BAELA

Aemond did not rule her nightmares. Aemond did not terrify her. He enraged her, yes. He had made her feel powerless, for certain. As the nightmares grew worse and the night fell further and further away, he was definitely the object of her ire, but he was not the object of her fear. Aemond had been punished, after all. Not enough, for his breach of understanding, for his attempt on Jace and Luke's lives, for the impudence of his conduct. But he had lost an eye. He face consequences. And the King had not retaliated.

But Crazy Queen Eye-for-an-Eye had.

More than Aemond, more than Vhagar, Baela would dream of Crazy Queen Alicent charging at Luke with a dagger — demanding his eye for the crime of protecting his brother from a rock.

It was not that she had attacked them. Attacks, Baela could handle.

But no one had stopped her. She was the Queen, so no one had stopped her. No one but Rhaenyra. Her dog had nearly attacked Rhaenyra for stopping her, until Father intervened. And once Father was occupied — No. One. Else. Stopped. Her. If anyone but the heir had tried, she imagines they would have been executed.

She stabbed the heir to the throne, and nothing had happened. And all she could say for herself was that the boys had driven her crazy.

Baela had not thought the events had affected her so, and everyone else had seemed to recover. But her nightmares started when they came to Dragonstone, a few weeks following the funeral.

"The trouble with night terrors," Gerardys had explained. "Is that you are not supposed to remember them. They are supposed to be a way for your mind to process your fears, and then let go. But should you wake whilst in the middle of one…"

And Baela always woke to a storm.

Baela had awoken several times after Crazy Queen lunged yet again at her new brother. She would run from her room all the way to his and she would shake him until he was awake. Then she would check he still had both eyes.

Rhaenyra had intervened after the third time they'd found Baela sleeping in Luke's room. "You cannot be known to sleep in the same room unsupervised," she'd warned. "The Greens have enough ammunition against us as is."

"Like what?" Baela had asked.

No one had answered.

"Why do Luke and I look so different?" she had asked on one of their volcano egg-hunt excursions. It was a particularly treacherous area, so it had been only her and Luke with Father. Rhaena, he deemed too delicate, and Jace, too much of a talebearer.

He stepped carefully, but not because of the chasm. Only a few moons had passed since the funeral, and none but Jace had been sure of the claims. She did not realize until years later that Father had been forbidden from giving an honest answer. "What do you mean?" he said without looking at her.

"You and Rhaenyra are close kin, and you look closely alike. Mother and Laenor were close kin, and they looked closely alike. Therefore, should Luke and I not look closely alike? Why is his skin so pale, and his hair so dark?"

Father actually came to a standstill. "Oh no… how do I say this without getting in trouble?"

"He means no coupling," Baela explained to Luke. His eyes glazed over in a denial Jace could only dream of.

Father turned to them once he'd devised his story. "Laenor and Laena did not look very alike. They each took after a different parent. Your father had a more… Baratheon look to him. That is why you look like a Baratheon."

"Father did not look like a Baratheon," Luke had argued. "And neither does Grandmother."

"That's because your Grandmother's hair turned white from stress."

"Stress from what?" Luke asked.

"Stress from not minding her own business. And being married to your Grandsire. Take your pick."

"But what about Laenor?" Baela pressed. "I overheard Crazy Queen say that's why she's crazy. Because Luke does not look like Laenor."

Father turned urgent. "When did you hear that?"

"Driftmark."

"Before or after?" He need not say what.

"After. The morning after."

Father seethed, though Baela had not then understood why. She had yet to share the images that haunted her, that grew more and more vivid as everyone else's memories went cold. Even Luke, only recently having healed his nose, had seemed to have left the heat of that night behind.

"Is that why she stabbed Rhaenyra, because she went crazy because—"

"No. She went crazy because she's a Hightower."

"So they're all crazy? Are they all going to—"

"No, Baela," he insisted.

"But why does thinking of Laenor make her crazy?"

"Why do I look so different?" Luke joined in.

