Red Keep ― Throne room…

As they made their way toward the throne room, Princes Jaehaerys and Jacaerys couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. The gathering of nobles at the Red Keep had been called for a hearing, and they knew it was essential to make an appearance. The cousins had spent the last three days preparing for any questions or rebuttals that might be thrown at Jace's way as he prepared to defend his claim to Driftmark. Jaehaerys, Aegon the Younger, Viserys, and Aemma had all lent their insight into court intrigue, but Daeron's hot-headedness had been deemed too risky. Jace couldn't risk losing his legal rights to Driftmark and was determined to thwart any attempts to question his legitimacy by some backwater pretender.

"Are you all right, Jace? You look a little on edge," Jaehaerys inquired.

Jacaerys shook his head. "Not at all," he denied.

"I have not seen you this uptight since we were on the Valyria's Pride."

"That was an accident! How was I supposed to know it was going to capsize?"

"Don't mind me. Aunt Rhaenyra asked me to look out for you, that is all." I see why she thought it was necessary.

"Yeah, well, maybe from mother's point of view, I still have much to learn."

"She also gave you praise. Such determination says you let nothing and no one deter you from your goal." Jaehaerys was observant of Jace's slight change in stance. Though not apparent to some, the young Targaryen prince sensed his cousin's frustration. As Jace had turned sixteen, he was now legally responsible for himself without Rhaenyra representing him. "You're sweating. Relax. Take a deep breath," he advised.

Jacaerys took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. "I'm at a loss as to why we're even bothering with these proceedings," he confessed. "This whole petition is just a political ploy cooked up by the queen to question my claim as grandfather's heir and give Driftmark to that snake Vaemond. It's an invisible rot that eats away at the foundation laid by our forebears."

"Jace, I empathize with you, but keeping your composure and remaining level-headed throughout the hearing is crucial. All it takes is one misstep, and you lose. Your position demands patience and perseverance if you're to overcome any doubts or criticisms that may come your way. Demonstrating your worth will speak volumes about your professionalism as befitting your station. Remember: the ripple from even a tiny stone can flow a great distance."

"Thanks, Jay. I guess you're right." Jacaerys knew the Young Dragon's heir and second-in-line to the Iron Throne would be his strongest political ally. "But isn't uncle Aeonar presiding over the hearing? Any insight as to what I might expect?"

"Father is a serious man but a master of deception and an experienced player of the game. Cold and ruthless but effective," Jaehaerys replied. "Everything he says and does is calculated. He will attempt to trip you up, test your resolve, get to the heart of who you are. Always take him seriously. And I mean always."

"Egh, thanks for the warning."

As the grand doors to the throne room slowly creaked open, the two princes were greeted with the sight of numerous lords and ladies gathered before the mighty Iron Throne. High above them all stood Aeonar, the Hand of the King, dressed in a striking black tunic emblazoned with House Targaryen's three-headed dragon emblem. His attire was completed by a fearsome black robe with voluminous sleeves, which only served to draw attention to his steel draconic gloves, each adorned with a razor-sharp carbon steel blade at the tip of every finger. As he stood tall, the Young Dragon would preside over the heated discussion surrounding the delicate matter of Driftmark's succession, filling in for his father in the process.

Rhaenyra noticed Jacaerys as soon as he arrived. "There you are," she said.

"How are things?"

Viserys replied, "It's almost time to begin."

Lucerys cast his gaze around the room. "You can feel the tension weighing down here," he said.

Aegon the Younger spoke up, "Yeah, tell me about it."

Daeron snorted in agreement, "Shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Shh, Daeron," scolded Aemma. "We're here for Jace. Remember, any interruption could seriously harm our cousin's case. So, keep your thoughts to yourself during the proceedings," she advised with concern.

"Okay, okay, okay… It's still stupid anyway."

Jaehaerys stood next to his family, surrounded by his loved ones. On his right stood his mother and maternal grandfather, the former Hand of the King Ser Otto Hightower. To his left, he was flanked by his cousins Baela and Rhaena and his paternal great-uncle, the legendary Prince Daemon Targaryen. Together, they stood united, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Prince Jaehaerys," Otto said.

