Red Keep ― Courtyard…

"All hail Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen!" Ser Steffon announced.

As Rhaenyra stepped out of her carriage, she was surrounded by her three sons from her previous marriage, Princes Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon. Her uncle-husband Daemon and cousin/stepdaughter Rhaena Targaryen were also with her. It had been six long years since they had last been at the Red Keep, and they were completely unaware of the changes that had taken place in King's Landing. As they approached the entrance, Rhaenyra was surprised to see a group of Lykirī Mēre lining up around the castle. "Those are my brother's men," she recognized. The Blacks had stationed their own men around the court, and all eyes were on her. It was clear that they had been anticipating her arrival.

"Is this… normal?" Rhaena asked nervously.

Jacaerys shook his head. "No. No, I don't think so. Something's not right," he theorized.

"It's like they were expecting us," Lucerys added.

One of the Blacks approached. "Welcome back to King's Landing, princess," he said. "We've been expecting you."

"An odd way of showing it," Daemon rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

As if on cue, Lord Allun Caswell, another member of the Blacks faction, stepped outside and approached. "Welcome back, princess," he greeted.

"Lord Caswell," Rhaenyra reciprocated. "Is my brother here? The Hand of the King, Prince Aeonar Targaryen," she inquired.

"He is, princess. But he regrets not greeting you sooner. As you can see, things have been… not pleasant."

"Unpleasant, how? Where is my brother?"

The Lord of Bitterbridge seemed to struggle to find his words. "Well, the Hand sends his regrets, but several matters require his undivided attention. Though he wished for me to assure you that he would make time to―"

"Where is the king?" Daemon interruptedly demanded, resting his palm on Dark Sister.

"Hi… His Grace the King is resting in his chambers."

"That'll be all, Lord Caswell. I'll take it from here," a feminine voice called out.

Lord Allun ceased and stepped aside.

As they approached the entrance, Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children were met with an enthusiastic greeting from Princess Aemma. Rhaenyra couldn't help but notice how stunning Aemma looked, her Valyrian silver hair cascading in a chic side-swept style and a vibrant red gown that spoke to her elegance. It was almost like looking in a mirror or at a younger version of herself or even her late mother. The dress had a v-neck with long sleeves embroidered at the cuffs and a black yoke heavily embroidered with the red three-headed dragon on each side of her shoulders, with smocking on the bodice that looked like dragon scales and more embroidery with an abstract floral design. In addition to her stunning attire, she adorns a beautiful beaded collar necklace embellished with gold drop metal pieces. The necklace is expertly crafted with intricate beadwork, adding an extra touch of elegance to her ensemble. Large gold circular earrings complement the chain, featuring a unique hammer pattern and a lovely pearl set at the center. Three other pearls are placed above the centerpiece, adding to the earrings' overall beauty. The earrings are finished with a wire-wrapped pearl teardrop bead, which dangles delicately from the circular component, completing the look gracefully. The family couldn't help but be in awe of Aemma's beauty and elegance.

"Aemma!" Joffrey recognized his cousin immediately. Bolting from the pack, he ran up and embraced her, nearly knocking her over.

"Whoa, ho-ho! Easy there, little man," Aemma chuckled, lowering her eyes to her overly excited six-year-old cousin. "Good morning, Jace. You too, Luke." She greeted them as they both came to see her.

Baela also joined her cousins. "Well, took you long enough," she raised an eyebrow. Placing her hands on her hips, it was clear she was happy to see her younger sister again.

"Sis!" Rhaena hugged her. "I missed you so much! Wow, you look so pretty!"

"Beh, please spare me the details. We all know you're the prettiest among us. Don't pretend otherwise." Baela reciprocated the hug from her sister. "Still, I missed you too, Rhaena."

"Does that mean grandma's here too?"

"Yes, she's here. I came with her." Baela turned to Daemon. "Father," she greeted.

"Baela," Daemon acknowledged his daughter, noting how quickly she had grown into a beautiful sixteen-year-old. He couldn't help but see her late mother in her appearance, and he knew that her time at Driftmark had shaped her into the young woman she had become. Taking her sister by the arm, Baela dragged Rhaena to the castle's godswood to spend time with their maternal grandmother.

Rhaenyra gazed at her niece, unable to help but notice how much her niece had grown and changed. To her surprise, Aemma cradled a precious little bundle in her arms, indicating she had become a mother. "You're a mother now?" she looked at the infant.

Aemma nodded. "I'm a mother," she confirmed. "Her name's Saena." She hugged her aunt, almost not wanting to let her go. "Welcome home, aunt Rhaenyra. I missed you so much."

