Rhaenyra

Familiar amethyst coloured eyes met her gaze evenly across the painted table.

Everything about the boy sitting across from her was painfully familiar. He had the same high, slanted cheekbones and slim nose that she herself had. His features reminded her of Daemon, Rhaenys and, somewhat oddly and in other ways not, her father. Though the boy did not exactly look like her father; King Viserys as she remembered him had lines around his eyes, overly full cheeks, severel chins and a lot of fat that were absent of the young man; they did share many features and Rhaenyra supposed her father may have looked like this once. The boy had the same bright, silver hair and deep purple eyes that her father, uncle and good-mother all shared. His face was thin, pale and elegent in much the same way her Aegon and Viserys and he already stood tall and slim despite being only four-and-ten. He still had room to grow, but he already resembled a younger Daemon.

In the back of her mind, she considered it insulting that the boy and his full-blood siblings had inherited the highest form of Valyrian traits, while she had been relegated to a softer, white-gold hair colour that her two younger sons had taken after and a paler eye colour, more a soft shade of lilac than anything else.

Across from her, the boy raised a pale eyebrow.

It took everything in Rhaenyra's power to repress the sneer that wanted to morph into existence on her face. She may not like him, but the boy had risked everything to save her son and it had left Rhaenyra torn. Part of her wanted to insult and offend and provoke. His bitch of a mother and the rest of her brood had cost her a throne and a daughter and very nearly a son. Daeron was their kin and therefore a target and had so kindly delivered himself to her. But the other part of her wanted to pull him into an embrace and give him whatever reward he wanted. But she was a Queen, so she could do neither. Not publicly at any rate.

"Has the wine done something to offend you, sister?" He spoke at last.

Rhaenyra blinked and realised that yes, at some point she had broken the stare and begun glaring at the wine in front of her. She looked up again and her mouth threatened to pull into a snarl at the smug, teasing smile that Daeron wore at her expense.

"It was meant to an arbor vintage, fit for none but the King or Queen. Unfortunately, it seems some bitter and spoiled fruits of Oldtown were involved in its making and have rather spoiled my taste for it," she said calmly and the barely veiled insult registered instantly, if the way his mouth turned downwards ever so slightly was any indication. Admittedly, she'd always thought him a smart lad.

He looked conflicted for a moment, before sighing mournefully and relaxing back into his chair.

"I'm afraid you're right, Your Grace," he said "and I fear those rotten fruits will turn everything sour soon enough. My own...tastes...have already been affected. It may be for the best to burn out that rot, before it can spread further."

There was the slightest hint of uncertainty in his voice when he mentioned his own tastes. Rhaenyra had half a thought to throttle the boy and had very nearly done so when he and Lucos had confessed their intamacy to her when they arrived on Dragonstone. She had held a fleeting suspicion beforehand of course, it was hard not to when you observed the boys together, and there had always been rumours but she'd never been certain and she had lacked any sort of proof. Now she knew. Lucos was like a son to her. While she didn't pretend to understand his strange...desires...she would not cast him out for it.

She could wish that he had fallen for someone other than her half-brother though.

As for the rest of his little speech...she smirked. If they were in court she not only would have scored a point against Alicent and her brood but Daeron would have, in effect, publicly announced his intention to back her to the throne. But the smile died on her lips. They were not in court. And while it would be so easy, and so satisfying, to slip into a role and play the little games she had learned at her fathers side, there was no need. Daeron had quite effectively announced his intentions in the boldest and most open way possible in attacking his own brother in defence of Lucerys. Not even a half-wit could mistake that move.

"Yes." She said. "Your taste's, as you put it. Lucos is like a son to me. For the love I bear him and your role in saving my son, I am willing to overlook your...activities, so long as you remain as discreet as possible. Aegon has already begun spreading rumours of the degenerecy of our side and we do not need to feed his slander."

She stood and as she spoke she walked, slowly and gracefully around the table until she was stood over him.

"But rest assured, should he come to any harm at your hand, you will live to regret it."

Daeron swallowed. He glanced down at first before raising his eyes and meeting her gaze.

"I have no doubt of it, My Queen," he said solemnly. "Should that day ever come, I pray you show no mercy."

She examined his expression closely but everything seemed sincere. That didn't mean too much; she knew how deceptive his ilk were and no matter what words he spoke she would be watching him closely; but for know it was enough. She nodded slightly and gestured for him to follow her. She check to make sure he obeyed. To do so would display a lack of confidence in her power and leadership. She couldn't show that. Least of all to a rival claimant. She heard him stand though and his footsteps echoed alongside hers as she led them out of her solar and into the Chamber of the Painted table.