"Grandfather," the young prince reciprocated.

"You got this, Jace," Daeron encouraged. "You can do it. We've got your back."

"I appreciate it," Jacaerys nodded. The Velaryon youth took great care to present himself in a manner befitting his station as a prince as he mentally prepared himself for the task ahead, he was determined to prove his worth. With a firm resolve, Jacaerys recognized that he was now legally a man-grown at sixteen and would not need to rely on his mother's assistance. With a keen sense of responsibility, he was fully committed to representing himself and showcasing his capabilities fairly and justly.

As Jacaerys readied himself, he noticed Queen Beatrice standing across the room, accompanied by her children, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond. The Targaryen prince gave them a stern look, almost comical in its intensity. Lord Unwin Peake, the family head and ruler of three castles in the Reach, stood behind them. Jace couldn't help but notice the disdainful and self-assured gaze that Ser Vaemond fixed on him. The Velaryon commander's demeanor was something that rubbed him the wrong way. Even though Vaemond was more than twice his age, Jace was determined to stand his ground. He spent three full days rehearsing his lines, determined not to let Vaemond take advantage of him and steal Driftmark from under his nose.

Keep staring at me all you want. You'll only make a fool out of yourself.

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of deciding the future of Driftmark's succession and the next Lord of the Tides," Aeonar began. "As Hand of the King, I speak with the king's voice on this and all other matters." He sat on the Iron Throne. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon will present his claim. Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon shall stand against him. Ser Vaemond, as Lord Corlys's kin, you have the honor of beginning first. Explain to the court why you should be named heir to the Driftwood Throne."

Vaemond approached the Iron Throne after receiving a reassuring nod from Queen Beatrice. He gazed disdainfully at Rhaenyra and her children with a haughty expression, curling his lip in derision. "My queen," he addressed Beatrice. "My lord Hand," he addressed Aeonar. "Lords and ladies of the realm," he addressed the assembly. "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon," Rhaenyra interrupted. "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir," she scornfully accused.

"Aunt Rhaenyra!" Aemma hushed.

"What are you doing?" Aegon whispered concerningly.

"You're not helping Jace here," Viserys stated.

Aeonar heard it. "The crown does not recognize Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen at this time," he spoke firmly. Little sister, if you want your son to retain his position as Lord Corlys's heir, you need to restrain yourself and not jeopardize his claim.

Noticing this, Unwin was quick to pounce on them. "Your son will have his chance to make his own case, Princess Rhaenyra. But without you," he reprimanded. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard. And never rudely interrupt him again."

Vaemond turned to Rhaenyra. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?" he said with a sneer. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."

"That's enough, Ser Vaemond," Aeonar interjected just as sternly. He would ensure that both parties behaved properly and did not act entitled like children. "Unless you have anything else to contribute to the matter at hand, then I suggest you keep any off-hand comments to yourself." He looked at Rhaenyra, raising a hand and motioning her to keep quiet. "Now continue."

Vaemond shifted his focus to Aeonar, feeling a familiar weight in the air. They had fought side by side in the Stepstones against Craghas Drahar and the Triarchy two decades ago. But now, life had taken them on different paths. Despite the years that had passed, Vaemond couldn't help but see Aeonar as the same young boy he had fought alongside with all those years ago. "This is a matter of blood, not ambition," he resumed. "I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond. That will be all." Aeonar waved him off. He then turned his sight toward his nephew, Jace. "Prince Jacaerys, step forward." The Young Dragon eyed him. "You stand as the firstborn son of Ser Laenor Velaryon, Lord Corlys's only son and heir. After your father's death, by laws and customs, the line of succession dictates that you stand as your lord grandfather's new heir. Present your rebuttal and explain to the court why you should remain instilled as heir to Driftmark."

