RHAENYRA
For the first time since the waters claimed her, Rhaenyra tries to breathe.
She's not very successful — she is out of practice after all, but she breathes just enough to sense just how deprived she has been. She gulps the air in just fine, it's on the exhale that she runs into problems. Her body is far more aware than her mind, and it is reluctant to release that air it has long yearned for. Her breath streams in smooth like the tide, but it leaves her like a storm.
There are monsters lurking in these depths, and one latches onto her, trying to pull her back to that place she'd gone numb to survive. "I wouldn't get too excited," says the sea monster. But the sea monster itself seems quite excited. "He's not here to save you. He's here to save himself."
She takes another drink of air; she swallows and tries to keep it forever, but it escapes from her even more violently than the rest.
A shadow climbs down from Caraxes. A shadow steps onto the pyre.
The old viper steps forward and calls to the shadow. "I do not trust that you are wise or honest enough, but I do trust that you are self-interested enough not to push this precarious situation into full disaster."
"And before you get any ideas," the sea monster calls to Caraxes. "Know that these links are iron and the pillar is fixed to the ground. The only other key is inside and I am the only one who knows where it is, so I would not recommend trying to kill me. We burn, she burns, you burn."
The Hightower men form a half circle to protect their end of the pyre, but they give Daemon his distance.
Vipers.
Venom.
Daemon.
Her blood starts to thaw. "Daemon! Do not let them get close to you! They have actual poison fangs!" Were she not wearing a shawl, the sea monster would definitely tug the chain that links the handcuffs to her neck. Since it is blocked to him, he settles for grabbing that same part of her arm he always goes for.
His hand bites her like a shark. Well, at least she knows what type of sea monster she deals with.
"What?" Daemon asks. Then he refocuses. "Worry not, My Love. I have insurance. And until I sign that stupid thing, me being alive is more convenient." He then addresses to the whole pyre. "I have been poisoned quite enough for my tastes, so let me make this clear. I'd always suspected that my connection to Caraxes extends to when I'm unconscious — even if that sleep is fueled by substance, but I had it confirmed several nights ago. Just after midnight, I believe."
As vague as those words were, the last part earns the attention — and concern — of the others. It also earns Rhaenyra's.
Just after midnight…
She sets it aside for now.
"Oh," Daemon continues. "And before you decide to kill me, why don't we find out what happens if I die?" He turns back to Caraxes. "Just a reminder, what happens if I die?"
Caraxes rises on his haunches and lowers his neck to reveal Viserys the three-year-old. "I'm going to claim Caraxes and fuck you all up!" he shouts .
"Gods be good," says Ser Harrold, Alicent, and half of the others. Including the shark.
Viserys continues. "Starting with you, Aegon!"
"Hey!"
"Worry not," the imbecile assures them. "He's buckled in."
How sweet. My dear husband has come to put an end to my suffering — by giving me a fucking heart attack.
The imbecile continues. "And should he fail… I'll have you know that all my children are skilled at riding dragons they are not bonded to."
The shark and the old viper bristle; others fidget uncomfortably.
Her surveys hi surroundings. "Interesting choice," he says. "You knew it would be Caraxes, yet you neglect to choose the one dragon capable of matching him."
The old viper is now in the middle of the pyre. "We have little need, and little desire, for a dragon fight. We have enough insurance on all sides as it is," he says. But there is an edge to his voice.
"In that case, I suppose you made the right choice," says her husband in one of his smug tones. She wonders if the others are even capable of discerning it from his other tones.
"Besides," says the old viper. "We would never have our King risk his life for such a low matter. And I do not think our Queen would handle his loss well. In fact, should he perish, I fear Rhaenyra might suffer some tragic health effects."
"Please don't kill him I don't want to be a puppet!"
"Still," Daemon presses. "You would think he would be invincible on Vhagar."
The shark bites her as he speaks. "If you're so confident in your ability to best Vhagar, why did you insist on seeing her into the dragonpit?" he demands.
"Unlike the lot of you, I do understand the need for caution in regard to dragons. Also, Joffrey needed something to do."
"Daemon!"
"Relax, My Love. No one knows where he is. He is simply a hidden observer to ensure none of the other dragons leave the pit. He needed to feel useful after being excluded."
"Please," the old viper scoffs. "As if either we or the Velaryons will let you take him — more importantly, his claim. He would be little more than a vessel for you to sit and wait with, ready to deploy when you think us weak."
Take him? What exactly is he playing at here?