Maester Gerardys was already there. He was sat sorting through scrolls of parchment, likely the latest set of letters to arrive at Dragonstone on the progress of the war. Rhaenyra smirked at the sight of the Chain of Office hanging on his robes. She had felt a viscious pleasure at ripping it off Orwyle when the man had delivered her brothers ridiculous terms to her. The traitors in the Red Keep should count themselves fortunate she hadn't thrown him in the dungeon there and then.

Lucos was there too, stood at the window and staring out over Blackwater Bay. He looked every inch a warrior. No longer the precocious child she so fondly remembered running around Dragonstone with Jacaerys. He wore a coal black breastplate over gleaming silver chain mail and thick brown leather as well as steel greaves, gauntlets and vambraces. His longsword was sat on one hip, the sapphire in the pommel almost sparkling in the light, with a dagger sheathed next to it and a small hand axe hooked through his belt on the other side. Though she couldn't see it, she was sure he had at least on other small blade stashed somewhere on him.

She might have told him that he needn't be so armoured on Dragonstone but he insisted.

"I'll be wearing this armour for true purpose soon enough," he'd told her a few days ago as she straightened the colar of his doublet and smoothed out the fabric over his shoulders. "I'll want to be used to it when that happens."

Both occupants of the room looked over at their entry. Gerardys smiled ever so slightly and bowed in greeting. He had advocated trust to her that morning when she laid out her plans to finally confront the issue of Daeron. He seemed pleased by her choice. But not like Lucos. His normally reserved face had lit up with joy when he saw the two of them enter together.

"Princ-Queen Rhaenyra," he fumbled her title momentarily before correcting himself. He turned to Daeron next and the stoic formality melted off his face and turned into pure adoration. "Daeron."

"None of that child," she scolded him. "I may not have birthed you but you are my son and in private you need not be so detached."

He smiled and nodded. "You've come to a decision then?"

"I have." She nodded and moved to the head of the table. Lucos, Daeron and Gerardys gathered around her as she sat. "Daeron has quite convinced me of his sincerity. I have every faith he will prove an asset to our cause. And," she held up a hand to halt Lucos' question. "I will not stand in the way of your desires for each other."

Gerardys' face did contort slightly at that. He was in favour of using Daeron as an asset. He was less fond of Daeron and Lucos' relationship. She wished she didn't understand. That she was able to disregard her concerns and instinctive revulsion and continue on as if it mattered not at all. She suspected her children would be better at that than her. The best she could do was pretend. To not speak or act against them. She could accept it and not interfere even if she couldn't bring herself to fully support the idea yet.

Besides. It was worth it to see the soft smile on both their faces and the way they leaned closer to each other just slightly now that they had permission. But they had more important matters to get to.

"Truly, little brother, you arrival has come at an opportune time. You know Aegon and Aemond better than any of us. Your insight will be invaluable," she said and almost laughed at the way he straightened and puffed his chest out. Not a child anymore, but still childlike in some ways. The blush on his face after showed that he had caught her little flattery game and was embarrased for having fallen for it even for a second.

The war wouldn't wait for their word games though, so Rhaenyra quickly filled the young man in on what had happened over the last few days. Lucos and the Maester both interjecting at times to explain the strategies better than she ever could. Daemon had taken Harrenhal and opened the castle for the forces of Darry and Mooton to gather while the Blackwood's had begun to launch raids into Bracken land. The declarations from the Lords of the Crownlands, Riverlands and Vale. Her support close to home was far greater than even she could have hoped for. Jace had done quite well in the Vale from all accounts and already the Royce's and Grafton's were gathering in Gulltown. She'd sent 40 Galley's from her own house to the port, ready to begin ferrying the men when they were ready.

She was still bitter about the Stormlands though. Lord Boremund's betrayal had cut deep enough on its own but that it nearly cost Luke his life...Thankfully, it seemed the Stormlands were not entirely devoid of honor. The marcher Lords had refused to join their banners to the host Boremund was gathering at Storms End and several of his bannermen had declared their loyalty to her. While she doubted they would be enough to defeat Lord Boremund's army, they might at least delay him from entering the fray in the Crownlands.

"They're surrounded on all sides." Daeron remarked.

"Not entirely. Lord Massey is making slow progress through the Kingswood our allies in the western Crownlands are being victorious and not in equal measure." Lucos responded.

"And Lord Footly to the south had not yet moved from Tumbleton."

"Massey's progress may be slow but undeniable. His enemies have more men but they are fighting seperately. Its slow but him to the south and our supporters gathering strength to his north Aegon will be able to feel the choke closing around him."

"What will he do?" Rhaenyra asked. She, Daemon, Jace and Corlys had discussed this at the original war council but she had been alone since then, her advisors spread across the country. She had second guessed the predictions about Aegon at every turn.