Jacaerys felt his uncle's eyes piercing him. It felt like something paralyzed him; the Velaryon prince felt his throat tighten. 'Everything he says and does is calculated. He will attempt to trip you up, test your resolve, get to the heart of who you are. Always take him seriously. And I mean always.' Well, you weren't kidding, Jay. Your father's… more intimidating than I remember. "My lord Hand," he began. Jace chose to address his uncle by his title instead of in familial terms to avoid showing any sense of appeal. "Your Grace. Lords and ladies of the realm," he addressed Beatrice and the assembly. "It is an honor to be here on this important day. I come before you with humility, not as a prince, but as the firstborn son of Ser Laenor Velaryon." His eyes caught a glance of his cousins nodding in approval; this told him he was off to a good start. So far, so good. "When my father was so cruelly taken from us six years ago, by the laws and customs of our land, the succession of Driftmark was abruptly thrust upon me by my lord grandfather, Corls Velaryon. I recalled the words of my aunt's funeral when he had said, 'Life as a young seafarer can be challenging, but to avoid a storm, you must sail either into it or around it. Never wait for it to come to you.' I was ten. These wise words have stayed with me ever since." Inhaling, Jace continued. "However, I feel as if an attack has been made, not on me, but on Lord Corlys. To refuse his wishes does House Velaryon a great disservice."

"And what 'disservice' is that?" Beatrice inquired sarcastically. Go on. Please do it. We all here know the truth about your sons—all of them.

"Enough," Aemma warned. "He's addressing this court. Let him speak."

"Ser Vaemond has already presented his argument, Your Grace. I advise you to kindly not disrupt this proceeding and allow Jace to speak," Jaehaerys reminded Beatrice.

Jacaerys refrained from speaking his mind. No. I'm not going to stoop to your level. I will not.Despite his strong desire to reprimand the queen with his words, he felt his anger building up and his hands clenching into fists. Nevertheless, Jace struggled to control his emotions. "As I said, Your Grace," he resumed, "the reason why this farce does House Velaryon disservice is the fact that remains: I am Lord Corlys's eldest grandson. Kings or lords, we must all honor the traditions of our forebears. And we all should strive to do better for future generations. The blood of Old Valyria flows through my veins just as it does Ser Vaemond's. And I must remind this court that―"

Just as the discussion was about to escalate into a heated debate, the atmosphere of the throne room was abruptly shattered by the sound of the grand doors creaking open. Everyone's attention was immediately drawn to the entrance, where they were all taken aback by the unexpected sight of a limping Viserys making his way into the chamber. The shock and disbelief on the faces of those present were palpable, as they struggled to comprehend the implications of his sudden appearance.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," one of the Kingsguard knights announced, "King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Rhaenyra was caught off guard by the abrupt appearance of her father, the King. She quickly pivoted to face him, her heart pounding with uncertainty. Aeonar, her brother, slowly rose from his seat on the Iron Throne, mirroring the shock etched on his face upon seeing their father approach unaided. It was a rare occurrence for the Targaryen siblings to witness their normally frail and ailing father stand upright without any assistance. The unexpected sight left them both with a sense of bewilderment and concern.

"G-Grandpa?" Aemma gasped.

"Grandfather?" Jaehaerys looked with a mix of surprise and concern.

"W-What's he doing here?" Aegon asked.

"I-I don't know," Viserys replied.

"Yes! He's okay!" Daeron cheered.

King Viserys was clearly in pain but his resolve to rectify the situation was unwavering. He had donned flowing robes in shades of red and black, concealing the decaying half of his face with a gilded mask. The regal crown of his late grandfather, King Jaehaerys I, sat atop his head. His movements were slow and unsteady as he shuffled across the stony floor of the throne room, relying heavily on his cane for support. His breathing was labored, and his skin was slick with perspiration, yet his expression conveyed an unmistakable sense of determination.

Upon finally reuniting with her cousin after a long separation, Rhaenys couldn't help but feel sorry for the unfortunate circumstances he had been forced to endure.

Beatrice shook with fury. How did he get here? He was supposed to remain bedridden!

Vaemond was acutely aware of the impending arrival of the king and was cognizant of the fact that his chances of securing Driftmark were rapidly slipping away. Upon observing Lord Unwin and Queen Beatrice, it became clear that neither had anticipated Viserys' public appearance. At first, Vaemond thought that Aeonar had masterminded the situation, but even the Young Dragon was caught off guard by this unforeseen development.