"You give me too little credit," says her husband. "I care deeply for all my stepsons." His voice becomes more serious for just a moment, and some of the sea monsters shift once more. "But worry not, the Velaryons are just as insistent as you, for the moment. They were practically jumping when they showed me your demand for him to remain."
The shark redirects. "I have a hard time believing he'd risk this just to give the children a goodbye."
Daemon, what the fuck. She decides to give her family the benefit of the doubt; there's little more she can do in the moment whilst retaining her sanity.
"I am a man of many layers," her husband insists. "And is it so much beyond me, you think, to simply desire parting words with my beloved of six years?"
Seriously?
"Still," the shark says. "He's up to something. He's always up to something."
"What does it matter?" he husband says. "If I've learned anything these past few days, it's that your lot is not smart enough to stop before the line of mutually assured destruction. To my benefit, mayhaps. You need this. You need the attention on me. You need a legal and moral advantage."
No one tries to disagree with him.
The fact that Rhaenyra was not there to help him decide how to sell this does not bode well; her husband is out of practice after relying on her superior skills for so long. How exactly is he planning on selling this? Who's helping him sell this? Why would he even want to sell this?
The pin. The Tower. The reason she made Rhaenys her Hand. If we launch right into a war and Daemon leaves to get Laenor… that leaves us too vulnerable, she realizes. They need to stall before beginning open warfare — or legal warfare.
Alright, he gets another moment before she intervenes.
The old viper continues in his own smug tone. "I imagine Joffrey will be of little interest to you after all is decided. The Velaryons are not interested in a battle for the skies they cannot hope to win. As that fool Beesbury apparently said, 'We're fighting for the truth.'"
Her husband is genuinely aghast. "He did not."
The old viper ignores him. "And the truth… does not favour your stepsons, does it? Anyone with eyes that see that. Everyone will see that."
"Enough," says Alicent, stepping further int the pyre. "For once in your life, even though your motivations are self-interested, you are acting in the interest of the realm, My Prince. We have no desire for needless bloodshed."
"Yes," Daemon says. "And my son's claims would not be so easily challenged in a Grand Council."
Rhaenyra has had enough of this vague speech. "Daemon, what the fuck is happening?"
Alicent approaches her. "Your Uncle is signing his confession, in exchange for his life, freedom and safety in exile, and custody of his sons,"
The shark scoffs. "More like custody of their claims and their dragons."
"I do not lower myself to confessions before the Faith," her husband says. "I am simply signing a formal acknowledgement of the charges brought against me and the consequences that entails."
She tries to start one of their silent conversations they are so practiced at, but her husband is still too far away, the night is still too dark, for her to make out much of his face.
Which means she has no idea how she is meant to respond. She is in this blind. Again. She settles for a base emotion of exasperation, which is always a safe bet when her husband is involved. "Daemon, why?" she sighs, both out of annoyance and as a hint that he needs to better justify his position. She has to fight the urge to rub her face and accidentally reveal that Cole forgot to secure the cuffs to her waist.
"The wise sailor flees the storm as it gathers, does he not?"
"Please," says the old viper. "You're abandoning a sinking ship and taking as much as you can."
Daemon actually ignores him. But he refuses to look at Rhaenyra. She knows not if it's for the Hightower's benefit or his own. "I cannot impede Jace's claim. He is still your son; there is no disputing that. What he does with it lies with him now. And he doesn't exactly want much to do with me right now."
"He choked Jacaerys," the shark gloats. "The Velaryons were furious."
That does lift her from despair for a moment, at least. The dragon wakes. "Daemon," she growls. "Were I not in chains right now…"
"When has that stopped you?"
"Daemon!"
"He's alright! No bruises!" he says as if it makes it better. "I might have a problem with self-control," he admits. "And I think I end up punishing the messenger." With the last word he does look at her.
She's so furious she almost asks the shark to set her loose so she might kill him herself. Or at the least… No. Choking him wouldn't do; he'd just enjoy it. Mayhaps she could break both his hands? But they are standing on a pyre between two dragons. He's taken this risk for a reason. More importantly, it is more than their own lives at stake in this conflict.
He came here with a message. She needs to let him deliver it. "Daemon," she prompts him. "Why are you here?"
It appears that she is lacking in information that the others possess, because no one seems to question the motivation behind his actions.
Fortunately for Rhaenyra's sanity, the shark is dying to fill her in. "He has no choice. Your family disowned him. His daughters disowned him. The Velaryons have cast him aside. Because they were finally able to prove it."
