the golden dragon, and he saw how his rider threw something from her place, throwing it so violently and quickly from the skies. Then, that thing ends up just meters away from the ship.

Kalistrox roars as he flaps his wings away from there, disappearing in the skies again within two seconds, taking his angry rider with him.

Breathing fastly, Lord Hightower runs with trembling legs towards the other side of the ship as this one keeps rocking, still agitated by the pass dragon's nearness.

He looked into the sea, wondering what was what she threw. And, stuck on a wet rock the size of a horse saddle, was what she had catapulted from the clouds. Otto narrows his eyes, raising a hand to call men of his while still looking at it.

A leather belt.

■ ■ ■

After the first tense meeting between the Blacks and the Greens, on Dragonstone’s bridge, Queen Rhaenyra has gone to attend to her baby children, Viserys and Aegon, exclusively by herself. She gave orders even to the midwives, to not interrupt her nor come into the room. Such orders were also directed to her husband, prince Daemon.

Everybody was expecting for something to happen. So, right now, the castle is on hold.

Princess Daera is standing on her bedroom’s balcony, all by herself. A fresh strong breeze blows both her mane and dress, caressing the wounds in her naked arms and shoulders. Daera sighs, perceiving every inch of her body. She hasn’t stopped feeling a lack of pressure in her right thigh since she took that belt off it. It’s like an…emptiness.

The belt is no longer with her; she threw it in the ocean, near the Greens, right where it belongs. She didn’t want it to mean something, she wasn’t even sending a message, no. She just…wanted it off, away, and to never see it again. All the memories attached to that belt, she didn’t need those memories wrapped in her skin, not now that they hurt her.

Daera wonders, “was it the belt that was aching me so, or the knowing of who it belongs to? …My husband”. “Was it the belt I wanted to get rid of, or…was it him?”. When thinking so, she pressed her lips with great strength, not bearing such and blunt and hurtful question.

“I want to get rid of Aemond”. The princess cannot make herself believe it, much less say it. She guls strongly, feeling tears coming up to her violet eyes. Daera sobs, curving her brows, and placing her hands on her belly.

If he only knew how much pain he’s causing, how much damage. He made her to drink Moon Tea, and their dream child became a never-to be-child. The same happened with her stillborn baby sister. Aemond and his family placed Aegon on the throne, and that killed Visenya. He has taken her child, her sister, her family’s crown.

Daera sniffs again, shaking her head from side to side, crying in the silence of the balcony, in the breeze noise.

She is so sad. “I am so sad”. This is darkness, pure darkness the one she’s in. And yet, she isn’t allowing herself to think of the word hate. She doesn’t hate him, even if she should. Daera knows that she holds no hate for him because when she thinks of him, she cries because the despair of wanting for him to see the truth, to regret his doings, to ask for forgiveness, to change sides. To be by her side, forever.

Daera thinks is impossible for her to hate Aemond. And, so, she hates herself for that.

She knows of the hard life her husband has have to life, she knows few people has been kind to him, but she has always spoken her mindset to him about this. “Be better than them, not worst”. Aemond, of course, never seemed to completely agree to that. Now we’re explicitly seeing that in fact he didn’t. “But…what if he does?”, she hopes in the deepness of her heart. “What if he gives Aegon up, in time, before all this escalate to worst scenarios?” Though, what could be worse than this? Viserys, Visenya and Alyssa; they’re all dead.

Daera looks up at the night sky, seeing the starts shining brighter than ever thanks to the tears on her eyes. The princess sobs with weakness, tired, looking at Meleys and Moondancer flying above the castle. Her lips tremble as she thinks of everything at once.

Whilst a side of her mind wonders about all this questions, the other side keeps imagining about how it was, how it looked, Aegon’s coronation. The mere image of him seated in The Iron Throne brough nausea to her stomach, which she held in the middle of a sob, closing her eyes.

How was it? Was Aemond happy, fulfilled? Did Helaena said something against it? Were the twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, in the coronation as well? How did the subjects react? Are they happy? Were they mad? Did someone scream Rhaenyra’s name out loud? Did someone cry Viserys’ death? Did Alicent? Did any of his children? Did Aegon smiled when having the crown placed on his head? Did Aemond root for him?

When picturing her cousin smiling with the Conqueror’s crown on his head, Daera nearly gagged, holding her belly again, and shaking her head from side to side, feeling sick. If she isn’t hating Aemond now, then she probably never will, because how could she picture him clapping midst Aegon’s coronation, and not having extreme desire of killing him right in that moment?

Daera sobs with pain, feeling her lips trembling.

And then, the door is knocked. She instantly flinches, opening her eyes and quickly wiping away her tears, she gulps and clears her throat, accommodating her dress.

-Coming!-, she answered firmly, not wanting anyone to know that she has been crying-. I’m going!-, she smirks tinyly, walking towards the door.

She thanked the heavens that someone had knocked the door, because she wasn’t over at all. After wondering about all the things that already happened, she planed on to suffer while wondering what was to happen in the future. Thank the gods, she didn’t have time for that.

Daera clears her throat, opening the door.

-Yes?-, she smiles.

Such smile didn’t last long, for she faded it away at the moment of seeing Ser Erryk, alone, standing outside of her quarters. He immediately bowed his head down. She afflicts her throat, bemused.

-Princess-, he greets with extreme respect, still bowed.

-Up, soldier. What the fuck do you want?-. Our Daera, as sweet as ever, asks.

As we know, the princess has been predisposed to the White Cloak ever since she learned that the prince he used to protect, Aegon, raped Helaena's maid, Dyana. Ser Erryk knew, and told no one.

-My princess-, he murmurs, giving a salute with his head, rising again. She looks at him with cold eyes, crossing her hands over her chest.

-Speak, if you are to speak-. The woman commanded, raising her brows, irritated. She watches her sky-blue eyes, which wandered around her face for a quick second before he deeply breathed in, clenching his shoulders on his big silver armor.

-The Queen has called her Council to gather at once, in The Chamber of The Painted Table-. Ser Erryk informs, and she quickly cocked her head.

-Good-. Within a second, Daera walks out of her room, and he quickly drew himself away so they wouldn’t touch each other. The princess slammed the door closed, walking with firmness and quickness-. Has she said something yet?-, she questions, only looking front.

-Not more than informing she’s about to detail her encounter with Lord Otto Hightower, princess-. Ser Erryk answers with seriousness as they quickly walk through the multiple hallways of the castle.

-Hmm-, she nods. Silently, walking behind her, Erryk eyes her arms for a second, seeing the scars in them. He gulps, almost ashamed, recalling that night. Daera blinks, thoughtful for a second-…Your brother was with Lord Hightower, yes?-. Daera asks, serious.

-Yes, princess-. The Ser answers immediately, nearly with no emotion on his voice. Daera gulped briefly, knowing that there has to be a seriously sad feeling on both the twins’ hearts. Such a shame, really.

They keep walking. And, while doing so, the princess starts to almost physically feel some eyes watching the wounds of her arms. And the only eyes in the hallway, besides hers, are his. So, from a moment to another, she turned around, facing him.

Ser Erryk had to apply a mystical force to stop his body so that he didn’t clash with the princess, who raised her face to look at him with a daring expression. He goes mute, not expecting such deep eyes nailed on him.

-I know my wounds are there, Ser, I do not need your eyes to remind it to me-. She mocks him with taunt, clenching her jaw. Erryk parts his lips, feeling the sea breeze on his forehead.

-My sincerest apologies, princess-. He said, nobly, as a soldier should speak. She hums, lowly, staring at him-. I am sorry-. The knight repeated, this time slower.

Daera narrows her violet eyes, cocking her head to a side.

-Does it shame you, is that it, Ser? To know that my wounds were painted by your prince?-. Daera taunts, mumbling with mocking. She noticed his eyebrows coming down, furrowing above his blue eyes-. Oh, please, don’t say that now he’s your King-, she whispers.

Ser Erryk stood still, looking back at her at all times. The Targaryen princess’ mockery would normally make every man to look down, if not run away, especially to a knight of the realm. But he’s standing his ground. Good wood, she confesses to herself.

-I have a Queen, princess-. Ser Erryk corrected, so politely and well-spoken, not falling into her judgmental traps. Daera closes her lips, listening to him. He breathes through his nose, looking at those purple eyes. He could tell she has been crying-. And I guard someone else now-. The knight declared, serious.

Daera narrows her eyes, curious. She leaned her head away, scoffing for a quick moment, confused. The princess hums, taking two steps back. He took two steps front.

She gasps.

-No-, Daera shakes her head, walking three steps more back. Ser Erryk took three steps forward immediately. Her soul left her body-. FUCKING HELLS, NO!-

■ ■ ■

Everyone at The Chamber of The Painted Table turned their heads when the doors are suddenly opened with violence. The lords furrowed their brows and the royal family raised theirs. Princess Daera arrives with smoky ears and angry eyes. Behind her, Ser Erryk silently stands, looking at her with a blank face.

-I will not have this!-. The princess arrives with complains, walking into the room with a raised finger.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily, pressing her lips, and looking at the girl with her brows raised.

-Daera-, she warns. From a corner of the room, Rhaenys watches the scene with amusement, completely silent.

-I do not need myself a sworn protector! I never have!-. Daera declares, walking towards her with a troubled expression, tired. Nyra immediately shook her head.

-Well, now you do-. Rhaenyra speaks with simplicity, placing a hand in the Painted Table, looking attentive to it. Daera snorts, still agitated.

-Whose idea was that?!-, she questions.

-Mine-, her step-mother quickly answered, looking at her again. Daera shushes, parting her lips with doubt, embarrassed by having a knight sworn to her, this of all knights-. You need protection, a sworn protector, Daera, and your siblings as well, and…! yours is Ser Erryk-. Rhaenyra dictated with a firm voice, wiggling her head while speaking, and glancing again to the maps.

-But…-, Daera looks around and, in that moment, she realized that all of her siblings had a knight by their side. Ser Lorent is with Baela, Ser Denyss with Luke, Ser Abin with Rhaena and Ser Torres with Jace. She doesn’t know it, but Joffrey has two protectors to his name. And, by her side then, is Ser Erryk.

Daemon, as present as he may be in the room, seems to not be paying the smallest attention to his daughter, or to anyone really. The Rogue Prince keeps reading the table, mumbling things to himself, constantly humming lowly, plotting schemes and wars on his mind.

-Gods, Nyra-. Daera sighed, about to complain again.

-That’ll be it, Daera-. Rhaenyra quickly interrupted her, looking at her by the side of her eye.

Daera held her breath, looking at her too. It was not only her stepmother who ordered her to make silence, but her Queen too. So, grinding her teeth, Daera kept silence.

-Hm…-, she walks away, leaving Nyra’s side. She just sighed through her nose, crossing her hands over her flat belly. Just this morning it was still swollen with child.

-The Greens came with terms from King’s Landing, delivered by Otto Hightower, this evening-. As her Black Council was already complete, Rhaenyra didn’t wait a second to start talking. Everybody looked at her, including Daemon, who pressed his thin dry lips. Daera walks towards her siblings, being followed by her Sworn Protector. While she approaches, Luke stares at her with parted lips, timid-. They…employed great persuasion, and reasoning, when making such terms-. She confesses, raising her brows.

-They didn’t, they were just talking shit-. The Rogue Prince scoffs with a sharp burlesque voice, nearly rolling his eyes.

Lucerys looks at Daera, who calmly placed herself between Rhaena and Jace, listening to their Queen. Luke gulps, briefly licking his lips while staring at his sister. As surprising as it may sound, he and Daera haven’t talked since their strong discussion of this morning, during breakfast. They’ve barely spoken a word to each other, for the day was exhaustingly “busy”. They’ve never been this silent between them.

-What are the terms?-. Baela asks, interested, with her hands crossed over her belly. Daera hums, wanting to know as well as Jace, who lifted his chin up.

The Queen remained with her lips parted, thinking. Seconds then, she breathed in, opened her mouth, and let her council to know the terms brought by The Greens.

Rhaenyra’s possession of Dragonstone would be confirmed, which will pass to her trueborn son, Jacaerys, upon her death.

Jace stayed blinkless, clenching his jaw. His mother raised her brows towards him while speaking. He blinks, just one time, briefly shaking his head. His wife and him shared an uncomfortable expression, glancing at each other.

Lucerys would be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon.

Luke gulped strongly, parting her lips. He turned around his head, finding Rhaenys’ eyes already placed on him. She immediately looked down, tense. The boy, nervous, looks at his betrothed, who looked back at him with hopeful eyes.

Viserys and Aegon, the twins, would be given places in Aegon II’s court. Aegon The Younger as The Elder’s squire, and Viserys as his cupbearer.

All the siblings flinched in that moment. Baela’s face shrinked with disgust, Jacaerys placed his fists on the table, Rhaena stuttered, Luke shook his head within a gasp, and Daera let out a great only laugh. Their father, Daemon, grunted under his breath, impatient.

Any knight or lord who conspired against Aegon’s ascent would be pardoned.

Ser Erryk pressed his lips, fearless, lifting his chin up. Daera looked at him by the side of her eyes, for a second, seeing his lack of intimidation, or desire of pardon. The princess, then, looks back at The Queen.

-Interesting terms, your grace…-. Maester Gerardys mumbled, doubtful.

-Do not lie, Maester, they’re dog shite-. Daera spat with venom, disgusted. Rhaenyra sighed and placed two fingers on the table, shaking her head.

-Aye-, Daemon fastly agree.

-What do you mean? They’re very generous, I think!-. Rhaena immediately points. The lords around them narrow their eyes, wanting to voice their opinions.

-They’re pity terms, and no more-. Jacaerys dictated with a firm tone. His wife instantly nodded, supporting his saying.

-They are terms, true terms-. Queen Rhaenyra points with certainty, cocking her head to a side.

-Wait- you…you aren’t planning on accepting them, are you, your Grace?-. Princess Daera asked, narrowing her eyes. Daemon hummed, shaking his head.

Rhaenyra chose not to look at anyone. With a finger placed over King’s Landing on the map, the Queen stares at said place with thoughtfulness, hearing all of the different opinions.

-…I understand the desire of avoiding bloodshed-. Prince Jacaerys speaks with reason, keeping his jaw clenched-, but having my little brothers as The Usurper’s servants will feel like no victory to us-, he declares, serious.

His mother blinks, looking at King’s Landing.

-Bloodshed is not even of essence-. Princess Daera denied, taking a step forward. Ser Erryk and her husband look at her, listening. Daemon sighs through his nose, looking down-. We only need one head to claim victory, Your Grace-. She raised her brows.

-Rebellion from their supporters would still be a threat, princess-. One of the lords spoke softly towards her. Daera presses her lips, looking at him. The room is now very quiet-. War is, indeed, of essence-. He pointed out.

Daera snorts lowly, looking away. She sees her shoes, believing that everything could be over if they just let her to take Aegon’s head with her sword.

-It's no easy thing for a man to be a dragon slayer-. Prince Daemon's unusual soft tone came to fill the room, to fill his wife's ears-. But dragons can kill dragons-, he says. Daera gives a loosen blink, looking down-...and have-, he pointed.

Daera's terror came to her mind; the possible image of Vhagar and Kalistrox fighting in the skies scaries her. And worst, Aemond and herself on their dragon's backs while doing so.

-The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than Aegon-. Daemon pointed with no doubt, softly.

-Viserys spoke often of the Valyrian histories, I know them well-. Queen Rhaenyra answered while reading the map, serious-. When dragons flew to war...-, Rhaena nearly shivers by only imagining that-...everything burned-, she recalls the history books.

Lucerys gulps, as well as some of the lords did too. He shares a glance with Rhaena, who gulped harder. Jacaerys bites his own tongue, turning to look at his wife, who stares at the floor with melancholic eyes.

-I do not wish to rule over a kingdom of ash and bone-, the Queen denies. Daera tsks, sighing.

-Are you considering the Hightower's terms, Your Grace?-. Lord Bartimos questions with a serious tone. Luke and Jace both look at him, side by side.

-As Queen, what is my true duty to the realm, Lord Bartimos?-. Rhaenyra questioned, narrowing her eyes-. Ensuring peace and unity?-. Daemon moves his fingers with impatience, glancing at his children and then at her again-. Or that I sit the Iron Throne, no matter the cost?-, she wonders, clearly not waiting for an aswer.

-That's your father talking-. The Rogue Prince mumbled, tediously, walking away from the table, heading to the warm fire of the room.

-My father's dead-. Nyra quickly answered. Baela raised her brows. Ser Erryk looked at prince Daemon with cautiousness-. And he chose me as his successor!-, she recalls.

-This is getting personal-, Daera mumbles under her breath.

-Hasn't it always been?-, Jace mumbled as well. They both sigh.

-To defend the realm!-, Rhaenyra stresses-. Not cast it headlong into war-

-Well, the enemy have declared war!-. Daemon's voice suddlenly gets louder, making everyone to get surprised. Jace and Luke instantly turned around, facing him. Rhaena parted her lips-. What are YOU gonna do about it?!-. And he screamed, this time for real, raged towards his wife.

Everyone froze. Daera turned her head to look at her father with round eyes, not believing he spoke to her that way. Jacaerys tighted his fists at the sides of his body, clenching his jaw, not liking that tone towards their mother, their Queen.

Nevertheless, Rhaenyra remains unfased, only staring at him, harshly.

-Clear the room-. She ordered, and not another word was needed.

Within ten seconds, everyone but The Queen and her Prince Consort got out of the chamber while they both were sharing silent and harsh glares.

It is late, it is night. Everyone is either tired or angry, most probably both.

However, someone that didn't look upset at all was princess Rhaenys, and that is something that Rhaena noticed while they were coming out of the room. Her grandma looked excited, almost smiling, and she headed towards a hall that does not lead to her actual apartments.

"Where is she going?", Rhaena wonders, "Grandma rarely rides Meleys at night, much less in Dragonstone". The young girl narrowed her eyes with curiosity and, without an explanation, she took her betrothed with her.

Meanwhile, when Daera came out of the chamber, she was nearly grunting, touching her temple with both her hands while walking. She hears the doors closing behind her, and for some reason it sounded so loudly that it hurted her ears. The princess sighed, closing her eyes with tiredness, starting to walk faster.

Her steps are fast and losing. She’s like running and walking at the same time, sometimes stumbling. Everything aches, suddenly. She starts to get dizzy.

-Fuck-, Daera mumbles, heading her hands to her belly, and gripping it between her ten fingers. She thinks of everything.

Daemon and Rhaenyra may be fighting right now, which she hates. The Hightowers came with awful terms. Rhaenyra seems to be pondering about accepting them. The kingdom is at threat of war. She has lost her child. She has lost her sister. She has lost her uncle. Her husband. Her safeness.

Daera grunts, lowly, walking faster and faster, feeling like the walls around her were about to squash her mercilessly. The princess realizes that steps as fast as hers are following her, along the constant clinking of an armour.

-Princess!-, Ser Erryk voice follows her with a worried face. Full moon eyes, and parts lips, holding his sheathed sword. She looks like she has been poisoned!

Daera kicks the doors of her rooms, and runs desperately to her balcony. Her sworn protector runs behind her. He sees how she covered her mouth with both hands, and he noticed her cheeks suddenly getting inflated.

Three seconds then, Daera opened her mouth along a hurted roar, and vomited desperately towards the ocean, letting her head to hang out of the balcony.

-Seven hells-, Ser Erryk mumbles as he approaches quickly.

-You- FUCK! Help me with…!-, Daera gags and furrows her brows, disgusted by the absolutely sour vomit that keeps coming from the deepness of her empty stomach-. My- my hair!-, she yells between gags and sobs, desperate.

Ser Erryk breathes in and quickly holds the curly white mane of the princess, getting it out of her face and forehead. That allowed her to puke harder, choking with her own fluids as she felt the sickness leaving her body. But oh, what a way.

Daera feels tears coming up to her eyes while she vomits. In the middle of all, she suffers with pain, tiredness and despair. She couldn't avoid it, she had to, for she just has so many bad feelings on her. Everything is going backwards, from bad to worst. How is this going to end? How are they going to come out of this?

The doors of the rooms are knocked, but just out of policy, for they were left half opened when the princess and the knight came in running.

-Daera-, the soft voice of Jacaerys speaks as he, with caution, enters the room, looking around. And when he saw towards the balcony, his blood stopped flowing. Dae- Sister!-, he gasped, immediately running towards there.

Prince Jacaerys ran to the balcony.

-What happened?!-, He asks the knight, taking the princess' mane on his hands, and out of his. Ser Erryk breathes a little fast, looking sideways at her for a second.

-I- I'm fine!-, Daera's tired voice said, as she was done puking, now recovering her breath.

-The princess appeared to get sick, my prince-. Erryk answers to Jace, who listens while he looks at her with worried eyes, holding her hair in one hand, and patting her back with another.

-I said I'm fine!-. Daera stressed, and yet, she keeps her head hanging out of the balcony, fearing she may puke again.

-Have you eaten something today? -. Her “husband” questioned with a hard tone, furrowing his brows. She remained silent. Or after noon, at least?-, he insisted. Daera closed her eyes, and hummed tiredly, resting her forehead on the stone of the railing. That was answer enough. Heavens, Daera-. He tsks.

-I'm afraid I...didn't even finish breakfast-, she remembers within a low mumble, recalling that she interrupted her morning meal when standing up to discuss with Lucerys. After that, well, Rhaenys arrived, Visenya died, they had a funeral, Rhaenyra was crowned Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, and The Greens came to ask for their surrender.

Ser Erryk briefly parted his lips, looking at her with silent but thoughtful eyes. Jace curved his brows, sighing deeply, and shaking his head slowly.

-Ser Erryk, fetch something to eat and drink for my wife at once, please. The prince ordered without looking at him, and only at her, worried. She hums, still eye-closed and resting her head on the railing.

The knight didn't waste a second. He agreed and quickly abandoned the apartments, closing the doors of it. Ser Erryk almost ran to the kitchen of the castle, to ask for a nice supper for the princess.

-Daera…-, Jace called, softly and weakly.

-Oh…-, she sighed with her eyes closed, hating the bad taste her mouth now was-. I'm alright-. Daera mumbled.

All she hears, for three seconds, is silence. She felt something falling on one of her arms, from one moment to another. A drop. Wait, tear. Daera opened her eyes, and didn't even care whether she'd get dizzy again, and she raised herself with fastness and quickness.

She found Jacaerys' teary red eyes. The brown-haired prince looks at her with blushed cheeks and trembling lips. His breath is fast, and his expression obvious.

He's tired and sad too. He too has lost a lot today. More than one can count.

-Jace-, her voice trembled, and her arms held him.

Prince Jacaerys broke out crying, not holding himself anymore. He melted into his sister's chest as she hugged him tightly to it, starting to sob as well. Daera hates to cry in front of her siblings, we know she does, but this… this is too much. This is far too much.

Jace sobs and closes his eyes strongly, clenching his teeth in the middle of his desperate crying. Daera cries quietly but harder, with a great emptiness on her heart.

She holds her hair, and he holds her waist, both of them hugging each other until ending kneeled on the floor, crying and sobbing.

Burning in grieve.

■ ■ ■

As well as it did in Dragonstone, night has arrived in King’s Landing.

Flea Bottom, at the moment, is divided in two. A part of it goes around their lives as if nothing has happened at all, as if thousand weren’t killed this morning, in The Dragonpit. Another part, then, grieves those loses, and another tinier part, the most conscious one, fears the consequences of that precise happening of this morning; the crowning of Aegon Targaryen as King of the Seven Kingdoms, a place that definitely wasn’t his to take, as King Viserys the Peaceful made clear during twenty long years.

For instance, the smith brothers we recently came to know, Ajy, Jay, Yja and Jya, are locked in their house, which is tiny and of dim light. They haven’t come out since the attack on The Dragonpit and, since then, they haven’t stopped thinking about what is to happen, and to come.

Yja, the mute one, sits in a corner of their small dining room. For such tall brothers, their chairs are pretty tiny, to be honest.

-All right, what if...it was a joke?-. Jay suddenly proposes, smiling and opening his strong arms.

Ajy, the oldest, and Jya turned to look at him with troubled faces, annoyed.

-Shut up, Jay-. Ajy scoffs, rolling his eyes.

-He was crown King and- and, as far as I know, nor princess Rhaenyra nor any of her family members are here or were here during the coronation-. Jya talks with nerves, raising his brows-. He was crowned just when they left-, he mumbles, bemused. Yja nods and sighs, agreeing.

-And they probably already know about it-. Ajy mumbles, with his chin placed on his knuckles. His brothers look at him, all of them worried, and nervous. He blinks, thoughtful-…And they won’t stay quiet. You know that, right?-, he asks.

-Hm-, Jay nods, pressing his lips while looking at the floor-. They…-

-They’ll declare war-. Jya pointed out, raising his brows. The four brothers shivered in that moment, staring between each other, terrified of the idea of King’s Landing under attack.

-Shit-, Jay sighs, closing his eyes-. Shit, shit! Right when I was going to buy that wee bonny rug I was saving for!-. He grunts.

Ajy slaps his hands in the table, standing up from a second to another. They all make silence, raising their gazes to look at their older brother. He licks his lips, and starts to nod.

-We cannot wait-, he says.

-…For the rug?-, Jay mumbles.

-For the war!-. Ajy states, and he quickly nods, now understanding-. The town will be save no more-. Yja and Jya stare at him with nerves, the both of them waiting for a direction. Ajy sighs through his nose, blinking a few times-. We’ll leave King’s Landing-. He decided, serious, stepping away.

The brothers were left speechless, blinkless.

-We leave in a few days, after setting everything-. Ajy’s voice disappeared with him as he walked away from the dining room, heading to their chamber.

Yja blinks slowly, letting out a long sigh as he takes the information in. Jya starts nodding with decision, pressing his lips. Jay makes a pout with his.

-Alright, well… At least we’ll leave knowing how hot princess Daera looks using a sword-. Jay mumbles with pride.

-Seven hells, shut up!!-. Jya yelled annoyed. While the smith brothers talk about their future leaving, Flea Bottom’s night life thrives, as always. As we said before, only a few are really aware of what has happened, and more important, what will.

But, while the town is all noise and drink, The Red Keep is under a profound quietness. It is as if every person in The Keep has decided to turn into a Silent Sister, devoted to clean the death and stand close to The Stranger.

There is a guard in every corner of the castle. The servants walk with discomfort, feeling like they’re being watched at all moments. Perhaps they are.

Dowager Queen Alicent, in her big and lonely rooms, sits right by one of the huge windows. Already dressed in her night gown, the red head stares to the outsides at all times. Sometimes she looks to the skies, sometimes to the sea, for she’s waiting for people that may arrive through both ways.

Through the ocean, she expects to see a lone galleon with a green three-headed dragon arriving to the shores, for in it her father will arrive, returning from Dragonstone after telling Rhaenyra the terms of peace Alicent wrote herself. They were all credited to Aegon, of course, for nobody can’t know the King speaks only his mother’s words. With the arrival of the ship, she expects to finally know an answer to this dithering and anxiety.

Through the skies, she’s expecting to see one of two dragons she’s waiting for. Vhagar, and Tessarion. Aemond is to return from the Storm Lands, after winning Lord Borros’ daughter’s hand in marriage, and his support to their side. Daeron, her younger boy, is to return from Oldtown, for he has already received word about the situation in King’s Landing.

Alicent sighs impatiently, hugging herself as she lifted her hazel eyes to stare at the blue clear sky. Nothing. The Queen’s mind waits for her father, while Alicent’s heart waits for her children.

In the same level of Alicent’s quarters, Helaena walks around hers. She has locked her doors, and put the twins to sleep. They dream calmly as their mother wanders the room with slow and delicate steps.

Helaena, somewhat dizzy and extremely tired, looks around while walking. She constantly caresses her belly without even notice it, distracted by her thoughts and sights. One second, she gazed at that wall that leads to the secret passageways of the castle.

She remembers all the times she saw Aemond and Daera going in and coming out from that secret door, always doing it happily. They would hold hands, smile at each other, or discuss sometimes, but most of the times they were always together when crossing that door. Is theirs, she thinks. But now that they’re both gone, away from it, it sends chills down her spine.

The princess looks at it from up to down, and then furrows her lips down, almost with disgust, glaring at it for three more seconds, and then looking and walking away from it.

Jaehaerys cooed softly; she looked at him.

■ ■ ■

Night has completely fallen now, in Dragonstone, our beloved and ancient island. The sky is starry, whilst the land is foggy, for the tall and many mountains of the place bring fresh midst and cold haze with them during nighttime.

Things are still quiet. Better said tensed, but let us not describe the ambience with such a glum word. So, yes, things are quiet in the island.

In the chambers of the Dragon’s Goodness, princess Daera Targaryen, she and her husband, prince Jacaerys Velaryon, lie on the lady’s bed together, in these late hours. Besides them, in a nightstand, there is a glass and a plate, both of them empty and a little dirty, for drink and food had been in them before. ´

Ser Erryk, the princess’ recently named Swore Protector, remains outside of the bedroom, firmly standing right in front of the doors, keeping the entrance under his watch. The knight, wearing his shiny armor, is nearly blinkless, attending to each end of the hallway.

Jace’s hair is all disheveled, as well as Daera’s. While lying in bed, front to front, he slowly caresses the wounds on her arms, which are barely starting to heal. His fingertips follow the lines of dry blood, never-endlessly. Aegon’s nails drew those lines, with violence and no care. The only memory makes the brown-haired prince to shiver, and to clench his jaw.

She has eaten already. After her vomiting, her husband immediately sent the knight in search for food. Minutes then he came back with a lemon juice and a delicious broth made by Dyana, Dragonstone’s newest staff member. The princess ate as if it was her last time, which scared her brother a little, but then he encouraged her eating, also scolding her because of not having eaten anything during the whole day.

For a stupid moment, Daera wondered whether she pukes because se was starving, or as a signal that she definitely has lost the baby she once hoped to carry on her belly. Then, of course, she called herself an idiot, for that baby was never even there. How, huh? Aemond didn’t even give it time to.

With her right cheek resting on her pillow, Daera blinks slowly. Her purple eyes are staring at the fire of the chambers, seeing the flames dancing; she barely blinks while looking at them. The dancing flames. From a second to another, she came to remember one of the times she has seen Vhagar breathing fire.

-Vhagar!-, Aemond called his dragon, grasping his wife's thighs as they both stare down to the island-. DRACARYS!-, his voice commanded, firmly and loud.

The Queen of All Dragons, within a second, raised her head and opened her mouth, expelling a mountain of totally orange flames, which immediately lighted the surroundings. As Aemond growled with a pride smirk, Daera formed a grin when she had a clear sight of the island, now perfectly knowing where to land.

Daera shivers, parting her lips. Parting his as well, Jace stares at her face, which is warmly shining due to the lighting of the fire.

-What is it, Daera?-. He whispers, and she looks at him-…What has been keeping you so quiet all these hours?-, he wonders, curious. She scoffs briefly, through her nose.

-Everything has…-, she whispered too, as honestly as she could. The prince presses his lips, immediately understanding. His heart aches too because of Visenya, and Viserys, and his mother, because of…everything, as she just said-. To only picture it, Jace…-. Daera sighs with disbelief.

-To picture what?-, he questions, lightly furrowing his brown brows. Her purple eyes, reflecting the fire nearby, blink with some kind of fear, and her head shakes for a second.

-Dragon attacking dragon-. She then said, within a low and dense whisper. Jace gulps, opening his eyes a little wide, shivering when picturing it too. She curves her brows, breathing in and looking at him-. It’s fucking frightening-. Daera claims-

-It most definitely is, wife…-. The boy agrees, nodding. She gulps, looking down for a moment when hearing such word. “Wife”. That’s what she now does not know if she is to Aemond-. Such picture may hunt every mind that dares to think it-, he confesses.

-Yes-, she sighed, closing her eyes, and gulping again-. Jace, I don’t want Kalistrox to fight Vhagar…-, Daera sobbed lightly, with honesty and pain. He raised his brows, surprised by her specification. She sniffs, shaking her head-. She is a monster…and my mother’s dragon-, Daera murmurs, hurtful.

And Aemond’s.

-Easy, Daera, easy-. Jace talks before she gets deeper into her imagination. He sits on the bed, and takes her hands, making her eyes to climb to his face, looking up at him with a worriness she’s obviously trying to hide from him-. Fear not-, he softly whispers.

-That may be the worst fucking advice you’ve mouthed, shithead!-. His wife instantly shrieked, wrinkling her nose and quickly sitting on the bed. A smile almost drew itself on his lips, for it felt good to hear her usual funny cursings after such a sad day-. Fear appears to be my ally right now, for I know how to end this war, but all the men in that fucking table seem to desire to lengthen it as much as possible!-, she complains, furrowing her brows sharply.

-And our Queen is not listening to their urges-. Jacaerys instantly pointed, holding her hands tighter, and intertwining her fingers with his. Daera cocks her head to a side, listening to him with wide eyes-…and that’s what should occupy your mind-, he says-.

-That’s what should occupy theirs!-, she raises her brows, and then sighs heavily. Jacaerys stares at her with his sweet brown eyes. He’s full of trust and calmness, something that confuses her so much.

Daera madly wants to ride through the skies and hunt Aegon II Targaryen; end this at once. Her husband, on the other side, unconcernedly assures there’s nothing to be afraid of, and no need of riding nor hunting. They are their parents’ children.

He caresses her fingers; such a soft touch made her breathing to go a little calmer, which honestly surprised her. Her chest has been feeling heavy, and he’s making it a little light.

-I highly doubt that things come to matters of battle, Daera-. Jacaerys said with a recomforting tone, soft and sure. She blinks slowly, breathing in deeply-. It has been…two days since Viserys died, and everything has been kept under control-. He pointed, and that’s when he kind of lost her.

-The cunt has been crowned!-, she instantly grunted.

-There has yet to be a death of a King that doesn’t come with succession quarrels and temporary doubts-. Jacaerys instantly answered, making her to listen again. With her brows furrowed, she closes her lips-…but they pass. They always have, Daera, through history. It’s what I read of, daily!-. He stresses, trusted, briefly showing her a smile.

The Rogue Princess starts to blink constantly, truly hearing his words, which are rarely…making a lot of sense. He’s right. What if this is just a moment? A temporary doubt, as he said?

-Aegon may play King for a day or two, but the truth is one that’ll happen: he does not belong there. We do-. Prince Jacaerys, Heir to The Iron Throne, claims to his wife, princess Daera, who blinked with bemusement while staring at him-. We haven’t had to fight, have you notice? Everything has been done under diplomacy, as it should be-. He pointed, hopeful.

He does not know, of course, about Rhaenys unleashing Meleys under the roof of The Dragonpit, killing hundreds and hurting thousands.

Daera sighs longly, briefly cocking her head to a side. He looks back at her, grinning lightly while softly holding her hands. She sighed again, now letting out a chuckle. His heart lit up with that sound.

-Perhaps you’re right, but be assured, I only wish to slice Aegon’s head-, Daera sighed within a smile, closing her eyes. Jacaerys laughed, closing his too.

The prince presses his smiling lips, and then he headed towards her, for a hug. So, he hugged her, firmly and lovingly. Daera curved her brows, erasing her smile and quickly hugging him back, tighter and deeper. The both of them sighed when feeling the other’s warmth.

-They won’t we there for long-. The brown-haired prince whispers in her ears. Daera shivers, thinking ‘bout The Greens-…I promise this to you, wife-. He swore.

And moments after that, both princes couldn’t hold themselves for very much longer. They lied on the same bed, and fell asleep with quickness, tired and exhausted.

They deserved a good sleep, for they’ll rarely get any in the next night to come. Or the next. Or the next one to that. Nor in the next.

■ ■ ■

The next morning brought with itself a most joyous and relieving new. Lord Corlys Velaryon is healthy, and at Dragonstone.

Only a few have seen him, though. Not even the Queen has yet blessed her eyes with the sight of the Sea Snake, after almost seven long years. But, then again, some have seen him indeed.

Early in the morning, Rhaenys went looking for her three granddaughters; Baela woke up alerted, Rhaena worried, and Daera sleepy, awakened by soft caresses on her hair, and she left, leaving Jace sleeping alone in the bed. None of the three understood why their grandma sneaked them out of their rooms at very early hours.

Soon enough, they understood.

When entering to one of the halls of the castle, they saw Corlys standing in the middle of it, using a cane, but healthy and strong. It seemed like none of the girls could believe their eyes. Though Rhaena, for a second, looked like she was pretending her surprise, as if she already knew he was here. Did she?

Lord Corlys got as surprised as they. He couldn’t believe his old eyes when seeing those three young women standing in front of him, the two oldest now taller than his wife. Corlys stuttered, he really did, starting to realize how long he really was away.

“Rhaena is a recently bloomed flower, soft and delicate. Baela is fire made skin, vivid and alive. And Daera is a savage beauty, gorgeous and a fearless warrior.” The Sea Snake confirmed that the way Rhaenys described the girls before bringing them to him were, absolutely, truth.

-Grandsire!-, Baela screeched the harder when the three of them ran to him. They all were happily hugged by the old man, who surrounded them with his arms in the middle of bemused chuckles and smiles under Rhaenys’ prideful eyes.

They three were Laena’s living images.

After tight hugs and heartful declarations of love, Corlys got recalled that they’re also Daemon’s daughters, for they slashed him with harsh words, especially from Daera’s mouth. They cursed his fleeing, and called him a coward right to his face, also under Rhaenys’ prideful eyes.

-I, uh…-Corlys was left speechless-…I am truly sorry, my girls. Though I doubt the effectiveness of my sorriness-, he spoke with shame, curving his brows.

-You are right-, Baela raised her brows.

-It is useless!-, Daera claimed.

-Uhum-, Rhaena nodded.

-Indeed-, Rhaenys mumbled from her place.

Corlys opens his mouth, stuttering, and then sighing with a tired smile.

As the morning kept going, word spread all over the island that The Sea Snake has returned and is among them, walking and breathing. When hearing so, some would even gasp, as if it was about a ghost they were hearing of. Well, they kind of are.

Jacaerys woke up alone on Daera’s room; Ser Erryk wasn’t outside either. When hearing of the news, he understood for himself where Daera and his other sisters probably were. Then, however, he wondered why he wasn’t called too, for he’s also Lord Corlys’ grandchild, isn’t he?

Joffrey, the poor lad, was so confused because of everyone fuss about The Sea Snake’s return. In the boy’s defense, he barely remembers all the stories that has been told to him about his grandsire.

Lucerys gulped the harshest in his life when the news was told to him. He barely showed any reaction, as if he already knew his grandsire was there, in the very same castle as his. His blue eyes showed a weird kind of worriness, though his thin lips smiled with relieve.

Queen Rhaenyra called a meeting with her Black Council as soon as everyone broke their fast. Every lord and knight headed to The Chamber of The Painted Table as soon as hearing so, finding the royal family already there, though not complete.

There were only the mother and her boys; Rhaenyra, Jace and Luke. None of the princesses are at presence, and prince Daemon is nowhere to be found. Some saw him walking towards The Dragonmont, very early in the morning, but that was his last time seen.

The morning is clear and fresh. The castle’s multiple halls are well lighted by the sun, and a soft breeze enters its multiple windows as well, including The Chamber of The Painted Table. Alas, the feelings that surround it are not as pleasant.

Rhaenyra is seated at her chair, with her eyes down and her brows furrowed, deeply thoughtful while the men around her, all standing, have endless discussions.

-The purpose of war is to fill graveyards, my dear Lord St. Aunton-. Lord Bartimos speaks with taunt-. The trick is to put more of their men in the ground than your own!-, he added.

The Queen’s sons stand by the sides of the table as well, though they remain silent. Luke and Jace, standing side by side, glance all around the hall, seeing the discussing men and hearing their annoyed voiced. The older brother, in one moment, glances at the younger.

-You slept well last night?-, Jace questions within a murmur. Luke flinches, coming out of his thoughts.

-Why, yes-. He answered with swiftness, confusing his brother a little.

-Doesn’t it seem so-, he confesses. Lucerys sighs, looking away.

-Thanks for the flattering-. The boy whispers, burlesque. His older brother twists his mouth, planning on asking about why he didn’t sleep well last night, though he maybe knows why.

-Easy words from a lord who commands from the safety of his castle-, Lord St. Aunton answered calmly, raising his brows.

-Doesn’t make it any less true-, Lord Bartimos instantly pointed out.

-The Lord of The Tides!-. And suddenly, a loud announce made by Ser Erryk catches the attention of all ear and eye of the room. Rhaenyra quickly moves her head, standing up from her chair-. Lord Corlys Velaryon!-, he named.

Jacaerys and Lucerys instantly looked towards there, right at the moment when The Sea Snake’s cane made echo between the walls. Jace raised his chin, whilst Luke parted his lips, nervously holding his hands over his abdomen.

-And his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!-. Erryk announces as he watches front, having Queen Rhaenyra at his side.

Everybody stared at the stairs and, just as the White Cloak announced, Corlys walks the steps down with Rhaenys at his side. And, behind them, also coming down, are their three granddaughters. Daera, Baela and Rhaena. The three of them wear black and red today, contrary to the usual, where at least one of them wears the Velaryon blue.

Daera eyes the hall as she walks behind her grandparents. One of the first thing she catches is Ser Erryk, who’s standing besides to her step-mother. He closed his lips when she placed her eyes on him for two slow seconds. The knight remembers when princess Rhaenys came to her rooms in the erly morning, and ordered him to remain on his place.

-My Lord-, the Lord of the Tides greeted, noticing all the looks of awe towards him. For many, it is as if they were seeing some kind of legend and, well, let us allow him to be. The man has fought in The Stepstones twice, and lived to tell it.

-Lord Corlys-, Rhaenyra sighed his name when greeting him, immediately attracting his gaze.

As son as they came down from the stairs, the princesses headed towards the same place without even having to say it. They three walked to the end of the Painted Table, where their brothers were expecting for them. Luke and Rhaena shared a quick glum look while she was walking.

-It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again-, the Queen spoke with honesty and a smile towards the old man, who nodded in silence, looking at her with interest, and wide eyes. Behind him, his wife, who remains silent with a quiet smirk on her thin lips.

-I’m very sorry about your father, princess-. The lord then said, speaking loudly-…He was a good man-, he says with a light sorrow. Viserys’ daughter thanks him with a silent nod, pressing her lips.

After so, Corlys turns his head when hearing the steps of his granddaughters stepping away. He, then, saw Daera placing herself behind Jace, whom she shared a quick smirk with, and the same happened with Rhaena and Luke, who nodded towards the other while looking at their eyes, briefly smiling. Baela stood besides Daera, crossing her hands above her belly, and gifting her siblings a swift wink.

Lord Corlys parted his lips when seeing them, all, standing together. The boys have grown so much; as well as the girls. They’re all grown up… They’ve become a team, he can see.

The Sea Snake cocks his head, soon noticing that the royal family is not entirely complete.

-Where is Daemon?-, he asked, boldly. The girls were wondering that themselves, having noticed their dad’s absence since they arrived.

-There were other concerns which demanded the Prince’s attention-, Rhaenyra answered with quickness. Daera and Baela shared a curious glance, silently.

After raising his brows, Lord Corlys just hums, and walks forward, helping himself with his cane. Pressing his lips, Nyra follows him in silence.

-I had hope to see you when waking up-, prince Jacaerys suddenly whispered, only for his wife to hear. She opened her eyes big for a second, rolling them.

-Jace, not now-. Rapidly, she scolded. Soon, Jace realized how doubled-sensed that had sound. His cheeks started to burn.

-Your declared allies?-, lord Corlys questions after taking a look to the Painted Table.

Rhaenyra suddenly felt like a child. She approached to the table while giving a harsh nod, gulping.

-Yes!-, it was her answer.

-Too few to win a war for the throne-. He pointed out. Rhaenyra opens her mouth, doubtful, while her children glanced at their grandsire with cockiness, proud themselves of their declared allies.

-Well, we would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon and Stark-. The Queen says while nodding, looking at the banner of said houses.

-Hope…is the fool’s ally-. The Sea Snake reproaches, raising his hairy brows. Lucerys gulps, blinking and then looking at his mom.

-Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house-, Rhaenyra points with sureness-, but all of them swore oaths to me!-, she quickly reminded, lifting her brows.

-As did House Hightower…!-, he recalls. Daera parts her lips, turning her head to look at him, and feeling an ugly weight on her chest when hearing that house. Of course, she thought of Aemond. What is he doing now?-…if I remember-

-As did you, Lord Corlys-

The Queen got tired of being taunted at, and answered with coldness, leaving everyone speechless, including the very Lord Corlys, who just remained with his brows up and his mouth open. Jace forms a smirk to the side of his face, prideful. Daera blinked with confidence, looking at her grandsire.

Corlys remains silent, turning around to watch at every face of the hall, studying it. His eyes drove themselves to his grandchildren, whom all looked back at him. Luke holds his hands with obvious nervous, looking away after connecting their eyes. Corlys sighed through his nose, not believing how grown the little boy now is.

Ser Erryk sees the expression of pride on his protected princess. He noticed, in the moment she entered the room, that she’s still “showing off” her wounds made by King Aegon II, as a way of reminding everybody how beast of an animal he is. She’s definitely not one scared of blood, nor of daring.

-Your father’s realm was one of justice and honor-. Lord Corlys’ voice covers the room as everyone is listening to him, including the Queen, whose jaw is clenches-. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand!-, he denies loudly.

-Fuck yeah-, princess Daera agrees.

-Daera-, Rhaena quickly tsked.

Corlys stares at the Queen with confidence, wisdom, and decision.

-You have the full support of our fleet, and house-. The Lord of The Tides declared with total determination. The children breathed with hope and surprise, while those same feelings shined on Rhaenyra’s eyes-…Your Grace-, he slowly bowed his head to her.

-You honor me, Lord Corlys…-. Nyra confessed, bemused.

Lucerys sighs through his open lips. He blinks, and looks at Rhaena, who looks back at him with softness and a smile.

-I told you…-, she mouthed. He chuckles a little, closing his mouth back again.

Rhaenyra turns around to see at Rhaenys. She was already looking at her, with one of the sincerest smirk she has ever given. Something is changed in her grandmother eyes, which Daera realized and thanked with relief, staring at them two.

-Princess Rhaenys-, Rhaenyra nods, thanking her as well.

The Queen Who Never Was nods back at her, almost seeming pride. Rhaenyra looks at Corlys again, smiling. But then, realizing that she’s showing far too emotion, the Queen breaks her chuckles and breathes in, looking at the table again.

-But…-, she bites her inner cheeks, still fighting against her smile. In silence, Luke knows her too well, noticing her desire to cheer-, as I said to my bannermen, I made a promise to my father to hold the realm storm and united-. She determines-. If war’s first stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand-. The Queen says.

Rhaena listens to her with a pleasing smirk, nodding endlessly, agreeing with every word. Oh, how much Rhaena admires her step-mother’s position in the middle of all of this. However, Rhaena’s grandsire didn’t seem to understand this much.

-You do not mean to act?-, Corlys questioned, confused. Humming, Daera agreed with his question. She has said it before and she’ll say it again: all’d be solved by taking Aegon’s head at once.

-Taking caution does not mean standing fast-. Rhaenyra corrected, raising her brows.

-But it could be, Your Grace, if we employ to much time in just cautions-. Princess Daera spoke with her brows up, softly. Her family and the lords glanced at her, and her step-mother quickly answered.

