The sound of catapults hitting ships, dragons roaring, seagulls squawking and waves crashing filled the air as Aelyx stood next to Laenor Velaryon at the planning table. With food rations dwindling and little to no aid from the mainland, morale was at an all-time low.
Ser Vaemond certainly wasn't helping with his whispers of mutiny and general complaints being heard throughout the camp. He believed they were all doomed and that the Targaryens, specifically Daemon Targaryen, were to blame.
Glancing over his shoulder, Aelyx saw a snoozing Vermithor and Seasmoke, bathing in the little sunlight they had through the thick fog and smoke clouding the air. The dragons had been working hard these past years, going in shifts to torment the enemy with dragon fire while the other two slept or feasted on sea beasts.
While Vermithor was larger and more powerful than the swifter young dragon, he was more prone to lethargy and had less patience for silliness. He'd threatened to burn several young soldiers who thought they'd be brave enough to approach the 'King of Dragons' and his young nestmate. Caraxes avoided the other dragons, his anti-socialness well known among dragonriders and keepers.
Aelyx was pulled from his musing by Lord Corlys' voice as he said, "We have sixteen, perhaps eighteen seaworthy ships, 700 foot soldiers, some 60 knights. Our food quickly dwindles, save what we can fish from the sea. I would say we have a fortnight, mayhaps longer, with strict rationing. I have made calls for Driftmark to send more ships, but they will be weeks away. We are faltering, and the triarchy knows it. We must press the attack and continue sending the dragons."
Laenor voice was tired and held a whining edge to it as he replied, "There's no point, Father. The Crab Feeder has created a choke point here." He moved a piece on the table to represent the chokepoint, "Beyond these dunes. Archers hold their high positions; foot soldiers hold the ground. We strafe them on dragonback repeatedly, but they retreat further into the caves."
Ser Vaemond didn't hesitate to spit his vitriol, cutting in with, "Dragons can circle Bloodstone until they fall from the sky. The Crab Feeder and his men have no reason to leave those caves."
Blood boiling after weeks of holding his tongue, Aelyx snarled, "Then we must give them one! A quarry worth leaving their positions for."
Laenor nodded, backing his cousin, "An offering a flesh the Crab can't pass up."
"Who?" Vaemond snarled, leaning forward onto the table towards Aelyx, "You? Do you Targaryens truly think yourself so important?"
"He is the rider of Vermithor, one of the largest dragons in existence, and he is a prince of Westeros. The Crab Feeder will not hesitate to try and bring him down."
"He is the firstborn of a second son who will never inherit anything. He is worthless."
Lord Corlys stepped forward, his voice firm, "Perhaps to you, brother, but not the Crab Feeder and not to me. Aelyx has been instrumental these past three years, and you know it. Him and Daemon."
Vaemond snorted with derision, "Daemon? Daemon is why we are losing."
"Dragon returning!" The call cut through the tension, everyone turning their heads to where Caraxes was landing, his serpentine body barely making a sound as he landed near the other dragons. From his back came a dirt and ash-covered Daemon Targaryen, his once silver hair coated with blood and soil, tangling the strands and making him look more formidable than he already was.
"Daemon, he at least is fighting this war. What of you, Uncle?" Laenor asked, "What role have you played on this council other than Master of Complaints?"
"Enough, Laenor!" Lord Corlys snapped, but his ire quickly turned to his younger brother as Vaemond yelled.
"If King's Landing will not support Daemon, why should any of us?!" The last part was yelled loudly for all to hear, the man turning to the troops, arms wide in question.
As if summoned, The Rogue Prince marched down the hill towards their council, face covered partially by his dragon helm but features blank despite the fact that he had to have heard Ser Vaemond's treasonous words.
Angered, Lord Corlys took hold of his brother's shoulder, jerking to more petite man towards him sharply, sneering, "Blood or no, Vaemond, I will not have you stoke mutiny."
Despite his grimace, the young Velaryon cowered under his brother's threats, leaning away and averting his eyes. Silently, their troops watched the spectacle, their eyes dark with weariness, their exhaustion apparent in their stances. Vaemond or no, Aelyx wouldn't be surprised to hear of desertion soon.
Silently, Aelyx's father took his place at the table, slowly taking off his gloves and helm, face impartial as he looked around the table, eyes sharp. Then, seeming to have gathered his courage, Vaemond pushed forward, "If you do not seize control of this war, My Lord. The crabs will soon dine on all of us."
