It was said the screeches that emanated from the King's chambers could be heard all throughout Maegar's Holdfast as, for the first time in almost twenty years, Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, put his foot down with his family.
Surprisingly, for the first time in those twenty years, his wife and his eldest daughter had found a common cause, fighting him. Viserys looked haggard but firm in his position as he watched with tired eyes. His wife and heir spat their excuses and pleaded with him with tear-filled eyes at his proclamation that it was time for his eldest children and grandchildren to do their duty and be fostered out to other noble houses.
Diana held back a sigh as she remained just behind the King's left shoulder, her hands clasped demurely in front of her, ignoring the accusing glares being shot at her by both furious mothers. They had both had a decade to make preparations for fostering and betrothal and had not. Diana would not feel guilty about stepping in, especially when it was her grandchildren in the crossfire if the plans went wrong.
"You cannot do this! My love, Viserys, please!" Alicent cried, kneeling before Viserys' chair, her brown doe eyes wide and rimmed with tears, "They are my children. Please, do not take them from me. I know I have disappointed you -"
"This is not a punishment, Alicent," Viserys said, his eyes soft as he patted his wife's tear-streaked face, "but recent events have opened my eyes to my negligence. We have grown too isolated; it was a mistake to only foster Daeron away in Oldtown with your relatives; we must do the same with the others."
"So you mean to interfere in my household, Father?" Rhaenyra spat, her anger making her bold as she stood tall and glared daggers at her father and King, "To once again use your family to fix your own mistakes?"
Viserys' eyes narrowed in consternation as he struggled to stand; face reddening with emotion, he roared, "Yes! My family, I am your King! And it's about time you both remembered that!"
Rhaenyra did not cower under his fury, but her eyes did drop a hint in shock at Viserys' show of backbone. Then, with both women seemingly cowed, Viserys heaved out a great sigh and fell back into his chair, his gaze shooting down to inspect the paper he and Diana had been speculating over for several weeks, trying to ensure it was as perfect as possible before showing it off to the rest of family and eventually the realm.
"Aemond will be fostered on Driftmark for no less than five years to mitigate the damage caused at Lady Laena's funeral and help bridge the gap between our families. Helaena will serve as part of Rhaenyra's court on Dragonstone and be one of her Ladies in Waiting until she is wed. Aegon-"
"No!" Alicent cried, her face pale in horror, "You cannot take them all! Viserys, I beg of you, do not take my eldest son from me!" Viserys looked exasperated as he shrugged off Alicent's talon-like grip on his hand as she came to stand, looming above him by leaning on his desk.
"If you had let me finish, you would know Aegon will remain in King's Landing," Alicent relaxed slightly before her eyes widened in horror. She looked ready to faint at her husband's subsequent proclamation, " - and serve as my brother Daemon's squire until he is knighted. He will serve in the Goldcloaks as the Lord Commander's Valet and learn some discipline."
"Ser Criston -"
"Ser Criston is not a respectable choice, and it has come to my attention that he pits my grandchildren against each other in the training yard. No, he will remain your sworn shield, but that is only due to the fondness I know you hold for him."
Alicent's gaze shot to Diana, hatred apparent in her eyes, but she backed down, dropping her head in a fraction of a nod before stepping back to clutch her skirts and glare down at the floor in self-pity.
Diana was unaffected by the Queen's vitriol; she did not need the younger woman's approval or support. She did not want it either.
"As for my grandchildren, Aedan will be fostered in Winterfell and spend time with Lord Cregan Stark. They are close in age, and our ties with the North have been frail these past decades. It is time we renewed our relationships." Viserys said, ignoring the horrified look his daughter sent him at the idea of her eldest son being sent across the realm, "Baelon will foster in Runestone under the care of Lord Ryan and Ser Gerald Royce, and Alyssa will serve as one of her Aunt Alycia's Ladies-in-Waiting here in King's Landing. At a later time, betrothals will be set and approved by myself and the Small Council."
Instead of arguing further like Diana knew she wanted to, Alicent visibly swallowed down her emotion painting on her mask of polite ladylike veneer and bobbed her head in a half curtsey before storming out, the door slamming behind her with an ominous thud.
Unlike her long adversary, there was no hiding the dragon's blood burning under Rhaenyra's porcelain skin as she stared blankly into space, deep in thought. Her hands were fisted in her black skirts as she ignored Viserys' pleading gaze, too far gone in her self-pity and righteousness to give her father the time of day.