-I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war-. Nyra replied with total determination, crossing her hands over her belly while studying the table. Daera sighed, closing her lips into a tiny smile, and nodding.

Unfaceted, Corlys just nodded and shrugged, accepting her reasons. He walked some calmed steps closer to her, being watched by everyone while he did so.

-The consequence of my…near demise, in The Stepstones…is that we now control them-. He said, just like that, from a moment to another. Rhaenyra instantly looked at her children, parting her lips and looking back at them. They also went speechless, opening their eyes widely-. I took care to fully garrison the territory this time-, he informs.

-Oh gods-, Luke sighs with no voice.

-A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be place in days, if not already. The Triarchy have been routed-, Lord Corlys goes into detail-…The Narrow Sea, is ours-. He declared, raising his brows towards The Queen.

Daera blinks fastly, shaking her head. A huge chuckle left her lungs in that moment, and her chest started to beat really fast. The own the seas! They own THE sea! They have the upper hand, by far. They have the sea, the more dragons, the more willing.

-Oh goodness, oh fuck-. Daera trembles and chuckles, placing her open hands on the table-. You were right-, she whispered, amused, looking up to Jace.

He looks down at her, thoughtful, but gibving her a hopeful smile, nodding. She giggles again, breathing fastly, and then staring forward.

-So- So what do we do, grandsire!?-. The princess asked with a vivid voice. He smirked to her, also placing his hands on the table, making everyone to look at it.

-If we further seal The Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing-. He goes pointing and they go nodding, perfectly understanding his strategy.

-I shall take Meleys and patrol The Gullet myself-. Rhaenys declares, stepping besides Rhaenyra while looking at her husband. Speechless by her willing to help, the Queen looked at her, who looked back too.

The Queen Who Never Was gave Queen Rhaenyra a soft smirk, slowly breathing through her nose.

Daera laughs through hers whilst she reads the map, nodding. She feels like she’s seeing the fucking future! With all this strength to their side, this dithering will be over most likely within the week, if not before. And then they’ll be safe again, and having what is theirs.

-Fuck me…-, she whispers to herself, already beginning to think how she’ll do to gain a royal pardon to Aemond and Helaena. But it’ll be fine, Rhaenyra is not a murderer nor cruel; she’ll pardon her half-siblings but Aegon, who’s the actual one to blame, besides Alicent and Otto, of course. They two shall rot in a cell and the false King shall meet Daera’s sword’s end. But Aemond, Helaena, and the children, oh yes, they’ll be fine. But, ah fuck! How will she fuck with Aemond now that they’ll all live in The Red Keep? Well, she still has that to figure it out.

This is the problem about Daera. She sometimes thinks too fast.

-When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King’s Landing, lay siege to The Red Keep, and force The Greens’ surrender-. Lord Bartimos plans, convinced, and the Queen listens carefully, staring at the table. Jacaerys is doing the same.

-If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing, we must first secure the support of Winterfell, The Eyrie, and Storm’s End-. Rhaenyra declares with seriousness. Luke nods while hearing, as hopeful as his sisters.

-I’ll preprare the ravens, Your Grace-. The Maester Gerardys spoke with his usual kindness.

The Queen nodded towards him, convinced. Though, then, someone refuted to this.

-We should bear those messages-. One of the prince’s voices fills everyone’s ears, and it wasn’t Lucerys’.

Rhaenyra lifts her chin and looks forward. The girls and the other boy turned their heads to look at the older brother. Jacaerys was the one who spoke, and he too, as his mother, keeps his chin up, standing with a bad posture but a good willing.

Daera slowly parts her lips, narrowing her eyes. He looks to her for a moment, and then looks back at the Queen to talk.

-Dragons can fly faster than ravens…-He says. Luke’s blue eyes flickered, and he scolded himself the moment he started to fear the idea of going outside of Dragonstone alone. He pressed his lips, and gave a harsh nod, looking down when agreeing. He didn’t notice Rhaena’s silent look on him. She pressed her lips strongly, disliking Jacaerys’ idea, and Daera’s apparent love for it-…and they’re more convincing-. He states.

-Less chit chat nor dithering if we are the ones to go-. Princess Daera quickly spoke after her husband, supporting him. Queen Rhaenyra stares at them both with cold eyes, serious-. Ravens cannot speak for themselves either, but we can-. She raises her brows.

-We can also write-, Rhaena reminded.

-But better is to speak-. Everybody in The Chamber of The Painted Table was left surprised when Prince Jacaerys and Princess Daera, husband and bride, said the same answer at the same time. That made Nyra to part her lips, and Rhaena to be toothless.

-One landing of both our dragons, and they’ll already be ours-. Daera speaks with desire of permission, hunger of adventure, and her husband nods with the same feelings-. We’ll be back in days-, she shrugs, confident.

As many lords as knights look at the both of them with prideful gaze, never having doubt the fierce children of The Queen. Ser Erryk watched at her princess, having his lips pressed. She glanced at him for a second, showing him a mischievous smirk. The White Cloak almost laughed. They both know they’ll be parted were she to take this mission.

-Send us-. Jace pleads. At his sides, Baela smirks, Daera nods, Luke waits for the answer with parted lips and opened eyes, and Rhaena fears for all of them with her mouth shut.

-The prince is right, Your Grace-. Lord Corlys agreed with pride on his voice, smiling at Jace, and then looking at his mother.

Nyra eyed The Sea Snake, and then looked back at the children. Now they’re all five looking at her, all of them waiting for an answer. Baela wants to be as involved a they can, to win back their throne. Jace remains serious, knowing that ‘tis the right step. Daera licks her lips with a smile, knowing they’ll win every bannerman they go to visit. Lucerys gulped his fear away, and nodded with confidence, bravely. Rhaena hates her sibling’s braveness, she hates Luke’s most of all, and waits for a full, total, completely denial from the Queen.

-Very well-, Rhaenyra nodded.

Rhaena’s breathing left her body. After this, she didn’t hear much more. Her shoulders got loose and her eyes lost in some point of the room. She doesn’t like this. The youngest girl fears their courage, for it’ll take them apart from each other. Only together victory will be ours, as it has always been. They’re grieving, for the gods’ sake. The worst idea right now is to…leave.

-Princes Daera and Jacaerys will flight north-, The Queen dictates.

-I’ll get my fucking boots-. Daera snaps her fingers, and Jace nods.

-Easy, Daera-. Her step-mother scolded-. First, you’ll go to The Eyrie to see my mother’s cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn…and then to Winterfell, to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North-. She explains with a firm voice, while they nod.

Daera starts to furrow her brows when she sees Nyra’s eyes falling on Luke.

-Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End, and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon-. She ordered to her middle son, who listened with parted lips, silent.

The eldest sister, Daera, blinked harshly, and gulped harsher. She hadn’t realized that Luke would be assigned a place to fly too. When she said “we” she was referring to Jacaerys and herself, not…Luke. The idea of him flying out of Dragonstone, alone on his own, didn’t appealed to her one bit.

But, remembering her fight with Lucerys on yesterdays’ breakfast, she gulped and remained silence, for now, not wanting to speak out loud her discomfort in front of everyone. Perhaps she’s beginning to understand that that would shame him, maybe. But, hell no, he can’t go alone. She doesn’t want him too.

-We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore!-. Queen Rhaenyra speaks with decision and trust, having a tiny smirk on her lips-. And…! the cost of breaking them-, she added, fearless.

Lord Corlys smirk with his lips closed, agreeing, and nodding towards her with pride.

■ ■ ■

-…Never take them off…-, Aemond asked, caressing her curly mane.

-Never-, Daera quickly agreed, narrowing her eyes.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #hotd season 1 #original writing #ewan mitchell

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camilbarnessss · 5 months

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《 Hope in Winterfell 》

Jacaerys Velaryon

"Prince Jacaerys will fly north..."

Prince Jacaerys Velaeyon, the Heir to The Iron Throne, feels hopeful during his staying at Winterfell, a land of white snow and simple people, gaining their hearts and trust everyday, as well as Cregan Stark's.

The prince foresees glory in his future ahead, his mother's queenship getting restored, the Seven Kingdoms being at peace.

After glum days in Dragonstone, he has found hope at Winterfell.

That was, of course, prior to finding out his brother's murder in Storm's End.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #jacerys velaryon #the heir to the iron throne #winter #winterfell #cregan stark #one shot #hotd #hotd edit #harry collett

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camilbarnessss · 6 months

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 10 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, references to sex, mentions of death family drama, explicit birth (stillborn), angst, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

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Aegon has been crowned King of The Seven Kingdoms; Alicent and Otto put him there, despite he didn't want it. Though, after the crown was placed on his head, his mind appeared to...change. However, that is a matter we will seek into later.

All feeling of glory and success was interrupted by the princess Rhaenys and her dragon, Meleys, as we well remember, when dragon and dragonrider came alive from the undergrounds of The Dragonpit, roaring a warning of war, or a cry of it, we might say. She fled from there, leaving two things with her departure: dozens -if not hundred- of dead smallfolk, and a very clear message to The Greens.

The Queen Who Never Was took off towards Dragonstone. She's on her way, at the moment, nervously gripping her leather gloves on her saddle as she goes through the skies and the clouds, having the ancient island as her end stop.

But, while she is still arriving, the things in the seat of the Heir to The Iron Throne are still calmed and easy. Relatively.

Aegon and Viserys, the little babes, are still abed, for it is still too early. Any ways, Rhaenyra and the whole of her family are already awake and, at the moment, they're on their way to share their usual break of fast in the morning.

The family is walking up one of the many mountains of Dragonstone, where their table and breakfast already await for them, as well as four guards in the distance, to watch after them. As they walk up the hill, and they hear their dragons' near sounds, every each of the family is doing their thing.

-Yeah y'all already know who I am!-, Joffrey goes speaking sharpy and loudly, with his "northern" accent-. This tummy of mine is hungry for dine!-, he rhymes, taking long steps.

-It is breakfast, Joff-. Nyra reminds him with a funny laugh, caressing his brown mane as she caress her bulged belly too.

-I care not, girl, I just wanna eat!-, the boy yells with a big smile, proud of his "accent". His mother just sighs, letting him be.

Daera and Rhaena, sweetly holding their elbows while they walk, talk vividly about the younger sister's dragon egg. Last night was her first night with it, and Rhaena can't be more excited for it. She is telling her older sister about how she cuddled with it, in front of the fireplace of her chambers, and swears she feels a heartbeat in it. Daera got so excited when learning so, encouraging her sister to keep doing that every night. As excited as she, however, Rhaena didn't share the fact that she prayed all night to have a dragon just like the ones of her sisters.

Another conversation goes between Baela and Luke, who are sharing their love over food as they both crazily agree that the new maiden in the island, Dyana, has only been here for a day, and yet she already seems to be the one who makes the best crunchy breads and scrambled eggs, for they have been a delicacy since yesterday's breakfast. They are really looking forward for more.

Jacaerys walks by his own, near his siblings, silent. He may be feeling the fresh winds of the morning and hearing his dragon's songs from the distance, but there is something he is more aware of. His nape hurts because of some eyes nailed in it. Jace turns his head, slowly, looking for the responsible who has been staring at him since first thing in the morning.

Daemon, being the one who walks the slowest, stares at Jace with no dissimulation. His eyes are sharp and his lips wrinkled. He seems annoyed, but...why? What did Jace do? Holy gods, it looks like he wants to fucking push him off the hill.

Jace just gulps and blinks, confused, looking up front again with a serious expresion. While the air blows his soft brown hair, he eyes his wife, from the distance. She wears a light red dress of long sleeves, for she still hides the long wounds in her arms.

-YES!-, Baela cheers when they finally reached the table, and saw the scrambled eggs served in there-. This is what I am talking about-. She chuckles, excited.

-Gross-, Rhaena rolled her eyes when seeing the eggs, and Rhaenyra held a laugh, remembering that funny story.

They all took seat in their spots, not waiting a second to start serving their breakfast in their plates. They do not pray before eat, as Queen Alicent heartily always does. When thinking about her, Daera gulped lightly, inevitably thinking about Aemond too. Oh...

Lucerys and Daera ended up seated side to side and, while they were serving their food, they drew a quick smile to each other, softly lifting their cheeks.

Rhaena, on Luke's right, ignores the eggs while she fetches herself some fruits, looking at them with a little smile. Seated in front of her, Daemon looks at Daera, and then at Jace, hardening his eyes within a second. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra is also peeking at her oldest son from time to time, giggling lowly and chewing her breakfast.

-Joff, the food won't run away of your plate-. Baela laughs as she sees Joffrey eating like an animal, really quick and hungry.

-One never knows-, he says with his mouth filled of food. She cackles funnily, shaking her head.

Slowly, Jace sighs through his nose, pinching the fried meat on his plate as he stares at it. He is not really hungry, to be honest, at least not as much as his little brother, The Tamer.

Chewing her food, Daera turns her head to eye Luke, who is calmly eating at her side. She looks at him for a few silent seconds, feeling her heart get warm just by the sight of him. It is so ridiculous, that sometimes happens when she sees at any of her siblings.

-Hey-. She calls him, softly.

-Um, yeah?-. He raises his brows towards her, speaking while chewing. Rhaena looks as well, keeping a little smile on her lips.

-You haven't told me how was the trip back home, in the ship-. Daera says with a funny smile, raising her brows with curiosity.

-Oh-, he smiles, leaving his fork in the plate-. It was lovely, and I got to know a little the new handmaiden, Dyana!-. He tells with excitement. Meanwhile, his betrothed started to chuckle.

-You did?!-, Daera smiles bigly, glad, and he nods, proud of his social skills-. Ugh, she is lovely, isn't she?-. The older sister asks, calmly leaning in the back of her chair.

-She is, I hope we can be friends-. Lucerys nods, hopeful, for the girl is only one year older than him, so it wouldn't be hard to find a new friendship.

-The only bad thing was that you puked a lot, right?-. Rhaena mentions in between laughs, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Luke opened his eyes big, and she immediately gasped, realizing that she said it accidentaly. And when hearing it, Daera's brows came down, and her eyes gained instant concern.

-What?-, she mumbles.

-Rhaena!-. The boy, quickly blushing with shame, hisses her name with a low voice. She gives him a pity and embarrased face, asking for forgiveness.

-Did you?-. Daera sighs, worried-. Did you ask the cooks of the ship to give you something for the dizzines? You know it always helps you at least a bit-. She tsks her tongue, placing a hand on his hair to caress it softly.

Luke only breathes in deeply, not looking at her anymore, nor at anyone. His cheeks hurt as they burn red, and he presses his lips as he feels Daera's tender caresses and her overly worried mumbles.

-...You leave today, then-. Jace's voice covers the table when he talked, raising his brows towards his mother, and his wife.

Both of them turned their heads to look at him. Joffrey made a sad pout, looking at them, whilst Daemon blinked slowly, looking down. Baela and Rhaena made faces as well, recalling that they two are to fly back to the capital.

-Indeed-. Rhaenyra sighs, siding a quick smile when recalling she'll be seeing Alicent, with a good will, after all this years-. We will be leaving after breakfast, when we are ready to go-. She smiles, turning to look at her oldest step-daughter.

This one grins to her, and nods, briefly raising her brows.

-Yeah...-, only a thin whisper left her lips.

Within just a blink, the brown skinned princess thinks about her upcoming-...no. She was about to think "her upcoming child", soonly recalling that it's gone. Her sweet Alyssa. She thinks about Alyssa. That made her remember Aemond. Today, she'll see him again, at last, and they'll talk -and probably discuss- about the topic.

Daera is anxious, she won't deny it. But, as she has confessed to herself, she just wants to see him already, to finally talk about what he did, what she did, what they said, and what happened the last time they saw each other.

-Don't forget the gifts!-, Joffrey quickly points, raising his spoon.

-Uhh, I want a new necklace!-, Rhaena asks with a smile.

-I never forget your gifts-. Daera said with a calm smile, staring at them. Joff smiles to her, which made her to grin warmer.

-To be honest with you, I myself have been wondering if, perhaps, I could join you-. Jacaerys informed with a proud smile, all of a sudden, making everyone to look at him. Daera’s lips departed, immediately thinking of how already it’ll be hard enough to find time alone with Aemond while Nyra is in town. It would only be twice as hard with Jace’s presence as well. Meanwhile, Daemon clenched his jaw, unconsciously being her daughter’s savior-. What do you think?-, he whispers, turning his head to look at his wife, who didn’t even have a second to answer.

-You will not-. Daemon’s sharp voice answered, making echo even though they were at an open space. Rhaenyra furrowed her brows, staring at him with a slight confusion. Jacaerys gulped, and the girls raised their brows high, glancing at their father-. Why would you?-, he asks, almost burlesque, narrowing his eyes, and smiling with cockiness.

-To grow more familiar with my future land, as it’s future King, of course-. Jace immediately answered, hiding that he was intimidated by The Rogue Prince, who snorted a dry laugh. Daera cocks her head, curious.

-Before King you’ll be the prince of Dragonstone-. Daemon says, not blinking once-. So you shall remain in Dragonstone-. He states, flinch-less. Rhaenyra caresses Daemon’s arm as she sighs, looking at her oldest, who narrowed his eyes with confusion, insulted.

-Father, are you…-Baela cocks her head to a side, interested, and careful-…angry, or something?-. She questions with honest curiosity, knowing that look on her father’s crazy eyes. Rhaena, on the other hand, gulped strongly, wondering wether it is her that he is angry with. It would not be of new.

Daemon just presses his lips, looking away as the wind blows his silver hair. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra sighed with a tired smile, gripping his elbow as she watches at her children, who all looked at her with curiosity, sensing that she knew the meanings of the prince’s temper. And she does.

-Last night, when we went to put Joffrey to bed, uh…-Nyra presses a smile, raising her brows. Her eyes fell on Daera and Jacaerys, who instantly flinched-…he told us something about the two of you-. The princess giggles, with pride shining on her gaze. Rhaena gasps-. Something that, uh, wed people do-. She added.

-Joffrey!-, Luke gasped harshly, as well as the other siblings, while Jacaerys melted on his chair, blushing, and Daera blinked bigly, going blank.

-Oh my gods, Joff, you weren’t supposed to tell!-. Baela tsks her tongue with reproachment, curving her brows. The little boy stutters before his siblings’s disenchant with his doings.

-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!-. He immediately insists, lifting his brows to the top of his head, and jumping on his seat.

Rhaenyra chuckles lovely, looking at the sky, being the most joyous of all. Daemon, all jealous and serious, eyes to the pair of spouses. Daera is just sighing, scratching her forehead with clear tiredness, while Jace is painted of red, mumbling things to himself as he shakes his head and constantly eyes her, inevitably recalling the things they’ve done, and the fact that they haven’t talked about the last time yet.

Joffrey tsks his tongue, now ashamed of having told his parents about “Jace’s happy screams with Daera”.

-It is alright, it is alright!-. Rhaenyra tries to calm everyone as she chuckles, more than proud of her son, matters to say. He looks at her, grunting, covering the half of his face with a napkin-. Might I hope for grandchildren of soon?-, she asks, more than excited, opening her eyes big.

-Mother!-, Jace gasps while Luke almost spitted his food, covering his mouth and laughing.

-Holy fuck-, Daera sighed.

Daemon snorts, furrowing his lips with further disgust. Joffrey presses his mouth, not listening at Rhaena trying to comfort him.

-No grandchildren for anyone will arrive no soon!-. Daera clarified with a firm voice, raising her brows. Rhaenyra sighs, still with a smile, shaking her head. She is delighted-. Jace and I didn’t go that far, AND, fuck, we should not be talking of this!-. She grunted while scratching her forehead, opening her eyes big.

-There is no shame in such topics-, Nyra says with a lovely smirk, and Daemon grunted.

-Pe-perhaps we should rather talk of Luke in the ship, puking at all times!-. The innocent and kind-hearted Joffrey proposes, trying to change the private topic he is to blame for. Alas, the boy didn’t execute his change of topic in the smartest way.

-Oh, come on, Joff!-. Lucerys hisses, turning as red as his older brother-. I am not to…!-

-Joffrey, do not make fun of Luke!-. Daera reproaches the little one immediately. This one gulps, while Lucerys turned to look at her with his brows furrowed, still with words on his mouth that she interrupted-. He is sensible to the tides of the sea, and that is no reason to make a jest of-, she states, and then she looks at him-. Neither, of course, to hide it from me-. The princess adds, clearly offended. The blue-eyed boy scoffs, shaking his head-, which I sincerely do not know why you did it, but that is quite fine-. She mumbled, looking away from him.

-I didn’t tell you so you wouldn’t be- babying me!-. Lucerys suddenly accused, yelling with obviousness and tediousness. The whole family froze, surprised. Even Daemon’s face came loose. Daera stays blinkless, staring at her plate-, as you very much are doing now, sister!-. He adds with no doubt.

-Huh, didn’t know my concern was not welcome!-. Daera’s voice trembled for a second while her face turned to look at him. Her eyes are hugely opened, and Luke’s blue ones flickered with distress-. I do not see why telling me that you puked on the ship would have been the second doom, brother-. She hisses, burlesque.

-Enough-. Rhaenyra spoke with firmness, looking at them both.

Silence is made. Luke blinks, looking down and pressing his lips, keeping quiet. Daera, meanwhile, huffed and drew a tiny sarcastic smirk, shaking her head. Just what she needed: another one being ungrateful with her.

-Don’t tell me anything, then…-she mumbled under her breath. Lucerys heard. And he exploded.

-Heavens, Daera, can you really blame me?!-. The blue-eyed prince suddenly yelled, again, from one moment to another, abruptly turning to look at her. She opened her lips, looking at him too-. Every time the- the slightest inconvenience happens to me you go and- and hold me away from everything, as if I am made of glass!-. The boy complains, furrowing his brows.

-So then are you blaming me for worrying?! Is that something I am terribly guilty of?!-. Daera, never keeping a thought to herself, screeches with despair, clashing her fork against the table. Rhaena and Joffrey flinched.

-Enough, the both of you!-. Rhaenyra flinches as well, reproachful. But they didn't listen.

-Everybody worries, but you- you simply do not let me be sometimes, Daera, you have to acknowledge it!-. Luke insists with an angry tone. His sister shakes her head, bemused-. So what if I puke?! What can you even possibly do to solve that?!-, he questions, looking for no answer.

-I am not saying I would have made a freaking potion to ease your dizziness! But why must I remain unnotified of your sickness on the ship?! Can’t a sister worry, brother?! Do enlighten me!-. Daera roars as light tears gather on her tired purple eyes.

-Very well, cease this!-, Jacaerys tries to silence them, but nothing interrupted Luke’s following words.

-Well your worriness may be turning me into a stupid being!-. His voice broke, and his sister gasped, opening her lips with surprise-. Useless! So constantly- constantly and intensely cooed and hidden behind you that I- I sometimes do not know what to do!-. Luke complains with honesty, and distress. He was being honest of how he feels about himself, but all that his sister is listening to is an accusation, for caring.

-Oh! Sorry for looking after you, Luke!-. Daera hisses, furrowing her brows. In that very moment, Lucerys stood up abruptly, very rare of him, letting out a broken sob.

-How will I ever make a good lord, if you never let me learn and experiment things for myself?!-. The future Lord of The Tides squeaked with true despair, and as soon as he yelled, he turned around, and started to quickly walk away from them all.

Rhaenyra stood up within a second, sighing. Daera closed her mouth and gulped strongly, bemused, not taking Luke’s words completely in. While the others keep silence, also shocked, she starts to stand from her chair, slowly, feeling a great weight on her wounded shoulders.

-Daera-, her step-mother quickly approaches to her, softly grabbing her elbows.

-What- what did I do?-. Daera whispers with disbelief, shaking her head. The older princess sighs, closing her eyes for a second while shaking her head-. I only care for him, Nyra!-. She insists with a desperate voice.

-I know, I know-. She immediately nods, caressing her elbows with her tender thumbs. The younger princess huffs, slowly blinking, and looking at her little brother walking down the hill with his fists tight at the sides of his body. Rhaenyra also looks at there, with softness shining on her eyes.

Nyra felt wise, to be honest, for she understands the both of them.

-Would you…talk to him?-. Daera’s angriness didn’t seem to last long, for her voice rapidly became low and soft after seeing Luke’s angry walking. From the table, her family look at him too. Rhaena plays with her fingers, nervous-. Please?-, she whispers.

-I was planning to-. Rhaenyra nods with slowness, pressing her lips into a quick smile towards her. They look at each other, while she caresses her covered elbows-…Of course, my dear-. The Heir mumbled.

Seconds then, Rhaenyra started to walk the hill down as well, caressing her pregnant belly while doing so. Two of the four guards of the breakfast followed her, doubtlessly helping her to go with carefulness. Daera sighed, closing her eyes and not wanting to look at anyone else. So, eye-closed, she shook her head, and started to walk away as well.

-Pardon me-, she muttered, barely being heard. Jace parted his lips, concerned for her.

Without uttering a single word, Daemon stood up from his chair, and with long steps he followed his daughter’s path from the distance, keeping silence and a straight face, not revealing any of his thoughts on his expression.

Then, the rest of the siblings stayed alone at the table. Rhaena sighed and Baela tsked her tongue with tiredness, returning to her eating.

-…Is it my fault?-. Joffrey suddenly asked, confused and shamed.

-No-, Jace instantly shook his head.

-No, Joff, of course it is not-. Rhaena noted at the instant.

-This is no one’s fault, Joffrey-. Baela eased him with a soft smile. The little boy smiles tiny as well, still disappointed by his family’s discussion-…These things happen, it is nothing bad-. She whispered, giving a tender caress to his brown hair.

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Kalistrox sighs heavily through his nose, and all of that hot air traveled to princess Daera’s face, for she is standing right in front of her dragon. She caresses his chin as their foreheads rest together as one. They listen and feel the other’s heartbeat. They both are unsettled.

How am I supposed to not care for him?, the princess wonders as she constantly sighs. Her violet eyes are closed, and her soft hands go up and down on Kalistrox’s chin, warming it with her own warmth, even though he very much has his own. Daera gulps, thinking about how tired she actually feels. More than before, now that she had that unexpected and hurtful discussion with her dear brother, Luke.

-Fucking hells…-, she whispered, leaning more on her dragon’s forehead. The Golden Ray purrs lowly, closing his gold eyes as he feels his rider’s distress and extreme sadness. She has been feeling this way since…that night.

The night Laena died, Daera followed her every step until she faced Vhagar, and commanded to burn her alive. Even on time, Daera did nothing, too young, naive and scared to do something. Her mother’s death was the last time Daera failed in protecting someone. Since then, she has been nothing but her loved one’s defender. And now…Luke doesn’t want it? Now that she pays mind to it…didn’t she fail too, in protecting Alyssa?

While the princess struggles with her harsh thoughts and feelings, someone arrived to the tall hill she is cuddling with her dragon in. The Rogue Prince arrives with silent and slow steps, watching at the huge holden beast that purrs to his daughter while she constantly sighs and mumbles on his gold scales.

Daemon halts his steps, knowing to maintain a prudent distance with the dragon. Soon, when this one grows a little, Daera opens her eyes, sensing the presence of someone else. Slowly, she turns around her head while caressing Kalistrox’s nose. There, near from her, she finds her father.

They look at each other, silently. The sound of the strong wind was soon opaqued by the princess’s voice.

-I am not an evil sister for wanting to protect my siblings-. Daera defended herself before even accused. Daemon sighed through his nose, placing his hands on the belt where his weapons rests-. Better said, I am not evil for wanting to protect you all-, she raises her brows.

-He’ll learn nothing, Daera-. Daemon’s unique voice spoke with calmness and serenity as his violet narrowed eyes look at her from the distance-, not if you and Nyra keep overprotecting him like you do-. He denied, and his daughter shook her head, looking at the green grass under her bare feet-. He used the right word, the boy…-he mumbles, taking some steps front-…you baby him far too much-, Daemon pointed.

The brown skinned princess bites the insides of her cheeks, thoughtful. The wind sings in the ears of the princes and the dragon, who now looks at the man with a serene but alerted gaze, feeling the tender touches from his sad rider.

-The day we saw mom burn…nobody could do anything-. Daera, then, whispered. Near enough, her father heard, and he felt his chest weighting when hearing so. The recalling of Laena’s broken cries, and her burning body made him to shiver, something he rarely does. Those memories, though, always achieve to make his spine tremble, and his heart to beat with an extreme discomfort, to not say sadness, for he does not like that word when referring to himself.

-If you would have shielded your mother from the fire, then the both of you would have burned-. Daemon pointed in between mumbles and snorts-. Shielding them is not the way, child-. He shook his head. The girl presses her lips, looking at him with a listening face, but also a sad one-. Shielding them is not the way, because when it is their turn to fight things by themselves…they won’t-. He stated, serious.

-Well, that very thing is my exact concern, father-. Daera sighs with obviousness. Her arms bounced at the sides of her body with tiredness when she stopped caressing Kalistrox-. I do not want them to ever be alone, nor helpless…frightened…-she whispered, looking down for a second to gulp with discomfort, thinking of Laena, yet again.

Daemon stares at her, with not even a blink in the middle. He cannot lie to himself. His daughter’s worriness and nobility moves him deeply. She cares, she truly does, and she knows how to act on it. Ah, of all the sweet things she has inherited from her mother…this might be the one who resembles to her the more.

The prince closes his eyes, and loosens his head, looking at the grass as well. He sighs through his nose, hearing his daughter doing it too, at the same time. They look at each other again and, for a second, he saw in front of him the little child she once was. Innocent, and pure…Past days, of course.

-I, too, used to perform that way of protection, with you three-. The Rogue Prince confesses, alluding to his three daughters His three treasures. When hearing so, Daera curved her brows, gulping-…And now look at Rhaena-. He points.

-Father-, she sighs tiredly.

Daemon keeps approaching, taking slow steps under the eyes of the golden dragon, who did not show any restriction to him. The princess presses her lips, looking at her father, who now stands close to her, looking at her face in silence.

-…Is it a crime, to care?-, she asks, whispering. Daemon huffs through his nose, raising his brows

-Wonderful question-, he mumbles cockily, nodding. Daera sides her head, expecting for answer. He sighs, siding her head too-. Daughter-, he softly whispered, looking at her sad eyes-. To love, sometimes is…to not care…-. Daemon muttered with patience, and slowness-…to let be…-, he nods.

By only imagining any of her siblings being helpless, with her not there to take care of them, Daera sobbed with heaviness. Her sob turned into a dry laugh that contained no grace in it.

-Then I’ll have to learn how to love, it seems…because I do not see it possible-. The princess confessed with a tired snort. Her father snorted a quick laugh, lifting his cheeks.

Unusually tender, Daemon scrunched his nose and approached more to her. His forehead touched with hers, and their eyes looked at each other from a short distance. Daera blinks with a weary expression, and her father stares at her with a soft smirk, blinking slowly.

-You’ve always known, my child…-he whispered, honest.

Inevitably, Daera laughs a little, and she did it even harder when her father surprised her with a brief kiss placed on her forehead. He laughs too, amused by her surprise, and she closes her eyes with a smile. At least, some love.

Daera and Daemon smile to each other, silently, feeling the soft breeze dancing around them. Seconds ten, he scrunches his lips.

-…So Jace and you didn’t go that far, did you?-. Daemon mumbled, and that made her to laughed again. Daera loved the sound of her own laugh. How much she adores it.

-I rather not to talk any about it, please!-. She chuckles, curving her brows. Daemon hummed and rolled his eyes, making Daera to giggle with a sweet smile, shrugging. He smirks, blinking softly.

■ ■ ■

Princess Rhaenyra knows her children. The ones she has delivered to this world from herself, as well as the ones she hasn't.

She knows how they behave, how they get happy, how they get...mad.

Jacaerys, for one example, gets desperate when he's angry. He tries to be the most perfect perfection in The Seven Kingdoms, and fails horribly, thanks to said desperation. Rhaena, her youngest step-daughter, doesn't emit a word. Silence is her way of madness, making one to even think that the girl has gone mute or so.

Daera screchees curses, and Joffrey cries endlessly. Baela gets her father's mad eyes. Even Aegon and Viserys get mad sometimes, and they puke when they do. And Lucerys, her boy, he...

He ponders.

As he is doing now, at The Chamber of The Painted Table. All by himself, after the quarrel with his oldest sister.

Greytower Watch, Old Stone, The Eyrie, The Vale of Arrryn. A bunch of names in that table, indeed. But he's only looking at one. Reading it, time after time.

Driftmark.

He does it so concentratedly and thoughtful, that he didn't hear the steps that entered to the chambers. His mother, silent, stares at him for some seconds, breathing through her nose, looking at him thinking.

-There you are-. She finally speaks, and her child immediately looks up, parting his dry pink lips. She could almost see the tiny tears on his blue eyes.

Lucerys takes a deep breath as she approaches. He sees the soft and curious expression on his mother, not saying anything. He gulps, looking down at the table, and reading it again.

Driftmark.

And so, he lets his ponderings out.

-The Sea Snake is going to die, isn't he?-. The blue-eyed boy asks from a moment to snother.

Rhaenyra raised her brows, sighing through her nose and caressing her belly. She knew this conversation would come.

-Luke...-, she names him softly. But he spoke again.

-I can't be Lord of the Tides-. He states, serious, and she pressed her lips, keeping silent-. Grandsire was the greatest sailor who ever lived! I get...greensick before the ship even leaves the harbor!-. Luke points, angry and ashamed, thinking of all the times Daera has worried herself for it, and spoken herself about it.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips into a very tiny smirk, passively listening to him, thoughtful. She knows how he feels, and so she's allowing him to vent.

-I'll just ruin everything!-. The boy assures with a heavy feeling on his chest-. I don't want Driftmark. It should've passed on to Ser Vaemond-. He points, knowing how mad his siblings and step-father would get just by hearing that statement, specially coming from him.

-We don't choose our destiny, Luke, it chooses us-. And his mother finally spoke, soft but serious, with a hand placed on her bulged belly.

-Grandsire let you choose wether you'd be his heir-. Lucerys immediately points, with fright growing on his crystal eyes-...You told us so-, his voice goes lower as he sees her sighing with some sort of distress.

Rhaenyra blinks and then nods with heaviness, letting her belly go as she looks down at the table, starting to walk. She thinks of her years of youth, when she was his age. When she was named The Heir to The Iron Throne.

-And...do you want to know the truth of it?-. She asks. Before that question, he looks at her with intense attention, slowly furrowing his sweaty nervous brows.

Luke blinks, seeing how she sides a nostalgic and sort of sad smirk, thoughtful for some seconds. He breathes deeply, still feeling the rush of the previous discussion running through his veins.

-I was frightened-. His mother confesed, as honest as one could be. He stares deeply at her, listening-. I was...four and ten, same as you are now-. She points, and he looks down for a second, taking the fact in. Then he looks at her again, now softer-. I wasn't ready to be Queen of The Seven Kingdoms-. Rhaenyra confesses, with not one drop of shame in her. Lucerys parts his lips, seeing the courage in her purple eyes-. But it was my duty-, she sighs-. And, in time, I came to understand I had to earn my inheritance-, Nyra shrugges, accepting her destiny.

The boy's eyes flickered, and he shook his head, letting go the tension on his shoulders.

There he knew. Rhaenyra and Daera, Luke's always defenders, are people of decision, of action and bravery. The reason they're always so protective and jealous of him, perhaps, is the simple fact that...

-I'm not like you...-, the boy states, looking down.

-In what way, sweet boy?-. She questions with dearness, looking at her self-conscious yet sweet, sweet son.

-I'm not so...-he looks around with nerves, and then he looks directly at her. In that moment, his blue eyes dyed with fear and contemplation, thinking of her, of his sister, of everyone but him-...perfect...-, Luke sighed that word.

Rhaenyra opened her eyes big, and then they flickered while her mouth melted into a surprised smile, sighing through them.

He's just a boy. He loves to play with his siblings, he doesn't step on insects, he misconcepts protection from others with uncapableness from himself, he loves his mother, he fears his future. He'll grow, but right now he's just a boy, truly. Their boy. Her boy.

The princess sighs and approaches to him, holding a side of his head to caress his cheek. At the same time, she caressed her forehead with his, smiling at him. Inevitably, Lucerys smirked for a second, calmed by her touch. And then, he felt three loving kisses on his brown hair.

Afterwards, his mother smirks at him, still caressing his cheek with her warm thumb.

-I am anything but-. Rhaenyra stated, looking at his eyes. Lucerys blinked with softness and, at the same time, they started to hear steps approaching by-. My father looked after me and helped to prepare me for my duties-, she recalls.

The boy cocks his head slowly, starting to feel really calm just by the sight of her.

-Your mother...-, she stresses, raising her brows-...will do the same for you-, she blinks softly, promising it to him.

Lucerys finally closes his lips, beginning to nod and smiling to her with trust and positivity, believing in her. Rhaenyra scrunches her nose, lovingly.

-Good morrow, princess-. A third voice meets the chamber, taking the two of them put of their privacy.

-Good morrow, Ser Lorent-. Rhaenyra turns around under the crystal gace of her middle son.

The knight nods, and proceeds to talk.

-Princess Rhaenys has just arrived on dragon back-. He informed, and in that moment Luke felt his chest pounding again, immediately thinking of Lord Corlys. Rhaenyra turns to look at him, giving a soft grasp on his hand-. She urgently requests an audience with you and prince Daemon-, he says.

Luke gulps, looking at her, fearing that his moment has come. She breathes in softly, smiling at him, and having no idea that, in reality, hers has instead.

■ ■ ■

Back to King's Landing, no bell is toiling, even though they are suppose to do so, at least a thousand times, the day a new King is crowned. A new King wears Aegon The Conqueror's crown on his head indeed, but then again...no bell toils.

The city is silent; its people almost hidden. The whorehouses are full, but silent, as well as the taverns. The prostitutes aren't moaning, and the drunk men are sipping quietly, with all of with all the hairs on their necks and arms standing up.

It is almost as if everybody is sad because of King Viserys's death. They are actually not. They couldn't care less. What they are is afraid of the recent coronation of his succesor, and what happened in it. All the terror, all the blood. That dragon.

The Dragonpit is halfly molished.

The monument still has a big cloud of dust around its surroundings, result of the fallen walls and floor. The bodies of the hundred slaughtered smallfolk still lie in different parts of the destroyed place. Lost eyes rest in the floor, lost heads as well. There is not one sould in the place, at least not human.

But in the skies about, a yellow beast flap its wings from up to down, flying above The Dragonpit. Sunfyre is this one. And, on his back, the new young king. Aegon II.

There are a bunch of dry tears on his pale cheeks. His hand are tightly held to his saddle, as his cold eyes wander about the place under. The bags under such eyes are dark and long, just as the trembling sighs that constantly come out of his dry mouth.

After Rhaenys and her dragon fled, Aegon The King climbed to the back of his own beast, and flew to the skies while yelling and comanding. As he took height, all of his sovereigns ran away in fear, while his family was scorted back to The Red Keep, where they'd be safe.

Aegon would look down to the ruins, and up to the clouds. He seemed thoughtful, but his mind is actually a blank canvas. He only thinks of The Red Queen, and how his mother stepped in front of him when the dragon's eyes went for him.

Sunfyre and his rider flew around The Dragonpit four times in a row, keeping the smallfolk away in their dark alleys, and the other royals tucked in their castle.

Afterwards, he came down, and a royal wheelhouse commanded by seven men was waiting for him. They all kneeled when he came down of his dragon, and called him "My King". Aegon didn't even blinked, walked inside the carriage, and puked three times while on the way to his home.

And, in his home, they were all waiting for The King.

The hall of The Iron Throne was as silent as the city outside. Today has been a silent day to King's Landing, to be honest. However, the room is not empty at all. In there are the people who await, and they all turned their heads when the gates of the hall were opened by the guards outside.

King Aegon II entered to the room. He parted his lips and opened his eyes big when he met all those eyes endlessly looking at him within the second of his arrival.

The Grand Maester Orwyle looked down. Lord Larys, Lord Wylde, Lord Lannister and Criston Cole looked at him with closed mouths. Otto Hightower, his grandsire, slowly raised his brows. Queen Alicent, his mother, plays with her fingers. And prince Aemond, his brother, pressed his arms that are crossed behind his back, opening his eye big when looking at him.

Aegon felt dizzy, extremely dizzy for a second. But, then, he glances at his mother, and he notices how anxiously she was staring at him. That made the king to clear his throat, to straighten his shoulders, and to begin his walk towards his seat.

The stares turned only greater when he started to walk towards The Iron Throne. Gulping, he looks at such chair with hidden fright, and nerves. Just days ago it was his father the one sitting in there, Viserys The Peaceful. Well, to be fair, just days ago he was wandring around in Flea Bottom. Viserys is dead, and now he is the one to sit.

How fast things change indeed.

Seconds later, Aegon's hands ended on the arms of The Iron Throne, and his body whole seated in it. He let out a hiss before the cold metal on his skin, surprised by it. The lords blinked, somewhat uncomfortable. Alicent parted her lips, briefly shaking her head. He gulped, looking at her, and blinked slowly, closing his mouth.

Standing besides his mother, closest to the stairs of the throne, Aemond clenches his nails on his own wrists, behind his back, looking at his brother on the fucking seat. The One-Eyed Prince, blinkless, breathes heavily through his pointy nose, feeling it damped.

The Small Council is gathered, at last.

All silent is ended when The Hand of King, Otto, spoke, finally taking off all those eyes from Aegon, which he internally thanked.

-We must not leave room to doubt that the princess Rhaenys, at this very moment, is on her way to Dragonstone-. He speaks with coldness and slowness, calculating. Alicent gulps when hearing so, and Aemond blinked, thinking of his wife's home-...your grace-, he turns around his head towards The King.

Aegon almost jumped, but instead he quickly gave a nod, grasping the arms of the throne for a second. He cleared his throat, again, and opens his mouth.

-Indeed-, he agrees. His voice came out as rasp, almost weak. His brother glances at him, from down, with no emotion, pressing his lips.

-It is just matter of a day, if not hours, for the princess Rhaenyra to hear word about the happenings of today-. Queen Alicent spoke with firmness, raising her brows. Her sons looked at her in silence.

-Yes-, her father immediately noded.

-But until that happens, my Queen, my Lord...-as Maester Orwyle speaks, he turns to look at Aegon-, and my King-, he nods, and the boy presses his lips-...we must attend hurrily to the matters that we already know about-. He says-. Such as treason-, his brows went up.

-If you excuse me, Your Grace, I have already taken action on the abouts of the Gold Cloaks-. Lord Larys came to speak with softness, resting his hands on his cane while he stares at Aegon, who listened with a puzzled face.

-Yes, the Gold Cloaks-. Otto quickly noded, while his daughter stared at the Lord Confessor with seriousness, noding-. See that they respond to their crimes, as they did to their loyalty to Daemon-. He almost spat the name, looking away-. And your services will also be of need regarding the Swore Knight of The King, Ser Erryk Cargyll-. Otto adds, and Aemond furrows his brows lightly, curious-. He hasn't make act of presence in the days of late, and it still remains a mistery how the princess Rhaenys found a way out of her chambers-. He pointed with seriousness.

The One-Eyed Prince opened his eye big, now understanding why that useless twat always gave him the worst of guts. A traitor he is, of course. And it will be of no surprise when they hear the twin chose black.

-Find him-, The Hand orders.

Larys nods, devoutly, closing his eyes, and letting out a crooked tiny smirk headed to the queen. At her side, Aemond stays blinkless, still thinking of Dragonstone.

-Ravens should already be on their way-. Lord Jasper Wylde, the Master of Law, quickly speaks, looking at everyone, but especially at Otto-. To Oldtown, Riverrun, Casterly Rock, Highgarden-, he counts, and the queen starts to nod.

-Indeed, Lord Wylde-. She agrees, thinking of some other lords and knights that she may find sympathetic to her son's cause. Aemond hums, lowly, gripping his cold fingers-. Maester Orwyle, send word to every house that spoke for my husband, Viserys, in the Great Council of 101-. The Queen ordered, and his subject immediately noded.

-We are...going to war, then-. Tyland speaks with slowness, taking the fact in as he looks around.

-We are at war, Lord Lannister-. Aemond spoke for the first time, firmly and loudly, msking the lion's ears to ring. Aegon looks at his brother, how tense his jaw is. Alicent plays with her fingers, thoughtful.

-Indeed-. Otto supports his youngest grandson. This one blinks, and then looks down at the floor, thinking of Daera. His chest hurted-. The princess will have the Sea Snake and his fleet, no doubt, and like as not the other lords of the eastern shores will join her as well-, he points.

Aegon blinks, immediately looking back at Lord Wylde when he speaks again.

-Lords Bar Emmon, Celtigar, Massey and Crabb, most likely-. He calculates.

-Perhaps also the Evenstar of Tarth-. Alicent pointed, raising her brows-. But these are lesser powers, we must confess-. She sighs, crossing her hands over her belly-. The North is of concern-, she fears.

-Indeed-. Otto quickly nods-. Winterfell had spoken for princess Rhaenys, back in Harrenhal, as well as Lord Stark's bannermen, Dustin of Barrowton and Manderly of White Harbour-, he recalls.

-Nor could House Arryn be relied upon-. Lord Wylde points, taking a step foward-. The Eyrie is ruled by a woman nowdays, Ladye Jeyne, The Lady of The Vale-. The lord says.

-Her own rights might be put into questions should princess Rhaenyra be put aside-, Maester Orwyle agrees, as everyone else did.

-We'll proceed to-, Alicent starts to speak.

-We-, Aegon and her mother spoke at the same time.

But, as it was The King's first time actually speaking in the session, everyone hushed and instantly turned to look at him, almost harshly. He clears his throat, and moves a little on the chair.

-...We were already attacked by a dragon-. He says, recalling the terrorism in The Dragonpit-. We cannot stand and discuss about ravens and wait for another attack-. The King points, almost nervously, as if he wasn't sure of his own words.

-The King is right-. The Lord Commander of The Kingsguard, Criston Cole, agreed, glancing at his pupil-. We must shield the city-, he nods. Otto sides a tiny smirk.

-Then the manier the shields, the better-. Alicent nods-. Maester Orwyle-, she calls, and he attends to her-. See that the first raven sent be delivered to Oldtown, and make sure to ask the presence of prince Daeron at court, immediately-. The Queen ordered with her brows up-, and his dragon-. She added.

-My Queen-, Orwyle nod, adding another task to his list.

-I will patrol the skies, with Vhagar-. Prince Aemond spoke, decided, almost turning around. His mother opened her mouth, almost talking.

-You will not-. Otto was the one who spoke, making the one-eyed to halt, silent. Aegon eyes his family, silent too-. Your sister, Helaena, will see to that matter, in her own dragon-. He decided. Aemond furrowed his brows, and Alicent immediately gasped, not liking the idea of either of her children up there in the dangerous skies.

-Father-, she planned to object.

-The prince Aemond has another mission-. The Hand of The King stated, firmly. Aemond blinks, quite confused, sharing an unconscious glance with his brother, who pressed his lips from the Iron Throne.

-As these are matters of war, my lords, I must, at once, seize the royal treasury-. Lord Lannister, as Master of Coin, spoke. The Hand nods towards him, agreeing on the fact.

The Crown's gold would be divided into four parts. One part will be entrusted to the care of The Iron Back of Braavos for safekeeping, another will be send under strong guard to Casterly Rock, and a third part to Oldtown. The remaining wealth will be used for bribes and gifts, and to buy sellswords if needed.

