The Red Keep and King's Landing as a whole were alive with excitement as preparations were made for Rhaenyra's and Aelyx's wedding. There hadn't been a royal wedding since the marriage of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, and the people were eager for a show of unity from the monarchy. For years, they had whispered about Prince Aegon and his place within the line of succession once he survived infancy, and with the new alliance between The King and The Rogue Prince, the politics had become even more exciting.
Ships and caravans from all over Westeros were arriving in droves to the capital, and all of the Great Houses were sending representatives.
Diana had to curl her lip as she took in the multiple carriages covered in the sigil of House Hightower passing through the gate. Just as they removed one snake, three more popped out from the bushes. This time Lord Holbert Hightower and his wife Lynesse looked like they smelled something foul, so high were their noses as they passed through the gates and into the yard.
No doubt displeased by the news that Ser Otto had been stripped of his title of Hand and sent back to Oldtown, his tail between his legs.
But watching the arriving lords and ladies of the realm wasn't why Diana stood out on the balcony, her heart in her throat. The maesters had confirmed that if their calculations were correct, the Velaryons and her son Daemion should be arriving by dragonback within the hour.
As if summoned by her throat, Diana heard a distant shriek. Turning with a gasp, she looked out across the water, squinting her eyes to see the three small forms moving in formation quickly towards the city. Below them, ships bearing the Velaryon sigil sailed, cutting through the waves rapidly, outpacing many other vessels from other houses.
As they drew closer, the dragon became larger and larger as they swooped and swirled, Meleys taking point, her red scales blazing in the sun. Following behind were the silver Seasmoke and emerald Quickfang.
Let out a breathy laugh; Diana ignored all rules of decorum and picked up her skirts, jogging down the halls in her haste to reach the Throne Room. Her baby was home.
**Line Break**
Daemion laughed as he circled the sky, the mind flowing through his shoulder-length brown hair, dancing with the strong winds that buffered against him in his haste to reach the city. It had been almost a year since he had seen his mother and sister and nearly four since he's seen his father and brother.
He held back a blush when the arms that circled his waist tightened, and he heard the girlish giggle behind him as his betrothed held on for dear life as they made another death-defying dive, going so slow they skimmed the water as they levelled out.
When he'd first found out that he may be betrothed to Laena Velaryon, Daemion hadn't been the most graceful about it. Hiding away with his books and dragons, depressed by his brother and father's absence and frustrated by all of the changes taking place too quickly for his liking.
But, it had been Laena who had pulled him from his solitude. With her energetic and cheerful spirit, she had patiently and steadfastly pulled him away from his hiding places and towards the wonder Driftmark and she had to offer.
While growing up in the Red Keep, Daemion had always been aware of the silver-haired Velaryon daughter but meeting her again at fourteen, nearly a man, had almost swept the boy off his feet. Her smile, the way her dresses swirled around her ankles, and the way she was all too eager to discuss dragonlore with him had the boy smitten from the start, despite his shy and antisocial behaviour towards her.
As they made their way toward the Dragon Pit, Daemion could feel Quickfang's discomfort as the dragon shrieked in protest about being confined. For the last four years, the hatchling had grown exponentially while flying free on Dragonstone and then Driftmark, gorging himself on sea creatures until he was finally large enough to ride.
Where the green dragon had once sat on his shoulder, he was now large enough to comfortably carry two passengers for short distances, rivalling the size of three carriages combined. He was slowly but surely catching up with the older Seasmoke, who'd benefitted from more freedom growing up on Driftmark.
As they landed with a soft thump, Daemion mourned the loss of Laena's hold as she let go and allowed him to climb off first so he may assist her down. The dragon keeper hurried to corral the ornery dragon, waving their wooden staffs around and yelling in High Valeryian until the dragon begrudgingly headed into the pit, where they had a couple of sheep waiting for him.
"Calm, Quickfang. We will be free soon. I will be back tomorrow." Daemion called after him, laughing when all he received in return was a flicked tail and smoke-filled snort from the angry green beast.
"He will get over it," Laena said, linking their arms together and leading him to where Aunt Rhaenyra and Laenor stood waiting for them, fondness and amusement in their eyes. He had grown close to his Velaryon kin in the past few years. Finding common cause in their love of dragons with his Aunt Rhaenys and having always gotten along with the easygoing Ser Laenor.