Rhaenyra reciprocated her niece's affections. "I missed you too, my dear girl," she whispered. Wow. I would never have imagined Aeonar and Alicent could become grandparents so early. When they inevitably had to separate, they continued eyeing each other. "I have to say that while I appreciated the letters, a visit in-person is much better." She then cooed over baby Saena, her great-niece. "Hello, little sweetling."

Daemon, growing impatient, approached. "Aemma, what's going on here? I've seen graveyards and crypts with more cheer to them than this. Furthermore, why are there so many dragon icons and symbols of the Faith everywhere?" he insisted. The place seemed gloomy, resembling graveyards and crypts.

Aemma stared at her great-uncle with a look of disdain, then shifted her gaze to survey the courtyard cautiously. "Not here," she warned silently. "King's Landing is rife with prying eyes and ears. They are watching us, listening in on us." There were too many nobles around. "Now, please. Come with me," she directed.

Rhaenyra's instincts were correct. Since they last met, her niece has been a sweet girl. Now, she was firmer. Something was wrong! With Jace taking Luke and Joffrey on a journey to the training courtyard, Rhaenyra and Daemon accompanied Aemma inside the Red Keep with her escorts.

Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast…

"I trust the letter reached you without any trouble?" Aemma asked. As Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped inside, they couldn't help but notice the remarkable transformation of the Red Keep. The iconography of the Old Gods of the Valyrian Freehold's pantheon and the Faith of the Seven were festooned in nearly every corner of the castle. "I understand you have many questions, but that will wait. This isn't the right time to discuss such matters."

Rhaenyra surveyed her surroundings, noticing the change in decor. "I would say it's nice to be home, but… I scarcely recognize it," she stated.

"Hmm," Daemon hummed.

Aemma carefully observed their surroundings, making sure they weren't followed. Finally, she saw an opportunity and led Rhaenyra and Daemon to a quiet corner. Then, turning to her handmaiden, Dyana, she gave a firm instruction. "Please bring my daughter to her chambers," she ordered.

Dyana gently picked up the fussy three-month-old Princess Saena and respectfully nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes, my princess. As… as you wish," she replied nervously. Sensing the need for privacy, the serving girl quietly left the room.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't talk freely in front of everyone. Too many eyes and ears are everywhere at court," Aemma explained to her aunt, sighing in relief and apologizing for being so discreet.

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Are you all right?" she questioned.

Aemma pinched the bridge of her nose. "No. No, I'm really not," she exhaled. "I must confess, things haven't been going smoothly since you departed. Despite our best efforts, the Caltrops and Her Grace Queen Beatrice have grown more audacious by the day." Aemma leaned in closer, making sure they weren't overheard. "It seems the Caltrops have found a way to exploit a loophole in the inheritance laws established by the Great Council thirty years ago. Ser Vaemond intends to petition the crown to hear his claim to Driftmark. If he succeeds, it could put Jace's legitimacy into question."

"Vaemond is a fool, then. The moment he speaks up about who has a better claim to Driftmark than the other, Viserys will punish him for insolence," Daemon replied with a scoff.

Rhaenyra and Daemon both noticed Aemma's eyes darting when Viserys was mentioned. She approached her niece. "My dear Aemma, I must inquire about the well-being of our king. We've been hearing whispers and tales from others, but I long to know the truth," she expressed deep concern for her father's welfare.

Aemma was breathing shakily, clearly deeply troubled. "That's… another thing I… I wanted to talk to you about," she added, lowering her eyes sadly. "Grandfather is… well," she looked at the door. "He… had a stroke two years ago. Given his condition and combining it with his illness, I don't think he's ever recovered. All we can do is… making him comfortable." She motioned them over. "It… would be easy to show you." She slowly pushes the door open.

As Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped into Viserys's room, their eyes were immediately drawn to the impressive model of Old Valyria that dominated the space. Despite its beauty and intricate details, the model was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, suggesting that it had been neglected for quite some time. Its sheer size was awe-inspiring, but it was clear that it would require the attention of more than one person to maintain. The room was filled with incense's warm, sweet scent, adding to the mysterious atmosphere. Aemma led them to the bed but gestured to them to wait patiently.

"Grandpa?" Aemma whispered. "There are some visitors here to see you." She then turned to leave. "I'll… I'll be outside. But please try to keep your voices down and don't shoulder him with more stress than he already had to endure. If his pain worsens, I've left some medicine on the shelf near his bedside and 'instructions.'"