Queen Alicent turns her head to look at her oldest son, whose eyes immediately met her. On his iron seat, Aegon flinches when reading her face. He clears his throat, making himself heard once again.

-The terms we agreed upon to Dragonstone shall be delivered today. Immediately, before she takes action for herself-. The King informs, being listened by all of his council. Aemond makes a pout with his lips, serious-. Ready the ship at once, and you, grandsire, will take the word to my half sister-. He orders, looking at him. Alicent nods in silence, sighing.

Otto stares back at him with curved lips, starting to nod with severe slowness. He eyes his daughter, and then back at his grandson.

-It will be my pleasure to take the task, your grace-. The Hand agrees. Aegon closes his lips, and nods. His back has never touched the throne.

-I wish to know about my task, if I may-. Aemond speaks, coldly, looking only at his family, and ignoring the lords-. What is my mission?-, he asks, firm.

Aegon, in a low voice, stutters, not knowing what the fuck was Aemond supposed to do. But, knowing it himself, Otto answered the question.

-Another worry of ours, a great one, is Storm's End-. The Hand says-. House Baratheon had always been staunch in support of the claims of princess Rhaenys-, he points, lightly raising his brows.

-Lord Boremund was that support of hers, and he's now dead-. Tyland recalls with nearly a scoff, raising a finger.

-And his son, Lord Borros, is even more belligerent than his deceased father-. Otto answered, calculating-. The lesser storm lords will surely follow wherever he leads them to-. He points, calmly nodding. Aemond blinks woth curiosity, still not understanding his part.

-Then we must see that he leads them to our king-, Queen Alicent declared. Aegon gulped, looking at her with crystal eyes, admiring her devotion to him.

-He has four daughters, all of then unmarried-. The Hand informs, and then his eyes travel towards the one-eyed one, whose heart stopped in that second-, as well as The King's brother-. He points.

An image flashes in front of Aemond's mind. He sees his wedding.

Aemond furrowed his lips with a smile of calmness and pride, not blinking, and just looking at her. Daera smiled with her lips closed, feeling her cheeks burn as she watches at his eye endlessly, finding so much warmth in it.

Aemond freezes, not showing even one single emotion. Aegon blinks, thoughtful, looking at him from head to toe. His brother looks so tense.

-I understand-. The One-Eyed Prince nods.

Aegon listen to his words agreeing, but sees his body frozen up with terror. The King encloses his eyes, remembering some nights ago, at the family dinner, the odd behavior he noticed from his brother, and their bitch of a cousin.

Otto nodes in silence, knowing this was no time to speak deeper about his grandson's mission.

-Well, then, time is of the essence-. Alicent speak with quickness-. My king-, she turns to look at him, and he nearly flinches, fading away his taunt eyes from his brother.

-Um, indeed-. Aegon nods-. You may all go, and fulfill the work you have been given-. He orders, forbidding his voice to tremble when seeing all of them looking at him, but Aemond.

Nobody wasted a holy second. The whole council turned around and quickly walked out of the room, as quickly as the threat of war should make them walk.

Aemond as well turned around, and started to walk long steps with his long legs, planning to follow his grandfather, but a voice stopped him.

-Brother-, The King's voice echoed in the hall.

The One-Eyed Prince stopped, clenching his arms behind his back. Slowly, he turns around again, and the image that he saw disgusted him entirely. Aegon, in The Iron Throne, cockily staring at him. They are alone now.

-Come-, the older brother commands.

Aemond walks back the steps he had taken before. As he walks, his mind goes deep into the thought of his mission. He is to marry. He is to marry another woman. The last time he saw his wife she looked at him with madness and dissappointment. How will she look at him, the next time, when she knows he has placed his brother on the throne, and has taken another woman as wife?

The next time he blinks, Aemond finds himself standing right in front the throne. He didn't realize he walked the stairs up as well. But here he is now, face to face with his brother, staring at him from his tall height.

The King, quietly, curves his lips into a tiny smirk, noticing that his brother's eye stared, for a quick second, at his head.

-Does the crown fits me good, brother?-. Aegon asks, making echo in the hall.

Aemond crosses his arms harder behind his back. He felt his shoulders pain, but did not care enough to change his harsh posture. He presses his lips, staring at the Crown of The Conqueror once again, now with no disimulation.

-You can see that it weighs-. That's the answer of the one-eyed, spoken with coldness and, if he's not mistaken, taunt.

Aegon's eyes shine for a second, a tired and burlesque bright on his face. He sighs through his nose, and nods.

-Its lighter than it seems, if you wear it right-. He says, and Aemond fighted himself to not roll his eye. He's been wearing the fucking crown barely for some hours-. Do you want to marry the Baratheon girl, brother?-. Aegon's question caught him off guard, causing him to furrow his brows for a quick second.

-There is no a concrete girl in question yet. There are four-. Aemond answered, emotionless. Aegon hums and scoffs, noding.

-True, that is true-. He mumbles-. But, out of the four, would you like to pick one of them, or one...closer to the family?-, Aegon asks, half-closing his eyes with fake interest.

In that moment, Aemond goes mute. He opens his eye big, and stares deeply at him, frozen. He didn't have the guts to answer at that moment, fearing that that question had the double meaning he thinks it has.

What...what does Aegon know?

-You must tell me the truth, brother-. Aegon sighs, shrugging. Aemond gulps, not blinking once-. I am your King-, he smiles, lifting the dark bags under his shiny eyes-, and...and Daera's a bitch-. Aegon spoke with total poison, and taunt.

Aemond breathes harshly with his nose, feeling how his chest stopped pounding for some moments. He almost let panick get hold of himself, but didn't allow it to happen. No, he can't risk it. He can't tremble before one single and indirect accusation of loving their forbidden cousin.

He's far more smart than The King, the gods save him. And so his chest pounds again when he finds the right answer.

-I want to marry whoever girl stands in our side, brother-. The one-eyed states, serious and cold. Aegon slowly ereases his smirk, cocking his head to a side-, wether if she's a bitch or not-. He mumbled with disinterest.

Aegon smiles again, only to chuckle tiredly and scarce fun. He looks at his brother gulping, having no emotion on his long scarred half-moon shaped face.

-Oh good good...-The King sighs, smiling at him. Aemond looks down at him, coldly-. She doesn't deserve you, the bitch-, he whispered so low, shaking his head.

Aemond blinks, nods towards him with his head, and then turns around, walking down the stairs. He does not hears another word or sound from his brother, perhaps because of the ringing that started on his ears.

The One-Eyed Prince walks rigidly and straight, with his fists at the sides of his body, and a sour taste arriving to his tongue.

The taste of fear.

■ ■ ■

After having spoken with his mother, Lucerys had gone to the beach along his older brother, Jacaerys, for they were to train the sword, as they always do.

-Ugh!-, the younger grunts when the older got to him, and sent his sword flying to the air, defeating him.

-You are distracted-. Jace accused, breathing fast while walking around him, pointing at him with his sword.

-I'm not, you are just too fast!-, Luke tsks, bending down to take back his training weapon. Jacaerys sniffs his sweaty nose, staring at him.

Dragonstone is calm, at least for now. The beach where they train is fresh and clear, perfect for their training. As always, they are being watched by their instructor, Ser Havos.

Jace sniffs his nose again, seeing Luke sighing with distress as he takes position again.

-You have to apologize to Daera-. The older brother speaks from a moment to another, serious, looking away.

The younger blinks, listening. Then he scrunches his nose, and nods, looking at the white clean sand.

In another part of the island, inside its castle, Baela is gathered with a group of ladies, all of them delicately and silently sewing.

The princess, however, got a little distracted when a servant of the kitchen crossed the hall she was in. A boy of Daera's age whose name is Mendos.

As he crosses the room, they shared looks. She immediately smile, sucking on her cheeks. The man went breathless, almost tripping on. Baela laughed, looking away, and he chuckled, keeping his path.

In one of the many countless rooms of the castle, Rhaena was on her own, but not by her own. The youngest princess of the realm was seated by her chimney, with the sweet company of her brother, Joffrey.

Both princes are silent and quiet, as they watch the girl's dragon egg placed in the fire. The future hatchling, beautifully pink and golden, takes the heat of the bonfire with total rest and comfortness. We do know that dragons love heat.

And, lastly, in another one of the royal family's chambers, the oldest princess is also in the company of two of Rhaenyra's sons. They are also quiet, and silent.

The babes, Aegon and Viserys, breath calmly in their cradles. Their sister, princess Daera, rocked them to sleep, not many minutes ago. And, since they fell asleep, she attended to the matters of her trip.

Remember, she'll be leaving to King's Landing in a few hours now, with Rhaenyra.

In the princess's bed lies an open bag filled of her clother and personal objects, such as jewerly and fresh soaps of eucalypt. The bag is merely full by the half, not entirely and, in fact, is already ready.

Daera doesn't often takes a lot of luggage with her, for she is an usual visitor at The Red Keep, hence why her wardrobe in there is always already full of other belongings of her. She never takes much, for her room always awaits for her.

Daera stares at her bag, standing in front of her bed in total silence. While she does so, she touches her right thigh above of her dress. She feels the bealt strapped to her leg, as alwaus. Aemond's bealt.

The princess thinks of her husband, the secret one, and gulps while doing so. It is only a matter of hours to be back at the capital, and to see him again, after their monstrous argument on Lovers Island. How will it be?, she can't help but wonder, their reunion.

Is he still mad?, Daera wonders. No, he does not posses the right to that. Well then, with that logic, neither do I. She tsks. Ow it doesn't even matters if he is still angry! He'll have to deal with it, as he always do, and speak with her! Its mandatory, between them.

We have never lasted long upset with each other. And, as hopeful as ever, Daera hopes this is not the exception. They need to see each other, and talk. But alas, what does Daera truly knows? What does her, indeed.

Daera blinks slowly, looking at her bag. Her purple eyes come alive in a light glim, and then a tiny smile curves into her lips. Her chest, for some seconds, beated with hope, silently nodding to herself.

The doors of her chambers are quickly opened, all of a sudden, making her to rapidly turn her head around, a little surprise.

-What the...?-, a curse almost left her lips, but then she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw who came in to her chambers-. Fuck, grandma!-. She still cursed, but out of happiness, immediately smiling.

Princess Rhaenys stands in front her. She wears an armour, a riding one, and a weary face. Her fist are nervously tighted at the sides of her body, while her eyes look at her with...what was that feeling?

-What- what are you doing here? When did you arrive?!-. Daera chuckles in a low voice, approaching to her.

-Daera...-, a breath left her lips.

-Oh, lowly, the kids are sleeping-. She whispers, raising her brows and cocking her head towards the craddles. At the same time, she takes her hands in hers, gripping them.

-Dae-Daera...-. Rhaenys stutters, looking down for a second, and blinking with quickness. Her granddaughter furrows her brows a little, growing confused.

-Grandma, is everything alright?-. She asks, tilting her head-. I sense you...weird. Correct me if I'm mistaken-, the princess mumbles.

The Lady of Driftmark closed her eyes strongly, gripping her hands tighter, and lovelier. Rhaenys feels her heart beating with total distress and fear, not understanding why she suddenly isn't able to utter a singke word. Well, perhaps she does understand.

-You...you come from King's Landing-. Daera deducts within a thin whisper.

Rhaenys opens her eyes big, staring at her. The younger princess gulps, slowly reaching her bed, and sitting on it, in silence.

-Daera-, she whispers.

-Do you know what happened, then?-. Daera questions, taking a deep breath in. Rhaenys stands quietly, blinkless, not understanding the child-. Did Helaena told you? I sincerely doubt Aemond had-, she scoffs, nearly rolling her eyes.

The Queen Who Never Was presses her lips, noticing that her granddaughter is mistaking subjects. Tragically.

There's no time for misunderstandings, Rhaenys thinks to herself.

-I am almost heading back to King's Landing-. Daera informs, raising her brows.

-And that is where I come from-. Her grandmother quickly nods, approaching to the bed.

-Yes, yes I know-. She sighs, playing with her finger.

This is very last moment we are to see princess Daera as we have known her. Here, now, in these moments, everything is about to change for her. And for us.

-Something bad happened, child-. Rhaenys spoke, nearly with a trembling voice, cold.

Daera starts to furrow her brows, instantly growing scared. She immediately fears for her loved ones in The Red Keep. Is Helaena fine? Did something happened to Viserys? Is it about Aem-

-The King is dead-. Rhaenys declared, not holding herself anymore.

Daera's whole body got frozen up in that moment. Her jaw tremble, and her shoulders fell to the height of her breasts. She emits a sound, but not a word, shocked.

-I was locked in my rooms, by The Greens and- and they- they asked me to declare for Aegon, as Viserys' rightful heir-. Rhaenys spits fact after fact, recognizing that there is no time, not even to mourn. Daera gags, feeling how her chest was growing everytime heavier-. Aegon was crowned this morning-, she says.

Daera gagged again, grabbing herself to the canopy of her bed. Air left her, as well as any sign of calm and quietness. She breathes fast, arching her eyebrows, sensing tears coming up to her eyes.

-Grandma!-, the child whispers shakily, looking up at her. Rhaenys gulps, almost crying as well.

It's changing. Everything is changing.

-He was crowned in The Dragonpit-. Rhaenys says, and her granddaughter grunts, shaking her head-, in front of everyone-, she raises her brows.

-And Aemond?-. Daera roars and cries her question, naming him with despair, feeling how the world is coming down on her shoulders.

-Didn't even bother to see me while I was their prisioner-. She quickly answered, firmly, standing in front of the bed. Daera breathes deeply in, not blinking once, shaking her head and looking for air-. He was standing right besides your other cousin, as they watched the coronation-. She tells.

-No-, Daera roars, shaking her head stopless, from side to side-. No, no, no-. She breathes fastly and deeply, still feeling airless.

-Daera-. Rhaenys closes her fists, worried.

Daera wants to scream, loudly, and accuse her of liar. But her grandma is no liar, not to her. And so that only means one thing. That this is true. That this...is all...really happening.

-Fuck-. The princess sighs, trembling. She didn't give herself a single chance to think of herself, to worry about her own feelings. There's something more important right now-. Rhaenyra, father. We must- we must tell them, right away!-. She yells, quickly standing up from her bed. Her legs shook.

-I already did-, Rhaenys quickly spoke. When she said that, she almost looked ashamed, and embarrassed, as if something that she doesn't know about is happening right as they speak.

-What?-, Daera stumbles for a quick second, looking at her. Rhaenys gulps, looking down. Daera breathes fastly, shaking her head.

And within a second, The Rogue Princess shot out running from her room at the speed of lighting. Rhaenys gasped and almost followed her, but the starting of two cryings made her to turn her head.

Viserys and Aegon woke up, feeling strange and scared.

Daera doesn't mind about her trembling legs, and she runs as fast as she can. At first she didn't know what she was running from or to, but then a yelling is heard all along the castle. A yell of pain, of a woman, that of a woman in pain.

-Oh!-, her legs tremble even more when she recognized that voice-. Nyra-, a voiceless breath left her empty lungs.

Rhaena and Joffrey turned their head around when they hear quick steps running outside the room, passing in less than three seconds. Afterwards, they glance at each other, confused.

Daera breathes in and out, in and out, in and out as she runs across all the castle, having one place in mind. And soon, she reached the entry to Rhaenyra's chambers. There are no guards in the outsides. Where the fuck are they?! She's screaming!

-Ah!-, she grunts as she still runs closer. And then she gasped when seeing her brothers coming out together of the room, as tense as rocks-. Boys!-, Daera gasps.

-Dae-Daera!-, Lucerys did the same, opening his eyes big when he saw her.

-Jace-, she sighs, reaching them at last.

-Go with mother, go!-. He raises his brows and holds her shoulders, barely stopping his walk.

-You with father!-. She didn't stop either, quickly nodding. Luke breathes fast, looking at her.

-Daera-, he whispers.

-I'm on it!-, Jacaerys nods, walking away.

-Go!-, she goes into the room.

-Daera!-. Lucerys calls, but she didn't even look at him, too hurried in entering the chambers.

Daera runs into the room, finding a bone-chilling scene that made her body to freeze right in the doors.

Rhaenyra, bent over and in lesser clothes, her hair all sweaty and disheveled, roars and cries in pain and despair, as if she were lit in the hottest of fires.

Lines of blood has damped her white dress, coming from the middle of her legs, from her sex. Daera breathes fast, realizing what is happening in front of her scared eyes.

-Daemon!-, Rhaenyra cries, desperately.

Rhaenyra is but six months in her pregnancy.

-Fucks!-. Daera gasps, not waiting another second to enter completely, heading to her.

This is not supposed to be happening.

-Ahh!-, the oldest princess grunts, briefly raising her teary sight when hearing her. Her sobs stopped for a second-. Leave...-, she whispers, breathless, curving her brows.

She needs help.

-Ow!-. The girl sorrows, fastly approaching to grabb her hands, helping her to balance.

And yet, she's keeping everyone away from her. The midwives, the maester.

-A-au!-. Daera afflicts her throat when, all of a sudden, Rhaenyra's nails became as fierce as her screams, and they started to get buried on her wrists and shoulders, hurting her.

-Oh, ah!-. Rhaenyra cries in agony, barely being able to stand-. Leave, leave!-. She yells, broken.

Because she remembers that woman who, when having seripus troubles at giving birth, was cut right in a half by said midwives and maesters. Her mother. Aemma.

-Come- come on, come on, we can do this! Just as last time!-. Daera's broken voice tries to lift her spirits up, but no spirit is being lifted besides that of depair.

Caraxes screeches from the distance, hurting their ears.

-Fuck! Fuck, fuck!-. Rhaenyra curses and yells, almost falling on her knees and burying even deeper her nails into the girl's skin, making her recent scars to bleed.

-We can do this, we can do this!-. Daera trembles as she speaks, seeing all the blood that keeps tearing from her white dress, damping their feet.

-No no no no!-. Rhaenyra yells, wanting to step away, but her girl didn't let her-. GET OFF!-, she roars, gone to madness and pain.

-Nyra, Nyra!-. No other word comes from her mouth, too shocked to keep speaking as her step-mother is agonizing right into her arms. Daera breathes fast, thinking of Laena, that damn fear-. You- you can!-. She cries, feeling them sharp nails hurting her endlessly.

In the middle of a scream, Rhaenyra fell to her knees, taking Daera with her. Both of them end in the wet floor, where their sweat and blood dirtied their clothes. Rhaenyra let go of her arms, only to grasp the wood of her bed, almost breaking it.

Daera stutters, time after time, being muted by the princess's loud screams and cryings of pain. She breathes fastly, feeling tears gathering on her eyes as she, desperate, places her hands on the floor, gagging.

-Everythinv'll be fine-, she whispers, voiceless.

Rhaenyra screams, hopeless, wildly. Syrax is heard screaming too. Daera flinches, curving her brows, going to hold one of her hands again.

-Princess, let us help you-. A weak plead comes from one of the midwives, but in vain.

Daera sobs with no steop as Rhaenyra almost breaks her hand, gripping it so hard while crying and yelling, sweating and tearing up, always eye-closed, feeling the worst physical pain of her life, almost wishing to die instead, right at this moment.

-Please, please!-. Daera cries, weakly, but trying to keep strong, for her, for the babe-. You can!-, she sobs.

-MONSTER, MONSTER, GET OUT! AHHH!!-. Rhaenyra roars as a dragon itself, making Daera to flinch, having forgotten the pain on her scars-. Get out, get out, GET OUT!-

-Princess, please!-. The younger midwife begs, staring at the both of them. Daera looks at them with despair, breathless, so afraid and with no idea of what to do-. Let us help you!-, she begs, heartbroken.

-Let them help you!!-. Daera begged with a broken voice, screaming almost as loudly as her.

-AHH!-, Rhaenyra ignores them all, lost in her own pain and despair. She gags, with no breath, tasting the sweat on her lips.

And then her water broke, so late, from a moment to another, bringing a river of blood.

Daera flinched, and not a muscle from her moved afterwards. She stays frozen, looking down, having no breath. Everyone went silent.

-GOD!!-, Rhaenyra grunts with all the rage of despair, looking down at the bloody floor, entering a hand under her dress, and pushing with all of her strength-. AH! AH- AJ!-, she howls and shrieks, grabbing something.

A head.

Daera lungs went empty. Her body stopped perceiving any pain, or sense at all. Her eyes got loose, fixated on the image of Rhaenyra pushing out of her body another body.

A small creature slid from the princess's interior to the floor full of blood, falling dead. Only flesh colliding with blood was heard.

The midwives stepped back, wordless.

Rhaenyra's screams were gone, all of a sudden. She gags, breathing heavily, staring down at the thing that just came out of her.

Daera's lips start to tremble, fastly, while her eyes gather a sea of salty tears that started to fall down in total silence. Her breathing is quick, and yet makes no sound. Her heart is teared from her, as well as Rhaenyra's babe from her.

There was no sound, no crying. No life.

The wind blows into the room, drying the sweat in everyone's face. Nobody felt it, though.

Rhaenyra's hands grabbed her stillborn girl. A girl. She...she had a girl. Almost did. Her trembling lips close as she starts to rock the babe, closing her eyes, and imagining she was hearing a cry.

The princess Daera remains frozen, staring at the scene. Her lips are dry and her cheeks are wet, as well as her eyes. Lonely tears were falling from her gace as she, word-less, looks at the death deformed babe whose head rocks weakly from side to side, almost hanging of its body.

Rhaenyra rocks the babe, back and foward, lovingly, lost in her agony, still not taking it all in. She hears only sobs from the midwives, also feeling how some of the girl's tears reached her feet. Rhaenyra presses her lips, hugging the death one.

■ ■ ■

Princce Aemond dressed himself in, as usual, clothes that are completely and wholy black. His jacket is, his patch as well, his boots are, his belt is, and his coat is too. Too much black for a green, perhaps, but the boy knows his meanings, and perhaps that is enough of what we should know of his dressing choices.

The One-Eyed Prince is at his chambers, by himself, standing alone in the middle of it. He stares at his own reflection, in a mirror hanged in one of the walls. He has bags under his purple eyes, and no humidity on his white lips. His hair, though, is flawless, as...always.

That moment with Aegon, in The Iron Throne's hall, keeps wandering around his head. But honestly, at these times, what doesn't? Everything has been happening too fast. At one second he's wondering wether if his brother suspects that he's been having an affair with their cousin, and at the next second he ask himself what is Daera doing at the moment, wether if she already knows of these times's happenings or not. If not, how long until she does so? How long until everything changes? This time for real.

The prince blinks, silently, pouting his lips, and looking down at his black boots. Then he looks at the floor, having a memory of it. Nearly for a second, he saw Daera lying in there, smiling to him from down, sweetly.

The doors of his chambers are opened, making that memory to blur away, and him to quickly lift his head, seeing the ones who entered. His grandfather, The Hand, and his mother, The Queen.

While Otto walks towards his grandson, Alicent walked herself to the chimney, keeping distance with them. Her hands are crossed over her belly, and her lips are nervously pressed. She looks thoughtful.

-You look ready, my prince-. The Hand speaks, proud as always, looking at him from feet to toe. Aemond blinks one time, examining him as well.

-So do you, grandpa-. He says, crossing his hands behind his back.

Otto Hightower has been given a mission, as we remember. He is to go to Dragonstone and to deliver terms to the princess Rhaenyra, terms which intentions are to avoid the worst invention of mankind: war. And to keep the realm at peace. That is only if she accepts them, of course; the terms alone achieve nothing by themselves.

And, as it happens to be, prince Aemond has a mission too. The Small Council decided that they are to treat with Lord Borros Baratheon. Queen Alicent declared that they must make sure to guide him through the right path, one that leads to Aegon's kingship's prevalency. Whereupon, she'll sent her second son.

-Your purpose is to win the hand of one of Lord Baratheon's daughters-. His grandsire, Otto, told him. Aemond hears him with a quiet expression, attentive, almost tense. Standing close the fire, Alicent eyes them both, placing a nervous hand on her chest-. Any of the four will do-, he assures.

The prince hums, blinkless. He thinks of his wife, his true wife. He really is entrusted to marry a woman that he doesn't know, much less love, or even have a small interest for. He does not. He wishes to remain with only one bride, one of purple eyes, brown skin and white curls. One he does knows, and loves.

But, alas, what is he supposed to do, for the gods' sake? This is his family, his side, and he must fight for it, no matter what it costs, no matter how much it hurts.

-Woo her and wed her, and Lord Borros will deliver the stormlands for your brother-. Otto says with a tiny twisted smiled, raising his old brows and looking at his only eye. Aemond blinks one time, slowly nodding. The Hand breathes in, fading that smile away-...Fail, and-

-I will not fail-. Prince Aemond blustered with his smooth voice. From the distance, Alicent gulps, listening to her boy-. Aegon will have Storm's End, and I will have this girl-. He declares, firmly.

That made Sir Otto to smirk lightly. He does not say one more word, and turns around. He eyes his daughter, who did not look back at him, and then he left, closing the door behind him, and departing to Dragonstone at once.

Aemond blinks, looking down again.

Playing with her closed fists, Alicent sighs, and walks to him. Seconds after, the prince feels a hand on his nape and another on his back. Afterwards, he found his mother pushing him to hug him to her body. He sighed at the moment of feeling her warmth.

The one-eyed blinks slowly, looking at her red curls, which are skimming his long nose. Seconds then, Alicent looks back at him, sweetly gripping both his arms, and staring at his eye.

-Ready then?-. She murmurs.

-Yes-, he whispered. Alicent pressed her lips, almost nervous, nodding in silence. He breathes in, looking at her-. As much as I am willing to perform my duty, I must confess to you: a part of me wishes to stay-. The prince admits. She furrows her brows, lightly confused-. Here. With you, Helaena, and the children, mother-. Aemond mutters, somewhat worried.

The Queen blinks a few times, opening her lips, and sighing heavily, nearly lifting a side of her mouth to smile. He does not find it funny, though.

-I feared for your lives this morning, mom-. Aemond confesses with a low tone, recalling how she was literally face to face to The Red Queen, Meleys. He placed an arm in front of Helaena, but to what end? They would all have burned.

-Worry not, my sweet summer child-. The Queen whispers, softly, caressing his arms as she smiles tinyly. Aemond was about to refute-. Word has already been sent to Daeron. He'll be soon on his way here-, she raised her brows-. We'll have his dragon, and Aegon's, and Helaena's-. She conforted him, so sure that he was almost starting to feel calm. Truth be told, she was ten times more worried than him, but only on her grave she would let her son know it-...We shall be save, Aemond-. She assured him.

The prince blinks, humming lowly, raising his hands to caress his mother's shoulders. Softly, she scrunches her nose into a brief laugh, and then she tip-toed to reach his face, kissing both of his cheeks, blessing him, and wishing him luck.

In this moment, we are very proud to attest that prince Aemond, afterwards, chuckled. He smiled towards his mom.

Alicent looked at her son with love and trust, feeling in her heart that, whatever he does in the stormlands, will be perfect. As always.

And thus, it was not a raven who took flight to Storm's End that day, but Vhagar, oldest and largest of the dragons of Westeros, as we well know. On her back rode Prince Aemond Targaryen, with a sapphire in the place of his missing eye.

But, before that, Aemond found himself opening the doors to Helaena's chambers. He was all ready to go, until a guard came looking for him in her name, summoning him to her apartments. And here he is now.

-Sister?-, the prince calls.

Helaena turned her head around. In her arms, hugged to her chest, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera sleep with deepness. At the moment of seeing her brother, she filled her chest with air, and quickly stood up.

-Let me help you-. Fastly, Aemond went to her help. He carried the boy in his arms, walking towards the craddles. Following him, with the girl on her arms, Helaena blinkled while looking at his back, quietly-. You...you called for me, did you not?-. He asks with a low tone, carefully placing Jaehaerys on his craddle.

-I did, yes-. Helaena answers, doing the same with Jaehaera, pressing a little smile while looking at her children-. I am to go with Dreamfyre, in a moment, but...I wanted to see you off first-, she confesses, looking back at him.

Slowly, Aemond looks at her too, briefly curving his brows when seeing a strange kind of worriness on his sister's clear gace. He clears his throat, nodding.

-Do not think I would have left without saying goodbye-. He murmurs, honest. That made her to grin for a quick second, sucking her inferior lip to the insides of her mouth-. I'll be back from Storm's End in matter of no time-, he says.

Helaena blinks slowly, sighing through her nose, and walking away from the cradles. After a quick check to the babes, Aemond follows her, walking behind his sister.

-If you are to wed this...girl from the storms, then...-Helaena turns around with slowness, facing him. He stops walking, pressing his lips, almost knowing what she was about to ask-...then what will happen with Daera?-, she questions, cocking her head.

Aemond sighed longly, nearly closing his eye, but he rapidly shook his head, keeping his posture.

-These are hard times, dear sister-. The prince speaks under a curious and worried gace of hers-. Daera is married to another person as well, so actually my acts will not be so significantly rebelious to our marriage, nor to my cause at all-. He raises his brows.

-But...-, she sighs, having no word to speak.

-And, to be fair, me marrying someone else will surely surely be the least of our problems, the least of all of our problems-. The prince stresses, raising his brows towards her-. There are more...concerning matters-, he gulps, fearing the threat of war.

Helaena looks down, pressing her lips. She starts to shake her head from side to side, furrowing her brows.

-This should not be happening-. She denies, making her brother to cock his head, surprised-. She should be Queen-. Helaena whispers her words with firmness and frustration, scrunching her nose.

-Helaena!-. Aemond quickly scolds, walking closer to her. She stands her ground, curving her lips down while looking at him-. Must I remind you what Daera's family were to do to us if we wouldn't fight back?-, he hisses-. Must I recall you that we're doing what we're doing in the name of our lives and our prevalency, of your children's?-. He asks, almost angry.

-Our sister would never mess with none of the both-, the princess shakes her head.

-She took my eye, mercilessly-. The one-eyed stressed with a low voice, calmed yet serious. In that moment, Helaena kept silence, gulping, and glancing at her sleeping children. She curved her brows, gulping again.

After that, she remained silent. What she did next was to step closer to him, and grant him a soft and warm hug. Aemond closed his lips, blinking bigly.

They rarely hug each other, to be honest.

The One-Eyed Prince let his guard off, and he sighed through his nose, closing his eyes, and hugging back the sweet innocent sister of hers. They kept whole silence, only feeling the other's grip and heartbeat.

Aemond took that moment to rest, placing his chin on her head, and breathing calmly. Helaena, on the other hand, remained with her worried eyes opened, and tears started to climb up to them. She was hugging him harder, almost as if she didn't want him to leave at all; perhaps she doesn't. The princess sniffs her nose, and listen to his heart on her ear, almost hearing a grieving song written by its beats. He's sad.

-Goodbye, brother...-. She whispered. For she knows, in some strange way, that the man that will return from Storm's End will not be his brother. At least not one the same as this.

■ ■ ■

On Dragonstone, screams echoed through the halls and stairwells of Sea Dragon Tower, down from the queen's apartments where Rhanyra Targaryen strained and shuddered in the most difficult labor of her life. Her last, though she does not know it yet.

Prince Daemon walks through the beach, alone, grabbing the handle of his sheathed sword, Dark Sister. He goes forward, with his eyes lost in the sand, his steps slow and, it surprises us to say, weak.

The child had not been due for another three more turns of the moon, but the tidings from King's Landing, delivered by princess Rhaenys herself, had driven The Heir into a black fury, and her rage seemed to bring on the birth, as if the babe inside her were angry too, and fighting to get out.

The Silent Sisters watch how their work is being done by the princess Rhaenyra, who still boils in her own sweat and blood. Her hands are full out it. This is mainly because she herself is the one wrapping the corpse of her child. Her lips tremble as she weakly wraps the silk around his deformed head. Her tiny feet, her non-existent eyes, her non-beating heart...

The princess shrieked curses all through her labor, agonizing, not having the strength to call down the wrath of the gods upon her half-brothers and their mother, the queen, her childhood companion. The maester and midwives of her could do nothing, and neither could her oldest step-daughter, princess Daera, who could only grab her hands and accept the violent scratches she unconciously gave her.

Daemon Targaryen has just lost his second child. His second daughter, and he wasn't even present. But, to be fair...how could he? When Laena Velaryon, his dear, couldn't make it through her last birth, all the surgeon did was to ask him to give the veredict, to decide wether his child would live or not, because his wife was definetely not going to. As Rhaenyra began her labour, he went away, as away as possible from her. He started to plot war, to send ravens, to pretend to not hear her. In that way, no maester came to him to ask him what cannot be answered.

Rhaenyra cursed the child inside her too. She yelled, claring at her swollen belly as Maester Gerardys and the midwives tried to restraing her and shouting "Monster, monster, get out, get out, GET OUT!"

Rhaenyra couldn't hold herself any longer, and she fell right on her knees in the cold floor, hugging the body's litte wrapped legs. She trembles and sobs with her eyes closed. The princess cries with no end, shaking her head. She cries for her babe, for her father, for her husband, for their children, for the future.

When the babe at last came forth, she proved indeed a monster: a stillborn girl, twisted and malformed, with holes in her eyes' socket and what appear to be a stubby, scaled tail. Rhaenyra carried the little thing herself to the yard, for the burning, but we're still not there.

Princess Daera's dress is dirty with her step-mother's blood, but little does she know, nor care. The strong breeze of the mountains blows her sweated hair as she walks up with trembling and longs steps. She goes with her throat afflicted and her eyes tearing. The princess cries and limps as a sick woman. And, in the top of the mountain, Kalistrox awaits for her, crying the loss as well.

The dead girl had been named Visenya.

When Daera arrives to the top, five heads turned around to look at her. Red cheeks, trembling lips, crying eyes and pained sobs was all she heard and see. Her siblings; Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, were crying as hard as her, with as much pain and despair.

-Daera-, Luke squealed, as red as the blood on her.

Today, they have lost their safety, they have lost their uncle, their grandsire. They have lost a sister they didn't even get to meet.

Daera sobbs, gasps, and then falls right into the ground, not keeping her own weight any longer. She collapsed completely, and her siblings were not far behind. They all hit the ground around her, crying non-stop, grieving like they had never grieved in their lives. At least not like this, not with so much weight, so much awareness, so much concern, so much unity.

Jacaerys hits the grass with his fists, Rhaena pulls it with despair, Baela hides her face behind her knees, screeching sadly, Lucerys shakes his head from side to side, Joffrey hugs his oldest sister as he cries endlessly. And she sobs with no sound, forever eye-closed, burning from within.

-Why is this happening?!-. The little boy, Joff, shrieks with confusion, the poor lad. His siblings cry even harder, wondering the same thing.

Near them, standing on the ground, Kalistrox purrs with no energy. Above of him, in the skies, Vermax, Arrax, Moondancer and Tyraxes fly around the mountain, looking down at them too. All of the dragons grieve with their riders, as sad as them. Syrax cries from the caves, and Caraxes is nowhere to be seen.

■ ■ ■

Visenya's funeral was held that same day.

Near the Dragonmont, away from the castle, the burning of the babe happened under a clear calmed sky, close the sea, and under a bunch of tired faces and sad eyes.

There are a handful of guards standing on the highest rocks around, keeping those below safe and under their sights. Anyway, even the guards looked down from time to time, feeling their hearts tighten when they saw the smoke coming from the corpse.

Lesser lords and crew from the castle both mourn with the royal family. Many of them can't stop staring at the other children, having an affection for them that hurts, right now, when imagining what they must be feeling now. The whole family is broken.

They, at least, are already clean. They washed temselves from feet to toe and changed into their usual clothes, only that with black capes on their shoulders, falling in the ground. They have stopped crying too, but the feeling is inmaculate, and cannot be heavier.

Rhaenyra and Daemon's children are all standing the closer to them, out of the others. They stand side to side, silent. There are still some tiny tears on Joffrey's eyes, who is holding Rhaena's and Jacaerys' hands. Luke, standing besides Daera and Baela, stares front with a worried frown, constantly gulping. Baela's face is hardened, keeping her lips closed. Daera, instead, keeps hers open, while her eyes are fixated on the stone pyre.

Rhaenys, on the other hand, stands the farest from them. Still dressed in her riding armour, The Lady of Driftmark watches everything from her place. She analyzes everything, trying not to focus so much on her grandchildren's faces, and instead doing it in Daemon and Rhaenyra, seeing them bury their child, just as she once did. Twice, better said. Both times because of them...

Princess Daera is tired, emotionally exhausted. A thousand things are crossing through her mind at this very moment. Nyra has lost a girl. Viserys is dead. Aegon has been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms. Aemond betrayed her, once again, in a row. Her husband...his family...guilty of all of this.

Daera couldn't help it, and a trembling sobb came out of her mouth, nearly scared, so hurted. Jacaerys turned his head to look at her, curving his brows. Then, he held one of her hands, intertwining their fingers.

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes, and resting her head on his chest, tiredly. She sighs, once again. Her husband.

As to Daemon and Rhaenyra, they stand right in front of the burning pyre, their burning babe. Milk of the poppy got to blubt the edge of her physical pain. Her hair is dry, broken by her harsh labor. The princess' baggy eyes are lost in the flames as she shakes her head lazily from time to time. She seems to be in trance.

"She was my only daughter...and they killed her. They stole my crown and murdered my daughter." Rhaenyra thinks, swollen in pain.

The prince, on the other hand, stares at her with no end. He keeps wondering and wondering and wondering. What is she thinking about? When will she take action? What is she going to do?

"They stole her crown and murdered our daughter. They must answer for it." Daemon thinks, raged.

In the middle of all the silence, steps started to being heard among the people. Daemon immediately starts to turn around, while the White Cloaks behind them took action as well, walking forward. When hearing the steps, Daera opens her eyes, and Jace looks too, the both of them furrowing their brows with alert.

The two White Cloaks in front of prince Daemon took out their swords and, to everyone's confussion, the walker in question is, in fact, a White Cloak as well.

-I mean no harm, brothers!-. The man spoke, taking off his helmet.

This man is Ser Erryk Cargyll. He lifted his chin, and looked towards Daemon, with his clear eyes being the mix of sorrow and bravery. So much emotion in them.

From the distance, Rhaenys looks at the knight that saved her from the hands of the green, whom she has to thank her scape to.

When seeing it was him, Daera parted her lips, shocked. She drew herself away from Jace's chest, and let go his hand, blinking a few times while looking at the knight. What...what is he doing here? He's Aegon's.

-Arryk-, Jacaerys murmurs.

-Erryk-, Daera corrected in a quick whisper. Her husband presses his lips, nodding to a side.

The other White Cloaks stepped back, and seathed their swords again. That allowed Ser Erryk to walk five steps forward, towards the very prince Daemon, and to kneel in front of him, lowering his head, and placing his helmet on the ground. Then, he opens the bag he carries with him.

Rhaenyra drew her eyes away from Visenya, turning around, and parting her lips when she saw what he took out of that brown leather bag.

The Crown of Jaehaerys, which he raised and offered with both his hands towards both princes, who were left speechless.

-I swear to ward the Queen...!-. Ser Erryk sepaks with firmness and loudness, though he was not screaming. Blinkless, Rhaenyra looks at the crown, the one that stood on her father's head for twenty-six years. Daera looks at him, wordless, seeing her uncle's crown-...with all my strength, and give my blood for hers-, he promises.

Rhaenyra starts to walk, slowly, while Daemon stared down at the crown as well, holding it in his hand.

-I shall take no wife, hold no lands-. The knight goes swearing, firmly. Daemon curves his brows, not hiding his sadness while looking at the Targaryen sigil. He thinks of his brother Viserys-, father no children-. He says. Daera gulps strongly, sharing a quick glance with her siblings, who looked back at her with the same interest-. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor-. He promises, fearless.

Daemon looks from the crown to his daughters, slightly narrowing his eyes. From her place, Rhaenyra stared at the children as well, and then back at the crown. They both thought the same thing in that moment. They cannot lose another child.

Ser Erryk looks up at his prince with his clear eyes, as honest as truth, having spoken from the bottom of his heart. He knows this is right.

Daemon, with his lips open, turned around his head, taking his eyes from the crown, to its queen. Rhaenyra looks back at him with seriousness, so fragile yet so strong. Sad, but decided. the living image of Viserys Targaryen.

When looking at the eyes of his wife, his got instantly tender, softening his brows. And then, her lips parted when he walks to her with the crown raised, looking at her head.

The children stare at there in awe, bemused, feeling how fast their hearts were starting to beat as their mother is crowned right in front of them.

Daemon kneeled in front of her, raising his head, lifting his eyes towards her, and calling her what she is.

-My Queen-, The Rogue Prince saluted.

Wearing her crown as if it was only ever made for her, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen opened her lips, and lifted her surprised and firm eyes.

She looked all around, and everywhere she'd see everyone atarted to bend their knee, for and to her. Rhaenyra moves her eyes all over the place, over-whelmed, and then she fixated her gace on them, their dearests.

Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Daera, Baela and Rhaena bend the knee altogether at the same time, lowering their head as well in demonstration of full respect to their mother. Their queen.

Rhaenys watches her grandchildren all kneeling. She didn't, having a light smirk on her face. She saw Baela sighing, as with relieve, and Daera pressing her lips, as with decision. The lady heads her eyes forward, silently.

Still kneeled, Ser Erryk blinks a few times, looking at the ground. Seconds then, he turns his face around to the right, looking for someone. And he found her. Daera raised her head, and looked back at him.

The knight's blue eyes met the princess' purple ones, and they both stared at each other while their hearts were beating rapidly due to all the emotions of the moment. Erryk parted his lips, speechless, while Daera pressed hers, feeling how her usual strength and confidence was starting to return to her.

To everyone.

Erryk lowered his head again, bowing, only that this time, it was to her. Daera gulped and kept looking at him firmly, briefly nodding.

With her throat afflicted, Rhaenyra gulped and stared forward with firmness, lifting her chin up and opening her eyes with bravery.

It is her moment.

■ ■ ■

Sometimes, in life, a great moment of despair, sadness and grieving can become in a moment of realization, gain of strength, and gain of will.

That is what has happened today. The stillborn-ess of the princess Visenya Targaryen, who appears wasn't meant to be, brought the royal family into extreme sadness and desperation, to not mention the pluck away of their throne, and rights. However, sadness and desperation came to be hope and will after the arrival of the White Cloak, Ser Erryk Cargyll.

The Crown of Jaehaerys was placed on Rhaenyra's head, an before that, on Viserys'. To be wearing her father's crown almost brought her to tears. She lost him too this very same day, she lost a daughter as well.

When Rhaenyra raised her head, she saw everyone kneeling down. Her husband called her his queen. Her children bent the knee to her. She looked at them and, while thinking of her lost ones, she realized something. She cannot allow herself to lose another.

And so the Dance began, as the Queen called a council of her own.

In her rooms, Daera stares at the two saphire rings her fingers are wearing. She has been wearing them for a year, nearly. The princess gulps, shaking her head for a second, and looking away from her hands, and rising her dress' skirt with them.

She pictured Aemond standing besides Aegon, who is seated on The Iron Throne. The image itself made her shiver, and to shake her head, clenching her teeth. The princess breathes heavily, feeling her thighs, and closing her eyes strongly. Aemond...how could he?

-Fucking...-. Daera gulps, looking down while afflicting her throat, thinking of her husband, the husband she knows dared to place his brother on the throne. After everything, after all this time, after all this marriage, he dared to do that to her-...fucking traitor!-. She spat the word as if her mouth was filled of blood, angry.

Time cannot go back. Her uncle is dead, as well as her sister, and their blood is stained by green hands. Aegon is king now, of at least he is painted as so, but she knows he has no wood. The boy is dirty cotton, and she is not the only one to be aware of it. The princess Daera knows that everybody knows Aegon is no more than a scoundrel. Oh, and she has marks that definetely prove that.

Moments then, a belt fell on the floor of the princess' room. She walked out of it with fastness and determination, never looking back. Behind, she left the leather belt she's always wearing on her thigh, belonging to her husband. The husband who betrayed her, and her family. The belt will not be of her needing now, not where she's going.

"The Black Council"

At the Chamber of The Painted Table, the Queen's council now awaits for her. And, in the meantime, multiple burning candles are placed under the sacred table, leading the fire towards a thousand of lines.

Those lines created rivers, islands, mountains, castles. Dragonstone, Maidenpool, Rook's Rest, The Twins, White Harbour, The Vale of Arryn, The Neck, Harrenhal, the Blackwater Rush. The table maps Westeros whole.

Lucerys parts his lips slowly, staring at all the places in the map. Jace, at his side, does the same, calculatingly and thoughtful. Daemon stands in the head of the table, completely silent and serious, waiting as well as the others. Joffrey has been sent to his rooms, for these are no places for a child.

Ser Erryk, cold-faced and quiet, reads the map in silence, admiring how the fire lits up every single letter. He half-closes his eyes, reading. In another part of the room, Baela stands besides Rhaenys, the both of them silence, the most of the time. The girl is tired, The Lady of Driftmark knows.

Rhaena, while holding a jar of fresh wine for the lords, looks at the floor while thinking of her lost sister. She can't stop thinking of her mother, and the other sibling she lost without even knowing it. That's two. Too much.

Some of the council turn their heads around when listening steps coming by. It is princess Daera who is arriving to the chamber, as confidently as ever, silent, and yet making everyone to notice her. Oh, and they very much did.

The princess wears a black long dress of leather that has no sleeves. And, because of this, everyone got to see the fresh wounds on her. In her left arm five, and in her right one three thin lines of dry blood. From her upper arms, to her wrists as well, untill ending on her shoulders. She is marked by healing red cords.

-Princess!-. Maester Gerardys gulped when looking at her while she approaches the table.

The onlu color on her is the chainmail sleeve she wears on her right arm, red, covering from the start of her wrist to the start of her upper arm. A fine piece she found back in the Street of Steel.

Daemon furrowed his brows slowly, looking at her at every moment, at her wounds, confused.

-My lords-. The princess smirls lightly towards the men, nodding while walking. Her siblings, in silence, look at her with worriness, recalling who made those wounds-. Maester, worry not-. She mumbled when walking by his side. Gerardys stuttered.

Ser Erryk had opened his eyes widely, following her with them at everymoment. He knows, of course, those wounds are the result of the abuse prince Aegon did to her some nights ago. It made him shiver to remember their screams, their curses, and how then the princess screamed and cursed at him too.

Rhaenys blinks fastly, highly confused and worried, about to ask. Only Baela's light and discreet touch made her to keep silence, though still uncomfortable.

Daera placed herself besides her husband, Jacaerys, whom she shared a quick look with. They both noded. The princess, then, gulped and blink, looking to her other side. At her very left, Ser Erryk stands, tall and strong, looking down at her with a tense frown, staring endlessly at her wounds.

-A paint lasts longer-. Daera blinkled calmly, looking away, and lifting her chin.

Erryk nearly gasped, opening his lips and looking at her face. She didn't look back at him. Then, new steps are heard echoing through the halls of close, making everyone to look towards there.

Daemon looked away from his eldest daughter, clenching his jaw, and then lifted his chin when recognizing those steps just by their sound.

-Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen-. The Rogue Prince named. She came through the entrance, walking with her guards, wearing her crown-. First of Her Name-. Daemon says, calmly. Rhaena sighed, and Jace bit his inner cheeks-. Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men-. Daera breathed in deeply, and Baela curved her brows-. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm-, he declared.

Everyone, less Rhaenys, bowed their heads towards the Queen. Lucerys thought how he was standing in this very same side of the table this moring, talking with her about her heirness. And now look at her. His mom is Queen. Their mom.

