When The Dragonwolf Danced

by Alperez16

A collaborative effort between myself and my good friend, SPh0015. Jon Snow is born much earlier to a different prince of House Targaryen. Raised as Daemon Targaryen's son and betrothed to his cousin, Rhaenyra. How does his presence affect the Dance of Dragons and will he ever make sense of the dreams that hint at who he truly is?

3. The Green Wedding

King's Landing 106 AC.

Alicent Hightower.

Alicent looked at herself in the looking glass as she moved her fingers over her breasts, and sighed at the thoughts of the man her father wished for her to lay with. At just eight and ten namedays old Alicent was in the prime of her womanhood. Her body was as perfect as it would ever be with firm breasts, a slim tight waist, and a barely explored sex that longed to know more than the one man she had lain with or her own hands. Alicent believed she deserved the one man she knew who would bring her true pleasure and inflame her desire. As she closed her eyes, Alicent's hand moved between her legs and let her imagination bring her fantasy to life.

"My prince, my Rogue Prince," Alicent whispered as she touched herself and imagined it was a very different hand that was doing so.

The knock on the door stopped Alicent's pleasure from building to completion and she hurried to grab her shift while doing her very best to ignore the growing blush on her chest. Alicent bid whoever knocked to wait before she bid them enter after a few moments. It disappointed her that it was her handmaidens. She then spent the next close to an hour being readied for the day. Alicent soon wore her prettiest dress along with the barest amount of powder on her face. She was now once again ready to be paraded in front of the king as her father's prize broodmare.

Alicent had no issue with King Viserys as he was a good man as far as she ascertained. She even enjoyed the time they spent together. Well, a little anyway. It was different from the time Alicent spent with the Old King though and far less innocent. Even if to her mind it had started the same way.

"You must help the king in his grief, Alicent." Her father said. "It must be you that the king relies on to help him through this most troubling of times."

"Why me, father?" Alicent asked. "Surely his daughter or nephew would be better suited?"

"No, it cannot be them, nor anyone else." Her father said in a tone that left no argument. "You and you alone, Alicent."

Alicent had never been one to go against her father's wishes, and so Alicent had done as she was bid. They read books together, she helped him with his model of Old Valyria and walked through the Red Keep together. Alicent took more meals with King Viserys than she did with her own father, and over time she noticed that the king looked at her no longer as a young girl, but as a young woman.

When Alicent had told her father of her beliefs she saw a joy in her father's eyes that she did not like. Her father then encouraged her to wear more revealing dresses, nothing too scandalous of course, but Alicent now showed more skin than she ever had. This was approved of and brought her no great comfort either, at least not on the king's part. Alicent would be a liar if she said that the lust-filled eyes of Ser Criston did not send shivers down her spine. Alone in her bed at night, Alicent found herself imagining what Prince Daemon would see when he looked at her, the dangerous glint in his eye was present all the while. Prince Daemon was in exile though and had not been seen for moons, and it was now his far lesser brother whose eyes roamed Alicent's body instead.

Alicent cleared such thoughts from her head as she made her way through the halls and was soon at her father's chambers where they would break their fast together. As Alicent entered the room she was greeted with a smile and a kiss on her cheek by her father before she took her seat. Alicent hoped for a quiet meal, but one look at her father told her it was to be anything but. Alicent took a deep breath to resolve herself as she waited to find out what her latest failure had been. It was as it turned out not something she herself had done but others in court that had caused her father's ire.

"Lord Corlys is bringing his daughter to court." Her father said as he cut into a sausage before taking a small bite.

"Lady Laena?" Her father nodded. "I have not seen her in an age," Alicent said happily, not noticing her father's scowl.

"He intends to push for a betrothal between her and the king." Her father said as he continued eating. The anger and disgust in his words were clear for Alicent to hear.

"But she's so young," Alicent said, appalled.

"Indeed." Her father said with a tone that she knew meant he was plotting something. "She is but a girl, yet one who has no doubt already flowered."

"Surely his grace would not wed a girl of three and ten?" Alicent asked.

"Girls even younger have been wed as well you know." Her father answered.

Alicent had stopped eating her food and instead looked down at the table. House Velaryon was a powerful House that shared the blood of Valyria with House Targaryen, and Lord Corlys had been wroth when the Old King passed Princess Rhaenys over, which caused their rift to continue right up to the Old King's death. Ever since King Viserys had ascended to the Iron Throne Lord Corlys came back to take up a position on the Small Council.

A match would bring them closer, would tie their Houses together, and would benefit the realm.

As Alicent looked up from the table, it was clear that her father had watched her all the while. With the words on the tip of her tongue, Alicent readied to ask those questions that she considered, but only to stop herself from doing so.

"What must I do, father?" Alicent asked instead.

Later that day as Alicent walked in the gardens with the king, the quiet solace of their walk was broken by the sound of laughter. Alicent heard who made the sound, and she had no doubt that it would be in its direction that the king bid them walk. It did not take them long to find the source, and the smile that appeared on the king's face was a true one.

Prince Aemon and Princess Rhaenyra, along with some of the other children who resided in the Red Keep, were engaged in some game. Rhaenyra stood behind her cousin, while Aemon playfully fought off any boy or girl who tried to grab or touch the princess. How the two moved together, the frustration on the faces of some of the boys and girls, and the laughter that came from the princess, all showed just how successful they were or were not.

"No fair."

"You're too fast."

"And another one falls to Prince Aemon of House Targaryen," Rhaenyra called out in response to the two who were slapped away and had gone to stand with what was a growing number of annoyed boys and girls.

Beside Alicent, King Viserys chuckled and even Alicent herself wore a smile on her face at their antics. The rules of the game had somewhat become clear to her as it took place in front of them. To win you needed to place a hand on Princess Rhaenyra, but coming in from the back was not allowed as it was only from the front and then to the sides that your attack counted. Each time you tried to touch the princess, however, Aemon would slap your hand away and that was you out of the game.

In the end, the numbers proved too much and a young girl used a boy as a distraction to win the round. Alicent thought they would walk away once it was done, but King Viserys it seemed was rooted to the spot as the game began anew. This time it was the girl who won with a different young boy in front of her, and both Alicent and the king watched on as the Targaryens once again worked together.

"Every time." Alicent heard Rhaenyra call out as she touched the young girl's shoulder "Every single time," Rhaenyra added as she turned to smile at Aemon who took the hit to see her win.

"Your grace," Aemon said formally, forcing all eyes to turn to the king and Alicent.

"Well played nephew, and you too daughter." King Viserys said with a smile on his face.

"We won papa," Rhaenyra said, as she moved to offer her father her cheek to kiss.

"I saw." the king said, as he kissed her cheek.

"Lady Alicent." Prince Aemon said with a small bow of his head. He wore a smile, but his dark grey eyes showed no happiness when he saw her. Even though Aemon's eyes were a different colour than his father's, and Aemon's dark brown hair was not Prince Daemon's glorious silver, there was enough of his father in him to bring a smile to her face regardless of the lack of a true one on Aemon's.

Rhaenyra greeted her a little more friendly with a picture-perfect curtsy. The games though seemed to have come to an end when the children dispersed before Aemon then moved to whisper in Rhaenyra's ear.

"Time for dragons, papa," Rhaenyra said, smiled and then kissed her father's cheek.

"Indeed it is. Fly safely you two." the king replied just as warmly as they turned to walk away.

Alicent found her eyes drawn to Prince Aemon's own where once again found no joy or happiness in seeing the king or herself within them. It bothered Alicent more than she cared to admit, and even while the king waxed lyrical about his nephew and daughter, those grey eyes filled Alicent's thoughts for the rest of the day. However, it was the eyes of Prince Aemon's father, which came to Alicent in her dreams that night.

King's Landing 106 AC.

Viserys Targaryen.

Viserys had not thought to wed again as there was no need for him to do so, or so he believed anyway. It was clear that many on his Small Council wished for him to wed, yet Viserys himself did not wish to swear those vows again. In Rhaenyra, Viserys has an heir, and while he would not lie to himself and say he did not desire to be gifted a son, Viserys had somewhat reconciled himself to raising his only child. More than anything though it was the thoughts of Aemma and what Viserys was forced to do at the end of her life that gave him the most pause. It was not something Viserys wished to live through again, but if he was to be wed then a child was truly the only reason.

At what point Viserys realised he had feelings for Alicent was something he could not say for sure. Alicent's help through Viserys' grief had been invaluable as was the time they spent together. Which had become something he looked forward to. Other than the time spent with Rhaenyra or Aemon, the times that Viserys had with Alicent are what provided some soothing ease to his wounded heart. Still, Viserys would not have put her name forward nor even truly considered it were it not for the suggestion that Lord Corlys made. The idea of being wed to a young girl such as Laena Velaryon was not something Viserys truly considered.

"I propose a match, your grace." Lord Corlys said. "Between your House and mine."

"My daughter will wed my nephew, Lord Corlys, my mind is set on that," Viserys responded.

"I was not speaking of Rhaenyra, your grace." Lord Corlys clarified.

Viserys looked at the man, surely he was not suggesting Daemon, he thought.