Father sighed and looked ready to drop — or run. But he was trapped in a chasm, so instead he continued. "Your father… did look like a Baratheon when he was younger. But Baratheons live in the Stormlands, where there is no sun."

"Because of the storms?" Baela asked.

"Yes…" His confidence grew and he once again led them down the path. "Because of the storms."

And then he went on to say what Rhaenyra later declared to be, the stupidest thing Daemon has ever said.

Family storm nights had been their compromise. And they settled her worries for a time.

Until then they received the raven: Crazy Queen Alicent was coming to Dragonstone.

"She's going to kill Luke!" she'd insisted as she paced around the dining table. "I've heard her, I've heard her say he makes her crazy!"

"She will not get near him," Father had promised.

Baela stopped to make her point. "She did last time. Only Rhaenyra stopped her, and now Rhaenyra is pregnant!" She gasped when she realized the new possibility. "Is she going to stab Rhaenyra whilst she is with child?"

Father looked helplessly to Rhaenyra. "No one is stabbing anyone," she then said.

"But she's crazy!" she tried to remind them. "And no one is allowed to stop her!"

No one… Oh no. She turned to Father. "Father, you said they don't want you and Rhaenyra to have a child together! What if she tries to stab the b—"

"Baela…" he pleaded and slouched onto the table. Her siblings only watched in uncomfortable silence.

"But what if you have to stop her? Will the King have you—"

"No," he promised in his tired voice.

They had tried and tried to argue with her, but Baela kept returning to the same points. The same points they could not discount, the same points that haunted her dreams. It did not matter if she was some dainty queen incompatible of proper combat. No one was allowed to stop her. Therefore, she was unstoppable.

"We cannot turn Cr— Alicent away away," Rhaenyra said. "Not while our relationship with Father is so strained."

"I can turn her dog away, at the least," Father said. "The others might be afraid to stop her, but no one but the dog would ever back her."

"And no knives," Baela demanded.

"No knives," Father agreed.

Rhaenyra suggested sending Baela to Driftmark for the Queen's stay, but the idea of being away terrified her far more. And there was a storm approaching from the Narrow Sea. Finally, the morning before their arrival, they resolved to send Luke to visit Grandmother.

But he had not stayed at Grandmother's.

She caught him gathering supplies only a few hours after he'd departed on Arrax.

"What are you doing here?" she'd demanded.

"Grandmother pretended she wasn't there," he'd said so casually. She had later learned he was accustomed to her cold attitude.

"What do you mean pretended?" Baela, on the other hand, was not accustomed to coldness from Grandmother.

"They said she wasn't there when I asked. But I saw her outside before I landed, before she knew I was there."

"What?"

"Worry not, Baela. It was cravenly to hide away." He looked her in the eye and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm going to fix all of this, I promise. You will never need worry about Crazy Queen again."

And then he'd left for the day, the night, and the morning after.

She had never seen Father quite so stunned. He only stood there, hands over his mouth. Ser Lorent was just as lost; this went far beyond his training. Even Baela was lost for words.

Luke had yet to realize what was wrong, save that he was stiff and itchy. "Is my hair any whiter?" he kept asking. "I cannot see it."

No one answered. They all just gaped.

Father swallowed some of his shock and summoned some wits. "How long?"

"All day yesterday, then I slept at the top of the dragonmont, then all morning."

"Why?" Father implored.

"Arrax is too small to reach the Stepstones."

"It's barely spring," Ser Lorent said. "I do not understand how it became this severe."

"I used my father's oil."

Father dropped his hands. "What?"

"The oil. The one you said made him tan faster."

Father took a breath, then kneeled down to look Luke in the eye. "Lucerys," he said as calmly as he could manage. "You are an imbecile."

"You said…"

"I was lying!"

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions for which you do not want the answer. And where did you even get that oil?"

"Father's old rooms."

"Laenor i— was too smart and too rich to use anything on his skin that could do this. Nothing of his should ha— show me."

Luke removed a near empty bottle from his bag, and two empty ones.

Had Father not been kneeling before Luke, Baela wondered if he would have swooned like a maiden from a fairytale. "Lucerys… the substance in those bottles is not meant for any part that sees the sun."

