RHAENA

Morning pulls her out of the sun a moment before the knock does. She sighs. She had been trying day and night for a week, and still feels as if she's made no progress. "Enter!"

Jace looks just as tired as she feels, but he still spares a moment to give Morning a scratch.

She regards him. "It's quite early in the morning to be returning home," she says.

"I made camp in the mountains. Unpredictable, remember?" He looks around. "Rhaenys and Grandsire?"

"Driftmark, again."

"I thought High Tide was dealt with?"

"The island. Grandsire is well enough to make the rounds and ensure no other kin deigns to challenge his heir. Again." It was not lost upon any of them that Vaemond had also sought to supersede both Baela and Rhaena's claims, after all. And right now is a particularly precarious time to be a female heir.

Grateful for the break, Rhaena uses the single skill she'd acquired after a week of painstaking practice and extinguishes the candle. In truth, she has little idea of how she even does so, other than wish for it in the correct way she'd happened upon. She says as much to Jace.

"Mayhaps it's like… learning to raise your brows," he says. "Or learning to whistle. When you find the muscle you know, but until then, it's like magic."

"I suppose."

Jace flops onto the sofa. "You think Jof will give me the day off training?"

"Unlikely. Mushroom is really rising to the task. He can manage the office whilst Jof is with you."

Jace gives her a smile. "I think you should join us. After I nap."

"You're funny." Rhaena wonders just how much of this new 'training regime' is simply her father and Jof having their fun. After reviewing exactly how Baela accomplished her vault, Father had decided that all their dragonriders should hone their endurance and climbing skills on the dragonmont — which at least made some sense. But he had also left word that until he returned, the skill Jace must focus on is running away from a fight, which for some reason had meant Jof chasing an armour-clad Jace around with a stick.

She decides to change the topic before she can be dragged into it. "Updates?"

"Riverrun wouldn't even let me in," Jace says. "Though I did hear one of the men whisper that once the old man dies, his grandson will likely declare for Mother. Whatever declaring for Mother means."

Deciding that Jace is likely far more exhausted than she is, Rhaena takes out the organizer and fills in a fresh index card with the new information. She has no doubt Lord Beesbury will soon convert it to ledger form, for their 'chaotic' means of organizing gave him great pains.

"And Highgarden?" Rhaena asks. Like most of the Houses, they had simply declared for 'Queen Rhaenyra.'

"I do not think Lady Tyrell means to involve herself on either side, should the odds find themselves more balanced." He runs through a number of smaller houses he'd spontaneously visited in the Riverlands, and those seem more promising for the future.

If they can make it that far. Rhaena turns back to the candle and relights it before her blood can dry. No need to waste a cut. Mayhaps she really should switch to leeches.

"Ah!" Jace exclaims s he averts his eyes. "It's like looking into the sun."

"Almost," Rhaena says as she stares. "But when you keep at it… it's not my eyes that burn. It's deeper. And sometimes goes right to my ears. There's just too much."

"Too much of what?"

"Everything. It's like those pictures that look like multiple things depending on how you look at them. Or depending on the lighting or which one you see first. And you know how once you see one it's easier to see again?" She suspects that's why her father and Laenor can only find each other. Barely.

"Oh," Jace says. "Like Mother's old gold silk gown with a confusing sheen that made some people think was blue."

"It was blue, Jace."

"Sure, Rhaena." He stretches and sits up. "So like that but… infinite?"

"Basically," she says, only half present as she pushes her vision as far back into her head as she can. One of these days she might actually come up cross-eyed. "But the images don't line up for you. And father says if you don't do it right it's hard to come up and align your vision."

"What about glasslighting? Dreams and visions and whatnot?"

"That's far too advanced. We're aiming low. Starting at sight. Then… I don't know. If we both figure it out we can write notes? I have no idea how to go verbal."

"But can't Daemon and Laenor… communicate?"

"Barely. And only in a slightly-useful, highly specific way because one time they got really fucked up on substances. But Father says I have to learn the right way. The ruby helps when I hold it. But I tried a lot yesterday and I… well I think Rhaenyra took it off the candle."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because yesterday I kept seeing her locket in the chaos. But I also kept seeing cats, so I don't know."

Jace jumps. "Rhaena, that's good!"

"What do you mean?"

"They were shipping cats to the Red Keep, remember? It would make sense for Mother to be around them. Which means you can somewhat see her surroundings."