"Rhaenyra, my daughter. Please, if you only think of why I've done this -"
"May I be excused, Your Grace?" Rhaenyra interrupted, her voice cold as she stared blankly ahead.
Viserys looked pained at the formal title but nodded in defeat as Rhaenyra turned on her heel and strode off. Once she was gone, he fell back into his seat, his breaths nearly pants as he covered his face with his hand.
"You did the right thing, brother," Diana said, speaking for the first time since Viserys had called Alicent and Rhaenyra into his chambers for a private audience, "The realm needs a strong king to get us through this conflict. As you said, the needless infighting must cease."
"Yes... you are right, sister," Viserys muttered, his voice muffled by his hand as he continued to hide away from the world. Finally, after a long moment and an exhausted sigh, the King sat up and turned to look at her with tear-rimmed purple eyes, "I thank you for your council and continual support. How goes Daemon's reintegration into the Gold Cloaks?"
Diana's voice was gentle as she forced her lips into a demure smile, playing the part of the doting lady wife, "He is enjoying the new responsibilities immensely. It's a far cry from his informal duties as Lord Ryan's Master at Arms as Runestone. But, he's enjoying the challenge."
Viserys nodded distractedly as his eyes drooped from pain or exhaustion, probably both. His breaths were wheezing and uneven as he waved his hand towards the door, "Good... good. I- I am exhausted. Please, go enjoy some free time. And if you would, send for Maester Orwyle."
Diana frowned but nodded her acquiescence, "Yes, Your Grace."
With substantial strides, she marched towards the doors, where a King's Guard waited to open them for her; once outside, she glanced at a nearby maid and murmured Viserys' instructions to the young girl, who scurried away at once.
The sound of heavy footfalls foretold the arrival of Ser Wallas, the Gold Cloak her husband had assigned as her sworn shield throughout their stay in the Red Keep.
Once he made eye contact with her, the strapping young lad with red hair and the starting of a beard bowed his head low and murmured, "Princess," deferentially.
Diana smiled as she took in the young man; she'd grown fond of him in the weeks since their arrival in the capital. He was loyal and discreet and had a kind look in his sparkling blue eyes, although she knew that wasn't the only reason Daemon had chosen him out of the dozens of knights available.
Ser Wallas had quickly made a name for himself during training as being almost inhumanly strong and ruthless when dispatching enemies. Despite his innocent, youthful appearance, armour or no armour, he would show no mercy to anyone threatening his charge.
Shaking her head in consternation at Viserys' dependence on the 'Grey Rats' as her husband so lovingly nicknamed the Maesters who attended to him, Diana began the long walk towards the training yard where she knew her husband was training his Gold Cloaks, searching for weakness and possible traitors in the ranks.
It had been almost twenty years since he'd created the guard, and he was eager to find out just how deep the Hightower's claws latched in his long absence.
Once outside, Diana wrinkled her nose at the putrid smell of shit and piss littering the air as she blinked up into the midday sun, the heat almost unbearable in her black and bronze dress.
Ignoring the looks that followed her, the princess began the long walk through the middle bailey, past the armourer and down the serpentine steps to the Gold Cloaks barracks.
As she drew closer, deep voices yelling in exertion and metal clanging on metal rang out in the air. Smirking to herself at what horrors awaited Daemon's new recruits, Diana hurried her pace until she was on a balcony over the yard where the men trained.
Down below, her husband's strong frame was evident with his silver hair that he'd rebelliously allowed to grow to just past his shoulder tied back with a leather thong, Dark Sister held aloft as he sparred with a monster of man easily twice his size.
But despite the dark-haired man's size advantage, he was slow and clunky in his new armour, free of dents or marks. With heavy but ungraceful movements, he failed to even come close to Daemon, who frowned in disgust as he sidestepped and ducked out of the way.
"You call that a swing?" He called, distaste clear in his voice, "Move your feet, man! Do something other than swing your sword like a fucking troll."
The younger man roared in anger as he made a desperate swing while charging right at her husband. Diana sucked in a breath but almost immediately let it out when with a small sidestep and jutted out a foot, Daemon tripped the behemoth, sending him face-first into the mud.
"Carver!" Daemon yelled, his lip curling as he stared down at the huffing man who tried and failed to find his feet in the wet mud. At his call, a man, obviously a caption with his ostentatious armour, stepped forward looking worried, "Is this what has become of my pack of hounds? More like a litter of pups, armed with blunt steel and full of shit!"
His voice raised to a roar as Daemon swivelled his attention on the sweating captain, who could only gape in horror at the furious look in his prince's eyes.