He was lucky his soon to be good-family seemed to like him so much. He would hate to put Laena through the stress of constantly mediating between himself and her family.
"Your riding is improving, Daemion," Rhaenys called, her eyes warm as she took in the young couple. "Perhaps one day you may even come close to beating Meleys."
Chuckling under his breath, Daemion said, "I would never dare to dream of such a thing, Princess."
And with that, the group was off to where a carriage sat waiting for them, four Velaryon and two Targaryen guards sitting at attention atop their mounts to escort them to the keep. The women entered the carriage without complaint while the young men took the offered horses and mounted up.
Daemion was home; he wanted to see his family.
** Line Break **
Diana fought the urge to pace as the family took their place in the tilt yard that had been cleared out in preparation for the Velaryons' and Daemion's arrival. When she'd arrived, she'd had to withhold an eye-roll with how the family had been separated into two prominent fractions, the Hightower Queen and her brood on one side of the king, Rhaenyra and Diana's family on the other.
She'd been feeling mischievous and sick of the petty machinations and had headed straight to where a nursemaid stood holding a bawling Helaena, a now three-year-old Aegon clutching his mother's hand looking confused and moments away from tears.
"Perhaps I can try to calm the beautiful princess?" She hadn't bothered to ask the queen or even the nursemaid. Instead, her question had been directed towards a nodding Viserys, who looked harried by the continual crying.
Daemon had looked confused by her actions but always up for making the Hightowers uncomfortable; he hadn't protested when she'd brought the babe close to her chest and walked back over to stand by his side. He'd even murmured softly in Valyrian to the babe, fingering her silver locks with his hand and smirking at the panicking Hightower queen.
Alicent had looked close to tears of terror as she'd watched Diana take the babe close, murmuring reassurances in High Valyrian as she rocked her back and forth. With every whispered word and head pat, the babe had slowly quieted until exhaustion had taken her, making her fall asleep on Diana's chest.
When time slipped by without the Velaryons appearing, Diana handed the heavy babe off to Daemon to hold, holding back a victorious smirk when the man could not help but melt in front of a Valyrian babe in his arms once more. Perhaps another child wouldn't be so bad? She hadn't had her courses since over a month ago, and she and Daemon weren't exactly the picture of abstinence at that time.
"And here I thought you wouldn't want to hold a 'mongrel.' Isn't that what you called the chit's children?" Diana murmured softly in his ear, covering the move by cooking at the sleeping babe and playing the doting Aunt to get close.
"This one doesn't talk yet," Daemon growled in mock irritation, countering his sharp words with another rock of his arms, Helaena's head nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
The sounds of the horns blaring had everyone standing at attention as the gates opened and the announcer cried, "Lord Corlys Velaryon! Lord of Driftmark and Master of the Tide! His wife, the Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen, and their children Laenor and Laena Velaryon! And his highness, the Prince Daemion of House Targaryen, son of Daemon Targaryen and Diana Royce!"
Diana held back tears as she laid eyes on her youngest child for the first time in almost a year. He'd grown so much while fostered on Driftmark, his arms training and dragon-riding lessons with Rhaenyra having obviously done him well, leading to a tall, muscles frame, not as bulky as Aelyx's; instead, it was closer to his father's. His shoulder-length dark brown locks reached his shoulders and were braided back in Velaryon fashion to stay out of his face.
His broad shoulders and frame were covered in Targaryen black and red, but a blue Velaryon broach with the house's sigil of a seahorse was obviously displayed on his chest, no doubt symbolizing the joining of the two families.
Viserys quickly stopped forward, his two amputated fingers hidden by a black leather glove that was made to conceal his newest disfigurement. Smiling broadly, despite his slightly laboured breathing, the king called, "Cousins! Welcome! Such happy news to hear how you've decided to join houses with House Targaryen once more and now my darling daughter's wedding to Aelyx. We have much to celebrate in the coming days!"
Lord Corlys smiled, but anyone who knew him could see the sharp look in his eyes as he made nice with the foolish Targaryen king. Everyone knew it hadn't been Viserys he'd wanted to join houses with it; it was the more dangerous and decisive Daemon. As the Velaryon made their pleasantries and cooed over the new Targaryen babes' Diana noticed how cold their eyes looked when they glanced at the nervous Hightower queen.
This was the woman their Laena had been scorned for, and judging by the look on Corlys and Rhaenys' faces, they were not impressed by the shy and stiff-looking girl bathed in red and black clothing and jewelry.