She rubs the ruby the jeweller had set into a gold filigree on a pearl chain, focusing on it as hard as she can, and it strangely does seem to guide her. Some images become stronger and brighter and louder as she thinks of that ruby and Rhaenyra's necklace and Rhaenyra, but no one image comes out of the light, the light that she lets push her further and further back until it all becomes too much.

She looks away. "Fuck."

"Do you want me to try?" Jace offers. "I am more… visually oriented." Which is a nice way of saying that he is a much better artist.

"Jace, I don't think you should. We need at least one of us to be somewhat normal and well-adjusted for the moment. And you're the one who can fly."

"If it's too much I'll stop. It doesn't seem fair to saddle your poor eyes with it."

How does Rhaena say that should he succeed, he might wish he didn't? Rhaena had conveniently neglected to inform Jace that her father had basically sent Rhaenyra as many tools as he could that would help her charm the pretender. Rhaena herself is not looking forward to accidentally succeeding too much at the wrong moment.

Rhaena is afraid of what she will see. Rhaena is afraid to truly look.

Fuck.

She looks to Jace, and Morning who'd perched upon him. Both eye her with confusion and concern after her lack of response. It cannot be him. He's still traumatized from the Table incident. But their grandparents are too… advanced in experience to alter the way they see.

Baela would not have held herself back. Baela would have jumped right in, no fucks given, no boundaries worth stopping for, like she does with much else. Baela would have done what she need do for their family, without letting fear hold her back.

Baela jumped onto a dragon. Rhaena can jump into this. For Rhaenyra. Because Rhaenyra is there, experiencing whatever Rhaena is afraid to even see.

She looks to Morning again. I'm a dragon too. And she might also be a dragon with a blood magic ruby, whatever that might mean. She closes her eyes, breathes in and thinks of the ruby she holds, breathes out and thinks of Rhaenyra.

She looks into the sun.

"Rhaena?"

She relays the single image before it becomes too much and falls away. "She's on a beach."

ALICENT

"Ah, the ocean," her brother says. "Her Grace returns to an old friend." Several Hightower men chuckle.

"What was that?" Aemond challenges from behind them.

Alicent turns around to face the King and Queen. "I thought we might see if Rhaenyra can handle something more rigorous." They'd resumed their nascent habit this morning, and Alicent had planned a longer course to test Rhaenyra's hopefully-improving health. And perhaps her attitude. Aemond needs all the help he can get taming this dragon.

Helaena, who'd decided to join them and had been walking on Rhaneyra's other side, skips ahead. Aemond then turns to Rhaenyra. "Do you want to leave?"

"No." As she suspected, Rhaenyra is too proud to ask him to turn back. But she does lay the 'hidden' fragility on a little thick. Aemond seems either not to notice or not to mind, and Alicent decides not to jeopardize Rhaenyra's delicate position by interfering, so long as it does not escalate to overt manipulation.

And then Rhaenyra returns in full. "So long as Alicent doesn't find need for my cloak." Acknowledging that Rhaenyra is trying to retain as much of her precious pride as she can whilst also being terrified and embarrassed of being terrified, and likely sees Alicent as an easy target to direct that confusing energy, she resolves to also let Rhaenyra's enduring bitterness go.

The gods are certainly testing her.

They'd already sent scouts ahead, and the closer men fan out to further secure the beach. Ser Harrold confronts her. "Here? Really?" And when she looks him in the eye she sees he knows exactly what she did. And then he looks back to his Queen who walks ahead, his face rigid with pain.

"You did right by me," Rhaenyra had assured him when he'd seen the sling and was overcome with horror. "You followed my orders." And for a moment Alicent had traded a look with Aemond, a look that said that Rhaenyra should not have to order her guard to not protect her. Hopefully, Ser Criston's punishment will send a message — Rhaenyra is under their protection.

Alicent and Ser Harrold lag behind the couple, but remain in earshot for a time. Though they'd decided Rhaenyra did not need to be held at all times whilst injured, Aemond takes her left arm reassuringly. "I promise, nothing like that will happen again," he says for all the men to hear. He pointedly looks around before turning back to her.

She cannot see Rhaenyra's face, but she does slightly curl into herself and turn to face him for a moment, then look to the ground as she nods just a bit too demurely for Rhaenyra. No sarcasm follows.

How sweetly the fox speaks when it's been cornered by hounds. But so long as she acknowledges who stands between her and the hounds, Alicent supposes it does not matter. She does worry that Aemond's protection will embolden her and she makes a note to sit Rhaenyra down and explain that this time will not be like how it was with her father. Best Alicent let herself remain the villain, rather than force Aemond to balance to two.

