"House Velaryon's origins reach back to Old Valyria. More ancient than even House Targaryen, according to some texts. But, unlike the Targaryens, we were no Dragon Lords. For centuries my house had to scratch out an existence from the sea with grit and luck. When I ascended the Driftwood throne, I knew what I wanted, so I went out and seized it. Unlike every other lord of the realm, I can say I built my house's high seat with the strength of mine own back. I've always thought of you and I as having been made from the same cloth." Lord Corlys Velaryon said, his back straight and his voice proud as he sat across from Daemon in the hall of Driftmark.
The chamber was dark. The only light was the moonlight coming from the windows and the glow of firelight from the torches and massive fireplace. All around Daemon were trophies, skulls, and treasures plucked from Lord Corlys' many voyages and battles. While most lords could brag about their heritage and long lineages with little else to show for it, Lord Corlys Velaryon was one of the few who could say he'd built himself up, and earned his birthright. House Valaryon had always been powerful, with Valyrian blood and the Targaryen dynasty's favour, but never before had it reached such heights as when Corlys took the throne.
Through voyage after voyage, battle after bloody battle, the young lord made a name for himself, 'The Sea Snake,' the realm called him, for his prowess with his massive battle axe and sea savviness. Then, with his newfound wealth that surpassed even the Lannisters and Hightowers, he'd built his own keep, High Tide, where Daemon now sat, watching the Sea Snake with thoughtful, narrow eyes.
Finally, after he'd felt he'd left the Lord sitting long enough in his anticipation, he murmured, voice bored, "I wasn't aware you had a king for a brother."
Corlys didn't flinch at the barb; instead, he pushed forward, his voice filled with ardour, "We are both men who have had to cut out our own way through the world. We've been passed over too often."
Daemon's eyes narrowed at the reminder that he was simply the King's younger, useless brother to most of the realm. Hell, with the birth of his children and his renewed loyalty to Diana these past years, he could barely call himself the 'Rogue Prince' he once was. He'd tried to be the honourable, dutiful brother, and what had that gotten him and his family? Nothing. Nothing but ridicule from his brother's slithering cunt of a hand and the disappointment of his wife. Who had always seen the potential in him.
"Did you call me to Driftmark to remind me of my low-standing Lord Corlys? Or was there some other reason?" His voice was dark, with the promise of what he would do if the Lord of the Tides was wasting his time.
Lord Corlys paused for a moment before continuing, "You've heard of the troubles in the Stepstones." It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact. Of course, Daemon knew of all the potential threats to his family's kingdoms.
He shrugged, his voice falsely cavalier to not seem keen on whatever scheme the slighted lord had in mind. "Some Myrish prince is feeding Westerosi sailors to the crabs."
With impunity…
He didn't say the words they were both thinking. Viserys, in his endless race to please everyone, had refused to take action against the potential threat the Crab Feeder posed to the Narrow Sea and its shipping lanes.
Lord Corlys' eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists as he gritted out, "I have been petitioning the King to send my navy to the territory, but he's denied me."
Grabbing his wine, Daemon stood up, pacing towards the fireplace, his eyes down in contemplation, "That has never been my brother's strongest trait."
"What?"
"Being King." Daemon's words were cold, without inflection, but their meaning seemed to boost Corlys' courage, the lord leaning forward in his seat, eyes slightly crazed in his excitement.
"The Crab Feeder is backed by powerful entities within the Free Cities who wish to see Westeros weakened. And the King's failures have allowed him to accumulate strength. If those shipping lanes fall, my house will be crippled. I will not have Driftmark beggared while our King idles himself with feasts and balls and tourneys."
Daemon quickly cut the other lord off, his voice firm as he spat over his shoulder, still facing the fire, "I will speak of my brother as I wish; you will not."
Lord Corlys backtracked, "Waiting in the Stepstones is a chance for you to prove your worth to any who might yet doubt it. We are the realms' second sons, Daemon. Our worth is not given; it must be made."
Daemon's indigo eyes burned bright, reflecting the flames he stared into as he contemplated Corlys' proposal. Winning a war without his brother's help or permission would be a surefire way to prove his power and make any who thought to go against him and his family think twice, but it also risked alienating Viserys even further, in a time where their house needed to strange strong, together.
Taking a sip to bide time, he mulled over his options before asking, "What else do you propose?"
Corlys' eyes lit up with triumph as he declared, "You have two sons and a daughter; I have a son and a daughter. Let us join our houses, as well as our cause. We do not need a crown to be a force to be reckoned with."
Daemon snorted as he said, "You truly have learned nothing if you think Diana would let me sell off our children without her input. Especially for a few small islands in the middle of the Narrow Sea."