With a pronounced limp, Viserys slowly made his way toward the Iron Throne, his gaze shifting between his two children, Aeonar and Rhaenyra. When he looked at his eldest daughter, he couldn't help but see the same mischievous six-year-old girl who always managed to get into trouble yet remained a loving child. His heart filled with warmth as he remembered the countless times she had wrapped her small arms around his neck. Turning his attention to his eldest son, he saw not a man-grown, but the same curious eight-year-old boy who loved to climb and spend hours with him crafting intricate models. As he looked at his two adult children, the king couldn't help but see traces of his beloved late wife, Aemma, in both of them. Despite his weakened state, Viserys was determined to persevere. His family needed him. He had to protect them one last time. Aeonar, Rhaenyra… my children. Don't worry. I'm… I'm here. Nothing will harm you now. Driven by his paternal instincts, he finally came within reach and up at his son. "I… I will sit the throne today," he said wheezing.

"F-Father?" Aeonar asked still bewildered.

"It… It's okay, my son. I'll take care of the rest." With his cane placed on the first step, Viserys began his climb, but his condition made it difficult for him, causing him to groan and strain from the pressure, nearly causing him to topple over. Ser Erryk quickly intervened, and Viserys turned to his Kingsguard. "I… I will be fine. I will be fine," he dismissed. He needed to do this himself without assistance. With one more step, the king kept climbing. Another step, but Viserys stumbles a second time, out of breath from exertion, and the crown falls from his head. The king then heard the sounds of footsteps approaching from behind. "I said I'm fine," he rebuffed.

However, to his and the court's surprise, when King Viserys turned, he realizes it was Daemon and Aeonar who were at his side. Aeonar stood to Viserys's right, placing one palm on his chest and the other on his back to keep him steady; Daemon stood to Viserys's left, his left arm on his back while carrying their grandfather's crown in his right hand. Both their faces were drawn by concern for their older brother and father.

"Like hell you are," Aeonar whispered. Damn it, father, don't you dare give out on us now. You are going to make it up these steps and sit on that throne. I'll carry you the rest of the way if I have to.

"Ah…"

"Come on," Daemon urged.

With the aid of his younger brother and eldest son, King Viserys bravely continued his ascent up the steps. Despite the intense pain and strain on his every fiber, he remained resolute, knowing that Aeonar and Daemon were there to support him and keep him steady. They stood by his side, ever watchful and ready to act at a moment's notice if he should falter.

"Steady."

"Easy now, father. Easy, easy."

"You're almost there."

"One more step."

"There we go."

As Viserys finally arrived at his destination, he wearily collapsed onto the imposing Iron Throne. Aeonar, ever dutiful, made sure his master's attire was presentable, smoothing out his collar with care. Meanwhile, Daemon carefully placed the crown back onto Viserys' head, a symbol of his undeniable power and authority. As the king glanced up at his brother and son, it was clear their unwavering devotion and commitment to his well-being were a testament to the bond that existed between them, and Viserys felt truly blessed to have such loyal and loving family members at his side during this challenging time. Now that he returned to court, Viserys adjusted his posture. "I must… admit… my confusion," he declared panting. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession… for the umpteenth time. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys."

"What's going on?" Jacaerys whispered to his cousin.

"I must admit, I do not know," Jaehaerys shook his head.

Alicent gazed up at Aeonar, who remained standing on the steps between the Iron Throne and the floor. She silently prayed to the Seven, hoping her long-cherished desire would finally come true.

As soon as she was beckoned, Rhaenys promptly made her way to the center of the room, ready to showcase her impressive political prowess. The Queen Who Never Was was prepared to make her mark. "Indeed, Your Grace," she said. "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Jacaerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." With a nervous gaze, Rhaenyra observed Rhaenys intently. Each utterance and movement made by the Targaryen matriarch held the potential to sway the outcome of the succession dilemma. Rhaenys looked back at Rhaenyra, shifted to Aeonar, then back to her cousin. "As a matter of fact, the Prince of Dragonstone and Princess Rhaenyra both informed me of their desire to marry their sons Jaehaerys and Jace to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree," she announced, much to the shock and anger of Vaemond, Unwin, and Beatrice.