Curiously, the King and Queen both then take in their surroundings and look to each other. "Give us some air," Aemond says. And even though they all do, Alicent is quite certain they converse in Valyrian. From what she can infer from their body language, it almost seems as if Aemond seeks… advice.

Alicent strays to their side for a better look, careful not to let the waves lap at her feet. And from their faces she does definitely come away with a sense of collusion. But Aemond is wiser than his brother, and Alicent lets it go. Besides, with that collusion also comes a familiarity between the two that Alicent is grateful to finally see.

Most important is what she sees in Rhaenyra, because Rhaenyra finally seems almost at ease. Aside from a clip, she wears her hair wavy and loose and windblown. Her face is relaxed and her cheeks are alive from the brisk morning air. Alicent had missed this Rhaenyra. She had not seen this Rhaenyra for a long time. Not since she'd lived at Court.

In fact, Rhaenyra looks too similar to when she'd lived at Court. Alicent had been reminded yesterday of all the choices her family had made in regard to her wardrobe. Aside from the ghastly 'gowns' Viserys had eventually been forced to ask her not to wear among courtiers, most of her clothing meant for public outings were in Velaryon colours. And that includes the distinctly Velaryon-light-blue cloak she wears, the one of velvet and telltale embroidery of seahorses and shells. People would know her as a Velaryon even from a distance.

It wasn't Rhaenyra's fault; she only wears what she'd been given. But the problem remains the same. For the Greens, the clothes are clearly meant to help her play soft. But to the public, the Blacks are clearly trying to present her as an innocent and betrayed Velaryon widow. And by that logic, Velaryon mother.

Which would matter little, if they were not constantly fending off near-misses and distant encounters. She sends the royal couple ahead and follows her brother to fend off yet another.

"We were just partaking in some early morning fishing!" Lord Caswell's voice calls from the rowboat not designed for fishing — but one of many available if one found need of a spontaneous trip.

"Yes," the other occupant calls, Alicent suspects it might be Lord Hayford. "And we just saw your party and thought we might pay—"

"Her Grace is not in the mood, nor health, for company," her brother declares.

Seeing that the men have it handled, Alicent continues forward. And then runs forward. To her daughter that had, with the soldiers' attention divided, clearly been left unattended.

"Helaena!" Alicent calls. "What happened?"

Helaena turns to her from the edge of the water. "What?" And then she looks down to see what Alicent sees, that somehow, one vertical half of her dress is completely soaked. "Oh, Rhaenyra's necklace just reminded me of something." She holds up a bag of something she must have gathered. "The water was shallow and I forgot that reaching down would… put me in it, even though I was above it whilst standing." She reaches her right arm down to the ground and raises her opposite leg to demonstrate.

Fortunately, Rhaenyra is not in earshot to make yet another comment on Alicent's parenting.

Alicent sighs and has Helaena brought inside with instructions to ready her apartments, and Aegon, for their meal upon the others' return. She lets Rhaenyra enjoy the fresh air and sunrise for a while more before turning them back.

Her father makes perfect time and encounters them at the drawbridge. Alicent does not care for the way he smiles. "Good morning, Your Graces. Though I'm afraid I bring unfortunate news from Dragonstone."

Rhaenyra freezes, and everyone pretends not to notice her terror.

Everyone except her father, that is. He looks directly at Rhaenyra. "I'm afraid we've just confirmed that Prince Daemon and your sons did not depart alone. Were you aware of his interest in your very own lady-in-waiting?"

Rhaenyra's terror gives way to confusion.

"Father," Alicent says. "There's no need to—"

But he pays her no mind. "Lady Elinda Massey accompanies Prince Daemon in his travels."

Rhaenyra mulls it over for a moment, and Alicent finally sees recognition flash across her face.

Did she know? Did she simply accept being disrespected in such a manner? Did Prince Daemon even bother to hide it?

Rhaenyra puts on a mask of composure. "Let Daemon slake his hungers where he will. You all would do well to do the same."

Alicent is unsurprised, but that had not been the response her father expected. "I beg your pardon?" he says.

Rhaenyra actually smiles, and then she looks to Alicent. "Because those who don't slake their hungers grow too concerned with other people's plates."

"Alright," Ser Harrold says before it can escalate. "Messages received. Moving on."

