112 AC

Many things had changed in the twelve years since they'd returned to Westeros and court life. Calamity after calamity hit House Targaryen. But it only took one look at the Dragon Lords and their power to understand the only thing able to destroy a dragon was another dragon.

After they had returned to mourn the loss of Queen Alysanne, it wasn't long before tragedy struck again. What was once supposed to be a year's visit became a more permanent residency in King's Landing when the once hale and healthy Prince Baelon died of a burst belly in 101 AC, only five days after being named Hand of the King. With his death, the question became: Who would seat the Iron Throne after the ailing King Jaeherys' death?

The answer: Prince Viserys, eldest son of Prince Baelon.

In the nine years since Old King Jaeherys had passed on and Prince Viserys ascended the throne, despite it being said that his cousin Princess Rhaenys had the better claim. Her being the first-born daughter of Aemon Targaryen, the oldest living son of King Jaeherys and Queen Alysanne.

But when the old king's health had begun to fail following the death of his true love and queen and both of his sons and heirs, he'd called upon a Great Council to decide the state of inheritance to avoid an all-out war. Fourteen candidates were put forth, many with armies backing them, but only two had been truly considered, Rhaenys and Viserys. In the end, Viserys had been voted heir on account of his owning a cock, and Rhaenys had returned to Driftmark with her husband Corlys Valaryon, having been proclaimed 'The Queen That Never Was.'

But such was the will of men, to never see a woman truly rise above them.

Smiling to herself, Diana looked down at the training yard, watching as her husband of 15 years trained his children in the art of sword fighting. Aelyx, now 14, had grown into a handsome young lad with unusually short-cropped hair for a Targaryen. Shaved at the sides and longer on top made him an intimidating figure as he crossed training blades with his father while his younger siblings watched with keen eyes.

Alycia, Diana's second-born child and only daughter, was beautiful, with long, curling silver hair pulled back into a braid and a tall, thin frame that spoke of how often she exercised with her siblings. Her normally porcelain skin had been bronzed by the hot sun of King's Landing, making her seem even more exotic to the young lordlings who panted after her at court.

Lastly, but certainly not least, stood the baby of the family. Daemion Targaryen was a quiet boy who, unlike his siblings, had inherited his messy brown locks from his mother. At age ten, he was far more partial to reading and learning the history and politics of Westeros alongside Diana rather than being in the training yard with his father, Daemon. Still, he loved his father and knew that one day it would be his duty to protect his own family in time, so he went and trained hard until he bled and sweated through his leather armour.

Her two younger children were night and day as they watched Aelyx train, grunting and sweating while he struggled to hold his own against their father's training practices. While Alycia's face had a dark, bloodthirsty smile as she cheered on her brother, Daemion was quiet, using the time to take in the fight and find out when and where his brother went wrong against a stronger opponent.

With one final brutal kick to the chest, Dameon sent a panting Aelyx flying backwards, hitting the dirt hard and dropping his sword in the process. When the boy didn't get back up and instead lay panting for several long moments, Daemon seemed to take pity, smirking as he stepped forward and, with a grunt, dragged his eldest to his shaky feet.

Seeing how disgruntled and disappointed Aelyx looked, Daemon's face softened, and with a firm hand, he grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and pulled him into a hug, gently knocking their foreheads together.

"Well done," he murmured, smiling when Aelyx just huffed in response, "Next time, move your feet. Now, go, your mother's here, and she'll want to see you not covered in muck and sweat."

As Aelyx walked away on sore legs, his ego effectively trimmed, Daemon turned his attention to Alycia, who practically vibrated with excitement.

"Come," Was all he said, holding up a wooden training sword. Diana would kill him if he used live steel, let alone Dark Sister, while training their children.

Smiling softly, Diana turned away from the balcony. Aelyx would need some cheering up after such a resounding defeat. But, having come to know the Red Keep like the back of her hand for the past 15 years, with Daemon more than willing to show her secret passageways he knew for a quick romp, Diana found her son quickly on his way back to his chambers.

