Prologue.
King's Landing 98 AC.
Queen Alysanne Targaryen.
Alysanne thought all in all things could be much worse. She still missed her exiled daughter dearly but she would just have to keep trying. She still prayed for her to come home to speak with her one last time.
Alysanne knew her time was limited and she would like a visit from Saera one last time before she perished. Though there was not much she could do in that department.
Now she was focusing on two of her grandchildren.
She had arranged their marriages and they so far had worked very well. Though Alysanne did worry about Viserys' wife. She seemed to struggle in conception. Though the two loved each other very much and that helped with marriages.
Daemon though had been lucky and unlucky at the same time. She arranged for him to marry Lyanna Stark. Alysanne would admit it couldn't have been a better pairing.
Lyanna had literally knocked some sense into Daemon and the two found a fondness that Alysanne was sure was love.
She had once thought that marrying Daemon to Rhea Royce would have been a good choice. Looking back she was glad she didn't.
Lyanna got Daemon to straighten up some and act more as a married man should. Though Lyanna had a wildness that reminded her very much of Alyssa.
Just another daughter that was taken too soon from her.
The two would ride on the back of Caraxes to only the gods knew where but would always come back smiling and covered in grass stains.
Unlike Aemma, Lyanna conceived quickly and bore a son that was a little jewel. Though at the cost of her own life. Little Aemon was born a mere two hours after Rhaenyra and the two were practically twins in everything but appearance.
Aemon had his mother's dark hair and dark grey eyes. He had his father's features though everywhere else. He was even a little on the wild side sometimes as if to remind everyone who his parents were. Aemon was mainly a quiet child watching as he looked to be observing the world. The egg placed in his crib hadn't hatched either, it worried Alysanne a little but she had faith that perhaps one of the other dragons would be his one day.
Alysanne knew that the boy would have a harder heart than most children. The ones whose mothers don't survive usually do.
Daemon though was hit by the loss harder than anyone else. He had quickly fallen into a pit of despair and grief. It was almost as if a piece of him was missing. He started going back to his old habits of drinking in Flea Bottom with riff-raff. Then also finding whatever pleasure that took his pain away.
Daemon doted on his son quite often as well. He looked to him with a fondness that he shared for no one else. For all of Daemon's issues being a father wasn't one of them. Aemon recently had his first nameday with Rhaenyra the two causing more havoc than anyone thought possible.
Viserys and Aemma watched fondly the two children who were now ripping open the cake. Daemon had Aemon on his lap eating the smushed cake his son was trying to feed him.
It was the closest she had seen Viserys and Daemon in what now seemed a little while. Daemon was always on the ambitious side but like many of his worst habits Lyanna quelled them.
Alysanne knew that it was only a matter of time before his ambitions would come back so she decided now was the best time to put a stop to it. She found that most matters like this were better nipped in the bud.
She walked into her solar, the cane she had made walking even take considerable effort. How she wished she was still young.
She sat down and had a servant pour four glasses of wine. Then she had the same servant call for Viserys, Daemon, and Aemma. She also made sure that the children were brought as well. Aemon and Rhaenyra could melt the Wall when the two were together.
Viserys and Aemma arrived first as the sweet couple they are. Viserys pulled out Aemma's chair for her.
Daemon arrived late as usual for him. His cheeks were a little red and he sat down with a small huff. Then he just smiled as if nothing was wrong. Alysanne did not want to know where he was found as only Gods know the mischief he was up to.
She would have included Baelon but he was at Dragonstone so it was just her and her grandchildren. Baelon also tended to be a little dramatic for things like this. Then the children were brought in.
Daemon's whole face changed. There was a softness there that she had never seen anywhere else with her grandson. It made her proud of him and gave her good hope for little Aemon.
Aemon and Rhaenyra were now on the floor playing with each other. Rhaenyra was trying to stack wooden blocks while Aemon would go and collect them from another pile. Once the stack got high they knocked it down laughing.
Before they came too distracted with the children Alysanne decided that business was going to be conducted.
"Well, now that we are all here I would like us to get to business." She stated in a polite but strong tone.
"Yes, Grandmother." They all replied.
"Well, nothing like the present." She started. "I would like to start with talk of betrothals."
"Grandmother I am not going to wed again," Daemon said. His tone left little room for argument and it was worth a try to see if he would be open to it again.
"I would like to propose a betrothal between Aemon and Rhaenyra." She said to a stunned room. She decided to continue.
"As we know we cannot predict the future but now we can try and prepare for it." She said to very concerned faces.
"Viserys. I do not think you would disagree that you and Aemma have had difficulties conceiving."
They both had a small look of shame. Alysanne didn't blame them but securing the future of their family was necessary.
"I am not mad or ashamed of you, but this is for the family. Should there not be any more children between you two and Daemon even years from now doesn't marry again then we must secure our line." All of them actually nodded their heads.
"I see we now understand what is happening here. Now, do we all agree to this betrothal?"
All three verbally agreed. They all watched the children play for a few minutes. Then as the children were showing signs of getting tired their nurses came and took them to the nursery.
"I believe that we should talk further," Daemon said.
"What do you wish to speak of?" Alysanne asked.
"The line of succession in this agreement." Daemon stated plainly.
"I will leave that for you two to discuss when the time comes. You are both brothers, remember that. Though it seems you will have time to do the planning for it. First, your grandfather will finish his rule, then your father his, and who knows if the gods bless our family then Aemma will have sons soon and we won't have to worry about any of it."
That is what she hoped. Daemon was ambitious but never said it out loud. Alysanne was sure it came from him wanting to keep people on their toes around him. He always was thinking of how to do that.
Still a small part of her knew for some reason that Aemon and Rhaenyra would rule someday. She would never say this aloud as she would only want that as the last resort.
"Well if there are no more questions then I believe it wise to adjourn," Alysanne said as the others left her solar.
After they all left Alysanne released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her plan worked. She had appealed to something that only dragons could understand. We are the few, the proud, and the strong. Things aren't easy when there aren't as many of us as we would wish.
It was why she arranged this proposal. For her family. Alysanne had lost too many of her children already.
Viserys knew the challenges of having children with his wife. So he knew now he would not be forgotten. Father of a queen and uncle to a king. It also took some of the pressure off him and Aemma. As if they needed more of that. Viserys would be king someday but he will do a good job.
Daemon had ambitions, but most of all wanted what was best for his son. There would be no better marriage for the children. The chances of the two being closer to any other she couldn't foresee. Aemon and Rhaenyra are already inseparable. The gods only know how they will be when they grow.
Sometimes Alysanne got a feeling in her gut about things and this was one of them.
She felt in her gut that Aemon and Rhaenyra would-be rulers of the realm one day. She couldn't tell whether she should be happy or worried about what her gut is telling her. Though Alysanne would pray for them all anyway.
She got to her chambers as it was taking more energy just to get from one point to another for her these days.
Alysanne didn't really care what time it was as she crawled into bed to rest her eyes. As she closed her eyes she knew the proposal today would bear fruit.
Kings Landing 103 AC.
Daemon Targaryen.