There was a sudden and complete stillness that reverberated throughout the court as if time itself had momentarily frozen. Rhaenyra lifted her eyes and met Aeonar's gaze, searching for any sign of support or solidarity. She was met with a faint smile and a gentle nod, and a wave of relief washed over her. It was clear that Aeonar had not truly abandoned her after all. "B-Brother," she stammered.

Aeonar nodded. "Even after thirty years, you're still a pain in my ass," he jested.

There it was. There's the response she was hoping for. With a grateful smile, Rhaenyra expressed her heartfelt thanks to Aeonar. The return of her father and elder brother had brought immense joy to her life, and she promised always to cherish this moment. Aeonar and Viserys had truly come through for her in the end, and Rhaenyra couldn't be more grateful to have the brother she knew growing up at her side again.

Alicent smiled warmly, feeling deeply moved by the moment. Finally, her efforts to reunite the family had come to fruition.

"Wait, what?" Lucerys blinked.

"Did… that really just happen?" Aegon asked.

"Well… that was a surprising turn of events," Viserys commented.

"By the Mother, they're getting married?" Aemma said with glee.

"Eeew!" Daeron gagged.

Turning their attention toward their cousins Baela and Rhaena, both Jaehaerys and Jacaerys observed the former smirking mischievously, causing Jaehaerys to feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment. On the other hand, Jace rubbed the back of his head to conceal his own surprise, while Rhaena appeared to be somewhat bashful in response to the situation.

"Jay and Jace," King Viserys beckoned his grandsons. "Baela and Rhaena… do you… consent… to this match?" he asked. All four presented themselves before the Iron Throne.

"We do, Your Grace," Jaehaerys addressed his grandfather. "I believe that this is what Lord Corlys wanted, to see our Valyrian bloodlines tied together, establishing a robust connection between Houses Targaryen and Velaryon akin to the bond that existed since the days of the Freehold before the Doom. As such, I agree to the match and will honor our family's wishes accordingly."

Jacaerys nodded. "That is my belief as well," he stated. "Although it does come as a surprise, grandfather has expressed his desire to see our houses bound by blood. My father and mother are prime examples of that. I agree to the match."

"The feeling is mutual, Your Grace," Baela said. She looked at Jaehaerys before returning to her uncle. "To be honest, in the past six years, I never thought I'd grow so… close with Jay but spending time with him and the rest of our cousins has proven to be a rather illuminating experience. The blood of Old Valyria runs through our veins. So why should this come as a surprise to anyone? Because it shouldn't. But I mean to say that I agree to the match."

"Y-Yes, Your Grace," Rhaena agreed. "I think grandfather would say the same."

"Well… the matter is settled. Again. Hopefully… this whole affair… will finally stop repeating itself," King Viserys declared. "I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides." He oversaw the assembly. "Let it also be known… that my grandsons Jay and Jace… shall marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena. The crown… acknowledges the betrothal and gives these four its blessings."

It's finally over. For both of us, Aeonar contemplated. He looked at Rhaenyra, who shared his thoughts. We can finally move past this. We can stop running.

Amidst the celebration of their engagements, the atmosphere took an unexpected turn as Vaemond's countenance transformed into that of someone who had ingested a whole lemon. His emotions reached a boiling point, causing him to snap. With his body trembling with anger, Vaemond boldly stepped forward to address the king directly. "You… who are only king due to happenstance… Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it. I refuse to allow it!" he said, outraged.

"Hey, Ser Complains-a-Lot! You blew it, you lost," Daeron shouted.

"Hush, Daeron," Alicent scolded.

"'Allow it'?" King Viserys said with indignation. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

"The crown's decision is final. You'd do well to remember that," Aeonar agreed.

Vaemond spun around. "THEY," he angrily pointed at Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, "are no true Velaryons! And certainly no nephews of mine."

"You forget yourself, Ser Vaemond. You speak of our cousins. You would do well to refrain from hurling such derogatory insults," Jaehaerys warned calmly.

"You're only making it worse for yourself. Do not blame others for your own shortcomings," Aemma agreed, her voice was stern, and her violet eyes pierced him intently.

"Go to your chambers. You have said enough," Rhaenyra warned.

