A/N: Hi, guys. How are you all doing?
Been doing some soul-searching as of late due to the pandemic, as well as starting a new job. But I will continue to update this story. And hopefully, at least for the ones in America, things will calm down and we can regain some normality through all of this craziness.
Daeron sat across Ser Myles Hightower, commander of the City Watch of Oldtown and his distant relative, and Ryam, the seneschal of the Citadel. The city was on edge, especially with the war raging across the realm and King's Landing in Rhaenyra's control, even though much of the population was removed from the fighting.
"I must congratulate you on your victory at the Honeywine, Your Grace," Ser Myles began. "My lord cousin was very wise to deem you worthy of knighthood and name you 'the Daring.'"
"Thank you," Daeron answered.
Well, my business with my dear cousin shan't be long, Daeron thought.
"So, what brings you here, Daeron the Daring?" Ser Myles tried to flatter him, but he was not in the mood to accept such praise.
"First, I shall discuss the condition of the portion of the treasury within Oldtown's vaults," Daeron said. "Then, I shall like an update on the condition of my nephew, Prince Maelor."
"With respect, Your Grace," Ryam asked. "Wouldn't that matter be under the purview of Ser Tyland, the Master of Coin?"
"Ser Tyland has more pressing matters to attend to at Highgarden. As I am here at the moment, updating my brother the Prince Regent on the treasury is merely a convenience," Daeron answered, but without revealing anything that could indicate that relations between those in command were strained at best.
"Of course," Ryam nodded.
"And with respect, Ser Myles," Daeron turned to his distant relative. "Where's Ser Gordan, the castellan for the Hightower? I would expect him to be here since he would have more... awareness with how the crown's gold is maintained in the midst of this war?"
"Ser Gordan is currently occupied at the moment, Your Grace," Ser Myles told him. "As I am a member of House Hightower, which makes us family, whatever concerns you have with our affairs will have to discussed with me."
Daeron didn't like the situation. Although Ser Myles was family, his current posting was with Oldtown's City Watch and was only a cousin to Lord Ormund. Therefore, he had no real business in knowing what was in the vaults and especially the condition of the treasury stored there.
"If Ser Gordan is currently occupied at the moment, I can wait," Daeron decided, surprising both Ser Myles and Ryam.
"As I said, Your Grace, he's currently occupied," Ser Myles repeated.
"With what exactly?" Daeron asked.
"He is... at the Shield Islands, preparing our defenses should the Red Kraken strike at our lands."
Daeron blinked, with one eye narrower than the other. What in the hells? "How is the Red Kraken representing a threat against Oldtown?"
"We've received reports of the Greyjoys' activities near Lannisport. We thought it prudent to prepare accordingly," Ser Myles tried to explain.
"Did you get orders from Lady Tyrell to do so?" Daeron asked, but already somehow knew the answer.
"We had to prepare our own measures, given that our Lord Parament still has a regent," Ser Myles explained.
"So you acted without orders from your liege lords but decided that the Greyjoys, who are a long ways from here, are a threat to take care in your own?" Daeron tried to understand, but couldn't.
"With respect to Lyonel Tyrell, he's but a babe, still taking comfort from his mother's teats," Ser Myles spoke candidly. "Given the times we're living in, we have to protect our own lands and keeps on our initiative."
Daeron narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"What he means by that, Your Grace," Ryam joined in. "Is that given the split in central authority between the traitors and the Prince Regent, is that as the commander of the City Watch and the Hightower in charge of Oldtown, he has the responsibility to keep the city and its surrounding territories safe from all threats."
Daeron became more confused. "Do you have approval from Lord Ormund to act on his behalf? Both of you?"
"We're family, Your Grace, just as you are," Ser Myles.
"Let's get one thing, absolutely clear," Daeron was tired of how Ser Myles assumes that they had a close relationship. "We might have similar blood running in our veins, but my family is House Targaryen. I am the blood of the dragon and I am a prince of the realm, and you will speak to me as such. Do you understand?"
Ser Myles sighed before nodding. "Yes, Your Grace. Thank you for clarifying what our relationship really is."
"And let me remind you of the consequences of acting without leave from your lord. Lord Ormund might be family, but he is ranked above you while you're just a knight. And Lord Ormund is sworn to House Tyrell. Unless you give me proof that you are authorized to send, say Ser Gordan, to the Shield Islands, which is a long way from Oldtown and thus outside your jurisdiction, I will report this to both my brother the Prince Regent and Lady Tyrell. I'm sure that they will something to say about your conduct," Daeron continued.