"A king needs a wife and none are more suited or bring more to a match than my own daughter Laena." Lord Corlys stated leaving the proposal open in the air for all of the Small Council to hear.

"I.." Viserys was stumped and could not continue.

"A worthy match, your grace." Lord Beesbury said. "It has much merit and would no doubt be a boon for the realm."

"Indeed, a joining of the two great House of Valyrian descent is one that would be most welcomed." Grandmaester Runciter added.

"Mayhap we need to give his grace a moment," Otto said, as he stopped any further talk which Viserys was most grateful for.

Viserys agreed only to meet the girl and tried not to allow the fact that Laena arrived in King's Landing on Vhagar to sway his opinion. Three and ten years old, freshly flowered, a woman grown by all measures, and yet to Viserys' eyes Laena was still a girl. There was no doubt she was a beauty and would grow into an even more beautiful young woman. Yet she was still a girl, tall and willowy with a girlish figure instead of a woman, and the slightly pudgy cheeks of a still growing woman rather than the chiselled ones that filled Viserys thoughts.

Her silver-gold hair was a sight to behold as she bore herself well, but she was not truly ladylike. While to Viserys' eye; she was a lesser lady than one he knew. They spent some time together as they walked, talked, and while Laena was very pleasant she was not the woman that dominated Viserys' thoughts. Viserys was finally given some reverie to eat alone which gave him the peace he needed from the leeches that wished to know his each and every thought. It was as Viserys was eating said meal when Alicent came to his room to join him. Then over the course of the discussion that they had together that his mind was made up.

"My small council wishes me to wed again." Viserys began.

"So soon?" Alicent said and Viserys offered her a warm smile for being the first to bring that up.

"A king's duty, Lady Alicent," Viserys said. "Do not let anyone fool you into thinking that the man who wears the crown makes all the choices, would that it was so." he sighed.

"Do they have someone in mind, your grace?" Alicent asked in a sweet tone.

"Lady Laena of House Velaryon." Viserys answered before there was silence for some movements before Alicent spoke again.

"A wise choice," Alicent said. "House Velaryon is a strong and noble House. A union with the crown makes both the crown and themselves stronger."

"It does," Viserys said.

"Yet surely your own wishes are just as important, your grace," Alicent said in an innocent but charming tone.

"My lady?" Viserys piqued.

"Your grief, your grace," Alicent replied. "Surely only you should decide when your grieving has come to an end and what end that leads to."

"If only things were that easy," Viserys said.

"A king's will may not trump his duty, your grace, but it is no small thing to ignore without consideration," Alicent said.

Those words cast the die into the field of court politics as it turned into a seed that waited to sprout. Viserys soon let that seed grow and bloom fully. When Viserys called the Small Council meeting in order to speak about his decision, however foolish as he was, Viserys had not given thought to how some would take that decision. Lord Corlys had not been pleased and though the Sea Snake did not outright resign as Master of Ships, he showed his displeasure by leaving the city. Viserys doubted Lord Corlys would be returning in time for the wedding either, but it was not the Sea Snake who was at the forefront of his thoughts ever since that fateful day. Instead, it was Rhaenyra who did not react well and whom Viserys forgot was even in the room as he spoke the words that named her mother's replacement.

"Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra. Speak to me, sweetling." Viserys said as he walked into her room while his daughter lay on her bed with a pillow that covered her face."

Rhaenyra moved from him when he touched her before Viserys heard an argument muffled behind the door.

"Get out of my fucking way!" Aemon yelled with more authority and gumption than any child should ever have.

Viserys was shocked as he turned to see his nephew brush past Ser Harrold and move to the bed.

"Nyra?" Aemon said and unlike Viserys' own touch, Aemon's was most welcomed, but Rhaenyra still refused to look at him.

"I…" Viserys was stumped speechless by the entire display he had just witnessed.

"She will be well in a few moments, your grace," Aemon said, and only that Viserys looked at his daughter or he would have seen his nephew glaring at him as he spoke.

"Thank you, Aemon," Viserys said. " Perhaps we can all eat together, later."

"Perhaps, your grace," Aemon replied with a distant tone.

It was weeks before Rhaenyra seemed any happier with his choice. Rhaenyra had even spoken to Alicent before she came around much to Alicent and Viserys' delight. As for Aemon, it was clear that his nephew was not best pleased with his choice of a wife either, but Viserys could understand that a little more. As anytime something upset Rhaenyra it was bound to upset Aemon too. Other than Corlys, no one really protested against this wedding. As the day drew ever nearer, Viserys found himself looking forward to it even more.

The great and the good came to celebrate his wedding. Especially with a tourney being held to honour the king's new wife. Aemon and Rhaenyra both seemed to come around to the match even more, and Viserys had no need to see how happy Ser Otto was. Alicent seemed nervous, which was to be expected of a woman in her position. As they got closer to the wedding, Viserys found himself questioning whether he should lift Daemon's exile and allow him to attend. Only the idea of Daemon and Ser Otto engaged in some battle of wills stopped Viserys from doing so.

When the day finally came Viserys awoke to break his fast with his daughter and his nephew. Viserys listened as they spoke not of the wedding but of some adventure that Rhaenyra had planned for her and Aemon to pull off. It brought a smile to Viserys' face along with the outfits that both children were wearing for the ceremony to come. Rhaenyra truly looked the Realm's Delight with her dress which was a scarlet red with small black designs that looked to be dragons. Aemon's clothing on the other hand was all black apart from a red tie in his hair. A gift that was given to him by Rhaenyra for his last Nameday. It was one that was well needed since his nephew's hair was shoulder length now.

"I want you both to enjoy yourselves today. So while you must stay until the dancing, you may leave any time afterwards that you wish." Viserys said as he finished his morning meal.

"We will stay, father," Rhaenyra said, offering him a small smile.

"Nyra wishes to dance, your grace," Aemon said with a smirk that earned him an elbow to his ribs, playful though it was.

"I do not. Pay him no mind father, as my cousin is a fool." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and was soon laughing loudly as Aemon puffed out his cheeks and stuck his tongue out at her.

Their antics brought a smile to his face and he nodded to them both as he left the room. Had Viserys stayed a moment longer he would have seen those smiles replaced by scowls and angered looks, but by then he was on his way to finish his own dressing for the day ahead.

The wedding ceremony went well, people cheered and Viserys was once again a husband. Alicent had looked like the Maiden herself as she stood there in her dress of ivory. There had been loud cheers as they addressed the people and even louder ones as they took their seats at the feast. Viserys had cared little for the pageantry though he understood the need for such and thought the over five and twenty courses served at the feast to be far too many. Alicent seemed happy though, and the guests certainly were.

When the time came for them to dance Viserys held his hand out and Alicent took it with a smile. After the first dance, they were joined on the floor by more than one other pairing, but his eyes quickly found the one he was looking for. As Aemon said, Rhaenyra wished to dance. So while Viserys led Alicent back to the High Table his eyes were on his daughter and nephew. Viserys would wager that he was not the only one either as they were quite a sight to behold. Their lessons had paid off and the smile upon Rhaenyra's face as Aemon spoke softly to her was one that filled Viserys' heart with joy.

"They look happy to be here, your grace," Alicent said as they took their seats.

"Viserys, we are wed now, perhaps we should dispense with titles," Viserys said.

"Viserys," Alicent said, and the way she said it sent his mind into thoughts of hearing her speak her name in a much different context.

"They do, do they not," Viserys said, as he turned his lascivious thoughts from his wife to happy ones about his daughter and nephew.

Viserys did not know when Rhaenyra and Aemon left, but he was relieved it came before the bedding. His laughter rang out as even being a king did not save him from having his clothing torn from him. Viserys found his new wife both receiving the same treatment, and the glimpses he saw of her naked body soon inflamed his desire for what was to come. By the time he made it to their room, Viserys was already fully erect when he saw her standing in front of him.

"Alicent," he said as he moved to her, and not even with Aemma had he been so keen to consummate his wedding night.

Driftmark 106 AC.

Corlys Velaryon.

The Sea Snake cut through the water like a knife through cheese. Corlys was the true master of the seas for many years, and his ship was the very best example of what could be achieved if someone focused their will on achieving their ambitions. Yet as Corlys stood on the deck while he looked north towards Driftmark and Dragonstone, he refused to turn his head to look south at King's Landing as it provided no comfort any longer.

Three times those bastards denied Corlys, and each time was harder for him to swallow the insult than before. First, they passed Rhaenys over for a far lesser dragon than his wife. Baelon the Brave, what a pompous name for a fool. Then when the fools did so again with that so-called Great Council passing over him twice in the same sitting. They denied my wife, now my children and all of it revolved around that fool Viserys. Corlys had been forced to accept that it would not be by right of blood nor claim that a child of his would sit on the Iron Throne, neither counted for much in the end. Instead, it would only be by a wedded alliance that he would get his due, but even that was to be denied to him.

It annoyed Corlys when the Good Queen had betrothed Daemon's son to Viserys' daughter, but he had seen the logic in how it combined both claims. Rhaenys' words were enough to stay his hand to forestall his anger, and Corlys doubted that would be enough this time.

"I have been shamed here this day and I will accept it no longer!" Corlys shouted as he rose to his feet. The feet of the chair made a loud screech as he stood.