"Prove what," she asks, already knowing where this is going.
The green viper is now too close, close enough to look her in the eye. "That you overheard us speaking the truth, that night in the Tower," she says. "I'm sorry, Rhaenyra, I truly am." She truly is. Which makes it all the more irritating.
"No no," says her husband. "That evidence was fabricated. All your lies did was give that meddling Beesbury an interest in snooping around my finances. Just because he found something, does not mean you knew."
The green viper looks down and picks at her cuticles. "It matters not," she tells herself. "You are guilty. We all knew it."
Not bad, Rhaenyra acknowledges. And they're clearly working together, which is progress from the last disaster. This could be promising.
But now a more important question arises. How does Rhaenyra sell this?
She looks to Daemon, both for a hint of what she should do and because it's expected of her. "Daemon?" she asks in as weak and unsure a voice as she can manage.
He steps forward so she can see more of his face; the men tense. He fixes her with a stare that must mean, these words have two meanings. "I'm sorry Rhaenyra," he says genuinely. "This is my fault. I wanted you so much that I acted rashly. I didn't do it the right way. And now it's my job to make this right."
"Prince Daemon apologizes," says the old viper. "Have the Seven Hells frozen over?"
"Tell me, leech. Since I'm cleaning a mess, could I borrow the mop my dear wife so likely fooled you with?"
The green viper coughs. No one corrects him, and he laughs. "I knew it."
He turns back to her, and his voice turns solemn. "It was me, Rhaenyra. I paid Qarl. I thought his plans to sail beyond Asshai meant I was safe. But then Lyman found the accounts and managed to link the payment. I should have killed him, or at the least covered my tracks better. I'm sorry that you are the one to pay the price."
She does not pretend to be devastated. She does not force herself to collapse. His words have two meanings, and she catches the one meant for her. 'Going to try something,' indeed.
It's going to be a long time. It's going to be too long. They might not reach her before…
They might not reach her before she drowns.
She sinks further into despair, and the shark graciously catches her. "Oh gods," she gasps in a way that no one can fake.
"I cannot believe it," says the shark. "She truly did not know." He's too distracted to notice her lapse that revealed her hands can reach her face. She puts them back down before anyone else can.
"I'm sorry, Rhaenyra," says the viper always apologizing. She's gotten even closer and attempts to assist the shark with her weight, but she recoils from both of them and forces herself upright.
She has just enough sense remaining to understand that Daemon's words were precise. He knows what he's doing, for once. He's thought about it, mayhaps even practiced. All she need to is prompt him. Which is fortunate, because she cannot at the moment manage much beyond choking out the word, "Daemon?"
"This was inevitable, I see now. Foresight has never been one of my skills. But it has to be this way, Rhaenyra. We cannot win like this. The Velaryons will never work with me, not as long as they know I killed their son. But mayhaps in a war of words and ravens… you might have a chance without me."
He looks around. "And hopefully it will ease any urge you might have to mistreat her with my reaction in mind."
"What are you talking about?" the green viper asks.
Daemon tosses some kind of container over to the green viper. "That little note was wedged into Rhaenyra's ring. Have a look when you're back in the light. Try to contain yourselves. Do not use what you see as past slights to justify taking… unnecessary liberties."
The shark chuckles under its breath.
"Can we get on with the formalities?" the old viper asks.
"Very well," Daemon agrees. "But you will not have my seal until I leave. I'll toss down a copy from Caraxes."
"How can we trust that he will?" the shark accuses.
"Because no one, neither you nor the Velaryons, will ever leave me alone if I don't."
"Alone to what.," the shark asks. "Accumulate power in Essos? Bide your time until your return? You're up to something."
"Which is why he cannot have Joffrey," the old viper reminds him. "His sons have no claim once he signs. Whatever else his plans are, and to be certain, he does have them, we can account for them."
"We've already put a stop to his latest plan," Larys says from the shadows. She's unsure what typ of monster he is as of yet. "He'd already emptied the hatchery of half its eggs before we put it into our terms that they remain on Dragonstone. Even the Velaryons were unaware of his plan to abscond with them."
The old viper turns to Daemon. "Just a reminder that we have eyes everywhere." Then he turns to Rhaenyra. "I'll have a copy of the papers sent to your suite. It will kindly disabuse you of any false hope."
"I need no false hope," Rhaenyra argues as she's likely expected to do. "Rhaenys and Jacaerys will prevail. I'll remind you that the Velaryons now have no reason to wish me ill."