There had been times over the past few years when Daemon had been lost. When Lyanna had been taken from this world and when his sweet and innocent aunt had taken her own life. Upon losing his beloved grandmother and the father that Daemon loved even with their strained relationship. Now, upon the death of his grandfather, Daemon felt it once more. Yet as it had been on all the other occasions he felt it, it was Aemon who would allow him to feel it but briefly.
From the first moment Daemon looked upon his son, he felt Aemon make a place within his heart. A place that had only truly been occupied by his mother alone before him. Daemon heard some people say that he should hate the boy because he took his love from him, but Daemon could never blame Aemon for that. Especially when each time he looked at Aemon, he saw his dearest Lyanna in Aemon's dark grey eyes or in his smile which was enough to make the worst of days turn and be the best of them. No, Daemon could never hate his son, not when Aemon made him so very proud of him in each and everything he did.
Aemon was a natural with a sword at six name-days old; he was far beyond older boys, and would one day surpass even himself, Daemon believed. That it had been Aemon's own desire and not his fathers that had first taken Aemon to the sparring yard only made Daemon even keener to teach Aemon himself rather than allow someone unworthy to do so. They had developed their own routine, just the two of them; from Daemon tucking him into his bed at night, as often as he could, to them making their way to the sparring yard first thing in the morning.
This morning was no different as Daemon woke up to find his son already at the door and soon to be by his bed. His smiling face was enough to force away the grief that had hit him the night before. He drank, was drunk, and had fallen into an almost stupor, but Daemon had somehow found his own bed and not someone else's. That did not mean that someone had not found their way into his, as Daemon now noticed the naked lady snuggled on his chest. This would not be good for Aemon to see so Daemon quickly had to wake up his companion.
"Get up and hide now!" Daemon said in a loud whisper.
"What my lord?" she said in a groggy voice.
"Get out of sight now before I have you flogged." that did not come out as a whisper but a menacing low tone that showed his anger. She quickly hid and not a moment too soon as Aemon burst through the door.
"Good morning, Kepa," Aemon said, excitedly.
"Good morning, little dragon." The menacing look was replaced with a bright smile as quickly as the other.
"You need to get up Kepa, there is much to do today," Aemon ordered like a prince.
"That there is, my shirt?" he asked smirking as Aemon hurried over to where his shirt lay on the floor, his soon grabbing his britches too. Daemon hoped Aemon did not notice the other clothes sprawled around the room.
"Go wait with Ser Steffon while Kepa dresses," Daemon said in a fatherly tone so unfamiliar to most who knew him.
"Hurry Kepa, much to do," Aemon ordered, and Daemon chuckled as his son ran to the door. After his son left, the woman popped out from the other side of the bed. Daemon spoke before she had a chance to say something that would no doubt irritate him.
"I assume you can find your way back to whatever hovel I drug you out of."
In less than an hour Aemon, Ser Steffon Darklyn, and Daemon had made their way to an empty sparring yard. The knight took up his place as Aemon hurried to grab the two wooden swords, one of them thin for him while the other was a little thicker for Aemon himself. One day his son too would wield Dark Sister, of that Daemon had no doubt, and hopefully a legendary bastard sword as well. For now, however, Daemon wished to build some strength in his little arms and though at times the thicker wood was a strain, Aemon forbore it well.
Daemon knew that he was smiling as they sparred, his son's looks to him were proof enough of that. Though they did not stay long, it did set him up for the day. As they sat down to drink their water, Daemon wished to know how Aemon himself was taking his great grandfather's passing.
"Nyra will be sad, Kepa. So I must stay strong." Aemon said determinedly.
"Yet you are sad too are you not?" Daemon asked.
"I am, but…."
"Aemon." he chided, "You remember what we said comes after that word?" he heard his son's chuckle as he nodded. It had been something that Lyanna would say often, one of her many little sayings that he'd spoken to his son about.
"Anything after the word But is horseshit, Daemon Targaryen."
He could almost hear her voice as if she was here speaking the words herself.
"Grandfather Jae is with Gamma now, father. With Muña, Grandfather Bael, and aunt Gael. I am sad but happy for him too."
Daemon turned to look at his son, Aemon had known far too much loss in his young life, both him and his niece. Had they not had each other then Daemon would fear it may have broken them or changed them into someone they were not. Daemon thanked the gods he did not truly believe in and the woman he had loved with all he was, for that much at least.
"Come, I can hear your belly as it rumbles and sounds even louder than Caraxes' roar." he japed and almost missed the frown on Aemon's face "Aemon?"
"What? Oh…it's nothing, Kepa." Aemon said, now trying to act like his father did not notice.
It was far from nothing and probably the only true blight on his son's life other than not having known his mother. Aemon wanted for little and as a prince of the blood, he possessed almost all he wished for. The best teachers, a father's love, and even a mother's love from his Goodsister. Yet Aemon's egg had never hatched and it seemed to have grown cold, bothering Aemon greatly. It had bothered Aemon more since Rhaenyra had bonded with her dragon, Syrax. No words of Daemon's have been enough to convince his son that Aemon too could one day bond with a dragon. When Daemon joked that he could have Caraxes when he was gone, it did not go down well at all. So despite wishing to offer Aemon comfort now, Daemon knew he could and should not.
"Come, my own belly is rumbling now too," he said, forcing a smile from his son.
They no sooner broke their fast than Aemon was off running through the Red Keep. Daemon had no idea to ask anyone where he went either, and looked to Ser Steffon who now turned to follow after him. Daemon offered the Kingsguard a nod of his head in return.
With Aemon gone, that left Daemon alone, making his mood soon darken. Daemon was at a loss for what to do and was irked when he bumped into Otto Hightower as the two of them strolled around the Red Keep in their separate wanderings. To say he misliked the man would be to do his feelings a disservice. Daemon hated him as much as he was hated back in return. The Hand of the King was a leech, a parasite, feeding off their family's teats like a hungry babe and a fucking ugly one at that.
"Prince Daemon." Ser Otto began.
"Ser Otto," Daemon said. The contempt they had for each other was clear in their voices. Yet for some reason, the other man decided to stop and speak to him some more.
"A sad day for the realm, my prince. His grace shall be most missed." Otto said keeping their discussion cordial for now.
"He shall." Daemon replied, his answer short and cold.
"I wish to offer my condolences to Prince Aemon and yourself. Alicent would often say how much his grace welcomed being visited by the prince and princess." Otto said.
"Dragons seek out other dragons, Ser Otto. They welcome their company most of all. Other lesser beasts are simply prey and beneath them." Daemon practically seethed.
"Indeed." Otto sneered, taking his insult to his daughter how it was meant.
"Good Day, Ser Otto, as my son said to me this morning, there is much to do." The smile on Daemon's face had more menace than any sort of happiness.
"That there is, my prince. Much to do, indeed." Otto ended.
Daemon did not look back at the man when he walked away, and had no need to do so in order to know that Otto had looked at him more than once. Instead, Daemon made his way to his niece's room only to find neither sight nor sound of either her or his son. Worried just a little, Daemon spent the next few moments seeking Aemon out, only to finally come across his brother as he looked out the window to the small private garden that only family was allowed to visit.
"Look at them, by the gods we're luckier men than most," Viserys said, a smile on his face as he looked through the window.