"No, no, my lord. It is just... ever since you left, we have slowly been deprived of the funds you allotted for the Gold Cloaks' housing and arming. We haven't had any new swords or armour provided in years, my prince, and we have been forced to dock the men's wages to keep them fed and housed in the barracks." The man looked ready to faint as he stuttered through his explanation, sweat beading on his forehead and rolling down his cheeks.
Diana watched as her husband silently digested the captain's stammered excuses for several long moments before he jerked his head forward in a nod of acceptance, his indigo eyes screaming his need for bloodshed as he spat, "I will bring your complaints to Small Council, until then I will personally fund any repairs and replacements necessary to properly feed and armour our forces. Dismissed, Captain."
At his command, the Gold Cloaks scattered, marching away to perform their other duties or take their necessary leave for food and rest, leaving the yard desolate and Daemon standing alone, his eyes narrowed in consternation.
"Patience, my love," Diana called, the High Valyrian on her tongue as natural as the Common Tongue after so many years of use, "The Greens have had years to sully your work. It will not be fixed in a few days. Come, I feel our children will want to speak with us regarding our grandchildren's new duties."
Daemon snorted at her words but nodded and began walking up the stone steps to where she stood, his armour gleaming in the afternoon sun. His silver hair tried to escape the knot he'd tied it back in, allowing a few strands to fall into his eyes as he gazed at her with warmth.
"Do you believe I would ever allow them to say one bad word against you, my Bronze Beauty? No, it is time they grew up and saw things for how they are. The banners might not have been called, but we are at war." He murmured, cupping her cheek with his palm and gently bumping her forehead with his.
Diana held back her instinct to giggle like a young maid as she whispered, "We are trying to prevent a war. So stay your blade, for now."
The couple shared a relatively chaste kiss for them and began the long walk up to Maegar's Holdfast, ignoring the looks at their clasped hands and intimate whispers gathered from the servants and noblemen along the way.
** Line Break **
Diana fought the urge to flinch from the overwhelming silence blanketing the dragon pit. Instead, she stood at attention, watching a silently crying Aedan and scowling Aemond say their goodbyes to their grieving mothers.
They'd chosen to say their goodbye on a cliffside, just outside of the pit, the midmorning sun blisteringly hot as it glared down at them; the only thing saving them from its heat was the balm of salty air from the bay below.
Alicent had chosen to play the part of the bereaved mother and victim, crying and making a show for all to see as she made her tearful farewells to her second eldest son. In the weeks since Viserys' decree that his children and grandchildren took their roles as prince and princess of the realm more seriously, her complaints had been rampant and obnoxious in her search for sympathy.
Meanwhile, as always, Rhaenyra had chosen a different way of showing her displeasure with her icy cold silence and sickeningly sweet pleasantries. Outwardly, she played the part of the dutiful daughter and heir to perfection, leaving no room for complaint - to her rivals' frustration.
But while her face remained calm and collected, her actions spoke an entirely different story as she pulled her eldest into a bone-crushing hug and kissed his forehead and cheek in fast pecks. She murmured in his ear in High Valyrian and ignored the disapproving gaze of a scowling Alicent at the public show of affection.
Further down the line, Jocelyn's face was red with unshed tears as she clutched a blushing Aemond to her in a hug before her scowling father yanked her back to his side, his protective glare failing to cower a slightly smirking Aemond who turned and strutted towards where his Father and King stood waiting.
Viserys looked close to having a nervous breakdown as he hastily said his goodbyes to his son and grandson as they readied their dragons and allowed him to kiss their cheeks and murmur reassurances. His watery eyes darted frantic glances toward his disapproving family as he hastened the boys onto their mounts and sent them off with a final wave.
Due to his much smaller form, Vermaz took flight first, his wing flapping fast and slightly uncoordinated as he screeched in excitement, almost throwing a still-sobbing Aedan as he twirled and bucked in the air.
In comparison, Vaghar looked almost listless as she lumbered to her full height and struggled to gain altitude quickly. With her torn wings and massive size, it took her far longer to gain altitude, but due to her wingspan, she quickly sped up and surpassed a still shrieking Vermax.
The members of the court who had attended the farewell party stood at attention until the two forms disappeared from view, one headed north, the other northeast. Then slowly, they began to disperse until only the principal members of House Targaryen remained.
They all stood in strained silence until a sombre-looking Viserys turned to a frowning Ser Harrold Westerling, "I think it time I retire. Commander Westerling, escort me."
"Your Grace," Commander Westerling bowed his head and followed the King in silence as he hobbled his way to where a palanquin sat waiting to carry him to his carriage.