Rhaenyra steps aside to bid Ser Harrold good day, and the Hand waits until he's certain Rhaenyra cannot hear. "Daeron will not be joining us; he was out late entertaining Lord Borros." He glares at Aemond. "Because just before that, he made it clear he worried that Aemond's complete lack of control extends to the whole family." He then removes the valyrian steel dagger from his coat. "Here you are," he says as he hands it to Aemond. "But be warned, I think Jaehaera is still in there. If she decides to pummel you and take it, do try to hold on long enough for help."

Aemond responds with an icy smile.

The Hand turns his attention to the departing Lord Commander. "Remember, Ser Harrold. If asked, you do not consider yourself a man of politics. You don't even think about politics. You are simply doing your job. If you worry you're unable to answer properly, excuse yourself and say you're in a rush." He then sends him away with the retinue of soldiers Ser Harrold 'leads.'

While her father addresses Ser Harrold, Aemond had turned to Rhaenyra. She inclines her head to the Hand as if asking a question. Aemond nods.

"Is Ser Criston out there?" Jaehaera asks. The children had already broken their fast, and were preparing to leave with the maids as they enter.

"No," Aemond says. "He's… gone away for a few days.

"Oh, good," says Jaeherys. "We need to show Purrmithor around so he can find his way back if he wanders off because he's a rat-catcher." He turns to Aemond. "Wait, does his harness count if we take the collar off?"

"What does that have to do with Ser Criston?" Alicent asks.

Jaehaera decides to enlighten them. "Father says we cannot let Ser Criston see the collars because he'll 'get ideas' that Rhaenyra won't like."

Even her father partakes in the awkward silence that follows. Alicent exchanges uncomfortable looks with both him and Aemond, but not with Rhaenyra. Because the moment Rhaenyra saw the children she'd refused to look at them, and moved as far away as she could.

Jaeherys tugs at Alicent's skirt. She leans down. "I don't think Rhaenyra likes us," he whispers. Aemond hears and only then seems to realize that Rhaenyra so pointedly ignores them, and he then looks uncomfortable for a different reason.

Alicent leans back down to Jaeherys. "It's not you, I promise. She… is going through some difficulties."

Helaena, now in dry clothes, emerges to see the children out. Aegon and the droopy uncooked Pancake shuffle out from his bedchamber just as the food arrives, likely lured by the smell of bacon. Aegon is still in his nightclothes, but Alicent decides to simply consider them fortunate that he's at least wearing nightclothes this time.

Helaena helps one-armed Rhaenyra with her cloak so she can sit, and Alicent reaches to do the same for Aemond. He steps back, turns to make certain Rhaenyra isn't watching, and only then allows her to help. Because at some point Aemond decided that he didn't want Rhaenyra to see him need his mother's help with his cloak.

Alicent is unsure of how she should feel about that. But she does not dwell on it for long, because the new-yet-so-old problem she'd begun to fear yesterday awaits her.

Rhaenyra has brought two unwelcome friends to family breakfast. And that fucking locket that conspires against Alicent's sanity for a myriad of reasons — reasons Prince Daemon had no doubt thought of when he had his daughter pack it.

Aegon actually puts that cat down to gallantly pull out the chair for Rhaenyra's two friends. Aemond at first seems annoyed, but then realizes that he occupies the seat directly across from Rhaenyra's two friends. He eagerly takes it and bids them good morrow.

"Aegon," Rhaenyra says before Aegon can sit.

"Yes?" he asks down to Rhaenyra's two friends.

"Do you really want to go straight from petting a cat to touching your food?" she asks.

"Oh… right." And then Aegon goes to wash his hands before his meal. Aegon.

So was it not the power of a dragon to command the respect of another dragon that had caught Aegon in Rhaenyra's web? Has she simply been showing Aegon her friends this whole time?

Alicent takes her seat at the end of the table — next to Rhaenyra and Aemond, and across from her father. "Rhaenyra," she says pointedly, because Rhaenyra knows exactly what she's doing.

Rhaenyra had been absentmindedly surveying the table, and spares Alicent little of her attention. "Yes?"

"Aren't you cold?"

Aegon had been about to take his seat, but instead bounds away from the table. "I'll add some wood to the fire."

She should have known better than to be surprised. Rhaenyra was one to keep the clothes she liked until they wore out, and this dress was no exception. This is an older one, a 'casual' silk dress with a water-coloured pattern that resembled dragon scales. Light purple on top that deepens into violet as it reaches the skirt, that billows loose around her arms and skirt with the only nod to structure being the thick velvet sash. There would be nothing wrong with it, were it not for the wide, deep V that reaches far down her chest and is only emphasized by that locket with the chain that was just slightly too long and would slither and curve along the top of her breasts when the locket found its own support atop them. Or rather, between them.