"Forgive us, Your Grace, if we were merely to take measures for our own protection," Ryam offered, which only annoyed Daeron.
"And let me ask you this, Maester. Since when did the Citadel become involved in the matters of a lordly house without clear instructions from the head of that house?" Daeron turned to the Citadel's seneschal.
"The security of the Citadel relies on the security of Oldtown," Ryam replied. "It is my duty as the seneschal to ensure that the Citadel continues to have a working relationship with the City Watch and that the city itself is protected."
"I'll dispel you of such notions, Maester," Daeron shook his head. "Unless explicitly called upon, the maintenance of the security of Oldtown rests solely on the Lord of House Hightower, not those living inside it or those distantly related," he turned to Ser Myles, who became very irritated. That's going to be a problem. "And the security of the city is also the responsibility of House Tyrell and thus your rightful king. Don't concern yourselves with matters that you have no business knowing, and that goes for the both of you. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Your Grace," both answered reluctantly.
"Now, if Ser Gordan is occupied in the Shield Islands, tell him to come back and report to me. Unlike you two, I have clear instructions from my brother the Prince Regent to report the situation of the treasury housed in the Hightower's vaults. Until he arrives, I shall wait here," Daeron made clear his position.
"Him coming back to the city might take a week, Your Grace," Ser Myles tried to explain, which Daeron waved off.
"Then, that's something that you'll have to elaborate for the Prince Regent, the Queen Mother, Lady Tyrell, and the Hand of the King and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Criston Cole," Daeron said dismissively. "After all, they won't blame me since I don't know what's been going on in Lord Ormund's absence."
"I shall send a raven recalling him, Your Grace," Ser Myles acquiesced, with the same reluctance evident.
"You do that. And now onto the other matter. How is my dear nephew settled in the city?"
"Very good, Your Grace," Ryam was glad that the discussion switched direction. "He has been housed in the Hightower and I have assumed the responsibility of overseeing his education, alongside his appointed nurses. I must say that it is a welcome change of pace."
"Why is that?"
"Your Grace, being a seneschal is thankless work. I am not directly involved in cultivating knowledge, which was the main reason why I got my maester's chain in the first place," Ryam told him.
Daeron sensed another inconsistency. "If my nephew has been under your care and Ser Gordan is not at the Hightower at the moment, who is protecting the fortress and the future king of the Seven Kingdoms?"
"I am, Your Grace," Ser Myles sheepishly answered.
Daeron groaned, as this was the latest of his distant cousin's shortcomings all in the span of a few moments. "All right. From now on, I shall move into the Hightower in Lord Ormund's absence and personally see to my nephew's welfare. The castle's household knows me and since I am a prince of the realm, it won't be hard for me to look over my nephew and the fortress until Lord Ormund comes."
"But, Your Grace, what about your duties at the front?" Ser Myles asked.
"Worry about Oldtown and its safety within its immediate boundaries," Daeron reminded him strongly.
"I wouldn't say that even the Hightower is safe for Maelor, Your Grace," Ryam warned him.
"Why?" That got Daeron's attention.
"Well, there's been talk of unrest within the undercity, talk of a man urging harm onto you and the dragons for being abominations against the gods," Ser Myles explained.
"And where did you get this information?" Daeron had to know.
"I have a few people in that section of the city, Your Grace," Ser Myles answered.
"Keep me updated and send me daily reports to the Hightower," Daeron ordered him, which he complied with a bow. "As for me, I shall walk around the city a bit before I travel to the fortress."
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Your Grace?" Ryam asked with a hint of worry, but just a little. "I've heard talk of this man also and it's possible that his influence might spread outside of the undercity."
"Worry about the Citadel itself, Maester," Daeron told him again. "And in the future, unless told otherwise by me or those belonging to a station like mine or Lady Tyrell's, do not concern yourself with other matters you have no business knowing. Understood?" The master dipped his head, while Daeron took his leave.
All of this seemed very off for Daeron as the main barracks for the City Watch of Oldtown. The wrong Hightower was in charge of the Hightower, the treasury in its vaults, and the security of the city at the same time while Maester Ryam was involved with his nephew Maelor without being instructed to. Also, the castellan of Hightower was not where he was supposed to be and with the rumors of a man acting against them from the undercity, it all led to Daeron not seeing Oldtown as it once was. The war might be a good explanation, but there's a stench going on and I have to get to the bottom of it. Looks like my exile in all but name will be quite busy for me.