Daemon did likewise and he found a smile soon coming to his own face at the sight he was presented with. Normally it was Rhaenyra who led the games and the mischief. She would lead Aemon into ill-advised escapades that were often spoken of around the Red Keep. His son would take the blame, and name it as his idea. Rhaenyra would stand by his side with a look on her face that was as innocent as the Maiden herself. Yet neither of them fooled anyone; Aemma, Viserys, and Daemon were well aware of who the ringleader of their adventures truly was.
Today however it was Aemon who led them in their game of keep away. Rhaenyra had taken the death of her great-grandfather to heart, just as Aemon knew she would. Now though Rhaenyra laughed as Aemon ran under Ser Steffon's legs and as he dodged just out of the knight's reach. His son used his quickness and agility to avoid the arms that tried to grab him. In Aemon's hand was a feather he had taken from the knight's helm, but Ser Steffon's annoyed expression was clearly a mummery. Daemon had no doubt, especially knowing his son, that it had all been agreed beforehand when Ser Steffon had finally caught up with him. Viserys' loud laugh pulled Daemon away from his thoughts and Daemon's smile grew mischievous.
"Blessed by the gods, indeed." his brother said a moment later.
King's Landing 103 AC.
Ser Otto Hightower.
Otto wished to hold the coronation first of all and had been overruled. Viserys wished for his grandfather to be honored as he deserved and ordered a week of mourning. So the crowning had to be done in a private ceremony witnessed by the king's family and the Small Council. There would later be another one in a public ceremony. The Tourney of Asscesion was to be held in Maidenpool much to Otto's annoyance as he had wished for it to be held in King's Landing. Yet again Otto was overruled by the new king.
Be it Viserys wishing to show that he was the one in control or his brother Daemon whispering in his ear, Otto knew not. Otto only knew that he was on shakier ground than he had been in some time. He sent word to Lord Walys Mooton to make the town and tourney grounds ready for four moons hence. Otto felt that was as far as he could push the date away, or bring it forward, while he stayed in the king's good graces. Otto already risked losing even more favor with the king when he argued against Prince Daemon being named Master of Coin.
"Are you sure that is a wish choice, your grace? Prince Daemon has many talents, a willingness to govern is not among them." Otto asked in a tone that would hopefully get a more favorable reaction.
"My brother has changed much these past few years, Ser Otto. Having a son has seen Daemon curb his worst impulses and though he may not have forgotten some of his worst excesses completely, he is far more discreet in them, is he not?"Viserys' tone was kind but held the authority of a king.
"He is, your grace, yet I'd counsel you to reconsider." Otto tried again.
"I've made my choice, Ser Otto. A role must be found for my own brother and this one is open. Daemon is to be Master of Coin." Viserys said in a low tone that held enough force that Otto was left with no other choice.
"As you command, your grace," Otto said as he submitted.
Otto was not sure which of the two he disliked more, the father or the son. Daemon may have hidden his dalliances with whores and his visits to the seediest places in King's Landing. Nevertheless, Prince Daemon continued with his roguish behavior. Yet as some sort of favor to his dead wife's memory, or to their son's sensibilities, to all and sundry, it seemed he had. As for the boy? The betrothal arranged by Queen Alysanne still irked Otto and made his job that much more difficult. Not only did it put Daemon Targaryen's son too close to the king and his daughter, thereby the Iron Throne as well, but it took both of them off the table when it came to alliances too.
What was maybe worst of all though was that while Daemon may do the world a favor and end up getting himself killed, but through his son, it would still be his blood that ended up on the Iron Throne should the king not bring about an heir himself. With that son betrothed to Viserys' daughter, there would be little chance of Prince Aemon being removed from the line of succession at any point in the future. Daemon, his spawn, either of them sitting on the Iron Throne was as bad as the other to Otto's mind and so Otto hated them both equally, for now.
The great and the good had come to King's Landing to pay their respects and to later kneel and swear fealty to the new king. As he readied for his day, Otto looked in on his daughter as she slept and as always it brought a smile to his face to see her so at peace. Alicent had done much with the old king in his final days, his daughter doing far more than the simple duty he'd tasked her with and she mourned the man even more truly than Otto himself did. Not that he didn't mourn Jaehaerys Targaryen, he'd raised him up after all. However, Otto was a practical man and kings fell, you just had to hope you retained the favor of the next one when they did. Something he'd been at great pains to see was so since Viserys had been named king.
"Shall I wake the little miss, milord?" Mara asked, catching him lost in thought as he sometimes was often to do.
"You had better. We must break our fast and head to the Dragonpit, King Jaehaerys is to be given to the fire today." Otto ordered.
"He shall be missed, milord. The little miss was most fond of him and he, her." Mara said.
Later as Otto broke his fast with his daughter Otto tried to turn his thoughts to the day's proceedings and found he could not. The true work began now and with Daemon sitting at the table, things would be more difficult than ever. King Jaehaerys' illness meant the running of the realm had been left almost entirely to Otto. Viserys as heir had shown little true interest in ruling, though he was showing more now, and he had rarely questioned any decision Otto had made. Daemon Targaryen though would question each and every single one of them.
With him in charge of the coin that most decisions he made would need, things could get most difficult over the next few moons. He'd wager that Daemon would last not much longer than that, especially in a position that would be as dull to him as coin counting would prove to be. Still, the damage he could do to his relationship with the new king may be severe. Should he poison the well too much, then not even his pin would be safe, and without it, what was he?
"A second son who stands to inherit nothing at all." he heard the voice say in his mind, a voice that he was soon able to put a face to, that of the Rogue Prince himself.
"It is time to go, father," Alicent said, and Otto nodded as he rose to his feet.
"Indeed, come my child, let us go pay our respects."
It was at times like this that Otto wished Alicent's mother lived still. The grief that Alicent felt over her death and now the death of King Jaehaerys was not something Otto was able to help her with. As they made their way to the courtyard, Otto was happy to catch sight of his sons. Gwayne in particular was more able to soothe his daughter's pain than Otto had ever been and it allowed Otto to concentrate on the day to come.
Their retinue was among the first to arrive at the Dragonpit. Otto had wished to travel with the King's party but believed that he was refused leave to do so at Prince Daemon's behest. Viserys' words to him that said it needed to be family only had seemed to Otto to have come directly from Daemon's lips. Looking around at the crowd, at the pyre in the center of the Dragonpit, reminded Otto far too much of Queen Alysanne's own funeral with all the grief that surrounded it. Smallfolk, Lords, Ladies, Knights, and Merchants had all shed tears when Vermithor had set the pyre alight. Otto wagered today it would be no different, though which dragon was to do the honors, he knew not.
"Please let it not be Caraxes," he whispered softly to himself. Sending a small prayer to the Seven as well.
When the king's party arrived, Otto's, and everyone else's eyes turned to the carriage as the sight that greeted them was as impressive as one could find in King's Landing. Surrounded by all seven knights of the Kingsguard, along with what looked to his discerning eye to be Prince Daemon and his son Aemon both mounted, was the royal carriage in all its splendor. Otto looked on keenly as it came to a stop with Prince Daemon, Prince Aemon, and the Kingsguard now all dismounting as one.