"What does that mean?"

"What did I say about questions?"

"Should I bring the Maester?" Ser Lorent suggested.

"So he can tell Rhaenyra I got her son to cook himself in l—" He shook his head and stood back up. "No. No. We can fix this. We need to fix this." He turned to Luke. "The Queen cannot see you like this."

That returned Baela to words. "Why?" she demanded. Luke asked the same, with much less urgency though.

"Because it is very obvious what you tried to do, and the timing makes it obvious why. You cannot show her you're afraid; it will only give her more confidence."

"Oh no…" Baela mumbled. Confident Crazy Queen? Who's now just down the corridor? She started to pace around the study.

"What?" Luke asked, clearly not understanding the danger they were now in.

Baela decided to warn him. "Because now she's going to—"

"No, she's not," Father said. He then tried to redirect from the fact that Crazy Queen grew more powerful. "Why would you think this was a good idea?" he asked Luke.

"I didn't want Baela to be afraid for me anymore. I thought I could make the Queen stop."

"No one can stop her, Luke!" Baela reminded him as she paced. "No, no one can stop her she's going to take over the world like ghost grass! She's going to go around with a knife to take us out one by one and no one is allowed to stop her you just have to stand there or run." She gasped. "Rhaenyra and the baby cannot run!"

Father clutched his head like he thought it might explode.

Ser Lorent looked helplessly between them all. "So what do we do?"

Father also started to pace, but his circles were not as large of fast as Baela's. "I'm thinking, I'm thinking. We can fix this," he told himself.

Baela was dubious. It was she who'd discovered Luke and she'd almost fainted from imagining the pain — which apparently had yet to set in. She said so to Father.

"Worry not…" he assured her. "We simply need to fix this before the unimaginable pain sets in and your skin starts to bubble." He assessed Luke again. "Even more, that is. And hopefully stop some of your skin from falling off."

"What!" Luke was finally alarmed.

"Deep burns take time to feel fully," Father lectured. He pointed to his shoulder. "First, they are numb, then they tingle, then they sting, then they burn and you want to set yourself on fire just to get it over with."

"What?"

"What did you think would happen after you cooked yourself like a chicken? Don't answer that. And no, your hair is not white, nor blond. You'll be lucky if your hair survives, even."

She only realized then, Luke had yet to look in a mirror. She, Father, and Ser Lorent exchanged looks: best to keep it that way.

Father stopped pacing and looked to Ser Lorent. "Get Ser Steffon. Pick as many of the lykāpas perzot as possible. Bring them here.

"The what?"

"The cactus-like things we planted," Baela answered. She had also stopped pacing. She had a job to do, she suspected. And Baela was very good at secret jobs. She could focus on her job, instead of Crazy Queen.

Father then did give her a job. "Baela, send Rhaena here — but not Jace. In fact, send Jace far away. Then sneak into the Maester's chambers and steal the silk bandages."

"How many?"

"All of them."

"What!" Luke yelled. His ever-reddening, ever-hardening face creased in an unnerving way when he spoke.

Baela had to ask. "Father, is Luke's entire body going to look like your shoulder?"

Luke's eyes widened. Father did not answer.

She separated from Ser Lorent when they reached the sitting room — unfortunately, the shortest path to Rhaena led her through enemy territory. She used the distraction he made by summoning Ser Steffon to somersault past the doorway.

Ser Lorent pulled a confused Ser Steffon from the room. "What's happening?" he asked once in the corridors. Ser Lorent already had them breaking into a run.

"No time to explain, grab a cactus!"

Gerardys had locked the Maester's chamber, so the climb meant that Baela was the last to return. Father had Luke mostly undressed; a dark bubble the size of a grape had formed on his back. Not red, nor the colour of his flesh but a stark brown edged in yellow. Smaller malformations already rippled across his body. The top layer of his skin was… curdling.

Baela and Rhaena lived among dragons and had a father with a permanent burn scar, so they were already practiced at preparing the lykāpas perzot. The Kingsguard followed their lead.