Aeonar's keen sense of foresight led him to anticipate the direction this feud was headed towards. Without alerting anyone, he surreptitiously slid his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his robe. The ambiguity of his actions left everyone wondering whether he was merely folding his arms in disappointment or reaching for something more consequential.

Angered by Vaemond's presumption, King Viserys glared at him. "Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey… all of them are my trueborn grandsons. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark," he said coldly.

"A second son who stands to inherit nothing," Aeonar replied just as coldly. "What was it Laenor called you twenty years ago? 'Master of Complaints', was it?"

The mere mention of a particular comparison caused Daeron to emit an amused chortle, which even Aegon, Viserys, Jace, and Luke struggled to contain their laughter over. Aemma and Baela also found the comparison to be quite amusing. However, Jaehaerys, Rhaena, Alicent, and Otto were less amused and merely rolled their eyes.

For Vaemond, the insult had a more profound impact, as he was reminded of when his late nephew called him the same thing years ago at Bloodstone. This recollection only served to further fuel Vaemond's anger amidst the snickering and ridicule of his peers. "You… may run your house like brothel as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine," he kept raging, refusing to be silent. "My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides to build our name and legacy! We settled these lands and tamed these waters long before yours fled Old Valyria." He again turned to glare at Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. "And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of these―" He noticed the Rogue Prince staring at him.

"Go on. Do it. Say it," Daemon threatened in a hushed whisper. It'll be the last thing you ever speak.

Vaemond's eyes were wild as he realized the dire situation he was in. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, with no way out. If Corlys managed to survive his wounds only to learn later his brother attempted to usurp power in his absence, he would be thrown to the sharks for his betrayal. But if Corlys died, Driftmark would pass on to Jacaerys, who would not hesitate to punish him for his audacity and have his dragon Vermax burn him alive with dragonfire. Either way, Vaemond would surely face the wrath of the Targaryen dynasty. Despite the odds being stacked against him, Vaemond refused to give up without a fight. He was resolved to make his voice heard, even if it meant going down in a blaze of glory. "Her children… are BASTARDS!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, too blinded by rage to hold back. The final word echoed around the throne room. The surrounding courtiers gasped loudly. And to add insult to injury, Vaemond turned to face the throne and stared at Viserys, who was now coughing angrily. "And she… is… a whοre," he said, referring to Rhaenyra in the last word. "Pity your wife, Queen Aemma, is no longer here to see such abominations she birthed."

Jacaerys fumed. He was absolutely furious. "How dare you?!" he shouted angrily.

"You son of a bitch!" Aegon spat.

"Unbelievable. How shameful," Viserys said with disgust.

"Let me at him! I'll rip his tongue out myself!" Daeron thrashed against Gwayne's hold.

"Shame on you," Aemma denounced him.

"Shame on you," Jaehaerys chimed in.

"Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!"

Tension filled the throne room as the Blacks and the Caltrops glared at each other, their bodies taut with aggression. The men-at-arms and Kingsguard knights were ready to spring into action, their hands hovering over their sword hilts. It seemed like, at any moment, a full-blown brawl could erupt between the two factions.

An apoplectic King Viserys, however, shakily rose to his feet. Seething with rage, the king would never forgive anyone for insulting his children. How dare Vaemond for calling his daughter a whore and his grandsons bastards or even bring up his dead wife in such a vile manner. No, there was no coming back from this. Fueled by rage at the insult, Viserys unsheathed the Valyrian steel dagger from his belt. "I… will have your tongue for that," he threatened between breaths.

"Ngh!"

A gasp startled the audience at Vaemond's grunt and a sickening puncture sound. A dagger was flung out of nowhere, hitting Vaemond dead center in the chest. The Velaryon stumbled backward. Jaehaerys and Aemond looked up at the Iron Throne to see Aeonar's right arm was aimed in a straight line. They realized that Aeonar had a concealed weapon hidden in his sleeves. By the Gods, the Young Dragon's precision was accurate, and the speed was almost impossible to see. They didn't even see him move an inch; he was so fast! Before anyone could react, however, Daemon, in an almost fluid motion, had drew Dark Sister from its sheath and swung the Valyrian steel longsword, easily cleaving Vaemond's head in half just above the jaw from the rest of the body, which fell to the floor in a useless heap as blood pooled beneath him.