Aelyx watched his father keenly as Daemon turned away from the assembled commanders, leaning against the table to look at their forces. If there was one thing the young man had learned during his time fighting alongside the legendary dragon rider, it was that if Daemon Targaryen was quiet, no one was safe. The other commander seemed to be thinking the same thing, their apprehension plain on their faces as they stared at Father's armour-covered back.
The sound of shuffling feet had the group turning their heads to see a platoon of soldiers, their red and black armour clean despite their filthy surroundings. In the front, a man clutched a rolled-up piece of parchment. He looked nervous as he called, "Prince Daemon. I bring word from His Grace Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Roynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
There was a tension-filled silence as Daemon glared at the man's outstretched hand, eyes locked on the first message from his brother and King for almost four years. The messenger shuffled nervously until Daemon snatched the message from his hand, unrolling it lazily and reading it slowly, without comment.
From his vantage point, Aelyx could not see his Father's face, but he could only guess his expression. It was no secret how large the rift between the King and his mischievous brother was. Four years of banishment and non-communication hadn't helped matters.
Silently, Daemon held the roll of parchment back out to the messenger. Hesitantly, the man stepped forward and took it, but as soon as he was in range, the Rogue Prince struck. He took his helm and bashed the young man repeatedly, ignoring the shouts and reprimands that erupted from the council.
It took Aelyx, Corlys and Laenor to pull the prince away from his prey and even then, it was only once Daemon had his fill of violence that he stepped back, face blank. Then, turning on his heel, he marched away, their audience parting quickly to stay out of his way.
"Fuck," Aelyx murmured as the messenger was quickly shuffled off to a healer. Taking in all of the despondent faces following his Father's retreating form, he huffed, picked up the message and scanned it; his blood ran cold when he saw what it said.
King Viserys, after three long years of ignoring his brother and cousin-in-law's struggle against the Triarchy, was finally sending aid. No doubt at Rhaenyra's request, his Mother knew his Father too well to ask the King for anything, especially this. Daemon's pride was too strong to accept it.
It certainly explained his Father's reaction. After three years, only now, when their failure was imminent, would Viserys send aid to make himself their saviour. And by doing so, ruin Daemon and Corly's chance to spite the King and his council, crawling out from under their shadow.
Chuckling sardonically under his breath, he looked up to share a bemused look with a haggard-looking Laenor. This needed to end now.
** Line Break **
Aelyx felt like he was going to shake himself out of his skin; that's how twitchy he felt watching his Father row away. The plan was good, the steps clear and yet, the amount of danger Daemon Targaryen was willing to put himself in to ensure victory made his eldest son want to scream.
Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Aelyx marched over to Vermithor, eager to take to the air so he might keep an eye on his Father. But, plan or no plan, he was not about to sacrifice his Father for a dozen small islands, deal with the Velaryons or not.
Laenor followed him silently, his eyes boring into the back of Aleyx's skull as he climbed onto a quietly screeching Seesmoke's back. It had only been a few hours since Father had thrown his tantrum, only to come back half an hour later with an entire plan laid out. Lord Corlys, just as eager to spite King Viserys as Daemon, had begrudgingly agreed to the course of action despite the danger it posed to his friend and ally.
Silently taking to the sky, Aelyx flew high above the clouds, invisible to the enemy below but also making it exceedingly difficult for him to see his Father. Then, as the sounds of swords clashing and shouted orders in Bastard Valyrian rang out in the air, Aelyx quietly lowered Vermithor to land on top of the cave systems, out of sight to men within them to see. But close enough to spy his Father running full tilt across the sand. Multiple dead Triarchy men sprawled behind him, either dead or severely wounded.
Screams of agony and Valyrian rang out as arrows flew through the air, missing the fleeing man by only inches at times. Several times, it even struck some foot soldiers sent to kill the prince running toward the cave systems. But with every few feet, the prince drew closer to the Crab Feeder's hiding place, more soldiers came out to defend their commander, leaving themselves exposed on the battlefield.
Aelyx's breath caught in his throat when at least four arrows found their mark in his Father's shoulder, side and leg when several soldiers managed to slow the prince down, sending the man sprawling. But it didn't slow the man down for long; with a yell, he broke the arrows, leaving the heads inside his flesh to slow the bleeding, as he crawled under a nearby wooden structure to take cover.
Unable to save him, Aelyx was forced to watch in horror as the enemy swarmed to the Rogue Prince's position, quickly circling him as the man in question struggled to stand, obviously in agony. Unable and unwilling to stay back while his Father was slaughtered, the young man promptly took to the skies, seeing Seasmoke following him from his perch out of the corner of his eye.