"At the very least, he did not oil his scalp," Father sighed. But then concern overcame him once more. "Please tell me you kept your drawers on."

"Yes."

"Small mercies." Father examined Luke once again. "We need to cover every inch, I think."

"For how long?" Baela had asked.

"Until… I don't know."

Luke finally seemed to grasp the severity of his situation, but still seemed confined to the same response. "What?" he cried and backed away from the remedies they prepared. As if the bandages themselves made it real.

And then Father said those next fateful words. "I'll make you a deal. Work with me here, and then tonight we'll scare Jacaerys."

Luke's skin cracked like mud when he smiled.

Jace had not waited until that night to venture in. He ventured in when everyone but Baela and Rhaena had left to retrieve more lykāpas perzot for later. Rhaena had been applying the poultice to the last of his uncovered fingers.

Worried it could be the royal party, they hid in the back section of forbidden books when they heard him approach. They peeked through a gap between the volumes their parents had declared 'too depraved for those not of age,' to see Jace enter the room. He looked around as if checking for witnesses, made a sly smile, and creeped towards the section in which they hid.

The bandages they'd lain to soothe Luke's swollen eyelids were still thin enough to see through. He must have realized that Jace would find them, and this would therefore be his only chance.

He took it.

Baela was her father's daughter, and could therefore revel in chaos in even the darkest of moments. She couldn't help but follow the pursuit. Especially once the returning Kingsguard joined the chase.

Rhaena followed for a different reason. "I wasn't finished!"

She had laughed so hard, she'd forgotten about the presence of Crazy Queen. Until they'd all gathered at the centre of destruction. Still, she decided to laugh later that it had been a scared Jace, and not a half-blind Luke, to topple the kitchen's cart.

Both the Kingsguard had dropped their load to pursue the princes, but Father remained unfazed. And then came the call.

"Daemon!"

"It's been a pleasure, My Prince," Ser Lorent said piteously.

"Worry not," Father assured. Though he did seem a little worried. "I have a plan. Better yet, Rhaenyra will have a plan."

She crept over to listen in. Rhaenyra wisely stuck to Valyrian. "I see a child in bandages, I see a burn plant… what did I say about volcanoes?"

"Not again," Gerardys said, and came running out.

"I will have you know that this has nothing to do with volcanoes. A simple sunburn."

"Sunburn?"

"Yes, it appears Luke took a bit of a detour. Do you remember that conversation we had the other night? Regarding Baela and her nightmares?"

Baela was aghast that Father would give away her fears in front of the Crazy Queen, especially after telling Luke how important it was to appear strong. She rushed to where he lingered in the doorway and grabbed his hand — careful to stay out of sight.

She dug her nails in to tell him to stop. He squeezed reassuringly, but then he continued with his tales.

"I do not understand," the King said after some time. "How exactly do Baela's night terrors relate to Lucerys?"

But Father's words were not some story meant for the King. They were a confession and an appeal for mercy — from the only one who could help him out of this.

Baela peered through the crack in the open door and could see Rhaenyra put it together. She gave Father her I'll deal with you later look Baela had already come to learn, and then inclined her head towards the Queen — who, to Baela's horror, sat next to an unprotected, pregnant Rhaenyra.

"It's the talk," Rhaenyra said to the King. "Everyone has heard the talk. Did you really think it would never reach the children?"

"Of what?"

"She knows that Alicent speaks often of how she was driven mad by Lucerys. How he still drives her crazy. How angry she is that she never had retribution. She is a listener, of course it would make it back to her. That night when Alicent drew steel against the children has stayed with her. She still awakens at night, screaming for Lucerys, and runs to his chambers to ensure Alicent has not taken his eye!"

Father joined in. "Lucerys was simply trying to assuage his stepsister's fears. He heard Alicent jape on multiple occasions that maybe the boys should just stand in the sun for the day covered in oil. He merely followed her instructions. He knew not where it would lead, only that it might calm Alicent's sanity."

Rhaenyra gave him a look that said, 'really?'

