Diana sighed as she took her place at the Small Council table. The keep had been tense since all the children had been sent off to their fosterings or begun their duties appointed by the king. Because of this, the only royal children remaining were Dahlia, Alyssa, Jocelyn and Tyson. Who might not be in the keep for much longer, with betrothal contracts and possible fostering being considered by his parents.

Diana had not been included in those discussions. She'd been branded a traitor by her ungrateful children, who were still sulking over her interference. They put on a united front in court, but in private, Diana and Daemon ate their meals and spent their evenings alone.

Rhaenyra and her lot hadn't sent a letter in months. Diana only heard news from Dahlia, who exchanged weekly letters with her young cousins. That was the only way she knew that Helaena flourished under her older sister's care, riding Dreamfyre almost daily and playing in Aegon's Garden with her nephews and nieces.

News from Driftmark was easier to come by. Daemion, her sweet boy, sent reports on Aemond's progress weekly. It seemed the boy enjoyed learning dragonlore under Rhaenys' tutelage and had even made an uneasy peace with the twins.

The Starks were honourable to almost a fault. Diana did not worry about Aedan's safety and made plans to visit him in the spring.

Alyssa had resisted the harsh restrictions that came with being her aunt's lady's maid. Still, she settled into her role reluctantly, following Alycia to court and learning at her side about subterfuge and politics.

The chamber doors opened, pulling Diana from her musings. The other small council members took their places at the table one by one. Otto looked annoyed when he saw that Diana had already taken her seat at the King's side in the chair that used to be reserved for him. Alicent was silent, her hateful brown eyes turned down at her clasped hands as she took her place across from Diana, her queenly facade firmly in place.

After their return to the Red Keep, Viserys' trust in his Hightower in-laws had been shaken. He'd displaced Gwayne Hightower from his place as Lord Commander of the City Watch, replacing him with Daemon. And he had given Diana a seat in the small council chamber as his advisor despite her lack of a proper title.

Day and night, Diana remained at her king's beck and call, listening to his ramblings and turning his mind towards his family and duties. The healers she'd called from Essos were helping slow the spread of her good brother's mysterious illness, but it was evident to all that the disease was terminal. It was only a matter of time before the king died, leaving the realm with a succession crisis.

Much to her husband's irritation, Daemon wasn't used to not having his wife's attention. Although, he made sure to remind Diana where her affection lay whenever possible. But despite his best efforts, Diana could not shake the melancholy her family's indifference caused her.

Her one comfort was her darling Dahlia, her youngest child, who remained loyal and steadfast despite the many changes. Diana knew her daughter missed the freedom their time at the Vale afforded her, away from politics and the stifling social norms of King's Landing.

The sound of shuffling feet and heaving breaths had the members of the councils climbing to their feet, heads bowed as Viserys hobbled to his spot at the head of the table with Ser Harrold's assistance.

"I see I have kept you waiting." Viserys huffed, exhaustion clear in his dull purple eyes as he slowly shuffled through the papers prepared for him by his council. With a benign smile, he patted the hand Alicent held out to him, the touch brief and shallow in its sincerity.

"Of course not, Your Grace," Otto replied, a false smile on his face as he quickly attempted to take charge of the meeting, "As you can see on the first page, the trade guild has some concerns regarding their loss of profit. There's been a decrease since the City Watch began their new patrol routes."

"You mean since my husband put a stop to their extortion? Brother, they thought to increase their prices by up to 10% yearly. Your people were starving while they lined their pockets."

"That is not within the Lord Commander's purview. If he had suspicions, he should have brought it to the attention of the Master of Laws." Otto replied, his hands balling into fists on the table.

"He did, several times, in writing. Perhaps Lord Jasper could shed some light on why he did nothing?" Diana replied, holding out her copy of the letters she'd forced Daemon to write before he set off on his latest campaign to clean up the streets of his brother's city.

Lord Jasper Wylde's face turned a satisfying shade of red as the prideful lord slowly reached out to snatch the letter from her hold, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over their contents. "These tradesmen have held positions of high standing within Cobbler's Square. I can personally vouch-"

"As much as I wish I could take your word for their high esteem, these reports seized from the tradesmen say differently." Diana cut in, her words cold, calm and collected, her face a blank mask as she handed the copies of the resort to every council member as evidence to back her husband's claims.

Otto's eyes narrowed dangerously as he shot furious glares toward a slowly cowering Lord Wylde, his eyes promising vengeance for this disastrous oversight. But not one to be cowed into submission, he changed tactics and asked, "If Prince Daemon is so sure of these accusations and is taking them seriously, why is he not here to show these findings himself?"

"Several of the accused were tipped off by informants ahead of the raid. The Lord Commander and his squire Prince Aegon have spent the night searching for them." Diana replied, voice bland despite the spark of interest in Otto's eyes as he smirked.