"Please," the shark scoffs. "Should they call for a Council, his lineage will be obvious. Should they call for a war, the disparity will be obvious. The Velaryons now have only two battle-ready dragons."
"I'll have you know," Daemon snaps. "Moondancer is perfectly ready for a fight. As is her rider. In fact, she lurks in the skies right now."
"What!" Aegon yells. Everyone else jumps and looks to the sky.
Daemon laughs. "I only jest. She has more important matters to attend to, much like your pretender King. Although… I imagine her matters are not quite as serious. I do believe she has a valuable wedding present she means to deliver."
Both the old viper and the shark bristle.
"Still," Daemon continues. "No need to discount my daughter based on her sex, though I know it is a pattern of yours."
The old viper clears his throat. "Right then, three fighting dragons. But still… quite the disparity."
The shark grunts an agreement. The green viper says nothing.
Daemon allows only the Septon to approach him. He spares but a cursory glance at the scroll before signing. As he said, he does not seal it. She wonders if Daemon even bothered to craft loopholes into the language, or if he is simply planning to set the papers on fire and say, 'What paper?'. She knows the answer immediately. She wonders if anyone else thought to craft loopholes into the language. At any rate, she reckons that Laenor will make for quite the loophole.
But she will have drowned by then. This is for her family, not for her.
"You're surprisingly casual," the old viper says once he's finished.
"It's a piece of paper."
"That was always your weakness, I suppose. Your inability to see the power in the pen and paper."
"No one cares," Daemon declares. "Moving on. I trust the Velaryons sent her clothes? I just want to ensure you don't do anything fucked up like dressing her all in green."
The shark actually seems disappointed.
"Yes, Daemon," says the green viper. "I need only search thoroughly first."
"By all means. Rhaena is not the scheming type."
Rhaenyra barely holds back a laugh.
"In fact, I heard she even included a gift for you lot." Daemon turns to her. Her eyes have adjusted to the dim moonlight enough to see that he looks into her eyes to emphasize certain words without vocally emphasizing them. "I said to include your rubies, but Rhaena has claimed them for herself. She says they make her feel connected to you. She has resolved to wear them until you reunite."
Rhaenryra takes one small precious breath of hope. Better Rhaena than Daemon, she supposes. Still, she has no idea how to receive a message. And Rhaena… Rhaena is a beginner. "It's fine," Rhaenyra says. "I'm… glad she has them. I would have little use for them here."
"Rhaenyra," the green viper chides. "That is not necessarily so. You will have more freedom soon."
"Still," Daemon says and continues to emphasize words with eye contact only. "She found something similar to include. Mayhaps you'll learn to like it just as much."
She nods and for a time wonders exactly how they will attempt to sneak the candle in. But then she remembers those fucking gargoyles. How is she supposed to attempt Valyrian fucking sorcery for the first time whilst their eyes track her every movement?
"You're stalling," the old viper accuses.
"Of course," Daemon says. "I'm trying to extend our last moments together. Is that such a crime?"
"Everything you do is a crime," the shark tries to quip.
"Thank you."
The old viper loses patience. "Let us get on with this. The hour grows late."
"Very well," Daemon agrees. "Clear the way."
And they do. They clear the space between her and Daemon so that they have the corner where Caraxes' side meets the ocean's side to themselves. The other men back up either behind the pyre to Sunfyre's side, or towards the wall. The old viper returns to the shadows.
The shark remains at her side, of course. As does the green viper.
There must be more to this meeting than doublespeak. Knowing her husband's fondness for declaring that "this meeting could have been a raven," she has to assume there is more behind this. Otherwise, it could have been a note with two meanings.
She smiles, expecting Daemon to close the distance. Instead, he places a hand on Dark Sister's hilt and gives a warning glance to each of the men. Then he puts his fingers to his mouth and does the dragon-call whistle.
"What's happening?" Rhaenyra asks.
"Goodbyes," the shark says.
"But it does not have to be, Rhaenyra," says the green viper. "You have the choice here. Daemon won't push if you argue."
"What?" she asks. But then her question is immediately answered when Stormcloud lands between her and Daemon.
With Aegon. With five-year-old-Aegon. With five-year-old Aegon on a saddle. With five-year-old Aegon on a makeshift saddle that has clearly been crafted from ropes, nets, and a horse's saddle. Five-year-old Aegon on a makeshift saddle that has clearly been crafted from ropes, nets, and a horse's saddle lands on the pyre surrounded by enemies.