It was Daemon who held the door open for King Viserys and Queen Aemma to climb down from the carriage and then Aemon helped princess Rhaenyra do the same. There were some 'Oohs' and 'Ahwws' in the crowd at the latter sight, Otto was not among them. At what point Prince Daemon moved away from the others, he knew not. Otto's attention had been caught by the Sea Snake, his wife Princess Rhaenys the Queen who Never Was, and their children. Otto's mind was lost in thoughts of how a betrothal between Prince Aemon and Lady Laena or Princess Rhaenyra and Lord Laenor would serve the realm far better than the one the 'Good Queen' had imposed upon them.
If it had not been for the ear-splitting roar and the excited gasps from the crowd, then Otto may not have noticed it at all. Otto looked to the sky as Caraxes flew to the pyre, everyone's breath stilled as the flames came from the Blood Wyrm's great jaws while Otto bristled in his annoyance. Otto remained that way even at the feast that night. Most of the night was spent sitting at his table Otto did his best to hide his scowl and hoped people accepted it as his grief for the loss of the king. Otto feared he may say something that would cause him some trouble if he looked at Prince Daemon or his son Prince Aemon. The two of them were dressed as almost mirror images of each other, and the young boy wore the same half smile on his face as his father did more than once.
The longer the feast went on the worse Otto felt, then just as he was heading to his bed, came one of the sweetest sounds Otto had ever heard in his life. It was a sound Otto would remember for a long time afterward, and one he prayed he would hear again before the night was done.
"My Son! Where is my son?" Daemon Targaryen exclaimed loudly, the panic in his voice as sweet as any bard's song to Otto's ears.
King's Landing 103 AC.
Ser Steffon Darklyn.
Prince Daemon's pained cry shook Steffon from his contemplations. Daemon's angered one a moment later did so even more. Around Steffon the feast had now all but come to an end, and Steffon looked to his brothers in white along with the king and queen before hurrying from the Throne Room. Steffon's destination was the princess's chambers to make sure that Rhaenyra was safe in her bed and to double-check that was not where Prince Aemon had snuck off to. Though he knew that Prince Daemon would have more than likely checked there first before worrying so.
The young prince and princess were inseparable at times. Both were well known to the servants and guards around the Red Keep for the mischief they could get caught up in. It was never malicious or with ill intent more often than not, but something that brought a smile to the faces of the king, queen, Prince Daemon, or even those unlucky enough to be caught up in that mischief. More times than not it was Princess Rhaenyra who instigated it, usually with Prince Aemon both a willing participant and to make sure that no harm came to the princess from her wanderings. These past few days it had been Prince Aemon who led their fun, as he did all he could to ensure that the princess's sadness was a fleeting thing.
Upon reaching the princess's rooms, Steffon asked Ser Arryk Cargill if she was abed and was told she was. Despite trusting his sworn brother's word implicitly, he needed to check for himself, and besides, he wished to check if maybe Aemon was present too. Quietly, he opened the door and made his way to the princess's bed. She lay there asleep and oblivious to the worries that were at present sweeping through the Red Keep. After a thorough search of her bed-chamber, privy, dressing room, and even under her bed, Steffon moved back to the door.
"Prince Aemon is missing, Ser Arryk. No doubt his grace will wish to ensure that Princess Rhaenyra is safe and well. I advise you to stand inside the door and keep an even closer eye on her while I inform the king that I've seen both her and you with my own eyes." Ser Steffon said.
"Prince Daemon came by, but I assumed…." Arryk said worriedly. "I'll make sure the princess remains abed, Ser Steffon, you have my oath on it."
Assured now of the princess' safety, Steffon firstly hurried back to inform the king and queen that they had no need to worry over their daughter. Prince Daemon was both interrogating guards and looking at the Hand of the King with a look that did not bode well for the man, but it was Prince Aemon that Steffon concentrated on. Knowing that Lord Commander Redwyne would see to the king and queen's safety, and no one would care about the Hand's, Ser Steffon hurriedly made his way to the young prince's rooms.
Aemon's bed showed signs that he had lain in it and yet even a cursory search of the room was enough to show that he was no longer there. Leaving the room, Steffon headed to the library and then the Grandmaester Chambers as Aemon would often be found in one or the other. Grandmaester Runciter said he had seen no sight of Prince Aemon since earlier that morning and Steffon had no reason to doubt the man.
Steffon took a moment to think where the young prince may go and soon enough Steffon rushed down the stairs towards the sparring yard. Yet here too there was no sight nor sound of the young prince, and now Ser Steffon was beginning to worry that it may not have been by his own volition that Prince Aemon had gone missing. It was a sobering thought and one that Steffon soon found out that Prince Daemon had reached long before he had. When Steffon made his way back to where the Rogue Prince was interrogating the guards and servants, his countenance alone made that as clear as the words he spoke.
"If I find out that any one of you had ought to do with my son's disappearance, I'll feed you to Caraxes and I swear it here and now, the Blood Wyrm will fucking savor every single bite he takes," Daemon spoke in a way Steffon had never heard before. There was no mirth to his words like usual. Even Daemon's threats were charming, but they were not here.
Steffon looked at those the prince spoke to. He doubted there was a single one of them who did not believe Prince Daemon's words and they were right to. For never had he seen such a look upon Prince Daemon's face as he wore and Steffon feared for more than just those he spoke to should Prince Aemon come to any harm. Steffon listened as the king gave the order for the city to be locked down and as the commander of the City Watch was sent for. Not a single man would sleep this night, and it was but reluctantly that the king and queen made their way to their own chambers.
"Go to bed Viserys. I will handle this." Daemon said to the king again with nothing but menace in his voice.
As for those who came to the feast to pay their respects to King Jaehaerys, all of them were still at their seats in the Throne Room, and Steffon would wager Prince Daemon would seek them out next.
"We must find the prince." Steffon heard Ser Ryam say. "Else I fear blood will be shed tonight, maybe even fire too."
"He could not have been spirited away, Lord Commander." Ser Erryk said as Ser Ryam, Ser Harrold Westerling, and Ser Steffon looked at him, unsure whether that was true or not.
"Then where is the boy Ser Erryk? Prince Aemon is precocious, true enough, and prone to mischief, but he would not do anything like this." Ser Harrold said.
"Has anyone checked the dragon skulls?" Lord Commander Redwyne said and before he finished, Steffon had raced off to do just that.
Steffon almost kicked himself for not doing it sooner. The young prince was ever fascinated with dragons and especially since his dragon egg had turned to stone. Even more so since Princess Rhaenyra had bonded with her own dragon, Syrax. Steffon reached the floor where Balerion's skull among others was kept, and Steffon remembered the sadness in the young prince's voice when he spoke to the dead dragon. Aemon had asked the Black Dread why he felt he was not worthy of a dragon of his own.
"Is it because my mother was from the North?"
"Because I don't bear the looks of my father?"
"Is it some other reason?"
"Why won't you speak to me?"
"Why am I not worthy?"
It had almost brought a tear to Steffon's eye and was one of the few times that he broke his charge's confidence. Steffon actually went to Prince Daemon and spoke the words that his son had said. Steffon listened in as Daemon spoke to his son in a voice unlike any Steffon had ever heard Prince Daemon use before. The concern and reassurance that Daemon gave his son along with the japes about having Caraxes should none other suffice, all helped somewhat, or so Steffon had thought.