A leopard can never change its spots. Obviously, neither can a Hightower queen.
"Mother?" The call had Diana looking forward and gasping out a laugh as she pulled her boy into a bone-crushing hug before pulling back and holding his face in her hands, awed by the muscles she felt and how sharp his jawline felt in her hands.
"My son, how you've grown." She murmured, holding his chin so she could inspect him further. Only Daemon nudging her with his shoulder prompted her to let him go. Then, taking a step back, she watched with tear-filled as her husband pulled their youngest into a hug before touching foreheads.
Not bothering to pull back, Daemon murmured softly in High Valyrian, their foreheads still touching, "How are you, my son? What a fine man you've grown into. Perhaps later, you'll show me how your dragon riding has improved in my absence, yes?"
"Yes, Kepa," Daemion murmured, his voice hoarse with withheld emotions.
Pulling away, Daemion nodded one last time at his parents before continuing down the line, sharing a one-armed hug with Aelyx, being almost tackled by an overexcited Alycia and giving hand kisses to both Rhaenyra and Alicent. Viserys simply nodded at him, his eyes gleaming and his mouth smiling wide as Daemion bowed to his king.
The pleasantries continued for a while while the families exchanged greetings and pleasantries; once they were done, though, they headed inside so the Velaryons could eat and prepare for the marriage tourney the next day. Daemion, of course, followed his family to their wing of suites in the Maiden Vault, eager to reconnect with his family.
** Line Break **
The massive dining hall that had been converted for the welcome feast was filled to the brim with lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms. Dresses and tunics of all different colours were used to distinguish the houses and their bannermen, hoping to further their lord or lady's causes by raising their social standing.
Rhaenyra felt faint as she stared towards the main entrance as house after house arrived, her heart in her throat. Her dress was beautiful, her hair immaculate and yet, not having her mother there didn't feel right. It had been almost five years since Aemma Arryn had died, and it still cleaved Rhaenyra to think she was gone.
She needed Aelyx, with his strong and calm disposition, to help control and direct her flame so that she may live without burning herself or others. Aelyx, who loved her, walked with her every day, listened to her stories attentively, and helped her cultivate her reform ideas for when she was named Queen.
Handsome, tall, strong, blood of Old Valyria Aelyx. Her betrothed, her beloved, the future father of her children.
As she watched the Velaryons enter the hall, she smiled as she watched Laena search the room just like Rhaenyra, no doubt searching for her own betrothed. Rhaenyra had never been particularly close to Daemion when they were growing up, the younger boy uninterested in playing knights and dragons with her and her other cousins, instead choosing to shadow his lady mother and read his books. But, Rhaenyra could admit he'd grown into a handsome young man, with his sharp cheekbones, muscled frame and gorgeous dark brown hair that he'd inherited from his Royce mother.
Of course, he was not as handsome as Aelyx, who was the epitome of a Valyrian Prince with his silver blonde hair and sharp features. He'd inherited his large form from his Royce ancestors, but Rhaenyra didn't mind it; it made her quiver to think of how much power that massive frame held.
Rhaenyra was pulled from her thoughts when a man with dark, silver-streaked hair and a well-trimmed beard stepped forward, cutting in line to speak with her father. The Hightowers looked affronted as they politely stepped back, their eyes staring daggers as they took their seats.
Nodding his head in deference, the man said, "Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra, congratulations are in order.
Father smiled softly as he replied, "We are very honoured to have you as a guest, Ser Gerold. I must say, I was most distressed to hear of the Lady Rhea's tragic passing. I am very sorry for your loss."
Rhaenyra's head snapped towards him at her father's words, her eyes wide and mournful. So Aunt Diana's sister was dead? Did she know? Her thoughts raced as she continued to listen in on the conversation.
"Lady Rhea was a unique character. Her kind… is not soon to be seen again. I hoped to see her sister, Princess Diana, here so I may discuss the heirship of Runestone with her and Ryan Royces regency. Since the little lordling is only seven and Lady Rhea's only child." As he spoke, the knight's voice shook with emotion, his eyes wet with unshed tears for his cousin.
Shaking herself from her stupor, Rhaenya said, as kindly as possible, "If there is anything the Crown might do to aid House Royce-"
Her words were cut off by the banging of the drums, signalling the arrival of the groom's party. Sitting straight, her attention fixed on the door, Rhaenyra barely noticed the Royce knight bowing once more towards the king before he stepped down towards the waiting table.