"Then bring her and my wife into the discussion. It is not only a few islands at risk. It is the future wealth of both of our houses, our children's potential inheritance we would be fighting for."
Daemon nodded once, and with the ringing of a bell, a man-servant came scurrying in, his eyes darting to Daemon with apprehension. "Yes, Milord?"
"Summon my wife and Lady Diana to the hall. We have much to discuss with them, urgently."
With a furtive nod, the lad was off, practically running to find their wives, no doubt gossiping and making their own secret plans without their husbands' input. For the next 20 minutes or so, the men busied themselves with discussing strategy, debating the best ways to take out the Crab Feeder and his men with the minimum loss of life.
Daemon would be lying if he said he gave a shit about the small folk, but he and his wife had built a reputation fighting for those who can't fight for themselves, and it wouldn't look good if word got out that he'd sacrificed his army for glory. Appearances were everything in the game Diana and him played, and they played to win.
By the time Diana and Rhaenys came strutting in, arm in arm, a united front against the men of the family, Daemon and Corlys had just finished discussing which houses might want to back their fight. Who was the most affected by the Crab Feeder and would want revenge? The most eastern houses in the Stormlands, for one, whose ships were being attacked and ransacked for goods, their sailors massacred.
"Husband," Diana drawled, looking peeved her and Rhaenys' time had been interrupted, "You summoned us?"
Clearing his throat, best not to piss her off too much before dropping the news that they'd be discussing betrothals sooner than planned, Daemon stepped forward with a beguiling smile, leading Diana to a seat brought in especially for her at his side. Lord Corlys did the same with Rhaenys. Neither wife was fooled by the act, going by their pinched mouths and narrowed eyes.
"Yes, love," Daemon murmured, taking Diana's clenched fist in his, rubbing at the tense digits to try and calm her nerves slightly, "Lord Corlys and I have been discussing the Stepstones and the recent events in King's Landing. And how both of our houses can benefit moving forward."
"Which is?"
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, cutting towards Corlys, who, to his credit, didn't back down from her lethal gaze but instead sat up and replied, "By smashing the Crab Feeder ourselves and allying ourselves even further through trade and… marriage."
"Marriage?" The word was cold, with almost no inflection, as Diana stared blankly back at the Sea Snake, "You mean to marry one of your children to one of mine?"
It was Daemon's turn to jump in, the prominent ticking of a blood vessel on Diana's temple making him nervous, "The children grew up together, Diana. We already know that they get along. Isn't that better than shipping them off to some lordling or maiden we don't know?'
Rhaenys voice was quiet and calm, "The children are close. But marriage changes everything."
"A betrothal period then," Lord Corlys compromised, "We wait until the Crab Feeder is defeated before making anything official. During this time, the woman and children can split their time between Driftmark and Dragonstone, getting to know one another better."
"And if things don't pan out?" Diana asked eyebrow raised, "What then?"
"Then we shake hands and uphold any trade deals we make along the way. We part as allies." Daemon said, nodding at Lord Corlys.
The room was silent as the women contemplated their husbands' proposals, their hearts heavy with the idea of losing their children, even to something as inevitable as marriage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rhaenys stood, her hand folded in front of her and said, "I would be honoured to welcome a member of House Targaryen into my family once more. To once again realign our houses and causes together through blood."
After only a brief hesitation, Diana stood and smiled as she said, "I find that most agreeable, good-cousin. Of course, we will need to discuss the details further, but I am confident in this action plan going forward."
** Line Break**
Diana couldn't help but pace as she looked across the Narrow Sea. It had been a month since their meeting with the Valaryons and today marked the day that Daemon and, to her horror, Aelyx would set sail to the Stepstones where Lord Corlys' fleet awaited them, their most recent attempts to regain the islands a massive failure, with many of their soldiers being crucified on the beach, left to be eaten alive by crabs. It was a cruel but effective way to decimate the enemy's morale, with Lord Corlys' soldiers being forced to listen to their comrades dying screams. Diana could give the Crab Feeder kudos for that.
Even now, Diana could only hold back tears as she heard the telltale sound of dragon roars and flapping wings down on the beach. But this time, she could not follow her husband; instead, she and her two youngest children would be left to hold Dragonstone and await word for what could be months, if not years, of fighting.
Daemon had assured her that he and Aelyx, with the help of Lord Corlys' men and Laenor Valaryon's dragon, would crush the Triarchy quickly and be home before the moon turned, but the pit in her stomach told Diana it would not be that easy.
A man did not earn the backing of the Free Cities without proving himself capable. His cruelty certainly knew no bounds. Who knew what else he was capable of?
A knock on her chamber door had her turning to see Yelena standing there, her eyes sad as she murmured, "They're waiting for you, milady."
Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Diana straightened her back and marched from the room and down the hall. Waiting for her were a vengeful-looking Alycia and a solemn-looking Daemion. Neither child had taken the news that their father and eldest brother would be leaving for war. Alycia had raged like the dragon she was, screeching that if Aelyx had to go, so should she, to protect her father and brother. Daemion, on the other hand, had seemingly taken after her with his sullen silences and quiet, desperate clinginess around Daemon and Aelyx.
Never before had Diana seen him so eager to train and spend hour sweating with his family in the till yard. She couldn't remember the last time she saw him sneaking away with a book to read. While Alycia had never worked harder or been more ferocious in her training, the number of squires her now thirteen-year-old had thrown to the dirt was baffling.
As the children followed her to the beach, Diana had to stifle a chuckle at Alycia's petulant pout and stomping feet. Her daughter was the apple of her father's eye; she wasn't used to being told no. Once they'd reached the beach's sandy shores, the children broke off, yelling their father's name and ignoring the cranky Craxes who hissed down at them, annoyed at their enthusiasm.
Vermithor, almost twice the size of the worm-like red dragon, seemed content to snooze the morning away while Aelyx packed his saddle with goods for the long flight to the Stepstones. As the young man dropped down to the beach, Diana marvelled at how crown he looked in his red and black Targaryen armour. His hair had been freshly shaved in preparation for the coming months of poor hygiene, and he'd only grown bulkier during his time on Dragonstone, free to train and fly to his heart's content away from court. He, like his sister, had celebrated a birthday recently; he was now fifteen, eligible to war according to most of the lords and their customs.
Wordlessly, she held out her arms to her firstborn, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek despite his advanced age. Once she was content with the level of smothering, she pulled away to put their foreheads together, "You listen to your father. He will be your commander out there. Be strong, be smart, come home."
"Yes, Mother," Aelyx murmured, accepting the advice and affection without complaint, showing just how nervous he really was despite his calm exterior. He was just a boy… being forced to become a man too early.
Pulling him into another hug, one hand on the back of his neck to keep him close, Diana looked over his shoulder to see a sobbing Alycia clinging to Daemon while Daemion was content to cling to his father's hand. Like Diana, Daemon was murmuring to them in High Valaryian, smothering them in affection.
It was only after a horn blew from the flagship that Daemon tenderly pulled away from a bereft Alycia and Daemion, kissing them both on the forehead before turning to Diana. Diana sniffled, threw away all forms of decorum and picked up her skirt to meet him in the middle. As soon as she was in arms reach, Daemon snatched her up and pulled her hard to his armoured chest and into a deep, angry kiss.
By the time they pulled away from each other, Diana's face was coated in tears, her finger clinging to the front of Daemon's armour to keep him close. She needn't have to; her husband held her just as tightly and didn't even deign the impatient ship captain a glance when he blew the horn again, warning of their imminent departure.
"Do. Not. Die." Diana growled, her throat thick with tears as she jerked him forward with every word.
"And leave you? No, my love. When I die, it will be in our bed, old and by your side." Daemon murmured, his voice raspy and eyes soft.
Realizing that if she didn't let him go now, she never would, Diana shoved him away. Reaching down, she pulled a sobbing Alycia and quietly crying Daemion to her side while she spat, "Go on, sooner you leave, the sooner you'll come back."
Daemon only nodded, used to his wife's moods, nudging a frowning Aelyx with his shoulder before spinning on his heel, climbing onto Caraxes back and taking off into the sky. Aelyx followed behind, the ever-dutiful son.
"Mama," Daemion murmured, shoving his tear-streaked face into her stomach, "When will they come back?"
"When they've slaughtered the triarchy, you idiot!" Alycia snarled, her emotions often making her lash out at those around her.
Diana simply ran her fingers through her daughter's silver curls in silence, reprimand and comfort while turning to a wide-eyed Daemion, "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yes, when the Triarchy is defeated, Father and Aelyx will come home."
"Father always wins," Alycia muttered, crossing her arms before she turned sharply on her heel and strode away towards the keep. A snarling Cannibal flew above her, looking for whatever had upset his rider.
"No, he doesn't," Daemion whispered, eyes wide and filled with foreboding, "He lost the tourney the day Auntie Aemma died…."
Diana frowned at the reminder; she tried not to remember that day for many reasons. With a lump in her throat and a hand on her son's shoulder, Diana marched on, trying to ignore how badly things could go for her family if this gamble didn't pay off. Daemon Targaryen might have been the 'Rogue Prince' and perhaps the greatest dragon rider to have ever lived, but he was still human. What would they do without him when he inevitably fell?