Alicent's face paled at the mention of her son on a potentially dangerous raid into the slums of the capital. Her fingers twisted together, obviously fighting the urge to pick at her nail beds till they bled like she used to do as a child.

"So he failed in an attempt to apprehend dangerous criminals." It wasn't a question. Otto looked smug as he leaned back in his seat and waited for Diana's excuses.

"And he brought the eldest son of the king on this raid? Putting him into danger?" Alicent spat, her fearful eyes looking to her husband for reassurance and action.

"They have locked down the city gates and have begun a grid search. Rest assured, Lord Hand, my Queen, the criminals will be found." Diana replied, a fake reassuring smile on her face as Viserys silently nodded his agreement.

"Yes, yes, you are quite right, sister. I have complete confidence in my brother and son's ability to see this through. Let us move on to brighter topics." Viserys commanded, his voice firm as he looked at Diana with pleading eyes.

"Yes, let's." Otto simpered, smiling as he held out his own parchment covered in number figures, "Her Grace tells me that the plans for Aegon and Helaena's upcoming nuptials are going well. We should be ready in six months to host all of Westeros to celebrate their marriage."

"Helaena is currently on Dragonstone serving as her sister's Lady-In-Waiting, Lord Hand," Diana said, her eyes narrowing, "The King decreed she stays there for a minimum of two years before returning to King's Landing."

"The Queen and I humbly ask the king to shorten Helaena's stay to one year. Marriage is an important part of a princess' duties, and Helaena has been of age for some time."

Alicent nodded, although the dark look in her eyes spoke of inner turmoils she was unwilling to voice. It sickened Diana how the woman was willing to do to her own children what her Lord Father did to her. Making Helaena into a child bride and broodmare for Hightower's ambitions.

"She is three and ten, Ser Otto; in six months, she'll have just turned four and ten." Diana snapped, her blood pressure rising at her opponent's apparent indifference to his granddaughter's wellbeing, "She has more than enough time to complete her training under Rhaenyra's tutelage. Your Grace, brother, marriage can wait. You have more than enough heirs."

"If you remember, her grace, the late Queen Aemma, was one and ten years old when she married His Grace. This is not unusual for royal women." Otto demurred, his smarmy voice raising the hairs on the back of Diana's neck. Anger and dark satisfaction filled Diana as she narrowed her eyes at Hightower's idiotic blunder.

"And where did that get her?" Diana asked, her implication clear as the room fell silent; Tyland stared at his clenched fists uncomfortably while Wylde shuffled through parchments and Lord Beesbury choked out a shocked cough. Alicent looked almost as green as the dresses she promenade in.

The worst was Viserys, who looked like someone had stabbed him. His dull purple eyes filled with melancholy as he held back tears; when the silence became stifling, he swallowed audibly and muttered, "I will hear no more of this. My orders regarding my daughter Helaena stand: she will stay on Dragonstone until she is of age, then return and be wed. Ser Harrald, I'm tired. Escort me to my chambers. Alicent, come."

"Yes, Your Grace." Ser Harrold said, his face soft as he helped the monarch to his feet, his care and loyalty plained in how diligent he was to not cause the ailing man undue pain. Alicent quickly rose to her feet as well, holding out her arms to aid her husband.

The chamber was silent as they all stood to attention as their king slowly shuffled out, his breaths ragged and eyes tried as he leaned heavily on his dragon-headed cane. Once he was gone, Diana stood, eyes locked on a scowling Otto, who looked at her with clear disdain before nodding to the other lords and turning to leave.

"Ser Tyland, escort me?" She asked, holding back a cackle when the man practically jumped to his feet, apprehension clear on his beard-covered face. Despite being married to her daughter for over a decade, Diana had never really made an effort to get close to her Lannister goodson. He had always been there, in the back of family gatherings, allowing his headstrong wife to provide a buffer.

At four and forty years of age, a grandmother and mother, Diana had lived a full life despite the trials and tribulations. Tyland himself wasn't all that younger than her; being a decade older than Alycia, he was closer in age to his good mother than his young wife. With age came experience and wisdom.

The halls were mostly silent as they made their way back to the wing of Maegor's Holdfast they called home. Thailand kept his eyes ahead, the only clue to his discomfort the subtle twitch of his fingers as he played with the many gold bands that adorned them.

"How is my daughter? Grandchildren?" Diana asked, her pleasant voice hiding the unspoken demand as she disguised her interrogation as inane small talk.

Tyland cleared his voice before he answered, "T-they are well, Princess. Alycia is enjoying young Alyssa's company."

"And no doubt enjoying crushing any rebellion Alyssa throws at her," Diana said, mirth filling her voice as she imagined the conflict, "Those two are too similar for their own good, but that was why the king and I thought them to be a good match."

"Yes, princess," Tyland murmured, nodding as they stopped before Diana and Daemon's shared chambers, "I will leave you here to rest after such a long day. Good night."