And as the men created an almost perfect circle around Father, Lord Corlys and his forces snuck up from behind. Seeing Vermithor descending from the sky, the men gave a battle cry and began to run across to the sand to attack the surprised Triarchy forces from behind while Seasmoke and Laenor headed straight toward the archers.
Bringing Vermithor down into a shallow dive, Aelyx cried, "Dracarys!"
With a roar, massive bronze-coloured flames exploded from the Dragon King's maw, and as they turned, the fire drew an almost perfect circle, sending Daemon sprawling but killing all who were unfortunate enough to be close to the Rogue Prince.
Darting a glance to ensure his Father was alright, Aelyx began his assault on the remaining Triarchy forces, killing them with dragon fire before they could overwhelm the Velaryon forces.
Seasmoke quickly joined him in strafing the troops, having already taken out the archers above, leaving only burnt bodies and ashes in their wake.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly they defeated the remaining enemy soldiers. No mercy was shown, even to those who surrendered, tempers too heightened by their desire to go home. Those who didn't burn were slaughtered by the Velaryon forces or found in Seasmoke's claws to be thrown hundreds of feet into the air and crushed by the power. A favoured move by Laenor, who found the act amusing.
Unlike Aelyx, who, as soon as he deemed it safe, brought Vermithor down near the cave openings, eyes darting to and fro searching for his Father. He had disappeared during the chaos, no doubt in search of the Crab Feeder.
"Father?!" He yelled, voice hoarse from smoke inhalation, Vermithor giving an earth-shaking roar beneath him, feeling his anxiety and fear. Squinting through the smoke, Aelyx quickly climbed off Vermithor and began to run towards the figure, slowly walking out of the caves and dragging something behind him.
"Father!" Aelyx roared, jogging to meet his Father halfway down the cliffside, eyes widening as he took in the bisected body of the Crab Feeder; the only part remaining was the top half of his torso.
Behind them, the Velaryon forces erupted into cheers celebrating their victory. Above them, Seasmoke did a circuit of the battlefield, shrieking his agreement the whole way, his rider hooting and hollering as well.
With a great heave, Vermithor took to the air to join a shrieking Caraxes who had been attracted by the death and bloodshed, ready to gorge himself on Triarchy corpses. Through all of that, though, Aelyx only had eyes for his Father, who stared back at him with stern eyes. After a moment, Father dropped the arm of his quarry and, with one hand, grabbed Aelyx by the back of his head, gently knocking their foreheads together in a sign of affection. Laughing breathlessly, Aelyx clasped his Father on the shoulder, puffing out deep breaths as the adrenaline slowly faded from his system, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
Murmuring to his eldest son in High Valyrian, Daemon said, "It's time to go home, son."
"Yes, Father."
** Line Break **
The great hall of Storm's End was intimidating and grand with its cavernous rooms, dark stone walls, and floors as Diana took her place just below Rhaenyra. For the past two months, she and her daughter had accompanied Rhaenyra on her tour of the Seven Kingdoms in search of a husband. What Viserys had assumed to be a kind gesture on Diana's part was also a chance for the woman to ensure her input was listened to regarding Rhaenyra's choice of husband.
Thankfully, Storm's End was the last stop on their tour, with Diana having considerably cut the number of suitors down by making it necessary that they travel to Storm's End, Highgarden or King's Landing.
In her eyes, any who chose not to make the journey was not worthy of Rhaenyra's hand - or Alycia's.
Diana kept a keen eye out for potential suitors for her only daughter, even though her daughter, for whatever reason, had her heart set on the young Lannister twin. Despite him being at least a dozen years her senior, her daughter had made it her business to be where the Master of Ships was. At least once a day, she made her presence known, all the while dressed in beautiful gowns and with her hair done perfectly.
Thankfully, Diana had staffed her daughter with lady's maids loyal only to her, who reported her daughter had done little more than flirt with the clever knight. Alycia's sworn sword Ser Newton also corroborated the story, stating no one of the opposite sex had come in or out of the princess' room or been closer than six feet from her person at all times.
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes as Lord Dondarrion warbled on about old histories and tales of old, Diana made eye contact with an exasperated Rhaenyra. Smiling softly at the girl, Diana nodded towards the hoard of men awaiting their turn to try and woo the princess. Being her rebellious girl, Alycia had escaped over an hour ago, claiming to have a headache.
Diana hadn't been surprised when a servant had reported seeing the Cannibal taking off, headed out to sea with a rider on its back.