Daeron turned to look at The Citadel, which was located upriver on both sides of the Honeywine. Boys and men had gathered there from all over Westeros for many centuries in the hopes of learning, studying, and forging their own maester's chain. People in Westeros saw the Citadel as the greatest seat of knowledge in the known world, while a few others who actually had experience with them knew things about the maesters that most were unaware of. "Good thing that I'm not part of those men," Daeron said to himself. "I might not savor combat as much as Aemond, but I would rather do that than be stuck in a room for hours while waiting for boredom to wither me."
Oldtown was a max of intersecting alleys and narrow and crooked streets, with markets dotting each of them. Among these markets included the Thieves Market and Ragpicker's Wynd, with the former being named for how many thieves were punished from stealing. The whole city was built with stone, with all of its streets cobbled, which could become wet and slippery if the day was damp. This also applied to the bridges, with the exception of some made of wood that could be found if one looked carefully. Characteristic of a city of this size, Oldtown was enclosed by massive and thick stone walls.
Upon arriving at Oldtown, Daeron expected the city to be smelling as flowery as a perfumed dowager. His mother told him that during the summer, the city steamed and sweltered under the light of the sun, but the city was just as alive at night as it was during the day. He also expected there to be shrubbery dotted with melons, moonbloom, nightshade, peaches, and pomegranates.
However, when Daeron came to squire with Lord Ormund, he found himself to be massively disappointed with the seat of his mother's family. While he was still impressed with the stone structures of Oldtown, the city smelled like shit and the only shrubbery he could find was within the gardens of those who could afford them. Even though people went about their business during night as much as during the day, the streets were littered with piles of feces, both from animals and humans, and all of them flowed down into whatever holes it could find. The only difference between King's Landing and this place is that the latter has been around longer.
Daeron passed by the various small isles located in Oldtown, all of which were connected by bridges and could be reached by small boat. He remembered going to The Quill and Tankard an inn that stood on its own island in the Honeywine, and moving along the river road that ran beside the river through the heart of the city. West of the river, the guildhalls lined the river's bank, which Daeron was told to steer clear of as people of his station were not supposed to mingle with the merchants. The same applied to the rat pits and black brothels that were located in the undercity, of which he only heard rumors of. Can't be that much different to Flea Bottom in King's Landing.
Walking downriver, Daeron soon came across the Starry Sept, which was raised on the command of Lord Triston Hightower, his ancestor. It served as the seat of the High Septons for a thousand years before his ancestor Aegon the Conqueror swept through Westeros, which made the city the center of the Faith for all of who practiced it. And here the Faith continued to be concentrated, as Maegor the Cruel burnt the Sept of Remembrance with Balerion during the Faith Militant uprising and the Faith's had remained largely absent from King's Landing despite the actions of Jaehaerys the Conciliator. The massive building was built with black marble walls and arched windows, with mansions of the pious, particularly one for the High Septon, were located near it.
While Daeron grew to appreciate the gardens of the Starry Sept, which could be filled with hundreds coming there to worship, he was immediately confused as to why the High Septon, a man supposed to be pious and committed to the faithful, lived in a place which had possessions that would have allowed smallfolk to live comfortably for several lifetimes. "The Faith are the gods' instrument amongst us all mortals and the High Septon is their messenger. It's only right that he be compensated and taken care of as the gods' speaker," Lord Ormund merely replied.
He lives like a king and only lacks a crown, Daeron silently scoffed. Although not as pious to the Faith as his mother was, he did find some comfort in a few of their beliefs, such as how the Warrior would grant the bravest victory even in dire straits. But his trip to Oldtown was very eye-opening in terms of how he saw the religion practiced by his mother and what exactly she saw in it. The Doctrine of Exceptionalism might protect Maelor, but what's to stop the septons from preaching against his existence in private nonetheless?
Besides the Starry Sept, at least seven more septs honoring the Seven, built on the command of Lord Damon Hightower, another among his ancestors, could be found nearby. These included the Sailor's Sept down by the harbor, the Lord's Sept, and the Seven Shrines in their gardens across the Honeywine. Also nearby was a motherhouse, a place where future septas were trained and where Maegelle Targaryen also became one while Saera Targaryen ran away. If I had seen what Saera had seen earlier, I wouldn't blame her. This is one of the most gilded places I've ever lived in.