-Your Grace-, Daemon welcomed, serious.

Rhaenyra eyes everyone for a few seconds and, when confirming they were all here, her husband and children, she walked forward. She immediately stopped the guards, who were loyally planning to follow her. Gently, and almost doubtly, she raised a hand, asking them to remain there.

When Nyra turned around again, she found Rhaena approaching with a jar and a kind smile. Nyra sighs through nose, thinking how tender she looks.

-Wine, my Queen-. She says.

The Queen started to rise her hand, and then stopped, doubtful. For a second there she almost forgot she wasn't pregnant anymore. She can drink wine, she can drink whatever she desires to, for there is longer no child in her womb.

-Thank you, Rhaena-. Rhaenyra said when finally holding the cup. She looks at the child, blinkless. Now that Visenya is gone...this, this is her younger girl-...Come-, she sweetly murmurs, looking at her.

Daera smirks tinyly, watching as they walk towards the table. On the way, Rhaenyra cocked her head to Baela, inviting her as well. Doubtlessly, after looking at her grandmother, the young woman followed her step-mother and sister, joining the men and their siblings in the table.

The Painted Table is complete now.

Rhaenyra glances at it, and then at her family. Her lips immediately parted, gasping, when seeing the wounds on Daera's arms.

-What- what are those?-. Her voice echoed in the hall whole, bemused. Everyone stared at both princesses, anxious too for the answer.

Rhaenyra had an inmediate thought: that she hurted Daera while she was giving birth. Fright covered her when wondering it was her who hurted her skin so badly. They will scar, noticeably. Is this her fault?, Nyra fears.

The princess clears her throat lightly.

-Granted by The Usurper, my Queen-. Daera answered. Gasps and murmurs were heard all along the hall. Rhaenyra remanied blinkless, bemused, while Rhaenys furrowed her brows strongly.

-How?-. Nyra's voice is firm, annoyed, and motherlike. Daera breathed in deeply, noticing how all the lords and knights were shocked as their rotten image of Aegon II gets worse in their heads. Just as she wants it to be.

-We happened to drive ourselves into a not too friendly fight, Your Grace, when I confronted him about a...vile act of his-. Daera sighs heavily, raising her brows-. This was his answer-, she mumbles, casually, rocking her arms.

Daemon encloses his eyes, looking at his daughter while the lords mumble and shake their heads in disapprovement. She looks back at him, silently, but lifting a side of her lips into a naughty smirk. She knows what she's stating by showing those ugly wounds. Daemon applauded her in his mind, nodding briefly.

Afterwards, they look at Rhaenyra. They all did, waiting for a response. She's just learned that, besides all of his other treacherys, her half-brother also wounded her daughter. Everyone looked at her in hope of a take of action.

In silence, they all waited for her first word as Queen. All heards was the waves from the near beach, and the flapping of their dragons' wings from afar. Daemon stares at her, coldly. She clenched her jaw, eyeing the table while playing with two fingers of hers.

-What is our standing?-. She asked.

The Prince Consort didn't even breathe, and instantly answered.

-We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred man at arms-. They all looked at him inmediately. Daera and Jace leaned their heads forward at the same time-. Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired-. He says.

Luke blinks fastly, not understanding how he knows this much by heart.

-We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I'll have some support there, bit I cannot speak to the numbers-. Daemon adds, not blinking once. Rhaenyra listens with concentration.

-We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn and Bar Emmon-. Maester Gerardys counts as he looks to the Queen.

While the maester speaks, Jacaerys picks some of the pieced of the table, carrying them. And while thst happens, Nyra sets her eyes on a place in the map, one she instantly pointed to.

-My lady mother was an Arryn-. She reminded, and Jace quickly placed a piece on...-The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin-, Rhaenyra points.

-And it is ruled by a woman, Jeyne Arryn, your aunt-. Daera looked at that point as well when she spoke, raising her brows. Ser Erryk looks at her by the side of his blue eyes, curious-. Were she to support Cunt Aegon, and not you, a woman, will bring a lot to be said about her own ruleship, wether she wants it or not-. The princess points with bluntness, shaking her head.

The many lord nodded towards her with reasoning, as serious as rocks. Nyra gave her a nod, concording too, and quickly lifting a side of her lips. Rhaenys, from her place, did the same.

-Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace-. Gerardys pointed with a calmed tone, looking at her. Rhaena nods silently, interested-. With prince Daemon's acquiescence, I've already sent ravens to Lord Grover-. He states proudly, glancing towards the prince, who nodded briefly.

But when Grover was mentioned, Rhaenyra became more tense than usual, something that only her children noticed. Curious, they look at her, while she looks at Daemon, blinkless. It is as if they know something they don't.

-Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed. He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position-. While she speaks firmly, he gulps, emotion-less-, and that we will support him should it come to war-. Rhaenyra adviced.

-I'm going to treat with him myself-. Daemon, then, said. That made Rhaenyra even more tense, making their children to look at one another, suspiciously.

-What of Storm's End and Winterfell?-. One of the old lords asks.

-There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath, and with House Stark, the North will follow-. Lord Bartimos said.

Daera sighed lowly, heading her eyes to Winterfell, and then to Storm's End. Little does she knows that her husband, right as we speak, rides Vhagar towards that very same place, planning on marrying one of the lord's daughter.

But we're not there yet.

-Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father's promises-. The Queen declared, serious.

Jace licked his lips, sharing a glance with his wife, who looked back at him in silence. Then, they both see one of the Queen's Guard placing a golden piece on the map. On Winterfell.

Jacaerys places another piece near a place he wanted his mother to see. When she read the word Driftmark, she breathed in deeply, and lifted her chin and voice.

-What news from Driftmark?-. Rhaenyra asked, turning around to look at The Lady of Driftmark. Daera and her siblings looked at her grandma, expecting help from her.

For a second, Rhaenys' eyes were soft towards Rhaenyra, seeing her as Queen. But then she just raised her brows, loosening her face.

-Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone-. She informed, instantly surprising the lot of her grandchildren.

-To declare for his Queen-. Daemon states with pride and a cocky smirk, watching at his cousin. Rhaenyra kind of repproached him with her eyes, while Rhaenys only kept smirking softly, looking back at him.

-The Velaryon fleet is in my husband's yoke-. The princess answers. Daera clenches her lips, lightly desperated by her grandma's desinterest-. He decides where they sail-, she declares, winning a harsh look from Daemon.

-We shall pray for both you and your husband's support-. The Queen softly says, while all her children stare at their grandma endlessly-. Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake's return to good health-. She pointed. That, and the heavy glances of her grandchildren, made Rhaenys to look down, gulping-. There's no port on the Narrow Sea would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet-. Rhaenyra denies, cocking her head, and turning around again.

Daera sucks the inside of one of her cheeks, thinking of her nearing grandsire. She blinks, and then ups her head, looking at Ser Erryk. She found the knight already staring at her. They both looked away instantly.

-And our enemies?-. Rhaenyra questions.

-We have no friends among the Lannisters-. Daemon, as usual, answers fastly-. Tyland has served The Hand too long to turn against him, and Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet-. He pointed. Baela raised her brows with dissapproval, not liking the fact.

The princess Daera scrunches her mouth, lightly, when she suddlenly started to feel some discomfort on her chest, an unquietness. "Kalistrox", she thinks, knowing these feelings were his. The girl furrows her brows.

-Without the Lannisters, we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth-. The Queen realizes as well.

-No-. Her husband quickly denied. She looked up at him, and so he looked down, almost ashamed-. The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace-. He murmurs.

Luke and Rhaena fastly turned their heads when Lord Bartimos suddenly spoke.

-Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot-. He says quickly, looking at the Queen. Daera, Jace and Erryk look at him with interest at the same time-. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria! Dragons!-. The lord spoke with passion.

As the word is mention, Daera gently closed her fists at the sides of her body, thinking of her golden boy. Jace did the same with Vermax, lifting his chin. Baela also seemed prideful of her beast. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra was the only one to be left bemused.

-The greens have dragons as well-, she pointed with obviousness.

-They have three adults, by my count-. By how fast he talked, Daemon almost seemed to interrupt her.

Daera blinks slowly, losing herself on her mind for a few moments. If dragons are to fight between each other...gods, it'd be catastrophic. The only thought made her to shiver and gulp, not too fascinated by the idea of dragon killing dragon. What if hers is to fight...Aemond's?

-We have Syrax, Caraxes, Kalistrox and Meleyes-. Daemon counts with confidence, enterclosing his purrple eyes. Baela and Rhaena raised their brows and glanced at their grandma, who blinked with taunt when her dragon was mentioned as one of theirs-. Our sons have Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes!-. He keeps naming, proudly. Luke plays with his fingers, thinking of his young dragon-. Baela has Moondancer-, he recalls, softly, looking at his daughter.

-Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war-. Rhaenyra is fast to point the fact out, serious.

-Not against another dragon-. Daera whispered to herself, but both men at her sides heard her. Jace, who pressed his lips and nodded, agreeing with her, and Ser Erryk, who blinked thoughtfuly when thinking of her skills as a dragonrider. Would she be afraid of war?, he wonders.

-There are also unclaimed dragons-. Daemon points-. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont...still riderless...-, and when the prince added that part, he eyed his youngest daughter. Rhaena's heart skipped a beat for a second as she looked at him, thinking of those unclaimed dragons-. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here-, he recalls.

-And who is to ride them?-. The Queen questioned, bemused, not following his plan.

-Dragonstone has thirteen to their four-. Prince Daemon counted with firmness.

Daera slightly turned her head when Ser Erryk fled from her side. Curious, she sees him approaching towards a servant who stands in the entrance. Afterwards, she blinks and pay attention to the table again, still wondering why Kalistrox is feeling annoyed.

-We also have that bag of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont-. Daemon recalls, suddenly taking one of the pieces, and moving from his place for the first time-. Now...we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host-. He goes saying, loudly.

-Where?-. Baela murmurs.

-Here, at Harrenhal-. And the prince placed the piece in said place. Daera furrows her brows.

-Larys Strong is Harrenhal's lord, and Alicent Hightower's bitch. His people won't be happy-. The prince's eldest daughter spoke, crossing her arms.

-Neither'll we-. Daemon mumbles with taunt, side-eyeing her for a quick second. She raised her brows, sharing a glance with Nyra, who sighed heavily through her nose-. We cut off the west, surround King's Landing with the dragons, and we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns-. The rage of a grieving warrior made him to speak fastly and harshly.

Daera parted her lips instantly, shivering. He wouldn't be talking about Aemond too, nor Helaena nor her children, right? Aegon is the only one that needs to be killed, right? Holy fucks. FUCK!

-Your Grace-. Erryk approaches back to the table, hurried and tense. The Queen turned to look at him-. A ship has been sighted offshore-. He informs duly. Luke inmediately takes a step back, frightened. Daera afflicts her throat-. A lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon-. The knight describes.

-Shit-, Daera instantly flinched.

-Alert the watchtowers, sight the skies!-. Daemon's cold voice orders as he quickly turns around and heads to grab Dark Sister.

Rhaenyra looks down, pressing her lips.

Luke gulps heavily, looking at his mother with worriness.

-Jace, Baela, come with me. Now!-. Daera does not wate a second and starts to walk fastly towards the exit.

Jacaerys and Baela immediately abandoned their stations and walked behind their sister with the same quickness as hers. Lucerys and Rhaena followed them with their surprised and fearful eyes.

-Whe- where are you going?!-. Rhaena yelled at them while everyone else started to go from one place to another.

Daera, Baela and Jace walked down the stairs with fastness. And, while doing so, the eldest answered.

-To sight the skies!-. The Rogue Princess firmly said.

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#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #rhaenyra targaryen #daera targaryen #original writing #hotd season 1

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camilbarnessss · 10 months

Text

Lord…

Gods…

What have we come to?

Or, well, better said…what we will go to?

■ ■ ■

The Iron Throne’s hall remains…sad. Cold. Lonely. Sad.

-I know what my father was…-

That ugly cold chair made of swords is the only listener to the voice that talked. A loosen voice, but also a firm one.

-What he did-, the voice continues.

Daera Targaryen’s.

-I know The Rogue Prince earned his name-

She spoke harshly, poison-like. The fists to the sides of her body, all covered in blood, tightened with a trembling rage.

■ ■ ■

Burn them all!

■ ■ ■

She has the city.

■ ■ ■

-I’ll kill every traitor I get my fucking hands on…-, The Rogue Prince spits his words.

Caraxes screeches, wiggling his wounded red neck.

■ ■ ■

Daeron presses his dry lips, feeling his pounding heart. Feeling defenseless, he looks up at his mother.

-Everyone who isn’t us… is an enemy…-. The Green Queen dictated, afflicted, and as scared as her younger child.

■ ■ ■

King Aegon II grumbles, spitting his brew out of his mouth, out of rage.

-Ser Criston, bring me his head!-. He demands with a scream, making echo in the walls of the throne’s hall.

At his side, The Hand of The King watches him with a calculating expression. And, on his side, The Kinslayer turns to look at him with a tense jaw and dead gaze.

Then, a sword swings in the air, only to afterwards cry blood.

■ ■ ■

-We are Velaryon! We take what is ours!-. The Sea Snake dictates as he and his large fleet stare at one same place.

The Gullet.

■ ■ ■

-Dragons do not fear blood…-, The Kinslayer’s crooked growly voice speaks with lowness, as his blue sapphire glimmers his own miserable reflection.

And behind him, in that very same reflection, another glim catches his eye. The one of a brown-haired, green-dressed woman. And she smirked at him.

■ ■ ■

Helaena let out a most heart-broken and filled of gloom scream, crying with no end as the candles’ fire around her tinkle with the wind that comes from the open window.

Lying on the floor, she screams as she swims in the pool of blood that oozes from a head-less little body.

■ ■ ■

-You don’t think I am one of those beasts, do you?-. Daera questions with a taunting burlesque smirk, narrowing her eyes.

As she shrugges, Kalistrox growls, menacing, with blood and teeth raining down from his own mouth.

■ ■ ■

-I now proclaim…-

One of the Cargyll twins stands tall, as he speaks firm. And he looks at the head in which he is placing the crown.

-…of the House Targaryen, protector of The Seven Kingdoms!-, he claims.

■ ■ ■

Tumbletown burns and melts as the dragons dance on it’s smoky dark skies.

■ ■ ■

-Alicent, Aegon, Alys, Criston, Aemond…-Daera blinks as she names them all with tiredness and with, to be blunt, neutrality, as she caresses the scars of her naked shoulders-…They’re all just playing a game-. She sighs, shrugging.

Cregan Stark stares at her with dark serious eyes, ones full of the desire of something: justice.

-“We won this one”, “we will win that one”, and on and on it spins!-. The Targaryen hisses, opening her eyes big and rolling them to the back of her head, exhausted-… Forgetting those who created that game…-, she mumbles.

-Which are…?-, The Lord of Winterfell asks.

Daera turns to look at him, blinkless, while her fingers get cut due to how hard she is pressing against The Iron Throne’s arms.

-…Me-, she dictates.

■ ■ ■

Those spikes in Maegor’s Holdfast…, they hold on them the one that was the purest of hearts of the kindest of souls.

□

The dragons breath their fire with anguish as they screech with fear and roar with rage. The chains may be too big, the smallfolk too many, and the wounds to deep, but they were decided: they were going to live.

They were supposed to.

□

Lovers Island. Lit in fire.

■ ■ ■

-The Rogue Queen is coming for all of us!-. Ser Criston spoke with poison, and undeniable fright.

The Queen In Chains sobs when hearing so, shaking her head.

■ ■ ■

The Kinslayer gulps, slowly turning his head around as he feels his soul leaving his slim scarred body.

-There’s only one word that matters…-, Aemond Targaryen once, too long ago, said.

At his side, his Strong Lady starts to turn as well, parting her pink dry lips with astonishment, and curiosity.

-…your word-, he said that time.

■ ■ ■

Daera’s mad eyes flicker endlessly. On Kalistrox’s backs, she looks down to the ground with rage, thirst and fury. Oh, look at them, Oh, she has a word to say.

And it is here

■ ■ ■

Luke breathes fast, thinking that he escaped that green old dragon.

The Dance over Shipbreaker Bay.

-VHAGAR!...NO! No…!-

□

-VERMAX!-, Jace screams loudly, while his dragon plummets towards the ocean.

The Battle of The Gullet.

-JACE!-

□

-Jump! JUMP, JUMP!-. Daera runs while she screams, looking at the sky.

-Jump, jump-. Daemon’s broken voice spoke fast as he runs at her side, also looking at the clouds.

Baela screeches, agitated, opening her eyes with determination while the wind blows away her scared tears.

-JUMP, BAELA!-

□

The Queen Who Never Was, and her dragon. Both of them: reeking.

Meleys death burned body now is the perfect eternal dinner for the carrion birds. Rhaenys’s body, completely unrecognizable, however, will serve as no meal. For it is only ashes now. Her life goes away with the smoke that it stills surrounds her.

The Battle at Rook’s Rest.

□

The Rogue Prince, crawling out of that bloody river. Crawling away from death. With no success.

And the One-Eyed Prince…oh…

The Battle Above the Gods Eye.

□

-Tyraxes needs me!-, Joffrey screeches, with tears on his blue eyes.

-He does not, Joff…-. His mother smiled brokenly towards him, while the city, her city, burns and dies right behind her.

The Fall of King’s Landing.

□

Helaena’s feet slipped away of the window’s frame. She didn´t lose her balance or anything, she just…

Fell.

□

King Aegon II, ill, ugly, drunken and weak, smiles.

-…Dracarys-, he whispered.

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#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aegon #helaena the dreamer #alicent hightower #baela targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaena velaryon

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 9 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, angst, family toxicity and drama, mentions of abortion, references to sex, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

Lovers Island's beach and hills watches as the green huge dragon who always nests in it takes off from the white sand while she growls, and purrs, exhausted.

Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon of the world, abandoned the island some minutes ago, and now flaps her green wings in a sky that dawns. The clouds are heavy, for they more mist than anything, and the breeze is cold. The stars are fading away in the air, and the moon is getting everytime smaller, invisible, and insignificant.

We cannot say the same about prince Aemond's feelings, though.

The One-Eyed Prince faces the borning sun of the new day as he holds his saddle with firmness, but weariness, if that makes sense. His long white hair, disheveled, falls in his back, a little bit curly because of the damp of his island. His leather clothes are wrinkled, for he slept in the bare sand of the beach, the reason of why his back aches, as well as his shoulders and legs.

His night, sincerely, was horrible. The worst of his life, he'd dare to say. The prince, after being left alone by his crying heart-broken wife, wept iron tears and yelled cursed words until he couldn't even hold himself anymore. Filled of grief, despair, anguis and angriness, Aemond pulled out the sapphire of his eye's socket, throwing it away, and cried until he fainted, right in the shores, wrapped by the white sand and a the breeze of the cold waves in the sea. He only woke up because Vhagar came for him at The Hour of the Nightingale, after hours of having fly away, waking him up with light touches of her warm smoky nose, and purrs from deep her throat.

Then, and just then, the prince left the island, finding a new arriving day. Let us be honest, he cried again at the moment of remembering what happened last night, but didn't allow himself much grief, for he decided it was time to go back to his home, and there he'd cry more, and see his wife again. So, after finding his sapphire in the sand, and washing it with a cup of clean water from the hut he priorly drink of, he stared at the Pentosi painting of them in it for nearly half an hour, and then the prince and his dragon left Lovers Island, their secret place.

Soon enough, Vhagar found herself soaring near King's Landing, arriving to its shores. While doing so, Aemond looked at The Red Keep, gulping with nerves when thinking about Daera, and how it willl be to see her face after last night's acts. The nerves are not too strong, though, for he only wishes to see her, and nothing more. His mind hasn't changed. The pain and sadness brought by his doings are one thing, but he still doesn't regret them at all. Why would he? He made the hard decision. The smart one. However, he still desires to meet with his mistress, to kiss her, and finally talk right while they cuddle in the green silk bed-sheets of him. Perhaps he'll ask her to sing him, afterwards. Oh, he definetely will.

But, when the prince looked down, his blond brows came to furrow.

First, he looked at the beach's shore, where his dragon usually nests with The Golden Ray when he is at the capital. Weird, then, it is that there is no trace od the golden beast, anywhere. Secondly, alreadly confused, he glanced at the royal harbour, just to find the ship of his half-sister, Rhaenyra, totally gone. No trace of his wife's dragon, or her family's boat.

Did she...? No no, she couldn't have.

Aemond walked into The Red Keep by the front gate, walking firm and quick, hiding all the pain of his body and heart. He goes with his arms crossed behind his back, and his black leather patch covering his bone-chilling sapphire.

It is still the early morning, where the castle is supposed to be still asleep, but he notices too many servants walking around, all of them turning their heads to look at the floor when they walk, really quickly, pass him. Aemond started to carefully peer around as he walks, silently confused. There are plenty of eyes in him, more than normal, and for longer than normal. Why?, he wonders. He doesn't understand. Is there something he doesn't knwo? He hates this feeling. Is Daera okay? Is Daera here?

Aemond hums, low, hearing all the whispers from around. But, not minding them much, he tsks his tongue, fastly running out of patience.

-Excuse me-. Polite, and serious, he suddenly stopped a servant boy, one of young age, and nervous brown eyes, which looked up at him within a second when he stopped.

-My prince-, the boy bows, whispering, gulping.

-Where can I find the princess Rhaenyra, would you happen to know?-. He asks, not daring to ask about Daera herself. As much as he loathes his half-sister, it is a better person to ask for than his "lover of the past", for she is so according to the gossiping servants themselves.

-The princess and her family left the capital all at The Hour of The Owl, my prince-. The servant answered with a low tone, playing with his fingers behind his back.

Aemond stays blinkless, though the insides or him twitched with bemusement.

-All of them?-. He questions, serious.

-Her lord husband and their eight children whole, my prince-. The boy affirms, repeatedly nodding.

Aemond didn't need to count, he knows the number by heart. Three bastards, two brats, two one-year old and...the love of his live. Daera has left the capital, then...right after she fled their discussion.

The One-Eyed Prince just looked away, clenching his jaw, and taking the conversation for ended. The servant boy, though, kept staring at him for three more seconds, until a thin nervous whisper left his thirsty brown lips.

-...My deepest sympathies for your loss, my prince-. The boy muttered. And as fast as he said it, as fast he left, turning around to quickly walk away.

Prince Aemond froze in that very instant, strongly furrowing his brows and following the boy with his gaze, bemused. His heart starts to beat quickly and nervously, so lost in the middle of all this discretions and whispers. And, speaking of whispers...

When Aemond started to listen more closely to the low mumbles being muttered around him by the servants, his attentive ears started to catch a common word that was being repeated over and over. And that is when his heart truly stopped.

-The King...-

-Viserys!-

-...The King-

His father.

Aemond stumbled, taking a step back with his eye wide opened. His mind went blank, and them suddenly exploded with a hundred different thoughts. Questions, ponderings, doubts.

Is what I am hearing hearing true? Is it, what I am understanding, just by the mere listening of murmurs? No, no. There is someone who will clear the things for him. This cannot be happeing, not now! We're not ready!

Aemond mouthed the word "mother ", and immediately turned around, walking the stairs up towards Maegor's Holdfast as his chest was pounding with quickness and jitteriness.

■ ■ ■

A beautiful embroidery of a red sophisticated spider is the one princess Helaena's kind hands are sewing, at the moment, with total delicacy and patience.

The princess is at her mother's rooms, by herself with her children, and her handmaiden, Claudia. Helaena brought the kids early to their grandmother's chambers, but they didn't find her in here, for some reason. Either ways, too tired -she doesn't knows why- to walk back to her apartments, Helaena instead decided to remain here, calmly.

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, her sweetests, are seated on the floor as they play with their toys, babbling from time to time. Claudia, seated with them as well, watches them play with a tiny smile on her lips, keeping silence.

As the dear princess sews her spider, she blinks, thouthful. Last night, before seeing Daera leaving the capital, they both shared a very sad moment in her cousin's very chambers. Turns out she won't be an aunt anymore, because her brother, Aemond, regretted it after finding out his child would be a bastard.

When hearing the news, Helaena's heart broke in two. She didn't only feel her own pain, but her brother and cousin's too. She felt Daera's deep sadness and disappointment, like her brightest dream had been crushed before her eyes, and perhaps it was. And she feelt Aemond's shame, despair and helpless, for his lateness on the realization on the matter only brought more pain to him, and to his wife. Helaena's own sadness comes from the fact of their broken hope of having a child of their own. If she just could do something, she would, the dearest thinks.

Alyssa. That would have been such a pretty name, for her niece. She would had pamper her as much as her children's godsparents pamper them. They are too good, Daera and Aemond.

Helaena raises her gaze for a second, and she sees Jahaerys taking a wooden dragon toy from his sister's hand, snatching it away. While Claudia immediayely gave the girl another toy, their mother keeps paying mind to what she saw.

Aemond comes to her mind.

Her young brother seems to be a cursed one, she sometimes dares to think. He has always been jealous of Aegon, she knows, for he doesn't behaves as a decent person should, as an older brother should, as a male firstborn should. He also loathes Jace, their nephew, because he is the actual husband to his wife, in the public eye, and to the eye of everyone in general. Aemond doesn't has the opportunity of proving himself worthy of a crown, for the gods cursed him to be born as a second son. Then, he lost the opportunity of being a father because the child would be seen as Jace's, and not his.

Doesn't matter how destiny keeps telling him things, it just seems like...- Helaena will put it into words.

-It is our fate, I think, to crave always what is given to another-. The princess suddenly speaks her mind, thoughtful. Claudia silently listens while she plays with the kids, still not used to her sudden chats. Helaena breathes in, feeling she wasn't clear enough-. If one possesses a thing, the other will...take it away-, she softly says.

-Yes, princess-. Claudia turned her head to look at her, giving her a warm quick smile.

Helaena smiles for a moment as well, closing her lips and nodding with easiness, feeling listened.

All feeling of easiness disappeared as soon as the doors of the room are suddenly opened, making them to look there. It is Queen Alicent who enters, along with The Hand, both of them noticeably hurried and alerted.

-Where is Aegon?-, Alicent asks, breathing fast.

With her throat afflicted, Helaena shivers when listening to his name. Into a second, she remembers last night, when she cuddled with Daera in her bed. The brown-skinned princess answered her questions about the wounds in her arms and, by extension, she told her too about Aegon, and Dyana. Helaena wept so hard, when realizing what has happened to her sweet young maiden, in the hands of her husband...

Tense, she looks around the room, clearly knowing he was not around, thank the gods.

-Not here-, the princess shrugged, not knowing what else to tell them.

The Hand remembers last night, when he asked to his second grandson, Aemond, where his brother was, at what he answered "rotting himself more". In that moment, Otto didn't put to much attention to that answer, but now he wished he had.

-He's not in his rooms-, he speaks softly towards his granddaughter.

Helaena just blinks, and lowered her head to look at her embroidery, silently watching at the red spider. It made her shiver, again, the thought of her older brother.

Claudia stares at the Queen with cautiousness, knowing what is exactly going on in the castle. One must not questions the quickness of servants' whispers.

Helaena looks up again when hearing some steps. Her grandpa is leaving, which Alicent looked at with an alerted gaze.

-Father-, she quickly calls him, being ignored by Otto, who left. Her mother breathes fast, turning to look at her again.

-Aemond-, Jaehaera babbled right after the word "father" was spoken. Helaena opens her eyes big, turning to look at them.

-Aemond-, the male twin quickly babbled too.

Their grandma looks at them with her lips opened, not sure if she understood them well. Within a second, Claudia took the hands of the children.

-Come-, she whispered to the twins, helping them to stand. Alicent keeps looking at them, wondering if it's true that her first son spends so little time with his children, that they think their father is Aemond.

-What's happened?-. Helaena asks, at last, seeing how their children went out of the room.

Her mother, after sighing, walks towards the couch, and took seat at her side. When she did so, Helaena silently placed herself a little further, widening their distance. Alicent is being...weird, and she detests when that happens.

Blinkless, Helaena stares at the floor.

Alicent closes her lips, getting ready to tell her the news as she feels some tears coming up to her tired eyes. For a second, the redhead's mind went back to not too many nights ago, when she shared a more than wholesome moment with her daughter, her second son, and her grandchildren. That night, Helaena allowed her to sweetly touch her. And, for the love of The Mother, she so much wants that with her daughter right now.

-Your father...-, she begins to say, lowly.

-There is a beast beneath the boards-. Helaena interrupted her from a second to another, turning to look at her with fear on her eyes, blinking nervously with them.

Alicent watches her with extreme sadness, not understanding her, and opening her lips.

-Oh my dearest love-, she sadly cooes, approaching to her with an open arm.

But Alicent didn't turn out to be so lucky this time, for her daughter immediately flinched and pulled her arm away, not looking at her again. Helaena pressed her lips, knowing her mother did not listen, as she never does.

Before the rejectment, the Queen only closes her mouth, and looks down with shame, in silence. She scrunches her lips, not surprised, but sad. She didn't notice Helaena side-eyed her with some doubt, nervously touching the embroidery.

Then, footsteps approach to the room, making both women to turn their eyes towards there. Sorrowful, Alicent opens her lips, and Helaena opened hers, taking a deep breath in when she saw who entered to the chambers.

Aemond stopped walking, looking at them. His eye is wide opened, his lips are departed, and his heart is pounding fastly, staring at both women who turned to glance at him with different and yet similar emotions.

It didn't took long for the one-eyed to completely understand what is happening, to confirm his suspicions. It sinked in within a second, just by seing his mother's face.

In Helaena, he noticed she knows of what happened with Daera, and Alyssa. And, in Alicent, he noticed the plein truth in her eyes, one that will change everything, if it already hadn't.

Within a second, Aemond understood his life has taken a big turn.

Because The King is dead.

■ ■ ■

Let us turn our heads, and see towards near the ends of Blackwater Bay. Let us swim past Hull and Driftmark, and be welcomed by the waters of The Gullet. And so here we are, in the first seat of The Targaryens in Westeros.

Dragonstone.

Vermax, Moondancer and Syrax fly together above of the castle, soaring with their different colored wings as they enjoy of the breeze, and the freshness of the morning. And they are not the only ones.

-Can someome pass me the bread? I can't reach it-, Luke asks, gently.

-You're on your own-, Joffrey answered him with his mouth full of food. Lucerys tsked, and a brief snicker was heard from Daera.

Far away from the fuss and whispers of The Red Keep, The Heir to The Iron Throne and her whole family are breaking their fast in one of the many mountains of their island. Four guards are with them, though they keep a fair distance with the family, allowing them to eat at ease and in privacy, as they custom.

-Here you have-. Rhaena, as sweet as ever, hands the bread to her betrothed, who pressed his lips into a smile.

-Thank you-, he whispered, taking it.

-You are welcome-, she smiled to him, seeing him blushing.

-You are red-, Joffrey mumbled with taunt.

-Joff-, Rhaenyra sighs across the table. Now it was Baela who chuckled, while chewing her eggs.

In a neighbor hill, the dragons of the family rest near them. Arrax and Tyraxes are gladly eating the generous amount of sheep corpses Kalistrox and Caraxes brought clawed in their teeth, not too long ago. The Red Wyrm and The Golden Ray went out to hunt, early. And, after eating properly, they brought some breakfast to the young not-used-to-hunt dragons. The ones in the sky, Syrax, Vermax and Moondancer have already been fed by the dragonkeepers of the island.

Daemon, minutes ago, stood up from the table and walked down the mountain, assuring to be back after the excuse that "he'll bring something" with him. Meanwhile, Aegon and Viserys are in the castle, being attended by the dear midwives.

-Did we wake up too early, today, do you think?-. Rhaenyra asks curiously, clinking her fork against the plate while looking at her children-. Perhaps we...could have woken a bit later-, she shrugges.

-Nonsense, we are well rested-. Rhaena answered with a smile, and Luke agreed.

-We are not-. Jacaerys, sleepy, mumbled. And with him, Daera has her eyes closed, Joffrey is eating with slowness, and Baela is yawning with her mouth wide opened.

Rhaenyra curved her lips into a pity smile, looking at the tired ones.

-You are fine because you slept in your fancy ship-, Baela raises her brows towards Luke, Rhaena and their mother.

-It was a good night in our fancy ship-. Lucerys showed off, smiling, and her betrothed giggled, keeping to herself the fact that Luke puked around three times during the voyage.

Jace sighs, shaking his head, and chewing his meal. For a quick second, he eyed Daera, who is seated at his right, and remains with her eyes closed as she sips from her goblet.

-The flight back indeed was more exhausting than the one from here to there-, Joffrey confesses, though a smile shines on his face-. But I could do it a hundred times over!-, he grunts, high-spirited, bringing some chuckles to the table.

-Though you will not, little man-. His mother giggled with her characteristic sweet voice, raising her brows towards him-. Tyraxes is still a young dragon, not to mention you-. She points at him with her eyes, nodding.

-Come on-, the boy huffs, melting on his chair. His big sister, Daera, watches him in silence with a soft expression, moved by his spirits. Then she sipped again from her goblet.

-Anyways, those who wish to sleep, shall do it-. Nyra spoke, gaining curious looks from the children-. We had two very busy days, so it would not be a crime to take this one with more easiness-, The Heir raises her brows-. There are few duties for today-, she pointed.

-I have to study my High Valyrian!-, her older son remembered with a pride look, raising a finger.

-Who cares dude?-, Joff huffed, and he looked at him with boredom.

Rhaenyra chuckles, showing her teeth.

-And...! besides, Daera and I must be well rested for our trip back on the morrow-, she mentions, pressing her lips into a positive smile.

-Ah, right-. Baela sighed, remembering that.

-Cheers-. Eye-closed, Daera raised her cup towards her step-mother, who giggled and raised hers as well.

The Rogue Princess headed her goblet to her mouth, and drank from it with slowness. A strong wine is what she sips.

She barely slept, last night. During the flight home, on Kalistrox's back, she held back any crying or sorrow that wanted to leave her soul, for her siblings and father were fying near her, and she wouldn't have an explanation for them. After arriving to Dragonstone, kissing Kalistrox a couple of times, and having a quick talk with her family, the princess left to her rooms. In there, the walls of her chambers witnessed the brown-haired girl going insane into a deep hurted cry, hugged to her knees, in the bed, with the wounds of her arms hurting intensely.

Daera did nothing but weep and think, think and weep. Thank the gods the lack of sleep is excuse enough to justify the bags under her violet eyes, and her unusual silence. Truth be told, the princess is sad. Too much of a kind word for what she is truly feeling, perhaps, but it works.

As much as she ran around in her mind, she ran only in circles. More than anything, Daera just repeated, time after time, that meeting in Lovers Island, with Aemond. The worst of their meetings, the saddest of them, no doubt. The things he did, the things he said, the hate getting hold of him. It was...devastating to see, even more to feel. The princess's thoughts, too tired to really pay mind to it, have just reminded her of the facts, but haven't reflected on them.

Not everything is bad, at the least, for she always finds extreme comfort in her family. Of course they don't know a damn thing about any of what she's feeling or what she went through last night, but their mere presences and acompanies makes her heart to feel lighter. That's the reason why she prefered to come with them to their seat, even for a day, because she knew she'd feel easier in here. But a praise to Helaena, any ways, and her children, who never fail to make her feel better. However, Daera needed this day, to calmly take in what happened, and, to be deeply honest...to not see Aemond's face, not before she has her thoughts clear. She has the right of space. Angriness wouldn't have made anything better, were she to stay in The Red Keep.

This morning, indeed, she feels easier than last long night. Either ways, she is extremely tired, and her chest still aches, as well as the absence of the imaginary feeling of someone in her belly. She wants to know nothing of teas, perhaps why she is making company to her breakfast with wine. Well, there may be more than one reason to that.

Silently, Jace looks at his wife while he chews some good sausages the new girl, Dyana, cooked for them all. Daera is wearing long sleeves, covering the wounds only the siblings know about. He sees her sipping from her drink for some long seconds, not taking even one breath. He's not surprised by her drinking skills, for he is used to them.

The brown-haired prince is constantly wondering, in his mind, about her weird actitude of last night. First, she was all over him. May the gods forgive him, but he really thought he would deflower his manhood for the first time. But right the next second, after that strange shake the room felt, she just ran away, and left him alone, with no proper explanation. The young man wonders if he did something wrong.

-He's back!-, Joffrey yelled with a big smile, making everyone to turn around their heads.

When they look, they find prince Daemon already returning to them. He has a big cocky smile on his lips, a special shine on his crazy eyes, and a big leather bag on his hands, causing instant curious gazes from his family. Rhaenyra pressed her lips into a proud smile, already knowing what he brings with him.

-What's that?-. Baela asks, curious, while her older sister places her empty cup in the table, sighing.

-Hehehe-, Daemon snorts a cocky laugh, placing the bag in the table, adding a heavy weight to it. Rhaena raised her eyebrows, surprised, and shared a glance with Luke.

-Is that the new rain-coat I wanted?!-, an excited Joffrey stands from his seat, running towards his step-father's side.

-I do not believe rain-coats are that heavy, Joff-. Jacaerys laughed with easiness.

-Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?-. Joffrey hisses without even looking at him. His siblings around the table laughed while Jace stopped smiling, opening his hands with bemusement.

-You beast-, Daemon snorts chuckles, patting the boy's head, and he smiled up at him-. Nah, this is better-. He shrugged, starting to open the bag.

Automatically, everybody leaned front in their chairs, interested. Daera blinks with her head tilted, curious. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra chuckled lowly, and stood up from her chair, slowly heading towards Rhaena's.

Seconds then, both of Daemon's hands bring out something from the bag. Not some thing. Of silver scales, and blue reflects, a dragon-egg is what The Rogue Prince holds.

-Ha...-, he sighs, smiling. All of his children went mute, opening their eyes big, in shock.

-Oh my gods-. Luke whispers, shocked.

Rhaena opens her mouth hugely, feeling her eyes shining. Rhaenyra places herself behind her chair, smiling excited. Daera gags a laugh, and looked at her younger sister, as well as Baela did, mouth-opened.

-That is not a rain coat-. Jace whispers, and Joffrey faded away his surprised expression to look at him with cringe.

-Syrax's?-, Daera asks, bemused, staring at the silver-pale dragon egg.

-Ye'-, Daemon nods with pride, carefully placing it in the table. He side-eyes Rhaena for a second, looking at her shiny eyes. He chuckles, and then all the mouths fall again when another egg was taken out of the bag.

-Holy...!-, Joff gasps, jumping excited.

-Another one?-. Luke sighs, smiling, turning to look at his betrothed. Rhaena looks so beautiful, he thinks, blinking with hope and surprise, she is.

This one is brown, nearly as brown as one of the wild dragons from the island, Sheepstealer. Its color is pure, and almost alive, shining in the hands of The Rogue Prince.

Daera draws a smile on her face, an honest one, staring at the eggs with fascination, as well as the others are. The last egg all of them ever saw was many years ago, Tyraxes's. Until him, no egg had been layed. Until now.

-Hold your breath-, Daemon mumbles with taunt, looking again into the bag. And, indeed, they all held their breaths.

Rhaena breathed in deeply, afflicting her throat. She felt some warm hands placing on her shoulders, and she laughs, taking them both and hugging them to her chest, knowing they were Rhaenyra's. Her step-mother, behind her chair, giggles with excitement.

The youngest girl of the family slowly raised her brows, when she sees a third egg taken out of the bag. This one is of pink shiny scales, with a few of black glimming around its structure. It reflects the sun perfectly, blinding the Targaryen family with marvel.

-Gods...-, Rhaena whispers, shocked.

-A pink dragon!-. Baela muttered, smiling hugely.

-This is Aegon's-. Daemon places his hand above the silver egg. They immediately smiled, looking at each other-. Viserys's...-, he touches the brown one-, and...-. He grabs the pink egg, playing with it between his hands.

-Father, careful!-. Daera shrieks raising her brows.

-Catch!-. Burlesque, Daemon throws the egg, and it ended right in Rhaena's hands. The girl gasps, looking down at it with her mouth open-. There you have-, he mumbled, looking away with a smile.

The family does not wait a second to start cheering, more than excited. Rhaena laughs with no breath while her siblings clap and yell, happy for her and their baby brothers. Daera whistled and clashed her cup five times, shaking the table, having a smile on her face.

Rhaenyra cheered with laughs and clappings, seeing how speechless the girl is. The mother's heart of hers can not be happier for her, or for her lovely twin sons. Now she can't wait to see them all ruling the skies along their siblings.

Daemon closes a smile, looking down at the table, and playing with a fork.

-Father, may I hold Aegon's egg?-. Joffrey babbles, mesmerized, as he approaches to it, opening his arms towards the silver one in the table.

-Uh uh uh-, Daemon pulls back the neck of his shirt, and the boy tsked.

Rhaena sighs, caressing the egg with her thumbs, looking at it with the brightest shine on her eyes. She is surprised, thrilled, nervous, all at once! After all this years, and one unhatched egg, she has hope again, and a chance. A chance to be like the rest of them. Finally.

-I hope you don't wait until I die, and claim Caraxes instead, hehe-. Daemon mumbled under his breath, amused.

Rhaena started to fade her smile away, blinkless, instantly remembering the days she was waiting for claiming Vhagar, after her mom died. The other ones turned to look at him with big eyes, not believing that he really joked about that.

-What the fuck?-, Daera talks, bemused. Nyra gulps, caressing her belly.

-It was a jest, why do you say "what the fuck"?-. Daemon's sharp and desinterested voice talks back at her, as he shrugges, smiling. Luke breathes deeply, turning to look at Rhaena with worriness. She is blankly blinking, staring at her pink egg-. That one will hatch -, he assures, pointing at it.

-And what if it doesn't?-. Rhaena's answer took them by surprise. Baela sucks her lips, nervous, while their father turned to look at the youngest with his brows up, honestly confused-. What if it doesn't hatch, father?-. She asks, and her voice broke a little. Daera clenches her fists at the sides of her body, curving her brows-. Just as my previous one never did-, she pointed with shame.

-Well I shall hope that does not happen!-, her father answered with taunt and a sharp voice, opening his eyes big towards her. Rhaena sniffed her nose, afflicting her throat.

-Daemon-, Rhaenyra calls with cautioness.

-Father!-, Baela hisses.

Within a second, Rhaena stood up from her chair, with her lips tightly pressed and the egg hugged to her chest. The girl, ashamed and embarrased, turned around and began to walk away with long quick steps. Her siblings flinched, worried.

Daemon scoffs, turning around to seeing her leaving.

-You have no dragon and you complain! Now you have an egg and complain as well! Brilliant!-, he hisses through the distance, raising his thin brows. Luke clenched his teeth, looking at him with angriness.

-LEAVE ME AT PEACE!-. Rhaena suddenly roared, turning around to look at him. At the second of seeing her tears, her siblings stood up, more than worried. Daemon opens his lips, not having expected that-. I will never be a dragonrider, as your favourite daughters are!-. The girl let a sad thought of her to leave her mouth, yelling it with despair and shame.

-Rhaena-, Baela flinches, immediately leaving the table, being followed by a worried Luke.

-Wait!-, Joffrey shoots out running too.

Daemon remains with his lips opened, not having expected such fuss from the children. He looked at Rhaena's embarrased tears before she'd turn around and kept walking down the hill. The prince blinks, and then sees his older daughter and older step-son walking past him.

-Hells, father, hells!-. Daera grunted, side-eyeing him while running with Jace at her side.

-It was a joke!-, Daemon hisses with annoyment, tsking his tongue and not looking at them anymore.

-A mean one-. His wife reproached him with a serious look, crossing her hands over her belly. He sighs, looking at her.

-So what?-, he mumbles, shrugging-. Rhaena has to learn to endure hard things, being dragonless haven't helped her at all in that-. He raises his brows, shaking his head.

-She's our daughter, Daemon, she doesn't has to "endure hard things"!-. Rhaenyra yelled with obviousness, bemused, boping her head.

The Rogue Prince blinks, and then scratches his neck, letting out a sharp low laugh with no fun in it. Fuck, he just wants a dragon for all of his children. Is that a crime?

■ ■ ■

In The Red Keep, all servant, maiden and cook has been led to the dungeons, or at least those who know about the deceased King, to prevent them fron spreading the fact. A smart manevour, orquested by Lord Larys The Clubfoot.

Last night, King Viserys I of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, closed his eyes and went to sleep after his wife attended to him. He never woke. He was fifty-two years old, and had reigned over most of Westeros for twenty-six years.

The King is dead...and his succession about to be toyed with.

In the chambers of the now Dowager Queen Alicent, she is walking from side to another, in circles, from the windows to the doors, constantly scratching her nails with nerves and anxiety. She expects for nothing but to have her firstborn, Aegon, delivered to her presence already.

And, with her in the room, is her second son. Aemond is seated by the fireplace, not moving a single muscle, looking at the flames with a thoughtful eye and his right hand under his chin.

After he arrived to the chambers, and felt the heavy air on it, he adviced Helaena to be out of it, which she heartily agreed with, going to her children within a second. The princess knew something weird was happening, and she wanted to know the less possible of it. Her younger brother, on the other hand, closed the doors behind him, and did not wait a second to ask his mother what happened.

Lady Alicent told him everything, as sorrowful as a widow should be, and as nervous as a rooster sent to the guillotine.

-Your father...passed away in the night, Aemond-. She whispered to him with a thin voice.

The one-eyed did nothing but gulp. No tear came up to his gaze, nor his heart stopped beating with despair, waiting for more. It is like he didn't truly heard what she said, or he simply didn't care.

-He...-, Alicent gulped in that moment, holding his hands in hers as he watched her with his brows furrowed-...he told me he wished for Aegon to be King-. Her mother whispered, honesty shining n her teary eyes.

That news he did not expect it. At all. He felt all kinds of feelings, from surprise to fear, from jealousy to even a brief joy. No matter how much he felt, he was toothless, and couldn't even say a proper word in that moment, to shocked for it. When he breathed in, convinced that his mother was telling the truth, and that this is their reality now, he planned to finally speak. But, then, she let out another news, this one frightening, and scary.

-Your grandfather, The Hand, wishes to impress upon your brother that Rhaenyra must be put to the sword, in Dragonstone-. Alicent muttered with extreme anxiety, holding his arms tightly-, and the whole of her family as well, to prevent challenges on Aegon's succession-, she feared, gulping.

In that moment, Aemond nearly fainted, opening his eye big and holding even tighter to his mom's grasp. Neither his mind nor heart cared about his uncle, Daemon, or the children of the island. Much less he cared about his half-sister. Is Aegon king, or must we kiss the whore's cunny?, he would have thought to himself with taunt, if his soul didn't immediately feared for the life of his love, Daera.

Daera is Rhaenyra and Daemon's heir, along Jace, for they both would sit The Iron Throne after them, so they would doubtlessly be killed if Otto Hightower sent his guards to Dragonstone, to leave no possible challenger. The One-Eyed Prince nearly didn't hide his horror, and almost cried right in front of his mother when only listening to the possibility of his love being murdered, away from him and alone. But, for his sake, Alicent unconsciously calmed that fear in him.

-Aegon is to rule, and he won't do it by unsavory rules-, the Dowager Queen dictated as firm as she could, raising her brows while looking at her son's eye-. There is no one more cursed than the kinslayer-, she muttered with a religious fear, and then gulped-...We must find him first-. She stated.