Rhaenyra doesn't know where to start, so she starts from a place of familiarity. "Daemon," she growls.
Daemon puts his hands up. "I had no part in this," he says. "Well, I brought him here, but I had no part in this," he gestures to Stormcloud. "You'll have to register a complaint with Baela. I wouldn't recommend that though. She's scary. And mean — in a painfully accurate way that will likely haunt you for the rest of your life. Trust me, you don't want that. More importantly, you don't need that." And then he does stare into space looking somewhat haunted.
She sighs, because she can do little else.
"He's not dismounting," Daemon warns the shark. He barely even looks at her now; he's busy warding off the other men with his body language — and his hand on Dark Sister's hilt. "You meet him as he is. No sword."
The old viper's shadow nods. The shark huffs but does not argue. Stormcloud is little more than a flying pony, after all. Rhaenyra imagines the baby dragon flew here riderless and latched to Caraxes' tail. The shark disarms and leads Rhaenyra as close to Stormcloud as the chain will allow. The green viper follows, likely to protect her.
Stormcloud crawls the rest of the distance. Alicent recoils but does not leave. The shark rips away her shawl and exposes her arms to the cold autumn air. "No passing secret notes. No passing anything," he warns.
"Congra-chu-lay-shuns, Crispin. Nothing gets by you," her five-year-old says in his best impression of his father's sarcastic voice.
Daemon does not even applaud their son, he's still focused on warding off the men.
Everyone is so on edge; this could turn ugly at any moment. And Rhaenyra has to wonder, what would drive everyone to this? What would make them so… reckless? Desperate? But she loses the thought when she looks at her son. She looks to Aegon, who looks so unsure yet so determined to be brave. She looks to Aegon and she is fully awake.
She does not wake as a dragon; she wakes as a mother. But she has never felt like the two were very different.
She smiles reassuringly to her son and smooths his hair. The shark lets go of her arm for a moment, and she leans over the tiny pony dragon for a hug. She buries her face in his hair and takes the longest breath she's ever managed, trying to memorize his scent.
The dragon does give them some distance from eavesdroppers, and Aegon takes advantage of this. He pretends to cling to her for sentimentality and whispers Valyrian into her ear. "Kepa has a potion to stop eggs."
Rhaenyra shivers, but she rubs his back to tell him to continue.
"Little one for one moon if you have to hide it in your mouth, or big one for many moons if you have an idea. Think and tell Viserys."
She nods to release him from his duty. Then he becomes a child once more and burrows into her. "Muña?"
"Yes?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Good."
They pull back, and Aegon sees her. "What happened to your face?" he asks.
She has no idea how to answer. With all the tea she'd been drinking, she'd forgotten that the bruise was still there. She hopes that her ability to chew means it's at least no loner swollen or black. That would have been a sight to traumatize Aegon.
Fortunately, Daemon overhears. "Ser Crispin is very clumsy. And very cowardly. He saw a rat and got so scared that he jumped onto a table! Then he fell onto your mother."
"Oh. That makes sense. Kepa says he's an... a-de-ku-wat fighter but a bad knight."
She takes a shark bite for that comment, obviously. The shark remains latched on after as well. But it was worth it.
Aegon's earlier question was sincere, but these words seem more rehearsed. "Kepa says we're going to stay with Uncle Addam and Aunt Alys in Volantis!"
"Oh?"
"Yes! He says Aunt Alys has a giant garden of lykāpas perzot and that's where our lykāpas perzot come from!"
Pentos. Their lykāpas perzot comes from the garden of the Prince of Pentos. Good. A safer trip than all the way to Volantis. And she didn't like the idea of her sons being alone with Stormcloud and a dragon egg in a city with so many Targaryen bastards. Pentos was better.
Aegon continues. "And Addam is going to teach us to sail as good as Elissa Farmon!"
"You might have your work cut out for you to go that far."
Seven Hells, Laenor. How far?
How long?
Big one for many moons… Daemon does not know either, she realizes. She forces herself not to shiver; she basks in the warmth of her son.
"When are we going to see you?" he asks. "Kepa just keeps saying that the future is tricky and that's why the source-heirs stopped looking in the glass candles for it."
She'll give him credit, he really made certain the message came through.
Both she and Aegon realize she didn't answer. "So?" he asks.
"Your father is right, for once," Rhaenyra says. "The future is made of glass, and promises are fragile; you must carry them with care. Right now, can you just promise me you'll enjoy yourself on your adventure? And listen to your fathe— wait. No. Listen to whatever responsible adult is around. Listen to your father if he's being very very very very serious. Otherwise, think about what I would want you to do."