Murmuring under her breath so only Rhaenyra and Lord Boremund Baratheon could hear, Diana said, "A few more, and we'll break for supper, my dear."
"Why must they all be old enough to be my grandfather," Rhaenyra paused as a young boy, no older than thirteen, took his place on the floor, "Or so young their balls can't have dropped yet?"
"Because it would be rude of your Father to deny them a chance at royal blood," Diana replied, smiling congenially at the nervous lad who puffed out his chest and began his speel, despite the heckles of his opponents.
Diana quickly stood when a fight broke out between the young Willem Blackwood and the older crueller, Jerrel Bracken. She would not have blood spilt over petty insults; following her lead, Rhaenyra stood as well, frowning at the spectacle in front of them. Jerking her head towards the brawl, Diana made expressive eyes at her niece. It wouldn't be Diana's place to intervene; she wasn't the authority here.
Standing tall, Rhaenyra called out in a firm voice, "Stop this nonsense! In the name of your future queen! Ser Criston." At her prompt, the sworn sword stalked forward, grabbing the lordlings by the collar and pulling them apart.
Ser Willam quickly obeyed, dropping his sword and bending the knee to his princess, but Ser Jerrel was slower to find his senses, yelling insults as he struggled against Ser Criston's hold. It wasn't until Ser Criston gave him a sharp punch to the gut that the young lordling was forced to his knees, heaving for breath and struggling not to vomit up his breakfast.
As the two young men knelt before her, Ser Criston behind them to ensure their obedience, Rhaenyra stepped forward, face stern, hands clasped in front of them; frowning, she demanded, "How dare you soil this hall with your petty rivalries! Have you no shame? No respect for House Targaryen and House Baratheon, who have graciously hosted this event?"
Lord Boremond puffed out his chest at the princess's acknowledgement, his eyes hard as he glared at the two troublemakers who would have turned his hall into a bloodbath. Both lordlings lowered their heads in deference and shame at Rhaenyra's condemnation of their actions, no doubt embarrassed by the sting of her public verbal lashing.
"This… meeting is over. Lord Boremund, I thank you for your hospitality, but I believe it is time for myself and Aunt Diana to head home. We have received word that the Stepstones conflict has ended, and my Aunt is no doubt eager to reunite with her husband and son." Rhaenyra declared, before striding from the room, her red skirts swishing behind her, Ser Criston on her heels.
Turning to Lord Boremund, Diana declared, "The Crown thanks you for your hospitality and continued loyalty, Lord Baratheon. We will not forget it."
And with that, she followed her niece out, her blood boiling with anger and excitement. Rhaenyra had cut her tour and, in doing so, had insulted the Lords who had travelled far to put themselves or their sons forward for Rhaenyra's hand in marriage. Still, she had also made it possible for Diana to see her husband and son sooner.
It took a couple of days to pack up their belongings and make the appropriate apologies and expressions of gratitude. Days filled with farewell feasts and last-ditch attempts by the lords to push their houses forward with a Targaryen match. By the time their ship was readied, Diana felt like ripping her hair out, so zealous were the lords' attempts.
As the ships raised anchor and left the harbour, Diana hid away in her room; it would take at most a couple of days to sail into Black Water Bay; she wanted to relax before facing the vipers in court. Above her, the roars of dragons and the sound of flapping wings filled the air. The girls had insisted on flying home on the condition that they stayed near the ship and didn't fly ahead.
At night, the girls landed on the main deck that was cleared each evening so the dragons could quickly perch and take off again, rocking the ship violently each time they did. By the second sunrise, the highest towers of the Red Keep were visible in the early morning light. Slowly, methodically, Diana dressed herself and her hatchlings, making sure they looked the part of Targaryen royalty. The court might have turned slightly in Rhaenyra's favour after the hunt, but they were fickle creatures, and the Hightowers had months to plot and scheme in Rhaenyra and Diana's absence. To show off their half-Hightower princeling and make their case for a change in succession.
Diana was pulled from her thoughts when a familiar whistle-like roar filled the air. She hadn't heard the sound in over three years, but even so, she recognized it, bringing tears to her eyes. Then, looking up desperately, Diana let out a shrieking giggle as she made out the serpentine form of Caraxes, followed by the larger shape of Vermithor soaring through the air toward the city.
Laughing breathlessly, Diana breathed, "My loves…." Fully aware of the tears that streamed down her face.
"Mother!" Alycia cried, running towards her and falling into her arms; an awestruck Rhaenyra standing stock-still, head tilted to the sky, "It is them! Kepa and Lēkia!"