Quickening her pace to catch up with him, Diana laced her fingers in front of the red-laced bodice of the black gown she wore its silk fabric grazing the cobblestone floor with every step she took. As she matched his pace, she didn't say a word, letting him mull in his silence until his frustration at her non-conversation starter had him snapping, "What is it, Mother?"

Rolling her eyes, he got his temper from Daemon; Diana replied in High Valyrian, "Iksis bona skorkydoso ao ȳdragon naejot se ābra qilōni maghatan ao ezīmagon bisa vys?"

Without skipping a beat, Aelyx replied in perfectly accented Valyrian, "Iksan vaoreznuni muña. Iksan ledagho."

"Skoro syt? aōha gūrēñare iksis māzis along sȳrī. Aōha kepa vestras sīr."

Losing his hold on his already strained temper, Aelyx snapped in the Common Tongue, "That's not good enough!"

At his tone, Diana stopped in her tracks, her face hardening as Aelyx paled, his face going white in shock and trepidation. Then, as he opened his mouth to no doubt apologize, Diana held a silent hand up, making his mouth close with an audible snap.

She stood in cold silence, allowing him to sweat until she finally spoke. You are the firstborn son of a prince. You are a great warrior. You ride one of the greatest dragons Westeros has ever seen. What else do you need, Aelyx?"

Aelyx didn't reply, his head down, eyes glued to the floor, his feet shuffling uncomfortably. Diana continued, "Your family loves you. You are doing well. You don't need to push yourself so hard. You are still a child; enjoy it while you can. Before duty calls, and you find yourself lost to it."

Aelyx didn't say a word. Indigo eyes pooling with tears, he nodded, head downcast. Sighing, Diana pulled him into a tight hug, uncaring that he was covered in mud and muck. After a long, probably too long hug considering they were in public, hug, she pulled back and swept his silver hair off his forehead. Then, smiling warmly at him, she said, "Go. You have a session with the maester in an hour. Take a bath and put on some clean clothes; the King wants to have a family dinner tonight."

Smiling at his mother, Aelyx nodded and turned on his heel, his head held high and his steps lighter than they had been before.

**Line Break**

The dining hall was filled with laughter and smiles as the family ate together, but Diana forced herself to eat. Her stomach rolled as she took in Aemma, her sister in all but blood, as she sat, tired and in pain, in her seat next to King Viserys. At nearly ten months pregnant, Aemma, who had suffered many miscarriages and stillbirths during her marriage to King Viserys, was in constant pain and under close observation from the maesters in hopes she would finally produce a male heir to the Iron Throne.

That thought alone made Diana's blood boil, and her resentment for Viserys to broil in her belly.

Because whilst Viserys was a congenial and kind man, he was also a weak and often uncertain King. He relied too much on his council to rule in his stead and put too much importance on his illusive male heir to see that he was slowly killing his love and wife, Queen Aemma Arryn.

Despite being told by several maesters' and midwives that Aemma was unlikely to carry to term and birth a healthy child, Viserys persisted on his path, despite already having Rhaenyra, Daemon and Daemon's children as possible heirs and spares.

In the fifteen years that Daemon and Diana had resided in King's Landing on and off, she and Queen Aemma had become close friends in allies, having similar interests in bettering the lives of the common people. Aemma was also the kindest, most gentle soul that Diana had ever met, willing to give her life to please her husband and produce a crown prince.

Aemma had told Viserys he hadn't cared about a male heir until after the Great Council had appointed him heir to the throne after King Jaeherys. Then, he'd had a dream he claimed to be prophetic and became relentless in his pursuits of a trueborn son. Nine years later, multiple dead infants and a weak and suffering wife were all he had to show for his 'efforts.'

Diana was pulled from her dark and distressing thoughts by a hand grabbing hold of her upper thigh and stroking it softly over her black skirt. Knowing who it was, she turned to her husband, who stared back at her with narrowed, concerned eyes. Hoping to soothe him, she gave him a weak smile and, ignoring all rules of etiquette, pulled him in for a chaste peck on the mouth, covering his hand with hers.