He does. She looks at his saddle anew. It did look secure, if haphazard. "Who made this?"
"Baela." And then he starts bouncing. "She said she learned knots on Driftmark! Kepa tried to leave us behind to rescue Lord Bee's Berry but Baela said that they needed all of us so me, Joffrey and Baela flew to the standoff and we threatened Dreamfyre and made Vhagar stand down!"
I refuse to die of a heart attack. I refuse to die of a heart attack. I refuse to traumatize my son by dying of a heart attack right now.
She cannot even yell, 'Daemon!' this time. The gods have seen fit to deprive her of her go-to response.
"And Kepa was so angry because Baela and Rhaena are supposed to stay in the castle because Hightowers are evil women-stealing grapists that don't understand oranges!"
She gets some satisfaction from seeing Alicent tear her hands apart. She still refuses to leave though. That woman must love pain.
She doesn't think Aegon has taken a breath since he started. "And then Jace fainted because he forgot to eat and Kepa tried to drop him in the ocean to wake him up and save his manhood so people wouldn't know that he fainted but Baela stopped him and Kepa had to carry him and he was very grumpy about it and said that's he's getting too old for this nonsense."
"Oh wow!" Rhaenyra could sympathize with that last sentiment. "Have you thought about a real saddle?"
"Kepa says I'll have one in Essos! I haven't used this one much. Just that time and then to stop Joffrey fro—" Aegon chokes on his words and looks around uncomfortably.
"Aegon," Daemon says without turning away from the men. "Do you want to tell Muña about what you made?"
His eyes light up again. "Oh! Viserys will bring them. We said it wasn't fair that Rhaena gets to choose because of course she chooses that the older four get to pack that stupid reading light they made for your name day even though it's ugly so we should get to give you something too so we made dragon eggs using quail eggs and the volcano concrete from Dragonstone but they weren't ready in time for the trunk but they almost weren't even ready for now so you cannot get them wet for…" he remembers to breathe. "For two days until the varnish dries because the first time we tried to make them we heard that you mix the volcano dust with lime so we squeezed actual limes into the mix and when we took them out of the mould they fell apart!"
"Oh no!" Reading light? Interesting. But what about the gargoyles?
The green viper is crying but she still does not leave. The shark is behaving at the least. Rhaenyra appreciates that the shark knows it is a shark. It might even start circling, but at least it's in a self-aware way.
Aegon decides to use all his breath again. "And then when we asked and they told us the masons wouldn't give us the lime by itself because it can burn us and when we said we'd bring it to Kepa to mix they said that was worse than a child doing it and they heard he was already 'burned at the pyre' so we had to wait until one was free to mix it for us… but we did the rest! You'll see! But Kepa says we have to hand it to the green bitch because the Hightowers are paranoid because they're embarrassed they got tricked by a mop!"
Since she could assume everything was calculated, she also assumed that Daemon had let Aegon continue to rant after the 'reading light' to assure the Hightowers that these were indeed an actual craft to appease children and nothing nefarious. This part did not seem rehearsed, so she does not try to discern much double meaning except… burned at the pyre… did he fish the rubies out whilst the pyre was still hot? She would not be surprised.
She smooths his hair once more. "I cannot wait to see them!"
"Rhaenyra," the green viper dares to interrupt. "Listen. This need not be a goodbye."
This earns a head turn from Daemon. "What?"
"They have no claim now; they are technically illegitimate. They can stay with you! We've all agreed. It was the plan from the beginning anyways. To dispatch with Prince Daemon—"
"Thank you," says Daemon.
"And have your youngest sons remain with you. Mayhaps one betrothed to Jaehaera. Or they could occupy positions of honour as Septons or Maesters."
Rhaenyra and Daemon look to each other, then they look to the old viper; he nods. They look to the shark; he shrugs. Then they look back to each other, and then to Aegon.
Rhaenyra, Daemon, Aegon, Aegon, Caraxes, Stormcloud, and Sunfyre all double over in laughter.
Daemon is the first to recover his breath. Almost. "You want… my sons… to be a Septon! And a Maester!"
Rhaenyra catches her breath. "Oh no no no, not when they could marry a Hightower! See that's what these chains are for; I just wanted to marry a Hightower so badly, they have to keep me contained."