Hugging her daughter close, Diana could only sob slightly into her silver locks of hair, eyes bright with overwhelming joy. "Captain!" She called, "Make haste towards the harbour!"
Waiting for them at the docks was a black litter with the Targaryen sigil on it, a group of royal guards standing by to escort them to the keep itself. Ignoring Alycia's moans about riding up to the keep on horseback, Diana herded the girls inside, the dragon flying freely ahead. The Cannibal never did take to the pit, and after a dozen or so dragon keepers were either burned or devoured by the black beast, they had given up trying. Syrax, on the other hand, would fly home eventually, the pampered dragon refused to hunt for herself, and hunger would force her back to the pit for supper.
Driving through the gates of the tiltyard, Diana wasn't surprised to see no formal greeting party waiting for them, with dragons filling the skies and their unplanned return to the city. Jumping out of the litter, she held out her hands for the girls and together, they marched as quickly as possible toward the throne room without seeming too eager or childish. All around them, the castle bustles about, courtiers scurrying towards the court and towards for spectacle; the Rogue Prince and his eldest son were returning for the first time in years, presumably victorious.
Thankfully, Diana and the girls were one of the first to arrive, darting through the doors in time to see a tense Viserys putting his crown on his head, the great sword Blackfyre clenched in his fist. Smiling widely, with her head high, Diana strutted forward, taking pleasure in the shock that covered Viserys' face when he took her and the girls in.
Before he had a chance to question them on their early arrival, a swarm of Kingsgaurds, courtiers, and servants came flooding in, filling the floor and balconies, eyes fixed on the King and his reaction to the events taking place. Murmurs filled the throne room as Viserys took his seat on the Iron Throne, Ser Otto on his left, Rhaenyra hustling to stand on his right, the kingsguard taking their positions in front of the throne in a defensive move. Diana and Alycia took their place near the front of the hall, near Rhaenyra, just off the dais.
The sound of heavy footfalls and a door slamming had the hall falling silent, all heads turning towards the massive open doorway. Scarcely able to breathe, Diana clutched her hands in front of her, eyes locked on the entrance. Alycia was a ball of barely contained energy beside her as the footfalls drew nearer. Then, finally, finally, after three long years of waiting, Diana saw her husband followed closely behind by her eldest son.
Diana felt tears well in her eyes at how grown Aelyx looked, with his worn armour and tall, muscular frame. He looked so different from the boy who'd left her arms all those years ago, his eyes colder, face sterner. He held the face of a man who could have only seen and participated in war. Her husband had also changed, with his hair cut short and a crown of driftwood atop his head, face grave as he strutted towards his brother. So focused were they that they didn't spare a glance toward Diana, Alycia or Rhaenyra.
As the men approached, the Kingsguard stood at the ready, pulling out their weapons and holding them out, stopping Daemon and Aelyx in their tracks. And yet, her husband looked nonplussed at the seven swords being pointed at his face and that of his son, instead he kept his eyes forward onto a frowning Viserys, even going so far as to walk until the tip of Ser Harrold's blade tapped his chest plate.
Slowly, Daemon looked down at the sword before looking back up, an eyebrow cocked in derision. Then, calmly, he reached down, pulled out an axe, and tossed it onto the floor, creating a jarring crashing sound as he muttered, "Add it to the chair."
Silence followed as Viserys seemed to consider his brother's words and actions. Ser Harrold, in the meantime, reached down and hesitantly picked up the weapon.
Finally, after what felt too long, the King spoke, "You wear a crown." His face contorted in a sneer, a fake smile on his lips, "Do you also call yourself 'King'?
Daemon didn't look affected by his brother's barb; shuffling his feet slightly, he replied, voice calm, "Once we smashed the Triarchy, they named me 'King of the Narrow Sea. But I know there is only one true King, Your Grace."
Simultaneously, he and Aelyx kneeled, her honourable boy having been silent since he entered the hall, as a quiet support for his Father. Murmurs broke out at their actions; speculations murmured under breaths as Viserys looked to his Hand for guidance, then towards a sharp-eyed Diana who dared him with her eyes to deny her husband this opportunity to make amends.
Her eyes promised retribution to anyone who would dare to insult her husband at a time like this. Who would try to sully or take away her family's triumph?
Daemon continued, unbothered by the disquiet his actions had caused, "My crown and the Stepstones are yours." Then, reaching up, he took off the driftwood crown atop his head, making hair fall into his eyes that stared up at his brother beseechingly.