Now, mother and son wait for the arriving of Aegon, who Ser Criston went looking for in the behalf of the prince's mom. Alicent keeps walking around, growing everytime more nervous amd impatient. Aemond, as quiet and silent he look in the fireplace, may bbe perhaps even more unquiet than ber.

In his head rules a hurricane stronger than the famous ones of Storm's End.

-What about Daeron?-. His husky voice suddenly asked, while his eye stayed fixated on the fire.

When hearing her youngest son be named, Alicent's heart tucked, and her belly ached a little. Oh, when her dearest boy hears about the decease of his father. As well as her other children, he may have not been to close with him, but he for sure was the kindest and joyest one towards him. A ray of sun, her boy.

-What about him?-, Alicent mumbles, playing with her nails.

-Isn't he to know about The King's death? Won't he be coming to the coronation?-. Aemond asks, blinkless, seeming like he isn't even listening to himself. To be honest, he just wants to distract his mind from the image of Daera being chopped in two by some kingsguard's sword.

-We cannot send ravens yet, no-. His mother answered, shaking her head as she walks-. Besides, the flight is too long, he wouldn't arrive in time-. Alicent says-. He...he may make it to your father's funeral, maybe-. She plans with nervous and thoughtful mumbles.

Aemond hums, blinking once. His mind, then, thinks about Rhaenys. Daera's grandmother is locked in her very chambers, in the castle. A part of him wants to smile, to be honest, for he doesn't pity her at all. But, again, she is his wife's grandmothers and, over that...she has an adult dragon, more than fitting to their side.

The prince was about to ask about princess Rhaenys as well, but the doors of the chambers are suddenly open, making his mother to nearly gasp before the sound.

She quickly turned around, while he kept staring at the fireplace, gripping his jaw for a second. It is Ser Criston who arrives, entering to the room and closing the doors after him.

-Prince Aegon's not to be found within the castle walls, Your Grace-. The knights talks with his usual neutrality-. Your father has sent Ser Erryk into the city to find him-, he informs, walking closer to her.

Alicent looked down, sighing. When hearing that, Aemond get his hand away from his chin, pressing his lips while staring into the fire.

-Ser Erryk knows Aegon, he has the advantage-. The Queen speaks with heaviness, and her eyes closed.

The prince turns his head, glancing at the knight. Ser Criston immediately looked back at him, with seriousness, clearly waiting something from his best pupil, and Aegon's brother. Reading that gaze, Aemond blinks and simply stares front again, thoughtful.

Alicent breathed in with deepness, opening her eyes as she approaches to her Sworn Protector.

-I trust again to you, Ser Criston, and to your loyalty...-. She starts talking to him, raising her brows-. Aegon must be found, and he must be brought to me-. She commands, with the worriness of both a Queen and a mother-. The very fate of the Seven Kingdoms depends on it-, Alicent declares.

Aemond blinks slowly, looking at the fire. His mother mumbled something else to Criston, but he did not listen, sinked in his mind. He doesn't fear Ser Erryk's work as much as his mother does, for he has seen how easy is for him to lose his brother of sight. The Cargyll knight has no advantage. He does, he who has gone to the city with Aegon himself.

He can not stay in here, he will not, seated in the fireplace while his grandfather plans to kill his wife, and his brother is somewhere in Flea Bottom, as irresponsible as always, most probably drunk.

If someone is to find Aegon for his mother, for The Kingdoms, and for his own sake, is he himself. This is his chance, to everything.

-I'll come with you-. Aemond decides with a soft tone, calmly staring at the fire, remembering for a second the boiling Moon Tea of last night.

-Aemond!-, Daera's broken voice calls his name in the middle of her sips. He ignored it.

The worried voice of his mother came out immediately.

-That would not be my desire, Aemond-. Alicent denied while she quickly walked to him, shaking her head.

Hearing her steps coming closer, Aemond firmly stands up from his chair, humming from deep his throat. He calmly turns around to find his mother approaching with her lips parted.

-If anything has happened...-, she fears, softly grabbing her son's arms. He stood in front of her, raising his right hand to hold her elbow, giving it a tender grip.

-Cole needs me, mother-. He stated with no doubt, opening his eye big-. Ser Erryk isn't the only one who knows Aegon's doings-, the prince sofly says to his mom, keeping a calm face while talking to her.

Alicent leaves her lips open, blinking with doubt, turning to look at the knight, who nodded at her in silence. Aemond keeps staring at his mother for a few more seconds, reading her beautiful worried face, but knowing that there is no need for it, for he knows what he's doing. She'll see.

Aferwards, The One-Eyed Prince gives a last grip to his mom's elbow, and then he turns around, walking out of the room while his mane bounces in his back with every step he takes. He was followed by Ser Criston, who took a last glance to The Queen before walking behind her son.

Aemond struts with firmness and a serious face, nodding to himself. He'll find Aegon, save Daera's life, and protect his family.

■ ■ ■

The Sworn Protector of the Dowager Queen Alicent took off his armour and white cloak, changing them for some peasant stinking clothes. The One-Eyed Prince followed the same path, wearing something more discreet, and hiding his silver mane under a grey hood.

Both man still carry their swords with them, matters to point.

The prince, after a silent ponder in his rooms, took off his black leather eyepatch, and instead put on the fur one, the one he used to wear before his wife, Daera, would gift him the other one in their wedding night. This is the first time he changes it since. He did it because some sort of...sentimentalism, and respect.

Aemond understands what he is about to do. He'll look for Aegon, to install him as King and Protector of the Realm. This goes against all of Daera's politic and moral believings, he knows, and it may be even personal...for the succession of Aegon will mean that she no longer will inherit the throne with Jacaerys.

But, gods, it is too complicated to think of now. He changed the eyepatch, done. He has a job to do. And he has to do it quick.

The bells toil, the dogs bark, and the people talk around all of Flea Bottom. The town, as we so much know it, is a narrow dirty place full of alleys, beggars, whores, and whatnot.

And here is that Aemond has lead himself and Ser Criston, for he knows how much his older brother enjoys the dirtiness, obscenity and the lewdness of this city. He came down to it with him, barely two days ago, when they went to the beach for The Festival of Visenya.

The one-eyed sees the beach as a potential place to find Aegon but, however, he has decided to try with a nearer place instead. That is why he pointed Ser Criston towards this lustful and full-of-whores place. You know where this is.

-Aemond brought me to the Street of Silk on my thirteenth name day-. Aemond's voice goes narrating, walking through narrow opaque street-. It was his duty as my brother, he said, to ensure I was as "educated as he was"-, he says with a hoarse tone, remembering that day.

He could not believe himself when he also remembered the day he told that story to Daera. He recalls it perfectly. Two years ago, the first time they made love in the castle, still on her visit on Helaena's wedding week.

-You were abused-, Daera whispered thinly, looking at him with sad violet eyes.

He hadn't remember that moment ages ago, until now. The prince misses her.

But this are times of actions, not of remember. So, after gulping strongly, he opened his lips and grabbed the handle of a door, giving a slow blink when thinking back to that day with Aegon.

-At least that's what...-, he blinks again-...I understood him to mean-. Aemond adds, nearly siding a smirk, and then he knocked the door three times.

Ser Criston, who has kept silence, looks at him with a listening expression, soon raising his brows while looking at the door.

-I don't follow-, he confesses, speaking lowly. The prince nearly rolls his eyes, boping his head.

-He said "Time to get it wet"-. Aemond quotes Aegon with a burlesque tone, leaning front to the knight.

Criston's face immediately scrunched with disgust as he looked away from him.

-Every woman is an image of The Mother-. Cole points with seriousness, straightening his shoulders and taking a glance around-, to be spoken of with reverence-. He dictates, taking the handle, and knocking again three more times.

Aemond only looks down, sucking one of his cheeks. His mind went back, again, to that day two years ago, when he told Daera the tale. He can't believe he is back in this place, where he was so much humilliated.

Not the knight nor the prince were aware that Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk walked in a street close to theirs. The Cargyll twins also go without their white cloaks, dressed as commonfolks as they go around in the search of prince Aegon, only that by orders of The Hand, not The Queen.

Ser Erryk has a strange feeling in his heart, knowing that he is looking for his prince for a great purpose. He'll be make King of The Seven Kingdoms. Aegon. The one he has been the sworn protector of for years and years. He knows him. And that's why this scares him.

In the Street of Silk, the door of the brothel is finally opened, and in that moment, Aemond felt a bucket of cold water falling over him when he sees the woman who came from inside. The one who deflowered him, on his 13th name day. The one who Aegon payed to for her to do so. The one who faked her orgasm. Oh, fucks... Her name is Leby, he remembers.

The prince instantly looks down, while Ser Criston gifted the woman a small smile.

-Good morrow, good friend-. The knight greets.

The woman, blue-eyed, brown-haired, and much older than the both of them, rests an elbow in the door, and a hand on her wrist, furrowing a curious smirk into her lips, looking at them.

-And what is that you two would like, at this young hours?-. She asks with a playful honeyed voice, eyeing the brown-haired. Aemond gulps, looking at his shoes.

-Nothing but an answer, if perhaps you may help us-. Ser Criston answered, crossing his hands on his abdomen. Leby blinks, keeping that smirk.

-The question-. She asks for, moving a hand in the air. Cole eyes Aemond, who quickly glanced at him, slowly looking up again.

-Sometime last night, we...misplaced our drinking companion-. Criston speaks to her, making up a story within a second-. Knowing that he has been, in the past, a patron of your fine establishment, we thought to inquire here as to his whereabouts-, he questions, tilting his head.

Cole, actually, had no idea of this brothel before. Aemond just suddenly stopped walking here and knocked the door, and he trusted his prince. It was not hard, then, to make the story.

Leby stays with her lips open, wondering why he had to use so much words just to ask such a simple question.

-And describe him-, she asks with obviousness, opening a hand.

The brown-haired clenches his jaw for a second. The hooded one stares at the woman with a blinkless eyes, remembering what she did to him that day. He is ashamed to confess he did not faked his orgasm, as she totally did.

-That is a delicate matter-, Criston talks between his teeth, and then he leans front towards her. Aemond immediately presses his lips and rolls his eye, looking away-. You see, the man we seek is the young Prince Aegon-. He confesses into a soft whisper. Leby blinked in that moment, turning to look at him with her lips parted, listening closely, and now understanding why he speaks to sophisticatedly-. I may trust, I hope, in the discretion of your trade-, he mutters.

The woman chuckled in that moment, confusing both man.

-The Prince is not here-, she answered, way too confident. Aemond furrows his brows, and clenches his teeth, wondering if she is lying of if Aegon truly is not at the place. Where does he gets his whores, then?

-Has he been here?-. Criston questions, stepping back, and talking normally again-. Earlier, perhaps?-. He shrugged.

-Quite a bit earlier-, Leby answered, almost burlesque-. Years ago, in fact-. She adds, turning her blue gaze towards the hooded man.

It is not uncommon to see maimed people walking around Flea Bottom. Street fights are an usual thing, and people are always losing arms, tongues, or eyes. But now she knows this is not some one-eyed of the town. No no, of course, if they are looking for prince Aegon, then this is obviously prince Aemond, his maimed brother. She remembers him, his bone structure and his pointy jaw. He had a capable cock for his age, she recalls, but null knowledge on how to use it.

When her eyes fell on him, Aemond looked down, licking his lips and then making a nervous pout with them, avoiding her gaze.

-But more recently?-, Criston asks, oblivious of the meaning of this woman to the prince.

-He does not frequent the Street of Silk-. She clarified, looking back at him.

When she looked away, Aemond's eye slowly came up again, traveling on her body from toe to head, recalling the things he felt that day with her, when he was still a child. She is so older...and yet he still enjoyed her. Was something wrong with him?

-His tastes are known to be...less discriminating-. Leby pointed, giving a slow blink. Aemond wonders what is that supposed to mean.

-Meaning what?-, Criston asks as well.

But she just tsks her lips, widening her smirk.

-I wish you luck, good Ser-. Leby smirks at him, looking at his eyes-. And my best to your friend-, she tauntly says, pointing at Aemond without even glancing at him for a second.

Until she suddenly did, turning her head at him. Aemond, with his eye big open, bow his head slowly, not looking at her. He felt helpless, unable to say a word.

Serious, Ser Criston only turns around, walking away from the stablishment. Aemond stood his ground, and Leby finally had the chance to eye him from head to toe, calmly smirking, and looking into his eye.

-How you've grown...-, she mumbled, tauntly, and coquettishly. Leby won't lie to herself. The prince is already a man, and she's sure she wouldn't have to fake an orgasm if she were to fuck with him again.

Aemond stares straight at her, with no more hiding, narrowing his eye. He felt his bones chilling and, to himself, he thought how his wife would definitely have this woman burned alive if she saw her mock towards him.

Perhaps it makes no sense to think about Daera in this moment, but the single mention of her name in his mind can bring him some peace, before the shame and discomfort this woman has over him.

The One-Eyed Prince stares at her, nearly beginning to smirk.

-Hmm-, he hums, stepping back, and quickly turning around after giving her a last glance at her.

Leby stays in the door, closing her mouth after being about to ask him to stay, but he left too fast.

Aemond goes away from that brothel, walking with his gaze down as his lips pressed. He chews on them, looking at the floor while he walks. Shame and embarrassment take hold of him, recalling again, the day he was abused. That is what that was.

And here he is. Looking for the one who led him to that, who paid for that. Looking for him, to put a crown on his head.

■ ■ ■

What is a king, with no crown? What is a conqueror, with no land to conquer? What is a god, with no believers? What is a Targaryen...with no dragon?

Rhaena has had a rough path. Baela's dragon was born to her, and Daera's bravery made her claim an ancient beast. The youngest girl, to her father's disappointment, was owner of nothing but a unhatched dragon-egg.

But, as the gods have blessed her this morning, now she holds a pink dragon egg into her soft brown hands. However, besides her excitement, and hope, she is sinked in fear, and nerves. She doesn't want to keep being The Rogue Prince's disappointment. She just...can't take it.

Since she has use of memory, one of her main goal, if not the mainest, has been to be her father's pride. And what has she gained him? A failed hatchling. His daughter, rogueless, scared of claiming a dragon.

-This one will hatch, Rhaena...-. A soft whisper came from Luke's pink lips.

The girl sighs through her nose, closing her eyes as she caresses the egg with her thumbs.

She is, at the moment, in her rooms. And with her, her siblings. She is seated in the edge of the bed, Luke at her left, Jace at her right, Baela seated in a chair in front of the bed, with Daera and Joffrey standing besides her. All of them have been comforting her since they left the breakfast table.

-You know you don't have to listen to father, sometimes he is full of shit-. Daera insisted with her brows up, having her arms crossed over her chest.

-Exactly-, Jace agreed into a thin whisper, caressing his younger sister's back.

-Mother always used to tell us how you were going to be an awesome dragonrider, do you not remember?-. Baela smiles proudly, raising her brows. Inevitably, Rhaena smiled at the single mention of their mom. And, having a reaction as well, Daera huffed a sad laugh, briefly touching her belly.

-And you will be!-, Joffrey nods with full confidence, jumping on his place. All of his siblings laugh, looking at him-. You'll be riding your dragon before Luke ever makes a good joke!-, he promises.

-Yeah-, Lucerys agrees while the others chuckle, then he blinks-. Wait!-, he furrowed his brows.

-I said what I said-, Joff shrugged.

Rhaena sighs, opening her eyes to stare at the pink egg. It is so majestic, beautiful and matchless. Who has ever seen a pink dragon?

-When you least expect it, you'll be ruling the skies with all of us, in your dragon-. Jacaerys promised with all of his heart, smiling at her. And when Rhaena pictured that, her eyes shined, and she smiled back at him, almost with surprised, in love with the idea.

-All of us-, the girl dreams.

-...Together-. Jace nods, proudly. Daera sides a thoughtful smirk, staring at him with a soft dearness. He is an awesome older brother.

-Hey!-. Luke holds one of Rhaena's hands, and she turned to look at him with shiny eyes, not sad anymore-. Would like to go pet Arrax?-, he proposes, smiling.

-Yes, of course!-. She immediately answered, raising her brows with excitement. Her betrothed chuckles, doing the same.

-Here-. Giggling, Baela stands up from her chair, taking Rhaena's eggs off her lap, holding it carefully-. You go with Arrax, then-. She smiles at them.

-Yes!-. Joffrey claps as Luke and her betrothed stood up from the bed, holding hands, and walking towards the doors while giggling.

-Have fun-, Daera mumbles funnily while watching them go. Jaces eyes her for a second.

-Rhaena, Rhaena, Rhaena!-. Joff begins to cheer with jumps and claps, repeating her name time after time. That made them to chuckle with confussion-. Rhaena, Rhaena, Rhaena!-, he keeps yelling.

-What?-. Laughing, Rhaena peeks her head through the door, for Lucerys and her walked back when hearing him.

-Rhaenaaa!-, Joffrey chuckles, so tenderly. Baela curves her brows, smiling.

-Are you going to waste our sister's name, little tamer?-. Daera asks funnily, walking to him to caress his brown mane. Rhaena laughs, tilting her head.

-No!-, the boy laughs, looking up at her with dearness. The way he looks at his sisters is the loveliest-. I learned to scream someone's name when you are excited for them-. He shows off, confident.

His siblings laugh, glancing at each other between them.

-And where did you learn that, Joff?-. Lucerys questions with a funny smile.

-Yesterday in the afternoon, after Lady Beesbury gave me cake!-. The boy smiles-. When I heard Jace screaming Daera's name with no stop when they were in her chambers-, he remembers, casually. In that moment, everybody froze-. He sounded very happy-, Joffrey adds. The siblings gasp, airless, shocked-. Too happy, actually, WAY too hap-

-Enough, Joff!-. Jacaerys flinched, almost falling off the bed, as red as a tomato.

Luke and Rhaena blink in shock, while Baela is speechless, looking at both Jace and Daera. He is nearly hyperventilating, and she quickly corrected the boy.

-No no no, we were doing bad things, don't go around saying that, okay?!-. Daera bends her body to raise her brows towards Joffrey, who simply smiled at her.

-Oh my gods-, Rhaena whispered, slowly turning around.

-Did they...?-, Luke whispers, turning too.

-Oh my gods-, she says the same, leaving the room with him.

-What bad things?-, Joff innocently asks. Jace covers his mouth, his cheeks all red, sharing a quick glance with Baela, who looked at him with a doubty expression, gulping.

-Adult things-. Daera clarified, blinkless.

-Works for me-. Joffrey shrugged with a smile.

-Uhhh, why don't we go to read something, Joff?-. Baela approaches to him with a nervous smile, offering him a hand. Daera sighs, stressed, scratching her forehead.

-Why?-, the boy asks.

-Good dragonriders always read-, Baela quickly answered, raising her brows.

-Ha, works for me too!-. Joffrey walks excitedly to her, holding her hand and beginning to walk with her.

Baela gulps, glancing at them for a second, finding their ashamed looks. She just laughed, shocked, and walked out of the room with the boy, leaving them alone, at Rhaena's chambers.

Jace presses his lips, giving a slow blink, and then turning to look at his wife. He finds her already staring at him, tired, arms crossed.

The prince gulps, wondering if this is the right time to ask her about last night's events. The princess, on the other hand, gulped when she noticed he was about to do so.

-Daera, I want to ask you something...-he speaks lowly.

-Well it cannot be now, I'm afraid-. She immediately smiles, making him to furrow his brows-. You must go to your High Valyrian lessons, mustn't you?-. The princess asks, tilting her head.

-Yes, indeed, I shall go to them-. Jacaerys sighs, slowly standing up from the bed. She crosses her arms tighter, looking at him-. But, first...-, he starts to whisper.

-Besides, I am too tired-. Daera interrupted him along a sigh, shaking her head. He opens his lips, bemused-. I think I'll go to sleep again, for a while, alright?-. She smiles with weakness, heading to the door without even waiting for an answer-. Alright? Alright-, she mumbled, walking out of the room-. Good luck with the lessons!-, her voice echoed in the hallway.

-Daera!-, he tries to insist.

-Good luck, Jace!-. She stressed, and then she closed her eyes, exhausted, covering her face while walking.

Jacaerys stays by himself in the chambers. Nervously, he clenches his fists and blinks slowly, noticing that Daera is obviously ignoring him, or well, ignoring the subject.

He is truly starting to fear he may be the problem. Jace is almost absolutely sure that he did something wrong last night. It must have been that! Because what else would be keeping Daera so...not-Daera-like?

■ ■ ■

-It seems you were mistaken as to Aegon's habits-, Ser Criston talks with some heaviness, looking around.

He and the prince walk through another street, the tenth they have walked through perhaps, finding no one with a silver mane. Aemond pressed his lips, a little unfazed.

-He could be in the hands of mercenaries, on a ship to Yi Ti...-, the prince starts to point possibilities, not letting himself to be perceived as useless-. He could be dead-, he added, heartlessly.

-Let us hope, for your mother's sake, that is not the case-. Criston answered with his tone of respect, glancing into one of the million alleys of Flea Bottom.

Aemond keeps walking in silence, thinking. To be honest, he is starting to grow nervous, big time. How do they know his grandfather hasn't found Aegon already? How do they know a ship hasn't already sailed from Blackwater Bay to The Gullet and beyond, to arrive at Dragonstone's shores, and kill his Daera Targaryen, and the extras? How do they know Aegon is even alive, or well? Fuck! How would Aegon care of one single thing in his life?

It is not Aemond's fault that is brother is a scoundrel, a drunken and a cheater. And yet here he is, walking around the ugliness of Flea Bottom, desperately find him to finally out an end to his mother's worries, to finally secure his family by putting him in that iron chair, to finally ease his heart and nerves on the abouts of the safeness of his wife. All depends of Aegon. Everybody is looking for him, pleading for him to appeaer. This is the first time so many people want to see him.

And that is when it hits him. All this fuss for Aegon, this loss of time and extreme uncertainty. All that Aegon ever brings is glum and disappointment. It would be idiotoc to pray for this time to be the exception. It is idiotic, to put these high expectations on him. He, Aemond, is the one they should be looking for.

What has he done, but to prove himself worthy, capable and smart? Were it him the one in Aegon's place, there would be no more dithering, no more search parties. As soon as Viserys The Peaceful would have breathed his last breath, Aemond Targaryen would have took his crown, and placed it over his head without even blinking. He would have sent terms to Dragonstone, true terms, such that Daera and her lot would take no shame in accept. And Daera...

Prince Aemond's eye shined from a moment to another, when he and Ser Criston turned in a corner, and an alley from the distance catched his eye. An ugly one, just as the others. But that one...that one is where his love story with The Rogue Princess ignited, as the warmest of fires. He hadn't seen it since that night...until this day. Two years later. His breath abandoned him, as he took this as nothing less than a sign of The Seven.

Were he Lord of The Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, his word would be law. He would order a Valyrian steel sword to be made for him, and he'd call it Justice. He would enssure peace, and prosperity. All that, with a more than fitting Queen seated on his knees, in The Iron Throne. Daera Targaryen. He would take her as wife, immediately, and no one would be able to do something about it? She's married to the Heir to The Iron Throne, Jacaerys? No longer, for he'll be heir of nothing but the memory of a lie. Daera would marry the man sitting The iron Throne, him, after he had a septon to undo her union with the bastard.

He would wed her, again, this time under the eyes of The Seven. The wholeness of the Seven Kingdoms watching them, their dragons flying above their heads. Dowager Queen Alicent, his mother, would crown her as Queen of The Seven Kingdoms. She would give her a chance, place four kisses in her cheeks, and call her "daughter", after exchanging declarations of love. And they, she and him, could have children, dozens of them...and they wouldn't have to fear for them, nor hide them.

But why is he dreaming for, if he's still searching for Aegon?

Aemond clenches his fists at the sides of his body, clenching his jaw as well when his older brother, the to-be King, comes back to his mind. No, no, no. He glances at Ser Criston, seeing how silently he walks. He wonders if his trainer since childhood is also doubting of Aegon as their right choosing of king.

Only a way to find out.

-Here I am, trawling the city, ever the good soldier, in search of a wastrel who's never taken half an interest in his birthright-, Aemond speaks with a sharp and nearly annoyed tone, cold.

That made Ser Criston to stop, turning around with a curious and confused gaze. Wasn't Aemond the one who insisted, in the first place, to come looking for his brother? When he looks at him, he finds that the prince also halted his walking, standing firmly in front of him.

Aemond gulps, eyeing the door of that stall where Daera, Helaena and the others danced with their masks on, a long time ago, drinking and balling with no stop. His wife's laugh echoed in his mind, making his fists to clench tighter under his coat.

-'Tis I the younger brother who studies history and philosophy, it is I who trains with the sword, who rides the largest dragon in the world, it is I who should be--...-, the prince cut his own words, pressing his lips and then licking them, only to press them again, after having spoken fastly.

As soon as Aemond interrupted himself, he looked towards the alley, seeing it right besides the stall. Meanwhile, Criston sighs through his nose, approaching to him, causing him to look again.

-I know what it is to toil for what others are freely given-, the knight comforts him, crossing his arms behind his back.

-Hmm-, Aemond makes a quick face, lifting a side of his lips and then looking away again, finding no comfort in his words. One more time, he fixates his eye on that alley, staring endlessly at it-...And we can't find him, Cole-. He points, serious.

Criston blinks, and then turns his head around with his brows curved, wondering about what was the prince was looking so much at. He only found a dirty dark alley.

-We are decent men, with no taste for depravity-. Aemond states, speaking firnly, feeling his heart beating with wildness-. His secrets are his own...and he's welcomed to them-, he softly adds, clearly not caring about finding his brother, at least not today, not for this.

Aemond breathes in and quickly approaches closer to his mentor.

-I'm next in line to the throne-. The One-Eyed Prince states with a husky whisper filled of confidence. His gaze, nailed in that alley-. Should they come looking for me...I intend to be found-. He lets the riddles behind, and speaks with the plein truth, turning to look at him.

Cole remains with a thoughtful gaze, with his brows lightly furrowed. Aemond expects an answer from him, some reaction, but his face is always a serious one, and it barely changed even after his words.

Criston looks at him, with his lips pressed.

-Finding him is your mother's order, I recall to you, my prince-. Ser Cole stays as loyal as always to his Queen. Aemond furrows his mouth, instantly looking away, losing hope of his support-. And your passed father's, The King, wish...-, he added.

Aemond gulps, beginning to silently nod. He licks the insides of his mouth, and then keeps walking, as if nothing had happened. Criston sighs, closing his eyes for a second, and then he followed him, quickly reaching his side.

Knight and prince keep walking, silent, not exchanging a word anymore, both of them leaving the other in their own minds as they look around at all times, looking for the wastrel.

Aemond tries to keep his head clear, away from any deep thought or whatsoever, but with all this going on, is nearly -if not totally- impossible. So he keeps thinking. Aegon, Daera, Jace, Alicent, Alyssa, Luke, the crown of Jaehaerys. Too many names to think of. This one's on top, then that one's on top, and on and on it goes...nearly crushing this man's firm demeanor, and making to fight against some tears that reached is eye.

He quickly blinked them away, knowing this is not the moment.

Aemond gets out of his head, looking around as he chews his own tongue, entertaining himself with that. He goes behind Ser Criston, who is as attentive to the surroundings as he is.

The prince watches the countless hands of beggars that raise to him in the search of aid. Aemond doesn't cares enough to look to their faces, and just walk past them with disinterest, wondering how these people have no shame to do this. It is embarrasing.

From a moment to another, Criston stopped, which made Aemond to stop as well.

-My prince...-, the knight calls, and the purple-eyed follows his gaze, curious.

Not too far from them, they ran into one of the community kitchens that the princesses Daera and Helaena had set up throughout Flea Bottom. People eat in there with hunger and desire, but a handful of people in special was what took their whole attention.

No one less than the The Hand of The King and The Cargyll Twins are seated in one of the tables, apparently meeting with some white-dressed woman of brown hair.

Aemond blinks, and Criston smirks lightly, staring at them from a safe distance.

-Now we wait...-, the one-eyed whispered.

■ ■ ■

The day keeps advancing in Dragonstone and, as The Realm's Delight promised, it has been quiet and calm, specially after that little discussion at breakfast. Thereafter, everybody kind of attended to their own matters.

Prince Daemon had gone out to fly with his loyal dragon, Caraxes, up in the skies where he is alone with his very own private thoughts. As the wind caresses his mane, The Rogue Prince thinks about his brother, The King, and his deplorable health. Viserys doesn't has long, he confesses to himself, making his heart to beat with discomfort. "Should Viserys die, we shall be ready", his warrior side tells him.

Princess Rhaenyra has busied herself with getting her luggage ready for tomorrow. As we know, she promised to Queen Alicent -better said, her old childhood companion- to return on dragonback to King's Landing, something Alicent and The King himself will be very happy of. So, with nervous but also hopeful feelings beating in her chest, The Heir gets her baggage ready to spend some days in the capital. At the same time, she's also attending to her twin sons, having Viserys and Aegon as the sweetest company.

Princess Baela has joined her siblings, princess Rhaena and prince Luke, in one of the mountains of Dragonstone. In there, they are sharing a lovely time with their dragons as they eat lemon cake. Rhaena admires the bond of her siblings with their dragons. Arrax is almost always following Luke's steps, going behind him with curious growls as he, oblivious to it, tell tales about their childhood while he eats. Moondancer has her pale green tail coiled in Baela's waist, for she is resting in the grass with her, calmly eating with her eyes closed. Rhaena, having her pink egg again in her arms, rocks it as if it was a child, dreaming about having that kind of bond with her dragon.

Prince Jacaerys remains in The Chamber of The Painted Table, endlessly studying with Maester Gerardys while prince Joffrey, the younger brown-haired prince, fell asleep besides the fireplace, after reading, and now is tucked in some fur bedsheets Joveth fetched for him. Jace finds distraction in reading history and practicing High Valyrian, getting his mind away from thoughts about his future kingship, and about his wife, the princess Daera.

The princess Daera, alas, has found no distraction from the thoughts of her mind.

At the moment, she is at her chambers, all alone. Her fully naked body is into the golden tub of her washroom, bathing in warm perfumed waters. Her wet countless curls fall in her back until getting lost in the water, her back is slouched, and the moles in it covered by her hair. Her breasts are pressed against her legs, for she is all hugged to her knees, hidden in there.

The rooms would be silent, if not for the girl's sorrowful weeping. Daera sobs in whine with a broken heart, bathing in her own tears, which mix with the hot water of the tub, turning it salty. The princess, at least, has found a place to cry freely since she was in Helaena's arms, last night. Whilst her family is busy with their own things, she excused herself too, to "take a bath". She's doing more than that, surely.

As the day has passed, her feelings have too. Much and more beats in the princess's chest, but one thing is sure, angriness is no longer her main feeling. Lovers Island's past night left her outraged, mad, and impotent. Now, soaked in her own tears, she is, more than all, sincerely sad, and confused.

Daera's doleful heart has started to ponder the question that always come to her mind when needed to. The matter of the...the two sides. The famous two sides of the same story she always try to think of. And now she is.

The princess knows what what was done to her and how she felt regarding that. Her dream of being mother of the child from the man she loves was crushed, by this very own man. She felt betrayed, misunderstood, and alone. But, one second, how must had he felt?

Is it truly deserving the appellation of "cruel", what Aemond did to her? Surely he was not kind, much less willing to listen to her, but it may be because he has his own reasons. And now, in the quietness of her tub, and in the middle of her sad sobbings, Daera may be starting to see that.

Could it be, that perhaps she -actually- was the cruel one? Caring only about her part, and her own desires?

Aemond's wife knows much and more about the difficulties he has had in life, most of them by the hands of her own family. She knows his resentment towards Luke, his hatred towards Jace, his problem with the bastards in general. Blatantly, she literally asked him to magically forget all that, and have a child with her, just because she wanted to. FUCK! Is that what really happened?!

Daera whines with distress, burying her nails in her scalp and strongly closing her eyes, allowing more tears to fall.

Perhaps she was the reckless one, then... Fuck, but- either ways, why did he have to say those things he "would like to do" to her brothers? How was he capable of speaking with so much poison and malice? She nearly saw blood coming out from his tongue and teeth, the blood of her siblings, the one it appears he so much would like to drain off them.

Ow but, come one, perhaps he just was too blinded by his despair, and by not being listened by her. Did he say all of that because of desperation? "Most likely", Daera answers herself. He doesn't has the heart to crash my Jace's skull, or to take out my Luke's eye, the princess is convinced of. She knows Aemond...

And she knows tha acts of last night hurted him as much as it hurted her. It is a truth. Perhaps we were both wrong, the princess thinks while weeping salt, by thinking we both were right. Perhaps...

Daera tsks her tongue and her throat trembles when she began to cry harder, almost sinking her shaky lips into the tub.

Hells, how many times has she thought of the word "perhaps, perhaps, perhaps"? This is too much, its...its too heavy. If she keeps talking alone in her mind she'll go insane.

As hurt as she may be, she doesn't doubt about one thing: she needs to listen to another voice, and it's perspective. Aemond's.

■ ■ ■

The High Sept is a sacred place, in Flea Bottom, and perhaps it's safest, for not even the meanest man dares to mess with The Faith of The Seven's house and its residents. If they do, they are harshly dealed with by the crown.

The White Worm, that mysterious woman who seems to know everything about everyone in King's Landing, has sent the servants of The Hand, the Cargyll twins, to look for the so lost young Prince Aegon, for she assured she safely tucked him away in here.

And, not having another option than to believe her, here the knights have come, entering to the temple with silent steps, and serious eyes, looking around.

Ser Erryk walks in front of his brother, looking at the seven huge statues that surround the hall, and at the round table in the middle of it, where a thousands of candles are burning and melting.

As a sacred silence surrounds them, Erryk is only listening to his thoughts. The uneasiness on his chest is still here, more pounding than ever now that he has the gut that his prince is about to be found. This is not sitting him well. He knows this is not well. Something must be done.

Aegon's sworn protector has been having nightmares, more constantly than usual, since the early morning where that young handmaiden, Dyana, walked to him with a teared apart dress and endless tears of despair and fear in her red face, telling him what the prince did to her, pleading for succor. And...and princess Daera was right. He did not help her. Instead, he walked to the Queen, and protected the prince's ugly doing, besides a thousand more of them.

The look that the princess's eyes gave him last night was one of full disappointment, and mistrust, contrary to the one she gave him the night before, a hopeful and happy one when he let her sneak out of The Red Keep. She didn't expect him to be this accomplice to her cousin's crimes. Honestly, he didn't either. But what else was he supposed to do, if he's sworn to him?

Now, however, his oath is walking away from his heart, step by step, as they more walk into The High Sept. To tolerate the felonies of a prince is one thing, but a King's...impossible for his heart to take. If a crown is placed on that boy's head, the realm will be doomed, and so will his own honor, which has already started to fickle, since he began to be the prince's guard.

Now, as to Aegon's whereabouts...Let us see what he has been up to. Not much, to be honest.

The prince thought he would have a decent night. Hells, even a funny one after he and his brother mocked the bastards in the dinner. That was fun. However, all that changed when his older cousin stormed into his rooms with letal eyes, and heartless accusations towards him. He wasn't expecting that at all. Her cruel yelling, their sudden fighting, their sharp wounds and their heavy blood.

His evening was ruined, and his soul shattered. He didn't want to think of that girl again, the handmaiden, and neither of Daera. Neither of them understand him, neither of them really saw that he is...- Anyways, Aegon's mind would have ate him alive if he didn't do something about his feelings. So, doubtlessly, he did.

He sneaked out to fuck and drink.

Aegon wandered around the whole city with a big smile on his face, a bottle in his hand, and a different whore for every street he walked through. Burning ale always ease his soul, and a woman's lips around his cock and another's tongue on his ass always help even more with that. His drunkness as wrll helped him with the itching pain of the wounds in his arms, which bled almost all night long, but he wasn't aware of that. Or was he? Ugh, he doesn't remembers, nor cares.

The prince found comfort on the different places he frequents, most of them not worthy to mention, for now, for we aren't seeking for a motive to grow sick. After his brutal quarrel with Daera and his pathetic crying afterwards, he immediately ran to the city, to hide, just as he hided the day his twin children were born, too scared to face his new reality as a father.

One can only imagine as what he's feeling with his new reality, as a king.

When The White Worm found him, and told him about the things ongoing on his home, the castle, the prince grew devastated, and horrified. His father was dead, and his family wad looking for him to crown him as his successor. Aegon doesn't want this, he doesn't! The white-dressed lady promised to keep him hidden, and tucked him away so no one would find him and he could be at peace. Soon, she would help him to get out of the city, after she attended to some business. He'd just have to wait for her.

False.

Ser Arryk stops walking when a cough suddenly makes echo, right besides him.

-Listen-, he immediately calls. His twin halts his steps as well, cautiously staring at the round table besides them.

Another choked cough is heard, longer, and this time it was clear that it came from under the table. The twins immediately kneel down in the floor, bending to look below.

-Uh...-, a dumb groan comes from there. Huh, Aegon did say he would find a nice spot underneath this table, didn't he?

Within a second, Erryk and Arryk completely bend down and quickly grabbed some white dirty hands resting in there.

-No, no!-. The tired voice beneath the table gasps and starts complaining with despair-. No! Agh-, it groans with pain.

The Cargyll twins drag out from under the table none less that the silver-haired Prince Aegon, who groans with his eyed closed and a dirty face, totally exhausted and devastated.

-Uhh-, Aegon drags a dumb sound as he's being dragged out. He feels in a dream. Rather, a nightmare, for he has been found-. ARGH!-, he shouts desperately when feeling how they grabbed him tightly from the arms, making his wounds hurt. He groans, trying to fight against them, but unable to even move a finger.

The twins turn him around, making him to face them. Ser Erryk presses his lips with disgust when he sees his dirty factions, while Ser Arryk furrowed his brows, serious.

-Where is the White Worm?-, Aegon asks, dizzy and breathless.

-She sold you for a price-, his sworn protector answered him, codly. The prince didn't even get surprised when learning he was betrayed.

-And why have you paid it?-, he asks, offended. Blinkless, Erryk looks at his twin, wondering if he's seeing the scoundrel this one is-. I want my mother-, Aegon drags his words, pathetically.

In that moment, Erryk let him loose completely, stepping away from him with his eyes hugely open. Arryk grabbs the prince tighter, talking to him.

-Your grandfather, The Hand, will meet you outside the city walls-. He dictates with a harsh tone, and Aegon felt his heart sinking even deeper.

The prince groaned and from a second to another escaped from the knight's grip, shooting out running as fast as he could, soaked in fear. But he's so weak that Arryk catched within two blinks, making him to fall on the floor.

Aegon grunts, desperate, with no way out. Ser Arryk, on top of him, grabbs his arms with force, looking at him with harshness.

-You flee what other men die seeking, Aegon-. The knight tries to bring him to his senses, but the prince does nothing but grunt, trying to escape.

Arryk sighs heavily, turning to look at his twin.

Erryk's eyes reflect the candles of the table, expressing seriousness, and denial. He just stares at them, moveless, not even breathing. He sees Aegon struggling and drooling. Erryk slowly shakes his head.

Moments then, the twins walk out of The High Sept, taking the prince with them. Rather, Erryk is the one doing the work. Erryk stayed inside, thoughtful.

Little they were expecting Ser Criston Cole to make sudden act of appearance, until he stepoed in front of them, pointing at them with his sword. Much less were they anticipating prince Aemond's presence either, until he rose up from the stairs of the temple, all hooded.

Ser Arryk stopped walking, shocked. Prince Aegon, in his arms, huffs a tired laugh, bemused.

-I do regret this, friend-. Criston talks to his White Cloak brother.

Aemond steps front with cautiousness, staring at his brother with an attentive eye. He sees how dirty he looks, soaked in his own mucus, sweat and saliva. He's not a king anywhere.

Bravely, Arryk shows that he also carries his sword with him. The sight made Cole to smirk taunt, knowing he can beat him within a second. Aegon looks at his brother, breathing slowly.

Now, let's get into action.

In less than a second, Aegon wriggled free of Ser Arryk's grasp and sped away. Both knights quickly drew their swords, attacking the other. And Prince Aemond turned to run swiftly down the stairs, not thinking it twice.

As the swords began to clang, Aegon and Aemond ran down different stairs. The older brother goes as fastly as he can, but his younger brother, in much better form than him, doesn't takes long to catch him.

The Targaryen siblings both grunt when they abruptly fell in the floor after the younger catched the older. The undercover White Cloaks fight violently between them, to a point where Ser Arryk kicked Ser Criston down the stairs, and he rolled in them until quickly standing up again, grabbing back his weapon.

Ser Arryk runs down the stairs, planning to go to Aegon, but Criston swiftly attacks him again, and so their fight was resumed, with both of them yelling and grunting.

-No! Stop!-, Aegon shouts as Aemond grabs one of his legs and drags him strongly, holding his shoulders to keep him quiet-. No!-, he yells, hearing his brother's grunts.

Erryk finally walks out of the temple, just to find knight fighting knight, and brother fighting brother. He stays on his very place, serious, easily realizing that this is not right.

As the cherry on top of this stinking cake, Aegon began to blatantly laugh while struggling with Aemond, giggling as he ignores the sharp pain in both his arms, which are starting to bleed, again, under his coat.

Aemond hisses, finally pinning him down with firmness, gripping his shoulder. He looks down at him, sourness on his eye.

-I was hoping you disappeared-, the younger brother admits, burlesque.

-Is our father truly dead?-. The older questions, with tear on his violet exhausted and fearful eyes.

-Yes-, Aemond answered with no apparent grief, looking around as he breathes fast, amd his brother whined-. And they're going to make you King-, he hisses, knowing that this scares him.

Outraged, Aegon furrows his brows and spits harshly on his brother's face.

-Agh!-, Aemond grunts with disgust, backing, but he quickly grabbed him again, now even tighter than before, getting him up from the floor.

-NO!-, Aegon cries, feeling the pulsing pain on his arms, and the pulsing despair on his chest-. AREN'T YOU GOING TO HELP ME?!-, he desperately yelled towards the quiet Cargyll twin, his protector.

However, Erryk remains still in his place, watching evetything. He eyes the people around, who are staring at the fight with fear, quickly stepping away. He recognized, between those people, a woman that the princess Daera is fond of, the one that has a children shelter. Moringa, it was, who ran from there with precaution.

Arryk and Criston's fight came to an end when the older knight threw away the other's sword, and pointed at him with his own, leaving him defenseless.

-No! Let me go!-, Aegon pleads with despair, struggling against his brother.

-Where's your brother, huh?-. Criston mocks, pushing Arryk, and caged him with his sword's end. The twin breathes heavily, helpless.

-LET ME GO!-, the older prince pleads, while the younger pretends to be deaf-. Brother!-, he yells, struggling, and letting out a long tired groan.

After seeing his twin's blindness, Ser Cole's machiavellian smile, prince Aemond's complicity and prince Aegon's ridiculousness and cowardice, Ser Erryk decided he does not need to see more. Quietly as the wind, he turned around, and walked away, leaving The Hight Sept.

-LET ME GOO!-, Aegon demands with a loud shout, still struggling against his brother. He sobbs, desperated-. I have no wish to rule!-, he yells with despair-. No taste for duty! I'm not suited!-, he insists, not caring about humiliating himself.

-You'll get no argument from me!-. Aemond answered him, burlesque, not looking at him, not able to bear the sight of someone so ungrateful and stupid.

Aegon whines and breathes fast, suddenly turning around to grab his brother's face with both his dirty stained hands.

-You let me go. I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found-. Aegon proposed to him from a moment to another, smiling with a pinch of hope, sweating even from the ears.

And it was only then that Aemond finally stopped struggling. His lips parted and his mind found hope in that proposal. Shocked, he thinks how that would solve everything. Aegon goes away, the crown will fall on to him, and then- and then he can be Ki-

-The Queen awaits-. Ser Criston broke both of the princes's dreams, when he arrived and grabbed Aegon's shoulders, which hurted.

Aegon clenched his jaw, and closed his trembling lips. If he had only asked earlier. Aemond stayed blinkless, staring front. If he had only thought of that before...

Criston walks away with the older prince, who sobbed under his grip, closing his teary eyes.

The One-Eyed Prince, moveless, realizes the opportunity he has just lost. Bemused, he blinks multiple times, and then sucks his inferior lip, more than frustrated.

■ ■ ■

Alicent has Aegon. Everything has been decided.

Criston Cole will be named Lord Commander of The Kingsguard, for Ser Harrold Westerling resigned his position after learning the Greens schemes and plots.

Aegon will be anointed tomorrow, at dawn, and the whole of King's Landing will witness his ascent. He will take the crown of his namesake, Aegon The Conqueror, and carry Blackfyre, his sword, to let the people temember the ancient strength or House Targaryen.

The night has already fallen, so all that is left to do is wait, though that doesn't make it any simple, or easier. After all this years and years of dithering and discussions, tomorrow a side will finally win this game. The Greens.

Aemond has come again to wear his fine leather clothes, and his meaningful black leather eyepatch. The prince is seated in front of a fireplace, as he so much does, bit this are not his mother's or his own chambers.

No, rather these are his wife's.

He took a bath after coming back from the city and, after getting dressed, he took the secret passageways and came to Daera's rooms, which are totally lonely, and silent. Joyless, as everything is when she's not around.

Aemond took seat in front of the fireplace after litting it up. Besides him, in a near chair, it appears that Daera forgot her leather coat, for it remains in that seat. He will not deny that he sniff it in order to find out if it was hers. It smells like dragon, and perfume. It is hers.

The prince is feeling somewhat easier than this morning, mainly because he knows his wife is not in danger anymore, for nothing will be sent to Dragonstone than terms, as his mother told him, not murderers. His brother will be crown at dawn. His family will be safe. No bastard will sit the throne...

He knows this is what they have been expecting for, their wholes life. It will finally be done. But, then why does he feel like there are things still to be done, like nothing is truly...complete, as it should be?

For starters, Aegon will be the one crowned tomorrow. It upsets him, not in the sense that it upsetted Ser Erryk, but in the sense that ot should be him the one placed as king of The Seven Kingdoms. Everybody must see it! Aegon is unfit to rule, not even capable of taking care of himself. What is he to do with Seven Kingdoms under his yoke?

His older brother is as unhappy as him with this decision. But -and he's only wondering in here- what if there is a way? Well, Aegon said it himself, this afternoon. What if he flees away? The Conqueror's crown would immediately fall onto his head, and it would fit him so perfectly, there is no doubt. The people would see that he does has the wood to be a King, the determination to be a leader.

What if, after the coronation, Aegon disappears, nowhere to be found? He would happily go away to live his days with whores and ale, away from any duty, as he dreams of. And his brother, the prince Aemond, would fulfill his dream as well. They'd both win, and their family would still be safe, safer even. What if he tries, then? Aegon wouldn't say no, he's sure.

King Aemond I of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, Protector of the Realm and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. It fits. Queen Daera Targaryen, his cousin wife, fits even better.

There would be no matchable couple. They'd be unstoppable, and would take House Targaryen to the height of its strength, with two adult dragons -two of the most fierces and oldests out there- standing with them besides The Iron Throne. No one could tear them down. No one could gainsaid their word.

They'd be remembered even more than The Old King, Jaehaerys I, and his Good Queen Alysanne. More than his own parents, King Viserys and Queen Alicent. They would rule with...