The floor cleared as Ser Harrald announced, "Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City and his Lady wife, Princess Consort Diana Royce. And their son and heir, Ser Aelyx Targaryen, the future Prince Consort."
The room cheered as all stood up in support of the Rhaenyra's betrothed. Uncle Daemon might not be the most popular man in her father's court, but he was still a prince of the realm and a mighty dragon rider; he was respected for his warrior prowess and achievements on the Stepstones. Aunt Diana was also admired for her charity work and graceful dignity in the face of her husband's many… missteps throughout their long marriage. In addition, she had provided the realm with three powerful Dragonriders, all with impeccable breeding and education.
Rhaenyra couldn't help but beam as she made eye contact with Aelyx from where he stood behind his parents, his young sibling behind him. Daemion looked eager as he made eye contact with Laena and Alycia looked bored as she searched the crowd, her eyes sharp like a predator searching for prey. All of them were dressed in Targaryen red and black, the red slightly more prominent with gold sewn in.
Daemon and Diana calmly stepped to the side so they could present Aelyx, who stepped forward and bowed his head low, his hands clasped behind him. He looked so handsome in his red doublet, with black dragons sewn into it, spewing golden flames. His hair was pulled back to expose the shaved parts underneath, with pieces braided in warrior custom.
Picking up her skirts, Rhaenyra walked to meet him in front of the table, where she offered him her hand, blushing when he raised it to his mouth for a kiss, "My betrothed," she breathed, her voice catching as she gazed into his deep purple eyes, lost in their depths.
"My love," he replied, holding her hand tightly as he led her back to her seat, the crowd applauding them. As they took their seats, Rhaenyra watched as both Daemon and Diana bowed their heads to the king and followed suit, Daemion and Alycia following.
Once everyone sat, the King remained standing; clearing his throat, he began his speech, "Be welcome as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honour my brother and his family, for he has always been my most fiercest ally and defender. Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targar-"
The king's words cut off abruptly as his eyes caught on something ahead, jerking his head in the direction the king gaped. Rhaenyra could barely hold back a gasp of fury at the sight of The Queen wearing Hightower Green.
The message was clear as Alicent strolled forward, her head held high despite the outrage caused by her blatant show of disrespect. The colour green wasn't even the official house colour of House Hightower; those were white and grey. No, green was the colour the house wore when they rode to war.
It was apparent many members of nobility felt the same way, going by the looks and murmurs that broke out as the queen took her seat. Many looked appalled, but Daemion took note of those who seemed to approve of the queen's stunt, most notably her Uncle Lord Hobert Hightower of Oldtown. Another was Lord Jason Lannister, who looked close to tears with how hard he was holding in his laughter at the public humiliation the king was just bestowed by his own wife.
Mind muddled by confusion, Rhaenyra could only gape as Alucent took her seat, her eyes cold as she said, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."
With a kiss on the king's cheek, Alicent took her seat, eyes cold and dead as they stared out at the court.
The king looked shaken as he nodded for all to be seated again. Then, with a soft word to his hand, Lyonel Strong, he continued, "With both branches of House Targaryen united, I hope to herald in the second Age of Dragons in Westeros."
The crowd applauded the king, but Rhaenyra could tell their minds were elsewhere as they took in the Hightower queen and her green gown. Once the raucous had died down, Viserys continued, "And after tonight's 'small affair…' seven days of tournament and feasting. And at the end of it all, a royal wedding. Between my daughter, my heir, your future Queen, and my nephew Prince Aelyx Targaryen."
** Line Break **
The drums roared as the betrothed couple began their first dance. Alycia felt like she was being smothered as she was forced to sit at the high table, under everyone's scrutiny and watch as Rhaenyra and Aelyx made moon eyes at each other.
If things had been according to her plan, this would be her wedding to Ser Lyonel, but no, her father had dug his heels in, saying she was too good for a lion. Let alone a second-born runt. Alycia had railed and screamed at her father and had pleaded for her mother's intervention, but neither had budged, although her mother had at least had the decency to look a little guilty denying her daughter's wishes.
That was to say, Alycia wasn't in love with the man by any means; in fact, if not for his high position in court and his gold, she wouldn't even look at the older man twice. But he was a member of one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. His brother was Warden of the West, for fuck's sake.