"That was not my intent, Lord Corlys," Viserys said.

"Yet it was what you wrought, your grace," Corlys said. He would not completely scorch the earth this day. "You have forgone the chance to right the wrongs of the past and have named my daughter as lesser in the process." The anger laced every word. "It will not be forgotten."

"You dare threaten a king, Lord Corlys?" Otto said as he rose to his feet.

"I make no threats, Ser Otto," Corlys said. "I do not make threats that I have no intention of carrying out. Keep that in mind upstart."

Corlys knew he was foolish, and he should not have lost his temper so publicly nor so truly, but he could not help it. The damnable truth was that Corlys had been so certain that this time things would be different. There was no better match in all the realm than Laena. No one was more worthy than her for her name, her beauty, her character, and were that not enough, then her damn dragon should have been.

Laena claimed the mount of Visenya, the mount of Baelon the Brave, and it was as if the very gods themselves sent a message while the fool on the Iron Throne did not listen. Of the six Dragonriders in the realm, three were members of his house, Daemon was exiled, and the other two were claimed by children. To bring another closer to the Iron Throne, especially one as large as Vhagar would surely have been enough. Once again Corlys found himself denied with another member of his family shamed in the process. There would not be a fourth time, and of that Corlys was certain.

Driftmark came into view for true as Corlys readied himself to speak to his wife. It took another hour for them to dock and then two for him to make his way to High Tide. As Corlys entered the keep, he barely acknowledged Laenor when he was greeted as Corlys' mind was elsewhere. Corlys practically stormed into his hall of treasures before he took his seat on the Driftwood Throne. As Corlys stewed, he looked around the hall at the various things he had gathered over the years. Nine great voyages he undertook and each of them had helped his House grow in wealth and power.

"Perhaps it is time for a tenth," Corlys simmered as his mind turned to plans that he would no longer delay. It is time to bring a new player to this vile game of thrones.

As soon Corlys heard Rhaenys enter the hall it pulled him from his latest scheme. Rhaenys' footsteps were as loud as they were angered and Corlys welcomed the sound of his wife's rage.

"Alicent Hightower," Rhaenys said angrily and Corlys nodded.

"The man is a fool," Corlys said. "His dispute with his brother proves himself to be."

"Does Viserys not know nor care that his new bride knew his brother's cock before his own?" Rhaenys asked as Corlys looked at her, unsure if he heard her correctly.

"Daemon bedded the girl?" Corlys asked as he stepped down from the Driftwood Throne.

"Of course he did," Rhaenys answered. "Why else would Hightower hate Daemon so?"

"I had thought….Given what Daemon says about the man I had thought that to be the reason, but this…You're sure of this?" Corlys eventually asked.

"As sure as I can be without having been in the room itself," Rhaenys paused briefly, "but it matters not."

Corlys looked at Rhaenys with incredulity, as he believed that she could not suggest what he believed she was. Of course this mattered and if it was to get out that Alicent was not a maid then there could be no chance that the wedding could go forth. It would leave Viserys with no other choice but to take Laena as his bride.

"No, what you are plotting will not come to pass, husband mine," Rhaenys said.

"He will have no other choice," Corlys said.

"And what?" Rhaenys said "See our daughter as a second choice? Second best behind the daughter of a knight who holds no power without a pin or lands to his name?" Rhaenys said and Corlys stopped his thoughts as soon as she said those words.

Corlys would never allow anyone to think of a member of his House as second best. A part of Corlys still wished to see the words spoken, while an even darker part of him imagined Viserys' face as he made the request to him, only for it to be declined. If anything it may be better if word of Alicent being despoiled by Daemon came out long after Viserys and she were wed. Perhaps the shame of that would be enough to wipe the smug smile off Otto Hightower's face.

"Besides, we have other issues at hand," Rhaenys said as she handed him the letters.

Six more. Corlys lost over 100,000 gold dragons in cargo, ships, and men. Good men that served Corlys well for many years, and the situation made his meal that night lose all its flavour. Corlys and Rhaenys took pleasure in each other that night, but it was not enough to grant him a decent night's sleep. Instead, Corlys spent most of his night atop the parapets of High Tide as his eyes were drawn in the direction of Dragonstone. The plan Corlys put aside barely a year ago, now raised its head once more.

"Daemon Targaryen," Corlys said as the sun rose and dawn broke.

A week later.

Rhaenys and himself made the journey to Dragonstone, while Rhaenys flew on Meleys and Corlys sailed. Corlys knew it would take both of them to convince Daemon, and Rhaenys would actually do a better job than Corlys would. Rhaenys never truly liked Daemon, but she understood him far better than most.

As Corlys neared the island he contemplated what would happen should Daemon refuse, and the simple truth was that Corlys did not have the men to fight this war alone. Corlys could win any war at sea as the ships he could bring under his command along with his own skills would be enough to see that so. On land, it was a different matter entirely. For as skilled as Corlys was there was a reason they called him the Sea Snake.

No, for the land campaign Corlys needed someone to lead it. Corlys needed an army as well, and none would find the men required better than Daemon Targaryen. One only had to look at how Daemon managed to transform the City Watch, the newly dubbed Gold Cloaks, in the almost two years Daemon commanded them. A rabble of badly equipped, poorly trained, and disciplined men was now anything but. They would need that same determination to defeat the Triarchy and force them from the Stepstones. Just as much as they needed the Blood Wyrm to rain down fire on those they faced. Corlys heard a loud roar above and abandoned one set of thoughts for another as it would not only be Daemon's dragon Corlys needed in the battles to come. Corlys continued plotting as he watched Meleys fly ahead to Dragonstone.

"Rhaenys," he said, a soft smile on his face as he watched his wife fly from his sight in all her majestic glory.

It was a number of hours later when the Sea Snake docked and Corlys was happy to see Rhaenys waiting for him. There was no sign of Daemon which did not surprise Corlys in the least. The Rogue Prince was far too arrogant and cocky to greet anyone other than from atop the Dragonstone Throne. Corlys moved to his wife and offered her a kiss on the cheek as he took her arm in his. Together, along with their guards, they made their way through the village to the winding stairs. Both of them knew full well that Daemon was informed of their arrival and most likely watched them as they made their way to the keep.

Corlys was slightly out of breath by the time they reached the main doors, while Rhaenys looked as if she simply took a stroll along one of the beaches on Driftmark. Damned old knees will be the death of me. The guards allowed them to enter when they reached the hall, and Corlys was surprised by the number of men he saw on duty. Corlys looked at Rhaenys as it seemed there had to be thrice the number of men at arms than there usually would be. It made Corlys wonder if Daemon already worked on some plan and he was a little worried that the wayward prince had. For if so, then neither Corlys nor Rhaenys would be able to dissuade him to abandon that for the one they wished to present.

As they entered the hall the number of armed men became even more apparent. As did the fact that Corlys was right and Daemon now greeted them exactly as expected. Dressed mostly in black with barely a hint of red, Daemon wore an outfit that clearly showed the Rogue Prince's darkness of the past months. Dark Sister on his hip, Daemon Targaryen sat cross-legged on the Dragonstone Throne with a look that could only be described as uninterested. Corlys, with Rhaenys beside him, though, they could both see the keen way he looked at them. Almost how Meleys looked at her prey. The telltale signs that their visit intrigued him were clear in his expression, once you knew what to look for.

"Prince Daemon," Corlys said with a small polite bow of his head, while Rhaenys offered little in the way of greeting other than a smile.

"Lord Corlys. Cousin Rhaenys." Daemon began with a tone laced with arrogance. "It is always nice to see family when they decide to drop by. Dragonstone and its prince welcome you by the way." Daemon replied as cockily as ever, for he was no longer Dragonstone's prince.

"Expecting trouble, cousin?" Rhaenys asked and Daemon smirked.

"I thought you knew me better than that cousin Rhaenys." Daemon began. "I merely wish for some as it is so dreary here. So I hope you brought some as a gift since you missed my last nameday, cousin."

The pleasantries went on for a few more moments. If you could call them that. Speaking with Daemon is like pulling teeth while trying to avoid an asp. Corlys was far happier when they retired to the Chamber of the Painted Table. Wine and food were brought, and while neither he nor Rhaenys had much of an appetite, they did eat a little and welcomed the wine to wet their pallets. It was a poorer vintage than he was used to. No doubt something the Rogue Prince did on purpose.

"You must have heard about the wedding by now, I wager?" Corlys asked and Daemon snorted.

"You would think my brother could do better than the despoiled daughter of a grasping cunt." Daemon sneered, and Corlys had to resist the urge to look at Rhaenys and see her 'I told you so' expression. While Daemon did look angered, it seemed that disappointment was a truer emotion on his face.

"So it does not please you?" Rhaenys asked. "Cousin."

"No more than it does you, cousin, or am I mistaken in that Laena was not passed over," Daemon said.

It should not surprise Corlys that Daemon knew, but it did. A part of Corlys wondered now if it was spies or perhaps even Daemon's son who was Daemon's source of information. The truth was it did not matter that Daemon knew because he certainly did, which is why Corlys had not intended to hide his displeasure at Viserys from him.

"Your brother is a fool," Corlys said and Daemon's nostrils flared.