Finally, Daeron made his way down by the wharves, where temples that provide services for foreigners, such as Summer Islanders and red priests of the Lord of Light, could be found. He didn't think much about those that follow other deities such as R'hllor, but that didn't mean that he had an absolute hate for those that didn't follow the Seven as some deities did. It was certainly what he felt, albeit very minimized, when he began to squire in Oldtown. Even though I follow the Seven, I felt as if they saw me as the enemy or someone who didn't belong.
Of course, Daeron would be remiss if he didn't see the mighty Hightower, a massive stepped lighthouse located on Battle Isle, where the Honeywine widened into the Whispering Sound and where it lay in the center of the city. The Hightower had a great beacon on top, which showed ships their way to port. People liked to say that the Hightower was the tallest tower in the world, higher than even the seven-hundred-foot Wall in the North and manned by the Night's Watch. But people only say that when they haven't seen others.
Daeron had heard about other structures that were supposedly higher than the Hightower. Although he hadn't personally seen it, such suppositions helped make the belief that the Hightower was the tallest structure lose its credence. Maybe will have to travel outside of the Seven Kingdoms once this is all over.
He sat by the wharf, taking the time to reflect on the discussion with Ser Myles and Maester Ryam. There were too many gaps in Oldtown to have just resulted as a consequence from the war and the wrong people were involved in areas that they were not supposed to be in. I have to send a raven to Aemond, mother, and Lord Cole. They might know what to do, even though I might not like what they have to say.
He also looked forward to spending some with his nephew Maelor, who must be confused as to what his happening around him. He didn't know that his mother was a captive, his father was wounded, and his older uncle exhibiting his ruthless side. For now, he shall be the babe that he should be, Daeron decided. Others might not care for him as much as they should, but I'll be damned if I fail him now.
Daeron had to be the family Maelor needed. What would Helaena say to me if I didn't?
Baela held baby Visenya in her arms, cooing at her little sister while pinching at her red cheeks. With her violet eyes and silver hair evident, with her having the cheeks of her father, it was clear on whose child it was. But why should I have doubts?
Her twin Rhaena on the other hand was watching over little Aegon and little Jaehaera as they were playing with wooden figurines together. Both were quite good with kids, having learned from when Rhaenyra gave birth to Aegon and Viserys, but Baela wanted to get to know her baby sister after only arriving to King's Landing recently. I don't mind my brothers, but I am very happy to have another sister.
When Baela turned to Aegon, she saw him being hesitant with a wooden dragon and even flinching at the mere sight of it. She sighed, knowing that whatever happened near Driftmark will always be with him. But he's a dragon. He shouldn't be afraid of the mounts we have.
Jaehaera grabbed the wooden dragon away from his reach, eagerly flying it around her. "Do you like dragons, Jaehaera?" Rhaena asked her with a warm smile.
Jaehaera, only ten years old and her and Baela's cousin, was small and slow to grow. But her petite frame added to her adorableness, further enhanced when she nodded eagerly.
"Would you like to ride one someday?" Rhaena pinched her cheek.
"Yeah," Jaehaera answered eagerly.
"Tell me what kind of dragon that you wish to have," Rhaena wanted to continue.
"I want a dragon that is big, fast, and loves me," Jaehaera tenderly rubbed her cheek on the wooden dragon.
"I'm sure that whatever dragons you bond with will love you very much," Rhaena kept grinning. "It's in our blood after all."
"Do you have a dragon?"
Rhaena exhaled sadly. "I wish. But my sister Baela," she pointed to her twin. "She has one."
"Do you?" Jaehaera's eyes sparkled.
Baela nodded. "Her name is Moondancer," she kept holding Visenya. "She's a green dragon and I've only begun to mount her."
"What is she like?" Jaehaera wanted her cousin to indulge her curiosity.
"She…. understands me, like all dragons do with their riders," Baela tried to explain. "It's a bond that cannot be described in words. You have to know yourself to really get it."
"I can't wait when it's my time," Jaehaera was thinking about being a dragonrider. Hopefully like Visenya and Rhaenys of old, or maybe even Alyssa and Alysanne.
"What about you, Aegon? You like dragons?" Rhaena wanted to include her brother. He just remained silent, looking into the distance that only he could see through the wall. "Aegon, don't you want to hold this dragon?" Rhaena offered him another wooden dragon. That made her brother tremble and breath more rapidly than before. Before he began to hyperventilate, with the dragon triggering some strong memories, he turn around and face away from her. "Aegon, you can't just be like this forever. You have to talk to us. We're family." Their brother still remained quiet, frustrating Rhaena's attempts. Baela cleared her throat, getting her attention so that she could shake her head.