Daeron hesitated. "It depends. On his advisor's; on which of them he listens to. But if I had to say, he would probably lash out. Try to crush the defiance on one front. Its not a bad strategy to break the flank before it closes but the decision would be made out of emotion not logic. His anger is like dragonfire and if he doesn't keep it in check, it may burn him too."

"He'll march out?" Lucos asked eagerly. Daeron nodded somewhat hesitantly. Lucos turned to her with a grin. "That's it then. We hit them while their army is in the open and away from the protection of their walls!"

Rhaenyra shook her head. "We lack the forces here to succeed in such a battle. Once the Vale contingent arrives things may be different but for now...no, I won't risk it."

Lucos frowned. "We have dragons. We don't need the men, not for this."

"So do they. Where Aegon goes, Aemond won't be far. Especially not now." She nodded towards Daeron at that.

"If we command our forces in the Crownlands to retreat north towards Harrenhal, we may be able to lure Aegon and his army north," Daeron offered. "That would leave King's Landing open for us to take."

"That risks Aegon turning around and hitting us with our breeches down while we're still trying to secure the city."

"I agree. The army must go first before we turn our attention to the city itself."

"Then let me deal with it. Me, Rhaenys, Daeron and you. We have enough dragon riders too..."

Lucos cut himself off. She knew why. Dragon riders were a sore subject at the moment. It had been seven days since Lucerys had arrived back on Dragonstone with Lucos and Daeron in tow. Seven days since she had glanced out of her window and nearly been sick at the sight of Luke's dragon shaking and wobbling as it approached the island. Luke hadn't left his room since, even though the Maester said his wounds were superficial. Seven days since he'd eaten more than dry bread.

"How is he?" Lucos asked after a second.

Rhaenyra sighed and had to remind herself to keep her composure. To not display her fretting to the world.

"No change. He is still in a deep melancholy mood and isn't eating or sleeping properly. He still hasn't spoken. He still hasn't left his chambers."

"I can find no physical cause for his malady, Your Grace," Gerardys said, frowning. "Though it must be said, no one truly understand how the Targaryen bond with a dragon works. Nor how the loss of one might affect the rider."

Rhaenyra thought Luke was probably also blaming himself for Storm's End.

Arrax had landed none too gently on the beach. His wing had been all but wrenched from his body and his throat bore several deep, gushing wounds that looked like something; Vhagar's fangs she later learned; had puntured straight through his scales. Looking at the poor creature, it had been a shock that she had even managed to deliver her precious son back to her. Rhaenyra had doubted she would live. Daeron and Lucos had both thought so too, as they had taken their dragons to the Dragonmont without a word, leaving Lucerys and to comfort his dying companion with no one but herself and her Queensguard as witness.

He never got the chance.

The second the two had departed a dark shadow had descended. The Cannibal. A monstrously large creature that had hatched on the island at some point. Maybe even before the Conquest. Its size was comparable to only Vhagar and had charcoal scales and crimson red eyes. His wings were even darker than the rest of his body. It survived by eating young dragons as they hatched from eggs. It rarely, if ever, interacted with humans but it was viscious when provoked. No Targaryen had ever been able to tame him. Some Maester's theorized the egg Cannibal had hatched from may not have been from Valyria at all.

Cannibal rarely attacked full grown dragons and almost never when men were near. But it must have sensed some weakness from Arrax because there was no hesitation when it landed and clamped its jaws around Arrax's already ruined throat. With a twist and a gutteral growl, it wrenched the dragons head from his body and left it sat abandoned on the sand even as the gargantuan creature began to gorge on the meat of Arrax's neck.

Luke had let out a wordless, gut wrenching scream and drawn his sword at the sight as though to attack the beast. Thankfully, Ser Harrold and Ser Glendon were able to tackle him down and drag him away. A good thing too. Cannibal had hunched protectively over the corpse at Luke's scream and raised it's head, teeth bared and snout flaring with anger when he drew steel. Rhaenyra had no desire to see her son burn to ash, not when Arrax was already beyond saving. She had ordered Luke be taken back to the castle even as his fury devolved into broken sobs. Cannibal had sat on the beach all night before dragging what was left of Arrax's body back to his lair.

Rhaenyra couldn't imagine what it was like. So far as she knew the only rider who had ever lost his dragon and lived on after was her father. But his bond with Belarion had been more tenuous than any other rider and even then she knew he had only sunken to his hedonistic ways after the Black Dread's death. For Luke, who had seen Arrax hatch and grown alongside him and forged a close bond and was still just a child himself...she didn't know what she'd do if she lost Syrax. All she could do was try and comfort the despondant boy. But he barely responded.

Rhaenyra resolutely pushed Luke to the back of her mind. There was a part of her that wanted to leave the war to others and spend her days looking after her son. But there seemed to be nothing she could do for him and it was a war for her they were fighting. Already people had died for it. The least she could do was to plan the damn thing. First on that agenda was tempering Lucos' bloodlust.