Unfortunately for her, Daemon wasn't fooled, and his eyes showed it as he laced their fingers together to give them a firm squeeze. Her heart warmed as she took in her husband. At least, in the beginning, their match hadn't been one of love, at least at first. He'd seen her as a rebellion against his family, and she'd only seen a gilded cage. But after months of conflict and the occasional hate fuck, her pregnancy with Aelyx had brought them back together. Daemon's loyalty to his family was legendary, and his child had been the wake-up call he needed to try and make their marriage functional.

So legendary was his loyalty that when Viserys had put himself forward as a potential heir, Daemon had raised an army in defence of his older brother's claim. But did Viserys ever truly see how much his younger brother longed to be respected and seen as worthy by his King and brother? No, of course, he'd tried to appease Daemon, offering him position after position on his Small Council but always, he managed to find something wrong. Then, within a few months, he'd snatched it back, his Hand Otto Hightower whispering poison in his ears along the way.

First, when Daemon was appointed the Master of Laws, Otto called him a tyrant; when Viserys had then named his brother Master of Coins, Otto proclaimed him a spendthrift who would beggar the realm and once again, Viserys had listened like the good little king he was. Now, Daemon had been named Lord Commander of the City Watch and had thrived in the role, taking the once dilapidated company and making it great again.

Of course, the council muttered their grievances, namely Lord Beesbury over the amount of coin Daemon had used to reequip and retrain the newly named Gold Cloaks to his high standards. And his standards were high; never before had the City Watch been so well organized or so fiercely loyal to the Crown.

Every day, Daemon returned to their chambers smiling and rambling about how well 'The Boys' training was going. The younger prince had found a purpose and felt needed by his brother and by his family, rejuvenating him and making him a better husband and father as a result.

As for the sex… Diana felt her inside heat at the memories of how Daemon had shown off the new armour he'd helped design as Lord Commander and how she'd helped him take it off before Daemon had fucked her hard and fast into the mattress until she had screamed.

Shaking herself internally, she didn't want to fall down that rabbit hole just yet. Diana struggled to focus on her plate. Of course, the food was lovely, with smoked duck, mixed greens and soft bread with butter.

"Sister," Diana quickly looked to Viserys, who looked at her with questioning eyes, "My Aemma tells me that you wish to miss The Heir's Tourney. Why?"

Clearing her throat, Diana sat up, aware of the eyes on her, both familial and unknown, "Well, Your Grace, with Queen Aemma so close to giving birth, I thought she could use the company. Being locked away in Maegar's Holdfast as she's been."

Diana knew she shouldn't make such jibes, especially to a king, a weak one or not, but she couldn't help herself. A pit inside her stomach prepared her for the worst every time she saw Aemma's haggard and exhausted face every day.

Viserys' face fell when he heard his words, and for a second, he seemed to search for an appropriate response; before he could, though, Daemon stepped in, "I think what my wife meant to say is that we all love Cousin Aemma dearly and to leave her alone on such an auspicious day wouldn't seem right. But don't worry, Aelyx and I will compete so that you will be most entertained."

Viserys' weak spot for his younger brother was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and just like clockwork, his face softened as he replied, "Of course, Brother. Right as always."

Then he reached over and kissed Aemma's hand, his eyes glowing with love and admiration for his wife.

"Father," Rhaenyra called from her spot with the children, "Can Aelyx, Alycia and Daemion, and I go flying tomorrow?"

Frowning, Viserys asked in mock seriousness, "I don't know… What if I hold an impromptu Small Council meeting? Who will fill our cups?"

Rhaenyra giggled at what was obviously an inside joke as Viserys broke character and nodded, "So long as you are back in time for your lessons. I would get up early and be back no later than the Hour of the Rooster."

Rhaenyra agreed gladly before turning back to giggle with Alycia. At the same time, Aelyx watched them with keen eyes, and Daemion ignored them in favour of practicing his High Valerian by speaking with his father.