"Let him be," Baela mouthed.
"He has to talk to us," Rhaena mouthed back.
"We can't force it. He's our brother and we must give him his space if he wants it. Let muña take care of it when the time is right, for we can only do so much."
Rhaena wanted to do more, but seeing how right her twin's words were, she let her brother be and continued to play with Jaehaera.
Please, whoever is up there, please let him speak eventually. If not us, then let him speak with muña.
"Where's my muña?" Jaehaera suddenly asked, throwing both Rhaena and Baela off-guard. "I heard people say that she's a bad woman and is evil."
Rhaena shook her head, trying not to have her cousin be affected by such strong feelings. "No, no. She's not a bad woman, Jaehaera. And she's still here. Do you want to see her?" Jaehaera pursed her lips as she bobbed her head. "Well, Jaehaera, I'll talk to you aunt Rhaenyra and maybe, we can arrange something."
"Is my kepa still here?" Jaehaera threw them off guard again.
"No, he's not," Rhaena answered.
"Good," Jaehaera answered, startling both of them.
"Why?" Rhaena didn't expect that.
"I hear them fight sometimes, when they think I'm not around to hear them," Jaehaera kept looking at the wooden figurines.
"What do they fight about?" Rhaena was trying to be careful, as she was touching a very sensitive spot.
"Last time that I heard them fight, muña said to kepa, 'You keep humiliating me and you expect me to stay in bed with you?'"
Rhaena shared a glanced with Baela, both of whom were troubled at their little cousin already experiencing what unhappiness in marriage looked like.
"I don't know why she said that, but I know that they hate each other," Jaehaera twiddled with her fingers while still holding the figurine.
"I'm sure that they don't hate each other. Parents fight often," Rhaena tried to comfort her, but her cousin shook her head.
"I did see my kepa enter his bedroom with another woman, and they were pretty loud," Jaehaera closed her eyes.
Baela's eyes softened, as did Rhaena's. Oh, no. She already saw the older Aegon be unfaithful.
Rhaena didn't know what to say, but she had to stop her cousin from being so gloomy. "Hey, how about we go to the kitchens? Maybe there will be some sweets waiting for us."
Jaehaera beamed. Aegon also put his head up. Best way into a child's heart is through their belly.
"Then let's go," Rhaena urged them both up and they followed her, but she glanced back at Baela.
"I'll join you soon. Let me see if I can get Lady Nettles to join us," Baela handed baby Visenya to her twin.
"Okay," Rhaena nodded while pinching Visenya's cheeks, causing their sister to gurgle happily. "I'll see you there."
Baela went to Nettles' apartment on the far side of Maegor's Holdfast, which was just below Lord Cregan Stark's. Her respect and admiration for the Lord of Winterfell grew considerably after he helped her father defend her muña's honor when Ulf and Hugh had dared to make bawdy suggestions in court. She might not be the woman who gave birth to me, but she treated me like I and Rhaena were her own. So, she is our muña. But I don't know what Vermithor and Silverwing saw in those two bastards.
Knocking on Nettles' door, she stepped into her chambers. She found the rider of Sheepstealer sitting in a chair, her hand on her growing belly. Baela looked at her sympathetically, as she was seduced by Jacaerys even though he was already married to Sara Snow. Fortunately for her, Rhaenyra promised to take care of her and the child since it did carry her blood. Jacky might not have been very pleasant to be around, but I'll make sure that his child won't make the same mistakes, Baela promised herself.
Nettles saw Baela enter her chambers and was about to stand up and curtsey, but Baela bid her to sit down. "No, no. Please sit. You need it."
"What brings you here, Your Grace?" Nettles asked her.
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to have sweets with us. My sister Rhaena, my brother Aegon, and my cousin Jaehaera are in the kitchen right now," Baela sat beside her.
"Is it proper for me, a common girl, to eat with royalty?" Nettles kept rubbing her belly.
"I'm sure that my nephew or niece might like it," Baela put her hand on her belly, causing Nettles to shift. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing, Your Grace," Nettles shook her head. "I… don't know if I can carry this child in me."
"Why do you say so?" Baela was surprised.
"I knew that Prince Jacaerys was married, but I let him have his way with me. I've been such a fool and now my child will never meet his father," Nettles closed her eyes in despair, causing Baela to hold her hand.
"It's okay, Nettles," Baela shushed her. "And to be honest, I don't really care. You have a babe with the blood of the dragon in you and just like the Queen will take care of him or her, I will do the same also. You have my word."