Aemond blinks, making a slow pout with his lips. After saying that in his mind he realizes it is the first time he truly thinks of his father since he knew of his dead. All day had been of searchs and runs, but now...with the silence in Daera's room...is that he's becaming aware of the obvious yet ignored by him truth.

Viserys is dead.

His life is ended, and he truly lived it whole without loving hia second son. Without loving any of the children of his second marriage. It was always obvious, of course, but now it feels different. Now there is truly no chance to change that, to try, to speak with him one more time. Viserys Targaryen died, and his son, Aemond, never got love from him, nor an apology, nor nothing. Endless nothingness.

Why would he cry? He never loved his dad. And yet, tears are gathering in his eye, and he felt it burning because of them. Aemond gags, and then gulps, starting to breath fast. His chest becames heavy, and his heart sad. He hadn't know mourning before. What is this?

So he never truly had a father, huh? His mother's excuses for Viserys's neglect would never convinced him. His ill is no excuse. Viserys was well, more than well and lucid, for a great part of Aemond's life. He waa confined stricly to his chambers barely a year and a half ago. What about before that? Not one talk, not one true smile, not one apology, not one pat on his shoulder, not one flatter on his training. No nothing!

Ha hated him. Gods, did Aemond hated his father. And now he's dead. Should he be happy? Should he be relieved? Then why does it hurts so much? He just died, that ugly rotting coward of a King, like he had any right to it. Only ever standing up for Rhaenyra, shielding all of her crimes and treasons, taking her whole family under his arms and hugging and kissing them with love everytime he'd see them. What about him? What about Aegon, Helaena, Daeron? Nothing to him, it appears...They were never nothing.

Aemond covers his mouth and curves his sweaty brows, crying with no end. He feels a hole being dig in his chest with no mercy as the tears keep falling from his eye.

The prince sobbs, drowned in sorrow, covering his mouth tighter, shaking his head from side to side.

So today he lost his father...and yesterday he lost the chance of becoming one.

That thought was his last straw, definitely. He fell on his knees in front of the fireplace, slouching his back and bending to hide his face into his arms, endlessly whining with severe sadness, grief, and glum. He feels so alone, unconsolable, and desperated.

Viserys, Alyssa. One he hated, and one he loved. And he lost them both. One by the passing of time, and the other for the miscalculation of it. Oh, the gods are so cruel sometimes...

Aemond weeps, breathless, wanting to feel those familiar hands on his face, to hear that voice that know how to calm down his sorrows. Of fuck, he doesn't care about no discussion from last night. He just wants her, he needs her.

I want my love.

■ ■ ■

I need to leave.

No other thought has crossed Princess Rhaenys's mind since Queen Alicent locked her in her chambers, in The Red Keep.

A new day is arriving, making Aegon's coronation to be just hours away now. She was demanded to ring the bell when she has her answer. The Lady of Driftmark, as a matter of fact, has her answer already, but one that would take her straight to The King's Justice and its guillotine.

She cannot join the Greens.

Doing so would mean the end of all of her grandchildren, and she has no right to doubt it, and neither will. Jace, Luke and Joff are claimants to the throne, while Daera and Rhaena are their wife and betrothed to them, respectively. Baela wouldn't be spared, and the babes Viserys and Aegon -Rhaenyra's only legitimate sons- of course would end dead as well.

She needs to warn them. She needs Meleys, her dragon, and fly as quickly as possible to Dragonstone, to tell them everything once and for all. They know nothing, she's sure, for the Dowager Queen will most likely wait to crown her son King before even letting them know what has happened.

Rhaenyra will be crushed, Daemon outraged, and all the children as well, with these news. And Daera, oh Daera, her romantic bold granddaughter. When she learns that the husband she so heartily defends time after time has betrayed her blatantly to place his brother in The iron Throne, one that is promised to her for after her parents's rule...huh, she so much tried to tell her. And she didn't listen.

The Lady of Driftmark knew it, she always knew that Aemond wasn't to trust. That witless, who didn't even have the hypocrisy to come and talk to her to at least sell her fake promises of love for her granddaughter.

Rhaenys, moveless, gives a single blink after minutes without doing so. She wonders what is she to do, what is she to say. Oh, when Corlys know how they've been keeping her.

-Out of my way!-, a male shout comes from the hallway outside, and then punches and grunts are heard.

Rhaenys startles, raising her brows and turning to look at the entrance, wondering if she imagined those sounds. Though she definitely didn't imagine when the doors are opened from the outside, and a White Cloak guard comes into the room.

This is Ser Erryk.

The armoured Ser Erryk enters to the chambers with quick steps and a heavy breath, carrying with him a long coat, and a bag hanging in his shoulder.

-With me, Princess-. The knight talks, handing her the coat. Rhaenys stares at him with her lips closed, not knowing what choosing of color to expect from this man-. I cannot let this treachery stand-. He dictates with firmness.

The White Cloak chose black.

■ ■ ■

The day of the coronation has officially arrived.

Flea Bottom is a mess. All of the people are being guided -to not use the words pressed, pushed, and obliged- by the Gold Cloaks of the castle, making them all to walk -to not say run- through the countless narrow streets of the city.

From all the alleys and taverns, from the Street of Silk to the Street of Steel and the Street of the Sisters, everbody is being forced to walk the same path and head towards one common place: The Dragonpit.

Moringa, the owner of the children shelter, runs with the bunch of people, going with a confused and uncomfortable expression.

Dunc, the old man owner of a fruit stall, is being harshly pushed by all the people behind them, and he walks as quickly as he can, out of breath.

In another street, Ajy, Jya, Ajy and Yja run as well, al stained in oil and grease from their stall. The blacksmith brothers go together, walking fastly and alerted, not understanding what is happening. The older and taller one, Ajy, watches his brothers with alert, and they copy his face, not having a good gut. Soon, they startef to get violently push, making them grunt and walk faster, and to push the people ahead as well.

The whore of the Street of Silk, Levy, walks with quickness and confusion with a bunch of his girls from their brothel, all of them foxed and bemused.

Nobody knows, not even imagine, that the princess Rhaenys is among them, hooded and silent. She has lost Ser Erryk into the crowd, and Ser Erryk has lost her, looking desperately for her between all the peasants and commonfolk.

-Out of my way!-, the White Cloak yells as he runs with hurry between the people, pushing some.

-OW!-, Jay hisses when he is violently pushed by that guard-. WATCH IT, CURTAIN BOY-, he yelled with annoyment.

-Jay!-, Jya punches him with reproachment.

-The idiot didn't even hear me!-, he quickly discussed back. The mute brother breathes fast, watching upfront.

-Just keep walking!!-, Ajy yells at them with seriousness, not losing any of them out of sight.

-MAKE WAY FOR THE ROYAL WHEELHOUSE!-, the Captain of the City Watch starts to shout towards the peasants, and his guards pushed them back, clearing the street.

The people behind the Gold Cloaks, most of them yelling and pushing each other, moments then see how two royal wheelhouse pass running with their fine multiple horses, going fastly towards a same place.

Between those people, Princess Rhaenys watches them with her lips parted, knowing who are inside of those carriages.

In one, goes Queen Alicent with the future king, her son Aegon. And, in the second one, her other children. Princess Helaena, and prince Aemond.

The one-eyed goes completely silent, looking down at his black leather pants, and caressing the handle of his sword. His sister, seated in front of him, is constantly whispering and mumbling under her breath, playing with her fingers as she nods.

When Helaena finally learned of her father's death, by Claudia's mouth, she seated on her bed with her face down, completely silent. Definitely not the reaction of a daughter who just lost her father, but she was indeed sad, in her own way. What pained her the most was that she didn't have the chance to say goodbye to him, and neither to thank him for used to give her sweets when she was a child. Viserys will be missed, at least by one of his children.

Now, in the way to crown her husband as King, and make her Queen, her heart beats with total uneasiness and nerves, for she fears the very words that she's constantly whispering.

-There is a beast beneath the boards...-, the princess whispers, and then gulps. She doesn't know exactly what they mean, but she is utterly scared of them.

Aemond sighs through his nose, getting out of his mind, and looking up at her.

-Helaena-. He calls, and she immediately looks, attentive-...Did you happen to see Daera, before she left?-. The prince asks into a mumble, looking down again.

This is the first enounter he has with his siser since the brief moment yesterday's morning, for they kept apart during all of the fuss, attentive to their own matters, specially him. So now that he's with her, alone, he must know.

When hearing the question, Helaena stopped scratching her nails, and she tilts her head to a side, feeling some sort of ease when her cousin was mentioned.

-I was waiting for her in her chambers, last night, and we were together...after she returned from your island-. Helaena answers, calmly. Aemond's body shivers with shame, and he looks down when learning that she apparently knows what happened-. I...cried with her-, she confesses, softly.

Aemond closes his eye strongly, feeling his throat trembling for a second.

-Did she...?-, he leaves his question in the air.

-She told me-. The princess answers with a low whisper, noding. Aemond gulped, and slouched his back to cover the half of his face with a hand, ashamed. She presses her pink lips, slowly blinking-. I am sorry, brother...-, she mumbles, sad.

-Does she hates me entirely then, or how much?-. The one-eyed questions with a graceless smile, shaking his head. His sister furrows her brows, surprised-. How many times did she cursed my name? Is she never to see me again, or...?-, he lets his mind eat him alive.

-Daera will be back today-. Helaena interrupted him with a curious tone, tilting her head. Aemond went speechless, opening his eye big-. Mother asked our sister to visit us again, and Daera'll come with her, from their home...today-, she raises her brows, simple.

Aemond blinks, shocked. Why is she the first one to tell him this?, he wonders. To be honest, no one else recalls it.

-Will she?-, the prince whispers, with a voice thinner than what he would have liked. A glimpse of hope installed itself on his heart.

-Yes-, Helaena smiles tinyly, feeling his hope.

He gulps, deeply breathing in, and his sister sighs softly.

-Daera doesn't hate you-. She denied with sureness, shaking her head. Aemond looks up at her, with his eye shinning with both sadness and faith-. She just needed time, to think of what happened-, Helaena says with a light sweetness, giving him a small smile.

Aemond sighs, bemused, blinking slowly. He thinks about Daera's face, and his heart got so instantly warm. The idea of she returning today, to see her again. Fuck, even if it is to discuss! He just wants to see her, to finally erase that last expression he saw on her face, so broken and mad with him, weeping. He just...he just wants to see her fine.

Helaena sees the tiny smirk that grew on his lips as he glanced outside the carriage. She blinks, keeping a blank expression, reading his face. Something didn't set right, suddenly, with that hope of him. It feels ephimeral.

-...But there is no more time-, she thinly whispering, looking down, and scratching her nails again.

Not long after, they were arriving to the place where the coronation will be taking place. Helaena knew it just by feeling the beating of Dreamfyre's heart in her own.

They are at The Dragonpit.

Aemond sighed slowly through his nose as the guards open the doors for them. He's the first one to stand up, making her a sign to follow.

-Brother-. But she suddenly stopped him, grabbing an arm of him. He turns his head, curious.

-What is it, sister?-. Aemond questions, sort of confused when seeing the uneasiness on her eyes.

Helaena, with her lips parted, and her breath heavy, looks deeply at him.

-This is not right...-, she simply whispered, fearful, and mistrusted. When hearing her, he furrows his brows, slowly stepping out of her gripping.

-It is, sister-. He nods, with not one doubt-. We waited all of our lives for this-. Aemond dictated, and then he walked out of the carriage, leaving her alone.

Helaena blinks hugely, gulping, with the worst of feelings on her chest. Then she suddenly looks down at her belly, groaning when feeling it pulsing.

The princess breathes heavily, closing her violet teary eyes.

■ ■ ■

When the sun of the new day was only starting to rise, the skies of Dragonstone were dyed of soft yellow and blue tones, having so much calm in them, nothing like how things were back in the capital, at this hour.

The quiet dawn is being watched by both dragon and rider. Whilst Kalistrox flaps his golden wings with freedom, circling over the misty shores of the rock island, Daera is seated on her balcony, staring at her golden sweetheart, and at the golden coming sun.

The princess, even though the early hour, islready awaken, since a long while ago actually. She slept little, to be honest, but she cried a little less than last night, mostly becaude she went out to rode Kalistrox, sharing a lovely silent moment with him above the clouds of the night, waving to the moon. When has a ride with her dragon haven't ease her heart?

Today, she and Kalistrox fly back to King's Landing. Rhaenyra and Syrax will be with them this time. Within an hour or so, when it is officially morning, Daera will come out of her rooms, as well as her family will do too, to start the day. Soon enough, a while after breakfast perhaps, they'll be leaving Dragonstone.

They'll arrive to The Red Keep, and she'll see Aemond. And that...that is exactly what she wants.

They have to talk, urgently, and she has the big feeling that everything will turn out just fine. The matter is rough, she knows, but she feels her heart is already in the right place to talk about it with the fitting mind. By the end of the day, she'll be cuddling with him in his rooms, singing to his ear, probably, or rather riding him sweetly as he cries her name with love, as he always do.

Always. That is the word. They always talk things through, and she knows this won't be the exception. Why woud it be, because its hard? Matters don't to her. If it'd be for that, they wouldn't even be married. So, she is decided.

They'll talk. And they'll both listen.

■ ■ ■

-People of King's Landing...!-, the voice of Otto Hightower was heard all along the place.

The people of Flea Bottom is now all gathered within the walls of The Dragonpit, in The Hill of Rhaenys. They are so much that a great amount stayed outside the open gates, listening to what the distance allows them to.

The royal family is at the peak of the pit, all of them standing there with their fine expensive clothes.

-Fuck, now what is this about?-. Ajy mumbles under his breath, annoyed. His brothers share the feeling, standing to the left of the great hall.

-Some royal shit...-, Jay whispers with poison, having eyes fixated on The Hand of the King, that tall and cocky Hightower.

-Today is the saddest of days!-. Otto informs with a light sorrow, and the rise of his voice started to calm the mumbles of the smallfolk-. Our beloved King, Viserys The Peaceful...is dead!-. He announced with heaviness, an honest one, remembering the one who once was his friend.

Gasps and mumbles were not to wait, from the people, most of them turning their head to speak to one another, while others seemed simply uninterested, and others truly terrified. Moringa, for one, curves her brows in shock, blinkless.

-But it is also the most joyous of days....!-. The Hand speaks again, firmly.

-What the fuck is it? The happiest or the saddest, you son of a bitch?-. Jya questions with confusion, and some around him even laughed.

Rhaenys, mixed between all of the people, side-eyes with curiosity to that group of young men who laughed. She gulps, thinking of her deceased cousin, and looking front again.

-For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish!-. Otto screams with firmness so all the people would hear him clear-. That his firstborn son, Aegon...!-. He nearly smiles, slowly looking around-...should succeed him!-, he declares.

Rhaenys parts her lips, bemused. They are really doing this, so blatantly.

Moringa blinks slowly, taking the information in while everybody around her whispers and questions a thousand things.

The blacksmith brothers all four furrowed their brows, glancing at each other between them.

Seconds then, a round of empty and automatic applauses raises in the hall, echoing within the walls. A marching sound catches the attention of many. It were the men of the Kingsguard marching fully synchronized, wearing gold and red cloaks.

-Guards!-, their commander calls them.

The guards march in two divided lines, creating a generous space to walk in the middle of them, but only for one people to do so.

Aemond and Helaena stand silently besides their mother, who wears a green veil of duel, and a dress entirely green, as always. The one-eyed is standing with firmness, with his hands crossed behind his back, while the princess plays with her fingers over her belly, dressed in a beautiful blue gown. For some reason, she is nodding.

-Halt!-, the Commander orders, and all the guards immediately stop-. Turn!-, he ordered, and each of them twirled on their feet, facing the other line.

Leby raised her brows when a song of trumpets began to be played by three men wearing Targaryen uniforms. The woman blinks curiously, tilting her head, and watching at the guards.

From his place, Aemond nearly rolled his eye when hearing the triumphant trumpets.

-Present arms...!-, the Commander of the marchers yells. All of the guards took out their swords, raising them firmly to point at the high ceiling, creating a hallway between them.

And then, Prince Aegon stepped in, for he is the one who the guards made all of this for, who the musicians played the trumpets for. For the future King.

For a boy who started walking with a tear shining on his pale cheek.

A total silence covered the room when he began to walk into that hallway. With every step he takes, the swords behind him turn to point down, protecting his back.

Aegon walks with empty exhausted eyes and slow steps, weary, almost embarrased. He feels this is not his place, this is not his destiny. This is not him...and yet he can't even mutter a word against it.

The blacksmith brothers look at that silver-haired man walking near them. They saw his miserable face, the lack of color in it. He looks like a cursed ghost.

-But princess Daera is The Heir-, Jay mumbles with confusion.

-Her mother is, Rhaenyra, before her. This doesn't makes sense-. Ajy instantly adds within a whisper, having his brows furrowed.

-Step-mother...-, Jya corrected with a distracted mutter, following the prince with his mistrusted eyes, as Yja is also doing, with his throat afflicted.

-Oh my gods-, Jay sighs, shaking his head-. Wait, but princess Rhaenyra is brown-skinned too, right...?-, he mumbled confused. Jya and Yja shrugged, sincerely not knowing. Too young to, they've never seen The Realm's Delight. Many have never.

-They are usurping the throne...-, Ajy whispered under his breath, outraged.

Aemond presses his lips, seeing his brother approaching through the space made for him. That should be him.

-It is of your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this!-. The Hand's voice yells with pride and hope, echoing within the walls.

-A new day for our city, a new day for our realm!-. He promises, as his older grandson of teary eyes looks up-. A new king...to lead us!-, he states.

After gulping, and while the guards sheath their swords again, Aegon walks the stairs up towards his family, being watched by all of them. Aemond pressed his lips, and didn't look at him, while Helaena stares at him at all moment, rare of her.

Alicent walked to his son, holding both of his cheeks, and lowering his head to place a soft kiss on his forehead, blessing him. He blinked a multiple times, looking down, not remembering when was the last time he had felt her motherly tender lips on him.

Attentive, while the guards are leaving the hall, Rhaenys watches how Aegon kneels in the floor. The septon to crown him walks to him with a circle plate that holds blessed oil.

A strong cough echoes in the middle of the silence.

After taking three more glances towards them, the princess Rhaenys turned around and started to walk in the middle of all the people, going quietly.

-May the Warrior give him courage!-. Septon Eustace's voice echoes in the whole pit, and his thumb spreads oil in the prince's head-. May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield!-, he says.

A thin tear on Helaena's right cheek is already dry, and her teary eyes stare at her husband with not even a blink getting in the way.

When seeing an old woman struggling to walk through, Yja signaled his brothers to give her a space, and they did, more attentive to the coronation. Rhaenys eyed the young boy for a second and nodded towards him. He nodded back with a kind little smile, glancing to the silver roots of her hair.

And so, as cautionly as possible, Rhaenys ran down to the underneath of the Dragonpit, leaving the crowd behind.

Aemond clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath in while Septon Eustace finishes his sayings. The one-eyed keeps thinking how Aegon is unfit to all of this. Hells, he seems like he is about to faint. But now, Aemond is seeing that he can't do anything about this.

No, he can't talk to his brother to flee his position, so the crown can be passed to him. That is stupid, and even if Aegon would surely do it, that is treason, not only to the realm itself, but to his mother, and to himself. Aemond can do nothing but stay silent, watch, and be stepped over, time after time.

-The crown of The Conqueror!-. Ser Criston announces with firmness, now holding the very crown of the Conqueror of The Seven Kingdoms-...passed down through generations!-. He states.

Aegon breathes deeply, feeling his heart is almost jumping off his chest. Ser Criston approaches to him with slow steps, taking his time. And then, the Valyrian crown is placed upon his head.

Right at that moment is when princess Helaena draws her gaze away, turning her head to not look back at there never more, afflicting her throat.

The roles were exchanged, for now is Aemond the one who stares at him without blinking. He looks at that crown with lust and frustration. Poison, and envy.

-Let the Seven bear witness: Aegon Targaryen is the true Heir to The Iron Throne!-. Ser Criston dictated with a strong voice, tilting his head.

The crowd started to mumble, yet again, many wondering the same thing: what about princess Rhaenyra? The Dragon's Goodness is the true Heir. Does The Realm's Delight know about this?

Others, instead, nod with pride. The King's firstborn son, of course, as it should be. No woman's parts will seat the throne. This one will be as brave as his namesake, they're sure.

Some weep, whilst other cheer, but most of the smallfolk stare the moment in silence, confused and wary, now and again mumbling with their confusion and outrage.

Ajy's fists tighted at the sides of his body, and his lips muttered words that came from the bottom of his soul.

-...Long live our Queen-

Hearing the wave of mumbles behind him, Aegon breathed deeply, with frozen tears on his eyes. He gulped, wondering about what they may be whispering. Do they hate him? They would not be the first ones.

Eustace helped him to stand.

Aegon kneeled as a prince, and now he stood as a King, something that he began to understand when the septon was the first one to bow his head to him, and then Ser Criston followed.

Aegon watches as his mother, and she duly closed her eyes and bowed to him, making a perfect reverence. His heart tucked at the sight, surprised.

He looks at his siblings, who also bowed at him...eventually, after being moveless for some seconds. Helaena did it while looking away, clenching her jaw, and Aemond more like noded towards him, blinkless.

Otto bowed to his grandson with a smirk on his thin lips, paying to him full respect.

-All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men...!-. Septon Eustace names with steadiness as Aegon slowly starts to turn his exhausted sad eyes towards the people-, Lord of The Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!-, his voice echoed.

Everybody stares silently at him. The bells start to toil.

-Aegon The King!!-. Ser Criston suddenly yelled, making Helaena to flinch.

Aegon flickers, about to draw his gaze down with shame, but a sound catches his attention. Sounds.

The crowd started to clap and cheer after Cole's shout. Within a second, they start to grow louder and happier, stronger and wilder.

Aegon begins to face them fully, bemused. Criston shares a glance with Alicent, who breathed in with deepness. Aemond stays like a rock, lost in his mind, suddenly desiring to be back in Pentos. Helaena moves on her place, restless, closing her eyes and wrinkling her lips before all the noise.

The cheers and applauses in The Dragonpit are now at its height, for the people are celebrating their new King, at least the most of them are. The quiets are totally covered by the screaming cheering ones.

Aegon looks at them with a shine on his eyes, glancing at all the happy faces from the surroundings. They are...they are happy because of him.

Moringa jumps in her place while she cheers and yells and claps, screaming The King's name endlessly with pride and support.

The blacksmiths brothers remains silent and bemused, staring in shock to the cheering people around them, and also sharing glances of displeasure with the ones who are as outraged as them.

King Aegon takes out his sword, Blackfyre, within a second. He takes three steps front, with his lips parted, looking at his people.

I am their King.

And then he raised Blackfyre, and they cheered even louder, clapping endlessly.

They love me.

And then again.

No one stands over me now.

And then again.

I am The King.

Aegon opens his arms to the sides of his body, pressing his lips into a most egoistic expression, looking at all of them, letting himself to be praised.

-No, no no no...-. Helaena whispers, with her head down, and her eyes closed.

Aemond gulps strongly, staring at all the cheering people of the pit, not even listening to his sister's constant mumbles. He clenches his jaw, with a dark shadow casted over his mind.

Dowager Queen Alicent blinks while looking at her son, and a tired proud smile grows in her lips as she stares at him. Safe. He is, they are, safe. At last...

-LONG LIVE OUR QUEEN!-

-AEGON THE KING!!!-

-LONG LIVE AEGOOON!-

The screams continue. Though they quickly turned to be scared and desperate ones.

From a moment to another, the floors of the center of the pit is suddenly pierced and broken down by an emerging huge figure that sent out flying people and rocks as equal.

Ajy and his brothers screamed and walked backwards within a second while the ground shakes endlessly under them. They yell and shout along all the rest of the people of the place, starting to push each other to flee immediately.

The Dragonpit is covered by the sharp roar of the demon that emerged from hell. A winged red being that screeches as the people around it run and yell with despair and for their lives, going from one side to another.

Helaena gasped and opened her eyes big, immediately grabbing Aemond's arm, who crossed it in front of her as soon as the fuss began. He presses his lips and breathes fast, looking at there.

-RUN!-

-QUICKLY!-

-IT IS A DEMON! IT IS A DEVIL!-

-OUT OF THE WAY!-

-PLEASE!-

-I AM TRAPPED, MY LEG!-

-HEEELP!-

-RUN! RUN! RUN!-

A heavy cloud of smoke rose in the air along the endless shrieks of the beast that came from beneath the floors. Everybody is running as fastly as they can, escaping from it while their eyes tears because of the smoke and the fright in them, fearing for their lives.

It is a dragon. A mad roaring dragon.

Moringa got out of The Dragonpit in the middle of a desperate crying, running down its stairs while still hearing the beast's angry song.

Six of Leby's girls were completely taken out by a single rock, which crashed their whole bodies against the floor, exploding their heads completely.

-RUN RUN RUN RUN! DON'T FUCKING STOP!-. Ajy and Jay go screaming while they push their brothers with no end, all of them running as quickly as they can towards the not to far gates of the pit.

Aegon looks at the scene with total perturbation, thinking of Sunfyre, his dragon, which is down in the caves. Chained.

The dragon moves its long red tail, and with an only pass it swept up around twenty three people with it. Dunc was teared apart by it, being thrown to a wall, and dying right when his skulled crashed against a Targaryen pointy heraldry.

Leby was pushed by the tail, and she fell screaming into the hole the dragon has left, soon falling on a pile of rocks, breaking her back and legs. First, she was suffocated by the smoke, coughing endlessly, and then died when a rock was thrown from up and it landed right on her face, making her blue eyes to jump out of her head.

Alicent walks backwards along Ser Criston. She frightened, glancing at her children with fear, and he bemused, staring at the red beast.

In the middle of yellings and screams, the four brothers we know from The Street of Steel ran out from the pit with stopless legs and uncontroled heartbeats, shouting a thousand curses as they push and drag with them more people, taking them away from the terrorist attack.

As the cloud of smoke is slowly beginning to vanish away, and the red dragon keeps roaring towards the peasants, and murdering them, the person riding it began to be more clear to the royal's eyes.

Now they are aware that this is Meleys, The Red Queen. And who mounts her, is princess Rhaenys...The Queen Who Never Was.

And when realizing it, Helaena's grip on her brother's shoulder began to grow loose. She distractedly caressed it with her fingers as she watches at the beast beneath the boards and her rider, with parted lips and blinkless eyes.

Aemond watches her as well, but with full caution and alert. His eye is widely opened, and his chest is coming up and down as he looks at his wife's grandmother.

Aegon looks front with bemusement and rage, for they have totally ruined his moment. And worst: they'll ruin even more.

Rhaenys looks at all of them with an expression of superiority. Her coat is gone, and now she wears her red and grey dragonrider armour. Unfazed, she glares down at them.

-The children-, Helaena whispers under her breath.

Though the people of King's Landing still flee the place with endless screams thst plead for mercy, the Gold Cloaks of the entrance are closing the gates rather than keeping them open, fighting against the running people.

For they are loyal to The Prince of The City. Daemon Targaryen.

-OPEN THE DOORS!-, Otto walked forward with a loud shouting, raged.

Rhaenys parts her lips and turns her head around, finding the sight of the gold cloaks harshly pushing the doors, to keep The Greens right where they are: at sight. The betrayers have been betrayed, it seems.

Aemond is ready to fight, for today is not the day that he'll die, neither that of his family. So he grabbs his sword's handle, ready for anything. Helaena looks at Meleys with interested eyes, waving a hands towards her.

-OPEN THE DOORS!-, Otto screamed again, louder and with far more despair, furrowing his brows.

The Gold Cloaks, nevertheless, are momentarily deaf.

Rhaenys turns her head to look at the Greens again. Her violet eyes tell that she knows she can end this right here, right now, before it is even started. She just has to say a word. A single simple word.

And reading that menacing gaze, Alicent saw her and her children's lives flashing before her hazel eyes, and the fear she felt may be the worst of her life.

-Helaena-, she only mouths with no breath, walking past her sworn protector with his mouth open and her eyes tearful-. Get Helaena!-, her trembling voice ordered him as her hands pushed him.

And even though Criston wanted to stay with her, he pressed his lips and quickly walked towards Helaena, placing her behind of him.

And as The Red Queen's growling face neared to them with a torturing slowness, Alicent ran towards Aegon and caressed his arms while placing him behind her, shielding him with her shorter and weaker body. Aegon looks up with no breath as he feels his mother grip on his wrist. Helaena holds Criston's arm with nerves, gulping and not blinking once. Aemond stood staid and faced the dragon with no dithering, challenging her with his only eye, having one thought: she doesn't dare.

Rhaenys, harshly grabbing her dragon's ropes, sees them. But she sees a mother fearing for her children, protecting them. She sees her granddaughter's loved ones, her best friend, who is also a mother, and her husband.

The Red Queen growls lowly, menacing towards them with her green eyes shining.

Alicent's tearful scared eyes look up at her, slowly closing them when accepting her fate.

Rhaenys clenches her teeth. She will not say the word, even though she has her answer. She'll ring no bell, rather she'll let Meleys speak.

Aemond startled and turned around in a second, grabbing Helaena's head and hugging her to his body to shield her with his own.

The Red Queen opened her mouth to let out the sharpest and more bone-chilling screech towards all the people in front of her, blowing their manes and clothes and souls.

Alicent furrows her sweaty brows while Aegon wrinkles his face behind her. Otto turned his head down and closed his eyes strongly. Ser Criston looked down with his teeth pressed. All the lords and septons with them nearly fell on their trembling knees, while Eustace fainted within a second.

Aemond grunts hoarsely with his eye strongly closed as he tightly hugs Helaena to his body, feeling the beast's breath pushing his back. But Helaena was the only one to remain with her eyes open, looking at the dragon over her brother's shoulder to the dragon, having her mouth opened and her whole body loose, in trance.

A siren diabolical singing came out from Meleys's mouth during five seconds. And afterwards everything turned deadly .

Alicent opened her tearful eyes to look up in shock. Aemond turned his head with the same quickness, staring up at the dragonrider with light tears on his only eye, bemused.

Princess Rhaenys looks at them, calmly, almost with a smirk on her thin lips. Mercy. She looked down at them, with pure mercy. They must learn...but who am I to teach them?

Aemond watched her, speechless, and she looks at him, with her smirk lightly fading away. After a blink, the princess grabbed her saddle. And with that, Meleys began to turn around, growling to them for the last time.

The Red Queen rises in flight with a strong flap, leaving behind the family of traitors. She crossed the doors with agility, and then freely opened her wings when she reached the huge sky, flying in it with quickness. Rhaenys left, leaving them alive.

A decision she'll soon come to regret.

The One-Eyed Prince gulps strongly, staring forward with a teary eye filled of heaviness. He blinks, and starts to slowly look down, knowing where she is now heading to.

Daera.

■ ■ ■

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

Text

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 8 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, infidelity, lots of angst, mention of rape, mention of corruption, forced abortion, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

The night is long. And, though many in the castle may be wishing for it to be over already, the arriving of the next day will not suit gladly to some. Specially to the royal family, to be clear, who, ironically, are the ones more desperated for the day to be over.

After the violent encounter between the princes Aegon and Daera, in the former's chambers, Ser Erryk, his sworn protector, stayed at the outsides of the rooms. The white cloak now stands with firmness in front of the doors, in silence, remembering the fight and acussations of the princes he witnessed, not even an hour ago.

After the others left the quarters, a serious Aemond tried to take his brother to Maester Orwyle, for him to clean and treat properly the bleeding wounds on both his arms. Nevertheless, Aegon was in total denial, and started drinking recklessly -crying as well- while yelling madly to his younger brother to fuck off and to leave him alone.

Not putting up with any of his shit, prince Aemond fucked off the room, and left his drunk brother alone in his misery. On his way out, he mocked Ser Erryk, as he has done before a few times, pointing out what a sworn protector he is, that couldn't get past the Velaryon pups to save his prince. The Cargyll twin, as he must, remained silent.

Prince Aemond, afterwards, desired to reach to his wife's chambers, to also try to take care of her own injuries and, besides, to talk with her. However, the prince was catched in a hallway by his grandfather, The Hand, whom he had a talk with about his reckless and dangerous behaving in the supper. When Otto asked for Aegon, wanting to reproach him to, Aemond only answered that his brother was "rotting himself deeper".

While the young princes of the realm were having their private and brutal quarrel, the adults of the royal family shared, as a matter of fact, a warm moment. Well, Rhaenyra and Alicent, to be clear. The Queen and The Princess agreed on the matter that the latter will be returning to The Keep, in dragonback, within a short time, after seeing the children home. Rhaenyra would be returning to King's Landing along her older step-daughter, Daera, for she still oughts eight more days of her monthly visits to her godschildren, and her dear cousin.

Subsequently to the fight, Lucerys, Rhaena and Baela had departed to their bedrooms by themselves after they were commanded to it by their two older siblings. Matters to say that, before they went to their chambers, and after Luke had a quick talk with his mother, he communicated to all that they will be leaving soon, later in the night, back to home. He, as well, told his older sister that she would be coming back with the company of Rhaenyra, which she heartily agreed to.

The siblings didn't want for their parents to know about the fight of Daera and Aegon, for that would only worsen the doings of the dinner. Thus, Daera didn't go to see Maester Orwyle either. Had it been Maester Gerardys they would have gone to him, for he knows how to keep secrets. But, unfortunately, he remained in Dragonstone while they are at the capital.

Hence, the one attending to Daera's wounds, is her husband...her fake husband.

In the round dining table of Jacaerys's rooms, he is seated along his wife, who has both her arms extended in front of him. Two chandeliers are lighted near them, and then, the whole chamber is sinked in the darkness of the starry night. The tiny flames of each candle dance in the air, keeping them warm.

With delicacy and caution, Jace passes a humid rag on her arms, carefully cleaning the wounds with slowness. The bleeding has ended, minutes ago, and now he is just cleaning the blood left, caring a lot about not touching the injuries to often, for they are still very fresh, and irritated.

She has Aegon's eight scratches on her arms, and seems to not care about them, for she has not complained even once about the pain.

Daera sighs through her nose, pressing her lips as she watches the ugly long wounds she now wears in her skin.

-And, so, Dyana will join us in our way back home-, the princess goes telling, with a low soft voice-...She will be better at Dragonstone-, she whispers.

-I agree-. Jacaerys sighs, tired. He is slouched in his chair, with a really bad posture, in front of her, carefully cleaning her blood with the rag-. I am so glad she'll be out of this place-. He sighs, again, and then tsks his tongue-. You know? If we could only know how many girls he has damaged, we would take them all with us-. For a moment, he stops his doings, lifting his head to look at her, with impotence.

When he looks up to his wife, he finds a soft crooked smirk on her lips, and a tired shine on her eyes, staring at him with a pity sadness. Within some silent seconds, he sighed, understanding her without the needing of words.

-You are right-, Jace whispers, looking down again to keep cleaning the blood-. Solutions are not the problem. Things like that must not even happen, in the first place-. The prince mumbles, ashamed. The princess nods quietly, exhausted, losing her gaze on some point-. My uncles are...total guttersnipes-, he grunts lowly, frustrated.

Daera gives a slow blink, thinking of her cousin. Not Aegon, much less Daeron, but Aemond. She remembers his speech in the supper, the tauntly toast he gifted to her brothers. He called them Strong, in front of everybody, and she just can't believes it. He has always make sport of mocking the bastards, of course, but never before had Aemond been so blunt about it, not in front of the adults of the family. He didn't even care about Rhaenyra, his half-sister and mother of the boys, or about Daemon's presence, the one who decapitated Vaemond Velaryon for an equal mock made to his family.

No, Aemond just did it, after being dead silent and ignoring her gazes during the supper. Luke had been eating his own head since the fighting for his succession began, for he thought he did not deserve it. The last thing he needed was his uncle pointing out his alleged bastardy. Jace wasn't rooting for it either, because he himself has also been anxious about his future kingdom and how he'll be received by it.

Aemond didn't seem to care about her either, in that moment, for she had been so clear with him about how nervous and tense she was about all the visit, and the hearing, and he just seemed to ignore that too. Recklessly, her husband lifted his cup to haunt her whole family.

Daera sighs through her nose, briefly scrunching her lips.

-I am sorry for what Aemond said, at the dinner-. She mumbles from a moment to another, making Jace to blink slowly, as he keeps rubbing the rag on her arms-. He doesn't know what he's talking about-. The princess hisses, sincerely angry with him, but not in the way Jace might pressume.

-I care naught about what he has to say-, Jacaerys answers with confidence, and a calm voice-. I know who I am-, he states.

The princess presses her lips, looking at him with a tiny smile of pride, silently nodding.

Jacaerys may have got a little too tempered back in the Strong Toast, and could not hold himself of clashing his fist against the mummer's face. Two things led him to that: the disprespect towards his wife, and the disrespect towards him and his brothers.

"I have my own memories", the one-eyed dared to declare, alluding to the times he got to sleep with princess Daera, last year, before she cut off any relation and fondness of him, or that is that the lot believes. Little did they know that the "memories" prince Aemond was making reference to, were made just the past night, when she rode him passionly in the intimacy of their secret island.

However, as we are seeing the things from prince Jacaerys's eyes -for the moment- let us imagine what he must have felt when recalling that he married his cousin-sister, in the first place, to protect her and save her from the ruthless being that, tonight, Aemond assured to be.

-Sister-, he calls her in a low murmur, as he keeps cleaning her wounds with delicacy, looking at them-. We have been wed for...a year, already-. He points.

-Indeed-, she answers him along a short giggle. He breathes a quick smile, soon closing his lips with doubt, and hidden nerves.

-Regarding the- the thing that we did today, at your chambers...-, Jace starts to recall, raising his brows. Daera raises hers as well, shivering for a second when remembering that she still oughts to tell Aemond about that-. I wanted to ask you if...-he sighs-...if you feel like you took the right decision, about leaving all of your feelings for Aemond completely behind-. The prince asked, lifting his head to look at her right in the eyes.

She opens her lips, staring at him with an honest surprise.

Daera wasn't expecting that question, for this is literally the first time he asks about the matter, since they agreed to never do it again. What is her answer? A one she cannot say outloud. That she loves Aemond, from the bottom of her heart, still to this day. That she feels that this was the right decision, to keep loving him, no matter what.

However, her eyes light up with dearness as she watched the brother she was forced to wed. To be honest, she loves to feel this protected, not only by him, but by her entire family too. The wounds in her heart caused by the disagreements of those days have healed. Whilst she forgot about the despair and the endless fights during that time, she remembers their worriness and desire for her to be well, and good. They were only taking care of her, as she always does with all of them. How to ever blame them?

Curious, Jace looks at the tender smirk that formed on his wife's lips.

-You are smart, good-hearted, loyal...and quite handsome-, Daera raises her brows funnily. He instantly snickers, looking down, and she laughs as well. Jacaerys smiles softly, looking up at her again, staring at the dear glim in her eyes-...You are a good husband-, she whispered, sincere, giving him his answer.

Jace smiles, blushing, and looking down again. He has left the rag on the table, and now he softly holds her left arm, where the lesser wounds are, in his hands.

-You are a good wife...-, he whispered back, lowly, tenderly caressing her wrist with his thumbs, feeling her warm skin.

Daera smiles tinyly, looking at his hands. "I am hers, and she is mine", Jacaerys stated the day of their wedding, officiated by the religion of The Seven, looking at her eyes while saying it. It is a pity, to be honest, that he actually does not posses a good wife, for she fucks another man while being married to him, because she also married that other man and, doubtessly, she belongs to him instead.

Jace keeps rubbing his thumbs on her arms, doing it so slowly, and tenderly. The silence in the room is a comfy one, with only the burning candles to be heard. Jace raises his gaze, looking for her eyes.

They were already on him, watching him in silence. The prince, inevitably, starts to remember the things his wife did to him on the afternoon, seated on top of him, and dancing majestically in there. The memories made his brown eyes to glow dark, and his throat to gulp.

Princess Daera is an expert reading a man's desire and, with no doubt, she easily read it on her brother's gaze. Even with shame, he keeps remembering how she kissed him so wildly before. Daera blinks, feeling his caressings, and looking at him too.

Alyssa comes to her mind. Counting this night, it will be two already since her real husband impregnated her. Time is essential, and she can not lose it at all cost. She needs to do this and, well, Jace seems to want to do this.

Jacaerys clears his throat, feeling he has been staring for too long.

-Ah- uhh, let me go wash this-. The prince mumbles, letting her arm go, taking the rag, and standing up from his chair. Seeing him go, Daera blinks slowly, tilting her head to a side.

As he walks, Jace hears her chair moving, which made his steps to go slower. He almost turned around, but flinched at the moment of feeling two hands getting hold of his shoulders.

Daera makes him to turn around, breathing above his lips. Jace immediately gasps, and the rag fell on the floor, being forgotten.

-Daera-, he whispers, surprised.

She repeatedly shushes, placing her hands on his burning cheeks, and getting her face closer to him as she began to walk, pushing his body with her forwards steps. He gulps, watching at her lips, and not caring about where she was taking him.

Jace's back crashed against a wall, which took out a sudden groan from him, surprising himself. Daera extended a cocky smile, opening her eyes big, and gripping his shoulders tightly.

-You hide it so badly-, she whispers, approaching to him without shyness.

-What?-, he breathes fast, and then groans again when feeling her body starting to press against his. His manhood, all mighty, twitched at the second of feeling her.

-Your wanting of me-, she answered with a thin voice. Stiff, Jace breathes fastly, staring at her eyes-. I don't want you to hide it-. Daera cooes, directing one hand to his pants, and grabbing the between of them.

Jace immediately moaned, so shakily, almost melting right there in the wall, if it hadn't been for her other hand coming up to his jaw, grabbing it with her five fingers.

-Don't keep anything to yourself-. She asks, starting to rub the palm of her hand on his pants, feeling the tight bulk in them.

Jacaerys moans, shocked, curving his brows as he feels the magic touches on his croatch. He moans, time after time, even though they are soft and slow. Daera can't help but to gulp when she feels his cock again, for it is ridiculously big, fleshy and- fuck, strong.

She notices he moans before the lightest touches, and it amuses her to some point, for it is blatantly obvious that he has never had hands on his body, but his own, if so if he does those things. The princess, inevitably, laughs.

-You are so sensible, Jace, aren't you?-. She whispers, with her nose skimming his. Weakly, he tsks his tongue, all blushed while he moans-. You've never been touched like this, have you?-. Daera has her fun, smiling, rubbing his crotch from up to down.

-Never-, his thin voice answers, barely being able to talk, while she does it with all the causality of The Seven Kingdoms.

-I can tell, prince-. She snickers, looking down, and curving her brows when finding the bigass erection on his pants, as if it has been like that since an hour ago-. My gods, what was in that supper?-, she whispers, bemused.

-I apologize-, he whines, ashamed. Oh, but that's the last thing he should be.

-Ugh, lusty brother-. Daera sighs, taking one of his hands with one of hers-. You must never apologize for surprising a woman-, she says, pressing her other hand tighter against his trousers. Jace trembles, groaning-. And neither you must neglect her-, she funnily mumbled, placing his hand, in one of her breasts.

Her brother nearly fainted at that moment, legs trembing and chest coming up and down, mouth always open. He was stiff before, but now he's melting, feeling the warm soft hill -as he prefers to call it- in her chest. He moans, breathless, when the hand above his made him to start squeezing it, as if it was one of those toys Joffrey has, a leather ball full of water.

-Holy lords, Daera-. The young prince sighs, watching stoppless how her breast gets squeezed under her blouse. Her neckline is so shyless that he can see the flesh getting tight under his hand-. My gods...-his head tilts to a side, mesmerized by the feeling, and the sight.

-Jace-, she sighs his name, closing her eyes as she gets her lips closer to his-. I want to make you a man-, Daera murmured, sensually, over his mouth. The prince whines, speechless before her confession.

It is not the first time she would be deflowering a man.

Daera herself makes the position to give a turn, and now her back is the one against the wall. Jacaerys moans, automatically leaning against her hand and body, making her to laugh for a second. Afterwards, she grabbed his neck from behind, and ended the distance between their lips.

The prince groans when they started to kiss with no restriction. Her mouth seems to always be hungry, he has noticed, and it makes his nerves to go higher, but also his pants to go tighter. He feels her rubbings on his cock, the pulling on his hair, the licking on his lips. Seven heavens, this woman is something else.

She lets out a sharp moan, feeling his manhood poking her womanhood stoppless. Daera gulps, not wanting for lust to take over her mind, and she keeps kissing him with her head as empty as she can allows it to be.

Though Jace began to shyly squeeze her teat on his own, which sincerely took out another moan from her lips.

We can find prince Aemond, at the moment, walking around The Red Keep's bones, behind every wall and hallway, deep hidden from anyone's eyes.

Aemond went to his chambers after the talk he had with his grandfather, if it can even be called "a talk", for it was only Otto speaking about cautiousness, and reproaching, over a thousand times, his imprudent toast at the supper. He stayed on his rooms around fifteen minutes, in case someone else went looking for him, like his mother, or his own wife, Daera. Neither appeared.

So, after waiting that amount of time, he was the one who went to look for her, desperately. Aemond wrapped himself in his black leather coat, and entered the secret pasaageways of the castle, knowing his way very well around them.

He runs in circles around his mind, reviewing time after time what he is going to say to her. They have to talk about Vaemond Velaryon, his speech at dinner -he doesn't expect less-, why she was covered in blood this morning, and...Alyssa.

A moan. Aemond hears a moan. From a moment to another.

The prince stops short, his entire body suddenly tensing. Blinkless, he looks around with his big eye, feeling how his heart halted its beating within a second. That moan, easily recognizable for him, was Daera's.

It is now that the prince is starting to hear those sounds around him and, after a quick blink, he realized they were coming from back in the hallway, from one of the many rooms he is walking behind of. A snap after this realization, he hears another moan, but this one was male. Weak and pathetic.

Aemond loses no time. He makes no slow dramatic move. No. He firmly turned around, and walked with big long steps towards the place he was hearing those sounds from. Sadly, the closer he got, the more his body began to lose its steadiness, and began to shake entirely.

He was approaching to Jace's chambers, he noticed. The light of candles started to slightly reach his face as he walked closer to a wall of tiny holes, rhombus shaped. Through the infinity of holes, he could see a figure was leaning against it. No. Two figures. One of them of...of silver curly mane.

Aemond's legs failed for a brief second, and his eye, never blinking, opened bigger than ever. His heart broke, and his ears whistled with sharpness. The prince opens both his hands, placing them in the wall as he sees through it with a teary gaze, and an open mouth.

Right at the other side of the wall in which The One-Eyed Prince placed his hands in, princess Daera, his wife, shares a wild deep kiss with prince Jacaerys, her husband, while she makes him to grab her breasts. One of her hands is moving, right on his pants, touching him. They are both moaning, and they are both...looked at by him.

Aemond's blood stops flowing through his body, his head spins, and he becomes dizzy. He gets nauseous, it gives him a headache. His heart breaks.

He doesn't know what is happening, he feels helpless, and betrayed. What is betrayal, if not the cradle where rage and fury its born? What is rage, if not what he is the owner of, right now? What is fury, if not what blinds a man's eyes, and clouds his mind?

Bitter tears come up to his only eye. And, with them, the unleashing of his doom.

Not even with the slightest idea of her husband being right behind her, Daera keeps moaning, and keeps touching Jace with no shyness. The boy is feeling so good, flinching and groaning with every touch, whining when she bites his lips.

