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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 10 》

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, 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 ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

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.

■ ■ ■

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.

■ ■ ■

#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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