"My brother still, remember that when you speak of him," Daemon said with a hidden threat, and one Corlys definitely picked up on.

"Does he remember it, cousin?" Rhaenys said as Daemon glared at her.

"You are left to wilt here, Daemon. To fade away into insignificance. They rarely speak of you at court as Otto Hightower strolls around like the cat who got the cream." Corlys said as he watched Daemon's anger grow and was then directed where he wished it to be.

"It is time to rectify that, cousin," Rhaenys said. "Time for you to become as important as you deserved to be. Time for you to wear a crown all of your own."

As Rhaenys had said he would, Daemon grew ever angrier. Daemon did not come right out to name them traitors, but he was on the verge of doing so when Corlys finally stepped in once more.

"The Stepstones, Daemon. We speak of the Stepstones and the carving out of a kingdom of your own. Together we can force the Triarchy and their pirates from those islands and instead between us we shall rule them. Think of it, Daemon. A seat of your own that cannot be taken away at the whim of any man but yourself."

"A seat worthy to inherit," Rhaenys said and Corlys almost smiled when he saw the look on Daemon's face.

It was a look that told Corlys that they had won Daemon over, and one that Rhaenys confirmed to him when they left two days later. Daemon's own ambition may or may not have been enough to bring him to their side, but his ambition for his son certainly was. As the Sea Snake sailed back to Driftmark, Corlys looked to the skies once more, this time there were two dragons flying over his head. The sight was one Corlys welcomed and one that he knew those who held the Stepstones would soon very much not.

King's Landing 106 AC.

Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Rhaenyra smiled through the morning meal and cursed Aemon for not sharing it with her. It was not Aemon's fault, but it was the woman who now named herself Rhaenyra's stepmother. Alicent had wanted them to share a meal together with just Alicent, the king, and Rhaenyra. The king loved the idea so the night before Aemon had been informed that he would need to break his fast elsewhere this morning.

Rhaenyra sat with a plastered smile on her face as she listened to this woman, who is not nor would ever be her kin, told her that she had no intent to replace her mother. As if she could. Rhaenyra thought and did so somehow without a snort. Rhaenyra diverted her attention from Alicent to her father, and Rhaenyra found the soft smile on his face for the first time to be one that annoyed her greatly. He too had told her that he did not seek to replace her mother and that he wished for Rhaenyra and Alicent to just be friends. Just as Alicent was saying now.

"We can share things together, you and I, Rhaenyra," Alicent said. "Should there be anything that you wish to speak on. You know things that you may wish to tell only a woman, or that only a woman may know about. I am here for you."

"I thank you, your grace, truly," Rhaenyra said. "It means so much to hear you say so," Rhaenyra said, her smile never wavered as she silently thanked Aemon who had taught her how.

Aemon's smile was even more practised than Rhaenyra's and was worn more often since her Nuncle Daemon's exile. When Rhaenyra asked Aemon about it he happily told her his secret.

"I think of Vermithor, Nyra, of our times flying together, of our games, or something you may have said that makes me chuckle. Other times I think of my time with Kepa." Aemon explained.

"What if it is my own father who I am angered at?" Rhaenyra asked.

"Then think of your Muña and the times you enjoyed being with her," Aemon suggested.

"Sometimes they make me sad, Aems," Rhaenyra said softly as she welcomed the hug Aemon gave her and his soft whispers in her ear.

Now as Alicent prattled on, Rhaenyra ate her meal so she did not have to smile continuously. The memories of her mother, her flights on Syrax, and her adventures with Aemon were all that kept the smile on Rhaenyra's face. Thankfully the meal soon came to an end and there was no Small Council meeting for her to attend this morning. Rhaenyra rose to her feet as she bid Alicent goodbye and moved to offer her father a kiss on his cheek. Annoyed at him Rhaenyra may be but he was still her father and she loved him truly. Not something she could say about his new wife.

Rhaenyra wished to go to Aemon so they could go to the Dragonpit, but Rhaenyra had lessons she needed to attend first. The first of them was with the Grandmaester. It was one that gave Rhaenyra more insight into the great and not-so-great Houses of the realm. To Rhaenyra's dismay, the next lesson given to her by Septa Marlow was one that was attended by Alicent too. Throughout the lesson, Rhaenyra tried to concentrate on the lesson alone, but that was something that she struggled to do at the best of times. Once it was over, Rhaenyra found herself almost dragged to an embroidery lesson that she had no wish to attend.

"All ladies should know how to embroider, Rhaenyra. Your future husband will much appreciate something made by your own hand." Alicent said and Rhaenyra tried not to roll her eyes.

Aemon may very well appreciate something made by Rhaenyra as a gift, but Rhaenyra would not give Alicent even an inkling that she believed it so. Throughout the lesson, Alicent spoke to her and somehow Rhaenyra was able to keep up the mummery of enjoying their time together. When it was finally time to part, Rhaenyra very nearly gave the game away. Rhaenyra's eagerness to be elsewhere almost forced her to forgo any sense of politeness when they said their goodbyes. Rhaenyra did manage to cover it up well and explain it as enthusiasm to see her cousin and her dragon.

"Forgive my eagerness, your grace," Rhaenyra said. "I feel Syrax call and know full well that Aemon is most likely already there waiting for our flight."

"There is nothing to forgive, princess," Alicent said, her own smile may be even more practised than Rhaenyra's or perhaps it was even true. It does not matter either way.

There was some talk about the night's meal, some words were spoken on how much Alicent enjoyed the breaking of their fast that morning, and how the three of them should do so again which Rhaenyra barely managed not to glare at her for what she said. Then finally they parted and Rhaenyra went in search of her cousin.

Aemon was as ever in the sparring yard. Though he was with Ser Daeron and not Ser Criston. On the balcony a large group of people watched her cousin spar, but none of whom were recognizable to Rhaenyra. Truth be told, I could not care less who they are. Rhaenyra waited impatiently until Aemon and Ser Daeron moved to drink their water as Rhaenyra hurried down the stairs with Ser Steffon in tow.

"Aems," Rhaenyra said happily when she reached her cousin.

"Nyra," Aemon replied just as happily, she was pleased to note.

"Do you….have you more lessons?" Rhaenyra asked.

"No, I have been finished for some time. Shall we?" he asked as he offered his arm which she eagerly took.

They spoke little as they made their way to the Dragonpit and only in generalities about the day each of them had. Aemon had spent his morning much like hers, at lessons. Then he did his duty by Ser Criston's side before Aemon told her that he only sparred with Ser Daeron to kill time while he waited for her to join him. Rhaenyra knew that was only a half-truth. Aemon may have become a more practised liar since Nuncle Daemon was exiled, but he could never truly lie to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra knew Aemon sparred because that is what Aemon did. It was both something he very much enjoyed and wished to excel at. Sparring was also something that took his mind off anything he wished not to think about. Today Rhaenyra found out it was a letter from Nuncle Daemon that Aemon wished to put in the back of his mind. Rhaenyra only found that out after their flight though, and after she shared her own frustrations with her day.

Their dragons were brought to them within a few moments of their arrival at the Dragonpit. Rhaenyra and Aemon moved like mirror images of each other as they made their way to speak to their mounts. The sound of Vermithor's trills was almost drowned out in Rhaenyra's ears by the ones that came from Syrax as they moved to mount them. Then, in the blink of an eye, they were in the sky and the troubles of their daily lives drifted away.

That night at their evening meal, Rhaenyra sat wearing her plastered smile on her face once again. Alicent spoke to her father who laughed at something she said as Ser Otto sat with a smug look on his face. Each time Rhaenyra felt her annoyance and anger threaten to overwhelm her she felt Aemon's hand touch her own. Rhaenyra would turn to see Aemon looking at her concernedly, but it was only in his grey eyes that he showed that concern that only Rhaenyra could see. Aemon's reassurance allowed Rhaenyra to make it through the meal, and the words Aemon spoke to her when he escorted her back to her room allowed her dreams to be pleasant ones.

"We have each other, Nyra, always."

King's Landing 106 AC.

Aemon Targaryen.

The wedding was unbearable in Aemon's opinion. Aemon and Rhaenyra stood there with painted smiles on their faces while his uncle married a woman that they very much disliked. A woman who had no right to ever be called the queen. Aemon saw the look on Alicent Hightower's face, and it showed she cared not for his uncle. Not that Aemon himself particularly did at that point either, but Aemon at least had a reason to be angered with his uncle, Alicent did not.

Perhaps the King is a good lover? I highly doubt it. Perhaps Alicent is a seductress and used her wiles to seduce the King? Or is the King truly so blind?

This girl was a poor replacement for his aunt Aemma, which was something that preyed on Aemon's mind. Aemon's own dislike that she took rooms that once were occupied by a far better woman was only dwarfed by Rhaenyra's anger at her mother being replaced. Try as Aemon might, his anger could not be assuaged nor aimed at anyone else though. Not even as Aemon saw Otto Hightower's joyful expression as his daughter became queen could it turn that anger away from his uncle. Aemon struggled further to hide his anger towards the king and all the rats that now feasted around him.