While childbearing had done little to alter Alicent's bone structure, it had transformed Rhaenyra's. So much so that she'd had to make up an entire new wardrobe. Actually, she'd had to make up two new wardrobes, because her first 'attempt' had been completely inappropriate.

At first, Alicent had worried that Rhaenyra would be resentful towards her. Because whilst motherhood had broadened near every part of Rhaenyra's body, it had not touched Alicent's. Instead, Rhaenyra decided to compensate by trying to redirect all attention towards her breasts, to the point where Alicent would not be surprised if she'd run up to some of her closer friends and literally pointed to her chest saying, 'look at these!'

When Alicent had inquired, all Rhaenyra would say was, "it's nice to be desired for something that's mine for once, rather than something I represent." Because for reasons that must stem from various insecurities that Alicent cannot begin to fathom, Rhaenyra had always despised being regarded as a potential wife, yet seemed to relish being regarded as a potential lover.

"Also," she'd then added, "when annoying or boring people are busy staring at your chest, you don't need to pretend to pay attention to them!"

Rhaenyra had even reached out to Laena after Jace was born, asking her to procure an Essosian wardrobe with the theme of 'fertility goddess,' and Laena had not let her down. It had eventually reached a point where Alicent had to convince the King to step in. At least he did not willingly blind himself on that front. But then rumours began to spread that it was Alicent herself who put a stop to it. And whilst the wives of the Court were understanding, the men of Court were not.

"I hope you're happy," Ser Tyland had told her. "You finally managed to banish the Realm's Delights."

Apparently not, because the Realm's Delights have returned, no doubt in hopes of manipulating Alicents' sons. And the worst part, it appears to be working.

Alicent is pulled out of her ruminations by a voice. "Alicent?" Rhaenyra asks. "Are you hungry? You seem awfully fixated on my plate. Mayhaps it's time to eat."

"Rhaenyra," Alicent says. "We've had this conversation before. With the King. Your outfit is intentionally distracting."

"Not much I can do about it. This is what Rhaena packed. Probably because these are the clothes I wear most around the children."

"You wear clothes like that around the children?" her father sneers.

Rhaenyra looks to him as if he's an imbecile. "Of course. Low cuts make breastfeeding easier." Her father recoils.

Alicent calls her out. "You used a wet nurse."

"Not for Aegon and Viserys."

"Alright that's enough," her father says.

Alicent agrees, even though ending the discussion was probably exactly Rhaenyra intended. But Helaena does not. Because Helaena has an inappropriate curiosity with the matter and was always asking why she couldn't simply feed the children herself. "Wait," Helaena says. "You didn't bring Aegon to father's nameday. How did you travel?"

Rhaenyra actually does take a moment to likely ponder if she should answer. But of course she does. With nonsense, at least. "I ate Daemon's dessert. He didn't need it."

No one admits to understanding what nonsense she speaks, except for Aegon. Who trembles and puffs his cheeks and purses his lips in that stupid oh face and actually says, "Oh..." And then he drops that face and turns to glare at Aemond with unabashed resentment.

Rhaenyra plays innocent. "I thought you would appreciate that I wear my comfortable clothes rather than my… political clothes. This is what I wear when I'm not trying to prove anything."

Her father thankfully steps in. "It's inappropriate," he says.

"I'm in a casual setting with my family, does that not mean comfort is appropriate?" Rhaenyra looks around the table to her siblings. "Does anyone else find my comfort inappropriate?"

Aemond and Aegon quickly declare that there is nothing inappropriate about being comfortable at the breakfast table. Rhaenyra then turns to Alicent's last hope.

"I think it's pretty," Helaena says. "And it looks much softer and more comfortable than my dresses." She admires it for a moment. "Actually, do you think I could—"

"Yes," Aegon blurts.

"I say we let it go for now," her father says, likely in fear for the future of Helaena's wardrobe.

Rhaenyra smiles. "Good. Now, shall we all vote on what I put on my plate? Or might you slake your hungers with your own?" And then she actually tries to begin eating before Alicent has led the prayer. She doesn't even bow her head, and once Aegon sees that Rhaenyra does not, he too is emboldened to not just sit there, but also toss that doughy, demanding cat a piece of sausage.