Had he been wrong?
After Steffon searched every single nook and cranny, he found no sign that Prince Aemon had been here at all in the last few days. When Steffon left the skull behind he remembered that had been so. Other than at Aemon's lessons, by his father's side, or with Princess Rhaenyra, the young prince had gone nowhere else. So concerned was Aemon for his cousin's feelings that he wished to be as close to her as he could be just in case her sadness at their great-grandfather's death had left her overwrought.
The city was searched as thoroughly as it could be, especially at night. Daemon had moved from the servants to those he believed bore some grudge against him, and he was not polite in his questioning of them. Daemon never crossed a line or raised a hand, but he left no one in any doubt that he was willing to do more than that. Lord, Lady, or Knight, the Rogue Prince cared not. Steffon had no doubt there would be some hurt feelings and ruffled feathers for quite some time because of it. For once though Steffon was on the Rogue Prince's side. As the day began to dawn, just like the prince's, Steffon's own worries were turning to despondency.
Prince Aemon was not truly Steffon's charge. Aemon had guards that were handpicked by his father who guarded him more often than Steffon or the rest of the Kingsguard. Because Aemon spent almost all his time in the Red Keep and was so close to the princess, it had almost become an unwritten rule for one of the Kingsguard to shadow him too. More often than not he was the designated one, and Steffon very much enjoyed the days he spent following in the two children's footsteps. He even took part in the game that Prince Aemon had set in motion to cheer Princess Rhaenyra up the other day. Steffon allowed him to remove a feather from his helm and then performed a mummery of being angered by it. That it was something Steffon had been asked to take part in rather than been forced to, only warmed him even more to the boy.
Steffon was lost in thought when the roar was heard and never even noticed that he ran to the balcony along with Prince Daemon and others. The sight of Vermithor the "Bronze Fury" as it flew by was as awe-inspiring as ever, but it was the sight of the young boy with his smiling face as he sat on its back that Steffon would remember for the rest of his days.
"Is that?"
Before Ser Steffon knew it he rode alongside Prince Daemon at galloping pace through the streets of King's Landing and thanked the Seven who are One that the City Watch had all but shut down the streets in search of the young prince. Barely waiting for his horse to stop, Prince Daemon vaulted from its back and Steffon almost had to do the same just so he could keep pace with him. Dragon-keepers were pushed aside receiving a glare from the Rogue Prince and then Steffon heard the loud roars of Vermithor. They rushed through to seek out the Bronze Fury and the boy they saw on his back.
The sight that greeted them was one he could never have imagined. Prince Aemon lay on his belly in front of the Bronze Fury's head while he spoke directly to the dragon. The words were Valyrian and Steffon understood none of them, but their tone was enough to bring a smile to his face and a laugh from Prince Daemon. One that only grew louder when the prince spoke to his son and asked him what he was up to.
"Vermithor was sad, Kepa. He is not anymore though." Prince Aemon said as he reached out to touch the dragon's snout, and the loud trill that came from Vermithor more than proved his words to be true.
King's Landing 103 AC.
Aemon Targaryen.
Aemon had dreamed for as long as he could remember. Strange and confusing dreams filled his young mind. Dreams of places Aemon had never been and only heard about. Of the giant wall of ice that ran the length of the North that he had learned of in Grandmaester Runciter's books. Dreams where he ran through a forest that was not the Kingswood and where he attacked a stag with tooth and claw. Aemon dreamt of three wraiths in white cloaks fighting seven specters by a tower in the desert. Sometimes he dreamt of a woman with dark hair and grey eyes riding a horse so fast that even his Kepa could not keep pace with her.
Mainly though, Aemon dreamt of dragons. Of himself as he flew high in the sky atop a dragon's back. Its green scales shone in the light of the sun or as the falling snow melted upon its wings in the sky. Aemon dreamt of flying over lands that were covered in snow as far as the eye could see. Lands that Aemon knew not, but would name as the lands of his Muña. Aemon dreamt of other lands too, King's Landing, Blackwater Bay, Dragonstone, and Driftmark from the view atop a dragon's back.
Kepa had taken him on Caraxes more than once, and more regularly since his egg had grown cold. Aemon had seen some of Dragonstone, King's Landing, and Blackwater Bay; he has not seen Driftmark yet. In Aemon's dreams, he knew it was those he saw, but Aemon welcomed and cursed them at the same time. The truth was that Aemon would never get to experience it alone, and other than with his Kepa or mayhap with Nyra, Aemon would never know what it was like to fly through the sky like the Dragonriders of before.
"I was found not worthy." he'd whisper sadly.
Aemon knew not why that had been, and when Nyra bonded with Syrax Aemon put aside his own feelings while he showed only joy for hers. Aemon argued with his Kepa when Kepa told him that Aemon could have Caraxes one day. That would mean his Kepa was gone like Muna and Grandfather which was not something Aemon would entertain. So it had been in Aemon's dreams and in his dreams alone that he felt the wind in his face as he soared through the sky on a dragon. Dreams that had grown ever stranger since his Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys had gone to join Gamma, Grandfather, Aunt Gael, and his Muña where only dragons and those they loved were allowed to tread.
Aemon dreamt of great sadness and a feeling of being alone and unwanted. Aemon had at first thought it to be himself he was dreaming of, only to quickly realize it could not be so. For his Kepa, his Nuncle, and Muña Aemma along with Nyra had never left Aemon in any doubt about just how wanted he truly was. Yet the dreams kept coming and among them, Aemon swore he could hear a voice call out. A voice that bid Aemon come to him, to be with him, to join with him, and to fly with him.
Aemon had thought it to be his own wishes and nothing more. For Aemon wished for a dragon more than anything else in the world. Had it not been for Nyra and what she said when they sat in the Dragonpit and watched as Vermithor had let loose his flames over Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys' pyre he'd think it still. The bronze dragon had looked at him, she said. Vermithor had been watching Aemon as he listened to Nyra speak. When looked at the pyre, Aemon believed he saw it too.
"I told you, Aems," Nyra said.
"And you're always right, Nyra," Aemon said with a sarcastic tone.
"I am," she said determinedly, hiding the giggle Aemon knew Nyra wished to make because they both knew this was not the place for such a thing.
At the feast, Aemon heard it when he was awake. The voice called for Aemon to come, and almost demanded him to do so. Aemon tried to ignore it so he could pay attention to those who came to say goodbye to Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys and to see Nuncle Vis named the new king. Aemon had tried to get lost in the games that he and Nyra had played when the feast itself grew boring. Yet when the time when they would be sent to their bed came closer, Aemon had not been able to. The voice was so loud and the need he felt from it was one he soon shared.
"Māzigon zaldrītsos, māzigon naejot nyke." (Come little dragon, come to me.)
So after Aemon said goodnight to Nyra and Kepa had made sure he was in bed, Aemon waited as long as he could. Aemon waited until it would seem as if he was asleep, so no one would come to check up on him. Then Aemon rose from his bed, dressed, and tied his small little knife to his belt just in case. He snuck out using the hidden door that Kepa had shown him, then he scurried through the dark passages as he made his way to one of the lower floors.