Diana smiled as she looked upon her children, upon her family. Rhaenyra was a kind, intelligent girl with ambition and the ability to work hard for what she wanted. She and Alycia had always been close, with Aelyx willing to play along in their games. Although, as Aelyx and Rhaenyra grew older, Diana had been noticing their childlike stares turn more heated, filled with curiosity of the unknown as they looked upon each other.

Diana feared the day when Viserys announced his plans to betroth Rhaenyra to a great house. With Daemon his heir in all but name, Viserys would most likely choose not to betroth Aelyx and Rhaenyra together. Instead, he would choose another one of his many bannermen to lessen Daemon's power and create new alliances that had become strained upon his ascension to the Iron Throne.

If Diana were to guess, Viserys would choose one of the Lannister twins, the young Baratheon heir or Laenor Valaryon, as a way to mend ties after Rhaenys Velaryon - Targaryen was passed over.

The Lannister Twins were both arrogant pricks but had money to back their shit attitudes; Borros Baratheon was a strong warrior but hardheaded and discriminatory against women, like most Westerosi Lords. Leanor Valaryon, while a good man, was well known to have different tastes that would make providing Rhaenyra with an heir difficult.

But not impossible, her mind whispered, wandering to Rhea and her marriage to Jon Belmore that had provided her with a son and heir to the seat of Runestone. More peculiar was her close relations with Beatrice Belmore, who she had taken as a lady's maid when Beatrice married Marcus Grafton of Oldtown. With their households being so close in proximity, it was well known for the two ladies to spend copious amounts of time together while their husbands hunted and whored to their hearts' content.

Despite Diana's internal fears, Rhea had done her duty and found a solution that fit her and her husband's needs, at least to the outside eye. But still, rumours flew about the queer practices in Runestone, and Diana did not want that for her niece. Moreover, any question about Rhaenyra's children's parentage could prove deadly.

As the sky outside darkened and the hour grew late, Aemma was the first to leave due to exhaustion caused by her pregnancy. The children soon followed, leaving Daemon, Diana and Viserys to talk and drink.

By the time, Daemon and Diana retired, Viserys was deep into his cups and singing old sea shanties he'd no doubt learned from Lord Corlys and his sailors. Daemon chose to help his older brother to his room with the help of a few of the King's Guard while Diana checked on the children to ensure they were asleep in their beds and not causing mischief.

And as they lay together in their shared chambers, Diana couldn't help but clutch Daemon close, her mind wandering to dark and dangerous places. This should have been a time of celebration, yet she could not shake the feeling that things could and would go wrong eventually, and the thought made Diana want to cleeve to those she loved with a vengeance.

"What is it?" Daemon groaned into her loose brown curls, his voice deep with sleep.

Jerking in surprise, she hadn't realized he was still awake. Diana clasped Daemon's hand in hers and said, "I have a bad feeling. I worry for Aemma."

"Why? You will be with her when she goes into labour. She has an army of midwives and maesters to attend to her."

"That is what I worry about. Don't you remember when Daemion proved stubborn in the birthing bed? They tried to convince you to kill me, and save the child."

As emotions clogged Diaan's throat, Daemon turned her over to face him and pulled her to his chest, tucking his head into her hair as he murmured, "The Gods are cruel; you know this, Diana. I know you will do whatever you can for Cousin Aemma, but you cannot fight destiny."

At his words, Diana let loose the emotions she'd been holding in for months, ever since Aemma's pregnancy began to show and the Queen's lifeforce was slowly leeched away to an infant that Dian feared wouldn't live long enough to enjoy it. A star snuffed out for a candle, fickle and destined to burn out.

Diana cried and wailed in her husband's muscular chest until exhaustion took her, but even then, her dreams were filled with images of blood splattering and dragons falling from the sky.

Translations:

Iksis bona skorkydoso ao ȳdragon naejot se ābra qilōni maghatan ao ezīmagon bisa vys? skorkydoso ao ȳdragon yo aōha muña? - Is that how you speak to the woman who brought you into this world?

Iksan vaoreznuni muña. Iksan ledagho - I'm sorry Mother. I am frustrated.