Because they now have two members with only a left arm and hand, Alicent had made certain that all the food could be cut with the side of a fork. Until Rhaenyra decides she wants a scone with butter, something Aemond had been avoiding asking Alicent for help with. And so Rhaenyra helpfully proposes that the two one-handers work together.

Knowing Rhaenyra, she must have been strategic about her wording in a way no respectable person would understand. Because from whatever meaning might lurk beneath those words, Aegon nearly falls from his chair laughing.

"Aegon," Rhaenyra pretends to scold him. "Must you find depravity in everything?"

"Yes," he chokes out.

Her father finally manages to call the table to order, and he goes over all that will be expected of them at dinner. Rhaenyra makes her disinterest clear, but her father waits until Helaena leaves to retrieve something from her bedchamber to respond.

He glares at Rhaenyra. "Just be grateful we decided not to have you come in chains."

Aegon laughs. "From what I've heard, I think Rhaenyra has plenty of experience coming in chains."

Rhaenyra has to spit her tea back into her cup, and still ends up choking on her laughs.

Alicent's father shares her horror. Aemond just looks like he has no idea how he's supposed to react, or even how he should want to react. He finally settles for rolling his eye at everyone.

"Why would Rhaenyra come in chains?" Helaena exclaims from her doorway.

They put their quarrel aside to share panicked looks, until Rhaenyra takes action. "I… sleepwalk."

"But why would you sleepwalk at dinner?"

"Because your Grandsire and his friends are so boring, we're worried they'd put me right to sleep." That earns sniggers from both brothers, which earns them both a glare from the Hand.

Helaena considers as she approaches. "…Alright."

Rhaenyra rises. "I think we're finished. Shall we go to my quarters and leave the men to their business?"

Alicent does not recall approving that plan. From the horrified look upon her father, neither did he. Alicent had thought their companionship might start on more… supervised terms.

But before she can object, Helaena smiles and nods, then turns to her brothers. "You two are coming after the Council meeting, right?"

Aegon winks.

Oh no.

It's such a brief exchange, but Alicent does catch it. Aemond looks to Rhaenyra, and Rhaenyra nods. He straightens in his seat. "We'll be there." He then turns to the Hand. "But not the meeting. Mother and I have some affairs to attend to."

"What affairs?" her father asks before Alicent can.

Rhaenyra laughs. "You going to put him on a leash too? Far be it from me to stop you. Come, Hāedar," she then says, leading Helaena from the room.

Someone did not take long to forget herself. Not that Alicent can be surprised.

Aemond has turned to the Hand. "There wasn't anything essential on the agenda for today, was there?"

Ever eager to take control of the Council, her father assures them that there is absolutely no matter that demands their attention today, and that the King need not concern himself with such mundane affairs. Nor does he press Aemond for what their other plans might be, likely afraid of Aemond considering Rhaenyra's words.

"I too have plans," Aegon says. "I need to show Pancake the Keep. So if Aemond's not going I see no reason for me to go either."

No one objects.

But Aegon continues. "The only matter I need raise I can raise right here."

"What matter?" her father asks.

Aegon turns serious, and even appraises each of them to ensure he has their attention. He takes a few moments to compose his words. "As we all know, in order to stabilize our grip on the Iron Throne, Aemond needs to sire an heir upon Rhaenyra."

They just stare, but Aegon simply seeks to ensure they understand. Which they do.

He continues. "So, in order to sire an heir, Rhaenyra and Aemond would need to couple. But there's a problem you might not have foreseen. Because Rhaenyra," he waves his hands for emphasis, "does not want to."

"I— Aegon…" Alicent starts. But she does not know where to go. Neither does anyone else.

Except for Aegon. He picks up Pancake as if to make a point. Pancake just relaxes, dough oozing between Aegon's fingers. "Now… it took awhile, but Rhaenyra did eventually manage to explain it to me. And apparently, not every cat is like Pancake. Some cats care more than others about being touched or like to be or don't like to be touched in different ways."

At least Alicent now knows where to start. "Aegon, why are you talking about cats?"

"Because I'm a Pancake," he says with a silent obviously. "And I've been assuming everyone else is also a Pancake. But most people, like most cats, are not Pancakes." He once again appraises his stunned audience before proceeding to his grand revelation. "And here's the problem. For most people, many people, mayhaps all people in some way or another… being forced to couple when you don't want to… feels bad. Very bad."