Rhaenyra and Daemon then made their approach. They had yet to see or speak to him since their last encounter. The last time they saw Viserys was when the king vocally made his disapproval of their union known, although much less harsh than Aeonar's, as it was seen as disrespectful to House Velaryon after the deaths of Laena and Laenor. If what Aemma told them was true, then Viserys was on borrowed time even with Aeonar's men treating him for his ailments. All they could do for him was slow down the disease and make him at peace. Much to their horror, however, upon closer observation, they find Viserys bedridden, disorientated, and clearly in severe pain, his hair all but gone, his teeth rotten, and his face swathed in bandages. His breathing was heavy, wheezing, and often at times, he was whimpering in discomfort.

"Fa… Father?" Rhaenyra called out to him.

King Viserys struggled to catch his breath. "Who… Who goes there?" he uttered, his voice barely audible. His eye darted, unable to see from one side, searching for a familiar face. "A… Aemma?" The tension in the air was palpable as everyone waited for a response, unsure of what would come next.

"No, father. It's me, my king. Rhaenyra," Rhaenyra said, kneeling and taking her father's trembling hand. Oh, gods. Father… what have they done to you?

Daemon glanced at the nightstand; he spotted a dainty porcelain cup beside the bottle and decided to inspect it. Upon examining it, he realized it was the medicine Aemma had mentioned, which Maester Alwyn had prepared for the king. Despite its resemblance to milk of the poppy in terms of appearance and scent, the concoction was unique and unfamiliar.

"Rhaenyra… ooh, my… my little… princess. When did you grow so tall? Who… who's that with you?"

"I'm here with Daemon."

"Daemon? Daemon? Where?"

"I'm here, Viserys," Daemon presented himself.

"Ohhh… Daemon… I… I thought you were still in the Vale."

Rhaenyra and Daemon looked at each other; the situation was worse than they had thought. As the Rogue Prince laid his eyes on his older brother, who was lying sick and helpless, he couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of remorse in his chest. He had relentlessly competed against his nephew for his brother's crown for years, challenging his authority at every turn. However, as he watched Viserys withering down to a very ill and crippled state, the guilt was palpable in his facial expressions and body language, even though he never spoke of it.

ooOoo

Flashback: Six years ago (126 AC)…

"Your girls are the very image of their mother," Viserys commented. "A comfort and anguish, as I well remember. I know how you feel, Daemon. All too well, after so many years. The gods can be cruel…"

"It seems they've been especially cruel to you," Daemon remarked.

"I… yes. Well, I suppose I deserve that. But Daemon… I'm sorry for how things turned out between us. How I reacted and said all those awful things to you. You were telling the truth the whole time."

"What do you want from me this time, Viserys?"

"You should return with us to King's Landing. It's time that you came home."

"Pentos is my home… and that of my children, or at least until it was."

"Daemon… I know we've had our differences in the past but let them pass with the years. There's a place for you in my court if that's something you should need―"

"I need… nothing."

"Brother―"

ooOoo

It was clear that Daemon deeply regretted his past behavior towards his brother and wished he could turn back the hands of time.

"He… help me up."

Rhaenyra and Daemon carefully repositioned the frail king, attentively listening to his moans as they adjusted the pillows to grant him a clearer view of their faces.

"Oohh… it's been so… so long…" Viserys remained confused about the situation as his pain continued to overwhelm him.

"The Sea Snake has taken a grave wound in battle in repelling the Triarchy remnants from the Stepstones," Daemon relayed the message to him. Despite his great-niece's suggestion to avoid adding more stress, the Rogue Prince believed that as the king's brother, he had the right to be informed about the latest developments.

"Wha… When? We won that war seven… seventeen years ago…"

"Indeed, we have made efforts to suppress their activities within the region, but their resilience knows no bounds. We still retain complete control over the Stepstones, but their attacks persist relentlessly despite our vigorous defense measures. There's… There is a petition to decide upon the succession of Driftmark and the heir to the Driftwood Throne."

"Pe… Petitions? My son… he sees to all that business now… Aeonar… so much like father…"

Rhaenyra felt a nervous gulp as she confirmed her suspicion. Her father's incapacity has led her brother to rule the Seven Kingdoms atop the Iron Throne in his place. She couldn't help but worry about his intentions. However, she knew she had to speak with him before jumping to any conclusions.

"No, brother, listen to me," Daemon persisted. "You are to affirm your position for Jacaerys… to be Corlys Velaryon's successor."