Once the King's entourage of guards, maids and footmen were gone, the two rebel factions were only left with each other for company.
Diana frowned as she surveyed the cliffside, her brown eyes narrowing on a yawning Aegon who leaned against a wall, looking incredibly bored and obviously drunk.
Shaking her head with irritation, she nudged her husband to get his attention, then jerked her chin towards their eldest nephew. Daemon scowled before smoothing his face into his usual cold glare and stalked forward, ignoring outraged looks on Alicent and Otto's faces as he snatched Aegon by the scruff of his neck and dragged him deeper into the pit.
"What are you-?!"
"Ser Criston!"
Daemon paused briefly at their panicked yells, throwing an exasperated look over his shoulder, "I'm simply taking my squire for some much-needed uncle-nephew time. If you have a problem, take it up with the King."
And with that, the pair was gone, Aegon whinging and whining the whole way as they descended into the caves.
A tug at her sleeve had Diana jerking her head to make eye contact with a pouting Dahlia. "Is Papa taking Aegon dragon riding?" The girl demanded, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and jealousy, "I want to go!"
This caused all of the other children to corus their agreements and complaints. All of them - except for the young toddler, who began to cry at the noise - started begging their parent to allow them to visit their dragons.
"I've barely gotten to ride Arghurys since we arrived back in King's Landing!" An ordinarily calm and level-headed Tyson whined, her blond hair combed away from his young but handsome features.
Arghurys was the name Alycia's son had chosen to rename the formally known Sheepstealer when he'd claimed the skittish wild dragon on their way back from Laena's funeral.
What was once supposed to be a bonding exercise for him and his uncle Aemond had become a solo quest as the brave young man ventured into Dragonstone's caves in search of a dragon to call his own.
It had taken several trips and multiple singed jerkins, but with enough mutton and perseverance, Tyson had returned victorious, bonded to the last of wild dragons left on Dragonstone. Although, Daemon was convinced there were eggs left hidden within the depths of the mountains that would hatch eventually.
A harried-looking Tyland turned his gaze to his wife; Alycia rolled her eyes but nodded her ascent, causing Tyson to almost jump for joy, while a still sniffling Jocelyn simply turned and walked towards the carriage that would take them to the Kingswood where Cannibal, Ironroar and Arghurys now nested.
"What about us?"
"Mother, please!"
"Why does Tyson get to go?!"
The remaining children practically foamed at the mouth as they watched in envy as Alicia herded her family towards the carriage, shooting amused glances toward the remaining adults besieged by spoiled princes and princesses.
"Alright! Fine, go change into your riding leathers and meet me in the pit," Rhaenyra said, false irritation apparent in her tone as she pretended to glare down at her beaming children, who all cheered and ran off in a cloud of smoke.
Diana simply nodded at Dahlia, who squealed and ran off as well.
All that was left was furious-looking Alicent, who glared at the other mothers in accusation while a silent Helaena looked up at her in question. The princess didn't cry or beg like her younger playmates. Instead, she stood with her hands clasped, purple eyes wide with hope.
"Your grace," Diana called, her voice sickeningly sweet, "Wouldn't it be good for Helaena to spend time with her betrothed? Even if it is on dragonback?"
"Dreamfyre misses me, Mother," Helaena said in her soft, innocent voice, "she calls to me."
Alicent held fast for another long second, her muscles tensed as Otto glared down at her with disapproval before she broke and murmured, "Only until midday, then you have lessons with the septa."
With a waifish smile, Helaena trotted off, her steps almost dance-like as she went to where Dahlia stood waiting for her.
"Do not worry, Your Grace," Rhaenyra said, her voice genuine, if not a little boastful, "Aelyx, Alycia and I will not let any harm come to my sweet sister."
Aelyx bowed his head in silent agreement before offering his arm to his wife and leading her away, their soft murmurs in High Valyrian too weak for Diana to make out.
And with that, only she, the Hand and the Queen remained.
The only Non-Valyrians left. Mothers and grandsire they might be, but no dragon blood ran through their veins.
That aspect had always left an ache in her heart, but she ignored it regardless. Diana smiled with a high lift of her chin, picked up her skirts, and with a final curtsy to the Queen, she left.
For the first time in years, the skies of King's Landing were alight with the sound of large wings beating against the air as their multicoloured scales glistened in the summer sun. Their majestic roars echoed to the small folk below. Some cheered, others cowered, but one thing was clear.
There was nothing that would stop the might of the House of the Dragon.