Aegon the Elder takes the longest to recover because he'd apparently been taking a drink at the time. Finally, someone needs to toss a water flask atop Sunfyre for him. "I told you! I tried to warn them, Rhaenyra, but they did not listen! No one but Rhaenyra ever listens to Aegon!"
Rhaenyra is inclined to agree. Th green viper confirms this by ignoring him in favour of Aegon the Younger.
"Aegon," she tries. "Don't you want to stay with your mother?"
"Fuck you! The only way I'm coming back to this vipers nest is if I accidentally fly around the world and ram my dragon up your father's ass! And that could take moons! So no." That was definitely rehearsed. Aegon struggles with the word around.
"Can I come?" Aegon the Elder shouts. Several Hightowers tell him to hold his tongue.
And that could take moons. Rhaenyra loses her breath again.
"Rhaenyra," the green viper thinks she reasons. "If your sons are here, you could mayhaps even ride Syrax again!"
And then she knows why the green viper pushed for this meeting, and why the Council let her. Daemon draws his sword. "Aegon, take off now. Go wait behind Caraxes. You can watch his back."
"But—"
"Now, Aegon," Rhaenyra orders. She spares the time for one forehead kiss before seeing him into the air.
He circles above them a few times first, though. "Watch out, old Aegon! Baela's not the only one who can do that!"
"Seven Hells! Alright! Leave my manhood alone!"
"Yah! We all do triple-loop fun-time flying lessons and volcano climbing!"
"Can you two adopt me?"
"Only if you like getting strangled!" the shark shouts.
"I do!"
Rhaenyra does not bother to whisper, but she does keep her voice low enough so that not everyone hears. She looks to Daemon. "He's a rapist, right?"
"Yes."
"I truly do not know how to engage with this."
The shark bites her. The green viper pretends not to hear them. She's less annoyed with the shark.
Rhaenyra turns to the green viper. "Did you really think you'd convince me into letting you use my sons as leverage for my behaviour? Do you think I'm stupid? Or that selfish?"
"Rhaenyra, that is not the way I meant it."
Daemon disagrees. ."I'm going to need the rest of you to back up some more," he says. "I think you understand."
The shark actually sighs. The shark is mayhaps embarrassed at how blatant an attempt that was. The shark is trying to save face. "It's alright," he says. "Even Valyrian steel isn't cutting this iron. It's too thick. Take two more steps."
Daemon calls to ensure that Aegon indeed did hide behind Caraxes.
"Right," the shark says. "Like you don't have your friends from the City Watch already watching his back.
"Like you don't have more Hightower men hiding behind that dragon." He sheathes his sword and returns to Caraxes. She's honestly miffed that he would still risk it, but she also cannot bear to say no. She also knows that a mother saying goodbye for forever should not be able to say no. She tells herself that the ruse is why she does not stop him.
Mayhaps I am that selfish.
No. Her strength is returning to her. Should they get too close to Viserys, she'll just strangle Alicent until they backed away. She resolves to keep her within arms reach, should it come to that.
Daemon approaches with Viserys, who holds a small basket in his hands. "Step back Cole. If you're so concerned about passing secrets, your bitch can supervise."
"You too then."
Both men keep equal distance, and Daemon draws his sword once again. No one else dares. It is fare, considering what transpired with Aegon. Viserys approaches Rhaenyra and the green viper.
What drove them to this? This is so risky for both sides. Something clearly drove them to this.
But Viserys has reached her, and she puts the thought down so she might hold her son.
They've kneeled onto the pyre — both dresses are definitely done for — and Viserys crawls into her lap. He hands the basket to Alicent so she can later have the Grandmaester inspect it to prevent 'illicit exchanges.'
Viserys then points to Alicent's lap. "So we made these so we can all be in the same nest even when we aren't!" And he proceeds to identify which 'dragon' egg is each family member. Even Corlys and Rhaenys get one. So does Laenor. "The Sea Snake gave us this hard sea shell from the Hall of Nine for his but he says it's not allowed to go next to Caraxes and I asked him if he didn't like Caraxes and he said 'if the shoe fits.'
He did not. He did not tell them using the shoe story. He did not tell them their son was alive using that stupid shoe story.
Rhaenyra sighs. He definitely used the shoe story.
The green viper gives her a look of 'understanding,' after her sigh, likely attributing it to… the other half of the shoe story.
Rhaenyra points to what looks like pink egg. It's a little hard to be certain in the moonlight. "Who's this?"