He waits for gasps of shock that do not come, then decides to continue regardless. "I know!" And when still no response comes he just nods in understanding. "I'll give you some time to sit and process that."

Alicent does not know how the others react, because Alicent is very careful not to look at anyone else save for that stupid doughy cat. Finally, her father interrupts the silence following Aegon's revelation. "Aegon. Not only is she a prisoner, but she's also Aemond's wife by law. Desire is not a factor when it comes to duty. Your sister has already had to learn that the hard way."

Aegon grimaces. "Great. Now I have to know that my Grandsire is a terrible lover."

Alicent steps in. "Aegon… congress does not require…" she quells the urge to shudder as she speaks the next part, "pleasure nor desire on the woman's part. Childbearing is how we serve the realm."

Aegon cringes. "Oh no, and now I know my father was a terrible lover. This is the worst breakfast ever."

But then he does seem to try to compose himself. He ushers Pancake to ooze over his shoulder so he can lean back and cross his arms. "Alright, if that's the case, why would Rhaenyra go around 'shaming herself' for no other benefit? Why does cunnilingus exist? Why is it Prince Daemon thought he could get away with forgetting to give Rhaenyra a name-day present by chaining her and going down? Hmm?"

"Because Rhaenyra is a whore!" her father exclaims.

"Father!" But she can think of nothing else to say. Nothing else. She dare not look away from Aegon and Pancake.

"See," Aegon says. "I don't get that. I was doing some math earlier, and I'm pretty certain that both of her husbands individually have fucked more men than she has."

Fortunately, Aemond does think of something. "Aegon, it was this or her death. Her children's deaths."

Aegon smiles. "Right… and, how many children does she have?"

"Aegon!" her father exclaims. "Enough. We spared her life, and we spared the realm a war. Rhaenyra's… preferences, highly questionable preferences at that, are a small price to pay."

"Aegon, there's no other way," Alicent says. "Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be."

Aegon holds up a finger. "But there is another way. I have another way. A better way. Because you have other complications ahead of you that you also have not foreseen."

Her father sighs. "Tell me about this no-doubt obvious complication you have only just now realized."

Aegon is unfazed. Pancake demands a back scratch with a meow that sounds like a squawk. Aegon obliges. "Aemond is the complication."

"What?" Aemond says.

"Well, both of you. Because here's the problem. Rhaenyra is amazing. And you're the worst. And Rhaenyra was married to Prince Daemon for six years. She knows what she's doing. She knows everything. She knows what she wants, and she definitely does not want you. I mean, why would she?"

"Aegon," her father says. "Get on with it so we can be done with this."

"Right. So… there are two possible outcomes." He turns in Aemond's direction, and Alicent cannot help but follow. "First, Rhaenyra never takes an interest, and she just lays there. Not just hating you, but also judging you for what a skilledless Hightower you are."

She'd been avoiding looking upon anyone, but she then does see Aemond. And Aemond is horrified.

Aegon turns to Grandsire. "Or, outcome two. She takes an interest, or, more likely, just gives up and accepts she's trapped and decides to make the best of it. And I don't think you want that either."

Alicent sighs. "Aegon, why would we want her to be miserable?"

"Because, come the day Rhaenyra accepts she's here for good, and she decides to truly bed Aemond instead of staring at the ceiling for two minutes,"

"Aegon," they all say.

"Right, Aemond has a thing for Valyrians. And mothers. So… thirty seconds."

"Aegon."

And Aegon finally does present his conclusion. "It doesn't matter if you bring back all her chains, because Aemond's going to be the one on the leash."

Alicent does manage to keep her mouth closed, as does her father. But she sees it in him the same way he sees it in her.

He might be right.

She dare not look to Aemond. She dare not say anything. No one does.

Until Aegon does. "But worry not, I would not bring up a problem without a solution. There's a better way forward."

Aemond shifts and Alicent looks his way instinctively, but fortunately he only seems tired. Tired of Aegon, that is. "I cannot wait to hear this," he says. "What are you proposing?"

Aegon embraces the tension for moment before continuing. "I think we should switch."

Everyone jumps. "What?" they all ask.

"Wives!" Aegon explains. He waves one hand and Pancake waves a tail for emphasis.

"Aegon," Aemond says. "That's insane."

"Not to mention depraved," her father says.

"And disrespectful," Alicent adds. "To both of your sisters."