Aemon spent even more time in the sparring yard, and his training was adapted as he grew a little. Ser Criston was a reluctant but hard taskmaster while Ser Daeron, and others, taught him as much as they could. None of them was a match for the lessons that Aemon had once taken with his father, but other than with Nyra or flying on Vermithor, the sparring yard was where Aemon relaxed most of all. Well, it had been until the king started to visit it more and more.

"Well done, nephew!" Viserys shouted out, as around him courtiers clapped because the king willed it so.

Aemon looked to the balcony as he offered his uncle another of his painted smiles before then turning back to the opponent in front of him. "There was only so much one could learn from their teachers" his father had told Aemon. The words Aemon's father said and wrote to him had over time become ingrained within Aemon's mind.

Aemon used spars with older squires, grown men, and new stances to further test his limits as he sharpened himself to become a great warrior like many Targaryens before him. Ser Criston spoke to his uncle on the balcony and no doubt talked up his own abilities in training his young squire. Aemon did not look to them, or even Ser Daeron who watched him spar even more eagerly, but to the boy in front of him. After Aemon beat the boy's younger brother quite easily, Martyn Stokeworth moved forward to avenge his brother's disgraceful loss. Taller and older than Aemon, the boy bore an angered look on his face as he did so. Aemon looked at the boy with a look that only could be described as predatory. His head may be tilted down but Aemon looked directly into his opponent's eyes with nothing but ice in his veins and fire in his eyes. Aemon had seen his father do it to sparring partners that Aemon knew his father particularly disliked. It had the effect Aemon had hoped of unsettling the boy even in his rage. Aemon began to remember some of his father's lessons as the two swords cracked together.

"Anger is not your friend, Aemon."

"Peace of mind and spirit will win you more battles than rage and wrath."

"Breathe, see what it is you wish to do, then do it. You are a dragon, Aemon, remember that always."

'I will have to call father out on this next time I see him and tell him how full of shit he is.' Aemon thought.

The blows aimed at Aemon were full of anger and rage. Aemon felt his own well within him, and a part of him wished to give into the feeling, to allow himself to be swept up in it. To channel his rage to batter his opponent into submission, but Aemon did not. Why waste good rage on a witless fop like this? Instead, Aemon took a breath and began to deflect the attacks aimed at him before, soon enough the elder boy was unbalanced by his own offence. Aemon's own offence then began to hit home, but it was not enough.

Aemon wanted to win, he willed himself to win, and the dragon in him demanded that he win. So win I will. Aemon moved as he deflected another violent strike aimed his way, but Aemon feinted a strike of his own as he then moved even more quickly. Before Martyn knew it, Aemon was almost behind him, and Aemon aimed the kick right at the back of Martyn's knee. Only that Aemon did so calmly, only that he was composed, or Martyn Stokeworth may have walked with a limp for the rest of his days. As it was, the kick only took him to the ground and Aemon then placed his sword at the back of Martyn's neck.

"Yield," he said with a voice that dared as much as it warned the moron to stay on the ground or the day would turn truly ugly.

"I yield, my prince," Martyn said, reluctantly though it may have been. The embarrassment at his loss was clear in his voice.

From the balcony, his uncle once again called out Aemon's name as the king praised him for his victory. The sound of the clapping that accompanied his uncle's words was loud, but Aemon found his eyes drawn to one face and one face only. Nyra had arrived sometime during the spar, but right now that was not what Aemon was focused on. Nyra wore a true smile on her face, a rare sight these days, and it quickly made Aemon's own smile appear. It was true enough that when Aemon looked at his uncle, there was no need for the painted smile to be brought to bear. Aemon moved to Martyn to make it seem like he cared for his well-being. Aemon was happy to see his uncle and the others leave, but not so much to see that Nyra left too, however.

"My prince." Ser Daeron said as he handed Aemon a mug of water that he drank down quickly.

"I had better return to my duties with Ser Criston," Aemon said. "Ser Daeron I bid you farewell."

"You will not leave the keep, my prince?" Ser Daeron asked.

"Not for some time," Aemon said. "I shall send for you should I change my mind."

"As you say, my prince." Ser Daeron said.

Aemon walked up the stairs and moved to where Ser Criston awaited. Ready for both the knight's own critique of his sparring and to set about his duties for the day.

"You fought well, my prince." Ser Criston said. "Though perhaps next time you could tone down your showmanship."

"Perhaps," Aemon replied noncommittally. Like he has the right to lecture me on showmanship.

"Now come forth, my prince. We are to shadow the queen today." Ser Criston said, his smile not one that Aemon joined in with.

The day was a dull one. Aemon found that far too many of his days in King's Landing turned out to be so. In the morning Aemon would take his lessons with the Grandmaester, and then it would be to the sparring yard to start his duties. Sometimes, in the afternoon usually, Nyra and he would take to the sky on their dragons. Then it would be dinner with his uncle and his new wife before Aemon could finally go to bed. True enough there were other things Aemon did too as he was an avid reader and would spend much time in the library.

Lately, Aemon began to spend more time in the city itself. Ser Daeron and his guards would accompany him when Aemon would visit the City Watch, his father's Gold Cloaks. However, some of them had been dismissed at Ser Otto's request.

At his father's behest, Aemon took some of those men into his own service whereupon they would teach him much about the city that he named his home. From the criminals who acted out in the open, to those who hid in the shadows, even those who held rank and favour, Aemon knew some if not all of them by now. Though he should not, Aemon sent men in his employ to help out where the Gold Cloaks would not. Aemon's father had been named the Prince of Flea Bottom by some, and Aemon wished for those who lived there not to forget him or his son.

"You may go, my prince. Our day is done." Ser Criston said and Aemon needed no second invitation.

To his dismay, he found that Nyra would not be able to join him on this flight. So Aemon sought out Ser Daeron before he made his way to the Dragonpit.

Aemon could hear the call of Syrax as Vermithor was brought to him while she remained in her lair. When Aemon saw his dragon, he noticed how his dark orange eyes sought out his usual flying companion before coming to rest on Aemon's face and looking at him somewhat confused.

"Sepār īlva, tubī, ñuha raqiros." (Just us today, my friend.) Aemon said as he stroked Vermithor between his eyes. The loud trill showed that while Vermithor may wish for company, he was more than happy to just have his own.

Aemon wished to fly over Blackwater Bay, but instead, Aemon bid Vermithor to fly over the city itself. They flew low enough over Flea Bottom so that all below could see them clearly, and from there it was to the city walls around them. To each of the gates and finally beyond them, and soon enough it was Rosby and Stokeworth before they turned back to fly over the Kingswood. As it had been since his father's exile, the call to fly to Dragonstone was hard for Aemon to resist. Only the thoughts that he may be allowed to visit for his Nameday were enough to stop Aemon from doing what he wished to do most of all.

Uncle Viserys forbade him leave to travel there so far. Not that he could stop me if I truly wanted, but even my father has told me to stay put for now. Aemon was denied every request, and eventually, he quit making them. A saying that brought a smile to his face as he turned for King's Landing to bring the day's flight to an end.

"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Aemon. Remember that well."

At times his father's words could be odd. They could be contradictory to things his father himself had done. Aemon had seen his father drunk and angry. He saw when his father would release the dragon upon those who both deserved it and some that probably did not. Aemon had seen the women his father brought to his bed and heard the noises they made behind the door. Aemon is not blind about who his father is, but that did not diminish the love he felt for him. Aemon just wished that sometimes he could understand his sire in why he would do things that he had told Aemon to avoid.

Ser Daeron once told him some of the reasons why that was. Father wished for me to learn from his own mistakes. More than that, he wished for Aemon to never repeat them. It was a strange thing, for as far as Aemon could see his father never made a mistake when it came to family. His father always supported him in whatever venture Aemon wished to pursue, and before he was exiled always made time for him whenever possible.

Uncle Viserys though. What kind of man exiles his brother? A useless fool that is who. In Aemon's mind, Viserys was a failure as a king, a brother, and a father. To Aemon's eyes all he saw when he saw his uncle was a traitor who sided with a grasping rat and his unworthy wench of a daughter.

After saying his goodbyes to Vermithor, Aemon rode back to the Red Keep to another dinner with Nyra, his uncle, and his new wife. Wench. A dinner that Aemon was annoyed to find was not to just be them alone. Aemon took his seat beside his cousin, who seemed both pleased to see him and annoyed that he got to fly while she had not. For the first time in so long, it was not Nyra who took most of his attention but Ser Otto and Aemon was, as always, revolted by the grasper's presence.

"My nephew is becoming quite the swordsman, Lord Hand. Is that not true, Aemon?" his uncle said, his warm smile answered by one less so when Aemon replied.

"I am coming along some, your grace," Aemon said the smile plastered on his face was as fake as a mummer's performance.

"See that, modest too." his uncle said with a chuckle.

"Indeed, your grace." Ser Otto began. "People speak of Prince Aemon as his father reborn in the yard, but to hear him downplay his talent they certainly would not," Otto said as Aemon did his best not to glare at the man.

"Did you enjoy your flight today, Aemon?" Alicent asked as Aemon felt Nyra tense beside him.

"Not as much as normal, your grace, since Vermithor and I missed our flying partner today," Aemon said while he caught Nyra's smile out of the corner of his eye.