Aemon hid in the shadows while he almost felt as if he was being guided away from the guards. The voice in his head told him "Now." or "Wait." and Aemon listened to it. Aemon soon was out of the Red Keep and in the streets themselves. More than once he needed to run and hide in a doorway when a man of the City Watch walked his way. Once or twice, Aemon took his knife from his belt when he saw people whom he felt wary of.
By the time Aemon reached the Dragonpit, he was tired and hungry. It was here that Aemon knew he needed to be most alert. The Dragonkeepers were ever watchful so once again hearing the voice in his head, Aemon did as he was bid. Before Aemon knew it he was walking to the scorch mark that was all that remained of Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys' pyre, and to the bronze dragon whose eyes looked at him each step of the way. When Aemon reached Vermithor he looked deep into the dragon's eyes and Aemon saw it then. It was Vermithor who was sad and lonely, so Aemon told him that he had no need to be either ever again.
Nyke'll māzigon ūndegon ao tolī. Skori Nyra māzigon naejot Syrax, nyke'll māzigon naejot ao." (I'll come see you more. When Nyra comes to see Syrax, I'll come to see you.) he said as he reached out to touch the bronze dragon.
Aemon was stunned when the wing was spread out as Vermithor looked directly into his eyes. Aemon could barely say the words for he knew what the gesture meant having seen Caraxes do so for Kepa more than once. Aemon had to be sure, so he asked the dragon before he moved to climb up its offered wing.
"Ao jaelagon īlva naejot sōvegon hēnkirī, Vermithor?" (You wish us to fly together, Vermithor?) Aemon asked, and felt the wave of warm air hit his face. It was almost a nod of the bronze dragon's head then was more than enough to have Aemon run to the offered wing.
Aemon climbed up it with no real difficulty and yet was confused when he saw that there was no saddle. Still, Aemon moved up closer to the front of the dragon and eventually found a space between two of its horns. As Aemon sat in that space he felt himself to be as secure as if he was in a saddle atop a horse and once he gripped onto the horn, he bid Vermithor take to the sky.
"Sōvegon."
It was nothing like his dreams, not even close. The feeling as the bronze dragon beat its wings and took to the sky was unlike any Aemon had ever known before. Not even flying with his Kepa on Caraxes came close to this and the smile Aemon wore on his face was as true as it had ever been. They flew over the Dragonpit as the sight of the Dragonkeepers below soon faded away while Aemon looked only to the other newer sights he was presented with.
Aemon flew by the Red Keep as he wished Nyra could see him now. Soon they were flying over Blackwater Bay, and other than some small lights on some of the ships and the moon shining high in the sky above them, everything looked black and dark below them. There was a beauty in the darkness though and the more they flew over it, the more Aemon came to enjoy that beauty. Aemon was so overjoyed that even when he started feeling uncomfortable he refused to ask Vermithor to take him back to the Dragonpit.
Aemon was not alone in his happiness, because Vermithor welcomed having a rider on his back once more. It had been far too long since Vermithor and Great-Grandfather Jaehaerys had flown together. Aemon's words that they would fly often were ones most welcomed by the Bronze Fury. Eventually, the day began to break and Aemon began to worry about being able to sneak back into the Red Keep unnoticed. So Aemon bid Vermithor fly back to the Dragonpit, and once he did so they landed. Aemon hurried to climb down off his back and to thank the dragon for allowing him the honor of being his rider.
"Kirimvose, Vermithor, ao'll daor regret ziry. Nyke kivio." (Thank you, Vermithor. You'll not regret it. I promise.).
The sound of the trill and the look in Vermithor's eyes soon had Aemon forget his reason for hurrying back to the Dragonpit. Aemon barely heard the Dragonkeepers as they moved towards him, and heard the loud angered roar that Vermithor made in their direction. Aemon lay down on the ground so he was facing the bronze dragon's head. Aemon told Vermithor to be at peace and swore that he would be a worthy rider to him.
Aemon did not know when his Kepa had arrived, but he knew it without turning his head to see it for himself. Aemon did turn to offer up an explanation when he began to worry that his Kepa would be angry with him for sneaking out of the Red Keep.
"Vermithor was sad, Kepa. He is not anymore though," he said, as he touched the bronze dragon, whose trill let everyone know that Aemon spoke the truth.
"He is not, is he?" Kepa said.
"No, Kepa, he's not," Aemon said determinedly.
"Say your goodbyes Aemon," Daemon said. "You'll need some rest before the day is to truly begin. No doubt you have a tale you wish to share with your cousin."
"Nyra," Aemon said as he rose to his feet. Aemon moved to Vermithor to tell him that he would come back and see him later today.
As Aemon walked with his Kepa and Ser Steffon, he barely heard a word that either said, his attention was still focused on Vermithor as the bronze dragon finally went to its lair to seek its own rest. Kepa surprised Aemon quickly scooping him off the ground and placing him on his shoulders. Something that his Kepa liked to call 'riding the dragon.'
It was only as he was being put into his bed that Aemon heard his Kepa say that he needed to get measured for a saddle for when next he and Vermithor flew together.
"For true, Kepa? You are not mad at me?" he asked worriedly. Kepa rarely got angry with Aemon, even when he was being mischievous, but he had never worried him like he may have done this time.
"I am furious with you." Kepa began. "You will be punished for sneaking out of the Red Keep and making me worry so," Kepa said and Aemon shuddered. "But I am proud of you too, Aemon. More proud than you can ever know." He felt Kepa's kiss on his forehead and was asleep before he left the room.
Aemon did not dream while he rested. For what dream could beat the night he just had?
King's Landing 103 AC.
Rhaenyra Targaryen.
Rhaenyra hated him. No, she did not, but Rhaenyra wanted to hate Aems. Aems got to fly before her, and while Rhaenyra was happy that Aems had a dragon now too, she had wanted them to do so together. It made Rhaenyra even keener to fly on Syrax, but she knew she could not yet. In Rhaenyra's head and heart, she knew it was not yet time, but that time was drawing ever closer. So Nyra got her cousin to agree to some conditions, reluctant though he was.
"Conditions?" Aems asked her as they sat in her room.
"A pact," Nyra said.
"A pact?" he said as he looked at her warily.
"Until Syrax and I fly, you are not to fly without me," she said determinedly in her most serious expression to let him know she meant what she said.
"But that's not fair!" Aems exclaimed. "You and Syrax won't fly until the year has ended."
"We won't?" she asked, as she wondered how Aems knew such a thing. Which made Rhaenyra forget what her mission had been here today.
"Not until the second moon of the new year," Aems said as she looked at him confused.
"How?" Nyra asked.
"Vermithor told me," Aems said.
"He told you? You hear him?" Nyra inquired.
"I dream of him," Aems said without looking at her, before he sat up more straight, and looked her in the eye. "I can not wait until then. Not even for you, Nyra. Vermithor would not be pleased."
Rhaenyra tried not to giggle, she really did, but when Aems was being serious he got this little crease between his brow that looked like an upside-down smile and it always made her laugh.
"NYRA!" he exclaimed. So she did her best to stop laughing, eventually succeeding.
"It's not fair you can fly without me, Aems." she sighed.