She stood and ignored how much her body protested the movement. Her muscles ached and her bones throbbed. There was a pounding behind her eyes. She was a Queen. Queen's couldn't be weak.

"While I admire your enthusiam, Lucos, we will not be rushing blindly into Vhagar's jaws. We will be patient. Let Aegon's temper get the better of him and take advantage when it is too late to correct his mistake. Maester Gerardys; send raven's to Duskendale, Rosby and Stokeworth. Command them to combine their strength and march north. If Aegon wants to claim the Crownlands so desperately, we'll make it a true chase for him.

"Lucos, Daeron," she said, turning to the boys. "Lord Celtigar reports that our men will be ready to take ship at a moments notice. When Aegon gives chase to our loyal Lords, the three of us will fly to Driftmark and lead the army onto King's Landing, whether the Vale is here or no."

The Lords sworn directly to Dragonstone had managed to muster some three thousand men between them and Rhaenyra had ordered them to assemble on Driftmark, leaving her with only a garrison five hundred strong. Dragonstone was a small island. The fortress itself made up over half of the island. There was a small fishing village, two insignificant wooden holdfasts and a small market. Fitting three thousand men would have been possible but difficult, not to mention the Valemen that would hopefully be arriving soon.

Rhaenyra had sent half her fleet to Gulltown as soon as she heard there was an army assembling there under her banner. The Vale had a small defence fleet and a few trading ships. Nowhere near enough to transport an army to Driftmark. So, while the Velaryon ships continued to blockade the Gullet, her own galley's (and those of her bannermen) had sailed north.

"If Aegon hears of our movements, he will fly back to defend the city." Daeron pointed out. "His army may not be able to get back in time but he and Aemond can."

"Which is why my husband will..." Rhaenyra trailed off as the door creaked open. A pale and drawn figure in rumpled black clothing slipped through the gap, a scroll held tightly in his hand.

"Mother," Luke said, voice hoarse.

"Lucerys," Rhaenyra said, smiling at him. "Its good to see you up."

Lucerys didn't smile back. He unsteadily made his way to Gerardys and handed him the scroll.

"A raven came. From King's Landing. Your assistant was bringing it to you." He explained.

Gerardys unfurled the scroll; the seal was broken so Luke must have already read the message; and he instantly blanched. He read it again before looking at her. He was hesitant. Rhaenyra held out her hand. Gerardys made no move to hand her the letter.

"Your Grace..." he started.

"Your Queen is asking for that letter, Maester. Don't disobey her." Lucos warned. His voice was calm; kind even; and he looked entirely relaxed. But his hand rested a little too easily on the hilt of his sword. Rhaenyra felt touched that he would defend her so, even if it was unneccesary.

"Of course." The Maester said. "I simply worried. I should warn you this news is dire."

Rhaenyra read the letter. Then again. Then once more. She snarled.

How dare they. How dare they! HOW DARE THEY!

The letter crumpled in his fist and she could distantly hear Luke reciting the list of her dead supporters. The brave and loyal men and women who had been dragged out of the Black Cells and offered a choice between death and fealty to the traitor. Most had chosen death. Lord Stokeworth who had always made her laugh with his tales. Old Lady Fell; who four sons had all danced with her at a ball many years ago. Lord's Buckler and Caswell who had ridden against each other in a tourney when she was a child and they foolish young squires, both claiming to be riding for her honour.

And those who deny me at the sight of a sword, she thought, seething. Gaunt and Buckwell would pay for that.

The news had stoked Lucos' rage and Lucerys was eager to see Aemond dead. Both were pushing for a swift attack with as much force as they could muster quickly. Those two had always been similar in that way. They had temper's that burned bright and hot and fast and was as quick to cool. Daeron and Gerardys were trying to calm the pair it seemed. As was Ser Lorent, interestingly. He had become quite loose with his tongue recently.

Rhaenyra cared not. It was Aegon's move now. If he took their bait and marched then they would be patient and steal his home from behind. If he did not then they would converge from all sides and leave him trapped. It mattered little which he chose. Rhaenyra's temper was not like Lucerys'. Not like Lucos. Her anger sat brewing in her gut for every day it was not sated. It was like ice. Slow and patient but just a deadly. Rhaenrya would see Aegon burn for all that he had done. She didn't care if it was sooner or later.

As long as he burned.

So...I'm still not dead. And I'm still bad at updating regularly.

I'm still trying to get a bit better at that, so hopefully you'll see chapters more often but don't take it as a guarantee.

Anyway, I know I said this chapter would see us through to Rook's Rest but I decided to split it into two chapters (and two POV's) so we get either Jace, Daeron or Lucos (I'm thinking the latter) to catch the Black story back up to the Green.