"You will have to forgive me for that, Aemon," Alicent said as she feigned regret.

"Princess Rhaenyra and I were spending some time together."

"There is nothing to forgive, your grace," Aemon said. Two-faced siren.

On and on it went. Platitudes, talking without talking, wordplay that was somewhat beyond him, but some that was very much not. How his uncle did not pick up on it, Aemon knew not, but he had started to think that his uncle wilfully ignored certain things. When talk turned to the Stepstones, Aemon tried not to look very interested. He sat still as he hoped that his conversation with Nyra would allow for looser tongues. It did not.

All too soon they were sent to their beds, while Aemon enjoyed spending time alone with Nyra, Aemon wished they got to hear more of the conversation as his father's name was mentioned just as they left the room. Purposefully Aemon would have wagered, or would if he believed that Ser Otto credited him with much intelligence.

"I am sorry about today, Aems," Nyra said as they reached her room.

"You have no need to be sorry, Nyra," Aemon said. "But I missed you terribly."

"She made me spend it with her," Nyra said annoyed.

"Then we shall just have to fly for longer on the morrow," Aemon said with a chuckle.

"We shall," Nyra said as they said their goodbyes.

That was another thing that had changed since the wedding. Aemon's time with his cousin had become more limited whether it be his own lessons, squiring duties, or Nyra's own. More and more it felt as if they were being kept apart from each other. Do they mean to drive a wedge between us? As Aemon walked back to his room, he wondered if he should make mention of it when he next wrote to his father. Little did Aemon know just how soon that was to be.

"From Prince Daemon." Ser Daeron said as he handed Aemon the letter.

Aemon hurried to his room before he broke open the seal to read it quickly. Once Aemon did so, he then read it again far more carefully as he looked for the words inside the words. Soon Aemon found the message and he liked it not.

"I need to see him," Aemon said once he was done. "I need to go to Dragonstone before he leaves."

It was not to be. Not only was Aemon still banned from doing so, but the next letter that arrived did so within the week. That letter bore the news that his father had already left for the war he would fight in the Stepstones by the time the first letter arrived. The words that Nyra spoke to him about what was uttered during the Small Council meeting would have been enough to name it so. Aemon only hoped his own letter would reach his father, and that Ser Daeron would be proved right in saying that it would.

For the next few days, a new activity was added to Aemon's daily pursuits. One that he was sure would soon be spoken about, though he cared not. Each morning when he awoke, and the last thing he did every night, Aemon made his way to the Sept to light two candles. One to the Warrior to give his father the strength he needed to win the war he fought, and one to the Stranger to keep his cold fingers far away from Daemon Targaryen. Then each day, as Aemon flew on Vermithor's back, it took all he had not to bid the dragon fly south to seek out Caraxes so Aemon could bring his own flames to bear on those who sought to harm his father.

Dragonstone 106 AC.

Daemon Targaryen.

The offer that was made to Daemon intrigued him. A kingdom of my own. Daemon would not lie and say that he did not long for such, but it was what Corlys said about Aemon that truly raised his interest. My son has been denied what is rightfully his like myself all for some drunken words. Damn you Viserys. Aemon was to be king after him, not to be King Consort, but given the relationship that Aemon and Rhaenyra were forging, whichever of them wore the crown would always defer much to the other regardless. Daemon bristled over his son being removed from being heir as he did for his own removal, and Viserys punishing him through Aemon was not something Daemon expected of his brother. Were it not for his family's suffering, then Daemon may have actually been proud of Viserys for once.

Mark my words brother. If I cannot have what is rightfully mine then I will make sure my son sits on that accursed chair if it is the last fucking thing I do.

That Viserys did not break the betrothal had at least calmed some of Daemon's ire, but by keeping his son in King's Landing, Viserys crossed a line that Daemon would never forgive him for. The bonds of brotherhood had been almost shattered that day, but they were fully shattered by what had happened with Mysaria. Daemon still considered Viserys kin, but it was a far different relationship they would share from now on. Oh, brother mine what have you done? I hope it was worth it you fuck.

Daemon had stewed, grown bored, and sought out entertainment without actually seeking it out. It seemed the gods provided some mercy and he finally had some true entertainment handed to him. The chance for that and more. How generous Corlys. I know what you want though. I know what you will offer eventually. I hope you are clever enough to not even bother.

For Daemon was to wear a crown and forge a kingdom, then Aemon would inherit that kingdom one day. It could never be the same as the Iron Throne, but it would make up for it a little. More than that, it would stay Viserys' hand should he get any more foolish ideas regarding Aemon in the future. Should Viserys even dare to contemplate going against their grandmother's will, breaking the betrothal she had decided upon, then Viserys would be breaking a betrothal with the heir to the Stepstones. If that were to happen then there would not be a ship in Blackwater Bay to survive Daemon's wrath.

"For you, Aemon," Daemon said as he bid Caraxes to fly faster.

They left the Riverlands behind and Daemon could feel the cold air of the North as the Blood Wyrm flew over the Neck. All too soon they had passed Moat Cailin into the North itself. Try as he might, Daemon could not stop his thoughts from turning to Lyanna. The sting of the tears that fell from his eyes only matched the coolness as they turned to ice on his face. Though the night was falling, Daemon still remembered these lands well. From the rides over them that he had shared with the only woman who had ever won his heart or the flight they shared on Caraxes' back together. In no time at all, they flew past Cerwyn, and then the grey walls of Winterfell finally came into view.

"Tegun Caraxes." (Land Caraxes) he said and the Blood Wyrm did as he was bid.

After praising Caraxes for the quickness of the flight, Daemon watched the Blood Wyrm take to the sky once more before he then turned to walk in through the south gate. The guards looked at him warily, yet none made a move to stop him. Not a single one even made to greet him as Daemon strolled through the large open courtyard before finally, his Goodbrother Bennard made his way to acknowledge Daemon's presence.

"Prince Daemon," Bennard said gruffly. Wolf cunt.

"Lord Stark," Daemon said with his famous smile.

Daemon never truly got along with either of his Goodbrothers. Neither of them had approved of him and their sister, nor forgiven him for her loss. That Daemon was remiss in bringing Aemon to visit them had not helped their relationship much either. Without words, Daemon followed Bennard into the Great Keep and the Great Hall. There on the Throne of Winter sat Lord Rickon Stark, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, Goodbrother, and a man who liked Daemon as much as Daemon liked him back and he sat looking at him impassively. There was no true welcome. Some words were spoken and guest right was offered and accepted. Daemon had arrived just as the evening meal was being served and Lord Rickon bid him to take a seat at the high table.

The drink flowed as Daemon's eyes roamed the Great Hall while all the while his Goodbrothers watched his each and every move. To Daemon's surprise they made their way to bed before himself, but given Daemon had no memory of retiring for the night that really should not have surprised Daemon much. The warm body he found himself in bed with did not surprise Daemon either, though the prettiness of the young girl somewhat did.

After Daemon washed, dressed, and broke his fast he made his way to the lord's solar to find both Rickon and Bennard waiting for him. Daemon took the offered seat, welcomed the offered ale, and then drank it down before he made the offer on the business he wished to conduct. Only for some of Rickon's words to delay him from making that offer.

"I finally spoke to my nephew, no thanks to you," Rickon said annoyed. "A good lad, though he should not be in that pit of vipers you call a city."

"No, he should not." Daemon agreed.

"My brother and I wish him to foster in Winterfell," Bennard said.

"Would that he could. My son is not even allowed leave to visit Dragonstone. Let alone foster there with his own father." Daemon's words were as bitter as he felt.

"Aemon is a hostage? Your brother would dare do such a thing to my kin?" Rickon said angrily.

"No, Aemon is not a hostage." Daemon replied as he would not name him as such. "Other than for my own good behaviour," he added.

"Explain yourself, Daemon," Rickon demanded.

"Aemon is being denied leave to visit me because my brother knows what that means to me." Daemon explained. "Nothing else. As for fostering, the answer is no. My son is to sit on the Iron Throne one day, and his place is King's Landing."

"As a consort." Bennard sneered.

"You met my son, you say?" he asked Rickon who nodded. "Do you think he is the type to be ruled by anyone, let alone a woman?"

There was no reply, but Daemon did not need one.

"Aemon will be king." Daemon declared "Now as to why I am here."

Daemon flew away with little commitment. Some men but not as many as he wished for, but if he was honest it was more than he expected. It was not until Daemon left for Driftmark to firm up his plans, and ready the attack itself, that he was granted what he sought. Words that were spoken not by Corlys nor himself were the ones that had brought even more Northmen to his side. Instead, it had been words written by his son and sent to his uncle in Winterfell that had done so. Something that had made Daemon so incredibly proud of Aemon when he finally got his letter.

Daemon hated that he had denied his son leave to visit him. A small white lie but a lie that he had hated to tell Aemon all the same. Why Daemon did so, he at first did not know, but it had confounded him as the thoughts of seeing his son in the flesh were ones that had filled his days and nights on Dragonstone.

Had it been fear?

Worry?

Doubt or Concern?