Aems moved from where he was and sat down on her bed beside her. His hand reached out to take hers and she knew Aems had come to a decision. It was always this way. When Nyra wished to play a game that he did not, or when they would argue and Aems would deny her. Then he would either give in, which meant he sat where he was and would say, "Very Well" or he would move to offer her a compromise.
"I will only fly with him once a week alone." Aems began, and Nyra waited for him to continue. "And I will speak to Kepa to see if I can get him to fly with me at other times."
"With me too?" she asked as she looked at him eagerly.
"With you too," he said and she hugged him as she thanked him.
With that, it had been decided and yet Nyra could not wait for the time to come when it would be just them with no need for Nuncle Daemon. Not that Rhaenyra did not love her Nuncle or had not enjoyed it when he took her up on Caraxes' back at Aems' behest. It was just that she wished to know what it felt like to be the one in charge. To be the one who decided not only the destination of the flight but the length of it too.
They soon grew bored as they just sat in the room because of the rain outside, and they were done with their lessons. So it was to her mother's room that they made their way. No matter how busy Rhaenyra's mother was, she always made time for Nyra and Aems. For the past few days, it had been her father's crowning that had taken up everyone's time, especially her mother's, Rhaenyra thought with not a little bitterness. Nyra did wish her father to be king, but it simply made everyone so busy all the time.
"Is mama inside, Ser Erryk?" she asked when they reached the door.
"She is, and alone, princess." The Knight replied.
"Come Aems," she said when she noticed her cousin looking forlornly out the window at the rain.
Her mother was pleased to see them, and soon enough Aems was helping her as much as he could. Rhaenyra hindered more than she helped, or so her mother chided her. When Lady Alicent came into the room, Nyra moved to speak to her. That left Aems to help her mother with the fabrics. The sight of him acting as her mother's fetcher and carrier was one that amused Nyra greatly.
Rhaenyra liked Alicent as she spoke to her as if she was just a girl and not a princess. Aems had said though that Lady Alicent was too familiar. Her cousin could at times be awkward around the older girl and had Rhaenyra not heard her parents speaking about Nuncle Daemon and Ser Otto then she would have wondered why that was. Her Nuncle and Alicent's father disliked each other though, and Rhaenyra believed that Aems misliked Alicent because of it. Alicent on the other hand had never shown she felt the same way about her cousin, which had made Nyra like the older girl that little bit more.
"Are you all set for the coronation, Princess?" Alicent asked as Rhaenyra sat beside her on the small couch.
"Almost. Mother says my dress is nearly done."Rhaenyra said.
"And you are looking forward to seeing your father crowned?" Alicent asked and Rhaenyra nodded. She wished it to be over and done with after all.
They spoke about going on a ride in a few days, and one that Rhaenyra had mixed feelings about. It was to be just a ladies' trip, and that meant Aems would not be coming with her. After the pact she made Aems agree to, it made Rhaenyra wonder if she should not make some excuse to get out of it. Yet Rhaenyra wished to go, and she knew she would. She knew Aems, he would not feel bad that she did. Besides, Nyra still owed him for going to the Dragonpit without her.
"You two need to get ready for dinner." Mother began. "Aemon, I am sure your father will wish to see you, and as for you my little dragon princess." her mother said as she tried to grab her. Rhaenyra hid behind Alicent while Aems blocked her escape like the traitor he was.
"No Mother, NO!" she exclaimed as she was grabbed and tickled.
She barely heard Aems say goodbye, and by the time she stopped laughing from her tickling, her cousin had left the room. That night at dinner Aems sat with his father, and it was not until they made their way back to their rooms that she got to speak to him about the upcoming ride.
"Aems, I…" Rhaenyra began.
"Nyra?" Aems asked.
"I'll be going riding with Lady Alicent and some…" Rhaenyra tried to start again before Aems interrupted.
"Muña Aemma told me. I am not invited." her cousin said, and for a moment she thought he was upset with her, and then she caught his little smirk.
"I hate you, Aems," she said, pretending to be appalled.
"I hate you too, Nyra," he replied before they both giggled and said their goodnights to each other. Nyra could never hate him, nor he, her. Both of them knew that.
King's Landing 103 AC.
Viserys Targaryen.
Viserys has been king for less than a moon. Over the past week, the great and the good had come and sworn fealty to him. Already the crown felt heavy upon his head, along with the burdens that came with it. Burdens that Viserys at times felt ill-equipped to resolve. More than anything, it was the constant verbal sparring that was beginning to wear the new king down. Never more so did they wear Viserys thin than at the Small Council meetings. Viserys walked towards the Small Council chambers with Ser Ryam and Ser Richard Thorne behind him and already felt the headache come on.
Entering the chambers, Viserys found he was not the first to arrive. However, there was no sign of Daemon which may keep some of the arguments down. Ser Otto, Grandmaester Runciter, Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord Lyman Beesbury who was serving as his Master of Laws until a more suitable one could be appointed and who still sat in what had been his old seat of Master of Coin were all already present. Viserys was beginning to wonder if he should have gone with his gut and named Daemon to one and allowed Lyman to remain in his old post. They still had to officially appoint a Master of Whisperers. Viserys looked at Corlys and hoped the Sea Snake would forget his anger over Rhaenys' being passed over for him, but Viserys understood it may not come to pass. Once he and Ser Ryam sat down, the meeting then began.
"The Lords were most pleased with the coronation, your grace, though some were perturbed to have to wait until next year for the tourney of accession." Ser Otto began with one of his oft-spoken complaints, Viserys wondered when the next one regarding his nephew was to raise its head.
"I will not dance on my grandfather's corpse, Ser Otto, as I have already stated," Viserys said in a calm tone.
"It would not be seen as such, your grace." Lord Lyman said, irritating Viserys.
"And what of how it feels, Lord Beesbury?" Viserys retorted to a chastised-looking lord. "We shall proceed as planned and have the tourney at Maidenpool next year. Would anyone else like to question my wishes?" receiving no reply the meeting went quiet compared to normal with Daemon absent.
"I wish to bring up the Stepstones, your grace." Viserys could not help but notice how rough Corlys said 'your grace', but Viserys chose to ignore it getting to business.
"Please continue Lord Velaryon," Viserys said.
"It has occurred that trouble is beginning to stir in the region with the Free Cities increasing their prices for the tolls in the area. Many Houses like mine that rely on maritime trade are beginning to worry and would like to know if the crown has any plans to deal with this issue." Corlys explained.
"Has there been any other trouble?" Viserys asked.
"Not yet, your grace," Corlys answered.
"Then I see no reason to start a conflict with the free cities over a toll," Viserys said in a tone that signified he wished to continue this conversation no longer.
For the next hour, they spoke of mundane things or things that at least felt mundane to him. Coin, appointments that were still to be made. Candidates for Master of Whisperers was by far the most exciting and challenging. Viserys felt his headache actually begin to fade and looked at the door multiple times to see if Daemon would enter. Viserys felt almost sure that he would get out of this meeting without being aggravated. Alas, the gods are cruel and it was not to be.
"Prince Aemon, your grace." Ser Otto began.