"Why?" Nettles was surprised at how much kindness she was showing.
"Because… I know how life is precious and it's something that I wish to share with someone I love," Baela admitted.
"You have someone in your life, Your Grace?"
Baela smiled sadly. "I just wish he'll stay alive and we can see each other again." She didn't want to get into the details, as it was very hurtful. "Now, how about some sweets? I'm sure the babe will like it, as I said."
Nettles nodded. "I'd like that very much, Your Grace."
As Baela led Nettles down to the kitchens to get sweets, she remembered the last time she had her love in her arms, the last time before all of this happened.
She saw the stag grazing form a bush, being very careful as to not alert her prey. Hunting was a pastime that took hours and required the keenest mind and senses to pull off effectively. It was an activity that was highly looked down upon whenever women were participants. If Alysanne Targaryen could hunt, then nothing from the seven hells could stop me from doing this, she thought.
It was after she had turned three and ten. King Viserys had arranged for a family retreat in the kingswood after seeing that relations among especially his sons and grandsons were still strained. Criston Cole and her grandfather the Sea Snake separately suggested that a hunting trip in the kingswood, where only members of House Targaryen and others that carried the blood of the dragon could attend and spend the next week without having to worry about the politics of the Seven Kingdoms. Being a man who loved his family, her uncle the King eagerly chose to do that and thus sent invitations to Dragonstone and Driftmark.
Although supposed to be a private event, it was the first time in over a decade where all of House Targaryen and those with the blood of the dragon had assembled, with the last time being the fifth anniversary of Viserys' and Alicent's wedding, the time when she wore green and Rhaenyra wore black. Baela, like everyone else, didn't know that was when everything would begin to change for the family.
To no one's surprise, the first day of the retreat had more than a few rough patches, particularly between Aemond and her Velaryon half-brothers. Old insults remained between them and Viserys had to personally step in to prevent Jacaerys and Aemond from coming to blows over the most trivial matters, which included who was better at falconry. I could overcome the both of them on any day, Baela mused, but didn't dare make her thoughts known. Aemond was very quick to anger and she knew that she wasn't going to win in a match of strength with the One-Eye.
As for Criston Cole, Baela saw him stealing glances at Rhaenyra as if in longing. She didn't know what exactly happened between them, but she was sure that whatever feelings that might have developed when he was her sworn sword still lingered. Not that it mattered anyway, since she saw how happy her muña and kepa were.
Alicent's eldest Aegon, her cousin, was an embarrassment, as he looked nothing like a dragon would and struggled to mount his horse despite the presence of Sunfyre. And that's the son that everyone expects to overtake my muña? Baela wanted to scoff, if it didn't offend her uncle and wouldn't cause Alicent to lash out, thus making things more complicated.
But her eyes fell on Daeron, the youngest brother and her cousin by Viserys, as he had just arrived from Oldtown with his cousin Lord Ormund Hightower accompanying him. The boy she had kissed in the Dragonpit, the only boy born of the Hightower woman that she grew to like, and the boy who had grown into a strapping man and on his way to becoming a great knight. His sharp jawline, his deep eyes, muscled arms and calves, chiseled core evident through his tunic… The years in Oldtown have been very kind to him, Baela observed admiringly. I hope he remembers me.
Her worries were soon to laid to rest when Daeron acted nervous around her, averting eye contact while also smiling. Wanting to see that she wasn't seeing things, she put her hair back and ran her hand along her neck, exposing her skin to his eyes. Seeing him steal a few glances made her overjoyed. So he does remember, she thought gleefully.
Going back to the stag, Baela prepared her arrow and drew back on her bow. Taking in a few breaths in and out to steady her aim, she let the arrow fly and saw it hit its mark, the neck. Seeing it fall to the ground, she emerged from her hiding place and slowly made her way to her kill. But before she did, she heard a few squeaks and turned to see two bear cubs walking nearby.
Her blood running cold, Baela knew that the mother bear had to be around her somewhere. Suddenly, a roar broke out behind her, causing her to turn around. Soon enough, she saw a huge black bear charging towards her, seeing her close to her cubs as a threat. The mother bear was going too fast and the distance was closing, not enough time for her to raise her bow. Given the size of the bear, it wouldn't have made much difference. She reached out to Moondancer. Girl, save me! But preparing herself, she closed her eyes and thought of Daeron.