Everything would have turned out perfect, for her. She would have bed Jacaerys, and the security of her upcoming child would have been secured forever. But, alas, it seems that none of it was truly meant to be.

After another moan from the young prince, a sharp thud shook the chambers, suddenly. The wall where they were kissing and touching trembled abruptly, as if the strongest lightning had struck it, as if the maddest fists had lashed out at it in a single, but extremely violent punch.

-Oh!-, Jacaerys immediately flinches, separating from her lips. Daera jumped as well, grunting, for she felt the wall shaking right behind her head, hurting her.

-What the fuck?!-, she reacts with confusion, turning her gaze to look at the wall.

-What was that?-. Jace asks, startled, looking all around. His wife, on the other hand, fixed her eyes on the rhombus shaped holes-. Is the earth shaking?-, he fears, worried.

Daera's blood started to get cold, in the baddest of ways, and the saliva in her mouth dried all up. That stroke came from the secret passageways, she is sure, for she has walked through them a thousand times, right behind this very chamber. The princess thinks, telling to herself that there is only one more person who customs the secret passageways as much as she does.

Her real husband.

-Oh-, a thin squeal leaves her throat, and her legs started to shake-. Oh no, no!-. She weakly whispers, curving her brows, and then suddenly pushing Jacaerys away from her.

-Daera!-, he calls-. Are you alright? What is it?!-. He asks, worried, grabbing her shoulders.

Daera squeaks, getting his hands off her, and walking away from the wall, and from him, with a heavy uncontrolled breathing. She is pale, as far as possible, and her eyes filled with fear and anxiety.

-Daera!-, Jace insists, looking at her back.

-I- I must leave-. Her throat trembles as she speaks, and grabs it with nerves, lightly squeezing it.

Aemond saw us. Aemond saw us. Aemond saw me.

-I can't-, she whispers, voiceless, shaking her head.

-What?-. Jace curves his brows, not understanding anything.

In that very moment, a loud wild roar of a dragon shakes the wholeness of King's Landing. The Queen of All Dragons caused the fuss, as she opened her mouth big with rage and fury, letting out a great long squeal of distress.

Princess Daera opens her eyes big, and tears began to reach them as her body quickly ran towards the balcony of the chambers. Daera came out within a second, almost slipping out, but not caring, and immediately looking up at the sky.

Vhagar took off from the beach with angry fast flappings, quickly raising powerfully in the skies, and rapidly getting lost into the multiple grey clouds of the night.

-No-. Breathless, the princess Daera whined.

She turned around, and within a second she flee the chambers of her husband with no proper explanation. Jacaerys stood at the middle of his rooms in total shock, speechless, looking at the open door she left.

Still in Maegor's Holdfast, Daera quickly arrived to her apartments, closing the door and locking it while sobbing, mumbling a thousand nonsenses with extreme angst, feeling a heavy weight on her chest, and all of her body.

Without thinking it twice, the princess goes into the secret passageways, running as fastly as she can, not even allowing herself to breath. Her heart is beating so quick, and her calm from before is only a memory now, haunted by fears and worries. She goes through the passageways like a fish on water or, better said, like a dragon on the sky.

And, speking of such...

Daera had never reached the beach so quickly, but under this trying circunstances, she forced herself to do so, and she very much did, not caring about her breathing, or bare feet. She doesn't stops at any second, running wild and fast, making the sand to fade in the night's breeze as her soul runs savagely on it.

The Golden Ray is now alone at the bay, not having his usual companion, Vhagar, sleeping at his side anymore. Nevertheless, he is restless as well, and has been growling and shrieking anxiously since a few minutes now.

When Kalistrox saw his rider finally making act of presence in the beach, desperately running towards him, he let out a roar and, with hurry, approached towards her while shaking his golden long neck. At the same time, he lowered one of his wings to the ground, quickly asking her to jump in.

-Kalistrox!-. She names him with a squeal, not waiting anything to walk up his strong golden scales, reaching her saddle with teary eyes-. Fucking hells, fuck, fuck!-, her voice breaks as she sits down.

The dragon growls with restlessness and concern, shaking his neck again.

-Sovēs! [ Fly! ]-, the princess quickly commanded, holding tight to her saddle.

Kalistrox shows all of his long sharp teeth when he flapped his huge wings and, with a single flap, lifted all of his big body from the ground, taking off within a second. All the sand around was abruptly thrown against the black stone rocks of the surroundings. Some of that sand has been burned, since this morning.

Daera's chest comes up and down endlessly, while her eyes watered even more when the wind started to tickle them. She gulps, holding her saddle tight, convincing herself that everything will be alright, that she knows how to deal with Aemond. It is not, at all, the first time.

Kalistrox growls, going swiftly and quickly.

■ ■ ■

Lovers Island enjoys starry clear skies, at the moment, along a fresh tender breeze caressing the seas around, and the white sand of the island itseld. The palm trees are calmed, and the stone mountains at ease.

It is beyond a lovely night, definetely prettier than the past one, where it rained and flashed until dawn.

It's almost ironic, to not say cruel, for the latter ugly night of Lovers Island will turn out to be a far better one than this. We soon shall know why.

Prince Aemond is kneeled in the floors of the hut he and his wife made with their own hands. Right in front of him, barely some centimeters away, the fireplace burns with heat and life. A black cooking pot is placed on the fire and, in it, a white liquid already boils.

The prince is patch-less, and his blue sapphire reflects the fire on it. Said fire, at the same time, shines over the crystal tears he is endlessly crying. Aemond weeps with sorrow, looking at the pot as his body flinches, time after time, in the middle of his cry. His heart weights too much, as does his mind, thinking a thousand thoughts at once.

His head, how cruel it is, makes him repeat the scene of Jacaerys and Daera kissing against that wall, both of them moaning, and touching the other. No matter how much he repeats it in his memories, the prince still doesn't gets it.

Why? is a question constantly yelled in his thoughts. Why? Why? Why would she do this? Why would she be allowing herself to be touched by him? Why has this day go from bad, to merciless? Why him? Why me, to wield all this misery?

The sound of loud flapping reaches his ears, causing him to slowly raise his head. The prince gulps, knowing that Vhagar, after landing him in the island, immediately took off again, too stressed by his own stressed. His dragoness is away, he can feel, and so that only leaves one possible dragon arriving at the shores of the secret place.

The One-Eyed Prince opened the door of the hut with a shaky punch, leaving it wide opened as he walked outside with trembling legs, sobbing with distress. Though the island is totally dark, the fireplace of the insides lighted enough the surroundings.

The dragon arriving is no one but The Golden Ray, who landed with quickness, harshly clawing his paws to the sand. Aemond watches this with his chest coming up and down, and his tears only down.

When Kalistrox lowered his neck, the prince could see his rider weeping with anguish, hurriedly coming off her saddle. She, when seeing him too, sped up all her moves even more.

-Aemond-, she gasps as she walks down her dragon's wing-. Aemond, my love!-. Breathless, she starts running to him, barefoot.

Aemond can't even talk, crying just too hard, though he barely is making any sound. He shakes his head and presses his lips, closing his eye and taking a step back, not even wanting to look at her when remembering, again, Jace's hand on her body.

As his rider ran in the sand, Kalistrox growled, and raised from it with a big long flap, heading towards the skies while his huge heart beats with discomfort.

-I can explain it!-. The breathless princess says as she is getting closer to the hut's light. Her husband, red-faced, whimpers with weakness, looking down-. I was going to tell you, Aemond, I swear! This is not what it looks like!-, her crying voice promises, and she sighs shakily, approaching more to him-. My love-. She cooes, going to hold his cheeks.

But before her fingertips would do their usual magic on the prince's skin, this one hissed, and growled with pain, stepping away from her touch.

-You touched him!-, Aemond revealed to have a shaky broken voice, sharper than ever, making Daera's lungs to go breathless, and her brows to curve-. You kissed him, you FUCKED HIM!-, he yelled with despair, opening big his red teary eye.

-No no no, I didn't, I was going to!-. She immediately denies, giving him a broken smile. Aemond gasps, speechless-. I MEAN, NO- I was going to, yes, but- but! Let me explain myself! I swear this makes sense!-, Daera desperately stutters, shaking her head from side to side.

-During all this year, you have been...-, he starts to babble, bemused, feeling his legs failing. She gasps, quickly raising her brows-, you've been fucking your bast-

-I haven't!-. Daera steadfastly interrupted him, taking a step towards him, lifting her head to look at his eye-. Listen to me, Aemond, listen!-. She walks even closer, and her husband sobs, with his throat afflicted, looking at her with despair bathing on his tears-. I was going to tell you, and I was going to do it, yes-. The princess sighs with tiredness, lifting her brows-...For us-, she weakly whispers.

The prince blinks hugely, getting even more scared now, and more lost. Daera tsks her tongue and, afterwards, grabbed both his hands, taking them to her body. Then, they ended up on her belly, feeling it extreme warmness.

Both of them stare at each other. She, with softness. He, with fear.

-For our family-, the princess whispered, heartily. Her husband froze-. I must bed Jace, Aemond, to secure for me a prudent pregnancy...and the safeness of our daughter, or son-. Daera raises her brows, feeling his static fingers on her belly. Inevitably, she gulps, desperated for him to show any reaction-. I ain't doing it for desire!-, she quickly points, honest-. I am doing it for my love for you...and my love for our child-. She mutters with sincerity, and dearness, gripping his hands.

Up until this moment, Aemond had always believed that the worst wrong ever done to him was the merciless mutilation he suffered in the hands of the Strong bastards. Now, when the love of his life has shamelessly confessed to be completely willing to sleep with one of the bastards, to fool him into believing he sired her child, Aemond's believings have changed.

Daera furrows her brows, and her eyes flicker when she feels Aemond's hands departing abruptly from her belly, and sees his body trembling when he gasped in a desperate search of air.

-Aemond-. She names, worried.

The tears began to burn his skin, and the realization his mind. The prince realizes that his wife has known. During all this time. She has known he was to sire a bastard.

-If we could just...go inside-. Daera softly whispers, approaching to him-. We can talk it better in there, its freezing out here-. She says, raising her brows, and seeing him trembling-. I can cook you some sou-

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. Aemond yelled with fury and a shaky throat, abruptly turning to look at her with mad eyes.

Daera freezes in that moment, shocked, opening her eyes big. A roar was heard from Kalistrox, in the skies about. Her heart starts to pound with fear, and confusion. Who is she? What does that even means? How dares he?

-All- all these years! All the shit I have told you that has been done to me! Everything I have said to you!-. Her husband starts to shout, his usual soft voice turned into a sharp raspy one, that of a desperate man-. YOU know how much I have suffered, YOU know everything that has been plucked away from me! And...-, Aemond shakes, as his tears soak the sand below-, AND YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A BASTARD?!-. The prince nearly kneeled when he screamed that, pointing at himself furiously.

Daera's body tremble, but her eyes remain as sober as possible. Breath, she tells herself. It is not the first time dealing with her husband's mindset.

-I carry no bastard-. She simply denies, almost whispering. Aemond breathes fastly in front of her, if he is breathing at all-. You are married to me, and I am married to you. And I will give you a fucking proper child, Aemond-. Her harsh voice states.

-You just said you MUST fuck the wastrel so that no one know I AM the real father of it!-. Aemond reminded with a loud tone, opening his eye big-. THAT, in your belly, IS A BASTARD !-. He heartlessly pointed at her.

Matters to say, it is not either Aemond's first time messing with his wife's mindset. Much she kept herself from exploding too. Until now.

-WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU PROBLEM?!-. Daera shouted with rage. More tears gather in her purple eyes, which are looking at him with hurt and bemusement-. THIS...!-, she grabs her belly with a trembling hand-, is a child! MY child!-. The princess sobs as she walks closer to him, and he shakes his head, feeling it twirling-. Ours!-. Her voice whimpers with despair, curving her brows.

-Ow, fucking hells, DAERA!-. The prince roared desperately, closing his eye and stepping away from her, grabbing his head in the middle of his sobs.

-Yes, I- WE will have to pretend that the babe is Jace's! I am sorry! I too wish things would be different, Aemond, believe me that I do!-. She screams with a broken angry heart, looking for his gaze-. But THIS is our reality, the reality in which we agreed to have a child! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING?!-, Daera yelled loudly, hurting her throat when doing so, wanting him to see the truth.

Aemond opened his mouth, as if he has been about to scream, but air left his lungs, and he whined with weakness, closing his eye, and squeezing his face with his hands under the tearful, upset gaze of his worried wife.

-I have been stupid...-, the prince weeps with shame-, fooled by the fake dream that I could be a father-, he confesses, sinked in sorrow.

-No, no-. Daera sobs, curving her sweaty brows as she hears Kalistrox's strong flappings from the sky-. You can be, Aemond, you can be a parent-. The princess whines, tired, slowly approaching to him-. We can...despite the circunstances-, Daera whispered, looking at the tears hanging on his pointy jaw-...We wouldn't be the first ones-. She brokenly smiles, with hope.

However, her husband brokenly sobbed, and turned his face to look at her, with glum.

-Who are you?-. He repeats, once again, not believing this is his Daera speaking.

His Daera's heart sinked deeper on her chest.

-I AM YOUR FUCKING WIFE!-. She yelled with pain and despair. He keeps treating her like she is insane, like she is the worst person in the world, when all she has done is been the best companion to him, the best listener and comforter. She only wants but a child of him, the purest demonstration of their love. Why is he treating her like this, then? Heartless-. Stop looking at me like that!-. Daera sobbed with weakness, punching his chest with her trembling hands-. I am your wife!-, she repeats, hurted.

-And I love you-, he cries, painful, shaking his head-. But now I am seeing, wife, clearer than ever...-. Aemond covers his mouth for a second, sobing on his hand-...that you indeed are one of them-, the prince declares.

-"Them" who?!-. Daera roars, pushing him again by the chest.

-The law breakers!-. Aemond roars back, seeing blurry due to all of his tears. His wife sighs, breathless, nearly confused, looking at his eye-. You are your father's daughter, no doubt!-, he scoffs, bemused-. Your uncle was coldly murdered today for telling the truth and you- you- you- YOU JUST DON'T CARE!-. The prince accuses with a loud desperate roar, which echoed along the whole island.

Kalistrox roared, menacing, and within a second, Daera did so too.

-HE brought that to his fucking self!-. She yells with her eyes big open, not doubting of her words, remembering all the insults towards her family-. He was reckless!-, she hisses.

-HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE HIS HOUSE!-. Aemond screams, and she scoffs, blinkless-. A house you make fucking part of!! How can you be so cruel?!-, the prince yells, soaked in tears of despondent.

-It is not cruel to protect my family, nor is defending it!-. She instantly defends herself, steady, taking a step forwards-. And if some cunt has to die for that to be achieved, then the cunt must fucking burn!-. Daera roars with fierceness, tilting her head to a side.

Aemond opens his mouth, speechless, his heart almost stopping. Daera sees that face of him, and laughs.

-Ow please, PLEASE, spare the fucking act, husband!-. She hissed from a moment to another, making him to flinch-. Am I my father's daughter? Very well, then you are your mother's fucking son!-. The princess spat her words with poison and quickness, not taking any breath-. Little you talk about your stupid brother! That bloody useless rapist!-. She roars, shaking the arms in where she has the long ugly wounds the same rapist left in her-. Little you talk of the craven your mother is, hiding beneath her cloak all of her son's monstrosities, as the coward she is!-. The princess grunts with taunt and no shame, clenching her teeth.

In that moment, the prince became truly outraged.

-SHUT UP!-. He shouted, as spoiled as his older brother, and his wife laughed once again, taunting him, proving her point. He will not allow it-. You have no right!!-, Aemond hisses, pointing at her, and not even giving her a chance to speak-. STOP DISRESPECTING MY MOM, STOP MOCKING MY RELIGION! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!-. He starts to scream as wild as a peasant on a brothel. His wife's face truly started to get sour, breathing everytime faster before all of his screams to her-. STOP FEELING SO FUCKING ENTITLED TO FUCKING EVERYTHING!-, Aemond roared with madness.

-HOW DARE YOU COMPLAIN TO ME, WHEN IT WAS YOU WHO DID YOUR FUCKING SHOW AT THE FUCKING DINNER, YOU RECKLESS IDIOT?!-. Daera exploded as madly as him, hissing with no breath and, once again, pushing him, now harsher than before. Aemond grunts, closing his fists at the sides of his body-. JESTING ABOUT OUR MARRIAGE, INSULTING MY BROTHERS! YOU-

-AND HERE WE GO, defending them again!-. Aemond laughs with no fun, just as she did before.

-"Strong boys"?! Are you fucking shitting me, Aemond?!-. Daera moves her head from side to side, bemused-. Do you know what my father would have done to you?!-, she asks, scared and angry.

-Daera- FUCK!-. The prince yells, raged, feeling his whole body trembling. The fury caused by hearing Daera defending the brats is one that is beyond compare-. That is the problem, that something happens to the ones that say the bloody truth!-. Aemond roars, filled of despair-. They have you...as their fucking marionette, defending the indefensible-. He taunts with poison.

-Shut the fuck up, Aemond-. She warns, raising her brows. His blood only boils hotter.

-No but they deserve so much more of what I said...That fucking whore's bastards-. Aemond spits his words, narrowing his eye, and making his wife to shiver strongly-. I...-, he shakes his head-...I want to set them on fire-. He whispered.

-Aemond-, she gags, breathless-. Take that back-. The princess mumbles, not blinking once, feeling her heart stopping before the nightmare that flashes in front of her eyes.

He, though, dreams with that nightmare to be true.

-I want to crash Jace's skull, with Ser Criston's morningstar-. Aemond whispers, filled with poison, looking at her. Daera gasps, curving her brows, horrified-. I want to collect everything they owe me-. The prince assures.

-I DARE YOU!-, she shakes with rage and fear, lifting up her brows. She, then, wondered herself why she is feeling that much fear? Does she...believes him capable?

-I want to take an eye out of Luke's face-, Aemond goes whispering, singing, almost smiling to himself while his wife gasps stopless, choking with her own saliva.

-If you put a hand in him...!-, she cries, covering her mouth while the tears pass it.

-Every time I see him, Daera, I just wished I was maiming him until blindness, to leave him so emaciated that not even a sapphire would fits there...-This was his calmest tone of the night, yet so bone-chilling, and gross.

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. The princess screamed, attacking him with his own raving question. That made Aemond's tears to fall faster, and his gaze to fill with surprise-. You- YOU LIVE FOR VENGEANCE! Son of a bitch, YOU LIVE WITH HATE!-, she painly accuses.

-AND YOU WITHOUT HONOR!-, he accuses her back, crying endlessly.

-Well that is how you married me!-. Daera points with her shaky voice. Her throat aches, as well as her chest-. And how I married you as well!-, she sniffs her nose, shaking-. Like it or not, that is how we will have our child, Aemond-. She states, weak but firm, lifting her sweaty brows.

Aemond sobs, staring at the love of his life with sourness, exhaustion...and pity.

-No-, he thinly whispers, starting to take some steps back-...No we won't-. The prince murmurs, turning around, and going into the hut, without announcement.

The princess Daera stays in the same place, shaking, sobing, confused. Her mind is empty, and her heart heavy. The heat of the discussion being so suddenly interrupted left her with no thoughts. She just trembles, alone in there.

Her dragon, Kalistrox, keeps flying around the skies of the island with similar feelings. To be honest, The Golden Ray is rather anxious. He is more than familiar with the discussions his rider has with her husband, they are more than usual. However, this one feels entirely different, so different that he just wants for his dearest to climb on the saddle, to take her away from here. Her husband, familiar to him as well, is acting extremely weird. And he doesn't like it. And where is even Vhagar, in all of this, the man's dragon? Far from his stress and madness, he'd wager.

Vhagar did good in flying away, for she didn't witness what is about to happen. Kalistrox, on the other hand -the princess's poor golden boy-, had no idea of what was to come.

After some moments, Aemond walks out of the hut again. He goes with wary slow steps, his teary gaze down, his thin lips pressed. And a steaming cup on his hands.

Daera's legs trembled within the second.

-No-, the princess says, voiceless-. No, Aemond-. She takes a step back, afflicted.

The prince stops in front of her, still looking down, not having the strength to look at her eyes. He opens his dry trembling lips, not breathing through them.

-Drink it-. He whispered, with his voice broken.

-No, no! No, please!-. In that moment, the princess's whole spirit breaks in two, as well as her soul and heart did-. No, no!-. Her throat aches.

Aemond gulps, handing her the cup. Handing her the Moon Tea.

-PLEASE!-. Daera fell on her knees when she shrieked, not holding herself anymore, not even being able to breath properly anymore-. I want to have my child! I want to have my child!-, she cries brokenly, placing her hands in the sand, and gripping it with force.

The prince gulps, once again, keeping every sound for himself, listening to his wife's cry as his heart, too, breaks in a million pieces. But he must do this. She must.

Aemond kneels as well, in front of her, so mechanically, handing her the cup again, pressing his shaking lips. Breathless, Daera looks at him, with a pain and sorrow greatest than any.

And when she finds him there, with that cursed drink, and those sad but "duty" eyes, she let out a sharp desperate shriek, taking the cup, and throwing it very far away from them.

-NO!-, she yelled.

The cup flew in the air until crashing against a rock from the beach. All the Moon Tea ended up in The Narrow Sea, quickly swimming away from all the despair and anguish of that island.

Aemond just blinked, and stood up, walking back to the hut again. From there, he heard his wife weeping, screaming and pleading from the sand with no end. The prince stumbled on his way, and leaned his forehead against a wall, letting out a silent sorrowful cry, grabbing his own chest with desperation, feeling it so heavy, and shattered.

-Please don't make me do it! Don't make me do it, Aemond, PLEASE! PLEASE, I AM BEGGING YOU!-. Princess Daera had never cried so loudly, so broken and ugly, twitching in the sand as she finds no scape from this feeling.

She had never pleaded before.

-...You allowed me to get you with child, knowing what that would mean...-. Aemond's weak voice gets closer again, and she can hear his steps while she cries and yells-...and you didin't tell me-. He stated, exhausted.

-The- THE BABE WOULD LOOK LIKE ME!-. Daera lifted up her face with despair, and a last hope, clinging to his legs when having him in front of her. Aemond stands stiff, with a new steaming cup in his hands-. I swear it- she- she would look only and just like me! Velaryon genes are stronger! Brown skin, curly hair- I SWEAR IT, AEMOND, PLEASE!-. The princess cries with a lump in her throat, feeling almost unable to talk. His lips tremble, while he watches her sobing weak wife from above-. PLEASE!-, she weeps and whines-. No one will know!-, Daera promises.

-I will!-. Aemond's shaky crying voice answered her. His tears are falling on her cheeks, mixing with her own-. And I- and I have the right to ask you this, because I didn't know, Daera, I didn't! And- and I am...!-. He was about to apologize, but then considered it useless-. I want children, NOT BASTARDS!-. The prince stated, strongly closing his eye.

With that, the princess definitely felt any hope leaving her body. Helpless, she is. Has she been the fool, then, dreaming about this? Was she so wrong, as her husband points her to be...for wanting a family of her own? For wanting...his family?

With the weakest will of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera took the cup from his hands, with her own, trembling. She whines shakily as she gets the cup near to her lips, her dry tired lips. Aemond watches her with endless tears, mouth fully closed.

-Alyssa...-, the saddest weep left her soul. And then, she began to drink it all.

When he started to hear all the gulps, and when he heard his daughter's name, Aemond trembled, and he abruptly turned around, walking long steps away from her.

-Aemond!-, her broken voice calls his name. He ignored it.

He covered his face with both his hands, burying himself in silence, only hearing the endless cries and whines his wife is yelling to the skies when she takes breath to keep drinking the tea. Cries and whines from her he ignored, for the first time ever, for four reasons.

He is convinced this is the right thing to do. He resents the image of her and Jacaerys. He has been dumbly fooled into this. He has all the right to regret it.

Ow, Aemond...when you look back at this night, and recall your own claimings and words, how great the price will be to see...that you were wrong.

A sound brought him out of his thoughts. Another cup, breaking again. The prince turns around, tiredly and slowly, just to find the cup all broken in the sand, with not one drop of tea left in it. She drank it all.

And when he looks upper, his remaining breath left him before the surprise of seeing Kalistrox back in land again, purring worrily towards his rider as she, sobbing, walks to him, almost crawling.

-...Dae-Daera?-. The prince calls, voiceless, slowly turning around.

In the middle of thin weeps, Daera is nearly dragging herself in the sand, holding her own belly while she approaches to her dragon with weak steps. Tired, heart-broken, and now child-less, the princess feels she is melting into the ground with every step she takes.

-Kalistrox-, she weakly calls, looking at him beyond the heavy tears on her eyes. Her golden sweetheart purrs with sorrow, approaching in the sand to make her walk less.

-Daera!-. Her husband calls her with hurry, and a shaky voice, as he turns around, and begins to walk towards her with quickness.

Ignoring him completely, Daera sobs as she climbs Kalistrox's wings up, feeling his scales poking against her bare feet, but she endures it with no pain, already too hurted anyways. She sniffes her nose, reaching her saddle as the tears get her dragon's back wet.

-Daera, no, wait!-. Aemond starts to run when he sees her taking seat-. Daera!-, he tried to reach her.

But The Golden Ray is a jealous dragon, deeply bonded to his rider, and so within a second he faced the prince with his mouth open and a sharp broken roar coming out of it, menacing and harsh, seriously warning him to back off just with the sight of his long shap teeth, and the stains of blood and ash in them.

Shaking, Aemond gasped and walked back with his throat afflicted, seeing his wife unfazed by the menace of her dragon towards her husband. Oblivious to it, she kept crying, and held her saddle tighter.

-Don't leave me alone, please, we need to talk this!-. Aemond insists with despair, and then the golden dragon started to crawl in the sand with quickness, getting ready to take off-. No no, NO, DAERA, DON'T LEAVE!-. He pleads desperately, opening his eye big, and walking backwards-. WE NEED TO TALK IT!-, he begged, heart-broken.

But the princess is too weak at the moment, and unfamiliar to her husband's latter acts of cruelness. Is she to fault, by desiring to leave their talk for later? She is not.

She turns around her face, looking at him for the last time. His skin is red, his eye desperated, his sapphire sad, his lips trembling, his voice begging, his body exhausted, his mind blinded. His all...driven by resentment.

-DAERA!-, she heard, lastly, a cry from him.

Afterwards, Kalistrox took off the island, and within a second he rised in the skies with strong flappings, and heavy-hearted growls, listening to the unstoppable cry of the girl on his back.

That left prince Aemond by himself, in Lovers Island.

He fell on his knees when the golden dragon disappeared from the sight of his only eye. In him, a broken cry lashed out from the bottom of his soul. His fists started to punch the sand, time after time, crying two names to the skies.

Daera, and Alyssa.

He doesn't know how many time he stayed whining in there. He doesn't count how many tears he cried, for that would be impossible. He doesn't know how many curses he threw against the bastards, nor how many prayings he yelled to the gods.

One thing is for sure. Prince Aemond Targaryen fell in the sand, fainted by exhaustion. And when he woke up, he woke up in a new world.

One of war.

■ ■ ■

Again, this night has been too long.

It has been barely two hours since the supper ended, and perhaps a little less. The ship of Princess Rhaenyra and her family is already being prepped in Blackwater Bay, for they are leaving within an hour, back to their dear home, Dragonstone.

The princess Helaena is at a room not proper of hers. She is in Daera's chambers, quietly seated on her bed, expecting for her cousin's arrival while she plays with her fingers, silent, always looking around.

The children, Jahaerys and Jahaera, are with their grandmother in her apartments. Queen Alicent is reading them their usual night time tale, tenderly rocking them in her arms as she reads to them. Afterwards, she will put them to bed, and then go to attend to her husband's own night rutine, for he is being bathed, at the moment, by the masesters.

Helaena, as we know, usually makes company to her children while they are with their grandma. But, in this night, after the supper, she feels that something weird is happening, or will happen. Either way, she came to Daera's chambers, for something tells her that it has to do with her and, besides, they haven't talked in the whole long day.

When the secret doorway of the room is suddenly open, Helaena jumped in the bed, immediately turning to look at there. She was not expecting, at all, to find Daera arriving with such a glum casted on her. Her cousin walked inside in the middle of a crying that it seems it has lasted years, and with steps so weak that it seems she is about to faint.

Helaena's eyed dyes of concern. She didn't wait a second to stand up and quickly run towards her, curving her brows, and looking at her sweaty ones.

-Daera-, she names with worries while she approaches. Then, she notices the long red wounds that are placed in both her arms-. Oh- oh Daera!-, the princess gasps, nearing even quicker to her.

Daera mouthed no word and, instead, she let her body fell into her cousin's arms, not holding herself any longer. Helaena wept with sorrow, instantly hugging her into her arms as tightly as possible, grasping to her as if she was tearing apart, whispering her name a thousand times.

-Daera, Daera, ow Daera...-. The older princess murmurs as she hugs her. Daera cries in her chest with no stop, sinked in pain, hugging her waist tightly, not having the strength to talk.

Helaena asked nothing. She grabed her hands, and started to guide her towards the bed. Daera walked with weariness, but was always held by her cousin's hands, which gave them the strength enough to reach her mattress. When arriving to it, both princesses threw themselves in.

They ended up face to face, with the hands of one in the back of the other, keeping close. Red-faced, Helaena watches Daera's so hurted expression. She is in a true deep pain, which worries her endlessly. Too bad with words, she tries to calm her instead by caressing her hair, doing it as softly as an angel would.

Weakly, Daera blinks in the middle of her weep, noticing Helaena's light tears, which came up to her eyes at the moment of seeing her crying. The brown skinned princess sighs, weary.

-Helaena...-she whispers lowly, placing a hand behind her head, to cup it with her five fingers. The older princess, blinkless, stares at her eyes with her lips open, attentive-. You...-, Daera gulps, ashamed-...you will be aunt no more...-. She, then, confesses, falling in a greater pain.

When the news reached Helaena's ears, the princess didn't hold long a broken sob scaped her mouth, one of confussion and sadness. And not too long after, she was crying as desperately as her cousin, the both of them joining the other on weak whines and sour tears, almost like being one.

■ ■ ■

In Flea Bottom, the night life is at its peak. The streets are filled with people who dance, fight, eat and fuck. The music is loud, as well as the laughs and the screams.

People walk all around from one place to another, doing good things, doing what things, who knows. Between all of them, the prince Aegon Targaryen goes with tired eyes, a drunk smile, a bottle of ale on his hand, and a paramour's hand on the other, but we are not to attend to his matters right now.

At The House of The Roses, in The Street of Silk, moans and grunts of full pleassure go through all the walls of the fine establishment, for the whores are giving to the lords and peasants what they live -and pay- for: cunts.

Dyana heartily ignores so much sound as much as she can. In her private room, she covers her face with her pillow, trying to mute the disgusting sounds that are coming from everywhere. Eternally thankful, though, she is for not being among them.

The mistress of the place, Tulia, was true to her word to the princess. No man has touched not even seen the young girl, Dyana, and she has been properly fed since then as well.

Some knocks from the door turned to be louder than the moans, so the girl immediately hears them, lightly furrowing her brows. Shy, she walks towards her door, not knowing who might be on the other side. For a moment, her mind tricked her into think it was prince Aegon, making her to shiver.

-Who is it?!-. She asks, with a nervous tone.

-We come on the behald of Princess Daera Targaryen, who has asked for your presence at the royal harbour!-. The firm voice of a man answered her from the other side.

Dyana blinks slowly, moveless. She gulps, and speaks again.

-Which is the secret word?-. She asks, firmly.

The princess and the girl, indeed, arranged to have a secret passcode for when the former sends her guards to look for her. A word that only the princess herself could have said to the guards, meaning that they were truly hers.

The man on the other side sighed tiredly, and then he spoke.

-Cunny-, he said with shame.

In that moment, Dyana's eyes lighted up with the greatest of happiness and trusts, immediately opening the doors with a surprised chuckle of relief.

And so, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, Ser Harrold Westerling, gives her a soft sided smile.

It was a matter of time until Dyana was walking out of that brothel with only a small bag carrying her few belongings. The girl walked out with a shiny smile on her face, and four guards of Targaryen armours followed her every step with firmness, along the Lord Commander.

This is being watched at, from a very safe distance, by a pair of very cautious and curious eyes. A thin tall lady of exotic eyes, beautiful face, and a long white gown, looks at the girl being scorted by those royal guards. The happiness on her face doesn't have a price.

Our mysterious lady, The White Worm, narrows her eyes as she analyzes the girl's departure.

-An this all orchestrated by The Dragon's Goodness herself then, is it?-. The exotic accent in her voice asks with interest.

-Yes, my lady...-. The voice of another woman answers behind her.

-And the bodies of those three?-. She tilts her head to a side.

-...There is burned sand in the beach, my lady-. She is answered.

The White Worm furrows her lips into a very tiny smirk, and her eyes narrowed with curiosity, silently nodding.

■ ■ ■

Not too long after, two wheelhouses were coming out of The Red Keep. In one, go the servants and midwives that had joined princess Rhaenyra from Dragonstone. In the other, the princess goes with the lot of her family.

The sky is at its darkest color of the night, for the dawn is still hours away.

The whole family looks exhausted and weary, and they are not to blame, for this two days in the capital definitely were some busy and tiring ones. They are all sleepy, to be honest, though Joffrey and the twins are straight out snoring, shameless.

Before leaving, the kids only said their goodbyes to their grandma, the princess Rhaenys, who would be staying another day in The Keep. The older sister as well kissed goodbye princess Helaena and her godschildren, promising them to be back within two days.

As a matter of fact, princess Daera was actually asked -dearly by Helaena, and politely by Alicent- to simply stay in the castle instead of going back to Dragonstone just to return so instantly, to not tire herself. However, the princess kindly refused the offer, alleging that she wanted to see her family to arrive well. This is a half truth, for she also wants at least those days to be by herself, aparted from Aemond, to think about all the things she has to think of, and to have her sorrows in the privacy of her true home. She will be returning with Rhaenyra, and then she'll treat with Aemond, already with a cold head.

In the royal carriage, Daemon rocks his son, Aegon, with calm, having his eyes closed. Rhaena's head is on Luke's shoulder, resting in there, and he is with his head on hers, also reclined in her. Rhaenyra has Baela's head near her chest, where she calmly breathes, and in Baela's legs Joffrey sleeps with comfort. Jace, slouched, has his arms crossed, and at his side, Daera has Viserys hugged to her chest, rocking him.

The whole family is silent, at the moment, desiring to be abed already. Daera wears a long-sleeved blouse, rare of her, but because she is hiding the wounds of her arms. Her eyes are lost in some blank point, and her eyes shows nothing but dejection. With her heart broken, and an empty belly, the princess's mind bathes in sadness. She can't take Aemond's words and actions out of her head.

Without her knowledge, Jace is constantly eyeing her, silent and shy. He still has no clue of what happened, before in his chambers, when lust suddenly left her, and she became all histeric, just to then leave running. When he saw her again, when all the family gathered to leave, she gave him nothing but a crooked smile and a soft caress in his back. No explanation. And now he sees a sad glim on his wife's eyes, which has him deeply worried, and confused.

In one moment of the trip, Rhaenyra inhales deeply through her nose, raising her brows.

-I think it will be the best for the babes to go in the ship-. She informs, caressing one of Baela's hand-. The night is too cold, for me to take them in Syrax-. The princess adds, and her husband nods in silence, agreeing-...I shall go with them-, she sighs with a little smile, eyeing her twins.

-We'll enjoy your company-, Rhaena smiles at her. She'll be returning home in the ship as well, not in Caraxes's back with her father, as she arrived before.

After hearing his mom, Luke gives slow blinks, thoughtful. He thinks about how, now without a doubt, he'll be the future Lord of The Tides, successor of his grandsire, the legendary Sea Snake. If he wants to fill his shoes, even though he believes he can't, he has to start with something.

-I shall go in the ship as well-. Lucerys informs, surprising most. Daera got out of her thoughts immediately, furrowing her brows a little.

-Very well then-, his mother agrees with a side smile.

-Are you certain, Luke?-. A soft whisper from his older sister, at his side, makes him to slightly clench his jaw, looking down-. You know you get easily greensick-, she murmured, doubty.

-I am most than certain-. He answers with confidence, nodding. Daera curves her brows, sighing.

-Well, perhaps I shall join you too-. She tries to smile, tilting her head.

-No-. Luke denied within the second, almost trembling. Everybody goes speechless-. I can by myself!-. He stated as firm as he could, not looking at her.

Rhaenyra blinks hugely, staring at her son with confusion, while the others gulped and kept silent, leaving the boy with his decision.

When he answered her like that, Daera simply looked away, slowly. She feels her heart aching, as well as her belly, not understanding why he had to talk to her like that. Why is everybody treating her this way?, her already sad mind complained. The princess looks down at her arms, finding the innocent and beautiful babe in there. Viserys. Daera fights against tears that fighted back to come to her eyes, sour and tired ones. Oh, Alyssa...

Moments later, the royal carriage made its first stop. The royal harbour.

-Alright, this is us-. Rhaena sighs, being the first one in standing up. Luke quickly followed, pressing his lips.

While Daera stood up with carefulness, holding Viserys while opening the carriage's doors, Rhaenyra also stood up, and headed to her husband with her hands opened.

-Hmm-, Daemon hums lowly, carefully handing her Aegon.

-There we go-, Nyra cooes with tenderness, taking the babe, and leaning front to the prince-. I'll see you later-, she whispers.

-Yeah-, The Rogue Prince mumbles, giving a quick lovely kiss of farewell to his wife, who smiled to him with warmth.

-There-, Daera hands Viserys to Rhaena, who takes with with care, hugging him to her chest-. Alright-, she sighs, turning around, and coming down of the carriage with a single jump.

-Wait- where are you going?-. Baela asks with confusion, having Joffrey still sleeping on her legs.

-I will receive someone in here-. Daera informs, making her family to blink with curiosity, except Jace, who already know what she's talking about-. I'll head to the beach from here, anyways, Kalistrox is there-. She reminds, helping Rhaenyra to walk down the stairs.

-Right-, her step-mother nods with interest, caressing her belly. Daera glanced at it for a quick second, gulping.

-See you in Dragonstone!-. Rhaena waves her hand to the carriage, while she and Luke, carrying both twins, head towards their ship.

-See you!-. Baela farewells with a tired smile, while Daemon briefly waved his hand too towards them.

From his seat, Jace stares at Daera with his lips open, wanting to say something to her, anythinh. She, after sighing, looks back at him, and creates a tiny smile in her closed mouth.

-I'll meet you in the skies-, the princess says towards her family. And after her father hummed, she closed the doors with a light push.

Afterwards, the carriage is again pulled by the horses, going away. Baela, Jace, Joffrey and Daemon now are heading to the Dragonpit, where they'll mount Moondancer, Vermax, Tyraxes and Caraxes to fly back home.

The royal harbour is some quiet nice place, where only the sailors are around besides the family, getting ready the last tiny details for the royal family to set sail. The seas are calm, and the sky starry.

Daera stays firmly standing, in silence, crossing her hands over her belly, and keeping a weary face. Luke and Rhaena walked to the ship with the twins, being accompanied by the loyal midwives, Relia and Joveth.

Rhaenyra planned to follow their path. But, honestly, how could her? It was not hard to notice the sadness on her older step-daughter's face. Generally, Daera is good at hiding her true emotions, but at the moment she is just so tired and burned out that she has forgotten about keeping her face masked, which made her step-mother's heart to ache.

-Daera...-, Nyra's voice gets closer, causing the girl to flicker briefly, turning her head to look at her.

-Uh, yeah?-. Daera forces a smile, tilting her head.

-I see your sadness, child-. The older princess confesses as she approaches. Daera opens her lips, surprised-...Has something happened?-, she asks, so softly, arriving in front of her.

The brown-skinned girl blinks with exhaustion, looking down. Her momentary weakness allowed tears to gather in her eyes, especially when she glanced at the bulged belly of The Heir. Six months in, what a marvel. For a brief time, Daera truly hoped she could have the joy of that, of bearing a child of the man she loves. But turned out he suddenly desired he didn't want the same, and made her to...get rid of it.

Daera presses her lips strongly, afflicting her throat with sorrow. Rhaenyra instantly flickered, furrowing her brows with worry.

-I just...-the young princess sniffs her nose, gulping-...I just have been thinking about my mother-. With a thin voice, and a heavy feeling, she says a half true-. You know that I, all of a sudden, am thinking of her...from time to time...-, she whispers.

Rhaenyra blinks, sighing briefly. There are times -most of them- when she truly forget she is not the mother of Daemon's daughters. She has tended to Daera, Baela and Rhaena since they were all little girls, the older eleven, and it would be a lie to say that she doesn't feels they are her own.

But, keeping those thoughts to herself, she draws a small sad smile on her lips, slowly taking the girl's hands in hers, making her to look up again.

-I, too, am always thinking about my mother-. Rhaenyra confesses with a soft whisper, staring at her teary eyes-. I, too, miss her much, days and nights...-, she nods, heartily.

Daera gulps, holding herself as much as she can from starting to cry her soul out in mere harbour. She gives her a little smile, one that Nyra answered with dearness, caressing her hands.

-There would be no problem, at all, if you wish to join us in the ship-. The Heir mumbles with easiness, shrugging. Daera blinks, almost convinced, opening her lips-. There are still left some biscuits of your grandma, and...we'll boil tea, to make them some company, what do you say?-. Rhaenyra warmly smiles, tilting her head.

The mention of tea made the princess to instantly back down, shivering, for she immediately thought about the boiling Moon Tea her husband made her to drink. Now that she thinks of it, it seems that he had already prepared it, before she even arrived and before they even began to discuss about the child, because the tea was boiling as if it had just been taken from the fire.

-Umm-, Daera gulps strongly, furrowing her lips-. Um, no, no, I rather fly with Kalistrox-. She affirms, gulping again, and forcing a smile-. I want to...uh, arrive as soon as possible, to finally sleep-. She lets out a brief giggle, raising her brows.

-Very well-. Rhaenyra agrees with easiness, caressing her hands-. But, if you wish to speak about our mothers, or anything at all, when we arrive home...know that we can do it-. She tenderly whispered to her, taking a step forward.

Daera stares at her with a tired smile, silently nodding. It is not to doubt, that the relationship between she and Rhaenyra changed completely after the day she became the mother of her baby brothers, when she stood by her side in the birthing bed at all moments. Nyra's easiest childbirth ever.

-Thank you...-, the young princess whispers.

Rhaenyra reads her face with the dearest of smiles, sighing in silence through her nose.

-Princess Daera, princess Rhaenyra-. The voice of the Lord Commander made both Targaryen women turn around, still holding hands-. Your ward, princess-. Harrold nods towards the younger.

With him, a young blond girl of green eyes stands with nerves, and a shy smile, looking at Daera. She instantly smiled back at her, while Rhaenyra tilted her head with curiosity.

-Thank you very much, Ser Harrold-. Daera smiles to him, and he nods, also with a little smirk-. You may go now, Ser, I'll see you in two days-. She dismisses him with gentleness.

-Arrive well, my princesses-. The Lord Commander nods, to then turn around, and walk out from the royal harbour.

-Pri-princesses...-, timidly, Dyana bows her head to them. She carries in her hand a dirty small white bag.

-No need, sweetling-. Daera speaks with softness, and then she shares a look with Rhaenyra, who raises her brows with interest-. This is Dyana-, she introduces her with a smile.

-Dyana-, Nyra smiles towards the girl, curious.

-If it pleases you-, she is fast to say, smiling nervously.

-Dyana will be joining us to Dragonstone-. Daera informs to her step-mother-. Hands are never not of need-, she adds, softly speaking.

-We agree-. Rhaenyra mumbles, knowing that there is obviously more story to this girl, but she decided to keep her curiosity for another moment-. Come, let me take you to our ship-. Gentle, she nods towards her.

Briefly, Dyana glances at the younger prince, who nods with a little smile to her. Afterwards, the young girl gulps, excited, and starts to walk with The Heir to The Iron Throne, guided by her.

-Is this all you bring with you, sweetheart?-. Rhaenyra softly asks, placing a hand on her back, and looking at the small bag.

-Uh, yes, princess-. Dyana answers, shyly.

-That is alright...-, The Heir smiles at her.

Daera breathes deeply in, filling her lungs with the fresh air of the night, giving herself strength. Then, she nods, turning around, and beginning to walk in the opposite direction to the ship, staring forwards.

Rhaenyra turned her head for a second to look at her. And, from the boat, Lucerys also looked at his older sister, seeing her walking away without looking back. He gulps, already feeling greensick.

Once again, Daera is now walking through the beach, with the wind blowing all her hair and skirt as she walks forwards at all times. Tears are rolling her cheeks down, again, but her face is made of stone, and her jaw clenched.

Little does she knows what is about to happen.

Kalistrox growls with familiarness as he sees her approaching, already offering her his wing.

Little does she knows this is not the worst pain she had felt.

Daera breathes with steadiness as the tears roll down her face, and she takes seat in her saddle, fiercely.

Little does she know that she has yet to have the most painful loss of her life.

Luke sees at the sails hoisting. Rhaena cooes the twins with a smile. Rhaenyra rubs her belly. Baela caresses Moondancer's neck. Daemon smirks when he sees Caraxes. Jace mounts Vermax with confidence. Helaena brushes her hair in her balcony. Jaehaerys babbles in her knees. Rhaenys sleeps in her chambers. Aemond lies, fainted, in Lovers Island.

Little does she knows...how stained her hands will be.

Kalistrox let out a sharp mighty roar when he rised in the skies with power, flapping his big golden wings as his rider holds her saddle with force and strength, going with her lips opened, and her eyes tearfully serious.

When that mighty roar shook the city, the people of King's Landing looked up, the people in The Dragonpit looked up, the people of The Red Keep looked up, and the people in the royal ship did so too.

And, while everyone looked at The Golden Ray soaring powerfully in the skies, The Rogue Princess turned her head to look only at one place, to the castle. She wrinkled her lips, gulping her sour sad tears, thinking about The One-Eyed Prince.

Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #the dance of the dragons #aemond targaryen #targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfic #if villain bad why hot #daera targaryen #oc x aemond targaryen #original writing #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

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Word

Dumbledore asked calmly vibes

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #daemon is so funny wtf #also a murderer but funny tho #targaryen #if villain bad why hot #original writing #the dance of the dragons #from my own story hehe

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

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" So Be It "

《 Jacaerys Velaryon 》

The princess Daera Targaryen, Prince Jacaerys's brave sister wife, is secretly weded to the Prince Aemond Targaryen, for he is her true love. However, when The One-Eyed Prince and herself start to dream of children of their own, she recognizes what is to be done to hide the true parentage of the child: she needs to bed her "fake" husband, Jace, who may yet be a total gentleman, but finds himself melting under the enchants of his lady wife. Literally.

¤ Jacaerys Velaryon x OC Character [ Daera Targaryen, older daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Laena Velaryon ]

ACLARATIONS:

¤ Word count: 2.5K

-This piece is actually belonging to a much larger fic of my own, The Invitation, about Aemond Targaryen. This part is belonging to the 7th chapter of the second season, The Dance of The Dragons, but turned out so great that I just had to publish it as a one stand and. besides. I feel there is a scarce of Jace's fics, so I wanted to cooperate :)

-As this was not written as a one-shot, there might be a little lore during the chapter, but I edited it a little so all may be understandable. So, SPOILERS of my fics.