"Has something happened to Lord Corlys? I… I thought I saw him just yesterday in the council chamber…"

As Daemon looked at his brother's current state, he couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness within him. It reminded him of their grandfather, King Jaehaerys I, during his final days. The Old King was in and out of consciousness, sometimes delirious. It hurt Daemon to see his once-grandfather mistake Otto Hightower's wife Lady Evelyne for his estranged daughter Princess Saera. Despite the pain he felt, Daemon never expressed it out loud. Now, seeing his brother going through a similar ordeal only added to his heartache.

Rhaenyra silenced her father and uncle-husband, heeding her niece's warning not to burden the ailing king any further. Viserys was already struggling, and she didn't want to add to his troubles. She decided to focus on lifting his spirits instead, knowing that his illness and recent stroke were already taking a toll on him. "Father," she spoke gently, "there's someone we wish to introduce you to." Briefly standing, the princess turned to the opposite side of the room.

"Daemon…" Viserys said weakly.

"Brother," Daemon replied with regret.

"I―"

"No. No, Viserys. I… I was angry. All these years vying to be your heir, to be acknowledged as your equal, it was something I thought I wanted at the time. Years and years of neglect made me resent my status as a second son and of you, but I know now that you did everything you could to support me despite everything. I'm sorry for what I said at Laena's funeral. You're not just the king; you're my brother. Now and always."

Viserys was taken aback by his brother's apology and choked on his words. Soon enough, a child crying out behind them draws his attention. "Who is that?" he asked.

Rhaenyra came back, holding a little bundle in her arms. Following her, one of her servants carried a young boy of four years. "Father," she said directing toward the boy, "this is Aemon," introducing him with a smile.

"Aemon…"

"And this," Rhaenyra then proudly points to the bundle of joy in her embrace, "is Baelon."

It is truly heartwarming to witness the overwhelming emotions that Viserys experienced. The reunion with his daughter and reconciling with his younger brother are already such precious moments, but to add to that, the sickly king was also blessed with being introduced to two more grandchildren, both named after his father and uncle. "Aemon, Baelon… ohhh." With a joyful expression, Viserys extended his fragile hand to caress the infant Baelon. "Names… fit for a king, wouldn't you say, Rhaenyra?" he joked.

Rhaenyra chuckled. However, despite the joyous introduction, Aemon and Baelon began to cry.

Meanwhile, Viserys was suddenly struck by a wave of pain and recoiled. "Oh… Oh, oh… I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so…" In great agony, he apologized while clutching the right side of his face. Rhaenyra and Daemon recalled the warnings Aemma had given them about the king's recurring pains. "I'm sorry. I'm sor… Please. My tea. My tea."

"What tea? This?" Daemon noticed the cup beside him, the one Aemma pointed out.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Viserys drank the tea in earnest, finishing it until he felt sleepy again.

As Rhaenyra and Daemon inspected the cup, they discovered some mysterious 'instructions' underneath it. One side described how to brew the medicine, but the other side was written in High Valyrian with a warning label. It warned that someone in the Red Keep had been tampering with the milk of the poppy, attempting to put Viserys in a coma before the Blacks apprehended those suspected of trying to poison the king. Maester Alwyn and Aemma had since been working tirelessly to create a special mixture to alleviate Viserys's pain without affecting his cognitive abilities. Their goal was to ease his suffering, expel the toxins from his body, and keep his mind intact. However, with his illness progressing rapidly and combining with the effects of his stroke, treating him had become a daunting task.

Aemma deliberately omitted certain information to guide them.

"Father, we'll leave you to rest for now. We can speak more later," Rhaenyra said softly, planting a gentle kiss on Viserys's cheek as he mumbled incoherently and moaned. She and her consort quietly left the room, holding their sons and speaking quietly to one another.

Daemon appeared quite somber. "He seems almost unrecognizable. I've seen better men with more meat on their bones than him," he commented with a tinge of bitterness.

"Have you considered seeking the advice of another maester or a healer from Pentos? It's possible that a fresh perspective could provide a new course of treatment for him."

"There is no treatment in the world that could help him at this point."

"Now do you see what I mean, auntie?" Aemma asked. She had been standing outside the door, listening in on their conversation. "We've been trying everything we can think of, but it's like hitting a brick wall. I'm starting to worry that his illness is beyond any treatment we can offer."

Rhaenyra was on a mission to get to the bottom of things. "I need to know who was in charge of his treatment when he had his stroke," she demanded. She had a feeling it was Grand Maester Orwyle, even though she thought he lacked the strength of character needed to make tough decisions. After all, she had witnessed firsthand how he wilted under pressure in the past.

Daemon's sharp words cut through the air as he addressed his niece-wife, "It doesn't matter who was treating him." He then turned his attention to his great-niece and exclaimed, "How is it possible for my addled brother to govern while lost in a haze of poppy dreams? Does he communicate his decrees through blinks and moans? And who is acting as regent in his stead?"