Aemond slightly moved back, Helaena covered her ears and looked away. Even the other Targaryens, Jaehaerys, Aegon, Viserys, Aemma, and Daeron were taken aback by the Rogue Prince's brutality.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon stood over Vaemond's corpse, his hands resting on the pommel of Dark Sister.

"Not that he'll need it, of course," Aeonar reciprocated. Let this be a lesson to you in the afterlife, Vaemond. You enter the dragon's lair to provoke it and pay the ultimate price.

"Disarm him!" Otto and Unwin both order.

"No need." Daemon wiped the blood off Dark Sister and returned to stand by Rhaenyra's side.

Aeonar stared at the assembly. He then traced the crowd. "Let this remind this court that the House of the Dragon will not tolerate such disrespect. If I hear so much as a whisper aimed at Princess Rhaenyra or her sons again, I swear by Balerion I'll have their tongues cut out." Silence. No one dared approach or speak up. "No? Good. Remember to whom you speak. This is the only warning you'll ever get."

However, the stress causes Viserys to collapse into the throne. "Ah. Ahhh…" he groaned in pain.

"Grandpa!" Aemma raced up the steps to the Iron Throne towards Viserys. "Someone get a maester," she helped her grandfather down the throne closer to the ground.

"I'm… I'm fine… just tired," Viserys wheezed. Servants brought in a palanquin chair, and the king almost collapsed onto it. "I must… set things right."

"Have Alwyn take a look at him," Aeonar instructed the courtiers. "Father," he placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll come by to check up on you. We'll talk more later tonight before supper, okay?" he said.

Viserys breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back into the chair as the bearers lifted the palanquin and began to carry the king out of the throne room, with Aemma following behind at her grandfather's side, holding onto his hand.

"Someone should clean that up before the rats start gathering, " Daemon coolly said.

"Rats gather in the wall while a beast dwells beneath the floor," Helaena muttered cryptically. "One seeks cheese, and another seeks blood. But both still die when caught in a trap." But as usual, no one paid any attention to the ramblings of the princess.

And from the corner of the room, Aemond stood, still and silent as a statute. His one good eye focused intently on his uncle and older half-brother, or more specifically on the blade that the Rogue Prince held, Dark Sister. Of course, the Young Dragon's reputation as a swift, efficient, and ruthless assassin was more than just stories. This was going to be a tough challenge for Aemond One-Eye.

Aeonar, of course, caught Aemond staring at him. Not wasting his time on such an inexperienced boy, the Young Dragon left with his family, including his sister and nephews out of the throne room. Word would soon be spread. And for any dissenters, Aeonar would ensure he would have their tongues ripped out one by one.

If it meant sullying his hands to protect his entire family, Aeonar would do it. It was his responsibility to protect them.

Chapter End

Author's Note: The petition regarding the inheritance of Driftmark has occurred, with Jacaerys and Vaemond Velaryon making their cases before King Viserys arrived to put an end to the political theater. With Jace being reaffirmed as heir to Driftmark, the marriage proposals between Jaehaerys to Baela and Jacaerys to Rhaena is also announced and confirmed. However, Vaemond was still Vaemond to the bitter end - aside from being hit with a two-punch whammy from Aeonar and Daemon respectively. We also get a glimpse on how the family is coming back together after things had been left distant for so long. What are your thoughts? Let me know.

C.E.W: So the hearing is finally settled, Aeonar, Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys stand firmly united as the Blacks and with King Viserys they have secured Driftmark and the Velaryon fleet. Furthermore, Aeonar has finally shown the realm that he has made peace with his father King Viserys and sister Rhaenyra Targaryen at last. Vaemond of course unwilling to accept defeat, spoke out against the King and insulted Rhaenyra and her sons, as well as mocking Queen Aemma which was the last straw, and Aeonar throw a dagger in his heart, before Daemon took his head... well most of it.

Now there the dinner coming up.

Questions:

Will Rhaenyra be present for Aeonar and King Viserys' talk? Because I doubt they'll get another chance to talk together again after that? Would be great for a group hug between Aeonar, Rhaenyra and King Viserys.