"Oh, we told Rhaena to choose her favourite because there can only be one per person in the nest but it counts if she keeps it separate and next to her bed. She chose that one because it reminds her of a sunrise and it looks like a cross between Syrax and Caraxes."
Did he finally give up on that ridiculous Vhagar plan?
"It probably is," she tells him. "And what about that one?" She points to the green goose egg that sits amongst the tin concrete eggs.
"Oh, this is for both Laena and Grandsire Baelon. Vhagar is a real goose egg because she's big and stupid but has a thin skin and won't live much longer."
Daemon interrupts. "No no. No Vhagar in the nest. Get rid of it." It does not seem rehearsed.
Apparently, he did give up on it.
"Very well." Viserys stands, picks up Vhagar, and whips it at the Hightower men. It does hit the old viper's face but unfortunately does not break until it hits the ground. The whole part reeks of planning, but it has Joffrey written all over it, not Daemon. Viserys's smug smile confirms as much.
Two imbeciles laugh, as do their dragons. Daemon and Caraxes grow solemn first; Aegon and Sunfyre take a bit longer.
No one objects though. No one. The shark does not bite her. The green viper will not look at her; also, she's crying again.
Something happened. Something motivated this meeting.
But she puts it aside, because the nest gives her a chance to pass on crucial information. "This is perfect, Viserys. And I even have the perfect place for it, once I clean the cobwebs off."
Daemon turns to her and nods ever-so-slightly to indicate that he knows she refers to her father's model. But she knows the hard truth in her heart before she sees it on his face. In terms of a rescue, it's probably the worst place she could be.
Soon the old viper tells her their time is up, and Viserys comes in for a hug. But first, he takes a deep breath and looks the most serious he's ever looked. He looks her in the eye and nods then positions his ear to listen. "Big one," she whispers. "Ser Harrold." She tries very hard not to think about the implications of that package. Her father's daughter indeed.
"That's enough," the old viper calls impatiently — and tiredly. He likely goes to bed with the sunset.
Viserys comes in for a cheek kiss and one more whisper "Worry not, there is a safety cord."
What?
And then he makes his way back to Daemon.
Rhaenyra and the green viper rise. They're both covered in oils. "Alicent?"
She is coherent at least. "Yes?"
"Could you hand that basket over to Ser Harrold? You're covered in oil, and I don't trust anyone else with it."
She nods and motions to leave.
"Just call him over. I need you here to keep Cole in check."
She does. No one objects. She's willing to bet that is once again a tourney sword in his belt. Also, Ser Harrold for certain thinks Daemon is guilty. He's probably the closest to a neutral party they have.
Daemon sheathes his sword and seems to fidget with it for a time. He kneels down to Viserys, who whispers into his ear. Daemon looks thoughtful. "Right," he says. "My turn then. Before you try anything stupid, remember my seal still remains on Caraxes. I know you Hightowers care about stupid things like that. Also, we all burn."
"Sword," the old viper reminds him. The shark returns to her side, also without his sword.
"Oh, right." He removes his belt. "Here you go Viserys. Go wait on the dragon." And then he hands Dark Sister to the three-year-old.
Viserys takes it quite skillfully, with one hand around the hilt. He unsheathes it by the few inches the cord presumably allows and looks the old viper dead in the eye. "I wouldn't fuck with me," he advises.
"Honestly Rhaenyra!" the green viper cries. "I beg you to reconsider!"
"I'm sorry to say," says Ser Harrold, "I think I have to agree, Your Grace."
Half the men present mumble agreements, including the shark and the old viper.
By the time the Hightowers are finished being offended, Viserys has toddled back to Caraxes. He climbs up into the saddle the way he has many-a-time. A shadow pops up and takes the sword, buckles Viserys in, and ducks back into wherever they came from. With all the dragon-related and daemon-related distractions, Rhaenyra thinks herself the only one to notice.
Since none seem inclined to back against Sunfyre, Daemon waits for the Hightowers to back against the wall — everyone except the shark, the green viper, and Ser Harrold.
Daemon gestures to the shark's sheathed sword that rests against the pillar. "Alicent, do you want to move that away for me?"
She does. But then she returns. Because of course she does.
Daemon does one final sweep for threats, then apparently deems it as safe as it will ever be. And then he looks to her. She shivers in the cold, fresh air, and lets it stream into her lungs. The shark clutches her arm firmer than ever, but she pays him little mind.
He approaches and stops just out of reach. He takes in their surroundings: the men, the pyre, the dragons. And he laughs. "I suppose you did say, we were always meant to burn together."