Before the bear could claw at Baela, it howled in pain as a spear stuck into its side. Opening her eyes, she swore that she was seeing things, but blinked and there was Daeron pushing the bear away with the spear he had. "Get away from her, you beast!"
Like the annoying stories of knights coming to save the woman, here was Daeron being her knight, saving her in the nick of time. Shaking her head to come to her senses, she raised the bow and let loose an arrow at the bear, hitting it square in the shoulder. It bellowed in agony, but the two dragons seemingly being a threat to her cubs only had the strikes make her angrier.
Daeron rushed to Baela's side, putting down the spear and drawing his sword. "Get behind me," he tried to push her behind him before she pushed his arm away.
"No, we take it together," Baela insisted as she nocked another arrow.
However, the mother bear would not get another chance to strike, as two dragon shrieks came from above. Looking up, she saw Moondancer and Tessarion descend through the canopy and landed in front of their riders. Although Moondancer was still not large enough to ride, she could release dragonfire.
The mother bear was defiant to the dragons, as it held a position in the forest's pecking order and thus did not back down easily. It roared at the dragons, causing the dragons to hiss.
Daeron and Baela shared a glance before nodding. Hopefully, the cubs are strong enough, she wished. "Dracarys," they both said.
Tessarion and Moondancer unleashed a combined stream of fire onto the bear, with cries of pain replacing its malevolent grunts. It wasn't long before the bear was no more, merely a pile of ashes.
Daeron and Baela turned to each other, still a little shaken by the ordeal. But feeling the longing that they held ever since the Dragonpit, they pulled each other close and kissed. Their kiss became sloppier and deeper, with their hands moving across their backs and garments, and would have gone longer had it not been for their dragons chirping.
Sunfyre and Syrax were not known for being amiable with each other, which reflected Aegon's and Rhaenyra's growing animosity. However, the same couldn't be said of Tessarion and Moondancer, who were at least cordial with each other.
"Don't be scared," Baela teased him after seeing his curiosity at how their dragons interacted with each other before pulling into another kiss, this one lasting longer and the quietness of the forest added to the moment's serenity.
Their dragons rose up in the sky again and they both decided that it was better to not take their chances given their recent encounter. But before they had to separate once they reached the camping ground, Baela enjoyed how much time she was enjoying with Daeron at her side.
At the same time, given the bad feelings between her father and his mother, she would have thought that Daeron had a bad impression on her since the youngest was always the most susceptible to a mother's influence. "Daeron, I want to ask you something."
"Of course," Daeron kept walking alongside her.
"I saw you looking at me since we were kids, but not the kind of looks between just family. And you allowed me to kiss you three times, the last one being quite… lovely, if lacking a better word," Baela hesitated at the last part. But she also saw how Daeron blushed and failed to hide it.
"I liked it too," he said, making her heart flutter before she regained focus.
"May I ask… why do you like me?"
Daeron laughed nervously. "Do you need to ask that?"
"I like you too, Daeron," Baela confessed. "But I have to know what you see in me."
He sighed. "First time we were in the training yard, you wrestled me to the ground." Baela remembered clearly doing that and feeling overjoyed at being able to play with boys. "I've met many girls and then ladies over the years, both at court and at Oldtown. All of them were pretty, talked nicely, could dance and sing, and so on. But I saw something that they didn't want me to see, something that I saw in Aegon."
"What would that be?"
"Whenever they approached me and tried to say that they wanted to know me, I knew in my heart that they were being fake," Daeron shook his head. "They only wanted to know me because I was a prince, I could ride Tessarion, and I was the most agreeable of my brothers. They saw a charming knight riding on a white horse and that's all they saw. They didn't want to know me for who I really am and what I really cared for."
Baela could understand Daeron's frustrations, as those were feelings that she had to put up with from many lordlings seeking her hand. "That must've been tiring."
Daeron nodded. "But with you, you didn't care. You beat boys in wrestling out of all things, and you showed them that you were not some… fragile flower. You're not afraid of anything because you just do what you want to do, just like with Daemon and Rhaenys."
Baela was dumbfounded. "You think I'm not of afraid of anything? Who do you think I am?" This was probably the first time she was vulnerable with Daeron. "I'm scared of a lot of things."
Daeron grinned. "And that's why I like you. I'm scared of many things too, and there's only one person that I want to be scared with together. And that's you."
Baela stopped to turn her face to Daeron, before grabbing his shirt and forcing another kiss on him. Once they got out of breath, they rested their forehead on each other's. "And I want to be scared with you also."