"What of my nephew?" he snapped back, knowing full well the arguments that were about to be raised. This was a topic Viserys could not even pretend to be balanced on. Viserys practically loved the boy as if he were his own son and not just his brother's heir.
"People speak of his claiming of Vermithor, your grace." Ser Otto began. "Tales and songs of how he snuck past all the guards both here and at the Dragonpit. Stories of how he managed to bond not just with a dragon, but with the Conciliator's dragon." Ser Otto paused. "Some say it's a sign from the Seven who are One, that the Old King himself has shown his favor."
"And what if he has?" he asked, pretending to act uninterestedly. In truth though Viserys looked at everyone's faces and their eyes. Out of all of them, Ser Otto and Corlys were definitely the most interested. No doubt the Sea Snake smells blood in the water and another chance to climb further.
"Without any sons that leaves Prince Daemon as your heir, your grace." Ser Otto began carefully. "And gods forbid any more tragedy strike your family, but should anything happen to Prince Daemon or not, that means as the succession currently stands then it eventually would fall to Prince Aemon to sit on the Iron Throne." Ser Otto said carefully.
"With my own daughter by his side, Ser Otto," Viserys said anger slipping into his voice.
"Indeed, your grace. Yet not of your line." his Hand said ominously.
"There are many years yet until the succession will even be an issue, Ser Otto." Ser Ryam said. "His grace and her grace are young and in all likelihood, a son will be born, rendering your point moot." Ser Ryam said and Viserys welcomed his intervention. The last thing Viserys wanted was more talk of members of his family dying.
"If the gods are good, Ser Ryam. We however know how cruel they can be sometimes." Ser Otto began. "We know plague and war tend not to discern between the lowest of commoners and the greatest of Kings." Again another ominous statement from the Hand of the King.
Viserys allowed the argument to take place between his Hand and the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard. Runciter and Beesbury truly took no part or side in it and with Daemon not here it was at least a civil argument. Corlys was by far the most surprising as he just sat quietly staying out of it altogether.
Viserys knew full well what Aemon's claiming of Vermithor signified, but he cared not. Aemon was not his father, and his personality was much different than that of Daemon's. In many ways, Aemon had even calmed some of Daemon's worst impulses.
Viserys was as worried as any when Aemon had disappeared that night and was just as proud as Daemon was when he found out Aemon had claimed Vermithor. Viserys remembered how Aemma had held the boy tightly and how upset Rhaenyra had been when Aemon's egg had grown cold. Aemon never showed tears though. Viserys could not tell if it was his father's teachings or the boy's nature but Aemon never showed tears to anyone. Viserys knew just how important it was to have another Dragonrider in their House, and given that said Dragonrider would one day be wed to his daughter, only all the better. So lost was Viserys in those thoughts that he did not notice when Daemon arrived and had the voices not suddenly been raised up then Viserys probably would not have for some time.
"My son will wed my niece, Ser Otto. As my grandmother decreed." he heard Daemon say loudly.
"I was only…" Ser Otto tried to defend himself.
"And who would you see as a more suitable bride for my son? Your own daughter mayhap? You'd name her an equal to a princess of House Targaryen, would you? For you'd find you're very much mistaken and that I'd not waste my son on such a lesser woman."
Viserys noticed that Daemon was about to start on Corlys, and Viserys knew he had to stop Daemon before he started a war of words that could lead to one very much not.
"ENOUGH!" Viserys shouted as Otto looked ready to rise and Daemon wore a smirk on his face while he took his seat, seeming all too pleased with himself. "The betrothal between my daughter and my nephew is not a topic for discussion. Daemon is right, for I too have no desire to go against our grandmother's wishes. Now let us stop this before words are spoken that cannot be taken back."
"Your grace," Otto said with a bow of his head while Daemon just nodded at him. "Let's speak on the state of the treasury."
It soon turned out to be a pointless endeavor to bring up coin. Daemon had barely looked over the books and was it not for Lord Lyman, Viserys would have no idea how solvent or not they were. His grandfather had always kept a full treasury, however, so in this regard, they were well placed. With the headache now threatening to truly cause Viserys pain, he brought the meeting to an end. Viserys remained seated and bid his brother do likewise. Once the room was cleared Viserys turned to Daemon who had poured out two glasses of wine, one of which he handed to him.
"You must take your duties more seriously brother. What kept you today?" he asked as he took a swallow from the glass before placing his hands back on the table.
"Your daughter if you must know." Daemon started. "It seems she managed to convince my son that, other than once a week, any flight he took on Vermitor's back should be accompanied by her upon Caraxes. At least until Syrax is ready for her to mount her." Daemon said fondly.
"We will not be able to keep them from the sky." he chuckled as Daemon nodded his agreement "Ser Otto, Daemon."
"Is a cunt, brother." Daemon began in a way only Daemon could. "You know my feelings about the man. He strives for more than he has and would seek to use my son, your daughter, and most especially his own to reach for things he deserves not."
"He shall not get a betrothal from me, Daemon." Viserys tried to calm his brother. "I meant what I said, neither of us would wish to go against grandmother's order. Not only that but to have Rhaenyra and Aemon joined together would bring me much joy."
"As it would me, brother," Daemon said.
It was rare that they could speak so freely to one another. Rarer still when they could do so without one of them aggravating the other. Usually, when they did so it would be because of their children. Viserys wished to end amicably with his brother and avoid further headaches which caused them to part ways probably sooner than needed. Viserys walked from the room before he glanced back and saw how Daemon looked at the chair he had just vacated which made Viserys sigh. For as much as his brother had changed, some things never will.
Viserys' walk around the keep took him to his daughter's rooms with Ser Steffon on duty outside her door meaning she would be inside and more likely than not so to would be his nephew. Viserys walked inside and, as expected, the two of them sat on the floor engaged in some game. Rhaenyra led their play as she always seemed to do. An image Viserys enjoyed came to mind of them as older, wed, and with children of their own. Leaving them to their games, Viserys moved quietly to the door and continued on his stroll through the Red Keep. Viserys had no particular destination in mind and was soon lost in his thoughts again. Were it not for the young girl calling out to greet him, Viserys may have just walked for hours on end.
"Lady Alicent," Viserys said once he realized Lady Alicent spoke to him.
"Your Grace." Lady Alicent curtsied.
"I had not expected to see you about the halls," Viserys said.
"I find I enjoy the peace a walk brings, your grace," Alicent said.
"As do I, my lady." Viserys agreed as she smiled at him.
They spoke some about how Alicent's love for reading was one he shared and Viserys found he enjoyed the brief conversation. After bidding her farewell, Viserys changed the direction of his walk and made his way back to his chambers. For as much as Viserys may not have liked the words that Otto said, he had listened to them. Viserys may not have any problem with Aemon sitting on the Iron Throne with Rhaenyra by his side, but the thought of Daemon doing so had always given him pause. Now despite how little Viserys wished to ponder on it, it was all his mind could think about. Viserys though had faith as well that he would soon have a son to be his heir and all his worry would be for naught anyways.
A/N: A collaboration between my good friend SPH0015 and Myself. Up Next. We jump forward a couple of years to another year of great change in the House of the Dragon as Daemon crosses a line and Aemon and Rhaenyra's lives are changed for the worst.