―Yes

Will Rhaenys be present for dinner? Her granddaughters are going to be there, and it will be the last formal dinner House Targaryen is going to have before the war.

―No. As much as she wants to, Rhaenys has to manage Driftmark in Corlys's absence. So she's entrusting her granddaughters in Jaehaerys's and Jacaerys's care.
Will Aemond still try to make a disturbance at dinner? He sees now more than ever how dangerous Aeonar really is.

I take it Aemma spends more time with King Viserys than her brothers? I'm know they do their visits but still.

―She and Jaehaerys do, Aegon and Viserys are close behind, with Daeron in dead last

Now they are reconciled, will Aeonar allow Rhaenyra to go with Daemon and their children to Dragonstone? Rhaena is still owed a dragon.

―Yes

KingInTheNorth27: Yes Aeonar has finally forgiven Rheanyra so glad that he said he "loves her but is still a pain in the ass" that part made me laugh. Loved the double team on Veamond, as he always was a sniveling little bitch in the show.
Questions
Will there be a quick wedding between Beala and Rheana to Jace and Jay in the next chap as that would help the blacks if the get married right way to avoid the Caltrops trying to sabotage them from marrying later.
I know you don't want spoil but will we see any more fillers between the supper or go straight to that scene.

roggerlopez99:This was a great chapter and I truly love the whole King Visery walking to the throne room, no one, not even Aeonar could have forseen Visery enter the throne room, hell watching that scene again made me tear up.

next chapter is the supper and the last time we see Visery alive,

but before that Aeonar and Visery will finally have a talk, it will be sad if Aeonar begs for forgiveness for the twenty years he mistreated and hated his father, only for Visery to forgive him but for something else (When he was a kid), his mind his already deteriorating. Remeber he sometimes sees Aenoar and Rhanerya as kids

Also how will Aenoar react when he learns about Visery death, keep in mind that during the past twenty years Aenoar despised him but after reading the letter and letting his agner get the best of him he now feels immense guilt over it

Moran: Question(s):

1. While Aemond and Jae are evenly matched with a sword and presumably dragon riding, I take it that Jae has the upper hand with a knife and stealth?

―Yes, though he hasn't demonstrated all his skills yet

2. Did Aeonar realize Helaena's muttering are prophetic, and had her maids report him on anything she said?

―While he does have moments himself, he doesn't mutter them (I mentioned a few chapters back). Nevertheless, the pieces slowly come together one at a time.

3. Does Talya still works for Mysaria, and Aeonar is aware but allowing it as form of an alliance or non-aggression pact?

―Talya works for both Alicent and Mysaria, though Aeonar and Mysaria do have a non-aggression pact in place.

4. The child fighting pits, did Aeonar made sure they never open and punished those to even thought of it?

―Yes. There's no child fighting pits anywhere in King's Landing.

XavierWright: Finally, the family is back together again.
Kinda hypocritical of Beatrice to think that they everyone knows the truth of Rhaenyra's sons when there's rumors circulating about the Aegon the Elder.
She truly is a Karen of the GOT Era. (If you think that's an accurate description?)

―If her description doesn't fit that of a Karen, then I don't know what else

KidChaos69: Excellent chapter, and the scene with Viserys walking up to the throne made even better with the inclusion of Aeonar. Even more chilling was Heleana mentioning the possibility of Blood and Cheese.

randomdude24: The succession of Driftmark went about as I expected, Vaemond is/was a fool and a true master of complaints. Glad to see Aeonar is back to his old self and reconciled with Rhaenyra as much of pain the ass she is. Kinda curious, so Aemond is in my opinion a psychopathic fool. Obviously, he's been training to best Aeonar, but as a warrior, is he even in the same league as Aeonar?

―No, Aemond is nowhere near Aeonar's level of fighting skills or combat experience

Fantasymaker76: Well, we're getting closer to the Dance and I'm looking forward to seeing how the wars changes. I have a few questions, first will we see Vaemonds sons tries to take Driftmark, they were missing from the show but you showed them a few chapters ago. Also what will be done when you get to the end of season 1, will you make events up or wait until season 2 airs in 2024.

―I'm not waiting that long. I'm going to keep going.