Daeron embraced her and they laid their arms on each other's shoulders before they reached the camping ground. Placing a kiss on his cheek, Baela was sad to see Daeron return to the green side before she had to go to the black side, dreading what might have happened while she was out hunting.
Sure enough, she saw Jacaerys with his face covered with bruises and his left eye swollen, both of which were caused by a blunt impact.
She turned to Lucerys, who also sported a cut across his cheek. "What happened to the both of you, Luke?"
"That son of a bitch Aemond. He had his eye on Jacky's hunting spear and wanted it for himself, but he wouldn't let go," Lucerys spat venomously. Of course, Baela thought.
"And you fought him also?"
Lucerys nodded. "I jumped on his back and bit his head. He then drew his dagger and slashed across my cheek," he pointed to the cut. "I look forward to the day that I have Aemond's corpse in Arrax's jaws."
Baela admittedly wanted that to happen, as Aemond was showing himself to be quite merciless, as his beating and near killing of sparring partners in the Red Keep had become common knowledge within the family.
"I wish the same for that pig Aegon and the little man Daeron," Lucerys added.
Baela was offended at how Lucerys described him. "He's older than you, Luke, so he's not little."
"Not by much," Lucerys spat back. "And I'm sure Arrax can take on Tessarion as easily as I did with Aemond."
"Come now, Luke," Baela crossed her arms. "You know that Arrax is still growing. And please don't say that. Someone might be listening."
"Let them," Lucerys scoffed. "Better that those three cunts are dead and thus allowing mother to become queen, and I as a prince."
"Shhh!" Baela shushed him. "If your grandfather heard that you say that, you'll be in big trouble."
"Oh, and we're supposed to cower in front of Aemond?" Lucerys was offended at that prospect, which Baela didn't suggest. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're more like your dead mother than your rogue father."
Instinctively, Baela slapped Lucerys hard in the face, causing him to fall off the stool and shocking both he and Jacaerys. "How dare you! You might have come from muña's womb, but that gives you no right to talk however you want." She grabbed Lucerys' collar, but he resisted and tackled her to the ground after getting her hands off.
To their surprise, Rhaenys entered the tent to see on her grandsons, but was surprised and then ashamed at her children fighting. "What is this?" she asked, fire clear in her eyes.
"Nothing, grandmother," Lucerys said. She turned to Baela.
"He talked of my muña, the first one," Baela answered. That was all Rhaenys needed, as Lucerys was not known for holding his tongue.
"Outside," she pointed outward while speaking to Lucerys. "I'll deal with you later." Lucerys complied, not daring to disobey his grandmother, before giving another look to Baela.
"Hand me that rag and some wine, will you?" Rhaenys asked her, both which Baela gave before her grandmother tended to Jacaerys' wounds.
"Please forgive Luke, grandmother," Jacaerys pleaded her.
"I will speak to him later," Rhaenys told him as she rubbed his cheek with the wine-soaked rag, causing him to flinch from the sting. "Shame. This is Dornish red. And Baela, try not to fight with your siblings. You might not like them, but they are family. And we must try to value that when others are trying to do us apart. Understood?"
Baela sighed, not liking her grandmother's words, but heeded them nonetheless. "Yes, grandmother."
"Now, go to Nyra's tent. I'll tell her of what happened myself after we have eat supper."
Baela looked at Jacaerys one more time, who silently apologized for Lucerys' words with his good eye, before leaving. As she walked to her muña's tent, she prayed, Please protect Daeron. Let not Luke's words and threats come true.
A/N: Daeron is in Oldtown protecting his nephew Maelor, but Ser Myles Hightower has been introduced and he's as slimy as they come. And quite a gall on him, considering that in canon, Ser Myles was very much responsible for stealing the portion of the treasury deposited in the Hightower. Also, tensions are high in the seat of the Hightowers, but can Daeron protect Maelor from those that wish him harm?
Baela and Rhaena watching over Jaehaera and little Aegon was fitting in my opinion, especially since Jaehaera witnessed the chaos of her parents' marriage and Aegon is traumatized by what he had saw. But Jaehaera is adjusting well, and she'll need to in the future. Meanwhile, Baela is enjoying a good friendship with Nettles.
Now, for the Baela/Daeron flashback... I felt that more background was needed to explain how they finally got romantically involved. The hunt in the kingswood was something I came up with, as Viserys' last attempt to unite his family. And the bear scene was inspired by the Revenant, only what if Hugh Glass had a dragon? The question is whether Daeron and Baela will finally reunite again.
See you next time.