Aemma raised her hand, signaling for everyone to be quiet. "Two years ago," she began, "I began to suspect that the Caltrops were tampering with grandpa's medicine when I was spending time with him in his chambers. If they had continued, it would have put his life at risk, and I'm certain he would have overdosed in his sleep."

"So what did you do?" Rhaenyra pressed.

"The small council was a dead end, so I went to my father and mother instead and laid out my concerns. Grandfather Otto was there, too. Being a former Hand, he still had some serious pull in the royal court. So he called in a few favors."

"And they actually listened to you?" Daemon said doubtfully.

"I know it sounds crazy, but father just listened. It's what he did whenever he suspected something was off or if someone was lying to him, putting together all the pieces until they fell into place. If the pieces were there, he wouldn't deny them."

Rhaenyra listened. "That does sound like him," she replied. "What happened next?"

"He ordered a thorough investigation into the allegations and traced the lines that connected those who remained loyal to the queen and despised his governance until it all came back to Her Grace's inner circle. They were arrested, of course, on charges of treason." Aemma looked at the two. "Instead of relying on the Grand Maester, father chose to have his own maester look after him. Alwyn collected tissue samples in order to create a more effective sedative. But grandpa's condition had already declined too much for any further treatment to be effective. So yes, I believe the Caltrops have been plotting against grandpa and trying to frame my father for their misdeeds. They fear his power and influence as the Hand of the King for six years and what he might do. They have even found ways to use inheritance laws and succession rights against him. They put father in a tight spot! His hands are tied!" Aemma's eyes met Rhaenyra's. "So we… we had to send a message to you. Please, auntie, we need your help."

Upon seeing her beloved niece being nearly reduced to an emotional wreck, Rhaenyra's heart ached with empathy. She immediately passed Baelon to one of the servants and embraced Aemma with tenderness and warmth as a nurturing mother would for her child. Tenderly kissing her forehead, Rhaenyra reassured her she will do everything in her power to assist her. However, she couldn't help but express her concerns, "My dear girl, I understand how difficult this must be for you. Rest assured, I will always stand by your side and do what I can to help. But I fear your father and I haven't seen eye-to-eye in some time, and we have lost many allies in the capital over the past six years."

Daeron burst into the room, his temper flaring like wildfire. "What are you talking about? You have friends!" he exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration. His fiery personality was reminiscent of the Rogue Prince, and he couldn't stand the thought of his sibling feeling alone. "More than you know! You couldn't see it."

Daemon found his great-nephew's temperament amusing. "Ah, ha. Little Daeron. I heard that you braved a dragon's nest in the Dragonmont and found a clutch of eggs. Well done."

Daeron let out a cocky smirk as he said, "Pfft! Please. It was way too easy."

Aemma quickly reminded him, "Just because it was easy for you doesn't mean you're invincible, little brother. You need to be careful, or you could end up getting seriously hurt."

But Daeron was too confident to worry. "Come on, sis. Have a little faith in me."

Rhaenyra couldn't help but crack a smile, but she quickly composed herself as she had more important matters to attend to. With a serious tone, she turned to her niece and nephew. "Aemma, Daeron, I need to find your father. Could you tell me where I can find him?" she asked.

They both looked at each other.

"He's in the Tower of the Hand…"

Chapter End

Author's Note: We are now here with Rhaenyra and Daemon and their respective children returning to King's Landing for the first time in six years. Many changes have been made to the Red Keep, especially the decour; the Faith of the Seven and the Old Gods of the Valyrian pantheon. Aside from the discussion with Aemma, they reunite with the sickly King Viserys, who seems to be getting worse by the day. What were your interpretations of Aemma's explanations of what's been going on? This will be broken into at least two parts so next chapter the Targaryen siblings reunite. Stay tuned for more!

MichaelBishopone: I just loved how during that episode Daemon was just vibing through the whole thing while thinking.
"Huh, for once I am not the one causing shit to go down."
Well besides the beheading, But come on. Its Daemon, he lives for chaos.

TheRagFromTheCrag: Garrus Vakarian

―Can this wait? I'm in the middle of some... callibrations.

So who needs their ass kicked now?

garrysprawson123: Man i can't wait for the next chapter! and also I have this question, Will Aeonar won't support Rhaenyra? because he knows its her fault for not having proper heirs, and will Aeonar give the strong boys a new purpose at court since Aeonar wouldn't allow them to inherit Driftmark

―Can't spoil anything. I like to keep things interesting