"Wait!" Diana called, her heart in her throat as Tyland stopped and turned to face her, apprehension clear on his face, "Please, just remind my daughter that although we quarrel, I am her mother, and I love her."

Diana felt tears well at the evident pity in Tyland's eyes as he silently nodded once before turning and striding away. It wasn't often the proud woman allowed herself to seem vulnerable, especially in this cesspit of a city. Still, the breach between her and her family had the woman swallowing a lump in her throat as she retreated into her rooms.

Gasping for air, Diana yanked her brown curls from the frivolous updo her handmaiden had pulled into that morning, wanting to moan at the relief her scalp felt after hours of tugging. Next came the dress, the sound of ripping fabric filling the air as she tore it off her, dropping the red and black gown onto the floor behind her as she raced to sit in the opulent armchair next to a roaring fireplace.

A glimpse of her reflection out of the corner of her eye had her turning to look into the mirror that hung on the wall over her vanity, and to her horror, a stranger peered back at her. A gaunt, exhausted shell of a woman with stress lines below her eyes, pale skin and dark circles that spoke of the lack of sleep she'd been getting.

Feeling like she was being suffocated by an invisible weight, Diana turned away from her reflection and, on unsteady feet, walked towards the fireplace, collapsed into the soft cushions and allowed herself to cry for the first time in years.

** Line Break **

Diana wasn't sure how long she spent wallowing in self-pity once the wracking sobs abated into a silent fog of misery. Time was barely a construct as she allowed herself to bathe in her selfish agony. Tears had long since dried on her cheeks, making her skin feel stiff and heavy as she slowly turned her head towards the sound of footfalls headed towards her.

Daemon looked pensive as he slowly approached her, his brow furrowed as he gently took her too-cold hand and knelt before her. The pair were silent as Diana took in her husband with glazed eyes, melancholy thoughts hidden in their dark depths. Daemon's eyes blazed in comparison, a million questions flaring as he cupped Diana's cheek and silently waited for her to speak.

"Do you ever think about Pentos?" Diana murmured, her voice dreamlike as she intertwined their fingers, her gaze staring unseeing at her unmarked olive skin and his pale, scarred hands.

"Yes," Daemon murmured, his head cocking to the side as he struggled to make eye contact with his beloved, "All the time."

"I miss it, Daemon; I miss the peace, the quiet. I miss us. Who we used to be before grief and politics tore our family apart."

"One day, we will return there. I promise." Daemon said, his voice firm, his eyes earnest as he dropped his head to kiss her fingers.

Automatically, without conscious thought, Diana used her free hand to curl her fingers into his shoulder-length silver hair, petting and stroking absently as he nuzzled his face into her lap and stomach.

"I fear we will die before that day comes, my love." Diana whispered, the words nearly choking her as she forced them out, "When will this farce end? How will we ever know our children are safe if we abandon them here, in this cesspool?"

Tears welled in Diana's eyes as she pictured all of the horrible fates awaiting her loved ones if they - she - failed.

Daemon scowled as he sat up, his eyes hard as he wrapped a hand around the base of her skull, forcing their gazes to lock, "No one will harm our children. I will burn the realm to match Old Valyria before I let that happen."

Diana laughed, the sound sharp and caustic as she spat, "And how will you do that? We are getting old, Daemon. And the Hightowers have dragons and centuries of tradition behind them."

"We have more dragons, more experience," Daemon replied, unflinching in the face of his wife's turbulent emotions. Diana wondered if he had been waiting for this, for her impenetrable facade to crack and for the madness she tried too hard to hide to creep in. "And fuck tradition. Tradition ended when Aegon and his wives ripped their kingdoms out from under them with Fire and Blood."

Diana smiled softly as she reached up to cup her husband's cheeks. "I wish I could believe you, ñuha jorrāelagon, but you are just a man. You will never truly understand what Rhaenyra is up against."

"Diana-"

"I am tired. I wish to go to bed." Diana said, cutting him off before Daemon could fill her head with more reassurances, "Come, keep me warm."

Daemon was silent, although his disapproval hung like an anvil in the air as he allowed Diana to pull him to his feet and towards the bed. "Is that it? I see you crack for the first time in what feels like centuries and turn it off just as quickly? Diana, this is not healthy."

"And what would you know of being healthy? You, the 'Rogue Prince,' although not so roguish now. Marriage and a comfortable place at court that I got you have seemed to have tamed some of the fire in your blood." Diana spat, anger quickly coming to replace the melancholy that had been drowning her. She knew it was unfair to snap at Daemon, her one faithful ally and love, but yet should not seem to stop herself as turbulent emotions battered her from within.