But unlike her heartsick siblings and cousins, Alycia was far too practical and, as he brothers would put it, coldhearted to ever worry about something as basic as love to rule her decisions. Lyonel Lannister sat on King Viserys' council and held his ear, his brother controlled a massive army and fortune, and unlike the disgusting Jason, Lyonel wasn't a whoremongering pig. An arrogant prick, yes; a vile glutton, no.
Rolling her eyes as Laena's giggles reached her from the dance floor, Alycia stood up, her eyes catching on her parents in deep conversation, no doubt plotting now that Aunt Rhea was dead. Mother looked to be holding back tears as father held her hands in his and murmured in her ear.
Making her way down the steps, Alycia allowed herself to disappear into the crowd, her short stature allowing her some anonymity as all eyes focused on the young couple dancing. Looking around the hall, she quickly found her target seated next to his brother, his eyes glazed over with boredom. Making sure to position herself in his line of sight, she held back a victorious laugh as his eyes widened as he took her in. Her gown was bright red, with gold and black accents, beautifully made but provocative with its Essosi cut and gauzy fabric.
Jerking her head towards the side exit, Alycia turned on her heel and strode away, not bothering to check if the knight was following her.
The hall was empty, with only torches to light it, the sound of music and merriment following her as she walked down and ducked into a shadowed crevice.
It wasn't long before heavy footfalls could be heard; waiting quietly, Alycia watched as a blonde male came to a stop in front of her hiding place, head swinging back and forth in search of her. Smiling mischievously, she grabbed him by the back of his black and gold tunic and yanked hard, sending him sprawling backwards into the shadows with her.
"Who dares-!" His yell cut off as Alycia took his face in her hands and pulled him into a deep, sensual kiss. Well, as seductive as it could be, considering she'd never kissed anyone before that moment.
But obviously, she was doing something right, going by how deep his grown was and how Lyonel clutched her to himself, their front meshed together, his hands clutching at her waist. Their panting filled the air as they kissed long and hard. Alycia, having not realized just how nice it would be to be touched by a name, allowed herself to get caught up in the moment, her plan forgotten.
So caught up were they in their amorous embrace that Alycia didn't protest when the lion began to paw at her skirts and run his hands over her breasts and arse, cupping them to test their fullness. Panting, she reciprocated, running her hand down his surprisingly firm chest and grinning when she felt how prominent the bulge in the front of his trousers was.
It wasn't until the screams started that she pulled away, panting while Tyland took the opportunity to mouth at her neck, grazing it with his teeth. Then, holding back a moan, she pushed him away, hissing at him to stop.
His eyes widened in horror, paling as he heard the sound of screaming and the crashing of furniture and broken glass. Gulping, the couple hurried to right their clothes and appear presentable for whatever calamity was taking place in the ballroom.
"Do not follow me," Alycia hissed over her shoulder while she marched away, her eyes narrowed. Who the fuck was ruining her brother's wedding feast? She'd rip them apart limb for limb.
Ignoring Tylands huffs and protests, she marched into the hall, where she found a veritable pub brawl taking place. When squealed and clutched their pearls as the men threw punches and tackled each other in the chaos. Guards struggled to contain the violence but failed as more and more drunken men were pulled into the fight, their blood roaring for violence.
Searching the crowd, she was dismayed to see Aelyx in the centre of it all, with Daemion at his side, trying and failing to restrain a red-faced, practically foaming-at-the-mouth Ser Criston. The once handsome knight looked feral as he struggled in Aelyx's and Daemion's combined holds, the object of his ire unsure.
"Where is Rhaenyra?!" Alycia cried, trying and failing to spot her cousin in the throng of people; she couldn't be far from Aelyx.
As if summoned by her words, Ser Harwin strode forwards, parting the crowd swiftly with jaw-breaking punches and well-aimed kicks until he reached a table where he knelt and stood back up, Rhaenyra swung over his broad shoulder.
The princes kicked and screamed as she struggled to escape the knight's hold, her eyes locked on Aelyx as Daemon and several city watchmen finally managed to push their way into the middle of the throng. Immediately, custody of the rogue Kingsguard was handed over to her father and his loyal watchmen, who ended Ser Criston's struggle with a swift bash over the head.
Once he was limp, the dornish man was picked up and dragged out of the room. Leaving only an ominous silence behind them.