A part of Daemon believed that he may lose his resolve were Aemon to bid him stay and not fight in a war of his choosing. That a plea from his son's lip would be one Daemon would not be able to ignore, but one he would anyway if only because this was all for Aemon. So it was better that he tell Aemon that he already left than to risk such, or so Daemon thought at the time. The closer it got to the actual war the less Daemon was sure he should. Though as Daemon landed outside High Tide all doubts were soon forgotten, and Daemon was once again full of nothing but resolve.

The fleet was gathered, and Daemon's army was to be collected. Make no mistake, this was Daemon's army that would fight this war. Second sons, sellswords, cutthroats, landless sons, hedge knights, and men of the North sent by his Goodbrother at Aemon's behest. What they lacked in numbers they more than made up for in their ferocity, planning, and the dragon that led them from the front.

"Both dragons," Daemon said with a chuckle as he entered the keep and made his way to meet with Corlys and Rhaenys to firm up their final plan of attack.

Daemon found Corlys and Rhaenys in their solar as the two of them looked over maps and reports from those they sent to spy on the first of the islands they would invade. Daemon took a seat that announced his presence as he reached out for the jug of wine on the table to pour himself a glass. As with most things in High Tide, the wine was the very best that coin could buy so Daemon sipped rather than gulping it down to satisfy his unquenchable thirst.

"Your Northmen are an interesting lot, Daemon," Rhaenys said as Corlys continued to look at the map in front of him

"Not mine, Aemon's," Daemon said proudly and caught the smirk that briefly appeared on Corlys' face.

"Yet they will follow you all the same," Rhaenys said.

"They will," Daemon confirmed.

"It brings our numbers up to close to three thousand on land and another thousand or more at sea," Corlys said as he handed Daemon a piece of parchment with numbers written on it.

"Seven to ten thousand, are you sure of these numbers?" Daemon asked.

"Most are based on Bloodstone from what I can gather," Corlys explained. "It and Torturer's Deep."

"Easier to supply from Tyrosh," Rhaenys added to Corlys' words.

Daemon rose to his feet as he finished his wine to look down at the map that was laid out on the table. All his instincts told him to attack Bloodstone first but something held him back. Some voice in Daemon's head told him that now was not the time to hit the largest of the islands. As Daemon looked at the map he began to think, not like himself but as if he were Corlys. Their own supplies would need to come from the sea so they would need a base as well as a safe route to travel there. Even then I doubt it will be very reliable to rely on supplies from the sea when we are fighting pirates.

Too close to Tyrosh put their convoys at much higher risk from the Triarchy's own as did sailing too close to Myr, and Dorne was no friend of theirs either. Daemon looked at Grey Gallows on the map, but even that island was fraught with difficulties. To reach it a ship would need to sail far too close to Bloodstone, and so once again Daemon turned his attention back to the largest island.

Daemon closed his eyes to listen once again to the voice that preached caution. It was a rare thing for Daemon to do, yet it was rare he heard this voice over the years. The last time Daemon was certain he heard it had led to a meeting with a woman who stole his heart. It led to his son being born. Daemon smiled and opened his eyes, his plan set in his head.

"Grey Gallows," Daemon said as he pointed to the map.

"Not Bloodstone?" Rhaenys asked.

"Not yet," Daemon said with a smirk.

It took a week for their ships and army to be ready to leave. During that time Daemon spent hours in the yard testing himself against each and every man he could. Sellswords, men from the North, Corlys' guards, and his own were no match for Daemon and Dark Sister. By the third day, Daemon was facing off against two or three at a time. Daemon bid them to come at him in waves and took some bruises in the exchanges, but not once did he falter.

At night Daemon would sit by the fire and speak to Corlys only when the older man had something to say to him. Mostly Daemon would find himself alone with his thoughts and would seek out the comfort of that voice only to find it silent once more. When he was a younger man Daemon may have dared name it the gods or even destiny that spoke to him. Now that Daemon was older, if not exactly wiser, he thought with a chuckle, Daemon would name it differently.

Aemon had told him once that he heard Vermithor call for him. That the Bronze Fury was lonely and wished not to be. So Aemon went to claim him for himself. His son had said that he literally heard the voice of a dragon in his head, and Daemon now believed that he did too. That the voice Daemon heard was the Blood Wyrm, and given what plan he came up with, Daemon would name anyone a liar who said it was not so. For his dragon knew much about the pirate fleets and had fought against them before. Caraxes, Vermithor, and Vhagar had each laid down their flames in war, and those who felt them had washed up on Westeros' shores for half a year or more.

"Soon, our enemies shall feel them again," Daemon said as he rose to his feet and went in search of a warm body to share his bed.

Daemon woke up in a tavern in Spicetown with two girls who could very well be sisters so alike did they look. Daemon threw down some coins on the small table beside the bed and left the girls asleep as he made his way back to High Tide. It was still dark out when Daemon reached the keep, and once there he broke his fast on half-cooked blood sausage and spiced wine. They would leave at high tide, and while Daemon would fly some of the way on Caraxes' back he would sail as well.

Daemon broke his fast before he made his way to the rooms that he was given in the Velaryon Keep. There was little in them but a change of clothing and his armour. Daemon was happy enough that the clothes he wore the previous night would suffice for his flight today. So other than his cloak, he changed nothing else. Daemon called for the servants and ordered his things to be taken to his ship which was docked next to The Sea Snake itself.

His flagship was the Lady Lyanna, a gift from Corlys who joined him in this venture. It would be filled with those closest to Daemon, and with all the delightful comforts he could take with him. If this was another time then Mysaria would await him naked onboard. Daemon hated the feeling that came to him when he thought of her and the babe they lost. Daemon resolved not to miss her too much as he knew there was a good chance he would travel to Lys to see her. Or at the very least send his ship to bring her to him at some point.

Daemon decided to change focus and wrote another letter to Aemon that he would bid Rhaenys to send in a moon. Once done, Daemon sealed it with his ring before he walked out of the room ready to win the kingdom that would be his son's one day. Be it Aemon's alone or as part of the seven kingdoms that his son and niece would rule over. Daemon cared not as it would be his gift to his boy and that was all that mattered in the end.

Bloodstone, one Moon Later.

Beneath them, the fleet sailed and it was a majestic sight. Daemon could barely count the number of ships that Corlys had gathered, but he would wager it was a hundred or more. Ships that bore men, supplies, weapons, and armour. No fleet was more prepared for battle than the one the Sea Snake assembled.

There was wood to build forts and temporary dwellings before they could bring the masons in to build castles and more permanent structures. They even brought seeds to grow food should this war take longer than they anticipated. To some their army would seem small and insignificant. There were Houses in Westeros who could raise twice or even thrice their number, but Daemon would wager his men's skill and determination a match for any. Some Daemon would name the fiercest he had ever seen. The men from the North that had been sent to him by Rickon Stark would certainly fit that description.

Coin, glory, renown, and respect were what they had come to earn and he would see they knew all of those things. Some, however, came just for adventure and blood. Corlys came to protect the wealth he gathered over the years and to enhance that wealth. Daemon came for a crown, and in the end, their reasons mattered not. All that did was that they were here and there was a war to be fought.

Atop Caraxes Daemon bid his dragon to fly faster, to which the Blood Wyrm responded immediately. Soon enough their own fleet was left behind and the Stepstones themselves were in view. Daemon flew high above Bloodstone and fought off the instinct to take the island. Instead, Daemon kept to the plan he made and bid Caraxes to fly to the docks to circle the island itself. They did so once and then circled it once more. Once he was certain, Daemon readied himself for what he was about to do.

Armoured, his gold cloak flowed in the wind with his helm protecting him from its bite. Daemon smirked as he lined up his attack.

"Caraxes, ivestragī īlva urnēptre zirȳ skorkydoso naejot obūljagon." (Caraxes, Let us show them how to kneel.)

Wings pulled in tight to his body, the Blood Wyrm swooped down from up high. With the sun at his back, they would be unseen until the flames themselves were released. Beneath them, most ships were docked, but it was those that were not that Daemon targeted first.

"Dracarys," Daemon commanded.

The first ship all but exploded such was the intensity of the Blood Wyrm's flames, and no sooner had they passed over one before another soon faced Caraxes' fury. Over and over again Daemon bid his dragon to show them who truly ruled over land, sea, and sky. Daemon tuned out the sounds of screams of those lucky enough to miss the full force of Caraxes' flames but unlucky enough to get caught in them all the same.

Daemon knew he truly could not smell their flesh when it burned away, yet the smell was so familiar to him that it was as if he could. Three passes and not a ship at sea would sail again, it was now time to ensure that those which were docked would not do so either.

"Konīr, Caraxes. Urnēptre zirȳ tolī." (There, Caraxes. Show them too.) Daemon said and the Blood Wyrm flew to the island itself.

In less than an hour, they burned close to fifty ships. The Docks were destroyed and only the gods knew how many lives they fed to the Stranger. Caraxes easily dodged arrows and scorpion bolts that were fired at him, few though they were. Their attack had taken the poor souls on the ships completely by surprise. It almost made Daemon wish to change his plans, fly to Corlys, and bid him make for Bloodstone instead of Grey Gallows. They could perhaps destroy the largest force of men easily now. Yet again something held Daemon back, and though he heard no voice this time, he did listen to the words he believed it said from the last time.