Viserys' face brightened slightly at his brother's vow, his lips ticking up in a slight smile as he humorously looked around the room, "Well, where is Lord Corlys?"
Daemon's lips also lifted in a smirk as he replied, eyes sparkling, "Sailing home to Driftmark, to where his family and my youngest son are waiting."
"Who holds the Stepstones?"
"We left a small contingency of Velaryon men to hold them while Lord Corlys and hopefully you, Your Grace, make a plan to settle them completely with Westerosi sailors and soldiers."
"Why is your son with Princess Rhaenys on Driftmark and not with his mother or you?"
Daemon's mouth ticked up even further into a mischievous grin; darting his eyes to Diana, they seemed to captivate her, making her breath catch in her throat as he silently asked her permission to reveal their long-laid plans. It had been too long since she'd basked in those glorious indigo eyes.
Seeing where his brother's eyes had wandered, Viserys called, "Perhaps your lady wife could shed some light on the subject? Lady Diana, step forward."
"Your Grace," Diana bowed her head in supplication before stepping forward to stand near her still-kneeling husband and son, "We are pleased to inform you that once again, Velaryon and Targaryen's blood will mingle. With the future marriage between my son Daemion Targaryen and Laena Velaryon. Daemion is currently fostering on Driftmark, so he might get to know his intended better before their marriage in a year's time."
Gasped and scattered applause followed her proclamations as all the courtiers understood the implications of her words. That it had been the second brother who had successfully courted the Sea Snake, not the elder brother and King.
Viserys' eyebrows raised in surprise while Ser Otto's furrowed in consternation; the Velaryons could prove instrumental in the conflicts to come, and by jilting them, Otto and Viserys had pushed Lord Corlys right into Diana and Daemon's arms, ripe for the taking.
A tension-filled silence filled the hall as Viserys considered her words and their implications; silently, the Hand moved to murmur in his ear, no doubt looking to undermine Diana and Daemon's efforts.
Finally, Viserys spoke, "Then we must celebrate the good news." A smile broke out across his face as he strutted down the steps towards Daemon, reaching down to take the crown from his brother's hand, considering it for a moment before handing it off to Ser Harrold. Looking down at Daemon, they held eye contact for a brief moment before he murmured, "Rise."
With his word, the tension popped like a milk skin, the whole room seeming to take in a deep breath of relief. Then, smiling, Daemon stood and allowed Viserys to pull him into a hug. Then pulling back, he waved Aelyx forward.
Viserys laughed as he took in the giant the young Targaryen had become during his absence; taking Aelyx by the shoulders, he inspected him and crowed, "My nephew! Such a strong lad!" Before pulling him into a tight hug, patting Aelyx noisily on the back.
Once the reunion was over, Viserys took both men by the shoulder, turning to present them to the court, "My family is home!"
At his words, the room erupted into cheers, feet stomping, and people swarming forward to make their greeting and ingratiate themselves with the now-seasoned Targaryen warriors. Diana could only smile and play the perfect lady; her hands clasped tightly as she watched Alycia run into her Father and brother's arms. Rhaenyra quickly followed suit, allowing Aelyx to kiss her hand, the tension between them evident.
Diana hadn't realized how tense she'd been until a soft finger clucked her under the chin, making her jump and look up to see a smirking Daemon standing in front of her. Gasping quietly, she reached up to palm his cheek to make sure he was really there and not one of the many dreams she'd had in his absence.
Ignoring all signs of etiquette or rules of public displays of affection, Daemon pulled her into a deep embrace, burying his face into her shoulder to hide the kisses he dotted her flushed skin with. A promise of the things to come when they weren't in front of the vipers of court.
Laughing breathlessly, Diana clutched him close, looking over his shoulder to see a nervous Aelyx stepping forward to wait his turn to greet her.
She gently patted Daemon on the shoulder and carefully extracted herself from his arms. Then, she marched the few feet over to her son and cupped his face. He looked so much older. The baby fat had gone from his cheeks, a small scar on his left cheek, his shoulders broader, his frame taller. Smiling through tear-filled eyes, she pulled his forehead to hers before kissing it and murmuring into his hair, "I have missed you, my son."
Replying in High Valyrian, Aelyx murmured, "I missed you too, Múna."
Choking a laugh through her tears, Diana felt the warmth of her husband on her back and saw Alycia coming to stand by her side with Rhaenyra's hand in hers. Smiling wide, Diana declared, "For the first time in three years, my heart is almost whole. All we need is to retrieve your brother from Driftmark, and I will be the happiest woman ever to live."