But those words were meant for the King. He gasped. "She said what?"

"Honestly Father, did you truly think Alicent could continue to speak these things to all at Court and it would never get back to the children?"

"I'm certain there was some miscommunication. Alicent would never wish harm upon your children."

"She already has," Father argued. "I find her… obsession with the childrens' appearances quite troubling. And if I'm being honest, a little inappropriate."

"Daemon," the King warned."I'm not sure you of all people can accuse anyone of being inappropriate."

Father sighed. "I've hesitated to raise this issue. But… It is very clear that while Laena took after the Sea Snake, Laenor took more after our cousin. Yet your wife continues to take issue with all the children. And it's reached the point where I cannot help but wonder… if her discomfort lies less with the way Rhaenyra's sons look, and more with the way my daughters look."

Everyone who understood Valyrian then understood Father to be full of shit. Except for the horrified King, apparently.

"O-o-o-f course not!" he actually stuttered.

"Now, I know the Hightowers are very… traditional but—"

Father finally cut off his words. He'd no doubt seen the look Rhaenyra gave him. A look so thoroughly unimpressed that even Father could not face her. He turned away from the room to escape her judgment, only to face Baela.

Baela crossed her arms and copied Rhaenyra's expression.

Fortunately, the King was too stunned to notice. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and took over. "You know why she fears Alicent so much? When it was that beast of a boy who attacked them? She believes that she can do as she please, and you will not stop her. She fears you'll have anyone killed who tries to stop her."

Baela had an idea. She tapped Father's hand so he would look back to her. She pointed to Rhaenyra and Alicent through the crack, then to her own belly, then made a throat-slitting motion. He squeezed in acknowledgement.

"You know what Baela asked me when she heard you were coming ?" he relayed. "She asked me, 'If Alicent tries to st—'" he pretended to choke on his words. "Tries to stab Rhaenyra and the baby, and you have to stop her, will the King have you executed?'"

The King was aghast. "Where would she get such an idea? "

"From the time Alicent stabbed Rhaenyra trying to get to Luke, and no one interfered, I imagine. Baela is… very sensitive."

She clawed his hand. "In some regards," he amends. "She does not like knowing she cannot defend her family without risking the wrath of Queen eye-for-an-eye."

"Honestly Father, I would pay more mind to the message you send by allowing this behaviour to continue. The children are all terrified of her."

"Yes, the girls are terrified." Father put a strange emphasis on 'girls.' "I brought them back so they might know their homeland and their family. Is this the homecoming they are to face?"

"Of course not!" And then the King turned back to his wife.

Not his Queen, his wife. And he gave her a look of anger and disappointment she'd thought only her mother and Rhaenyra capable of.

"That's simply the look anyone learns after knowing your father for too long," Rhaenyra had explained later. "Once you acquire it, you can direct it at anyone."

And then the King had sent his wife away. She was to stay only the one night for the storm.

Baela had no nightmares that night, despite the storm. They would still occur occasionally, but rarely to the degree beforehand. And she never again had the urge to peel Luke's lids open to check his eyes.

They had even run into her on their way to the tower that night. Poor Luke had needed to be led — he was to be entrapped in bandages and Lykāpas perzot for days. Whilst Crazy Queen had been defanged, she could still be angry at the pain she had driven poor Luke to — the pain that by then he could actually feel.

"Can I help?" she had actually asked. Her. Help.

Baela made her position quite clear. "Haven't you done enough?"

Apparently… she had not. Apparently, Alicent had much more to do. She wished she had not been so complacent, but it had been so easy to feel like they'd won after banishing her from their home.

Something else had bothered her that night though. "Father," she'd asked after the others had fallen asleep. "Why did you keep saying it was me who was afraid?"

"Have you forgotten why you sleep here, Tala?"

"But you told Luke that no one should know, that he should not let her know he is intimidated. Why did you only focus on me?"

"Because… you being afraid of Alicent makes her look bad, not you."

"But why not Luke?"

"Yuh," mummy Luke added.

"Because it's different."

"How?"

"It just is."