"Why?" Aegon says to all of them. And then he turns to Aemond. "Look, you, you're boring. And obedient. And Helaena is boring and obedient. But Rhaenyra and I, we're interesting. And we're also the eldest. By tradition, we were supposed to be wed. But regardless, you cannot handle our sister, baby brother."

"And you suppose you can?" Aemond counters.

"I don't need to," Aegon says. "I'd be perfectly comfortable on Rhaenyra's leash. And she'd trapped here so she cannot stop me from… adventuring outside when I see fit. But also consider this, baby brother. You are a child trying to act like a man, whereas I am a man who acts like a child. And if our sister's history with men tells you anything, it tells you that I am the much better match. Also, I never killed her son. That's an important boundary in any relationship."

How does she end this as quickly and permanently as possible?

Her father decides he's up for the task. "Aegon. We did all of this because you are not fit to be King."

"I'm not saying I want to be King. I don't need to be King. Our family is so inbred, it doesn't even matter which one of us sires the heir. No one would ever know the difference. And if your blood is so important, we can just marry the heir to a child you make with Helaena. And the Holdfast is secured, is it not? So I've been thinking." He points to the ceiling. "Rhaenyra's suite lines up with parts of this suite. And so does Aemond's. All we need to do is build a passage between the suites, and a hole between the two floors, add a ladder, or stairs, or better yet, a sliding pole! Oh, no, an actual slide. And no one will know the difference. Problem solved."

As usual, it's Aegon who vanquishes Aegon. As usual, Alicent is grateful she need not do it herself. So is everyone else, and they all sigh in relief as Aegon descends back into the pit of absurdity from which he came.

Aegon misinterprets. "I know!"

They all rise.

It's not until they reach the door that sees he's lost them. "Oh come on! I worked hard on that one! I brainstormed with index cards!"

They don't look back.

"So…" Aemond says. "Might we all agree to never mention that conversation again?"

"Yes," she and her father both say. She walks alongside him all the way out of the Holdfast before she remembers that she and Aemond have important affairs to attend to. She's unaccustomed to subterfuge regarding her father, but then she remembers that he has absolutely no qualms about keeping secrets from her, so she follows Aemond's lead as they bid him farewell and cut across the yard.

It's not until they've made it across that she realizes they have no guards. "I dismissed them for the morning," Aemond tells her when she asks.

"Why?"

"I don't want anyone else with us." She then notices that he wears his hood up, though she's unsure if it's for secrecy or if he simply does not wish to be recognized at such a precarious time, with a broken swordhand and without guards, no less. Realizing how vulnerable that leaves them, Alicent too then opts to raise her hood before asking that most important question. "Where are we going, Aemond?"

"We're claiming my wedding gift. Rhaenyra is a generous bride," he says. "When our interests align, at least. And right now they do."

Were it Aegon or almost anyone else, Alicent would demand a straight answer. But she trusts Aemond enough to play his game. His game he's clearly quite excited to share with her. So instead all she says is, "And what shared interests would those be?"

"Do you think Rhaenyra is safer if I have more power, or if Grandsire does?"

She doesn't even need to say it. Alicent knows just as much as Rhaenyra does. She then wonders if Ser Harrold ever gave her the specifics of what the Council had planned for her before Alicent and Aemond interfered.

She lets Aemond have his fun in not telling her, until she realizes that the route they take makes sense for nowhere. "We're avoiding Grandsire," he says when she asks. "We cannot run into him."

They take yet another hidden entrance Alicent did not know about, and once inside the tunnels, Aemond retrieves a map from his pocket. The writing is in High Valyrian, but Alicent still recognizes it as Rhaenyra's. He does not study it for long, seemingly more for confirmation than direction, which tells her that Aemond has already tested whatever he means to do.

"There are other, simpler ways in," he explains. "This is just the way that best keeps us out of sight."

"So she gave you a map?"

"No, the map is the guide to the gift. She gave me a key." And a few moments later when they come upon a locked gate, he produces that key. He leads her down two more turns before bringing her to a stop, setting his torch upon the wall, and gesturing with a finger to his lips that they should proceed in silence.

Light comes from beyond the next corner, and soon so does faint noise. Aemond approaches the grate when they reach the final chamber, and gestures for her to do the same.

Alicent has to admit, Rhaenyra certainly is a generous gift giver, though she suspects that there are multiple intentions behind this gift that Aemond has yet to consider. But regardless of Rhaenyra's nebulous intentions, Alicent is more than happy to accept.

Ser Tyland's voice tells her it's almost time, and Alicent admires the view from the window she's always longed for.