-But, to be clear from now on: Jace and Daera are married since a year ago, as well as Aemond and Daera (in secret). They are cousins, but have always refered as "sister" and "brother" to each other for they literally grew together in Dragonstone and are really close, as well as the rest of the siblings (Daemon and Nyra's children). As they were forced to wed by The Greens and The Blacks after Daera was found coupling with The One-Eyed Prince (which they obviously hated, and it was Jace himself the one who proposed the betrothal to "save his sister"), their marriage is sort of a solution, hence why they have never had none sexual interaction. They've only just kissed, and not even many times. Right now, at the moment, the whole family is at King's Landing, and it is the afternoon after Vaemond Velaryon was murdered in The Iron Throne room. And...yeah, I think that covers all the important things.

-Jacaerys is eighteen already in this fic, matters to say, and Daera is nineteen.

So, shall we begin?

Warnings: cursing, infidelity [Daera is Aemond's wife], dry-humping, first sexual experience [Jace's], sub!Jace, incest [brotherXsister]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy :)

《 ... 》

Princess Daera is at her chambers of The Red Keep, at the moment, standing in her balcony as she, serenely, caresses her belly, feeling its flatness, but dreaming about the day it will be buldged with the babe already inside.

Her dearest love, Aemond, just yesterday put inside her their upcoming child, during the romantic evening they shared at their secret place. Her daughter, Alyssa, as they both would love to name her, is already within her body, ready to grow into a beautiful strong dragonrider.

How exciting this is?

-Daera?-. Some knocks in the door, and a voice from behind it, made the princess to turn her head around, calmly-. Are you in there?-. Jacaerys asked, politely.

-Come!-. She allowed, getting her hands off her belly, and walking to the insides of her chambers again.

Jace comes into the room, greeting her with a kind smile. She copies it, as he closes the door.

-Oh, you come alone?-. Daera raises her brows, smiling.

-Uh, yeah! Yeah-. Jace nods, raising his brows again-. I was walking through the gardens with Rhaena and Luke, but I left them alone, and they didn't even notice-. He narrates funnily, walking.

The princess laughs funnily.

-They are so silly-, she mumbles, burlesque.

-They definitely are-. He agreed, jumping and falling on her bed with total confidence. Daera scrunches her lips, amused, with her back leaning on a wall-. Ohh, great, I've been walking all day-. The prince sighs, comfortable, crossing his hands behind his head.

-Do not deprive yourself from the comforts of my mattress, then-. She huffed, and he laughs funnily, laying in there.

-Uhh, Baela sat to sew with some ladies of the courts, gossiping-. He keeps telling, and she snicker amusedly, rolling her eyes-. And, lastly, Lady Beesbury is pampering Joffrey with endless cakes-, Jace sighed, smiling.

-Oh, very fucking good, the boy fawns over desserts-. Daera nods with her brows furrowed, and he copied her, calmly breathing.

The princess sighs, leaning the back of her head on the wall.

-Well, then I am fucking glad of being your last resort-. Daera jokes with a snicker, tilting her head.

Jacaerys immediately gasped, raising his head to look at her with his eyes wide open.

-No no no, you are not, I am sorry!-. He instantly denies, shaking his head. She laughs maleficently, clapping-. Do never think that, Daera-. The young man tsked his tongue-. You are my wife-, he remembered with a low voice, almost to himself.

Daera blinks when she hears him. She clicks her teeth a little, and thinks about Alyssa.

She has, indeed, thought about the fact that she obviously will have to say that the babe borned to her, will be Jace's. To be honest, she has thought of it since the idea was put in the table by herself and her husband.

To be far more honest, she is completely up for it, if that means that she will have her child. Daera knows the matter is delicate, hence why she hasn't asked Aemond, and also because they haven't had time. However, she knows he'll have to agree on this, because they both want children, and they obviously can't wait that many years from here until she has the power of queenship.

Princess Rhaenyra, when she was weded to Ser Laenor Velaryon, long may he rest, had an explicit agreement with him, regarding the parentage of their children. They were fathered by Ser Harwin Strong, of course, but there was not one moment when Laenor didn't supported that, discreetly. She didn't have to bed him, when they finally got things clear, and so the princess freely had her children with the man she loved at the time, and beared them with endless dearness.

Princess Daera, though, does not posses that kind of discrecy with her husband, Jacaerys Velaryon, for he is extremely loathe of her true husband, Aemond Targaryen. She cannot whisper to his ear if he would allow her to have The One-Eyed Prince's children and accept them as his.

So...she has to bed him. And if that is what she ought to do to give birth to Aemond's sons and daughters, then so be it.

Daera lifted her gaze back to him. Just with that single move, something changed in the air of the room.

Jacaerys, lying on her bed, looked back at her, with his arms still crossed behind his head. He opens his lips, having felt that switch of ambience.

-And- and about the thieves, the ones you killed, umm...-Jace clears his throat-, uhh- wow, must have been quite an experience, huh?-. He asks, lifting his brows with extreme interest.

-Um, I suppose it was-. The princess shrugged, calmly heading towards the bed. He gulps, nodding.

-Yeah. Did- did they do something- something bad, after all?-. Jace curves his brows, clearing his throat again.

-I cut their hands before they could-. Daera softly whispers, reaching the bed, and beginning to climb on it. The brown-haired boy gulps, only looking at her eyes-. I wasn't going to wait for the damage to be done-, she says.

-Smart-, he nods-. You...you didn't wait, then-. He whispers.

-I always do what I want-. The princess mumbled, lying over her shoulder, and looking at his eyes with deepness.

Jacaerys gulped, again.

Afterwards, he couldn't stop his eyes anymore, and they glanced down to her near body. He started having those thoughts again when staring at the curvature of her waist and the thickness of her thighs behind her red skirt, when looking at the generosity of her neckline, where her covered breasts come up and down along her slow breathing.

Jacaerys thinks to himself how he is husband to the most beautiful and, forgive his bluntness, most sensual woman of The Seven Kingdoms. Countless are the men that would kill for having her touch, not to say for having her as their wife. Her smell is said to drive man insane, and he is a victim himself. While those men kill each other for the princess...he has her lying right beside him, on the bed.

Inevitably, the brown-haired gets nervous, gulping yet again, and moving a little on the mattress.

-What do you think we'll have for- uh- supper, tonight?-. He asks, curious.

The princess looks at him, centimeters away from his face.

-What do you fancy?-. She questioned back, whispering, taking all the breath of his lungs.

She knows what she is doing.

Jace hums, closing his eyes, and not keeping himself anymore from granting her a kiss. Daera sighs heavily, closing his eyes as well, and answering to his lips with slowness.

The spouses both kiss each other in total silent, sensing the fresh breeze that comes from balcony. Jace places his hand on her cheek, caressing it, and she places her hand behind his neck, pushing closer. He moaned, surprised, and then again when she started to go faster with her lips. The prince shakes, answering the best he could.

Jacaerys feels her hand starting to caress his hair. She is his sister, and this is not at all the first time she caress his mane like that, but this time was completely different. She hided her whole hand into his brown jungle, caressing it deeply, and then gave him a little pull, making to grunt, and to feel a prominent tickle in the between of his legs.

-Daera-, he whispered, breathless, when the kiss ended.

-Yes?-, she mumbles, playing with her lips around his, breathing around them. He sighs, bemused, mesmerized by her purple eyes-. Do you want me to show you?-, she proposes, with a thread of voice.

-What?-, he sighs, in trance.

Daera thinks about Aemond. This is not infidelity, she convinces herself. Is not. She doesn't wishes to ask him wether "if she can", because that would only bring a really big unnecessary discussion, and she knows it, and prefers go avoid that. Since when does she asks for permission? She will tell him, and that is it. This is something that must be done, for their child.

The Rogue Princess, in all of her cockiness, grabs the hands of her brother, and makes him to quickly move in the bed. Mesmerized, he follows every move she made him do. And, within three seconds, he ended up seated in the mattress, leaning his back on the back of the bed.

Daera meets their lips again, kissing him first, for the first time ever. Jace sighs, furrowing his brows, moving his nervous hands on the sheets under. Afterwards, the princess climbs on top of him, and suddenly, she ended up seated on his leather pants's lap.

In that moment, Jace let out the strongest of moans, opening his mouth and eyes with surprise, and fascination. He looked down, shocked, seeing her open legs wrapped around his, clenching his sides. He breathes fast, turning as red as a tomato, nodding with silliness.

-Seven heavens-, he whispers.

His wife grabbs him by the neck, and starts kissing him again, stoppless. The prince moaned from deep his throat, wrinkling the sheets on his hands, not daring to place them on her, though he so much wants it. Daera, aware of his lack of touch, thanked it, and kept kissing as if she didn't notice.

The princess gripped his body with her legs and, afterwards, she started to circle her hips around him, dancing over his lap. Jacaerys straight out whimpered inside of her mouth, speechless, closing his eyes strongly. His heart started to beat so fast as his pants grow everytime tighter before the strong touches of her. Oh gods, he is feeling something. There is that thing under her skirt, in the between of her legs, rubbing against what is the between of his. It is so soft, even with the fabric in the middle, and is making him go insane.

Daera broke the kiss, opening her lips into a moan that will shame herself for the rest of her life. She wasn't expecting a sudden punch in her core by the pants of Jacaerys, and she definitely wasn't expecting such a thick and beefy cock, his, pushing against her. The princess blinks multiple times, thinking of Aemond, seeing his eye on her mind.

-Fuck-, she sighs, rocking her hips and making her dressed cunt to pamper Jace's awaken cock.

-Oh, gods-. The prince sighed as well, so silly and blushed, not believing The Rogue Princess got him this hard, with just seconds. He has never had a woman touching him like this, until now, less meandering above his dick-. Sister-, he moans, weak.

-I could not wait more-. She whispered against his lips, taking his hands, and interlocking their fingers. He groans, looking at her with teary brown eyes, constantly peering at her wrinkled skirt rubbing endlessly against his erection-. I know you want me, brother-. She seduced him with a honeyed voice.

-I do, I do-. His weak breath answers, with his chest coming up and down. Daera bites her lips, placing their united hands above of his head, trapping them in the back of the bed. Jace moans, feeling he is losing his mind-. I am sorry-, he whispered, blushed.

-Ouh do not be-. She sing-songs, tilting her head, and leaning it closer to his, watching at his eyes. He breathes fastly, seriously starting to believe his sister is some kind of witch. How does she holds so much power?-...I want you too, Jace-. Daera forced herself to say.

Jacaerys opened his mouth, moaning, and she took him by surprise by kissing again, now bringing out her tongue unexpectedly, making him to flinch and moan louder than before. He feels her expert tongue licking the most sensible part of his mouth and lips. She bites his lips, and then kisses them with slowless as her hips keep moving. He does as much as he can, also using his tongue, and licking hers with his, groaning when finding the sweet flavour of her saliva.

-Daera-, Jace breathes fastly. She humms, licking above his lips while he said her name. He whimpers, trembling whole, unbelievable-. I- I can't-, he whines, seeing her tongue, intimidated by the arrogance of it, and ashamed by the inexperience of his.

-You can-, she promised him, whispering, making the most perfect circles with her hips. The prince cries, not knowing that he is being really loud.

They are dry-humping in Daera's bed, filling the air with fast breaths and loud moans, feeling their private areas touching and rubbing harshly against each other under the fabric of their clothes. Jacaerys feelis his cock twitching and pulsing, and Daera is ashamed to admit that her cunt is somewhat wet, not having resisted to the strength of the prince's manhood, it is so meaty.

Nothing will ever compare to Aemond, she says to herself, trying to only picture him.

-Sister-, Jacaerys whispers when they ended another kiss, and he groans when seeing a thick thread of saliva hanging between their lips-. Daera-, he names with no breath, feeling her harsh grip on his trapped hands, and her fast moves on his strong cock-. Daera!-, he moans sharply.

She kisses his lips for a second, and then again, and then again, and then abruptly gets her tongue into them again. Jace cried loudly, melting under her, and answering with weakness, for he is just overwhelmed by all the pleassure that he never had even a little taste of before in his life.

-Daera!-. Jace's body suddenly tensed up completely, and his factions all wrinkled as his mouth let out the biggest of moans, shaking and trembling under her.

The princess grips his hands harder, and makes slow circles with her core over his cock when she felt it twitching endlessly. Jace whines time after time, with his chest coming up and down, and his face turning even more red than before.

He saw stars in his closed eyes, and when he opened them, found the brightest of them.

Daera breathes fast in front of him, with his saliva around her mouth, and strands of hair in the middle of her sight. Jace moans weakly, blinking slowly, staring at her with his mouth opened. The dance of hips has ended, and now he just feels a pulsing thing still against his pants.

The princess quietly blinks, furrowing her lips while she looks at him with a silly expression, blinkless. The prince, with no breath, gulps strongly.

-Le-...let me go clean myself-. He whispers, completely blushed.

Daera blinks bigly, foolishly starting to nod.

-Of course, of course-. She starts to get off him, kneeling on the bed at his side. Jace moaned lowly shen she moved. Inevitably, his sister glanced at his pants, finding a remarkable bulk in there.

The princess opens her mouth, bemused. It is bigger than Aemond's, for the fuck's fucking fucks.

Jace gets off the bed, and she flinches when he limps.

-I'm fine, I'm fine!-. He instantly assured, raising his hands. She blinks, seeing him slowly walking away-...More than fine-, he foolishly whispered.

Heading onto the washroom, Jace blinks in shock, feeling how his undergarments are literally soaking with cum, endlessly. He'll have to run to his rooms, right now, to take an immediate bath.

The prince sighs, not believing that he just had his first sexual experience, and what a experience it was.

《 ... 》

Masterlist of the main story, if it interest you ♡

#house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacerys velaryon #house velaryon #house targaryen #oc character #oc character house of the dragon #jace velaryon x oc character #smut #fanfic #the dance of the dragons #+18

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camilbarnessss · 1 year

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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 7 》

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, mentions of murder, angst, dry-humping, infidelity, family drama, family toxicity, mentions of rape, rape threats, fight, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Comments, likes and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

As it constantly happens when they are at The Red Keep, the whole of the family of The King's first daughter is gathered at one only chamber, Rhaenyra and Daemon's one.

Said spouses are seated together in a comfortable couch. Though the seat is large enough, they are as close to each other as they can. They are holding hands, placed on their legs, which she sometimes moves from side to side, making him to lowly giggle.

-And what happened after that?!-. Joffrey asks, excited.

They all keep silent for three seconds.

-Uh...then...-, Jacaerys, seated on the bed, raises his brows-...Ser Vaemond said that we are...dumb-, he narrows his eyes, doubty.

-He did?!-, Joff gasps, covering his mouth.

Daemon opens his eyes big, sharing a burlesque glance with Rhaenyra.

-Yeah, something- something like that-. Baela nods as she, also sitting in the bed, rocks little Viserys.

-Wao! And what happened after that?!-. The little boy questions, again, still excited.

They made silence again.

-Afterwards, after that, next...-Lucerys, standing besides the couch, tries to speak, but he just shakes his head with doubt.

-Speak, woman!-. Joffrey tsks, Luke gasps ofended and Daemon laughed sharply.

-After that, Ser Vaemond also commented that Nyra...-softly, Rhaena raises her brows. All the grown ups look at her with caution, and the little boy with curiosity-...that she is...silly-, she narrows her eyes.

-Yeah-, Daera mumbles with doubt, rocking little Aegon as she walks through the room.

-WHAT?!-. Joffrey immediately shivered, opening his eyes big-. Mom! Is- is that true?!-, his worried voice asks, turning to look at her.

His siblings made sweet faces of pity, glancing between them. Daemon created a soft smile towards the boy, while Rhaenyra gasped with tenderness.

-Oh- oh, yes, he did! But I didn't listen to him, so you must not worry, my boy-. She smiles gently, curving her brows.

-Are you sure?-, Joff mumbles.

-I am sure, sweetling, come here-. Nyra nods sweetly, palming her legs. The boy immediately smiles, running towards there, and climbing to her legs with a smile-. There we are!-, she hugs his waist, smiling.

The others laughed, moved. With calmness, Daemon blinked and passed a hand on Joffrey's brown mane, caressing it two times.

-He was sillier than me, anyways-. Rhaenyra mumbled burlesque to her boy, funnily scrunching her nose. He chuckled, and Luke, having heard that, blinked with thoughtfulness, looking down for a moment when thinking of Vaemond.

-Alright-, Joffrey giggles.

-He's finally done with the questions-. Baela mumbled, relieved, and Jace noded with his brows up.

-And what happened after that?!-. Joff asks excited, jumping on his mother's legs.

Silence again.

-Then...-, Daera blinks, rocking Aegon-. Vaemond surrended and, and he sailed far, far away-, she answers.

-Where to?-, Joff sweetly asks.

-Really far-. Luke instantly says.

-You don't know the name of where he sailed to?!-. The boy tsks his tongue.

-Canada-. Daera answered without a second thought. They all looked at her, highly confused-, which is near...The Dothraki?-, she narrowed her eyes.

-Yeah yeah, way too far-. Jace nods quickly.

-But don't ask anyone, don't-. Rhaena shakes her head.

-They'll tell you weird things-, Luke backed his betrothed, noding.

-Works for me-. Joffrey shrugged, smiling-. And what-

-I think that you still ought to congrat your broher, curious little man!-. Rhaenyra interrupted him before he could ask another question, pinching his ribs and making him laugh. Luke smiles a little, looking at them-. He still will be Lord of Driftmark-, she proudly mumbles, turning to look at him.

Everyone in the room glanced at Lucerys with pride, and they all started to clap when Rhaena did so. They cheer him funnily, making the blue-eyed boy to blush strongly, laughing with a smile.

Joffrey claps excitedly, looking at his big brother with a loving admiring shine on his brown eyes.

-This celebration requires wine-. The Rogue Prince said, raising his brows-. Daera-, he named.

-Already on it-. She smiles cockily, walking to the dining table as she rocks Aegon.

-You will not fetch booze while holding your brother-. Rhaenyra reproached with a tired expression.

-Yeah she will-, Daemon snorted.

-Yeah she will-, Daera grabs the bottle of wine.

Jace, Baela and Joffrey laughed funnily while Rhaena and Luke rolled their eyes, as well as Rhaenyra.

Daera hands a goblet of wine to her father, who grabbed it with a cocky smile on his face, thanking her with a hum.

-When my girls were Aegon and Viserys's age, they already would have supper with a cup of beer by their side-. Daemon showed off, movings his hands in the air.

-That explain some things-. Jacaerys joked, and his whole family laughed funnily-. Good one, Jace!-. He whispered to himself.

-I used to puke it-, Rhaena remembered with a bored expression. Her sisters and father sighed.

-Hells-, Baela tsks, recalling all those puking nights.

Daera walks towards her father again, now holding her own cup in one hand, and Aegon in the other. They toasted with their goblets, smiling.

-Husband and wife both are too fond of wine, it seems-. Rhaenyra raises her brows, glancing at Daera, and then at Jace, with reproach.

-Ow, mother-. He tsked his tongue.

-I have not forgotten yet your too much fun on your last name day, when you turned eight and ten-. His mom recalls with burlesque eyes.

Daemon laughs sharply.

-He puked more than me-, Rhaena mumbled.

-Hells, he drank more than me!-. Daera huffs.

-That says a lot-, Lucerys scratched his head-. Wow, you really did puke a lo-

-Enough!-. Jace tsks his tongue again.

-And, today, who died?-. Joffrey asked from a moment to another.

They all froze in that moment, opening their eyes big. They look at the boy, who is calmly smiling.

-Why do you ask?-. Lucerys mumbles.

-Because Daera is covered in blood-, Joffrey pointed at his older sister.

All the eyes look at her too. Turns out that the princess haven't changed her clothes yet, nor hasn't given herself a bath after brutally murdering those men in Flea Bottom. So her skirt and hair are still red-dotted.

-Oh, fuck, I forgot about that-. Daera mumbles, looking at Aegon with a face-. I forgot about that-, she funnily whispered at him. The babe chuckles loosely.

-I do think there is an interesting story behind your look-. Rhaenyra raises her brows, interested.

-I think that too-, Daemon mutters, sipping the wine.

-Oh well, what is there to tell?-. Daera sighs, shrugging as she walks around with easiness-. I can give you the short story, though, if you want-. She proposes, drinking.

-Yes-, her siblings immediately agreed. The princess humss, carefully moving her golden cup.

-Uhh, ah! Well, do you remember those thieves, in the shelter?-. She asks, looking at Jace, who immediately noded, as well as the others. Daemon and Nyra blink curiously-. Well, hehehe, I found them today again, and I shoved my sword up their fuckings a-

She shuts herself up, quickly glancing at Joffrey, who tilted his head with an innocent interest. Rhaenyra looked at her warningly, asking for caution.

-I mean- I, uhh, threw them rocks-. Daera answers-. Tiny rocks-, she adds. Her siblings glance at each other, mouth-opened, clearly knowing that was a lie.

She murdered them.

-And what are all those red stains, then?-. Joffrey aks confusedly, pointing at her mane.

-Raspberries were thrown at me-. Daera quickly answers.

-Works for me-, the boy smiles.

-Their own raspberries, actually...-, she mumbled, burlesque, looking at the others.

She is covered in their blood.

Even though being entirely familiar with their sister's remarkable rogueness from time to time, they shivered from deep their bodies, wondering how violently she must have killed them to end up that covered with brains.

Totally use to her husband's own doings, Rhaenyra just sighed tiredly, noding before the ones of her stepdaughter's. The Rogue Prince himself, being the proudest of the room, raised his cup towards his older daughter.

-To the raspberries!-, his sharp voice toasted.

-To the raspberries-, she smiled funnily, lifting her goblet.

Daera slowly drinks. Matters to say that she didn't fetched herself wine, as it would have been expected. She carries a child inside her now and, even though she was a little reckless, earlier in the morning, by taking some sips from Rhaenys's cup, she is determinated to don't again. The seed was barely put into her yesterday, yes, she knows! But...better safe than sorry, right?

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, also remembering all the situation with Dyana, and her raping by Aegon. The princess shivers, but decides to not share it just yet, for there is definitely not a sugar-coated way of saying it in front of Joffrey.

The doors of the chambers are knocked, interrupting the family's chat. Daera, as she is closer to it, planned to go.

-I'll go, I'll go-. Jacaerys immediately stood up instead, for she is carrying Aegon, and wouldn't want her to struggle to open the door.

Daera gave him a little smile, placing her empty cup back on the table, and rocking her baby brother in the middle of sweet hums, as well as Baela is doing with Viserys.

Jace opens the door, curious.

-Ser Arryk-, he greets, raising his brows.

Daera quickly turns her head to look at there.

-Its Ser Erryk, my prince-. The knight politely corrected, not wearing his helmet at the moment.

-Oh, come on, Jace-. The young man tsks, opening the door fully-. Forgive me, Ser, please do come in-. He allowed, and so he did.

The Rogue Princess blinked dryly, only looking at the feet of the knight, and then she simply looked away from him, attending only to the sweet Aegon. She only remembers that Ser Erryk was an accomplice in the cunt Aegon's rape.

-Ser Erryk-, Rhaenyra sighs with a greeting smile.

-My princes-, Erryk greets the whole family, noding. Rhaena smiles softly at him-. I come with an invitation from The King and The Queen-, he informs.

Nyra blinks, briefly scrunching her lips. She looks at Daemon, who only sighed in the insides of his cup. Daera rocks Aegon with a sour expression when hearing The Queen being named.

-An invitation to our ship to leave, I suppose-. The Rogue Prince hopes, opening his hand-. Can't stand one more day in this well-, he mumbles, discomforted, glancing at his children.

-Daemon-, Rhaenyra reproaches him, lowly.

For the briefest second, Erryk's blue eyes quickly glanced at princess Daera, who is with her back to him, silently standing. He sees the blood in her skirt and white hair, and for another brief instant he looked at her naked waist, and the belt with weapons wrapped in it.

-What invitation might that be, Ser Erryk?-. The Heir asks with politeness, raising her brows.

-The King has asked for all of his family to be gathered, this night, to have supper together in the dining hall of Maegor's Holdfast-, the knight informs with a neutral tone, only sharing the message-. Tonight, after the Small Council sees end of their today tasks-, he says.

As soon as "all of the family" and "gathered" was mentioned, they all felt a huge tiredness already. Daemon rolled his eyes blank, and Rhaena sighed longly.

Baela tsks, scrunching her nose. Jace stares at Daera, who looked back at him with a bored expression, the brown-haired soon rolling his eyes.

-Great-, Luke mumbles.

-And tell me, Ser Erryk, why couldn't The Queen herself come up to our chambers to hand us the invitation?-. Daera suddenly asks, looking at him for the first time. The knight blinks silently, staring at her-. Perhaps she is rather busy, solving her son's, Aegon, troubles-. She shrugged, burlesque.

Ser Erryk's unfazed expression slowly turned into a surprised one, lightly opening his lips. Does she know? The princess looks at him with harhsness and coldness, noding while she holds her brother.

-The Queen has posponed her works for the morrow-, Erryk answers, firmly-. Her Grace informed she were to spend her day in The Great Sept, with all of her children, my princess-. He detailed, looking at the princess, whose brows went loose in that moment.

The best of news, for them all, for that means that the castle will be free to calmly walk around, not having to avoid anyone or tolerate any taunt. Daera, however, wasn't to happy about the announce.

She has matters to speak of with Aemond, urgently. And, besides...she wants to be with him. Last night, as wonderful as it may have been, was not enought. Time is never enough when its regarding her desire of being with her husband. And now, he'll be all day out, with his family. When the fuck will they talk then?! Obviously not at supper! So, fuck, she'll have to wait until bedtime, again, to finally cuddle with him, and talk?

-Fucking great-, Daera huffs.

-Thank you, Ser Erryk. We...will be there, of course-. Rhaenyra sighed-. You may go, Ser-, she allows.

Erryk glanced at Daera, and she glanced back at him, until she sharped her gaze and looked away, turning around again. The knight feels the urge to gulp but, however, he just nods, and heads to the exit, leaving the chambers.

Jace sighs, closing the door.

In silence, they made bored and discomforted faces, already loathing the dinner they are suppose to have with The Green Queen.

Daemon blinks, looking at his empty cup.

-And what the hell is even Canada, huh?-. The Rogue Prince suddenly asked, confused.

-No fucking idea-. Daera instantly shook her head-. Don't even know why I said it-, she says.

-Sounds like a rough place-. Joffrey says, walking to the washroom. Rhaena agrees with a nod.

-Well, I'd rather go to Canada instead to that supper-. Rhaenyra mumbled with reluctance, making a pout with her lips.

-Hey, at least see the good side!-. Jacaerys smiles opening her arms.

-Jace, this is a fucking circle-. Daera snorted.

-No!-, he scoffed-. The castle is at peace!-, he says, smiling bigly.

-The young prince has a point-. Daemon agreed, raising his brows-. Who wants to go for a flight?-, he cockily asks.

-ME! ME! ME!-. Joffrey comes running from the washroom within a second.

■ ■ ■

And, as Ser Erryk informed, The Queen indeed is out of The Red Keep, for she had gone to the other only place she ever customs besides her home.

The Great Sept.

The insides of the temple are quiet and silent, now more than ever, that the Queen is at presence with her three older children. They were left completely alone, for the septons and septas withdrew to another space, to let them pray privately.

In a big hall of high roof, the candles lighted are countless. There are chandeliers and melting candles in every corner, provoking a smell that almost competes with the strong incenses that are equally lit all around.

There are only four people in this huge hall. One is redhead. The other three, white-haired.

Mother and children are kneeled in the floor, before a low stone table, where another bunch of candles are lighting their faces. Each of them have their hands crossed in front of said fire.

Helaena has her eyes closed, and a sweet tiny smile decorates her thirsty lips. She is already calmer, after Vaemond Velaryon's decapitation, for the princess easily finds easiness in this place, though she has never admitted it.

The princess prays, her way, for her loved ones, thinking about them, and then of why she wants the gods to keep taking care of them.

My son, Jaehaerys, because he is the loveliest babe, and he enjoys bugs as much as I do.

My daughter, Jaehaera, because she makes me happy, and she always smells great.

My brother, Aemond, because he always takes care of me, and he sneezes weirdly.

My cousin, Daera, because she is the funniest and most pretty person I know.

My brother, Daeron, because he is very gentle and kind, and makes good teas.

My mother, Alicent, because she is really weird but loves us all. I think she likes girls.

My father, Viserys, because once he told me I am beautiful, and then gave me a sweet.

Aegon, because I don't want mother to loose a child.

My grandfather, Otto, because he always hears how was my day and he sleeps with his eyes open.

My new handmaiden, Claudia, because she is a good listener.

My former handmaiden, Dyana, wherever she is, because she was truly kind.

Myself, Helaena, because I dressed the children on my own this morrow.

There is a beast beneath the boards.

Aegon is with his eyes open.

The prince is constantly looking around, sighing and yawning with boredom. He finds no place in his heart for praying, for he swears nobody is listening to him. He used to pray, once, when he was a kid, back when his mother loved him and used to call him my summer sweetheart.

Sometimes, and only sometimes, Aegon would close his eyes, and imagine that there is a god listening to whatever he has to say.

Hey, somewhere there? I do not care.

I am glad Rhaenyra's second bastard won the hearing today. Hadn't my father walked in, the idiot would have been dismissed, and so his brother, and so my half-sister, and then...ugh, hells, no, I am so glad that didn't happen. Sorry for the Velaryon man, though, it was unfair.

I wonder -uh, just wondering, of course- if my father would have stepped in so steadfastly were it to be my claim the one put into ques- oh fucks, I am such an idiot. Why do I care?! Besides, I know the answer! The old cunt wouldn't have lifted a finger. I don't care.

But I do wonder -again, just wondering- wether if mom would have said something if...if the Velaryon man or any other would have said that I am a bastard, or an idiot, an asshole, whatever. Would she have done...something?

UGH, YOU TWAT!

Aegon shivered as he opened his eyes again, pressing his lips. He felt stupid, that nobody was listening to him, again. He sighs, scratching his face.

The prince sniffs his nose, bored, leaning to a side, and looking with curiosity at the gap that is below the table.

I would sleep greatly in there.

Alicent's hands are tightly crossed over the stone table, as well as her eyes are closed. Her mind, sinked in thoughts and prayers. Seven of them.

May The Father judge justly the doers of today's sun. I pray for him to bring justice and fairness only to those deserving of such.

May The Mother smile down, every day, to all of my children. My troubled firstborn, may she protect him from no good. My warrior son, may she keep him away from battle and wrong tentations. My sweet daughter, may she kiss her cheeks every night, and place another heir in her womb. And my dearest boy, may she keep him warm in every of his nights away from me.

May The Warrior give me courage and strength during all these trying days. May he give strength to my kingdom, and to bring peace to the soulds of the slained. Ser Vaemond Velaryon. May he receive him in his arms, and show him to the path he is now to follow, though it was not his time for it.

May The Smith protect us all from any doom or disaster. I pray for him to keep the skies clear, the earth still, and the sea calmed. May he keep us away from warfare and cruelty.

May The Maiden watch over my dear granddaughter, Jaehaera, and to help her to bloom into the most purest of young girls. May she guide her pretty head towards clean thoughts, and her body to the right decisions.

May The Crone light the clouded conscience of my husband, and to allow him to see the threads that keep entangling stronger. May she give me wisdom, and guidance...Please...May she send me a white dove or a pain in my fingertips, a sign. I beg her, to answer my pleadings, to let me know that this is happening because of a purpose. May she coo me and then show me this will have a good end, and that everything will have settled its account. I need her to take my by the hand, and to guide me through this black heavy clouds.

And may The Stranger...I beg him...rip no one away from me.

Alicent gulps harshly, as quiet as possible.

Aemond's hands are crossed in front of him, with the candle light caressing his pink soft skin.

The prince's eye is open, barely, having sour crystal tears gathered in it, but not even one of them falls. Brokenly and weakly, he is staring at the candles before his teary gaze.

They burn. They move freely. They are melting together.

Prince Aemond only has one petition to the gods, and it is a question, not a pleading, so all they have to do is answer his tired and miserable inquiry.

When will it be my turn?

■ ■ ■

Syrax and Caraxes have gone out to fly in the wide skies of King's Landing, getting away from the castle for a while. With them, Tyraxes and Kalistrox also flap through the light clouds, joining them with easiness.

The Rogue Prince mounts his Blood Wyrm, feeling the breeze blowing on his short white hair, while The Realm's Delight rides her yellow dragon right by his side, caressing her belly as she looks upfront. Joffrey The Tamer, as his old sister jokingly blessed him, flies with his red dragon, Tyraxes, going with the happiest of smiles. The Golden Ray, though joining the mounted dragons in the sky, is riderless, for The Rogue Princess is attending to some matters.

She, along her siblings, have remained away from the clouds, and stayed in The Red Keep.

All of them together, at the moment, go down the same path. They are silent, and their faces are relaxed, nearly serious, as they walk through a narrow hallway of the castle, where the lighting is opaque, and the air a strained one.

Daera glances at Lucerys, finding a sort of nervous shine on his eyes. Softly, she reached a hand of him, and gripped it in hers. The boy closed his lips, looking back at her, and gulping before giving her a quick tiny smile, grabbing her hand.

As they expected to do, the found princess Rhaenys at the end of the hallway, after turning on a corner. She stands alone, right in front of an old wooden closed door, which she was staring at deeply, until she heard those multiple steps getting closer. The princess, all dressed in black, turns her head lightly, finding her grandchildren heading towards her with a mix of expressions. Pity and worriness, and shame, perhaps.

-Grandma-, the older girl whispered softly when they reached her side.

Rhaenys blinks silently, staring at all of them.

-We wanted to check if...if you are alright, before you step in to the room-. Jacaerys speaks lowly, briefly raising his brows.

-It is no easy task to watch the work of The Silent Sisters-. Rhaena pointed, playing with her fingers-...I have heard-, she added, shyly.

The Queen Who Never Was is about to enter the chamber of The Silent Sisters, who will be embalming Vaemond Velaryon's body, which was dragged out The Iron Throne Room by the guards after his decapitation. Servants of the castle are cleaning the path of blood left, as we speak.

Vaemond's body will be cleaned, and sent back to Driftmark in his own ship, The Heart of The Oceans, for his funeral, one that his family was not expecting at all. His sons, Daeron and Daemion, will be devastated. The news hadn't reached High Tide yet.

Her grandchildren look worried for her, wondering if she is comfortable with entering The Room of The Dead, as many call it, but the truth is that...she has lost count of how many times she has done this.

So, silently, she just gives them a little smirk, one of her many.

-I am sorry-, Lucerys suddenly whispered, ashamed, looking down to his feet. His eyes grew somewhat softer, while his siblings startled in their places.

-What for?-, Jace opens his eyes big.

-Luke, naught of this is your fault in neither way-. Daera pointed with a reassuring soft tone, shaking her head as she caressed his hand.

-Neither of us is to blame, and much less you-. Rhaena raised her brows in the same way, looking for his blue eyes, which fixated on her with light tears.

-Our uncle just...wasn't prudent, and that is on him-. A sigh left Baela's lips as she caressed his back.

-He misused his tongue by choice, and if Daemon hadn't taken care of the matter, The King's Justice would had, any ways-. Jacaerys pointed with confidence, leaning his head front to look at him.

-Exactly-, his wife whispered, curving her brows.

Lucerys blinks softly, pressing his pink lips as she watches at all of them, trying to believe their words.

Rhaenys stares at all of them with her eyes lightly narrowed, reading all of their faces and the feelings within them. She clearly knows one thing: this children are complicated, all of them, wether if its by their choice of not. They belong to a family, as well as she, with rotten cores, and weird morals, which sometimes truly shows in them, though most of the times they are better persons than anyone else in such family.

As complicated as it is, she definitely knows something about this kids...she loves them.

The Lady of Driftmark, without having said one single word, smirked at them with a tired dearness, and then opened the doors of the room. The children immediately turned their heads around, and Rhaena even closed her eyes, gulping.

A putrid smell reached their noses, mixed with the whiff of countless candles. Jacaerys blinks strongly, and Baela covered her nose, being the first one in walking away, quickly being followed by Lucerys.

Daera presses her lips, staring at the floor for five seconds, and then turning around her head. She dared to look at the insides, finding, then, the naked sliced body of her uncle, Vaemond, resting on a table of stone.

The princess gulps strongly, biting her cheeks as she smells his corpse. Her head shakes briefly, as her mind remembers the last words he ever said to her.

-You, then, be as corrupt as you wish to be! On the morrow, I will bring justice to the House you so blatantly betrayed! Over my dead rotting corpse, I will allow House Velaryon to be ruled by a...!-

He said the word, this morrow. And now his dead corpse is rotting. And, indeed, House Velaryon will be ruled by a bastard.

Daera sniffs her nose, looking at the body.

-I warned you-, she whispered, for the second time in the day.

■ ■ ■

Back in The Great Sept, a handful of hours have passed already, so Alicent and her children are finally taking a quick break from their prayers, which are exhausting, according to her first son.

Aegon is quietly having some food, chewing a good stew that one of the Septas cooked herself. It is delicious, and he is eating it with no delicate manner, bringing the spoon up and down within seconds. The prince sneaked into the temple a discreet canteen of wine with him, and he sips it as calmly as if it was water.

Helaena is lying on the floor, moving her legs in the air while, most interested, she sees a line of ants carrying crumbs of food. They're so hardworking, she thinks as she laughs, her jaw resting on the ground.

Aemond is far from his siblings, on a more private corner of the room. The prince is sitting in the frame of a gigantic open window, receiving the breeze of the town, and its horrible smell of urine and shit. His long legs are crossed, his back a little slouched, and his hands resting on his thighs, while his only eye is looking up, at the sky.

He is watching at Syrax, Caraxes and Kalistrox, along another little red dragon that he simply forgot the name of. Aemond wonders if his wife, Daera, is mounting her dragon at the moment, or if his saddle is empty. He does not know. For a brief moment, before, he was wishing for her to be here, with him, but his dear love doesn't pray, and neither gets along with his family besides Helaena.

The One-Eyed Prince fixes his gaze on Syrax and Caraxes, picturing their riders's faces in his mind even though he's not seeing them.

After checking on Helaena, Alicent approaches to the window Aemond is seated in, endlessly looking at the sky. She arrives with silent steps, and he did not even blinked. She blinks, briefly looking at the dragons in the clouds, and then back at him.

-Septa Mira cooked stew for us, Aemond-. The redhead says within a whisper, raising a hand to caress his long hair's ends for a moment-. It is getting cold-, she adds. Blinkless, he stares at the sky-. Are you not hungry?-, she asks, wanting him to say something.

-I hate my father-. The prince says, calmly. His mother froze in that moment, completely, opening her eyes big-. I hate his first daughter, and the children of hers-, he adds, looking at Syrax.

-Aemond-, Alicent named with a nervous voice, quickly looking around-. You do not say such things out loud, someone may hear you-, she speaks fastly.

-You say this is the place for us to speak freely to the gods about our thoughts-. The one-eyed points with an obvious tone, turning his head to look at her. His mother curves her brows, staring front-...May the gods hear me-, he pleads.

Alicent only shakes her head briefly, knowing there was no worth in trying to stop him. Her son looks back at the sky belonging to the pass midday, watching again at those dragons.

-They always get away with it, do they not?-. The prince asks, husky, almost singing his question-. Each rogueness, murder and treason from them is welcomed with open arms by The King-, he whispers-...They are your husband's spoiled ones, and they know it-. Aemond moved his lips softly as he speaks, feeling a lump on his throat.

His mother turns her pity expression into one of shame and helpless, not knowing what to say to fight those words, for they are true.

-We ourselves have gone through so much-, Aemond whispers, narrowing his eye, thinking about all the wrongs they have had to endure during all these years, back beyond the days of his own birth-...and for what?-. He mumbles, shrugging.

-Son-, Alicent murmurs, looking down at him.

Aemond remembers that night, the one that fully cleared, if it was not clear before, that The King would always favour his first child's doings, and the lot of her family, over his own other children, and wife. The night where a slander -a fitting one- was heavier than the hanging eye on his bloody face.

-Where is duty?-. Aemond thinly asks-. Where is sacrifice?-, he narrows his eye.

When hearing herself being quoted by her own son, Alicent's heart sinked.

-Its trampled under their pretty feet again-. The prince hisses, remembering it all to well. His mother opens her lips, looking with pity at him-. I lost an eye for telling the truth, and Vaemond Velaryon his head for wanting to save his bloodline-. He studies the facts, sensing the tears gathering up in his sour gaze.

Aemond's throat trembled a little, and his head shook from side to side, with despair, feeling like a caged beast.

-I don't understand it-. And a unwanted sob left his lips, which curved with sadness and impotence.

Alicent tsked her tongue and, not holding herself anymore, she took seat in front of him in the window's frame, with her face dyed of heaviness, but firmness.

-Injustices are not to understand-, The Queen whispered, shaking her head, and lifting her hands-, but to avoid-, she says.

Her son takes both her hands, gripping them between his long fingers. He sniffs his nose, tired, and she watches him with her weary eyes, thoughtful.

-Do you not see it now?-. Alicent asks, in a low voice. He curves his brows, not understanding-. Do you not notice, my brave boy...what life I saved you from, regard what you once had with that rogue Daera?-. She pointed, firmly gripping his hands.

Aemond's confused gazed faded away. He opens his eye big, pressing his lips, and gulping in silence. He was not expecting this.

-Where does all your pains and wounds come from, if not from her, and her family?-. Alicent wonders, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head-. What her father did- the monstruosity her father did this morning, she would have done it exactly the same if given the chance-. She raises her brows-. I am sure of it-, she tilts her head.

Only to not look too quiet, he nods, pressing his thin lips. The prince gulps, a little breathless, wanting to cry so hard at the moment. It pains him, deeply, that even a year later his mom is still so denied to the love he "once had" for princess Daera.

-I know you wanted to know little of me, during those days...-. Alicent looks down for a moment, ashamed.

-That is no true, mother-. He immediately says, gripping her hands. She gulps, looking up again.

-What I did, I did it for your best, Aemond-. Alicent heartily promises, curving her brows-. Over my cold body I would have allowed my son to see himself tangled between such kind of people, the kind that mocks the system, whose injustices and recklessness are taken with ease by the blinded ones-. She speaks with a passionate determination, holding their hands together as the tears on Aemond's eye are burning everytime sourer-...You don't belong there-, she states.

Aemond's breathing began to grow faster. His eye starts to open hugely, and his mind commenced to suddenly think of something.

Oh no...

-It may sound hard, and it is, I've know it-. Alicent confesses, closing her eyes tiredly-. But our duty is to keep The Realm steady on its feet, and to not let ourselves be dragged nor drowned by incitements or dares-. She raises her brows. Aemond breathes fastly-. We must not make the same mistakes as them-. The Queen declared.

At that moment, the world collapsed on Prince Aemond's shoulders, and as his heart stopped beating for a second, his face lost all color and expression from before, because a name came to his mind when the word "mistake" was said.

Alyssa Targaryen.

-Aemond?-, Alicent calls, worried by his sudden paleness.

Aemond stood up from a moment to another, and his shaky legs walked him far from his mother with stumbling steps. She turns around her head, highly confused.

Alyssa.

The prince gasps, feeling that everything around him was beginning to spin. He walks through The Sept, holding on to the walls, feeling one of the worst panics of his life, having the worst realization of all.

His daughter won't be Alyssa Targaryen.

At the second he reaches a door, he opens it and closed it within a second, walking into an empty chamber of praying. He breathes fast, whimpering, taking off his patch and throwing it against a wall, forgetting about it.

-No, no!-. His thin voice starts to cry.

He grabs his head, opening his eye big as he only sees darkness.

His daughter will be Alyssa Velaryon.

-No-, Aemond whines.

Nah, scratch that. His daughter will be Alyssa Waters.

Afflicted, the prince falls on his own knees, unable to hold his weight any longer. His endless tears drop from his chin to the floor, wetting it.

The Seven watch him with pity.

How could he have been so stupid? How is he thinking about this NOW? HOW DID HE LET THIS HAPPEN?!

The babe he placed on Daera's belly will be no child of theirs.

Aemond breathes thinly, and while his blue sapphire soaked with his own sweat, his only eye lighted red with rage, and fear.

On Daera's belly, he placed his bastard.

And the child of Jacaerys Strong.

■ ■ ■

By herself, princess Daera stands in the balcony of her chambers, in The Red Keep. Both of her hands are placed in her naked belly, for her blouse is short, caressing it softly.

She stares at The Great Sept, watching it from the distance, and constantly sighing as she thinks of her beloved.

Daera wishes to see Aemond, and to kill Aegon, but mostly to see Aemond, and to talk with Helaena as well, for she hasn't even greeted neither of them today.

A while ago, she had one of the most incredible meetings of her life. She introduced Viserys and Aegon to Jaehaera and Jahaerys! It was lovely, and all of her siblings joined the moment as well. The babes spent more than an hour playing, babbling and laughing together, all the four of them constantly clinging to the one common person they knew, Daera.

Daemon and Rhaenyra knew nothing of it, for after their flight they kept walking around The Keep, spending time alone. Helaena will be thrilled when she hears of this, Daera is sure. After the babies got notably tired, she put her brothers to rest, and the gentle Claudia took the princess's godschildren twins to take a bath.

And, speaking of babes, Daera has been caressing her own stopless, since she was left alone in the tranquility of her chambers. The princess constantly smiles, feeling sometimes silly because of how excited she is, dispite she was impregnated just yesterday. She doesn't care about time, though, for she knows that the creature inside her will bloom, yes or yes, and the only thought makes her thrive of emotion.

Daera can't but remember, with the warmest feeling on her chest, one of the last conversation she ever had with her mother, before she died. In those days, Laena was with child, of course, the one who she burned with.

For some or other reason, she asked her about maternity, wondering why she was doing for the fourth time if it brings her so much pain and discomfort.

"The pain is only ephemeral, my sweet Daera", her tender voice would answer her.

"Will I be a mother...one day?", she asked that night, hugging her knees, when she was eleven years old.

"Only if you wish to. But be assured, it is the most beautiful experience of life, Daera, to bring another one to the world, made of your own flesh, and breathing with the strength of your own heart", Laena scrunches her nose, smiling.

"If I ever have children, I hope to be a good mother to them, as you are to me...and my sisters", Daera confessed.

And her mother, full of love, smiled at her.

"...When your time comes...you will be the best mother"

Daera sucked the insides of her cheeks, smiling, and looking down at her flat belly, caressing it with overflowed love.

-You'll grow-, she tenderly whispered to it.

-Daera?-. Some knocks in the door, and a voice from behind it, made the princess to turn her head around, calmly-. Are you in there?-. Jacaerys asked, politely.

-Come!-. She allowed, getting her hands off her belly, and walking to the insides of her chambers again.

Jace comes into the room, greeting her with a kind smile. She copies it, as he closes the door.

-Oh, you come alone?-. Daera raises her brows, smiling.

-Uh, yeah! Yeah-. Jace nods, raising his brows again-. I was walking through the gardens with Rhaena and Luke, but I left them alone, and they didn't even notice-. He narrates funnily, walking.

The princess laughs funnily.

-They are so silly-, she mumbles, burlesque.

-Do not deprive yourself from the comforts of my mattress then-. She huffed, and he laughs funnily, laying in there.