"Enough, Diana," Daemon murmured, his voice lowering as his temper flared. Diana could only smirk in satisfaction. Daemon was unlike other men she knew who raved and battered their fists in their anger. No, her husband preferred to go quiet, laying in wait for his chance at vengeance towards those who incurred his wrath.

It was what he'd done when Viserys had banished him all those years ago, after dear Aemma's death, spending his days toiling on Dragonstone until the chance of glory and overshadowing his brother came with Lord Corlys' war in the Stepstones.

Without evening having to be there in person, his undisputed success without his brother's interference had been more satisfying than any physical blow he could have dealt Viserys. He'd proven himself ten times the warrior and leader hundreds of miles away while his elder brother had stuffed his face with cake and shoved his prick into his pretty little Hightower wife.

"Or what, husband?" She hissed, standing tall as he prowled towards her silently, "What will you do to silence your 'wayward wife' as the lords like to call me. 'Too powerful, too opinionated, someone should put her in her place." Diana mimicked the other court members' whispers when they thought she couldn't hear them.

But she heard them; she heard everything. And wasn't that just so fucking exhausting? Never getting a chance to breathe, slip up, or make a mistake for fear of repercussions. Diana felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and it kept her awake at night, the thoughts and doubts that plagued her every choice.

"Yes, perhaps she does," Daemon murmured, reaching with a firm hand to grasp her neck, gripping the sides until Diana's breath caught on instinct. But even then, she refused to bend, keeping eye contact as their breaths intertwined in soft pants.

Narrowing her eyes, Diana reached up, intending to bat his hand away, but instead found herself yanking on the wide collar of Daemon's white undershirt. The sound of fabric ripping filled the air as Daemon followed her pull until their foreheads touched, their eyes closing at the overwhelming feelings.

"Then silence me," Diana whispered, her breathless dare hanging between them.

With a groan, Daemon acquiesced, slamming his mouth over hers in a brutal kiss that had their teeth bashing together, making them both groan in both pleasure and pain. A mixture of fumbling hands and jerky movements followed as the pair stumbled towards their bed.

True to his words, Daemon didn't allow another word to escape her as he yanked away her underdress and began exploring her body with well-practiced fingers forcing gasping moans and cries from his wife's mouth as he ripped his shirt off him and with trembling fingers grasped his throbbing cock in her hands to paw and stroke at its hot, hard flesh like an inexperienced chit.

There was barely any foreplay or teasing to be found as Diana was forcibly turned until her arms hit soft sheets, her shoulders pressed down until her moans were muffled by the silk pillows under her head. She didn't fight her husband's abrupt movements; in fact, she welcomed them, arching her back and opening her legs until her throbbing sex was exposed to the cool air coming from the open balcony doors.

Daemon growled, actually growled, as he gasped her hip in one hand and with the other aimed his massive erection towards her quivering quim. After only a second of nudging, he found the correct anger and, with a grunt, speared her until she cried out, her sex clenching around him as he set a brutal pace, the sound of slapping skin and creaking furniture filling the chamber.

"Ugh! Gods, Daemon!" Diana shrieked, reaching back blindly until she found his own hand and intertwining their fingers, "Harder!"

Silently, Daemon did as she asked, increasing both his speed and brutality until sweat glistened off his skin in drops and his skin pinkened with exertion.

"Fuck!" Daemon growled, his uneven pace showing how close he was to the precipice. Unclasping their hands, he reached around until he found her hidden bud under her soaked curls and began thrumming at it roughly, not stopping even when her screams came to almost ear-shattering levels.

As she gasped as she fell off the edge, Diana could not remember what happened next. Daemon quickly pulled away from her body as his seed painted his body and the sheets. Almost as soon as they'd started, the room fell silent again, other than the gasping breaths as the pair fought to regain some semblance of composure.

Shoving her face into the pillow, Diana allowed her body to collapse in exhaustion as she felt the mattress shake as Daemon came to stand on shaky legs. She wasn't sure what he was doing until a cold, damp cloth began wiping between her legs, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Didn't think you'd want a maid called for warm water," Daemon muttered, throwing the rag away with a slap on the stone floors as he threw himself down next to her and, with a groan, pulled her until she was sprawled across his still heaving chest, their sweat intermingling.

"Right," Diana gasped, trying to calm her racing heartbeat as sleep licked at her heels. With shaky fingers, she grasped Daemon's chin until his unreadable eyes met hers, "I'm sorry, I was unfair. You have been nothing but short of perfect these past few months."

"What was it the septon made us vow again? 'I am yours, and you are mine from this day until the end of my days, from this day until my last day.'" Daemon replied, a wry smile spreading his lips as Diana giggled like a girl half her age and pulled him in a deep and meaningful kiss.

"Until my last day." She replied, emotion making her voice croak as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, smattering his skin with kisses. They stayed like that until sleep pulled them under, and when the servants found them the following day, the maids giggled and squealed at the idea of finding a love even a fraction like theirs.