Daemon flew over the island towards the fleet when he bid Caraxes let out a loud roar of victory. It would not be the last one the Blood Wyrm would let loose before this war was done.

House of the Dragon.

King Viserys Targaryen born 77 AC age 29 years old

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen born 97 AC age 9 years old.

Prince Daemon Targaryen born 81 AC age 25 years old

Prince Aemon Targaryen born 97 AC age 9 years old.

House Hightower of Kings Landing.

Ser Otto Hightower born 70 AC age 36 years old

Alicent Hightower born 88 AC age 18 years old

Gwayne Hightower born 93 AC age 13 years old.

Two sons are unnamed as of yet.

House Velaryon of Driftmark.

Lord Corlys Velaryon born 53 AC age 53 years old

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen born 74 AC age 32 years old.

Laena Velaryon born 92 AC age 13 years old.

Laenor Velaryon born 94 AC age 11 years old

Other Notable characters.

Ser Criston Cole born 82 AC age 24 years old.

Ser Daeron Waters born 78 AC age 27 years old.

A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: Two years proves to be a long time in both Westeros and the Stepstones. In King's Landing Viserys and Alicent welcome their first child and Otto begins to plan even more. In the Stepstones, Daemon and Corlys take one island after another before Daemon finds himself facing a true and dangerous foe one on one. Meanwhile, Aemon and Rhaenyra grow closer to each other and distance themselves further from those around them while each piece of news relating to his father makes Aemon more fearful eventually leading to him making a decision that has consequences.

For those reading my other fics, Aemon the Dragonknight and Revenge is a Dish are both up next.

Daryl Dixon: So glad you liked it.

Dunk: I always wondered that myself with Daemon. You could argue that he may not have remembered it and was drunk or that his own arrogant nature just made him so angered at Viserys even thinking he'd do so, that he refused to defend himself. Or it could even be that he actually thought it and so believed he may have said it. But more than anything Daemon just seemed the kind of guy who never defended his actions to anyone. Viserys sort of tolerated Otto for quite some time. He was quite obvious in his actions, but he also knew when to stop speaking them. Here we're getting sort of a snapshot of him which gives the impression it's constant, but it really wasn't. I think it was more every so often until later on, it became every day if that makes sense. One of the other aspects of Otto is that he was Jaehaerys Hand too. And so a bit like Jon A (for different reasons) he sort of ruled in all but name. With Viserys, early on he defers even more, as he's finding his feet and so Otto thinks him weak, but at times Viserys showed a backbone too. So each time he does something himself, it catches Otto out. It also sort of explains why Otto is so upfront, he's not really had the need to be more subtle for years. So we're not going with the others first, as you say it brings unneeded drama to things and we may as well have just gone with Daemon then. No, Rhaenyra and Aemon will marry only each other. But things will change too. For now, both are so young that they can only slightly influence those changes, as they grow, they'll be bigger and bigger. For me, I see it as little ripples and then bigger ones, it's sort of my standard approach to a story where you start with a younger protagonist. It's too much to expect that they can change things hugely at the beginning, but over time, they certainly can.

Fireking: He certainly will. As he grows it'll become more and more apparent. Exactly, while yes Viserys is being somewhat petty and punishing Daemon by taking his son away, he does see Aemon almost as a son too. More than that, it's knowing just how close he and Rhaenyra are and just how happy they make each other, so it's a bit of both with Viserys. There will be more and more of that as we go, Rhaenyra and Aemon will in a lot of ways be seen as a package deal. We may see that with Viserys and the SC. As for the changes, we'll begin to see more and more as they age. The Stepstones will be different, so we'll see it there first maybe.

Tehstorm: Yeah we won't go that route, it's unnecessary and would be forced drama. It's one thing Viserys keeping Daemon away from Rhaenyra as in canon, but quite another to do the same with Aemon. Also, with Daemon it was always more about the throne, with Aemon it's far more about Rhaenyra so I doubt either he or Rhaenyra would accept it if Viserys told them to wed others.

Cew: Which is exactly what he did. Otto will still push things, it's who he is. We will give Aemon some experiences before the Dance timeline kicks off for true. As for the Crabfeeder, he's up next. If Aemon was older than Viserys may very well do as you suggest, but he's still only 9 here, so he'd not. Which is why you see just how much both he and Rhaenyra are pissed at him. Aemon will be leaving KL at some point, won't say when and he will be going North too, again, can't say when as it's spoilery.

Icarus: Ok so first thing, the ages. We're going with Bookcanon not show canon. Making Rhaenyra and Alicent so close in age was a mistake IMO, as was making Rhaenyra older than Laena. It Just messes things up so much.

So here, Aemon/Rhaenyra are 9 and Alicent is 18. As you can see from the end of the chapter. That's also why things are so close to canon too, as there is only so much change that can be made by Aemon being here given his age. As he and Rhaenyra grow, more and more canon will change, but as of now, the only real changes are more personal. Rhaenyra having someone who supports and loves her completely, Daemon having a son who he adores, etc. We may in some way see some of the traits of Jon Snow's siblings in his future children, maybe. So with Aemon and Criston, it's a little more than that. What it is will become clearer in a couple of chapters, it takes them to be older for it to be truly seen and we'll be making them older over the next few chapters which will cover more time and jump forward a bit. We have big plans with Aemon and Dorne and him becoming a knight and as I said, changes are coming, but they'll start out small, and then grow as the characters do. Things outside their control will stay outside their control, but those ripples will grow bigger.

Guest: He probably shouldn't have been, but technically removing Daemon removes Aemon anyway. Since Daemon is Viserys' heir and him. his son. More than anything it was Viserys anger at Daemon though and in truth, it makes little true difference as Daemon says here. Ser Criston is the best warrior and Viserys is sort of blind to a lot of things, he doesn't notice things as much as others do. It won't be a Seed riding Silverwing, of that I can guarantee. We'll see with Alicent's children, you have to bear in mind that a lot of it is down to Alicent herself too. But we'll see.

Celexys: Yes we want to see the seeds so to speak. It starts off on very familiar ground and over time the divergences become clear. As Aemon and Rhaenyra grow, more and more things will change around them.

KnighHunter: Thanks so much. Over time we'll see bigger changes. But given the ages, things would sort of just progress pretty much in line with canon, until they don't. Expecting Aemon to change things hugely at 9 is too much to expect, but when he reaches 13/15, then it's almost like we're right at the true beginning of things. We'll see more and more changes as they grow older and we'll not be wasting too much time to see that is so. So the next two chapters should cover 4/5 years or so for example. As for the dreams, it won't be about WW or the NK, more echoes of the life he lived and not truly understanding why he's not living this one if that makes sense. Hopefully, by the end, it all will.

Irish Hermit: Very much so. At least with Corlys, there is a genuine grudge there that Rhaenys was passed over. So while it's about ambition, it's also wounded pride. Otto is pure ambition and the fact he was a second son with no land, plays its part too. That's very true about Rhaenyra and we'll see that more as she grows older. Though with Criston I always put equal blame on him and I doubt if he would ever have been a true ally unless he was wed to her. Criston is as much of a grasper as anyone and remember, he broke his oaths which sort of tells you much about his character. The biggest thing for Rhaenyra and Aemon too is that they have each other. Again it's something we'll see more and more and they'll help iron out each other's deficiencies too. We very much do with Aemon squiring yes, some things are being set up for the future. But in Viserys' defence, he hasn't noticed that Aemon dislikes Criston, he rarely notices such things, and in his own mind, he's putting Daemon's son to learn from the best warrior he can. So he thinks he's doing right by him.

Very much so. Viserys loves Aemon and he can see how much Aemon himself and Rhaenyra enjoy each other's company. So he doesn't think he's hurting Aemon, but his intent was to hurt Daemon as much as he could. It is a mistake and yet in some ways, it may turn out the best thing that Viserys has ever done as it truly strengthens the bond between Aemon and Rhaenyra. As for him showing more backbone, he will in time.

Rhatch: So very glad you liked it.

Guest: No for Aemon there is only Rhaenyra.

Xan Merrick: Thanks so much, my friend.

The Darkwolf: In a way, they'll help curb each of their worst impulses, but probably more than anything that Aemon may teach Rhaenyra is to be more restrained in public, to hide her true intent.

Spymaster: We may see a different fate for House Strong here since you can argue that much of their fate is related to Harwin's actions. As for Ser Criston, well Aemon may very well be aware that there is interest in one part of the Nyra/Criston dynamic, we'll see. We do want to play with canon, to change events in a believable way which is why so far little has seemingly changed, even though much actually has.

Lazymanjones: So happy you enjoyed it.

Alberto: Don't worry, it won't be abandoned. This chapter took longer because SPH and I both had some personal things to deal with, but the next one should be quicker.

Vulcan: Did they even have Hounds wear collars back then? I mean I'm sure they can make it, but to what end? Aemon leading Ghost by the collar seems just wrong lol

Princess of Greenwood: Your wish is my command.

Dominika: Thanks so very much for saying so. It truly means a lot to me. I'm not sure if we'll have him go to Valyria, as there may not really be a need for it given that there is no WW or NK for him to face her, but we'll see.